#ruby lucas imagine

[goosin-around]

Snow: Why are Regina and Emma not talking?

Ruby: They're fighting

Snow:then why are they holding hands?

Ruby: Regina gets sad when they fight

[wlw-imagines]

A Hunter By Trade - Ruby Lucas/Reader (Once Upon a Time)

prompt: "Could I request a Ruby(from OUAT) x reader one shot where R is a werewolf hunter and doesn't know Ruby is a werewolf and when R finds out Ruby is terrified that she'll leave her or kill her but instead the reader quits being a hunter and becomes a cop with Emma and David? Some fluff in the end?" - anon

a/n: these are from my old tumblr thefandomwritings from back in 2018 ! re-vamped and re-purposed!! hope u enjoy and forgive the 2018 me style writing 

Having just finished your shift in the forest, hunting under Mr Gold's insistence, you were happy to finally be off work for another month and back with your girlfriend at Granny's Diner. Ruby's long hours of working there often meant you're schedules of night shifts and hers of day shifts would clash but for the next month you were free to spend time with her,

"Morning Y/N." Emma gave you a small wave as you walked into the Diner like you did every morning after work.

You sent Emma and Henry a tired smile, "Morning you two. Hot chocolate and waffles before school, Henry?" You asked the young boy who smiled cheekily and nodded, stuffing a forkful of his breakfast into his mouth.

You were going to stop for a chat before you realised you still had your hunting weapons on you and you should probably get rid of them. Your knife still strapped to your thigh and your silver gun still in its holster at your hip. Emma seemed to notice at the same time and was about to speak but was fortunately cut off by your girlfriend.

"Y/N! Good morning, how was work?" Ruby asked, wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug.

In an attempt to make your working life sound normal you simply shrugged and mumbled, "Quiet", which wasn't too far from the truth. You had never actually told Ruby exactly what your job entailed. All she really knew was that you had to work night shifts. However, she seemed content enough with your answer and pressed a light kiss to your lips.

Smiling, you pulled her close to you. You missed her when you were out working, you enjoyed the warmth and comfort just being in her arms caused you. Then that little moment was ruined by Emma inevitably speaking up.

"Need a gun for work, Y/N?" You turned to see her raising an eyebrow, looking at you intensely over her own steaming drink.

You rolled your eyes, "It's perfectly legal Swan." Justifying your actions as you sensed her legal conscience was starting to make an appearance.

Ruby's grip on you slowly loosened and you noticed her frown slightly, "You have a gun? How didn't I know you have a gun?"

"It's nothing Ruby. It was my mother's before she died," You smiled softly but Ruby still seemed unconvinced, "Mr Gold kindly made sure I got it a couple of weeks ago. Just before the spell broke."

Ruby shifted slightly, looking more uneasy by the minute, "But what's it for? Why do you even need it?" She protested.

"Originally it was just in memory of my mother but then Gold needed a favour so I thought I'd help him out and so more recently I've just been using it to keep the town safe, I guess. That's all he asked me to do. It's kind of in my blood to do it." You smiled proudly, now knowing that your mother and your mother's mother had both been Hunter's and now, in your own little way, you were honouring that.

"Keeping the town safe, isn't that my job?" Emma now joined in the inquisition, making your head spin slightly, "And you’re doing work for Gold?"

"Just as a favour, I patrol the woods at night, but I-" You stopped and took a deep breath, deciding that if they could just see how harmless your gun truly was then they'd give you a break. "I've never shot a person with it." You said, meekly as you carefully placed the gun down on the table.

"A silver gun?" You heard Ruby ask in an unusually quiet voice.

You were about to respond when Henry's cutlery clattered onto his plate, "You hunt werewolves? You're a Hunter? How didn't I see this before?" He asked incredulously, putting two and two together. "But-" He looked at Ruby but before he could continue you interrupted him in order to defend yourself.

"Woah, kid, no one said anything about werewolves." You shook your head, whilst having found out recently that that was in your blood, there were things that you couldn't bring yourself to do. Killing another human, in any form, was one of them. "I’d never- Look, Gold hired me to make sure that the wolves- that any animals don't create havoc or ruin his land o-or affect farmland." You clicked your gun back into its holster as it clearly wasn't being any use in calming anyone down. In fact, you were just getting more and more flustered as more questions were fired at you.

"Sure, that's what he told you." Henry got increasingly agitated, "You know you shouldn't kill anything. Don't you know who Ruby-" Emma quickly stood up and spoke over Henry.

"Okay, okay, enough chit-chat. Henry, let's get you to school." She gave him a look and left enough money to cover the food and drink on the table.

"But-"

"Henry, now." She clicked her fingers and Henry sighed in defeat before picking his bag up. He gave Ruby an apologetic look and just looked at you, contemplating what to say as he walked past. Whatever it was got interrupted by his mother as she practically pulled him out of the now empty Diner, "Faster, Henry."

You watched them leave in confusion before turning to Ruby, "Babe, I-"

"I don't want to talk right now." She turned away from you, clearing Emma and Henry's table. You frowned and reached out to your girlfriend's side, pulling her gently to you. She swatted you away and you swore she almost let out a small growl, "Y/N, just leave me alone!"

You shook your head, "I don't understand, I practically do the same job as Emma but just with animals rather than people. I found something I'm actually good at Ruby! Why can't you be happy for me, I-"

"Was your Mother a werewolf hunter? Back in the Enchanted Forest. Was she a Hunter?" She interrupted you, her voice increasing in volume before she slammed the plates down behind the counter. "Did she hunt animals?"

You hesitated before finally nodding, "Yes." You admitted and Ruby scoffed.

"So it's 'in your blood' to kill animals, is it? To kill-"

"No! I mean... yeah. But-"

"Then why do you need a gun, a silver gun? With silver bullets? Used to kill werewolves. Why do you need weapons if you don't kill?"

"Okay, well, on the odd occasion, I've had to-"

"Great!" She let out a loud sarcastic laugh and shook her head.

"But only when it's really necessary. And I told you I don't kill people! Okay? Whatever form they're in, I will not kill a person, okay? I'm not my mother, Ruby-"

She shook her head and clenched her teeth, "It turns out there is still a lot I don't know about you Y/N." She whispered, looking you dead in the eye as she spoke.

"No, that's not fair. There are things about you that I don't know too. There are still things about everyone I thought I knew that I don't know because of this stupid curse but we're working it out!" You reasoned, willing yourself not to think the worse about this situation. There was a horrible silence as you waited for her to say something. Anything. And when she finally did, it wasn't what you had expected at all.

"I don't think I feel safe around you, Y/N." She backed away from you ever so slightly and refused to look you in the eye. For the first time you've known Ruby, she genuinely looked frightened. Of you.

Your stomach dropped at her confession and you shut your eyes for a few moments and took a second to breath. "If this is about the gun then I only have it to protect you, Ruby. It's to protect everyone. I love you. I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. I just want to protect you."

"From what?"

You clenched your fists and slammed a hand on the counter, tired from repeating the same thing. If Ruby had been wanting your answer to change each time to something she would rather hear then she was out of luck, "From rabid animals." You cried out, getting angry at such a stupid fight over such a tiny thing.

"What? Animals like me, you mean?" She asked, contrasting your loud anger with a quiet fear. Whilst her eyes looked terrified she attempted to make herself look brave and confrontational by jutting her chin up slightly and staring you down but you knew her too well.

The anger inside of you quickly dissipated and you slowly approached her, treating her like one would a spooked horse or a trapped rabbit. "What do you mean by that?"

"Y-You said that there were things you don't know about me and that's true." You watched as she began to crumble, her eyes starting to become tearful. "I'm a werewolf. Your kind hunt me and my kind." She finally croaked out.

You both stood and stared at each other over the counter for a few minutes, not quite knowing what to do. There was a part of you that couldn't believe you didn't know, that she hadn't told you. A whole other part started to recognise the little signs that you had slowly picked up on but stubbornly ignored.

The tiny bell at the top of the door to Granny's rung, knocking you out of your thoughts and back into reality. Now that the diner was no longer empty you couldn't stay there any longer. You need an explanation but it couldn't be done there and besides, there was something more important you had to do first, "I have to go." You finally spoke up, not quite daring to look into Ruby's tear soaked eyes and instead keeping your head down and walking out the door.

Driving around for hours to clear your head eventually led you to the Sheriff's department, knowing Emma would be there by now. You ran in, throwing your gun on the table and crossing your arms as you stared down at the blonde woman. "How long did you know who my girlfriend was?"

Emma sighed and grimaced slightly, "She told you?"

"Mhmm." You flopped down in the chair opposite Emma and started chewing your lip. There was a long pause between the two of you, seeing as you were completely absorbed with your own thoughts.

Emma took a deep breath, eventually choosing to cut off the silence, "What are you going to do?" You shook your head slightly.

"I was born to be a Hunter, Emma." You noticed her raise an eyebrow slightly and so you hastened to add, "But I love Ruby. So much." You'd never do anything to hurt her, that much you knew.

"You're going to return the gun to Gold?"

"No." You shrugged, "I'll lock it up someone safe, I suppose. So no one can make use of it."

Emma put her hand on your shoulder and smiled fondly, "You made the right decision."

You sat in silence for a bit, Emma leafing through some paperwork as you tried to get your brain to absorb everything that had happened in the last few hours, "I won't miss the long nights, that's for sure." You eventually said, only just realising you were technically now out of a job. "Anyway, I should go. Thanks Em, for helping me figure out what's right."

Just before you made your way out of the door, Emma stopped you in your tracks by shouting after you, "Hey, Y/N, if you need a job we might just have an opening here for you. Can't guarantee you'll never work a night shift again, but you can keep on protecting Ruby and the town. You can just do it a bit more legally." You slowly turned back to your friend and smiled, shooting her a quick nod.

"You're on, Swan."

----------------------

It was gone noon once you were finished at the police station and you knew Ruby would have finished her shift by now so you swung by your shared apartment, hoping that she would be there.

You were torn between knocking and just walking straight in but ultimately chose the latter option, scared that if you were to knock then she wouldn't answer to you.

"Ruby?"

"I don't want to talk to you." A voice drifted from your left. You hesitantly licked your lips and followed her voice.

"Ruby-" You turned the corner to see her curled up on the sofa beneath a heavy red blanket.

She shook her head and you knew well enough to stop talking. "I just... I cannot believe you'd do this! That you would do something so stupid and so--" 

"I quit." You shrugged and took a step closer to your girlfriend.

"What?" She asked, head turning to the side slightly. You clenched your jaw at the pain you had caused within her.

You paused, formulating what you wanted to say before plunging into it. "I'm not a hunter anymore. I quit. I want nothing but to keep you safe and if you don't feel that way with me then I'll change."

Ruby stood up and shook her head, "I don't understand."

"I'd do anything for you. I love you." You finally wrapped your arms around Ruby's waist and pulled her into you, hovering your lips close to hers, "I'm sorry."

The smile on her face grew as she gazed into your eyes and her hands hovered over your hips. She begun to place a trail of kisses from your jaw down your neck. Ready to take it further, you pushed her slightly towards the sofa and tugged slightly at her red shorts. However, before you had the chance, Ruby pulled away and took a deep breath.

"What?" You asked, fearing you had done something wrong.

"What are you going to do now?" She asked, and you could still sense a dash of emotion reappearing from earlier. You pushed to do anything to clear her doubt about you.

You hooked your fingers in the belt loop holes of her shorts and winked, "What do you think about me in uniform?"

Ruby bit her lip and smirked, pushing you down on the sofa, "I think I could get used to the idea."

[konako]

they make each other laugh.

OUAT's Beauty and The Beast, but gay and good and with chemistry

[heddagab]

Were we really friends? Yeah, we were. Then tell me the truth. Before I was brought here, I was hurt. I was bleeding, and then this man came. And he… He healed me. Then, I saw him hold a ball of fire in his hands. How… How is that possible?! The nurse said that the tranquilizers can give you wicked nightmares. No, I know what I saw. And I don’t need any more tranquilizers or- Belle… Don’t call me that. Why does everyone keep calling me that?

[whoruntheworld-lesbians]

I feel like the ouat universe is so messed up age gaps barely even matter in relationships except dear god don't you dare ship adult henry with any of the townspeople

[jackiequick]

Once Upon A Time OC ✨

Royal Return —> Cadence Nolan 🎯

Full Name (given by the royals & Rumpelstiltskin) : Princess Mi Amore Cadenza aka Cadence Nolan

Cursed names: Skylar Lane, Annie Marley Danvers

Nicknames: Cadence, Cadie or Cady, Denza, Sunburst, Princess, The Littlest Charming, Princess Charming

Height: 5’6

Birthplace: The Enchanted Forest

Family: Her parents and one of her brothers are dead. Her big brother Prince Charming, David Nolan is alive. And so is everyone else is alive.

Seasons: 1-7

Face Claim: Melissa Benoist

Half of the Family Tree —> Her brother David, sister in law Snow, niece & nephew Emma & Neal. Her grandson Henry and sister/half mother in law Regina. (This family is a complex one ngl but theses are the main ones)

Friends: Ruby, Regina, Rumple, Hook, Jefferson and others she meets along the way. Of course, you also the The Dwarfs aka Grumpy and his family of brothers.

Romance: Ex-boyfriend, Rider. Other than that currently single and ready to mingle.

The titles she takes on: Princess, Farmer, Knight, Retriever and on occasion, Pirate.

