#the way everything burns down around Tango

[cjskribblez]

It all feels a little too familiar, doesn't it?

[radioactive-mouse]

I get how tempting it is to just label flower husbands as “toxic” and move on, but god they can be SO much more nuanced than that, it makes me insane.

I think something that goes largely unexplored by the fanbase is c!scott’s obsession with composure. he’s clearly very proud of his ability to stay calm under pressure and be two steps ahead of everyone else— not that he’s afraid to rely on people, him and cleo very clearly have that unshakable trust between them, but i think that sometimes he gets so wrapped up in being steady, reliable scott, never hot-headed, never spiteful, or clumsy, or nervous.

and jimmy is a very real threat to that composure, more often than not.

and i think the way their relationship functions in 3rd life, while steady at the time, definitely set them up for complications down the road. scott, for as fiercely dedicated to his allies as he is, kind of tends to handle jimmy with kid gloves for the earlier parts of their relationship. he’s not very good at the death game, but that’s fine, he doesn’t need to be, scott will take care of it— he’ll get them set up with armor and potions and walls and jimmy can do… whatever it is he does when scott’s not around. mostly getting swindled, if he had to guess. but it’s fine, because scott can be steady, level headed, clever—

i do think most of scott’s ribbing about how he doesn’t know why he lets jimmy do anything when all he does is get scammed half the time is genuinely all in good fun, (jimmy is more than happy to play the fool most of the time, if only to bring a little bit of levity to things) it is super symptomatic of the way scott actually thinks about him. i don’t believe he thinks jimmy is actually stupid or anything, but i do think scott doesn’t quite trust him to get anything done. scott would never in a million years let himself lean on jimmy for any kind of support, because in scott’s mind jimmy’s job is to be bright and brash and only listen to that heart of his that’s too big for his body, too big for this game.

and i think too often we forget just how much losing jimmy destroyed scott in 3rd life. you ever think about how wrecked he must’ve been to place 10th despite being a consistent finalist in every other season? do you think about how all he has left is the burning, white-hot urge for revenge from the second jimmy’s body hit the ground?

i don’t think scott ever wants to feel like that again. i don’t think scott wants anyone to see him like that again. i think scott tries very hard to love jimmy from a safe distance where no one gets hurt. and i think that distance fucking kills jimmy, metaphorically speaking.

(also, tangentially related, i think there’s something to be said for how instantly tango goes “we only have a short time together, your curse will probably get us killed, and that’s fine.” and how jealous scott gets of that sentiment. as far as scott is concerned, tango and jimmy are of the same niche— they feel everything, loudly, even if it causes problems and even if it gets messy. and god that just makes his blood boil.)

i’m just so… entranced with the way scott carries himself with so much confidence and it’s not like he’s insecure, he really believes that, he’s a strong player and he knows that, but also revealing any emotion he deems to be “ugly” or “messy” makes him start to completely unravel. the driving force behind him is always love and loyalty and protectiveness over the people he cares about, but he’s juggling that with being dead set on never getting so close that losing them will completely ruin him.

anyway, this is getting away from me, but i think a lot of jimmy’s frustration with scott comes from the fact that he refuses to let their relationship go both ways, and i think by the time of the infamous “say i love you back” scene in limlife he’s just exhausted with throwing himself repeatedly against scott’s brick wall of perfectionism. that, and the whole Situation between them in double life, which i could honestly make it’s own post but good god i need to STOP typing or this will go on forever. forgive my completely disorganized ramblings i just have been trying to get all this down on paper FOREVER

[secretsandwriting]

Obsessed

Ethoslab x gn reader

Where Etho is sick and the reader is dragged in to take care of him

As per usual, I've attempted gn reader but I am used to writing fem so if I messed it up let me know and I'll fix it

(UNEDITED)

You weren’t sure why you were pinged by Gem to meet at Etho’s base as soon as possible, but there you were, landing a few steps away from Gem in front of Etho’s base. She turned around, clearly relieved to see you.

“Etho’s sick.” That wasn’t good but you weren’t sure why that required your immediate arrival, Gem seemed to catch on to your unsaid question. “He’s refusing to believe he’s sick and won’t let anyone help him. Tango said he’s way too warm to just brush it off, and since Etho listens to you a little better than the rest of us I asked you to come.”

“I don’t know if he will on this, especially if he wants to get back to his redstone.” You followed Gem into Etho’s base and found him arguing with Tango and Pearl, both trying to get him to lay back down while Etho tried to get past them to work on whatever he felt was calling his name. Which left only one method that would maybe work.

“Etho?” He whipped around and smiled through his mask at you. 

“Hey Y/n! Want to come look at my farms if Pearl and Tango would get out of the way?” You held up some papers. 

“Actually, I have some plans I’ve been testing for a farm but I’m not sure if I have the numbers right. Would you mind looking over them with me?” Etho paused and his gaze flickered between you and the papers.  

“Of course!” With that, your fate was sealed. Etho ushered you to the kitchen table and the papers were laid out and he started pouring over them, figuring it out in his head and mumbling it out. It didn’t take long to hear the effects of his fever. His rambling made no sense. Less sense than most of his redstone rambles. While he was talking, you gently placed your hand against his forehead. Etho froze before ever so slightly leaning against your hand. 

Tango was right, he was burning up. 

“Alright, that's enough. You need to get some rest, your fever is high.” Immediately Etho protested, “I’ll make you a deal. If you listen to what I tell you, I’ll take care of you. If you don’t, I’ll ask Doc too.” He weighed his choices. “Head to bed, I’ll be there in a minute with some things.” Etho jumped up and headed to his room, he was out cold when you went up three minutes later. 

You took that time to get everything you needed together and make some light food for when he woke up. Knowing full well a sick Etho would take advantage of any open second to get away and go back to work and once he started it could be almost impossible to pull him away. 

Etho was out until the next morning, and as predicted, he tried to escape out the window. Thankfully you had blocked all of them off so he couldn’t but he still tried. Begrudgingly, he accepted the tea and sipped on it slowly while he ate his soup. 

When you checked his forehead, he leaned into your touch more than he had the day before, he was also quite a bit warmer then he had been. Hoping you were wrong, you gently pushed his hair off his forehead and kissed it. It was worse, though you were pretty sure the sudden flush in his cheeks was not from the fever. 

Etho whined and complained when he was sentenced back to bed but immediately calmed down when you offered to read something to him. Settling down under a large pile of blankets he fell asleep to the fairy tale you were reading to him.

The next time he woke up, he was delirious and to make it worse, he kept trying to get up to go work on some redstone project. Nothing you tried would convince him to settle down and at least stay inside. 

“You wanna know what will keep me inside?”

“Yes Etho, I do!” Etho’s expression morphed into something you weren’t sure you wanted to know and he leaned a little closer to whisper to you.”

“A kiss, and not on the cheek, it has to be on the lips and you have to cuddle with me.” Oh boy, you had a feeling you knew how this was going to end.”

“I will give you a kiss on the lips and cuddle with you, if you listen to me and you can collect it when you're better and no longer contagious.” He pouted at the last part but seemed to accept it as he settled back down in bed and fell back asleep. 

Three days later, Etho was better and you left to go back to your base for the first time in 6 days. It was nice to finally shower in your own home, and it would be nice to finally get a full nights sleep again in your own bed.

What you didn’t expect was for someone to join you.

“It’s just me.” Etho. “I am here to collect my kiss and cuddles.” Of course Etho would remember that, why did you even agree to it i- Your thoughts were cut off by Etho pulling you closer to him.

“I’ve wanted to do this for years.” Etho whispered before closing the space between your lips. It was a short kiss, but damn was it good. You could feel the questions in the air, questions you weren’t sure if you knew how to answer. So you did the only thing you could think of that could possibly answer a few of them without having to find the words.

Placing your hand on his cheek, you pulled him back for another one. You could feel his smirk through your kiss and his arms tightened around your waist. 

“I didn’t know you were so obsessed with me.” He teased, before you could fire a response back he continued, a little more serious, “It’s ok though, I’m obsessed with you too.”

[gomu-fer]

Takes two to tango

Law x fem!reader

Warnings: SFW very feminine reader all dressed up using fem adjectives and such

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: In which Law meets you at a gala

Masterlist

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Fuck

Is all The Captain of the Heart Pirates can think of when he spots you form the other side of the gathering

Law had planned this strike for weeks. You were a really infamous informant amongst the pirates of the grand line, and he needed information that by no doubt you possessed. When he heard about your probable attendance to this stupid gala he knew this was his last chance for him to get closer to you and maybe, you’ll be benevolent enough to gift him the precious information he needed so desperately

But it wasn’t part of the plan for you to be so damn beautiful

As handsome and determined as he felt, The Surgeon of Death now finds himself a nervous wreck, butterflies going wild in his stomach and a tremble in his movements, his face coloring red and warmth irradiating from his cheeks. You had an enchanting aura that had him itching to be anywhere near you, get closer to admire your sparkling eyes adorned by a dark liner making your gaze sharp, your soft hair sitting in the frame of your face alike a porcelain doll; he’d pay any berry to hear your laugh, he bets its just delightful, mixing with the warm low lights of the place and your confident presence alongside the crowd that had long faded when he saw you. The dress hugged your figure in all the perfect ways, matching with your dark lipstick on your plump lips that made you look like an empress of the sea, you looked otherworldly, a dazzling starlet, absolutely stunning

He was running out of words to describe you as he admired you from afar

Law curses once again, his confidence leaving his body as he finds the will to just go and speak to you without stuttering or combusting

Suddenly you are on the move, walking towards the champagne table that was conveniently situated just besides Law’s. Before he stands up, he spots Penguin and Bepo making a thumbs up and smiling encouragingly some tables in front of his, he sighs and just goes for it, how hard could this be anyway?

Before he can even say hello, he hears a giggle scape your dark lips alongside a smirk

“Well, well, well if it isn’t Trafalgar Law” he freezes, breath hitching caught redhanded as you turn his way, gazes meeting and Law swears he has died and gone to haven when he gets your attention. You stay ogling each other as you sip on your drink, he seems to have forgotten how to talk or form any thought, remaining spell bound

You step closer and closer, stopping just when your mouth meets one of his ears “What do you want, Captain?”

A shiver runs up and down his spine electrifying his tall form, you take a step back and smirk at the flushed pirate, he clears his throat as he pulls his suit in place

“Didn’t knew I was being that obvious” you laugh and he can’t help the pride that swirls in his chest at the thought of him being the reason for your heavenly laugh echoing through the room

“Word says you’ve been looking for me… what’s got you so desperate?” In a sly move you hand him your drink before slipping away between the tables and the ton. He sets it down in a hurry, his feet move faster than his mind and suddenly he has you by your wrist pulling you closer to the dance floor, prying eyes and whisperings all around you

“Guess now we gon’ have to dance”

Everything blurred the moment you pulled Law closer to you and swayed around the rhythm of the piano and violins. Your expensive perfume, soft touches, the sound of your heels clicking and your jewelry tickling invaded his senses, he didn’t even knew how to dance but suddenly that didn’t mattered anymore. The doctor followed your steps all around the dance floor like a moth to a flame, his golden eyes burning trough you. When your face’s would be just too close you’d smile before pulling away in a spin, teasing the poor Captain

And he was eating it up

Time flew by as he got lost in the music and the excellent company, as you spin around yet again, in the corner of his eye he sees Bepo making confusing signs and moving his paws frantically to make him look. He comes back to himself and in a sudden brave move he presses your body againts his, hand on your waist firmly staring at your orbs hoping you’ll freeze, to his luck you do

For the first time in the night he can feel you tense against his touch, your eyes open wide but not opposing to the gesture

“I’m here on business” Law whispers but keeps his tone stern enough, swaying both of you out of the center of the room

“Too bad, would’ve love a drink with you Mr. Trafalgar” you look up to his now serious face making you pout, hesitant you sit at the nearest table sighing as he does the same

“You’re not easy to find”

“And I would like it to stay that way” you scan the room, taking note of the mink and the man with a hat glancing your way, silently planning on your fastest escape, locating the exits

Law extends you a bag with berry before he asks the information he had been looking for, and you oblige

To his surprise you didn’t seemed to want to hide or keep anything he may need to yourself, making the conversation way more easy to navigate. After you answer all of his questions and he’s about to get up the table, you grab his tattooed hand, depositing the berry bag on it and closing it back

“Keep it handsome - you wink.- consider this a favor” It had been long when you learned to never owe or trust a pirate, but you needed an excuse to see him again

If there was a god, Law would be in debt with them forever for making you so bold. Now he was graced with your hands on his and your longing gaze praying he’d catch up, and he did almost immediately, reading the want behind your touches and gazes and he can’t help but to smirk at the fact

Torturously slowl, he lowers his lips to grasp your ear mimicking your action from moments prior, loving the intoxicating sensation “Trust me I’d be keeping that favor sweetheart, thank you” and you let go

You part ways for the night but best believe, you would remain engrained on that mans mind until you see each other again and he prays is sooner than later

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Idk what possessed me I enjoyed it tho

[savviathan]

Gem pushes a couch into the lobby of Decked Out, directly in front of the door.

She sits down, soul lantern in hand, and coughs expectantly. She waits a moment. She coughs louder.

It feels like the stone around her sighs outwards with an edge of Tango’s rasp in its voice, and the door to Decked Out opens on its own accord.

“So, do you want to start, or should I?”

The stone constrict again beside her, tensing up like pursing its lips. It looks around, blue light burning brighter on the snow layers, then in the egg hunt room, and then settles again down by the stairs. The pistons beneath the floor hiss, and Gem feels something like the cold burn of ice touching skin.

“Then I will start.” She smiles, holding her head up high.

Somewhere, the stone cracks. Her lantern flickers frantically, flames dancing around and almost dying. Gem only shakes her head.

“I’m not very happy with you, you know.” She starts, putting her free hand on her hip. “But I’m going to be cordial. For your sake. This is a therapy session.”

Decked Out’s doors whine.

“One of many if you keep this up.”

Everything seems to still. Then, Decked Out slowly, painfully, releases the pressure in the room. Suddenly, a card is pulled from the deck:

STUMBLE

Gem laughs, hard.

As much of a hard ass Decked Out can be, it still holds Tango’s breath, and his eyes, and his heart, and his sense of humor. It still carries its creator’s vision. That sort of thing is easy to forget sometimes, between all of the ‘killing you’ thing. Speaking of that. Gem settles further into the couch.

“So. As you know, I’ve been running a lot recently. I’m on a quest to get good.” She pointedly ignores Decked Out’s snickering in Tango’s voice. “And I would like to run deeper, but I just can’t seem to find any keys. What gives? Why are you so angry with me?”

At that, Gem gets a startlingly bigger reaction than she had anticipated. It feels like there’s someone sitting on her chest, and the walls close in, and then back out, and the lanterns flicker, and the shop shuffles its contents, and, and—

“Okay, hang on!” She yells, and Decked Out freezes. Literally; she can see her breath coming out in puffs, now. “Well, that’s a lot to unpack.”

Decked Out begins again slowly, reshuffling the shop contents back to where they used to be. Cards pop up and down, and a shard reappears, and Tango’s weird dungeon lackey hood stays just where it is in the corner.

“Is it tango?” She asks tentatively. Decked out laughs back at her incredulously with Tango’s voice.

“Is it me?” And beyond the opened doors, decked out whistles. “What did I do?”

Decked out quiets.

“Nothing. Okay, I’m not following.”

Decked out’s doors groan. It seems to fiddle with the latches quietly, thinking, gears and redstone turning in its head, then clicks rapidly. The doors shut in Gem’s face.

“Hey, just because it’s hard to explain yourself in a language that—“

“Take your items or I’ll feed them to the ravagers.” It interrupts her, loudly, and the lanterns flicker by the stairs. The freezing temperatures leave the room.

“Oh.” Gem says, standing up and following it around the corner. Though, she supposes, following is probably the wrong word. It’s more like, lets it guide her to where it wants her to be. Or something. She’s not a master with communication of card games, she’s good with staggering textures in the walls, and driving a sword into Etho’s chest.

Decked Out clicks the redstone beneath her feet. She stops. It’s led her out to the front of the Deepfrost Citadel, next to Scar’s impromptu line, in the middle of the night and the freezing chill. She stares up at the imposing walls and spikes.

“What exactly am I looking for here, buddy.”

The wind whistles around her. Decked out is utterly silent, out here, unable to talk and seek in a way that matters. It knows this. Down below, mobs walk around in the snow, zombies, skeletons, Gem recalls when hoards of phantoms swooped in from the tops of the towers and attacked the few that were talking outside. It would be nice if someone could take care of that, really, and spawn proofed the area. But Tango couldn’t do that all on his own, could he?

Oh. Wait.

Gem stares back down at the spot Decked Out has taken her to, to the outsides where it cannot touch, where other creatures brush past its domain, unwanted. Gem thinks of treasure drops around the dungeon, and finding no keys, and Etho’s chuckles as he makes sure to compliment her before he runs. She thinks of getting past the gauntlet seven times over, and the comments about her appointed title, Geminislay, that tango gave her, and Decked Out has surely known.

Inside, Decked Out’s flames brighten, welcoming her back inside but never past level one.

“You don’t want me to have keys because you want me out here, don’t you?”

And the air around her, whistles, sings. The lantern she’s still holding, the one she’d brought for the therapy session, dances around in the air as it whips past. Gem sighs.

“Come with me.”

She steps inside, and feels the flames brighten as she passes, and the stone press outwards as to give her more room, and the room goes cold again as she makes it to the top of the stairs. She sits back down on the couch in the lobby, closes her eyes, and releases a breath.

“It’s my turn again.” She begins, and Decked Out is quiet.

“I recognize your feelings. I understand what you mean. I want you to know that, firstly.” She pauses for a moment. “But I am not Tango. I am not a fool.”

Decked Out laughs, again, boisterous and knowing.

“But I know that if I want to play, this relationship must go two ways, healthily. And I definitely want to play.” Decked Out hums at that, a droning sound, but it does not move. Just thinks.

“So I will protect you, where you cannot. I will be your gargoyle.” She giggles.

The citadel is a castle, after all.

“But I would like some keys. And I would like them fairly, nothing extra.” She pauses. “And also, it would be really funny if you messed with Impulse. Make him get a little tilted.”

The flames brighten. The walls seem to thrum with excitement, and a smile.

“So we’ve come to an agreement?” Gem stands and sticks her hand out.

Decked Out rushes cold hair to her fingertips. Gem smiles brightly.

“Then Geminislay joins the dungeon!”

Decked Out’s door nearly breaks itself trying to fly open.

And somewhere deep below, in Decked Out’s redstone guts, the dungeon master shakes his head fondly.

…

[Author’s Note:] I want to also give huge credit to @slashmagpie, whose amazing idea it was that Gem was the gargoyle of Decked Out. He also let me borrow this silly concept of a fic idea from him and write it. Thanks magpie!!

[aquaquadrant]

from eden, part IX (act I)

Word count: 11,504 Warnings: Blood/injury, violence, death, animal death, temporary dismemberment, dissociation, self-deprecating thoughts (not really, Jimmy’s just a listener and doesn’t know it), strong language, fictional racism/xenophobia, panic attacks Summary: The Double Lifers have successfully thwarted the invasion by Hels Tek, but not unscathed. Now that Tango’s been outed as Bravo’s doppelgänger, the remaining threads are starting to unravel, and Jimmy suddenly finds himself fighting to save Tango from his own inner demons. Can their love survive the fallout?

A/N: This took a ridiculously long time to write and got way longer than I’d originally intended so uhhh happy belated holidays? There’s a lot in this one that I’m excited to show y’all so I really hope u enjoy it, pls reblog/comment if u do, it means a lot.

Also this chapter has been split into two parts bc Tumblr is a hoe with a paragraph limit, link to the second half at the end. And as always, this is part of a series, so the previous chapters can be found on my au directory here. - Aqua

~*~

from eden, part IX (act I) - no tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony

~*~

Somewhere in Double Life, a player kneels in a bloody wheat field.

Jimmy’s senses are flooded with iron. He’s regenerated enough health that his nose isn’t actively bleeding anymore, but he’s sure it’s still all over his face. As he finally pulls away from Tango, he realizes he’s smeared plenty of it on Tango’s shoulder. The blood on Tango’s chin and claws hasn’t fully dried yet, either. And through his slightly parted mouth, Jimmy can see it’s stained his teeth.

(Did you see what he did back there?)

(He was like an animal.)

(How long do you think he’s been keeping that in?)

Jimmy pushes the thoughts away. Focus on the here and now.

To be fair, though, the ‘here and now’ is a horrible place. The ranch is burning behind them. His eyes are burning from the tears and the smoke in the air. His throat feels tight and scratchy. He’s physically and emotionally exhausted, the weight of it dragging him down, sinking into the trampled soil beneath him. The singed edges of his wings are still stinging, but it’s an easily forgotten pain among everything else.

Jimmy hates crying. Especially in public. Really, nothing makes him feel more useless and pathetic than crying. But he has to admit, he’s at least a little calmer and more clear-headed. Now that he’s cried himself out, his awareness is gradually returning to the conversation going on around him.

“What in’a world was that about?!” Bdubs cries out, sounding absolutely flabbergasted.

“Yeah, who were those guys, anyway?” Etho asks, knitting his brows together. “How’d they get here?”

Joel makes a distressed noise. “They shouldn’t be able to open a portal here, this is a private world!”

“I know, I know, okay,” Grian gripes, “I’m workin’ on it. Hang on-”

“And what was all that nonsense about doggelpangers?” Scar pauses. “Uh, dop- doppabang-”

“Doppelgängers?” Cleo calls over wryly.

Scar hangs his head. “Dang it. Yes, that.”

“I dunno, but what if they come back?” Joel asks nervously. “What should we do?”

Isn’t that the question?

Jimmy takes quick stock of his surroundings. Grian is standing a little way’s off from Jimmy’s huddle, head bent down as he furiously scrolls through his communicator, the screen reflecting in his tinted glasses. Scar is hovering next to Grian, peering keenly over his shoulder, his bow held limply at his side. Both of them look a little roughed up from the battle, but alright for the time being.

Etho, still crouched at the spot where Bravo died, is searching through the dropped items. Joel is pacing in front of the broken portal frame and casting anxious glances at it, one hand gripping his sword while the other rakes through his hair, antennae twitching with agitation. There are a few scrapes and gashes between them- mostly superficial and likely to heal on their own.

Pearl’s wolf pack has been considerably thinned out- something Jimmy notes with a pang of guilt- but there’s still plenty of them milling about the place. With blood-matted fur and tucked tails, it’s clear they took a beating. Pearl herself must’ve gone, from the way they sniff and look around aimlessly, giving plaintive yips and whines. Scott is conspicuously absent as well, another hint as to the bonded pair’s fate. Jimmy’s sure they’ll be along soon.

Bigb and Ren are also nowhere to be seen- likely more casualties of the battle. Ren makes for a rather large target when in wolf mode; he probably drew a lot of enemy fire. And of course, Bigb would’ve gone with him. Box is quite a way from the ranch, Jimmy recalls, so it’ll take them a few minutes to get back.

