Tumgik
#this will be edited and posted on AO3 eventually but have it here for now
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Lazy Mornings
Summary: Mountain goes outside to have a bit of morning time to himself, the day is exceptionally pretty with everything seemingly lining up to be a perfect early day nap.
He rests against the shore of the lake, and Rain spots him. Of course Rain can't resist bugging Mountain just a bit when he looks so pretty.
Warnings/tags: Trans Rain, Vaginal sex, Vaginal fingering, Biting, Inhuman ghouls, Sleepy sex, Semi-public sex, and lastly rough sex at the end.
Rating: Explicit, MDNI 18+
Length: 3k words
Notes: Originally posted on my Ao3, just a few edits from that version for cohesiveness. I'm still learning to format here, so hopefully there aren't any issues! :')
Mountain stretched as he took in the scene of the outside, morning dew still littered the grass. The leaves were rustling in the trees above and there was a breeze rolling over the lake behind the church. He walked forward, quite happy to be in his element.
He continued until he reached a sandy patch beside the lake, some small grasses growing in the sand. He then leaned back, letting the sun hit his skin and features. A lazy yawn comes out of him as he just listens around him..
Birds are singing their songs, the wind is blowing, the water is lapping gently, at times, he can even hear when a fish comes up for a moment. Does he hear frogs in the distance..?
No matter, this was the perfect day to get a morning nap in. The little grass on the sand was already enveloping his body, small flowers sprouting in his hair as he was perfectly content. There was a quiet ripple in the lake as his body relaxed, he hadn't exactly noticed that's not normal. He was too sleepy.
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His tail was thumping lazily on the ground until eventually even that stopped as his chest slowed. For the untrained eye he appeared dead, but he was just sleeping. Small snores coming out of him erratically, inside the lake he had a watcher.
Rain sat lurking barely underneath the water, he finally pushed his head up a bit as he noticed Mountain was now passed out. Rain had come out earlier in the morning when the sun was still low. The cool water tends to help calm his nerves and he likes to think while submerged.
“Mountain?” Rain called out quietly as he swam closer. He didn't want to startle the gentle giant.. Although his sleeping was quite idyllic. Rain has yet to figure out how someone could ever look so relaxed, but Mountain lets a lot of things just slide off of him quietly and without a fuss.
Apparently it saves a lot of heartache and drama that way, which is probably a lifesaver when you're in such a large group like the ghouls. Rain would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little bit envious of Mountain sleeping so nicely.
He finally swam closer to the shore, carefully stepping out and not making too much noise as he did so. Where did he leave his clothes? Rain peered around the area for a moment before remembering he left them on the dock. They actually have a dock because some like fishing, uh.. Rain can't really consider himself the biggest fan of fishing. He'd rather be soaking in the water than sitting above it.
He walked closer to Mountain, his hair dripped over Mountain for a moment. Mountain groaned a bit, his eyes barely opened until he saw it was Rain. “Rainy?” He muttered, sleep still thick in his voice. “Yeah, just me big guy.” Rain says as he laid down beside Mountain, he stretched lazily with a small yawn.
He let out a small noise of shock seeing Mountain was staring at him, “Where are your clothes?” Mountain asked genuinely curious. Still, it was so forward that it caught Rain off guard. “On the dock..” Rain confessed as he sat back up a bit.
Mountain was gazing at him, in a quite peculiar way. Rain recognised that look even while Mountain was sleepy. “You want something, Mount?” Rain questioned, his head tilting as he shadowed Mountain. Mountain stayed laying down, eyeing Rain carefully as yawned a tiny bit. “Maybe.” He finally said, Rain has a small grin but he doesn't give in yet. He prods at Mountain's stomach. "Gonna tell me what?" Rain questioned, his fingertips barely moved underneath Mountain's shirt and messed with the fuzzy hair leading down to his pants.
Mountain let out a particularly harsh breath of air as his eyes were half lidded, finally he relented. "You." He breathed out quietly, "There we go, that's all I wanted you to say." Rain says with a pleased tone, he then pushed himself a bit down so he could start unzipping Mount's pants. Mountain lifted his hips up a bit to make it easier on Rain when it was time to slide the pants down, he didn't slide them down too far just about half way down his thighs.
"Isn't it a pretty day? I saw you- From the lake.. You look like you'd agree with that statement." Rain mused quietly, Mount barely nodded his head. "It's really pretty today." He says, Rain watched as the flowers in his hair seemed to bloom harder for a moment.. As if it was even possible. He was practically still beaming being so relaxed right now. Rain traced a single finger down Mount's bulge, he hissed a little but otherwise didn't react. Well, that wouldn't do.
His hand finally grasped Mount firmly out of the safety of his boxers, Rain paused for a brief moment to admire the half chub currently. Arguably the best state you can find someone in..
Rain glanced upwards to see Mountain was staring at the clouds above. His eyes a bit more awake now but still not fully there, he didn't say anything. Mount being sleepy is the easiest to work with- Not that he's difficult to work with in general! Just.. He tends to be frisky when he's sleepy. It's easier to get things started.
Rain pushed aside his own desire as he started to stroke Mountain quietly, he didn't make any noises but if looks could devour.. Well, Mountain would easily be the most fulfilling meal of his life. The pace was firm, coming in quick yet hard strokes.
His thumb rubbed over the head, pushing the foreskin down for a moment. A small gush of pre came out at that making Rain grin, Mountain was breathing heavier but otherwise didn't react. At least not by much, it's the subtle things.. His tail was thumping again with the occasional swish, the flowers in his hair were growing in numbers, his face had a blush creeping on it.
"Is it nice?" Rain questioned, watching as small beads of sweat formed on the side of Mount's all too beautiful face. How criminal it is to be so relaxed and so gorgeous at the same time.
Mountain replied with a noise between a hum and a moan making Rain laugh a small bit, he briefly stopped to lean down and kiss Mountain. Though it quickly became heated as Mount was clearly more awake now, his hands holding Rain down to him fairly easily. Their tongues met each other, Rain threatened to nip Mountain's when it peeked into the others mouth. Finally Rain tapped Mountain, needing air. Mountain reluctantly released, Rain taking rather greedy breaths of air.
"Are you awake now?" Rain questioned between breaths. "Mm. Yeah." Mountain says as he sat up, he began to unbutton his shirt then he gestured towards Rain. "And you..?" Mount questioned, Rain was already naked but he's sure slick was gathering between his thighs as he had been watching Mount with an intense gaze the entire time.
"Ah.. I wasn't too worried about myself." Rain admitted shyly, his fangs nipped at his bottom lip for a moment as he watched as the fabric slid off of Mountain's figure. Immediately his eyes feasting on all of Mountain's body, his hands drifted towards the others pants and boxers helping slide those off too.
He heard a noise similar to a grumble before realising Mountain was laughing some, Rain immediately pouted. "What's so funny?" Rain asked, Mount shook his head. "Nothing, I just like watching you look. It's.. Cute. You're very focused with your gaze." Mountain says, Rain wanted to roll his eyes but couldn't find it in him to do so. Suddenly Mountain slapped a bit against his bare thigh, catching Rain's attention. "Ready raindrop?" He questioned, his head had a puppy-like tilt that Rain would be lying if he said didn't have an allure to it.
He was hesitant only for a moment but desire was quick to take over, "Yes." He whispered as he inched closer to Mount. "Remember, stoplight system.." Mountain says, Rain tends to get a bit carried away during sex. But colours are easy to remember and he knows when Mount asks for a colour to call one back pretty quickly, no matter how elated he is about a particular action. "I know. We're green right now, so help me onto you." Rain huffed in desperation, he didn't want to beg for help, but dammit, he would if he needed to.
Mountain didn't need to be told twice, however he did test the.. waters. Okay, admittedly the pun made him chuckle a bit out loud. But more seriously he needed to make sure Rain was sufficiently lubricated and able to take him, the last thing he'd want to do is injure the poor water ghoul.
So this required a position change, Rain got on his back with fair ease and Mountain was now between his legs. Not.. for any particular reason but just because it was the easiest position of course. Rain hissed as he felt one finger prod at his folds, he was sensitive.
So.. When he said he was relaxing in the lake earlier he might have been doing a few other extra activities as well. For relaxation. The good news is water ghouls are self lubricating, they produce a lot of liquids in general because of that. Mountain was using this to his advantage as he gathered the slick gathering outside of Rain's slit, stroking himself with the excess.
Rain panted quietly, too much damn teasing. Well, he doesn't think Mountain was intentionally teasing but it didn't matter if it felt like teasing. "Mount please.." Rain whined, now a bit more helpless in tone. "I know raindrop, I know." Mountain says back, he was taking his time by all means which was killing Rain.
Finally a tentative finger found its way inside of Rain, Rain moaned as it provided stimulation and relief. Mountain could tell already that Rain had been pleasuring himself alone earlier, he was too wet for it to be plausible just off of their interaction alone. Plus.. He was stretched already.
Still, he added another finger enjoying the sounds Rain was making as his legs tried to shut against Mountain's but were stopped as his thighs were broad and blocking the way. One of his hands reached up to stroke at Rain's horns, making the smaller ghoul keen into his touch. His mouth fell open with pretty noises, ah.. Horns are the weakness of all ghouls.
Their tails entwined as Mountain finally pushed one more finger inside of Rain, the three fingers pumping in and out lazily. Then, when Mountain noticed his breathing had got shaky he pulled away.
"Nooo.." Rain sobbed at the loss, Mountain was licking his fingers as if they were some delightful treat. He groaned as he did so, the taste making him grind against nothing. Fuck, as much as he wanted to taste Rain it'd mean he'd be finishing really soon.
He lied about earlier, by the way. The reason he had settled between his legs was just in case he wanted to eat the water ghoul out. Unfortunately it'd have to wait for a different day.
He took his cock into his hand, slowly moving towards Rain. He was lined up perfectly, with that being said he started the first push inside. Rain was wincing but didn't complain, "Colour?" Mountain called out just in case. "Green- Just.. Wish you'd hurry." Rain whined, he was always so impatient. Only matched by Dew who met his level of impatience, but.. At least Rain wasn't a brat like Dew. Normally anyway.
"I'll take as long as I like." Mountain says with an air of finality, the tone made Rain whimper a tiny bit. The head popped in easily, it briefly got caught which made Rain cry out a bit but Mountain moved past that. Now it was an easy slide inside, once hilted he waited until Rain was stable and then Rain nodded when he was ready.
Mountain changed positions, knowing Rain liked to cling onto him during this. Missionary had never failed them in times like this, his head fell between Rain's neck and shoulder. Fangs grazing the skin there as Rain whined loudly at the sensation, Mountain's hands ran up Rain's relatively sleek body. Then he moved, Rain moaned loudly almost immediately asking for more.
Mountain was happy to oblige, he set a steady pace with Rain as his hands were pulling and tugging on Rain's nipples, his fangs finally sunk into Rain's skin. Blood filled his mouth instantly, Rain whining as his hands tangled into Mountain's overgrown hair.
Mountain pulled away after he had suckled enough at the fresh wound, leaving a mark in its place with the fang marks. He moved on to kissing his poor desperate Rainy afterwards, Rain moaned at the metallic taste of his own blood. It's always an odd taste and sensation knowing it belongs to you but he never minded, his cheeks were quite flushed and his kiss with Mountain was needy.
His hands moving to wrap around Mounts neck instead, Rain pulled away to breathe as his lips felt bruised. "I'm close." Rain suddenly says, his eyes were dazed and somewhat lost. Still.. Mountain knew he needed an extra push, Mount hummed as he started to knead Rain's nipples once more. The small bulbs of flesh now being red from being tweaked and pulled so much, still.. It wasn't enough.
One of Mountain's hands trailed down to where the two were conjoined at, his other hand firmly planted beside Rain now. He rubbed at Rain's dick, pushing the hood back and rubbing the nub there. Rain cried out near immediately, so close.. So close. Then Mountain angled himself just right to drag against Rain's sweet spot and before he could even react or properly warn Mountain, he was coming- A gush of fluid around Mountain's cock made him groan, that.. That was obscene. He loved it.
He was a slower with his movements as he was working Rain through his high, the ripple of internal muscles made Mountain close himself but he wanted this to be good when he finished- He didn't want to end the fun just yet.
Finally, Rain's breathing was normal again and he gave Mountain a shaky nod seeing how feral he looked. "Green." He called out before Mountain could even ask, so came the rough part of sex.. He pulled out of Rain, flipping him over with Rain whining at the harsh treatment.
He liked it, they had established this beforehand which is why neither him or Mount reacted negatively. Rain already knew to spread his legs, Mountain was back on him but with a quicker and more erratic pace now. Rain was rubbing his own nipples and circling his dick, yet it wasn't as good as how Mount did it. He whined out helplessly at that realization, Mountain was shaky in his own movements now but he still noticed Rain was struggling.
Rain's hand at his cock was brushed away as Mountain took his place instead, barely holding himself back. He looked at how Rain's thighs trembled and how he was barely holding himself up, "Let go for me- Let go." Mountain says, his voice basically pleading.
Finally Rain let out a sharp cry as he came around Mountain for a second time. Mountain pushed in one last time before he came himself with a moan, his entire body became rigid and tense as he breathed deeply.
Mountain pulls out a few minutes later when he's softened up, cum seeping out of Rain in his wake. It was such a delightful sight, but he opted to check on Rain instead of sticking around to look at his handiwork. "Are you alright?" Mountain asked softly, Rain nodded before pulling Mountain into his face for a kiss.
Mountain was caught off guard but reciprocated as the two shared a deep kiss before mutually parting. "We need to go wash off really quickly." Rain declared, Mountain's eyes were already glazed over once more as he yawned again. "I could use a little wash up in the lake. I'm a bit sleepy now and not to mention dirty." Mount says, Rain laughed a bit.
"My sweaty Mountain." Rain says with a smile, tracing his fingers underneath Mountain's chin where the earth ghoul purred. His hand trailed upwards to stroke delicately at Mountain's horns before he pulled away as Mount sucked in a sharp breath.
"Sorry.. Still too sensitive." Mountain confessed quietly, "No worries. Come on- Let's get cleaned up." Rain says, he tried to stand up but ended up needing Mountain's help for that. The two walk into the warm lake together, "So.. I didn't want to tell you mid-sex but I'm pretty sure some of the others were outside with us." Mountain says as they reach a deeper part of the lake.
Suddenly, Rain had a furious blush and he looked nervous. "Seriously?!" Rain asked, unable to believe Mountain didn't tell him while he was being so noisy. "I could feel them walking on the grass.. But I didn't want you to stop moaning." Mountain says guiltily, Rain could only shudder and think of who heard.
Satanas, what if it wasn't a ghoul and instead someone like Copia?! He might melt from embarrassment. At least with the ghouls they were all in a group together, sleeping and romancing each other freely. Copia knew about their.. ehem, involvement with each other but not to what extent.
But Rain just shook it out of his mind with a sigh, "It's fine. Besides I'm sure it was Dew who came out to get his early morning smoke in." Rain says, he was swimming beside Mountain who was merely standing up. How could someone be so tall..?
"I'll tell you next time, but they did leave after hearing us." Mountain says more seriously, Rain had a small grin. "Well.." Rain started carefully, "I suppose getting caught is half the fun." Rain says before swimming over to nibble on Mount's bottom lip, "Now help me get cleaned up. We have practice in about two hours." Rain then says, Mountain chuckling as he nodded.
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keekeenuggets · 7 months
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RadioStatic Week, Day 2: Vintage / Modern
We were writing this for other reasons, but then realized it happens to fit the prompt for today, so... figured we'd post it. We probably don't have the energy to participate in a lot of the days for this week, but we're excited to see more of what other people create, regardless!
Summary: A year into Alastor's disappearance, Vox makes one last attempt to reach out to the demon -- he hosts a radio broadcast.
Title: Old-Timey
Day three hundred and sixty-five since the last time Vox had heard from Alastor. Not that he'd been keeping track. He only had the date memorized, of course, and he just happened to look at the calendar and notice how many days had passed. Just like he did every day. It was part of his daily routine, not that he would ever admit it. It just so happened that he had a calendar posted on his door, which he looked at every day before exiting his room. Of course he'd look, because how would he not look at before leaving his room? It only made sense.
But as much as he didn't want to admit it, he'd started actually growing concerned for the old prick. An extermination had passed, not too long ago, and Vox wanted some kind of confirmation that Alastor was still alive. Even more, he wanted to know that his old friend cared, but he knew that was asking too much.
Still, he had an idea. He had the right equipment for it. Though radio broadcasts weren't his thing, what if...? It was a long shot, but if anything would catch the Radio Demon's attention enough to get a response, it would be Vox, the modern television overlord, going live on the air an old-timey piece of junk.
He wouldn't abandon his TV equipment, of course. He'd simply both avenues at once. Talk about the Radio Demon's mysterious disappearance, perhaps. It was as interesting as any news segment that bitch Katie Killjoy could come up with. Most of her shit consisted of boring, desperate grabs for views. At least Voxtek could come up with things that garnered actual interest. The hypnotism didn't hurt, either.
"... And three. Two. One. Going live!"
Travis, the studio director who bounced back and forth between shooting for Vox's segments and Val's pornography happened to be in charge of cameras, that day. He was mediocre at the radio tech, but they managed. And with the push of a few buttons, he saw the green light that let him know he was live not only on the television, but also on the more traditional radio waves. The perfect venue for grabbing the attention of all citizens of hell. Not only the most up-to-date ones.
"Annnnd good day, fine sinners!" Vox grinned into the camera, his hands folded in front of him. "Today's broadcast is brought to you by Voxtek. Trust *us* with your news." His eye sent out waves of persuasion, for only a moment. Today, he was all about the audio. And no one, not even -- or especially not -- Alastor, would be able to hear the hypnotic frequencies. He had to rely on his charm and showmanship, today. But that was not a problem.
He cleared his throat. "I come live to you in a rather unique format. Yes, this time, I'm broadcasting over the radio, too. A little bit of traditional medium for old time's sake, right? It doesn't hurt, every once in a while." He laughed, to himself. Then he continued. "Now, we've got a special topic this morning, and it's the reason I've decided on this dual transmission. As some of you may be aware, the Radio Demon hasn't been around in quite some time." Speaking the words gave them a truth he didn't want to think about, but Vox kept the grin plastered on his face like his life depended on it. He refused to slip up. "In fact, it's been an entire year since his last reported sighting!" Not that he had checked every social media platform in case of any mention of the Radio Demon.
Except that was exactly what he'd done. And as the overlord of technology, he'd been able to keep an eye on cameras and through screens all throughout the Pentagram. Sure enough, Alastor was nowhere to be seen. That is, nowhere that modern technology had any reach, at the very least. He still didn't want to believe him to be dead, but the fact Alastor would work so hard to avoid any detection or communication with Vox was also infuriating. As if had never meant anything to the other overlord. Maybe he hadn't. But he didn't need to think about that.
"Now, there has been some speculation on where he's been. Having a nice vacay off-the-grid, entrapped by another, more powerful, overlord..." The last one didn't seem likely -- or at least had been a possibility Vox feared the thought of. The Radio Demon was already quite powerful to begin with. "Some even speculate that the demon might not be among us any longer at all!" That would be much worse, of course.
"But hey, maybe there are some upsides to this change of pace, am I right?" He said this only because he knew that if anything would get a response from Alastor, it would be demeaning his choice form of expression. "I mean, radio is so outdated. It's about time we give Hell a more modern entertainment makeover. And sure, as I said, radio can be fun every once in a while, but who wants to rely on only barely audible sources of pleasure? With no visuals?" He laughed. "Please. That's so old school. And we've got much better means of enjoyment, nowadays."
He paused. Half-expecting the Radio Demon to interrupt his broadcast. Such a thing certainly wasn't unheard of before. Alastor enjoyed displacing mediocre radio hosts. And though Vox was confident in his ability to entertain, he knew that his old thought of himself as superior. Maybe he was right; maybe he was wrong. Regardless, it was his opinion that made the difference, and yet, Vox's program remained uninterrupted. It was almost disappointing.
So Vox continued, sharing some of the theories and speculation he'd found online about Alastor's disappearance. All found while searching for any signs of him being spotted anywhere. Stories were all kept anonymous, and there were a few ideas he made up himself. But no one needed to know that. The viewers, the listeners, they were just there for the entertainment and fun. Most of them didn't care about what was genuine or not, so long as it was enthralling, and technically, Vox wasn't lying about anything -- only pretending that the speculator of some of the rumors wasn't himself.
The segment Vox had planned out was only about an hour long, and as the top of the hour began rapidly approaching, he started to feel more restless and agitated. It became clear that Alastor really wasn't listening. Or at least, wasn't planning on showing it. Responding at all. What an ass. A year of absolutely no contact after an argument-induced battle, no way of even knowing how he could possibly contact his old friend, and all after Vox had dared ask Alastor to join him in expanding the medium he worked with? As if it was such a major offense. At least Valentino and Velvette supported him, even though they didn't seem to understand, either. They didn't understand the joy of broadcasting, not in the same way Alastor had. They'd had that in common, and he still had been too stubborn to stray from radio, even a little bit.
"Well, that about wraps it up for this broadcast," Vox chimed as happily as he could muster. The viewers, he knew, didn't care whether the grin was genuine or forced, and most didn't know it was the latter anyway. "We'll be back later for some more daily news. In the meantime, I leave you with this ad from our sponsor. And don't forget: You can always trust us, Voxtek, with your entertainment."
As soon as the cameras shut off, Vox's smile faltered, but he plastered it right back on when Travis came up to him.
"We're done here, right?" He asked. "'Cause Val's expecting me down at his studio for a shoot. The rest of the camera crew can handle the afternoon broadcast for you."
"Yeah, yeah," Vox waved him off. "Go help Val. He won't let me hear the end of it, if I keep you." It was good news, though, if Valentino was going to be busy with a shoot. He knew Velvette had her work, too. And he just wanted to be alone.
He retreated to his room and sat surrounded by his screens, all connected to cameras and tech across town. City-wide surveillance. Vox flipped through different feeds absent-mindedly. As always, in the back of his mind, he was searching for one specific person. But he should have known, by now, it was pointless.
What if something really had happened to him? Vox shook his head, sighing at the thought. No. Alastor was too tough for that. He was the Radio Demon. No, it seemed more plausible that he was simply avoiding Vox. Avoiding all detection. How, Vox wasn't sure. Strange that he could disappear so effectively. But, of course, if anyone could do such a thing, it would be Alastor. For whatever his reasons, Alastor knew how to remove himself from the public view if he needed to. That was their thing, of course, media and coverage of different sorts. Vox figured he, too, could avoid being detected, if he'd wished.
Vox sighed. It was time to just admit what he didn't want to before. Whatever he had with Alastor before, if he ever had anything at all -- it was over. Truly. By this point? Any hope of having it back was futile.
The aching became rage, like a protective shield. Rage, bitterness, was easier to handle. It meant he wasn't being hurt, but that he was the one in control. He was the one that would do the hurting, if it ever came down to it. If he ever saw Alastor again. That had been one thing he'd learned from the Radio Demon. Always find a way to keep the upper hand.
With his control over technology, now, he would. And someday, Alastor would see what he left behind.
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ateliersss · 24 days
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Oh, take me back to The Night we met
Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: 1936, eighty-eight years ago, you met him, the creature that changed your life in a way that goes beyond human imagination. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: Attempted Rape, SA, Murder, English isn't my first language Word Count: 10.162 After the Blooming Family series
⇨ Surprise! I hope you are surprised because I was starting to doubt myself. I actually believed I wouldn't even finish it this year. Anyways, I wrote the finishing 6.800 words in the last seven hours and my brain is mush. I hope it didn't affect the pace or logic of the plot. If so, I will edit it in a few days. Comments are always appreciated.
⇨ Also, if you tell me I wrote an unrealistic reaction to seeing a Yautja's face for the first time, let me tell you, you and I wouldn't be here if I hadn't reacted the same.
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1936, Earth
“Thank you, ma’am.” The soldier in front of you returned your identity card, the national animal printed on it facing you.
You returned his bright smile with a tight one. You were already used to identifying yourself to patrolling soldiers after work. It was for “safety measures”, according to the government.
While you were busy putting away your identity card, the boy looked nervously over his shoulder to his comrade who nodded back to him, encouraging him to finally man up and just tell you what he had rehearsed a dozen times already to eventually make a move on you and ask you out.
“A-And thank you for your service, ma’am!” He blurted out, louder than he intended to, with a soft blush covering his cheeks.
You closed your purse and looked up at him in confusion.
The boy, you now noticed, had to be at least five years younger, probably around the same age as your younger brother, Emil. And you recognized him now, too. He was patrolling around this area two to three times a week.
At your confused face, he gestured a little awkwardly to your uniform, the white dress and blue-grey blouse underneath it. “D-Doctors and nurses are in desperate need in times like these a-and saving lives is a remarkable job!”
“Oh.” You looked down at yourself before you pulled your coat tighter around your body and smiled softly at him. “If that‘s all I‘ll take my leave now. Have a good night, gentlemen.”
He visibly deflated at your words and mumbled a quick “Have a nice evening, ma‘am.” but you barely got half of it when you turned around to continue your way back home. The second your back was facing them your smile dropped.
You hated it, hated this, this so-called life you and everyone around you had to live. Horrible and disgusting things were happening, but no one dared to speak up. You were all trapped, too scared to act, too afraid to do something.
And the people could feel it, the tension that was stretched so tautly that was just waiting to snap. The whole world was holding its breath, deferring that one moment when the match would ignite and reduce everything and everyone to rubble and ash.
Meanwhile, your brother was beaming with pride as he was now considered old enough to join the army and could finally fight for his country. On the other hand, your father, the only other family you still had in this world, was far more reluctant when it came to the plans of the government and his son’s naive blindness of patriotism.
No one was talking about the horrifying wrongs your home country was doing for years now, but everybody knew, everybody saw. And if someone even dared to utter a word about it, they disappeared.
That didn’t stop your father from ranting about it behind the closed doors of your home. He did so, of course, in Emil’s absence. He was family, yes, but nowadays blind obedience could manipulate even a brother and son to go against his own kin.
You loved your brother dearly. He was a good guy and he only held a very strong pride for his home, his people, and his culture. But sadly that was the only thing he acknowledged around others. He denied the “rumors” of a genocide going on and overlooked unintentionally the more sinister motives of others in the world of politics and the military. He was truly and utterly blind, but you couldn’t condemn him for that. Not really.
The Great War ended when Emil was three years old and you remembered him crying when your father told him he couldn’t participate in it anymore. Ignorant of the horrors that happened at the Front, he and a few boys from around the neighborhood would play war and were disappointed when they were told it was over. The worst part was the elder men sitting on benches near their battlefield, telling them their people were the superior power since they had been able to hold their own against three opposing countries in the end.
You sighed and started to fumble around in your purse for your keys as you reached your destination. After a quick look into the mailbox — the usual evening newspaper and another flyer that encouraged men between the ages of twenty and forty-five to sign up for the military — you made your way up to the first floor and poked around in the lock with the key, a little distracted by the newspaper as you were searching the headlines for anything concerning. There was another report about a skinned man found hanging upside down from a church tower. Unbelievable. At times like this and there was a maniac running around, killing people in the most grotesque way for fun.
“I’m home!” You called into the dimly lit hallway, knowing your father was sitting in his usual spot in the living room.
After dropping your purse next to the wardrobe, toeing out of the white pumps, shrugging off the coat, and hanging it on the coat rack, you walked through the corridor and past five doors. The ones leading to the bathroom and the kitchen were open as always, just like the door of Emil’s bedroom. Although it hadn’t been inhabited for a few months now, you would always leave it open after cleaning. It was false reassurance, but that way it seemed as if he was still home.
“How was your day?” Your father asked gruffly from his spot on the wing chair, the morning newspaper still in his hand before it got replaced by the evening issue you handed to him with a kiss to his temple.
 “It was…”
Screams.
Blood.
Wails of a newborn.
A cold body.
“…long.”
“Mhm.” Your father hummed, his eyes scanning the front page before turning it. “Hah! Sightings of another black cloud of smoke and the authorities tell the public another farmhouse burned down. Do they think we are stupid? Unbelievable these people! Think they will get away with it, hiding it from the public eye, and no one would notice!”
You weren’t entirely sure if he had even listened to you, but you didn’t care. You weren’t very eager to start a conversation with him anyway.
“I’m in my room. Call me if you need anything, okay?”
Though you didn’t expect a response, you waited a few seconds — maybe today he would ask if his son had finally sent a letter — before you turned around to retreat to your room.
Since your father had lost his legs in a bomb attack at a munitions factory where he had worked during the Great War, he had changed. A lot. Before he was quite a gentle and jovial man who worked hard and never shied away to show how much he loved his family. Nowadays he was resentful and bitter towards everything happening around him.
It was exhausting, not only listening to his complaints day in and day out but also being nothing more than a maid and caregiver to him. You were the sole breadwinner in this house. You worked yourself to the bone in a business that was equally about life and death but gave you more grief than joy. At least it made the medical care of your father a little easier. The surgery, the medicine, and the wheelchair would have cost you a fortune.
When you would get off work, more would await you at home. Taking care of the household was your responsibility for nine years now since your father wasn’t capable of doing it anymore. After the first week of dusting and sweeping, washing the dirty laundry and ironing the clean ones, going grocery shopping and cooking as well as taking care of your father like washing him, helping him get to the toilet and such, you cried yourself to sleep with the thought of quitting and running away.
But you didn’t.
You were miserable, yes, but you stayed. You stayed with the hope of a better life in the future. Maybe you will be married to a nice man in a few years like your girlfriends already were. You had experience with men, sure, but none of them you would consider fit to be your husband.
In your bedroom, you quickly got rid of your uniform until you were only in your undergarments, a baby-blue silk panty that flowed around your mid-thighs and an uplift brassiere of the same fabric and color, both with a lacy hemstitched design. You were about to throw the white and grey-blue dress to your other dirty clothes when you noticed red speckles on the left sleeve.
Yes, the day had been long, too long for your taste, and when your shift did end, you felt hollow once more. You could still see her in that bed, screaming and crying.
Watching her, you had wondered if you would ever end up like her.
You shifted in your place, second-guessing, before you finally turned and looked at your reflection in the mirror that occupied one corner of your bedroom. You hesitantly lifted your hands and placed them on your belly.
No. Your job showed you women struggle and in pain every day. You would never do that to yourself. Being a mother was not worth the probability of taking your last breath during labor, giving your own life while granting another to your child.
Today was another reminder of that.
The girl in the delivery room, Johanna, was sweet and lively. You met her occasionally on a monthly check-up when you assisted the doctor who took her into his care. She would tell you about her and her husband trying for this baby for years and how excited she was.
You bit the inside of your cheek when tears once again started to well up in your eyes when you thought of how helpless you had felt when you stood in that room. Your colleague, an older and more experienced woman, was holding the crying newborn in her arms. The doctor was doing his all to save the unsavable while Johanna’s body got colder as the dark red spot grew bigger on the white linen of the bed.
Today had shown you once again that you would never let something like that happen to you.
“You have to incise into her abdomen.”
Not ever.
“No!”
Not in a million years.
“No, Mi’ytiar… you have to, you have to.”
You would never put someone else’s life before yours, not even the one of your never-going-to-happen baby.
“Save our baby. Forget me… ju-just save our son… please.”
Sighing, you got ready for bed. You were far too tired this evening to get anything done. The laundry had to wait until tomorrow and your father probably already had eaten, so there was no need to get to the store. For now, you needed to stop thinking.
A whole week passed and you had followed your everyday routine like every other day. Occasionally, when you walked past the room where Johanna had delivered her baby and made her husband a widower, you paused and stared. Instead of the freshly made bed and the stark white linen, you saw her, dying as she bled out. You saw the doctor, yourself by his side and the nurse holding the baby at the foot of the bed.
You jumped when you felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned to see said nurse smiling pitiful at you.
“You are still there, right?” She asked softly, her eyes scanning your face.
You swallowed and nodded. “It’s like that every time I come here. I don’t know why. She’s not the first I watched dying during childbirth.”
The elderly woman patted your cheek and guided you away from the delivery room by the crook of your arm, pulling you away from the sorrowful abyss before you could drown any deeper in it.
“You liked her, that’s why.” She started, “I had a Johanna, too. A long, long time ago. Although she was a lot younger, she was just as excited to be a mother. Poor thing died just like her baby.”
You gasped and now it was you who looked with pity at her. “Why?”
“The baby was stuck.” The older nurse sighed, “She pushed and pushed and tore. By the time the doctor started to cut her open, she died of internal bleeding.” She had to clear her throat before she continued, “The baby died with her. A little boy. He got himself tangled up in the umbilical cord.”
You turned your gaze from her face down to the ground and watched your feet walk an unknown route. Swallowing down your tears, you forced yourself to concentrate on not stumbling over your own feet.
You did like Johanna. You had empathized with her, even though children would never be part of your life. She had just wanted a baby, a part of her and the man she loved united in one body, and all that she got was death. She hadn’t deserved it. At least the thought that she might be together with her baby in heaven now thanks to her belief in God soothed your heart a little.
“Go home, (Y/N).” The elderly nurse interrupted your train of thought.
Looking up, you saw her holding up your purse and coat. Apparently, she had led you to the lounge where the doctors and nurses spent their lunchtime.
