Whumpee laid limply with their head in Whumper's lap, waves of horror sinking into them fully. The van's engine hummed noisily around the both of them, drowned out only by Whumper's words.
"I'm so happy to have you back... it's been ever so lonely without you. I've got everything prepared for you at home." Whumper hadn't stopped talking since they had dragged whumpee into the back of the vehicle with them. "My sweet pet... it's gonna be so nice to have you around again."
Whumper grabbed their chin for the tenth time, tilting it up to look into their eyes. Whumpee would've flinched away if they were able.
"Ghh-"
"Scared, huh?" Whumper fake-pouted. "Poor thing. I wish you could talk so i could hear you beg~ Oh well, I suppose we'll save that for later. Drugs should be wear off anytime." Whumper dropped whumpee's head, resituating their hands in their hair.
The van's engine quieted. They were at whumper's place. Whumpee let out a weak cry, the best they could at the moment.
"Oh, that's adorable~" Whumper gushed. They picked Whumpee up swiftly, holding them against their larger body. "You're nice and warm, arent you?"
"Nnh-" Whumpee managed, regaining some of their movement. They curled their fingers in halfway, lifting their head just an inch.
Whumper ignored their protest, walking out the back of the van as their henchmen opened the back doors. Whumper carried them all the way up the sidewalk leading to their large house.
"Nnnuh..." Whumpee slurred. "Nuh... no..."
"Babbling, hm? Cute." Whumper walked slowly through the familiar house towards the bedroom. "How long has it been since Caretaker rescued you, love? A year? Little over?"
"Agh," Whumpee huffed as Whumper brought them into the lavish bedroom, setting them on the bed. "Cae-a'er. Need Caretaker..."
"Not anymore. You have me again." Whumper said sweetly, lowering Whumpee. Whumpee realised with a jolt that they were being put in their cage.
"No," they cried, finding themself clinging to Whumper. This only made the taller laugh, standing up with whumpee still in their arms.
"You wanna stay with me?" Whumper teased, bringing them to the bed instead. They leaned over whumpee, grinning. "I suppose we'll get reacquainted then, hm?"
"No, stop-" Whumpee whimpered, now able to kick at them. "Please, no..."
Whumper only smiled wider, grabbing a collar out of their pocket- whumpee's collar. "Sit pretty for me, will you?" Whumper snapped it around their throat, tightening it just a little too much.
"Get off of me," Whumpee panted, their heart beating out of their chest. "I want Caretaker, please!"
"Are you gonna be this difficult all night? You know I can correct those behaviors with a couple of my tools, right?" Whumper ran their hand under Whumpee's shirt, their long fingers cold and uncomfortable against their torso. "Caretaker has undone so much of my hard work, haven't they? It's alright, sweet thing. Ill get your mind rewired in no time."
"Caretaker is coming to get me," Whumpee summoned their courage to retort. "They'll be here soon and beat the shit out of you and bring me home."
Whumper let out an amused laugh, smoothing whumpee's ruffled hair with one hand and pulling their shirt up further with the second. "Im sure they will, love. For now, I'll get you started with nice little treat..."
Whumpee shivered as whumper's finger ran under the waistband of their sweatpants.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
Caretaker blinked awake, flinching when the bright light of their living room ceiling shone into their eyes. They rolled to their side with a groan and were met with the sight of the barrel of a gun.
"Goddamn-" they cried, sitting up. The gun's muzzle whacked them right in the cheekbone, knocking them back down.
A man in a dark uniform stood over them, pushing his gun against Caretaker's chest. "Stay exactly where you are, or ill put a bullet through your heart."
"Hey, hey!" Caretaker raised their palms innocently. "What's-"
All at once, memories from hours earlier flooded their mind. They looked around at their living room, spotting two uniformed women that were also armed.
"Where is whumpee?" Caretaker asked, leaning back against the couch so the gun didn't jab so violently into their chest.
"With whumper," the man told them and checked his watch, "who should've been here a while ago."
"Oh, god..." Caretaker whispered, biting their inner lip to stall the anxiety rebuilding itself in their chest. "Why's whumper coming back?"
"You'll find out when they arrive. Just stay put and nobody gets hurt." The man poked the gun at their chest again.
So caretaker slumped back against the couch, their mind racing a mile a minute.
What if whumpee's not okay? What's whumper doing? Why are they late? Are they hurting whumpee now? Why do they want to see me?
