#and continue to wallow in frustration without doing anything about it

[cynicalmusings]

i actually NEED to write for boothill and empath!reader again (was rereading some of the snippets and… not gonna lie the vibes are kind of on point with some of them) but i don’t know WHAT to write and it’s really, really frustrating

[saerins]

ᯓ ᝰ RIGHT HERE .ᐟ — touya todoroki

touya x female reader. content tags modern au, childhood sweetheart!touya, both are working adults, making out, mentions of infidelity/murder, he’s a tease. word count 1.7k

ᯓ notes .ᐟ haha can you tell i love touya too much rn ? just getting back into writing so have some of my touya :) thanks to any of you who read this <3

“touya, you’re gonna make me late for work tomorrow,” you whine, pouting as he wins you in yet another round of super smash bros. (and hence you’d have to stay up and continue playing at his behest.)

beside you, touya smirks, rows of pearly white visible while he clearly enjoys tormenting you. “weren’t you the one who said you needed a distraction?”

you grumble as you take the couch pillow and hold it over your face, groaning in frustration. touya’s right; you’d called him right after dinner, practically forced him to come after you figured out that you’re actually not as strong you thought and you’re actually still really upset that your ex cheated on you.

it’s only pathetic because it’s already been a couple of months and you’re still wallowing over it somehow.

“you know, i bet all that frustration will go away if you just let me kill that fucker,” touya tells you, flicking your forehead as leans forward, yanking the cushion off your face.

unamused, you deadpan at him. “yeah? then what am i gonna do when you’re in jail, huh?”

touya snickers, “aww, what? can’t handle being without me?”

in a strange way, your honest answer is definitely not. you’ve known touya forever. ever since you were five and your families connected at a preschool event. ever since your friend fuyumi introduced you to her brother. ever since touya confided in you how much he hated his father.

fast forward more than a decade later and you’re both sitting in your apartment, in a different state than either of your families, still as close as you were when you were kids.

you glare at touya, rolling your eyes before scrunching your nose and smirking at him. “actually, go ahead, i’ll go find myself a better guy while you rot in the cell.”

your best friend scoffs, cocking a brow and looking like he’s offended. “i off someone for you and you don’t marry me immediately? the fuck is wrong with you?”

the shit-eating grin that dawns on his face immediately after makes your heart skip a beat. yeah, you’ve always found him attractive, maybe even had a crush on him back in high school, but he’d always had girls after girls, and somewhere along the way you learned to stuff those flimsy emotions back down.

until you remember that he’s been single for a while now, and the fact that you’re both working adults with all the freedom in the world.

fuck, you really shouldn’t go back there.

“haha, funny,” you try to wave it off sarcastically. “says the one who told his ex that he just sees me as a little sister.”

he laughs, leaning back against the couch, a hand behind his head, abs sticking out from the edge of his shirt. it takes you a second to rein yourself in, not wanting to get teased relentlessly by him if you get caught staring.

“hey, she was getting jealous of me spending so much time with you! what was i supposed to say?”

yes, you’re aware. most of them were. most of the time you never told touya about any of that; of how his girlfriends were coming up to you, all insecure about your friendship and asking if you could back off. that was the most common thing among all his relationships: the girls’ pleas for you to keep a distance.

you did… the first few times.

and after his fifth relationship, you realised that touya would always pull you back close. would always end up breaking up with them if your friendship is causing them too much worry.

“you didn’t have to say anything, maybe you should’ve just kept your distance, you know? since most of them seemed to have a problem with it,” you comment, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, though even you don’t believe yourself.

a life without touya is unimaginable for you. even if you can’t really say the same for him.

touya sighs, shifting in his position before ultimately putting an arm around you, pulling you close. he smells like your soap and his hair against your face tickles.

he’s always like this; always touchy, always close. recently he’s been more than usual, coming over and sleeping the night (you never did anything physical!), chasing other guys away at the club because they’re not good enough for you.

and when he’s like that, you think maybe there’s no harm in letting those long-lost feelings flow back.

it’s dangerous.

he’s always like this. always way too much for you to handle. and yet you can’t live without him.

and then he does something he’s never done before.

you feel his lips on your temple, and you hear the chuckle reverberating from his throat. his left arm around you holds you tight, not that you’re running anywhere—you’re pretty sure you’re frozen stiff from the shock.

did that really happen?

“how can i do that when you’re the only one i want?”

you’re sure that’s his voice. it can’t be anyone else’s. but you’re not sure if you believe him. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

slowly, you turn to face him, expecting him to wear that smug grin and tease you for being so gullible but it never comes. instead, you’re greeted with his half-lidded eyes, blue pupils staring at your lips like he’s hypnotised, his thumb caressing your lower lip from left to right like he’s trying to memorise all the grooves.

it’s so soft that you barely recognise your own voice when it comes, “touya, kiss me.”

and maybe he’s always wanted to, because he doesn’t miss a beat. the second you open your mouth, he’s giving you what you asked for, his tongue prying your lips open and he tastes just like the warm in winter mornings, like the comfort people always dream about.

mint. you can taste the sweet from when he ate it right before he beat you in the game. you can feel the cold on the tip of your nose from when you brush against the piercings on his nostrils. you can feel him carry you onto his lap, feel his hands wrapping around your waist. you can feel his heartbeat under his chest, under your palm, almost as erratic as your own.

were you really just upset over someone else?

every relationship you’d been sad over suddenly didn’t seem to make sense anymore. not when touya’s right here, lips locked with yours and telling you more with his kiss than you’ve ever heard from his words.

by the time you pull away, both of you are breathless, his hand on your cheek, lips softly brushing over your own like he can’t bear to be away even for just a second. you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, half overwhelmed and half confused.

“fuck, did we really just—”

“shh,” you hush him, putting a finger on his lips, suddenly embarrassed. your foreheads are still pressed together, and you can’t see it but he’s admiring your face, holding himself back from just kissing you even more.

touya moves your finger away. he whispers your name in the most gentle tone you’ve ever heard, “does that mean you feel the same?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, tongue-tied and still straddling your best friend on the couch. you’re just a single impulsive action away from going all the way.

dangerous.

pulling back even further, you’re about to make a break for your bedroom when touya pulls you back, making sure you face him.

“no running this time,” he tells you, voice raspy and his eyes flicking from your eyes to your nose and your lips but mostly your lips. “i want you,” he whispers, and the minute you lock gazes, the answer has never been more clear to you.

“i want you too, touya,” you answer, both excited and afraid but he never lets you harp on things too much because he’s already kissing you silly, barely letting you breathe—you don’t have to guess with him; he wants you so desperately you can feel it in his actions.

“touya, we should stop,” you whine, knowing that this might be going way too quick yet you want it all the same.

touya shakes his head, big hands slipping under your shirt and squeezing your waist. “no, don’t wanna stop,” he whispers into your mouth.

he’s about to pull your shirt over your head when the loud shrill of his phone interrupts. he would’ve tossed it to the side if you hadn’t taken it and insisted he should take it. it’s from shoto, after all. (he doesn’t call often, it’s a complicated relationship.)

grumbling, touya leans back, keeping your thighs in place so you can’t move away. he’s smirking at you as he answers, “shoto, what is it?”

you can’t hear his brother over the phone. you can only guess snippets of the conversation from touya’s end.

“huh.”

“what for?”

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.”

when he finally puts it down, he pulls you close by the chin, a glint of mischief in his grin. “get ready, doll.”

“huh? for what?”

touya gives you a peck on the lips. “family’s visiting, a surprise or whatever. they’re already in the city.”

you blink, praying he’s not being serious and wishing it’s not what you’re thinking. “okay, have fun!”

“and where do you think you’re going?” touya laughs, pulling you back down after you barely got back up.

“go spend some time with them, it’ll be fun.”

“oh i’m sure it’ll be fun,” he smirks, typing something into his phone and sending the message before you can sneak a peek.

you’re almost too scared to ask. but you do. “and why’s that?”

touya chuckles, thinking you’re way too stubborn, playing dumb even if it’ll kill you. but he guesses it’s fine if he has to spell it out for you. “because i wanna re-introduce you.”

“wait, what do you mean?”

with a gentle smile and a poke on your forehead, he looks you in the eyes. “i’m gonna introduce them to my future wife.”

[super-clearlysaltybouquet]

The One With the Blouse (2/2)

Part 2/2

Wolfstar x reader      Sirius Black x reader      Remus Lupin x reader      Sirius Black x Remus Lupin      Sirius Black x reader x Remus Lupin 

Established couple (throuple)

Summary: Sirius apologises, Lily and Remus help

Warnings:

Minor angst

Hurt/comfort 

Fluff

Word count: 1.5k

You trudge up the steps of the girl’s dormitory. Tonight at least you know you’ll have an empty room. After a party, Marlene and Mary tend to fall asleep on the couches by the fire. Always the last to leave, and the first to insist on helping clean up. Lily will be with James, recently endowed with prefect duties and a single room, you have no doubt he’ll be taking advantage of the privacy. 

You sit in bed and hold yourself tight, calming your rushing heart, and trying desperately to cease the tears that just keep falling. Hours pass, and the loud sounds of youthful jubilance from the party below do too. 

You want to believe that Sirius didn’t mean any of it. He seemed almost just as upset as you were when you left the dorm. He has a habit of self-sabotage when things start going too well, Remus did warn you about that. But you aren’t a fan of wishful thinking. It’s far easier to let yourself wallow in the believe that you three just aren’t meant to be, and that they’ll do better without your imposition.

A soft knock on the door startles you, “Y/N, can I come in?”, Lily, that can’t be right. You respond in a daze, and she steps in wordlessly, looking far too sympathetic for your liking. 

“Remus said you might need some company”, she smiles.  

“Did they enjoy the party?”, you ask, entirely genuine. 

“They never came down”.

She moves to sit across from you on the red sheets, her fingers lost in her pockets as she pulls something out. A paper crane.

“Sirius made it for you”, she says, and your fragile heart summersaults. 

You extend your hand out, and Lily drops the paper to your open palm. The moment it touches your skin the bird begins to fly. It flutters around you in circles first, then flaps its wings in place between the two of you. It’s beautiful magic, Sirius’s touch is unmistakable. The paper rearranges itself back into its basic form, a flat sheet of parchment with writing on one side. 

It reads quite simply: 

I’m an idiot. I’m so, so sorry. Will do better. not your fault. Sirius,

It’s not exactly poetic, or even particularly romantic, but you appreciate the sincerity. The spreading, watery ink bleeding between letters - and dark raised tearstains affirms the earnestness of the apology. Lily seems hesitant before she speaks again, but her tone is reassuring, “You know, with him these things are never personal, he used to get like this with Remus when they first started out too”, and that shocks you. They seem like a complete unit now, reading each other’s minds and silent cues in a way you haven’t mastered yet. It seems almost unbelievable to imagine the two of them at each other’s throats. 

“I should go talk to them”, you sigh. Despite Sirius’s apology, you've resigned yourself to your fate. Re-playing the events of earlier tonight again and again in your mind, you can’t help but feel shameful. Maybe you overreacted, or you didn’t pay close enough attention to Sirius’s frustrations early enough. As if reading your mind:

“I understand why you’re upset; he told me what he said to you” Lily says, “If James said anything like that I don’t think I’d ever speak to him again”,

“You don’t think I should forgive him?” you ask, eyes looking back to the paper crane. The charmed parchment has re-folded itself perfectly and continues to fly.

Lily shrugs, “Sirius isn’t James, he doesn’t always mean what he says”, and somehow you find that incredibly comforting.

-

You walk to their dorm, paper crane in hand. Your stomach turns when you knock. There’s a rustle and a small shout from inside before the door creeks open, quicker than you’re prepared for. Remus steps out. His eyes are bright red and puffy, and looking at his hands on the wooden door you can tell he’s been picking at his fingers again. You hate to think that you might've been the cause of any of his pain. “Lily gave you the crane”, he says, half smiling now, and you think things might just be okay. 

He cracks the door open further, welcoming you inside with his hand at the small of your back. 

“Are you okay?”, you worry, glimpsing between his eyes and his scratched fingers, 

Remus nods. 

“All better now”, he says, half smile growing into nearly a grin, you believe him.

“Where’s Sirius?”, you ask.

Remus motions his head to the bathroom, and you cast him a bewildered look,

“I cast a silencing charm”, he explains, as if that really explains anything at all, “He needed to calm down”, he adds.

“So, he’s taking a bath?”, 

Remus shakes his head and waves his wand. The sound of sniffling and quiet crying finds it’s way through the dorm room, slightly muffled by something indistinguishable. 

“He’s got his head in the sink”, Remus says, and you really have nothing to say in response, “We had it filled with ice to keep the muggle beer right, I thought the cold would calm him down”, he elaborates, like an adoringly patient parent talking about a particularly affected toddler. Remus’s tenderness towards Sirius fills you with something light, and warm. You don’t miss the unspoken detail; Remus couldn’t bear to listen to your lover cry.

“He was in the wrong, and he really is sorry”, he says, and you don’t need to be convinced. You wonder how many times they’ve been through this, the arguments and reconciliation you’re only just learning to navigate. 

Remus opens the bathroom door for you, and low and behold Sirius’s head is in the sink. Three bottles of beer are parked haphazardly in the corner of the porcelain to make up for the space a human head takes up. He’s still wearing the same blouse. His shoulder are shaking, and his hands are so white gripping the sides of the sink that they’re almost luminescent.

Remus walks up behind him, rubbing circles up and down his back. He gives you a quick encouraging glance before he’s leaning down, speaking softly into Sirius’s ear, “Sweetheart, Y/N is here to talk to you, Lily gave her your crane”.

His head shoots up from the ice, pale and wild looking, like a corpse brought to life. Hair completely drenched, and ice water dribbling off the tip of his nose. He turns to you with wide eyes, looking entirely panicked. 

“I’m so, so sorry darling, I’m such bloody idiot”, he spills out, “I didn’t mean any of it, I’m not sure why I said it anyway, and then you were so upset, fuck sweetheart”, his words come out at a million miles a minute, you’re sure he’s taken your time apart to ruminate intently on his misdeeds. He takes a second to breathe, “-then Moony was upset with me too, Walburga sent me a howler yesterday and it got my mood all mixed up, I should have just talked to you, such a bloody idiot”, he pants out.

Remus hasn’t stopped circling his gentle hands up and down Sirius’s shoulders, providing a much-needed salve to the other boy’s anxiety. 

“I shouldn’t have left”, You say with regret “I should’ve stayed to talk to you”,

Sirius shakes his head, sprinkles of sink water flicking off the ends of his hair, “I upset you, you had every right to take a minute to yourself”, you nod in response, grateful he isn’t holding your flightiness against you. He seems much calmer now, the ice water, Remus’s touch, and your return serving as the perfect trifecta. It’s all slightly awkward, you’re both unsure how to proceed, stuck just for now in that fumbly post-argument stage. Remus spares you a slightly desperate glance, begging silently for you to say something. 

“Thank you for the crane, and the note”, you oblige.

“I meant what I wrote, I’ll do better”, he says it with conviction, and you appreciate the affirmation. “I'll do whatever you want, I’ll strip and flog myself all the way to Holyhead if-”, you interrupt him in haste, you’re not even sure he’s joking.

“-no no Sirius I forgive you, really”, his tense shoulders relax like mountains relieved of their own weight, and in the corner of your eye you think Remus’s do too. 

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”, he questions,

“No, I mean it, honest”, and you lift your hand up beside your face, mimicking the action of taking some sort of oath. It puts a slight smile on Sirius’s face. “Come here”, you say, and he collapses into you, initiating the tightest hug of your life. He’s wet and cold, but you couldn’t care less, glad to have him back in your arms.

“Next time, please just tell me if I’m being too fussy, and I’ll give you a bit of space”, you say, muffled practically inside Sirius’s armpit. You feel him nod emphatically, “I promise”.

A warmth has returned to the dorm, and the red and gold accents of the room are suddenly more vibrant. The three of you stay up for a while, just holding one another, and talking softly into each other’s skin.

[sepublic]

Thinking back to criticisms of Luz going through the same arc of opening up and letting people in throughout S2B onwards (a point following Yesterday's Lie, where Luz's guilt increased tenfold after seeing Camila's reaction), and I think it's important to remember that this is the frustrating reality behind living when you have self-loathing, suicidal ideation, etc., AKA things Luz absolutely had. The healing process IS unpleasant, that's the point. Especially in later cases when the Day of Unity is impending, or the need to get back to the Demon Realm; Sometimes the situation is inherently stressful, it feels helpless and it’s not just a matter of mental health and handling. And that just makes it easier to self-sabotage.

To apply my own quote from another fandom to this situation: Luz is grappling with continuing to apply this lesson of self-worth because that's the exhausting truth; You will relapse and you will have to constantly remind yourself and relearn that same lesson over and over again. That's life, that's the banal truth behind living, but there's also a deep wonder behind it too.

Plus there’s other ideas this contributes towards; Like how you need to live with mistakes and how that plays into Camila’s arc with her daughter; Luz having her You are Not Immune to Propaganda moment, then forgiving herself to avoid the fallacy in Leftist circles that it’s better to have done nothing wrong than to do something right.

