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#just a little thing I wrote
thatsrightice · 6 months
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Oh Maverick’s some large bird of prey. Or something like a wolf.
No.
Wrong.
He’s a frickin possum.
A dumpster-diving, scavenger who plays dead and is INCREDIBLY hard to kill, but ultimately harmless. They’re immune to the venom of most snakes and have a skull too thick to be shot in the head. He’s constantly getting into shit he’s not supposed to like—
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Just look at this little sh*t. That’s so Maverick.
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the-sun-and-the-sea · 26 days
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Summary:
Finnick and counting.
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thetombisempty · 2 months
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what does it mean to no longer know god? 
i have known you for so long. i loved you. WHERE ARE YOU i cry. why does the entering of your temples, the sound of hymns, the smell of incense, the reading of your scriptures, no longer mean anything to me. WHY WHY i cry. 
god, where are you
-silence-
why does my heart and my soul no longer cry out to you, why does my soul cringe and run away at the sound of Our Father or Almighty God i am still HERE still working and serving and worshiping but instead you LEFT. left left left. gone. others know you, others CRY at the beauty of you but i stay and sit here. wondering, hoping, that i can touch you. i catch glimpses of you like my reflection in moving water, the moment i notice and try to look, really look, you are gone. 
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the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"
just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible
#due to the Great Data Decay academics write viciously argumentative articles on which episodes aired in what order#at conferences professors have known to engage in physically violent altercations whilst debating the air date number of household viewers#90% of the couch gags have been lost and there is a billion dollar trade in counterfeit “lost copies”#serious note: i'll be honest i always assumed it was english imperialism that made shakespeare so inescapable in the 19th/20th cent#like his writing should have become obscure at the same level of his contemporaries#but british imperialists needed an ENGLISH LANGUAGE (and BRITISH) writer to venerate#and shakespeare wrote so many damn things that there was a humongous body of work just sitting there waiting to be culturally exploited...#i know it didn't happen like this but i imagine a English Parliament House Committee Member For The Education Of The Masses or something#cartoonishly stumbling over a dusty cobwebbed crate labelled the Complete Works of Shakespeare#and going 'Eureka! this shall make excellent propoganda for fabricating a national identity in a time of great social unrest.#it will be a cornerstone of our elitist educational institutions for centuries to come! long live our decaying empire!'#'what good fortune that this used to be accessible and entertaining to mainstream illiterate audience members...#..but now we can strip that away and make it a difficult & alienating foundation of a Classical Education! just like the latin language :)'#anyway maybe there's no such thing as the 'greatest writer of x language' in ANY language?#maybe there are just different styles and yes levels of expertise and skill but also a high degree of subjectivity#and variance in the way that we as individuals and members of different cultures/time periods experience any work of media#and that's okay! and should be acknowledged!!! and allow us to give ourselves permission to broaden our horizons#and explore the stories of marginalized/underappreciated creators#instead of worshiping the List of Top 10 Best (aka Most Famous) Whatevers Of All Time/A Certain Time Period#anyways things are famous for a reason and that reason has little to do with innate “value”#and much more to do with how it plays into the interests of powerful institutions motivated to influence our shared cultural narratives#so i'm not saying 'stop teaching shakespeare'. but like...maybe classrooms should stop using it as busy work that (by accident or designs)#happens to alienate a large number of students who could otherwise be engaging critically with works that feel more relevant to their world#(by merit of not being 4 centuries old or lacking necessary historical context or requiring untaught translation skills)#and yeah...MAYBE our educational institutions could spend less time/money on shakespeare critical analysis and more on...#...any of thousands of underfunded areas of literary research i literally (pun!) don't know where to begin#oh and p.s. the modern publishing world is in shambles and it would be neat if schoolwork could include modern works?#beautiful complicated socially relevant works of literature are published every year. it's not just the 'classics' that have value#and actually modern publications are probably an easier way for students to learn the basics. since lesson plans don't have to include the#important historical/cultural context many teens need for 20+ year old media (which is older than their entire lived experience fyi)
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 5 months
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you’ve been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember.
sure, he had never outwardly called you his girlfriend, but when you were both seven years old, he came up to you. chest heaving slightly from running up and down the hill where he had gotten you a freshly plucked out bouquet of flowers. the roots were still clinging to them and he got dirt all over your hands from forcibly grabbing them and shoving the bouquet in them before you could even form a sentence.
“since you accepted the flowers, you’re mine now.” he mumbled, his little hands tightened into fists at his sides and chubby cheeks a cute shade of pink, staring at you as confidently as he could.
a grin grows on his face when you respond with a simple “okay !” and a bright smile. the grin on his face never disappears even as his mom scolds him for getting you both all dirty.
you were katsuki’s in middle school too, when the boys in class decided to play kiss, marry, kill and he had somehow gotten dragged into it. the girls in your class tried their best to seem uninterested, claiming the boys were being childish, but you noticed how hard some of them were straining their ears trying to hear what the guys were talking about in their own little corner of the room. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little curious as well.
katsuki was as ruthless as you’d known him to be, choosing to kill any girl that wasn’t to his liking, which ended up being all of them. much to the other boys’ chagrin, claiming he had no taste.
then your name was brought up.
at that, his eyes widened and he turned in his seat to see if you were watching. you had never turned your head away so fast in your life and you were pretty sure you heard something go “crack”.
he clicked his tongue. mumbling something about how stupid the game was before muttering out a “kiss yn, marry yn and kill that other bitch.” before getting up and stomping away, claiming he had to go to the bathroom followed closely by the whoops and hollers of his two friends behind him.
you both made eye contact when he walked out and you think you’ll never forget how red his cheeks were.
you were katsuki’s when he was the one to walk you to and from school everyday, claiming you would somehow get lost without him. you were katsuki’s when he had begrudgingly shoved homemade valentines day chocolates into your arms, mumbling something about how you had been upset nobody had gotten you anything last year, conveniently leaving out the fact he had scared off all the other guys trying to offer you anything.
you were katsuki’s when he grabbed your hand during the winter because he said you’d “end up dying of hypothermia with the way you’re chittering over there.” and you were his when you were the only person he laughed around. loud, genuine laughter that you and only you could squeeze out of him. you were katsuki’s when he randomly kissed you goodnight at your door one night and he’s been doing it ever since, and gets all pouty when you turn away from his kisses to tease him.
“are we dating ?” you had asked him. you’re both in high school now and you’re in his dorm room. your legs are on his lap and he’s got a comfortable grip on your leg, which tightens after he registers your questions “hah?” he looks utterly confused and a little insulted as he looks back at you, his entire face scrunched up in confusion. you pinch his nose and he swats at your hand.
“are we dating ? like—am i your girlfriend.” you say again and katsuki’s face scrunches up even harder. he huffs and looks back at his phone, landing a little smack on your leg still placed in his lap. “ ‘course yer my fuckin’ girlfriend.” he spits out, obviously irritated. then he looks back at you “I haven’t made it obvious ?” he says sarcastically. one of his eyebrows lifted as he pokes at your leg still very much in his lap.
you simply shrug “s’not that. it’s just because you’ve never actually asked me out before, so i was a little confused on where we stood.” you mumble. he stares at you while you speak and he stares a little longer before sighing. then he leans towards you and flicks your forehead.
“ow !”
“dumbass.” he murmurs. there’s a slight pout on his face and his cheeks are light shade of pink when he looks you in the eyes again. he grabs both your cheeks with one hand and smushes them together to push your lips out and presses multiple wet kisses onto them that have you squealing and squirming. his wet lips are pulled into a smirk when he pulls back and you try your best to at least look a little angry, you really do. but it’s useless when he looks at you like that.
“of course you’re my girlfriend” he reiterates. his smirk’s been replaced for something softer, something more sincere as he gazes at you with so much unadulterated affection it makes your head spin a little. “you’ve always been mine.” he says it in a teasing tone and his hand is still smushing your cheeks out and it hurts a little but his eyes are still the same. they’re warm and soft and so, so enamored with you and only you.
when he finally let’s go of your face and pulls you fully into his lap, you realize katsuki’s been yours for as long as you’ve been his.
you smile brightly at him but turn your nose up when he leans in to kiss you again. “i still haven’t heard what i wanna hear though, mr. bakugou.”
he rolls his eyes and pinches at your thigh as he mumbles out a “don’t call me that.” sighing, he looks at you intensely and you suddenly feel very shy.
“will you be my girlfriend, ya shitty girl ?” and he says it as a joke, you both know it is cus his lips are already forming into a smirk the second he finishes his sentence. and you’re pulling at his nose the moment you register it, but you’re both smiling hard. he laughs and you’re sure you’ll never get tired of the sound. “what’s your answer, pretty ?” he asks playfully and you pretend to really think it over just to mess with him, and giggling out a “yes!” when he suddenly pounces on you. flipping you both over and tickling you mercilessly, calling it revenge for you “taking too damn long to answer.”
you’d been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember, and you hope you can be forever.
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bucketsofmonsters · 9 months
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On The Altar
cw: kidnapping, size difference, attempted human sacrifice, indoctrination, culty vibes, blood, hunting animals for food, self-loathing, allusions to drowning, heights, non-human genitalia, voyeurism, oral sex, threesome, unprotected sex, everyone in this is having a rough time
male dragon x male knight x fem reader
word count: 12k
Your breath caught as you stared at yourself in the mirror and a sort of disappointment washed over you. The white ceremonial dress draped across your form, fitted perfectly to you. 
You were supposed to look better than you ever had. Your heart sank a little when realized you didn’t think you did. 
Your birthday a few months ago. You thought you looked better then. 
You should have toned it down, not given yourself such a high bar to clear. It was your own fault, really. 
It had just been your last one. You'd wanted to make it count
Your head felt heavy with the ceremonial braids in your hair and the golden crown atop your head. It matched the rest of your accessories. Golden bracelets and necklaces and cuffs that circled your biceps. 
You wondered if it was real gold. Of course, everyone said it was but it seemed like a difficult thing to manage, a whole set of new golden adornments made every year just for it to be lost. A Sisyphean task. 
You didn’t have to worry about that. Your responsibility was far from that of the clothing and jewelry makers. You didn’t have to do any work at all, a crowd of women ensuring you didn’t so much as lift a finger on your day, bathing you and dressing you in unfamiliar clothes. 
You’d spent the whole day preparing. This was the first time you’d had a chance to breathe. 