Martyn is busy mining up the rest of the portal frame, seeming none the worse for wear. Cleo sits a couple yards away, one leg stretched out in front of her. The other one has been chopped clean off at the knee, and is clenched in their hand- but wait, it does that sometimes, Jimmy reminds himself before he can panic. The detached limb isn’t even bleeding, and she’s already pulling some string from her inventory to stitch it back on, seeming more inconvenienced than anything else.

Bdubs, across the field, looks no more beat-up than he always does. He’s fussing over his horse, snatching up stray bits of wheat to heal as it struggles to get its legs under it. Impulse’s horse, devoid of rider, has wandered off towards the barn- perhaps hearing the other horses inside. Impulse himself is crouched beside Jimmy and Tango, his golden eyes intently studying the collar that’s been locked around Tango’s neck.

Tango is still completely silent. He doesn’t move or give any indication that he’s at all mentally present, just kneeling idly in the dirt, expression blank, eyes distant. Nothing but static through their soul bond. He doesn’t seem to be seriously injured- most of the blood stains aren’t his. That realization isn’t as relieving as Jimmy wants it to be.

Grian clears his throat. “Right. First thing’s first, are we all still here?” he asks, scanning his communicator. “No one went through the portal?”

“Nah, all good,” Martyn calls over his shoulder as the final obsidian block pops onto the ground.

Etho has his communicator pulled up too. “Yeah, uh, just looks like Scott and Pearl got killed,” he reports. “Ren and Bigb, too. I’ll shoot ‘em a message, see if they’re alright.”

“Right, okay.” Grian chews his lip, wings ruffling. “And all the other fellas are gone?”

Etho nods. “Yep.”

“Okay-”

“G,” Scar cuts in, tugging on Grian’s sleeve, “you gotta respawn before that injury sets in.”

Grian shrugs him off. Only now does Jimmy realize he’s holding one of his wings closer to his body than the others, the one that took an arrow during the fight. “Gimme a second-”

”Um, guys?” Martyn says suddenly, pointing at the ranch. “Fire tick is on, yeah?”

Grian looks up at that, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Hoo boy. Yeah, we need’ta get a ditch around the ranch, okay, or else the whole forest’ll go.” He casts a sidelong look at Jimmy, expression apologetic. “Tim, do you mind…?”

Jimmy shakes his head. “No,” he says hoarsely, “no, no, by all means. Whatever you need to… oh gosh, it’s all gonna go. It’s gone, isn’t it? It’s-” His voice breaks, and he quickly looks away, fresh tears welling in his eyes.

It wasn’t much, the ranch.

Only two floors- three counting the basement- and a bit tight on space. It wasn’t the most impressive build, not by a long shot. Certainly not when compared to the other builds on this world. It was something that would’ve taken two actually competent builders nothing more than a dedicated afternoon to put together. Plainly decorated, and comprised mostly of wood and stone variants. Nothing that’s particularly hard to obtain. And in all honesty, it was just a starter base; they were going to outgrow it sooner or later, anyways.

But it was theirs. 

It was the scorch marks in the wood from Tango’s blaze rods, in the moments where his emotions got away from him. It was the rocking chair where Jimmy liked to do his embroidery, when he needed to unwind after a busy day. It was the auto-sorting storage room that Tango spent weeks fine-tuning. It was the small but cozy living room that Jimmy decorated with potted flowers. It was the kitchen that always smelled faintly of charcoal, and the wool rug in the foyer that came from their own sheep, and the bedroom that they shared with an east-facing window to let them watch the sunrise together, on the rare days when Tango was awake early enough to see it.

The ranch is burning, and there’s nothing Jimmy can do about it.

(Great. Gonna start crying again, are you?)

(What exactly is that going to accomplish?)

(Man up! Don’t be so pathetic.)

A gentle hand on Jimmy’s shoulder makes him look up. Martyn is there, sympathy glimmering in his eye. “We’ll save what we can,” he promises.

Jimmy manages a grateful smile, blinking away his tears. “Thanks.”

Martyn nods before straightening back up. “Etho, Joel, you got water buckets on ya?”

“Oh, yeah.” Etho puts his communicator away as he and Joel start toward the ranch, buckets in hand. “Yeah, here, let’s make an infinite source..”

“Right. I’ll get the ditch started, then,” Cleo chimes in, rising to their feet now that both legs are once again intact.

Grian makes an appreciative noise, still tapping away at his communicator. “Okay, so that’s done-”

“Grian,” Scar says again, more insistently. “You gotta-”

“Hang on!” Grian huffs. He looks up to meet Jimmy’s gaze. “Okay, so uh, I can’t ban them… but what I’m gonna do is lock the world down,” he explains, taking a few steps over. “No one goes in or out… not even through a backdoor portal. This is just a temporary solution, but it should do the trick for now.”

Relief washes over Jimmy. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

(Good thing Grian is here to clean up your mess, huh?)

“Hey, guys?” Impulse speaks up, making Jimmy startle. “Um, Tango… he’s not lookin’ so good.”

That’s putting it kindly. Jimmy’s heart tightens. “Right. We should prob’ly get him inside, um…” He trails off as he instinctively looks at the ranch, which is on fire.

Right.

Impulse gives him a comforting look. “C’mon, you guys can crash at our place.” He rises to his feet, calling out, “Bdubs, would you bring the horses over?”

“Yeah, gimme a sec,” Bdubs shouts back. He’s finally gotten his horse standing again, glancing around for Impulse’s. “C’mere, stupid- hey! No, don’t wander off…”

“You finished, Grian?” Scar asks impatiently, notching an arrow.

“Okay, okay, hang on…” Grian presses a couple more buttons before putting his communicator away. “There, it’s done. Now, I’m gonna do some diggin’ and see what I can find out about this. But, um…” His gaze sweeps over Tango, expression pinched. “As soon as Tango is up for it… we all need to have a serious chat, okay?”

The wording immediately puts Jimmy off. He can feel his feathers bristling, his wings flaring out almost unconsciously to block Tango from view. “Wh- hey, this wasn’t his fault!” he protests.

Grian holds his hands up. “Ey, I know, I know,” he says lightly. His lower wings sweep out and flatten into a sort of fan as he crouches; an appeasing gesture. “None of us think that, okay? But clearly those guys came here for him, so we need’ta figure out why and how if we’re gonna figure out how to stop it from happenin’ again. Alright?”

Jimmy takes a breath, letting his feathers smooth over again. “Right. You’re right, sorry,” he mumbles.

(Wow, so defensive.)

(Like you could protect him, anyways.)

(Have you no faith in your own friends?)

Grian glances at Impulse. “You got them, Impulse?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” Impulse assures him.

Scar draws back his bow. “Any day now, Grian…”

“Okay.” Grian turns around with an exasperated sigh. “Alright, Scar-”

He disappears in a puff of respawn smoke. Scar immediately follows him, his bow clattering to the ground amidst the shower of other items.

Impulse exhales in what might’ve been a laugh, if he didn’t sound so tired. He turns to Jimmy. “Can you stand?” he asks, holding out his hand.

(Look, they all think you’re weak, too!)

Jimmy feels himself flush. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, his tone short. Ignoring Impulse’s hand, he struggles to his feet unaided, wings flapping about to help keep his balance.

And then he feels incredibly silly about it. These are his friends, for goodness sakes.

“Thanks,” Jimmy adds, to soften it. “But Tango, I dunno if he… I mean, normally I’d carry him, but right now, I think- I think I’d drop him,” he confesses. Already, the effort of just standing on his own is starting to fatigue him.

Impulse just nods, a knowing look in his eye. “Yeah, no problem.” Slowly, he crouches down next to Tango again. “Hey, Tango, buddy?” he calls softly. “Can you hear me? It’s Impulse. I’m gonna pick you up now, if that’s okay?”

Tango doesn’t respond. Carefully, Impulse gathers Tango into his arms in a cradle hold- which Tango doesn’t react to besides curling in on himself a little more. His breathing quickens for a few seconds before he settles down again.

“Sorry,” Impulse whispers.

Jimmy swallows. He’s never known Tango to be so quiet, so still. It’s incredibly disturbing to see. And gosh, he knows Tango’s pale, but right now he looks about as white as quartz.

The events of this afternoon were a lot for anyone to handle. Jimmy’s still only working with bits and pieces, of course. He knows that Tango originally came from a terrible world called Hels, escaped from that creepy scientist guy Dr. Atlas, and has been hiding out on Hermitcraft ever since. So it’s not surprising that Tango got a nasty shock when his past suddenly came knocking at his door- literally, in Bravo’s case.

But Jimmy also knows that Tango is quite tough. He’s not the type to shut down in the face of hardship- in fact, he’ll often go the opposite direction, with manic bursts of frantic energy. So for a reaction this extreme… either that collar they put on him is having a more drastic effect than Jimmy realized, or there’s something more to the story he isn’t aware of.

Before the collar dampened their soul bond, the fear Jimmy felt from Tango had been damn near overwhelming. What could those Hels players have done to him to elicit such a strong reaction? Jimmy dreads to think of it.

The sound of hoofbeats pulls Jimmy out of his musings.

“Here I am!” Bdubs announces loudly, leading a horse by each hand. “Got the hawsies all ready t’go- oh, hey, waugh- what happened to him?” he gasps, his horrified gaze falling on Tango, wide eyes going even wider. “Wha’ th- is he okay?!”

Impulse gives him a tired smile. “Bdubs, I know we’re outside right now, but indoor voice, please? I’ll explain later.”

“Oh, okay!” Bdubs immediately drops into a stage whisper, ducking his head sheepishly. “Right, right, right, right, right, sorry.” He eyes Tango nervously for another moment. “Jeeze, they really… okay, okay, okay, right. Let’s go.”

With an appreciative look, Impulse moves beside one of the horses. Shifting his hold on Tango, he hikes one foot up into the stirrup and swings onto the horse’s back, forked tail lashing through the air.

Bdubs follows suit, climbing onto his own horse before glancing down at Jimmy. “Uh- you wanna ride wi’ me, Jimmy?” he asks, still whispering.

“That’d be great, thanks,” Jimmy says gratefully. Just the thought of walking or flying to their base makes him feel like all his bones have turned to slime.

His own attempt to get on the horse doesn’t go anywhere near as smoothly. With someone else already in the saddle, it’s a clumsy maneuver, his flailing wings more of a hindrance than anything. In the end, Bdubs grabs the back of Jimmy’s shirt and helps haul him up. That only makes Jimmy feel worse. Bdubs is so much smaller than him, how did he manage that?

“Okay…” Bdubs glances over his shoulder as Jimmy gets settled. “You alright back there?”

“Yep, yep, I’m good,” Jimmy says quickly. He clears his throat. “Can we- can we get goin’?” He’s anxious to leave this depressing scene behind and get Tango someplace calmer.

Bdubs nods. “Okay. Uh- hang on tight, and you’d better keep those wings folded or else you- you’ll be blown right off’a this thing!” He turns to Impulse. “We go now!”

“Alright, let’s go.” Impulse urges his horse forward, and Bdubs swiftly follows.

The horses gallop away from the ranch.

Jimmy does as he’s told, leaning forward to put his arms around Bdubs’s shoulders and tucking his wings tightly against his back. The jostling of the horse’s stride isn’t kind to his aching muscles and bones, but he’s not about to complain. Right now he feels completely out of sorts- like a stranger in his own skin.

As exhausted as his body is, his mind is absolutely racing. He can’t stop thinking about what Bravo said, that Tango was to blame for his being in Hels. And Tango hadn’t really denied it.

From what Jimmy can recall from today’s chaotic events, Tango used to be in Hels, and then a portal appeared. He went through it to Hermitcraft, and somehow, that got Bravo sent to Hels. That seems to be the conclusion they’ve come to. And Tango didn’t know about it at first, but he’s known about it for a couple years at this point, and said nothing.

(How selfish of him.)

But it wasn’t Tango’s fault! He didn’t intentionally send Bravo there, and he only kept his knowledge secret because he was afraid he’d get sent back himself if he revealed the truth. That’s… really upsetting. If Tango didn’t trust the Hermits enough to tell them, after spending nearly a decade getting to know them, it’s no wonder he didn’t tell Jimmy.

Has Tango spent this whole time feeling like a fugitive in his own home?

And what is Hels, really? What kind of world doesn’t allow portal travel in and out? The way they’d spoken about it, it almost seemed like a prison. But created by who? And why?

What exactly is a Hels player? What does a ‘doppelgänger’ entail, exactly? Because if Tango is supposed to be an evil version of Bravo, Jimmy is clearly missing something, ‘cause he doesn’t buy that for a second.

Do all players have a Hels counterpart? Does Jimmy? Oh, now there’s a disturbing thought. Is there another Jimmy running around in a prison world somewhere, locked away from the rest of the universe?

Now that he’s aware of the possibility, he isn’t sure this is something he can just forget about.

But he knows his questions will have to wait. Tango is hardly in the condition to be discussing any of this- getting him recovered from his shock is Jimmy’s first priority. He’s about to ask how far away they are when two figures appear in the distance.

It’s Scott and Pearl, on the way back from their respawns. Pearl is preoccupied, intensely scanning her communicator as she walks. But Scott spots them immediately, nudging Pearl with his elbow and lifting a hand to wave them over.

Impulse glances over his shoulder at Bdubs and Jimmy. “Guess we’d better go see what they want,” he says as he steers his horse towards the pair, Bdubs following suit.

Pearl looks up at their approach. Her respawn must’ve taken care of any injuries she sustained from the battle, because she seems like her usual red-eyed self. But there’s an unmistakable air of anxiety about her- one that Scott seems to share, based on his terse expression.

“Impulse!” Pearl shouts, as soon as she’s within proximity hearing range. “You seen Tilly ‘round?”

Impulse eases his horse to a stop. “Oh, uh- she’s the one with the dyed collar, right?” he asks, knitting his brows together. “Yeah, yeah I’m pretty sure she was back at the wheat field.” 

Pearl exhales heavily. “Oh, thank goodness. I- I lost so many dogs, I wasn’t sure…” She puts her communicator away, looking them up and down. “So uh, is everyone alright? Are… you guys alright?” she asks uncertainly, quirking a brow.

“We’re fine,” Impulse assures her easily. He jerks his head back in the direction they came from. “The others are dealing with the ranch right now, it’s uh… it’s a pretty big fire, I’m sure they’d appreciate some help.”

Pearl follows his gaze, eyes widening at the plume of smoke still visible above the trees. “Oh gosh, yeah, we’d better get goin’, then.”

“You alright, Timmy?” Scott speaks up suddenly. 

“Huh?” Jimmy startles at being addressed. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Mmm.” Scott doesn’t look convinced, his sharp eyes studying Jimmy’s face before flicking over to Tango. “Is Tango alright? Where’d tha’ thing on his neck come from?”

Jimmy’s heart jolts. “Um…” He isn’t sure how much he should be sharing with the others, while Tango’s incapacitated like this.

Luckily for him, Impulse cuts in. “Don’t worry,” he says gently, “we’ve got it covered. You guys go check in with the others, okay?”

It’s not a very subtle hint, but Scott allows it. “Alriiiight,” he drawls, holding his hands up. “Just remember you’ve got help if y’want it.”

“I appreciate it,” Impulse hums, but Jimmy catches the flash of relief in his eyes as he turns his horse away.

“Yeah, ‘preciate ya!” Bdubs echoes as they ride off.

They ride in silence for a few moments, until they’re out of proximity range, before Impulse clears his throat. “I just think Tango would appreciate some privacy right now,” he explains quietly. “You know everyone else- they’d all want to help and see if he’s okay, but a big group would probably freak him out.”

“Ah.” Jimmy nods. “Good thinkin’.”

(Gee, Impulse is really taking charge, huh?)

(You’re basically useless.)

(He would’ve been a way better soulmate for Tango than you.)

The thoughts make Jimmy flinch. He hasn’t often felt insecure in his relationship with Tango, despite having known him for a much shorter time than the Hermits. But right now, his general lack of knowledge and experience in how best to help Tango has become glaringly obvious.

Thankfully, before he can spend any more time feeling sorry for himself, Impulse and Bdubs’s house finally comes into view.

They’ve added another floor since Jimmy was last here. Floor-to-ceiling windows made of light gray panes curl around one side of the building, continuing with the sleek mid-century modern design. The front yard has received some landscaping as well; a wide, circular path that frames a small cluster of custom trees and shrubbery before leading to the dark oak door, framed by neat flower beds on either side.

As they come up on the house, Impulse and Bdubs turn their horses along a branch of path that veers off from the main circle, taking them towards a small structure built against the house’s side. Made only out of diorite wall posts and a flat, deepslate tiled roof, it creates sort of an overhang, divided into two compartments with warped stem fence posts. Its purpose quickly becomes obvious as Bdubs hops off his horse and pulls a lead from his inventory, leashing his horse to one of the posts.

Jimmy swings his leg around to slide off the horse, dropping onto the ground with an ungraceful grunt. In the stall beside them, Impulse has carefully dismounted from his own steed, still cradling Tango in his arms.

The longer Jimmy looks, the more his chest aches with longing. So he looks away.

“Alright, let’s get inside.” Impulse’s voice is soft. He turns back towards the front of the house. “This way.”

Bdubs finishes hitching the other horse to its post. “Right behind ya!” he chirps. He pats Jimmy on the arm as he passes- an encouraging, or perhaps comforting, gesture.

Either way, Jimmy appreciates it. He knows Bdubs tends to diffuse tense situations with humor, or by maintaining an energetic demeanor. It might be mistaken as inconsiderate, in some situations, but he seems to know where the line is. Genuinely, Jimmy thinks he’d feel worse if Bdubs was suddenly walking on eggshells around him.

Pity is a suitor that won’t take a hint, no matter how many times Jimmy turns it away.

He follows Impulse and Bdubs around the front of the house. Bdubs has already scrambled ahead to open the door for Impulse, whose arms are, of course, full of Tango. He ushers Jimmy in after them with a wide sweep of his arm.

They’ve moved their bedroom upstairs at some point, it seems. The main floor is now a dedicated living space with a modest kitchen in the back, overlooked by a loft from the second floor. An L-shaped lounge made of quartz stairs is built into the conversation pit occupying the center of the room, surrounding a small fireplace. The glass panes encasing it go all the way up to the ceiling, but the sight of fire makes Jimmy flinch anyways- which he immediately kicks himself for.

(Jeeze, man, get a grip! What if Tango saw that?)

If Impulse and Bdubs noticed, they don’t comment on it. Impulse silently leads the way up a spiral quartz slab staircase, which opens up into the loft. Bdubs’s interior work is clearly showing here, with cozy seating nestled beside a custom bookshelf-console unit. Straight ahead past the loft is a short hallway with a couple doors on either side.

Impulse stops at the first one on the right. “We got a spare room here,” he says, nodding his head at the door.

“Not finished yet!” Bdubs adds hastily, though still making an effort to keep his voice low. “Or uh, heugh- furnished. I’m gonna- I was gonna do the interior, I swear.”

Somehow, the fact that Bdubs is concerned Jimmy will judge his lackluster interior decoration- despite everything else going on right now- makes Jimmy crack a smile. “Well, beggars can’t be choosers, ey?” he jokes.

“Oh, very freaking funny!” Bdubs huffs, but he’s grinning, too. He opens the door for them, and Jimmy lets Impulse carry Tango inside before following.

The room is, as expected, fairly bare bones. Quartz walls and a dark oak floor carry over the mid-century modern theme from the exterior, but there’s no furniture other than a double-wide cyan bed against the wall. A couple of haphazardly-placed torches on the walls provide the room’s only lighting.

“No windows yet, either,” Bdubs mutters, clicking his tongue as his critical gaze sweeps over the room. “I need ta- I- I still gotta figure out how to place ‘em, with the exterior wall and stuff.”

“It’s alright,” Jimmy assures him. Windows would make him feel a bit too exposed right now, if he’s being honest.

Impulse carefully sets Tango down on the bed. “Okay, Tango, here we are.” He straightens up, running a hand through his hair as he exhales heavily.

Bdubs crosses quickly-but-quietly over to Impulse, wrapping him in a hug. “You okay, sweetie?” he asks softly.

Impulse smiles down at him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Don’t worry.”

“Okay.” Bdubs goes up on his toes to kiss Impulse’s cheek- and even so, he barely makes it. “I’m gonna go check on our boys, then, and see if the others need help with th- with the uh, the ranch. D’you- is there anything you want me to tell ‘em?”

“Yeah,” Impulse says thoughtfully, “maybe just let them know that we’d like to give Tango and Jimmy some privacy right now? We’ll let them know if we need anything, and we’ll chat more once everything’s calmed down.”

“Right, okay.” Bdubs glances at Jimmy. “That- is that good? For you?”

Jimmy is taken aback by the amount of consideration he’s being given. “Oh yeah, that’d be great, thanks.”

“Alright.” Bdubs casts one final look at Tango, trying but failing to hide his worry from those big eyes of his. “Alright, I- I’ll be back in a little.” 

He slips out the door, leaving them alone.

Before an awkward silence can descend, Impulse clears his throat. “So uh, looks like someone got you pretty good,” he says, gesturing to his face.

“Huh?” Confused, Jimmy brings a hand to his face- only to jerk away as his fingers brush against his nose. Now that he’s actually paying attention, there’s a dull ache of pain radiating down the bridge of his nose, and underneath the still-sticky blood, he can feel a prominent bump where there wasn’t one before.

“Oh, right,” he murmurs. “Forgot about that.”

“Yeah, looks broken,” Impulse says sympathetically. “Need a respawn?”

Jimmy pauses. It’s difficult to tell when an injury will result in lasting damage- no one’s really cracked that particular scientific riddle yet. But generally, it’s understood that the sooner the respawn, the better the outcome. That’s why things like creeper explosions hardly ever leave a mark, since the death is usually instant.

More so, superficial wounds tend to be less likely to scar than deeper, more structural wounds. A simple gash will almost always go away after respawning- if it hasn’t already healed on its own- but things like broken bones can linger in the form of scars, joint deformities, and chronic pain. If he’s being smart, he really should get a quick respawn in, just to be sure.

But they’re on the Double Life world, and right now, his life isn’t just his own.

Jimmy looks Tango over. None of his wounds are serious enough to warrant a respawn, he only got a little scuffed up in the initial attack. In his current state, it’d probably do more harm than good.

“No,” Jimmy decides, “I… I can’t do that to him, not right now. He’s disoriented as it is.” He shrugs a shoulder. “Besides, I think it’s just the cartilage. Either it’ll heal on my next respawn, or it won’t, and it’ll just match the rest of my face.”

Impulse doesn’t laugh at the self-deprecating joke, simply offering a sad smile. “Alright. I’ll see if Martyn can bring some healing potions by once they finish up at the ranch, I’m pretty sure he’s got a brewing set-up.”

Jimmy’s throat tightens. “Right, thanks…” He smoothes a hand over the bed’s cover, setting his spawn anyways, before he eases himself onto the mattress. “Tango…?” he ventures. “Are you alright? Can you hear me?”

Tango has yet to move at all from where Impulse deposited him, back against the wall with his knees tucked to his chest, arms limp at his sides. He doesn’t acknowledge Jimmy at all- which isn’t anything malicious on his part, of course, but god does it hurt.

Taking a deep breath, Jimmy tries again. “Hey, Tango? It’s me, it’s Jimmy.” He puts a gentle hand on Tango’s shoulder, watching him all the while for any sign that he’ll startle or panic. “It’s over, you’re safe now. Are- are you hurt anywhere? Do you need anythin’?”

