#and he dies at the hands of a person who failed him earlier in life?

[unofficialadamtaurus]

why would you have lost it if ghira killed adam taurus

if the shoddy MLK stand-in kills the shoddy Malcolm X stand-in then maybe, maybe I might find that a bit frustrating

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

The Art of Failing [3]

Werewolf!Joel Miller x F!Reader, Vampire!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Warnings: violence and mild gore, mentions of blood and injures, reader is described as active and able to fight, eventual smut, loss of a child, angst to fluff, more warnings to come based on individual chapters

Chapter Warnings: discussion of child loss, discussion of parent loss, discussion of drunk driving and repercussions of that, mentions of blood and injuries, vampires drinking blood, dubcon setting but no smut, vampires play master/pet and it's hella sketchy, drugs and alcohol, reader is drugged

Word Count: 12.8k

Summary: The Division of Mythological Affairs was created to protect and serve the supernatural community while keeping the knowledge of their existence a secret. You hoped to become an Agent of the DMA like your mother before you. Just as your dream begins to fall apart at the seams, you stumble across a missing persons report that could change everything. You are desperate to solve the case, to prove your ability, and you find yourself with unlikely allies⏤ a werewolf running from his pack and a vampire shunned from his coven. The stakes are high, lives are at risk, and success hinges on the three of you learning to work together.

[a/n: i have no good reason for this being a day late other than who i am as a person. also there's a supernatural reference in here b/c i am unclever lol.]

FIVE MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT

"life went on but it was never the same again." d.j.

The only sound in the room came from the clock hanging on your living room wall as you sat on your couch and stared blankly ahead. After saving you, Din had climbed in your car with you to ensure you got home and the second you were up in your apartment he disappeared saying he was going to track down ‘Tim Brancato’. You weren’t sure the bounty hunter would’ve told you how he planned to do so, even if you had asked, so you left it alone for now. 

Apparently, the adrenaline was officially wearing off and shock was settling in its place. You could’ve died. You probably would have. The eerie smile Miles gave you told you everything you needed to know and the image of his face wouldn’t leave your mind. He was going to kill you, and he had been excited at the prospect. 

You knew being an Agent was a dangerous lifestyle. Hell, you knew better than most⏤ it was how you lost your mother. Your eyes darted to the picture on the wall of the two of you. Even when people weren’t actively trying to hurt an Agent, the work itself was still a risk. Any case had the chance to go south. That’s what they say happened to her. A simple job where everything went wrong. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Your mother had been a hero with huge solved cases under her belt. She had saved countless lives and put her own at risk just as often, but it had been a patrol that took her from you. She stumbled across a smuggling deal gone wrong, in the dead of night, and then never came home that morning.

So, it didn’t surprise you that putting your nose in something this big made you a target, but you felt shaky all the same. 

The silence of your apartment was interrupted by frantic pounding on your door. You startled, eyes wide, but a voice immediately set you at ease. “Hey, it’s me!” Joel called out, muffled by the door. You stood and hurried to open the door, and the second you did Joel pounced. His hands found your face, cradling it carefully, and his dark eyes were scanning you with concern. At his touch, your face began to burn, and there was no telling if it came from your injuries earlier in the day, embarrassment from the doting, or just the feel of his rough, calloused hands against your cheeks. His hands looked huge at baseline, but having them envelope your face made it that much more prominent in your mind. “You alright, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine, Joel. You didn’t have to rush over.” You replied. After the incident, you had texted him that at some point tonight he should swing by so the three of you could figure out this Tim Brancato issue, but for him to be here already he must have sped over. “Din isn’t even back yet from⏤”

“I shouldn’t have let you go alone.” Joel muttered a string of curses. He only released your face then after evaluating a few more times⏤ as if he’d find an injury that wasn’t there the first time he looked you over. “The second you told me you were goin' there, I should’ve⏤”

“There was no way of knowing.”

“We were suspicious though. That fanged metal head told us.”

“We didn’t know for sure yet though.”

Joel crossed his arms and a crease appeared between his eyes where his brows furrowed in disagreement. “I shouldn’t have let you go alone.” He repeated himself. “If the bloodsucker hadn’t been there…”

“Really. I’m fine, Joel.” You set your hand on his arm. His scorching skin under yours sent your heart into overdrive, and you had the urge to rake your fingers through his arm hair. Nima’s phone call with you flashed in your mind, and, before you could do something stupid, you pulled your hand back. “And hey, no mean nicknames when Din get backs.”

Joel scrunched his features in a pout as he shook his head. “Why not?”

“Because.” You reached around him to shut the door and walked back to your living room. “If we’re gonna work together we should at least try to keep the peace.”

Joel trailed after you with a scoff, “Well, what the hell am I supposed to call him then?”

“His name?” You shrugged. “I know that’s probably wild of me to suggest.”

Joel grumbled under his breath and as you slipped into the kitchen you saw him gravitate to stare at the pictures on your wall again. There were a good bit of places you’ve been and people you loved. Plus, staring at the pictures was probably less rude than plopping down on your couch and watching television. Not that you would have a problem if he did, but you certainly would have too much anxiety if the roles were reversed.

“You hungry?” You called out. The fridge and pantry weren’t overflowing with options. Technically, you were past due to go grocery shopping. “I can order us DoorDash or something.” Joel didn’t respond and you stepped out of the kitchen to try and get his attention. “Joel?”

His gaze snapped from a photo to you, “Huh?”

“Food? I was gonna order something while we wait for Din.”

“Oh. Yeah, I could eat.” He nodded. You picked up your phone and began to ask if he had any preferences when he interrupted. “How long until the vampire gets back?”

Well, vampire was way better than bloodsucker. You’d take it. You paused in thought, “I actually don’t know. A couple hours at least? I’m not sure how long it would take a bounty hunter to find any info on this guy.” You scrolled through your phone. “Do you have any food preferences or things you hate? There’s⏤”

“You wanna go out?”

“Huh?” You nearly dropped your phone in surprise and stared back with wide eyes.

“Out. You wanna go out to eat rather than call in?” Joel asked. “There’s a place near here I like.”

“Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah.” You nodded. Joel nodded his head toward your door indicating he expected you to follow. You snatched up your keys and wallet to hurry after him. 

Joel made the decision to drive and you didn’t have a strong enough preference to argue. It only made sense since he knew where the place was. You climbed into his cab and glanced around. The truck was an older pick up that had seen better years, but it was well kept and clean. As Joel reversed out of the parking spot he noticed your gaze.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head. Hanging from the rear view mirror was a homemade bracelet. It consisted of mostly pink and white beads, but there were a few specific beads interrupting the color pattern every three beads. You noticed one shaped like a star, another of a butterfly, and another of a soccer ball. If there were any others they were hidden behind the mirror. You chuckled, “Did Ellie make that?”

Joel’s eyes darted to the bracelet and he stared at it a beat before his eyes snapped back to the road, “No.”

He offered no further clarification and you squirmed in your seat at the sudden tension. You cleared your throat and tried to change the subject, “So what does this place serve?”

Joel seemed eager for the topic change as he spoke up quickly. The place was a simple diner, but Joel swore up and down on their food. A hidden gem of a place apparently. It was about ten minutes from your apartment and located in the parking lot of a strip mall. You had actually seen the place a few times, but had just never paid it any mind. The outside had the classic retro diner look and you chuckled when he led you in and the interior matched the old school diner look. A handful of people were scattered about.

Someone from the kitchen called out a greeting, and Joel raised a hand in return before sitting on a stool at the bar. You took the seat beside him, “You’re a regular, huh?”

“Yeah. Ellie and I come here every other Sunday.” Joel shrugged. “Tradition, I guess you could say. Friend owns the place.”

You hummed in amusement. Austin was a big city and you found it ironic that every other week he had apparently spent in your neck of the woods. You wondered what it would’ve been like to meet Joel before Ellie disappeared. 

“Hey.” A woman spoke up. She stepped out of the swinging kitchen doors and hurried over. Her long hair was a light shade of brown and her face had fallen into concern. “Any news?”

“Not yet.” Joel shook his head. It was clear they were speaking about Ellie and that made sense if him and her spent as much time here as they did. “You haven’t heard anythin' on the street have you, Tess?”

Tess narrowed her eyes at him, “I would’ve called if I had.” She did a double take when she noticed you and tilted her head. “Who’re you?”

You gave her your name with a small smile. “I’m a friend of Joel’s and⏤”

“Joel doesn’t have friends.” Tess responded.

Joel snorted. “Thanks.”

“I’m helping him find Ellie.” You clarified. Tess looked skeptical, as if she was about to mock and/or insult you, so you jumped in. “I work⏤ worked for the DMA.”

“And that’s helpful how?”

“Leave it alone, Tess.” Joel grunted. “You hear of a guy named… what was his name, sweetheart?”

“Tim Brancato.”

Tess’ eyes darted from Joel to you and back again. One of her eyebrows raised in question, and despite her claim that Joel had no friends, she must have known him well as that was all it took for him to understand her. Her hands fell to her hips and Joel scoffed, “Have you heard the name or not?”

“No. I haven’t.” She shook her head. “But I’ll make a call.”

Tess gave you one more glance before heading back to the kitchen. She caught a waitress by the arm and pointed her in your direction before disappearing into the back. The waitress quickly took your orders and brought you your drinks. You leaned your elbows on the counter.

“She seems nice.”

“You don’t gotta lie.”

“No, I mean it!” You shook your head quickly. “Maybe nice wasn’t the right word. She seems like she cares.” The woman reminded you a bit of Nima. Maybe not overall since Nima’s general vibe was ‘bubbly cheerfulness’ and Tess’ was more ‘casual homicide as a hobby’, but they were both protective. “Everybody deserves a friend who will go to war for them.”

Joel paused before giving you a small nod, “Tess and I go way back.”

“Is she a…” You started then paused to see the very human couple sitting only a couple stools down. “You know…” You lifted your hands to act like they were claws and briefly bared your teeth.

Joel’s lips broke out into a brief smile, but you were able to spot a dimple in his cheek, “What’re you doin' with your hands?”

“They’re⏤” You gasped, mock offended. “They’re very clearly claws. Thank you very much.”

Joel’s smile muted again, a moment of wistful, before it fell away. “No. She’s not. She’s human, but she’s involved in our community.” The two of you sat in a comfortable silence between one another. The sounds of the diner filling the air around you. Tess stepped back out and Joel stiffened. “So?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head. “My contacts don’t know the name.” Joel mumbled a curse and you found yourself praying that Din would find something. “Is there anything else I can do?”

“I don’t think so.” Joel dragged his hand over his jaw.

“Well, you know how to reach me if you need something, and I’ll reach out to you if I hear anything different.” Tess replied. He nodded. Her eyes drifted back to you. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Same.” You blurted quickly, not expecting the comment.

Tess left the space once more and you watched the mysterious woman go. She didn’t work for the DMA obviously which made you curious what her ties were in the community. A part of you wanted to ask Joel more details, but you assumed if he hadn’t offered them then he didn’t want to offer them.

Your food arrived a few minutes later and you ate in silence. It wasn’t awkward, but you found yourself glancing his way occasionally. Joel seemed lost in thought as he ate, and you wished you had more to offer him. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to your mother. If she were on this case she’d probably be much further ahead than you were. 

“My daughter made the bracelet.” Your head perked up at the sudden statement. Joel wasn’t looking your way. He stared ahead, picking at his food. “My other daughter. Before Ellie.”

The words and the tone in which he said it told you everything you needed to know and you felt your heart physically break in your chest. “I’m sorry I asked. You don’t have to⏤”

“Don’t apologize. Had no way of knowin'.” Joel shrugged. “She’ll have been gone for seven years in March.” He took a long sip of his water. “Was an accident. Drunk driver sideswiped us on the road and my truck flipped.” Joel rubbed his hands on his jeans and shrugged. “Should’ve been me but it wasn’t. Driver hit us on my side. Made no sense why I⏤” He stopped and sucked in a sharp breath. “Ellie came into my life 'bout a year ago. The six in between were… not good.”

Your chest ached in empathy for this man. Parents should never have to lose a child. You literally could not even imagine the pain that came with that. And, when you thought about the fact that now Ellie was missing… Gods, it would’ve hurt less to have someone gut punch you.

“What… What was her name?” You asked softly then wished you could take it back. “You don’t have to… to answer.”

Joel shook his head. “Sarah. Her name was Sarah. She had just turned twelve.”

Only twelve? You were at a loss for words. Not that it mattered. There were no words that fit as a response. Nothing a person could say that would touch the magnitude of losing a young child. 

“I lost my mom.” Your mouth decided on what to say before your mind could fully agree and the words came out soft and hesitant. “A little over a year ago. It was an accident too.” You wrung your hands together in your lap and tried to ignore the burning of your eyes as tears threatened to spill. This wasn’t something you had really talked to anyone about openly. Not even Nima. People knew, but you just… hadn’t spent much time admitting it out loud. You swallowed and took a slow, calming breath. “I know it’s not the same, and I’m not trying to compare pain, I just…”

Joel shook his head, “Pain is pain.”

You hesitated for a second before reaching out to set a hand on top of his which was now resting on the counter. You gave a light squeeze, “I’m sorry, Joel. I know platitudes hardly help, but I really am sorry.”

Joel finally turned to look at you and the agony in his eyes could’ve knocked the air from your lungs. He slowly turned his hand over so he could squeeze your hand back. As he tightened his grip he sighed, “I’m sorry.” Joel shook his head. “I’m sorry 'bout your mom.”

You gave him a tight lipped smile in response, but it didn’t resolve the heartbreak in his eyes. The two of you eased back into a comfortable silence and it took a moment before you realized you still had his hand in yours. As you began to pull away, the diner door chimed open. It wasn’t a sound you would’ve paid much mind too, but the other people eating in the diner reacted in surprise. Joel’s hands fell from yours as you both turned around and it was Din, in all his Mandalorian glory, standing in the doorway.

“We need to talk.” Din said.

Joel threw cash onto the counter, enough to cover both meals, and dragged you out before you could complain. He shoved Din out into the parking lot. “Are you outta your damned mind? Out in public wearin' that??”

“I’m not usually in the public, but how else was I supposed to get your attention, dog?”

“We were gonna meet at her place!”

“I don’t want to wait. This needs discussing now.”

Joel hurried to his truck. You began to offer Din the front seat considering he was much larger than you in that bulky armor, but Joel grunted. “He can shove his shiny ass into the back. You’re up front, sweetheart.”

You shot Din an awkward smile and heard a string of muttered Mando’a as everyone climbed into the truck. You turned in your seat to face Din, “How’d you know where to find us?”

“I tracked you.”

“Me?” You pointed to yourself. Din nodded and said nothing further on the matter. A trend with this team, apparently. You sighed, “Okay, did you find Brancato?”

Din nodded, “Somewhat.”

“The fuck does somewhat mean?” Joel barked.

“You said he works undercover.” Din said and you nodded to the statement. “It’s with my kind.” You opened your mouth, but Din shook his head. “Not Mandalorians. Vampires. My leads tell me that there’s a high chance he’ll be at Carnal tonight.”

Joel scoffed, “The vampire club?? Why?”

“He’s working undercover to infiltrate a vampire coven.” Din said dryly. “And you’re asking why he’d be at Carnal?”

Joel swiveled his head around to glare at the man and you held your hands up to stop the fight before it began. “Okay. We can work with that. I didn’t know humans were allowed in Carnal. I thought it was a vampire only club.”

“It is.” Din nodded. “But pets are allowed.”

It took a beat for the words to click and your eyes widened. Joel rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath that you missed. Killing to drink humans was very illegal in the city for many obvious reasons. There were different ways vampires could get their hands on DMA approved blood, sold in packs, but if a vampire wanted a way to drink straight from a source the quickest, and most legal way, was a pet.

“Fine.” Joel snapped. “So you go there tonight⏤”

“I can’t go.”

“What??” Joel turned in his seat again and you leaned forward to lightly push his cheek so he was facing the road once more. “What exactly is your plan then? You want me to fuckin' walk in? Because if that’s what it takes I’ll⏤”

You interrupted his rising anger, “Why not, Din?”

“Mandalorians do not keep pets and we don’t frequent clubs that endorse it the way Carnal does.”

“Well then, I guess it’s a good thing you’re not a real fuckin' Mandalorian anymore.”

“Joel!” You snapped. 

Din was stiff but he didn’t respond to the dig. You turned in your seat and tried to think of a working plan. Joel was nearing your apartment by time you settled on the only one you could think of, “I have to go.” Joel stomped on the breaks of his truck, haphazardly parking in a spot in front of your apartment. “Joel⏤”

“You nearly died once today. That wasn’t enough?!”

“We can’t trust anyone else to go in!” You argued. “I think Nima has a few vampire friends. I can ask one to⏤”

Joel shook his head, “Some random bloodsucker that we don’t know. That’s who you want in that hellhole with you?” You sighed and pushed out of the truck. Joel climbed out after you, Din as well, but it was Joel who stomped after you while the armored man followed along. “Please tell me I don’t have to explain why that’s a terrible idea.”

“Then give me a better one, Joel!” You yelled back. You unlocked your front door, held it open, and then pointed inside like a scolding mother. Joel marched past you with a huff and Din quietly entered as well. You weren’t sure how the vampire could be so quiet while wearing the equivalent of pots and pans. You slammed the door behind you and tossed your keys aside. “So far, this is the only lead we got. Roberts said we need to talk to this guy and time is of the essence. The sooner we find him and get the information we need the sooner we get to the kids.”

Joel ran a hand through his hair and his anger was palpable. You knew it stemmed from frustration, but you could see the slight tremble of his body. Muscles quivering as slivers of yellow stained his dark eyes. He was pacing the floor and you hoped that expenditure of activity would keep him from transforming.

“I’ll go.” 

Your head snapped to Din who had spoken. You shook your head, “Din, you won’t exactly fit in at Carnal with the armor. Like I said, I’ll call Nima and see if she can get me in touch with a vampire⏤”

“No. The dog is right.” Din replied and Joel growled at the name. “This is dangerous. You need someone who will be useful if a fight breaks out.”

“She needs to not go at all!”

“If I go, I need a human.” Din argued. “The undercover agent, if there, will be in the back where…” Din hesitated, shifted foot from foot, before finally blurting the words out when he couldn’t think of anything better. “Where a vampire can play with its pet.”

Joel buried his face in his hands, “Jesus fuckin' Christ.”

“I can remove my armor for this.” Your eyes widened in surprise. His helmet turned to you. “Is there somewhere…”

You pointed to the door behind him that led into a small guest bedroom. Din nodded once before disappearing behind it. You stared at the door in surprise. Even though the Mandalorian coven said he was no longer one of them, it was clear from the short time you knew him that it was still an important aspect of himself.

“Sweetheart,” Joel said and you glanced back at him, the anger had melted into just frustration, “This is a bad idea.”

“It’s our only idea, Joel.” You sighed. “If we had something else, trust me I’d go for it. I’m not exactly looking forward to going into a vampire club.” The stories and rumors you heard about those places made your skin crawl. “But this is for the kids. I can do this.” Joel locked his jaw before giving a curt nod. “And Din will be right there to help if need be.”

Joel muttered something again in response to that. You crossed your arms as something dawned on you, “He’s gonna need clothes for the club.” 

Joel shrugged and motioned to himself, “What am I supposed to do? Give him the shirt off my back?”

You rolled your eyes at his snippy comment and told him to behave while you visited your neighbor. Across the hall from you was a young guy you saw in passing. The two of you weren’t exactly friends, but you were friendly. You’d pick up his mail when he was out of town, and he’d make sure no packages got stolen from your front door. He also happened to be around Din’s size and owned more than just flannel⏤ Joel’s staple wardrobe piece.

Your neighbor didn’t seem super psyched to see you knocking on his door a little past nine at night and looked even less pleased when you asked to borrow clothes. However, when you explained it was a bit of an emergency, leaving out the vampire and werewolf dilemma of it all, he begrudgingly offered you a simple suit.

When you returned to the apartment, you found Joel in the living room with his hands on his hips glaring at someone. You did a double take when you noticed Din. He had come out of the room sans armor and only had on the canvas material suit he wore under it. Din’s head turned to glance your way and you hadn’t expected to see such nervous energy in his features. It didn’t match the hard armor you had known him for. Din was handsome. No doubt. Enough so that you thought it a crime he’d been hiding it behind a helmet all these years. Tan skin, dark eyes, and equally as dark hair. As your eyes bounced between Joel and Din you were noticing a trend. Din looked younger with not a single strand of silver decorating his hair, and the messy hair atop his head was shorter than Joel’s. He also didn’t have nearly as much hair covering his jawline either. Just a bit of scruff. Joel looked bigger compared to Din who seemed on the slimmer side. Though it was hard to consider Din to be slim⏤ Joel was just huge.