In particular, we see how Luz’s relapse can affect Amity, and how it gradually wears down on her, how it's genuinely stressful on her end as well; Obviously, Amity is giving Luz extra grace because Luz did the same for her first, despite nothing really prompting on her own end besides unyielding compassion. So it would hypocritical to not extend that same patience in return, and Amity does!!! But it ties back into why Raine and Eda broke up, why Raine isn't blamed for it, why Eda has to take responsibility and not just wallow in self-pity about how she's driven people away because Eda has others she cares about, and needs to look after as well, especially when they're kids dependent on her!!!

So Luz’s own relationship with Amity is at stake here if she doesn’t internalize her lesson, and sure that may seem insignificant compared to saving the isles; But it’s not just about saving the isles, but also Luz letting herself want things by continuing to stay afterwards, rather than live a self-imposed exile out of the mistaken belief that she’s inherently harmful to the demon realm for being an outsider. That can be a xenophobic take! And in the end, that relationship with Amity (who very much benefitted from Luz the Outsider) is one of the things Luz looks forward to even in her depression, and even if she planned to cut ties she wouldn’t want Amity to leave it on a bad note either; In fact Luz shouldn’t cut ties, period.

And I find it a bold take; That you need to open up not just because it's good for you, but because if you really care about your loved ones, you will see it hurts them too. That you're not just hurting yourself, this is not your ideal, noble self-sacrifice. You are still deciding things for other people in a way by hurting them, that you're not just caring about yourself but the loved ones you claim are better off from this anyhow.

You are putting people under a lot of stress because they can't reach out, and to save themselves because they can't save you without your own input, sometimes they just gotta cut ties. They feel like you're not being honest with them, and you can't blame them for making it about themselves because they've spent all this time up until now trying to make it about you and why you deserve to live. And since your own wellbeing as motive isn't good enough, at least consider theirs???

If you think about it, this could even apply to Luz’s own relationship with the Demon Realm; By insisting it doesn’t need her, that she’s more a harmful force than anything, she’s just harming it in the long run by not helping stop Belos. The isles needs Luz too, it’s not just the other way around! And then you have to remember the isles is an actual person, the Titan; So it’s another relationship of hers to maintain. The Titan is like a father figure, like Manny, so it all ties back together in Luz continuing to live and love to honor her dead father.

It's easy and even comforting to portray this type of self-loathing and self-destruction as only happening in a vacuum; But it doesn't. Despair can be comforting, and it's gonna keep hitting you over and over, unless you keep fighting it over and over. By god is it tedious, but over time it might fade away entirely. But even then you might have to stay on alert regardless. They really weren't kidding when they said To Live is To Suffer. But it's also To Thrive, and you need to work for that too.

Plus, Luz not being just done after hearing it the first time connects to how the Boiling Isles wasn't magically fixed following Belos' death and the Collector releasing everyone; They still had other people to worry about, like the other coven heads, and so much work in rebuilding the isles. We check back four years later and only then do they finally figure out how to undo coven bindings. The work continues, life continues, there is no definitive ending but you just gotta keep going. This was Dana's actual intent behind her displeasure with "Happily ever after" as a phrase, rather than hating happy endings inherently.

And I think the fact that there's still so much more to do works with the meta fact that there were still so many other stories and conflicts left untold, unresolved; Things like the Archivists, the Bat Queen's past, coven heads like Hettie Cutburn or Vitimir, etc. But in a way, the epilogue, the four year gap, and life continuing after the Quincenera because of course it will, because people and things will live on no matter how much destruction there is, is good space to explore that.

And it's a gift to fans who love stories and have the opportunity to make more themselves, because Dana herself explained in an interview how she loved to make connections in shows she had growing up, so it pleased her to inspire the same in fans from this generation. At the very least, if the show was given a spin-off or continuation, something like that, there'd definitely be more stories, and more work, to do with The Owl House. Again, those unlived stories are both the frustration, but also the wonder, behind keeping going.

[itisme-rosie]

-- we'll be alright; marauders era!sirius black (x remus lupin) x reader

cw: angst no comfort, implied wolfstar, not proofread (?)

masterlist | rules

"so you'll accept his help and not mine?"

"he's my friend,"

"and i'm your girlfriend,"

"don't do that,"

"do what?" i burst, my arms thrown out in frustration, "you said to communicate more about the things that bother me, so i am, just like you wanted because god forbid i 'lose it' in front of your friends,"

sirius is quiet, running his hand down his face as he scans the living room, smiling sadly at james' family members as they retreat to the living room to give him and i space to talk properly.

"you," my chest heaves with a heavy sigh, "you expect so much of me, and yet you can't deliver the same expectations you demand of me. merlin, sirius, i just want you to talk to me about things the same way you do with your friends, i can't keep feeling like you walk around eggshells with me when it comes to talking about how you feel. losing james and lily hurts me too, but i can't talk about it with you because you shut me down everytime i try to," i inhale shakily, "and yet, with remus, you do it so effortlessly -"

"because he's my friend," sirius replies, a familiar hint of frustration pouring out of him, "there are things you won't understand, even if you're my girlfriend,"

"ex-girlfriend," i say firmly, the words leaving me before i could think about it fully, ignoring how sirius' eyes snapped up to look at me as i began to pack the small bag i brought with me to the potters' funeral service, swinging it over my shoulder.

"what?" he asks incredulously, "come on darling, let's talk about this,"

"i tried, sirius," i laugh humorlessly, "i tried talking about it with you so many times, and i'm tired,"

"darling, i -"

"i know, sirius," i stand in front of the back door, my hand on the knob and i stare at the intricate glass designs on the panes on the door, "i know about you and...remus,"

sirius is quiet for a while, and it's like i could hear the cogs turning in his head if i listened hard enough.

"whatever do you mean?" i hear his mutter weakly.

"he loves you, sirius, and i know you love him too, in ways i could only wish to understand," i look over my shoulder at him one last time, and out of the corner of my eye, i see remus - my dear friend, my poor, helpless friend that looked like he was about to collapse if he stayed to witness sirius and i's relationship crumble to the ground. i don't think he could bear losing another companion - not so soon after james and lily.

merlin knows he would blame himself, and he would continue to do so even when everyone involved has moved on. hell, the pair of them will wallow in their guilt, no matter how much reassurance i give them.

we humans can all be a little emotional anyway. i could never blame them, i could never blame a person for what they feel, and i certainly won't stop them from facing them if it was what they wished.

he lurked by the open kitchen door, "if anything," i take yet another deep, calming breath, "i think you two are the ones to have a talk, a proper talk without running away from each other,"

i push open the door, stepping out into the cold autumn night, and i hear hushed whispers as i stand in the garden for while, inhaling the cold air.

"at least let us escort you home," remus says timidly, laying a coat over my shoulders.

"no need, remus," i pat his cheek, pulling the cardigan tighter around my body, "you two be safe, yes?"

without waiting for an answer from him, i turn to face sirius, "i'll be moving back in with mary, so you don't need to worry, i'll be out of the house in 3 days at most,"

my last words meld into a gasp as sirius pulls me into one last hug, his face buried into the crook of my neck and with shaking hands, i hug him back tightly, inhaling the smell of his cigarettes, that overpriced cologne he always bought, and just barely concealed firewhiskey.

"i'm so -"

"hush now," i pat his back, "i'll be fine sirius," i murmur with a slight tremor in my voice, " we'll be alright,"

oh how untrue those words would turn out to be.

[hbyrde36]

Times Like These (The Anniversary Edition)

CH 1 CH 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch5 Ch6

Chapter 7: Running in Circles

WC: 6637 | AO3 link

The moment Eddie landed back in his body he fell to his knees and sobbed.

He wanted to lay down and die all over again. 

Anything to escape the agony of losing. Losing in general, losing Steve. Never mind that the loop had managed to reset itself, meaning there was a brand new Steve only a few miles away who was just fine. Who Eddie had another chance to save. 

But he wasn’t ready to think about that just yet. 

Not that he had any time for mourning. Time was both his greatest asset and his mortal enemy in this moment because he so desperately needed it all to fucking stop, if only for a little while. 

But, as the saying goes, time waits for no man. Chrissy was standing there, right in front of him, and the countdown to her demise had begun the second he landed back at the beginning of this godforsaken nightmare. 

He gave himself one minute to feel it. Sixty seconds of wallowing in heartbreak—of saying goodbye to a past that only he would ever remember, before shoving it all down and getting to work. 

He mumbled vague apologies to a very confused and concerned Chrissy when he finally picked himself back up, and then simply walked away, striding quickly to his room to take up his acoustic guitar and play for her again. 

It worked, even if he had some trouble putting his whole heart into it this time, and he was grateful that it did. He didn’t know what he would have done if it hadn’t. 

He held her close after she fell—still tried to put her back together again even though it felt impossible when he was missing so many of his own parts, but he didn’t give her long. He didn’t give either of them long enough to truly recover from their respective ordeals before dragging her to her feet.  

“Stay here a second?” He said, not waiting for a reply before returning to his room.

Frantically he dumped the contents of his backpack on the ground and filled it with clothes, his walkman, and his trusty black lunchbox. He had a feeling he might need it to get through the next few days. 

Back in the living room he grabbed his keys, took Chrissy's hand, and led her outside.

The goal was to grab Max and get the hell out of Dodge before Jason showed up looking for Chrissy, or a fight. He didn’t want to see that motherfucker ever again if he could help it, and he certainly could live without another broken nose. 

He flew up the front steps of Max’s trailer and began pounding on the door.

“Max!” He shouted, continuously banging his fist. “Code red, Max. Open up. We gotta go right now!”

The door flung open suddenly, revealing a very annoyed and very wide-eyed redhead.

“What the hell, dude?! Did Dustin put you up to this?”

“No Red, he didn’t, and there’s literally no time for me to explain, so–” Eddie shrugged one shoulder and pushed past her without waiting for an invitation, heading right back to her room while pulling Chrissy along behind him. 

“What are you doing?!” Max yelled, trailing behind.

It wasn’t like Eddie didn’t know he was acting, maybe, a bit erratic—but he was frustrated at once again being the only one who knew there was trouble brewing, and frankly he just didn’t have the mental strength to ease anyone into it. Any patience he had left died in the last loop.

“Pack a bag.” He told her as he perused her tape collection, picking out the right Pat Benatar tape. He checked for the other but it didn't seem to be on the shelf. It was probably already in her player.

“You’ll need your walkman, and your Kate Bush tape too. You might want to grab some clothes while you’re at it, we may not be back for a while.”

“Wait… what?”

He finally looked at her, really looked at her, and realized that under the show of annoyance, she was scared. He was freaking her out.

He sighed, running his hands roughly through his hair. “You saw the lights flickering earlier, right? Over at my place?”

She bit her lip, nodding reluctantly. “Is that what this is all about?”

“Yes,” he said, as softly as he could manage, picking up her school bag from the floor and handing it to her. “And I'm sorry, but we need to go now.”

“Where are we going?”

“Steve’s.” Eddie swallowed thickly. “Grab your walkie, we’ll call him from the road”

Max continued to eye him suspiciously but she didn’t argue. Sometime later he’d have to wonder why the girl went along with him so easily, but for now he was just grateful she didn't put up more of a fight.

Chrissy was quiet throughout the whole thing, and seemed a lot more shell-shocked than last time. Which was fair, considering he was acting like an insane person, had given her zero time to recover from her attack, and had explained exactly nothing. He just… he needed to get out of here. He needed to see Steve. Then maybe he could settle down long enough to tell her and everyone else what was going on. 

On the bright side, at least he wouldn't be showing up on Steve’s doorstep battered and bloody.

-

“Pass that radio up here, will ya?” Eddie asked once they were on the road, reaching back to where Max sat. She handed it over without a word.

He cleared his throat, holding the button down as he spoke into the device, steering with one hand. “Code red, I repeat, code red. Anyone who can hear me right now needs to meet up at Steve’s house as soon as possible. And, uh, Harrington, sorry to interrupt date night but you need to ditch the lucky girl and pick up Robin and Dustin on your way home.”

It all came out a little more manic and bitter than he’d meant it to, but it couldn’t be helped. It was all he could do to keep it together long enough to get to Loch Nora safely.

“Who the hell is this? Over.” Dustin said

“Hey, Henderson.”

“Wait… Eddie?”

“Yeah, man, It’s me. Listen,” Eddie paused, tapping the radio against his cheek. “I know you probably have like a million questions right now and I swear I will answer every one of them, but please just—hold off for a bit.”

“Is this some kind of joke?” Another voice asked.

Eddie sucked in a breath, eyes stinging as Steve came over the line. He knew the other boy would be listening, he should have expected it—had expected it, but somehow it still caught him off guard.

“I wish it was, pretty boy, I really wish it was. There was a little problem down at the trailer park. Max is with me, and a–friend. I’ll explain when we get to your place.”

After a moment of dead air, Dustin spoke again. “Steve?”

“It’s fine, Henderson,” Steve replied quickly, sounding irritated, if resigned. “I’ll be there to get you as soon as I can.” 

“Should I call the others?” Dustin asked.

“Yes.” Eddie cut in.

“Why not.” Steve scoffed. “Party at Steve’s! It’s not like I had plans on a Friday night or anything.”

It didn’t occur to Eddie until he turned the radio off and handed it back to Max that not once did Dustin complain about the lack of ‘walkie etiquette’. That maybe should have been his first sign that things weren’t exactly going well.

-

As soon as they pulled up to Steve’s, Max burst out of the rear doors of the van, all but running into the house before Eddie even had the chance to put it in park. Chrissy didn’t move or react. In fact, she’d done nothing but stare out the passenger window for the entire ride over. 

“Hey, Chris?” He said gently, turning in his seat to face her. “I know this whole night has been crazy and you don’t know me very well, but for what it’s worth I really can explain what’s happening… if you can trust me enough to come inside?”

She remained still and quiet for long enough that he was concerned she’d become catatonic, but eventually she tilted her head to look at him and gave a shallow nod. He jumped out, rounding the front of the van to open the passenger door for her. She faltered, stepping out on unsteady legs and he offered her a hand, which she took instantly, and held onto for dear life.

Eddie hesitated at the front door, his instincts telling him to just walk inside, but he wasn’t sure Steve, who barely knew him now—again, would appreciate that. 

Holding his breath, he rang the bell.

Intellectually, Eddie had known that the loop resetting meant Steve was alive, and he’d already heard his voice, but to actually see Steve physically standing there in one piece filled him with a sense of relief that made his knees weak. 

For a moment he forgot himself, stepping forward fully intent on wrapping the other boy up in his arms. He itched to press his face into Steve’s neck again, breathe him in deep and think about better days, but he caught himself at the last second and held back, instead giving Steve a friendly pat on the shoulder with his free hand while using the momentum of the near-hug to push past him and into the house, tugging Chrissy along with him.

“Sure, come right in.” Steve sniped.

Eddie didn’t look, but he knew that tone well enough to be sure Steve was rolling his eyes at their backs.  

He guided Chrissy to the living room and sat her down on the couch, while Steve blew past them, disappearing into the kitchen where Robin must have been. He could hear them whispering about him, though not quietly enough, because he heard it clear as day when Robin hissed, “oh my god, and he’s got Chrissy Cunningham with him?”

He stopped listening after that, in favor of paying attention to the girl in front of him. He hadn’t taken very good care of her this time around, and he needed to fix that as soon as possible.

“Can I get you some water or anything?” Eddie asked, crouching down in front of her, smoothing the hair out of her eyes.  

“Yes, water, thank you,” she said, managing a weak smile. 

“You got it, I'll be right back.” He patted her knee and marched straight into the other room, where Robin and Steve fell abruptly silent at his entrance. 

He ignored them, not really knowing how to act just yet—but did know, without a shadow of a doubt, that if he looked at Steve for too long right now he might lose his shit. Which would be less than helpful at this stage. He went to the cabinet where the glasses were, moving through the space like he was familiar with it—because he was—and crossed to the fridge, filling the cup he retrieved with the pitcher of water he knew Steve kept in there. 

“What—you—how?” Steve sputtered, narrowing his eyes. “Have you been here before?”

“No questions until everyone is here.” Eddie said over his shoulder, already walking away.

Dustin and Max had appeared in the living room while he was gone, and they watched curiously as he handed the glass over to Chrissy and sat down.

He leaned forward, dropping his head into his hands as he took a few deep breaths, remembering the way Steve had coached him through his panic attack on this same night, as he tried to settle his thoughts.  

“You know what? No. This has gone far enough!” Steve bellowed, rushing into the room. “You gotta give me something, man or I’m gonna… I don’t know. Call the police or something?”

Eddie dropped his hands but kept his eyes trained on the floor. Seeing first Steve’s socked feet come into view on the carpet in front of him, then Robin’s converse sneakers right behind. 

“Steve!” 

“Don’t give me that shit, Dustin. You see how he’s acting. He's clearly high on something. Or maybe drunk? Taking one of your D&D sessions a little too seriously? What?” 

Eddie looked up just in time to see Steve pull his signature move. His hands flew to his hips, and the accompanying glare was as fiery as ever, even though his hair flopped into his eyes when he tilted his head.

It almost made Eddie smile.  

“How the hell should I know?!” Dustin shouted.

“Well he’s your new best friend, isn’t he?!”

Oh, right. 

Eddie had forgotten this part. 

