#but now I just want to lie down and not move until sunset

[myname-isnia]

Walking home from grandma’s was literal hell and I only made it by some sheer miracle

[iid-smile]

sunrise and sunset , nanami kento

x fem!clingy!reader ! nanami calls the reader "love" and "darling". the reader cuddles with nanami!!! the reader also loses sleep because of his love because thats cute.

author's note: nanami is so yellow but there's no option for it so he has to be orange </3 tell me why i was actually swooning while i was thinking about these scenarios in my head? especially the second one???? i think everybody agrees that nanami is a listener 100%

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sunrise.

nanami always wakes up before you. he used to get up as soon as his eyes opened, but nowadays, he has a little something holding him down.

it seems like you never fall asleep on your side. that's partly his fault, since he's always beckoning you to come closer to him. but even then, in the morning, he feels himself teetering off the edge of the bed, with two arms wrapped around his neck, and his now asleep arm still wrapped around your waist. slightly dangerous for him, but as long as you feel comfortable, then nothing else matters. seeing your pretty face first thing every day was a blessing.

"kento..." there it is. your tiny mumbles of you waking up.

nanami's lips immediately curl upwards at the sound of your voice. as gently as he can, he sits up more against the headboard, keeping your head laid on his chest. "i hear you." he responds.

the bedroom is quiet and tranquil. he specifically bought black out curtains for your sake, but considering the price, they really weren't doing the best job. mornings in summer were relentless, taking into the account how early the sun rises, and it would wake you up in the middle of your sleep with how bright it was outside. no worries though, since he has plans to replace them very soon.

you mumble again, lips grazing against his shirt. "why aren't you up yet?"

"i don't have work today." obviously a lie. you may be a bit dumb, but you're well aware it's a weekday today, and nanami isn't the best liar.

you lift your head, gaze shooting up to meet with his. "yes, you do! it's a wednesday." you whisper-yell. "you should be up 'nd getting ready..."

"my day doesn't start until yours does." you feel his hand on top of your head, coaxing you to lay it back down. "if i'm late for work, that's fine. you're more important to me." his touch moves up to your upper arm, and his thumb rubs in lazy circles. "go back to sleep, love. you're tired."

"you're too sappy 'n sweet... gonna make me swoon every time you open your mouth, i swear." you grumble.

"then i'll catch you every time."

"stop!"

sunset.

nanami always reads a book before bed. it's usually historical genres, he's not a big fan of sci-fi or comedy. but sometimes, he'll let himself indulge in the odd romance book here and there. why? they're your favourite genre, the books you read. he memorises each different author that he spots you reading, often gifting you another one of their works if he knows you're not having a good day.

finally, you emerge from the bathroom door, a few folded clothes ready to be put away in the laundry hamper. when you turn to him, you watch his eyes intently as they follow the words on the pages. "that's..?"

"i saw you enjoying it this afternoon." he flips a page. you move closer to the bed, crawling on top of the mattress and inviting yourself into the blankets. "you looked particularly thrilled during it. what do you like about this story?"

you pause, thinking over the entire plot. "it reminds me of us."

nanami can only smile, and he doesn't miss the one on your face. closing the book, he places it on the bedside table, and scoops his other arm underneath you. naturally, you rest your head on his shoulder, and hook one of your legs over his. the small distance between the two of you felt that much more intimate that you felt the need to lower your voice. "are you going to sleep?"

"no." the hand wrapped around your waist moves up to your head, just placing it on top of your scalp. "i want you to talk. you seem eager to talk about it."

you giggle inwardly, snuggling impossibly closer to him. "i'm so in love with you." you whisper.

"i love you too, darling. more than words can express." he whispers back.

no wonder you always wake up so late. it's because nanami always has your heart beating too fast before you go to sleep.

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[kissagii]

first love with megumi is soft, curious, and quiet

cw: gender neutral reader, 730 words, it's just pure fluff :)

As day turned slowly into night, the sky looked as if someone had taken a paintbrush to it, streaking it in hues of orange and pink and purple, the last golden rays of light streaking across your face from between autumn leaves. Every inch of the little clearing was bathed in warm hues so unlike the chill seeping into the air, silent and serene save for… footsteps?

“Oh, you’re here,” Megumi said – not in an accusatory way, more like surprise, or perhaps something even softer. Something fitting for the way his heart stopped for just a moment when he saw you sitting so calmly in the sunset.

He sat down next to you, every thought dedicated to steadying his breathing, silent until you spoke. “The sunset’s always beautiful this time of year, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” Megumi breathed, the rest of his sentence unspoken. As beautiful as you. Though that wouldn’t do you justice, would it? No, you were more than the sunset, beautiful every hour of every day, in any season. He scratched nervously at his fingers, staying focused on the sky’s changing hues, anything to keep his mind from becoming a smitten disaster in your presence. But it was too late for that.

“Are you alright, Megumi? You seem nervous.” He didn’t have to look at you to know how you looked at him – with that sweet smile and genuine eyes. 

He bent the truth into a lie – “More or less. Just a bit preoccupied.”

“Oh, I see, you came here to clear your mind. Don’t mind me then, it’s like I’m not here.”

How could it ever be as if you were not there? When the very reason his thoughts were scrambled into incoherence sat right next to him, how could he ignore the rapid beating of his heart as it fluttered in his chest?

An eternity passed – or perhaps just a few moments – as sunset turned to dusk and two sets of eyes stared unwaveringly into the sky.

“Have you ever been in love?” Megumi asked at last, regret seeping into him the moment the words left his mouth. What kind of question was that? How could he be so foolish?

“I don’t really know,” You said, your tone of voice sending waves of relief over him, “I might be now, but it’s hard to say. Why do you ask?”

Megumi thought of the plethora of ways he could respond: he could confess, or he could avoid the topic entirely; he could ask who you were referring to, or he could simply hope it was him that captured your attention; he could even say nothing at all, waiting in silence until by some stroke of fortune you understood that which was left unsaid.

“I think I might be too. But I don’t know, and it’s all so… confusing,” he said at last, leaning ever so slightly toward you, a few millimeters that, to him, made a world of difference.

You breathed once. Twice. Three times. Megumi’s chest was tense as he waited for a reply, any reply, so long as it would break the silence.

“Then how about we explore these feelings together?” Your hand brushed gently against his, and in that moment every thought in his mind splintered apart and reformed into something so familiar yet entirely new. Could it be Love, this feeling? No, not yet, but perhaps it could be – like a rosebud that had yet to open, preparing to open into something bright and tender.

Megumi leaned his head against your shoulder, sighing, a gesture rife with words left unspoken yet clear as day. I don’t know what these feelings are between us, but I cherish them. I want to explore them with you. The gentle circles of your thumb against the back of his hand wiped away his worries and brought him back to the moment, back to the evening, the cool air and dimming lights and warmth of your companionship.

The evening grew darker, quieter, and more serene until at last you broke the soft comfort of silence. “We should head back… Gojo-sensei is probably looking for us.”

He knew he should leave, but he couldn’t bring himself to move away from you. “Let’s stay a bit longer.”

A bit longer, indeed – minutes uncounted that passed in tender silence until at last an insistent voice made the inevitable summons that broke the evening peace.

<3

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 25

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | AO3

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The silence that echoes through Forest Hills is deafening. It's never been this quiet, not in the whole time that Eddie'd lived here, and if that doesn't drive home how alone they are out here, nothing will.

For a long moment, the only thing he can hear is the sound of his own heart beating.

"Put all that stuff on the ground," Jason orders. "Slowly."

It's not like Eddie's in a position to argue with the guy pointing a gun at them. And yet -

"Don't you read the news?" he bitches as he slowly crouches down to put his boxes on the ground. "I was cleared of all charges."

Jason scoffs. "You may have the police and the news fooled, but you can't trick me. I know what you did to Chrissy and Patrick. I know it was you, I saw you at the lake."

"Whatever you thought you saw-" Eddie starts.

"Don't!" Jason shouts. "You think I haven't already heard it? My own family and friends telling me I'm crazy, that I'm just grieving? I know what I saw, you freak!"

"Hey, hey," Steve says. "No one's saying you didn't see anything, okay, just that it wasn't what it looked like."

Eddie can hear the crunch of gravel again, and he risks darting his eyes away from Jason towards Steve. There's a flash of hurt when he sees that Steve is moving away from Eddie's side - until he sees that Steve may have put his box down, but he's still holding his bat.

It's not over his shoulder anymore. Now it's held like a weapon, and he twirls it like a fucking maniac who's just screaming to draw attention from the guy pointing a gun at them.

Eddie's hindbrain notes that it's extremely attractive, just like it did when he saw Steve ripping a demobat in two, and he firmly tells it to shut the fuck up.

Jason shifts the gun so it's pointed entirely at Steve, instead of just hovering between the two of them, and even in the light of the sunset Eddie can see the hint of satisfaction in Steve's eyes, and -

Of fucking course his stupid soulmate is trying to make himself a bigger target to Jason.

Fuck that.

Eddie opens his mouth to try to get Jason's attention back, but Steve beats him to it.

"I don't want to fight you, Jason, even if you didn't have a gun," Steve says.

The prickle of a lie springs up on the back of Eddie's calf, and he briefly wonders what the hell Steve's doing before it hits him - Robin.

This could work, all they have to do is stall long enough for Robin to get help sent over here.

"This isn't about what anyone wants," Jason snaps. "This is about justice for Chrissy and Patrick, I'm just the only one willing to step up and do anything about it."

Steve snorts, spreading his arms and swinging the bat in a low motion. "Look around, man. You're sitting in Forest Hills, after it got wrecked, with a gun pointed at me. That's what you're calling justice?"

"You can still leave, Harrington," Jason says. "I don't have any beef with you. You're one of us, you know? You were one of the greats. You can leave right now, and it won't matter that this freak got you under his spell."

Steve's grip on the bat tightens. "I'm not going anywhere, Carver. You think you can shoot me enough times to bring me down before I get close enough to use this?"

Jason's determined expression falters, the gun lowering just the tiniest bit, and for a moment Eddie thinks they might have him.

Then the gun swings around and points straight at Eddie, and the look in Jason's eyes goes dark with hate.

"No," Jason says. "But I can shoot him before you get to me. You don't want that, do you Harrington?"

Fuck.

"Come on, man, I-" Eddie starts, then immediately clamps his mouth shut when he sees Jason's finger slide over the trigger.

"One more word from either of you and I shoot you right here," Jason says.

Eddie can't see anything but the barrel of Jason's gun right now, so he has no idea what Steve's doing, but he's just as silent as Eddie.

"Here's what we're going to do." Jason pulls something out of his pocket, tosses it at Steve. It hits the gravel with a faintly metallic clink. "You're going to toss that bat away. Then you're going to put those on, handcuff yourself to the railing right there. The Freak and I are going to take a little walk, and you're going to tell me everything you did to them. If the police won't make you confess, I will."

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

"No, man, come on, leave Steve out of this, I'll go with you, just don't-"

"You want to die right now, Munson?" Jason asks. "I told you to shut up."

"All right, Jason, all right," Steve says. "I'll do it, okay? I'm going to toss the bat away."

Eddie risks a look over at Steve, sees him toss the bat aside somewhere and slowly pick up the handcuffs Jason threw at him.

"It's okay, Eddie," Steve says when he catches him looking. "It's going to be okay."

It isn't a lie, but at the moment, Eddie's not entirely sure how the fuck anything about this is going to be okay.

Steve cinches one cuff around his wrist, then takes a few steps back towards the trailer. He has to twist at a little bit of an awkward angle, but he manages to hook the chain of the handcuffs through one of the slightly warped rails of the front porch. Then he snaps the other cuff shut over his other wrist.

"Let's go, Munson," Jason says.

Eddie looks back over to him, and Jason makes a motion out towards the woods.

Jesus Christ, the woods again.

Eddie swallows, trying to tell himself that one pissed off jock with a gun is a lot better odds than a dozen of them, or a swarm of demobats, but with said gun pointed right at him he's not sure how convinced he is of that.

"Hey, Munson?" Steve calls.

Eddie doesn't look at him, but he hears Jason's footsteps slow a little, like he's waiting to see what parting words Steve has to say.

"I'm not going to be able to get out of this," Steve says. His voice sounds genuine, like he's admitting to something he doesn't want to, but Eddie feels the prickle of words being written on the side of his knee. "I can't come after you."

More words, along the back of his shoulder.

"Just do what he says, okay?" Steve asks.

No words this time, but Eddie gets the message loud and clear. He's not sure how Steve's decided he can get himself out of the handcuffs, and he wants to tell him not to hurt himself, but Jason's footsteps have picked up again.

"You heard him," Jason says, triumphant and vicious. "Get moving."

Eddie does, and even though there's still a pit of dread at the bottom of his stomach, and his heart is racing, and his hands are clammy with fear - there's still hope there.

He's not an NPC anymore.

He has Steve, and he has Robin, and he knows there's people on his side coming for him. He's part of the party now, and he realizes that not only does he trust them completely - but he believes without a doubt that they won't leave him behind.

Eddie's not going to die, not today.

All he has to do is stall Jason long enough for them to come find him.

"Do I get an idea about where we're going?" Eddie asks.

"Lover's Lake," Jason replies.

"Didn't know you had that kind of outing planned for us." The words are out of Eddie's mouth before he's even finished thinking them.

He regrets them immediately, even before he gets a hard push between his shoulder blades.

Eddie stumbles, his footing slipping over the slick forest floor, and he barely manages to avoid ending up on the ground. There's a flare of pain in his side from the quick, jerking motions he'd had to do, and his left leg twinges a little, but nothing too bad.

Still, it's a reminder that he needs to be careful.

"You shut your disgusting mouth," Jason spits at him. "We're going to the last site where you cast your Satanic spell. You're going to tell me everything you did, and then you're going to undo the curse you put on Hawkins."

Jesus Christ, Jason's completely lost it.

He guesses it's not surprising, considering what Jason saw with Patrick, but any amount of empathy Eddie might have had for the guy was completely gone the moment Jason pulled a gun on them and made Steve handcuff himself to that railing.

Eddie saw terrible things, too, and somehow he managed not to start waving guns around and threatening to kill people.

He remembers what Steve said, about experiencing something like this making you see yourself in a different light, finding things out about yourself that you might not like. Despite what Steve'd told him, he's still struggling with how instinctive it was for him to run and how much of a coward it makes him feel like, but you know what? He'd rather be a coward than end up like Jason.

If he wasn't concerned Jason might actually shoot him for saying something again, he might point out the irony of it all - that the scary Freak saw Vecna's attack and went into hiding, while the golden boy went on a murderous warpath.

Instead, he focuses on trying to move as slowly as possible, dragging his feet through the dirt and leaves and kicking up rocks and pinecones.

For one - he doesn't actually want to get to Lover's Lake. Sure, the trek there is long enough that it'd give Steve plenty of time to get loose and Robin time to bring in the calvary, but then they'd all have to get out to the lake, too, and that's way too far for Eddie's comfort. For another - he needs to leave some kind of trail for Steve to be able to follow.

It pisses Jason off eventually, because the next thing he knows he's getting another hard shove against his back.

"Pick your feet up," Jason snarls.

Eddie hadn't been expecting this push, though, and this time he's not quick enough to keep himself standing upright. He stumbles, twists a little to avoid falling face first, and ends up on his ass in the leaves and dirt.

The pain in his side flares again, and fuck, he's going to be so pissed if he reopened one of his bite wounds just after he got the stitches out.

