#if he was like 15-17 and the 1 time he did anything in college he ended up with a kid

[fuckrealityfictionisbetter]

I think if Reid was the one with a daughter he didn’t know about who popped up with a grandkid it would of been a lot better

[azsazz]

Midnight Muse (Part 19)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: SMUT

Word Count: 5,592

[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] [Masterlist]

Notes: The moment we've all been waiting for 😏 (took me like four days to write this)....Happy Valentine's Day 💙

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The kiss is searing.

It’s a desperate attempt to taste each other, devour each other as your lips part beneath Azriel’s without thought. Your teeth clack and the sound is loud in the silence of the gallery, almost startlingly so, but his tongue is brushing across yours in a tentative swipe before you’re meeting him halfway, kissing him even more urgently as the taste of him explodes on your tongue.

He tastes fresh and spicy. There’s a hint of the champagne he’s been drinking, and just like the fizziness of it, the feeling bubbles throughout your body pleasurably. You press yourself closer. His eyelashes are so long that you swear you can feel them fluttering against your skin. The feeling goes straight to your cunt.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you lose yourself into him entirely.

A new beginning indeed.

“Wait,” Azriel pants between kisses. His words tell you that he wants to pause this kiss that is more dizzying than any of the champagne you’ve had tonight, but the way his hands caress your face, keeping you close, the way that he continues to press his mouth against yours again and again tells you that he doesn’t want this to end either. “Princess, wait.”

Ice slips through your veins as you rock back from him a little. Is he already regretting this? I mean, you did just throw yourself at him like some simpering girl, but his reassuring grip slides down your arms, holding you close. Tingles skitter in wake of his touch, but you can’t help the part of you that’s suddenly terrified of what he’s going to say.

Azriel must see it on your face too, the worry, because his brows furrow slightly like he doesn’t understand your quick reaction to pull away. He’s stepping into you, plastering himself against your front. You can feel his cock, hard with attention against your stomach. You relax slightly as the warmth from your cheeks drips down to collect at the apex of your thighs.

“You’re drunk,” Azriel breathes, and the pinch of his brows becomes more tortured when you slide your hands up his chest, wrapping them around his neck. Those golden eyes search yours frantically, but you don’t show him anything but the ache, the need for him you have and have been locking deep inside of your soul. “I need you to be sober when I fuck you for the first time, princess.”

“I’m fine,” you whine, clinging to him as tightly as he is to you. You roll your hips a little to emphasize what you want from him and Azriel makes a choked noise in response. “I’m not drunk enough to where I’d forget any of this, Azriel.”

And fuck, the way you say his name, no longer filled with hatred or annoyance. It’s a heady whine that makes his cock harder than stone. He thinks he might crumble under your touch like a delicate piece of his charcoal. He wants to be wrapped all around you, embedded into your skin like the chalky substance he favors. He wants to ink you with his touch, with his cum—

He shakes his head, erasing those thoughts from his mind. If he continues down that path he might just rip off your dress right now and—“Fuck,” he squeezes his eyes shut as hard as he can for a moment, leaning his forehead against yours. “I want to fuck you in a bed, not on some hard floor.”

It’s an excuse and you both know it. He could lie you down right now and fuck you so hard that your tailbone bruises from the stone floors, and you’d probably thank him.

“Just put a canvas down,” you suggest, “Let’s make some art.” He grunts like you’ve just shot him, bucking his hips against you. You can feel how big he is and you want to unleash his cock from his pants, run your fingers across the hardness of it, taste him on your tongue—

“Easy,” he warns playfully, but there’s a clear strain to his voice that tells you that he wants to keep going. Sadly, Azriel pulls your hands from his belt. You hadn’t noticed that your fingers had moved to his waist on their own volition.

“Fuck,” you curse, wincing. “Sorry.”

“Say fuck again,” he says, distracted. The honey of his eyes is dripping with lust, pupils blown wide as they drink you in. The flush to your cheeks, the way you’re biting your tongue and batting your eyelashes up at him like you’re going to make him beg for it. He might. Azriel brushes his thumb across your lip, watching the way your mouth forms the words again. “Filthy, princess,” he breathes against your mouth. “Everytime you called me prick or asshole or whatever creative curses you could come up with, you don’t know how much I wanted to come taste them off of your lips, fuck them right out of you.”

He wants to know if you’ll make the same noises that you did on the other side of that wall that day.

You can’t help but to rub yourself against him. Your sex is throbbing with need. You moan again and Azriel sucks harshly on your neck. “Shit,” you whine. His hands are everywhere, winding around your body to hold you even closer. “Need your cock, Az,” you pant, and he’s kissing you forcefully, the both of you stumbling back a few steps.

“You’ll get it, princess,” he mumbles, hands dragging hot lines down your spine to squeeze a handful of your ass. You’re about to beg him again, because your failed attempts at convincing him to fuck you right here on the floor are not working, but the lights cut out, sending the entire gallery into a pitch of darkness.

Azriel groans and you can’t help the laugh that escapes.

“What the hell?” You question through your giggling, turning as you throw a look over your shoulder as if making sure that the entire room has succumbed to the same darkness. You don’t miss the way Azriel’s grip tightens on you as you move, and the action weakens your knees.

“Thesan told me this would happen at midnight,” Azriel supplies, digging into the pocket of his trousers for his phone.

You feign a gasp, “My very own Cinderella moment! I’ve always wanted one!”

The smirk in Azriel’s tone is clear when he answers. “Except, unlike Cinderella, you’ll be getting dick tonight.”

You swat at him, but in the dark you miss. He chuckles, deep and throaty, as if the current of your swing ruffled the fabric of his shirt. You clench your thighs. Being on this side of Azriel’s good mood is spectacular, but there is no way he can keep torturing you like this.

“I think it really sets the mood; don’t you think?” You purr, fingers fumbling for the top button of his shirt.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he grouses, catching your hands and guiding you through the dark gallery instead. The flashlight on his phone leads the way. Azriel keeps your hand tucked tightly in his own as you wobble back into your heels with a soft hiss, your aching feet already protesting again. “When I fuck you, I need to see all of those pretty faces you’re going to make for me,” Azriel all but growls.

You stumble, blaming it on your shoes and Azriel steadies you.

He swipes up the glasses from the floor and you pick up the nearly empty champagne bottle, where you return them all to the kitchenette Thesan built in the back, dumping them into the sink.

When you scold Azriel for not washing the glasses, he arches a brow, illuminated by the glaring light coming from his phone. “Oh, now you want to stay longer and help clean up?” He questions and you roll your eyes in response. “Is this my punishment for wanting to take you home and fuck you in a nice, comfy bed? C’mon, princess, you know just how soft it is, don’t you?”

You shiver at his words. That, for once, you’re both completely on the same page about something.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The ride back to the apartment building is both the longest ride you’ve ever endured, and the most tension-filled.

Azriel had called a cab to take the both of you home, and spent the time waiting by pressing you up against the back door of the building and kissing the life out of you.

It’s difficult to focus on anything other than his hand in yours, the soft and rigid texture of his hand. The way that his thumb smoothes gentle circles across your own hand where they lie intertwined in your lap. The warmth of his skin is both settling and forming a rock in your stomach as you think about what he’s endured to grace these scars upon his skin. That his step-brothers had been so cruel to take a flame to the artist's hands.

You try to swallow past the lump in your throat, breathing shallowly so you don’t make yourself sick with the thoughts searing through your mind.

The driver doesn’t try to make conversation and you’re thankful for that, but the silence is consuming, aiding in your negative thoughts.

As if sensing the turn of your thoughts, Azriel squeezes your hand, and gives you a gentle smile. It’s a crooked one, one corner of his mouth tilted higher than the other, but it’s easily the most beautiful smile you’ve seen. It makes him look younger, less like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. It makes you wish you had your sketchpad with you. Him looking at you like this makes you feel like there’s a garden growing in your stomach, a field of blooming flowers.

You frown when Azriel’s fingers untangle from yours but then he’s sliding that large palm scoots slowly up your thigh. You glare, glancing into the front of the car at the driver, who is paying no attention to whatever is going on in his backseat, which is perfect because Azriel’s hand is creeping higher, almost cupping your—

You splutter a little and the driver glances at you in the mirror.

“You okay?” Azriel asks, but you can hear the mirth in his voice, see the heat in his eyes, flashing in the streetlights.

You’re not all that sure that you like this new Azriel.

“Peachy,” you offer, using both of your hands to clamp down on his wrist to keep him from coming any closer to your already weeping cunt. The thin fabric of your dress does little to separate the warmth of his hand from your skin. “Just peachy.”

Azriel finds challenge in your response, and you’re no match for his strength as he softly brushes his fingers across the fabric covering your intimates. You exhale harshly and can feel the car moving faster as the driver presses harder on the gas.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You skip going into your apartment, trailing after Azriel with your hand tucked into his.

Your heart is beating wildly, like it’s trying to escape your chest. The closer you get to his door the more confident in your decision you are. You want him, want his hands all over your body, his eyes and hands on your skin and his cock plunged deeply into your cunt.

The elevator had been the only option to get upstairs because of your tired feet, but Azriel had thoroughly distracted your nervousness of getting back in the blasted metal trap by pinning you up against the door and slotting his lips over yours.

The both of you stumbled out onto your floor in a fit of laughter, helped along by the slight warmth that lingers from the champagne. Now, you’re mostly just drunk off of Azriel, his hands, the strain in his pants that’s calling your name, that gleam in his eye that you haven’t quite caught before…

“I’m going to get you some water,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth. You had both creeped quietly into the dark apartment, holding your breath and listening for any movement. For college students, the weekend night is still young, and his roommates must be out because not a grunt of a wank or a moan from Feyre sounds. You follow Azriel’s mouth because you can’t get enough of the taste of him. His hands settle on your hips, eyes gleaming with amusement. “And after you drink it, if you still want to—”

“Yes, Azriel,” you cut him off, earnest. “My answer isn’t going to change.”

He studies you, golden eyes hungry with desire, before he nods, slipping from the room, the shadows of the dark living room swallowing him whole.

You bite back the smile threatening to tear your face into two at the sight of his tight ass in his black trousers. You can’t wait to rip them off and see what’s under them. 

Exhaling, you spin on your heel, kicking out of your shoes. Your feet sigh with relief as they fall flat against the hardwood floors, and you wiggle your toes, admiring his room. It feels different, somehow, than when it did when you woke up here hungover as fuck.

The light from the lamp beside the bed is soft, the pile of books stacked in pristine order as opposed to the ready-to-tip-over pile you remember. It’s clean, no piles of clothes on the floor like in Cassian’s room, no pair of panties thrown over the desk chair.

Azriel’s desk is the only thing you could consider messy, but even then, it’s cleaner that what your art stations look like when you’re working on a project. There’s a jar filled with chunks of charcoal, a cloth drenched black hanging over its side. There are loose sheets of paper and thick graphite pencils for sketching, and a luster of sketchbooks stacked in a neat pile, the one on top open.

You lean closer, squinting against the shadows to get a better look, and your breath hitches in your throat.

Drawing upon drawing, and they’re all of you. He’s made you look so beautiful that you didn’t even know you looked like this. Even the ones that he’s clearly drawn in a rush, before the memory faded, are impeccable.

It’s you in the elevator, head buried in your sketchbook, hat pulled low over your eyes. It’s you when Feyre and Rhysand forced everyone to have lunch together, tossing the grape at Cassian. It’s you, swallowing up at him the first day that you met. You sitting on the back of his motorcycle, rain plastered to your head, you—

You can’t help but to turn the page, all but collapsing into the desk chair. Some of the pages are filled with larger drawings, spreading across the spine of the book. When you’d eaten dinner with him, the shock on your face when you learned that he could cook. The following pages are a double-spread from when you were staring down at him when he was changing the oil on his motorcycle.

A hysterical laugh bubbles in your throat. You hadn’t realized that Azriel had been paying as much attention to you as you were with him. The drawings of yours that you dropped all over the floor of his hands are a tribute to that.

“What are you doing?” Azriel’s voice startles you. You stand from the chair and face him, but you don’t move any closer than that. He’s standing in the doorway, a glass of water in his hand. He doesn’t move closer, and when his eyes flick from the sketchbook to you , your chest hurts at the guarded look he wears.

“That sketchbook is filled with drawings of me,” you point at the sketchbook in question, even though he was just looking at it. In some speck of the world it might seem creepy, this sketchbook filled with drawings of you, but to you, it’s no different than children scribbling names of their cushes across notebooks. It’s no different than all of the drawings you have of him.

You watch Azriel’s throat work as he swallows. Like he’s considering not answering you at all. 

After a few, long seconds in silence, he breathes out a quiet, “Yes.”

“Why?” you ask, twisting your fingers together.

Azriel tracks the movement. Because you consume every waking moment of my life sounds too desperate. Because you chase my demons away sounds even crazier.

“Because I really like you.” It’s his first time admitting it, your first time hearing it from him. All of the times Feyre has tried to ask you about Azriel had been deny, deny, deny, because of this very moment right now. You hadn’t wanted to think about him like that, even when your mind was desperate to. You didn’t want to actually like Azriel, not after what he had done, but you find yourself admitting that you like him a hell of a lot more than you ever thought you could.

Bunching up the bottom of your dress, you curl your fingers around it as you take a step closer. He’s frozen in the doorway, watching you slowly drag the fabric up your body and over your head. You’d forgone a bra, and your nipples tighten in the chill of the room, underneath that piercing gaze of his. 

In the few steps it takes you to cross the room to him, your dress is on the floor and he can’t stop looking at your body, drinking you in like an artist does his muse.

“I really like you too, Azriel,” you respond softly. This is the most intimate thing you’ve ever done, bare yourself to him while he’s still fully clothed, being as vulnerable as he’d been with you back at the gallery. The ball is in his court, and the bulge in his pants has you hopeful.

Azriel curses. “Fuck, princess. You’re making my hands shake.” 

Your solution is simple, taking the glass from him and reaching over to set it on the dresser. You can feel the way his eyes rove your body as you move, hot like a knife.

Turning back to him, you slowly, gently take his hands in yours. They’re trembling a little, and it makes you ache.

He’s frozen to the spot as he watches you lift one of his palms to your lips, kissing it sweetly. It’s followed by the other, and then you’re dragging his hands down your skin and over your breasts, squeezing his hands around them, nipples tight with the pleasure of his skin against them.

Azriel’s breath hitches and your head nearly rolls back on your neck when his fingers twitch, fighting the urge to squeeze harder. You peer up at him. He’s so godsdamned warm, eyes dark and drinking you in like a delight. You want to feel his hands everywhere. Right this second.

“They’re not shaking right now, Azriel.”

As quick as lightning, Azriel strikes, lunging forward and scooping you off of your feet, kicking the door shut behind him.

You arch into his touch, the tightness of your sensitive nipples grazing across the soft fabric of his shirt. You moan into his mouth at the feeling and he swallows that sound desperately.

His room is small, and in two great strides he’s placing you on his bed and crawling up after you like a wolf getting its first taste of a kill.

You scoot backwards until you can’t anymore, and Azriel follows you like a worshiper to his God, like a starving artist to their muse.

His hands trail your calves to your thighs where he parts them, your clothed cunt on full display. The fabric is wet and you shiver at the cold of his room as it fights against your hot core, shivering harder when Azriel’s hot gaze drags down your body like a brush dipped in paint.

Like this, kneeling between your legs, he’s the one that looks Godlike. Strands of his black hair fall across his glowing eyes, and his tongue pokes out to wet his lips.

“My Gods, princess. Where do I even start with you?” he asks, his voice filled with awe.

You know that his question is rhetoric, but you can’t help the whine on an answer that slips from your lips.

“Anywhere you want.”

As if he can’t stand it a moment longer, Azriel’s hips find yours. His cock is heavy with need where it’s straining against the fabric of his trousers, and you keen as he grinds into you, fingers finding the buttons of his shirt as he watches you with hungry eyes.

Splayed out like this, on his bed, you look impeccable. A feast and he is a starving man. Biting your lip as he rubs himself against your cunt. The part to your lips, glistening in the lamplight. He drinks you in, memorizing each and every single ounce of you before your fingers find the sliver of exposed skin that grows with each button he takes off.

He’s smooth, warm, and the ridges of his muscles feel like a puzzle beneath your fingers. You know exactly where he fits, right up against your body.

Azriel’s shirt falls to the side and as if he knows the intended path of your thoughts, he’s leaning over you, caging you between his elbows as he stares deeply into your eyes. You can’t help but watch in response, suddenly so sure that you’ve spent too long arguing with him. All this time, you could’ve been doing this. 

It looks like Azriel is realizing the same, as he dips down to kiss you sweetly.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against your mouth again, following the words with another whisper of a kiss.

“I’ve already forgiven you,” you say, delirious from the feeling of his tongue against your neck. Azriel sucks lightly and your breath hitches, thighs quivering to wrap around his taut waist. “But if you get inside of me right now, I’ll forgive you again.” 

Azriel lifts his head. With the way that his dark hair falls into his gold eyes, paired with the slight smirk on his face, it sends your heart into a rapid flutter. He’s utterly breathtaking, and something blooms deeply inside of you. 

The things you’ve learned about him, from him, this man who hasn’t let his hardships keep him from doing what he loves.

“Don’t think you’re getting off that easy, princess,” Azriel says, and you almost whine when he pulls away from you, but he’s kissing his way down your body, sucking a pert nipple into his mouth and rolling his tongue around it while his other hand massages your free breast. Your fingers find his shoulders and you dig your nails in, hissing as he rolls your nipple between his teeth. Gods, you need his cock, right now. “I have to taste your sweet little pussy first.”

“Please,” you beg as his hands trail down your sides, snapping the waistband of your panties against your hips in a tease.

“Might have to keep you here all night. So I can study your body with my tongue,” he says, leaning down to lick a stripe up the inside of your thigh. “My hands,” Azriel continues, and the words are accentuated with a brush of his knuckle down the center of your core. The thin fabric of your panties does nothing to ease the feeling of his touch. You keen deeply, and somewhere in the haze of the storm that is Azriel that accompanies his every touch, you don’t realize he’s slipped from his pants and boxers, his thick, full length on display. “And my cock,” he finishes, rubbing himself against your soaked panties.

“Az,” you mewl desperately, but you don’t have to wait any longer because he’s already peeling your panties down your legs and settling himself there, admiring the way your pretty cunt flutters and glistens with need.

Your fingers are already fisting the sheets and it’s an effort to peer down at him, watching in anticipation as he finally, finally, lowers his head to your weeping cunt.

Fucking Gods, is Azriel wicked with his tongue, sweeping a deep stroke through your slit. He groans and the sound of it reverberates against your clit and it’s all too much already. You figure he was going to be good with his hands, being an artist, but this…the gentle to harsh touches of his tongue against your clit is otherworldly.

You gasp as he fucks into you, keeping you from scooting up the bed where your feet are planted in the sheets with his hands on your hips, holding you to his face. He’s a man undone, delirious on your taste alone. He can’t wait until his cock gets to feel this.

Azriel works his tongue, fucking into you with such hunger. He sucks greedily at your clit and you arch off of the bed. One of his palms slides across your hips, pressing you back down. He doesn’t care that you’re squeezing his head with your thighs, only cares about the sounds that he’s ripping from your mouth.

They sound even better on this side of the wall.

A finger replaces his tongue and you’re full on squirming now, fingers buried deeply into his hair as you guide his head, the flick of his tongue too good that any words besides “yes,” eddy from your mind. Azriel’s knuckle brushes the bundle of nerves inside of you and you’re seeing white, cunt clenching around his finger, grinding your pussy into the feverish flicking of his tongue as you ride out the best orgasm of your life.

You cunt aches, and Azriel’s still going, so you use your grip on his hair to jostle him a little, whimpering to get his attention.

It takes a lot more strength for Azriel to part from your cunt than he thought. Your sweetness is still on his tongue, coating his mouth when he looks up at you, dazed, as if he’s the one that’s just come from a taste of you. But no, he’s still painfully hard, trying not to rut his hips into the bed while you squirmed for him.

He wants you to do all that squirming on his cock instead.

“You alright up there, princess?” Azriel teases, crawling his way up your body once more. Following the guidance of the hand in his hair, he slants his mouth over yours, sharing the taste of you in a lazy kiss.

You hum languidly, eyes shut in bliss from the orgasm. You peek your eyes open to peer up at Azriel, who’s admiring you with a soft curve to his mouth. He looks so handsome when he smiles that it has you wrapping your legs around his hips, the both of you groaning as his cock slides through your slick folds, teasing.

“Condom,” you gasp, canting your hips to slide your wet and fully interested cunt across his length. He’s so big, and you’d be going down on him if it weren’t for the way that you desperately need to feel him inside of you, right this fucking instant.

Azriel reaches over you, pulling open the drawer of the small table next to you. He roots around for a moment and then he’s pressing back on his haunches, tearing open the condom wrapper and pulling it out.

“Let me,” you offer, and his eyes turn a shade darker when he passes it over.

Your mouth waters at the feeling of his cock in your hand, hot and heavy, silky like heaven. You can feel your slick around the length from where he’d nearly driven you to insanity with that teasing grind against your cunt, and in retaliation, you give his cock a tug, reveling in the low growl that comes from the back of his throat.

“Princess,” he threatens, and your thighs jolt, trying to shut around your screaming clit at the sound.

You don’t wait for Azriel to take charge. As soon as you roll the condom on you’re brushing the head of his cock against your cunt again, slicking him and lining him up with your entrance, looking up at him with those big, innocent eyes.

“Fuck me, Az. I can’t wait another minute.” 

His lips meet yours in a bruising kiss and he slowly presses his cock into you.