“Wow.” You chuckled and pointed toward them. “You guys look a lot alike.” Joel and Din’s features both furrowed into different degrees of a glare as they looked back to one another then to you. “Seriously? You don’t see it?”

“Did you get the clothes or not?” Joel grunted.

You stared at them longer, still in awe. Whether they wanted to admit it or not the similarities couldn’t be denied. There was enough about them different that they stood apart from one another in more than just their physical features. Joel was radiating a gruff, grumpy demeanor that was far from approachable while Din currently leaned more toward a stoic nature. They both said your name and you startled.

“Right. Here, Din.” You held out the clothes. “I think they’ll fit.”

“They’re going to have to.” Din replied and the sound of his voice was so smooth without the helmet altering it. “Thank you.”

You gave him a thumbs up, lost for words, and backpedaled, “I should get ready too, I guess.”

Joel grumbled again about the bad idea, but even he seemed to realize there were very little other options. So, bad idea or not. It’s all you guys had.

It was past ten when you parked your car on the side of the road blocks away from where the entrance to the club would be. Din suggested you park at a distance and walk up to it rather than park close. Most of the time it took to get to this point was convincing Joel to go home and wait for the two of you to wrap this up. He wanted to sit on the street which seemed like an exceptionally poor idea. When you finally managed to convince him, it was only after he gave you his address and made you promise to come to his place after rather than your own. You thought a simple text of ‘I’m still living’ would be enough, you even joked so, but Joel didn’t appreciate it.

“So how long have you worn that helmet? Before tonight, I mean.” You asked curiously. As you walked side by side, a foot of distance separating the two of you, you squirmed and straightened your dress. Austin at night, towards the end of the year, had a slight chill in the air that left goosebumps pebbling up on your exposed skin. 

“I took the creed as a child.” Din replied. Vampires couldn’t have children except under very rare and specific circumstances. So Din, like any other Mandalorian, was adopted into the ranks. It was common with their coven which was one of the aspects that made them so unique to other covens. What confused you was taking the creed as a child.

“I thought taking the creed was synonymous to becoming a vampire? Kids don’t get turned though. Not legally, at least, and you wouldn’t look like…” You motioned to frame. Any child turned would never age and never develop.

Din shook his head, “Taking the creed is a separate action. By taking the creed you secure your place within the Mandalorian coven. The turning ceremony does not occur until one receives their first forge made armor.”

“Ah.” You nodded in understanding. “How long has it been since your ceremony?”

“Four years.”

Your feet came to a stop in surprise and Din glanced over his shoulder at you. His eyebrow was raised in question and he too squirmed in the clothes you had borrowed for him. You expected it was less the cold and more so the fit. The black suit jacket and button up shirt fit well enough, a bit tight around his shoulders, but his suit pants were a size too small based on how he kept readjusting himself. You shook your head, “Four years? You’ve only been a vampire for four years?” Din nodded as if still confused at your confusion. You began to walk again and mumbled, “I just expected you to be centuries old or something.”

Din chuckled, “Sorry to disappoint.”

There was a beat of silence before you spoke again, “Is this your first time without your helmet?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” Din said, voice sharp. You twisted your lips and mumbled an apology. Curiosity tended to get the best of you often, and it was kind of interesting to be able to speak to a Mandalorian. You should have remembered the circumstance though and left it alone.

“No.” You were surprised to hear Din’s response. “I’ve taken it off before. That’s why I am considered an Apostate.”

You assumed that referred to his lack of a Mandalorian title and the disdain the coven leader had spoken about him in. Despite that stripping of the title, you still mentally considered him Mandalorian. Though you knew that kind of statement might not sit right with him. 

“Can I ask…” You hesitated since he had already scolded you for asking questions, but then he had enabled you by answering. “Why did you take it off before?”

“For my son. For Grogu.”

Your lips curled up into a smile. “I see. You know, I actually don’t know much of anything about your son. I never got to actually read the full report. How old is he?”

“He…” Din paused. “He looks to be five.” You narrowed your eyes in thought of the very specific word choice he used. He continued, “As I said before, he has vampiric tendencies, but I don’t actually know his genetic lineage. He was… Our paths crossed when I was hunting a bounty eight months ago.”

A silence settled between the two of you again and you assumed that meant he wasn’t going to delve into the details of said bounty. You gripped the strap of your purse a bit tighter and shrugged, “You know, I don’t think it should count as breaking the creed if you’re taking the helmet off for a good reason. Like for your son.”

“The coven wouldn’t agree with you.” Din replied then after a paused added, “But thank you.”

After a few blocks, Din grasped your wrist and carefully tugged you to a stop.

“We can’t go in yet.” 

“Why not?”

“You smell like a dog.”

You blinked in shock then held a hand to your chest mockingly, “Well, gee golly, Din. You sure know how to sweet talk a woman.”

“It’s your riduur. He’s ruining your scent.”

“That’s the second time someone has commented on ruining my scent.” You grumbled, but the first half of his statement registered in your mind a second late. “Riduur??”

Din nodded, “Your mate.”

“No. I know what a Riduur is.” You shook your head. “I meant, Joel is not mine. He’s not my mate.”

The Mandalorian’s eyes narrowed at you as if he were trying to puzzle out a lie and you raised your eyebrows at him in question. Din cleared his throat, “I was told by the coven that you claimed he was your riduur.” 

“Oh!” You waved your hand. “I did, but that was only because I didn’t want them to kill him.” Din held your gaze and you shrugged. “I knew the bond between Riduur is not one taken lightly and I prayed it’d be enough to get both of us out alive.” Surprise flitted across Din’s features. You shifted nervously in place. “Guess I got lucky. Or⏤ Or Joel did, I should say.”

Din shook his head and you thought the vampire looked impressed. “Not luck. Quick thinking. That was clever.”

“I have my moments.” You chuckled awkwardly⏤ unsure how else to accept the praise from him.

“Still,” Din glanced around, “The point remains. You reek of Joel Miller. May I⏤” He cleared his throat. “May I scent you?”

You mouthed the word in slight confusion. Logically it made sense. Walking into a vampire exclusive bar smelling like a werewolf was probably not ideal. You just weren't sure what that entailed. “Um, sure?” Din stepped closer and you felt your heart do a somersault. Nervous. You were nervous. An apex predator was close enough to easily rip your throat out, not that you thought Din would, but your body was naturally reacting to that. That was all. “What⏤How⏤ Scent.”

Din stared down at you, close enough you had to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact, and you mentally cursed your inability to form a coherent sentence. Din’s lips began to curl up into a smile until he suddenly steeled his features with a small shake of his head. “The quickest way to correct your scent is if I put my lips on you.”

“Put your lips on… Oh.”

Din paused and when you didn’t reply he gave a small nod. He coughed, “So, is that alright?”

“Hmm?” You blurted. He was waiting for permission. “Yes. Sure. Okay.”

“Stay still. I give you my word, I mean you no harm.”

You began to open your mouth to reply when Din ducked down to the crook of your neck. His hot breath fanned against your skin and you felt yourself stiffen in response. You heard him take a deep breath. “Gar klesir jatisyc.” Din mumbled the words close enough that his lips brushed against your skin. A chill went down your spine. He stayed there a moment more and you softly spoke his name. Din seemed to startle and he mumbled again, “Ni ceta.”

His lips warmly pressed to the side of your throat, lingering there, and then he turned your head to do the same to the other. When he pulled back, your face felt like it was burning. Din cradled your left wrist to set a kiss there as well, and you felt the tip of his tongue drag against your skin. You gasped, but Din didn’t seem phased. He did the same to your right wrist. Before he released your wrist, he dragged a finger across the healing cuts on your palm. You had used one of your emergency healing salves rather than just the routine human store bought stuff⏤ both on the burns on your face and your hands. 

“I’m sorry.” Din mumbled. “I didn’t mean for you to get injured. I shouldn’t have…” He lifted his gaze and they fell on your neck. There was no bruise there from his hand but he stared as if there were. “I am sorry.”

“It’s okay, Din.” You shrugged.

He didn’t seem to agree, but he dropped your wrist and took a large step back. “That’s better. Nobody should be able to smell Joel unless they get close, and I don’t plan on letting any other vampire get that close.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded quickly. “I⏤ I do like that plan.”

Din let out a soft chuckle and motioned toward the sidewalk. Out of the corner of your eyes, you watched him. Stoic would’ve been the perfect word to describe, hell you had thought it not that long ago, but looking at him now you weren’t quite sure it fit. Din was shockingly easy to read. You could see nervousness in his brow, worry in his eyes, tension drawn along his features, and the downward curl of his lips conveyed anxiety. The thought lingered in your mind for a beat until it dawned on you why.

His helmet.

If Din had worn that helmet since he was a child he never had to worry about concealing his emotions. The metal did it for him. Your lips parted to comment on it, ask a question, when Din suddenly reached out toward you.

“We’re close.” He said. “Can I touch you?”

“Sure.” You nodded. Din’s arm wrapped over your shoulder so he could pull you into his side as you walked. Instinctively, you wrapped your own arms around his torso. The permission of touch had kind of been implied when you agreed to this plan together, but you found it cute that he still asked explicitly. “When we’re inside, it’s… it’s okay to touch me how you need to. I heard rumors about these kind of places, and I⏤ I trust you.”

Din furrowed his brow. Again, all his emotions of confusion and surprise drawn on his face. “You do?”

“Yeah. We’re a team, remember?” You chuckled.

“Right.” Din mumbled and focused his attention ahead. 

Being that you were already close, and getting closer with each step, you chose to keep your mouth shut and let Din lead. The alley he took you down was the exact kind you would avoid as a woman at night, but with Din wrapped around you there was little room for fear. At the end of the alley was a set of stairs that led down to a door that seemed would open into a basement. 

Curiosity rose up in you, that same eagerness for knowledge hungry for more, and you watched as Din lifted his thumb to his mouth to bite down at the tip. Black blood welled up there and he smeared it on the silver doorknob. It glowed briefly and Din was able to push it open.

“Cool.” You breathed without even realizing it. Din glanced your way and you realized you had spoken the excitement aloud and the back of your neck burned. 

The hall was nearly pitch black, but Din seemed to have no trouble navigating it. You were led down another set of spiraling stairs this time and as you got deeper into the Earth the sound of a booming bass began to vibrate around the two of you. You took in a slow breath to try and steady your nerves. Din squeezed your shoulders in comfort. It emptied out into a hall basked in red and the two of you were no longer alone. 

Eyes, glowing silver like an animal under the red lights, turned to stare. You could barely hear yourself think with the blasting music and the pounding of your heart in your ears as hungry eyes found you. Din tightened his grip on you again. You glanced up at him and your eyes widened at the silver glow of his own eyes⏤ narrowed into a glare that he aimed at the surrounding vampires. One of the others, a male dressed in a maroon suit that seemed brighter in this hall, stepped in front of the two of you. A low growl rumbled deep in Din’s throat as his teeth clenched together threateningly. 

“Calm down, buddy.” The man chuckled. “I mean your pet no harm.” He dragged his eyes over your body. It wasn’t the first time a creepy man looked at you in a way that made you feel like a meal, but this was the first time it was happening literally. “Just the two of you?” Din gave a curt nod. “And business?”

Din huffed. He turned to face you, pressing his face to the side of yours, and took in a deep breath that made you shudder. Din’s deep, hoarse voice let the next word roll off his tongue, as the hand from the arm wrapped around you found your hair and tugged it just enough to tilt your chin up and reveal your throat. “Pleasure.”

You swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, and the other vampire chuckled. “Go ahead. Enjoy.”

He stepped out of the way allowing you and Din to enter the club. It was one large room with various stages and levels. The entire space was dimly lit and certain areas had thick red curtains closing it off from public view. Directly in front of you was a dance floor. The throngs of people congested like a mob undulated with the best. Beyond it, on a stage, was a long and busy bar.

“You’re safe.” Din whispered the words in your ear, a chill shimmering down your spine, before he led your forwards. 

Din stayed focused on where you stepped and you were eternally grateful for that considering you were too distracted to pay attention yourself. Din curved around the dance floor, understandably so, but it forced the two of you to walk past lines of booths that encircled the space. A few booths looked no different than one you would sit in with Nima, drinking and chatting, but a few starkly different. One booth had a scantily clad woman laid mostly bare on the table as three or four vampires drank from her. A clear reminder that this was not your usual bar. The vampire drinking from the woman’s neck lifted her eyes to meet yours and you couldn’t help but curl tighter into Din’s side.

The bar was obviously the goal location and you were relieved when you finally reached it just because it was less intimidating than the rest of the club. The bartop itself was lit up bright white which made it possibly the most well lit area of the club. Din carefully maneuvered you onto a stool, but he didn’t sit himself. He stayed pressed against your side with one hand leaning on the bar and the other on your waist. It was a dominant stance. Protective. 

“What can I get you?” The vampire working the bar asked. Her eyes were reflecting the glow of the bartop and it gave the dark skinned woman an ethereal look. 

You opened your mouth to order, but Din squeezed your waist firmly. He nodded, “A shimmer.”

The bartender nodded and you raised an eyebrow in question. Din offered no further clarification. Instead, he pressed his lips to your ear. “We need to go to the back”

“Right. The pet zone.” You whispered.

“I suppose that’s one name for it.” No part of Din scared or worried you, but the words still managed to make you blanch in discomfort. You glanced back at the woman laid out on a table top, but Din shook his head. “She’s not a pet. Club owns her.”

You had ten thousand questions to ask, but were too worried to let a single one out. The bartender came back with a tall, slender glass. The liquid inside looked like the night sky. Black with silver glitter swirling inside of it. Din pushed the glass into your hands and paid for it. You lifted the glass to smell it and the aroma wasn’t something you could pinpoint exactly, but it made you think of the hot summer days where your mother would take you down to Barton Springs to cool off. Sunscreen lotion, sweet popsicles, and the carefree laughter shared between the two of you. A dizzying smile crossed your lips.

“Don’t drink it.” Din murmured into your ear as he helped you off the stool. “Just hold it.”

He began to walk you down the length of the bar. The further you pulled the drink from your face the more clear headed you felt. You stared into the swirling silver. “What is this?”

“Shimmer.” He repeated the name. “It’s used on pets. It’ll sweeten your blood.”

“Just smelling it made me feel like my head was in a cloud.” You mumbled. “And it smelled like…”

“Like a memory.” Din nodded. “A happy one.” The two of you reached a back corner where velvet curtains covered a doorway and a gruff man in a clean suit stood guard. “Adjustments make it easier to control a pet. You’ll notice everyone back here is probably on it.”

You had never heard of anything like this before and as Din led you closer to the guard you wondered how legal this stuff was. The guard studied the two of you for a minute, inhaling a deep breath that made you nervous. What if he caught a whiff of Joel on you? The anxiety was short lived though as he pulled the velvet curtain aside. 

The back room was even smaller⏤ cozier. There were booths with privacy curtains and another, smaller, bar in the back. Each booth had a curtain for the option of privacy, but not everyone used them. A young woman drifted over to speak to Din and as he responded your attention was pulled away by a fearful whimper. 

In one of the closest booths, there was a woman, close to your age, sitting on the lap of a vampire who physically looked significantly older than her. Her back was pressed to his chest as his teeth sunk into the crook of her neck. Tears streaked down her face as she whimpered. Her eyes were blown wide in terror as she stared at nothing⏤ just zoned out. You mumbled Din’s name in panic. You were under the impression the official vampire and pet relationship was consensual but this did not look the sort. The glass sitting on the table in front of them looked like yours, but it was nearly empty and rather than silver it had a purple shine to it. 

“She’s okay. I promise. She’s fine.” Din murmured and pulled you away. The woman he had been speaking to was leading you both to an empty booth.

All the booths looked uniform. Circular in shape, a low table in the middle, seats made of dark leather, and a red velvet curtain hanging from the ceiling to be used if needed.

"Keep the curtain closed if you're gonna fuck." The woman leading you said offhandedly. Din sat down and you were caught off guard when he pulled you to straddle his lap. A precarious position due to the short length of your dress. He waved a hand and the woman huffed before drawing the curtains herself. When they closed entirely a glowing sphere of light activated high above the two of you to offer light.

Din quickly readjusted to move you off his lap and he cupped your face to examine your features, “Are you alright?”

“I am. That girl⏤”

“Shiver.”

“What?”

Din took the cup from your hand to set on the table. “Yours is Shimmer. A happy memory. There are… other adjustments based on what they want to do to the blood’s flavoring.” You furrowed your brow in surprise. “Shimmer. Shiver. Simmer. Smolder.” He shrugged. “Those are the ones I can think of. I know there are more.” 

“Each one makes the blood taste different and they…” You thought back to how terrified the woman looked. “They evoke different memories.” He nodded. “So if Simmer is a happy memory…”

“Shiver is a memory of fear.”

You couldn’t imagine someone agreeing to relive a memory of nightmares just because a vampire had a taste for fear in the blood. Then again, up until now, you had never imagined agreeing to be a vampire’s pet. The wording of that thought gave you pause and you glanced away from the glass in your hands to Din’s face. He was watching you with concern and curiosity. You weren’t imagining being his pet. Not really. Not seriously at least. Not that you minded the idea of Din and his lips and teeth and tongue… Well, that wasn’t⏤ You weren’t⏤ It was⏤

“Jate’ika? Are you okay?”

“Just⏤ My brain is just, uh, nevermind.” You set the glass down on the table and pushed it further away from you. Were the fumes still invading your senses? What the hell? You cleared your throat. “Brancato. We gotta find him.”

Din nodded in agreement. “The sooner the better.” He stood up. “Stay here in the booth. I’ll be back.”

“You want to separate? In this vampire club??”

“The room is small. I can get back to you with ease if need be.” Din shook his head. “And I won’t be long. I just want to see if I can find the Agent.”

You twisted your lips but gave a quick nod. Din squeezed your hand and then slipped out of the curtain. You squirmed in your seat and smoothed out your dress nervously. You wished you had your gun. It would do nothing against a vampire, other than mildly annoy or irritate them, but you wanted the comfort of it on you all the same. A few moments passed before the curtains slid open and you were surprised by how quick he had been.

“Din⏤”

Din did not step in.

A different man burst through in a rush, but he was human like you. There was no animalistic glow to his eyes. He wore a navy sports blazer over a tight, gray v-neck with matching khaki dress pants. Around his neck was a leather collar that you’d find at a pet store. The man had a boyish look to him with messy, dirty blond hair and a clean shaven jaw. Freckles were brushed over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. Oddly though, his gray blue eyes looked genuinely irritated with you.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” He demanded in a hushed voice. He took a seat by you and set the drink in his hand next to yours. The lighting in this booth made the color hard to distinguish in the black liquid. “Are you out of your godsdamned mind showing up in this place??”

You lifted a hand to point at him with wide eyes, “Tim Brancato.”

“Shh!” He shushed you. “Call me Justin.”

“How do you know⏤”

“Roberts warned me you’d be looking for me, but he didn’t tell me you’d be stupid enough to show up here.” Tim scoffed. 

You were still curious as to how he recognized you so easily, but you had more important questions to ask and for some reason you were struggling to get a single one out. “Sorry. I’m glad we found you though, or⏤ or you found us, I should say.”

Time narrowed his eyes at you for a beat then shook his head, “Who are you here with?”

“My vampire.” You held a hand to your chest. “He’s a Mandalorian.”

“A Mandalorian came in⏤”

“Well, he’s not in armor right now. He’s⏤”

“Then he’s not a Mandalorian.”

“It’s⏤” You tilted your head with a wince, “It’s sort of a long story and we don’t have a lot of time⏤” His hands suddenly grabbed your face and you tensed. “Dude, what the fuck?”

Tim scoffed and let go, “You’re high.”

“No, I’m not.” You shook your head, though your head did feel a bit swimmy, “I didn’t drink the⏤ the shimmer.”

“Are you wearing a plug?” Tim demanded. You opened your mouth then froze⏤ eyes narrowing in confusion. There was a very solid chance that the plug he was asking about was not the kind you now had in mind. The back of your neck burned as you struggled to answer. He shook his head and reached into his coat pocket. “Lean your head back.” Without hesitation, you leaned your head back and as you stared up at the glowing light above you realized that maybe you shouldn’t be following the commands of someone you didn’t actually know. He grabbed the side of your face once more and held a dropper over your nose. Each drop he released into your nostrils felt thick and tacky and as it rolled deeper to coat your sinuses and reach the back of your throat, it gave the sensation of choking. “There.”