Her most notable title is: Princess & The Pea, it’s why she can be so annoyed and stuffy sometimes. Also it’s why she tends to challenge people on deals and play on both side of an agreement. Never judge a person by their momentary appearance.

Relations: She works for Rumple and Evil Queen, search & retrieving items for them for a good price in return. Pretending to be a princess and warriors for the royal family she placed into with her older brother David.

—-

When Cadence became a princess due to the deal with Rumple, she never thought it would somewhat boring. Sit still, look pretty and pretend to be romanticized with the other royals of the kingdom, she wanted to know more than just stay in the castle walls. Which lead her to find Rumple and challenge him a deal for a high rank, he didn’t need a maiden of any sort, due to him already having Belle, but he did need someone to search the forests and retrieve items for him.

And Cadence agreed shortly after. Two days later she returned with a mirror ball from Wonderland and Rumple was more than impressed. The man was happy and knew she will be a very helpful asset. His Royal Retriever he liked to call her.

Eventually he started to work with her, giving her a special necklace and bracelet for she can always find her way back. Her dresses were more practical clothes on occasion for being on the field.

She met more than a few people on her travels and one of them being Snow White. In which a week later, Bandit Snow White met her brother Prince Charming.

—> Snow nickname her Cadie, short for Cadence. Even called her princess a few times. Little did they know they would be family soon enough..

—-

Time after during the curse came, it was pure chaos and she fought alongside her brother, making sure Emma ended up in the wardrobe safely.

Cadence held Emma in her arms and placed the necklace comfortably around her.

David gasped, “Cadie, that’s your necklace you need it. That how you get around the realms.”

“Emma needs it more than I do. Find her way home.” She repiled placing the baby in the wardrobe with a smile.

David placed a sad smile and kisses his daughter forehead whispering a few words closing the doors.

Both siblings told side by side fighting the guards, sadly they got hurt. Charming more than Cadenza…

Regina arrived with a crazy look on her face as her spell brought everyone to Storybrooke..

—-

In Storybrooke, she was cursed to be a women named Skylar Lane. One of the bakers of the town, always bringing sweet treats and flowers to the people of Storybrooke. Especially to Mr. Gold and Mayor Mills on a daily basis.

She knocked on the door, “Afternoon, Regina.”

She opened the door kindly, “Good afternoon, Skylar.”

She noticed the look on her face and asked if she was okay. Regina explained that Henry was gone, she reassured her that afternoon that he will show up soon. She was dragged to the Police Station by the Mayor to see the cops know where he is.

That’s where she met Emma Swan, trying to help them find Henry with her best friend, Mary Margaret advice. To say Regina was pissed off was a understatement, she just wanted her son and ready to lock anyone up if it meant she can get the job done quicker. Skylar had to be the voice of reason for both sides, telling Regina to stay home while Emma went looking for Henry.

Skylar went to visit a coma patient at Storybrooke Hospital under the name, John Doe, she visited the man very week talking to him, bringing flowers and sweets in hope he would wake up. She felt connected to him, like they were friends or something stronger. Little did she know that’s her big brother (Henry would tell her that tale later). She would play with her bracelet as she spoke and would always leave giving the man a gentle squeeze on his shoulder. But he never woke up..

—> Emma stayed in town, of course. She was glad, especially when the blonde moved in with Mary Margaret because that mean Skylar got to see both women on a daily basis after catching up with Ruby at the Dinner. She became friends with Emma Swan, sharing stores, drinking together and giving each other advice. Skylar always tended to help Emma on cases around town such as the Mary Margaret arrest, Ashley’s situation with Mr. Gold, The issue with John Doe, and so much more.

Stranger things kept happening in the town involving everyone who lived there. Skylar even felt it too, especially when her ex-boyfriend who mothers hated her kept showing up to try and win her back, she stupidly said yes to a date and her ex-boyfriend trying to even kidnap her. Emma saved the day of course.

----

With everything that happened, Skylar felt odd. The shift in the air felt stronger than ever, she picked up on the little things. Words, phases and movements in the town. Especially after hearing Henry Mills talk to her about being a character in his storybook…

Her curiosity was brought to light when she delivered Emma her favorite type of donut to the station, noticing the necklace. Emma shrugged saying the necklace was something she had since she was a baby, however the clasp in the back got weak.

Skylar suggested that she’ll take it to the jeweler, her jeweler being Mr. Gold, for a retighten. Emma heisted for a moment but agreed wanting it back by sundown, at least.

She agreed taking the necklace off her hands noticing the fine details. The rich vintage gold details, the engraved chested green and white diamonds shaped into swirling around one around like a flower shinning around daylight. It reminded Skylar on her very own bracelet, lost in pieces at home. She stepped into Mr. Gold’s shop with a smile.

He was waiting for her, patient for her loyal curious self to walk in. Mr. Gold has been awake from a while now and waiting for her to be. The more people awaken from the curse and not down for the count, the better.

“What can I do for you today, Ms. Lane?” He asked, noticing the necklace and bracelet in her hands with a smile.

“Ms. Swan needs the clasp in the back of her necklace tighten.” She replies simply, handing it to him to examine.

“Ah, I see. And why not take it somewhere else?”

“Because I know you can do the job better and give it a fine cleaning.”

He noticed the look in her eye, something he’s been noticing rather recently ever since her kidnapping. She tried to hide it, most of the time she could cover up the look on her face but like Charming, David Nolan, she couldn’t.

She sighed, “Miss Swan says that this necklace belong to her, saying that she assumed her parents gave it to her before she was given up..”

“And?” He asked hoping that the real women behind that curse persona would shine though and speak up.

“I have a bracelet that is oddly similar at home..what if..what if, they’re a match? Same jeweler or something. Ever since Emma came, in felt drawn to her..”

“Like love of some kind?”

“No love, like I know her. Her and Mary Margaret act the same way..can you look into it?”

“I need the whole necklace and bracelet to do so.”

She smiled, running off to her small apartment complex searching for the broken bracelet. It was always a rather shatter piece of jewelry, she brought for half price years ago. The green diamonds were missing but the white stayed the same, never fallen off. Skylar return the piece to Mr. Gold and went to continue her day at the diner, working alongside Ruby and being dragged on a case with Emma.

It was a long day, Skylar couldn’t be more tired and out of breath from everything, however she promised Emma that necklace to be returned safely and surely to the loft. Mr. Gold smiled when she walked in, he’s been working on the necklace and bracelet all day. They were freshly tighten, cleaned and the diamonds were engraved the way they should be.

“Y-you fixed them?” She said in awe, gently holding them in her grasp.

“Try them on.” He replies with a smile, standing behind the counter.

“Alright.”

She placed the bracelet swiftly on her wrist as if it shined, feeling a awing source within her and chuckled. Mr. Gold told her again, wear the bracelet and necklace. She hesitated since it doesn’t belong to her, it never has, but she did it anyway. It couldn’t hurt right? It’s just a necklace.

The second Skylar placed the necklace firming on her neck, having the diamonds facing the correct direction and such. She ran her fingers across the jewelry smiling and turned away thanking Mr. Gold about to walk out when she paused. She gasped harshly, a sharp wave of memories and emotions washed over from the moment she was recruited to be a princess to the day she put Emma in the wardrobe.

Skylar blinked tempering with the new found information and looked over her shoulder to see Mr. Gold leaning against the counter with a soft smile.

“Is something wrong, my dear Mi Amore?” He asked as his smile grew seeing the look in her eyes.

It took her a moment to speak until she said, “Nothing Rumple, I think we need to talk.”

—//—

Thank you so much for read this fic! I hope you like it. Remember to like, share and comment

-//-//-//-

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @justanoutlawfic @topgun-imagines @gcthvile @fyeahonceuponatimeocs @msrochelleromanofffelton @drspencereidhotch @t-nd-rfoot @superspookyjanelle @ohgodnotagainn @sherloquestea @mandylove1000 @blackheart-beauty @meiramel @rooster-84 @blueboirick and etc

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Headcanons for being the sister of Prince Charming and what falling in love/dating Red Riding Hood would include...

Your brother has always been so supportive of you and your relationships, all Charming wants is to see you happy so he's happy if you are.

You and David are really close, you tell each other everything so when you start to develop feelings for Red he's so supportive and excited for you.

You and Red never feel like you have to hide your relationship. From the get go, you feel the love from Granny and Charming and you just don't feel the need to hide it.

You start spending more and more time with Red, helping her out with whatever she needs, long walks through the woods with her.

There's never that feeling of awkwardness like there usually is at the beginning of a relationship, the two of you just get on so well and there's no awkwardness, no nothing.

She picks you fresh fruit and flowers from her morning walk in the woods and gifts you them in a little basket when she sees you later that day.

You already know about her wolf side but you don't force her to speak about it until she's ready. After a while, she confides in you that she's still a little worried about her wolf side and doesn't want to end up hurting you. You hold her, telling her that you trust her and you know she won't hurt you.

When you bring Red and Charming together, he welcomes her with a grin and a hug telling her how happy he is that you and her are together. He likes seeing you both together, likes seeing how happy you both are. If either of you need anything, you both know that he will help.

Overall, Charming is just so supportive. "I'm your brother, why wouldn't I be so happy for you for finding your soulmate?"

[bitchinbarzal]

(this is kinda horrible, but the thought is still sad)

gigi and uncle adam are besties, have been since she was three days old.

and ofc as we mentioned, he might use her to pick up girls every once in a while, but that’s besides the point.

once gigi gets a little older, maybe 3,4(?), adam gets with this one girl. and she’s nice, gigi thinks.

at least she was the first time she met her.

two versions past this point:

1. then suddenly, uncle adam doesn’t come over that often. he’s passing on their weekly uncle adam and gigi dates, and he doesn’t watch her favorite cartoon anymore. and finally it rattles little gigi so much, that one night she crawls into luca and moms bed with her favorite stuffed animal clutched in her hands “dada, why uncle ad no love me no more?” with the saddest little pout on her face and luca loses it. is on the phone with adam the morning “dude, i don’t know what changed lately, but all i know is you better get your ass over to my house to watch paw patrol, or else i can’t stop your niece from believing you don’t love her.”

2. the next time gigi comes over to hang with uncle adam, her and the new gf get left alone for a little while, while adam runs to the grocery store. and instead of playing tea party with her (like gigi asked) the new gf jsut ignores her. and then she takes a call. “no, i don’t know where he went. he left me here with a fucking toddler. god kids are so difficult.” and gigi doesn’t really understand, but she knows that wasn’t nice. and so she asks her again “wanna play tea with me” and the new gf loses it. angles the phone away from her mouth and tells gigi to go away, that her uncle adam doesn’t love her as much as he loves her (new gf) and she really needed a new babysitter, because her (gigi) “uncle adam” is “getting real tired of having to hang out with her.”this scares gigi, and she goes to the corner to play tea by herself and cries. when uncle adam gets back, she’s excited for a little while, until she remembers what new gf told her, then she calms down. when mom comes to pick her up, she goes sprinting for the door. mom and adam both think this is a little weird, because usually she’ll fight tooth and nail to stay, unless promised ice cream, but they ignore it. until gigi starts rejecting uncle adam. “ready for another play date g? we’re going to the zoo!” gigi screams “NO!” and runs to hide. and of course this is now getting pretty strange, but adam starts to ignore it, and lean more in to hanging out with his gf. and now a few weeks go by. and gigi misses uncle adam. really bad. like wakes up at 2 am and crawls into luca and moms bed, bad. “momma, i miss uncle ad” “baby you’ve been mean to him, that’s why he hasn’t come around.” “he was a meanie first!” “how was uncle ad mean?” “he doesn’t love me as much as he loves her, and, and he doesn’t want to be with me no more.” now luca intervenes. “honey when did uncle adam tell you this?” “NO- no uncle ad. new gf. she, she said that uncle ad didn’t love me as much as her, and he doesn’t wanna go on our play dates anymore.” luca is up bright and early to go kick adam in the ass and make him apologize (but also has to go early to make sure momma bear wasn’t going to actually beat new gf’s ass for saying that). adam breaks up with her within the hour, but it’s going to take a lot longer than that to get his and gigi’s relationship back to where it was.

nonnie… who hurt you?? (Also I’ve named the girlfriend ruby in this)

So imagine the girlfriend has said all that to Gigi and she’s just sad. She’s so upset and when you come to get her, she sprints into your arms.

This is really unusual because Gigi spends maybe one weekend a month in Columbus with Adam because of his schedule and she’s usually crying and screaming to stay but this time she’s already on-route to the car without her bag or stuffed animal.

Adam comes out to the car to say bye but Gigi is just asking you if she can call her uncle Rut on the way home.

When it’s Adam’s next weekend to have her, Gigi declines the invite and says she’d rather stay with mom and dad. Which hurts Adam a lot he hasn’t missed a Gigi weekend since she was six months old.

Then Adam’s in Detroit playing the red wings and he stops by to watch a game on their day off, Gigi doesn’t want to sit next to him.

Both you and Luca are confused and somewhat concerned, it brings up conversations of has something happened, should you be asking Adam.

Then one night at bedtime Gigi calls on Luca to read her story and when Luca goes to grab his book, daddy loves me she gives him goodnight moon.

“Baby this is Adam’s book”

Gigi is so annoyed she loves this book “No, it’s daddy’s book now”

“Ok, G what’s wrong? Why are you so mad at uncle Adam?”