Excitement and nerves all swelled inside of you, neither able to snuff the other out. 
Time was flying by and you weren’t sure whether you wanted it to slow or speed up. Part of you wanted to cherish these last few moments but it was almost here. It was almost your time. 
They tied you up. Not that they had to. You weren’t going anywhere. It was just tradition. 
You forgot to treasure your last moments of sight before someone behind you pulled a blindfold over your eyes. 
All you were left to do was imagine it. Being pulled from where you stood on the shore, being dragged under the water, the air leaving you as you fulfilled your duty.
And the town saved. 
They’d do it again next year and again the next, just like they had for decades. But this year was yours. You would save them. 
What a privilege it was to die for them. 
You wondered if the ropes ruined the lines of your dress. You supposed you’d never find out. 
Something hooked around your shoulders and you couldn’t help but flinch. You took in a big gulp of air instinctually, knowing what was coming. 
You braced yourself to be dragged forwards and instead slipped backward as you were lifted in the wrong direction. The ground disappeared from under you before you could fall. 
Your legs kicked, searching for anything below you, but you found nothing. The wind rushed up around you and despite your lack of vision, you could feel that you were rising up and up and up. 
You were meant to be dragged down to the depths and yet here you were, being hoisted into the sky. Claws dug into your skin and you were still blind and disoriented. Fear overtook you. 
You reached up and felt at whatever was carrying you, finding scaly skin connected to the strong talons digging into your shoulders. 
And then, as quickly as you’d been scooped up, you were being dropped. Rocks scraped your skin as you tumbled onto a hard stone floor. The bindings had come undone during the fall and you scrambled for your blindfold, squinting when the harsh light reached your eyes. 
As your vision began to adjust, you saw an enormous figure in front of you. At first, all you could see was a silhouette. Massive wings curled into the figure and the dragon that was slowly coming into focus in front of you stared right back at you. 
It was retreating into mounds of shiny things, gold and silver, old pieces of armour and crowns and candelabras piled into the cave you’d been thrown into. 
It stood out amongst the collection, a hulking creature with scales that shone a dark bronze that matched little of his horde. It was probably 20 feet long, its head cocked to the side as it watched you. 
Your instincts screamed at you to run, to get as far away from the creature as possible. 
You took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. If you tried to run it could just scoop you up again. Besides, the last thing you wanted to do was activate a hunting instinct. Maybe right now, covered in gold jewelry, he saw you as something for his horde. It was certainly preferable to the alternative. 
He didn’t seem to be eating you, which you took as a good sign. Maybe if you removed the gold from yourself, it would lose interest in you and you could sneak out. If you rushed and were lucky, maybe you could even make it back in time. A sacrifice without the ceremonial adornments wasn’t ideal but it would certainly be better than nothing. 
You slowly lifted your hand to the golden cuff on your bicep, praying it wouldn’t think you were trying to take it. You tried to rip it from the white fabric of your dress, wanting to return home with at least some of your dignity, and your clothes, intact. 
Its head tilted further to the side and then a voice sounded, echoing off the walls. “What are you doing? Why would you ruin such a lovely dress?”
You froze at the noise, looking up wide-eyed at the creature. It couldn’t have. That wasn’t possible. Dragons were forces of chaos. Mindless beasts, nothing more. 
You blinked slowly, wondering if maybe you hadn’t woken up this morning quite yet. Or perhaps you’d been pulled underwater too quickly to notice and this was the oxygen deprivation messing with your mind. 
“Hello,” you responded. 
Its jaw opened to reveal layers of teeth in a ghoulish imitation of a smile. “Hello!”
You felt your heart stutter in your chest. “What… why did you take me?” You tried your best to keep your voice steady. The last thing you wanted was to upset the creature. 
“You were out there to be taken, yes?”
Oh. You supposed you were. Perhaps you’d been sending mixed messages to the monsters of the world. 
You wondered if maybe some town made sacrifices just like you to dragons.
“I was,” you said cautiously. “But not for you. For the creatures of the deep. Fishing is our life, it’s how we survive. We need the waters to be safe.”
“Not… what? You’re… but I thought. So you weren’t out there for me?” He sounded heartbroken. 
“It’s fine,” you said, keeping your voice level. “Misunderstandings happen. Just take me back and everything will be fine.”
“No, it doesn’t make sense. You’re covered in gold. You can’t just cover someone in gold and not expect a dragon to come snatch them up. You must have known. You must be for me.”
“Well, I’m not. And I would love to go home now.”
“What do they even want with you?” it asked, avoiding any discussion of bringing you back. “I don’t know much about humans but I know you aren’t water creatures. They couldn’t even take you anywhere, they’d have to come all the way up to visit you every day.”
Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?”
You’d assumed he’d taken you for the same reasons as the creatures you sacrificed maidens to every year. To take and consume, to feel worshiped. But it sounded like this dragon had entirely different ideas as to why a monster would want a sacrifice. 
“I wouldn’t have to just visit you,” he said. “I could be with you all the time. Take good care of you. No water involved. I’d keep you warm and fed and completely dry.”
“I’m not given to be a pet,” you snapped. 
The creature reeled back and began backpedaling instantly. “I didn’t mean you’re like a pet, I just meant…”
“They were going to kill me,” you said. “I’m a sacrifice. They need to kill me. It’s the only way.”
It took him a minute to understand what you could possibly mean by that. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to understand. 
You didn’t have time for this. “Just take me back,” you pleaded with him. 
He paused. “They’re going to kill you?”
“It’s none of your concern what they’re going to do.”
He dropped his head low, resting it on his tail with a huff. “Then I’m not taking you anywhere.”
Your heart sank. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“I can’t let them hurt you.”
You let out an exasperated groan, burying your head in your hands. “It has to happen, without it so many more will perish. 
“What if I start terrorizing your village!” the dragon said, with the intonation of someone who’d just had a great idea but none of the content. “Or say I would if I didn’t have you. Then your sacrifice won’t have been for nothing.”
Reasoning with him was starting to seem pointless. “Please don’t.”
“Well, either way, I’m not letting you go back. If I let you go, it would be like I hurt you. No, you can stay here.”
You could not do this, couldn’t argue with this strange creature who was incapable of understanding how vital it was that you returned so your town had its proper sacrifice. 
You stormed over to the corner of the cave, leaning against the cold stone wall with a huff. 
He just stared at you, neverendingly, undeterred by your attitude. 
“It can’t be comfortable over there,” he called out to you.
“Leave me alone!” you shouted back, curling in further on yourself. 
He wanted to approach you, you could tell that much. His hesitation was evident and he took small steps forwards before pulling himself back, repeating the gesture over and over until he seemed to come to a conclusion. 
“Alright. I can go for a while. Don’t hurt yourself.” 
With that, he gave you a final once-over and flew out of the cave. 
He was hard to read. The way a dragon worked was unfamiliar to you. The most you could do was take guesses and try your best. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be around long enough to figure out the intricacies of dragon body language. 
You should run. If you were going to have a chance to escape, this would be it. 
As you edged out of the cave, your dreams of making it down the mountain were crushed. There was, technically, a sort of path down the mountain. It was barely a few feet wide with a sheer cliff at the edge of it. 
You hadn’t eaten since this morning. You were scared and exhausted and there was a slight tremor in your hands you couldn’t quite seem to rid yourself of. There was no way you could safely traverse that path. 
You went back into the cave with a huff, waiting for your captor to return. 
Eventually, he did, blood dripping down his face as he dropped an animal in front of you. It was hard to tell what it was with the way it was mangled. It was clearly a fresh kill. 
You stared blankly at him, edging further away and into the cave wall. 
At your lack of reaction, he nudged the creature towards you. “You should eat,” he said. 
“I can’t eat that.”
You prayed he wouldn’t try and force you. 
“Why don’t you just eat me?” you spat at him. “At least it would be better than this.” 
At least then you wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that you’d failed, and your village would pay the price. 
He tilted his head once more. “Why would I do that? I’ve wanted to meet a human for a very very long time. I’ve got another friend too, come look.”
He started to wander back into the cave, behind piles of gold and you hesitantly followed him on shaky legs. 
When you reached the back of the dark cave, you found a single, frightened sheep sitting atop a massive patch of grass that seemed to have been uprooted from the ground. 
“I took him from a field. I couldn’t eat him, he had sad eyes.”
“Do I have sad eyes?” you asked. Maybe that was why he insisted on keeping you, refusing to let you go back home. 
He looked at you and as hard as it was to read the facial expressions of a dragon, you knew exactly what he was thinking.
“Is it that bad?” you asked as you looked away.
“Not bad. You just look like you're hurting.”
If you were it was because of him. This was supposed to be the best day of your life, the only day that mattered. And instead, you were here, looking at a poor terrorized sheep who was in the same position you were in. 
“So, what can you eat?” the dragon asked. Before you could give an answer, it said, “Nevermind, I’ve got an idea.”
You didn’t get the chance to ask him what it was. He was off again, moving through the cave until you heard the telltale flapping noise that meant you were alone once more.
You looked down at the sheep again. 
Maybe not entirely alone. 
He returned swiftly with a whole market cart in tow. It had piles of bread in it, although they were a little worse for wear from the flight. You had no doubt that some unsuspecting farmers had found it raining loaves of bread as he made his way back. 
You were too hungry to worry about scolding him for the thievery. You grabbed the first piece you could get your hands on and took the biggest bite you were capable of.
Your dragon watched, seemingly entranced by the sight. 
As you chewed your first bite of freshly baked bread he asked, “I did alright this time?”
You nodded, unable to speak through the mouthful of food. 
As you finished scarfing down your bread, you sat in the grass with your new sheep companion and asked your captor, “Do you have a name?”
The dragon considered this for a moment. “No. No one has ever needed to call me anything.”
“Oh. I thought dragons would have names.”
“They do. Just not me.”
You looked up at him, brow furrowed. “What, just you?”
He hummed in acknowledgment, the vibrations from the noise cascading through the stone under you. “Didn’t bother to give me one. I was the runt so you know how it is. Or maybe you don’t. I don’t really know how people work. With dragons, the littlest one always has to go. That’s the way it is.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I get a little lonely but now you’re here!”
You rolled your eyes, collapsing back into the grass. If you closed your eyes you could pretend you were outside your village lying in a field instead of trapped in a dark cave on a cold mountain. “Yeah, now I’m here.”