“Fucking fuck, princess. You’re so tight for me.” His words are shaky against your mouth, as if he’s struggling to hold himself back from pressing into you all the way, from cumming with a singular touch. 

You mewl his name on the breath that’s forced from your lungs with each inch he plunges into you. Gods, he looked big, felt bigger in your hand, and as he works his cock into your heat, you’re not too sure he’s going to fit all the way. 

But the words he’s whispering into your ear, onto your skin have you melting. The finger he slips between your bodies to play with your clit is distracting enough to where you’re focused on the pleasure he’s pulling from you. 

And then his cock hits that spot, nestles up against it when your hips meet, and you cry out in joy. “Right there, Azriel. You feel so good.” Your fingers dig into the long lines of muscle down his back, trying to hold him closer, as if you aren’t already touching in every way possible.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this moment?” he asks you, accentuating his words with a slow roll of his hips that makes you both groan, your nails biting into his skin like the needle from his tattoo gun. It drags a shiver up his spine as a fleeting thought zips through his mind, one of you, naked and sitting on his cock, giving him another tattoo. He’ll teach you how to hold the tattoo gun and let you have free rein with it, because anything that you can give him, he wants. Azriel squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to burst at the visual. If anything, he can’t wait to coat your virgin skin in his ink. There is so much canvas for him to work with, all smooth and perfect, waiting for some artwork. “When you were touching yourself on that side of the wall,” he pants, pulling out and fucking back into you slowly. The drag of your walls so tight around his cock is perfect. He won’t last long. 

You gasp as he bottoms out again, throwing your head back into the pillows. “You heard that?”

His hum is strained, and he can’t help but to kiss you. “You’ll have to show me how you touched yourself some day, princess.”

You moan loudly at the thought of that, gripping him tighter. Azriel sitting in his chair, charcoal poised above his sketchpad as he watches you with dark eyes, while you touch yourself to the thought of him. Just how he’s touching you now, tight, little circles around your clit.

“I heard you with that guy,” Azriel continues, and his thrusts become harsher, deeper. “With that fucker from the coffee house. I bet you faked it with him, all that laughing and sighing. I’m going to find out if those noises were real or not.” You shiver at his words, but Azriel couldn’t be further from wrong.

“We didn’t fuck,” you pant, bucking your hips up to meet his. Azriel makes a choked sound, canting his hips to hear you keen wildly at the change of angle. And then, because you know it will make him come undone, you say, “All of this is just for you, Az.”

Azriel nearly cums at those words alone. The coiling in his bones is so hot that he readjusts for better leverage, and fucks into you with abandon. Gods, he loves the way that you’re clinging to him, the way your cunt squeezes his cock tightly, like you never want to let him go.

He’s been a fucking fool all of this time. A Godsdamn fucking fool. He could’ve had you like this, milking his cock dry, making these sounds that threaten to tear the walls down. He could’ve had his hands all over you, because you seem to like the way that he’s touching you, even with how fucked up they are.

“I’m going to memorize everything about this perfect body of yours, princess,” Azriel groans, thrusting deeply. He can tell you’re on the verge of your own orgasm, with the way your cunt squeezes him, the way those gorgeous eyes roll into the back of your head and your mouth parts, letting out those filthy noises he revels in. “We’ve got all night. Let me see you cum again, princess. Cum all over my cock. Oh, fuck, princess. That’s it.”

Your orgasm rocks through you like a tidal wave, stealing your breath away. You hold onto Azriel like he’s your lifeline, trembling in the aftershocks. The white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins is incredible, and you wrench your eyes open at the sound of Azriel’s shaky warning.

Azriel follows you into serendipity. He wishes he were painting your body in white strokes. It’s always been far from his favorite color, but he thinks it could quickly become his favorite if he could see his cum splattered across your skin. 

For the first time, you don’t care that it’s loud on this side of the wall. 

Because you’re on it.

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[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 23

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 | AO3

-----

They're on the front page for about a week.

They run the stories of Hopper and Henry Creel simultaneously - honestly, Eddie kind of thinks the fact that Hopper was presumed dead and is now back makes it easier for people to believe a previously assumed dead guy is the top suspect for the murders.

Eddie gets barely a mention clearing him of all charges. There's a couple of articles about him and Steve fighting off Henry Creel, but the focus is more on Steve than anything else.

Steve bitches about it, about how they did the same thing after Starcourt, but Eddie's kind of glad his name isn't plastered all over the place anymore.

He and Steve are down in the kitchen scrounging up celebratory snacks and beers - Steve has a clean bill of health, and Eddie's stitches are coming out in a few days - when the phone rings.

"Harrington residence, this is Steve speaking," he greets.

Eddie barely has time to decide he's absolutely going to tease him about that later when the response comes - loud enough for him to hear it.

"Steven, my boy!" the voice booms, spirited and affable.

Steve closes his eyes, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "Hi, Dad."

"We just heard the news!" Steve's father says. "Why didn't you call to tell us? Did the earthquake damage anything?"

Part of Eddie thinks he should leave. Or at least back away, so he can't hear everything that's being said - but the other part of him thinks that Steve'd push him away if he didn't want him here, and with how tense Steve's gone next to him, Eddie can't bring himself to pull away.

"The house is fine," Steve says. "Loch Nora didn't get hit at all."

"Good, good," Mr. Harrington says. "Your mother hears you and Rachel have been volunteering with the relief efforts?"

Eddie didn't think it was possible, but Steve goes even stiffer.

"Robin," he corrects, his tone smooth and entirely void of inflection. "Yes, we've been coordinating donations."

"That's what I want to hear!" There's a sound like a loud clap. "I'm glad to see you're taking this seriously. You had a lot of ground to make up for, but it seems giving you a dose of reality has paid off. We'll be able to have some real talks about your future soon. What? Oh, your mother wants to talk to you."

There's a shuffling noise, then a quieter and much less friendly voice greets, "Steven."

"Hey Mom," Steve's posture relaxes a little. "I told Dad we made it out okay."

There's some kind of response, but Steve's mom is too quiet for Eddie to make it out.

"No, of course I didn't file charges. I knew you'd want to handle it if anything else happened." A pause. "Yes, that Carver. Mom, it's not - yeah. Yeah, okay. No, it's just him. I think he's just mad that people listened to me and not him. Yeah, I - all right. Bye."

He hangs up the phone, leaning in with one arm braced against the wall, a long line of tension.

"Steve?" Eddie says quietly.

Steve turns to face him, giving a little crooked smile. "You can ask if you want. I don't mind you and Robin knowing. It's… easier sometimes, if she expects it, and it's probably the same with you."

Eddie aches a little. "What was your dad talking about? What ground to make up for?"

Steve makes a face. "I did a lot of damage to the Harrington image the last bit of high school, you know. Stopped caring about my reputation, didn't get accepted into any of the colleges they wanted me to go to, kept getting into fights."

"But that wasn't - did they even ask you what actually happened?" Eddie asks.

"They don't care what actually happened," Steve replies. "Just what it looked like. Like I said, it's all about appearances with them. My dad's the main reason I worked at Scoops instead of being a lifeguard again last summer - he says it's because I needed a real life experience, learn what it means to work at the bottom, but he was just pissy and trying to humiliate me. He talks a big game about working hard, but all he really cares about is how I make them look. Now that I've gotten good press twice, he's happy again."

Eddie's mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. "He didn't even ask if you were okay."

Steve shrugs. "I looked fine in the papers."

Right.

Appearances.

"Will you be mad at me if I punch your dad if I ever see him?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs, a surprised little sound like he's startled by it. "No," he says. "But only if I get to punch yours for leaving you."

Oh.

If Eddie was thinking about it, he'd have moved slowly, making sure to telegraph what he was doing so he didn't startle Steve, but he reacts on instinct and pulls Steve into a hug.

Steve doesn't even flinch at the sudden motion. He just melts into it, letting Eddie wrap him up and hold him tightly. His arms come up to cross over Eddie's shoulder blades, the placement automatically mindful of his injuries in the way only someone who's bandaged them multiple times could be.

"Sometimes I wish they just wouldn't call at all," Steve admits, face buried in Eddie's neck. It comes out in a rush, like he hadn't really thought about it before he said it, but he's getting it out anyway. "That they'd just cut me out of their life, instead of stringing me along."

"Fuck them," Eddie says. "I've got you."

He can hear Steve swallow, and Steve hugs him tighter.

They stay like that for a long while, until Eddie finally pulls back.

"Hey," he says softly. "I'll get the food and stuff. Go upstairs and see Robin."

Steve looks uncertain. "You sure?"

Eddie hugs him one more time. "You've got two soulmates," he murmurs. "Let us take care of you a little, okay?"

Steve squeezes him tight, then lets go with a nod before heading upstairs.

Eddie dithers in the kitchen for a bit, taking an extra long time. Whatever his complicated feelings are, it doesn't bother him at all to give Steve and Robin some space like this.

They're talking when he comes back, which isn't a surprise, and he hears his own name as he gets closer to the bedroom. Eddie pauses, even though he shouldn't, listening through the cracked door. He'll feel worse about it later, probably, but right now the masochistic side of him can't resist the urge to know what they're saying about him.

"I want him so much, Robs," he hears Steve saying, low and soft like he's trying to be quiet.

"I know," Robin replies, her tone somehow managing to be both gentle and snarky at the same time. "It's kind of pathetic."

Steve lets out a muffled groan. "Not helping. I don't exactly have the greatest track record at being able to get over people! I thought, with my soulmate-"

He cuts off, and Eddie can't help the bubbling anger that springs up. Steve thought? Has he stopped for one second to think about how Eddie might feel, only ever having a platonic soulmate? Wanting him just as bad and not being able to have him, not being able to have anyone?

"-someone else?" Robin is saying, like she's reading his thoughts, and Eddie has to hold his breath as he makes sure he hadn't accidentally said that outloud.

"I don't want anyone else," Steve says miserably. "Just him. I think - I think it's always going to be him. Fuck, why does this have to be so complicated?"

There's a heavy, thick silence, and Eddie's anger simmers and crackles under his skin, the way it always does when there's a hefty mixing of guilt in it.

"Do you think-" Robin starts, then stops. "Do you wish-" She stops again, voice thick with emotion. "Would it be easier if we-"

"No," Steve says, cutting her off at the same time that Eddie realizes what she's probably trying to bring herself to ask.

There's the muffled sound of shuffling, quiet hitching breaths - probably the motions of Steve trying to reassure one of his soulmates that he wants her, and he imagines him gathering her close, pressing soft kisses anywhere he can reach, cutting off anything she tries to say with a deeper, fiercer kiss.

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes copper to keep himself from making some kind of sound to give himself away. He hates that he doesn't know what he's feeling - hates that he thinks he's jealous of Robin just as much as he doesn't feel jealous of her, not really. He's jealous of the images he conjures when he thinks about them together, but he's never actually jealous when he's with them, when he watches them.

That reminder makes him shift, peeking through the cracked door so he can see them. They're sitting facing each other, legs all tangled together. One of Steve's hands is covering Robin's heart, and the other is curled around one of Robin's hands, pinning it to his chest over his own heart, and their foreheads are pressed together.

Something in Eddie settles in a way he can't explain, all thoughts of jealousy gone.

"There's no me without you," Steve is saying. "You're a part of me, Robs, I can't do this without either of you."

She says something too muffled for Eddie to make out.

"I'm happy. I really am, I promise. I love you, I love us, exactly the way we are. And with Eddie-"

Eddie leans forward, too desperate to know what he's going to say to worry about being caught.

"I don't need anything else other than just him. However I can have him. If it's never romantic, if this is us forever - it doesn't matter, not really. I just need you and him, and the kids, and I'm good."

There's silence, the two of them just completely wrapped up in each other, and fuck, Eddie - he thinks you know what, if this is it, if what he has is Steve and Robin and the kids forever, then he's good, too.

"I love you, Robin Buckley," Steve says. "In a way I never realized was possible, until you and that dumb kid showed up in my life and taught me that you don't have to do anything to earn someone's love. That sometimes, it's just unconditional."

Steve was sixteen when he fought his first demogorgon, Eddie remembers that. Which means he couldn't have been any younger than that when he started really spending any time with Dustin or Robin, which means - the same thing that Eddie went through when he first moved in with Uncle Wayne, the thing that was so impossible for him to believe at twelve, Steve wasn't shown until he was probably seventeen.

Fuck, his heart aches.

"Does Henderson know he was your first true love?" Robin asks, her voice a little wet, but obviously trying to make things a little lighter.

Steve laughs, the sound just a bit thick. "No, and he'd be insufferable if I told him."

There's the faint sting of a new lie being written on the back of his calf, and the second he registers it, he hears Robin's startled laughter. Eddie pulls back from the door, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out, trying to get himself back under control.

"Oh my God, Steve, you did tell him! When?"

He can hear Steve sputtering and deflecting, the sound of Robin smacking him and Steve scrambling - probably trying to avoid them - and if there was ever going to be a good time to announce his return after shamelessly listening in for too long, now is probably it.

Eddie pushes open the door, six pack under one arm and bags of popcorn and chips under the other as he shoots a hopefully only slightly manic grin at them. "What's Steve lying about now?"

"Nothing!" Steve says too quickly.

Sloppy, for him, considering Eddie knows how good Steve usually is at using sarcasm or half truths to avoid telling lies, so Eddie tosses the bag of popcorn at him.

He catches it easily, of course, but it means he's now vulnerable to Robin's attacks, and he has to swerve to avoid another slap to his shoulder.

"Steve's trying to pretend like we both didn't get that lie, too," Robin says.

Steve groans. "Fine, Jesus. It was back when we were waiting at the camper, and Dustin was upset. I told him that he was the first person who was ever just - there, in my life because he wanted to be, even after he didn't need me to fight demodogs. No one could ever replace him."

"You're such a sap, Steve," Eddie teases him as he comes to sit next to him and Robin.

"Shut up," Steve grumbles. "That's it, I'm picking the movie."

—

The next day, Lucas and Max swing by. Steve hauls a basketball stand out of the garage and sets it up in the driveway, and Eddie sits at the kitchen table, eating a bologna sandwich while he watches them play.

It's safer inside, where there's no one to see if he gets affected by Steve's tank top and shorts.

Or at least, he thought it was safer inside.

"Do you love Steve?" Max asks, plopping down beside him.

Eddie chokes on his Coke, and she stares at him unsympathetically until he manages to breathe again.

"He's my soulmate, so." Eddie shrugs.

Max gives him an unimpressed look, and yeah, okay, he figures they both know soulmates aren't a guarantee of anything. Eddie's parents were soulmates, after all, loved each other more than anything else in this world, and that still hadn't been enough.

"I wanted him to be my soulmate before I knew it was him," he admits, because that's a more true answer without actually having to say yes or no. "Nothing's happened since to change that."

She gets this look on her face like she's trying to decide if that's an acceptable response. After a moment, she rests her chin on her knees, staring out the window, and Eddie figures he's in the clear.

"Steve has two soulmates," she says after a while. "You don't. Doesn't that make you feel - I don't know, like you aren't enough?"

"Jesus Christ, Red, you're not pulling any punches today, are you?" Eddie swears.

He doesn't actually want to have this conversation. It's not something he's completely sorted out on his own, yet, even though he's done a lot of thinking on it, and he's tempted to tell her to mind her own business.

But she won't look at him, and he knows why she's asking. She's not talking about him and Steve and Robin, not really.

He thinks about telling her something standard about soulmates, or maybe even the advice that his uncle gave him, but it doesn't feel right.

"It's not what I always imagined," Eddie admits slowly.

Max doesn't say anything, but he watches the way she starts to unwind a little, how she doesn't hold herself so stiff, tilts a little to actually listen to what he's saying.

"You know Steve and I talked to each other when we were younger. We thought the same way about a lot of stuff, and I had this idea in my head that he was some little outcast like me, in another small town somewhere out there, that we'd move to a big city and find each other. But then we stopped talking."

"How come?" Max asks, looking caught up despite herself.

Eddie grins at her, wide and self depreciating. "I found out he was probably some rich, popular jerk, and decided I hated him."

And there's that unimpressed look again.

"Yeah, yeah," Eddie grumbles. "Let's just say there might be some truth to not talking with your soulmate before you actually meet them. Point is, for almost five years, I hated my soulmate. Thought the best I could hope for was that we'd meet when we were thirty and ancient, and maybe then he would have changed. Then a little while ago, I met Steve."

Max's brows furrow. "You met Steve way before that."

"Nah," he says. "I knew of Steve. I had a lot of assumptions about him, knew what I thought he was, but I didn't know the real Steve. That Steve I met when he helped explain all of this to me and didn't make me feel stupid for not picking up some of it right away, even after I held a broken bottle to his throat."

She snorts, but looks like she's considering that. "I met him when he was putting himself between me, Lucas, and Dustin and a hoard of demodogs, a couple of hours after calling them dickheads and me some random girl."

Eddie salutes her with his can of Coke, half in understanding and half to cover the way his heart wants to melt again. "That Steve was nothing like I imagined my soulmate to be, when I was daydreaming about him or hating him. But I knew I didn't want anyone else, and Steve having another soulmate doesn't change that. I don't think it makes what he feels for me any less than what I feel for him, and I don't think it means I'm less important to him than he is to me."

Max frowns. "Really, or are you just saying that?"

"Really," Eddie says, though he hadn't actually been sure it was true until he heard himself say it. "I'm not saying it's not hard sometimes. And sometimes I get in my head about it. But I wouldn't change it. Steve wouldn't be the same without Robin, you know? He wouldn't be the Steve that made me want him to be my soulmate so bad."

There's a long moment of silence. Then, "Would you be saying that if both of his soulmates were romantic?"

Eddie's glad he stopped drinking, because he knows he would have choked again. For a split second, she wonders if she's picked up on - but no, that still isn't what this about. "Are both of yours romantic?"

Her jaw juts forward, arms hugging tighter around her knees. "What if they were?"

Fuck, he doesn't know what to say to that. "It's okay to like both guys and girls," he says, because he feels like that's the most important bit. "I do. I mean, mostly guys, but sometimes girls."

Her grip loosens a little, but she still doesn't say anything.

"It sounds like maybe I'm not the one you should be talking to about that," he says carefully.

She scowls. "I talked to Steve already."

Right, of course she did.

"What did Steve say?"

"Steve said he thinks the line between platonic and romantic soulmates isn't as straightforward as people like to pretend it is. That sometimes what you might think should be romantic is actually platonic, and sometimes what you think should be platonic is romantic, and sometimes there's going to be things that blur the lines and you don't really know which one it is. He said it was okay to have two platonic or two romantic or one of each or, like, any combination." She makes a face here, like she's not entirely sure what he meant by any combination - or like she was sure, and didn't need that much detail. "That as long as everyone was communicating, it was okay to do whatever worked for us."

Eddie swallows. "Steve sounds pretty smart."

Max rolls her eyes. "He has his moments."

"So… are you communicating with Lucas and El?" he asks.

She picks at a rip in her jeans. "I talked to Lucas."

He waits, but it seems like that's all he's going to get. He starts to ask what Lucas said, but… he gets the feeling that it's not necessarily about what he said or not.

"But it's Lucas," Eddie says. "And you wanted to hear how someone else in a familiar situation felt."

Eddie gets that familiar, itchy feeling that he does when he wants to run, and he only barely resists the urge to bounce his leg up and down. It's not that he wants to run from Max, or even from this conversation, it's just - it's starting to make him think about things, and he really, really doesn't want an audience for this. He wants to lock himself in a room and pace, listen to some music, maybe scribble out his thoughts, something to get his hands moving and his brain in some kind of order -

"Even if Steve wanted both of us romantically," he says, knowing it's close enough that it's not a lie. "I would still rather be his soulmate than anyone else."

Max looks at him with narrowed eyes for a long moment. "I'm gonna ask Steve if you lied about that."

Eddie fixes her with an unimpressed look right back. "You think I'd do that to him?"

"You better not." There's an edge of menace in her tone, but she lets it go, so Eddie figures she doesn't really think he'd lie about something like that knowing it would be etched on Steve's skin forever.

Silence stretches between them, and Eddie follows her gaze out the window, watching Steve and Lucas playing basketball.

"I've put him through so much already," Max says, so quietly that he can barely hear it.

Fuck, Eddie is so fucking soft for these kids.

"You have not," Eddie says immediately. "You haven't done a goddamn thing, Red. Both of you have already been through so much, and it's not because of something either of you did. It's fucking Hawkins."

She doesn't look convinced, so Eddie pushes his shoulder against hers.

"Lucas is smart. He's more emotionally intelligent than I am-" Max snorts at him, and he's reasonably sure he hears her mutter something along the lines of like that's hard, but he ignores her. "He knows what he can take and what he can't. All you have to do is believe him when he tells you it."

She's quiet for a moment, looking contemplative. Then she asks, "Does that work for you?"

Right, yeah, okay, he deserved that one. He thinks about deflecting, but -

"I'm trying," he admits quietly. "What do you think, huh, you gonna let me beat you there or are we gonna do this together?"

Max glances out the window again, then turns to look back at him, her chin jutting out. "Steve loves too much, and he gets it thrown back at him too often. I don't think he really believes that we love him as much as he loves us, even though we do."

She says it like a threat, like she's saying if you tell him I said that I will kill you or maybe if you hurt him I will kill you. Either way, he'd be dead.

"I'll talk to Lucas and El, and you make sure you don't disappoint him."

Goddamn if that doesn't stab right to the heart of him, lodging itself beneath his ribcage and sticking right into the parts that'd already made him want to run from this conversation.

"Okay," he manages to get out, because he's not sure he'll survive any other answer.

Max nods. "Good talk," she tells him, and then she pushes herself up and she's gone.

