#like. he's hanging himself upside down to distract himself from his body screaming at him to fuck something

[maulfucker]

actually the more I think about it the more it makes sense to write him being in rut

[runninriot]

Even Heroes Fail Sometimes

written for @steddieangstyaugust day 17

prompt: "keep breathing, please" | wc: 4.657 | rated: M | cw: blood and injuries | tags: canon divergence, vecna is defeated, hurt/comfort, confessions, angst with happy ending | complete fic on ao3

Thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven,-

Thirty-eight seconds since Eddie last opened his eyes.

Steve doesn’t know why he’s counting. Maybe he just needs something to do, something to distract himself from the horrors with. From the frightening noises of the Upside Down slowly falling apart and the smell. He’s got blood sticking to every part of his body, some is his, some is not. Most of it is Eddie’s, gushing out of too many wounds.

    Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine,-

Steve keeps counting.

Maybe the doctors will need to know how long he’s been unconscious when they get him to the hospital.

Because they will get him there, no matter what Eddie said.

    ‘Jus’ leave me ‘ere. You- you’re better off without me.’

They would never leave him behind, they couldn’t. Steve couldn’t. Because Dustin needs Eddie. Needs to know that at least they tried.

No matter how hopeless it seems.

No matter how slim the chances are that he’ll make it.

They have to try.

    Sixty-three, sixty-four, sixty-

   “S’eve?”

He’s never been happier to hear his name, to hear Eddie’s voice, despite how broken he sounds.

   “I’m here, Eddie. I got you. Just- hang in there. We’re almost there.”

Technically, it isn’t even a lie; the gate is already in sight, gleaming and moving, frayed edges blazing like flames.

They’re so close, just a few more steps. Eddie doesn’t need to know that the hardest part is yet to come.

   “’m not gonna make it, Stevie.” Eddie’s voice is so weak, so small compared to what he usually sounds like.

This is wrong. This is not how it’s supposed to be.

   “Bullshit!” Steve protests, forcing his legs to keep going, forcing his arms not to loosen their grip around Eddie’s mangled body.

This is not the time to give up, not when they’re almost out the gate. They just have to make it to the other side where Nance is waiting with the caravan to get them to safety.

   “Even heroes fail sometimes,” Eddie whispers and Steve can hear that he’s smiling.

Why is he smiling?

   “We’re not gonna fail! We’re gonna make it and you will be fine! We’ll get you to the hospital and they’ll-“

   “Thank you, S’evie. F- for tryin’”

Eddie’s body goes limp in his arms.

    Three, four, five-

He’s unconscious again, that’s all.

He’s not dead. Eddie is not dead. Steve can feel that he’s still breathing. That’s not just his imagination, right?

   “Come on, Eddie! Keep breathing, please!”

Steve tries not to panic but it’s hard not to. With Eddie hanging motionless over his shoulder, he can’t see his face, and there’s no time to stop and take a look at his wounds. They’ve got to keep moving.

Steve feels like his heart is trying to break through his ribcage and his lungs feel like they’re about to collapse. Everything hurts. His own wounds sting and itch, and his muscles tremble from overstrain.

    Please, Eddie. Please don’t die.

---

Steve doesn’t remember how they made it through in time before the gate closed behind them. But they did, all of them.

Poor Robin seems to be in shock. She’s in the front seat next to Nancy, hasn’t said a word since they got out.

Nancy is trying her best to concentrate on the road, doing everything to keep a straight face while Dustin is crying and screaming at her to ‘Drive faster!’

The boy is completely out of his mind, probably in pain – his leg really didn’t look good – and he must be so scared, so worried about his bleeding friend in the back.

Steve hovers over Eddie’s lifeless body, helplessly pressing pieces of cloth against the worst of his wounds. There’s blood everywhere and he still hasn’t opened his eyes again.

   “Come on, Eddie. You can do it. I know you can.”

Steve has lost count, has lost every feeling for time and space, can only focus on the shallow up and down movement of Eddie’s chest.

He’s weak but he is still breathing, still holding on.

That’s good, right? Means he’s still got some fight left in him. That maybe, despite all the fucked-up shit going on, he’s still got something worth living for.

   “You can’t die, Eddie. Dustin needs you.”

    I need you.

   “Alright, Steve, get ready! We’re here!”

The caravan comes to an abrupt halt with the tires screeching as Nancy steps hard on the breaks.

And then, chaos unfolds.

   “Help! We need help!”

It’s good to hear Robin’s voice even if it pains him how broken she sounds, how he can hear the tremble in each word – he knows she’s only barely holding on, knows her good enough to know she’s near tears, on the verge of letting it all out.

But she’s a fighter, Robin is.

His best friend in the world is so brave and so, so strong when it counts. You’d think her clumsy, rambly nature is an act when you see her on the battle field.

She shouldn’t have to be strong. None of them should. They’re fucking kids, for fuck’s sake! All of them. Dustin and his little friends, obviously. But also him, Robin, Nance, Jonathan, Eddie – they’re hardly what you can call young adults and yet, they’re forced to fight like fucking soldiers in a war against powers none of them can even understand.

But it’s what they do.

What most of them have been doing for years now.

They’ve lost so much already and every time evil comes back to haunt them, the losses become greater, harder to deal with.

They’ve lost people they knew, people they loved – not again.

Not this time.

They will not lose Eddie.

---

continue reading here

[biblio-smia]

scrapes and bruises [ethan landry x reader]

masterlist | requests are open!

spiderman!ethan landry bc how could i resist!!

[one.] [two.] [three.] [four.] [five.]

soft yellow lights and a slow, steady stream of music filled the restaurant, warm ambiance that would've been romantic if you weren't alone.

couples filed in and out of the restaurant, bitter resentment towards the happy strangers filling your throat. one of the air conditioning units sent cold air blasting right above you, making you shiver. you'd forgotten a jacket in your rush out the door.

the meal in front of you went cold and the staff were starting to give you looks. pity mixed with frustration, you thought, so you asked for a to-go box and left.

don't be the first one to show up to a date, even if you're "late."

the words from your friend, who had much more dating experience than you, rang through your mind. you wished you'd listened as your arms crossed in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold night breeze.

you would admit that you were distracted on the walk back to your apartment, thoughts about the night and the boy who failed to show up occupying your thoughts, rendering you unaware of your surroundings as you walked by an empty alleyway.

"what're you doing out all alone?"

you jumped out of your skin at the voice, stifling a scream as you turned and met the upside-down face mask of spider-man.

you placed a hand over a chest as you breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar figure, hanging from a web in a signature pose. you wondered how he didn't get dizzy from being upside down all the time.

the masked hero finally let himself down, dropping to the ground with a comfortable thud. he leaned against the alley wall and crossed his arms expectantly. you briefly wondered if he shared the same level of concern with everyone; although seeing the videos of him online, he probably did.

"you should be more careful walking around by yourself this late at night." the hero advised, spider-like eyes squinting at you in a way that made you feel childishly reprimanded.

you nodded politely, now recovered from the surprise his appearance had invoked.

"sorry... sir?" it came out like a question, realizing you didn't know anything about the man in front of you.

"sir? i'm not that old," the hero said in mock-offense, scoffing a little before laughing good-naturedly.

"well, how old are you?" you inquired with a smile, hoping to get a little more information about the mystery man who made a habit of saving new york.

"can't tell you that," the hero replied with a small shake of his head.

you frowned in disappointment, as if you hadn't expected the answer.

"can you tell me anything about yourself?"

spider-man hummed in thought for a second before finally nodding.

"i'm a great listener. you look like you need that right now."

your body went a little stiff. you wondered if that mask of his had the power to read emotions.

you let out a little chuckle, leaning against the alley wall opposite the hero. the alley was tight, and you were close enough that you could reach out and touch him if you wanted to.

"got stood up," you said dryly, hoping your tone didn't reveal your hurt.

spider-man's body went rigid, just for a second. he did his best to control his voice as he spoke.

"someone like you got stood up?"

you let out a light laugh.

"the worst part is i still really like him," you said.

spider-main's voice was small and laced with confusion at your statement, the fact unwavering despite the less-than-ideal end to the night.

"why?"

you shrugged softly, eyes moving to admire the reflection of lights in the sky; there were no clear skies for stars to appear this deep in the city.

"i know he tries," you started. "he just... gets caught up in his own world sometimes." you looked up with a small smile.

"he should at least make it up to you." spider-man's voice was comfortable again, as if two best friends were having a casual conversation together.

"yeah," you smiled, genuinely this time. and with that, you glanced at the time and parted ways with the masked hero.

unbeknownst to you, spider-man walked to the end of the alley, where the group of muggers he'd taken down seconds before your arrival laid unconscious. they'd been eyeing you strangely for a while before he showed up, and now he cleaned up the mess he made before heading home, a sinking feeling in his chest.

「 ... 」

ethan landry had just finished getting dressed — careful of all his new bruises — when he got a knock at the door. his breath hitched and his heart thumped in suspense, tripping over his own frame to go open it.

he swung the door open to reveal you, still dressed for the date you were supposed to go on tonight.

you pushed past ethan and invited yourself in as ethan flicked on the faulty light switch, letting the florescent light flicker for a moment before lighting up the small space.

you placed the to-go box on a counter before taking the few steps to ethan's bed, plopping down on the creaky mattress. your arms were crossed and your gaze was sharp, staring down ethan from a few feet away.

"brought you some food," you motioned your head in the direction of the counter to ethan, who was still standing by the doorway. there were a few moments of silence as he tried to figure out what to say.

"i am so sorry-"

"it's fine," you sighed, letting yourself fall back against ethan's bed, eyes closing.

you heard footsteps and felt the weight of a body settle, sinking a spot in the mattress next to you.

"no, it's not." ethan's voice was a little shaky as it came out, louder now that he was closer to you.

"i got caught up with something and... god, i'm so sorry. you don't deserve this at all." there was a hint of confusion in ethan's voice, wondering why you put up with him like this; an invitation to tell him you wouldn't.

and you wondered the same thing. perhaps it was because you knew ethan and knew he wasn't normally like this. you knew how good he was, saw his kindness and his love for others. it was what you'd always adored about him. you knew he wouldn't do this to you on purpose. and the cold disappointment you felt melted.

you opened your eyes, scanning over ethan as he shrank slightly under your gaze. you sat up once more, leaning forward with squinted eyes.

you reached your hand out and very gently, grazed your fingers over ethan's cheek. he winced at the contact; there was a developing bruise on his face.

"jesus, ethan." you got up and got a bag of frozen vegetables from ethan's freezer and a towel, returning to your spot to press the makeshift ice pack to ethan's face. pain crossed ethan's face again, hands coming up to rest on yours.

"what exactly did you get caught up with?" you inquired with a sharp look in your eyes that made ethan gulp.

"i... tripped?"

you rolled your eyes, but you didn't press into the topic further. you were angry - but more than that, you were worried.

you let out the breath you were holding, but you deflated this time, annoyance leaving your body as the air did. ethan's eyes were wide and he was stiff with uncertainty as you lowered the makeshift ice pack from his face.

"ethan..." you started, and you watched the fear grow in ethan's eyes. the desperation. "i really like you—"

"...but?"

"but you can't leave me wondering if something happened to you. i was really worried, ethan."

"god, i'm sorry. i didn't realize—"

"the time? the day?" you listed off all the excuses ethan had given you before, watching as he bit his lip in regret and you couldn't help but feel a little mean.

"i know, ethan. but you can't just... just tell me you're okay. okay?"

ethan nodded, sticking out his pinky in the silly way you two always did.

"i promise."

and you couldn't help but comply, kissing your thumb and pressing it to ethan's.

"i really like you, too," ethan stammered out and you couldn't fight the smile on your face. you almost cursed yourself for forgiving him so easily. "like, really like you. and i would never do anything to hurt you—"

you nodded, pressing a soft kiss to ethan's cheek — the unbruised one.

"just don't lie to me. got it, landry?"

ethan nodded quickly, chasing the feeling of your lips against his skin, no matter its brevity.

but you held ethan still, holding his face softly as the lights of his shitty apartment gleamed in his warm brown eyes.

"and just tell me..." your voice lowered and ethan leaned in to listen, hands forgetting any boundaries as they moved around your body, heart rate quickening in anticipation.

"you're spider-man."

ethan's eyes went wide.

[re-ikrmso]

READ BELOW. Criticism and questions are very welcome!

PREVIOUS PART/ [MASTERPOST]

Akira followed as stealthily as he could, attempting to evade the patrols. No distractions. He needed to follow the blood. Drips of it, smeared across the floor. The only tangible thing Akira had as proof that Akechi was alive.

Then, it stopped.

A safe room...

Akira couldn't even hope anymore.

There was a good chance that Akechi was long gone, but if he really was inside--this nightmare could end. Or at least, part of it could.

Akira entered inside, sighing. He just had to keep his chin up. Akechi was capable by himself, he wasn't dead. Maruki doesn't kill people. At least, not physically.

"Akech-?"

SNAP.

The rope ensnared Akira's ankle, pulling him up, nearly slamming him into the ceiling-- the scream of pain squeezed past the doors, echoing through the halls.

Akira panted, hanging, swinging upside down, his blood rushing to his head. It was painful, being held up by a rope--no, it was a wire--a wire that dug itself snugly into Akira's ankle. Akira's traps were made of rope. But this...

He attempted to reach at the wire with his dagger, but no matter what, he couldn't seem to reach his own ankle. His entire body hung suspended with Akira desperately trying to cut himself down.

Akira's eyes flitted over to the door, hearing a patrol of shadows converge to the entrance of the safe room. Akira bit into his arm, trying to muffle his pain.

"Did you hear something? It sounded like a scream."

"Blood. An intruder has arrived."

"Perhaps we should bring the messiah to see for himself. There is blood everywhere."

No...! If anyone could see a safe room, it would be him, COULD be him-

"No. He is busy. We shall save him the work."

"A misguided intruder...They will be found, like the other. They will be saved from their own pain."

Hurry up and get away...!

"Perhaps it was the savior's newest personal patient. We must succeed in bringing him back."

"Yes. It matters not who comes to defy us."

A pause. And then, the sound of footsteps trudging away, those slow steps sloshing against the metaverse floor. Akira felt the air tense, the palace security rising. But for now, he was safe.

The trap still stung, burned. Akira was almost sure he'd pass out.

"Ar-Arsene."

Akira's mask burned away, and soon-

SNAP.

Akira landed as smoothly as he could, with Arsene softening and readjusting his fall. He cried out as his back hit the floor.

Thank god for avoiding that damn table...I don't know how well I'd fare if I fell headfirst or neckfirst onto that...

Akira choked up a little, his lungs feeling compressed and tight. Akira finally examined the safe room, allowing himself to stay crumpled on the floor as a treat.

It was ravaged.

Destroyed. Trashed. It was almost the only words Akira could use to describe this place. Discarded packages of foods, and medicines lay strewn--the walls were rended and locker doors torn asunder, from anger or desperation. Couch covers shredded apart, pools of dried blood present across the fabric and stuffing.

At the least, Akira recognized the tear marks on the wall. Definitely not Maruki's style, or Sumire's.

If so, then... Akechi has also been setting up traps? Akira didn't remember setting any up in the saferooms. Unless he did, and Maruki-

Shut up.

Carefully, and painfully, Akira took to his dagger and wormed it between the wire and his leg.

If only it was Maruki who had walked into this trap instead of him... But he still had hope that it was Maruki who walked into his other trap.

But if it was Akechi...

"Dammit...!"

Akira staggered over to the couch, wrapping an adhesive bandage over his ankle. Akira felt pretty lucky he accidentally left such a thing in his pockets, especially when his team had moved onto more effective healing items. He could just use one of his personas, but the sight and feeling of his own ankle's flesh gleaming in the light had sickened him too much to not provide SOME physical comfort.

Frankly, if Akira hadn't had the bandage, or any healing items, spells--he would've torn apart the couch further and made a makeshift bandage.

Now that Akira thought about it, this was most likely why the couch was in such a state in the first place. Patches of the couch covering were gone, and whoever was in here was out of healing items and resorted to using anything.

Could it have been Maruki? No, there was too much blood everywhere. Unless Maruki was the self-sabatoging type and purposefully allowed himself to bleed after somehow gaining an injury, didn't bother using his powers to just patch himself up--then it wasn't him.

Could it be Sumire...? Sumire had snapped out of the delusions Maruki granted her once before--but that was triggered by Maruki and he was most likely still sitting on that chair, waiting for help.

And so, once again. The only person who could have been here was Akechi.

Akira wanted to continue. He needed to see more. But palace security was already too high for his liking. Even with his healing, his ankle still ached. He was dizzy, fatigued, sleepless...

But Akechi was still here. He had to be. Akechi needed his help. Sumire needed his help. Maruki...

...

Akira dug through his pockets and send down a small collection of things. Water, some chips. An obscene amount of fried bread and some more adhesive bandages were set onto the still intact table.

Akira gazed longingly at the fried bread, taking one from the small stockpile.

Nolstagia flooded his mind as he nibbled on the loaf. His first days of Shujin were lonely but soon he was comforted and allied with his first ever friend.

But Ryuji wasn't there to help him. Not Ann, not Yusuke, Makoto, Haru, Futaba, Morgana-- Nobody was.

No one was going to help him but himself. So much for his own bonds.

Akira grumpily stalked out of the safe room, not bothering to stay concealed. Akira kicked at the non-existent puddles of the metaverse, watching the droplets of pink and black water splash up against his outfit and hem.

He looked up, feeling eyes on him. And just in case--

Akira glanced up, his disappointment piercing through the camera.

"Maruki? If you are watching. You are dead fucking meat. "

No response.

"You won't get away with this. You know you can't keep hiding forever."

"I know what you did to me."

There was a ringing in Akira's ears. A spotlight seemingly came out of nowhere, blinding Akira.

Akira felt his eyes grow heavy, his breath slowing. His head bowed suddenly, as the strings of sleep nearly pulled him to the ground--

"Akira, I don't want to fight..."

[DETOX CURED AKIRA OF SLEEP!]

--and Akira snapped awake, slashing his dagger around, hoping to catch that voice in his ear.

But there was no one around. And the spotlight was gone.

Akira ran the rest of the way out of the palace, deciding to continue his one-sided confrontation another day.

[acasualcrossfade]

Whumpril Day 5: Stifled Scream

Fighting to Save You

Written for @whumpril challenge Day 5--Stifled Scream

Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson

Words: 1540

Rating: T

TW: blood, gore, partial nudity (shirtlessness)

Eddie is badly bitten and poisoned after fighting the Demo-bats in the Upside Down when Steve finds him. Steve does his best to save Eddie and rescue him. (No character death)

Steve shivered as the cold, dank air of the Upside Down threatened to turn him to ice. He was on all fours, his head hanging as he panted. Fighting off the Demo-Bats had nearly sapped his strength, and he shook with both cold and exertion. 