"Get up," Jason orders.

"Give me a minute, come on," Eddie says. "I'm not used to this."

Jason snorts in disbelief. "Should've thought of that before you picked this place to do all your Satanic rituals."

Eddie groans, pushing himself up into a crouch. He looks up - and realizes Jason's gotten cocky. The gun isn't pointed directly at him anymore, it's just held loosely in Jason's hand, pointed more at the ground than anything else.

His heart rate picks up as Eddie decides - fuck, okay, yeah, he's doing this.

He hangs his head down, making his breathing harsh and ragged like he's panting for air, and hears Jason give a mean little laugh.

"Sorry you skipped out on so much P.E. now, aren't you, Freak?" Jason taunts.

Eddie's hands dig into the ground under him, picking up a double handful of dirt and pine needles.

Then he surges up, throwing it all in Jason's face.

"Fuck!" Jason shouts, dropping the gun as he instinctively throws his hands up to try to protect his face.

Eddie doubts he has time to bend down and scramble for it, so he kicks it instead, sending it skittering away before he books it to hide behind a grove of trees.

"Get back out here, you freak!" Jason shouts. "You think I can't take you even without a gun?"

Part of Eddie wants to retort that Jason's ability to take him even without a gun is a) kind of in question, considering Eddie's both stronger than he looks and pretty fucking scrappy, when he isn't recovering from nearly dying; and b) exactly why he won't be coming back out, but, well.

Eddie's smart enough to know that saying anything will just draw attention to where he is, so for once, he shuts the hell up.

"Don't think you can get away from me," Jason says. "I won't stop until you've been brought to real justice. You killed Chrissy! She was beautiful, and perfect, and she should be alive right now, not you!"

Eddie bites the inside of his mouth, hard enough that he tastes copper, to avoid making any kind of sound. Part of him still thinks that's true, but he won't give Jason the satisfaction of admitting it to him.

"She was my soulmate!" Jason yells. "She never once told a lie, and neither did I! Neither of us had any words on our skin, we were perfect together, and you took her from me!"

All right, maybe Jason was a little delusional even before all of this.

"You took her from me, and I won't let you-"

Jason cuts off with a choked sounding noise. It's enough like the sounds Chrissy and Patrick had made choking on their own blood that Eddie feels a surge of panic, and he risks peeking out from his hiding spot to see if he's just gotten even more fucked.

But Jason isn't floating above the ground.

Or at least, not more than an inch or so, as his feet scrabble on the slippery pine needles.

Steve is right behind him, and the metal chain of the handcuffs still around Steve's wrists is pressed tight to Jason's neck. Steve's got him pinned back against him, using the few inches of height he's got on Jason to prevent him from getting his feet solidly on the ground.

"Next time you tell someone to handcuff themselves to something," Steve says conversationally. "You should make sure they can't rip it free."

Jesus fucking Christ, Steve needs to stop doing things like this, or Eddie's not going to survive it.

Metaphorically.

Literally, he's very grateful for Steve continuing to do things like this to ensure Eddie's continued survival.

"You okay, Eddie?" Steve calls.

"Yeah," Eddie replies, finally coming out from his hiding spot. "I'm, uh, a little banged up, but otherwise good."

Seeing him seems to spur Jason on, though, because instead of scrambling at the chain around his neck, he tries to knock his head back into Steve's.

Steve seems ready for that, because he's got his body angled so Jason's head falls back against his shoulder. Still, the motion sets both of them rocking back, and though Steve keeps his balance, Eddie hurries over to help.

He's almost there when Jason balls up his fist and slams it back into Steve's face. Steve doesn't let go, so he does it again, and again, and again, and by the time Eddie's there, the last hit must have been enough for Steve's grip to loosen.

Jason slips from Steve's grasp, pushing both of them as he scrambles away. He's choking and sputtering, stumbling over himself, and he makes it only a few paces away before he's on his hands and knees on the ground, sucking in ragged gasps of air.

"You can't take both of us, Jason," Steve says.

Jason scrambles back more, then manages to get himself to his feet.

It's only when Eddie sees the gun again that he realizes Jason wasn't trying to scramble away from them, he was trying to scramble to something.

Shit.

"I'll go with you," Eddie says. "Same plan, okay? You want me to go to Lover's Lake, tell you everything and undo the curse? Just leave Steve out of this."

Steve glares at him, but Eddie doesn't care. Jason looks even more unstable than before, and Eddie's not letting Steve get shot because of him.

Jason shakes his head. Eddie's not sure if it's in response to him, or if he's just trying to clear it after getting choked, but he guesses it doesn't really matter.

Jason's got the gun pointed right at him, and doesn't seem to be inclined to start moving again.

"You said you wanted justice, but that's not really what this is about, is it? It's revenge. You're in pain, and you want Eddie to suffer, too," Steve says.

"What's wrong with that?" Jason demands. His voice sounds absolutely wrecked, like every word is hurting as it's pulled from his throat, and yet he keeps talking anyway. "He deserves it! He deserves to be punished for what he did to Chrissy and Patrick, for what he's done to me!"

"This isn't how you punish him," Steve says. "You think he's in league with Satan, right? So you kill him, and then what happens?"

"He goes to Hell!" Jason shouts. "He goes to Hell where someone like him belongs, where-"

Jason cuts off, and Steve smiles.

"Yeah," he says. "He goes to Hell where he belongs. What kind of nice welcome you think someone in league with Satan's gonna get? Maybe a throne, maybe a new army to command?"

"Maybe I'll get to be a duke," Eddie adds. "A Lord of Hell, that sounds pretty damn good."

"Shut up!" Jason hisses at him.

Still, he falters, and Eddie can practically see the cogs working behind his brain. "It's worth the risk," Jason says, but he doesn't sound as sure as before. "I can't just let him stay here and do it again. He won't confess, the police won't do anything, so this is the only option."

The gun is still pointed right at Eddie, and he contemplates the merits of moving to hide behind a tree again. Jason's barely standing, he's pretty sure the guy's aim is going to be shit right now.

He's pretty confident both he and Steve can get under cover quicker than Jason can shoot.

"You can teach him a real lesson. He took your soulmate from you, you take his from him," Steve says.

Jesus Christ, Eddie's going to kill him.

Jason laughs, harsh and mean. "A freak like this doesn't have a soulmate."

"Steve, don't you fucking dare," Eddie says, too terrified by what he knows Steve is doing to worry about keeping his mouth shut like Jason demanded.

"Yeah, he does," Steve says, completely ignoring Eddie.

The fucker.

Steve taps his chest with his still cuffed together hands. "You're looking at him."

Jason turns his focus entirely on Steve, and Steve gives a significant look to Eddie.

Eddie knows exactly what he wants. He wants Eddie to make a break for it while Steve has Jason's attention. Eddie assumes that Steve's noticed Jason's physical state the same as Eddie has, and drawn the same damn conclusion - only he wanted to make sure that Jason's gun was pointed at him before they both ran for it.

Never mind that Eddie'd just had the same plan when the gun was on him. He's not willing to risk it when it's pointed at Steve, and fuck, when they get out of this, that's probably something they're going to have to talk about.

Right now, he stubbornly stays right where he is.

"You? No way," Jason says.

"Why do you think Eddie kept asking you to leave me alone? You think he'd give himself up for someone if he wasn't soul bonded to them?" Steve asks.

"Don't listen to him," Eddie says. "I'm the one you want."

"He's not denying it, is he?" Steve says. "Because he knows if he does, I can show you the lie and prove it."

Fuck.

"Come on, Carver," Steve goads. "You said he took your soulmate from you. Don't you want to make him feel the same pain? I'm right here, all you gotta do is come get me."

No, nope, this isn't happening.

"Steve, stop, please," Eddie begs.

Shockingly - it works. Steve looks at him, and whatever he sees in Eddie's eyes must make him realize exactly how much Eddie does not want 'Steve throws himself in front of danger and takes the hits so no one else has to' to be Plan A here.

Jason's head keeps snapping back and forth between the two of them, but this time Steve stays quiet, not trying to get Jason's attention on him.

Instead, Steve tilts his head at him, and Eddie nods.

Run.

They both book it, in opposite directions, and sure enough, Jason must be too scrambled to act quickly enough to shoot either of them. For several long, terrifying moments, Eddie expects to hear the sound of gunshots, but all he hears is Jason's labored breathing and the sound of him stumbling a little as if trying to chase after one of them.

Eddie has no idea how much time passes as he stays hidden, listening to the those halting footsteps come closer, then veer away, then come close again. Jason's silent this time - either realizing that nothing he says is going to get them to come out, or in too much pain to keep talking.

Then, finally, there's the thundering sound of more footsteps approaching.

Before all of this, Eddie's first thought probably would have been oh fuck, Jason's buddies are here.

Now?

Now he has a soulmate - two soulmates, really - and a whole Party that he knows will always have his back.

Now he feels a giddy rush of relief even before he hears Hopper shouting, "Jason Carver, put your gun down," and Chief Powell echoing, "On your knees, now!"

They're okay, they're going to be okay.

Reaching the end now! I think I'm looking at one more part and potentially an epilogue.

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Part 26

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[jo-harrington]

Sunsets.

They were always better when you watched them with someone else.

You glanced down at the hands in your lap: yours and Sam's, twined together like your lives have been for the past 5 years. The best of friends from the moment her family moved into town. You couldn't remember a time when you existed without her.

She's chatting now, telling some story about her boyfriend's dunce behavior to cheer you up after Mark broke your heart. Douchebag. You don't really know how you got here of all places; how things seemed to go so right with him and then so terribly wrong.

Sam made a joke at both Patrick and Mark's expense. You laughed and the sound of it was unfamiliar and almost roared in your ear, like a hundred people were laughing.

Everyone always laughed at Sam's jokes. Everyone loved Sam. Everything always worked out for her, even in the most unlikely situations. She was just lucky like that.

You told her once, after she won the talent show at school, that it almost seemed like she was the star of The Samantha Show or something. She found it hilarious, apparently, but you had an inkling that her feelings were still hurt. This was real life, not TV. She didn't just win because she was some main character, she worked really hard on her dance routine.

You felt a little bad after that, never brought it up again. The dark little voice deep down inside you smothered for now.

Because yeah, she did work hard. You knew that. She was smart and talented and funny and caring and a great friend and neighbor and that's just how it was because...

Because...

Because she strived to be all of those thing.

Things you…really didn’t bother with.

Because you were…

You.

Average, squeaking by a three-point-something GPA, wannabe artist who could barely draw, never left town before even when there was that field trip to DC because you got the mumps. A little nervous, a little clumsy, a little romantic with your head in the clouds. You always had a crush but nothing ever really came of those crushes until Mark.

The only boy to ever like you back and then he broke your heart.

“I just want to disappear,” you muttered pathetically and let go of Sam’s hand to cover your eyes again.

"So do it!" Sam finally hopped to her feet in the way that only she could, raring for another passioned, motivational speech that she was known for. You really needed one of those and also loathed that she was about to give you one. "Disappear! Leave!”

This was not the speech you expected.

"Uh, what?" you let out a mixture of a scoff and a laugh, tears forgotten for now. "What do you mean leave? Hello, graduation in a few months. Prom? Then college. What happened to your big plan last week? One last summer in Port Geneva?"

"Forget one last summer," she waved her arms wildly. "This is your life! You're my best friend, I want you happy. Tell me the truth. Do you really even want to go to college? Wouldn't you rather pack up big blue and go on that adventure like you talked about in 8th grade?"

At your blank stare, Sam grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you.

"That's the whole reason we're friends in the first place don't you remember? The ice breaker?! Are you kidding?"

"I don't have a clue," you giggled as she jostled you around.

"Our entire friendship built on a lie. UGH. Ok. Mrs. Mills what-do-you-wanna-do-in-10-years activity? And everyone's was stupid. Tina wanted to be on the cover of Tiger Beat for the Girl Superstar issue. Patrick...gotta love him...but he wanted to be the starting quarterback for the Miami Dolphins. Mine was so dumb I don't even want to say it, great first impressions I made as the new kid.

"But you wanted to see the world! Pack your bags and board a train around the US. Paint the sunset at the Grand Canyon. See glaciers in Alaska! Hell, you even said you'd travel to Middle Earth if you could. And I thought you meant the equator!"

You both laughed and as she went on and on about things you apparently said 4 years ago and as the memory came back to you, your heart ached.

Yeah, you did say that stuff didn't you? You’d been such a silly, idealistic kid before you grew up and reality hit you time and time again.

"That was just kids stuff Sammie," you laughed dismissively. "I'm...I'm gonna take classes at State, and I'm gonna work at the furniture store and I'm gonna..."

"You're gonna pine over Mark Greckman over the rest of your life?" The hands were on her hips again. "No, ma'am, you...you're gonna go on your adventure and...oh my...you're gonna find a prince of some European kingdom or...or a handsome stranger in an Italian villa. Or both. Hoards of men fighting for your affection."

"Please stop," you stood up and grabbed her as she started waving her arms around and pantomiming kissing a tall stranger. "Stop it."

"Ok I'm done, I'm done," she promised. "I just don't want you to be crying over that idiot anymore. And we might be close to graduation but...I don't know...you can still change your mind."

"Hmm," you shrugged. "I dunno. If just sounds so…”

“Unlike you?”

“Yeah.”

"Just think about it," she urged you. "You and your Volkswagen Beetle…and the world...the whole universe if you want it! The possibilities are endless. I just feel like...1985...it's gonna be your year."

There was a spark of inspiration that grew inside of you, and in your heart, you knew she was right.

You pulled her into your arms, grateful to have your best friend.

"Port Geneva was filmed in front of a live studio audience."

Eddie hit the rewind button on the remote and watched the scene speed in reverse until it hit Sam’s big speech. He hit play and watched for a minute then paused, the blurry image of your giggling face frozen on his screen for the foreseeable future.

He sighed and leaned back on the couch to enjoy your company for a minute.

The living room was dark, only illuminated by the glow of the TV and the street lights outside shining through the windows. There was a stack of tapes on the coffee table, along with his abandoned homework. The pizza he ordered would be here soon but for now…it was just you and him.

“M’sorry Mark was an asshole,” he said aloud into the still room. “To be honest…I kind of warned you about him way back.”

You don’t say anything. You never do.

“I know, the heart wants what it wants.” He picked a piece of lint off of his jeans. “I just want to look out for you honey.”

You stay smiling on the screen, and he can imagine it got the slightest bit bigger when he said that.

“I know you try to look after me too. Guess that doesn’t stop either of us getting hurt right?” He chuckled and pat his hands on his lap.

This was pathetic, talking to a fictional character like they were really in the room with him.

You were just…you were everything. And you’d been there for him, a balm to his woes. You had been since he started watching Port Geneva way back when, but especially since everything went down last year.

With his dad and the house and…

There was a knock at the door and Eddie hit the eject button so he could put in the next tape in watch with dinner. It was gonna be a good episode, you tell Mark off and even punch him; he remembered it fondly.

Defending yourself. He was proud of his girl.

Eddie ate his dinner and watched his episodes, taped from when they originally aired. Wednesday nights at 9pm, right before the news. He did his homework and occasionally repeated the rewind-pause-play act that he had perfected over the years so he could make another joke or, just once, complain about his chemistry homework.

Life was hard. For everyone. But especially if your name was Eddie Munson. Still, he endured. He’d never been a stranger to fantasy and escapism, he had his books and his game and his movies but there was something so…comforting in the realism that was your show.