Several minutes had passed of this before footsteps came up the wooden porch. Whumper strode in, their hair slightly disheveled and wearing a different suit.
"Ah, caretaker..." Whumper sighed, signaling their henchmen out the door with a flick of their wrist. The three filed out the door without a sound, leaving Caretaker alone with Whumper.
"Whumper," Caretaker sat up, heart racing. "What do you want? Is whumpee okay."
"Yes, yes, your timid little friend is alright. More than alright actually." Whumper smirked, standing right in front of Caretaker.
"More than alright..?"
"I made whumpee feel good, caretaker. I gave them the attention they deserve." Whumper crouched lower, gripping Caretaker by the chin. "Ive given them what I assume you've been depriving the poor thing of."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Can you smell them on my breath, Caretaker? Or rather-" Whumper leaned in and kissed them forcefully, "taste them~?"
Caretaker smacked their face away with a grunt. They wiped their lips, glaring up at Whumper.
Everything came crashing down in that moment. Caretaker's blood ran ice cold.
"No." Caretaker's voice broke. "No, no, no. You didn't- you didn't-!" They jumped to their feet, but were forced back into their seat.
"I did, Caretaker. I did and it felt so fucking great. They'll never, ever forget this night. They're still in bed right now actually... feeling as great as ever."
Caretaker screeched in fury, jumping at whumper and swinging their fist in their direction. Whumper shoved them to the ground and twisted their arm behind their back, sending sparks of pain all the way up to their shoulder.
"I think I'll tack on another hour of their pleasure for them because of that silly stunt." Whumper hissed in their ear.
"No-! Don't punish them because of me, please!" Caretaker panted, trying to ignore the searing pain in their arm.
"Oh, its not a punishment at all. I promise you, they're having a fun time..."
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
Whumpee cried out in desperation for the billionth time, tears spilling past their eyelids. The buzzing between their thighs picked up in intensity, causing their back to arch.
Whumper had left them like this- and god knows how long it'd be until they came back. It had to have been at least an hour, right? Two maybe?
They checked the clock though hazy eyes.
30 minutes had passed.
"Hel~ shit- help me!" They cried, their voice breaking into a moan. "Hurts- ev'rythin' hurts-"
Nobody came.
I need Caretaker... they'd come and hold me and play with my hair. They'd kiss me and tell me it's alright. They'd make it better.
Whumpee took a moment to imagine caretaker sitting beside them, stroking their cheek and helping them through the pain.
"Shh, honey," they'd say. "It'll all be over soon. Focus on your breathing."
Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut, trying to calm their ragged pants.
In four... hold four... out four...
A small whine escaped their lips on the exhale, their knees drawing together as the buzzing droned on.
They felt pressure rising inside them again and they braced to release again, wrapping their fingers around the chains to their cuffs.
They groaned, trying their best to hold still as the stimulation became too much. They saw spots in their vision when they opened their eyes.
Whumpee cast another teary glance up at the camera in the corner. They wouldn't give Whumper the show they wanted.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
Caretaker slumped against the wall they had been thrown against. They glared up at Whumper who, just like them, was smeared in blood.
Whumper delivered a swift kick to their torso, drawing the wind out of them.
"You know, Caretaker. You're almost as fun to beat up as my Whumpee. I'm not used to such defiance. It'd be fun to have a good couple of months with you."
Caretaker tensed at this. This is where they were supposed to be heroic and give the "take me instead" speech and beg Whumper to let them take Whumpee's place.
But they didn't. They couldn't.
Whumper scared them. They could face them now, but to be at their mercy? They wouldn't survive a day.
"Cat's got your tongue? You seem a little shaken." Whumper smiled down at them, crouching down to their level. They cupped Caretaker's cheek and rubbed up and down the side of their face.
"Get out of my house," Caretaker whispered, shaking. With rage? With fear?
"I suppose I should get back to Whumpee... they'll be missing me by now."
"As if." Caretaker spat, silently relieved when their hand left their cheek. They instantly shifted their tone as Whumper stood to tower over them. "Be gentle on them. Please."