“But I still have six hours to go.” You tried to argue, but bit down your lower lip when she shook her head.
“If someone should ask for you, I will tell them you didn’t feel well and that I sent you home. There are certain benefits as head nurse.” She winked at you, pushed your belongings into your hands, and shooed you in the direction of the exit.
“I promise I will feel better tomorrow.” You called over your shoulder and waved at her, giving her one last smile before you shrugged on your coat and left.
Thirty-two minutes later, you got off the bus and turned around the corner into your street, your purse dangling back and forth on your wrist. With your extra five hours, maybe you could finally start that book on your bedside table if your dad wouldn’t find any reason to turn your attention to him.
Feeling slightly more cheerful, you walked a little faster, already searching for the key. Like always, you checked the mailbox — nothing again — before you hopped up the one flight of stairs to your apartment, the sound of your heels on the wood filling the otherwise silent staircase.
The noise seemed to attract the woman living across from you because you barely reached the top of the stairs when she ripped her door open and stared at you with wide eyes.
You paused and looked at her in concern. “Mrs. Walter? Is everything okay?” You asked and carefully inched closer to her.
For several moments, you didn’t get an answer. Only when you opened your mouth to ask her again, she slowly lifted her trembling arm and pointed past you at something you could not see.
Strange. The only thing back there was your apartment door, so…
The slamming of Mrs. Walter's door barely reached your ears when you turned around. All you could hear was eerie silence, not Mrs. Walter quickly putting her distance between her and the door, not the dog barking from above you that got awakened by the slamming door, not the traffic noises outside.
The door that you diligently locked every morning before you got to work and unlocked every evening when you returned home hung on its hinges. In quick strides, you reached it and ripped off the note that was nailed into the wood under the peephole. Your eyes scanned over the words as you pushed the door open and entered the apartment.
A search was carried out here due to a tip-off of a conspiracy against the country and its people. All residents are requested to report immediately...
Tears clouded your view and made it impossible to make out the rest of the words. But there was no need to. You already knew what you needed to know. Your father was dead, no questions asked, no evidence to prove that he was innocent or guilty, no interference by the judiciary. He had dug his own grave since he started to badmouth and criticize the current sins committed by the government.
You slowly navigated your way through your destroyed home, your hands supporting yourself against the wall, careful to not get caught in something with your pumps. You had to duck under the big shelf close to the entrance of the living room. It was tilted to the side so that the upper part was now leaning against the other side of the wall. Everything that had ever been placed onto it — pictures, plants, certificates, and other little knick-knacks — was now scattered on the floor.
It got even worse in the living room. Everything had been turned upside down. Your father’s chair was thrown to the side just like the couch and the coffee table. The books from the huge bookshelf that covered the length of the smallest wall in here were pulled out and tossed on the floor, pages ripped out and strewn on the floor. Pictures were taken from the walls and the glass crunched as you stepped over them. Dirt was covering the floor as if someone had been digging in the soil of the potted plants. The carpet was overturned, partly thrown onto the couch, and revealed the wooden floor it usually covered.
Your living room had been thoroughly searched and you doubted the rest of your home looked any different.
In a daze, you carelessly let your purse drop to the floor and shuffled to your bedroom. Opening the door, you were greeted with a view you had expected — your bed was tilted to the side, clothes from your closet were now scattered on the floor, and your mirror was lying face down on the floor.
When you saw the pictures of you and your family carelessly thrown into the corner, you couldn’t hold the sob in any longer. You sank to your knees, curled into a ball, and cried to your heart’s content with your eyes squeezed shut.
You lost your mother at a young age, lost your father for the first time after his accident, lost your brother to the country, and now lost your father for the second and final time. Now you were wholly and utterly alone. Not for long, though. If you didn’t come forward and turned yourself in to a possible fair trial in the next sixteen hours, you would be taken just like your father and die the same way he did.
Your breakdown had been apparently so nerve-wracking and tiring that when you opened your eyes, it was dark inside your room and outside your window. Groggily, you propped yourself up and looked around, disappointedly ascertain that you hadn’t been dreaming at all. Your eyes scanned your room, still a little out of it, until you spotted your clock on the wall, surprisingly intact. 9:24 PM. Now you had less than ten hours left.
How would you spend your last ten hours in freedom? You didn’t know, but you for sure wouldn’t do it in here. You needed to leave.
As quick as you could you switched your nurse uniform to a skirt and your favorite blouse, fixed your make-up and your hair to look less like a mess and more like the respectable woman you usually were, and left the apartment after putting on your shoes, coat and grabbed your purse. At first, you strolled around with no real destination in mind, but the darker it got the higher the risk of being stopped by a patrolling soldier.
You had enough money with you to occupy yourself with a few drinks, so why not enjoy yourself, let a little loose. You never really got the chance to try it out. Your job unironically prevented you from unnecessarily damaging your liver and you had the responsibility to take care of your family. Your girlfriends always invited you on girl’s night, but sadly you had to decline almost every time, be it your father or another night shift forced upon you. They had another planned on the weekend in a few days, the first one in a very long time you would have had time for. Not anymore. When they would sit around a table and share the newest gossip, you had already started to rot away in a mass grave.
You entered the first, non-shady-looking bar and plopped down on one of the bar stools on the right. When the bartender finally took notice of you, all he needed to do was to take in your gloomy figure pitifully slumped in your seat to grab a glass and fill it with a brown liquid. No words were spoken — you didn’t feel like it and he noticed that — as you grabbed the glass, tossed the liquor back, and placed the now empty glass back down. The alcohol, whatever it was, burned like hell and you couldn’t help but cough, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. The bartender meanwhile had wordlessly filled your glass again and without any hesitation, you emptied that one too.
You spend almost four hours like that. Losing count after your sixth shot, your head started to feel funny, like the world around you was spinning too fast. You mused what your life would have been like if your mother hadn’t died when you were just nine years old, if your father hadn’t lost his legs when you were seventeen, if your brother had chosen a normal job at your current age. You could have grown up like any normal girl, could have joined your friends more often to hang out, could have started going on dates again after your last boyfriend dumped you for neglecting him.
And what about your future? What about the man you wanted to marry in a few years? Every day you daydreamed of someone who would just sweep you away in his arms and take you far, far away from here. There had to be a place somewhere where you could live your life in peace without a brewing war and the constant fear of death. You waited for someone who would make your life easier than it currently was, who would take the weight from your shoulders and not add some more on them every single day. Someone who loved you passionately and would spoil you after nine years of labor where you worked yourself to the bone. Someone who would take charge and let you rest when you needed it. Someone who was the other half of your soul that hopelessly awaited to be rejoined with its counterpart.
When you reached out to your glass for the nth time, a hand softly clasped your wrist. Looking up, you saw the bartender giving you the same pitiful look you had received for God knows how often today, from your colleague at the hospital to some of the other patrons who entered and left the bar during the last few hours.
“I think you should get home.” He said firmly and pulled his hand away.
No longer being hindered, you lifted the glass up to your lips and emptied it in one go. “I no longer have a home.” You dully answered, your speech a little slurred.
“We close in a few minutes.” He tried another route, anything to get you to stop drinking.
He may not be interested in what personal business you have to drink yourself under the table, but even he wouldn’t let a young woman like you do that to herself.
“Fine.” You mumbled, grabbed your purse, and searched for the money that was stored somewhere in there. You hummed when you finally found it and without looking at it, you dropped it down on the counter. “Here.”
You held onto the sleek surface of the bar to lift yourself up and from your seat, supporting your whole weight with one hand while you needed several attempts to grab your coat. Not bothering to put it on, you turned to leave and even you were surprised that you could still walk in a (more or less) straight line.
“Hey, you paid too much!” The bartender called from behind you.
Not bothering to stop or turn around, you simply proclaimed, “Keep it. Where I go I won't need it.” and pushed the entrance door open.
Outside, you tilted your head up, closed your eyes, and took a deep breath of the cool night air. It instantly freshened you up and cleared your mind a little. Looking left and right along the sidewalk, you decided to take the left and began strolling wherever it was taking you, once again with no actual destination in mind. You had no idea what time it was, but you guessed you had around five or six hours left. If you’re lucky and didn’t get held up by some patrols, you could visit the park one last time where your parents, Emil and you would hold a picnic every summer when you were younger. It would only take you ten minutes on foot. It wouldn’t hurt to visit the place that held so many good childhood memories and bask in them in your final hours.
You were walking for mere two minutes when you heard a whistle from your right. Halting your steps, you turned your head to the side and looked over to the source. There, on the other side of the street, were two men sitting on a bench and two standing around them. One was holding a beer bottle while the others were smoking their cigarettes.
“Hey, pretty lady.” The one with the beer bottle called over to you and lifted it to toast to you.
You quickly snapped your head back forward and continued on your way, your strides bigger and faster to create as much distance between you and them as possible.
When you thought you were safe, you felt a hand clasping your wrist whose owner pulled you back and against his strong chest.
“Hey, hey, hey.” The voice of the man with the beer bottle breathed against your ear, sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine. “Don’t be shy. We were just celebrating my friend’s promotion.” To your horror, he put his hands on your hips and turned you both to his three companions who had seemingly followed him, all of them wearing leering grins. “Why don’t you join us, hm? We could need a little entertainment.” He murmured against your neck, his breath reeking of alcohol.
Before he could place his lips anywhere close to your skin, you struggled out of his grip and stumbled a few steps away from him. “I-I’m sorry, but I need to go home. I’m already late.”
The man who seemed to be the leader of the bunch stepped closer to you, smirking when you accidentally walked right into one of his friends. The guy immediately held you against him, keeping you in place.
“I think you could spare a couple of minutes.” The leader said firmly and reached for your blouse.
Fear seemed to be a great way to quickly sober one up because the next thing you did was stomp down on the foot of the man that was holding you, your heel hitting his toe perfectly, causing him to let you go with a cry in pain and a curse. Next, you rammed your knee into the crotch of the man in front of you and when his body doubled over, you pushed him to the side and bolted down the sidewalk.
Not daring to look back, you sprinted as fast as you could, but the alcohol made it hard to keep balance, not to mention the nausea that bubbled up in your stomach. But you ignored it and tried to keep it down when you heard their calls from behind you, coming closer and closer.
This was not how you wanted to spend your last night, this was not how you imagined it. Tears clouded your view and you narrowly escaped the grabby hand of whatever guy that was closest to you when you ducked down and sharply took a left turn into an alley.
Unbeknownst to you, you were being watched.
The next thing you felt was hard concrete as you fell forward when a heavy weight collided with your back. You cried out in pain when you hit your head, then hysterically screamed in panic when you felt hands on your skirt and you started kicking around, not caring if you hit something or not. You heard a grunt when your heel finally made contact with the shoulder of one of them, but you had barely time to bask in your little victory when a punch to your face almost knocked you out cold. Your body went instantly slack, a long-winded groan leaving your mouth.
“Move your ass and hold her down.” The voice of the leader sounded from somewhere above you. “And turn her around. I like to watch their face when they give up.”
Hands turned you on your back as your screams and cries accompanied your attempts to fight their hands off.
“No… please no.” You begged as your wrists were pinned above your head by a pair of rough hands. “No!” You screamed louder, in a high-pitched, panicking voice when your blouse was ripped open, your brassiere following suit, and your chest got groped by a calloused hand.
You squeezed your eyes shut when you felt an eager mouth around your nipple, harshly sucking on it, while your breasts were still in a painfully hard grasp. You tried to gather your last strength, the drinks earlier and then the hit to your head from the fall tempted you to just fall unconscious, but you bucked your body up in hopes you could throw whoever was above you off of you.
Only you couldn’t move. Someone was straddling your thighs, hindering you from moving.
You finally forced yourself to open your eyes and the blurry image of the leader pushing up your skirt presented itself in front of you.
“Stop, please! Help!” You started screaming again, causing the leader to sigh in annoyance.
“Could you please shut her up, for fuck’s sake? I’m trying to enjoy myself here.” He growled at the guy who was holding your hands down, his patience growing thinner with every passing moment he wasn’t able to force himself inside you. “When I’m done with her, you get what’s left of her.”
“No, no, no, no...” You wailed when you heard the clinking of his belt and a zipper being opened, but you soon got silenced when a palm pressed down on your mouth.
Rather than keep watching him, you closed your eyes in defeat, now only feeling how he moved closer to your crotch, his fingers pushing your underwear aside, and positioned himself against your entrance.
A dull thud behind your attackers stilled them for a moment, but a raging roar got them to whip around. You kept your eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to see whatever feral animal was going to maul you and those men.
A scream, something wet splashing on you and something, someone, heavy landing on top of you got you to finally open your eyes again. You stared right into a gaping hole where the head of a person normally should be. Maybe it was the shock of almost ending up left on the ground in this alley, covered in bruises, blood and bodily fluids after they were done with you, that kept you from screaming.
In a daze, you pushed the corpse off of you, and looked down at your body. It was covered in blood, parts of a splattered brain, and white fragments that had been the skull of the leader of the group. His head had bursted into pieces. No animal could have done that and no human either. There was no weapon on earth with that much destructive power, so what…
With slow eyes, you looked up from your soiled legs. The guy now lying dead next to you had been obscuring the view of a large creature standing no more than three meters across from you.
Whatever it was, it seemed livid. Its body was heaving with wrathful breaths and its long fingers were twitching, clenching into fists before relaxing them again. The massive form of it was hidden by darkness and you could barely make out its silhouette.
It felt like an eternity with you just staring at the creature and it (probably) staring right back. The other assaulters, two of whom had fallen to the ground in shock with the sudden attack on their leader, hadn’t dared to move a muscle. Maybe they were in a trance just as you were, not for the same reason of course.
“H-Hey!” The fourth guy squeaked, breaking the tension that seemed to suffocate the whole alley. “Wha-“
In a practiced, seemingly effortless movement, the creature whipped out its arm, and something silvery shot out of the darkness. It wrapped around the throat of the man, choking him and sending him to his knees. He was clawing his neck and tried to remove what seemed to be a whip made out of sleek silver and grey material. 
You watched him as he desperately tried to free himself and blood started to flow from where the whip was wrapped around his neck down to his shirt, turning the light blue fabric deep red. Your eyes then traveled along the bladed chain, you now noticed, to the other end of it, and found the large creature moving towards you.
If you would have been able to make a sound, you would have, but you were still too out of it that no noise escaped your bloody lips when you were finally able to distinguish your savior. 
It was indeed huge, a massive body that was dwarfing any human being you could think of. Its appearance was bizarre. Its feet and calves up to its knees were in unusual boots, made out of metal instead of leather and an interesting design. You wondered if it was the skin of the creature, or if it was wearing a net-like cloth that was visible on every body part that wasn’t hidden beneath armor like the chest plate that bleed over into a full sleeve of its arm. It was covering the left side of its chest, but not enough to conceal a rather fit upper body. You found yourself staring a lot longer at the well-defined, almost sculpted abs of it. It was no doubt a male.
As you were eyeing the creature up, he yanked on the whip. You were only aware of a dull thud when the bladed chain cut off the head of the man who had been in its hold. 
You didn’t register when more blood sprinkled on you as you were too busy trying to imagine a face underneath that strange mask. With his green, brownish, and beige reptilian skin, the long black tendrils sprouting from the head, the long claws, and the animalistic posture, he was without a doubt not human. 
An arm wrapping around your throat from behind, preventing you from breathing evenly, brought you back to reality. You immediately put up a fight, scratching it and pulling on the arm in hopes he would let go.
It was one of the attackers that had fallen to the ground when the creature had appeared. He must have scrambled over to you when his last companion was foolishly enough to run up to the murderous beast, trying to do something quite laughable, only to be impaled by a spear and was now hanging on the wall to the right like he was a portrait above a chimney, the spear rammed through the brick of the apartment building.
The idiot behind you thought the creature would let him go if he was holding you hostage as if he wasn’t going to kill the both of you just like his buddies. So foolish, you internally sighed.
“S-S-Stop! I‘m warning you!” He screamed at the towering figure which was closing in on you. “I will… I will kill her!”
The creature stopped a few steps away from you and reached behind his back. Quicker than your eyes could keep up, his hand shot forward and he threw something of the size of an orange at the man.
Yelling, the man loosened his grip, his instincts kicking in to fight against whatever was sticking to his forehead. In his struggle, he fell on his back and started rolling around on the floor when the little device made a strange wiring noise. His body went stock still when he was engulfed in a net, restraining him. Then the man screamed bloody murder when the wiring noise grew louder and the device pulled the net tighter around him.
You turned to him, only to see the strings cutting into his skin, drawing blood, until only pieces of his body were left of him, leaving him unidentifiable to whoever would find him and his friends.
Now it was only you in that alley. You, the beast that saved you and the bloody massacre turning the place into an image of horror.
You were going to get sick if you stared at what had been a living and breathing human once any longer. Rather than wanting to face the creature when it was going to kill you, you turned back around and then startled back. Said beast was crouching in front of you, the head cocked to the side.
He reached out a clawed hand and you closed your eyes, preparing yourself for whatever gruesome death he had planned for you. You thought back to everything you had achieved in your life, every person that was still dear to you, said goodbye to every place you loved to visit, to the movie you had wanted to watch in a week with a friend, to the unread book on your bedside table and every dream you had wanted fulfill — you had actually planned to do that in a few hours. At least he was going to give you a quick death and not whatever the authorities had done to your father.
Something poked your cheek.
Your eyes snapped open and you were met with a closer view of the strange mask covering the creature‘s face. His hand was outstretched and a finger was prodding your skin. A strange noise was coming from behind the mask, something you could only describe as a rumbling purr. 
You stayed still, afraid if you would only move a muscle it would set the creature off, and let him drag his clawed finger up to your temple where a trail of blood had started to run from the wound you got from the fall. You hissed in pain when the pad of his thumb stroked — probably unintentionally hard — over your lower lip, the rough skin touching where it was busted. He pulled its thumb away only to replace it with the back of his pointer and middle finger to caress your jaw and down to your throat. The touch caused you to swallow which he most likely could feel. Only when you felt the scaly sensation on your skin dip too deep, too far beneath the ripped remains of your blouse, you gripped his wrist.
The creature’s head snapped up where it had followed his exploration. You flinched back at the sudden movement and quickly loosened your hold on his wrist, pulling it away like you had burnt yourself.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered, your voice hoarse.
What if you had just signed your death? What if you touching him like that had triggered him? What if he thought you were a threat now? What if he thought of it as highly offensive? What if he was going to kill you now? What if-
A low thump caused you to flinch when he hit the left side of his chest with his right fist. With parted lips, you looked from his fist up to his masked face and then back again, confused, both at the gesture and the lack of aggression towards you. Almost as if he could understand the look on your face, he repeated the action with a little more determination after he inched closer to you. You were more focused on his sudden closeness, daring not to move back, but you hastily turned your gaze down to his fist. It was a little hard to concentrate on what he was trying to tell you after the vast change of demeanor — from murdering in cold blood to trying to… communicate with you?
“You?” You tried hesitantly.
It really was your best guess on what he could mean.
A soft growl reached your ears from underneath his mask, making you tense up but relaxed in relief the second his attention turned to his forearm. You watched in curiosity as his clawed pointer finger ghosted over the armor-like wristband that started flashing in a bright red and made strange beeping noises like when a caller on the other line hung up before you could. Your mouth opened without you even noticing. You had never seen something like it, probably no one ever had. How was it functioning without cables like your telephone and radio did?
“Are you telling me you are married?”
You jumped back a little when a male voice chimed from his wristband.
“To a cup of tea, I will never say no.”
“I can’t believe you put the jar in the oven!”
You looked at him in astonishment as more voices sounded from his forearm. Human voices.
He kept repeating the same three sentences, but they seemed to get shorter with every replay.
“-telling me you are… telling me… me.”
“-a cup of tea… tea.”
“-you put the jar in the… you put the jar… the jar… jar.”
He seemed to be satisfied as he let out a deep, low-pitched chirp before he played the cut and put together word snippets to you, his head facing you now.
“Me-tea-jar.” He hit his chest once again before playing the word again. “Me-tea-jar.”
“Meetja?” You tried the word, tried how it felt on your tongue.
He let out a deep grumble before he played the same word again and leaned even closer to you.
“Me-tea-jar.”
“M-Meetiar. Mi’ytiar.”
With his head slightly cocked to the side, he tilted it forward in a one-movement nod as if to say, “Now you got it.” and his fist hit his chest one last time.
“You. Mi’ytiar. T-That’s your name?” You asked and hoped you put the puzzle pieces together correctly.
Another nod before he pointed at you.
“Oh.” You softly said, shifted slightly your hips, and nervously placed a hand on your own chest. “(Y/N). I’m (Y/N).”
“(Y/N).” Your voice sounded from his forearm when he touched his wristband. “(Y/N).”
You couldn’t help the small smile and you nodded. “Yes. (Y/N).”
The creature — Mi’ytiar — lowly grumbled in appreciation and you breathed out the air you had been holding in your lungs in a laugh. You couldn’t believe you talked, more or less, to something that undoubtedly didn’t belong on earth while you were surrounded by death after being spared from something that would have scarred you for life just because you had been out drinking to have one last night in freedom until you would follow your father in an early grave. Your life really had taken a strange turn in just a few hours.
“What are you?” You asked him and tilted your head to the side.
“Hunter.” He communicated with the help of his wristband.
“Where do you come from?”
“Sky.”
“Sky.” You repeated the child’s voice and looked up.
So he came from the sky. You wondered if he meant the clouds, or maybe the moon. It could be the stars for all you knew. Was he the only one living there, or were there more? Maybe one like him lived on each star the night sky had to offer.
As you were looking up in thought, Mi’ytiar took his time to admire you. You were, what you humans would use, adorable. He didn’t hunt humans very often as they weren’t much of a challenge, but sometimes he would visit earth out of curiosity. Your kind was interesting and his ancestors had been quite fond of them when they used them to breed their prey centuries ago. Humans have made a continuous development from then to now, so it was fascinating to watch.
Like he watched you now. He admired your wide eyes, the curve of your nose, and your rosy cheeks that displayed the dried tear streaks of panic and fear. He admired the shape of your lips and the cut that had caused you pain when he touched it. He admired your shiny hair that had once been pulled up in a neat bun but was now hanging loosely and messily around your face, framing it like it was a piece of art. He admired your small, shaking hands that were desperately holding the ripped-open blouse together, protecting your modesty, and the naked skin of your trembling shoulders when the fabric had slipped down to your biceps. You had been so incredibly warm and soft when he had touched what you were hiding now.
A quiet hiss got you to look back at him and you watched with uncertainty as his fingers first pulled on the one tube that was connected to his mask and then the other before he removed it anxiously slow. You mentally prepared yourself for the most horrific sight of your life, but when the top half of his face was laid bare, you sucked in a breath. It wasn’t the foreign shape of his head, the texture of his skin, or the spiky triangle-shaped bumps that circled the sides and the back of his head like a crown, clearly dividing where the roots of his hair ended and his face started. It was his eyes, though an abnormal orange, that were salient and captivating you. They didn’t look like what your wildest fantasies had to offer, but somewhat seemed almost human — a black pupil surrounded by an orange iris. And not just any orange. It was the kind of orange that stretched across the sky at every sunrise and sunset. The only difference you spotted from your own eyes was that he had a black sclera instead of a white one.
You would have gotten lost in them if he hadn’t removed the mask fully so his lower face was showing too. You wouldn’t exactly describe it as terrifying, but the sight of his mouth was, to say it simply, unnerving. It was hidden behind four tusks that represented his mandibles. You were fascinated when he suddenly made a clicking noise but were taken aback when he extended the fleshy texture to reveal two rows of teeth. It was like he had two jaws, one when the mandibles were retracted to his face and one when they were extended and showed his actual mouth. His upper jaw held three teeth with two larger fangs on each side, his lower jaw held the same amount only were they a little thinner, so his fangs wouldn’t hinder his mouth from closing.
Even after the initial shock subsided, you wouldn’t exactly use the word pretty, but there was something about him. Thrilling and particular, astounding and intriguing, but also alluring.
The longer you looked at him, at Mi’ytiar, the more accustomed you got to his appearance.
Another clicking sound reached your ears and you stopped mapping his features with your eyes, only now realizing how he looked down at you with his head tilted to the side. When you mumbled his name, almost as if it took all your courage, he straightened up and his eyes snapped to your hand that had loosened its grip on your blouse. He followed the movement of it getting closer to his face and when you turned your hand so your palm was facing him, his own hand reacted fast and grabbed your delicate wrist.
Bad idea, real bad idea, you thought. He wasn’t exactly hurting you, but his grip wasn’t exactly soft.
Instead of tugging against his hold in an attempt to free yourself that would obliviously fail, you let your arm go slack. Instead of panicking, you remained calm. Instead of screaming at him to let you go, you kept your mouth shut and waited for his next move. If you triggered him in any way, he would surely kill you.
Mi’ytiar, on the other hand, was amazed with you, in awe. He wouldn’t be the first Yautja to be enthralled with a human in this kind of way, sure, but he hadn’t expected to be one of them one day. You were extraordinary in the way you looked at him, didn’t mind the proximity he had put you in, and apparently seemed to seek for it.
Contrary to what you believed, he pulled your hand closer to his face by the wrist, causing you to move from your side-sit on the floor to get on your knees. Your lips parted in surprise when he pulled his mandibles in and he himself brought your hand up to his cheek.
The sensation underneath your touch was unusual and new. His cheek wasn’t like that of a human when you would press the fat until you could feel the jaw bone. It was springy, considering it was only a fleshy layer that covered his mouth. You moved your hand down to his outer jaw which consisted of his mandible and followed the length of it with your palm. You could feel the firm muscle and bone and gave it a gentle, experimental squeeze. Almost automatically he made a soft purring noise like that one of a cat and you blushed at the possibility that he was enjoying the caress.
You, of course, had no idea that you were touching a highly sensitive part of his anatomy and would be alive to tell the tale afterward.
Just as you were curious about him, he was eager to explore you as well. Carefully, he reached out and through the ripped-open front of your blouse. Seconds later his palm made contact with your stomach and he could feel how you tensed up. He looked up into your eyes, but when he found nothing that indicated that you despised his touch, his hand ran along to your waist and down to your hip, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your belly. It was strange how you could feel his thumb near your navel and at the same time his other fingers on your lower back, taking the width of your hip like it was nothing.
The both of you were too busy in your explorations that you had grown ignorant to your surroundings, so when a scream filled the previously quiet alley, you grabbed his extended arm, not to push it away but to hold onto it in panic, while Mi’ytiar whirled his head around to the two outlines standing near the street at the end of the alley. Your body was hidden by his massive one, so it looked like a monster was kneeling among his freshly killed victims, basking in the glory of his crime.
Mi’ytiar’s mandibles flared and the guttural roar that left his lungs made you cling to him in fear. Not of him, but the consequences that you would have to face if those who had stumbled upon this scene without context would call for the patrolling soldiers. You heard more screams and hastily retreating footsteps as the couple ran as if their lives depended on it.
Large hands grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you up on his shoulder, causing you to squeal in surprise, and you had barely time to hold onto him before he started climbing up the metal scaffolding of the balconies of the apartment building, jumping up and landing on the roof. With an arm secure around your waist, he jumped and ran further and further away.
And you let him.
2024, Yautja Prime
“What you smiling for?”
And all of a sudden, those purred words were taking you from your past life to your current one. You hadn’t even noticed you had stopped drawing random figures and forms on Mi’tyiar’s naked chest. At some point, you had started daydreaming with that far-away look in your eyes and a smile slowly making its way on your lips as you were lying on him, between his legs.
“Just thought of the night we met.” You drawled lazily and rubbed your cheek against his reptilian-like skin. “My hero in shining alien amour.”
“My amour does not shine.”
Now you had to laugh. Sometimes you couldn’t help yourself when he was so bluntly clueless. Humans and their analogies were oh so confusing.
“It’s a human saying, my love.” You explained as you crossed your arms on his wide chest and rested your chin on them. “A male who saves a female from danger. A male who would sacrifice himself so the female can get away without harm.”
Mi’ytiar reached towards your face and cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek before he dragged it over your lower lip. You were dreamingly looking up at him, basking in his loving touch. You were placing your hand on his and turned your head to the side so you could pepper his palm with light kisses.
He couldn’t help his body’s reaction, he just couldn’t. He was starved of your touch.
You suddenly stopped your sweet kisses when you felt something big poking your stomach. You looked down, although you could only see how your breasts were pressed against him before you looked back up at him with a raised eyebrow.
“You are insatiable.” You smirked and hoisted yourself up after placing one last kiss between his pecs.
You straddled his midriff but left enough space between you and him so you could reach underneath your body and grab his semi-hard cock. Even at this size, you had a little trouble to fully embrace it and getting your fingertips to touch.
You hissed when you felt the familiar sting of his sharp mandibles and teeth digging into your skin. You tilted your head to the side and offered him more access. Mi’ytiar let out a feral growl when your blood finally hit his tongue. He relished in it, tasting so sweet, just like the rest of you.
Grasping your hips with both of his hands, his claws scratching your delicate skin, he pushed them down to his crotch.
He needed you again, needed to be so deep inside you, so he could see the bulge of his cock forming in your tummy. Just the thought of it made his hips snap up, barely missing your entrance, and dragging his cock through your sopping wet folds that were covered with your combined releases from your last mating moments ago. It elicited a whiny moan and a wiggle of your hips.
“Stop teasing, tanhì. Put it in.” You groaned and started rubbing yourself up and down his rock-hard cock, coating it with your mixed cum that was still leaking from your hole.
Mi’ytiar wrapped a large arm around you and started to get up, his other arm supporting himself, to manhandle you on your back to be on top. The second your hazy mind registered what he was doing, you placed both of your hands on his chest and pushed him back down. You preened when his body immediately went slack, allowing you to do as you pleased with him.
He was staring up at you with flashing eyes. You didn’t take the lead very often, preferring it to be dominated by your mate, but when you did, he was gladly giving you the power you wanted.
The first time you had tried to be on top, it had gone from steamy to ugly pretty quickly. You had been on your back when you tried to push him and switch your position, but since he had been unmovable like a rock, you had untangled yourself from him and told him to lie back. You were straddling his hips, humping his hardening cock for exactly thirty seconds before he flipped you over and on your back again. You had then mewled and tried to push him back once more, causing him to growl. For your attitude he bit roughly into your throat, hoping it would keep you submissive. You let out a cry and hit his chest with both of your fists. This time Mi’ytiar had shown you his displeasure more vocal when he slammed his flat hands next to both sides of your head and roared right into your face. Safe to say, it scared the living daylights out of you and caused you to escape his caging arms. He, of course, followed you quickly and tried to amend his outburst rather with purrs and snuggles than words.
The next time you were on top, he vehemently focused on staying seated on the edge of your nest with you on his lap as you rode him with his helping hands on your hips. His eyes strayed from the spot where his cock was disappearing inside of you, to the bulge in your stomach that grew and shrunk with every movement, to your bouncing breasts, to your pleasure-contorted face.
After that, he couldn’t get enough of you being on top.
The same was the case now as you slowly inserted his throbbing cock into your-
A wail broke the sensual atmosphere, causing the both of you to jerk your heads to the doorway connecting the room to the rest of your home. With your maternal instincts kicking in, you practically jumped up from your mate, his half-inside cock slipping from your tight heat, and run to the room where the sound was coming from.
Mi’ytiar slumped back with a displeased grunt. He loved his pup dearly, truly he did, but he hadn’t been able to mate with you for an eternity — five months, double the time the healer had advised you to keep from being intimate with each other after the pregnancy because a certain someone had been overly cautious with you — and his cock throbbed painfully at that sorrowful thought.
He got up from the nest and followed the direction you had run off to. Your five-month-old pup was sleeping alone in his room for only a short part of his life. Before that, his crib had been standing next to the nest in your room, quickly accessible and in reach should he need any sort of attention. Now he was sleeping in his big brother’s former nursery you had lovingly prepared when you had been pregnant with Akail, your first pup.
Mi’ytiar watched you standing in front of the crib in the middle of the room, your back to him, as you rocked the whiny pup in your arms. The wholesome thoughts of his beautiful mate taking such good care of his youngling quickly turned into an animalistic need to breed you once more when his eyes trailed over your curves that had gotten bigger after bearing his second son. They fixed on your legs where trails of semen were running down your skin from between your inner thighs.
He was faster by your side than you would expect from a being of his size. He pressed his bare body against your own, hands on your hips pulling you closer, his cock digging into your back. Mi’ytiar bent down to snuggle his face into the crook of your neck, purring lowly.
“He was just hungry.” You whispered as you watched your pup falling back to sleep.
Bending over, you placed your little one back into his crib, careful not to disturb him. You had to bite your lip when you felt Mi’ytiar pull you back against his crotch to rub himself against your ass. All you needed to do was push your ass back into him for him to grab you, throw you over his shoulder and turn to leave your son’s nursery.
Giggling, you looked back to the pup’s crib and whispered, “Dream of the stars, my little Toyah.” before you got carried back to your nest.
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Masterlist: here
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lexirosewrites · 1 month
Text
it’s my two year Steddie-versary today?!!!
(which means I’m gonna ramble emotionally for a little bit)💛
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I’m not really sure how to fully describe the last two years of my life and my involvement in the steddie fandom, but I’ll try!