A small suburban town full of normals. All sorts of mundane activities that mostly everyone made feel were…life altering events. And a handful of misunderstood outcasts—like you and Scott and Bonnie—who played supporting characters to the stars. Stars that were, quite frankly, unrealistic and annoying.

Eddie felt that way sometimes though, like he was just some background character waiting for his chance at the spotlight. Who had been the main character in his story, huh? Ronnie? Yeah…he could see that, now that she was on her great college adventure.

But with her gone, what would come of his storyline? Did he just fade into the background again?

Eddie ejected the tape before the current episode finished and propped his feet on the coffee table as he flipped the channels to something else. He needed to focus on something else. He would come back to his tapes, to you, another night and he would wish that you were real once again. Knocking on his door, taking him on a grand adventure with you.

But for now he just needed to stew in his…sad secondary character thoughts.

You got your time in the spotlight, a 2-episode arc at the end of the season, and as much as he hoped that it would be his turn soon…to be the character everyone loved…the person everyone loved…he knew it might never happen for him.

Eddie the Freak. Eddie the outcast. Eddie the idiot.

He would even take a single scene dedicated to him at this point.

Was that too much to ask?

Coming in 2024.

Find the Masterlist here. And the original blurb here.

[masonmiamor]

the cause and the fixing - - mason mount x reader.

gif by @christian-pulisic!!

Summary: After Mason reveals his true feelings, you’re left stuck feeling hopeless and utterly confused on where you lie.

request are open!

“You've been avoiding me…”

The sudden deep and low voice startles you, you look up and see Mason standing in the doorway of Kai and Sophia's house. You look back down and finish cutting the cilantro they needed outside for the marinate. You try to control your breathing, to make yourself seem unbothered and calm, but it's hard to do that especially when he looks so good.

A black tee, with his usual navy green cargo pants, his new hair fixing it all together. His footsteps get nearer to the kitchen island making it known to you he won't stop until you give him a good reason. You continue cutting the cilantro and began placing it in a small container, preparing yourself to make a run for it. But he beats you to it. Tapping you by placing his hand on the counter, the other one rubbing his jaw.

“Y/n… tell me why you've been avoiding me,” his tone of voice sounding almost hurt and disappointed. How can you tell him without ruining things? Tell him you're in love with him all of the sudden? That anytime you want to meet someone new, you look for him in them? That you wish right now you could be wrapped together watching the sunset? No, you couldn't.

“I’ve been busy with Uni, and work. I haven't gotten a day off since all of these upcoming holidays that are coming around soon. I don’t owe you-”

“Bullshit!” he spits out, frowning and fluttering his brows. “You have been avoiding. Not once have you communicated with me tonight or these past weeks. You just went out with your girlfriends the other day, and don't lie, I saw the photos and videos,” his words cause your mouth to agape. You were definitely caught off guard, not expecting him to confess he’s been watching you.

“I already said I’ve been at Uni and work, I don't owe you or anyone explanations. This is just me…” you shrug your shoulders, coming off slightly passive-aggressive. He gives you a knowing and unconvinced look, “Tell me y/n… I know there's something you're not telling me, I thought we were friends that could trust each other,” he states. You grimace at the word friends… ‘he doesn't feel the same at all. He doesn't like or even love you Y.n! Wake up and move one’ you thought.

A moment of silence passes, and you shift your weight from one leg to another suddenly becoming shy and small against his taller figure. You look up and lock eyes with his now softer brown ones. His hand is no longer propping himself up, now slowly reaching up to your cheek, where he rubs his thumb over the small and unnoticeable imperfections. He gulps heavily, the tension slowly growing in the proximity of your bodies.

Your pulses raise almost as if you could hear it in the silent room, your breathing rapidly grows but you try to play it off. You gaze over his freckles, the small scar on his lip and upper brow, and his longer slightly curved lashes back down to the small moles on his cheeks and neck. You slowly lift your hand and pull his off your cheek gently, watching the visible wounding look on his face, completely confused and shocked.

“I have to go outside. They need me, if you'll excuse me,” you whisper almost afraid you let your true emotions and feelings out. “Y/n,” he calls out his voice stern and serious as you walked away holding the container. But you don't listen just letting your feet and body guide you outside with the rest of the crowd. You fight back the tears wanting to come down, trying to stop your shaky hands from collapsing.

To say you were feeling watched was an understatement. How could you not feel his long stares and gazes from time to time? The fact he stared right exactly at you when he spoke to his friends around him? Mason couldn't keep his eyes on you all night, thinking back to the way you've been distant and ignorant. But why though, what had he done to make you feel this way exactly? Or who?

Soon after you found yourself growing tired, it had been a couple of hours since you last saw him, and now all you desired was to be at home and maybe cry. He was nowhere to be found though, not outside or inside, completely gone. With courage and strength, you said goodbye to everyone, promising Sophia you'd make it to brunch next week on monday.

“I better see you there Y/n! I miss our dates together, and honestly, I need to be out sometimes,” she laughs making you smile. “I'll be there, and maybe with a small gift too,” you tease and wink at her. She hugs you tight and kisses your cheek before making your way out. When you step outside you see his car and him driving off.

All the overwhelming feelings got the best of you for the rest of the week, making it hard for you to focus since you were so distracted. Your professor even called you out for, embarrassing you infront of everyone. That Saturday evening someone knocked on the door leaving nothing but a package you had not placed or ordered. Inside was a gold necklace with a heart and infinity sign. You left it in the front, obviously not yours.

The next morning you woke up with a text from Mason asking if you could talk but you didn’t respond. Not mentally prepared to face him after everything. You had the whole day to clean and prepare for Monday. Sophia had reminded you about your brunch and you sent her your outfit to confirm everything, to say the least, she was over the moon.

The morning before Valentine's day you got up early to make yourself look somewhat presentable. You curled your hair slightly, applied makeup, a darker lip, and even some falsies that you like to go along. Your outfit was a long sleeve short black dress, some tights, and heeled boots, your dark red trench coat was the cherry on top. You grabbed a beanie, scarf, and some gloves in case the weather decided to drop a bit more. You placed some gold jewelry and grabbed your wallet making sure everything you needed was inside.

The restaurant was not that far so the drive was easier than in past times. You met Sophia inside, your waiter coming along and asking for drinks. You went with a cup of juice rather than something bitter, while Sophia ordered a cappuccino. “You know who asked about you yesterday?” Sophia said then took a sip of her coffee. You had an idea of who but you didn't want to say it out loud, you shrug your shoulders and spoke.

“Who?”

“Mason. Well, he sort of asked me more. He wanted to know how you were doing and if you received a package. But he just looked so disheveled and upset Y/n. I don’t know, Kai and I have never seen him like this,” she says. The package? That was from him? He didn't leave a note or anything?

“Did something happen between you? You look tense and pale,” she retorted, you could hear the worry and nervousness in her voice. You sigh, your shoulders dropping, “I’ve been avoiding him… Mason, I haven't spoken to him.”

“Okay uhm-, I may need more information as to why… Did he say or do something? Or?” she says shifting in her seat. Your leg bounces up and down, suddenly feeling the attention on you. You fidget with your ring and look up at her, her lips pressed together waiting patiently. “If you don’t want to tell me that's okay too! I don’t want to force you or anything like that-”

“No no no, it's okay! Maybe talking it out is what I need to do…” you utter.

~~~~~

You went out for a small get-together but shocker! The house was filled with strangers partying as if their lives depended on it. You felt dizzy and slightly tipsy, still coherent about your surroundings. After using the upstairs bathroom you went down and walked through the crowds of bodies. The smell of sweat and weed knocks your senses. But before you could make it to the kitchen you stop dead in your tracks.

“You taking Y/n home or what?” teased Ben, making Mason snicker out a laugh. “You're hilarious absolutely not!” his groupie chuckled. “Oh cmon Mase, when are you going to admit it and finally ask her out?” spoke Christian.

“What are you guys on about? I do not like Y/n whatsoever. We're friends buts that's it. She is stunning but she's not for me, I'm too focused right now on football. That’s my priority.” mason said in an obvious tone. Your heart shattered a bit, misreading the whole situation.

He was the one that invited you here tonight, practically begging you to come as he didn't want to go alone.

“Man, please! She's so into you, she makes it obvious sometimes, and you do too. The hand holding, your hand on her waist sometimes. You make her giggle when you whisper into her ear? That fact you've told us she's off limits? Yeah just friends my ass,” snorted Reece.

Did you really make it that obvious? Your cheeks burned red in embarrassment as he called you out. Maybe you did interpret the situation wrong and he didn't feel the same way. You imagined after spending an incredibly close time together he may feel something.

He always kissed your temple when he greeted you, hugged you tightly after a long day, and sent you random videos he finds interesting or funny, and the way he remembers even the smallest details. The fact he is completely different around you than he is with his friends, is more real and humble. This wasn't the Mason you grew to know?

“I don't know what you want me to say or expect me to do. I already told you guys I’m single and that's it. I'm not interested in her at all. Me and her are friends and simply that. And she's off limits because I know the type you guys are. Don’t need her getting hurt by you?” Mason conspicuous.

You listen all along as they tease and sometimes laugh, all while as you silently cry. You keep it together for the sake of not trying to ruin the vibe. When he meets up with you after a while he apologizes for leaving you and kisses your head, holding you tightly against him. It suddenly didn't feel right, and he could sense it.

“You okay?” his voice strained with uneasiness. “I'm fine, just tired and hot. I'm going home soon,” you tell him. He completely believes you and locks your hands together, bringing them up to his lips where he kisses your knuckles. “Just let me know so we can go home.” Your stomach turns at the intimate gesture, your eyes slightly burning.

Does he not realize what he's doing? That this isn't what friends do? That it feels so wrong yet right? That he says ‘home’ as if you were living there. “I'm going with Sophia actually, I do not want to bother or spoil the night,” you lie, offering a smile and watching as his eyes soften at your tone. “You don't ever do that Y/n. I love spending time with you. It's special and truly one of a kind…”

He gets up and leaves again after 10 minutes. When you go and find him to tell him you're leaving, you see Mason talking with a blonde, smirking at her. The disgust, rage, and pain you feel. ‘He was never yours, and never will be..’ you think. You regret coming as you make a run for it, trying to forget this ever happened.

~~~~~

“What a fucking prick! And he has the nerve to still ask about you?” exclaims a now furious and frustrated Sophia. You chuckle and sigh more deeply than before. “It's whatever now. I look stupid and he's out there living the dream!” you say sarcastically and Sophia gives you a sad look.

“I do think you should talk to him though… if you want…” she offers. You strain out a laugh, “And say exactly what? ‘I overheard you the other day, and by the looks of it, you want to remain just as friends?’ ‘Mason I like you but you don't look at me the same way?’”

“It hit me already we weren't meant to be, and that's completely okay! I'm not going to force him to be with me, like he said his main priority is football. I can’t be a distraction or hold him back from what he wants… something he's sacrificed and worked long for” you express. “If it isn't meant to be it won't ever happen or work out. I can't keep that slightest bit of hope forever that one day he changes his mind and might like or love me in a way, it will mess with my head.”

“Ive been hurt in the past before, and it took a hell of a long time to even open up to people. I’ve learned and I’ve lost, and I won't put myself through what I went through,” you say softly. Sophia remains quiet, not knowing what to say or do, but she asks you something that makes you laugh painfully inside, “Do you love him?”

