#(( keep in mind my muses are divergent ))

[hisbattles]

maybe i should just make a blog where i write both salvatore brothers bc.......

[cherry-leclerc]

i hate you. i hate you? ☆ cs55

genre: humor, fluff, love confessions, childhood friends to enemies/rivals to lovers (damn, tongue twister), maybe a bit angsty (don't worry too much about it though, lol), flashbacks that add to a tiny slow-burn

word count: 3.5k

The dwindling friendship that comes crashing down when you get offered the opportunity of a lifetime. Leading to a bumpy road with your best friend.

req!... i swear that when i put angst ITS NOT BAD. anyways, enjoy, anons!

Me encantaría formar parte del equipo, you muse whimsically, pigtails flying against the winter breeze. Sería un sueño hecho realidad. 

Despite being young, you knew you were different— came from a divergent background compared to those around you. Your family definitely didn’t have the resources to fulfill your dream to kart or race professionally. You partially blame your brothers for getting you into the sport. 

Si. Lo sería, a particular Spaniard, agrees. You smile. Your parents share a pitiful glance before sitting you down. It wasn’t going to happen, not because they didn’t want to but simply because they couldn’t afford such an expensive hobby that would probably kick you in the butt. 

That’s where your first guardian angel appeared. Carlos Sainz Sr. Better known as your best friend's father. Without a doubt, he offers to sponsor you, for he grew keen on having you around, enjoying time by the pool with his two girls and shy son. 

Was there a way you could ever thank him? No, not really— nothing would ever cover all he’s ever done for you, but you’d make sure to try your best to find a way. Even if it took you a lifetime. 

-

“You’ve known her for a lifetime! Probably five, for all we know!” Lando yelps, running a hand through his curls. “You can’t just call it quits on your friendship just like…” He snaps his fingers. 

Carlos shrugs. He fills up a styrofoam cup of coffee, silently offering one to his moody friend. The Brit rolls his colorful eyes. You’re making a mistake, he presses. It’s the Spaniards turn to grow serious. 

“Por favor—she should have thought about that before she stole my seat.”

That, you did. It wasn’t an easy decision to make. It could have never been, even if you had been warned. But suddenly you were getting an opportunity, the kind you only ever dreamt of. Carlos would be fine, he was a man who would eventually have a pile of teams interested in keeping him around. You, on the other hand, were surprised that anyone was even intrigued in having you form a part of their F1 team, much less— Ferrari. 

This was it, and you had to grab at the opportunity. You just never imagined losing a friend along the way.

Why would you even consider accepting? You flinch and he’s looking as if he regrets it, so you give him the benefit of the doubt. 

I know this isn’t what we were expecting, but think of it this way. I'd be coming in 2025 and you would already be too busy preparing to join Audi! It’ll work out. You’re still doing that, right? You knew he was, he had been so excited and told you as soon as he found out. Audi was in his blood.

He runs a large hand through his tangled hair, sighing. Still. You have to say no. You can’t do that to me. It’d be embarrassing.

Your shoulders drop an inch. Why? Because you’re being bought out or because a woman is keeping your seat? His silence is enough for your heart to break and for your mind to be made up.

I’m signing. 

-

There is indignation, and then there is you.

“You are such a—argh!” Pounding your fists against the locked door, you reach out to briskly twist the knob, trying your best to get out of the cramped room. The world was spinning, and you could feel a migraine rolling in strongly, but you swore—swore—you would kill him as soon as you got your hands on him. 

The morning had started off fairly simple. Show up, run a few tests on the stimulator, get to know a few of the mechanics you’d be working with, and finally, sign your contract. You had waited longer than intended, due to minor changes you had suggested, so you were extremely ready to get it done. This was supposed to be your day.

That is until the grumpy Spaniard pushed you, locked you in, and ran off before you had a chance to register what was going on. Fred had been adamant—show up on time. The next time he would be available would not be until three weeks, and that was ridiculously long if anyone were to ask. Carlos knew that.

Charles hums slowly, munching on a pack of M&M's when he hears the spine-chilling scream you let out, wood vibrating as you punch angrily. Hurrying over, he unlocks it from the outside, surprised by your appearance. Your hair is tussled, face is blotchy, vein throbbing. It’s definitely a sight to say the least. He mentions something about —he went that way— and —think about what you’re going to do— but you’re off before you settle with any of it.

The twists and turns make your head hurt, practically seeing red before you come to a halt. Smiling sophisticatedly, Carlos is sat, legs crossed, fingers pointing to his watch. No. “News for you, my dear friend; Fred just left.” The Spaniard winces playfully, already making his way out the door. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Charles was right. You should have thought about what you would do. Jumping onto his large back, your flimsy hands dig into the forest he calls hair, and pull. He screeches, swaying from side to side as he hurriedly tries to disconnect your legs from around his waist. Let go, he groans harder when you pinch his arm. 

“Why? Why did you do this—any of this?” At this point you’re kicking and screaming, panting, heaving. “Is it really that difficult to accept it? You lost. I’m in, you’re out.”

“At least we know she’s a fighter.”

Coming to a sudden stop, your eyes flicker to the familiar voice, instantly burning up. Fred taps his foot gingerly against the white tiles, an amused Monegasque standing right behind him. Jumping off of the sulky brunette, you begin to shake your head in disbelief, pointing towards the exit. “N-no…you’re supposed to be gone. He…” Then it hits you. This was a fucking set up.

“While I’m evenly impressed by your toughness, I will say, I think we should put a hold on signing.” Your stomach drops. The older man quickly waves his hands in dismissal, grinning apologetically. “We still want you! Nothing has changed, but I think it’s for the best that you fix things with Carlos before doing so. It’ll be good for you two.” With that, he bows his head, and strolls away, heading for the airport.

“I’m out too,” Charles whispered, slowly stepping back. “Fill me in on what happens, though!” 

As soon as your breath evens out—and Carlos creates a safe distance between you two—you let out a deranged chuckle. He almost cringes at the cold sound, but keeps his chin up high. “You did this all on purpose?” It’s a question but comes out more like a confirmation, which in a way, it was. Shutting your eyes, you tilt your head with a ghostly smile. “You knew he hadn’t left and let me make a fool out of myself. Why would you do that?” you grit, orbs laser focused on him as if you could light him up into flames if you really set your mind to it.  

“Why would I not?” he stubbornly spits back.

“You asshole, I’m just trying to make your dad proud.”

A pinch of guilt dives deep into his veins as he watches you stomp down the hallway, mindlessly tugging at his heart.

-

I say we let him burn, Ana pitches the idea, laying flat on her bed as you scoff with a knowing smile. 

Does it make me a bad person if I don’t disagree with you? 

She sits up, eyeing where you calmly paint down on a canvas. She squints her eyes. “What even is that?” Holding your art with pride, you shoot a sheepish smile. Nice, huh? The Spaniard’s youngest sister giggles, nose scrunching up at the dark sight. “I’m confused—is he supposed to look like that?”

You curl an analytical brow, shooting a quick snarl. “I think it’s pretty good. And yes. He’s supposed to be getting run over by my future car. What a sight.” You dramatically swoon.

Ana drops her stare, focusing instead with a teasing curl gripping the corner of her lips. “Remember when instead of plotting his death, you’d be fantasizing about a life with him? God, I could still remember all the hearts—the glitter.” She shudders, faintly recalling the mess in her room, which led to Reyes giving you both a good scolding, but not before winking at a red-faced you. 

Looking away feverishly, you shake your head, picking up the flimsy paint brush once again, never once bothering to make eye contact with her. “I was young. Stupid as shit. I can’t even remember what I loved about him.”

“Liked,” she corrects you.

You cough. “Right. Liked.”

-

If the Spaniard took the time to sit down, roll through a philosophical journey, wonder where things might have changed for him—it would have saved him enduring a puddle of dreadfulness at this very moment.

Ana’s wedding. The first of his sisters who would get married. It was a bittersweet day, and not just because she was finally leaving the family nest. “Who is she…” he can hear himself ask. Almost demand. The brunette smirks, slightly pleased. 

“My best friend. You’re nemesis,” she jokes. 

Carlos growls slowly, lightly pinching her cheek as she yelps. “With. You know what I mean.”

“Lalo. She met him a few weeks ago. Very nice guy.” A beat. “Please don’t ruin my wedding.”

But he’s not even listening. Brown eyes follow to where you stand straight, arms crossed over your body like a shield. He always knew you’d been self-conscious, but never understood why. You were stunning. Lavender dress hugs your curves beautifully. A trace of honey fills any area you fall into. Your hair is nicely pinned up, allowing him to enjoy your silky skin. 

And it seems like Lalo too.

Rubbing a large hand against his smooth jaw—which was only neat since Reyes had hounded him to fix his appearance for his sister’s big day—he smoothly made his way over. Rupert warns the Spanirad with his eyes, but Carlos scoffs. Did everyone think he had something up his sleeve? 

“Enjoying yourselves?”

Mid-sip, your face freezes, doe-eyes flickering between Lalo, then Carlos. Then Carlos, then Lalo. God, when did the room begin to boil? Your voice gets caught in your throat, to make matters worse. Carlos’ personal trainer pity’s you for a split second, deciding to help out. “The drinks are stellar, mate. We’ve been hogging the bar for so long at this point.”

The brown eyed boy studies your so-called date, faking a cold smile. “You don’t say…Carlos, by the way,” he says, extending his arm out. “Remind me of your name again, sorry, she’s just never mentioned you before. At all, really. I apologize.”

“That’s okay, we only just met a few weeks ago. We’re taking it slow.” We’re. The word itself makes the 29 year old fear he might puke right then and there. “Eduardo, but you can call me Lalo. Huge fan.”

“Mines or hers?” Carlos bitterly questions, thick lips forming a straight line. Lalo awkwardly clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, pulling away and leaning in to hold you close. 

“Guess it’s my turn to apologize now. Hers. Always. But you’re pretty cool, too, I suppose.” His voice is light, unbothered. It makes Carlos tick furiously, though he doesn’t dare show it. You can’t pinpoint the moment tension rose up, snapping you out of your trance. Blinking hastily, you aim a sour snarl at the Spaniard. 

“We were sort of having a good time, so…” You shoo him away with a jeweled hand. “I just don’t want to kill the vibes. You understand, right?” Barely giving him a chance to respond, you turn back to your conversation, leaving Lalo and Rupert to appear puzzled, but stupidly playing along.

With a raw click of the tongue, the 29 year old takes a step forward, leveling down to your ear. “Pretend all you want, but you’re still wearing my initials around that pretty wrist of yours.” And walks away.

It was true. Your parents had gifted you a lucky charm bracelet for your fourteenth birthday, and Carlos greedily beat everyone to it. A car, for your love for Formula One. A chili, a shy thank you for his nickname. An ice cream, well, because you just loved ice cream. And a cursive CS. For him. 

Watching him walk away left you with a hole in your heart. You did not need a reminder like that on a day like this. Wearing it was purely out of habit, it had no meaning to it anymore. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. The need to use the restroom was a complete lie as you wordlessly peek for the broad Spaniard. You spot his glossy shoes first, sticking out the photo booth. 

“Scoot,” you say, gently cramming him in deeper. Once you get situated, you slide the silver charm off, handing it over to him. “Here.”

He furrows his dark brows. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want anything tying me back to you anymore. It was kind—sweet—but that was past you. You’re cruel, mean, rude, a fucking jerk now. I don’t like that, so— here.”

“I don’t want it,” he retorts, curling your flat hand into a fist, forcing you to hold it tight. 

“Well I don’t either, so what is there to do? You know what; I’ll just sell it. It’s not even that significant,” you mumble, already making your way out, but not before he hauls you back. Falling straight onto his thigh. You can feel your pulse quicken, your cheeks tingle, and your eyes suddenly burn. “Let me go,” you squeal, trying your best to weasel out of his grip. He groans, placing a large hand on either side of your hips, pushing you down.

“No. Just listen to me first.” Sighing, you nod. You should be climbing off; there’s room for two. He should be pushing you off; there’s room for two. But none of that happens as he clears his throat, rehearsing his words over and over before you raise a neat brow, waiting for him. “Perdón. Por todo.” 

Not what you were expecting and he could tell when you let out a small gasp. Nervously, he licks his lips, admiring your plump ones that don’t lay too far off from his own. “I used to be so proud of you when we were just kids. When you first admitted you wanted to race too. It was adorable, the way your eyes lit up.” Your breath deepens, unknowing of what this was leading to. “But I’ve always been proud. That’s never changed.”

“You’re a terrific liar,” you timidly chuckle, patting his shoulder, making him back off a little. But he only ricochets forward, twice as close. Your insides churn. 

“You don’t know how fucking happy I was when you got a seat. Over the moon. But I won’t lie; I was hurt and said some shitty things that have no excuse tied to them. I know I hurt you—I know that now. But that feeling vanished when worry came creeping in. I don’t want you to sign that contract.”

You flinch, reality crashing down on you once again as you examine the Ferrari driver. “Why apologize if you haven’t changed? My feelings aren’t a joke,” you whimper pathetically, tears sliding down your cheeks, soft brows drawn together. 

He panics, gingerly brushing them away to the best of his ability and you don’t have the power to fight him off anymore. You’re too busy getting your heart broken once again by the same man. 

She’s beautiful. Insanely—it’s insane. Her eyes are a shade of green I’d never thought I’d like.

I once wore a shade of green shorts last summer and you called them ugly. Said it looked like vomit. 

Carlos sighs dreamily, dominantly shaking his head. 

Well crap. I must’ve changed my mind.