Up until their week-from-hell bonding session, or in the case of the last few loops, up until he learned the truth of what Eddie was going through, Steve had been jealous of his budding friendship with the kids—well—Dustin, in particular. Granted Eddie had been jealous too, but those days were far in the past for him. 

“Steve, that’s not–” Dustin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why would you assume he’s on drugs anyway?” 

“I hate to break it to you kid, but your new buddy here is the town–”

“Oh my god, Harrington!” Eddie quickly cut him off. Not that he really cared if the kid found out about his little side business, he’d be learning about it momentarily anyway, but he’d had enough. “I'm not high! And I’m not drunk either. I’m stuck in a fucking time loop.” 

“Bullshit.” Dustin snorted.

Eddie’s heart sank. Dustin always believed him. Had he really screwed things up so badly that even that had changed? 

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. “You can’t expect us to buy that.”

Eddie had to turn away from the hard look in Steve’s eyes. He’d understood it before, the first few times around when it had taken a bit of time, and a lot of explanation, for the other boy to trust him, but now it just… hurt.

He felt so alone.

“Dustin, you told me something, in the first loop. You said if I told you this thing, you’d believe me.”

Steve tapped his foot impatiently on the carpet. “Okay, let’s hear it then.” 

“Don’t be an asshole, Harrington.” Eddie snapped, getting up from his spot on the couch to approach Dustin. “It’s his secret, if he wants to tell you someday, he will." 

He bent down and whispered quietly into the kid’s ear, “You're adopted. Your mom told you a year ago and no one else knows, not even Steve.”

Dustin’s eyes went impossibly wide as he blinked up at Eddie in utter shock for a second, then his face spread into a wide grin. “Holy shit, he’s telling the truth! This is amazing! But what–” 

The smile dropped suddenly off his face as the implications started to sink in. “On the walkie earlier you said code red, but I didn’t think—does that mean this is…”

“Upside Down related?” Eddie finished for him. “Yeah, I'm afraid so.”

Steve watched the two of them with a deeply furrowed brow, no longer looking quite so bothered and skeptical, now he just seemed worried. Eddie softened, letting his own problems take a back seat for a minute. This was Steve, who—whatever he thought of Eddie right now—he cared about so fucking much. 

"I’m sorry, Steve.” Eddie said, and never had he meant those two words more. “I know what you’ve all been through over the past few years, and I’m sure this is the last thing you want to hear right now, but it’s the truth. You have no idea how much I wish it wasn’t.”

-

Erica arrived a short time later on her bike, and Eddie used the distraction to escape to the downstairs bathroom and splash some cold water on his face.

He’d only been near Steve again for less than an hour and he was already going out of his mind, how was he supposed to make it through an entire week?

“Hey, man, are you okay?” A voice called from the other side.

It was Steve, because of course it was.

A part of Eddie longed to let him in, to steal a moment with the boy he was almost sure he was in love with, but it wouldn't be the same. 

Steve didn’t remember the many nights they spent comforting each other and sharing their most intimate secrets. He didn’t know how they’d cooked for each other, and swapped stories, and kept each other sane in the midst of the world crumbling down around them. 

He could have let him in anyway, and maybe tried to start over, build them back up into a version of what they were, but Eddie didn’t think he could survive getting that close, going that deep, only to have it ripped away all over again.

Nancy's voice filtered in from down the hall, and assuming she’d brought Mike along that meant everyone was there and accounted for. It was time.

Plastering a fake smile on his face, Eddie took one more deep breath for good luck and opened the door.

“I’m good, Harrington. Let's get this over with.”

He tried to walk past but Steve stopped him with a hand on his elbow. “Eddie, wait.” 

Eddie stiffened, heart pounding. Déjà fucking vu, of the most painful kind.

“I’m sorry for giving you a hard time before.” Steve let him go, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. “If Dustin believes you, then so do I. Honestly, after everything I’ve seen… it’s not even that much of a stretch.”

“Thanks,” Eddie said, looking anywhere but at Steve’s face.

In the process of avoidance, the closed door to Steve’s father’s office caught Eddie’s eye and it gave him an idea. He remembered Steve taking a phone call in there once before, and recalled that it didn’t look like an ordinary household model. 

“The phone in your dad’s office,” Eddie began, hooking a thumb in the room’s direction. “Any chance it has a speaker?”

“Yeah, why?”

Pushing his inner turmoil aside for the time being, Eddie filled Steve in on how the Byers and El needed to be brought into this too, and how much more efficient it would be if they could be on the phone listening as he explained what was going on.

Steve gaped a little, still not used to Eddie knowing so much about all these things that had been secret for so long, but ultimately he was on board, and took on the task of telling the others to cram themselves into the small office room. 

“What the hell is he doing here? And where’s my brother?" Erica asked Steve, spotting Eddie as they all piled in. "He didn’t come home after the game, I figured he’d be here.”

“He’s… ” Steve started to say but trailed off, looking to Eddie for an answer. “Where is Lucas?”

“Partying with the basketball team.” 

“Why are we talking in here again?” Nancy asked of no one in particular.

Robin shushed her, Mike laughed, and Eddie stayed out of it. He dialed the number Steve had given him for the Byers house in California and switched on the speakerphone, praying someone would pick up. 

Joyce answered on the second ring. 

“Hello?”

When Eddie hesitated, realizing that the woman wouldn't know who he was, Steve jumped right in.

“Hey Joyce, it’s Steve. Uh, Harrington.”

“Oh, Steve. Honey, is everything okay?”

“I’m sorry to call out of nowhere like this, um, listen, I’ve got the usual group together at my house and uh, no. I guess everything's not okay? We have a friend here, his name is Eddie, and he has something to tell us. Can you get the kids and Jonathan to listen in too?”

It was proof of just how much these people had been through together that she simply said, “Ok, sure.”

After explaining, briefly, the whole him-time-looping thing in general, Eddie began by going over the original timeline in detail, starting with Chrissy’s death and ending with his own. He brushed over the next two loops, claiming they weren’t important. Which was true, he hadn’t changed anything or learned anything new, so nothing could be gained by forcing himself to recount them. 

Finally, he moved on to the last loop. He told them everything, apart from the private moments he and Steve had shared, and managed to keep it as clinical as possible until he reached the point in the story where the group had separated at Benny’s—falling silent as he replayed in his mind the moment he and Steve had said goodbye. 

Steve’s grip on his hip, the way his soft lips had felt pressed against Eddie’s own, the terror that had coursed through him when the clock chimed one, two, three, four times. 

“Shut it!” Steve shouted, drawing Eddie out of his reverie. 

While he’d been zoned out, Dustin, Mike, and Erica had been shouting over each other, badgering him to go on. 

“Give the guy a break will ya? He’s been through enough without having to deal with…” Steve broke off with a frustrated sigh, waving a hand. “All of you. Just give him a second.”

Steve Harrington to the rescue as always, Eddie thought with a pang in his chest. 

He started again, determined to finish the story and be done with it. 

“Obviously we weren’t successful, otherwise I wouldn’t be back here. I can’t tell you exactly what went wrong. I don’t even know if El managed to piggyback into Steve’s mind, but either it didn’t work or Vecna was too strong because…” He trailed off, struggling to swallow past the lump forming in his throat. 

He couldn't say it. He just couldn’t. 

Thankfully, they were all smart enough to follow the context clues, and he didn’t have to. 

“Why didn’t I pull Steve out with the music thing?” Dustin asked, a slight quiver to his voice.

And absolutely not was he letting this kid feel like it was his fault for even a fraction of a second.

“Jason fucking Carver.” Eddie said quickly, and with gusto. “He and Andy saw Steve’s car or something. They showed up at the Creel house, threatened you all with a gun and somehow broke the walkman in the process.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” Chrissy blurted out. It was the first time she’d spoken since they left the trailer hours ago. “I should have broken up with him a long time ago, I knew he was a jerk, but–” She broke off sobbing. 

Shit.

Eddie was too far away to reach out to her himself but Robin was there, throwing an arm around her, and Chrissy tucked herself into her side.

“None of this is your fault, Chris,” Eddie said, holding her gaze in hopes that would help it sink in—to make sure she knew he meant it. “I know you don’t remember, but trust me you helped us so much. You were there for me–at the end. I will never forget that.”

She nodded, but still dissolved into a new wave of tears against Robin’s shoulder. 

While everyone else was looking at her, Eddie felt Steve’s gaze on him like a physical weight, impossible to ignore. “You said the loop resets when you die, right?”

Before he could stop himself Eddie locked eyes with the other boy, and suddenly it was like they were the only two people in the room. 

“What happened to you last time?”

On top of everything else, Steve had just learned about his own mysterious death at the hands of a psychic monster, but here he was—not concerned with that, but with Eddie, and what his fate had been.

He tried to deflect, dropping his gaze to the desk as he spoke. “That reminds me, I should really hide my van when we’re done here so no one thinks you’re associated with me if something goes wrong.”

“Eddie, what happened to you last time?” Steve asked again, insistent.

With a heavy sigh, Eddie grudgingly answered. “After they took off from the Creel house, Jason and Andy showed up at Benny’s. I guess they saw the cars and got curious, or maybe they came to check the place out again after Patrick died. I don’t know, I didn’t exactly get to ask any questions. He, um… he shot me. Point blank in the chest.”

By the end he had the room’s full and silent attention again, save for a muffled sniffle over the phone’s speaker, and a warm palm landed on his shoulder. He didn’t even have to raise his head back up to know it was Steve, who’d moved to stand beside him at some point during his latest speech. 

He’d know the feel of those hands anywhere. 

“Okay, hear me out,” Dustin blurted wearing his patented, I’ve got a brilliant idea, face. “What if we call Owens now and get El together with him sooner. It sounds like she didn’t get the chance to fully regain her powers before they were ambushed, and I’m guessing her battery got drained in the escape with the whole helicopter thing, so she was definitely working at a disadvantage.”

It was a brilliant idea, Eddie had to give it to him. He didn’t realize they had a line to this other doctor guy.

“Yes, I think you are right.” Eleven agreed. “Eddie, you said… Papa was there? In the Nevada place?” 

Fuck.

“Yeah, he was there. Somehow he’s alive, I know you thought he wasn’t. I’m sorry. Jonathan said he helped you though, and that it had been your choice to stay.”

“It’s okay, I understand.”

There wasn’t much else to be said for now, and they needed to hang up so Joyce could make her phone calls, but there was one more order of business to deal with first. 

“Uh, Mrs. Byers, are you still on the line?” Eddie asked, eyes flicking back to Steve before quickly looking away again. 

“Call me Joyce, honey, and yes I’m here.”

“I need to talk to you alone for a minute, if that’s okay. Steve too.”

“Oh. Give me a second to make sure the kids hang up.”

Clearing the office out was a fight, Eddie had expected nothing less, and though they had to be as curious about what was going on as anyone else, Robin and Nancy stepped in and managed to convince the others to leave.

He was sure they’d demand answers at some point, but he’d worry about that later.

“Are you alone?” Eddie asked. 

“Yeah.” Joyce said.

“You might want to sit down for this.” He said to Steve, indicating one of the newly empty chairs in the room. Steve grabbed the nearest one, pulling it close so they were sitting side-by-side.

“Okay, there’s no easy way to say this… Hopper might be alive. Joyce got a package from Russia with a ransom note. Some guy named Murray is flying in tomorrow to help her figure it out.”

Joyce gasped, the noise echoing in surround sound for Eddie as Steve did the same beside him. 

“It’s real then?” She asked.

“I think so. You’re going to call the number tomorrow and the person who answers will tell you to fly to Alaska with some money. I don’t know any more than that. You called us once after you arrived, right before you went to meet with someone but we didn’t hear from you again. You said Hopper was being held in a Russian prison, and the guy who sent the ransom note was going to break him out.”

Steve went white as a sheet at the second mention of Russian involvement, and though he’d been thinking it would be smarter—easier, to keep some separation between them in this loop, Eddie couldn’t fight his instinct to reach out. He covered Steve’s hand that was resting on the surface of the desk with his own.

“I guess there’s nothing for me to do but follow the trail again.” Joyce said.

“But what if something happened, er, happens to you?” Steve asked.

“It’s Hopper." She said, as if that was an answer in itself. "I’m going to hang up so I can call the number Owens gave me. I’ll let you know what he says—and boys? Please don’t tell anyone else about this. Not until we know for sure.”

“Okay,” Steve mumbled, at the same time Eddie said, “of course.”

“Are you alright?” Eddie asked once they’d ended the call.

Steve was still staring lost in thought down at the phone, but at Eddie’s words he shook himself out of it. “Yeah, sorry. Just–”

“The Russians,” Eddie supplied, bobbing his head. “I know. I’m sorry, but I thought you deserved to know, and Joyce told you last time, so–”

“And then I told you?”

Eddie cleared his throat, abruptly taking his hand back as he leapt from his chair, heading for the door. “We should go, uh, check on the kids—make sure they’re not wrecking the place or anything.”

-

They wound up moving Eddie’s van into the garage. There was plenty of space, and it was such an obvious solution that he had to kick himself for not having thought to park it in there last time—for not having thought to hide it at all.  

He’d just sort-of assumed that if Chrissy didn’t die, and he didn’t become a suspect in her murder, the whole Jason thing would go away. 

He knew better now. 

Though, maybe this round he’d get a break since they’d skipped the run-in at the trailer park.

Dustin and Mike took charge of making the looped recordings for the party members who needed them, and were just moving on to the b-side of Max’s custom ‘Running Up That Hill’ tape, when Lucas burst through the front door. He froze in the entrance to the living room, looking from one friend’s face to another, and, much like the last time, did a double take when he spotted Eddie and Chrissy.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but Jason has lost his mind. He thinks Eddie did something to Chrissy and now he, Andy, and a few of the other guys are out looking for him.”

“Oh, come on!” Eddie yelled, throwing his hands up. “He didn’t even see me this time!” 

So much for getting a break from that asshole jock and his evangelical bullshit. 

“O… kay," Lucas said, blinking at Eddie for a beat before continuing. “Someone saw her leave the school with you after the game and—” He trailed off, finally noticing the music playing and the tape recording set-up. “What’s going on?”

Steve and Erica stepped in to explain, taking him through to the kitchen to talk. He wasn’t sure it was for his benefit but Eddie was thankful anyway, he didn’t want to hear it again anymore than he wanted to re-tell it. 

Not long after Lucas showed up, Nancy and Mike left to make their excuses at home for canceling Mike’s trip. 

Everyone else was staying over, and Steve had already made them all call home so no parents would panic. Even Eddie left a message on his home answering machine for Wayne since he was at work. He’d have much rather heard his uncle’s voice again, but it was undoubtedly easier to lie to a recording than it was to the man himself. 

Then it was time for bed. 

Again, Robin offered to share the guest room with Chrissy, while Max and Erica called Steve’s parents room—and as the boys gathered up the spare pillows and blankets they'd be using in the living room, Steve gave Eddie—a look.

He knew where this was headed, and honestly he’d never been so conflicted. Of course he wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with Steve after the terrible day he’d had, but that wasn’t where they were with each other anymore. And, in the interest of keeping some distance between them, to save himself future heartbreak even if it meant feeling a little pain right now, sharing a bed had to be where Eddie drew the line. 

“I’ll stay down here with the boys.” Eddie said, before Steve could even make the offer. “They can share the big couch, I'll take the other one.”

“Oh.” Steve said, almost sounding disappointed. “Do you want something to sleep in at least?”

Eddie gulped, wondering what the odds were that Steve would give him the swim team top again if he said yes. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Actually, I packed a bag this time, so I’m all set.” 

-

After a visit to the garage to grab his bag from the van, Eddie changed into his own version of pajamas—an old ratty pair of faded black sweatpants and a cropped Iron Maiden t-shirt, so worn that the band’s logo was all but illegible. Lastly he took one of the pre-rolled joints from his stash and slipped out onto the patio through the kitchen’s sliding glass doors. 

He sat cross-legged on his usual lounge chair, facing the pool and the woods beyond as he lit up. He took a long drag, and as he blew out a plume of smoke heard the sliding glass door open and close again behind him. He didn’t bother to hide what he was doing, though he probably should have. It could have been anyone coming out to look for him, Dustin or Mike maybe, but somehow he knew it wasn’t.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Steve said when he got close enough that Eddie could almost feel the heat coming off of his body. He shuffled his feet, hovering next to the chair. “I saw you out here through my window and I just… I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

Eddie finally looked up, unprepared for the way seeing Steve in his usual blue flannel pajama bottoms and white shirt would make him feel like he was drowning. Coupled with the tousled hair and soft look in Steve’s eyes, it was almost more than he could handle.  

So he focused on something else. 

The headphones Steve wore loosely around his neck were quiet, the wheels of the tape unmoving inside the player that was hooked to the elastic band of his pants.

“You should really be using those.” Eddie said, sliding over on the chair and patting the empty spot next to him in invitation. “Or at least have it playing even if they’re off your ears.” 

As Steve sat down Eddie took another long hit, halfheartedly offering the joint up when he was done. He didn’t know if Steve still smoked or not, knew he used to when he ran with Tommy and Carol but it wasn’t something they’d gotten to talking about before. 

Steve accepted it, taking a drag like a pro and Eddie supposed that answered that question. He grinned despite himself. 