“Yes… and it scares the living crap out of me. But what is love?”

~~~~~

After brunch you go to work, wanting to groan at the number of paperwork that's waiting for you at your desk. You greet the receptionist and go up the elevator to your floor. You attend a small and quick meeting and catch up with some colleagues. You close your office door and stumble back at the big bouquet of white and red roses at your desk. “What the fu-”

You walk over to investigate it, seeing no note once again. Your phone pings and you look down to see who it was.

Mason

I hope you enjoy the roses. We need to talk y/n. It's driving me insane, I just need to see you. Please just talk to me.

And so you agree… like the old times before. The whole day was filled with nothing but anxiety and nerves. You agree to meet at your flat, so you pass by and buy some groceries to make dinner. A bottle of wine if case things end up going the wrong way…

You stumble around trying to find your keys, but your hands are full of bags. “Here let me help,” Mason's voice startles you almost dropping your bag and groceries. But all you do is watch as he takes some bags and unlocks your flat door. “Is that it? Or is there more stuff in the car I can go get?” you eye him suspiciously as his body language is off and tense. Is he nervous?

“That's all of it,” you say deadpan walking into the kitchen and beginning to put stuff away. He follows you like a lost puppy but still helps put items in their place. The closeness of your bodies again makes the tension rise in the room. The air feels hot and almost claustrophobic. He watches and hears as your heeled boots click against the ground.

That's when he finally takes a good look at you, your hair curled and parted to your favorite side, your makeup is fully done, the long dark red trench coat, but what makes him clear his throat is when you remove it and sees the tight black dress fitting perfectly against your figure. Resisting the temptation to pull you close, and trace his hands over your curves.

“Would you like anything to drink or eat for the moment?” you say shyly as you felt his gaze on you. He shakes his head still dazed and looking at you, ‘Is this real?’ Mason thought. “I’m okay for now thank you,” he mutters out finally. You nod and go to the sink to wash your hands. Mason feels even more confused and off. Why were you acting like this?

“I didn’t expect for things to turn out this way for us,” Mason says out of the blue. Your chest feels heavy and full, but you manage to face and look up at him, “What do you mean?” you almost plead. He walks around over to you, “I mean for us to go from being so close to acting like strangers…” he whispers.

“You’ve been avoiding me, and I want, no, need to know why Y/n,” he begs. You cross your arms so he wouldn’t see your shaky hands. “So please let’s do us both a favor and talk. To mend and fix things between us. Isn’t that what people do? Talk it out?” he questions.

“Are you seriously going to act like that and avoid what you said?” you say angrily. He stares at you dumbfounded, “That’s the thing though, I don’t know what I said. So please help me out here.”

“Y/n and I are just friends, nothing more. Oh but wait suddenly I'm off limits?” you quote back to the party. He puts two and one together but before he could speak you cut him off. “Yes. I did overheard, I tried not to but that’s hard when someone or a group is speaking about you,” you defended.

“Y/n…” your name coming off slowly and hesitantly from him. “I don’t know why you’re wasting your time here, we’re just friends. Friends just check in then and there, just a quick update and that’s all. Friends don’t almost kiss each other goodbye or cuddle on the couch, they totally do not whatsoever go on dates and hold hands, or do what the other person enjoys doing. Friends are friends,” you rant.

He just stares at you, feeling his throat go dry. “You wanted to talk but you’re suddenly quiet. What’s up? Cat got your tongue,” this new you slightly intimidated Mason. “We’re not just friends, and you know what,” Mason finally objected making you scoff. “I don’t want to lose you Y/n, i’ll never forgive myself for that, but we both know and can’t deny that we’re just friends.”

“What happened to football being your main priority? Did that sudden change how you feel too or?” you acknowledge humorously. “I’m not going to sit here and beg for you to tell me you feel the same way. I don’t know if I believe you…” you continued. “But I do feel the same way… The exact same feelings you get…” he blurts.

You shook your head, and looked down. He steps closer to you grabbing your sides, you feel how they tingle at his touch. “I can tell you right now exactly how I feel about you without feeling shy or scared.”

“It’s the way you make me smile or laugh for no reason, that you always see the positive despite it being negative, you come up with the craziest ideas that in the end I always agree to do, that you push me to do the best and beyond, that I can be myself and feel safe at all times with you, that I can come to talk to you for anything…”

“The way you’re always down to get ice cream despite it being late, that you hold me the right way and soothe my inner thoughts away. What I love most is that contagious laugh and smile you have, that you’re not afraid to speak what’s on your mind ever. That you put others first including me before you, I simply love because you’re everything I see in my future. My future is with you, together.”

A tear rolls down your cheek, and soon the others follow. “Whatever I said that night, I never meant a single word, or for things to get like this, to make you feel like this. I said it because what we have is special and precious, and they wouldn't understand, sometimes I just want it for myself, in our own little world…”

“Mason,” you croak, reaching up and finally touching his chest and then placing them on his neck, rubbing your thumbs over his jawline, his stubble tickling. “Jesus baby, your touch is like silk, soft and gentle yet delicate at the same time,” he groans, his hand coming back to wrap around your back, pulling you closer.

You let out a faint giggle, seeing him smile wide, “I love you Mason,” you finally confess, he bends down and gently places his forehead on yours. “I love your brown eyes, hair, nose, dimples,” you tease. He laughs, “Okay so physically features anything else? Do you like my hands? My brows? My sense of style?” he jokes.

“I love the fact that no matter what you always come back to me. With you I feel complete, you’re caring, respectful but most of all loving. Our time together never is wasted, as if you're always down for a crazy adventure. You know how to calm my stress and always tell me to chase my dreams. But Mason, you are my dream and beyond.”

“Just like in my future?” he whispers along your lips making you shudder. “Exactly like the future you see. Me and you…” he wasted no time and brushed your lips together. His lips engrave into yours, one kiss and you’re already intoxicated. His lips move passionately against yours, his hands traveling dangerous low as yours come up to play with his hair. He pulls away his eyes still closed, “Be my valentines and girlfriend?”

“Yes, I'll be your valentine's and girlfriend I guess,” you jokingly roll your eyes annoyingly. He kisses you again, and then pecks your lips, still not over the feeling of you finally being his.

“I love you Y/n…”

[xbunnybunz]

entropy as a flame that flickers red [Arcane!Viktor/Reader]

Summary:

He holds his other hand out to you, upturned and already beginning to pool with rainwater. Even in the dark, his eyes catch shrapnels of light like flint and amber.

You’ll always agree to anything he asks of you.

Or, in which you are loved, and you are changed, and you are lost. Told in three parts, in ten pieces.

Genres: Romance, Angst, Sci-Fi/Fantasy

I.

“A gradual, irreversible change into disorder.”

-Oxford Dictionary on: Entropy.

“To be loved is to be changed.”

-tacticalcoquette

II. 

“Viktor.”

A boy is crouched in front of the creek, clutching a toy boat to his chest with one hand and winding it with the other. “Yes?”

Another child stands beside him, behind him, just slightly. “I’m afraid.”

“Of?”

There is no response, only the sound of running water.

III. 0

You stand there, in that foreign, wet darkness, staring straight ahead.

The sound of falling water. The cold bite of nighttime air. The rise and fall of your chest.

Close your eyes. Feel the slide of rain moving from the crown of your head down to your jaw, feel how it stagnates at the comb of your eyelashes, at the jut of your lips, beading, motionless, before inevitably collapsing over the edge.

You hear the hush of water under the dock, how the push and pull of water overpowers the rain, even when the downpour is raucous. 

Either the tide or the stormwater licks at your feet, wicking upwards into the holes of the soles of your half-size too-large leather shoes, cobbled specially for staff at the University of Piltover, for Viktor, who had requested them in what he thought was your size.

When he arrives, he arrives soaked, hair dark from the rain, wetly sticking to his forehead and ears.

“I didn’t think I would catch up to you.” He says.

It’s a lie and both you and him know this, something to say for the sake of saying anything at all. You would never flee too far from the University, too far from where his illness would allow him to travel. 

You wonder if he’s aware that you will never be upset enough to be gone for good.

And you don’t respond to him, because maybe you don’t want him to know this. Instead, shift nervously, foot from foot. Your left leg hisses under the weight and the gears, crude, give way and you nearly buckle.

Viktor notices. 

He produces an umbrella from the inside of his blazer, leaning heavily on his cane with one hand to pull it out from the inner pocket. 

“Please,” He says simply, and you notice the way his right knee trembles.

You don’t have to ask why he didn’t use it. You can only move so fast when wielding both an open umbrella and a cane in a storm. 

Take it. It opens large enough for the both of you, but he insists that you keep yourself dry. You do not miss how he pushes the umbrella over your left side. 

“I’m sorry.” You say.

Your eyes slide from the hand lingering on yours to his face, and he smiles. Really, smiles.

“Come,” He says. “Let’s go.”

He holds his other hand out to you, upturned and already beginning to pool with rainwater. Even in the dark, his eyes catch shrapnels of light like flint and amber. They’re ringed with dark circles, they’ve been this way for some time, now.

You’ll always agree to anything he asks of you.

Take his hand.

IV. 0

It starts before the first sign of lightning breaks from over the rolling mountains. Before the stunningly red sunset from last week, or the flurry of shooting stars tearing across a blue-black canvas from the months before that.

A crack of lightning illuminates your memory. Pinch each photon into darkness, compress the fractured sky back down into a hair-raising, sizzling type of imminent danger. 

Push the sunset until the sky unripens from a deep cherry red to a fierce magenta to a cloudless blue. Keep going until the night fades into the day before, until the stars ripping a seam into the sky alight it again and fade just as quickly as they come.

Unwind the spool of time until the pair of you arrive in Piltover, fresh from the slums of the undercity, sick with poison and sicker with want, in the glittering, glamorous city of Progress, then keep going.

Go further back still, until there is a matchstick, then stop. Watch.

Watch as the wooden grain of the match gives slightly as it is pressed against rock. Watch the slide of the match against a cavern wall, kinetic power building, friction reaching a burning point until sparks catch in the darkness. Until a flame engulfs the hot pink igniter, held tentatively between a forefinger and a thumb.

Watch as one of the children hold up the match to the other, like it is magic.

“Entropy.” He says. “Irreversible change.”

You listen to him carefully.

“I can undo the damage,” He says, “I have the concept down, and the blueprints. Given, they are crude. But with time that can change.”

You are in his modest bed in his modest Piltover apartment, sizeable enough for one and cluttered enough for two, attached to the University’s established wing for notable scholars and graduates.

Watch as a bird lands outside his window, head bobbing as it moves to and fro along the sill.

You collapsed today, finally. You knew your leg would give out eventually, but just not where.

“How?” You ask him when the bird disappears behind the vents.

“Hextech.” He says, his brows furrowing. 

You recognize that name, and you know he knows this, too. It’s the technology he’d been working on in his laboratory for nearly a year now, that strange azure-colored stone that shone like a star, pulsed like the sun, and lashed out like a living thing.

Close your eyes and sink further into the bed. The comforter smells like Viktor and all his astringent body wash and odorless fabric softener. 

“Listen,” He begs. And you hate it when he begs. You hate it when someone like Viktor ever has to beg with someone like you. 

“Hextech has the potential to restore what the undercity did to us,” He speaks with a glimmer in his eye, urgency down turning his lips just a fraction, placing a slight stutter in his speech, “Not just for me, but… You, too.” 

When he speaks, he gestures to your leg under the white blankets, an odd lump now due to its placement above a pillow. He gestures to your chest, where under skin and fat and muscle lays your slow-beating heart, an organ that the undercity pollutants had eaten away at until it hammered an irregular rhythm into your body. And you get what he wants, but he doesn’t shy away from saying it aloud.

“It will work if the math is all correct, and I’ve run through it… Almost dozens of times.” He shakes his head, as if he, himself, is in disbelief at how many times he’s poured over the equations. “The council, the Professor, Jayce… They would never let me fuse with Hextech. But even if I cannot save myself, I can save you.”

The bird is back, trudging along the bustling skyline. You can see now that it is a crimson pigeon, its scarlet bust thrumming as it coos, coos, coos, turns yellow, turns violet, like a flickering flame.

You hear an edge in his voice, one that rings free of desperation and determination. It lilts his voice almost musically, tilts it upwards into an almost-question at the end of his sentences. A kind of keenness.

“Please. It will succeed. I just… Have to try it.”

You let it sit in the air for a whole, let it grow stale. You wonder if he knows what he is asking of you. You wonder if he knows what he is promising you. 

The look on his face says he does, he does.

“You think Hextech can save me, Viktor?” You ask. You think you can save me, you wanted to ask.

“I know I can.” Maybe a slip of the tongue. Maybe not. But he reaches for your hand anyway.

The crimson pigeon takes flight, its batting wings beat against the glass pane and maybe it's not your heart that is making that sound in your ears.

You will never be able to refuse him.

V. 90

The first thing you do with your new leg is dance.

In the lab, before Viktor and the Hexcore, you begin by skipping in a circle, then spinning, then before you know it you are going from foot to foot and laughing, hard.

You don’t know when this happens, but Viktor is soon out of his chair, spinning you.

There is no music. There does not have to be. In this moment, it is you and him, together, on the path to a better life. 

But you are not sure what comes first, him falling, or you trying to catch him. He doesn’t seem to know this either, and you think that may hurt him more.

When he’s on the floor, you are stopped from helping him by a single waving hand, dismissing you. The other one reaches for his cane, and he fumbles with it for one, two, seconds before he is back on his feet.

“Are you okay?” You ask, immediately flitting to his side. 

He flinches at your newfound speed and this makes you hesitate, and this makes him turn from you.

“I…” He coughs into a closed fist, trying hard to keep an even breath and failing. This only frustrates him more. “I am.” He says, finally. And he makes haste to sit back in his chair, leaning heavily on his cane.

At his proximity, the Hexcore trembles.

At his distance, you sink.

VI. 90

“Piltover is everything you could ever imagine. The clean air, the roadways, transportation, technology, potential!” 

He finishes his grand statement with a sweep of his hand, garnishing a pencil, across a gridded sheet, the page curled with moisture. The final stroke on something called an “airship” he had seen above, featuring a metal casing on the hull, as detailed in his notes.

“Something that only flies in open skies…” You say, tracing the divot of his words in the paper. “...I can’t imagine that in the undercity.”

Viktor gives a curt laugh, one of disbelief, one of an embezzled kind of hope. “Neither can I.” Then he places a thoughtful finger on his chin, shaking his head. Looks at you.

“Our future is up there.” He says, solemnly.

Yours, you think. 

And you wonder how big Piltover University is. How big Piltover is. If Viktor will grow to like its roominess, its blue skies, the airships dotting the clouds. If he will forget all about you.

Then he places his hands on your shoulders, and he is warm.

“Ours.” He says, a resoluteness in his voice.

And you throw back your head and laugh, because if you do not you are sure you will cry.

When he shows it to you first, you feel lightheaded, then sick, then you actually get sick.

You empty the contents of your stomach into a metal bin sitting near the edge of his workspace, and by the time you realize it is only full of papers and does not have a trash bag in it, it’s too late.

You don’t look up, but you see a vague reflection of him by the outer rim of the garbage bin, a smear of brown, maroon, and yellow.

He’s got a hand on your back, rubbing up and down the length of your spine, creasing then smoothing, creasing then smoothing your shirt under his calloused hand.

He still hasn’t put down the heart he’s holding, all sculpted from stainless steel, hued yellow and glinting gold in the old fluorescent lighting of the lab. Carries it carefully, balancing it just within your peripheral vision, probably accidentally.

When you catch sight of it again, that metal husk, made to fit around your heart like an armor, simulates pumping the way a heart should pump, the way yours doesn’t, you dry heave again. 

This time, nothing comes out. You don’t sit up.

“The idea is foreign, I understand. But this can help you live your life to its fullest. This is… Revolutionary.”

You wonder what that means, living life to its fullest. 

You think of Viktor and his leg and you. Did he not think his life was full, like that? You think of all the times your heart swelled and beat hard in your chest, how maybe, even then, your life was good, but was always underlined with could’ve been better.

“It won’t be just me, alone.” Viktor confesses, stooping low, so he can meet your eyes where you are. He pauses and doesn’t continue.

