#made these over the years by the same tree

[forever-rogue]

you asked for fallout request, so here i am, eagerly writing this…

i’ve been craving a cooper howard x reader oneshot where him and the reader are navigating through life in their own way. maybe a run in with tricky people?? angst?? fluff??? it’s up to you best friend. THANK YOU!!!

AN | Alright, let’s goooo. First go around with Cooper and we had to go with some fluff because that is my specialty. I’ve loved Fallout for a long time and I love the show too❤️

Pairing | Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x fem!reader

Warnings | language; gun violence

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You weren't sure if you'd call yourselves friends.

More like…an unwitting duo of sorts. Unwitting on your end more than anything.

You'd promised him that you absolutely didn't need company or anyone to assist you. He'd insisted that the only way he'd let you go on your own was over his dead body. You'd contemplated that idea for a few moments. Given his reputation, you decided not to push him too much.

The realization that he was a stubborn old man who wasn't going to change his mind was the only reason he was still next to you. Begrudgingly, mind you.

“How much further, darlin’?” His deep voice cut through your internal monologue and you shot a glare in his direction, “I'm starting to think you're not the best judge of distance.”

“If you're just going to complain,” you pointed over your shoulder back to the last town you'd passed through, “you're more than welcome to go back and terrorize that town. I told you that I didn't need you to come with me.”

“And why would I listen to you, huh?” He rolled his eyes lightly as you scoffed, “you'd be dead before the sun went down, sweetheart.”

“So what?” You turned on your heel, walking backwards so you could face him, “why do you care?! You don't even like me!”

“Contrary to what you believe, I do have somewhat of a conscience,” his voice was gruff but somewhat soft, “and if I let you go and then heard that you were killed, I'd be a little annoyed.”

“Why?” 

“Because I’ve already saved your life once,” he so sweetly reminded you as you sighed heavily, “and I didn't just save your life so you could go and be killed by someone else.”

“Ain’t that sweet? You’re a modern day prince,” you mocked his twang as his expression refused to shift. It was almost annoying how unfazed he remained the majority of the time, “I had it handled. You happened to come at an inconvenient time.”

“If that's what helps you sleep at night,” he had to fight to hold back a laugh as you turned back around and you marched in front of him, making it a point not to look back at him. He had to be the most infuriating person you'd ever met. He'd had two hundreds years to perfect being annoying and he had done exceedingly well.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you had been traveling together for a number of days. You'd managed not to kill each other, luckily, but otherwise things had remained mostly the same. Silence, and if it wasn’t silence, it'd be harsh words and fast quips.

You didn't hate him - not really. You hated the idea that anyone, let alone a man, believed that you needed help. You'd had things handled and would have kept yourself safe. He'd just happened to come fight when you were in the midst of either killing or getting killed. 

He wasn't going to let that go anytime soon. That much you already knew about him.

“It’s cold,” you announced as the two of you made camp for the night. You pulled your jacket tighter around your frame but it was no use, “I’m cold. Can we make a fire?”

“That, princess, is one of the many reasons you need someone out there to keep an eye on you,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost have thought that he was being kind - nice. 

“Listen,” you sat down and leaned against one of the trees near the clearing you’d decided to call home for the evening, “I know it’s not exactly safe or the best idea, but I’d rather do that than freeze.”

“It ain’t even that cold,” he mused, stripping off his overcoat and tossing it over to you. You made a sound of surprise, but didn’t hesitate to put it on, “life really was different for you, wasn’t it? I’d say it was almost as easy as those vaulties had it.”

“It wasn’t…” you knew he wasn’t wrong. You’d come from a place of privilege, having been born into a family with wealth, new world wealth anyway, and had it pretty easy for a surface dweller. You’d lived in a large, well stocked and safe home with people around to do your bidding. Those were some of the perks of having a father that was some sort of merchant prince, “it wasn’t like that.”

“Yeah?” he rolled out his bedroll, a bitter laugh escaping him, “sounds like you had nothing to do and everything done for you.”

“I mean…” you trailed off, knowing it was futile to lie to him. He’d known your father after all; Cooper Howard was the one sent to fetch you and return you home once your father had found out you’d run away, “it was…good sometimes. There were a lot of bad times too. But I still know how to do things for myself. I could kill you with my bare hands if I wanted to. I’ve done it before.”

“Huh,” he grabbed a vial and downed it one go, his eyes never leaving your face, “guess that makes you a killer. Just. Like. Me.”

“I did what I had to do,” you swallowed thickly, blinking back tears that threatened to well up. Cooper knew that you had run away, but he didn’t know the full extent of what had happened to cause you to run away, “and we’re here.”

“Tell me what happened,” your eyes snapped to him as you tried to weigh his words in order to see if he was being serious or not. He’d never really taken an interest into your personal life, but you wondered if that was because he genuinely didn’t care or if he’d just created some sort of creed for himself that didn’t allow him to get close to anyone, “what made you run away from your sweet little life, darlin’?”

“Cooper,” you wiped your hands on your thighs and shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. You’d never really said his name before and that caught him off guard, “does it really matter?”

“It’s still buggin’ you, clearly,” he mirrored your position and crossed his arms over his chest, “and we ain’t got nothing but time.”

You inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling and looking at the sky. You could feel his attention still focused on you, “my father told me that there was a man I was going to marry. I told him no and he told me that I didn’t have a choice. Said man found me shortly before the wedding was supposed to happen and he…he tried to…”

You paused for a moment, wiping away the tears that had unwittingly rolled down your cheeks. Cooper’s gaze had darkened but he was still watching; the expression on his face looked like he was ready to commit murder.

“He didn’t get a chance to do anything,” you said softly, “I killed him before he could. But he managed to get me a little bit when he was trying to fight me off. That’s why I had a black eye and all the bruises.”

“Darlin’-”

“I didn’t hesitate, Coop,” your expression steeled as you looked him in the eyes, “and I won’t hesitate now. A man will never tell me what to do. And I don’t need anyone thinking I need someone to protect me.”

Cooper had been listening with rapt attention, his mind already thinking of the things he could do to your father.  Bringing you back to him definitely wasn’t one of those things. He’d made up his mind about that almost the moment he’d met you. You’d been sporting a black eye and cut lip, dried blood caked on your hands and arms. He was smart enough to put two and two together.

“For what it’s worth,” he looked back at you with the gentlest expression you’d seen on him, “I’m sorry for what you had to go through. Those are not men, those are monsters.”

“And you’re going to bring me right back to him,” it was a question presented as a statement. You weren’t entirely sure what his plan with you was; you’d been scared to ask. But he also wasn’t hadn’t mentioned a word of bringing you back to your father, “aren’t you?”

“I ain’t bringing you back,” he admitted and you couldn’t keep the surprise off your face, “I never was. I’ve been around a long time, little girl. I know what your father is. I figured it was a better option for me to find you than someone else.”

“You’re not?” you hated how small your voice sounded; how you almost sounded scared. In a way you were. Scared of going back to the place that you hated and would surely make sure you suffered, but you were also scared of forging a new path. You didn’t really know where you were going or what you were going to, “really?”

“On one condition,” of course. You waved your hand, motioning for him to go, “you admit that you have no clue where we’re going and we’ve basically been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”

You tried to look serious for a moment, but you couldn’t help but start to laugh at how well he could already read you. Cooper was so taken aback by the soft, sweet sound that he couldn’t help the smile that tugged up the corners of his mouth. When you managed to catch your breath, you looked at him and cocked your head to the side, “I have no clue where we’re going and we’ve been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”

“Honesty,” he pulled one of his knees toward his chest and drummed his fingers on it, “it’s refreshing. You’re gonna be alright, kid.”

“There’s a place,” you murmured after a few moments of silence, “that my mom told me about when I was little. She made it sound like this magical place. I guess really, that’s where I want to go.”

“I hate to break it to you,” Cooper said, “but magical places don’t really exist. They never really did.”

“I know,” you admitted softly, “it just seemed like that when I was young. She died a long time ago, but I’d always think about that place, going there someday.  She said it was west - just go west and you’ll know when you’re there.”

“Hmm,” he nodded and paused for a moment before getting up and grabbing some nearby sticks and bringing them to the center of the clearing. He started making a fire before you could even question him, “if it draws anything out, I’m sure we can handle it.”

“Thanks Coop,” you watched him work, an odd feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Once the fire was going, he settled down near you, “Cooper?”

“Hmm?”

“We are going west, right?” your question caused him to chuckle before he reached into his pocket and pulled something small out that he passed over you. It was a small silver compass worn and weathered just like him.

“I’m sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but we’ve been goin’ east for the last couple of days,” he shrugged as you groaned at yourself. At least you didn’t have anywhere to be at any particular time, “had I know we’ve been searching for a magical place, I could have told you we were going the wrong way.”

“I guess I’m not as handy as I thought,” you grumbled to yourself, clutching the compass tightly in your hand, “you know you don’t have to come, right?”

“I know,” he nodded, “you think anyone could force me to do something against my will, you don’t know me at all, sugar. Now stop your yapping and get some rest. We’ll start heading west at sunrise.”

You paused for a moment, pulling his coat tighter around you, “thanks, Coop.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next couple of days of trekking passed in relative peace. The two of you were now making your way west for whatever magical place your mom had made you dream of you. You weren’t sure why Cooper was still with you, but you weren’t about to complain. He provided some decent company since you’d had your little heart to heart, but he owed you nothing. You weren’t exactly complaining; he was the closest thing to a friend you’d had in a long time.

But, as things would have it in the wasteland, life threw a wrench in your plans. A wrench in the form of two raiders that definitely weren’t looking to get chummy. 

“Ugh,” you groaned as the two figures approached from a distance. The two of you were outside of a saloon, trying to decide whether to keep pressing on for the evening or staying put and turning in. Cooper followed your line of sight and made a sign of annoyance, “why do I feel like they’re going to make trouble?”

“Well, darlin’, that’s because they’re about to make trouble,” he touched the brim of his hat and pulled it further down. 

“Look who it is,” one of the men sneered at the two of you. He looked about as unfriendly as they came, “the Ghoul of the hour and his little bounty.”

“We heard you were having some trouble delivering her back home,” his partner came up and eyed you without shame. He looked disgusting with greasy hair and rotting teeth, a sinister expression on his face, “so we came to take over.”

“Go fuck yourself,” you spit at him, reaching for the dagger that was at your side. You felt Cooper reach for your hand and gently squeeze it in order to stop you from making any rash moves.

“What this charming sweetheart means is that she is not going back with you,” Cooper smirked at them, “so you can run along now.”

“Fucking Ghoul,” the first man snarled at him, “you couldn’t even do your job. Turn the bitch over and we’ll let you go alive…or whatever the hell you are.”

“You can go back to my father and tell him that he can go fuck himself too,” you hissed, blood boiling with sheer annoyance and anger, “and if you don’t turn around right now-”

“What?” His voice was sticky sweet and filled with vinegar as he smiled at you; both of them had pistols in their hands and that made your stomach churn. They could easily get the jump on you, “you’ll kill me?”

“No,” Cooper pushed you behind him and looked at them with a grin on his face. Of course he’d  be enjoying this, “but I will.”

“Why don’t you just-” but the man couldn’t get another word in as the sound of the gunshot rang through the air, causing you to stumble backwards and cover your ears. A second shot rang out within seconds and you saw the other body fall to the ground. 

It happened so fast that you couldn’t help the shock that ran through your body, causing you to let you let out a loud sob. You’d seen death before, you’d seen things much worse than before but there was something about the moment that was overwhelming. 

Blood spattered the side of the building, causing you to dry heave as you noticed the bits of brain and bone clinging to it. Your ears were still ringing as you tried not to completely lose your grip on reality.

“Hey,” you heard his voice cut through the fog and you felt his hand on your shoulders, helping to keep you steady and upright. You shifted your gaze up and found his eyes concerned, “hey.”

“I-I…” you couldn’t even form a proper sentence as you looked at him, “they…you. You saved me.”

Before he could even respond, you threw your arms around him and held tightly onto him. He was taken aback for a moment before he hugged you back, and you could feel his breath of relief. There was something so good and reassuring about the feel of his arms around you.

“You would have had it handled,” he insisted and you shook your head. 

“No,” you looked at him and to your surprise he gently wiped away your tears, “I couldn’t have. I couldn’t have saved myself this time. Thank you.”

“No need to thank  me, darlin’,” he took your chin in his hand and kept your gaze on his, “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

“I do,” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and nodded slightly, “I do need you. Don’t go.”

“The only place I’m going is west,” there was that smile again, the one that rarely graced his features. The same one that made your legs feel like jello, “are you comin’?”

“Yes,” you promised, “I’m coming.”

“Well then, we best get goin’ sweetheart,” he glanced over the carnage that he left behind, “before someone else comes to make trouble.”

He checked himself over to make sure he had everything ready to. You missed the feel of his touch almost immediately. 

Once he made sure he had everything, he held his hand out to you.

You took it without hesitation. 

[kerosene-in-a-blender]

One thing about Orym saying that he can't put down the lens he sees the world with is that he's completely correct, he's always going to be viewing the moon plot and the conflict with the Ruby Vanguard from the perspective of "a guy whose husband and father were murdered by the Vanguard", but the same could be said about the rest of the party. They all have pre-existing experiences and attitudes that have shaped their perspective on things. Orym isn't uniquely biased in this sense.

The most obvious one is of course Imogen, as her long-absent mother is a Vanguard general. She heard Liliana's voice in her Ruidusborn nightmares telling her to run as long as she had those nightmares, and she came to associate that with her mother trying to protect her from whatever the red storm was. It resulted in Imogen giving a lot of grace to Liliana once she found out she was alive and with the Vanguard, a grace that more recent experiences are now making Imogen start to believe was misplaced, but a grace that was born over what she considered her mother's voice to be for years.

Fearne was raised in relative isolation in the Feywild by Nana Morri, and as result her approach to a lot of the events she's now embroiled in has an oddly naive slant to it. The whole would is new to her and she's approaching it like someone who is new to it; there's a lack of understanding of implications that she has that goes beyond her simply being fey. This is best seen in how she's grappling with the reveal that Sorrowlord Zathuda is her biological father. She's aware that Zathuda is terrible and that the circumstances that led up to her birth are dubious but there's also a large part of her that desires a connection with him as her parent and feels like they could have a relationship. She's naive to what exactly she is to him, and also influenced by having grown up longing for the parents that left her with Morri.

Ashton lost their parents and found themself blown halfway across the world after a cult ritual went wrong, and had a spectacularly shitty life that he often found himself begging the gods to fix without answer, and as a result he's very down on the idea of gods and even more down on the idea of letting a cult do whatever they want in order to achieve the perfect world that is just beyond reach by whatever means they must. Especially after the entire shard debacle in which Ashton learned that their parents were definitely wrong to do what they did and there were no good ends for the means that they engaged in he's fallen even harder onto the line of, as he said himself, "I hope her ends are fucking great because these means are just not forgivable."

Laudna's sole experience with anything resembling a higher power for much of her 50-odd-years of life has been Delilah Briarwood, the woman who had her horrifically murdered and is still rather explicitly using her as a means to some unknowable-to-Laudna end. This has both made her one of the members of Bells Hells most open to the idea of there being no gods (no more puppet masters) but also the most broadly sympathetic towards Liliana's view of the Ruidusborn (that they are creations of Predathos with no choice but to be slaves to his whims). Her ardent belief that her lift ended on the Sun Tree thirty years ago also means that she often refuses to advocate for herself or her own needs, resulting in moments where she openly wonders if it's Imogen's destiny to join the Vanguard, despite having herself been at one point brutally murdered by a Vanguard general.

FCG made it his mission in life to help people; that desire drove a lot of what he did up to and including his final act of sacrifice for the Hells. They saw the people struggling against the Vanguard and with the world that the Vanguard created and chose to do what they could to help them. Their desire to help even extended towards the gods, as one of the first things they asked of the Changbringer upon gaining the ability to cast Commune was, "Do you need help?". FCG was also a character driven by a desperate desire to find purpose and to understand the "why" of their own existence, a desire that ultimately drove them towards religion as a means of shaping the meaning of his life, and made him the most openly religious member of the group up to the moment of his death.

Chetney, while the most able to look beyond his own biases by virtue of being the oldest and most emotionally mature member of the party, still carries with him the perspective of having been someone who ultimately made little impact on the world up until, in his twilight years, random chance granted him the power to affect change. He gained lycanthrophy, he met other adventurers in the Hells, and got caught up in an end of the world plot and is finally making a true difference in the world. It's made him, arguably, the most enthusiastic adventurer in the party because he views that adventure itself as a gift, and as a way to create a legacy. The desire of legacy is also the reason he made the bargain that he did with Nana Morri; to secure a legacy as a famous toymaker that would persist after he is gone.

Orym's right that he's biased, but it's fallacious to assume that an unbiased perspective exists, because everyone in the story has their lens through which they view the world that they can't put down, not just Orym.

[chernabogs]

Belladonna, Forget-me-not, Hyssop, dwarf sunflower 🌻

ouagh thank you for sending a request <3 check out the list here! <3

Inc: Lilia (both present and general), Reader, Silver, Sebek mention WC: 3.5k Warnings: War mention, arson, crimes committed during war time (all my homies hate Silver Owls). Lilia cussing, as he should. Flowers: Belladonna (a confession given without words aka we are pining mentally in the club), Forget me not (the one thing I remembered and how it brought me back to you), Hyssop (one last walk through a house—sort of), Sunflower, dwarf (how many ways do I have to confess for you to believe me?). Some flexibility with these. Summary: A trinket he had forgotten pulls him down a path of memories that he wishes he could forget.

There’s a sunflower in the garden this year. 

He thinks it’s quite curious when he first sees the bud, its petals still closed tight as though afraid to enter the world. He’s standing outside of the front door of his cottage with a mug in hand as he gives it a scrutinizing look. The silence of the forest surrounding his home lets him focus ample attention on how this oddity came to be. Silver has run to town and won’t be back until the evening, aiding Sebek in purchasing school supplies for the coming year, and Malleus is likely packing in his eagerness to get out of the palace for another ten months. 

It’s just Lilia, his mug, and the sunflower. 

“Shy, are we?” He murmurs in amusement as he raises the mug to his lips before they twist to a wry grimace. Perhaps being alone is not good for him—he’s beginning to speak to his gardens like an old man already. 

He wisely turns heel and re-enters the cottage as he downs the bitter coffee before discarding the mug in the sink. He’ll wash the dishes before Silver gets home, only because he knows the boy will do it all himself if he doesn’t, which would do nothing but make Lilia feel guilty. Silver insists it’s fine, he’s happy to help his father—but it shouldn’t be that way. His brow furrows in dissatisfaction as he weaves through the cottage's halls to arrive at his bedroom.

Contrary to his room at NRC, this one is so barren it looks downright unoccupied, like no one has ever lived in it to begin with. Lilia had moved most of his valuables with him when he had received notice of his pending enrolment alongside Malleus. This at least makes sorting out what he’s to wear today much easier as he pulls open the closet to peer inside. His fingers dance along the various fabrics as he hums, and haws, and already knows he’s going to wear the same outfit he wears essentially every day.

Lilia Vanrouge has become a man of consistency—another factor that serves to paint him as ‘old’. 

“Decrepit, even,” he grumbles to himself as he tosses his clothes onto the bed. Perhaps he can spice it up a bit to combat these self-perpetuated accusations through the application of an accessory. The thought pleases him enough to make him reach for the top shelf of his closet, his hand hitting against objects and shoving things around in his bid to grab something useful. Maybe he would have benefited from just floating up to see what he needed to get, because his hand soon hits an item that topples off the shelf and nearly clocks him in the face.