The moment couldn’t last. It was too cold, there was no wind. The air smelled different. 
“You know,” you said. “We had stories about dragons. Big terrifying ones that wanted to hurt people. My mother used to tell me stories of Pytho. I was so scared of him when I was little.”
“Oh.” You heard his wings rustle and opened one of your eyes to peek over at him, shuffling uncomfortably in place. 
“I could call you Pytho,” you added. “It’s the only dragon name I know.”
“If you think it fits, I suppose. I thought you said he was big and scary?”
You laughed. “Well, from my perspective, you’re pretty big and scary.”
Instead of being pleased at your words, he reeled back. “Are you scared of me?”
You shrugged. “I was. Not so much anymore. Honestly, I think on any other day, I would’ve liked you”
“But not today?”
You shook your head. “Not today.”
“Well then,” he said as he began to curl up into a ball, “Maybe tomorrow.”
You backed up, leaning against the cold wall, and tried to suppress your tears at the thought that there would be a tomorrow for you at all. 
When you woke up, it was all still real. A dragon snored beside you as a sheep stared at you with the saddest gaze you’d ever seen. 
Maybe, as you looked at it, it thought the same thing about you. 
Pytho stirred from his slumber, immediately turning to check on you.  
When you felt his warm breath directed at you, you realized just how cold you were. Not that you were going to do anything about it. Your only source of warmth was the dragon in front of you and you were going to go nowhere near him. 
You clench your fists, doing your best to stop the shivering. 
He didn’t seem to notice. With the warmth that he radiated, you were sure that the concept of being cold was something that was foreign to him. 
You turned away from the creature. If he wouldn’t take you back, the least you could do was deprive him of your attention.
It wasn’t much but it was all you had. 
The day passed slowly but still, it passed. You spent it wallowing in the corner. 
Pytho left you alone after the first few outbursts. He seemed to understand that you needed your space. You could appreciate him for at least that much. 
As the sun began to set once more, you began to realize just how much warmth and light the day had brought to this miserable cave. 
You curled in on yourself, not far from how Pytho slept. 
You watched him begin to settle in for the night and saw a moment of hope where he tried to move closer to you. You glared at him and he stopped in his tracks. 
“You’re still upset with me,” he noted. 
“Of course I am. There’s nothing for me now. It was supposed to be over and now it’s not. You took that from me.”
“I took your ending,” he said, and you knew he understood.
“You did.”
“You’ll find a new ending someday.”
“But that one was mine. It mattered,” you said, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get it.
“You matter.”
You scoffed. “I did.”
“You do.”
You turned away from him with a huff. “You don’t understand. You can’t.”
“Goodnight, little human.”
You fell into a fitful sleep against the cold stone of the cave. When you woke, however, you felt warm and safe. 
You opened your eyes to find Pytho standing over you, his body heat covering you in waves of warmth, even when he wasn’t touching you. 
“You were shivering,” he said, like it was that simple. You were cold, he was warm. There wasn’t anything else to be done. You hadn’t even known he understood what shivering was. 
You slid away from him, back into the cold. 
He watched you. That’s all he ever seemed to do. Watch you. “You’re mad at me but you’re punishing yourself.”
You didn’t dignify that with a response. “Let me go back.”
“I will not.”
You tried to sleep again but the cold felt harsher now, crueler. It was your turn to watch him, remember the waves of heat across your skin. 
You waited until his breathing leveled out, the rise and fall of his chest becoming uniform. You couldn’t handle a smug look or excitement. You just needed to sleep. 
You took the few steps between you slowly and gently leaned against his side. 
Almost instantly, without thinking, he curled around you, bundling you up in a nest of warm scales. His breathing was steady against your side. 
You’d never slept better. 
You woke to find his head a few inches from yours, propped up on his tail and staring at you with a soft gaze. 
“Good morning,” he said.
You gave him a hum of acknowledgment back. 
You were wracked with guilt. How could you be enjoying this, allowing yourself even these minor comforts? It wasn’t right. None of this was right. 
You pulled away from him, feeling sick.
Traitor. You’d betrayed them after they’d put so much trust in you. Who knew what was happening to them now, while you slept feeling warm and comfortable. 
“You still want to go?” he asked in hushed tones as you backed away, clearly afraid of the answer. 
You nodded. “I’m always going to want to go. I have to make this right.”
He let out a pained whine and moved towards you slowly, giving you the chance to stop him. 
You didn’t.
“You could be happy here,” he insisted. “Why won’t you just be happy here?”
“It just wasn’t meant to be." 
“Don’t want you to get hurt,” he whined out. 
You pressed your forehead to his. “Does it not matter what I want?”
He let out a huff and hot air cascaded over your face. He was always so warm. 
You pressed a kiss to his scaly nose. “I know you want to help, but I have to do this. Please let me do this.”
And he stared. Just stared at you, like he was drinking it in, trying to memorize you. 
Finally, his face fell and you knew exactly what it meant. 
“If you change your mind…” he said. “If you ever get the chance, come back to me. You’ll always have a safe place here.”
You nodded, still holding his head in your hands. You knew you never would, but it was nice to imagine returning someday. 
You looked down at your dress, dirty and torn, and you finished ripping off the golden cuff you’d started to tear days ago. 
“You can have this if you want. For what could have been.”
His eyes were glassy. You didn’t know dragons could cry. He grasped the golden cuff in his talons, tucking it away far from the rest of the gold, instead next to his beloved sheep. “For what could have been.”
A forlorn laugh escaped you as you looked at him. All three of you had sad eyes now. 
Before either of you had the chance to rethink it, he moved towards the mouth of the cave and you followed. 
Familiar talons grasped your shoulders and you were off again. 
This time, there was no blindfold. An entire landscape unfolded below you and you watched towns and rivers and forests pass you by at incredible speeds. 
Your hands reached up to grab Pytho’s legs, the seer distance to the ground making you dizzy. 
The flight was shorter than you remembered. You wished it wasn’t but as your feet touched grass, real grass rooted in the real ground, you knew there was nothing to be done. 
He dropped you off near the village but still outside of it. It was for the best, you couldn’t imagine anyone inside the town would be particularly pleased to see him. Worst case scenario, they might even try and hurt him. 
As soon as you’d properly landed he flew off, leaving you behind. No parting words, no last look. Before you knew it he was gone, a distant silhouette on a blue sky. 
 Good. You didn’t want him to see what might happen here anyways. 
The walk back was too quiet. You could hear the birds and the wind but none of it was enough to drown out the blood rushing in your ears. 
You didn’t know why your heart was pounding so loudly. This was what you wanted. You were back, ready to repent for the crime of being stolen. 
The first person who saw you was a boy. He couldn’t have been more than ten. He wandered on the outskirts of the village but as soon as he saw you he turned and ran back into the town, probably telling tales of your miraculous homecoming. 
You’d been so caught up in your return you had managed to think of little else but now, as you neared society once more, you realized what a mess you’d become. Your sacrificial dress was brown with now much dirt it had collected, ripped and shredded and hanging off of you in tatters. You were sure your face and hair were just as dirty. 
You walked further and further into town, unsure of what to do with yourself. You’d assumed someone else would tell you what to do but instead, they grouped together and stared, whispering and pointing as you trudged your way through the village. 
As you reached the center of town, you found a gathering waiting for you. 
You stopped in front of them, waiting as they inspected you. The same people who’d helped ready you and told you how vital you were to the town now looked down at you with thinly veiled disdain plastered across their faces. 
“I came back as soon as I could,” you said, your voice sounding small and weak. 
The man at the front of the group, the one who chose the sacrifices, made speeches about its vitalness every year, spoke. His voice boomed across the gathering. It didn’t feel fair. He was accustomed to speaking to crowds like this. You weren’t meant for this, of course you sounded small. “We chose another,” he said, and his words echoed in your ears. 
Your heart sank in your chest. Of course they did. What else would they have done? At least it meant the town was safe. So why did it sting so badly? 
“I can do it next year,” you said. “Please, let me do it next year. I’m here now.”
The man turned up his nose at you. “You abandoned your post.”
You could feel yourself getting more and more frantic as he spoke. “No, I was taken. I came back as soon as I could, I promise! Please.”
“An example must be made.”
You nodded, searching for a way out, any way you could still be useful. “Anything. I’ll do anything.”
The women who’d helped you bathe and get dressed a few days prior surged forwards, grasping at your arms. They held you in place as you refused to struggle. 
“This is what happens to deserters,” he called out over the crowd.
You could barely think, barely hear his words. 
The fact that you’d been replaced kept running through your mind. You’d been raised for this. It was all you’d ever wanted. You’d dreamed of it. 
You weren’t so sure you wanted it anymore. 
It didn’t matter anyways. It was too late. You’d left. 
The man chanting to the crowd pulled out a knife. 
It felt like what you deserved. Your chest tightened with guilt and fear. Now it wouldn’t even be for anything. Just an example, nothing more. 
Maybe it was saving them, in a way. Saving them from an epidemic of girls who thought they could escape it and damn the town in the meantime. Maybe you still could die for something. 
A thudding sound echoes in your ears, slightly out of time with your heartbeat. It felt almost grounding, helped you ignore the chants of deserter and heathen. You didn’t have the strength to try and defend yourself, to insist that no, you’d fought to come back. You weren’t even sure you believed that anymore. You latched onto the thudding, anything to get those words out of your head. 
And then the arms that had held you down were being ripped away and instead you found yourself being lifted. This was not the endless upwards motion of your dragon. Instead, you found yourself hoisted onto the back of a horse. 
Hard metal dug into your side and you looked up to see a knight in full armour, his face hidden by his helm and his arm hooked around your waist. 
You pounded your fists against him, fighting to be let go. “No!” you shouted. “I need to do this. I need to be forgiven.”
The knight's grip on you tightened and the horse you were both on sped up. Neither seemed to find your fighting anything more than mildly inconvenient. 
Before long, your struggle slowed. You were becoming very used to the intense frustration that accompanied being trapped, being taken away with no regard for what you wanted. 
You lost track of time as you rode. You’d just been trying to make things right, even if you couldn’t do what you were meant to do. The universe seemed intent on stopping you. 
Maybe you’d done something wrong, offended the cosmos so severely you were no longer permitted to do what you were meant for. 
As the horse slowed, the knight's grip on you loosened. 
He set you gently on the ground in the midst of this unfamiliar forest and you glared up at him. 