You squeeze your eyes closed, so hard that colors swirl behind your lids, magenta, indigo, purple, and pulse a headache into your temples.

“Who else?” You ask. You already know before he speaks.

He clears his throat before he speaks, “Singed.”

You try to get your bearings. Breathe in deep, the air in Piltover, as always, was crisp. Clean, and pure, and not fatal, fatalistic. 

You wonder if his science can explain this, if any amount of particles bouncing around can be stopped in time, counted and calculated to predict this future, to prevent it. 

Breathe in deep. Take in how the tiles under your shoes shine with a champagne color, the shade richer and more luminous than any coin that you’ve seen and used in the undercity.

Viktor shifts to sit back up and the motion throws an obnoxious gleam on the artificial heart, lighting his hands an opalescent purple hue, catching on one of the horrible, minuscule electric threads meant to embed into your muscle. You imagine it squelching around your heart. 

Wrap your arms around yourself to stop the chill from settling in.

Know what will happen, even before it does.

—

VII. 90

Back then, Viktor went away every other afternoon for a while, until he didn’t.

Back then, he’d used to come back, his fingers stained purple with some shimmering wildflower, until he didn’t.

And when he stopped, he didn’t talk about why he did until he was ready to.

“She was a mutation named Rio.” He said to you suddenly one day, while you were both overlooking the undercity from a rot-eaten rooftop. You stilled. Listened to his voice quiver.

“I thought he loved her. He fed her. Kept her well, and alive. He let me touch her, she was sick, but happy.”

He picked at a shingle from the roof, which came away into his hands easily. The shingle shone bright red, with rust, a tangerine hue of rust biting into the edges. He tossed it into the empty alleyway below. You hold your breath and hear it bounce from surface to surface before it clinks onto the floor, distantly.

You think about being sick and happy all the time.

Viktor continues, putting his fingers, intertwined, on his lap.

“But one day he had her in a… Tank. And she was in a solution to keep her alive. Only, alive. ” 

He turns to you.

“Promise me something,” He holds out his pinky finger, a sickly pale color, and you can almost still see the indigo stain on the pad of it. But you blink, and it’s gone. “Promise me that you’ll stop me before I get that bad.”

You watch his pinky finger, presented level with your hearts, how shakes with fear for the future, how stills with conviction.

“How will I know?” You ask. And he responds without missing a beat, as if he knew you’d ask. He probably did, because that was just who he was.

“If I ever put living above livelihood.”

You laugh at the face he was making, so serious about his undone crime, and push down his pinky promise.

“Viktor, you would never.”

“But– Promise me you will! If I do!”

You look at him, really look at him. See how his lower lip juts out, trembling slightly, how his eyes gleam with a fresh sheen of wetness. And in that moment, you think that nothing will ever change him, or you, or anything between you. 

“You won’t. I know it.” Your fingers find a shingle and tear.

—

The heart doesn’t beat as much as it pulses inside you, now. 

When you put your hand over it, it sounds like this:

“You’d never, you’d never, you’d never.”

VIII. 270

Viktor has been sicker than usual, and you know this because he refuses to see you, even for a little while.

Though you’ve stopped seeing him, you’ve noticed him everywhere in the way the world has lost its hue.

IX: 270

A student at Piltover University has died, and the news reaches you by word of idle undercity chatter. 

It has been months since Viktor has last seen you, and you grow more and more tireless yet. When this shred of information falls into your lap, a sting of alarm pierces your psyche like a hot needle.

You dial him two times and hear it ring before you stop at the third, after the line cuts straight to a dial tone. 

A sigh of relief.

You sit by the sea, on the dock at sunrise. Watch the white of the sun bleach the sky azure.

Water comes and water goes. But it all looks like the same stretch of blue to you. 

Your fingers curl around the edge of the boardwalk and the moist wood is studded with barnacles, which you pick at half-heartedly, just for something to do.

In just the past hour you’ve been sitting here, you’ve heard the topsiders mention the Piltover University death dozens of times. An assistant girl, her name Skye, bright young woman, full of potential.

You’ve seen flowers and gifts of condolence carted past you, off cargo ships in bunches and delivered to the direction of the school.

Your leather shoes are beside you, still half a size too big, now patched with charcoal rubber gum.

You suppose you’ve been blindsided to Piltover University’s prestigious attending class. Most were from rich families and bright futures, irregardless of where they would attend school. Students from places like Viktor, hopeless places, tended to fall through the cracks, unnoticed.

You swing your legs a little, letting the toe of your enhanced foot just barely skim the surface of the water, feel it surge every time it gets too close to the sea– or maybe it's only your imagination.

You think about Skye, about who she was, what she was doing, who she loved.

See the white seafroth spell out words that you can read for a second before it is gone.

Viktor. Viktor. Viktor. Every word says this, and it makes you dizzy.

Feel the breeze wash over you, salty and sweet. Feel your heart throbbing inside you, every milisecond of a thump calculated and executed with painstaking perfection. 

Are you sick anymore, then, you wonder?

You know the answer is no, technically. But you feel that the answer is yes, figuratively.

Place a hand over your heart and stare out, over the horizon, far into the blue, deep blue. And even when you close your eyes, you can’t erase the hue, it’s just colored over.

X: 180

You end up by the harbor again, on the sand at dawn, when the water is near green.

Every beat of your heart reminds you of change and it pains you more than any ailment you have ever suffered.

You wonder where Rio is now, if she is still alive. If she should be.

Don’t really think when you feel the tides lap at your shoes.

Don’t think as it fills it with water and loggs your socks with salt and sand grains, except for maybe how light it feels to be in the water again, after spending so much of your life unable to swim.

Tread deeper. Feel the Hextech in your leg vibrate to life, feel your heart do the same.

Close your eyes and imagine how Viktor is doing. What he is doing now, if he is asleep, if he is studying, scratching glyphs into paper with a charcoal pencil, if maybe he’s eased his pain with Hextech, like he had done for you, if Heimerdinger knew, if Jayce did.

The water sloshes by your knees, cold at first, then warmer as you grow immune to the bite.

You think back as far as you can remember, wonder if this is what death of self feels like– unravelling yourself back into a spool that cannot go any further.

You remember a pale wooden matchstick with a reddish-pink tip. Remember him holding it between his thumb and index finger, a quirk tipping his lips upward into a grin.

“This is the solution to all of our problems.” He had said.

Waist deep in the water, you feel the water pushing back against your body, pressing you back to the shore. 

The chill settles into your bones, makes it hard to keep going, but the adamantine leg glints at you from beneath the water, hammers, hard, under your ribcage. These things do not struggle, and that is what keeps you going. 

Dig your heels in, kick off the sand and dive into the water. 

“How is that going to fix anything?” You asked.

Under the water, your vision goes dark and a numbing rumble overtakes your hearing, flooding your ears with a deep gurgling. 

Within it, you can feel the pulse of your heart, first the organic beat, then the synthetic one. Ba dum dum, ba dum dum, ba dum dum.

“Not just anything. Everything.” He motions to the world around you, clogged with purple and grey smog at every turn and you turn to look, imagine cleansing the undercity of illness, debris, crime, and the harrowing desperation that haunts like a ghost. In the depths of your imaginings, you miss how, also, he gestures you and to himself. 

“Do you know what entropy is?”

You emerge for air when you can no longer keep yourself under. 

Break the surface and gasp, gasp, up at clementine sky, up at the low-hanging moon, lined up amongst the rising sun. 

“Entropy?”

The water pulls you under mid-breath. When all goes from a hazy dawn-hued yellow to a dark shroud, you swallow a mouthful of sea brine. Feel that the leg and heart still bind to you, resolutely and let yourself sink.

“It’s change.”

The water swallows you whole. Under the waves, past the fight, letting go comes easy, after all.

A set of hands grabbing you, pulling you to shore, shaking sense into you. What were you doing, what were you doing, they ask. 

Then they hold you, press you firm to themselves, as if you were sand through the sieve, so small and so prone to slipping. 

You imagine this, and imagine this still, as you float down, the sea rocks you back and forth as you descend, as if to sway you to sleep.

You can see him, now, under the ocean. See his face in the waves, breaking with light above you. 

Watch as he presses a matchstick to the wall and drags it along the rocky surface, watch as time seems to slow down, as you see the match bend under pressure, catch a spark against the limestone, then come away, red and ablaze, in Viktor’s hands.

“Entropy, irreversible change.”

When the sun breaks the horizon in tiny strips of light, you are alone and awash on the shore, half submerged in the water, on your hands and knees, gagging on the sea and oxygen. Collapse there. 

The sky is red, alight, and searing hot all around you. 

Water envelopes you in a teal puddle, coming and going with the waves. 

Washes away that fiery feeling in your limbs, in your leg, in your lungs, and still drumming heart. 

Washes away that fire, that fire, smoldering it, as it smokes and sputters, that fire, now only ash.

Putting it out does not reverse it, and you know this. 

Feel the sea kiss at your palms, turned downwards into sand and stones and shells. See how it shifts the world below you, little by little, one tiny tide at a time. 

And on that shore, leg intact, heart intact, you are alive. 

Only, alive. 

And love has changed you, irreversibly.

[mosneakers]

After tenderly tucking their two darling daughters safely into their warm and cozy beds, Agnes and Erik retire to the master bedroom, preparing to turn in for the night. A bittersweet image is reflected from the luxurious vanity mirror. With each delicate stroke of Agnes's ornate bronze hair brush, her silky golden locks unveil brief glimpses of a hidden frown.

Coraleye beams in awe, watching Agnes's reflection in the mirror. Coraleye: Grandma, you're the epitome of grace and beauty. Look at you! Agnes: [Gently nudges Corarleye with her elbow] Oh quit that, will you.

Coraleye's smile starts to fade. Coraleye: But you look so sad. Even after getting to move back to your home in Sunset Valley? You really weren't excited about having a third baby at this point, were you?

Agnes: I didn't want to be expecting, no. I least I thought I didn't, anyway. Until this night, when I found out I wasn't. That's when the truth was realized.

Coraleye: Oh...

Erik: Aggy, baby, what is it? I thought you didn't want any more kids right now. I figured you'd be glad about your monthly visitor.

Agnes: [Sniffles] I thought so too, darling. I suppose I allowed myself to become excited about the idea. Turns out I'm actually quite disappointed, if I'm being perfectly honest.

Erik continues offering solace to his wife, urging her to confide in him. The spirit of Agnes guiding Coraleye approaches Erik, studying the remaining youth in his features. She gently rests her hand on his chest; though Erik cannot feel her touch, the emotional resonance of the exchange hits Coraleye like a wave, as she wraps her arms around herself in an attempt to hold herself together.

Agnes: He's so young here; What has time done to you, my love? Coraleye, darling, life is awfully short. I want you to always remember, to hold onto your memories and all your heart's desires for as long as you can, and never make the mistake of not listening to them. One day you'll blink, and your memory won't be like it is now.

Coraleye's trembling frown gives way, and tears drop down her rosy cheeks, unable to contain them any longer.

Erik puts on a record, and the vintage melody fills the room. By her hands, Erik leads Agnes to her feet, where he gently wipes the tears from her face. Erik: Let's dance, honey.

Agnes: [Giggles] Erik! What are you doing? It's getting late, we should get to bed. Erik: Aggy baby, if you want a baby, then I've got work to do! We'll figure out the details later, okay? Agnes laughs joyfully as Erik pulls her in closer for a slow dance.

The spirit-guide Agnes smiles at her great-granddaughter lovingly. Her brows furrow as her focus then hones in on Coraleye's tears, still flowing. She gently wipes away a tear and whispers words of comfort.

Agnes: What's the matter, my love?

Coraleye: [Sniffles and wipes eyes] It's just... you two are so incredibly sweet. The love you share is so obvious. The way he looks at you, Grandma! I'm so scared my future won't measure up to yours, or my parents', even. I worry that I'm falling short of the legacy and everything else.

Agnes: Oh, honey... listen to me. Agnes affectionately traces Coraleye's hair behind her ear.

Agnes: You don't have to go about this in the same manner that we did! Forge your own path, dear. The essence of this legacy lies in granting second chances to someone we love, provided they're deemed worthy. It's a profound responsibility for one heart. Understand, the journey won't be simple should you decide to embrace it. Coraleye: ...Should I decide to embrace it.

Agnes: I share this with you not to instill fear, but to equip you for the challenges that lie ahead. Soon, my dear, you'll face a profound pain that may feel insurmountable. Yet, I know you are very capable of weathering it.

Coraleye: [Concerned tone] Grandma, how do you know this? Are you able to see the future? Agnes: The privilege of magic and resurrections isn't taken lightly, and it doesn't come without consequences. Our currency for second chances and love is excruciating pain. Some may see it as a curse, but I find it makes these tender moments all the sweeter. The choice of who is worthy of navigating this journey by your side, is ultimately up to you.

Coraleye: But Grandma... How will I know who that person is? That they can be trusted?

Agnes: You see the way your grandfather looks at me in this moment? That's how I knew, honey. Coraleye ponders for a brief moment, watching them dance gleefully around the room. As their kisses grow more passionate, she senses that her time to observe is running out. Just before the spirit Agnes concludes the session, Coraleye speaks up, her voice breaking.

Coraleye: I... I think I've seen that look before.

[findafight]

That's vaapad. Is the first thing Dustin thinks, barely registering that the one dropped into a defensive stance, indigo 'sabre held tightly, is Steve.

Spacer Steve. Cocky, charming, snarky, kind, jaded, force-null Steve. Holding a lightsaber the colour of Illium's sky just past sunset, when it turns from dusk to night, stars flickering on, Steve is furiously stabbing and slashing at Vader in a way few know how to.

Because Vaapad was Master Windu's form, one he partially invented. One that very few had the control and discipline to practice without slipping too far into the Dark. Dustin had only seen Master Windu in exhibition duels, not full combat. It's very different when it's real, Dustin thinks.

Beside Steve, complimenting every move with synchronicity that comes from only the deepest and sacred of trust, is Robin. Robin who is a bit clumsy and doesn't like blasters, who drifts off in her own world sometimes, who's hands flutter whenever they feel. Where his is the cusp of night, Robin's saber is a brilliant sunrise orange, a blur as she pushes into Vader's defenses.

"go!" Steve yells, his focus slipping for a moment enough that Vader knocks his weapon from his hands. Dustin cannot move, cannot feel the tugging of Lucas on his jacket, or Mike shaking his shoulders.

Until they found El, who had barely escaped years of inquisitor conditioning, he had been alone. Had thought himself one of the only Jedi left. He had told Steve and Robin this, and they had looked at each other for a long moment. Steve had said "we are no Jedi, but we will protect you."

But he'd lied. They were Jedi, now facing down a sith.

Robin throws her own 'sabre to Steve even as she pulls his to her hand. They wield the blades as naturally as their own.

"RUN, NOW!"

Steve doesn't look away from Vader, but releases the double grip he has and throws his hand toward them, an invisible shove that pushes them all back to the door. To the shuttle. To safety.

Someone pushes Dustin away from the doors, and he watches as Vader raises his first in tandem with Robin's feet lifting off the ground. Steve is clutching his leg even as he reaches towards her.

The doors close.

Dustin doesn't realize he's screaming until Erica slaps her hands to his cheeks and forces him to look at her. "You need to pull it together. It's not gonna help them if we just get caught now."

He nods. Mike warns them to strap in for the jump to hyperspace. The jolt barely registers over his shaking.

"hey, man. How...uh. how are you doing?" Lucas's voice is softer, max standing behind him, clutching his hand so hard his fingers are squished together.

All he can gasp out is "why didn't they tell me?"

The rest are silent for a moment. It's a betrayal, this secret Robin and Steve kept. Dustin has been alone, for so long. He wanted to be close to his lost culture, to the people that are now few and far between, scattered in the stars and hiding. Why would they deny who they were? Their own People? When they could have taught him so much, revived something thought lost.

Gently, Lucas sits down, pulling Max beside him, and weaves his fingers between Dustin's trembling ones. They sit together for a long time.

Eventually, Lucas swallows loudly.

"I think..." Lucas, Dustin realizes, has been shaking too. They have all watched their friends, people who they love and have spent so much time with, sacrifice themselves to protect them all from the Emperor's guard dog. "I think that they were protecting us, by not saying anything."

"what?"

"Dustin. They're in their twenties. They probably fought in the Clone Wars. I just. I don't think they lied, really, about themselves."

Dustin rears back. "they said they weren't Jedi! That's a lie!"

Erica stirs, from Dustin's other side. He hadn't realized she was holding him.

"maybe it's not to them. Maybe...maybe they think of themselves as people who used to be Jedi. But aren't anymore. Maybe that's how they dealt with the war."

"but..." Dustin has never considered himself anything other than a Jedi, cannot comprehend shrugging it off even in the face of the Empire. "But why?"