“After all the shit you gave me earlier?” Eddie said, knocking their shoulders together.

Steve ducked his head. “I meant like mushrooms or something, I don't know. Weed doesn’t count.” 

He passed the joint back and started fiddling with his walkman, popping the tape out, flipping it over, and hitting play.

“I didn’t even realize it had stopped.” Steve said absently, accepting the joint when Eddie passed it over again, their fingers brushing lightly. “You know I was thinking about that. What happens when we’re sleeping and the tape runs down?”

“I don’t know what Max or Chrissy did, but anytime I woke up I’d flip your tape over and restart it.” Eddie answered without thinking, catching what he gave away far too late to backtrack, blaming the weed for loosening his tongue. 

Steve stilled, staring at him incredulously. 

“You—did you stay with me last time? In my room, I mean?”

Eddie busied himself picking at a loose thread on his pants. He didn’t know what to say.

“Is that why you’re so uncomfortable with me? Did I do something wrong, or?” Steve asked when the silence had grown too heavy to manage.

“No, Steve.” Eddie shook his head. “God, why is it that you always think you’re the problem?”

“I’m… sorry?”

“No, Stevie. I’m sorry.” Eddie sighed, taking the offered joint back again. It was almost done, and he took one last hit from it before leaning down to stub it out on the concrete. 

“Yes, I stayed with you before. We all sorta paired up to keep an eye on each other, and I guess you could say we got… close, over that time, but–”

“Oh! So, we were friends, but now I don’t remember and you’re not sure how to act around me. Is that it?” Steve guessed, and it was criminally adorable how proud of himself he was for figuring it out.

Almost figuring it out, that is, but he didn’t know that.

Eddie smiled, huffing a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s it exactly.”

The almost-admission served to break some of the ice between them. Steve relaxed a little, and Eddie found himself following suit.

They sat under the stars talking off and on for over an hour, and with each glance up at the sky Eddie was reminded of Steve’s childhood dream. He smiled, picturing a tiny baby Stevie standing in this very same backyard—looking up at the moon and daring to imagine himself going there one day. 

He almost brought it up, more than once. 

They chatted about nothing important or in particular—the kids, mostly, how they were adjusting to high school and things like that. Eddie told him what he knew, and in return Steve told him about middle school dances, and sneaking their shared brood into movies at the mall. 

As much as it pained him to sit there, knowing that their every interaction meant much more to him than it did to Steve, he still found himself happy just to be in his presence. 

Maybe that could be enough. 

He could still be Steve’s friend, as long as he kept him at arm's length for now, and if they somehow managed to make it out alive—maybe then he could try to reclaim some of what was lost. 

Eventually their slowing words turned into yawns, and Steve suggested they should go back inside and get some sleep. “Maybe we should stick together again.” He whispered, as they made their way through the darkened kitchen. 

Eddie hesitated, he needed to maintain the boundary for his own sake, but he hadn’t considered Steve might be scared to be alone. “You’ve got your music now, just keep the tape going and you’ll be alright, I promise.” 

“It’s not me I'm worried about.”

Oh.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Steve. In all this time, Vecna’s never come for me.” 

Even more so than the first time they said goodnight, Steve looked like he wanted to argue, but ultimately he let it go. “If you’re sure.”

He couldn’t do this again. He would not allow himself to fall further when the future was so uncertain—when he still didn’t truly know, would never know, what their one shared kiss had really meant.

“I’m sure. Good night, Steve.”

“Good night.”

Eddie watched him climb the stairs, not walking away until Steve turned the corner and was out of sight. 

It was better this way, he reminded himself, and he’d keep on reminding himself as many times as he had to—needing no more motivation to keep some separation than to recall Dustin’s trembling voice saying, he’s gone. 

That was the sound Eddie carried with him as he curled up on the small couch, turned to face the back of it, and silently cried himself to sleep.

Chapter 8

Special thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

Reblogs are always appreciated and if you want to be tagged, just let me know! I'd be more than happy to do so 💜

Taglist: @hitlikehammers @pearynice @cranberrymoons @thoroughlycollected @blubblesandink @finntheehumaneater @brbsoulnomming @estrellami-1 @hellion-child @manda-panda-monium @spicysix @kikidoesfanfic @dreamwatch @lawrencebshoggoth @stillfullofshit @lil-gremlin-things @mamafaithful @klausinamarink

[typingdyslexiaisathing]

Unexpected Words (Trigun Modern AU) fanfic

content: Asha gets a call from Nai. Leaving her with a lot more to think and feel than she already was. Established relationships, casual talk, talk about relationships and romance, mention of scars and burns.

My headset gave a ring to let me know someone was actually calling me over Discord. So I hit the answer without looking at who it is. Since I was mildly certain who would be calling me. The voice on my headset making me tense even more than I had been. So I closed my eyes to lean back in my computer chair. "Asha. I won't mince words with you. What is going on over there?"

My sigh is one of pure annoyance as I grit my teeth. But I did answer to sound rather unhappy. "Nai. I have zero reason to spill my guts to you of all people. Especially when we all know you despise me. So why are you being so civil as to not accuse me of anything?"

The huff of air in my headset hinted at amusement. Since Nai was very much aware I didn't do subtle. I may love and cherish his twin Vash as much as my other room mate Wolfwood. Yet I wasn't going to play nice with a brother who obviously needed to work on his social skills. Yet it seemed that Nai was going to try and not be an obvious ass towards me. "Because I am genuinely worried. Vash hasn't answered my texts in a week. Wolfwood refuses to say anything to me. Other than at what angle I should shove the stick in."

I snickered. My eyes watering as I huffed for air. Which had Nai sigh to then continue. "I actually called Meryl and Milly. They both said things have been tense in your apartment. That my brother and Wolfwood have been going out while you are holed up in the apartment. So what exactly is wrong?"

My silence was telling for Nai to let me think. Until I just grumbled before answering. "Vash and Nicholas have been going out on dates. Like with flowers and all suited up in their Sunday best. Coming back looking like they are on cloud nine. Do I have to explain?" Nai went deadly quiet to then sigh into his mic. I could almost hear him rubbing at his eyes with one hand. "I see. Here I was expecting for one of them to be more aware of the obvious. Didn't you make each of them a gift to break the ice?" I groaned at that part. "Yes. I made Vash a dreamcatcher and I made Nick a wooden wolf carving. But I didn't sign the letters to them confessing. They figured they got delivered in the mail from some secret admirer."

Nai gave a word in some foreign dialect that made me relax a bit. Since it meant I didn't have to feel bad that neither of my love interests had put two and two together. With Nai confirming. "One would think that they would realize it was you. Considering you have an online business making wooden sculptures and wooden crafts. Or they did realize and finally pumped the brakes this week." I stretched in my chair to have several things pop in my spine. "Whatever. I already got my emotions stomped all over twice. I'd rather use the frustration to make more art to sell. Being productive to pay bills is better than wallowing twenty-four, seven." But Nai surprised me with a direct question. "Asha. One or the other or both?" I yelped to almost topple my chair over. "Wha- NAI! RUDE!"

The chuckle on the other end was rich with evident amusement as I felt my face burn over. So I growled at Nai over my headset. "Jerk. I hope Legato spikes your coffee with chili pepper powder." Nai actually laughed at that. A real laugh. Making me blink in surprise as he spoke. "He will. Since he heard you. I may just make my own coffee for the rest of the year. In any case. Asha. I will tell you this. Whoever you choose. You have my full blessing. If need be, I will grab both of them and sit them down for a long talk."

I went totally still as the shock washed over me. "Wait. What? You mean to tell me that you've got plans to do that already?" Nai didn't relpy to my questions. But he did huff a laugh. "In any case. I have a call from my current bidders on some of my dozens of stocks. Good day to you, Asha Selene Hatori." The call ended to leave me dazed and stunned. So I took my headset off to just move to my bed and lay down for a minute or thirty. If only to think and pray.

My mind went back to the first day I met the twins. One brooding and serious. The other smiling and cheerful. I had been nursing that childhood crush for Vash for my entire childhood and young adult life by now. Wolfwood had been a random chance encounter. A whirlwind for my teenage self to fall head over heels in love with him. The fact Wolfwood had grown into a broad and well muscled man of gruff sass and attitude did not help my hormones. We had moved in together once we had all graduated. A dilapidated apartment that we had refurbished into a cozy home. The building manager was a grouchy man named Roberto. But he did a fantastic job managing the building and keeping the other tenants happy. Meryl and Milly had opened a coffee shop down the street that had boomed in success since it opened. Adding a spunky college student named Zazie to their stuff had been a whirlwind of an addition.

Vash and Wolfwood were more than happy to help me with making wooden crafts and boxes for various orders and clients. Wolfwood picked up on the basics much quicker than Vash. While the whimsical artist touches Vash put into his own work dwarfed Wolfwood. They had learned a lot from myself and from my uncle. Who owned a business making wooden furniture. His workshop right next door to our apartment once his old one burned down. Uncle Kiegan had been our adopted father since we were all in elementary school. He had been the one to convince Nai to take up running the many businesses Vash and Nai had inherited from their biological parents. With their adopted mother Rem encouraging all of us to hold tight to our relationships and give our best to make our futures bright. My entire life had included Vash and Nai. Wolfwood had been a welcomed addition to our family dynamic. Leading to this good day to day life we'd had for so long. I had suspected for a while that Vash and Wolfwood at attempted being lovers. There was a full two years they left to go traveling across Europe together. Which had felt extremely lonely for me as I moved in to my Uncle Kiegan's place. He'd been in a bad accident shortly after they left for me to handle his recovery with him. The doctor named Conrad for him to be stoic and cold but extremely efficient at his job. Those two years had been difficult for me and for my uncle. But we'd grown closer as I helped him train other staff to help take on the workload.

I remembered when Vash and Wolfwood got back. They both seemed listless and somber that first week. Which I eased them out of with warm gestures and silent support to then distract them with the venture of taking up live streaming as a side job. Which we'd all enjoyed with great delight to earn a lot more than I was ever expecting from such a random idea. Even Meryl and Milly joined me in my livestreams for random party games every Saturday night. A year had gone by like this. A new dynamic settling into our lives. It was only last month that things got stressful for me. Since Vash and Wolfwood had scored dates for an upcoming big event. They'd dressed in suits and looked ready to slay. But they never said who they were going out with. I'd spent that entire night laying in bed with a full on migraine and miserable. Finding the two men on the couches with elated looks on their sleeping faces. That had sent me right back to bed to cry my eyes out and give up on them both. I'd tried dating a couple of wonderful men. But the last one had realized what I hadn't accepted yet. Austin had been kind when he spoke to me about just being friends. He'd said I was already in love with someone that was out of reach. Encouraging me to really look at how I felt about them and to make a plan of attack.

That had been several weeks ago for me to be here in my bed and silently bawling my eyes out again. Everything hurt as my mind went around like a carousel. I hate those rides. They always made me dizzy. So I was getting mad on top of hurt. Which had distracted me from the knock at my door. We had a knock system. So I only noticed that someone had come calling when the doorknob turned and rattled to then be followed by three knocks. The warning of someone was coming in right now unless told not to. But I didn't say anything as Wolfwood opened the door. His frown apparent on that handsome face for him to be in sweatpants and a loose fitting shirt. Bare feet padding over to then have him just land in my bed next to me. Those grizzly bear arms pulling me in to hug me tight. While our extra fluffy cat padded up and right into the bed to lick at the tears on my face. So I pet the sweet feline to let Wolfwood hold me. We had a kind of silent language. Something we'd built up over the years. We didn't need words sometimes. Our eyes and body language gave everything away for the other to instantly know. So Wolfwood didn't say anything as I pet our Manx cat we'd taken in last year.

The minutes ticked by for me to settle into a kind of acceptance that dulled the hurts by a bit. While Wolfwood gave me a solid presence of silent support of friend and family and perhaps more. Until we heard Vash call out our names from the front door. It didn't take Vash long to find us. Carrying a rather unexpected surprise in his arms. Which had Wolfwood sit up as we all heard whining and yipping. Vash walked in with a very happy puppy in his arms. My smile coming onto my face with the knowing that we now had another little addition to our every day. So I just sighed. "First you bring home Medea to crusade through our apartment and upend toiletries. Now you bring home an adorable whirlwind of energy? You keep that puppy, they are your full responsibility. No exceptions, Vash." Wolfwood grumbled under his breath for Vash to get that boyhood grin of pure delight. "Really?! You mean it?!" I nodded to grab my phone and text Roberto that we needed to see to puppy items by tomorrow. A text back on of a frowny face to then have a confirmation. While Wolfwood got up to walk over and actually get a good look at the puppy. Only to tisk as he made a point. "Asha. It's not one puppy. There's three of them."

I stilled to then update my text to Roberto. Who gave many frown faces as well as cuss words before confirming. But I just shook my head to let Medea knead into my side before she lay down. My words accepting and warm. "Like he would leave two behind when finding three of them. Like I said before. You keep them, your responsibility." Wolfwood openly groaned as Vash took in his moment of triumph. Since the apartment building was owned under my name and the twins names. Wolfwood had no real say about that. Yet he just scooped up the still yipping puppy to hold them to his face as he got peppered with licks and nuzzles. While Vash moved to set the other two down onto my bed. These two were fast asleep and giving soft snores on and off. Medea sniffed at the two of them to then start grooming one right away. So I just smiled as I took in the sight of these adorable little balls of fluff. They were a breed of welsh corgi by my guess. One with black in their fur. The other a caramel brown. So I smiled to say openly, "Hello there. Caramel. Oreo." Wolfwood barked a laugh as I just gave them obvious names. So he pet the still wriggling puppy in his arms to sigh. "Then this little guy is Rascal. Because he is going to be trouble. So. Asha. We gonna work at getting them a bath as we have a talk?"

I groaned at that to then just choose. Carefully sitting up to shake my head at them. "Bath first. Food second. Talk after." Wolfwood frowned to then sigh and roll his eyes. While Vash took off his coat to reveal he was wearing that sleeveless shift I had gotten him. Meaning his left arm and hand were in full view with all the scars and burns he had gotten over the years. He might be a soft hearted sweetie. but he always jumped into terrible fights and dangerous situations to protect others. It was why him being in law enforcement for a good long while had terrified me. Granted. Wolfwood had joined a fierce security company that might as well have been a part of KGB. At least that was how tough and ready to confront danger the programs had left Wolfwood in. Meaning both of them had and would get into trouble that required fisticuffs at certain points. Yet I chose to let those thoughts go to just admire the sight of Vash. Making my toes visibly curl as I gazed at him. Making Vash pause to then blush as he rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand. Uh. Asha. You have a weird look on your face. Something up?" I rolled my eyes for Wolfwood to get the hint and give Vash a nudge with his bare foot. "Seriously? Use your head, needle noggin. That's the look a lady gives to a handsome man." Vash blushed from the tips of his ears to his toes to look absolutely stunned. But he soon hid his face with his hands to stammer something about getting the bathroom ready. his steps rushed as he fled the room. So my gaze went to Wolfwood. Taking in that sculpted mountain of a man for him to raise an eyebrow at me. Only mildly distracted by the puppy in his arms that wants to lick his hand. "And now I get that same look but with much more interest. Asha. As you said. Bath first."

[outeremissary]

Balthazar 1, 9, 19, 41, 48

Hi Winter! What a fun list you've sent, ehehe. Thank you for your patience.

[prompt]

What is your character's reaction to a minor inconvenience? Such as getting their jumper caught on a door handle?

Depends on whether or not anyone is there to witness it. If he's alone, it's gritted teeth and hissed curses. He adapts to inconvenience quickly, sure, but he certainly doesn't take it gracefully by nature. If anyone is around to observe he tries to be far more restrained. It wouldn't do to let others see him lose his composure over something so trivial. Although the counterpart to that is that if he does let out that frustration in front of someone without thought, it's a sign of trust... or else a sign that they aren't going to be around much longer. Always two things with him.

9. What is your character's trigger point? What makes them angry, sad or makes them go off?

Oh, there are far too many things that anger him: the incompetence of his allies, being outmaneuvered by a foe, his own weakness, the horrible experience of having to trek through the wilderness, the inconvenience of being expected to take care of things himself, dealing with naive fools, anyone who treats him like an aasimar first and anything else second, being insulted even in small ways... the list goes on and on. But it's fine! He can hold it in. He's been bearing insults his entire life. Really setting him off takes some pushing. Continuing to chase the worst points of insecurity about his ancestry, his vulnerability, or his past will certainly draw it out. He's also angered on Tristian's behalf uncomfortably easily- even before he was aware of why.

He'd like to think that not much makes him sad, but that's not true. Thinking about his father makes him sad. Remember Absalom for too long makes him sad- he misses the city, but he doesn't think he can ever return. When he imagines his future failures, there's a bitter feeling that he wants to call anger, but isn't quite that. His confidence in himself lapses easily: he's always mourning what he's sure he's about to lose. Becoming distant from someone he genuinely cares about sends him spiraling as well- how fortunate that he can keep people at a safe distance!