Eddie stays there, mulling all of that over. He doesn't think she'd actually tell Steve anything they just talked about, nor does he think she really has any idea that Steve had asked him to make their bond romantic and he'd turned him down. Honestly, Eddie could probably get away with patting himself on the back for actually managing to give some decent advice and be the person she'd needed him to be for just a little while, then go on being a very devoted platonic soulmate for Steve.

Except even if Max doesn't really know, Eddie does. And now Eddie's thinking about things he doesn't want to, and wondering how much of a hypocrite some of the advice that he gave her makes him, and -

"Hey," Lucas says, and Eddie yelps.

Lucas raises his eyebrows at him.

"Jesus Christ, don't do that," Eddie bitches.

There's a little smirk, but fortunately, Lucas doesn't actually comment on it. "You talk to Max?" he asks instead.

"Yeah," Eddie replies, narrowing his eyes at him.

Lucas lights up, though, his whole face practically beaming with his smile. "Good. I figured it'd help her to hear that your soulmate cares about you no matter what from someone who wasn't me."

Eddie raises one eyebrow. "How do you know that's what I said?"

Lucas rolls his eyes. "Because you're Steve's soulmate. If that wasn't the way you felt, Robin would know, and she'd have already murdered you."

Eddie considers that. "Okay, fair."

Lucas makes his way over to the fridge, yanking it open and standing in front of it as he peers in. "So what did you tell her?"

Eddie sits back, waiting until Lucas turns to look back at him so he can shoot him a wide, smug grin. "If she wants you to know, she'll tell you."

He gets a glare in return, but Lucas doesn't protest that, just leans back in to grab a pair of Gatorades from the fridge. He twists the top off of one, taking a long swallow before he shuts the door and starts back out of the kitchen, giving him a little nod as he passes.

"Hey, Lucas?" Eddie calls before he can leave.

Lucas pauses, looking quizzically at him.

"I'm guessing you talk to Steve like Max does, about all this." Eddie makes an exaggerated gesture between them and out the kitchen window, meant to loop all of them in together. "But, uh. You know. If you ever want a different perspective, from someone in kind of your position."

He motions to himself, then splays his hands out all ta-da.

Lucas hesitates, lingering in the middle of the kitchen before he seems to make a decision.

"I was kind of upset about it when I first found out Max's other soulmate was El," he admits. "It was right after Billy died, and their soulmate bond was new, and Max kept letting El in while she was shutting me out. And I was angry, and jealous, and then when El had to leave and Max kept pushing me away, I just kept thinking that if El was here Max wouldn't be by herself so much, that the wrong soulmate got to stay in Hawkins."

Lucas pauses, twisting the Gatorades in his hand, but Eddie gets the feeling it's a gathering his thoughts pause more than a waiting for Eddie to say something pause.

"Eventually I realized that El could help Max in a way that I couldn't, and that maybe that was the point. I started calling El a little, too, when the phone wasn't busy, and just - El was grieving, too. I didn't want to feel jealous over something that helped them both anymore. It's been good with El back, really good. I don't know if I like El like that, but if Max does-" he shrugs. "I guess I kind of already got over the jealousy bit. It doesn't really matter to me if they kiss while they're having sleepovers or not, as long as they don't exclude me."

Now it seems like a waiting for Eddie to say something pause, so he gives a soft little hum. "What do you do if you end up feeling excluded?"

Lucas blinks, like he wasn't expecting that question. "Uh. Well, before, I talked to my parents and sometimes to Steve or Robin or Dustin. It's hard talking to Mike or Will about it because they're not all that objective about El stuff. I don't… really know if I want to tell my parents about Max and El like that yet, so I guess… talk to Steve or Robin or Dustin." He pauses, then, more tentatively, "Or you?"

Fuck, these kids keep getting to him. "Or me," he agrees easily. "But you should probably also add talk to Max and El to that list."

Lucas makes a face, but doesn't disagree. "I don't think a lot of the others know about Max," he says instead. "Just me and Steve and Robin, and now you."

There's an edge to his voice, like he's pretty sure Eddie must be safe if Max told him, but he's ready to fight him about it anyway.

"Max knows about me, now, so we're even," Eddie replies, pleased that the effort he puts into making sure his voice sounds steady pays off.

"Yeah?" Lucas asks. "Who else knows?"

"Steve and Robin. And now Max and you," Eddie replies.

Lucas lights up a little. "Cool."

"Cool," Eddie echoes, even though he feels a little shaky from the fact that he's now said it twice today, which is double the amount of times he's ever said it before at all.

There's a comfortable silence for a moment.

"It's complicated, being in our position," Eddie says after a bit. "I think it's always going to be complicated. But if we let it - I think it could be really great, too. Most people only end up in pairs, but us? We get a whole damn party of interconnected soulmates."

"A party of soulmates," Lucas says thoughtfully, then grins. "Yeah, I like that."

"You're a good kid, Lucas," Eddie tells him, not sure if he really needs to hear it, but he still remembers the way it made him feel when Uncle Wayne said it.

Lucas ducks his head, looking a little pleased, even though he follows it up with a sidelong look. "Even though I'm kind of a jock?"

Eddie shrugs. "My soulmate is a whole jock. I guess that means I've got a little jock in me, too."

Lucas's expression shifts, turning mischievous, and suddenly he looks like the fifteen year old boy he is, and not a world-weary adult. It's nice, it's wonderful, Eddie loves to see it, except it makes him realize what he just said far, far too late to do anything about it.

In his defense, they were having a serious discussion, and -

Yeah, he's got nothing.

Maybe it'll be fine? Lucas is probably the most mature out of all of the boys, maybe -

"I don't know, man," Lucas says, slowly, like he's actually considering that. "We've all heard the rumors about Steve. I don't think it's something little you're gonna be dealing with."

Eddie gapes at him.

"I said you were mature," he bemoans, flinging his upper body over the top of the kitchen table just to make Lucas laugh harder. "I told Max you were emotionally intelligent! Begone from my sight!"

Lucas takes his Gatorades and leaves, still laughing at him.

—

"Max cornered me in the kitchen to threaten me today," Eddie says.

Steve snorts. "Of course she did. What about?"

Eddie shrugs, waiting for Steve to look at him so he can waggle his eyebrows at him. "She also threatened to kill me if I told you."

Steve shoves him, and Eddie falls back dramatically, sprawling out on the couch. He props himself up on his elbows to look at Steve, but he doesn't seem inclined to actually push him to reveal what he and Max talked about. Instead, Steve goes about shutting down for the night, checking to make sure all the windows and the sliding glass door are locked.

"Soulmate stuff," Eddie says. Or more like blurts out, before he can change his mind, to force himself to have to keep going. "She told me what you said about the line between platonic and romantic soulmates. Made me think about some things."

"Yeah?" Steve asks, stopping by the couch to look at him.

"Do you still want me, Steve?" Eddie asks, his heart in his throat.

He isn't prepared for Steve to shut down, for the way his face goes cold and hard and blank.

"Not cool, Eddie," Steve says, turning away and going back to the windows in the living room.

Eddie pushes himself up off the couch, then immediately doubts himself and sits back down. "Steve, what?"

Steve won't look at him, and he can hear the window locks rattling with the force that Steve's using to check them. "You're being a dick, man, come on. You can't ask me stuff like that."

"I-" he starts, then stops, his mind scrambling a little. Is he too late? Did Steve move on already, even though he told Robin that he wasn't going to? Is Eddie so easy to get over that even his fucking soulmate couldn't keep him? "What happened to it's always going to be him, huh?"

"Jesus Christ," Steve says, incredulous, and Eddie kind of wants to cry a little because he knows that Steve has started saying that more because of all the time they've spent together. "You were listening to me and Robin? What the fuck, man, you still think it's fair to throw that at me?"

"Fuck you, Steve, I know it wasn't a lie when you said that. Am I so fucking easy to just stop wanting, or are you that fucking fickle?"

"Eddie, goddamn, is this - were you testing me? Is this you lashing out at me again? Because I can't, okay, not about this, I can't-" he cuts off, one hand scrubbing over his face. "I told you, I can't."

Oh.

Oh fuck.

"Steve, no, I wasn't teasing, I - it was a real question."

Steve stills, pausing right by a window. The light of the moon catches on him, highlighting parts of him in pale silver while the rest of him is warmed from the soft yellow of the living room lamp. "Seriously?"

"Come on, Steve. I just picked a fight with you instead of asking what you meant, and you're surprised I'm not sure you still want me anymore?"

Eddie can hear Steve breathing out, then in, then back out again, watches as he lets some of the tension bleed out of his body. "I think I picked some of that fight right back. I'm sorry, I just - all right, let's go back, and I'll listen without making assumptions, okay?"

Yeah, okay, Eddie can do that.

"Max told me what you said," Eddie starts again. "And it made me think about how smart you are." He wishes Steve were closer, so he could see his face better, at the same time as he wishes he couldn't see it at all. "How brave you are. How when you know what you want, you go for it, how you fight to keep it, how you own up when you make a mistake, how you work so hard to make all this work."

This is Eddie trying to be brave, he thinks. Trying to go for what he wants, to accept that they're going to have to work at this, that he's probably going to get hurt, that he has to trust that Steve will be willing to work past whatever it is that springs up.

It takes him a little too long, though, because after a few moments, Steve gently prompts, "Eddie?"

"Do you still want me?" he asks again. He didn't mean to, but it comes out anyway, all small and tentative.

"Eds," Steve breathes out. "I'm always going to want you."

He loves too much, and he gets it thrown back at him too often, Max had said, and Eddie swallows down the urge to ask him if he means it, if he'll still mean it the next time Eddie picks a fight, or every time he's an ass.

"I'm always going to want you, too," Eddie says.

Steve's hands twitch, and he looks like he's waiting for something - for a lie to show up on his skin, Eddie realizes, and Eddie knows he's going to have to do better than that.

"I want you," he says again. "Steve, I want you. I'll take you any way I can get you, but I just - this is stupid, I'm stupid. I'm making us both miserable because I was scared."

He's not surprised that's what gets Steve moving, and he comes over to sit by him on the couch.

"You're not stupid," Steve replies. "Not for being scared."

Eddie shakes his head. "No, but I am for giving into it. So I might get hurt, so what? I'm already hurting, wanting you so bad and not getting to have you, knowing you'd probably let me kiss you and not letting myself go for it."

Steve's looking at him, eyes all sharp and intense, like he's really listening to Eddie's every word, and hell if it doesn't make him feel just a little bit drunk on it.

"Talking with Max made me realize that I trust you. I trust you, with my life, with - fucking everything. I trust you to work through this with me, to figure out what works for us."

Steve runs a hand over his jaw, going up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Yeah?" he asks after a moment. "You really - you want to do this?"

"So fucking much," Eddie says.

Steve's whole face lights up in a smile, and he leans in, one hand resting on Eddie's knee. "That mean I can kiss you now?"

Eddie barely manages to get out a please before Steve's other hand is sliding over his jaw, slipping back to push his fingers into his hair and cup the side of his face. Steve holds him there as he kisses him, and it's-

It's not Eddie's first kiss. But it's his first kiss that's ever really meant anything, and the soft brush of Steve's lips against his makes his heart stutter in his chest.

Steve gives a little hum, low in his throat, and then he's tilting his head to get a better angle, and holy shit.

Eddie pushes forward eagerly, deepening the kiss until they're both panting for breath, and even then they don't pull away. Their foreheads press together, lips parted and just barely touching as they share the same air. His eyes have closed at some point, but now he opens them to find Steve looking back at him, and Eddie smiles.

"How long do you think until Robin notices we haven't come up?" he asks.

"I'm okay with figuring that out," Steve replies, closing the tiny bit of distance between them to kiss him again.

I've got a pretty good handle on the outline for the rest of this now, so I'd say we've got about four more parts left!

-----

Part 24

Tag list (always happy to add more): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

[pro-logue-epi-logue]

RANDOM DEVIL'S NIGHT THOUGHTS

~NUMBER 18~

Devil's Night-

Some things people forgets or pay less attention to:

1. Michael was also abused by his father.

2. Rika lost her father to accident but her mother to drugs and depression( she didn't die but she was not fine at all).

3. Banks mother made her steal things before she lived with the torrance's.

4. Banks mother SOLD her to damon when she was 12.

5. Damon saved Winter from an abusive family.

6. Damon saw all kinds of horror by the age of 11 in his house.

7. Only person who cared about winter is damon.

8. Winter gets left behind because of being blind, by her own family and even by the "found family" gang.

9. In the entire series only Emory pushed Will to do better and be better.

10. Will would have dies by 30 if Emory would not have came in the picture again.

11. Emory's parents died when she was 11.

Her brother who was fun suddenly became the thing of her nightmares.

She was abused financially, emotionally, physically and mentally for years.

12. Emory's abuse started when she was 11 and did not stop until she was 18 all of her formative years revolved around abuse.

13. Everytime Martin used to hit emory and she was brused or bleeding NO ONE used to put medication on her, NO ONE.

14. 11 years old Emory used to go to school with bleeding wounds or bruised body.😭😭

15. Emory only used to get hugs from her grandma even that stopped when she was 14.

16. Emory Scott lived a hellish life of abuse, got out of that house, got a better education and then became an ARCHITECT but it was always overlooked.

17. Emory was probably alone at her college graduation.

18. Emory fell in love with Will when she was 16 but had to let him go because she knew he would never understand her trauma( he didn't even when he was 26) and she would only bring him pain.

19. Emory always considered Alex as a friend but Alex was never a friend to Emory.

20. When Emory was getting rape threats( more than 4, yes i kept a count), was bleeding and getting brused, aydin was playing with her mind and rory wanted her to die, while not knowing anything about those boys, Alex was hiding safely in blackchurch, knowing what aydin can do, how taylor was a vile rapist and rory was a serial killer, and she called herself a "friend" of Emory.

21. Alex could have easily found 2 minutes to show herself the first day Emory arrived at blackchurch and explain everything, but she didn't, until she realized Aydin liked Emory, and she was jealous.

22. Alex was not planning to take Emory back to Thunderbay with them, hence not telling anyone about her from her satellite phone.

23. Alex was neither a good friend to Will nor to Emory.( she came to blackchurch for aydin, told a legit addict how she preferred him drunk, don't even get me started on how bitch she was to Emory example hitting a abuse survior even completelybeing aware of emmy's abuse).

24. Alex was always jealous of Emory and hated her all throughout Nightfall for no reason. (Will was literally in love with her since emory was 13,

Aydin whom Alex loved ignored her and never respected her in 7 years but respected Emory in 1 day and was a friend to emmy in blackchurch.

Micah and Rory were acting like brothers to emory within knowing her for only 1 day.

Will wasn't giving Alex time of the day in blackchurch and thinking of emmy

Emory faced life of difficulties but made something of her, architect, but alex hated what she did.

Emory had no one with her but was still standing strong but alex had the support of the friends and would be nothing without them

Emmy didn't need anyone but alex did

Every single boy in blackchurch respected and wanted to be close to emmy and save her but Everyone was ignoring alex, literally micah and rory didn't even gave her 1 look).

25. Alex was in love with Will and wanted to marry him.

26. The friend Will was to Alex he was never to Emory.

27. Will never understood Emory and her abuse.

28. Alex hated Emory but was fake acting as a friend and always looked down on Emory's and never leaft a chance to show her down( everyday she was visible in blackchurch,

Everytime aydin looked at emmy,

The entire train ride,

And even after the train ride in some scenes).

29. Alex COMPARING her difficulty life to Emory a literal surivor of child abuse and trauma was the most Shittiest thing.

( i get it alex had seen bad times butttttttt alex was thrown out of college when she was 18, started working as a luxury escort at 19,

But emmy lost her parents at 11,

Got brutally abused EVERYDAY from 11 to 18,

Lost the love of her life at 16,

Had to take care of her grandma since she was a child herself,

Had to make all adult decisions as a child.)

30. Alex thought Will was in love with her too.

31. Emory was more like Damon than anyone. Literally they are the 2 sides of same coin.

32. Emory at 16 always thought she will bring will down with her problems and he deserves to always smile so she let him go.

33. When emmy saw damon bury a body her first instinct was not to run but asked him if Will had anything to do with it.

34. Alex was going to use Will as plan B and marry him to make aydin jealous and make him feel less.

35. Emory was abused financially, emotionally, physically and mentally for years.

36. Emory had no one to lean on since she was 11 to she was 25, thats 14 YEARS!

37. Banks was the knly girl in a house full of gangsters and criminals.

38. Both Emmy's and Will's reaction after seeing a dead body is to dump it in ocean.

39. Will thought of Emory the first time he drowned and the second time too just like he did the third time.

40. Will was never in love with Alex.

41. Aydin had to fight his entire abusive family for Alex but when he came back She acted as if she was the only victim( as always).

42. Aydin was someone else's boyfriend when Alex wanted him and Alex was her friend, just like she wanted Will knowing full well Will and Emmy have a thing and just like she was Emmy's "friend".

43. Emory don't remember her parents.

44. Rika and Alex wanted the horseman validation. Seriously they were drooling for it.

45. Emory and Banks has no respect for The horseman. (Okay we all know this).

46. Kai got the biggest daddy issues.

47. Pd's decision to insert Alex in Nightfall was completely stupid, it ruined the book. WILLEMMY'S BOOK SHOULD HAVE BEEN THEIR ONLY!

48. Rika and Alex are not girls girl.

49. Rika knew Damon wanted to hurt Winter still didn't do anything.

50. Emmy was the only person someone can rely on.

51. Will knows how to tattoo someone and he tattooed most of his tattoos himself when he was in jail.

52. Both best friends Damon and Will are stalker they both stalked their Love interests. I mean guys Damon was is Winter's house and Will... this guy knew EVERYTHING about Emmy, on Saturday she works all day at gazebo, she gies to school, gazebo and her house not other places, her with her grandma.

[cafeinthemoon]

Ruins - Part XVIII

Chapter 18

Wordcount 2,3k

Title Part XVIII

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13 . 14 . 15 . 16 . 17

Symbols ⭕ . ➕. 💛

Warnings: none

Tagging @holdyourwine @lilacshouko @shirayuki-ayumi (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: So... its been a while lol First, let me tell you that this time I've spent without posting on social media was important, because I was really tired. I was stressed from work, I started college and was worried about all of this, so I barely had the time or the energy to sit in front of the notebook and write something, or even edit my drafts. I was feeling saturated from it, and sensed that if I continued to do it, the results, that is, the next chapters of my ffs, would be trash. I hope you understand this time.

This chapter is like a transition, and that's why it's short compared to others. The next one we will finally have the process of marriage and the rest, which I've been wanting to work on for too long! Now I'm really excited for that! So have this brief update and I see you in the next one :)

You didn’t wait until they approached your spot, neither you said anything to express your surprise: once you laid your eyes on them, you let go of Hades’ hand and, without waiting to see if he was going to follow you, you started running toward the group. There was no mistake: there you had your parents, your sisters and your niece, all of them marveled by the vision of the Gardens and cheered up by the fact that you were the first person they met once they crossed the Gates.

Your happiness deepened when you reached them at last: they were all well dressed and had refreshed expressions, indicating that, as much as your own travel to those lands, theirs was far from tiring despite the distance between Valhalla and Midgard.

As a little child who were left in a neighbor’s house for an entire day, once you saw your mother, you passed straight by a surprised Hermes and threw yourself in her arms. All the thoughts, anxieties and expectations you carried that morning came back at once, and you just started to cry.

– Mom – you mumbled – Is that really you, mom?

Though she responded to your gesture with equal emotion, even she was surprised with all those tears.

– My baby! – she laughed – You’ve missed us this much?

– You have no idea – you whispered back, now looking into her eyes.

Your father, who was watching everything with diversion, approached you two, and you opened your arms to hug him too.

– Y/n-chan, is it just me or are you a bit taller since the last time we’ve saw you? – he joked, putting his hand upon your head – What have they been feeding you?

You laughed until you were breathless: not only you’ve long passed the period of growth, but you were also the shortest among your sisters for most of your lives, and that has been a matter of interest for your father since you were, in fact, little. You used to get angry with this in the beginning, but later you’ve learned to send the provocation back to him, just like you did that time.

– Well, maybe you’ve became shorter, dad. It’s just a matter of perspective!

Everyone laughed, and you finally turned to your sisters.

Luna, who, just like you, shared physical resemblance with your mother, was dressed in blue and had her hair tied in a single, long braid; Helena, who was more like your father, had a pair of big eyes glowing with all the things she was seeing, and a curly hair left untied, spreading around her shoulders, where she had a rosy shawl to protect her against the evening’s breeze. Though she was way younger than you, she has passed you in height, and everything indicated that she would keep growing.

Luna was the one holding Ellie, your niece, and the baby let out a sequence of little screams when you arrived, eager to get your attention. She started laughing when you took her in your arms and the girls came to hug you.

– How are you doing, girls? – you asked between the hugs – You’ve never looked so beautiful!

– The same could be said about you – it was Helena’s calm response.

You laughed.

– They have really good cosmetics around here!

– I’m willing to try them, then! – Luna commented, enthusiastic.

Still holding the baby, you finally turned to Hermes.

– Thank you so much for bringing them here, Hermes-sama. It’s the best gift you’ve ever gave to me.

The gods’ messenger, always in his composed manners, nodded.

– I was just doing my job, y/n-san.

Ellie was the first to see when Hades approached, pointing at him with a curious expression. You turned and immediately felt the heat coming up to your cheeks: you’ve got so excited when you saw your relatives that you just left him behind, and only then you realized that this wasn’t the most appropriate thing to do, for despite being his bride and having built a strong, intimate bond with him, you were still human and he was a god, and that could be seen as offensive for anyone who would hear of this.