“Shit!” He snarls as he moves back. The box clatters to the floor by his foot with a loud rattle, causing him to glare down at it accusingly. His eyes narrow as another low curse slips out and he fumbles to pick the box up. 

It’s made of carved wood—oak, by the weight of it. Each etching along the sides paints a tale that draws Lilia to a stop as he turns it over in his hands. A figure perched on a tree branch with another sitting beneath, a blade and wood in hand. The two figures are next in a home, with a few flowers hanging to dry from a window. Then they are standing beside each other by a body of water; the carving here is detailed enough that he can see apprehension in one’s gaze and sternness in the others. 

The final carving is incomplete, only because a blackened char mark has burnt the wood to an unusable state. 

Ah.

He remembers why he didn’t take this to NRC. He remembers why he had it shoved in the back of the closet like something rotten, something meant to be concealed. He feels his mood darken as he turns the box over again. Each nick, each mark, tells a tale of something that stirs a burning shame in his gut. His hands tighten enough that he hears the wood creaking under his strength before they relax once more. 

Then, he pauses. Silver won’t be back until far later in the day. He has nothing to do but wash a mug that now sits fermenting in his sink. Beyond this, he’ll simply be wandering from room to room in his cottage like a ghost, perhaps cutting some firewood, perhaps seeing if the bloody quails that have been tormenting his vegetable gardens are back. 

Lilia moves until the back of his knees hit his bed and he sits down, cradling the box more gently now. A sudden urge—a bit of masochistic curiosity—tugs at his heart as his lips curl into a sneer. His thumb brushes against the carving of the figure crouching in the tree. 

Well, if he needs a good way to kill an hour or so. 

“All is as if it were days long past. No matter where it takes us, it will all be over in the blink of an eye. Far cry cradle.” 

_________________________________________________________

The memory begins as it always did any time that he did this. He’s just over 300 years old, his hair long and his body perched on the branches of a tree. He forgot that if he’s personally in the memory, his magic has a habit of tossing him headfirst directly into his body again. The scent of pine overwhelms him as he looks across a Briar Valley that once was just as full of life as he. Green, as far as the eye can see, and the songs of birds that have since gone extinct filling the warm air. 

He shifts on the branch and closes his eyes for a moment as he drinks it all in. Things long since gone, things he wishes he could experience just one more time in his current life. He almost loses himself in the memory—a dangerous risk—before he hears the faint sound of scraping from beneath where he’s perched.

Lilia’s eyes snap open and his gaze travels down to see a figure with a cloak sitting against the pine tree, their hood pulled up as their hands expertly carve a piece of wood with their blade. He can’t quite tell what it is they’re making—and truthfully, he’s long since forgotten. 

But the sound of their voice as they hum an old folk song he hasn’t heard since the war times makes him tense all the same. 

You.

Fuck.

The uncomfortableness of the situation, the realization that perhaps doing this was a mistake on his part, makes him shift back on the branch. This is enough to make a few twigs snap and force your attention to jerk upwards to where he lay. His red gaze locks onto yours as every sound in the forest falls silent and all he knows is the confusion in your eyes. 

“How long have you been up there?” You blurt out, your voice sounding exactly how he hears it in his dreams for the past four hundred years. A strangled sound leaves his throat, and with all of the energy he can muster, Lilia jerks himself free of the memory. 

_________________________________________________________

He stutters for air as his eyes open once more and he grips the box tight. The carving of his body on the branch overlooking yours at the base is now just a mockery for things he foolishly lost. The only way he can know you now is through the use of magic, and even that cannot return you entirely. 

He shouldn’t be doing this. A glance at the clock on the wall tells him he was in the memory for fifteen minutes, despite it feeling only like mere seconds. 

He shouldn’t be doing this. He turns the box over in his hand to look at the next carving. The two figures in a home, with a few flowers hanging to dry from a window. He notes with a bitter amusement that they’re all sunflowers.

The box should go back on the top shelf. He should lock it away again and forget it, leave it for Silver to find only once his father is dead and rotting under the earth. Perhaps the boy can finish what the humans started—burning it to nothing but cinders. 

He shouldn’t be doing this to himself, and yet… 

“All is as if it were days long past. No matter where it takes us, it will all be over in the blink of an eye. Far cry cradle.” 

_________________________________________________________

Lilia finds himself standing in a small cottage eerily reminiscent of his own. He knows a few months have passed since the first encounter by the way there’s snow falling heavily from the skies outside. Briar Valley’s winters are vicious—as untamed as the land itself once had been before metal teeth had torn it apart and left the fae to clean its viscera. His gaze travels to the window nearby to look out at the landscape before it’s drawn upwards to the flowers hanging down from the sill. 

Sunflowers, which look as fresh as the day they were likely picked, paint a cheery picture against the bleak backdrop beyond. 

“I am afraid it isn’t quite perfect, but it should do the trick to warm you up.” Your voice's soft cadence causes his shoulders to tense as he doesn’t turn around to face you. He can hear you humming, the sound of a bowl being set on a nearby table, and the aroma of something so intoxicating it makes his stomach twist in phantom hunger. “Why were you rushing through this blizzard to begin with?”

Lilia blinks as silence falls. You’re waiting for his response. This likely won’t play out unless he gives it.

“Her majesty bid me to deliver a missive to Princess Meleanor.” He murmurs, eyes still fixated on the sunflower. They almost look real to him despite the knowledge that this is nothing but an illusion. He hears you hum in disapproval. You often did that—hummed a lot, laughed a lot.

“Terrible weather to be doing so, but I suppose if it’s urgent, you can’t sit on it. At least have something to eat before you go braving Briar Nation once more.” 

His head turns slightly so that he can catch a glimpse of you in his peripheral vision. Your back is to him as you scoop more food into a second bowl. You’re not unique—just another fae in a nation of many—but you stand out to him. Four hundred years later, he still struggles to rationalize why. 

“You must like sunflowers a lot.” He comments abruptly. He didn’t say this in the memory, and he can tell by the way it seems to stutter around him. You still turn and look at him in confusion, however. “You only have sunflowers hanging on your window.”

“Oh!” You seem surprised, and then delighted as a smile graces your face. He wishes he had never seen that again. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” 

He wants to say something, perhaps ‘I know’, but the memory melts away before the words can leave his tongue.

_________________________________________________________

Lilia tastes copper when his eyes snap to the clock on the wall. Thirty minutes have gone by now—another fifteen in the previous memory. His hands shake slightly as he turns the box over like a man under a compulsion. The carving of two figures by the water seems to be taunting him as his thumb traces across your body. 

He doesn’t even bother speaking the phrase clearly this time. It comes as a mumble, and suddenly he’s falling into darkness again. 

_________________________________________________________

Tension is palpable when Lilia opens his eyes. Although it’s spring, the warmth seems nonexistent in the air as deafening silence fills where he stands. You’re by his side, your arms crossed tight over your chest as you stare at the pond beyond. By your feet, a patch of sunflowers smiles up at the bright skies above.

“How much longer do you think it will last before they wipe it clean?” You ask, your voice containing barely concealed rage as your nails dig into your sleeves. His jaw clenches as he shrugs one shoulder.

“A week. A month. A year. It could be any amount of time. They have new machines that they’ve been using—new means to rip open our nation to reach its heart.” He scoffs and turns sharply. “Fucking humans. Why did they need to come here to begin with? We were fine before they came crawling onto our shores, with their bitching, and moaning, and noxious fucking machines!”

“Lilia.” Your voice is calmer as he feels your hand touch his arm. His fury simmers slightly under this action. “At least we’re gaining some ground against them, right? And they haven’t reached all of Briar Nation yet. I can still provide game and herbs to the neighbouring villages—there’s an abundance surrounding my cottage.” 

Lilia wants to say that’s because all of the animals are being driven deeper into the woods, but he holds his tongue as he meets your steadfast gaze. In the period of time since he’s come to know you, he’s also realized that your stubbornness will have you refuting every claim with an optimistic one of your own. Already you had staunchly refused to leave your cottage despite the looming threat drawing ever so nearby.

“I need to go soon.” He finally sighs as he tears his gaze away from you to the pond again. He hasn’t seen this pond since the war era simply because he knows it was drained for the Silver Owls' use. He hears your own sigh slip out as you remove your hand. The skin that you touched aches in its absence. 

He steals a glance at you and tries to preserve your side-profile in his mind. If he could, he would carve it onto every surface he possessed, marking every line and bump that comprised the masterpiece that is you to his liking. He has already devoted himself by this point to mapping these curves with his fingers under the shadow of Briar Nations endless nights. He has memorized every sound you make, as sweet as any song can be, and which places on your body elicit such music. You had both entered this dance as a means to release stress—but now, four hundred years later, he knows it meant so much more. 

He wants to sweep you in his arms. He wants to pull you to safety, to silence your protests with hushed whispers and utterances of his devotion. He wants to pour his heart into your hands until he’s empty and belonging entirely to you. He is a man who, once he devotes himself to something, gives endlessly until he remains a ghost of who he once was.

He loves you in this moment, where the sun dapples your skin, and he can pretend he’s still in the Briar Nation he knew. So, he breaks conduct again. 

“You should leave.” The memory wavers at his words. In the past, he had simply turned at this point to begin returning to your cottage so that he could ready his travel pack. “You should go to the next village over. Go somewhere safe.”

The memory wavers again, fraying along the edges, and yet still Lilia finds himself persevering. “Please. I don’t want to see what’s going to happen next.” 

You turn to look at him as his vision begins to darken. Your brow furrows, confusion etching your face as the last words you speak feel like a nail in his own coffin. 

“Lilia, this is my home.”  

_________________________________________________________

He doesn’t immediately speak as he comes back again. The clock shows forty-five minutes have passed now, and the lighting in the bedroom he sits in has altered to reflect this. A numbness has crept into his body and settled just below his skin. It fluctuates and writhes like an insect and causes him to shiver as he rotates the box once more.

The last carving is incomplete. The black marks that mar its surface guarantee this. Faintly, he can smell smoke on both the box and his hands as he traces his thumb across this, as well.

It comes back filthy. 

Lilia’s expression schools itself to a blank look as the silence of the empty cottage perpetuates. Only his breathing breaks the still air, stuttering slightly as his lips part. 

“... far cry cradle.” 

_________________________________________________________

Lilia can smell it before he sees it. Wood, smouldering in the unforgiving winter sun, accompanied by something more pungent and feral. He’s already running by the time he snaps into the memory, his feet dragging through heavy snow as he fights against the elements to reach the treeline. He can see dark smoke pluming upwards.

It’s always too late by the time he arrives. 

His steps slow, his feet drawing to a stop as cold snow soaks through his pants. Before him lays a painting of carnage, crafted by human hands, and displayed for the eyes of any fae passing by. Footsteps trample in the aged snow that surrounds the smouldering husk of the structure. Your words regarding your cottage being in a hot spot for game and herbs ring as a mockery now in his ears as he slowly, slowly, inches closer. 

“Hello?” His voice cracks as the words leave him. The forest echoes them back—hello? Hello? Hello?

Stone dust scatters across the white earth as his hand comes to touch the frame you had been so proud of when you had first shown it off. Burnt, with embers still smouldering in the wood. He feels afraid to step further, but he knows that if he doesn’t then he’ll never get the satisfaction of knowing whether you may have survived it or not. 

Lilia passes through the door frame. He looks up to what remains of your roof, to the space where sunflowers once hung, and then just beyond the large wooden table you had carved for yourself as well. A small box sits perfectly on its blackened surface, like it had been placed on display intentionally for his discovery. 

The memory begins to blur at this point. Things that should be there soon bleed into black outlines, dripping down onto the floor with a rhythmic thump. He can see static in what looks like the shape of an arm peeking out from behind the table leg as his stomach twists, and rage begins to flood through his veins in place of blood. A stuttering breath leaves him as the static arm remains still.

He is General Lilia Vanrouge. He is a soldier. He is meant to protect his people, and yet, and yet—

_________________________________________________________

Lilia snaps out of this memory by throwing the box to the floor. It clatters at his outburst before he kicks it viciously into the closet, his breath leaving him in ragged gasps as he does. His mind is a blur as his one hand grips the sheets beneath him and the other grabs his collar, trying to ground him in the moment before the whole world spins out of proportion. 

He is not General Lilia Vanrouge. He is not a soldier. He is not walking into the home of the person he thought he loved, forced to bury what was left of them in a pauper's grave—just another loss in the wartime. 

He is a man, sitting in his cottage, with a son who will be home by evening and a school he needs to pack for. 

“Fuck,” he groans, pressing his face into his hands as he shakes himself free of the thoughts. “Fuck... fuck!”

A brief glance at the clock shows an hour has passed by now. His chest feels heavy, and his mind full of cotton as he dresses in a mechanical manner before going about his chores for the day.

By the time Silver returns, he’s fought off the quails, weeded the garden, cut firewood, and cleared the gutters. What he hasn’t done is clean the mug that’s been sitting in the sink since the morning—a task that Silver happily takes on after Lilia looks close to losing it.

If his son notices anything else off about his father, he says nothing about it, but Lilia does note the way Silver seems a bit more talkative than usual this evening. Lilia’s mind continues to replay the memories he experienced in a macabre theatrical viewing as he tries hard to listen to what Silver is saying. Eventually, they both fall silent as Silver washes the mug, along with the dishes from dinner in addition. The sun is beginning to set when he pauses to peer out the window with a curious expression.

“Did you see the sunflower in the garden?” Silver asks, his voice soft as he finishes drying off the mug. Lilia raises an eyebrow as he looks up again.

“What about it?” 

“It opened up.” Silver looks surprised, and then delighted as a smile graces his face. Lilia’s eyes widen as he notes the similarities between the childish joy on his son's face, and that which he once saw on your own.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

[ghvst-ing]

It’s not real.

Paring; Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings; Nightmares. Blood. Mentions of torture. Death. 09’ Ghost’s backstory.

The scene Simon is met with was not one he hadn’t witnessed a milion times before, yet it didn’t stop the way his blood ran cold.

It’s grotesque, chilling, revolting; something that could make even grown men hurl. Something he, personally, had grown desensitized from due to his job, the things he’d seen, the things he’d done.

He’s frozen in place as only a spectator, finding himself within the walls of his childhood home, the place he despised, a place he wished to never return to.

Decorated for the holidays, the Christmas spirit floated throughout the apartment, along with the muted smell of freshly baked, gingerbread cookies. Yet he couldn’t focus on the warmth he should’ve been able to, but what was presented before him.

A corny film played from the tv, tucked in the corner of the living room beside a messily decorated Christmas tree, but it’s drowned out by the ringing in Simon’s ears — his eyes trained on the four corpses spread across the carpeted floor, unable to look away from the sight.

It’s almost an unfortunate coincidence for him to have forcefully kicked out his bastard of a father, the only one deserving of such fate, a few months prior.

His mother. His brother, Tommy. Beth, and little Joseph. Dead, a bullet lodged deep in each of their skulls, staining the light carpet underneath a crimson red. His young nephew, somewhat cradled within his mother’s arms, held in a loose embrace, the poor boy not excluded from the same demise his parents suffered.

Even years after he returned to witness this event, it still haunted him; stayed buried in the back of his mind waiting for the right time to come forth, reminded him of all he endured to that point and how he couldn’t have a moment of peace in his god awful life.

Weirdly enough, for the first time he could remember, the image shifted.

From a lively — yet gory scenery, it changed into one resembling a holding cell. A cell he could vividly recall from ages ago and carried, both mental and physical scars from.

But it wasn’t the same to his luck, yet his guard remained high, head turning to examine the musty room.

It was dark, damp, an old-ish wooden table pushed up against the wall next to the heavy, steel door, shut close in order to prevent the person inside from potentially escaping.

A multum of weapons topped the surface, choices upon choices for a tool of torture, dried blood sullying the shiny metal. It all hit close to home. Uncomfortably familiar, painfully so.

But his heart stopped when his eyes landed on a sight he never hoped to see, fingers unconsciously flexing as a lump formed in his throat and his body itched to rush over.

A chair was placed, dead-center of the room. Rough ropes bound someone to it — you, head hung low, wounds and bruises marrying any skin visible on your person, making his breath hitch in his throat.

He was finally released from the mental bounds that held him in place, feet moving in long strides to get to you. Simon could feel his pulse in his ears, his heart pounding against his ribcage almost painfully.

“Love..” He muttered, voice barely audible as the words slipped from his lips, knees bending to crouch before you. “Fuck,” Trembling fingers curled softly under your chin as his eyes surveyed the damaged done to your face.

A split lip, a bloody nose, and a black eye, along with other, smaller cuts littering your face. But it wasn’t what made him fret. It was the coldness of your skin, cool to the touch.

Your name fell from his mouth in a frantic whisper. “No, no..” Simon’s hand slowly fell from your chin to your jugular, the rough pads of his fingertips hesitantly pressing against your pulse point. Only to find none, confirming his fears.

It’s then that he finally awoke in a cold sweat from the terrors his mind conjured up. He sprung up, breaths uneven and ragged as he took notice of his surroundings, brought back to reality.

His eyes grew used to the darkness within the bedroom, the gentle glow of the moon seeping in through the gaps of the curtains. The comfortingly familiar vicinity eased his raging nerves, clammy hands curling in the sheets.

It reminds him that he is safe, that what he just experienced was nothing but a cruel nightmare as his gaze falls to your sleeping figure beside him.

You look peaceful, he thinks.

Simon watches as your chest rises and falls with each gentle breath, eyelids shut and lips ever so slightly parted. Your hair was ruffled, spread across the pillow. But even so, you never looked prettier to him.

You’re safe.

The image he saw within his dream flashed before him; you, held captive, most likely due to the connections you held with him, tortured for information you couldn’t possibly have. It frightened him. For it wasn’t impossible for the situation he was faced with moments before to happen.

It was just a nightmare, he reminded himself.

His tense shoulders sagged in relief, a long sigh pushing past his tight-lipped frown. Under the sheets, he shifts his body and turns onto his side, the side of his face meeting the plush pillow as a burly arm slowly curls over you, bringing you close to his chest.

A chaste kiss is pressed to your forehead, Simon’s eyes briefly falling closed as he finally relaxed. His brain is swarmed by thoughts, yet one took precedence as his leg lightly nudged yours in search of the warmth your touch provided.

It wasn’t real.

do i like this? not exactly, but let’s roll.

[chillwildwave]

The Wishing Kingdom: Chapter 1: Our Story Starts

(The screen is blank for a few seconds, until a font that says “A few years later” appears, one that faded away, we get our first glimpse of the hamlet, in that area, there’s triangle-shaped roofs of each house staked onto cobblestone rocks in front of some swoopy trees as it’s built as a safe habitat for others to stay safe from the king and queen, then, we see some ragged-clothed people holding on to some laundry and some soil to create a fireplace for themselves to stay warm and to make some food from it as well.)

(Like this shot from The Last Unicorn except it’s showing the rest of the Hamlet.)

After 2 minutes of all that is going on, we get introduced to 12-year-old Asha as she is seen sleeping in her bedroom until the sunshine splashes on her face, waking herself up even though it was so early in the morning.

“Woah! Is it that time already, it’s gone fast than I can hardly imagine!” Asha stretches her arms while seated in her bed, she also got a small glimpse of her pet goat, Valentino with a piece of white cloth on his mouth persuading her to do her work.

“MAAAAAA” Valentino screeched with such enthusiasm.

“Hey there bud, ready to start the day?” She hops out of bed to touch his face as she gently takes the cloth out his mouth, not long after, we get to see Sakina and Sabino walking over to Asha’s side.

“Awww, our little Asha being a grown-up lass, isn’t she just so gentle?” Sabino touches her cheek playfully while he gives his hand to petting Valentino, Sakina joins in too before she is urged to say something as well.