“Can I go now?” you hissed. “Or am I still being kidnapped?”
“There were going to kill you,” he said as he dismounted his horse.
“You don’t know what was going on,” you insisted. “Maybe I deserved it.”
He rummaged around in his saddlebag. “Maybe.”
You reeled back a little, not expecting him to agree with you. “Oh. Can I go back then?”
“No. Here, eat this.” He held out some dried meat in your direction.
You refused it. It would be a waste anyways. 
“Why can’t I go?” you asked. If he didn’t even know if you were in the right, what reason could he possibly have for taking you? 
“I’ve heard about your village, you know. I was worried I was too late. They’ve messed with your mind. It’s not your fault but you’re not making good choices right now.”
“My choices are fine,” you shouted. “Who are you to decide that? You don’t even know what I did.”
“What did you do?”
“I shirked my duty. I should have been there.”
“For what?”
“To be their sacrifice.”
“You didn’t deserve that.”
You did, but he couldn’t know that. It was beyond him. 
It was hard to remember where you were. It didn’t make sense. Why weren’t you home? Or were you? You knew that you should be. Why wouldn’t you be? 
You saw your dress, dirty and crumpled and ripped. You’d ruined it. How would you go through with the ritual now? 
Something in you always knew you’d ruin it somehow. And now things were all wrong. Who else’s fault could it be?
The knight pushed some food at you and once again you were in a forest far from home. 
You threw it back at him. “I said I don’t want it. Aren’t you going to eat?”
That damn helmet stared back at you for a moment before he said, “Maybe later.”
“Do you have a name?” you asked, desperate to get anything from him. 
“Phillip.”
You missed your dragon. At least you could see his face and try to figure out what he was thinking. 
He got up without warning, and you jumped a little at the sudden movement. 
He froze for a second as you did, staring down at you before continuing on, trudging through the nearby bushes. 
He returned in a few moments. 
“There’s a pond back there,” he said, gesturing towards the foliage. “It’s not too cold, you should be fine.” He started to move back towards his horse before pausing for a moment and adding, “It might make you feel better.”
You went to inspect this pond as he tended to his horse. 
It was a small pond, the trees around it curling over the top of it, mostly blocking out the sun. You dipped your foot into the water and found that the knight was technically right, it wasn’t cold enough to hurt you. It still wasn’t a pleasant temperature but right now it was the best you were going to get. 
As you tested out the water, you watched from behind the bushes as he mounted his horse and started to ride away. 
It made sense. You wouldn’t want to keep you around either. At this point, you were just ungrateful dead weight. 
You considered taking off your dress and attempting to keep it dry but at this point, it consisted more of rips and dirt than anything. Dousing it in water might do it some good. 
You sunk into the cold water, doing your best to get the dirt out of your hair. As long as you were in here, you might as well attempt to get clean. 
You wondered if you could find your way back to Pytho’s cave. If you could manage to get close you were sure he’d be able to find you. At least you hoped he would. It was the only place you had left to go. 
You had no real desire to prolong the bath in the cold water. You just didn’t know what came next. After this, where could you even go?
Your fingers began to prune and you know you couldn’t do this forever. 
As you exited the pool in your sopping wet, muddy, ripped ceremonial dress, you decided you needed to go. You weren’t sure if you were trying to find your village or Pytho but it didn’t really matter, you had no sense of what direction either was in. You just needed to be headed somewhere. 
You made it half a dozen steps before you collapsed. 
You didn’t even notice he’d returned until he was right in front of you, staring down at you collapsed in the dirt in your soaking-wet dress. 
You watched his helmet as he looks you up and down, lingering a second too long on your chest before snapping his head back up towards your face.
He cleared his throat and you would have bet money that his face was bright red beneath his helm. 
“Apologies, my lady. I thought you might want some fresh clothes.”
He held out some folded clothes with a pair of leather boots balanced atop them. 
No. It wasn’t right. This was supposed to be the last outfit you ever wore. It felt like a betrayal to take it off. 
“No thank you,” you said from your spot on the ground. “I’ll stick with what I have.”
“I know they’re not much but they’ll fit.”
You shook your head again. 
You heard a quiet, muffled sigh escape him. “The sun is setting, you’ll freeze to death if you wear those. You can change back in the morning if you really want to.”
You eyed him suspiciously. “Promise?”
He nodded. “Promise.”
You took the clothes with a sigh. “Fine. Turn around.”
You’d never seen him move so fast. It was like he was afraid you’d start stripping the second you decided to change. 
A giggle escaped you and you watched his shoulders tense up at the noise. It seemed like the two of you were having entirely different kinds of crises. 
You got dressed as quickly as you could, a chill starting to set deep in your bones. He’d found you a faded red tunic that hung midway down your thighs and some pants that miraculously fit pretty well. 
The boots had thick woolen socks inside and putting them on felt like heaven. You swore you’d never wear pretty shoes again as long as these were an option. 
You didn’t bother telling Phillip he could turn around. He’d figure it out in his own time. Or he wouldn’t. It wasn’t really your problem. 
As you got ready to sleep, you watched him, keeping track of time as best you could. It took him about twenty minutes before he finally peeked over his shoulder, finding you sitting with your back against a tree. 
You gave him a halfhearted smile and he cleared his throat. “You should rest now,” he said. “We have to leave at dawn.”
“And when are you going to stop dragging me around with you?”
“Whenever you’d like. I can drop you off at a town tomorrow. I just have something I need to attend to first”
You knew by now not to get hopeful. “Can you drop me off at my town?” You kept asking but you didn’t know what the point of it was. There was nothing for you there anymore. The most you could do was repent. Pay for what you’d done. But for what?
“I can drop you off at any other town.”
You slid down the tree, basically lying on the ground. “Alright. 
He spent the rest of the night in full armour and you wondered if maybe part of him thought you might attack him. Either that or these woods were more dangerous than you knew. 
He awoke you the second the sun began to peek over the horizon and you groaned, trying to kick him away from you. 
He would not be deterred, coaxing you up and onto the back of his horse. You got on behind him and wrapped your arms around him for stability with minimal protest. You didn’t have the energy to fight him on it. 
It took you too long to realize you'd left your dress behind, discarded in the mud.
The ride was much more comfortable when you weren’t being held captive. 
Forests and plains and mountains passed, all foreign and strange. You’d never left your town before, never seen anything like this. Even in your bad mood, it was hard not to admire it. 
Your heart stopped as you noticed one of the mountains that the two of you were fast approaching seemed familiar. 
It had taken you too long to recognize it but in your defense, you were used to seeing it from a cave right at the peak.
You shut your eyes and prayed to anyone that might be listening that you’d ride right by it. 
If the gods were listening, they had a special hatred for you. You weren’t sure you could blame them. 
 Phillip lead the horse along the precarious path you’d deemed too dangerous only days ago.
You needed to figure out a plan but you had nothing. 
With only a few minutes left before you reached the peak, Phillip dismounted, holding out his hand to help you down. You half considered trying to take his horse to go warn Pytho but you had no real idea how to ride one on your own and you couldn’t shake the feeling you’d ride the pair of you right off the cliff edge. The poor creature didn’t deserve that. 
You dismounted and Phillip nodded, getting right back on the horse. “You stay here, I won’t be long.”
“No,” you yelled, a little louder than was necessary. Phillip flinched, probably worried it had echoed up the mountain and warned the dragon at the top of his presence. You hoped it had. “I want to come.”
“These are dangerous lands, m’lady. I will not let you get hurt.”
You scowled at him. “You know, people won’t stop saying that to me.”
The helm stared down at you, unwavering, before he gave his horse a swift kick in the side and it rode up the narrow path. 
You took off in a dead sprint after him. 
You neared the top of the path, panting, just in time to see Phillip creeping into the cave, sword drawn and at the ready. 
You had no idea what to do. You couldn’t just stand here and do nothing but you felt frozen in place. 
The problem was, you’d rather neither of them were hurt. It felt like an impossible situation. 
Pytho needed to be warned but as gentle as he’d been with you, he could decimate Phillip in a second. That much you were certain of, no matter how competent of a knight Phillip might be. 
You finally willed yourself to move, darting into the cave to see Pytho standing over Phillip, who had his sword positioned right at the dragon’s neck. 
Before you could even think, you shouted, “Don’t hurt him!”
You had no real idea which of them you were talking to but both stopped in their tracks, heads spinning towards you. 
For one moment you were terrified one would take advantage of the distraction to harm the other and then their blood would be on your hands. Before the worry had time to settle, Pytho swung his tail around, hitting Phillip over the head with it. 
He instantly collapsed to the ground, going limp. 
You rummaged around in the saddlebag as Pytho stared at you. When you finally found rope you raised it triumphantly. 
Pytho’s gaze followed it up. “What is that?” he asked as you rushed towards the knight. 
“It’s rope,” you informed him as you tried and failed to drag him across the floor. As soon as Pytho realized what you were doing, he swept him effortlessly into the corner for you. 
You bound his hands behind his back, tethering him to some heavy golden chair that would at least slow any escape he tried to make. 
“You’re back,” Pytho said behind you, his voice airy and incredulous and so very grateful. 
You turned from binding the knight with a big smile. “I am. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it back but this guy led me right here,” he said, nudging at him with your foot. 
He didn’t seem to hear any of it. “I can’t believe you’re back.” His eyes were wide, refusing to leave you. 
You nodded, grabbing Phillip’s abandoned sword and throwing it right off the mountain, listening to the clanging noises as it bounced all the way down. You glanced nervously at Phillip as you returned, leading his horse over by the sheep. “I am. This is so rude but can you please go for a couple minutes? If you’re still here when he wakes I’m afraid he might perish from fright.”
He nodded. “If that’s what you want. I will be back.” 
He bumped his head lightly into you before heading out, flying off somewhere. 
And not a moment too soon. 
The knight stirred from his slumber. The only way you could tell was by how his helm slowly moved up, rising to meet your gaze. 
The second he did he tried to move before realizing he was bound. “Why?” he asked you. “I don’t understand, you… Was this all a trap?” His voice cracked and he sounded genuinely hurt by the betrayal. 
You felt a pang of sympathy in your chest as he struggled against his bindings. Quiet fearful noises escaped him as he glanced between you and Pytho’s horde.
You shushed him, your hands up in a quiet surrender. “We’re not going to hurt you. You’ll be just fine.”
“We? You’re in cahoots with this monster?”
