#thanks for existing scars part 1 and 2

[casekt]

It's just, the fact that she doesn't know her own name, nor her birthday, that her mother never gave her either, that she doesn't know her mother's name, that her mother shaved her head, painted her face, and put her in doll clothes for as long as she can remember being alive, that she didn't have her own bed and slept under her mother's, that she had to hide when her mother had "friends" over, that when she was found and dragged out by the wrist by one of these "friends", her mother didn't claim her as her daughter, that the "friend" wanted her to "join them", how that's what made her mother leave her and never come back, without saying a word

[trashogram]

He Chose You (P. 4)

Lucifer/Reader - Lucifer picks you to be his baby mama. Rated E

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

You’re resting against the trunk of a tree at the top of a little hill.

It’s picturesque — the hill is gentle, sloping down to a field of tall yellow-green grass. You can smell it, wafting up with the pollen from golden flowers. The sky above is alive with pinks and oranges bleeding into yellows and whites. A symphony of coos, chirps and pitter-patters of tiny things skittering around have an oddly calming effect as you settle back and allow yourself to exist. 

Eyes closed, you hear the sound of something larger than a mouse rounding the tree trunk. 

“I got it!” A feminine voice breaks the calm.

You don’t have to look to feel the other person at your side. They lower themselves to the ground, knees brushing against yours when they cross their legs to sit next to you. 

You don’t have to look, but you do. 

There’s a woman with you now, with hair so long and blonde it’s almost white. Her chin, lips, nose, and eyes are delicate and soft.

She’s not wearing any clothes, and you can see faint scars and wrinkles against the uninterrupted expanse of her skin. 

“It’s so pretty, I’ve never seen one so red.” The woman is happy to see you, speaking with all the familiarity of a sister. 

She presents an apple to you, taken from behind her back like a surprise. 

It is red. Red like an oversized ruby, or a still-beating heart full of blood. All except for the missing chunk made by delicate teeth, yellow-white meat peeking through.

You accept her offering without a word. Even when it’s imperfect, you’re mesmerized by the fruit.

“I took a bite. I’m sorry.” She gazes at you, eyes flinty. “Does that bother you?”

You shake your head vehemently, holding the apple between your hands as if it’s the most precious thing in the world. “No, of course not.”  

The woman’s lips quirk up into a satisfied smile, growing bigger when you lift the apple to your mouth and bite into it. The taste is extraordinary — sweet juice bursts against your tongue when the crisp flesh gives under your teeth with barely any resistance.

You savor the first bite out of necessity but soon you’re ravenous. You can’t get enough. 

Your companion exhales gently through her nose and looks up at the colorful sky. She seems to relish in the breeze that passes by, making the leaves above you rustle and the tall grass ahead blow back quietly. 

The apple is almost gone when she looks back at you, teeth showing as she grins. “Careful there!”

She giggles, reaching out to tap the hand of your hand in warning. It’s all playful, even when you pout and draw back. 

“You’ll eat the seeds if you keep that up.” She says. “Something might take root and grow if you do.” 

Her words give you pause, but only for the length of four or five heartbeats. The core of the apple is no less refreshing and before you know it, you’re holding the stem. 

“Thank you.” You tell her earnestly. 

The stem rolls in your palm, until it appears to wiggle and your brow furrows. In the back of your mind, you think you should be more startled to see it moving on its own. But when it grows pink-gray and ringed, and you realize it’s a worm, you simply place the flat of your hand on the ground below and watch it find its way into the dirt. 

Sudden warmth against your cheek has you looking back up. The woman is inches from your face. Her eyelashes are dark and long and you could count them if you wanted. 

The woman kisses you without a word, hands coming up to cup the back of your head. Surprise does spark up your spine as her tongue darts behind your lips. It’s as if she’s drinking deeply from you before she lets go. 

“Forgive me. I wanted another taste.” She giggles again. “It’s even sweeter than I remember.” 

Your face burns. You open your mouth, ready to ask the questions burning the tip of your tongue before the thud of footsteps sound from behind you. 

She frowns, light leaving her eyes as she glances behind your shoulder. “Oh I was hoping we’d have more time.” 

Her eyes cut across to yours. “Wake up before he sees you!”

———

A wave of pure, unadulterated nausea swept over you as soon as you opened your eyes. You laid still for a long moment, trying to reign in the urge to vomit before you deemed it safe enough to observe your surroundings. 

A vague sense of confusion surfaced through the malaise when you realized that you were in your living room. There was a carmine blanket tucked around you, and with moderate difficulty you raised your head to see that, yes, a fluffy pillow was resting under your head.

Your reality conflicted with the still-present smell of tall, wet grass and a chill from the summer breeze against your skin.

With ridiculous care, you turned your head back into the pillow and muffled a whine. You couldn’t recall feeling a hangover of this caliber ever before in your life.

‘Wait.’

You weren’t hungover. Well, maybe you were but not from alcohol. 

Your neighbors had invited you to dinner, then drugged you. 

Already sick, you forced yourself to breathe deeply before shifting on the couch and pulling up the blanket. Despite confirming that your body was still clothed, you found yourself shaking. 

It didn’t make sense to you how anyone could do this regardless of their intentions. You could not fathom why two people willing to harm you in one way hadn’t done more than that. 

Your relief was short-lived, as dull and diluted as it was, when you twisted to lay back down and came face-to-face with:

A black glove, some aspirin and a glass of water sat on your coffee table.

You blinked rapidly.

There was a small business card in stark contrast to the otherwise colorless ensemble. It was thick stock, white, and flashing fancy golden script:

Lucifer Morningstar

Your stomach dropped as an unnaturally white face with glowing yellow and red eyes flashed in your mind. 

The hallucination you’d seen last night — his image faded from your mind and you were left drifting in a blank, black void. 

No thoughts. 

———

The headache and nausea were considerably lesser when you woke up again. 

Looking at the items on your coffee table — ‘glove, aspirin, water still there’ — you looked at each one and for one, strangely hopeful moment you didn’t see a card. 

Oh no, it had just fallen on the floor. 

———

Lucifer Morningstar 

It was an odd business card, with its little red, white and gold designs on the edges. Fireworks, you eventually guessed. The ‘i’ in both first and last name were punctuated with them as well. 

As you’d popped the aspirin in your mouth and downed the water, you flipped the card over. You could feel your eyebrows rising to your hairline at the hastily written message on the back:

Proof you weren’t dreaming. 

Please Call Me

1-666-666-6669

Pacing was out of the question. Your limbs were still unsteady no matter how much you willed them to function. 

You were trapped on the couch trying to accept what your brain had been screaming at you since you awoke for the fifth time. 

How much time had passed? 

                                      Heaven and Hell were real, and so were God and the Devil. 

            And the Devil had paid you a visit. 

———

The indent you’d made into your stupid, hand-me-down sofa was probably permanent now that you’d spent who knows how long just rotting there. 

Contemplating, processing, fearing. 

Fleeting memories of tantrums you’d thrown as a child paralyzed you. Moments in your life that you’d already regretted so much they kept you up some nights — randomly, provoked by nothing — piled up in your brain. Each one harshened that sinking feeling inside your body. This kind of horror was the kind a person feels right before they die. 

How long have you been judged from above for your wrongs?

Were you already doomed to Hell? Is that why Lucifer himself wanted ‘to meet’ you? Did he make it a personal habit to visit each lowly sinner and taunt them?

God was real, so did everything actually happen for a reason like so many said? 

Why did bad things happen to good people? 

Was your dog in heaven, waiting for you and you’d already disappointed her by getting a one way ticket in the opposite direction?

———

You figured out that the ringing in your ears was actually your phone’s alarm when the natural lighting in your apartment was almost gone. 

You managed to get to it on the other side of the room half-stumbling from your seat. 

“Hello?” You rasped.

“… So you finally decided to answer your phone.”

———

It took you banging on the door and shouting against its old, glossy surface before Cass Farrow cracked it open. 

A myriad of expressions crossed her painted face before she opened the door fully. When she faced you, she smiled. 

“Honey! It’s been days! We didn’t wanna bother you but we were worried! It’s good to see you up and about!” 

The way she acted, as if nothing was wrong, as if the world had turned upside down, had you balling up your fists. Your ragged nails delved into the skin so deeply you could feel the sting of blood.

“I-I need…” You couldn’t stop the copper taste of saliva filling your mouth. 

You would not throw up. “I need to speak to your boss.”

Cass blinked owlishly at that. “My what?”

‘Why? Why? Why are you shocked?’ You shouted in your mind.

“Oh honey,” The low tone did nothing to soothe you, only raise your ire. “I don’t know what —” 

“The Devil!” Your raised voice made the elderly woman jump. “Or Lucifer, or Baphomet — whatever the fuck you call him! I need to talk to him.” 

You scrambled to grab the business card you’d stashed in your pocket. 

“You had him in your apartment, so I know he’s in there somewhere.” You said while waving it in Cass’s face frantically. 

It was deja vú when Mrs. Farrow eyed the card and her face paled considerably. 

“Oh.” 

———

Lucifer wasn’t ‘home’. At least, he wasn’t in his personal Airbnb via the Farrow residence. 

However, Cass waved it away. “He’ll think it’s you or about you or something to do with you and come running.”

Trying to push yourself and demand she tell you more proved to be too difficult. All you could do is stand with your arms crossed, waiting while the (clearly practiced) worshiper combined a series of dried plants in her hands. 

Cass gathered them up and laid them carefully on a side table before fiddling with the furnace and a long lighted match.  

The fire blazed to life instantly from the little flicker it had begun as when Cass threw the plants in. It rose higher, and higher, until it had disappeared past where you could see behind the lintel. 

You had it in you to be stunned when Lucifer appeared from out of those flames. He was perfectly pristine and intact when he stepped out, hunching slightly to avoid his top hat bumping into the smoke chamber. 

The devil was as you remembered him, but also worse in that you couldn’t reassure yourself that his visage was merely a product of your fucked up, overly-imaginative little brain. 

He was so… white.

His skin was practically blinding as freshly-painted walls hit by a sunbeam. 

Lucifer stepped into the room with a flourish. “I came as soon as I coul-”

‘Fuck.’ You’d been spotted. 

And there went Cass, out of the living room to hide away in her smelly kitchen. 

“You’re here!” Lucifer cajoled, theatrics on full display as he beheld your presence. 

The top hat came off, held in his hands as he graced you with a bashful smile like he was some gentleman caller and not Not-Satan. 

“I-I didn’t expect to see you here waiting! But I’m so glad you are. Did you get my card? I thought about just leaving the glove because the card can seem so impersonal —”

“I just got fired.” You blurted out. 

The unusually flat face contorted into an anguished expression. “You… you lost your job…?”

“Because of you.” 

“B-because of me ?!” His already youthful tenor of a  voice raised some octaves. “What —”

You pointed a finger in his direction. “Yes! You !”

“You appeared out of nowhere and fucked up my entire worldview. I've had existential crisis-es… cris-ies? I don’t fucking — I’ve had life-altering spirals before but that was fucking nothing compared with this!” 

“And now I’m out of a job and I’m alone in a city I don’t fucking know with cult-worshipping neighbors because I can’t go back to where I was and you’re just standing here like you have no idea why I’m upset!” 

You hadn’t expected to get this far. You hadn’t expected to go on a tirade at all, really. Distantly you felt tears sliding down your cheeks and the frantic beat of your heart in your ribcage. 

Shame, guilt and fear began toiling deep inside you. 

Lucifer had been backed against the wall, hands raised placatingly and expression mirroring your own internal panic. It quickly turned into concern as he took in your sorry state of being. 

“Please, no.” He reached out for you and you retaliated by jolting out of reach. “Oh please don’t… I’m sorry. I'm so sorry. I never… if I’d known…”

He was reaching into his coat and pulling something out before your sight cleared. It was a handkerchief with the red moniker L.M. on one corner. 

The King held it out to you like a peace offering. Or a white flag.

The force with which you snatched it out of his hands was unnecessary but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“You said you picked me. What did you mean by that?” You mumbled into the handkerchief. 

Lucifer’s mouth screwed up into a frown, brow creasing. “We don’t have to talk about that —”

“No.” You made eye contact, watching him squirm. “We need to talk about it. Explain it. Now.”

“Ahh… ok, yes, um…” He fiddled with the bow tie at his collar. “Well, like I said before, I wanted to wait until we got to know each other because… because it’s kind of a big deal.” 

Your stern frown implored him to continue.

Lucifer winced. “It’s sort of a-a favor I wanted to ask of you. And I thought that if we talked about it over time maybe it wouldn’t sound so monumental… but actually, now…”

The fidgeting worsened, and his nimble fingers had graduated to fussing with the clasps down his front. Eventually, Lucifer yanked his jacket down to straighten it. 

“So, I’ve been around for a really, really, really, really long time.” The Devil started. “And I’ve kind of been on my own for *like* ever and that’s fine, whatever, can’t complain. Normally it’s all about warding off boredom.

“But! Lately, it’s been harder and harder to just —” He made a fist and punched down onto the palm of his other hand to elucidate. “— Just, ahh, not be bored? I guess?”

“And it’s been interfering with all the shit I gotta do. I mean I have no-oo motivation, none at all, and it’s becoming a big problem. The other Sins have actually noticed. Like Satan? You know, we talked about him when we met — yeah, he came up to me not too long ago, saying —”

Your heart stopped as Lucifer’s eyes went completely red, blazing in his skull like magma and accompanied by long horns protruding from his head. 

His voice took on an unearthly, gravelly quality as he, presumably, mimicked Satan: 

“‘We’re worried for you, man. Ozzie says you haven’t been returning his calls. Levi and Bee miss you on their outings but you always say you’re busy. Whatever’s going on, you know you can talk to us, right?’”

Lucifer was back to normal in a millisecond. “And I do know that. I do! But as much as I wanna take them up on it, I just feel like none of them will really understand what’s wrong. I don’t even understand it. Or at least I didn’t until it came to me out of nowhere, like lightning.” 

He mimed being zapped in the head.

“Visits and parties with my brothers are fun and all, but they end... And I find myself all alone more often than not.”

Lucifer sighed deeply. 

“I don’t really have anything to live for,” He stressed. “Except for myself and…” 

“That’s not much.” He snickered mirthlessly. 

You swallowed. The anger, frustration, exhaustion and still-present fear were blanketed by an uncomfortable bout of sympathy. 

Sympathy for the Devil. 

‘Oh shut the fuck up you.’

“Don’t you live for the suffering of mankind or something?” You sniffled, trying to regain your metaphorical footing in the conversation and, in turn, regenerate that anger you’d been consumed by not a minute ago. 

Lucifer looked from the ground to you, the gleam in his cherry-red eyes fighting to come back to life.

“Aha! No, no. That’s-that’s a Bible thing, right?” He groaned, pulling down the brim of his hat in exasperation. “Ugh, I still don’t know why Heaven insists on that overblown press kit! It’s so fucking old! And inaccurate!” 

Lucifer commiserated with you. “Too much involvement from human hands, too. Ya know? I mean people use it to justify some of the most insane shit I’ve ever seen!”

He cleared his throat at your blank expression. 

“Anywho-oo. What was the question again? Oh! Oh, do I live for the suffering of man — no! No, I don’t. In fact, where I’m from? Being in the middle of that suffering shtick gets old real fast. I’ve stayed away from it for a good while now and really I’ve never been better.”

The blond topped off his statement with a smile, showing those razor teeth while also trying to come across as easy-going and candid. 

A beat passed, in which you felt your lips form a thin line. 

You couldn’t stop yourself. 

You snorted. 

Lucifer looked at you as if you’d lost your head as your snorts turned into full-blown laughter. Until he, of course, wanted to fit in like he knew exactly what was going on. 

“Hahaha, yeah…” Hell’s king chuckled nervously. “I am pretty funny, aren’t I? Ha ha… ha.”

 Shaking your head ‘no’, you tried to reign in the body spasms. 

“So when you say you ‘picked me’, you mean you want me to… what? Be your therapist?” You asked. “The Devil needs a friend’s shoulder to cry on? What?” 

Lucifer fixed you with the first look of genuine annoyance you’d seen (directed at you) from him. 

“No.” He harrumphed. “I need a baby.” 

*

Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision

I'm so sorry if I missed anyone who asked to be tagged! I'm having a hard time keeping track.

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Prophecy (Azriel x Rhys! Sister) Bonus Chapter

AN: I'm happy you guys wanted a bonus chapter because I totally wanted to write one. I'm happy this series was so loved and I can't wait for you guys to see what Azriel fics I'm cooking up next!

Part 1, Part 2 ,

Azriel's Verson: Part 3 (final)

Lucien's Verson: Part 3 (final)

Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right? 

Warnings: some fluffy smut, a little Azriel dirty talk, and fluffy ending.

Word count: 2,356

I take a shaky breath and take in the sheer desperation on his face, “I love you too Azriel,” I laugh feeling another tear slip down my cheek. 

He doesn’t waste a moment, stepping through my threshold and cupping my cheek to place a searing kiss on my lips. I melt into him, feeling his clothes soaking my own as my nightgown clings to my skin. His hands are on my waist, scarred and cold from the elements but still so intoxicating. My arms wrap around him pulling him further into the entryway. I hear him slam the door shut with his boot drowning out the sound of rain leaving only the music of our ragged breaths as he kisses me deeper. 

He pulls away to press his forehead to mine, his wet hair and skin causing drops of water to cascade down my own face. 

“I love you so much,” he breathes cupping my cheek to press a chaste kiss to my lips. “My mate.”

I feel my back hit the wall behind me rattling the small mirror mounted on it. Azriel’s hands were greedily pulling on every inch of me. His kiss was frantic and needy, like the man had been deprived of any warm touch for months and come to think of it he probably had.  

I feel his hands wandering up the bare expanse of my thighs. Oh how I had dreamed of feeling that scarred skin leaving its brand on me. I had dreamt of nothing else for years. He lifted me onto a small table and I heard a vase crash and shatter on the floor next to us. I immediately rip away from him but it doesn’t stop him from trialing his lips down my neck, like he might cease to exist if his lips and hands aren’t all over me. 

“Azriel my vase!” I exclaim laughing at how he isn’t even phased by the broken ceramic on the ground. “We’re going to destroy my house!”

He smirks against my lips, “Then how about we take this upstairs?” he smiles. 

There’s a frenzy of shadows and then I’m in my own bedroom, the fireplace roaring to life providing us with light. I had never been so thankful for such blessed light as Azriel peeled off his soaking wet shirt and discarded it onto the chair by the fire. It would dry in no time.

I allowed my eyes to wander the expanse of his body. Sure I had seen the male shirtless before, I had bumped into him taking a steam after the legendary snowball fight 300 years ago and nearly fell to my knees. But this time? This time it was different because he was mine, and he was looking at me with just as much hunger as I did him. 

“Say it again,” he commanded, his voice dropping an octave as he took a languid step forward placing his hands on my waist. 

“Say what again?” I tease placing a kiss on his bare chest, something I always dreamed of doing. Cauldron help this male, I was probably never going to get my fill of him. 

His hand slides under my chin tilting it up, “You know what,” he says more sternly. 

I lean in close just brushing my lips against his, “I love you.” 

A low growl emits from him as he pulls me into his kiss once more. He pressed his body into me the evidence of his arousal grazing my stomach.  I take a couple steps back, my legs hit the bed and before I can let myself fall onto it he slips the straps of my too thin nightgown off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. As soon as he feels my hardened nipples brushing against his chest he looks down taking me in. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, I can’t believe you’re all mine,” he murmurs into my lips, those scared hands wandering over my exposed skin leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

“Says you,” I trailing my fingers from his shoulders, over his pecs and down his abs. My hands dip to his breeches where I can see him ready and wasting, but just as my fingers slip under the hem my wrists are yanked up. 

“Not yet,” he smiles deviously, landing a quick kiss on my  lips. “Lie down on the bed, I want to properly worship my mate.” he orders and if his words. 

I hang on every word he says as they drip from his mouth like honey. I let my bare back lay down on the soft sheets of the bed, and his eyes take in every inch of me from where he stands at the edge of the bed.  He kneels on the bed, grabbing one of my ankles and bringing it up to his mouth to press a kiss to it. The gesture is so simple yet so intimate, so arousing. Scared hands and soft lips trail up the expanse of my leg, the feather light touches making me grow wetter and wetter where I needed him most. His mouth stops at my inner thigh leaving a light bite mark on the inside of it.

“Fucking perfect,” he mutters between my legs, kissing me everywhere but where I want him to. 

 My breath hitches as I feel the heat of his breath on my sex. Those hazel eyes flit up to me as he slowly lowers his head to my folds. He licks a long stripe up my center and I find my hands tangling in his silken night black hair, pulling and tugging on it as he feasts on me. 

“Oh gods Azriel!” I cry out.

The sight of Azriel’s head between my legs, licking and sucking like a starved man was erotic enough to have me curling my toes. But the sound of his mouth on me? The warm wet tongue flicking my clit, the moans of pleasure that reverberated through him? That was truly something to behold. 

I feel one of his fingers enter me and I gasp, arching my back off the bed. A scarred hand instantly splays over my stomach, keeping me down. I can feel Azriel’s smirk between my legs as he adds another finger, curling them both to hit that spot that has me letting out a cry. He smiles again, seemingly loving his ability to make his mate scream as he shakes his head back and forth, tongue moving over my clit at a pace that has me trying to arch on the mattress as I feel my claimax wash over me. 

“Azriel!” I scream as my legs shake and tremble beneath him. 

His hazel eyes watch me intently as I come undone for him, eagerly lapping at my clit taking everything I give him. Even when I’m left as a mess of shallow breaths I still want more of him. 

He places one last kiss against my clit, “My mate makes such pretty sounds for me,” he says smugly. 

Soft lips covered in my arousal find their way to my hips then my stomach, then the curve of my breast. My breath hitches again as I realize how painfully hard my nipples are and I wonder if it's the bond making me feel this way. The need for more.. more, more, more, more.

“Beautiful,” he breathes, placing a kiss to each taut nipple earning a groan for me. 

“Azriel please, I need you,” I beg, running my hands through his hair. 

“Shhh I feel it too,” he says, kissing my neck, confirming that the bond is screaming at him too. “Do you know how it felt to come over all the time and find you wearing nothing but those tiny little nightgowns you love so much? How badly I wanted to rip them apart with my teeth and have you right there?” he groans leaving love bites 

I let out a small gasp at his words and then think of all the times I felt the same, “What about me?” I laugh as he trails kisses over my jaw, his hard on pressing into my core. I wasn’t sure when he rid himself of his pants but I wasn’t going to complain. “All those times I saw you come back from training, sweaty and dirty? Or the time I ran into you outside of the steam room and you nearly dropped your towel?” 

He pulls back to look at me, “I was a fool then, and never again. My mate will have me whenever and however she wants,” he groans pressing a deep kiss to my lips. 

“Say it again,” I ask, caressing his face to move the hair from his eyes. 

“I love you y/n,” he breathes, kissing me slow. 

In one slow movement he enters me fully, a guttural cry falling from my mouth as he buries his head in the crook of my neck. 

“Oh gods, you’re so fucking tight,” he groans pulling out slowly and thrusting in again. 

His hips move in leisurely motions, as if he’s wanting to savor every moment of being inside me. My hands rake down his back as his fervent sounds in my ear have me needing more of him. 

“Azriel harder,” I whimper, digging my fingernails into his broad shoulders. 

He smirks and presses a lazy kiss to my ear before slamming into me harder. I let out a strangled sound as I grasp onto him, needing anything to try and ground myself. 

“Gods you’re so fucking perfect,” he groans slamming his hips into mine. “Everything about my mate is perfect,” he says, sucking the peak of my breast into his mouth. 

“Oh gods Azriel its so-” my words get caught in my throat as he hits a particularly sensitive part of me. 

The sounds of skin slapping reverberates throughout the room as I feel myself quickly approaching the cliff I was just standing at the edge of. I’ve been told my whole life that sex is different with your mate, that it’s more than just pleasure, it's the binding of souls. I never believed a word, not caring for semantics and retellings from newly mated pairs who couldn’t  keep their hands off each other at dinner parties. But now I understand all of it.

“I love you so much,” Azriel mutters, his voice even deeper and rougher than before. 

“I love you too Az,” I pant brushing the hair from his face. 

“Fuck you’re squeezing me so tight baby,” he groans as his face contorts with pleasure. “You’re going to cum aren’t you?” he asks the cocky persona coming back. 

“Y-yes,” I choke out as I feel him piston into me harder. 

“Are you on that special tonic?” he asks. 

“Yes, I am,” I breathe out, my voice sounding ragged. 

“Thank the fucking Cauldron!” Azriel praises his snap into me. 

The feeling of him sliding in and out so fluidly, the fullness of him, the euphoria that comes every time he hits that spot, it has me falling apart, tears drifting down my face. 

“Azriel I’m gonna-” 

“Cum for me darling!” he growls and I feel him getting closer as well. 

I cum hard with his name on my lips, feeling the pleasure go through every nerve of my body like a wave. I feel my pussy clenching around him and the second I do I hear him roar, his power trembling the house. 

“Oh gods y/n!” he screams and sputters inside of me the warmth of his seed enough to make me want to go for round two just so he can fill me up again. 

He collapses on me for a moment, laying his head on my chest as we both pant frantically. I subconsciously run my fingers through his hair, soothing both him and myself. He rolls off me and pulls me to lay on his chest, tilting my head up so he can see me. 

“I love you so, so much,” he smiles, placing kisses on my face. “My beautiful, smart, caring, hilarious, perfect mate.” he says accentuating each word with a kiss. 

“I love you too Az,” I smile, brushing a thumb over his cheek. 

There was a time I thought I would never have this. Never have him. Yet here I was, lying in his arms. My body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat from the pleasure he pulls from me. My lips swollen and red from his kisses I never thought I would receive. I’ve dreamt of nothing else for 400 years. 

“What do we do next?” I laugh realizing that all this had started from him coming to my door in the middle of a storm. Outside I could still hear thunder and rain pouring onto the roof. 

“Well the conditions are too treacherous for me to fly home so I’ll have to crash here,” he smirks, rolling over so that  he’s on top of me. “I hope you don’t mind,” he says, kissing my lips. 

“I suppose I’ll take you in for the night,” I tease. “But I meant after that.” 

“When the rain stops we’ll gather the family and have the mating ceremony and then you’ll be mine officially,” he says, kissing my cheek. “And then later on I’ll work on giving you some winged babies,” he smiles. 

My heart flutters, “Oh Az really?” I gasp grasping both of his cheeks. 

“Absolutely,” he nods. “But not until much later, we have all the time in the world and I’ll need to get my fill of you before I can even think about sharing your attention with a couple of baby bats.” he jokes. 

“Speaking of getting my fill,” I smirk, rolling him over so that I’m straddling him. “I have 400 years of yearning to make up for,” I tease, placing a kiss on his chest.

“Is that so?” he laughs, throwing his hands behind his head. 

“It sure is shadowsinger, you think you were in misery these past few months?” I sink myself onto his cock and both of us groan. “Get comfortable mate, you’re in for a night of ravishing.” 

(If you liked this check out my masterlist I have a bunch of good Az on it's way and I'm doing a Ruhn mini series AND i'm currently writing a poly! bat boys x reader that's going to be pure smut because I've been reading the L.O.R.D.S series lol)

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[minhosimthings]

A La Folie ft. Jay || Part 2

Synopsis: Wounds came and went. All in the circle of life am I right? The greatest warrior among all the kings, Park Jay. For him, seeing blood was like seeing the sky. It was a daily routine which he could not escape. Yes sometimes he had grave injuries, which he wouldn't stop to take care of, with him being a workaholic. But sometimes healers do more than heal physical wounds, and for Jay, you did exactly that.