Present him, was taking in your frantic sobs and he doesn’t know how else to calm you if it's not by rubbing your back gently. It takes a while, but you eventually ease up, occasionally letting out a shaky breath. “First of all, let me tell you why I did everything within me for you not to sign. It’s no good.”

You tilt your head in confusion, nose runny as he hands you his handkerchief. “I-I’m confused.”

Carlos chuckles. “What was the one thing I would always complain to you about when I was away racing?” Lack of privacy? “Okay, second thing I raved about…” When you don’t answer, he sheepishly wiggles his brows. “How tired I was with my team. It’s exhausting because like it or not—we’re not at our prime. I don’t think we will be for a couple of years. But for my benefit, I’ll be gone, and then it’s only going to fall on-”

“Me,” you finish, glossy eyes dancing through his painful expression.

 He nods. “Listen, Charles will be fine. Mentally not, but he’ll do just okay. It’s you I’m worried about. Not only will you dive in, nose first into a world of ruthless men, but you’ll always be the entire blame. In their eyes, it'll be you. What did you do wrong? How could you fuck up? And sure, you might sometimes—it's inevitable— but other times you won’t. But you’re a girl, and that’s enough for the fingers to be pointed at you.”

Shaking your head profusely, you instantly reach up to catch your hair from falling from its tiring up-do. He helps you out, combing his fingers nicely, though this time it doesn’t get rid of the queasy feeling. He was right. God, why did he have to be right? 

“I’m well aware of what I’m about to get myself into. But I think I can handle it. I can’t not do it—imagine how many girls it would help pave the way for? I’m sure as fuck it won’t be easy, and it might threaten my sanity, but I need to do this. And I’m sorry.”

An unfamiliar wave crashes against his warm eyes, a low breath being expanded into the air. You can feel it, taste it. Mint mojito. Your body told you, you liked it, with the way you wanted to lean in and kiss him—just to confirm. Pursing your lips, you continue. “You have your future decided and I have mine.”

With a hesitant bow, and a tide of curls flying forward, he clears his throat. “You’ve always been this way. Dedicated. And I could never decipher why. Until now.” He can’t help but brush his nose against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, allowing him to appreciate your pretty features. “If you’re sure, then I’m right behind you.”

You almost want to laugh, but are too scared to ruin the moment, so instead count his freckles. “I am…” A sharp inhale. “But what’s the second thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said ‘first of all’. I would assume there’s more…” You know there is, but you just want to hear him say it aloud. You’d seen the way he glared viciously at Lalo, chest firming. You’d seen the way things had shifted between you two, months prior, after his break up.

If this racing thing doesn’t work out, you would make a killer artist. He whistles.

Down boy, you joke. It’s just a swan. I resonate with them. 

He sits up straighter. Then consider me a swan, too.

You laugh loudly, tossing your head back as he smiles. Why all of a sudden?

Just.

“It took me a while to get here, but I’m here.” He cradles your delicate face. “I think I love you. I-I mean I know I love you. Your stubbornness, your compliance. Your level-headedness, your intrusive actions. Your need to persevere and be better—even if others make it hard on you.” You giggle, poking his chest. “But above all, I love the way you made me work for it. I’m glad you did because how else could I have realized if you didn’t drag that dead-beat?”

“Hey! He’s nice!”

The 29 year old tsks. “Nice isn’t enough and you know it.” His pink lips graze over yours as you lean in too. “You’ve always been a smart girl…” He’s about to kiss you when you slide back, leaving him hanging. He clenches his jaw, seeming teased. 

“I love swans because I know I can love as deep as one.” 

“I can too.”

“And I know, you know, that I love you too.”

“I do know that.”

“And I lit you up on fire, but only on paper!”

His brows furrow. “Yeah, we can circle back to that. But I don’t care. I love all that about you. And I want you to know my father has always been proud of you.” He winks. “But never as much as me.”

“We’re doing this then?” you ask nervously. “Y-you’re still going to have to grovel. I don’t give up that easily. Especially after all you’ve put me through.”

Carlos gently nods, eyes adoring you. “I’ve waited more than a decade for this moment. What’s one more?”

And he kisses you.

taglist: @urfavnoirette @lpab @d3kstar @namgification @myownwritings

*feel free to let me know if you would like to be included in the general taglist!!

[diremoone]

under the clouds, in my heart | g. satoru

it’s these kinds of days that make Satoru the happiest — that remind him of the wonderful things he has in his life now; thunderstorms where his wife and children are safe and protected inside of his home are all he could ask for

w — post canon! gojo, canon-divergence, pregnant! reader, former first-year student! reader, mentions of underage relationship, mentions of being in a former! student-teacher relationship, Papa Satoru & Mama Reader, Satoru and Reader have a (growing) big family, this ended up shorter than I anticipated

a/n: another fix it fic you guys 🤧 this one has been in my drafts longer than 236

[ apart of the TFFTS universe! ]

He loves seeing you cozied up in his sweaters, no matter the time of year (he secretly keeps it colder than normal in the summertime so you’ll put them on, but he’ll never tell you that). He loves how the hemline rests at your knees, a testament to the cute height difference between the two of you.

With your pregnancy belly, like now, sweaters only seem reach mid-thigh.

Ah, he’s not complaining.

He’s back from a mission overseas a day early, one he committed to speed-running like a demon so he could get back to his growing family. It wasn’t too necessary, considering he doesn’t have to do many more missions nowadays. The only reason he was summoned was because of his long, long influence, to which he most definitely used to get back faster.

But the universe hits his Pause button the second he warps back into his lovely home. For good reason. His heavenly blue eyes take in the scene in front of him, soul imprinting this memory into itself for eternity.

Seiji, his five-nearly-six year-old firstborn, was curled up on your lap, head using your thighs as a makeshift pillow. Traitor. Satoru can hear little snores escaping his lips at the awkward position his head is in. But if Satoru tilts his head, he can see his son’s protective decision from where his head and body lay.

Sanari, his sweet daughter, is curled up by your left arm. Her white curls of hair are splayed out on the pillow behind her as her head rests on your shoulders. Satoru chuckles. He can clearly see drool at the corner of her mouth pooling onto the sweater of his you’re wearing.

Lightning lights up the sky outside. And suddenly, the gushing sound of rain is all Satoru can hear — a downpour. Huh, the clouds had been just as white as his hair earlier. He supposes anything can happen though.

He can’t even see outside anymore now. The greenery has been completely overtaken by the opaque gray of the intense rain and thunderstorm.

Satoru’s head snaps back to you and his sleeping offspring. As much as he wants to join, he can’t bring himself to. He wants to do anything besides ruin the picturesque moment in time before him.

Just look at the family he’s made for himself.

Ah, but the squirming toddler in your arms may do just that anyway. So he doesn’t debate taking Junpei from your arms as he begins to scrunch up his adorable little nose.

Besides, Satoru’s sure you’re bound to wake up soon. His Six Eyes tells him that because the cursed energy from within your tummy is starting to become restless, the twins are finally waking up.

A big family hadn’t been on his mind. You both agreed on leaving your family with Junpei as your youngest. Especially with you falling pregnant so soon with him after having trouble with Sanari’s pregnancy and birth.

But things don’t always go to plan, do they? Satoru muses.

Taking the littlest that'll soon be a big brother wakes you from your nap. You inhale and exhale deeply as your eyes flutter open, blinking quite a few times before your vision clears.

“….’toru~” Your sleepy inhale sounds like a cute sniffle; he can’t help but grin. “You’re home?”

“Surprise, baby,” Satoru mumbles as he sits down and leans over the couch and over your pregnant belly to sweetly kiss your lips. “I’ll be home for awhile this time,” he adds softly. One arm holds his son, the other wraps around the back of your shoulders, hand resting on your upper arm to gently pull your body into him to deepen the kiss. You can’t help but giggle against his lips, and he smiles and giggles into it in return.

Lightning brightens the sky, this time for the longest you’ve ever seen. And following it, is the mightiest thunderclap you’ve ever heard. It makes even your husband jump, surprised by the deafening boom. Your lips separate from Satoru’s, who’s looking out the window with you, impressed by the power of Mother Nature.

It wakes Seiji and Sanari, who despite their maturity for their age, show their age by the fat tears pooling at their eyelids. Junpei, fully awake, begins to cry too, slightly louder than his older siblings. The toddler buries himself into his daddy’s shoulder for comfort and protection. And when the other two see their dad, who’s back home early, they jump to him and do the exact same, hugging him and burrowing into his chest and neck.

You’d take a picture had your babies not been so scared.

When your hand rubs Seiji’s back, the little boy turns to you, eyes watery with fear. He takes two little steps on the couch and softly stumbles into your outstretched arms. He rests his bottom on your thigh, head burrowed into the crook of your neck, little hands balled up into fists with the sweater you were wearing between his itty bitty fingers.

“Come on, Seiji. Off Mama’s belly,” Satoru says, a slight tinge of worry to his voice as he sees him lay a little too heavily on your rounded middle.

The little boy gasps lightly and moves. “Sorry, Mama. Sorry babies.”

You chuckle and kiss his tiny forehead. Satoru presses his lips to the side of his son’s temple, his free hand reaching for his sides to tickle him, saying things about how cute he was.

Sanari takes the moment to detach from her daddy’s side and dives back into your ribs, albeit much more carefully than her older brother. She sniffles, still scared from the clash of thunder, but much calmer now that both her parents were home and awake. She burrows her head under your arm, almost behind your back, leaving her nose room to breathe in the cool air and the sweater that smells like both you and her papa.

It’s so cute, Satoru thinks. She’s the complete opposite of him. She’s the more quiet and reserved one of her siblings. And he still suspects that she still will after her younger twin siblings will be born. Satoru has a feeling, knows in his gut that they’ll be the most extroverted of his children, bouncing off the walls just like he does every day.

Though not so much anymore, heh. He’s still a childish person at heart, but his age is slowly getting to him, slowly beginning to chip away at his ability to be the flamboyant jujutsu sorcerer he used to be. He can feel the ache of time and age begin to take root in the bones of his body that had been so tempered.

In its place, however, took fatherhood, took a new and different kind of responsibility that he was more than excited for — days filled with new challenges, watching his kids grow as he smothers them with love.

His former students were more than capable of handling the load he used to. There’s plenty more of them nowadays than there is of him. With most of them all Special Grade sorcerers, too, he muses. Including you. But you don’t partake in missions like that, mostly being in the reserves of jujutsu society and using your reverse cursed energy like Shoko has.

Especially since becoming a mom.

Satoru sees the rainy day lulling you back to sleep. Being five-and-a-half months pregnant with twins, while also caring for three more while her husband was away would make any woman tired.

His offspring, however, were wide awake.

“Go upstairs and go to sleep,” Satoru says quietly. He sees the waves of fatigue hit every time you blink several times in one go. Your happy expression is getting harder to hold as you grow tired all over again, and Satoru thinks he’s going to have to carry you upstairs, fearing you falling.

But you, ever-stubborn, refuse. “I’m okaaay,” you reply, yawning into the words.

The white-haired man chuckles and shakes his head. “Go to bed,” he says, this time in a more commanding tone. “I’ll wake you up in a couple hours with food ready.”

And when he makes that face, the cutesy one that also means he’s more than happy to carry you to bed, you don’t argue. He does, however, help you up off the couch and watches from the bottom of the stairs to make sure you lose balance and tip backwards. Satoru blows you a kiss, to which you chomp down at, mock-devouring his kisses. He gasps, fake offended, and it gets the giggle out of you he’s hoping for before you go into the bedroom.

Satoru’s heart swells with adoration and love. It overflows even more as he turns back to his two sons and his daughter. God, he almost wants to cry. What did he do to deserve such happiness in his life? After everything he’s done, that’s happened to him, when did the universe decide a beautiful wife and sweet, adorable children were in the cards for him?

He doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s going to hold his family close to his heart and protect them until his last breath.

a/n: this got published at a completely random time lmao, where did this even come from? this’ll flop for sure but everyone who reads pls enjoy anyway

[aemondsquill]

Across The Stars

Aemond Targaryen × Niece!Reader

Synopsis: Reader delivers a marriage proposal to Lord Borros, Aemond does not take kindly to it.

Warnings: smut, violence, canon divergence, angst ofc, Aemond is mean during some parts, imprisonment, misogyny, abuse, lmk if I missed any

A/N: sorry bout the wait, gang! School has been kicking my ass lately but I promise more frequent updates from now on!

Thick swirling clouds blanketed the skies above Storm' End as Y/N dismounted her beast. The mighty Cannibal's throat rumbled in uncertainty at the situation. The spark of lighting across the gray sky illuminated Vhagar's monstrous form, which did nothing to ease his tension. Y/N rested a hand over his scaly snout in assurance. There would be no fighting today as she had only been sent as an envoy and surely even her uncle Aemond could respect that, he was slave to propriety, after all.

Y/N took a moment to gather her thoughts. Her fingers trembled at her sides as anxiety riddled her mind. She took a breath. 'Mother needs this alliance', she reminded herself. With a sharp exhale she pulled her heavy woolen cloak tighter around her and approached the guards.

Their shiny silver helmets seemed dull under the clouds and their faces were pinched in confusion.

"State your business!" Shouted a guard. His voice was as gruff as his appearance. It appeared as though he had not had a restful sleep in quite some time.

"I have a message for Lord Borros from Queen Rhaenyra, Ser." Y/N replied confidently. She held out a scroll with the Queen's waxy seal stamped upon it. The guard glanced at it and motioned for the door to be opened. A group of men escorted her into the keep.

"Princess Y/N Velaryon, daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen!"