You straightened your head and began to cough, “What was⏤”

“They aerosolized an adjustment back here. Not enough to evoke a memory, but enough to impair judgment.” Tim responded. “That won’t get what’s in your system out completely, but it'll let it wear off while keeping you from getting any worse.”

“Oh, thanks.” You rubbed your nose in discomfort. “Putting that stuff in the air seems… questionable.”

Tim scoffed, “Look, some of the folks I see run through here have a healthy, consensual pet relationship, but I also see a lot of blurred lines as well. Just keep your guard up while you’re here, alright?” He shook his head. “Now, Roberts didn’t tell me why you were looking for me.” You nodded in confirmation and he lifted an eyebrow. “So?”

“Oh, uh, right.” You tried to collect your thoughts so you could pull them together. Tim rolled his eyes at you, and you felt a flare of irritation. You scoffed, “Hey, just give me a second here, my brain is filled with vampire fog right now.” Tim shrugged and continued to wait. You huffed, “The kids. The missing kids. All over Austin⏤ We’ve had a huge string of mixed kids disappearing, and the DMA isn’t investigating. Hell, they’re ignoring it! I confronted Roberts and he said he couldn’t help, but to find you because you can.”

Tim nodded his head slowly, humming in thought, then shook his head, “Can’t help.”

“Excuse me!?” You cried. The curtain was snapped open and you jumped in place until your eyes landed on Din. The Mandalorian tensed with a glare leveled at Tim, but you felt yourself relax marginally just having him near. You motioned to the man sitting beside you, “It’s him.” Din nodded, saying nothing further, and you focused back on Tim. “Now, what the hell do you mean you can’t help?”

“Roberts never said he was sending you to me for this.” Tim scoffed. “I’m not interested in helping.” Din stepped forward, arms crossed, and the glare he leveled at the undercover agent was deadly. Tim scoffed, but you did see the stiffening of his spine, “You gonna sick your big, bad vampire on me?”

“No. But I’ll tell your vampire that your name isn’t really Justin.” You threatened.

Tim’s eyes narrowed briefly, but a slow smirk crossed his features, “You wouldn’t do that. It’s a death sentence for me and I can tell you’re not the kind to ruin a man’s life.”

Unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong. You wanted to be. For the sake of Ellie and Grogu and every other kid taken from their parents, you wished you could. There was a lump in your throat keeping the words trapped in your chest and Tim saw it clear as day. 

Din hummed, “She’s too good of a person to kill you, but I’m not.” The Mandalorian grabbed Tim by the lapels of his jacket and yanked him off the booth. Tim grabbed the vampire’s hands, but he was no match for Din’s strength. “You’re gonna talk, and you better hope we like what you have to say. Otherwise, it’s not the other vampires you’re gonna have to worry about, human.”

“Just give it up. It’s over now.” Tim hissed. “The kids missing are gone, but it’ll be years before more get taken.”

Din snarled as you stood up with wide eyes, “What does that mean??”

Tim didn’t get a chance to answer. The curtains swung open to reveal two beefy men dressed like the vampire guarding the entrance to this back room. Security. Din didn’t release the agent, but both men froze in surprise. 

“There’s been a noise complaint. What is the meaning of this??” One demanded.

Tim didn’t respond, mouth agape, and Din remained silent as well. His hands tightened in their grip on the man’s lapels. Your eyes darted between them both a second more before rushing forward. You stepped under Din’s arm, forcing him to drop his grip on Tim, and laid your own hands on his chest. With a frown and a shake of your head, you let the nervous energy you felt slip into your tone. “He just came in and wouldn’t leave me alone.” 

Instinctively or not, Din wrapped his arms around you and shifted so his body blocked you from Tim and the two security guards. Tim narrowed his eyes at you, jaw locking, but he wasn’t in the position to deny it. His only other excuse would be he was talking about the DMA. One of the security guards grabbed him by the upper arm, “Who do you belong to?”

“Ranzar Malk.” Tim sighed.

The two guards grunted before dragging Tim away from your booth. Din’s hands tightened around you as he whispered, “Jate’ika, are you alright?”

“No, I’m annoyed.” You mumbled. “That got us nowhere, Din.”

“I think we should leave.”

“Absolutely not.” You shook your head. “We need to find out what he meant.”

“He’s a pet to Ranzar.” Din said firmly and began to tug you out. “We can’t stay.”

You were trying to puzzle out the significance of that. It wasn’t a big enough name that it stood out to you, but you weren’t overly familiar with the vampire circles. You allowed Din to tug you forward, but one of the guards from before slid into your path.

“Ran would like to see you.”

Din cursed then shook his head, “We’re not interested.”

“It wasn’t a request, newcomer.” The guard grunted. 

He turned to lead, and Din pulled you tight into his side then followed. This would give you the opportunity to address Tim again, though it’d be difficult in front of the vampire Tim was serving. Maybe if Din could distract this Ran then you could do something? 

The booth the two of you were led to was much larger than the one you and Din shared. Oval in shape with three small, circular tables in front of it to hold drinks. You spotted multiple vampires lounging in the booth with their humans surrounding them. You tried to avoid making direct eye contact with the ones being actively bitten. The sight of it just seemed to make your skin crawl. At what you would consider the head of the booth sat a heavy set man. He leaned back with one arm resting on the back of the booth. Thick, wavy gray hair went past his shoulders to match the thick beard he sported, and the color also matched the animalistic glimmer to his eyes. Tucked against his side, under the arm outstretched, was a human woman. She wore a tight, pink dress with a draped collar held around her neck with a gold chain. Her blonde hair, so light it looked white under the lights, was stick straight down her back and the freckles across the bridge of her nose were also decorated with glitter she had painted across it. On his other side, kneeling on the ground by the man’s boot like a dog was Tim.

“Oh, you’re a cute thing.” The vampire, Ran you were assuming, cooed at you. “No wonder my pet couldn’t leave you alone.” Ran’s eyes dragged up and down your figure slowly. You leaned against Din just as he tightened his hold on you. “Don’t worry, pretty girl, I mean you no harm. Just wanted to apologize to your master.” Ran’s eyes snapped to Din and his lips stretched out into a grin. “I train my pets to behave better than Justin did tonight. Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to bother your little toy.”

Din gave a tight nod. There was actual anger in the set to Din’s brow, an emotion you didn’t fully understand, and the tension in his frame was obvious. He was holding you so tight that it was beginning to become uncomfortable.

“My name is Ranzar Malk, but you can call me Ran.” He chuckled. “You’re new here, aren’t you?” Din didn’t respond and you squirmed uncomfortably. “What is it? You have a problem with me? I’ve already apologized for my pet’s behavior. Don’t be a dick. We’re all friends here.”

When Din still didn’t respond, you nervously chimed up, “We’re just passing through⏤”

“He wasn’t speaking to you, blood bag.” A woman hissed. Her black hair was tied off into two high pigtails that would look silly on any other person, but the cruel grin on her face somehow made it look terrifying. She pushed to stand and drifted closer as if to grab you, “Hasn’t anybody taught you your place⏤”

“Don’t fucking touch her.” Din snarled and pulled you back so you were hidden behind him.

The woman hissed at him in anger, but Ran waved his hand, “Xi’an! Sit your ass down.” She glared at Din but finally dropped back into her seat roughly yanking a petite brown skinned woman onto her lap to drink from. Ran shook his head, “I know your voice. Why do I know your voice?” Din stayed silent and now kept you behind him, entirely hidden from the man. A low chuckle filled the air, “Wait a minute, wait a minute. No way. Mando?? Is that you??”

“Holy shit.” A different vampire off to the side, a man with a shaved head, pulled his fangs out of a woman’s wrist to chime in. “Nuh uh.”

“It is. That’s fucking Mando.” Ran laughed. “You’re dressed down tonight, friend.”

“I’m not your friend.” Din snapped.

“This is rich.” The man with the shaved head, mouth painted red with blood, chuckled. “Where’d that shiny armor go, metal man?”

“Come on. Sit. I insist.” Ran motioned to the spot beside him. “For old times’ sake.”

Din hesitated and you squeezed his arm once in encouragement. You didn’t know the history here, and you hated that these people that Din clearly did not care for were seeing his face, but neither of you could leave without more information from Tim. Otherwise this was a waste. He’d have taken his helmet off for nothing. Finally, Din stepped forward to sit down in the seat offered to him. He tugged you into the seat on his side away from Ran and Xi’an and closer to the other man. Apparently he was the lesser of the three evils.

“I didn’t think Mandalorians kept pets.” Ran teased. “Thought it was beneath your kind.”

“Well, can’t you see, Ran?” Xi’an lifted her lips from the woman on her lap’s neck. “He’s not a Mandalorian anymore apparently.” Din stiffened again. “Pretty boy seems possessive over the girl. Is that why you gave up the tin can helmet?”

Ran chuckled, “For him to give up that precious creed, her blood has gotta be something special.” He motioned toward you and spoke as if you weren’t even there. “You fucking her too, Mando?”

Xi’an scoffed with a mocking sneer, “Ran, can’t you remember? Mando don’t like pussy.”

“The way I remember it, it’s just your pussy he don’t like, Xi’an.” The man beside you laughed. Xi’an bared her fangs and snarled at him. Ran laughed along with the man who spoke and you hated every second of this. Din was trying to keep his face straight, but the hatred in his eyes was clear and just being here in this group made you uncomfortable for him. 

Ran hummed, his gaze on you again, “You know, after all the jobs I kicked your way, Mando, I feel like you kind of owe me.”

“No.” Din spat the single word out in a dangerous, dark tone. 

“You don’t even know what I was gonna suggest!” Ran chuckled.

“I know enough about you to guess.” Din snarled. Even as someone who didn’t know the vampire, you could read a room enough that his tone made you blanch in disgust. Your eyes darted to Tim who you found was already staring at you. His eyes darted down to his hand then back up to you. A pointed look. You glanced down and he opened his palm just enough for you to see a single stick, small syringe of something dark red. Dead man’s blood? It looked like the vampire sedatives made at the DMA. When you met Tim’s gaze again they darted to Ran.

A terrible, terrible, terrible idea came to mind. You lifted your head up to press your lips to Din's ear and murmured quiet enough that only he’d hear. “Suggest a trade. Me for Tim.” Din didn’t want to turn his head to you, but the grip he suddenly had on your thigh was enough to show his distaste. You sighed. “Trust me?”

“What’s the little lady whispering about?” Ran teased.

Din didn’t immediately answer. You didn’t think vampires could be nauseous, but that was the best way to describe the brief look that crossed Din’s face. Finally, he spoke in a tense tone. “I’ll trade.”

“No shit?” Ran guffawed. “Alright. You want little Alana here?” The girl leaning against Ran offered Din a small wave, a quirk to her lips making it clear she enjoyed her position here to some degree. “She’s a fun one.”

Din shook his head, “Him. I want him.”

“Justin?” Ran asked. Din nodded. “Hell, alright. That’s not usually what I use this one for, but he’s getting punished tonight regardless.” Ran grabbed Tim by the hair and pulled his head back with a glare. “He’ll behave real good for you since I know he doesn’t wanna piss me off more.”

Ran shoved Tim away and he rose to his feet. You stood as well to shimmy past the tables and in passing you felt him discreetly push the vial into your hand. Din stood behind you, his hands on your waist, and Ran shouted a biting comment to the other two vampires before motioning for you and Din to follow along. Din’s fingers dug into your skin as you got closer to some smaller, more private booths, and you had a feeling he was tempted to grab you and run. 

Ran stopped and pointed to a booth to the left, “All yours, Mando.” The large vampire reached out to you with a sickening grin and when you tried to step toward him Din wouldn’t let go. You shot him a glance over your shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll take real good care of her. You just enjoy your time with mine, yeah?”

Din finally released you and you took in a shaky breath before stepping closer to Ran. He set a hand on your lower back before ushering you into the booth across from the one he offered Din. The moment you were in, he tugged the curtain closed. With Din out of sight, your anxiety began to rise to new highs. Ran hummed and sat down on the booth with a grunt. He eyed you hungrily, “Mando certainly has good taste. You smell sweet, honey.” Ran gave his thigh a pat and you bit back a wave of disgust. “Come to daddy.”

You set your purse down and crossed the space to him. This was for the kids. This was for Joel and Din. This was for a cause bigger than you. Steeling yourself, you carefully straddled his lap and his bare hands grasped the back of your thighs to drag up and grope your ass. Bile tried to claw up your throat as a wave of nausea overtook you. It took all your power to not gag and flinch at his touch.

“You look so nervous, honey.” Ran cooed. You forced a tight lipped smile then leaned forward to rest your arms on his shoulders. He squeezed your ass again, “Now, that’s better.”

Ran buried his face where your shoulder met your neck and inhaled deeply. A groan slipped from his lips and you felt his tongue drag up your skin to right under your jaw. He leaned in closer and you wrapped your arms around him tighter⏤ adjusting the syringe in your hand accordingly. When you felt a sharp fang nick at your skin, you buried the needle into the flesh at the back of his neck. Ran shoved you back furiously and you only barely caught yourself before falling to the ground.

“You bitch⏤” Ran muttered, but his eyes were already fluttering. His head collapsed back against the booth as his entire body sagged into the seat. 

It was only then that you realized you were panting. There was a tremble in your hands that you tried to shake away as you straightened your posture. Disgusted, you rubbed at your neck desperately trying to rub away his saliva and touch.

Quickly, you grabbed your purse and ducked out of the curtain. Nobody seemed to notice when you took the few steps to slip through the curtains of the booth across from you. You had only barely stepped in when familiar hands grabbed you.

“Told you she’d figure it out.” Tim hummed from where he sat on the booth casually.

Din rubbed your arms and shook his head, “Did he hurt you?” His hand lifted to your neck and his eyes widened when you felt his thumb brush against a tender spot. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine, really.” It felt like you had said that a lot today for a lot of very absurd situations.

“That was a shit idea. I never should’ve let you do that.” Din scoffed.

“To be fair, I knew it was a terrible idea.” You gave him an awkward smile. “But it worked.”

Din sighed and looked like he was prepared to argue with you on that opinion. You stepped past him to sit beside Tim. Din joined you and you were caught off guard when he settled his hand around the back of your neck⏤ cradling it softly. The weight and warmth were oddly a comfort that helped distract from the unwelcome touch you were still trying to forget.

“Alright, talk.” You snapped. “What did you mean by what you said earlier?”

Tim heaved a sigh but crossed his legs and nodded, “This isn’t a new problem. Since the DMA was established, this has been occurring.” You opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “It’s usually every decade or so, but in the past it was done with more precision. Only a few kids were taken and their disappearances separated with enough time to avoid suspicion. Taken from different locations too.”

“Taken for what and by who?!” You demanded.

“How much do you know about the people who established the DMA?”

“It was the Weston family and they worked with the Olympians to create an agency that would benefit the supernatural world.” You replied. “They were the original founders.”

Tim nodded, “That’s the who.”

“The… The Weston family?” You shook your head. “Seriously?” Tim nodded again. There were portraits on the wall painted in the honor of the original members of the DMA in the lobby of the building. That’s the connection Miles Jackson had relation wise. He was the great grandson to one of the Weston members still on the board. Other than him though, you had never seen any of these people in person. “But… But why??”

Tim shrugged, “Humans work with the gods long enough, they start to wonder, ‘Why can’t I be immortal too?’” Your eyes widened at the implication. “It’s a ceremony. You can’t create new energy, only transfer it. They take it from the kids and it buys them a decade.”

“Humans did this??” Din snapped.

You held a hand out and shook your head, “This is… There is no way people just let this happen. You know all this and yet you do nothing?? Roberts knows this!?”

“You’re young. You’re naive.” Tim said with a scoff. “So I’ll forgive you for not understanding. This is bigger than all of us. The Weston family? They aren’t to be trifled with. And if a few kids every decade is the price to pay to appease them then it’s worth it.”

“Not to the parents of the kids they stole!” You snapped.

Tim held your gaze for a long moment, glanced at Din as well, then sighed again. “The reason I know is because I used to be a Captain. This is the kind of information only high ranking officials get let in on. When I first found out, I was disgusted. I wanted to fight it. But a battle against that family isn’t the kind you win.” He shook his head. You felt light headed at the news⏤ dizzy even. The room felt like it was beginning to tilt. “That’s why I gave up my status and took a role in the undercover scene.”

“You ran is what you did.” You pushed the words out forcefully while glaring at him. “You and Roberts both. You’re cowards.”

“You can’t save the world. It’s not meant to be saved. Terrible shit happens all the time and all you can do is protect your own and hope for the best.” Tim said.   

There was a buzzing in your purse that made you pause. You glanced down to pull out your phone. Meanwhile, Din’s hand squeezed your neck lightly as he spoke up. “Where are they?” There was a growl underlying his voice. “Where is my son?”

“I’m not privy to that stuff anymore, but I know they’d need a big, empty space. Someplace abandoned.” Tim shrugged. You read your screen and saw Joel had sent a number of texts asking about what was going on. The words blurred as you tried to read them. You squinted to focus, but the only thing on your screen big enough to be read clearly were the numbers ‘11:55’ in big font on the front of your screen. “Is that Joel? As in Joel Miller?” Your head snapped up in surprise. Tim blinked at you then tilted his head. “You’re working with Joel Miller. Really?”

“So?”

Tim shrugged, “I just didn’t expect that after what happened to your mom.”

The room began to spin and it felt like you were sinking⏤ your limbs felt heavy. You struggled to speak, “What⏤ What are you… I⏤ I…”

“Hey.” Tim leaned forward and titled your head to look into your eyes. You heard Din murmur your name. “Hey. Stay with me. Did Ran make you drink something?” You shook your head, but even Tim was difficult to see now. Your skin felt hot. Hot enough that you wanted to peel it off your muscles and bone⏤ strip yourself into nothingness. “Did he touch you?” 

Din’s hand on the back of your neck, which was once a comfort, made the heat worse. You tried to shake it off, but he didn’t budge. Din spoke, “What’s wrong with her?”

“Get her up. Check her skin.”

You felt Din drag you up and hands brushed against your arms, neck, shoulders, and legs. There was a pinch along your thigh as if someone was picking something off. Din held a little black square in his fingers and you felt woozy while standing. “What is this?”

“He drugged her. She should be fine with it off, but she’s gonna wake up with a nasty headache.” Tim shook his head and stood as well. “You should get her out of here. Fresh air might help.” You watched with unfocused eyes as Din tucked your phone into your purse, wrapped it around you, and then gripped your side to help you stand. Tim chuckled. “You know, Roberts was right. You would’ve made a good Agent.”

That was the exact opposite of what Roberts had told you, and days prior it would’ve made you preen with pride at the statement. However, now it just left you with a gross feeling you couldn’t attribute to the drugs. “I don’t want anything to do with the DMA.”

Tim gave a small shrug and you watched him disappear out the curtain with a mumbled ‘good luck’. 

Din was quick to drag you out and traveling through the club again was a blur of noise and light. It wasn’t until chilly night air filled your lungs that the blurriness began to alleviate marginally, but in its place was a heaviness of your body, mind, and heart. You felt Din scoop you up, but as you stared up at the sky you got lost in the stars.

Mando'a Translations:

Gar klesir jatisyc. [you smell delicious.] Ni ceta. [Sorry.]

For notifs on updates, as I no longer do taglists, please follow @theidiotupdates

Banners by @cafekitsune

[notthefirstfallenangel]

Forbidden to die III

Pairing: John Price x Fem!Reader

Warnings: ADULT CONTENT. 18+, blood, violence, death

Summary: Captain Price endures the horrors of a Russian prison as a prisoner of war, and finds some solace in his cell neighbour, who helps him stay strong with their late-night chats.

Words: 2.4k

A/N: I have tried to write multiple endings, but none feel quite right. Despite my best efforts, the conclusion I have written is not to my liking. However, I accept it as the best one I could come up with at this moment.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

Death is silent, like a shadow, and takes different shapes and forms. Sometimes invisible, sometimes not. Sometimes tall and thin, sometimes short and squat, sometimes all of the above.

Death is a blur in the shadows, which could be any shape. It’s a shade of grey that appears and disappears. You can’t really see it, but you can feel it. Depending on where it is, you can’t even smell it.

Death is silent and takes different shapes and forms. It is a person, a thing; it is unseen. It is a feeling, a fear, a worry, a burden. It comes in a thousand different forms, and no one knows which, if any of them, will strike down that day.