I remember watching season four of ST and really liking Eddie, thinking he was so cool. I’d always liked Steve, but putting them together was a whole different story. And then I recall seeing fanart, finding a couple fics here and there.
I wasn’t aware how deep I’d gotten until I was drafting a fic of my own, eager to join the fun any way that I could. It had been years since I’d written anything of my own, but I was lonely and bored enough to try.
I drafted my first fic “All Through The Night” for a month.
I wrote it. Rewrote it. Edited it. Doubted whether it should stay in the drafts. Finally, I just hit post.
From there, it kept going. I’d write a few non-omegaverse fics based on TikTok prompts. Then, I’d end up delving into the omegaverse trope in a way I never had before.
I started to remember how much I enjoyed writing and I found a community that was kind to me. I made friends in the AO3 comments of all places!
It was a few months before I joined ST twitter in December of 2022, but I was encouraged to hang out and make more friends.
(I don’t need to rehash the bad parts of my experience because I think we’re all pretty aware of what happened. But I don’t want those things to define me or spoil all the good that’s come from this fandom either. Bullies don’t get to take this from me.
I wasn’t super active on Tumblr prior to my Twitter leave because I didn’t really understand the app😅 we figured it out eventually and I am so grateful to have been welcomed here when I was feeling so low.)
I figured out a lot about myself in this fandom! I identified as a cis, bi-questioning woman when I started writing!! That’s insane to me now!
But I found a place to explore and meet other queer people and ask questions that I would’ve never asked!
I was leading worship at a mega church when I posted my first fic. I was freshly separated from my ex-husband and still hurting immensely. I was working through a pandemic as a nurse and hating my life. I didn’t have much that brought me joy anymore.
This silly gay ship probably saved my life…
And I know I’ve been semi-MIA as far as posting to AO3 the last several months, but I have no intentions of leaving this fandom anytime soon. I will not abandon my fics or disappear. I just need a little bit of a break because I burnt myself out on writing for a year and a half!
God this post went way too long. Oops.
Okay! In summary! Today is my two year Steddie-versary and I love you all!!! I’m grateful for the friends I’ve made and the support I’ve had to share my stories.
(also tbh I cannot believe I tricked this many of you into reading mpreg)
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Text
Indulgence
Pairing: Halsin x GN!Reader
Rating: T
Warnings: No spicy moments, but implied horny Halsin.
Summary: Halsin has always struggled with indulging in the more pleasurable aspects of life. However, with the shadow curse lifted and your group now on the road to Baldur's Gate, you and Halsin find time to indulge in a bit of fun and a sweet treat before retiring for the evening.
Word Count: 9.3K
an: It took me too many weeks, but I finally have the fully fleshed out story related to this poll and this little WIP! As it stands, I only have plans for this to be a oneshot, but considering I went back and forth far too many times on if I wanted to add a spicy scene to this, I might write a quick spicy follow up to this if I can find the courage to actually post something smutty.
Read on AO3 here if you prefer!
Edit: I decided to write a spicy update for this and you can read it here.
Masterlist
The night air was pleasantly warm against your skin as you stepped from the confines of your tent. You stretched your arms above your head, thoroughly exhausted from the traveling the day brought, and you wanted nothing more than to slip into your bedroll and sleep away the stiffness in your body. But a light rumble to your stomach and a tingle on the tip of your tongue for something sweet kept you awake. Your camp was mostly quiet as you strolled across the grounds from your tent to pillage through the crates of supplies, save for the sound of githyanki longsword grinding against a sharpening stone and the playful barks and hoots of your furred companions. Most of your companions had retired for the evening, either by going to their own bedrolls or simply sitting in the mouth of their respective tents and unwinding from the day. The walk from the now former shadow lands had been quite the journey, taking a handful of days to get to where you were now, and still had another day or two of walking ahead of you before you reached the town of Rivington just outside of Baldur’s Gate.
You strolled along the supply crates along the edge of camp, peeking through your rations to find something to satiate your sweet cravings. The crates were filled with plenty of cured meats and cheeses with handfuls of fresh vegetables scattered about, but not the first pastry or bit of chocolate in sight. You grumbled to yourself as you continued rummaging, but you eventually found the small jar of honey you had collated a few days prior. Your skin tingled at the memory of the few dozen bee stings you’d received as punishment for cutting away a chunk of the honeycomb, but for now it was more than worth the trouble. You slowly poured part of the jar into an empty bowl, watching as the sweet, thick substance flowed from the mouth of the jar. By the time you’d coated the bottom of your bowl, you rotated the jar just a bit to stop the stream and wiped the rim with your finger. 
You popped your forefinger into your mouth and cleaned off the bit of honey that lingered, humming in satisfaction at the first taste of the fresh honey. After the lid had been secured, you slotted the jar back in its spot and continued your search for your late night craving. You would need something of substance to eat with the honey to satisfying the gnawing in your stomach and you finally settled on two tart apples. You plucked a clean paring knife from the camp cook station and added it to your small stash of goods.
As you turned from the supply boxes to return yourself to your tent for the evening, you spotted Halsin sitting alone by the dying fire, quietly thumbing through a rather large book. He always made it a habit of sitting off to the side or just in the mouth of his tent, forever reluctant to join the rest of the group when it came time to relax. So, by sitting at the campfire, you couldn’t help but wonder if he would mind a bit of conversation before bed. But, then again, you weren’t sure. Halsin had always claimed that duty and responsibility kept him from truly enjoying down time; feeling that he should be out doing something about the issues at hand instead of sitting idly by. Ever since you plucked the bear from the clutches of the goblins, you can’t recall hardly ever seeing him actually relax or indulge in anything remotely pleasurable. With this in mind, you didn’t want to disturb the few moments of peace and self indulgence he allowed himself by disturbing him.
The stress of the grove weighed heavily on his shoulders, but not long after he left the grove to join your group you had started to see his stoic demeanor begin to bend ever so slightly. Of course the little bit of reprieve he had was short lived once you finally made it to the shadow cursed lands. His duty and sense of responsibility while there was heightened beyond belief and you couldn’t pry him from lifting the curse if you wanted to. So, the look of absolute joy and relief on his face once the curse had finally lifted was certainly a sight for your eyes. He actually seemed happy. 
Halsin was reclined by the fire with his legs stretched out in front of him and an elbow supported on an old log behind him. A heavy book resting in his lap, the thumb of his free hand lightly ran along the corners of the pages repeatedly as he read. You caught yourself staring as he flipped to the next page and used his fingers to smooth out the pages before returning them to their ministrations of the corners. You still wrestled with yourself on if you should approach him or not, truly not wanting to bother him, but also not wanting him to feel left our from the group. Eventually, you found yourself walking towards the druid and stopped a few steps from where he was seated.
“Care for some company?” You asked as you approached with your bowl of treats in hand. Halsin looked up from his book, greeting you with his usual, gentle smile. 
“Always.” He extended his hand to offer you the seat beside him, softly patting the ground. You carefully stepped over his legs as you made your way to the spot offered to you. You sat on the ground beside him, your lower back resting against the log. You crossed your legs in front of you, placing your bowl in the space between your thighs, giving yourself a suitable spot to rest for the evening until you retired back to your tent. Your leg lightly brushed against Halsin’s thigh as they crossed and you felt him shift slightly, clearing his throat as he adjusted.
“Good evening, my friend.” He said as he adjusted the opened book in his lap, his hand rested atop the pages, securely keeping the book against his thighs.
“Good evening.” You said as you gave a final wiggle to your hips so you could fully settle, “Care to indulge?” You offered him one of the two apples you had brought with you. He graciously accepted the piece of fruit, sinking his teeth into the flesh with a satisfied crunch as you showed him the bowl of honey.
“Do you want some? I know they’re not the sweetest of apples.” He shook his head as he chewed his bit of apple, holding his hand up to stop you from pressing the bowl closer to him.
“No, thank you, though,” he said after he had swallowed, “I certainly pulled enough bee stingers from you the other night that you’ve earned it all for yourself.” He gave a slight chuckle and a gentle nudge to your elbow.
“It was worth it.” You said sheepishly as you recalled having to ask Halsin for help with healing the welts and pulling the stingers from you that you had difficulty in dislodging. 
The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, simply enjoying the serenity of the evening in each others company. Halsin turned his attention back to his book as he continued to bite away at his apple and you focused on cutting yours into slices. You took the paring knife you’d brought with you and used it to cut the apple in half, making it easier to cut away at the flesh. With each piece you took off, you dropped them back into the bowl and tossed any bits of seeds or core into the fire ahead of you.
“You don’t have to sit by yourself, you know.” You said as you sliced off another chunk of apple, “I mean if you want to that’s fine, of course, but you don’t have to. You’re as much a part of this group as anyone else.” You glanced to him as you spoke, having finished your slicing and placed the knife on the ground beside you.
“I thank you for the sentiment, but truthfully I don’t feel like that’s the case.” Halsin looked up from his book once again, meeting your gaze in a way that made your skin tingle.
“Why not?” You asked as your brows knitted together, “Has someone said something?”
“Not at all,” he said calmly, “but you know as well I that I haven’t exactly been present for the more…bonding moments that others have enjoyed. I seem to have made myself an outsider. Aside from your company, of course. You’ve always gone out of your way and for that I thank you.” His voice was genuine as he spoke, which relieved any worry that there was trouble among camp members. 
“Ah, well, I guess that means you’re stuck with me around the campfire from now on.” You leaned over slightly and nudged him with your shoulder as he chuckled at your response.
“You will always be most welcome.” With a final bite he finished off his apple, tossing the core into the fire ahead of him before returning back to his previous position. He reclined against the log once again, putting his weight against one arm on the log and the other returning to rest along the book spread across his lap, his fingers absentmindedly running along the lip of the cover.
You were blissfully unaware of the hungry eyes watching your every move as you indulged in your sweet treat. Halsin’s gaze was transfixed on the movements of your wonderfully nimble fingers as you selected a slice of tart apple from your bowl and coated it with a generous amount of the honey you’d procured earlier in the day. You twirled the slice in your fingers, trying to break the sticky strings that came as you tried to scoop the thickened treat onto the fruit. Halsin was unsure if time had slowed or if it was simply his own desires fogging his mind, but watching this relatively mundane task had become almost intoxicating. 
Your attention was quickly pulled from your snack before you had a chance to bite into it, the call of your name from across camp making you pause. You still held the slice in your fingers, hovering over the bowl as you spoke to your companion about an event from earlier in the day. The honey that rested at the tip of the apple slice began to drip, slowly making its way along the fruit and onto your thumb. Halsin was sitting close enough that he could smell the sweetness and the light floral notes that came from the honey, the scent alone being enough to have his mouth watering for a taste. Although he couldn’t help but wonder at how the taste would change when mixed with the taste of your skin as he watched the honey continue to drop down the length of your arm. 
He had longed for your touch for some time now, but ever since the group had parted the shadow lands, the longing had become incessant. Unbeknownst to you, Halsin wanted more from you; more than just friendship. He wanted companionship. He wanted you. And in this moment he wanted nothing more than to clean the honey from your skin with his own tongue and kiss your dexterous fingers that had been teasing him all day. The impulsive urge to act on the idea was tempting, but given that he had yet to approach you about wanting more, he tried to push the thought from his mind. 
Realizing the sticky mess that was now running down your arm, you quickly popped the apple slice covered in what remaining honey that wasn’t dripping down your arm into your mouth. You searched the small area by the campfire for any sort of cloth to wipe your hands on, but ultimately decided to simply lick it off when you couldn’t find a suitable rag and the sticky honey was now nearing your elbow. With a turn of your head and twist of your arm, you found the large drip of honey on your arm and pressed your tongue along the sweet trail. Starting near your elbow, you slowly pulled your tongue along your inner forearm, collecting the fallen honey in the small well created by your tongue. Given just how sticky the honey was, you found yourself going over the same spots multiple times in an attempt to get every drop that had made its way down your arm.
Halsin could feel his heart pick up speed and almost threaten to beat out of his chest the more he watched you clean yourself of the honey and the grip on the book in his lap tightened with each swipe of your tongue. The tips of his pointed ears had grown warm in a flush and his throat had suddenly gone dry. Despite the growing tension and the tightening of desire growing in his muscles, he found himself simply unable to look away from you. It had been so long that he’d been able to indulge in desires of his own that he had become complacent with pushing away his wants until he had completed his duties. But now those duties had been fulfilled, with your help of course, he was now free to purse any desires he’d denied himself for so long. And the druid was dangerously close to losing any and all control over keeping these wants at bay until the proper moment.
By the time you’d made your way to your honey coated thumb, you finally picked up on the eyes that had been focused on your movements for so long. Your own gaze flicked to Halsin, whose face was a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite place, and couldn’t help but smile in embarrassment as he’d caught your blunder. What you couldn’t notice, however, was the heat rising along Halsin’s neck and the thread of tension in his chest that was threatening to break at any second. However, when you stuck the entirety of your thumb into your mouth and slowly pulled off the honey while still holding his gaze, that delicately held together thread finally snapped.
Without a word, Halsin sharply shut his book, practically flinging it from his lap, letting it drop into the dirt as he abruptly stood. Your head tilted upwards, curiously watching as his frame loomed over yours as you remained seated against your log. His legs stepped over yours as he started to leave the campsite, stomping into the ground beside you. You watched as he made off for the inner depths of the trees, walking as fast as his legs would carry him. You had half a mind to follow him, now afraid that you had done or said something to offend him, or even anger him. However, your intentions to follow him into the woods were short lived when you were quickly bombarded with a snout and beak clambering over each other to have a bite of your apples and honey.
Halsin walked quickly into the expanse of the forest, easily slipping between trees and shrubs as he tried to make it as far away from camp, and your teasingly delightful movements, as he could. He could feel a deep rumble in his throat threaten to let loose and a flutter in his heart before it turned into a steady, yet quickened pace. The memory of you oh so deliciously cleaning up the honey from your fingers was burning hot in his mind, causing heat to course through his body and settle in other areas. But laced within this arousal was also an equal amount of anger for himself. 
He wanted you more than anything he had wanted in so long that he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He was elated and almost giddy whenever you graced him with your company, although he was usually good at keeping his demeanor calm and collected. A solemn, unwavering wall he had built to control his emotions and desires while still trying to work a way out to rid Thaniel’s realm of the curse while also not drowning in the stress and strain that the grove demanded for over a century was beginning to crumble, letting a playful youth and optimism begin to break through. The cracks in the wall were caused simply by you and your kindness, your generosity, and your unwavering determination to simply do the right thing for those in need; for those like himself. Halsin wanted to take things further with you, to see if there could be more than just a friendship and a battle alliance, but he was finding that he had issues in taking the next step.
He himself was always susceptible to holding off on acting on desires until more pressing, mature tasks like the shadow curse had been dealt with, finding that he couldn’t enjoy indulging in more carnal or whimsical pleasures until the work was over. He knew you were not like that, but he still felt the same guilt whenever he even considered approaching you for something more. The Absolute was now marching towards Baldur’s Gate with an army of enthralled and tadpole infected and the threat of the Elder Brain becoming in control was ever pressing. He simply couldn’t justify indulging in his own selfish wants and pleasures when something that important was a looming threat. Halsin could wait. He would wait. But that didn’t mean that his own feelings and desires weren’t too much to handle at times. 
Halsin gritted his teeth as he walked, nose flaring in a snarl as the overwhelming heat that engulfed his body was becoming too much to control. He had gotten a decent ways away before he felt the urge become all consuming, stooping over in a hunch before erupting backwards in a flash of golden light and a burst of magic. A large cave bear landed on all fours, crushing the hard earth underneath heavy paws. The bear shook his shoulders, releasing a bit of tension before galloping deeper into the forest. Primal urges and instincts always seemed to win out in the end, no matter how hard Halsin tried to control them, and they wouldn’t be tamed easily.
It wasn’t long before the galloping bear eventually came to a stop, breathing heavily at the exertion and arousal still burning through his veins. A pristine, quiet pond stopped the bear in his tracks, a wonderfully calming spot deep in nature that could soothe and subdue the beast running rampant through the woods. Halsin took a deep breath, taking in the scent of the algae clinging to the edge of the pond and listening to the sounds nearby. Crickets chirped loudly all around, sounding off out of sync so there was almost always one singing into the night. 
Beautifully luminescent fireflies lazily bobbed around the surface of the water and high into the trees, their glow mixing with the moon that was still high in the sky; well past midnight, but still a few hours before the sun would rise. The serenity of the pond was still not enough for Halsin to be able to regain control of the beast. He stepped into the water, feeling the icy cold water beginning to finally tame the fire almost boiling in his veins. Another step in and the beast was becoming easier to control, but still needed just a bit more. 
You stepped quietly through the trees, effortlessly weaving your way through foliage and over gnarled tree roots poking up from the ground as you searched for the druid. A few hours had passed since his abrupt departure and with all of your companions now sleeping peacefully in their bedrolls, four footed ones included, with the exception of one particularly cryptic druid. Something about Halsin’s sudden urgency to leave didn’t sit well with you and after he had not yet returned, you were concerned. You knew good and well he was in no real danger and could easily handle himself, but you knew there was something gnawing at his mind and if it was something you could help alleviate, you were more than willing to miss out on a few hours sleep.
Realistically, you were walking blindly into the forest. You had no sense of where Halsin could have wandered off to and your tracking skills were less than ideal. But nonetheless you pushed forward, taking time to enjoy the silence of the night as you meandered your way through your surroundings. You didn’t bother to bring a torch given just how bright the moon was and only had to fumble a bit under the thickest spots of the canopy. After some time, you picked up on the steadily increasing sounds of crickets and stopped to marvel at the blanket of fireflies that thrived in the darkness.
Between the chirps of the cricket hiding in the grass, you heard the sound of something lightly splashing against water. You redirected your course to head towards the sound and soon stumbled upon a small pond. A symphony of croaking frogs began as you neared the water, surprised to see such a quaint little pond in such a thick forest. The splashing came again, this time the sound seemly skipping across the surface of the water, and as you reached the end of the trees, you could see the remaining ripples riding against the water. 
Halsin was standing up to his shins in pond, his trousers rolled to just above his knees and his shoes had been long forgotten in the grass leading to the water, yet still mysteriously wet. His back was to you and he had yet to hear you approach, too engrossed in skipping stones across the water than to hear you coming up behind him. You could see the muscles of his arms flexing and releasing in the soft glow of the moonlight, an obvious tension in the thickness of the muscles. Something had set the druid on edge and you feared that you were the catalyst of his frustrations; although you had no inkling of a clue that you were also the solution. 
You watched as he wound his arm slightly before flinging a stone from his hand. The rock skipped beautifully across the water, jumping ten times or more before finally sinking to the bottom of the pond. He waited for the water to quiet once again before throwing another stone, but his one much more forceful. Instead of skipping across the water, the rock simply splashed on impact and sunk. There was a frustration in his throw, a side you didn’t see from Halsin very often out of battle, but you still hadn’t determined the cause. You hesitated in your spot, thinking it would probably be best to simply turn away and let him work through his feelings in this state, but part of you wanted to stay. You’d helped him with many issues thus far, so why stop now? 
You took another step towards the pond, purposefully stepping on a branch so it would snap and give away your position. Halsin’s head turned the trees, alarm quickly giving way to relief when you saw you stepping from the foliage. You noted how the scrunched expression on his face melted at the sight of you, making you believe that perhaps he wasn’t angry with you. He gave you a single nod as you approached the edge of the lake, his blood still running too warm for his liking and he wasn’t sure he could speak without a sense of desperation to his voice. You nodded in response, taking the opportunity of finding a body of water to rinse your hands.
“Is everything all right?” You asked as you knelt by the shoreline, dunking your hands in the cool water to wash away any sticky remnants of the honey you’d eaten earlier.
“Oh, yes I’m fine. Just needed some space to think.” Halsin said as he tossed another stone across the quiet surface of the water, “With the city drawing nearer, I fear a peaceful spot like this will be difficult to find. I wanted to savor it while it lasts; try to process recent events and what comes next.”
“Ah. Well… I won’t keep you then.” You said as you stood, flicking water droplets from your fingers in an attempt to dry them, “We both know peace rarely stays for long when I’m around.” You gave a half hearted smile, still unsure if you had done something to upset the druid. Your mind had been settled at the very least, knowing he was safe and had seemingly calmed himself enough to sate your troubled mind.
“Nonsense,” Halsin’s voice was almost surprised, “there is plenty of space in nature for the both of us. You are no bother to me, my friend.” You hesitated for a moment, but eventually spoke.
“You’re certain?” Halsin’s head cocked slightly, picking up on the uncertainty in your voice and realizing that his sudden departure might have offended you in some way.
“Will you join me?” He asked softly as he extended out his hand, offering you a rock to skip yourself.
You felt your heart begin to pick up pace at his offer, having very few times in memory where he’s specifically asked for your company. Normally you asked if he would mind if you joined or he would offer you a space next to him, but very rarely had he specifically asked you to join him. Because of this, you happily obliged and began unlacing your boots to join him in the water. Halsin could feel that familiar warmth beginning to creep into his chest again as he watched your ever teasing fingers quickly unlace your boots. He shifted in the water again, finding a colder spot to stand in as you rolled your trouser legs up to your knee before stepping into the water yourself.
“Good gods.” You muttered as you stepped further into the water, the sudden chill on your legs making your skin seize up and a chill go down your spine.
“Quite brisk tonight, despite how warm the air is.” Halsin said as you stood by him in the water, which had already soaked well past your knees given the depth of your section of pond. You nodded in agreement, still trying to adjust to the temperature change.
He offered you the stone again and you happily accepted it, your fingers brushing against his as you grabbed the stone. You did a double take and took his hand in both of yours, marveling at how unbelievably warm they were when considering he’d been standing in cold water for quite some time now.
“Do you always run so warm to the touch?” You asked as you finally pried your hands away from his, realizing just how long you had lingered. 
“I have lately,” Halsin admitted as you turned the stone in your hand, “the beast tends to run hot and emerge more often when I have something pressing on my mind.” Halsin flicked his wrist and sent another stone skidding across the water, ending with a satisfying plunk as it dipped below the surface.
You were never sure why he always referred to his bear form as a beast. Sure, the bear was a formidable opponent in battle and could show quite the fury when angered, but ultimately the so-called beast was still Halsin. To you, the bear was as much Halsin as Halsin was the bear; one in the same. And admittedly, as much as you admired Halsin, you were also rather fond of the bear.
“Anything I can do to help ease your mind?” You asked softly, “I won’t pry, but if I can be of some use, please, let me know.” 
“Some use?” Halsin asked through a hearty chuckle, “You’ve helped me more than I could have imagined. You’ve greatly exceeded any expectations I could have possibly had when I met you. I do hope you know just how grateful I am for you, my friend.” You found yourself blushing at his praises, a warmth stinging the apples of your cheeks.
“Well, how about more use, then?” You offered after your blush began to die down, still wanting to offer help for the druid if you could.
“I won’t burden you with an old druid’s ramblings.” He said softly, turning his gaze to yours, “You have your own matters to worry about that are much more important.”
“Well,” you sighed when you realized he would go no further, “if you need whatever worth my opinion has on a matter or even just an ear to vent to, I’m here.” Halsin nodded to you as a way of thanks, taking a brief moment to simply admire you before sending another stone across the water.
You both stood in your respective spots for a long while, taking turns to throw stones across the pond. The stones Halsin skipped were always fluid and elegant, easily surpassing a dozen or so skips before finishing off. Yours, on the other hand, were much more choppy. You didn’t think you’d managed to pass more than two skips and most of your stone ended up simply splashing in the water the second they left your fingers. You weren’t the most skilled stone skipper in Faerûn, but you were admittedly enjoying yourself.  
“Are you competitive, Halsin?” You asked after a while, wanting to fill the silence between you and still try to find a way to lift his spirits. If you couldn’t help him with his burdens, then you’d at least like to let him enjoy the night.
“I can be,” he said with a playful glint to his eye, “when I have time to indulge in more light hearted activities. And with the right company, of course.” He motioned to you with his finger.
“Well, in that case, care to indulge me? How about a fresh jar of honey for the winner? Don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing it earlier.” You tossed the rock in your hand and caught it with a touch of flare. Halsin was thankful that the cool water he was standing in kept his heart from racing and his blood from once again running too hot. His eyes focused on the stone you twirled in your fingers as you awaited an answer, your digits once again testing the limits of his self control. 
“I can’t say it’s not tempting,” he spoke slowly, trying to regain a steadiness to his voice, “but, given the circumstances, I’m not sure if indulging is the right thing to do. Not right now, at least. The threat of the Absolute takes priority, does it not?”
“It does, but there’s no harm in indulging in something you want, especially now.” You stopped twirling your stone, opting to simply look out across the water as you spoke, “ The Absolute will be there tomorrow just as it was there today. What happens in our downtime will happen if we’re abstaining from joyous things or giving in completely. So, my thinking at least, is let yourself indulge. The world could end in the morning, so I’m going to enjoy tonight while I still can.”
How Halsin wished he could simply take your view on the world. He couldn’t help but think of all the stress and strain that could have been avoided if he had simply taken one night off here and there to just live. The responsibilities the grove suddenly presented to him all those years ago when the shadow curse first took hold had locked his mind in a constant battle for balance. He always strove to find balance in the natural world, but never took the time to find balance within himself. Instead, he allowed himself to be burdened and live almost as a ghost of his former self for the better part of a century. Until he met you. You were the balance he so desperately craved and wanted.
“Are you always so convincing?” He asked after a moment with a soft grin, finally relenting and decided that tonight would simply be one of indulgence and a bit of fun.
“I have my moments.” You said with a shrug and a cheeky smile. 
You each took a handful of smooth stones from under the water, taking time to find ones that were just the right size and weight for your little game. You had decided that the winner would be whoever could skip a stone the furthest across the surface of the water before you decided to head back to camp. The moon had started to lower, the darkness beginning to lighten ever so slightly, signaling that sunrise was merely an hour or two away.
You once again took turns tossing rocks across with water with very similar results. You clearly knew Halsin would win your little competition and while the more competitive side of you wanted to win, you were simply happy with watching Halsin actually enjoy himself. The feeling was only boosted by the idea that he was enjoying spending his very little free time with you of all people. The thought brought you back to the moment you had shared earlier in camp when he abruptly left, the feeling of guilt once again returning with the thought that you had annoyed him.
“I’m sorry if I disturbed you earlier,” you said as another one of your stones plunked into the water on the first toss, “I should have let you enjoy your evening in peace.”
“You didn’t disturb me,” he said almost immediately, “I always enjoy every moment of your company. It’s just that… long suppressed emotions are bubbling towards the surface. Left unchecked they’re liable to break the tension and I’ll lose any sense of self control.” He sent another rock across the water, this one a bit more forceful, and it skidded across the water to reach his highest number of skips yet.
“Well, sometimes it’s good to let those feelings out. Cry, scream at the sky, go on a rampage. Seems to help Karlach well enough.” You threw a rock and had to catch yourself before losing your footing and falling in the water, “Hells, if you want to go stomping around as a bear for a while if you think it’ll be of assistance, have at it. I’ll be here when you get back and maybe I’ll have figured out how to properly skip a damn stone by the time you return.” He chuckled at your response, truly appreciative of the admiration of the bear, but also at your very sorry attempts at throwing rocks. 
“Widen your stance,” he said as he pointed to your legs, “it’ll give you more stability so you can focus on tossing the stone and not toppling into the water.” You adjusted your leg slightly, pulling one leg just a bit from the other before looking back to Halsin for approval. He simply shook his head and pointed to the side, hinting that you should adjust more. The same cycle repeated for a few rounds with the same result. 
“May I?” Halsin said after a few tries and finally gestured to your leg, wanting permission to help you adjust your stance before touching you. 
“Of course.” You said softly, finding your heart had begun to give the slightest flutter in your chest as Halsin trudged through the water to stand behind you. 
You felt Halsin’s foot nudge yours from under the water, encouraging you to shift your legs further apart. You obliged, shifting your leg until you felt the druid stop his movements. Admittedly, you felt more secure in your posture as you dug your toes into the sandy bottom of the pond. Your breath involuntarily hitched as you felt a pair of large hands on your hips, pulling back slightly and encouraging you to angle one hip further back. As before, you complied. Taking one small step back with one foot until you were at a slight angle. 
“Good,” Halsin said softly against your ear, “just like that.” He could feel his own chest begin to tighten as you melted under his touch. 
With his own lips close to your ear, he could hear the skip to your breath and could see the prickling of your skin as his warm breath tickled your neck. When you angled your hips with Halsin’s movements, your upper back softly rested against Halsin’s broad chest, fitting together almost seamlessly. The warmth of his body so close to yours was a welcome reprieve from the cold water you’d been standing in and you had to resist the urge to lean back more than you already had. You could each feel the others heart beat begin to increase, the pounding steadily increasing the longer your touch lingered on the other. 
You had the quick touch here and there in the past, whether it be through healing or exploring or even a quick pat on the back for moral support, but it had never been anything more. Nothing had ever lingered for more than a few fleeting seconds and none had ever set your heart ablaze like it was now. Although not inherently sexual, there was a sexual tension in the air around you. Your seemingly simple offer to skip stones had quickly turned into something much more intimate. And admittedly, you were beginning to think that maybe there was more to Halsin than to just be a traveling companion. Perhaps you wanted more. 
Shamelessly, you had flirted with him many weeks ago with the tiefling celebration with the aid of half a bottle of a wine, and had very gently been turned down. As much as it had disappointed you at the time, you respected his decision. After all, you were little more than strangers at the time and Halsin had his own share of problems to deal with first. But, now that the shadow curse had been lifted and his duties at the grove were nonexistent now, then just maybe something could happen between the two of you. 
“Now for the stone.” Halsin said after clearing the lump of excitement from his throat. He took the stone from your hand, turning it over in his hands to ensure it was the correct size and weight for skipping. 
You watched as the stone moved through his fingers, noting just how small the stone looked in his hands when the same stone looked large when compared to yours. You had expected his calloused hands to be rough against your skin, but as his fingers brushed against yours, you noticed how exceedingly gentle they were. You had seen his very hands decimate enemies and battle and rip foes apart when in wild shape, but in this moment his hand cradled yours as if you’d break if he were any rougher. 
“Curl these fingers into your palm,” Halsin’s voice brought you back from your thoughts, “and use them to hold the stone steady until you’re ready to throw.” Halsin’s opposite hand was cupping yours, gently pushing your last three fingers with his own so they would curl into themselves. With his hand on yours and the other still holding the stone, you found yourself engulfed between his arms, each of his resting on either side of you.
“Good. Now, use your thumb to hold the bottom of the stone and let it run along the length of your finger. Hook it at the tip.” Halsin effortlessly spread your thumb and pointer finger with his own, giving him the change to slot the skipping stone into your grasp.  
Halsin hesitated for a moment, but his other hand eventually settled on your side, keeping your hips aligned with how they had been previously positioned. He felt your skin prickle at his touch, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his heart thumped even harder against his chest. He had to step back just slightly to keep you from feeling the same warmth he felt begin to grow in other areas of his body. 
“Arm back.” He said as he pulled your arm back at a bend. You allowed him to move your arm as needed until your arm was completely nestled against his. You could feel the tightness of his muscles as he moved his arm in tandem with yours and you could actually feel just how strong his hulking arms were. 
“Now I throw?” You whispered, finding your voice difficult to get out.
“Yes, but there’s a trick,” Halsin’s voice was once again at your ear, his breath tickling the outer shell as he spoke, “you’ll throw outward, but angle it down just slightly. It allows for a slight spin on the stone when you flick it from your fingers and it’ll skip along nicely.” 
With your hand in his, he adjusted the slant of your grip until it was perfect. He kept his grip on you as he helped you toss the stone, his body moving time with yours as he used his arm to guide your own. With a flick of his wrist, and subsequently yours, the rock was thrown perfectly from your grasp and quickly skipped across the water. You both watched in a bit of amazement as the stone surpassed two dozen skips before finally coming to a stop. It was the furthest a rock had been thrown that evening and you were suddenly faced with a dilemma.
“So,” you drawled out as Halsin’s grip remained on you, “who gets the credit for that throw?” The druid couldn’t help but chuckle at the question, not quite sure how to answer it himself. He then realized that he was still holding onto you as you stood in the water and he hesitantly broke away. His fingers lingered ever so slightly on your skin, relishing the contact he’d so greatly been craving.
“I supposed we could call it a tie,” he said eventually, “and we’ll just have to see who can break it.” You nodded in agreement, satisfied with his answer, and readied yourself to begin throwing more stones now that you’d had just an exhilarating lesson. 
You and Halsin spent the next few moments searching the pond for more suitable stones, the bulk of the ones at your feet having already been tossed. With sloshing at your legs and dirt between your toes, you walked as best you could to a new spot, hunched over as you inspected the ground for smooth, rounded rocks. Very soon you were joined by Halsin, who had yet to find a good rock, and you both simply searched the pond in silence. 
“You know, it’s nice to see you like this.” You said eventually, still having come up empty handed for a decent rock.
“Like what? Hunched over and looking for rocks in the middle of the night?” Halsin asked with a chuckle as he continued looking himself. You found yourself standing across from each other, bent over and faces close to the edge of the water, but also rather close to each other. Half a step forward and your nose would be bumping into his.
“No,” you said with a giggle, “relaxing and, dare I say, even happy. It’s a good look for you.” He glanced up to you, offering you a gentle smile.
