#this brought to you by me trying to use doodle for work WHILE SIGNED OUT and discovering their cookies include:

[essektheylyss]

we're all checking what cookies a site is trying to include when it gives you the pop-up encouraging you to "accept all" cookies, right? that's a thing people are doing? because dear sweet fucking jesus some of the things they stick into that list blatantly are.... absolutely absurd. I don't even care if you're still accepting them after you read through the list if that's what you wanna do but at least KNOW what you're allowing. holy fuck.

[incandscents]

☆ — (natalia dyer, she/her, cis woman) who is joseli ryan anyways? ew. you don’t know about her, we’ll bet you want to. she's feeling twenty-eight and painting feels like a perfect night to them. rumor has it they’re capricious and implacable because they care, but they’re also affable and tenacious in the best way. she works to make a little money as a songwriter / musician. they’ve rented a place on cornelia street in the form of woodvale apartments. long live and my tears ricochet are the songs they could dance to the beat of forevermore.

𓂅   GENERAL INFORMATION .

name: joseli powell ryan ( born joselyn leigh powell-ryan )

nicknames: josie, jo, jojo.

age / date of birth: twenty-eight, born on november 22, 1995

zodiac sign: scorpio / sagittarius cusp

gender: cis woman ( she/her/hers )

place of birth: asbury park, new jersey

sexuality: pansexual

occupation: songwriter, main songwriter & guitarist for electric touch

𓂅    THE STORY SO FAR .

potential trigger warnings — mentions of injury, surgery.

before she was good with her hands, she was good with her feet: joselyn, more affectionally called 'josie leigh' by her doting parents, was all over a soccer field at age five. age four consisted of her making daisy crowns on the sidelines of the game, and after her parents sitting her down with ice cream and telling her they'd make her give it one more go, "one more chance to be the best", she screwed her head on straight. being the best never felt like an option to joseli. it was an expectation, a standard. anything less would not suffice. age five brought a ruthlessness on the field beyond what was anticipated of the ymca rec league for children. she'd spend hours in her backyard curling soccer balls into the upper corners of the net, dribbling down an empty soccer field, orange slices between her teeth and a loose ponytail signifying the dedication she poured into her craft. she never did anything halfway or half-assed.

for joseli, the future felt like soccer. she wasn't good in school aside from the occasional writing assignment — poetry was where she shone, considering it was allowed to be as abstract as the general make-up of her brain — so she put all her chips into soccer. her devotion demanded hard work and she was willing to give it her entire being if that was what it meant. it didn't go unnoticed, either. joseli was invited to development camps hosted by us soccer and called up for the u-16 and u-17 teams. every step she took was angled in the direction of the goal of being drafted to play pro, making the senior national team roster, having a shot at olympic medals and world cup trophies.

senior year was when the cards started to fall exactly as she'd designed: a scholarship to play at stanford, a call up to one of the senior national team camps, a spot among the greats carved out just for her. and then she tore her acl in a spring season game, which required surgery, and an extended recovery time that stanford could not guarantee being able to hold her spot for — even if she was with the greats at one point, she was cut back down to size. the crash and burn of her soccer career knocked joseli back years. most people her age were stepping into their dreams, figuring out what they wanted to do, while joseli felt like she was seven years old again trying to discover the root of who she was all over again.

she did everything she wasn't supposed to in an attempt to burn the ashes of josie leigh. she changed her name legally to joseli powell and told stanford thanks, but no thanks in exchange for nyu classes that she'd be in debt for until she's steady growing grey hairs. she spent her time in the city, drawing in the field books she carried at least three of inside her bag and observing the world with her mindlessly rambled thoughts and doodles. where her feet failed her, her hands would be her savior.

growing up in asbury park meant joseli had quite the exposure to music & music history, staffs embedded in her bones and melodies buzzing under the surface. always whistling on the soccer pitch during drills and locker room cool-downs slowly evolved into the stupid, angsty poems she scribbled into napkins and on the insides of her arms finding chords and melodies. she went to open mic nights at bars and played shitty songs that no one other than the three drunks found good, but the thrumming of electricty was back in her blood that she missed so desperately once soccer was cut out from her life. the bitch was back.

spending all her time in another already oversaturated dream meant that joseli would really amp up the all gas, no brakes mentality as she went about climbing the newest mountain in her range and clambering for the top. create, consume, create, consume: her life was a vicious cycle of art and trying to become the best at something other people had already invested decades of their lives into. everything was a race for joseli, a competition with a winner and a loser, and she was familiar with blood in her teeth while she fought.

age old story: girl falls in love. girl moves to the city with big dreams and her lover, drunk on a daydream and hoping that the fairytale ending is in sight amongst the tears and bruises of rejection and the grind, the constant fucking grind that joseli almost needs in order to survive. and then it suddenly pays off, after the years of learning the city like it's a constellation of freckles on the back of her hand that she sees each time she picks up a pen, with radios playing the song and record labels asking for meetings, and joseli feels like she is flying. she is seventeen all over again, dreams coming true as she returns from saturn and begins to build a kingdom from her home. problem is, she's never been the best at figuring out when enough is enough. when there's a line, when not to cross it, when to apologize, when to make it right. she just doesn't understand how she can possibly be wrong when it means living a dream — she's already lost one, so is it any surprise she'd kill to see this one to fruition?

little does she know it's alllllll gonna blow up in her face and force her to grow up. again. :')

joseli's a cosmogyral — literally means ‘whirling around the universe,’ which is very much a perfect descriptor. she’s all over the fuckin place. she’s a hot mess. she’s constantly in new corners of her universe, reinventing herself and finding new pieces and parts to highlight while trying to bury others. loves hard, fights hard. warm until she is too hot to handle. she always means well but she’s quicksilver; she is never the same version of herself, she sticks to her guns until she decides she only wants to carry knives from now on. will charm the pants off of just about anyone she comes into contact with. flirty. a little goofy, wildly sarcastic. there’s method to her madness even if no one else gets it. is the passive aggressive type, bottles things up and simmers. stubborn as fuck, fiercely protective and neurotic. she’s almost thirty and she constantly feels like she’s living someone else’s life, no matter how many times she reinvents herself professionally or personally, and it is starting to wear on her soul.

𓂅    DESIRED CONNECTIONS .

meredith to her cristina — basically her best friend (not gender specific) who tells it to joseli like it is, doesn’t mind if she laments about how the world sucks every now and again, the person she’s calling if she needs help with a body.

joseli, for all her neuroticism, is quite friendly and sociable and overall A Good Time, is the type to make sure a stranger doesn't feel like one in a crowded room. casual friends, neighbors, people that jam out and get high on each other's couches, regulars at the same coffee shop: she doesn't bite (usually) so anything in that vein will work

i am also not opposed to a roommate for joseli 👀

someone who dr. phil's joseli and she just does not listen (bonus points if she tries to reciprocate and they too ignore the fuck out of her)

pr relationship ! — someone who joseli's management has partnered her up with to help promote electric touch's upcoming album. either they’re good friends or they hate each other, i’m up to anything

hookups, friends with benefits, ‘we have casual sex because it’s fun to rile each other up,’ exes of all flavors — joseli is pansexual and a mega flirty hot mess so anything works !

childhood friends, friends who are only friends because their agents told them to play nice, friends that have definitely fought in a club or a bar before even though they went in together holding hands, friends who are only friends with her to benefit from it, good influence / bad influence, friends who are forced to be pr enemies and are secretly laughing at the media in private, friends who are only friends when they’re drunk

ANGSTY SHIT — a plot based off of ‘wrong’ by ally hills, “bad for me but i keep coming around,” someone joseli calls late at night because she doesn’t want to be alone, a plot based off come back be here by taylor swift except they actually came back and it’s like wtf do we do now

gimme a girl that joseli is rlly in love with but she’s lowkey sabotaging their relationship because she is absolutely batshit crazy right now trying to sew all her dreams together to keep them from imploding and she does not know how to prioritize ! and she has to actually decide if this is in fact the worthwhile fight #iykyk

everything and anything, really, feel free to hit me up on discord @/lizolsen and we can plot up all kinds of magic together :')

[doopdevil]

Hi! Just wanted to say I love your blog I just found it not to long ago and your work is amazing! 💕 Also I wanted to know if I I could request an HC of Curt Connors, Otto Octavius, and Norman Osborn (separate if you don’t mind?) With an S/O who’s an artist and is trying so hard to teach them how to draw but it’s like not working at all? 😂💕 And again thank you so much!

sinister 5 villains x reader | artist!s/o hcs

MASTERLIST

warnings: mild cursing ; body insecurities ; art is difficult ; overall fluff and goofs

pairings: otto octavius x gender neutral!reader ; norman osborn x gender neutral!reader ; curt connors x gender neutral!reader

word count: 1,187

summary: your boyfriend is astonished by your artistic abilities. although trying to teach him takes quite a bit of work.

a/n: thank you so much for the request! for the hcs i also added some stuff on general artist s/o things. this was a lot of fun to write, i hope you like it! <3

OTTO

Otto definitely has an appreciation for the arts! Although his passion lies in science, he can enjoy more artistic and expressive endeavors. The man is a romantic at heart and takes a thoughtful approach to the art he sees.

If you create art thought? You’ve blown him away. He’s absolutely captivated by your work, in both awe and utter confusion!

“The process is quite simple, actually. I decided to use more saturated tones in order to accentuate these lines, making a callback to the centerpiece. In the foreground, I made sure the hues were far more subtle.”

“I see!”

“You do?”

“...Not really. I have no idea what you just said. Regardless, it’s gorgeous. It makes me feel… hopeful,” he muttered, brows furrowed in concentration as he surveyed your work.

“I’m flattered by your support, Otto, really.” You sighed, “...But you’ve been staring at it for 10 minutes. It’s not finished, sweetie.”

Sometimes you’ll affectionately call him your “Vitruvian Man,” especially when he dons his extra arms.

Otto was pretty confused when you tried to teach him how to draw. He’s flustered at all the details a viewer doesn’t tend to take into account when looking at art. All in all, he’s unprepared, but his curiosity beats it by far.

“Where does the light hit the sphere, Otto?”

“From the lamp,” he replied simply, gesturing towards the light hanging from your ceiling.

You released a sigh. This would be a long night.

A few days into your lessons, he surprises you!

“Otto, this is wonderful! But what is it?”

“...It was supposed to be you.”

“OH-”

It takes a bit, but Otto is a fast learner, and eventually gets the hang of it! Within weeks you’ve established the basics with him and now he understands your process so much more.

After drawing with him, at work he finds himself absentmindedly doodling in his notes. It seems you brought out his creative side.

If this occurs before his accident, expect to be helping him with sketches for his prototype. When he first sees it he’s overjoyed to finally see his vision come to life.

You draw Otto. A lot. When you first show him a drawing you made of him, he’s both flattered and shocked! Before meeting you, the man hadn’t expected someone to draw him. Seeing it in person is almost surreal.

If he ever feels insecure about his appearance, you make sure to tell him how handsome he is in vivid detail.

“Your soft features make you all the more attractive to me. Every crease I see displays a sign of strength and survival, tying you together. Your-”

Otto is blushing furiously. It seems you broke him. He nearly shattered when you continued gushing over him while stroking his cheek.

When you’re creating something large, like a mural perhaps, he’s happy to pick you up with his tentacles if you need assistance.

NORMAN

Although Norman can appreciate the work that goes into art, sometimes he struggles to find meaning in it. But that changes once he meets you.

Norman has a particular interest in more historical items, evident by his mask collection in his manor. He adores hearing you talk about art history, allowing you to explain the context of various pieces. Sometimes though, he just asks so he can listen to your voice.

He is incredibly supportive of your vocation. Do you need some supplies? Done. Are you having an art show? He tries his best to attend every single one. If you accept commissions, he definitely mentions you to his connections, eager to spread your name.

“Darn, I need more cadmium red,” you sighed, gazing upon your empty tube of paint.

Norman merely slides his credit card towards you.

“Go nuts,” he winks.

Norman found himself caught off guard at the idea of him trying art. Him? An artist?

You’re one of the few people he shows his gentle side to. His soft demeanor and tenderness had proved to you that he held a great capacity for more emotional artwork.

Norman clearly had a lot on his plate; especially once the goblin came into play, and you’ve been working together to help him find ways to relax. That’s how you came to organize little art therapy sessions for the two of you a couple of times a week.

He’s incredibly frustrated at first.

“I don’t get what I’m doing wrong,” he grumbled, “Why does it look like this?”

“Well Norman, why shouldn’t it look that way?”

“It’s a mess! A literal pile of brush strokes and scribbles.”

“It’s abstract. Did you enjoy painting it?”

“...Yes.”

“Then scribble away.”

He was hesitant at first, but he grew to enjoy painting. They’re not always the most detailed or elegant, but it’s a tactile way for him to express his feelings. Norman also feels a lot closer to you during the activity.

But then you tried to teach him drawing.

So many precious pencils had broken in the crossfire. But with patience, he learned to enjoy drawing as well. Much like his paintings, they’re amalgamations of lines, abstract in every way. Norman’s feelings are incredibly complex, especially when dealing with his alter ego, so words can’t always convey his frustrations.

Once he got the hang of it, he drew a lovely picture of Harry as a baby.

“I don’t think this is so bad, actually,” he paused, “Harry was just a weird-looking baby.”

CURT

Curt is incredibly captivated by your work. Even before you date, several of your pieces occupy his home. He feels like your artwork is just another wonderful part of you.

“What do you like about it?” You smiled.

“I like that you made it.”

As a scientist, objective data and facts are more up his speed. When it comes to art, the man can be a bit confused. But he’s got the spirit.

“Wow, this is great!” Curt said, trying to spark conversation while you tour an art museum. In order to impress you, he had done a bit of research into several of the pieces, eager to show he knows a thing or two. But he hadn’t looked into every piece, nor were you naive.

“Curt. Even I don’t know what the hell this is.”

“Well it’s obviously a… a…” he stuttered before sighing dejectedly, “Christ, I don’t know. A butt?”

Curt had become proficient with his left arm and hand, additionally developing particularly neat handwriting. Although he never considered using it to draw.

When you’d explain to process to him, he’d listen intently, impressed by your understanding of the craft itself.

Sometimes to help him find a good angle, you’d gently cup his hand in yours to guide him. Eventually, some of the mistakes he’d make would be on purpose.

Inspired by his profession in herpetology, he would draw lizards! But only lizards.

“This lizard looks amazing Curt! Next time I’ll show you how to draw people-”

“No. I want to draw more lizards.”

You made him a drawing of his lizard form that he keeps in his office. To him, it’s like your way of saying you accept him, no matter what.

[momomuses]

deskmates with them!

various genshin characters x reader!

modern school au! how it is like to be deskmates with them ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

characters: itto, hu tao and kokomi

itto

"nice to meet you! before you is I, arataki itto, the one and oni! also known as bettle gladiator itto, the oni sumo king! the... anyway, I have quite a few names, take your pick! right, what is your name?" boomed itto's voice as you approached your table.

itto's introduction was so lengthy that you had almost forgotten your own name.

despite his rather notorious reputation (there were rumours of him being a gang leader!), itto struck you are a really friendly person, or oni!

does not pay attention during classes! so you might have to remind him to do so

itto can sleep with his eyes open. so you won't even be able to know when he wasn't paying attention (⌒_⌒;)

will try to play tic tac toe with you during class. he would do so through passing notes

in the event that you want to play too, the both of you would be furiously scribbling on a piece of paper while sneaking glances at the teacher to not get caught

you usually win in tic tac toe, itto usually gets caught by the teacher

itto is usually confused during class so you can try to help him!

once, you missed school due to certain commitments. itto tried his best to listen in class so that he could write down notes for you. when you returned, he passed the note to you, along with a lollipop

the contents of the notes were barely readable (ノ_<。) but it's alright! itto drew some doodles of onikabuto beetles, ushi and ramen too! you could see the effort he has put in

please, he is trying his best! („• ֊ •„)

hu tao

good luck! :D

will play pranks on you! everyday!

remember to not leave your water bottle unattended! she will put salt, chilli pepper, wasabi (anything actually) into your water

you, the unfortunate victim can either avoid drinking water for the entire day, or appear unfazed as you take gulps from your water bottle. bonus points if you stare directly into her eyes while drinking!

will attempt to start conversations with you during class! it is up to whether you want to entertain her!

if you want to, the both of you can talk through an entire period. the conversation topics are usually very random. it can be about what pranks hu tao would do next, whether water is wet, literally anything!

if you do not want to talk... hu tao does not give up!

she might be a little disruptive, but she is very fun to be with!

you know textbooks will sometimes include photos of people? hu tao will find all of them and draw moustaches on them. she will try to get you to join in too. she will draw on your textbooks too (ᵔ◡ᵔ)

will doodle on your worksheets. she usually draws coffins, ghosts, plum blossoms or the stone lions that guarded liyue's ministry of civil affairs.

speaking of stone lions, she once brought a miniature stone lion figurine to class

"yo! morning y/n! let me introduce you to Whiskers Junior! it is up to us to take care of Whiskers Junior now! after all, he is still so very young~"

made the whole entire class address the stone figurine by "Whiskers Jn", even the teachers

"one must show their proper respect to names! ☆⌒(≧▽​° )" hu tao explains

kokomi

your resident class president

you had the chance to work with her as a pair for an assignment! somehow, she has everything and anything you needed and knows when to give it to you???

during exam seasons, or whenever you seemed down, kokomi will leave your favourite snacks and notes of encouragement on your table! kokomi signs them off with a cute fish doodle ミ．．ミ

very attentive during classes! if you missed anything, she will point them out to you

makes homework lists and exam timetables! will make one copy for you if you want!

lunches with her are really peaceful. the both of you have lunch under this huge tree in the school's courtyard! she usually brings a lunchbox with bird egg sushi. if you want, she will make extras for you

the both of you can either chat during lunch, or read!

"ahh, sitting here with you is relaxing. thank you for accompanying me, y/n." kokomi says, a soft smile forming on her face.

hello! thank you for reading! I was thinking of doing a part II with more characters? we'll see!

I hope you had a great day! If you didn't, please take a good rest, may tomorrow be a better day to you! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

-Momo

[ayamturd]

end│dreamwastaken

summary: dream was once your everything that you would do anything for; what happens when you finally confront the reality of his manipulation and sadistic destruction?

prompt: “we’re both at fault here, and now we both have to pay the price.” 

warnings: descriptive manipulation, a single curse word, angst

pairing: in-game c!dream

a/n: this is my entry for @sleepysoupi​‘s 1.8k event! it goes without saying how late i am considering she’s currently working on her 2.0k event, but still a huge congratulatory to her amazing success and obvious, well deserved recognition <33 we love soupi in this household, nothing less of the fact *^*

also i know the prison doesn’t work exactly like how i wrote it, but let’s pretend for the sake of this fic

wc: (1.6k) - m.list

“Don’t do this, y/n.”

The air was sticky and heavy. As the lava bubbled behind you, it felt as if the heat could reach out and smother you entirely; the subtle warmth that felt insufferably suffocating in the tight space was a large contrast to the dark, opaque walls. 

Although you stood in front of him by your own desire, habits quickly fell to place as he stood proudly above you. Chin raised, Dream’s shoulders were relaxed while he spoke to you. His words were firm, and with clenched fists, you swallowed harshly from his mocking tone. 

You could practically hear his condescending grin without looking in how belittling he addressed you, and you hated how familiar the speech was. 

“After all I’ve done for you, and you want to throw it all away?”

Despite all attempts, you unconsciously bowed your head down. Whether in unjustified guilt or the internal rage from his lies, you couldn’t say yourself. He noticed nonetheless, and played into your vulnerability further. 

He was the one defenseless in this scenario, yet he held all the power in the small cage between the two of you. 

“We made promises! ‘Till the very end, right?!” He began to raise his voice and feigned some form of heartbreak, taking a step dangerously closer to you while you stood there in frozen fear.

Staring harshly down at your feet, the weight of gravity pulled at your tears as they trickled down sparsely. This was different than when you originally confronted him mere hours ago. Here, you were alone and with no backing, no one to reassure you that you did the right thing. That he was a monster that had you blinded for so long.

That you were justified for betraying Dream. 

“Don’t play stupid with me now. You can’t act like I did this all alone. That I’m not the only sick fuck in the room who enjoys the-”

“Stop it,” you whispered with closed eyes. While your voice was small, it echoed so loudly and threw Dream off guard. He shook his head and with a dark chuckle, sneered disparagingly. 

“You really th-”

Your eyes opened as you unexpectedly interrupted him.

“No. For once in my life, I mean it. Shut your egotistical mouth for one goddamn second.”

Everything was in a frozen stand still as you snapped. 

Course tears ran steadily down your cheeks, yet your eyes held more strength than Dream could had ever perceived in that moment. It had been so long since you had lost your voice. Lost your confidence, your fire that drew him in in the first place. It had been so long since you felt like yourself again, the person you once were before he teared you down completely to his mercy. 

You swallowed sternly in exposed anxiety; when was the last time you saw his face like this? Saw his face at all, at that. 

The molten lava radiated the room, it being the main source of light in contrast to the faint glow of the lanterns built into the walls. When you had originally requested to see him one final time before he was officially locked away for good, you had no idea what you expected to see. You didn’t see anything, actually, since you couldn’t bring yourself to try and meet his eye line the entire time. 

Until now. 

As the magma shaded the room in a warm shine, his dull eyes gleamed a faded hue of ash green. His dirty blond hair was visible without his signature hoodie, his previous clothes stripped away and replaced with an attired uniform instead. He hid behind a mask for so long, it was surreal to see him as something so mundane and human.

Your mouth felt so dry from seeing him again. He almost looked like when you first laid eyes on him, that beautiful day when you thought you had fallen in love. How nice the sun felt, and how crisp the wind blew. The summer day was fresh and the sweet smell of honey pervaded the air. To think it was by mere chance he approached you in the white flower field, hidden in the depths of the forest with a charming smile and gentle hand.

How cruel reality liked to play with you and give you false hope that such love could truly exist. 

The memory brought a smoldering rage that made your heart race in return. Back straight, you dared a step towards him with a quiet, yet firm declaration. 

“I’m done making excuses for your lies. For your actions, for the hurt you cause, for you.”

Dream could barely register your words as you continued in growing fury. It was like the floodgates were open and you felt free to speak your truth. 

You were riding this new found wave and would hold nothing back anymore. 

“I let you get away with so much because I truly believed that I loved you. That my love could fix you, or change what you are.”

You stepped forward again, your finger shakily pointed at him. His mouth opened to respond but you spoke before he could try. You weren’t going to give him anything, you thought, he doesn’t deserve your silence.

“I went against everything I believed!” you suddenly yelled, “everything I stood for, everything I thought because of you!”

Your vision was a blur as your raw emotions came loose. You screamed from the top of your lungs to the point where your voice cracked with a head lifted high. 

“I let people get hurt! People I love and care for because I prioritized you over everything I had!”

Another step forward, your voice shook with quivered lips as a result of an ached and long scorned heart.

“To think I used to be so proud to say it, to say you were my everything and my world.” With a trembled exhale, you gathered yourself before finishing your thought. “Maybe I am stupid, but trust me when I say my ignorance was your freedom and my considered love a blind devotion.”

Dream’s face softened considerably, for he was at a loss for words and didn’t have anything to probe at anymore. It was his turn to suffer in a lost acceptance.

“I…”

Shaking your head, you scoffed with your head tilted in disbelief. Smiling darkly, you knew then and there you regained the power of the room and your self-assurance over him. How the turn tables.

“Funny how things change when you have no where to run. When you’re the one helpless and reliant.”

Standing strong with your arms crossed, you stared at him with such distaste. Dream’s brows furrowed with a clench jaw as he stepped even closer to you. He was now mere inches away and glared down at you from his given height. Even then, you wouldn’t back down any longer.

“I do love you, y/n. Everything I did, I did for us. You can’t leave me like this.” He gazed down with such intensity that your past you would have wanted to say something just to appease him entirely; you weren’t that person anymore, and you wouldn’t let him drag you down more than he already has. 

Dropping yours arms before stepping back, you messaged Sam without wavering your eye contact from him. 

“We’re both at fault here, and now we both have to pay the price of it alone.”

The sounded mechanics from outside the box indicated the lava dropping, signifying the end of your visit. Dream grew agitated at the thought of you leaving and dropped his eyes down in resent, a huge contrast to your relaxed and calm state. 

You moved backwards until your back threatened to be burned by the heat. 

“Here’s to loosing all those attachments you mentioned.”

Dream’s head snapped up from your words, but before he could attempt anything further, the Netherite divider rose and separated you both. The lava parted as you approached the platform, Sam visible from across the entrapping moat. He watched closely in regard to your safety and anything Dream might try with your back currently turned. 

Approaching the stone platform once deemed safe, you turned to face him a final time as the contraption slowly pulled you away. Your chin was raised, and your tears were dry in satisfaction to your found closure.

“You were right,” you affirmed, “we did make promises, and this is our end.”

Bonus:

Tommy had been tormenting Dream for the past few minutes or so, his obnoxious taunts a sign of recovery from all the trauma he had dealt with from his young age. He hid behind his humor, but was strong when confronting his abuser with no uncertainty then. 

“Who do you miss the most?”

Dream paused from fiddling with the leather of the book covers from the simple question. His hand began to curl around the thick material, and he drowned out Tommy’s rambling from behind him.

A familiar scent filled his senses, an old and precious memory uncovered from the oppressed depths of his mind. He pulled the book in hand open to a random, but intentional page, his callous fingers tracing over the stained ink.

He wasn’t an artist, and it easily would have been passed for messy, nonsense doodles, yet the drawing practically burned the paper as a reminder of his failed objectives.

The innocent azure bluets insulted him despite being his own creation.

Dream was done playing into Tommy’s confidence, and spoke lowly as his head turned further away from the boy.

“… I think you should go, Tommy."

[demonslayedher]

"Grandpa Kokushibo" AU

This started as a simple little joke in those Muichiro doodles. And then it was just supposed to be a simple little drabble. A simple little Crack Fic. But next thing you know...

------

“You… you are my descendent…”

“…huh…”

Six flaring eyes loomed over Tokito, the two in the middle etched with writing. Upper Moon… One…

“Those eyes…”

Having been so locked on the demon’s eyes, he didn’t realize at first that it was talking about his own. “…huh…?”

“…They’re red… a sign… a Kakushaku-no-Ko… you have… potential…”

“……huh…..”

“Become… a demon…”

“…huh………. Huh!?”