You bristled at the harsh langue but did your best to be forgiving to the frightened man. 
“He’s not a monster. He helped me. Why are you even here? He hasn’t hurt anyone.”
“That’s not what I heard. From what I’ve heard he’s been snatching up women.”
You groaned, rubbing at your temples. As you did, the knight leaned forward as much as he could and even through the stoic armour, you could tell exactly when he realized. 
“No. But… but you….”
“I just wanted to help my people. I don’t know why every creature within a thousand miles is trying to stop me.”
“If he took you, how did you escape?”
“I didn’t. I asked him to let me go, to be able to make my own choices, and he did. Because he respects me and didn’t kidnap me on the back of a horse!” You tactfully decided to omit the original kidnapping. At least for now. You had a feeling it wouldn’t help your case. 
“Please, it’s a dragon, it…”
“He! He’s a dragon! And at least he’s allowed me to make decisions.”
He reeled back. “I… you were going to get yourself killed. I couldn’t just let you get yourself killed. It isn’t right.”
“And it’s not your choice to make.”
He hung his head, helmet clanging against his chest plate. 
Pytho chose then to return, his tail swishing happily as he walked. He rubbed up against your side, letting out a happy rumble as he did. 
“So they let you go?” Pytho asked, ignoring the man on the floor. 
“Not exactly. They were going to kill me. They wanted to make an example of me.” You couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t imagine that the example they wanted to set was getting rescued by a knight but I suppose that’s the hand they were dealt. 
Pytho turned his gaze to Phillip. “You saved her?”
He nodded hesitantly. 
Another pleased noise escaped Pytho. “He’s a good one. I’m glad you didn’t let me kill him.”
“About that,” you said and you watched Phillip freeze up, all of his limbs locking. You glanced at him, adding, “I said we weren’t going to hurt you, calm down. I was just going to say, Pytho, you should let him go.”
The dragon tilted his head. “Why? I like him, he’s shiny.”
You suppressed a laugh. “He’s not shiny, his armour is. It’s like clothing.”
“Oh. Why do you creatures insist on that stuff? Seems awfully restrictive.”
Phillip cut into your conversation, saying, “I can’t leave.”
You looked over at him, a wave of irritation rushing through you. “Why not?”
“I can’t leave you here with this beast.”
You had half a mind to throw something at him. “Get this through your head, I don’t need you to save me.”
“It wouldn’t be right,” he continued, undeterred. 
“Fine. But I’m not untying you and risking you hurting him.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Pytho’s head swiveled between the two of you as you bickered. As the argument finally finished, he asked in a hushed tone, although still lough enough that Phillip could hear, “Does that mean we get to keep him.”
You snorted. “Guess so. It’s your lucky day.”
“It really is,” he said, voice as genuine as it could be. 
The sunlight was fast fading and you knew how cold it could get in here. You had no intention of sleeping alone but you glanced at your mostly willing captive. 
“Pytho?” you called out. 
He turned to you immediately. “Yes? Do you need something?”
“Could you go get some wood?”
“Of course I can,” he said, already speeding off. 
When he returned, he had a whole tree in his mouth and another in his talons, dirt still clinging to their roots. 
You bent over laughing as he dropped them both in front of you, tail swishing behind him. They’d barely fit through the mouth of the cave, filling up a significant amount of the room and knocking over at least one pile of gold in the meantime. 
You got to work snapping off some of the more reasonably sized branches, having Pytho move the trees back outside as you finished. 
You set them up a few feet away from Phillip, far enough away that he’d be safe but could still feel the warmth. 
“You can breathe fire right?” you called back to Pytho. It would be unfortunate if he couldn’t because you did not have the proper tools to start one here. 
He nodded, visibly eager. “Do you need one?”
“Just on the sticks here. Make sure not to burn anyone,” you said, nearing Phillip to ensure that he didn’t forget there was a person inside of the shiny armour and cook him. 
With a quick and surprisingly controlled burst of flame, the pile of sticks turned into a quaint little fire. 
You gave Phillip a pat on the shoulder as you headed over to Pytho. “Goodnight. Have fun sleeping in full armour.”
He didn’t respond. 
You left the fire behind to go curl up with Pytho. No fire could compare to his warm scales, of that you were certain. 
A happy rumble escaped him and ran through you as you leaned against him. 
He spoke in hushed tones, face right in front of yours as his tail curled around you. “I can’t believe you came back.”
“I shouldn’t have,” you said, giving him a quick kiss on his snout. “But I think I realized I didn’t really want to be anywhere else.”
His head leaned into your touch immediately, a wistful look in his eyes. 
“I wish I could do that.”
“What, kiss me?” you asked with a laugh. “Well, how do dragons kiss?”
Without another word he licked a long stripe up the side of your face, leaving a sticky residue behind. 
You giggled as you felt his spit on your cheek. “Well, my way is definitely less messy.”
He let out a noise that sounded almost like a purr, resting his head in your lap. “I like it your way.”
You hummed quietly and you wished he could feel it reverberating through his body the way you did for him. You curled happily into warm scales, surrounded by an overwhelming sense of safety, and fell asleep in your new home. 
The next morning, you realized you had no idea how to tell if Phillip was awake or not. He could have escaped and left only his empty armour behind and it would be impossible to tell. 
What you did know was that he hadn’t eaten. 
Pytho still had some slightly stale bread from your last stay here and you’d brought in all of Phillip’s supplies. You grabbed some dried meat and the freshest of the bread that you could find, heading over to him. 
“Good morning,” you said, hoping he could hear you.
He shifted, just barely, to turn to you. It seemed like the most positive reaction you could hope for. 
“Okay, you need to eat. Here, just let me.” You went to lift his helm but paused as he flinched away from your hand. 
“Please don’t.” His voice was low and shaky. 
You backed off, keeping your hands up and away from him. “Okay,” you said, “But you do need to eat.” 
There wasn’t any other way to do it. You reached behind him, pressed close to him as you untied his hands. As you struggled with the knots, you felt his breath hitch in his chest. 
After a few moments, you pulled away from the newly freed knight, rope in hand. “Tada.”
He froze once more, something you were getting used to, and just stared down at the rope for a minute, flexing his hands by his sides. 
With no warning, he grabbed the food you’d gathered for him and stood on shaky legs, giving you a small nod before he headed out toward the mouth of the cave. It was near where the animals were being kept, tied up to some golden pillar near the front. If he wanted to, he could leave here and now.
You waited patiently for him, avoiding looking in his direction, even if you were sure he’d gone far enough that you wouldn’t be able to see him. 
He quickly returned, fast enough that he must have scarfed down his food.
He presented his hands to you and it took a second to realize he was waiting to be tied up again.
You scoffed, looking at him dubiously. “Is that really necessary?” It seemed silly to tie him up again after that.
His hands stayed out and you rolled your eyes as you grabbed the rope. 
You tied them in front of him this time, taking much less care with the knots as you did. 
“Where are you a knight of?” you asked as you pulled the knot taut. “I see no insignias anywhere on you. That doesn’t seem normal.”
“My kingdom is long gone, m’lady.”
“Still so respectful, even after everything I’ve put you through. Well, sir knight, how can you be a knight with no kingdom to serve?”
His head cocked to the side as if baffled by the question. “I know nothing else.”
You paused a moment before asking. “How long have you been doing this?”
He remained ever impossible to read, although that never stopped you from trying. After a long, stoic pause, he simply shrugged and said, “I’ve lost track of the years.”
“And so what? No kingdom to speak of, you just keep fighting?”
“I do what I’ve always done.” Like it was as simple as that. 
“Don’t you get tired?”
“I never have the time.”
“Well, sir knight, I think you were just about due for some rest anyways.”
He didn’t respond, the helmet following you as you left him.
He was so stoic. You weren’t sure how it was easier to get a read on a dragon than a man but somehow he’d managed it. 
Anything other than silent staring began to feel out of place. 
“M’lady,” Phillip called out. You turned, confused. It wasn’t like him to start a conversation. 
“Yeah?”
“Where is my sword?” he asked. 
You’d forgotten he was unconscious for that. “Oh. I threw it off the mountain.”
“You what? Why?”
Pytho chimed in immediately. “I can get it.”
You shifted between him and the entrance to the cave as quickly as you could. “No, you will not.”
“Why?” asked Phillip.
“What do you mean why? You tried to kill him.”
“I won’t attack him unprovoked.”
“You already did attack him unprovoked.”
“I didn’t have all the information. For that, I am truly sorry, sir.”
Pytho’s chest puffed up at the title. “You are forgiven. And I am sorry that I almost destroyed you.”
That caused Phillip to reel back a little. “You did not. I can best a dragon easily, I almost slit your throat.”
Pytho huffed and you smelled a bit of smoke on his breath. “You did not.”
“Okay,” you said, cutting in. “You’re both very dangerous. I’d still love it if we could keep the sword where it is.”
Phillip nodded. “I understand your hesitancy.”
He said it tied up on the floor. Despite not having a weapon, despite his promise not to try and hurt Pytho, despite the fact that you'd already untied him so he could eat. 
“This is stupid,” you said, pacing up to him and immediately setting to work on the knots and ignoring his quiet noises in protest. 
It didn’t take long to undo them, you’d put barely any effort into tying them in the first place. 
“We have to free you so you can eat anyway, I don’t understand your obsession with this little performance.”
Phillip froze, still holding his hands together despite the lack of rope. 
“What should I do?” he asked you quietly. 
You threw the rope to the side. “That’s up to you.”
It took him hours before he was even willing to stand from his spot on the floor. 
His movements were all colored by hesitation. You understood. The freedom made staying a choice. And even when he managed to stand, to move from his corner, he stayed.
He stuck to his corner as often as he could, but nonetheless, he stayed. Watching him sleep alone in the cold, you were certain that this was how Pytho had felt every night when you froze your ass off far away from him. 
You both lit the fire for him every night. Pytho has started running off to get wood without you even asking, even if the trees that remained outside left you with enough wood to last years. 
His armour got lighter as time passed, forgoing pieces from time to time. No matter what, the helmet stayed. It felt like a part of him, like you could imagine there possibly being a man under there. 
He was adjusting to the newfound freedom about as well as you’d expected. 
With every small sign of growing comfort, something else went wrong. 
A few days after his freeing, while Pytho was out gathering more food for the two of you to eat, you heard him muttering in the corner. 