“I have you to thank for that. You’ve helped me far more than you probably should have already. It’s not fair of me to always burden you with my troubles; they’re not your burdens to bear. Pardon the pun, if you will.” His familiar seriousness had returned to his voice as he spoke, but he was nothing but sincere.
“Well maybe not, but my tadpole problem isn’t yours either. It’s okay to rely on others when you need help, Halsin. I know that what you had as Archdruid forced you to bear your burdens alone, but you don’t need to anymore. You’ve got an entire camps worth of people that would do anything to help. And if all else fails then you’ll have me. Please know that my hand is extended if you need the help.” You instinctively reached forward, not realizing just what you were doing until your slightly cold fingers ran across his burning cheek. You were committed by that point and simply cupped his cheek for a moment to show your sincerity before dropping it back to the tops of your thighs.
“Another night, perhaps.” He finally said after a brief moment of silence, “For tonight I’m too occupied with besting you at a bit of stone skipping.” 
“You seem rather confident.” You said with a huff, being met with a similarly wide grin from the druid.
“After as many stones that you simply threw into the water? I am rather confident.” You responded by playfully dipping your fingers in the water in front of you, bringing them up sharply to splash a small amount of the chilly water on Halsin’s face.
You had expected some sort of witty remark, but instead, you were met with a very large and very cold splash of water to your own face and chest. Halsin had used both his hands to deliver a rather large amount of pond water to you, easily soaking your already thin camp tunic. You stood up straight, the chill going straight to your spine and making your skin prickle once again at the sensation. Your rock skipping competition had now been forgotten and you were both now splashing each other back and forth in the pond. You circled each other, trying to evade the onslaught of water heading towards each of you. You would let out a shriek turned giggle each time you were doused with another handful of water, folding in on yourself momentarily until the initial shock wore off. Halsin was much more dignified when he was splashed by your much smaller handfuls of water, but was no doubt feeling just a chilled after some time.
You continued to circle each other, steadily splashing each other more and more quickly as the game progressed. That was, however, until you finally lost your footing on a smooth rock that you hadn’t seen earlier, and started falling backwards. Thanks to his reflexes, Halsin was able to realize that you were falling much faster than you were, and reached out to grab a hold of your arm in an attempt to keep you from fully submerging yourself in the water. His hold certainly helped you from fully dunking into the water, but you were too far gone for it to save you from getting wet, and you inadvertently pulled the druid down on top of you as you fell into the pond. 
You let out a hiss through your teeth as your bottom collided with the rocks and dirt underneath you, cold water immediately soaking your shirt and wetting your entire back. Halsin had come close to falling on top of you, but thankfully caught himself on his hands and knees before colliding with you. What he couldn’t prevent, however, was where he landed. You soon realized that the druid was looming over you, one of his massive legs was sandwiched between yours and the other rested along your outer hip. His hands were near your sides, not quite close enough to touch, but enough to fully cage you underneath him as your nose sat mere inches from his. You both simply froze in your spots, realizing the precariousness of your situation, yet somehow enraptured by it. 
You could feel Halsin’s warm breath come out in strong bursts against your face, faintly smelling of the apple he had eaten earlier. Your eyes locked to his, unsure of what to do or say in the moment, and you were hoping he would be the more reasonable of the two. However, you were simply met with a tension filled silence, the druid also not sure of what to do or say next. His eyes slowly trailed down from yours, eventually settling along your lips. You let out the slightest of gasps as you felt his hand cup your cheek, much like yours had done to his just moments before, and you felt your heart pound harder than you could image as his thumb made its way down your cheek bone. You were fully expecting his lips to press to your own moments later, but instead you were surprised with a different move.
Halsin slowly ran his thumb across your bottom lip, starting at the corner of your mouth and gently pulling until he came to the center, your lip bending to his movements as he went. When his thumb left your skin after what felt like an eternity, he lifted the digit to your line of sight and revealed a small amount of honey. Your tongue instinctively licked your lip where his thumb had just been, searching for any remaining bit that had apparently been stuck to your mouth all evening. Before you could thank him for removing the sticky mess from your lip, he popped his honey covered thumb into his mouth, licking off the treat as his eyes remained locked onto yours. 
You felt your heart pound against your chest and in your ears as you watched him lick off the teasingly small taste of honey from his thumb. There was something fiery in his eyes as he meticulously cleaned his thumb, something you had never seen so potent and strong before; desire. It only just dawned on you that your own honey licking earlier was what sent him into such a frenzy and caused his urgency to leave. Halsin wanted you and wanted you enough to drive himself mad with desire. Your breath suddenly came in pants as you felt a desirable warmth spread across your abdomen. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him just as desperately in this moment.
“There’s more,” you said breathlessly, “if you want.” Your voice was just a whisper against Halsin’s skin. You weren’t sure if the sudden lack of oxygen in your lungs was from the cool water now engulfing your chest or if it was from the sudden proximity of the druid hovering over you. You also weren’t sure yourself if you still only referring to honey.
“I do, more than anything, I do.” There was desperation in his words, but also a hint of hesitation in his voice as he spoke. 
“But…?” You said after a moment, knowing there was more to his statement than just desire. Like that night at the tiefling party, you felt as if you were about to be gently turned down once again. 
“But not tonight,” his gaze was soft as he spoke, understanding the delicate nature of the topic at hand, “the sun is rising and very soon our companions will stir for the day.”
Halsin wanted more than just a quick night to simply satiate primal needs. He wanted companionship from you, but wasn’t sure himself if you shared in his desires. He could tell you wanted at least one night with him, and until he was certain you also wanted more, he wanted to make the one guaranteed night to be memorable for himself at the least. Halsin needed an early evening and a long night so he could take his time to properly savor you; the taste of your lips, the feel of your skin against his, the scent of your arousal. He wanted to etch it all into memory. 
If you didn’t want more time with him, he wanted to be able to remember your night together over and over again to satiate his own desires when alone in his tent. To recall the way your body moved and arched with his touch, to replay the wonderful little noises that would come from your lips when he found the right spot, and, most importantly, to reminisce about the way you felt around him. Your touch had teased him for so long now and he needed to feel you against every part of him more than he needed anything else. But, he needed a proper night. One where he could take his time with you without worry of being interrupted either by your camp mates or the rising sun. 
 Unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong. You also knew that if your companions noticed that you both were missing, they would surely coming looking for you and interrupt any bit of fun you and Halsin had decided to enjoy together. 
“And,” he said as he brought his lips to your ear as he whispered, but not enough to touch, “if I’m going to indulge in something I’ve wanted for this long, I want to take the time to savor the taste.” You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, the promise of something more to come in the following days was enough to subdue the raging warmth you felt in your abdomen and legs. You nodded in response and were greeted with a thankful smile.
You both remained there for a moment longer before the chill of the water was too much to bear. Halsin stood first, climbing off of your frame before helping you to your feet. You each wrung out as much water from your clothes and hair as possible before picking up your long forgotten shoes and making the long walk back to camp. You walked in silence as you returned to camp, your soaked clothes sloshing about filling the void of silence. 
The sun was beginning to crest just as the crickets and fireflies had quieted down for the morning. Orange light filtered through the leaves of the canopy above as morning birds began their songs for the day, the rays of sun slightly warming your overly chilled bodies. By the time you made it just to the edge of camp, you were relieved to see that no one had yet stirred for the day. The last thing you wanted to do was explain why you and Halsin were returning to camp soaking wet after being gone for most of the night. Halsin stopped you before you could step into the camp, a soft touch lingering on your skin. You turned to face him, getting lost in the softness of his eyes as he spoke.
“Get what rest you can,” he whispered to you, “we’ll let ourselves indulge in the other after the sun sets for the day.” You smiled at the promise, already wishing for the day to go by as quickly as possible.
“Until tonight, then.” You said softly as you began to make your way towards your tent.
“Until tonight.” Halsin replied as he followed suit to his own living quarters. 
You stepped quietly through the camp, hoping the sound of wet cloth rubbing against itself wouldn’t be enough to wake your companions, especially the camp animals. Halsin had made it to the mouth of his tent long before you’d made it to yours, considering yours was the furthest from the pond. You took a quick glance back towards his tent and found that he had not yet gone inside, but was waiting just in the threshold. He wanted to ensure you had gotten inside before he retired for a few moments rest himself. You met his gaze as you gripped the flap to your tent and were met with a quick wink before the druid ducked inside his own tent and out of sight. Your heart fluttered at the gesture and you quickly stepped inside your dwelling space and closed the flap just as you heard the tent next to you begin to stir for the morning. 
Tag List: @thoughts-of-bear ,@beardedladyqueen, @pixie-in-a-moonlantern, @ur-friendly-nbhd-cardassian
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queenimmadolla · 2 years
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𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀
(eddie munson x secret admirer!reader)
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𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • eddie edit © @fefemunson! • ao3
Summary: After four long years of pining, it’s high time you tell your crush you like him and quite possibly your last chance to, luckily there’s no better time for love confessions than Valentine’s Day. If only you hadn’t chosen to do so anonymously, because you’re pretty sure Eddie Munson is hoping his secret admirer is someone else.
Warnings: pining, angst, misunderstandings, very brief (blink and you miss it) descriptions of oncoming panic attack (doesn't happen), Heather Holloway being a sweetie, and a whole lot of fluff
authors note: no, you're not imagining things. i'm reposting a story i already have up. unfortunately, i seem to have an anti who has been flagging anything of mine that gains traction as content that it is not so it's hidden to those who don't have the settings on (most people) and goes to die away, never to be interacted with again. they're attempting to do the same to Magical Mysteria, as they had the original flagged and, therefore, hidden. because everyone seemed to really relate to reader and enjoyed reading this particular fic, i've decided to give that anti the finger, so here's a repost.
word count: 10k
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You stood posted by a row of lockers, peaking around the corner of the hall to watch as the longtime object of your affections laughed at something one of his friends said.
“Are you stalking him again?”
You jumped, clutching your biology book to your chest as you swiveled around to face Heather, your best friend.
“Geez!” You hissed out, voice low as you checked to make sure you hadn’t attracted his attention.
But it’s you, so of course you hadn’t. Eddie was still leaning up against his locker and chatting away, face framed by the mane he called his hair. His curls were defined much more than usual—clearly he’d washed his hair before school which meant he must have been up early. Why did you know that????
“I’m not stalking him,” you grumbled and Heather giggled. “I’m just observing him.”
“Well, stop observing him and go talk to him.” She nudged your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile. 
“I’m gonna—,” You answered with false bravado that soon wavered, “. . . eventually. Look, I have a plan. Okay, today is a new day, Valentine’s Day and the perfect day for romance. No more watching from the sidelines─”
Heather coughed out a stalking, followed by another cough, all of which you ignored.
“No more quietly pining, I’m telling him how I feel.”
Heather raised her eyebrows, tongue clicking. 
“Let me get this straight, you’re not only going to actually exchange words with him, you’re actually going to tell Eddie Munson about your feelings?”
Your heart fluttered just at the mention of him.
Edward Wayne Munson. Eddie.
You’d had a crush on him since your freshman year of high school, and contrary to your best friend’s earlier statement, you had exchanged words with him already. Sorta. Basically.
Freshman year you’d ate shit in the hallway, tripping over literally nothing and all your belongings had scattered, he’d stopped walking to help you pick your things up before he was off again. It wasn’t much conversation, but he did say something about those invisible rocks people left lying around.
Then your sophomore year, he’d sat behind you with his club at the school’s mandatory pep rally. One of his friends had accidentally jostled you and Heather a little too roughly when he was finding his seat and Eddie had apologized on his behalf.
Then last year he’d held the cafeteria door open for you and your friends when you slipped in. That time, you’d been the one to thank him and he had said you’re welcome. Almost unprompted!
So, yeah. Maybe you were a little delusional, it didn’t matter though. What mattered was you were running out of time. 
Somehow, Eddie had managed to fail the past two years, allowing you to catch up to him but that meant you were now a senior as well. You’d let the other chances to approach him pass you by because you were too scared of rejection, this was your last chance.
The college acceptance letter you’d received at the start of the week also spurred your bravery, if he rejected you, you only had a few months left until you were on your way to California, there’d be all those states between the two of you. 
You had nothing to lose, so today was gonna be the day.
“Yes,” you took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as the determination sank deep into your bones. “I’m gonna tell him.”
“How are you gonna do that?” She cocked her head, the curls of her side ponytail bouncing.
“I’m glad you asked, my friend.” You grabbed her hand, dragging her down the hall to your partially opened locker. You pulled the door open fully to reveal a bouquet of roses, set on top of your books.
Her face wrinkled up in confusion, “You bought yourself flowers again?”
“No.” You glared at her, a hand scratching your head as you hissed out through gritted teeth, “And we promised not to bring that up anymore—these are for Eddie.”
Heather perked up at that, a hand resting over her chest as she fawned, “Dude, that is so cute! When are you gonna give them to him?”
“That’s the thing, I’m not actually going to give them to him directly. I need your help. You’ve got history with him, yeah?”
You already knew she did so it didn’t surprise you when she nodded. You slipped one rose from the bouquet and handed it to her. 
“Can you leave this on his desk?” 
“Sure! Wow, I can’t believe I get to be part of your love story,” she marveled, twirling the stem between her fingertips.
God, you hoped it’d be a love story and not a tragedy.
“And these are for you.” You pulled out a smaller bouquet of pink roses, and Heather just about burst into tears.
The two of you had been best friends since middle school, and often spent your free time watching corny teen movies, usually living through the main characters of the romance ones. You’d had a couple of almost-boyfriends, in the end you hadn’t been interested in them enough to accept when they’d try to make it official. And Heather simply hadn’t caught the eye of anyone, which was ridiculous to you considering how pretty and nice she was, so you were usually her valentine on Valentine’s Day. This was the first time you actually got her flowers instead of a bunch of chocolates to eat the night away, you’d figured she deserved them. 
She’d had a crush on Steve Harrington, but he hadn’t noticed her and ended up dating and getting dumped by Nancy Wheeler. Then he’d dated every other girl except her. You feared your non-existent relationship with Eddie might go the same way.
“Dude,” Heather yanked you in for a hug, squeezing you to the point you thought your ribs might be bruised.
“Uhm. Heather. Ow.”
“Oh, sorry.” She released you, holding you by your shoulders, “Okay, so I just give it to him?”
“No, no, no, no, no. There will be no interactions. Just leave it on his desk.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
You were about to reply when the first bell cut you off and threw you into a panic, nudging Heather in the direction of the classroom so she could beat Eddie there. Heather took off running once she realized the reason for your worry, only you both failed to remember Eddie was late to everything. 
You reluctantly made your way to your first period, plagued by thoughts of Eddie’s reaction to the first rose.
Would he like it? Oh, you hoped he liked it.
What if he thought it was some prank? What if he threw it away? Would he do the same to the rest?
Oh, well. There was no backing out now.
Your carefully thought out plan was put into action. You’d made sure to play sick the last 15 minutes of every class to get an excuse note to the nurse, only you didn’t go to the nurse. Instead, you ran around leaving a rose in Eddie’s various hang outs. One at the creepy old bench you knew he did business at. Two roses with the stems placed through the slits of his locker, three on his windshield wipers, one of the younger students in your art class was in Hellfire with him and after swearing him to secrecy, Will had promised to deliver three to Eddie personally, without revealing your identity.  
During lunch, you found yourself behind the stage of the cafeteria, in part of the drama department. It’s where Hellfire took place. 
You’d been there a handful of times, only when your curiosity for the metalhead got a little too overwhelming for you and you wanted to feel closer to him without having to face him. It was only ever set up on Fridays, the day Eddie got to school early enough to do so. 
You made your way over to sit in the chair closest to his throne, casting it a couple of nervous glances.
This would be where you left the last rose, so of course, everything about the set up, the throne had to look daunting to you now; a representation of how you were seeing Eddie as your confession grew nearer. If things didn’t go as planned, it’d be the last time you could come here.
The thought made your stomach hurt, a large void beginning to form there. 
The last rose was much too personal to leave just anywhere, where someone without a key to the room would find it. No one but the Hellfire club would occupy this area today. Attached to the rose with a ribbon was a note with a simple message that meant more to you than you cared to admit. You’d written it when you first came up with your plan at the start of the week and had been debating on whether or not to sign your name since then. 
The answer should’ve been obvious, right? This whole thing was to let Eddie know how you felt about him, and your romantic intentions were clear with the red roses. This note would finish implying the rest. And if you wanted Eddie to know it was you who admired him,  you just had to write your name.
Yeah, simple as that.
You clicked the pen in your grasp, placing it just over the paper. 
You wavered, licking your lips as you tried to convince yourself to just own your goddamn name. That’s all you had to do. Write on the paper.
Just write on the paper.
Your hand was beginning to shake, and with a heavy heart, you realized your name wouldn’t be going on this note.
You weren’t brave enough for that. You set your purple pen down, staring down at the words written in pink ink before you rolled the paper up, making sure the ribbon was secured (you’d used a hole puncher to slip the ribbon through) and left it on the seat of the throne before scurrying out of the room as fast as you could.
Eddie was at a loss, completely stupefied.
When he’d arrived at his history class, after having mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of boredom he’d face, he was surprised to find a single rose on his desk. By surprised, he meant incredibly suspicious. A glance around the room confirmed he wasn’t being watched, everyone was gossiping about Emmy Switcher’s upcoming party, so he’d settled into his seat and marveled at it.
Eddie wasn’t one to ever really get things on Valentine’s Day, not counting the mandatory valentine’s cards in elementary and middle school. The last time he’d gotten a card was his first senior year, and it had been a prank by a couple of girls on the softball team and their boyfriends. Embarrassed the shit out of him. The following Valentine’s Day he’d faked being sick to avoid falling victim again—god, he craved affection so much it made him pathetic enough to still hope for something gross and cheesy to happen to him. 
A rose was harmless though, right? Unless it was poisoned or something. Eddie lifted it to his nose, but all he could pick up was the seductive floral scent and when he didn’t immediately pass out from chloroform, he figured it was just a rose.
He glanced around again in vain, hoping someone would somehow stick out and when no one did, he held it in his grasp, rough fingertips stroking over the soft petals for the duration of the class.
He’d been stunned when he arrived at his locker to find two roses hanging out of it. A few people were staring at him as he carefully pulled them from their place, but they looked more curious rather than shy or mischievous. He had a feeling whoever was leaving the roses for him wasn’t around. 
He refused to leave them in his locker, the stems clutched in his hand as he went about his day and found more. Eddie was more than proud to display them, somewhat smug at the attention they were garnishing him.
Yeah, fuckers. Someone finally liked him. Eat shit.
He’d spent his English class convincing himself he’d never find out exactly who this someone was. He was pretty fucking stressed after that. He tried to come up with a roster of sorts, girls he thought might be interested in him enough to maybe leave him pretty flowers and woo him right out of his Reeboks.
He’d only been able to come up with four—impressive—but his first pick he was quick to scribble out. He hadn’t had a decent interaction with her and he figured it was creepy of him to put her at the top of the list all because of his wishful thinking. 
The second girl listed was possible, maybe. Chrissy Cunningham. He’d had a crush on her for as long as he could remember since she was always nice to him. She’d dumped Jason a couple of months ago and he’d been dealing to her for a short amount of time, but she seemed pretty flirty to him. Although, flattery did work on him.
The third name made him nervous, and not in a good way. Tina Sawyer. They’d both got pretty drunk at her Halloween party and hooked up in her bathroom but she avoided him like the plague afterwards, obviously embarrassed about interacting with him, which was typical for the lot of Hawkins.
He’d been sure it was a drunken mistake but sometimes, he’d catch her staring at him, and she didn’t look all that disgusted with him.
The last name on the short list was that of Tammy Thompson. She had made her interest in Eddie pretty clear his junior year, always trying to sit behind him in classes so she could play with his hair. Unfortunately Tammy was very, for the lack of better words, aggressive with her affections. He’d made out with her once and it had been sloppy and messy in the most unattractive of ways. It was like tonguing a dog.. Then he remembered she’d actually been able to graduate, unlike him, so he was spared. 
By lunch, Eddie was ready to try to figure out who his secret admirer was. Out of the two remaining girls on his list, he was leaning more towards Chrissy, who he felt wouldn’t be ashamed to hold his hand in public. 
He and his lunchbox full of drugs—and some snacks—made their way to the Hellfire lunch table where he spent a significant amount of time studying the two girls.
“Uh, are you okay, Eddie?”
Eddie glanced up at the concerned face of Will Byers, who’d arrived much later than the rest of the guys and Stephanie, one of the two girls in Hellfire. The question drew the attention of the rest of the table and Eddie internally sighed.
“Yeah, I’m fine—what are those?” Eddie asked, eyes honed in on the roses resting on Will’s tray.
The younger teen handed them over, “A girl told me to give you these.”
Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, “You know who she is?”
Will nodded and before Eddie could demand a name, he rushed, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy!”
Eddie scowled, carefully setting aside his roses so they wouldn’t be involved in his annoyance. 
“Byers, I’m gonna level with you. I’ve been in this miserable prison for six long years. While I’ve had my fair share of hookups, I have not ever had a girl like me enough to leave me roses and do cute shit before. And I fear I never will again. That’s why I’m actually gonna need you to tell me who it is so I can have a girlfriend by the end of what is supposed to be the most god awful romantic day of the year. ‘Kay?”
Eddie’s eyebrows dart up, face set in an intimidating glower but Will remembers how scared you looked when you trusted him with this task. He also knows, very well, how it feels to love someone without them ever knowing because you fear what their response will be. He’d also seen Eddie eyeing both Chrissy and Tina.
Will knew what it was like to have that special person interested in someone else, too. So, he’d protect your secret.
“I swore.”
Eddie groaned, head dipping forward in a brief moment of defeat before he slammed his fist on the table, making the other occupants jump. 
“Whatever, I’ll find her myself.” Just as Eddie stands, an idea occurs to him. Will said he wouldn’t tell him who it was, but the youngest Byers hadn’t said he wouldn’t tell him who it wasn’t, “Is it Tina?”
Will shakes his head, nose wrinkling. Nothing against her, she just wasn’t the nicest to him or his friends. Not the meanest, still.
Eddie breathes out a sigh, mumbling an oh, thank god as he makes his way to the cafeteria doors. That only left one possibility, and he was due to meet up with her in just five minutes. He couldn’t fight the grin off his face.
── 
Your heart was racing a mile a minute, having witnessed everything transpire at the Hellfire table.
You’d selected your lunch table four years ago because of the perfect view of Eddie it provided you, but right then it was killing you. You’d ruined your manicure, picking aggressively at the polish as you watched Will and Eddie, breathing out a sigh of relief when it looked like Will hadn’t revealed your identity.
Eddie hadn’t seemed too happy about that.
Then he stormed out and you fought very hard with yourself to not follow after him because then Heather would be right and you’d be a stalker.
“Regret it yet?” Heather asked after she’d swallowed a bite of her sandwich. 
“No.” You sorta lied. Yeah, you kind of regretted it but at the same time, knowing Eddie wouldn’t have to let you down gently made you less anxious. Besides, it wasn’t like you could just climb up the stage and duck past the curtain leading to the hellfire room without one of it’s members spotting you from their table. They’d tell Eddie in a heartbeat, especially if they found out the last rose and that damn note was there.
“Sure,” Heather drawled, glancing over her shoulder as you picked at your food, appetite suddenly gone. 
Maybe you really should have written your name on that love note. 
“Well, I hope you mean it, because Dream Girl is on her way to meet Ice Cream.” Your head snapped up at the mention of Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie’s code names you’d given them so both you and Heather were free to talk without either of them suspecting anything. You referred to Chrissy as Dream Girl because you’d known all about Eddie’s crush on her (while Heather had been depressed about Steve and Nancy, you’d eaten your weight in ice cream over Eddie and Chrissy’s more than friendly interactions with each other, which had nothing to do with Eddie’s code name—he was ‘ice cream’ because you wanted to lick him all over).
Sure enough, you looked over Heather’s shoulder, following her gaze to see Chrissy bidding her friends goodbye before she walked right out of the doors Eddie had pushed past minutes ago and as you watched her exit through the double doors, something inside you withers and dies a bit.
You knew Eddie sold to her (gave her a discount because she was pretty and because of their flirting, hearing him say that made you want to drive a knife right through your chest), you and Heather had followed them out a couple of times which is how you were both aware of the flirtationship.
After the first time you’d spied on them, the two of you had gone back to your home where Heather held a mock funeral for you. Now, you wished it had been a real one because you were sure Eddie had not only loved your roses, he also assumed they were from Chrissy. They would send him right into her arms at that shitty ass bench. And when he’d get a hold of the love note, well, you’d be the reason behind why Eddie and Chrissy would be hand in hand come Monday, canoodling by their lockers and kissing like no one else was watching. All the things Eddie should have been doing with you.
You should have signed your name on the fucking note.
Eddie had paced a pathway, disturbing the mounds of fallen leaves surrounding the picnic table. 
His stuff, another rose he’d found waiting for him included, was on the table and he’d taken off his jacket, despite the chill of the February air. He was working himself up in his head, overheating in the process.
“Eddie?”
His head shot around, grinning as Chrissy—who apparently left him roses—approached him, face broken out in a smile.
“Hey, Chris.” Eddie’s heart was racing a mile a minute, palms sweaty as he rested them over his hips, then quickly realized he looked stupid so he crossed them instead.
She laughed at his nerves with absolutely no malice and they sat down at the bench, getting down to business. She’d been about to hand him a twenty dollar bill after he slid her the ziploc bag of nugs, but he held up his hand.
“On the house.”
“Eddie, it’s always on the house. I feel bad.”
“Then stop.” He emphasized the demand with bulging eyes, smirking when she giggled. She had to like him, right?
Eddie tried to be discreet about it, plucking one of the roses from his growing pile. He played with the stem, even sniffed the petals again in hopes she’d comment about it, maybe look a little excited about it or just give him any sort of reaction to indicate it had been her.
Chrissy was too busy moving things aside in her backpack to make room for the baggy. When she finally did look back up, she smiled, but gave no hint she was even familiar with them.
“Ooh, pretty flowers. Where’d you get those?”
Was she playing coy?
“Uh, someone’s been leaving them for me all around school.” Was it you?
Chrissy’s face lit up and Eddie thought it was finally the moment of truth.
“That’s so sweet! Do you know who it is? Or is it like a secret admirer sort of deal?”
Evidently, not the moment of truth. She had to be toying with him, trying to prolong the reveal. Because if it wasn’t her, he was out of ideas. And he really, really didn’t want to be out of ideas. Not when there was someone out there, maybe thinking about him.
“I actually have no idea who it is,” he sighed out, hoping, if it was her, she’d just put him out of his damn misery already.
Chrissy glanced down at the table and Eddie perked up. Nerves? Was she finally gonna come out with it?
“It wasn’t me, Eddie…but, I wish it had been.”
Eddie didn’t know what to say, mouth dropped open a little as his eyebrows quirked up in surprise.
Okay. Hadn’t been expecting that. He was expecting a yes it was me or a no it wasn’t me but not Chrissy confirming it hadn’t been her while also telling him she liked him. 
“So, you haven’t been leaving them for me?”
Chrissy shook her head and reached across the table to place her smaller hand over his, palm warm against his skin. Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, head falling forward to rest against the table.
“Eddie?” Chrissy asked, concern lacing her voice.
He let out a very long sigh, a little miffed at how messy this whole thing had gotten. Now, there was his, Chrissy’s and someone else’s feelings in the mix. Christ.
“‘M’sorry, Chrissy.” Eddie sat up straight, face grim as he slowly pulled his hand out from underneath hers. “You’re great, fantastic, actually. You’re really nice and really pretty, but… I’ve been going crazy all day, trying to figure out who’s behind these.”
He gestures to the roses at his side, the sight of them filling him with an intense wave of longing.
“It’s been like years since I’ve gotten anything with real meaning behind it for any occasion—” he wasn’t counting the hellfire club or Wayne, referring to romantic intentions—“let alone Valentine’s Day, and someone in this school seems to be thinking about me.” 
Eddie thought about what it must have taken to do something like this, it may have seemed like a trivial thought, something simple to others. He knew it wasn’t. He had no idea who it was, but he put himself in their position. They had to know enough about him to know his schedule, where he spent time, and then make the time to leave them in those spots just before he got there. 
He’d spent the time waiting for Chrissy considering the anonymity of it. On the chance it wasn’t her, there was someone else in the school who was too afraid to approach him directly. He’d thought it might be out of fear of being seen with him, seen doing anything remotely romantic with him. Then, why even bother? They had to be afraid of his reaction, it’s what he would be nervous about if the positions were flipped.
And god, he’d never felt more alive before, more seen and all it took was a couple of roses. He felt like those fawning girls in John Hughes movies. 
“Before today, I never would have approached you about this, you know? I know we flirt, but I never would have been brave enough to cross that line.” He admitted, looking into her shiny blue eyes. Aw, man. Eddie hated making girls cry but it was true, he would have been waiting for her to make a move, or for Tina to make a move. Any of his past hookups, really. He’d have been with any of them—having craved affection and everything that came with it so bad—if they had just been the ones to initiate things on a more permanent basis. 
He would have. Past tense. They could all form a conga line and confess their undying love for him but, unless they were the one who left him the roses—the one who made him brave enough to actually go around confronting people in an attempt to seek her out—he’d let them down. 
“She made me brave, makes me feel really wanted and I don't even know who she is. It’s not you, it’s just─”
“I’m not her.” Chrissy finished for him, wiping under one of her eyes. “It’s alright, Eddie. I mean, I’m obviously a little sad, but it’s not your fault or hers. I do hope you find her, though. She’d be lucky to have you.”
She gave Eddie a sad smile, making him feel even guiltier but it’d be pretty shitty of him to try to be with her when he’d be thinking of someone else.
“Thanks, Chrissy.” Eddie stood up and gathered his things. It was clear she was upset and would probably need some time to gather herself, he didn’t want to force her to leave first or linger around and make it awkward.
He left her with a small, parting smile, relieved that he hadn’t charged her. Would have felt like a douchebag to make her pay for weed and turn her down in the span of five minutes when she’d been nothing but pleasant to him.
Eddie shook it off, determination setting in once more. Sure, he was back to the drawing board, but if all else failed, he could corner young Byers again until he finally gave him a name.
He’d come up with a pretty good list of ways he could force Will to give up the name by the time school let out and he got to the Hellfire room.
It wasn’t until he set his little bouquet and the lunchbox down (he didn’t bother with backpacks, just shoved whatever he needed in his pants pockets or the box), walking around the throne in a circle like some fucking animal because he was so restless, that he saw the rose.
The flash of white had caught his eyes and he dove down to grab it, trying to be as careful with pulling the piece of paper away from the stem of the rose, only he realized whoever left it had hole punched the thing together so he ripped the ribbon with his teeth rather than rip the note.
The ribbon was stuffed into his back pocket as he eagerly sat himself down, rose clutched in one hand and the note in his other.
Eddie,
Please excuse my lack of eloquence in this note and also in our real life encounters.
Eddie felt a shiver of excitement wash over his skin, cheeks a bright shade of pink at the confirmation he’d indeed interacted with his secret admirer before. Fuck, she’d talked to him! It made her feel even more real. 
She was a real person, someone he could probably hold hands with and kiss. Unless, this was done in a purely platonic way which would be a little fucked up. Red roses to be friends? C’mon. He read on.
I hoped you liked the flowers. I was actually debating on getting you different ones, something a little more personalized to you, but I ended up going with roses because, well, they convey romance better.
Eddie leaned over the arm of the throne, sagging back as he allowed himself to completely collapse with relief. Just for a few seconds, then his eyes were glued to the pink penmanship.
I’m trying really hard not to sound creepy because I’m totally not creepy and I know what you're thinking, ‘that’s what a creep would say’ but I swear I’m not, I just. I admire you. A lot. I have for so, so long. I admire the way you keep going, even when things are absolute shit for you, I like how you watch out for the underclassmen that come in and don’t really have anywhere to go. I like the way you dress, how pretty your hair is (even when it’s frizzy which is so unfair), how passionate you get with your rants (even though sometimes you’re an asshole about it). 
And I like your laugh I LOVE your laugh. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had what feels like the worst fucking day of my life and I’m ready to breakdown and cry and scream, but I don’t. Because I can hear you laugh your ass off at something one of your friends said in the cafeteria, by your locker or even when you’re just walking past me. And I wish I was there, laughing alongside you or making you laugh. I don’t know how your laughter makes me feel better, it just does. I get all smiley and I feel warm inside and I want to give you a hug for it, for making me feel better without even trying. 
But I can’t. You kind of scare me. Not in the mean, scary way, I’m just not sure you’ll like me. Or that it’ll go anywhere, or even if it should. 
You’re so confident, Eddie. And you’re stupid attractive (you are, and I’m sure you’re aware but I’ll go ahead and tell you I’m also physically attracted to you) and it’s so overwhelming that I can’t contain it anymore and I don’t really want to. We only have a couple of months before we’re out of here (I have a feeling this is gonna be your year, you’ll be free of this sentence, too), and I don’t want to have any regrets. The only way I’d ever regret you is by not telling you how I feel. 