With little recourse to convince the demon to leave like he might attempt with a bear or a boar, Tokito brought the demon home. “Sweetheart? I, uh… a relative of mine is visiting.”

His wife, whose complexion was lovely even without the luxuries of make-up, smiled up sweetly from where she knelt, with their two young sons asleep on the futon before her. “You still have family? What happy news---”

The demon, Kokushibo, bowed lowly so that he could fit inside the door. “Good evening,” he said.

“…G…Good evening,” she gawked, her soft green eyes wide and locked. “A… a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure… is mine.”

“Uh, so, it seems this is my great-grandfather of sorts. A great many ‘greats.’ A few centuries’ worth of ‘greats.’ What a coincidence that we’ve just run into each other.”

“It’s no… coincidence. I have… always been searching… for Sun Breath users…”

Tokito smiled with his face like puddy. “Sun Breath? What’s that?”

“…to kill them…”

Tokito and his wife shared a “ghh!!” as their throats tightened.

“I did not expect… to find the remains of the Tsugikuni Clan… out here… in this… dump…”

“I, uh, I sort of recall that name being way back in the family. But on the wrong side of the war, you know? We haven’t been a warrior clan since the start of Edo times.”

“A pity… but… no matter… you will have… a greater master to serve…”

“Um! Uh! Would you like to meet your grandsons?”

“Honey, what are you—”

Six eyes widened. “Grandsons?”

“I have twin boys! I’m busy raising them, I don’t have any time for swordsmanship, haha! All I know how to do is swing an ax.”

“Heirs… are important… they’ll do no good… as children… You,” he looked to Tokito’s wife, whose eyes were swirling trying to follow his gaze. “You do it. You raise them. I’ll… train my descendent…”

“Train…?”

“You may have… the ability… to attain the Breath… of the Sun…”

“D---di---di—didn’t you say you were going to kill S-S-Sun Breath users?”

“Why would I… kill my descendent…?”

Tokito was doing his best, but he was hitting his limits for how many more surprises he could take that evening. “Listen, I… I only want what’s best for my family. I want to watch my sons grow up, and teach them how to live a simple life out here in nature. Ancestor or not, we want nothing to do with demons.”

“My dear,” his wife said, some surprised admiration in her tone.

“I have to ask you to leave.”

“I cannot.”

“You will take ‘no’ for an answer!”

“I cannot,” Kokushibo stressed. “The sun is rising. Sunlight… will kill me…”

“…ah… oh. That’s a problem.”

“I’ll remain… here…”

“I’m sorry, I can’t have you do that. You’re a demon, and—”

“Defy me… and I will kill your family.”

“---GHH!” the Tokito couple swallowed harder.

----- The boys woke up to find a demon quietly sitting cross-legged in the corner. Yuichiro cried, Muichiro stared. Tokito didn’t want to scare them, however rightfully they should be, so he smiled and introduced the demon as their grandfather. Kokushibo politely bowed his head. The boys were quickly accepting. In his heart, Tokito cried and begged the forgiveness of his religious parents for not teaching them a proper distaste for evil.

In a battle of will, Tokito would be easily outmatched. But for however many years Kokushibo had on him, he didn’t seem like a quick thinker. Tokito might be able to beat him in a battle of wits. He had an ability that was sure to ward Kokushibo off, if only he could wield it with the right timing.

“If you leave me no choice, Grandfather, then I guess I must learn this Sun Breathing swordsmanship you keep talking about! Maybe you’re right, maybe I do have potential! I’d like to think all my practice cutting down trees makes me adept with a blade,” he smiled, his hands proudly at his hips. “Will you take a look this evening?”

“Yes… I eagerly await… seeing your potential… my descendent…”

Tokito grinned. He couldn’t wait either. In the meantime, Yuichiro and Muichiro spent the daylight hours at either side of the unusual houseguest.

“Grandpa, you have flames on your face. Do those hurt?”

“They do not…”

“You have as many eyes as a bug. Why do you have so many eyes?”

“Because… I am… a demon…”

“It looks gross. With all those eyes, can’t you see it looks gross?”

“I can see… a great many things…”

“Why are there eyes on your sword? Can your sword see?”

“My sword is made with… my blood… its eyes… are my eyes…”

“Is your sword a bug?”

“What’s its name?”

“Kyokokukamusari.”

“Kyokko…”

“Kyokyaku…”

“Kyokyakoku…”

“Kyokukuka…”

“Your tongues… are young.”

When evening fell, Tokito put his plan into action. It took no special effort on his part, all he had to do was trust himself.

“Yahh! Yaahh!” he yelled as he swung his ax. “Yaah! Yar! Yagh! Yuh!! Ya—AHHH!” he spun around and fell down, nearly lopping off his own arm. Perfect!

All of Kokushibo’s eyes, even the ones down his sword were blazing on him, and he waited for Kokushibo’s reaction. There was no fooling those eyes, which made Tokito’s plan all the better.

That demon would know!

“You are very…”

“Yes?”

“Clumsy.”

Precisely! This would chase that pesky demon off, wouldn’t it?

“I can see… it will take… many years… to train you…”

…no.

-----

The centuries had made Kokushibo resilient to setback, and time flowed at a different pace for him. “Become a demon now… and you will have… all the time you need… to attain… Sun Breathing…”

“Now, now wait!” Tokito waved his arms. He had taken the full next day to get his wits rounded back up, while Kokushibo resided indoors again patiently allowing the curious bos to poke the eyes of his sword, proving to them he was too powerful to be harmed by their tiny fingers. Yuichiro contemplated poking Kokushibo in one of the eyes on his face, but he hesitated when all six were focused on him, and he cried and buried his face behind his hands. “Wait. Wait. You can wait, can’t you?”

“Wait… for what?”

“If it’s inevitable that I have to become a demon, can’t you wait for me to be a human longer?”

“What good is there… in being human?”

“I want to watch my boys grow up!”

“I am a demon… I see them… perfectly fine.”

“Well, I mean, but, no, I mean, like, out there, having a normal family life with them. Working in the mountains, coming home, making food.”

“A human body… is weak… and will starve… without food… A waste… of time… to constantly…. work… for… Your body… will grow old… and frail… Become a demon… and these concerns… will vanish…”

“You—you make a compelling argument, Grandfather. But being human is good too!”

“How… is being human… better… than being… a demon?”

“I, well… is… isn’t it weird to learn Sun Breathing if I can’t see the sun?”

The demon’s eyes, every last one of them, went wide. Tokito had him! “You’re… right…” he said, stunned.

“Haha, oh, Grandfather! It’s been so long since you’ve seen it that you must had forgotten about it! All the creatures of this world are meant to be touched by the sun’s rays, it’s the natural way of things. It’s a blessing.”

“Sun Breathing… may require… practice… under the sun…”

“Haha, it may take a while, but I guess I’ll have to do my best on my own.”

“I will… train you… at night… and by day… you will train… under the sun…”

-----

The arrangement seemed to be working a while. Whether Tokito trained during the day or not (he did not), his progress was slow. His wife had come to get accustomed to the situation, knowing she had to make the best of it until the demon hopefully got bored and left. Having the boys so entertained during the day helped her get a lot of extra work done around the house.

“Grandfather,” she addressed him. “We got a great catch for dinner tonight, look at the size of this fish! What part of the fish is your favorite? I’ll serve that part for you.”

“Demons… do not eat… fish…”

“Oh, how rude of us. What would better suit your tastes?”

“Demons… do not consume… human food… we would… vomit it…”

“Ahhh… oh. Well, we can’t have that.”

“Grandpa. Grandpa,” Muichiro tugged at his hakama. “Then what do demons eat?”

“Humans.”

Muichiro stared, and after what felt like a long time in human experience, his face flushed and his eyes welled with tears. Yuichiro pinched his cheek. “Don’t cry, stupid. He’s only teasing you.”

“…oh,” Muichiro, red-faced and cheek still stretched smiled with relief.

Their mother, meanwhile, was blanched white, the fish still flopping around in her stiff hands.

--

“You’re not… making much… progress… could it be… you’re not… practicing… in daylight…?”

“Ah, ahhhh, yes, I’m afraid not,” Tokito sweated profusely. “That… that’s just part of being human. There’s so much work to do all day and then I have to sleep through so much of the night. I may never learn swordsmanship at this rate, hahaha!”

“Then hurry… and become a dem—”

“S-Sure must had been nice to be in a samurai clan back in your day, huh? Servants to do all the tedious chores and stuff so you could focus and train! May, maybe it’d be nice to hear some stories about when you were growing up! The boys would love to know their family history too, I’m sure!”

“…what chores…?”

“Oh, haha, oh, Grandfather! Did you not even know what chores were? What a charmed life—”

“What chores?” he stressed.

“Uhh---well---chopping trees, mostly.”

“Your ax… hand it to me…”

“Uhh… yes, sir.”

“I will chop your trees… so you… may advance… in your training…”

“Ye… yes, sir.”

-----

They had an excess of very high-quality wood on a regular basis. It sold so well on Tokito’s occasional trips into town that he found himself with more money than he ever had in his life. “Use it… to buy food…” Kokushibo instructed him. “Nourish your family… with it… buy warmer clothes… save your labor…”

Tokito had been raised being told that demons were evil, but he began to question that. They were all part of a world beyond humans, populated by Buddhas and Tengu and foxes, who was to say that their nature was entirely evil?

All at once, one night after months of the demon’s constant presence, he disappeared. Tokito and his wife cried with relief, and Tokito vowed to use the gifts the supernatural ancestor bestowed on them to raise his family well, and to never forget humility in the face of things outside their human experience.

But then he came back the following night.

“G-Grandfather,” he trembled. “Y-y-you’re back.”

“I went out… to feed. Now… continue… your practice…”

Inside, his wife cried on behalf of them both, for Tokito was too scared to anything but obey.

-----

Two years went by. With no choice, Tokito could not help that his swordsmanship improved. “Hhm,” Kokushibo nodded with approval. “Soon… I shall… find you a sword… no longer… a wooden one…”

“Aw, you don’t need to trouble yourself, Grandfather!”

“It is… no trouble… to steal one…”

“Well, what I mean is, I’m still so clumsy! Hahaha! Sure would be a waste of effort to kill myself by accident, wouldn’t it?”

“Hmm… you are right…”

“Hahaha!”

“I will… make you a demon first…”

“No! No, wait! I’ll keep practicing, I’ll keep practicing! Let’s hold off on a real sword until I’m ready!”

“You are… delaying… the inevitable…”

“And you are exceedingly patient, Grandfather!”

“That person… is not… so patient… he watches… and tells me… to hurry… and be done… with you…”

“Ghh!” he gulped as he went pale. He should never had forgotten his humility facing that which was outside human experience.

“Gra-a-a-a-nd-paaaa!” came a voice at the door of the hut. “Come fold origami with us!”

“I would… rather play Go…” the demon answered as he turned around and answered the summons.

“Go is boring!”

“You will… appreciate it when you are older…”

His wits. Tokito had to keep thinking with his wits.

-----

Another year went by. Kokushibo remained outwardly patient, but once again made mention of ‘that person.’

“He has… more tasks for me… than to be here… tonight… I will grant you his blood…”

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!” Tokito raised his voice at him. This was it. He had to enact his next plan. “What are all these ‘tasks’ anyway? You still take plenty of time away to be a hitman, what else could he possibly have you do?”

Kokushibo answered very simply. “Look for… the blue… spider lily.”

“Ha! Spider lilies aren’t blue, everyone knows that,” sneered Yuichiro.

“The spider lilies are all dead,” said Muichiro. “It’s winter.”

If Kokushibo had twelve eyebrows, he would had raised them in their direction. “I… see… winter… of course… they must… be seasonal…”

“Are you senile, Grandpa? Of course they’re seasonal. They only grow in autumn.”

“You see big patches of them all of a sudden!”

“Autumn… of course… how could I… had forgotten…”

“That’s to be expected, don’t be so hard on yourself, Grandfather,” Tokito’s wife sweetly smiled to him. “They’re a daytime flower, it must be so long since you’ve seen them.”

“Daytime… yes… of course… they’re under… the sun… no wonder… it’s been… impossible… for demons… for a thousand… years… that person’s… blood… is swelling… within me… with… frustration…”

With the rising tenseness in Kokushibo’s voice, Tokito’s muscle sprung with their own tension. “N-no wonder! How sad! How sad that demons can’t go under the sun! I hope I never—”

“That person… will give you… more time. For you… must search… in the daytime…”

“Ghh…” he swallowed. “Y… yes, sir.”

“That’s stupid,” said Yuichiro. “You’re not going to find any in winter.”

“Yes… it’s stupid. You will… search next autumn… and train… until then… and…”

“……….and……….?”

“Play… Go… with me. These rascals… have no… appreciation for… Go…”

“It’s boring, Grandpa!”

“I’m trying, I can’t remember all the rules!”

“Let’s play Shogi instead!”

“Fine… lay the board… let’s play Shogi…”

-----

Two more years passed. Tokito had reprieve from his training during the autumns to search for the blue spider lilies, and one untimely fall in those searches gave him a much longer reprieve from training. His leg was badly broken, and he spent most of the winter bedridden.

“Haha… I’m still so clumsy…” he laughed, covering up that he also wanted to cry.

“And now we have to do all your work,” grumbled Yuichiro.

“Are you still in pain, Dear?”

“A… a lot, yes…”

“Become… a demon…”

“N-no! I’m still so clumsy, I haven’t mastered any of the Sun Breath yet!”

“I don’t want Daddy to get hurt anymore,” Muichiro said with tear-stained eyes. “Next autumn, I’ll go look for the flowers instead.”

“Ghh!” Tokito and his wife looked to him, helpless to tell their son to stop.

“Very good… a good child…” Kokushibo patted his head. “You will… be useful… to that person… too…”

It had to stop. Tokito needed to hurry and eliminate this demon, for the sake of his family.

-----

The following autumn, his leg still bothered him. On most days it was fine, but when it rained or when he climbed too stiff of an incline, the pain kept coming back. He could not use it as any excuse to skip his training, though, for Kokushibo would use that as an excuse to rip him from his humanity.

He kept up the training, as well as ventured out through the mountains to search, and ventured down the mountain periodically to sell the wood that Kokushibo cut. On one of those trips into town, he overheard the gossip.

“I heard it was demons.”

He froze to the spot and listened. He knew it wasn’t Kokushibo, for he was careful not to cause any incidents that would inconvenience the Tokito family—a strange thing that Tokito was sorry for being grateful for. But, perhaps if an incident had occurred closer to them, he’d have heard the following gossip sooner.

“The Demon Slayers are sure to catch it.”

“Demon Slayers?”

“Swordsmen with the sun in their blades, they fight with Breaths to take those monsters down.”

Breaths! Like Sun Breathing!

“Um!” he butted in. “How can I find these Demon Slayers?”

“How? We don’t know. Do you have a demon on your hands, Tokito?”

“…Ghh!... N… No…” he bit his lip and rolled his eyes back to avoid looking at them as he lied.

Maybe there was someone out there who could help him. But how would he find them without raising Kokushibo’s suspicion? The stress made it hard for him to sleep and gave him headaches. His could not risk any talk of this at home, but his sweet wife could see how it pained him, and she whispered with a light cough to let her and the boys take care of searching for the blue spider lilies.

-----

His wife fell ill. A common thing, for humans.

“I’m sorry, Grandfather. For now while I’m still human, I still have human responsibilities to my family. I need to find medicine for her. I’ll be back after I go fetch a herb that will help.”

“You know not where… to find… the blue spider lily… but know… the location… of… a little… herb…?”

“Yes. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s… raining…”

“I know exactly where it is.”

“Where… is it…”

“It grows on the side of a cliff near here.”

“You… know… of plants… on a cliff… but not… the blue… spider lilies…? You… wreak… of… a liar…”

Tokito ran cold.

“And… to think… someone… as… clumsy… as you… would… try… in this… weather…? You…”

This was not the time for everything to crash and fail. His wife’s lungs were in a bad state, if Kokushibo were to do something to him now—

“…are… more… idiotic than I thought… stay here… my… stupid descendent. No wonder… you take… so long to progress…”

The demon very soon returned, unbothered by how his clothes and hair left dripping wet pools throughout their home. He did not know which herb it was so he had cleaned the cliffs of them, allowing Tokito to sort through and pick out the ones that would help. Tokito made them into a medicine to treat his wife, and while it eased her coughing over the following day, she was still in a worrisome state. Kokushibo rolled all six eyes before leaving again that night, returning very close to dawn with his hands full of medicines. “Something… in these… ought to do it…”

It took a little careful trial and error, but a few of them turned out to be very effective, and she soon made a complete recovery.

And now, Tokito had a debt to pay.

-----

He made progress in Sun Breathing. Something was breaking through, making sense in his muscles. Kokushibo watched all the more silently with each night. They both had the sense that there was a change coming soon. Tokito was on the last of his wits.

The time Kokushibo spent around his sons, influencing them… it likewise had to end.

“Grandfather,” he asked, his forehead against his thumbs. “Where do we go once I can no longer be in the sun?”

“You can reside here… as long as that person… allows you to… you want… to watch over your sons… do you not…?”

“I don’t know that much about demons. But if I become one, they’ll be in danger, won’t they?”

“…I will make certain… no harm… will come to your family…”

Tokito closed his eyes with a sigh. “Thank you.”

“Of the two of them… Muichiro… may also… be of use… to that person…”

“Ghh!” his whole chest tightened as much as his throat.

He had let this go on too long. How could he find them? How could he find the Demon Slayers? How could he do without ‘that person’ knowing?

----- The sun! Whatever action he took, it had to be under the protection of the sun!

“Tokito, good to see you!”

“It’s been months!”

“You had us worried.”

And humans! There was a strength in humans he couldn’t forget, and must always find himself humbled by. Anything he could ever accomplish on his own was so small, but with the help of more people! “Thank you for keeping us in mind! My wife fell ill a while, but she’s recovered now.”

“Psst. Are you still, you know?”

“You know?” another one asked, biting her lip and rolling her eyes back a second. “You know?”

“Ah… ah!! Yes!”

“Not to worry, lad,” an old man patted his shoulder. “Your family’s fallen on hard times, and that’s a shame. We’ve spread word of your family, and it’ll reach the right ears soon.” With a grin, the old lady next to him pointed to a crow flying overhead.

“Ahhh!” his eyes watered, and he bowed so low his face nearly hit his knees. “Thank you so much!”

“Hold your head up, young man. Do your roots proud!”

Yes. Even if his roots were Kokushibo, he could not allow himself to lose his humanity. There was still hope!

-----

Tokito had to protect his family. This Breath had a power, a power strong enough to make ‘that person’ want to rid the world of anyone who could use it. Maybe it was ungrateful to hone it as a gift to his eventual rescuers, a weapon that they might use.

A weapon they might use against Kokushibo, the ancestor who had spent years teaching it to him.

After a long day of training in the rays of the sun and well into the night, Tokito returned to his home, already dark inside. Muichiro and Yuichiro were wrapped up in their futon and using Kokushibo’s knees for pillows. All six of his eyes opened slowly, focused solely on Tokito. “You’ve… grown much stronger… it’s time soon… for a sword…”

-----

A knock came at the door. “That’s odd,” his wife blinked her big green eyes to it. They were not used to visitors.

“I’ll get it!!” Tokito shouted with a smile and bounded over to it. Their cry for help had been answered! It had to be buff, strong swordsmen, ready to rescue them and eliminate the demon—

He pulled wide the door, and against the light, there was the silhouette of two small children, and a demure lady in a traveling kimono.

No, this was wrong. Something was wrong. There was something special about these people, but they were not the Demon Slayers he waited for. As his breath tightened, the woman searched his face with growing concern. One of the children at her side looked inside the house, starting first on the woman with the big green eyes, and then the two identical children with long hair, staring back at the door while their Go board was illuminated by the outside light, and then to the dark corner of the house, where a demon sat and stared back.

“Ubu… ya… shi… ki?”

-----

(((And then, the author who only wanted to write a short crack fic, put the fic away, scared by the evil she had unleashed.)))

[mmvalentine]

The Bargain Pt 7 | Feysand

Modern AU. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8

Rhys and Feyre sat on the sidewalk passing a tray of chips between them.

Rhys had woken up in a good mood. The two of them were meeting at the mural site, and on the way Rhys passed a cart selling hot chips and slices of sausage with a curry sauce. Not a conventional breakfast, but delicious.

Today, he was spending the day alone with Feyre, making a giant painting, and he that sounded like the best offer he'd had in a long time. In fact, they would be doing this for the next five days. He had whistled on the way there.

Feyre had turned up in these adorable little paint splattered overalls, with her hair piled up in a bun. Part of Rhys wished he was painting her today.

They were staring up at the wall where their mural was going to go, armed with an array of paint tins and aerosol cans and discussing how to start. On the one hand, when designing the piece they had taken turns and that had worked really well. On the other, it didn't make sense for only one of them to be working at a time. In the end, they decided they would lay down the base structure, and work from either end until they met in the middle.

When they finished their chips, Feyre got up and started pulling out reams of string and weights from her pocket to make a grid, the same way she always started. Then the wind picked up, blowing the string out of her hands and Feyre cursed.

"What are you doing?" Rhys asked her, the corner of his mouth lifting.

"Making the reference grid." Feyre looked at him. "Don't tell me you were just going to freehand the whole thing. Don't be a hero, Rhys."

Rhys laughed. "I was going to use a lazy grid. Use a gibberish reference instead of a grid, so you don't have to get the lines perfect."

"I don't know what a lazy grid is, but if it cuts out the straight lines, then be my guest."

Feyre put the string back in her pocket, while Rhys picked up a can of pink spray paint and gave it a shake. Then he walked up and down the wall, making big sweeping letters all over the white base.

Rhysand is a spectacular person. Rhysand is the most handsome mural artist.

"Hey," Feyre said. "What about me?"

Rhys didn't turn, just filled in the last section of the wall.

Feyre you look absolutely delicious today.

The wall now filled with pink squiggles, Rhys back down next to Feyre. Where she smacked him across the arm.

"Since when are you such an outrageous flirt?" she asked him. "I don't know," Rhys answered honestly. "I'm just in a really good mood today." He smiled broadly, and Feyre rolled her eyes at him. But he caught her grin before she turned her head away, and his day just kept getting better.

Rhys completed his lazy grid: took a photo of the wall, uploaded it onto his laptop and then overlaid their design onto the photo. Instead of having a square grid as a reference point, they could now see what parts of the design matched up to what curly letter on the wall, and plot the painting scaled up.

And then they started painting.

By the end of the first day, they got the outline and main structure filled in. Feyre used a broad brush for her half, but Rhys used a lot of spray paints to cover large sections. At one stage, he got so lost in the process, unused to having someone painting by his side, that he nearly forgot Feyre was there. Until he took a step back to check the image from a far, and realised that Feyre had painted Feyre is the most delightful mural artist along the bottom of the wall where his pink script hadn't reached.

On day two, it was Feyre who showed up with breakfast. Fresh pretzels and pastries filled with cherries, and more hot coffee. Rhys traded his aerosols for brushes and they began painting in broad sweeps of rainbow colours, in Feyre's style. He painted blues across the bottom, yellows in the top, and a stripe of green across Feyre's left ear. She shrieked and flicked purple right across his chest before she had realised what she had done, and then looked mortified.

"Rhys, your shirt, I'm so sorry," she had said. Rhys pretended to be outraged for a minute, and then swiped orange across her nose before running away from her and letting her chase him down the street before calling a truce. And leaving a handprint on her back for her to find later.

On the third day, Feyre brought a speaker and they had music to work to. They added shadows and depth, and the image started to come alive before them. A wave of summer rolling from left to right. And everyday Feyre and Rhys worked closer and closer until they met in the middle. They had been swapping which side they worked on, too, so that they could make sure it was nice and cohesive. Rhys started leaving tiny messages in the spaces he knew Feyre was going to paint over.

I like the colour you put here, he wrote in one section.

In another: This bit reminds me of picnics.

And then especially well-hidden: I never thought I'd see you again.

When Feyre found the last one, she said out loud, "Rhys you big baby you have me on Instagram, you can talk to me whenever you like."

"I couldn't," he said, "you were a client." "I'm not now," she retorted, "so you can."

And then she returned to her painting, leaving Rhys to wonder what he might text her if he did.

Day four was the day of details. They picked up smaller brushes, and picked out careful patterns, finer outlines, points of solid black and white. Highlights, dot work, and the points on curls and tendrils. When they reached the centre, and then crossed the road to see the full effect, neither Rhys not Feyre could tell which parts were theirs and which parts were the other's.

Rhys whistled, and flung his arm over Feyre's shoulders.

"I think we might be done, what do you reckon?" he asked her. "I think we might be done, too," Feyre agreed. "A day early. We should call Tarquin."

Suddenly, it hit home that if they were done, he'd have to go home and Feyre would a continent away.

"No," he said. "Tarquin's not expecting us to be finished until tomorrow afternoon. Let's just have fun tomorrow, take the day off and tell him it's done at the end of the day."

Feyre looked up at him from under his arm, squinting through one eye.

"Rhysand you diabolical thing," she said. Then she stuck her hand out. "You've got yourself a deal." They shook on it, and Rhys breathed a sigh of relief. He was sure he could make one day last a lifetime.

"Come on," she said. "We'll just sign our names on the bottom."

She picked up the brush and put her signature in the corner, and then handed the brush to Rhys. He squatted down where she had been, pushed up his sleeves, and scrawled his name in next to hers. Then looked up and grinned at her.

But she was staring at his hands with her jaw hanging open. His smiled faded, as he followed her eyes and saw what she was looking at. Not his hands. His arm.

And the coloured tattoos that he had inked there after she drew them on in sharpie at their last booking a year ago.

****

Okay but lazy grid, or doodle grid method is so genius. I'm trying to write but my brain is mushy today so if you happen to be interested here's a great explanation video. Anyway I know I've slowed down a bit and I wandered off to make some Jurdan there, so thank you all for your patience.

Also! There seem to have been a flurry of new followers lately so if you are new here welcome and thank you so much for being here ❤️

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen

[creativeashproductions]

What If...? II // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: After playing The Orpheum things were looking up, Sunset Curve bought the house that owned the studio the band used. Alex lived in a safe environment will only love, Reggie didn’t feel like a ghost in his house and Luke was no longer sleeping on a couch. Life is good until it isn’t.

Warnings: Swearing, accident, injuries, angst, car accident (this was written before If I Stay)

Words: 2.7k

Requested: By @beautifulblogsblog . There will be more parts, total coincidence that it has a car accident. Also appears when I try solely fluff it turns into painful angst. My apologies, the next part will be better but also prepare for it too.