“Yeah, you’re so right, dear, and she will always remain to be here with us for eternity.” She slowly looks at Asha, a slow orchestral background plays that is so loving and gentle before Asha speaks.

“Awww, thank you guys, I could’ve never asked for anything better, now, who’s ready for chores?” She got herself up and held up the white cloth as if she were one of those guards, almost leaving confusion on Valentino, Sakina and Sabino’s faces.

That is until Valentino started jumping around Asha with his paw gesturing the outside of the hamlet, being impatient, from that reaction, Sabino, Sakina and Asha look at each other before they shrugged, grabbed their equipment and opened the door to a brand new day, which leads to the first song!

Our Hamlet/ Our Rosas

In this opening musical number, it shows us what life is like between both worlds, the hidden hamlet which was made as a safe habitat for folks who want to be safe from the king and queen who held Rosas captive, it’s a bit like “Belle”, “Circle of Life” and “Steady as The Beating Drum”, it’s sort of like that but more of a welcome edition to the world.

(Before the song starts, Asha opens the cottage doors with Sabino and Sakina by her side as she grabs her basket to get her work done!)

(Asha)

The people have so much joy in the air,

They know a brand new day is here to stay,

It’s the same morning,

The town here is shining, whoops sorry!

(During the first line, we get a shot of a few people walking around and doing their work with smiles on their faces while Asha strolls around with her basket following every step, in the final line, she accidentally bumps into a young man who is just about to finish his laundry, as she runs off, he rolls his eyes and continues with what he is doing.)

Everyone’s got something,

On their mind that’s spinning,

Behind these roots and those leaves,

Lies a town I can’t leave!

(While Asha is singing the second line, she is seen jumping down on the stairs of each cottage simply made of rocks while observing the people around her, when she says the third line, she gestures the trees and spins around them as if this is her place of comfort.)

(Everyone)

Here inside this hamlet,

We grab the cloth and go,

The scrubbin, the washing,

Is all we have to hold,

Here inside this hamlet,

Our wishes stay aglow,

Who knows what miracles,

Have in store,

In our hamlet.

(With the chorus going in, we go into some townspeople telling others about the work and using their hard work as a purpose to keep their wishes glowing, in one shot, Leo is seen guarding one house whereas Dextrous sleeps on his shoulder, he wakes up suddenly to start guarding, in the final line, we than pan over to the kingdom of Rosas, where King Magnifico and Queen Amaya rule over their subjects.

A citizen of Rosas starts to sing as he is carrying a massive sack of royalty for the king and queen)

(Citizen 1)

With all this load left to hold, I might drain,

What if they find out, they might go insane!

(Citizen 2)

These broken wings of mine,

Yet when will they fly again?

(Both citizens are at the marketplace of Rosas when singing those lines, the first line is supposed to show how the people are forced to work tirelessly with no sleep in order to please the king and queen, and also, the line “these broken wings of mine, yet when will they fly again?” that citizen 2 is singing, the line is supposed to highlight how the citizens of Rosas are enslaved by Magnifico and Amaya’s power forcing them to do everything they say, but the question that is sung emphasises freedom for themselves so that they can pursue their own dreams of their own.)

(Both citizens)

It feels like death is holding on to me,

Just you wait for the day, we’d all be free!

(All citizens)

Right here in Rosas,

Where flowers stay bloomed,

Where a tragedy hits so deep,

Which made our home so bruised,

Right here in Rosas,

We’re holding onto our hopes,

Who knows what lies beneath this hoax,

Behind those heavy doors,

In our Rosas,

In our hamlet!

(In the last chorus, we get a massive set of choreography where the citizens are gathering around as they are dancing around the plaza, in one shot, you get a medium shot of a few people in rags being persuaded to dance along with the citizens, in another shot, some people dance around the statues of Magnifico and Amaya paired together, throughout this number, we get the idea that the Hamlet is a safe haven where they keep their wishes protected whereas Rosas is a literal dystopia where slavery is forced by the king and queen.)

After the number, the camera goes right back to the hamlet where Asha is just about to get her work finished.

There’s a point where she spots Dextrous humming the previous song whilst leaning against the cottage door, her hand rested on his shoulder while she suggests him to get on with his job.

“Eh, sorry miss, I’m just bothered at the moment, it’d be best if you leave me here to rest.” Dextrous replied as his eyes are half-closed like he was about to go to sleep.

“Oh, come on, doing your own work isn’t so bad after all.” She expressed while her hands grasped onto her basket of laundry where she was about to head to the river nearby, that is until Leo arrives with her sketchbook in his hand.

“Heh, looks like you forgot this! Now let’s see here, hmm…” He snoops over her pages (not in a mean way but more of a playful yet innocent way.) which only made Asha twitch her eye a bit, so she starts some banter while he still has her book.

“Been swearing, haven’t ya?”

“No, no I haven’t, I was only just filled with smoke, how can I not puff it all out?” Her sarcastic voice puts him off a bit but it doesn’t bother him.

“Heh, I didn’t know you can tell me how this got you to write like this?”

“Stop playing, Leo, it’s just my thoughts, and personally, it’s like everyone has a story.” She snatches the book of him while she rubs it with her apron, catching Leo and Dextrous aghast when she says that everyone has a story.

“Well, yeah, that is the truth.” She starts opening her sketchbook to show her some of her drawings with Leo and Dextrous. “This here is where I started my first drawing, I know it isn’t perfect like you guys would say it is.”

“Perfect?! Since when did I hear someone say perfect throughout their whole life?” Leo raised his eyebrow, he knew it was all a joke.

Asha’s eyes knitted the friends. “Um, dunno, it just came out of my head, the fact that it’s not really my best drawings…”

“Oh come on, we all love your drawings, imperfect or not.” Dextrous opened his eyes and expressed his true feelings to his trusted friend.

“Thanks… But, I feel like…” After Asha stutters on what is trying to come out of her mouth, we are shown that in a few pages of her messed up sketches and doodles to different types of constillations, gliding across the book as if its a first draft on her finished work,

(This is used to emphasise on how Asha has been willing to inspire people through her own work, she knows that sketching and writing her thoughts is her only strength and she has a fault for seeing the eyes of other people, but in terms of art style, she’s willing to improve as well.)

Leo and Dextrous were wide-mouthed after seeing her pages. “I see, it’s as deep as I could’ve imagined as well.”

“But no matter what happens, you don’t need to always say that you need time to finish with whatever you’re doing, what matters is that we’re here to support you, Asha, just remember that!” Leo’s words fuelled her heart which opened so wide with admiration.

“I mean, yeah, you are the one who fills the world with sunshine.” Dextrous replies as well. (There’s your first reference of the rewrite, Snow White right here, but this is used to describe how much Asha cares for her friends so much and they're willing to support her.)

“So you mean that whenever you’re turning black, I’m the one who completely changes your colour to make you brighter with my heart?” She questioned, she didn’t quite get it all at once.

“Yes, that’s what we mean.” Leo answered back.

Unfortunately, we hear Gilllia’s anger behind the cottage nearby, she is called by him but she walks over with her arms crossed and sat at the furthest pit of the cottage they were standing with.

“WHATS ALL THE FUSS ABOUT?! DIDNT MY DAY JUST CRUMBLE?! Her croaky voice caught everyone’s attention all of a sudden.

“Looks like someone got hit by the wrong ball over there!” Dextrous joked as he gestures right towards Gillia.

“Dextrous!” Leo scoffed and knudged him in the arm leaving him shocked.

“Anyway, what’s the point of showing these sketches and making them your life source, kind of a waste if you think about it.” She said more calmly but she still had that temper slipping through her veins.

“Oh Gilllia, it’s not that bad of a habit, unless you get bored of it like it’s the same thing, but you see here, this page looks off, can you see? Here?” Asha walks over to her and then gestures the page of a drawing of a hamlet citizen, (a concept art version if you want to put it correctly.)

It takes her a bit of time to figure out what is wrong with Asha’s drawing, she instead replies with, “There’s not a single thing I can point out, Asha, the drawing is actually quite good, since when did you get this sort of talent?”

“Taught it myself, you know, I was thinking I’d tell you guys since I’ve been curious about what wishes you’ll write for the stars.” The topic slowly changed as soon as Asha is sat between her friends whilst she is hesitant for their answers.

“To be honest, I don’t know what to wish for, but I’ve heard so many stories about the stars years ago.” This was Leo’s only answer he could come up with before Dextrous took his turn to answer.

“No matter how much I might’ve said this, I think I might wish to be more aware of my surroundings.” Dextrous looks down at his feet after that, “But I feel like I’m getting the hang of it, ya know?”

Gillia’s eyebrows transform into a distant frown when she was asked about what she wanted to wish for, but everyone else knew that her mouth was closed, maybe she isn't ready yet or she doesn't feel like talking about it with her other friends, even though they are the ones who she can trust.

“I guess she isn't ready yet, maybe we'll ask her at some point.” Dexterous patted on her shoulder and eyed right at Asha as she is about to pick her own laundry up from the basket.

“Yeah, but I feel like I also don't know what to wish for, making a wish is complicated because there are so many opportunities one person can hold, but does it really matter if we sit down with our head on the desk, we think about what drives us to pursue that wish?” Leo sighed while he slowly caught a glimpse of the morning sky. “When the stars come out, I hope they answer one’s call.”

“Don't worry, Leo, I’m sure they will come out someday, I know it, and it goes for all of you, when your wish is shown on a ribbon, the stars will listen closely and make sure to grant it as soon as possible!” Asha replied to Leo as his heart slowly began to warm up from her wisdom.

We then take a few seconds for the friend group to look at their hearts to make sure that their wishes are secured, meanwhile, Asha glanced at a castle not so far away and then looked back at where she was, until a voice appears…

“Asha! Time to go back home now!” The voice shouted from a distance.

From there, she starts to pack her laundry and before going straight away, she slowly starts saying goodbye to her friends and they wave back as she climbs up the rocks all the way back to her cottage.

*****************

Final Notes

This is the first chapter that I fully wrote to start off the story of “The Wishing Kingdom”, with the hamlet and Rosas song, I wanted to show you different sides of both worlds and how each person lives their regular life, what I also wanted to show you was the dynamic between Asha and her three friends with each of them supporting one another.

Forgot to mention that the montage of Asha’s drawings, I wanted to use that as a metaphor as to what Walt Disney truly meant when he wanted to create fairy tales into movies, like he did with Snow White, it's also a metaphor for animation as a whole, you know like teaching yourself the basic principles and how they inhabit life into characters and objects!

But don't worry, in Chapter 2, you will see Sakina, Sabino and Asha’s dynamic whilst also getting our first glimpse of the king and queen of Rosas and what they do for a living as well. But in that chapter alone, you will see that the wishes mean so much more to the Hamlet according to Sabino, so you will get more of him, so for now, stay tuned for more!

@annymation @uva124 @emillyverse @signed-sapphire @wings-of-sapphire @mythartist21 @rascalentertainments @oh-shtars @flicklikesstuff @ahomeinthestars-wishrewrite @frogcoven88 @ficsinhistory @synergysilhouette @tumblingdownthefoxden @kstarsarts @your-ne1ghbor @spectator-zee @rylxdreams @gracebethartacc @gracebeth3604 @hopeyarts @dangerousflowerpanda

[swiss-mrs]

EVERMORE: Chapter One

Eddie Munson Fic - Evermore Directory - Word Count: 7.4K

Music blared through Eddie’s ears as he stared out the dingy bus window. “It's for the best, kid.” Wayne's voice echoed through his mind. “You know I care for you, son, but I have no clue how to handle this.” His uncle's sorrowful and concerned expression was drilled into Eddie’s mind.

It's been three months since his return, six since his ‘death’. The world has fallen into autumn, red and brown leaves adorning the trees that pass in a blur. “You'll master your powers and meet others like you. I'll miss you all over again, man.” He could still feel Dustin's tears soaking through his shirt.

Eddie wasn't completely alone on the bus. Aside from the driver, there was a girl, probably around 15, sobbing in the back of the bus, and a boy who looked no or older than 12 or 13 towards the front of the bus, staring out the window in a similar fashion to Eddie. His eyes were dry, but he didn't really look happy to be on this bus ride either. 

Eddie was sat in the middle, a good amount of space between both the others. According to his watch, they were about 11 hours into their 13 hour drive. He glances over his shoulder to find the girl passed out against the window with dried tears on her face. He turns to look in front of him to find the boy still staring out the window blankly. He wondered if either of these children went through the same thing he did. Did they also suddenly gain mysterious, super natural powers they can't seem to control? Did they too do something unforgivable to put them here? He sighs and averts his eyes back to the window. The morning sun was peeking over the skyline. Did they always do night pickups? Was it to hide their shipments?

Eddie's leg began to bounce as they neared closer and closer. ‘Welcome to Vermont’ the sign read as they passed. He knew this was the best choice but that couldn't stop his heart from feeling betrayed and bitter.

Over the last three months, he was plagued with night terrors and migraines. It made him detached and irritable beyond belief. He lost count how many times Wayne was unfortunately on the wrong end of those lash outs. Every time, Eddie felt a pang of regret immediately after, but that didn't keep it from happening again and again.

Eddie was never this bad. He'd always been a good kid despite what everyone thought, despite his transcript. Wayne had no clue what to do when Eddie came back a full 180. The last thing he was expecting that day was to find his dead nephew alive and passed out on their front porch.

Wayne genuinely thought he might’ve been hallucinating. All the exhaustion had fleeted, and he rushed Eddie inside to keep him from prying eyes. It was a miracle no one saw him. When he woke, Eddie was too weak to actually explain himself, not that he even had answers to give. Eventually, Wayne just said to hell with it, and simply catered to his kid. Never in all of Eddie's years had he ever known Wayne to take a day off, but for Eddie, he took several. Three days and nights were spent aiding Eddie back to health. He fed him when he was too weak to lift a spoon and held him when he cried from head splitting nightmares. By the morning of day four, Eddie was at least able to make it to the bathroom and back on his own. Wayne made sure to have some food prepared for Eddie in case he got hungry during his night shift and told him to call if anything went wrong. He'd be back in a heartbeat.

As the weeks went by, Eddie became stronger and stronger, more than before. His night terrors didn't stop, but he was at least able to stop screaming and crying himself awake.

It was just two weeks ago that Eddie had done something he couldn't forgive himself for. He hurt Wayne.

He remembers the dream like  a real memory. He was taller, bigger, but, somehow, he also felt lighter. He remembers looking down at his hands and seeing his pale fingers were replaced with slender, dark gray appendages. His blunt fingernails were now black sharp claws. His back felt heavy, like someone had strapped 300 pound weights to his shoulder blades. He remembers looking down at his body and being horrified. He's a monster, a real monster. His breathing started to pick up, and he began to feel lightheaded, a dull thumping in his mind. Though he was panicked at the sight of himself, there was this itching in the back of his brain. Something was there. He had felt an urge he'd never felt before. It was dark and malevolent. It scared him. What's happening to me?! He began thrashing about at the stale air around him, an unfamiliar roar coming from within him, rumbling through his chest. It was so boisterous that it rattled his own eardrums.

He was shaken out of his dream by the sound of his uncle's voice, “Christ!” Eddie's eyes rip open, and he immediately realizes his back on the ceiling. As soon as the realization hits, he falls to his bed, bouncing off and onto the floor with a heavy thud. Still in his panicked state, he yells, scrambling to back away from an invisible horror in front of him. Wayne made the mistake of rushing to his aid.

Feeling a grip on his shoulder in the midst of his screaming panic, Eddie swings an arm around, clawing at the perpetrator. “Ah!” His uncle's voice rings out in pain. Eddie's eyes snap up to the source, finding Wayne falling back, clutching his chest. Blood escapes his skin, staining the torn front of his shirt. Eddie stares up at his shocked uncle in terror.

“Wayne!” He yells, full of concern. He reaches out to him but is immediately taken aback when he sees the black, blood soaked claws on his hand. The tips of his fingers were shade gray as if halfway turned into the monster he was in his dream. He screams in horror at the sight of his own hand.

“Son!” Wayne's voice yells. Despite the blood rising down his front, Wayne closes in on Eddie, gripping his shoulders to grab his attention. Eddie's eyes find Wayne's, and he stops screaming. Tears immediately fill his eyes, and his uncle painfully brings him into his chest, holding him tightly. As Wayne rocked side to side, Eddie could feel the warmth of his uncle’s blood smear on his face and neck. Eddie sobbed uncontrollably, struggling to breathe as his heart pounded irregularly in his chest.

Eddie closes his eyes and leans his head against the bus window with a dull thud. He could feel his eyelashes dampen at the memory of that night, an all too familiar anxious drumming behind his ribs. This is for the best. He repeats in his head. He can't allow something like that to happen again, ever. 

Before he knows it, the bus is passing a ‘Welcome to Jericho’ sign then not too long after driving through a black metal gate that reads ‘Nevermore Academy’ at the top in a gothic font. The bus pulls to a stop into the driveway.

Wordlessly, the driver exits the bus after opening the doors for the few passengers. Eddie takes in the new location through the window. There's an older, dark skinned man with dreadlocks conversing with the bus driver, giving him a friendly greeting with a smile. Are those horns? The man helps load the few bags that were in the bus's storage compartment into a trailer on the back cart of a small vehicle. They give each other their farewells and the bus driver goes to tend to the bus while the man hops in the car to drive away.

“Hey, mister?” Eddie's gaze switches to the little boy who was now standing in the aisle looking at Eddie. He takes one of his wired earbuds out.  “It's time to get off.” The boy says timidly. Eddie nods and stands up in his seat, towering over the kid. The little boy turns to rush off the bus as Eddie puts his backpack on. He glances around the bus to realize it's empty. The girl must've already got off too.

Eddie trudged down the aisle, ducking a little to avoid bumping his head against the roof of the bus. He walks down the stairs, slowly stepping off the final one as he takes in a deep breath. The air here was a bit chilly, crisp, but it filled his lungs graciously. He walks up to stand beside the two younger kids. They stand in a line, in front of a tall platinum blonde woman dressed in a monochrome, light gray outfit. She began to speak a ingenuine speech, no doubt repeated a million times to every new arrival. Eddie tuned her out, just taking in her appearance. Her eyes were a piercing blue shade, and her lips were colored red, highlighting her smile. Her teeth were white and perfectly aligned. She had an unreadable aura around her. She reminded Eddie of a shark. Her sheer existence is just off-putting.

It seemed like her speech was coming to an end as she then gestures to a student beside her. “This will be your mentor, your guide, Mr. Sheridan.” She averts her eyes to look down at the young man standing next to her. He could easily be around 18 years old, most likely a senior or something. His dark brown hair was cut short and styled perfectly. He had blue eyes, defined lips, and a strong jawline. Judging from his looks, his neat appearance, and ironed stiff school uniform, he must be this school's ‘The King’ equivalent. He held a tight, polite smile. “Mr. Sheridan here is a great student who will ensure to take good care of you. You truly are in good hands.” He looks up at the official looking lady with a bashful grin before looking back at the three. He nods to the younger kids then looks over to Eddie with a curious expression. Eddie looks deadpan at the guy and the student turns to address the full group.

“It is an honor to meet you all.” His English accent rings out. Eddie fights the urge to roll his eyes. “I will be your go to informant to guide you and get you accustomed to the ins and outs of our daily life here at Nevermore Academy.” Jeez, this guy sounds like a douche. Eddie thinks, using the second scripted speech to get a good look at the building and grounds from where he stood. “Please, follow me.” Eddie's attention is brought back to the senior as the kids next to him start moving.

“Welcome to Nevermore, dear students!” The lady calls out as they walk passed. Eddie ignores the spiel getting rambled off about how their first days will be laid out, instead looking around at the campus as they walk through. He's enamored by the sights the school offers. It's something straight out of a book. His chest can't help but feel a little giddy.