Pairings: King!Jay × healer!fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, suggestive at the end, SMUT IN THE NEXT CHAPTER MY BABIES, mentions of food, mentions of abuse, reader has scars, mention of blood and violence, hurt/comfort, reader has a panic attack, Heeseung suffering a shit ton lmao I'm sorry hee

A/N: I am legit so sorry for the long wait my babies I wanted to make this as perfect as possible! Thank you for the notes on the first part YAY!!! And the next chapter has smut hehe 😏😏

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

The French Quotes Series Masterlist

Memories are said to be core parts of a person's life, no matter good or bad.

The only memories you had were of blood, broken glass, and destroyed homes.

Laughter had always seemed so frightening to you, it reminded you terribly of your mother and father's drunken laughter, as they put the belt to their daughter, just because she was a daughter.

Laughter was no longer how your older brother used to comb your hair, how he used to engulf you in his arms everytime the house was filled with things that a seven year old shouldn't be hearing.

Laughter and love, no longer seemed to exist, as you looked down on the bruises on your skin, and wondered when the last time someone had noticed it under all your setting powder was.

Oh right.

Just over an hour ago by the goddamn king of the place you lived in. The possibility of something going wrong was approximately zero, and yet your powder just had to melt off.

Now you were slumped against your bed, almost about to tear your hair out at how much you were regretting even signing up for an apprentice's position in the palace. At the time, when you were fifteen, it seemed the only possible solution, to get away from your home.

To get away from Jooyeon, atleast.

Knock knock knock.

You let out a loud groan at the sound of tapping on the door. Who on earth was calling for you now?

Checking the clock on the wall, you seethed. Begrudgingly getting up, you dragged yourself to the door, and opened it only to find-

"Your Highness!" You gasped, quickly bending into a curtsey at the light footed man standing before you, "Um..am I of any requirance?"

Heeseung chuckled, and pressed his hand to his chest, returning the respect but bowing to you and sweeping away a stray hair from his forehead.

"Jay just sent me over to you to find out if you were alright, Miss Y/N." He said, with the air of a holy messenger, "You seemed to have rushed out the door on his saying something. Did he offend you perhaps?"

"Oh." You breathed a sigh of relief, not realising your facial expression until you saw Heeseung's amused face looking at you, "Oh no! No absolutely not! No, it's um—its really my fault, sort of. Um—is-is he quite mad?"

Heeseung mused over the question for a bit, quietly laughing to himself at how flustered you were.

"Well I wouldn't say mad." Heeseung finally answered after what seemed like an eternity, "But I would say extremely confused and possibly bleeding out his bandages again."

"Fuck." You cursed under your breath, hoping Heeseung didn't hear what you said, "I'll see it to the matter straight away, Your Highness."

"Oh please, Miss Y/N, call me Heeseung." He winked flirtatiously at you, to which you wanted to slightly gag.

"Is it a custom for all Paradoxica kings to allow their nurses to call them by their names?" You chuckled, remembering how Jay so magnificently told you to call him by his name.

"Maybe just for the handsome ones." Heeseung jested, throwing you another wink, which you tried hard not to frown at.

As Heeseung's footsteps faded away, you turned to the door in front of you. Taking a deep breath, you strode forward and slowly opened the door, having the scent of musk hit your nostrils with a bang again, as your eyes fell upon Jay, sitting calmly against the bedframe with his bandages drenched in red.

"May I come in, Your Majesty?" You forced the sentence out, not daring to meet Jay's eyes. You heard a slight hum of approval, to which you sighed a breath of relief and strode in, immediately going to the tiny table you had set up in the corner of the room and getting your supplies to change Jay's bandages, not noticing how Jay's eyes were following your every movement.

Silence filled the room for many minutes as you went on with your routine of pressing the ointment against his wounds and wrapping them up in clean linen. You hadn't dared to lift your lids up to Jay, all the while you were touching his stomach.

"Who did that to you?"

The air stilled drastically, at Jay's cold question, which he offered in a bittersweet voice, and you knew he could see how you visibly froze, from the hair on top of your head down to your little toe finger.

"Pardon me, Your Majesty?" You said, pretending not to hear the question and quickly wrapping up your tools. But Jay was quicker.

"I said—" he leaned forward, to your figure sitting on the stool and he whispered dangerously in your ear,

"Who gave you that mark on your shoulder?"

Jay's suspicions proved true at your flinch at his tone. Leaning back to look at your face, he saw nothing but pure fear and a few tears. His thoughts immediately started to run wild.

"Forgive me." He sighed, "That was too far."

"It was." The words ran out before you could stop them, and a bit harsher than you had wanted.

"May I be please be excused?" You asked him, trying hard to ignore the pit in your stomach and the urge to throw yourself onto a bed and sob.

That night, you tried everything to fall asleep. Empty packets of chamomile were all strewn over the floor, the heavy scent of lavender candles floated in the air, and yet nothing was knocking you out.

Sleep came very late into the darkness and sleep came disturbed. You had no idea how many times your eyes cracked open and stared at the ceiling above because the nightmare just seemed too damn real to be a figment of your imagination. You wondered how it would have been like if you had stayed with Jay all night in his chambers, you had heard that Mrs.Chun often stayed with him when he was injured.

Secrets and secrets never to be untold, you started to write in your diary again, to kill your time, and hopefully drowse off as soon as your poem was completed.

Little did you know, a certain king was doing the same thing next door.

"So let me get this straight-" Sunghoon ran his fingers through his hair, "You have a very attractive woman your age tending to you, almost touching your abs, talking to you like you want to be talked to, smells like lavender, and an apparently suspicious bruise on her shoulder and you want to find out where that thing came from but she won't tell you?"

"Well when you say it that way." Jay glared at his fellow king, "And anyways I'm pretty sure she's upset with me right now, she practically ran out on me yesterday."

Sunghoon snickered and ran a hand through his hair again. "How are you holding up? With the injury and all?"

"It's much better than Y/N expects me to rest for." Jay scoffed, "Have you seen her out of her chambers when you were coming here?"

"I think she's in the infirmary." Sunghoon scratched his head, "One of the maids told me that she was busy."

If you were in the infirmary, the infirmary was where Jay would go. With a heavy breath, he lunged himself off of the bed and onto his feet, to the concerned brow raise of Sunghoon.

"Alright you should return to your palace now, doesn't the kingdom need you and all?"

"I don't think so." Sunghoon threaded his fingers into his locks, "It's a bright sunny day, Jongsoeng brighten up a bit!"

"If you touch your hair one more time Park Sunghoon, I will brighten up your funeral."

The infirmary was a place of healing. For both physical and mental wounds. For most of your teenage years, Mrs Chun had set about trying heal the latter, by immersing you into the art of healing others. It had been fascinating, you thought, the quiet of the stone walls and the cold air brushing against your skin with kisses you preferred. It made you forget your home.

So it wasn't a surprise that this was the place you came to early in the morning when the king had ordered your presence. You were currently working on a nightmare potion for yourself, trying to mix in some additionalities to make you dream about something else.

Your carefully measured out drops of cranberry juice caught your attention as the vibration from the sound of heavy steps coming from outside made it quiver ever so slightly.

Sighing to yourself when you heard the door knob's knock, you abandoned your chemicals and went towards the door, thankful for your infirmary outfit of trousers because they didn't drag behind you. Why couldn't you have worn this when you were tending to-

"Your Majesty!" You all but screamed, quickly bowing to the man in front of you, "uh....hi." you added awkwardly at the end.

"Hi." Jay replied back, "And I told you not to call me that. Just call me Jay it's fine."

"You're the goddamn king, I can't just call you by your first name." You retorted as Jay walked in and dropped into the chair by the table where your nightmare potion lay, "Do you need anything?"

"Entertainment." Jay replied promptly, curiously poking at some herbs, "Why don't you wear that often?"

"Pardon?" You said before looking down and realising what you were wearing. You quickly grabbed a blanket and covered your lower portion, "That wasn't meant for anyone's eyes."

"You look good." Jay winked, nibbling on the cilantro you had saved for the potion, "Is that a nightmare potion?"

"Mrs Chun told me you were horrible at potions." You laughed, letting do of the blanket and striding over to Jay, plopping down on the chair opposite to him, "Kudos to recognising the potion."

"She's exaggerating, you know how old women are these days."

"How old do you suspect I am?" You asked, curious as to the king's opinions on women's ages. Jay thought for a moment before speaking.

"Depends." He leaned forward and smiled, "How old do you think I am?"

"45." You answered with an air of pride to your voice, to which Jay gasped dramatically and put a hand to his chest.

"You wound me Y/N." He chuckled, "Healers are supposed to heal aren't they?"

"Well depending on how you take your tea with a jar full of honey, you're certainly an old man." You were uncontrollably laughing now, "We're the same age, 22."

There was a moment of silence, in which you silently took the potion away from his radius and into your hands, your eyes widening dangerously at the bubbling liquid.

"Damn it!" You said, wincing at the hot touch. You looked around frantically for something, anything, which could calm the potion down, while Jay looked on, confused at your doings. Nevertheless, he got up and started to look for whatever you wanted.

"What are we looking for?" Jay asked as you ripped open the cupboards, the potion was bubbling aggressively by now.

"Something that can calm the potion down!" You cried, trying to get your mind to think, something to neutralize liquid, "like a lemon, alkali something."

Jay knew nightmare potion was dangerous when it wasn't neutralized, poisoning the skin of those whose grasp it reached. He racked his brain, trying to remember what Mrs Chun had taught him.

"Oh how about that baking soda there!" Jay pointed, wincing slightly as he felt pressure against his wounds but he tried not to show it, "It's alkali is it not?"

You had no time to respond as you grabbed thd baking soda at the speed of lightning and poured it all into the potion. The aggravated liquid seemed to calm down, as the bubbles slowly faded away and the colour changes from green to its normal azure.

"Thank the fucking heavens." You sighed, plopping down on the table much to Jay's amusement, "Thank you, Jay."

"I don't think Mrs Chun would like the state of this room right now." Jay motioned to the floor, where powders and cupboards lay ripped open from your frantic try to find an alkali. He was right of course, Mrs Chun would have killed you. The baking soda was also finished.

"Ah damn." You said, not realising the amount of times you swore in front of the kind today, you had to go out and get new ones now. You started to pick up the bigger jars which were thankfully not broken and arrange them back, not noticing Jay doing the same thing behind you. When you did notice however you were horrified.

"Your Majesty sit down!" You commanded, forcing Jay down onto the chair, "You'll worsen the injury."

"But I want to help." Jay visibly pouted, adorable, you thought, "Please?"

"Absolutely not." You responded, five minutes away from tying him to the chair, "If you're that bored, we can talk, but under no circumstance am I allowing you to bend and work."

Jay considered his options and came to the conclusion that talking was the better option. He wanted to find out more about your mysterious ways of enchanting him so well, about that scar too....

"Shall I start then?" Jay asked, as you nodded and started on the mess again, "Favourite food?"

"That's the best question you could think of?" You scoffed playfully, nevertheless smiling at him, "Apricots. Alright my turn. Hm..allergies?"

"Peaches, which is a pity because I love peaches. Hobbies?"

"Most of the time, reading, but I like experimenting here in the infirmary." You said. You liked this conversation, it was peaceful, bouncing back on each other with questions of all kinds. There was laughter, teasing and perhaps the most happiness you had felt in a lot of time.

"Birds can take over the world, you can fight me on that."

"If I fought you over it, I'd probably lose." Jay laughed, holding his stomach from the amount of bird jokes you both had made in the past fifteen minutes.

"So any siblings?"

Jay's question made you freeze again into that familiar pose Jay had grown to hate now. He wondered whether it was something related to your family that you were making the nightmare potion for.

"I'm sorry, you clearly aren't comfortable with discussing it I won't bring it up agai-"

"No it's alright." You sighed, letting out a breath that felt like it had been caged forever somewhere, "I-Well I don't speak with my family anymore they weren't exactly the loving type, a-and I ran away when I was 14."

14. That was the age when Jay lost everything.

"Well I guess we have a lot in common then." Jay sent you a comforting smile. God he had a gorgeous smile, you wished you could see it on his face at all times of the day.

"That would be a horrible similarly wouldn't it?" You forced a kindred smile. Jay nodded at your statement, and picked up the cilantro again, bringing the smaller leaves to his mouth to chew.

"Well I'll leave you to your work." Jay slumped off of his chair, the pain in his bandages had decreased now, "Good day Y/N."

"Good day Your- I mean Jay."

Jay had no idea how he managed to reach his chambers, his feet managed to trace the path back, all that was on his mind was how much if a mystery you still were.

That night, he opened the glass case in his room for the first time in seven years, taking out the ruby dagger and admiring how much it felt like your touch.

"Hyung are you serious?" Jay's fingers massaged his temple, as Heeseung smirked.

Both of them were sitting outside, in the warm afternoon Sun after you had allowed Jay to go outside on making sure his bandages were healed. It had been a few days since the infirmary incident, and Jay had constantly sneaked up so many times and messed with your potions that you had to threaten to rip apart the infirmary and blame it on him when Mrs Chun returned. Jay had heard worse threats in his life, but never before had he actually listened to them than now.

Plus it was the only thing that could allow him to see you in your shirt and trousers fit which he adores so much, even if you glared at him while he made suggestions for a potion while sitting next to you. Granted, he had been useful sometimes, particularly the time, he carefully bandaged your hand when you got a nasty burn from some dragon scales.

Unbeknownst to him, you though he looked adorable, with his tongue stuck out in pure concentration, as he carefully pressed his fingers across yours. It bought a blush to your face.

"It's the only favour I ask of you Jay" Heeseung tried to put on his best boba eye impression, to manipulate Jay into asking you out on a date. To Heeseung's wedding.

"Why can't you ask?" Jay sighed, talking a sip of his lemonade.

"Because Y/N isn't making my heart beat at the pace of a cheetah, she's making yours." Heeseung smirked, "Wait isn't that her?"

Jay's head whipped around to look behind him, making a crack sound as it went. His eyes landed on someone in the distance, wearing an olive dress and a straw hat, carrying a wickerwork basket, possibly to pick some on the daffodils growing in the garden. Royal healers were always allowed to pick herbs in the garden, so that's what you were probably doing.

God you looked beautiful, Jay thought. It reminded him of earlier, happier days, of days when laughter echoed high through the walls and flowers bloomed. Especially lavender. Lavender, like his mother....

"Jay, you're staring." Heeseung coughed loudly, snapping Jay out of his euphoria.

In the distance, you were willing away your time by plucking out tiny bristles of daffodils, they would do you good in makin the nightmare potions again. It wad a pleasant day today and you hadn't expected Jay to come out, but there he was, sitting alongside Heeseung in a loose white shirt, open slightly at neck. You hoped fervently that there weren't any mind readers present at the scene, lest they read all your extremely unholy thoughts.

The last few days, were fun, happy even. You liked Jay making conversation with you at the infirmary. Sure he annoyed you sometimes, but you didn't think you had laughed this much in ages now. It felt like home, true home, which you hadn't ever known the feeling of.

The sound of loud coughing made you flinch as you turned around to see both the royals snap their heads into the distance from staring at you. Giggling to yourself, you began to walk towards them, basket full of daffodils in hand.

"Fuck she's coming here." Jay whispered, pretending to look busy in fishing the cilantro pieces out from his glass.

"And I thought I was the lovesick one." Heeseung rolled his eyes, quickly putting on his brightest smile, as he saw you approaching.

"Miss Y/N!" Heeseung bowed to you, trying to sound like he wasn't about to possibly ruin Jay's love life, "Are you doing well?"

"Perfect, Your Highness." You curtsied, noticing Jay still hiding his face, "Congratulations on the betrothal, Your Highness, or should I call you Heeseung?"

"You remember?" He shot you a cheeky smile, sitting down on his chair agin, as you sat down on the one a servant brought you, "Well I assume you are coming to the ball? I would be devastated if my darling Queen didn't meet you."

You chuckled and quietly shook your head. "I don't believe I was invited. Plus, i have no family or friend to go with."

"Oh what a coincidence! Jay doesn't either!" Heeseung said, in a fake cheery voice, as Jay groaned silently to himself and fervently wished to disappear from this moment. This was by far the weakest he had ever felt in all his life.

"Oh...um... That's sad?" You were uncertain on what to say. Heeseung took a deep breath, and reminded himself that he had to play Cupid properly.

"Yes it's so sad, don't you think it would so nice if you two went together?"

Perhaps the most frightening thing the birds heard that day was the sound of Jay's cough at Heeseung's sentence.

"Jay! Oh my god-" you panicked, bit Heeseung merely rolled his eyes and harshly patted Jay's back.

"Calm down idiot." Heeseung grumbled, and then turned back to you with a bright smile on his face, "Anyways, as we were saying, how about it Miss Y/N?"

"Well, for starters-" you said, with the air of a true healer, "I have to go out to town and get some supplies, the infirmary is nearly out. And secondly, it is a royal ball. I don't believe I have anything royal to wear."

"Oh pity, I think Jay knows a really good seamstress in town don't you Jay?" Heeseung smirked at a red eared Jay who was doing everything in his power to appear not flustered, "Plus weren't you going to go on your undercover rounds tomorrow Jay? Oh that's perfect! You and Y/N can go get the supplies in town, and get some measurements for her dress and voila! A perfect date to my wedding!"

That night, both you and Jay went to sleep peacefully, without scented candles or chamomile teas.

That night, a healer and a king couldn't wait for tomorrow's gift.

(And Heeseung slept, giggling next to his annoyed but loving wife)

"You look rather dashing." You giggled, clutching a basket tightly in your hand, and leaning against the door, admiring the figure of the man in front of you. Jay was clad in simple clothes today, a workman's attire. And he still looked more handsome that the devil himself.

"Oh shut up." Jay rolled his eyes, "You definetly look prettier."

"Where did you learn to impress a lady like that hmm?" You questioned, as Jay tried everything to adjust his collar and failed, "That's not how you press the fabric down idiot."

"First of all-" Jay glared playfully at you, "I didn't learn it just comes to me naturally" you scoffed at that, "Second of all you just called the king of tis kingdom an idiot. And third of all-" his eyes went round like the ones he used when he wanted something, "Can you adjust this collar please?"

"Idiot." You laughed, putting your basket down and walking over to him, your hands going up towards his unruly collar, "My idiot, unfortunately."

"Since when do healers get to own people?" Jay jested, feeling his entire world freeze at the soft touch of your hands. God you smelled like lavender and love.

Love? That four lettered word? Please, Jay mentally scoffed, it didn't exist.

But as Jay watched you, felt your fingers touching his neck, and your waist pressing against his, as you carefully adjusted the collar, in that very moment, he saw the most beautiful aspects of his life, and he knew he was helplessly in love. He craved your touch, your presence, your eyes stuck to his, anything with you. Was this the love his mother always spoke of?

"And I'm done!" You breathed a sigh of relief, the collar was hard to pull down, and you were relieved when it finally flattened. What you weren't expecting however, was Jay staring at you with widened eyes when you looked up from his neck.

"Um...Jay?" You said, waving your hand in front of him, "Earth to The great King Park Jongsoeng."

Your voice seemed to break Jay out of his temporary trance, as he quickly blinked his eyes and popped his lips together. "We should go." He said, much to your relief.

"Hey wait a second." You stopped him from exiting. Your fingers went up to his hair and quickly ruffled it, making it look messy and unruly

"There." You presented proudly, "now you look like a true town person."

Something in Jay told him that this day would go in a second as all good days went.

Jay had never before gone on his monthly undercover trip to the town, accompanied by anyone else. He feared it would blow his cover to the people. The trip always benefited him, he would get some delicious food, a day without guards, a day with peace, and a free survey of the citizens' wellbeing.

Today was different. He had no interest in looking at the wellbeing of the people, nor on the food. All he cared about was you.

You, with your head held high, easily chatting up the store owners, bargaining for the price of powdered dragon scales and smiling wide at the tiny child who had run up to you and have you a tiny sunflower blossom.

His heart was weak, fragile around you, it contained lovesick blood which he hadn't ever held before. Your hearty laughter, your hair moving in harmony with you and the contagious joy you spread to the people in the bustling market, it made Jay's knees buckle.

"Jongsoeng come on!" You cried, walking perhaps fifteen steps ahead of Jay. He had to jog to keep up. You were calling him by his actual name, since most people outside of royalty didn't know his real name.

"Did you get everything?" Jay panted, peering into your full basket. You nodded.

"Yep! I even got the cilantro you like chewing so much like a cow." You giggled, holding up a few leaves to his mouth, "Say ahh" you teased him as if you were feeding a child.

"Ahhh" Jay opened up his mouth and pushed the cilantro into his mouth, much to your surprise. You flinched slightly at his cold touch.

"Delicious." Jay smacked his lips together dramatically, "Anyways shall we get going?"

"Please don't tell me we're going to some shoe shop, I detest the smell of leather." You groaned, earning a look from Jay.

"That is by far the weirdest thing I've ever heard." Jay chuckled, "And we're going to the best seamstress of this kingdom darling, so keep your socks on."

Your heart fluttered uncontrollably at his nickname.

"Ah my King. Welcome!" A well dressed woman, with her hair tied into a fishtail greeted Jay and you. You assumed she was the Chaeryoung from "Chaeryoung's Seams", signboard outside which indicated her grand castle of a shop. This, according to Jay, was where all the aristocrats obtained their clothes.

"Chaeryoung, I assume you are well?" Jay pressed a kiss to her hand, a custom for most unmarried men, but delivering a pang of jealousy to your heart.

"I do not care about my wellbeing right now, Your Majesty. All I care about-" she shifted her pretty, cat-like eyes to you, "-is this beauty standing before me."

You felt your cheeks heat up at Chaeryoung's complement. You? A beauty? Impossible it seemed, especially next to a pretty woman like Chaeryoung.

"I am Y/N." You curtsied, "You are quite gorgeous yourself, Miss Chaeryoung."

Chaeryoung let out a giggle and blushed red in her ears, turning to Jay. "You found someone quite like yourself, Your Majesty."

"Oh please." You scoffed playfully, "I am much more handsome than him, don't you think?"

To Jay, that was more of a complement than an insult, especially when it came from your mouth.

You stayed in Chaeryoung's shop until the sky darkened. She wouldn't let you go until you tried on every combination she asked you to.

Jay was quite useful in this, you thought, giving Chaeryoung recommendations on necklines and earings and whatnot.

A memory which stayed particularly on your mind, was when you stepped out in a beautiful dress, which hugged your body perfectly, with a neckline that could send any man to heaven if he looked at it.

Any man meant Jay too, who thought he would combust if he saw you on any more dresses. He swore he could have seen pixies sparkling their magic dust over you.

"How does this look?" You stood in front of Jay with a big smile on your face.

"Spin for me." Jay said, standing up, to assess the dress more properly, as you spun, the fabric seemingly obeying your every command and spinning with you like a Scottish Fold's tail. Could you get any prettier?

"I swear to god if you don't get this dress, I will open my bandages." Jay said dramatically, much to Chaeryoung's pleasure who nodded and rushed out of the room, to get your measurements.

"Do I look good?" You asked again, a bit uncertainly this time.

"Good?" Jay scoffed, "You look like the prettiest person on earth."

"You sure know how to make a girl blush, are you sure you haven't had practice?" You giggled, spinning one more time in the dress to admire yourself. You loved the way the fabric felt against your skin, it hugged it in a way that all your scars didn't hurt too much. A perfect dress, you thought.

Perfect. Until you looked down at your collarbone.

Fate has its ways, dear reader. And it has many ways for misfortune.

"Oh no-no no no." You swore under your breath. Well that is, if you were even breathing. You were panicking, and panic attacks weren't exactly cotton candy flavoured for you. You could feel your throat tighten up and your peripheral vision blend out.

You felt cold all around, you felt the harsh words of little girls and the screams of your parents. You felt Jooyeon too....

"Hey hey Y/N, calm down." You could hear Jay's voice faintly behind you, but you couldn't bring yourself to focus on anything.

Jay was worried, extremely worried. He hadn't ever seen you panic like this before. Sure you had a few stressful mishaps in the infirmary, but this? Never before. Jay was confused as to why you were currently supporting your entire weight on him but he took one look down at your collarbone and he knew.

"Y/N, darling, I need you to breathe for me." Jay whispered in your ear, unsure of what to do. His hands trailed down to your waist, while one supported your shoulder.

"Shh, I'm right here, I'm right here calm down." Jay coached you, tracing shapes along your neck, which worked effectively.

"I-" you kept your sob in your throat, "I need something to c-cover..."

You felt a warm sort of cloth wrap around your shouder, Jay's jacket.

"Calm down now." Jay whispered again, hearing faint footsteps in the distance, "I'll distract Chaeryoung, you run."

"Your bandages aren't bleeding much, I think they're healed.." You clicked your tongue, pressing against Jay's wounds.

"You sound worried though, darling." Jay said, his eyes never leaving you even as you got up and settled your supplies down.

"You know I won't ever stop worrying about you." You chuckled, sitting opposite him on the bed, with two cups of chamomile. Drinking tea with Jay at night seemed to relax your nerves.

"So..."

"So?"

"Would you like to talk about what happened?"

You bit your lip at his question, savouring the taste of the chamomile for a while.

"Would you really like to know?" You sighed, putting your tea down, "You've been curious over it for a lot of days."

"I would like to know whether you want Jooyeon killed or tortured." Jay calmly sipped his tea.

Jooyeon.

How did he know?!

"How-" you raised your eyes to him, "Do you know about Jooyeon?"

"I'm a King, darling." Jay chuckled, his eyes seemed more dangerous than ever, "I know everything."

"If you knew everything, then why did you ask me?" You said, your tone laced with venom.

Jay's eyes softened. "I know who he is but I don't know what he did to you, darling." He toyed with his empty cup, "and I wanted to know why you hide that scar."

"Because it's ugly!" You cried out, slamming your teacup onto the table next to you, you were surprised it didn't break, "Because everyone I've ever met in my life recoils from it whenever they see it and for some fucking reason you didn't and it's just so weird!"

The air stilled again in that familiar manner, and flashes of memories came into Jay's mind.

'Mum why do you hide your shoulder?'

'its not as beautiful as the rest of me, Jay. Why do you ask?'

'You're still pretty to me mum!'

Your memories on the other hand, were entirely different.

The sound of glass....

The smell of blood....

Jooyeon's grip on your thigh.....

"Y/N, love-"

"I'm sorry, I-I shouldn't have-"

Jay's hand buried you into his chest, as your sob ripped through the air like a siren. He could feel his shirt become damp but he didn't give a single damn. All he cared about was how you were practically shaking apart in his arms.

Your shattered words of 'Im sorry!' broke his heart into tatters and he felt like he was 13 again, listening to his mother son and him not being able to do anything.

Except this time, he could.

In the quiet moments of vulnerability, you shared your fear with him, trusting him with your deepest secrets. And as Jay held you in his arms, he realized that he had become your safe haven, and his love for you blossomed in that tender embrace.

"Y/N, love, look at me?" Jay tilted your head up to him, grabbing your chin with his finger. Your tear stained eyes looked up at him with nothing but calm trust. You did trust him. And love him too.

As your eyes met, a sense of familiarity washed over you. It was as if your souls had known each other in a different time and place. In that profound connection, you realized that the fates had pulled their strings again love unfurled within you.

"I-I want to-"

"Do it."

That's all Jay needed, for him to crash into you and create a magnificent firework display, maybe only he could see all the sparkles and colours. Jay could taste sweet moonlight and honey on your lips. Blood rushed to his heart, which pumped it ever so fastly, it was about to explode out of his chest.

He craved this, he craved it as a battlefield craved blood or as a nightmare potion craved alkali. Ribbons of love and hope rushed out of his neck, where your arms wrapped, sinking into him, with pure trust and love.

Was this the love the poets spoke of?