You drifted closer and he paid you no mind. You couldn’t make out any words but you could tell it was frantic.
“Phillip,” you said softly, doing your best not to startle him. “Are you alright?”
You had no idea if you’d frightened him, he remained entirely unreadable. All except for his hands. He had foregone his gloves and much of the armour on his arms and you watched as he nervously fidgeted, threatening his fingers together, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly, his hands never staying still for more than a moment. 
“I’m wasting time here,” he said. “I have things to do. I have a duty to this land.” 
You knew it was near impossible to get through to him but you couldn’t help the urge to try. “It’s a waste to rest?”
“It is. I need to go, need to continue on.”
You sat beside him, as close as you could get without touching. “You should take me back home on your way. I’ve got a duty too, you know.” 
His head fell back. Metal against stone sent a clanging noise echoing across the walls. “That’s different. You were brainwashed.”
“I wasn’t. The monsters are real you know. I’ve seen them. We all do, every year. I really would have been saving them. Whatever girl they chose instead of me really did save them. Maybe you don’t think it’s right. That’s fine. It’s an important duty nonetheless.”
“It’s not the same. I’m not being marched to my death.”
“People will still need saving in a week, in a year, in a century. There’s no real, final end to it. There has to be ends to it for you. Little ones. There just has to be.”
His head was turned towards you and you squirmed, feeling like you were being studied. 
Finally, he said, “It upsets you.”
“What?”
“That I never stop. That upsets you?”
You nodded. “It does.”
“I can stand tiny ends to it. To ease your mind.”
A sad laugh escaped you. “I’d rather you did it for you.”
“That’s the best I can do right now. You’re the same, aren’t you?”
And you supposed you were. “I can’t go back. I can’t do that to him. Or to you, I guess.”
A small laugh escaped him, a noise you weren’t sure you’d ever heard from him before. “You guess. I’ll take it.” 
Pytho returned, entering the cave a little too quickly and knocking one of his piles of treasure over. He dropped a cart in front of you, this one with boxes of pastries covering it. 
“The humans seemed to love this one,” he said with his disarming, open-mouthed grin. 
“Who are you taking those from?” Phillip asked incredulously, and you were almost certain you could hear a smile in his voice. 
You grabbed something that looked chocolatey and when you felt that it was still warm you almost sobbed. “I don’t care who he’s taking it from,” you said, taking a massive bite of it. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
You scarfed down three pastries, offering a small piece to Pytho, just so he could taste it. He spat it back out, questioning how you could ever eat something like that. 
And then you remembered your stoic knight, still sitting beside you, just watching you eat, and a sense of guilt overtook you. 
“I’m sorry,” you said and he perked up as you addressed him. “You know, I could turn around or we could close our eyes. We wouldn’t have to see anything. So we could eat together.”
You didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t wait for him to politely refuse, instead turning around and signaling for Pytho to do the same. You shut your eyes, just for good measure, as you leaned against the dragon. 
The quiet thud of the helmet being set on the floor made your heart swell. 
As you took another bite of a pastry, this one filled with a beautiful lemon cream, he slid his hand into your open one and ate behind you, slower than he’d ever eaten before. 
Even if it was for you, you hoped he enjoyed it. 
And still, no matter how much progress you made, every night he still slept in that goddamn corner. 
You were glad Pytho curled up around you at night because then at least you couldn't see him, sad and alone next to his fire, away from the two of you. 
You knew Pytho could tell it bothered you. He always did his best to distract you, pull all of your attention to him. He’d gotten pretty good at it. 
He was nuzzling into your side, pulling giggles from you as he gave you a big, slobbery kiss on your face. 
“What are dragon kisses for?” you asked. 
“What?”
“I’m just curious. Humans kiss their kids, their partners, their parents, all sorts of people they love. Dragon kisses don’t feel like something you can do as casually as a kiss on the cheek.”
Pytho perked up immediately. “You love me?”
You pressed a kiss into his cheek. “Of course I do.”
He purred at you as he answered your question. “Well, dragon kisses are just for mates. We aren’t an overly affectionate species.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You know, maybe you can’t kiss like a human but I could kiss like a dragon.”
He tilted his head and you decided to take the gesture as a challenge. 
You opened your mouth and licked a broad stripe up the side of his face. His scales tasted ashy and were incredibly smooth against your tongue. 
A wave of heat passed through him as you did, a deep guttural sound escaping him. 
You pulled back, trying to get a better look at him. 
“What was that?” you asked quietly. 
He ducked his head down in a poor attempt to hide from you. “Nothing. It was nothing.”
Something clicked in your head. “Hold on. You said dragons only kiss their mates.”
He nodded hesitantly. 
“You kiss me all the time though.”
He whined again, his tail moving away from you and curling in front of him. “I’m sorry. I know it’s strange, I know you’re human, I can't help it. You're so soft and nice and I love you so much…”
As his words got more frantic you kissed his snout again, shushing him. “You should’ve told me. If I’d known my big, strong dragon wanted me maybe I could’ve done something about it sooner.”
You practically watched his eyes glaze over, head tucking into your chest as he purred more. 
You gave him all the kisses you could, peppering them along his head wherever you could reach. After about a dozen, you decided to try another dragon one, licking along his jaw. 
You were flipped and pinned under him in a second, looking up at a ravenous face. His wings were folded over the two of you, blocking you from the outside world. In here, it was just the two of you. 
You couldn’t be happier. 
“Please, let me see you,” he hissed and you struggled to get your clothes off as quickly as you could. You kicked your pants off and they got caught on your ankles, spurring on a minor giggling fit, feeling absolutely giddy. 
And he just watched, perfectly content to stare down at you as you waged a minor battle against your clothes, desperate to get your bare skin against his. 
As you lay below him, finally fully naked, you didn’t feel shy or self-conscious. It felt right, the two of you, like this. 
“I will never understand clothes,” he informed you. “Why would you ever cover this up?”
His head shifted around, looking at every part of you he’d never gotten to see before. 
As his head moved downwards, you could tell exactly when he noticed how wet you were. He stopped moving entirely, nostrils flaring and eyes locked on you. 
He nosed at you and you opened your legs for him, spreading them as wide as they could go. 
His tongue snaked out instantly, licking a hot stripe through your folds. Whatever he found there seemed to interest him because the next thing you knew his thick tongue was snaking deep inside of you, your walls stretching around him. 
You let out a strangled cry, fighting to not snap your legs closed at how overwhelming the sensation was. 
His content vibrations ran through you, causing a spark of pleasure to run up your spine. 
His tongue found a spot deep inside of you that’d didn’t quite feel like the rest, rubbing against it experimentally and you slapped your hand over your mouth, trying not to scream. 
It was too much. You’d never felt anything like this before. 
His jaw was cracked open over your stomach, his impossibly long tongue reaching as far into you as it could go. 
His tongue slowly withdrew from you and you didn’t know whether to beg for him to keep going or take your reprieve from the overwhelming sensation while you could. 
You noticed his hips shifting and glanced down. Your heart skipped a beat. 
He was massive, probably a foot long. 
“That’s not going to fit,” you whispered.
The dragon shook his head. “No, I would never try. You’re too small, it would break you. I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“What about you?” you asked, feeling bad you couldn’t reciprocate. 
“I have everything I need,” he said, nuzzling into your chest once more. “But if you want someone your size, we could always ask for help.”
Your face heated as you realized what he was implying. To be honest, you’d entirely forgotten Phillip was there, too caught up in what you were doing. Oh god, he’d probably heard everything. 
Pytho lifted his wings as you looked at Phillip, who had turned to face the wall. 
“I am so sorry,” you called out, embarrassment washing over you. 
He turned to you slowly and you prepared to get yelled at. 
Instead, his voice came out breathy and strained. “Do you want me to help?”
Your heart skipped a beat as you stared back at him. “I do. 
He moved towards the pair of you. “I live to serve”
You wanted to kiss him. You wanted so badly to kiss him and you just couldn’t.
So instead you made do, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards you. He fell next to you, both of you leaning against Pytho. 
He froze a little as your hands neared his helmet and you whispered, “Trust me.”
He untensed, although you could sense his anxiety. 
You grasped the side of his helmet slowly, tilting it gently to the side to reveal a sliver of his neck. You moved towards it, taking all the self-control you had to go slowly. 
He shivered as you neared him, your breath ghosting over his skin. 
You started gently, pressing soft kisses into his skin. 
Before long you wanted more, nipping at his neck and sucking marks into it as he let out little whines. You could feel his throat move as he swallowed, could feel his muscles tense as you moved.
Eventually, he pulled you away from him and you looked up at him, wide-eyed.
“Um…” he said, his voice shaky and high. “If you do want me to… to help. You need to stop doing that. 
You smiled, resting your forehead on his helm. “If you insist.”
The way you’d pulled at his clothes, shifting his shirt out of the way, meant you could see as he gulped. 
His hand hovered inches over your hip, as if afraid to touch you. You covered it with your own, pressing it onto bare skin. 
You didn’t mind his staring so much now. You could feel the waves of awe coming off of him as his hands gently slid up and down your sides. 
You hooked your fingers into the front of his pants and pulled him closer to you. 
“Please,” you asked. 
He didn’t bother taking his pants off, instead pulling them down just enough to get his dick out, already painfully hard. 
Pytho’s tongue had more than prepared you and Phillip seemed like if someone breathed on him wrong he might come so you wasted no time, pulling him over to you. 
Pytho sat there, watching as Phillip pushed inside of you. He was painfully slow, groaning with every inch. 
Your walls fluttered as his hand pressed tentatively down on your clit and he had to stop entirely, breathing slowly. 
“Do you know how hard it was,” he gasped out as he buried himself fully inside of you, unmoving. “Hearing all that and not touching myself. It felt like torture. 
You could feel Pytho shifting behind you, molding himself against your back as you saw his hips twitch, grinding against nothing. 
You opened your mouth to speak when your words were cut off with a sharp thrust. 
Phillip gripped your hips so hard you were worried it might bruise in the morning. You couldn’t bring yourself to care. 
He slowly found his rhythm, desperately trying to pull you impossibly closer as he thrusted inside of you.
You felt something hard against your back, moving as Phillip slammed inside of you again. And then, as if sharing one mind, you felt a sticky substance coat your back just as Phillip gave you one final, hard thrust, groaning as he came inside of you. 