You’re standing in the hallway listening “He doesn’t love me anymore!”

“Did he say that?” You ask, coming in.

She shakes her head, eyes filling with tears “No! Ruby did, she told me he loves her now not me anymore and he doesn’t like playing with me”

You both let her sleep in your bed for the night, consoling your babygirl’s sobs throughout the night. Her cries making you cry.

“I’ll kill them Luca, I swear to fucking god” is all you said all night. You were beyond angry at both of them, Ruby for doing it and Adam for allowing it to happen.

Luca leaves the bed early morning to call his brother and explain the situation, much to adam’s surprise and anger. He breaks up with Ruby over the phone as he’s half way to Ann Arbor.

When he gets there, he finds your car to be the only one in the driveway and he’s a little frightened.

When he comes in, calling out for someone he sees your angry face staring at him as you’re soothingly gigi to sleep for her nap.

“You’ve got some nerve fantilli”

“I didn’t know!” He excuses, walking in to the nursery.

“She was heartbroken Adam, she was up all night crying and I… Adam you broke her heart, her first heartbreak and it’s her uncle who broke it”

That kicks Adam right in the gut.

He sees that she’s not asleep yet and he points to her “Can I?”

Typically, you would say no but she was heavy and your arms were sore so you passed her off and left to make lunch.

There, Adam stood holding her just like she was a baby once again and he mumbled the words to Goodnight moon to her. When she finally fell asleep he kissed her head and whispered “I’m so sorry Princess”

[goosin-around]

This is so weird but I have so many headcanons about ouat and social media (mostly regina) so heres a lovely little list

people kept texting like they were writing a letter and it bothered Henry so bad he hosted a "learning how to text" session

Rumple and Granny both refused to attend

Regina went and still types like shes from last century but now she awfully misuses abbreviations and slang terms

Emma and Ruby are tiktok feins like they are so annoying

zelena adores AITA posts on tiktok with subway surfers gameplay

she regularly gets banned for offensive language and is on her 7th account

Emma tries to relate to Henry by using tiktok brainrot terms and he hates it

Snow and David have a joint spotify account and they argue daily about who gets to use it and when

they totally could get separate profiles but the refuse

Regina made a family life360 group and snow went ballistic when she got added and refuses to let Regina forget about it

belle is so deep into booktok

hook has an insane tiktok following because they think he's a pirate cosplayer

henry tried his best to explain his family tree on tiktok without explaining the curse and it does not go well

Ruby makes tiktoks following the swanqueen journey and people love it

Emma tried very hard to get Regina on social media but she ended up regretting it when Gina started commenting mean things on the charmings lovey dovey posts

(and dirty things on all of emmas)

the one and only tiktok post regina made on Henrys account got millions of likes

Emma makes a tiktok account for the sheriff's station and Regina doesn't know about it to this day

granny forces ruby to advertise the dinner and it is the worst video ever

(yk the one on youtube where ruby tells us to ask if theres avacado? imagine that but worse)

Regina had a flip phone and an ancient computer until Emma forced her to upgrade

Baby neal is a total and complete ipad kid (so is emma lets be honest)

henry hates the fact neal has an ipad with a passion; regina and him regularly send the charmings articles about the dangers of technology on youth)

regina claims to not have any socials and is a strong believer that its bad for you, but she secretly has accounts to keep an eye on henry and to watch horse videos

[themattress]

“Remember, kids, if you’ve got a racist grandparent who espouses negative views toward an entire group of people, then you’d better listen to them because they’re right! Some entire groups of people are just collectively evil and can never be trusted!” - Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken

If there’s no discourse about this now, then I suspect there will be soon once more people see or hear about this movie because good lord. For those who don’t get it, the context is that in the film the main character Ruby discovers that she’s actually kraken royalty and this of course creates generational angst between her and her mother and grandmother because everything’s gotta have generational angst in it these days. She is told by her grandmother that mermaids, the long-time enemies of the krakens, are all evil and untrustworthy sirens who manipulate people and seek domination over humans. Ruby also befriends a mermaid named Chelsea, who specifically calls attention to this feud between the two species and specifically says that she wants to put a stop to it with Ruby’s help. And so Ruby naturally says “screw your bigotry, Grandma; I’m standing by my friend even if she’s a mermaid”.

......Which leads to the inevitable third act “reveal” that Chelsea was actually manipulating Ruby the whole time in order to acquire a source of power, doesn’t actually desire peace between the species, and just wants to assert domination over humans as is her kind’s wont. 

Look, if the bullshit about krakens and mermaids was not present in the movie, then despite what a hackneyed obvious “twist villain” scenario this is I still would have accepted it because it would just be an isolated incident between two individuals. Without the species feud, you could just freely respect Ruby for having such an open heart and positive nature, and freely hate Chelsea for remorselessly taking advantage of that for her own self-serving agenda.

But because this occurs against this specific backdrop, the movie is flat-out saying that racism is justified and that the teen protagonist should’ve listened to her racist grandmother! All mermaids ARE evil, untrustworthy sirens who manipulate people and seek domination over humans, and Ruby was a total dumbass to dare to believe otherwise about Chelsea!

Imagine if in The Little Mermaid, Ariel is exposed as a mermaid, Prince Eric immediately reacts with disgust before he and his followers harpoon her to death before cooking and eating her bottom half. Guess King Triton was right, all humans are heartless barbarians!  

Or imagine if in Luca, the townspeople accept all of the sea monsters at the end, only for the sea monsters to murder them all in their sleep and lay waste to the town. Guess all those fearful superstitions about sea monsters were accurate and should have been listened to!

Or imagine if in Zootopia....oh heck, do I even need to give this example?

If you think I’m overreacting here, then just swap everything said about mermaids in the movie and replace “mermaid” with “Jew”. Chelsea’s Jewish now. Ruby has the audacity to believe that her Jewish friend isn’t some heinous caricature made of her people, only to learn that actually that caricature is spot-on, so from now on she will never trust a Jew again and will accept her position defending humanity against the evil Jews. Sounds fucking horrible when I put it that way, doesn’t it? I recently said that it’s a good thing that kids have recently been getting more stories calling out how wrong prejudice is, so to see a movie aimed at kids that is actively justifying and encouraging prejudice is mind-blowing in the worst way possible. Who the Hell signed off on this? Did nobody stop to consider the unfortunate implications? Did they think making Chelsea a caricature of a pretty, popular, two-faced Mean Girl justified applying that characterization to her entire species? Or was this Jeffrey Katzenburg being a petty bitch (again) over the fact that The Little Mermaid was being remade without him and he just wanted to stick it to Disney? Whatever the case, I’d recommend giving this movie a pass.

[konako]

an alternate universe of an alternate universe? what the fuck is going on in the rlh, bless you and screw canon material ;)

WHAT THE FUCK IS WDC:BB? (it's complicated)

Hohooh, this will be fun. Let me try to explain how this happened in the simplest of ways, without being put in virtual jail. As it's truly this:

It all started back in 2021. When we were still young, naive and pure....

The Ruby Lucas Appreciation life was seeing a resurgence thanks to some maniacs out there somewhere. Gifsets were flowing, asks were coming in, ideas were brewing.

The domino pieces were being placed...

Anon sends me a message about a trope they like. I agree. I imagine Red Queen in that trope. Kat (@lovecanbesostrange) sees the vision.

A writing demon takes over Kat's body. She writes a fic.

Safe Cage is born.

Unrelated to that (somehow)

Anon sends me a message to share a fun fact about a college football team with an interesting name. I reply with a silly idea for a story. As you can see in the replies under the post, Kat and I went mad again.

The Ruby Lucas Harem Server is created.

RRCAU is born.

It doesn't stop there...

RRCAU is developed over three years of collaboration and compatible unhinged behaviour. The story grows, we uncover the backstory, the supporting characters, the dynamics, the many different developments... It's a complete story.

But see. Kat has been cursed with a fantastic, fruitful imagination...

We had a habit of taking stories and imagining "What-Ifs" to some scenarios (because we struggle with definite decisions when it comes to plot, and we like to experiment! who doesn't?). It was fun to think of what could have been different and how that change would affect the larger story.

Soon enough, Kat had a thought: What if, instead of changing an event in the later parts of the story, we changed it in the very beginning?

What if Ruby's miserable up-bringing in a trailer park with a passively neglectful mother... was WORSE?

What If: Ruby was raised in troubling poverty by a physically, verbally and mentally abusive, constantly intoxicated mother?

Worse!RRCAU is born.

Still not connected to that (Palpatine has returned)

Anon sends me a message about Regina wanting people to kneel. I reply with a joke about Ruby being eager to kneel, so they work as a couple.

Kat sees that. She adds to that. She chooses violence. And she writes about it.

DRK AU is born.

These three AUs lived together in harmony. (Ruby disagrees. She keeps getting fucked over).

Until a 4am thought attacked.

Narrator: she did think mean things.

We.... thouroughly fucked Red over this time. Meticulously. We thought nothing of it. Torturing Red was routine. It was for fun! A 4am angsty brain fart!

But then the scary thing happened: it started to make sense.

There was no coming back from there. The story took over. We had no power over it. It had power over us.

WDC combined the three big stories that contributed the least with the rent in our heads:

Worse (Worse!RRCAU) brought the world without magic and the usual translations that came with it. Along with the setting, it brought the feeling of Red's early life and how it shaped her to be accostumed to abuse. Dark (DRK AU) brought the torture, the body mods, the calculated disfiguration of Red and the need for a domestic life that would attempt to heal it. Cage (Safe Cage) brought the most important: Corrupted Red Snow. Red as Snow's weapon. The manipulation, the abuse, the years and years of conditioning, lying, training, until Red was no longer a person, but a monster to serve Snow's needs. Originally, it also brought Regina, as the opposition to Snow's force, and the person that stepped in at the right time to rescue Red.

It was clear. It was obvious. It was meant to exist.

Art was made.

And something that's important to note: in WDC, Red is kind of the bad guy. She's Snow's Bodyguard, Guard Dog, Pet. She has no agency, and she does whatever Snow orders her to do.

Including severely hurting Belle.

The way that Red hurt Belle is critical to WDC. (Don't worry, I won't go there). It's a major part of Red's story, and a defining moment in Belle's development. The trauma was even responsible for the unearthing of a new ship: Kansas Beauty. A relationship that began in, of all places, a mental health facility.

It was a fascinating story. A vessel to some dark, dark thoughts. It was to be kept in a secret alley, to never see the light of day (much like WDC!RED—). I failed at that one job, but... whatever. Anyway!!

We explored other stories, parallel to that. We have the range. (While confined to the Red Snow spectrum...) We thought of different things...

Then. Kat thought more thoughts.

And I indulged her with a list of possibilities to fit that desire. Among which there was:

Kat had even more thoughts.

This change took us to a similar place, with a similar brain wave. (It happens often)

And.... yeah..... This had some... unforseen consequences.....

↓

This is where we are.

[sugar-glaze-donut]

Hiiiii i loveeee your writing sooo much.

Can i request a headcanon of Aruji-sama who is always seen completely shut their eyes.

because they feels their eyes was weird or something like that,turns out they have very beautiful eyes when they accidentally opened their eyes

maybe their eyes was like Athanasia de Alger Obelia from who Made me a princess :D

Sorry if my grammar is strange, English is not my first language:')

Hello anon! I absolutely love your idea! I don't read manhwa very often, but I understand where you're going :D

Aruji-sama always has their eyes closed (like our beloved doctor, Lucas 🍷) was actually an idea I had in mind a while ago, so I'm really happy someone has the same thoughts as me!

Also don't worry about your grammar! I admire the fact that you're trying your best to learn English as a second language <3

Unfortunately, I don't read manhwa so I don't know who Athanasia is, so I hope it's ok if Aruji-sama in this world has ruby red eyes like Muu! (They also wear colour contacts on some occasions!)

Now without further ado, let me show you my headcanons of an Aruji-sama who is insecure of their eyes~

⚠️Warnings!⚠️- Probably OOC Berrien, Angst near the end with fluff and a whole ass fanfic at the end written by yours truly :3 {headcanons + mini story under the cut!}

Arrival

When you first came to the palace, everyone thought it was weird that you always had your eyes closed.

Sure, they have Lucas, but it's not like he has his eyes closed when he does his experiments or when he's fighting angels.

The butlers didn't question you, of course, thinking it might be something related to your family traditions or culture from your world.

But Muu... oh yes, our beloved cat butler asked you. He couldn't help it! His curiosity got the best of him, and he wanted to do anything to help you.

By the first few chapters of Episode 1, only Muu knows your insecurities and troubles about your eyes (or so you thought). He knows that you constantly want to open your eyes to see the beauty of the world, but you struggle to get past your insecurities and in the end, fail to do so.

From that moment on, Muu decided that he would be your trusty guide feline! Whenever you go to parties or town, imagine him walking by your side hissing at any stranger who seems to have ill intentions to you.

Or just carry him around like how the evil stepmother from Cinderella does and he'll tell you directions.

🐾 ▪️ 💍 ▪️ ❤️ ▪️ 💍 ▪️ 🐾

Random townsfolk 🧍: Hey! Master of the Devil Butlers! Come here-

Muu 🐾: *insert snarling sounds* GRR >:(

Random townsfolk🧍: EEEEEKKKKK! GET YOUR FUCKING CAT YOU-

Aruji-sama ❤️: *eyes closed with a soft smile* Don't worry, Muu doesn't bite (๑^ᗜ^๑)

Muu 🐾: *snarls even more*

Random townsfolk🧍: YES HE DOES!