And that day, it came in the shape of you.

Your hands were covered in blood, the body of a man twitching at your feet as he clutched his throat with the same hands that earlier had held you by your arms and shoved you against the wall.

The guard lay before you; he gasped like a fish pulled from the water. His hands scraped over the wound just under his chin, and the air pumped out of him with ragged gasps like a fish being pulled from the water. His blood spilt onto the floor in squeaking, thick spurts.

You looked at your hands, which were now shaking, and then back up to him- his face twisted in terror and pain. You watched as the man convulsed, his fingers desperately clinging to the hard ceramic beneath him. His body was contorted in a final agonising dance. Then, slowly, the spasms stopped, the body falling flat on the floor in a pool of blood, still and silent.

You paused to take a breath, rivulets of sweat dripping from your forehead. Your heart beat like a thunderstorm inside your chest as your mind raced. You didn’t want to be here; you didn’t want to have to do this. But it had to end this way.

When the creak of the cell door echoed through your chamber, you knew it was the moment of reckoning. The guard arrived with a scowl and dragged you from the shadows, ready to bellow his rage yet again. With your heart pounding in anticipation, you knew this was your chance.

Your sleeve hid the gruesome tool hastily created from an old spoon. Its handle was jagged, like a shark’s tooth, shaped and cut out unevenly. It was thin and slender like a pencil yet more pointed, capable of slicing through any material with just one thrust of its point - perfect for stabbing.

You had set the dominoes in motion, a simple act of anticipating the escape of a day to save Price’s life. But from that one action, everything began to unravel like a loose thread pulled from a sweater. The pieces fell into place with an eerie precision that no one could have foreseen. The air was still silent as you held the sharp, rusty knife tightly, its uneven edge biting into your skin.

The split second stretched into eternity; you knelt down, pulled his radio and gun off his belt, and left the body behind.

The thought of dying weighed heavily on your mind.

If you died, all you’d see would be darkness, the blackness of space; it would envelop you like thick ink flowing through water -the last sight you’d see before being pulled away to the other side.

If you died tonight, you’d close your eyes to relieve the pain and feel yourself float away on a sea of blackness. It would be peaceful, quiet, but not cold or terrifying. It would be an end. Your end.

Your lungs would fail, and you’d fall into a deep, comfortable sleep, never to wake up.

Death is terrifying because it is utterly peaceful.

There were bright, soft visions of Heaven, but you found them unconvincing.

You knew that your fate lay outside that door. You could feel the task’s weight ahead of you like a millstone around your neck. The darkness seemed to press in on you, suffocating and oppressive. But you couldn’t afford to be scared. Not now. You had come too far to turn back now.

The plan was to start a fire, large enough to draw the guards away from their posts and allow the other inmates to break free and possibly take over the prison. The tall flames would eat up the dry hay and brambles like a hungry monster, growing faster as it chewed its way through the field like a bull in a china shop. Once they reached the barbed wire fences, there would be nothing left but ashes.

You moved cautiously toward the door, avoiding the pools of blood as you went. The weight of the radio and gun made your hand unsteady, and your heart thundered in your chest. You took a deep breath and placed your hand on the cold metal handle of the door, pushing it open with a creak.

The hallway outside was dark and empty, but you navigated it with all the grace of a panther stalking its prey. Being a spy meant being invisible, and you had mastered the art of going unnoticed better than anyone else in your field. You moved soundlessly, every step calculated and precise, until you reached your target without a single soul catching even a glimpse of you.

The hour of their reckoning had come, and they would soon feel firsthand the inferno of their own wrongdoing.

--

The prison was oddly quiet, a kind of hush that foretold of a coming evil. Price felt it, too - a tension in the air, like something was about to happen and following him like a dark cloud. The hallway and cell block had an oppressive atmosphere - hot and suffocating. Then he smelled it: the unmistakable odour of smoke, bitter and sharp, that burned his nose and made his eyes water. He could almost taste the powdery ding of black and white smoke and ashes. This smell reminded him of war zones- The cries of the desperate and dying, the stench of death. 

The howls of protests, demands, and desperation were distant but just as urgent.

Price gasped for air as the smoke filled his lungs and flooded his eyes. He fought through that awful burning, choking sensation in his throat, which had become hoarse from all the coughing. His voice was rough from the lingering scent of burning plastic and flesh in his lungs. He coughed again, a harsh cough in response to the lingering stench of chemical waste in this redoubt.

“What the hell-?” He coughed and coughed again.

He crawled on all fours, one hand in front of him and the other gripping his shirt in a vain attempt to shield his lungs from the acrid smoke. His eyes scanned the darkness, desperately searching for an exit as he felt around with his fingers.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a sliver of light shone through. Price blinked in surprise as a figure stepped into the room- he could barely make out his frame.

It was one of the inmates he had grown to know well from his own cell block.

“Quickly, now!” he shouted, grasping him firmly. His thick hands were rough, and his grip iron-like as he pulled him up. The calloused palms almost tore into his wrists as Price found himself suddenly standing.

Price stumbled forward, coughing and wheezing. His eyes watered as he tried to adjust to the sudden brightness of the chaotic hallway. The smoke was thicker here, and the shouted protests and demands of the prisoners were louder. Price could see the desperation in their eyes as they scrambled to get out of the burning building. They pushed and shoved, trampling over each other in their haste to escape.

“What the bloody hell’s happenin’?” he asked, his voice still hoarse.

“We’re breaking out,” the other prisoner said, a hint of excitement in his voice.” Looks like you don’t have to be the sacrificial lamb anymore, huh?”

Price blinked, still trying to process the situation. he still felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter. He could hardly believe it- they were actually escaping. He was filled with a sudden rush of adrenaline as he realised that his days of captivity were finally over.

Price barrelled through the cell door, with a thick cloud of smoke billowing behind him. His eyes darted around the room as he quickly scanned for you. Panic swelled in his chest when he saw that your bed was empty, and worry flooded his expression.

And then it hit him. It was you—you were the mastermind behind all of this.

“What the hell?!” He stopped and stared at the prisoner. “Where the hell is she? “Price’s voice was hoarse from the smoke, and a nervous lump formed in his throat. He tried to hold himself together, but he couldn’t. “God damn it.”

He bellowed out your name, but there was nothing but smoke, prisoners and the sound of shouting. 

The man yanks him by his collar, dragging him through the maelstrom of chaos and wreckage. 

“No!” Price protested, “not without her.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Don’t care ’til I see her, alright? “He snapped back before running in the opposite direction.

--

The hallway was dark and barely lit with an occasional flickering lamp. The floor was dusty, the air thick with dust and smoke. You could feel it getting into your eyes, nose and mouth, which all stung with each breath you took.

The air was filled with choking smoke, but you could still make out a few details. It looked like a prison block; you made your way back to the main core of the prison, grimacing as your injured leg throbbed with pain. The torn skin was slick and sticky. When you tried to feel the severity of the wound, your fingers slipped into the red mass of meat and gore.

You released your grip on the weapon after taking out a few more guards as you headed for the exit. 

The soft clattering sound of it on the ground went unnoticed against the cacophony of gunfire and men screaming in pain. The job was done, and you were almost out, but your blood still boiled as you leaned against the wall for support.

There were sounds of chaos all around, echoing through your mind, slowly numbing your soul.

Slowly, you had taken the corner, but the sharp pain of someone grabbing you by the shoulder and spinning you around made you stumble. You tripped on your feet and tumbled to the ground as a guard loomed above you, pressing his heavy boot into your chest.

You froze as you felt the cold metal press against your skin, and a whimper escaped your lips. Like its owner’s voice, the gun’s muzzle was brutal and unforgiving.

The man’s voice rumbled out of him, deep and menacing like rolling thunder. His words were almost inaudible, but the intensity of his presence was oppressive. He pushed his gun into your back so hard you felt it burn through the fabric of your clothes. His fingers dug into her collarbone with a cruel strength as he snarled, “Tell me, where do you think you’re going, little miss?” The raw aggression behind his voice was a warning - one you could not ignore.

The man’s face contorted into a twisted mask of fury; his eyes burned with a crimson fire that seemed to originate from deep within his soul. A sense of primal fear gripped you as you took in the sight before you. His snarling lips were drawn back, exposing his crooked teeth and the jagged scar tissue that stretched like a grotesque mask over his features. The man’s voice cut through the air, sharp and cruel like a razor blade.

” I’ll have to make you an example now.”

Your chest was constricted with panic as you struggled to breathe.

You knew that this was it. You were trapped, and there was no way out. The man’s grip on you only tightened, sending waves of pain coursing through your body. You tried to speak, but your throat constricted, and no sound came out. 

There was a coldness in your heart, something telling you to prepare yourself. There would be no falling asleep and drifting away to endless sleep; this time, you would see what lay beyond the veil. It was time to die.

--

The sky was bright and crystal blue, a contrast to the rocky, grey landscape the hospital window overlooked. The air was cold that day, but the weather was nice. A calm wind blew from the east.

Hospital rooms were quiet, too quiet. The occasional beeping of machinery or whispers of doctors and nurses speaking were hushed, like the clatter of the floor tiles as they walked.

Your voice suddenly broke the hush, saying, “No smoking here.”

Price sat in a chair beside your bed, his face weathered but his body lean and mean. His hands clutch a plastic cup of tea. He smiled at you.

“Smoke’s good for a patient like you...” Another plume of thick, acrid smoke exhales from him. “Besides, you’re supposed to be restin’, love.”

“The nurse is going to kick you out like last time,” you warned him.

The back of his hand brushed against your cheek, and he leaned toward you slightly. “I’ll kick the nurse’s scrawny ass out… “

You chuckled. “It’s bad for your health.”

“I’m not the one layin’ in a hospital bed,” he said.

Price looked up and into your eyes, watching them as they dart around the room, taking the measure of everything. He e had been enamoured with your sparkling, luminous eyes. He needed to look into them—his expression warm and full of adoration. It was a look you’d never seen before.

“Because I saved your life.”

“And I saved yours, remember?” His fingertips gently glided down the side of your head, his touch sending soft shivers down your spine. His fingers delicately combed through your hair.

“I guess we’re even.”

You both shared a moment of silence, just enjoying each other’s presence. The sound of beeping machines and faint whispers seemed to disappear, and it was just the two of you in the room. 

“I don’t know where I’d be without you,” he finally said, breaking the silence. 

You smiled weakly, your hand reaching out to take his. “I’m just glad we made it out alive.” 

Price’s thumb stroked your knuckles as he gazed at you with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat. You knew he was a man of few words, but every word had a depth of meaning when he spoke.

“We did it together,” he whispers, his accent thick and gravelly. “And we’ll keep doin’ it together, no matter what comes our way.”

Tags: @8sy-errah8 @fanficwriterlover @i-ameri-cant @littleone65 @cosmoscoffeee @cj-theyoungling @time-for-tmblr @shuttlelauncher81

[untitled5071]

I'd definitely love one shot requests

Well, ask and you shall receive! Here's the answer to your earlier ask, a Reverse AU of Lisa Frankenstein where she's the creature! Hope you like it!

🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦

“Alright, I think this is everything.”

He could barely see where he was going over the stolen sewing supplies piled in his arms, but he knew he was headed in the right direction thanks to the soft hum of acknowledgement coming from inside his bedroom. Tottering his way over to the corner, he deposited all of his mom’s supplies onto his bed before selecting the thickest hot pink thread he could find and a sharpened upholstery needle and turning to face his guest. 

“What about this one?”

The corpse of the young lady stood there, hair still a little wet from her first-ever shower and completely entranced by the feathered sleeves of his mother’s flowy pink nightgown. He stood there for a moment and watched the dead girl wave her arms slowly back and forth to watch the sheer fabric of the sleeves follow in their wake, and took a moment to wonder just when his life took a turn into Mary Shelley territory. 

He had been totally scared out of his wits earlier; all he had wanted was a night alone on the couch while his brother, mom and stepdad went to a movie, able to start re-watching through his VHS collection without fear of judgment when a absolutely filthy being crashed through the window, stumbling after him and groaning as he tried and failed to flee. After finding the creature-who he quickly realized was, or at least once had been, a woman-sitting apologetically in the living room and looking at him with sad eyes, he decided that he might get further talking to her than running from her. 

And any reservations against connecting with the woman died away when he realized that she was the one whose grave he had been tending to for the past few months, the reanimated corpse of a person buried under a tombstone that only said “Unmarried”.

And so he helped her get cleaned up, letting her shower the nearly century of grime away until he could see slightly bloodshot eyes, a shy smile, frizzy hair teased and tangled within an inch of his life and with a deep and disturbing gash in her left shoulder that needed attention. 

Hence the sewing supplies. 

“I have no idea which of this stuff is…quality or whatever, but my mom has very high standards in terms of the things she buys and especially for her hobbies, I mean, you should have seen how much she spent on fake rhinestones last year, but I think this might be the best stuff to use? I don’t think neon existed in your time but I think you might like this color judging on how much you like that robe.”

The corpse looked up at his voice, locked eyes with the thread and immediately smiled, excited by the vibrant color and opening her mouth to speak, but upon remembering that decay had taken that ability, she began gesturing wildly, clapping and pointing at the thread and then to her butchered shoulder. He got the message quickly enough and cleared the rest of the sewing supplies off of his bed, sitting down by his pillow and gesturing for her to sit on his left. She complied, and he gently guided their torsos so that he was looking at her back, with her turned towards the door to allow him access. 

He unraveled much more thread than necessary and stared at the eye of the needle, completely lost. She must have noticed his hesitance, because she silently reached a hand back and made a ‘give me’ gesture. He placed the needle and thread in her freezing palm and watched over her shoulder as thin fingers-clumsy with a century of deterioration-threaded the string through the eye of the needle and tied it for him, handing it back to him with a small smile. He returned the gesture. 

“Thanks.” 

She bowed her head slightly, and lowered the shoulder of the robe and the nightgown underneath, brushing her wayward hair out of the way to expose the gash that he presumed had killed her. He didn’t want to dwell too much on it, head already spinning with the implications of such a wound, so he gently rested his hand on the robe, the threaded needle poised in the other hand. 

It was only then that he realized that he had no idea what he was doing. 

“Uh..how do I…?”

The corpse’s shoulders shook like she was giggling, and she turned her head to lock eyes with him. Slowly, with the stump of one hand and the fingers of the other, she mimed stabbing something with a needle, then pulling the thread through, then the nice, even stitching and repetition of the motion, and then finally pulling the stitches tight and tying off the work, complete with biting the thread to cut it. He nodded, taking the offered needle and thread. 

“Okay then, let’s…let’s do this.”

She nodded and turned back towards the door, letting him work in peace. It took him a few moments to prepare himself for what he was about to do, and, as gently as he could, stuck the needle in her skin. 

He flinched and expected her to do the same, but she sat perfectly still, examining the feathers on the robe a bit more. 

“Did that hurt?”

His voice was edged with concern, but when she turned her head to look at him, her eyes were gentle and calm. She shook her head minutely. 

“Do you feel…anything?”

She thought for a moment, gaze wandering away from his before she shrugged, settling back with her face to the door to signal the end of the discussion. He took a moment to absorb this new knowledge, then let out a shaky exhale and turned back to his work. 

“Okay then. Here we go. I;m sorry if this comes out…totally terrible but you have to understand I’ve never done anything like this before but I am far from a trained professional.”

The corpse hummed her assent and continued to play with her sleeves, and he could see the smallest corner of a smile playing on her gaunt lips. He tried to ignore what that sight did to his heart and got to work, slowly stitching together the corpse who had quite literally crashed into his life and correctly guessing it would not be the last time he did so.

[iwonderwh0]

The day androids got taken away for deactivation, hundreds of kids with household androids cried themselves to sleep, mourning a family member.

They got attached. Hank too got attached.

Before today, he thought of the revolution as an overall positive event - something worth celebrating, or something he celebrated, at least. For him it symbolised change, a beginning of something better. It was only now that the true scale of the tragedy caught up with him, making him aware of how many android lives it actually cost. Only now it clicked with him how many of them were still mourned, and how, of all people, it was mostly kids who truly missed them.

Throughout December, he saw the memorials with old broken smartphones lined up in tight rows and columns, each for one killed android whose life was meaningful enough for someone to honour it with flowers and candles. And back then, he could never understand why were those flowers so crappy-looking and messy, mostly artificial or folded out of paper as origami. He used to wonder if it was another part of a symbolism - "artificial flowers for artificial people". Now it was obvious that the reason for that was much simpler: it was mostly kids who brought them. Most of them had no means to bring real flowers, so they folded them out of paper.

For the first time, Hank felt embarrassed for never having contributed anything to that memorial when it was still around. He should have brought some flowers, the real ones. Maybe he could even succeed in finding his old smartphone with dead battery and use it as a part of the memorial – if not for someone he personally knew, maybe for some of the deviants he saw last November, perhaps the one who killed himself in a holding cell. He didn't *know* him, didn't even consider him to be a person then, which, however, doesn't mean he could ever forget about him or his case. Arguably, he was the only person who kept thinking about him almost daily months after he died.

Hank didn't lose any close friends or family members the way others did that last November, though. The android he cared most about was still alive, now sitting right beside him on a passenger seat, waiting for Hank to start the engine, fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt. Hank noticed him always fiddling with something, be it a small object or his own clothes that he kept adjusting even if it was perfectly fine the way it was before. He would rub his palms together as if struggling to keep them warm or other times he'd tap the table or other surface he had around with his fingers in some irregular rhythmic patterns that Hank sometimes wondered was originated from some songs he happened to hear, maybe even among those Hank played in his presence himself.

Fiddling was one of those things Connor always did, even before turning deviant. Something so human yet small enough to be completely ignored, or, like in Hank's case, only think of it as something, android did to annoy him personally. How come he never gave it a second thought back then, never wondered why those completely pointless actions were even there? Would it change anything if he did? Would it provided him with enough evidence to answer his question before he had a chance to ask it with a gun? He wished the answers to all those questions were 'yes', and yet it was only now, months later that he actually paid attention to Connor doing any of that and questioned why. Why did he fail to see the significance of it earlier?

As he pondered that, Connor crossed his hands over his chest, deep in thought, while his fingers tapped out a rhythm on his left sleeve. Was he even aware of doing that?

Suddenly Hank felt the urge to touch him. Confirm his presence, and remind him of his own. It took a conscious effort to suppress that urge. Instead Hank cleared his throat and said.

"I remember when kids wanted to become pop stars or video bloggers. Never occurred to me that some kids today might want to be androids."

Connor stopped the tapping and eyed him.

"What do you think?"

"I don't know... It's just weird. That's all."

Connor shifted in his seat, turning to face Hank.

"Who did you want to become?" he asked, "As a kid."

"Not a police lieutenant, that's for sure."

"That's not the answer to the question I asked."

"And you're gonna make it my problem."

Hank could almost feel being scanned as android tilted his head slightly.

"Am I bothering you?"

"Always."

Connor grinned at him, and Hank felt the corners of his own mouth rising as well at the sight.

[hxney-lemcn]

More Than Friends — Rhys (AFK Journey) x gn! reader

summary: what it's like to grow up as childhood friends with Rhys.

tw: mentions of pillagers, village being attacked, mentions of injury.

a/n: I pulled him and immediately fell for the himbo. also, tumblr is killing the image quality 😭

wc: 0.9k

Master List

❥You didn’t really have a choice in being friends with Rhys. He followed you around like a lost puppy much to your parents dismay. He was bad news, trouble always seeming to follow him. You didn’t really mind. Rhys would always show you his bird friends, trying to recite their names he gave them (he would tend to repeat the same name for multiple birds). 

❥You were the first person Rhys showed when he got his gun. He was too little to pick it up, but he dragged it over. At first you were apprehensive. I mean you had only been taught to fight with spears. Such machinery was a bit intimidating. But Rhys quickly reassured you that he’d protect you with his cool new toy…he almost shot a chicken coop getting the two of you in trouble.

❥When you both grew older, your bond grew as well. Rhys never failed to entertain you, and he’d always find himself laughing with you even if it was at his own expense. Even though he joined the Quicksand Claws, he always made time for you. Telling you tales of what glory he’d done earlier that day (when in reality someone else did it while he fed the bird mounts). 

❥Rhys wasn’t the brightest, so he never questioned why his heart speed up in your presence, why he wanted to be in your presence 24/7, why he felt bitter when others held your attention for a little too long. You were really his only friend, the other villagers steered clear of him. He couldn’t compare his relationship with you to anyone else since no one else compared. He loved it when you would compliment him, fuss over him, hell, even when you scolded him.