A/N: Sorry for disappearing. I have Lost Time Part 2 finished, If I Stay Part 2 is also finished but I really want to put a new part out for What If...? so here you go!

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

Hollywood, 1996

A hot cup of your morning brew cradled in your hand you stared out the window to the garage where Sunset Curve had practiced for years. A year had passed since The Orpheum; the band got signed to a label with an EP being dropped. The moment money came to the band Luke, Alex and Reggie had pooled money to buy the house the garage belonged to. You just happened to be over a lot still being seventeen.

“Hey,” Luke spoke, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his body tight against yours. His chin resting on your shoulder as his hand swiped the mug to take a swig from it.

“Hey!”

“Don’t sound so offended.” Luke chuckled, “I’ve tasted other things that belong to you.”

“Disgusting.” Alex gagged walking by the couple with distaste written clearly all over his face. He adored you two together, but he didn’t like the activities that you frequently did behind closed doors.

“Yeah, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t play wrestle in the middle of the night.” Reggie scoffed heading up the stairs to his room while Alex blinked after him.

“I- and he wonders why he’s still single.” Alex sighed, heading to the living room to watch a film whereas Bobby was grabbing a quick drink before leaving. The only member of the band that didn’t live in the house but then again, he didn’t have issues with his parents; well if he did, he never told anyone else.

A snicker fell from your lips as a deep chuckled vibrated through the body courtesy of Luke’s close quarters with you. His arms tightened when you shifted in his arms, glancing at his watch before you pushed the mug back into his hand.

“Gotta go.” You sighed, pressing a kiss to Luke’s cheek and freeing yourself from his warm embrace to nab the bag from the chair. Luke released a whine detesting the emptiness in his arms, “As much as I would have to stay and cuddle all day, I have plans.”

Luke released a long sigh with a nod glancing as Bobby’s gaze fixated your form heading for the front door. He snapped out of it when Luke hit his chest.

“C’mon man! That’s my girl.” Luke scoffed, making his way for the stairs, “Go, home, dude.”

Bobby did as he was told glancing up at the ceiling where each boy would be in their bedrooms until practice later that night. Bobby couldn’t help that he found you attractive, but he would never step over the line with his bandmate. You were already gone when Bobby got outside and the harsh glare on the back of his head from Luke.

Lance had picked up his daughter itching to play you the bones of the new song he had recorded with the band. It was by far his favourite one given that it was centered on you growing up which he both hated and loved. He had missed more of your life than he cared to admit so it is the last year before you would leave the house, he had taken a break from touring.

“It’s not fully finished. The working title is Bittersweet.” Your father spoke glancing over, “It’s slower than our usual song, but I have ideas.”

“What was the inspiration?” You questioned leaning your head back to glance over at him. A small smile tugged at the rock star in the driver’s seat.

“Almost twenty-years ago a struggling musician snuck into a concert he couldn’t afford. A struck of luck had a pretty ballet dancer attending too. It was an odd love story, and that musician had a double miracle. Eighteen years ago, he met the second love of his life.” Lance had a way with words that entranced anyone, whether it be musically or not.

“That musician was you.” You took a guess that ended up being right when Lance nodded, “Dad.”

“I was hoping you would harmonize on it with me? My sound guy is incorporating your voice as a baby, and in the ending, I want you to say something.”

A bright smile turned the corners of your mouth up while silent tears rolled down your cheeks at the idea he had. At that moment, you also decided to keep the collaboration and song a secret from your boyfriend and friends.

“I’d love to.” You spoke swiftly hugging his arm before he was shoving you back to your seat and his arm slung in front of you.

A blindly light made its presence known for a second before a loud crack shattered around you and your body was slammed the dash—a scream coming from your father before everything went quiet. You prone form slumped onto the crushed door unaware of the cries taking place outside the car.

Lance moaned fluttering his eyelids as consciousness brought him into the world again. His brain struggling to make sense of why the car was on its side. It connected when his first thought was his daughter.

“Sweetheart.” Lance’s tongue caught the copper taste in his mouth, but it was the petrifying taste fear that lingered as he received no response.

Straining his neck, he could see now you were laying against the crushed passenger door of the car; the car on its side with Lance strapped to the seat. A sharp cry released as he caught the blood coating the profile of his little girl. A haunting sound of Bittersweet filled the car among Lance’s sobs.

In the home of Sunset Curve, it was notoriously known that the only channel on TV was MTV, never the news. As usual, the guys were fighting over what kind of pizzas, they should order unaware of the countless news reports on a car crash. It wouldn’t be under hours later that they found out.

“Guys!” Alex’s head snapped up as Bobby struggled to breathe in the entrance of the kitchen, leaving the front door wide open.

“Mushrooms Bobby?” Reggie inquired oblivious to the tension radiating off the rhythm guitarist. Bobby had enough sweat it was like they had just finished a fifteen song setlist under boiling lights.

“Have you guys seen MTV?” Bobby demanded gaining the attention of his three bandmates as looking lost at the uncharacteristic anxious boy.

“Is our song playing?” Luke spoke, leaning over the island with a grin. His messy hair almost covering his hazel eyes.

Bobby didn’t reply other than to rush over to the tv to get to MTV. Instead of music blasting the house, a somber person was sitting on a chair.

“The musical world is struggling as the world waits for news on musician Lancaster Jameson following a car accident early this afternoon. Little news has been released on the circumstances leading to the crash on the occupants with both vehicles.” The man spoke sitting on a stool behind a makeshift desk.

Luke’s heart dropped at the words that rocked him to the core. His body working on autopilot was already moving to the door, he needed to be there for you. You must be terrified for your father. Luke had to be there for you. He just didn’t know you were in the car as well.

“An emergency response official revealed, however, that as they used the jaws of life, a song was still playing. A song very unlike anything Lancaster’s band has released before.”

A taxi, courtesy of Alex, pulled up beside the lead singer with his friend helping him into the backseat before joining him as well. Little did they know about the scene at the hospital.

Your mother, Nancy, sat silently ripping apart a Kleenex a nurse had graciously given the woman as she waited with bated breath. Her pallor pale and gaunt under the harsh hospital lights where she waited to hear the news for her family. Her tears began to fall as Luke, and his bandmate appeared in the ER.

“Mrs. Y/L/N.” Alex spoke, heading straight for the woman pushing the fears and anxious feelings to be dealt with at another time.

The woman couldn’t look Luke in the eye, knowing that the media had been issued legal documents to ensure you were kept out of the news. The lawyers had swiftly jumped on that part of the accident while your mother worried herself with the what-ifs swirling in her head.

“Luke.” She breathed, leaning to pull the teenager into a hug, “I’m sorry I couldn’t call.”

“I understand. You need to focus on Lance.” Luke supplied, stepping back to look around the room for you. His brows furrowed at the lack of evidence you were there, “Where’s Y/N?”

Nancy’s eyes watered further at the mention of her daughter still in surgery looking over to Alex, who collapsed into the chair understanding the look. Luke didn’t see it.

“I suppose the lawyers did an excellent job.” Nancy sighed, digging deep inside herself to lead the teenage boy to the chairs be had settled into, “I’m very sorry, Luke. Our lawyers reacted to the accident, but Lance’s name was already released. He wasn’t alone.”

“Y/N-“

“She’s in surgery right now.” Nancy’s voice broke slumping into the chair, returning to shredding the Kleenex in her hand. Alex was stock still in his chair, “I’ve been told she was lucky. There hasn’t been news on Lance yet.”

“Oh my god.” Luke breathed, staring at the scuffed shoes he had had for years by now with a little doodle you had done one night. The world faded as Luke went over a single moment, he had shared with you, and something burned; something he had carried for months now felt heavier than ever before.

Hours went by for Luke, Alex and your mother slowly the ER waiting room grew to have Reggie for support. He was the most serious he had been in his entire life; he had contacted the Patterson family but pleaded they wait for news at home. Reggie knew Luke wouldn’t be able to deal with his unresolved issues with his parents and the grief.

“Mrs. Y/L/N.” A doctor wearing scrubs called outgaining the attention of Nancy who rushed up to the older doctor, “Please follow me.”

Nancy wavered in her steps as the doctor brought the middle-aged woman to a quiet room where the sound of a heart monitor beeped. Nancy was quick to rush over to the body, resting still out from the medication.

“Y/N.” Your mother breathed collapsing into a chair where she grasped your hand tightly. Her eyes took in the superficial cuts on your face and the brace on your wrist.

“She’s miraculously lucky for the severe car accident, she has a minor concussion along with a broken wrist. We had to remove her appendix or spleen, but she’ll be fine. The seat belt, however, snapped upon impact.” The doctor spoke facing the sobbing woman with pity in his eyes, “By the bruise across her chest we can see that your husband protected her, the media calls with ‘being soccer mom’d’ or my daughter does. Had he not done that the injuries would have been too severe to survive or she would have been in a vegetative state for the rest of her life.”

“Lance. Is he okay?”

“We need to talk about that. If you could follow me, we’ll let your daughter rest.”

Sunset Curve came to an early hiatus in their music career as Luke refused to leave your room from the moment he was allowed. When visitor hours were up, you could find him in his car struggling from sneaking into your room, but the warning of charges from the guard kept him in his place. For the first time in his life, Luke had no urge to put pen to paper or strum a single tune on his guitar.

He would stay silent in the chair beside your bed, holding tight to your hand in despair and guilt. He would, of course, visit Lance when your mother came to see you, they traded off not wanting either one to be alone.

A moan from the bed brought the attention of Luke and Alex, who had visited today to convince his best friend to come home for a shower.

“Baby?” Luke lunged closer as your eye fluttered open scanning the room with bleary eyes and sadness, “Hey.”

“Why are you holding my hand?” You questioned glancing at the hand intertwined with yours. Luke’s face dropped stumbling back at the look you cast him.

 “You don’t-“

“I woke up from an accident, and you can’t hug me?” You finished staring at the boy down, unaware the delivery of the question could very well be better than it was. Luke heaved a sigh gently, pulling you into a hug.

“That was cruel. I thought you didn’t remember me.”

“Luke forgetting you is like forgetting what the moon is.” You spoke wincing as you leaned back, “What’s the damage?”

Luke’s eyes glared at the nonchalant behaviour you displayed. At the same time, he was an utter mess from a week of sleeplessness and crippling fear. Alex’s deep sigh as he pushed down on Luke’s shoulders to place him back in the chair.

“The damage is you’ve been unconscious for a week with a minor concussion, a broken wrist, a bruised knee that was recently diagnosed, you are one spleen less, and you won’t have to worry about getting appendicitis. You will be incredibly sore from the bruises as well.” Alex supplied leaning to gently hug your form for even if you were dating his ex you had quickly grown to be a surrogate little sister.

“Oh.” You blinked, turning to stare at the wall, “What about my Dad?”

“He’s fine. He’s been struggling with orderlies every day to escape to check on you.” Luke spoke, “Your mom and I have had to do shifts between rooms during visitation hours. Security wasn’t happy to find me in here after hours.”

“Good.” You nodded leaning back in the bed staring up at the ceiling muttering a reply when Alex murmured, he would head to tell your parents you were awake.

Luke once had romantic plans before the accident, but when he found out about your accident, everything hit him. What-ifs of never living his dreams with you, of the things he might never get to do.

“Your hand better heal fast so that brace can come off.” Luke spoke, keeping his gaze on your face entirely in love with you. Your look of confusion amusing him, “Well how will the ring fit?”

“Ring?” You questioned becoming owl-eyed when Luke pulled out a stunning ring from his pocket, “Oh my god.”

“You tend to change my plans with everything you do. I was going to have this big speech and a romantic dinner, but I can’t wait.” Luke spoke, leaning to wipe away a tear from your eye, “I never want to be that scared again so until I can blow your socks off with a better proposal will you marry me?”

Your hand cupped the smooth cheek of the boy you loved more than words could ever say, “No.”

Luke’s heart broke at the words he never anticipated to hear, “What?”

“I say this because I love you, but I don’t want to go into an engagement with bad blood between you and your parents. You’ve shown them that your dream was worth it, but now you have to reach out. I want only happiness when we get engaged.”

Luke nodded his head, putting the ring back in his pocket, disappointed in the response, but what could he do? You gave a reason, and while definitely annoyed him he couldn’t fault your compassionate nature. For once in your entire relationship, the silence was awkward.

“So…” You trailed off, avoiding looking at Luke, “Have you decided on a tracklist for the album?”

“Huh? Oh, no.” Luke shook his head only to be relieved when your parents came into the room. Nancy was already crying as she collapsed into the chair.

“Oh baby.” Nancy spoke, pressing a kiss to the bruised forehead you currently rocked. Lance scowled as he was rolled closer to the bed by the orderly.

“I’m fine.” You grumbled as your mom scanned every part of you, “Seriously!”

“I almost lost my baby.” Your mom snapped before apologizing at raising her tone, “Let me coddle you.”

You resigned yourself, but there was a sadness inside as Luke shared a goodbye before leaving you alone with your parents. You really wished you hadn’t been wrong in your decision.

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[huebris808]

Dr. Hofnarr’s Horrible, No-Good, Very Weird 15 Years Of Being Dead.

a tribute to fanon interpretations/character study(?) that was going to be a bonus chapter in a post-canon/au comedy fic im working on! might come back to expand on this when i do start posting it (or if mpn gives him more background story lore that i’ll have to work with aoAHGHOAUGH)

happy madness day! :o)

“Where should I begin… Perhaps at the very beginning? OH! Christoff and I first met years before our Nexus days! Back in our freshman years of college, to be precise! You know, I was actually a theater major before switching to- ... A-Aah, too far back. Much too far... Let’s start from the point where the notes I supplied to you ended then, shall we? After our dissension...”

.. “Good luck, old friend...” ..

The first years on the run from Nexus was stressful to say the least. Hofnarr and Christoff had split up to better their chances of survival. He knew the process would be grueling, having talked to Christoff almost every night about it to calm his nerves. While he played calm for the cameras, Hofnarr truly wished he could have held him close one last time. No communications. No physical contact. Day after day, month after month, nothing. He would be separated from his husband for a very long time…

It wasn’t all bad after a while. He had a comfortable new apartment, went under a new alias, and his questionable new job paid him enough to buy food. His apartment even had cable! He could watch marathons of Slaughter Time whenever he got home! In hindsight, he wondered if that had an effect on his mental state at the time...

Hofnarr had taken the last of his S3LF regulator with him, having shipped them out to an undisclosed location prior to dissension. Dissonance exposure did a number on him and his research team, leaving them to track their “normality” through daily blood tests and injections. While they met their fates early on, Hofnarr had gotten lucky. That is, until the doses began to run out.

Stressful as it was, he knew what he had to do. Hofnarr rushed back to what remained of the labs, knowing it had been abandoned by now. It was ironic, he and Christoff’s work, the work that was turned against them, was the one thing keeping him alive. For days, he worked to make more doses from the materials he brought with him. But there was only so much he could do with limited supplies… Hofnarr made many attempts to prolong the inevitable, lowering his dosage amount, injecting it weekly rather than daily, but he eventually ran dry. 

Refusing to turn to darker alternatives, he felt the only thing he could do at this point is record his final findings through video logs.

“It was… interesting revisiting the footage, to put it nicely. Christoff had actually kept the video files on a drive after he originally found all my things in the lab! I barely remembered what happened back then, so I rewatched them out of curiosity.”

On the first night, Hofnarr recorded a message for Christoff. One filled with sorrow, but also with gratitude. For the time that they spent together. How special he made him feel. All the memories they made together...

On the next, he recorded a log detailing his findings during Project Nexus. The effects of dissonance, the Other Place, what it did to him and his colleagues, everything and anything he could.

The next, he reported on the progression of his symptoms. Fever, brain fog, insomnia, joint pain. He felt like his organs were melting, his skin bursting at the seams.

The next night he saw something and remembered. Scars. The scars on his head. That week he was in the staff hospital. He thought it was a dream but the scars were there. Phobos. Director Phobos brought him somewhere that week. He knew he felt off when he woke up in the office that night. He knew something was off when Christoff asked him where he was. He thought he passed out from over-working. That bastard Phobos. Nausea was replaced with rage as he began to scream, his throat becoming raw. What did he put in him? What the hell did he put inside him!?

On the last recorded log, he was face-down on the ground. Groaning as his body occasionally convulsed. Until the video feed eventually cut off.

His body would lay there dormant, dead, for fifteen years. 

But to Hofnarr, he felt like he was dreaming.

.. “LET’S GIVE IT UP FOR OUR NEXT CONTESTANT!” ..

“Huh?” The doctor sat up and looked around, the area around him pitch black. Wasn’t he sleeping just a moment ago? He got up and took a step forward in the seemingly endless void. “H-Hello? Who’s out there?”

“AWW, DON’T BE SHY NOW! ESTEEMED AUDIENCE, A BIG ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR OUR GUEST; THE UNFORTUNATE DOCTOR HOFNARR!”

A light shined down on him from above. A crowd seemingly began to cheer all around him. He was in the center of what looked like a talk show set. Hofnarr awkwardly scratched the corner of his face. “‘Unfortunate’? W-What do you mean? W-Who are you?”

“FIGHT FIRST, ASK QUESTIONS LATER!” The voice above him called out again. “AFTER ALL, IT’S…!” Hofnarr drowned out the noise while trying to think. It sounded familiar. Like it came from…

Hofnarr’s thoughts were cut short. He looked down at his torso. Terror set in as he recognized an entire stop sign had been lodged through his chest.

“DON’T GET COLD FEET NOW! THE SHOW’S ONLY JUST BEGUN!” 

The words echoed in Hofnarr’s mind as he frantically tried to pull it out, his vision growing muddled, his hands slipping with blood until…

He blinked.

No stage. No sound. No pain.

Nothing around except for a single white door in front of him.

He stood up again, cautiously reaching for the doorknob.

When he entered he seemed to be in a vintage styled home. It was a kitchen with checkerboard flooring, a table with two chairs, and cheerful music playing through a small radio. It smelled of pastry and medical equipment. Suddenly, there was a knock coming from the door. A familiar voice called from behind it.

“I’m home, dear.” “J-Jeb?!”

Hofnarr rushed towards the front door. Christoff wasn’t trapped here too, was he? “Jeb! W-where are we!? What is this place? What happened to-”

As he opened the door, the clapping returned.

His husband was there, briefcase in hand, his face replaced with a black hole dripping with an unknown inky substance.

He slowly began to back away as “Jeb” moved closer.

The applause, the laughter, was deafening.

Before he could question or run away, Hofnarr was hit by something. His vision blurred, but refocused to be face-to-face with something. It seemed to be a shadow of himself. He tried to run again, but was pinned down by his doppelganger. The clone raised a clawed hand above him and then...

Like waking from a nightmare, Hofnarr quickly sat up once again. He gasped for air, dripping with cold sweat.

Was this really happening? Was it finally over? Was he free?

And then the spotlight focused on him again.

“It… got very surreal. Despite fight after fight, death after painful death... I would suddenly be somewhere else! There was a gameshow, our old apartment, a cat cafe, a... strip club of sorts, a tea room filled with these small armless doodles I used to draw on my research notes trying to offer me snacks… One time there was a sort of singing contest, but I won’t bore you with the details of that one. But when I wasn’t in those places, I felt like I was fighting for my life. It felt like an eternity! And the strangest part of it all? It… it became addicting.”

At first, he felt as if Hofnarr used all of his energy, physical and emotional, to fight back. It reminded him too much of his escape from Nexus. But as time went on, he focused less on escaping and more on surviving. The more he fought, the more he began to lose himself. He was anticipating what sudden whiplash of combat would be thrown at him next. He chuckled at the thought of what excitement would be heading his way. He wanted more. The fights became too slow. Too predictable. Too boring. He began toying with whatever was thrown at him. Turning his shadowy hunters into the hunted. Why let his audience watch the same old fights all the time?

Suddenly, the fighting stopped.

Why? 

He was having fun, wasn’t he? He grew impatient.

“WHAT’S THE HOLD UP!” He yelled into the void, seething with anger. “AREN’T WE SUPPOSED TO BE FIGHTING? ISN’T THAT WHAT I’M HERE FOR?!”

He stomped his foot down, lodging something out of the ground.

The stop sign.

He looked over it curiously. How familiar…

Grabbing hold of it, quick flashes of memories appeared to him.

Nexus, the Science Tower, Phobos, the Other Place… 

A man with long hair standing next to...

Hofnarr… 

Who was that? Was that him?

No…

Only Tricky remained.

Footsteps echoed throughout the halls of the abandoned lab. Heels quickly clicking, cautiously stopping every so often. A lone Nexus Core agent entered through one of the doors.

Perfect timing.

“HAY! YOU THERE!!” A voice stuttered and glitched out, reverberating through the emptiness of the lab. The quickly soldier whipped their head around. “YEAH! YOU, STUPID. PLAY WITH ME!!”

“Who’s there?” The agent pointed their magnum towards the noise. “Show yourself!”

Gladly. The cackling figure emerged from the shadows, posing with a peace-sign, causing the agent to recoil. He grinned, slowly moving towards the cowering goon on the ground. They wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Who are you!?”

They couldn’t kill him.

“FIGHT FIRST. ASK QUESTIONS LATER! AFTER ALL…” 

CAN’T KILL CLOWN.

“IT’S MURDER TIME!”

..

“My body had been there, regenerating and repeating the enmeshment process for years. And by the time I woke up, I was a completely different person. I became a creature of unfiltered impulse… A personification of chaos itself.”

The room grew silent before Hofnarr spoke up again.

“I-Is it horrible to say it was… kind of cool?” He said with a nervous chuckle, twiddling his fingers.

2BDamned was quiet for a moment. They recalled the many times they had to stitch their comrades back together due to Clown Moments. They placed their head in their palms and let out a sigh.

“... You have the right to your own opinion.”

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

BONUS: songs i was listening to on loop while working on this instead of doing my damned writing assignment. Enjoy

lady gaga ft. dorian electra - replay

vestik - tricky's vengeance ft. monocronic

[ddaengyoonmin]

-Part One-

Pairing: University student!Jimin x camboy!Hoseok (low key jungkook x Namjoon)

Rating: M/18+

Smut- Angst with a Happy ending-

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings/tags: voyeurism, exhibitionism, sub/dom dynamics(later chapters), masturbation/mutual masturbation, shy!jimin, porn talk, swearing, slight secondhand embarrassment maybe?

Summary: Jimin overhears his classmates discussing their friend and his job as a camboy. The amount of money Hoseok makes in a night catches his attention, and he tunes in to see what this man is all about...

A/n: I’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback on this series and if you think I should keep it going! I have plans for more depending on if we like this series (:

——————

“How much?”

The quiet voice was almost overlooked by the group of four men all huddled around one desk.

Jimin felt his cheeks growing instantly hot.  

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop.  He couldn’t help it.

The men were all gathered around the desk behind him and talking far too loud for him to not at least catch some of what they were saying.

And what he did hear...

Who could not want to know?

Even if it was Park Jimin, the shy and focused student who’d never said a word in this class to anyone besides the professor.

Though, as soon as five pairs of eyes were all turned on him he started to feel maybe speaking up had been a mistake.

Jimin gulped hard, probably loudly.  He couldn’t hear anything besides a bit of ringing in his ears.

“More than you make in months buddy.” replied one of the men, the shortest of the group, a glossy eyed man with a sleepy face, wearing a casual black hoodie and sporting bleached blonde hair that looked as if he’d still just hopped out of the shower.  His comment seemed to be rude on first take, but Jimin had a feeling that the boy was simply answering his question.  

“I-It’s just.  That’s an insane amount of money for one night...I’ve never heard of anyone being able to do anything like that.  It sounds...fake? Are you sure your friend isn’t pulling your leg?” Jimin chuckled, but he choked on his words a bit, still very nervous to be talking to an entire group of men he’d never spoken with before.  And about this no less.

“It's not.  I’ve watched in on it.” another man in the group spoke this time.  Jungkook.  Jimin did know him, just his name at least.  Everyone did.

He’d had a moment at this university the previous year that almost got him expelled and it had actually gotten on the news.  He spent the summer away, getting some sort of help that he needed and through the rumor mill Jimin had heard he was doing okay.

In a city as big as the one Jimin lived in, news fades fast and it was quickly let go of.  Minus the occasional snicker when Jungkook entered a large room, no one brought it up to him.

He widened his eyes and tried to show Jimin his honesty.  Jimin felt the sincerity in the puppy dog eyes of the dark haired boy speaking with him.  They really weren’t fucking with him.

Jimin had known porn was good money, but to hear that was how much their friend had made in tips in a night being a “cam boy” was not expected.

Not even half of the number they’d said is what Jimin had been expecting.  That was more money than Jimin's rent...in a day.  He still couldn’t believe it.

He told himself it couldn’t be helped that he bit his lip and thought a few seconds too long on whether or not that amount of money could sway a person like himself to consider something so…

Bold? Terrifying? Frowned upon?

There were many words to describe what Jimin’s preconceived notions on this line of work were.

“He’s not shy about cute guys looking in on him,” Jungkook chuckled pulling his phone out of his pocket, “Do you wanna know his cam name? Watch one of his shows if you don’t believe me.  I’m thought of as many things already I’d hate to add being a liar to that list.”

If Jimin’s cheeks hadn’t been noticeably red before, they were now.

“T-that’s fine…” He stuttered, trying to stop the taller boy from walking over by waving a hand quickly at him.

Jungkook paused mid step gesturing his hands to go along with an exaggerated halt and freeze in place.  A somehow charismatic yet goofy move that almost made Jimin break a smile.

“You sure?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

Jimin nodded and turned back to face the front of the classroom.

“Thanks though!” he snapped his head back around quickly, not wanting to be rude.

Jungkook gave a thin but sincere smile his long wavy hair bouncing as he nodded towards Jimin.  

The group returned to discussing more things about this friend of theirs.

Hoseok was what they had called him.  Occasionally the name Hobi came from the lips of a couple of them, but Jimin assumed that was a nickname.  It was a cute nickname.

Something about it made Jimin smile to himself and he realized he’d now been doodling flowers on his class notes.  He used to do that quite a bit back when he was younger in school.  It’d been a while.

Getting to daydream on the thought of this Hoseok and his luxurious and confident lifestyle as a cam-boy had Jimin feeling like he had a new superhero.

Jimin was a plain person, that was how he viewed himself.

His father’s job had his family moving every summer so he hadn’t ever made lasting friends.  In fact, the past two years he’d been staying at this university was the longest he’d stayed in one place since he was a child.