🐾 ▪️ 💍 ▪️ ❤️ ▪️ 💍 ▪️ 🐾

From your perspective

Your first instinct was to tightly shut your eyes when you heard Berrien's voice when waking up. (he saw your eyes but he didn't question it, since colourful eyes are pretty common in the Akuneko world)

You don't remember putting your colour contacts in, so you had to rely on your hearing and "Instincts" to know what's happening. Taking small peeks at the butler's clothes and listening carefully to their voices wasn't much of a hassle. You were used to it after all.

You weren't able to see any of the butler's faces though. As it would mean making eye contact with them, and you don't want to do that for now - (This is important later near the end of this post! <3)

Everything went smoothly until Muu decided to ask about your eyes. It was to be expected, so you told him. And WOWZA, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT! MUU ALSO HAS UNIQUE EYES!

Now you and Muu bond over the fact that you both have the same eye colour.

Like in the "Arrival" paragraph above, Muu will be your guide feline and you carry him around everywhere at parties like another set of eyes.

🌹 ▪️ 🎀 ▪️ ❤️ ▪️ 🎀 ▪️ 🌹

A servant at the party🤵🏻: Pardon me, but this party does not allow pets

Aruji-sama❤️: Oh? Oh no, Muu is my other pair of eyes.

Servant🤵🏻: huh-

Aruji-sama❤️: I cannot see without my eyes... so I have Muu as a replacement for my eyes *places a hand on their forehead like a damsel in distress*

Servant🤵🏻: ...why is every noble I meet so weird?

(you and Muu have a lot of fun creeping out the nobles)

🌹 ▪️ 🎀 ▪️ ❤️ ▪️ 🎀 ▪️ 🌹

Reveal

...and of course, time for the big reveal! Hurray!

At this point, let's say that you were able to retrieve your colour contacts from your world, and started using them in the Akuenko world.

It could end up in one of these two scenarios. Both depending whether or not you have your colour contacts on.

The first one is when you DO have your colour contacts on. A scenario where Berrien confronts you about your eyes. Since he was the first person to "see" your eyes without the colour contacts when you first arrived (as said in the "From your perspective" headcanons above). He probably thought it was weird that your eyes were a completely different colour than it was before.

The second scenario is when you DON'T have your colour contacts. This is when you and some other butlers run into some angels or are ambushed by townsfolk. You need to open your eyes to dodge, don't you? Or to even express your emotions!

Imagine the butlers (apart from Berrien if he accompanies you, but that'll lead to the first scenario) being confused as hell!

(in this part, I will only do the first scenario. I might do the second scenario if someone wants me to do it ;))

✨ ▪️ 💎 ▪️ ❤️ ▪️ 💎 ▪️ ✨

Scenario 1 - Answers & Acceptance

"Pardon me, Aruji-sama..." You turned around to see Berrien at the doorway of your room carrying a tea set for 2, and some pastries. He walked further into the room, his head low and facial features slightly tense. "I hope you don't mind me intruding but, I would like to ask you something."

You blinked a couple of times before tilting your head, welcoming Berrien to sit down on the chair next to you (But he obviously refused, due to "complicated butler and master boundary manners").

"Is something the matter? If something's troubling you I'll try my best to help." You felt the air becoming tenser, especially when the only sound was Berrien pouring tea into your teacup.

"Oh no, it's none of that Aruji-sama." Berrien passed you your teacup filled with hot tea. "Please don't take any offence to this but..."

He hesitated. Was this truly the best time to ask? He was curious about the fact that your eyes once shone a beautiful ruby red, turned into an entirely different colour. He was curious about why you constantly had your eyes closed on the first few weeks of arriving at the mansion. He was curious about why Muu suddenly became protective over you.

He was simply curious.

'No Berrien. It's just a simple question! Surely Aruji-sama will forgive me...' Berrien thought as he gripped his gloved hands tightly behind his back. 'But... there must be a reason, no? I shouldn't over-cross Aruji-sama's boundaries! They should tell us of their condition when they're comfortable-..."

He eventually gave in to his curiosity.

"...were your eyes always this colour?"

You flinched at that, which wasn't Berrien's expected reaction from you.

"O-oh my, what do you mean?" you craned your neck to look at your teacup to avoid Berrien's gaze. The reflection of your eyes... no, your colour contacts stared back at you in the shimmering liquid.

"I- It's not that your eyes aren't beautiful! Believe me, your eyes are magnificent!" Berrien felt saddened even by looking at your guilt-ridden face. "I just... remember seeing your eyes in a beautiful shade of red when you first came to the palace."

...

Beautiful. That was a word you heard often.

But it never paired up with the word "eyes"

A monstrosity, they used to call you. A monster, a demon, a villain. All because of your ruby red eyes.

They would all say

"A villain like you should never have a happy ending."

If only you could change your eye colour...

And so you did. By wearing colour contacts with the colour society deemed "normal", you were able to blend in perfectly.

Not up until... now

Long story short, you wore a suspicious ring, got yeeted into another world, got into a mess of Angels V.S. Devils V.S. Townsfolk, and found a newly acquired friend where you bonded over having the same eye colour.

For once, you genuinely felt like you lit in.

After a while, you were able to return to your world. You frantically searched for your colour contacts and rushed to return to the other world.

The moment you stepped into the palace with your newly acquired colour contacts to surprise your butlers, you saw them.

Their beautiful, vibrant eyes. Each of them has different colours. Amber, soft pink, heck some of them had mixed eye colours!

It made you jealous really. Being able to show your eyes without being judged...

If only you knew about their colourful eyes, you would've shown up one day with your eyes fully open.

But now you can't. You lied to them about your eyes. You don't want them to hate you for lying.

But as of the moment now...

"I just... remember seeing your eyes in a beautiful shade of red when you first came to the palace."

What is this feeling? Sadness? Guilt? Shock?

No, no... this must be relief, a feeling you've longed for all these years...

...

"You... you think my eyes are... beautiful?" your voice wavered, and tears threatened to spill into your tea

"Aruji-sama?" Berrien squeaked in surprise and rushed beside you. "Please don't cry! There's no need to be ashamed of them, I think they are beautiful!"

"really...?"

"I am very sure, and I believe the others will love them too."

Your sniffles stopped, but not completely as you looked up.

"You're not mad that I lied to you?"

"Oh stars, I will never be mad at you Aruji-sama. It is our job to make you feel welcome here in the palace. No matter what form you take, we butlers will forever love you"

You started to cry again, but this time, you didn't seem sad.

"Thank you" you managed to say between sobs, and gave Berrien a big smile.

✨ ▪️ 💎 ▪️ ❤️ ▪️ 💎 ▪️ ✨

🍩Side note for anon: Hii anon! Sorry that it took me so long to complete this. (THIS REQUEST WAS FROM LAST YEAR AND I STILL HAVE SOME REQUEST PILED UP IN MY INBOX 😭). I hope you liked the little story I added at the end :3🍩

Last edited - March 4th 2024 {Please let me know if there are any typos in this post, and I will fix them right away!}

✦ Want to read more of my works? Come and take a look at my Masterlist! Have a nice day, toodles! ✦

[hawkinsindiana]

we won’t be like them

ALMOST PARADISE: PART FOUR - CHAPTER EIGHT OF NINE

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 10.4k

a/n: gulp. thanks to ms ruby @stevebabey​ for helping me w the early stages of the shower scene ehheheheheh. YES THERE’S A SHOWER SCENE!!!!!!! warnings for descriptions of blood/wounds, general nondescript nudity, major character deaths, and loooooooooots of physical touch pls enjoy!!!!

masterlist

Steve says your name, breaking through the haze of dread and anxiety that’s overtaken you in the last several minutes. His palms grip your face intently as he finally gets you to focus on him, your wide eyes locking onto his. Despite being back in Hawkins, his palms are still slightly chilled from the freezing temperature of the Upside Down; the longer he spends with his skin on yours, you can feel yourself warming him up. He looks scared, panicked even.

Steve’s voice is firm and a bit stern with every ounce of his conviction pouring out into his words, “He’s a smart kid, okay? We’re gonna find him.”

All you can manage is a small nod. Your throat is dry. You can tell Steve’s desperate to keep a level head, but he’s bursting at the seams, emotion showing even though he doesn’t mean it to.

The one time you weren’t with the teens and this happens.

You two agreed that they’ve grown more capable; if there was anywhere your skills would be needed, it was with Nancy. It wasn’t her who you should’ve been helping.

You wished her luck as she landed on the sidewalk outside the RV with Creel House a few yards ahead. If either you or Steve had been there to protect them, this never would have happened. Whatever it was that went wrong may have been prevented; the plan wasn’t great, but it wasn’t terrible. That doesn’t matter anymore.

You left her to die. You swore to yourself that you’d keep her safe and you left her to fend for herself.

Your brother’s missing. He’s not at the RV like he promised he’d be.

A gentle tap on your face brings you back — you hadn’t noticed you’d fallen into your thoughts once again. Steve’s eyes continue to bore into yours although you’re unable to give any further acknowledgement. He swallows harshly; you’re in shock. He can’t help you any further right now.

Regretfully, Steve removes his hands from you and rises from his knees. He doesn’t want to leave you. 

“Just… just stay right here, okay? Don’t move,” He says, his fingers reaching out to the axe in the dirt beside him, “I’m gonna help them look. I’ll be right back.”

Steve presses a firm kiss to the skin above your eyebrow and vanishes around the corner of the RV, leaving you to sit alone on the steps that lead inside the vehicle. In his absence, you can hear the sporadic shouts of your brother’s name from Robin and Nancy; Steve’s voice joins theirs. Emergency sirens grow in the distance.

You can’t pull your gaze from the red glow. The crack in the earth shredded the landscape with ease, destroying many of the trailers in its wake. You wonder if any of those families survived — it’s not likely they did. The sky, while dark from the late hour, fades into a maroon haze that rises from the gate and the surrounding tree line. What does the rest of Hawkins look like? Is your mom safe? The Wheelers? The Sinclairs?

The Munson’s is gone. You imagine it splintered to pieces and was sucked into the gate as it appeared, torn apart in the same way Creel House did with the four of you inside. You barely escaped with the others. The chimes of the grandfather clock didn’t sound how you expected, but rather like haunting bell tolls from Hell, marking the end of so many lives. It was an awful sound; it’s one you’re not sure you’ll ever forget.

Lucas and Erica were inside Creel House too. Dustin and Eddie would’ve been in his trailer.

More tears burn your eyes. Your hand rises to your forehead; the spot Steve kissed feels warm. There’s pressure in your chest. You’re still loved. Someone still loves you. You’ve done terrible things and you’re still loved. You left her to die.

A ragged sigh is pushed from your lungs when your lip begins to quiver. Far too many tears have already been spilled, but you can’t seem to find the will to stop. Your feelings have always been big — strong enough that it used to feel like a superpower to experience emotion so deeply. But now, after all you’ve been through, it feels like a curse. Everything feels too big. This level of grief and regret… you’ll have to learn to tolerate it. A section of your heart will need to be carved out to make room. Your failure has cost lives. More blood stains your hands; your palms are already spattered. Maybe this is a feeling you’ll need to get used to.

You’re still loved. You left her to die. Your head hurts.

Despite the thoughts fighting for dominance inside your mind, another voice cuts through the air like a knife through silk — Dustin’s voice. You wonder if it’s a dream or some sick trick of Vecna’s as you see him emerge from the edge of your periphery, a long shadow cast over the ground. It takes you a moment to register him as tangible, then you notice his limp. Immediately, you rise to meet him. You sprint a distance of fifty feet in mere seconds.

Dustin’s the first to go in for a hug; you’re more worried about the state of his injury until you see the tears that track down his face too. You gladly welcome his embrace, your arms settling around his shoulders. Your brother cries harder and some semblance of relief washes over the pair of you — the Hendersons made it out alive. Selfishly, you’re glad others were killed and not him. You instantly feel guilty for that thought.

The thought of another crosses your mind. You’re almost afraid to ask.

“Where’s Eddie?”

Dustin’s breathing comes in disjointed heaves. His voice is clogged from his sobs.

“I h-had to… I just…”

As he struggles to speak, Steve jogs over to the pair of you. A myriad of emotions are etched across his face — relief, fear, and perhaps a hint of anger. You lock eyes as Dustin pushes through his stutters and confirms what you thought.

“I had to leave him there. His body’s s-still in there.”

His body.

More guilt washes through you. Steve’s mouth presses into a firm line and he casts his gaze down towards the ground. A hand smooths over the crease in his forehead, the other still holding the axe tightly. He curses under his breath. 

How many lives did this failure cost?

You squeeze your brother even tighter, one of your palms slipping to cradle the back of his head. You want to take this feeling from him and carry it instead. Dustin sighs a rather deep breath, his words muffled against the fabric of your vest, “Max is gone too, isn’t she?”

At the mention of the girl, your resolve crumbles. Your shoulders sag from the weight of her name, now burned into your mind as a reminder of what more you could’ve done. More tears pool behind your eyelashes; you blink and they fall, pouring down over your face. Your reaction is enough of an answer for him, but not for you. You inhale, knowing that your actions, or lack thereof, took one of your brother’s best friends away from him. You left her to die.