With this in mind, you stepped ahead and were going to apologize for your behavior, but you had no chance, for you were no longer the focus of the group: while Luna and Helena stared at him with a mixture of curiosity and fear, your parents, immediately understanding they had another divine being before them, bowed their heads in respect.

You soon took the responsibility of doing the presentations.

– So… This is Hades-sama, from Greece – you spoke in a low, shy manner – He’s the King of the Underworld and, as Hermes-sama might have informed you, my future husband.

Hades, now by your side, smiled with sympathy.

– It’s a beautiful family you have, y/n – and, approaching your parents and putting one hand on each one’s shoulders, – You are the family of my future wife. You bow to no one.

Their faces brightened up at those words, said in a soft, comforting tone, and you felt a sort of pride with the scene: if there was any chance of your family not accepting your relationship or not trusting him – after all, that marriage meant taking you away from them and to Hellheim – it disappeared the moment they were treated with genuine respect. You mother, in particular, was satisfied with what she was seeing, which you noticed in the clear message you’ve caught in her eyes: being the responsible for three girls who would soon start their own lives out of her guardianship, it was only natural that the kind of people with whom they’d chose to live was among her biggest worries, and, whatever she was expecting in this sense, to see one of her girls becoming a god’s wife was beyond her imagination; but, if you were happy with this, she wouldn’t ask for more.

Hades greeted your sisters with manners that reminded you of the old gentlemen you used to see in important events at your city, nodding and making brief comments about their beauty. You and the girls always made fun of this, because the old – and, many times, uninteresting – men were the only ones who would behave like this, but having that polite, handsome man making use of those manners without the affectation typical of those other ones convinced them of the honesty of his words, and that left them ecstatic.

Finally, he turned to you and to your niece, who has been observing him with attentive eyes since he arrived and had no problems in being picked up by him, laughing and stretching her little arms to the stranger who received those gestures with diversion.

– And this is my niece, Ellie – you introduced the baby while passing her to his hands; and, with a playful smile, – I guess she likes you!

– Me or my earring? – he asked in return, laughing as he tried to keep the girl’s hand away from his ear; and, to her, – Your curiosity surpasses my expectations, little one!

Though Ellie clearly didn’t understand what curiosity or expectations meant, she seemed to enjoy being held by Hades more than by yourself, because, after playing with her for a moment, she refused to return to you when you tried to pick her back, provoking everyone’s laughter.

And, as expected, your mother was the first to verbalize her opinion on this.

– You have a way with small children, my Lord! That’s surprising, to say the least!

Hades turned to her with a sort of prideful, nostalgic smile.

– I am the eldest of four brothers – he let Ellie hold his index finger – I still remember when each of them were just like Ellie-chan.

Hermes, who was observing everything in silence, was the first to reply that time.

– Let’s pray that this conversation never reaches Poseidon-sama’s ears, uncle.

– I agree with you, Hermes-sama – you, the only human there who met Poseidon, completed with a clever smile.

***

Hermes led your family to rooms on the wing of the apprentices on the human lodge, so that you would stay close to them for the entire period of their stay. It was established that, while your parents would have one room for themselves, your sisters and the baby would stay in a contiguous one, both located on the floor under your own room; to access them, you’d only need to walk down the stairs and cross a corridor for a few meters.

Just like the apprentices, they were all allowed to visit the Gardens and take their meals at the common room, and they enjoyed each opportunity in that sense. Well, actually, your parents decided to turn their stay at the blessed lands into a second honeymoon, something that was first pointed out by Helena and confirmed by you and Luna when you saw them walking with their hands entwined in the Gardens in the next morning of their arrival; your sisters, on their turn, had no difficulties in making friends with the other girls, particularly with Heracles’ disciples, so that later he came to express his contentment in knowing this, stating that you were lucky to have such excellent siblings.

***

Those days spent in the company of your beloved ones were the happiest since your arrival at the divine lands: having your relatives and the man you loved in the same place, and seeing them getting along, was more than your could ask for, even when you knew it wouldn’t last forever.

About this, you already have established your opinion, which was discussed later.

You were taking care of your flowers at the Green House. Your garden, by the way, was growing larger, and that only added to your contentment.

That afternoon, you were upon a small staircase, watering the flowers above your table, when you heard the door opening; you recognized the visitor’s steps and smiled.

– You’re late – you warned him as you walked down the stairs and put the watering can on the floor, beside the table, then crossed your arms to pretend irritation – We were supposed to to take a walk at the Gardens… but this was half an hour ago.

Hades, who was in fact the visitor, walked around the table and stopped by your side, surrounding you with his arms.

– Will you forgive me for this small crime, little one, if I reveal my reasons to you?

You shrugged.

– You can try.

As you imagined, he was with your parents.

– We’ve spent a wonderful time together – he explained – During which interesting conversations happened.

Your face heated up with that.

– Well, if these conversations didn’t include my parents narrating embarrassing episodes of my childhood that I intended to keep out of your knowledge, it’s okay for me.

This caused laughter from your partner, who replied that he then preferred to stay silent about the topics of the said conversations.

***

You had your arms leaning on the wood guardrail as your eyes followed the stream passing under the bridge. The murmur of the water, as sweet as the first time you heard it, was now like the music from a dream, from a memory you’ve long lost and then happily retrieved: yes, you were revisiting the places of the garden where you met for the second time, and now you were in the middle of that bridge where you had your first conversation about your dreams. Those events happened months ago, but to you it hasn’t been more than a few days, and the emotions you’ve experienced that day were vivid inside you.

Apparently, Hades had similar feelings towards it, and he showed it to you: you felt his fingers brushing your hair, then his hands bringing you closer, for a hug.

– Your mood seems lighter now that you have your family here, my y/n – he kissed the top of your head – The time you’ve spent with Heracles was really worth it.

– Indeed, it was – you murmured, passing your arms around his waist – Honestly, I feel even better now that they’re here. If I was scared by all the reasons I’ve told you before, now I know that it was silly of me to be afraid. There’s only room for happiness in my heart these days. Heracles-sama taught me to value the time I have with them instead of concentrating in the future days, in a time when they won’t be with me. And this is what I’m trying to do right now.

– A wise choice – Hades commented – And, judging by what I’ve learned from your parents, they must have the same view on this question. Have you already talked to them about it?

You sighed and moved away from his hug.

– Not yet. I know I have to do this, and they’re probably waiting for something of this type, but I’m still nervous about taking the first step.

– Well, if this helps, you can try to find a chance to bring out the subject during an informal moment. You know, sitting around a table and discuss things like a meeting between monarchs is quite stressful.

You turned to him with a frown.

– This is something stressful for you? – and, with a giggle, – You never told me that!

His lips stretched in a smirk in response.

– There are a few things I still haven’t told you, my girl. For example… – you felt his hand surrounding your waist and bring you back to him – I was sent straight to our future when I saw you holding your niece in your arms. You created such a beautiful scene together.

Your cheeks heated up.

– Our future? Are you talking about…? – you gasped – Hades, we will have a long time to think about this, don’t you think?

The god approached his lips from your ear, as if his next words shouldn’t be heard by anyone but you.

– I do. But there’s nothing wrong in speaking about this right now.

Part XIX

[pansear-doodles]

Ten things about the way i was raised:

1. Im not white. Im not american nor european. Im a filipino. No english ties- im fully native and lived in my country all my life. Somehow i can only speak english. No- they dont really teach us about US slavery and other global stuff until late high school and college (with the exceptions of history stuff that actually has something to do with the build and association of our country). No- I am not a politics person and I'm interested in cartoons rather than our grim reality. No- i didnt have much self awareness because all i cared was having a fun time.

2. I think i am stupid. Im not diagnosed in anything officially but i know im neurodivergent, as my list of interests are usually deemed "immature". Parents kept saying i was fine until i realized in senior high "oh ive been groomed for five years during my most crucial ages, depressed, have bare socialization, anxious all the time and possibly have aspergers". So yeah im a mess. My parents were no Chilli and Bandit. In fact, they didnt really interact with me much- always busy with work and lended me to babysitters and cousin mingling. I was a simple-minded kid who did not care about the atrocities that happened outside of this bubble.

3. A lot of things important to my political view and moral compasses had to be built from the internet. Simple stuff like "be kind to others so they will be kind to you"- yep that surface level courtesy stuff is there i learned through school. I knew racism was bad and uncomfortable though when i was elementary and I wasn't one to participate in home wreckage and other middle school naughty stuff. I followed orders as to not get punished and I believed in good (and eating clouds). I wasn't the most intellectual kid at school- all i cared about was the next episode of Fragglerock and maintaining an honors role so i dont piss off my parents.

4. Yet, despite my simple-mindedness that I can compare to Laios Dungeonmeshi, I somehow wounded up in a government science highschool which was... A horrible experience as I didn't share interests with anyone there. Everyone else was so different. I had no friends and I knew the people hated me because they did this cruel joke at a christian recollection- for everyone in a class to make notes to someone- whether positive or negative. Most of the notes I got were negative. I dont recall any good memories in highschool at all and it took a horrible mental toll on me. I wasnt actively bullied but I sure felt very unwanted.

5. The internet was practically my guide to how to life and even then i used it for entertainment. Parents only cared about tutoring me- talking about my grades and making friends with people in my class i dont like just to get by. And most of all, they always talked about my weight. My mother always compared me to other kids. I always ignore her but shes done this for decades. I still live under her roof. Whenever i try to ask her about stuff, she ignores it. She always reverts it to being about school or my weight. She's a wall. My dad on the other hand- hes just careless. He has anger issues and doesnt know how to take care of himself. Always fights with my mom. They never took me to therapy and or assign me to medication until i argued and fought for it a year ago.

6. Did i just casually say i was groomed for five years? Yeah. It was around when fnaf 1 was out. Met this guy when i was like 14 and admitted to him when I was 15. He was nine years older than me. I stooped to him. Vented constantly to him. Depended on him for validation and all that. I even exposed myself to him at 17. Didnt stop me or anything. Nobody else did or questioned it except a cousin who tried and a random person who played transformice. Will i say its fucked up nobody tried stopping me? Yes. Yes it was. But i dont blame them. It was all up to my groomer and I was under his manipulation and teachings and "normalizations" for years. As you can see, this really fucked me up. No. Im not telling his name, but if you can figure it out then congrats- dont harass him. It gave me a warped view on how people treat me and how i see other grooming situations (the many media that tackle implied grooming went over my head completely all the time until someone outright states it)

7. So how was i able to figure it all out and get the fuck out? I saw him faving nsfw art of a character who was a minor. Had an argument with him and it is within the weeks after i took off did i realize "oh. I was groomed." No. It wasnt somebody telling me this. I had to figure this shit out on my own that it was grooming. I was about 18 or 19 when I found out. Are you starting to see how fucked up i am? Having to only rely on myself and the little advice on others to live life? And i still do that, except people will shout at me first expecting i know this stuff beforehand because im an adult, instead of kindly nudging me.

8. So why do i never talk about this? Dont want the tragedies to make my identity. Id rather talk about funny fictitious characters finding their own happiness rather than having it all focus on my boring miserable life. I live off and breathe in fantasies. To become engrossed in something we cannot have and be in real life was my everything. Amidst this, it took me a while to realize my gender identity and myself as a person. It was only last year did i realize im genderfluid, and few years ago i was bisexual. My parents, being catholic conservative christians who use "gay" as one-note descriptions on the minority folks that they meet, would never talk to me about this. Hell, when i first did, they told me its taboo to talk about it. (And very recently i found out theyre accepting of gay people but... Are transphobic?????)

9. My personal motto has always been that real life is boring, miserable, awful and just generally shit. Exploring into fiction has always been my escape- an escape from whatever the fuck went wrong with me and whatever harsh issues i had to deal with growing up. Im always surprised of the memes and stuff i laughed at as a kid were actually discriminatory and racist and whatever holes that fill me with such ignorance. Fractions, they could teach me math all the time, but they never taught me to be self-aware, all when they expected me to. I couldnt read the room. If 16 year olds are smart in political stances, then me as a 16 year old would be the equivalent of a ten year old putting glue on his hands without much care about our economic crisis. Im not saying these childlike qualities of mine were bad- but it came at these costs. I was completely air headed and reality came crashing to me like a truck and angry people expecting that I shouldve known better when I didnt and couldnt have before then.

10. Now im in my 20s. Im expected to know college, taxes and adult stuff. Im expected to be more social. To be more uncomfortable right away. Im in this fandom where every fucking step could be a minefield. Every fandom was. Nobody cares about where you come from right? People always default you as someone who had the same experiences at you until you start to tell them how fucked up your life is and suddenly oh wow things make sense- for how they act, think, respond, believe. The idea of me walking around with the label of "grooming victim" at all times to explain my behaviors is a disgusting and cruel idea.

"You shouldve known this because youre an adult" this. "You shouldve known better" that. The ability to understand people is dead if you will continue to assume every person who walks before you went through the same life experiences as you.

So now do you know a major reason why the rain world fandom and shipping container was so significant to me? It was my second ever fandom with a concious mind after having realized a majority of my teenage years were robbed from me, and realizing how fucked up it all was.

[wishwars]

ACSWY Historical Timeline

Not me desperately creating a timeline to keep track of all the small morsels of Will and Mike’s past history sporadically dropped in @campbyler’s “a cruel summer with you” fic because I’m going insane wondering what happened... 

They are currently 19 in 2023, having just finished their first year at college.

2022 (18 yo) - 

Will pushed Mike off the dock and he had trouble swimming apparently lol

But Mike also apparently shoved Will in the lake at some point

[not at camp] “follow the sparks (i’ll drive)” occurs

2021 (17 yo) - 

Something made Mike’s anger at Will “return with a real vengeance”

Something happened that had them on even footing that they “do not talk about” (both POVs mention this year as off-limits conversationally lol) [next bullet point?]

Will had a breakup and Mike was apparently there for him “as much as Max and El” (references to what Mike did in Ch 1)

[Joyce and Hopper get married]

2020 (16 yo) - Their first year as junior counselors.

[not at camp] The Pasta incident (Mike got sauce all over him and Will saw the mess over FaceTime)

[Mike came out as bisexual this year, though not at camp]

[Joyce and Hopper move in together]

2019 (15 yo) - The year “their group of friends really became a group.”

The slime incident (which caused Mike to have to shave his head--he retaliated in some way that also caused Will to have to shave his head)

Justin Bieber was Mike’s “accidental top artist on Spotify” XD

Will stopped wearing polo shirts lol

“Mike and El break up (right before camp/right at the start)”

[Hopper and Joyce are dating]

[Hopper officially adopts El]

2018 (14 yo) - 

Things go bad(?) as Will is now “the worst part” of Mike’s summers

The first lake incident occurred (where Mike ended up in the water after the canoe tipped and Will laughed at him)

Will apparently hid in the art room a lot

Mike and Will started the Great Food Fight (with Mike getting egg on Will)

Dustin and Mike did gave “the worst rendition of “baby” by justin bieber to ever be heard in all of human history” at the talent show, subsequently ending the annual talent shows lol

Mike and El start dating at the end of the summer

[Hopper fosters El]

2017 (13 yo) - The boys’ first year at camp.

They kissed (probably at an end-of-summer camp dance during “Fearless” by Taylor Swift) and it was Mike’s first kiss

As yet undated incidents:

Will alludes to Mike previously orchestrating something for revenge over what happened when they were 14

A previous time they were on even footing: “the last time they’d been on even footing like this had been…” [separate from 2021 incident, what happened??]

[Either 2017 or 2018 is when Jonathan and Steve are sent to the Isolation Cabin]

Feel free to let me know in the notes if I forgot/misplaced anything!

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Nobody's Fool: Chapter 28

Pairing: EddieXReader

Summary: You have bartended for years after you were forced to drop out of college due to family circumstances. You have dated your fair share of musicians, had your heart broken by one particular one, and have learned they are not be trusted. You have sworn off of them for the rest of your life. Then, one night, a new band plays at the bar, and against your better judgement, you can't help noticing the lead singer and guitar player. Could he possibly be different from the ones who came before him?

Warnings: 18+ Only due to eventual smut and language. There is also a toxic family relationship with a narcissistic mother if that is triggering for you.

Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27

Nine Months Later

“Seriously, what are you planning?” you asked. 

“It’s a surprise,” Eddie laughed. “Shit, you are so bad at surprises.”

“I don’t like not knowing what’s going on,” you pouted. “You’ve been secretive for two weeks and now I have to go shopping with Nancy and do exactly what she tells me. It’s weird.”

“It’s not weird. I'm trying to be romantic, damn it,” he said, kissing you. “So just get with the program.”

“Fine, but I don’t have to be happy about it.”

“You are so goddamn stubborn.”

“And you love me anyway,” you smiled.

“That I do,” Eddie agreed, pulling you close. 

The last nine months had been pure bliss. You should have taken a sledgehammer to those barriers you'd tried to put up against him long before you did. You knew you would never get bored of him, never want to look at anyone else and you also knew he wouldn’t either. You had never been so sure of anything as you were of the two of them. 

Your mom had to do time, six months in the county jail. You had not spoken to her again since that night when she hung up on you. Your mom had tried to call collect a few times but it stopped after you had refused the calls every time. Yes, that woman was your mother, she had given you life, but that was all she had done. You were at peace with your decision to cut that diseased limb from your family tree. You didn't owe her anything.

You had begun seeing a therapist and Eddie had been completely supportive of your decision. The therapist was the one who recommended that you walk away from your toxic parents and embrace the family you had created around yourself instead. Following that advice had been like finally dropping the anchor that had been dragging you under the tides for far too long. 

You realized you didn’t need to focus on those you had been stuck with through blood. Eddie, Jen, Robin, Nancy, Steve, and the others were your family now. You couldn’t have created a more perfect support system than them.

The therapist also helped you see that you had never really been in love with Sebastian. You hadn’t mourned the loss of him in your life. You had mourned the idea that there was someone out there who loved you. You honestly wished you would have made the choice to go to therapy a long time ago, but it was hard to admit that you were such a mess that you needed professional help. Your friends hadn’t made you feel embarrassed about it once and Eddie had been your biggest advocate, only wanting you to do what you needed so you could be your best self.

After Nancy arrived, she dragged you from the house and drove you into town. You tried to get her to spill what was going on but she was tight lipped. She parked and the two of you headed into one of the boutiques downtown. You were immensely confused. This place sold fancy dresses and stuff. What would you need from here? You weren't sure you even owned a fancy dress. You and Eddie were not exactly fancy people.

“Well, come on,” Nancy smiled. “First stop is picking out a pretty dress.”

“And why do I need a pretty dress?”

“No questions, remember?” Nancy reminded you. “I promise it will all be worth it.”

You sighed but followed her in. Nancy must have had you try on fifteen different dresses before she clasped her hands, squealing at the last one. It was sage green. The bodice had spaghetti straps and was fitted with applique leaves. The bottom flared out like a ball gown. Layers of tulle flared out around you, vines of the applique leaves winding down it in various places.

“Oh my god, this is it,” Nancy squealed. “It’s gorgeous. It brings out your eyes and it looks so like spring with everything blooming and growing.”

“Okay, so glad we found the perfect dress. Just wish I knew what the hell I needed a poofy dress for,” you sighed.

Nancy rolled her eyes, “Seriously, just stop being such a pain in the ass and go with it. Okay, take it off and bring it out so I can pay.”

“Why are you paying for my dress?”

“Eddie is paying for the dress,” she said. “He gave me the money already.”

You sighed, changing out of the dress and back into your comfortable jeans and shirt. Nancy paid and you headed back to the car. You really wanted to know what the hell was going on. This was so strange. You wound up at Nancy and Steve’s house. You followed her in and Nancy told you to sit as she began gathering stuff from her bathroom. Walking out, she had a make-up case, a curling iron, hairspray, and way too many bobby pins.

“Whoa, what are you doing?”

“Hair and make-up,” Nancy said as if it should be obvious. “We need to make you beautiful for that very beautiful dress. Now, sit still and let me work my magic.”

You sat, reminding yourself that you loved Eddie more than life itself and this seemed to be important to him. So, you allowed Nancy to do your make-up and mess with your hair. It wasn’t that you didn’t wear make-up or fix your hair but you were usually pretty minimal. Your whole get ready and get out the door routine took about fifteen minutes. This was becoming a two hour affair. 

“Okay, all done,” Nancy finally said, smiling. “Now, go put the dress on.”

“Fine,” you muttered, grabbing the dress and heading into her bathroom. You pulled it on, managing to zip up the back and turned to look in the mirror. Holy shit. Nancy was like a fairy godmother. Your hair was pulled up, with a few soft curls framing your face on each side. Your face looked soft and pretty. Damn, you even had cheekbones and really long lashes. You didn’t think you'd ever thought you'd looked so pretty before. Nancy had highlighted your eye color perfectly and the dress just made them pop more. 

“Wow,” Nancy breathed as you walked out of the bathroom. “You look so beautiful.”

“Thank you. You’re in a fancy dress too,” you commented, noticing she had changed into a purple satin dress. 

“Yep,” she simply said. “Let’s go.”

You were back in the car, but you were a bit more interested in paying attention this time. You assumed this was your final destination and you were dying to know what this was all about. However, Nancy pulled up to Hawkins High School and you were even more confused than you had been before. Seriously, what was going on?

“The high school?” you asked.

“That’s where we are,” Nancy said. “Come on.”

Nancy got out and headed into the school. You followed, looking around. You had been here quite a few times over the last nine months to surprise Eddie with lunch on days when you had to work at night. That way you could still sneak in some time together. But you didn’t know what the hell you were doing here on a Saturday night. Nancy was leading you toward the gym. When you got to the door, she stopped.

“Go on in,” she smiled.