Max, who has been silent, sniffs. "Because everything else they said was true." Mike, who retired from the cockpit Will and joined their cuddling hums questioningly.

She sighs. "Steve fell in love during the war, and planned a future raising little babies with whoever it was. Robin had a grand romance that was never meant to be with a politician or something. They've known each other since they were small."

"just now, we know they were doing that while fighting the Separatists." Lucas said.

"exactly. Think about it. I don't know who Steve could have fallen in love with, but... Mike. Didn't your sister have to work with a Jedi Padawan a few years before the Clone Wars? Didn't you say she got...weird? After? Robin was always weird about your last name..."

Mike goes stuff, even as Dustin barely registers anything about his sister, focusing on who Steve could have loved. A horrible, horrible possibility comes to mind that makes too much sense for how sad, heartbroken, confused Steve was about the "break up".

"oh stars." Says Mike. "Robin was the Jedi Nancy fell in love with before she fell for Jonathan. Oh no. She even said the Jedi had an orange 'sabre. Holy kark!"

Dustin sobs. Erica presses her face into his shoulder.

"Steve fell in love with a Clone." Bursts from his lips.

"what?" There's an overlap of voices. Shock, horror, confusion mixed together.

He shrugs. "It's the only thing that makes sense. Max, remember when he told us? About when they decided to be together? He said his--his love" and Dustin doesn't know if he says it as a dirty thing because the Clone troopers killed his family, or because Jedi very rarely had romantic relationships and he was still too young to understand the complexities of them for Jedi, or something else entirely. "Wanted to raise his little brothers. Protect them. Steve wanted...well I guess he must've wanted to be a creche master. They wanted to do it together. In the temple, at home."

Max joins. "He said That they'd spent a long time working together with his Ma, so--oh kriff, his force damned Master! That has to be it, right Dustin? That's like a parent for Jedi right? He...Steve said he watched her die. Watched...watched his lover die."

They are all silent, for a moment.

"do you think...do you think Steve had to kill him?" Mike asks, when only the rumble of hyperspeed fills the space.

Max counters with "Robin said she was on Coruscant when the Republic fell. What do you think she had to do? What she saw?" Dustin knows. Dustin saw the hallways. Saw the men in white armour who they all thought were friends massacre them in their home, led by some sith apprentice.

"I think they did what they had to to keep each other alive." Will says.

No one can argue with that.

Original post

[ghostieeeee]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟗: 𝐂𝐀𝐊𝐄?

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: possibly spelling errors :D

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

Golden glowing light bulbs hue the place with sunset blooms, stainless wooden tables adorn the sun-kissed lighting as if it were a picasso painting, and the ambience resembled that of a warm autumn evening.

The restaurant mirrored the outside world at this hour, reflecting the calm nature of everyone's worn energy as it pours with a delicate rain. No one seems to survive a day's worth of work anymore. People instead cower after long shifts, hiding away their vulnerabilities as they regenerate their strength for the next day.

The streets were particularly derelict at the approaching of half-four. Even the roads- that are mostly packed for the day- seem to have gone silent in the downpour of rain.

You haven't been sitting for long- a mere three minutes at most- when the shop's door opens and a familiar female comes squeezing through in a puffy coat, her hood drawn to her eyebrows as she scrunches her face, skin decorated in small dollops of the skys water.

The patient tapping of fingernails against wood fills the small pocket of silence you've surrounded yourself in as you watch Yunjin track you down. Her head spun in circles as she struggles to see through her rain stained glasses, but eventually, she does see you, and a wide smile graces her features instantly.

"Sorry, I tried to get here as fast as I could," she huffs, sounding almost out of breath as she takes a seat opposite you on a cushioned seat. You chose a booth over a table. Something about it just made more sense.

"You're not late-" you pause to check your phone, which had been facing down on the table up until now- "you're actually just on time"

Yunjin smiles. "Oh, that's great news. How long have you been waiting?"

"A few minutes," you speak, watching as the girl unsheathes herself from the warm confines of her thick coat. It almost looked heavy with the way it sags against the edge of the booth, now hanging from the corner piece of the seat "give or take"

"I'm glad I didn't keep you waiting then" Yunjin finally looks up to you, her eyes greeting yours as you share a smile. "How was your class?"

"Ahh…" you begin, your mind screwing into the memories from just a few hours ago. A cold man's finger almost runs up your spine as the battering of your teacher's voice still echoes on in your skull. "It was alright" you almost wince at your lie. The only part that was alright about the class was leaving at the end- but even then everyone basically fought to get out first.

"Just alright?" She raises an eyebrow, her hands coming to clash each other on the table as she now provides you with her undivided attention.

"I mean- what more can you expect from law?" It was abrupt, the way Yunjin almost coughed at your words with her hands moving to clasp her mouth- her eyes wide.

"Law?"

"Yes, law" you playfully roll your eyes at her mimicked remark.

"I'm sorry, but that doesn't really…" she trails off, her mind clearly pondering her next words "...that doesn't seem like a you thing to pick. No offence!"

"None taken," you laugh,"It wasn't my choice- but at the same time it was," you play with the tone in your voice, almost spinning the words on air. "My parents wanted me to pick something they deemed as professional. They basically gave me a list of what I could and couldn't be"

"What were the other options?"

"I don't remember them all, but there was definitely law, economics, engineering, health care.... some others? Honestly, I swear they just picked the most boring classes to see me suffer"

Yunjin gives a laugh to your frustrations,"parents shouldn't control us our whole lives, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." You sigh

"Should we order now?"

You break a small grin at her words, feeling your stomach churn at the lack of food- even if this is just a small snack- because at least this will carry you till dinner. "Please"

"I'll go up and order. What do you want?"

You take a second to ponder, turning to view the assortments of cakes shown within the glass display cases. Colours bloom with a ripe shine, strawberries glistening under the bright ceiling lights. Pigments of all sorts lick the sponge in their icing forms, priming and pricing the in-store made treats to an all-time high.

You nod, finally giving Yunjin your order after having been caught on a cake that stood out the most.

"Gotcha, I'll be right back," she taps the table with her ring adorned hand. The metals of her band rings cause a slightly uncushioned screech as she drags them slightly across the wooden table.

It hadn't taken long for Yunjin to return at all, and when she did return, her hands were occupied with the bought food and drinks.

"This is what you wanted, right?" Yunjin speaks with a hint of need, her voice seeming almost different from her normal relaxed and confident tone. It was strange but easily missable- as your ears ignored the subtle change.

You peered at the rather large slice of cake, the sponge already looking deliciously delicate- as if it could tear at the simplest breeze or crumble at the expense of a gentle sound wave. It's a fragile architecture, one of mostly eggs, flour, and milk, and yet, it holds up the weight of pressure.

"Yeah, it is. Thank you." You offer Yunjin a kind smile, noting the correct order with ease. To this, Yunjin releases a heavy breath, her shoulders slightly faltering in posture as she relaxes into the chair, a grateful grin plastered to her face.

"You okay there?" You ask, having noticed her newly slouched position however.

"Me?" Yunjin pauses to point at herself with her hand half cupped. "I'm good. It just feels nice to finally get a chance to relax"

"Tell me about it," you chuckle, laughing lightly as her head makes contact with the cushioned booth, letting a small sigh fall from her lips.

Yunjin takes a moment of silence before breaking out with a gentle smile,"I've been helping Dahyun for the last few hours, that was probably the most tiring part, but that's only because she accidentally dislodged half of the keyboard's keys"

"Pardon?" You ask, sounding half in disbelief as your eyebrows ever so slightly raise above their resting position.

"Oh- right-" she awkwardly chuckles,"Dahyun is my friend, and an extremely aggressive keyboard player"

"I understand," you smile, separating a piece of your cake before taking a bite. The moistened sponge tickles your tongue, feeling almost right at home like a family reunion. "Is she the person you helped yesterday?"

"Yeah," Yunjin bops her head, taking a bite out of her own order. It's almost hard to ignore how she closes her eyes for a brief moment to savour the bliss.

"How was the rest of your day?" You squeeze an easy question in, observing the taller girl as she swallows her mouthful before opening her mouth to respond. "It was alright, though I'm a bit disappointed my teacher won't let me take his lessons from my dorm"

"Why would you want to take them from your dorm?" You inquire, furrowing your eyebrows slightly.

"I have a small recording booth for me and my friends back at my dorm, it would make learning so much easier for practical projects" You let out a small string of "ohs," taking another bite of your paid food. "Obviously, I'd come in for lessons that require me to be there in person but…" she sighs,"it would make more sense for me to use the equipment I have at the dorm"

"You have a recording booth… at your dorm?"

"Yeah," she grins. "Rosie, another friend of mine, her parents were kind enough to purchase one for our dorm"

"That was kind of them"

"It really was, it helps us explore with music more" she pauses, taking a second or so to think something over before she opens her mouth again "would you like to come over and see it?"

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

: A new college means new faces, and although you already have a set of friends to hang out with, you can't help but be drawn to the two campus heartthrobs... and they can't help but be drawn to you too...

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: [𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍]

@cosettesrants @havex00 @lesleepyyy @i06kkura @luvjanexx @jeindall777

@xen-16 @sewiouslyz @verdanst

[andromeda-nova-writing]

You and Me, Mercy in Between

Vampire! Ayato x Fem! Witch! Reader

Summary: Sleep is a precious thing and Y/N misses it. You know those times when you are so tired that your thoughts go all over the place and get a little too much to handle? Ayato is great at leading Y/N's brain into something that's too much for her with such a lack of sleep. Luckily he's also smart enough to know when to stop pushing someone so far especially when likes their company.

A prequel fic for Willingly Within Your Grasp. You can read this in any order for now

Words: 2,304

AN: Everyone thank @milkstore for keeping my brain rot going through this au and editing/reviewing this fic. Also for naming this fic. I have so many ideas and lore I've come up with for this au. I just have so many thoughts about this au. There's so much I want to expand on to the point I started writing the third part already.

This fic is T-rated. Typical vampire behavior. Mentions of blood and animal death. Mentions of main character death with none occurring

It had been a long week for Y/N. She had never been a big festival person before. It didn't help this week was ending with Ayaka accidentally touching some silver earrings cause she thought they would be a nice gift for Y/N. She was lucky Thoma was with her for quick damage control. Even then casting a spell changing someone's memory of the incident sucked. It was her least favorite part of the job.

First came finding out exactly who and everyone who may have witnessed the incident. Then came the disguise spell so not a soul would know who she was. Finally the memory shift. It sucked to do and sucked to have happened. The things she would do for the Kamisato clan.

In came the knock at her door. Did no one read the do not disturb sign? She only put it up for important potion-making. Even though she was lying on the bed trying to get any bit of rest before she had to actually get up and work. A second knock at the door.

"Who is it?" She yelled. "I'm busy at the moment." An understandable lie with the lack of sleep she had over the week.

"It's me. Can I come in real quick?" Thoma asked gently.

She sat up. "Come in." She pulled a blanket around her body. Her sleep schedule was so ruined it was going to mess up her brain.

He came in, took one look at her, and winced.

Y/N frowned. "Thanks for the confidence boost. Needed that."

"Sorry. Lord Kamisato requested your presence. We also are low on blood. You are going to have to make the blood replacements again." The apology in his voice was just too evident as he spoke clearly feeling sorry about having to give her more tasks.

"How far off are you from learning those incantations?"

He laughed awkwardly. "The pronunciation is still confusing me. I could always go fishing if that helps."

"That would. I appreciate it." It was hard to remain upset at Thoma for interrupting her first break in a while. The fish fix wouldn't be perfect but it would help the situation out. "Tell him I'll be there soon."

"Will do." And with that, he left leaving her back into the darkness of her room.

Y/N got up and went over to move the blackout curtain to see what time of day it was. Sunset. Ayato couldn't have slept until actual nightfall for her sanity at least. She looked down at her bedclothes. It still looked like they were just put on. The wrinkles of sleep were deeply missed.

After throwing on a robe over clothes she made her way over to Ayato’s office. He would have to find a way to deal with the fact that she would be returning to her bed immediately after. She knocked on the door of his office before letting herself in.

“You wanted me?” As much as she found herself enjoying his presence, she hoped that this would be quick.

He didn't even look up from the mountain of paperwork in front of him. "How's the situation with jeweler?" 

"Dealt with along with everyone nearby who may have seen. Ayaka's hand should be fully healed by now. I should be checking on her soon." 

"Good. Have a drink sent my way. I've seem to find myself trapped in here once again."

"We are out. Thoma is out fishing to help offset our supply till we can manage to find something bigger. If you give me 10 minutes I can go make a blood substitute." It was already on her to-do list anyway. Sleep was not to be had after all. 

"How long has he been out?"

"Not long. You'll have to wait if you want something fresh."

He placed the pen in his hand down looking up at her. "Is there any way you can actually make that substitute taste good?"

"Afraid not. Any changes to its flavor profile would ruin its ability as a substitute."

"Any other options?"

"We've been over this." It was too early or was it too late for this? Either way, she did not have the appropriate amount of sleep in her system for this. "It's to be from an animal or the substitute. What happened last month was because there was nothing near us and I couldn't make a substitute."

"Details. So we are allowed to talk about it now?" 

"I never said that we could speak on it." She looked away from Ayato. She felt hyper-aware of her wrist. Just the mention of it made the memory feel like it just happened. When she blinked it was like she could see Ayato sinking his teeth in while looking directly at her eyes trying to gauge when to stop.

It was the only time she had let someone drink from her before and the first time he had human blood. Circumstances be damned at this point. For two people struggling to maintain some sort of professionalism, it was the most intimate they had been. And they loved every second of it.

It hadn't left Y/N’s mind. Any dreams she could recall had Ayato in them. What she would never tell him is how she imagined Ayato’s teeth on her neck. It was such a crude way to think about someone who was her boss. That and she couldn't believe that she was way more into such an act than she thought would ever be.

Everything anyone told her growing up was that vampires were dangerous. Blood suckers that only looked out for themselves. If she found herself in the company of one, it was kill or be killed. Maybe the information she got was biased. Her mother had been a hunter who got herself killed by a vampire when she was young. 

"Pity. Come sit with me while I wait." It was such a simple task he had asked of her. But knowing Ayato, there had to be something more.

"Where?" It wasn’t like there was a spot in the room where she could actually sit next to him as he worked.

"The desk. You could hand me my papers as I need them." He said with such a straight face.

She sighed not even having to ask if he was serious or not. "What happened to having me check on Ayaka?" 

"That can wait. She should be resting anyway. You should keep me company. Wouldn't it be best to keep an eye on a hungry vampire?" He teased.

Y/N went over to his desk and sat down holding the pile of papers on her lap as he requested. Professionalism be damned. She sighed, "If you really were a problem, it's not like I couldn't stop you. I could have you chained down within a minute. I was raised to do just that."

"That's how you would stop me. With chains?"

"My aunt, she took me under her wing. She introduced me to this world and taught me everything she and my mom knew. And that included killing vampires. I was only talking about ways to restrain you. Summoning chains is only one of the methods."

"And if that didn't work?"

"Seal off the room. Pray that I don't have to use other restraints. Could get painful." Too many of them involved fire. Too many methods risked so much. "I'd rather not talk about anything I'd have to do to you if I'd ever had to stop you."

"Why would that be?"

"If I can't restrain you and you are still a problem, all that's left is to kill you." She looked up at the ceiling. The silence of night making itself aware. "I would prefer not to have to take your life. Honestly, it would be quite heartbreaking."

"Hm." It wasn't every day that someone who had trained to kill a vampire found that exact task heartbreaking.