Eddie lay nearly motionless in front of him, bent in a loose fetal position. His breath was a wet wheeze and his curly hair was fanned around him, tangled with sediment and debris. Around him, tattered pieces of his shirt and cuffs of his pants lay in shreds.

The bats had left moments ago, distracted by another sound or source, but there was no telling if they’d return. Steve’s eyes flicked to the skies, a small bit of relief seeping through him when he caught none of the horizon. Next to him, Eddie arched in pain, his breath whimpered and ragged. Steve crawled closer to Eddie and at the sight of Eddie’s torso and chest, Steve let out a terrified choke as his stomach clenched.

“E-Eddie? Wha-wha…” Steve struggled to make sense of the sight in front of him.

Teeth littered Eddie’s torso and chest like a warped white picket fence. For once, Steve was glad that Dustin had gone into detail about these bats. Unlike usual bats, these ones liked to leave their teeth in their victims, and Dustin had added something about how it spread their poison more efficiently.

Eddie still whimpered as Steve took in the gruesome sight. The teeth weren’t huge and pointy like Steve imagined, but rather looked like the size of a quarter, but sharpened ends. Steve forced himself to focus and count. Each mouth left a group of four teeth. There were six sets of teeth. 

He felt his stomach clench again.

Steve was impressed with the guitarist; he’d done his best against the Demo-Bats, but in the end Eddie was outnumbered and the Demo-Bats had closed in and attacked him ruthlessly. Steve watched the whole thing as he ran towards Eddie, willing his legs to go faster, faster, faster. Eddie had swung at them and killed a few, but they’d swarmed him and tore at him and by the time Steve had arrived, Eddie had already fallen.

Eddie had quietly passed out, his body limp against the asphalt. His breath still came out in uneven wheezes. The sound sent shivers down Steve’s spine. 

Steve’s heart was pounding as his hands hovered over Eddie’s chest, not sure how or where to begin. In the red light of the Upside Down, Steve could already see black veins beginning to stretch and grow out from the bites. 

He cursed loudly.

“Eddie?” Steve tapped Eddie’s dirty cheek and to his relief, Eddie shifted and let out a low moan. 

Eddie’s hands curled into fists as he came to, the pain registering as he slowly tensed. Eddie’s eyes looked up blankly, and they rolled back as he coughed wetly before moaning out a garbled sound. Black liquid dribbled from the side of his mouth.

The sound and sight made Steve’s skin crawl with fear. His hands hovered in helplessness, unsure of whether to pull out the teeth or try to run with Eddie to bring him to help?

Was he too late? Was it too late? Had he made it in time?

Steve pushed away those thoughts with a bite of determination, and pulled himself up on his knees and in one swift movement, he tore the bottom of his shirt. His exposed skin shivered in the chilly air. Steve balled up the fabric from his shirt with shaky hands.

“Bite this,” Steve urged. “Bite down on this.”

Eddie’s glassy eyes shifted towards Steve and they blinked once, and showed he understood by obediently opening his mouth. Steve shoved in the fabric, letting out a breath Eddie’s jaw closed down on it.

Steve studied the groups and lines of small, jagged teeth that stuck up from Eddie’s skin and then looked to the red sky. The sky was clear; no bats approached. 

“Jus’ for quiet, okay?” Steve’s voice came out an octave higher and much shakier, but let out a breath when Eddie wheezed in response.

He swallowed hard.

There were so many bites. 

There were so many teeth.

In the end, Steve just grabbed and pulled. Eddie reacted instantly and his body arched off the ground in pain. But, the tooth parted easily from Eddie’s flesh with a squelch, leaving a dark imprint in Eddie’s skin. 

Steve forced himself to keep going. He’d gathered a handful before he stole a terrified look at Eddie. Eddie’s face was contorted with pain, and his jaw bit down hard against Steve’s balled shirt. His nostrils flared wide as his usually soft brown eyes were wild with anguish. Eddie’s screams were stifled against the fabric of Steve’s shirt, and Steve caught a small dribble of blood trickling from Eddie’s mouth. It cut through the black liquid that stained his lips and cheeks.

“I-I have to,” Steve pleaded. “Just, you’ve gotta hold still for me, man, okay? J-just hold still and bite down h-hard on that,” he trembled, pressing a shaking hand over Eddie’s mouth. “It’s painful as f-fuck but at least they’ll be out.”

Steve mercilessly pulled another few teeth and let them clatter to the asphalt. He did his best to ignore Eddie’s silent screams. Steve had less than a dozen left when Eddie’s body suddenly went limp, his head lolling off to the side. 

“I’m almost done, I’m almost done,” Steve trembled, forcing himself to carry on. His own voice was a mantra in his own ears and he forced his shaky hands to hurriedly continue. Each tooth came out easily; it would almost be comedic if Steve didn’t feel so panicked.

Steve dropped the handful of teeth and they playfully clattered against the asphalt. His hands were slick with Eddie’s blood and Steve felt his vision tilt and dot at the sight. He knelt away from Eddie and pressed his forearm against his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to swallow, tasting the sour taste of bile in the back of his throat. Warm tears dripped down his cheeks as a whiny whimper choked out of him.

Steve allowed himself one more shaky breath before steeling himself. 

He needed to get Eddie out.

The thought of carrying Eddie the distance back to the Gate…He was already shaky and the thought of carrying anything made his entire body want to collapse. Steve felt another whimper bubble up, but he forced himself to swallow it. 

He would be fine. 

Carrying Eddie was the best option. Eddie still was unconscious and unmoving, but his breath still wheezed in and out of him. At the last second, Steve remembered to check for any signs of concussions, and to his relief, Eddie’s head felt uninjured apart from a few gashes around his neck and ears. The worst of Eddie’s wounds were on and around his torso and sides, but Steve used another strip or two of his shirt to tie off a few of the deeper gashes on Eddie’s arm and legs. 

Steve wobbled as he stood up. It took a second to right himself; the world felt like it was tilting off to one side. He bit down hard on his lip, and the sting helped him focus through the dizziness.

He had to do this. There was no way around this. 

He looked down at Eddie’s injured form. 

“Alright Munson,” Steve mumbled. “Hold tight to me, okay?” He grimaced, doing his best to gently scoot his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. Luckily, the bats hadn’t gotten much of Eddie’s shoulders and legs. Even still, Eddie let out a breathy moan, his eyes moving under his eyelids as Steve began to help him sit up. Steve awkwardly adjusted his elbow to support Eddie’s head as he used his other arm to gather the rest of Eddie by the crook of his legs.

Eddie shuddered and came to with a choked moan as Steve lifted him up. Steve gasped when Eddie gripped his arm before letting out a choked cough, spitting out more black liquid. The sight made Steve wince and he felt a hard shiver of fear itch through him. He forced himself onward.

The walk was slow. Eddie wasn’t heavy, but Steve’s arms strained as he walked. Even his own jacket he wore felt heavier on him. Steve took each step carefully, balancing both himself and Eddie as he stepped over vines and broken trees. Eddie hadn’t stirred and Steve glanced down at him. Eddie’s head fit comfortably in the crook of Steve’s arm, and the man’s wild hair pressed into Steve’s bicep and forearm. Eddie’s face was pale and he lay slack in his arms and the sight made Steve’s heart tighten with worry; the man was in bad shape. 

Steve listened for Eddie’s breath as he took each step, grateful to hear him let out a wheeze or cough. 

Wheezing and coughing meant Eddie could breathe. 

Breathing meant Eddie was alive. 

And right now, getting Eddie back alive was that’s all that Steve focused on.

[rocorambles]

Murder of Crows

Pairing: Hinata, Kageyama, Yamaguchi, Tsukishima, Yachi x Reader aka a Karasuno first-year gangbang (Takes place when they’re all third years.)

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, Toxic Relationships, Rape/Non-con, Degradation 

Summary: You should have trusted your gut when you first felt the wandering eyes and lingering stares, but now it’s too late and you’ll learn first hand what it feels like to be utterly defeated by a murder of crows.

Requested by Anon

You’re not quite sure how exactly you’ve found yourself here in a gym full of sweaty athletes, hauling a basket of ice cold water bottles to the sidelines with your best friend, Yachi, but here you are. With a loud thud, both of you drop the heavy container down and grab the pile of towels just in time for the boys who are quickly approaching you, splattering droplets of sweat everywhere and you crinkle your nose and playfully pretend to gag as they draw near. Tsukishima rolls his eyes at your antics, but he nods his head in thanks as he grabs a clean towel from you. You patiently wait as some other team members relieve you of the pile of fabric in your hands before Yachi and you sit on the bench as Yamaguchi and Coach Ukai order the team to gather around as they discuss practice drills. 

You smile fondly at the way Yamaguchi confidently holds himself as he stands next to Coach Ukai with shoulders squared and a serious, but kind face directed at the rest of the team. To think that the shy Yamaguchi you had met when Yachi had first started helping out the team during your first year would grow to be the respectable captain that he is now. But he’s not the only one who’s gone through drastic changes and you look over the rest of the third-years intently listening to him. Hell, you even turn to briefly look at Yachi and yourself. When you had become friends with Yachi at the beginning of high school you barely knew what volleyball was, let alone thought of managing the team and yet here you both are as third-years, decked out in the black Karasuno warm-up track suit.

Yachi was your first and best friend by far of the group, but you can’t deny that over the last two years you’ve also gotten closer to the rest of the boys in the same year as you. Well, you suppose they technically aren’t boys anymore. A faint smile plays on your lips as you reminisce on all the memories you’ve shared together between study sessions that somehow became just tutoring sessions as you all tried to force information into Hinata and Kageyama’s heads and exhausted nights where all of you slumped in front of Coach Ukai’s store eating meat buns and chatting away until he kicked all of you out and made you go home. But that smile turns downwards when you think about some of the more recent and less positive changes in your friends.

You can’t quite put your finger on it. You know the six of you are exceptionally close, almost weirdly close, but you had just chalked it up to the fact that you all see each other for hours every day between classes, volleyball, and after school and weekend study sessions and hangouts. Yet that doesn’t stop the slight unease from growing inside of you as you observe the increasingly strange behaviors your friends exhibit and it’s only become more...physical...now that you’re all in your third year and officially all adults. 

You had visibly winced when Yachi had first introduced you to Hinata and the orange haired ball of energy had decided to scream a greeting at you, but you couldn’t keep the wide grin from spreading across your face as you got swept up in his enthusiasm. Every moment with him felt like riding an exhilarating roller coaster and maybe that’s why you barely noticed how strange it was that he came knocking on your door almost every single day asking you to come hang out or jog with him, how strange it was that he texted you as soon as you got up, blowing up your phone all day until you went to sleep. You were so caught up in the wild ride that Hinata Shouyou was that you never had the chance to get off and think about how you had even gotten on this ride in the first place and when was the last time you had been able to take a break from it. You were still flipping upside down in loops as you entered your third year and the ride just became more intense as he began wrapping his wiry arms around you at practice, nonchalantly talking to the rest of the team with your body firmly pulled against him and his chin resting on your shoulder. You had shooed him off of you the first few times, but he had turned his huge puppy eyes on you and no one else on the team seemed to care, so you just went along with it. 

Kageyama took a little more time to warm up to you, but you didn’t take it personally knowing how reserved he was. However, over time and after a particularly long study session you had personally sat with him through, he had left a carton of his favorite milk on your desk and you had beamed at the innocent object. He started hovering around you more after that. The two of you never really spoke much, but you enjoyed the peaceful and comfortable quiet that surrounded both of you and yet, despite his silence, you noticed that he spoke loudly through his actions. You were beyond shocked the first time you had sat down to lunch with him, ready to dig into your food, when he had frowned at your bento, taken it from you, and removed some of your rice while adding more meat and vegetables without saying a single word to you. Mouth still open in disbelief, you had pierced him with a questioning look only to receive a muttered reply about making sure you were eating a balanced diet. Your heart had fluttered at the endearing reasoning, but it had become a bit strange later on when he would hand feed you, practically shoving a stalk of broccoli or a piece of chicken in your mouth even at times that you said you were too full to eat anymore. But that just meant Kageyama cared for you, right? You know the boy’s terrible when it comes to social interactions, so you shrug it off.

Yamaguchi has arguably gone through the most dramatic personality change since you had first met him and you’re so proud of the confident leader he’s become. But even in your second year with him, you had sworn that sometimes there was a hint of something...darker, hungry...something lurking underneath his shy facade that made you shiver in fear. But every time you tried to take a closer look it disappeared only to be replaced with a soft gaze. And now that he’s fully grown into himself, he’s become more physical with everyone, casually slinging his arms around everyone’s shoulders and backs in a comforting, friendly manner as he rallies up team morale. But you can almost swear that when he slings an arm around you in thanks or in greeting, his arm gets progressively lower to the point that you almost recoil from him when you feel his hand brush against the hem of your skirt. But he’s always quick to move away from you and you wonder if all of it is just your imagination or an accident on his part. 

You're briefly distracted from your thoughts as loud shouting fills the gym and your eyes are drawn to Tsukishima’s figure as it leaps through the air and blocks a spiked ball. Honestly, you’re surprised you’re even friends with him, let alone close friends. He had been nice enough to not insult you like he did with the rest of the boys, but on the other hand, he rarely spoke even a word to you or acknowledged your presence. But as you hung out with the group more, you noticed the tall shadow that seemed to always walk beside you between classes, to the cafeteria, and back home. And he’d only grown bolder in your last year, wrapping a large hand around your wrist and forcefully dragging you with him when the both of you were running late for volleyball practice. You were so caught up in keeping up with his long strides and complaining loudly about his tight grip on you that you didn’t notice the terrifying glares he shot at any male who even looked at you as the two of you walked through the school halls.  

And finally, Yachi, your sweet and adorable best friend. The two of you had hit it off right away as soon as you met each other and it was like you were connected at the hip ever since. You can’t even keep track of the amount of sleepovers, weekend trips, day trips, girl talks, and everything else you’ve done together. But you had found it a little weird when she had slept over for the first time after both of you had officially turned eighteen and insisted on sleeping in the same futon as you. Assuming she was just feeling a bit lonely and nostalgic, you let her slip under the covers with you and drifted off to sleep, unaware of the hand wandering across your resting figure. After that night, she kept on finding her way into your futon and it soon just became the norm for the both of you and you grew accustomed to falling asleep with her body heat next to yours, your dreams suddenly full of feather light touches. 

Yes, they’ve all definitely changed since you first met them all, but they’re still your closest friends despite all their new quirks, and perhaps it’s just the natural transition of entering adulthood that’s affected them. People change. You aren’t kids anymore. Of course they’d be different now. But that conviction struggles to stick in your mind when you’re stuck in the gym alone with all of them after practice every day. Yamaguchi’s always quick to dismiss the first and second years the minute practice is done and he politely assures the coaches that you all would be fine cleaning up the equipment and locking the gym up as he bids them good night. It becomes normal for the six of you to take down the nets and round up all the volleyballs and yet your hackles rise as you swear you can feel multiple pairs of eyes intensely staring at you as you bend over to pick up stray balls. You swear you feel a hand drag and linger across your ass as someone helps you lower the net. You swear it almost feels like they want to devour you as they linger a moment too long in the doorway of the equipment room, not immediately letting you pass when you try to exit. But you have no proof and the moments happen so fast that you wonder if you’re just becoming more paranoid for no reason. 

You really should have trusted your gut. 

There’s an excited buzz in the air as the team hops off of the bus and intermingles with the Tokyo teams. It’s the first training camp of the year and everyone’s busy catching up with old friends and meeting new people. You struggle to lift a bag of equipment and almost drop it when a hand reaches out and catches it before it hits the ground. Stunned by the surprising interaction, you quickly whip around and smile when you see Inuoka beaming down at you. The two of you hug and he walks with you to the dorm rooms, helping you carry everything as both of you catch up, unaware of the many pairs of eyes darkly staring at your backs.

Karasuno has always been close to Nekoma and that hasn’t changed over the years, so when the teams aren’t practicing, you happily joke around with the Nekoma third-years, laughing at Lev’s stupid shenanigans and conversing with Inuoka and Shibayama. A part of you feels guilty for not spending more time with your own team, but it’s so rare that you get an ample amount of time with your Nekoma friends and you brush the feeling off. Surely your friends would understand. But the narrowed eyes, clenched fists, and tight jaws across the room are hardly understanding as they lock in on the sight of Lev excitedly grabbing your hands as he asks you something, the sight of Inuoka resting his hand on your shoulder as he talks, the sight of Shibayama’s eyes lingering a bit too long on your face when he thinks you aren’t looking.

The week flies by and all too soon it’s the last night of camp and you horse around with the Nekoma boys, loudly shouting and fooling around well past curfew. But you know the coaches are turning a blind eye to any mischief tonight, letting you all do as you want as a thank you for all your hard work and dedication. Inuoka and Shibayama are cheering you on as you have Lev in a headlock, but all of a sudden your phone vibrates and you reluctantly release the lanky giant before opening up the unread text.

From Yachi: Come hang out with the rest of the third-years and me! It’s probably going to be our last training camp all together so we want to make some new memories together. 

Guilt gnaws at your heart when you read her message and you immediately rise and say goodbye to the rowdy boys before rushing off to your own team. The Karasuno third-year boys had managed to secure their own dorm room and you excitedly open the door only to yelp as a hand grabs you by the collar of your shirt and you vaguely register the sound of the door slamming shut as you’re shoved to the ground and adjusted until you’re on all fours. You try to shove off the hands that are tearing off your clothes, but tired of your flailing, Tsukishima wraps a hand around your throat and squeezes and squeezes until you stop you’re struggling, choosing instead to wheeze and claw at the arm restricting your air flow and only when you’re completely naked with Kageyama pressed tightly behind you, holding your waist in a bruising grip, does he let go.

You gasp for breath as you stare up at the blonde with teary eyes. “Why are you guys doing this?” You pray that it’s all a terrible joke, just a prank gone out of hand, but you flinch as Tsukishima sneers down at you. 

“What? Upset that we aren’t your Nekoma boyfriends instead? Tell me, if we hadn’t asked you to come here, would you be letting them fuck you all night long? Of course you would, you fucking slut. You have four cocks and a pussy literally just waiting for you to say the word and they’d be all yours, but no, you just had to go off and be a little whore, letting those fucking cats put their paws all over you instead. We don’t share. You’re ours, do you understand?” 

Tsukishima smirks at the fear in your eyes. “Well, even if you your stupid little bimbo brain can’t understand that now, it’ll be engrained in your mind and body after we’re all through with you tonight. Open your mouth.” You try to twist your face away as he lowers his pants, letting his cock spring out and hit your face, but his hand threateningly hovers over your throat once more and you obediently take him into your mouth. He’s so long and you begin to gag with only half of him inside of you. With an irritated sigh, he painfully grabs you by the roots of your hair and forcefully shoves the rest of his length down your throat and you try to scream around the object stretching your jaw, but you’re muffled as he starts pistoning his hips in and out of your wet cavern and tears stream down your face as your throat burns from the abuse. You’re so distracted by the struggle of trying to breathe that you don’t even notice the movement behind you until you feel something hard nudging past your entrance and shame washes over you at Kageyama’s words. 