The campus seems strangely empty for being as large as it is. As if reading his mind, the young boy raises his hand to ask a question, “Excuse me, Mr. Sheridan?”

“Please, my name is Henry.”

“Where are all the other students?” The tan boy asks. The student, Henry, gives the shorter kid a kind smile and nods.

“Good question.” He chuckles, “Classes are in session right now. You three arrived kind of mid-day for most of us.” He looks down at his silver, expensive looking watch, causing Eddie to subconsciously do the same with his much less expensive, rubber one. 10:36 AM. Eddie drops his wrist. “Actually, this class period should be releasing some students here in about the next 15 minutes.” He looks back up at the trio with a polite grin. “We're making pretty good time. Our first stop is going to be the administrative office. We'll get your schedules. You'll get fitted for your uniforms, and we'll get your dorm keys.” He turns back around with a motion to continue following him. Eddie trails behind a little, not necessarily in any hurry.

Henry opens up the door to the office, holding it ajar for the trio to enter ahead of him. Oh, what a gentleman. Eddie fawns sarcastically in his head. Henry nods cordially at him as he passes, following behind Eddie as he enters. “Henry, my boy!” A deep voice booms, naturally demanding Eddie's attention.

“Good morning, Professor Shaw. How are you? I have our new arrivals here.” The blue eyed boy turned to gesture to the new students, all of whom were staring at the horns atop the older man’s head. Man, this guy looks something straight out of DND. His deep skin tone complimented his golden irises. He stood quite a few inches over everyone else and was obviously built sturdy underneath his neutral toned, professional attire. 

“I see! Hello, young man.” The older man directs at the little boy. “M'lady.” He nods to the teen girl nicely. He then turns to Eddie. “Mr. Edward Munson. I presume?” Eddie's brows raise, shocked to hear his name come off the older man's tongue. Great, I'm already known here by name.

“Eddie, sir.” He corrects. The man raises his brows slightly and gives a frown of approval, nodding his head.

“Eddie it is. Pleasure to meet you. Pleasure to meet you all.” His attention is brought back to the other two. “I'm Professor Gardnal Shaw. I primarily work here in the admissions office, but I am also the teacher for Intro to More class, a course you all will undoubtedly be attending.” He smiles proudly. He lifts a hand towards the right side of the huge office. “If you would please, follow me.” He leads the way to a portion sectioned off behind a heavy velvet curtain, Henry second in line. The teenage girl was next then the little boy after her. Eddie towered over the both of them from behind. His eyes are forward, but he catches the young boy in front of him timidly glancing back at him. Eddie offers a ghost of a smile, not wanting to make the kid any more nervous or uncomfortable around him. The boy's eyes widen when Eddie's eyes catch his gaze. An awkward smile sneaks onto his adorable face as he quickly turns to face forward. Eddie holds in a laugh, curiosity overtaking him. Wonder what this kid got himself into.

As the group passes the threshold of the curtain, they are met with an older, glasses wearing woman. She looks like the nicest middle aged lady you’ll ever encounter the way her face lights up at the sight of new students. “Students, this is our lovely seamstress, Ms. Glenda. She will be assisting you with your uniforms.” Mr. Shaw announces with his hands clasped together in front of him.

“New arrivals!” She exclaimed excitedly.

“Good Morning, Ms. Glenda.” Henry adds. She turns to him with a kind grin, her eyes crinkling at their corners.

“Well, good morning to you, Henry. Very dashing, as always.” She compliments, motherly. The young man blushes, his bitten back smile extenuating his cheekbones. She turns her attention back to the new faces before he can come back with anything. “Now, who do we have here!” She adjusts her little, wire rimmed glasses and squints at the three. “A stunning young lady, an adorable little man, and quite a handsome young fellow, hmm.” The three all have their respective bashful, avoiding glances. “You,” All three lift their heads, but find her attention on Eddie specifically. Eddie's heart picks up slightly, nervous of what she may say next. “You, young man, are a bit older than the normal new arrivals I'm used to seeing.” She lifts her chin to look down the tip of her nose through her falling glasses. Eddie's brows furrowed in confusion as his eyes flit from one face to another, awkwardly glancing at each person in the room. Before he can open his mouth to say anything, Mr. Shaw buts in to take over.

“Sir Eddie here is the first of many to come. Our academy is expanding the age range of our admissions to include those who may have found changes later in life.” The man eloquently clarifies, giving Eddie a comforting grin. Great, ‘first of many’. Even amongst ‘outcasts’, I'm still an outcast.

“Ah, I see. Well, that's wonderful news.” The older lady says, voice full of warmth and welcome. She grins softly. “Well, let's get you all fitted! You've got a lot more to do today!” She smiles widely before pulling each new student in one by one to get them situated with uniforms.

The next two hours were spent in the office, getting uniforms, schedules, and supplies. Following the admin office, Henry guided them around campus, giving them a tour of the common yard, the libraries, showing them different wings for the different studies offered before finally leading them to the massive cafeteria.

The café had two levels. The main floor held a buffet spread of rotating foods, vending machines, and several rows of tables. The second floor was a balcony that had additional seating overlooking the main floor. On the far side of the cafeteria was floor to ceiling windows, presenting a mystical view of the Vermont countryside. “Alright, I think this is a perfect time as any to take a break and get some lunch.” Henry announced, looking down at his watch to see the time as 12:45 PM. “Take an hour to relax and eat. I'll be back to collect you three around 1:45, so we can head to the dorms for you all to get settled in. For now, help yourselves to whatever you’d like.” The uniformed guide clasps his hands together, gives them a nod, and walks away.

The two kids glance at each other then at Eddie. The teenage girl walks off first. The little boy glances back to Eddie after watching the girl walk away. He looks like he wants to say something, which Eddie raises a brow to, but ultimately, he scurries away.

Eddie sighs and follows suit, assembling himself a plate of food that appears too appetizing to be a school lunch. He spots an empty seat next to the massive windows on the main floor. He’s one of the only few not wearing a uniform, so on top of his obvious age difference, his attire makes him stand out like a sore thumb. This causes him to catch a couple curious glances from some passing students, nothing he isn’t already used to.

As he walks to the empty table, he gets a pretty decent idea of different cliques. Even in this world, high schoolers aren't too different. On top of grouping up by sport or ‘status’, one of the obvious differences is that some are separated by species.

Eddie had to use everything in him not to stare at some of the more obvious ones, some with unnaturally colored skin tones, some with horns, others with tusks for canines. It was incredible to see in person something he’d only ever imagined or seen in movies and books. Man, what the guys would say about this. He shakes his head, looking down with a small chuckle. He successfully makes it to the targeted seat without issue. He drops his bag to the floor beneath him and starts eating, “Mmmm.” Holy shit. The food here is just as good as it looks. He hums to himself. After that first bite, suddenly all the hunger his emotions were hiding came to the surface. His stomach growled, begging for more. He scarfs down half his plate before something out the corner of his eye catches his attention.

Outside, several feet down in somewhat of a courtyard he’d had yet to tour, there was a group of students. Are those real? The thing that caught his eyes was the glimmering of metal. The afternoon sun reflecting off steel weapons and shields. Eddie drops his hands to the table to watch the commotion going on outside. There were stairs that led off the slide of the cliff that held the main school building. There were two students walking down them with trays of food. On their uniform jackets were added emblems that took up most of the space on their back panels. It was difficult to get a clear view of the royal purple embroidery from this far, but from what Eddie could tell, it looked like a sword with wings where the cross guard should be.

Eddie’s brows draw closer together as he squints to try and get a better look at the group below. All of the ones sparring had taken their jackets off. The others that were seated and eating were too small for Eddie to see their jackets any clearer, but he does notice one person in particular. 

Atop a boulder on the edge of the courtyard stood an observer dressed in the same purple and black striped uniform jacket and black pants. This observer had a golden sash hanging across their torso, fastened together at the hip, something only seen on royal families. They seemed to be yelling out orders or instructions ever so often. Standing next to the boulder was another onlooker.

This person had short brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and a hard gaze. Their white button down shirt was tucked into their black uniform pants. Even from this distance, Eddie could see the white long sleeves were struggling to contain their crossed, muscular arms. Jesus, who are these people? Eddie looks down in shock. Eddie’s eyes are back on the golden sash student as they hop down from their high point to go up to the two sparrers.

Taking one of the swords as they talk, they ready themselves for what seems to be a demonstration. Eddie watches as they start swinging the sword around, immediately catching the attention of all the other students around. They can be seen talking as they move so fiercely. Each swing of the sword is incredibly controlled and impactful. The fight is intense, yet the observer is basically floating, light on their feet, still talking. Everything done was talked through and masterfully executed. You definitely had to be their leader.

Without much difficulty, you were able to disarm your opponent, turning to the one you assumed the place of with a nod, handing them back their sword. Some of the students watching even clapped. Eddie looked on in disbelief at the scene that just unfolded. Wow. He looks down at his half empty plate. Those look like real heroes.

The rest of his lunch was spent taking bites of his food as he looked out the window, utterly intrigued. A cough of someone clearing their throat brings Eddie out of his trance. He whips his head around to see Henry the Guide looking down at him. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time I take you to your dorm for you to become acquainted with your new roommate.” He says with a small, kind, and a little awkward smile. Eddie raises his brow and nods.

“Whatever you say,” Eddie stands, bringing his backpack up with him. He stands an inch or so above Henry. He cocks his head to the side and gives him a sarcastic grin. “Dashing young fellow.” Eddie says, mimicking Henry's English accent. Henry’s small smile drops a bit. He sighs, a small glare squinting his eyes.

“We’ll be waiting for you over by the doors.” He turns and strides away. Eddie huffs out a puff of air. He picks up the remnants of his lunch and drops it off at a trash can on his way to where Henry and the other two new kids stand. “Alright, now that we’re all here.” He smiles sarcastically at Eddie before turning to the other two with a more genuine smile. “Let’s head to the dorms.”

Henry leads the three to the different student housing areas. They dropped off the teenage girl to her building, Henry handing her off to that building’s dorm manager. Next was the young boy Eddie would come to know as Anthony. He was dropped off at his door as he, Eddie, and Henry all stayed in the same building. Once he disappeared behind the door with his new roommate, Henry and Eddie were left alone. “Come on.” Henry says, walking away without sparing another glance at Eddie. Eddie’s lip turns up in a grimace.

“Hey, man. Careful with the attitude.” He bites back, catching up with Henry. He scoffs.

“Me? You’re the one with an attitude, young fellow.” Henry gives Eddie a hard look. Eddie is stubborn with his defiance.

“Whatever, man.” Eddie scoffs and looks away.

“Listen, I understand if you are not necessarily happy to be here, but you don’t need to be rude.” Eddie’s brows raise in disbelief.

“I’m not being rude, and don’t act like you know anything about me. You’re the one who gave me a weird look the second I get here.” Eddie shoots back. Henry sighs.

“Like Shaw said, we don’t usually get new students over the age of 16, so I was just a bit caught off guard. I admit it may have not been very welcoming, but I don’t think that should get me on your bad side before we’ve even gotten to know each other.” Henry goes on.

Eddie glances over at the guide through his peripheral. They enter the empty elevator, heading up. Henry stares forward with his jaw clenched, obviously annoyed that he has to be in an enclosed space with Eddie. There’s a few seconds of silence after the doors close before Eddie sighs.

“Look, man.” Eddie starts. “I’m sorry. These past few months have really turned my world… upside down.” Eddie frowns with a thousand yard stare. Henry spares Eddie a glance over his shoulder. Eddie rolls his shoulders back, bringing himself back to reality. “I’m used to being Eddie ‘The Freak’. Ironically, even here I’m a freak among ‘freaks’.” The way Henry doesn’t even bat an eye at being called a freak is a bit strange for Eddie. “I guess, I just came in swingin’, preemptively judging you too early.” Eddie tilts his head. “You kind of remind me of this one guy, ‘The King’ of Hawkins. He was a pretty big asshole to ‘freaks’." Henry nods understandingly. “But, what do you know, he turned out alright when I met him again later.” Eddie sighs, “Sorry.”

“You know, you should realize something,” Eddie looks up, eyes on the back of Henry’s head as he stares forward. “Nevermore is a school just like every other, but most people here are coming from a place in your shoes. Sometimes people here forget, but outside these walls, beyond that gate, we’re all just freaks, monsters,... evil to the rest of the world.” Henry looks down the bridge of his proud nose with a familiar distant stare. The elevator doors open and Henry walks out without missing a beat.

They pass a few doors before Henry speaks up again. “I am your ‘mentor’,” He halts in front of a door, turning to Eddie, “I am not your enemy.” He looks Eddie in the eyes with determination, trying to get through to him. “You should know, even if we are not meant to be ‘friends’, I am still an ally. If you need help with anything, you can reach out to me.” Eddie holds Henry’s gaze, unsure of what to say next. He’s never gotten an actual warm welcome before. Henry’s lips form a thin line as he gives Eddie a tight smile before nodding once. He lifts a hand to knock on the door they are outside of.

There's stumbling and a commotion on the other side of the door. Eddie’s brows crease in suspicion at the noises, but Henry just sighs and rolls his eyes. The door swings open revealing a young, dark skinned boy with wide, shocked eyes. He was huffing like he just ran a marathon, undoubtedly from stumbling over stuff in the room to get to the door. “Junior.” Henry says in a warning tone through gritted teeth and an annoyed smile. Junior avoids Henry’s eyes by awkwardly staring at anything on the floor.

Eddie glances between Henry and the kid, Junior. Henry turns to Eddie, “Eddie, meet Junior,” He turns to gesture to the kid. “Your new roommate.” Henry raises a threatening brow at Junior. “Junior, meet Eddie.”

“H-Hi,” The kid’s voice cracks awkwardly, “Come- Come on in.” Junior turns to walk away from the door, going further into the room. Eddie glances one last time at Henry. Henry looks over to Eddie with a sigh and raises his brows.

“Good luck.” He mutters as he walks away. Before Eddie can follow up with Henry’s concerning final words, Junior starts rambling.

“Here, over here is your bed, obviously as it’s the empty one, and over here is mine, obviously. Um, I moved some things around, but you’re more than welcome to move anything around how you’d like, I mean, as long as, you know, you leave my side of things alone, unless you want this side, we- we can figure something out that works for both of us. Over there,” he turns to point at a door next to the one Eddie just entered through. “That- That’s the bathroom. It’s pretty nice, we have a tub, shower, sink, toilet, everything needed, and, uh,” Junior keeps rambling as Eddie slowly walks through the space.

It’s shockingly spacious. Once he passes the entryway, the place expands into a large, square room. This is nothing Eddie expected for a dorm. The full-sized beds are on opposite sides of the room with enough respective furniture for two people. Each side has its own bed, dresser, desk with a lamp and chair. Junior has a foldable, wooden divider next to his bed, blocking his bed from Eddie’s. On either side of the room were two archways leading into an extra individual area. Without being too nosy, Eddie could see that Junior’s side has a plant and a bookshelf. His side seemed a bit barren.

Eddie back glances at Junior’s side, finding it an odd mixture of neat and messy. The younger’s clothes were filling a dirty laundry hamper to the brim, but there was not a trace of anything on his floor. His mirror was squeaky clean, but his dresser had different, mismatched knickknacks littered over the top. His desk had papers spewed all over with multiple open books, but the chair was tucked in and pens, markers, and pencils were organized by color and size in a storage container. His bed wasn’t made, but he had shiny shoes neatly lined under the bed frame.

The rambling kid himself was set up in a similar fashion, his appearance is pristine, his white shirt tucked into ironed pants, shoes shined, necktie tightened and perfectly aligned, but man, the kid would not take a breath. “It’s nice to meet you.” Eddie interrupts whatever he was on about. Junior comes to a complete stop, turning to Eddie with raised brows.

“Sorry, I forgot my manners.” He shoots out a hand with his chin lifted high, back straight as a board in perfect posture. “Junior Shaw. It’s a pleasure to meet you, mister.” Eddie slowly reaches out to shake Junior’s hand. He raises a brow with a small smile.

“Shaw?” They shake hands for a bit too long due to Junior not knowing when to let go.

“Yeah… He’s my dad.” Junior tilts his chin down to hide his face. This is the first time Eddie notices the small horns growing atop his head, just barely peeking out in his thick dark hair. Eddie nods as his smile grows. “Oh.” Junior drops his hand. “Sorry.” The awkwardness of the kid makes Eddie’s heart swell. It’s oddly comforting. “Uh…” Junior trails, seemingly trying to fill the silence but not knowing what to say.

Eddie walks off, heading over to his side of the room. His eyes immediately land on the bed, seeing his new uniforms and his old suitcase. That was fast. He runs his fingers gently across the striped fabric. “Oh!” Junior says abruptly, grabbing Eddie’s attention. He turns to see Junior running to his dresser, picking something up, and turning to rush up to give it to Eddie. “Here.” He hands Eddie a small welcoming gift. It was a gift basket with some pens, pencils, notebooks, and other miscellaneous school supplies. On top of it all was a purple card with gold writing on it. ‘Welcome, Edward!’ it read, causing Eddie to bite back a small smile. “I know,” He raises a brow looking up from the basket to Junior. “It’s kind of cheesy, but my dad said giving you a welcome gift would make you feel more… welcome… yeah.” He says. Eddie gives him a kind smile.

“Thanks, kid.”

“Welcome.” He says before walking away to go to his desk and sit in the wooden chair. Eddie takes a seat on his bed, next to his uniforms, and places the welcome gift beside him on top of the neatly folded clothes. “So, uh…” Junior starts, “You’re kind of old…er… older. Older than the usual new students.” Eddie chuckles and nods.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just curious, is all. Sorry.”

“No worries. I’ve been getting it all day.” He tilts his head. “You know I’m not old. I’m only 19, going to be 20 this year.” Junior nods without looking up at him, instead focusing his eyes on the papers on his desk.

“That’s cool. My dad told me we’re taking in more students, probably opening up a new department or something like that. So, how’d you end up here?” Junior asks absentmindedly. The question takes Eddie off guard a little. What is he supposed to say? He turned into a monster and attacked his uncle after dying in battle in an alternate dimension. Would that make sense even here? Junior takes Eddie’s elongated silence as a sign. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You don’t have to tell. Told you, I’m just curious, probably too much for my own good.”

“I… acquired some new… powers?” Eddie thinks of how to word an explanation without going too in depth. “So, I got sent here to try and help… control them.”

“Oh, an Acquirer. That makes sense.” Eddie tilts his head in intrigue at the new title, but before Eddie can ask for clarification, Junior bombards him with some questions. “Have you looked at any of your classes yet, seen any clubs, you know, if you’re into that? Were you in any clubs or sports back when you were in your old school?”

“No,” he chuckles, “No sports. I’m not a sports guy.” Junior nods. “But I did have a club I was leading, called Hellfire.” Junior turns in his chair to look at Eddie with a curious look.

“Hellfire? What was it about?” Eddie’s eyes light up a bit, now that’s a question he loved to answer.

“Well, it was a mystical gathering of the most daring and creative minds.” Eddie began with a smirk and squinted eyes, enjoying the familiar innocent curiosity on the young boy’s face. “Creatures of all kinds, from all over would gather to travel together and fight great battles, solve fantastical mysteries, and establish their title as heroes.” Eddie says in a theatrical tone, drawing Junior’s interest. Eddie chuckles, shaking his head and looking down. “It was a club where I would host DND campaigns after school.” He smiled, reminiscing. Junior raises his brows and nods.

“Oh, I’ve heard about DND! Sounds a lot like Slayers, just minus the tabletop portion.” Eddie lifts his head to the smiling boy.

“Slayers, huh?’ Junior nods.