So, here I am, Eddie Munson. Never thought I’d ever be confessing like this, but for the first time in my life, I feel brave. And it’s all because of you. Thank you, Eddie. I’ll be running around— dodging teachers and detention write ups— like Rocky in his training montages to get these roses to you because you deserve your flowers and I’d be delighted to give them to you today, and every single Valentine’s Day after. Actually, I want to give you even more than that. If you’ll have me.
Love,
What the fuck?
Eddie hastily searched the bottom portion of the back side of the paper, where the note ended for a signature, a name, initials, something but that’s where it ended.
 There was no name.
“NO! FUCK! NO! No, no, no, no, NO! I’ll have you, take me, just tell me who you are!” Eddie groaned out, note dropped into his lap so he could clench the roots of his hair with both fists as he doubled over.
This had to be a nightmare. It was the only reasonable explanation for someone to say all those wonderfuckingful things, just for them to disappear. 
His heart hurt and he blinked frantically to ward off the onslaught of water and sniffed to deter the tingle in his nose. 
The unmistakable sound of his own little rat pack making their way towards the room wasn’t enough to get him to pull himself together.
“Eddie, dude, are you okay?”
Eddie recalled his final option, head shooting to glance around at their faces in search of one in particular. 
“Byers. Where’s Byers?”
“His mom picked him up after lunch, wasn’t feeling good,” Mike informed him, completely unaware his grand Valentine’s gesture for Jane had been the cause of his sudden illness. 
It was the final straw for Eddie, he snatched the lunchbox and flowers and grumbled out, “Sessions canceled.”
He must have looked pissed as none of them protested, probably having something to do with most of them having dates afterwards. 
He almost made it out of the room when Gareth called him back, holding up a purple pen he’d found on the table and figured Eddie was about to forget.
“Is this yours?”
Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes. 
“No.” Then he walked out.
Before promptly storming back in, swiping the pen out of Gareth’s meaty hands. Eddie clicked the pen and scribbled furiously over the side of his fist until the ink finally ran. It wasn’t purple. The ink filler was pink.
His secret admirer’s pen.
“What a cruel parting gift,” he sighed, shoving the pen in his pocket before making his exit. Again.
The really sad thing was Eddie couldn’t even sink into depression in the peace of his room. Emmy Switcher had approached Rick about wanting some herbal refreshments at her party and since he was still under house arrest (how Rick managed to deal and supply in his circumstances baffled him) the job fell upon Eddie. He’d driven to Rick’s restocked, then hit the party. 
It was a horn fest, couples everywhere he looked. All heart-eyed and attached at the tongue. It was disgusting.
Eddie was pouting, quietly fuming that it wasn’t him and his secret admirer making out or cuddling or doing something equally romantic but noooooo. Just had to take the ‘secret’ aspect to its extreme. 
He banished himself to a dark corner, only interacting with people when approached for drugs or weed. He’d caught sight of Chrissy and it had looked like she wanted to come over but he’d purposely shifted his gaze. Despite the gaping hole left where his heart was, it wasn’t Chrissy or Tina, or the girl in the upstairs restroom, who’d thrown herself at him when he’d been searching for a free bathroom to piss in, that he wanted. Eddie wasn’t in the mood to rebound.
Which was kind of crazy considering he hadn’t even been in a relationship, hadn’t been dumped. He wanted everything in that note, especially the promise of more and only with its author. 
Now, Eddie hadn’t been in love before. Some serious lust and want, yeah, however, reading that note made him feel like he was falling a little bit in love and he wanted, very badly, to dive headfirst the rest of the way. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.
Once he’d sold out the rest of Rick’s inventory, he stole a beer and headed for the front door. 
Once outside, Eddie took a minute to breathe. He hadn’t realized how stuffy it had been in there until he was no longer engulfed by the claustrophobic displays of affection. 
He trudged down the pathway and paused when he saw the figure of a girl sitting on the lawn. Her head was directed down towards the ground and she was most definitely not wearing the right clothes for the outside weather.
Eddie cursed under his breath, plans to immediately drive home and get crossed put on hold as he walked over, noting the dew already coating the grass.
“Hey, you okay?”
Drinking your sorrows away probably wasn’t the best idea, considering how much of a lightweight you were. 
Originally, you’d wanted to lock yourself away in your room for the night—and probably the rest of the weekend as well as maybe the next school week; nothing wrong with playing sick to avoid facing reality and your problems─to cry and pass out. Heather, on the other hand, had plans for you. She’d dolled you up, having to force you to wash your face and re-do your makeup once when you had started crying—put you in a cute outfit and dragged you to Emmy Switcher’s party. 
You knew her intentions were pure—as pure as underage drinking could be—but she knew her mistake when the party started to couple up. You’d been approached multiple times and she’d try to encourage you to go for the decent acting ones, you just hadn’t wanted to. When Chrissy Cunningham showed up, you’d gone for shots of the hard liquor (over the sink of course in case you gagged it up, which you did a decent amount of), sure that Eddie would soon follow and you’d be forced to witness their affection.
Obviously, you ended up shitfaced and somehow lost track of Heather. Or maybe she lost track of you. You’d very briefly attempted to find her, accidentally spotted Chrissy, now making eyes at Eddie who’d shown up, and you’d promptly headed outside, eager for some fresh air and an escape from the madhouse. The high alcohol level in your blood kept you from feeling how chilly it really was and you settled into the grass, twirling strands of it around your fingers.
You weren’t sure how long you were out there when someone approached you.
“Hey, you okay?”
You looked up, ready to ask them to just leave you when you locked eyes with Eddie Munson. Most of the liquid courage coursing through your veins evaporated, you couldn’t look at him for long, gaze moving back to the grass. What a way to start sobering up.
“I’m fine.”
“You sure? ‘Cause,” Eddie sat down next to you, one leg crossed and his other, knee up with his arm resting over it. His unopened beer was at his side, “You’re outside, alone, in the cold and you look pretty fucking sad.”
You scoffed, fingers still playing with the strands of grass as you tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make you seem pathetic. In that time, Eddie took you in.
He knew you, he’d seen you around school and you were nice enough to greet him. Pleasantries in passing. Pretty Hallway Girl, as you’d been dubbed—though never referred to as—until he knew your name. It had been the first one he had jotted down on his list for his secret admirer’s identity, of course he realized with your lack of interactions, it wasn’t likely. He entertained the idea of dating you often, you’d just never shown any real interest in him. Eddie thought about it a lot. Anytime he caught sight of you, really. Your pretty face didn’t make it easy for him to stop. He was a really, really big sucker for your eyes and that smile you’d give him during those brief interactions; like the two of you had some sort of secret between each other. Warmed him up inside.
And here you were, all sad at a party. He didn’t really mind not getting crossed if it meant he got to comfort you, keep you company.
“I’m just drunk,” you finally blurted out, unable to come up with anything else, “And bummed.” 
Try devastated.
“You look it,” he joked, nudging his shoulder against yours.
“You don’t look that much better.” You shot back.
“That’s fair,” he sighed, breath visible in the night air as he tilted his head back. “I’m pretty bummed, myself.”
You really didn’t want to ask, figuring he’d already had some sort of lover’s quarrel with Chrissy and you didn’t want to get in the middle of it. 
But you were an idiot, so you asked, “Why are you bummed?”
You watched him dig around the pockets of his leather jacket, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out of the pack, clenching it in between his teeth as he shoved the pack back into the pocket before he shrugged off the jacket entirely—denim vest included—putting it around your shoulders.
It caught you off guard but you were grateful, your body having decided to become once more susceptible to the chill of the air and dewy grass. Eddie must have been a freaking space heater because the lining inside was blissfully warm.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, shimmying around in it until you could slip your arms into the long sleeves of it, your fingers barely poking past the hem.
“You’re welcome,” he shrugged, flicking the lighter to life as he lit the cigarette. After he’d taken a drag, he answered you. 
“Love,” Eddie blew out along with a wispy plume of smoke, “Didn’t expect it to be so complicated.”
You wanted to mime the action of staking yourself in the heart. Of course he was in love with her. She was wonderful! And on top of that, he thought she’d been the one leaving him roses! Had he read the note? Assumed it was her, too? DUH! You were definitely playing sick next week.
“Yeah, well. Join the club,” you grumbled, hugging his jacket around you. It was as close as you were ever gonna get to actually hugging him. 
Eddie raised an eyebrow, hoping to school his disappointment. While he wasn’t looking for anyone else tonight, it was still displeasing to hear you were taken but of course you were. He couldn’t imagine you dating sporadically, you seemed much too wonderful for someone to even consider giving you up. No, he was gonna hurt himself with ideas involving you and a high school sweetheart stemming back to your freshman days, probably.
“Ah, I see. Is he here?”
You froze for a moment, “Uhm, yeah. He is.”
“Then why come? Or did it happen in there?” He jabbed a thumb behind him, gesturing to the party inside.
“No, it didn’t happen tonight, it was earlier. In the day. I didn’t really want to come but my best friend dragged me out here. I thought I was doing good, apparently not ‘cause here I am. I’m mostly bummed because of myself, though. I didn’t follow through on something I sort of promised myself and I messed everything up. For me. Not for him. I think he’s pretty happy, so I don’t want to ruin that. He deserves to be happy.”
Eddie could tell you meant it, you were vague as hell but whatever you’d done, however it ended, you genuinely seemed to want your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) to be happy. He hoped it wasn’t something you had to cave into for one of those meatheads. You deserved better than those jerks.
“That’s pretty selfless of you if you ask me,” Eddie raised the cigarette to his lips, admiring you.
“Eh, I guess. I fully plan on punishing myself for it, though. Really make sure to rub the salt in there, you know?” You finally turned to grin at him, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach.
Eddie thought about how he couldn’t just stop going to school so he could avoid having to look at all the faces in the crowds and wonder if his admirer is one of them.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m right there with you.”
Sweetheart. He really was trying to kill you.
“Eddie, get your ass in there and make up with her.” You lightly slapped his arm and jabbed your finger in the direction of the house. You were not about to let your sacrifice be in vain and he’d better stop unknowingly torturing you like this.
“I can’t!” He laughed, amused with your sudden bossy attitude.
“Why not?” You whined, eager to just get him away from you. It wasn’t fair, he wasn’t being fair.
“Because I have no idea who she is.”
Once again you froze, eyes widening. Luckily for you, Eddie didn’t look too much into your reaction. He figured most people would be surprised over him nursing a heartbreak from someone he didn’t quite actually know, or was aware that he knew.
“What?” You asked, trying to seem as uninterested as possible as you played with the ends of his jacket sleeves.
“Fuck it. Someone left me roses all around the school and this really amazing love note.” For a moment, Eddie entertained the idea of trying to convey exactly what it meant to him, then he thought better of it. He’d either seem crazy, desperate or like some pathetic guy in love (which, he kind of was on the cusp of), “Pretty sure it was a girl.”
Not a single dude in the high school was romantic enough to pull it off, maybe leave him an entire bouquet, but not expand upon it like she had.
Eddie licked his lips, raising the cigarette to them once more and ready to admit that he had no fucking clue who she was, but he figured he might as well make one last rally.
“Wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”
“Not me,” you lied flawlessly, with a gentle shake of your head. “Sorry, Eddie.”
Sorry I’m a big liar because HOLY FUCKING SHIT, wasn’t expecting that. 
“I figured. Still had to try, your boyfriend probably would have kicked my ass, though.” Yeah, Eddie hated Valentine’s Day.
He stubbed the cigarette out into the wet grass, and laid the rest of the way down, hands covering his eyes as the back of his head met the ground.
You frowned down at him. 
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Hello. 
Eddie peaked at you through his fingers, “No?”
You shook your head and as Eddie moved to push himself back up, he yelped.
He shifted onto his side, digging around his pocket for whatever it was that stabbed him.
“Ouch,” He hissed, yanking the purple pen out. “Damn, that hurt like a bitch.” 
Your eyes squinted at it in suspicion.
“Is that my pen?”
“Huh?”
“My favorite—and pricey—pen. I lost it at school today.” In fact, you were sure you had and you were sure that was your pen. You’d broken off the clip of it by accident and you recognized the large crack in the body of it, having once given into an intrusive thought regarding whether or not you had the strength to break it while you were bored in class. You did have the strength and luckily for you, it still worked. 
When Eddie made no move to give your pen back, you figured he didn’t believe you so you added, “The ink is pink, right?”
Eddie continued to stare at you, mouth slightly parted in awe, and you suddenly felt very nervous, glancing behind you to see if there was something that caught his attention but all you could see were the empty lawns.
“What?” 
He finally blinked, licking his lips again. 
“You’re a really good liar.”
“What?” You repeated, this time your question was laced more so with confusion than panic. He was right, but why was he saying that?
His lips slowly parted up at the corners until he was grinning at you so wide, his dimples were showing and you could feel your heart beating wildly against your rib cage, as if it was trying to break free to fly right over to him.
“This is your pen?”
“Yes!” Is that what his happiness was about? That he was holding your prized pen hostage?
“This is your pen?” You could tell he was having fun at your expense now, getting more giddy by the minute.
“Yes!” You laughed out, his joy contagious even if he was teasing you with your own belongings. “That is my pen. Give me my pen!”
He clicked it closed with his thumb, “I found it where we hold Hellfire sessions, same pen that was used to write my love note.”
And just like that, your heartbeat seemed to stop all together, smile dropping instantly as you wished a giant hole could form in the ground below you and swallow you up.
“That’s not my pen,” you denied, shrugging off his jacket as you quickly rose to your feet. “I gotta go, bye, Eddie.”
When you saw him starting to hastily rise, you bolted, literally running back into the house to try to find Heather and get the hell out of there.
You heard Eddie frantically calling your name but you didn’t stop, forcing your way through the bodies as you desperately searched for your best friend.
Luck was finally on your side because you were soon smashed into her back by a passing group.
“Whoa,” she laughed, turning to steady you, “There you are, I’ve been searching for you everywh—hey, what’s wrong?”
You were sure she must have noticed the panic on your face, eyes shiny with tears you refused to let fall in public. 
“I wanna go home, we have to leave.” You grabbed her hand, pulling her into a secluded corner as your head darted in the direction of the front door. You wanted to make a run for it but you feared running into Eddie on the way.
“What happened?” Heather asked, voice initially soft before hardening as her protective nature came out, “Did someone do something?” 
You shook your head, chest heaving with your breaths. You were so close to having a panic attack. 
“Eddie. He knows. He knows, Heather.” And because she was your best friend, she understood, mouth and eyes going wide.
“Holy crap. Wait—isn’t this what you wanted?” 
“No—yes—I don’t know! I can’t face him!” There was a reason you hadn’t written your name down on the note, regardless of how badly you wanted to. You were just scared.
“Why not?” She bent down, leaned in closer to hear you. This girl and her twenty questions.
“It doesn’t matter, he didn’t want it to be me, anyways. He would’ve asked earlier, and he only did it now because of that stupid pen!” You should have kept your mouth shut and just gone to buy another over the weekend, “Can we just please get out of here? We can try the side gate in the backyard.”
“Is Eddie looking for you?”
“Yes, that’s why we have to leave!” Whatever Eddie had to say, you didn’t want to hear it. Yeah, maybe he could want you but if he didn’t, was searching for you to let you down gently you’d be heartbroken. 
“He knows and you don’t think he wanted it to be you?”
“Yes!”
“Then why would he be looking for you?”
You refused to answer her, pushing her towards the back door instead. She went willingly for a few steps, then Heather stopped and you bumped into her back again as she craned her neck to look over her shoulder. 
“I think it's too late for that.” She pointed at something behind you and you followed her finger. 
Eddie was standing on top of the kitchen table a bunch of guys had carried into the living room to play beer pong on, eyes searching the room with his lips set in a frown.
He was attracting attention, a multitude of heads turning to peer up at him in curiosity.
Oh, god. He was looking for you, you were probably going to get rejected at a fucking Valentine’s Day party in some stranger’s living room.
Eddie must have caught the attention of someone near the sound system because the volume of the music was lowered and you could hear everyone muttering amongst themselves, asking what had happened to the music before they noticed Eddie.
He glanced around, not even a little nervous at the amount of people staring at him. He hadn’t planned on making a huge show of it, figured they were all too drunk to pay him any attention, luckily he was used to being a spectacle. 
Eddie used it to his advantage, calling out your full name.
The crowd muttered, everyone looking at each other in confusion or maybe trying to catch sight of you. 
It wasn’t long before someone recognized you, head turning in your direction, followed by many more—a domino effect—until just about everyone was staring at you, including Eddie.
He hopped off the table and made his way towards you, crowd parting to allow him. Heather slipped her hand into yours at your side, giving you a reassuring squeeze before she too stepped away, leaving you to finally face Eddie.
Eddie didn’t look at anyone else, gaze trained solely on you.
“Hi, again.”
You blinked, unable to keep yourself from glancing at the crowd around you, curious—nosey—to see what would happen next.
Guess you were going to have to finally face reality, no more running. You didn’t think you could break through the crowd, anyways.
“Hi,” you whispered but you knew Eddie had heard you, his lips pursed into a smile, eyes lighting up when you didn’t shut down.
“You ran away before I could tell you how I feel.” Eddie took another step, pretty much invading your personal space but he was desperate to be close to you and maybe body block you in case you tried to flee. He didn’t want you to run away again, to disappear like he feared you had when you hadn’t left your name on the note.
“It’s only fair, right? Since I know?”
You nodded again, the drum of your heartbeat loud in your ears. You were surprised you could hear Eddie over it.
Eddie stared down at you, lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t look upset or frustrated. It looked like he was thinking about something.
Little did you know he was reciting the note in his head to give him some courage, he’d memorized it.
He didn’t leave you waiting for long. 
“I admire you. A lot.” Your breath hitched as the words you’d jotted down were repeated to you, “So much that I want to stand on expensive looking, antique tables and crash parties for you. I like the way you get animated when you talk, the way you give into your intrusive thoughts at the most random of times—yeah, I saw you trying to see if your finger fit in the pencil sharpener in the library once—I like how kind you are, even when people don’t deserve it. 
“I like how you’ve never made me feel ostracized, never made anybody feel like that and I like how dramatic you are—storming off, making an exit, falling flat on your face in hallways then staying there like a dead body before you decide to reanimate again once you’re done being embarrassed. I like how you beat up your locker when it won’t open and then you give it a couple of pats to apologize once it finally does.”
Eddie chuckled at those particular memories, having been thoroughly amused when watching you and you feel your face get hot at being the cause of his cute laugh.
“And I really like your face, your pretty eyes, all of this,” Eddie gestured to you, to all of you from head to toe, “… you’re beautiful. Although, I gotta say, you drove me really fucking crazy today. Made me feel emotions I didn’t know I was capable of feeling and you scared the shit out of me when I thought I’d never get to know who the person I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with is.”
Okay, maybe you didn’t want the ground to swallow you whole.
“I know we only have a couple of months left of school and you’re probably going off to continue being amazing at some college in some big city a million miles away—‘cause that’s my luck—but I’m willing to work with that. I want to drive those million miles to give you flowers and hold your hand, kiss you, listen to you complain about your bad days, hear you brag about your good ones, kill all the bugs you’re afraid of—even though some of them freak me out, you make me feel brave, too—and just be all around disgustingly domestic with you. 
“And yes, that includes all the not so fun domestic stuff like fights—which we’ll get over, I’ll do just about anything, even cave first, if you give me those big, coy eyes of yours—and taxes. I want to do it all with you. If you’ll have me.” Eddie ended, eyes wide and just a little out of breath. 
There it was. He’d thrown it all out there, everything he wanted to offer (because he wanted to give you everything, even though it kind of terrified him).
And you—you were just staring at him, left to gape at him since you’d expected… well, you hadn’t really known what to expect since you usually ran from the consequences—be they good or bad—of your actions. 
He wanted to be with you. Holy crap, Eddie Munson wanted to be your boyfriend. Wanted to do boyfriend things like visit you at college and hold your hand. You’d thought, the whole time, it had just been you observing him. You never thought he’d be observing you, too. It all sounded too good to be true, you couldn’t really think, couldn’t really form words.
You didn’t have to, Eddie grew anxious, maybe even a little impatient despite having decided the moment you’d run away from him in the front yard that he’d chase after you for as long as it took him to get you to give him a chance.
He found himself blurting out his strongest desire, “Can I kiss you?”
This was it, you were faced with another opportunity, and this one was the actual last opportunity you had to tell him how you feel, without any anonymity. No more hiding, no more running.
“Yeah,” you breathed out and he was on you before you’d even finished saying that singular word, his surprisingly soft lips pressing desperately against yours as his hands moved to frame your face, one of his thumbs stroking along your cheek.
Your eyelids fluttered shut as you returned the kiss and just like that, what he intended to be a simple but firm kiss, turned into your lips moving against each other, a little wet and enough to have Eddie want to pop his leg up like in the fucking movies.
The only reason he kept himself from introducing his tongue to yours like he so badly wanted to was the sounds of encouragement around him; cheering and hollering. You broke away, having also heard your peers whooping and wolf whistling, to hide your face in his chest, bashfulness returning full force.
Eddie laughed and kissed the top of your head, unable to contain his grin and joy. He definitely wasn’t used to this, more accustomed to jeering, not cheering. A couple of people even clapped him on the shoulder.
“You know what, I think they’re rooting for us, sweetheart.”
You pulled away just enough to look up at him, offering a small, pleased smile of your own.
“They’re not the only ones.”
Well, he had to give you some tongue for that one. The cheering and sounds of excitement got louder as he did.
—  You hadn’t walked into school hand in hand with Eddie when Monday came around—though you’d spent pretty much the entire weekend with him, driving around town, lounging around your room (he’d come in through your window) and making out—he hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting up in the parking lot and you weren’t offended in the slightest. While you wanted to see him, you appreciated the extra time to calm your excited nerves before you did. 
Heather ran up to you the second you made it to your locker, grin stretching from ear to ear. 
“I still can’t believe it. It didn’t even happen to me and I’m pinching myself because of how romantic it was!”
“Imagine how I feel,” You were all smiles as you turned the combination for your locker. But of course, since it was openly known as one of, if not, the shittiest of lockers in the school—having belonged to several wrestlers and football players before you, who’d evidently cared for it on the rough side—it didn't budge when you tugged at it.
You wouldn’t miss it when you graduated. 
With a sigh, you pulled the straps of your backpack off of your shoulders and handed it to Heather. Then, you yanked aggressively at the small locker handle. It was your routine though, so you knew it wouldn’t open then, either. It was only when you slammed your fist against it, after all the yanking, that it opened.
Roses immediately flooded out of it, piling onto the ground at your feet. You and Heather watched with open mouths, glancing at passersby, who also looked on in surprise, until your stuffed locker finally finished its floral avalanche.
“Like ‘em?”
You jumped up, and then internally scolded yourself for almost trampling a couple of your flowers. You carefully twisted around to face Eddie, who was leaning back against the row of lockers behind you, smug smirk on his handsome face.
“Yeah, what are all of these for?” You asked, still marveling at them as he pushed himself off the lockers to wrap his arms around your middle and press a kiss to the side of your head.
“I realized I never got to ask you to be my Valentine or give you flowers. So, I bought some Saturday morning,” They were on sale so he’d gone purposely overboard, “used my uncle’s collection of mugs as vases to keep them alive, then woke up at the asscrack of dawn this morning to get here before you did. I probably broke your locker even more, by the way. So, be my Valentine?”
“I’m pretty sure it was part of the terms and agreements of our relationship, but yes. I’ll be your Valentine.”
Eddie closed your locker for you, pressing his weight against it to make sure it was secure and no more roses would escape before he scooped up the ones that had fallen out, arranging them into a large bouquet which he handed to you, leaning in to give you a kiss.
You hummed happily against his lips, nose wrinkling in glee when you felt him smile.
Eddie let out a content sigh when you parted before glancing to his side at your gawking best friend.
“Hey, Heather.” Eddie wasn’t at all bothered by the audience. “Nice shoes.”
“Thanks! They’re new. You done sucking face?”
“For now,” he promised, then turned his attention back to you. “I’ll see you later, beautiful. I’ve got a test to barely pass. Gotta make sure I walk that stage with you.”
Eddie pinched your cheek, pressed another kiss to your forehead and rushed off down the hall. You’d barely locked eyes with Heather when Eddie came running back, taking your face in his hands as he muttered something about one more and gave you a kiss that had you a little shaky on your feet.
‘One more’ actually turned out to mean a couple more pecks before he really forced himself away, blowing you a kiss just as he disappeared around the corner.
“He’s whipped,” Heather stated.
“Pretty sure I’m falling in love with him.”
“That’s appropriate.” You both nodded before you turned to face your closed locker, arms full of sweet smelling roses. 
“. . .  You still need to get your books, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
Heather slid her arms through the straps of your backpack, over her front, so she could hold your flowers for you as you prepared to battle your locker again. It was totally worth it.
Eddie never ended up giving you your pen back, it’s the one he used to write love letters to you while you were away at college.  
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wolfjackle-creates · 9 months
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Ghost!Robin Arc 2 Part 1
Happy WIP Wednesday! Ghost!Robin was the clear winner of last week's poll. Check out this week's poll if you want a say in what gets posted next. For any newer followers who aren't aware, the entire dinner scene has been written. I'm still working on getting it cross posted to AO3, though. That's going to be my next focus (once I finish editing the last chapter of The Two Ghost Motel, my EctoImplosion fic).
Story Summary: Jazz and Jason have been dating for a while. Long enough that it's time to meet the families. So a dinner at Wayne Manor is set up. Danny took great pains to manage all his Ghost King responsibilities so nothing ghostly would interrupt the meal.
But he wasn't expecting to see the ghost of the dead Robin hanging off Jason's shoulders.
First, Previous
Word Count: 1.4k
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Jason stared at the ceiling and counted his breaths. Next to him, Jazz’s breathing evened out as she slipped into sleep. Every time he let his mind wander, he saw the ghost grinning back at him. Signing with Bruce and Dick. Hugging Alfred.
Trying to take back his place in the family.
And of course everyone responded well to him! Bruce always hated the ways he’d changed since his death. And the ghost looked to be everything Jason had once been. Green shaded his vision and he grit his teeth.
A glance at Jazz, her face soft in sleep, made him let out a quiet breath and ease his way out of bed. A light in the living room proved he wasn’t the only one awake and, for a moment, rage burned hot in his chest. Why did Jazz’s brother have to come to Gotham and fuck everything up?
But he pushed that thought away. Danny hadn’t broken anything. Just revealed that Jason was even more broken than they had thought.
He stepped into the light and froze again when he saw the ghost sitting in front of Danny. The two looked over at him, silent.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he grunted.
Danny huffed a laugh. “It’s a lot. Especially if you haven’t grown up around this stuff.”
Jason glanced back at the ghost and felt the pits rumble under his skin once more. They hadn’t been this active in years. Not since well before he’d met Jazz.
But there was a ghost who looked like him, was him if Danny was to believed, and he was trying to take over Jason’s spot in the family.
He let out an angry huff of air.
Only for the ghost to roll his eyes and sign for him to get over himself.
Jason was throwing a punch before he was even aware, only to almost fall on his face when his hand passed right through the figure. Who decided to point and laugh at him.
Jason scowled and made his way to the window. “I’m going out. I’ll be back eventually.”
“That… might not be a good idea.”
He paused, one foot on the window frame, and asked, “Why the fuck not?”
“It’s just… Robin’s tied to you. He can’t be too far from you and with the power I gave him, I don’t think he can turn invisible again yet.”
Jason growled and pulled himself back from the window and slammed it shut. He glared at the ghost. “Why the fuck do you have to come in and ruin my life now, just when things are starting to work out?”
The ghost, of course, glared back and signed that Jason had ruined his existence first by pushing their family away. All the while, he was making angry-sounding chirps and trills that had Jason bristling even more.
Then Danny was between them, holding out his arms. It felt like something was pushing down on his anger, trying to ease the pits away. He tensed, not trusting the feeling even as he couldn’t help but give in.
“Okay,” said Danny. “Clearly there’s more strong feelings going on here than I first expected. So, um, should I start explaining what I suspect now or should we wait for Jazz to wake up?”
Jason sat on the edge of an armchair, still tense, and waved him on. “I want to know what’s going on.”
Danny nodded. “So I’m no doctor. We’ll have to go to the yetis for real answers, but I can start with the basics.”
“Yetis?” Jason couldn’t help but ask.
Danny blushed. It tinted his skin green. He’d blushed red earlier, what did the change mean? “The yetis of the Far Frozen,” said Danny. “They’re the doctors I mentioned earlier. Their leader is named Frostbite and he’s been helping me out since, like, six months or something after I died. They’re the experts in part-dead, part-living biology simply by taking care of me. I don’t even think the fruitloop knows as much as them, no matter how much he likes to pretend.”
Jason closed his eyes and took a breath. Sometimes talking to people not trained in giving reports by Batman was a test of patience. He decided to let the fruitloop comment go. It didn’t sound like it’d be relevant to what he wanted to know—at least not yet. Maybe he could find out more and get a second opinion after meeting these Yetis. “So not only will you be taking me to another dimension, you’ll be taking me to a place called the Far Frozen where I’ll be looked at by yetis.”
Danny shrugged. “Yeah, basically. Jazz mentioned you liked to read. If you like, I could take you to the Ghost Writer’s lair after. He’s got a library that contains every book ever written and many that never got published. I’m not allowed in it after an incident the year I died, but he likes Jazz so I’m sure he’d let you in if you promised not to damage any of his books.”
Now Jason was staring for an entirely different reason. There was a place like that? That he could just go to?
A questioning trill made his attention snap back to the ghost and he tensed again.
“Yeah, Robin,” said Danny. “You, too, of course. Can’t bring Jason somewhere and not you, after all! Especially since you’ll both have to be present for the medical examination.”
Jason grit his teeth and forced himself to not flinch at Danny’s use of the name “Robin.” He refused to take his gaze away from Jazz’s brother and ignored the sounds the ghost was making. “When will we go?” asked Jason.
“Soon as Jazz wakes up, if you want. No reason not to. And there’s a few things I’ll have to do in the Realms anyway. I was expecting to be away a single night, not however long this”—he gestured between Jason and the ghost—“will take.”
“But they can fix me, right?” asked Jason. He needed the answer to be yes. That ghost couldn’t be allowed to ruin the fragile peace he’d established with his family or the life he wanted to start with Jazz.
To his frustration, Danny just shrugged. “I’m not a doctor, Jason. I don’t know what they’ll find when they examine you. But they’ll know more than anyone else in either this dimension or the Realms.”
“But you have suspicions.”
“I do.” Danny took a breath. “Remember the sensor? Actually, let me just pull it up now.” He rummaged through his bag and pulled it out.
Jason made an annoyed grunt at the delay, but didn’t say anything as the seconds dragged on while Danny turned it on.
After what felt like ages but was really less than a minute, Danny moved closer so Jason could see the screen.
“See, here’s me.” Danny pointed to a bright orange blob on the screen. “And that’s you, he pointed to a mostly purple blob, half as bright as Danny. But mixed through the purple were shoots of orange and blue. The three shades turned mostly orange as they extended from his body to a mostly blue shape. But orange and purple twined as inextricably through the ghost as it did through Jason. Danny pointed to the blue. “And that’s Robin. You’re mostly purple which means you’re liminal. And a brighter purple than I’ve ever seen outside of Jazz and my closest friends. Robin is mostly blue which marks him as an unknown ghost. I’ll be updating the system soon so he shows up as a friendly, known ghost. But what’s interesting is this part between you. You’re connected by ectoplasm that most closely mimics halfa ecto. And there’s currently only three known halfas in existence.”
“You think we’re a halfa, like you.”
“Either that or you have the potential to be a halfa. But, really, we’ll need to go to Frostbite to know for sure.”
“I just want him gone.” Jay would argue to a second grave that it wasn’t a whine, but he was glad none of his siblings were here. Or Jazz.
The ghost let out a series of angry trills and signed at him. Which Jason easily ignored by simply closing his eyes and cradling his face in his hands as he worked on forcing back the pits.
“I don’t think it’s going to work that way, I’m afraid,” said Danny, echoing Jason’s worst fears.
-----
Next
Jason is having A Time™️. Will it get better?
I've finally gotten around to making a Subscription Post for this fic, so this will be the last update I do the tag list for. Especially since it's been so long since I've updated, I feel kinda bad tagging all of you! But if you still want update notifications, please check out the subscription post.
Tag List Part 1:
@addie-lover-of-stories @justwannabecat @gin2212 @amercurio @regonold @overtherose @readerzj @sjrose1216 @echoednonny @deeterzz @blu-lilac @number-one-jew @rowanaway-fromthisbs @vythika96 @tired-yet-awaken @themirrorghost @emeraldcorpral @all-mights-asscheeks @darkhinauniverse @blep-23 @phandomhyperfixationblog @larkcoe1 @thegatorsgoose @job-ross-the-second @britcision @lenacraft @bubblemixer @androgynouslordofescapism @purefrickingspite @leftmiraclechaos @lizisipancardo @starlight-sparks @miraculousandmore @gildedphoenix @sometimesthingsfallapart @letmesayfuxk @phoenixcatch7 @skulld3mort-1fan @abaowo @dhampir-princess @idkmrpianoman @sarina-elais @ballzfrog-blog @undead-essence @spookytragedyshark @flyingpansaurus @akintoabitch @marivictal @8-29pm @justreadingthefanfics @happybear135 @kisatamao @spoopyspoony @adorablechaos @sara0055 @screamingtofillthevoid
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flowerandblood · 6 months
Text
ONE YEAR OF FLOWER&BLOOD
✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙
Exactly one year ago I posted my first chapter of the My Best Friend series. Nowadays I think it's something awful and I don't even try to edit it because I'd have to write everything from scratch, but I've left it for people who feel attached to the story. I remember getting about six likes and one comment on the first day and that huuuuge interest made me eager to create chapter 2 and then all the others.