19. What does your character consider to be their lowest point?

Before the Stolen Lands? Absolutely the period around the loss of his apprenticeship. Everything in his life suddenly went wrong all at once and he found himself with a reputation in tatters, no friends or allies, no reliable shelter, and no plan. He realized quickly that no one was willing to listen to his side of the story whether they believed or not. Between the shame of his failures and the insinuation that a certain enemy knew where his father lived, he didn't feel he had anywhere he could return to either. The scope of misery inflicted on him by falling into that trap is hard to measure. But he came back in the end- once he had a handle on the shock, he was already plotting his revenge. Unfortunately, even at the time he couldn't call the fulfillment of that vengeance more than a hollow victory.

In terms of the Stolen Lands... certainly entering the House. He was already wallowing in despair beforehand. The entrapment, separation, and desperate period of surviving on his own made him feel terribly, terribly small. But the details of that are for another day.

41. Your character has been punched into the face. What's their reaction?

Seething!! He's not well-equipped to do anything about it except try to bite back his rage. He's too weak to hit back, and his magic isn't exactly well equipped for retaliation much of the time as well. He'd already be thinking of how to repay the humiliation before his head even stopped spinning. On a related note, he truly hates Irovetti for the drunken melee incident.

Learning domination was certainly a game changer for making fools regret laying a hand on him. Still, it's far more limited than he'd like...

48. Is your character easy to make cry? Or angry? Or annoyed?

It's hard to make him genuinely cry, although it's not hard to draw out crocodile tears by seeming like the kind of bleeding heart they'd work on. The actual tearful breakdown would take a level of emotional overwhelm he's certain he'll never suffer again- before Kingmaker it had been years since the last time he could remember really losing it. Something that coincided with an incident previously mentioned in this post.

Anger and annoyance are far easier. See above. He tries not to express them too openly though- don't want anyone taking advantage.

[hexclaimed]

@hexfcrged

       he  would  find     himself  frustrated  at  how  outwardly  understanding  Jayce  seems  to  be,  no  matter  how  much  Viktor  self  deprecates  and  berates  himself  in  the  wake  of  everything  and  then  some.   he  never  really  allowed  himself  to  feel  anything  but  self  hatred.   even  before  making  such  terrible  choices,  Viktor  didnt  allow  himself  to  feel  much  past  what  he  shared  with  Jayce  or  for  their  work.   calmness,  forgiveness,  happiness  beyond  what  listed.  Viktor  had  pressed  himself  deep  into  everything  and  put  his  own  self  on  the  back  burner.  and  it  all  burned  brightly  within  his  chest  now,  anger  and  sadness  and  sorrow.  and  Jayce  seemed  so  quick  to  accept  it  all  and  guide  him  through  it.

       he  would  almost     pout  when  Jayce  talks,  self  loathing  blistering  up  but  finding  reasoning  without  Jayces  words  and  request  all  the  same.  he  shies  away  from  that  look  his  partner  held.  Viktor  let  that  undeserving  feeling  fester  in  silence  then,  finding  no  need  to  let  it  weight  heavier  upon  Jayce  as  it  already  bares  raw  within  Viktor. 

       he  shifts  in     the  link  of  the  others  arms  to  sit  up,  propped  by  his  elbow  as  amber  hues  gaze  down  upon  their  forms,  but  not  towards  Jayces  features.  for  now,  he  would  want  to  look  anywhere  but  there.        ❛❛  I  will  attempt.  ❜❜        he  agrees  in  a  soft  tone.        ❛❛  But  I  cannot  make  any  promises.  ❜❜        the  corner  of  his  mouth  twitches,  as  if  the  itch  of  a  smile  wants  to  show,  but  it  doesnt  seem  to  settle  into  place  beyond  that.        ❛❛  Besides,  I  do  not  think  you  will  let  me  continue  to  talk  about  myself  and  my…  problems  the  way  I  do  for  much  longer.  You  are  too  much  of  a  light  to  let  me  wallow  in  my  dark.  ❜❜        and  even  if  Viktor  doesnt  say  it  out  loud,  he  is  so  very  thankful  for  that.

       its  slow  that     those  eyes  finally  return  to  Jayces,  steadied  with  a  new  found  fondness,  a  soft  and  gentle  look  that  had  only  ever  been  imparted  upon  the  man  beside  him.  even  such  a  simple  proximity  leaves  his  chest  tight,  fluttering,  confused  but  content.        ❛❛  If  there  is  one  thing  I  can  say  I  do  not  regret  from  it  all,  it  would  be  this.  And  the  discoveries  we  have  uncovered;  arcane,  hextech,  or  otherwise.  ❜❜        the  unspoken  words  of  reasoning,  of  his  why,  resided  in  just  such  a  simple  gaze  upon  Jayce  and  the  way  his  handle  fiddle  anxiously  to  make  nonsensical  shapes  along  any  expanse  of  skin  he  could  touch. 

@hexclaimed;

In the realm of reality, Jayce walks their combined form through the bustling streets of a rural town. Their tall and elegant form remains draped in familiar and meaningful reds and blues, concealing their true nature as careful hands pluck at a variety of fruits along vendor stalls.

Within their cosmic domain lay their truth, open and exposed to one another. Jayce relishes in the gentle trail that Viktor leaves in the wake of his touch, leaning into each caress as instinctual as breathing. Another kiss to his crown comes, before Jayce meets him half way and leans back, loosening his hold just enough to allow them to properly look at each other again. The hand he holds atop Viktor's own over his heart squeezes.

Jayce is ever a good listener, totally captured in the safe web that is Viktor. His smile offers a gentle understanding, something poignant dancing within the array of colors that litter his eyes. When Viktor looks away, Jayce's hand is there upon his cheek to guide him back to him.

❛❛ That guilt you feel— that remorse, it never goes away, even in the face of someone's forgiveness. That's what makes it a punishment to receive. It doesn't feel deserved or earned, especially when you can't even forgive yourself. ❜❜  He isn't the wisest, but he tries. This time Jayce is the one to look away, however briefly, as he collects his thoughts. He can't help but hold Viktor a bit closer.  ❛❛ For me ... I think there's a mix of both. There are things I've done that I'll always feel guilt for, and the forgiveness given to me despite my actions will always feel undeserved. ❜❜

When Jayce meets Viktor's eye again, there's something steeled there; self assured and determined.  ❛❛ But to see where that road as led me, I can't bring myself to regret any of my mistakes, no matter the aches they bring. I can't ask you to forgive yourself, but can I ask you to be kinder to yourself, at least? ❜❜

[buckybabesonly]

Mockingbird

Summary: Bucky tells you he doesn’t need you, except he can’t live without you.

Pairing: Bucky x Doctor!Female!reader

Genre: Slight angst

Warnings: I’m not a medical expert, mentions of character injury, Bucky self-wallowing

Word count: 2.8k

Knowing that Bucky was constantly amid danger was the bane of your existence. You could plead him to be careful, always remind him to take care of himself, but you knew your words could do little to protect him from harm.

He was a soldier first and would always do the right thing on the field, no matter how dangerous. He would attack those against him and protect those beside him, even if it meant that his safety was on the line.

It was one of the sources of your arguments, and you hated it.

In the beginning, you thought you would be able to take it. After all, he had been doing this long before he met you. When you first got together, he had made sure you knew exactly what you were getting into.

Your love for Bucky had been stronger than anything, and you knew you had to at least try, no matter how unconventional the relationship.

So, over a year later, even though you couldn’t have frequent dates like a ‘normal’ couple, and sometimes Bucky crawled into your bed looking bruised and battered, and you had found yourself in the crosshairs of Bucky’s enemies one too many times, you thought you had finally found happiness.

Bucky worried about you too. Being his girlfriend meant that he had a weakness to be exploited, and the fear grew over time after the first attack on your life just four months into your relationship. It had been a close call, but after that incident you moved into the Tower which had much safer security measures than your downtown apartment. It was probably more convenient to live literally where you worked, anyway.

The unexpected turning point, however, was seeing Bucky being wheeled into the medical wing on a gurney, unconscious with blood painting every exposed inch of his face. You were paralysed with fear, unable to even speak as you were ushered out of the room, dressed in your scrubs but far too incapable of being the one to tend to him.

He had made a full recovery, but this did little to ease your anxiety. A week after he’d been discharged, your fights began again.

“We’ve had this conversation before,” Bucky said tersely, doing little to hide his frustration as you paced your room.

“And we’re having it again,” you said through gritted teeth. “Bucky, do you know how scared I was when I saw you? I literally couldn’t move – Steve had to basically carry me out of there. That’s never happened to me before. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think – I froze.”

Bucky’s face softened, knowing how terrified you were.

“That can’t happen again,” you continued, anger bubbling in your voice.

“What do you mean?” He dragged a hand across his face, looking exhausted.

“You almost died, Bucky.”

He scoffed. “They’ll have to try a lot harder to get rid of me.”

“Stop it!” You exclaimed loudly, turning on him, livid. “I know you always joke about things like that, but it’s not funny.”

“What do you want me to do?” It was a genuine question, and you were hyperaware of how tired Bucky looked in this moment. You felt guilty for adding to his existing stress, but you weren’t sure how you were going to cope anymore.

“Can you just – I don’t know, take a break?” You knew the words coming out of your mouth were silly, but you just wanted Bucky to stop. Stop getting hurt, stop getting injured, stop risking his life and risk taking himself away from you permanently.

“This is all I know,” Bucky said firmly. “You know that this is what I have to do.”

“Do you? Do you have to do it?” You challenged. Vaguely, in the back of your mind, you knew you were being unfair but your stubbornness meant you had to stick to your guns.

“What do you expect? You want me to take a part-time job in a grocery store, instead?”

You didn’t take kindly to his snarky tone, bristling.

“I’m expecting you to take this relationship seriously.”

“What part of me doing my job means I don’t take this relationship seriously?” He shot back, looking irate.

“You’re supposed to take my needs into consideration, too. Nowadays, every time you leave, I think it might be the last time I see you.” Your voice cracked on the final word, and Bucky could see you crumbling as your eyes stung.

He quickly approached you, pulling you into a comforting hug as you sobbed into his chest. He was the only person you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with, and he had seen you cry more often than he’d like to.

“Hey, hey, don���t cry. You’re breaking my heart,” he murmured, pressing his lips into your hair.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you said, knowing he didn’t quite understand the extent of your fear, try as he may.

The argument ended with kisses melting into your skin and reassuring words in your ear, and you allowed him to comfort you, though you knew it was only temporary.

Anger was blinding Bucky’s better judgement.

It was Sam’s turn to be wheeled into the medical wing, but this time, it didn’t look like he would be as lucky. He was still human, after all, and it looked like HYDRA had managed to do a number on the Falcon.

Sam had to undergo emergency surgery as Bucky stalked up and down the waiting room. He was muttering under his breath, Sam’s blood still slick on his hands.

You rushed to the medical wing as soon as you heard, knowing that Sam was in the safe hands of your colleagues and that your boyfriend needed you. However, he barely acknowledged your presence when you burst through the doors, panic written on your face.

Bucky was torturing himself mentally. Replaying the events a couple of hours ago over and over in his head, watching as Sam crashed onto the concrete ground, wings smashed into smithereens and his body unresponsive, as the assailants got away. They hadn’t been outnumbered, but were taken by surprise at HYDRA’s unusually advanced tech. They had equipment that Bucky and Sam had not been prepared for and, unfortunately, struggled to combat.

Bucky had managed to get out unscathed bar a few scratches and bruises, but Sam was in much worse shape. Perhaps the worst Bucky had ever seen him.

He hated himself.

They were partners, and he had failed him.

“Bucky, are you alright?” You had been repeating that same question over and over again, but Bucky barely seemed to hear you. “I’ve looked at the team’s initial assessment - Sam should be okay.”

Okay? How could anything be fucking okay when HYDRA was still a threat to Bucky, to you, to everyone that he cared about? He was seething with anger, feeling hopelessness and rage consume him.

“I need to get out of here,” he grunted finally, shrugging you off and walking towards the doors. You recognised this response - he was shutting down, shutting you out, wanting to internalise his rage.

You gaped at him, pulling on his arm. “You’re not going anywhere. Can you please talk to me?” You knew what had happened had shaken him up, and you were determined not to let him wallow by himself.

“I know where their nest is,” Bucky spat, speaking to himself more than to you. “I can get them.”

You stared at him, shaking your head in disbelief. “Are you serious? You can’t go in there by yourself.”

“Sam got hurt because we were too fucking scared to go straight for the target,” Bucky practically snarled. “We thought we could play a strategy, work bottom up. But fuck that, they almost killed us out there, and I’m fucking done.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” you said harshly, knowing that Bucky wasn’t thinking straight. “You’re going to go in there, guns blazing and get outnumbered and beat? Again?”

“I can get the backup,” Bucky grunted.

“You’re putting yourself and everyone else’s lives in danger,” you said sternly. “Stop it and use your brain for one second, James.” You were secretly terrified, knowing that nothing could stop Bucky once he had his mind set on something. What would you do if he went in there alone and unprepared? What would you do if he got injured like Sam?

Bucky glared at you, and you almost recoiled at the sight, but stood your ground. “You know I’m right. You are being stupid and reckless.” You kept your voice steady, staring him down.

He marched up to you, pointing to the room where Sam was currently being operated in. You flinched at how furiously his boots pounded against the ground.

“Sam could die because of me.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said, exasperated. “You need a plan of attack. I know you’re angry right now, but you need to be calm.”

You watched as he turned away from you and suddenly lashed out, punching a sizeable dent in the wall, making you jump.

“You don’t know shit.”

You grimaced, hating the way he was speaking to you.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” you said, a small scowl on your lips. “I’m scared, Bucky. I won’t have you going out there, especially not in this state of mind. You’re not thinking straight.”

“I can’t just sit here doing nothing knowing full well where they are,” Bucky said, jaw clenching. He was feeling so frustrated and didn’t know why you couldn’t seem to understand.

“I know you’re angry,” you repeated, making Bucky’s jaw tick, “but you’re thinking blindly, and you need me to make you see sense.”

“I don’t need you for anything,” he said sharply.

His back was still turned to you, but you could see how his shoulders immediately sagged out of their defensive position once the words left his mouth. You audibly gasped, taking a step back and swallowing hard. Your lower lip quivered uncontrollably.

The constricting in your heart was awfully painful as you absorbed his words, ringing loud and clear.

I don’t need you.

His words made one of your biggest insecurities become something fully tangible. The deep-rooted belief that, at the end of the day, Bucky didn't really have any use for someone like you.

Cursing, he turned back round to look at you properly, his face full of guilt at your crestfallen expression.

“I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t say anything at first, inhaling shakily. Trying to catch your breath.

“It’s fine,” you said quietly, unable to hide the tears in your eyes. He took a step forward but you walked backwards again, rapidly until your back thudded against the doors.

"I shouldn't have said that -" he began, hating the way he could see the way your nails were digging hard into your fleshy palms, the way you did whenever you felt upset. Your mouth was trembling and he knew you were trying so hard not to cry

“I’m going to go,” you said quietly, turning to make your hasty exit and ignoring his pleas for you to stay.

You said quietly in your room, mulling to yourself carefully about what had happened. You had locked yourself away as soon as you had assurance from your fellow doctors that Sam’s surgery had been a success.

Bucky’s words swam in your mind. You knew they were borne from anger, but they had to have some truth in it.

He didn’t need you, not really. What could you give him that someone else couldn’t? What’s more, you were just an ordinary human. Weak, expendable.

You felt a cold chill creep through your chest as you continued to let the thoughts swirl.

You didn’t want to make the mistake of believing that you were more important to him than you actually were.

You pulled your knees to your chest, sat on the ground at the foot of your bed. You hugged them tight as if they could provide you some comfort, letting your tears soak into the fabric of your jeans.

Bucky never had a bad word to say against you. He was always the first person to battle away your self-doubts, your self-loathing, your insecurities. You wondered if he had always secretly believed that he didn't truly need you.

It was insane how much words could hurt.

A gentle tapping at your door made you jump, and you knew instantly it was him. His voice followed shortly after, a gentle plead.

“Can you open the door?”

His voice was apologetic, and it just made you want to cry harder. You heard him sigh when you didn’t respond.

“I’m really sorry, sweetheart. I really didn’t mean it. I was just being a jerk.”

You forced yourself to stand up and padded over to the door, knowing that he could hear your movements. You took a deep breath and opened it, met by the sight of his handsome, guilt-ridden face.

“It’s okay,” you said curtly, shrugging. “You said what you said. And I think, to some extent, you meant it.”

He scanned your tear streaked face, knowing how hard you were trying to keep your expression cool and face emotionless.

Bucky’s face became anguished, frowning and shaking his head vehemently. He stepped forward, taking your hands in his, though yours remained limp in his large palms.

“I didn’t,” he said firmly. “Of course I didn’t mean it.”

Bucky knew he couldn’t just take his words back and pretend they never happened, and he despised that he had hurt you.

His emotions were complex, his anger raw and all-consuming. He had been so caught up in his thoughts, he lashed out at your mere suggestion of reigning them in. He didn’t need to be placated – or so he thought – he just wanted to ride out that anger and hurt those people who posed a threat to everyone he cared about.

How could he make you think that he didn’t need you? Of course he needed you – you were his motivation for everything in life. You were his reason that he wanted to be better.

He should have listened to you when you tried to reason with him. He lost control of his feelings, and he was ashamed.