"Oh trust me, Caretaker. It'll only get worse from here~"
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Rating: Mature | Word Count: 56,656 | Chapters: 30/30
Fandoms: Game of Thrones, A Song of Ice and Fire
Relationship: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-it of Sorts, Unplanned Pregnancy, Two-year Time Jump, Denial, Angst
Summary:
And so, at the end of all things, Brienne returned to Tarth alone, a knight and a lady both. And Jaime—Jaime, who is alive, who had knighted her and bedded her and left her—returned alone to Casterly Rock. One of them on the eastern coast, and the other on the west.
It really is as simple as that.
———
There was nothing particularly remarkable about the way the day began. The remarkable event—the event that forever alters the foundations of Brienne’s existence—that only happens later. Throughout the morning, the babe was still safe within her belly. Now, in the evening, the babe is safe within her arms. It was not such a great distance to travel, she muses, for such a great change; merely from within her body to without. Before today, the child had accompanied her on much longer journeys: from the Red Keep, back to Tarth, across the Stormlands and back again.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 44/44
Fandom: South Park
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Kenny McCormick/Leopold "Butters" Stotch, Karen McCormick & Kenny McCormick, Kyle Broflovski & Eric Cartman & Kenny McCormick & Stan Marsh, Kenny McCormick & Craig Tucker, Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Philip "Pip" Pirrip/Damien Thorn
Characters: Kenny McCormick, Leopold "Butters" Stotch, Karen McCormick, Kyle Broflovski, Stan Marsh, Eric Cartman, Craig Tucker, Tweek Tweak, Linda Stotch, Stephen Stotch, Carol McCormick, Stuart McCormick, Philip "Pip" Pirrip (South Park), Damien Thorn (South Park), Kevin McCormick
Additional Tags: High School, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Poverty, Crushes, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Bullying, Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drugs, Domestic Violence, POV Alternating
Summary:
Everyone knew that Kenny McCormick was the poorest kid in town. They could crack jokes about it all they wanted, he really didn’t care, but most of them had no idea what really went on behind closed doors. They were all able to live semi-normal lives while Kenny had to work for every little thing he had and to help support his little sister however he could. It was exhausting and he was getting really fucking sick of it.
While Butters’ family may not be poor, that didn’t mean that life at home was all fine and dandy for him either. It was like constantly walking on eggshells, being hyper vigilant about every move he made and every word that came out of his mouth. He hated it, but what could he do? Honestly, he could only keep doing his best to stay on his parent’s good side and do what he was told. Anything to avoid negative consequences.
Neither of them knew what they were doing except whatever they could in order to survive in a world that only ever seemed to be against them. Maybe it was possible that they could eventually learn to survive together.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 4/4
Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age (Video Games)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Zevran Arainai & Shianni
Characters: Male Warden (Dragon Age), Male Tabris (Dragon Age), Zevran Arainai, Shianni (Dragon Age), Cyrion Tabris, Warden's Mabari (Dragon Age), Alistair (Dragon Age)
Additional Tags: Past Zevran Arainai/Warden, Mentioned Morrigan/Warden, Arranged Marriage, Weddings, Mentions of Sex, Assassination Attempt(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Sexual Assault Related PTSD, Asexuality, City Elf Culture and Customs, tabris family, Minor Character Death
Series: Part 4 of Aftermath of a Tabris
Summary:
Shianni is ready to be an adult, but until she marries, no one in the alienage will recognize her as one. Desperate to find a solution, she enlists the aid of her cousin the Hero of Ferelden, but will everyone be able to agree to his plan?
Notes: A first date between Murtagh and the Reader! I haven't written for Murtagh in what seems like forever and apparently Christopher Paolini was answering questions the other day??? 'Murtagh would be the best traditional date as he was trained in courtly manners.' (@murtagh-thorn Thank you!!)
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The sun was hanging lower to the horizon as you made your way to Murtagh’s home. Other dragon riders, urgals, dwarves, and elves all made themselves more at home in the ever-growing settlement established some years ago by Eragon. Some nodded curtly as you passed or otherwise paid no mind as they focused on other tasks.
It still made you smile as you recalled a conversation from the later morning hours. Murtagh was quieter than he usually was, but as his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer. It peeked your attention enough that you had decided to ask what was going through that mind of his. For multiple reasons, you were very glad you had. Never had someone looked so bashful and utterly adorable while conversing with you. Not that you could have ever guessed that he wanted to dine with you that evening.
As Murtagh’s home and a familiar red dragon came into view, you embraced the anticipation of the shared joy in your first date with him.
Even though you were still a few strides away from the front door, a glowing consciousness gently nudged at your mind.