Still nothing. Somewhere behind Jimmy, Impulse makes a noncommittal noise. “Jimmy, buddy, I don’t think that’s gonna work right now…”

Jimmy ignores him. “Please, Tango,” he pleads, feeling his eyes sting, “can you just…” Idly, he lifts his other hand to wipe some of the blood off Tango’s chin. “Can you look at me?”

Unexpectedly, that gets Tango’s attention. He lifts his face almost robotically to look at Jimmy, eyes and expression still devastatingly blank.

The sudden movement startles Jimmy, his hand jerking back. And as it does, Tango lets his head drop back down.

An image flashes in Jimmy’s mind; Atlas, the doctor with the blood red gloves, grabbing Tango by the chin and tilting his head up.

(Oh, that’s messed up.)

(You’ve really done it, now.)

(Brilliant, just brilliant.)

Jimmy’s stomach turns. He scrambles back, away from Tango, his heart starting to pound. “Sorry,” he whispers, even though Tango gives no indication that he’s hearing it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

A hand lands on his shoulder, making him jump. Impulse gives him an understanding look. “I… think he just needs some time to come out of it,” he says quietly. “Y’know, alone. When he shuts down like this, there’s really nothing to do but wait.”

Jimmy finds his voice again. “Wait, you’ve seen it before?” he asks, creasing his brows together.

Impulse winces. “A couple times, yeah.”

“Oh.” Jimmy swallows, glancing back at Tango. “I dunno, I- I don’t wanna just leave him like this…”

“We can stay right outside,” Impulse says reassuringly, folding his arms. “It’s just… when he gets like this, I’m not sure he’s fully processing what’s going on. It’s like a defense mechanism. So he’s not gonna come out of it until he feels safe, and um… well…”

It’s not hard to catch his meaning. Jimmy bristles. “What, are you- are you sayin’ he doesn’t feel safe with me?” he snaps, which is so unfair because Impulse has been so helpful and so kind and he’s actually sort of right, but Jimmy can’t help it.

Impulse holds his gaze. “Not if he doesn’t recognize you.”

That sobers Jimmy a little, his wings sagging. “Oh. Oh, yeah, good point. You’re right.” Ducking his head, he swings his legs off the side of the bed and rises to his feet. “I guess he’ll be okay in here,” he relents. “But um, can we- would you mind if we put out the lights? It’s just…”

“Tango feels safer in the dark,” Impulse finishes, realization dawning in his eyes. “Good call.”

“Yeah.” Jimmy fidgets with his hands as Impulse collects the torches.

(Wow, he really knows Tango, huh?)

(Thank god someone knows what to do.)

(What exactly are you even here for?)

With the room now sufficiently darkened, Impulse holds the door open for Jimmy. Jimmy gives Tango a final look-over, his blank face now lit by the dim glow of his dampened blaze rods.

“We’ll be right outside if you need us, Tango,” Jimmy says in parting.

Tango remains silent as Impulse closes the door behind them.

As soon as they’re back in the hallway, all of Jimmy’s fatigue seems to hit him at once. He sways where he stands, shoulder bumping against the wall- the dull pain is easily ignored in favor of the black spots dancing across his vision. He squeezes his eyes shut, biting back a groan.

Fortunately, Impulse is there to steady him. “Woah, easy there.” He quickly guides Jimmy over to the loft to sit down. “Just breathe, okay?”

Jimmy takes a few slow, deep breaths- in through the nose, out through the mouth. When he opens his eyes again, the room is no longer spinning around him, so that’s a plus.

“Here,” Impulse presses something into Jimmy’s hand, “you must’ve worked up some hunger.”

It’s a golden carrot. “Thanks,” Jimmy murmurs, immediately starting to nibble on it. He probably does have food on him, somewhere in his inventory- cooked steak, most likely- but the extra saturation helps.

Seemingly satisfied that Jimmy isn’t going to pass out, Impulse sits down in the chair next to him. “How you feelin’?”

“Better, thanks,” Jimmy murmurs, shifting to fold his wings a bit more comfortably. He feels awkward and just… so out of place here. And Impulse is a nice guy, sure, but it’s a little embarrassing to have to be taken care of like a child. If it weren’t for Tango’s sake, he probably wouldn’t have accepted Impulse’s offer of help in the first place.

“Good.” Impulse looks him up and down, brows pinching together. “Jeeze, they really did a number on you. I’m sorry we weren’t there sooner, chat was chaos and we thought they’d be at spawn ‘til we saw your SOS.”

That comforts Jimmy a little. At least he managed to do something right. “It’s alright, not your fault,” he assures Impulse. “I mean, if you guys hadn’t come when you did…”

“Yeah.” Impulse nods solemnly. “That, uh… would’ve been pretty bad.”

Jimmy studies Impulse for a moment. Now that they have a second, there’s a question that’s been nagging at him. “So…” he starts, “how much did you hear, of what Bravo said?”

“Eh, bits and pieces.” Impulse shrugs. “Something about Tango being an evil doppelgänger from Hels.”

He says it so casually, like he’s talking about the weather. Jimmy’s stomach cinches. “Impulse…” he says carefully. “Did you… did you know?”

“What?” Impulse looks at him in surprise. “Oh, that Tango was from Hels? No. No, I never knew anything about before he came to Hermitcraft. But you know, I always kinda knew there was something… not great in his past. I mean, there were signs. I just figured he’d come from an anarchy server or something.” He knits his brows together. “I guess you… never saw what he was like, when he was still new, huh?”

Jimmy frowns. “Wha’d’you mean?”

Impulse makes a noncommittal noise. “It’s not my place to get into all that. But let’s just say… he’s come a long way since then. So um, looking back, it kinda makes sense.”

“So then…” Jimmy hesitates. “D’you believe what Bravo was saying? About what Hels are like?”

Impulse actually laughs- though not unkindly. “Oh, no, not by a long shot,” he assures Jimmy. “Don’t worry about that. I mean, there are players who think non-humans are bad, right? Like, there are still public servers out there that’ll ban Cleo soon as she joins, just for being a zombie.” He shrugs a shoulder, his forked tail idly flicking through the air. “Or me, for being a demon.”

“Oh.” Jimmy blinks, feeling stupid. “Right. It’s… so easy to forget, sometimes, that some folks still feel that way.”

Impulse tilts his head. “Well, not when you have to live it,” he says lightly.

“Oh. Oh!” Jimmy smacks his forehead. “No, no, right, of course,” he adds hastily, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it’s easy for you specifically to forget. Just, in general, I guess. ‘Cause most players don’t have that problem with avians- I mean, sometimes they think some of our traits are weird, sure, but uh- but it’s not the same thing, cause we aren’t hostile mob hybrids. Obviously. And- and none of my friends feel that way, either, so I just…” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I’m not makin’ a lotta sense.”

Impulse gives him a gracious smile. “It’s okay, I know what you mean.” He leans back in his chair, his eyes thoughtful. “I’ve gotten so used to Hermitcraft, sometimes it catches me by surprise when I travel to public servers and people act scared, or… distrustful of me. And that’s without even seeing me in ‘full demon’ mode. So uh, even though I don’t know anything about this Hels world, I don’t believe that just being from there would automatically make someone evil. I know Tango better than that.”

Jimmy’s throat tightens. “Right…”

Now it’s Impulse’s turn to give him a sideways look. “... you don’t believe what Bravo said, do you?” he asks, voice low.

“What?” Jimmy blanches. Despite himself, he feels his wings puff up with indignation. “Gosh no, no, that’s- not in a million years, mate, it’s utter nonsense!”

“Alright, alright, sorry,” Impulse chuckles, holding his hands up. “I didn’t think you would. But you know, I just had to make sure.”

“Yeah.” Jimmy sighs, letting his feathers smooth down again. “You’re a good friend, Impulse,” he says, glancing away. “Seems like you know what to do, here. He’s gonna need that.”

“He’s gonna need you.” 

That makes Jimmy look up. “What?” 

Impulse’s expression softens. “I’ve known Tango a while, now, and even though there’s been plenty of fun and good times over the years… this is the first time I’ve seen him truly content. Like, he just seems at peace in a way I’ve never seen before. You do more for him than you’ll ever know- probably ‘cause he’s too scared to tell you.” There’s a knowing glint in his golden eyes. “Emotional vulnerability, uh, isn’t exactly his strong suit.”

A bittersweet smile tugs at Jimmy’s mouth. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

Impulse claps him on the shoulder. “We’re gonna figure it out, okay? You guys aren’t alone in this.”

Warmth blooms in Jimmy’s chest. “Thank you, Impulse,” he says softly, “I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Impulse returns his smile before sitting back in his chair. “Now, how about you get some rest?”

Jimmy’s heart jolts. “Wh- no, wait,” he protests, “I’m not gonna leave-”

“You can stay right here!” Impulse assures him easily. “Just close your eyes and rest a bit. I’ll keep an eye out, and wake you up as soon as Tango comes to, okay? But right now, frankly, you look exhausted. And I’m sure you’ll wanna be well-rested for whenever Tango’s ready to talk about stuff.”

“Ah…” Chewing his lip, Jimmy glances over at the door to the spare room- mere steps away.

Since he forewent a respawn, he has to admit some shut-eye would be quite welcome at the moment. The immediate danger has passed. And right now, there’s nothing he can do to help Tango but give him some time. Might as well spend that time resting.

“I… suppose you’re right,” he relents finally. “But you gotta promise you’ll wake me if anythin’ happens, alright?”

Impulse nods. “I promise.”

“Right, then.” Jimmy settles into his chair, folding his arms across his chest. He fights back a yawn. “Thanks again. I- I mean it though… any little thing…”

“I know, I know.” Impulse waves him off. “Don’t worry.”

“Famous last words,” Jimmy quips, closing his eyes.

Impulse huffs a laugh but says nothing else.

Silence settles over the room, filled only by Impulse’s steady breathing and the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of him typing away on his communicator. He’s probably updating the others on the situation, so Jimmy can rest easy. He’s considerate like that.

Jimmy would’ve thought it’d be hard to fall asleep. This chair isn’t exactly built for it, and as lovely as Impulse and Bdubs’s home is, it’s not the ranch.

The loss is still fresh. He already knows it’s gonna hit him even harder in the coming days. But for right now, the post-adrenaline exhaustion is finally sinking in, and before he knows it, he’s drifted off into the inky blackness.

~*~

A gentle hand on Jimmy’s shoulder startles him awake.

“Jimmy,” Impulse whispers, his golden eyes glowing in the darkness, “wake up.”

It must’ve been quite a deep, dreamless sleep, because while it seems to Jimmy that he only just closed his eyes, he can clearly see through the window that it’s been at least several hours. The sun has long since set; a half moon is rising in the night sky. That’s alright with Jimmy- he was afraid he’d have nightmares.

Rubbing his eyes, Jimmy squints at Impulse. “What’s goin’ on? Everythin’ okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Impulse scratches the back of his head. “I uh, I just heard a thud in Tango’s room so I went to check on him and- he’s fine, don’t worry!” he adds quickly, as Jimmy bolts upright. “He’s fine, he’s up, but he still seems kinda disoriented? Like, he’s conscious, but when I tried to go in… I guess I look a bit too intimidating,” he taps one of the curved horns poking out from his hair, “‘cause he growled at me.”

“Growled?” Jimmy repeats, raising his eyebrows.

(Well, that’s promising.)

(Round two!)

(Here we go…)

“Yeah.” Impulse gives a sad smile. “So um, I think you should go try and talk to him, if you’re up for it.”

“Oh.” Jimmy blinks. “Oh, right, of course.” He rises to his feet, shaking off residual soreness from his awkward sleeping position.

Impulse pulls a lantern from his inventory and holds it out to Jimmy. “Give a shout if you need anything.”

Jimmy takes the lantern. “Right, thanks.” Steeling himself, he creeps over to the spare room, knocking lightly on the door- which is slightly ajar. “Tango…?” he calls softly, poking his head into the room. “You okay?”

The bed is empty, covers strewn in disarray. Tango is crouched in the corner farthest from the door, his back pressed against the wall. Hunched over and breathing hard, he stares at Jimmy, his blood-stained face lit by the faint glow of his blaze rods. His pupils are dilated again, lips curled back to show his teeth. There’s no recognition in his expression at all.

(You cannot sleep, there are monsters nearby.)

Jimmy swallows. His heart starts to pound. “Tango,” he starts tentatively, holding the lantern up so his face is clearly illuminated as he steps forward, “it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Tango makes a blaze noise deep in his throat; a haunting, hollow sort of growl. It’s unmistakably a warning.

Jimmy hesitates, wings shuffling uncertainly. How to get through to him? General reassurances don’t seem to be working. He needs to remind Tango of where he is, to convince him that he’s safe- in a way that only Jimmy would know.

He takes a breath. “Hey, rancher.”

Tango falls silent. Surprise flickers across his features, mouth parting, gaze sharpening. For a moment he just stares, motionless. Then he squints.

“... Jimmy?”

Oh, Jimmy could cry. “Yes, there we go!” he says encouragingly. “It’s me, it’s Jimmy. You okay, Tango?”

Tango’s breath hitches. He takes a single, careful step forward- then he halfs runs, half stumbles towards Jimmy.

Jimmy rushes to meet him, catching Tango before he falls. “Oh jeeze, okay…” Setting the lantern down on the bed, he lowers them to the floor, shifting so he can wrap Tango in his arms. “It’s alright, it’s alright…”

“Jimmy, thank god.” Tango clings to him just as tightly, face buried in Jimmy’s shirt. His claws dig into Jimmy’s skin just shy of being painful. “I- I woke up,” he gasps, “and the quartz- I thought I was…” He pulls away enough to scan Jimmy’s face, eyes wide and frightened. “Where are we? What- how long has it been?”

Jimmy knits his brows together. “Uh- we’re at Impulse and Bdubs’s place, and it’s been… several hours, I think? Half a day?”

“God.” A shudder runs through Tango. “That- that really happened, didn’t it?” He starts to breathe faster, his voice straining into that faint upper pitch that Jimmy’s come to associate with panic. “Oh god, I- I- I don’t- hhh, I c- can’t…”

“Hey, hey, breathe,” Jimmy soothes, rubbing circles on Tango’s back. “I’m here, you’re safe. It’s over. Just breathe.”

They stay like that for a while, Tango curled against Jimmy as he rides out the worst of it. He shakes violently, eyes squeezed shut, breath hitching as he tries to get control of it again. Jimmy’s heart aches for him- he wishes there was something more he could do to help.

But he knows from experience that just being here is enough.

It’s not terribly infrequent for Tango to have nightmares. Sometimes he simply startles awake at night, apologizes for waking Jimmy up, and goes back to sleep. If Jimmy asks about it the next morning, he brushes it off as nothing; just silly nonsense nightmares, the kind that are terrifying at the time but seem utterly ridiculous in the light of day. Nothing more than that.

And all this time, Jimmy believed him.

(What a fool.)

Jimmy’s only ever seen a couple nightmares cause a reaction as severe as this. The shaking, the shortness of breath, the panic. What helped in the past was simply holding Tango- offering a few reassurances, but mostly silent comfort. And of course, Tango never wanted to talk about those nightmares, and Jimmy didn’t want to push too hard. He’d figured that Tango would talk to him about it when he was ready.

(Fool me once, shame on you…)

Gradually, Tango calms down. His tremors cease, and his breathing starts to grow deeper. He’s still holding onto Jimmy, but it’s less desperate, now. More familiar. Jimmy curls his wings around them, as if providing another barrier, another layer of security.

After Tango’s been still and quiet for a few moments, Jimmy softly breaks the silence. “How much d’you remember?”

Tango takes a shaky breath. “All of it,” he whispers. “E- everything, I was- it was like I- I was watching everything happen to someone else, like I was outside my body…” He looks up to meet Jimmy’s gaze, eyes brimming with tears. “Jimmy, I- I’m so sorry.”

“What?” Jimmy frowns. “Tango, what on earth are you apologizing for?”

Abruptly, Tango pulls away. “I burned you,” he grits out.

“No, you-” Jimmy almost grabs him by the arm, but then thinks better of it. “That wasn’t your fault.”

Tango stares at him incredulously. “Wha’ th- what do you mean? Of course it was!” He rakes his claws through his hair. “I- I lost control, I set the ranch on fire, and you got burned.”

“That’s not the same thing,” Jimmy argues. “You didn’t do it on purpose, you were just defending yourself.”

“Doesn’t matter!” Tango throws his hands up. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten burned, true or false?”

(True!)

(He’s got a point…)

(Why are you arguing this?)

Jimmy doesn’t answer. “Look,” he says instead, “honestly, it’s not a big deal. I’m fine!”

“Well, you don’t look fine!” Tango says bluntly. Distress flashes across his face as he looks Jimmy up and down. “Your poor wings- and oh, your face! What, did- we didn’t respawn?”

Jimmy ducks his head. “I didn’t wanna put you through that,” he explains, wincing.

He can actually see the guilt in Tango’s eyes intensify. “Ohhh no,” he breathes, dismayed. “You- why did you…” Shaking his head, he fixes Jimmy with a firm look. “Okay, you- you need to respawn, now.”

“It’s not important,” Jimmy replies, just as stubbornly. He holds a hand out, beseeching. “Tango, please, I- I’ve been worried outta my mind about you. So much happened- ”

“I’m fine,” Tango says shortly.

“No, you’re not,” Jimmy insists, working hard not to raise his voice. “I mean, honestly, I- I don’t even know what that thing ‘round your neck is doin’!”

Tango shuts his mouth with a sharp click and glances away. 

That sobers Jimmy instantly. Tentatively, he scooches a bit closer to Tango. His eyes trace the collar- it’s so deceptively simple, so innocuous at first glance. Just a ring of smooth, flat iron. But clearly, there’s a lot more going on; a single red light above the keyhole hints at a mechanism hidden within.

“Do you… know what it is?” Jimmy ventures, giving Tango a searching look.

Tango’s jaw tightens. “It’s wither rose.”

Jimmy blinks, taken aback. “What? But… we aren’t withering, we aren’t takin’ damage-”

“It’s not…” Tango makes a noncommittal noise, waving a hand in an aborted gesture. “They’ve modified it, somehow, I dunno. It- it’s not the full effect. All it’s doin’ is dampening my fire.”

“And our soulbond,” Jimmy realizes, his stomach sinking. “After he put it on you, I- I couldn’t feel your emotions anymore. It’s just… numb.”

Tango’s face is grim. “That’s what wither rose does,” he says lowly.

The certainty in his voice is… somewhat concerning. Sure, any player who’s been ‘round the block will have learned what it feels like to be withered, at some point or another. But due to the tedious and somewhat risky nature of obtaining the roses by way of a wither farm, most players don’t regularly encounter them. And as far as aesthetics are concerned, they aren’t the most appealing flower, so when they are farmed, they’re mostly used for mass-producing black dye or as the killing method in a mob farm. Not as decor or landscaping, where a player might actually touch the rose and be subjected to the wither effect.

Personally, Jimmy can’t remember the last time he touched a wither rose, as a player who doesn’t make a habit of farming withers or even taking on the boss fight. But the tone of Tango’s voice right now is the tone of someone who is horribly familiar with the sensation.

“Tango…?” Jimmy prompts quietly. “Is there… somethin’ I should know?”

Tango swallows. He’s avoiding Jimmy’s eyes. “I… I don’t wanna talk about it,” he whispers hoarsely. “Not right now?”

It’s almost a plea, and Jimmy’s heart tightens. “Okay. That’s okay,” he says gently, forcing down his disappointment; this isn’t about him. He rises to his feet, holding out his hand to Tango. “Here, come on, let’s… let’s get up on the bed, alright? It’s late, you need some proper rest.”

Tango hesitates, though he accepts Jimmy’s offered hand to help him up. “You need to respawn…”

“It can wait,” Jimmy says easily. He tries for a grin. “Honestly, I- I already knew I wasn’t exactly easy on the eyes, but I didn’t think it was that bad…”

“No,” Tango says quickly, “no, you’re not-” He makes a frustrated noise. “Your wings.”

Jimmy softens. “They’re just feathers. They’ll grow back.”

Sure, it might take a while if his follicles have been badly damaged, and his wings won’t be a pretty sight once all the burned feathers fall out. But most of his flight feathers are still intact, so in terms of places to get burned, it could’ve been much worse.

Tango huffs a breath, clearly still upset with himself. But he doesn’t protest further as Jimmy eases onto the bed, gently pulling Tango with him. After collecting the lantern so the room is properly dark again, Jimmy nestles under the covers, sweeping a wing out to lightly gather Tango beside him.

Tango settles against him, and it’s then that Jimmy realizes he isn’t as warm as he used to be.

He’s not cold, not by any means. But Tango has always run a bit hotter than the average player- a blaze hybrid trait that Jimmy’s quite fond of. It was the whole reason they first shared a bed, back in the early days of the world, and inadvertently plunged their relationship into new, terrifying depths. If it wasn’t for that moment, they likely would’ve danced around the issue for far longer, and been robbed of many precious days of happiness together. So even on warm nights, Jimmy will still cuddle up beside Tango. Even if he has to kick all the blankets off.

But with the collar dampening Tango’s fire, he’s been robbed of that, as well.

Jimmy swallows the lump in his throat and puts an arm around Tango, who curls into his side, head resting on his shoulder. Having Tango so close is immediately comforting. God, to think of how close he came to losing this, to never holding Tango again… 

It’s scary. It’s incredibly scary. There are few things in the universe that can really, truly cause lasting harm to a player. Injuries can heal upon respawn, death isn’t permanent- except for worlds where it is, then they just respawn on a different world and start again. But if those Hels people had succeeded in taking Tango through that hacked portal, into some isolated prison world that Jimmy has no way of finding… he’s afraid that would’ve destroyed him.

Jimmy turns his head to press a kiss onto Tango’s forehead, right between the dimmed blaze rods hovering around his temples. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Tango whispers back.

The room grows silent. Jimmy stares up at the dark ceiling. His earlier tiredness has up and left him, his mind racing, plagued by thoughts of what might’ve been. It’s all he can do to reassure himself that it’s over, that Tango’s safe and still here with him.

That for once, he was lucky.

(For how long, though?)

He isn’t trying to stay awake. And he isn’t pretending to be asleep, either, just laying quietly with his thoughts. But at some point Tango must think he’s nodded off, because only then does he start to cry.

It’s a quiet sound. Just the sharp inhale and exhale of breath. Jimmy might not have even known he was crying if it wasn’t for the way his shoulders shake, and the sudden dampness seeping into Jimmy’s shirt. 

It takes all of Jimmy’s willpower not to console Tango, to hold him tighter and offer hushed reassurances. There’s a reason Tango waited until he thought Jimmy was asleep- he’s very much the kind of person who prefers to show emotion on his own terms. If he knew Jimmy was awake to witness this, he’d completely shut down again. And he needs this.

So Jimmy pushes down his own emotions and does nothing as his soulmate cries, trying not to move or start crying himself as the guilt for being so useless eats him alive.

(Sweet dreams…)

~*~

Morning comes, eventually.