He sighed and noticed his doodles had gone all over his page and he was running out of room.

The professor finally arrived, and looked to the group of boys who were still gathered behind Jimin.

“Hello! I appreciate your interest in creative writing class, maybe you can sign up next semester!” He spoke in a sarcastic tone as he waved them out.

The one from the group still sitting at his desk must be the only one actually in the class, Jimin assumed.  Not surprised at himself for being a month into school and not noticing anyone.

Not noticing things, and not being noticed had been a habit for Jimin.  It kept him from getting attached to one place too long.  From any person too long.

The one from the group still at the desk had never come onto Jimin's radar.  He didn’t even know his name.  He was an interesting looking person, messy hair that looked wet just like the blonde man’s hair had, though he had a wavy mop of brown hair instead.

The group made their way out the door, passing Jimin's desk on their way.  One of them that hadn’t spoken to him stood out to Jimin, an even taller man with the sides of his head shaved and his blonde hair slicked back had his arm around Jungkook now.

The two stopped at Jimin's desk.  He felt his entire body tense up and he slowly lifted his head to meet them.

Jungkook chuckled and slipped a piece of paper under the bottom of Jimin’s notebook.

He hung his jaw and his mouth was wide open waiting for words to come out to protest, but nothing came.

“Just check him out.” Jungkook winked and then the taller man tightened his grip on him and turned with him to walk away, chuckling and shaking his head at his partner.

“You’re like his fucking pimp.” The sleepy looking man laughed as he shook his head.

The group of them left, chatting and laughing the whole way out the door.

Jimin’s eyes followed them the whole way out before snapping back down to the paper under his notebook.

The friend left behind leaned forward and tapped Jimin on the shoulder.

“Sorry about them.” He laughed.  He was leaning so far forward that Jimin thought he might topple over. “I’m Taehyung by the way!” He was actually extending out his hand to shake Jimin’s.  

That was genuinely amusing and he couldn’t help but find this man absolutely goofy and adorable.  

“Jimin.” He replied, cautiously putting his hand in the other man’s.  “That’s cool you shake hands.” He spoke awkwardly, unsure of what else to say.

“Yeah?” Taehyung simply cocked an eyebrow at him, returning to his seat and turning silent.

The professor called everyone to attention and the class began.

Jimin worried that his last comment had been strange and spent the entire lesson overthinking just that.

Completely forgetting the small slip of paper still sitting under his notebook.

After class was over Jimin stood and started to gather his things. He was tapped on the shoulder again and he turned to once again see Taehyung.

“Are you gonna do it?” Taehyung asked, his voice in a slight excited song, as if he was a young school boy talking to another about a dare.

“You’re quite nosy.” Jimin returned, awkwardly reaching for the note Jungkook had slipped him and putting it in the back pocket of his jeans.

“Says the man listening in while we talk about our friend stripping online.” Taehyung laughed.

“Fair.” Jimin laughed nervously, bringing his hand up to slide through his long dirty blonde hair that could use a bit of touch up as his dark roots were coming in. “I was more interested in the money than your friend.  To clear things up.” Jimin threw the words out quickly.

Taehyung had slung his bag over his shoulder and was now walking past Jimin.

“Sure.” He winked, shaking his head and laughing.

Jimin reached into his back pocket after Taehyung had cleared the room and he was sure no one was looking over his shoulder.  He pulled out the rolled up note and slowly unwrapped it with his hands.  Jimin wasn’t sure why he was nervous, but something about this had his heart thudding.

He’d watched porn a few times.  If you count ‘googling “ass” online and panicking when the first pop-up ad came up’ watching porn.  Then yes.  Jimin had seen porn.  There was nothing to be nervous about, he continued to assure himself.  It was only the name.  It's not like a naked picture of the man was going to drop out of it.

He took a deep breath in and opened it all the way.

J-hope

He exhaled quite loudly and chuckled.  He didn’t know why he was expecting something like “dick pumper6969” to be on the paper in front of him, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was more of a stage name.

That fact though certainly didn’t make Jimin any less intimidated.

Was he really thinking about doing this?

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

Yes.  

He was.

Now back at his solo dorm that he’d landed thanks to his father’s deep canyon of a wallet, Jimin was relaxed in his bed.

Fully clothed in his light blue plaid pajama bottoms and a loose grey t-shirt.  Jimin had been very clear with himself he wasn’t going to jack off.  No.  This was for research.

Jungkook hadn’t given this to him for that reason.  That talk about “J-hope” liking cute guys watching him was a joke right?  

Maybe all of this was a joke…

Jimin almost shut the laptop in front of him in panic.  The light blue glow of the screen was the only thing lighting up the room.  Lighting up Jimin’s nervous quivering lips as he typed the name into the search bar on the site that Jungkook had listed under it.

It was almost too easy how quickly he was able to locate him.  A small part of Jimin had wished that there was no J-hope and that this was just a weird moment in life he could forget about.

But,  the small thumbnail popped right under Jimin's cursor as if by fate.

He could see a screen captured image of a man with a beautiful smile, the biggest he’d ever seen, and also the biggest… holy…

Jimin slammed the laptop quickly.  It closed with a smack and Jimin was a bit nervous he’d cracked his screen.

Though the main thing on his mind was…

That…

Jimin felt himself almost involuntarily gulp.

He’d always been sure of his sexuality, he knew that girls weren’t his preferred attraction, but he did find some quite beautiful, and he’d also learned that men made him blush more than he’d ever thought possible.

On both accounts he was a nervous wreck.  Maybe that's why he was still a virgin.

Maybe that's why when he saw that on the screen he almost forgot how to breath.

He’d never seen a cock that beautiful.

Of course he hadn’t seen many.  But even if someone hadn’t seen many…

What Jimin had just seen was something to behold.

J-hope had been sitting shirtless in a large black leather chair that seemed to be rolled up to his desk his laptop and camera were sitting on.

Jimin’s eyes didn’t have much time to linger on the bedroom decor before they snapped front and center to the middle of J-hope’s thumbnail.  He was flexing slightly, his toned abs curling in slightly as his hand was gripping his long and hard length.  Jimin found himself thinking that it was honestly one of the most glorious things he’d ever witnessed.

He was tempted to open the laptop back up.  But he’d promised himself he wasn’t going to jack off while watching Jungkook and Taehyung’s friend.  

He already felt slightly pervy from how much he was turned on, and how hard his own cock already was now while picturing J-hope’s fingers wrapped around his dick.  Picturing only seconds ago when he was curling them around the base, his thumb had only been just barely resting against his middle finger.  Jimin gulped.  He needed to see more.

The laptop was back on his lap and slowly and cautiously being opened.

Now back on the page, Jimin was giving himself a small pep talk.  This gorgeous man was behind a screen and so was he.   There was no reason to be nervous.

He was already on the page where J-hope's thumbnail still showed his room.  Jimin felt quick fluttering against the inside of his chest and took a few more deep breaths to calm himself down.  His curiosity was stronger than his nervousness.  

 All he needed to do was one *Click*

Jimin gasped slightly, it seemed his fingers decided to just go for it.

Now, much larger and much closer, the image of J-hope seemed to smile right in at Jimin in his own bedroom.  As if he was looking right at him, his dark and heavy lidded eyes stared directly into the camera as he slowly gave shallow pumps with his hand to the base of his cock.

Jimin gulped once more.

Suddenly there was a loud sound of a bell that had Jimin nearly jumping out of his bed in surprise.  His hand quickly shot to turn his volume down a few notches, and he caught a glimpse of a message on the screen.

Next to the large video of J-hope that was taking up half of the screen, was a chat room.  The newest message was highlighted in a bright blue, the username was long and almost unreadable with lots of numbers.   Another number stood out to Jimin though.  After the username was written : tipped 4000 tokens.

The smiling man on screen leaned forward towards the camera.

Jimin couldn’t help but squeak in response to the slow wink and lip bite that he performed while making eye contact with the camera.  Again, Jimin couldn’t help but feel like he was looking directly at him.  

He was so good.  He literally was shining charisma out of every pore.  If he even had pores…

Jimin was starting to think there were no flaws to be found in him.  It was intimidating, and sexy, and definitely not helping the situation that  had grown in Jimin’s pants that he was desperately trying to ignore.

He decided to tear his eyes away from the man on his laptop and to look up what that 4000 token tip had actually meant.

Then he looked it up on at least five other sites before finally believing that yes.  In just the couple minutes Jimin had been tuned in J-hope had already almost made what Jimin made in a week at his part time job. In one tip.

His jaw hung open and his eyes shot back to the screen to watch as more tips were rolling in.  Some only 1 token at a time, some by the hundreds.  

J-hope had returned to leaning back in his chair, relaxing as he stroked himself.  Occasionally he bit at his lip, he’d let it roughly roll between his teeth, letting out low breathy grunts.

Jimin was hypnotized by it now.  He didn’t know what to be more in awe of.  The complete god in front of him to the left, or the constant incoming stream of money that he was making.

“I’m getting close, where should I cum?” He spoke.

It was the first time he’d spoken.  And *those* were the filthy words falling from his lips.

Jimin felt himself almost cum in his pajama pants right then.

The largest amount of tokens Jimin had seen him receive yet came in along with a message from the tipper saying “In hand,  Then show.”

J-hope’s messy and now damp hair was clinging to his forehead in the sexiest way.  He gave one small nod to the camera.  

Then threw his head back parting his mouth as he let out a few more louder moans, he’d been edging himself for quite some time and it was obvious by his now shaking thighs that he wasn’t going to last for much longer.

The entire chat was filled with tips, from 1 token all the way to 1000.

Jimin didn’t quite mean to do what he did next.  More so he’d like to think that he had no control over the way his hands moved the laptop off of his lap.  Or the way that they quickly slid into his pajama pants and tugged at his own hard and aching cock needily along with J-hope.

Like the man had him in a trance, Jimin's eyes could not leave the screen and hips were now lifting slightly off the bed.  His lips were hung open in a part and his tongue was begging to taste the man on the other side of the screen and his hand was quickly and desperately moving up and down his length as he stared in awe.

At the same time both men let out a loud moan.  The other man in more of a growl, and Jimin falling into a series of whimpers and whines.

Jimin felt his body shake as he finally reached the high he’d been chasing.  It was like nothing he’d felt before.  To know that the man on the other side of the screen was live meant they’d actually just came together at the same time.  

Jimin started to feel somewhat special about that fact before he quickly came back to the reality that more than likely so had many other people watching this man.  Something close to jealousy prickled in Jimin’s chest for a moment, and he decided to shove it deep down and go back to paying attention to the very naked man still in front of him on his screen.

J-hope was giving the camera the perfect angle of his cock as it twitched, his hand that was not still wrapped around and milking out his cum was messily catching all he could and pooling it in his hand.

Jimin’s eyes still hadn’t left for a moment.  Having just came inside his pajama pants he now felt like a completely dirty mess, he could feel the sticky heat against his inner thigh now dripping down. But he didn’t want to get up to clean himself up.  Not while J-hope was still online, he couldn’t tear himself away.

Jimin knew it was likely just the lingering effects of the comedown of a great cum...but watching J-hope’s casual way of smirking and cockily joking with the members in the chat had him feeling like he was falling in love.  

Or maybe that was the point wasn’t it?

Jimin now realized the obvious, all of these other users on here were likely falling under the same infatuation.  

That’s what made him so good.

J-hope continued to chat with the members in his room for a bit and Jimin watched every moment of it until he said his goodbyes.

At the end of the night the man that Jungkook and his friends had told him about really had made more than what Jimin could hope to make in an entire month.

He’d also managed to leave Jimin a mess in his bed in a matter of minutes.  With both of those things together Jimin knew his interest in this man wouldn’t be going away for a long time.

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

A few days later Jimin was heading back into his class he shared with Taehyung.  He was feeling a bit nervous that Taehyung would ask him how it went, or if Jungkook would be there to follow through on whether or not he looked in at it.

Another part of him also hoped they’d just forgotten about it, maybe it really was normal for Jungkook to just randomly try and gain his friend new viewers and they wouldn’t even remember Jimin was one of them.

He walked into the class nervously, keeping his head down as usual, until he got to his seat, noticing an extra figure gathered around Taehyung's desk with the group that had been there before.

No...It couldn’t be…

Jimin sat down in his seat quickly and turned his head to face front, even though nothing was occurring at the front of the class, he acted like the blank whiteboard in front of him had the most interesting information he’d ever learned on it.

Because, behind him right now was Hoseok.

His stomach was filled with butterflies and his mind was spinning so fast he felt a bit dizzy.

The group had fallen hush when Jimin walked in, he heard a small chuckle from Jungkook and felt as if all the eyes had turned to him.

“Him?”

Jimin heard a soft whisper from a familiar voice say.  

He silently prayed that they were talking about anything else but him.  Though that seemed to be quite a big reach.

He gulped and pretended not to notice, pulling out his notebook and trying to go about class as usual.

There was a soft chuckle from Hoseok and another boy tsk’d and said “He’s shy huh?”

Jimin choked on a sharp breath he’d been taking in and tried to play it off as clearing his throat, still trying his best to not turn around, to pretend that this embarrassing moment wasn't happening.

Suddenly the empty seat next to him was being filled by the last person he wanted from the group to approach him.

Hoseok was wearing casual sweatpants and a red jacket that read the name of their university along with “swim team” on it.  That explained the wet messy hair of the group he’d always noticed.

Hoseok was also rocking a damp and tousled look, more beautiful than anything Jimin had ever seen.  He was casually propping his head up with his hand, his elbow relaxed on the desk in front of him as he grinned at Jimin.

“Hi.” His sweet silky voice spoke.  

Jimin shouldn’t have been startled, he’d noticed him sit down, yet he almost jumped out of his skin still.  Wide-eyed he turned to face the man sitting beside him.

He was already laughing and shaking his head, seeming very amused by Jimin’s jumpiness.

“So I’m assuming you recognize me.” He smirked and winked at Jimin, who was now thoroughly mortified.

Why in the world would he bring that up so casually.  It was only a theory but now Jimin definitely knew Jungkook had told his friend about the shy boy he’d given his name out to.

“I-I-I” Was the only thing Jimin could let out from his quivering lips.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow.  “Oh god.” He laughed “So yes.” he winked at him.  Bringing back memories from the night Jimin had seen him wink so charismatically at his camera, and memories of....

No. He can't think of that right now.  Not with him right next to him.

“I-I’m sorry.” Jimin managed out.

Hoseok shifted back in his seat a bit now crossing his arms, “You’re sorry? Why’s that?”

He was so relaxed and confident and just everything Jimin felt that he wasn’t.

“I’m sorry I looked, your friends...they said…” Jimin shook his head, not even wanting to finish.  He looked down to his lap, not able to meet the other man’s eyes.

Hoseok belly laughed at that.  

“Nothing to be sorry for.  I’ve told them they can do that.  I obviously don’t hate people watching.” He winked again.

Jimin nodded, still unsure of what Hoseok was doing here talking to him, it seemed almost as if he just wanted to embarrass him, to get a reaction from him.

“Okay.” Jimin said simply, briefly meeting Hoseok's beautiful and amused gaze.

“They also said you were really interested in the money aspect of it all.” He spoke more seriously. “Did you wanna ask me anything about it?”

“Oh!” Jimin suddenly squeaked out. “Yeah...that's really all I was wondering, I’m really sorry if this came off weird.”  seizing his opportunity to deflect from the fact that he’d definitely watched this man cum before.

But instead of matching his now more confident way of speaking, Hoseok's face seemed to fall slightly.

“Ah, yeah that was all.” He muttered, his lips curled up into a tiny smirk, almost a fake smile as if he was trying to hide some form of disappointment he was feeling. He shook his head.  “Nothing weird about any of it.”

They were both quiet for only a few seconds, that felt like hours to Jimin.

“Can...Can I ask how much you make in a month on there?” Jimin asked to hopefully keep conversation with Hoseok, who didn’t seem to be wanting to leave and return to his friends who had all gone back into talking about swim practice or something Jimin could barely hear.

Hoseok told him and laughed at the way Jimin’s eyes bugged out of his head.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Hoseok smiled that confident smile at him. “Have you ever thought about trying it?”

Jimin returned with a nervous laugh. “Oh no.  i could never.”  he then added in a “No offence” in case Hoseok took that as an insult.

“I’m not confident like you.”

Without a moment's hesitation Hoseok was grabbing Jimin by the chin and turning his face left to right, snatching the breath right out from Jimin’s lungs as he did.

He looked Jimin over and up and down.

“Sometimes when you’re that cute you don’t even need confidence.  Some guys like the shy thing.” Hoseok then retracted his hand back, leaving Jimin to sit in pure astonishment at his touch.  Jimin could still feel his soft fingertips against his chin even after he’d pulled away, and his mouth was now hanging open slightly.

“I-I’m not…” Without the distraction of his touch, he now realized what Hoseok had actually said.

“You are.” Hoseok spoke as if it was an unarguable fact.

At that moment the professor got there and the group of men behind them started to gather their things to leave.

“Hobi!” one of them called out, motioning for their friend it was time to go.

He nodded a small nod to the tall man who’d spoken, the one that seemed to be Jungkook’s boyfriend, and then turned back to Jimin.

“If you wanna talk more about it…” He gently took Jimin’s hand in his, taking his breath right from him again, he put a small piece of paper in his hand and took his other hand to gently curl Jimin's fingers closed around it.

He then stood up and followed his friends down the side of the classroom to leave, they seemed to be teasing him about their interaction, which made Jimin blush as he stared on.

Hoseok gave one last look his way before leaving, his smile was so genuine and pure.

Forgetting that one friend of his was still left behind him, Jimin let out an airy sigh and unrolled the paper in his hand.

“So he gave you his number?” Taehyung chuckled, “That's so Hobi.”

Indeed on the paper was a phone number with the name Hobi and a heart drawn over the dot on the “i”.

‘That's so Hobi’.  

So he did this type of thing often.  Jimin tried to not get a big head about it, the man was probably just a flirt trying to make more money on his cam site right?

That or he always used it as his go-to pick up line.  Either way, Jimin didn’t feel like entertaining someone who might be a player.  He felt his heart sink a bit at that.

Once again he’d found himself starting to feel special for this man’s attention, when it was likely only the act he gave everyone.

He wouldn’t text him.

[uwuderes]

Doll

Meet my new obsession. please tell me what you guys think and if I should write more Stranger Things. Billy is my favorite character just because I have crippling daddy issues.

⚠Warning⚠: Noncon touching, language, somewhat spoilers

You and Steve sat together at a lunch table talking and making jokes as you drew away in your sketchpad. You enjoyed his company you two being very close friends. Especially since Nancy didn't seem to want to be around him anymore preferring to spend it with Jonathan doing god knows what.

"(Y/N) are you going to eat some more? You only ate a little bit." Steve asked as you doodled. You looked up and smiled softly at the male.

"Yeah I'm full. Don't worry though. Your the one who needs to eat Mr. Basketball player." You jokingly said making Steve roll his eyes and take another bite of the sandwich he brought from home.

You looked back down doodling some more until one stroke you did too hard making your lead snap. You sighed before tapping Steve lightly.

"Um , I'm going to head to my locker my pencil just broke and I didn't bring my sharpener" You said getting up taking your doodles in your hands.

"Oh okay just remember to come back afterwards alright? I still have to bring you home after this." He said shooting a sweet smile at you. You smiled nodding your head before walking to the double doors of the lunchroom heading into the hallway. You hummed to yourself finding your locker and opening it you placed your sketchpad in and just as you were about to close it you jumped as you heard a loud bang right next to your ear.

"Hey doll.~"

You looked over and saw the new heart throb of Hawkins, Billy Hargrove. He eyed you up and down as you grew more and more uncomfortable. "Um hi-" You could feel your palms get sweaty as he continued to eye you.

"(Y/N) isn't it?" He said leaning on the locker next to your own with a smirk on his face. You nodded looking down at your feet. Why was he talking to you of all people? You literally had no status at all in Hawkins. "It's adorable when you get all shy and timid like that." His thumb rested on the side of your face slighting stroking your cheek and making you look back at him at the same time.

"Your so fucking sexy doll" Billy growled inching his face closer to yours. His hand stayed in its original position while his other one moved to your waist. "Surprised no one has snatched you up yet." He growled in your ear. You could feel the slightest of goosebumps appear on your skin

"I-I'm- Billy I'm not really looking for anyth-" You were cut off by Billy gripping your waist tighter. You hissed out in pain as you felt his nails dig your skin, heat emitting from the area.

"What do you mean not looking, it's not really your job to want it now is it?" His voice was really low almost feral. "Is it?" Your voice got stuck in your throat. You couldn't respond you just couldn't. You could feel yourself gradually get dizzier and dizzier.

"I said IS IT?!" He yelled at you only making you whimper and try to cower away from the enraged male. You yelped as he was pulled away from you only for Steve to show up and be quick to grab you by your arm and pull you away. "Harrison, what the fuck are you doing huh?"

"She said she wasn't looking for that you prick!" Steve said defending you. Steve pushed you behind him trying to calm yourself down.

"I'm gonna kill you Harrison..." Billy hissed out. Steve only rolled his eyes and muttered yeah right before turning around and leading you away. You looked back at Billy who stared you down. His jaw was clenched, his muscles were tense. He huffed staring you down.

"You didn't have to do that..." You say as he opened the doors to the school.

"Well your my friend what did you want me to do? "Watch as he groped you? Plus I'm your ride home remember?" Steve said flicking you on your forehead making you giggle.

But that was then and this is now. You've been dragged into this mess dealing with the Mind Flayer and were trying to stop it. You were with the kids and Steve. You both had to keep them safe which is very hard considering how much these kids wanted to help.

You sat down on the couch getting more and more stressed. All they did was bicker back and forth and you just needed a break from it all. You sighed getting up and heading to the front door. "Hey where are you going??" Steve called after you the kids following close behind.

"To get some fresh air. Its getting stuffy in here." You said leaving without another word. You stood there taking a breath of fresh air. The moonlight shone on your skin and it all was at peace.

You suddenly heard speeding all of a sudden and bright head lights shone in your eyes nearly blinding you, breaking you from your momentary peacefulness. You jumped out of the way as you recognized the license plate.

Billy...

You turned around seeing the kids peering through the window, Max looking much more afraid than anyone else. You quickly turned back around upon hearing one of the cars doors slam open and close. "Oh I did not expect for you to be here of all places."

"W-What are you doing here...?" You said going towards him. You gulped watching as he basically undressed you with his eyes. You felt disgusted but you had to get him from around here for both the kids and his own safety.

"Oh doll, you see I was just you know looking for my sister Maxine. Red head? Bit of a bitch." Billy said nonchalantly stepping forwards. You stood your ground trying to come off as confident, but in reality you were afraid. This was the same man who groped you not even a week ago. Who knows what he could do to you right now.

"Um I never heard of her-" You were cut off as Billy grabbed your wrist pulling you forwards.

"Lets cut the bullshit (Y/N). I know shes here. But you see, in all honesty I don't really care. I'm just supposed to find her... Not bring her home.... So I was thinking since you seem to not be doing anything we can go out tonight... Just you... And me... All alone." Billy moved a strand of your (Hair color) hair from you face as you gasped all signs of breath leaving your body in a rush.

"You need to leave..." You muttered quietly. You used your other hand and pushed yourself away from him, only to fall on your back. You looked up seeing the same thing you saw the day Steve pulled you away from him the first time he tried to come onto you. He was pissed but only smiled and laughed.

"Oh your so dead you fucking bitch!" He yelled reaching down, grabbing your ankle beginning to drag you. You kicked frantically successfully getting him in the chest. You started to make your way back to the front door crawling slowly. Your eyes started to tear up trying to move faster. You looked up seeing Steve running towards you. He grabbed your hand and hauled you up, an angry Billy close behind, stomping furiously towards you two, slowly picking up speed with each step.

Steve picked up the pace rushing you both back into the house. He locked the door you both holding it back for extra security. "You guys need to hide!1 Now!" You said as they all looked at you alarmingly. You felt Max's hand grip your sleeve as she yanked you forward.

"No! I can handle him just open the do-"

"LET ME IN YOU FUCKING BITCH! OH YOUR SO FUCKING DEAD!" You all jumped as the door banged loudly and both your bodies lurched forwards, colliding back on the door. You looked back down at Max. She gulped before nodded for you to open the door.

Your hands shook as Steve moved slowly from in front the door. You opened the door only for it to be slammed open. You jumped back as he huffed at you all. He looked directly into your eyes and charged at you slamming you against the wall. You cried out looking past him seeing the kids behind Steve. "B-Billy ple-please don't hurt them. I-I beg of you please..." You choked out. Billy only laughed at you licking from your neck up to your ear.

"Anything?~" He purred into your ear seductively. You nodded frantically starting to see dark spots. Billy smiled wickedly. You looked behind him seeing Steve charge turning Billy around and punching him square in the jaw, making his grip loosen and dropping you to the ground. You gasped trying to catch your breath. Your mind went blank trying to process what was even going on.

So much yelling...

Your vision came back quicker than expected but not to a pretty sight. Steve and Billy were going at it, punching and throwing things at one another. You stumbled to your feet heading towards the kids. "Mike all of you need to go right now. So listen to me okay. All of you need to get in that car and go, I don't care who drives but you need to go. Grab Steves bat and when I get Billy off his back drag him to the car and leave. I'm not coming."

"Wait no (Y/N)- You have to come!" Dustin protested. "Yes, (Y/N) you don't know how crazy that man actually is! He's obsessed desulsio-" You cut Max off by placing a finger over her lips. You smiled seeing how much they actually cared for you.

"I got this now go." Max nodded as she motioned for them to follow her. They waited quietly by the door.

Billy was on Steve landing punches left and right in a blind anger. All the while laughing as his knuckles got bloodier and bloodier. You gulped before grabbing Billys shoulder and pulled him off Steve. You fell back not expecting for him to be so heavy. Hes a man that worked out almost every day what did you expect. His head turned around angrily looking at you. "Oh your screwed now doll.~" He said lowly. Billy quickly got on you groping all he could get his hands on.

You looked past Billy seeing Mike and Lucas dragging Steve away. You yelled out in pain feeling bite marks make creases into your neck. Struggling to move your hand you reached into his pants pocket trying to feel for his keys. Billy grabbed your hand moving it to his growing erection, letting out a moan as you did so. You felt shivers run down your spine and cringed. It has to be the other pocket...