Y/N's eyes followed the foreboding stone walls until they met Aemond's. Her breath caught in her throat and a sliver of pain struck her heart as she saw him next to Lord Borros's daughter. Her mind could not rid itself of the secret kisses and soft embraces they shared so long ago back when they were mere children, a time when war wasn't even a thought in their heads. Surely even he could not have forgotten her so easily?

Y/N rid herself of her foolish thoughts. She could not dwell on the past and she had a mission now.

"Lord Borros, I have brought you a message from my mother, the Queen." Y/N spoke.

"Yet earlier today I received a message from the King. Which is it? King or Queen?" Lord Borros mused, though the humor did not reach his eyes. "The house of the dragon does not seem to know who rules it!", the man chuckled, "what's your mother's message?" A guard grabbed the sealed letter out of Y/N's hand and presented it to Lord Borros. He held it for a moment before calling out for a maester.

An old maester scurried to his side and unsealed the letter, glancing at it briefly before leaning towards the Lord's ear.

Lord Borros's face crumpled into anger. "Remind me of my father's oath?" He seethed. Y/N slightly grimaced at his tone. Her heart sank as she realized she was out of options.

"King Aegon at least came with an of-"

"I offer you my own hand, my Lord." The court was silent at Y/N's bold proposal. She could feel Aemond's sharp stare burning into her, but she refused his eye. Shame prickled her spine and tears felt heavy behind her eyes. Lord Borros seemed to be lost for words, but his face held an expression of intrigue.

"You are offering me your hand in marriage, girl? Your mother is that desperate for my alliance that she'd give up her precious daughter?" He spoke. Y/N clasped her hands together to hide their trembling and swallowed thickly, "My Lord, war calls for desperate measures. I do not give my hand lightly, but I believe you and I would make a formidable match. With me at your side you would gain the Cannibal, one of the most fearsome dragons alive, and you would gain the favor of the Queen. Our marriage would promise you a position on the Small Council as well as an expansion of your lands. Your daughters would be given suitable matches, much more lucrative than the hand of a second son with no lands." Y/N spared a glance at Aemond, who was seething next to his betrothed.

Lord Borros sat back comfortably on his throne and thought of his options.

"Princess Y/N, Prince Aemond, please join us for dinner tonight. I shall allow both of you to plea for your cause and I will make a decision on the morrow. It would be an honor to host a prince and princess of the Realm." He smirked. Y/N nearly rolled her eyes at his invitation, but suppressed the urge with a tight smile.

"It would be an honor, my Lord."

----

Lord Borros was generous enough to provide the prince and princess their own quarters for the night. Y/N sank into a soft velvety settee in front of the roaring fireplace. She sighed heavily and watched the rain pelt against the ornate glass windows heavily. A maid left a few moments ago to fetch her a proper gown for the dinner.

A heaviness settled into her chest at the thought of entertaining Lord Borros tonight. If she plays her part well enough, then she will be bound to him until death. She let a tear slip down her cheek at the thought of her demise. Hopefully he would be an indifferent husband. He had a slew of daughters already so all she had to do was provide an heir or two to make him happy.

A rapid series of knocks yanks Y/N out of her trance. She sits up and wipes her tears away before smoothing the skirts of her dress.

"Come in!" She called out. Still she sat facing the fire, "just place it on the bed. I can put it on myself."

"Do you enjoy whoring yourself out, dear niece?" A cold voice traveled through the room. Y/N stood abruptly and turned to face the man.

"Aemond..." Y/N breathed out.

"It seems you take after your whore mother." Anger spiked inside Y/N. "My mother is not a whore and she will have your treacherous head on a spike next to the usurper!"

"Such harsh words, niece. That is no way to speak to your Prince."

"Why did you come here, uncle? I do not want your company."

Aemond glared at her for a moment, his temper rising.

"Surely Lord Borros would not take some bastard whore as a wife! Tell me, sweet niece, does your future husband know of the kisses we shared? I doubt he'd take you as his bride knowing you no longer have your maidenhead." His cruel taunts rang in her ears and tears sprung to her eyes. He stalked forward towards a trembling Y/N, reveling in the tears she shed.

"My maidenhead is still intact! We never laid together and you know that! Why are you being so cruel to me?" Y/N sobbed. She hated the power he had over her, even with his cruel words. Aemond reached out and stroked her cheek, catching a tear on his finger. Slowly he brought the finger to his mouth and groaned lowly at the salty taste of her anguish.

"A mere whisper of your tarnished virtue could destroy your betrothal before it begins" Aemomd threatened. Lust and anger sparkled in his eye as he pushed her against the wall and breathed in the scent of her slender neck. Y/N shuddered as his nose made contact with her skin, gooseflesh pebbling in its wake.

"Or perhaps I shall take you right here against this wall and put my bastard in your belly. Wouldn't you like that, sweet niece?" Aemond crooned in her ear. Y/N shook her head fiercely, "no! Aemond, please do not do this! I am under Lord Borros's protection and you cannot harm me!"

Aemond paused as he surveyed the room.

"Lord Borros is not here, niece, and I know you have not forgotten your affection for me" His slender fingers hiked up the skirts of her dress and stroked her squishy thighs. He closed his eye and groaned at the contact.

"But I am not cruel, my love. I will not take you unwillingly as I am cursed with affection for you as well." He whispered softly. Without a second glance, Aemond rushed out of the room and left Y/N in turmoil. She collapsed to the ground, dissolving into a puddle of tears. She hated Aemond. She hated the way he could taunt her so cruelly, yet fill her with such yearning for his affection. Being with him hurt her in the most delicious possible way.

-----

The dinner was enveloped in a stony silence. The only sound was the clinking of silverware. Fat slabs of beef and pork lay on silver platters flanked by flaky breads and fire-roasted vegetables. Y/N stirred a spiced soup numbly as she sat next to Lord Borros and across from her uncle. Floris Baratheon was beside him and attempted to make any form of conversation. Unfortunately for her, Aemond One-Eye was not known for being so courteous. Instead, his cold violet eye was locked onto Y/N.

"Princess Y/N, Prince Aemond, I humbly thank the both of you for attending this dinner. I wish we could welcome the both of you into our family, but that is not the nature of war, is it?" Lord Borros spoke. Y/N met his eyes and acknowledged him slightly. She took a breath before downing her goblet of wine. She would require much more if she was to build up the courage to persuade Borros to marry her.

"Please, my Lord, the honor is all mine. It is a pleasure to be welcomed into your home." Y/N smiled broadly. From the corner of her eye she could see Aemond grip his utensils until his knuckles turned white. She smirked and continued to gaze into Lord Borros's eyes, "I would be pleased to be betrothed to such a fearsome man such as yourself."

Lord Borros took a swig of mead as Y/N honeyed words melted into his ears. He grinned at her as his eyes swirled with lust.

"Men from every corner of the Realm would envy me for having such a beautiful young bride on my arm. The bedding ceremony would be such a site for them to see!" Aemond nearly choked on his wine at Borros's words. All eyes were on him and he looked at Y/N. Despite her grin, he could see the fear behind her lilac eyes. Vicious hatred made his hands tremble.

Finally, he looked away and gazed at the beautiful Floris Baratheon. Only animosity and hurt fueled his words. "You have the sweetest lips of all your sisters, my Lady."

Y/N felt the lump in her throat swell painfully before taking another sip of wine.

"I could bear you many sons, my Lord. My lineage suggests we will be fruitful with heirs." Lord Borros sucked in a breath at her words. The promise of many passionate nights with the princess seemed to solidify the drunken man's decision.

"Send a raven to the Queen, my Princess. We will wed within a fortnight." Lord Borros roughly grabbed Y/N by the sides of her face and pulled her in for a sloppy kiss. Aemond shot out of his seat at the sight, nearly gripping the dagger around his waist. He schooled his breath for a moment before speaking.

"Forgive me, my Lord, you said you would come to your decision on the morrow. Do not be so hasty with your treason." The prince seethed. The drunken Lord let out a wheezing laugh.

"My prince, I have made my decision! I will not allow you to dictate my affairs under my own roof!"

"Your King will not forget this transgression." Aemond sat down calmly and continued to eat his meal. Y/N let out a breath, thankful this night did not end in bloodshed. She had seen Aemond maim and kill for a lot less. The foolish Lord Borros should be grateful to still have his head. She was ashamed to admit that a small part of her hoped Aemond would unleash his vile anger and cut down Lord Borros to save her from this marriage.

The dinner continued as it was supposed to. Lord Borros made thinly-veiled promises to the princess that made her skin crawl and Aemond quake in fury.

-----

The princess was escorted back to her chambers by Lord Borros's personal guards. It took several attempts to convince him that they should wait until their wedding day to consummate their relationship, as it would be improper to do so before. Y/N sighed as she entered her chambers. This is not how she wanted this night to go. She wished to be back neslted in her mother's arms on Dragonstone. Back where it was safe and warm.

Slowly, Y/N unlaced her bodice and let her elaborate gown fall to her feet. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her shaking fingers fumbled with the laces of her corset. She prayed to the gods to spare her of this heartache, even if it meant her death.

Her head felt like it was filled with thick jelly and her stomach full of lead as she climbed into the feather bed. Sleep did not take her and she tossed and turned for what felt like hours.

The moon hung was obscured by the storm, so Y/N could not tell what time is was when she heard her chamber door creak open. She rolled over to see who had intruded on her self-pity. To her surprise and heartache is was her Aemond.

He closed the door softly and walked slowly to her bedside before lifting the thick blanket and crawling in. His arm slung around her waist as he pulled her to his chest.

"You were cruel to me today." Y/N spoke shakily. He sighed against the back of her neck causing the hairs to prick up.

"I know. I'm sorry, my princess. I did not mean my vile words." His warm hand turned her over so they were face to face. Aemond felt his heart crack at the sight of his sweet niece with tears leaking from her eyes. Slowly, he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to hers. She sighed softly at the contact and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. They stayed like that for a few moments; lips moving in tandem, tasting each other for the last time.

Y/N felt his hardness poking against her thigh and gently ground her hips against it. Aemond moaned into her mouth at the contact.

"Careful, niece. I would not want to tarnish your virtue." He warned. She panted against his lips, "I don't care, my love, please take me." With that, Aemond's last tether of control snapped and he rolled her fully onto her back. His finger slipped down between her silken folds. He groaned at the feeling of her sticky arousal and pushed a finger in. Y/N gasped in delight at the slight stretch, her breasts heaving beneath her thin nightgown.

"Please, Aemond..." she whined, overcome with pleasure.

"Please, what, sweet niece? Tell me what you want."

"I want your cock. Please, fill me with your seed!" Y/N was desperate for more of him and he was all too thrilled to oblige.

Aemond sat back on his heels and unlaced his breeches before hiking up Y/N's nightgown. He grasped his length and stroked it against her slick folds, holding back a groan.

Slowly, he sank the tip of his cock in, hissing in pleasure. Then inch by inch, he filled his sweet niece's cunt to the hilt, watching her face contort in pleasure. He stilled for a moment, fearing that he might climax so suddenly.

Y/N was breathless beneath him. The delicious stretch of his cock was overwhelming and she could've wept at his tenderness.

"Please, Aemond...Please move" Y/N begged as she wiggled her hips. A firm hand rested against her hip, "patience, little one."

Aemond slowly started rocking into her, eyes rolled back as he relished her delighted squeals and moans.

He whimpered against her throat at the tightness of her cunt, squeezing him so exquisitely.

A primal urge to breed her trickled through his spine as his sped up his thrusts. He would be the one to put heirs in her. She was his, this farce of a marriage she concocted with the Baratheon Lord be damned!

"F-fuck, Y/N, you're mine!" He growled against her lips. She nodded fervently, "only yours, Aemond!" Her tongue was silky against own as he swallowed her moans.

The wet sounds of their coupling filled the room and the heavy scent of sex hung heavily in the air. Y/N felt an unfamiliar sensation building in her belly, shocks of pleasure coursing through her as Aemond's cock stroked the rough patch within her.

"A-Aemond" she whined, "'M gon-na..." she couldn't finish her thought as pleasure rippled through her in overwhelming waves. Aemond covered her mouth before she could let out a scream.

"Shhh, sweet girl. That's it, you're being such a good girl for me" he whispered praises into her ear. The words only served to enhance to earth-shattering orgasm that ripped through her.

The vision of his niece in the throes of ecstasy only propelled him towards his own climax. He grunted as his hot seed coated her twitching walls, making sure she got every last bit.

With a sigh, he slumped down on top of Y/N, kissing her hairline. He wrapped his arms around her in a tight, sweet embrace before pulling his cock from her drenched folds.

He watched in fascination as his cum leaked out of her. He took two fingers and gathered what had leaked out before pushing back into her. Y/N moan softly at the feeling, her cunt slightly twitching at the overstimulation.

"We shouldn't waist any of this. Soon, you will be swollen with my child." A devious smirk stretched across his lips.

-----

The early morning sun peaked through the windows, nearly blinding Y/N. She shivered, despite being tucked under numerous thick blankets. Slowly she reached out for Aemond, but was only met with a bed, cold and abandoned.

Betrayal shot through her veins at the realization. He had just left her like she was nothing. Despair ached in her chest and her shoulders shuddered as she stifled her cries. Her tender heart was no match for his cruelty.

-----

The afternoon rolled around slowly. The day was spent exploring the castle with her newly appointed lady's maids and her future stepdaughters. It was strange knowing they were no older than she was, but she supposed it would make her marriage tolerable. Although Floris had made herself scarce, still upset that her father robbed her of a marriage to a handsome prince.