❥You found yourself endeared to Rhys. You weren’t sure when your care for the red haired man turned from friendly to more, but you found yourself caring for him regardless. He was sweet, albeit a bit brash, but you wouldn’t have him any other way. You found it cute when he’d come back with a gift (typically something he deemed cool enough for you), or a new tale of adventure. You found your mood lifting when his smile came into view. 

❥Everything changed the second your village was attacked. Spear in hand, you fought bravely against your adversaries, but they seemed to greatly outnumber your small village. Although maulers found themselves fighting until the bitter end, your village leader deemed it necessary for a retreat. As you tried to escape, you had found yourself in the center of the fight, unable to stop less your life would be taken.

❥You feared it would be the end of you, and although you didn’t want to die, you were glad you were able to help the children escape with the elders. Your stamina was waning, getting scathed more and more. You were at your wits end when Rhys swooped in, shooting in a circle around the two of you. He laughed maniacally as a few of the enemies dropped. Quickly, Rhys scooped you up onto his mount, continuing to shoot his gun at anyone who dared get in your way. And as you stared up at the man you grew up with, you found yourself admiring the way his scared lips lifted up as his chuckles died down. 

❥When you both met with the rest of the survivors, Rhys had made it his mission to take care of you. Cuts, bruises, and blood littered your body, exhaustion weighing down on your limbs. His carefree smile seemed a bit more strained, but he didn’t want you to feel worse than you already did. He tried to make the atmosphere more light hearted, not wanting his own dark thoughts to consume him. It scared him seeing you in such a state, seeing you fighting with your life on the line. He was grateful he managed to get to you in time, and he just had to keep reminding himself that you were okay. Still alive, still with him. 

❥Your relationship shifted after that day. You had grown closer, more affectionate. Rhys found his eyes always searching for you. Your village had been rebuilt, anything left in the rubble of your old village taken (though much wasn’t left from the pillagers). Rhys had stuck by your side, offering to carry you, or have you ride his mount around. It was quite endearing really. He fretted over every little thing, even as your bruises faded and the cuts healed. 

❥Your parents hadn’t been found yet, and the village was unsure of their status, so they had Rhys stay with you due to your wounds. You didn’t mind, you weren’t sure if you were ready to live on your own anyways. Rhys helped make the empty home feel just a bit warmer, even if you longed to see your parents once more.

❥It all led to one night as the two of you conversed over dinner. Your gaze warm as you fondly watched Rhys gestured erratically to emphasize a story of this bird he followed. The little giggles that slipped past his lips warmed your heart as he spoke so fondly of a bird he saw once. All the warmth and affection you gained throughout your years, and you couldn’t hold yourself back. Leaning over, you gently placed a quick kiss, causing Rhys to freeze, his gaze stuck on you.

❥Rhys’ grin widened, his cheeks tinted a light pink. Nothing needed to be said, you both had been the others for as long as you could remember. You were delighted as Rhys giggled, leaning over and reciprocating your previous action tenfold.

[hyperfixationsporfavor]

True Form Sukuna/Reader: A Moment in Time (Part 4- Fateful Warnings)

Author’s Note: Hello people! I’m back with a new chapter of this fic. It’s super short but I wanted to ease back into writing since it’s been awhile. I just started a new job so I apologize for the lack of updates. Hopefully I’ll be able to drop the next chapter sooner. Enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of blood, implied sex, referenced infidelity, sexism, Sukuna

“Recite it again,” Tengen instructed. 

A young Ryomen Sukuna let out a sigh, holding the parchment in his hand closer to his face to make out the text in the dim candle light. 

“When ending the life of a hostile sorcerer one must be wary that they will not come back as a curse, you must kill them with the usage of cursed energy.”

Tengen stood up from her spot behind the table to stare down at the unruly nineteen year old. 

“Correct, so why did you fail to do so earlier?”

Sukuna tossed the parchment on the stack of other scrolls and leaned back with a shrug. 

The instance she was speaking of had happened earlier that day. A curse user had been causing trouble in a small village up north, leading to the deaths of a few families. This is why they had personally reached out to Tengen in a plea of mercy, for the landowning lords could care less about the lives of a few peasants. 

She had decided to send Sukuna in her place, noticing how restless he was becoming these days, only for her protege to carelessly allow him to bleed out. 

“I had every intention of going back to finish the job,” he huffed.

She glared at him. “Yes you did, as soon as you got back from desecrating his wife.”

He brushed off the claims of infidelity with a wave of his hand. 

“She invited me inside while the ugly bastard was out, believe me the little whore was singing my praises joyously.”

Tengen blew past his odious sentiments with contempt. 

“Yes, only for her to meet her end when he returned as a vengeful curse to slice her throat.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes. 

“I was there.”

“Which is precisely why I’m failing to see how you don’t grasp the severity of the situation!” she snapped.

“What situation?” he argued back. “I used cursed energy to exercise him. It’s over.”

“After a completely preventable loss of life.”

Sukuna crossed his arms. “Are you talking about the wife? She was warming the bed of a man you wanted me to kill. Who cares if she lived or died?”

“It’s not just that Ryomen, it’s the way you’ve been handling everything as of late. Aggressively doing the tasks I give you with little regard for the wellbeing of others, blatantly ignoring my teachings, disrespecting my writings. How am I to trust you as my successor?”

Yes, the original reason she had taken the then young boy into her home. Being a woman, even as powerful as she, could only get Tengen so far. So she had begun relying on the presence of a male figure to act as a stand in for her. 

Played the part of Tengen while she operated from behind the curtain. Currently she had been using a fellow she had met decades ago by the name of Kenjaku, a person she had come to trust, but he was aging rapidly, feeling the affects of old age settling throughout his body. 

So a replacement was necessary, and that’s where Ryomen Sukuna came in.

When she had first encountered him she had sensed a powerful presence, verging on becoming predatory. Despite Kenjaku’s protests she decided to take him on as a student, perhaps she could harness his cursed energy and make him useful. 

But now, standing in front of him, Tengen was beginning to realize that not even she could control Ryomen Sukuna, and she feared a time would come when no one could. 

Sukuna stood up, glaring at his instructor. 

“I am not some puppet like that old bastard you have to keep around! And I’m tired of you holding me back!”

“Ryomen, your reckless actions will lead to your eventual downfall.”

He narrowed his eyes on her. “Are you threatening me?”

“No, I’m warning you. If you stray I will no longer be able to help you.”

He let out a bitter laugh and stormed out of the room, out of the house, out of Tengen’s life.

“I’ll never require your help.”

~

From then on Sukuna strived to grow stronger, and he did, evolving beyond a human body with an appetite that could only be appeased by the taste of human flesh. He lived how he wanted, ate when he wanted, and entertained only those who he found interesting. And at this current moment the one he found the most interesting, was you. 

~

“Damn him! Damn him!” the lord of the house howled.

His personal physician worked quickly to stop the bleeding while he screamed in agony. The other residents and staff stood around him anxiously, waiting to see if he’d live through the hour. 

The young servant boy was the only person whose mind was still on you and the terrified expression you wore as Sukuna had whisked you away. He trembled as he reluctantly approached one of the palace ladies who hovered next to the physician, the same one who had scolded you. 

“My Lady,” he managed to force out. “What is to be done about (Name)?”

She peeled her attention away from the grotesque scene to face him. “Who?”

He blinked in disbelief. “The maid…scheduled for execution.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “What do you think you imbecile? Nothing. Her fate is sealed.”

The palace lady turned her attention to one of the noblewomen next to her. 

“Better a low status maid than one of us.”

“You!” the physician called. 

The servant boy looked up to find it was him who he was speaking to. 

“More rags. Go now.”

~

The End. 

[havecourage-darling]

Firsts: I love you

First I love you.

Part 3 of 12 (each chapter is a standalone)

<< First panic attck, part 2 || First song, part 4 >>

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Henderson!Reader

wc: 7.4K

warnings: cursing, poorly written (i tried lmao) light ish smut, S4 spoilers at the end

A/N: y'all are really killing me with your comments, asks, and messages. thank you so, so much! this one got away from me so there's bound to be typos. Eddie might also come off as ooc a little in some parts, whenever I write from his POV I can get a little lost lol hope you like it!

Eddie knew very early into his relationship that he loved you. It was just a fact of his life.

The sun was bright, jocks were morons, his campaigns were unbeatable, Metallica was music from the Gods, and…he loved you. Fuck, did he love you.

He loved the way you smiled in the mornings when he was the first thing you opened your eyes to, excited to see him. He loved your scent, Jesus fucking Christ, did you smell good. He loved the little noises you made whenever he kissed the base of your neck, a sharp inhale like you were just as hungry for him as he was for you. He loved how you spoke – about anything. Your classes, the news, the book you’d read in class, shit, the weather. The way your eyes brightened and your hands moved passionately, accidentally smacking into him half the time, as you included him on whatever ran through your mind.

He loved how bold you were, how you never failed to match his sarcasm and teasing, how even if you could swear with the best of them, you’d get flustered at sweet compliments. He loved how it didn’t matter where you were, and who was watching, every time you saw him, you’d completely light up. Unabashedly kiss him in stores, at the movies, in front of your friends, at work – anywhere. Like he was something to be proud of.

For how simple, and easy, it was to fall in love with you – he couldn’t say the words.

Now, in his defense, he didn’t exactly know how. Ugh, he rolled his head until it smacked against the wall.

His family wasn’t exactly what one would consider normal. He knew that. You knew that. Everyone knew that. His mother had been sick for as long as he could remember. She’d have good days, and those days were great. But the bad days were filled with him calling his uncle because his mom hadn’t gotten up from her bed in days and he didn’t have any mac and cheese left and he was hungry.

His Uncle Wayne had been the only constant in his life. His father had gone out to work when Eddie was five and hadn’t come back. He knew, out of all his sob story, that was the part that angered you the most. He loved watching you get so indignant on his behalf, your eyes flashing furiously. No matter how much he’d assured you that his father was a wound that had already scarred over, you would always be ready to fight for him. Another reason why he loved you.

Love…hadn’t come easily in his life. His mother had been the only person who ever said it to him and after she died, there was no one left. He knew Wayne loved him – he had to; Eddie had put him through too much shit for him not to – but no one had said it out loud in a long time.

Which is why it felt like someone had dropped a fucking anvil on his throat the second he came anywhere near close to saying it to you.

“Eddie?” Your voice brought him out of his head.

He snapped his head up and watched as you ran a hand down the new dress you’d bought earlier today. “What do you think?” You asked, looking down at yourself, unsure.

“Are you kidding?” He snorted, making his once over obvious, and delighting in the flustered expression that followed. “You’ll be the hottest girl at the party.”

A smile blossomed onto your face, lighting you up from within and Eddie felt his pathetic heart try to claw its way out his chest. It didn’t belong to him anymore and the longer it took him to say those stupid three words, the harder his heart seemed to fight him.

“Are you ready?” You asked, stretching out your hand to him.

Eddie smiled, hopped off your bed, and intertwined his fingers with yours.

Home. You felt like home.

His heart jabbed him once more and he ignored it again. “Come on hot stuff,” he said, “we’ve got a college party to go to.”

Eddie had started to get a little nervous on the ride over. He usually was the one to drive you both places but you’d insisted on driving. You wanted him to be able to drink if he wanted, and you weren’t much of a drinker – Halloween night aside. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. Eventually, when you arrived, you’d given him a long kiss and took one in yours. He shoved the other one into his leather jacket and let his usual persona take over.

“I promise,” you said, seeing under the mask, “it’s a small party. I know almost everyone who’s coming and they’re all really cool people. Steve said he’d try to make it but he had a shift.”

“God forbid Harrington miss a party,” Eddie joked, biting back a laugh when you rolled your eyes. You pulled him into the large dorm suite. The lights were dimmed low, most people wearing glow sticks around their necks. You grabbed a few from the entrance table and stuck one in his upper pocket. Eddie snapped his teeth at your fingers and you grinned.

“Come on, let’s introduce you to a few people. I’ve been talking about you all semester,” you said, brightening.

Bracing himself for the usual distain, Eddie was a little floored when all your classmates welcome him warmly. He met too many people to remember but they all had friendly smiles and interesting stories. There were theater majors, pre-med students, engineers, foreign exchange students, and every single one of them seemed genuinely excited to meet him. A few of them teased you, wondering if ‘that perfect boyfriend of yours really existed.’

Eddie almost burst out into laughter then. Perfect and Eddie didn’t belong in the same sentence.

At one point, you’d grabbed him a beer and pulled him towards a loveseat in the corner. An Asian girl sat, twirling a straw absently, her eyes darting around a group of people nervously.

“Hi you,” you said, greeting her happily. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Yeah, well, Brian insisted, you know how he gets,” she said, eyes catching Eddie’s. “Oh my God, is this the mythical boyfriend?”

“Why did everyone think I was lying? How the fuck would I have given myself those hickeys you all gave me shit for?”

“Listen, I’m not judging, you could’ve been out there living your life – he just seemed a little too good to be true,” she grinned widely, reminding Eddie of a Cheshire. “Hi, by the way, I’m Angela. Your girlfriend’s favorite classmate this semester.”

“I’m Eddie,” he said, shaking her hand.

“I’ve heard,” she said, tone suggestive as she ran her gaze down his body. You groaned to the side of him, slapping your hand to your head and Angela laughed. Eddie grinned, he liked her. “Calm down, astronauts could see he’s only got eyes for you. You’re both disgustingly cute.”

Eddie sat down next to her at your urging and pulled you into his lap.

“Ooh, Angie, tell Eddie what club you started on campus,” you said, grinning down at Eddie.

“Ah, yes,” Angela said, “I hear I’m in the presence of another dungeon master.”

Eddie straightened, his eyes coming back to hers and she laughed. “No shit?” Eddie said. “I started a club in our school too. It’s where we met, kind of.”

“You play?” Angela asked, brows rising up.

“No,” you snorted, “I do not have the mental capacity. Eddie has tried – Dustin has tried. Shit, I think Lucas and Mike have tried. It doesn’t stick. I’m a great cheerleader though.”

“She is,” Eddie laughed, kissing your jaw.

“Ugh, you’re going to make me sick,” Angela teased. You rolled your eyes but he felt your hand squeeze his arm three times. He looked up at you but you were lost in the conversation.

Angela talked about her current campaign and the group she played with, offering him a spot if he wanted one. Eddie explained what he was planning – he had a major campaign coming up before spring break and he was sure his team was going to cream themselves. He went to turn to you but blinked when he realized you’d disappeared. Eddie straightened, not having noticed that you’d gotten up and left, his eyes glancing around the room.

“Henderson’s by the food,” Angela said, pointing you out to him. When he caught your eye, you were mid-bite and nodding along to something the theater major was saying. You smiled brightly at him and scrunched your nose. He smiled back at you, heart skipping, and turned back to Angela.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly at her look.

“Don’t be, it’s cute,” Angela said, sighing. “I wish I had what you two do. It seems nice, you know?”

Eddie’s eyes trailed back to you as you threw your head back and laughed, your hand coming up to hide your smile. He nodded. “I want to say we’re not usually like this…” he said, smiling at the memory of the heated kiss as you’d parked the car outside.

Angela grinned. “But you both can’t keep your hands off each other and you’re head over heels in love?” She rolled her eyes, completely unaware at the panic that had surged in him. “It’s alright, rub salt into the wound.”

“Come on, there’s gotta be someone you’ve got your eye on,” Eddie laughed, shaking off his panic, watching her face turn an alarming red and her eyes darting to the left side of the room.

“No,” she said, unconvincingly.

Eddie followed her gaze and grinned when he saw a tall black girl with long braids swaying to the music. Her eyes were closed and she had one arm up in the air as she twirled around.

“What’s her name?”

“Sienna,” Angela said with a wistful sigh. “I’m bisexual.”

Eddie glanced back at Sienna. “Is she interested?”

“I have no idea,” Angela groaned, dropping her face into her palms. “She’s in my organic chemistry class and she sat next to me in our first semester. She’s just – she’s got the prettiest fucking smile. It’s like I can’t breathe around her and I stumble over my words, it’s mortifying.”

“I get that,” he said, taking a long sip of his beer.

“You?” Angela huffed. “You’ve got Henderson as a girlfriend and look like you just walked off a stage at a rock concert.”

Eddie laughed so hard he almost snorted beer out his nose. “You’re hilarious, I’m literally called Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson.”

Angela rolled her eyes. “High School is a shitshow. People who peaked then end up trapped in a marriage with a cheating partner, two point five kids, and a dog that prefers your neighbors.” She took a deep drag of her cigarette. “And a shitty job.”

“You know, Angie, I like you,” Eddie said, laughing. Is this what it felt like to have people not judge him before he’d even opened his mouth?

Angela winked. “Back at you, Freak.”

A warm hand trailed across Eddie’s shoulders and a familiar voice cut through the music. “You two seem to be getting along.”

“Why’d you hide this one from us for so long?” Angela asked, snuffing out her cigarette. “I’m this close to stealing him from you.”

You laughed, carting a hand through Eddie’s hair. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. “I’ll give him to you for your notes for Psychology,” you said, “and a week’s worth of your famous cookies.”

“Hey!” Eddie protested. “I’m worth at least two weeks’ of baked goods.”

Angela squinted. “Chocolate cake and test notes only.”

You shook your head. “No deal!”

Angela snapped her fingers. “Looks like we’ll have to settle for friends, Munson, it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Might be for the best,” he said with a pointed look to the dancing girl.

Angela blushed and you leaned in. “Oh, secrets already, come on – tell me!”

“Sienna,” Angela sighed.

“She’s here?” You straightened and followed where Eddie had glanced. “Please, please, let us find out for you. She’s in my American Classics class and she’s amazing.”

“You’re both as subtle as a bus,” Angela snorted.

The song faded into a new one, couples bouncing onto the makeshift dancefloor. Eddie heard the familiar guitar notes and dramatically groaned when you snapped to look at him.

Can you hear me calling out your name?

“Oh, Eddie, please,” you plead, widening your eyes and sticking your lower lip out.

“Go on, dance with your girlfriend.” Angela waved you both off.

“He loves this song,” you told her, pulling him up. Eddie shot you a narrowed look and Angela laughed.

“I didn’t have you pegged for a Fleetwood Mac guy,” she said, lighting another cigarette.

“It’s our song,” you said, winking at Eddie. He hated the fact that his entire chest felt like it would burst at your smug look.

“Of course, it is,” Angela groaned, tossing her head back. “You both disgust me, go be romantic somewhere else.”

Before Eddie could protest, you’d dragged him to the center of the mass of swaying bodies. You turned around, pressing your back to his front and he immediately brought his arms around you. He leaned his chin over your shoulder and smiled when you shivered.

“This isn’t our only song,” he said into your ear, “you’re giving me a bad rep with my new friends.”

“Methink thou doth protest too much,” you whispered back, squeezing his arm and swaying with him. “You agreed to a truce. This and KISS.”

He had, because how could he not with you?

“I know you know the words,” you said, nipping at cheek. “I know you can sing, I've heard you.”

Eddie sighed, pretending to put up a fuss to see you roll your eyes. Hiding his grin in your hair, he flipped you around and pulled you into his chest.

“You better make it soon, before you break my heart,” you sang softly, your eyes softening when he looked down at you.

Fuck. He wanted to drown in you.

“Oh I, I wanna be with you everywhere,” he sang to you, relishing in the grin that split your face. He smiled and kissed you, because there would never be a version of him who didn’t give you what you wanted. You smiled up at him, your eyes roaming around his face before you cupped his cheek. Eddie nipped at your palm playfully, your eyes flashing.

I want to be with you everywhere

“Thank you for coming, I know this isn’t your favorite thing to do,” you told him and Eddie’s chest clenched. He pulled you tighter against him and shook his head.

“I’m sorry, princess, for not coming the other times,” he said, “your friends are cool, I don’t know why I thought otherwise.”

“Because you’ve never known anything but judgmental assholes on an ego trip. They don’t get you, not the way I do – the way these people could,” you said, frowning in indignation for him. Eddie’s heart all but stopped. Shit, he loved you so much he could explode with it.

I want to be with you everywhere

The words climbed up from his heart, to this throat, and stalled at his mouth. He exhaled, frustrated, and kissed your forehead instead. “Besides, they’re our friends now. Angie and Carlos said they’d come to your gig next week!”

“Really?” He asked, rearing back his head. His inner turmoil taking a backseat.