"Come on I know you fucking want this!" Billy yelled sitting up frustrated. You took your chance and reached into his other pocket pulling out the keys. You threw them to Max. She quickly opens the door and leaves. Billy freaked out looking back as his car started abruptly. You watched as Max drove away hitting all kinds of things pulling out and away to the main road.

"You bitch... You wanted them to steal it..." Billy said lowly turning towards you. You gulped as he leaned down to stroke your hair. You whimpered under him his eyes filled with madness and mixed with lust.

"Don't be scared baby... I'm not mad... I'm actually so fucking proud of you..." He continued looking around the destroyed Byers house, all the while stroking your cheek. His hand lowered down to your chest, playing with the collar of your shirt.

"You just gave us so much time to have some fun you and me. Together forever..."

You were screwed.

[philliamwrites]

killing me softly with his song | (Childe / Reader) [chpt.02]

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Childe / Reader

Tags: #fem!reader, #from childhood friends to lovers, #reader is a fatui agent, #slow burn, #unresolved sexual tension, #mature language, #forbidden love

Words: 3.5k

Summary: "Lybuov zla, polyubish i kozla,“ sighs your sister as she wipes off the table, but that makes you feel even more miserable. Falling for a goat might save you from an actual heartbreak by Tartaglia’s hands.

Notes: Part 1

Masterlist

Chapter 2

At the barracks’ canteen reigns the unspoken rule that no one is allowed to cook borsch, and trying to do so is punished by cleaning all windows with cold water only in the middle of the night. Can’t see anything because the nights at the outskirts of Zapolyarny are blacker than out in the taiga? Tough luck. There are so many different recipes as there are families out there, and everyone has their very own way to make it. Fatui agents have brought each other to the hospital wing over fighting which recipe is the best, therefore a couple of years before Tartaglia and you enrolled, this rule was established.

Sitting out in the cold of Jaroslawk at four in the morning, you’d kill for a hot bowl of your mamochka’s borsch—the best in Morepesok even though Tartaglia begs to differ, but the only problem with his claim is that he is fucking wrong.

Through your binoculars you see everything is quiet and dark on the other side of the compound, which is a good sign. Unfortunately, good also means very boring. You’ve been lying in the exact same position for nearly three hours now: on your belly, elbows slightly propping your upper body to see the Baron’s estate that’s embraced by a forest like a mother cradling its child. Tales have it if you make even one little mistake inside those cold brick walls, Baron Igor would personally see to it that you don’t leave these woods alive and whatever his hellish guard dogs don’t finish eating up, his servants would send to your family as a small parting gift and warning to get as far and fast away as possible.

If only he were as thorough covering his tracks as he is scaring people, but Baron Igor has never really excelled at multiple things and now, months after the first little bird brought some interesting insight, you can’t wait for Baron Igor to finally slip and confirm the rumours about him selling information on one of Il Dottore’s gun research labs to a spy from Sumeru. Intel has it exchanges usually occur once every full moon and with the orb now hidden behind thick, black clouds, this is the last chance to get some evidence before the ship leaving to Sumeru carries whoever deserves a knife in their windpipe back to their God of Wisdom.

Baron Igor has messed up, got too arrogant, and now you and your team are here to make sure he eats up his mess. It wasn’t easy to infiltrate his mansion. Mitsuki only passed because you took out two of the other contesters for one of the Baron’s favourite restaurants down in Nowobirsk. That man bows to greed and when introduced to the place’s new maître d’hôtel—the best of his kind, the most exotic to own during their flimsy ceasefire with Inazuma—Baron Igor acted swiftly and hired him. Mitsuki had gagged at those words while lieutenant Scaramouche had shown the patience of a man barely holding himself back from violence. Two days later, Mitsuki took his position as spy and head waiter of the Baron’s personal restaurant taking up the whole second floor in the right wing of his stone mansion.

“Fuck me, I look like a penguin,” Mitsuki had said on the night before his work began at the estate, glaring at himself in the mirror dressed in a sharply tailored tuxedo.

“Then we know who to call if Baron Igor decides to open a zoo,” Mikhail had said, but he was in no hurry to turn away his appreciative gaze from how tight Mitsuki’s black pants tugged his slim legs and ass.

That’s the team, Mitsuki, you and Mikhail—Lock, Shock and Barrel, one of your fellow division’s comrade likes to call you for unknown reasons, simply laughing to himself and shaking his head as if trying to get rid of a good memory. Though for all that Scaramouche is concerned, to him you’re triple double and a clusterfuck he doesn’t want anywhere near him or so help him Her Majesty the Tsaritsa, he’ll stake your heads and scatter your remains to the seagulls terrorising the coast of Port Odessa.

“He loves us,” Mikhail likes to joke, even though you aren’t sure the words love and Scaramouche should be used in one sentence.

“One day, he’ll kill one of us with his bear hands and feel nothing,” Mitsuki commonly remarks, sounding like whatever you’d do to receive such a punishment is probably ghastly enough to justify being murdered.

“His hat is pretty neat,” is usually your only contribution and they both look at you as if you’re crazy.

“Any movement?” a voice asks from your right. Mikhail shakes still fresh snow from his head and shoulders as he dugs under the narrow doorway, looking like a puppy trying to shake itself dry. Now that a year has passed since a Geo Vision user crushed his right arm and healers had to amputate it to save his life, he’s adapted pretty well to only one arm and hand at his disposal. He’s balancing a cup in his palm while holding two paper bags with his fingers and somehow makes it look easy. He rejoins you at the window, carefully placing the steaming cup and one bag in front of you. You hand him your binoculars so he can see for himself, and inspect your breakfast. “Do I even want to know where you found,” you peak inside the bag, “pirozhky at a time like this?”

“Couple of blocks down there’s this place. Really nice lady, gave me one for free and added a little extra to our coffee.”

You take a sip, and instantly begin coughing and pounding your chest as it goes down burning. “Archons, that’s disgusting. Who in their right mind puts Fire-Water in their coffee?”

“I know, right?” Mikhail beams. “It’s genius.”

It’s ghastly. You take another sip. Horrible, really. But it keeps you warm and awake. So maybe it isn’t that bad at all.

While Mikhail observes the area, you dig into your beef and onion pirozhky. There’s nothing fun about pulling an all-nighter but sometimes sharing a cup of coffee and eating warm food helps to get through them. Also knowing someone suffers with you. Sharing pain is gain, after all.

“Well, they sure like taking their sweet time,” Mikhail mumbles, getting a little more comfortable on the cold stone ground. He puts the binoculars away and digs into his own food. “What are we gonna do if nothing happens today?”

“Then we’ll come back next month and do it all over again.” Hopefully you don’t have to. Fyrva’snezh was two weeks ago but this winter started off particularly brutal. Two out of three units are still missing from their outskirts training and you don’t want to be in the poor lasses’ and lads’ shoes who are still at the infirmary recovering from severe hypothermia. “What worries me more is that Mitsuki might lose his sanity if he stays there another whole month.”

“Well, what doesn’t kill him makes him stronger,” Mikhail says, wiping his greasy fingers off his pants. “I just want to wipe that smug smirk off the Baron’s pig face.”

He and probably every citizen populating Jaroslawk. “Once Mitsuki locates the communication point, we’ll go in and neutralise the target if we can’t catch him alive,” you say. “Baron Igor will try and weasel his way out of it but so far all evidence stands against him. The rest is up to Her Majesty.” And the Tsaritsa is known for many things, but mercy isn’t one of them. That will show anyone else trying to make business behind her back.

“Do you really think Mitsuki will endure another month in that stupidly tight uniform?” Mikhail sounds like he very much wished for another month out in the cold like this if it meant Mitsuki would bless him for a while longer wearing his uniform.

You stretch your leg and kick him in his shin. “Don’t jinx this, Nozhyalensky,” you say. “No matter how good his ass looks in those pants, it isn’t worth freezing your own ass off out in this cold. If we have to extend our mission, I’m going to steal your coat and own it for the whole time.”

“You don’t care if I freeze to death?”

“I really don’t.”

He puts his hand on his heart in mock despair. “That’s harsh.”

It would be his own fault, no hard feelings. You sit in silence, sharing your scalding hot coffee. In the mansion on the other side, a light flickers on in the east wing. Mikhail shifts and makes a disgusted grunt. “I did not want to know the Baron is banging the Duchess of Pavlovich.”

“Might be good leverage in the future.” You quickly dot it down in your notebook, squinting at the barely illuminated page. “Especially if the Duke refuses to pay his taxes again. I’m sure we can get to him through her.”

More minutes pass in silence. Mikhail continues his watch while you start to mindlessly doodle a little Foul Legacy Child in the corner of your page. You wonder what time it is in Liyue. Is Childe also out on a mission or tugged in and sleeping well in a land that knows nothing of harsh winds and freezing nights. Does he spare a thought of home? Is he missing you as much as you miss him or has he already filled the gnawing void with faceless, warm women that comfort him at night?

“Heard anything from our comrades in Liyue?” Mikhail asks nonchalantly, but he’s always been the poorest liar of you three and it’s pretty obvious where this conversation is going. Part of you hungers for that conflict.

“They still can’t find whoever killed the Geo Archon. But Lord Childe might have located the Gnosis and has begun his infiltration.”

Chances are good he might succeed in another month or so, though from the letters you’ve received so far, it sounds like he might succeed fucking the consultant of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor before that. Tartaglia has never started anything serious with guys before, safe from occasionally drunk making outs, but new cultures could change a lot in you and it’s Tartaglia’s first time staying for so long in Liyue and meeting a man like this so called Zhongli.

Mikhail clicks his tongue in disgust. “I can’t believe this guy is over there for three months already and is still nowhere near finishing the job.” He spits at the ground and twists his mouth in a very familiar manner of annoyance—only usually this expression is meant for initiate Fatui members who can’t tell a shotgun from a sniper rifle.

“How can you still be mad at him for handing you your ass three years ago,” you say. A man’s ego is such a frail thing, thank the Tsaritsa for being a strong, independent woman.

“This isn’t about that stupid fight,” Mikhail splutters, red blotches creeping up his neck. His inability to lie is abysmal. “I don’t get how you stand that guy. His arrogance needs its own giant room to fit inside. Someone needs to knock him down a peg or two and maybe beat out this need to whore around as well—”

You move in a flash. Mikhail doesn’t have any time to react before he finds himself on his back, pinned down by your weight with a knife to his throat. “Mikhail, I love you like my own kin and you know I’d take a bullet for you any time,” you growl. “But speak another filthy word about Childe and I will cut off your tongue and feed it to street dogs while watching you bleed out like a slaughtered pig. Are we clear?”

You feel Mikhail’s chest rising and falling under your spread hand, his body warm, proof of his life. How easy it would be to take it from him, to warm the cold, dirty ground with his blood.

Mikhail’s dark eyes don’t give away anything. He’s holding very still, like a cornered animal faced with its hunter; don’t move and maybe it thinks one is dead. Eventually, he says quietly, “If you could see what an unlikeable, unpleasant person he really is, maybe...” He doesn't finish. There is no need to. You know very well what point he’s trying to make.

“I don’t need your supervision,” you say. “Or your pity.”

Mikhail barks a loud, humourless laugh. “Lassie, if I had an ounce of pity left for anyone else than myself, I wouldn’t be very good at this job, would I?”

You shift your weight. Mikhail groans as you put pressure on a wound a Pyro Vision user inflicted on him a week ago that hasn’t fully healed yet—a favour for Mikhail to prevent him from following his train of thought. You don’t know what is worse: His unrequited love for Mitsuki or Tartaglia and you knowing what you both want but can’t have.

Mikhail quietly says your name and gently lowers your hand. The sharp knife has bit into his skin just enough to leave a fine, red line on his throat. “All I’m saying is, I am not the bad guy here.”

He is right, of course. But that makes it even worse, because without a bad guy, who could you put blame on? Who would be the target of your frustration and your scorn? Who would pay for countless sleepless nights wasted alone or in a stranger’s arms?

If there is no good, no bad side, no villains or heroes to put blame on, what does that leave for you? Just the law. It is hard, but it is the law.

There is no one but yourself who carries the burden. Even knowing Tartaglia goes through the same doesn’t soothe the pain steadily growing in your heart. You’re like two stars gravitating to each other, seeking the sweet collision to finally become one and create something bigger, the most exquisite light in the endless black galaxy, but whenever you manage to come close to each other, other forces pull you apart.

You shift your position from towering above him to slumping back on Mikhail’s lap, your anger deflated like a balloon.

“Arguing with you is no fun,” you mumble, sheathing the knife back in its place inside your boot.

Mikhail arches one dark brow. “Learnt from the best. You don’t want to get into an argument with my mama.”

“Are you two leaving me out from a team bonding session?” comes a static voice from your left.

“Darling, we would never leave you out from a potential threesome,” Mikhail says back, a wicked grin flirting with his mouth.

“Blergh,” you groan in disgust and roll off him, grabbing for the plastic piece from where Mitsuki’s voice has sounded; Il Dottore’s newest invention, a voice transmitter agents use for long distance communication.

“So, how’s it cooking, good looking?” Mikhail asks, ignoring your eyes rolling back. “Anything new at the front?”

Mitsuki is silent for a moment. Somewhere, a dog barks. “I think someone might have tipped the Baron off.”

Immediately, you feel Mikhail's body tense next to you. “Do you need us to come in?”

Oppressive silence fills the room. Mikhail jerks, but before he can jump to rash actions, you grab his arm hard enough to bruise. He freezes, and you both stare at the voice transmitter in Mikhail’s hand.

A moment later, static crackles, and Mitsuki says, “I received a note on the caviar shipment. Roads are all clear, it should come in around seven in the morning.”

Mikhail relaxes, but a sweat bead rolls from his temple and disappears behind his black turtle neck sweater. He sags against you, exhaling very loudly.

A couple of years ago, after you three had been working together and hadn’t tried to kill each other as often as other teams, you guys had decided to come up with your own secret language for times like these. Mikhail had first complained about the hours put into learning it the most—the semantics always changing depending on what line of work you’d infiltrate—but eventually even he had agreed it was a pretty neat trick. What Mitsuki has said simply means all is in order and the mission is proceeding smoothly.

“Little fucker,” Mikhail grumbles, ruffling his own hair just to keep his hand busy. You agree. It feels like you’ve aged five years in those last five minutes.

That relief is short lived. A small explosion from the right wing inside the mansion lights up the night like a firework show. Mikhail is out of the window in a flash. You grab your rifle, keeping an eye on him as he crosses the street in a flash and climbs over the iron gate.

Two shadows tumble through the hole in the second floor. You sway your scope, laying eyes on Mitsuki as he wrestles with a cloaked figure. Purple sparks fly, clashing with crimson flames that rise skyward and turn into black smoke. At least something is according to plan even though your Cryo Vision would be more effective.

You watch them fight for a moment, unable to get a clear shot as both are short distance fighters. Mitsuki moves quicker than a flash, whirling two hatches over his head, parrying a deathly bow from the Sumeru’s Claymore. Mitsuki is smaller than most of his comrades. People like to underestimate him, but that’s part of the fun, according to him. Proving people wrong. He dodges another swift strike, rolling out of the way and giving you a clear sight at your target. But over his shoulder, Mitsuki catches your eyes and gives the tiniest shake of his head. Not yet.

You wish he could see the stingy eye you’re giving him right now. You’ve waited long enough out in this cold and your whole body shakes with the need to move, the need to fight. A quick look to Mikhail shows he’s fending off two of the Baron’s guards himself. Luckily, they can’t really hold their stand against a fully trained Fatui agent. He quickly takes out his opponents, closing in on Mitsuki and the Sumeru agent. Mitsuki has driven him to the edge of the forest. So that’s his plan. You wait until the spy is right beneath a long, thick branch, then pull the trigger. The shot is muffled by the silencer, slicing through the air with infused Cryo power. It hits its target, cutting the branch off. The Sumeru spy is too slow. When the branch buries him under its weight, Mikhail finally catches up to Mitsuki, and through your scope you can see him patting Mitsuki down for injuries. Mitsuki pushes him away, not hard or in a mean way, just enough to signal this isn’t the time. The job isn’t done yet.

Mitsuki advances the spy and kneels, looking for signs of life. He looks up, his dark eyes searching your scope. He holds your gaze, picking up his voice transmitter.

“I have good and bad news,” he says. “The spy is still alive, so we’ll get our answers. But now I’m pretty sure the Baron knows what’s going on.”

“Then don’t just stand there, someone go after him, quick!” you yell in your transmitter.

Before Mikhail dashes off, you hear him curse. “Lord Scaramouche is going to kill us.”

He will, considered this was supposed to undergo without the Baron noticing anything.

* * *

Dear little tygress,

forgive my horrible handwriting. I am still shaking from all the laughter your last letter gave me. Zhongli-xiansheng was actually worried for my wellbeing because I had choked on air and almost died. I swear, you will kill me one day, little tygress.

Speaking of little and potential lethal beasts, I’m surprised Scaramouche didn’t use your head as a toilet plunger. I really do think he's fond of you, little tygress. Any other team would be six feet under by now. You have to tell me your secret once I’m back. Scaramouche still doesn’t know I broke his favourite, ugly cup with the bear on the front from Fontaine, and I want to be prepared once he knows.

Everything is the same in Liyue, and at the same time, everything is changing. Rex Lapis’ murder is still unsolved, and I do enjoy watching the little traveller boy run around looking for answers. Once I return with the Geo Archon’s gnosis, dinner will be on me.

How are things at home? I hope Tonia hasn’t finished all mooncakes by herself again and saved some for the rest of the bunch. I can’t bear to hear Anthon cry again about me only sending sweets to Tonia and Teucer. Has the old man gotten in touch with you? He still doesn’t reply to me, but mama says he’s reading the letters. Maybe a bottle of Liyue’s Baijiu will loose his tongue, or hand for that matter. It’s almost as good as Fire-Water, promise.

Till next time and don’t get too much on little ‘Mouche’s nerves, otherwise there will be no room left for me.

Yours, Red Fox

__________________________________________________

please drop by my ko-fi if you enjoyed my writing!

[sukipershipper]

Can you spill some of ur bugsnax hcs?

I assume you mean with the characters, in which case, Yes of course!  Bear with me though that all of these are going to take place Post-Snaktooth Island. I might do some headcanons on what happened on the island but for now take these.

(SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE END OF THE GAME, I also apologize for it being so freaking long...I actually did not intend on that)

FILBO

They all lived in a small but very prosperous town, said town doesn’t have a name cause Mun isn’t creative enough to make one yet

After being elected Mayor, Filbo had learned to become more assertive with others. His role as Mayor of the small town involves him doing a few small tasks, like cleaning up the streets or helping with lessons at the schools

Other times however he is brought into meetings to plan celebrations, opening new buildings and ways they can develop the community.

His meeting council includes Floofty, who is always helping him out in terms of his decisions.

His office has all of the trinkets and maps from Liz’s adventures, as well as pictures of everything they did on Snaktooth and all the pictures she and Eggabelle have of each other.

Filbo constantly sends out letters in bottles to Snaktooth in the hopes that Liz and Egg will find it and write back. He is still waiting on a response from them

When he gets bored, he often just draws in a spare journal he has. He does this in meetings or when he’s at a lunch with the others

He had a statue of Liz and Egg made and placed in the center of the town to help remember them and what they stood for

WAMBUS/TRIFFANY

Wambus and Triffany live in a small country home just outside the town next to the beach and a small grotto. 

The place has a large amount of land for Wambus to start a farm with all sorts of sauces. The beach they live next to has a big cave with all sorts of secrets that Triffany is willing to discover.

Reconnecting with their kids has been a challenge, seeing as they left quite abruptly. The kids did eventually start coming around though.

Wambus is a very good cook, lots of people headcanon it and I headcanon it too. The man can make a mean roast. Only reason he never did it on Snaktooth was because the food was already walking around so he had no need to.

Triffany may look like a stick but she’s actually quite strong. On the same levels as Wambus and Chandlo? Maybe not. But she has punted several people before.

She is also very unconventional in her methods, resulting in lots of Scars and broken bones. Wambus had tried bandaging her up before but after failing 15 times he just called Floofty.

Speaking of Floofty, the couple have a very good relationship with the scientist. Floofty often helps Triffany with collecting samples or attempting to help Wambus with growing crops, though those attempts often result in Wambus yelling and Triffany trying to calm her husband down.

FLOOFTY

Floofty now teaches at the towns school, they’re a very talented professor and many of the students they teach have delighted in their work. Though other teachers find the methods very...unconventional.

Though Floofty is still quite cold hearted to most of the grumpus’ they have learned to be more cheerful towards certain Grumps. One of which being Snorpy and the other being their students.

Many students ask how Floofty lost their leg, to which they reply: That information is irrelevant, but if you truly wish to know then speak with the Mayor

When Not teaching they’re usually helping Snorpy out with anything involving the Grumpinati. Though they aren’t really of much help considering their methods

They definitely are considered a cannibal, Floofty was once seen carrying an arm (no one knows if that was theirs) and took a little nibble of it...then spat it out and complained that it was too salt

They are always helping Filbo out in terms of his mayoral duties.

GRAMBLE/WIGGLE

Gramble and Wiggle share a small little two story home in the town. The house is decorated with all sorts of flowers and different patterns on the fence

While Wiggle is always busy touring, playing music, Gramble became the local veterinarian for the town. His experience with the Snax actually prepared him for the animals. 

He also has a small little puppy, ten times better than any of the Snax he had

Gramble still does keep pictures of Sprout around his room, as much as he hated knowing he harbored a parasite in his home, he still missed the little guy. (I am fully convinced the one at the end though was Sprout)

He and Wiggle began dating right after they settled into the house together, believing that it was much needed change for the both of them.

Gramble knits sweaters for Wiggle since she goes out touring so much, he also knits plush versions of the Snax he kept back on Snaktooth. It was the biggest mistake he made, cause now he envisions them staring at him and wanting to murder him

Wiggle always tries to help him when it comes to his nightmares. Playing white noise or ASMR videos so he can go to sleep

Her songs are very well received and she has quite a lot of publicity. Do The Wiggle is still one of her best selling numbers, but she has some love for her other pieces too.

She is always asked to sing at events by Filbo, and of course she never says no. One of her favorite things to do is get one of the kids to come up and sing Do The Wiggle with her since it’s one of the best songs in their opinion

She has a ring box tucked away in her dresser, she’s waiting for the right moment to pull it out on Gramble and propose

CROMDO

Cromdo is doing much better in life, opening up a successful karaoke bar and gets quite a lot of business from some of the guys in town. 

He also showed the less serious side of himself a lot more, and once he let down such a defensive guard he was able to get further in life, albeit he still has a long way to go

He and Beffica still don’t get along, but they’re on better terms than they were back on Snaktooth 

He hasn’t completely dropped his ways though, he’s still a big old Scumbag (and we love him for it). Often he tries to make a profit off something miniscule like an old bottlecap. 

Though Cromdo is still a scumbag, he helped Filbo and Buddy set up Filbo’s campaign to get him elected

Cromdo still tries stealing Triffany’s stuff and Wambus fucking yeets him all the way into town. How he has no broken bones from that is still a mystery to everyone.

BEFFICA

Beffica is now a photographer for the local newspaper, probably not a good choice in many of the Grumps opinions

She is however much better than she was on Snaktooth, and does have a small friend group outside of the Snaktooth Island group

Her old friend group has tried getting in touch with her but she’s very reluctant to talk to them again

Many of the older grumpus’ have basically adopted her because she’s still very shaky after everything, they didn’t expect her to be so shaky but life is surprising.

Her favorite person to go to though is Triffany, for the pure fact that she and Triffany just talk about guys and it’s the best chat ever

She and Filbo are on much better terms, and she may or may not have some feelings hidden for the new Mayor but we will never truly know

She and her ‘Bestie’ go out for Boba tea all the time, a truly fun experience for the both of them

CHANDLO/SNORPY

Chandlo takes Snorpy out on morning runs all the time, he’s proud that his bro is taking baby steps into letting the outside world embrace them

Oh, Snorpy is also He/They now, I honestly feel like it fits them

Snorpy and Chandlo moved to a small little apartment complex for now. The home is very quaint and the two have little designated areas for all the stuff they have.

They also had to make room for Floofty as the sibling insisted on staying with their brother for...reasons

Chandlo goes to library a lot to learn new techniques to help Snorpy, but he also secretly reads up on articles about the Grumpinati in the hopes to help Snorpy destroy them one day

He and Floofty have made a strong pact over the fact that Snorpy must be protected at all costs, no exceptions

Snorpy is a lot more open about what he does now, often asking for advice from Chandlo about his inventions and whatnot.

Neither of them are good cooks, they both try but both almost always burn the complex down so they just ask Floofty to do it

Snorpy actually bruises very easily, he is a literal tomato. So he doesn’t always participate in many physical activities but he does try his best

When Snorpy does bruise, Chandlo goes into full panic mode as he doesn’t know how to tend to wounds. No one ever told him that you can put ice to make it go down quicker

They are married, they have all the paperwork signed and the rings to prove it

SHELDA

She does still go by the name Shelda as people aren’t quite used to calling her Shellsy Woolbag

She actually took up dating when she encountered an old friend of hers, such friend does not have a name because as stated before, Mun is not creative

Shelda has a lot of books and meditation CD’s in her shelves, she also has a Tape Player so when she goes out on walks she can listen to some of the best audiobook readings

She and Floofty get a long a little better, sometimes Floofty will give her insight as to what the world is to THEM and Shelda shares a funny story in return, one that does manage to make Floofty laugh surprisingly.

People don’t often see her get out much, possibly because she’s always busy writing up her experiences and whatnot

She is Buddy’s comfort and the one that they room with currently, she is actually very good company believe it or not

She and Buddy also love writing little stories together as practice for her next book, and they also exchange drawings and doodles they’ve done over the course of the day.

And that’s pretty much it! 

[aesthbaby]

Her Secret

Summary: We’re all aware of Emily’s untold secrets that she took to the grave with her but what about Lauren? The one thing both woman have in common is you, and the memories they took with them in both of their deaths

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x Reader

Prompt/request: None, just an idea I’ve had in my head for a while.

Warnings: Cursing | Death

Wordcount: Almost 4k

Master List

AN: Time line might be a little spotty because the show did not give many details but I promise its still comprehensible.

Its beautiful for a sad event. The white flowers are such a stark contrast to her personality. The color reminds you of a time before, before they knew her and before all of this happened. One of your eyes feels kind of funny so you reach for it, pulling back to examine the small drop of water on your finger. You compose yourself and push the large, black, sunglasses up your nose. Maybe you shouldn’t be here. You were dressed in all black with a black umbrella. Despite it being a sad day, it was unnecessarily sunny.