“Good evening, Thorn,” you opened your mind to him.
The large dragon bowed his head until you could look into one of his brilliant ruby eyes. My Rider has been anxiously waiting for you, Thorn hummed most musically.
“I hope he is not going through so much trouble for dinner.”
He is a little worried. He should not be. What is to worry about when eating and talking?
“Maybe the thought of eating without supervision?” You laughed softly with him.
Just as you reached out and placed your palm to Thorn’s cheek, the front door swung open.
Murtagh breathed out your name as he looked upon you. He was wearing different clothes from what you had last seen him in. That, and his hair was neatly combed, complimenting his trimmed facial hair.
“I hope I did not keep you waiting long.”
He laughed softly and said, “Not at all.” Murtagh opened his mouth to say something but turned his attention to his dragon momentarily. Then, his eyes returned to you with a small hesitant smile. “You look lovely.”
You felt a warmth grow in your chest more so than on your cheeks from the compliment. “Thank you, Murtagh.” Unfortunately, you were too surprised by the compliment to voice a one of your own for him.
A subtle thud hit the ground behind you, and you did not need to turn around to know exactly who it was.
“You two play nicely while we’re inside,” you smiled teasingly between Thorn and your own dragon.
They let out small snorts before you felt as they began to converse at the back of your mind. Your dragon seated themselves with a shake of their head while you returned your attention to Murtagh.
Stepping aside, he welcomed you into his home. Though he had mentioned a castle, it was far below the scale of one. Even with the stone walls, it still held a cozy quality. You were not sure if it was because of the addition of the furnishings or simply being in Murtagh’s presence.
Out of the entryway, you were engulfed by the aroma of the meal cooking.
“The food is almost finished, it needed more time,” he explained, having noticed your expression.
You smiled, following alongside him, “It smells delicious.”
“You can have a seat while you wait, if you’d like,” he offered, gesturing to the small table.
“That would be great. But I am here to spend time with you, I’m not just here for the food.”
Murtagh gave a soft laugh as he pulled out a chair for you.
“Thank you,” you said, sitting down. “You’ll have to excuse my surprise…I’ve never been treated so—well before.”
“I suppose you could blame my upbringing,” he said, sitting opposite you. “Besides, from what I heard, you were on your feet all day. You could use the rest.”
Leaning back more comfortably, you let yourself smirk. “Speak with Eragon, did you?”
It was as if any unsetting nerves between the pair of you fell away.
Murtagh’s shoulders raised in a small shrug, the glint in his eyes making you shake your head lightly.
“Did he also tell you how I fell face-first during training today?”
His brows nearly rose to his hairline. “Are you all right?” He asked, his voiced laced with concern.
“Yes, thankfully I caught myself…mostly.”
“Who was overseeing your teaching today?”
“Blödhgarm.”
He frowned, looking away for a moment as if he was not surprised by the knowledge.
“Other than that,” you began, hopeful to bring back the comfortable exchange, “my day went well. How was your day? Is teaching still in your future?”
“No one refused to be taught by me today…I’ll call that a success.” He gave a dry laugh.
Reaching toward the full glass in front of you, you held it up in cheers. “May you have many more successful teaching sessions.”
Murtagh raised his glass, copying your action.
Wanting to elicit another smile from the young man, you added: “For if anyone complains or otherwise, they’ll have to answer to me.”
For a moment, his eyebrows rose at your comment. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?”
“I’’m just letting you know that I have your back,” you gave a small shrug, taking a sip of your drink.
“Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome.”
Pulling his glass away from his lips, he set it down before excusing himself. “I’m going to check on the food.”
“All right,” you nodded, watching as he made his way to the fireplace.
It was not long before he carefully plated both of your dishes and you found yourself trying to hide your sudden salivating.
“i know it is not the least bit exquisite, but I do hope you enjoy it,” he said with a steady voice as he sat down.
“If it’s anything like it smells, I’m sure my plate will be cleaned off soon,” you smiled over at him as you grabbed the necessary utensils.
Murtagh’s face relaxed again. A ghost of a smile holding his gratitude.
This was certainly not the first time you had dinner together. However, there had always been someone else in attendance. More likely than not, it was Eragon. The only change was the absence of a group setting.
You gave off a small giggle to yourself in thought as you finished chewing a bite. The light sound made Murtagh look up from his plate. You spoke up before he could question you.