Bucky hugged you suddenly, circling his arms around you. He breathed in your scent, closing his eyes as you stood with your arms by your sides, unsure of what to do.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed again, his words like silk in your ear. “Today has been kind of a shitty day. With HYDRA showing their faces again, and Sam getting hurt, and knowing that you could be in danger…it made me feel like I had to get out there and shut down any possibility of something happening to you. And I felt that I needed to do that alone, to be the one to eliminate the threat.”

You bit down on your lower lip, tears welling in your eyes again. You could feel the love radiating from Bucky as he held you, and it helped soothe the ache in your heart.

“When you tried to calm me down, I know you meant well, doll, I’m so sorry. But there was a voice in my head telling me that I have to do everything in my power to keep you safe, and when you told me not to do anything, I snapped.” His confession was wrought with honesty, and you softened your stance, raising your arms up to wrap around him, too.

“I know it doesn’t make sense,” he mumbled, sounding embarrassed now.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, tilting your head back to look at him. “I know you just want to protect me.”

“Believe me,” he said sternly, eyes locked with yours, “that I need you. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he nodded. “I may be a fucking super soldier with a dumb metal arm and fight off bad guys, but I need you to remind me that I’m much more than just that.” He studied your face long and hard, making sure that you really understood him. Finally, he leaned down to kiss your lips. “Forgive me?”

“Mmm,” you murmured, unable to concentrate now as he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer against his body, his solid chest.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a maybe. I might need a little more convincing,” you muttered, pulling him into your room and closing the door behind him.

The door stayed shut for the rest of the evening.

[borderlinebox]

idk if you’re still taking requests but can we get one where you and chishiya became friends in borderland and you were cute and constantly affectionate w him (though he pretended it to like it) and one day he says something too mean to dismay your affection but it makes yn cry and he finds a way to apologize

>- Company for everyone's concern, no will not be back :). just not in my current writing season but decided to make something. bittersweet ending!

"Good night!" You called out to him with a happy smile and a wave. A wave you gave him day and night - whenever you see him, really. It always managed to bring a smile to your face.

But it couldn't be said the same for him.

As much as he appreciated you for being kind towards him - which he saw as foolish at first - he couldn't help but maybe close his eyes to prevent himself from rolling them. He knew you had no harsh intentions for him nor were you planning anything against him, but maybe it was the constant affection that got him reeling.

He turned away from you, not replying to your farewells.

Of course, this struck you as odd. And since you were so generously kind with your affections, you elected to discuss about it. Just a friendly gesture.

What could go wrong?

"Chish?" You turned around, meeting his hooded figure. He didn't stop walking, not even returning a simple hum of which he mostly spoke to you with these days.

With no reply, you continued. "Chishiya, are you okay?"

Your hand reached out to him. Was that a mistake? It must've been. Just when you softly gripped his white, dull jacket, he immediately shrugged it away from you.

"You're annoying you know that?" He spat in annoyance.

Maybe it wasn't something he meant to slip out but it already did anyway. The deed was done. He must have noticed because he felt himself gritting his teeth together. Not in irritation but in frustration of himself.

However, this brought tears in your eyes. But you didn't allow it to escape, no, you kept it there, swimming in those glassy eyes of yours.

Was he finally annoyed with you?

You were always concerned about his behavior around people like you. You thought he was just being nice since you were friends with Kuina. And yet in the end you two grew close but eventually the truth had to come over and break your precious heart.

"I, I understand." A whisper, your voice. Without a word, you decided the best thing to do was just walk away from the situation and maybe Chishiya's life.

You didn't want to be a bother him. To anyone really.

You couldn't bear the pain in your head the next morning.

Just like what anyone would do in a time of crisis like this, you drank your pains away. Enough to make you forget you ever wallowed in your tears just the night before. You preferred it that way.

Even better, with that banging hangover of yours, you decided it would be fun if you went out of your room and not wanting to be confined in there with the wreaking scent of alcohol and despair.

What a dumb decision, you thought. Now you were stuck in the lounge bar, sitting next to him.

For the first time, you didn't start the conversation with a cute smile and an affectionate hug. In fact, You didn't start the conversation at all.

"Y/N,"

"Sorry, Chishiya. I'll go." You said blankly, getting ready to leave.

With no hesitation, the fake blondie spoke back up in a light yet low and dark tone. "Sit down."

Thinking this was serious, you hesitated, gulping. But maybe this was the right choice. Maybe you both have to talk it out and say some things that are needed to say. Rip the bandaid, as Kuina would say.

It took a while for him to say something again. "About last night, apologies."

Despite knowing Chishiya for not much time in your life, you surprisingly understood the fact that he indeed was being apologetic. He didn't show it all too much but you somehow knew.

".. It's fine." Another blunt answer before getting off the chair again, wanting to give him space.

"Wait." He turned to you a little, just enough for you to see his face and the drink he had in his left hand which rested on the counter of the bar. "Stay. I want company."

To say that Chishiya's voice was deep and alluring would be an understatement. You decided to stay, not only granting his wish, but also to talk things out.

After a moment of silence, you had the courage to say something instead.

"So, do you wanna talk boundaries instead?"

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim #25: Happy Birthday

Masterlist

content: vampire whumper, defiant whumpee, captivity

so understanding part 2 will be coming next, i realized this needed to be first bc the events will be referenced in the next part, lol. this is a bit of a short one, my shortest chapter yet i think. next one will be far longer.

takes place about half a year into jim’s captivity, a couple months after his first escape attempt.

-

Jim hated it here.

Kane had gotten much more violent since his doomed escape attempt. It seemed like the vampire was getting more and more frustrated with him, that every other word out of his mouth was wrong. Jim had always been told he had no brain-to-mouth filter, and now it was biting him in the ass.

He hadn’t so much as seen another person besides Kane in months, and it was starting to drive him mad. He just wanted someone to talk to, someone who didn’t hurt him, who he didn’t have to be afraid of. But here he was, all alone. He might be all alone for the rest of his life.

And his birthday was tomorrow.

Jim hadn’t really done much for his birthday in a good few years, to be honest. Ever since his parents died, money had been tight, and he’d rather spend anything extra on Liz than on a party for himself. She was just a kid, after all. But he’d usually go to the arcade with some friends and then have dinner with Liz, and it was nice. Just being with people he loved. Liz would make a terrible cake that he’d pretend to enjoy, and even though the cake was bad, his smile was genuine.

But not this year. This year he was going to have his neck bitten, his blood drained, and then spend the entire night with the vampire holding him captive, without so much as a “happy birthday”. No seeing his friends or family. Maybe he’d even get roughed up if he was unlucky enough.

Yeah, not worth a “happy birthday” anyway. He wasn’t happy very often these days.

“Stop fucking glaring at me, human. Know your place.” Kane snapped, looking up from his book with a scowl.

“Huh?” Jim had ostensibly been re-watching one of Kane’s VHS tapes, but had zoned out to wallow in his own misery. He’d been glaring at Kane from the other end of the couch without even realizing it.

“What’s your problem? You’ve been acting strange all day.” Kane continued.

Jim was lucky. Kane wasn’t in a bad mood today. Another day, he’d have been hit for sure. Jim had been in fights before, but vampires hit hard.

“If you’ve gotta know, it’s my birthday tomorrow.” Jim answered.

“Oh. March third.” Kane didn’t sound angry or condescending, for once. He sounded... sad. After a pause, he added, “How old are you turning?”

“Twenty.” He’d been looking forward to it, before. Finally out of his teens. Nothing much to celebrate now.

“What do humans do for birthdays?” Kane asked.

Jim shrugged. “Cake. Presents. Spend time with loved ones. You know, all the things I can’t do trapped in here.”

Ah. Spoke without thinking again. Here it comes. Jim tensed up in anticipation.

But Kane didn’t approach. “I get you presents all the time.” he argued. “All your things are from me.”

“That’s not presents.” Jim was feeling bold. Kane had been chill so far today. “That’s just, like, what I need to survive.”

Like taking care of a pet.

Jim quickly discarded the thought. No, he wasn’t going there. “And some other stuff I ask for. It’s not a present if I write it on a shopping list.”

“Most humans don’t get to make any requests, you know.” Kane retorted. “Not that they have the state of mind to do it in the first place.”

Jim rolled his eyes. Kane loved to bring up the fact that Jim was unhypnotized. The worst part was that most of the time, it didn’t even seem like Kane was doing it as a things-could-be-worse argument like he was now. Most of the time, Kane seemed to be talking to himself about it, like Jim wasn’t worth the consideration, jealousy seeping through his words. As if it wasn’t enough to take Jim’s entire life away, Kane wished to take his very mind from him.

“I get it. Forget I fucking said anything.” Jim grumbled, seething.

Kane stood up, lightning fast, hand clenched into a fist. Jim flinched.

“Go to your room. Now.” Kane commanded.

He obeyed, slinking off to relative safety.

-

Jim woke up depressed.

Happy birthday to me, he thought, laying in his bed.

Usually, he’d get up and make breakfast for himself. He always felt extra dizzy if Kane fed from him before he’d had a chance to eat and drink. But he just didn’t feel like it. He wished he could just have a lazy day in without worrying about the consequences of blood loss, especially on his birthday.

Kane unlocked the door after what Jim would estimate as a good half-hour. He pulled the covers over his head and groaned.

“Come on. Up.” Kane ordered.

Jim was thankful that he didn’t sound angry about it. That was two nights in a row, now. But he wished Kane didn’t say it like he was talking to a fucking dog.

“Fine.” He threw his blanket off and knelt, tilting his head just like he knew he was supposed to. At least Kane had finally been getting the hang of feeding. It still hurt terribly having the same wound re-opened night after night, the flesh around the area always angry and red and purple, but it was a lot better than how it’d been when Kane was still learning.

First neck bite of my twenties, Jim thought bitterly as Kane fed. He sucked in a sharp gasp as Kane pulled his fangs out. It was still hard to get used to the feeling of it, even after months here.

“I’m just gonna stay in here today.” Jim said after Kane licked the wound closed.

“Oh. Okay. Just come out for a minute, I have something for you.” Kane said, motioning for him to follow.

Jim followed, swaying a little on his feet, only to be stunned when he was greeted by an entire chocolate cake waiting on the table in the living room. It looked fancy, like the kind you would buy from a really nice bakery.

“That’s for me?” he asked.

Kane raised an eyebrow. “I’m certainly not going to eat any of it.” Duh. “I got some new movies for you as well. They’re in the cabinet with the other VHS tapes.”

“HOLY SHIT, SERIOUSLY?” Jim exclaimed, forgetting entirely about the cake and rushing over to check out the new material. It was all stuff he’d never heard of. More vampire movies. He’d been re-watching the same few tapes Kane owned for months, and was ecstatic to get something new.

He grabbed one immediately. “Can we watch it now?”

“Sure.” Kane sat in his usual spot on the left end of the couch.

Jim quickly ran back to the human quarters to grab a plate, knife, and fork, his woes momentarily forgotten. After cutting himself a slice of cake, he popped the tape in and sat on the opposite end of the couch to munch away. His hands were shaking from the low blood sugar, so it was good that he was eating cake for breakfast, he figured.

“Happy birthday.” Kane said.

“...Thanks.” Jim didn’t want to thank him. He wouldn’t have been grateful for new VHS tapes at all if he wasn’t held captive in this stupid fancy house. But he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “When’s your birthday?” he asked, mildly curious.

Kane’s mood change was instant, his vaguely amicable demeanor turning icy. “Shut the fuck up. Don’t talk about my fucking birthday.” He had that sharp warning tone he always used before he’d get violent.

“Okay, okay, sorry.” Jim conceded, tensing up. He didn’t even know what he’d said wrong.

“Whatever.” Kane mumbled.

Jim slowly relaxed as it became apparent Kane was over it. He wished he was home, spending his birthday with his friends and Liz.

But for the first time since Jim had been brought here, things were a little bit okay.

-

canon drabbles posted between #24 and #25:

Dog

Light & Laughter

Midday Snack

Greatest Wish (cw: death wish)

Five Minutes (cw: gore)

taglist:

@badluck990

@ceph-the-writing-spook

@cicatrix-energy

@crying-wings

@crystalquartzwhump

@cupcakes-and-pain

@cyberneticfire

@darlingwhump

@deluxewhump

@down-in-the-whumps

@elrysdoesstuff

@extemporary-whump

@extrabitterbrain

@harri-00

@inpainandsuffering

@interdimensional-chaos

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast

@lactose-intolerant-egg

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps

@littlespacecastle

@little-whumpee

@melancholy-in-the-morning

@myhusbandsasemni

@mylifeisonthebookshelf

@neverthelass

@nicolepascaline

@nine-tailed-whump

@no-terms-and-conditions-apply

@octopus-reactivated

@oddsconvert

@onlybadendings

@pumpkin-spice-whump

@quietly-by-myself

@quirkykayleetam

@ramadiiiisme

@redwhump

@scp-1296

@secretwhumplair

@thecyrulik

@thegreatwhodini

@themarlo

@whump-cravings

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@whump-me-all-night-long

@whumpthisway

@whumpilicious

@whumpshaped

@whumpwillow

@whumpworld

@whumpy-writings

@whumpyzombie

@wits-and-wrongs

@wolfeyedwitch

[justathoughtfulangel]

Hummingbird ~ Colors, Chapter 11 (Kai Parker Fanfiction)

Hello, my dear readers! I'm just about two weeks away from graduating, and writing is keeping me sane while I study for finals and writing my last few papers. Welcome to Chapter 11 of Colors, my Kai Parker Soulmate AU Fanfiction.

This is NOT meant to be read as a standalone piece. Events of the story and even the universe it is set in vary greatly from the original show. If you haven’t yet, please read the Details post and previous chapters linked on this masterlist.

*not my gif

Word Count: 1,948

I don’t like writing with Y/N in the place of character names, but this IS a reader insert fanfiction. I use Rosalie Wilson as a placeholder. Use Rose/Rosalie as a substitution for Y/N.

Warnings: scattered mature language, implied smut

Malachai wanted to fall to his knees, take back the words that cut her like a knife. He couldn’t. She’d vanished, and he had no idea where he could even begin to look for her. Kai’s palms were still bleeding, and the blind rage from seconds ago turned into deep regret.

Wiping his hands on the front of his jeans, staining the denim red, Kai forced himself to take a breath and get back into the car. The engine was still running. With a forceful hit against the steering wheel, he let out a heavy snarl of frustration. “What the fuck am I doing?” 

Kai knew he’d been an absolute moron; she vanished and took all of his frenzied wrath away. He had been stupidly jealous of someone who had no importance. He slapped his own face a few times, hoping the sensation would wake him up. 

Kai maneuvered the car back onto the road, continuing on the path toward their home. As he pulled into the driveway and saw all the lights were off, Kai knew Rosalie wasn’t there. He had no clue where she was. His head fell into his hands, the base of his palms slamming against his forehead over and over and over. 

It took him fifteen minutes to get himself together: fifteen minutes of complete silence before Kai’s mind pulled all his emotions together and shut his heart up for a little while. This wasn’t the time to wallow in self-pity.

Nothing else mattered right now. He had to find her.

~

Malachai drove around for hours, and it was still early in the night. He called her a million times with no answer. He was on the way to the Mystic Grill. Their friends were going after the bonfire, and maybe she’d told someone where she was. Just as he parked, his phone rang. A picture of him and Rosalie lit up the screen, and he rushed to answer.

“Rosalie! Before you say anything, I’m so, so sorry. Please just come back. I didn’t mean it. You know that. I was just being stupid and–” Rose cut him off, and even then, the only thing he felt was relief from hearing her voice.

“I know, Kai. I know. I just need a little while, okay? I’ll come home soon. I’ll be home in an hour or two. Don’t worry about me. We’ll talk then.” Kai let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes and leaning back against his seat. “Okay. Stay safe.”

“I will. I love you.”

The dial tone rang out before Kai could return the sentiment. The phone fell from his hand to the passenger seat, and no one heard his next words. “I love you too.”

~

Rosalie hung up the phone, shutting the power off. She needed some time to herself, to remember what life was like without Malachai for a little while. 

There wasn’t much worth remembering. Unlike Kai, her childhood had been the most peaceful part of her life. Then, she unraveled it all by killing her family in a fire she couldn’t control. Rose hadn’t felt much of anything in the last few years. Nothing but guilt mixed with an eternal numbness.

Kai brought emotions back into her life. He made her remember all of it, made her feel all of it again. Without his humanity, Kai had reveled in his murderous past. She remembered resenting him for it – as much as one could resent their soulmate, anyhow.

Leaning against a boulder, Rose watched the rushing waters of the Falls. She let them send her into a trance as she took stock of her life. 

Rose could never resent Malachai, no matter what he said or did. She would always forgive him; one can only survive so long without forgiving themselves or the one they love.

~

Damon slid over a basket of waffle fries in Kai’s direction, gesturing for him to eat. He poked around them with no desire to eat any. “Oh, stop pouting. This was your first fight. You’ve got plenty ahead of you.” Malachai gave Damon a withering stare, unamused. “Thank you, Damon. Really comforting.” 