As soon as Phillip pulled out, Pytho rushed to snake his tongue back inside of you. It was so dexterous, pressing up perfectly inside of you as he tasted both you and Phillip. 
Phillips fingers intertwined with yours as your back arched and you felt waves of pleasure run through you. Pytho seemed intent on working you through it, his tongue moving steadily until you could take it anymore. 
You pushed at his head and he lifted it, mouth slick and eyes looking just as dazed as you felt. 
You were all gross and sticky and you’d never been happier in your life. 
Phillip snorted. “I was supposed to kill you.”
“Plans change,” you said. 
“You never could have killed me,” Pytho declared and you couldn’t help but smile as their argument began again. 
You woke up in a tangle of limbs. Your head was tucked into Phillip's chest, his arms wrapped around you with just the tip of Pytho’s tail betwixt you. You were both entirely surrounded by him, curled up protectively around you. 
Pytho had to take both of you down to the nearest lake to get clean the next morning. He sat patiently at the edge of the pond as both of you washed off the mess from the night before. 
Phillip helped you clean, scrubbing your back and running his fingers gently through your hair as you both stood in the waist-deep water. 
You’d had the good sense to remove your clothes but Phillip had to clean his along with himself, standing in the water in his pants, shirt, and that helmet. 
It seemed a little silly but you wouldn’t bother him over it. It would come in due time. Or maybe it wouldn’t and honestly, you didn’t think you would mind. 
Pytho was content watching the two of you, occasionally shifting his tail to splash water at you, a favor you returned to him readily. 
As the cleaning finished and the three of you sat on the shore, drying off, Phillip braided your hair as you both leaned against your warm dragon. 
You were curious where he’d learned it but scared to ask, to remind him of anything other than this perfect moment. 
He did not seem to understand how precious and fragile this moment was, breaking the silence by saying, “I can’t stay here,” and shattering everything. 
You looked at him with panicked eyes and Pytho hid his head under his wing. 
“What?”
His next words came slower, more gently. “I think we’ve made a little home here. I do. But I can’t just stay.”
You nodded. You understood. “Neither can I. You’re going off adventuring again, right?”
He nodded and you immediately added, before you could lose your nerve. “I want to come.”
“It’s going to be dangerous,” he said, his voice not commanding but instead cautious and worried. 
“Please. I need to do something, to help someone. I feel like I’ve got a debt on my back. I can’t let it hang over me like this forever.”
He went to protest but you stopped him. “I don’t care what you think, I can’t live with it. Please.”
He nodded. “First, we’re going to need to find my sword.”
You gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sure it won’t be too hard.”
“And we can’t come back every night,” he continued. “You’re going to have to spend days on the road. You sure that’s what you want?”
You rolled your eyes. “I think I can manage for a few days.”
Pytho lifted his head from where he was hiding it. “Come back? You said you can’t stay?”
It took a second to understand what he could possibly be asking. The idea of leaving him forever was so inconceivable to you that you hadn’t realized what this must have looked like. 
You rushed over to him, kissing his forehead. “No, I’m not leaving you. Neither of us are. We just…I just can’t stay in a cave for the rest of my life.”
“People will still need helping,” Phillip chimed in, standing behind you. “I won’t ever stop doing this. It’s what I was made to do. But it's been too long. I think it was about time I found a home to come back to.”
You smiled at him as you leaned into your dragon’s side. “I think it was.”
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gojonanami · 4 months
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"JUST A LITTLE LONGER" - SATORU GOJO
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✴︎ summary: after geto defects, you find yourself on a roof of a building wondering where things went wrong - and you're not the only one. based off another scene from apothecary diaries. ✴︎ contents: gojo x f!reader, fluff, angst about geto, gojo cries, reader does too a little, but cuddling from behind, i love this scene so much it's so cute, and jinshi is so gojo coded ✴︎ wc: 821
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This was probably a stupid idea. 
And it was, you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from doing it anyway. A cursed spirit could kill you any day, so what was falling off a roof? Besides, you took another shot of sake, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to care about the possible chance of falling to your death after today. 
Suguru was gone. 
Defected, after slaughtering so many people — or monkeys as he called them now. There was no changing his mind — no going back. Suguru was a person of conviction — you supposed he still was. Shoko simply went with the flow, Satoru knew what his duties were, and you — you didn’t know what you were doing, but you thought maybe it was enough if you could help just one person every day. Especially if that person was one of your friends. 
And yet you didn’t see one of your friends needing your help, did you? 
So why were you sitting up on the roof of one of Jujutsu Tech’s buildings? You didn’t know either — you had a whole suite of aloneness you could have drank in, but you choose to take a shot in the same place that you, Suguru, Shoko, and Satoru drank in on late nights between assignments. 
Shoko would tease you — too sentimental for your own good — that’s what she always told you, but you couldn’t help it. Not after a night like this. But sitting up here wouldn’t resolve anything would it? 
And you began to carefully climb down, thinking about how much easier it was when Suguru used a cursed spirit to help you up (even when he really wasn’t supposed to summon them on campus). Fuck, your eyes burn with tears. You missed him— 
Your foot slips, as you fall backwards, into the awaiting arms — more like the awaiting body of someone below. You hear a grunt as you tumble backwards into them, your body and mind in shock, wondering what person you possibly murdered with your stupidity. 
“Satoru? What are you doing here?” 
“I should be asking you that,” Satoru grumbled at you as you turned to face him, “y'know when I joked that you would be falling for me, this isn’t what I meant,” 
“Oh really? Because this is exactly what I had in mind,” you snort, and you move to get up, but he’s pulling you back with a hand around your wrist, “Toru, let me get off of you—” 
“No, it’s cold,” he pouts, and now you really take a look at him — he wasn’t wearing his glasses for once, his hair unkempt at best, and his uniform all too disheveled — and his face, porcelain skin flushed red — and the faint smell of—was that— “are you drunk?” Satoru wasn't one to drink, but you supposed it wasn't for the act of it as it was the effect.
And it may have been the moonlight, but you swore he flushed further, before he’s forcing you to turn back around, pulling you further into his lap, his arms around your middle, “Maybe,” he mumbles, “I could say the same to you,” and you spot the bottle of sake on the ground in the grass, somehow not broken, “reminiscing about old times?” he pressed his forehead against your shoulder. 
“Yeah,” you sigh, teeth baring down on your bottom lip, as his breath warmed your neck, his hair tickling your skin as he leaned closer, “when did it go wrong?” 
“More like when did i go wrong?” he mutters, words all too bitter, “I should have seen it — I should have done more—” 
“No one saw it, we didn’t realize how bad it had gotten for him since Riko,” you whispered, “none of us—” 
“You weren’t his best friend—” 
“Me and Shoko were there too,” you cut him off, “we were there too,” you say quietly, “either way, Suguru made his choices, just as we did. And there’s nothing more we can do, except for what we can do here,” and then you add, “and it isn’t your fault.” 
“Why not?” 
“Because i said so,” and he laughs then, a genuine laugh. 
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, before burying his face in the nape of your neck, his nose tickling you, and despite the cool air of the approaching fall, your body was now burning. 
“Toru—you’re tickling me—” and he’s only pulling you closer, as you finally glance back at him, “Toru—” and your words fall away, as you see a tear slip down his cheek, his eyes shut. 
“Just a little longer,” he says, barely above a whisper, his face pressed against your shoulder again, as his arms tighten around your middle, “warm me up for a little bit more,” 
You stare up at the night sky, stars dotting the night sky — such a beautiful night despite it all — as you finally let your tears slip down your cheeks silently, “I’ll stay as long as you want.” 
And you did, forever. 
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✴︎ a/n: i hope this doesn't flop like my other fics lately, but oh well lol. i wrote this quick little thing now, so forgive any typos.
✴︎ taglist: @forest-hashira, @anondrive, @neon-crow, @forest-fruits-jam, @yukuriku, @lxvegojo
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haemosexuality · 8 months
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i love life
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ambipotentsbestie · 2 months
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i need to talk about how much i love the pjo show's way of introducing annabeth's character's backstory, specifically through her getting used to percy's chronic loyalty
the way she attacks him with a hug both times she thought he might've been gone forever??? (the arch and after he returns to chb) this girl who doesn't hold her breath over people staying around for her, who is so so relieved everytime percy comes back to her
the way she is absolutely appalled by percy's insisent reassurance. his "i'm perfectly comfortable with that, people make mistakes" his "people who love you shouldn't treat you like that" his "you are better at this than me, you just are" this is just percy being percy, always seeing the best in people, and never once treating her like she has to prove anything to him to be treated with care
and she's so caught off guard every time!! she tells grover to tell percy to pull himself together. she tells him "i guess so" when he asks if he has to earn it with her too. she is IMMEDIATELY at a loss for words when percy tells her that she's the one meant for the quest. that she's better at this. that he's not trying to sacrifice himself for his own glory, it has nothing to do with him, he's only thinking of her
and that's so new to annabeth!! someone who isn't trying to make her prove anything! someone who from the beginning saw her worth! not someone like her mother, who would see her die because she felt embarassed by her. not someone like her father, who loved her at first and because of someone else, began to not(or at least she thought so). not like Thalia, who made her prove herself, who for all valiance, still died, still left her. not like Luke, who promised family, and then betrayed her.
she's not used to someone who stays just for her
or in her own words,
"He's not like that, he's better than that"
i love annabeth chase
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pacebone · 1 year
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"Young Girl with Squiddle," referred to in some archaic texts as "Bruja Infanta,"¹ is commonly considered a seminal work of the Early Carapacian Revival.² Like a majority of the paintings from this era, the original is assumed to have been lost during the fall of Prospit.³ Only alchemized copies remain today.⁴
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thatsrightice · 4 months
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Iceman may have made the climb in ranks, eventually earning the title of Admiral and Commander of the Pacific Fleet, but that didn’t mean he had to give up flying entirely right away.
Retired Rear Admiral Jay “Spook” Yakeley continued to fly as he raised through the ranks, as did a few select other Rear Admirals. In fact, Spook said that he was able to fly just about whenever he wanted given his rank on base.
“I flew all of the teen fighters in one day. I went up in a Tomcat and a Hornet in the morning. After lunch I flew an F-15E and a TOPGUN F-16. Kind of a stunt, but hey. When you’re an admiral you can do stuff like that.” - Jay “Spook” Yakeley, Rear Admiral USN (Ret.)