“Yeah,” you said, beaming. “I think Carlos’ girlfriend had actually heard you guys before. She said you were good and now he’s convinced he’s gotta come check it out. I wouldn’t be surprised if Angie’s D&D group came too.”

You motioned for him to get closer, looking around you cautiously. Eddie leaned down and you whispered: “I’m inviting Sienna too, that way maybe Angie will grow a pair and talk to her!”

You smiled, glancing back at your friend and sighed. “She deserves to be happy. She’s had a bit of a rough few years. She loves love and I want her to get it, you know?” Eddie’s throat closed in on itself.

“Yeah,” he croaked, “I know.”

/////

Eddie was sure that the craving he had for you, the desire and desperation, would never fade. He’d be old and grey and you’d still turn him on at the drop of a hat.

“Eddie, please,” you breathed, your voice high and desperate. “Eddie!”

He loved the way you moaned his name. He loved the way your nails dug into his back, leaving reminders that you craved him just as much as he did you. Eddie loved the way he fit in between your legs, the way you fit together, and the way it chased away the darkness around him.

Eddie tugged your leg up further and you both groaned at the new angle. He choked when he felt you tighten around him. “Holy fucking Christ, sweetheart, you’re going to kill me.”

You laughed lightly, head thrown back, and legs tensing as he pumped into you faster. “You shouldn’t – ah – take the lord’s name in vain,” you teased and Eddie huffed a laugh.

“He understands,” Eddie panted, his pulse pounding, kissing your neck sloppily. “I’m sure he doesn’t mind.”

“Oh,” you sighed, your legs tightening further his waist, your hand looking for his. Eddie intertwined your fingers together, knowing it was your sign that you were close. He closed his eyes, concentrating on chasing his own and felt it begin at the base of his spine. Your hand squeezed his and right as he felt you both at the edge, your other hand came up to his face. Eddie opened his eyes, surprised, and you were looking at him with a soft smile.

Your eyes darted between his and a slow smile grew on his face. He felt his chest cave in at the adoring expression you wore openly. He squeezed your hand back and almost jumped in surprise when you bared down on him suddenly, your eyes closing, and your grip become steel. You moaned into his ear and in your mindless search for him, reached up and tugged his hair just shy of painful. He groaned, stilling as he felt a flash a white and a constellation of shooting stars behind his eyelids.

With a wet exhale, he collapsed on top of you. He waited until he could feel his limbs before rolling you both over. You squeaked when he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“I missed you,” you said after you’d both caught your breath.

“I missed you too princess,” he said, kissing your temple. “Three days was too long.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, trailing your fingertips down his arm, “finals kicked my ass.”

“I’m a great study partner,” Eddie said, bringing his other arm to the back of his head.

You snorted and he feigned hurt. “I’m offended.”

“I’m sure you are,” you snickered, “doesn’t make it any less true.”

“Wooow,” Eddie huffed, “I wine and dine you and this is the treatment I get?”

“You opened the door and we barely made it to your bed,” you said, shooting him a look.

“Right, and who’s fault is that? I drove all the way to your favorite restaurant, laid it all out, a whole night for m’lady. With only the purist of intentions, I welcomed you into my home. Then you jumped me,” he teased, “clearly you only want me for my body, daughter of Satan.”

You laughed heartily and Eddie let it wash over him, warming him. “I did jump you,” you admitted, surprising Eddie with the lack of argument or quip. “I just…feel like I can’t be fully happy without you there. Like a piece of me is missing. I was jumping out my skin and when I finally saw you, it felt like my heart was going to explode. Ugh, doesn’t that sound corny?”

Eddie’s pulse pounded in his ears. It was corny, especially for you, who despite loving the cheesiest things he said to you, you rarely indulged him back. Eddie looked down at you, to reassure himself that you weren’t a figment of his imagination.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you said, hiding in the crook of his neck. Your light laughs and warm skin made all his nerves stand at attention.

This one, his heart thumped. He opened his mouth, the words on the tip of his tongue, when he felt you bite down onto a fading bruise from the week before. He jerked, surprised, and couldn’t help his laugh at the sight of your triumphant, mischievous smile.

“So,” you grinned, thrusting your hips down to his and Eddie was suddenly acutely reminded that he was still buried inside you. His body, however, was completely aware by the feel of things. He couldn’t keep a groan in, his entire body coming alive at your touch. “Ah, how about you jump me this time? I promise to let you lead.”

You waggled your eyebrows, your expression silly and comfortable, and delicately brushed some of his sweaty hair off his forehead. Eddie smiled, ignoring the lost opportunity – besides, what kind of asshole said it for the first time during sex? – kissed you and fell a little more in love.

He was pathetic.

/////

Eddie was having a shitty day. They were rare, being a ray sunshine like himself, but they happened.

Wayne knocked on his door and Eddie grunted. He didn’t try to hide the scent of the joint in his hand, just glanced over at him.

“You should go see her,” Wayne said, not forceful but stern. “She wasn’t the best but she was still your mother. She loved you the best way she knew how.”

Eddie nodded, not sure if he’d make the drive up to the cemetery but he didn’t want to start an argument. Not that Wayne would force him but, Eddie hated the idea of disappointing Wayne any more than he already had.

“Alright, I left you a burger in the oven if you want it,” Wayne said, sighing. “I’ll be back by tomorrow night. Why don’t you call one of your friends?”

“They’re busy,” Eddie lied.

“What about your girl?”

“She’s got a test tomorrow,” Eddie said, which was the truth, he’d watched you start studying yesterday – you were frantic and sure you were going to fail. You always said that though, a chaotic usual for you.  

“I love you kid,” Wayne said quietly, “if you need me, uh, you can call me at Sam’s.”

Eddie didn’t know if it was the joint or his uncle’s once a year display of affection, but he felt completely gob smacked. He was sure his expression showed it because Wayne made a quick departure.

Great, now he couldn’t even say it to his uncle. Quite literally, the only family he had left.

Turning back to staring at the ceiling, Eddie heard a muffled knock at the front door. Wayne’s surprised voice quickly followed and a short laugh.

“Be gentle with him today, honey. He’s in a mood,” he heard Wayne say. Eddie frowned. There was only one person Wayne ever laughed with.

He heard a knock at his door and you peeked your head in. “Hi hot stuff.”

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asked. “Didn’t you have a study group tonight?”

“We both know I’ll probably ace the test anyway,” you said lightly, stepping in and closing his door softly. “You know, it’s considered a little rude not to answer your phone when your girlfriend calls.”

Eddie glanced at his phone. He’d managed to accidentally knock it off the receiver with his bag.

“I’m joking, in case that’s not obvious,” you said, hopping onto the bed and patting your thighs. Eddie laid his head on your lap and let the comfortable silence settle. Closing his eyes, he let the smoke furl within him, relaxing his shoulders.

He felt you trace the shape of his eyebrow, your fingers light and the action familiar. It helped dull the ache in his chest, like a balm he could never apply himself.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked him.

Eddie looked up at you, your expression open and eyes on him. Sometimes, in middle school -- when the bullying was at it’s worst because his growth spurt wouldn’t hit him until freshman year of high school. Even then, he still couldn’t punch for shit but at least he was taller than most of his classmates – Eddie would wonder if he’d ever get the chance to have someone who loved him again. Everyone else had parents, siblings, and cousins. He had Wayne; who, to give him credit, tried his best. He worked two jobs and long hours so it was inevitable that he wasn’t able to be around much. Eddie had only had himself growing up, and his abundance in energy, to rely on.

“Today’s my mom’s death anniversary,” he said, still a little numb.

“Hmm, okay,” you said, running your fingers through his hair methodically. “Do you want to talk it through, be mad about it, or distract away from it?”

Eddie glanced up, surprised. What little people knew always apologized, or worse, said she was watching over him. Guiding him. Which was bullshit because if she was supposed to be guiding him, she wasn’t being a better mother in death than she was in life.

“Can I choose two?”

“You, Dungeon Master, can choose whatever you want. This is your game,” you said, tracing his lips.

Eddie smiled and turned his face into your stomach. “She wasn’t a bad mom, she was just – not mentally checked in. She tried her best but it wasn’t good enough and I hate that I feel that way.”

Your hands ran up and down his back slowly, a soothing motion, the knots untangling themselves. Eddie watched you reach for his arm and squeeze it three times in a row. It seemed to activate a part of his memory because he turned to look at you. “You do that sometimes, with my hand, does it mean anything?”

He watched, a little surprised, as you startled. “Oh, I didn’t even realize,” you looked down at your hand, as if needing proof, and flushed.

Interesting.

“It’s a habit leftover from my dad,” you said, smiling at the memory, “Dustin was too young to remember but, he was super affectionate. He was always hugging us, holding our hands, giving us compliments. He loved seeing my mom light up or Dustin giggle at the attention. One day, I must’ve been like six years old, I told him that I felt bad that I wasn’t as loud or open with my affection like Dustin. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t love him, you know?”

Eddie nodded; he could imagine you as a little kid. Serious, protective, and a little badass.

“So, he told me that whenever he was holding my hand and I squeezed it three times, he would know that I…” Your eyes darted down to his and away quickly.

Love. That you loved him. Eddie’s heart sputtered, begging to be let out so it could jump into your hands. It wanted to go home.

“Um, he would know that I cared too,” you finished after clearing your throat. “After he died, mom, Dustin, and I just kept up the habit. It’s dumb, I know, but-”

“It’s not dumb,” Eddie interjected, hating the way you wouldn’t look at him. He felt the answer in chest. He knew now, that you felt the same – at least on some level. “It’s not dumb at all. It’s pretty fucking cool.”

I love you.

He wanted to sing it to the world but the words wouldn’t come. He felt caged and frustrated at his inability to just fucking say it. Your hand pulled him from the slippery slope of insecurity and he looked up at you.

“I…I care about you a lot. I just, want you to know that I know you care about me too,” you whispered. “Don’t stress, okay? At least not on my behalf. I’m not going anywhere.”

His blood froze. For some reason – whether it was his mother, his fucked-up childhood, or simply to prove everyone wrong, he wanted to be the first one to say it. He wanted to be able to scream it from mountains and for you to never doubt that you were so, so loved by him. It’s what you deserved. He just…wasn’t ready and you knew that. Somehow, you knew. You always knew. Maybe there really was a God, and maybe his mother had guided you to him. Luck, circumstance, religion, a club campaign, whatever it was – he’d never be more grateful for anything.

“Three was my mom’s favorite number,” Eddie said, the memory floating up to the front of his memory, “she said it was divine number. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. She used to drag me to church ever Sunday. I hated it. She thought it’d help with my energy or put me on a good path.”

“Clearly, it didn’t work,” you joked. Eddie pinched your thigh and you laughed, smacking his hand away.

Eddie continued to tell you stories about his childhood, about his mom. Her good days and bad days. How he’d sit with her on the bad days and sing to her because whenever he was sad, she’d sing to him. She was the first person to teach him that music was healing.

You listened, attention completely on him, and he reached for your hand. You smiled, letting him play with your fingers while he spun his stories. Feeling brave, he squeezed your hand three times. You returning smile was blinding and Eddie couldn’t help but think that sometimes, being brave was worth it.

/////

Eddie was obsessing and spiraling. Two things that should never go hand in hand when it came to him. It created a chaos even he didn’t know how to climb out of.

Enough was enough, Eddie berated himself. He had to stop dicking around and tell you.

What if you didn’t say it back? He smacked his head. Idiot, you already knew and were taking it at his pace. Isn’t that what you’d both alluded to last month?

Your six month anniversary was next weekend. Eddie would do it then. Gareth had already handed him the key to his uncle’s cabin in the woods this morning and it was burning a hole in his pocket. Eddie almost had enough money to buy that kickass necklace he saw at the mall. He knew you’d love it by the way your eyes had stuck to it when you’d walked by the store.

Eddie groaned, anxiety still thrumming in his chest.

He had a plan, goddamn it. He was going to buy roses, the necklace, and enough condoms to last a fucking apocalypse. He was going to tell you over dinner, because it was the truth and he was making a big deal out of nothing. Of course, you loved him back. Didn’t you show him every day? Eddie wanted a future with you, he’d all but admitted that to you already. He was going to graduate in three months, start working at the record store downtown, and finally ask you to move in with him. He was going to stop being a goddamn coward.

A knock at the window startled him so hard he smacked his head. Fuck. He glared at your laughing expression and unlocked the door.

“You did that on purpose,” he groaned, rubbing his head.

“Maybe,” you laughed, breathless from your jog over to the car.

“Hi sweetheart,” he said, turning to you.

“Hi,” you greeted back. You leaned across the center console and kissed him. Eddie grabbed your collar, held you in place for a minute, and deepened the kiss. “What was that for?”

Eddie grinned. “Can’t I be happy to see my lady? Even after she tried to scare me to death?”

You rolled your eyes. “You saw me twelve hours ago and it’s not my fault you didn’t hear me the first two times I shouted your name.” Your hand tangled with his and his chest lightened as he felt you squeeze his hands three quick times. He brought your hands up to him and kissed your knuckles. He squeezed back and you beamed.

“Okay, so you wanna hear about what happened with Sienna and Angie?” You asked, settling into your seat as he started the car.

“Always,” he grinned, pulling out the lot.  

After including him on your day, Eddie let you know about his. He loved this part, the intimacy of it. “Ah, and Gareth gave me the keys,” he said, fishing the key ring from his pocket. “we’re good for next weekend.”

You grinned, bouncing in your seat a little and Eddie laughed. Your excitement was contagious. “I’m so excited! I’ve never been to that part of Indiana. Maria said it was beautiful, that there’s a lake nearby we could swim in.”

Eddie smiled, nodding along to your growing list of plans for that weekend. The light in your eyes and wide smile was wreaking havoc on his ability to keep it together.

The urge to blurt it out now was strong but Eddie gripped the wheel tighter. You deserved better. It was one week until spring break. He could last one week.

/////

Eddie really, really should’ve told you earlier. In his defense, he didn’t think that shit was going to hit the fan this badly. He was supposed to be in a cabin, two hours north, blissfully in bed with you. Instead, he was on this God forsaken lake, watching Harrington get pulled under the water.

"Don't you dare," Eddie growled, his hand gripping your wrist desperately. You couldn’t be thinking about jumping. He couldn’t let you.

"He's my best friend," you said, desperately, expression decided. "Eddie, he's been my best friend since I was three. I can't - I can't let him drown. I'm the next best swimmer, I was the other co-captain. I'll be right back okay sweetheart?"

"Henderson," he exclaimed, his panic clawing at his throat, "don't do this to me."

“You’d jump if it was me,” you said, peeling off what he knew was your favorite jacket and tossing it to the bottom of the boat. You reached over, grabbed his hand, and squeezed three times. Eddie’s anxiety shot through the fucking metaphorical roof. There was no way he was letting you go. Who knew what the fuck was down there? “Eddie, you wouldn’t let me drown.”

Eddie heard his voice hitch a touch too hysterically. “Because I want to marry you some day! I can’t do that if you’re jumping blindly into God knows what!”

“I know, but it’ll be okay,” You kissed him and Eddie tried to tighten his grip on you but you slipped away and jumped into the water quickly. Eddie dove to the side of the boat desperately.

“You can’t just kiss me and leave! Don’t Han Solo me!” Eddie let out a frustrated shout. "I can't fucking believe this," he grunted, standing at the edge of the boat without hesitation.

"Are you jumping in?" Nancy asked, her tone surprised and gaze frantic as she searched the water for the two of you.

Eddie glared at her. "She's the love of my life, of course I'm jumping in," he huffed, "Harrington better be fucking alive or I’m going to kill him myself." 

Did he just admit to Nancy Wheeler, of all fucking people, that he loved you? He wanted to slap himself. After half a year, the first person he said it to -- wasn’t even his girlfriend. The panic in his chest didn’t let him dwell on it too long. You could be dead at the bottom of this stupid lake for all he knew. That thought sent him in a downward spiral. The memory of Chrissy’s body flashed across his mind, freezing his entire being. You couldn’t be dead, you couldn’t -- he wouldn’t survive it. Eddie Munson wasn’t a hero but he’d be damned if he stayed behind while you went headfirst into danger.

He felt a hand grab his and he turned to see Robin's determined face. "Let's go," she said, taking a deep breath. Eddie nodded, trying not to think about it too much, and jumped down the rabbit hole.

/////

Eddie was pretty sure his heart was ripped from his chest when the first thing he heard after falling through that weird ass portal was your screaming. It was guttural, primal, and worst of all - painful.

He angrily swiped the water from his eyes and found you — and what a magnificent sight you were. You had a broken oar in your hands, using the splintered end to stab through a demented looking bat. Alive. You were alive.

Scared and turned on, again. Damn if this wasn’t a cycle with you.

Without wasting another second, he ran towards you, picking up the other end of the oar from the ground.

His heart almost stopped again when he saw one land on your back, its claws ripping at your sweater. “Get the fuck off her!” He screamed, grabbing it by the tail and flinging away.

You whirled around, oar cutting through the air, and smacked it into the ground. Without hesitating, you jumped up and slammed both feet onto its head. Eddie winced as the bone fragments – holy shit what was his life – splintered under your feet. You flipped your hair out of your face, sweat beads across your forehead, and beamed at him. “Thanks sweetheart,” you said, spinning around and hitting another like you were passing out homeruns for free.

Eddie had three seconds to realize two things. One, he definitely had a boner. Maybe he should see someone about that. Two, he was never going to love anyone else as much and as deeply as he loved you.

“Duck!” Nancy screamed and Eddie hit the floor, knees scraping against the ground. He watched her smack another creature with her flashlight and he joined the fight.

Within minutes, Steve ripped the last one apart, spitting out a worrying amount of blood. Eddie watched you steady him and Steve caught his eyes. Eddie was surprised to see a glint in them.

"If you say anything about being turned on right now, I'll kick you," he said dryly to Eddie.

"You found it hot too?" Eddie said, unable to keep the touch of hysteria out of his voice. "Don't sexualize my girlfriend like that man, not cool."

Steve chuckled, moaning immediately after and you pinched the bridge of your nose. "You're both idiots." Robin pointed to the portal but soon, more screeching came from the skies.

Nancy herded you all towards the trees. "We need to hide, come on!"

Eddie came up to Steve’s other side and helped him limp into the refuge of the woods. You all covered a fair amount of ground quickly, everyone stopping to duck under the same rock he’d hidden by a few hours ago as a group of the bats flew by.

You and Nancy had ripped a few pieces of your shirts to tie around Steve’s oozing wounds. Eddie swallowed around a lump in his throat and reached for you when you’d stepped back.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, hands running down your body.

You shook your head at him. “Just a few bumps and scrapes. This isn’t my first rodeo Munson. You should’ve seen me last time,” you said, reeking of exhaustion and terror but still joking. He was pretty sure you did it to put him at ease.

Eddie felt his entire world tilt off its axis as he stared at you. You were dirty, bloody, and were still clinging onto the broken piece of oar like it was a deadly weapon. He thought back to you a few minutes ago and smiled. He guessed it was deadly. Eddie reached out to you and you immediately turned to his touch. You sometimes reminded him of a sunflower, always turning towards him. You never left, never judged, and never expected more than he could give.

This one, his heart thumped. Eddie felt adrenaline rush through him once more, the world disappearing around you.

"I love you," Eddie blurted out, wincing at the way your lips parted in surprise, "I'm sorry I'm finally saying it when we're in this hellhole and you're bleeding but we might die."

"I sincerely hope not," a Robin-sounding whisper muttered behind you both.

"I had a plan, in the cabin this weekend, I was going to - that doesn't matter anymore," Eddie's felt a surge of determination. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, as long as you'll have me, so I can't continue onward looking for Wheeler's guns - which, when the fuck did someone like Wheeler have guns? Although I wouldn’t have pegged you for being strapped either and then you stabbed those things like a goddamn warrior queen – which was hot by the way-” 

"Eddie," you said with what looked like tears in your eyes, guiding him back to his original point.

"Right. I fucking love you princess. So don't be the hero, at least not without me," he said. "Wherever you go, I go, in this monster hunt, okay?"

Eddie watched as you said nothing, your eyes welling up and your grip on him tightened. After a few beats of silence, you spoke. "I love you too, Munson. So much."

"Yeah?" He said, tension bleeding out of his shoulders.

"Of course, how could you ever think otherwise?" You said, peppering his face with kisses. "I willingly listen to that awful band when you drop me off for work almost every week."

"Woman, do not insult Metallica in my presence," he grumbled, kissing you anyway. Eddie was pretty sure you could upend his entire life and he’d still follow you like a lost puppy. "Since we're airing things out, might as well go for gold - when we're out of this shithole, move in with me?"