At least, as far as Jimmy can tell by his internal clock. The room he wakes up to is still fairly dark- just a slim beam of light coming in from the hallway through the cracked door. Impulse must’ve done that to better keep an ear out for them overnight. Thoughtful guy. Tango is sleeping deeply next to Jimmy, and the sight is quite comforting.

It seems they’ve kept with their usual sleeping habits, even without a sunrise to greet them.

Carefully, without jostling Tango, Jimmy pulls up his inventory to grab his communicator. He can’t recall hearing it go off, but he wants to make sure there isn’t anything that urgently requires his attention. He’s surprised, however, to find a potion of healing; Impulse must’ve slipped it to him while he was sleeping.

A smile tugs at Jimmy’s lips. He’s long since regenerated his health, but the potion ought to help with his lingering injury. He downs the potion quickly, grimacing at the cloyingly sweet note of melon. It doesn’t take long for a cooling sensation to settle over his broken nose. When he gently probes at it, he can feel it’s still a little crooked, but at least the pain is gone.

Putting the empty bottle away, Jimmy digs out his communicator, squinting against the blue light. No one’s used chat lately or sent him any whispers- it seems they’re taking the request for privacy quite seriously. But there is the backlog from yesterday waiting for him. It takes him a minute just to scroll back to where it all began.

Bravo joined the game.

<Grian> ey??

AtlasSyn joined the game.

Tyrannicide joined the game.

Phantonym joined the game.

<Grian> EYY????

Helfyre_004 joined the game.

<PearlescentMoon> Ummm?

<Renthedog> What the heck??

CRIMETIME joined the game.

t3rr0r_b1te joined the game.

EbonyHelmentia joined the game.

baddomen666 joined the game.

<InTheLittleWood> WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?!?

staluggmite joined the game.

PwrPlayz joined the game.

<PearlescentMoon> Hello??

XxSLAYERxX joined the game.

Vexed2theMax joined the game.

ApexGamer98 joined the game.

<Smajor1995> wait how is this happening

<PearlescentMoon> Raid?? D:

SheHelsSeaHels joined the game.

ne’er_do_hels joined the game.

<Grian> i don;t know??

Jaffu joined the game.

<Grian> theres no one at spawn???

<Etho> woah!

<SolidarityGaming> SOS RSNCH

<Smajor1995> oh no

<Renthedog> What??

<Smallishbeans> rsnch lol

<GoodTimeWithScar> G come pick me up

Tyrannicide was slain by Tango.

staluggmite was slain by Tango.

Phantonym was slain by Tango.

<InTheLittleWood> Wait WHAT?!?!?!?!?!

<Smallishbeans> NO WAY

<BdoubleO100> OHHHHHHH

<Grian> EVERYONE TO RANCH

<ZombieCleo> what is happening???

staluggmite joined the game.

Tyrannicide joined the game.

<Smajor1995> omw cleo

Phantonym joined the game.

<impulseSV> Etho, Joel, our place?

<Renthedog> BigB where you at??

<bigbst4tz2> coming

SheHelsSeaHels was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [hOtgUy]

EbonyHelmentia was shot by Smajor1995.

XxSLAYERxX was slain by impulseSV.

CRIMETIME was slain by Wolf.

t3rr0r_b1t3 was slain by Renthedog.

Jaffu was doomed to fall by ZombieCleo.

SheHelsSeaHels joined the game.

ne’er_do_hels was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [hOtgUy]

Tyrannicide was slain by Renthedog.

XxSLAYERxX joined the game.

EbonyHelmentia joined the game.

CRIMETIME joined the game.

Phantonym was slain by Etho.

t3rr0r_b1t3 joined the game.

ne’er_do_hels joined the game.

XxSLAYERxX was slain by Wolf.

Jaffu joined the game.

Helfyre_004 was slain by Renthedog.

Vexed2theMax was slain by bigbst4tz2.

Tyrannicide joined the game.

XxSLAYERxX joined the game.

Jaffu was slain by Renthedog.

SheHelsSeaHels was slain by Wolf.

bigbst4tz2 was shot by AtlasSyn.

Renthedog died.

Phantonym joined the game.

baddomen666 was slain by Wolf.

SheHelsSeaHels joined the game.

Jaffu joined the game.

PwrPlayz was slain by InTheLittleWood.

Helfyre_004 joined the game.

Vexed2theMax joined the game.

staluggmite was slain by Smallishbeans.

Helfyre_004 was shot by Smajor1995.

EbonyHelmentia was slain by Wolf.

PwrPlayz joined the game.

ApexGamer98 was slain by PearlescentMoon.

baddomen666 joined the game.

PwrPlayz was slain by Wolf.

Jaffu was slain by Wolf.

baddomen666 was shot by Smajor1995.

EbonyHelmentia joined the game.

Vexed2theMax was slain by InTheLittleWood.

PearlescentMoon was shot by AtlasSyn.

Smajor1995 died.

Helfyre_004 joined the game.

ApexGamer98 joined the game.

SheHelsSeaHels was slain by Wolf.

ne’er_do_hels was slain by Wolf.

baddomen666 joined the game.

Vexed2theMax joined the game.

Helfyre_004 was slain by Wolf.

baddomen666 was slain by impulseSV.

CRIMETIME was slain by Smallishbeans.

Phantonym was slain by Wolf.

Vexed2theMax was slain by Wolf.

t3rr0r_b1t3 was slain by Wolf.

ApexGamer98 was slain by BdoubleO100.

Tyrannicide was slain by Wolf.

EbonyHelmentia was slain by Wolf.

AtlasSyn left the game.

XxSLAYERxX was slain by Wolf.

Bravo was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [hOtgUy]

Grian was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [hOtgUy]

GoodTimeWithScar died.

Jimmy doesn’t know how long he spends looking at chat, reading it over and over again as he tries to make sense of it. All those Hels players came here with the express purpose of kidnapping Tango. But why? Dr. Atlas had said something about ‘getting back to work’ and a farm design, but what does that even mean? 

Speaking of that doctor fella, he seems to have been the only one to get kills on the Double Lifers- the rest of them must’ve been preoccupied with Pearl’s wolves. Gosh, to think what her chat must look like…

But that’s something worth noting. Atlas didn’t waste his time with wolves, he went for Pearl and Bigb. He must’ve realized the wolves were Pearl’s and targeted her because of it. And the fact he went for Bigb instead of Ren, who was racking up the most kills... that means he was able to put together that they were soulbound, and he used that to get rid of the threat more easily.

Out of these Hels players, Atlas is clearly the one to watch out for.

Well, him and Bravo, of course. Though Bravo technically isn’t a Hels, if Jimmy’s understood it properly. But he’s certainly just as cruel and bloodthirsty as those other guys were, and he’s got it out for Tango the most. Jimmy can’t recall the last time he saw such hate in a player’s eyes, for any reason. And this is the guy claiming he should’ve been Jimmy’s soulmate? Unbelievable.

As if Jimmy would ever go for such a dense, hateful, entitled piece of-

“Honey,” Tango says suddenly, sitting up on his elbows, “you okay?”

Jimmy jolts in surprise; he must’ve been looking quite cross with his communicator. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he assures Tango softly, offering an apologetic smile. “Sorry if I woke you.”

It’s difficult to make out details in the scarce light from the hallway, but Tango looks much improved from yesterday. Even underneath the dried blood, the warmth has returned to his skin, replacing that sickly, pale pallor. His red eyes are sharp and alert- that’s a huge relief, as well.

“No, no, you’re good!” Tango says brightly. He leans over to press a kiss to Jimmy’s cheek. “Sleep alright?”

His tone throws Jimmy for a moment. Someone’s feeling better. Blinking, Jimmy puts his comm away. “I did, yeah,” he answers uncertainly. “You?”

“Yep!” Tango smiles at him; it seems a bit forced. “I uh- I’m all rest-ificated and ready to start the day. So, what I- well, I- I guess our first order of business, we should go take a look at the ranch, right, see what the damage is? Then we can do some resource gathering and start rebuilding, so we aren’t crashing at Impulse and Bdubs’s place forever.”

Jimmy pauses for a moment to process the words. “Umm… are you sure?” he asks tentatively. “I mean, we can go look at it if you want, but uh, are you- we should really focus on getting that collar off you first, don’t you think?”

Tango shrugs. He isn’t quite meeting Jimmy’s eyes. “Doesn’t bother me. Besides, we don’t have the key.”

Jimmy knits his brows together. “So what, we just... let it alone? Move on?”

Tango huffs a laugh- it sounds a bit faint. “Yeah, yeah exactly.” 

(What an abrupt change of character!)

(Lying again, it seems…)

(How suspicious.)

Okay, this is definitely strange behavior. Considering everything that happened yesterday, Jimmy would’ve expected Tango to still be physically and emotionally wrecked. But instead, he seems rather keen to just move on, like everything’s normal- 

Ah. Of course. Jimmy doesn’t know why he’s surprised.

“Tango...” he starts, “I don’t think-”

“Good morning!” Impulse hums as he pokes his head through the cracked door. “How we doin’, guys?”

Curse his timing. Tango, of course, immediately takes advantage of the distraction.

“Oh, hey Impy!” he says cheerfully. “Hey uh, sorry about earlier. You know, I uh, I was a little confused, and uh… you know...” He pulls a face; overdramatized. He’s trying to make light of it.

Impulse seems to share the same realization as Jimmy. “Hey, it’s alright,” he says easily, though he keeps his tone in a lower register- more serious. Not feeding into the fake energy. “No hard feelings. Here, I brought some food.”

Tango takes the offered food without even a second of hesitation; a stack of golden carrots. “Of course. Thank you, thank you.” He quickly starts crunching on one, conveniently busying himself so he doesn’t have to say anything else.

Oh well, at least he’s eating. Jimmy gives Impulse a tired smile. “Hey, Impulse. Thanks again for lettin’ us crash here.”

Impulse returns his smile. “Yeah, of course, no problem. So um, I’ve just got a bit of an update for you guys.” He sits down at the end of the bed, expression sobering. “The ranch situation is under control, they managed to get the fire out before it spread to anything else nearby. So your pastures, barns, and fields are safe. All your animals, too.”

It’s easy enough to pick up on what he’s left out. “But the ranch itself is gone, isn’t it?” Jimmy says quietly.

Impulse nods. “I’m sorry. Most of what’s left is just the stone. I think the basement is pretty intact, too, but everything else…”

“Yep.” Tango, finished with his carrot, shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah, I figured. That’s what we get for building with wood, even though I’m super flammable and stuff.”

Jimmy gives him a sympathetic look. “It’ll be okay-”

“So,” Tango interrupts, avoiding Jimmy’s gaze as he gives Impulse an intent look, “uh- anything else?”

(Ouch! Testy…)

Impulse rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. Grian wants to know if you guys are up for a chat. Nothing bad,” he adds quickly, “he’s just trying to figure out a solution and we’re just a little in the dark about everything. You can stick to the basics; if there’s something you aren’t comfortable telling us, that’s fine-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Tango assures him. Despite his grin, there’s a hard edge to his voice. “Let’s do it. Call everyone up, we’ll have a nice chat at spawn or something. Let’s- let’s get goin’.”

Impulse pauses. “Well, if you want, we can have just Grian come over...”

Tango huffs. “No, why- let’s just get everyone on the same page, okay? Get it all over with at once.” He spreads his hands. “No point in delaying, or- or having to explain the same thing over and over again, right? I mean, everyone’s stuck here ‘til Grian lifts the lockdown, I- I’m sure they’ll wanna know why.”

Jimmy exchanges a look with Impulse. “I… I suppose,” he says hesitantly. “But are you sure you’re-”

“Yeah,” Tango says, “yeah, it’s fine.” 

Impulse purses his lips, clearly fighting not to let his frustration show. 

The sentiment is one that Jimmy shares. It’s obvious Tango is trying to downplay everything- and if that’s his way of coping, fine. But it really throws a wrench into the works when moving forward requires actually addressing what happened, and having an in-depth conversation about it. And this doesn’t bode well for long-term; they can’t just pretend everything’s normal, no matter how much Tango might wish it. 

“Okay, I’ll let him know.” Impulse rises to his feet. “The bathroom’s at the end of the hallway if you guys wanted to wash up.”

Tango actually makes a face at that, dropping the facade for a moment. He really doesn’t like water. “Wash up..?”

Impulse winces. “You’re um. Still covered in dried blood.”

(I was wondering when he’d realize that…)

Tango blinks. “Oh. Oh, right, of course.” Absently, he reaches a hand up to scratch at his chin. “I should probably wash that off, yeah. I mean, everyone knows I’m a vicious monster but I don’t have to look it, right?” he laughs.

Jimmy’s heart tightens. “Hey, Tango…”

“No,” Impulse protests, “that’s not-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Tango says shortly. “Thanks, Impulse.”

“Alright.” Impulse lets the matter drop, turning to leave. “Come downstairs when you’re ready.”

As soon as Impulse is gone, Jimmy turns to Tango. “Hey, so-”

But Tango has already hopped out of bed and crossed to the door, calling, “Hang on, be right back!” over his shoulder.

Down the hall, Jimmy hears the bathroom door open and close. He sighs.

This is gonna be a fun conversation.

~*~

CONTINUED IN PART IX, ACT II

[ihavethedreamies]

Deserted | Hoshi

Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi - Seventeen)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.1k

Pairing: Hoshi x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Sci-Fi AU!, Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Hookup/One-Night-Stand/Strangers to Fucking

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Sweet Girl, Baby Girl, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom!), Added some piercings for ~flair~

Author's Note: I had my best friend read this the other day and she said it was a little much for her, but still enjoyable and she was sure others would love it.

I am planning on doing something like this for each member, so stay tuned!

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-> Woozi's <-

-> Wonwoo's <-

-> S.Coup's <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive under the same name. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on Tumblr my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." You groaned as your sand-rover grumbled in protest, slowing down before it halted. The engine not only shut off, but it let out a giant puff of black smoke. The smell of burning rubber stung your nose and you groaned louder, grabbing your bag off the passenger seat. Throwing the door open, you're glad that happened as the sun was setting and not when it was high in the sky. The desert, however, could be very cold at night. A gust of wind blasted against the door, almost slamming it shut on your legs. With a yelp, you swung out your arm to catch the door and sighed when it didn't keep going. Unwrapping the thin scarf around your neck, you rewrapped it around your head and face to protect you from the blowing sand. Slipping your goggles on over to cover your eyes, you winced when the leather cracked further. Getting another strap would be a pain in the ass. Grabbing the door, you let it slam closed and slung your bag over your shoulder. Walking around the vehicle, you noticed that is had been hit harder than you anticipated. Since your rover was just that, you had no gun mounted on it, so when the acid-spitting space worm shot out of the ground, you could only flee. The back tire had finally been eaten away enough to go flat and there was also a hole that led to the gas tank. Only a bit of the fuel dripped out and you knew there was no chance of getting the now wrecked rover anywhere. Climbing up on the other back wheel, you got the hatch in the back open so you could grab your bigger pack. Grunting, you swung it onto your back and cinched the straps tight. Turning back to the last outpost you had been at was a no go. There was a huge alien monster in the way. You weren’t sure where the next outpost was, so you pulled out your old, beaten up holo-tracker. When you turned it on, the holographic screen glitched, so you slammed the body of the device against your thigh a few times and then it evened out. Clicking the buttons, one of which kept getting stuck, you saw that the next outpost was miles away. Walking that far would be an absolute drag but at least it was going to be night.

"Freaking desert planets…" You grumbled as if you had ever lived on a different one. You grew up on Sierra-Victor-Tango, but after taking a trip to several other human worlds, you learned that your home was…well, a shithole. Everything was old and falling apart. In the cities, crime was rampant, and the smaller outposts and towns were poor. When you told your mother you were going out to scavenge through the desert, she was unsure. Not because she was worried for your safety, but she had no idea what you hoped to find. It was a sandy wasteland inhabited by weird space bugs and lizards. You had never known earth like your grandparents so when you learned Terra animals and bugs looked so different, you understood why your grandma was so skeeved out.

Looking back at the wrecked rover, you wondered if it could give you some credits for scrap, but the work to get all the way out to it was not worth it. Hiking up your pack again, you set off, holding the scarf to your mouth as a gust of wind blasted you. A little blinking cursor flashed on your holo-tracker indicating where you were as you walked toward the setting sun. Behind you and to the right, the two different moons rose higher and got clearer. Twinkling stars began to appear and the cold was starting to set in. In the distance, you saw a giant rock outcropping and you headed for it. It was off the packed-in road, so you couldn't go very fast in the shifting sand.  When you reached the rock, you walked around to the other side, looking for a crack or something you could wedge into for shelter. What you were not expecting was some kind of shelter erected against the stone. It looked semi-permanent and constructed around some kind of indent in the giant rock.

Creeping closer, you saw someone sitting at a fire pit, their back to you. What startled you the most though, was a giant feline-like shape lying next to the fire as well. You had never seen one that big and it looked like a tiger from the books your grandmother brought from earth. Instead of orange with black stripes, it was black with white stripes and had long top fangs. The wind shifted; it was coming straight behind you instead of at you. The beast lifted its head, beginning to growl. At this, the person turned around and you saw it was a man. He had a scar across the bridge of his nose and his ears were heavily pierced. Another piercing accented his right brow, and he had a long narrow tattoo behind his ear and down his neck. You immediately shot your arms up in surrender and he motioned his tiger to lay down.

"Who are you?" He called and you dared not step closer.

"Uh…(Y/N), of Morgran Town." You had never seen someone like him before. He was incredibly attractive, and his poncho-like cloak hit right at his ribs, and he had nothing on under it. His muscles were toned, and his skin was smooth other than a scar near his hip. Tight leather pants clung to thick thighs and his big boots highlighted his long legs. Even his arms were well defined, a belt holding some sort of flask wrapped around his right bicep. His eyes were bright yellow, and you didn't know that happened naturally, his hair was white with black tips, reminiscent of his tiger.

"Morgran Town? You’re a long way from home." He replied, motioning with his hand for you to come closer. Finally, out of the shadow of the rock, he could see you in the double moonlight. You felt…tiny. He wasn't super big, not like some you've met, but he wasn't short either.

"Well, I'm a traveler, my rover broke down a few miles back." You finally let your arms down and instead moved to grip the straps of your pack.

"Headed to Korvo?"

"Yes."

"Don't."

"What? Why?"

"Two weeks ago, they got hit by slavers, it’s a ghost town." The man motioned you closer and toward a stump he had carved into a seat. Slowly, you walked the long way around, avoiding the cold gaze of the animal. You removed your pack, letting it thumb next to your seat, but you didn't take off your other bag; just in case you had to flee. Now that you were closer, you could tell that some kind of meat was being roasted on the fire.

"It won't taste too good because I can't really cook, but it will be cooked." He flashed a smile, and it took you off guard. He was…adorable.

"You'll share?" You looked at the roast, your mouth watering. You hadn't had fresh meat in months, only dried stuff. You wondered if he made the kill or his pet.

"Don't worry about Horanghae, he won't bite unless I let him." He waved at the animal, and you nodded, still feeling nervous in its gaze.

"I'm Hoshi." He held out his hand to shake and you shyly returned the gesture, and he sat back down at a long bench.

"You're a traveler? What do you do that for?"

"Oh, uh, I'm mostly looking for old wrecks of like shuttles and ships and stuff." You shrugged. It took forever to find things like that, but you gained a knack for it, and it got you a crap ton of money sometimes. While not official, you basically worked for the International Assembly as a freelancer, so you did jobs at your leisure.

"That must take a long time." He smiled and you shrugged.

"Sometimes. What about you?"

"I'm a Ranger." He held up a medallion hanging around his neck that had an upside-down triangle-like logo on it. You had heard of them before, there weren’t too many of them, it was hard to get accepted. They traveled the desert and worked as bounty hunters. That's all people really knew about them.

"So, if Korvo is a bust, where should I head next?"

"Hm. There's nowhere close really, not that you can get to easily by foot…I can't leave here for a few days, so you can stay with me till then. I'll give you a lift after." He jutted his thumb over to a hover bike that was resting next to his abode.

"Oh! Thank you. That's very generous." You let out a sigh of relief, you had begun to wonder what you were going to do. You were really bad at hunting and had only so much water in your canteen. He told you about his situation as you waited for the meat to be done. He had a well that was in the back of his tent, which was half in the rock. He had blown a giant cave into it with a grenade and set up his home. Horanghae would hunt for him, and he had a communication relay set up as well to talk with the rest of the Rangers.

"I only have one place to sleep though…" He finished off his explanation and you waved him off.

"I can sleep on the ground, not the first time I've had to."

"No way. What kind of person would I be if I let my guest sleep on the ground?" He shook his head. Thanking him, he declared the food done and hacked of a chunk for you. Hoshi speared the meat on a wooden skewer and handed it over. Eagerly eating the food, he watched in amusement at your ravenous behavior and then ate himself.

"Thanks. I can't begin to thank you; I would've been a goner." You shuddered at the thought. If you had arrived at Korvo and found it wasted, you might have had a breakdown.

"Don't worry about it!" He took the rest of the meat off the spit and gave it to the tiger. He led you inside his hut, even carrying your big pack in for you. It was nice and cozy inside, beautiful colored Afghans and rugs were laid out everywhere. The front room was like a living room and had a pile of pillows to sit at and even had a fairly nice holo-screen set up. There was a curtain against the left wall that he told you led to the bathroom. The next room was the bedroom essentially and he told you to go in and make yourself comfortable, he would sleep in the front room. Thanking him again you scurried into the back. That's where he had his communication equipment set up, and there was an actual bed in there! Under all the blankets and pelts, there was not just a sack of straw or even a crate; it was an actual mattress. You hadn't slept on one in almost a year. Taking your boots off, you jumped on and groaned at the comfort. Pulling the softest Afghan over you, you drifted off quickly and slept better than you had in a while.

A soft beeping stirred you from your sleep. Glancing at your watch, you saw it was almost sunrise and so you sat up, stretching with a groan. The beeping was coming from the monitor he had set up. Not wanting to invade his privacy, you got up to go into the other room and inform him. He was still asleep, having spread out across the floor and pillows. His tiger must have been outside. It would have been cute to see him sleep like that if it wasn’t for the fact his torso was now completely uncovered and only his lower half was covered by the blanket. Not just that, but his tight pants were thrown over a chair in the corner, and the blanket was tented in a very obvious way. The realization made you squeak in embarrassment, and you fled back into the other room. While you had not been with too many guys before, you knew for sure what he was hiding under there. The soft beeping continued from the monitor, and you wondered what you should do. If he had to go in there to check on it, he might not realize he had a…problem. Living alone probably allowed him some freedom, but you were here, and you weren't sure he would think of that.

Dashing from the back room into the bathroom, you realized how bad you had to go. Once that was done, you realized in shock that the plumbing was…actually plumping. Kind of. It was one of those high-tech situations that vaporized the waste into nothingness. The sink actually gave you water and it seemed so would the shower. As you were still in there, staring at your face in the mirror, you kept thinking of how to wake him. All of a sudden, the beeping got loud enough for you to hear in the other room and when you peaked your head out, you saw he was stirring. That solved that problem. Peering through the curtain, you watched him get up and your jaw dropped as the blanket fell. Luckily, he was at least wearing undergarments, but they were tight and hid very little. He was very nicely defined, his muscles weren't huge, but he still looked extremely good. His hair was messy, and you were enraptured watching him stretch. He trudged into the back room, scratching his chest and seemingly ignoring his morning problem. You heard a ding and he spoke to whoever was on the other line. His voice was rough from sleeping and you knew you were in danger. How is it that you managed to find such a gorgeous man out in the middle of the desert? Another voice responded to him, but you couldn't pick out any specific words and soon their conversation was over, and you jumped back into the bathroom and away from the curtain.