Ice would have definitely done that just to rub it into Mav’s face, maybe to spite the other pilots. He would have someone hold the video camera and record him, and he’ll start in front of each jet talking to the camera. Nothing much, just his name and callsign, date, time, location, the aircraft type, aircraft bureau number, etc. for record keeping and proof.
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Then he’d be filmed climbing into the cockpit and going for a fun flight performing some semi-difficult maneuvers, nothing super dangerous but still impressive. Then he would move on to the next one and repeating the process. Ice would have kept it on the down-low, spending time carefully organizing his schedule to allow for his stunt to be pulled off flawlessly without drawing attention to himself.
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Then he’ll bring the video to the next Tailhook reunion early and have the organizers set it up on a projector or video device (or however old video tech works 🫣) just waiting for when one of his friends make a jab at him for probably not being able to fly much anymore given his new rank. And he’ll just turn and give a subtle nod to the man. Maybe it would have been edited by a movie editor he has connections with or something to make him look like the BAMF he is.
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bleedingoptimism · 6 months
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Eddie is pacing, going to Tarja’s room and back to the kitchen where she’s sitting with a smile puffing her cute freckled cheeks and kicking her little feet back and forth.
He checks she has everything she needs, clothes, pajamas, scrunchies, and her drawing book. He makes sure he packed her Toothless toothbrush and her plushie. She’s been on a ‘How To Train Your Dragon’ phase for a while now.
He’s not usually that nervous about her leaving to stay at her father’s for the week.
But she’s not usually this excited either.
See, her asshole of a father, has a new boyfriend, and apparently, he’s amazing and Tarja loves him. And she can't wait to spend more time with him. 
And Eddie, he’s kind of curious and not jealous. At all. Really. He’s just curious about him, he just can’t understand how his asshole of an ex can be dating someone that’s supposedly nice, funny, and caring. Someone who talks to his kid when she’s upset, picks her up from school on time, and spends time playing around with her outside when she gets the jitters.
Tommy, his ex, is an awful person. He was the worst thing that happened to him and Eddie would’ve loved to never see him again, he just happens to also be attached to be best thing that ever happened to him, his daughter.
A one-night stand that asked him for marriage after he knocked him up, (because his father forced him to, but Eddie found that out on the divorce) that Eddie had only agreed to marry because he was scared he wouldn't be able to afford to take care of a kid alone.
He filed for a divorce so quickly after, that it was almost an annulment. Thankfully, Tommy wasn’t as bad of a parent as he was a husband, determined to be better than his own old man. So Eddie had no problem sharing custody with him. They agreed on a visitation schedule without issues and they have been civil for the last six years.
And then Tommy got a new boyfriend. And Tarja loves him. And Eddie is not jealous. He’s not.
He’s just nervous because he’s coming to pick her up and he’s going to meet him for the first time and finally see what all the fuzz is about.
The doorbell rings and Eddie checks the time and grumbles when he sees he’s pleasantly on time. Tarja jumps off the stool and runs to the entrance, “Steve!” she screams excitedly as she opens the front door.
And Eddie stands there with a little backpack that is also shaped like Toothless as the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen in his life kneels in front of his daughter and hugs her close.
“Hello, little dragon! I missed you!” he greets her and Eddie does not notice how beautiful and melodic his voice is while Steve holds Tarja’s shoulders as she jumps up and down excitedly telling him everything she’s got planned for them to do with a soft smile on his face.
And then Steve looks up and Eddie sees the warmth in his pretty brown-green eyes and he feels like he just missed a step going down the stairs. He smiles dumbly back at him as Steve gets up with Tarja sitting on his waist and extends a hand to him,
“Hi! You must be Eddie! I’ve heard so much about you!” Eddie shakes his hand and gets stuck thinking about how soft they are instead of answering so Steve keeps talking, “Only good things!” he says nervously and Eddie shakes his head and stops thinking about the two moles on Steve’s left cheek and smiles back.
“It’s nice to finally meet you! Tarja won't stop talking about you” He says and hopes it doesn't come out a little bitter.
Steve smiles bashfully and pokes Tarja’s tummy, “Yeah, she’s a little chatterbox isn’t she? I heard she got that from you” he quips.
Eddie frowns about to jokingly act offended but Steve’s eyes go huge and he blushes, “Oh! No I meant that as a good thing! I love it, I love her, I mean-” he stammers and Tarja giggles at his nervousness and Eddie melts a little.
After they exchange information, just in case, Eddie needs to remind himself, and Eddie gives Steve Tarja’s backpack there’s not much more to say so he hugs her kid and kisses her goodbye.
Steve picks her up again, “C'mon let's go,” he tells her and then purses his lips a little, “Tommy is probably waiting” he sighs warily, and oh, that’s interesting.
He waves Eddie goodbye wiggling his fingers cutely and Eddie waves back and closes the door and frowns at it,
“Man… why couldn’t I have Tarja with Steve?” 
👉 next part
☕🥐💕?
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uncanny-tranny · 5 months
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The thing that gets me about history and humanity is that you never know what is immortalized, and the things that will be immortalized are things you would never think.
I saw a person sharing a new tattoo, and it was one of Onfim's drawings. A boy who lived so long ago he is barely a blip now, but his drawings meant so much to people that somebody is now permanently marked in their skin with one of those drawings. Do you ever look at the things you make and just sit there and wonder if this is the thing that future people look at? Do you ever look at your art, your writing, your schoolwork, or anything that is yours and just wonder who will find it, who will fall in love with a piece of your humanity and become overwhelmed with emotion over? It's not unlikely. It's not totally unlikely that somebody will find a piece of you in the distant future and devoid of any other context of who you were will still love you because you were here. You were here, and you are still here, even hundreds or thousands of years later. Treat yourself with the same love that so many have for dear Onfim.
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solarmorrigan · 6 months
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Steve Harrington gives me Beach Boys vibes
Like. Steve's a little neutral on pop; he doesn't hate it, but it's not usually his first choice. But like a lot of kids, his musical exploration begins with his parents' collection
He finds his mom's Beach Boys albums when he's about twelve, a little after they start leaving on longer trips and he starts poking around the house because he's bored and alone. He can sort of remember his mom playing them when he was really young, can remember her dancing around the kitchen and being silly in ways she usually isn't
He starts playing the Beach Boys when his parents are gone, just sometimes, because the songs have a pretty good beat and the lyrics are fun and it makes him feel a little less lonely. He's got one playing one evening when his parents get home earlier than expected; his dad just shoots him a look at tells him to "turn down the damn racket" (which Steve does, quickly) before stalking up to his office, but his mom stands in the living room doorway, just watching him for a moment
It's the first time in a long time he remembers her just sitting down with him, smiling, laughing, listening to the music with him. She tells him about the first time she heard the band on the radio, and about how she'd gone out to buy their album the very next day. She tells him that his dad had called in to the local station more than once to request "Barbara Ann" because he knew it was her favorite (Steve can't imagine his dad doing anything like that, but he guesses his mom would know better than he does). She tells him that when he was little, too little to really remember, he would ask her to play "the surfing song," even though she was pretty sure he had no idea what surfing was
They don't do it again, but Steve holds onto the memory
He keeps playing the albums. He gets them on tape, when he happens to see them, and then he can play them in his car when the mood strikes. He wouldn't call himself a fan, exactly, but he doesn't have a better word for it. He ends up memorizing a lot of the lyrics, and finds that he doesn't mind having that knowledge at all
December of '85, the first holiday season Steve and Robin spend together, Robin is ready to tease Steve mercilessly for not only knowing all the words to "Little Saint Nick," but for singing along with it while standing at the counter of Family Video. In public. Steve takes it with good grace, but he also makes sure she also knows all the words by the end of their shift. They sing it together every time it comes on the overhead speakers after that
(Steve gets the feeling Robin's enjoyment is half ironic, but he doesn't mind. Her joy as she sings is sincere, and that's the important part)
Robin isn't the last convert he manages to induct, either
"Kokomo" comes out in '88, and Eddie wants to hate it. Really he does. It's really not his speed, he doesn't like surf music, but he just - he can't quite bring himself to dislike it. Not when Steve is listening to it on the radio in the kitchen, singing along, dancing around unselfconsciously while he does the dishes (moving his hips in ways Eddie does not want to associate with the Beach Boys)
But of course, the second Steve catches Eddie listening with anything other than disdain, it's all over. He turns all his attention on Eddie, singing to him, trying to beckon him into the kitchen to dance with him while Eddie valiantly tries to hold out against the fucking dork-ass romantic he's been dating for over a year
Steve points him and then curls his fingers in a "come hither" gesture as he croons along with the radio, telling Eddie to "come on, pretty mama," and Eddie has to let his head hang back while he tells Steve "I hate you," just so Steve won't see how hard he's smiling
He does end up dancing, his head resting on Steve's shoulder because he's laughing too hard to hold it up on his own, his eyes watering while Steve continues being ridiculous just for him
(It is absolutely not their song, but many years later, it does end up on Eddie's carefully curated wedding playlist. He disavows all knowledge of how it got there)
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crehador · 1 year
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me ferally writing fic based solely on vibes after only one episode of buddy daddies aired:
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rei in episode two:
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guess who psychically divined that shit (¬‿¬ )
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peterparkeeperer · 1 year
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sated boy ( Draco x reader )
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“You’re so gone.”
Your voice was endeared beyond belief, a drooling Draco slumped over your lap. He was naked. You stroked your hand over the back of his thighs.
He didn’t respond, only blinked dazedly. It was all thanks to you, you’d worked countless orgasms out of his spent dick for mouthing back. You didn’t punish him for banter. Draco was bratty and cocky and that was just apart of his personality, and you were patient. You even indulged him.
But he occasionally, or rather often, pushed your buttons on purpose. You knew him through and through, and could differentiate between his normal banter and him trying to get put into his place.
So here he laid. Ass still red from the spanking he’s received. You stroked a hand faintly above them in thought and heard your boy hiss like a petty baby snake.
“I really did a number on you, huh?”
Lube was oozing out of his hole, and with cruelty you circled the rim and pushed, only just.
He whined an aborted sound. “Best part is, you’d do more if I wanted you to. My brainless little boy.”
Alas, you left his hole alone and kissed his spine instead.
“You’re gorgeous. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
You cooed, and Draco nuzzled your hand when you pet his cheek and tucked a platinum lock behind his ear. Yes. This would sate your boy, for, well. A week.
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