I remember the excitement with which I waited and then replied to comments, not believing that people were actually waiting for the next chapter. At the time I was literally not following anyone, which was good because I wasn't comparing myself to anyone.
Eventually I felt I was ready to try writing other series and a few were successful enough that I decided to stay here permanently and create because it made me happy. Up to that point, everyone had been very kind to me and I started following more and more blogs, wanting to feel part of the fandom, to make friends with everyone. Now I know that was the biggest mistake I made.
Seeing things that didn't interest me, fanfic's whose way of writing couldn't draw me in, I felt frustrated, while at the same time fearing that if I stopped following someone, that person would see it as an affront. At the same time, The Impossible Choice, my biggest project until The Fall from the Heavens (which I'm currently editing and re-editing, while inserting on AO3), began to be written.
Just when I thought I had reached the pinnacle of my abilities (which wasn't true), I also started to clash with anonymous hate messages, probably the worst of which were those vilifying me and my husband, and those regarding my one-shot with Micheal Gavey. I know now that taking it personally and getting involved was my big mistake, and the fandom was shaken by drama that got out of hand.
I was a few steps away from deleting my blog at the time, but my husband talked me out of the idea (thankfully, as my stories aren't saved anywhere else − I'm only now moving them to AO3).
That's when I first realised that some people here I don't even like, and they probably don't like me. I wondered, why are we following each other then? Why are we pretending to have any courtesy? It was only later that I realised that to be considered someone's friend, you have to reblog their work and preferably agree with them even when they write hurtful things.
Since I've depleted my circle of those I follow to about 20 people, since I've blocked dozens of people and tags, there's been blissful silence (with the exceptions of when I write about behaviour in the fandom that I find toxic and someone accuses me of causing drama, but I'm used to it now). I've also never written happier than I do now.
Ideas come to me on their own, I don't feel uptight about what other big people will think of me, whether they reblog it, approve of it or not. I don't give a shit and life is beautiful! Although I can be emotionally unstable, I'm only 70 people short of crossing the next milestone of 3,000 followers, and that's BIG for me. It amuses me that I keep getting messages that someone is going to block me or stop following me, and you guys keep coming. It's gratifying.
I'm going to keep writing for you guys, and I'm sure during season two you'll also see my posts describing my impressions after the episodes in which I hope to involve my husband. I'll also keep you updated here on how I'm doing with my book I'm creating in my private life.
Apreciation
@ewanmitchellcrumbs
Ange. I know that sometimes I'm fucked up, but I want you to know that you've made this place so much more bearable for me that I can't imagine it without you. What I appreciate most about you is that you can talk and discuss, that you always try to understand the other side, that you are empathetic, warm and kind. I feel that, like friends in everyday life, we can also tell each other about things we disagree about, and there are not many people like that here.
On top of that, you are very talented and your stories are always a pleasure to read, even when they are short, you are able to build the plot and atmosphere perfectly, something I have always admired. Thank you for every kind word and understanding.
I still remember your first message to me via ask, referring to the fact that I didn't want to write a pairing with a mermaid because someone else was writing about it at the same time. My heart melted then, it was so nice!
@targaryenrealnessdarling
Liz, Queen of Angst! Your calmness and composure puts me in awe. You're disgustingly talented when it comes to writing and you have a super-sweet personality. When you started following me I began to squirm with delight, and when you started reblogging my stuff? My goodness!!!
@persephonerinyes
You've been engaging and reblogging my stories for as long as I can remember. Always involved, your thoughts make me smile. Thank you for being with me for so long!
@zenka96
You've been here with me since the dawn of time. You know that I love you. Your support from the very beginning really makes me feel like I have a friend here.
@huramuna
I am so proud of you! I remember your asks when I wrote Glass Cuts Deepest, your illustrations for me and your uncertainty about whether you should start writing yourself. I'm so happy for you and that you are so successful! You deserved it.
@black-dread & @aegonx
You are my favourite gif makers. Your work always leaves me in awe, you are amazing! I know how much work you put into it and somehow you make even the worst lit scenes look wonderful!
@summerposie; @0eessirk8; @melsunshine; @immyowndefender; @bellaisasleep; @kckt88; @thedamewithabook; @happinessinthebeing; @queenofshinigamis; @travelingmypassion; @mefools; @fan-goddess; @toodlesxcuddles; @ammo23; @troublesomesnitch; @mariahossain; @out-of-life; @apothe-roses; @heavenhatesme; @whitearemydarkestnight; @liv-cole; @blackswxnn; @echos-muses; @watercolorskyy; @at-a-rax-ia; @tssf-imagines; @snh96; @hiatuswhore; @exitpursuedbyavulcan; @darylandbethfanforever9; @the-dendrophile-bookdragon; @opheliaas-stuff @zaldritzosrose
Your comments and reblogs make me want to keep writing. You make me laugh, you comfort me and you support me. I know I'm definitely forgetting someone, but I want you to know that I love everyone who comments on my stories and there is nothing better for me than responding to your reactions and questions! I have known some of you for so many months that I truly consider you my good friends!
lottie-blue-star; aveatquevale-; aemondtargaryenwifey marvelescvpe; alphard-hydraes-blog; herejusttostan; li0nn3stuff; alexandrawho; vilmakamunen; angelinap09; theloveablestargirl; rose-blue-19; xxxkat3xxx; flosaureum; mandiiblanche; librawh0re; jasminecosmic99; ivvypg; rojocarnation; killmanduh; tokkiiidoll; wolfdressedinlace; angelofvivianne; nina2697; starwarsgirlsimmer1; katsucker; ipostwhtifeel; aemondsdelight; ilswemoon; tigrigri; pasta-rask; roselibrary; lystargs; gemini-mama; nikstrange; tempo-rary-fix; coffeeobsessedtrencher; gwuinivyre; dreamerbythewayx; diiickbrainn; mothmankit
And everyone else I missed and whose icons I would recognize from afar. I know that you have been with me for many months, often in silence or communicating anonymously. Your silent support and presence is something wonderful for me, knowing that you have been with me for so long and read all my posts!
Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!
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Logan x Reader pt.13
So my mate and I took my little brother out and he was like guys can we watch Deadpool/Wolverine so I watched it a fucking 3rd time
Upon my 3rd time watching I'm disappointed that Origins!Wade/Deadpool wasnt with the Deadpool core
And also I've realised how much dialogue I've like messed up 🤣🤣 thank y'all for sticking with me for chapters 1-3, if I ever post this on AO3 I'll have to spend years editing
This is like a part 1 of 2, the chapter was getting really long sorry
<<Part 12 Part 14>> Masterlist
The phone buzzed next to your head causing you to jolt upright.
You grumbled, eyes half open, patting the bed in hopes to stop the infernal noise.
It was your alarm, the one you had set to get up and go. Only you had set it when you didn't have to spend half the night rearranging your room.
“Morning sunshine.” Logan's voice made you turn. Where was he? He was normally right next t- right. He wasn't here. He was heading towards Nebraska.
“Logan?” You muttered, eyes barely blinking open.
“Hello baby.” He purred.
“Hi.” You smiled, God, his voice could just ease you back to sleep.
“It's pretty early for you to be up.” There was the tiniest echo to him.
“Where are you?” You pulled the phone closer, clearing the morning voice out of your throat.
“On route.” He revved the engine.
“Y-you're on your bike?” You squeaked. “Logan! That's dangerous!”
“It's fine, bub. You're on Bluetooth.”
“It's too early for me to even begin to learn what that is.”
He chuckled, the noise warning your chest. “You're fucking cute.”
“No, you're fucking cute.”
“Mm, wish I was.” He drawled, you could picture the smirk on his face.
Eventually you heaved yourself up and dragged your feet over to the drawers. Pulling out a suitable outfit. Some cycling shorts and a large shirt, no one would know it was Logan's but you.
You contemplated putting a bra on but you really couldn't be bothered with it, spending years in the Void with a broken one - snapped wires were a menace - you had grown accustomed to wearing what essentially was a sports bra so now as you looked at the padded cups they felt stuffy. The shirt was a thicker material - you think it was maybe loungewear? - it had long sleeves and a loose neckline where Logan had worn it.
Your hair was washed yesterday in preparation for today, wanting to look your best, so you didn't have to worry about looking scruffy. No, you looked comfortable.
You were put together well enough and when you looked in the bathroom mirror it was an outfit you would see other women wearing. Not that you cared. Maybe a little bit.
You stuffed your feet into some trainers, seriously debating sliders - you had thought socks and sandals were a big no no but the kids these days loved them - but decided on the trainers in case you needed to run. Preparing for some issue or display or anything.
You chucked your half full backpack over your shoulder, tossing a phone charger into it, and went to find the others.
As you opened the door Blade’s back was leaning against the frame.
“Fuck me!” You jumped, hand over heart. “Blade, you're actually going to kill me one day.”
He hummed. “Why has your bitch ass husband stolen my bike?”
“I did tell him not to.” You shut the door behind yourself.
“Mother fucker has a bike.” He tutted. “Ain't as pretty as mine.”
“Blade, I am sorry, I-” You shrugged, having no clue what to say. “He's an ass.”
“If he scratches it…”
“If he does, you have my permission to fight him.” Mock knighting him as you said 'permission'.
He laughed lowly. “We did fight once. Ended up on the same side. He gave me his coat.”
“Who were you fighting?”
“Some bloodsucker. Had an M name.”
Blade hadn't told you that. He hadn't mentioned he had once known a Wolverine. Not even when you had cried on his shoulder as Laura joined your party. You had mourned her, as well as the rest of your family, so seeing her alive and well really did mess with your psyche.
Laura's door opened to your left and she let out a surprised sound. “I was coming to see if you were awake.”
“Me and uncle Blade were just talking.”
“Anything interesting?” Her pupils fluttered between the two of you.
“A wolverine gave him a coat.” You repeated. “I didn't know he had met one.”
She crossed her arms. “Me neither.”
“I don't jabber like you.” He winked, a sly smile revealing his fangs.
You rolled your eyes and passed the man to knock at Gambit's door.
“Why are you up?” Laura asked Blade just in your earshot.
“Wanted to see you off.” He patted her shoulder. “Seeing less of you nowadays.”
She wormed her way into hugging him, not that he really resisted, and squeezed him. “It's strange being here.”
“I know.”
You wish you hadn't knocked at Gambit's door because the fucker opened it pulling your attention from them. “‘ey.” He nodded at you. “Who' ready for some drivin’?” Gambit ruffled your hair and shot passed you to the others. “Didn’ kno’ you'ere comin’.”
“I'm not.” Blade informed.
Gambit shrugged and tugged at Laura, “C’mon!”
You all trotted towards Logan's Jeep and climbed in. Your baby had the back row to herself and she had been clever enough to pack a small pillow in her bag.
Laura was wearing a Megadeth tee on top of a long sleeve with a pair of jeans. Gambit had opted for jeans as well but his seemed to be intentionally low waist. He'd paired it with a shirt that you're sure he had done a DIY crop job on.
All in all none of you looked like you were going to the same place but you looked good and you all felt comfy, all were able to decide what to wear. Not forced into the same outfit day in and day out. Laundry day in the Void was hilarious.
Everyone - bar Laura of course - had seen everyone else naked. You remember Magneto scoffing at yourself, Johnny and Gambit for sitting playing checkers in practically nothing, the odd sock and a ratty old shirt for modesty.
Y/N: setting off now x
You knew Logan would want to know so as Blade tapped the side of the car and Gambit pulled away from the curb you sent the text.
Your phone was sitting on your lap, Waze telling him where to go interrupting your playlist.
The Killers were your newest conquest. They were brilliant. You loved everything they performed, so dancy and fun!
Waze instructed you to get onto the highway you and Logan had had your hot steamy car sex and you had to fight the blush. If you were anywhere else people could've spotted you, well, they probably saw your car rocking… could you get a ticket for public indecency if they didn't have actual proof?
What if the car rocking was on camera?
“She's ‘sleep.” Gambit whispered next to you.
You turned back to see Laura spread out, sparko. “I hope she has fun at the Mansion.”
“Why wouldn' she?” He flicked the blinker on.
“I dunno, she hasn't been there.”
“Neither, chere.”
Gambit merged.
“Well, I know she had herself a Charles, I know he died in front of her. And yeah she's seen the one here for a millisecond, she had him look into her mind, but that's different. This will be informal, this will be- oh, I don't know.”
“You jus’ ‘ave to let things be things.” He shrugged. “You're worrying for her, when you don't need to. She strong. If she need you, she'll ask.”
You let that sit with you. He was right of course. She was tough and she would ask but since your little incident you were worried she had taken a step back. “It's just hard. We've lost so many people, I want to keep you all safe.”
“No such thing as safe.”
Again he was right. Say, right now, someone could have a brain aneurysm and crash their car into yours. There was literally no such thing as safe in a world of ever increasing variables. You, even, still entertained the notion that this was Cassandra toying with you.
“I don't think people give you enough credit, Remy.”
He chuckled. “Yo’ kno’ it serious when you use're my name.”
You laughed with him.
~~
The mansion came into view and you felt a nervous twinge in your stomach. “Laura baby.” You nudged her knee.
The girl cracked an eye and realised where you guys were. “We're here?”
“Yeah, love.”
She sat up and eagerly undone her belt.
“Laura, Gambit, this is the X-Mansion.”
The building was the same, there were slight differences in the foliage but it was eerie how exact everything was. You could see Colossus was standing like a statue at the door to greet you.
Gambit pulled up in front to the entry stairs.
He turned the car off and you all exited.
“Y/N, Laura, Remy.” Colossus greeted in kind. “Welcome, welcome.”
The three of you trotted up the stairs and into the front doors.
Fuck me, even the chandelier had it's one flickering bulb. This was your mansion. Your home. Your sanctuary.
//
“You needn't fear, Miss L/N.” Charles spoke above your head to your mother. “Y/N will be safe here.”
You could hear giggling to the left, giggling and stomping. There were kids having fun. Craning your neck you could see one kid floating mid air whilst the other had their hands extended.
They were using their powers… they were allowed to use their powers.
“Hey.” A feminine voice caught your attention. It was a young girl - a year or so older than you, maybe seventeen? - with bouncy ginger hair and a kind face. “You're new.” She spoke without moving her lips. “I'm Jean.”
“Y/N.”
The girl gave you a bright smile. “I was asked to show you your room.”
You turned back to your mother who was still engaged in conversation with Professor Xavier. She looked different. Her shoulders weren't sagging and her eyes seemed hopeful. She wanted you here. Wanted you to be safe and, well let's face it, she'd be safer without a fucked up child.
“You're not 'fucked up'.” Jean rolled her eyes. “You're just something new.”
Your eyes widened. “Can you hear my mind?”
“Yeah, sorry. I can't turn it off all the time.” She had genuine embarrassment splattered on face. “I don't mean to, I'm still practising.”
“Okay.” You nodded. “I'll try to keep my thoughts quiet.”
\\
The familiar sound of wheels pulled you from the memory. “Ahh.” Charles came into view. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
The others had clearly picked you as the spokesperson so you smiled. “Thank you for having us.”
“Of course.” His eyes crinkled with glee. “It was your home previously and apparently it hasn't changed. Would Laura and Remy care for a tour?”
The others looked at each other before nodding, unsurely.
“I'll call you both a guide.” He spoke before just sitting still. To an onlooker it would look rude, sarcastic, to say that and then sit motionless but you knew otherwise.
A girl with dead straight, long blonde hair and an unearthly feel to her sauntered into the entry. “I take Laura to Ellie and Yukio.” She spoke with a thick russian accent.
“Thank you kindly, Illyana.” Charles spoke over his shoulder.
You weren't 100% comfortable with Laura leaving but she had an eager expression on her face so you let her go with nothing more than a “call me if you need me.”
The two girls walked up the first flight of stairs, there were many in this labyrinth of an estate, and as they did they passed Rogue. She had darker skin than your Rogue but there was no mistaking that hair. Her hair was thick, voluminous and curly.
Her hips swayed as she strutted down the stairs. Adorned in ‘people clothes’ but looking every bit the X-Man she was.
“Y’all alright Sugar?” She placed her gloved hands on her hips. “I'm Anna Marie, they call me Rogue.”
“Remy LeBeau.” He bowed next to you. “They call me th’ Gambit.”
“Mmm. A Cajun, I can't wait to get some recipes outta you.” She waved him along, towards the right of the stairs and then disappeared underneath them to the kitchen.
Gambit clapped your shoulder before he jogged after her.
You were left with Charles. He was still smiling sweetly at you, it was a little unnerving.
“So…” You clapped your hands. “Who's my tour guide?”
“You don't need one, dear.” He told you simply. “You're free to explore, if you need me, call me.” He then whirled and zoomed off.
You were just left.
Again, to an onlooker it was rude. But maybe he knew you’d feel awkward paired with a X-Man. You would have to pretend to be in awe of the jet or the grounds or even just them. You knew a lot of these people but they had no clue you even existed.
If the TVA really went back and altered the reality was it still the same universe? How could they take their Logan out of it when he was the original Anchor being to the whole thing?
You pushed those thoughts aside and stomped through into one of the sitting areas.
It was large and decorated warmly. There were four sofas, three of which were in a square by the fire and the other was behind the one adjacent to the flames. There were coffee tables with board games and empty cups, messy bookshelves stacked high with trinkets and more games.
Two kids were playing chess, one had wings and the other was orange. Both were humanoid and young. Maybe 12?
//
You didn't care where you landed but you needed to sit by a fire. Stomping the light sleet off of your boots, you slipped out of your wet coat and scarf. Abandoning them on the floor - no one would be awake now - you rushed through into the first sitting available room. You flipped over the back of the sofa, face buried in pillows as your socks felt vague embers of warmth.
It was dangerous that it was still roaring but you didn't give a flying fuck.
“You alright bub?” A voice asked, opposite you.
You scrambled into a more presentable position and saw it was the new guy. What was his name? James? Jackson? Jonathan? It was definitely a J-Name.
He was sitting on the sofa opposite, in an X-Men hoodie and tracksuit bottoms, his feet were bare. The clothes led you to believe he had come from his bedroom.
“Yeah.” You nodded, hands outstretched to the flames. “Sorry, didn't realise anyone would be up.”
“It's alright.” He moved his hand to show that he was nursing a drink.
You questioned in disbelief, “is that bourbon?”
“Don't rat me out and you can have some.”
Now, that was an offer too good to pass up. “Sure thing. I saw nothing.”
He didn't have another glass so emptied the liquid into his mouth, wiped the rim and handed you a full glass. “Don't mind the-”
“It's fine.” After the day you had sharing a glass with a handsome man was nothing. “Working here I'm immune to any disease you could imagine.” You took a healthy swig, the liquid burning your throat. Immediately warming your insides. “I dunno if this is good stuff is but it's fucking strong. So cheers to that.”
He raised the bottle and took a gulp. You both sat in silence. After a while you had to shed your jumper, the heat making you sweat. He waited for you to fold your jumper before asking. “How long you been here?”
You did the mental maths. “Seven years.”
He hummed, the fire casting shadows that danced beautifully against his skin.
“Used to be everyone's favourite student, now I'm their favourite teacher.”
“Pretty thing like you, I'm sure you're right.” You had to pull your eyes away from him as he smirked. “What’d you teach?”
“Self defence.”
“Maybe I'll pop by.”
You took another sip. “You should. It'd be good to show the kids how to take down a bigger opponent.”
He sniggered. “It's a date.”
You prayed that the heat in your cheeks was from the fire.
“Why're you getting in so late?” One of his brows met his hairline. His hair was bonkers but endearingly cute, he looked like a little kitty cat. You wanted to see if it was as soft as you imagine.
You heaved a sigh. “I had to walk, the bike packed in.” Scott had loaned you his bike, drilling into you that you needed to refill it after using it. Well the fucker hadn't because it had conked out halfway through the journey.
The man opposite gave you a guilty smile. “Scott's?” You nod. “I might borrow it without his permission every now and then.”
You rolled your eyes. “So you're why I had to trek in the storm for 30 minutes. You owe me more than a drink Mr.”
“Logan.” He offered. Huh, you could've sworn it was a J-Name.
“Y/N.” You replied.
“I'll make it up to you Y/N. Somehow.”
\\
A buzz in your pocket centred you back to reality.
Logan: Picked up his scent a while back. He's walking in circles
Y/N: Why? X
Logan: Classic misdirection, maybe shield weren't so careful
Y/N: Just be safe baby x
Logan: Course
Logan: How's the mansion?
Y/N: Memory lane has nothing on this place x
Logan: That good?
Y/N: Think so… just remembered meeting Logan for the first time. We'd sorta been introduced before but actually talking was a while after
He had read the message but didn't reply immediately. Perhaps he had to put the phone away to track Victor?
Logan: I'm here if things get overwhelming
Y/N: I'm not gonna call you on a hunt, love x
Logan: You're allowed. No one else.
Logan: You have any sort of 'wobble', you call me. No tears without me knowing
Y/N: Okay x
Logan: I gotta go but I love you Y/N
Y/N: You more baby x
The kids kept giving you confused side eye so you carried on into the next room. Surely they had seen a random person before, your mansion had a new person daily.
//
“Big brother is watching you.”
“Please, I beg you, I will do anything. Please do not spoil this.” You begged. He had found you sitting on the floor in a small crevice, 1984 clutched in hand. “This is the only book the students haven't read. ‘did you like that part miss?’ no I haven't got to that part yet, Sanhu!”
“I won't.” His hands met his hips. “What are you doin’?”
“Isn't it obvious? I'm Hiding.” Your eyes scanned the room before you eased yourself up, Logan caught your hand and steadied you.
“Sorry to pull you from your spot.”
“It's okay, wasn't you I was hiding from.” You dogeared the page and closed the book. “They keep finding me. There's only so many inane questions I can stomach.”
Logan chuckled. “It's ‘cause half have a crush on you and the rest are trying to imitate ya.”
You scoffed. “I highly doubt that.”
“Bub, trust me.” He rolled his eyes at your expression. “Here.” He handed you a blank CD case. “I came to give you this, it's the band that sings Sexical.”
“Oh cool!” You accepted the CD and flipped it. It looked man-made; ‘She's an angel’, ‘fuel to run’ and ‘cream’ scrawled in Logan's messy scratch. “You made this?”
“There are some songs I don't think you'd like, so I thought I'd put the good ones together.” He shrugged, the wall behind you becoming interesting.
You opened the case to see he had thankfully written the band's name - Love/Hate - with the same marker on the disc.
“Well, thank you. I'll dig my Walkman out.”
Logan gave you a nod and stalked off.
~~
Christmas was wholly celebrated in the Mansion as there were those who couldn't return home. Storm and Jubilee had convinced you to help with the decorations and it took little to no convincing to get a certain gruff man to assist.
“Every year there's more.” You gestured to the decs.
Logan was leaning against the wall, he had helped you with the foil garlands, arms folded. “You love it.”
“Of course I do but taking it all down haunts me.” Last year it had taken four days to rid the Mansion of every last bit of tinsel. Angel had found a missed snowflake in the middle of June, it had fallen and landed on top of a portrait frame.
“If you had it your way, they'd stay up all year.”
“No.” You were adamant. “Halloween trumps Christmas.” Logan's brows rose to his hairline. “What? It's the superior holiday.”
“Wow, I knew you liked Halloween but hearing that from little miss kringle is something else.”
You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful shove. “Shut up.”
Logan caught your wrist and placed it back down to your side, pulling you closer as he did. “Don't start things you can't finish.”
“Oh, we all know I can take you.” You gave him a smug smirk, spurred on by his intoxicating gaze - there were flecks of green hidden in his dark eyes - you added, “And in a fight.”
Logan's eyes bugled yet they slipped to your lips and back up.
“Hey, tweedle Dee and Dum!” Ororo’s voice called. “I'm seeing a lot of gazing longingly into each other's eyes and not seeing a lot of decorating.”
You turned to see Storm standing at the opposite side of the room, box in hand, one brow raised.
“Gazing longingly?” Logan scoffed as you called out: “We needed a five minute break!” You gave a nervous chuckle at his response and the situation in itself before trotting over to Storm, Logan let your wrist go a second too late, causing another awkward laugh.
“You can't tell me this room isn't festive enough.” Your voice was slightly higher than usual, no one commented but you knew they knew.
“It isn't festive enough.” Storm deadpanned, handing you yet another box, she did crack a smile at your ‘wtf’ face. “This is the last one. I promise.”
You didn't believe her in the slightest but let her vacate the room as you opened the storage box. It was faux greenery, garlands and wreaths and mistletoe.
“Ooh, Logan look!” You presented the herb. “Poisonous to werewolves.”
Logan was still standing by the wall but took a couple steps forward to look. “Lucky we don't have any.”
“Yet.” You added. “With all us mutants it wouldn't surprise me if we got a Vamp or an Undead being. I mean you're pretty grizzly, not far off a wolf.”
A familiar smile settled onto Logan's face, it was the same one he wore whenever you went on a tangent. You suppose being the silent watcher he was, he must be used to people yapping around him, hopefully you didn't annoy him too much.
You tried to refocus. “Where should we put it?”
“Depends on who you want to catch out.”
“Well, Jean won't tell me that her and Scott have a thing… but they totally have a thing. Maybe we try to catch them.”
“‘We’ yeah?”
“Are you backing out of my incredibly complex and well thought through plan?”
“Never.”
~~
“Get out!” You screamed. “Go!”
The children behind you sprinted. They didn't wait for another order.
The humans had decided that they'd start out their New Year by killing children.
Your fields held strong against their bullets but you had known they would - if they could last against Adamantium they could last against a few bullets - creating bubbles of safety.
You were defense. Always on the lookout, always trying to hold back the onslaught so that the others could either fight or flee.
The footsteps behind you were out of earshot, meaning the children had got to safety. An underground tunnel would get them to a safe point. They would wait there for an adult.
You had done many drills and tests but you never thought this was a possibility. Fucking ridiculous!
You made a huge bubble and shoved the humans back, most of them being flung out of windows, glass shattering everywhere, but some hit the walls being knocked unconscious.
You were in bed, meaning that you had no shoes on so you tried to avoid blood, glass, bullet shells and any other debris as you examined each room.
You needed to get back to the others, you were protecting them from afar when a child screaming interrupted your flow. Logan's eyes had made contact with yours from his position in the garden and he gave you a few frantic nods. You didn't need permission but it was good that one of the team knew you weren't hit. If your fields suddenly vanished without explanation they might think the worst.
Shouting across the hall severed the silence and you jumped right back into the action. Jogging down the corridor, keeping low as you passed exposed areas.
Entering the room, you found nothing. It was just some of the teenage bunks. There were no children, no enemies, nothing.
Where had the shouting com-
Hands wrapped around you and you struggled, snarling as they strapped something to your neck. You tried to shove them off and create a field to prevent the rope? from winding around your neck. To stop it getting tighter.
No.
It wasn't a rope.
It was cold.
Metallic.
Why weren't your fields working?
“Not so strong now, cutie?” A masculine voice spoke from behind, he circled you and gripped your jaw with one hand. “It's a shame you're one of them, you're fucking hot.”
“Is that a gun in your pocket?” You sassed. “Wouldn't want mommy to know you liked a freak like m-” He yanked your hair, making your neck click as he pulled you backwards.
“Tsk, tsk. A girl like you should know what comes out of your mouth should be prettier than what goes in.”
You spat in his face.
“That's it, bitch.” He struck you across your face - releasing his grip on your hair - with such force you landed on your knees.
He looked unimpressed as he stalked over to you and yanked on your arm, dragging you along with him. You fought back of course but felt inadequate without your powers. What sort of technology did they posses to force the Mutant gene into submission?
He groaned at the top of the stairs before you were tossed down them.
Your vision was blurry when you came to, he was dragging you again, bruised and aching. You could feel warmth flow from your hairline, down to your eyebrows, also leaking from your nose. Moving your arm was painful but you wiped your nose and found a blurry sticky red substance on your hand.
“Oit!” He yelled.
You were yanked down another few steps - each one sending a new jolt of pain through your body - but as you felt the floor it was hard. Small cold stones met your bare legs.
Outside. You were outside.
“You Muties, stick together right?” He presented you, slumped on the floor, squinting up at him. “Sorry, one second.” The man threaded his hand back into your hair and pulled you up, deciding kneeling wasn't good enough and forced you to stand on throbbing ankles. “What's her mutant name? You all have one, right?”
Your eyes focused and refocused trying to make out who was on the field. Storm was easy to see because of her hair but you could also see Hank and Scott. You knew Logan was there earlier but couldn't see him now.
“What? No one wants to play now?” He turned your head towards him and gave you an over exaggerated frown.
You had just enough sense in you to spit in his face again.
“That's it you fu-” he didn't finish his sentence because he was too preoccupied with punching you straight in the face.
You, again, landed on the ground but this time you were giggling.
“What's so funny?”
“You got-” You wheezed, closing your eyes. “Mutant spit in your mouth.”
He turned back to the others, addressing them. “I was going to bargain with her life but she's pissing me off, so I'm just going to kill her instead.” He chuckled. “Uh-uh-uh Cyclops. You can't kill a human under the new bill.”
“What?” Scott voiced the question you all thought.
“No mutant can kill a human, not even in self defense. Starting on January 1st. It's too bad for your lo-” He cut himself off with a choked gargle.
“No, it's too bad for you.” Logan taunted. “You had 6 minutes.”
The clamp on your neck fell away and hands were on your cheeks.
“Y/N?”
You tried to open your eyes but it was agony. “Hey, bub.”
“That's my line.”
~~
Laying on the grass had become somewhat a passtime of yours now. For some reason you found comfort in the field.
When you had nightmares of that sadistic man and the bill and the humans and everything in your life, coming outside and laying on the dewy ground recentered you.
Charles and Erik had called a truce and began battling political opponents instead of each other. The bill was bullshit. It had passed and been withdrawn within a month.
It was odd classing Erik and Raven as enemies again when you knew ultimately you wanted the same goal but you would have to get used to it.
“I thought I'd find you out here.” You extended your neck to see Logan standing behind you.
“Hey, Lo.”
He collapsed next to you, sitting with one leg bent, his elbow resting on the knee. “You alright?”
You'd been the only mutant in the Mansion so far to have a collar fitted around your neck. You'd been the only one truly defenceless. Truly useless!
“I like the stars.”
He hummed, falling into a weighty silence with you.
There was no denying the two of you had grown closer, hell, he was probably your best friend at this point.
The two of you were paired together in training drills and in your lessons because you could really fight each other. Neither holding back. Your power could stop his. You were evenly matched.
He had gifted you more CDs and you had let him borrow a David Bowie LP. If he found you laying on the sofa reading he would sit next to you and keep you warm. He was so warm. Once, he even read to you. Your eyes were so tired and he plucked the book from your hands and finished the chapter.
You would never tell anyone, least of all him, but that was one of your fondest memories. His voice was so soothing and, bless him, he had even made up voices for the characters.
Logan always sat next to or opposite you as you ate, he was usually the main reason you ate, saving you a plate or bowl.
He was… well, like every other person with eyes here you'd formed a crush on him. He was just so kind. So generous. And it didn't hurt that he looked like that.
“I was thinkin’,” He started. You looked over, expecting him to still be sitting but he had moved. He was lying next to you, watching you. His nose inches from yours. “Tomorrow, I'll take you to to the bar I like.”
He was known for sneaking off premises at night. Coming home smelling like booze and smoke.
“The bar you like?” He had never confirmed he went to a bar - he was oddly secretive about certain aspects - but you all knew, it was something for him to admit it.
“It's a real shit hole but it's cheap and close.”
Your lips upturned at his blunt response. “Okay. You and me tomorrow. It's a date.”
“It is.” His face was serious. “I am taking you on a date.”
Oh.
“Me?” You were flabbergasted. There were goddesses like Jean and Ororo and Raven and Psylocke knocking about and he wanted to take you on a date?
“There was only so much rolling about in the simulator we could do before I asked you out.” He joked but you could see an undercurrent of fear in his eyes.
“Yeah. Okay.” Your cheeks were warm. “I'd really like that.”
His cheeks pinkened and he looked up at the stars trying to suppress his smile. “Good.”
You felt his hand intertwine in yours and tried so hard to act natural. Tried to keep your breath steady and appear calm and collected.
“So, uh, what does one wear to a real shit hole?”
Logan's shoulders shook with his laugh.
~~
It wasn't easy to take things slow when you lived and worked with the person.
Logan was ever the gentleman and gave you space but it was a strange mixture of wanting to be with him platonically and wanting to be with him romantically.
He was your best friend. You wanted to talk to him about your newest date but you also needed to act cool and casual.
You failed miserably at both of those things.
In fact you almost had a heart attack when he kissed your forehead for the first time.
He was yet to actually kiss you.
Which was good because it meant he liked you enough to listen and wanted to be around you without getting into your pants but you wanted him in your pants.
Which brought you to the present.