"(Y/N)? You in there?" He was standing right on the other side, and you swallowed before answering in the positive.

"I, uh, need in there, but…" You knew why he was hesitating and for some reason, some stupid little voice in the back of your conscience screamed loud enough for it to come out of your mouth.

"I can help you with that." You blurted and gaped at yourself in the mirror. He didn't say anything, and you kicked yourself. Why, why did you say that? Before you could say anything else, the curtain pulled back and you saw him behind you in the reflection of the mirror. His look was much different than the night before. His yellow eyes that shined with laughter had turned sharp. It made you shudder as you made eye contact with him indirectly through the mirror.

"I-I mean, I don't know how to thank you for helping me…So, I uh, can help with whatever." You were glad the mirror didn't go too low, otherwise you would definitely be staring. You could see him slowly look you up and down and you froze under his gaze. It was like what the tiger did to you last night, but ten times worse. You felt like a deer about to be eaten, and it turned you on to no end. Wandering around the desert for a living doesn't exactly afford many opportunities for romantic or sexual escapades. You figured the case was probably pretty true for him as well, if not more. Realizing in the night you had shed your shirt; you were just standing in the wrap-around you used as a bra and your leggings. Because of the heat of the desert and the tightness of said leggings, you usually went commando, and you wondered if you were wet enough for it to soak through the fabric.

As he stepped into the small space, he let the curtain fall behind him but didn't step completely through the entryway.

"Are you sure?" He stared you in the eye, once again through the mirror, you did not yet have the courage to turn around. While you wanted to say you were joking, that it was just an impulse to tease, you couldn't. Seeing him to begin with was enough, let alone in his current state.

"Are you sure?" You shot back. You thought yourself rather plain with no distinctive features. Your freckled skin from years of sun exposure was highlighted strangely by the tan line that formed around your goggles. You were covered in dirt too because of wandering out in the blowing sand. His poor bed was probably covered in sand too. Not easy to find somewhere with running water, let alone hot water, your hair was pulled back into a braid but was not exactly clean. You were glad body odor had been genetically eradicated decades ago. Plus, compared to him, you were painfully average.

When he didn't verbally respond, you grew even more nervous, but he stepped in further till he was standing a few steps behind you. He peered at the mirror from behind, and he was nearly a head taller than you. His stare was even more intense now and you shivered. Taking a deep breath, you finally worked up the courage to turn around, and he was immediately on you. His kiss was searing, and you immediately groaned. Nothing about it was gentle, it did truly feel like he was trying to eat you. He bit your bottom lip and you moaned, his tongue quickly flicking against your own. Something cold and round hit your teeth and you realized his tongue was pierced. Oh lord. Hoshi's hand had come to rest around your throat, under your jaw, but was in no way harsh or tight. This way, he could angle your head just right. Your neck protested some and so you propped up on your tip toes, tipping your head and allowing the kiss to deepen further. His second arm wrapped around you, almost encircling you while his hand gripped your ass. The hand on your jaw moved to the back of your head and you wrapped your smaller hands over his biceps. Pulling back for air, his fingers buried further in your hair and yanked your head back so he could kiss down the column of your throat. You moaned as you felt his teeth buried slightly into the flesh, then sucked hard, definitely leaving a mark. As he pressed you so close to him, you could feel his covered hard-on against your bare stomach. Your head swam as he sucked on your earlobe and his hand left your head to wrap around your back.

"Jump." He ordered and you followed, his mouth landing on yours again as he left the bathroom. The man easily carried you and brought you to the bedroom, "Put me down a sec." You told him. Hoshi raised his eyebrow in question but did so. You immediately sank to your knees, and he groaned before you even touched him.

"You sure?" He asked.

"If I go to do something, I'm sure." You told him, implying for him to stop asking. He nodded and you nervously but quickly reached for the waistband of his only item of clothing. Exhaling, you removed the garment and gaped as he stepped out of it. Swallowing a build-up of saliva, you no longer had to imagine. What shocked you the most however was the two metal spheres adorning the head of his cock. A full reverse prince albert. That was the hottest thing you had ever seen.

"Good?"

"Yes." You cleared your throat, wiggling your jaw a bit then reached for him, laving your tongue around the head, the metal imbedded there cold where his flesh was hot. He swore as you began to descend. Your jaw protested some, but in the best possible way. You saw his eyes widen in shock then narrow as he moaned, your nose reaching his pelvis. Swallowing around him, the piercing was an odd sensation, you pulled back as little as possible so you could still breathe. Once you found the proper depth, you pulled off him and gave him a look, spreading your legs more and placing your hands on the floor.

"(Y/N)?" He asked and you simply opened your mouth wide, tongue out.

"Fuck." He practically growled and he adjusted your jaw by the chin and then he slid in. Keeping your teeth covered was a little difficult with his girth, but you managed. You could focus on that while he did all the movement. He had noticed what you were doing and made sure not to go too deep but every so often so you could still breathe. Your gag reflex was pretty much gone at that point for several different reasons, but with his size (and the piercing) you let out a small gag every once and a while. Hoshi's hands dug into your hair as he used your mouth, very quiet but high-pitched moans flowing out. Feeling him twitch, you knew he was close, and he almost pulled out. While part of him wanted to see your face covered, he much preferred it when you grabbed the back of his thighs and buried him completely in your throat.

"Oh, fuck." He groaned, throwing his head back as he came. You moaned at the feeling yourself and the vibration rolled his eyes back. When he was done, you swallowed to make sure everything went down and he pulled out fully, still half-hard. Licking your lips sensually, he huffed and reached down to lift you up under your arms. You yelped at the east to which he does this, and he literally tossed you onto the bed. He grabbed the fastener of your breast band; as he roughly pulled it open and off, the motion flipped you over onto your stomach. He was manhandling you with such ease. Hoshi moved your braid out of the way and started to lay seething kisses along your spine and over your shoulders. His hand came under you and ran down your stomach till the tips of his fingers reached the waistband of your leggings. He pulled your waist up, his now fully hard cock wedged between the cleft of your ass. You were definitely leaking through the fabric. Placing a final kiss on your shoulder, his hand hooked into your bottoms, and he tugged hard. You flipped over once again and as Hoshi dragged the last of your clothes off, he also tugged you to the foot of the bed. Before you could get your bearings, his hands gripped your thighs, tight, and pressed your legs open. You knew you would have bruises there in the morning and his hot breath on your core made your hips seize.

"W-wait-!" You gasped as his tongue licked a hot stripe up to your clit. You had never had this done before, just never really cared to. It was something new for sure and it was almost too much. The slight cold of the ball piercing his tongue made you flinch. You could feel hip lips curl into a smirk against you at this and caught him looking up at you. The sight was overwhelming, and he sucked hard on your clit, you head slamming back into the bed.

"You taste amazing." He groaned against your skin. His hands moved from your thighs, and he wrapped his arms around your legs and buried in deeper. The hold he had on you prevented almost all movement and your upper body squirmed to compensate. Hoshi's tongue seemed like it shouldn't be as long as it was, nor as strong. The piercing was brushing right against your entrance and hit your clit over and over. He was like a man starved, dehydrated, and he was sucking your soul out.

"Ah!" You almost screamed when he came back to your clit and your orgasm hit you, hard. It was stronger than you had ever experienced and lasted much longer. He groaned against you, his continued tongue movements dragging it out. When it finally calmed down, he pulled away as the overstimulation began to sting. The man let you catch your breath and when you were able to open your eyes to look at him and he was drenched.

"Oh my god!" You gasped and he just laughed, wiping his mouth and sucking everything else off his hand and fingers.

"You ever squirted before?" He asked and you shook your head, mortified.

"It’s okay, pretty girl, that was sexy." His smile was too cute for what he just did to you.

"You need a minute?" He asked and you rested back again with a nod. Delicately, instead of what he was doing before, he picked you up and shifted you higher up the bed. His lips came back to yours, gentle at first and growing heated again. There was something about his kisses, they alone made your head swim. Was it him or his skill? The tongue piercing? Who knows? As he felt your body become less tense, his arms wrapped around you and tilted your hips up so he could grind against you. You were still somewhat sensitive so even just the slight friction was so good. Already knowing this from when he was straining your jaw, you knew that his cock was going to stretch you so good. The sting would be so worth it. It had been a long time since anyone filled you up and no one had ever as much as you knew Hoshi was going to.

"You ready, princess?" He finally let your tongue go and you could not form a thought to make words, so you nodded. He smirked and the head poked at your entrance. As he eased in, the sting was more intense than you thought it would be, but so, so good. The stretch wasn't the only thing that took your breath away. That gosh darn piercing perfectly hit your clit and rubbing against your walls as eased in. At least he was self-aware of his size because he went slow, but knew he wasn't hurting you. Your hard exhales were tinged with a moan, nearly imperceptible. He was big, you knew part of it was because you were quite small, but his cock was impressive on its own.

"So tight." He grunted, grinding into you and your clit throbbed.

"J-just give me a sec." You gripped his shoulders, breathing through the delicious stretch. It felt incredible despite the slight pain. After you sat for a bit, he shifted some and then moved slowly, hiking your leg up over his elbow and he went even deeper.

"Fuck!" You moaned, your head tossed back, and you almost came again right then.

"You okay?" He chuckled some, he could tell by how you clenched that it felt good, not that it hurt. That fucking piercing brushed right against your sweet spot. Hoshi had already ruined you for any other man, and he hadn't even moved.

"Ready?" he asked, massaging your hip. You nodded and the hand on your hip tightened its grip, and his arm hiked your leg up higher. He barely pulled out, maybe an inch, then his hips snapped, and you came.

"Ohgodohgodohgod." He grunted as your walls clenched him tight and he was growing smug at the pleasure he was wreaking on you. In truth though, he was trying really hard not to cum already himself. He knew he would have some time before he could again given he had already came, but it had been a while. However, every other time he had waited this long, he could go for many, many rounds. If he could, he would keep you in his bed and in his hold for the rest of the day. He wanted to make it so you couldn't walk by the time he could bring you to the outpost. Honestly, he wanted to make it, so you never wanted to leave. When your orgasm died down, he waited a bit longer, you laid limp in his arms.

"You're gonna have to do all the work now." You told him with a tired giggle, like he wasn't already doing that. He smirked, notched your other leg up over his arm, then proceeded to fold your legs up to your chest. He pressed your thighs down with his hands, forming more bruises and you prepared yourself. His next thrust was almost hard enough (it seemed) to dislodge a kidney. It knocked the wind out of you and your sensitive skin burned. You were in for a ride. His thrusts were not even as hard as they could be, you knew. Hoshi only pulled his cock halfway out before he was buried as deep as he could go. After every thrust, he would grind down into your clit, the metal ball inside rubbing your g-spot. Your moans were getting harder to contain, you almost wanted to scream. Drool pooled out of the sides of your mouth; your entire body was on fire.

"Don't hold back, baby girl, let me hear you." He grunted out, his thrusts slowing but no less deep. Finally getting permission to be loud, you whined, and he unfolded you and led you to wrap your legs around his waist. Up on his knees, he positioned you to rest your lower back on his thighs and he rolled his hips to snap his cock into you over and over. The new position let that stupid piece of metal scrape perfectly against your walls, the head of his dick probably bruising your cervix. You were ruined, no thoughts in your head. You were letting out slurring moans of his name and pleas for…you weren't even sure at this point. He had fucked you stupid.

"(Y/N), pretty girl, where can I cum?" His thrusts had gotten more erratic, he wasn't able to hold back anymore.

"I-inside." You moaned, able to form a complete thought.

"Yeah?"

"Please." You keened and this sent him over the edge. Getting as deep as he could, he swallowed your moan, sliding his tongue back in your mouth, painting your insides white. The hot sensation gave you another orgasm, not nearly as strong though, and it was a relief. As the spurts of cum stopped, he pulled away from your mouth and he  chuckled at the fucked-out look you had.

"I'll let you rest, sweet, but then I'm going to fill you up again."

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Taglist: @gaslysainz

[norinenglish]

Stardew Rancher AU - Tango:

2 Hearts Event

Jimmy walks into the Blacksmithy and this happens

(Writing below the cut)

>> Part One | Next Part

When Jimmy pushes open the door of the Blacksmith’s shop after an afternoon in the mines, ready to discover what’s hidden in the three geodes in his pockets, he can immediately tell that something is different. 

Tango isn’t at his counter, like he usually is. His face doesn’t light up and he doesn’t smile with an easy grin like Jimmy daydreamed about on his way down to the town. 

Well, it’s not entirely unusual for the blacksmith to be working on something and not waiting for a customer – like during their first meeting, for instance. It’s just that most of the time, Tango seems to be waiting for him to push the door. But this time, he’s lying on the floor, his head half disappearing under the furnace, mumbling to himself and cursing. 

It sounds like there is a problem with it? What could he be looking at inside of the forge itself? At least it isn’t lit right now, but still, whatever the ‘happy fun sauce’ Tango’s mumbling about is, it does not sound good for the furnace. 

“Is everything alright?” Jimmy asks worryingly, stepping in the room fully and letting the door close behind him. 

There might have been a way to make his presence known in a smoother way. But surely, the sound of the door’s bell should have been a pretty good indicator, shouldn’t it? 

Tango, though, has the observation skill of a ravager, and that includes all of his senses, vision and audition alike. So, naturally, he yelps, tries to sit up and look back towards the room and bonks his head on the hard stone. 

“Oh my gosh, Tango!”

In a second, Jimmy is kneeling next to the other man where he’s lying on the floor. He has a hand pressed against the side of Tango’s face to keep his head from moving, trying to keep his head upright and the other gripping his shoulder. 

“Tango! Tango? Can you hear me?”

Fortunately, the man blinks and the unnatural red of his eyes shine through. 

“Are you alright?” he asks in a softer manner, feeling relief in his chest already. “Do you know who I am?”

Should he be calling a medic? The clinic in town isn’t even open. What are they going to do if Tango has a concussion? How do you know if someone has a concussion?

Tango opens his eyes, red like a burning fire, and stares at him. The line of worry barring his forehead, tainted with black soot and wrinkled by paint, smoothes. 

“Are you an angel?” he asks in an awed whisper. 

“Uh,” Jimmy says but whatever words he could utter stay stuck in his throat. 

Is there a way to turn the furnace down? he wonders distantly, feeling hot all over. 

But he doesn’t dare to let Tango go, so he looks back down at the man and says, “I’m just Jimmy. Do you, uh, recognise me?” 

What if Tango doesn’t recognise him? Does that mean anything? Maybe it’s the blow to the head or maybe it’s just that Jimmy isn’t really someone you would remember. 

“Jimmy,” Tango repeats, “right. Of course.” 

Before Jimmy can breathe a sigh of relief, Tango tries to sit up cautiously, making him panic even more. His hands move to both grip the fabric of his shirt, half holding him up and half holding him down. 

“Woah, woah, woah!” the farmer exclaims. “Are you sure you should move? I think you need a doctor.” 

The panic is buzzing into Jimmy’s throat like a swarm of bees. 

“No, I’m fine. I’m fine,” Tango grumbles unhappily, grabbing onto Jimmy’s bicep and pulling himself fully into a sitting position. With his other hand, he rubs his forehead which is taking on an alarming shade of red. 

“There isn’t even a doctor in town,” Jimmy continues, because once he starts, the words just stream out of his mouth like a river after heavy rains. “Jeez, I don’t know what to do. I feel like I should get help but I don’t want to leave you alone. I’m so useless-”

“You’re fine,” Tango cuts him. “I’m fine too.”

The world is upside down. Tango is reassuring Jimmy instead of the other way around.

“What if you have a concussion?” Jimmy asks.

“Big B,” the blacksmith blurts out suddenly. 

“What?”

“You can get Big B. He’s Skizzlface’s aid. He’ll know what to do. But I’m positive I’m fine. My ears are not ringing and I don’t feel like I’m going to throw up on you.”

“Are you sure I can leave you alone, right now?”

Tango manages to raise a hand to Jimmy’s left wrist, where he’s still gripping at Tango’s shoulder, and squeezes weakly. “I’ll be alright,” he says. “Just give me something I can lean against.”

Jimmy hesitates a bit. Undoing his hold on the other man has to be the hardest thing he’s ever done. He finds a stool and a jacket and puts it behind Tango.

Once he’s sure the guy’s position is secured, he says, “I’ll be back.”

Tango doesn’t answer with words but he makes a cute little wave with his hand. 

Big B, in the tavern where he works, takes everything with an unnerving calm. Maybe it’s because Jimmy has taken to himself all of the panic of the world. He takes a first aid case from behind the counter and walks steadily to the blacksmithy, kneels next to Tango and start asking him questions. 

Tango is not confused and although his head hurt, he doesn’t seem to suffer from a concussion. Still, Big B is going to keep him in observation tonight. Slowly, Tango stands, makes a few steps before he’s cleared to walk back to Big B’s with them. 

“Thank you for your help, Jimmy,” Big B tells him, walking back to the door. “I’ll keep an eye on him, don’t worry about it. If something like this happens again, you can come to me.” 

Jimmy nods, relieved that there is actually in this town something for situations mike those. 

On the way back to the farm, though, all he can think about is Tango’s soft murmur asking him, ‘Are you an angel?’

*

The next morning, when he wakes up at the crow of the rooster, his mailbox is full. The letter in it says, 

Um, Hello…

Sorry about yesterday. Thanks for your help. The furnace is working great now. I made one metal bar too many, and I thought you might need it.

-Tango, the blacksmith

Inside, he finds an iron bar, polished and shining under the morning sun. He folds the letter carefully and tucks it safely away in his journal.

[whats-she-gonna-post-next]

How about a flower ranchers drabble for a flower ranchers vote?

As it turns out, I can't write dabbles. I ramble too much. Enjoy these 661 words of sick!Scott getting love that is totally not based on me having been sick recently and just wanting a hug.

-

Scott hates being sick.

To be fair, he doesn’t know anyone who particularly likes being sick, but that’s besides the point. He just really hates it. His head gets foggy, his limbs feel weak, his throat is shot so he can’t really talk and he feels half a step away from crying at any given moment. All he wants to do is cuddle with his partners, but he really shouldn’t, because of the who being sick thing, and life just really sucks for him right now.

“Petal?” Jimmy’s voice calls from the doorway, and Scott just wraps himself tighter in the blankets of the guest bedroom he’s sequestered himself in, “Are you doing alright?”

The silence drags on, and Scott hopes Jimmy will just take the hint and leave before he can do something stupid like risk him getting sick because he was being clingy .

“Scott? Are you sleeping?” Jimmy’s voice was closer now, and Scott bit his lip. He just wanted a hug, but he couldn’t be selfish.

Not a moment later, Scott felt a hand on his back and he curled inwards a little more, pressing ever so subtly back into Jimmy.

“Darling,” Jimmy crouched down in front of him, hand not leaving his blanketed body and a gentle smile on his face, “There you are. How are you doing?”

All at once, the tenuous hold Scott had on his emotions breaks down, and all that comes out when he opens his mouth is a quiet sob.

“Scott, what’s wrong?” Jimmy looks so concerned and it just make Scott cry harder.

Nothing is wrong, Scott’s just being over emotional and he’s tired, and he’s too hot yet also too cold, and even the soft sobs are enough to irritate his throat, and he wants to be held, but he doesn’t want to get his partners sicks, and he just really hates being sick.

He doesn’t know what, if any of that comes out, but it doesn’t take long for the panic to disappear and instead get replaced with a softer look.

“I see. I’ll be right back.”

And then Jimmy is gone, and Scott should relax, that’s what he wanted, but the tears just won’t stop, and it’s giving him a headache on top of everything else.

Luckily, it’s no more than a couple of minutes before the door is opened and someone comes in.

“Oh baby,” Tango, that’s Tango’s voice, “We should have known better, shouldn’t we?”

Scott has no clue what he’s going on about, but it doesn’t matter as Tango crawls onto the bed. He unwraps some of the blankets, slipping under them and rearranging Scott on his chest, rubbing his back as the crying finally subsides.

“You shouldn’t do this,” Scott whispers, voice cracking and burning, “You’ll get sick.”

“We couldn’t care less about that,” comes the reply, “You are more important than that. Jimmy’s on his way too, but he’s grabbing you a tea for your throat, and than we are all taking a nap.”

It’s almost enough to make Scott cry again, though from an over abundance of love this time. As it is, he just buries his face deeper in Tango’s chest. He’s almost asleep when Tango nudges his, sitting him up and turning him around to rest his back against his chest, despite his whine.

“Just for a second, love,” Jimmy smiles at him from his spot in front of him, “I just want to get some liquids into you before you fall asleep.”

He’s so earnest that Scott obeys without thought, sipping on the chamomile tea he was handed, cooled just enough that it didn’t burn, but just soothed his throat. It wasn’t long before he’d drank the lot, cup being pulled from his fingers and set aside, as he is rearranged once more to be laying down. Tango curled around him from behind, and Jimmy curled around his front.

Finally, Scott could relax, slipping off gently into sleep.

[silverskye13]

Crawls in, summones. Don't think I didn't see that tag. Rancher SOS AU? - Dove

[looks around conspiratorially.]

Just... Don't tell anyone where you got it okay?

[slips you this snippet]

[tips my hat]

On the house!

Tango was muddling through his clockwork horse’s engine, making sure all his tinkering from the weeks before wasn't falling apart. There were some signs of tension from the heat -- going from a dead stop to a gallop had probably done that -- but nothing looked like it was about to explode or melt or fall apart. He moved on to the less crucial bits, staring into the shoulders to make sure the sockets weren't breaking down from the strain of pulling.

“Does she have a name?”

Jimmy’s voice was so close by his ear, Tango felt it as much as he heard it. He gave an inglorious cry filled with half a dozen incoherent syllables. He spun on his heels and, startled again by how close Jimmy was standing, smacked the swordsman on the arm. He might as well have smacked a brick wall.

“Hey hey hey! Personal space!” Tango shouted, taking a step backwards only to press his back against the horse’s flank, cornered. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack or what?”

Jimmy’s eyebrows raised in surprise, his blue eyes so pale in the morning light, they were nearly white. He raised his hands placatingly and laughed, a loud, bubbling sound that turned everything from the expression on his face to the tilt of his shoulders into a grin. “Woah! Sorry Big Man! I thought you heard me come up.”

“Well I didn't!” Tango snapped a little too fiercely, his heart racing. His mouth was dry, and there was a fearful moment where he wondered if Jimmy had seen him, had known what he was doing.

Wonder workers weren't taboo -- at least, not in Anuket City, where innovation was something fervently pursued, and anything that could grant someone a head start was expected to be exploited. But he heard tales of wonder workers who were run out of their villages because of the strangeness of their gifts; of priests of the Hanged Mother and similar cults who would use any excuse to persecute people. More recently, there had even been rumors of a rogue wonder worker to the north whose horrible clay creations came to life and chopped off people's heads. Being a wonder worker was starting to get dangerous again, and Tango… Tango was scared. And it was obvious he was scared. And it struck him suddenly, standing there, pinned between this massive swordsman and his stupid clockwork horse, that he didn't know anything about the man he was traveling with, besides the fact that he whistled and enjoyed small talk, and was capable of great violence.