You spot her team making their way down the walk way. Three men carrying the dark coffin with one Caned man in the front and the women in tow. You take a step back into the shadows as they near the podium. As the service progresses the amount of speeches and tears are--overwhelming. Images of Emily, once known to you as Lauren, flash across your mind as you hold back any and all emotions associated with this event. 

You knew she wasn't really "dead," she couldn’t be. Emily Prentiss is invincible and would never go like that. You saw the woman known as "JJ" glances your way but she says nothing about it. Probably assuming you were another one of Emily's secrets taken to the grave.

Emily’s not dead. Emily wouldn’t die like that. 

You kept repeating it in your head.

Italy - 2004

The violets surround the mansion like a protective field. Their peaceful existence mocking your volunteer imprisonment. You only took this job because you and this other agent were the only ones who spoke fluent Italian. She was supposed to take it and you were the understudy or whatever but then she got knocked up so here you are. Being mocked by fucking flowers. Your thoughts are interrupted by Doyle approaching you with his brunette arm dealer on his arm. You turn away from the balcony upon his approach.

“Lauren deve restare qui mentre scappo. Per favore, tienila d'occhio.” Lauren has to stay here while I run out. Please keep an eye on her.  He’s always been so bossy, and for what? To make himself seem more powerful than he actually is? We’re all aware of the danger working for him provides.

“Si signore.” Yes sir. You turn to acknowledge the woman in front of you but she speaks first.

“Perché? Non posso venire con te?” Why is that? Can't I come with you? She whines.

He gives her a look and she backs down. The Captain heads out with his guards behind him, leaving you alone with his lover.

You’re not sure what to do with her. Is this a form of  babysitting?

She clears her throat. “I know.”

Hearing her speak English was a surprise but it makes sense, there was always something different about her. You arch an eyebrow and reply, “Sai...che cosa?” You know....what?

She holds up a finger for you to give her a moment. She turns around and sticks her head out the door; then closes and locks it. “You’re not really from Tirana, are you?” Who is this woman? You maintain a neutral face while she continues. “The fact that you never eat with us was a dead give away. You’re always held up in this room.” She gestures to the large room filled with files, records, and books. “Like you’re trying to avoid something. I’d also like to point out how you rarely present any Albanian customs.” Where are you going with this Reynolds... “At first I thought, ‘Maybe they’re one of Doyle’s assassins that I’m not supposed to know about.’ But then I started paying attention and realized you’re nothing like that.” You let out a sharp breath. “Its okay.” She takes one of your hands. “I won’t tell Ian. There’s already enough death in his life and I wouldn’t want to see you be one of his next victims.”

You’re stuck in the moment and words are hard to form. All of your training is slipping through your fingers. For all you know she could be bluffing, trying to get you killed. You go with your safest option because you don’t know this woman at all. You pull your hand from her and take a step closer. Peering into her eyes for any sign of fear and when you find none, you proceed. Leaning in as close as possible to her. “Non farei acquisizioni così pericolose se fossi in te.” I wouldn't make such dangerous acquisitions if I were you. You whisper. You could never be sure if your suspicions were correct but this, this was all the confirmation you needed. What’s that old saying? Takes one to know one. “Agente.” Finishing off that last word you brush past her.

Virginia - present

 Being back in The States with Doyle still running around is unnecessarily risking. Emily’s defeat is the only reason you’ve come back. To watch her team grieve over the coffin is saddening but having to hide is the shadows is unfair. Am I not allowed to publicly grieve? Are my tears not worthy? The grip on your umbrella tightens. She’s not dead. Emily doesn’t loose. Emotions are running high and the speeches are getting long. Last time you talked, she claimed to be alone. No family and no fiends but clearly she was wrong. What you’d give to be laying under a plum tree on a wool woven blanket with her head in your lap. Eating pastries you raided from the kitchen and telling the Captain that you needed her to help analyze costs. What a fool.

You were so entranced with the memory that you didn’t notice when the pale, dark haired agent approached you. Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief if I’m not mistaken. “Agent.” He acknowledges.

“Sir?” You mumble.

“Your profession was easy enough to guess, though I’m not sure of your name.” Those knitted brown sweaters and golden, dainty necklaces. The short chestnut hair with soft curls that smelled of honey shampoo. The way she’d nudge your foot during dinner while casting discreet glances. Its all gone. “Agent?” He calls again. “Are you alright?”

Before you say anything you make sure your voice is clear. “Tell me Agent Hotchner, did she suffer?” That question didn’t need to be answered but you just had to know. A favor was called in on your behalf by Lieutenant Parks, he gave very few details about her death but you’ll take that over nothing at all. This was the one question you didn’t have an answer for. With nothing but silence from the man, you have your answer.

Reaching for your pocket there’s a small clear box; inside of the plastic is a handful of pressed violets. Without looking you hold the slim box out to him. “Please, make sure she gets them.” After he takes them you make one last note of the sight in front of you. All of her friends, family, and coworkers gathered in one place with Emily’s grave as the centerpiece. You turn to finally face the man, tilting your shades so he can see a bit of your eyes. “Dead or alive.” And then disappearing in to the back of the cemetary.

Italy - Spring of 04′

Two months ago you were staring off of Doyle’s Spanish-styled balcony thinking, “What would happen if I called it quits?” You had enough evidence and entail for him to never see freedom again. So what was stopping you?

Her. She was making you second guess.

After having her call you out for being a spy, you were very careful about what you did and said around her. Its not like she had any definitive proof but at the same time neither did you. What you said that day was a total bluff. Its a miracle you’re still alive. You were left with only two conclusions: one was that she herself is a spy, or two, she’s one of the smartest people Ian has ever brought home.

Then came a day where the boys went out to wherever and it was just you, her, and the maids. Most of them are Russian and speak poor Italian so they usually keep to themselves. You’re at the dining room table pretending to run numbers since that’s literally your job- well that and vetting backgrounds of sellers and buyers. Essentially a secretary with dangerous patrons. The position is mind numbingly boring but it does allow you to remain invisible while observing the operation. Think about it, who’s going to notice the secretary while discussing millions? They’re idiots. They allow you to sit in on every single meeting because you’re just the person who runs numbers. A debatable perk to this job is the amount of free time you posses. Usually its spent digging around the operation, sending information back to HQ, or actually enjoying small aspects of the city. That brings you to right now where you’re doodling random shapes on the bottom corner of the paper.

Lauren is on the couch wearing a button up satin dress, quite short for Ian’s taste so you’re surprised to see her wearing it. She’s read something you’ve never heard of, not that it matters. With no idea why she’s in here with you, you retreat back into your own mind.

“The maids have left.” You suddenly hear beside you, nearly jumping out of your skin.

“You scared me!” At the realization of your chosen language you gasp and watch as Lauren smiles widely. You shoot to your feet repeating no over and over. Actively trying to take back your words while she looks rather amused.

“I knew it!” She points at you all accusingly and shit. You keep shaking your head no and trying to get her to be quiet. “I was right about you!” And here’s the perfect time to have a maid to walk in. Lauren says something to her but you’re too wrapped up in your head to translate. All your years of training, expierence, undercover work has just been thrown away over your stupid mistake.

They’re going to kill me. They’re going to have my head on a stake in the middle of the garden for the world to see- or worse! I’ll be tortured for my crimes by one of Doyle’s men.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the brunette waving her hand in front of your face. “Don’t worry,” She say softly as you notice the house keeper is no longer with you. “I told her they could take a break...” At your confused face she continues. “So now we can talk.”

Virginia - present

To say you had no idea where you were going, was an understatement.

You hadn’t been to Virginia in years so everything felt unfamiliar. You took quick peaks at your surroundings as the rented porshe pushed through the traffic. Everything hurt, not the traditional pain you experience over a broken toe but the emotional kind that coursed through your entire body.

Is this what a broken heart feels like?

You kept telling yourself she wasn’t dead; couldn’t be. Not your Emily, the woman you know is a fighter. She’s fucking invincible and would never let herself die at the hand of that monster. If she was really dead, wouldn’t you feel it? Wouldn’t you feel your connection to her sever?

At the reorganization of the build ahead of you, you pull the car into the left lane.

Italy - Spring of 04′

She is so fucking clingy. Always starring at me when no one is watching and going on less missions with Doyle. Speaking of him, the man likes to take her everywhere; calls her “Ho il mio portafortuna” his good luck charm. She usual goes out with him whenever he’s traveling but lately she’s been making little excuses on why she wants to stay for the day. Instead of spending the day recuperating from a headache (like she’s told him) she’ll bother you.

That accent and the way she pronounces her R’s makes you wanna melt, but then she starts asking you a million and one questions. What’s your favorite food? When’s your birthday? Have you ever broken a bone? Do you enjoy reading? Its always something with her. I think she’s trying to annoy me. So far you’ve been answering her questions in Italian to insure that you don’t fuck up again.

Doyle is none the wiser, he still sees you as a secretary and her as arm candy.

But you must admit that Lauren is growing on you. She hasn’t said anything in English to you lately or exposed you to Doyle. You’re rarely ever alone but when you are, she gives you one of her finished books and sits in the room quietly. Its comforting. Today she’s given you Niccolo Ammaniti with a note scribbled in pencil on the 5th page, “Hang in there.” Smart woman, writing it in light pencil so I can easily erase it without leaving a trace...also paranoid woman but rightfully so.

Virginia - present

You adjust your shoe so as not to slip before going into the building and suck the shades into your pocket. The giant letters, I. O. D. S. stare back at you in Ariel font.

Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this. Just accept her death and move on.

Inside of Investigations of Death Services you nod to the secretary, an ex of yours, and continue on to your destination. While in the elevatored your vision feels blurry but now isn’t the time for tears. Arriving at your floor, you spot his office and walk in without so much as a knock or invitation.

“One second,” he speaks into the phone. “Can I help you?” His dark eyes look angry, like he doesn’t recognize you. You take a step forward, offering your closed palm to him. “What? What is this? A fucking magic trick?” You slowly open your palm towards him, revealing the silver clover pin. The suited man looks like he’s just seen a ghost. “Shane, I’ll have to call you back.” He hangs up the phone, then reaches from you hand. “Where did you get this?”

Snatching you hand back and putting the silver back in your pocket. “You really don’t remember me, do you?”

He narrows his eyes on you before answering. “Can’t say I do.”

“Back in 03′ you knocked up Carin and proposed I go on assignment. Granted I was the only person who was fluent in Italian--or so I thought. Come to find out there were five other agents who could’ve been assigned there. You chose me because I was up for your job.” Your anger is boiling over quickly. “You were a shitty employee and they were ready to fire you.” You take a daring step forward. “Until you proposed infiltrating Valhalla with one of the foreign operative agents. You told them there were only two fluent agents. Back then we had never met but I knew who you were, Hell, we all knew how much of a screw up you were. Guess you don’t recognize me anymore? I mean in your defense its been years and I’ve lost a few pounds due to the stress you caused me but that’s for another day. How about we go back to 2003.” For a man with toxic masculinity issues, he looks pretty scared. “You couldn’t just out right suggest me so you have to offer up someone else. Coincidently Carin got pregnant right around the time she was starting her training, by you I might add, and could no longer go.” A wide smile starts to grow on your face. “Bet you were counting on my death, huh?” Awe poor baby seems to be shaking. “No...you’re too much of a pussy for that. I bet you were hoping I’d go to Italy and screw things up for the whole operation.” Now you’re toe-to-toe with him. “Mess up so bad that they’d have pull me out and demote me. Or! Reveal myself and hope Doyle’s men killed me or I’d go sprinting home with my tail between my legs.” His silence is starting to irritate you. “So which is it, Mark? Hmm? Cat got your tongue?”

“I’m sorry!” He yells with a reddened face. Out of the corner of your eye you see his co-works looking through his glass walls but you couldn’t care less. “I’m sorry, y/n. What do you want from me? I’ll do anything!” Now we’re getting somewhere.

You push the pin into his face “Where is she, Mark?”

“Where is who?” He’s still fucking shaking.

“Asking me another stupid question and there will be hell to pay.” You’re not really going to hurt him but considering the circumstances, this is justified. The man put your life on the line over some stupid position, a bit of threatening wouldn’t hurt.

“Okay okay. All I know is that after you left she was taken by ALPHA and later faked her death. When Lauren Reynolds died, Emily Prentiss got to go home and Ian Doyle went to a North Korean prison.”

“And now...”

“Last I heard she was working for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI but was recently killed under suspicious circumstances.” At your expression, he continues. “We know she died during a scuffle with Doyle and there was a funeral but we are yet to have a death certificate on record. Sometimes it take anywhere from a week to a month for us to receive proper records on agent deaths. I thought that-”

“Stop, talking.” You cut him off through gritted teath.

Italy - Autumn 04′

“What is your problem, Lauren?” You’re out on the patio in front of the pool on a warm day. Lauren has a four course meal on the table, courtesy of the chefs.

“Nothing...” She shrugs with a mouthful of strawberry.

“You want me to leave.”

Another fucking shrug.  

“Be serious.” You’re trying to stop yourself from stomping your foot.

She puts down her food and clasps her hands together. “Yes I want you to leave.” You watch as she gets up and smooths her skirt; taking your hands in hers. “Your time is thinning and you’ve been her a lot longer than me.”

“And leave you here alone? No way, I know you’re invincible but even Superman had his down fall.”

“Superman?” She loops you in closer. “Why not superwoman? Awfully sexist of you.”

“Oh, shut up.” You nudge her back a bit. “But wouldn’t you miss me?”

She gives you one of her wide smiles. “Let me show how much I’d miss you.” She leans in for a light kiss against your lips.  You pull away quickly so as not to be seen. El, like the letter, picked out a blind spot that’s covered partially in shadows. “I have to leave in 15 minutes but until then...” She trails with a very telling expression.

“Where?” You laugh. “Not in the second floor bathroom again because that was...tight.”

Her perfectly plucked eyebrow arches upward,  “And you were loud!”

You hop past her to sneak a grape. “Hey! You do know that was mine, right?”

“What are you going to do about it, Superwoman?” You turn to grab another grape, while doing so you feel her presence behind you. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, L.”

“Oh why not?” She lightly trails down your backside. “It’ll be so much fun.”

You turn back to her. “Ten minutes?”

“In the library?” She smirks and you nod along.

Virginia - present

This four hundred dollar airplane ticket is going to serve its purpose but paying it back is going to suck. Your government salary was nice and all but $400 is still a lot.

Just two days before, you rushed around you place to pack all of the essentials for a quick flight to Paris; charger, hygiene, two outfits, and the pin all tucked into a stylish backpack.

That brings us here, standing in the streets of downtown Paris alongside the buzzing mopeds weaving through the streets. In front of you is the little café Elle would go on and on about, naturally this is the first place you could think to look.

You didn’t even know what you were looking for. The woman you fell for was a brunette with light curls and bangs.

You were looking for Emily. The woman Lauren introduced you to. The woman you grew to love in the same way you love Lauren, but Lauren is dead. Has been for awhile, now its time to find Emily. Your Emily.

You find nothing, no one who even slightly revels Emily on your first day there. So you find a hostel to lay your head in and continue on the next day. Again and again with the same routine for five days straight.

You wasted all of your time here for what? A memory? A dream? Two woman who no longer exist on the same astral plane as you?

That’s when you see it, a head of dark brown hair a few tables ahead of where you’re standing. With all hope lost you almost think its a mirage. 

You sit a few tables ahead of her, careful to keep your face hidden. When the waiter comes around to take your order you give him very specific instructions.

Emily’s POV

Being a dead woman is lonely and isolating...at least the coffee is good. The waiter who dropped off the hot beverage not too long ago has circled back with a cheese croissant in hand. That’s odd, I hate cheese croissants. “Cette personne là-bas m'a demandé de te livrer ça.” That person over there has asked me to deliver this to you. He points over his shoulder to a person who’s face I can’t quite make out. “Ils m'ont également demandé de vous donner ceci.” They also asked me to give this to you. He reaches from his front pocket and softly places a silver clover pin that I haven’t seen in years, and a pressed Violet. I can feel the air drain out of my lungs at the objects in front of me. “Merci beaucoup.” The only person who knows what these objects mean are Doyle and-

At the sense of being watched my head shoots up at the source. At first there’s nothing there but then I spot the familiar figure. Its been weeks since I’ve actually seen them, it can’t be. I must be seeing things. Closing my eyes and taking in a deep breathe, I open them to see that they’re gone.

“Boo.” I hear in my right ear; looking up to see y/n standing beside me with a bright smile.

“You scared me!” Realizing how loud I am, I take a breath.

“Miss me Elle?” I left you behind, twice. I died twice without letting you know. You’ve had to start over too many times and its not far.

“Y/n, how did you find me?”

“Really, Elle. Did you really think I’d fall for that party trick you pulled at the BAU? I’m not dull, and besides,” Y/n/n gently puts their hand over mine on the coffee mug. “You’re my Superwoman, you’ll never die.”

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟ･*:.

@beyondprincess @confused-and-really-hungry @millipop18 @supercorp8388 @groovygoob  @emilyprentisswife@covetedcoven @justaghostmonument @rabid-wild-misfits @nomit16 @afuckingshituniverse @mys2425  @fanfictionfangirl04  @aaron-hotchner187 @lisztomaniacalice @thestrawberrygirl  @miidguardian-exe @criminalmindsmoodrn @ssacandice-ray @davidrossiismydad @garcias-batcave @ssaemxlyprentxss @andreaxxg13 @emilyprentissistoocute @mortallythoughtfulgurl @iamyouknow-yours @aesthbaby​

[piet-ra]

Taylor Swift x Catradora Masterlist

So, this is a masterlist no one asked for but I'm doing anyway. It's basically every Taylor Swift song that think fits the dynamic perfectly or that I'm completely projecting a Catradora storyline into (it's canon universe, no AU). I’m basically SPOPfying TS’s discography. It can be just one line or the whole song. I will highlight the lyrics and it is sorted by album. I hope you enjoy it and if it helps my fanfic writers out there, all the best. (just an fyi, I’m listening to all of this through a very romantic filter, before anyone comes at me saying that “actually catra wanted more than Adora and their issues were deeper than just unrequited love and bla bla. I know. just let us enjoy this gay animated couple)

I might develop my reasoning more in some than in others, so if you want to know more about why I chose such song and all that, just send me asks, I love them! 

Let’s get on with the list now!

From “Taylor Swift”(Yee haw taylor at her finest)

Picture to burn

okay, so bear with me. Catra’s pov after Adora left her.

“there’s no time for tears/I’m just sitting here plotting my revenge”

“And if you’re missing me you’d better keep it to yourself/ cause coming back around here would be bad for your health”

“so watch me strike a match on all my wasted time/ as far as i’m concerned you’re just another picture to burn” -> I can just imagine catra scratching their doodles when i listen to this through a catradora lens.

Teardrops on my guitar

Teenage Catra’s pov pining over Adora.

“Drew looks at me/I fake a smile so he won’t see/That I want and I’m needing/ everything that we should be”

 “I laugh 'cause it is just so funny/ That I can't even see anyone when he's with me”

“[he’s] the only one who’s got enough of me to break my heart”

A Place in this World

Adora trying to deal with the new responsibilities and pressure She-ra brought her.

“I don’t know what I want/ so don’t ask me/ ‘cause I’m still trying to figure it out/ don’t know what’s down this road/ I'm just walking/Trying to see through the rain coming down”

“I’m alone, on my own/ and that’s all I know/ I’ll be strong, I’ll be wrong/ oh but life goes on/ oh I’m just a girl/ trying to find a place in this world”

The outside

Catra’s pov(on her way to redemption)

“So, how can I ever try to be better?/ Nobody ever lets me in/ And I can still see you, this ain’t the best view/ On the outside looking in”

“You saw me there, but never knew/ That I would give it all up to be/ A part of this, a part of you/ And now it's all too late, so you see/ You could have helped if you had wanted to/ But no one notices until it's too late to do anything/ How could I ever try to be better?”

Tied Together With a Smile

Catra to Adora and her self sacrificial complex.

“hold on, baby, you’re losing it/ the water’s high/ you’re jumping into it/ And letting go and no one knows/ That you cry but you don’t tell anyone/ That you might not be the golden one/ and you’re tied together with a smile/ but you’re coming undone

Should’ve said no

Catra to Adora(season 1)

“you should’ve said no, you should’ve gone home/ you should’ve thought twice ‘fore you let it all go/You should've known that word like what you did with her/ Would get back to me/ and I should’ve been there, in the back of your mind/ I shouldn’t be asking myself why/You shouldn't be beggin' for forgiveness at my feet/ you should’ve said no, baby, and you might still have me”

“I can’t resist, before you go, tell me this/ was it worth it?”

I’m only me when I’m with you

just general catradora because this is effing cute

“I'm only up when you're not down/Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground/ It's like no matter what I do/ Well you drive me crazy half the time/ The other half I'm only tryna let you know that what I feel is true/ And I'm only me when I'm with you”

A Perfectly good heart

Catra’s pov(season 1)

“Why would you wanna take our love and tear it all apart now/ Why would you wanna make the very first scar/ Why would you wanna break a perfectly good heart”

“Maybe I should've seen the signs/ Should've read the writing on the wall/ And realized by the distance in your eyes that I would be the one to fall/ No matter what you say, I still can't believe/ That you would walk away/ It don't make sense to me”

From “Fearless”(platinum edition)

Forever and always

ohhh the promises.... catra’s pov.

“And then you feel so low you can't feel nothing at all/ And you flashback to when we said forever and always/ And it rains in your bedroom/ Everything is wrong/ It rains when you're here and it rains when you're gone/ 'Cause I was there when you said forever and always/ You didn't mean it baby”

Come in with the rain

this one i think it fits both Adora and Catra singing the same thing to each other(while they were still stranged) and if you want the whole reasoning behind, ask haha cause otherwise this is going to be even bigger. 

“I've watched you so long, screamed your name/ I don't know what else I can say/ But I'll leave my window open/ 'Cause I'm too tired at night for all these games/ Just know I'm right here hoping/ That you'll come in with the rain/ I could go back to every laugh/ But I don't wanna go there anymore”

The other side of the door

this is pure catra. just pure catra. seasons 1- 4 Catra and what she did vs her real feelings. (very fitting for ”promises” too)

“In the heat of the fight I walked away/ Ignoring words that you were saying/ Trying to make me stay/ I said, "This time I've had enough"/ And you've called a hundred times/ But I'm not picking up/ 'Cause I'm so mad I might tell you that it's over/ But if you look a little closer/ I said, "Leave," but all I really want is you/ To stand outside my window throwing pebbles/ Screaming, "I'm in love with you"”

“Me and my stupid pride are sitting here alone/ Going through the photographs, staring at the phone”

“So babe if you know everything/ Tell me why you couldn't see/ When I left, I wanted you to chase after me”

“And I'll scream out the window/ I can't even look at you/ I don't need you but I do, I do, I do/ I say, "There's nothing you can say/ To make this right again, I mean it, I mean it”/ What I mean is/ I said, "Leave," but baby, all I want is you”

White Horse

okay, that’s just a joke. but I wanted to share the mental image my brain created. I just can’t stop imagining Catra on princess prom, looking longingly at Adora dancing with some nameless girl and singing “I’m not a princess, this ain’t a fairytale/ I’m not the one you’ll sweep off her feet/ lead her up the stairwell” and then catching a glimpse of swifty “Now it’s too late for you and your white horse to come around”

i’m so sorry for this, but I’m actually not.

oh and the more serious interpretation is Catra refusing Adora and her fucking hero complex, saying it’s too late for her to try to go and fix things.

You belong with me

Just to mention this song fits every childhood friends to lovers ever. so that’s it.

Tell me why

Adora’s pov(season 3-4). I feel this is Adora getting more and more frustrated with Catra and especially after she “gave up” on catra after the portal.  and this connection made me sad.(and I’m not by any means calling Catra abusive with this, because I know how the song depicts a somewhat abusive relatioship and I’m not by saying Catradora is that(it isn’t, at all), but their relationship throughout the seasons is fucking messy.)

“I took a chance, I took a shot/ And you might think I'm bulletproof, but I'm not/ You took a swing, I took it hard/ And down here from the ground I see who you are/ I'm sick and tired of your attitude/ I'm feeling like I don't know you”

“And I need you like a heartbeat/ But you know you got a mean streak.”

“And I know you see what you’re doing to me/ Tell me why”

and the one that hurts:

“I take a step back, let you go/ I told you I’m not bulletproof/ Now you know”

You’re Not Sorry

Adora’s pov, post portal

“All this time I was wasting hoping you would come around/ I've been giving out chances every time and all you do is let me down/ And it's taken me this long, baby, but I've figured you out/ And you're thinking we'll be fine again, but not this time around”

“You don't have to call anymore/ I won't pick up the phone/ This is the last straw/ Don't wanna hurt anymore/ And you can tell me that you're sorry/ But I don't believe you baby like I did before/ You're not sorry”

Change

so everything here might be a lot of a stretch, but I can’t really control what my head comes up with. The song progresses and so does Catradora’s story in this. like, I feel the song starts when they are kids in the Horde and then teenagers promising each other they will rise in the ranks and rule the place and then after defeating Horde Prime and getting their new beginning.(And maybe both of them singing, but I feel Adora would fit better, dunno)

“And it's a sad picture, the final blow hits you/Somebody else gets what you wanted again and/ You know it's all the same, another time and place/ Repeating history and you're getting sick of it/ But I believe in whatever you do/ And I'll do anything to see it through/ Because these things will change/ Can you feel it now?” -> Adora singing to catra imo, but you see it however you want to honestly.

“These walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down/ This revolution, the time will come/ For us to finally win/ And we'll sing hallelujah, we'll sing hallelujah” -> Here it’s the promise they made when they were younger, that they would be running the place together and even the “nothing rly bad can happen as long as we have each other” one.

“So we've been outnumbered, raided, and now cornered/ It's hard to fight when the fight ain’t fair/ We're getting stronger now, finding things they never found/ They might be bigger but we're faster and never scared” -> maybe their teenage years strengthening their resolution. 