Maris, however, seemed taken with the princess.

"Forgive my words, my Princess, but your uncle seems like a cunt." Y/N chuckled at her boldness, but could not find it within herself to disagree.

"Indeed, my Lady. One can only hope he gets his comeuppance during this war."

----

Y/N still had yet to send a raven to her mother, informing her of her upcoming nuptials to Lord Baratheon. This had not been apart of their plan to secure Storm's End, but Y/N could not risk going back on her word. So, after her swallowing her pride and bile, Y/N took a quill to parchment and sent it to Dragonstone.

Across the sea, Queen Rhaenyra nearly collapsed at the news of her daughter's betrothal. This is not what she envisioned for her daughter! She had begged Daemon to kill Borros or burn Storm's End to the ground, but he only held her as she let out her grief.

------

Nearly seven months had passed since the wedding of Lord Borros Baratheon and Princess Y/N Velaryon. It was a grand affair, full of food, drink, and dancing. Whispers say that the Lord Baratheon was nearly blind with drunkness and could barely mount his new bride. Spectators grew bored of the dire bedding ceremony and quickly left as soon as they heard the snores from Borros.

Y/N had been trapped under him, dignity destroyed and humiliated, but thankful that it had ended so quickly.

Today, Borros seemed overjoyed that his seed had taken so quickly in his bride. He spent nearly every moment rubbing a palm against her swelling stomach, much to Y/N's dismay.

"My Lord husband, I should like to visit my mother soon. I have not seen her in quite some time." Y/N gently requested. Borros looked up at her through his thick eyebrows, confusion coloring his face.

"Did you not just visit her a mere fortnight ago?" Y/N paused, nerves eating at her stomach. "Yes, but with the war going I feel like my place is by her side."

"Your place is by your husband's side, wife." Borros reminded her harshly, "your frequent absence has been noticed by the court and I will not be humiliated in my own Hall!" Y/N flinched at his tone. While he never laid a hand on her since falling pregnant, that did not save her from his harsh words. "Of course, my Lord husband, I apologize." Y/N bowed her head to hide her tears and Lord Borros stood up in front of her.

"Do not weep so openly, wife. It is unbecoming of you." Y/N wiped her tears quickly, shame oozing through her.

"May I be dismissed, Lord husband?"

Lord Borros nodded and Y/N's skirts swished around her ankles as she hastily made her way to her chambers.

She settled infront of the fire after looking her doors tightly. The flames licking the stone of the hearth reminded her of the night she shared with Aemond so long ago. She held her belly at the memory. Y/N knew that her time was running out. When the child is born, her lies will be exposed and Borros would surely kill her. There would be no denying the white haired babe is Aemond's.

Y/N had to distract herself from her nightmarish thoughts. She picked up a stack of letters from her brothers and carefully read through each one. The most recent correspondence, from Jace, has stated Daemon had tricked Aemond into taking Harrenhal. Her heart panged painfully in her chest. She hated him for leaving her at Storm's End. Every day she prayed he would come back for her and their child and every day her hope diminished. With Vhagar and the Cannibal they could escape this war together and raise their child in peace.

Y/N placed the letter neatly on top of the stack. It had been weeks since she sent her reply to Jace, yet she had heard nothing in return. Had her own brother forgotten her as well?

In her grief, she fell into a deep slumber with the fire warming her bones.

----

Days had passed since Y/N had reminisced over the letters and still no word had reached her.

She sat in the dining room with her Lord husband and his daughters. A light chatter flowed through the air, but Y/N could not find herself interested in the conversation. Until Borros interrupted her thoughts.

"Wife, I have heard news from Harrenhal," the smile on his lips was anything but kind. Still, Y/N perked up.

"Your stepfather and uncle had fierce battle above the God's Eye Lake. My sources tell me that both perished!" The news shook Y/N to her core, yet Borros continued. "The mighty Vhagar and Caraxes fell with their riders and neither had been seen since. I know of your affections for your uncle and of the bastard in your belly." Fear took hold of Y/N's throat. She felt dizzy as sweat beaded on her forehead. The dining hall came to a standstill. Not a word or clink of silverware could be heard.

"My Lord h-husband, I assure yo-"

Borros raised a hand to silence her. "For too long have you played me for a fool, girl. I will not tolerate such disgusting insolence in my house!" He shouted and Y/N jumped at his loud words. Her heart thrashed against her ribs as she pleaded to him for mercy, but it was in vain.

Lord Borros had Y/N escorted back to her chambers, imprisoning her.

Y/N was still breathless at the news of her stepfather and her Aemond. Borros was lying. He had to be!

She let out a shriek that shook the foundation of Storm's End until her throat burned and her voice became raspy.

Sorrow clouded her mind and stabbed at her heart with its every beat.

-----

Y/N could not tell how much time had passed since her imprisonment began. Hours melded into days and weeks as she rotted in her chambers. Her hair became knotted and her skin dull. Her eyes felt heavy despite her sleeping for hours on end. Yet, even in her dreams she could not escape her grief. She was tormented by memories of Daemon and Aemond. How gentle and welcoming Daemond had been after her father's death. How Aemond kissed her so tenderly as his fingers tangled in her hair.

A sudden burst through the door startled Y/N out of her trance. Several maids scurried in and began undressing her and forcing her into a ton of hot water.

"Lord Borros is expecting a visitor today, my Lady, we must make you presentable." And older woman, Mirren, spoke. The corners of her eyes crinkled as she took in the state of the princess. Her wrinkled hand reached out and wiped Y/N's tears. Mirren had always been kind to her, eventhough she was a prisoner. She was the one that made sure the princess age enough, for the sake of her child.

Y/N let them continue their ministrations; scrubbing her skin raw, soaking her in scented oils, and brushing through her knotted hair.

Afterwards, two maids gently dressed her in a fine gown of black with gold interwoven in the seams. She was every bit a Velaryon-Baratheon beauty.

Four guards ushered her toward Borros's throne, where he sat and scowled at her. Y/N refused to meet his scornful gaze.

Borros squeezed her wrist painfully, "you will drop the act of self-pity in front of our guest, whore." Y/N ignored him until he grabbed her throat, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Think about your bastard, princess." She shook with fear and straightened her back and held her chin high.

The large doors of the Keep swung open with fervor. A cloaked figure entered the hall.

"We welcome you! We heard rumors that you had perished in the God's Eye Lake."

Aemond Targaryen pulled back his hood. An icy fury danced behind his violet eye.

"Only fools should believe such rumors, Lord Borros." He snarled. Borros seemed taken aback by the aggression.

"To what do we owe the pleasure, my Prince? Or is it just Aemond? Your half-sister now sits on the Iron Throne. Perhaps I would receive a reward for bringing her your head?" Borros mused.

Y/N could not believe her eyes. Her Aemond, in the flesh. Though he seemed to have a more dangerous unbridled fury rippling through him. His eye was wide and crazed and his nostrils flared and he took quick breaths.

"I came for my wife. Surrender her to me and you shall live another day, mercifully." Borros let out a laugh at such an absurd request.

"You mean the whore you put a bastard in? I should kill the both of you for attempting to embarass me!" Borros shouted. He stood and grabbed a handful for Y/N's hair and held a blade to her throat.

"You will watch her bleed before I kill you."

Aemond unsheathed his own sword.

"I will burn this fucking Keep to the ground and the Cannibal will devour your daughters' corpses before her body hits the ground." He snarled. Slowly, Aemond began his approach towards Borros and his captive, who struggled against his rough grip. Borros pressed the blade deeper, a thin line of blood pebbling from her skin.

Aemond stopped as he saw Y/N writhe in pain. His heart hammered in his chest. No one but him is supposed to touch her.

"I did not take you for a coward, Lord Borros. Release her and pick up a sword!" Lord Borros did not like having his bravery questioned. He roughly shoved Y/N to the stone floor and approached Aemond.

"It is admirable that you are so willing to die for a whor-"

Borros could not finish his sentence before Aemond let out a shout of fury and charged at him. The abrupt attack caught Borros off guard and he did his best to block each viscious swing.

Aemond had been blinded by primal ferocity and plunged the sword into Borros until chunks of him littered the stony ground. Blood had splattered on Aemond's face and he looked like a man crazed as he growled after each stab of his sword.

Once he was satisfied with the pieces of Borros he ran over to Y/N.

"My love, I'm here. I'm taking you with me." He placed his forehead against hers as he held her held. Y/N grasped his hands and kissed his lips.

"I thought you were dead. Borros told me you perished in the God's Eye!"

"Nothing can keep me from you, ābrazyrys, not even the Stranger." He promised.

Aemond stood with Y/N in his arms, where she belonged. The men he rounded up under Rhaenyra's orders filed into the Keep, forcing the Baratheon guards to surrender.

"I should wed you properly now, wife, my beautiful wife." Aemond pressed a kiss against her lips once more, his hand resting on her belly.

----

Aemond wed his beautiful wife according to the customs of Old Valyria. The ceremony was blessed by their Queen Rhaenyra, after she granted Aemond a pardon for killing his usurper brother and rescuing his Y/N from the clutches of Borros Baratheon.

[gragrace]

"Silent Threads"

Summary: In the midst of the intense investigations of Season 1, FBI profiler Spencer Reid finds himself captivated by a fellow agent. As they navigate a joint case, he observes her from afar, admiring the beauty in both her mind and actions. Though an unspoken connection blossoms, Reid grapples with the courage to bridge the gap between observer and participant, hoping that admiration might evolve into something deeper amidst the complexities of their shared professional world.

Word count: 309

AN: Second fic published, enjoy!🩷 not edited sorry for mistakes🌸

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

In the dimly lit bullpen, surrounded by the low hum of conversations and the occasional ring of a telephone, I couldn't help but notice her. You, the one who had caught my attention from across the room. Your hair fell gracefully around your shoulders, a captivating dance of waves that seemed to mirror the intricate patterns of your mind.

As you hunched over a stack of case files, your nose would scrunch up in concentration, a charming quirk that added to the allure I felt. I found myself admiring the subtle details, the way you approached your work with determination yet maintained a warmth that drew me in. We crossed paths during a joint investigation, our worlds colliding in pursuit of justice.

Our eyes met, if only for a fleeting moment, and a spark of connection ignited within me. But courage eluded me, leaving me to observe from a distance. I marveled at the way you navigated the complexities of the case, your intellect matching your beauty. In those stolen glances, I found solace, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of profiling.

I yearned to share a conversation, to delve into the depths of your mind and discover the intricacies that made you who you were. Yet, fear gripped me, keeping my words tethered to my thoughts. You became the silent muse of my days, a source of inspiration that fueled my dedication to the work we pursued.

Working with the BAU unfolded with its share of challenges and victories, and through it all, you remained a constant presence in my peripheral vision. The unspoken connection grew, an invisible thread weaving through the tapestry of our professional lives. As the cases unfolded, so did my admiration for your strength, resilience, and the unwavering passion you brought to the field.

Though our paths may have diverged within the Bureau, the memories of those shared moments lingered. In the quiet corridors of my mind, I replayed our encounters, each one etching a chapter in the story of an unspoken connection. And as the days progressed, so did the unspoken hope that one day, the courage to bridge the gap between observer and participant would blossom, turning admiration into something more profound.

[theladybarnes]

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ AND THEN I MET YOU

▸ summary:  Steve Harrington’s world is suddenly changed by your mysterious arrival. There’s something about you that he just can’t shake off. And damn it if he’s not going to try and figure out what that is. ▸ word count: 17.6k           ▸ warnings: angst, violence, semi-fluff, slight canon divergence 

STEVE HARRINGTON POV from SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO?

Steve Harrington always thought he had luck on his side. 

It was luck when he met Tommy, introducing him into the crowd of kids that’d eventually be his friends. It was luck when he made the winning shot in his first game, honoring him the MVP on his team. It was even luck again when he managed to make the right joke to make Nancy Wheeler laugh out loud during study hall.

So why did it feel like his luck ran out the moment he met you? 

The first time he meets you, you’re pointing out that he’s at the wrong place. Almost having left the note for the wrong person. And while he’s here to do something for his girlfriend, he can’t help but stare. 

With your clothes obviously high end, purchased someplace far away from the Hawkin’s strip mall. The makeup rimmed around your eyes is perfectly etched on in a way that it makes your eyes shine brighter. Were you actually a student? You looked out of place here in all the right ways.

“Do I have something on my face?” You mused, slapping the door shut. You’re almost mirroring his position and it’s enough to scramble his thoughts for a second.

“You’re new.”

Though your laugh is short, it’s pretty. He wants to hear it again. “I thought we established that?” 

 “Sorry, it’s just, we don’t usually get anyone new. Especially around the middle of the year.” 

“Must make me really special then.”

He can’t help but think you might be right. You give him your name and he finds it rolls off his tongue easily. But you’re ending the conversation quickly. The sound of his homeroom teacher is a big enough spark that he has the courage to follow you and offer to lead you to class. 

If you’re thrown off by his presence you don’t show it. And again, he finds himself letting out his charm. Trying to see how someone like you would react. And it intrigues him again to see how calm and collected you stay. It’s not until you both near the hall towards Ms. Click’s class that he fumbled a bit, earning a bit of a wary look from you. 

Too soon are you both parting ways, leaving him curious to find out more about you. But the excitement of meeting up with Nancy has him turning down the hall with a smile. 

He’s embarrassed the next time you see him, soaked and struggling to leave Nancy’s bedroom window. You’re amused, helping him up. It has his heart beat even faster than the fall from the window did. 

“You really gotta stop sneaking up on me.”