"I don't think I could face Ayaka and tell her. Knowing her, I would have to be ready to kill her as well. Probably Thoma as well. You all are just too close. You've been nothing but good to me. Don't make me think such things." It was hard to be strong within her words. "If it was anyone else I could do it. But you haven't killed anyone. Most vampires I have encountered have already become serial killers. You don't deserve that same fate."

All Ayato could do was listen. Maybe he had pushed too far. He only went as far as he normally would. Maybe her boundaries weren't to be tested while she was tired. She fought tears gracefully as she imagined a life he would be sure to make not happen. It made her feel sick. She traced symbols on the desk subconsciously completely unaware that she had begun casting a spell of deception upon her appearance.

"I see every spark of humanity within you every day. To think of a day where you've lost it becoming a monster must mean I've failed along the way. You, everyone around us, and myself. If I were to have that happen I think my whole view on vampires would crash on me."

"And what's that view?"

"To be taught every single vampire is a killer and then to take a chance thinking that maybe what I learned was wrong is right would just be the worst. And if were to fail to kill you then I’d be granting you a fate worse than death." If it wasn’t her who put a stop to it then someone else would come along after who knows how long with no mercy of the situation. Archons forbid it wasn’t anyone in the estate that would have to clean up the mess she would have left behind. 

Ayato was careful in moving the papers off of her lap back onto the desk to not interrupt what she was telling him.

“It would just be awful to have to kill the man I’ve been falling in love with for the better part of the year. Just saying that must I’ve compromised my ability to work here.”

He had stood up able to meet her eyes directly now. He grabbed onto the hand that had silently casting a spell stopping it from being performed. Her face had been stained with tears showing how deeply she had meant it when she said she had been falling in love with him. How intensely these thoughts and backup plans had killed her inside. Ayato brought a hand up to her face wiping away the tears he was unable to see before.

“It must be horrible to fall in love with me if I’ve already made you cry with these thoughts.”

“I made myself cry.”

“With things I shouldn’t ask you to think of.” 

“I would have to think of them by myself anyway.” She had been since she accepted this job offer that Thoma had brought along to her.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t?”

“If it makes you so upset, don’t think of it anymore.”

“It would be irresponsible. This is irresponsible.”

“Why don’t we just be a little irresponsible together for once?” It was a question that pushed away all formalities. To ignore all professionalism. It was better to ignore what was wrong and focus on what felt so right. Boundaries that had been set up right to fall with a single crash.

Soft kisses on a cheek turned into kissing away tears turned into kisses on the lips. Slow and sweet as if to make up for what had happened. Apologies without words were made before becoming promises to one another. Which managed to change yet again to something more passionate with hands running up and down each other begging to be closer to each other. Before finally stopping for air leaning foreheads against one another satisfied with the outcome.

“Are you any better?” Ayato’s voice was soft, and gentle almost if a pin would drop on the floor it would be too harsh against the ears.

“A bit,” She sighed. “I think I’m just exhausted.”

“Exhausted? We haven’t been working you that hard have we?”

Y/N leaned as far back as she could while being held. “I was running on 3 hours of sleep and as many 10-minute naps as I could throughout this week. I think my bags have bags.”

“I guess we should get you back to bed then.”

“What happened to wanting me to keep an eye on you?”

“You could have requested a day off. I would have given it to you.”

“I know but there were things that had to get done. There are things that have to get done now. I’m already up so I might as well do them.”

His face was filled with judgment. As overworked as he was even he knew better. “Maybe it would have been better for you to have checked on Ayaka first. She’d at least lecture you about this without sounding hypocritical.”

“You aren’t wrong about that. And if it isn't her who calls us out it's only a matter of time before Thoma plans something where you are forced to sit and relax.”

She laughed for the first time in a while. Letting the joys of life take over. “It is quite nice finding people who remind you of the value of taking a break.”

“Were you not one for breaks?”

She sighed. “They weren’t encouraged. My aunt, she was nice but she was always worried about our safety. I just pray you never meet her. She may think I'm not here of my own accord.”

“Don’t think of it for now. You did enough worrying over me today.” He took some steps back pulling Y/N off of the desk. “Let’s just get you back to bed for now.”

[specialagentlokitty]

Teen wolf x Reader - you’ll be okay

Hi, TW question Annon. In that case, could I please request a pack x suicidal reader where the reader keeps trying to keep their issues hidden, but the pack starts to notice, and during a fight, the reader gets hurt protecting Lydia (Readers older sister) and the pack come together to try help the reader and stay with the reader and support them and make them feel loved? Sorry for long request!!!! - Anon💜

TW: self harm, and negative thoughts

Sitting on the stairs, you were only half listening to whatever it was Scott and Derek were discussing. You were too busy running your thumb along your knuckles as you tried to ignore the thought in your head.

You looked around the room, and Lydia frowned at you, mouthing if you were okay and you nodded your head, giving her a small smile.

You felt someone sit next to you and looked up at Peter, looking down has he handed you his phone.

You just lied to your sister, why?

You furrowed your brows a little and cleared the message, typing your own before you handed it back to him.

I didn’t lie, and what’s with the texting?

He hummed a little bit, handing the phone back to you with a new message.

So the others can’t hear, I’m sure you don’t want them to hear me calling you out on your lie and bringing any attention to it. So, why are you lying?

Rolling your eyes at Peter, you began to type your next message and handed it over to him.

I’m not lying Peter, in fine. What’s it to you anyways? I thought the big bad wolf would’ve loved to cause me discomfort and make everyone worry.

Peter Chuckled a little, quickly typing out his response to you.

Fortunately for you, I find you tolerable. So let’s talk, because I can smell the sadness seeping from you. Either you tell me or I’m just going to follow you around until I figure it out, and I don’t think your sister would appreciate me breaking into your house.

Scoffing, you shook your head.

Break into my house Peter and I’ll shove a stick of mistletoe wrapped up in wolfsbane and mountain ash so far up your ass you’ll be able to taste it.

Peter chuckled again, putting his phone away as he nudged you with his shoulder.

“Don’t be so feisty, we both know I’d easily overpower you.”

“We both know I’d shove wolfsbane down your throat.”

You smirked a little and Peter grinned at you, patting your leg as he stood up.

“Seriously though, I meant it.” He whispered.

With that, he walked down the stairs to disrupt the meeting and you carried on sitting there, lost in your own thoughts.

You knew he’d be able to smell the sadness from you, you were shocked he hadn’t smelt the blood from last night, but maybe that’s because you drowned the wounds in alcohol rub.

Maybe he could smell it but chose to ignore it, you had no clue, but you knew you had to be more careful next time.

You had quickly lost interest in everything they were saying, so you stood up and made your way down the stairs and sat next to your sister.

“What’s up?” She whispered.

“I’m not feeling well I’m gonna head home, I’ll see you later yeah?”

She nodded her head and gave you a smile and a light hug before you said bye to everyone else.

They all frowned as they watched you leave, you never used to leave pack meetings, you would always stay, put forth ideas and help them plan.

Now they were lucky if you even interacted with anything they were saying during the meetings.

“What’s up with her?” Derek asked.

Everyone looked around at one another before shrugging.

Lydia couldn’t help but worry, she was seeing this decline both here and at home and it was worrying for her.

When she got home she made her way to your bedroom and let herself in, closing the door as she looked around.

Your curtains were open, letting the rays of sunset through, lighting up the messy space, and she could see you curled up underneath your quilt.

“(Y/N)?” Lydia asked softly.

You didn’t move, you made no noise to say that you had even heard her.

Walking over, Lydia knelt in front of your face and reached out, gently shaking your shoulder to try and wake you up.

“Hey wake up.”

You grumbled and pulled the quilt over your head.

“Five more minutes….”

Lydia laughed a little, pulling your quilt down as she smiled at you.

You gave her a small smile and sat up, wrapping your quilt tightly around you as you shuffled up to let her sit in the bed with you.

Lydia explained everything that happened in the pack meeting, and what was going down tonight and you nodded along as she told you.

“Where are we meeting them?”

“Just outside the place, is that okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll shower and get ready, can you find wherever I tossed the knife Alison’s dad gave me?”

“Yeah of course.”

She started to search around your room while you grabbed some clothes and headed to shower.

You seemed pumped about being able to get some of the action, and it made Lydia smiled, you definitely seemed a lot happier then what you were earlier that day.

You hid in your hiding spot and waited for cue before you jumped up and charged at one of the hunters.

It was an intense fight, and you managed to knock yours out and turned to see who needed help.

You locked eyes with Lydia and you didn’t even think, throwing your knife, it embedded itself into the hunters shoulder, and she pushed him away.

Kidding to a halt in front of Lydia, you barely managed to push her out of the way when a shot rang out.

Everything seemed so fast from that point.

You heard your sister scream, the werewolves roar, you dropped to your knees, hands covering your stomach as you coughed up some blood.

You felt someone gently pulled you back, and slowly your eyes met theirs.

“L..Lydia…”

“It’s.. it’s okay… it’s okay Melissa is coming.. okay?” She sobbed.

Peter was the next to drop by your side, taking your hand in his you could feel the pain leaving you body, hear him gasping for air through it.

“What’re your doing?!” Lydia yelled at him.

“I’m taking her pain!” He snapped back.

Scott, Derek and Issac sat next to Peter, taking turns in taking your pain as much as they could.

Alison and Stiles sat on either side of Lydia as she sobbed while holding you.

Alison took your hand, and she saw the bandages around your arm, she looked at the other one and saw the other bandages too, and the others must’ve seen it because they looked at her.

“Just stay awake…” stiles whispered.

“I..it’s okay…” you croaked out.

You were smiling, you were happy and it broke their hearts.

You wanted this, you wanted this to kill you and they knew you did.

“You’re gonna be okay…” Issac whispered to you.

“Yeah, you’ll be back on your feet in now time.” Scott smiled.

Truth be told none of them believed that they were saying, you were loosing so much blood, and they couldn’t even moved your in case it made it worse.

You took your hand from Alison and slowly reached up, placing your hand on Lydia’s arm as you smiled softly at her.

“It.. it’s okay…”

“It’s not okay you idiot! I can’t loose you!” She yelled back.

You kept your hand on her arms as you took a few depp breaths, you weren’t in pain thanks to the werewolves, but you knew you were loosing so much blood.

“We need you (Y/N), you’re the glue that holds this dysfunctional pack together…” Derek mumbled.

“Yeah, you’re the one that makes everything better.” Issac nodded.

“Without you this pack would fall apart.” Scott said.

You smiled a little more while they told you how much they needed you. They all loved you, you were like a sister to all of them.

It wasn’t long until Melissa came with EMTs, the sheriff not far behind and you were whisked away from them all.

They all raced towards the hospital, determined to sit there all day and all night until they knew you were okay

[natashawritesstuff]

“Y/N,” Kuroo calls just moments before you were about to leave. 

“Tetsu?” you ask, worried.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Now? Really?”

“Please.”

Kuroo took a deep breath before he spoke.  “I love you.”

Your eyes grew wide and your breath hitched. 

“I have loved you since the moment we met. When we were fourteen and I messed up that pass in my first game, you told me it was just one point I lost, and you said you bet I’d gain thousands. Since we had that group project and we were the only ones working on it together and while making the poster our hands touched and you didn’t move it until I did. And to this day I wish I didn’t move mine. I have loved you throughout high school, I loved you throughout college. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of you. Every time your name lights up my phone my heart skips a beat, and when we’re fighting and stop talking I feel like I can’t breathe. And I tried, I did, I tried so hard to keep it to myself, and watch you fall in love with someone else because I want you to be happy even if it’s not with me, but it’s breaking my heart. And I don’t think I can go another day without letting you know. So there is a chance, a slight chance that you even feel the same, please, Y/N, please.

You’re silent, for a very long time. It feels like agonizing hours as he watches your expressionless face stare back at him unchanging. 

You swallow before you whisper, “can I ask you something?”

“Yeah-yeah of course, anything.”

“Why…why did you wait until my wedding to say all of this?” you ask, voice breaking. 

“I had to tell you before it was too late.”

“You are too late. You are ten years too late, Kuroo. The time to tell me this has passed. The time to tell me this would have been when we were fourteen, in that chem’ class. Or when our hands touched in that project. Maybe even when I left for college before I met him! Not fifteen minutes before I walk down the aisle!”

“Y/N-”

“No, what the hell is wrong with you? I am getting married, and I have been with him for four years and you think I’m just going to run off in the sunset with you? This isn’t a fucking movie it’s my life and after this, I don’t want you in it. You were supposed to be my best friend.”

“I am your best friend.”

“No, no you’re not. You’re a guy who I thought I knew. But really you just spent years pretending to be friends with me waiting for the right moment to get his dick wet,” you spit and take a deep breath as you adjust your dress and fix your hair. “I want you to leave.”

“Please-”

“Go.”

And he did. Later witnessing your first dance from a picture Bokuto took and posted on his Instagram. He couldn’t lie, you looked happy. Happier than when he left and happier than he’d ever seen. He wonders if maybe he wasn’t too late. Would he be the one dancing with you until the band stopped playing? Would he be the one to see your soft smile before you go to sleep? Would he adorn a ring on his left hand that matched yours? A million realities race through his mind but at the end of the night, his heart aches because the only reality that you could ever be his, even as a friend, is a reality that doesn’t exist.

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[ripdragonbeans]

On Monday - Part 1

ModernAemond x FemReader

Warnings: none really.

"Hel, wait up!" You laughed as you ran after your friend.

"No, you can catch up!" Called back Helaena.

Helaena had found a moat beautiful sunset moth and was absolutely dead set on catching it, if even for just a little bit. She finally slowed down to creep closer to the moth and crouched down to admire it. You caught up to her but kept your distance knowing that your harsh breathing would probably scare the creature away. Helaena gently guided the moth to her hand and brought the small one up to you.

"Look at her! Isn't she just beautiful?" Helaena wondered out loud. "All her colors, her little fuzz, everything."

You leaned down towards the creature and smiled. "Yes, Hel. She's absolutely gorgeous.

Helaena smiled at you before gently releasing the beautiful sunset moth. She gazed up at it, almost in a daze, when she remembered that you were with her as well.

"Shoot, Y/N it's getting late and we gotta finish that project!" Helaena cocked her head and gently tapped it as though she was coaxing a thought to the front.

The sky was slowly getting becoming a purple orange as the sun began to set.

"Why don't you just spend the night at my apartment? That way we can still hang out and actually get some work done."

You laughed at her little joke. "Of course! Let's get going."

The two of you linked arms as you made your way off campus and to her apartment. Despite being friends since freshman year, you've never actually been to her apartment before. Helaena told you she just preferred to be on campus basking in the sunlight and hanging in the quad with her friends. As an entomology major it did help to be on campus more often for the labs she frequently had to do.

As you two walked, you talked about everything and nothing at all. Pretty soon you looked up and saw the apartment, a fairly big apartment. Your mouth fell open in amazement. Everything was so sleek and modern, and that was just the exterior.

You felt a slight pull on your arm. "Come on, girl! I know it's a bit intimidating, and if it makes you feel better I miss living in my childhood home. Way more plants and much more inviting, if you ask me, but I promise you the inside is really chill." Helaena shook her head slightly and chucked. "Well, as chill as it can be living with my two brothers. They can get a little…heated at times, but I think you’d get along with Aemond,” giving you a knowing glance.

"Oh, I didn't know you had brothers! I mean, I knew you had brothers but I didn't know you lived with them," you squeezed out. You deliberately ignored her suggestion of her brother to you.

It wasn't a lie. You knew Helaena had brothers but you had no idea what they looked like and absolutely didn't know that they shared her apartment as well. They were simply little thoughts that have never been important enough to question and bring to life until now. Well, at least one of them was. All you ever really heard about in a positive way was Aemond. He piqued your interest, even if you only knew him as Helaena’s brother.

Helaena tugged your arm a little harder, giving you no choice but to follow her. As you neared the door you couldn’t help but take in every little detail. The delicate carvings on the walls created a beautiful texture that shone brightly against the dark grey paneling. Before Helaena could unlock the door it opened up to reveal the same silver blond hair as Helaena’s.