Jimmy offered an apologetic smile. He kept his hands forward, fingers splayed to reinforce their emptiness, and took a large, exaggerated step back. “I really am sorry, Tango. I should've figured you'd still be a bit keyed up from yesterday. You okay?”

It was all Tango could do not to audibly sigh with relief. He latched onto the excuse like it could save him from drowning. “I’m… yeah I'm a little freaked out I guess. It was hard to get to sleep last night.”

Both not technically lies.

“First time having your life threatened?” Jimmy asked lightheartedly, his smile still apologetic.

“Er… no.” Tango mumbled, scuffing his boot across the ground, feeling embarrassed. “I had a rival engineer sabotage one of my machines once.”

“No kidding?”

“It exploded,” Tango said. “I was lucky I was out of the room when it went off.”

“I did notice you were lacking the ah, outward signs of a close shave with an explosion,” Jimmy laughed nervously, and Tango thought that was probably the most roundabout way to say ‘You've got all your limbs, and aren't covered in burn scars.’

Tango swallowed hard, and decided to change the topic before they dipped into new, perilous territory. “How about you? Feeling… uh… jumpy?”

“What? Me?” Jimmy gave a dashing grin, “I've had worse than a pair of robbers running at me before.” His expression mellowed a bit, and he thumbed the bandages on his forearm thoughtfully. “I'd be lying if I said I was used to this kind of thing. You don't just get used to people trying to kill you. But… I dunno. It's like -- it's like dealing with a fear of deep water by learning how to swim, isn't it? It's scary, but you know how to keep your head above water, yeah?”

Tango blinked, struck momentarily speechless by the unexpectedly profound answer. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well, fear not, dear Tango of the Tek Variety,” Jimmy said, reclaiming his bravado. He flashed Tango a winning smile and a sweeping bow. “As long as I'm kicking around, you’re safe. Or as safe as anyone can be, anyway. It is what I'm here for.”

“Right, yeah, exactly,” Tango chuckled, a blush heating the tips of his ears. He could say with honesty he'd never been offered a knightly bow by anyone before. Up until this exact moment, he probably would have called such a gesture showy and stupid. He didn't know how Jimmy had managed to make it charming, Tango could feel his pulse quickening a bit in his chest.

Oh gods.

“We should -- we should get going.” Tango said, desperate for a distraction from this over-friendly swordsman and his dashing bravado. “We’re burning daylight.”

“Right you are,” Jimmy smirked, and, whistling, got to work striking camp. Tango muttered a few choice words under his breath about stupid nonsense feelings and stupid pretty people, and finished checking the horse for repairs.

[days-until-burnout]

Ranchers (any) Tango doesn't realize how clingy he is, but Jimmy sure does (he has the grass stains and burnt clothing to prove it)

🧍‍♂️ i dont know what happened. i was aiming for something else and then... yeah. anyhow. hey! start of month 3 with some ranchers unrelated, but ambiguous and qpr relationships have been assigned the + symbol. because yes. i am god and this is my playground _____

📧 Day 61 -

Characters - Jimmy + Tango Words - 616 Time 25 mins Content - Double Life and EmpiresxHC Crossover Setting

It starts simple. High-fives, light punches on the shoulders and arm, fist-bumps. Nothing but a quick, fleeting touch that leaves no sign that there has ever been contact. They happen often, Jimmy notices at first. When he finds ores, when he brings cows, when he survives the deep dark and comes home, to the ranch, their ranch with enchanted armor. Tango is more than quick to cheer and whoop, fists in the air as he celebrates their growing resources. Tango extends his fist, fiery tail flickering wildly behind him, looking up at him with lively eyes and Jimmy smiles, makes a fist and that is that. 

It grows from then easily. Walking shoulder to shoulder as they gather logs, when they visit their friends, when they are running away from pesky mobs. He feels the warmth from him, feels the way his body rises and falls with laughter and wheezes and indescribable sounds. He chirps too, startled as they run back to the safety of their walls. The night gets colder, their backs against the cold walls, catching their breaths quickly before they break off laughing. Jimmy says nothing as they walk inside, rubbing sore muscles and shaking off grass from their clothes. Before the lights go off, he glances at his grass-stained sleeves and the little pompom-looking little black mark in his pants with a very faint line that must have been a wiry tail. 

It leaves lasting marks. Jimmy swims up, breaking the surface of the water with gasp. He keeps his eyes closed as water drips from his hair, from his cold skin, and he feels his feathers sticking together. He cringes for another reason, however. When he opens his eyes, flashes of a dark sky appear before him. Black clouds and soot rain, embers dancing down directly into his lungs. There are patches of heat in his body, steaming up with every little movement, the water like sandy heat against his skin. With a blink, though, everything is gone. The sky is blue, the clouds are white, yet his body aches. Despite knowing, he looks down as he raises his arm, red and pink skin, ugly marks in the shape of a clawed-hand, licks of fire on too tender skin. He drops his arm back into the water, splashing his naked chest, and he feels it ever present. The mark of a shoulder against the right side of his collarbone, the length of an arm diagonal from his to his hip, a wire-like mark wrapped around his leg and his wrist, and he feels it all. Tango’s back against his chest, the anger, the rage of the moment in every reminder. It subsides eventually, only three more trips to the river. 

It changes more than he ever thought possible. Under the heat of the mesa, when he raises his hand to cover his eyes, squinting at the horizon. Warm. Hot. His clothes stick to his body with sweat, and his lungs burn with every inhale. The fire in the sky, the heat in the air, the burn of the sand. It all reminds him of someone, a certain someone who sinks boots into sand. Who kicks up sand, who leaves dust clouds in their path. Loud sounds, not even words, a full body tackle of heat. Of fire. Their bodies tangle up, and Jimmy loses his balance, quickly rolling on too hot sand. Red and oranges color his shirt, stain his clothes, he loses his hat somewhere in the excitement. His body aches as his lungs are crushed under weight, he feels it in every exhale, in every joint of his body, a lasso in place of a red string this time.

_____

if we all ignore the 3rd paragraph.... we can all be illiterate and happy together. on the other hand, i was going to dedicate more time because ranchers being clingy? sign me the fuck up. but... well... yeah. yeah. a proper clingy tango for next time i promise

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Crimson Tango: A Dance of Diamonds and Revenge Chapter 3: How Wonderful Life Is While You’re In the World✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: I hope you are enjoying our Moulin Rouge au that me and @mountainsandmayhem have created! Cheers to another chapter and please let us know how you liked it ❤️

Chapter Summary: Your feelings for Joel are growing faster than you imagined, but you have to deal with Terrance. The man you can’t stand to be alone with. Will Joel be able to save you or will you have to suffer alone while he watches helplessly?

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Word Count: 10.2k

Chapter Tags: Reader buys a new dress, mutual pining, feelings, smut, oral receiving (fem), secret date, angst, desire, longing, Joel teaches reader guitar, reader shows Joel how to dance, reader is a sex worker who’s put in a position from Terrance and his friends that involves nonconsensual touching so please read at your own risk

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Even though you’ve calmed down a bit, you practically stomp back to your room as your high heels dig deep into the floor. You’re feeling every single emotion that you can possibly feel right now. Obviously mad after the screaming match with your uncle, but also sad and scared about what you have to do with Terrance. Not scared in the way most would be, that some man they don’t know is about to own you and your body completely, but scared to lose Joel. That kiss is still burning on your lips and your body is aching for more of him. Worst of all, you’re scared for your heart. Your poor battered heart. You’ve ignored it for years, and right when you open it up it’s about to be absolutely obliterated.

When you open your bedroom door, you see Joel under your sink replacing the pipes. This might be your only chance to be alone with him again. A little voice inside your head tells you to be selfish, just this once. So you listen.

You saunter over to him and hover above him, one foot on each side of his body as you smirk down at him flirtatiously.

He turns his head slightly and smiles warmly as he sees you standing above him. “Whatcha doin’ up there, darlin’?” Joel asks, grunting as he tightens the pipes.

You slowly lower your knees to the ground, hiking the skirt of your dress up as you sink down to hover right above his lap. “I wasn’t expecting you,” you say seductively.

He glances out at you as his eyebrow raises high on his forehead. “I can’t, in good conscience, have you in a room without working water, baby.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” you giggle, “where did you even get the parts or -” You cock your head slightly to be able to see his face and wave your hand around under the sink.

His hand lightly circles your wrist and he moves it out from the cabinet chuckling slightly. “I’m working here, baby girl. There’s an empty room down the hall. I took them from there, and I’ll replace them tomorrow.”

You're silent for a while as you straighten your neck to look at the edge of your countertop. The bitter biting feeling floods your thoughts as no one has ever treated you like this, gone out of their way to fix something for you. But Joel does. He’s probably exhausted, but he’s here, happy to be here in fact, fixing something for you, so you can have basic comforts. Pushing his own comfort of sleep aside for you.

He puts the wrench down gently on the ground, keeping his eyes fixed on the pipes above him. “Everything okay out there?” he asks as he continues tightening the loose pipes.

You shouldn’t be doing this. You can’t be with him, but fuck you need him. You know he’d treat you properly, but you also know that as of tomorrow you belong to fucking Terrance. You bite your lip nervously and decide you can’t go the rest of your life not having this moment with Joel. He can’t possibly feel the same way you do, it’s illogical of you to say that you’re in love with a man you don’t even know yet. Joel seems level headed, he’ll just think he got a night like you give to everyone else. You wouldn’t even be surprised if he tried to pay you after.

You swirl your hips, just grazing against his hardening cock as you moan at the thought of having him. “Yes,” you whisper.

He sucks in a breath and moves his hands to your thighs as you feel his calloused fingers brush lightly over your exposed legs. “Careful, baby girl.”

You grind down harder, hands falling to the bottom of his shirt as you slide your fingers up along his soft, warm skin. You say his name with a moan. Joel lifts you slightly and slides his body down between your thighs.

“No,” you whine, already missing the feeling of his bulge pressing against your needy center.

Joel continues sliding down until his face is in line with your pussy. He looks up at you, his lust filled eyes blowing out as they meet yours.

Fuck, he’s beautiful.

“Don’t whine, darlin’. I got you, if that’s what you want.”

“Please, Joel.” It comes out airy and breathy, much needier than you intended. Your breaths are coming in rapidly as you cup one of your breasts in your hands, desperate for any sort of touch you can get.

Joel traces a thick finger up your inner thigh slowly as your body writhes with anticipation. “Sshhh, sweet girl. Relax.”

“I can’t,” you whine, your body twitching with every little touch he gives you. “Please Joel, I need you.”

Joel moves your skirt out of the way, his fingers finding the center of your wet panties, lightly tracing up and down your slit. The fabric is soaked and his touch is causing more slick to build between your thighs. Joel is growing painfully hard, the zipper of his work pants pressing into his cock that’s already fully hard for you. Joel Miller is a lover though, and that’s exactly what he plans to do. To love you, to show you just how a man should treat someone as beautiful as you.

“Relax,” he says with encouragement. “You can do it. Take a deep breath, baby.”

He continues his ministrations, adding just a bit more pressure as he slides his thumb against your aching clit. You cry out with a plea and then follow along with what he says. You close your eyes and take a slow, deep inhale, releasing your breath as everything seems to go quiet around you. You don’t have a single thought or any emotion, there’s nothing in this room aside from you and Joel but thick tension that sits in the air. As the trembling in your body slows, you soften around him, letting out a deep moan that seems to set you on fire.

“That’s my girl,” Joel praises.

You smile a look down at him, just able to see his blown out pupils from in between your thighs. You take another breath while holding his gaze, seeing his amber eyes start to glaze over into deep black pits. You’ve never been looked at quite like that before. It’s not lust, it’s something much, much more. You return the look at him, biting the inside of your cheek to stop a smile from breaking the surface.

“Darlin’?” Joel asks, his voice deeper now, more sensual.

“Yeah?”

“Grab onto the edge of the sink with both your hands.”

You keep eye contact, raising one eyebrow before reaching up and wrapping both hands around the sink. The steel of the sink is cold, it only helps draw you deeper into the heat of Joel’s body, his mouth just a hair away from your clothed core. Your panties are soaked through with your arousal after he teased you with his finger.

“Good girl,” he growls. The heat of his breath hits your clit and you cry out just a little, hips bucking towards his face as your clit drags against the edge of his hooked nose, causing you to cry out again in awe. You manage to regain your composure, Joel’s thumb hooking your panties and pulling them to the side hurriedly. “So gorgeous, baby. You tell me if you want me to stop, got it?”

“Oh my God, Yes. Yes, just please - please, I need it.”

“I’m gonna give it to ya, darlin’. Hold on tight,” he instructs with a deep growl.

Joel dives in like you’re his oxygen and he’s fucking drowning in your air. He has always liked doing this, making women feel good with his experienced tongue. It feels sensual and intimate to get to see someone like this, to have them trust him like this. But with you, he really fucking loves it. The feel and taste of your sweet arousal on his tongue is euphoric to him, angelic. If he was on death row, he’d ask for this for his very last meal.

You cry out loudly as his tongue expertly teases your clit, alternating between tight circles with the tip of his tongue to long, flat licks. Your arousal leaks down his throat, and he swallows you down eagerly as he tastes the honey-like flavor hit his tastebuds. He moans loudly as he licks and licks, sending warm sparks up your lower regions.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you repeat his name over and over like a holy prayer, and your orgasm builds faster than you thought possible. He pulls away for a second, bringing two thick fingers up to your wet folds as he slides them back and forth slowly. He moves them up and down teasingly, coating his fingers with your sweet juices.

“Can I put my fingers inside of you, baby girl?” His voice is full of lust. Hot, hungry, needy.

“Yes,” you say quickly, “yes, please, Mr. Miller.”

“Let me hear you say it,” he instructs, his deep breath coming out scratchy and so fucking hot.

You bite your bottom lip as you taste your cherry flavored chapstick. You’re good at teasing men, doing things for them, but not for you. And now Joel wants you tell him what you want, and it shouldn’t be so fucking hard.

“You can do it, just say the words.” His fingers are still lazily running along you, slowly teasing as he makes more slick run down your center.

“I - I want…” your cheeks flush and you throw your head back in mere frustration. Why the fuck can’t you just ask for what you want? Why was that so difficult for you?

Joel can sense your frustration, or perhaps discomfort with the situation. He stops what he’s doing and softly says, “Hey, look at me, baby.” When you look down his face is soft, big brown eyes staring up at you. “You don’t have to say it if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m sorry if I pushed you, but you don’t have to hold back from me. Anything you want, ask. Ask and I’ll do it.”

You swallow hard. You’re in love, so very out of this world in love, and this is your only chance to do something about it. You can’t spend the rest of your life with Terrance regretting not saying a few simple words. You have to do this. Say it.

Your eyes dance around Joel’s face before you whisper, “I want your fingers, please. I need them inside of me.”

Joel lets out a deep moan and growls, fuuuuuuck.

He latches his mouth to your clit again, gently pushing his index finger into the sensitive entrance of your needy pussy as you writhe in pleasure. He pushes his fingertips slowly in and out a few times before pushing it all the way in, hooking his fingers up into that spongy area that sends you gasping for breath. You moan loudly, one hand falling from the sink to grab his tousled curls. The second you make contact with his head everything stops - his fingers are gone, mouth pulled off your clit with a loud pop.

“No!” you cry, needing him to continue as your insides ache for him.

“I said to grab onto the edge of the sink with both hands,” he demands, his eyes narrowing up at you.

You shakily move your hands back to the sink.

“Be my good girl and keep them there, understand?” The lust filling his eyes and deep gravel in his voice are almost enough to make you come.

“Yes,” you coo, leaning forward to get closer to his mouth.

“You let go, and I’ll stop.”

Your back arches more, trying desperately to get the attention that you think you might die without. Joel moves in again, lapping at your clit before sliding two fingers all the way inside you. You're tight and warm around his fingers and he has to remind himself to slow down, be gentle with you. He wants you to savor it just as much as he wants to savor you.

He curls his fingers inside you and he feels your pussy flutter slightly, he knows you're close. You squeeze your eyes tightly, gripping the edge of the sink like it’s the only thing keeping you alive.

“There she goes,” he says, “let me see it, baby.”

Your moans turn desperate, but you aren’t sure what you’re more desperate for. If you come he’s going to stop, you aren’t sure if you want him to stop, but fuck do you need to come. Your walls start to flutter around Joel’s fingers again, feeling that warm sensation building in your spine.

“Show me,” he praises, “be my good girl.”

That’s what does it, the sparks in your belly radiate out to every limb. The waves of pleasure weaken all your muscles. You feel your arms giving out, but there’s no way you’re going to let go of that sink. Screams and moans fill your room, “F-fuck, Joel. Oh, fuck.”

He praises you as you shamelessly grind your hips down onto his face. “You’re so fucking perfect. Take it, baby girl.”

Before the pleasure becomes overstimulating, Joel slows his fingers inside you and pulls his tongue away from your swollen bundle of nerves. He works his fingers slowly, placing an occasional light kiss to your pussy and slowly you start to come back down to earth.

You’re trying to catch your breath as Joel slides out from under you and then scoops you up into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, breathing him in as he walks you towards your bed. He places you down gently, one of his big hands coming to cup behind your head until it lands softly on your pillow, and he covers you with a soft fleece blanket. No one has ever tucked you in before, at least not that you can remember. A simple act, filled with so much love and tenderness. You reach out for Joels hand, and he doesn’t hesitate to grab onto you.

“Stay,” you whisper, suddenly desperate for his warmth.

“I’ll get fired, darlin’,” he whispers sadly, sitting down on the edge of your bed carefully. You roll onto your side and move close to him, reaching one of your arms out as you grab onto his wrist.

“Stay,” you repeat again, your eyelids starting to become heavier as the weight of your orgasm takes its toll on you.

He places a light kiss on your temple and whispers gently, “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

You melt into his kiss, lips tasting like coffee and sunshine. “Will you come back tomorrow?”

He brushes your hair back, and one finger trails down the bridge of your nose lightly. You close your eyes, a little smile lifting your lips. “I would love that, baby girl. You can teach me how to use that pottery wheel.”

A small ‘okay’ leaves your lips as he kisses your forehead again. “Go to sleep, my love.” And so you do, drifting off to sleep with the brush of his calloused fingers running along your upper arm and his smooth lips trailing kisses against your cheekbone.

You wake up to sunshine on your skin and the feeling of fresh slick between your legs. Dreams of Joel invaded your sleep last night, and all you could think of was his warm tongue sliding up and down your drenched center. You blush at the images that paint your mind and look over to the other side of your bed. You frown when you realize Joel isn’t here, but he did stay till you fell asleep. You wish he could’ve stayed the entire night, holding you in his strong arms, drinking up his mahogany scent that haunts your memories. You want him here, need him here, but he said he couldn’t stay. He said he’d be fired.

Why would he be fired? Your uncle said you could have anything. And you want Joel. You want him. He couldn’t be fired, he wouldn’t be. Unless…. unless your uncle gave him strict orders that he couldn’t touch the dancers, that he couldn’t touch you. Would your uncle really do that? You’re starting to realize he would.

A light knock on the door shakes you out of bed, and you pull on a long pink robe and tie it in a tight bow. You pace over to your large door and open it up to find your uncle leaning up against the doorway with a huge grin on his face. He barges right in and brushes past your shoulder as you close the door behind him and turn his direction.

“Today’s the day, petal!” he almost yells as his green eyes beam down at you with a stupid grin that takes over his wrinkled features.

“Today’s the day?” you ask confused, then suddenly realize what he’s so jolly about.

“Terrance! Remember? He’s going to be here this evening, and he expects to see you,” he replies, eyes gazing into yours as you nearly revolt against his wishes.

“Oh, right…” you say quietly as the weight of his words settle in on you. Maybe when you’re eighteen, you can join them. The words make you sick, make you want to push him in the chest and tell him no. You want to scream, throw your lit up lamp across the room and watch the glass shatter into a million pieces, but you can’t. You can’t.

Your uncle places his hand under your chin and lifts your eyes up to his. “Now, now. Don’t be like that, petal. He’s paying us well. The Moulin Rouge is saved. We don’t have to worry anymore,” he encourages as he smiles down at you with enthusiasm spilling over his tongue.

He’s paying us well. The words sound like long nails running down a rusted chalkboard, filling the room with a deafening noise as you cringe at the words. He was not the one being sold to Terrance, you were. You were the one that had to entertain this man for God knows how long. It was you that had to pretend, not your uncle.

“He’ll be here around 7:00pm sharp. I want you down there no later than that, understand?” he asks as he looks over you slowly, making sure you don’t make a fuss.

“I’ll be there, uncle. If I must,” you say with a slight huff, trying to keep your spirits up for him.

“Here,” he hands you a crisp one hundred dollar bill and places it in your hand as the material crinkles together under your touch. “Go buy yourself something nice. Maybe a pretty dress for Terrance. His favorite color is red.” He places a light kiss to your forehead then pads off to the door, leaving the room feeling hollow and empty as his footsteps trail down the hallway. You stand there gawking at his vacant shadow.

Go buy yourself something nice? His favorite color is red? Who the fuck does he think he is?

The words make you feel cheap, the money makes you feel used, dirty. You don’t want the money. You want to run out of the room and throw it back at him, make him regret ever selling you to a rich prick who only wants you for your body. You don’t want to fucking do this anymore! But what choice do you have? The deal had already been made…

You throw your hand out and hit the wall hard as pain radiates down your arm like fire running through your nerves. You wince and shake it out, letting the pain simmer away as you walk into your lit up pink bathroom and run the shower water, staring at yourself in the mirror until your face is lost in fog. How poetic, you think to yourself.

You peel off your robe and let it land in a heap on the floor, stepping into the heat as you let the scalding water cascade down your porcelain skin, washing away the scent of regret and anger. You lather the shampoo through your long locks, run the citrus soap over the entirety of your body until it drowns you, rinsing it off as you watch it run down the drain in swirling colors brighter than your own future.

After sulking in the shower for nearly half an hour, you dry your body off with a fleece towel and throw on a soft pretty flamingo colored dress. You dry and curl your hair, applying red lipstick to your soft lips and mascara to your long lashes.

You take a second to look at yourself in the mirror, examining every feature as you see sadness in the soft glow of your eyes, holding back tears as you hold your chin up and wipe away a distant tear. Time for you to take a walk.

You close up your room as you shove the hundred dollar bill into your scarlet purse, feeling dirty for even having it in your grasp. You shake your head and walk down the lit up halls of the Moulin Rouge, passing some dancers as you saunter out the front doors and into the sunlight.

You let the glow of the sun warm your cold soul, let it fill you with ease as you walk down the crowded streets to one of your favorite dress shops. As soon as you step in, you’re met with a busy seamstress and a batch of dresses that hang loosely over manicans and display on long hangers.

“Anything I can help you find, miss?” the petite blonde asks as you enter the store.

“Just looking around for the moment,” you say as you gaze around at all the colorful, fancy dresses.

“Just let me know if you need anything,” she says as she turns back to the cash register.