“I’m so sorry,” You mumble. It’s unclear who you’re saying it to, or which death you’re comforting him over. Maybe it’s for everything.

A weight lays across the line of your shoulders; not another moment passes before Steve’s brow is pressing into your temple, his nose nudging the swell of your cheek. His other arm wraps firmly around Dustin as you instinctively lean into his touch, beckoning him closer without retreating from your brother’s embrace. It’s a bit of an awkward position but no one has the mind to care, especially as the three of you come to terms with what’s happened and what’s to come. This is a weight you’ll carry forever.

— 

Steve has a pretty strict ‘no-dust-in-my-car’ policy; tonight, it is completely disregarded. He doesn’t particularly care that Dustin doesn’t wipe his feet off before entering, or that your pants are probably depositing dirt in the passenger’s seat. It is a major sigh of relief to be somewhere familiar — in this case, Steve’s BMW parked in the Maple Street cul-de-sac. You abandoned the Winnebago one street over.

Exhausted doesn’t begin to describe what you’re feeling. Your mind is blank and your body is sore. Everything hurts in one way or another. You can’t tell if you’ll be able to sleep or not, but you know you need rest, preferably with your love curled up beside you.

It takes a few minutes longer than normal to reach the driveway to your home. Roads have already been closed off by police and detours made around the damage. People are hastily packing up their families and clogging up the streets as they abandon their homes — you wish you had the luxury. 

You pull the spare key from its usual place in the light fixture on the porch. The second you insert it into the lock, the door opens from the opposite side; your mother stands before you clad in an obnoxiously fluffy pink robe. She appears to be bouncing between worry, anger and relief, which blooms into unmistakable concern. There’s fresh bruising on your neck and Dustin’s arm is thrown across Steve’s shoulders to keep him balanced. 

You imagine the three of you clad in military green and protective attire must be quite a sight. You feel pathetic. You feel like a child. 

“It’s a…” You pause to clear your throat, which has only grown raspier since your experience at Creel House; you can still feel the tendril constricting your airflow. 

“It’s a long story. I promise we’ll tell yo-”

Before you can finish, your mom pulls you into a tight hug, effectively silencing the excuse you had conjured up on the drive over. Right now she doesn’t care what it was that kept you away so long, she’s just glad you’re safe. It takes a bit of effort to hide your wince as her hand smooths over the wound on your back, but more than anything, it feels good to be home and welcomed by the comfort of your mother’s touch. 

She doesn’t know the things you’ve done; you hope it stays that way.

As she pulls away, her hands shift to hold your face for a moment before switching her attention.

“Oh my boys,” She mumbles, reaching out to greet Dustin and Steve next. She does the same, pulling them both into a tight hug and plants a kiss on each of their cheeks. After they break away, Steve gently leads Dustin back into his bedroom, per his request. All he wants to do is sleep.

You manage to convince your mom that food can wait until the morning, so she nervously darts off to help your brother in whatever way he needs. As Steve exits Dustin’s room, your tired eyes meet and your outstretched hands follow. Instantly, warmth spreads through your veins at his touch; you need more. You lead him along the familiar path from the hall and into your bedroom.

It’s sparser than it used to be, but it’s still a relief to be greeted by the wallpaper you picked in your youth. This space exudes nothing but comfort — even more so when Steve scoops you into his hold the second you enter.

The moment you’re settled with your arms slung around his shoulders and his firmly clutching your ribs, it’s like the both of you melt. A deep cleansing exhale somehow pulls you closer until you’re fairly confident there’s no place where your souls begin or end. For everything that went wrong today, thank god the love you share has endured.

“I’m so fucking exhausted.”

You hum in agreement at Steve’s words, muttered from deep in the bend of your neck. You can feel his tiredness, evident in how he’s practically leaning against you to stay upright. His fingers are slightly trembling against you — a side effect of adrenaline threaded through his veins for too long. Now that it’s finally beginning to wane, all that’s left is the desire to rest. 

You bury your face deeper into his clothes, greedily taking in every ounce of solace you can. While his touch is soothing, you unsurprisingly find yourself hungry for more, craving skin against skin after all these heavy garments have been stripped away. The longer you spend here in each other’s embrace, the more of a necessity it becomes.

“Stay with me tonight. Please.”

Steve huffs a tiny laugh, “You’re crazy for thinking I was going anywhere else.”

You allow the hint of a smile to crack your solemn exterior; it’s stupid how good it feels to hear a bit of humor fall from his lips. Instantly, you feel guilty for enjoying a spark of happiness.

He shifts his hold and pulls away enough to meet your eyes. His exhaustion would be easy to miss if you didn’t know him better than anyone else. A small frown creates that crease between his brow as his hand rises to ghost over your cheek; it’s hard to keep the shiver at bay that comes from him lightly skimming the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone. Your skin is ashy, coated in a layer of dust and splatters of blood, belonging to you and those disgusting creatures. He wants to wipe away all reminders of these horrible few days. An awful knot forms at the bottom of his stomach as he remembers not all of them are going to disappear.

Steve drops his hand to your shoulder before smoothing his palm down the side of your arm, “Go get cleaned up, yeah? I’ll bring your spare clothes.”

You nod once and say a silent thank you in the form of a kiss, gently pressed to the skin above his jawline; your lips prickle against the stubble that resides there. For a moment, you spot the hint of a blush beneath the grime that flecks his face. You smile a bit, for something so simple as a kiss from you still earns a reaction as sweet as your love. 

With that, Steve removes his hands from you and disappears out the bedroom door. The sound of his car keys echoes through the dark living room while you shuffle down the hall; through the walls, you catch the muffled voice of your mother and the quiet sobs from Dustin. That golden feeling in your chest dissipates.

It takes a few seconds for the temperature of the shower to shift from freezing cold to comfortably warm. Before you have the chance to make any additional adjustments, a knock on the door steals your focus. It’s Steve; a case of déjà vu clouds your mind. 

“Here you go, sweetheart,” He whispers as he passes you a small stack of folded clothes. They turn out to be nothing more than one of his long sleeved tees, as well as a fresh pair of socks and underwear. The emergency outfits for situations just like this, hidden away in the back of Steve’s trunk, don’t have comfort in mind. Your eyes meet as you thank him, your voice even softer than his. 

You feel the need to comfort him building up inside your chest, like a compulsion you wouldn’t dare try to defy. He’s done such a good job of protecting and caring for you — you’d like to return the favor. You place your free hand onto his forearm and begin gently guiding him into the room with you; your touch, as well as the delicate gaze that accompanies, serves as a silent invitation he understands through all his weariness. 

As Steve shuts the door behind him, the steam from the shower immediately begins to enhance his exhaustion. Sluggishly, he sets his own bundle of clothes onto the counter beside yours. Before he can reach for you, you’ve already sunk down to the tile, your nimble fingers tugging at the triple knotted laces of his boots. Once you’ve managed to loosen the shoes, he steps out of them with ease; they’re a size and a half too big. The boots are discarded by the door with a heavy thunk. 

Steve’s kneeling as soon as he can and repeats the same action on you. He works quickly to undo your laces and with a hand pressed to the back of your calf for support, he pulls each shoe off. Another heavy thunk near the door. 

A tired silence falls over the pair of you as Steve straightens back up to his full height, minus a heavy sag in his posture. His fingers come to tug on the side of your vest, zippers and velcro ripping as he gingerly eases it off you. He can feel the relief roll through your body in a wave, one less weight on your injured shoulder and before he can continue, you’re repeating the action on him. 

Steve’s chest heats with love as you begin removing his own vest with care; the jacket follows soon after and they’re both discarded onto the tile. He briefly wonders what to do with them — he’d love to have a stupid bonfire and burn it all, along with the terrible memories of the past few days. But your voice in his head reminds him that can’t be done, that there’s a chance you’ll need this armor again. He grows even wearier with that thought. As if you can sense it, because of course you can, your hands press into his skin and bring him back out of his head.

The skirting touches are against the skin of his waist, just below the sweat-soaked gauze your warm fingers placed there not long ago. But now, your hands are calloused and on the brink of blistering, worn from weapon use. Although the sensation is slightly different than he’s used to, Steve would recognize the curious intention beneath those palms anywhere. It’s still you, even if a bit jaded.

Steve lets you work the fabric of his shirt off him. He winces when he twists too far to the side; pain splinters off in all directions from his stomach wounds, irritated and angry after hours of strenuous movement. Your worried eyes dart up to study his expressions, intent on putting him through as little discomfort as you can. Gently, he manages to pull his arms through the sleeves and tugs it over his head with a small hiss. It’s tossed into the pile with everything else.

He’s glad you don’t protest when he begins the same process on you. Once the zipper of your suit is down its track and you start to remove the clothing, a particularly pained whimper escapes you. Steve stills in an instant, waiting for your face to relax before he continues to guide your arms out of the thick sleeves. It takes you a moment to slip out of the fabric now bunched around your thighs; one of Steve’s hands grips your uninjured shoulder for balance as you slide the suit down to the floor. Goosebumps erupt over your bare legs as your skin is exposed to the air, which grows warmer by the minute due to the steam from the shower. It makes it more difficult for you to stay awake, your eyelids drooping even further as you step out of the clothing, pulling your socks off quickly as well. 

Both of your gazes are much different than they normally would be in similar circumstances to this. You’re far too upset, far too angry, far too exhausted to even allow yourselves the luxury of such thoughts. Neither of your eyes carry a single hint of that type of warmth, but a different one instead — the kind that comes from fierce trust and overwhelming love.

Rather than beginning to remove any more clothing, you kneel back to the ground and open the cabinet beneath the sink. After a few seconds of clattering plastic hidden from Steve’s view, you emerge with a rather large first aid kit. Without getting up, you place it onto the countertop and root around for a box of bandages — all shapes and sizes. It pains Steve to think you had prepared for this, knowing that someday you could come home with a wound so terrible that it must be treated with this amount of care, including sutures and hospital grade gauze. He wonders how long it’s been down there, packed away from the prying eyes of your mother so she'd never stumble upon it while cleaning. 

When you finally rise once again, your fingers ghost over his abdomen and the bandage you placed there earlier. Both of your wounds need to be flushed with water and gently washed in the shower, now that you have the proper time. As you begin unwrapping the gauze across his stomach, trying not to focus too intently on the deep shade of maroon that’s seeped through the fabric, Steve exhales deeply in preparation. His eyes screw shut and he blindly reaches behind him to grasp the lip of the sink, a cold sweat starting to trickle down his spine.

“That’s it, Stevie,” You mumble as you continue your tedious work, “You’re doing so good. Last layer.”

What was once alabaster white is stained — hues of red and brown from dried and fresher blood. Steve swears it’s fused to his skin, a whimper breaking past his lips as you lift a scab off when you pull. An apology is already out of your mouth.

You’re frozen, stuck a moment too long scanning the wounds on his abdomen. From the bob in your throat as you swallow, Steve can feel the guilt, sadness, and pain that radiates from you; seeing your lover in this state never gets easier, no matter how used to it you might be. You sniffle quietly.

A soft brush of Steve’s fingers across your cheek forces your eyes upwards. You’re able to blink back the tears as he swipes his thumb over your skin. It’s a silent act of reassurance, but how much it actually does to soothe you, neither of you know.

He shifts his hand to your shoulder, accentuating the movement with a nod of his head and muttering softly, “Turn around.”

You spin on the cool tile at his request, wincing as you begin hiking up the fabric of your tank; the motion angers your shoulder unbelievably so. The sound immediately forces Steve’s hands to rest on top of yours, urging you to stop. He pulls them away, carefully watching your reaction to ensure you go through as little pain as possible while he takes over, sliding it up your torso. The wounds begin to show themselves the higher it rises.

With a tense jaw, Steve grimaces at the sight of your scratched skin, which had been left to rub against your clothes. He wishes there was more he could’ve done for you earlier. He wishes he could’ve taken as much care with your wounds as you did his. The raised marks appear agitated, fresher blood clotting in some areas; Steve stretches the shirt to move your left arm through easily, guiding it over your head so he can slide it off the other without hurting you. He doesn’t want to look at the worst part but it calls to him like the world’s cruelest temptation — the wound is finally exposed to the air as he discards the tank top somewhere behind him. 

Briefly, Steve pinches his eyes closed before forcing them back open; you hear him sigh dejectedly as his gaze lands on the bandage covering where the Demobat had burrowed into your skin. You’ve bled through it over the past day or so, leaving most of the fabric inked red. The only plus side to this is that the adhesive gives much faster when Steve takes a corner in between his fingers. The other hand is holding your hip steady as he peels it away, thumb brushing comfortingly until the bandage is removed; he places the soiled piece on top of his discarded in the sink. 

You haven’t realized how tightly you’ve been gripping the countertop until Steve pulls your hand away from the stone, lightly massaging your palm as he remains intently focused on the deep wound punctured into your skin. Then he finds his eyes roving over your back, eventually landing on the stained band of your bra, now splotched with red from your blood and gray from the parallel dimension. It used to be one of his favorites — he doesn’t know how many times he’s seen this one; the color flatters you so, but now he’s pretty certain he’ll never be able to look at it again. A part of him hopes you feel the same way and toss it out later. He’ll buy you a million more if you do. 

You silently turn in his hold and your gaze is already cast down to meet with his own injuries once more. You want to make it better right now, you don’t want to wait however long it’ll take for him to heal. Why is it seeing them right now that makes your throat ache so much?