“Yeah, Dungeon Slayers Club, officially, but we just call it Slayers for short. It was kind of inspired by DND, but you know, we’re the actual ‘creatures’.” Junior explains. “It takes all the fun of DND and brings it into real life. We really train and fight and go on quests and everything. It’s really fun.” He beams.

“Is that the club with the emblems on their backs, the group of students out in that courtyard during lunch?” Junior’s brows raise.

“Yeah. I wasn’t there during lunch today. Usually, the lunch gatherings are just us hanging out during our break. The real club takes place after school.” Junior says matter-of-factly. “First official meetup of the season is tomorrow.” Eddie nods.

“Think I can come and check it out?” Junior's brows raise again, and his eyes go wide.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I mean, we’re always welcoming to new people, at least they were with me. I was the last person who joined, but, uh we’re not really the most popular group.” He rambles. “Slayers doesn’t really have the best reputation. It’s kind of…infamous? Most of the other students see us as a paranoid bunch of…well, losers, like end of the world preppers or stuck in the past people or whatever. I don’t know if you’d want to start yourself out by associating yourself with us. You- You may want to check out something else like the fencing team or- or something” He says bouncing his gaze around in one of his awkward antics.

“No,” Eddie stops him, “I want to check it out.” He says firmly. Junior, though a bit shocked, becomes excited.

“Oh Okay, well, tomorrow then, I can bring you with me to the club during lunch so you can meet some of the members and maybe we can get you to talk to the leader. They’re awesome.” Junior begins with a glint in his eye. “They’ve been heading Slayers for, like, the last four years, been in the club for even longer. They’re so cool, really.” He says seriously, nodding his head. “If the world ever did come to an end. They’re definitely someone you’d want on your side. They’re, like, really amazing. They can out fight and out smart anybody, I swear.” He nods in approval. Eddie smiles. I wonder if this is how they talk about me. I hope so. Junior turns back to the homework on his desk, “They’re a great leader. You’d like them, 100%.” He nods again.

Eddie and Junior sit in a comfortable silence, the loudest noise coming from Junior’s pencil against paper. Eddie stands after a minute or two and begins unpacking his things, organizing his half how he wants. “Do you usually study in silence, or is it just cause I’m here?” Eddie asks as he closes his last drawer and turns to look at the back of Junior.

“No, I usually work this way. Sorry if that’s weird, but- but don’t worry about me. If you want to play music or watch something, don’t worry about me.” He lifts a hand to wave dismissively. Eddie nods and walks away from the dresser.

“You know, I think I’m going to do a little exploring.” Eddie announces as he heads to the door. Junior lifts his head.

“Oh, do you want me to come with? I could help show you around.” He offers, but Eddie shakes his head with a wave of his hand.

“No, just continue with your work. I’ll be fine. I’m just gonna wonder and get familiar.” Eddie says with a small smile. “Be back later, kid.” He turns to leave without another word.

As soon as Eddie is outside of the dorm building, he decides to just pick a direction and start walking. He walks around the campus, again getting some looks from passing students as he’s the only one out of uniform. He leisurely wanders around, eventually stopping in an outdoor hallway that surrounds a small courtyard in the middle of one of the buildings. As he stands there, he stares at a familiar stranger’s face.

You were sitting at the end of a wooden bench at one of the picnic tables. In front of you, sat on top of the table was a boy with ivory skin and brown, fluffy, curly hair. He was slim but obviously muscular and had a killer smile that you couldn't help but return. Sat beside you was the same onlooker he saw earlier, the one who stood beside the boulder at lunch.

She seemed a bit more relaxed and was leaning on her elbows that were rested on the table in front of her. Her brown waves were loose from their little ponytail and now let down, cropped at her shoulders. She was also looking up at the boy who was talking, quite animated, about something Eddie couldn't quite hear.

Though you didn't know of his existence and he had never spoken a word to you, Eddie couldn’t help but admire your smile. It was easy to get distracted by you. Aside from being a total warrior badass, you were simply gorgeous. The shine in your eyes, the way the world around you brightens with your smile, the curves of your nose, the creases of your face as it contorts with laughter. This is the leader of the ‘infamous' ‘loser’ club? It was confusing. Eddie couldn't comprehend how anyone could not like whatever had your stamp of approval. You and your personality screamed positively infectious and contagious. It was plain to see. Even from a distance, Junior’s fanboying over you made total sense.

Eddie stood in the shadows of the hall just watching you and your interactions with your friends. He couldn't help but feel a bit envious. Abruptly he winces, flinching at the all too familiar feeling in his brain.

The sharp migraines he'd gotten ever since waking up in that place have started to dull, feeling more akin to an unreachable itch or a fuzzy static. He didn't know if the pain was weaker or if he was just building a tolerance. Eddie sighs, opening his eyes to see you and your friends standing and collecting your things. Before any of you can notice his presence, he takes his leave, disappearing out of the courtyard corridors and closing in on a new found back exit off campus.

Eddie walks along the road that leads up to the campus before he makes his way into the wooded area that lines the pavement. Once he feels he's gone far enough, the buzzing itch returns. He groans, annoyed at the feeling.

He knows he's alone out here, but he can't help himself from looking around him to see if anyone is watching. Once he decides the coast is clear, he kneels down, closes his eyes, and takes a few deep breaths, slowing his heart rate. He reaches a hand out and rests it on the massive trunk of the fallen tree he'd stopped in front of. He takes deep breaths during the entire exchange, feeling the wood beneath his fingers shift.

The feeling of a numb rush floods his veins as the headache dissipates. He knows that means he's done right. He opens his eyes, seeing the newly opened glowing gate. Again, he looks around him before looking back at the portal. Every time he opens a new door between worlds, that area in the back of his brain tells him he's done something right, but his heart still makes him feel like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar, constantly scared he's going to get caught doing something he's not supposed to.

One of these new found powers of his was the ability to open passages from this world to the other. At first, it felt wrong. There were so many bad memories there, but he'd always felt compelled to open these doors. Now, it's more so akin to a guilty pleasure, something he knows he shouldn't enjoy, but he can't resist. It calls to him. Plus if Vecna is dead, what is so wrong about it?

Evermore Tag List (OPEN):

@ali-r3n  @mother-oshun @madelynraemunson  @starmilks @ohmeg

Swisslist (General Tag List):

@rosecentury @solacedthistest

[thecheesesposts]

Part 3

A thousand feet was just the beginning.

You couldn't hear anything the generals were saying over the roar of the helicopter blades. Not that you cared. As long as you and your girlfriend kept doing "the work" the military would keep supplying everything you needed, and she needed a lot these days. Looking out the open door of the chopper you were struck by how normal she almost looked. The high altitude wind blew her hair and she swept it behind one ear with a coy smile as she eyed you incoming. With the massive leaves of the jungle tree at her back she looked like she could almost be normal sized, but that was just a trick of perspective. You knew each of those palm leaves stretched out a hundred feet from a trunk wider than a skyscraper. That tree had given the active agents which made the drugs to fuel her exponetial growth. When the two of you arrived you'd marveled at the size of it, even to her it had seemed big. Not anymore. Nothing seemed big to her anymore. The "low bushes" around her were all old growth jungle trees that easily topped ten or fifteen stories. Her sundress was made of thousands of yards of fabric with designs whose size were meant to be on billboard displays. On her the images looked like little design details, even though each was larger than the helicpter you were in now. All her clothes were simple, since they had to be remade almost daily, but she made them all look stunning. Her curves could have made a burlap sack look like a dress meant for the red carpet. That had been true when she was only five and a half feet tall. It was still true, just on a much, much grander scale.

It had been weeks since she was anything approaching "normal" height. Even now you knew she was sitting, hardly half as tall as she could be. If she stood the whole canopy of this immense ancient forest would hardly reach her shins.

You loved to see it. The sheer immensity of her perfect form. If she stood the helicopter would have trouble reaching her face to relay today's message. Your pants tightened at that thought. The idea that even this machine would soon be unable to reach a height she was at casually standing was incredibly arousing.

The soft smile on her building sized lips was also arousing. Despite her size she was still the same woman you had loved for years. Her growth had changed her in some ways. She was more confident, and rightfully felt more powerful, but at the core she was the same funny and charming person you used to sit next to on a couch and play Minecraft with. God that seemed like eons ago, but really it had only been a little over a month. The drugs the military gave her had really accelerated her growth. So much so that city living was impossible. Hence your new home in this jungle outpost.

"WELL BOYS, WHATS THE NEWS? DO WE HAVE A GOAL FOR THE DAY?" She spoke at a normal volume but ever since she'd surpassed a thousand feet her voice became a rumble that you could feel in your bones. Somehow it still retianed it's soft feminity, like turning the volume all the way up on a classical song and putting your ear to the speaker. Louder but still the same notes.

In response the helicopters loud speaker said "Yes mam. We've recived some disturbing intel from the home office. Satellite photos show that a Russian woman has been gaining hundreds of feet daily. She's still smaller than you but not for long."

She shook her city block sized face and stuck out her lip in a pout "WELL WE CANT HAVE THAT CAN WE? HUNDREDS OF FEET A DAY YOU SAY? HOWS THAT POSSIBLE? OUR BEST DAY WAS A HUNDRED FEET." she winked at you as she said it. That had been your best day. Your mind traveled back, hearing moans that shook the trees as you rode a nipple the size of a sedan like a cowboy riding a bull. The jiggling and swaying of her tits as her hips rose and fell making your whole world wobble like an ocean. Looking one way seeing the hundreds of feet of landscape that was her stomach and thighs, her hand working between them, looking the other and seeing her lust driven face bigger than a building watching you with rapt sexual interest.

The helicopters loud speaker pulled you from your memory. "We think we know. They've discovered a way to distillate the drug we synthesized. The process is rather simple and rudimentary. We had known of the possibility but didn't think it was necessary until now."

You liked were this was going... and, as she bit her lip and a massive hand traced her flushing chest, you knew she did too.

"BUT YOU THINK IT MAY BE NECESSARY NOW HUH? DO WE NEED TO ACCELERATE MY PROGRESS?"

"Yes mam, if you and..." the man on the speaker glanced back at me in the hot seat. A look of glee painted on my face "your partner would be ameable. We actually think we can one up those soviet bastards. This new dose should let you double, maybe even triple in height, regardless of your current stature. This could win us the growth standoff. Make you so big no nation would see the point in trying to beat us anymore."

"OH..." she got a dreamy expression and your mind reeled at the thought of her three thousand feet tall by sundown. You remembered when she'd said the generals hoped for miles and felt that time was now approaching. Then something else struck you. The man had just said she could triple in size regardless of her current size. If she would be three thousand feet by end of today, did that mean tomorrow she'd be six? 12 the next? You thought you might be drooling, you imagined her clevage alone thousands of feet deep. Looking up at her as she dangled her breasts over a city scape, even skyscrapers nothing in the shadow of just her nipples. Then you imagined her growing three times that size... "fuck yes..." you whispered

"FUCK YES! I LOVE IT, HIT ME WITH IT. LETS SHOW THE WORLD WHAT WE CAN DO. I CANT WAIT TO HEAR HOW THE WORLD REACTS WHEN THEY SEE ME TEN TIMES AS BIG AS THIS!" She said with exciment. "... FOR THE COUNTRY OF COURSE, SIRS." she made an awkward salute, a wry smile on her face. Neither of you gave two shits about the country, but growing, you both loved that.

"That's the goal mam. Well the stage one goal at least... don't you worry about that now. We're burning daylight chatting. What's say we get started. Where would you like the package dropped off?" The general said as he pointed a thumb back at me.

"HMMM WELL I THINK WE ALL KNOW WHERE HED LIKE TO LAND, AND THE RUNWAYS JUST KEEP GROWING DONT THEY?" She said as she squeezed her gargantuan boob's together. You flushed with excitement. Ready to spend an entire day doing what you could to help please this goddess.

"As you say mam" said the general. "Take us close and let the mad lad jump." He turned in his seat to look at you "you ready son?"

"General, this is truly my calling. I'm ready."

We both looked out the front of the chopper. It closed in on her and now that we were closer the whole horizon was her bust and neck. Hundreds of feet of smooth brown skin in all directions. A playground to lose yourself in while she pleasured herself. And by the end of today there would be three times as much. You unbuckled your seat belt stood from your chair and leapt. You were ten or twenty feet up but it was like landing on warm pillows. The heat and scent of her overwhelmed you and as the chopper flew away you looked up to see her face like the sky. Curls of her black hair framing that perfection with its knee weakening sexy look.

"SHOULD WE GET STARTED BABY?" her voice boomed.

You nodded vigorously. It was going to be another amazing day.

[constantlyfalling]

🌕🍃✨🍄🪄📖🕯️

[sunmoontruth-stiles]

I need a completely rewritten teen wolf series with Derek Hale as the main character. I think it would heal me.

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

I love learning ASL it’s so good. Makes me happy to learn it. I’m so glad my university has classes for it with professors actually steeped in Deaf culture.

[junebugtwin]

Sometimes I think back to the first time I read Worm, and man...why the fuck did I read that whole thing- the ENTIRE WEB NOVEL- while only listening to one song????

[imissjensi]

trying to determine whether to create a whole new dnd system to replace spells for a keeper dnd campaign or just to keep spells because on one hand spells are complicated and creating ability based skill trees is really tempting but on the other hand it’s so much work but i’ll probs do it anyways just for fun.

[alliepsmithh]

israel posted a video of them giving water bottles to palestinians on a beach, then destroyed their luggage and shot at them after they stopped recording.

israel posted a photo of one of their soldiers "assisting" with an elderly man, then they shot him twice in the back and killed him.

in 2015, the idf posted pr photos of an israeli soldier giving water to an elderly palestinian woman, only for them to execute her after the photo was taken.

in 2005, an idf soldier emptied his rifle into a 13-year-old palestinian schoolgirl. he said he would have done the same thing if she was 3-years-old. he was acquitted of all charged.

israel claimed that hamas beheaded 40 israeli babies and then a month later cut off power to a palestinian hospital where premature babies were on incubators.

israel bombed a group of children collecting rainwater.

israel shot and killed two palestinian children playing with their scooter.

israel shot a hard of hearing girl in the face with a stun grenade and broke her jaw.

israel is using bombs with blades that are designed to cause maximum damage to the person in range.

israel forced medical workers at al-Nasr medical center to leave babies in incubators in order to evacuate the hospital they were bombing.

israel turned off power to hospitals in palestine, forcing nurses and doctors to use their phone flashlights when treating patients.

israel raised their flag over Al Shifa hospital.

israel has blown up the chambers of the palestinian legislative council.

israel targeted a "suspicious vehicle containing several terrorists”, meanwhile the only people in the car were three girls, ages 10, 12, and 14, their grandmother, and their mother. the only survivor was the three girls' mother.

israel planted a copy of mein kampf in a children's bedroom in a gazan house they claim hamas was hiding in.

israel poured fake blood onto the floor of an israeli child's bedroom and claimed hamas killed them.

israeli soldiers posted a video of them dancing on gazan graves.

israel posted a video showing a calendar in a palestinian children's hospital was a hamas guard list because it was written in arabic.

israel was using white phosphorus on hospitals.

israel bombed a refugee camp.

israel has burned olive trees in palestine.

israel has put cement into the water supply of palestine.

israel claimed that they found tunnels under Al Shifa hospital, only for it to be exposed that those tunnels are actually in sweden.

israel built a bunker and command room under Al Shifa hospital in 1983, only for them to now say that they are hamas tunnels.

israeli police arrested an israeli high school teacher, who posted on facebook expressing sympathy with palestinian civilians who have been killed.

israeli soldiers filmed themselves throwing a stun grenade into a palestinian mosque.

we are witnessing a genocide in real time framed under the guise of stopping hamas. israel has been terrorizing palestine for as long as israel has existed, but their access to technology and social media has made it much easier to fool people into supporting them.

meanwhile, noah schnapp is posting that zionism is sexy and celebrities are standing with israel. just absolutely twisted shit.

edit: for those who would like sources, my twitter is alliiesmith. i have retweeted everything i’ve mentioned. i apologize for not providing this sooner

edit 2: i’ve had some people in the replies and reposts pointing out that linking my twitter seems like promotion. i just wanted to clear up that that was not my intention. i’ve been retweeting resources and news much faster than i’m able to add to this post, and i thought that my twitter profile could be something of a hub for information. i don’t care if you follow me, but i think scrolling through and seeing what i’ve retweeted could be helpful.

[andypantsx3]

𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother, steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 5.7k | chapter 1 of 4

Then

It was a freezing day in spring the first time you set foot in the Todoroki house.

You had shared a class with Touya for years now, and in that time you’d become something of his best friend. You’d bonded early over a mutual hatred of fish and your status as the two best tree climbers on the playground—two integral friendship quality bars if ever you’d met them—and your entente had strengthened over the following months.

After enough time together Touya had even seemed to like you, seeking out your opinion, deploying you like a shield between himself and the other kids. He wanted to be paired with you for group projects constantly, as he seemed to disdain the ability of the other kids in your class.

He eventually acquiesced to two other friends—Rumi and Keigo—as Keigo was a really fast runner, and Rumi could kick a kid almost clear across a playground. But the two of you remained particularly close, and a few years in, Touya had seemed to want to check the final box of your friendship.

That was the day he’d haughtily informed you that you were coming home with him.

You’d phoned your mother from the school office to obtain permission, and then pulled your jacket on to follow Touya out into the cold, his skinny legs beating a quick path through the streets.

You’d half-expected that Touya lived in a box behind a shop, with the way he descended ravenously on his lunches (as well as yours, and Rumi’s, when he could occasionally get them—though notably not Keigo’s, something that had only retroactively made sense to you as an adult). But the house Touya steered you to was enormous—easily the biggest house you’d ever seen—a stately pile at the end of a fancy neighborhood.

You’d later learn this was because his father was the mayor, and the Todorokis were neck-deep in generational wealth. At the time you’d been mildly annoyed, because what had you let him eat part of your lunches for if he lived in a house like this?

“I’m home,” Touya had called into the echoey foyer, grand but strangely barren. He’d kicked off his coat and shoes, discarding them carelessly—perhaps purposefully—on the floor, then gestured for you to follow him into the kitchen as a warm voice called out to him. “Welcome home, Touya.”

“I brought Y/N,” he announced grandly as he prowled into the room. To you he said, “This is my mother, Rei.”

The voice you’d heard resolved itself into a woman, tall, with beautiful long white hair and a small, but unmistakably fond smile on her mouth. You startled, immediately floored by her beauty. She looked just like Touya, the same delicate prettiness to her mouth, the shape of her eyes—but even lovelier. She looked simultaneously like she belonged on the cover of a magazine, and would be embarrassed by one saying so.

She also smelled like an omega—sweet, but a little wilder than you were used to. Like spring flowers blooming on a cold day.

“Hello Y/N,” she said warmly, turning to you. You gave a shy wave back, suddenly nervous in front of her.

As she turned you finally noticed the child on her hip—a small, round, pudgy little thing with half red and half white hair, and two mismatched grey and blue eyes that pinned on you immediately. It was wearing a horrendous polkadot onesie, and you felt your eyebrows raise without your permission.

“That’s Shouto,” Touya informed you, and the pieces slotted together in your brain. Ah, so that was the face to the name.

Shouto was the little brother Touya complained about incessantly—the one that was his father’s favorite, the one that stared too much and wanted to play with all of Touya’s toys even though he was too little for them, the one Touya was saddled with babysitting constantly. He’d made Shouto out to be this sort of tiny harbinger of evil—but Shouto did not look very evil, perched there on his mother’s hip.

He blinked at you, a flutter of surprisingly long eyelashes, for a baby. You had the thought that actually he was kind of cute. Most probably not a harbinger of evil, and actually very sweet-looking, if weirdly round.