“Tonight we stand, get off our knees/ Fight for what we've worked for all these years/ And the battle was long, it's the fight of our lives/ But we'll stand up champions tonight/ It was the night things changed/ Can you see it now?” -> this could be so so so many things, but I chose to see as a time skip and it is the night they defeated horde prime just to make it interesting. (this whole thing was such a stretch, but I’m having fun with it, so fuck it i guess)

From “Speak Now”

 Sparks Fly

Adora’s pov

“The way you move is like a full on rainstorm/ And I'm a house of cards/ You're the kind of reckless/ That should send me running/ But I kinda know that I won't get far”

“Take away the pain/ 'Cause I see, sparks fly, whenever you smile/ Get me with those green eyes, baby/ As the lights go down/ Gimme something that'll haunt me whenever you're not around/ 'Cause I see, sparks fly, when you smile”

“My mind forgets to remind me, your a bad idea”

Back to December

Catra’s pov(call from Horde Prime’s ship and interactions on Darla)

“Your guard is up and I know why/ Because the last time you saw me/ Is still burned in the back of your mind”

“So this is me swallowing my pride/ Standing in front of you, saying I'm sorry for that night”

“It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you”

“These days, I haven't been sleeping/ Staying up, playing back myself leaving”

“I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't/ So if the chain is on your door, I understand”

Mean

That’s just Catra singing to Shadow Weaver, I’m sorry. the whole song fits here, so just my top picks.

“You, with your words like knives/ And swords and weapons that you use against me/ You have knocked me off my feet again/ Got me feeling like I'm nothing/ You, with your voice like nails on a chalkboard/ Calling me out when I'm wounded/ You, picking on the weaker man”

“You, with your switching sides/ And your wildfire lies and your humiliation/ You have pointed out my flaws again/ As if I don't already see them”

“All you are is mean/ And a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life/ And mean, and mean, and mean, and mean”

The story of us

both Adora and Catras(basically the whole song lol)

“I used to think one day we'd tell the story of us/ How we met, and the sparks flew instantly”

“I used to know my place was a spot next to you/ Now I'm searching the room for an empty seat/ 'Cause lately, I don't even know what page you're on”

“Oh, a simple complication/ Miscommunications lead to fallout/ So many things that I wish you knew/ So many walls up, I can't break through”

“Now I'm standing alone in a crowded room/ And we're not speaking/ And I'm dying to know/ Is it killing you like it's killing me?/ Yeah, I don't know what to say/ Since the twist of fate when it all broke down/ And the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now”

“How I was losing my mind when I saw you here/ But you held your pride like you should've held me”

“Why are we pretending this is nothing?/ I'd tell you I miss you, but I don't know how/ I've never heard silence quite this loud”

“This is looking like a contest/ Of who can act like they care less/ But I liked it better when you were on my side”

“But I would lay my armor down/ If you say you'd rather love than fight”

(let’s ignore that the song actually ends in tragedy lol)

Haunted

Why did you leave, Adora, for fuck’s sake. Catra’s pov.

“Come on, come on, don't leave me like this/ I thought I had you figured out/ Something's gone terribly wrong/ You're all I wanted/ Come on, come on, don't leave me like this/ I thought I had you figured out/ Can't breathe whenever you're gone/ Can't turn back now, I'm haunted”

“Stood there and watched you walk away/ From everything we had”

oh and a sad bonus. Catra’s pov from when she was Chipped:

“He will try to take away my pain/ And he just might make me smile/ But the whole time, I'm wishing it was you instead/ Oh, holding my breath/ Won't see you again/ Something keeps me holding onto nothing”

Last Kiss

I’m realizing with this list that Taylor is a Catra Kinnie(and she condones murder now, so great!). Catra’s pov.

“I still remember the look on your face/ Lit through the darkness at 1:58/ The words that you whispered/ For just us to know/ You told me you loved me/ So why did you go away?/ Away”

“All that I know is I don't know/ How to be something you miss/ I never thought we'd have a last kiss/ Never imagined we'd end like this”

Long Live

The very fortunate aftermath of the Heart of Etheria and the defeat of Horde Prime. anyone can be the narrator in this, but for me is Catra and Adora, together(but some Catra solos)(I’m such an Adora kinnie, but fuck if this isn’t dominated by my fav catgirl)

“I said: Remember this moment/ In the back of my mind/ The time we stood with our shaking hands/.../ The night you danced like you knew our lives/ Would never be the same/ You held your head like a hero/ On a history book page/ It was the end of a decade/ But the start of an age”

“Long live the walls we crashed through/ All the kingdom lights shined just for me and you/ I was screaming, long live all the magic we made/ And bring on all the pretenders/ One day, we will be remembered”

“And the cynics were outraged/ Screaming, "This is absurd"/ 'Cause for a moment, a band of thieves/ In ripped up jeans got to rule the world” (fourth wall breaking, catra is actually singing this to her haters)

“I'm not afraid/ Long live all the mountains we moved/ I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you/ I was screaming, long live that look on your face”

“Will you take a moment?/ Promise me this/ That you'll stand by me forever”

Ours

just a cute song, go listen to it and insert literally anyone in it.

From “Red”

Treacherous

i feel like it fits the vibe of the dynamic, but I don’t feel like expanding on it lol

All Too Well(because ofc)

I honestly don’t know who narrates this one. either Catra or Adora fit well, but I’m more inclined to say Adora but idk why. it’s just the vibe I’m getting.

“And I know it's long gone and/ There was nothing else I could do/ And I forget about you long enough/ To forget why I needed to” -> in this one i was like, Adora for sure

“Maybe we got lost in translation/ Maybe I asked for too much/ But maybe this thing was a masterpiece/ 'Til you tore it all up/ Running scared, I was there, I remember it all too well” -> But then this one came and I was like, well, depending on the pov, it fits both.

“And you call me up again just to break me like a promise/ So casually cruel in the name of being honest”(best lyrics c’mon) -> and the whole break me like a promise thingy made me think Catra’s pov, but then I guess you could also put it in Adora’s pov if you wanted to, so up to y’all.

I Almost Do

C’mon, Catra once again.

“And I just want to tell you/ It takes everything in me not to call you/ And I wish I could run to you/ And I hope you know that/ Every time I don’t/ I almost do, I almost do”

“I bet you think I either moved on or hate you/ ‘Cause each time you reach out, there’s no reply/ I bet it never, ever occurred to you/ That I can’t say hello to you/ And risk another goodbye”(kill me now, there’s still a lot of heartbreak for me to go through)

The Last Time

Catra’s pov, before she leaves Adora and has the little breakdown with Melog.

“This is the last time I'm asking you this/ Put my name at the top of your list/ This is the last time I'm asking you why/ You break my heart in the blink of an eye”

“Just like all those times before/ You wear your best apology/ But I was there to watch you leave/ And all the times I let you in/ Just for you to go again”

Everything has changed

baby Catra and baby Adora meeting and immediately clicking.(Tay is Adora and Ed is Catra for me, but as always, you do you.)

“I just wanna know you better/ Know you better, know you better now”

“'Cause all I know is we said, "Hello"/ And your eyes look like coming home/ All I know is a simple name/ Everything has changed/ All I know is you held the door/ You'll be mine and I'll be yours/ All I know since yesterday/ Is everything has changed”

“ And all my walls stood tall, painted blue/ And I'll take 'em down, take 'em down/ And open up the door for you”

Come back… be here

it talks about leaving and all, and the obvious choice is Catra, but Imma put it down as an Adora pov.  for as much as I talk about Adora leaving Catra, Catra also left Adora. justified or not, their reasons, their motives or wtv is not what i’m here to talk about. I’m just stating that Adora asked catra to stay many times and catra didn’t. So the feelings of abandonment also fit Adora very well depending on the way it is weaved. Some are rly just plain Catra, tho. back to the song.

“And this is when the feeling sinks in/ I don't wanna miss you like this/ Come back, be here, come back, be here”

“And now that I can put this down/ If I had known what I know now/ I never would've played so nonchalant”

“This is falling in love in the cruelest way/ This is falling for you when you are worlds away”

“But you're in London, and I break down/ 'Cause it's not fair that you're not around”

From “1989”

Style

general catradora

“And when we go crashing down, we come back every time/ 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style”

Out of the woods

general catradora

“We were built to fall apart/ Then fall back together”

All you had to do was stay 

Catra’s pov. the line “picking up the pieces of the mess you made” just hits me where it stings, because I remember Catra trying to cover for Adora and then Adora not coming back and then having to deal with the wrath of Shadow weaver alone.

“Now, you say you want it back/ Now that it's just too late/ Well, could've been easy/ All you had to do was (Stay!)”

“Here you are now, calling me up/ But I don't know what to say/ I've been picking up the pieces/ Of the mess you made”

“Let me remind you/ This was what you wanted/ You ended it/ You were all I wanted “

I wish you would

Catra’s pov.

“Windows down, you pass my street, the memories start/ You say it's in the past, you drive straight ahead/ You're thinking that I hate you now/ 'Cause you still don't know what I never said/ I wish you would come back/ Wish I never hung up the phone like I did, I/ Wish you knew that/ I'd never forget you as long as I live, and I/ Wish you were right here, right now,/.../ I wish you would”

“We're a crooked love in a straight line down/ Makes you want to run and hide/ But it makes you turn right back around”

“You always knew how to push my buttons/ You give me everything and nothing”

Bad Blood(original version, not the remix)

Originally I thought, “oh this is Adora” but then I decided it was both of them together.

“’Cause baby, now we've got bad blood/ You know it used to be mad love/ So take a look what you've done/ ’Cause baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!/ Now we've got problems/ And I don't think we can solve 'em/ You made a really deep cut/ And baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!”

“Did you have to do this?/ I was thinking that you could be trusted/ Did you have to ruin what was shiny?/ Now it's all rusted/ Did you have to hit me where I'm weak?/ Baby, I couldn't breathe/ And rub it in so deep/ Salt in the wound like you're laughing right at me”

“Did you think we'd be fine?/ Still got scars in my back from your knives”(i really thought Adora here just cause of the literal scars in her back)

Wildest Dreams

if you want to headcanon a pre she-ra Catradora relationship, this song is really good. Since I’m trying( and def failing in many instances) to be as canon compliant as I can, I’ll skip it.

This Love

Catradora in the heart of etheria. could be both povs: either Catra holding Adora’s dying body and like “this love came back to me” or Adora prepared to die, dreaming about Catra, letting her love go, but in the end came back to her. for me, this is Adora’s, the whole song feels like her to me

“Currents swept you out again/ And you were just gone and gone, gone and gone” -> she’s fading, she’s being fully consumed now and the currents swept catra out from her. 

“In silent screams and wildest dreams/ I never dreamed of this” -> she never allowed herself to dream that Catra would love her or that she wanted a future with Catra, but now she’s being faced with the loss of exactly that.

“This love is good, this love is bad/ This love is alive back from the dead/ These hands had to let it go free, and/ This love came back to me” -> their love is a very complicated thing, is not easy. they have a history of being enemies that tarnish it a bit and when it was too bad, they had to let it go. but the love came back to them in full force. alive back from the dead, literally and figuratively.

“Lantern, burning/ Flickered in my mind, only you/ But you were still gone, gone, gone”

“Been losing grip, on sinking ships/ You showed up just in time” -> adora dying, being saved in the most dramatic way possible.

“This love left a permanent mark/ This love is glowing in the dark” -> just the imagery, wow. and the antithesis of the mark of  scars left by love and now the mark of it is the glowing.

“Your kiss, my cheek/ I watched you leave/ Your smile, my ghost/ I fell to my knees/ When you're young, you just run/ But you come back to what you need” -> finally reunited yay

I know places

Catradora in the Horde being super cute and hiding everywhere, just because.

“Something happens when everybody finds out/ See the vultures circling, dark clouds/ Love's a fragile little flame, it could burn out/ It could burn out”

“'Cause they got the cages, they got the boxes and guns/ They are the hunters, we are the foxes and we run”

“Baby, I know places we won't be found/ And they'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down/ 'Cause I, I know places we can hide/ They are the hunters, we are the foxes, and we run”

“Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it, my love”

From “Reputation” (Not expecting much from this one)

 Delicate

Catradora being all cute and insecure after the end of the war and learning how to navigate their relationship, the old and the new. Catra’s pov, probably.

“This ain't for the best/ My reputation's never been worse, so/ You must like me for me/ We can't make/ Any promises now, can we, babe?/ Is it cool that I said all that?/ Is it chill that you're in my head?/ 'Cause I know that it's delicate (Delicate)/ Is it cool that I said all that?/ Is it too soon to do this yet?”

Gorgeous

so, i think this song is extremely cute and would fit very well in many various au’s, even some of mine, so I’m just leaving it out here, check it out if you haven’t, but won’t expand on it. 

Dress(I was pleasantly surprised bout this one)

Catra’s pov.

“All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation/ My hands are shaking from holding back from you/ All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting/ My hands are shaking from all this”

“Say my name and everything just stops/ I don't want you like a best friend/ Only bought this dress so you could take it off/ Take it/ Carve your name into my bedpost/ ’Cause I don't want you like a best friend/ Only bought this dress so you could take it off/ Even in my worst times, you could see the best in me/ Flashback to my mistakes/ My rebounds, my earthquakes/ Even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me/ And I woke up just in time/ Now I wake up by your side”

 New Year’s Day

Another super sweet song that doesn’t exactly fit in the canon compliant list, but that I definitely use in my future Catradora headcanon, so I’ll just put in a few lyrics. 

“There's glitter on the floor after the party/.../You and me from the night before, but/ Don’t read the last page/ But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you’re turning away/ I want your midnights/ But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day”

“But I stay when it’s hard or it’s wrong or we're making mistakes”

“You and me forevermore”

From “Lover”(this album is so sweet fuuuuck)

 Lover

the whole song. just, future catradora. Adora’s pov tho because this is such a dorkish in love song and that bit about “You’ll save all of your dirtiest jokes for me”, Adora saying this to Catra. that’s it

 Paper Rings

future again. this whole album might be just me fantasizing about their future, who knows.

“Cat and mouse for a month or two or three/ Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe/ Darling, you're the one I want, and/ I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this/ Uh huh, that's right/ Darling, you're the one I want/ In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams/ Oh, you're the one I want”

 Death By A Thousand Cuts

I forgot this song and I’m adding it now at the last minute. extremely tired. not gonna paste the song here. but go listen, it’s really fitting for catradora.

“saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts”

Afterglow

this is one I didn’t want to put in here, just because of a few lines specifically, but it made me think of Catra’s apology, so here it goes. (the parts “it’s all in my head” and “It’s all me” that bug me so, but we’ll pretend they don’t exist)

“I pinned your hands behind your back, oh/ Thought I had reason to attack, but no”

“Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves/ Chemistry 'til it blows up, 'til there’s no us/ Why'd I have to break what I love so much?/ Sorry that I hurt you/ I don't wanna do, I don’t wanna do this to you “

From “Folklore”

OKay, so now that we got here, we’re gonna get a bit creative and take everything with a grain of salt(more than we’ve already been doing) cause I doubt we’re gonna manage to be canon compliant in every one(this includes evermore too, I’m about to go off in these two albums), but everything just oozes catradora, so bear with me. and if you made it this far, damn you’re hot.

The 1

Adora’s pov. before they actually got together.  

“I'm doing good, I'm on some new shit/ Been saying "yes" instead of "no" -> her new life in Brightmoon and all her new good experiences.

“And if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow” -> such an Adora thing to say.

“But we were something, don't you think so?/ Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool/ And if my wishes came true/ It would've been you/ In my defense, I have none/ For never leaving well enough alone/ But it would've been fun/ If you would've been the one” -> the longing, the yearning

“And it's another day waking up alone“ -> :( 

“I persist and resist the temptation to ask you/ If one thing had been different/ Would everything be different today?”

Cardigan

Catra’s pov. 

“And when I felt like I was an old cardigan/ Under someone's bed/ You put me on and said I was your favorite”

“A friend to all is a friend to none/ Chase two girls, lose the one/ You drew stars around my scars/ But now I'm bleedin'”

“But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss/ I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs/ The smell of smoke would hang around this long/ 'Cause I knew everything when I was young/ I knew I'd curse you for the longest time/ Chasin' shadows in the grocery line/ I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired/ And you'd be standin' in my front porch light/ And I knew you'd come back to me”

Exile

now rlyyy bear with me. It gets confusing. And big. It's the whole song too.

Bon iver's verse + Swift's chorus is Catra seeing adora move on so quickly and leaving Adora behind. 

Swift's verse + Bon Iver's chorus is Adora's pov. And then they merge in the bridge to air their grievances. I'll demonstrate below.

“I can see you standing, honey/ With his arms around your body/ Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all/ And it took you five whole minutes/ To pack us up and leave me with it/ Holdin' all this love out here in the hall”  +  “I think I've seen this film before/ And I didn't like the ending/ I'm not your problem anymore/ So who am I offending now?/ You were my crown, now I'm in exile, seein' you out/ I think I've seen this film before/ So I'm leaving out the side door = Catra’s pov

“I can see you starin', honey/ Like he's just your understudy/ Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me/ Second, third, and hundredth chances/ Balancin' on breaking branches/ Those eyes add insult to injury”  +  “I think I've seen this film before/ And I didn't like the ending/ You're not my homeland anymore/ So what am I defending now?/ You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out/ I think I've seen this film before = Adora’s pov

and then the bridge with both.(it’s one hell of a giant bridge, not gonna paste it here lol)

My tears ricochet

This one i see as a conversation, one that I'll again exemplify lol.

“And if I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes, too/ Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe/ All the hell you gave me?/ 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you/ 'Til my dying day” -> both of them 

“I didn't have it in myself to go with grace/ And you're the hero flying around, saving face” ->Catra

“And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake?/ Cursing my name, wishing I stayed” -> Adora

“Look at how my tears ricochet” -> both

“I didn't have it in myself to go with grace/ 'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave” -> Adora

“And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake?/ Cursing my name, wishing I stayed” -> Catra

“Look at how my tears ricochet” -> both

“And I can go anywhere I want/ Anywhere I want, just not home/ And you can aim for my heart, go for blood/ But you would still miss me in your bones/ And I still talk to you (When I'm screaming at the sky)/ And when you can't sleep at night (You hear my stolen lullabies)” -> both

“You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same/ Cursing my name, wishing I stayed” -> both

“You turned into your worst fears/ And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain” - > Adora

“Crossing out the good years” ->both.

I could honestly make a whole post about this song and Catradora, dissecting lyric by lyric, I even have an animatic for this song thumbnailed, so I’ll jump to the next one before it gets too out of hand. again y’all can ask me anytime if you want to know more.

Mirrorball

Adora and her self sacrificial bs and not being rly her so she can be what everyone expects *from* her. Make me cry more, why don’t you!

“I'm a mirrorball/ I'll show you every version of yourself tonight/ I'll get you out on the floor/ Shimmering beautiful/ And when I break, it's in a million pieces”

“Hush, when no one is around, my dear/ You'll find me on my tallest tiptoes/ Spinning in my highest heels, love/ Shining just for you”

“Hush, I know they said the end is near/ I can change everything about me to fit in/ I'm still on that tightrope/ I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me/ And I'm still a believer, but I don't know why/ I've never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try/ I'm still on that trapeze/ I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me”

Seven

Baby Adora to baby Catra. 

“And I've been meaning to tell you/ I think your house is haunted/ Your dad is always mad and that must be why/ And I think you should come live with me/ And we can be pirates/ Then you won't have to cry/ Or hide in the closet/ And just like a folk song/ Our love will be passed on”

August

older teen/adult Catra reminiscing about younger teen Catra dealing with her love for Adora. Probably the last August before Adora joined the rebellion. (ignoring the love triangle ofc)

“But I can see us lost in the memory/ August slipped away into a moment in time/ 'Cause it was never mine/ And I can see us twisted in bedsheets/ August sipped away like a bottle of wine/ 'Cause you were never mine”

“I remember thinkin' I had you/ Back when we were still changin' for the better/ Wanting was enough/ For me, it was enough/ To live for the hope of it all/ Cancel plans just in case you'd call/ And say, "Meet me behind the mall"/ So much for summer love and saying "us"/ 'Cause you weren't mine to lose”

This is me trying

Catra's pov/redemption

“I've been having a hard time adjusting/ I didn't know if you'd care if I came back/ I have a lot of regrets about that/ Pulled the car off the road to the lookout/ Could've followed my fears all the way down/ And maybe I don't quite know what to say/ But I'm here in your doorway/ I just wanted you to know that this is me trying/ And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound/ It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you/ You're a flashback in a film reel”

Illicit affairs

Just leaving it out here cause it is so gayyy. And I'll prob write an au for this once I'm through with my five thousand WIPs.

Invisible string

Just the feeling of the song, not exactly catradora specific. More generic.

“Time, curious time/ Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs/ Were there clues I didn't see?/ And isn't it just so pretty to think/ All along there was some/ Invisible string/ Tying you to me?/  Time, mystical time/ Cutting me open, then healing me fine”

Mad woman

Catra's pov S1

“Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy/ What about that?/ And when you say I seem angry, I get more angry/ And there's nothing like a mad woman/ What a shame she went mad/ No one likes a mad woman/ You made her like that/ And you'll poke that bear 'til her claws come out”

Epiphany 

Adora dying in catra's arms and dreaming about her future with catra. 

“"Sir, I think he's bleeding out"/ And some things you just can't speak about/ With you I serve, with you I fall down, down/ Watch you breathe in, watch you breathing out, out/ Only twenty minutes to sleep/ But you dream of some epiphany/ Just one single glimpse of relief/ To make some sense of what you've seen”

Betty

Another case of a song with STRONG catradora vibe, but too au- ish. The imagery of the song is too clear. Still, these parts here… 

“The worst thing that I ever did/ Was what I did to you/ I'm only seventeen, I don't know anything/ But I know I miss you/ Yeah, I showed up at your party/ Will you have me? Will you love me?/ Will you kiss me on the porch/ In front of all your stupid friends”

Peace

adora's pov. I think is Adora kinda warning Catra that she can’t promise to stop saving the world, she can’t stop being she-ra, it is who she is and danger is going to follow her, so, is it enough if she can never give Catra peace?

“I never had the courage of my convictions/ As long as danger is near/ And it's just around the corner, darlin'/ 'Cause it lives in me/ No, I could never give you peace”

“All these people think love's for show/ But I would die for you in secret”

“The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me/ Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?”

From "evermore"(FUCKING FINALLY and everything is going to be au-ish I guess)

Champagne problems

Adora's pov, but i resent this cause THEIR PROBLEMS ARE NOT CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS OKAY? but nevertheless, It’s adora leaving Catra behind and breaking my heart in the fucking process.

“You booked the night train for a reason/ So you could sit there in this hurt”

“Because I dropped your hand while dancing/ Left you out there standing/ Crestfallen on the landing/.../ Your heart was glass, I dropped it”

“You had a speech, you're speechless/ Love slipped beyond your reaches/ And I couldn't give a reason”

How evergreen, our group of friends/ Don't think we'll say that word again/.../ I never was ready so I watch you go/ Sometimes you just don't know the answer/ 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you”

Gold rush

Catra's pov pining over Adora before and after she became She-ra, but especially after with the bit “I don’t like that everyone would die to feel your touch”. After all the pining and imagining what a perfect relationship they could have she wakes up to reality and sees that “it could never be”, “It will never be”. 

“Gleaming, twinkling/ Eyes like sinking ships on waters/ So inviting, I almost jump in”

“I don't like anticipatin' my face in a red flush/ I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch/ Everybody wants you/ Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you”

“What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?/ With your hair falling into place like dominoes”

“At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit/ And the coastal town we wandered 'round had nеver seen a love as pure as it” 

“My mind turns your life into folklore/ I can't dare to dream about you anymore”

“'Cause it will never be”

‘Tis the damn season

Adora’s pov. Adora being the one who left because she has to, but she misses Catra and their old times together. However, she knows she won’t be able to stay so she’s asking for this weekend and breaking her own heart in the process.

“There's an ache in you, put there by the ache in me/ But if it's all the same to you/ It's the same to me”

“So we could call it even/ You could call me "babe" for the weekend/ ​'Tis the damn season, write this down/ And the road not taken looks real good now/ And it always leads to you and my hometown”

“You can run, but only so far/ I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave/ But if it's okay with you, it's okay with me/ Sleep in half the day just for old times' sake/ I won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay/ So I'll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends/ And wonder about the only soul/ Who can tell which smiles I'm fakin'”

“And the heart I know I'm breakin' is my own/ To leave the warmest bed I've ever known/ We could call it even/ Even though I'm leaving/ And I'll be yours for the weekend”

Tolerate it

Catra’s pov and how she thinks Adora feels towards her. How she only tolerated Catra until something bigger, better and shinier came along and she abandoned her.(what to expect from a track five, huh?)

“While you were out building other worlds, where was I?/ Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire?/ I made you my temple, my mural, my sky/Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life/ Drawing hearts in the byline/ Always taking up too much space or time”

“You assume I'm fine, but what would you do if I/ Break free and leave us in ruins/ Took this dagger in me and removed it/ Gain the weight of you then lose it/ Believe me, I could do it”

“If it's all in my head tell me now/ Tell me I've got it wrong somehow/ I know my love should be celebrated/ But you tolerate it”

Happiness

adora’s pov. I feel this is Adora letting Catra go after season 3. just, she loves Catra and there were many great moments because of her, but that doesn’t mean the hurt isn’t there now. also doesn’t mean she’ll be forever miserable, proved by her new life in Brightmoon. It’s her realizing that Catra is actually hurting her, and being angry and then letting go.(god this reminds me of a fanfic where catra stated that she was happy without Adora, could be happy without Adora. But with her, she could be happier)

“There'll be happiness after you/ But there was happiness because of you/ Both of these things can be true/ Past the blood and bruise/ Past the curses and cries/ Beyond the terror in the nightfall/ Haunted by the look in my eyes/ That would've loved you for a lifetime/ Leave it all behind/ And there is happiness”

“Tell me, when did your winning smile/ Begin to look like a smirk?/ When did all our lessons start to look like weapons/ Pointed at my deepest hurt?”

“I can't make it go away by making you a villain/ I guess it's the price I paid for seven years in Heaven/ And I pulled your body into mine/ Every goddamn night, now I get fake niceties/ No one teaches you what to do/ When a good man hurts you/ And you know you hurt him, too” -> this whole bridge, man. THIS RIGHT HERE. They both hurt each other, there’s no simple clean cut way to look at things, to make Catra the big bad villain. but that also doesn’t erase the pain felt, so argh, this kills me.

“All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness/ You haven't met the new me yet/ And I think she'll give you that” -> and this little hint of hope.