You pace around the room, trailing your hand on various types of fabrics as you circle the large shop. The colors go from deep purples to ombré to bright shades of yellow. Almost any color you can imagine fills the room, giving you a ton to choose from. It’s almost overwhelming.

You see a long, luxurious dress that sits in the middle of the room. It’s a deep crimson color, one that Terrance would probably kill to see you in. You roll your eyes and walk past it, you’re not getting that one.

You look through the rack of dresses, assessing each one as none of them stick out at you. You’re about to give up when you turn and see a deep blue colored dress that sits displayed behind a hidden curtain. You pull it back and gasp at the beautiful dress that seems to call your name.

The dress is as blue as the depths of the sea, the fabric of the skirt reaching the floor as a long slit divides the left corner of the dress, leaving an opening to show off your long legs in. It’s sleeveless, and the material making up the low cut front shimmers against the glistening sun. It’s absolutely perfect. You think Joel might love this, might run his fingers up the slit to feel the smooth skin of your leg, might lose his voice while he mulls over how it fits your curves, might want to rip it off you so he can see what’s underneath…

Without another thought you take the dress to the counter, taking out what feels like hush money and pay for the dress. The dressmaker wraps it in a nice box for you, and you grab the handle and step out into the sunshine. You know you should go back, but the walk here helped clear your mind and you aren’t ready to go back and face your future quite yet. You spin the opposite direction of the Moulin Rouge and come face to face with the one man you want nothing more than to be with. Joel.

“Hi,” he says, blushing slightly.

You bite your cheek to stop from smiling, he’s so fucking beautiful that it almost hurts. “Hi.”

“Whatcha got there?” he asks, nodding towards the box in your arms.

“Oh no no, the Sparkling Diamond never reveals her secrets,” you smirk, curling your red lips up into a playful smile.

“I’ll tell you a secret of mine if you let me peek in that box.”

You stare at him for a second contemplating. Joel Miller is definitely flirting with you.

“You go first,” you say with a giggle.

He steps into you, placing his large palm on the small of your back, his lips close to your ear and whispers, “You were beautiful coming apart on my tongue last night.”

You feel your cheeks and chest redden at his confession, and your clit twitches with the memory of how he felt lapping at your center. You’ve had all sorts of sexual experiences before, but he seemed to know exactly where to touch you without any help. That was the first time in a long time that you didn’t feel like you were going to have to fake an orgasm.

He steps back and taps the box, and you generously open it a little as his eyes widen. “Wow, that's, wow.”

You smile to yourself triumphantly. He’s already speechless, and it’s still in the box. “What are you doing here?”

“I just live right over there,” he says as he points to an old brick building. “I was running some errands before my shift tonight.”

“You’re coming to see me after, right?” you ask shyly, fluttering your long eyelashes up at him. He seems to melt at the weight of your eyes.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, darlin’,” he replies, lowering his voice and adds, “especially if you’re going to be in that fucking dress.”

You gasp at his words. That fucking dress. “Guess you’re going to have to come find me to find out then,” you wink, flashing him your best smile. He smiles back, and it sends warmth flooding through your lower regions.

“You busy now? I could show you my place, if you’d like,” he says shyly, running a hand through his tousled curls as crimson flashes across his cheeks.

He’s so fucking beautiful.

You flick your eyes up to the tall brick building and contemplate your options. You want to, you really want to, but you can’t. You need to get back to the Moulin Rouge and get ready to meet your awful date.

You sigh and shake your head sadly. “I’d love to, Joel. I really would, but I have to get back. I have a busy day.” You see his Adam’s Apple bob up and down, and you want so badly to run your fingers through his hair and press your lips up against his. Sooth him over. Not here though. Not where your uncle or Terrance could see.

“Another time then?” Joel asks with a hopeful glance your way.

You nod in response. “Another time.”

He grazes his hand against yours and discreetly entwines his fingers with yours. It feels so good, so safe, so right. You can’t wait till the night is over, until you can be in Joel’s arms again. That’s where you belong, where you want to be.

You slowly squeeze his hand and then let go, letting your fingers fall to your side against your silky dress. “I need to go. I’ll see you tonight, handsome.”

“Tonight,” he promises. With that you turn and go back to your demise, to the Moulin Rouge.

Joel arrives at the burlesque twenty minutes before his shift. He sneaks in the back door and tucks his guitar away in the maintenance closet and then goes to find Edward. He finds him at the front, in the same pressed, crisp suit from last night. He’s greeting men with enthusiastic handshakes and seems happier overall tonight.

“Joel!” He calls from across the hall, “great to see you, son.”

Joel gives him a tight lipped smile, stuffing his hands in his pockets and heading over to Edward. The men who turned their noses up to him the other night glare sideways at him. He still can’t believe that he’s considered the scum in this place.

“We are using the VIP area tonight after the Sparkling Diamond performs. It hasn’t been used in a while. Can you go up there and check the lighting, make sure the tables and chairs are set up? Also need someone to help the bartender bring up everything.”

His throat tightens at the thought of you having to be up in that room with some of these men. He replies through gritted teeth, “Of course, sir.”

He wanders up one of the spiral staircases off the main dance floor, men clamouring around trying to get the best seat before the girls come out for them to grab at. The VIP area overlooks the burlesque, there’s a private booth along the back with a curtain that the guests can draw closed. Bile rises in his throat at the thought of you being back there, but he knows what you do for work, and even though he knows that he’s madly and wildly in love with you. But it doesn’t mean that you feel the same way. You invited him over tonight, you sat on his lap last night, so he’ll take this at your speed and maybe one day he can get you out of here.

The two tables along the shiny black railing have chairs tipped up on them, so he flips them and places them on the ground neatly. He tests to make sure the tables aren’t wobbly before moving over to the private bar and picking up a knocked over stool.

“Are there any thirsty gents out there tonight?” Edward’s voice booms over the burlesque. Men cheer and whoop in anticipation. “Get ready boys, a little teaser with the Diamonds before your - err umm - the Sparkling Diamond comes out.”

A bartender comes up with a big box full of glasses and alcohol. “Thanks umm…”

“Joel,” he says.

The bartender reaches out his hand and they shake. “Pierre. Thanks for this. Terrance is gonna be up here soon though so you better go.”

“Yeah, the light above the booth is out so I’m gonna change that.”

Pierre laughs to himself, “I wouldn’t bother man. I’m sure whatever woman he takes in there will want it to be dark.”

Terrance, who the fuck is Terrance?

Joel heads down to the main hall when he hears there’s an issue in one of the bathrooms. He sighs and then races off to assess the damage.

You slip the silky blue dress over your body and then slide your feet into sparkly high heeled shoes. The bedazzled strap of the shoe goes up your strong calf, and even though you’re nervous and shaky at the thought of being alone with Terrance in the VIP area tonight, you’ve never felt stronger or sexier than you do in this look. Joel’s flirtations from earlier wash over you and make heat rise in your cheeks. As long as you’re wearing that fucking dress.

You’re not looking forward to Joel seeing you with him tonight. Maybe you should have told him, but you’re just not ready for your time with him to be up yet. Just the thought of not getting him to your room again feels like someone is clamping clothespins along your insides as pain starts burning there.

You slide on some red lipstick and flick your eyeliner out in black sharp lines. As soon as you put the eyeliner down you hear your uncle’s booming voice on the microphone, asking the men to call you to the stage. You take one last look at yourself in the mirror, but you don’t recognize yourself anymore. This painted woman, not even a name or a face on the other side of that curtain. But in your room with Joel, you’re his person. Someone he wants to cherish and care for. You’d do anything for him to feel the same way and take you away from here. Maybe one day he would.

The band starts your music slowly and you act almost robotic as you take the stage, a puppet on a tight string where the men call all the shots. You practically disassociate, letting muscle memory take over as you start to move. It brings you to the stage, pulling you into the bright lights of the large room as the men stand and wait. You point and flirt, spin and tease the men with the long slit up your leg, exposing soft skin that the men practically claw at. You bend and push your cleavage together towards the faceless men in the audience, hating that you have to do this night after night.

After your music ends, your uncle comes out with the other Diamonds. “This little petal is spoken for tonight, gents,” he calls. They groan as their hopes and dreams of getting alone time with you fly out the window. You can’t believe there was a time when that made you feel good about yourself, now it makes you feel cheap and used. “But I have some lonely Diamonds that could use some polishing, if you know what I mean,” he says with a wink as the men cheer at his announcement, already reaching for the other dancers.

Your uncle leads you off the lit up stage and pushes you towards the spiral staircase. “Make him happy, petal.” You groan as you climb the winding staircase, dreading what you know is about to come.

You didn’t look up during your performance once, not that you would have been able to see with the bright lights shining in your eyes, but when you reach the balcony you’re shocked to see Terrance with five of his friends. They whistle and catcall as you appear, and you feel hot bile rise in your throat.

“There you are. Gents, this is my girl. Give them a little spin,” he says with a greasy grin. You spin slowly, one of the men grabbing at your ass when your back is to them. You cringe at the unwelcome hands as they claw at your dress.

“Hey, hands off,” Terrance growls. For a second you’re grateful for him, until he opens his mouth again. “Unless you wanna pay me for her.”

His small, cold hand wraps around your wrist and he pulls you over to sit on his lap. His leg is bony and uncomfortable, but he pins you to him. The men order more bourbon and talk while your mind wanders to Joel. He doesn’t have bony legs, no. They’re thick and muscular, filling out his work jeans nicely. You find your eyes scanning the Moulin Rouge looking for him. You need to see him, you need that reminder of what you have to live for.

That dreadful feeling hits you again, weighing you down as cold air floods your insides. You don’t want to do this anymore.

After what feels like hours, you finally see Joel coming out of the men’s bathroom with his metal toolbox in hand. You look away from him, scared that your gaze might somehow attract his, and you can’t bear the chance of seeing any sort of hurt in his eyes that you might be causing him right now.

The men around you have gotten increasingly more drunk and sloppy, hands reaching for you clumsily. Terrance’s hand roams up the bodice of your dress, and your stomach clenches as you feel a heavy weight in your chest start to burn. He grazes your breast slightly before pushing your hair out of the way and places a wet, slobbery kiss to the back of your shoulder. You swallow hard, fighting the urge to retch.

“So, we can pay you then?” One of them asks Terrance. They’re talking like you’re not even here, like you’re mute and unable to do anything of your own free will.

“I don’t like to share what’s mine, but look at her.” His hand comes back to your breast and squeezes hard, making you bite down on your tongue as you taste blood run down the back of your throat.

“Let me see her, decide if I want to get out my checkbook or not,” another one says raspily.

Terrance tries to lift you up off him. You stand begrudgingly as he shoves you towards his friend. The other man gropes at your waist and pulls you roughly into him. You stumble, ripping the skirt of your dress as you fall into his lap. You let out a little squeal at the impact, the slit of your dress falling open to expose your upper thigh.

“I think she likes it,” he laughs, one of his hands grabbing a lock of your hair as he takes a strong whiff of your citrus shampoo. The other lands on your soft milky thigh as he adds, “You definitely picked the best whore in the house, Terrance.” Whore. The word makes you tense up and makes you feel completely disgusting. He goes to cup your breast and slowly slides the top of the dress down, exposing your breast completely as he kneads at it while the other men howl like wild dogs.

You feel the sting of tears in your eyes, feel one roll coldly down your cheek as it splashes against the wooden floor. Terrance just sits there, marveling at your body as he watches his friend ravish your bare skin. You try to get up, but he holds you down. “Where do you think you’re going, gorgeous? We paid for you, don’t think you’re going anywhere else tonight,” he smirks, his lips running hastily down your neck as you cringe away from him.

“Alright now, that’s enough. Give her back now,” Terrance demands as he yanks you off his friend and sits you back in his lap. Now it’s his turn to pry his cold hands over your body.

He slides his hand up to cup your exposed breast, softly kissing your earlobe while his wet mustache tickles your skin. One of his other friends bends down and picks up your leg where the torn slit sits, running his hand up your exposed thigh. A second friend grabs your other leg, parting your thighs and exposing your lacy panties. You freeze, there’s no stopping it, this is what you must do to save the Moulin Rouge, so you just sit there and take it, letting another hot tear run down your face as it lands with a splash on your ruined blue dress.

Maybe when you’re eighteen you can join them.

The room seems to blur as your wet eyes gaze at the ceiling, looking anywhere but at the men that take and take and take from you without any say from you.

Joel… Save me…

Joel's eyes scan the crowded room, looking past flirtatious dancers as they flock around handsy men in expensive suits. When he doesn’t find you anywhere on the dance floor, he lifts his eyes slowly to the balcony, praying he won’t see you in that dark booth. His gaze stops cold as he sees just what’s happening. You are in the booth and there are six men feasting their eyes and hands on you, devouring you up as they take and take and take from you without any remorse on their sly faces.

He sees the way you close your eyes and look away, sees the hot tears that roll down your face as they paint the front of your dress wet. Something in the depths of his stomach snaps. Pure red hot rage blinds him as he drops the heavy toolbox on the ground, grabbing the hammer and clutching it tightly in his fist like a drawn weapon. He squeezes the metal handle as he flares his nostrils and clenches his jaw, snarling his teeth so tight that he swears he’s about to break them. He’s going to fucking kill every single man up there that has their grimy hands on you. He’s going to destroy every last one of them.

He takes one step forward and feels a hand pull him back into the shadows. He turns around as fast as lightning and finds one of the dancers shaking her head at him. “Leave it alone, Joel. Do not go up there and bother them,” she warns with red matte lips and purple eyeshadow that cakes over green eyes.

“What do you mean don’t go up there? Look at her, she’s crying and looks like she wants to die!” he yells, anger seething him as he looks back up to see your eyes open, staring at him as if you’re screaming for him to come save you.

He parts his lips and furrows his eyebrows together, watching the man who’s beneath you kiss down your neck with a sloppy tongue while his other hand kneads your exposed breast. It makes Joel sick, makes his hand tighten around the hammer that much more as he takes another heavy step forward.

The dancer stops him once again. “You don’t want to do that, Joel. That’s Terrance.”

Terrance. Ah. That’s who that fucking is. He wants to murder Terrance slowly and painfully, make him suffer for everything he’s done to his girl.

“Who the fuck is Terrance?” Joel growls as his teeth gnash together.

“Terrance is filthy rich. A powerful man you don’t want to cross. He’s given this place a lot of money, invested a ton in the Sparkling Diamond. Do not fuck this up, Joel. Leave it alone. Leave her alone,” she warns.

Leave her alone? He can’t, he won’t.

“Fuck that, I’m going to make him pay,” he growls.

“Joel!” She says his name loud and firm, digging her long nails into the skin of his wrist. He has no choice but to turn and look at her.

“Look, I can see what’s going on. I see the way you look at her. I saw the smile on your face last night when I caught you leaving her room. You need to be more careful. You’re not supposed to be seeing her, remember? If Edward were to find out you’d be…”

He cuts her off before she can finish her sentence. “What, fired? Don’t you think I know that? Do you think I don’t think about that every fucking minute of the day? But you know what? I don’t care anymore. Because I… fuck, I think I fucking love her.”

The words hang heavily between them before he continues. “No, I know I do. I love her, and if you want to tell Edward then be my guest. I’ll somehow manage without the job, but I can’t manage without her.” He points up to the balcony to make a strong statement and watches as you keep your eyes fixed on him. You need him. You need him.

“Joel…” the dancer says quietly. “I’m not going to tell Edward. She’s basically a daughter to me, and I hate what’s happening up there just as much as you. Just please, be careful. Watch your back and don’t get yourself caught. I’d hate to see what would happen if you did,” she says sadly, eyes gazing back up at you as Joel’s eyes follow.

They watch together as you get torn to shreds, your beautiful dress absolutely ruined by those starving pigs. Joel can’t remember ever being this angry, so very angry. He feels hot lava run through his veins, feels his lip quiver as he watches defenseless. He can’t save you right now and that alone kills him the most.

You nod slowly at him, eyes still wet with tears, but you tug a small smile on your face and mouth ‘it’s okay’ to him. But it’s not okay, it’s just fucking not.

His hand clenches around the base of the hammer, and he has to steady himself as he feels anger, sadness, and helplessness wash over him. He can’t do anything right now which makes him feel like he’s fucking drowning underwater. He hates this, hates you having to sit there and take it. He can’t watch anymore. It’s too much, this is too much. He bends over and picks up the heavy toolbox again and takes one more glance in your direction, eyes locking for a few seconds before he turns the opposite way and heads down the hall.

“I can’t watch this anymore, just tell me when it’s over,” he sighs as he leaves the dancer’s side and trudges down the dim lit hall, away from the men that paw you like starving animals. He can’t do this. He can’t do this. Not when he loves you so goddamn much. It kills him, this kills him. So he decides to go drown himself in work just so he won’t have to see it anymore, won’t have to see your pleading eyes as they stare at him helplessly, begging him to rescue you.

You sigh when you see Joel disappear down the hall, almost cry out his name as they continue to bleed you dry. You need him. You need him.

Come save me, Joel. Come back, come back.

Another hot tear falls and splashes to the floor as you turn your head back to the men as they have their fun with you. This isn’t worth the money, this isn’t worth anything. You’d rather be standing out on the streets than be ravished by disgusting men. You’d rather be with Joel in your room, getting lost in his velvety lips and soft brown eyes. After this you would, after this he’d be yours. You just had to hold on a little longer, give these men what they desired most, which was you. You just hoped Joel still wanted you after seeing you like this…

“More bourbon!” Terrance calls to the bartender as he watches his friends do vile things to your partially naked body.

“Sorry, sir, but we appear to be out.” The bartender says sheepishly.

The men groan, one of them saying, “Let’s go then gents.” Terrance and his disgusting friends grumble about the horrible service and leave you laying there, exposed and raw on the seating of the dark booth. Your body is slick with your own nervous sweat, as well as the clammy sweat of those men's hands and only God knows what else.

“Come on, kid.” The bartender says, helping you up and wrapping you in a silky red table cloth. “Let me take you to Edward.”

“No,” you breathe out, shaking your head quickly. He's just as responsible for this as Terrance. You want to be alone or with Joel, not around money starved pigs. “I’ll get myself to my room, thanks.”

You walk quietly across the balcony, feeling like your legs will give out at any minute. You place your shaky hand against the stair rail and descend the curvy staircase. You see the men downstairs staring up at you, feel their eyes devour you as they see you wrapped in the red tablecloth. You know what they think of you, know what they’d like to do to you as well. You just gulp down a whimpered breath and continue on to your room, ignoring every catcall and question thrown your way. You just want to be alone, to be away from all this loud madness. You want Joel, need him like you need air to breathe.

When you open your heavy door, Joel is already there. Sitting at the small bistro kitchen table, elbows propped against the edge with his head resting heavily in his hands. You swallow loudly and clear your throat carefully. “I’m sorry,” you apologize quietly, fidgeting with the red tablecloth that wraps around your shoulders.

Joel’s head whips up fast, tears running down his face as his wide eyes lock on yours. “How? Why? I - I thought you weren’t… I didn’t know you were entertaining other men.” He looks so sad. So very sad, and it nearly shatters your heart into pieces.

“It’s complicated,” you say as you stare at the floor, tightening the table cloth around your body a little more.

“Don’t do that, don’t shut yourself off to me.” Joel gets up and walks over to you slowly, lifting your chin to meet his gaze. Your mascara is smudged, lipstick stained across your chin, and you’re sure your hair is a mess. “I’m not blaming you, just please tell me how this happened?”

You wet your lips nervously as he continues staring at you intently. It’s almost overwhelming when he’s looking at you the way he is now. All soft and concerned. The wet trails down his cheeks feel like a hot stake to your heart. “Edward sold me,” you whisper sadly.

“What?” he gasps, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“He sold me,” you repeat as shame crosses your face.

“Why would he do that? Why!” His voice is angry, hurt. He doesn’t understand, so you’ll have to tell him everything.

As you tell Joel everything that happened the other night he leads you to your kitchen, pushing back a chair as he sits you down slowly. He crouches in front of you, rubbing his warm palms over your chilled skin, and it feels good. So good.

“That’s,” he breathes out in disbelief, “that’s awful. I’m so sorry, baby. You don’t deserve this, being treated like this by your boss.”

“My uncle,” you correct, eyes dancing along his concerned face.

“What?” this time it’s not a gasp, it’s anger. Pure wretched anger. “Edward is your uncle? Your uncle sold you? Your own family, someone who is supposed to protect you, sold you!” he asks angrily, eyes darkening as his nostrils flare uncontrollably.

He stands and starts pacing around your room, clenching his fists beside him as he can barely keep the anger in any longer. He’s going to fucking murder him, too.

“Please calm down, Joel.”

“Calm down? Calm down! This is vile. Cruel. Abhorrent. This is, there’s no words for what this is!” He’s raising his voice, and you start to feel yourself putting up your walls again as you jump onto the defense.

“Why did you even come here tonight if you’re just going to yell at me?” you ask shakily, standing up and dropping the table cloth to the floor as you expose your torn blue dress. The skirt of your dress is almost fully detached from the bottom of your hips and wet patches of spilled bourbon stick uncomfortably against your skin. His eyes widen as he takes in the torn dress, eyes turning to sadness as he sees the beautiful material ripped to shreds.

“I’m not yelling at you. I’m just,” he pauses, running his hand over his patchy scruff in frustration, the other falling to his side defeatedly. “I think I’m - well I…” He stops his sentence and drags his eyes over your ruined dress. “Baby, your dress…” he says quietly, eyebrows knitting together in full concern.

You lower your eyes and run your hands over the torn material of silk, see the way the sparkly material hangs like a ripped up washrag. This was your favorite dress, too…

“I know, I know. They just couldn’t help themselves, could they?” Your eyes flash up to his, and you see sorrow in them as soft brown eyes search yours carefully.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You sure did look beautiful in it, too. So very beautiful. My Sparkling Diamond…”

Both his hands fall to his hips as you walk over to him. You need to know what he was about to say before he changed the subject. Save me, tell me you love me, you think to yourself. “What were you going to say to me, Joel? You stopped your sentence,” you coo, eyes flicking up to his softly. Finish what you were going to say.

“Nothing. It’s not your fault, I don’t want to make you feel that way.”

“This can be our space, Joel. What happened tonight is part of my job, but I can endure all of that if it means that we get this. Can you?”

He looks at you carefully, weighing his options. But it doesn’t take him long before he pulls you into his arms, one hand landing on your lower back as the other cradles the back of your skull. You relax into his touch, sinking all your weight into him. You you can endure anything as long as it brings you back here. To Joel. To the man that you are sure loves you just as much as you love him, even if neither of you have dared to say the words yet. You know. This is it for you, Terrance or not, this is where you belong.

“Yes, darlin’. Even if it kills me to see it, I’ll always be here for you.” He presses his lips to the top of your head. “Go take a shower, baby. I’ll be right here waiting. I brought my guitar if you want to play?” he asks with hope in his large brown eyes.

You smile into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist tighter. “I don’t really know how. I only managed to learn a little…” you say quietly.

He laughs a little and pulls back to look into your eyes. “You have a guitar in the corner of your room,” he chuckles softly.

“I know,” you say, laughing back at him, “I want to learn more. Will you teach me?”

He lowers his head to press his lips gently to yours. “Go shower and I’ll teach ya.”