“I need to be excused from Shouto duty,” Touya said, the question posed more like a statement.

Rei shook her head, a somber little smile playing about her mouth. “I have to make dinner before Fuyumi and Natsuo get back from their playdates and your father gets home. Why don’t you take Shouto to play with you and Y/N?”

Touya rolled his eyes in the long-suffering manner of a man who’d endured it all. Shouto didn’t seem to notice, however, his mismatched gaze barely detaching from your face. You noticed Shouto’s left eye was the exact vivid blue of Touya’s, and his other eye the same silver as his mother’s.

“He’s staring like a weirdo,” Touya complained, but collected Shouto from Rei anyway. Shouto let himself be passed over as placidly as a bag of potatoes, still watching you.

“Y/N is a new face for him, he’s just curious, Touya,” Rei said, smoothing Shouto’s hair down as Touya hefted him in his arms. Shouto reached out a hand towards you, fat fingers flexing.

“What, you think I’m some taxi service who’s gonna bring you wherever you want to go?” Touya demanded. Shouto ignored him, his little chubby arm wavering.

Strangely, something compelled you to step closer, reaching out a hand in return. Shouto seized it in his pudgy little fist, staring up at you with solemn eyes. His other hand reached out to you, too, twisting in Touya’s grip, and Touya let out an annoyed scoff.

“Y/N didn’t come here to hang out with you,” he said. But Shouto ignored him, his little hand fisting in your tee shirt. He seemed to be trying to lever himself up out of Touya’s arms and into yours.

You were startled, never having held a baby before, and Shouto was kind of a big one. But Touya showed you how to hold him under his butt and across his back, and you heard the rustle of his diaper as he was handed off to you.

“Hi Shouto,” you said, watching him watch you.

His eyebrows raised, some small happiness lighting up his expression, and he gave a little kick that wiggled his whole body in your arms.

“He likes you,” Rei said over the counter top, as she settled a cutting board and a pile of vegetables across it.

You looked back at Shouto, feeling weirdly pleased. Maybe babies weren’t that bad.

Touya made an annoyed sort of grunt, stomping past you. “We’re going to play in the living room,” he announced imperiously. You glanced at Rei to make sure that was okay, then followed Touya, Shouto heavy in your arms.

By the time you arrived, Shouto had settled a hand on either of your cheeks and seemed to be trying to stare directly into your soul, and Touya patted him firmly on the back, clucking. “Stop being such a little freak.”

“He’s fine,” you said, bemused. No one had told you really little kids were this intense and weird. But Shouto’s little round face was kind of sweet, and it was hard to be annoyed at a baby staring up at you, that clearly enamored.

“Actually he’s being way nicer to me than you,” you told Touya.

Touya rolled his eyes and busied himself pulling out a horde of action figures, legos, puzzles, and games, as well as a turtle with multi-colored blocks set into it that appeared to be for Shouto.

“Oi, it’s turtle time, weirdo,” he told Shouto.

That seemed to break the baby’s singular focus on you, and he peered around, lighting up nearly the same way when he saw his blocks as he had when he’d seen you. You laughed, and helped him settle on the floor next to you, watching his clumsy, chubby grip fumble on the blocks as he carefully removed them one-by-one from the plastic turtle.

Touya set up the legos around you, an older parallel of his brother, though you thought he would kill you for saying so.

A block appeared in your lap, carefully and deliberately placed by a fat-fingered hand. You smiled down at Shouto, picking it up and gesturing grandly. “For me?”

A grey-and-blue gaze attached itself solemnly to your face, as if awaiting your judgment, and an instant fondness swept over you. Who knew babies could be this cute—when they weren’t screaming and crying and generally being small and annoying near you. Touya had massively undersold his little brother, who was the sweetest baby you’d ever encountered.

You bowed your head, clutching your gifted block close to you. “Thank you, Shouto. It’s very nice.”

Shouto stared up at you, smiling a shy little almost-smile, clearly pleased. You couldn’t help but reach up and ruffle that distinct tuft of hair, taken with him already. Yep, definitely a good little kid.

And you decided then and there that you liked Todoroki Shouto—though for now he was a child—you both were children—and he could only mean so much to you.

You wouldn’t realize how much he’d actually come to mean to you, until many, many years later.

Now

Touya’s white mess of hair was the first thing you spotted as you stumbled into the restaurant.

Outside it was unseasonably cold, an icy wind tearing through you as you’d rushed all the way from your mother’s house. The inside of the restaurant was blessedly warm, and slightly smoky from the meat and vegetables grilling away on each table top. Touya was on the far side, and you could see Rumi’s white hair beyond him, Keigo’s blonde riot of waves peeking over the top of the booth next to him.

Rumi faced the door so she spotted you first, a mouth-splitting grin overtaking her face as she waved you down.

You hurried your way over, letting out a surprised hrrk! when Rumi drew you down into a rib-crushing hug, her alpha strength barely contained. You fell into the seat at an awkward angle, your joints screaming.

“Well look what the cat dragged in! You don’t look a bit changed, you little beta cuck,” she crowed, making you choke on a laugh as you almost inhaled a mouthful of her hair.

“Rumi—!” you sputtered, half-pleased and half-scandalized that she clearly hadn’t changed in the years since you’d seen her last. She crushed you to her harder, and you could feel your eyeballs all but bulging like a rubber doll.

“If you plan to crush her to death you could at least wait until I clear the scene,” came Touya’s disaffected drawl from the other side of the table. “The last thing I need is police on my case again.”

That was so typical of him, too, after all this time.

“Good to see you too, Touya,” you said, even though you couldn’t get a look at him through Rumi’s hair. She ground her knuckles into the top of your head for good measure before releasing you, and you came up for air gratefully, watching the two men on the other side of the table grin at you.

Keigo looked exactly as you’d left him, a little bit more filled out than the skinny teen he’d been, the same wiry facial scruff growing in, those golden eyes alight with typical playfulness. Touya looked like he’d aged the most, his scars—fresher when you’d graduated—now deepened to the color of dark bruises. His features were still achingly familiar under them, however, the fine-boned prettiness of his mother shining through, his father’s blazing cerulean eyes the only nod to the other half of his parentage.

“So you really obeyed mommy dearest huh,” Touya said, pinning you with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at him. As your closest childhood friend, he still knew all your weak spots, your mother the biggest of them. Growing up she’d been lonely and overworked, and you’d tried to care for her and please her the best you could. You still called her several times a week and sent back your wages to help pay for the house, and pay down the pile of debt your father had left her in when he’d died.

The concession of returning home for a few days to attend the annual mating run, as pointless as it was going to be, was the least you could do for her.

“You know as well as I do that no one is going to run down a beta,” you said, settling yourself in next to Rumi and shedding your coat and hat. “Especially not now that I’m well past newly-presented. It’ll be like a vacation.”

“You never know,” Keigo said, raising his fluffy eyebrows at you, his grin wicked. You flung the pile of your things across the table at him, but he intercepted easily, all alpha reflex. He stuffed your jacket down next to him, laughing at you.

“I do know,” you said emphatically. “And I’m not fussed about it. I don’t know who she thinks is going to pay her bills if I’m off getting dicked down by some knothead idiot.”

Touya made a dismissive noise and you looked around the table for something to fling at him too. He’d never had to worry about money, his future shored up with the Todoroki family fortune, built over generations and then basically quadrupled by his father. Since coming out of the correctional facility for a string of petty crimes, Touya had been skating by on family generosity, and you knew he wasn’t about to stop.

“Just burn her house down like mine,” he said, an unholy grin overtaking his face as he leaned forward. There was a light behind his eyes like he wasn’t entirely kidding. No one had ever been able to determine if the Todoroki family fire had been an accident or not, although Touya claimed it had been.

But you’d known Touya your whole life and you had your suspicions. Touya had hated his father for nearly all of your living memory—and the Todoroki men had an almost disturbing single-mindedness about them. You had long wondered if Touya’s fixation on his break with Enji had ever played into the fire that ravaged their house during your middle school years.

The one exception to the Todoroki single-mindedness was sweet little Shouto, who you’d last seen at your high school graduation. He was several years younger than you and had still been round-faced and chubby-cheeked then, all wide solemn eyes and pouty little mouth, just like when he was a baby.

You hadn’t seen him since, but couldn’t imagine Shouto turning out anything like Touya.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” you said to Touya, not liking how his grin widened.

Purportedly he’d come out of the correctional facility for good behavior, his record squeaky clean.

Purportedly.

“So why even agree to the run?” Rumi asked. “If you’re not looking to actually take anyone home?”

You helped yourself to the water that had been laid out before answering. “It’s just easier to appease my mother. She gets what she wants—some indication I’m open to my life mate-–and I get what I want, which is to be able to use this as an excuse next year.”

“Aww you won’t come back to see little old us?” Keigo asked. His tone was wheedling but his eyes tracked your expression carefully, always observing.

You smiled at him. You did miss your old friends, and you liked how easy it felt to sink right back into them after so many years away. You wanted to see them outside of the confines of a group chat or the rare facetime.

And you missed a lot about the town you’d grown up in. You liked the tiny storefronts of the downtown shops and the easy access to the coast and miles of hiking trails. You’d had a dream of opening up a little bookstore in one of the lovely brick buildings downtown when you were younger—but that was back before the staggering number of dollar signs on your mother’s bills had made themselves known to you and the romance of your daydream had begun to seem more like foolishness.

The bigger cities offered the bigger jobs, the bigger wages to send home. Even if it meant you could only see your friends every few years and mostly kept in touch via group chat.

“How about you guys come to me?” you asked. “There’s a chicken place I think Keigo will want to make the trip for.”

Keigo’s grin widened and he leaned in, interested. “Say no more,” he drawled.

On the table top, Touya’s phone vibrated. He peered at it, dismissing the notification with a swipe. “Rei wants to see you,” he reported, the usual blend of disrespect and unwilling fondness for his own mother layered in his voice. “She says you should come by the house.”

You smiled, pleased to be remembered. “I’d love that. Who’s living there now?”

Touya stretched, his back brushing the booth. “I do. And she does. Enji visits sometimes—” his tone was pointedly colorless “—and Fuyumi and Natsuo come by a couple times a week. Shouto is there almost daily for dinner when he’s not on shift, because his own cooking is absolute shit.”

You blinked, struggling to reconcile the idea of sweet-faced little Shouto with an adult who lived on his own now. “On shift?” you asked.

“He’s a fireman,” Touya rolled his eyes. “Little fucking do gooder. Ever since the house fire he’s wanted to.”

Your eyelashes fluttered again, your brain floating with the images of skinny, round-faced Shouto struggling to haul people out of a burning building. You struggled not to voice this disbelief.

“Wow, good for him,” you said.

“Not for me,” Touya complained. “Ever since he’s presented he’s been eating us out of house and home. Can’t find a fucking thing in the cabinets after he’s been through—”

And that shocked you, too, the idea that Shouto was already grown enough to have presented.

Objectively you knew he had to be into his early twenties at this point, but hearing the changes life had wrought on him was almost too much to contemplate. You wondered what he had presented as, and whether he’d be subject to the run this week as well. You’d always sort of suspected he’d be an omega, with that wide-eyed, beautiful face—almost a carbon copy of his mother’s, the same delicate prettiness in it as Touya.

And he’d been so sweet, too. When you’d been much, much younger—before Touya had become too cool and too emo for it—you remembered playing house together, remembered how often you’d dragged Shouto in to play the part of your son. He’d always sat there, a chubby-faced toddler, smashing blocks together and staring up at you with big eyes as you and Touya made plastic food and Touya unrolled a days-old newspaper collected from his father, bossing you around from his armchair.

Even when Shouto had gotten older and started to get as fresh with Touya as Touya was with him, he’d always been nice to you, always watched you with those same wide, mismatched eyes.

Yeah. He was most probably an omega.

“Well I’d love to see Rei, and Natsuo and Fuyumi and Shouto,” you said.

Touya stretched in the booth, not minding Keigo and thumping him right across the chest. Keigo squawked in annoyance.

“I’ll tell Rei you’re coming for dinner,” Touya said.

You smiled, pleased. You knew what a huge deal it was for both Touya and Rei to be in the same house again—both in recovery, both sharing the same space again.

When you’d left, Rei had been hospitalized and Touya had already been knee deep in petty crimes and utterly disinterested in any sort of overtures of help. For them to both be together again, getting regular help, with Enji out of the house and a rotating string of their family members checking in on them—you were happy to see them healing.

The buoyant feeling lasted all the way through lunch and too many drinks, until Touya shepherded you out of the restaurant, blazing a familiar path towards his family home. You followed, gratified when you saw that the Todoroki house was just as you remembered it, even the rebuilt pieces nostalgic.

Its grandness had been a shock to you as a child—not only in comparison to the tiny, squashed little two bed you’d grown up in—but that Touya had grown up there, in so vast and elegant a space. Touya who you dug in the dirt with. Touya who picked bugs out of the mud and put them on you. Touya who turned his nose up at dolls and ate things right out of your lunch box without asking, like he was a starving child without any access to food.

The house said otherwise.

Touya treated the Todoroki mansion with the same pointed lack of care he had as a teenager, kicking in the door as he led you inside, throwing his things in a pile in the entry. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, fondly nostalgic over his shithead behavior.

“You missed a spot—I think there’s a bare patch of floor over there,” you said.

Touya gave you a narrow-eyed gaze over his shoulder as he uttered a string of objects you might suck.

You raised your eyebrows at him, smiling and unbothered. He’d always said it was your beta nature that left you unfussed with his various attitudes, taking everything in stride. You didn’t know if that was true—you’d always sort of suspected it was the strange, inherent connection you felt to him, and to the Todoroki family at large that kept you fond of him, even as he descended into teenage fury.

You didn’t know what it was, as you’d not ever felt it with your other friends’ families who you’d spent nearly as much time with. But if it netted you a lifelong friend, you weren’t about to question it.

Rei was in the kitchen like she had been that first day Touya brought you home, an enormous expanse of marble counter and vaulted ceiling that made her look unfathomably small. Her snow white hair had been cropped short into a page boy cut and made her look younger than her years, especially when she glanced up at you with the very same smile she had when you were a child.

“Welcome back, Y/N,” she said. You bowed respectfully, Touya scoffing and grabbing the back of the collar to haul you up.

“She’s not the fucking prime minister,” he grunted.

“And you’re not the boss of me,” you sniped, the drinks you’d both shared at lunch making you a little looser tongued in front of Rei than you’d have liked.

“Shouto will be by in just a few minutes as well, and he’ll be so happy to see you,” Rei said, smiling gently.

“Shouto lives on his own?” you asked, curious. Aside from picturing him as the skinny preteen you’d last seen him as, you also had trouble imagining kind, sweet little Shouto leaving his mother on her own—and with Touya definitely counted as on her own, for all the help he was. Shouto seemed devoted, familial.

“He’s wanted his own space since he presented,” Rei said lightly, clearly unbothered.

It was rare for omegas to peel off from their family units before finding a mate, and the strangeness of striking out on his own struck you even further. Maybe he wanted a nest to bring someone back to, after finding the right person?

You wondered if he was going to be participating in this year’s mating run, and made a mental note to try and find out if he wanted help avoiding any undesirable alphas. If he was an omega, your beta scent would help disguise some of his tracks, you’d just have to follow in his footsteps far enough away from the main track that a ranging alpha wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon it.

That thought was cut short, however, by the sound of the door creaking open in the foyer you’d just come in from. There was the sound of rustling fabric, like someone shedding their coat, and then footsteps padded through the hall. A hint of a scent met your nose, slightly sweet and smoky, with an undercurrent of something fresh—like a campfire burning on a cold, clear day. Your brow furrowed, the frostiness an almost-familiar dimension, like Rei's cold widlflower scent. Who was—?

Then a tall, unfamiliar alpha poked his head through the door, fluffy red and white strands of hair tangling across his forehead. He was an arresting sight—easily the most beautiful person you had ever seen, every single one of his features so perfectly and evenly placed, like he'd been put together deliberately. He looked startlingly like Rei, if Rei were a man, except for the fiery blue of his left eye, the shock of scarlet hair above it.

You stared at this new interloper, confused, until you were seized with a sudden memory of that scar, that same mop of hair bent over a turtle-shaped block puzzle.

No. No fucking way.

Rei smiled, opening her arms, and you gaped after him as Todoroki Shouto prowled across the kitchen to her, enveloping her in a hug. Where Touya was taller than his mother, his baby brother almost dwarfed her, easily clearing six feet, his shoulders broad and his frame packed with dense muscle. He'd always had the same elegant, sweetly beautiful set to his features that his mother and Touya did, but there was something sharper about them now, a slightly more alpha edge to him.

An enormous bicep shifted against the sleeve of his t-shirt as Shouto held Rei, and suddenly it was very clear how Shouto had managed to become a firefighter.

Something pinched your arm, hard, and you whipped around to stare at Touya accusingly. “Ouch!”

He smirked. “Don’t fucking stare like he does.”

You scowled at him, and opened your mouth to say something unsavory, until two mismatched eyes turned on you, pinning you in place.

“Y/N,” Shouto said. His voice was deep as midnight—so much lower than you had remembered—careful and smooth. The sound of it slithered up your spine like a shiver.

“Shouto?” you answered, stepping closer. “You’re Shouto? Are you sure?”

Shouto released his mother, only the tiniest corner of his mouth twitching. And that was confirmation enough. Shouto had always been a little serious, watching you carefully and intently. He was most like his mother that way—withdrawn, a little bit solemn.

“As far as I am aware,” he said. His tone was flat but you heard the tease in it, regardless. And that was so like him too, couching his inner little shit under the most serious tone, under those earnest heterochromatic eyes.

“Wish he wasn’t,” Touya muttered.

“Oh my god, Shouto. You’ve grown up so much,” you said, a strange thrill zinging up your spine as he stepped closer. That scent like campfire on a cold day washed over you, making you a little dizzy.

Shouto’s eyes got a little bit round at the edges, and something pulled at the corner of his mouth again, an expression you didn’t recognize. His tone was soft as he observed, “You are exactly the same as I remember.”

You could tell he meant it kindly, so you chose not to be offended with his obvious tact. You were well aware you were not a fresh-faced high school graduate anymore.

“I’m definitely older than you remember,” you said, resisting the urge to poke him in the chest. Your hand felt magnetized toward it for some reason. “Don’t be surprised if you hear my bones creaking all the way from the preserve during the run.”

Something sudden and strange passed over Shouto’s face, those mismatched eyes narrowing in on you.

“You’re running,” he said, his tone suddenly flat. “This year.”

“Yeah I’m back in town for it,” you said, ignoring Touya’s scoff at your side. “Gotta appease my mother. She doesn’t get that betas aren’t the target crowd for this, nevermind ancient ones. That, and I plan to disappear up a tree if someone so much as sniffs in my direction.”

“Up a tree,” Shouto repeated, sounding contemplative.

You wondered if he was internalizing how weird you were. He probably wouldn’t have remembered you being weird, considering how younger kids never thought to question their older peers. Maybe he’d even thought you cool when you were growing up together—you’d quickly disabuse him of that notion.

You nodded. “I’ve only been followed by alphas twice and both times I lost them up that big willow overlooking the bay, if you take the seaside path out two miles?”

Shouto’s eyes tracked you closely, like he was committing every word to memory. “I know it.”

You smiled. “The sea breeze is just enough to hide a beta’s scent, once you’re out of sight up there. I hope the city life hasn’t gotten me too out of shape to get up the trunk. Though to be frank I’m not too worried about it this year. Are you running?”

“Yes,” Shouto said, so quickly that it looked like he’d startled himself.

Touya’s head whipped around to stare at him, and Rei’s eyelashes fluttered momentarily, a weird stillness overcoming her—until a sort of look of understanding came over her features. You thought you caught a hint of a smile as she ducked her head to return to her dinner preparations.