“She’s already so wet.” You clench your eyes shut as Tsukishima laughs and only ruts into your mouth faster. “God, you’re pretending to cry and hate it, but you love this, don’t you? You love being fucked from both ends. You’re such a fucking cock slut.” He emphasizes each word with a harsh thrust and your eyes roll back as his tip hits the back of your throat at the same time that Kageyama bottoms out into you. You’re so full and you swear your jaw might unhinge itself from trying to accommodate Tsukishima’s cock and yet you can’t help the way your hips start rocking back to meet Kageyama’s thrusts as he takes his time sliding in and out of you at a languid pace, relishing the feeling of your tight walls clenching and sliding across every inch of his shaft. 

You shake your head as much as you can with Tsukishima’s fingers still tightly interwoven in your locks, trying to deny the degrading accusations Tsukishima relentlessly spits at you, but you can’t help the moan that escapes you as Tsukishima curses and pulls out, hurriedly giving himself a few more strokes before painting your face with thick white streaks. Your cunt unconsciously clenches from the humiliation of being so lewdly marked and Kageyama hisses before increasing his pace and you collapse to your elbows as Kageyama desperately chases his end while Tsukishima crouches in front of you, reaching around to play with your clit. And despite the horribleness of the entire situation, you can’t help but fall apart and your quivering walls are all it takes for Kageyama to release deep inside of you.

Kageyama has enough foresight to at least gently lower you down to the floor after he pulls out of you and you lay there on the hard surface, wishing it would just swallow you whole and take you anywhere from here. But of course that doesn’t happen and you weakly sob when you hear Yamaguchi’s soft, but commanding voice ordering you to kneel in front of him. You raise yourself up on shaky arms and move to stand up, but Tsukishima’s hand keeps you down. “Crawl like the bitch that you are.” You tremble from emotional and physical exhaustion as you make your way towards the captain, placing one hand and foot in front of the other, and you cringe at the feeling of Kageyama’s cum beginning to trickle down your inner thigh, but soon enough you’re in between his thighs as he sits on a chair above you. 

His cock is already out and even though he’s not as big as Tsukishima, your mouth still goes dry at the thought of trying to take him in your still aching mouth. You begin to lick him, taking in just his tip and swirling your tongue around him before delicately licking down his entire length, anything to buy you some time before you need to use your mouth again, but you push off of him with a scream, your hands tightly clutching his thighs as Hinata slides underneath your spread legs and licks a long stripe across your pussy. Yamaguchi is patient with you, enjoying the way drool begins to leak out the sides of your mouth as you moan from Hinata’s enthusiastic licks, but his cock twitches at a high pitched whine that exits your throat and he places a hand on your head and firmly pushes you back down to his leaking cock. 

You’re sloppy, unable to fully control your mouth as you moan and drool while Hinata’s tongue pushes inside of you, tasting every inch of you. But the sight of you slobbering all over his cock and the debauched mess of it all only makes it feel better for Yamaguchi and he can’t help the way his hips buck up into you when he finally finishes and he hungrily drinks in the sight of your throat swallowing every drop of him. Your thighs begin to clench and your body is taut as you can feel another climax quickly approaching and when Yamaguchi casually twists and pulls your nipples with his fingers, your back sharply arches as you open your mouth in a silent scream. You stay in that shape for a few seconds until the pleasure begins to ebb away and you try to move away, but Hinata’s arms wrap around you, holding you in place, and you wail as he earnestly continues lapping and sucking at every inch of your drenched pussy that he can reach. Your upper body collapses into Yamaguchi’s lap as he tenderly strokes your hair and it feels like ages before Hinata finally reliquinches his grip on you and moves out from under you. 

You shakily whimper as Yamaguchi soothingly whispers into your ear about what a good slut you are, how beautiful you look when you’re falling apart because of them, but you have no energy to push yourself away from him and you lay there, with your face in between his thighs and your arms splayed over his legs. You can feel your eyelids fluttering shut and just when you think you’ll at least be able to escape into the shelter of your own unconsciousness, strong hands pull you off of Yamaguchi and lay you flat on your back. It’s not comfortable, but you’re at least glad to finally relieve your knees which you’re sure will be black and blue tomorrow. But any small consolation you felt instantly dissipates when you see Hinata hovering over you and you don’t even have a second to understand what’s happening before he shoves his entire length into you in one swift motion. 

After being stretched out by Kageyama and thoroughly lubricated with the sticky mix of your own juices and the setter’s cum, Hinata easily slides in and there’s no pain as he fills you, but this new position means there’s nowhere for you to hide your face from the predatory eyes staring down at you and the humiliation is so much worse as you’re fully aware of Hinata intently staring at your slutty fucked out expression as he continuously rams in and out of you. Your eyes are so far back in your head that it’s hard to clearly see and maybe that’s why you don’t notice the growing shadow covering your face until it’s too late and your nose and mouth are covered by a musky warm scent. Sex. It smells like sex. You rapidly blink the pleasure from your eyes as you try to focus your vision, but you wish you hadn’t when the image of Yachi’s small breasts bouncing above you as she rides your face sears itself into your brain. You try to close your mouth as tightly as you can, refusing to service the woman above you, but it’s so hard to breathe with her pussy covering the bottom half of your face and accidental moans are forced from you as Hinata continues railing into you, which only cause Yachi to grind and moan more as the vibrations from your mouth stimulate her slick heat. 

Later you’ll try and convince yourself that it was just survival instinct, just you trying to do what you needed to do to breathe, to have everything be over and that you aren’t eagerly drinking Yachi’s essence that never seems to stop flowing on your face as your lips and tongue explore every inch of her more intimately than you’d ever dreamed of doing. You’ll deny you felt any pleasure despite the wanton moans you can’t stop releasing and the powerful orgasm that wracks through your body as Hinata’s cum mixes with the mess between your legs and as Yachi’s hips stutter as she smears her release all over your face. But for now you lay there, in a pool of your own liquids and the fluids of the five people towering over your limp and used body, drowning in the dangerously intoxicating pleasure they’ve submerged you in. 

A tiny screeching voice inside of your head tells you to get up, get away and despite the dazed state you’re in, your hands attempt to push you up and it feels like you’re stuck in molasses as you excruciatingly slowly push yourself up into a sitting position and it takes everything left inside of you to feebly move your legs as you attempt to rise. But just when you almost have your feet underneath you, something is pressed against your chest and you’re pushed back down and you whimper at the heavy embarrassing weight of the foot squarely planted in the middle of your chest, stepping on you, keeping you down. Tsukishima’s never looked taller as he leers down at you.

“That’s cute. Did you really think we’d let you just get up and walk away from us? We’re nowhere near done with you. We’re not stopping until we literally fuck you to sleep and make sure that your body is so worn out that we know you’ll be safe and sound in your own futon tonight and not sneaking off to whore yourself out to anyone else.” 

And if you’ve learned anything from managing this team, it’s that they’re relentless in the pursuit of their goals and for the first time since you’ve managed them, you feel a pang of pity for the teams they’ve crushed and destroyed, wondering if this is how all their opponents feel as the five of them pounce on you with the intent of thoroughly dominating and conquering you.   

[carocane]

pick me up and hold me close

Flufftober Day 6 - Fireman’s Carry

@flufftober2021

9-1-1

Eddie Diaz/Evan “Buck” Buckley (Buddie)

“You can’t pick me up!”

“Yes I can, Eddie. I’ve done it before.”

“That doesn’t count, you were running on pure adrenaline then, Buck.”

“It doesn’t matter, that still totally counts.”

The argument has been going on for far too long and nobody can really remember how it started anymore. The rest of the firehouse is already tired of Buck and Eddie going back and forth on whether Buck can pick up the other firefighter. And it seems like there’s no end to this in sight. Until Hen steps in to finally settle it.

“Ok, fine Buckaroo. If you think you can pick Eddie up, prove it” Hen challenges. The rest of the crew comes to a standstill and all the attention turns to the pair verbally sparring in the middle of the gym.

Eddie’s eyebrow raises and he smirks at his partner, daring him to take up the challenge. He wants to see what Buck is going to do. 

Buck turns to Hen and Chimney for support at that. “Tell him I picked him up before and I can do it again.”

“You say you did but you were the only one there. Plus, like Eddie said, you were running on fear and adrenaline. I’m not sure you could pick him up now.” Hen is mostly having fun winding up the younger firefighter but kind of wants to see where this goes.

“Yes I can. Eddie, come here so I can show all of you.” 

“Ok, if you think you can pick me up, you come over here and do it.” Eddie feels something new, something weighted in meaning, in the gaze he turns on Buck. It makes Buck pause and go red all over. He’s suddenly not sure what’s happening but he likes it.

Read the rest on AO3 

or

Just then the alarm rings and everyone springs into action, racing toward the trucks and whatever disaster awaits them. Before they climb into the ladder truck, Buck leans close to Eddie. “This isn’t over Diaz,” he whispers before jumping in. Eddie stumbles for a moment before climbing in and closing the door. He tried to play it off but he’s pretty sure Buck noticed.

The rest of the group has seemingly forgotten the argument and Eddie tries his hardest to put it out of his mind as well, at least until they’re done at whatever scene they’re headed to.

The multi-car accident they attend ends up being long but not too terrible. Everyone managed to walk away mostly unhurt but there’s a lot of clean up to do.

The crew finally returns to the fire house with only a few hours left on shift, exhausted and ready to relax until the next call or they’re off duty.

They’re all sprawled around the loft upstairs when Buck remembers the debate from earlier and turns to Eddie. “Hey, I never got to prove that I can pick you up.”

“Yeah cause you deliberately drew it out until the alarm rang. Because you know you can’t.”

“Ok, that’s it. Get up, we’re doing this.”

“No, Buck. This is ridiculous.” Eddie continues to lounge back on the couch and doesn’t see it coming when Buck suddenly lunges for him. He blames not being prepared as the reason Buck is able to lift him over his shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry.

His whole world is turned upside down, literally and figuratively. He’s perched precariously on Buck’s shoulders but has somehow never felt more secure. He knows Buck would never drop him or intentionally hurt him.

Eddie also finds out that he very much likes being picked up and held by Buck, only maybe next time in a slightly different and more intimate position. He’s so caught up in his thoughts he almost misses Buck crowing about his victory.

“See, I told you I could pick you up. It wasn’t just adrenaline.”

“Yeah, ok ok, you can pick me up. Good job Buck,” Eddie says, still distracted by the new thoughts swirling around in his head.

Eddie is deposited gently back onto the couch, his mind still whirling a million miles an hour.

This whole thing started as a stupid argument with his best friend and now Eddie finds himself examining the two of them in a new light. He really liked being picked up and would like to explore that further but Buck is currently too caught up in his victory to notice the revelation Eddie is having.

That’s ok, they plan to hang out tonight and Eddie can use that opportunity to talk Buck into picking him up again.  

He spends most of the rest of the shift examining Buck’s broad shoulders and long legs. He’s never really looked at another man like this but finds himself unable to stop. He’s still not sure what it all means.

Thankfully they aren’t called out anymore and can go home at the time their shift ends.

Buck and Eddie get changed out in the locker room, Eddie trying not to steal glances at Buck as he switches to his civilian clothes. He’s not as successful as he’d like to be. He catches a glimpse of arm muscles as Buck pulls on his hoodie and Eddie remembers what it was like to be picked up and held aloft by them.

Eddie shakes his head to clear those thoughts. Now is not the time for them.

“I’m following you to your place, right?” Buck asks as he grabs his back and lifts it onto his shoulder. Eddie finds himself a little bit jealous of that bag. He wants to be the one casually lifted and carried around by Buck.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

The two men get comfortable on the couch with a couple of beers when they get to the house. Christopher is at a sleepover for a friend's birthday, so they put on an action movie they wouldn’t be able to watch with a kid there.

They halfway pay attention to the movie as they unwind from the day and idly tease each other about various things they’d said and done that day, just like they always do. Until Buck brings up the thing.

The thing Eddie has been fixated on since it happened.

“I told you I could pick you up. You couldn’t even get down. I had you good.” Buck smirks, proud of himself for his win.

“It’s not like I tried very hard,” Eddie replied dryly before he could stop himself, possibly revealing too much.

Buck turns to him with a searching look, like he’s trying to figure out if Eddie meant what he thinks he meant. The air between them feels different, as they lock eyes and have the type of silent communication that’s always come so easily to them. This time it’s different. It means so much more. They’re opening themselves up to each other in ways they never have before.

Buck all of a sudden seems a lot closer than he’s ever been.

“Tell me if this isn’t what you want” Buck whispers just before he leans the rest of the way in and captures Eddie’s lips with his own. The kiss is soft but firm and perfect.

"I want this. With you," Eddie pulls just far enough away to assure his partner before he deepens it, drawing impossibly closer to Buck. Still not close enough, his body screams. Buck seems to know exactly what the problem is and pulls him across the last distance between them and into his lap, his strong arms wrapped securely around Eddie. Eddie felt a moment of incredible weightlessness as he willingly went to his new perch.

This is what he has been waiting for since that first time Buck picked him up. This is what he has been craving for longer than he was letting himself admit. Now all his barriers are down, knocked out by the man currently holding him.

“Do you wanna take this somewhere else?” Buck asks between kisses, barely giving Eddie a chance to think.

It takes Eddie a heartbeat to process the question but he knows instantly what the answer is. “Take me to bed,” he requests with another deep kiss.

Buck stands with Eddie in his arms in one effortless motion, the two of them clinging together.

Buck proved he could pick him up but Eddie feels like he is the real winner here.

[internalsealpanic]

Dancing In and Above the Starlight

summary:  There is nothing to do but dance the night away.

a/n: Since I am depresso expresso today here is some fluff! 

warnings: Depression, heights, suicidal ideation

You curl your body into the sheets, limbs escaping the gnawing cold. Your eyes are wide open.  You watch as glittering snow falls away. There’s a press of static in your mind. Maybe your brain is finally short-circuiting. You really should have been asleep an hour or two or five ago. Even if you check the clock now, it won’t make any sense. On some level, you are lucid. You recognize the characters on your taped together alarm clock. The red characters on its screen… you recognize them as numbers and letters. Your head feels like it’s full of cotton. 

You shift again. You hit replay on the voice mail. 

Kon’s voice comes over the speaker, a light warm sound cutting through the viscous atmosphere of the apartment. “Hey, babe! Could you grab like 20 cheeseburgers on your way home? It’s- Uuuuuuh… It’s for science. Yeah, totally-”

You replay it again. 

“Hey, babe!”

And again. 

“Hey, babe!”

And again. 

Kon’s voice always managed to soothe you, smoothing out your fraying nerves even on the bad days.  But today was one of the bad days you never tell him about. The kind that kept your limbs locked together. 

You really should just call Kon at this point. 

You don’t. 

You don’t want him to see you like this. You don’t want to talk to him about these bad days. The days when you have to shuck off the quick wit and unbridled confidence. You don’t want to tell him about how you want to open your chest, peel it back bone by bone until the thing rolling and shifting in your chest escapes. You can’t bear to tell him about how on these days red is your favorite color or how good it would be to step out of your skin. You will never tell him about your feverish need to feel the wind as you fall from a great height. 

Waking up like this feels like waking up in a coffin with your hands bound. There is a shriek caught in your throat between your lungs and throat. It sits there sharp and unreachable. You feel so small. 

You shift, looking into the soft glow of your screen. You type Kon’s number.  It’s easy. You don’t think too much about it. At least not until the dial tone. 

You sniffle brushing away the tears as if he could see. 

The dial tone keeps ringing. 

He hates you. 

You massage your throat. You test out your voice. It comes out a mockery of itself.  It’s scraggly and unpleasant. 

The dial tone keeps ringing. 

He hates you. 

You brush away the tears again. They won’t stop. They streak down like fat rivulets of syrup down your face. 

The dial tone keeps ringing. 

He hates you. 

You hang up. You’re shaking and sniffling and you can’t stop crying.  Your body is caught between existing and not. There isn’t enough of your mind there for you to feel substantial. 

Once your nerves settle and your body reforms into something tangible, you pull on a sweater. Your feet touch the floor.  It’s cold like you expect but the solidness of the feeling makes you jump back. You look at the clock. It still makes no sense.  

You slink out to the balcony. You wrap your arms around yourself, phone burning in your pocket. 

You lean you over the railing, head in your arms, eyes fluttering closed as you drink up the scenery.  You can hear the honking of car horns and the flutter of wings. The city below you was alive. A living creature with flowing blood and a beating heart. 

Living was what happened to other people. For you, there was no room for it. Not when you are filled with everything else. It was just a skill you never quite got a hold of. You think this as the wind whistles past your face.

You open your eyes a fraction then shut them again mimicking the shuttering of a camera. Behind your eyelids, you can see the glittering lights of the city. 

Your phone rings. You flinch. Maybe it’s your boss. Or a coworker. Or…

You fish it out of your pajama pants. You debate on whether to answer it or just let the phone fall. 

From this height, your phone would be obliterated. Completely. You balance it carefully between your fingers. If it falls, you’ll have an excuse to ignore your boss. But you’ll have to pay for a new one and more importantly, you won’t be able to listen to Kon’s voice mails. You make an exasperated noise and decide to answer. 

“Hey sugar,” comes the smooth cream of Kon’s voice. It kind of reminds you of freshly made custard. You smother the catch of your breath by pressing your mouth into your sleeve.  “Babe, you ok?”

Of course, he heard. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you breathe, voice sounding frighteningly robotic. 

“Liar.”

“Prove it.”

You can hear the playful hum in Kon’s voice. “I can make you sing all kinds of tunes, hun,” Kon teases. You can just picture him winking. “I’ll make you talk, doll.”

“Hilarious, Kent, ” You bite out, fighting down a blush. 

“Seriously, Sugar, what’s up?”

You hate the concern in his voice. No, no. You don’t. You love your boyfriend. You just- You just hate that you made him worry. “I- I’m just a bit down, Kon. I promise I’ll be better tomorrow.” You run your hand through your hair and you bury your face further into your arms. “I promise.”  

“Babe, tilt your face up.” You sigh, shaking your head but thankful for the change in subject. You tilt your head, keeping your eyes closed. “Kon, wha-” You feel the press of warm lips against yours. They’re chapped ever so slightly and you can smell the scent of leather and popcorn on the wind. Kon smiles against your lips, mischief tugging at his them. Slowly, you open your eyes and you’re greeted by the column of his throat. It takes the span of a few seconds to realize that Kon is hanging upside down, limbs angled like he’s Spiderman hanging from his we b. Your eyes widen in surprise and Kon laughs, realigning himself to face you properly. 

“Lemme guess, you guys watched the original Spiderman trilogy?”

“You know us so well.”

“I just know that there's only one of you that owns a  flat screen the size of my wall and that bastard is a nerd.”

“Don’t call Tim a nerd. That’s extremely rude.”

“He deserves all the rudeness I have to give after last week’s… what’s the word?”