“Alright.” You brush past his hand and feel the warm heat inside you as you walk away towards your lit up bathroom with beads of pearls strewn across your wide mirror. You turn back to see him watching you, and you smile shyly as you close the door and disappear from his view.

You unzip your torn to shreds dress and let it fall in a heap on the ground, climbing into the shower as you let the warm heat rinse away the taste of regret on your sweaty skin. You take the dusty pink washcloth and soak your skin with vanilla soap. Making sure to scrub off every inch of bourbon and dirty fingerprints that those nasty men had left on you.

You watch the dirt fall down the drain, feel your skin come back to life as the clean skin seems to glow. This is how you’re supposed to feel, not like how you felt up there on the balcony with those savages. You felt used, like a dirty ragdoll that they could do whatever they wanted with you, but you wouldn’t let them do it again. You’d rather ruin your chances with Terrance and watch the Moulin Rouge fall apart than be back up in that dark booth again where no one could save you. Where your silent screams couldn’t be heard.

When you finish with your shower, you cut off the water and dry off quickly, wrapping a pink silky robe around yourself as you comb through your curls and put on fresh red lipstick. You pucker your lips together and spray a dash of sweet smelling perfume on your neck. As you take one more look at yourself, you pull the sliding doors open and walk back into the room to find Joel sitting on the window seat by the open balcony strumming along softly on his guitar.

You watch the way his thick fingers graze gently along each string, watch him hum to the beat of the song he plays quietly. He looks so good, so beautiful sitting there in the moonlight with his tousled curls falling gently over his eyes. You think you see heaven in those soft brown eyes of his, think you see the man you want to spend forever with.

When you pad across the wooden floors, he looks up slowly and smiles at you as his lips curl into an infectious grin. “There’s my girl. C’mere.” He curls his index finger toward him and coaxes you to follow. You do so without hesitation.

When you make it over to him, he puts his guitar to the side and spreads his thighs to make room for you. As you turn around, he pulls you up against his broad chest and places the guitar in your hands, hooking his arms around you as he puts his hands gently over yours and guides them to the strings. Your breath hitches at the contact.

“Is this okay, baby?” he asks. You nod your head before he continues. “Let me take you through all the basic chords, then I can show you a simple song or two.”

He grazes his calloused fingers over yours and slowly takes you through each cord, careful to explain each note and how to be gentle with it. It doesn’t take you long to pick up on what he shows you and takes less time to actually teach you the first song.

“Alright, go slow,” he instructs, keeping his hands on yours as he talks you through the notes. “Yeah, just like that. There ya go. Doin’ so good, sweetheart. You’re a natural,” he praises as he brushes his lips against your jawline, dragging it down slowly as he places a gentle kiss against your cheek. You about melt at the sweetness of it all, of him.

“You really think I’m doing good?” you ask with a giggle, feeling his right hand trace lines up and down your right arm as you continue to strum along the taut strings.

“Think you’re doin’ amazing, darlin’. Such a good little guitar player,” he praises as he places another kiss to your jawline. You nearly fall apart every time he praises you, kissing you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever planted his lips on.

When the song ends, he places the guitar to the side and wraps his arms around your waist as he entwines his fingers with yours. He makes an assessment of the bright walls that are covered with pink wallpaper and jewels and looks down to take in the soft pink robe that’s latched around you.

“You sure do love pink, don’t ya?” he asks with a soft chuckle that sounds like music to your ears.

“Mhm,” you hum as you lean against his broad chest and melt into his touch.

“That your favorite color?” he asks gently.

“How could you tell?” you ask with a playful smirk.

“Lucky guess,” he laughs as he grins down at you with soft brown eyes.

“And yours? What’s your favorite color?” you ask as you turn to face out the window, looking upon the lit up city as it sits below your view.

“Blue. Not just any blue. A deep navy blue, like the color of your dress. That’s my favorite color, the one you picked out at the dress shop. Thought I was having a heart attack seein’ ya in it tonight. You looked beautiful, just like a rare precious diamond. But you are a diamond, aren’t ya? You’re the rarest Sparkling Diamond I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he breathes out quietly as he trails a finger along your jawline, gently pushing a curl behind your ear as you turn around to face him.

You look up into his eyes and all you see are warm flecks of sunlight that shine down upon you, sinking into your eyes as you let your arms hook around the back of his neck. You think you see love in his eyes, and you’re sure he sees it there in yours, too.

“Joel Miller, you’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met. The most handsome, kind, and gentle man I ever laid eyes on. You know that?” you ask with a smile as he cups your chin and raises your face to his, just inches from his lips.

“Yeah? You think so?” he asks with the corners of his mouth curling up into the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Mhm,” you nod as your fingers wind around the curls on the nape of his neck.

“Does that mean you’re mine?” he asks quietly as he traces his thumb against your lower lip, making butterflies flit down in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m all yours,” you answer. And that’s all the answer he needs as he falls into your lips and kisses you deeply as his fingers curl around your long locks and his other hand pulls you tight to his chest. He tastes like heaven, smells like his acoustic guitar, all woodsy and mahogany. And you think you want to stay right here in his arms forever.

“Good, I’m yours, too. Ain’t nobody gonna hurt you again.” The two of you sit quietly, tangled into one another, almost as if you’re trying to become one. “So? You gonna teach me something now?”

You giggle into his skin, contemplating what you should show him. You don’t have any clay, but you planned to pick some up tomorrow on your day off. “Hmmm, we will have to get up if you want me to teach you something.”

He loosens his grip on you, wrapping his hands around your waist and helps lift you up. You spin gracefully towards him and grab his hands, tugging him up to his feet. He looks at you with one eyebrow raised as you place one of his large palms on the small of your back, your hand trailing up his strong forearm and bicep before finding a home on his shoulder. You place your other hand in his and hold it out to the side of your body.

“What are we doin’ here, sweet girl?” Joel asks, slightly nervous that you’re about to see him make a fool of himself.

You smile up at him, stepping in so close that your breasts are pressed up against his broad chest. “I feel sexiest when I’m doing the waltz.”

Joel feels his stomach drop. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that right?” You giggle a little as he adds, “But anything for you, always anything for you.”

“I promise it’s easy, the tempo is slow-slow-quick-quick, you repeat it twice in the shape of a box.” Joel looks at you like you’re speaking a different language, confusion furrowing in his brows and you can’t stop the smile that lights up your face. “Just follow me.”

Joel can’t tear his eyes off you, trying to follow but bumps into you and presses his toes against yours instead. You carry out a loud laugh. “Joel, look at your feet until you get the hang of it.”

“Can’t,” he says, “you’re too pretty.”

You stop moving your feet and look up at him. “Kiss me then.”

His lips come down to yours gently and he brings the hand he’s holding to rest on his shoulder, sliding his hand down to your waist gently as he hooks his arms around you tightly. You hum into his kiss as he starts to sway from side to side. He might not be able to waltz but this feels better, so much better.

You break the kiss hesitantly and look back up into honey colored eyes. “Please, stay the night. The club is closed tomorrow, Edward is leaving for the day. Please, Joel?”

He kisses you again slowly as his lips graze softly against yours. “I can’t say no when you say please like that, darlin’.”

You kiss him again, curving your lips up into a tight smile as his lips mould against yours. “Then it’s settled then, tonight you’re mine.”

“Tonight I’m yours,” he whispers back as his forehead leans against yours and his fingers entwine around yours.

Minutes later you’re tucked snuggly under the fuzzy fleece blanket, laying against Joel’s chest as he wraps his arms around you and combs his fingers through your smooth locks. You sink into his space, feel yourself get lost in his savory scent as your fingers trail up and down his inner arm as you trace each vein like they’re the map to his heart.

You could stay here forever in his arms, get lost in each other as you both breathe each other in again and again and again. This is where you belong, in Joel’s arms. This is right. This is home.

You let your eyes fall closed as he continues to soothe you to sleep with his warm touches and gentle kisses. “Goodnight, sweet girl. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let his words bring you peace as you feel yourself fade off into the dark. The last thing you remember is him kissing the top of your head and whispering words you can’t quite make out.

Home. He’s home.

[jellieland]

The land around spawn is destroyed. Torn to shreds, full of holes. It's like a warzone.

Martyn leans up against the rocks by the side of the Secret Keeper. It, of course, is pristine. Completely untouched. Unharmed.

Something about that makes him really angry.

He glares up at the massive pillar Joel had jumped off a few weeks ago. Behind it, the sky is bright and clear.

Last week, as Jimmy climbed up it, Martyn had shouted after him. Fly, canary, fly.

Usually he might repeat that to himself, at this point. Laugh wryly, gaze off into the distance dramatically. Maybe make some comment about how letting the canary go free didn't actually keep it safe.

Not this time, though.

He won't laugh about it this time, because everyone else already did.

If he thinks about that, it feels like something is burning in his chest, so he keeps thinking about it.

He's the only red left, after all. He has to really give it everything he's got.

He'll tear them to shreds.

There isn't the same red bloodlust, this time, but he can make his own.

They all banded together. Roped in Jimmy, roped in Mumbo. Slayed the monsters, and congratulated themselves on a job well done, and left Martyn completely alone.

Jimmy had already betrayed him. Tried to punch him into lava. They hadn't really had the chance to resolve that, before he was gone.

It had honestly really stung, which was ridiculous and hypocritical given what he did to Scott last time, but he can't help it, no matter how hard he tries. No matter how much he tells himself that he, of all people, really had no right to feel betrayed.

It's so frustrating when he gets attached. It just makes things so much harder.

"You'd think I would've learned by now," he says, bitter. He looks away from the Secret Keeper, across the torn up ground. "You really would."

Maybe he had just been feeling sentimental, today, for some stupid reason. He'd even thought Tango sounded like—well, it's embarrassing to admit this even to himself, so he won't. Tango, of all people! The guy hates him!

But he'll show them.

He's not sure what, exactly, he'll show them, but he will. He'll make them hurt. He'll make them bleed. No honeyed words, this time.

He'd looted Lizzie's house, earlier, before he'd known quite how this was all going to end up.

He still would have if he'd known, of course—it's not like she was using it. Maybe he would have taken more, actually.

It's better not to think about how she died falling through the void, because when he does he starts to remember what that felt like, and he starts to feel cold, and that's the opposite of what he needs, now.

Mumbo had gone off the rails a bit. He does always seem to do that, when he hits red.

Martyn had still given him the TNT he needed, though, of course.

Mumbo had barely got to do anything. He'd had so little time.

It makes him so, so angry.

"I'm going to kill them," he growls, still staring out and away from the Secret Keeper. "I'm going to kill them. They were so proud of themselves."

He clenches his hands into fists.

He should, probably, be marching back home, planning and gather resources and seething in the shadows.

Looking out over this battlefield is good, though.

It's making him feel how he wants to be feeling.

It would be just wonderful if he could find a way to justify saying here forever, but unfortunately that's beyond even his skill at bending the truth into knots.

He is, unfortunately, going to have to go back to the house, eventually.

The house that Jimmy built, with Jimmy's stuff all along one wall, and the chests they'd been using to measure how many tasks they'd each completed.

He glares straight ahead as the thought crosses his mind.

It's always easier being angry. It's always so, so much easier, being angry.

So he'll keep being angry until he is dead. He'll do what he always does, and scream in the face of sorrow.

Hopefully he'll take a few people down with him.

[sophieeee0105]

I just want to discuss how throughout the life series, Etho’s episodes 4, 5 and 6 are always just constant fricking chaos for absolutely no reason.

third life:

Episode 4: he launches multiple missiles at the crastle, stealing his redstone back each time and is then blamed for being apart of Grian’s triple kill

episode 5 +6 (well session 5 + 6) were in episode 5: he made the Dorito walls, then death my firing squad occurred, then he made an enderporter, launched a tnt cannon at the crastle as a distraction, (also joined dowarts officially during this), and also was part of pizza’s murder, then had his castle burned down for the first time, then got sniped by Scar for tryna steal stuff from the desert (cuz his enderporter broke), and then had the entire bit of being terrified of Cleo despite being the only red in the conversation

last life:

Episode 4: Was genuinely a menance the whole episode using invisibility pots to sneak around peoples bases, and also stole the brewing stand from Cleo’s body in full view of like 4 people

episode 5: had to deal with a red roommate, no tango and also being the boogeyman, and made an enemy of scar in the process

episode 6: whatever the stack kill carnage was, bdubs boogey betrayal, tango rage crystal which became Etho’s rage crystal where he threatened 3 reds, ultimately getting skizz killed after a failed tnt cannon

double life:

Episode 4: fishing rodding the warden, near death via attempted entrance of mineshaft, death by fishing rod, murder of Pearl, near death by witch, threatening of grian and scar, becoming successful hitmen killing the ranchers

episode 5: the red army, skulk sensor trap kill, THE SHIP BURNS EVERYTHING BURNS

episode 6: red army attempt 2, literally wanting Scott dead the entire episode, Etho and bdubs cannot be separated and everyone knows that and deals with it as the server splits in two, death by trapped portal

limited life:

episode 4: green hunting day, “thank you Joel you saved me so now I can kill you”, failed attempt at trapping Scott’s bed, ETHO IS WASHED UP CONVERSATION

episode 5: blowing up bread bridge and his children, awkward family supper

episode 6: dies multiple times (mainly to his son or his own stupidity) and generally doesn’t have a good day, bucket clutches multiple times, kills scar with a fishing rod

secret life

episode 4: fails listening comprehension with Martyn, aha meme with Jimmy and becomes like an uncle tryna fit in with the kids

episode 5: be nice to bdubs day, weeping angel task causing way too many problems, somehow getting involved with the tag task because of bdubs, pearl’s hot potato book and his inability to return it to her

episode 6: bringing a warden to the surface while everyone else goes about their day normally, get set on fire but Pearl for seemingly no reason, becomes friends with Jimmy who was feral to half the server, the wither and warden fight in the centre of the server, killing 2 reds and he succeeds his hard task

[trafficlife]

I Never Told You (I Still Love You)

Strike one was Etho saying "you own my heart, Joel" in front of half the server.

Strike two was Etho saying "I love you" in front of the other half the server.

Strike three wasn't what Etho said. It was what he did, when he appeared in that boat.

Joel knew then and there that he was fucked.

word count: 1068

ao3 link

Joel didn’t know what to expect when he walked up to Lizzie, Tango, Mumbo and Bdubs. 

He didn’t expect to spot a birch boat slowly rowing towards the group out of the corner of his eye. And the person inside the boat was—

Oh, for goodness sake.

He thought he could look away in time, pretend to not have noticed him, but mismatched eyes met his own and—

… Bloody hell.

Joel felt his heart thump against his ribcage, so loudly and so intensely he thought it would burst. In an instant, everyone else had vanished and the time froze. It was just him and Etho, staring at each other, being here together, communicating with their eyes.

Now, Joel didn’t completely know what he was communicating to Etho. But his mind was already filling the gaps: I still love you, I should have said it then, I never stopped loving you.

And, surprisingly, it was true. Joel couldn’t stop loving Etho, even if he tried. And he did try. But he failed miserably. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel part of his soul die, when he rejected Etho’s confession last week. And it made him wonder, did the soulbond not completely fade? Did Etho feel it too? Were they still soulmates, in spite of everything that happened? 

Joel was still staring into Etho’s eyes. He never forgot how mesmerizing they were, especially the left one. It reminded him of lava, scarlet decorated with orange specks. Underneath the sunlight, it shimmered like a ruby and underneath the pale moonlight, it looked almost. Either way, regardless of how his eyes looked, they were perfect. Etho was perfect. At times, Joel felt blessed to have had Etho as his soulmate because how could a man be so perfect, the ice needed to extinguish his fire, one of the few people willing to follow Joel and the path of destruction he’d leave.

… Gods, did Joel fall hard.

And he didn’t realize how deeply he had zoned out. Despite spending hours staring into Etho’s eyes in the past, he always got lost in them.

Etho had rowed closer to Joel now, gesturing his head towards the back of the boat. As if drawn to it, Joel immediately went in behind him, without uttering a single word. He kept his hands in his lap, fighting the urge to wrap his arms around Etho’s waist for both physical and mental support.

“We’re reliving the past now, Joel,” Etho spoke, finally breaking the barrier of silence separating them. Joel hummed in acknowledgment, eyes drifting around to take in the server. Tango, Mumbo and BDubs were far ahead of them but Joel didn’t care about them. He was just happy to be here with Etho, to finally be alone with him after all this time. “Remember the good old days? Just me and you, riding around in the boats?”

Joel sighed wistfully. “Ah, and the Relation ship…” He still remembered how quickly the ship went up in flames. All the work and heart and soul Joel put into building the ship manifested into a burning urge for vengeance. Yet, even though the symbol of their love disappeared, Joel and Etho’s relationship never felt so strong. 

If only they could still be the same as they were back then.

Etho nodded his head. “Back when you cared about me.” The bitterness in Etho’s tone could have killed Joel almost instantly. His heart twisted in chest, did he really think that? 

Well, of course he thought that! Especially considering how Joel rejected him the last game and just last week, the message seemed clear. But that wasn’t the truth, that wasn’t how he felt. Joel bit down on his lip, heart threatening to escape his chest, he had to convince Etho otherwise, he just had to—

“I still care, Etho,” Joel blurted out.

“You still care?” Somehow, Etho didn’t sound surprised. 

“I do care, Etho, it’s just…” Joel’s voice faltered. He knew what he wanted to say but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He couldn’t say it, even though it’s been burning in the back of his mind since the end of Limited Life. There was never a right time to say it, he’d tell himself, even though it was long overdue.

“It’s just that we never see each other anymore?” Etho asked, finishing Joel’s sentence for him. It was partially the truth, but not exactly what Joel had in mind.

“No- well, yes. But I’m with the Mounders now, so…” Nice excuse, Joel, he scolded himself. He cringed a bit after saying it because it was so weak and pathetic and it shouldn’t have meant anything. Etho just nodded slowly, steering the boat towards a small ravine. “You better not be rowing me off this edge,” Joel warned. Subconsciously, he wrapped his arms around Etho’s waist for support.

Wow, he forgot how much he missed this. Joel relaxed himself and he felt Etho do the same thing, despite not appearing tense. It was… very comforting. How could he ever give this up? 

Carefully, Etho guided the boat over the edge and just barely made it to the other side. 

And almost instantly, Joel brought himself back right where he was before. He removed his arms from Etho’s waist, stood up, and quickly hopped out of the boat. “Well, that was lovely!” 

Etho chuckled a bit. “Guess that’s the end of the relationship!”

Joel forced a laugh and turned away from Etho without saying goodbye. He smacked his forehead several times, while muttering ‘stupid, stupid, stupid…’ Why couldn’t he just tell Etho that he still wanted him? And he had his chance, they were alone at that moment. He just lost himself completely, becoming completely tongue-tied. That wasn’t like Joel. Did Etho really have him on this much of a chokehold?

But if that were the case, why couldn’t Joel just say how he felt?

He was a coward, that’s why. He’d been trying to avoid Etho because he never knew what to say to him. Especially after Etho said “you owned my heart” and then later saying “I love you.” Joel didn’t even know if Etho was being serious.

Joel didn’t even know if Etho still wanted him.

And Joel wouldn’t be surprised if Etho didn’t still want him. It was probably better for his heart to believe that was the truth either way.

[marabelle5]

The 'Vigil' Keeper

Pix looked up from his book as the bell rang. It was Xisuma Void, the principal of the school the next street over. Pix chuckled to himself, he remembered that someone told him that the kids were calling Hermitopia for some reason. Pix smiled. The shop had few customers this time of day and at this day of the week. It had been an uneventful Tuesday.

“Good afternoon Xisuma. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing well. How are you?” 

“I’m great. Thanks for asking. So what brings you to Pixandria on this dark and gloomy afternoon?” Pix replied. 

Pix pulled down the sleeve of his dark blue sweater. It was cold even with all the candles lit. Pixandria was not a dark place, it was far from it. Between the candles lit all around to the replica of the ancient ‘Vigil’ to the four mysterious ‘conduits’ (lamps Pearl painted for him) he put around the place, it was quite bright.

“Could I pick up the 200 candles I ordered?” Xisuma asked then quickly he said. “No dyes or scents.” Pix smiled again.

“Of course. What do you need it for?” Pix said while he went under the counter to grab the order. Xisuma laughed.

“Well Tango said how it would be fun to do a lab with candles for the kids and Cleo immediately agreed saying it would be fun to experiment with the wax for an art project.”

“Ah I see. Looks like you’ve paid for everything beforehand.” Pix was about to hand the box to X when a couple kids ran in and stared at the ‘Vigil’.

“Um King Pixl Riffs? What is that?” A boy with dirty blond hair and hazel eyes pointed to the ‘Vigil’. 

“Well. It is what I call the ‘Vigil’ . Every time an emperor is ‘pranked’ by another empire I put up a candle and if they get 12 candles I make a paper lantern of the color of the empire. I have a list of who did the ‘pranks’ and we talley them up at the end of the year and then I reset the ‘Vigil’.”

   The kids who had entered with the boy now had big smiles on their faces.

“You guys prank each other?” A boy with curly brown hair asked excitedly. 

“Like we do at school sometimes?” A girl with black hair said. Pix laughed as Xisuma sighed.

“What kind of pranks do you do?” The trio shouted in unison.

“Well one time Jimmy and I changed all of fWhip salmon pictures to cod pictures but he caught on quickly and they were all changed back within a day and fWhip gave Jimmy a salmon statue saying sense he loved salmon so much he should have it. And there was another time when Pearl and I went around asking everyone weird or confusing trivia and it all bottled down to who makes the best honey which isn’t really a prank but a fond memory. We also all said hi to Gem each in a different way then we normally did it but how another emperor said hi.”

When Pix stopped talking. 

“Thank you King Mr. Vigil Keeper.” The children said and they ran out of the store no doubt going to Pearl’s to get a drink of hot cocoa that she sells in the winter. The name made a chill go up Pix’s spine.

Pix waved goodbye to Xisuma. He flipped his sign to closed and headed down the very long stairs to the basement. The wooden stairs creaked under his feet but as he got lower the stairs became stone and you could hear his sandals slap against the stone. The walls have a spot for candles to light the path but Pix usually ignores them and thinks about events that happened during the day. The basement has two layers where the stairs turn to stone. You can see Daivd and when you get to the end of those stone stairs you will step on to the ground only to find that it is sand. If you walk a bit in this sand you’ll find a very old and ancient monument called The Vigil.  

Pix looked at The Vigil every candle was burning bright. He sighed. He felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He took it out and pressed the answer button.

“Hello Zloy, how are you doing?”

“Pix, Pix the Copper King might be out tonight! Can you come?” An excited Zloy said.

“No sorry I have…” Pix trailed off thinking of an excuse. 

“Oh. Are you free for recording tomorrow?”

“Let me check my schedule and I’ll get back to you.”

“Okay. Lyarrah and I are going out to record in the field tonight.”

“Alright. See yuh tomorrow.”

“Good night.”

“Good night.” Pix took off his blue sweater. He put on a brown undershirt and pants. He bore a sandy color jacket with copper shoulders and lining down. And went up to The Vigil and put on perfectly on top of his head a copper crown. He then grabbed his trident. 

The Copper King smiled as he exited his underground lair. He turned on his com and took his watch.