You were currently standing outside of his room - having knocked - waiting for a response.
“Lo, it's me.” You called through the wooden door.
“Come in.” He answered, slightly muffled.
You entered the room, he wasn't in view but the door leading to the bathroom was open, and flopped onto his bed. Letting out an exaggerated sigh - definitely not to inhale his smell - you spoke against his duvet, “I'm bored.”
“Yeah?” His footsteps got closer and you lifted your head and took a double take.
The fucker was glistening, a towel sitting far too low on his hips. His torso was gorgeous, he looked spectacular. He had strong pecs and chiselled abs, dusted with a coating of soft hair and there was one vein that disappeared into the towel that you ached to lick.
“Bub?” When your forced your eyes onto his face you saw a cocky grin.
“Yes?” You blunk, trying to figure out if he had spoken anything else. How long had you been ogling him?
A droplet of water fell from his hair and ran down his neck, passed his pecs and journeyed further- no! Don't look again.
Do not get caught twice!
“It should be illegal to look like you.” You spoke to your hands. They were resting on the duvet where your face had been.
“Kettle. Pot. Black.” One of his hands settled onto the towel, he usually had a belt to hold, so the movement could've been innocent but with the way his eyes scanned you, you knew it wasn't.
You eased yourself up, sitting on your folded legs and stared at him. Maybe you shouldn't. No either way you win. Either you call his bluff or... “You got a condom?”
The smile could've split his face in half, he licked his teeth, walking closer to the bed. Leaning down to open his bedside table he presented you with an unopened pack.
“Just for you.”
“I feel so special.”
Logan's right hand met your cheek and his thumb caressed the flesh. He was taller than you in this position so he lent down to kiss you. He was slow about it, giving you time to back out, but once his lips met yours he fastened the pace.
Your hands didn't know where to rest. One was fiddling with his chest hair whilst the other clawed at his back. You didn't want to be the one who disrobes their partner after less than thirty seconds of kissing but there was no robe. Can't disrobe someone who isn't wearing one, right? A mere piece of fabric barely covered him.
Oh my god.
He was naked.
Naked under the towel.
Fuck.
His tongue brushed against your bottom lip and you eagerly allowed access. Logan's chest rumbled, vibrating your hand, and you pulled back eyes wide.
“Do that again.”
He complied and you kissed your way along his chest. Sometimes you forgot how animalistic you were. How primal you could be.
Your cavewoman brain liked big strong man making noise.
Logan's nose nuzzled your neck, kissing your jaw and he ran his tongue across your jaw downwards to your collar bone.
It was almost embarrassing how wet you were but the steadily growing length poking your thigh made you feel better.
“I can smell you.” He ran his nose by your neck again. “Can always smell you. You're so sweet.”
“Always?” That better not be a hint.
“I know if you've been in a room.” He nipped your cheek. “I'm tuned into your frequency but now,” his voice deepened. “I can smell here.” The touch was phantom but his fingers were where you wanted him most.
You only had on a baggy shirt and ratty pj shorts so you were quick to slip out of the shorts, tossing them behind your shoulder.
“Towel.” You ordered.
“I-” He paused, conflict flashing behind his eyes. “If we start I'm not su-”
“There is nothing that could make me not want this.” You didn't know how else to say it. "I would do a lot of bad things to do a lot of bad things to your body."
He smirked and allowed you to tug on the towel, it loosening, revealing his dick.
Oh, it was fucking fantastic.
You couldn't help but kiss his abdomen, dragging your tongue along the low vein. Wrapping a hand around his length you kissed the tip and he shuddered.
“You're beautiful.” You spoke to his dick, licking the slit.
“Take your shirt off.”
You grumbled, ignoring him, and licked the underside from shaft to head.
“Y/N. Shirt. Off.” His hand held your neck, halting your movements - you were stopped, your tongue poking out just shy of him.
Pulling up you made a show of removing the shirt and his hands were instantly on you. One was at your hip whilst the other kneaded your breast. He dipped his head and captured a nipple between his teeth, making your spine arch.
“You, er, you experienced?” He questioned releasing your nipple from his lips, his eyes gazing up at you.
Why did it feel like he was embarrassed to ask?
“I've had a couple not great fucks,” You shrugged. “Prefer my own company.”
“That's about to change.” He captured your lips again.
~~
You were snuggled up in your bed watching the credits roll on a VHS you'd finally got your mitts on.
Logan slipped into your room and under the covers, wrapping a hand around your waist and dipping himself to kiss your cheek.
It was wet. Why was your cheek wet?
“Y/N?” What had happened?! Who did he have to kill?
“Spock fucking died!” You explained, frantically wiping your cheeks. “He just like sacrificed himself?”
If you had known that would happen you wouldn't have watched the movie at this particular time of the month.
Logan gave you a sympathetic noise and rolled you onto your spine, kissing your nose.
“It's okay.”
“No, it isn't.” Your eyelashes were wet but your eyes were no longer glossy. "Jim is alone, now."
"We'll get through this together."
Logan's palm found your abdomen and he kept his hand there, warmth radiating through easing some of the pain. “That's really nice.”
“I always get a fright each month when I can smell blood on you.” He nuzzled his face into your neck, placing delicate kisses to your flesh.
“How was the mission?” Your lips grazed his ear.
He had told you that your neck was his favourite part of you because it smelt the most. He was eager to mark and claim your as his own because it mingled the scents and apparently that was amazing. Logan seemed to get off on your scent alone so when there were hints of him on you he was wild.
“Distracted.” He sucked the junction between neck and collar bone. He had been chosen because of his unique sense of smell. It was a gift that he could track so easily. “Could smell you on my fingers, I didn't want to get bad guy blood on my hands because it would fuck it up. You'd smell wrong.”
Your body twitched as his tongue soothed the sore flesh. “That why it took longer?”
“Hmm.” He produced a small navy box from his jeans pocket, laying it on your chest. “This is why.”
You frowned but opened the lid to see the most beautiful pair of earrings imaginable. Diamond studs, each with three individual chains dangling, covered in more diamonds.
“O-Logan?”
His face was buried into your neck for an entirely different reason now. It was fucking adorable that this big strong man still blushed around you. “Was gonna wait til your birthday but…”
“Thank you, Lo.” You kissed where you could reach on his cheek. “They're beautiful.”
“I brought them because…” He pulled back, his hazel eyes studying your face. “I want to take you out more. Take you to places that aren't natural or manmade disasters. I want to show you off to the world. I like having you on my arm, I really want to show you off. I think we should go out more. You and me just see the world, maybe? Travel? And, well, I've also realised that I fucking love you.”
Neither of you had quite admitted that yet. There were close calls where you almost did after a bad mission but it felt wrong to tell him on your deathbed. Felt like you'd cheat him. He deserved more than a ‘hi and bye’.
“I love you, too. I think I might even love you more, Logan.” Your fingers stroked his temple, gruff hair itching your hand.
He let out a sigh of relief and you almost laughed because how could you not replicate the feelings? Then you considered the way he rambled. How much this must have meant to him, he always wanted to do it right; to make sure everything was perfect for you but it was when he stuttered and said things out of order that you really saw how much he cared. He was unable to form literate sentences because he loved you so deeply. That was true, real love. Not the smooth talking, lady killers in the movies.
“No you don't.” He pecked your forehead.
~~
“Who wants to see me kick Mr Logan's ass?” You cockily placed your hands on your hips.
Logan was standing next to you, hands in his hoodie pockets.
He was wearing matching grey sweatpants and you were dying. How did grey sweats look that good?
“He can't die.” Marcus - a little shit - sassed. “What's the point in fighting someone that can't die?”
“Well, self defence isn't about killing.” You set him straight. “It is about protecting yourself. Being able to keep yourself safe in this world is the most powerful thing you'll ever learn.” Hopefully, they would never know the hopelessness you felt when that collar locked around your neck, hopefully they could live in peace. Live freely.
Marcus just rolled his eyes.
“She's right, kid.” Logan backed you up. “There's a lot to fighting that isn't killing. I've been around a long time, I'd know.”
“Then shouldn't you fight someone more evenly matched?” He raised a brow. You knew this was coming. He had grown up in a very strict household. His parents were cultists, if he hadn't been a mutant he would've been the next leader. Shame. Women were beneath men in his eyes - which wasn't necessary his fault and you were trying to carefully show him but the fucker was pissing you off.
“She's kicked my ass more than any other opponent.” Logan shrugged playfully but you could see the twitch of his jaw.
“That's because you fight often. It's a matter of quantity and not quality.”
“Okay.” You clapped your hands before the kid would get on Logan's nerves. “Who wants to show me their skills?”
The lesson went smoothly after that. You saw a lot of potential in Erica and begged Winston to keep practising.
Marcus refused to show you - or anyone - his ability.
You had assumed it was because ‘mutant is wrong’ was drilled into him as a child but perhaps he just didn't trust you. You'd have to figure out how to bring him out of that shell.
The students left your class with a varying amount of glee.
“I don't know how you're so nice.” Logan lit a cigar. “You just put this smile on and keep going.”
“He's a kid.” You answered. “A stupid kid but a kid.”
“I think we're evenly matched.” He winked.
You scoffed and tidied away some of the equipment.
It was nagging at you.
It had been all class.
‘I've been around a long time’
Yeah, you knew.
Everyone knew.
But woul-would you be old and shrivelled and he'd still be the same?
Would he look at you in disgust once you started greying?
“What's the most dead you've been?” The words were sudden and far from eloquent.
Logan blinked, his brows meeting. “The most dead I've been?”
You nodded.
He pondered the question. “I was a skeleton at one point. My skin and organs regrew it was trippy.”
You considered the answer.
He could literally operate as a skeleton and you were out for a week because of a bad cold.
Was this the first chip?
Was this something that would slowly become a larger crack?
Would your relationship survive this?
You plastered a grin on your face. “Okay.”
~~
“Hey handsome!” You strutted straight up to Logan. He looked amazing, wearing a dark button down and black dress trousers. You wanted to take him straight upstairs.
“Baby.” His arm automatically wrapped around your waist, kissing your hairline before reconnecting with Kurt.
You didn't catch what they were talking about, too drunk to care but sober enough to nod along when they looked at you.
Kurt poked your nose before he disappeared and you sneezed.
“Bless you.” Logan bent his neck to look at your scrunched face.
“That was so tickly.” You rubbed your nose, hoping your makeup stayed in place.
“Have I told you you look beautiful tonight?”
“Only a thousand times.” You grinned upwards, tiptoeing to capture his lips. “I know it's Hank's birthday but you look so yummy. Want to take you upstairs.”
Logan growled at your words, wrapping his other hand around you, “I won't say no.”
“Let's go then.” You kissed his chin.
“Hey lovebirds!” Bobby called across the room. “I need another teammate.”
“Go on.” Logan nudged you, you had all night and the rest of your life to fuck. Maybe you should enjoy your friends company. Linger in the room too long. “You'll be terrible but it'll be fun to watch.”
He was standing next to Sunspot at one end of a Beer Pong match. Jubilee, Kitty and Rogue were at the other.
You mock gasped but knew he was right.
The game was rigged, you were sure of it. You had to drink every time and barely managed one cup. Logan took pity on you after the second beer and downed your drinks, the others weren't best pleased but no one was going to argue with the Wolverine about his girl.
It was so good to let loose.
After having your hysterectomy and being without your best friend for months this was bliss.
You hadn't realised how much he was a part of you. Removing him from your life left it cold and empty.
It was cliché but you had slowly tumbled into a depression without him. Much like any teenage lead in a shitty romcom being without your boyfriend was agony.
He understood your reasoning, didn't condone the actions but was able to see it from your perspective.
You were rarely allowed to be out of his eyeshot, now. He had become even more protective of you, wanting you to feel loved and supported even if you told him you didn't need that. He wanted you to come to him with any issue, to trust him, no matter how big or small.
And you wanted to be strong.
You wanted to prove that you were okay.
But being carried up to bed and coddled was fucking lovely.
“It's Alice in Chains!” You excitedly clapped Logan's arm. He had played you this song more than once, you think it was called Nutshell. Did Hank borrow some of your CDs? “This is your favourite song!”
He smirked. “Not my favourite but it's a good one.” He wrapped himself around your body, his front to your back, watching Jubilee sink one for Bobby.
“What is your favourite song?”
He hummed and you felt his shoulders move. “I don't know, I'd have to think on it.”
Okay, you'd allow that. It wasn't an easy question so you reworded it. “If you were dying right now what would you want to listen to?”
“You humming in the kitchen.” He answered without a second thought.
You giggled, turning in his hold. “No, come on, seriously.”
He rest his forehead against yours. “When you hummed Elvis… making those flapjacks… the sun was-it made you look ethereal, you were an angel. I want that.”
You remembered that day. Everything had gone wrong even though you followed the recipe to a tee! He had walked in on you mid tantrum and made life better. If he thought you looked angelic covered in sugar and chocolate then imagine what he thought when you made an effort.
“You always leave me speechless.”
He kissed your temple.
~~
“I never meant to cause you any sorrow.” You spoke seriously.
Logan looked up from the papers he was grading. His eyes squinting slightly in a silent question.
“I never meant to cause you any pain.” You injected sadness into your voice, it cracked slightly.
“What's happening?” He looked really worried, taking off his reading glasses.
“I only wanted one time to see you laughing.” You used your hands animatedly.
“Y/N?”
“I only want to see you laughing in the purple rain.”
He heaved a sigh of relief. “You had me worried. I was trying to figure out if I'd missed a birthday or an anniversary.”
“I can't grade these papers. The song is rattling around in my head.” You thunked your head against the desk. “Why did we say we'd help Jean again?”
“You told her you could grade more papers in a day then she could.”
“Pathetic fallacy this, juxtaposition that.” You groaned. “Why do I get so competitive?”
“I don’t know.” He spoke honestly. “We could be spending our evening any other way but you have us reading shitty analysises on An Inspector Calls.”
You didn't answer him. You wouldn't let him goad you. Wouldn't stoop to his level, despite wanting so badly to stoop in front of him. Biting the inside of your cheek you stood. “Nope, sorry, I have to play the record.”
He watched you wander to the shared pile of music. Your LPs and his CDs intermingled in the corner of his room.
“Is the Prince album in here?” You flicked through the LPs.
“All our music is. Did you let anyone borrow it?”
“I don't know.” You knelt, opening the cupboard underneath the record player, he panicked, jumping up.
“Don't look in-”
“Ha!” You waved the cover smiling but your enthusiasm ebbed away making room for suspicion. “Don't look in here?”
A hand stretched his face. “Please don't ask questions.”
“If you're hiding a present somewhere make sure it's not somewhere I'd look, Howlett.” You closed the doors. “That's like the first rule.”
“I don't have that many hiding places.” He defended. “We live together.”
That was technically true and untrue.
You still had a room.
You just spent most of your time in his.
“I can vacate i-”
“Shut up.” He took the record from your hands and secured the vinyl onto the spindle and placed the needle accordingly. He flipped the machine on and the last chords of ‘baby I'm a star’ played before the familiar strum.
He offered you his palm and you took it, easing up from the floor. “Dance with me?”
“Always.”
The two of you swayed to the music. It was the last song on this side of the record so you'd have to change it soon but just leaning against him, listening to Prince sing and play his guitar was heavenly.
Logan's nose was buried in your hair. He would tell you later on that he wouldn't have minded if you found what he was hiding.
He would've just got down on his knee then and there.
He didn't want to propose publicly but he wanted to make the day special. Make you feel loved like you deserved.
\\
“Y/N?” You turned your head. You were upstairs. Outside of Logan's room.
It was empty. Unoccupied.
“Storm.” She looked amazing. Had she even aged? Maybe she was born later in this universe.
“The professor asked me to check on you.” She spoke with ease but it wasn't the friendly chatter you were used to.
“Yeah sorry, I've just been wandering like a ghost around this mansion.” Your cheeks warmed. “I'm absolutely fine, though, thank you for checking up on me.”
Part 14
@littlecrowtime @geeksareunique @lovelyvaderx @br3nt-12 @st1nkabutt @maximumchilddreamland @catiwinky @twinkywink @ravenmedows @electricreader @racetrackheart @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @bisasterbisexual @tzurue @narniansmagic @seamlessepiphany @4ria790 @caramelatae @mei-simp @slightlymediocree @h0n3y-l3m0n05
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oknowkiss · 3 months
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fic post: 9 to 5
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written for @microficmay 2024!
Pairing(s): DRARRY, Draco/OMC Rating: E (light E, though. more like a hard M) Wordcount: 2.5K
Read on AO3 here!
Tags: Time Loop, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Unspeakable Harry Potter, Ministry Office Drone Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Power Imbalance, Psychological Horror, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, There’s some nice stuff too but you know I am medically required to put this little blond twink Into Situations Summary: Draco Malfoy hates Mondays.
hello! i'm here! june 19th, which is the very first day after may 31st! look at how completely on time i am with getting this up.
thank you so much to everyone who supported this journey in may. going into posting, i wasn't 100% certain i could pull off a time loop story in 50 word increments, but i figured if it crashed and burned you'd all forgive me eventually, or at the very least would forget. now that we've done it joe dot gif, i am still in shock at how completely lovely you all were about this story as it was posting. thank you so much from the bottom of my heart. an extra thank you to @sitp-recs, @thehoneybeet, @garagepaperback and @popcornwrath, who had me living for the tag reactions on their reblogs. please know i read and laughed (sometimes evilly) at every one.
truly though all of you made my may very special, so thank you, again and again.
this version is the extended edition "director's cut." nothing has changed in the plot, however if you were hoping for a couple bites more, you've got it.
finally, but absolutely NOT least, thank you to @lumosatnight @crazybutgood @sugareey-makes-stuff for modding this incredible fest. it has been an honor to participate in it for the last 3 years, and i hope you've all been having very well-deserved, restful junes.
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f1-stuff · 1 month
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Girl dad Carlos please! I miss that fic so much 🥲
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Okay. So.
I mustered up the energy to write a little vignette of this AU bc I also miss it and bc I didn't want to leave you two hanging! This is skipping ahead quite a bit to halfway through the season, but I'm still planning on writing and fleshing out that portion. I've just known for a while that this was gonna be an important part of the story and that I could jump into writing it right away!
It will probably be edited and adjusted for when the actual chapter is posted on ao3, but this is the 'rough draft' I guess! (Disclaimer: I know zero French and I haven’t had someone look over that bit yet!)
Anyway, enjoyyyy...
When there’s a knock on his door about two weeks into the summer break, his brain doesn’t compute for a full minute after he’s opened it.
Because why would Charles, his teammate, be here? In Spain? At his apartment? During their summer holiday, when they’re supposed to be ignoring any and all people and things related to F1, recharging their batteries, and remembering there’s more to life than racing cars? He and Charles have barely ever even texted during the summer break, let alone seen one another. So, again, why would Charles be at his front door.
Also, he’s a bit sleep deprived and delirious, so there’s every chance he’s hallucinating this.
“Uh...” he says, rather eloquently.
“Hey,” Charles says. And there’s a tentative smile on his face that Carlos can’t even begin to parse the meaning of. His brain isn’t just one step behind, it’s five steps. “Can...I come in?”
“Oh.” Again. Eloquent, Sainz. “Eh- yeah. Yes. Come in.”
“Sorry to stop by without a warning,” Charles is saying. But Carlos is too busy looking around in barely disguised panic at the absolute trash heap that is his home.
It’s not that he didn’t realize how much of a mess the apartment was before, but he sees it now through Charles’ eyes and feels a little like curling up and dying. There are bowls of half eaten food and dirty dishes piled in and around the sink. Various toys, games, books, and drawings are strewn over almost every surface, along with clothes (mostly socks, so many socks) littering the floor. Boxes and boxes of Lucy’s things that he hasn’t had time to sort through are stacked against the walls and in the corners. One of the only exposed walls by the couch has colorful marker all over it, Ana having done that particular masterpiece when he’d accidentally nodded off during Peppa Pig. (He’d been too tired to even properly get angry about it, which was perhaps a bad precedent to set if he didn’t want a repeat performance.)
It looks like a tornado has swept through his apartment. A tornado named Ana.
Not that Charles is much neater on a good day, and he doesn’t even have a kid as an excuse. But Carlos has a feeling that if this is the current state of his apartment, the state of his own appearance is probably no better. He hasn’t properly showered, shaved, or slept in days, and he doesn’t think he’s looked in the mirror in all that time either. For all he knows, he’s still got remnants of the braids Ana put in his hair yesterday. He certainly can’t remember taking them out...
Charles, on the other hand, looks fresh and groomed and sunkissed - everything Carlos would expect during the summer break.
He smells good, he thinks, unbidden. Then, immediately, Stop it.
Charles takes in the space around them, his eyes eventually settling on Carlos with an amused (and maybe slightly concerned) expression. But just as he’s opening his mouth to speak, there’s the sound of the bathroom door opening down the hall and the smattering of tiny feet running across the floor, before Ana declares in her tiny, yet surprisingly bold voice, “I didn’t have a diarrhea!”
Carlos doesn’t even have enough shame left to be embarrassed by his kid. His first instinct is just relief.
“Stomach virus,” he mumbles to Charles, by way of explanation. Then, to Ana, in Spanish, “That’s great, mi niña! Did you wash your hands?”
“Yeeeees!”
“Are you sure?”
“Uh-huh!”
“Good, because we, eh- we have a guest!”
It’s quiet for a moment, before Ana’s head pokes around the corner slowly. But her face lights up as soon as she sees who it is.
“Cha!” she shouts, but then immediately looks embarrassed by her own show of excitement.
“Coucou, Ana,” Charles says, amused. He kneels down and encourages Ana closer, accepting the tentative hug she gives him.
No matter how much they had bonded last time, it’s still been a while since they’ve seen one another, and some of Ana’s shyness has clearly returned. Still, it’s huge that she’s even initiated a hug, and Carlos feels a telltale twinge in his sternum at the image they both make.
“As-tu été bon pour papa?” Charles asks, cuffing her gently on the chin. Ana grins and nods. “J'ai un cadeau pour toi.”
Charles reaches into a bag that Carlos hadn’t even noticed he’d been carrying until he’d set it down to hug Ana, and he pulls out a pink rectangular thing, that Carlos squints in confusion at for a beat. He realizes what it is simultaneously with Charles’ next words.
“C'est une caméra. Pour que tu prennes des photos de ton papa.”
It’s a pink camera for kids, a unicorn adorning the front where the lens peeks out. Carlos almost rolls his eyes - of course Charles, with his recent photography kick, gifts his kid a camera. But the way Ana’s expression transforms with wonder as Charles demonstrates to her how it works is pretty precious.
Charles hands it over to her and she immediately points it at him. He pulls a silly expression, making her giggle. They both examine the photo, heads bowed close. Ana points it up at Carlos next.
“¡Sonríe, papá!”
He sticks out his tongue and her little finger presses the capture button. The joy on her face as the photo pops up on the screen, tilting it to show them even though it’s upside down, fills Carlos with so much warmth and love that he legitimately almost tears up.
God, he’s so freaking tired.
Ana bounds off to her room to gather her stuffed toys to take a ‘family picture,’ and Charles straightens back up, smile lingering on his cheeks even after Ana has disappeared down the hall.
Carlos wants to kiss him so bad. Becoming a father has turned him into such a sap.
“Ehm,” he clears his throat. “Thank you. That was- a nice gift.”
“No problems.”
“You know, you don’t have to buy her something every time you see her,” he says, humor lacing his words.
“I want to,” Charles insists, simply. They smile awkwardly for an extended beat, listening to the sounds of Ana down the hall in her room, talking to her animals. Charles’ eyes stray to his hair. “You have...something in your hair. Is that a braid-?”
“What are you doing here, Charles?” he asks, choosing to ignore the comment. “I thought you would be in Corsica, or somewhere.”
“I was. But I heard you and Ana had to cancel on the trip to Mallorca and-”
“Heard, how?” Charles looks sheepish, triggering his suspicion. So he repeats it. “Heard, how, Charles?”
“Your mum texted me-” 
He sighs, eyes shutting briefly in frustration. He wishes his mom would just stay out of this whole- thing with Charles. But, clearly, she knew he wouldn’t accept help from anyone else. And that he wouldn’t be able to turn Charles away…
“She didn’t tell me to come,” Charles rushes to say. “She was just worried because you refused to let her stay and help, and that you hadn’t found a sitter, or someone, yet. So I just offered-”
“Charles, please...” He breaks off with another sigh, rubbing his temples to stave off the oncoming headache. But it’s already too late, if the subtle pulsating pain, slowly increasing in intensity, is anything to go by. “You should not have come.”
“Carlos, don’t be stupid,” he scoffs. “Anyway, I am here.” And he supposes that’s true. Nothing can be done about it now. “You look tired.”
He huffs a small laugh, dropping his hands from his temples to meet Charles’ gaze.
“This is what someone looks like when their kid catches a stomach virus and then they catch that same virus from their kid, just when their kid is starting to feel better-”
“Why didn’t you let your mum help-?”
“I’m her dad,” he interrupts, breathing hard. But he softens his voice with his next words. “I can do this on my own. I just wanted to...”
He doesn’t really know how to finish that sentence, though. It sounds stubborn and stupid when he starts to say it out loud. None of this should be about him. It’s about Ana. And if he’d really needed help, he should’ve asked for it. For her.
Charles seems to know that he doesn’t have to say it - that Carlos is already thinking it. So, instead, he just claps a hand to his shoulder and squeezes.
“I think,” he says, “-you should get some rest.”
“Charles-”
“No, I’m serious. Go to your room, Mister Sainz.” A slow grin pulls over his features. And along with the genuine concern in his eyes, it’s almost enough to break through Carlos’ resolve. “You are exhausted. Ana will be fine - I will watch her. Just...rest for a minute. Okay? You don’t look like yourself.”
And he knows that must be true. He knows that he needs a lot more than just a few hours of sleep to feel somewhere close to normal again (a shower would be a good start). But it’s hard to even think of himself when he’s been so worried about Ana for days - researching how to get her fever to die down, trying to get her to drink fluids, watching her fitful face in sleep, his heart in his throat despite how the pediatrician had assured him she’d be fine.
But, then, he’d gotten sick, too. And instead of focusing on his own recovery, he’d had to fit in sessions of retching over the toilet in between caring for his kid and making sure she was properly fed. And the two of them had managed, even if it wasn’t ideal. They’d grown closer, he thought, by virtue of her needing him so much.
He couldn’t keep it together forever, though. Eventually, if he didn’t take a break, he’d fall apart completely.
It takes him a stubborn moment, the urge to argue bubbling up inside despite how glorious resting his head on a pillow sounds. But eventually he nods, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Thank you.”
Charles just looks at him with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. “You are welcome, Carlos. Now, go. You look like you are going to fall over at any moment.”
“I feel like I’m going to fall over at any moment.”
Charles laughs under his breath, pushing Carlos’ shoulder gently to aim him toward the hallway. “Well, fall over into bed, then.”
“I’m going,” he insists, letting his tired limbs and the heavy touch of Charles at his shoulder guide him toward his room.
He can deal with how insane this situation is - Charles showing up here, and what the hell it means that he’d come at all - once he’s had some sleep. For now, he’ll happily take it for granted.
He doesn’t even really remember climbing into bed before the exhaustion takes over, his body surrendering to fatigue now that he knows his kid’s in good hands. Trustworthy hands. Charles’ hands.
He thinks he can hear the faint sounds of their French floating down the hallway. It makes him smile with the last vestiges of energy he has left.
God, he is in so over his head.
----
WIP ask game
Link to fic on ao3 -> (x)
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probssomethingorother · 9 months
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Post- Silver Lake Brainrot
I've wanted to put one of these together for a long time (..a long, long time 🎶), and just never did it. With the new year upon us I thought it would be a great time to finally give it a go.
If you are like me and need to know what happened after Joel and Ellie walked away from Silver Lake, here are some fics to scratch that post-8/winter itch. For now I will just list them below, but I may eventually compile them into like a public Ao3 bookmark collection (if I can figure out that magic). [Started! Click the link]
These are going to be the mostly canon compliant/canon-vibes fics, and that's not to say other alternate version of event fics aren't good, I'm just not focusing on them atm here :)
Under the cut, the list is broken down into five fic length categories. Stories are not in any sort of order within each group, and I was only pulling from Archive, so if there is a Tumblr original floating around out there that you are surprised didn't make the list, that is why. In the same vein, I know I probably missed a lot of Ao3 fics. If you think something should be included (ao3 or Tumblr) just let me know!
And lastly, if you click n' read on any of these please try to give the writer some love via kudos or comments! ✨ Spread the good vibes!!
[Disclaimer - If I could find the author's Tumblr I have @'d them, but if I couldn't it's their ao3 name only. If you know an author's tumblr and I haven't linked it, or I have chose the wrong tumblr, or you just don't want your tumblr linked, please feel free to reach out and I will edit!]
𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐝𝐨....
🅰 🅵🆄🅻🅻 🅰🆂🆂 🅱🅾🅾🅺 (100k+)
>> please don't go by @toointojoelmiller
🅱🅸🅶 🅱🅾🆈 🅲🅻🆄🅱 (10k+)
>> Understanding Your Daughter Who isn't Really Your Daughter by @onlinepigeon
>> Back & Forth by @probssomethingorother
>> Dinosaur by @femmefacetious
>> I've come to know (life is a slow, beautiful heartbreak) by @the-relvin-temult
>> In the After by @probssomethingorother
>> and with you alone by @penandinkprincess
🅼🅴🅰🆃🆈 (5-10K)
>> Awake and Dreaming by @wordswordswords7
>> Let My Arms Bring You Comfort by @ellies-little-gun
>> There's no need to be brave by stained_glass_horizon
>> when she needed me i wasn't around by @periwinklwt
>> drifting by some_pomegranate_tea
>> i start for the great temple by @march-flowerr 
>> cold is the water by @marceltheshellwithflipflopson
>> fix me up by survivorellie
>> if we make it through december (we'll be fine) by @marceltheshellwithflipflopson
>> teeth as sharp as cathedral spires by @actual-changeling
>> life, in the after by @dad-joel
>> things we lost to the flames by @dancingonmoonbeams
>> you’re my baby, say it to me by alternatemind
>> Winter's Edge by mikichi
>> the view between villages by @howlingbuchanan
>> Silver As The Snow (it must be cold)  by @cgetbrmj
>> Keep Going for You by @someone-worth-racing-for
>> i’ll be coming home soon (long as i can see the light) by @outer-edges
>> This Bitter Earth by mahuika
>> Back to the Middle of Nowhere by @wordswordswords7
>> triage by @penandinkprincess
🆂🅼🅰🅻🅻 🅱🆄🆃 🅼🅸🅶🅷🆃🆈 (3-5k)
>> hold me twenty minutes to sleep (and some things you just can't speak about) by @compassinmyhead
>> Violent Heart by @timelesslords
>> I'll See Us Through by GardenerSnake8822
>> Please Hold Me While I Break Apart by @ellies-little-gun
>> there is fear in love by @durincorporated
>> never let you down again by @timelesslords 
>> nothing but bones by gravefaeries
>> a wall between us and the world by @afjakwrites
>> these things eat at your bones (and drive your young mind crazy) by @outer-edges
>> Push through it by @probssomethingorother
>> Let Me Help You by arnabus
>> i'm beyond repair, let me be by thisisthehill_i_die_on
>> rambles and promises and bedtime stories by some_pomegranate_tea
>> never let me go by @ggardengirl 
>> to see what i see (woe is me) by awoodenthicket
>> Reassurance by little_mack101
>> facultative by @penandinkprincess
>> it's how we show love by @outer-edges
>> care (how love is shown) by cosmic_idiot1
>> you love me so hard and i still can’t sleep  by  @marceltheshellwithflipflopson
>> aftermath by @boopernatural
>> With every heartbeat I have left I’ll defend your every breath (I promise I’ll do better) by @memelovescaps
🆀🆄🅸🅲🅺 🅲🅾🅽🆂🆄🅼🅿🆃🅸🅾🅽 (<3k)
>> i’ve always had a violent heart by @mattsbooknook
>> The Parable of the Lost Sheep by riversiders
>> Aftermath by @purplesunrisefanfic
>> how our souls, born to heal, become so prone to die? by @apuliae
>> A Violent Heart by @val-creative
>> No Apologies by @mentallyinlothlorien
>> Aftermath by galaxiesreader
>> These Hands are Clumsy Not Clever by my_immortal_parody
>> never goes away (but it all works out) by @timelesslords 
>> Cargo by @mentallyinlothlorien
>> so slip your hand inside my glove (hold me) by @dulce-chisme
>> it's how we show love by @outer-edges
>> Lullaby by @sillysunshinesstuff
>> unforgiven by @eedsknees
>> Endure & Survive by iheartjoelmiller
>> you may bury my body, down by the highway side  by ChristmasEve12
>> Touch Me Not by Sokeyy
>> Aftermath by HurtandComfortWriter
>> Broken Violent Heart by ARightFarPiece
>> Indelible Scars, Pivotal Marks. by thefactimadethissaystomuch
>> every night i dream of you by @anpantae
>> Winter's Fury by @dinobotbitch
>> The Aftermath by lettucehater007
>> you are my purpose by prefectrainflowers
>> Be Fruitful and Multiply by Rainy_Rayne
>> do you ever think of me and my two hands? by @eedsknees
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ace-of-gay · 1 year
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A Mountain is home
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I currently dont have a masterlist set up for this collection but i hope you enjoy this none the less, this will eventually be posted on ao3 but i dont have an account currently
Warnings: age regression (not very in depth) , self destructive stimming like scratching pulling on tail thrashing and hitting ones self during a neurodivergent meltdown, quite panicked reader, reader has trauma, reader is a full ghoul this time cause this is still my interpretation of a fantasy universe <3, cuddles and ghoul-piles!!!