“Fun?”

“Fun?” you snort. “If you find being thrown by a supervillain fun, then yeah.”

“I just call that kinky.”

“I’m going to hang up.”

Click.

Ring.

Click.

“YOU ACTUALLY HUNG UP.”

“I stick to my word.”

“Lil’ shit.”

“I’m your little shit.”

Kon kisses your nose. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“Did you need anything, Kon?” He hums floating away from you drawing out the silence. You are going to smack him. Probably not but you like to think you can stay mad at him long enough to follow through with the threat. 

“I want to show you something,” he says, extending a gloved hand towards you. “It’ll be good. Promise.”

You stand on the balcony railing, feet feather-light. You hold on, gripping the wall tightly. Your eyes do not wander down even as a rush of wind blows the hair out on your face. Your blood is thumping in your ears.

“Trust me?” The words  weigh too heavy sending you into a dizzying vertigo. He can’t ask that of you. He just can’t.  You almost slip. You don’t know whether you would fall forward or backward. You take a breath, long and deep. 

“Kon, do I seem like the kind of person who would just stand on a balcony railing just for anyone?”

“Dunno, babe, you’re quite the Romantic.”

You blow out a breath, shaking hands steadfast on the wall. The drop is dizzyingly long from this angle. The length of it feels mind-boggling and uncertain. 

“C’mon, gorgeous,” he coaxes, voice honeyed iced tea. The taste floods your mouth mixing with the bitter doubt clambering your throat.

He reaches his hand out, grey eyes alight with sincerity. You swallow even when your mouth is bone dry. You take his hand, feet peeling away from the metal as you let Kon’s powers take hold of you. Your skin tingles, gooseflesh prickling here and there. It tickles and it’s almost enough to distract you from the hundreds of feet of empty air beneath your feet. 

You’re light, insubstantial. Your breath ceases. Your body braces for gravity to take hold. Your eyes screw shut, lips brushing against Kon’s neck as you breathe in his familiar scent. A scream is burning in your throat until you feel Kon’s hands firmly on your waist, his chin resting on your hair. 

“Don’t let me fall,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. 

Kon gently cups your face. “Wouldn’t dream of it, gorgeous,”  he winks, “I have better ways to make you scream.”

You laugh, pressing your lips against his, your laughter passing as vibrations between your lips. 

“Are you gonna open your eyes yet, gorgeous?”

“Nope!”

“Not even for lil’ ole me?”

“Why would you pull that on me you manipulative shit?”

“Because I love you?”

“You are the definition of ‘you’re lucky you’re cute’ ”

“No, I think I’m lucky cus you’re cute.” You open your mouth to protest but the syllable die on your tongue. 

Above you is a tapestry of stars extending beyond eternity. Below your bare feet is a sea of lights, incandescent in its vividness. The wind in your chest rises. Wonder and awe and miracles swimming in your veins as you go through vertigo for the second time that day. It was like the first time you saw the racing roll of a jet. A marvel. Pure wonder plucked from the abstract and made solid.

Your breath catches as you take everything in. The world is so wonderful. Your grip on Kon loosens as you maneuver your body so you could see it all. Your mouth whispers something that is lost in the wind. 

“What do you think, sugar?”  Kon asks, grip on you firm. He won’t let you fall. You are slack jawed and speechless. Eyes wide as you stare back into his, all the lights above and below you making his glitter in a barrage of colors. He pulls you close, one arm wrapped around.  A gloved hand brushes a tear away from your face. He kisses your forehead, all softness and warmth. He doesn’t beg you to stop crying or tell you that it’s all going to be ok. He just lets you be. Your head bows, forehead pressed against his shirt. You let the tears fall towards the bustling city. 

Kon rests his chin on your head and you feel the rumble in his chest before you even hear the tune. “Fly me to the moon~” he sings into your hair as he holds you close, his hands sliding to your waist,“let me play among the stars~” You sniffle, resting your head on his. You smile against his shoulder. You feel a giggle tugging on your lips as you two sway in rhythm with his singing. 

“”Let me see what spring is like on, A-Jupiter and Mars~” 

“You are so fucking cheesy,” you laugh, sore and bright and genuine. 

"Still your favorite cheese ball though," he chuckles. You do not argue. You simply press a kiss to his jaw and watch the twinkling lights around you.

"Fly me to the me to the moooon~" This time you sing along, careful not to step on Kon's toes. He presses his forehead against yours as you both sing off key and sway haphazardly in the wind. 

You sing and dance in and above the starlight. 

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

Thanks fir reading!!! Happy New Years. I will edit more later.

Tag list:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-horizon11, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical

[fanficsandfluff]

That Damned Laugh

To the anon who informed me of Rainbow Rowell's RACISM, i am writing this for my love of the characters, not the author's writing skill or fame. fuck her. i am still very much aware of what she wrote about and how she portrayed a character, but i cannot stop this inspiration when it comes to me. (wait to be clear to everyone reading this who hadn't seen the anons and my discussion, carry on wasnt the accused racist book. that was something else.)

If you, anon, end up seeing this and maybe don't like what I'm doing or whatnot, I'd love to hear from you again.

For those of you who maybe do practice Death of the Author, I hope you enjoy!