Maybe not, Jay thought, but he didn't care anymore. This was the love he now wanted, he never wanted to let go of it.

Perhaps he never would.

Silence fell like darkness, as you pulled away slowly, still keeping your eyes close for a second. You couldn't believe what on earth had just happened. Jay couldn't either.

“That felt like a crime against humanity.” you broke the silence, with your serious statement.

The seriousness didn't last long, when Jay looked into your eyes, you looked into his, and the both of you burst out laughing.

"Was that your first kiss?" Jay teased, his fingers were threading through your hair, relaxing you.

"Yours too?" You retorted.

Amidst the moonlight, no one would have suspected that a healer and a king would be laughing raucously, looking at each other with nothing but love, something they never experienced before.

“I mean, I could do with some more of that.” you said shyly, feeling a blush creep up to your face.

"Why don't we then, darling?"

Next chapter coming soon!

Tags: @amazzwon @heeseungshim @kvmariii @mwahvvis @hottiewifeyyyy @sacrificeatmeup @perfectnighttt @yawnzzhoon @yunabi436 + send an ask to be tagged!

[fatkish]

Monster Gyomei x Depressed Reader

Part 1 of 2

(I got the idea for this from raysrays Fatal Attraction series. They got the idea from @PammyJammy117)

It was a beautiful spring day. The birds were chirping, butterflies and bees were fluttering about, small animals were starting to come out of their burrows. The flowers were blooming in all kinds of pretty colors, too bad, it’d be the last time you’d see such a pretty season.

You see, you had been deeply depressed lately due to business being slow among other things and had come out into the forest to end things. You left your village that morning and walked out deep into the mountain’s forest. Deep and far from the village. You carried a rope with you, you were going to tie it to a branch and hang yourself.

You knew that people had said that there were stories of a beast that lived in these woods. You knew people feared coming into these woods. They feared meeting or possibly encoring the wrath of such a being. You had heard old tales of the being that lived in these woods all your life.

You had heard stories of the being’s great strength but also tales of his supposed good nature. Long ago, your village prayed to and left offerings at a shrine they built deep in the mountain. They prayed to the supernatural being, the supposed ‘god’ of the mountain. There were stories of his great kindness and how he protected the village. He was supposedly fond of children as there were stories of him taking in orphans and caring for them.

You decided that if this being truly existed, and deemed your life of any worth, then they would stop you, and you would choose to live on if they saved you.

You had found a tall tree and decided to climb up the branches, unaware of the being that had already sensed your approach and was silently listening to you. You climbed up the tree and sat on a thick branch, to which you tied the rope tightly around the branch and then fastened a slip knot.

You picked up the rope and put it around your neck, you took a deep breath, and jumped from the branch. You struggled for a bit as your airways were constricted. As you slowly lost your vision, you must have imagined seeing the large man like being that seemingly appeared in front of you. You closed your eyes as you lost consciousness.

When you awoke, you were nestled in warmth. You heard slight sobs. You figured it was your imagination and that you were in heaven. You snuggled closer to whatever this warmth was. You felt a large hand caress your head and a soft yet deep voice tell you you were going to be okay.

You opened your eyes to see a large man like entity. He had white pupil-less eyes, a large scar going across his forehead, large deer like horns coming from his head, short dark hair and pointy ears. He must’ve been well over 8 feet tall, possibly 9 feet tall.

He was carrying you bridal style in a single large arm. He wore what seemed to be a toga like clothing made of a natural fiber woven cloth. He had a long tail that resembled a bull’s.

After looking up at him he looked down at you. He had tears in his eyes. You couldn’t help but feel compelled to wipe away the tears he shed for some reason. He brought you to a shrine like structure. He brought you over to a nest of animal skins and set you down in them.

“You’re the one who saved me?” You asked.

The large being smiled gently at you and pet your head. “Why yes little one, I did”

“Why” you couldn’t help but ask the man, beast, whatever he was.

“Because I believe all life is precious, and it would sadden me greatly to have left you there” he replied as he held his hands together as if he was praying. You noticed he had some ceramic beads that he constantly rubbed between his palms.

“You think my life is precious?” You asked as you curled up and wrapped your arms around yourself. He smiled gently at you and proceeded to rub your head. “Yes, yes I do.”

“Thank you. Thank you for saving me Mr?”

“Gyomei, and you are most welcome little one”

“My name is Y/n L/n, it’s nice to meet you Gyomei”

“May I ask why you felt it necessary to end your life little Y/n?” Gyomei asked as he sat down in front of you.

You crawled over and sat next to him and began to tell him about how you’ve been feeling, how your craftsman business had been practically nonexistent and how you’ve started to become hopeless that things would ever change. During the entire time you talked, Gyomei listen intently.

You talked about things that you had never told anyone, in fear you would be seen as ungrateful or a wimp. You feared the other villagers would judge you for how you’ve been feeling, but Gyomei merely sat there and wept for you.

You felt so much better after telling Gyomei how you felt. You thanked him profusely to which he just smiled and pet your head.

You realized how late it must be and told Gyomei that you should probably return to the village. Seeing as it was late and you’d surely arrive at the village by nightfall, Gyomei smiled and got up, walking with you to the edge of the forest. He helped you down the mountain, down an old path that led straight to your village.

Before you left to enter the village, you turned and ran back to Gyomei.

“Can I please come and see you again. I don’t really want to say goodbye yet” you confessed.

Gyomei smiled down at you and rubbed your head with his large hand, ruffling your hair a bit. “Nothing would make me happier Y/n”

You smiled and returned to the village, you looked back towards the forest and saw that Gyomei had seemingly disappeared. That night you got home and slept in your bed, remembering the warmth that you felt when you were in Gyomei’s arms. That night you had the most restful and peaceful nights sleep you’ve had in awhile.

The next day you prepared some tea leaves in a small ceramic container and packed it into a bag along with a teapot and cups. You also made some onigiri and packed that as well before you set out and climbed the mountain trail leading to the shrine.

When you got there you saw Gyomei and greeted him. You took off your bag and brought out the tea container and other things.

Gyomei walked over to you and asked. “What’s all this?”

“My offerings to you.. or well… I just wanted to repay you for your kindness towards me.” You sheepishly replied as you twiddled your hands. You heard a sob and looked up to see Gyomei crying.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you” you panicked and got up to wipe away Gyomei’s tears.

“Nonsense little one, you did not upset me, quite the contrary in fact. I’m actually happy but you need not repay me” the gentle giant replied as you tried to wipe away his tears.

“So, you’re not sad?” You questioned.

“No I’m not sad” Gyomei replied.

“Oh okay, we’ll would you like to have tea and Onigiri with me?”

“I’d be delighted to”

Gyomei sat down next to you as you got a small fire going in the wood stove inside the shrine. You got the water hot and got the Onigiri out before serving it with the tea. You and Gyomei sat in comfortable silence together as you both enjoyed your meal.

As time went on, you continued to bring him food and would constantly hang out with him. You’d started a garden near his shrine since you saw how fertile the dirt was. You would visit and tend to the garden whilst Gyomei did his things.

Eventually early spring turned to late spring and late spring to early summer. You would visit when you could and helped fix up the shrine. You’d bring new clothes for Gyomei that you had made for him, to which he cried in appreciation.

Your craftsman business seemed to have picked up. Being one of the few craftsmen in the small village, people would bring things to you for you to fix such as ceramics or metal objects and you would fix them. Some of the older people would ask for you to fix up some things around their houses such as doors, roofs etc.

You had made some ceramic pots that you brought and gave to Gyomei for him to store food in for the winter. You continued to care for the garden you started near his shrine and Gyomei would help you occasionally.

Life had been good with Gyomei and you started to develop feelings for the man/creature/whatever he was.

As the garden grew, you helped Gyomei prep and made sure that he would have plenty of food during the winter to which he constantly told you was unnecessary. You would just smile at him as he cried at your kindness.

You eventually brought him a handkerchief for him to wipe his eyes with since he cries so often. As the days got hotter, Gyomei showed you a small waterfall where he meditates and you would occasionally join him underneath the waterfall. He would teach you things like how to forage and hunt to which you greatly appreciated.

What you didn’t know, was that your life would change immensely that coming fall.

[st-eve-barnes]

Servant (Part 2)

(Aemond x fem Reader)

Part 1

Summary: Aemond's absence weighs heavily on you until one night he finally works up the courage to ask you to stay and share a bath with him.

Word count: +3900

Warning: 18+ for explicit content and language. Fingering, sex in the bath tub. Reader and Aemond just taking care of each other and relieving some stress. This turned out a lot softer than I originally planned, so if comfort smut is a thing this is it, with some fluff and mild angst thrown in. There will be one more part after this one! Thank you everyone for the likes/comments/reblogs for part 1. I hope you'll enjoy this one as well ;)

***

All my fics are also on AO3

***

Ever since that night with Aemond it felt like your world was slightly off balance. Even during work you couldn’t seem to keep your focus, you had bumped into more furniture during the past two weeks than you had in the past 12 months. You kept forgetting where you put things and this morning you found yourself cleaning the mirrors in Aemond’s bedroom only to realize you had already cleaned them an hour earlier. 

You were constantly distracted and on edge. And Aemond wasn’t helping. 

To be fair, he wasn’t doing much of anything. Since that night you had only seen him twice and every time he was on his way out when you arrived muttering some excuse about meetings after which he’d be gone all day.

You were beginning to believe whatever happened between you two that night had been nothing but a dream, that it didn’t actually happen except inside your head.

It was that or the prince regretted that night so much he just wanted to pretend it never happened. You weren’t sure which of those options hurt the most. You just needed to put it behind you and get on with your life. You had always loved your job and life outside of work was pretty good too, with or without Aemond. 

But that was before. 

Now being just his maid didn’t feel like enough anymore. You craved him so badly it was starting to impact every aspect of your life, you knew it had to stop but you had no idea how to get him out of your head.

You were pulled from your thoughts when the door opened and Aemond stepped inside. It felt like so long since you’d last seen him that for a moment just the sight of him took your breath away. You needed a few seconds to find your voice.

“Good evening, your grace,” you greeted him politely and continued with your tasks.

“Good evening, Y/N.” His voice was weak and he sighed deeply while taking off his coat. 

“Long day?” you asked.

“Long week,” he answered and he gave you a weak smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He looked absolutely wrecked.

You had assumed he’d been avoiding you but looking at him now you realized you may have been mistaken. You recognized that exhausted look on his face that came with too many official duties and endless boring meetings. Maybe he had actually just been busy and not hiding from you.

The thought filled your heart with joy for a moment but you quickly pushed it down again and focussed on the task at hand.

“My prince, Aegon came around earlier to ask me to prepare a bath for you.”

“Oh, he did?” Aemond’s lips curled up in a tired smile and he seemed surprised by your words.

“Was that not at your request?” you asked.

“No, it was not, my brother is…I did not send him. But thank you, it is most welcome.”

Aemond was going to regret the day he told Aegon about his little crush on you, first the wine and now this, he was obviously meddling where meddling was not wanted. Aemond’s love life had always been pretty much non-existent and his brother Aegon loved to tease him about it ever since they were young. If it were up to him he’d have Aemond bedding whores every day of the week. But Aemond never cared much for sex, or female company for that matter.

When he was younger he may have thought about maybe having a wife some day, but then who would have him now? He was the scarred dark prince and he was very well aware of how most women feared him or looked at him in disgust.

But not you.

Ever since he first met you, you had treated him with so much kindness and warmth. He couldn’t help but start to feel affection for you, no matter how misplaced it was. He told himself over and over again that you were just doing your job and that he shouldn’t get his hopes up for anything more.

But that night by the fire, when you were on your knees for him, you had looked at him with so much admiration and lust it changed something deep inside of him. Suddenly he wanted things he had never wanted or needed before. 

And he had no idea what to do about it.

“Your bath will be ready in ten minutes, your grace.”

Your words pulled him from his thoughts and he nodded. “Thank you, lady Y/N.”

Your eyes met his briefly and he smiled the softest, most grateful smile that made your heart skip a beat.

You were both quiet for a moment, not looking away from each other until Aemond moved and sat down on the edge of his bed.

You left the room to prepare everything and take the last buckets of water from the fireplace to the bath tub. When you were done filling it up you put down robes and essential oils and made sure Aemond had everything he needed.

“Will there be anything else, your grace?” you then asked.

He gave you another tired smile but shook his head,”No, I…um…that will be all, thank you.”

Gods, how many times was he going to thank you tonight? Aemond wanted to kick himself, for someone who had read so many books and knew all the big words he felt completely  illiterate when it came to expressing his feelings towards you. 

Stay. For Gods sake just ask her to stay.

But he said nothing, just gave you a polite nod as you stepped back towards the door.

You watched him move from the bed, a painful expression on his face as he stretched and started unbuttoning his vest.

You had reached the door, all you had to do was open it and walk away. But just like last time your feet refused to go. 

All you wanted was to stay. Why didn’t he ask you to stay with him? You had seen it in his eye, that soft longing gaze, you couldn’t have imagined that.

You hesitated and then without thinking blurted out your next words,“Do you need my help?”

Aemond looked up in surprise and for a moment you regretted everything, but then his lips curled up into a sweet smile and this time you could actually see it reaching his eye.

“Your help?” he asked,”To undress me?”

The teasing tone was back in his voice and you bit your lip”I…I don’t mean to overstep, your grace.”

“Aemond,” he reminded you.

“Aemond,” you repeated and you avoided his eye, waiting for his response.

His voice was soft when he spoke again,”Come here.”

You stepped forward until you were standing right in front of him, still too nervous to look him in the eye.

Aemond lifted your chin with his finger, forcing you to look at him. When you met with his intense lustful gaze you were right back to that night, willing to drop down on your knees and do anything for him.

But you sensed that was not what he needed right now.

He held your eyes and whispered,”Yes…I would very much like your help…if you wouldn’t mind, my lady.”

You stepped closer to him and carefully started unbuttoning his vest, holding eye contact the entire time, you gently pushed it down his shoulders. Then you did the same with his undershirt, taking your time. You grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it out of his pants. You didn’t hesitate to touch him as you went along, fingers brushing against the skin of his abdomen and chest.

Aemond sighed into it, a little blush forming on his cheeks. 

Neither of you said a word when you started fumbling with the opening of his trousers, you slowly loosened them up until you could pull them down his legs, leaving him in nothing but his underpants. You hesitated when your eyes caught sight of the prominent bulge right under your hands and you froze.

“Did I say you could stop?” Aemond’s voice pulled you back into the moment.

He was still teasing but there was a tiredness in his voice that made your heart ache even more for him.

Your gently placed your hands back on his stomach, caressing his warm skin and Aemond let out a shaky breath. You moved your hands lower, down to his happy trail, you avoided his half hard cock as you slowly pulled his undergarments down, leaving him completely naked in front of you. 

When you stood back up his gaze was dark but soft and he leaned in close until you could feel his breath against your cheek. “Stay,” he pleaded softly.

You bit your lip,”I…”

“Please. Bathe with me,” Aemond pressed his forehead against yours and gently cupped your face, brushing your cheek with his thumb,”Let me take off your clothes and bathe with me.”

Your brain seemed to stop functioning in that moment, all you managed was a small nod, but it told him everything he needed to know.

He didn’t waste any time, his hand moved from your cheek down to your neck, untying your apron and pulling it off of you. He spun you around to unlace the back of your dress. The delicate soft way his hands were touching you made your legs weak and you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning into it. He took his time, just as you did before, as if he was unwrapping a precious gift.

When you were down to your underdress he sank down on his knees in front of you, never leaving your eyes. His hands trailed up from your ankles to your knees and then your thighs, taking the dress with him on his way up and lifting it over your head. 

You were naked but still his eye was only on your face, holding your eyes while a soft smile spread on his lips.

He was so beautiful and you realized right then and there how utterly and completely crazy you were about him. There was no way you would ever manage to get him out of your head, and frankly you didn’t event want to try anymore.

Aemond stepped into the bath and then reached out his hand to you, helping you to get in.

You wanted to take a seat opposite him but Aemond’s hand didn’t let go of yours.

“No,” he shook his head,”Here. Close to me.”

He sat down and helped you to sit in between his legs, your back against his chest. He used his big hands to get water all over your back and your arms, caressing your skin softly as he went along. His touch was like fire and your entire body was burning for him, you prayed he would never take his hands off you.

As if he had read your mind he started slowly massaging your back. You closed your eyes and let out a long satisfied sigh.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” you breathed,”Gods, yes, Aemond.”

He smiled, relieved at your words and encouraged to continue, he moved them up to your neck and your shoulders, feeling the tension you’d been bottling up.

“You feel tense, my lady,” he noticed.

You sighed,”Yes, I…I guess I have been.”

Aemond picked up on the sadness in your voice and he leaned forward, putting a soft, lingering kiss on the back of your head.

“Let me remove everything that hurts, ñuha riña,” he whispered. My lady.

You melted. 

He continued massaging your neck, putting a little more pressure there than before until he felt your tension seeping away and you relaxed completely under his touch.

“Will you let me wash your hair?” he then asked in a whisper.

“I’ll let you do anything you want,” you breathed out without thinking and instantly bit your lip.

Aemond smirked at your statement. “Hmm, good to know.” 

He reached out to the small table next to the tub to grab one of the oils and poured some of it into his hands before putting it on your hair. His fingers softly massaging your scalp and you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this relaxed. Or this turned on.

Aemond took his time washing and rinsing your hair and when he was done he wrapped both arms around your waist and pulled you close, his head resting on your shoulder. You wanted to die in this moment.

 Your hands moved over his and you laced your fingers together.

“Tell me what else you need,” he breathed and placed a few soft kisses in your neck.

You were struggling to form a coherent thought, mumbling pieces of words that didn’t make any sense. Aemond smiled affectionately.

“Show me,” he then breathed into your ear.

Your hands were still covering his and you guided him to your breasts. He didn’t need anymore guidance once there, massaging them softly and letting his thumbs play with your nipples while he continued to kiss your neck. No more chaste kisses this time, he licked your skin and sucked just hard enough to bruise. Your whole body was starting to tremble with need.

You moved his other hand down over your stomach and in between your legs. “Touch me,” you begged,”Please, touch me.”

He didn’t let you beg for long, his fingers brushing over your clit, making perfect slow circles while his other hand kept massaging your breast.

You had ached for this for so long now that it was happening it was almost overwhelming. You were embarrassingly close to falling apart already.

Aemond smirked against your skin, relishing in the way your body reacted and surrendered to him.

He moved his fingers over your folds, teasing your entrance while keeping his thumb pressed on your clit.

“Tell me what else you need, ñuha riña” he teased you, gently biting your earlobe,”Use your words.”

You moaned softly, biting your lip and trying to stop yourself from grinding into his hand,”I want your fingers…inside of me.”

Aemond moved his hand from your breast up to your neck, making you gasp when he grabbed your throat and simultaneously pumped two fingers deep inside your wet heat.

“Like this? Does that feel good, my sweet girl?” he growled into your ear while pumping his fingers in and out of you, thumb rubbing your clit and his hand putting pressure on your throat, trying to keep you still and close to him.

All you could do was whimper and push back on his fingers, your orgasm quickly building.

“Yes,” you breathed heavily,”Yes…”

“You look so beautiful like this,” Aemond whispered into your ear,”So tight and so wet…Seven hells….I can’t wait to fuck you properly.”

That did it, your eyes rolled back in ecstasy and you clenched and clenched around his fingers until you were completely spent, your body collapsing against him. Aemond released his grip on your neck and pulled you into his embrace again.

For a few minutes you just laid with him, your heartbeat steadying and your breathing slowing down as Aemond softly caressed your hair, letting you come down from your high.

“Was that to your satisfaction, my lady?” he then asked, a little smirk on his face.

“Yes,” you breathed into a smile and moved out of his arms to turn around in the bath tub, finally facing him.

His face was completely flustered, his eye hooded with lust and as he was licking his lips you realized you hadn't felt his mouth on yours yet. Suddenly his lips was all you could think about.

But you had other plans for him first.

Your hand gently cupped his face, letting your fingers brush over his eye patch, slowly, while looking into his other eye.

“May I?” you asked softly.

You noticed the nervous twitch of his lips but he nodded. You carefully removed the patch from his face, revealing the sapphire eye underneath. You had seen the prince without his eye patch before, but never up close, and he was always quick to cover it up when he noticed you were in the room.

You couldn’t look away and Aemond sighed deeply, breaking eye contact.

You let your thumb caress his scars and you leaned forward, gently pressing your forehead against his.”You’re beautiful, my prince, every inch of you is beautiful.”

He softly whimpered at your words and leaned into you. You placed sweet lingering kisses all over his scars while Aemond’s hands caressed your back, nails scratching at your skin as he slowly pulled you closer and closer to him. His breath was warm and heavy on your cheek, his lips inching closer and closer to yours.

It took every last bit of your willpower to stop him and lean back.

You reached for the oils next to the bath tub and poured some of it in your hands while you carefully straddled him. His cock was hard and pressing against your inner thigh but you would have to ignore that for now.

“It’s only fair,” you smiled at him and he returned it with a soft, sweet smile of his own, making your heart swell up with affection for him.

“Lean forward,” you ordered him. 

He obeyed immediately, letting you put the oils all over his hair. You spread it over his long blonde locks and then gently massaged his scalp. Aemond sighed into your touch, his hands softly resting on your hips as you continued washing his hair. You were working deliberately slowly, feeling Aemond’s cock twitch against your thigh from time to time, his breathing  speeding up, growing more needy with every touch of your hands.

You rinsed his long hair thoroughly and when you were done you pushed it back over his head, eyes meeting his again and he cupped your chin, brushing his thumb over your lip before he spoke softly,”Come closer to me. I need to feel you, all of you.”

You did as he asked, placing your hands on his chest while you straddled him.

Aemond nuzzled your cheek and whispered hot in your ear.”Come sit on my cock and ride me.”

The hunger in his tone was undeniable and it awakened the fire in you instantly. Your hand moved in between his legs, slowly wrapping around his length and pumping him a few times before guiding him to your heat. Aemond’s head fell back in a blissful grunt at your touch. You teased him some more, dragging the head of his cock over your folds, from your clit down to your entrance and back up again.

You were moaning softly at the sensation and Aemond joined you, his hands gripping harder at your waist, fingers digging into your skin.

“Take me,” he moaned into your mouth,”Please…take all of me, ñuha riña.”

You couldn’t hold back any longer and you slowly sank down on his throbbing length, knocking the air out of both of you for a moment.

“Fuck,” you breathed,”You’re so big.”

Aemond laughed against your neck,”There is no need for flattery right now, my lady.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as well and you carefully tried to take him in all the way. Aemond watched you struggle and grabbed your chin again, looking deep into your eyes.

“Slowly, my sweet girl,” he whispered,”We don’t have to rush.”

The lustful heated gaze on his face told you differently but he kept his hips still, leaving you in control. His hands caressed your back and tangled into your hair, holding you close to him while he started kissing your neck again, open mouthed wet kisses that had you melting in his arms while your body got used to the feel of having him so deep inside of you.

You had never felt so full in your life and the initial painful sting quickly changed into bliss. You slowly started to rock against him, feeling the delicious stretch his cock offered you.

“Aemond,” you whimpered.

“Hmmm?”

“Move.”

He obeyed immediately, lifting his hips to slowly fuck into you. 

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him as close as you possible could. Aemond’s face was buried into your neck, his breath and moans hot on your skin while his hands sank down to grab your ass.

You wanted to cry with how good it felt to have him like this, your bodies completely intertwined, clinging to each other as if you were made for him and he was made for you, a perfect fit. Aemond quickly found a satisfying rhythm that left you both lost in the other.

“Aemond, I’m close,” you breathed into his ear after a while,”I’m so close.”

His hands moved up to hold your neck, bringing your face close to his,”Look at me, Y/N.”

The use of your name in this moment somehow felt so intimate and when you met his soft gaze your heart soared. 

Gods, you loved him. It was stupid and way too fast and you knew it couldn’t lead to anything good but you loved him all the same.

Aemond couldn’t take his eye off you, his hands kept caressing your hair and your face as he slowly fucked you closer to your climax.

He wanted to cum so badly but he also never wanted this moment to end. He had never enjoyed sex all that much before but this was not sex, it felt like coming home every time he buried himself deep inside your heat.

He was safe here, and wanted, and loved. 

It was stupid, he knew that. He barely knew you and you two came from totally different worlds, yet right now he could not imagine his world without you.

“Aemond,” you softly moaned against his lips, letting your hands run through his long hair and leaning your face against his. The look in your eyes so hungry it only made him need you more.

“Kiss me,” he breathed,”Please kiss me.”

Your lips found his in a soft but heated kiss, you sighed happily at finally feeling his soft lips on yours. His tongue licked into your mouth, finding yours, kissing you so deep and so slow, as if he wanted to savor every inch of you. When he moaned into your mouth you soared to new heights.

Your orgasm was building, your walls started to clench around him, there was no slowing it down.

Aemond started fucking you faster, harder, still continuing to kiss you through your moans, neither of you wanting to come up for air but both unable to stall it for much longer. You were falling, seeing stars and you had to stop yourself from screaming out his name for the whole castle to hear when you finally came.

Aemond’s moans grew louder and louder and he bit down on your shoulder when he finally released inside of you.

When it was over he held you in his arms and you clung to him. You never wanted to let him go again and suddenly tears filled your eyes, caused by both the impact of your release and the realization of your feelings for him. Aemond kissed your forehead, whispering soft words of comfort in your ear.

“It’s okay, ñuha riña, I’m here with you,” he sighed deeply,”my sweet beautiful girl, I’m right here.”

There was so much more he wanted to tell you but he couldn’t. Not now, not yet.

He didn’t want to overwhelm you or chase you away so he just held you close to him, biting his tongue and putting another soft lingering kiss to your forehead, hoping to stall the end of this night for as long as he possible could before you would inevitably leave him again.

[lcdrarry]

LCDrarry 2024 Master List Part 1: Podfic & Art & Fic

Dear lovely Participants, Creators, Alpha and Beta Readers, Cheerleaders, Readers and Fans of this fest,

The 6th installment of LCDrarry has come to an end, and we'd like to thank you all for taking part in this fest, for creating so many amazing new Drarry works for us all to enjoy, for commenting on your favourite creations, for sharing and recommending the LCDrarry gems with and to your friends and blog followers, and for making this fest another amazing experience for everybody!

Fests would not exist without their participants or readers! You're all amazing! And we're so happy that you chose this fest in the vast and wonderful offerings of HP and Drarry events.

You can find out under the cut who created what ;D

~Your LCDrarry Mods Tami (@celilasart) and Suzi (@erin-riwen)

PS: Please have a look at the author notes and tags on AO3 for additional information and more detailed warnings. Thank you! PPS: You can find a link to Part 2 of this Master List under the cut. Enjoy!

Part 2 of this Master List with more lovely fics can be found here.

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Podfic

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A Mist That Appears (For a Little Time)

Prompt: “Sweet November,” 2001, Pat O’Connor Written by: dodgerkedavra Narrated by: reveriepi Podfic Length: 02:25:58 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Vomiting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

Summary: “Give me November, and I’ll teach you to be happy. There’s only one condition. You must swear on your magic that you won’t fall in love with me.” Harry’s so tired. His whole body hurts. If Malfoy can teach him how to be happy, then... “Okay.” Harry is working himself to death. Draco only has November to help him. Falling in love is strictly against the rules.

***

As You Wish

Prompt: "The Princess Bride", 1987, Rob Reiner Written by: Pineau_noir Narrated by: Cailynwrites Podfic Length: 02:31:28 Rating: Teen and up Warnings: None

Summary: Draco was raised on a farm in the small country of Witshire; his favourite pastimes were flying on his broom and tormenting the hired farm boy. Though his name was Harry, Draco never called him that. On Harry's forehead there was a scar shaped like a lightning bolt, so Draco called him Scarhead.