He left the group, heading over to the bar. Adding alcohol to his mood would be a bad idea, so he just ordered a club soda with lime. Stefan followed Kai, taking a seat next to him. “Let me guess. Damon is an ass, and Stefan comes to apologize on his behalf.”

Stefan pressed his lips together, nodding sheepishly. “Mhmm. That’s how our world goes ‘round.” Kai just shook his head, taking a sip of his drink. “It’s been, what, over sixteen decades by now? Don’t you get tired of it?”

“It’s just what we do for people we love.” 

What we do for the people we love. The words weighed heavily on Malachai. There was only one person he’d ever loved, and he hurt her beyond measure. He’d given up what he spent his lifetime desiring, and he would do it again. Kai would give up the Coven leadership – all that power – without a second thought for Rosalie. 

The words came out of this self-loathing, insecure, envious side of him: something Kai thought he’d left behind long ago. Maybe it never left. Maybe the darkness would forever be a part of him. The darkness may not ever leave, but he needed her. Malachai needed Rosalie to light up the darkness that threatened to consume him. Forever. 

~

An hour later, Malachai parked their car in the garage. Sighing deeply, he made his way inside, not knowing if Rosalie was home or not. The second he stepped through the door, he saw Rose asleep on the couch. The lamps were on, and a blanket covered her halfway. 

Walking over to her quickly, he hovered over her, not sure if he should wake her. The trails of tears on her cheeks caused sharp pangs of pain in his heart. He did this, all with his mindless words, words he wished he could take back. Deciding it was best not to wake her after all, Kai tucked a lock of hair behind her cheek.

As gingerly as possible, Malachai placed one arm under her knees and the other under her neck, lifting her gently. She stayed asleep, thankfully, and he carried her upstairs to their bed. He laid her down gently, pressing his lips to her tear-stained skin. “I’m so sorry. I will never hurt you like that again.” 

Just as he started to pull away, Kai felt Rosalie’s fingers grasp his wrist. “Malachai…” Her voice was quiet but not broken or hurt. He was eternally grateful for that. He looked back at her, his eyes swimming with remorse. “Rosalie, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean any of that. I’m just an idiot. A stupid, jealous, emotionally immature idiot who loves y–”

His words were cut off by her finger pressing against his lips. Rose shushed him, shifting so he’d come to lay beside her. “I know you didn’t mean it. That’s not the part that concerns me.” Though confused, Kai listened and clambered into the bed with her after kicking his shoes off. 

“I know you didn’t mean what you said, you were hurt and angry. But Kai, you cannot react that way. Soulmate or not, in order for us to survive, you have to trust me just like I trust you. When I say it was nothing, you have to listen to me.

“Logan was someone I tried to distract myself with years ago. He was human, and I knew he wasn’t my soulmate. But I was hurt and lonely and… once I realized that my feelings for him weren’t genuine, I broke up with him. It was wrong to use him like that.”

True to what Rosalie said, Logan did not have any importance in her life; Malachai felt like she’d been hiding something. No matter if it was irrelevant, she needed to tell Kai for the sake of getting rid of his hurt and confusion. 

“Kai, you know me. You know me more than anyone. You understand me in a way that no one else can. Please trust me.” 

Malachai swallowed nervously, wrapping his arms around her. He lifted her up, laying Rosalie on top of him. “I do trust you. I trust you more than I trust myself.”

His arms enveloped her, squeezing her tenderly. “I promise, I won’t ever behave like a little boy throwing a tantrum again.” 

Rose laughed once, raising her head. Her hair formed a curtain around them. Their lips met, and the candles scattered around the room all sparked to life at once.

After the emotional rollercoaster today, they needed this. In eager yearning, Rosalie’s lips danced with Kai’s. With a swift but tender movement, Malachai turned them, now on top of Rose. Her fingers tangled into his soft brown hair, keeping him close to her.

With a strong, decisive grip, Kai grabbed her left calf, hooking it around his hip. Their limbs meshed together, and Malachai sat up for just a second, tugging off her shirt and his own desperately…

~

When Rosalie’s eyes opened, still under the cover of darkness, they met Kai’s. He was awake, just looking upon her silently with a gentle smile on his face. She returned the smile sleepily, nuzzling into his embrace. “Why are you staring at me?” 

He chuckled a little, perfectly at peace. His lips pressed to her temple. “Because you’re pretty. And I love looking at you. And I love you.” Kai’s left hand came up, stroking her hair soothingly. “It’s still really early. Go back to sleep, baby.” 

“What about you?”

“I’ll sleep soon. Sometimes…” Kai’s cheek nestled against the crown of her head, his eyes fluttering closed. “Sometimes I just need to look at you for a little while and remember that you’re here. Remember that you’re real.”

Rose paused, pulling away just a bit to meet his eyes. She remembered the days when she, too, questioned if what they’d found in each other was real. 

It had to be. There was proof of it everywhere.

Electricity flowed with every brush of their skin. Life didn’t feel whole without the other by their side. Most of all, they were blessed with seeing colors. 

“I’m here, Malachai. I’m here, and so are you.” Kai cupped Rosalie’s face lovingly, kissing her lips. “I know.”

With the sheet wrapped around her, Rose slipped out of bed. She opened the drawer to their dresser, getting two of Kai’s shirts. Tossing him one, she put on the other while Malachai slid on his shorts. He didn’t exactly know why they were getting dressed and not going back to sleep, but he didn’t question it. 

“Come with me.” With a gentle voice, Rose held her hand out to him. Kai took it, following behind her obediently. They went down the stairs and through the back door, standing in front of a big willow tree. Malachai watched as she knelt on the ground, using a garden tool to dig into some pile at the base of the tree.

“Rose, what are you–” His voice stopped abruptly. Malachai was no longer a siphon, but he had been one long enough to feel the unimaginable power emanating from the ground. Rosalie lifted this dirty, half-burnt hummingbird toy from the ground. 

In complete silence, she stood again, placing it into his hand. With tears in her eyes, Rosalie gave him the greatest gift of all. One drop slid down her cheek. Malachai brushed it away as the sun’s first rays of the day washed over them. 