“Okay…”

You pushed the door open and froze in place. What were you seeing? The whole gym was decorated in glittering silver stars, sheets of tulle fell from the ceiling with twinkle lights twined through. Blue and silver balloons were in bunches all around with a disco ball hanging from the middle of the ceiling. There was a big cardboard painting of Van Gogh’s starry night as a backdrop for photos. There was a table with a punch bowl and a variety of snacks. Hanging above the table was a big banner that said “Starry Night Prom 1993.”

“What in the…” you began.

“Welcome to your prom.”

You spun and there was Eddie. He looked so handsome in black jeans, a white button up shirt, and a black jacket. His hair was pulled back into a bun, a few strands falling loosely around his face. 

“Jesus, you look absolutely beautiful. That dress is amazing,” he breathed, walking over to you. 

“Thank you. I...Eddie, what is all this?” you asked, laughing and gesturing to the gym around you.

Eddie held up a box, opening it. Inside was a beautiful corsage of white and pink roses with baby’s breath. He slid it onto your wrist. 

“Well, you told me you didn’t get to go to your prom, and even though I went and mine was lame, I didn’t want you to miss out,” he said softly, his lips pushed out in an adorable little pout. “Besides, I wanted a do-over prom because if I would have gone with you, it would have been perfect.”

“This is insane,” you breathed, looking up at him. “Did you do all this?”

“God no,” he said quickly, laughing and shaking his head. “I asked my boss if we could have the gym for the night. But the decorations, I had a lot of help with. I should say they were mostly Nancy, Jen, Robin, and Vicki. This gym would not look nearly this good if it would have been just me.”

“They did an amazing job. I love the theme. It’s beautiful,” you said.

“Oh, that was my idea,” he smiled. “I was thinking about our first night together.”

“Aww. That's so sweet. You are so sweet. Thank you.” You wound your arms around his neck, kissing him. Your heart felt like it could dance out of your chest and across the room. Damn, this man was so perfect. “So, we’re just going to dance and snack, just me and you?”

“Nope. Come on in!”

The doors opened and in came Jen and Kyle, Nancy and Steve, Robin and Vicki, and Jeff and Gareth with two girls you didn’t know. You burst out laughing. They were all dressed as if it was prom even though they were all twenty five and well past their prom days. 

“Oh my god!” you yelled, clapping your hands.

“I think someone spiked the punch!” Robin yelled, shaking a bottle of vodka. 

You were completely overwhelmed. You had spent so much time thinking you weren't worthy of love, thinking no one would ever care enough about you. Looking around this gym, you remembered what Eddie had said to you so long ago. The people you choose are often worth more than the ones you’re stuck with. He was so right. These people in this room were worth everything and they all loved you and thought you were worthy. This right here, this was your family, and you had never wanted anything more.

Steve walked over to a giant boombox and suddenly you heard a familiar song coming through the speakers. Eddie took you in his arms and you pressed your cheek against his chest, your arms wrapping around his back, your hands gripping his shoulders. 

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can’t help falling in love with you

Shall I stay

Would it be a sin

If I can’t help falling in love with you

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can’t help falling in love with you

“I love you Edward Munson,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes as you swayed softly to the music. “This is so wonderful. No one has ever done anything so thoughtful for me before. How did I get so lucky?”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You were smart enough to hop on the back of my bike.”

“Such a smart decision,” you agreed with a smile.

“The smartest.”

“Can I keep you?” you asked, gazing up at him, your hand resting on his cheek. 

“Forever sweetheart,” Eddie grinned, his lips finding yours again. 

Being in his arms with the sound of your friends dancing and laughing, filled you with the same warmth you used to feel from sitting in the sunshine. The warmth melted away all of the worries and concerns and fears you had ever felt. At this moment, all of the walls you had tried to build for so long were demolished completely and you knew you'd never have to rebuild them again.

The End

Thank you so much for reading!

Taglist

@tlclick73 @bebe07011 @emma77645 @corrodedcoffincumslut @babeyglo @kimmi-kat @bblunuh @vintagehellfire @hellfire--cult @avobabe87 @just-a-sewer-goblin @emilyslutface @micheledawn1975 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @emxxblog @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @lma1986 @kittydeadbones @kaelaiscool

[bluejaysandblackbats]

It Takes A Village

Fandom: YJ98, Flashfam, DC Comics

Summary: After witnessing Bart murder someone, his friends scramble to cover Bart's tracks and stumble upon an international scandal as a result.

(Minor background: Bart took a gap year, and Conner did two years of community college. This starts shortly after Bart's 19th birthday. So, Conner and Jenni are 20, Bart and Cissie are 19, Tim and Cassie are 18, I made Greta 17 for the sake of the fic, and Judy is 15. I decided to make Owen 22 and Thad 16 for plot reasons. Clark and Conner are brothers in this fic, and Clark is 12 years older for the sake of this fic, so he's 32.)

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Bart Allen, Conner Kent, Judy Garrick, Jay Garrick, Joan Garrick, Cissie King-Jones, Cassie Sandsmark, Tim Drake, Greta Hayes, Jenni Ognats, Thad Thawne, Owen Mercer, Meloni Thawne, Clark Kent, Wally West, Linda Park, Courtney Whitmore, President Thawne

Relationship(s): KonBart, CissieCassie, WallyLinda

Additional Tags: Serial Killer AU, No Powers AU, Angst, Dark Comedy, Bart Allen Kills in This Fic, Minor Thad Thawne, Separated in Childhood, Some Smut in This

Chapter One: Bubbling

It burned through him like a fever. Rage. A persisting bloodlust bubbled just beneath his skin, whooshing in his ears, twisting his insides, and tightening his throat and jaw. Rage. The emotion that clothed his grief and buried the ache that came with it. Nothing soothed the wildfire burning beneath his skin the way inflicting pain did. It started when he was a child, coming home with scraped knees and scuffed palms. Helen picked up on it when he was a high school freshman, poking and prodding at him for an explanation. Instead of answering, he found more discreet ways to quell the unspeakable rage inside. He turned to sports, training until his hands were calloused and his chest burned. Cheer and track pushed his body to its limits time and time again. Then he injured his knee in high school. 

The emotional pain he felt flooded his system. Not to mention the struggle of being uprooted again. He started living with Jay and Joan Garrick when he landed wrong during a cheer competition. Jay and Joan tried to support him through it, but he retreated into his mind. All through high school and the summer after graduation… Bart retreated into parties and people and eventually found himself across state lines in his best friend’s room, soaking wet, and trembling with fury. Conner touched his arm, trying to find Bart under layers of thought. He came to, feeling Conner’s gentle hand cupping his face. “Bart, did you hear me? You’ve gotta take off these wet clothes before you freeze half to death,” Conner whispered. Bart swallowed hard and nodded. He stripped off the wet clothes, tossing them in Conner’s hamper while Conner pulled a sweatshirt over Bart’s head. “What happened to you? How’d you get here? Why’d you come here?” 

“I don’t know… You felt—. It felt like the safest place for me to be,” Bart shook his head, smiling gently, smiling for Conner. No rage for him. Never for Conner. And Conner in all his wonder was unrelentingly kind. His eyes searched Bart’s for something to latch onto, to love… And he found something. Conner always found something to latch onto. Conner was a bottomless pit of love and affection—part of his unending empathy for others.  “What are you—? What are you looking at?” Bart asked. 

“You said it was safe here… It is safe… It is,” Conner reassured him. “I’ll get you something else to wear. Take a shower. I’ll explain to Ma and Pa in the morning.” Bart obeyed, still feeling hazy as he took the clothes Conner handed to him. He showered but blacked out between the shower and Conner’s bed. Conner watched Bart with big concerned eyes as he parted Bart’s bangs. “Conner? Are you scared of me?”

“No… I’m not scared,” Conner answered, “Why would I be?” When the rage quieted, Bart usually struggled to feel anything. Reaching forward, Bart felt a heartbeat. Not his. It wasn’t until he looked where his hand was that he realized… It was Conner’s heart. 

“This is my favorite feeling,” Bart breathed the words like a neverending sigh. He couldn’t feel anything internally, so he reached out for something in Conner, and Conner reached back. It wasn’t the first time Bart spent the night at Conner’s. He allowed his hand to drift from the warm fabric of Conner’s pajama shirt to his neck and then his lips. He swiped his thumb across Conner’s bottom lip to his cheek and smiled. “You’re my favorite.” 

“Bart, you’re high… You’re high,” Conner warned him. He took Bart’s hands and hummed gently. “Nuh-uh… We’ll talk about it in the morning.” The warmth of Conner’s hands grounded Bart’s little fists. It reigned him in and allowed him a moment to rest. He fell asleep holding Conner’s hands. 

Conner and Bart spent every moment of that summer by Conner’s side. They were inseparable, but he didn’t dare to speak on that first night after the incident. Conner’s bedroom set the scene for their summer. Sometimes their friends visited, but Bart sought something different that summer. That’s how it started. It might’ve saved his life. They sat in his window when Mr. and Mrs. Kent weren’t home, sipping beers and hanging outside the bedroom window. Rage quieted inside him, blossoming into something sweet. Perhaps it was infatuation. Behind locked doors,  Bart discovered a wealth of different emotions. Things he’d read about but never felt. 

It was the week before Bart had to leave for school that he decided to revisit the feelings that had stirred inside him months before. “Keep this quiet. Keep it mine,” Bart muttered in his mother tongue one night. He withheld that part of his life from Conner until that moment. It was a fragment of his shattered past, but he offered it without expectation. Conner stared into his eyes, finding whatever it was that he liked, and cocked his head.

“What does that mean?” Conner asked. Bart’s lips twitched, threatening to form a smile as he touched his chest. 

“Keep this quiet,” Bart whispered in English, pausing to tap to the rhythm of his heart. “Keep it mine.” He touched Conner’s chest, making a circle where his heart was. “It’s a quote my uncle taught me when he used to visit. It’s from a poem about two hearts beating as one… It’s about love.” Conner’s smile faded. 

“Bart,” Conner whispered. Bart looked into Conner’s eyes and leaned forward. Conner met him halfway, sliding his hand over Bart’s shoulder. “Are you sure?” 

Bart nodded, allowing Conner to cup his cheek. Fingers tangled in loose, soft curls. Bart’s impatience won over, and they knocked foreheads as Bart rushed a quick kiss. Conner pulled back, wincing as he rubbed his forehead. “Easy there, cowboy,” Conner chuckled. Conner offered a few quick pecks. Each one increased in length until Bart’s lips parted. 

Bart gasped, pulling away to clutch his chest. It pulled him from the numbness of the moment and forced him into a slew of conflicting emotions. Laying back on Conner’s bed, he stared at two trembling hands. He stared at his trembling hands. “Bart?” Conner whispered. “Are you having a panic attack?” Bart didn’t answer as he struggled to catch his breath. He hid his face under one of Conner’s pillows. Conner lay beside him, rubbing circles on his hand. “We don’t hafta—.” 

“It’s not—. It’s not that,” Bart interrupted, “My heart’s beating so fast.” 

Conner lay his head on Bart’s chest. “Yeah… That’s pretty fast. I’d almost mistake you for alive,” Conner teased. Bart laughed. It wasn’t fake. Bart often feigned emotions to blend in and hide the person he was inside, but Conner made him feel things he didn’t have to hide. “Let’s check under the hood.” Conner lifted Bart’s shirt and kissed his way up Bart’s stomach to his chest. “We’re getting there.” 

Bart tossed the pillow to the side, laughing as he pressed his palms to his eyelids. Conner pulled the quilt over his head. “Conner?” Bart whispered. 

“Want me to stop?” Conner asked. 

“No… Keep going. I’m okay now,” Bart answered, “But aren’t you hot under there?” 

Conner sat up, removing his shirt before giggling against Bart’s neck. He straddled Bart’s waist, waiting for Bart to sit up and meet him halfway. Conner peppered Bart with kisses. Neck. Cheek. Mouth. Neck. Breathlessly holding on to each other as Conner pulled away, staring into Bart. Bart stared back, chewing his lip as he looked down between them. “How far do you wanna go?” Conner asked. 

“I can’t… get naked… while your parents are in the next room… But I don’t want you to stop,” Bart panted. 

“Alright, is this good?” Conner asked as he nipped at Bart’s earlobe. Bart’s body lit up. His skin was aflame as he searched for something to say. “Maybe this one.” Conner nibbled his other earlobe. He moaned. Conner panicked and covered Bart’s mouth. The dark-haired boy laughed. “Shhh… Okay?” Silence. Stillness. “Are you getting hard?” 

“Is that not okay?” Bart asked. Conner laughed into Bart’s shoulder. “What?”

“You’re so hot,” Conner chuckled as he pushed Bart down. 

Bart raised his good leg, pushing against Conner as Conner wriggled against him, trying to find a comfortable position. Bart kissed Conner’s neck, his ears ringing as he struggled to stay in the moment. Guiding Conner’s face to meet his gaze, they shared a kiss. Bart’s eyes remained open. “Conner,” Bart whispered. 

“Does something hurt?” Conner asked. 

“No, it doesn’t hurt,” Bart whispered as he focused in. Conner looked at him. “Talk to me… I like to hear your voice.” 

Conner leaned close to his ear kissing his neck before whispering, “I had a dream we fucked once.” Conner slid a hand down Bart’s shorts. “I like the real thing better.” 

Bart’s heart sped up as his hips stuttered. Conner thumbed at Bart’s tip, smiling at the little bit of precum drooling from his head. Bart bit his lip and swallowed hard. “Are you close?” Conner asked. No answer. It took everything in Bart to suppress another moan. Conner removed his hand, spat into it, and returned to Bart’s dick. “How do you like to touch yourself? Do you like it here?” Conner slid his hand down Bart’s shaft and cupped his balls. Bart groaned from the back of his throat, trying to stay silent. “Or maybe you’ve touched here.” Conner put pressure on Bart’s taint with his thumb. 

“Aah,” Bart moaned lazily at the sensations that flooded his brain and body. Conner started rubbing against him as he felt Bart up. 

“Or maybe you twist your hand like this when you jerk it,” Conner suggested as he rotated his hand up and down Bart’s shaft. Bart’s propped leg dropped to the bed, and he rolled his hips, arching into every stroke. Conner moaned as Bart’s body collided with his. “That’s it isn’t it?” Bart kissed Conner’s neck, raking a hand through thick black curls. Conner laughed from the back of his throat.

“Keep going,” Bart whispered. Bart’s stomach heated up as he felt a tight sensation in his balls, and his dick twitched in his shorts. 

The bed creaked as they rubbed and frotted against each other. Bart’s throat tightened and his body tensed, going rigid as he orgasmed, drooling cum through his shorts. He bit down on Conner’s shoulder. “God,” Bart grunted as he came in Conner’s hand. 

Conner let go, grinding against Bart as his tip peaked out of his shorts. The friction hurt, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from frotting against Bart. “I’m sorry… I’m almost there,” Conner whispered between grunts. Bart smiled, gently tugging Conner’s hair. “Harder, I’m so close,” Conner whimpered. Bart gave his hair a yank. It was enough to get Conner all the way there. Conner moaned, throbbing as he shot a few ropes onto Bart’s sweatshirt. Conner rolled off of Bart, covering his face as he trembled. 

“I shouldn’t have—. I don’t wanna get you in trouble,” Bart whispered. Conner chuckled. 

“I’ll start the load in a minute… I’ll tell them I spilled queso in the bed,” Conner replied, “Are you okay? I thought I was losing you for a second earlier.” 

Bart cleared his throat. “Mhm… I—. I’ve been spacing out a lot… Going numb. Sometimes I lose time… Thanks for talking me through it,” Bart whispered. It was the first time he’d mentioned the numbness to anyone. 

Conner furrowed his brows and went wide-eyed as he touched Bart’s shoulder. “That must be scary for you… How long has this been going on?” Conner questioned as he leaned over and used tissues to wipe himself off. 

“A few months,” Bart confessed, “That night… Remember when I came here soaking wet a few months ago?”

“Yeah… You tried to tell me something that night, but I thought you were high… Why didn’t you tell me before?” Conner asked. 

“It didn’t matter… You always look after me. I have to tell you now because—. Well… You should know just in case we do this again,” Bart replied. “What did I say?” 

Conner pouted as he studied Bart’s face. He sighed before pulling out his phone and playing a voice recording. 

“I will never be free as long as my family remains separated by people in power. We’re all innocent victims… I won’t stop until I’ve paved my road home with their blood,” the recording of Bart was in Interlac. 

Bart hugged his knees. “I don’t think I said that to you. It was something I remembered,” Bart replied. He masked the internal horror he felt. Horror at the secret delight that filled his stomach, leaving him guiltily full. So full of hope at those vengeful words. 

“I gotta shower, but we can talk—.” 

“Can I come with you?” Bart asked. Conner kissed him. Bart’s skin tingled with excitement, rage, and lust. He pulled away, shivering excitedly as he shook his hands out. 

Conner nodded, taking Bart’s hand as they snuck down the hall holding a change of pajamas. They went to the restroom, and Bart sat on the counter, watching Conner run a bath. Bart crossed his ankles, fidgeting as he tried to stop the shaking. “What’s the matter?” Conner asked, stopping to push Bart’s bangs out of his face. “Shaking?” He nudged Bart’s cheek with his nose before kissing his cheek. “Still with me?” 

“Yeah… I’m here. My thoughts are racing, but I’m okay,” Bart replied. Conner smiled, studying Bart’s expression. Bart grinned. “I’m okay.” Conner nodded. “Hey? Conner, can I ask you something?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Conner replied. 

Bart chuckled with his tongue in his cheek. “How do you jack off?” Bart asked as he pantomimed masturbation. Conner grabbed his hands, laughing as he hid his face in Bart’s shoulder. 

“Shut up,” Conner giggled as he stripped down. Bart took his sweatshirt off. “Want me to wash your hair?” 

Bart nodded as he jumped down and undressed. Conner got in the tub and reached for Bart. “Water’s nice… Come on,” Conner whispered. Bart stepped into the tub, and Conner wrapped his arms around Bart, kissing Bart’s cheek. 

“You said you’d wash my hair,” Bart reminded him. Conner took a cup and covered Bart’s forehead.

“Tilt your head back,” Conner gently commanded. Bart obeyed while Conner wet the freckled young man’s hair. The warm water kept Bart present, and he shut his eyes. “Did you wash this morning?” 

“Uh-huh,” Bart answered as Conner reached for the conditioner. 

Conner squeezed the contents of the bottle into his hand. “I sleep better when you’re here,” Conner whispered. 

“You have trouble sleeping?” Bart asked. 

“No, but—. But it makes it easier to dream about you when you’re this close,” Conner answered as he massaged conditioner into Bart’s hair. Bart hummed pleasurably. “Remember when you shaved your head?”

“Don’t remind me,” Bart chuckled. 

“Why’d you do it?” Conner smiled. 

Bart’s smile faded as Conner rinsed his hair. “I wanted to look so different no one would notice me,” Bart answered honestly. Conner’s fingers raked through his hair, and he tapped Bart’s shoulders. 

“Um… You can open your eyes. And Bart… You’ve been a popular guy my whole life,” Conner whispered, “I never thought you had a problem with it. Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I don’t know… I don’t always—. I don’t have a problem with being popular… I just—. I don’t get it,” Bart replied. 

Silence fell between them as Conner rested his forehead against Bart’s neck. Bart yawned without meaning to. “You can pull the plug so I can shower this conditioner off,” Conner whispered. 

“Right… Okay, do you want me to—?” 

“No, I just wanna—. We can swap spots for a second,” Conner awkwardly replied. They shuffled around in the tub while Conner grabbed his loofah and turned the shower on. “Have you called Jay and Joan lately?” 

It’d been weeks since Bart went home. Their missing daughter resurfaced, and he had to leave for college anyway. “Nuh-uh… Their daughter came home six months ago… And I’m leaving. It’s a weird time,” Bart answered. Conner frowned. 

“I thought the same thing when Clark visited home the first time… They’re gonna miss you. You’ve lived with them for three years,” Conner reassured him. Bart scrubbed his skin, trying to ignore Conner’s kind words. “You mean more to them than you think. You were with them for some of the toughest years of their life… That means some—.”

“I lived with Wally for a few weeks, Roy for a few months, Max and Helen for two and a half years, and Jay and Joan—. Well, you learn after a while that things like this aren’t meant to last. Conner, tonight was fun. I don’t wanna talk about home,” Bart muttered. 

“Okay… But—. But Bart, was tonight just fun?” Conner asked. He turned to Bart with his big blue doe eyes. 

“What? No. I didn’t mean it like—. I feel stupid. I meant—. I’ve wanted this for forever,” Bart clarified. 

Conner grinned. “Are you gonna miss me?” Conner asked. 

“That’s an extra hour’s difference. I’m sure I’ll manage,” Bart joked. Conner grinned. A joke was a good sign. “Who’s helping you move?” 

“Clark, Tim, and Cassie,” Conner answered. Bart knew that already. Their friend group was tight-knit from the moment they met, all outsiders in their own right. Bart loved them for it. Bart would never admit it, but he needed them. “And you?”

“Roy, Cissie, and Greta… Well… Technically, Cissie’s not helping. She’s moving into the dorm with me,” Bart replied. They switched spots after Conner rinsed off, and Bart washed up quickly with Conner’s loofah. Conner squinted. 

“Hey, Bart?” Conner asked. Bart turned facing him. “Did you ever use my loofah before this?” 

“I always use your loofah,” Bart answered before turning around. 

“Hm… Uh—. Okay. Do you like—? Do you use people’s loofahs at their houses all the time?” Conner asked. 

“No. That would be weird,” Bart replied matter-of-factly as he turned the water off. “Thanks for washing my hair… It felt nice.” 