Nothing gave Draco as much pleasure as ordering Harry around.

Or a story about fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, True Love, and miracles.

***

The Pirc Defence

Prompt: "The Queen’s Gambit", 2019, Scott Frank Written by: sleepstxtic Narrated by: sweaters_in_the_summer Podfic Length: 01:05:00 Rating: Explicit Warnings: None

Summary: They were rivals, and they were lovers, and they were the greatest chess players of their generation. Exactly in that order.

***

My Big Fat Weasley Wedding

Prompt: “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”, 2002, Joel Zwick Written by: slyth_princess Narrated by: Melcarrianna Podfic Length: 07:17:21 Rating: Mature Warnings: None

Summary: A decade after the war, Harry Potter is lost. There was a time when he knew exactly who he was, where he was going, and what he wanted. He is not that man anymore. Until one day he decides he is done. No more wearing clothes that don't fit, stuck in a job that was meant to be temporary, and simply coasting through his life. He has a plan. And, unsurpisingly, every single Weasley and honourary Weasley seems to have an opinion about it. But it's fine. Harry knows he is doing the right thing.

What he didn't plan for, however, was to find love in the most unexpected place. And with the most unexpected person. Still, it's going to be fine. Like he said, he has a plan. Weasley opinions be damned. He's got it all under control. Doesn't he?

Featuring a million Weasleys, a daft labrador, and a whole bunch of people just trying to figure out their lives.

***

Art

***

Draco's Moving Castle

Prompt: "Howl's Moving Castle", 2004, Hayao Miyazaki Artist: Averily Art Medium: Digital Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None

Summary: Art for LCDrarry2024 fest. Prompt was Howl's Moving Castle.

***

Go the Whole Wide World

Prompt: "Stranger than Fiction", 2006, Marc Forster Artists: julchen_in_red and m4g0rtz Medium: Digital Art Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None

Summary: When government employee Draco Crick was assigned to audit baker Harry Pascal, neither anticipated falling in love, but sometimes the person right next to you is the most welcome surprise.

***

[Art] A Game of Horcruxes

Prompt: "Game of Thrones", 2011, David Benioff Artist: fantalf Art Medium: Digital Art Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: Duelling, Horcruxes, Blood and Injury

Summary: Art Post for "A Game of Horcruxes" written by sleepstxtic.

***

Illustrated Fic

***

[Fic & Art] A Game of Horcruxes

Prompt: "Game of Thrones", 2011, David Benioff Author: sleepstxtic Word Count: 118,635 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Brief Descriptions of Injury, Racism, Classism

Summary: It has been centuries since an attack on the castle of a royal scion. Centuries, until now.

The Realm of Hogwarts is ruled by eight noble Slytherin families, aided by their Gryffindor armies. Each kingdom possesses a Horcrux—the most precious source of magic to the throne. But when the Kingdom of Malfoy finds their Horcrux stolen, Prince Draco must break all protocol and enlist the help of a commoner, Harry, to find what's missing. All the while, an evil beyond the horizon stirs, Dementor attacks are increasing, and civil unrest is burning across the land. Can Draco and Harry recover the Horcrux and save the realm? And will they be able to resist their growing attraction to each other in the meantime?

***

A Ferret, a ScarHead, a Weasel, and a Baby

Prompt: "Three Men and a Baby", 1987, Leonard Nimoy & "Taken", 2008, Pierre Morel Author: trishjames Word Count: 91,420 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Angst, Anxiety, Epic Fight Scene(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Hand-to-Hand Combat, Blood, Muggle Weapons, References to Past Child Abuse, Abduction, Injuries

Summary: They say becoming a parent is an unparalleled, priceless joy. Draco Malfoy finds himself putting that theory to the test when the star witness in his dangerous illegal potions case entrusts him with a powerful wish: protect her newborn baby at all costs. Now, it's up to Draco to fulfill that wish despite the looming threat of criminals hunting for the child. To think, just the day before, he was fretting over his inappropriate feelings for his annoying, bespectacled git of a housemate—not the mechanics of changing nappies!

Thank Merlin it takes a village to raise a sack of flour, ah, child.

***

Fic

***

White, Blonde & British

Prompt: “Red, White & Royal Blue”, 2023, Matthew Lopez Author: SortofShea Word Count: 40,058 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Mentions of death, drug and alcohol use and abuse, homophobia, racism, discrimination

Summary: Prince Draco Malfoy is known all over the world as “The Modern Day Prince Charming”, ask anyone - well, anyone except for Harry Potter, first son of the Indian president and (self) sworn rival of said stuck-up, snobbish prince.

***

drag the past out into the light

Prompt: "Se7en", 1995, David Fincher Author: ChaosBitch Word Count: 20,796 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Summary: There's a serial killer stalking magical London. The murders are gruesome, bizarre, and somehow connected to the Voldemort wars. Auror Harry Potter is paired up with an analyst from the Department of Mysteries to piece together the clues in the killer's unsettling game before they kill again.

The good news? This analyst is the best one on offer. The bad news? It's Draco Malfoy.

***

the beating of our hearts (is the only sound)

Prompt: "Pacific Rim", 2013, Guillermo del Toro Author: Pineau_noir Word Count: 12,675 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: canon (Pacific Rim) creature grossness

Summary: Do you want awesome, kickass fights between giant robots and aliens??!?!?

Go watch Pacific Rim.

This is a story about two flawed men who fall in love during an apocalypse.

***

Draco Malfoy's New Guide to Old-Fashioned Dating

Prompt: "How to Lose a Guy in 10 days", 2003, Donald Petrie Author: caliowl Word Count: 52,377 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: Non-Consensual Drug Use

Summary: When Harry's job as an auror is threatened by his perceived negative attitude towards Death Eaters, he makes a desperate gamble with his boss to save it. Bring a Death Eater as his plus-one to the company holiday party. Unfortunately for him, there's only one person he can think of to ask...

Meanwhile, in order to save his best friend Pansy Parkinson from a terrible social fate, Draco Malfoy makes a bet with Pansy's mother. He believes that old-fashioned, traditional courting methods are the best way to repel, not attract, a potential suitor. Now, if only he can find a wizard who has no clue about those methods...

***

Black Sheep

Prompt: "Shaun the Sheep", 2007-2020 Author: shushu_yaoi_lj Word Count: 10,808 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: smut, dirty talk, praise kink, soft d/s dynamics, begging

Summary: “You know, Potter, maybe all you need to win is a little—incentive, let’s say.” “An incentive?” Harry asks, his interest piqued. He takes a step closer to the fence, and then another one, until he’s standing so close that he can smell the intoxicating scent of Malfoy’s expensive cologne. “Shall we say that if you win, you can have whatever your heart desires?” Malfoy replies with a smile. “Anything.”

***

Jackknife To The Heart

Prompt: "Mad Max: Furiosa", 2024, George Miller Author: sleepstxtic Word Count: 11,723 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Gunfights

Summary: Draco licked his lips, slow and sensual. He climbed over Harry’s lap and slid down onto his knees. “Keep making love to me, darling,” he said, gazing up at Harry, something starry in his eyes; and then he pulled down Harry’s pants and took his cock in his mouth.

Harry sucked in a breath, threw the shifter into gear, and drove.

***

First Impressions

Prompt: "Pride and Prejudice", 2005, Joe Wright Author: ActuallyMoon Word Count: 87,934 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Period-typical racism and colourism (only present in one chapter), A/B/O dynamics, Dubious Consent, Classism, Smut, Mpreg

Summary: At the Shacklebolts' ball, Ginny found herself irrevocably smitten at first sight with Ms Pansy Parkinson. Meanwhile, her brother, Harry Potter, became the unfortunate target of biting remarks from Parkinson's haughty and aloof best friend, Mr Draco Malfoy. Harry's disdain for Mr Malfoy grew, fuelled by the latter's evident arrogance. Amidst this burgeoning animosity, Ms Romilda Vane began to spread malicious rumours regarding Malfoy, further tarnishing his reputation. Yet, the true nature of his character was far from what these tales suggested. Could Draco overcome his pride and Harry his prejudice, allowing love to blossom between them despite the odds?

***

Obscuro

Prompt: "Love is Blind", 2020 Author: stratigraphy Word Count: 35,227 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: None

Summary: Draco is grieving. His conversation partner is here against his will. It's a shameless rip-off of an insipid Muggle reality dating show. Hardly the occasion for true love, if you ask Draco. feat. a cat named Marmalade, a bird named Mumble, Lee Jordan's answer to Love is Blind, and two best friends who only want their dads to be happy.

***

Eternalism is a Never Ending Day

Prompt: "Russian Doll", 2019 Author: JK_Terfling_Can_Suck_My_Silicone_Dick Word Count: 25,970 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: Temporary Suicide, Temporary MCD, implied/referenced Depression

Summary: Malfoy has been reliving the same day for longer than he can keep track of now, and has just assumed that he was dead in the real world, which was fine to him. It isn't until the time loop stops doing what he expects that it occurs to him that maybe there's something else going on.

***

Part 2 of this Master List with more lovely fics can be found here.

As always, reblogs here on tumblr are very much appreciated to share all the wonderful works of LCDrarry with more people. But of course, please also shower our creators with comments and kudos on AO3 ;D Thank you! Read you next year ;)

[cinnbar-bun]

The Heartless Giant Pt. 4

Pairing: Crocodile x GN! Royal! Reader

Rating: SFW-ish (some suggestive comments wink wink)

Word Count: ~2.5k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 AO3

Taglist: @gingernut1314 @fanaticsnail @leafyturtle @pookiesnatcher @lolom

You can’t help but be attracted to his eyes. Those dark eyes that promise nothing but pain, that hold nothing but emptiness inside. His words repeat in your mind over and over. 

“But don’t keep me waiting too long, dear.” 

His insistence that you did not need an excuse to visit him and that companionship was desirable replayed. You wonder briefly what it would be like if those eyes of his could have some light. If those eyes could ever reflect anything besides apathy, coldness, or arrogance. 

How wonderful it would be to be the reason his eyes have light again… 

To be the one to bring it back to him…

It’s shameful, wishful thinking, but in your rather boring life, he colors your mind with fascinating thoughts. Some of them are morbidly curious, but they are far more interesting and stimulating than anything from before. With only a few visits, he had imprinted himself in your mind and made you start to dream of things you never dared to before. 

One could start to get the impression you were becoming fond of Crocodile. 

Oh, Crocodile… what a strange name. But the more you say it, associate the word with him, the more it fits him. 

Big, imposing, quiet, yet so, so ferocious- his name fits him far too well. 

Violent tendencies contained within a barely held monster of a man. It’s far too dangerous but also brings a certain amount of imagination you cannot deny yourself. 

You wonder how he fought your father. What he was like in Alabasta. What he looked like when he was younger. Who gave him those scars? Who cut his hand off and made him need the hook? Just what havoc could he have wrecked upon your brothers if he was not occupied caring for you and giving them the opportunity to escape? 

These thoughts plague you, morning and night. You almost want to go ask your father directly about Crocodile, but you know the dangers of that. You know you could be inviting something awful by bringing up that man’s existence in front of your father. He’s already been suspicious of your behavior the last few days, you didn’t need to hand him the reason on a silver platter. 

That thought reminded you of just how silly you were acting over Crocodile. If you couldn’t even discuss this with your own father for fear of his reaction, you shouldn’t even be down there in the first place. 

So you waited. A few days pass, forcing you to occupy your time and acknowledge the pros and cons of seeing Crocodile again. The cons were clear and obvious, but the doubts, the ‘what-ifs’, the copious amounts of hope you were attempting to have in order to possibly justify another minute of him, always overshadowed the rational parts of you. You were already in too deep to back out now. Not when you couldn’t shove away all the questions you had wanted to ask him about. 

It was now the sixth night since you last saw Crocodile. If you went down now, would he possibly chastise you for not visiting in a while? Would he assume the worst? Or would he be grateful? 

Well, he’s a lonely prisoner, you think, it’s not like he has any other people to talk to. He would probably appreciate your presence, if anything. Although the moon is at its highest point in the sky, you can’t possibly sleep, not with these thoughts. This time, you go to your closet and quickly grab a wrap to cover your shoulders over your nightclothes. 

You do the same thing as before, taking a peek out the door before dashing to the bottom cellar. Thankfully, the freezing air is not as sharp thanks to the thicker wrap around you. You take more careful steps down the stairs towards him, before you hear a low chuckle. 

“Well, well, well… long time no see, your highness,” Crocodile’s voice reaches your ears. 

“How did you know?” You ask, seeing as he’s sitting with your back towards you and the fact that you did your best to be quiet. Crocodile motions to his ears, still refusing to turn around. 

“I can recognize your footsteps,” he answers. “You have?” 

“I don’t hear much else. Your footsteps at least mean I will see something nice for a change,” he laughs, again with that same humorless laugh. 

You nod and take a seat on the stone floor in front of the bars. An offering to him. 

He freezes then glances at you over his shoulder. 

“You’re getting comfortable,” he comments rhetorically. “So, why did you come today?” 

He still hasn’t turned around. “I felt bad.” 

“Heh. You felt bad? You felt bad for a criminal? Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?” “I can always just leave you alone,” you retort. “I thought you were the one talking about ‘companionship’ and what not last time.” 

“Oh please, you didn’t come down here just because you felt pity for me.” 

“I didn’t say pity-” 

“My point still stands,” he interrupts. This time, he turns around, and you notice his eyes look more exhausted while his smirk is more cold. “You weren’t really feeling bad. You desire my presence much more than you want to admit, huh?” 

His bluntness makes you red while you grimace and grip your wrap tighter. “I absolutely did not ever say or imply that.” 

“You don’t need to. You keep trying to act tough around me, dear but I’m not the kind of man you can just lie to so easily.” He leans in closer to you and tilts your chin up with his hand through the bars. “You missed me, didn’t you?” “I did not,” you huff. You internally scream at the fact he’s making you act like a petulant child. 

“Sure, sure, your highness. Just couldn’t admit the fact that you were starting to want me.” 

“Well, continue to be that way. I’m going,” you say as you begin to stand up. His right hand reaches out to grab your wrist while he shakes his head. 

“Oh no, your highness,” he tuts. “I’m not letting you go so easily now that you’re here. Come on, take a seat.” 

“With how you’re talking, I don’t think I want to sit with you,” you argue. A low rumble from his chest again makes your face heat up. 

“Don’t be so cruel… I began to miss your presence here. I don’t want to go back to that loneliness, you know?” “So you admit that you wanted companionship?” “Well, now you’re putting me in an awkward position, your highness,” he smirks. “Making me have to admit my feelings so suddenly.” 

You wait to hear what he has to say while Crocodile rubs his thumb around your hand in circles. “Well? What are your feelings?” “So demanding,” Crocodile flicks his eyes towards yours briefly. “Well, since you’re so desperate to know-” 

“I’m not desperate,” you glare. He looks deep into your eyes and chuckles. 

“My bad. But I have to admit that I’ve been missing your company. You forced your way down here and then didn’t even come see after almost a week? I thought for a moment you would have forgotten me already.” You’re taken aback by his confession and stare while he strokes your hand. 

“Prisoner got your tongue?” Crocodile flashes his hook at you while you avert your eyes. 

“No, I… I was just taken aback for a moment. I didn’t expect you to be that forward now.” “You simply forced my hand. Don’t question my feelings again if you aren’t ready to hear what I really mean. Otherwise I’ll keep having to make you squirm.” 

“You’re too much,” you groan as you take a seat on the floor again. “I don’t understand how you can say something like that with a straight face.” “Try being more honest, your highness. It might get you where you want instead of putting you on the defensive.” 

“That’s rich coming from you,” you say. “You can’t tell me to be more honest when you were busy hiding your secrets until I ‘enticed’ you enough.” 

“What can I say? I’m a hypocrite, your highness. That’s not my problem to solve.” 

You roll your eyes, but can’t help but laugh. “Maybe you should take your own advice. Be more honest and open.” “I don’t think you could handle my honesty.” “I doubt that. You should just tell me.” “No, no, no, that’s not how this works. You can’t have only me admitting and spilling my life to you. You have to give something in return,” he points his index at you. 

“Fine. What would you like to know?” “Any relationship experiences?” Crocodile bluntly asks. 

“Wha- seriously? That’s your first question?” You reply, unimpressed. 

“What? I’m just curious, is all. It’s a normal thing to ask someone attractive, isn’t it?” Crocodile raises a brow at you with a smirk. 

“You-!” You cover your face with your hands. “You go first.” “Fine. Hm… relationships… can’t say I have.” “You really haven’t?” You ask in disbelief. “I mean, you seem like the type to have experience.” “Don’t mistake my words. I’ve had plenty of flings, if that’s what you’re curious about. But actually courting another? No, I have not.” “Why not?” “Why would I?” Crocodile runs a hand through his hair. “None have impressed me before. Especially not when I was so busy attempting to take over.” 

“One-track minded, huh…” 

“Hmph. You could say that. I prefer to label myself as ‘committed’ to my goals.” 

“And what are those goals?” 

“You haven’t given me your answer,” Crocodile reminds you. 

You roll your eyes at his attempt to redirect your question. “None.” 

“None, you say? Interesting,” he nods with a smile. “Not even a bed-warmer?” “You’re so crass. No. Nobody.” “Now that’s impressive. How did no one come along and attempt to woo you?” He chuckles, reaching out to hold your face in his hand. 

“Well… a few have…” you admit, avoiding the deep examination Crocodile is giving you. 

“And why have they not turned into an opportunity?” Crocodile questions. 

“I wasn’t interested. The suitors who tried were vapid and dull. I’d much rather have continued reading and studying than bother trying to keep a conversation with them.” 

“So, you’re just as ‘one-tracked minded’ as I am, hm?” Crocodile teases. 

“I think I prefer ‘hardworking’ instead of that,” you correct with a smile. 

“And what do you tend to study and read about?” “Any and everything. Whatever catches my eye at the moment, I like to read about.” 

“A good trait to have. Continue chasing more knowledge,” Crocodile replies. 

Your eyes widen. “You mean that?” “I told you before, you may be physically weak, but your brain can mean the difference between life and death. Power means nothing if you cannot effectively think for yourself,” his voice lowers, suddenly returning to their normal tone. 

“That’s definitely true. I know I’m behind my brothers and my own father when it comes to strength, but I’ve valued my mind. I may not be able to fight head on, but I can do plenty of others things,” you confess. 

“I know. They don’t appreciate and understand that, do they?” “No, not really,” you shake your head. Your brothers have teased you plenty about your tendencies to bury your face in a book. Even some of your suitors have been mortified that you knew things they didn’t- feeling threatened by that knowledge. Crocodile was the first man besides your father to encourage and be impressed by it. It made your chest feel lighter. 

“What a shame. But that’s their way of bringing you down to their level. To make you feel lesser than and to settle for less,” Crocodile looks sternly at you. “Don’t you dare let them do such a thing to you. You’re a smart person, and your worth is infinitely larger than whatever they think it is.” 

“Thank you,” you quietly reply, touched he would say such a thing to you. “Truly. I haven’t gotten support like that before.” “Heh. Don’t go thinking this makes me a saint or anything. I’m just saying the truth, so don’t accept what pathetic dogs try to tell you.” 

“I guess I shouldn’t,” you agree, a smile creeping on your face. “I know what I’m capable of.” 

“Good. And maybe you can find a more suitable partner for you then,” Crocodile chuckles. 

You look at him briefly, your mind starting to wander as you think about what he could possibly be like as a- 

You shake your head and try to remove the thoughts. It’s a crazy one that doesn’t make sense. 

His eyes opens slowly as he hums at your expression. “You look lost in thought again. What’s on your mind?” “Oh, nothing,” you lie. You don’t look at him out of fear of making an even bigger fool of yourself.

“You’re a terrible liar, your highness. How do you expect to be diplomatic if you’re going to expose every emotion on your face?” “I don’t do that. I’m just not wanting to share that.” “Now why is that, hm?” He tilts you face to him and leans in, smirking. “You’re not thinking of me are you?” “I would never!” You shout, your face exploding with heat. “I was just thinking of… of…” “Still showing it on your face,” he pulls you closer and whispers into your ears. “If you’re that desperate to see what a man of my caliber can do, you can always just say so. I certainly wouldn’t be offended.” 

“I don’t want that,” you cover your mouth, knowing your face is exposing the truth. Especially with how hot his breath is against your ears, you can barely handle the close proximity. “Besides, even if I were to hypothetically want that, you’re still cuffed and locked away.” “Oh, your highness,” he chuckles knowingly into your ear. “I don’t need anything but my hand to show you something wonderful.” 

Your eyes drift to his right hand and you notice how large his fingers are. If they were to just- 

You shoot up and cover your face. “You are- you are a cruel man!” 

“I can’t deny that,” he shrugged, the smug look on his face not leaving. “But, when you stop playing hard to get, I can give you what you really want." “You’re frustrating. Good night!” You yell, turning around and ready to walk back to your room. 

“Wait, your highness,” Crocodile calls out to you. You look, curious of what he wants to say. 

Crocodile gives you a small grin. “Dream of me, won’t you?” 

[writingbyshiloh]

Cautious yet Optimistic and Graceful Part 2

Part 1 & Part 3

CW: Morally gray reader, F!Reader, John Wick-type universe (ie, killing, the reader thinks about past injuries from fights. training not descriptive). Not smut but suggestive thinking from both Vincent and the reader, mutual pinning, and worldbuilding but no description of the reader. Smoking, a nonsexual cigarette burn on the reader, brief drinking. MAYBE OCs (Fictional staff for the fictional hotel). NO BETA

Summary: The Marquis de Gramont still annoys you. But he needs help from you(r hotel). Like a good manager, you help. 

AN: PART 2 everyone!!! Thank u for the likes/comments/reblogs! This takes place a few months after part 1. IDEK if this is ooc the man had like 30 minutes of screen time overall and I’ve been writing this for a week. I read it a few times for spelling but something got messed up copy and pasting and a para or 2 got dropped. Part 3 will be out ???? soon(ish)

Something about today had his words bouncing around in your head. Out of all the ways to describe someone, he narrowed it down to three (well technically he used six). 

Cautious. Sure, you can see that. Out of a love of being alive, you tried not to take any unnecessary risks in your fighting days. You also tried to avoid having a marker whenever you could. There was one in existence with your blood on it. A favour for someone you thought was a friend. You held up your end, the bloody fingerprint stored in the New York Continental as proof. 

Optimistic. That also makes sense. You actually enjoy what you do, loving being part of the criminal underworld before and now. You haven't been the manager for too long but would already die for this hotel. 

The part that was throwing you was graceful. You didn't think you were that graceful physically. You have scars to prove that you've taken a hit, slash, or burn many times. Did he mean gracefully with people? Camille did so much for the hotel, you just deal with regular hotel things (like getting Monument Historique status for a collection of French weapons, take that, Vincent). The other part was implanting rules from the high table. Maybe just being graceful and polite when you were resisting the urge to claw your eyes out. 

It could also be flirting. You felt he wasn't the type to hit on someone out of the blue. Sure he was smart and confident, but it seemed like too big a risk for him to take. Unless he is just a playboy, which is something you find yourself tempted to google twice a day. 

You would rather die than admit it, but you almost like when he called you Mademoiselle. Almost. It was like a nickname, plus it brought out his accent more. When you found yourself enjoying.

To make things worse Camielle caught on to your crush immediately. While embarrassing, it did show how clever she was and you were glad she was the concierge. Her knowing also gave you an excuse to just tell Vincent your direct number, so Camille would stop reminding you how frequently he called.

You love the bar in the hotel. It is beautiful, decorated in an Art Nouveau style, with large windows allowing for the sun to filter in during the day. You were almost pleased that Vincent asked to meet you there, allowing you to subtly show off your business. 

Finding him at the bar wasn’t hard, no one else was wearing a dark green three-piece suit, complete with a complexly tied tie and their coat of arms pin. He looks good but tense, one long leg crossed over the other. Plus, you could see Chidi and another guard in their gray suits keeping an eye. You were thankful that you took extra time this morning on your outfit. 

You slid into the chair next to him, after shaking a few hands with other big names down in the bar for a late-night drink. 

“I hear you have a problem.” You say, while not knowing the full details, just that he wanted to meet you in the bar and something was wrong. It kicked your heartbeat up, even if you only told yourself it was the stress of him being here. 

“Correct.”. 

“I’m sure you know because of your love of rules, but I can only help those who are using the hotel services.” 

You didn't care that much, and would absolutely bend the rules to do him a favour, but couldn't resist a chance to get a dig in.

The Marquis pulls out two gold coins and slides them across to the bartender. He orders a top-shelf spirit before his eyes cut to you. Now he's buying you a drink in your own hotel. You would want him to buy you a drink in a different situation but at least he didn't order for you. That may cause you to actually kill him.  

Clearing your throat you order your usual, quietly thanking the bartender when the drink was placed in front of you. 

The bar wasn't loud, but he dropped his head towards you so you could hear him better and to give the conversation some privacy. 

“You have a cartographer here, no?”

You nodded. The cartographer is excellent. He had blueprints for buildings past and present, as well as the catacombs. He also had knowledge and keys to abandoned buildings if something had to be desponded and not be found. 

“How soon do you need him?” While one of the best, he was away for his daughter's wedding

“Tonight.” 

You took a small sip of your drink. You could probably get the information he was looking but you wouldn't be as efficient. 

“While we do have a cartographer, he's gone to a family event. If your plans are that urgent I can try my best to fill in.” 

Content with your answers, Vincent leaned back into his seat taking a swig of his drink. You took the finishing sip of yours before pushing out of your chair. 

“I have spare keys in my office. I’ll meet you back here in five.” 

For how commanding and prideful he is, you never expected him to need the services from your hotel.

The maps room was fairly boring. Three out of the four walls were filled with lockboxes to various maps. Blueprints, and documents for France and even some other countries nearby. 

“Are these your beloved catacombs?” The Marquis asks, studying the paper taped to the wall. You asked the map maker for more information and for ideas on what you could do with them. 

You hum in agreement, deep down thrilled that he remembered such a small part of your conversation ages ago. 

Your eyes jump over the numbered lock boxes in front of you, trying to find the one he needs. 

You half expected him to help you pull out maps and building plans, a blend of chivalry, showing off his height, and getting under your skin. He didn’t, letting you struggle with the lock instead. 

Vincent knew he should help you, but the way your back was arched as you tried to open one of the lockboxes out of the dozens was more interesting. His gaze moved over your legs, before looking at your ass in your skirt. 

Feeling the lock give a turn to the side, you peek inside the box to make sure the plans were there. Hand sliding in, you pulled the thin tube out, double-checking the label on the front to make sure it is the one you need. Leaving the box unlocked you turn to face Vincent, a triumphant grin on your face.

Maybe your grin and pride in getting the correct documents were a bit unprofessional but he didn't care. Not since the small room amplified the smell of your perfume and how the spent the better part of the last five minutes checking out your legs. 

Uncapping the tube, you pulled out the blueprints and spread them on the backlist glass table in front of you.

“Here are your prints,” you state awkwardly. You're not sure why he needs them, and why he personally came here. Chidi is keeping guard outside the map room, despite you repeating the hotel policy of no business. 

The Marquis nods in response already focusing on the table. You flatten a small map from the tube in case he needs context on the area. Not likely since he already knows what to look for, proven by his notebook and the constant sound of his pen against the paper taking notes. 

Watching him study the map may have been alright at first, but three hours later you are tired. There are only so many times you can look at his hair and wonder if he would get mad if you run your hands through, or gently tug it. Or what his hands would feel like, especially with his signet ring. 

The grandfather clock tells you that it's only 2:36 am but you feel like it's later. Even Vincent looks slightly less than perfect, hair falling out of place from where he had gelled it that morning.