Fandom: Carry On

Characters: Simon Snow, Baz Pitch

Words: 1,905

~~~~~

BAZ

Simon Snow does not laugh, full stop.

(Well, to be fair I'm not a cackler much myself, but I do at least guffaw from time to time.)

Snow spent so much of his youth being weighed down by the 'Chosen One' moniker and being tormented by yours truly. Still, I know of that little list he kept of things he liked about Watford and all its experiences and people. It seemed he did take joy in most of it all. After all, I'm sure he had fun at Bunce's house on many an occasion.

But just being around him and in this way for a while now, you start to notice. He's seen me laugh. A few times, in fact. And hard. I'm not very proud of it; what that man can do to me and make me do. He doesn't like when I cover my hand over my smile. It's habit, though, I've reminded him countless times. The fangs and all. We're working on it.

But Simon may just smile or huff. I've giggled with him on our particularly soft nights or togethertimes.

All this to say... I've found a new hobby/goal/obsession recently.

Make Simon Snow laugh.

My cheekiness all these years has kept my humor to cruel, lowbrow tones. Maybe it makes me less funny, I don't know. But once or twice I'd nail a comeback or snarky one-liner (of course with a bit of flirt thrown in) and Snow will giggle and shake his head. But that's all I've achieved! A small, pandering, boring -- though still admirably adorable -- (Damn that Snow) giggle.

I've moved on to physical humor. I tried throwing myself dramatically over him when he's in bed, but he just seems to think it's all part of my Pitch flair.

Today I made a minor breakthrough.

I was in the kitchen trying to mix myself a smoothie. Bunce has been gushing about a smoothie craze for weeks now, so I finally figured why not. The damn lid wasn't on tight enough. Not-yet-smooth smoothie shot everywhere. There was a pause as it happened, my one hand on the Liquify button, my other resting nonchalantly atop the lid that didn't do any lidding, dammit.

Snow looked up at me from his seat by the kitchen counter, eyes drawn from his phone. A beat. He barked out a laugh. A much louder one than I think I'd ever heard him make.

"Put a sock in it, Snow," I growled, to keep with my facade, though inside I was jittery with glee. I wanted to hear more.

Snow convinced me to binge a new show. Crime Minds. Something like that. No, criminal. It's Criminal Minds.

You wouldn't expect this to be a series fit enough for a cuddle, but Snow and I are an unexpected couple. So it works.

A few dumb jokes are littered throughout the show, in between corpses and the same police station set being reorganized and shot from different angles every episode. One such joke was so inconspicuous and so nothing that I cannot even recall it now. But both Snow and I chuckled at it. Then Snow made an additional comment to it, making me laugh. And soon we were both giggling together like schoolboys, like we had early on when we were maybe still a bit bashful with each other.

He shoved his face into my ribs and snorted when I whispered the new inside joke much later on in the episode. I was also grinning like a madman, but the soft tickle his action gave me didn't exactly---

Oh.

In bed. Perfect. Lovers fool around all the time in bed. Not fool around as in sex--well, no, of course sex, but I mean they also play around-- never mind.

SIMON

Baz has been acting off lately. I can't quite put my finger on what it is. He seems distracted. More like how I act. I'm always thinking of something else, not able to stay focused on one thing for long. He's like that, but trying to act like he isn't.

We're doing something odd today. We're in bed at sunset. It's hardly sunset, as a matter of fact. The sun isn't seeping orange and red into the flat yet. Penelope took us out on a hike today. It tuckered the both of us out. Baz drained a buck when we got home.

I'm laying perpendicular to Baz (or is it parallel? composite? I could never remember mathematics), my legs resting over his stomach. He's reading and I'm playing a puzzle app on my phone.

BAZ

Now's the time, Baz. Just do it, don't think.

His socked feet are right in front of me. There's only been a handful of times we've sat in this position, half of them being my lower half resting on Simon's sturdier upper half. It's now or never.

I stare at his feet for too long, zoning out and forgetting that I was left staring at them, so it definitely looked like I have a fetish for feet. Which I don't. Focus, Basilton.

I take a finger-- no, two fingers. I scratch quickly at his heel. His leg jerks, foot being pulled back.

"What?" he asks me, as if I hadn't been plotting this for weeks. As if I just did it to get his attention.

"Something on the bottom of your sock, love."

Simon went right back to his head hanging upside down off the side of the bed, phone held out in front of his eyes.

Well, that proved one thing. He's ticklish.

He places his ankles right back where they originally were, crossed, atop my stomach. I try again, this time on his arch. I apply more pressure.

"Bahaz!" Simon shakes his foot out, "Is that how you start a foot massage?"

"Would you like a foot massage?"

"No. Not if it's going to tickle like that."

My cheeks heat up. Damn that buck. I'm rosier than I usually am.

"You're ticklish?" I ask, coolly. I barely stuttered.

"I wouldn't try it," he's back to looking at his phone again, "Penny did once and I nearly broke her elbow or something. She wouldn't stop talking about it for days."

"So you're very ticklish, then."

"Don't," this is the first time Snow seems to tense up.

There's a moment of quiet between us. A tense quiet. I lunge for his ankles and he shoots up into a sitting position. I scratch at his arch with four fingers now and he screams.

"Baz!" Simon whines a bit and he somehow yanks his legs free, not without losing one of his socks in my grip.

SIMON

He's grinning at me. No. Sneering.

I still hate when he does that. Reminds me of back when I wanted to throttle him. Sometimes I still do.

"Baz," I warn. His whole posture changes into a predator's, like he's the lion and I'm his fresh zebra. The new stance sends a shiver down my spine, with his shoulders hunched and all, ready to pounce.

"Baz... Baz, Baz, Baz..." I say over and over again because he's smiling at me, and then I start to smile, too, "Bahaz!" I try once more, but his name is all that's coming out, and now I'm giggling. I'm nervous. He did this to me.

BAZ

He's already giggling and I haven't even laid a hand on him.

"Yes, Snow?" I respond to his many calls of my name before I lurch forward, sending my whole body crashing on top of his and trying to pin him. I dig my fingers into his sides and don't stop for as long as I can maintain contact through his squirming.

"Gehehet off!" he's already crumbling, words being broken up with short laughs.

I slide my fingertips to his stomach and scratch there; Snow bucks. It gets even better when my cold fingers make contact with his warm skin beneath the shirt he's wearing. He yelps like I've never heard him yelp (like he's burnt his finger, but he's also 11-years-old again), and he dissolves into loud, beautiful laughter.

"St-Stohohop! Baz! I'm going to end you!"

"Isn't that how we always said it would end? Snuffing each other out? I'm perfectly happy that it's now going to end in my favor. You should've told me you were this easy to defeat earlier on, Snow."

"Shut up!" he cackles, legs kicking wildly behind me, as my body is thrown over his torso. Now I have both my hands buried into his sides, squeezing and squeezing. I get curious, my cheeks still burning with blood, and I lean down to his neck and... (no, I don't bite) I start nibbling. Snow loses it.

His whole face scrunches up, as I watch when I pull my head back. His smile is huge and bright. And the laughs bubble up from his stomach, releasing softer into the air like he sucked a little of the joy from it before releasing to keep for himself.

"Dohon't do that!"

"I thought you love my kisses."

"Not tha-HAAT!"

He shrieks again, hands too slow to stop my face from moving in. I nibble and even lick a few times, careful not to touch him with my fangs.

Did I mention that my hands are still tickling at his sides and ribs while I'm nibbling? Oh yes, I've waited so long for this sound. I wasn't going to make it come out lightly.

I blow a raspberry and that's when Snow's laughter catches and turns all hiccuppy. The noises are infecting me, starting to make me giggle. I shift, and my face now descends towards his stomach, which is bared after I rucked the shirt up.

SIMON

"TYRANNUS BASILTON G-GRIMM FUCKING PITCH-- OR WHATEVER YOUR LONG STUPID ARSEHOLE NAME IS--"

He's laughing at me. I keep laughing even without him tickling me.

"I swehehear I'm going to fucking kill you and your whole family if you do that dohown thehere--" I'm hiccuping. Crowley, how embarrassing.

BAZ

He's got me. I can hardly breathe from laughter. I keel over into him or he into me, but soon we're a laughing pile together on top of the mussed up sheets on the bed.

I make a loud snort and that reels us both back in again, laughing til we're red in the face and til my cheeks hurt.

Simon is giggling away, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself, but he just keeps on giggling. I'm able to sit up a little more and Snow's head is in my lap. He's beaming and looking up at me through squinted, teary eyes.

"That was fun," I say, and I don't think it's the brightest or smartest thing to say. But I say it.

"I love you," Snow's smile is still wide, like he's drunk from it. There's a moment where I feel like I've died again, color drained from me.

It doesn't seem to bother him, that he's said that. For the first time. I run my fingers through his reddish curls once, letting them tangle in the locks towards the back of his head. I hunch myself down so I can kiss him.

"I've wanted to hear that for so long," I whisper.

"That I love you? You haven't figured it out by now?"

"No, you idiot," I say with nothing but fondness, brushing my nose along Simon's jaw, "Your laugh."

[tainted-wine]

What is Hawks meets someone with a mer-quirk (mermaid-esque)? Like during a small outing to the beach or flying over a pool. I mean birds of prey do eat fish ;).

(What’s the point in a list of headcanons when you’re going to make a hundred and tell a story through them WHY DIDN’T I JUST WRITE A FIC)

Having a permanent mermaid quirk sucks.

What’s that? You have the head of a bug? You don’t have opposable thumbs? Your talons prevent you from wearing shoes? Fuck outta here with that weak shit.

When there’s a fish tail where your legs are supposed to be, you get a loooong list of inconveniences.

Getting around in what’s basically a fish-bowl-on-wheels may sound cool to the kids around you, but it’s really a pain.

Speaking of kids, you still remember that day in your childhood when those bullies pushed your tank over and laughed as you flopped about. Assholes.

So, you’ve grown into a pretty salty lady.

Your house is near a lake. No, it’s not because you want to look like an enchanting beauty. The freshwater is just good for your scales and keeps them from fading or cracking.

You had no idea that the winged hero Hawks even hung out in your area. Maybe he was heading somewhere, and your presence distracted him.

From Hawks’s perspective, the glittering scales moving so elegantly in the water below had put the birdman in a trance.

Not that it’s a valid excuse for him swooping down and snatching you right out of the water.

One moment you were enjoying a refreshing dip after a hot day, the next you were being grabbed by the end of your tail, your world spinning as you’re lifted into the air upside down.

Luckily your screams of terror snap him out of his strange daze, and the sight of you hanging in his grasp instantly makes him let go so that you can gracefully fall back into the lake.

And by gracefully I mean flapping your arms uselessly as you continue to yell obscenities until you make a huge splash.

Hawks takes your rapid fire insults in stride, shrugging apologetically and waiting for you to simmer down.

“Sorry, Ms. Mermaid. I guess for a second there, I thought I was about to catch the prettiest snack.”

You had so many questions. Such as: Why the hell did his dumbass think there are fish the size of people in this lake? What does he mean ‘catch a snack’? Is he really trying to tell you that he hunts and kills his own food?

“Here. How about I make it up to you?” He whips out a pen and something else, scribbles on it, and lowers himself to show you a photo of himself with his signature.

“A free autograph from yours truly.” He looks so proud of himself.

This little bastard…

You answer by whipping around and slamming your tail into the water, soaking him and his stupid picture.

You swim back home without looking back.

At first you’re angry that he returns the next day with a large box in hand. It’s a colorful and mouth-watering sushi platter.

“Thought this would make for a more proper apology. You’re a water gal, so I’m guessing you like seafood?”

You eye him suspiciously. Genuine or not, you’re not going to pass up on such an expensive looking meal.

You both enjoy the fresh fish while sitting at the edge of the lake. You’re trying to not look like a total glutton as you swallow piece after piece with just a few bites.

Hawks watches in amusement as he casually eats his own small portion. He prefers meat that walks on land, but that doesn’t mean he’ll say no to a nice fish.

He tries to explain the incident that occurred yesterday. Turns out that his animal quirk runs deeper than you would’ve guessed. You always assumed that his quirk was only his wings, with no side effects to the rest of his body.

“Sometimes the bird part of my brain gets the best of me, like when I spot a big shiny fish from high up.”

It sounds like a real drag, honestly. You don’t have to deal with any innate fish behavior, just your dumb tail…and the sensitive gills on your neck.

It’s hard to imagine suddenly being overtaken by baser instincts as you try to go on about your day.

Hawks leaves the rest of the platter with you, ignoring your shocked stammers about how much he probably paid for this delicious meal as he takes off.

The visits become regular. Sometimes you share food, sometimes you both just enjoy the view. Sometimes he watches you swim.

Maybe you’re just a simple girl that’s easily won over by food and gifts. Whatever it is, Hawks grows on you very quickly.

He shares the many occurrences over the years, the many times that his primitive urges have endangered him or someone else. Some stories are hilarious, some are rather disturbing.

In exchange, you talk about all of the annoyances you deal with in your life thanks to your fish traits.

The two of you don’t compete or claim that one has a worse time than the other. You just…keep sharing problems.

You’re enjoying Hawks’s company. You stopped denying it when you noticed how much you perk up whenever you see those large wings fly over the lake and towards you.

“You may not be able to walk, but I can help you fly.” He offers it out of nowhere one day. It sounds a lot like a date, honestly, but he shakes his head innocently. “I just want you to see what the skies are like. Walking’s overrated, anyway.”

Hawks wraps his arms around you from behind and pulls you into his chest. The closeness has you so hot and flustered that you might start steaming.

But there wasn’t much time to take that in, because your feet are suddenly off the ground, the ground that is getting further away waaay too quickly.

Hawks feels your panic and slows down to a calm, levelled flight.

It’s scary and exhilarating, being carried so high up. Your tail fin flutters and shines beautifully against the winds as you watch the scenery below you pass by.

 Once he thinks you’re comfortable enough, he speeds up, descending on the approaching city.

Zigzagging past buildings and billboards is the greatest adrenaline rush you’ve ever felt. It terrifies you how close he sometimes gets to crashing into an oncoming structure, only to swerve out of the way at the very last second. But you don’t ask him to stop, the thrill feels too damn good.

Everyone walks. Few people have felt the freedom of flying.

You hear some of the surprised comments below. “It’s Hawks!” “Wow, he’s so fast!” “He’s holding someone! Who is that?” “Is that a big ass fish?”

It makes you smile. You wonder how jealous some of the spectators are. And as the winged hero carries you into the sunset, you wonder how breathtaking the two of you look from below:

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction | Throwing You Over His Shoulder [Request]

A/N: Namjoon’s has hints of smut.

Seokjin:

"I've had enough of it Jin! It's always the same story! I'm done!" You yelled walking over to the front door of your shared apartment, you and your boyfriend Jin were having the same fight you'd been having all week and it was getting on your last nerve. Neither of you could remember how it started but it always ended the same way, he would accuse you of using him for money or cheating and you would be left crying in the corner of the apartment but not this time. You were through with him acting like this towards you,

"Where are you going to go? It's pouring out." You didn't care though, you swung the door open and walked out into the pouring rain even though Jin was screaming for you to come back into the house you persisted forward not giving into him.

"You'll get sick!" He cried out watching as your body began to shiver, you were in nothing but a white t-shirt and some leggings you were going to get really sick if you didn't get home quick.

"Y/n!" You could tell he meant it but it didn't stop you from walking down the street what did however was Jin running over and standing in front of you.

"If you don't turn around right now I will pick you up." You went to move to the side of him but he followed you and stopped your once again, you could see the cogs inside his head turning and before you knew it the world was upside down and you were being carried in the direction of your apartment.

"Put me down right now!" You screamed hitting his back but he continued to walk with you over his shoulder until he got into the apartment where he put you down on the floor safely and stared at you, you were both soaking wet from the rain that was heavily raining outside.

"You're not getting sick!" He yelled making you stare at him, you hated that he was pretending to care about you.

"What do you even care? I'm cheating and using you for money remember!" He sighed at you and realised that the fight was starting to get to you, you had tears rushing down your cheeks.

"You know I don't really think that..."

"Sounds like You do when you say it." You whispered and he moved closer to you, cupping your face in his hand and turning your head to look up at him.

"I'm just stressed-"

"That's not an excuse Jin, I would never ever, hurt you." You promised him and he bit on his lip feeling terrible for everything he was putting you through just because he was stressed with work.

"Come on...We'll go have a bubble bath and order food in." You nodded in agreement knowing you could never leave him, you loved him too much to just leave him.

Yoongi:

"You have to leave at some point," Yoongi said that morning when he came down to find you sitting on his sofa in sweatpants and one of his shirts, he was your best friend. You'd been best friends since you were kids and you'd taken refuge in his house after a nasty breakup with your ex and you ever wanted to be seen again.

"No I don't, I was thinking I could die on your sofa and you could just bury me out in the yard like a dog?" Yoongi had had enough of hearing you whine over a dumb boy who didn't mean shit anyway, he was sick of hearing you cry over someone whose opinion shouldn't matter to you.

"You leave me no other option." You stared at him as he walked over to you bending down a little before you were lifted from the sofa and placed over his shoulder and began carrying you in the direction of the front door.

"Min Yoongi put me down right now," You said in an authoritative tone but he continued walking and he opened the door walking you down the steps and over to his waiting car, where he opened the door and sat you inside.

"What are you doing?!" You asked staring at him but he got in beside you and told the driver to start his ride to work,

"I'm getting you out of the house, you can't spend your whole time crying over someone that doesn't care about you." It was the harsh reality and you knew you were going to have to face it sooner or later, you would just rather it be later rather than right there and then. Yoongi smirked to himself knowing you were going to be sitting in his studio all day and that he didn't mind at all, he would spend all his time with you if he could.

Hoseok:

Hobi was downstairs with the boys having a nice meal while you were upstairs trying to have a peaceful shower, you'd gone around to the dorms to see your boyfriend after work and you decided you needed a shower before you ate with them. You were wrapped in a towel about to step into the shower when you came face to face with a huge spider,

"As I was saying-" Hoseok was cut off when he heard you let out a blood-curdling scream and he jumped up from the chair, rushing over to the stair where he raced up them to find you standing in the bathroom in a towel, standing on top of the toilet seat.

"What!?" He panicked thinking someone had gotten into the house at the way you were screaming, you pointed over at the shower shakily and he frowned opening the curtain to see a spider sitting in the bathtub.

"Really?!" He asked staring from the spider to you and you nodded almost in tears from the spider being in the same room as you, he walked over to you and lifted you over to hang on his shoulder.

"Hobi!" You screamed as he carried you down the staircase,

"Damsel in distress, move out of the way!" You squealed as he walked you through the living room where the boys were all watching the display. Hobi continued carrying you over his shoulder until he got you into the downstairs bathroom and then he checked for spiders, returning to your side and telling you it was free for you to enter,

"You're such an idiot." You giggled kissing his cheek as you walked into the bathroom, holding onto his wrist.

"Will you go get my clothes though please." You pleaded knowing your clothes were still in the other bathroom,

"Anything for a damsel."

Namjoon:

You'd done nothing but tease Namjoon all night and it was starting to get to him, it was the end of the night and you were in your shared apartment getting ready to head to bed.

"I'm so tired." You lied faking a yawn and kicking off your heels right as you stepped through the front door placing them onto the shoe rack as you bent down in front of Namjoon, but Namjoon didn't find you amusing one bit he was more annoyed with you now you were sticking your ass in the air right in front of him.

"Tired? Thanks to you and your little stunt I was walking around with this all night." He pressed his hard-on against your ass pulling your hips back against him and you resisted the urge to moan out from the feeling of him being that close to you and in this kind of position right in front of the front door of your apartment.

"Sleepy." You whined out but he slapped your ass forcing you to turn around, he stared down at you before bending down and throwing you over his shoulder, he then made his way up the staircase with you on his shoulder screaming for him to put you down but with every noise you made he smacked your ass making you giggle out.

"Shut up, you've done enough teasing tonight." You bit down on your lip knowing you were in for it but not complaining in the slightest.

Jimin:

The snow was everywhere there was no way to get away from it unless you stayed inside the apartment that you shared with your boyfriend of two years, Jimin, who was determined to get you outside in it. Calling it the magical blanket that everyone should experience,

"It's cold and wet. No." You said as he stared at you, he was dressed up in winter gear waiting for you to go outside with him, he'd gotten you both some matching gloves and scarves and was determined to get you outside in it.

"Please! It'll be fun." He pleaded looking at you with huge puppy dog eyes but it wasn't going to work, you were freezing without evening being out there there was nothing he could say or do to make you move from that sofa,

"No Jimin, you go out. I'll stay here and get some warm food ready for when you've had enough." You got up from the sofa and walked into the kitchen, getting yourself a cup down so you could make yourself a steaming cup of hot chocolate but Jimin had other ideas, he came into the room and took the cup away from you. He placed it down on the table and then swiped you up so you were hanging over his shoulder, he began rushing quickly in the direction of the front door running out of it and straight over to a huge pile of snow dropping you down into it listen to you scream at him for it but he didn't care, he was just excited you were out in the snow with him.

"J-Jimin." You stuttered but you were met by a snowball to the face and you began shivering more, making yourself a snowball to attack him back with, if it was a snowball fight he wanted it was a snowball fight he was going to get.

Taehyung:

Taehyung was beyond annoyed with you, you were refusing to leave the dorms because he'd yelled at you for now knowing what you wanted to eat so you got into a small bicker about going out to dinner and he confirmed that you were going out but now you were being petty with him. Deciding you didn't want to go out to eat with someone who was going to yell at you the way he did because you didn't know what to eat.

"Y/n, come on." But you stood your ground looking around the dorms for something to distract yourself with, you were never good at staying mad with Tae and you knew once he started trying to make you laugh it would be over for you and you would start along with him and he would think it was okay.

"If you don't come with me willingly I'll force you to." You stared at him and he walked over to you so you backed off but he only stepped forward again bending down and picking you up over his shoulder in one move, walking over to the door and almost hitting your head on every wall you walked past.

"TAE!" You screamed as he pretended to drop you but he had a hold on you and h wasn't going to let go easily, he shut and locked the front door of the dorms and walked you over to the car.