Dorothea(i swear, i will write a Dorothea/tis the damn season au)

Adora is dorothea and this is Catra’s pov

“Hey, Dorothea, do you ever stop and think about me?/ When we were younger down in the park/ Honey, making a lark of the misery”

“You got shiny friends since you left town/ A tiny screen's the only place I see you now”

“It's never too late to come back to my side/ The stars in your eyes shined brighter in Tupelo/ And if you're ever tired of bеing known for who you know/ You know that you'll always know me, Dorothea (Uh-uh)/Dorothea”

coney island

again, both povs. one to each other, illustrated below.

“Did I close my fist around something delicate?/ Did I shatter you?/ And I'm sitting on a bench in Coney Island/ Wondering where did my baby go?/ The fast times, the bright lights, the merry go/ Sorry for not making you my centerfold” -> adora

“Over and over/ Lost again with no surprises/ Disappointments, close your eyes/ And it gets colder and colder/ When the sun goes down” -> both

“The question pounds my head/ What's a lifetime of achievement/ If I pushed you to the edge?” -> catra

“Were you waiting at our old spot/ In the tree line/ By the gold clock/ Did I leave you hanging every single day?” -> adora

“Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest grey?” -> Catra

“And when I got into the accident/ The sight that flashed before me was your face” -> Adora

“Sorry for not making you my centerfold” -both

Ivy (hold on tight, this is big)

this is a good one.

“How's one to know?/ I'd meet you where the spirit meets the bones/ In a faith forgotten land/ In from the snow/ Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow/ Tarnished but so grand”

“And the old widow goes to the stone every day/ But I don't, I just sit here and wait/ Grieving for the living”

“Oh, goddamn/ My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand/ Taking mine, but it's been promised to another/ Oh, I can't/ Stop you putting roots in my dreamland/ My house of stone, your ivy grows/ And now I'm covered in you so” ->  for me, this is Adora in the moments preceding the failsafe and the Heart of Etheria, and the person she’s committed to is She-ra(and dying as she-ra). And she’s trying to fight and be strong to make the sacrifice she knows she’ll be asked to, but she simply can’t stop Catra from “putting roots in her dreamland”. Catra’s touch enlightened her, even though tarnished by their years of being enemies, it felt grand and it could chase the pain away; just for a moment, all her pain fit in Catra’s hand. But, she grieves for this touch for she knows it’s only a dream. Even though she’s now “covered” in Catra, she’ll never be able to fully have her, not when she’s so committed to She-ra.

“I wish to know/ The fatal flaw that makes you long to be/ Magnificently cursed/ He's in the room/ Your opal eyes are all I wish to see/ He wants what's only yours” -> now here she’s in the heart of etheria and wondering why would Catra want her so much when she knows she can’t have her, when she knows she’s doomed. the He in this is Horde Prime. As we see in the “future hallucination”, all she wants is Catra and he wants(to destroy ofc) what’s Catra’s only - herself.

“How's one to know?/ I'd live and die for moments that we stole/On begged and borrowed time/ So tell me to run/ Or dare to sit and watch what we'll become -> Adora know it’s only borrowed time, it will end and she feels like there’s nothing she can do about that.

“So yeah, it's a fire/ It's a goddamn blaze in the dark/ And you started it/ You started it/ So yeah, it's a war/ It's the goddamn fight of my life/ And you started it/ You started it” -> here Adora is finally fighting back against Destiny, Prime, The Heart… and it’s all because Catra started it just by loving Adora, covering her in her ivy and making Adora so unable to not love her back.

(can you tell this is one of my favorite songs in the album?)

long story short

honestly, post-war catradora. Adora’s pov.

“Fatefully/ I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me/ Misery/ Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep/ And you passed right by/ I was in the alley, surrounded on all sides/ The knife cuts both ways/ If the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break”

“When I dropped my sword/ I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door/ And we live in peace/ But if someone comes at us, this time, I'm ready/ No more keepin' score/ Now I just keep you warm (Keep you warm)/ No more tug of war Now I just know there's more”

“And I fell from the pedestal/ Right down the rabbit hole/ Long story short, it was a bad time/ Pushed from the precipice/ Climbed right back up the cliff/ Long story short, I survived”

closure

catra to adora pre season 5

“it's been a long time/ And seeing the shape of your name/ Still spells out pain/ It wasn't right/ The way it all went down/ Looks like you know that now”

“Yes, I got your letter/ Yes, I'm doing better/ It cut deep to know ya, right to the bone/ I know that it's over, I don't need your/ Closure, your closure”

“Don't treat me like/ Some situation that needs to be handled/ I'm fine with my spite/ I know I'm just a wrinkle in your new life/ Staying friends would iron it out so nice/ Guilty, guilty, reaching out across the sea/ That you put between you and me/ But it's fake and it's oh so unnecessary”

Evermore

just the message in general i think fits season 5 catradora very well. how, yeah, the pain sucks and it’s terrible but it won’t be for evermore. Justin’s bridge exemplify very well just the desperation of being in the middle of this whirlwind of pain, begging for a pause just to see if there’s any way to be recovered from that. it just so happens, there is. 

no exemples in this one, the vibe of speaks for itself and I’m rly tired right now.

...

oof, so there was it. Hope you liked it! show me some love cause this took a while lol(but a got my TS marathon done without feeling guilty, because at least… content? so there’s that). if you made it this far, THANK YOU!! stream evermore and good night y’all(or morning or afternoon, wtv works for your timezone lol) 

[yikesharringrove]

His Fault.

Thank you @thinger-strang for the commission! 💕

Read on Ao3

Steve took Max first, grabbing her around the knees and lifting.

He didn’t know which kid was which, just picked them up and shoved them through the hole in the ground.

No thoughts in his head besides getting the kids to safety.

He was still dizzy from the fight, from Max’s wild driving, from being thrown into low oxygen conditions.

He grabbed Dustin.

The last kid to get through.

There was a rumble.

The ground shook.

And Steve stared death right in its face.

A pack of demodogs, heading right for them.

He grabbed Dustin, thought maybe, maybe he could shield him.

If this kid dies, it’s all my fault.

But the ‘dogs passed them by.

On their way to protect from El.

Because their plan didn’t work. Their carefully crafted idea to help El was bullshit.

He pushed Dustin up to safety.

He had brought these kids down here for no reason.

They had all gotten hurt for no reason.

All because of him.

-

Steve’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

He was trying to get himself to get up, get out of the car.

Staring through the windshield at the small service.

Barb’s funeral.

The girl that died right outside his house. The girl who died in his pool.

The girl he killed.

By being too preoccupied with Nancy. By being too much of a stupid fucking jock.

It’s all his fault.

He got out of the car, stayed mostly to himself throughout the service.

He hugged Barb’s parents afterwards, offered his condolences.

He got the feeling that they never really liked him.

That’s okay. He doesn't really blame them.

And if they knew, if they knew what he did to their Barb-

They would do more than just not like him.

He spent the rest of the day in bed, thoughts of your fault your fault your fault whipping through his brain.

He killed Barb.

-

Steve was trying to think quickly.

It was a little tricky, what with the pounding in his head, the hits he was taking right to the gut.

He needed to somehow talk his way out of this.

Which sucked because talking has never been his strong point.

But he brought Robin into all of this. He had let Erica climb through those vents to get them into the elevator. He had helped Dustin suss out what the message meant.

Actually, he hadn’t.

He had been too fucking stupid to help with that.

No.

He had just encouraged the translation that was happening around him.

Had just walked three people right into the clutches of the Upside Down, and these violent goddamn Russians, and-

That one hurt.

He woke up sometime later to Robin yelling.

“Hey, will you stop yelling?”

“Steve! Oh my God! Steve!”

She sounded, actually relieved.

“Are you okay?”

-

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

Robin was sitting next to him, both wrapped in thick blankets.

They had their own ambulance, Nancy and Jonathan in the one next door.

He had watched them take Billy off on a gurney, watched them slam a defibrillator to his body until his heart started beating again, watched them load him into the back of an ambulance, and take him off to the hospital.

The adrenaline, the heavy drugs, it was all out of his system.

And he was crashing.

“I shouldn’t have roped you into this. I shouldn’t have talked Dustin into translating the tape, I shouldn’t have-”

“Okay, Dingus. Let’s get some things straight. I’m pretty sure Dustin talked you into the translations. I don’t know if you’d be able to talk Dustin into anything. And you didn’t rope me into shit.”

“I mean, I mean with the Upside Down. This whole fucking conspiracy. You deserved to go your whole damn life without knowing any of this.”

“But Steve, I know about it now. The milk has been spilled. So stop crying.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Yes, it is.

-

“Hi, welcome to Family- Nancy?”

Nancy had stopped in the doorway, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“Steve. I didn’t know you were working here.”

“Yeah. You know, with the mall being all, burnt down. And stuff.” She nodded slowly, stock still in the doorway. “Can I help you find something?”

“No. Thanks. I’m just browsing.”

“Well, uh, let me know if you need help. Or ask Robin, maybe. She’s better with the recommends.” Nancy seemed to startle, stepping into the store properly.

“Thanks, Steve.” He smiled tightly at her.

They really hadn’t talked since breaking up.

Of course, they’d spoken in the summer, but that was less exchanging pleasantries, more how do we stop the giant fleshy monster that’s trying to take over the whole world?

Which isn’t quite the same.

She browsed through the aisles, Steve doodling on the carbon pad next to the register.

She smiled tightly at him, a few tapes in hand.

“So, uh, how are you?” They hadn’t spoken since that night. Since he wandered over to her ambulance, checking in with her and Jonathan.

“I’m okay. Just working and stuff. Obviously.”

“And how’s Billy?”

“Managing. He’s in all kindsa therapy and stuff now.”

“That’s, that’s good.” She was all stiff as he handed her her change. “It’s good to see you, Steve.”

“Yeah, Nancy. Yeah, you too.”

He hated how shitty and awkward that had been.

Hated that she was the person he felt closest to for the better part of a year, and now they’re stuck with light conversation and forced smiles.

He pushed her so hard.

Always poking and poking.

Always too clingy, always too emotional, not emotional enough. Too insensitive, or just too much work.

He doesn’t know how anyone puts up with him.

-

“Hey,” Billy smiled softly at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, now that my little nurse is here.” Steve rolled his eyes, smiling back as he sat on the bed next to Billy.

He had brought him to his house from the military hospital.

Billy still had a long road of healing. His scars were pulled together, and the wounds were closed, but everything was still pretty rough.

“Can I get you anything?” Billy reached over for him.

His hands were scarred and rough, and he was still trying to regain feeling, the nerves having suffered far too much damage.

“Nah. Just sit with me.”

Steve took one of his hands, stretching his hand like the doctor had shown him.

“Have you eaten today?”

“Nah. My stomach’s all outta whack today. Don’t know if I could keep anything down.” Steve furrowed his brows.

“Are you, can I make you something? Soup?”

“Stevie, I’m okay. One day’s not gonna kill me.” It felt like the bottom dropped out of his stomach. Something must've shown on his face because Billy was trying to sit up. “Sorry, that was a shitty joke.”

“No, I just-”

“It’s okay. Sorry.” Steve tried to gather himself.

“Don’t like jokes about you dying. Thought you were dead for, for like a week, you know. Before they told us you were stable.”

“Baby, it’s alright. I know it was hard on you.” Steve blinked rapidly.

“But I mean, it’s like, youwere the one, the one in the hospital I shouldn’t,” he stood up, Billy wincing as the bed shifted. “I’m gonna make you something.”

He was holding back tears as he spread peanut butter and jelly onto saltine crackers.

Billy had the best luck keeping it down when he felt sick.

He felt like shit whenever he did that. Got all mopey on Billy.

Billy was the one trying not to die in a hospital bed. Steve was just, doing what Steve does.

Making everything about himself.

He brought Billy the plate, kneeling next to him in bed.

“You okay?” Steve just shook his head, plastering on a nice smile for Billy.

“I’m fine, Bill. Just try to eat? For me?”

Billy managed three of the crackers before he heaved into the garbage bin placed next to the bed.

Steve felt like shit.

Billy’s core muscles were still healing, and throwing up only made him sore, made him tired and in pain.

“Billy, I’m sorry.”

He shouldn’t have made Billy eat. Shouldn’t have tried to make himself feel better by force-feeding Billy while he felt bad.

When he finally stopped, Steve helped him to the bathroom to wash out his mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

“Steve, it’s not your fault.”

“But you said you didn’t feel good.”

“You’re just trying to take care of me.”

Keyword here being trying.

Trying and failing at taking care of Billy.

-

“Steve, are you busy tonight?” Dustin had thrown open the door to Family Video stomping inside.

“I mean, no but I thought, isn’t tonight your big tournament?”

Dustin sighed dramatically.

“The arcade is closed.”

Dustin had been saving up for months, using the end of the summer to mow neighbors’ lawns.

Steve had even paid him to mow his own lawn.

He and the gang were going to rage for hours, Dustin organizing a special secret prize for whoever got the highest cumulative score.

He had put so much thought into everything, had been so excited.

And the arcade was closed.

“Can I talk to Keith?”

“Be my guest.”

Dustin pushed into the backroom.

Steve could hear his voice, could hear him arguing with Keith.

He came back out, Keith following behind.

“Harrington, I told you, customers aren’t allowed in the back.” He pointed to the Employees Only sign on the door. “Can you even read?” Keith rolled his eyes. Steve studied his shoes.

“And Henderson, I told you, the arcade is closed for renovations. A pipe burst in the storeroom.” Dustin Huffed. “Just, rent a movie or something. But you know, don’t ask for Harrington’s recommendation.”

Keith laughed to himself as he retreated to the back.

“Like I would ask you for a recommendation. I know what kind of movies you like.” Steve forced a smile at him.

“Sorry about your game night.” Dustin shrugged.

“I thought it’d be fun. We haven’t played DnD since Will moved. It just feels wrong without him, I guess. I thought this could bring us back to the fun spirit.”

“It’s a good idea. I’m sorry you’re gonna have to postpone.”

Steve just kinda lived with a big ol’ bit in his stomach these days.

But every time something like this happened, something where his friend was sad, and Steve was completely useless to help him, the pit seemed to grow.

He wonders what happens when the pit gets too big.

-

Billy stretched his arms above his head, wincing slightly.

“You okay?”

Billy blew out a breath, rubbing his chest.

“Yeah. Just cold. It hurts.” They were standing outside, waiting for the kids to be finished with school.

Steve drove Dustin and Max home, usually brought Billy along with him.

Neil had been one of the flayed, the only casualty Billy said he didn’t feel bad for.

So Max had moved with her mom into a tiny two-bedroom house.

Billy was still staying with Steve for the time being.

“Oh! I got a sweater in my trunk.” Steve ran around to the back of the car, unlocking the trunk and digging through.

He kept his car pretty clean, just his bat, some jumper cables, and a go-bag.

So he should see the sweater right away.

But he didn’t.

He frantically shifted everything around.

“No, no.”

The sweater wasn’t there.

“Fuck are you, are you serious?”

He genuinely could cry.

Billy was blowing into his hands, rubbing them together when Steve slumped back over to him.

“Billy, I’m sorry. It’s not in there.” Billy squinted at him.

“That’s okay.”

“I thought it was, but I must’ve taken it out, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Just, you know, come here and make it up to me.” He had a lazy smile on his face. “Come keep me warm.”

Steve wrapped himself around Billy, burying his face in his neck.

“I wish I could keep you warmer. I wish I had that sweater.”

“Baby, I’m okay. Just achy.”

Steve made sure to turn up the heat full blast when they got back in, the kids in the backseat.

-

“Fuck!”

The bottom of the box had given out, tapes crashing to the tiled floor.

He had been on his way to reshelve everything, after spending all day in the back rewinding.

But here he was, checking each plastic tape for cracks as he tried to find something else to put them in.

“Jesus Christ, Harrington.”

Ah, yes. That’s what he needs right now. Keith standing over him while he cleaned up the mess of tapes.

“What’d you do now?”

“The box, it just fell apart.”

“You know, Robin really went out on a limb to you to get this job.” Keith was standing over him, staring down at Steve sill kneeling on the ground. “Maybe I should just fire you both.”

“Wait, no!”

Steve’s heart was in his throat.

It felt like he was gonna choke on it.

“You, you can’t, I don’t care if you hate me, okay, just, just don’t fire Robin!”

Keith loved to do this. Dangle his measly power as manager over Steve.

Robin said it was some kind of revenge fantasy for how shitty Steve was to him in high school.

Steve just figures he deserves it.

Bottom of the food chain now. That’s where he is.

The guy that thought he was the hottest shit to walk the Earth. The guy that barely graduated. The guy that had to linger around his hometown. The guy has no life. The guy that has no future.

“Why not? She vouched for you.” Keith was eating a pack of M&Ms, crunching each one loudly between his teeth.

“Just, just don’t.” Steve felt like he could cry.

“Then get this cleaned up, and I’ll consider letting you both stay.”

Steve just nodded.

He didn’t think his voice would work without cracking all over the place.

He found a crate in the stockroom, stacking the tapes as quickly as he could.

He liked reshelving.

The organization system made sense, and he could do it easily without having to know anything about the movies, without having to know anything besides the alphabet, and the genre sticker each tape had.

Robin was better with customers.

Better at making change and recommending movies. Better at talking to people without sounding like an idiot.

But he finished reshelving, and had to retreat behind the counter.

“You’re being weird today.”

Steve had zoned out, staring through the front windows.

“Sorry.”

“Bad night?” he just nodded slowly. He didn’t want to tell her about Keith’s little threat. She would just go on a rampage. Probably yell at him a lot. And if Steve being a fuck up didn’t get her fired, defending him for sure would. Plus, it’s not like it’s a lie. Most nights are bad. “Steve, are you sure you’re okay? It feels like,” she glanced around. “It feels like you’re getting, like, worse.”

“Sorry.” She furrowed her brows.

“That’s not something you need to apologize for, you know that, right? I’m just worried about you.”

“Sorry.” Her face pinched up even more.

“Steve.”

“Yeah, I, just you know. Not sleeping much.”

“I could come over? You said it’s better when there’s sound in your house. I can stomp around for a while.” He huffed a laugh through his nose, giving her the biggest smile he could muster.

“That’s okay. I’m managing, Rob.” She raised one eyebrow. “And besides, I, uh, I won’t be home tonight.”

She made a face at him, pursing her lips so she didn’t smile.

Billy had gotten his own apartment with the money the government had given him, a little thank you for your discretion gift when he was released from the hospital.

He had spent nearly a month in a coma, a month in which Steve had only left his room a handful of times. After waking up, delirious, and in pain, he had spent the next six months in heavy rehabilitation, in daily therapy, both mental and physical, in which Steve practically lived at the hospital with him.

They had bonded more than Robin could ever know, both boys spilling everything to one another, every dark thought, every bad memory.

Long story short, they were inseparable.

“Then have a fun night. And talk to Billy. Tell him you’re struggling.”

“I’m not-”

She stomped her foot, giving him a stern look.

“Yeah, okay.”

-

“Shit.”

Steve knew he had a key to Billy’s apartment.

But it wasn’t on his key ring.

“Are you kidding me?” He knocked on the door.

It took Billy a few minutes to come get him.

“I’m sorry, I, I lost my key.” Billy looked tired . It was Thursday. Billy was a stockboy at Meldvald’s on Thursdays. His doctor said getting a job would be nice, that it would help him rejoin society, make him feel good to support himself, all this shit.

Mostly, it just made Billy’s sore.

“It’s okay.”

“No, but, it’s not on my ring! I don’t know where it fell off, it could be anywhere, you might have to change the locks or-”

“Steve! It’s fine. Just get in here.”

Steve snapped his jaw closed. Billy shuffled back to the couch, groaning as he sat down slowly.

“Can I get you something? Have you eaten? I can rub your back if-”

“Harrington, just come sit with me.” Billy was giving him a little half-smile.

Steve stumbled over to the couch, and tucked himself right under Billy’s arm.

“What are we watching?”

“Some soap. There’s been a marathon all evening. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen.” Steve leaned his head against Billy.

He had no clue what was going on. Had a question on the tip of his tongue, ready to ask about the plot points, the characters.

But he’s bothered Billy enough tonight, making him get up to open the door, always, always bothering-

“Hey, where’d you go?” Billy was stroking one rough hand through his hair.

“Nowhere.”

“Robin called me from the video store.” Steve sighed, burying his face into Billy’s neck. “We’re worried about you.”

“Don’t be. I’m okay.”

“Yeah, you’re always okay.” He said it like he was mad, like he was frustrated with Steve.

He pulled back, sliding to the other end of the couch.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry.” Billy was staring blankly at him. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“I’m not mad. What are you even-” he cut himself off. “Steve, talk to me. You’re getting, distant.”

“I’m-”

“Please stop apologizing.”

Steve swallowed thickly.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you. You’re slipping through my fingers, and I don’t know how to help you.”

“I-” Steve’s throat was closing up. “I don’t know what to do.”

Billy shifted stiffly, reaching out for Steve’s hand.

“Talk to me, Baby. You know I’ll listen.”

“I, uh, I just.” His jaw was moving, but he couldn’t form any words.

Billy took his hands, pulling him gently.

Steve let himself be tugged, let himself fall into Billy’s lap.

“It’s all my fault.”

“What’s your fault?”

“All of it.”

“Can you, maybe elaborate?”

“Everything. It’s all my fault.” His chest felt pulled tight, and he couldn’t fucking breathe. “Everything, everything. My fault.”

Billy had no fucking idea what to do.

Steve was breathing sharply, his eyes squeezed closed.

He had both hands in his hair, pulling roughly.

“Steve, hey.” He took his wrists, trying to stop him. “Steve, I need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that?” Steve shook his head.

“Just, just try to take as deep a breath as you can, okay?”

Billy was trying to remember what his shrink had told him, the tips for dealing with his own panic.

But watching Steve fall apart, well. It was hard for Billy to keep it together.

He sat with Steve, holding his hands until he opened his eyes, until he was breathing without Billy reminding him to do it.

“Steve. Sugar. Talk to me.”

Steve was still slumped over, still had his head in Billy’s lap.

He turned to bury his face in Billy’s thigh.

“Sometimes I feel like the world is crushing me. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Can you explain that to me? You said everything was your fault.”

“Like, like Barb. She, it was my fault she died, and my fault the kids almost got hurt in the tunnels, and my fault that Dustin and Robin and Erica got stuck in the lab, and, and, and I’m so bad at taking care of you. I can’t do anything right.”

Billy could feel his tears, wet patches soaking through his sweatpants.

“You do a lot of stuff right!”

“Keith told me he was gonna fire Robin today, because I messed up again.”

“Fuck Keith. No way that creep has firing power. And maybe you should talk to Robin. Or go to your boss about him. He just likes going on a power trip with you.

“And as for, well everything, Pretty Boy, none of that was your fault. Barb was killed by, by a monster-”

“At my house, at my party, in my pool.”

“Still not your fault.”

“I thought she had left, you know? I didn’t know she was out there.”

“That just proves my point! You didn’t know she was out there, you didn’t know what was going to happen. That whole event , it had nothing to do with you. And the kids like, fully kidnapped you to bring you to the tunnels. If anything, that’s my fault for, you know. Doing what I did.”

Billy took a deep breath.

“I know a lot about guilt. I know how it feels like you’re just, you’re drowning. And you’re never gonna get to the surface, but that, that stuff. People make their own choices. You can’t control what other people do, you can just control what you do. And you, you do nothing but good. You just love, and you love, and you love. You always do what you think is best, and that’s what matters.”

“I feel bad all that time. Like, like right now I feel bad because, because of course you feel guilty, and I’m saying shit that doesn’t matter, and my problems they don’t-”

“Don’t you dare say your problems don't matter.” Billy was tangling his fingers through Steve’s hair, playing with it gently. “Your problems matter . They matter to me. It hurts me that you're struggling. It hurts me that I didn’t notice.”

“Billy, it’s not your fault.”

“You say that like it’s so easy. You take my guilt and you ease it. And that’s what I want for you.” Steve wasn’t crying anymore, but he was still curled up on the couch, still had his face pressed against Billy’s leg.

“I don’t know how. I’ve been so thoroughly crushed under all this that I’m scared of what happens if I claw through it all.”

“Maybe you won’t feel like shit all the time.”

“Feeling like shit is the easy part. It’s predictable.”

“I know. It’s safe .”

“Yeah. What do people even think about if they aren’t thinking about all the problems of the people closest to them and finding ways to blame themselves?” Billy laughed at that. Steve could feel his belly moving next to him.

It was a nice moment.

“I don’t know. That’s what movies and books are for. When you’ve got shit else to think about because you’re not trapped under a mountain of guilt.”

“Probably why I’ve read so few books, then.”

“We need to start watching more movies.”

-

“We need to talk about Steve.”

“Hi, Robin. It’s great to see you. How’s your day?” Robin rolled her eyes. She was leaned over the counter at Family Video, flicking through a magazine.

“He had a break down last night.”

“Finally. He’s been hanging on by a thread for weeks,”

“Yeah, try years.” She looked up at him.

“What do you mean?”

“He like, unloaded fully. He still blames himself for the girl that got killed in his backyard.”

“Wait, he thinks that’s his fault?”

“Yeah, and the kids in the tunnels, and also you and Dustin and Erica being brought into the whole mess. And also that he’s bad at taking care of me? Which, don’t know how he got that one. He does a really fucking good job taking care of me.”

“Jesus. He’s like, stressed.”

“To put it lightly.”

“So, what’s up? Where do I come in?”

“I’m planning an evening. A We Love Steve Harrington party.”

“I can be snack duty.” He smiled at her, clapping her on the shoulder. “It just us?”

“Yeah. I figured to leave the kids out of this one.”

“Good choice.”

“Be over at seven.” She nodded once, giving him a two-finger salute.

-

Steve was curled up, Billy spooned up behind him when there was a knock on the door.

“Go get that, will you? I’m all stiff.” Steve turned around, looking at Billy all concerned. “Go on. I’m okay.”

Billy had to shove him away before he finally went to answer the door.

“Oh, Robin, uh, hey.” She pushed one of her shopping bags into his arms.

“I was invited for an evening of bolstering you up.”

Billy came lumbering in, throwing himself down on the couch.

“I, don’t get it.”

“Robin’s here because you need some lovin’.” Steve’s bottom lip wobbled.

“That’s really nice.”

“You deserve it.” Billy was looking at him seriously.

Steve tucked himself into Billy’s side, Robin shoving herself next to him on the little couch.

Billy had pulled out all his lumpy blankets, and they had already torn into a box of cookies.

Steve was all warm.

Curled up in the blankets, watching The Aristocats.

“Thank you, guys. For this. It means a lot.”

“Can it, Dingus. Thomas O’Malley’s gonna sing.”