He is a guest of your hotel so you're going to keep helping him no matter how long he stays. Just with a bit less optimism. 

“Mademoiselle?” Your eyes snap to his face at the sound of his voice, pulling you from your thoughts. 

“You look tired. You should go to bed,” he comments. 

Wow. Thanks, you think. 

“I’m okay. I’m happy to stay here as long as you need,” you say while hoping he leaves soon. “How are the plans going? The cartographer can help you with the finer details when he gets back.” 

“That is not necessary. I have all I need here.” He slowly stretches and starts to stand. You never considered it but being hunched over the table must have been hell on his back given his above-average height. Finally seeing your chance to go to bed, you quickly make it over to the door, opening it for him. 

“Merci, again.” He thanks you as if this is not your job. 

“Do you want me to walk you to the main door?” You have all your floor plans memorized. 

“We are fine.” He replies. 

He looks at you and you can't read his expression. He's less tense, obviously getting what he needed from the plans. 

“The high table did a good job making you the manager.” 

You feel pride swell in your chest, despite the exhaustion you feel behind your eyes. 

“Bonne nuit, Mademoiselle” 

“Bonne nuit. Bon matin.” You quietly wish him as he leaves, wasting no time putting the plans away and locking the map room door. 

You let out another exhaust of bitter smoke, watching it curl away on the cool night air. You didn't start smoking in Paris, but dropped and picked the habit a few times.

“Fumes-tu, Mademoiselle?” a voice behind you makes you flinch. You didn’t tell anyone that you have a secret smoking place, let alone that you went out to smoke. 

You spin around before relaxing at the sight of the Marquis, clad in a dark suit, his signature pin on the lapel reflecting the light. 

You nod, before realizing he probably can't see you well under the lights in the alcove. He is by your side quickly, long legs carrying him the short distance. 

You tip your head to the small table, where your rolling papers, tobacco and other smoking paraphernalia sit in a silent offer. Vincent looks at the table before facing you again. Guess he's too fancy to smoke you assume while taking a drag.

You turn your head to blow out more smoke, careful not to blow it in this direction, a hard feat considering he was extremely close to you. The smell of his cologne drifted under the smell of smoke. 

You move your cigarette down and out to the side, fully ready to see why the Marquis interrupted you. Watching his face, his eyes dipped down to your lips and then back to your eyes almost a silent asking. The smooth and sophisticated era was still there but there was uncertainty under it. 

You slowly leaned closer, not wanting to make the first move, but you want this to happen. He hand-cupped your face, the cool metal of the ring nice as he shifted closer, leaving a small gap for you to make the final push to kiss him. Just a few more inches and then -

Pain. A sharp burning pain on your pinky finger. 

You jerk back, trying to examine what happened. Your cigarette slipped while you were distracted and the glowing embers of the end dropped only to land on your pinky. 

“Shit. Sorry,” you apologize, letting out a nervous huff of a laugh while holding up your burn. The Marquis was unreadable, hand withdrawn. Does he think you rejected him? 

He reaches for your wrist and you let him take it. Slowly he brings your hand up to the outdoor lamp to inspect your burn. The stinging has subsided but you are sure the flesh is a bit swollen. 

With his free hand, he takes the offending cigarette and brings it to his lips. You can't help but stare, cigarette burns long forgotten as you watch him take a deep inhale, before exhaling over your head, so no smoke blows in your face. Part of you regret not making the final push to kiss him, while another hopes he takes another puff. 

Vincent brings your cigarette down to examine it in better lighting before placing it back in your hand, still firmly in his grasp. 

“It is not a well-rolled cigarette. It is too tight.”

There it is you think. The classic Vincent snark. But you secretly hope he rolls one so you can watch his hands and watch him smoke it. 

“You don’t have to smoke it.” 

“I just wanted to give you this.” He reaches into his suitcoat pocket, retrieving a white envelope. His hands brush yours while you grab it. 

You know his handwriting from the time with him in the map room, and you could easily tell he wrote your name on the front. 

“Thank you?” you weren't sure what was inside but you were being all the things he described you as. 

“I will go, and let you read it.” 

You watch him leave, thoughts racing too fast to try and save the situation.

Do you call out after him? Does he think you rejected him? Maybe not because he still gave you the envelope. 

You ash your cigarette before collecting your things and going back to your office. Maybe things would make more sense there.

Taglist: @heartrot666

[cattimeswithjellie]

Stream Recap, ZombieCleo, 6/09/24

((Since the first few of these I did seem to be going over well so far, I'm doing some more and we'll see how it goes. I am going to call them Recaps from now on though, because in almost every case I'm working off the VOD, pausing, going back to figure out who said and did what, etc. This Recap is from Cleo's Twitch VOD for Sunday, 6/09. I watched the stream live but parts of it were moving much too fast to note down accurately!))

0:00 Cleo goes live. She is on the Hermitcraft server, in the front yard of her base. She says hello to everyone, especially the weirdos in chat. She realizes the chat has been left in emote-only mode and turns them back on. She tells Chat she has just gone through her mail and there is a lot of it. She got two horn-of-the-month club deliveries at once, and she needs to meet with Joel about armor stand work. She has a sand and gravel coupon and a Mission Possible mission, so much to do!

1:40 Cleo goes into the house, warning Chat as she goes that she has “lored” in here. There are eight books she has written just for this room, all for the lore. She goes back outside and spots Cakebot on the roof, then laughs about how she always sees the bot and, thanks to the long distance and long nametag, thinks it’s Scar sneaking up on her.

2:40 Time to get started! Cleo shows off the Tower, which needs to be dug out into a tower base. They say they are actually working today which doesn’t happen often, especially this past week or two. Cleo has been too sick to reasonably work and so has been taking a sensible rest. A chatter asks if Cleo is going to die today. Cleo says they are feeling better, somewhat, and not going to die. The cats are fighting in the background.

4:20 A chatter asks why their message was deleted. Cleo tells them to read the rules. She greets Cam the mod.

5:30 A chatter engages Cleowo mode. Cleowo interacts with the chat and thanks subs. Today is the first day Cleo has been feeling well enough to go outside in awhile. She quotes The Little Mermaid as a prose poem. The Little Mermaid was the first movie Cleo got to watch in the cinema, and that’s how old she is. A chatter plays a spicy jelly bean. Cleo says they also moved into the new office, which is mostly clean and painted and pretty.

7:45 Cleo leaves to get tissues and wishes everyone a happy Pride. She needs birch wood for the build and goes to find it in the basement. Cleowo mode ends. She thanks subs and donos as she navigates through her base.

9:20 Back at the tower build, Cleo needs to figure out something to do with the roof. They contemplate maybe blocking it off entirely. Chat is trying to remember their first Disney movies. Cleo assures them that this is not a quiz and they don’t need to remember or share that information. ((For the record: the animated The Little Mermaid released in the UK in October 1990. This probably makes Cleo slightly younger than the livestreamer, whose first Disney theater experience was Who Framed Roger Rabbit.))

10:30 A chatter asks if this will be on the test next week. Cleo adopts an extremely ominous voice to reply that nothing will be on the test next week because “NEXT WEEK DOESN’T EXIST!… because it’s an abstract concept.” A chatter plays a cheerful musical sting that makes the whole thing sound like the last punchline in a sitcom.

10:40 A chatter says they will not disclose their first movie because they are too old. Cleo says they are not going to force anyone to disclose anything in chat, movie telling is not mandatory. Everyone is cool here, no narcs allowed in the chat. The mod reminds Chat not to get specific about ages. Cleo agrees and promises that one of these days she will remember to support the mods on that issue, but possibly not soon. Cleo lines up a zinger on herself, delivers it, says that was mean and blames chat for it.

12:00 Back to design talk. Chat continues talking about movies and theatrical productions. Cleo removes most of the mangrove from inside the tower in order to replace it with sandstone. She agrees that the Lion King musical is great and reminds Chat that she is very tired. Being sarcastic all the time can be a problem for her because people don’t always understand it and can become offended very quickly. Chat likes that Cleo is sarcastic. Cleo points out that the people who do get offended tend to leave and then badmouth her on the internet. Her first inclination is to ask them to come back, but then she realizes they would not do well in her chat anyway and so she doesn’t care very much.

15:00 Cleo tells a story of someone who didn’t understand their sarcasm, who got very offended when they said Cleo was wonderful and she replied “I know.” Chat is definitely on Cleo’s side for this one. A chatter says content creators don’t owe the attention of sub thanks to their audience, but Cleo believes that it is important to thank donos and subs, though sometimes she does miss things. She says she is known for being a screwup, even as she misjudges the blocks she is placing for her new wall. She sighs.

17:00 A chatter asks if Cleo is doing anything for Pride. They answer that they do not like in-person events because they are not good with large groups of people, but does participate in Pride things online. Being a member of the community, they feel, gives them a pass on having to do too much stuff. Cleo did enjoy MCC Pride. The tower area is clean now, but needs shaping and a couple of floors.

19:00 Cleo organizes her inventory for building. She has a lot of stuff she doesn’t want or need. She finds sixteen anvils and wonders sarcastically where those could have come from. She needs spruce but doesn’t think she has any. A chatter asks why she doesn’t use background music. Cleo explains that she has an Epidemic Music license for her main channel but not one for the VODs channel where this will be uploaded, and YouTube Music has neither sufficient music nor a good player. Other solutions for royalty-free music has gotten streams muted in the past because of YouTube’s overenthusiastic AI. They tell chat that if Chat has any good suggestions, they are listening. A chatter suggests using the Hotdogs on Your Face song exclusively, but Cleo jokingly claims not to have enough cards for that. Cleo has forgotten what they are doing.

23:50 Cleo thanks the subs. She remembers that she was putting in floors. A chatter plays the Hotdogs On Your Face song. Cleo is now hyperaware of the lack of background music. She says that she is not going to upload this VOD, so she will see about doing some Epidemic music. She asks chat for what genre they want. Suggestions include “Silence,” “Lofi,” “Elevator Muzak,” and “Jazzercise.” She chooses “beach destination chill.” A chatter plays “Hug a Creeper.” Cleo says they��ll get there. A chatter asks Cleo to give some building techniques. Cleo suggests making a build more interesting by starting with a basic structure and then adding purpose-based additions. That is the easiest advice they can give, they are all tapped out for building advice. The chatter admits they were hoping to get some building skill through osmosis. Cleo sadly informs them that she has tried the same thing many times by sitting next to other hermits, but it does not work.

26:30 Cleo goes back to assembling supplies. Pixlriffs raids into the stream. Cleo welcomes the raiders and tells them that in this stream they are being obnoxious and facetious and other ous words. A chatter comments “So a normal Cleo stream?” and they respond “No, this one’s got music in.” They try to build a staircase in the tower and decide a ladder is a much better choice for the space involved. Pix’s chat tell Cleo that Pix was playing Elden Ring, a game Cleo knows nothing about. She hopes they had a fun time.

28:00 Etho is mentioned in chat (due to the “Ladders” nickname and his love of ladders). Cleo tells the chat she didn’t know about the ladders thing for a long time after meeting Etho. She didn’t know Etho before Hermitcraft and thus is much less in awe of him than folks who literally grew up watching his videos. She is aggressively _not_ an Etho fangirl. A chatter says they heard he was washed up. Cleo laughs and jokes that he washes up for supper sometimes. Chat is very enthusiastic about Etho, trying to counter Cleo’s amused dismissiveness with a list of Etho accomplishments. This is difficult because Cleo is not an Etho viewer and does not do redstone and is thus unimpressed by the Etho Hopper Clock.

30:00 Cleo decides to create a secret room to avoid having to deal with the unusually-shaped space at the edge of her base, while simultaneously trying to convince Chat that Etho is Just Some Dude. Chat is having none of it. Chat is also very in favor of Etho and Cleo as a Life Series comedic duo. A chatter mentions that Impulse also has a common redstone device named after him, the sorting system. Cleo declares this fact “cool” and reiterates that the things they know about the Hermits could fill a very small book, or maybe a pamphlet.

32:00 Cleo thanks the donos and subs, and makes a few more Etho jokes. They work on coming up with a design for the entrance to the secret room. Chat is still in Etho-mode and suggests maybe Cleo is secretly obssessed with Etho. Cleo points out that they didn’t even bring Etho up, only responded to Chat bringing him up in the first place. She assures Chat her days of not taking Chat seriously are coming to a middle. She blames Chat fully for this.

35:00 Cleo mentions new TCG cards are coming. Two of Cleo’s cards are already done and they are very good! A chatter activates Hydration time and everyone has a drink. Another chatter asks why Etho fans are here and not on Etho’s stream. Cleo laughs and asks why Etho fans are so obsessed with her. A chatter activates Posture Check Time. Cleo’s TCG cards are always good because they choose amazing artists, but they will not say too much so as not to give anything away.

37:30 A chatter asks how Cleo is feeling after Doc’s pigicide. Cleo answers “Litigious.” The tower elevator is coming together and needs signage. A chatter asks what her favorite minigame is, besides Decked Out. Cleo points out that they do not play very many minigames so don’t really have a favorite. They put signs in the elevator shaft to hold back the water.

40:00 A chatter asks what kinds of builds and genres Cleo would like to try in the future. Cleo says she mostly just builds what she is feeling at the time and doesn’t care too much about overarching themes or what other people think about it. She begins filling the elevator with water source blocks. A chatter says the build reminds them of the Owl House. Cleo does not know what the Owl House is.

42:00 Xisuma joins the server, says hello via in-game chat, and asks what Cleo is up to. Cleo tells Xisuma she is finishing her builds before Thursday, then explains to Chat that Things are happening on Thursday. Xisuma asks Cleo if Thursday is a secret. Cleo is not sure but says the details are probably a secret. Chat suspects that it is either a court case or base tours. Xisuma asks if Cleo needs anything, but they reply they are nearly ready and just have to finish building.

44:20 A chatter say that it is not difficult to guess what is happening, Cleo invites them to actually guess, if it is so easy. She says no special guests and no court case is happening, just Hermits doing Hermit stuff. A chatter says Joe mentioned base tours after the Hermitcraft meeting. Another chatter guesses update day, but Cleo explains that only Xisuma cares about update day. Xisuma messages again to offer wood and Cleo asks for spruce for the floors.

46:30 Cleo finishes the elevator and jumps down for more supplies. A chatter plays the Feral Ghoul sound from Fallout and startles her. Cub logs onto the server and exchanges greetings.

47:30 Cleo says there are a lot of things that need to be figured out right now, like whether a particle effect from ender chests goes through slabs. They currently have a floor that seems to consist of dark gray wool, carpets, and ender chests. Cleo takes up some of the wool and carpet and begins placing slabs over the chests. The answer appears to be “kind of.” A few particles are making their way through the wood slabs. A chatter who is the maker of the Armor Poser mod proudly announces that the mod is ready for 1.21 and hopes Cleo is excited. Cleo congratulates them and endorses the mod to Chat but says she has no input on when the Hermitcraft server will actually update. Chat notices that Cleo has not confirmed or denied base tours as a possibility. Cleo says they can see why chat might think that and continues not to confirm or deny. Xisuma drops off some spruce and flies away like the Lumber Fairy. Cleo declares that X is the best and has forgotten again what she is doing. A chatter plays Sour Jellybean.

50:40 Cleo remembers it is time to Hug a Creeper. They set spawn and fly into the air, falling from a high place. They collect up their bits while gloating about being able to legally claim sour jellybeans as a business expense. Pearl signs on to the server

51:50 Cleo responds to a chat suggestion that trapdoors might let in more particles than slabs do. They make a bunch of spruce trapdoors from some of Xisuma’s logs and place some of them down, but it’s hard to see the particles in the current testing area. Cleo begins picking up the floor to move elsewhere and mentions receiving a troubling message from Pearl in the mail. She flies down to her mailbox and shows the large quantity of mail parcels she talked about at the beginning of the stream, including one that contains a single block of purpur and requests that Hermits buy more purpur from Pearl. Cleo confesses that she doesn’t like purpur at all but feels like she should maybe buy some from Pearl anyway as she clearly seems to be suffering. Chat somerwhat incoherently tries to inform Cleo that the parcel is from Joel, who lost a bet with Pearl and was forced to advertise the Purr-Purr shop and raise sales for Pearl. Cleo eventually parses what Chat is trying to say and is no longer concerned about Pearl’s message.

55:00 Cleo goes back to picking up the trial floor from the wizard tower. Pearl writes in the in-game chat that Chat has been losing her sales since 2024. Cleo tells her that purpur is gross, but because it is Pearl selling it, they will buy some. Cleo likes the look of spruce trapdoors over ender chests and decides to buy purpur in celebration. Chat asks what time it is for Pearl. Cleo believes it’s around 6am, Pearl-time. Pearl says she has a minigame to build. Cleo tries to convince her she does not have to build minigames at 6am.

57:10 Cleo arrives at the purr-purr bus and admires the new dumpster, saying it’s a good addition. She doesn’t really understand how Iskall can hate diorite so much when purpur exists and is a much better target. They shake their head over the prices in the shop but buy a bunch of chorus fruit to make end rods, plus some end stone. According to Cleo, buying purpur-adjacent things definitely counts as supporting the shop. Pearl is grateful. Cleo says that Pearl is undercharging and pays extra for all the chorus fruit. As Cleo flies away she notes that between herself and Cub, they have most of the server’s money right now.

59:30 A chatter asks what the bottom half of the vTuber looks like. Cleo adjusts their stream position to make the entire vTuber figure visible. Chat is impressed that Cleo has legs. FalseSymmetry, in stream chat, comments “omg legs (in caps)” to circumvent the stream rule against all-caps. Cleo shows off the limited set of movements available to the full-body figure, then puts the figure back in the usual place.

1:01:00 A chatter mentions that the vtuber figure can walk and can be used to replace the default character in certain games such as Valheim. Cleo confirms that it can be used for some games, like Valorant, and she could stomp around in there as Cleo if she wanted to. She cannot use the model on VR games because it is above the poly count. It’s primarily intended for vtubing. Using it for VR would be pretty rough on game performance.

1:02:15 Someone plays the Poe Poe Siren (Skizz singing the Poe Poe song) outside Cleo’s base. It is definitely Scar, who just signed onto the server. Cleo fetches their own horns and plays Skizz’s “Dang it, Scar!” horn, then yells for Scar to come back with a warrant. They go back inside just in time for Scar to play Xisuma’s “This is Illegal!” horn.

1:03:00 Cleo realizes that this is a war. She plays Etho’s “There was some kidnapping involved” horn.

Scar retaliates with his own “Trader Scar’s not going to eat you” horn.

Cleo plays Grian’s “I’m eating a curly-whirly right now” horn.

Scar plays Impulse’s “Say it and we’ll bleep it out” horn.

Cleo plays her own “Oh no-woh, not Joe-wo” horn.

Scar plays Ren’s “I’d like to see your butt, please” horn.

1:04:10 Cleo yells to Scar that she has run out of horns and demands to know where he is. Scar flies overhead and repeats the Ren horn, followed immediately by the Michael Scott “I declare Bankruptcy” horn. Cleo giggles and declares she needs to buy more horns, then remembers she has an ace in the hole. She heads for her mailbox, finds and plays the “I see you” horn from the Horn of the Month Club.

1:05:15 False logs into the server just long enough to play her own “OMG hiiiiii” horn, then logs out. Cleo play’s Gem’s “That’s Amazing!” horn. Th3Pooka raids into the stream.

1:05:45 Cleo thanks the raiders and welcomes subs. They have once again forgotten what they are doing. Chat reminds them that they are working on flooring.

1:07:00 Someone plays a horn from The Office outside. Cleo plays the “I see you” horn, explaining that even if she doesn’t see him, she has to play the horn. She returns to working on her floors. A chatter asks what program the vTuber model was made in. Cleo does not know but points the chatter to the link for the designer, MotherLyra. Zedaph suffocates in a wall.

1:08:20 Someone plays the MGM Lion horn, startling Cleo. They follow it up with a horn (maybe Etho or xB?) saying “I chop, I dig, your mom is really big.” Cleo plays the “Dang it, Scar” horn again. Someone plays Scar’s “Take a look at how big my booty is” horn. Cleo plays Tango’s “I see you” horn again and yells to Scar that she only has limited horns . Scar, who is stream-sniping, disclaims responsibility in in-game chat, even as someone plays Iskall’s “What are you doing?” horn. Cleo guesses it must be Cub. Cleo decides it’s either Scar or Cub, or both, or Pearl, or Tango, or Xisuma. Scar asks Cub in chat where the alien horn is.

1:09:50 Cleo attempts to go back to work, while admitting that they are not trying very hard to work. A chatter asks why Cleo has so many ender chests. Cleo says it is for the particle effects, then jokes it is because they have an addiction but most people don’t comment on it. In game chat, Cub tells Scar that the alien horn should be at the shop unless someone already bought it. Cleo wants to know more about the alien horn. Outside the window, Pearl plays Scar’s booty horn again and flies away. Cleo plays the “I see you” horn again. Zedaph suffocates in a wall again.

1:11:10 Cleo bemoans her own lack of horns, while Scar suggests that the alien horn has probably been sold. A chatter plays a scary noise, but Cleo is currently immune thanks to all the horn shenanigans. They go back to work, declaring loudly that they are feeling bullied, and it is because the hermits are bullying them. It’s not just one of those feelings, it is definitely bullying. Pearl assures Cleo in chat that it is only love. Cleo replies that one can bully with love, and invites Chat to “Ask me how I know.”

1:12:10 Cleo asks Cub if he’s done the Xisuma legs horn yet. Cub says not yet, but maybe for next batch. Cleo is pleased about that possibility. They want to hear the legs horn, because it is weird. False rejoins the server. Xisuma, who has been silent for a long while, asks what about his legs in game chat.

Cleo tells him they’re very pretty. Cub explains that Xisuma made a remark that tickled Cleo. X says thanks and that he never skips leg day. Cleo chuckles and mutters “nerd”

1:13:30 Cleo confesses proudly in game chat that they always skip leg day. Scar thinks someone got the alien horn from the shop and appears uncertain about what to do. A chatter plays Xisuma’s “Legs Legs Legs LEGS!” sound, which Cleo had forgotten was an available bits-reward sound on their channel. Scar plays the “Darth Vader Breathing” horn but Cleo is distracted. A chatter asks where the Legs soundbyte is from, and Cleo tells them it’s from MCC Pride where they were on a team together. Scar plays the Michael Scott “Inside Joke” horn. Cleo greets Scar and/or Pearl, possibly both or neither, whoever is out to get her, specifically.

1:15:15 Cleo talks about MCC Pride and hopes no one was expecting them to win. Scott has not officially told Cleo that they are being added to teams as a nerf, but that it’s just generally known. Cleo’s role in MCC is “ballast.” Scar asks Pearl if she bought the Alien horn, Pearl does not know what he is talking about. Someone plays the “Hello there!” horn. Cleo runs outside yelling “Oh my god, hiiii!” but no one is there. Cleo is disappointed, and asks that whoever is blowing horns at least say who they are. Chat believes it’s definitely Scar. Cleo plays the “Dang it Scar!” horn again.

1:16:45 Zedaph falls out of the world. Xisuma describes this as Zed doing Zed things. Cleo agrees and says that’s pretty much his job. A chatter asks Cleo what is their favorite “Cleo thing” to do. They say sleeping, mostly. A chatter asks if Cleo has any information on books or info about lgbtq+ issues. Cleo says not really, they don’t read up on it much, just experience it from their own perspective. They refer the chatter back to the chat for recommendations.

1:19:00 A chatter asks why the floor only has a certain number of ender chests under it. Cleo explains that it’s going to be a summoning circle, and the ender chests are in a circle under the floor to provide particles in that exact spot. A chatter asks about using a spore blossom for more effect, but Cleo explains the range is too wide. A chatter plays sour jellybean. Another chatter plays a door noise. Cleo turns the music back on. A chatter notes that Cleo now has a convenient crawlspace under the floor. Cleo agrees, but says they did not plan it that way, because planning is for losers. She parenthetically adds that she is a loser. Zedaph blames Tango for his untimely death in in-game chat. Cleo agrees that most things are Tango’s fault.

1:21:30 A chatter asks how people are playing noises and jellybeans, Cleo explains the Streamloots program. Another chatter admits that they have read a great deal of fiction and anecdotes about the lgbtq+ experience, but not much nonfiction and nothing to really recommend. Cleo agrees that this seems pretty common, and talks about how if mainstream sources won’t provide gayness, the community will make it for themselves. A chatter plays Favorite Things, and Cleo says mostly intangible things, like the way you feel in the morning when the sun is rising and you know people you hate are suffering. She says she doesn’t understand why people think she’s so sinister all the time. She also likes petrichor.

1:23:45 Cleo begins texturing the new floor with slightly lower trapdoors in places. They talk with Chat about queerness in history and how it is difficult to know exactly what it was like in the past because so many things were different. They reorganize their inventory again and go into the mines to find a box of crystals for decoration. Cleo is too tired for in-depth discussion on these serious topics and just needs to get some crystals. A chatter puts the chat into emote-only mode, Cleo refers to that as the “Cleo says stop” button.

1:28:00 Cleo finds the geode and begins harvesting crystals. They love amethyst noises, and wants to put amethyst under carpet someplace in the build. There are not as many crystals as Cleo was hoping for, and they take some time to free up more faces on the crystal-producing blocks. “Crystals are going to become important!” she teases. She agrees with chat that amethyst needs more block variations, since it is a far nicer color than purpur. The crystal noises are very soothing.

1:31:20 Cleo says that the most annoying thing you can call a geologist is a “crystal girlie.” Chat does not understand the term. A chatter says their geologist friend doesn’t like being called a rock-licker. Cleo says rock-licker is fine and if they don’t want to be called a rock-licker they should stop licking rocks. Cleo explains that a crystal girlie is someone who believes in crystals for healing and energy alignment, rather than studying them scientifically. Chat has a discussion about eating rocks. Cleo advises that many rocks are inert and can be licked, but that one should not lick rocks instead of taking medicine. Some rocks should not be licked at all. Cleo specially advises Chat not to eat uranium and suggests (then immediately unsuggests) that they look up radium girls. ((A sad story from history of some workers who became the reason for later regulations.))

1:36:00 Cleo transforms her crystals into “charged crystals” by renaming them on an anvil, then puts them in a similarly-transformed “Lead-lined Storage Crate.” The box goes into the new tower room for decoration. A chatter plays Teeny-tiny Zombie Cleo, Cleo sings the song. Cleo looks for one of the lore books in the library room that has information about crystals. They do not find it, but find a note about crystals in a cupboard. Pearl asks in chat for verdant froglights. Joe has been buying all Etho’s stock, but Cleo has some in storage. She invites Pearl over to get some. A chatter plays spicy jellybean.

1:41:10 Pearl arrives and yells hello. Cleo provides her with several stacks of verdant froglights, even though Pearl only truly needed four. Pearl is happy for the extra froglights because she likes the green tinged light. Cleo says green-tinge is the best tinge. Pearl says that pearlescent froglights are also pretty great. Cleo says they’re not her favorite. Pearl says she’ll let that slide because Cleo has been so generous and flies away. Cleo blesses Pearl’s little cotton socks and calls her adorable.

1:42:30 A chatter says that Pearl was their first introduction to Hermitcraft. Cleo says that is valid but also unusual, Pearl is not one of the more common vectors into Hermitcraft. A chatter plays Giant. The first chatter explains that they started watching in S8 with Pearl and Gem and their friends. Cleo is happy about how the community has grown. They also can’t wait for the new paintings. Cleo creates a painting to cover the secret door, but does not particularly like the only design that covers the space.

1:45:00 Cleo declares it’s time to clean up the roof, because it looks like arse. Pretty arse, but arse. They are not worried about structural integrity because magic, but some crossbeams would look nice. Cleo says that sometimes it is hard to explain their thought process while building because sometimes there is no thought, just building. They begin adding crossbeams to the interior roof and talking about building process or the lack thereof.