"Are you going to get in on your own or do I need to baby you all night?" You struggled out of his arms and got into the car folding your arms over your chest as you tried not to laugh at the fact that he'd just carried you out of the apartment over his shoulder and into the street for people to see.

Jungkook:

Jungkook had heard you on the phone with your friends a couple of nights before talking about a scene from one of your favourite dramas where the love interests were walking along the streets, and the boyfriend lifted his girlfriend over her shoulder to carry her over the road because she was taking too long. He knew that he wanted to try it with you and your usual date night was the perfect time for it to happen, you were crossing one of the main roads in Seoul when he suddenly turned to you and threw you over his shoulder, you let out a squeal making people stare over at you and you giggled hiding your blushing face in his back as he walked you across the street before he put you down on the floor,

"Was it as romantic as you'd pictured it?" You shook your head placing your hand over it and laughing, you were extremely dizzy from the head rush and sudden giggle fit you'd had when you were up on his shoulder.

"Yes." You giggled moving out of the way of people that were trying to get to where you were standing and he smiled at you, cupping your face in his hands.

"There is one more thing I wanted to try." You looked at him and he put his hands under your arms, recreating his favourite scene from a movie he'd always wanted to do. Lifting you up by your legs so your hands were resting on his shoulders, you’d seen the movie enough times to know what he was doing and it only made you smile at him he turned you around like they did in the movie before you lent down, cupping his face and kissing him softly ignoring the looks you were getting from passers by. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tdpkdN18bu0 (The kiss)

Tagline: 

@yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @kpopfanfictionhoes @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @fan-ati--c @btsiguess-kpop

[zuffer-weird-girl]

What about a fluff scenario when kai and his s/o both were out on the street when they were kids and pops took kai in and not his s/o so kai helped her out while she was still on the street until one day she stop coming to their spot. Kai in his early 20s and going to a meeting with pops and saw his s/o. She is the same but she's an highly skilled assassin and could kill you in an blink of an eye. (I can't figure out an ending😢😡)

"I found some food!" He flinched at your scream before seing you, upside down... hanging from a tree on the park you two usually met.

"You dont even know if that's safe to eat." He mumbled with a stoic face as you giggled, jumping perfectly back down.

"Bla bla bla you always need to make sure not to get sick, bla bla bla-!" You tried to mimicked his voice, smiling widely at the annoyed look he gave to you before snatching the fruit out of your hand.

"You're such a pain.." he mumbled whiel rubbing the fruit on the cleanest parts of his shirt... he knew it wouldn't clean although he could at least fool his pickup stomach enough.

"Oi!" You exclaimed with a mouthful "I am the pain who got yourself some food okay?!"

"Forgot about that part since it isn't always necessary." He smirked at the extremely offended look you had on as he took one careful bite out of the fruit-

He gasped as you tackled him on the ground with some screams as you two fought to at least mantain some balance... yet both of you rolled on the ground like cats playing on the mud. And just when he fought he won you pinned him on the ground as he let out a "oof" when his head hitted the grass.

"You're the worst on fights Chisaki~" you playfull teased him as he pushed you away from him with a huff as you laughed.

"I rather much prefer the nicknames you gave me than this stupid surname." He mumbled while patting himself as you got up with a frow but smiled.

"So I am THAT close to you to call you by your first name? Kai?" You singed his name and muffled your laugh as the pale cheeks of Chisaki started to flush.

"You are most like my only company. Unfortunately..." you scoffed as you got up with crossed arms.

"Since is such a pain to be my side then why do you follow me around huh?"

"Experience on the streets. You have those while I am still... learning." He muttered as you scoffed again. Such a lame excuse to being around you... Kai couldn't lie even he wanted to...

"Yeah yeah right. I'm going to search some food since after that play fight we pretty much lost it..."

"And whose fault is that?" He arche done of his eyebrows up as you poked your tongue at him.

"I will be back soon."

He nodded as you trailed off... although the least he could have expected it was to appear a man to offer him a home... a place to stay...

He was so shocked that for one moment he fprgoted about you... The old man said he was going to get the car just when he was about to ask if you could come along as well...

"So you got the locks now." He widened hsi golden eyes and turned around to see you smiling sadly at him.

"I will ask him if you-" you lifted your hand up with a shake of your head.

"No Kai. The man choosed you. So only you will go."

He furrowed his eyebrows before hearing the man calling for him. He turned his gaze back at you to see you were already walking away.

"I will help (Y/n)!" You stopped on your track and turned to him, with a determined look on his golden eyes "Just meet me on our usual spot and I will help! Just like you did for me, I own you!"

You frowned and smiled, before letting out one of the sweetest laughs he ever heard.

"You dont own me anything. But I will accept that!"

With that you walked away as he felt the man's hand on his shoulder to call him.

.

..

.

.

.

He sighed as he stared at the streets pacing by as he and Pops were sitted on the car. The last time he saw (Y/n) was only a few weeks after Pops took him in... it passed more than ten years since he searched that damn city for you...

It's funny how you never seemed to dissapear from his mind... ever time he passes by your meeting spot, he feels a ache on his chest yet a hidden feeling of hope to just see you back... waiting for him.

He blamed himself for it... he should had been more persistent on taking you back with him to the yakusa... you would have a better life than that oen you had.

"We're here." Pops voice broke out of his thoughts as the old man patted his shoulders "Try to not kill anyone, for our sake yeah?" It was meant as a joke but it came out as a scolding.

Pops would never leave it down his... outbursts on fights for the Shie Hassaikai.

They entered the underground ring and he cringed at how dirty it was that place... blood, sweat, tears, drool, food you name it. All sprawled out on the floor.

Pops sitted down on a table as he mentioned for Kai to stay back as the elders talked and he traveled his gaze around the place in judgement...

"So what about that my fella?"

"I dont rhink is a good idea. My son can be quite... harsh when it comes to these things." Pops muttered while eyeing Kai with a scowl.

"Dont worry buddy. My jewel can pretty much face your kiddo." The man with a cigarette spoke between chuckles as Pops made a thoughtful face before looking at Kai whose only sighed and nodded, already taking his jacket off.

"If your man there defeat then you will have our partnership."

"For sure. But this will happen on a secluded place. We're not animals." Pops spoke on a harsh tone as the other man laughed but nodded.

Kai only scowled at the audacity of the other male as he followed them and listened to Pops instructions on to NOT use his quirk to kill his opponent.

He was tired of listening to those rules.

He entered the place and it was quiet as Pops took his seat and the other elder took his. For a moment he was sure that it wasn't going to happen anything before he dodged with a grunt a chain that came on his way.

A woman with a metal mask covering half of her glace appeared as she dropped from the ceiling and glared at him through her hair.

He mantained on guard yet was eyeing her like she was no other than a piece of dirt.

She came at him running before he grabbed the chains on his gloved hands and twisted them around to cage her and throw his opponent in the air.

"Not so smug now huh?" He muttered to himself before tsking at how easily she freed herself from hsi grasp and landed on the ground on a crouched position.

E blocked her punchs and kicks easily despite from how fast she was being. It didn't even sounded like she even needed sto take a breath.

He used his quirk on the ground to push her all the way and cage her on the wall by the construction. For one second he thought it was all over before a explosion happened and his barrier of concret were broken as she took a knife out of her pocket.

"What's is the meaning of this?!" Pops shouted at his partner whose only laughed.

"Everything is fair on the wat my friend!"

Chisaki only scoffed and dodged all the attacks she made, wincing at when she actually manage to cut his cheeks as he lost his patient and grabbed on her wrist, already preparing to use the overhaul. Although on a moment of distraction when he pinned her down she kicked him so hard on the guts that he coughed as she was pinning him on the ground now, his head hitting teh concret with a grunt... her weapon discarded far away since he kicked.

Only one person would be able to do all of this and not provoke any hives to break out from his skin...

And staring with wide eyes better, he noticed the color of her eyes... (E/c) bright ones...

"(Y/n)?" He panted as he noticed her surprise on her feautures as she unthighten her grip on him and slowly got a bit away from him.

She arched one eyebrow at him, her face was only readable because of her eyes and the way her eyebrows moved.

Still on the ground. He got half of his body up, eyes still wide as the elders asked what was happening.

She slowly took off her mask and thoughts were confirmed. The one he was fighting was (Y/n)...

"Do I... know you? No one calls me that unless..." she slowly got up from him and maintained a safe distance as he grunted while getting up.

"Can't recognize me I see." He sighed, regret could come later as he slowly took his mask off and looked at her features widening in shock. "Kai Chisaki, ring any bells to you?"

It was silence for a bit before you gasped with a laugh and almost tackled him on the ground again if it wasn't from him being prepared this time.

"Oh my GOD! Is that really you?!" You shouted while hugging him as he awkwardly lowered his arms down to give you a proper hug.

"I could ask the same? What happened? You look so different than I remember!" He chuckled wearily as you gave out a hearted laugh, one he missed to hear.

"I could say the same thing to you! Look at how you got! The bony boy I met didn't had those muscles!" You circles around him before stopping and muttering "and such a nice package..."

He scoffed, ignoring the forming blush before twirling around to meet your gaze.

"More impulsive than you used to be, I see." You laughed before noticing the two elders entering, Pops with a confused as heck face as teh other opened his arm in confusion.

"The hell is going on here?"

"Chisaki my boy, you know this lady?"

"The girl I searched for years." He showed his palm at you "Is her, (Y/n)"

"Ah, lovely reunion between two killers. How adorable." You two let out confused noises before looking at eachother.

"You killed someone? You? Whose is scared of cockroaches?" He asked in disbelief and arrogance as you furrowed your eyebrows with crossed arms.

"(Y/n) happens to be one of my favorite and best assassins." The man spoke as Pops furrowed his eyebrows.

"So that's why we couldn't find her. You never reveal your assassins names to anyone, not even bussines neither of partners." Pops spoke as the man nodded.

As the elders talked they stopped to see you two, Pops smilling as the other furrowed his eyebrows at the way Chisaki looked at you and you looked back...

Oh, they can tell how this is going to end by only seing the two old friends reuniting...

[thicctails]

Summer Of Whump Day 26 [Asphyxiation/Drugging]

Three more to go!

Ω

 The warning came too late.

 Omega had been moving as fast as she could, worry clouding her mind as she limped and stumbled her way through the shipyard. Cal held her hand the whole time, supporting her when she came close to falling. His own Force signature buzzed with nervous apprehension, and he kept glancing up at the sky, like he expected a fleet of Imperial ships to come out of hyperspace right in front of them.

 The sun was halfway over the horizon, its pale glow bleeding into the sky and turning the night into a muted pinkish-yellow backed by a sea of dark blue. The light would wake the sleeping clones they’d left on the Jedi cruiser, and she was not looking forward to the lecture they were likely in for when they got back. Perhaps their warning of approaching danger would distract them long enough to forget about her and Cal’s little escapade.

 They were just over halfway back to the ship when the ground began to creak.

 The two children stopped in their tracks, looking down at the smooth metal they were standing on. They stood there for a moment, unmoving. When nothing happened, they started to move again, slower this time. The metal groaned, and Omega gasped when she felt that warning buzz explode into the back of her mind. Suddenly, the ground beneath them gave way, sending the startled kids plummeting downwards.

 Omega screamed, arms flailing out as if to search the air for some sort of purchase. The feeling of dropping into nothingness made her stomach flip and her heart lodge itself in her throat, almost choking her cries of terror. Cal was still gripping her hand, his hold tightened to the point of painfulness by his own fear. She could feel his terror through the bond, and it only served to increase her already thundering heartbeat. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see the ground rushing up to meet her.

 Suddenly, she hit something, the force of her impact wrenching Cal away from her. He fell for a short while more, before she heard him hit something as well. Smooth rubber rubbed against her, coiling around her limbs and wrapping around her torso. The serpentine object snapped taunt, and Omega wheezed when she felt a pressure form around her neck and chest. She tried to wiggle free, but that only made the tightness increase, further cutting off her air supply. Panicking, she managed to get an arm free, and she pulled what felt like a thick wire away from her neck. She couldn’t hold it for long, but it allowed her to take in a few desperate gulps of air before her strength gave out.

 Her leg was screaming in agony, the wires pressing into her injuries. Her neck and back were also aching, though the pain was far less. The Force around her crackled with worry, whispering soothing words that she couldn’t quite understand. It urged her to summon it, to use the power she’d been created to wield to save herself. Gritting her teeth, she listened to the quiet whispers, reaching out and gripping the wire around her neck. The Force guided her movements, and she focused her remaining energy on breaking the wire. The power came to her easily, and the wire tore in half with a whip-like snap.

 Air rushed into her lungs, and Omega collapsed in exhaustion, sagging against the wires. She panted, chest heaving as she took in the much needed oxygen. Her eyes drooped, made heavy by the amount of effort she had just exerted. Someday, she might have more stamina when it came to using the Force, but today was not that day. Against her will, darkness filled her vision, and she fell into a dreamless sleep.

   Hunter jolted upright, a gasp catching in his throat. He ran a hand over his face, sighing deeply. He’d just been caught in a terrible nightmare. In his nightmare, he’d been leaning over the edge of an enormous drop, his hand outstretched. Below him, stuck in a tangled mess of fraying wires, was Omega, her eyes filled with fear but also shining with trust and relief, like she knew, with absolute certainty, that Hunter was going to be able to save her.

 “Come on kid, reach for me.” He’d said, leaning down as much as he could.

 And she had. She’d reached her little hand up as much as she could, their fingertips almost touching as they both stretched as much as they could.

 Then the wires snapped.

 It was like some unseen hand had sliced them with an invisible knife. Hunter lunged forward, nearly toppling over the edge with how fast he moved. Omega had jolted forward, crying out in fear when her hand just barely missed Hunter’s own.

 “Hunter!” Her voice had sounded so broken as she disappeared into the darkness, and it had echoed even after she was gone.

 Suddenly, the inky void had moved, wrapping around his wrist and tugging him down into the black hole. That had been what woke him up.

 Now he was back in the waking world, and the gentle glow of day shone down on him, chasing away the darkness of sleep. He took in a deep breath, easing himself back down. He could hear that no one else had woken up yet, their heartbeats calm and slowed by sleep. He was surprised that his sudden movement hadn’t woken Omega up. Rubbing his eyes, he reached down to make sure that she was still sleeping calmly, needing the reassurance that she was okay.

 He found nothing but an empty space, devoid of the warmth that should have been there.

 He brought his hand down, frowning as he looked around. Their pile was missing two little bodies, the space beside Hunter and Crosshair lacking the children that had been curled up there last night.

 “Kids?” He called softly, not wanting to wake his vode if they had simply gotten up early and were hanging around.

 He waited, listening for a reply, whether it be in the form of a verbal response, or just the pitter-patter of small feet coming closer.

 Nothing. Not a call, not a noise of acknowledgement, not even the quietest movement.

Panic-laced worry rippled through Hunter, and he gave his closest vod, which happened to be Crosshair, who’d had his chip removed last night, a light kick. His youngest brother snorted, rolling onto his stomach.

 “What?” He hissed. Crosshair was a night owl, through and through, so waking him up at sunrise had always left him a bit agitated. It had been such a pain when they had been younger.

 “Omega and Cal are gone.” Hunter said, getting up.

 Crosshair’s eyes widened, and he quickly looked around to confirm Hunter’s statement.

 “Kark!” He yelled, getting to his feet. The others startled awake at his yell, various noises of complaint and confusion coming up from the pile.

 “What’s going on?” Rex asked, sitting up and stretching.

 “The kids are gone.” Crosshair growled, getting on his armor. “Maker damn it, they’re going to make me keel over from stress.”

 “Gone? How can they be gone?” Wrecker asked, sitting up. “We were all right here, so nobody could have taken them, right?”

 “No, we would have woken up if there was a struggle. They likely just wandered off. We all know how curious Omega is.” Tech said, quickly putting on his goggles. “I’m sure they’ve just gone to look for something to poke with a stick, or some other childish game. They’re fine. Totally safe.”

 The words were said to try and comfort, not because he had any real proof that what he was saying was true.

 “Let’s hope you’re right. Tech, Wrecker, Echo, you three search the halls. Rex, Crosshair, come with me. We’ll check outside.” Hunter commanded.

 A sinking feeling had made its home in the depths of his gut, and he wanted nothing more than to find Omega and Cal quickly so that he could shake it off.

   The world came in fuzzy at first, a blurred mess of muted yellows and dusty reds. Cal groaned, wondering why his head felt like it was going to burst open at any moment. He opened his eyes wider.

 Ah, he was upside down. That explained some things.

 It took a few seconds for panic to seep into his frazzled mind, but once it does, he’s scrambling to get upright. One of his hands finds a wire, and he grabs it, pulling himself up. It’s at times like these that he’s so thankful for the core muscle strength he’s built up through his years of padawan training. Cal gripped the wire with the strength of a hundred clone troopers, shaking as he waited for the feeling of dizziness that washes over him at the sudden movement to pass.

 There are wires wrapped all around different parts of his body, mostly coiling around his waist. His breathing picked up, his heaving breaths almost matching his rapid heart rate. He whimpered as the wires swayed, trying to ignore the fact that, if he fell, he’d be little more than a stain on the ground.

 He closed his eyes and reached out with the Force, searching for Omega. He found her nearby, her Force signature dimmed ever so slightly by the veil of sleep. He tried to call to her, but he gets no response.

 ‘She must be really deep in sleep.’ He thought to himself. He was worried that she might have hit her head on something, and that she might be unconscious rather than asleep.

 “’mega.” He croaked. Cal coughed, his throat feeling sticky.

 “Omega!” He called again, louder this time.

 Nothing.

 Damn. Guess he’s going to have to do this the hard way.

 Cal brought a hand down to his waist, gripping the smooth handle of his Master’s lightsaber. He ignited the weapon, the bright blue glow illuminating his surroundings. Carefully, he sliced away the wires around his legs and waist, wrapping his legs around the one remaining wire that he was holding on to. Once he was free, he let the lightsaber deactivate as he clipped it onto his waist.

 When he’d first touched the lightsaber after he’d ended up on Bracca, the flood of memories had almost broken him. His psychometry could be a blessing at times, but it could also be a terrible curse. The Force had wavered in his despair, his connection with it becoming damaged. He used to have a variety of skills that he could call upon, but he had lost many of them to his trauma. He’d regained his ability to throw things with the Force when he’d needed to protect Omega from Chex, and he wondered if, over time, she would also be the key to regaining what he’d lost.

 He shook his head, clearing his mind so that he could focus. Gripping the wire, he started his assent, relying on what minuscule amount of sunlight could reach down into the newly created hole to see. He climbed up the wire, grunting with the exerted effort. He hadn’t been keeping up with his daily exercises in the past weeks, so he was a bit out of shape. Once he was high enough, he started to swing back and forth, praying that the wire would hold.

 Soon, he was close enough to jump to the jumble of wires and cables that were supporting Omega’s limp form. He held his breath when one of the wires snapped under their combined weight, his stomach dropping as he realized that the wires might not be able to hold them both.

 Once the swaying came to an end, he slowly climbed up, relying on his leg and stomach muscles to support him as he gently shook Omega.

 “Omega? Omega, get up!” He commanded, gripping her shoulder.

 The pressure must have startled her, because she jolted awake, her limbs flailing. Cal increased his grip, trying to calm her down.

 “Stop it! You’re gonna make us fall!” He hissed, looking up at where the wires were coming from.

 “Cal?” Omega breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you okay? I heard you hit something after we got separated.”

 “I’m a bit lightheaded, but I’ll be okay. What about you?” He checked her over, frowning in concern when he saw how it was wrapped around her leg.

 “I’ve been better.” She admitted.

 “Do you think you can climb up one of these wires?” Cal asked.

 Omega shook her head weakly. “I don’t even think I can lift my arms. I’m sorry.”

 “It’s okay, Omega. We’ll figure something out.” He reassured her. “Maybe I could carry you up?”

 Omega arched an eyebrow. “I think I might be too heavy for you.”

 “You don’t look that heavy.” Cal responded.

 “Thanks, but I’d rather not risk it.” She said, shifting a bit.

 Suddenly, one of the wires holding her arm snapped, causing her to fall to the right.

 “Kriff! Looks like we might have to!” Cal cursed.

 He reached for his lightsaber, but paused for a moment when a sound reached his ears.

 “Wait, I think I hear someone.” He looked up towards the hole that they had fallen through.

 “These two seem incapable of avoiding trouble. We should have found them by now.”

 “Crosshair!” Cal and Omega shouted.

 There was a flurry of footsteps, and then three faces appeared over the edge of the hole.

 “Kids! How the hell did you get down there?” Hunter called.

 “We fell!” Omega called back.

 “We can see that. Hold tight, adike, we’ll get you out.” Crosshair said, before disappearing from view.

   Crosshair looked up at Hunter, who’s brow was furrowed in worry.

 “What’s the plan, sarge?” He asked.

 “We need to find a way to get down to them. Rex, come with me and help me find some wires or cables. Crosshair, keep them calm. I can hear that those wires are gonna give any minute now.” He lay a hand on the ground. “This whole area is fragile, and I don’t trust it not to collapse, so let’s get out of here quickly.”

 The sniper nodded, and the captain and sergeant ran off to find the needed items. He leaned back towards the edge, hands gripping the weakened metal. Another wire gave, and Crosshair jolted forward on reflex as Cal and Omega yelped in fear, hand twitching forward as if he could just reach down there and scoop his kids up and bring them away from the danger.

 Wait, his kids? When had they become that?

 ‘They day they trusted you enough to save them.’ A traitorous little voice supplied. ‘And now, they’re doing it again. Don’t break that trust.’

 “Udesiir, ade.” He called, trying to keep his voice calm and reassuring. “Everything will be fine, just keep calm and try not to move.”

 “O-okay.” Omega replied shakily. “Crosshair, could you teach us that language you guys have been speaking?”

 Crosshair gave her a slight smile. “Of course, it is, after all, your language too. “

 Omega returned his smile, and managed to stay still as he taught them a few basic words in Mando’a. By the time Rex and Hunter managed to gather the needed supplies, both Cal and Omega could introduce themselves and ask for help. The older clones tossed down a line of wires, old but sturdy rope, and some spare cables. Cal used his lightsaber to cut Omega’s torso free (which startled the men because who gave the kid a lightsaber?) before tying part of the line around her. Once she was secure, he cut all but one wire, clinging to the swaying object for dear life.