The word muzzle is used multiple times over but is referring to a mouth cover to symbolize silence
I headcannon mountain as autistic, no shoes for lifeee yup thats all
age regression is a coping mechanism that can be both voluntary and/or involuntary it is entirely safe and reccomended by therapists if they believe it would be effective for said person but as mentioned for some people it is entirely unpredictable, if this makes you uncomfortable please scroll away thank you <3
Not betad or edited
Word count: 5,611words (it basically wrote itself)
Youd been summoned just a week ago and it already seems as though youre once again fading into the background, no one had taught you if someone of your neurotype was acceptable in todays world, the bok-hord in hell or library as you read above the one here in the church of sin was not at all up to date on whats acceptable yet.
This is your second time being summoned, your first ritual was terrifying but what made it worse is they thought you were impossible to become a domestic ghoul, the uncertainty of being sent back from this one weighed on you, if you went back again no one would be there for you.
Holding yourself back and biting your tongue from doing or saying anything including the strange chirps and trills that kept you regulated, taking it upon yourself to be even more docile and quieter than the tall ghoul behind the drums, no matter the situation not a peep has been heard from you, all you did was play your instrument, there was no jumping around putting on a presentation, the others however did so, its just practice but you hadnt earned your place, you could always be sent back for even the most minor of slip up, its happend before and you for sure wont let it happen again.
《~♡~》
Friday nights are prime for the others, the guys in a ghoul-pile and girls raiding the fridge for snacks while watching a film, in the common area designated for only ghouls no one wearing their mask but yourself, only passing through doing your best to keep in the shadows, if youre out of place surely youll be duely punished, the first time you were summoned your family and friends were disappointed to see you sent back but your mother worst of all had said she had expected it , you had no place yet, so your room was for you the closest to safety.
Locking the door to your room as soon as you returned; taking off themask and the muzzle of sorts, some ghouls had facepaint instead but you weren't vocal so there was no reason, finally now to a safe place you let everything fall from its people pleasing manner into what felt most like yourself, jumping up and down to get your blood flowing and thoughts swarming.
"Who needs others when you can feel at home just being yourself", clicking and pacing and flapping your hands you were trying to catch up to what your body demanded, but
It just kept spilling, from the deepest places in your mind, crevasses full of discomfort, confusion, irritation and just the most overwhelming feeling that could muster  itself from your being.
Nothing was working, it was too late to regulate and your mind took to a melt down, shaking your head wasnt good enough, grabbing hold of your horns, you violently shake yourself around, tail whipping and slashing all around you, and than the crying.
Oh how the crying was the worst part, shoving the muzzle back on it didn't do much for silence but its still an attempt, everyones expectations ringing shrill in your ears, you didn't come from a happy home, your family torn apart by sinners from christs hall a completely different take on sin, as it caused harm.
Hands over your muzzle to silence just a bit more if possible and than the silent choked sobs, more physically painful but it wouldn't draw attention, thats the last thing you wanted, slamming your fists down against your thighs followed by tugging on your tail and scratching the spade of it until it hurt, the only thing that could regulate you was small jolts and shocks of pain and than it stopped, you were right back where you started, silent but this time you felt like a kit.
A tiny kit who got told that they need to learn to be normal, but for the time being there was the innocence, nothing would happen if you weren't, you were just different, and you were alone but you were still safe.
Putting the helmet back on, you take all of the blankets and pillows that are in your room and shove them under your bed, taking the cover sheet and creating a curtain between the floor and the frame, all of your tiny kit-like self holed up in one place, a place as small as the family and friends in your life had made you, maybe this time you were sent here to be safe.
Fixing up the nest you made under your bed you let yourself hide away from the world, be as small and pure as your mind could muster and let all the terrible feelings melt away, chirping and trilling quietly as you lay there eventually being held close and coddled by darkness, falling asleep you would not return to the common rooms until most necessary.
Grabbing food and hiding once more, at some point when you were in the library and had found scratch paper, a sketchbook , a couple pencils and a mess of tacks set out in a bin that had the word 'FREE' in print on it for anyone to partake in the activity of drawing, collecting the supplies and a few books on ghouls with neurodivergencies, and just a simple fairy tale, you embark back to your room.
Over the weekend you had covered the walls in the corner of the room under your bed with fantastical pictures of your dreams, and drawings of each ghoul and papas youve seen so far.
《~♡~》
When monday came it was back to breakfast and lessons in the morning, lunch after practice around noon and communal chores, the others were very loud today, as for yourself youd been silent like predicted but you could feel eyes on you and could hear bickering but nothing quite clear of their words.
making dinner for everyone was the last thing, it was easy, it was one thing your family didn't ridicule you over, your cooking made anyone who was having a bad day feel better, there was so much passion that anyone could see and taste.
your tail flowing in an easy, comforting sway and a smile hidden under your muzzle, the first smile to bare your face outside of your room and it felt like this was what would give you your place to stay.
Dishing everyones plates with your home-made meal and taking it to the ghouls and ghoulettes where they each were was apparently unexpected and out of their ordinary, but you had no idea, how would you when you hide away, maybe they would take that into consideration. This was also one of the first times you got to hear others address you, smiles and bright eyes shared when they where blown away by your cooking, you dished up yourself and sat at the island counter crouching on a wooden stool, sitting on them hurts the backs of your legs and crouching was more like hugging yourself anyway.
Soon enough people would march in putting their dishes in the sink giving a thankyou and a smile or a compliment to your cooking, slowly eating your food, savoring each bite, the comments from others causing your tail to pick up its sway with a little flick in it, maybe itll be okay.
You go to put your dish in the sink after rinsing it off when the tall guy from behind the drums approaches, while just as quiet as you he was also playful like the others.
"Hey y/n dinner was amazing, i cant wait til next week to see what you come up with" he exclaimed, "im mountain by the way, i know i didn't exactly introduce myself at all since you first got here, we wanted you to settle in, you seemed very stressed" he added before someone shouted for him from the other room, leaving with a smile and wave.
There was no expectation for you to respond, no expectation to look someone in the eyes, you let out a small chirp joined by a small movement in your hands.
《~♡~》
Back in your room you let your tail wag wildly,  pulling the books you'd been reading up on, you had gotten from them the fact that over the years some churches of sin have allowed a better understanding and acceptance for people and ghouls alike with neurodivergencies to be better recognized and seen as equals, there were things they didn't tell you about back in hell when you were told of your neurotype, like your sounds and movement for self regulation was called stimming and that it can be harmful but it can also be helpful just depending on the purpose and action, you had copied information from the book down on resources and important things you thought would help, these books were the most helpful and the fairy-tale was perfect however you needed a new one since youve read this one so many times you knew every line, you take the books back to the library.
Putting them back on their respective shelfs you pick out two new fairy-tales and stop by the free stuff bin, taking pencil lead an eraser and a new sketchbook, youve already filled your first one in just a few days, you dont have anymore room on the walls around your nest for more loose paper sketches so you need the sketchbook instead.
On your walk back to your room admiring the stained glass windows, lost in thoughts somewhere between regression and big feelings, letting them mingle and intertwine,
So lost in thought you dont see when papa copia started coming closer until he spoke up, "good evening y/n" a small scream torn from you as you are brought back to right now practically jumping out of your skin, your eyes big as you process who it is, the first time anyone has heard your voice in any way and it obviously had to be a panicked scream, this wouldn't sit well with your family, your mind shifting farther into regression, just wanting to be in your room again.
"My apologies little one" littleone? Is it that obvious you think to yourself, "it was not my intention to frighten you, i see youve taken a liking to the library, what books have you got there?" Hanging your head in shame and slight worry you show him the two fairy-tales and he breaks out in a grin "i remember reading those, i might have to look at them once more! A very good choice, Molto bene indeed" finishing up your silent-sided conversation you rush quickly back to your room, theres been too much interaction and what did papa copia mean by 'little one?'
《~♡~》
After a few days of this halfsided banter from the ghouls and papa youre started to feel a little more comfortable.
A knock on your door pulled you from your slumber, the first couple times had made their way into your dream, you get up and open the door to the ghouls and ghoulettes standing in the hall, a few smiles making their way on a few faces, and thats when you realize youre not wearing your mask or muzzle, heat rushing to your ears and cheeks causing your cool grey skin to tint purple, hanging your head in embarrassment while rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, "were sorry to wake you but were meeting early today because papa has a meeting with the clergy and after lessons and practice mix we have the rest of the day off", nodding you return into your room to get changed and to put on your muzzle and mask, the group waiting outside of your room for you to walk with them.
Lessons and practice going by quickly you find yourself in the library,helmet off, curled up and tucked into one of the couches reading another fairy-tale, looking intently at the pictures, your eyes irritated from not getting all of the sleep you normally get, theyre slowly drifting shut, you can only stay awake so much longer before your mind takes you to a rem sleep.
Waking up to mountain shaking you awake he smiles gently, "hey sleepy head, i was looking for you, its lunch time but it seems as though youre tired, we'll get you to your room and ill bring lunch to you there" he was a gentle giant ghoul and although you haven't said anything to anyone youre starting to warm up to him, he puts a book mark in the book and helps you up handing you your mask, you decide to just carry it with you.
Opening your door he hands you the book and you set it down atop your bed along with your mask, "do you want me to knock when i come back?" Thinking for a moment and shaking your head 'no' you'll probably just be asleep again, taking off the muzzle you set it with your mask getting ontop of your empty bed you curl up waiting while slightly dozing.
When he returns he walks in with your plate in hand, "wheres you stuff bud? Did they move you into an unready room?" You once more shake your head, pulling up the bedsheet curtain putting your nest on display, "aaah a safe spot, i completely understand, im here if you need anything, just holler my way" he kids while stepping out.
"Can you- stay?" You mutter through a slightly broken voice, catching him off guard, youre not sure why you asked but he seems easy to open up to, hes kinda like you.
"Id be honored"
You sat there mostly quiet eating but occasionally you'd respond and every time he would be looking elsewhere but the smile on his face said he was paying attention.
The more you got to know him the more you realized youre very similar to him.
《~♡~》
The next couple weeks youd spend lunch with him sharing stories while you sat in your nest and him at your desk, he talked about how fond the ghouls and ghoulettes and even the papas were of you, they all looked forward to you hopefully someday talk full sentences with them but for now with you slowly coming out of your shell, wearing your mask and muzzle less often and spending more time somewhat near the group, for now they were content watching you grow and become more of yourself.
You gave each person a sketch youd do of them from observation and mountain even brought you another sketchbook when he noticed you were running low on pages, you told him why youve been scared to come out of your room and your past experience with your previous summoning, you however didn't tell him why it failed but he understood itll take some time.
《~♡~》
One evening after another one of your delicious meals you were invited to watch a movie with everyone, accepting the offer you show up in your hoodie you just recently bought and pajama pants, socks with sticky tabs on the bottom so you didn't slip on the marble floors, you balled yourself up in a beanbag chair, others had grabbed pillows or stuffed animals from the pile in the corner, you go over to look through the pile, pulling out a well loved multi-textured dog plush, smiling and taking it over to your spot with you, focused on the textures, "very good choice little wisp" mountain hummed, your tail thumping against the bean bag chair, your cheeks and ears dusted purple once more, "i haven't held one since i was very small" you return.
After the movie you gave the plush one last hug before placing it atop the pile, "you know if you want you can take it to your room with you, we have them here for everyone" he encouraged but you shook your head, "he would miss his friends and i dont want to take someone elses opportunity of loving him away", little did you know the ghouls left in the room all felt their hearts melt, this wasnt new to them, theyve met ghouls and people whose minds are permanently part kit, they wouldn't say anything until you said something first, youre part of the family, you deserve to do it on your own terms.
Just the next evening when you returned from the library you come to find a black gift
Bag infront of your door with a tag that has your name on it.
Entering your room you set everything down before you open the bag, youre met with a soft multi-texture plush almost identical to the one from the other night but this one had weighted feet,and a book of several fairy-tales with a few purple tabs on certain pages along with it. A card that says, "a plush specifically for you and your love, i hope you give him a wonderful name, and a book my mother read to me when i was just a kit, one that you dont have to take back to the library"
Holding the plush out infront to look at him your headspace slipping quickly, thankfully you were in the safety of your bedroom and he would fit perfectly into your nest with you.
With plenty of time between now and dinner time, your chores being done and someone else being on dinner duty you took right now to relax.
in comfortable clothes you lay down in your nest with your book and the stuffy you named chip cause he reminded you of chocolate chip cookies, you named him late at night when you were feeling very small and it just stuck.
Closing your eyes when the words in the book were adding to the strain, from all the light today, hunger pulling a whine from you, if you slept for now youd wake up at the perfect time to eat dinner, you might even sit with rain and talk about the books youve read recently outside of the fairy-tales.
Being pulled out of your dreams by someone gently shaking you awake and calling your name, confusion built it way to your face, he doesn't need to knock but normally he chooses to, what brought him in?
"I know youre sleepy but its dinner time and i know you like your routine,  i tried knocking but you were out cold" he states after reading your scrunched and slightly confused face, handing you your bowl, tonight cirrus and swiss made dinner together.
Mountain sits on the floor across from you as you both ate in a comfortable silence, thats one thing about him, he tries to make sure hes not being a trigger for anyone with misophonia.
Eating slowly and running your hand along the textures of your stuffy, "s'named chip" you just barely say aloud, causing him to smile, "thats the most perfect name for him, does he give the best of cuddles?" Nodding youre completely unaware of the fact hes talking to you as if you were a kit, he was just being kind and attentive for all you knew, and while yes thats completely true he also saw through your silence, hes talked to semi-permanent kit-minded ghouls and he knew it was for safety of mind.
Both of you done with dinner, you pull out your sketchbook as he gets up to take the dishes to the kitchen, standing in the doorway looking down at you with a smile upon his face, "do you want me to come back after i put the dishes in the kitchen?" Watching as you ponder for a moment before nodding, looking up at him, never once more than now have you longed for physical contact with someone but you little mind craves it.
He returned quickly to see you moving your nest about, your movements less exact and a little choppy, he could see the irritation when the blankets wouldn't flatten out so he got down to help, fixing it for you he sat back on his knees when you planted yourself down closer to the wall than normal, you pat the spot next to you while holding chip close to your chest.
"You want me to cuddle little wisp?" He questioned already taking his jacket off before you hummed in response.
Cuddling was very common amongst ghouls so there was no questions asked as to why
It was naturally so second nature for most.
Curling into him he holds you close, your head resting on his chest, you could just fall asleep right now but you fought that instinct so you could savor a moment of feeling completely safe, where youre not being overstimulated.
"When i was first summoned i read those exact same books on ghouls with neurodivergencies, i remember reading that someone with a mind like the one both of us have can easily struggle in public environments or around new people"
He retold, causing you to question how he knew you read them.
"Oh wisp, i can hear just how stirring you mind can be, i saw you walking back to the library to return them, i want you to know that you are safe here with me and all of the others, im honored to cuddle, i didn't join a ghoul-pile until several months of being here."
Nodding to yourself, taking a moment to process his words when your own  join the party.
"Jus cant do touch with others almost ever, makes brain hurt and than hurts me aswell"
Your eyes started to sleepily flutterand he picks up the fairy-tales book he brought you, opening it up to one of the purple tabs, some of his favorites.
He read you to sleep, when his pants were starting to put deep seam imprints  into his legs causing him discomfort, he goes to leave the room but is stopped by you plea for him to stay, "ill be right back little mouse."
And like promised he did return in much more comfortable clothes, a blanket and a comfort item of his own, cuddling back up with you halfway ontop of him, covering the both of you with his blanket, setting your temporarily forgotten of stuffie in the corner above your head along with his.
《~♡~》
From than forward you and mountain spent Friday nights in your room reading and cuddling, going to lessons and practice together, he was helping you open up, when it would be your night to make dinner, which you had requested to have more than once a week instead of sink duty because soggy wet hands felt offensive to your skin, he would sit at the island watching unless one of his chores intercepted that period of time or if another ghoul requested his company.
It took five months to ease you out of you shell, at four you had brought up the regression and neurodivergency topics to the others and than out of fear you hid in your room for the weekend until dew stopped by inviting you to watch a movie with the others which you happily obliged to do so, remembering that its okay to be around others and be yourself, that night you sat on the couch behind the ghoul-pile falling asleep with chip in your arms, your tail intertwined with mountains.
Not wearing your mask unless you needed a break or everyone else was, copia had taken you aside at one point to find fabrics that looked like the others but were sensory safe so when it was time for uniforms you would feel comfortable.
At night you would go out to the garden in secret and jump around, spin, stomp, trill, chirp, coo and so much more. It helped tremendously.
《~♡~》
Tonight unlike the others was much louder in your head and harder to feel okay, already regressed you tried stomping around and flailing your hands but without meaning to you were once more pulling on your tail and scratching it painful and raw, the garden was closed for the night with new fertilizer being put down, taking chip you trail your way down to one of the last rooms, the shiny name plate reading 'mountain' you gave a slightly too heavy knock on the door, rocking back and forth on your feet, he answers and is suprised to see you standing there with deep grey tear tracks down your face, chip under your arm and your tail in hand scratching as you fumble with your words.
Letting you in he pats the bed for you to sit down while he turns on the light and pulls a shirt on over your head, sniffles and hiccups break your silence, he take your hands and holds them for a moment, watching the spade of your tail drop small dots of blood onto the marble floor, "come with me little wisp, its okay" he leads you to the bathroom, picking you up and setting you on the counter, lifting his tail for you to hold on, he knew full well you wouldn't scratch his, tracing the scars on his tail had you questioning if he did the same.
As he took hydrogen peroxide cleaning the small cuts and scrapes pulling a hiss from you in reaction, "i know hun, im sorry ive got to be mean and clean it but weve got to take care of it so it doesn't get icky ya-know?" He soothes, "you see the ones on my tail, theyre from the same thing, sometimes i almost start scratching at them again but i normally just hold my tail and put lotion on the scars to feel like im cleaning it up once more"
Once hes done patching you up he once again takes your hands leading you to his bed and looking through his closet. His room was well decorated and filled, a queen sized pillow top mattress and black wooden four poster bed frame against the wall, he had a collection of old trinkets including a camera that takes film, your father used to have one, several gas masks, a homophone record player. On the wall above his desk was a cork board coverd in the drawing youd given him, small trinkets littler his desk, before you could look further he brings over a box of similar small trinkets setting them infront of you.
"You can dump the box out if you want, find whatever works best, i have plenty more" dumping them out you turn the box upside down organizing them, finding three, liking them the most you put the duplicates of them and all the others away back in the box holding onto the three youd picked out, he puts the box under his bed, seating himself next to you, leaning into his side as he turns on one of the movies you'd taken interest in, "hey wisp can i hold chip?", nodding against his chest, paying deep attention to his heartbeat how slow and rhythmic, tapping your tail against the bed in the same beats, occasionally humming and trilling, his left hand running up and down your back, occasionally running though your hair gently.
"Youre gonna be okay little mouse, ive got you".
《~♡~》
Your first ghoul pile was something very special, stuffies piled everywhere, they all had banded together to make the room perfect for your comfort, your favorite music playing in the background, dew and sunshine had found you in the library quietly crying flicking around one of the fidgets mountain gave you
Humming and rocking back and forth, chip sitting ontop of your tail, you couldn't find mountain and you didn't want to taint the energy of your nest. Sunshine sat with you as dew went to find mountain, she lifted chip for a moment, carefully intertwining her tail with yours setting chip on your tails.
Dew returned around 10 minutes late with a smile upon his face, taking your open hand with sunshine carrying chip, they took you through the abbey to the lounge where the blanket, stuffy and pillow pile was spread across the floor, mountain and all the other were waiting, some of them already cuddled up, and others walking around, drawing the curtains and dimming lights, filling up a cooler to keep near the pile, mountain lead you to the group, curling himself around you with chip between the two of you, sunshine still connected to you laying back to back with you.
The first time being so close to the others all together and for once your brain lets it happen, youre not sure whose hand is running through your hair but it causes you to chirp, nuzzling you head into the hand.
Swiss tapping his forehead against yours, "youre welcome to stay as long as you need, this is your pile."
Theyre all so much more calm and centered on one another when theyre cuddled, with the warmth from all of the bodies it made it very easy to slip into a smaller headspace.
Cirrus reaching over mountain to wipe away the tear tracks with a wet cloth, they already had a feeling youd be disoriented with the news of the tour starting at the end of this month and the arrival of the outfits.
Cooing and trilling, others trilling back made you excitedly laugh.
《~♡~》
Youve been attached to at least one ghoul at all times, they knew you liked holding tails until you had to use your charm to pass as human, copia gave you a hug before he headed out first.
This was the first time youve seen mountain wear shoes, it looked as abnormal as it felt to not have a tail.
Standing in your place when papa introduces the band, not paying attention to him but instead the piece in your ear counting down til the lights cut off and mountain and dew are counted in, mountain looks to you taking an exasperated deep breath telling you to take one aswell, feeling the lights go out and the beat of mounts drums through the floor, counting the cymbal crashes and its time for you to join in, as soon as your hands start moving, you feel it, absolute euphoria, youre radioactive with energy,  the fans going wild, youre practically thrashing as you play, prancing around and jumping when youve got time to spare you run up front adding flair and showmanship to the ceremony, interacting with the others.
By the end youre absolutely drained, enough energy to hop about and screech getting rid of the last bit of energy, if all of the tour is like this youre gonna have an absolute blast, mountain hands you a couple drumsticks for you to throw after taking a bow, and than perching yourself in 'frog crouch' on mountains riser next to his drums watching everyone go about their ending routines, people throwing stuff on stage, bracelets and flags to hand made gothic style stuffed animals, the ghouls picking some stuff up to look at em, handing them to the designated ghouls if there was a name and handing the rest to anyone else like yourself, the ghoulettes and even papa, swiss picked up a couple hand made stuffed animals bringing them to sit next to you.
When it was time to leave the stage mountain came over opening his arms, you lean forward wrapping your arms around his shoulders and he sets you down on you feet, grabbing the teddy's leaning into his side, hes completely drenched in sweat but so are you, it was practically a work out so it was worth it.
In the van having let down the human charm you wash up and slip into pajamas, the stuffies and bracelets set in your bunk you stare out the window waiting flicking your fidget around, Cumulus walks by stopping to give you a hug, "you did great wisp, your energy was so contagious. ", nodding and tapping your forehead against hers in a silent communication, you were absolutely exhausted.
As soon as mountain is out of the shower you push yourself into his chest, finally time to rest, and with your favorite ghoul no doubt,  he hands you chip, folding into one another he holds you gently, as he pulls out the fairy tale he reads your favorites in the book, looking down when youre not humming out your regular vocal stims he realizes youve fallen asleep with your head on his chest, his hands running up and down your spine, tail occasionally thumping against the bed followed by nuzzling against him, "sleep well little wisp, you were so radiant tonight.
《~♡~》
Your room at the church of sin was finally decorated, still sleeping in your nest, the ghouls helped you assemble a proper loft bed with the mattress from your previous bed as part of the nest below, stuffies from the tour everywhere and bracelets hung on a set of racks to display them, posters scatterd on your walls, some plushies piled on the top matteress but keeping that open for the most part if someone wants to hang out. A bookshelf full of normal books and fairy-tales,  a starry curtain over your window with a matching opposite one around your nest. Chip in his spot as always hes constantly waiting for your cuddles.
Drawings of both your own and others, many interpretation of what fans saw you as, they call you gargoyle, but to the ghouls youre just a little wisp or little mouse, you were your most accurate self, you were finally at home.
(Accidentally posted the unfixed version, sorry bout that)
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kai-malewife · 2 years
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A Lazy Saturday Morning
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Alhaitham x gender neutral!reader
Summary: There is no better place to wake up than in his arms. Shrouded in his scent, intoxicated by his warmth, nothing feels more like home than your lover, Alhaitham.
Warnings: None, just sickingly sweet morning fluff with our favorite scribe <3
Cross-Posted on Ao3 @ Zhonglis_cake_saves_lifes
Link here!
Not too proud of this fic, might edit it later!
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It is to the sound of lively twittering that you rouse from your peaceful slumber, stirred to consciousness by the carefree melody of the early morning birds. The sun had already risen, as warm, golden rays filter through the blinds, casting streaks of light across the room and onto your lover. 
Alhaitham, sprawled out next to you on the bed, winces faintly in response to the fierce gleam prompting him to awake in turn. His hold on your waist tightens and he buries his nose in your neck, breathing in your scent in a feeble attempt to cling onto any last remnants of sleep.
‘’Mornin’.’’ Your hand glides through his silver locks, voice permeated with drowsiness.
It elicits a mellow hum from him, and before long, quiet snores fill the room once more, calm and steady.
You simply cannot resist marveling at the serene expression on his countenance; his typically puckered brows now relaxed, mouth slightly ajar, and porcelain skin tinted in the enchanting morning glow. 
The hand which was previously stroking his hair leisurely trails down, its thumb and forefinger now delicately tracing the curve of his face, flesh smooth beneath deft fingertips. The vision bearer quivers briefly at the touch, nevertheless he does not withdraw from it.
For such a prominent figure in the Akademiya, Alhaitham was by no means a morning person. On the surface, one might expect him to be an early riser, up by the first glimmer of dawn to make the most out of his day, given that he valued his precious time above all else. Truth be told, however, reality was otherwise. 
All those lazy mornings spent in one another's embrace spoke for themselves; laced with loving pecks pressed on your temple and tender, lingering caresses that never failed to set your skin ablaze, occasionally resulting in either of you almost turning up late for work. 
Minutes pass with the Scribe snuggled up to you, chest expanding and contracting against your own at a regular pace. But who can blame him? It's Saturday morning, and there's nothing scheduled for the day.
While you wish to loll in the comfort of his muscular arms for a little longer, surely any sign of fatigue has already worn off, and merely lying here, wide awake, was growing rather irksome. Instead, you opt to roll out of bed and get started on breakfast, hoping to greet your beloved with a cup of steaming hot coffee once he awakens.
You struggle to extricate yourself as silently as humanly possible from the iron grasp enclosing you, eventually succeeding only after strenuous exertion. Yet, much to your surprise, no sooner do you set foot on the floor than something pulls you back onto the cushy mattress.
‘’Mm… Don’t go…’’  Alhaitham splays out on top of you, allowing his weight to press against your body, effectively restricting your movements as he grumbles in the shell of your ear, still half asleep.
This scenario was hardly foreign to you, having occurred countless times in the past. A wry smile tugs at your lips as you find yourself engulfed in the warmth of your partner.
‘’Haitham baby, you’re heavy.’’
‘’I know.’’
It earns him a meek jab on the shoulder, which in turn draws an amused chuckle from him, one that you feel reverberating in his chest along with yours. You heave a defeated sigh, like you always do, and yield to your fate; ensnared in his affectionate grip until he finally decrees that It’s time for his daily caffeine fix.
‘’You’re unbelievable.’’
‘’Love you too, honey.’’
And perhaps this is not so bad after all. 
Azur irises lock onto yours as you plant a final, chaste kiss on his forehead. And so, lulled by the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat, an unexpected weariness resurfaces, gradually carrying you back to the land of dreams together with the one you love…
806 notes · View notes
chaosandwolves · 2 months
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And I've been found
Buddie, first kiss, 1k words
So two months ago @eddiediazisms posted this absolute gorgeous art and I immediately started writing this fic. Now I've finally edited it and present to you this lil fic about Buddie's first kiss from Eddie's pov
Eddie's heart is pounding in his chest like it's trying to break free.
He knew this was coming, he has known for weeks, or at least carefully hoped for it and yet he feels not at all prepared for it.
Eddie has no problem admitting that he can be a little, well, clueless when it comes to flirting; might've mistaken some advances in the past for people just being friendly. So it honestly shouldn't have been so surprising how long it had taken him to understand exactly who Buck is to him. Especially because it's all just been so natural; it's all been feeling so right from the very beginning that Eddie never really paid any closer attention to it. He didn't notice that space Buck had been carving out for himself in Eddie's heart and soul until everything had crumbled down and Eddie had been reduced to his very core where he found that place that Buck now permanently occupies. That place where Buck and Eddie are so interwoven with each other that he's become a fundamental piece of Eddie's very being.
Eventually though, they've figured it out, together, somehow and with fewer words than they maybe should have used.
But that all doesn't matter now.
They've figured it out and now they're here on Eddie's couch and about to kiss for the first time and Eddie's heart is ready to jump out of his chest, while Buck's face moves closer and closer to his.
He wants this but he's also absolutely and utterly terrified.
Because this is Buck; his best friend, his partner, the one person who knows Eddie better than anyone else.
And that truth is simply terrifying.
No one he has ever kissed before, has seen Eddie at his lowest or his most vulnerable, his most honest; but Buck has witnessed it all. There is no hiding from him.
Keep reading on AO3
Biggest thanks to @im-not-batman who is the best beta reader ever and isn't bothered by me asking over and over affin to read this fic cause I couldn't get some things quite right.
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javis-burner-phone · 2 months
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To Writers in the Pedro Pascal Fandom:
This fandom went full Chernobyl this summer. I need a hazmat suit to get through these tags. I recently saw an anon reach out to a fic writer here.
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The anon is right that there's a problem in the fandom space, but they're misplacing blame. I'm writing this post for the non-hateful writers that have tried to feel a part of the community, but ended up feeling left out. I'm posting this on a burner account for obvious reasons that you'll see below:
The hateful posts about "big writers" have absolutely disgusted me, but I can relate to the frustration that many fic writers are expressing. We see very fun and active areas of the fandom where writers are communal, hyping each other up, reblogging fics, but only within certain friend groups. Most of us writers don't have that. Instead this fandom sometimes feels like a desolate wasteland for many of us.
Here's where us writers need to place the blame:
Since the introduction of algorithms, there has been a cyclical effect: popular Tumblr posts are boosted due to everyone's default feed settings and posts from new, lesser known blogs are pushed down.
Over years, this has impacted fandom spaces in a sort of feedback loop. We're currently seeing the late stages of this. This effect pushes most fandom activity towards the already popular blogs by default. (Yes, Tumblr has always shown popular posts first, but algorithms, and the feedback loops they create, have made the effect stronger over the years.)
Is that the "big writers" faults? No. Are friend groups to blame? No. In fact, we should have more friend groups in this fandom. That's how fandoms used to be. There were dozens of overlapping friend groups that would have long reblog chains and mainly interact with each other. New people could find other new people pretty easily and make their own groups.
Now new people/smaller blogs are far less exposed to other new people/smaller blogs by default. *That* is the problem.
Eventually, I found my people. I feel a part of the community and you can too.
You just need to make 3 virgin sacrifices and find the lochness monster in order to do so. What I mean is, it takes a lot more effort than it used to. Be ready for that:
1. Sort by "Latest posts" when searching fandom hashtags. Imagine if Ao3 used an algorithm to show popular fics first instead of sorting by most recent fics. New writers would be screwed, right? That's what Tumblr does. Support posts that resonate with you, but have low engagement. Leave likes, comments, reblogs! Guess what happens when someone that feels isolated in this fandom gets a bunch of notes from you? They're gonna check out your blog. They may want to connect!
2. DM people. Is there a lesser known blogger whose posts you like? Ask to be mutuals! Start a conversation! If you can't be social it's gonna be near impossible to build community. Sorry if you have anxiety, but that's the truth. Warning: half the convos will fizzle out. Move on to the next person as soon as you sense this.
3. Don't try to connect with bigger blogs for friendship. I've tried and as long as you gush over them, they respond, but the interaction ends there. DMing them works, but the convos almost always feel one sided and fizzle out. I'm mutuals with some bigger bloggers, but I had to add their usernames to my filtered content list in account settings. This means they can see my stuff, but I can't see theirs. Seeing them have fun in their friend group just reminds me of my failed attempts to connect. Maybe filtering them isn't fair, but that's how I deal with my negative emotions. No, they are not rude for not befriending me. I don't feel entitled to friendship.
(edit: I got a weird anon about this part. It's more difficult to befriend people who already have close-knit connections here. It's not impossible, but I've had much better luck with fellow isolated fandom members. The secret ingredient is our shared desperation lol. Befriend whoever you want ❤️)
4. Join/start a small PPCU discord server. The big servers will just make you feel more isolated, but the intimate ones are way more communal and it's easier to make stronger connections there than on Tumblr. 
These tips are for people that actually want to find solutions instead of spreading hate and complaining.
I'm saying this as someone that averages 50 notes on most of my fics after a year in this fandom(edit: saw this poll and thought I'd clarify. I get 50 notes now, but for 8ish months I got 5 on a lucky day. This post is for people who still feel isolated because I know how it feels.) It takes way more effort than in the early 2010s to feel a part of a fandom, not because of cliques, but because of the feedback loops the algorithm creates. 
I understand the frustration, but I'm not going to spread vitriol just because the fandom ecosystem went to shit. 
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