“Thought you said you weren’t interested,” Touya said, his tone accusing. “You’ve never run before.”

Shouto looked deeply unfussed by his older brother’s sudden consternation. “Perhaps I have changed my mind.”

“The hell you did,” Touya said snottily. “You said you knew you wouldn’t find your life mate there.”

“Perhaps that has changed too,” Shouto said, his tone so dry that you could tell he was purposefully needling Touya. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Brothers.

Touya’s scoff overlaid the thump of Rei’s knife as she returned to chopping, and you realized how rude it looked for the three of you to be standing there arguing while she was working.

You hurriedly stepped around Touya and Shouto, peering over Rei’s shoulder. For some reason you were hyperaware of Shouto as you passed him, a thought you shoved right back out of your mind as you approached Rei. “Is there anything I can help with? I feel like I have years of free dinners to pay you back for.”

“I am almost done, but thank you, Y/N,” Rei said, as Touya said something in a haughty tone of voice, and Shouto’s low baritone answered. Rei’s mouth quirked softly at this—and you realized it was the same way Shouto smiled, small and private.

“—Not bringing home some weird fucking omega,” Touya was saying when you turned back to the boys. You startled when you realized Shouto had shifted to face you instead of his brother, and his body language looked like he was mostly ignoring him.

You channeled your sudden laugh into a fake cough. Touya eyed you sourly, long used to your tricks.

“Well if you want any help on the run, let me know,” you told Shouto, cutting into their argument with the practice of a beta used to diffusing things, especially between Touya and others. Shouto’s mouth twitched again like he knew what you were doing, and you watched his eyes pick over you speculatively.

You marveled at how far back you had to tilt your head if you wanted to look him directly in the eye now. He was so big, and so unexpectedly handsome—he really had grown up well. Some omega was going to be very, very pleased at the end of this week, provided he really did go after someone.

“If it’s your first you probably won’t know all the best hiding spots,” you told him.

Not that they were really hiding spots, considering most omegas wanted to be found. And there was no one on this earth who wouldn’t want to be found by an alpha who looked like Shouto did now. But he’d probably want to make sure he got to his intended first, before any other alpha found them.

Shouto nodded, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I will take you up on that,” his tone was low, intimate.

You smiled up at him, though something weird twinged in your chest. “Lunch sometime this week then? I’ll walk you through everything.”

Touya made a noise of disgust, and you shushed him. Shouto’s smile pulled into a quarter-moon sliver, sweet and beautiful. “I would like that.”

A strange little thrill zinged down your spine. You very pointedly did not think about it, instead shooting Shouto a thumbs up. And then, seized by a sudden need to get away, you marched forward to grab Touya by his collar, dragging him out into the dining room.

“Do you have to make your mother do everything? Let’s set the table,” you ordered him, shoving him at the cabinets. Touya swore at you, trying to twist his lanky body out of your hands, spitting like a wet cat.

But your mind was already elsewhere, occupied by this strange new turn of events. It really had been a long time away from your hometown, and much more had changed than you realized. You’d missed seeing Touya start to recover his life, you’d missed Rei returning to herself, you’d missed Shouto growing up into a man—and an alpha. You were suddenly overcome by the feeling that you did not want to miss any more, did not want to leave again—though of course that was foolishness.

The run was less than a week away, and you had train tickets back into the city just after.

And you had your mom to provide for, much as she wanted you to settle down with the first rando who got handsy with you in the woods. An alpha would have to bring more than an interest in you to your coupling in order to win you—and that was not going to happen, especially not to a beta, and especially not to you.

You laid the dishes out, resolving yourself. You’d enjoy this week, but never lose sight of the fact that you’d still have to leave at the end of it.

After all, it wasn’t like some miraculous twist of fate was lurking just around the corner of the Todoroki kitchen, ready to change your life.

[themidnightcrimson]

skirt ࿏ wm

summary: in which wanda gets a little too handsy during a small party.

words: 4.5k

warnings: top!wanda, fingering (r receiving), semi-public sex, severely gay ogling, reader being a fuckin simp

this fic is for 18+ only. minors dni.

masterlist.

Steve had unfortunately complained to Tony that the parties he always held in his huge, modern, techno mansion were not intimate enough. Tony, always ready to take complaints from Steve with a cheeky attitude, passed the message along to Pepper who decided to truly make something cozier for everyone.

Tony’s parties were pretty much bi-weekly at this point, every other Friday night. The team almost always showed up in entirety, and the regularity of it was becoming sentimental to some of you. Even Tony was starting to plan them: “You guys gotta try this whiskey. I’ll bring it next Friday” or “I swear, Cap, I’m gonna put you in a suit on Friday and shoot you up to Mars.” It was cute.

Tonight, instead of drinking and playing poker around Tony’s in-house bar room, Pepper had set up something beautiful outside. You’d arrived at the party with Nat, stepping through the back patio of Tony’ mansion and seeing something set up in his backyard. Tied between two trees was a large white screen, and several yards in front of it was a projector mounted onto the roof of the patio, pointed right towards the screen.

In front of the screen, on the lush, freshly-trimmed grass yard, was a whole bunch of pillowy chairs with blankets cast over them, set up like little cots. To the side of the arena was a little hot dog stand that also had a big red and golden popcorn machine currently popping popcorn attached to its hip, as well as a large futuristic-looking cooler full of ice and bottled drinks. There was even an attachment on the front of the hot dog stand with an array of candy bars.

Strung above the entire arena were strings of fairy lights going in every direction, tied between trees and the railing of the patio porch. The sun hadn’t quite set yet, but they were already turned on, providing cute little lights above the cozy scene. It was the homiest thing you’d ever seen at Tony’s home.

“My god,” Nat remarked as she looked around, looking as shocked as you. “It looks like Tony’s planning on proposing to all of us at the same time tonight.”

“I would say yes,” Banner said, coming up beside you and gawking up at the lights. He ran down the steps of the patio and towards one of the fluffy chairs made of pillow, throwing himself down on it and squishing it to the ground. You could hear his sigh of comfort from the patio.

“Do you guys like it?” Pepper asked, coming out of the house. “There’s more food and snacks inside if you guys want anything that’s not out there.”

“I feel like I’m experiencing my first American sleepover,” Nat said, turning to Pepper. “It’s great, really!”

It was cute seeing Nat get so excited like that. Steve showed up behind Pepper and had the same reaction as everyone else, even tearing up a little bit. When Tony reluctantly entered the patio, Steve gave him a slap on the shoulder. “This is really great, Tony. Really great.”

Tony tightly smiled and quickly went back into the house to avoid any more sentiment.

Since the few of you were the first to arrive, you all stayed on the porch and made conversation while waiting for everyone else to show up. It was a chilly spring night, the wind picking up and every once in a while catching the black skirt you were wearing. It was that annoying time of year, of course, where you would have been sweating during the day but now you were shivering at night. You wished you had worn pants instead of a skirt. You didn’t know you’d be thanking yourself later for the opposite.

You had been discreetly waiting for someone the entire time. As more people lingered through the back door into the backyard, you nervously glanced at each figure and hoped it’d be the one you wanted it to be, but it never was.

And then you knew. You didn’t see her, or hear her name, or any other evidence that she was there other than the fact that the pit in your stomach grew and there was a tingling sensation across your nerve endings. The witch always had that affect on you. You didn’t know if it was a spell or something, or maybe you were just acting like a crush-stricken schoolgirl, but you had a habit of always knowing when Wanda entered a room.

Surely enough, through the tinted windows lining the back porch, you could see a flash of red hair making its way towards the back door, that smile you had memorized greeting people as she stepped between them. A shiver crawled its way up your lower spine as the door opened and that face stepped through, the one you’ve been dreaming about, the one that haunts you, the one that twists your stomach into knots when you see it because it makes you think of all the times you’ve touched yourself with that face in mind.

Wanda stepped onto the porch, her hair in wavy locks down her shoulders. She was wearing a soft, light pink sweater that probably looked like off-white to everyone else in the dusk light, but you paid enough attention to know it was pink. It matched the gentle pink in her cheeks, and in her lips…

You and Wanda’s…”situation” was only just blossoming. After months and months of tense friendship and subtle flirting, you’d finally broken the ice when you’d shared a drunken makeout session at one of the parties. You found Wanda to be much bolder than you’d expected her to be, but it invigorated you so. She knew how to keep you on the edge but give you enough to keep you satisfied. She hadn’t fucked you yet, though she’s gotten close. You’ve felt her mouth, and her thigh, but she hadn’t touched you with her hands yet. Her hands.

It was embarrassing when Nat had to snap you out of it. You’d been staring at Wanda since she’d entered the backyard space and got caught up in a conversation with someone else on her way to greet you. You weren’t even sure if she’d seen you yet, but with how sly the witch was, you were sure she was fully aware of everything.

“Hey, you’ve got a little drool there,” Nat said, motioning to her own chin while looking at yours. You blushed and rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath and turning your back on Wanda. Even though she still hadn’t looked at you, you swore you could feel her eyes burning into your back.

“Shut up,” you whispered, crossing your arms and shivering slightly in the cold.

Like clockwork, you suddenly felt a warm arm wrap itself around your shoulders. God, you even recognized her touch now.

Looking up, you saw Wanda appear beside you, her arm slung over your shoulder and pulling you into her gently. You felt the softness of her sweater and her hair against your arm as you were overcome with her cologne. It was sweet but deep, and it made you melt every time you smelled it because it reminded you of all your moments with her.

Wanda smiled down at you, and you half-expected her to lean down for a kiss, but she didn’t. You weren’t public yet, though Nat knew the extent of it, and everyone else had just assumed. They all thought that if you weren’t fucking, it was at least obvious that Wanda wanted to, and no one would dare get in the way of that. This was all without your knowledge, of course, because you were innocent and naïve and thought that no one had any clue about it except for Nat. That was one thing that Wanda liked about you.

“Hey there,” Wanda smoothly said in almost a whisper. Every time you get close to her for the first time, you feel like you’re seeing her for the first time all over again. Her sparkling green eyes, soft lips turned in a self-assured smile, structured cheekbones, her cute little nose. It all made you swoon like a schoolgirl.

“Hi,” you squeaked, feeling your face get hot all over.

Wanda gave a breathy chuckle, obviously picking up on your little squeak. She gave a little space between you for a moment to let her eyes rake down over your figure. They landed at your hips, and her smile faded, turning almost crooked for a moment before she licked her lips and pursed them. “Hmmmm,” she hummed, pulling you into her again, a little tighter now. “You look so fucking good,” she hissed, leaning down towards your ear. You felt her breath fan against your ear, and then her lips grazed it, before she turned away, stiffening as if trying to hold something in. You watched her jaw flex, the muscles straining in her swan neck as she inhaled deeply.

You weren’t sure what exactly was going through the witch’s mind, but your body was burning all over. It almost pained you how you always had such a physical reaction to Wanda.

Wanda did not let go of you. Even as she lingered around the patio, even as people came up and made conversation, she kept you under her arm like her own pet bunny. You felt safe like that, tucked into Wanda, letting her lead the conversations while you just leaned against her soft sweater and inhaled her sweet perfume. The duality of Wanda’s gentle physique but domineering nature made your head dizzy.

Wanda was like a bee to honey to you for the entire time that you and everyone else waited for the party’s population to be dense enough to start a movie on the large projector screen. Finally, once the sun had set and only left an orange streak at the bottom of the sky, Tony came back out onto the patio and, fully equipped in his suit, stuck his hands out to the side and levitated up towards the projector. Halting mid-air, the face of the suit flipped away to reveal Tony’s face.

“Greetings and welcome to the lamest party Tony Stark has ever thrown,” Tony announced, earning several laughs throughout the small crowd of people before flipping the projector on and flying away.

Light illuminated onto the screen, and an old black-and-white Hollywood movie began playing on the screen. People made their way over to the little cots set out on the lawn, while some stayed on the patio pretending to be the adult part of the crowd.

“Want some snacks?” Wanda whispered in your ear, to which you gave a dumb nod, too focused on the way her hand slid down to your waist and gripped it.

Wanda led you over the little hot dog stand that shone like a beacon in the darkening lawn, apart from the light from the movie. You were about to tell Wanda that you wanted popcorn and Skittles, but she somehow beat you to it. “A bag of popcorn and some Skittles,” she told the guy behind the stand. Nodding, he began to load up a bag of buttery popcorn as you looked up at Wanda in confusion to how she knew what you wanted.

Mind-reading can be useful in many ways, kitten.

You thought Wanda had spoken, since you had heard her voice, but her lips didn’t even move and her voice sounded like it was behind you. Your eyes widened in realization that Wanda was using mind-reading on you for the first time—though it actually was about the hundredth time that she’d pried in on your cerebral. It was the telepathic communication that was happening for the first time, but she thought your confusion on the terms was cute.

“Thanks,” Wanda told the guy as he handed you the warm bag of popcorn. She took a bag of Skittles and two bottles of soda and placed her hand on your lower back, her warm palm ushering you towards a cot in front of the screen.

She decided to choose one a little off to the side, spaced out more from any others. It was a double, basically a large pillow in the shape of a chair that could hold two people.

“This is so fun!” you exclaimed, hopping down on the cot and sighing at how soft it was, understanding now why Banner was so relaxed when he had jumped onto one. There was even a little basket beside the chair that held a large, fluffy blanket folded up. Pepper had truly gone all out.

Wanda plopped down beside you, her warm body instantly melting into yours as her weight into the pillowy chair dipped you down closer to her. The redistribution of weight had moved you in a way that your skirt hiked up your legs.

Wanda’s eyes flickered to your skirt, her pupils swarming. You blushed and pulled your skirt down to cover yourself, discreetly watching Wanda blink and force herself to look away. She leaned back in the chair, snaking her arm behind you and curling it around your waist, which only deepened the blush on your cheeks.

Reaching towards your lap, Wanda took a piece of popcorn from the bag you held between your legs and popped it into her mouth. You took a piece and moved it towards your mouth, but suddenly her hand stopped you.

“Nuh uh,” she said quietly, taking the popcorn from between your fingers. “Let me do it.”

You froze, staring at her face that was so close. It was illuminated by the projection on the screen, her green eyes darker than usual.

“Open your mouth,” she whispered, her eyes flickering down to your lips. There was a hunger in her eyes as she watched you hesitate before slowly opening your lips, your heart beating twice faster in your chest. Wanda brought the popcorn to your mouth, letting your tongue take it. You were surprised when, as you felt the texture of the popcorn on your tongue and the butter flooded your taste buds, the tips of Wanda’s fingers lingered in your mouth. As you attempted to close your lips, they only closed around her fingers, tasting the extra salt left behind on them. Your face grew red and hot as you watched Wanda smirk, pushing her fingers in just a miniscule bit further, her own lips parting in infatuation as she watched your lips suction around her fingers.

“Good girl,” she whispered, slowly dragging her fingers out of your mouth.

As if nothing happened, as if you weren’t sitting there blushing and sweating and feeling the space between your legs get warm, she went back to simply eating the popcorn and staring up at the screen.

Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to stop staring at this blasted woman who just teased you so easily and tried to focus on the movie.

Wanda’s handsy-ness wasn’t too extreme during the first half of the movie. It was only her arm around your waist, her hand rubbing your back sensually, her fingers softly combing through your hair and pulling on it hard once or twice just to get a squeak out of you, to which she pressed a discreet kiss to your neck. It was like she was just playing with you. It was like she was just playing with her food.

It wasn’t until halfway through the movie, when there was no sight of any sunlight in the dark night sky, that Wanda strengthened her moves on you.

Under the pretty fairy lights, as everyone else started to calm down and really settle into the movie, a chilly night breeze sewed itself through the air. It flittered over your exposed legs, causing you to shiver. Wanda, who’d been trying not to ogle your thighs all night, couldn’t help but see the goosebumps on your tender skin.

“You cold?” she asked in a soft, sweet tone. When you nodded, she reached over to the basket and brought out the large, thick blanket, draping it over the both of your laps. The warm, soft blanket was such a relief to your cold legs, and with Wanda’s body also available to you as a heater, you felt so cozy and safe.

Then Wanda’s hand reached under the blanket and rested on your thigh, her palm curving around it. The action made you stiffen, your skin growing exponentially warmer where her hand touched. The intimacy of the action sent shimmers through you, and you tried to beat back the little smile on your face.

Wanda, on the other hand, was trying not to smirk. She was more purposeful than you gave her credit for, but again, your naivety was what fueled her to see just how much she could get away with.

You were trying your hardest to ignore her hand on your thigh until it suddenly shifted upwards, pushing your skirt up with it. You gasped quietly. Her hand was all the way up your thigh now, gripping your flesh firmly. Her fingers were wrapped into the inner most tender part of your thigh, pressing into the soft skin there.

The heat between your legs amplified with how close Wanda was to it. You couldn’t help but nervously glance around, afraid that somehow someone had seen her hand grab your thigh under the thick blankets. Luckily, no one was looking. The closest person to you was Nat, but she was watching the film with her head tilted and arms crossed, obviously trying to analyze it like she did with most films.

“Wanda,” you whispered, glancing up at her to see that she was already staring at you darkly.

“What, princess?” she asked innocently.

The name struck you like a bullet of white hot fire in the pit of your stomach. She watched you seriously, a smirk twitching the corners of her lips, as she tightened her grip on your thigh. It stung a little, her fingertips digging so hard into that sensitive inner flesh of your thigh, that you almost squeaked.

“If you want to make noises for me, then do it, babygirl,” she lilted, and you almost gasped when her hand slipped fully under your skirt. You squirmed a little, but she looked at you threateningly. “Don’t move.”

Your breathing grew heavy as you looked around again, feeling that for sure someone was looking this time. No one was.

No one will see, detka.

Wanda’s voice was in your head again. You sharply turned to look at her, but she was staring at the screen now.

Suddenly, you felt something under the covers spreading your thighs open. You hadn’t even realized you’d been squeezing them together, but as you looked down at the blanket, you saw a hint of red glaring through it as your legs spread themselves wide open. She was using magic to open you up for her. Out of impulse, you tried to slam them shut, but her magic held you there, the red glare dissipating so as to not draw attention to what was happening beneath the blanket.

Be still.

You bit your lip as you felt Wanda’s hand cup you under your skirt, her palm pressing into your fabric-covered core. Your breath quivered out of both nervousness and pleasure when she found your clit through your panties and slowly rubbed it.

I can feel how wet you are through your panties, princess. Her voice was even husky in your head.

You tried to keep still as Wanda rubbed your sensitive nub, looking around again to see that still no one was looking at you. But the fact that anyone could look over at the wrong moment, see part of Wanda’s arm stretched towards your lap under the blanket, seeing shapes inappropriately moving under the fabric, instilled a sense of fear into you that seemed to propel your desire.

Good girl, just keep being still for me. I know how bad you’ve been wanting this. You’ve dreamed so much of my fingers.

God, how did she know? Had she been spying on you?

Her fingers dipped down your fabric-covered slit, tickling there for a moment and feeling the wet spot forming on your panties. You were soaking by now, you could feel it, and it only got worse when Wanda started to push your panties to the side.

You started to open your mouth to tell her no, that she shouldn’t do that in front of everyone at a party, that anyone could look over and see and that it’d be so embarrassing, but her voice was quick to reprimand you.

So what if someone sees? I’ll let anyone know that you’re all mine.

With that, her fingers successfully slipped under the thin, stretchy fabric of your panties and met your soaking cunt. You heard Wanda let out a tense breath as she seeped her fingers through your sopping folds, her jaw flexing again.

You’re so fucking wet, babygirl. Her voice growled within your head, dizzying you.