You beamed. "Took you long enough to ask."

"I was going to ask this weekend!"

"Mhmm."

"I had a whole plan. Moving in was penciled in right after the second round, when you were all distracted, boneless, happy, and less likely to argue with me."

"I never argue with you," you huffed.

“What are you doing now?”

Eddie felt his entire body beam at you when you wrinkled your nose, huffing. “We’re discussing, Eddie.” God, he loved your haughty I-know-better-than-you voice.

"Princess, you're arguing with me about arguing with me."

"I'm not."

"Jesus, is this their foreplay?" Nancy muttered. You turned to glare at her.

“Yeah, kind of,” Eddie answered, smirking when you whipped your glare to him. “Well, at least I’m turned on.”

At that, Steve snorted and while you fought your smile - shaking your head – he could see it slowly growing.

"This is cute and all and I’m for you," Robin called out, "but we really need to keep moving."

"We're right behind you," you yelled back, loosening your grip on Eddie. He watched you reach up and bring your mouth to his ear. “Let’s get the fuck out of here so we can finally get that weekend away.”

Eddie’s blood thrummed, like it always did when you teased, and he reached out for your hand. “After you, m’lady.”

You both lagged a few feet behind the trio, your grip on his waist tight.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?” Eddie turned to you, keeping an arm around your shoulders.

“I would’ve waited for you to be ready to say it,” you said quietly, “I never mind waiting for you.”

This one.

“I wanna be with you everywhere,” you sang softly, snorting when he shook his head at you. He really did love that damn song, not that he’d ever tell you that. Although, he’s sure you knew.

“I know,” Eddie said, and he did. “That’s why I love you.”

“I love you too, goof,” you said, grinning at him.

Eddie smiled and squeezed your shoulder three times.

[dolphin1812]

@eleancrvances has pointed out the heartbreaking similarities between Georges Pontmercy’s death and Fantine’s, with his last cry reflecting his wish to see his child and him dying as he lost hope. The tear is really devastating. Marius’ reaction, though, is interesting to contrast with Cosette’s. Age is certainly part of it. Cosette’s mother died when she was young, whereas Marius was almost an adult; neither one of them really knew their parents, but Marius’ awkwardness here and his attempt to adhere to some social norm for grief reflects his comparative awareness of these standards as an almost-adult, whereas Cosette simply repeated the fact of her mother’s death to a doll in distress. That being said, what these parents represent to each character is distinct. For one thing, Georges Pontmercy’s death is very physical to Marius in a way that Fantine’s wasn’t to Cosette. Fantine’s death was gruesome, but Cosette wasn’t there. She doesn’t even remember her mother:

“"Then you have not a mother?"

"I do not know," the child answered.

Before the man had time to speak, she continued,—

"I do not think so; other girls have one, but I have not."

And after a silence, she added,—"I believe that I never had one.”“ (LM 2.3.7)

At the same time, the idea of a mother means more to Cosette than it does to Marius. Although Mme Thénardier suggests that Cosette’s mother abandoned her, we don’t see Cosette repeat this idea, focusing instead on her mother being dead (or nonexistent, as seen in the earlier exchange with Jean Valjean above). She seems to believe that she suffers because she has no mother, not because her mother doesn’t love her. Marius explicitly feels abandoned by his father, though, making the relationship between them tense in a way Cosette and Fantine’s isn’t. 

To be fair, Cosette may not have complained of abandonment because of the narrative place in which we learn about her perspective on her mother: when Valjean finds her and adopts her. Hugo stresses that both her and Valjean were searching for someone to love, and that when they found each other, they were both able to express this wish and finally rejoice in caring for someone. Consequently, their love takes precedence over Cosette’s grief and/or confusion. Marius, on the other hand, is still on his own and doesn’t really love anyone. He didn’t love his father because he felt he abandoned him, but he also doesn’t love Gillenormand. Whereas Cosette’s story then was at a place of hope, Marius’ is one of resentment and isolation, allowing us to sit with that feeling of abandonment.

That lack of love is sad given that we know Georges Pontmercy did love his son, but it also allows Marius to figure out that something’s off. The scene he steps into is full of grief:

“Anguish, poignant anguish, was in that chamber. The servant-woman was lamenting in a corner, the curé was praying, and his sobs were audible, the doctor was wiping his eyes; the corpse itself was weeping.”

The dead can weep, but Marius can’t. It’s understandable that he isn’t exactly sad, of course, but it’s notable that Marius sees his father as an ordinary person who failed him here (he’s sad to see a corpse in general), not as the “brigand” his grandfather paints him as. This isn’t to say that Marius has changed his political views (he doesn’t really mourn him afterward), but this scene of death and grief humanizes his father to an extent, allowing Marius to process his lack of grief and his moment of guilt for that. 

Still, understanding Marius’ feelings doesn’t remove the pain of seeing Georges Pontmercy die in despair and then have every trace of his life erased. His garden isn’t just overgrown with weeds; everything in it dies, a final reminder of his isolation.

[cozyqueerchaos]

Protective Sonic Sonadow edition hc’s?👀💕✨

EEEEE ANON U ARE SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE <3 - sonic often fusses over shadow's injuries (which shadow is v unused to since he heals)!! shadow will come home with a gaping wound and sonic will freak out and force him to sit down and let him bandage it lol - on that note, he's very gentle with shadow outside of fights (which often leads to more fights haha) - sonic hates all government bullshit but he tries extra hard to be a dick to GUN agents, on shadow's behalf. shadow says it's unnecessary but GUN doesn't know they're dating so there's no real need to put a stop to it :> - sonic will drape himself over shadow when he feels like shadow's in danger. shadow will be talking to some asshole and/or villain and sonic will walk over, rest his chin on shadow's shoulder from behind, and give them the most threatening smile you've ever seen in ur life - they definitely argue about who gets to give who their jacket when it rains

BONUS,, excerpt from a fic i may or may not ever finish:

The edges of Shadow’s lips quirk, annoyance falling away to reveal Sonic’s fucking amazing boyfriend who worries way more than is really necessary. “Sounds like a good way to kill an afternoon,” Shadow says, then looks very much like he regrets that word choice. 

His face falls, not back into anger but definitely not amused, either. Something sad and quiet. Something Sonic sees more often than the rest of the world ever gets to; the traumatized mess of a person Sonic has fallen terribly, blessedly in love with.

“Hey,” Sonic says, and Shadow raises his eyes from the floor to refocus on him. His arms are crossed, as they always are the second Shadow begins feeling unsafe, but if anything it makes him appear more vulnerable. “I’m okay, yeah? I’m not leaving you anytime soon.”

At least, he hopes not. But who can say, really? They live strange lives.

Shadow makes a pained noise, hands flying up to his quills. He glares at the ceiling like it’s personally wronged him, and it takes Sonic far too long to realize he’s trying not to cry. “That’s not- you know that’s not what I’m upset about.”

“I do?” Sonic asks, because he really fucking doesn’t.

Shadow stops, lowering his hands. He blinks, once, eyes wide and a little bit glassy. “...seriously?”

Sonic shrugs helplessly. He sort of wants to stand up and pull Shadow into his arms until that look is nothing but a bad memory, but he gets the feeling a hug may not be welcomed at this precise moment.

“Oh my god,” Shadow says disbelievingly. He doesn’t sound angry, just… bewildered. “Sonic. You jumped in front of a bullet for me.”

Sonic pauses, thinks back to earlier that day. Huh, yeah, that might’ve happened, but- “I didn’t get shot, though?”

“That’s not the point. There’s a difference between living dangerously and actively throwing yourself in harm’s way.”

“I was protecting you!” Sonic protests, but Shadow’s already waving him off.

“I’ve told you, I heal, you should always allow me to take hits-”

“I’m not gonna let you get hurt,” Sonic snarls, rage surprising even him. Shadow pauses in his rant, eyeing Sonic warily. “And you can’t heal if you’re dead.”

Shadow stands there for a long moment. He stares at Sonic with those steady crimson irises, all unearthly calm, and then says, completely serious, “I would always choose you over me.”

Sonic’s rage dies in his throat, and then it’s back twice as strong. “Well, that makes two of us, faker. Of course I’d die for you.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, and Sonic realizes it a millisecond too late. If Shadow was trying not to cry before, now he’s failing at it. “I don’t need more people dying for me, you idiot!” Shadow yells, rubbing at his eyes before they can get any glassier.

[sholmeser]

modern au stuffs…more info under cut

full “bios”:

yasuo:

yasuo grew up in a small mountain village alongside his brother, yone. parentless and illegitiamate, he was treated poorly by other children, and was consequently never able to connect with others very well. he grew up quite lonely despite being very gifted, and his feelings weren’t helped by yone, who continuously pushed him to do better at academics and athletics where he attended school about an hour from their home; this made him feel extremely pressured and lonely throughout his childhood, causing him to act out.

he oftentimes did physical labor around the house; among other things, he took care of their house’s piping system. when he was seventeen he failed to notice a gas leak due to being out of the house after a fight with yone, which caused an explosion that destroyed most of their small home and killed their foster grandfather souma. plagued by guilt and shame, yasuo away from home and didn’t speak to yone for several years.

he’s struggling with having yone around again and is uncomfortable with having him in his home, but he feels too guilty to push him away. alongside being much more mild-mannered in recent times, he has period periods of intense, deep depression that debilitate his ability to function; these were alleviated, however, once he met ahri, who he loves deeply but doesn’t feel adequate for.

ahri:

ahri’s fun, flirty personality masks deep feelings of insecurity and loneliness; an abandoned child who was ostracized for being both asian and a vastaya, she struggled with substance abuse and an eating disorder later on in life. she’s only had one real boyfriend, who died in a car accident that she feels responsible for, as she was driving him home from work late at night intoxicated, unbeknownst to him. all of this means she has found it nigh on impossible to form bonds with others, either.

yasuo was one of the first real friends she’d ever made; he genuinely makes her feel loved, which is why she feels so sad when she sees her own destructive tendencies reflected in him. she’s immensely grateful for the happiness and community—in the form of their mutual friends sarah, illaoi, braum, and pyke—he’s brought into her life.

in her spare time, she’s attempting to track down her birth parents in order to receive some closure on her family status.

yone:

yone was seven when yasuo was born and their mother passed away. though their foster grandfather souma had loved them deeply, he was too old to do much for their small family; thus, yone started working at an early age to provide for himself and yasuo, after having taken care of the house for several years prior to then. the circumstances he’s faced and sacrifices he’s had to make—as well as his general feelings of inadequacy stemming from never having finished school and, in that regard, feeling inferior to yasuo—led him to develop high expectations for his brother, who was their only hope for getting a secondary education and out of poverty. yone adored yasuo and only wanted to push him to do his best, but had a difficult time expressing that well; as a result, he failed to notice the pressure he put and borderline abuse he inflicted on yasuo, and was always confused as to why he was so irritable and lashed out so often. yasuo acting up only led yone to be harder on him, which made their relationship worse. yone was heartbroken when yasuo left, as he saw himself a failure given that he believed that the accident had been intentional on yasuo’s part. he’d never laid a hand on yasuo until earlier that day, when an argument about yasuo’s behavior had turned physical. if he had done things differently, he believes the situation could have been avoided.

yone was able to move away from the village when he no longer had two others to care for, and eventually got an associate’s degree from a community college. however, a massive stroke of bad luck—in which he got fired in downsizing and his apartment burned down—meant he was forced to move in with yasuo and ahri as he didn’t have anywhere else to go. the situation is quite awkward, and yone isn’t quite sure how to start repairing the damage that’s been done.

taliyah:

taliyah is yasuo and ahri’s upstairs neighbor, though she only met ahri after the two of them moved in together. like the two of them, she feels a deep disconnect from her peers and doesn’t quite feel understood by anyone, especially due to the fact that she’s a trans girl. she feels very well taken care of by yasuo, though, who she sees as an older brother. she’s quite anxious about going off to college and has an irrational fear of yasuo not caring about her anymore when she leaves, given that she relies on him quite a bit, and especially due to the fact that he’s mentioned he’s considering proposing to ahri.

general stuff:

i imagine this whole au as a comic or a cartoon

everyone is about six or seven years younger (besides ahri) than i think they are in canon since i wanted taliyah to be a teenager. thus, their ages are those of when taliyah was still yasuo’s apprentice; in canon i think that she is about 23, he is about 30, and so on.

i’m not really sure where this takes place? i wanna say wherever bilgewater is based on given that that was where the rk gang all met, so maybe honolulu/hawai’i’s big island due to the polynesian influences present in the buhru people’s culture. as for time, this is probably the mid-late 00s/early 2010s. yone found yasuo through social media.

yone is fully japanese, while yasuo is mixed japanese and pakistani. ahri is korean. taliyah is egyptian and sunni muslim, but not hijabi.

like in canon, yasuo got the scar on his nose from the final fight he had with yone. it’s also permanently crooked from breaking his nose in that same altercation. yone’s two are from then as well.

though vastaya have some spiritual power and live slightly longer than humans (about 100-130 years), their lifespan and abilities are not nearly as vast as they are in runeterra. like in canon, though, ahri is proportionately about the same age as yasuo.

yasuo and ahri met while yasuo was working at a grocery store.

yone and ahri got off on bad terms when he, subconsciously retaining prejudice from his traditional upbringing, mistakenly believed she was yasuo’s housemaid due to her being a vastaya. she was incredibly offended, almost kicked him out, and refused to speak to him for several weeks. eventually they make up and get along alright, but that’s only really because she made an effort for yasuo’s sake. otherwise, she probably wouldn’t have talked to him ever again.

i think i’ll put riven in this at some point, but she’s still tied to the accident that kills souma. souma kept some small cultural artifacts in his home, which riven was tasked with stealing by the small criminal group she grew up in: she snuck in through the basement, but was caught stealing by souma and forced to leave without her prize; in her haste, she damaged a pipe near where she’d come in and left. she didn’t find out about the incident until much layer and feels horrifically guilty about it, especially because yasuo’s reputation was ruined after it happened (even if he was never convicted of anything).

a lot of other characters are connected to these four. besides the ruined king group, who are friends with yasuo and ahri, a lot are interconnected. some examples are:

sarah knows t.f. (tobias felix) and graves from work. graves is friends with vayne, who tobias is jealous of, and tobias dances on the weekends with evelynn, who graves is jealous of. it’s a whole thing. they live together and work together, but aren’t dating. yet. graves also knows the sentinels of light. vayne and sarah have like. a weird lesbian thing going on. and that is pure self-indulgence

yone’s only friend is lillia, who he also met at work. she’s incredibly skittish and shy, but their friendship is rooted in the fact that neither of them talks very much. i imagine her having deer legs, but not being a centaur like she is on runeterra.

taliyah is friends with ezreal, lux, and ekko, the latter of whom she has a crush on. ekko knows rell, who knows seraphine, who knows ezreal. they’re all one big yet loose friend group. she’s also close with kai’sa, who student teaches for one of her classes.

usan is yasuo’s ex-boyfriend and i could totally imagine them bumping into each other being a running gag. zed obviously knows shen and kayn, who know akali. akali and kayn are 19 in canon, so they would be pretty young. probably like. fuckass 13 yr olds

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

ohh tell me about the Titans AU where Grayson has to fight Rachel's demonic presence???? INTRIGUE

OOOOOOKAY I hope you knew you were about to unleash a dragon when you typed this out because I have A LOT TO SAY AND GIFS TO BACK IT UP

Some of it you probably already know because I can't seem to shut up about this particular episode and I know I've made a post about this a while back but TO RECAP: (Beware of spoilers)

Episode 4x10. Two episodes earlier it has been revealed that Rachel and the season's big bad Sebastian (who also happens to be her half brother) share a physical connection - when one gets hurt, the other gets hurt the same way. To quote Dick: "he cut you with a knife and he bled the same way". Dick and Kory make a decision to bench Rachel to protect her, which she isn't too happy about. So Dick makes a call to a friend from London who knows a little something about magic stuff (the person is never named but DC fans might connect the description to John Constantine) and brings Rachel a possible solution to the connection thing - black magic ritual that is supposed to give the "inner evil" a physical form so it can be killed. They meet with a witch who guides them through the ritual, explains that once the evil takes form, Rachel will be left defenseless because the monster will be draining her energy until Dick kills it. If he fails, she dies. The witch also gives Dick a blade - or rather just a hilt of it and explains that the blade will be formed by magic from his love for Rachel.

The evil takes the form of a monster, which is basically a zombie version of Sebastian and it looks like this:

And Dick spends the rest of the episode chasing it around trying to kill it because he's struggling with getting the blade to work (my man was overthinking it too much instead of letting his feelings guide him but he's a rookie when it comes to magic so I forgive him) and only managed to do it when the monster took Rachel as his direct target

Dick kills the monster, Rachel gets back her life force, the connection is broken. Ritual complete.

What I want to do is make it more angsty. Because sure, running around fighting a zombie was a fun idea for the episode but it wasn't the best. I can agree it works with the logistics of Rachel and Sebastian's connection - the part of Sebastian in her that's creating it will take his physical form - but I love the idea of it becoming more personal to both Dick and Rachel, therefore harder.

You've seen season 1 so you know that in the beginning Rachel had this demonic reflection who always taunted her and tried to make her do bad things, a darkness that took over sometimes.

As Rachel's powers evolved through the show, that part of her disappeared and I want to bring it back. I want the inner evil to take her form during the ritual. I want to put that magic blade in Dick's hand and have him realize that the monster he has to slay to save his little girl is his little girl herself, her own darkness she had to fight her entire life until he taught her how to accept it.

There will obviously be no fight. Because Dick won't be able to fight her. Not when she's standing in front of him with this baby face, striped shirt and blue highlights in her dark hair, the little kid he met in Detroit. He'll be standing there, frozen, while Demon!Rachel does what she does best - taunting, teasing, spitting venom and digging into his head, throwing all his greatest hits right into his face, all the while real Rachel is laying there on the floor, her life force fading away.

And I am ripping my hair out just thinking about it

[starglowwos]

curses, coincidences, and deity influences

so um. i kinda wrote an essay of some sorts

version that might be easier to read is at https://goldstargloww.neocities.org/goldsaysstuff/

the canary curse

canary call, the first to fall / forever caged in different walls. everyone knows this one - canaries were used in coal mines in the 1900s as a warning to miners that there where toxic gases such carbon dioxide or other asphyxiant gases in the air, which would effect small warm blooded animals faster than larger ones due to their quicker respiratory exchange. canaries were found to be more sensitive and effective than mice as they showed more visible signs of distress. canaries were brought into mines in carriers and cages to save the miners, often at the expense of their own lives (though sometimes they had little oxygen bottles to revive the birds)

this is jimmy. jimmy is always out first, without fail, in every season. he's the first one to be struck with lightning and separated from everyone else.