 Carefully, Rex, Hunter, and Crosshair carefully began to pull Omega up, inch by inch, not wanting to test the strength of the old materials they were using. While they did that, Cal shimmied his way up his wire, reaching the exit before Omega did. Just as he hauled himself up, the wire came loose and fell down into the darkness. The redhead collapsed onto his back, shaking from all the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins.

 As soon as she was close enough, Hunter grabbed her as fast as he could, bringing her into his chest. The blonde haired girl curled into him, gripping his armor with shaking hands. His arms wrapped around her, shielding her from the world as he hoisted her up.

 “I can hear the metal starting to give, we gotta go.” He said, backing up.

 Crosshair scooped up Cal, letting the kid rest his head on his shoulders. Rex quickly stepped back as the edge of the hole crumbled away with a screech, the metal snapping off into smaller chunks.

 “Go,go,go!” The captain yelled, making sure that Crosshair and Hunter had started running.

 It was like his words had triggered the forming of a sinkhole. Metal collapsed all around them, the rapidly expanding maw of darkness nipping at the armored clone’s heels. A lesser group of soldiers would have been too slow to escape the danger.

 Luckily for everyone involved, clone troopers were anything but lesser.

 Hunter leapt up onto a chunk of ship, gripping a broken wing and hauling himself up with one hand. Rex and Crosshair were not far behind, easily maneuvering their way to safety. Below them, the ground disappeared, swallowed up by the collapsing cavern. Hunter stared at the emptiness, swallowing when he realized that Omega and Cal could have been trapped down there, crushed beneath tons upon tons of metal.

 “Why,” He rasped, looking down at Omega, “did you leave without telling any of us?”

 Cal raised his head, eyes wet with tears that had formed from all the adrenaline going through his little body.

 “I-it’s my fault. I needed to go get my Master’s lightsaber and I asked Omega to come with me. I-I didn’t think we’d be gone very long, or-or that we’d run into trouble.” He stammered. “But then we ran into that ghost, and then the ground broke, and-and-and-”

 “A ghost?” Rex asked. “As in, a Force Ghost?”

 “That’s a thing?” Hunter asked.

 “I’ve only heard of it briefly. When a Jedi Master dies, and they don’t decide to become one with the Force, they can manifest themselves to other Force users.” He explained.

 “So… the kids can talk to dead Jedi.” Crosshair pinched the space between his eyes. “Wonderful.”

 Suddenly Omega gasped, sitting up.

 “OhmyMakerthewarning!” She said in a rush. “Hunter, we need to get off Bracca!”

 “What, why?” The bandanna-wearing man asked.

 “The Imperials are coming! We’ve got to get out of here before-!” Omega cut herself off, her eyes widening in fear.

“Omega?” Hunter questioned, turning to see what she was looking at.

 His heart just about stopped.

 For there, looming high above in Bracca’s atmosphere, was a Subjugator-class heavy cruiser, black as the void of deep space. A fleet of smaller ships appeared all around it, screaming through the skies.

 The Empire had found them.

[jawritter]

When The Lights Go Out

Chapter 12 (Final)

Summary: Life hasn’t been your best friend lately, you lost your job, and are on the verge of losing your apartment. Who knew when you decided to join a Sugar Daddy app that your best friend suggested ina last ditch effort to save your apartment, and not end up on the street, your first and only client would turn your whole world upside down.

Pairing: Mobster!Dean Winchester x Virgin! Reader

Word count: 1306

Series Warnings: Mob level violence, injured Dean, description of injury, creepy Godfather John Winchester, John is pretty much a douche bag, escort services, virgin reader, lose of virginity and all the insecurities and fun stuff that come with it, age gap (23 year old reader; 40 year old Dean), angst, unrequited/requited love?, language, smut, unprotected smut.

Chapter Warnings: Smut, fluffy smut, mentions of character death, that’s about it. Maybe some language.

A/N: Beta’d by @deanwanddamons! Thanks so much love!! Please don’t copy my work!! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!! It’s gonna be a little bit of a slow burn y’all, but just hang in there!

(This fic is based on this request: Could you do a Dean x reader where she is 23 and lives alone in her apartment, she gets fired and can loose her house, her friend tells her about a sugar daddy app, she makes a profile and Dean 40, contacts her, she is virgin and don’t offers sex, Dean is billionaire business man and needs a girl for his business parties,the reader is really shy, blushes a lot, they fall in love, he takes her to a trip and makes love to her on a private island, could it be a series?)

Want more? Check out my masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***SERIES MASTERLIST***

***BECOME A PAREON***

18 months later

The warm water lapped against the ghost white sand as the light from the full moon stretched out  as far as the eye could see over the water’s surface. The warm, thick air seemed to hang lower, hugging your body better than any blanket or coat that New York City could provide you with. 

The sand felt warm under your feet as you made your way to the water's edge, even though the sun had gone down long ago, letting the waves wash up and lap at your feet as you stared out into the open. Your mind was on all the things that had happened to you this past year, and how it had changed you.

Sure, there were moments you weren’t proud of, hell that’s just life in general, but there were some moments you’d treasure forever. 

Like yesterday’s wedding for example. 

Yesterday you had finally taken that leap, and said I do to the man that had quickly become your best friend. 

Dean’s arms slipped around your waist, pulling you against his solid chest, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear in a way that sends sparks right down your spine.

“It’s so peaceful here. I wish we could stay here forever.” you tell him, leaning your head against his broad shoulder as his lips made a trail from your ear to the pulsepoint of your throat before nipping at the skin there.

“No rush to leave sweetheart. Sam’s got everything covered back home, and he needs the distraction right now, so let’s let him run things from there, and I’ll just give orders when I need to from here. That’s the beauty of being in charge, you get to do whatever the fuck you want.” 

Dean’s breath brushed warm against your overheating skin, warmth that had nothing to do with the warm weather as his hands tightened their grip on your hips. 

Poor Sam had been through a lot this last year. Jess’s passing in what was a freak accident involving a taxi cab, one that Sam still insisted had something to do with the remnants of The Knights Of Hell, even though there was no evidence to prove it. He had refused to take a day off since her funeral, always searching for proof that her passing was anything but accidental. 

There was nothing you and Dean could do to convince him otherwise, so you just left him to it. Running things while Dean was gone on his honeymoon might do him some good, give him something else to focus on.

One of Dean’s large hands made its way from your lips to your stomach, ghosting over the skin there, and making you shiver slightly. 

“Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight princess.” Dean said, his lips traveling down your shoulder, leaving little love bites all along the way.

“Did I ever tell you that you need your vision checked?” you tease him, causing him to jab lightly at your  side, and you to fall into a cascade of giggles. 

“Get that sexy little ass inside baby girl, Daddy needs to tuck you in properly.” Dean growled in your ear, giving your hips a squeeze as your breath caught in your throat, his tone alone sending a wave of arousal soaring through your body, and landing somewhere deep in your core.

“Yes sir,” you tell him in your most innocent voice, pulling another deep growl from his chest as he lifts you into his arms as if you weighed nothing at all, carrying you bridal style across the beach, and into the house, laying you down on the bed where you first made love so long ago. 

His body came down over your own as clothes hit the floor, nothing at all left in between the two of you. 

His teeth trailed your throat before he made his way down your body, stopping at each breast, his lips sealing around each one, sucking and pulling with his teeth until you were a moaning mess underneath him, and he was just getting started. 

His lips brushed over the skin of your stomach, as he continued his way down your body, leaving little nips as he went, making his way down each thigh before trailing his tongue back up your body, purposely avoiding where you needed him most until you were practically begging for his touch. 

When his tongue finally made one swift pass through your soaking folds you all but came right there, his name falling from your lips like a prayer as he ate at you like a man having his last meal. Your fingers weave their way through his light brown hair as your body desperately tries to get him closer to you, needing more, until it was almost too much, and your legs were shaking around him. 

Slipping two fingers inside of you easily, Dean starts to slowly pump in and out of you, adding to your delirium until you went plummeting over the edge with a scream. By the time you came down from your high Dean was crawling his way back up your body like a predator stalking his prey, his muscles rippling just under the surface of his skin with every calculated movement. 

Soft lips meet yours in a kiss that was captivating, and intoxicating  as he lined himself up with your entrance, sliding home without resistance, both of you groaning as your walls flutter around him in the remnants of the release he’d just given you before Dean started to pump into you, slowly at first before pushing himself into you at a punishing pace.

This was how it always was you and Dean, so intense, so needy, too much and at the same time not enough. Fingers leaving bruises on your thighs as he grips you tightly, pulling your body as close to him as possible as he continues to collide into you. Nails leaving scratch marks over his shoulders and back as you desperately try to ground yourself as he works you higher and higher until you are teetering on the edge, begging him to take you over. 

When your orgasm finally hits you, you come with a silent scream as he fills you with his warm seed, your walls milking him until you both collapse on the bed. His body weight on top of yours, comforting you, grounding you to what matters, him. 

Sometimes in the life the two of you lived there were true horrors. There may have never been a boogie man in your closet, or a monster under your bed. Those were all things you imagined as a kid, those things you thought were evil. 

No these monsters come in the form of man, and they worked to take everything away from you as often as they could. 

Dean made sure they never got that far, protecting you and the rest of his family. This may have not been the life you had chosen, and the universe seemed to have brought you together against all odds, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

When you were a little kid you were afraid of the dark. Now you looked forward to when the lights went out, and it was just you and Dean, shutting out the world, and all it’s problems that went with it.

No matter what comes tomorrow, what problem, what disaster, whatever, you had tonight, and that’s what you would do. Just like Dean said after Azazel was dealt with, tomorrow’s problems could take care of themselves, as long as you had Dean, that’s all you’d ever need. 

As long as you had that man you could walk through fire together, you were sure of it, and that’s just how you will deal with whatever the future holds. 

Together.

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

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[nagia-pronounced-neijia]

WIP WEDNESDAY

tagged by @ejunkiet

Warnings: Catholicism, somebody being extremely sarcastic about the holiest of the sacraments; if those things trigger or upset you, scroll on by.

So, the thing is, it wasn't supposed to go like this.  He gets about four seconds of, "oh shit" when he puts his foot down inside what was apparently a circle of something.

A whole lot of things seem to happen in those four seconds.  He recognizes the circle -- formed in salt!  He doesn't know much about magic, but he knows you can't write spells in salt! -- and looks up at the witch chief.  She looks over-fucking-joyed, and expectant, and he can't watch that, so he looks to Alucard and Sypha.

Sypha reaches for him, fingers splayed and arms out like she's trying to cast.  He sees the determination locking down her jaw, thinning her mouth, and the wide edge of real fear that makes the corners of her eyes smooth out.

Alucard reaches too, and he's fast.  He blurs red around the edges; Trevor almost doesn't see him coming.

Their fingertips touch.  Sypha screams something, ragged and desperate and horrible --

His hand slips through Alucard's, somehow translucent, like a silk screen or a chemise.  Like a ghost.

Alucard's eyes go so wide, the red burning away inside them out of what's probably rage.

The world falls away.

He wakes with a bony elbow prodding him in the ribs.  He jabs back reflexively without opening his eyes, muttering, "Fuck!" as he does.

His voice sounds weird. 

Those are the two stupid, stupid things he first notices: some arsehole's bony elbow and that his voice sounds higher pitched than it should.

He opens his eyes to find a pew in front of his face.  An actual church pew, complete with the kneeler and the carved cross cut-outs and everything.   Hell, his knees are on the kneeler, how's that for hopelessly wrong?

He looks around out of the corners of his eyes.  He hasn't been in a church in thirteen years, but he remembers how shitty people get about other people not paying attention.  It just looks like a normal congregation; everyone in what's probably their best and the women all have their hair covered.  Their eyes are all on the priest ahead of the chancel.  He looks and sounds and moves like every other parish priest Trevor has seen.

At the front, the priest calls, "Oremus," in that rhythm they have, and apparently Trevor is still a Christian in deed, if not in heart, because he rises smoothly, automatically, with all the rest.

This church looks familiar, he thinks as he rises.  There's the transept with the little crack in its window.  The chancel is a little more in shadow than it ought to be; it takes the shine off the altar, which is arranged simply.

Something is fucked.  He knows something is just in a new land of wrong and upside-down.  He just can't tell what it is, besides his presence.

The priest chants in Latin.  Trevor fights not to roll his eyes.  Yes, yes, he wants to say.   Praise be to God for the Eucharist.  What would we do if we didn't literally eat and drink our Savior?  Praise him, praise him, forever and ever.

Everyone around him repeats after the priest.  It's all such garbage and he's still trying to figure out how the hell he got from the salt circle to a church, and how he's not on fire for being in said church. 

The person next to him jabs him again with their bony-ass elbow.  Trevor jabs back, again, muttering unkind things about their parentage.  The next jab is harder, and shortly after that there's a familiar cuff to the back of his head.

He almost starts looking around more, but fourteen years of getting cuffed for looking any way but forward are very fresh in his mind.  Best not to draw any more attention to himself.

With no better options, he recites with everybody else.  His voice still sounds wrong in his head, and it cracks and feels uncomfortable when he tries to speak lower.

After the Postcommunion, they all kneel again, then rise.

"Benedicamus Domino," the priest sings.

They all chant back, "Deo gratias," and the general shuffling toward the exit begins.

And now that Trevor can actually look around without getting smacked, he's starting to see precisely why everything seems so familiar.  He knows this nave.  Knows this church.  They'd come here his whole life.

And, filing away toward the narthex, he sees four familiar dresses, four familiar white veils, made of fine linen from Targovişte.  They move with the smooth, graceful glide over the rough stone floors that he'd thought he'd never see again.

His sisters.

It hits him like an actual sucker punch, like somebody slamming a chair into him in a bar fight.  His stomach clenches up like a fist.  He makes some sort of horrible choking noise as all the breath in his lungs decides to leave.  He wheezes in another breath, feels it whistling down a throat that doesn't want to open. 

And ahead of them, his mother shines in the doorway, outlined and turned into a smudge by the early afternoon sunlight.

Ahead of her, Father turns.  He makes an impatient gesture, calling Trevor's name.

His whole body feels numb.  He goes anyway.  Now that he's doing something more complicated than standing and kneeling, he can't help noticing his balance is off.  Like he's not just shorter but slimmer, lighter.

Like, for instance, he's fourteen or so.

This can't be happening.  Salt doesn't work magic.  People don't step into salt circles and find themselves in fucking consecrated churches from thirteen years ago.

Near Father, Luminița gives him a smile from under her hood.

Trevor smiles back.  Even if this isn't happening, even if it's some cruel dream, she's his closest sister.

They walk home from church in a thick knot, exactly the way he remembers.  The way he's longed for.

It's Sara, his second-closest, who laces her arm in his and leans in.  The hem of her cap has frayed a little; it needs re-sewn.

Ha.  Like he can talk.  He only launders his clothes regularly because otherwise Sypha and Alucard probably wouldn't speak to him.  And sure, he can darn his own socks, but that doesn't mean he actually does any mending when it needs done.

"You seemed distracted during Mass today," she says, and her voice is the same mixture of high pitch and dry delivery that makes everything short of a threat sound kind of funny.

It's not real.  Can't be happening.  Not.  Real.  Just a fucking vicious, painful dream a witch came up with.  Somewhere above him, Sypha and Alucard are dealing with a small coven and trying to wake him up.

Knowing all that doesn't stop the warmth in his chest, that huge bubble of impossible fondness that always accompanies seeing his most precious people after a long absence.

"Just thinking about things."

It's Luminița who asks, "What kinds of things?"

"Just things."  One good point of being probably four-and-ten again: he can get away with that.

Both his sisters laugh at him.

The walk home is long and surprisingly warm.  He thinks it must be Lent, and that means early spring.  He would have expected grayer skies, the last few flurries of snow, but instead it's all an expanse of blue.  The sun pours down on his head, gradually warming him.

They reach the great gate by late afternoon.  A nod from Father, and Mother takes her keyring from her belt and fits key to lock.  There's a resounding click and then they're swinging it open.  Trevor, as the last one through, pulls the gate shut, listening for the sound of the mechanism.

He still has a hard time believing any of this is real.

He stares up at the stout walls, of good oak and better stone, at the windows with real leaded glass, at the pennant of the Belmont crest hanging from one of the windows.  A hunting party must be away; they only display that when someone's left the house on a hunt.

This all feels… It's completely crazy, but at the same time, it feels right.  Accurate, maybe: it feels like he's walking, all too aware, through a Lenten Sunday that really happened to him.

Father and his sisters go directly into the house.  Except for Luminița and Sara, none of them has ever had much patience for him when he's being slow.

It's Mother who waits on the front step.  She reaches out to catch his face in between her palms.  They're softer than his own, than Father's, but they're still callused and chapped, just in different places.

"You've been out of sorts," she says, sweeping her thumbs over his cheekbones before resting the back of her hand against his forehead.

He doesn't protest the touch.  Maybe he would have, at fourteen, but he hasn't been anywhere near his mother in thirteen years.  Instead he allows it, unwilling even to close his eyes if that means losing sight of her.

"I'm fine.  Just thinking."

His mother hums.  "If it's about Old Marta… Well, you're kind, Trevor, but there was nothing we could have done for her."

Old Marta?  He thinks back, trying to remember.  He has the vaguest, dimmest memory of an aging woman with apple cheeks who always smelled of onion.  She sold cheese, maybe?

His mother mistakes his confusion for something else.  She does the thing where she squeezes his face in her hand.  Squeeze isn't the right word -- but she cups his cheek and grips, and instead of threatening, it's comforting.

How had he forgotten that she did things like that?  Does things like this?

"It's not the fire or the heat.  It's the smoke.  It's very quick -- minutes, at most.  Almost as good a death as a beheading, and then they're made pure and good again.  She didn't suffer."

The sheer fucking irony of those words coming from the mouth of this woman.  This woman, who didn't die of fire or heat, but of being trapped in a smoky little room, who died coughing, is telling him that burned witches don't suffer?

He squints at her, looking not with the eye of a self-absorbed youth, but of a man.  The last thirteen years taught him to read a room, to read a face, to listen to what people weren't saying.

That's why he sees it: the faint tremor at the corner of her mouth, the flickering of her eyelids.

She's lying.  She's lying to protect a boy who's always been a little too soft to be a Belmont.

And that's when the memory finally settles in place, and he remembers Old Marta.  Burned as a witch in the town square in Sighișoara, and they hadn't been able to do anything about it.  It had been uniquely galling to the whole family.  Even Grandfather Rafael, who always focused more on killing what was wicked than on protecting his countrymen, had hated everything about it.

Of course, less than a year later, they'd all been accused of black magic, excommunicated, and burned alive.  Fuck.

[the-sympathetic-villain]

The Stowaway’s Heart - Chapter 2

AO3 | Previous | Next | Masterpost

Description:  Virgil is rescued by selkies after being abandoned at sea and brought back to their pod to recover. Virgil's poor, gay heart may just explode from how attractive they all  are.

Pairings: Analogical, Platonic Logince (There may be more as I go along!)

Word Count: 5148

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, Sensory overload, Dehydration, Anxiety, Fainting (Let me know if I need to add anything!)

Author’s note: I thought this chapter was going to go up like a week after the first, but I wrote it, edited twice, lost 3 hours of editing before deciding to scrap it and start over. But I’m much happier with it now <3 With any luck, Chapter 3 will not take as long!

-

    Shadows shifted slowly around Virgil as he floated through the empty void surrounding him. The distant noise of his own vague thoughts echoed in his mind,  gone before he could even process them. He listened to the murmuring of his own being as the gentle noise nearly lulled himself into a deep, deep sleep. He leaned into the comforting warmth of darkness, letting it surround him as he drifted further and further into oblivion.

    Am I dead?

    The single coherent thought shattered the illusion around him. He suddenly felt himself fading away. Groggily, Virgil dug into the depths his mind, manically searching for any recognition of what had happened to him. The effort only seemed to make him dizzier. Resisting only seemed to cause him to slip away faster. Any feeling of safety fell away as a surge of panic seized his being. Manically, he clung to each thought passing through his mind, feeling them slip away from him. The world turned upside down on him and he faltered, desperately hoping for the spinning in his head to cease. He felt the energy leaving his body as he resisted and the hazy darkness around him threatened to consume him.

    Fuck. I'm definitely fucking dead.

    His mind edged closer to despair, but even as the thought crossed his mind, his certainty faltered.  A gentle tingle started to move across his body and feeling returned to the tips of his fingers. He shuddered as the gentle tingling turn to the burning of pins and needles piercing his skin. The prickling sensation crept its way slowly up his arm, across his chest, spreading to his limbs as feeling returned to his body. Virgil sucked in a sudden breath as he was forcefully pulled back to awareness. He felt his chest rise and fall as he took rapid, wheezing breaths and his muscles went limp with exhaustion.

    Fine. Not dead.

    The bitter thought was short-lived as the sound of moving papers near his feet sent another wave of adrenaline surging through his body..

    I'm not alone.

    The realization sent chills surging up his spine. Virgil tried to open his eyes, his breath catching in his throat as he realized that they were sealed shut. A fresh wave of fear crashed through him as the sound of footsteps approached him. Manically, Virgil pushed himself backwards, yelping in pain as his head smashed against the stone wall behind him. He groaned, baring his teeth at whoever was closing in on him.

    “Be still, dear one. I give you my word that no harm will come to you while you are in my care.”

    Virgil froze, confused.  His initial distrust wavered as the soft tone of the voice above him lulled him into a sense of security. His burst of energy faded and he sunk back into the soft pillow beneath him, too exhausted to be defiant.

    “Good." The stranger paused. "Forgive me for not immediately announcing my presence.  You stirred a few times since you arrived here, but you were not fully awake before.”