You’ve collected your own reminders of what you’ve survived; you’ve learned to accept them as both a blessing and a curse. The thought of Steve looking over his body and seeing twisted skin left behind from one of these nightmares, and being reminded of what left them there, makes your heart crack. You know how painful it is to relive these traumatic moments from your life day after day. You hate the idea of him doing the same, especially when this time was significantly worse than the others. 

Now, you’ll have matching scars given to you by the same awful creatures. For the rest of your lives, they will remind you both of how neither of you could save each other from them.

Steve’s seen you go through this before — watched your body heal after one of these horrific moments in time. It’s incredibly difficult to know there’s nothing more you’re able to do except change the bindings and flush them with water. Twice he’s witnessed a traumatic event indent itself on your skin, as if it isn’t already wired deep into your brain, now unforgettable. 

He knows how terrible this feels, seeing what will be the first scars on his body. Now you’ve got yet another reminder torn into the fabric of your back — the back Steve has run his hands over more times than he can count. Nevermind that you’ve lost it yourself thrice now, you’re still mourning what he should be grieving: the normalcy of his own skin. 

Your face pinches, mind running over the events of the Upside Down, looking for a moment where something could’ve happened differently — a moment where you could’ve saved him from this. But every time, it happens the same way. 

It’s like he can sense everything you’re feeling, almost as if the uncertainty and sadness swirls in the air between you. Your fingers are lightly skimming over the skin of his stomach, absently lost in these terrible thoughts. You need to fix this. 

“Sweetheart,” Steve murmurs gently, his large hands covering yours as he pulls them away and coaxes you towards the shower. Stitches and gauze don’t matter until it’s clean.

“Shower first, yeah?” 

He doesn’t wait for your response, finally beginning to work off his cargo pants that feel a million times heavier than when he put them on in War Zone. Stripping off the final fabric from his body, Steve lets you follow suit, testing the temperature of the water with his hand. Just like the billows of steam that cling to every surface suggest, it’s grown hotter. He adjusts it slightly, the stream warm instead of scalding and he steps in, knowing you’ll be right behind.

The water cascades along his shoulders deliciously, each drop heating patches of skin he hasn’t realized were frigid until now. Steve was worried that the warmth would send him straight to sleep, so he’s relieved that some of his exhaustion washes down the drain as his body is soothed. It’s a deep breath he can finally take. 

Naturally, as you enter after him, Steve shifts back and ushers you under the stream; he’s desperate to let you get some reprieve from the aches of your body. His hands settle on your face, thumbs swiping away the grime and dirt as water spills down your skin. As softly as he can, Steve tilts your head to rinse your hair, his fingers massaging along your hairline for additional comfort.

The water that swirls around the drain starts to change color the longer you spend beneath the shower head; it shifts deep red, then pink, sometimes a brownish gray. Your wounds sting each time the water hits them, discomfort showing on your face with a quick squint of the eye, but it’s a pain you can bear — you’ve felt far worse. With hair now wet enough for his liking, Steve gently spins you with a hand on each arm, letting the stream hit your chest instead. He takes a red bottle from the small shelf and lathers a bit of your shampoo in his palms, the familiar scent mixing with the steam billowing around you. 

His fingers move expertly to work the suds through your wet strands, taking extra time to ensure the shampoo gets to your scalp. You’re practically putty in his hands, sighing lightly as Steve continues washing your hair, head falling backward in bliss from his touch. He’s washed your hair before, but never with this much care and dedication to a deep cleanse. A part of you wishes it didn’t take another encounter with the supernatural to experience it… or any of the significant moments in your relationship you’ve shared recently. 

As he finishes lathering your hair, Steve’s eyes drift to your neck — a bruise has begun to form against the smooth skin, wrapping the entire expanse of your throat in splotches of purple and deep red. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the sight of your face without all its warmth and life. His right hand rests at the base of your neck between your shoulder blades, his fingers gently caressing the injured flesh with a dark gaze, irises holding a restrained rage within.

A shiver — a direct contrast to the steam that envelops you — rolls down the length of your spine as Steve’s cheek brushes yours. His other hand splays out across the expanse of your stomach, keeping you still as his head ducks lower and settles in the crook between your throat and collarbone. Instinctively you lean into him, pressing your face to his hair as Steve stays here for a moment, gratefully taking in the feeling of you standing in front of him. It’s so featherlight that you almost miss it — a kiss pressed to the mark on your skin that he had left there, the only sign of his love on your body. He’s tempted to leave more, to outnumber the other bruises a million to one and make you understand just how thankful he is to have you here with him. 

It doesn’t take very long for you to spin in his hold, your hands seeking to find purchase on him wherever you can. You settle for sliding your fingers into Steve’s hair as his grip on you shifts, his rough palms slipping across your waist to keep you close. His forehead rests against your shoulder as you continue to wet the dark strands as best you can, intent on helping him unwind too. When it’s time to add some shampoo, you have to twist awkwardly to reach the bottles on the shelf. But before you get the chance to, a sound nearly drowned out by the rushing water catches your attention — a small sniffle.

Instantly you snap back to Steve, whose face you take between your wet hands. He doesn’t fight as you gently tilt his head up to see his eyes are rimmed with red. You swallow harshly. You can only imagine how surreal this must be for him; just a couple of hours ago, he was clutching your dying body in the same hands that caress you now. That’s a memory he’s not likely to forget, no matter how much longer he lives for. You hate he has to carry that.

You don’t have any words to comfort him and quite frankly, you’re not sure anything you say right now could be helpful. What he needs is just you — your presence, your touch, and your love. 

Your noses brush as you press your forehead to his and you shut your eyes, taking this quiet moment to do nothing but be present with him. He’s done the same for you so many times it’s hard to keep count. In the darkness, while both the water and Steve warm you from within, he shifts even closer. His lips find yours.

You’ll never grow tired of kisses like this — ones where there’s a swoop in your stomach and every emotion he’s feeling presses into your skin. Through both his hands and his kiss, you understand it all in an instant. The adoration is almost overwhelming, pouring over the edge until you are firm in your belief that it’ll never run out. But the ridiculous amount of affection for you is eclipsed by an unwavering fear. It’s louder than anything else, told by the way his fingers gently dig into the depressions of your ribcage and his lips, which cling to yours until the moment his oxygen runs out. 

Most people wouldn’t associate Steve with being afraid. They couldn’t be more wrong. Steve Harrington is terrified.

There’s a soft desperation that lingers, which you blindly follow into another kiss. Though diluted from the water that glides down your face, the familiar taste of tears hits your tongue; it takes a moment to realize they’re coming from you too. You’re not sure of the exact cause as a deep sadness takes root somewhere in your heart, too far to be inspected further but ever present. But upon understanding the depth of emotions Steve has felt recently, you realize it’s more grief. Grief that for a brief period of time, there was nowhere for his love to go.

It’s not right to say he deserves the world because that doesn’t seem like enough; there’s far more that you want to give him. You want to give him a gift as imperfectly beautiful and impractical as the moon, for someone who holds you this delicately should be rewarded. You’re drawn to him with your tides, even with shipwrecks and skeletons hidden in the darkest parts of your mind. He knows your deepest secrets and he’d still beg to reflect his love in your ocean, even if you’re clouded with storms or calm and clear. 

It’s all meaningless anyways. If you tried to hand him the moon, he’d shrug it off in an instant and give it to you instead. 

When you pull away, both the tears and water are streaming down your faces in a seemingly endless river. Steve feels like you’ve exchanged pieces of your souls. You place a final kiss on the corner of his mouth before you turn in his hold and reach for the shampoo. He presses his lips to your shoulder as you lather the suds in your palms.

This routine continues until you’ve both rinsed and scrubbed the other until all of the grime is washed down the drain. While your bodies may feel clean, your minds don’t have the same luxury. The pair of you retreat with the medical supplies to your room, where there’s no rush to care for your love properly. Steve’s thankful that patching you up goes significantly smoother than last time, even though he does have to stitch your wound closed. It’s rather nerve wracking work, but after a quick refresher from you, he completes it with more confidence. You place large bandages over the bites in his abdomen rather than a continuous piece of cloth so he can be more comfortable. Nearly an hour has passed by the time you’re finished.

—

Under normal circumstances, you’d prop the window open to let the spring breeze filter through the room and cool off your bodies from the warmth of the shower — you decide against it when your ears catch the endless echo of sirens from the town beyond. You should be out there helping, offering your assistance in any way you can to attempt to make up for what you’ve done, but that can wait. 

Steve desperately wants to hold you close, fully envelop you in his arms and pull you on top of him so he can feel your heartbeat thudding along with his own. He needs to feel every inch of your body against his — a reminder that you’re alive, laying here with him in the darkness of your bedroom. His wounds, on the other hand, have a different idea. 

With every movement, his stomach aches; pain shoots through his muscles and forces his face to pinch as he carefully crawls beneath the covers. Even through his pain, he shifts the blankets so you can slip in beside him. The cotton is cool against your skin; it’s the reprieve you’ve been craving ever since finding Eddie holed up in that boathouse last week — the relief of knowing it’s over, that you’ve survived, the same one you’ve felt four times now. 

Even so, it’s not the same. It’s not over. Vecna’s still out there somewhere. Hawkins has been destroyed. It’s only a matter of time before you’re called back into the fray; the pile of battle-worn gear in the corner says as much.

Steve’s mind is running through the same thoughts as he finally settles on his back, eyelashes fluttering closed when he stills. He’s overthinking, worrying obsessively about what’s going to come next and whether or not he has the strength to do this again.

The thoughts shift when your hand rests in the center of his torso, palm pressed over the dip in his ribs where his sternum ends. You crave the closeness too; you wish you could crawl into his arms and sleep forever in his embrace without a care in the world. As you press your forehead to the outside of his arm, Steve removes your hand to clutch it in his, your intertwined fingers now resting against him — his grip is firm and gentle.

As you two lay here, the time on your digital clock passing midnight, Steve finds himself reflecting on what’s to come, more specifically for the two of you.

If he’s honest, a lot of what he said is a complete blur. Only a few details come to mind if he thinks hard enough. What he does remember is that everything he said was the truth — he can feel it deep in his chest. He wouldn’t have lied to you about any of that, not that he’d ever lie to you about anything.

You said yes to it all, too. You said yes to the future, to the-

Oh god.

Suddenly, Steve wonders if you said yes to everything because… well, of course you did. You thought you were gonna die. It would’ve been pretty shitty to turn down something like that from the one you love before charging into battle. He may have accidentally chosen the worst time to spring all that on you.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t want that life with you anymore. On the contrary, he’s certain there will never be anyone else. But wanting to share your future is a big commitment, no matter how in love you are. You’re the one with some semblance of a plan for your life… is he intruding by asking for so much so soon?

Sometimes Steve forgets that he hasn’t known you his entire life. It often feels like he has. In reality, it’s only been a couple of years. You’ve been together for a shorter period of time than that.

His expression immediately creases in embarrassment. You seriously told your girlfriend of fifteen months that you want her to have your kids? 

“Y’know that uh… all that stuff I said? In the woods?”

You raise your head to rest on his pillow, intently studying the anxiety as it forms over his face. The streetlight outside your window lightly washes the pair of you in a yellow hue, even behind the drawn curtains.

You feel your face heat as you recall his beautiful words. You nod once, your damp hair mussing against the pillowcase, “Yeah. What about it?”

He steals a quick glance at you out of the corner of his eye; the thrum of his heartbeat increases in your intertwined hands.

“It’s okay if you… if that’s not what you really want. We thought we were gonna die, y’know, so if you agreed to everything back there and you didn’t really mean it, that’s fine. Okay? That’s perfectly fine because I still wanna live with you and I still love you a-”

“I did.”

While you could’ve let him ramble on and on until his brain was empty, you can’t listen to him doubt himself like this for much longer. Confusion shutters across his face with your interruption, his brow pinching as he turns his gaze back to you. He doesn’t have to speak for you to understand.

An easy smile pulls at your lips. You remove your hand from his and rest your palm on his cheek, your thumb lightly stroking his skin; his lashes flutter from the contact. His fingers curl around your forearm in response.

“I meant it. All of it, baby. I want that too, and I want it with you.”

To reinforce your words, you lower your head and press a kiss to the bare skin of his shoulder. When you pull away, a strange feeling spreads from the imprint of your lips. It travels down his arm and across his chest until his entire body is bathed in what can only be described as pure love, far stronger than anything he’s ever felt, including fear. As terrified as you make him, he loves you much more. Warm relief curls around his heart. You meant it.

He can’t stand it anymore.

“C’mere,” Steve mutters gently, sliding his palm down to your elbow. He lifts the arm trapped between you so you can scooch closer; he doesn’t particularly care about his wounds anymore, not when he needs your skin against him like he needs oxygen. He’s convinced your touch will heal him. With your hand secured against his ribs, you pull yourself flush against him and tuck the other beneath the pillow. Once you’re settled, Steve winds his arm around your waist to avoid your own injuries. It’s awfully snug, but exactly what you’ve been craving.

You think you could gaze into his eyes forever — endless galaxies of rich browns and flecks of amber stars with a black hole right in the center. A pocket of space only meant for you, until the end of time.

Steve smiles as he tucks his hand beneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers tracing aimless lines along your hip. He’ll never quite understand how a young boy’s disappearance brought him the love of his life, the future mother of his children, his soulmate — he decides not to question it too much. His life would be so ridiculously boring without you.