“It’s funny you think I’m the one sneaking up when you’re currently leaving this house out of a window.” you smirked, making Steve wonder how you’re always so cool. The umbrella in your hands moved to cover the both of you, bringing you both a little closer. “I assume you’re leaving more than just a note this time?”

He can’t help but laugh, feeling a little shy at your memory of him.

“It was a little late when I came to see my girlfriend, Nancy. Had to sneak out.”  

“Look at you continuing your streak of generosity.” 

 “What can I say? I’m a pretty great guy.”

You roll your eyes and he really hopes you’re not thinking he’s completely an ass. But you’re still there and still keeping him dry. “So, since you know the area well. Mind telling me where the Wheeler house is? I gotta pick up my cousin.”

He catches on to that last word. Cousin. So you’re here to be with family. He grinned a bit, pointing over to Nancy’s house. “This would be the place. Nancy’s brother and his friends were downstairs from what I could hear.” The two of you move towards the driveway, he can tell the conversation is wrapping up. Too soon in his opinion.

“You think you’ll be fine to make it over to your car?”

“I can tough it out.” he said, dreading the idea of walking up the long driveway. He had to hide his car a bit down the block. But he’s not gonna make you escort him over just to stay dry. He suddenly remembered the plans he worked with Tommy earlier that night. “Are you free tomorrow night?”

The familiar teasing smile spread over your lips. He’s nervous for the quip you’re about to throw out at him. “Steve Harrington, are you really asking me out on a date just moments after fooling around with your girlfriend?”

“What!? No! That’s not what I was asking.” He said quickly, feeling foolish for not explaining further what he meant. But he can’t even do that because you’re laughing at him and he’s trying really hard not to look dumb. “Are you done?”

You hold back a smile, nodding for him to continue. 

“What I was trying to ask was if you wanted to come over to my house tomorrow. My parents are gonna be gone and I’ve decided to have a couple of cool people over.”

“I’ll have to check my plans.” You shrugged. How could you possibly have plans in a day? Who else could you have spoken with already? 

He reached out for your wrist, noting how soft the skin was there. “I promise it’ll be fun.”

“Fine.” you said, swatting at his hand. He found the childish reaction cute. “Better be worth the trip, your highness.” The nickname almost breaks his smile. He’s not sure if he’s too keen on it, but nicknames amongst each other seemed like a step into being friends. He took that as a small win as he dashed away up the driveway.

“See you then, newbie!” 

You’re at his house the next night and he’s disappointed to see that you look bored. Was there better ways to spend the night back where you’re from? He’s trying to keep all of you entertained. Especially Nancy, who while out of place, seemed to try and join in the festivities. But you, you’re aloof, scanning your eyes to everyone there. What he’d give to take a look inside your mind. 

He overhears Tommy throw a question at you. California. You’re a long way from any fun if that’s where you came from. 

 “Maybe I got tired of the place?”

You’re trying to sound nonchalant. But Steve feels there’s more to it than just that. 

“Really? You’d leave the sunny side of California to live here? In Indiana? In the middle of fall?” 

Tommy joined in on Steve’s teasing. Always ready to follow his lead. “Or maybe you were kicked out? You look a little rebellious.”

Their words don’t stump you though. “Actually, you’re pretty close.” You said, chugging the rest of your beer. Like a champ. Steve thought. “I’m really a scoundrel who’s been forced to live with her Aunt until she behaves better.”

He couldn’t help but think that seemed more likely. You were too good looking to be so innocent. If your sharp words were any indication on the type of action you get, he’s guessing you were here for a bigger reason. “That story is more believable.” he said, missing your weary look. 

Distracted by Nancy, he pushed any curiosity out of his mind to enjoy the girl’s company. Her smile had been on his mind so much lately, and the excitement of what tonight could bring was on his mind. 

But the nagging of Barb and the look of boredom on your face is eating at him a bit. 

The gang try shotgunning more beers after him. You declined because of some expensive jacket you had on. But Steve’s happily surprised to see Barb turn around and attempt. That is, until the poor girl is bleeding suddenly. 

He shyly escorts her to the bathroom in his house. Wondering why Nancy would make her friend endure such an awkward night when went back out to notice you and Nancy together. You’re both so entertained by Tommy and Carol in the water that you don’t see him sneak up behind you guys. 

Before either girl can react, he’s pushed you two in, quickly throwing himself in after. When he comes up for air, you’re trying to fight a smile, Nancy’s lost a shoe, and he doesn’t think he’ll stop grinning. It’s a weird bliss for Steve and he doesn’t want that high to end. 

But the party eventually dies down. And he’s mad at Tommy for him and Carol making it so everyone slowly heads inside. You’re able to read the vibes and press to leave early. Making Steve torn about pushing for the group to do something else and letting things go naturally. Nancy is gorgeous and he’d love some time alone. 

Following you out of the pool, he tells the others he’ll get towels as he went in after you. He barely passed you a towel when he noticed you already have that taunting smirk tugged at your lips. 

“You know, this is the second night in a row I see you completely soaked in water.”

He wants to whine about that but he can’t help the chuckle that builds up in his throat. “It’s not fair, I’m either getting soaked with water or embarrassing myself in front of you.”

He wrapped a towel around you. Suddenly feeling something in his chest when he noticed how your eyes looked in the dim lighting of the house. Were the lights making them shine like that? Or was it his imagination?

“Is there something on my face?” 

He panicked for a second, looking slightly downward from your face to your jacket. That’s when he noticed the color change. Shit. Did he just ruin your jacket?

“Your jacket changed colors.” He stupidly pointed out. 

The frown tugged on your face is slightly cute, but it’s also nerve wracking because now he’s made you upset. 

“Well that’s just great.”

 “Sorry, the pool guy must have added too much chlorine.”

You chuck your towel at him, walking away from his side to go back to the group. He felt a pout on his face as he followed after you, only feeling a bit better when he noticed how cute Nancy looked as she stepped in the room. 

“Oh noo!” Carol gasped, “Not the Chanel.”

 “Yeah, I’m planning on Steve’s demise as we speak.”

He can’t help but wonder for a second what that would be like.

But Nancy’s chucking so sweetly and he’s noticed now that she too looks beautiful under the lighting. “Hopefully one that’s not too soon.” she said, smiling at Steve. It has his heart hammering in his chest. He shyly helps wipe some of the water drops off her face.

“On that note, I’m off. You kids have some safe fun.” you called out, not even giving him the chance to say goodbye. Something in his chest ached at the idea of him dragging you here, ruining your jacket, and then making you possibly uncomfortable. 

A warmth engulfed his hand and he finds that it’s Nancy giving him a look he’s seen before. And he’s suddenly feeling a little bit better. 

“...You sure? Because unless Harrington is a three minute kinda guy, they might be busy for a while.”

Nancy and him both cough a bit at the jab. He notices that while your face stayed neutral, there was a bit of sparkle in your eyes at his expense. He shook his head no, trying to keep the mood civil here. 

“I’ll be fine.” Barb replied, looking wary at Nancy. Steve bit his lip, not sure what to say about her friend staying, but wasn’t gonna be the asshole to kick her out either.

 “And with that I’m off. Night kiddos!”

You didn’t spare them a glance back as you marched out his front door. The rest of you called out goodbye and Steve watched as your figure slowly left the crack of the two doors before it closed after you. There was always tomorrow to make up for tonight. He’d figure it out later.

Tonight? He had hopeful plans. And from Nancy’s face, it would seem she was thinking the same.

The next morning is tiresome but Steve finds that he’s still on a high from the previous night. He’s gotten even closer to Nancy, something he’s been keen on for a while. And while things were rocky with you, he thinks he can figure out a way to get on your good side again.

“Last night was wicked. Sorry we didn't’ stick around to clean up.” Tommy said early that morning. The two were meeting over at Steve’s locker and he was a bit annoyed at his friends bailing so fast. 

“Whatever,” he lied, trying to play it cool. “Glad you two had your usual fun.” he smirked, watching as his friends rolled their eyes. Carol pushed a curl behind her ear before leaning in towards the two.

“What about the new girl? Henderson? Do you think she had fun? She totally acted like she was cooler than us.” 

Steve wanted to roll his eyes. She was possibly a thousands times cooler than them. But with the jealous way Carol got, he knew saying that would make you a target. “She’s cool. Probably was nervous or something.”

“Nah, I don’t think she was nervous.” Tommy frowned, leaning against the locker beside Steve’s. “She was odd. Not to mention, she comes from California just to stay here? Maybe she’s a freak.”

“She’s not.” Steve said quickly, feeling the need to defend you suddenly. “I think she was just not sure how to act around me.”

“Or maybe she didn’t know how to act with us.” Carol countered sarcastically. 

“I don’t know. I have a hunch she might like me..”

He can’t help but think back to how you looked last night under the dim lights. Maybe you did like him..but he didn’t want to dive into why he liked that idea. Especially when last night brought him better memories.

The look on his two friends looked a little too interested in that and he felt like he quickly needed to make it less serious.

“Yeah.” Steve added sarcastically, stuffing his books inside the locker. “She’s so hot for me.” The two beside him slowly smirked at his response. “Maybe she’ll do me favors or some lame shit like that.”

“All right, we get it.” Tommy laughed, wrapping an arm around Carol. “Tell us what you really think.”

“You wanna know what I think?” Steve asked, closing up the metal door. “I think I’m gonna go off and see my girl.” With that, he turned on his heels and made his way over to Nancy’s. Finding her already gathering up her books for first period.

She’s a bit jumpy this morning, but he’s glad to see she doesn’t regret what happened last night. But with her nervous greeting, he can’t help but check in with her.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, totally.” she said, forcing a smile. “I just..I feel like everyone’s staring at me.”

He wanted to point out that they might be, but probably not for the reasons she thinks. Their night was special, and he felt the need to help keep that special for Nancy too. 

“Oh, I didn’t..I didn’t tell anyone.”

“I know!” she clarified, giving Steve relief. “I know. Of course not.” Again he’s relieved, until she goes on. “But what about, like, Tommy and Carol and the new girl?”

“You’re being paranoid.” he assured her. And thankfully Nancy relaxed a bit. 

“I’m sorry.”

“No. No, it’s cute.”

“What’s got you worried, Nancy Drew? Could it be the rumors of your sweet escapades with Harrington?”

Your sudden presence has him laughing and he hates how perfectly timed your quip is. Unfortunately, you’re using it on the wrong person at the moment. Nancy looked worried again, turning to look at the kids down the hall.

“Are people really talking about me?” she stuttered.

“She’s only kidding, right?” Steve urged, giving you a hopeful look to end this.

 “Yeah,” you said, looking a bit taken back by the girl’s worried reaction. “I barely just got here. No one but the people at the party figured that out.” You lean in towards her and give her a friendly pat on the arm. “I promise I’ll keep it to myself.”

Slipping back to your locker, Steve felt a small relief again when Nancy turned back to face him. Having a small bit of privacy again with you distracted by your books. 

“Hey, I had a good time..”

 “Yeah. Me too.”

Taking his chance, he met Nancy in the middle, giving her a sweet and gentle kiss. He’s hoping you’re not looking at the sweet moment, but he finds that maybe he wanted to gauge your reaction for it too. 

For some reason.

Nancy eventually parts ways, giving you two a kind goodbye before Steve was able to give his attention to you again. Pushing your locker shut, he leaned in towards you. “You have a knack for being tactful, did you know that?” Steve sighed.  “Now I’m afraid you’re gonna embarrass my girlfriend like you do with me.”

He’s only a little upset by your words, not really for himself but for Nancy’s sake. 

“I barely know either of you enough to purposely embarrass you guys.” You laughed. There’s a struggle with your large trapper keeper and Steve can’t help but take the trouble out of your hands. “If anything, you guys do it yourselves. Especially you.”

“Fine, I’ll give you that I’m a bit of a mess. But Nancy’s different. She’s sweet, considerate and-”

 “And someone I barely hung out with last night.” you cut him off. “I can’t help what comes out of my mouth sometimes. Maybe my jokes will toughen her up.”

He thinks maybe that he might need time to toughen up to your jokes, but doesn’t really mention that. Less power to you. Instead, he pointed in the direction of homeroom. Watching you from the side of his eye as you went on.

“Besides, if you’re upset about my light teasing. I’d remind you of the fact that your two other friends were there long enough to hear all the action that went on.”

 He could feel the creep of the blush on his face. A terrible reminder of what having people over can do. But he knows his friends, and more importantly, he knows how to distract them from doing things like that. “They’re not going to say anything either. I’ll tell them not to.”

 “Oh? So is that what this is? The royal king of Hawkins demanding for my silence?”

Though he smiled at the joke, he can’t help but find your jab about his status to be unsettling. Not quite sure if you mean it maliciously or not. “I’m just getting to know Nancy at the same time as I’m getting to know you. I’d think it’d be kinda cool if we all got along.” he said honestly. 

The two of you stop outside the classroom, needing the minute to wrap up the conversation.

“Steve..I really meant what I said about not saying anything. I just got here and want to make friends.”

It’s so honest and..almost sweet coming from you. And while Steve wanted to dive into that and reassure you that he too wants to be your friend. He has to put his girl first. But the longer he looked down at you, the more he struggled with saying anything against your eyes sparkling underneath the shitty school lighting.

Would they just do that everywhere?

“So you won’t say anything?” he asked finally, handing you back your keeper. 

 “Of course. It’s not like anyone is interested in what the new girl has to say anyway.”