You glanced around nervously, almost thinking someone was looking at you, but finding that no one was still. You felt so nervous about it, so paranoid, but your feverishness was mostly just from Wanda’s fingers rubbing your bare clit now, moving your wetness all around.

I’ve been wanting to feel your pretty cunt for so long. You just had to wear this slutty little skirt tonight, hmm?

Heat burned throughout you as Wanda’s fingers moved towards your entrance, circling it. You stiffened a little, not knowing exactly what to expect from her. You had to force yourself to not gyrate against her hand, to not turn to her and beg for her to just do it, to not moan out loud. It was especially hard not to do the last thing when Wanda’s fingers thrusted inside you.

“Oh—” you started, until Wanda’s magic snapped your mouth shut. Wanda went completely still, freezing completely. You took a blushing, nervous glance around and nearly died when your eyes made contact with Nat’s eyes.

You froze like a deer in headlights. Nat was staring at you while Wanda’s fingers were inside you for the first time. You were looking her in the eye while your walls clenched around Wanda. You wanted to set yourself on fire.

Fortunately, Nat only gave a casual little head nod and a smile and then turned back to the movie. You knew Nat well enough to know that she wasn’t just pretending that she didn’t see anything. Luckily for you, she really had not noticed anything unusual other than your usual awkwardness around Wanda.

Close call, princess. You almost got found out for being a slut for me.

Taking a shaky breath, your hand crawled around until it found Wanda’s knee under the blanket and gripped it for dear life as she started thrusting her fingers inside you. You tried not to whine at the stretch—it’d been a while for you.

You’re so fucking tight, baby. Wanda’s voice was breathy in your head.

You threw your head back a little as Wanda’s fingers pumped in and out of you, and you could even hear the faint wet sounds coming from under the blanket. It made you feel so dirty, getting fingered like that in front of everyone, and being so wet for it, too.

I knew you were such a slut for me. What if I rip the blanket off right now, hmm? Expose you for spreading your legs for me even in public like a whore?

Gritting your teeth together, you felt Wanda’s two fingers hitting a sweet spot inside you. It was so hard to not buck your hips, to not squirm or moan or do anything but etch claw marks into Wanda’s knee.

And then you felt a more noticeable stretch. Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt Wanda force a third finger into you. This time you couldn’t help it. You threw your head to the side and buried it in Wanda’s chest, letting out a mix between a quiet moan and a sigh that luckily was muffled by Wanda’s sweater. Keeping as still as possible, you inhaled Wanda’s perfume and scratched the fuck out of her knee as she pumped three fingers inside your cunt at an agonizingly slow speed. You knew she would’ve fucked you a lot harder if it weren’t for the sake of being discreet.

“Wanda,” you murmured into her chest, feeling the valley of her breasts from beneath her sweater cushioning your face. “Wanda, I’m close.”

Her fingers were hitting so deep inside you. They were so long, and she was curling them, and she was hitting your sweet spot deep inside, and you could feel your juices dripping down yourself.

Hold it. She commanded.

You didn’t even realize it, but you clamped your teeth around a chunk of her sweater, biting down hard on the thick cable-knit fabric as the woman’s fingers plundered you at a steady pace. You didn’t even know if anyone was looking at you now, and you didn’t even care because your body was starting to tremble as you struggled to not cum all over her fingers.

Finally, when you begged again, she acquiesced with Cum for me, princess.

It took all of your power to not moan out loud as you orgasmed with Wanda’s fingers lodged deep inside you, your walls spasming around them and your hips trembling. She nuzzled her nose against the top of your head and hissed when you bit down on her sweater again and accidentally bit into her breast. She held you still with her spare arm, her fingers deep in you, as you came down from the blinding high.

“That’s it,” she whispered into your hair. “Good girl, just breathe.” You were breathing very hard to make up for not being able to moan. “You were such a good, quiet girl for me, angel.” The praise landed over you like soft kisses until you realized she was also pressing soft kisses to the top of your head.

It didn’t help that, when you had finally calmed down and Wanda pulled her shiny fingers out of you, she popped them into her mouth and sucked off all of your cum. You blushed and dug your face into her chest again, this time purposefully biting her breast which made her hiss again and then giggle evilly.

Luckily, no one had seen you get fingered by Wanda, at least not to your knowledge. Nothing had ever come out of it, at least, except that Tony spread a rumor that you had peed yourself during the party because when you stood up from the chair at the end of the night, there was a wet spot right under where you had been sitting.

[drcranessweetestdoe]

heyyyyy

could you do a Tommy shelby fic?

in which he fucks Ada's bestfriend when she is 18!

hii, love this idea xx I have been writing this all day, time to celebrate with a jam sandwich:) xx

Finally mine

warning: agegap!, Thomas lusts after her while she is underage, grooming, virginity loss, virginity kink, innocence kink, unprotected sex, Tommy being a softie, possessiveness

pairing: Thomas Shelby x Innocent!Reader

summary: ever since he came back from the war, Tommy found himself wanting his sister’s lovely and sweet best friend, too bad he has to wait until she is 18

(Y/N) was the sweetest girl in the whole of Birmingham, always polite and kind. Thomas was smitten with her from day one. She and Ada met in school, she felt sorry that Ada was always alone, because everyone told their kids to stay away from the filthy Shelby’s. So, one day she gathered the courage and sat beside the sad girl, who was very excited to finally have a friend.

It was the age of war, so everyone was always on the edge of a meltdown. And money wasn’t exactly falling from the sky. While (Y/N)’s family weren’t considered aristocrats by any chance, she never had to worry about not getting fed, or not having a warm bed to sleep in. That was something that the Shelby’s couldn’t exactly relate to, there was little money and quite a few mouths to feed. Aunt Polly tried her best to feed the hungry children at the table, but she was failing more and succeeding less. Her sister-in-law’s three big boys were away at war, but they were always talked about.

One day, the thirteen year old (Y/N) plopped down beside her best friend Ada with a full lunch box in hand. She always had lunch packed with her, but Ada never did. For a long time, she just assumed that the malnourished girl was not hungry in school. While she was munching on her apple, she heard the growl of a hungry belly and Ada turned her head down in shame. While a girl is naive at 13, (Y/N) immediately knew that her friend was hungry, and that she probably didn’t get as much food at home as she did. When Ada looked back at her, she reacted with a wide smile to the outstretched hand towards her, holding a big red apple.

For the rest of the break, they just sat under their tree, silently chewing on their apples, with a smile on both faces.

That is how Ada knew that (Y/N) was going to be her lifelong best friend. She opened up to her when they were sharing a cigarette on the edge of the forest.

“We had more money before the war, if Tommy was here he would make sure that we have food.” Ada explained.

(Y/N) just blinked at her friend. “Who’s Tommy?”

———-

Three years later, the girls were now sixteen and the war was finally over. Because (Y/N) herself didn’t have any brothers, or sisters, she didn’t know how many families waited for this day to come.

It was a pretty summer day, and she made her way to the Shelby household, where she was always welcomed by Aunt Polly. Except, when she walked into the house, there was only one man sitting at the table. Her breath got stuck in her throat and she blushed heavily, he was very handsome. For a moment she believed that she walked into the wrong house, but the photographs on the walls proved otherwise. He was smoking a cigarette and staring at the wall blankly, he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even hear her come in.

Thomas just wanted a moment to himself in his childhood house before going back to the Garrison, he was not the same man anymore. Suddenly, he saw a figure in the corner of his eye. A second later, the two pairs of eyes met. His previously sad eyes lit up at the sight of her, but he tried to conceal it. She was so beautiful… Slender and weakish frame, something that made him eager to protect her. Her long and soft looking hair. And that face, oh god, that pretty face.

“H-Hi… I’m (Y/N).” She walked closer to him and stuck her hand out for him, she recognized him from the pictures, he was one of Ada’s brothers.

He heard about her, Aunt Pol always told him what was happening on Watery Lane in the letters she sent to Tommy. She had mentioned Ada’s lovely friend, multiple times. She told him that the girl was pretty, very kind, and that she went with her to church on Sundays when no one else wanted to, just so Polly didn’t have to go alone.

Tommy smiled at her, and she felt herself get lost in those bright blue gems of eyes. Instead of shaking her hand, he brought it to his lips and planted a little kiss on it. Her hand was soft and warm, it was a while since he felt the touch of a gentle female. He smiled when she blushed more at his kiss. “Thomas Shelby.”

—----

From that day on, Miss (Y/L/N) was under the protection of the Peaky Blinders. Thomas always had one of his men following her and Ada to school, and then back home. It killed him knowing that he couldn’t touch her, make her his, not yet anyway. That would have been immoral and awful, and he knew that aunt Pol would have broken his hand in two and cut off his cock. That didn’t mean he hadn’t spent too many night fucking his fist to the thought of her. Everyone in the Shelby clan could see how soft he was towards her, always making sure that she stays out of the bad things, and whenever she came over and he was working, his eyes basically formed into hearts and followed her everywhere. The family loved her, she enjoyed baking and she always made sure that at least once a week she turned up to the office with home-baked treats. Those kinds of sweet treats calmed everyone down, business was blooming after all.

Ever since Tommy came back from the war, he only let himself be pleasured by whores, the one girl he wanted was the one he had to wait for. He always hired prostitutes that resembled her even the slightest bit. He imagined that he was burying himself inside her wet and warm walls, he overheard her and Ada and he was very well aware that she was untouched, a sweet little virgin. In Small Heath, the girls started sleeping around in their teens, but she, at 17, didn’t care about the boys her age. She wanted a certain gangster, who was nearing his thirties.

He didn’t even claim her yet, but wherever she walked, everyone knew she was Tommy Shelby’s girl. He sent her gifts, and always a handwritten note. Her heart never failed to warm up when she saw the little T.S on the bottom of the cards. Flowers, chocolates, exotic spices that she could put in her sweet treats, jewellery, dresses, everything a 17 year old girl loves. She was spoiled by him. When she wore one of the dresses that he got for her, she always sent him a shy smile and a little nod.

—-----

Tomorrow was going to be the day when she would finally become 18 years old, a young lady. She felt so antsy getting to bed, knowing that she would wake up as an adult. She also deeply hoped that Tommy would do something, after 2 years of gifts, protection and lustful gazes from distance. It was safe to say that her standards were very much heightened.

When she woke up, she noticed a big box on the chair of her vanity, tied up in one of those big ribbons. Her mother must have brought it up for her, as she always did when her daughter’s name was on the box, written by the familiar handwriting.

She was smiling widely when she opened the box up, it had a beautiful silky dress and a gold locket necklace. She marvelled at the divine fabric, but quickly blushed when she looked into the box again. There was a set of white lingerie and a note.

Tonight, I’ll send a car to pick you up at 7pm, be ready.

~T.S

She melted at that, and she felt her lower tummy warm up. This evening, she will finally be claimed.

——-

By the time 7pm rolled around, she did everything she could to make herself look pretty for him. She took a long hot bath, made sure she smelled good everywhere. She washed her hair and tied up half of it with a bow. She put lotion all over herself, sprayed herself with perfume and put the lovely dress on. Sitting in her vanity, she put on some makeup. She felt beautiful.

She got her light coat on, along with kitten heels and she was waiting for his car to come. When it did, she sat in the backseat and greeted the driver.

She got driven to Arrow house, which she only heard about before. It was so huge, and overwhelming, but very nice.

A maid took her coat and escorted her to the dining roomom. Just like the rest of the house, it was quite big, both the room itself and the table. It was decorated elegantly, the candlelight flooded the room. Just as she stepped in, Thomas walked in the room on the other door. He looked so handsome as always, with his muscular frame and his tailored suit.

His heart nearly jumped out of his chest, she looked like an angel, and she was standing in his house, wearing his gift. The maid left, now there were only two of them in the room, he walked up to her. With a gentle hand on her waist, he pulled her closer so he could plant a kiss on her cheek and whisper in her ear. “You look absolutely gorgeous.” He got even closer, her head was spinning with him so close, his masculine scent sent her hormones into overdrive. “I hope the dress isn’t the only gift of mine on you.”

He felt his dick twitch when she looked up at him like that, a gentle glint in her eyes. She shaked her head, too lost in his eyes to answer with words. To shake her out of her trance, he guided her to her seat, with his hand still on her slender waist.

He sat next to her, the maids kept on serving the finest of foods. Thomas also brought out a bottle of red wine. Both of them were surprised how easy it was for them to talk. They talked and ate, and Tommy even found himself laughing. He also found out how innocent she was, she wasn’t stupid, just inexperienced, and he was more than happy to give her experience. She also had a big heart, and a gentle soul, she was everything he needed.

While everyone in Small Heath tried to warn her about Thomas Shelby, she never understood why. He was just trying to protect his family and give them a chance at a better life, he was also an absolute softie for her. She could see that he had a lot of love to give, he enjoyed being the leader and defeating other gang leaders, but he must have been craving someone who could take care of him for once, she knew that she wanted to be that person.

When they finished dessert, he pulled her chair closer to his and cradled one of her blushing cheek into his palm.

“Are you aware of my intentions towards you?” He asked in a serious tone, she knew that he wasn’t fooling around. Now or never. She nodded as much as she could with the gentle hold on her face, but he wasn’t having it. “Answer me with words, I want to see if you really want this.” She felt dizzy by hearing his dominating tone.

“Yes, I know your intentions with me.” She replied shyly.

“What are they?” His fingers started to move her hair out of her face, caressing her in the process.

“Y-You want to make me yours.” She spoke lowly, it was hard to speak when he was looking at her as if he was seconds away from ravaging her.

“Yes, and do you want that, (Y/N)? Do you want me to make you mine?” He was even closer now, he whispered seductively in her ear, his full lips were nearly touching the shell of her ear. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I will give you everything you crave. Please, let me give you the world.” Thomas Shelby barely used the word ‘please’, but he was nearly begging for her. She almost giggled, as if she really needed much convincing.

“I want it, I want it so bad, Tommy…” She was getting impatient, and he saw it on her.

“Shh, sweetheart… Don’t let your pretty head worry, I’m going to take care of you so nicely.” He stood up and stuck his hand out for her to take. “Come.”

He walked with her to his bedroom, she was walking behind him so she couldn’t see the wicked grin on his lips. When they stepped in the door, he just kept on walking, which caused her to walk backwards, until her knees hit the bed and she had fallen down on it.

He didn’t waste a second and crawled on top of her, his lips slowly finding hers. Their kiss started out slow, he guided her lips with his own. After a few minutes, noticing that she was starting to become more and more confident, he slipped his tongue into her open mouth. His hand wandered to her back, where the zipper was, his head pulled away so he could ask for silent permission. Once he got it, he helped her sit up and he removed the dress. Sitting back on his heels, he admired the sight in front of him, her young body was just begging to be ruined. She was wearing the lace, she looked exactly like an angel. His lips glued themselves to her neck and they sucked and bit, her noises were proof that she was enjoying his touch. He made sure to really mark her up, she wasn’t going to leave his mansion for a while, he needed his time with his new prize. She bit down on her lips to hide her moans, something he growled at.

“Don’t you dare. I want to hear you, don’t hold back, sweetheart.”

He went down to her breasts, he also reached under her arched back and unclasped her bra. She tried to cover herself, but he was having none of it. He slowly unpeeled her arms from her chest and kissed all around her breasts. “How beautiful! Such a nice pair of tits you have, the best I’ve seen.” He sucked a nipple into his mouth and she mewled loudly, she didn’t expect to feel so aroused while getting her nipples sucked at. He made sure that he gave both of her tits the same treatment before going lower.

Before he could do more, he stood up to remove his shirt and pants, her presence was making him hotter by the minute. He hooked his fingers into her panties and his cock nearly tore his underwear when he saw how the crotch was stuck to her entrance. She was already so ready for him. He yanked harder and they finally parted, he brought her panties up to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Mhm, so sweet… But, I think I need to feel this from the source.” Tommy dropped to his knees in front of her spread legs, her mind was making her doubt herself. What if she looked ugly down there? What if it smelled or tasted b—

“OH— Tommy!” She moaned loudly when his tongue licked a long stripe up her slit. He just chuckled into her pussy darkly, then he moved on to her pleasure. His mouth was sucking her throbbing clit, his fingers slowly circled her entrance, teasing her.

“Fuck… Your cunt tastes divine, and it’s only for my mouth to taste.” It wasn’t even a question. She was unable to form a coherent sentence, she could only moan and thrash on his tongue. He took one finger and he slowly eased it into her, she was so wet that it slipped right into her, he didn’t hesitate to add another one. “You’re going so good, I cannot wait to feel this tight virgin pussy on my cock.” He curled his fingers and rubbed them right into her spongy spot, her fingers grabbed his hair and tried to push his face more into her heat. He felt her clenching more and more, so he sped up his movements and grinned proudly when she came undone with a whiny moan and a desperate call of his name.

He kissed his way back up to her heaving chest and looked up at her flushed face. He talked her through it, until her breathing evened out again. He slowly slipped his underwear off, his back straightened out for her to see his big cock. It was veiny and thick and it made her nervous. He kept her legs spread, while he kneeled between them, one of his hand smoothing her face and the other one gripped himself at his base. “Want to give a little touch? Don’t be scared, I’m going to make this very pleasurable for you, my sweet girl.” He hissed when her fingertips made contact with his dripping tip, he was so pent up and her soft touch nearly made him blow his load all over her juicy tits, but he had to stay patient. “Are you ready? Ready to become mine?”

“Yes, Tommy, please, I want to feel you. I-I waited for you.” This caused him to grin and give her a deep kiss.

“I know you did, little one.” He positioned himself at her entrance and he slowly began pushing in, he felt a bit of resistance, but with a sharp thrust, he managed to break through it. He wrapped her up in his arms and whispered sweet nothings into her ear soothingly. “I know, I know. It will feel better in a minute, your pussy just has to adjust to my cock. Relax.” It didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would, but it still did, the girls in her class made it sound worse, or maybe their boyfriends didn’t take the time to prep them properly. That made her so proud, her Tommy made sure she was ready. She tried her best to relax her muscles and she felt the pain lessen. She planted a shy kiss on Tommy’s neck at which he chuckled at. “Good girl. You’re mine now, only mine.” He slowly began moving in and out of her.

Her walls gripped on him like a vice, he didn’t need any whores anymore, he had her now. His hands lifted her hips up a bit, so his cock was hitting her spot at every thrust. He went more and more faster, his fingers also began rubbing on her swollen clitoris.

“AH— Tommy, I’m going to—do that thing again.” His innocent little girl, so good for him.

“Good… I can feel you squeeze me, come on, sweet girl, come for me. Come on my cock. Let me fill you up. Let me make you mine.” With a shout of his name and a cry, she came around him. When he felt her walls pulsing around him, he let go too. His warm cum painted her walls, and it was such a delicious sensation. He stayed inside her for a few minutes, both of them trying to catch their breaths.

When he pulled out, he sat back so he could watch his cum leak out of her spent hole. He looked down proudly at his softening cock, which had some of her blood on it. Shit, he really filled her up with his load, there was so much of it. And the whiteness of him and the dark crimson of her virginity made such a lovely contrast together.

He took a rag from his bedside table and cleaned her up, making sure that he was gentle with her, the girl just got fucked and she was sensitive both physically and mentally, he had to be gentle.

After he made sure they were both clean, he once again brought her into his embrace. He smiled at her lovingly, which caused her to do the same. Her hair was all puffy from his touch, but he loved it.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He cradled her cheek, and caressed her under eye area with his fingertip.

“I’m good, I feel a bit sore, but it’s okay.” She nuzzled into his neck and left little kisses. “I’m so happy to be here with you.”

He smiled in a way he didn’t for a long time, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. He wanted to give the world to the girl in his arms, and he felt the primal urge to protect her and keep her away from all the bad. “Me too. I’m happy to know that you’re finally mine.”

taglist: @your-nanas-house