His voice is sincere, “You’re my best friend.”

“Well I hope so,” You tease, somehow scooting even closer to him, “You never stopped being mine.”

Steve’s heart swells tremendously. Beneath all the endearment and fondness, you’re still those two lonely idiots who found a friend in the most unlikely of places. Although he never wants to lose your love, losing the innocent friendship that first tied you together would be catastrophic. Before he gets a chance to come up with any sort of equally gooey reply, your eyes are widening slightly — like something’s just dawned on you.

“Wait, does this mean we’re… like… married now?”

The idea of getting to call you his wife makes his head go fuzzy. As much as he’d love to, that does seem like too much too soon. Last week you were planning on moving in together and now there’s talk of marriage and children and the rest of your lives. He’s got you, he knows that now. You’re not going anywhere. He can wait a bit longer.

“Hm…” Steve briefly turns his gaze to the ceiling, the hum in his throat playful as he acts like he’s deciding, “Not yet. Think I still wanna ask you properly.”

A bit of relief leaves you in the form of a scoff — a small taunt that humors his banter, “You gonna get me a ring, Harrington?”

Gingerly, Steve takes your right hand from its place on his chest and holds it out in front of him, carefully twisting your wrist to get a better look. A few seconds of silence pass.

“Steve?”

“Hold on. I’m picturing it.”

You have to hold back a chuckle; you don’t have the heart to joke about it being the wrong hand. Instead, you join him in the endeavor. A delicate silver band molds to the column of your ring finger. It’s nothing fancy — no gems or diamonds perched on the metal but it’d still be yours. Steve grins stupidly as he imagines the feeling of the silver, cool to the touch, pressing into his skin. 

He guides your hand to his lips, where he presses a kiss onto the place a ring would sit between your knuckles: a promise. He rests your clasped hands back onto his chest, “I think a ring sounds nice.”

You smile just as sweetly, knowing that there’s no reason for something material to signify your love. Steve could ask you to marry him while tangled together on the couch and you’d be just as eager. But for all the chaos you’ve experienced, a slice of normalcy and a traditional proposal doesn’t sound so bad.

“I think so too,” You mumble as you tuck your face into the bend of his neck, your warm exhale fanning out over his skin. Steve welcomes the feeling and rests his cheek against your hair, his arm tightening around you.

Marriage… god that’s a heavy word. The more you think about it, the more you realize how you barely understand the definition. Nothing positive comes to mind, only failure and unhappiness with a side of regret. You don’t know how anyone could regret love. You’ve found someone who’s willing to learn and adapt with you, who will stick beside you even on your darkest days, who will dish out extra affection on the days where you don’t feel like you deserve it. You’ve been very lucky; perhaps it’s the universe apologizing for all the hardship and scars. It sent you someone with hundreds of constellations across his skin and a golden touch to comfort you in times of great stress.

Steve doesn’t have experience with loving marriage either, yet he’s still willing to jump off this cliff with you. 

“We won’t be like them.”

Filled with so much mistrust and contempt it’s hard to imagine there was once kindness for the other. Desperate enough to have a son in the hopes he’d fix everything that went wrong. No, it doesn’t take much to understand you and Steve will change the Harrington name into something synonymous with compassion and love. The massive difference between you and his parents is your desire.

You want a family. You want a home. Your children won't be brought into this world for any other reason than to be an extension of your love. They’ll be cared for and comforted, celebrated and cheered on. You’ll take pride in the mundane that his parents found so disinteresting. You’ll have the weekly movie nights and sit on the bleachers at their sports games. You’ll hang their art projects on the fridge and make their stuffed animals have silly voices. You and Steve will show your children the best parts of yourselves and hope they become even better. 

Steve didn’t realize becoming like his parents was something he was concerned about until you said it. It’s a fear that’s quickly squashed. Instead, he worries about what reassurance you might need.

“I won’t leave you.”

Out of everything Steve’s said over the past few hours, he means this the most. Sure, he can’t promise there won’t be bad times or stressful situations that cause an argument or two. He can’t promise there won’t be mistakes made or conflicting ideas. He can’t promise that this addicting feeling of young love will last forever. One thing, however, that he can promise is that he’ll be true to you. He can’t imagine a day where he could meet someone better for him. The thought of having to explain what he’s experienced to someone else makes him want to break out in hives — rather than you, who can see a blank stare or a balled up fist and just know, no explanation required. Taking care of Steve is second nature; he hopes you understand he feels the same for you.

He thinks you might assume this is in reference to your own parents, which he supposes is true as well. He’d never force you to raise your children alone just because he got bored, which he can’t picture either. How could he ever grow tired of the Harrington/Henderson kids? They’re almost guaranteed to be the craziest, most adorable little rascals the world has ever seen. But he wants that life, which he hopes is a comfort in itself.

No, Steve will never leave you. He doesn’t think he could, if he’s honest. Even if you were to grow to hate him through years of marriage and parenting, he’d never initiate anything that could take you from him. How could he? You’re the first person that’s ever loved him. He’ll never give that up willingly, no matter how stupid that may sound.

When you shift your head back, Steve does the same — he can’t stand the thought of going another moment without sealing your soft words in a proper kiss. The only word that comes to mind as you slot your lips against his is safety; he’s never felt as safe and secure as he does right now, receiving your love and cradling you in his arms. You’re going to take care of each other. 

The passion builds as you sigh against him, suddenly feeling a bit too warm for your skin when his palm curls up around your jaw to keep you near. Although the press of his mouth is gentle, he is fierce in his intent. 

“I love you,” Steve whispers against you, pausing for a moment as he allows himself to bask in this wonderful feeling. It continues to grow as you deliver a light peck to his lips; he opens his eyes to peer into yours, a bit dazed by everything. Your response is simple.

“I love you too.”

Steve would kiss you again if you two didn’t burst into a pair of brilliant smiles, like pure happiness emanating from within. He pulls back slightly to get a proper look at you — a smile that he hopes he’ll see in more than one face. 

“I think our first is gonna be a girl.”

You scoff, your voice switching into something playfully stern, “Steve. You don’t know that.”

“Well I do!” He pouts, almost offended that you would doubt him on a matter as serious as this. As his focus returns to your ceiling, his hand moves from your cheek to wave through the air in front of him, “Just call it… father’s intuition, okay? It’ll be a girl.”

Another noise reminiscent of a laugh is pulled from your throat at his insistence. You’d be lying if you didn’t find him insanely endearing — talking about your children like they’re already here. Your heart flutters as the image of Steve doting on a baby girl materializes inside your brain. 

You shuffle down the bed a bit to rest your head on his shoulder, “Alright then. What do we name her?”

Steve hums curiously. He hasn’t thought about that part yet. Although it doesn’t have to, he feels like her name should have meaning. Something important to the both of you, something that signifies a fresh start.

He inhales as it comes to him — a name he’s been repeating to himself over and over again, accompanied by a handful of numbers.

“Marcie’s a cute name, don’t you think?”

Tears nearly pool at your lash line with his admission. The street name for your little apartment in Chicago. Steve would want to name your daughter after the first symbol of your future together. Your smile returns, but far more sentimental than it was before.

“I like that a lot,” You confirm, tilting your head up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. As you do, another idea forms, this one far more upsetting than the other.

“That or… or Max, maybe.”

Steve sighs, closing his eyes at your suggestion. His free hand runs across his brow in an exasperated motion — not at you, but at the outside world he was having a blissful time ignoring. He eventually nods, exhaling once again, “Yeah. That’s a good option too.”

He hates how quickly sadness crawls between you; he can feel you retreating into yourself and away from him, your arm curling back near your body rather than draped out across his chest. While he knows addressing the trauma you both experienced is important, right now doesn’t seem like the best time. Not while all the wounds are still fresh.

“Y’know we don’t have to worry about a name right now,” He mumbles, leaning down to press a kiss into your hair, “We don’t even have a kid yet.”

A small smirk pulls at his lips, “And I don’t know if you’re aware of this Henderson, but I heard that making the baby’s supposed to be the best part.”

His plan works; you let out a chuckle against his skin, “Did you really?”

Steve grins at your playful tone, his hand beneath your shirt shifting tantalizingly higher. He relishes the smattering of goosebumps that he leaves behind and he leans down to nuzzle his nose along your hairline. He hums in response and uses that familiarly flirtatious lilt in his voice that you have a hard time refusing, where you feel desired by him.

“Too bad that’s years away, hm?”

Damn him for being so good at distracting you. You shift against him once more, hooking your leg around his hips, “That’s alright. Gives us plenty of time to practice.”

Your answer earns you a genuine laugh and another kiss to your head.

—

Determined to keep your mind from wandering too far, Steve ends up reciting all the movies available to rent at Family Video, in alphabetical order no less. It’s another one of those stupid skills he’s learned through his tenure there, as well as how to change receipt paper in under five seconds (yes, he and Robin had a competition to see who could do it faster and no, Keith did not think it was very funny). But it ends up working wonders for you, and you make mental notes of those that sound interesting enough to watch for yourselves. As he starts the N’s — “Nighthawks… Nightmare on Elm Street” — Steve recognizes the slowing tempo of your breath and realizes that you’ve drifted off.

Your head’s tilted back now. You had been watching him adoringly as he rambled, giving him an unrestricted view of your sleeping face. For a moment, an emptiness fills his chest. Although he can feel the rise and fall of your torso, you look awfully similar to how you did as you were losing consciousness, also while in his arms. Briefly, he feels a wash of cold come over him at the memory and the tips of his fingers prickle, almost like they’re going numb. Then, he decides to match his breathing with yours; your deep exhales in time with his keep him from completely succumbing to the anxiety. You’re still here with him. There’s nothing to be afraid of right now. Maybe tomorrow, but not right now.

He’s not sure how long you’re out for, but it couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes. Although your body’s grown more tired, you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched, even while lost to a world of dreams. Adorably, you open one of your eyes.

“You staring at me?”

It’s more of a rhetorical question, because it’s incredibly obvious that Steve is. It’s crazy how comforted he is upon the sight of your irises peering back at him. He doesn’t even try to deny it.

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

Your mouth begins curling into a small smile. Steve jokingly rolls his eyes, “Don’t sa-”

“That’s dangerous.”

He scowls and shakes his head as best he can. Steve leans forward to press his lips to your cheek, leaving quite a few kisses indented onto your skin. Your nose scrunches up at the feeling and a tiny giggle escapes when he doesn’t relent, propping himself up above you so he can continue his attack all across your face.

Although you had expected more sleep to come tonight, it’s hard to complain when it’s replaced by a golden haze, as if both of you were dipped in pure honey; it’s all slow and soft movements and even sweeter words to keep you stuck together. It’s nothing and everything all at the same time.

“Steve.”

“I’m not done,” He whines as he peppers what feels like another one hundred kisses onto every square inch of your forehead and along the bridge of your nose. A chaste peck to your lips seems to satisfy him.

Suddenly, his expression shifts to something far more stoic; that crease in his brow begins to make a reappearance, as well as the firm clench of his jaw. His eyes go sad, almost like he’s looking through you instead. When your hand rises to caress his face, Steve cracks.

“I’ve never been so scared.”

Creel House — you know it instantly. You can hear it in the tremble of his voice. You did this to him. You gave him the most traumatic moment of his life.

“M’sorry I scared you,” You mumble, gently running the back of your index finger along his cheek, “I can’t… can’t even imagine…”

You get choked up thinking about if the roles were reversed, if you had been clutching Steve’s dying body in your arms. It’s possible you would have been too frozen to do anything other than sob, just wail into his chest as he slipped away from you.

You tut softly, remembering that the stubbornness of the man above you is the only reason you’re still here. His love for you saved your life.

“You’re so strong, Steve.”

It takes every ounce of self control he has not to break. He’s not sure anyone’s ever said that to him before. He shakes his head, biting down on his bottom lip as he wills the tears away. He swallows harshly when your eyes grow watery.

“I’m not. Thought I was dying too. Would’ve torn out my own heart right there and given it to you.”

His brow furrows, “That’s a… little bit dramatic maybe but… you know what I mean. You always do.”

As his left hand rises to cradle the top of your head, you allow the hint of a smile to grace your features, “I like when you’re dramatic.”

Steve smiles too.

“It’s not your fault, baby,” He answers lightly, wishing to absolve you of any guilt you might harbor over this, “Just glad you’re with me now. That’s all that matters. Never letting you go.”

As you melt over his words, you notice the exhaustion is starting to make a home in him. You know Steve takes the role of your protector very seriously, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t get time to recharge. He’d argue you deserve all the sleep you can get, so it’s only fair he gets some too, especially as your body grows sore with every passing minute.

“You can get some rest too, Stevie,” You card your hand through his half-dried hair, pushing his natural waves back from his drooping and tired eyes, “My love.”

“My love,” He laughs lightly, his voice a bit teasing, “That’s a new one.”

“What, you don’t like it?”

“Actually, I love it,” Steve replies. His voice is as sincere as his touch, which shifts away from your hair. Beginning at the divot below your cheekbone, he traces the back of his index finger along the line of your jaw. His thumb lightly skims your bottom lip when he reaches your chin — caramel eyes study the path along your skin, like a golden line has been tattooed into your skin.

“My love.”