“You shouldn’t have to lose anything.”

~~~

This concludes Chapter 11 of Colors! Thank you so much for reading :)

When Chapter 12 is posted, I will link it here. Until then, feel free to check out my other stories from my Malachai Parker Masterlist (pinned to the top of my profile).

Please feel free to send any thoughts/comments/constructive criticisms my way. I always welcome them!

If you’d like to be added to the taglist for this story and/or for my other Kai Parker pieces, please send me a message or leave a comment on this post.

Until next time, JustAThoughtfulAngel :)

Master Taglist: @bluelicious, @genevivetaylor, @socio-kai-path1972, @kolsangel, @callsign-luckyshot

Colors Taglist: @southernbell91, @rootbeerfaygo, @enretrogue @felinegrate

[starshipsofstarlord]

Can I request a Kai Parker smut

stuck in 1903

kai parker x reader / masterlist

summary; being trapped in the prison world after sacrificing yourself to protect your friends, leads to some very embarrassing and frustrating situations / warnings; kai being an annoying lil shit, mentions of death, smut, possessiveness, imprisonment,

the prison world, perhaps it would have been slightly peaceful if an entrapped witch was not following your every move like an obsessed ghost. he was relentless, stalking his threatening footsteps after your own, prowling for a manner of attention.

“if you stop this whole, ‘let’s walk in y/n’s shadow’ charade, i will have sex with you. can we pursue a deal concerning the matter?” instantly, the witch muted his movements, gripping onto the side of the aisle shelf as he studied you, searching to see if your prospectus contained serious regard.

once he had come to a conclusion, he raised his eyebrows. kai had tried his darnest to keep you contained in that house that he likened to call a home. there was something he didn’t wish for you to discover, he was keeping you isolated from everything within the empty world that his family had banished him to.

that made you think, that it was possible, that perhaps other souls had entered the enclosure of this world, and that was why you were seeking, in the hopes of providing yourself with the comfort that you weren’t alone in this cursed nation with the one, and the only, to your misfortune, kai parker.

there wasn’t much that you knew about him, he was a practical talker, rather than a personal one. he had stocks of questions about the modern world, so that he could relish in the imagery of how much it had evolved without him. a part of you pitied him, but another worried that there was a wisp of darkness that he was hiding.

you didn’t know him, he was a stranger, and that truth made him potentially dangerous. it was safe to always remain on your toes, even if he had a habit of trailing huskily after. it gave him no chance of envisioning you as a sitting duck, every day was the same, but he was the one thing that could change that.

one tip of his mindset, and he could remember that he preferred being alone. and he could kill you, piking you on a stake, despite being human, or using his siphoning hands to drain all life out of your body. this wasn’t your first rodeo with the aftermath of death; bonnie had found a way to bring you back, her power flowed through you, keeping you logically alive, to a fault that was.

parker licked his pork rind exploited lips, collecting the dust from the treat, and bringing it into the cauldron of his mouth. the man was thinking, and that idea alone scared you. however you waited for him to persevere with whatever was unravelling in his mind, although you could have easily passed him by, finding elsewhere to seek salvation.

“is there a due date for that offer, because i’d like to take you up on it right now?” a smirk curved his mouth. perhaps not every day was the same, this was certainly going to be different, that was one thing that was for sure.

he noticed how your shoulders withered from the thought; sex in a grocery store, you had never been so filthy, and despite there being nobody around to bare witness to the sin, it still had your skin crawling. hugging your arms across your chest, you sighed, giving into his slick prompt, leaning your head down out of self disrespect.

kai couldn’t be trusted, you knew that. not for the fact that his own family had sent him here, to wallow in nothing more than the loneliness of his own company. there had to be a reason! nobody’s mother nor father would do such an act for no resolving purpose.

gulping, you finally grew the guts to adjust your gaze on him, and how he tapped his foot, silently demanding a response. “i mean it kai, we have sex, and you stop trailing after me like some stray. you got that?”

he got it. his footsteps came closer to you as he backed you into a shelf along the outer wall, enclosing you against the packets of rustling pork rinds, accidentally crushing their interior contents, as you raised your chin up, obscenely glaring at the mysterious man.

“oh, i heard every word.” he held out his pinkie finger to make a promise, and sickeningly you reached your own out, shaking on it, before he rasped his hand around your wrist, pressing a kiss upon the thin flesh. leaning down, kai attached your lips, humming contently, it had been so long since he had endured the contact of another person.

with his unoccupied hand, he slithered it down your chest, dragging his knuckles down your stomach, before he reached the tender edge of your trousers. he toyed with the band, the action making you stifle any sounds of admitted likening to his teasing; if you did, then he would only continue to do so more.

it felt like forever since you had gotten laid, a large portion of you wanted kai to take you on the spot, which it looked as though that was his intent, and that he definitely would do so. but another felt sick of yourself, these were the extents that you would go to to be left alone, and there was not exactly a plan b if he didn’t.

you wanted to obtain a way out of this place, and possibly the only chance that you had of doing so was to wander away from his ever watching eyes, and strive on your own, trying to discover any evidence of life throughout this semi detached world. you felt like a cattle, being guarded by their herder, he was protecting you from anything that could daunt your mind with realisation.

it wasn’t the fact he was protective, it was more in the terms of possessiveness. though he wanted to leave, he claimed that there was no way out, he was intent on descending your hope of uncovering an escape, from not only the ghost town of your home, but from him also.

“what to first? should i just fuck you or make you blow me?” his teeth toyed with a sly smile, as though he were trying to convince you into a conflict regarding the answer. but instead of growing a fuzzy brain, you simply glared at him, pushing his fingers out from where they had slipped under the top of your bottoms, leaving the man to be a confused mess; it was kinda cute, but for all you knew, his often sublime attitude.

“i didn’t say foreplay parker, only sex was on the table. and that will be all you’re getting, unless you want me to leave you high and dry, and find another resolve to rid myself of your attached escapades of following after me like there’s a wire attached from me to you.”

“fine.” he raised his hands in a motion of surrender, chuckling lightly to himself. “i was just testing my luck, which is clear that i don’t have.” he turned, his brows going up higher on his face as he saw a variety of boxes stacked on one of the shelves. he picked one up, reading over the scripture as you scoffed.

“i don’t think your gonna need xxl, unless you’re going to cum that much since nobody has had their hands on you for a long time. you’ve had to suffice and please yourself for how long again?”

“spicy, i like it. eh, you’re right anyways.” he tossed the box down the aisle, grasping for another like a kid in the candy store, this time it was for the variety of average sized men. kai aggressively ripped the box open, causing the contents of packets to spill all over the ground.

“are you incapable of doing anything like a grown ass man?” it was irritating just watching him fail to do ordinary everyday tasks. he was destructive, and it seemed to be a large part of his personality.

“you won’t be asking that in a minute y/n/n.” he sent you a gruelling wink, making you inherently gulp, watching as he plucked a singular condom off the ground, holding it between his teeth as he began to unbuckle his belt, starting towards you.

“whatever you say kai.” rolling your eyes at his constant cockiness, you pried open your jeans, dropping your panties to the ground, as you caught kai frozen, with a slight swab of drool bathing his bottom lip. “come on, i am waiting, so hurry your ass up before i get bored of doing so.”

“you want this as much as i do, you just won’t admit it.” he lightly sneered towards you, and you felt your body flush with composed embarrassment. perhaps you had thought about the ordeal a little during the time you had been there, but there had to be some excuse! he was the only guy in a worldwide radius, that was a reasonable enough purpose.

when he was rid of apparel on his lower half, he rolled the protection onto his length, as he pinned you completely flush against the shelves of the aisle, one of his hands cupping your ass, before he helped you clamber into his arms, as he held your weight up.

you wrapped your legs expertly around his waist, biting your lip as he ran the tip of his cock against your clit, and then pushed into your walls, his moans reverberating erotically along the column of your throat, as he trailed his lips against your tender flesh.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” he uttered as he began to thrust. it had been a long time since kai had endured any physical contact, let alone like this. the siphon was relishing in it, slipping his cock in and out of your folds as though that was his lifelong purpose.

for the first time in many years, he no longer felt trapped, he had inched into a small paving of freedom, all because he was inherent not to leave you to abandon alone. you too were also caught up in the web of pleasure, you didn’t here two specific sets of footsteps enter the store, searching for the witch that had claimed that he knew of a route out of this subordinate hell.

they had survived the enduring loss of their own freedom, being sucked from the force of a collapsing vacuum into this lonesome reality. the other side had fallen, and so had their jaws, as they saw kai not only having sex, but with you, their lost friend whom had given her life to previously save them from complicated doom.

bonnie felt borderline disgusted as she watched you shut your eyes and try to bounce yourself on the man’s cock, whilst damon was specifically disappointed. your hands rasped around his shoulders, though their grip tightened as your name was called.

as you turned and saw your friends, it all suddenly made sense. from kai’s behaviour, to his lack of inclination to leave you alone, it was clear that he was hiding you from them and vice versa. “bonnie, damon!” you gasped, unsure of how you were supposed to compose yourself throughout this predicament.

“yes, bon bon, damey.” kai mocked with a roll of his eyes, as he remained still to his own dismay. “could you maybe give us five minutes, we kinda weren’t done here. just let us finish, and- ow!” you slapped the side of his face, scrambling to situate yourself out of his menacing grip.

with downturned eyes, you hastily pulled your clothes back up into place, glaring at the siphon. “you knew didn’t you? you knew that these were my friends and you purposely made sure i was distanced from them!” you growled at kai, your eyes fluttering with disregard for the imprisoned magician.

“well if i had, then you’d be less inclined to spend time with me, and this, would never have happened.” his fingers pried at pointing between the pair of you, amusedly he would say, though you would think otherwise. “welcome to 1903 baby! the world of lies and disgrace.”

“you’re the disgrace, you killed your own family, your younger siblings.” bonnie spoke, and her words made you feel physically sick. “get away from him y/n.” you followed her command, rushing over to her and damon, with shock established in your eyes. you had just fucked a sociopath.

“well, i guess that the jig is up.” he shrugged as he conformed his own clothes to be put in place. the fact that you still felt a rouse to finish what you started made you feel disgusted with yourself, though he deserved to rot here. why did the bad guys always have to be so hot? it just was not fair.

[luvyanfei]

anon said. how about fluffy hcs with xiao, zhongli and xingqui taking their s/o out on a first date?

XIAO.

he already finds it difficult just to ask you to hold him without losing his cool, so how can he possibly bring up the idea of inviting you on a date? actually, he probably never knew the word ‘date’ even existed until he heard a passing couple staying over at wangshu inn dreamily talking about how they wish they could go to see the lantern rite festival in liyue harbor together for their first date. a first date, huh? now that he thinks about it, xiao never did properly try to court you, did he? it was always you who approached him first, who held your hand out to him, who confessed that you love him. you’re already giving so much dedication in this relationship. it’s the least he can do to return your affections, not just because he’s feeling a bit indebted, but because he’s your lover. unfortunately, being the awkward yaksha that he is, xiao overthinks the situation and complicates it more than he should.

every chance he gets is blown up by his anxiousness. whenever you come and visit him at the inn, you almost think that he’s angry with you from the way he throws you vicious glares. unbeknownst to you, xiao is actually making that tense face because he’s trying very hard, too hard in fact, to think of the best way to ask you out on a date and seeing you just makes him all the more nervous. he regrets it every time you step into the elevator while giving him a goodbye wave and saying you’ll come visit again. sure, he gets another chance to try and ask you out again, but he also has another chance to fail as well.

when you visit him for lunch, xiao quickly rehearses the words he wants to say to you in the back of his head before coming to greet you. ‘i overheard from a guest in the inn talking about a lantern rite festival. if you mortal, no, [name], desires to go, i can possibly set aside time to accompany you.’ keep it cool, yet short. taking a deep breath to compose himself, xiao walks over to greet you, er, well actually, you’re the one doing the greeting instead, and you settle down to eat. the sweet taste of the almond tofu that you generously bought for him blossoms in his mouth and he loses track of time till your departure. before you leave once more to allow the poor yaksha to wallow in his self-regret again, you stop yourself and turn around to face xiao. tucking your hair behind your ear and giving your best, most radiant smile you can offer to him, you shyly ask if he’d like to tag along with you to the lantern rite festival. “we’ve never been on a date before and i’d love to go to the festival with you and release xiao lanterns together.”

... what? how? his mouth almost opens up in disbelief, as he struggles to keep a stoic expression. ex-excuse him?! that’s supposed to be his line! he’s in shock at how easily you were able to say something that he’s been having trouble sputtering out. you mortals never fail to surprise him. he shakes his head and bitterly scowls, that you almost step back in fright. almost, until he starts speaking, that is. “why is it you? i should have been the one to ask you on a date first, not you!” he’s almost on the brink of tears from the frustration he currently holds on himself. 

a relationship is always about give and take, no? it’s like when zhongli has so kindly decided to save him from the clutches of the cruel abuse he endured endlessly, of course he was forever in debt to rex lapis. surely, it’s the same with you, isn’t it? when xiao tells you this, you immediately start laughing. you calmly explain to him that your relationship isn’t like a form of contract where he’s expected to always repay you back for every gift you give to him. as long as he’s there for you, that’s more than enough of a reward, you say, before plopping a chaste kiss to his cheek.  

“finally, you’re here. what took you so long?” xiao speaks to you with indifference concealing the relief that you actually came. he trails his sharp eyes to inspect your dressed up form and blushes slightly. “you look nice.”

immediately, your eyes widen at his underhanded compliment. did- did you hear that right? biting his lower lip gently, xiao clasps your hand in his, ignoring your astounded reaction, as he squeezes it reassuringly while watching the colourful fireworks light up the murky night.

without thinking, he turns to you when you’re focused on the display of bursting lights reflecting in your eyes, and murmurs to himself softly, “i hope you’ll spend the rest of your time with me, for however long it’ll last.”

XINGQIU.

of course, a date with xingqiu has to be extravagant and sophisticated to the last touch, right? guess again. he may come from a wealthy family, but that doesn’t mean he shares the same interest a selfish, pampered noble may have. he prefers something more simple, yet sentimental. confined in his household with nothing to do but bury his head in a book, he’s picked up some ideas for your date from the romance stories he’s read. surprisingly, they’re all rather cliché.  

the first thing he makes you guys do is go out in the blazing summer day to get yourselves a cool beverage. he explicitly asks the cashier to give him one straw [do they even exist in the game?] and smiles slyly as he thanks them and brings the drinks to you. when you ask about it, thinking that maybe he forgot, all he does is smirk before saying, “there’s no need, my liege. we can share, unless you’d rather melt in the sweltering sun, that is.” he winks teasingly. you... don’t really have much of a choice in the matter. as you stroll around the harbor together, you take turns drinking from the only straw and a wave of consciousness washes over you gradually. wait, isn’t this like an indirect kiss? you place a hand to your gaping mouth after sucking on the straw that xingqiu pressed his lips on merely seconds ago. you should know by now, how bold he is underneath his polite façade. 

after you finish sipping your drink - tediously at that, you both agree on going to the library to read books together since the heat is pretty unbearable to do anything enjoyable. xingqiu recommends you to try reading some of his personal favorites and you do the same as well. he’s thrilled to have a reading buddy now since it’s boring being here by himself. 

while you’re immersed in the novel that you randomly picked from the bookshelf, every now and then, xingqiu will look up from the pages of his book and faintly smile to himself, glad that you’re enjoying yourself.

the sun was setting and the stars started to appear in the pastel pink and orange of the evening sky. you place back the last book and stretch your arms, before turning to xingqiu. sighing, you give him a quick goodbye kiss on the cheek and softly say your farewell.

as you’re about to make your leave for the day, xingqiu halts you with his words, “wait. there’s something i need to do before we can end this date.” nonchalantly, he plucks a book from its shelf, opens its pages, and uses it to block the sunlight drifting through the transparent window glass, effectively shielding his vision from the public eye as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss.

his free hand finds its way combing through the back of your head to deepen the kiss. when he’s satisfied enough, the boy detaches his lips from yours and lightly rubs the flesh of your cheek with a finger, while placing the book down on a nearby table. you keep your eyes fixated on him as he licks the edges of his lips.

“that felt nice,” xingqiu murmurs, “you’re so sweet, i’d hate for anyone else to savor in this pleasant moment with you other than i. shall we continue this again on our next date too?”

ZHONGLI.

the first thing he does is make sure to bring mora, this time. it would be highly inconsiderate of mr. zhongli to have you pay for the expenses of this fine date. he’s one to take things nice and slow. sure, time is unfortunately measured and limited, but he wants to make the most of it with you, a mortal who, just like any other being, has a beginning and end to your life. zhongli wants to shower you in all the beauty and joy this world has to offer while you’re still here with him.

he may be a gentle-spoken and polite individual, but please don’t mistaken him as being shy in any way. he shows up to your residence one afternoon and presents you a bouquet of your preferred flowers while he asks if you would consider accompanying him on a date. you take the bundled up flowers, carefully stroking a petal as if it’s made of fragile glass and accepts his proposal with open arms. 

he takes you out to an expensive restaurant in the night of liyue and helps you select the best dishes. after you’re finished with your lavish and sophisticated meals, zhongli ushers you outside where you’re greeted with fresh air, a contrast to the suffocation you felt back at the restaurant. sure, the place is grand and your hunger is well-satiated, yet despite wearing your best clothing, you felt out of place there, like a commoner surrounded by nobles. 

when you express your earlier discomfort to zhongli, his eyes are filled with shame and he’s already apologizing like the gentleman he is. guiltily, you tell him it’s fine and you ask if you can show him something before you have to head on home. he ponders in thought before agreeing, walking hand in hand with you to your unknown destination. 

the chilling night breeze bites at your bare skin as you instantly shiver. this doesn’t go unnoticed in zhongli’s sharp eyes and he’s already unbuttoning his jacket. he drapes the coat over your shoulder blades and rubs his gloved hands on your cold fingertips to preserve warmth. “are you feeling cold perhaps? maybe we should head back?” you stop him before he can guide you back to the harbor. 

“i’m okay now. thank you for your concern.” you say to ease his poor mind. he nods and you both continue on. the walk uphill takes a while, but it’s worth it when you finally reach the top. your eyes widen in amazement as you witness the glimmering stars splayed across the pitch darkness of the sky. “zhongli, look. do you like it?” he simply nods, but all of his attention is focused on you.

zhongli grins down at your childishly excited face, pausing for a hesitant minute before he carefully places his hands on top of your shoulders. you look up at him in confusion and is about to question him, but any sound that comes out is cut off by his lips ensnaring yours in a kiss. you’re astounded by his intimate move, but you revel in his touch in a matter of seconds. 

he hopes, as he tightens his hold, that you’ll stay with him always, till your last breath. 

tagging. @scarymoosh

[animatedrapture]

RINTOBER: [Greet Me With Goodbye]

suna rintarō x reader

word count: 2k

tags: bandmember!suna, angst, implied cheating, toxic relationship, post-breakup, smoking

song: 505 - arctic monkeys

a/n: PLEASE READ THE FIC WHILE LISTENING TO THIS. thank you mous for beta-reading this for me <3

The lights were near blinding as you stood behind the large crowd, having opted to stay where you can only see enough and be barely seen from the front of the stage where he stood.

 The start of the song is what causes goosebumps against your skin—like it wants to take your breath away, and if you weren’t having trouble breathing before, you definitely were when you heard his voice again—booming and deep as he sang the first verse of the song. Your heart aches when you remember the first time you heard it, nowhere near finished then.

 “I’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck?” You read the lyrics out, intrigued, and you look back up to him. His gaze holds yours with unparalleled tenderness behind the gloss of his eyes. You cock an eyebrow at him with an amused smile.

 “Reminded me a lot about you when we first started trying to figure the lyrics out,” Suna answered with nonchalance, nodding at the paper held between your fingertips as if to tell you to continue reading through it.

 “You’re not wrong,” you commented, humming in thought. “I’d still adore you with your hands around my neck, Rintarou.”

 Suna grins, a glint in his eyes evident. Maybe because he knew, even without you telling him. He knew you adored him to a sinful extent.

 The cheers and audience singing along to the sound of his voice were loud, but the thunderous beating of your heart was louder. So much louder. That’s when you think that maybe you shouldn’t have come here, you shouldn’t have let your friends convince you to stand directly in front of him yet stand so far away as if you were hiding. Well, perhaps you really were hiding; you could definitely step forward, see his face with a thin sheen of sweat, strumming along the guitar that hung around his torso—God, his torso—and his hair slightly covering the pair of eyes you’ve loved so deeply for a long time. His pretty face looked ethereal from where you stood, the beaming lights surrounding the stage accentuating everything that made him who he was, Suna Rintarou.

 Suna’s thumb grazes your lower lip, swiping lightly with his intense gaze locked with yours. It’s hypnotizing like always. Suna’s green eyes—heavily lidded that it made him all the more pretty, all the more breathtaking—set on you as you sat on his lap, the blunt tucked in between the fingers of his other hand emitting smoke that invaded your lungs like he invaded the entirety of your mind.

 You can’t look away, not even when he takes a drag of it directly in front of you—it’s frustrating how oddly seducing it was to watch him, your eyes following the way he inhaled the smoke that was toxic to his lungs like he was toxic to your own heart, poison to your own mind, venom in your bloodstream.

 His lips find yours immediately, his hand that was on your face moving to the inside of your thighs and it’s enough to make you gasp—your lips parting against his as he blows out the smoke to your mouth and you inhale.

 You inhale because it was more like taking him in your system than the smoke that was toxic for your lungs, poison to your mind, venom in your bloodstream.

 You inhale and take him in your system. Yet you never would’ve thought he’d vanish like the same smoke going up in the air until you see it no more.

 “Not shy of a spark, the knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark,” You wish you were imagining it, the heavy drip of pain and contempt laced in his voice as he sang the words out. He sings like it’s flashing all in his head, every fight you both had—because it’s coming back to you too like a ton of bricks.

 Or maybe the sensation of it all coming back to you is more like what the lyrics he sang suggests already, a knife to the chest so deep that there’s simply no way you’d survive from it—no way a relationship could survive from it. The knife to your chest is dug deep enough; how do you live when it’s twisted and turned so sadistically?

 “You’re late again,” you mutter, sighing in exhaustion as you looked back at Suna who sat across from you from the table of the restaurant. It was your date night, scheduled already weeks before—yet he came in late—an hour late to be exact. An hour you spent giving tight lipped smiles to everyone’s gazes who fell on you near the middle of the restaurant as you waited, an hour spent smiling politely as you answered waiters who came near you asking if you’re ready to order.

 An hour spent wondering why this isn’t the first nor second time he left you waiting on nights that should’ve been about the both of you.

 “Look, I’m sorry, yeah?” He quipped, not bothering to even spare you a glance.

 He eyes the menu while your eyes begin to sting as you hold back your tears. You want to burst, to say something—anything. Anything that would take his attention, anything that would finally tell him you can’t keep doing this.

 “You don’t seem sorry, Rin,” you reply silently, gaze steady on his figure still looking through the menu. He finally looks up at you, exasperation fully evident in his features.

 “What’d ya want me to say? I just ran a lil late, alright?” He snapped, the menu falling harshly down the table from his grip.

 “You’ve been running a little late for months now—I’m tired of it,” your voice sounds weak, defeated. This is something you didn’t know was like knife twisted into Suna Rintarou’s heart.

 “If you’re tired, then leave,” his voice was cold to a scalding degree.

 Maybe the mistake was that you didn’t leave that night. That you continued something that you both should’ve tried to end that night—or at least attempted to. You didn’t know this either, but had you attempted to leave, Suna was bound to chase after you and engulf you in his arms.

 But you didn’t.

“I'm going back to 505, if it's a seven-hour flight or a forty-five-minute drive. In my imagination, you're waiting lying on your side, with your hands between your thighs.”

Every beat of the song felt like a kick with the kind of ache you felt against your chest that seemed so constricting. It’s like you’re inhaling the same smoke from his lungs again, choking you with it.

 You’re not sure how it happens, nor does it register in time when bright lights fall just where you stood—not in a dramatic sense like those god-forsaken clichéd romance novels—but simply out of coincidence. Come to think of it, had you stepped forward, you wouldn’t have been there, completely visible in his line of sight when his narrowed eyes zero on you in the crowd so easily as if you were magnet to his gaze, still.

 That could’ve been the case before. But not anymore.

 Not anymore, you ponder. If you hadn’t walked away and pulled from his embrace that day, would things have been different? He’s standing on a bigger stage now; oddly enough, you also heard he’s had more control of his schedule since. It’s been so long since the last time he’s seen you, been so long since he woke up to an empty bed—your warmth gone and your lingering scent on the sheets faint as if you were barely there to begin with.

 Just like that, he wished he could take it all back.

 The sound of Suna’s phone felt nagging and relentless. The more days passed, the more it was louder, the more his eyes remained trained on his phone.

 His fidelity remained unquestioned even as your relationship with him turned disastrously strained from all the hours you’ve spent waiting, all the days you’ve spent without him, all the replies you never received—all your messages left on read like you’re looking at Suna Rintarou, your own boyfriend, through a static screen.

 He continued to fall short and break your heart little by little but knowing he loved you beyond his actions was something you wholeheartedly believed; because his eyes staring back at you remained both tender and fiery like golden balance of true love.

 Yet maybe you were wrong.

 The final straw is the way your eyes follow the string of messages between Suna and another girl you’ve forced yourself to forget the name of. Your gaze lingers and wallow at the provocative pictures of the woman, enough to make you wonder where you lacked—where you came short.

 You wished it was only that which set you apart piece by piece like a puzzle being undone and someone else stealing the pieces of yourself you thought you gave to the man you can trust those pieces with to safe-keep.

 But the blue bubble saying, “Meet me in a few minutes,” on one of the nights he came late—bright blue and blinding enough to make you want to gauge your eyes out—and the following, “I’m here, where are you?” burns in the back of your head like his lit up cigarettes against your skin so fervently.

 That day, little by little, you packed your things in the most discreet of ways; sure, it should’ve probably taken a lot before Suna would have noticed when he’s barely home with you—but you remained scared that he would notice and you wouldn’t say no if he asked you to stay, because that’s how much Suna had you—line, hook, and sinker.

 You take one tentative step back, but your legs feel restrained and paralyzed underneath you when Suna’s eyes lock with yours, meters apart, but you would be lying if you said it’s an illusion when his eyes glimmer the same way—tender and fiery.

 “But I crumble completely when you cry, it seems like once again you’d have to greet me with goodbye,” his voice sounds so much louder, so much heavier—especially with his eyes trained on you as he sang the lyrics out without waver.

 Your heart swells and you think, it’s unfair. It’s unfair that his eyes looked as if he was pleading for you not to go the same way you knew he would’ve had he only known you were leaving him that day.

 Suna was worn-out. Tired beyond effable means or description of words; and he thinks he couldn’t be more exhausted when he rattles on the doorknob of the home you shared with him, the place he came home to with you—only to find it locked. He’s too exhausted to notice the way the house felt emptier, seemed emptier like something—someone was missing when he pushes the key in and enters the place.

 Suna was too exhausted to think you’d be gone forever; too drained to ever consider that it’ll take a year since that day before he sees you again.

 Suna was too exhausted to notice the letter you left on the bedside table; too exhausted to notice you’ve been gone for a week until he comes home again for a break, only for his heart to break at the sight of the empty house. Empty; defined as: without you

 You don’t notice the tears cascading down your cheeks until you see the way Suna’s eyebrows furrowed together from the stage he stood on as he continued to sing, never once taking his eyes off of you, like he’s hurting from the way he watches you cry.

“I'm always just about to go and spoil a surprise, take my hands off of your eyes too soon.” The ring placed as a pendant on the necklace around Suna’s neck glistened under the strobe lights dancing around suddenly felt heavier—so much heavier, as if it’s you who has your hands around his neck.

Maybe you do.

Maybe you do; because Suna runs off of the stage the moment the last beat of his lyrics come as he sees you finally looking away. Your figure slowly dimming away as the lights calm down to the beat of the song slowly dwindling away like you did—but never like the fire that burned in your chest at the sight of him.

You wish you could run but every step you took felt like you had boulders weighing down on your feet; as if no part of you wanted to go—and maybe that’s the miracle that Suna will forever thank whatever deity is out there for, because without it, he wouldn’t be able to find his way back to you as you attempted to drag your body and walk away, trying not to look back.

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