Conner kissed his cheek. “Anytime,” Conner replied, slipping on boxer shorts. Bart buttoned a pajama shirt before putting on a pair of boxer shorts. Conner preened in the mirror, before noticing the marks on his neck. He turned to Bart and pushed his hair away from his neck. “We might’ve gotten a little carried away. I’ve been a little—. Well… It’s been a few days.” 

Bart turned the bathroom light off. “I haven’t in a few months… Not consciously anyway,” Bart mumbled as he headed down the hall. Bart noticed the hall closet was cracked at the end of the hall.

“Months?” Conner whispered. 

“A couple of times in my sleep, but other than that… Nothing,” Bart whispered. Monotone as he started fading out again. 

“Was it okay?” Conner asked. Bart stopped at the door, trying to remember what it felt like. “You can be honest with—.” 

“I—. I have to help you change the sheets… But I can’t—. I didn’t want it to end,” Bart answered. It sounded technical and not emotional at all. Conner turned Bart around and caressed his cheek. 

“Bart? Are you with me?” Conner questioned. The soft tone of Conner’s voice wasn’t enough to pull him back. “I’m about to sit you down, and I want you to tell me how you feel. Are you cold? Is it warm?” 

Conner changed the sheets quickly and put a different quilt down. “Conner? I don’t know… Can you—?” 

“Bart, it’s okay. Are you tired?” Conner asked. He hugged Bart, rubbing his back and whispering gentle reassurances. Eventually, Bart went limp in his arms. “Oof… Okay. I’ve got you.” Carrying Bart was easy, but the ordeal left him nervous. He held Bart and listened to him breathe until it lulled him to sleep.

[dollystuartwrites]

Stray Gods - Chapter 29

Pairing: Gods!OT8 x !F!Reader

Genre: romance, friends to lovers, polyamory, mystery, supernatural, angst, fluff, smut

Wordcount: 3507

Chapters:  [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6] - [7] - [8] - [9] - [10] [11] -  [12] - [13] - [14] - [15] - [16] - [17] - [18] - [19] - [20] [21] - [22] - [23] - [24] - [25] - [26] - [27] - [28] - [29] - [30] -? MASTERLIST

Summary: With no memory of who you  were, you wake up in the woods, only to be found by eight unusually handsome men. With no information of the past, the guys decide to take you in and take care of you for the time being. But that time becomes  years, and as time passes, you start to notice that there is something  different about them... and something different about you...

Warnings: angst, praise, thigh riding, kissing, fingering, overstimulation, lovebites, bad/miscommunication, low self-esteem, swearing, name-calling, dry humping, college, degradation, gods, special powers, vaginal sex, oral sex (f&m), mentions of contraception (condoms&thepill), injuries, mentions of death (but no character deaths), virgin!reader, teasing, orgasms, poly relationship, semi-public sex, daddy kink, strength kink. I've probably forgotten some so let me know if I did and I will add more as the story progresses.

Taglist: @eastleighsblog @tangerminie​ @speedybagelmongerpasta​ @swittyregan​

Special thanks to my beta and cheerleader Millie.

For the remainder of the hike, the boys stayed close to you as if they feared someone else would come and try to steal you away again. However, they didn't mention it again, nor asked any more questions, and their overall behaviour went back to normal.

By the time you arrived back at the hotel, it was already starting to get dark outside. Everyone went back to their own rooms quickly to take a shower and change before dinner time.

Instead of having dinner at the usual dining hall, Felix had made a reservation to have dinner in the restaurant part of the hotel. This area contained a beautiful balcony which would give an incredible view of the fields, buildings, and beach below.

As usual, you were the first one to arrive. Although now almost dark outside, it was still warm, and you walked up to the balcony to admire the beautiful view. Barely having set foot outside, you were suddenly plagued by that prickly feeling again, right below your hairline. You walked slightly slower, spotting two people leaning on the railing of the balcony, their backs turned to you. One of them was a man wearing a short-sleeved shirt, exposing an arm full of tattoos. You remembered him from earlier, having seen him with Jimin's group, but not remembering his name.

You looked at the person beside you and stopped dead in your tracks. There was a woman standing beside him. She was about the same height as you were, with long dark red hair that fell to her hips. It wasn't her appearance that made you stop.

As if she knew, the woman turned her head to look over her shoulder and spotted you. She smiled broadly at you, and you could only stare. She said something to the man she was with, he simply nodded, and she turned away from him, walking over to you.

'Come,' she said, friendly and softly to you, nodding her head to the other side of the balcony. Still not saying anything, you walked with her to the far-right corner of the balcony. Casually the woman leaned back on the railing, her kind, dark chocolate eyes on you as she smiled.

You blinked a few times as she seemed to be waiting for something. Then you realised she was waiting for you.

'You're...' you began, your voice almost a croak. You cleaned your throat and tried again. 'You're... You're like me,' you whispered.

The woman nodded with a smile.

'How- I mean- What- I mean- why- I- I' you stammered, as millions of questions flooded your head simultaneously. The woman chuckled.

'How many years?' the woman asked, friendly. Although it was a vague question, you instantly understood what she meant.

'Three and a half, four almost,' you spoke breathlessly. You simply felt in awe of her presence. The woman raised her eyebrows, impressed.

'Impressive. You're very advanced for your age,' she said, smiling.

'I- I am?' you said, feeling yourself blush. The woman nodded calmly, but your insides felt like a storm raging within.

'But... what am I?' you managed to get out, feeling desperate for answers.

'First things first, let us not forget our Human manners,' the woman laughed and stuck her hand out. 'I'm Lady; nice to meet you,' she spoke.

'I'm y/n,' you said hastily, bowing slightly as you took her hand with both of yours.

'Well, y/n,' the woman began, letting go of your hand, 'I can see you have many questions, so ask away,'

'What am I?' you asked instantly, the question burning inside you. Lady smiled again and thought for a moment.

'Have you found your group yet?' she asked in return. You nodded eagerly. 'And what did you find?' You frowned for a moment, thinking about her question.

'That... That I'm not like them, but I kinda am?' you said, frowning. Lady nodded.

'And what do you remember?' she asked. Flashes of your dreams appeared in front of your eyes.

'I... It's kinda hard to explain...' you said hesitantly.

'Try it,' Lady encouraged you.

'I remember... Watching them... Their lights... I had to wait for some reason,' you said, thinking hard. Lady nodded as you talked. 'I... I remember.. really wanting to be with them... they... they needed help?' you decided, looking at her questioningly, hoping any of it would make sense to her.

'Very good, really impressive,' she said, 'you really are advanced for your age.' She paused for a moment. 'Well, you already kind of have the answer,' she said. You raised your eyebrows.

'How long have you been with them?' she asked.

'They found me the moment I arrived,' you answered instantly. Lady whistles between her teeth.

'Lucky you, it took me ages to find mine. Anyway, that means you have about three-four years with them, right?' she said. You nodded quickly. 'And what has happened since then?'

You shrugged, not being able to think of anything.

'Come on; you must've seen something happen. Maybe something in their relationship with Humans, or each other, or themselves?' Lady suggested. The memory of Minho making his cap float mid-air suddenly popped into your mind.

'Well, some of them got new powers,' you said, unsure if it was the answer he was looking for. Lady raised her eyebrows at you, stunned.

'Oh my, already?' she said, impressed.

'Is that bad?' you asked, feeling nervous now.

'No, no, not at all,' Lady said swiftly, laughing. 'It's good, great even.' Her words made your chest swell slightly with a sense of pride.

'But you still have no idea what you are?' she asked curiously. You shook your head. 'Well then, it's hard to say specifically what we are. I mean, we aren't gods like they are, but we are god-like, so most just call us Goddesses. Others call us guardians or leaders, and I've even heard someone use the word "managers" for our kind, but I feel that doesn't really grasp the depth of our role.' Lady said decisively. 'But for the sake of definition, I will simply call us Goddesses, as it's easiest,'

You nodded quickly, hanging on to her words for dear life.

'So, Goddesses are, as far as I know, always female, hence the name, as are Gods, once again, as far as I know, always male. Goddesses come in all kinds of forms. I have met some that came in the form of mothers, sisters, lovers, friends, and even daughters. Not to say that they were actually blood-related, that is, but it describes the role they played in the life of their Gods,' Lady explained.

'Which one are you?' you asked curiously, already knowing very well in which category you would fall. Lady smiled mysteriously.

'The role a Goddess plays depends on who she is as a person, and it is essential to the bond she has with her Gods,' Lady continued. She hadn't answered your question, and you realised that asking might have been a little too personal, so you quickly changed your attitude.

'So, our role depends on the group we're with?' you asked quickly.

'No,' Lady said, shaking her head. 'Your role is something you have in you. It is something you yourself have decided long before you pick your group.'

'We pick our group?' you repeated her words.

'We do,' Lady said with a smile. 'It's a common misconception that they pick us or that we are assigned to them, but that's not at all the case. When we're still in our original state of being, we will form our own personality. Then we will pick our group. This is unlike the Gods, who don't form personality until they go to earth,' she explained.

'Do they pick their own groups?' you asked curiously.

'To be honest, I'm not sure. They might? But I also sometimes feel like it's more like fate? I find it hard to say,' Lady admitted thoughtfully.

'But we for sure pick our own personality and based on that, we pick a group?' you repeated.

'Exactly,' Lady nodded. 'Sometimes the group is already complete, but sometimes you simply pick one, and the rest joins after. That is not to say that they are less than the one you picked initially, not at all. They simply joined later, but you love them just as much,' Lady said. You couldn't help but think of the brightest light, your favourite, even though you loved the others just as much.

'Why do we pick a group?' you asked. Lady chuckled.

'Cause they're men, and they're hopeless without us,' she said with a chuckle. You couldn't help but laugh too. 'No, but seriously, we pick a group because we want to be with them as much as they need us.'

'What do they need us for then?' you asked.

'Hmm, lots of things. Depending on the group and the Goddess, I guess,' Lady said, frowning for a moment. 'The thing is, as soon as Gods step on earth and get their shell, there's always something that goes wrong. Sometimes they lose track of themselves or their godly duties. Sometimes they have a hard time building their own personality or a hard time getting along with each other. There are often all kinds of things they need help with, some bigger or smaller than others,' Lady explained.

'And how are we supposed to help them?' you asked anxiously. Lady smiled at you.

'Well, that's the wonderful thing about being a Goddess; we often don't even have to really try. Our mere presence is sometimes already enough to help them out. And if it's not, our instinct always helps us out, and we always know what to do our way in those kinds of situations. Unlike Gods, who can be fumbling about their powers for their entire lives,' Lady chuckled.

'And... the roles... I mean...' you weren't quite sure how to ask her the question you wanted to ask, but luckily, she seemed to understand.

'The roles we decide on before we pick will fit our group. Otherwise, we wouldn't have picked that group. They will fill in that need of your role, whether that might be of a friend, kin, or lover... It's nothing to be ashamed of, nor should you deny it, as it is who you are. Besides, whatever your role is, they are always happy to help you fulfil it,' Lady assured you.

'Is there always one Goddess in a group?' you asked, trying to switch to another subject.

'As far as I know, yes, but don't hold it against me if you ever find a group with more than one,' Lady answered.

'And how many members are there in a group? Is it always eight?' you asked. Lady shook her head.

'No, mine has seven. And I've met groups who have more. I think I once met one that had thirteen. I almost felt bad for that Goddess... But I've also met groups of three Gods, so I guess it can vary. Not sure if there are groups of two or singles, though,' she said thoughtfully.

'And do they all have a Goddess?' You asked.

'Once again, as far as I've met them, yes, they do, but don't hold it against me if you one day find this to be untrue,' Lady said.

'And what about them unlocking new powers?' you asked eagerly, remembering her mentioning it.

'Right, yeah, they often do. Normally it can take decades, especially if they have lived without a Goddess for a long time,' Lady said.

'What triggers it?' you asked eagerly. Lady smiled mysteriously.

'Well, that is for you to find out, isn't it? It's not always the same for every group or every God. But remember, it's always your guidance that has led them to their new insight,' Lady expressed. For some reason, it made you blush slightly.

'And do we Goddesses get special powers like they do?' you asked hopefully. Lady laughed.

'Don't you think leading a group of men is already enough work? I think that's pretty powerful in and of itself, don't you?' Lady chuckled. 'No, we don't need flashy tricks like they do. We simply use our brains and intuition to guide them, which is all we need.' Lady stated. You did feel slightly disappointed by her answer, and maybe your sentiment was visible on your face because she added:

'We do have some advantages over Gods, however. For instance, did any of your gods recognise mine?'

You slowly shook your head. 'But I did,' you said thoughtfully.

'Exactly,' Lady said, smirking. She looked over her shoulder for a moment at the tattooed God, who was still lounging against the railing on the other side of the balcony.

'When you discovered their powers, how did it go?' Lady asked, looking back at you. You frowned as you thought back at it.

'I...  I had gotten some hints...' you began slowly.

'But...?' Lady encouraged.  

'But...I guess I kinda...  just knew?' you said.

'Precisely,' Lady nodded.

'Well, except for one,' you said, remembering how at first, you hadn't been able to identify Chan.

'Well, you're young, and we all got our blind spot,' Lady shrugged nonchalantly. She looked over her shoulder for a moment again before looking back at you once more. 'Look at him,' she said.  

You did as she asked.

'Now, tell me what he is,' Lady spoke.

'A God definitely,' you said, not having to think about it.

'Yes and?' he encouraged. You took a moment to take the man in.

'Chaos,' you said suddenly, the word out of your mouth before really realising it.

'Well done,' Lady said, impressed. 'See, we can sense Gods, although they cannot sense each other if they're not in their own group. We can also sense their abilities, which comes in handy now and then,'

You weren't quite sure when it would come in handy, but you didn't say anything. You were just about to ask a follow up-question when Lady suddenly looked over your shoulder.

'Yours, I suppose?' she asked, looking somewhere behind you. You turned around and saw Chan walking over to you.

'Yes,' you said with a smile.

'Nice catch,' she said giggly.

'Yours aren't so bad on the eyes either,' you said with a chuckle, looking back at Lady. She smirked with a wink.

'Are you gonna have dinner here too?' Lady asked, suddenly changing the subject.

'Oh, erm, yes, that was the plan,' you spoke.

'What would you think about joining tables together? So, we can hang out for a bit; maybe your boys can chat with mine,' she suggested.

'Ohh, erm...'  you began apprehensively. Although you loved the idea of hanging out with her more and asking her many more questions, you weren't sure if bringing the Gods together would be such a great idea, especially after their last meeting. 'Well, I don't know... My boys are... They can be very territorial,' you decided. Lady laughed.

'It's normal for Gods to be very protective over their Goddess, especially towards humans,' Lady said. 'But as far as I've seen, as soon as they figure out that the other group has their own Goddess, it's not as big of a deal anymore.'

You weren't entirely convinced yet, however, and looked over your shoulder. By now, Changbin, Minho and Felix had arrived, as well as three members of the other group, which you remembered to be Seokjin, Namjoon, and Hoseok. The other group had gone over to the tattooed God, and you boys stood a little away from you and Lady, observing the two of you curiously while at the same time throwing the other group suspicious looks.

'I don't know,' you said tentatively.

'Darling, you must remember that they are your Gods. If you're nervous about it, they are as well. If you are relaxed and calm, so will they. They are influenced by your behaviour and feelings. I hate to make the comparison as it feels quite degrading, but they're a bit like puppies, although they don't even realise it themselves. Whatever you feel, they can feel. They are tuned into your being and will behave as such,' Lady explained.

You had to do your best not to chuckle at her comparison, especially thinking of Seungmin when she mentioned the word "puppy".

'Alright then,' you said, straightening your back and broadening your shoulders. Lady laughed.

'That's the spirit,' she said encouragingly. 'Now, I suggest you take the lead in this. I will go back to my group and wait for your instructions,' she said with a wink. You nodded, and Lady turned around and walked back to her group.

You turned and walked over to the four boys that were already waiting for you.

'You're quite popular these days,' Minho said, slightly prickly. You ignored his comment and simply smiled at them.

'Where's the rest?' You asked simply.

'Seungmin said he was coming down, and I expect Innie and Han any second. Dunno about Hyunjin,' Chan said, shrugging. 'Oh look,' he spoke, looking at the door.

Seungmin and Han entered the room with Jimin, and the sleepy kitten-looking one that you remembered was Yoongi, followed by another guy whose name you didn't quite remember.

'Who are we missing?' Han said, ignoring the other group.

'Innie and Hyunjin,' you answered.

'I think I saw Jeongin coming out of his room, but we just missed him. Oh, here he comes now,' Han spoke as Jeongin walked over. 'I guess that just leaves Hyunjin.'

You took a quick glance over at the other group, where Lady was calmly conversing with her members. They didn't seem stressed or awkward, and there were no sideways glances that indicated she was speaking about you or your group.

You wanted to wait for Hyunjin, but knowing him, it wouldn't be the first time that he'd skip dinner because he had fallen asleep while scrolling on his phone on his bed. For a moment, you considered calling him but then decided not to. It was never a great idea to wake Hyunjin up from a nap.

'So erm,' you began and then suddenly realised you had no idea where to start or how to explain. All the boys looked at you, and you were suddenly reminded again of the puppy comparison Lady had made. You cleared your throat so as not to laugh. 'So, I met someone,' you started over. Instantly you regretted your choice of words as the boys seemed to be on instant high alert. 'I mean, I just met this woman, and she's...' you thought for a moment. 'Well, I guess she's like me. As in, she's the same,' you tried to explain.

Seungmin arched a brow, and you could almost see the question marks in Jeongin's eyes.

'Well, I'm a Goddess,' you decided. 'And so is she,'

'You're a Goddess?' Han said, surprised.

'Wow, y/n, that's great news,' Felix said, grinning from ear to ear, his pointed teeth clearly visible.

'How do you know? I mean, are you sure?' Seungmin asked practically.

'Yes, I'm sure,' you said definitively. 'I recognised her as a Goddess, and so she recognised me as one,' you elaborated. Minho's mouth was slightly open as he looked from you to Lady. 'actually, you see those guys she's with? The guys we met during our hike, yeah? They're Gods too,' you said.

'No, we would know,' Changbin said, shaking his head.

'No, you wouldn't,' you said, shaking yours. 'I believe she said that you can only recognise Gods if they're from your own group; otherwise, Gods can't. We Goddesses, however, can,' you said, feeling slightly proud and cool at the thought of being able to do something they couldn't.

'No, surely-' Chan began, looking over his shoulder with serious doubts on his face.

'You think just because you can't, I can't either?' you said, feeling slightly sassy.

'No, that's not; I mean, I just-' Chan shrugged, looking slightly confused.

'They're gods,' you repeated. 'And they have their own Goddess. Like you have me,' you said, putting emphasis on the words and pausing, hoping it would give them time to let it sink in and understand what you meant. They all looked slightly frowning from you to the group and back again.

'They invited us to join them for dinner,' you continued when they still didn't say anything. 'And I would love to get to know them better. I think there is much we can learn from them, maybe share experiences,' you proposed.

Suddenly all the boys looked slightly nervous. Their attention went to Chan, who also seemed to have no clue whether the meeting would be a good idea or not. You smiled at Chan and tried your best not to let the excitement of the idea overtake you in case he would misinterpret your anxiety and decline the invitation.

Looking at you, you could see Chan hesitate for a moment before he spoke.

'Sure,' he said, his facial expression changing into a more relaxed one and his previously somewhat tense shoulders now lowering a little. Instantly the rest of the group seemed more at ease as well, and they all nodded and murmured their consent.

'Great!' you said enthusiastically. 'I will go tell them,' you said as you almost skipped away towards the other group.

[diaperdino77]

If you want, answer or try to answer to the following questions, please.

1) Is there anyone who knows that you wear/ like/buy diapers?

2) Has anyone accidentally ever seen you wearing diapers (with nothing else covering them) in a locker rooom, in a public toilet, airport check-in, during a medical visit or anywhere else? If yes, how did he react to this?

3) Has anyone accidentally ever been able to notice you wearing your diapers under your clothes? If yes, what has the reaction been?

4) What are your favourite diapers?

5) Ever worn diapers 24/7?

6) Do you like straitjackets, gags, and adult diapers together?

7) Have you ever been seen while buying adult diapers in a shop? If yes what has been the reaction? Furthermore, how has the cashier reacted?

8) Have you ever bought diapers using internet?

9) Has there ever been anyone who has joked about you wearing diapers? Has there ever been anyone who has made fun of you because you wear diapers?

10) Have you ever been humiliated for you wearing/liking/buying diapers?

11) Have you ever tried reusable/cloth adult diapers? If yes, how are they?

12) When did you wear your first adult diaper? What did you feel?

13) How has being ABDL influenced your social and love relations?

14) How many diaper lovers/ABDL do you know, both online and where you live?

15)Are you more AB or DL?

16) Why do you like/love diapers?

17) Have you ever seen anyone wearing diapers, in a public space (with nothing else covering them)?

18) Have you ever been able to notice anyone wearing diapers under clothes?

19) Have you ever seen anyone while buying adult diapers in a shop?

20) Have you ever worn diapers at job?

1: yes, 3 people know I like diapers. My current girlfriend, my ex girlfriend, and my therapist lol. Couples sex therapist to be specific. Other than that, I have one ABDL friend, my baby bestie @daddysbaby4eva, who knows who I am. And then anyone that my ex may have told I guess lol.

2: no, I haven't worked up the courage to leave the home diapered yet

3: I did wear a pullup once under my clothes in college just to step outside of my dorm room to go to the drinking fountain. I could hear people nearby but I didn't actually see anyone so no one saw me. But it was exhilarating. I also have worn a full diaper under clothes just outside of my house to refill the the bird and squirrel food and a beautiful college girl walked by and looked at me. I don't know if she noticed any bulk or anything though, but I like to think she maybe did

4: My favorite diapers are TryAgains by PretendAgain. I made a post when I first tried them. They make me feel so baby and the color reminds me of pampers. I swear they even have a baby diaper smell like no other abdl diaper has before. My next favorites are Comfy Cubz, Little Kings, and Animooz!! I love cloth backed hehe.