1:49:40 A chatter asks if Cleo has a favorite fan song. Cleo says no, they have not heard many and generally try to keep their research in a bubble. A chatter plays sour jellybean. Cleo says she will watch most Hermit stuff, but the fan stuff can be biting. She wants to keep just a little sliver of joy in her life. She goes on to clarify that “I’ve got two diamonds” and other songs written just for her are exceptions, but fan stuff can be mean in general and she avoids it. A chatter mentions that Doc talks about fanfiction on stream all the time. Cleo says Doc is insane. They don’t need to worry about what Doc is doing, because it is always THE WRONG THING. Chat is not happy about the idea of anyone being mean to Cleo. Cleo clarifies that in fan spaces, fans tend to assume she will not be there, and they tend to speak their minds bluntly. When they’re talking about the character, it’s just opinion, but when they talk about her as a person, it’s hard to deal with. Cleo does not fault the fans, it is a difference of perception between Cleo as the person and Cleo as the character. What they are doing is not harmful in itself, but Cleo seeing it is harmful because it makes her feel bad and she has learned to avoid it. At the same time, 99.9% of the fandom is lovely.

1:55:20 A chatter says their partner is trying to watch every hermit, but doing so during Decked out in S9 got pretty tiring. Cleo does not recommend trying to watch every Hermit because that is too much and too difficult. They realize that many people like other hermits more than they like them, and they’re okay with that. They will never be everyone’s favorite and that is fine. Pearl, in in-game chat, agrees that Hermitcraft is fantastic because of its wide variety of creator styles. Cleo has a hard time finding her saplings and wonders if they might be in the orphan-crushing machine. Chat is confused about the orphan-crushing machine, which appears to be a bonemeal farm. A chatter plays Hydration Time.

1:58:00 Cleo reiterates that they avoid fan spaces and explains that fans sometimes just say rude things on the internet. She can know that a take is bad (“Cleo doesn’t deserve to be on Hermitcraft’) but that doesn’t mean it won’t sting. Pearl chimes in with a story about a Tiktok she saw where all the comments were kind except the ones about her. Cleo is instantly sympathetic and assures Pearl she is wonderful while threatening the lives of the haters. Tango alerts the server to potential lag incoming. Cleo says she doesn’t mind living and letting live with people who are mean to her, but nobody can say bad things about Pearl. Pearl says that most of the community is wonderful and she’s just getting used to living with the bad part. Cleo asks for advice about how to do that, because she has been on Hermitcraft for nine seasons and it is still hard. Cleo talks about the fine line between not feeding the trolls and not clapping back when it would be better to do so. A chatter plays Favorite Things. Cleo says it’s the mail system, because they had nine messages today and it was cool.

2:03:00 Pearl messages that when she starts feeling bad about fan negativity, she reminds herself that she shouldn’t care about the opinion of anybody she wouldn’t be willing to take advice from. It is silly to let the words of the haters have any impact. Cleo agrees that this is valid. They would not listen to those people’s advice, and would also probably say something very nasty to them. A chatter plays gross jellybean, much to Cleo’s chagrin. A chatter plays Giant Zombie. The jellybean is bubblegum, but Cleo would’ve actually preferred the mouthwash alternative. Bubble gum is a bad flavor.

2:05:50 Cleo wonders sometimes if she goes a bit too far, and mentions she might have been a bit too enthusiastic in verbal sparring with Doc. They reiterate the information about their TCG cards and the new expansion. The crossbeams are almost finished, and Cleo adds some above the windows. A chatter says they would not want to make Cleo mad, and Cleo confesses their bark is much worse than their bite. She also does fake anger a lot, because it is funny. When Doc killed the pig, she did get a bit too into the bit, but it was okay in the end. Doc shouldn’t have killed the pig! It’s okay, Cleo says, because he’ll suffer. A chatter asks what an HHH stream is. Cleo explains it is Hermits Helping Hermits and they haven’t done one for awhile because they and Joe are both busy. Cleo thinks she may have frightened Doc just a little bit and laughs about it.

2:10:10 A chatter plays Cleowo. Cleo says she doesn’t think Doc’s scared of her, more that he felt sort of guilty when the pig thing turned out bigger than he intended it to be. A chatter suggests that Doc didn’t realize Cleo was serious when they said they were attached to the pig. Cleo agrees that’s exactly what happened. Cleo has finished one building and has another one started, but they need to decide what is going to go inside on each floor. She takes a tour through the building. A chat plays emote only mode.

2:13:20 Cleo says it’s about time to call it a stream. They switch to big Vtuber mode and thank the chat for subs and donos. They insist that nobody sends them anymore firstborn children because they already have too many of them. Cleo raids into a non-hermit friend and ends the stream.

[runabout-river]

Do you believe that JJk part 2 would be made? The author seems to make it clear with the pacing, that the story is concluding in this series.

What other plot points could be addressed thoughtfully and with adequate pacing, if the trio's comeback, antagonist death, and main heros power escalation in the final arc, did not get the pacing it deserved?

It'll mostly likely wrap up in the next two chapters, with the last one serving as an Epilogue.

Thanks for this question! I'm going to cheat a little by copy/pasting a previous post of mine about everything that's still open ended in JJK, most likely will not get a proper conclusion in the last 3 chapters, and could serve as the groundwork for a potential JJK 2.

First, though, your questions seems a little misaligned. JJK is going to end in three chapters and there is no pacing issue there. Maybe it's a bad word choice or you've seen others talk about it like that, but chapter 271 is going to be a rounded end for the story that, in my opinion (08.09.2024), will lead into a JJK Part 2 because of these:

The Culling Games have not Ended

They still go on because players like Yuji and Hakari are still alive

We didn't even come close to the Merger

We have so much setup including pregnant Sukuna who left baby Tengen (probably) with Megumi now.

When as a writer you introduce world ending stakes, you better deliver on them even if only for the good guys to win against them.

Those stakes were never even reached though

The foreign invasion of Japan was introduced but then forgotten about

There are now militaries in Japan who abduct sorcerers for resources, giving Gege vast storytelling potential for the future

But Gojo could've dealt with them off screen and Yuta might continue to protect Japan in his stead now. This plot thread can be dealt with in the last 3 chapters but you would still ask: Why was it here at all?

Remy survived

Remy was the girl who tricked Megumi and who Megumi wanted to kill afterwards. Tsumiki's soul intervened on Remy's behalf and saved her, just for Remy to be abducted later. She's one of those characters Gege could've killed but instead we have a scenario where Megumi is poised to save her now while also getting into contact with Tsumiki's soul that hasn't happened yet

Tengen, the Star Plasma Vessel and the Six Eyes are connected by Fate

Multiple SPVs can exist simultaniously but not the 6E. After Gojo's death this minor detail mentioned by Tengen became obsolete for the story.

But then Yuta took over Gojo's body and now the 6E are back for this particular fate to happen again especially with Tengen's life in the strange state it is

Gege had come up with the story of the 3 Kugisaki women at the beginning of the manga

But instead of discarding it at the end of it, becasue it had no relevance or plot attention at all, Gege decided to open that thread and let it hang there, promising things to come like the bastard that he is with regards to the Kugisaki family.

Megumi's incomplete Domain

This is basic story telling especially in battle shonen: when you show the audience an incomplete ability, then by the end that ability has to be mastered barring a tragic end to the character.

Gege could throw us a curve ball about his domain with the last chapters but with Sukuna defeated now all tension of him accomplishing it is out.

But if this is Megumi's midpoint of his character arc and development, then everything regarding him, his domain and even his relationship with Sukuna can come to a proper end in JJK2

Sukuna's and Megumi's relationship and interactions were lacking in the end

But with Gege deliberately leaving behind 1 Finger, the option of Sukuna coming back as a curse, the remains of his first body most likely being permanent parts of Megumi, and not to forget the psycological and physical scars that Megumi has from him now, the potential for deep future interactions is there.

Sukuna's story has only been told to us from the perspectives of others

Sure, that does not have to change. Gege can leave it like that and he could or could not give us a Sukuna flashback in the last 3 chapters.

But he can go further than that and delve into that villain from more angles outside of mainly the narrator's and Yuji's.

He could eg go into the difference between Sukuna's relatiosnhip with Yuji and his relationship with Megumi to dive deeper into his personality

Kenjaku/Kaori, Jin and Yuji - none of that is resolved in any way

Just like how Kenjaku's true motives for creating the perfect vessel, who was in the end the perfect cage for Sukuna, was never explained.

So, yeah, I think JJK 2 is a real possibility with everything that hasn't been done and talked about, which was why I titled my original post with all of these points: "Gege kills off unneeded characters, why didn't he kill this?".

And I can see multiple reasons for why he would go the hard cut with the middle point of the series.

It's easier to structure narratively

he can make genre, theme and protagonist changes

he can get a break that can be longer than just a few weeks

it creates hype for the ending

keeping the story going makes him and his characters a cultural icon and him and SJ rich

also we would have a JJK 0, JJK 1 and now JJK 2, which would be funny

[roseghoul26]

Part 3

Arthur Morgan x f!Reader

"'Do you love me?' You asked, voice barely louder than a whisper.

Arthur nodded, gazing at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

'Then say it. I promise you, nothing bad is gonna come from it.'"

Synopsis: A retelling of the mission "Blessed are the Peacemakers", where instead of Arthur getting kiddnapped, it's you.

Tags: fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut, smut, torture, mentions of sexual assault, no actual SA, dutch is father figure, so is hosea, arthur morgan deserves everything, fem reader, afab!reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, not beta read

Author’s Note: soooo this was meant to be the final part but i got carried away so now there are four parts :D

also like 99% sure the location i describe later in the part doesn’t exist but im too lazy to figure out an actual one so just go with it please. and i have no idea if the robbery plan “arthur” came up with actual works. there’s a reason i write fanfiction and don’t rob houses.

part 1 ❉ part 2 ❉ part 3 ❉ part 4

Arthur had stayed by your side ever since then. He was gone some days, returning to you exhausted and sleepless, but still returning nonetheless. He helped take care of you as you recovered, attending to your every need with no complaint (you had joked that you were going to turn into an actual princess with his treatment)

By the end of the first week of your return, you had regained enough strength to get up on your own, being able to take small walks around camp and chatting with the others. You found yourself being able to stay awake longer, only having to stop a rest once or twice throughout the day. Also, most of your superficial wounds were pretty much healed at this point, small scabs and scars the only proof of their existence. 

By week two, you had started contributing with the chores, doing lighter work around the camps like sewing. You stayed outside of your tent more and more now, the weather at Clemens Point usually pleasant. The wound on your shoulder was doing much better now, and where deep purple bruises once resided were patchy yellow marks. 

When the third week rolled around, you were starting to go insane, having been confined to the one place for so long. You were pretty much back to normal, your energy returned and your wounds healed. You had begged every person who left camp to take you with them, but to no avail. 

You had even begged Charles to take you out hunting, but the steadfast man didn’t budge. Upon seeing your disappointment in his rejection, he relented… partially. Finding a spot far enough away from camp to not be an issue, but close enough for safety’s sake, Charles set up a small practice range for you to shoot your bow and guns at. You had hugged and thanked him profusely, your fingers itching to pull a trigger. He just requested you to not make him regret his decision.

The rest of the time that week was spent at the range, building back up the strength and endurance in your arms and shoulders. Your aim at the beginning was questionable, to say the least. Targets you’d normally have no issue hitting were becoming difficult, and you struggled to hold your pistol up for longer than ten seconds, your hands shaking and straining at the effort. Still, you persisted, and you found your marksmanship began to, slowly, come back to you. 

It was now the first day of the fourth week, the evening sun soaking the range in gold. It wasn’t particularly hot out, yet you still found yourself wiping beads of sweat from your brow as you started down the barrel of your rifle. There was one target left, a small green bottle roughly 200 meters downrange, slightly obscured by some hay barrels until only a portion of it was visible to you. Every other bottle lay shattered except for this one, which you’d been trying to get for what felt like forever. 

Grumbling angrily to yourself, you refocused on the object, sheer spite keeping your feet planted at the range instead of returning back to camp to retire for the night. There was a slight breeze, not enough to deter the path of the bullet, but enough to cause a few pieces of hair to flick you in the face. Your eyes focused on your target, and the world around you seemed to grow still. It was right in your sights, and you just had to squeeze…

You took a deep breath in, holding it for a split second, before releasing it. Your finger moved with your lungs, squeezing the trigger gently. A loud blast shook through you, and if there were any birds still sticking around, they would have flown away at your angry outburst afterwards.

The bottle stood intact, and you swore it was grinning smugly at you. With a huff, you released the empty shell, joining the growing pile at your feet. The sound of hoofbeats from behind caused you to lower your weapon, slinging it over your shoulder. The motion caused a slight tinge of pain to shoot through you, going away as quick as it came. Still, you couldn’t help the slight grimace of pain from appearing on your face as you turned to see who was behind you. The place that Charles had selected for you was just off the entrance of camp, so you had a slightly obscured view of people coming and going.

The sight of a familiar brown horse, and the sound of an even more familiar gruff voice had you smiling widely. Quickly scooping the empty shells into a bucket, the fresh one burning your hand slightly, you headed back to camp. 

As you approached, you heard many voices all at once, all greeting Arthur as he got off his horse. As he patted his steed, you saw him glazing around, eyes darting around as he searched for something. He must’ve not found what he was looking for, as he had a slightly confused expression as he made his way toward Dutch. The leader of the Van Der Linde gang stood outside his tent smoking a cigar as he warmly greeted Arthur, clapping the younger man on his shoulder. Arthur had his back to you as he talked with Dutch, and you were just out of earshot of their conversation, barely in the camp at this point. 

Passing Pearson’s wagon as you approached Arthur, you saw Dutch look around as well. When his gaze landed on you, he greeted you with a friendly smile, before pointing at you with his cigar over Arthur’s shoulder. 

Your lover spun around, an enormous grin on his face when he finally locked eyes with you. Finally close enough to hear the two of them, you heard Dutch say “We’ll talk later,” practically shoving the younger man away from him and towards you. He gave Dutch an incredulous look before returning his attention to you, smiling impossibly brighter when you were finally within arms reach of him. 

Setting the bucket and gun down at your feet, you wrapped your arms around his waist, burrowing your face in his chest as you held him close. A pleased hum left you as you felt one of his hands hold the back of your head, the other wrapping around your hip. “Hello, princess,” you heard him say. Tilting your head back so you could see Arthur fully, you stood up on your toes so you could kiss him. He held your kiss longer than what was probably appropriate for being in the middle of camp, but you couldn’t care less. After pulling away, he rested his head against yours, one hand still around your backside. His hat sat precariously on his head, dangerously close to falling off. 

“Hi, Arthur,” you breathed. “I’ve missed you.”

“Already? It’s only been a week. I’d’ve thought you’d been sick of me already.”

“Never.”

“And just what were you up to while I was gone?” You saw him eye the bucket and rifle forgotten behind you, and the two of you took a step back from the other, still close enough to touch though.

“I’ve been doing some shooting. Charles set it up for me.”

“Did he now?” He asked, not out of jealousy, but more out of concern of you overexerting yourself. 

“It was either that, or take me hunting. I’ve practically begged everyone in camp to take me out. I’ve gone a little crazy being stuck here.”

Arthur chuckled. “Noted. So,” he gestured to the weapon, “any luck?”

With a tight-lipped smile, you turned and  picked up the items, the rifle going back over your shoulder. You stepped out of the shade created by Dutch’s tent, the light causing your eyes to scrunch close. It was close to sundown by this point, but a nice amber glow still washed over the camp, with the lake turning into a body of lava. “Mostly,” you scoffed, and began walking back toward the range, determination now taking over you again. 

You expected to hear footfalls behind or beside you, but when you didn’t, you turned back around with a puzzled expression. Arthur just stood there, still in the shade, mouth parted slightly as he stared at you. 

Cocking your head, you thought that might get his attention, but you started to feel a little self conscious (and worried) when he continued to just look at you. “Is there something on my face?” you joked half-heartedly, tapping a rhythm on your waist as you awaited a response. 

The cowboy had a slight rosy tint on his cheeks as he shook his head, but he still held his eyes on you. “Nah, it’s just… you look beautiful.”

That was certainly not what you were expecting to hear, nearly dropping the bucket of empty bullet casings. “Well, thank you, Arthur,” you responded bashfully. 

“I mean it,” he continued, slowly walking towards you now. “I mean, you always look beautiful, but somethin’ ‘bout the light… you look like an angel, like you were taken out one of them paintings.”

You certainly didn’t think so yourself, but with the way Arthur looked at you, you just had to believe him. His hands now cupped your face, thumbs rubbing gently against your cheeks. “My angel…” he said, the words leaving his mouth gently like a secret. 

He held you, transfixed, until someone else in camp awkwardly cleared their throat. His hands dropped back to his sides, but he still had a lovesick look in his eye as he gestured for you to continue walking. “After you, my angel.”

The two of you walked in silence for a few moments. “So what am I, princess or angel?” You teased, willing your heart to slow down. You could feel Arthur’s heavy gaze on you as you walked. 

“You can’t be both?”

“‘Fraid not. One or the other.”

“Says who? ‘Cause they clearly haven’t met you.”

“You’re a silly man, Arthur Morgan.”

“I’m only tellin’ the truth! I swear!” 

Finally reaching the practice range, you stood where you had prior, and you set the bucket back down. Turning your head to look at Arthur, you were slightly startled at his closeness. Wrapping  around your midsection, he rested his head on your shoulder that didn’t hold your rifle. “‘Sides, you love it,” he continued. Kissing your temple lightly, he rocked with you back and forth, just enjoying the feeling of having you in his arms. You didn’t bother to reply; you both knew what your answer would be. 

Resting your hands atop his, you leaned back into him, your purpose for being where you were forgotten temporarily. The last rays from the setting sun lit up the field, but the growing darkness was beginning to take over. Sighing, you lightly stroked his arm, rousing his attention. “If you’re trying to distract me, you’re doing a good job at it.”

“Sorry,” he drawled, the slight laugh in his voice making it clear that he wasn’t at all. 

“I’ve got one more target. After that, I’m all yours.”

After a beat of silence, Arthur responded by opening his arms to let you out. The lack of heat from his body caused a slight shiver to wrack your body, the cooling night temperature not helping either. Bringing up your rifle and staring at your target through the scope, you found it hard to concentrate with his eyes on you. Still, you took a deep breath in, then pulled the trigger upon its release.

The shot from the gun shattered the peaceful atmosphere in the field, a few birds that had returned flying away instantly, their angry squawks and your angry curses following the blast. The shot went wide by a few inches, to your not surprise. Incoherently grumbling, you discarded the empty round, the new one loading in with a click. 

You fired off a few more rounds, each one missing your target by a small bit. It was getting late now, and it was starting to get hard to see the bottle now. 

Bringing the gun up again, you were about to fire, until a soft wait from behind you caused you to lower the weapon, looking over at Arthur confused. “No, no, bring the rifle back up.” As perplexed as you were, you complied, bringing the gun up like you were going to fire it, but keeping your finger off the trigger. You watched out of the corner of your eye as Arthur stalked around you, eyes scanning over you, assessing. 

You tried to keep still, but you couldn’t help but shift your feet nervously as his ocean blue eyes observed you. “You’re holdin’ it differently,” Arthur finally spoke, and you lowered the rifle back down.

“Huh?” Bringing it back up again, you did a mental scan of your body. Nothing felt different, but then again you did have a significant time off from using your guns. Maybe your marksmanship wasn’t coming back as well as you thought. 

“Nothin’ major,” Arthur continued. “It’s… it’s your shoulder. The left one. You’re rollin’ it forward more, and I think that’s what’s affecting the shots.”

So you tried rolling back your left shoulder, the injured joint stiff as you readjusted. Apparently that wasn’t enough, and you felt Arthur come back behind you. His chest brushed your back as he brought his arm up to your left shoulder as you held your gun up, holding it but not pushing yet. “Let me know if I’m hurtin’ you,” he murmured, and you could feel his other hand settle on your waist. 

After you nodded, you felt him press the shoulder back. It was slightly tender, but it didn’t hurt too bad. When he was satisfied with your new posture, which was starting to feel familiar, he mirrored the other hand on your waist. His lips were dangerously close to your ear as he leaned in, the fingers on your waist tightening ever-so-slightly. The proximity, while not unwelcome, caused you to take a sharp intake of breath. 

“Take a deep breath,” he instructed, a satisfied hum leaving him when you did so. God, his voice was doing nothing to help your flustered state. “Good… now, shoot.” 

Praying that your exhale wouldn’t come out shakily, you breathed out, pulling the trigger as you did, like who had so many times before. However, this time, instead of the sound of the bullet hitting the hay bale, the sound of glass shattering hit your ears.

Lowering the gun slowly, a joyous laugh left you as you finally registered you hit the target. Spinning around so you were facing Arthur, you smiled brightly, the same expression on his face. “Atta girl,” he practically purred, taking the rifle from your hands and setting it on the ground beside the two of you with a thud. His praise caused a jolt of warmth to shoot through your body, causing your blood to feel like it was simmering. 

Linking your hands around his neck, you played with some of the hair that stuck out from under his hat. “How’d you know I was holding it wrong?” you asked. “It wasn’t even that obvious, you said so yourself.”

You felt him shrug. “I dunno.”

“Spend a lot of time lookin’ at me, then?” Looking up at him, you could tell that some of his confidence was beginning to falter, scared of what your reaction would be to his answer. 

“I…” he trailed off, and you could feel his fingers, which had returned to your waist, begin to pick nervously at your clothing. 

“I don’t mind.” It must have alleviated some of his worries of making you uncomfortable, because his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you nearly flush with his own. His eyes darkened at the contact, and when you tugged slightly at his hair, and a similar whine to the one he let out last time left him. The two of you had shared a good amount of kisses over the past few weeks while Arthur was still here, but they ended before anything happened. This was only the second time you’d heard that noise from him, and you had forgotten how addicting it was. 

He said your name in warning, and you gave him the most innocent look you could muster. 

“You must look at me a lot if you’re able to notice something like that.” You couldn’t help the teasing tilt in your voice. 

“It ain’t my fault you’re breathtaking. And I sure as hell ain’t the only one who looks at you.”

“You’re the only person whose eyes I want on me.” Grabbing one of his wrists, you dragged his hand up your body, bringing it up until it reached your chest. His breath hitched at the action, staring at you with pleading eyes as his hand hovered uncertainty over your breasts. “And the only person whose hands I want on me, too.”

He pulled you impossibly closer, space nonexistent between the two of you. His lips were mere centimeters from yours, and you could feel his shaky exhale as you rocked your hips against his. There was a new heated tension in the air, something you hadn’t experienced with each other yet, but you were more than willing to cross that line tonight. 

“I love you,” he whispered, an utter devotion in his eyes that you’d only seen in the most zealous devotees. But there was nothing holy about the way his lips crashed against yours, desperate and needy and hungry.

The hand that once rested on your waist cradled the side of your neck, holding you securely as he kissed you. His other hand finally made contact with your chest, and you let out pleased groans as he felt you, causing your mouth to part slightly. Eagerly taking this opportunity, Arthur’s tongue swept into your mouth, and your hands fully tangled into his hair as he deepened the kiss. His hat fell somewhere on the ground, the soft thump unheard by both of you. 

He continued exploring your chest, and you craved nothing more than to rip your shirt off so you could feel him touch on your bare skin. Imagining the calluses of his hand running across the delicate skin caused you to shiver, which didn’t go unnoticed by the cowboy. You felt him smile against your lips, before moving his kisses to your jaw, to underneath, then trailing down your neck. 

“You like that?” his spoke, voice debauched. 

“Your hands…” was all you were able to get out before your focus dissolved. 

“What ‘bout them?” He spoke between kisses, littering them across your neck. 

“I want… I want you to touch me.”

He squeezed your chest gently. “I am.”

“Take my shirt off… please.”

“As much as I’d love that, we don’t want the whole camp to see you now. You only want my eyes on you, right?” You felt his teeth nip gently at the base of your throat. 

Groaning, you rolled your head back, partially out of frustration, and partially to give Arthur better access. His touch left your chest, trailing back down your body, inching closer and closer to your center. Rutting your hips up, you tried to meet him halfway, but he remained just out of reach. Instead of touching you where you wanted, you felt light touches circle your waist, lightly brushing the small of your back before settling lower. Grabbing a handful of your ass in his large palm, you felt him smile against your neck as you let out a surprised noise. 

His other hand left your neck, and in a show of strength lifted you into his arms, both hands now holding your backside. Interlocking your legs around his waist, you couldn’t help the shocked laugh that left you. It was no secret that Arthur was a strong man, his muscular build evident of that, but the effortlessness in the way he picked you up had your stomach doing somersaults. 

Still attacking your neck with kisses, you felt him begin to move forward until you felt bark against your back. “Arthur…” you panted, and you heard a pleased groan leave him. An unmistakable hardness pressed into you now, and you felt yourself unconsciously rolling your hips against him. Your own name left his lips, the last syllable trailing off into a moan, which he muffled in the crook of your neck. 

“Please. I need you, Arthur,” you whined out, and Arthur lifted his head up, resting it now against your own. 

“Here?” Arthur asked, breathlessly. When you nodded, you could see him fighting with himself internally. “You sure? It’s… you deserve better. Should take you out… get us a room. Hell, get us an actual bed.”

“I just need you.” You ran your fingers through his hair, the brown locs haven been thoroughly tussled by your hands. Pressing a light kiss on the crooked bridge of his nose, you poured as much sincerity as you could in the action. 

“Fuck… alright princess. But we’ll have to be quick. Someone from camp-”

An unmistakable raspy voice cut through the clearing, startling poor Arthur to the point he nearly dropped you. “Arthur!” John called out, and you felt the man below you grow deathly still. 

“Where the hell are you, Arthur?” John called out again, and you could tell that Arthur was debating whether or not to respond. When the younger outlaw yelled out again, he let out a regretful sigh, before slowly lowering you to your feet. Your knees wobbled, and you held on to his broad shoulders momentarily for balance. A small proud smile adorned his face, which promptly fell when he heard John’s voice again. 

“What?” He yelled back, not even trying to hide the annoyance in his voice. His hands were on your waist, tapping randomly as he awaited a response. You saw the light from John’s lantern begin to illuminate the clearing, so you tried your best to fix up Arthur’s appearance, smoothing out his clothing and adjusting his hair. Based on how the two of you looked, it wouldn’t be hard to determine what was happening, but you wanted to save some of the man’s dignity when facing John. 

Looking down, you saw him adjust himself, trying and failing to hide the obvious tent in his pants. Luckily, it was getting quite dark out, so he wouldn’t have to try too hard to hide it. You gave him a sympathetic smile, and he just sighed defeatedly. “Don’t kill him,” you half-joked, noticing the death glare he gave the figure approaching the two of you. 

Pulling away from you, he turned and walked over to John, you trailing behind him by a few steps. Gathering up the items you’d brought, you returned the rifle to its home over your shoulder. Out of the corner of your eye, barely visible due to the lack of illumination, you saw Arthur’s hat lying in the grass, which had been knocked off his head by your hands. 

You put it atop your own, and you found it sliding around as you walked up to the two men, wrapping your arm around Arthur as you joined in the conversation, which was turning into more of an argument. 

“You’re needed back at camp,” you heard John say angrily, not even looking at you as he stared the other man down.

“And I’m sayin’ it can wait. I’m busy.”

“Oh, really?” John challenged. “Doin’ what?” 

Arthur just gave him a pointed look in response, expecting John to figure it out.

“No, really. What is so important right now?”