    Virgil felt the weight of the bed shift as the stranger sat down beside him. Virgil’s skin tingled as a soft hand brushed his hair from his face.

    “I tried to offer you water, but you...um, hissed at me. It was an unexpected response, given what I know of humans. I would have expected that kind of reaction would be more characteristic of someone of my species than of yours.”

    That voice…

    The stranger chuckled softly and the gentle laugh struck a nerve in his brain, sending his memories rushing back. Images of being caught by the ship's crew and thrown in the brig of the ship flashed through his mind. He inhaled sharply as the sounds of screaming reverberated loudly in his mind. Virgil shivered violently as his last memory came back.

    I was hanging on by a bare thread.

    Too weak to move.

    I should have died.  

    He swallowed, nearly choking on his swollen tongue as he recognized the stranger's voice.

    The man from the boat…

      He actually rescued me.

    Virgil barely had barely had time to process the thought when a cool hand came to rest on his forehead, sending chills down his spine. His initial shock faded quickly and he relaxed, leaning into the stranger's hand as his cool touch soothed Virgil's burning face.

    Logan. His name was Logan.

    “You are still abnormally warm. It would be best if you could drink something." The stranger's hand moved to the side of his cheek. "Do you think you could hold water down, if I assist you?”

    Virgil opened his mouth but his voice was weak, and he barely managed to push out a raspy breath.

    “Do not try to speak, love.” Logan paused. “Can you nod for me, if this is an acceptable arrangement?”

    Virgil managed a small nod as he leaned back into the pillow behind his head. He felt Logan's hand move down from his cheek to his jaw, tilting his head upright.

    “Give me a moment. I will return shortly.”

    The bed shifted as Logan moved away from him. Virgil listened, tracking Logan's movement as he walked to the far side of the room. His attempt at focusing was short-lived as his mind subconsciously started to drift as he listened to the shuffling sounds of Logan as moved about the room. He yawned nearly drifting to sleep at the sound of the pouring water.

    Time seemed to blur around Virgil and he couldn't be sure when how much time had passed when he realized the pouring had stopped. Virgil tipped his head up, listening intently, but he couldn’t hear the sounds of Logan moving at all. A pit of dread settled into his stomach as the silence continued. Dread gradually turned to panic as time passed

    He left me…

    I won't make it on my own…

    I can't—

    A groan had barely escaped Virgil’s lips when a loud, metallic crash broke the silence. A whimper escaped him as his eyes unwillingly peeled open in shock. Opening his eyes felt like dragging hot sand across his pupils, and he immediately clenched them shut. The burning sensation persisted even as his eyelids closed, but the thankfully the pain seemed to be muted.

    “I apologize. I—" Logan's usually silky tone held an unexpected edge of anxiety.

    Virgil curled in pain as the sound of Logan clearing the mess echoed loudly in his ears. The sounds seemed to reverberate in his head, growing in volume with each passing minute. Virgil moaned, reaching his hands up to his ears. He weakly pressed his wrists against his ears, trying to drown out the unbearable noise. Barely registering that Logan seemed to have set whatever he'd been clearing down, a wave of nausea washed over him as Logan dropped down next to him. He bit back the urge to gag from the unexpected movement and started to shake as his heightened senses threatened to overwhelm him.

    Virgil flinched as hands touched his cheeks. Instinctively, he tried to pull away as shivers swept down his body at Logan's touch, but Logan held his face steady. Logan's thumbs came to rest on Virgil's temples and his fingers teased at the edge of his hair as he guided Virgil's face upright.

    “Give me your pain, love.”

    Virgil barely had time to process Logan's words before a wave of relief surged out from his temples, washing down his body to the tips of his limbs. He sighed gratefully as the pain evaporated out of his body and his senses dulled back to normal. He inhaled sharply as his chest opened up and his wheezy breathing became regular once more.

    Logan moaned softly next to him and Virgil felt his grip on his face slacken. Exhaustion was apparent in his voice when he finally spoke again. “Be at peace, dear one. Please, forgive me for my momentary distraction. I did not intend to cause you harm—”

    Virgil heard Logan pause as he cracked open his eyes. Logan’s blurry silhouette was barely visible against the bright light behind him, and after only a moment, the burning sensation forced his eyes shut again.

    “Hold still and do not open your eyes, dear one.”

    Virgil stifled a moan as Logan’s thumb brushed his cheek, sending pleasant tingles across his face as Logan examined his eyes. Logan turned away from him and Virgil listened carefully as Logan shifted objects around off to the side of the bed. With a final splash and dripping sounds of water, he felt the chill of a wet cloth being laid across his eyes. Virgil quivered gently as the chill eased the inflammation in his eyes.

    “Your eyes were not ready to open. You must be patient, and let your eyes rest.” Logan paused for a moment before sighing. “I understand you are anxious to see where you are, but please, trust me a little longer. You will be able to see for yourself soon.”

    Virgil swallowed, disappointed. His face clenched as he bit back the urge to gag on his own tongue, but he nodded tensely at Logan.

    “Thank you.” Logan's words were quiet, and for a moment he fell silent. Virgil couldn’t even hear Logan's breathing as he sat next to him on the bed. When he finally spoke again, the exhaustion in the undertones of his voice was even more apparent. Virgil felt a pang of guilt in his stomach, realizing how far Logan had pushed himself to save him.

    “May I lift you into a better position for you to drink safely?”

    Virgil nodded weakly as his body went limp. He felt a hand on his arm. Logan moved slowly, slipping his hands around Virgil's shoulders and underneath his knees. He paused briefly, allowing Virgil a moment to adjust in his grip before attempting to lift him.

    A gasp escaped Virgil’s lips as Logan lifted him off the bed, gently edging him closer to the head of the bed. Logan carefully lowered Virgil down on the bed with him, slowly resting Virgil’s upper body on his leg and supporting Virgil’s neck in the crook of his arm. There was a brief pause and Virgil felt Logan turn his head to look over at him.

    “Are you comfortable enough, love?”

    Virgil couldn’t help the shivers that gently made their way down his body as he felt Logan’s breath on his neck. He nodded, leaning into the coolness of Logan’s arm as Logan leaned over to the side of the bed. After Logan shifted back, Virgil felt a cup at his lips. He leaned forward, eagerly downing the water. Relief washed over him as the cool liquid eased the dull ache in his throat. Logan allowed him to drink longer than he expected, but still, he had to stifle a pitiful whine as he felt the cup leave his lips.

    Logan laughed softly, clearly noticing Virgil's displeasure. “I do not mean to disappoint you, love.”

    “Logan…” Virgil felt like he was choking as he squeezed out Logan’s name out, but he was beginning to resent his forced silence.

    “You... remembered my name?” Logan's voice was soft with shock.

    Virgil nodded. His voice was barely more than a wheezy breath, but forced himself to continue to speak.. “More… please…”

    Logan hesitated but his resolution quickly weakened. “Very well. I suppose a bit more will not hurt you, as long as you are certain you are not going to make yourself ill.”

    Virgil nodded, leaning his head tiredly into Logan’s chest. A moment later, the cup was at Virgil’s lips once more, and he sipped slowly at the water, savoring the coolness of the liquid as it eased his scratchy throat. Virgil willingly stopped drinking before the cup was pulled from him. Satisfied, he leaned back comfortably into Logan’s cool body.

    “Where am I?” Virgil’s voice was stronger, though his voice was still gravely and rough.

    “Somewhere safe, dear one.” Logan took a breath. “It is an island a good distance off the mainland, but you would not know its name.”

    “Why do you…keep calling me that?” Virgil winced, almost overextending his voice.

    Logan paused, confused by the question. “You are referring to when I call you ‘dear one'?”

    Virgil nodded.

    “I hope I have not offended you by doing so.” Logan's voice seemed almost anxious as he spoke.

    Taken aback, Virgil shook his head slowly.

    “Good. I do not want you to feel that I am taking advantage of your vulnerable position in my care.” Logan paused. “I do not wish to cause you discomfort.”

    Virgil 's hand instinctively closed around a handful of Logan’s shirt and he felt Logan stare down at his hand, quiet as he considered Virgil’s question.

    “I must admit referring to you as such simply felt natural to me. I was not entirely aware I was doing so until you asked.”

    “You don’t even know me.” Virgil grumbled tiredly.

    Logan shrugged. “Perhaps not, but admittedly I'm not well-practiced in concealing my feelings. I care about you.”

    “Why?”

    Logan turned down to look at him. "Why not?"

    "You don't even know me." He growled again. "I could be a killer."

    Logan was quiet for a moment. "Are you?"

    "No." He mumbled tiredly.

    "I imagine you would not be surprised if I hated you on sight. So, why is it so hard to imagine that I might care about you instead?"

    “Why did you save me?”

    “Why would I have left you to die, if I had the capacity to help?”

    “You don't know me.” Virgil repeated bitterly, uncomfortable with Logan's pity.

    Logan was silent as Virgil anxiously awaited his response. He heard Logan sigh tiredly. “Even after all this time, humans still find ways to confound me.”

    “Humans? What—” Virgil whispered, but his voice was weak and Logan continued as if he hadn't heard him.

    “Why would I have to know for you to be worth saving?” Virgil could almost feel Logan’s eyes burning into him. His voice held an uncharacteristic harsh edge but Virgil couldn't stop himself

    “Your friend didn't think I was worth the effort.” He spat out without thinking.

    Logan paused in shock before slowly turned his head away from Virgil. He was silent for a long time and Virgil started to shift nervously, realizing he probably shouldn’t have intentionally antagonized the only person who seemed willing to keep him alive. He opened his mouth to apologize but Logan spoke first.

    “I do not blame you for judging Roman so harshly, but you should know, his hesitancy to act had little to do with you. Roman has people he is responsible for protecting and his thoughts were with them.” Logan paused. Virgil was surprised at his sudden apologetic tone. “His hesitancy still does not diminish the value of your life, love.”

    Virgil was quiet, unsure of how to process what Logan was saying.

    “Do you have a name, love?”

    Virgil hesitated.

    “You are not obligated to share.” Logan yawned. “I only ask so I have a proper way to refer to you.”

    “My name is Virgil,” He muttered into Logan’s chest.

    “Virgil,” Logan said his name slowly, almost like he was savoring the sound on his lips. “Okay, Virgil. Are you ready to open your eyes?”

    Virgil nodded nervously. He felt Logan slip out from underneath him and lay him gently back on the pillow behind him.

    “I must ask that you do not open your eyes right away. Give me a moment before you try.” Logan said as he peeled back the wet cloth from Virgil’s eyes.

    Virgil heard a soft splash of water and felt Logan dab gently at his eyes, wiping away the excess buildup on his eyelids, until the felt almost normal again. The burning had subsided nearly entirely as they'd talked .

    “You can open them now, Virgil.”

    Virgil blinked, looking up at Logan. He could barely distinguish Logan's golden brown hair and blue shirt from rest of the blurry colors around him. He grumbled with disappointment as he tried to blink the haze away.

    “Be patient, love. Your vision will clear soon." Logan chuckled softly, leaning closer. “May I have permission to touch your neck? I would like to be sure that your pulse is regular.”

    Virgil grunted his affirmation, barely distracted from his attempts to blink his vision clear. His focus broke as Logan's hand brushed his jaw before coming to rest on his neck, sending a pleasant shiver down his body. Virgil felt his cheeks start to burn, embarrassed by his body's reaction to Logan's touch, but Logan seemed not to notice. His mind seemed occupied as he held his  fingers to Virgil's neck. Virgil looked up blinking gently as Logan looked down at him.

    “If the question is not too distressing…” Logan paused. “May I ask what happened to the ship you were on? The upper deck was in quite a state when we finally dared to board.”

    Virgil closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. “I don't know.”

    Logan paused, confused. “You know nothing of what happened?”

    “I assume the ship was boarded, but by who or why, I don't know anything. The screaming and yelling woke me from my sleep that night, but I was trapped in my cell below deck.” Virgil felt himself grinding his teeth for moment before he forced himself to stop. “I couldn't do anything but sit there and listen to the screaming, until—”

    "Until what, love?" Logan asked cautiously.

    "Until two of them found their way down to where I was being kept." Virgil felt numb at the memory. "They almost took me with them."

    Virgil's intonation seemed to give Logan pause. "Would that not have been better than being left in your cell?"

    "No," Virgil's voice dropped as he sifted through the unpleasant memories. "They cornered me, talking about what they could do with me. Easy money was all that was on their minds. Being left to die was a mercy compared to what could have happened. Fortunately, it seems I wasn't worth the effort."

    Logan hesitated, staring down at his hand on Virgil's neck, unsure if he wanted to continue. “Why were you being kept in a cell, Virgil?”

    “I got caught stowing away on the ship.” Virgil relaxed, relieved at the distraction from the memories playing back in his head.

    “I am unfamiliar with that particular phrase.” Logan said uncertainly.

    Virgil shrugged. “I snuck on the ship without paying for passage and I got caught hiding in their supplies.”

    Logan was quiet for so long that Virgil finally opened his eyes to look up at him, squinting through blurry vision. When Logan finally spoke, his voice quivered with barely concealed anger. “That small of an offense warrants imprisonment?”

    Virgil shrugged uncomfortably. “I didn't pay them and I was on their ship.”

    A low, guttural growl sent a chill down Virgil’s spine. Logan’s voice had a rough edge as he fumed. “You humans' greed is so great that a few lost coins is reason enough to take someone's freedom? That is an abhorrent practice.”

    Virgil shuddered at the anger in Logan's voice, shrinking back into the pillows but Logan seem to have forgotten he was there. Logan's breath was ragged as he raged. Virgil blinked wildly, suddenly uncomfortable being blinded. He sighed with relief as his vision finally came into focus and he was able to look up at Logan.

    Oh no…

    Virgil swallowed and his heart started to pound in his chest.

     He's really pretty…

    He held his breath as his gaze drifted from Logan’s soft looking hair down his sharp jawline. Virgil paused to stare at his icy, grey eyes. They looked volatile, like the clouds over the ocean as a storm approaches. He shivered, pulling his attention away from Logan's eyes, letting his gaze drop further. The top of Logan’s blue, silk shirt was open, exposing the top of his chest. He groaned throwing his head back into the pillow, his heart racing in his chest as he took in Logan's appearance.

    What is wrong with me—

    Virgil flinched as Logan's head spun down to him, but when he peeked his eyes open to look up him. A soft concern filled Logan’s eyes. All sense of danger disappeared as Logan leaned over him apologetically.

    “Oh, love. I am sorry.” Logan's voice quivered. “My anger was not intended for you. I did not mean to distress you.”

    Oh fuck. Those eyes—

    “Not distressed...” Virgil squeaked out, nervously cutting off his own thought.

    Logan looked down at him confused. “Your vocal tone and increased rate of your heartbeat lead me to believe otherwise.”

    Virgil’s gaze flicked down to Logan’s fingers in his neck.

    Fuck. I guess lying is off the table.

    “I'm not scared.” Virgil whispered desperately as he clenched his eyes shut, trying to slow his heartbeat.

    Logan paused, confused at Virgil’s words. “Well, that statement was at least more truthful than the last.”

    Fuck.

    Logan continued, trying to make sense of Virgil’s reaction. “The rate of your heart slowed as you closed your eyes—”

    Fuck.

    Logan was silent for a long time, before Virgil had the courage to peek up at him. His bravery faltered as he noticed Logan looking down at him with an annoyingly, coy smile.

    “You were finally able to see me clearly.” Logan laughed quietly. “Am I right, Virgil?”

    The edges of Virgil’s vision blurred as his breathing became ragged.   There was no use in denying anything. He desperately tried to catch his breath, unable to calm himself.

    I'm going to faint.

    Who does that?

    Who actually faints over finding someone attract—

    A pleasant tingling shot down his body as Logan’s hand gently moved from Virgil’s neck to his jaw, guiding his face up to look into Logan’s eyes. Virgil nearly lost himself looking into Logan’s eyes as he leaned in close to Virgil’s ear, inches from his neck.

    “Tell me, Virgil.”

    Virgil moaned at the feeling of Logan’s breath on his neck.

    “Do you like what you see?”

    All meaningful thought left Virgil’s mind as he listened to Logan's silky voice in his ear. His breath caught in his throat as darkness crossed his vision and he fainted back into the pillow.

-

    Logan chuckled softly to himself, reaching up to brush away the hair that had fallen into Virgil's eyes. Perhaps that hadn't been the most gentle way to put his guest to sleep, but it was certainly the most entertaining. He leaned back from Virgil, watching him as he snored peacefully. Logan sighed, smiling as he checked Virgil’s vital signs one last time before reluctantly standing to leave.

    “Sleep well, Virgil. I will return to you soon.”

    A deep hum echoed in Logan's ears as he turned to the door, drowned out only by loud, metallic creaking of the door. He cast a soft look over his shoulder at Virgil as he slipped out into the network of tunnels running underneath the island. He paused as the the door slammed shut behind him. Reaching into his pocket, Logan pulled out a heavy, metal key. He looked down at it in his hand for a moment, feeling a pang of guilt as he slipped in the lock, turning it until he felt the lock click shut. Locking his guest in his room felt unnecessary, especially given that Virgil couldn't even sit up without assistance, but it was a necessary precaution. He sighed, reminding himself that this was a temporary solution.

    He turned to leave, pressing his wrist against his ear. The previously dull hum in his head was becoming insistent. He had been kept away from his pelt much longer than he had intended and it was calling to him. Logan increased his pace, winding his way deeper into the island. He breathed heavily. The call of his pelt seemed to resonate with the stone walls around him, reverberating back at him with even greater force. Logan could feel himself fading as he turned the last corner. He was barely aware of the dim, amber light flickering in the doorway as he approached. His body shook as he stopped in the doorway. His eyes glazed over as the call of his pelt consumed him. Logan felt himself disappearing from his body as the world seemed to fall away from him.

    “Logan?!”

    The panicked voice barely registered in his mind as he disappeared deeper in his mind, overwhelmed by the call of his pelt. Vaguely, he felt hands on his arms.

    “Hold on, Lo. I've got you.”

    An eternity seemed to pass as Logan stood there. Unable to even feel if the hands were still touching him, he ached for his pelt, feeling like a stranger in his own skin. A voice spoke next to him, but the words were muddled, unintelligible among the noise in his head.

    The haze in his mind broke as his soft pelt brushed against his skin as it was pushed into his chest. Gently, he felt the world come back to him, and he wrapped his arms tightly around the grey, spotted fur burying his face in its warmth.  Arms wrapped around his shoulders as his awareness of his surroundings gradually returned to him. The grating sounds around him fell silent and he felt whole once more.

    “I hate this feeling, Roman.” Logan murmured into Roman’s chest as he relaxed.

    “I know, Logan. Please, forgive me. I'm so sorry I have to ask this of you."

    Logan pulled out of Roman's grip and looked up at him. He noticed Roman’s own dark brown pelt was wrapped around his neck as his pitiful eyes looked down at Logan. He smiled appreciatively up at Roman but his tone was serious. “I made this decision, Roman. You do not need to ask for my forgiveness. Any responsibility for my current state lies solely on my own shoulders.”

    Roman stared down him sympathetically. “Regardless, Lo. You're family and I hate seeing you suffer, especially for the sake of some human.”

    “His life is no less valuable than mine, Roman.” Logan said tiredly.

    “If I thought he believed the same about you, I'd agree with you, but humans never do.” Roman exhaled bitterly.

    “Virgil is different. He barely seems to think his life is worth my time, let alone worth more than my own life.” Logan glanced up to see a skeptical look on Roman’s face.

    “Virgil?”

    “The human.” Logan corrected himself. He hung his head at the serious look in Roman's eyes.

    “Don't get attached, Logan. He's not staying. As soon as he's well, he will leave.” Roman voice was empathetic but firm.

    Logan took a deep breath, crossing his arms nervously in front of him. He hung his head lower. His voice was barely a whisper. “I connected with him, Roman.”

    A heavy silence hung between them. When Roman finally spoke, Logan shuddered at the edge in his voice. “You what?”

    “I connected with him, Roman.” Logan’s voice was stronger, though he couldn't help as his voice quivered at the end of his sentence.

   “You already have—” Roman yelled, but Logan cut him off.

    “I know.” Logan spat out. "I did not ask for this, Roman."

    “That’s not even possible. He's human, Lo.”

    “It is an unlikely occurrence, but not impossible, Roman.” Logan muttered, unable to meet Roman’s gaze. His stomach twisted with guilt for defying Roman’s authority, even if he did so unwillingly.

    “Logan, you don't know what you're saying—"

    Logan head shot up to Roman, anger burning in his eyes as he interrupted him. “Are you suggesting I do not know what a soul connection feels like, Roman?”

    “No. Of course not, Logan." Roman’s face immediately softened.  "I'm just... surprised. Does he know?”

    “I do not believe Virgil knows about the existence of soul connections.” Logan looked away guiltily.

    “I wasn't referring to the human, Logan.” Roman said flatly.

    “No, Roman. I have not seen him since we returned from the ship.” Logan looked down at his feet. “I am planning on going him after I leave here.”

    “You'll tell him tonight. Won't you?”

    “Yes, Roman.” Logan said bitterly.  “I am aching to tell him. You know I would not deceive him.”

    “I know, Logan.” Roman stepped forward, gently pulling Logan into another hug. “I don't mean to interrogate you. I trust you. This whole situation just makes me nervous. We still don't even know this human's role in what happened to that ship.”

    “Virgil is not responsible. He was imprisoned where we found him the entire time the ship was attacked." Logan yawned, leaning into Roman's chest.

    “Lo, your willingness to trust people is endearing,” Roman sighed, looking down at him. “But this human could simply be lying to you.”

    Logan shook his head. “I was checking his heartbeat, when I asked. I would have been able to tell if he was lying. It was steady the entire time he talked about it, and given how he reacted to other things I said to him, I believe it is a safe assumption that he is not practiced in concealing his emotions.”

    Roman raised an eyebrow at him. “Did the human know what you were doing?”

    Logan shook his head, barely looking up.

    “You’re a bastard, Logan.” Roman couldn’t help cracking a smile as he released Logan.

   “I have been called worse.” Logan smirked tiredly at him and shrugged as he swayed tiredly. “I honestly doubt he would have refused if I had told him what I was doing, but this way the results are more compelling.”

    Roman nodded absently. “They aren't absolute though, Lo. You still need to be cautious. Even if he wasn't responsible for that ship, he could still be dangerous, especially if he got a hold of one of our pelts.”

    “Virgil is not a danger to us.” Logan barely managed to stifle a yawn as he spoke.

    “I know you mean well, but trusting the wrong person has gotten you in trouble before, Lo." Roman sighed sympathetically. "All I'm asking is that you keep your guard up.”

    “I will, Roman.” Logan smiled weakly at him.

    “Good.” Roman put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to the door. “Now, go get some rest. You’ve done enough for today.”

    Logan nodded, letting Roman lead him out. He turned his head back over his shoulder at Roman. A small appreciative smile crossed his face. “Thank you, Roman. For allowing me to save him.”

     Roman laughed, giving him one last gentle push out the door. “Don't worry about it, Lo. I'm here to look out for you. Regardless of whether I approve of your decisions or not.”

    Logan nodded, smiling tiredly as he wrapped his pelt around his shoulders and made his way out into the network of caves. He yawned loudly, looking forward to some long overdue rest.