He can hear the familiar sound of his teacher’s heels and doesn’t waste anymore time getting inside the class. Some kids give him the stink eye as he carefully jumped into his seat. A girl with light brown hair and blue eyes turned to openly glare at him before she turned back around. But he’s too worried about what you said to pay any real attention to that. 

How could you think that no one would be interested in what you had to say? Everything about you was so refreshing, cool, and completely more interesting than anything these dorks around the school had to say. Waiting for the right time, he couldn’t help but wait a second after the assignment was on the board before he leaned over to talk with you.

“You’re wrong by the way. About no one being interested in what you have to say.” 

The light from the window cast over your head, creating almost a halo effect around your head. Not to mention with your soft expression, you look beyond this world. He has to fight the smile that wants to spread on his face. Choosing to smirk instead to remain cool and collected.

 “I’m very interested.”

Turning back to face the board, he felt two emotions run through him. Proud for telling you the truth and worry. Because, why the hell did he need to tell you that?

“It’s totally frostbite.” whined Carol, making Steve roll his eyes. It’s been like this for five minutes now. And despite you and Nancy joining the lunch table, he felt like ditching early to avoid whatever mood Carol was in. 

“It’s a heated pool.” reasoned Tommy. Steve could only grow more frustrated at his friend’s gross behavior. Like the group would care at all about her leg.

“Well, it it’s not frostbite, then what is it?”

"Ugh, I don’t care what it is, it’s disgusting!” Steve exclaimed, breaking down finally. “Just get it off the table. We’re eating here.”

“Some of us.” you chimed in, offering your plate. Not one to pass on food, he joined Tommy in picking off the best bits from your plate. He hopes that you and Nancy aren’t too put off by his friends. 

“Hey, Tommy. When you left, did you see Barb?”

“What?”

“Barbara. She’s not here today.”

You poke your head out from the side, acknowledging Nancy for the first time. “She didn’t wait for you?” You sound genuinely concerned and Steve’s glad to see you taking this approach. 

Nancy shakes her head no and waits for an answer from Tommy. But from the careless look on his face, he knows his friend is gonna be an jerk about it.

“I seriously have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“Come on, don’t be an ass, man. Did you see her leave last night or not?” Steve asked, feeling bad for being right.

“No, she was gone when we left.” He answered finally. Steve noticed from the corner of his eyes that Carol had shifted. A look of amusement flickered onto her face.

“Probably couldn’t stand listening to all that moaning.” 

Steve nearly missed the smug expression on your face when he became distracted by the noises from his friends. He should be mad, especially since it wasn’t just him they were making fun of. But the ego boost is hard to ignore.

“Wow, you two must have had a really dull night to rehearse that.” There’s a teasing smirk on your face as you play around with your milk carton in your hand. “Is voyeurism something you two like doing as a couple?”

The two across from him instantly stopped laughing. Looking uncomfortable to have the joke be on them for once. Steve can’t believe you’re so quick with your remarks, making him wonder just how far and low you can go.

“Okay, chill.” Steve warned, noticing the familiar annoyed expression from Tommy.

“You could always call her house after school?” You said to Nancy next, making Steve thankful you’re keeping positive.  

He nodded his head, turning to look over at her. “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably just, like, skipping or something.”

Though the two of you tried to keep things light and hopeful, he could tell by the look on Nancy’s face that there was still a lingering doubt. Still, she returned a smile to him, that is until something caught her eye.

Following her gaze, Steve noticed you beside him, only your attention was towards the lunchroom doorways. Just why on Earth would you be waving at Jonathan Byers?

“We’ve got a problem.”

Steve had his focus on the C minus mark he had just gotten on his English test when Carol came over to speak with him. He crumbled up the paper into a ball, aiming it for the trashcan by his seat. “Give it to me.” he said, tongue sticking out as he tossed the paper into the bin. Perfect shot. 

He turned to his friend only to be surprised that she wasn’t alone. A pale girl with bright red hair was timidly at her side, giving him a small greeting while Carol frowned over at Steve. “Uh hi?” he waved, unsure who this girl was.

“This is Nicole.” Carol said, rolling her eyes. 

“Hi, I’m Stev-

“Steve Harrington.” Nicole finished, flashing him a toothy smile. “I know. We’re in Biology together…and Algebra II..and Stud-”

“He gets it, Nicole.” Carol snapped. The girl looked scared before Carol changed her expression to rest a hand on her arm. “Tell him about your elective.” she added more sweetly.

“Oh right.” she coughed, smiling again. “I take photography with Jonathan Byers.” 

“Okay,” Steve nodded, keeping his face neutral to wait for the point of this conversation to come finally. “That’s, uh, cool?”

“Give her a second.” Carol sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“So I’m coming in this morning to check on a project that I had been working on. And I see Jonathan. Greet him and that’s when I saw it.”

Carol looked suddenly angry, like she was bracing for the worst answer and Steve couldn't help but feel nervous, looking between the two girls. “What did you see?”

“I saw a photo of Nancy Wheeler.”

Steve was surprised he was able to make it to the front of the school without exploding.

After everything had been explained in detail, Carol, Nicole, and later Tommy joined Steve on making his way to Jonathan’s car after the final bell had rung. They were supposed to wait out in the front for you and Nancy for tonight’s game. But now? Now things needed to be handled. 

It was his fault that you were all at his house. He had this stupid party where you guys thought you could relax and have fun, unaware that someone was watching and taking photos. The only thing stopping him from truly exploding was that he hadn’t seen the photos for himself. At least not yet.

The sight of Jonathan finally approaching the parking lot oddly brought out a calm and collected feeling over Steve. He knows what he needs to do. 

“Hey, man.” he said, getting off of the car.

“What’s going on?” Jonathan asked warily.

“Nicole here was, uh, telling us about your work.” 

“We’ve heard great things.” Carol added, Tommy chiming in just behind her. “Yeah, it sounds cool.”

Steve knew they were only going to instigate, make this whole situation a bigger deal. But he couldn’t help but join in on their sardonic approach. Feeling the anger creep into his words. “We’d just love to take a look. You know, as..connoisseurs of art.”

The glare that Jonathan was giving Steve only made his chest twist. How could he be the one who’s angry right now? Even if they were approaching this harshly, he was still wrong.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jonathan said quickly, trying to brush past them to get into his car. But Tommy was faster, quickly reaching onto his bag before Jonathan could even turn around to see. 

“Oh, no?”

“Hey. Please give me my bag.” Jonathan asked, reaching out to Tommy. But his friend passed the bag to him, giving Steve the final piece on the judgment he’s been waiting to place on Byers for a while.

“Man, he’s like totally trembling,” he pointed out. “He must really have something to hide.”

Turning around, he placed the bag on the trunk of the car, rummaging through until he felt the smooth surface of the photographs. “Ahh, here we go.” Steve said, fanning the photos. One look down and he’s already feeling his stomach turn.

“Oh, man.”

“Let me see.” Tommy asked, already eager to see. Steve splits the stack, handing some to his friend as he continues to look on. “Dude!”

“I was looking for my brother..” Tried Jonathan.

“NO. No, this is called stalking.” Steve said, unsure why he’d even lie.

A particular one catches Steve’s eye. It’s the two of you deep inside the house. Almost blurry from how distant it was, but there was something about your face..he couldn’t shake it off. He stuffed it into his pocket. Picking through the rest until he noticed the Nancy ones..that’s when he knew what he had to do.

“What’s going on?” 

It’s odd timing for you and Nancy to finally show up. But when you guys get close, he can see right away the worried and perplexed faces etched on both your faces. 

“Here’s the starring ladies.” Tommy scoffed.

“What?” You and Nancy asked at once. 

“This creep was spying on us last night.” Carol explained as she passed the photos to the two of you. He notices right away the crestfallen look on your face, looking between Jonathan and the photos. He thinks back to the cafeteria where you waved at him. Were you both friends? Were you maybe why he was there in the first place? But judging from the ones he took of Nancy, he was sure it wasn’t for just that.

“He was probably gonna save this one for later.”

“Shit, Jonathan.” you said in frustration as you flung the paper to the ground. A disapproving look on your face as you joined in on their disgusted emotions. Nancy remained silent, looking down at her photos in shock. It was then that Steve knew he had to make his move for you guys. For all of you.

With a click to his tongue, Steve stepped forward towards Jonathan, looking down at him. “See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but man, that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hardwired into them. You know, they just can’t help themselves.” His hands wrapped around the worn out shirt that Jonathan had worn well out of its best days.

Steve’s surprised when he sees you step forward. “Look, I think he gets it, Steve.”

This is your first week, he thinks. And despite your usual cool nature, he figured this isn’t something you’d want to be a part of. Unfortunately, because of the party, you are. So he pointed a finger at you, asking for silence before he went on tearing the photographs quickly. 

Tommy, who doesn’t take anything so serious, began to laugh behind him. The familiar wheezing laugh as he enjoyed watching Steve’s approach. “So,” Steve concluded. “We’ll have to take away his toy.”

Nancy is next to call out for him, making something in the pit of his stomach turn. But he went on with it anyway, needing to do something to make sure this wouldn’t happen again. Behind him Jonathan pleaded for his camera.

“Steve, let’s just leave. I think the public humiliation was enough, don’t you think?” you said, voice sounding just as desperate as the boy’s did. Again, Jonathan tried to reach out for the camera when Tommy stepped in. Ready for action. But Steve quickly called him back. Feeling different inside of him. Something..mean.

“It’s okay.” he smiled, holding the camera out for Jonathan. “Here you go, man.”

The boy’s brown eyes shifted between Steve and Tommy before he took a step over to grab the camera. But Steve was faster, and let the item fall quickly from his grip. All around the group gasped. Tommy’s taunting laugh being the only commentary from everyone else. 

Oddly, Steve did not feel the satisfaction that he had been hoping would come from that.

“Come on, let’s go. The game’s about to start.”

He turned on his heel, making a beeline over to you when he noticed the hard frown on your face. He didn’t know what exactly could make you look so cold and mad, but he didn’t take the chance to leave you there. Gripping at your shoulders as he pushed you down the hill to the school. 

“You didn’t have to do things like that, Steve.”

His hands gripped tighter around your shoulders. Confused by how you were upset with him in all this. When you two reached the bottom of the hill, he finally let you go, letting him see your glare once again.

“How would you have done it?” He asked, trying to control his temper. “Because I feel like you’re missing the fact that he took photographs of us!”

You rubbed your hands over your face and Steve can clearly see there’s an inner conflict going on. “You didn’t have to break his camera.” 

“The creep is lucky that’s all I did to him.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the photograph of the two of you, slapping it down on your hands for you to see. He needed you to understand the severity of all this. 

But the look on your face is almost disappointing. He’s not sure if it's him or the photo itself. But you’re turning to look back at Byers and he noticed just now that Nancy hasn’t joined them down the hill.

“I’m only looking out for you two. We’re friends now.”

Leaving it at that, he called out for Nancy. Ready to leave this parking lot and move on to better things than discuss these damn photos.

Like the party, he’s sensing the discomfort from the group. Well, from you and Nancy that is. Tommy and Carol are happily leaning over each other, talking about their day as if everything were normal. 

Steve wanted to pretend too. Even joining in on the conversation. But he can see the look on Nancy’s face as she gets more uncomfortable. It’s only five minutes before the game when Nancy suddenly pulled away from the locker she had been leaning on. 

Steve felt stunned, watching as she had begun to leave without a word to anyone else.

“Whoa, Nance, where you going?”

She thankfully stopped, turning a bit to face the group. “I totally forgot.” she stammered, unbelievably making an excuse on the spot. “I told my mom I would, um..I would do something with her.”

“Well, what do you mean?” Steve asked, getting up from the floor. “The game’s about to start.”

“I’m sorry!” she called, not sparing a glance as she quickly made her exit. Steve felt his heart sink a bit. Not sure if he should go after her or not. Just when he thinks he couldn’t feel any worse, you’re slowly edging your way past him.

“Not you too.” he frowned. Watching your usual collected expression only shifts a little to show a bit of discomfort again.

“Well, her little brother is friends with my cousin so I actually gotta head to her house and pick him up.” The smile that tugged on your lips seemed forced and Steve fought to try and fight against your excuse. “I’ll make sure she’s okay.” you said lowly to him before waving him off.

“What the hell is wrong with them?” Steve called out. Confused by how two girls he was getting close with could suddenly just freeze him out.

“Maybe they were freaked out when you went all psycho on the psycho.” Tommy suggested, a small smirk on his lips. 

“Oh give me a break.” he groaned back.

“What’d you expect, dating Miss Perfect? Not to mention this being one hell of a welcome wagon to the new girl.”

Steve stayed still looking down the hall again, hopeful that one of you might turn around. But the lingering thought couldn’t escape his head now. What was gonna happen next?

The next day doesn’t start off the way he had hoped it would. 

It was early in the morning when he came downstairs. A rare occasion of finding his parents both at the breakfast table. He mumbled a quick hello, reaching over for a banana in the fruit bowl while overhearing his parents talk about recent news. Apparently they discovered the body of Will Byers and there would be a funeral service for him soon. His Mother wasn’t taking it well, going as far as to deny that the body was his.

He can’t help but think about Jonathan Byers. He left the house that morning without eating.

Later on at school, Nancy had pulled him aside for a private conversation. She ended up going back to his house the night before while he was at the game. Desperate to try and see if Barb was still around. Which sounded insane, but not as insane as the man in the faceless mask. 

Eventually the conversation turned for the worst when he realized the police were going to be involved. Which meant everyone was going to be dragged in this. This party was supposed to just be a fun night! Now that the Hawkins Police department was going to investigate, his dad would surely murder him. 