You could hear Arthur roll his eyes. “Maybe the wolves really did eat your brain, Marston.” You let out a chuckle at that, and John finally seemed to notice your existence. Confusion, then realization, then finally embarrassment washed over his face as he took in your disheveled state and Arthur’s hat on your head. 

John shook his head, refusing to make eye contact with you any longer. “Just… just get back quickly,” he muttered, leaving the two of you as quickly as possible. You heard him grumble something under his breath, before wrapping you into a tight hug, locking your arms to your body. His hat barely stayed on as you tried to look up at him, and you saw his eyes widen as he registered what you were wearing. 

“You’re makin’ it real hard to leave, ya know?”

“So are you.”

“Yeah…” he agreed, yet made no move to loosen his grip. 

Arthur held you for a few moments, the fire that had been growing during the last minutes subsiding to a small candle flame. As much as you both wanted to just continue, the duty to the camp and gang took priority, especially for Arthur. 

Wiggling out of his arms, you returned the hat to its owner, but the angle you placed it at caused it to cover his eyes. “C’mon, cowboy. Giddyap,” you teased, lightly smacking his backside while doing so. You started walking back to camp, following the direction John went

You had gotten a few feet away before Arthur began bounding towards you, causing you to break out in a sprint. Laughing wildly, you ran through the trees, the branches whizzing past your face as you ran towards camp, Arthur hot on your heels. 

Because you weren’t far from camp, it only took a minute or so before you ran in, panting in exhilaration. Running to your tent, you looked behind you, expecting Arthur to be right there. When you were met with empty air, you halted, dirt skidding up at the sudden stop. Looking around, you peered through the darkness, barely able to see anything in the evening light. 

You saw Javier, Bill, and Micah all sitting around a nearby campfire, mindlessly conversing while Javier strummed on his guitar. You saw Molly in her and Dutch’s tent, which was between yours and Arthur’s, getting ready to retire for the night. Abigail was with Jack, sitting with him on her lap while Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen sat around another fire, drinking and laughing with each other. But for the life of you, you couldn’t find Arthur.

Without warning, you found yourself pulled into a strong embrace, the smell of leather and gunpowder filling your senses as Arthur grabbed you. A startled noise left you, turning into laughter as you felt his place a sloppy kiss on your cheek. “Gotcha, princess.”

“You scared me! How’d you do that?”

He gave you another kiss on your cheek in apology. “I’ve got my ways.”

“Is that all the explanation I’m gonna get?”

Arthur paused for a moment, debating your words. “Yes.” When you just shook your head in amusement, he gave you one last kiss before letting go, albeit reluctantly, and he walked around so he was facing you.. “I’ve gotta go see what they want,” he huffed. And… I just wanna say I’m sorry for tonight. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Arthur.” You tried to reassure him, but he continued to frown slightly. Cupping his face with one palm, your thumb brushed the top of his cheekbone lightly, and you felt him relax under your touch. “I know you’ll make it up to me, eventually. Tonight, just come see me when you’re done. I’ve… It’s been hard sleeping without you.”

“Alright,” he conceded, kissing your hand before returning it to your side. “Go get ready. I’ll be back shortly.”

“You better not keep me waiting, Arthur Morgan,” you warned, backing into your tent slowly. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess,” he said with a wink, then turning and walking toward Dutch, who stood with his arms crossed, watching the whole interaction between you two. You chuckled to yourself, knowing Arthur would never hear the end of it from the other men and camp. As your tent flaps closed shut, you heard Dutch say something to Arthur, who grumbled something out in response. A hearty laugh from Dutch filled the camp, and you just knew that Arthur’s face was beet red right now.

Undressing quickly, and now only in a chemise, you sat atop the bed, you glanced around your tent. Your tent, which was slowly becoming Arthur and your’s tent, was still lit up by candlelight. Your shared bed (which was yours and Arthur’s cots pushed together) sat in the middle, with the same pelt operating as your flooring. Arthur had yet to fully “move in” with you, but most of his belongings, which wasn’t a lot, sat beside yours. You guessed that in a few weeks he’d be offering his tent to the other members of camp.

Picking up your copy of A Cristmas Carol, you began reading, trying to pass the time as quickly as possible. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

As much as you tried to stay up, the minutes turning to hours as you waited for Arthur to return, you ended up falling asleep, not even tucked into the bedsheets. Your book lay open if you lap, as it had fallen out of your grip.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you remember how the words on the page began to blur, and how it became so hard to focus on the narrative. Eventually, you succumbed, no longer fighting the growing heaviness on your eyelids. 

The bed shifting caused you to stir, groaning slightly as the kink in your neck made itself known, the awkward sleeping position causing your body to protest. You felt the blanket get pulled out from under your legs and wrapped around your body, then a warm body cuddling up next to you, arm resting on your midsection. Shuffling back until your back was flush with their front, you heard Arthur murmur out an apology for waking you. 

You adjusted so your head was now resting on your pillow, and you wove your fingers through Arthurs. “It’s alright,” your voice was heavy with sleep. “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry,” his breath tickled your ear as he spoke. “Dutch wanted me and Lenny to go scout somethin’ out. Went longer than we thought.”

You let out a light hum, and a yawn threatened to overtake you as you spoke. “Tell me more in the mornin’. Get some sleep.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” Arthur replied, nuzzling into your hair and sighing deeply. 

Sleep came back easily, and you found yourself being roused a few hours later by the smell of coffee and light chatter. You and Arthur had swapped positions in the night, and you woke with an arm across him and your legs intertwined. 

As carefully as possible you disentangled from him, halting all movement when you heard his breathing change. Eventually you were free, and you sat on the edge of the bed. Glancing behind, you saw Arthur still fast asleep, a light snore coming from the man. 

It was nice, seeing him so at ease. The normal furrow in his brow was smoothed over, the creases around his eyes seemed less prominent. Everything about him seemed softer somehow, like all the troubles in his life had been sucked out of his body while he slept. You just hoped that one day you might bring him that same peace in the conscious world. 

Stretching as you stood, you quickly got dressed, being careful not to make any loud noises. You wore something simple today, opting for a pair of pants and a shirt. Eying Arthur’s growing pile of belongings, you chose to wear one of his button ups. You smiled as you put it on; despite being freshly cleaned, it still smelled like him.

Tucking the blue shirt in, you left your tent after putting your boots on. The bright morning sun caused you to squint heavily, making your way to the communal coffee pot. If you had to guess, you’d say it was about nine or so in the morning, most of the camp up at this point. Saying good morning to those you passed, you poured two cups of coffee, the liquid precariously sloshing over the edge of the cups as you walked back to your tent, drinking yours while you walked. 

You were about halfway back when you spotted Lenny sitting at one of the tables, who kept anxiously looking up at your tent while cleaning his gun. He gave you a polite smile as you approached, which heavily contradicted the impatient way he tapped his foot. As you got closer, you saw how tired he looked, and his eyes were bloodshot.

“Good morning, Lenny!” You greeted, trying your best to sound chipper. 

“G’morning, miss,” He tried his best to not sound annoyed, you could tell.

“Care to tell me why you’re glaring at my tent?” You teased.

Sheepishly, he dropped his gaze, the tapping of his foot slowly subsiding. “Sorry, miss. It’s just… I need Arthur up, and he’s in your tent, and I don’t wanna be improper and walk in there…”

Laughing loudly, you set one of the cups down on the table before patting him lightly on his shoulder. “You’re too good for us, kid. I’ll go get him up for you… if I get to come with you two, that is.”

“How’d you… you don’t even know what we’re doing.”

Shrugging, you took a sip of your drink. “I like surprises. So, do we have a deal? I’ll save you from having to walk into a lady’s tent, and then I get to tag along on whatever y’all are doing.”

“I guess,” Lenny sighed, but you could tell he wasn’t upset. He sounded more tired than anything.

With a final light tap on his shoulder, you picked up both drinks, taking another hearty sip from your own. “Thanks, Lenny.”

“Nah, thank you. From me and my dignity.”

His response had you rolling your eyes, shaking your head as you entered your tent. Excitement was growing in you, your desire to finally leave camp finally being fulfilled. Arthur was still passed out, and you felt bad for reaching down and shaking him gently. You watched his eyes flutter open, and you smiled warmly. 

“Good morning, pretty boy,” you brushed his hair back, and his eyes threatened to close again. He was barely awake, and you could tell because he had barely any reaction to what you called him. “Lenny’s waiting for you.”

That seemed to stir him, and he practically shot up out of bed, nearly causing you to spill both of your drinks. He cursed to himself, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes as he paced around the tent. He was still fully dressed from last night, the only things missing being his hat, shoes, and gunbelt, which you watched him grab and put on, turned partially away from you as he dressed. The furrow in his brow was back, and you also noticed the heavy dark circles under his eyes. 

Pressing the hot beverage into his hand, which he took with a soft thank you, you set you own on the nightstand before fixing the collar of his shirt which got all messed up during the night. “What time did you get back?” 

“Late,” he responded between gulps, either not noticing or caring that the liquid was scorching hot.

“Arthur…” you sighed. “You look exhausted.”

He just shrugged, neither agreeing with or denying your statement. “How long has it been since you’ve slept for more than four hours?” You’d always noticed how tired Arthur always was, pushed to his limits day in and day out, and this conversation wasn't new for either of you. Even before the two of you became lovers, you’d always hound him on his sleep, or lack of it. It was, however, the first time you’d asked him that question, and you could tell he was trying to come up with an answer or excuse. You found yourself coming up with a plan that would get you and Arthur away from camp, at least long enough to let him sleep for a while. 

“After we get done with whatever you and Lenny are doing, me and you are gonna take a little vacation. And you can’t say no.” You added that last bit when he opened his mouth to protest. 

As he woke up more, a confused look crossed his features as he comprehended what you said, and he turned towards you. “We?” 

“Yup. I’m going with y’all.”

“I don’t…” he trailed off with a sigh, realizing that arguing would be pointless. “Are you sure?” You nodded.  “Alright. We’ll fill you in on the details on the way there. Shouldn’t be too complicated.” He took a final gulp of his drink, and set the empty cup next to yours. “Also, you don’t gotta worry ‘bout me, princess. You focus on getting yourself back to normal.”

“But I am pretty much back to normal! And you’ve taken such good care of me these past few weeks, it’s time I return the favor.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” 

“Maybe I don’t. But I’m gonna do it anyway. I want to help you, to care for you. And like I already said, you can’t say no.” 

“You’re difficult, woman,” he shook his head, as if amused by your antics. “We’ll discuss this later. Don’t wanna make Lenny wait any longer.”

“Alright,” you accepted. “I’ll see you outside, love.”

Arthur actually short-circuited at the use of the new pet name, and you giggled as he stood there dumbfounded, and you left the tent before he could say anything. “Arthur’ll be right out, Lenny!” you shouted out, the man’s head snapping up as you spoke. 

Getting to his feet and slinging the very ocean repeater over his shoulder, Lenny gratefully smiled at you. “Thanks again, miss. Did he tell you anything or…?”

“Nothin’. Said you tell me on the way there, and that it ain’t supposed to be too difficult, apparently. Not that anything ever ends up that way,” the final part you muttered more to yourself, and it went unheard by the other. 

“You got a bandana? Gonna end up needin’ it. What we’re doing ain’t exactly lawful.”

“My favorite. Lemme go grab one-”

“I got it. Here,” you felt the cloth placed around your neck, Arthur securing it with a knot. “Go ahead and meet us by the horses, Lenny. We’ll be right there.”

With a nod, the younger gunslinger headed toward the hitching post. Adjusting your hair so that it sat over the bandana, Arthur then combed the stands back so that they were tucked behind your ears. “Is that my shirt?” He asked once Lenny was far enough away.

“You just noticed?” You chuckled, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder. 

“Shut it, princess.”

“Never.” You stuck your tongue out at him, then started heading toward Lenny. “You don’t mind, right?”

“God, not at all. I’d give you all of ‘em if it meant I’d get to see you wear ‘em every day.”

“Then what’d you wear?”

“Nothing, but I suppose you’d like that.”

Rolling your eyes, you faced forward to hide your expression as you imagined a shirtless Arthur. “Hush now,” you feebly reprimanded.

“Never.”

By this time you had reached your destination, mounting your horse (after thanking Lenny for saddling him up) who knickered excitedly. Both of you hadn’t been out of camp in some time, and you both missed the feel of the wind in your hair and the exhilaration of the ride. You wanted nothing more than to just bolt out of camp, but you held steady, tapping your fingers to try and let out some of the building energy within you.

Arthur, after mounting, took the lead as your group exited camp. After saying goodbye to Javier, who was standing at the front of camp on watch, Arthur began explaining the plan, going at an easy trot as the three of you rode, looking over at you as he spoke. 

It was a home robbery, and a rather large one at that. Located east of Valentine, about a mile or so from Emerald ranch, stood a large multi-story house that was rumored to be filled with precious items and jewels. Lenny and Arthur’s scouting provided intel about the guards that patrolled the ground, getting their general numbers and learning the relative schedule they operated on. By learning that information, they were able to figure out when it was best to move in order to not be spotted. 

Originally, when it was just going to be two of them, only Arthur was going into the house itself, Lenny staying back on watch, ready to create a distraction that would allow Arthur to leave unnoticed. But now that you were tagging along, it was up to you to decide what you wanted to do: join Arthur, or send Lenny with him and be on watch yourself. 

“Well, saying the last time I was on guard duty didn’t go so great, I’ll go in with Arthur.” Your “joke” seemed to only amuse you, but then you saw the way Lenny tried to hide a light chuckle. 

When Arthur had finished explaining, you were still only about a quarter of the way there, the casual pace Arthur had set making your journey slow. You tried not to seem too fidgety, knowing that Arthur and Lenny were quite tired and probably wouldn’t like to go as fast as you’d like, but there were a few times when you had to slow down TT and ease him back; it seemed you were both getting antsy. 

Arthur, bless him, took notice of this, and he moved himself off the road to let you take the lead. Taking your spot, you cocked your head, trying your best to keep your eyes on him. “Go to Emerald Ranch. Wait for us there.”

“Huh?”

“You look like you’re about to pull out all your hair. Go ‘head and ride out ahead of us, fast as you like… but be safe. We’ll meet you there.”

You’re sure you looked crazy with the excited grin on your face. “You’re serious?��

“Very. Now,” Arthur shooed you, “go.”

“I love you, Arthur Morgan,” you said, before taking off in a cloud of dust. It took little encouragement from you to get TT moving, snorting wildly as he pushed as hard as he could, happy to finally stretch his muscles out. With a loud whoop that bounced off the rocks and trees, you quickly rode away, Arthur and Lenny becoming small specks on the horizon. Arms outstretched and your eyes closed, you took in the feeling of the wind finally being back in your hair, trusting TT to take you to where you needed to go. 

You hadn’t even realized you were crying, the sheer happiness you were feeling overwhelming you. Yes, you loved being at camp, and you loved the people there, but you were starting to feel trapped. You knew that being put on a “bedrest” was for your health and to allow you to fully recover, but it was exhausting. You were still an outlaw at heart, and you needed to roam. You couldn’t be tied down to a place for so long, and a part of you knew that’s why you and Arthur became friends in the first place: two wild hearts that needed space to ride free, the only bonds holding you being the ones you held for each other in your hearts, not where you called “home” or where you lay your head at night. 

Opening your eyes again, the world around you passed in a blur as TT ran, hooves barely hitting the ground. As you passed other riders, you heard them cry out, startled, but you paid them no mind. Right now, you were allowed to be as selfish as you wanted on the road. You were barely able to make out a signpost that showed that you were going in the right direction. 

Patting his neck, you urged your horse onward, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around him, just like the last time. However, instead of it being the ride between life and death, it was a ride of pure joy. Joy that you had survived and overcame so much. Joy that you finally confessed to Arthur the love you had for him, and that he felt the same, and you were now closer to him more than you ever thought possible. Joy that despite the honestly shitty cards you and the gang had been dealt, you were all still thriving, able to create bonds and relationships in spite of the hardships. 

Life, in all of its bullshit, was treating you well. You were going to enjoy it for as long as you could, and you were going to do everything in your power to bring Arthur the same joy you felt. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

You arrived at Emerald Ranch nearly fifteen minutes before the other two.

Letting your horse drink heavily from one of the many troughs available, you walked around the area, chatting with a few of the farmhands as you waited for Lenny and Arthur to arrive. You had even traded some items with the fence, Seamus, for a little extra cash, in the middle of stuffing it into your saddlebag when you heard them approach. 

“You already robbed the place?” Lenny joked as you remounted, falling back to your original position in the formation. You were surprised, however, when Arthur didn’t take the lead, instead motioning for Lenny to lead the way as he took his spot next to you.

“Y’all were taking too long,” you chuckled. “Nah, just selling a few trinkets I had.”

“Get a good amount for ‘em?”

“Nothin’ crazy. But money’s money.”

“Take what you can get, I guess,” Lenny shrugged, falling into silence as he continued forward.

“How was your ride?” Arthur asked, finally speaking since meeting you at the ranch, which you had now left. 

“Amazing. It was… needed. Thank you, Arthur.” You beamed brightly.

“Of course. Can’t blame you for wantin’ to do that.” You watched him glance towards Lenny to see if he was paying attention before leaning over, as well as he could, to whisper to you. “And, for the record, I love you too.”

“I guess if we’re saying things for the record,” Lenny didn’t even bother to turn around as he interjected, “then you should know that this one turned bright red once you left. Didn’t think I’d ever see a man like him that flustered, but here we are.”

“Aw,” you cooed, flicking the rim of Arthur’s hat down as he was still leaning close to you. “Did I embarrass you, Arthur?”

“Am I really gettin’ ganged up on by both of y’all?” Arthur sat back upright now, scoffing in disbelief when you and Lenny both nodded. “I see how it is, then. Well, I’ll just leave you two to it…” Arthur sighed, a slight grin peeking up at the corners of his mouth. 

“No,” you dragged the word out, nearly falling out of your saddle as you reached to grab his reins. “I’m sorry,” you laughed. 

“I ain’t,” Lenny countered. 

“Remind me why I keep you around, kid?”

“Well, it ain’t up to you if I stay or go. And I distinctly remember you asking me to go with you on this.”

“And I am startin’ to regret my decision.”

“You can always change your mind. Want me to go get John? Or Sean?”

“I pick you, cause unlike them, you don’t annoy me. Which is slowly startin’ to change.”

You had held on to Arthur’s reins during this entire exchange, you head moving back and forth as they spoke. “What has gotten into both of you?” You couldn’t help laughing in surprise. 

Finally, Lenny looked at you. “Sorry, miss. Just… tired.”

“Promise me you’ll get some sleep when we get back. Both of you,” you made sure to look at Arthur when you said this. “I’ll talk to Dutch, see if I can’t get a break for the two of you. There are sure as hell others who can do this type of work, if only for a day.”

“That ain’t necessary-” you cut Lenny off with a raised brow. “Alright. Thanks, miss.”

“Of course. And don’t think I forgot about what I told you, Arthur.”

“No I didn’t.” He responded unenthusiastically. 

Wonderful. Now,” you finally let go of Arthur’s horse, “let’s go rob these sons of bitches.”

It took about twenty minutes for your group to reach your target, pulling off the trail and into a thicket as the house came into view. Dismounting and then sending the horses away, you stayed crouched behind Arthur as the two men made their way to the house, keeping to the dense underbrush, remaining undetected by the guards you saw. 

Arthur held a hand up, and you came to a halt, and he pulled out binoculars and a pocket watch. Quickly surveying the area, he then handed the binoculars to the other man before checking the time. “Right. Here’s the plan. You see them guards over there?” Arthur pointed to two of the guards that patrolled one of the side entrances to the house. “They rotate out every hour, meanin’ theres about a two minute window where there’s no one. That’s when we move. Inside, from what we can tell, isn’t heavily guarded, but be cautious. There shouldn’t be any homeowners or servants or anything like that either.”

 Arthur now pointed at the house. “Once we’re inside, you can take the top floor. When you’re done, meet where we entered. Lenny will give us twenty minutes, then he’ll create a ruckus, giving us an opportunity to leave. We’ll meet up at Emerald Ranch, then head back.” He took a deep breath. “Make sense?”

“Yeah. How long until the next rotation?”

“It’s 10:53, so about seven minutes. I’ll give you a heads up.”

Nodding, you settled back on to your haunches, adjusting the equipment on your body as you waited. “Are you fine with what you’re doing, Lenny?”

“Yes, miss. Ain’t my first time doing it. Arthur can vouch for me.”

“He'll be fine.”

Content, you sat in silence for the next couple minutes, staring off into space until someone pulling your hand had you refocusing back on reality. Arthur’s face was now covered by his bandana, but his eyes crinkled as he pulled you along, and he motioned for you to affix your own bandana. Securing the fabric, you relinked your hand with his, keeping crouched as the two of you approached the house, being mindful of any branches or twigs that you might step on that would alert the guard.

Just like Arthur had said, when the top of the hour rolled around, the two guards stationed at the side left, turning their backs to you as they moved to their new spots. Glancing both ways, he bolted for the side once he deemed it clear, holding on tight to you. The door, thank goodness, was unlocked, and the two of you slipped inside, seemingly unnoticed.

The first part, and arguably the hardest, was done. Glancing around, you took the large bag that Arthur handed you as you both took in as much as you could. You were standing, wll, crouching in a large walled in  dining area; a large oak table stood in the center adorned with expensive china and silverware; a tall china cabinet stood in the corner, various baubles hiding within the shelves; a large staircase was directly at your right, which you started to make your way towards, stopping when Arthur grabbed your hand. 

“Promise me, that if you get caught, you’ll get the hell out. Run. Don’t look back.” He spoke low to not alert anyone, but it made it no less emphatic. His words were surprisingly familiar; the last time he spoke like that was right before you got kidnapped.

“And my answer is still the same: I can’t promise anything, but for you I will try.” It was all you could say before you went back to trying to climb the staircase, time being a limited resource. You had seen the fear in Arthur’s eyes, and you could feel your own worry for him as well. Things were different now, and there was more on the line this time. But you couldn’t afford any anxieties; you had a job to do.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

You had to commend yourself on a job well done, clearing the top floor quickly and efficiently. You bag was almost filled to the top, and you slung it over your shoulder, looking like some evil version of St. Nicholas. The house had no shortage of jewelry, gems, and other valuable items, and you doubted whoever owned them was going to be missing them for long. 

Shuffling slowly down the stairs so as to not make too much noise, and you sat on the bottom step as you waited for Arthur to finish, as you literally had no room to carry anything else. Making sure your bag was securely closed, you peeked through one of the windows that were parallel to the door you had entered. Two new guards stood watch, chatting with each other without a care in the world, not aware that two people were currently robbing the place of all its valuables. 

Arthur only took a few more minutes than you, bag equally as heavy as he plopped down next to you on the stairs. Pulling out the pocket watch, he read the time, before turning towards you to read. 

11:16. 

Sighing, you leaned back, the back of your head thumping against the hardwood flooring. You dared not speak, just in case, but you let your guard down slightly. There was no one in the house, just as Arthur had said. It seemed like this whole adventure was going to go off without a hitch, for once. 

Maybe you were too relaxed, because when you felt Arthur rest his hand on your thigh, you jumped out of your skin. It was hard to tell because of the mask, but you think he whispered an apology. As Arthur rubbed the muscles there, you felt yourself relaxing again, resting your head back and closing your eyes.

You weren’t expecting Arthur to slowly bring his touch further up your thigh, massaging as he went. Peeking at him, you found him already looking at you. He halted his exploration, raising his brow in silent questioning as he tested the waters. When you nodded, he didn’t continue, still giving you plenty of time to change your mind if you wanted. 

“Please,” you doubted he could even hear you, but he seemed to understand, continuing up your thigh at a slow pace. He shifted closer to you, the creak of the wood barely audible over your heartbeat hammering in your ears. Still holding eye contact with you, he continued his ascent, mere inches away from the junction of your thigh and hip. 

Instead of moving inward, however, you felt his touch disappear before reemerging on your other thigh, repeating the same process as he caressed you. You said nothing, only letting out small pleased sighs that were only audible to you. 

Finally reaching the apex of your thigh, his squeezing and massaging turned to featherlight touches, barely felt through the material of your pants. Running his fingers across your hips, he repeated the motion a few times, laughing when he heard you finally let out an audible noise, which was a frustrated huff. Like last time, he was so close to where you wanted him to touch you, but he remained so far. You knew that he wasn’t going to do anything here, in the middle of robbing a home of all things, but a part of you hoped that he would just throw all caution in the wind and take you right there.

As soon as the touches started, they left. Arthur leaned back, looking almost startled in a way, like he’d just been snapped out of a trance of sorts. “Shit… I’m sorry, I don’t mean to tease-”

Shouting from outside had his head snapping towards it, and you were immediately on your feet, peering outside the window with Arthur behind you. His proximity behind you wasn’t helping you calm down, but you forced it down. There would be time later to get him back for his teasing, but right now it was time to go. 

Lenny, back on his horse, had approached the house, standing far enough away to lead the guards away from the house. The two guards were only a few feet from Lenny now, and roughly twenty feet away from the house, giving you enough clearing to leave. They were engaged in a heated discussion, one of the guards training his gun on Lenny while the other did more of the talking. 

Both of you slung the bags over your shoulders, the metal items clunking as they were jostled around. Grabbing your hand, he led you out the front door, moving slowly to not create any too much noise. The argument with Lenny seemed to have the guards full attention, and loud enough to allow you guys to move faster. 

Before long, you were far enough away to safely whistle for your horse, who came running from a nearby bush. Both of you secured your bags to the horses, riding as far away from the house as you could and toward Emerald Ranch. Pulling the bandana off, the breeze did little to cool you down, the fire consuming you only able to be put out by one thing. The look in Arthur’s eyes as he rode away had you shifting in your saddle, but not because you were uncomfortable. You took off after him, and you took a steadying breath. 

It was going to be a long ride back.

[rychlostthespacewizard]

I've been collecting some random quotes I found around the internet and use in my dnd games

Here are some I found in no specific order:

1. "Speak, mortal. You have reached Tharvek, Devourer of Innocents and Wielder of Eternal Flames. It appears I have missed your pitiful attempt at contact. Leave your name, teleportation runes, preferred genre of torment, shoe size, allegiance, deepest fears, vulnerabilities, complete medical history, and where you summoned the gall to disturb me. I may choose to acknowledge your existence, but not by such mundane means. Thank you, and remember: tread carefully, for death lurks at every shadowed crossing."

2. "Are you aiming for greatness or avoiding disapointment"

3. "Si operarii omnes producunt, omnia operariis pertinent."

4. "what do you think it means to be saved"

5. "What happened?" - "Nothing that wasn't my fault"

6. "Something is different"

7. "I don't think so, but i do think that the growing control of those that have the power over the means of production is a threat to the autonomy of the people. As value that is created by the working force is not rewarded to them. Instead only guarantees enough for them to survive and work more. It's like slavery but with extra steps. So anyhow, how's your day going?"

8. "You know, that reminds me that sometimes, violence is the necessary. Sometimes the only path to redemption for the sins of ignorance is to face the fundamental truth of blood and fire. As they meet the primordial within their heartbeat, the oppressors might have a chance to understand the pain they caused and atone for their sins. Also have you seen the new play at the theater?"

9.  "You think we're equals? I had to battle struggles you've never imagined. I became this while fearing the night, disguising myself as a man just to travel safely. Our similarities end when you learned to fight your enemies, while I had to fight comrades who left me with scars that will never heal. I survived because I was cursed to live as I am among those I swore to protect, only to be seen as their enemy."