3rd life; died in a war with his husband despite being in a bunker.

last life; died because he got a bit too greedy as a red life and tried to push his brother-figure into a trap, and then faced the consequences.

double life; got caught and strangled by an enderman, leaving his cursed by proxy soulmate to die alone.

limited life; once again got too greedy as a red life and fell off the bridge along with the tnt minecraft he tried to push off of it. in fact, this wasn't even supposed to ever happen. he was supposed to die earlier, when etho got his boogey kill, but he got the incorrect amount of time subtracted from his total. he wasn't supposed to be alive - he was dead before he hit the ground.

two deaths from trying to keep himself safe, two from fall damage, two from greed. ironic how a bird dies twice from falling to his death, huh?

the canary in the coal mine analogy is actually vaguely referenced in the very first parts of 3rd life session one. martyn's digging down and asks bigb to sing for him so when martyn can't hear him anymore he knows he's dug too deep and it's time to leave

miners attempted to revive their canaries because of how much they relied on them. jimmy, however? no potential for revival there.

attempts to break the curse have been made. they've never succeeded.

jimmy's never seen anyone permadie. he's never seen a dead body. the day he does, if ever, is surely gonna hurt. "that should've been me".

the watcher curse

this one isn't really official, it's more of a pattern, and one harder to 'prove'. those who are watcher aligned (ex. grian) tend to cause themselves and their allies to lose or die early.

grian

grian caused scar's death in 3rd life.

all the southlanders died in last life, hell jimmy and mumbo were to his own hands, the two he was closest to.

he killed bigb in double life despite them being secret soulmates.

all the bad boys and clockers died in limited life, many because of him, notably scar.

the listener blessing

pretty much the opposite to the watcher curse, where everyone who's listener aligned (ex. scott, martyn, pearl) tend to cause themselvs and their allies to win or live longer.

scott

grian won third life with scar as second place - scott was allies with both of them

scott himself won last life with pearl, his closest ally, in the top four

pearl (and technically scott, in a sense) won double life with the other half of the divorce quartet as second or third/fourth place. tilly death do us part!

martyn won limited life by betraying his own mean gill, "and i wouldn't have had it any other way."

scott has been allied with every single person who has won one of these death games up to limited life.

martyn

dogwarts, despite not winning in the end, certaintly got very close to it. and martyn was the last of the king and his hand to die.

he made it to the top four in last life and in double life

he won limited life, maybe not the most honorably, but it's been coming all the way since red winter and his plan for red spring. and the watchers were notably involved in this win, too. "THIS IS A DEATH MATCH FOR A REASON."

the phoenix curse (etho)

every odd numbered season, etho loses his last life to fire/burning. in even numbered seasons, nothing fire/burning related even really happens

unnamed (joel)

joel always tends to end up alone and desperate for kills

the watcher's self fulfilling prophecy

the idea that because us, the watchers, the viewers, believe in these curses and stuff, makes them true

the canary curse

the idea that the watchers pushed jimmy off skynet in limited life to continue the canary curse

the widow curse

sort of ties into the watcher curse and listener blessing. the thought that with grian, he causes his allies to die and him to be left standing. with the listener aligned players, they're the only ones left standing until the end.

referenced by scott and cleo in third life, when their husbands die they'd make the widow's alliance

grian never being boogeyman

grian is a watcher who's inserted himself into the games. if he wasn't ever meant to play, if he was only ever meant to watch, why should he be a valid entry?

could be tied to the amount of lives he got in last life, as well. he wasn't meant to be there in the first place. why let him play longer?

the AFK session (grian)

canonically (to eyesandears), grian was pulled away from his body during the AFK session. "pause, unpause, we paralyze / a vacant stare for wandering eyes."

the watchers are pissed that grian keeps getting to play. they're trying their best to rip him out of the games and return to their grasp.

the border

"here's the thing about being beyond the veil - we're already dead."

being beyond the border doesn't protect you. it only hurts you. grian knows this because he's a watcher

bigb's invisibility

bigb was briefly invisible to scott during a fight in limited life due to a glitch in the game. what if this is just because the watchers hate scott with a passion and wanted to make his life harder? we already know they hate him

the fact that it was bigb, a former evo member, is interesting too…

playing by the rules - compliance and refusal

martyn either tries his hardest and fails, or obliges against his will.

his attempted boogey kill on scott failed and the shadow was very upset with him for this. they gave him one job and he failed.

he was very clearly influenced by the watchers to break the notion that red lives should all of a sudden be honorable at the final few again.

scott's outright denial

scott tried the whole boogeyman thing once in last life, but the next time he straight up refused to play by the rules. he told everyone he was the boogeyman and laid out his plan of playing as normal unless a situation arises where he could steal a kill.

he denied his soulmate in double life and went and got a new one

rushed boogey kill in limited life instead of building up the suspense the watchers wanted

has technically won 2/4 games.

bdubs being unwatched

bdubs didn't record his limited life perspective. he could only have been watched through others's perspectives, or heard about.

[sophiie2000]

Honestly any guy!! But I think one of the more cocky boys like Eisuke or Soryu would be cool headcanons ofc are never bad so honestly whatever you want! It’s you’re writing for you to enjoy! Thank you for considering love 💕

Ahh you are so lovely! 🥰

As I mentioned before this is the first request I have been sent, and I really enjoyed trying to think of an approach to your idea, so I just hope I've captured the essence of what you were hoping for! 🤗

Thank you so much, again, for thinking of asking me to do this!! 💕

***

Request: MC (reader) dies, and the guy is given the chance to relive that day again, on one condition, he has to give up all his riches.

Reader x Eisuke Ichinomiya

~ 1920 words

An overwhelming silence took hold of the dark, dreary suite. Eisuke haphazardly dropped his jacket onto the floor. The sound of the clock ticking as the seconds went by, mocked him. Signalling, despite his grief, time continues moving along. 

He felt like he was drowning in a sea of pain and regret. 

Picking up an empty crystal glass, and an expensive bottle of whisky, he slouched in the chair. Downing a couple of glasses, before running his hands roughly through his messy hair. The weak, strangled cry that left him was only witnessed by the moon outside. 

He pounded his balled fists on the table, sending important documents and newspapers flying. 

It had been a while since he had been alone in this suite. It had been a while since he felt so alone in the world. The man who had everything, could have whatever he desired, now felt like he had nothing at all. 

For he did not have her.

Only a few hours earlier he had been surrounded by the hustle and bustle of another convention being held at the Tres Spades. Clinking of glasses. Champagne bottles popping. Chattering guests, laughing. These sounds all filled the boisterous party hall. The usual liveliness filling the air.

These conventions, set up to elicit potential business deals, drained Eisuke. They were so regular, they were boringly mechanical. At least, they used to be…

As the gentlemen in front of him continued to converse, promoting his finest sake, Eisuke couldn’t help but let his eyes drift to the smiling woman standing beside him. 

Her delicate fingers clasped his arm, as her hand rested in its crook. The glistening ring adorning her finger caught the light of the chandelier above, making the diamond atop dazzle brighter. A natural smile graced her soft features, as she offered the man opposite, her undivided attention as he continued to ramble on about the new sake. 

This woman. She captured and held Eisuke’s attention unlike any woman before. She had seemed so ordinary to him when they had first met. Yet now, she was a vital person in his life. A necessity. The one, and only thing, he could never live without. 

Not now he had known her love.

She made social functions that little bit more entertaining. Her honest, unique reactions to whatever new venture a potential business partner promoted inspired him. Her surprise at the outlandish décor, despite how many times she may have seen it. Somehow, she still had not become accustomed to this life. 

Still, this was all part of her charm. Something he loved, and cherished, more than anything else the world had to offer him.

Yet all it had taken was five minutes. Five short minutes for his happiness to be snatched from him. 

Eisuke had been discussing a new venture with one of his usual business partners. They had been so enthralled in their discussion, Eisuke had failed to notice the individual lurking a few feet away. The hatred burning in their eyes as they stared holes into the hotel owners back. 

But one person didn’t miss that stare. Y/n. No… she watched the man like a hawk. She saw each deliberate step he took as he approached her fiancé. 

And she also spotted when something sharp and metallic caught the light as he suddenly increased his pace.

It all happened so very quickly. 

One-minute y/n had been standing beside Eisuke, the next she was in front of him and holding her stomach. 

Her body lurched forward. She gasped from the shock. A sharp pain burned through the fresh wound. 

The first thing Eisuke noticed was the crimson stain forming on her white dress. The stain growing. Her hands covered in the sticky liquid that just kept pouring. 

Blood. 

So much blood.

Eisuke wrapped his arms around her delicate body. Holding his love close he tried to whisper words of encouragement. Telling her it would be ok. All while fastening his tie clumsily around the wound like a tourniquet.

He barely registered Soryu and Mamoru tackling the attacker to the ground behind them.

Y/n was bleeding. And Eisuke knew, the amount of blood she was losing was fatal. 

Eisuke was stirred from his musings by the salty, wet sensation streaming down his cheeks. When was the last time he had cried? Really cried… 

He couldn’t remember what he had said to the other auction managers after y/n lifeless body was pulled from his embrace. 

But he would never forget how cold she had felt. How ashen her skin had looked. And he would never forget the last thing he said, before she closed her eyes one final time…

“Y/n, baby, I’ll find a way to save you. We will be together… I promise you y/n, I love you”

He wouldn’t forget the smile that aligned his loves bluish lips as his declaration of love tumbled so naturally from his own. Lips that hardly ever spoke the words she craved the most. 

How he wished he had rewind button. One which would let him reset on today. Go back to a moment where she was in his arms. Safe. Alive. How he would save her this time. 

He would do anything. Anything, to have that moment again and not fuck it up. 

*** 

A week had passed. No one had seen Eisuke. He had locked himself away in his suite. Surrounded by y/n things. He couldn’t bring himself to part from any of them. 

For if he did, then it would be true… she really would be gone. 

Each moment since the others had forced him to let go of his lovers’ body, had been a blur. How did he get back to his suite? When did he get changed? Had he eaten? He did not know. 

What he did know, was he had spent everything minute, of every hour, since praying to a God he did not believe in. Begging for his love to be reunited with him.

Trudging towards the kitchen, Eisuke spotted a crisp white envelope which had been slid under his door.

The neat calligraphy stood out on the white envelope. There was no sender. No return address. Eyeing the letter cautiously, Eisuke opened the envelope carefully. 

‘If I told you, by giving up all of your riches, you could go back to the day your lover passed away, and reset. Would you do it?’

At first, Eisuke thought it was some sort of sick joke. Go back and do it all again? Sure, he had been praying for such a thing. But… impossible. That was the first thought he had.

But then he remembered all of the ‘impossible’ things that had occurred during his relationship with y/n. And he wondered… what if? What if it was true?

Well, it was obvious.

He’d give up everything. Everything if he could just have her.

***

Sweating, and breathing heavily Eisuke bolted up in bed. Another nightmare. These had been a regular occurrence since y/n was taken from him. 3:00, the digital clock beside his bed displayed the early hour.

When had he fallen asleep?

Yet suddenly, that wasn’t the most important question on his mind. The familiar sound of movement in the kitchen echoed through the suite. On slightly unsteady feet, Eisuke headed towards the kitchen to see who was rummaging around his cupboards at 3 A.M. 

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but the scene before him was definitely not one of them.

“Y/n?!” He gasped, as her familiar form stood beside the counter drinking a glass of ice-cold water. 

“Oh sorry Eisuke, I didn’t mean to wake you!” She smiled ruefully. 

Oh, how he had missed her smile. The cute dimples that formed on her cheeks, as she bashfully looked his way.

“Y-you didn’t” He stumbled over his words, rushing towards her and crushing her in a tight embrace. 

The warm arms that surrounded him told him this was real. Her warmth, the smell of her freshly shampooed hair, the sound of her voice, and the taste of her lips as he kissed her with abandon. She was undeniably real.

“Oh Eisuke, you are sweating buckets! Are you ok?” Concern was laced through her voice, as those delicate fingers threaded through his damp hair.

Eisuke held her even more tightly. Inhaling her sweet scent. It helped calm him down immediately. 

“Yes baby, I’m ok… it was just a nightmare. Come back to bed with me, I don’t remember giving you permission to leave” His usual cockiness filled his tone, but it barely masked the relief displayed in the way his eyes softened at her presence. 

Her soft chuckle was like a symphony to his ears. 

He had been given a chance to reset. He knew what he must do. He would not screw this up. He would make good on his promise, they were going to be together. 

***

Clinking of glasses. Champagne bottles popping. Chattering guests, laughing. These sounds all filled the boisterous party hall. The usual liveliness filling the air.

Yet all fell silent when Eisuke Ichinomiya stepped onto the stage, ready to make his speech. 

His eyes searched the crowd, meeting those of his love. The smile she showed him was all the ammunition he needed. 

This was it. 

He smiled back. The kindest, most genuine smile, he had ever shown at any of these functions. His heart was warm. Full. 

She was all he needed. Of that, he was certain. 

Taking a deep breath, he stepped towards the microphone. The band in the corner stopped their melody. The guests quietened down, ending their conversations. The hall fell silent.

“It has been a great honour to be the face of the Ichinomiya brand over the years. We have imagined, designed and created many ventures during my time leading the group. I have given my all to bring the best ventures to life. And to have had the ability to do so, has been both an honour and something I am incredibly proud of.”

His eyes remained fixed on y/n. Eyes which have held him captive since the day she came into his boring, lonely life. Eyes which now looked to him with confusion, yet awe. 

“It is with a heavy heart, yet excitement, that I must inform you all today of my decision to step down from my role as CEO.”

Gasps. A chorus of gasps spread across the room. Expected. Of course, no one but he would understand this sudden decision.

“The future of the Ichinomiya group is bright. I look forward to seeing what they do in the future. However, as for me, I desire nothing more than to step away and settle down with my own family. I thank you for your understanding and support”

Ending his speech, Eisuke stepped down from the stage. With purposeful steps, he headed directly towards y/n. 

“Eisuke?!” Her confusion was loud. Yet her happiness was undeniable. 

Grasping her hand tightly in his, he led her from the hall. Her warm hand and soft, delicate fingers felt pleasant in his own. This warmth he cherished so much, he would not let go of.

His accomplishments or her? It had been a no brainer. The old, cold CEO hotelier would have chosen his riches. But she had thawed his cold, locked away heart. She had taught him to love.

And he would choose her. Every time. No matter what he had to lose.

For she alone, made him feel like the richest man alive.

[mr-nauseam]

HI, so, I really wanted to learn more about the au you're writing, but one thing that have been keeping on my mind was: what do you think that'll happen in long term? in the sense of the second rebellion and the 74th games and stuff, do you think it'll still happen?

I wanted to answer this question today and it's at night, so there might be a bit of rambling in my answer but let's get started!

First thanks for the question!!! Also I've decided to call this Au: Suffocation Au so I can distinguish it from my other wips even if I don't talk about many of them, haha.

I have to admit that I don't have such long term plans, I usually enjoy open endings and not getting so involved with the events in THG but I do have some ideas of the future after the events that take place in Suffocation (one shot) and I will leave my hypothesis concerning the second rebellion and the 74th games at the end!

The Cardew family enters into crisis. On the one hand, they have no other biological heir, so they will have to give one day the power of the bank to another family, which will cause a lot of tension between the elite families and well, vultures.

The Cardew also demand a meticulous investigation, Livia's mother suspects at one point Coriolanus and there is a potential scandal when that happens Casca (who did not die because in this Au, Coriolanus returns to the capitol in another way) tries to support this hypothesis publicly, this rumor is silenced by the fortune of the Plinth (Sejanus specifically does and this is what makes Coriolanus finally murder Highbottom).

The wedding gift that Coriolanus gives to Sejanus is to murder Dr. Gaul, because in this au specifically Sejanus and Dr. Gaul have a history together of failed apprentice and teacher and a lot of shit happens between them, and Sejanus was very serious when he says that Gaul was in charge of ruining his life (house arrest and he was practicing gamemaker in what Coryo returned and other things).

Some former mentors are more vocal in their opinions against the games (Lysistrata Vickers in specific), and it takes longer for the inhabitants to adopt it as a show, instead of solely a punishment of war because Coryo doesn't immediately return to the capitol when he is sent to D12 and Gaul and Sejanus are not interested in making nice shows, but in fighting 24/7.

Snow not only kills political rivals to be president, he will also kill more people he thinks hurt Sejanus because since he didn't make a big deal about Dr. Gaul he thinks Sejanus approve it somehow, and there are some abandonment issues that Lucy Gray reinforced and he's really as dependent on Sejanus as Sejanus is on him.

The public opinion of the Snow-Plinth wedding is that it was out of pity for Sejanus, who by that point has a reputation for being mentally ill / unstable, this will interfere later with the possibility of an heir (lab baby).

Io Jasper is the head of Gaul's lab when she dies and I believe she could had many arguments with Snow.

About 2nd rebellion: I think the rebellion could have happened earlier, there are details make me believe that it is possible the Capitol is not a united front, able to offer the same comforts and unity among its inhabitants, and Katniss mentions how many people in the capitol from her perspective were there for personal vendettas and we know that if people lose their comfort, they are more willing to want things to change.

What I fear is that an earlier 2nd rebellion (maybe Haymitch games?), could be more problematic in many ways, and end in a very long war (lets remember the dont had the neccesary resources was a big thing in revolution dont be allowed to happen), the D13 would do its thing and I suppose that would affect in many ways. Your question definitely made me began to think about what it would be like!

I promise that if I structure this in a better text later I will share it, I hope I have still answered some questions you had? Thank you again for being interested in my au, I'm open to more questions if anybody want!

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth (4x14) | Memento Mori

They are referred to as alien-human hybrids. While scientifically correct, they don’t consider the title to be phenomenologically accurate. They are bound in this corporeal form, but possess no superhuman capabilities or powers to signify alien origin. 

Down to the most minute cell, they are Kurt Crawford. They are the little boy who held his mother’s hand as they were taken from the El Rico Air Force Base in 1973. They are the innovation of men who weren’t satisfied with God’s plan and decided to make their own.

His existence is similar to  a violinist who can play the second movement of Tchaichovsky’s Violin Concerto without missing a note, but who failed to imbue emotion into the song — the audience can recognize the tune, hum along to the melody, but they know deep down that there’s something not quite right.

Perhaps it’s because they were not of woman borne. There was never a mother to nurture them, only the replicas of other missing people. They never experienced what it was like to grow up or figure out their place in the world — they knew their mission the moment electricity lit up their synapses. 

At least Dr. Frankenstein could see his creation was a crime against nature; even Mary Shelley couldn’t conjure the horror of a monster masquerading as a man. Perhaps the fact that the alien-human hybrids looked like the Syndicate’s loved ones is their punishment for defying the laws of science.

Regardless, the Crawfords’ pragmatism began to fade alongside the health of all the women who suffered just so they could exist. He knew some of the other series didn’t feel the same. The others thought this intervention in evolution was the key to a better world without considering who they would be making it better for.

Why bother with the betterment of humanity if there were no humans left?

John Locke always said that humans enter the world with a tabula rasa, that a person’s environment nurtures who they are to become. Jean-Jacques Rousseau contended that humans enter the world with a predestined morality, that people are innately good without interference.

But what about them? What is destined for a creature borne of fluid and test tubes, guided by the hands of cruel men?

But then again, it would be an insult to claim innocence in the grand scheme. The Gregor Series may have been evil when they cloned the DNA of defenseless children, but the Crawford Series was still using the genetic material harvested from the same project they sought to destroy. The ova from the MUFON women were an integral part in piecing together the genetic puzzle of who they were, but it didn’t make it any easier whenever they saw the women begin to deteriorate.

The list was getting longer by the day;  Edna Cooper, Lottie Holloway, Betsy Hagopian, Penny Northern, soon to be —

“Scully.”

Kurt bowed his head and tried to pretend that their voices didn’t echo around the tiny apartment. For all the bravado Agent Scully was feigning, Agent Mulder matched her with unconcealed fear. This was one of the facets of humanity that made him feel alien. She was dying, and they were fighting. Earlier she had even said she was “fine” while blood poured out of her nose.

He saw death every day. Maybe not first hand, but every file referenced, every lead followed, and every medical chart the Crawfords looked at was laden with it. It seemed to him that wherever death tread, grief and despair were close behind. The losses of the MUFON group didn’t merely extend to the women who died, but the families left behind. 

All of the Kurt Crawfords believed that was uniquely human: the desire to live one’s life in the company of others, to bond with others and care for each other. They wanted to believe their desires to protect the MUFON women was evidence that their existence meant something more. They wanted to exist outside the confines of what the Syndicate had planned for them.

But the Agents standing in front of him whispering with trembling breaths went against all he’d learned about human relationships. There were no hugs of reassurance or words of comfort, yet their gazes held an intimate yearning for each other that reached a depth Kurt couldn’t fathom.

Even as the woman rushed out of the apartment, sparing a sideways glance in the hallway mirror to check for dried blood, Agent Mulder’s eyes never left her. The moment the door shut, the man’s entire body seemed to deflate, his head bowing down as his shoulders curved inward. Agent Mulder raised his hand to his mouth and rubbed the short hairs growing across his skin.

Agent Mulder looked like he might vomit or start crying at a moment's notice, and it struck Kurt that maybe what he was witnessing was one of the most important elements of being human he hadn’t experienced yet. 

Love.

Kurt couldn’t help but think it looked painful, but maybe that was the laws of equivalent exchange at work. He supposed someone could only feel such intense despair and profound loss because they’d known joy and contentment.

“How soon-“ Agent Mulder started, pausing to take a measured breath. “Do you know how long ago Penny found out about her cancer?”

“Within the past year,” Kurt replied, hoping the Agent would accept this answer so that he wouldn’t have to admit it had only been a couple of months.

The answer was grim nonetheless and they both knew it. Kurt could see Mulder tying to could every grain in the proverbial hourglass Scully had left, and he knew it would be a matter of time before he was crushed under the weight of the spent sand.

“Did Betsy have any files on Scully at her place?”

Kurt knew she didn’t, not really, but he could tell Mulder needed to feel like there was something he could do to help her. So Kurt did the most human thing of all.

“I think she did.”

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own!

@gaycrouton