Nancy didn’t seem to understand that. And while Steve knew that she was more worried about her friend, he couldn’t help but panic about his own situation first. Not when his asshole of Dad would take away everything from him. Not to mention he doesn’t even know what would happen if the cops find out about the beers. It wasn’t just his ass on the line. 

But Nancy’s focus is solely on Barb and a part of him understands. But god damn if he wasn’t a bit freaked out.

It’s hours later at lunch and he’s feeling a twist of emotions. He needed to apologize to Nancy, but also get a word in on what the hell these guys were gonna ask him. But since his girlfriend decided to disappear, he figured the next best person to ask would be you.

So he snatched you away from the lunch lines and dragged you behind the gym. No one would be there for another twenty minutes and he could get some information out of you. But ten minutes have passed now and Steve felt like he had to drag every answer out of you.

“And what did you say after that?”

“Steve, do we really have to do this?”

“They’re going to ask me questions next and I wanna know what I’m heading into.” You glanced back at him, expression hard and sort of sad if he were being honest.

“Trust me, they’re not going to grill into you.”

He can feel his temper rising up. An unusual feeling he had for you as of lately. “You can’t be serious. They know we drank! They’re going to give me the third degree and my ass is grass the moment the old man finds out.” Again you look off distantly and Steve can’t help as he pressed on again. “Carol said you looked pissed off by the time you came back into class. So obviously there’s something you’re not telling me.”

That only seemed to upset you, making you roll your eyes at him. “Are you having your friends report on me? Carol isn’t even in my class.”

Steve narrowed his eyes, trying not to admit that he did sort of have Carol keep an eye on things but also not want to tell you that.“Okay, so it was Nicole who reported to Carol who came and told me. But only because she’s freaked out too!”

You turned away from him and he immediately moved to stand in front of you, feeling a little pathetic at how desperate he had become right now. “What did you say? Please?”

The glare is hard on your face and he realized he might have pushed you a bit too far. “Look, it’s safe to say they’re aware of some of us drinking. I don’t know what Nancy told them but they know.” Picking up your bag, you pointed over at him. “If you blab to them about just who was drinking, be sure to leave me out of it!”

There was something in your voice. Something scared that had Steve pausing his panic to focus on you. Reaching out, he spun you to face him again. “Are you okay?”

“Okay? I’m peachy fucking keen.”

The sharpness of your voice has him letting go of you. Holding his hands out defensively. “Whoa, chill out there spitfire. I’m just checking if you’re alright.” He watched as different emotions flickered across your face before you sighed.

“I didn’t mean to get mad. It’s just hard dealing with people like the cops when you have them know your history.”

“Know your history?” he asked, curious to hear what could make you so worried.

And that’s when you told him everything. 

From your ex, the party, the accident. Steve couldn’t fully wrap his mind around the fact that a girl like you could have had so much trouble in just one year. A part of him felt slightly ashamed for momentarily judging you. Because the more you went on, the more he could hear the regret and sadness. 

Something that tugged heavy on his heart and when he heard how hard it was with Hawkin’s PD questioning you, he couldn’t help but move forward. Wrapping his arms around you in a hug. It’s awkward, and he hates that you might not have really wanted one, but he hopes that it gives away some sort of comfort to know that he does feel bad. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, remembering he was supposed to reply to you. “I didn’t know that any of this would happen.”

Your quietness makes him think he might’ve taken it too far. But when he slowly pulled away, he noticed that your eyes were back to that familiar spark. 

So they’d just always sparkle like that, huh.

“Why is it that when I’m around you a mess seems to follow?” 

“I wish I could say I knew.” he chuckled wondering how you managed to change the mood so easily to bring it back to normal. It was troubling. Almost fitting for a ‘scoundrel’ like you. “You’re trouble, that’s for sure.”

“Come on, that’s not fair. You literally just found out my story.”

“Sorry, if you get to tease me for embarrassing myself, I get to call you trouble.”

You’re teasingly punching him, making him have to bite down on his lip to stop himself from grinning at the simple affection. He nudged you back, having to find some sort of way to return the touch. But you’re soon after stopping him, slightly worried again.

“Promise me something.”

“What?”

“Please don’t tell anyone else my story? It’s..it’s not my finest moment. I just want to move past it.”

Oh God, she’s pouting. How the hell is she so cute while pouting?

He had to pinch the side of his thigh to keep his thoughts at bay. Remembering he’s supposed to be contributing to this conversation instead of gawking at you. Crossing an X over his chest, he nodded to your request. “Promise. As long as you don’t tell anyone just how freaked out I was about being questioned next.”

He held his pinky out, feeling a warmth spread inside his chest at your reaction to the childish gesture. 

“Can’t believe I’m saying this but I actually feel a little bit better after talking to you.”

He’s surprised, not really hearing that from people often. He hopes he’s able to do it again if he has to. 

“What did I tell you, trouble? I’m a pretty great guy.”

The two of you part ways after lunch and he thinks about how much he enjoyed the warmth he felt after hanging out with you. It reminded him of how he felt with Nancy. If he was able to fix things with you, maybe tomorrow he could figure out to fix things with Nancy and get everyone back on the same page again.

There was a funeral service for Will Byers, and he was a little bit shocked to find out the two of you were attending. Putting a slight detour on his plans. For a second, he remembered Jonathan Byers. The guy who not a day ago was stalking him and his friends. 

Despite the ick Steve felt from everything, he couldn’t help but feel bad. No one should have to endure a loss like this. Even creeps..

It’s around late noon that he made his way to Nancy’s house. Hopeful that she had returned home early from the funeral. 

He’s happy to see Nancy again, but there’s something off. Something that’s different about her and it’s not just her recent attempt to join the softball team. He’s smart enough to know when someone’s avoiding him, but was sure that Nancy really did accept his apology. So why did he have this sick feeling in his stomach?

There’s a chance that everyone could have hung out today and he’s annoyed that Tommy and Carol decided to have a date night, making plans with them to push farther into the night. He hoped that you’d be the only friend of his to come through. 

To his dismay, the phone call with you is just as much of a failure as his visit with Nancy. Not only did he leave with no plans, but you thought he only called as a last resort. Which wasn't the case, but he can see why you’d think that.

Today was beginning to feel shittier than ever. And he wasn’t sure if it’d turn around any time soon.

“I just don’t understand why we’re coming out here.” Carol said with the smack of her gum in her teeth. “She obviously doesn’t wanna talk to you.”

“That’s..that’s not it.” Steve defended, knowing Nancy wouldn’t even have kissed him if she wasn’t forgiving him.

“Oh, really? Because no girl would ever blow off King Steve.”

“She was acting weird. I mean, something was wrong.” Her whole demeanor was nervous now that he thought about it. He tried to play it off as her being on edge from coming from a funeral and Barb still missing. But something in his gut told him otherwise.

“So what? Like, you’re worried about her?”

“What?”

“Aw, you are.” cooed Carol. “Aw, Steve has a heart.”

“Would you just–STOP.”

Tommy finally chimed in with his own amusement. “Stevey’s in love!”

“Would you just shut up?” Steve said, growing irritated. “SHUT UP!”

The two awkwardly grew quiet from his outburst and it dawned on Steve that he’s never really acted this seriously about a girl before. But Nancy was special. She was worth the teasing from his friends because she was a nice girl. Whom Steve really needed to fix things with. So, he parked his car in front of the Wheeler house, and made his way down the hill to the familiar window side. 

He would just say that he was there to check up on her, offer a ride to get a milkshake or something, and maybe figure out how to prove that everything was–

Oh.

Through Nancy’s window, Steve caught sight of something he didn’t think he’d ever see. Nancy and Jonathan, sitting together on her bed.

He sat beside her, placing a sweater over her shoulders as he gently caressed her back. The sight nearly caused Steve to yell out. Ask what the hell they were even doing together alone in her room. But he couldn’t. All he could even hear right now was the heavy sound of his heart beat.

Not saying a word, he slowly pulled away from her window. Climbing quietly down from the roof top before he dashed over to his car. 

Carol and Tommy were whispering close together when Steve climbed into his seat.

“What’s the verdict?” Tommy asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “We waiting for your girl to join us or what?”

The three of them were all sitting outside the liquor store. Steve, not even having touched his can of beer that Tommy managed to swipe for him, watched as the other two paced in front of his car.

“Can’t let her get away with this.” Tommy chuckled, angry for his friend. “That shit isn’t cool.”

“Seriously, you’ve put up with her dorky shit for how long and she does this?” 

He wanted to tell him they were wrong. He didn’t put up with anything from Nancy, he wanted to do the things she did because he was interested too. But every word about her kept dying at the end of his tongue. 

“You know what man? Screw that slut, we should just hang out anyway.” His friend returned to his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Let’s go get you Henderson. She’s a perfect spare chick to keep around and we all know she digs you.”

“Yeah, at least she’s more interesting than Wheeler.” Carol added. “At least with a fashion sense.”

“Stop.” Steve gritted. Not wanting either one of the girls to be spoken about like this. “It’s not like that with her.” He glanced over at Tommy with a glare before shaking his head. “Besides, she was busy tonight too.”

“What the hell can she even be up to? Who does she know?” Tommy frowned, unsure of anything about you.

“She’s got family here. Maybe she’s off with them.” Steve countered. “But really, she was sort of annoyed that I called her last minute. She could just be just avoiding me too.” His self loathing was getting the best of him, and he really wished he’d just shut up.

“You know it’s weird, I heard she doesn’t even have a car. She rides a bike to school.” Carol mused, picking at the ends of her nails. “All those expensive clothes and she can’t afford a car?”

“Maybe she steals expensive clothing.” Tommy smirked, looking over to his girlfriend. “It would explain why she’s forced to live here. Nothing good to grab at our stores.”

“Ooh a thief would make sense! Maybe that’s why she was trying to steal Stevey boy over here.” Carol laughed, pushing at Steve lightly. The two continued to spew out ludacris theories on why you were here, making the focus turn worse. Having enough, Steve bolt up from the hood of his car, chucking the beer can across the empty lot.

“She’s here because she got in trouble for drunk driving, you idiots.” he sighed, looking out and away from the two. What they were forming together was a lot worse than the truth and Steve was tired of it.

“Drunk driving? That’s it?” Tommy asked with a small chuckle. “What an absolute moron. Can’t even handle her liquor.” Carol joined in on laughing with him, making Steve’s anger rise enough to turn around on them.

“It wasn’t that! She was having a bad night. Okay? We all have shitty nights and sometimes it leads to us forgetting where we are and how we crashed our cars. I’ve been close to doing that and so have you, Tommy!” 

“Geez.” Tommy gaped, looking annoyed with Steve's sudden outburst. “Crashed a car too? God she’s a mess.”

“Yeah, well, everyone has their worst moments. It happens to be one of hers so maybe hold off on accusing her of other stupid shit.” He pushed Tommy a bit to get off his car, going over to the driver’s side to unlock it so the other two would follow the same. “Can we please stop talking about her? I honestly have so much shit going on in my head right now. I don’t need that either.”

“Worse than Wheeler?”

Steve ignored Tommy’s question to turn on the car, looking down at his steering wheel before he glanced at his friends. “No, Nancy is worse right now. No one gets to trick me like that.” he frowned, feeling something vile come up in his chest. 

“So what do you think we should do about it?” Carol asked, peeking her head over. But Steve didn’t have an answer for her. He was so upset that all he could think about was taking off and driving far away from Hawkins. Away from all the bullshit and pain he felt right now.

“Right now, I just want to get out of here.” he sighed. Missing the way his two friends shared a sinister look.

Steve really believed he had to be the world’s biggest idiot today. 

He had received a call from Tommy early that morning to meet him over at the Hawk. Something not quite out of the ordinary, but from the chuckling his friend had done on the other line, he should have known it was nothing good. 

A while later he approached the small group with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He had to work on figuring out what to do about Nancy. But the closer he approached the group, the more he noticed they seemed to figure what to do for him.

“Shit.” he whispered. Looking up at the vandalized marquee. The bright red words seemed to be taunting him. 

Nancy the Slut Wheeler.

“Like it?” Tommy chuckled, as he climbed down the ladder he had been on. He wrapped an arm around Steve and extended his hand out towards the sign. “Now they all know.” The two girls quickly pushed the ladder away, leaning it against the building before they joined the two boys again. 

Steve is honestly stunned at the sight. Not sure what could possess Tommy to go this far but also not quite sure if he felt it was right. All he knew was that even as the group led him away, he felt like a shell of a man.

Why the hell didn’t I stop him?

“You look sick.” Carol chuckled, giving Steve a slight shove. “It’s not like she didn’t deserve this.”

“Yeah, man.” Tommy said, throwing an arm over his girlfriend. “Think of it as you giving the town a public service announcement.” That caused Carol to burst into laughter, slapping Tommy playfully against the chest.

In the back, the timid Nicole joined in on their laughter. As if she had any other choice.

“Whatever.” Steve muttered. “What’s done is done.”

Tommy stepped up to one of the blocked off doors of the building next door, shaking his spray can a couple of times before he started to write out his next message. He barely finished his sentence when shit really hit the fan. 

Nancy found him shortly after the work had been done, and he’s shocked to find you trailing after down the alley. But all he can focus on is the hurt look on Nancy’s face. No, not hurt. Heart broken.

But Steve doesn’t stand down. Not when he didn’t do anything wrong. All he did was say a couple of wrong things and he still got cheated on. How could someone nice like Nancy Wheeler do that? 

The words between them feel useless. He’s already made up his mind. Nancy didn’t deserve to have sympathy. Not when she was this big a liar.