10. "The universe is and we are"

11. "We do not have much connection, you and I. Still this encounter feels special, I hope you do not mind if I think of you as a friend"

12. "This is your home. If you want to fight to defend it, that's your choice. I'd be honoured to stand alongside you. The enemy attacks tomorrow. He's brutal and fights only to kill, which is why he will never defeat us. Look around. In this circle, we're all equals. You're not fighting because someone's ordering you to, you're fighting for so much more than that. You fight for your homes. You fight for your family. You fight for your friends. You fight for the right to grow crops in peace. And if you fall, you fall fighting for the noblest of causes: fighting for your very right to survive! And when you're old and grey, you'll look back on this day, and you'll know you earned the right to live every day in between! So you fight! For your family! For your friends! For Ealdor!"

13. "I can't blame you for wanting to know yourself better, it was one of the biggest pleasures of my life"

14. "The pain of your absence is sharp and haunting, and I would five anything to not know it; anything but never knowing you at all I can only hope that you are safe, wherever you are"

15. "This song is new to me, but I am honored to be part of it"

16. "It's tempting to linger in this moment, but unless they are collapsed by an observer, they will never be more than that, only possibilities"

17. "Are you still here? I am unsure how to survive in a universe without you, I am unsure how to be me without you"

18. "Is the hardest part of this tragedy not knowing who we may have lost? or will the hardest part come later, when we learn?"

19. "I see someone making through, you just need to be sure it is you"

20. "You are no saint; you're just indifferent. You aid all without caring who they've wronged or what evil they've wrought. You place the wicked among those who shelter you. Even the gods' love is not unconditional, and neither should ours be."

21. As the hag's gaze pierces through the darkness, her voice resonates with an otherworldly chill. "You feel it, don't you? The knot tightening around your throat, the sharp claws of dread digging into your chest, the icy tendrils slithering down your spine? That's the sensation of being forsaken, of standing alone in the void, unnoticed by the gods. Even your soul quivers, knowing that no divine intervention will come to your aid. You're trapped in a blind spot, unseen by the greater powers." Her words hang heavy in the air, suffocating the very essence of hope. "And yet, you cling to your righteous desires, your noble quest to save your friends. But can you be certain that your gods will forgive such a pact with a creature like me? Your actions may be seen as a grievous offense, a betrayal of everything they hold dear. Will they not turn their backs on you? And this dread that gnaws at your spirit, it will not dissipate once you leave this place. It will cling to you like a curse, haunting your every step until the day you finally rest in your grave, a constant reminder of the darkness that lurks within your soul."

22. "In this life, we traverse like a canoe upon deep waters. Our passage ripples the surface briefly, yet the depths remain undisturbed. With time, the surface quiets once more, leaving no trace of our journey."

23. "You are a coward wearing the facade of a revolutionary."

24. "What is better - to be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?"

25. "I will face god and walk backwards into hell."

26. "The man who sleeps on the floor cannot fall out of bed."

27. "The man who sleeps with a machete is a fool every night but one."

28. "For every person who dreams up a butter knife, there is a person who dreams up a poisoned dagger."

29. "Only the dead have seen the end of war."

30. "Does the archer fear his bow? Or does he kiss each arrow goodbye as it marries the wind?"

31. "These feelings can eat away at you, chip away the parts of you that you once held dear and defined you. You remember a time where you felt more complete, had stronger relationships and felt more loved."

32. "To be tall is not a virtue, to be short is not a sin."

33. "Power comes in a response to a need, not desire. You have to create that need."

34. "You can't kill me in a way that matters."

35. "Do what you must, I have already won."

36. "Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. The silence is your answer."

37. "Darkness without light is an abyss. Light without darkness is blinding. You cannot have a coin with only one side."

38. "When they burned Ioun's Archive, the crowd revelled in horrible disbelief. They understood that there was something older than wisdom, and it was fire, and something truer than words, and it was ashes, and something more eternal than knowledge, and it was death."

39. "I can no longer be a liberator for people who refuse to see their chains."

40. "You could sooner divert a river from its corse than deny my nature."

41. "Violence for violence is the rule of beasts."

42. "The only universal langue is blood and flames, we all have spoken this language and felt the fear of words older than our desires."

43. "The fire of extravagance can never burn simplicity."

44. "A mind unprepared for freedom will shatter like glass when shown cosmos without restriction."

45. "I have been cursed by my hubris, and my work will never be finished."

46. "I would rather die standing than live kneeling."

47. "For even the most banal of deaths can be made tragic by a broken heart."

48. "To love someone is to turn around. To love someone is to look at them."

49. "There's no cheerful somebody waiting for you at that alter. There is no meaning your alphabet soup. There is a right to obey."

50. "The foulest insults you hurl with intent to wound will calmly settle at the earth beneath my feet, and the venom you spit will bring all the pain of a warm summer breeze. You are less than you can concieve, while I carry on, brmmming with joy distilled from detatchment."

51. "They killed the best of us, so they are stuck with the worst of us."

52. "There is no truer hatred than the way men love."

53. "Would you spit in the face of the god's designs by referring to a mountain as a hill?"

54. "If i lay one brick down at a time who are you to tell me I'm not building a house?"

55. "True love graced you with its presence and you turned its intimacy into a joke to be shared with the world."

56. "To enter is to be forgiven of the greatest sin, to leave is to repeat it. Would you dwell in this garden, or would you forsake it, for man deserveth not his paradise lost?"

57. "She was wild, crazy, ravenous and beautiful. But we simple mortal men who have lived know better than to chase things that are not meant to be caught nor tamed."

58. "I live outside of the gods' sight and by consequence outside of their love."

59. "This is war. War does not determine who is right, only who is left."

60. "I'm a man dying of thirst watching another man drown."

61. "You are naught but a nail dreaming itself a hammer."

62. "Each inch of our lands are littered with the ruins of empires that dared to dream of eternity and deemed themselves endless. "

63. "You walk upon bones of those who thought they could tame the wild, and yet dare to repeat their sins?"

[mediocreanomaly]

Vashwood x Reader Soulmate AU

Authors note: I eventually want to make this into an actual drabble but for now have the basics, that being said! I don’t know how the “your soulmate can feel your pain” au isn’t more popular in the Trigun fandom, think about all that untapped angst...

Other Parts Here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 3 (Alt. End)

•When Rem first tells Vash about soulmates he has stars in his eyes. There's something comforting about the idea that the universe has already hand picked the perfect person for you

•That is until Rem continues by telling Vash how people find their soulmates

• “Rem? How do you know when someone is your soulmate?” “Well...like this!” Rem pinches Vash and Vash pouts, “what’d you do that for!”

•That’s when he learns pain is transferred between soulmates. Luckily, injuries where not, but feeling a broken bone seemed just as bad as having one to Vash. In fact Vash thought the whole thing was kinda...mean. He didn’t want to cause someone pain! Which meant for a few days the idea plagued his mind

•Until Knives is...well Knives.

• “Nai? Do you worry about hurting your soulmate?” “What are you talking about?” “You know, do you feel bad that you might hurt your soulmate?” “Vash soulmates are a human thing, when have you ever heard of a plant having a soulmate? Stop thinking about stuff like that” “oh...”

•To be fair, Nai did think he was helping his brother by consoling his worries but ironically it just makes Vash feel worse. Despite the guilt he felt about potentially hurting his soulmate, knowing he just straight up doesn’t have one stings a bit

•After that Vash just kinda...forgets about it. I mean obviously he knows soulmates exist and every once in awhile he might get slightly bummed but he knows it’s for the best, especially after the fall. He’s got too much on his plate so the whole concept just stays on the back burner

•Then we jump forward a couple years (a century lmao) Vash does not think he has a soulmate, as such he’s just as careless with his body as our normal Vash is. He’s missing his arm (thanks Knives) he’s still covered in scars and he has no issue taking bullets for random bystanders because that’s who he is, and unlike the humans he doesn’t have a soulmate so who cares? (oh honey you got a big storm comin)

•Then it happens, Vash is just doing his thing when a blinding pain runs through him. It feels like his veins are on fire, like he’s being torn apart and put back together. He has to hunker down in a shitty motel for awhile because it feels so bad 

•Thing is Vash actually doesn’t put the pieces together for awhile. He’s gone this long without a soulmate so it doesn’t instantly click that he could be feeling someone elses pain, he just assumes everything he’s done on Gunsmoke the last century is finally catching up with him

•These pains keep coming back though, to the point where Vash eventually does go see Brad thinking this is either a “him neglecting his body” thing or a plant thing

•It’s neither. he’s a dumbass. Brad has to tell him it sounds like a soulmate thing considering he’s about as good in health as Vash can be. Vash argues the point for a little bit but the longer he thinks about it...

•Self lothing to the extreme. This man had purposely taken bullets, stabs, burns you name it to prevent others from getting hurt, but the whole time he’s been hurting someone?

•Here’s the thing though, obviously whoever he’s paired with has it rough too if the random blinding pains are anything to go by. Suddenly feeling like his body is being torn apart, feeling like he’s being pumped full of bullets, feeling like he’s being twisted like a rag doll, there's a weird sort of...comfort, in the fact that at least his soulmate is getting a bit of revenge on him, even if that’s not the intention 

•Then he meets Wolfwood. Now no matter what variation of their meeting you’re going with I don’t think it would take very long at all for them to realize their soulmates. I mean have you seen these two? Whether it’s Vash feeling Wolfwood get hit by a car, Wolfwood feeling Vash slam into a wall, or one of them getting shot, they’ll have a moment of “no fucking way” soon enough

•Wolfwood...is mad. Mostly because Vash in a way made his life hell. Do you know what it’s like to be eight years old and feeling like you have a bullet in your side? To feel like you’ve just fallen off a roof? It’s brutal.

•Vash profusely apologizes (and cries) explaining to Wolfwood his situation. Wolfwood, after cooling down and getting bombarded by Vash’s puppy dog eyes, relents. Besides it’s not like he didn’t get his fair share of punches in, what the Eye of Michael did to him wasn’t exactly fun

•The two of them become alot closer alot faster, I mean their soulmates how could they not? It’s comforting to the two of them. One, here’s the person they know 100% will always have their back, something neither of them have had in a long time. Second, they are the only two who understand each others pain...literally. Wolfwood has felt every time Vash has sacrificed himself before others, Vash has felt the childhood that was ripped away from Wolfwood, they know each other on a level no one else can.

•That is until a year later. The two of them are in a relationship now, and they both try to be more mindful of the other. For example, Vash dives in front of less gunfire and Wolfwood doesn’t just tank whatever's coming at him. Although, they both recognize they have high pain tolerances, so when push comes to shove...they still get their fair share of wounds. 

•One day they’re bickering at each other while setting up camp, nothing serious, it’s something stupid that they both don’t actually care about. Wolfwoods grumbling about something while he lays out sleeping bags and Vash remembers when Rem first taught him about soulmates and pinched his arm. With a shit eating grin...a plan forms

•Vash pinches his own arm. He’s a little shit when he wants to be and Wolfwood snaps his head up when he feels the sting on his arm and just like that...it’s on. Wolfwood reaches for his own arm and and pinches which...Vash returns with a another pinch

•They think it’s hilarious, the two of them pinching each other (themselves?) trading banter when suddenly...they feel a sharp pinch high on their arms, but...they’re looking at each other and neither of them did that.

•So they do it again as an experiment, this time they choose a specific spot on their arms so they know if they feel pain anywhere else, what they feel is real. They press down hard and again an annoyed pinch shoots through their shoulder.

•Now let’s get this straight, having more than one soulmate isn’t impossible, it’s just extremely rare. As for not realizing they had a third soulmate...well a normal person would have. You’ve gotten your fair share of injuries but you need to put it into context. When you wake up sore, when you stub your toe, when you jam your thumb in a door, the boys don’t really think anything of it. They wake up sore all the time, my foot hurts? probably from the recovering broken bone there. My face hurts? a bounty hunter pistol whipped me the other day of course it hurts.

•With this realization...Vash is in near hysterics. He turns to Wolfwood all teary eyed and rasp out “Nick...we’re torturing them”

•When it was the two of them they felt like they were even. Vash had his savior complex that ended with his scarred body, Nick had the Eye of Michael who rebuilt him, but you? Whoever you are you weren’t meant for this type of life. You who had been so carful to not get hurt that they hadn’t even known of you existence until right now

•The next few days will be a bit rough, they are both are pretty hard on themselves despite the fact it’s not really their fault. Vash will look like a kicked puppy replaying every time he’d gotten hurt in his head. Nick will retreat within himself, smoking alone a lot more and whatever he’s thinking about would be impossible to get out of him

•Once they realize self pity won’t help anyone they get themselves together and discuss how to handle the situation. It’s hard to find soulmates off of pain alone, it’s honestly a miracle that Vash and Wolfwood ended up finding each other

•But who knows? They travel a lot, their sure to bump into you eventually right?

•One thing is for sure, once they find you, once they meet you...they won’t let you go. In their eyes they’ve caused you a lifetime worth of pain already so once they get ahold of you it stands to reason that they’ll just have to give you enough pleasure to counter balance that...right?

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Shun the Light - Ch 15 - The Bunker

Slow Burn | Refuge | Decision | Mend | Hunger | Thin Mints | The Garden | Philip | Moments | Full Moon pt 1 | Full Moon pt 2 | Tend | Absolution | The Talk | Scars |

Author's Notes: Consider....vampirism and lycanthropy as disability? If you take a less fantastical and more naturalistic look, both are changes to the mind and body that make existing in a society difficult. Just something I've been thinking about.

Some more bonding, some #justvampirethings, some full moon dread. Thanks to everyone who has read this far. <3

Content Warnings: werewolf whumpee, vampire whumpee + caretaker, not much else just some angst, dread, mentions of blood

----

Sometimes, when he wakes at dusk, Dante forgets that he isn't alone in the house.

Dante learned early on that being mostly-dead is pretty hard on the body. Many of the systems that keep people alive also keep them comfortable, and so he has built habits to deal with the discomforts.

His throat is always parched, so he keeps a little cup of blood by the bed to get moving. His body is stiff from sleeping very still, so he does stretches.

And then there's thermoregulation, or the lack thereof. On cold days his skin becomes tingling, oversensitive, even numb, and in the summer he frequently suffers from heat exhaustion. Both make hunting difficult, so on mild days he stocks up on blood for his fridge, and he keeps his bedroom at a consistent temperature year round.

After his stretches he exits his bedroom wearing Philip's old silk robe and slippers, grabs a jar of blood from the fridge - calling it a 'cup of Joe' like Mr. Townsend used to - and settles into his chair for an evening gameshow.

That is usually when he remembers he has a guest, in the form of Matteo sprawled on the couch with the remote control already in his hand.

Tonight he is there as expected...but something is off. Matteo is sitting at one corner of the couch with his arms around himself, staring straight ahead. When Dante greets him he barely reacts.

"Matteo?"

"Mm."

"What's wrong?"

"Just a few days left."

As if to prove his point, the waxing moon peeks out from behind a cloud. Dante pulls the curtain shut.

"It never gets easier," Matteo says softly. "I get so anxious that I can barely eat or sleep, which only makes things worse..."

It's been hard to shake the memory of seeing Matteo's violent transformation, he can't imagine living it.

"I can make you do both of those things," Dante offers, realizing too late how creepy it sounds.

Matteo only smiles, though it doesn't reach his eyes. "Thanks."

"Do you want to see the shelter? Maybe that will help."

"Yeah, sure. Why not."

-

It's a bit like opening a time capsule. The bunker hasn't been touched since the 1960s, everything exactly the way Mr. Townsend left it the last time he went down to check expiration dates.

Against one wall is a shelf stacked with supplies, books, canned food and water, a radio and a box of ammunition. Cot-style beds line the other two walls, one a bunk bed and the other a single.

"Only three beds?"

Dante shrugs. "They didn't like me and dad that much. So, what do you think?"

Matteo steps inside and looks around. "We should probably remove anything that isn't attached...the wolf will just wreck it all anyway. You'll find me covered in canned peaches in the morning."

"Those probably need to go anyway. Okay, we can do that. What else?"

"I guess that's all." he still seems uncertain.

"Matteo..." Dante joins him in the small room. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"No, it's not that. This is a good idea. I can't hurt anyone here. It's this or chain me out back like a dog."

The resignation in Matteo's voice is all too familiar. In his early days of vampirism Dante had tried to find ways to still be part of the world, spending time in bars and 24-hour diners, taking long drives at night, he even tried taking a night shift in a stockroom. But eventually fear won - fear of sunlight, fear of discovery, fear of hurting someone or being hurt. It drove him into the shadows, and there he has remained.

"I had a dog once. He slept at the end of my bed."

The new information pulls Matteo from the brink of despair.

"Yeah? What was his name?"

"Porco. It means pig. It started as an insult when we found him as a stray. He would eat anything and everything. But I got attached to him and dad was bad at saying no if something made me happy. He always said joy was in short supply and we should stock up whenever we could."

Matteo smiles in this warm, endearing way that Dante finds impossible to look away from. Sometimes he tries to smile back but it's as if the muscles of his face have forgotten how.

They get to work moving everything out of the bunker until only the beds and shelves, which are fixed to the concrete walls, remain.

When they're finished it looks much more like what it really is - a prison. But Matteo seems less apprehensive. Maybe just knowing what to expect is enough.

"Dante?" he says as they ascend the stairs back toward rooms with windows and light.

"Yes?"

"Thank you. You didn't have to do any of this."

They reach the first floor hallway. Dante pushes the door shut with his foot and turns to look at him.

"You saved my life, remember?"

Matteo huffs. "I think you made up for that a while ago. This is...more than I have any right to ask for. If there's anything I can do..."

"I really don't mind. You're - "

...can he call him a friend? An acquaintance? Is this thing between them just a series of favors, an exchange of small kindnesses the world has not been so quick to give? A rescue for a rescue. A warm bed for some company. A sip of blood for relief from pain.

"...you're nice to have around," he finishes carefully. It seems a safe enough statement. Neither coming on too strong nor dismissing just how big a change Matteo has brought to his dull life, if only for a little while.

There is that smile again - and then Matteo's arms are around his neck in a tight hug.

"I like being around," he says quickly, shyly.

It's over too soon and Dante is left with the lingering warmth, watching Matteo disappear into the living room and wishing he'd had the nerve to hug back.

[im-a-writer-sometimes]

Thank You, Doctor (Miguel O’Hara - Part 3/4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: language, angst, me trying to skirt around the fact that miguel o’hara is a bit of fascist

🕷

Miguel found nothing more than a trail gone cold in your father’s last universe. He’d left his calling card—a smashed portal bracelet he’d engineered himself. Miguel wasn’t sure why he always built a new one before jumping. Perhaps he didn’t want someone to be able to trace his footsteps, as if anyone back at headquarters had managed to crack the tech.

He’d taken this mission by himself, still getting used to the stretch of his scars beneath his suit. He hadn’t expected to find your father—he never did. On the occasion that he showed up, it would be a base-wide affair. Your father had earned the nickname The Jumper because of how often he hopped from universe to universe, leaving chaos sown in his wake. Several spiders had their own universes nearly wrecked by his hand. Every spider on base would be more than happy to help if he was found, and Miguel would be more than happy to utilize them.

“Find anything, Lyla?”

He was poking through the Jumper’s apartment, coming up short on anything.

“From the radioactive traces he left behind, I’m guessing he was here a while ago, for no longer than a week.”

He nodded, taking one last sweep of the room. “Keep combing through universes for that trace,” he said.

“What do you take me for? An amateur?” she asked, before winking out. He swallowed a groan of annoyance before pressing his own bracelet, calling forth a portal and stepping through.

When he got back to headquarters, it was already well-past twilight, the base void of its usual noise. His feet carried him to the cafeteria of their own accord—or, perhaps, by the accord of his stomach. When he got there, he found a familiar insomniac curled up at a corner table with a reheated cheeseburger and a book.

You looked up at the sight of him, eyes going wide. He realized then that he still had his mask on, and he likely blended in with the thousands of other spider people you saw on a daily basis. He tugged off his mask as he stepped inside, and your shoulders slumped with relief. You smiled at him before turning back to your book.

His heart did a somersault at the realization that you felt comfortable, maybe even safe, around him, and he turned towards the vending machine before he had to start unpacking that. You didn’t need to bait him with a bag of cheetos this time; he sat down across from you of his own accord. You didn’t glance up from your book, and it was only then that he saw the slight tightness in your shoulders. Maybe not completely safe.

“Still contemplating your own existence?” he asked, and you smiled at her book.

“Just riding that wave of existential dread,” you said. “How did your mission go?”

You still didn’t look up, but he could hear the quickened beat of your heart, the way you held your breath as you waited for a response.

“Dead end,” he said, and you let out a breath. He couldn’t tell if you were relieved that your father hadn’t been caught, or simply grateful to get that part of the conversation out of the way. “You never met him?”

You shook your head.

“Sorry for freaking out earlier,” you said. “I just walked in, and Sam was glitching in and out, and I wasn’t sure what to do.” You finally lifted your eyes towards him, and he simply watched you. “What?”

“You two seem to get along well,” was all he said.

You lifted your eyebrows. “Me and Sam? Sure, yeah.”

“Sure, yeah?”

“What exactly are you asking?” you said, your eyes narrowing.

“Nothing, I'm just inquiring about your life.”

“You know he’s about twice my age, right?”

“Yes, is that—” He paused. “Do age gaps matter to you?”

You bit back a smirk, setting your book down on the table between you. “Was there a specific age gap you were curious about, Miguel?” you asked. 

“No,” he answered, a bit too quickly. You smiled. God, he hated that smile.

“You gonna eat that honey bun?” you asked, nodding down at the snack before him. He forgot he’d even gotten it. He ripped open the packaging and took a bite, glancing up to find you still smiling that stupid goddamn smile.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he said around a bite of honey bun, and your smile only widened.

“Ten years older,” you said, picking up your book again. “That’s my limit.”

“I didn’t ask,” he said. You hummed in response, sticking your nose back in your book. Silence settled between you two before he gruffly admitted, “This is nice.”

“The honey bun?” you asked.

“No,” he said. “Just—being with someone. Not having to talk.”

You glanced at him. “I agree. It’s a lot like what Sam and I have.” He slowed his chewing, and your smile widened. “Kidding,” you clarified, and he shook his head.

“¿Por qué te aguanto?⁴” he muttered, taking another bite.

“You better be saying nice things about me.”

“Always,” he replied, gazing your way as you yawned. “Perhaps you should get to bed.”

You shook your head. “One more chapter.”

He sat there, finishing his honey bun, standing up to get a bottle of water and sitting back down to finish it as you read. He didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep in the booth until his water was gone and he was standing to leave.

“Y/n,” he said, nudging you. Your head plopped onto your shoulder, but you didn’t stir. “Y/n, wake up.” Another nudge, still you slept. “Lo que sea,⁵” he muttered, before calling softly for Lyla. “Where is Y/l/n’s room?” he asked. “Don’t say it,” he tacked on after she smiled. She told him where you lived, and he waved her off. 

He grabbed your book first, noting the page number, tucking it under his arm before he scooped you up. The walk to your room was slow; he was sure not to jostle you as you slept. At some point, your face fell from his shoulder into the crook of his neck, and you softly muttered something delirious against his skin. He passed only one or two spider people as he trekked up to your room, and they all gave him a wide-eyed look of disbelief, before promptly turning away. When he got there, he laid you softly against your mattress, tugging your blankets over your slowly-breathing frame. He rummaged around until he found a sticky note, quickly tucking it inside the book on the page you were on before he quietly slipped out.

🕷

“Miguel and Y/n sitting in a tree—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” said Miguel, waving Lyla from off of the top of one of his screens. She dissipated and reappeared right beside him, smiling wide. 

“I’m happy to report that Y/n was significantly less talkative with Sam this morning,” said Lyla. “After your late night rendezvous.”

“It’s none of my business who she’s talkative or not talkative with,” he said, once again brushing her away. 

“Is it your business that your rival is currently approaching?” she asked, before disappearing.

“My rival? Lyla, what are you—”

The door quietly opened, and he turned, watching as Sam stepped through. 

“Cosa descarada,⁶” he mumbled as he swung down from his platform, landing in front of Sam. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I—uh—” Sam simply blinked at him, and Miguel raised his brows, crossing his arms over his chest. That only made the man falter more, crossing his own thin arms. “I was just coming to thank you.”

“To thank me,” Miguel repeated.

“Yes,” he said, his eyes glancing about the room as he spoke. “So, thank you.”

“Y/n—or, Dr. Y/l/n, is the one who helped you,” he said. “I just happened to have a wristband.”

“Of course,” said Sam. “So, thank you. For having the wristband.”

“Right,” said Miguel, narrowing his eyes as the man scanned the room, taking everything in. “Was there anything else?”

“Quite the impressive setup,” he said, stepping past Miguel. “Is this the base of operations?”

“You’re still a prisoner here, Dr. Eddard,” he said, making the man pause. “Don’t breach your welcome.”

He wasn’t sure where the sudden ire had come from, but he needed this man to know where he stood. Sam Eddard had appeared out of nowhere, far out of his universe, using weapons from his own to pull clunky, petty robberies as if he was itching to get caught. He wasn’t guiltless. He wasn’t Y/n. 

When Sam turned around, there was something sunken on his face, and Miguel felt bad—for a moment. Then the man was scurrying away, and Miguel was letting out a breath, and he could only try his best to stop thinking about Sam Eddard and the woman he worked alongside.

🕷

When he slipped into the cafeteria that night, he found you there as usual, but there was no smile to greet him. Instead, you slammed your book closed and sat up straight in your seat.

“Still a prisoner here?” you said, and his heart went still in his chest. 

“What?” he asked, still standing halfway across the room.

“Is that what you think of us?”

“Us?” he asked. “Who’s us?”

“You thought Sam wouldn’t tell me what you said?” you asked, and his heart fell as you closed the distance between you. “You forget him and I are the same.”

“No, you’re not,” he said, crossing his arms. “He was a criminal, Y/n. You weren’t.”

“But neither of us knew what was happening. Both of us deserved to stay exactly where we were, criminals or not, before we were taken hostage.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t have chosen to stay,” he countered.

“How am I supposed to know what I would have chosen?” you scoffed. “I wasn’t given a choice!”

“What would you have had me do? Allow your entire universe to collapse? For one person?”

“I don’t know!”

“I don’t know why you’re upset with me!”

“I’m upset, because I’m apparently still your prisoner!”

“¡No me estás escuchando!⁷” he said, running his hands over his face. “You’re not him. You’re not a prisoner.”

“Then what am I?” you asked, throwing up your hands. “What am I, Miguel?”

“You—” He gestured vaguely before him, trying and failing to find the words. You took a step away, shaking your head.

“You can make jokes, and share my table, and carry me to my room, and bookmark my goddamn book, but that doesn’t change the fact that you had me brought here and caged like an animal—”

“The multiverse—”

“The multiverse is made up of people, Miguel. It seems you’re so blinded by your mission that you may have forgotten that.”

He brought his hands to his hips, standing taller. “I thought you had made peace with all this.”

“I haven’t made peace with the fact that I even had to make peace, and I—I don’t know,” you said, laughing slightly. “I don’t even know. I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I don’t know you.” Then you crossed the room, grabbed your book, and started towards the door.

“Y/n,” said Miguel, jogging to catch up to you, wrapping a hand around your arm to stop you. 

“Am I not free to go?” you asked, and the venom in your tone had him dropping his hand and taking a step back.

“Y/n,” he repeated, softer this time. “You know it’s not all so simple.”

You shook your head, laughing again. “God, and to think I was sitting here giggling like a teenager at you and your stupid smile like I’m not just some easy catch already on the end of your line.”

“That’s not true!”

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here—”

“If it weren’t for me, your whole universe would be gone! If it weren’t for me, you’d be dead!”

You only smiled, shaking your head once again. “And what kind of gratitude do you expect?” 

He said your name again, but he didn’t dare follow you as you left.

🕷

Part 4

(4) “Why do I put up with you?”

(5) “Whatever”

(6) “Cheeky thing”

(7) “You’re not listening to me!”