5: I have not gone 24/7 but I do like to wear for a day or two straight when I am home alone and off for the weekend. Usually go through 3 or 4 nappies. I don't do #2 in diapers though so I kinda cheat there. Never tried and don't really think I want to. Just too icky.

6: I've never tried straightjackets, but I like ball gags and diapers sometimes. And I think posts with girls in straight jackets, diapers and gagged are hot :) Love to try it all someday

7: I now order my diapers in the mail but when I used to buy pull ups at stores such as goodnites it was always a rush. I mostly used self checkout and hid the diapers in lots of bags and under stuff but I always felt people were looking and thinking I wear diapers. One younger lady cashier gave me a wierd and almost grinning look once but didn't say anything.

8: lol yes all the time

9: no

10: no, but in a sexual setting or with a dominatrix/mommy I wouldn't mind trying ;)

11: No. It sounds kinda gross honestly. I'd maybe be down to trying it once but I'm not too eager rn. I've played around with a white bath towel before I had actual diapers and kinda wrapped it around me like a nappy but never used it or anything. Just playing around.

12: It was a few years ago when I moved out of my college dorm and into an apartment with some roommates. I don't remember specifically which one was my first but i bought a rearz sample pack. My girlfriend was willing to try it with me then and she actually diapered me while I lay on the bed. It was the best feeling ever when she brought the front down onto me to tape up. UUUGGGHHHH

13: ABDL hasn't influenced my social relations at all because I keep it private so none of my real life friends nor my family know I'm into it. But its greatly influenced my love life. My ex girlfriend took to it quite well and we had many great times playing and exploring abdl back in high school. Just with Goodnites. We both wore together, she was mommy sometimes or we were both baby but mainly we just both wore diapers and were just happy and played and were sexually active in them. My current girlfriend, however, was willing to try it and we had some great times together both in pull ups and abdl diapers, but she decided it ultimately made her uncomfortable and I now keep my abdl life separate from her. She is aware and even suggested I look online for abdl companionship, but she doesn't want anything to do with it. That being said, we do have a ddlg relationship that has aspects of abdl and littlespace for her and we are exploring and developing that.

14: I only know one abdl/diaper lover on a personal level and that's my baby bestie @daddysbaby4eva. There's a few others I've chatted with on fetlife or here on tumblr but the conversations always fizzled out. There's also one person I met on fetlife who lives 30 min from me that likes diapers and being little sometimes, but we also don't talk too often.

15: I would say I am primarily a diaper lover as I just LOVE diapers and wearing them as well as seeing them on people I'm attracted to. Huge turn on. That being said, I very much enjoy littlespace, sexually and also not, and I have been exploring that more in the last few years.

16: I have always loved diapers as long as I can remember. I never wanted to potty train and was in diapers until I was 4. I remember in kindergarten, someone wheeled in a cart of different supplies for some reason and there were diapers on the cart and I felt something in my gut and just craved and wanted them so badly but didn't know why or what it meant. Then as I found the internet and sex I googled "girls in diapers" one day and I've been obsessed ever since. Found the abdl community, found my fetish/kink, and been exploring ever since. I think I love diapers because they are taboo, they are comforting, they are cute and safe and cuddly, and they just bring me pure joy.

17: I have never seen someone wearing just diapers in a public space. I've only ever seen two adults in person wear diapers and they are my ex girlfriend and current girlfriend. I'd love to go to abdl conventions and stores at some point though, such as CapCon and Tykables. I also might try professional dominatrix such as Chicago Illusions.

18: I have not noticed anyone

19: I have not

20: I have not and would not as I keep my personal and professional lives separate from my kink life. But hey, nothing wrong with having a fantasy or two ;)

This was really fun to answer these questions. Please keep em coming!! Thankies!!!

[azsazz]

Midnight Muse (Part 21)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3,850

[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] [Masterlist]

_________________________________________

You haven’t spoken to Azriel since the morning you woke up in his bed alone.

Which, granted, has only been one day.  

You’d spent the rest of your Sunday confused, rerunning the previous night over and over and over again until your head hurt with it. You thought that you and Azriel had started anew, if the passionate sex you’d shared the night before was anything to go by. But when you woke, the sheets beside you hadn’t even been warm and the note he’d left you seemed scrawled in haste, like he’d barely had the courtesy to do so on his way out the door.

Something important came up, I’m sorry. I’ll explain later. Please don’t be mad, princess. I’m coming back to you. —Az

He’d left his number but you’d left the comfort of his bed, slipping back into your dress and collecting your things before doing the ultimate walk of shame next door. Really, it’s much worse than the last time you’d snuck out of his apartment. You’d been hungover then, caring mostly about not throwing up in the hall or waking Azriel, but by the silence of the apartment as you made your way out, there was no need for you to be quiet.

It left you only with the aching between your thighs and the mottled bruises painting your skin purple.

That night was better than a dream. You would’ve never thought that you and Azriel could work past the lingering feud you’d started the year with, and you hadn’t realized how draining your constant grudge had been. It turns out that getting over yourself and under him had been the best thing that could’ve happened for your relationship.

His touch burns your skin long after you’ve showered him off. You can still feel him between your legs, fingers dug into the meat of your thighs as he held you still for his taking. The feeling of his lips, his tongue brushing yours, everything that he’d done to you last night, clinging to your very being as if he’d tattooed himself across every inch of your skin.

Maybe you should’ve listened to his note. You could have easily stayed in his bed all day, with how comfortable it is, but as the minutes trickled by, the paranoia set in, eating at you until you’d had to flee.

Feyre hadn’t asked any questions when you slipped into her room after your shower. She’d welcomed you with open arms, a sad look in her eyes as if she knew exactly what happened. And maybe she did; maybe she heard you like you heard her, but you hadn’t cared, only snuggled up to your best friend's side as she put a movie on her laptop for the both of you to watch.

She knew you would tell her in good time.

It hadn’t stopped Azriel from blowing up your phone. He must’ve stolen your number from Rhsyand or Cassian, or perhaps he even told them what happened because message after message after message lit up your notifications, pleading for you to answer your phone like an incessant alarm.

Princess…it’s Az. Where did you go?

Do you want some waffles? There might still be some ice cream left before Cassian finishes it all, but with the spoon he’s found, it won’t last long.

Can I please explain? 

And finally: 

I can hear your phone buzzing through the wall. Please answer me.

You hadn’t replied to those, nor any of the ones that followed. You half expected him to come knocking at your door, but Feyre had noticed your poor mood and told Rhys that the two of you were having a girl’s day and not to bother either of you.

You could’ve both kissed and been upset with her for that.

You wanted that explanation from Azriel, but you also wanted him to fight for it. Let him come knocking, let him ask you in person to explain. Who finally gets the girl and leaves her to wake up alone? Especially after all of the things Azriel had admitted to you…

Monday morning is much the same. You’d successfully avoided seeing Azriel on your way to campus, and as much as you tried focusing on your drawing course, none of the shapes you were drawing turned into anything great.

You’d expected it to be bliss, to get your mind off of every little nitpicky thing you keep thinking about from that night. Feyre and Lucien’s presence helped some, but when the class quieted  down for a drawing exercise and you were left alone with your thoughts once again, they naturally drifted back to yesterday morning. Maybe you had misread Azriel’s intentions and he was only looking for a one night stand. You did make the first move, afterall. 

It was all a jumbled mess in your head that could only make sense if Azriel explained it. And now you’re once again thinking that you should have stayed…or at least texted him back.

“You okay, (Y/N)?” Lucien asks, startling you from your thoughts. The tip of your charcoal cracks against your drawing pad and you frown, staring at the black chalky marks on your fingers. You frown, shoving the immediate thought of Azriel from your head and tilt your head up to meet Lucien’s concerned gaze.

You offer him a forced smile. “Yeah, sorry, I was zoning out a bit. I’m fine.” You hadn’t realized that class ended and everyone is packing up their things. Feyre’s over by the drawers, stowing her pad in the one you share. Lucien doesn’t look like he believes you, but he stays silent while you hastily pack your supplies away, grimacing at the drawing you’d been working on. 

You don’t check your phone. You’d already woken up to multiple messages from Azriel this morning, asking to walk you to class and explain. Luckily, you hadn’t run into him on your way out the door, tearing down the staircase with a confused Feyre trying to keep up.

Lucien and Feyre are talking about where you should all head to lunch when the three of you leave the building. Alis had announced another assignment, and the premise already hangs heavy on your shoulders. The instructions were left loose enough that you have once again no idea what you’re going to draw for it. It’s infuriating, how everyone else just seems to know immediately what they’re wanting to create when it takes you weeks to figure it out, and then when you do, you’re changing your mind again and again, worried that nothing is good enough.

You run smack into Lucien’s back while you’re lost in your thoughts. Your friends are three steps out the door and your nose stings from where you’d hit it against your friend. Lucien hardly even seems to notice, his mouth set in a straight line and he and Feyre stare directly ahead. 

At Azriel, who’s leaning up against the railing. He looks so nervous it’s almost as if he doesn’t even go to this school; doesn’t walk into the same buildings or around the same campus. His thumb is tucked into the strap of his backpack slung over his shoulder, and the other is stuffed into the pocket of his leather jacket. His black hair is tousled but not from the wind, from the amount of times he’s nervously run his fingers through it.

You watch his golden eyes flick over Feyre and Lucien, darkening as they rove over your copper haired friend while you step out from behind him. He instantly finds your gaze and they soften, and then he’s pushing off from the railing and making his way towards you. Your face heats because this is the last place you thought Azriel would corner you. In public.

“Hey, Azriel,” Feyre greets, glancing over at you. You shake your head softly but keep your gaze pinned to Azriel who strides closer like he no longer has a care in the world. It’s a front and you know it.

Azriel nods politely, but he doesn’t break your stare. “(Y/N), can we talk for a minute?”

You feel Feyre’s confused blue eyes burning into your skin. The way that she slides her phone from her pocket like she’s trying not to make any sudden movements is not missed by you nor Azriel, but neither of you seem to care that she’s seconds away from messaging Rhys about this. You wonder if he knows, if Azriel had admitted anything to his roommates about you, about the night you shared together. 

Lucien is tense, shoulders coiled tight. He’s almost glaring at Azriel but it doesn’t faze the onyx haired boy in the least, like he’s a speck of dust on his shoulder. Nothing can deter Azriel, of this you know. Somehow, he’s just as stubborn as you are, and the soft look in his eyes, pleading with you, makes your stomach twist.

“Sure,” you find yourself agreeing. You turn to your friend so you don’t have to witness the relief on his face. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. And I’ll see you in Art History, Fey.”

“You better,” your best friend mutters, already tapping away at her phone. She drags Lucien by the sleeve because he doesn’t seem inclined to leave you alone with Azriel despite you agreeing to speak with him. Azriel looks like he’s going to bare his teeth at the boy. “Come on, Luc.”

You start down the stairs of the building, going the opposite direction from your friends. You can feel Lucein’s sun and moon eyes on you as you walk, but you don’t turn around to look. 

Azriel catches up to you in two great strides. You don’t know where you’re going, fine with waltzing around campus while you talk. You might need to text Feyre to bring you something to eat during class, because you’re getting hungry for lunch.

“I don’t like him,” Azriel mutters, and you can tell by the tight grip he has on the straps of his backpack.

“I don’t think you like anyone,” you respond, not unkindly, but it’s not a friendly remark either. It’s strange almost, to be seen with him in public not only after your public feud, but the night you’d spent together as well. It feels like a dirty little secret has come to light, and you don’t like it.

Azriel glances at you sidelong, but you refuse to meet his gaze. “I like you.”

You snort because he doesn’t even know you, not really. “You didn’t even like me two days ago, Azriel,” you start but he’s already shaking his head in disagreement, denying your accusations. “And with the way you up and left me in your room, I’m thinking there’s still a possibility that you don’t even like me now.”

He stops you with a gentle hand on your elbow, turning you to face him. You stumble at the suddenness of the move and it puts you a step closer to him than you’d like. His grip on your arm isn’t firm or demanding, it’s a soft caress that matches the pleading look in his honeyed eyes.

“Please,” he murmurs, and you can see just how much your avoidance has been bothering him. His fingers tremble along your arms and when you look down at them he pulls away, nervously tucking them into the pocket of his hoodie. It makes something in your chest crack a little. “I can explain.”

“Explain, then,” you answer simply.

Azriel shifts on his feet, glancing around. There are students milling about and you should probably keep walking or at least move out of the way, lest the both of you get mowed down by someone late to class or a biker. “Here?” 

You quirk a brow.

He sighs a little, exasperated. “Can I take you somewhere? How about lunch?” 

You study him. It’s clear that he wants to explain to you, and he looks just as stressed out about the situation as you are. And you really do want to hear what he has to say for himself, if his reason for leaving you is forgivable…

“Fine,” you relent, and his shoulders drop a notch. “But I have class this afternoon and I can’t be late.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Rita’s is the kind of place that you walk past and don’t go in. 

The outside is a smidge better than decrepit, with its peeling paint and uneven sidewalk. There’s graffiti on the side of the building, tags you can hardly ready with how curvy and obnoxious the letters look. One of the windows has a shade, but it’s hanging by a thread and looks more like a hazard than not, and the rest of the windows are bare, sunlight pouring into the yellowing casement. You wouldn’t even know the place is open with its rusted neon sign so broken and sad. 

But Azriel guides you in through the door with a hand on the small of your back and you blame the shiver that travels up your spine on the blast of cold air that hits you in the face when you step over the threshold.

Maybe you’ve been a little harsh on its exterior appearance because the inside is tidy. The air smells like greasy burgers and crunchy fries, and there’s a shiny jukebox in the corner playing an oldies song you think you’ve heard at one of Cassian’s parties once. Well, you heard it through the wall when the entirety of said party belted it at the top of their lungs and not even your headphones could block out the noise.

There’s an older man sitting at the counter and a girl who looks to be about your age behind the counter. She’s smacking her gum and doodling on her order pad, a half abandoned milkshake melting in the red cup beside her. She doesn’t even look up when Azriel leads you towards a booth, and you slide in opposite him with furrowed brows.

“What’s wrong?” He asks you, nervousness flicking through his eyes. He hesitates to sit down, awaiting your response.

“Nothing,” you assure him with a soft smile you don’t feel is genuine. “I didn’t even know this place was here, really.”

Azriel all but slumps onto the electric blue seat, eyes sparkling with delight. Your heart rate picks up at the sight of the little grin he offers you. It’s nice to see this side of him, happy and relaxed, in his element. 

You wonder how he looks when he’s concentrated on a drawing, or a tattoo.

He’s got them covered up with his leather jacket today, though the tips of those coiling shadows around his collar bones peek out from the neckline of his black t-shirt and you think about how much you were coiled around each other the other night, skin to skin.

Your cheeks heat with the memory, and you look down at your lap.

“It’s great,” Azriel explains, slipping out of his jacket. You wish you had paid more attention to the artwork marking his skin the night you spent together but there hadn’t been much time to with the way you were all over each other, and he wasn’t around when you woke up. “Been coming here since freshman year.” 

You’re about to respond when the waitress you’d seen arrives, slapping two menu’s down on the funky patterned table. You startle with the motion and shift uncomfortably when Azriel all but glares at the girl. She doesn’t seem to care though, flipping her stark white hair over her shoulder with a sneer.

Her brown eyes flit over you like you’re a piece of her chewed gum stuck under the table, then leans her hip against the edge of the table, flipping her order pad open. “I already know what you want,” he says haughtily to Azriel, and then those piercing brown eyes are on you, pinning you to your seat like it’s a trap from Saw. “What will you be having?” 

“I, um, I’m not sure yet,” you stutter awkwardly, because you’re confused. Who is this and why is Azriel acting like this is normal? “I need to look at the menu.” 

She rolls her eyes and the silence that ensues makes your face grow hot, sweat bead at your hairline. She crosses her arms over her chest, popping a bubble with her gum, and it’s as if she’s waiting for you to look at the menu and decide right now. You send a pleading look to Azriel whose jaw is ticking with annoyance.

“Give us a minute, will you, Cresseida? And let Rita know I’m here. Thanks.” 

With another eye roll and an annoyed “Whatever,” Cresseida all but stomps away from your table. Your eyes trail her until she’s around the counter and pushing through the swinging doors to the kitchen.

“She seems…lovely,” you mutter, fingering the corner of the menu where it’s bent. “Seems like the kind of place you would’ve taken me when we didn’t like each other,” you tack on, squinting at the small font. Why are there so many items on the menu?

“I’m sorry about her,” Azriel blurts, and you think this is the first time you’ve ever seen him blush. It’s unfairly adorable. He offers you a hand, face up, and you can’t resist that look in his eyes, how he’s offering you his scarred hand instead of hiding it. With a short huff, you place your palm on his and he immediately intertwines your fingers, holding tight. It makes you blush. “She’s always been cranky,” he peers over his shoulder like she might be standing right behind him. “I promise, Rita is much nicer.”

You give him a forced smile because honestly, you’re not sure what else to say to that. You’re not even sure you’re all that hungry anymore, with Cresseida’s off putting attitude and the nerves that are gnawing on your stomach from the talk you’re about to have with Azriel.

You busy yourself with looking at the menu. There are way too many options and not enough time to decide because a short, stocky woman is trapezing her way around the countertop and towards your table, her eyes glowing with joy.

“Azriel, what brings you back so soon? Oh—and who is this lovely lady?” Her eyes fall across your intertwined fingers and she fails to stifle the beaming grin that appears on her red lips. You can tell that she’s a gem by appearance alone, but also in the way that she looks at Azriel, like he’s the son she’s never had. You can’t help but to smile at her. Her round face is flush with a permanent blush and she looks like the kind of woman you’d love to hug.

“Rita, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Rita, the owner of Rita’s Diner.”

“Very nice to meet you,” you greet eagerly, trying to pull your hand away from Azriel’s to shake her hand. He doesn’t let go, and smirks at the glare you shoot his way.

“(Y/N) as in…” Rita trails off, flicking a glance at Azriel. You narrow your eyes at him, curious as to what he’s told her about you. She continues, “As in your girlfriend, Azriel?”

You almost splutter, cheeks going red hot at her insinuation.

Azriel doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, admiring the color to your cheeks and the shock in your eyes. “Not yet.”

Not yet. 

But maybe soon, when he finally explains himself.

Rita winks at him and you really want to bury your face in the menu right now.

“What can I get for you, darlin’?” Rita asks, her voice sweet as cherry pie.

“I don’t know, there are so many options…” you trail off, sending a pleading look towards Azriel. “Almost too many to choose from.”

Rita’s chest swells with pride and Azriel snickers.

“Cass prefers the pancakes,” he supplies, “But I think the waffles are better.”

“Pancakes, it is,” you beam, handing Rita back the menu. Azriel glares playfully and Rita seems positively overjoyed as she makes her way back to the kitchen.

Your smiles fade with Rita’s cheerful attitude and it’s all too soon that you’re aware you’re holding Azriel’s hand and he still hasn’t explained. You look at him and he’s already sighing. There are dark circles under his eyes that you hadn’t noticed before, and you can tell that he hadn’t slept well last night either.

Azriel strokes a thumb across your knuckles and your tense shoulders ease a bit. The embarrassment you’d felt when you woken up alone in his bed has simmered with his eagerness to explain to you what happened that morning, but you’re still feeling a bit tender about it, especially when you see the pained look on Azriel’s face.

Whatever had happened hadn’t been good.

And you feel like a fool when he answers your question lingering between the both of you. 

“The reason I wasn’t there that morning was because my father was in town. He came to see me.” 

You try to swallow back the sudden rage boiling up from your stomach. The man who’d let his step-sons burn Azriel’s hands. The one who doesn’t want him to follow his dreams, his passions, when he clearly has the skill to do something amazing with them. The one who didn’t even visit him that night of the incident.

You squeeze his hand and Azriel seems to relax, understanding your forgiveness. Your throat is still tight when you respond, forcing the word out. “Okay…”

It gives him room to continue, even though Azriel looks like he’d rather face Cresseida’s wrath again.

“He found interest in purchasing and renovating our apartment building.” 

You blink, not sure you’ve heard him correctly. “What?” You tack on, defensively. “Why?”

Azriel shrugs. To keep me in fucking check. He sighs as if the tremendous weight on his shoulders is two seconds away from crushing him completely. You don’t like that frown on his face and you don’t like his father.

“He thinks it’s a good investment opportunity, I guess.”

You don’t like the sound of this one bit, and Azriel agrees with you.

“And if he does buy it?”

Azriel shakes his head sadly, “No more neighbors.” 

You didn’t think the thought of not being his next door neighbor would hit you so hard. Your chest aches with the idea of it, no longer sharing a wall. Even though you despised it at the beginning, you’ve gotten used to and even like the fact that you share a wall now.

Rita comes back and sets a plate of hot pancakes in front of you and a stack of blueberry waffles in front of Azriel. Everything smells delicious and your mouth waters at the sight of the thick pat of butter melting its way across the top of your breakfast.

She places a milkshake between you and Azriel, and there’s no missing the two neon colored straws sticking out of the top. You blush, thanking her.

She winks in response. “Enjoy, you two.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @blackthrongirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl

[pillow-anime-talk]

{♡} 4k followers special ; CLOSED!