“Is this where we begin to ask each other obscure or ridiculous questions?”
His shoulders slacked as if thinking that you had something negative to say about the meal. However, he did catch onto your humored tone. The corner of his mouth quirked up a fraction. “For example?”
“Did you—or do you—go by a different name? Like how some call Eragon, Shadeslayer. Or how someone might give a friend a name or term of endearment?”
“That is quite a question.”
“It could have been worse,” you shrugged with a tilt of your head.
With a moment’s thought, he shook his head. “No. I did not exactly have such company that would give me a…likable name. I was hardly in good company until recently.”
A low and short bellow came from outside, making Murtagh smile down at his plate.
“Except for Thorn of course.”
A happy hum was heard at the edge of your mind from Thorn through your connection with your dragon.
“Sometimes the best company is that of your own dragon,” you stated.
“Yes,” he agreed, his grey eyes casting a far away look. “And sometimes it is for the better. The world can be very hateful and cruel. I am grateful to have Thorn in my life.”
You straightened up in your chair, not realizing how much you were leaning forward toward him. “To our dragons, then,” you said, raising your glass to him again. The action making his focus snap back to you. “May the wind lift their wings and their claws and teeth be sharp.”
Murtagh brought his glass over to yours with a small clink of the cups connecting.
You caught a smile from him as he drank from his cup, but you did not bring any attention to it.
“If we come up with any more toasts, we may accidentally run this place dry of any and all refreshments.”
He let out a bark of laughter, that may have startled you if you were not paying attention. “Let us hope that it doesn’t have to come to that,” he chuckled, combing his fingers briefly through his dark locks.
“If we were any in higher spirits, I don’t think our dragons would let us step foot outside,” you giggled into a napkin, cleaning off the corner of your mouth.
“It’s not as if it would be difficult for them to block the door…or a few windows for that matter.”
You sighed, cooing at a past memory, “Do you ever miss how cute they were when they were hatchlings?”
“Thorn was so tiny, I could have hid him in my tunic.”
“A little difficult to do now, hmm?”
“Yes,” he chuckled lightly. “Now I can hide in his paw.”
“That sounds like a safe place to be, as long as you keep your skin away from his scales.”
“Did you find that out the hard way?”
“My dragon was quite fond of cuddles when I could actually hold them,” you recalled.
Murtagh nodded, stealing a look out through a window.
“If I may ask, before you became a dragon rider, what was your preferred weapon of choice?”
His grey eyes appeared to light up at this question, as if the topic was something that he was more comfortable with discussing than most. “My long bow,” he said. His smile filled your chest with a pleasant warmth once again.
It was here that you became enraptured with every word, resting your chin on your hands as you leant in listening.
He spoke passionately about the advantages of using a bow and arrows. Of how he hunted in the wilderness for a time before finding Eragon and Saphira.
You let out a laugh as he directed a question at yourself. “My only available weapons were my words. Not that I necessarily needed a weapon with how my life was going.”
“Words can be the most dangerous of weapons,” Murtagh acknowledged as if with a thread of warning for your own sake.
Then, the unexpected as you both found pause in gazing at the other both in thought and emotion. A knock came upon the front door.
Your dragon’s voice spoke more prominently in your mind and you could only assume Thorn did the same with Murtagh.
“Eragon,” you spoke in unison as each of your dragons alerted you to the other Rider’s presence.
Pushing yourself up from the chair, Murtagh waved a hand at you.
“It’s all right. I’ll see what my brother wants,” he smiled kindly as you sat back down.
When he had reached the door, he was greeted with what sounded to you like a happy Eragon. It made you wonder if the two brothers had spoken prior. Would Eragon assume that the date had already ended? Or did he not have a clue in the world?
You could not make out every word that was being passed between the two, but you did catch onto Eragon’s worry and curiosity towards Murtagh’s urgency to finish the conversation.
Simultaneously, you felt your dragon speaking with another; Saphira. It was only a matter of time before she knew and informed Eragon.
Saphira is going to tell Eragon, your dragon said, briefly showing you the scene from outside of the three dragons clustered around Murtagh’s home and the brothers at the doorway.
This should be interesting. I think I’m going to greet Eragon, perhaps relieve some of the tension, you suggested.
Yes, they agreed as you walked toward the entryway. I believe Eragon became suspicious when he noticed Murtagh using his body to block the door.