After a kiss to your forehead, Steve shuffles beneath the blankets to drape himself over you, almost like you’ve swapped places. His legs tangle with yours as he tucks his head into the bend of your neck, while one of your hands cups the back of his and your fingers drift into his hair. He sighs happily when he throws his arm across your chest and finally relaxes against you. 

Although his body is tired beyond all reason, his thoughts are running over themselves endlessly. He raises his head to sleepily peer at you, blinking slowly.

“Do you have any of your books here?”

You nod against the pillow, “Yeah, why?”

His hesitation is spoken in the silence that follows. He licks his lips nervously, “Can you…”

You nod again when he doesn’t finish, “I can read something to you, yeah. Of course.”

With a comforting kiss placed to his forehead this time, you reach over to your nightstand, careful not to anger any of your wounds. You stumble upon one of the old blue-spined Hardy Boys mysteries you’ve had since your childhood; it might not be as sophisticated as some of the other books you’ve read, but this has always remained one of your favorites.

You both fall asleep shortly after you start the third chapter — the book is slung across his back when you doze off. Steve snores lightly against you. Rest has finally found you both.

—

[x-birdsong-x]

overly specific house dog au headcanons? spill some?

I can try and fit in one post everyone I've settled completely on so far, and also be obnoxious about dog breeds. fun

I've also bothered @greghatecrimes with a lot of these so very big thanks to them for helping me settle on breeds for everyone <3

It's when I've settled on a "base breed" with dogs that sometimes things just go crazy and go from there

Start with the most overly unnecessarily detailed one here you go:

Adams is the oddest most fantasy mixed breed of ALL fucking time her parents are one Belgian Tervuren and one Borzoi x Ibizan Hound and she appeared so much Tervuren that it’s just possible to miss that she’s got any sighthound(s) in her.

Editing to go even more in-detail with this one because my girl deserves it: She ends up looking somewhere between these two:

She’s very pointy and very leggy but she is very long-furred and that's where the mistakes come from. She moves mostly with the gaits of her sighthound sides which the others find is an easy way to make her bristle. She’s prancing across the room and Chase says you move like a sighthound and she says no I don’t (yes she does)

Park is a Silken Windsprite:

Probably struggles in snow and sometimes has to jump and jump to get through it when it's really deep but Adams mumbles that it’s cute and that's Fight invitation. Park brings up that Adams gets snowballs stuck on her and that it takes hours to melt out of her fur. ("Fuck you!" - "Do it yourself!") It's probably fair to say she has some little dog syndrome.

Chase is an Australian Shepherd. House probably used to make comments about he and Cameron both being Merle:

Cameron is this specific Border Collie (but with blue eyes, ofc):

Probably does the Collie Crouch sometimes. Absolutely does the Collie Stare, and that would come into House's "you can't actually pierce me with your eyes" moments.

Foreman is a Central Asian Shepherd:

For a slight visual similarity to how I imagine post-Lockdown Angst Cameron might feel meeting Masters, Masters is a Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever:

Probably has what I call in the groomers "Smart Breed Anxiety" along with her autism swag. Dogs who listen to and seem to understand every word you say and if you're telling someone or another pet off for anything, they assume they're the one you're talking to and give all their guilty looks. Also using my Bluebear as reference with that visual.

Thirteen is this Utonagan!!! No other visual!!! Have such a canine visual of The Dig it's insane.

Wilson of course took Golden Retriever. Definitely one of the larger/silkier ones. Show-type. He'd definitely be a dark gold but this is the best pic I have for how I picture him -color:

House is a Scottish Deerhound, mixed with what? He doesn't know. Wants to know. Very easy to miss that he's a cross:

(Little Rachel rode on his back for a bit once.)

Speaking of, Rachel is a little pupper Sheltie (Natalie) x English Shepherd (Simon) but she barely shows any Shep traits when it comes to looks:

Rachel's a mini-me of her mama, Cuddy took Rough Collie:

Kutner is a Springer Spaniel x Large Münsterländer, leaning more looks-wise toward the latter and leaning energy-level toward the former:

Taub is a Beagle, Chihuahuas are just too small for one of the main characters in my little visual I'm afraid (and I forgot Smooth Fox Terriers existed):

Rachel is a long-haired Dachshund, and Ruby is a show-type English Cocker Spaniel, so Sophie and Sophia are those crosses respectively. Click on the Spaniel to see the full pic.

Amber takes (Red) Siberian Husky:

She's quite thick-coated but she doesn't fall under "Woolly Husky" coat type.

Red (Irish) Setter Stacy:

Plott Hound Mark:

Dominika... So This dog is obviously a Belgian Malinois maybe crossed with something fluffier (unless the listing change from Mali to Terv is accurate, then she's just Small) but she looks exactly like this:

Saluki Lydia:

Belgian Malinois Alvie:

Lucas is just straight-up a Coyote. It just fits him too well. He gets a Coyote-themed name in the WC AU, and gets to be a Coyote when I think about canines:

Beauceron Nolan. Can't see him as something as round and soft as Newfies but also can't see him as a bully-type:

[saneijeijei]

AU, where Lucas is from the world of the Lovely Princess, returns to his world, realizing that Athanasia from his world is his Athanasia which was destined for him by fate. After seeing several hundred worlds and alternative selves, he realized that he was wrong leaving her alone, in search of another Athanasia. But he believed that he would be able to come back and fix everything - to turn a quiet and weak-willed mouse into the very princess he had fallen in love with.

Inspired by his dreams of what a wonderful hero he would look like in the eyes of Athanasia, Lucas returned to his world. But as soon as he stepped on the ground, he realized something was wrong.

The world was.. Not the way he remembered it before he left.

Not finding Athanasius anywhere in the Ruby Palace, he went to the emperor's palace, thinking the worst. Imagine his surprise when he found her in her father's office. Athanasia.. She looked different. The loss and naivety as he remembered it disappeared. Instead of sad and tired eyes, he saw topaz's indifference, which with hidden anger and even resentment.

As soon as Lucas opened his mouth to say something, Athanasia looked away from him and said, "I'm sorry, Wizard of the Dark Tower, but your Athanasia is not here. She hasn't come back since you left. You should continue your journey and look for her further."

"I'm not looking for her anymore. I came back here because of you." Lucas answered. "I wanted to--"

"Because of me?" she smiled bitterly. "What an unfunny joke. You are obviously very tired from the road, since you are talking such nonsense."

"I'm not kidding."

"Oh? So you really thought that coming back here and saying that, I would jump into your arms?"

Lucas was taken aback, not knowing what to say. After all, she was right - he thought so.

Athanasia sighed.

"I am very grateful for the help you have given me, Sir Lucas. But I don't have anything else. I don't want to become a substitute for your dreams of another person. If fate has decided that we should be together, then she has cruelly joked with us. After all, I never intend to be with you together."

Lucas felt something breaking inside him. The throbbing pain did not make him angry at all, oh no, he felt the wild excitement and interest that had awakened in him.

Without a doubt, it was his Athanasia.

[that-one-pretty-bitch]

Wmmap Lucas x reader Head-canons and a little one-shot/scenario ? 😋

Information:

Reader Is Claude & Diana’s first born who is older then her by 2 years

She resembles her mother a lot she has her eyes, hair, personality and dresses like her mother since she just loves the siodonna clothing

[and I imagine them more comfy then royal clothes]

Not mine :D but how I imagine her

She and Lucas love to tease one another, and Y/N is a huge savage but also can be a simp, but not a annoying one more one who randomly makes him compliments and boosts his ego

For example:

Athy Y/N Lucas

“Lucas has such a huge ego” “yeah but- I mean he Is a 10/10 he’s ridiculously handsome and he knows it 🤭”

“For you Lucas” hands him a suit “why?” “Cuz you would look hot in it 😗”

Everyone just doing their own things “You’re so Handsome Lucas” ‘smirk’

She has good manners but she is rather bold with her close friends and family in privat

Tiny example

Public: Sister, Father, Mother

Privat: Athy, Dad, Mom

She’s also reincarnated she was an orphan and died at the age of 15 because of a sickness.. she wasn’t poor like Athys past life she even had a phone and was really into social media so she would sometimes confuse everyone [mostly Lucas] with her art of talking 💀

Another example 💀

“Bro take that back-“ “imma just act like I didn’t hear that crap” “tf you doing Lucas?” “On my momma I don’t do these kind of things”

[idk why I wrote so much 😭 you can ignore some of it especially the last part… I Just never saw this kind of reader and thought it would be funny]

Flashback

“How did I get into this?” Mumbled Lucas, who was being dressed up in Sidonian clothing by none other than the infamous firstborn princess.

His face flushed red as he saw Y/n smiling up at him holding a necklace he had once given her.

“Help me,” Y/n muttered, moving her dazzling gold hair to the side as Lucas hooked her necklace.

He was so in love with her, never in his entire life had he ever thought that he would fall in love with a human, but this girl stood out to him, she was a dianhong rose next to all these weeds.

She made him feel things he never felt before,

Perhaps he would have to steal her away from Athanasia and her overprotective father

Reality

“Y/n… are you in love with Lucas?” Exclaimed Athanasia happily, making a loud ‘clunk’ as she places her teacup on her saucer roughly. 

She knew Lucas was in love with her and she intended to find out if her sister liked him back, she knew from her past lives that Lucas was perfect for her. He had burned down empires to earn her love and destroyed anyone who dared get in their way.

Both princesses were in Y/n’s personal Rhodonite palace, gifted to her on her sixteenth birthday by the emperor himself.

“Oh, Athy, love is love, and I suppose i’m madly in love with that beautiful magician,” Explained Y/n, sighing dreamily, a smile gracing her plump lips.

Athanasia lit up as she smiled at a tree.

Why was Athanasia smiling at a tree?

“Athy, baby, have you finally lost it?” inquired Y/n

Only to see the tree form into a human-like creature, with black hair and blood ruby eyes

Lucas

Oh, so he must know. That's alright.

Lucas wandered over to Y/n

“How rude of you to spy on us. Perhaps I should not talk to you for some time since you dared to disrespect my privacy, hmm?” Y/n turned to look at Lucas, anger flashed in her rose eyes, her face showed a strained smile.

He threw his hands up as if meaning to surrender to his darling and slipped himself next to her on her golden rimmed and red tufted chair. He wrapped his arms around her waist and placed his head on the crook of her neck.

“*sigh* Princess please forgive your handsome magician,” Lucas teased

Athanasia huffed, was Lucas always so full of himself? That magician made her blood boil at times. Athanasia excused herself and left.

“Looks like your ‘handsomeness’ has driven my baby Athy away,” Now it was Y/n’s turn to tease

“I’m an acquired taste princess, only ladies with class love me,” Lucas smirked slyly

“Then I must be the classiest of them all,” Y/n shamelessly flirted as she flicked Lucas’s forehead.

Any hatred in her eyes had now become love, there truly is a thin line between love and hate

Lucas is a walking threat, a menace to the world. If he wants to burn down an empire no one can stop him yet he happily lets Y/n hit him without bothering to stop her.

Lucas may be the strongest but Y/n will always win against him.

Today, the pair were wearing matching outfits as Y/n insisted on it.

Lucas wore a white button up with most of his buttons open, a navy blue blazer with a gold encrusted peacock pattern and a thick fleece coat tied around his shoulders with a chain of gold and sapphire, while Y/n wore a navy blue tube top with a design akin to that of Lucas’s and a gold ankle length skirt with navy blue ruffles.

The couple looked stunning, however the evening wind was frigid and Lucas could distinguish that his beloved was shivering

He slipped his cloak off and wrapped it around both of their shoulders.

“Lucas, your supposed to give me the entire cloak,” Y/n sighed shivering slightly

“I’m cold too princess!” Lucas whined as he cuddled closer to Y/n wrapping the cloak tighter around the both of them. The thick fleece felt heavenly against Y/n’s bare shoulders, neckline and back. It started to get darker but both Y/n and Lucas felt too comfortable to move, Y/n placed her head on Lucas’s neck while he placed his head on top of hers.

Lucas brushed through her hair with his fingers and braided it carefully, he slipped in a few roses in her hair as he braided them. He would be soft, only for her

Y/n may be a princess to the kingdom but she was the queen of his heart, he gave a lovesick smile as he watched the moon illuminate onto Y/n making her sparkle like a goddess.

He always associated himself with the moon, he was the moon and Y/n was his sun. He needed her to bring out the best in him and feel complete. Something about watching the moon shining  on her face made him feel content.

“Hey…Y/n?” He asked, his face beet red

“Yes?” she asked unable to see his face because of the position she was in

He lifted his head of hers and pulled her jaw closer to his

And pressed his lips onto hers, twirling the necklace he had given her in his fingers.

After a blissful minute the two parted, Lucas looked away embarrassed and Y/n blushed lightly

“I can tell you have never kissed a girl before,” giggled Y/n, Lucas was a bad kisser but she still liked it.

“And you have?” Lucas asked, his voice low and dangerous

“Yes, Ijekeil,” Y/n teased

“He kisses very well,” She continued

Lucas’s face expression changed to that of a kicked puppy, he turned away from Y/n.

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, I love you more than everyone except Athy,” Y/n traced apologies on Lucas’s hand with her finger.

Lucas turned around and embraced her tightly

“Never joke about something like that again,” He spoke sharply, hurt laced his voice

“I won’t my love, don’t leave, I want to stay with you for the rest of the night,” She smiled sweetly pointing to the stars

“Lucas, love me for eternity,” She kissed his cheek.

“Forever and always, my violent princess,” He grinned