The guy looked you up and down with no shame and no attempt to hide his action. A mischievous smile tugged at his lips.

“Well, hello there,” he drawled.

“Hey, Aegon! This is my friend Y/N and she’s gonna be spending the night with us. We have a project to work on so don’t mind us,” Helaena explained.

“Spending the night, huh?” Aegon’s smile has definitely made his way to his face now. “I’ll be around, don’t hesitate to call me if you want some more…company.”

Aegon gave you a little wink before moving out of the doorway to let you two in. He was attractive, you gave him that much. He gave you sneaky vibes, like someone you know would get the both of you in trouble if you decided to become friends with him. Aegon looked like he was on a prowl and his wink and smile solidified that assumption.

As you walked through the threshold, your breath got caught in your throat yet again. The exterior of the apartment was stunning and the interior was no less beautiful. Unlike outside, everything inside the apartment seemed to hold a story, some old and some new. Pictures decorated the wall along with what looked like religious icons and stars.

You could hear some noise coming from a room nearby and you were a little relieved when Helaena led you that way. You met the first brother and were now nervous about the second. Helaena has been suggestive about you and her brother getting to know each other better, maybe something even more than that. Your hands felt a little clammy as you entered the living room. The Planet Suite played softly in the back.

Helaena called out to her second brother. “Aemond? I know you’re here. I want you to meet my friend, Y/N!”

Soon enough a tall, lanky body stepped out of the hallway, looking a little annoyed but softened at the sight of his sister.

“Yeah, Hel?” Aemond asked as he leaned against the wall.

“Just wanted to introduce you to Y/N! She’ll be staying the night and I just wanted to let you know,” she smiled at her brother.

Aemond looked at you and you felt your heart quicken. He was beautiful. He had a violet eye and what looked like a shining blue gem in place of the other with an aggressive scar passing through it. His silver hair was pulled up in a half bun while the rest of his hair cascaded to his shoulders. Aemond’s good eye scanned your body, similar to the way Aegon had done before but in a gentler way. He didn’t seem hungry.

“Well, make yourself at home, Y/N. I’m going to be working on an essay here if you and Hel are going to hang out in her room.”

“No! Stay here, Aemond!” Helaena stopped him before he could turn back to get his things from his room.

You looked at your friend, pretending to be confused as to why she was asking him to stay. Helaena was trying to put a plan in motion and you were both dreading and looking forward to it.

“Helaena, if he has work to do we should leave him alone,” you half whispered to her. Part of you didn’t want him to stay, nervous about what could potentially happen if he did. But at the same time you were curious and wanted to venture into this situation that your friend has obviously planned out in her head.

“Y/N, we’re going to want his help.”

Aemond’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “My help? My sister and her friend needs my help for what?”

You quickly explained what was going on. “We’re just working on a little philosophy project as well, it’s no big deal. You can work and we’ll leave you alone.” Your heart beat a little faster when you locked eyes with him and made fast work to break it.

“Aemond is a philosophy major, and it would be really useful to have him around while we did this,” Healaena all but pleaded.

“If it has to do with philosophy then I can help. And if you have Dr. Greyjoy you’re going to want my help,” Aemond simply stated his fact and immediately left to gather his materials.

While he was gone you gave Helaena a desperate look and groaned. She gave you an uncharacteristic sly smile.

“Oh, give him a chance, Y/N! You need something else in your life besides academics and so does he. It’s a perfect match. Would you rather I try to push you towards Aegon?” She questioned.

“Please, no, not Aegon. He already looked at me like I was his next meal.” You chuckled and took a deep breath. “Okay, I put my trust in you, Hel. But know that if he breaks my heart, you’re going to have to be the one who takes care of me for a few days.”

Helaena squealed. “Yes! Oh, I’m so excited!”

“Excited about what, Hel?” Aemond had come back into the room looking amused at his sister.

“Nothing, nothing! Let’s just get this project started!”

Aemond gave a small chuckle as he plopped down on the couch and you hesitantly took the love seat across from him. Aemond layed out all his books and notes and smiled up at you as Helaena took the seat next to him giving you the biggest smile while flicking her eyes between you and her brother.

“So, let’s see how you guys are faring, shall we?”

[justice4billiam]

My Best Friend

Billy Hargrove x Female Reader

I've learned a couple of things in my short life, and one of them is that falling for your best friend is the stupidest thing ever. The other is that being too much of a wuss to say anything about it will make things even more awkward.

I never planned on having feelings for him. They just crept up on me one day when we were having a blast on the beach. Suddenly, out of nowhere, my brain decided it was the perfect time to spill the beans. What the fuck, brain?

"Hey, y/n, you okay?" he asked, looking at me with his beautiful blue eyes full of concern. "Hellooo, y/n? Anyone home?" He put his hands on my shoulders.

His touch jolted me back to reality. "Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry about that, B. I was just lost in thought for a sec." I stared at our toes, hoping he wouldn't notice my flushed face.

I mustered up the guts to meet his gaze again. His eyes, so wise and all-seeing, scrutinized every inch of my face, searching for the truth.

"Don't lie to me, y/n. What's going on?" His voice was soft, but his expression was serious.

My body felt on fire, and I wanted nothing more than to run away and spare myself the embarrassment of laying my heart on the line. But I stood my ground, unable to move.

"Leave it alone, Billy! I'm fine! I just spaced out, okay? Can we drop it now, please?" I snapped, my voice tinged with desperation.

I stepped back until he released my shoulders, then stooped down to pick up my towel from the sandy ground.

Billy watched me for a moment longer, then sighed in defeat. "Fine, I'll let it go. Let's enjoy the sunset." His eyes regained their usual playful sparkle, and we continued our day at the beach, soaking up the last rays of sunlight.

He grinned mischievously and snatched my towel before tossing it aside with his own. I rolled my eyes at his playful antics and allowed him to take my hand and guide me back toward the water. We waded in until the waves lapped at our knees, and I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through me as his hand intertwined with mine.

Standing there next to him, watching the sunset over the ocean, I couldn't hold back the feelings brewing inside me since my sudden realization. My gaze drifted to Billy, and I was struck by how stunning he looked in the orange glow of the sunset. It was an unexpected beauty hidden beneath his tough exterior. To most people, he was a whirlwind of chaos, all sharp and rough edges. He was a handsome man, and he knew it, too, with an ego the size of Mars.

To me, Billy Hargrove was a beautiful yet hurting man concealed behind a mask he put up to face the harsh realities of life. Despite his struggles, I couldn't help but see the pretty etched into his sharp features. His eyes burned with a bright blue hue that softened whenever he spoke passionately about his love for surfing or basketball. The crinkled lines around his eyes when he laughed wholeheartedly were the prettiest thing to me.

As Billy bent down into the water, I felt a pang of sadness as he let go of my hand. He dug around in the sand under the water until he found what he was looking for and then popped back up with a triumphant grin, holding his discovery with both hands.

I raised an eyebrow, amused by his excitement. "What did you find?"

He stepped closer and revealed a beautiful seashell, holding it out to me like a precious gift. "A gift for my favorite girl," he said, his eyes sparkling affectionately.

I couldn't help but smile at his words and how he looked at me. Billy and I had been coming to the beach together since we were 12, and he always found perfect seashells for me. Even after six years, his gestures still made my cheeks burn red, and my heart skipped a beat.

"Thank you, Billy, it's perfect," I said with a smile, taking the seashell from his palm and walking over to my bag to tuck it away. His words warmed me, but at the same time, they stung. "His favorite girl." Oh, how I wished that were true. How I wished I were his girl.

I couldn't help stealing a glance at him as he stood there, looking at me with a mix of tenderness and something else I couldn't quite place. We had been friends for years, but lately, things felt different between us. There was a tension, an unspoken desire that simmered just beneath the surface.

I turned away, feeling a flush rise to my cheeks. As much as I wanted to be his girl, I was afraid to risk our friendship, fearful of what might happen if things didn't work out. So, I kept my feelings to myself and tried to be content with being just his friend. But each time he called me his favorite girl, it reminded me of what I wanted but couldn't have.

[ghostofthemost141]

I'll Be Back

Chapter 2

Ch.1 Ch.3 Ch.4. Ch.5 Ch.6. Ch.7. Ch.8.

About: Amelia 'Amy' Vargas had everything going for her. Her dream dog, big house, and in the honeymoon phase with her husband Alejandro Vargas. Her worst fear comes true when Alejandro is KIA during a mission. Or so she thinks. He comes back home, seemingly normal and like his usual self, but Rodolfo, who witnessed his death, is very suspicious.

Each chapter will have individual warnings

!Warnings!: None

"Hmm.." A gentle hum woke me from my slumber.

It definitely wasn’t Winston, for he would be giving me ‘Good morning now feed me’ kisses if it was him. I nudged my leg, feeling Winston down at my feet under the covers.

“..mi amar..” The voice came from behind me and I knew exactly who it was.

I tiredly rolled over and creeped my eyes open, to find Alejandro still fast asleep. So he is talking in his sleep, I never heard him do that before. He laid on his stomach, arms wrapped around his big pillow and his face facing towards me.

“..Amy..” Alejandro mumbled, his lips barely moving as he did so.

I giggled, seeing my Ale in his most vulnerable state. I leaned in close, our foreheads touching, wanting him awake but also not wanting to disturb his sleep. I shut my eyes, happy to be in such a close embrace with him, knowing that he is indeed home.

~

“Ale.”

“What?” Alejandro said with a chuckle.

“What do you have planned up your sleeve?” I ask, feeling as if there was a hidden reason for today.

“Nothing, hermosa. Just wanted to spoil you for today.” Alejandro lied through his teeth.

Alejandro has been nervous all day for whatever reason. Anytime I held his hand I could feel his nerves jittering and him staring off, as if he was in deep thought about something. He has taken me to my favorite local Italian place, bought me roses, some chocolates, some new clothing, and now we were taking a small hike to our favorite spot up on the hills.

“So there’s no reason as to why you are taking me up the hill to our favorite spot under the tree?” I question with a smirk.

“Nope.” Alejandro says, once again trying to keep up with the lie.

Even though Alejandro is a sweetheart and a great lover, he is also a crappy liar. We eventually made it up the hill under our favorite oak tree. He first took me here when he first came back from a mission and told me that if I ever miss him dearly, to come here and sit and watch the sunset. Sometimes it helps and sometimes the intense feeling of missing him remains. The hill is just outside of town, a five minute drive at most, but Alejandro and I will often have picnics here or just come up here with some good wine and just be engulfed in each other's arms as the sun goes down. Once it’s dark, depending how much we have drunk, we will go home or give in to each other’s desires until we sober up.

“Sunset is beautiful tonight.” I commented as we both stood there, watching the sun slowly go down.

“Not as beautiful as you, Amelia.” Alejandro says, standing behind me and wrapping his arms around me.

He nuzzled his face into my neck, his stubble tickling me.

“You need to trim that, Ale.” I joke, making him laugh.

“Thought you liked the beard.”

“I do!” I say, leaning into him.

I turned my attention back to the sunset, as the yellow sky slowly turned into a deep orange with some red splashed in there, like a Van Gough painting. The more the sun went down, the more colors popped. It was so beautiful. So, so beautiful. I loved this spot and I am so glad that it is Ale and I’s spot. Some stars were starting to pop up, indicating that it will be dark very soon.

“Amelia?”

I didn’t even realize Alejandro left from behind until he said my name. I was so immersed in the sunset to not even realize.

“Yes, Al-?”

I stopped to see Alejandro down on one knee, holding something in his hand and looking up at me with a gleam in his eyes and a big smile. A big, nervous smile. I could feel my heart racing, feeling as though I know what he is going to ask.

“Amelia, you have made the happiest and most lucky guy in all of Las Almas. It was fate and destiny that brought us together and because of you, I have something to look forward to after every mission or anytime I am away.”

“Y-You’ve made me so happy too, Alejandro.” I stuttered, staring dead at him, preparing myself for what he was going to ask.

Alejandro reached into his pocket and pulled a little box out, opening it and revealing a beautiful silver ring.

“¿Te casarías conmigo mi amor?”

Will you marry me, my love? I couldn’t even believe he asked me that just now. I know he was waiting for my answer, but the words nearly couldn’t leave my mouth.

“Sí. Sí, Alejandro!”

I jumped into his arms as I cried out my answer and Alejandro gladly took me into his embrace, both of us crying with joy, feeling each other's love and joy for each other.

~

“Amelia?” A tired husky voice spoke to me, knocking me out of my daydreaming.

I opened one eye to find a tired looking Alejandro looking at me but still in the same position he was sleeping in.

“Did I wake you?”

“No.”

I could tell that he really wanted to sleep in, but his natural alarm clock wouldn’t let him. I leaned in even closer, and Alejandro cupped my cheek, rubbing my skin with his thumb.

“Feels so good to wake up next to you, querida.”

“Same here.” I agreed.

His deep brown eyes stared into my bright blue ones enjoying the silence between us. The beautiful morning silence. Alejandro leaned in and pecked my nose with his lips.

“Want me to make breakfast?” Alejandro offered.

“How about you sit your fine ass on the dining table with some coffee and I make breakfast?” I suggest.

Alejandro smirked, knowing I was gonna fight him tooth and nail about letting him even do any ounce of work after coming home from a mission.

“Alright, sounds good.” Ale said.

Suddenly a mass rose from under the covers and headed up towards us, revealing Winston. Winston gave both of us kisses, wagging his tail seeing his parents were awake at the same time as him. I pet him, even though his attention was on Alejandro.

“Alright I’ll start some coffee and breakfast and you can feed Winston and let him do his business. . How about that?” I suggest.

“Deal.” Alejandro said.

Despite our mental protests, we both rose from bed, stretching and forcing our bodies awake. Alejandro slipped a t-shirt on and left the room with Winston on his trail. Feeling how chilly it was in our home, I slipped on some sleep pants and lounged out of our room, be-lining for the kitchen. I immediately started some coffee and the smell of fresh coffee filled the home, enjoying the smell of it. Alejandro came back a few minutes later through the front door, unclipping Winston’s leash. He smiled at me as he followed Winston to where his food container was, coming back a second later with a cup with some of Winston’s food in it. Alejandro dumped the food into his food bowl, disappearing into the laundry room once again to put the cup up and make sure the food container was sealed shut. He came back in and I started breakfast at that point, starting some sunny side up eggs and toast. Once Winston was done eating, he trailed at my feet, smelling the aroma of food cooking, as if his breakfast wasn’t enough for him.

“Winston, down.” Alejandro commanded.

“He's fine.” I reassure him.

I felt Alejandro get behind me and hold me close, pushing his hands under the shirt and rubbing my belly.

“Something on your mind?” I ask.

Alejandro shrugged his shoulders, keeping his large hands on my belly. He then leaned in and placed a peck on my neck.

“Just..thinking.”

“About what?” I asked as I made our plates with our finished food.

“Well what if we added another little one to the family?”

“Another Winston?”

Alejandro chuckled at my comment, but I could tell he was meaning something else. Alejandro gently placed his hands on my hips and spun me around, facing him. Alejandro held my chin, looking deep into my eyes.

“I mean..expanding the Vargas family, you know?”

Kids. Kids, you idiot, that's what he is talking about.

“Oh! That! Of course!”

I mentally facepalmed myself, while Ale laughed.

“I mean I've thought of it. It definitely wouldn't be something I'm against. It's just with your work and all..” I trail off, not wanting to hurt Alejandro.

“I know, cariña, I know.”

He knew exactly what I meant. I have had many thoughts and daydreams about Alejandro and I being human parents. Everytime I see a couple pushing the stroller with their baby inside, I can't help but imagine that with Ale and I. Boy or girl, it doesn't matter. I just wanted a family with Alejandro. But his job. His damn job. I just leaned back, my head resting on his chest.

“We will talk about it later. Let's just enjoy the moment now.” I suggested.

“Yes.” Alejandro agreed.

Alejandro let go of me and we both sat at the dining table, eating the breakfast I made for the both of us, enjoying each other's company. Something we haven't been able to do for a long while now.

“Have you heard from John and them?” I ask.

It's nearing about that time for our monthly hang out.

“Yes actually.” Alejandro said, setting down his coffee, “they are coming to us this time.”

Oh, thank God.

“What do they want to do?” I asked.

“Well, and I'll help you with it of course, is it alright with you if we cook and they come here?” Alejandro suggested.

“Of course!” I exclaimed with excitement.

“Awesome, I'll let them know.” Alejandro said as he took his phone out and started messaging them.

I watched him intently. Just him doing something as simple as texting is elegant. He is just that handsome. I love him so much. So, so much..

~