Well then this should be thoroughly amusing for you three, you said before tapping Murtagh on the shoulder.
He nearly whipped his head around to peer at you over his shoulder, his jaw tensing as you stared into his wary eyes.
“My sincerest apologies,” Eragon spoke just beyond the threshold, the tips of his ears radiating a rosy hue.
Placing your hand gently to Murtagh’s arm, he hesitantly stepped to the side.
“It’s all right, Eragon,” you assured with a light laugh, though you could sense Murtagh’s uneasiness. “No harm was done. And not to worry…I won’t hold it against you; you didn’t know.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said again, “I saw both of your dragons here and thought you both were talking inside. I-I thought that now might have been a good opportunity to ask for both of your opinions on how training has been going and where we can possibly improve for the new Dragon Riders—”
“Eragon,” you interrupted, causing him to freeze in place, “breathe.”
Through the silence, Eragon finally took a breath. It hardly looked as though it helped by the way his cheeks were dusting in a deeper shade of crimson and his shoulders were nearly up to his ears.
“I’ll…ahem…take my leave,” he nodded. “I wish you both a good night.”
“Pleasant dreams,” you waved.
“Yes, good night,” Murtagh said a little less dryly as he reached for the door.
No sooner Eragon was turning on his heel, did Murtagh swiftly shut the door with a heavy sigh.
“Murtagh…are you all right?” You asked, placing a hand to his back as he leant against the door.
“I felt as if my heart had stopped as soon as I heard that first knock,” he whispered.
He leant into your touch as he straightened and turned to face you fully, your hand now on his waist.
Smiling kindly at him, you asked, “Would you mind help with cleaning the dishes?”
A smile broke across his features, little wrinkles crinkling next to his eyes. “I had planned to do those later.”
“I do not want to over-stay my welcome,” you reasoned, softly rubbing your thumb back and forth against the fabric of his tunic. “That, and I have training early in the morning.”
There was a pause as he thought and, you assumed, possibly chatted with Thorn.
Murtagh nodded, his eyes drifting to your arm that outstretched to him. “I’ll walk you home—if you’ll let me,” he offered, his voice soft and hopeful.
This man is going to make my heart stop, you sighed internally as you stared into his waiting grey eyes.
A throaty chuckle of a growl reverberated through the door as you opened your mouth to speak.
Murtagh’s eyebrows knitted together at the sound and turned his head as if to ask the dragons themselves.
“Yes,” you answered a little too hastily, making cause for him to look back at you. In the moment, you tore your hand away from him, clasping your hands together in front of you. “I’d love nothing more,” you added, quickly composing yourself.
Gracing you with another smile, he reached for the door and opened it for the pair of you. Stepping out, the sun had already set and you each were welcomed into the night. It was dark, save for the paths, housings, and some structured fires lighting the way for the other residents.
Quietly, your dragon swept up into the night’s sky, clearly going to arrive home before yourself. You watched while you walked along with Murtagh until even with squinting, they were no longer visible.
The night was quiet, with the exception of distant laughter and a snoring dragon or two as you walked passed other dwellings. It was then that you felt something touch your hand. A gentle warmth brushed against your knuckles. You looked down in time to see Murtagh’s hand slide around yours.
“Is this all right?” He asked, your eyes meeting.
You nodded quietly, “Yes.”
A sparkle danced in his eyes as you gazed at each other for a moment longer as you continued down the path. It was a sweet gesture. To others, it might have seemed small, but it was a meaningful step for the pair of you.
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(Also posted on my Deviantart)
Thank you for reading! I have other Murtagh x Readers on my Masterlist that is pinned on my blog.
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Also, if you feel inclined, donate to my Ko-Fi. It's very much appreciated.
After 6 months, the final chapter of Dappled Grove has been posted! Thank you all so much for reading, subscribing, commenting, leaving kudos, etc., as each and every interaction meant so much to me. Here is a little picture to commemorate this massive project that I undertook on a whim 💖
READ HERE on Archive of Our Own
Dappled Grove (LeonxReader)
Summary: They were right. Here you are, lost, alone, and bleeding out. It was a nice run, you guess. Your life didn’t bother to flash before your eyes, since there wasn’t much that happened anyway. Even though you’ve already succumbed to breathing your last breath here in the Wild Area, this Charizard seems to think otherwise. Are you hallucinating? There’s a strange man with purple hair here, too.