Hello everyone! On the occasion of 4000 followers at my account, I decided to make a small special! This is a ‘Quote Prompts Special’ where the sentences will have an impact on the plots! Some of them will be SFW or suggestive and some will be NSFW! I hope you all will like my ideas just like before! I was doing something quite similar around the time I hit 1000 followers i.e. ‘Kissing Prompts’! For a next month (August) I will receive your requests and write them one by one :)

I. How to send a request?

Choose the number and one character you like (if the prompt looks like it has two or more characters then add more than one name). You can also give me your pronouns (if you don’t, I’ll write the story in neutral form!). Also! The examples below are just examples. You can write which ones you are interested in or leave me the right to choose. When it comes to NSFW prompts, you can tell me what you definitely don’t want to see!

for example: ‘10 + Poseidon from RoR + pregnant female reader’ or ‘ 33 with Sakura Haruno and reader with he/they prns’ or ‘Dio Brando and Joseph Joestar plus 53 but without cheating’

{!} Then send your request to my request/ask box.

II. Please be patient! I will write each request one by one.

{!!} Also, here are my Masterlist and MyAnimeList account to see what I would like to write! I am happy to write about characters who don’t have their lists yet, such as ‘Yakusoku no Neverland’, ‘Beastars’, ‘number24’, ‘Oshi no Ko’, ‘Kaguya-sama: Love is War’, ‘Blue Lock’, ‘Vanitas no Karte’ or anything else rated higher than 5 on my MAL.

sfw prompts;

for example – fluff, comedy, crack fic, school/college!au, kid!fic or family!fic and also pet!fic, isekai, turning into a child or animal, royalty, cute romance, friendship, idols or streamers or models!au (etc.), internet friends/lovers, flower/coffee shop!au, enemies/friends to lovers, love at the first sight, soulmates!au (colors, tattoos, red thread), song!fic, pranking someone, sharing a bed, staring at the stars, date!au, soft angst (like first quarrel, misunderstanding, wrong number), mention of crying, pregnancy/marriage, gender swap, [...]

1. “Let’s watch some movies from Studio Ghibli (or Disney, or Pixar)!”

2. “... Do you want to stay with me for the night?”

3. “Are we gonna fight? Like fist to fist or rather... lips to lips?”

4. “Shut up, I’m listening to Big Time Rush.”

5. “... but I love your sister/brother.”

6. “Haven’t we met before?”

7. “You’re so dumb!”

“No? You’re dumb.”

8. “Bring your ass over here. I wanna some cuddles (or kisses).”

9. “Why did you do that?”

10. “I’d kill for you.”

11. “I– I like both of you...”

12. “But we are not married.”

“Then marry me.”

13. “Look into my eyes and tell me that you’re not lying. Do it, I am waiting.”

14. “Need some help, shortie?”

15. “Wow, I didn’t know that you could play on the instrument.”

16. “I haven’t been feeling well for the past few days...”

17. “The princess/prince shouldn’t wait, you know?”

18. “I have some good news and some bad news too...”

19. “I’m pregnant.”

20. “Why are not you listening to me?

... I’m very lucky to have you, you know?”

suggestive prompts;

for example – romance, making out, soft smut (including first time, masturbation, oral sex, body worship, general vanilla, etc.), angst, single parent or orphan!au, supernatural things (like demons, vampires, werewolves, zombies, fairies, etc.), dysphoria & misgendering, -shaming in general, diseases (like ed, amnesia, hanahaki), lovers to friends/enemies, mention of blood/vomit/faint, miscarriage, fake relationship, tattoos and piercing, bruises and scars on body, domestic or relationship violence, alcohol consumption, sexual harassment, [...]

21. “You’re drunk.”

“... But you’re drunk too.”

22. “You’re so ugly.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

23. “This is my b-blood?”

23. “Goodbye.”

24. “I’m a monster! Can’t you see it?!”

25. “It’s just a prank! Stop, please!”

26. “It’s not that I hate you, but if you were on fire and I had a bottle of water, I would drink that stupid water.”

27. “You look beautiful. This color suits you so well.”

28. “Stop being a brat.”

29. “Please! Please, don’t leave me!”

30. “Stop talking such nonsense, it’s not true!”

31. “Don’t cry.”

32. “Its all my fault...”

33. “Let’s stay like this forever, please.”

34. “Don’t touch me!”

35. “Haha, look at them. What a freak!”

36. “Your partner won’t catch us... What are you afraid of?”

37. “I don’t think they love me anymore.”

38. “You love flowers, right?

Yes... I love flowers very much.”

39. “No! It hurts, stop, please!”

40. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

nsfw prompts;

for example – hard angst, death (including suicide, murder, accident), mental illness, hard smut (including normal sex, non-con/rape or dub-con, hurt-comfort; 69, size kink, voyeurism, breeding, food play, etc.), ons, bdsm, threesome or gang bang, sex pollen, public or semi-public sex, cheating, manipulation or grooming, age-gap, police!au and law court!au, general abuse, a/b/o, gore or horror, monsters, guns and illegal racing, drugs or alcohol abuse, other triggers, [...]

41. “Of course. I am yours. Only yours.”

42. “... You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

43. “It was an a-accident, I swear...”

44. “Do you have anything else to say, fuckdoll?”

45. “Should I fuck you? So beg for it.”

46. “I hate myself, you, this life and everything else!”

47. “Yes, I did it on purpose. Any problem?”

48. “They were such a good person. Too bad they died.”

49. “I told you this is how it ends.”

50. “S-Stop. Someone is looking at us.”

51. “Maybe in the next life we will be in love. Who knows?”

52. “I’m so scared. I don’t want to die.”

53. “Wanna join?”

54. “I’ll kill you next time.”

55. “You really think someone like me would love someone like you?”

56. “It was my sister/brother!”

57. “What the fuck are you two doing?!”

58. “Please, leave me alone. Stop... Stop...”

59. “I wonder why they did it.”

60. “See? Not everything is like in a fairy tale.”

navi | status | masterlist | rules | ko-fi

[causetheturtle]

Thoughts while rewatching season 3 of Riverdale:

1. K why did Alice’s farm style slay so hard? Like she looked so great

2. Love how Archie is literally in this prison FOR FUCKING MURDER and still nobody is scared of him - they saw this man in his nice little shoes his rich girlfriend gave him and were like “yeah this man is ducking useless”

3. VERONICA STOP BUYING YOUR BOYFRIEND NICE THINGS WHILE HE’S IN PRISON! He’s just gonna get this shit stolen your dad was in jail how do you not know how a prison works?

4. It’s so sad that the normies got hold of the “epic highs and lows of high school football” line because it really is such a perfect Archie line - this man is naive and kind hearted enough to believe a game of football is all that’s needed to fix the structurally broken prison system but if you haven’t watched the show and don’t know anything about Archie then it’s obviously gonna seem ridiculous

5. Riverdale relationship drama is so funny cause it’s like “Betty had a stress related seizure due her mother and sister joining a cult and didn’t tell Jughead” or “Veronica isn’t sure of the best way to help Archie through his time in prison”

6. Kevin asking Moose if he’s embarrassed by him of course he is Kevin have you met yourself? Your literally the worst

7. Organising a musical number and cheerleading routine for her boyfriend while he plays a game of football in prison is actually the most normal reaction Veronica Lodge has ever had to any situation ever

8. Realising I talk about Riverdale the same way all of the G&G players talk about G&G

9. Imagine being an adult in Riverdale and hearing that a new bar opened up under Pop’s and going for a night out to check it out but you get there and it’s just a load of teenagers doing musical numbers and drinking mocktails

10. Why is FP’s immediate reaction to any situation ever to just grab his son’s face and yell at him? Begging for this man to have a normal non-abusive reaction to something just one time

11. Will never stop thinking about the Midnight Club. It was the first episode of Riverdale I really watched and it’s still one of my favourites. Like the way all of the parents tried so hard and came so close to breaking their moulds and forging their own paths but they never did and just fell into exactly what the world and the people around them wanted to be AND how their kids are all in the same situation now? The narrative, the cycles, the generational trauma! This episode has everything

12. Knowing now that Sheriff Keller actually WAS into guys the whole time and it was just that he didn’t want to be with Moose’s dad makes the whole situation so much funnier

13. The idea that they were all booking out the bunker for certain nights a week is so funny - like did they have physical a schedule? Who kept the schedule? Did it just sit in like the offices of the Blue and Gold?

14. I fucking love Archie and Josie together and have fully convinced myself that Josie is somehow California Women

15. It needs to be studied what exactly the Heathers episode did to my brain because that one episode of TV completely rewired my brain chemistry and changed the trajectory of my life

16. It’s so sad that the happiest Polly ever got to be was when she was part of a cult. It’s also sad how much everyone’s farm fashion went off cause they all looked so good during that era

17. It’s actually a miracle it took so long for Fangs to actually die there were so many attempts on his life

18. God Veronica running multiple businesses at age 16 and none of the Riverdale adults batting an eye and just respecting her as a business women will never not be funny to me

19. The plot twist that Alice was actually working undercover to take down the farm actually makes her being so awful to Betty make less sense. Sure, she was doing it for the greater good I guess but like she didn’t have to give away her college money or sell their fucking house leaving Betty with the options of homelessness or moving to a cult to get it done

20. FP maybe if you need to get your teenage son to regularly come and help you with your job as sheriff then you shouldn’t be doing it? Although on the other hand Jughead would’ve gone to those crime scenes anyway so like maybe it’s a good thing FP was there as adult supervision

21. GOD the cult break out and scavenger quest are such amazing finales for this season. Everyone nearly dies about ten times, Kevin and Fangs no longer have kidneys, the core four staggering through the woods in formal wear close to death together, Cheryl and Toni coming to save them all with the power of gangs and bows and arrows, it had literally everything you could want!

22. Love how Hal Cooper is canonically one of the worst serial killers ever and every woman he’s been with tells him this to his face

[skelletors]

MCYT as D&D Characters 6 - Scar

Well. The ending of Secret Life sure was something, huh?

Hello one and all and welcome to this very strange series where I turn various MCYTs into playable D&D characters! This was originally going to be someone else, but in light of recent events I decided, hey, I should dedicate this to the S-Tier player himself, GoodTimesWithScar.

A few ground rules for this thing:

This will not be balanced and the builds may not be very good. This isn’t for the minmaxers (not that there's anything wrong with that), this is purely based on either stories these people have participated in or their overall persona on the internet

These characters will go up to level 20, but in no way do you have to play them to the max level to get all the mechanics that make up the character

There will be little to no homebrew in these builds, just for my own ease of use.

I will be using standard array for all of these characters (15, 14, 13, 12, 10, 8) when determining the stats for these characters, also for my own ease of use.

Character Traits to Emulate

Conman extraordinaire

Jellie

Somehow always a wizard???

No thoughts head empty

Race, Class, Background and Stats

Race: Half-Elf (There were a couple options for Scar, but I decided on half-elf as a sort of compromise between his depictions as an elf and the fact that Scar has the most “just a guy” energy.

Ability Score Increase: +2 to Charisma, +1 to two other stats (We’ll go Dexterity and Constitution)

Darkvision: You can see in the dark! Not super important for the character, but pretty useful

Fey Ancestry: Advantage against being charmed and you can’t be put magically to sleep

Skill Versatility: You can have proficiency in any two skills. (It doesn’t matter what you pick, but I’ll chose Persuasion and Intimidation)

Background: Charlatan (In nearly every server Scar has appeared on, he has been a liar or a con man or a salesman. This is perfect for him!)

Proficiencies: Deception, Sleight of Hand, Disguise kit, Forgery kit

Class: Bard 20 (I debated on Ranger or Bard, but I decided on Bard because Scar is not wise. I’m sorry, he is the least perceptive, least insightful man I’ve ever seen. Obviously said with love.)

Stats:

Strength: 13

Dexterity: 12 + 1 = 13

Constitution: 14 + 1 = 15

Intelligence: 10

Wisdom: 8

Charisma: 15 + 2 = 17

An important note: Considering that Scar is a disabled content creator and has shown positivity towards his disability being incorporated into fanart, I find it very important to add that this build works in tandem with the Combat Wheelchair by Sara Thomson. While I don’t normally go into homebrew, mostly for my own sanity, this is a well-made piece of homebrew and as such, I feel it’s important to link here while making a D&D character based off of a wheelchair user. I won’t be touching on this further, as any upgrades that can be made to the wheelchair are based on how much money a party has, rather than level.

Level 1: Bard

Bardic Inspiration! You can inspire your allies and give them an extra die a number of times equal to your Charisma Modifier

Spellcasting! I’m not really going to focus on this, but at the end I’ll list some key spells for Scar. If I remember lmao

Level 2:

Bardic Inspiration! You can inspire your allies and give them an extra die a number of times equal to your Charisma Modifier

Spellcasting! I’m not really going to focus on this, but at the end I’ll list some key spells for Wilbur

Level 3:

Subclass time! Potentially the best time. Or at least a good time. Regardless of the quality of the time, one thing that is undeniable is that it’s time for Scar’s subclass. The subclass, of course, being…

College of Glamour! Coming straight at you from Xanathar’s Guide to Everything, College of Glamour bards focus on deceiving and trickery and are as flamboyant as the Feywild, where they often originate. Sounds very much like Scar, and in previous characters, Grian did also originate from the Feywild…

Mantle of Inspiration - As a bonus action, you can use one of your Bardic Inspiration die to give a number of creatures equal to your Charisma modifier within 60ft who can see you 5 temporary hit points. They can also use their reaction to move without taking opportunity attacks.

Enthralling Performance - If you are able to perform for at least one minute (singing, performing a poem, dancing, etc) you can select a number of creatures equal to your Charisma Modifier within 60ft of you who paid attention to your performance. They make a Wisdom saving throw, and on a failed throw they are charmed by you after an hour. The creature is not aware of being charmed or you attempting to charm them.

Expertise! You get double proficiency with skills you are already proficient in. We’ll go with Deception and Persuasion

Level 4: Bard

Ability Score Improvement. Let’s add a +2 to Charisma, for hopefully obvious reasons, bringing Scar’s Charisma score up to 19

Level 5: Bard

Bardic Inspiration Improvement. The die you use is now a d8

Font of Inspiration: You regain all expended Bardic Inspiration after a short rest

Level 6: Bard

Countercharm: You can play a tune to give any allies within 30ft advantage against charm effects

Mantle of Majesty - As a bonus action, you can cast Command without expelling a spell slot and take on the appearance of someone beautiful for one minute or until concentration on your spell ends. A creature charmed by you automatically fails it’s saving throw against the spell and once you use this feature, you can’t use it until you finish a long rest.

Level 7: Bard

Nothing happens here, just more spell slots

Level 8: Bard

Ability Score Increase! We’re taking a Feat now, we’re gonna go with Fey Touched. This gives you a +1 to your Charisma, Wisdom or Intelligence, we’re going with Charisma bringing you to 20. You also learn Misty Step and another 1st level enchantment or divination spell.

Level 9: Bard

Song of Rest buff! It’s now a d8

Level 10: Bard

Bardic Inspiration buff! It’s now a d10

Expertise: You can get expertise in two more skills! I’m not sure what would be fitting, maybe Arcana and Sleight of Hand

Magical Secrets: Hey. Hey you. Sad that Bard doesn’t have Counterspell naturally? Now you can have it! You can choose two spells from any spellcaster. These spells count towards your known spell and have to be within your spell level, but aside from that, the world is your oyster! You could also get Find Familiar and get your very own Jellie familiar!

Level 11: Bard

Again, nothing happens here other than more spell slots. But who’s complaining about more spell slots?

Level 12: Bard

ASI Time babyyyyyyyy. We’re gonna grab another feat, this time the Actor feat. This gives you a +1 to Charisma as well as giving you advantage whenever you’re pretending to be someone you’re not. Like maybe a certain pirate on a certain pirate server. Also, your Charisma is now 21. Amazing.

Level 13: Bard

Song of Rest is now a d10!

Level 14: Bard

Remember what I said about Magical Secrets above? Yeah, do that again.

Unbreakable Majesty - Your appearance permanently gains an otherworldly appearance, like that of the fey. Along with this, as a bonus action, whenever a creature tries to attack you for the first time on a turn, they must make a Charisma saving throw vs your spell save DC. On a failed save, they cannot attack you and must attack someone else. On a successful save, it can attack you but has disadvantage on any saving throw against your spell next turn. This lasts for a minute and you can only use it once per long or short rest.

Level 15: Bard

Bardic Inspiration buff! It’s now the big, beefy d12. Oooooo. Ahhhhhh.

Level 16: Bard

ASI Time baby! We’re taking yet another feat, and this time it’s the Lucky feat! It’s undeniable that Scar is a very lucky person, and this feat gives you three free rerolls every long rest, either a roll you make or an attack made against you. I’m pretty sure since death saving throws are saving throws, this effectively gives you free rerolls to not perma-die. Pretty useful, considering how prone to death Scar tends to be.

Level 17: Bard

Song of Rest is now a d12

Level 18: Bard

Magical Secrets. See above Magical Secrets.

Level 19: Bard

Here we are, the final ability score improvement. We’re taking one last feat, and that’s the Shadow Touched feat. You can add a +1 to Charisma, Intelligence or Wisdom, obviously we’re going for Charisma. You also learn invisibility and another 1st level illusion or necromancy spell, and there are some fun ones out there. Even at higher levels, upcasting 1st level spells can be powerful. This also bring’s Scar’s Charisma to a monstrous 22. That’s a base +5 to every Charisma check you make, not factoring in proficiencies and expertise.

Level 20: Bard

Superior Inspiration: Whenever you roll initiative and you have no more Bardic Inspiration die, you regain one use. I still think this is a lame capstone ability, but whatever. The rest of this has been insane, we can be a bit lame.

Key Spells:

Cantrips

Vicious Mockery

Friends

1st Level

Disguise Self

Silvery Barbs

Speak With Animals

Find Familiar

Charm Person

2nd Level

Crown of Madness

Gift of Gab

3rd Level

Counterspell

Hypnotic Pattern

4th Level

Charm Monster

5th Level

Seeming

Modify Memory

Dominate Person

6th Level

Mass Suggestion

7th Level

Project Image

Mordenkainen’s Magnificent Mansion

8th Level

Mind Blank

Dominate Monster

9th Level

Wish

And with that, we conclude yet another one of these! Feel free to request more CCs to D&D-ify, and I truly hope that you enjoyed this. I put quite a bit of thought into this, and I got to look into both a subclass and a gamestyle that I don’t normally go for.

[andorerso]

A YEAR IN FICS - 2022

time for one of my favorite New Year’s tradition: taking stock of all the fics I wrote this past year!

Operation Midnight Kiss: Jyn has a plan for New Year's Eve but an eager new recruit complicates things... (1/1)

i’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife: Holy shit. She fucked a hitman. Released from prison after three years, Jyn Erso is just trying to pick up the broken pieces of her life. But the man who catches her eye might not be exactly who he says he is. (1/1) Good Behavior AU. technically written in 2021 but I didn’t post it until later, so now I have to file this under 2022 which annoys me a bit because it skewed my word count for both 2021 and 2022.... but it is what it is

The Replacement Cass: Jyn has a new boyfriend which would be fine... if not for his name. (1/1)

touching the sun: After Jyn and Cassian escape Scarif, they're in limbo. Neither of them really know how to be close to each other. But when Jyn notices a strange bond developing between them that she can't explain, it forces them to acknowledge their true feelings... OR, the AU that's not quite soulmates, not quite not soulmates (2/2) Written for the Rebelcaptain Big Bang project, only second chapter was written in 2022.

Blood Red Rose: 1920, London. An unknown creature dubbed 'the Beast' is terrorizing the streets at night. Vampire hunter Jyn Erso and recently turned vampire Cassian Andor might just be the city's only hope to catch the monster... (22/26) chapters 18-22 written in 2022

home we’ll go: Cassian Andor only comes back to Ferrix for two things: to get Maarva and Bee, and to say goodbye to the people he cares about. Neither goes the way he expects it to. AU for episode 7: what if Jyn had grown up on Ferrix? (1/1)

Amas Veritas: Jyn's a young witch who's just trying to keep her head down. But when Orson Krennic returns to town years after he allegedly killed her father, she can't help feeling like this is her chance to get some payback. What's supposed to be a harmless hex quickly turns deadly, and Jyn must now make sure no one ever finds out what she did or risk going to prison. But the pull she feels towards Cassian Andor, the private investigator the Krennics have hired complicates matters, and it doesn't help that she's sworn off love years ago due to a nasty love curse that sits upon her family. On top of it all, Krennic's ghost might be haunting her... This Halloween is shaping up to be the worst one Jyn's ever had. (5/7) Practical Magic AU

fighting dragons with you: Jyn is injured during a dragon fight, and Cassian is not happy about it. (1/1) Written for the Rebelcaptain Trees exchange

a wolf at heart: She kinda wished she could take him home with her. Jyn, the wolf-tamer. How cool would that be? OR, Jyn's a college student with a crush but Cassian has some secrets (1/2) Written for the Rebelcaptain Secret Santa exchange

always, someday: Sleep… He wants to sleep so badly, but if he does, it means he’s failed. They promised him they’d let him rest if he just gave them the answers they wanted. But that’s not a price he can pay. He can’t betray the rebellion, he can’t give up their secrets, their names, their locations, their weaknesses, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t — He can’t say anything. And he can’t sleep. They won’t let him. (1/1)  Written for the Rogue One Crew exchange

Prompts, requests and drabbles:

I’ve made so many mistakes, but you’re not one of them

I need you to help me reach the top shelf

you’re worth any fight

can you give me a ride?

the lights don’t shine as bright when you’re not here

firefighters AU

single parent & teacher AU

Total works: 17 (15 new ones)

Total wordcount: 104 087

And I outdid myself again this year! I don’t think I’ll be able to replicate it again this year with my new job, but my writing goal for 2023 is to finally finish Blood Red Rose. wish me luck!