“Look, I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t like that.” 

“What, you just let him into your room to..study?”

Her stuttering response has his heart aching even more. How could he have fallen for her? How could he have felt sorry even for a second when she was just..using him.

“Go to hell, Nancy.” He’s about to turn around and leave the girl when you step forward. . 

“Are you seriously going to just say that and not even listen to her side of the story?”

“Not sure it’s a story worth listening to, trouble.” he scoffed, feeling even more disappointment. How could you side with her? You were smarter than that, you’d have to have realized. Unless.. “Why the hell are you with them? Were you in on that shit too?”

Seeing your reaction was almost as bad as Nancy’s. Because instead of the hurt he was expecting; there was anger.

Jonathan stepped in now, grabbing hold of you and Nancy in an attempt to get you guys away. “Come on, guys, let’s just leave.” The smart thing to do. But apparently Steve wasn’t going to play the smart guy today.

“You know what, Byers? I’m actually kind of impressed. I always took you for a queer, but I guess you’re just a little screw-up like your father.” 

The words felt like venom on his tongue. A type of taste in his mouth that he rarely felt. But seeing Jonathan be the reasonable one amongst everyone made him mad. Even jealous. It wasn’t fair. This whole thing wasn’t fair. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, that house is full of screw-ups. You know, I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised. A bunch of screw ups in your family.”

The boy in front of him stopped and Steve can’t stop himself from egging him on. Giving his shoulder a push with every word he threw at him. Before him, he could see you trying to tug at Jonathan’s arm, giving him a knowing look.

“I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you, but the Byers, their family, it’s a disgrace to the entire–”

That’s when shit in the fan. Again.

Never in Steve’s three years of school would he think that Jonathan Byers knew how to fight. But fuck if this kid knew how to hit hard. Of course, it made sense. He didn’t tell him off to get a slap like he did with Nancy. No, he wanted this fight to count.

So while Jonathan gave him his all, Steve would do that same.

But to his dismay, his all isn’t enough. Just like his relationship. Whatever he was giving wasn’t enough to win. He was on the floor, holding his arms up to help cover up some of the blows that Jonathan was pounding down on him. Various voices calling out for the fight to stop. From how he felt inside, he hoped Jonathan wouldn’t.

“Come on, dude. The cops!”

At one point, the two boys are pulled apart and Steve is able to pick himself back up from the floor. Tommy began to pull him away when he looked back to the chaos they were about to leave behind.

“Henderson!” called out Officer Callahan. “I knew you’d be in this mess.”

Nodding to Tommy, he went over to you, picking up at your arm while Tommy got the other and helped you up from the ground. While he knew you’d probably get pissed about leaving the other two behind, he couldn’t help but selfishly take you.

He had some questions of his own.

“What the hell was all that?!” 

You didn’t even hesitate to break apart from him the moment you guys made it to his car. Steve felt his anger swell up. Either that or it was his actual face swelling up from the beating he just took. 

“What the hell was all that? What the hell is with you? Why were you with Byers in the first place?!” He stepped forward, glaring down at you. “I thought you knew to stay away from him.”

“Excuse me for making my own decisions, your highness. I’m not exactly gonna stop talking to someone just because you said so!”

There was that damn nickname again. Now he knew it was used for nothing but disdain towards him. It was ridiculous. How could you be so biased towards the others when he met you first? 

“Oh cut the crap. Why are you bothering covering up for Nancy? I saw them with my own damn eyes. Stop covering for the girl you barely know!”

“It seems like I’m not the only one who barely knows her considering you didn’t even give her a chance to explain herself.”

“I didn’t exactly stop her from speaking. She did that on her own.”

He watched as your eyes scanned over towards his friends. “Not everyone wants to air out their stories for your voyeuristic friends, Harrington.” The three of them gasped at your reaction. Carol instantly pulled Tommy closer.

“My friends are just getting the truth out there. She’s a slut and a liar. And you’re a bitch for siding with her.”

Now, he knew wasn’t thinking entirely smart today. But he really regretted letting that slip out.

His back hit hard against the car door, making him wonder if you were strong enough to break the glass. But his blind stupid anger kept him feeling anything else at the moment. He could handle another beating at this point.

“You take that back! I have done nothing but be a god damn friend. In case you don’t remember, you even begged me to befriend her too. Now that I’m doing that I’m suddenly a bitch because it’s not what you want?”

“What I want is some god damn honesty around here!”

And boy was honesty what he got. Every word you said felt like some sick truth and he wanted to speak up and fight that not everything about him is like that. But Tommy decided to make it his turn at being the dumb one and opened up his mouth next.

“If he’s such a dick, why do you have such a big crush on him?”

“..What the hell did you say?”

God, he’s so completely fucked. The anger on your face is this beautiful rage that is unfortunately directed at him. He can’t even function properly as he threw out any excuse he could. 

He didn’t think you were pathetic. He thought you were cool. Not only that but you actually treated him like a normal friend. Something he didn’t even get with people that have known him for years. How can he properly explain that when he’s with his asshole friends he makes asshole jokes? 

Things just take a turn for the worse and he can’t help but panic as Tommy had that familiar glint in his eyes. He stepped towards you, giving Steve a quick wink before he spoke up again. 

“..He actually thought you were a lot worse. Especially after you told him about getting so drunk you didn’t even remember crashing into another car.” He watched in shock as Tommy moved to wrap an arm around your shoulder. “We didn’t take you for a forgetful drunk. Didn’t we, Stevie?”

“Promise me something.”

“What?”

“Please don’t tell anyone else my story? It’s..it’s not my finest moment. I just want to move past it.”

No no no. This was bad. This was so completely beyond bad. How could he have forgotten that slip up? His mind had been all over the place and he never..he never meant for that to get thrown back at you.

“Tommy, just back off, okay? I didn’t say it like that.” Steve said, trying to reach out for you. He needed to get you out of here. Away from the people that were only going to try and hurt you until you felt like complete and utter shit.

Just apologize. He thought.

“Then tell me, Steve. Just how did you say it?”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s not like it’s important anyway.”

It really doesn’t. He’d never think bad of you. Not about that. But his pathetic inner turmoil caused him to miss out on the look on your face. Because the next thing he knows, you’re back to being calm again. 

“You know what, you’re right Steve.” 

The group sobered up quickly at that, not thinking that would have been your reaction. “Right about what?” he asked. But from the cool and collected tone in your voice, Steve knew whatever answer he’d get right now was going to be something they were all unprepared for. 

He’d have thought he was living in a movie with how quick and calculated all your words were. Never had he seen his two friends look so taken back with someone’s insults. By the glare on Tommy’s face, he knew that he was beyond mad. But for once, they’re actually speechless.

“..and lastly, your royal highness.”

You approached him slowly. Like a lioness getting ready for her prey. Only this time, he’s the one in your line of attack.

“It’s actually hilarious to think that you would assume I liked you. You, a small town hick with barely a career in basketball. Who gets drunk on a Tuesday night because his absent parents leave him alone in the house. I mean really, is that someone you think I’d like?”

He can’t find it in himself to call your words cruel. They hurt like hell, but they were all true. But still, as much as Steve liked to think he wasn’t that much of a smart guy. The one thing he could always tell was when a girl liked him. And with you, he felt it there. Right from the start.

“You like me..I know you do.” He forced the words out, feeling how tense his whole body got.

“Perhaps that’s what you wished for, but unfortunately, I’m no longer interested in dating pathetic high school boys. I left that preference in California.” Your finger grazed at his jaw and he felt himself gulp at the fire your fingers left behind on his skin.“See, the next time I date a guy, he’s gonna have to be really special. And with you, I can’t get that. You’ll graduate high school, work for your dad, and be known only as the boy who used to be relevant.”

You stepped back finally and Steve could feel himself be able to breathe again. But too quickly are your parting words coming out and he felt his chest ache again. 

“Hate to break it to you, Harrington. But the only thing big about you, is your hideous head of hair.”

And with that you walked off leaving the entire group jaw slacked at your vicious verbal attack that he thinks he might not ever get over.

The group is left sort of in shambles by the time they finally leave the area. Nicole was even stunned enough that she left to go home early. Steve couldn’t help but wish he’d do the same. Especially after Tommy and Carol got back to talking. 

The only break he got from their spew of insults towards you was when he stopped over at the Fair Mart. Asking Tommy to get him something for his head without having to go inside and freak everyone out. 

“Here,” said his friend a few moments later. “You owe me a dollar-twenty.” 

Steve doesn’t even reply, he just cracked open the pain relief and shot back a couple of pills. Hopeful for the effects to kick in as soon as they could. Now that he was done fighting and getting yelled at, he was starting to feel the way his face looked.

“Don’t worry, he’ll need more than aspirin when we’re done with him.” Tommy reassured him. 

“Yeah,” Carol scoffed. “If the creep ever gets out. The cops should just lock him up forever.” 

Steve brought the cool can of coke up to his eye, feeling the cold can take off some of the ache that was swelling up. Meanwhile Carol continued to mimic Jonathan beside him. Not even caring if Steve bothered to show interest or not.

“He probably had that same look whenever he killed his brother, right?” Tommy laughed. Something vile twisted in Steve’s stomach. And this time, he was sure it was vomit wanting to come up. Since when had his friends even thought this way? Sure, they could be jerks but this? This was just…cruel..

“Oh, God, I just got an image of him making that face while he and Nancy are screwing.”

Okay, that’s enough.

“Carol, for once in your life, shut your damn mouth!”

His two friends instantly stopped laughing, not at all ready for Steve’s outburst.

“..What?”

“Hey, what’s your problem, man?”

He finally turned to look at them, truly ashamed and disgusted that he’s included these people for so long in his life. He couldn’t do this anymore. Impressing them and pretending to be cool about everything was not worth it if he was left feeling this shitty.

“You’re both assholes.” he exclaimed. “That’s my problem.”

“Are you serious right now, man?” Tommy asked, not even aware if his own friend was being honest or not. But Steve had to stick this through. 

“Yeah, I’m serious.” he answered finally, giving his friend a shove as he made his way over to his car door. “You shouldn't have done that.”

“Done what?”

“You know what!”

“You mean call her out for what she really is?” Tommy asked, squaring up to Steve. “That’s funny, because I don’t remember you asking me to stop.”

“I should’ve put that spray paint right down your throat.” Steve said low, anger building up inside. 

“What the hell, Steve?” Carol frowned.

“You know, neither of you ever cared about her. You never even liked her, because she’s not miserable like you two. She actually cares about other people.”

“The slut with a heart of gold!” Carol retorted, obviously fed up with Steve’s insults. But he can’t help but feel more upset with Carol’s useless words. 

“I told you to watch your mouth!” he yelled, pointing a finger at the girl. Tommy was faster than that and quickly moved in to push Steve against the car. 

“Hey! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, man, but you don’t talk to her that way.”

“Get out of my face.” Steve warned with a shove back. But again, Tommy is fast to grip onto Steve’s jacket, getting close to Steve’s face. 

“Or what?” he grunted. “You gonna fight me now, too? Huh? Because you couldn’t take Jonathan Byers..so I wouldn’t recommend that.” 

In a way, Steve knew he was right. Today wouldn’t be the day he had a win and he knew when to back down. But that didn’t mean he was done talking just yet. “She was right, you know.” he sniffed, fixing his jacket once Tommy let go.

“Who was right?” Tommy said with a glare.

“Henderson. She was right. You guys are just pathetic assholes with nothing remotely intelligent to say.”

“Like we give a shit what that drunkie thinks.” Tommy frowned. 

“Come Monday the school’s gonna know all about her bender anyway.” Carol chimed in after him. 

Steve couldn’t even imagine how you’d react if that got to spreading around. For once, he didn’t mind playing the asshole one more time.

“Yeah? ‘Cause if that happens, I’ll be sure to let loose a couple of details about the two of you. Right? Stuff you guys wouldn’t want to get out.” 

“You don’t have anything, Steve.” Tommy said, crossing his arms. 

“No? So you’d be okay with the school finding out your Mom had to beg Coach Troy to let you on the team?” He turned to Carol and tapped his bloody nose lightly. “Or about your little freshman year glow up, Carol?” 

The girl paled a bit and Steve shook his head one last time at the sight of them before he turned to get in his car. Tommy made it a point to help shove Steve inside. “Here, let me get the door for you, buddy.” he hissed, slamming it shut. 

He started up his car, trying his best to ignore the last words his now ex best friend began to spew at him. But no matter how loud his car was or how fast he left. He still managed to hear one last few haunting words.

“Run away, Stevie boy! Run away! Just like you always do!”

Without even realizing it, Steve had found himself parking near the front of the Hawke again. One of the employees there had taken it on himself to begin trying to scrub off the words from the marquee. The younger one below held onto the ladder tightly. 

Steve took a few steps forward before their conversation perked in his ears. “Do you think that girl is really gonna sue us?” asked the younger man.

“God, I hope not. Her friend seemed hellbent on it though.”

Somehow he felt like he knew just who they were talking about. But his presence cut off their words and the older man stared down at Steve finally.

“Need a hand?”

“Did you have something to do with this?” asked the employee.

Yes. And I need to fix it now.

“I just..I wanna help.”

The man gave Steve a weary look before he slowly climbed down from the ladder. Making the boy thankful that there wasn’t any further questioning. He shed off his jacket and grabbed onto the rag before he climbed his way up.

The younger employee stared at Steve questioningly from below. But Steve ignored their gazes as he rolled up his sleeves and went to work on making things right.

After a good hour of scrubbing. The remnants of his mistake had finally been wiped off the marquee. And though Steve was sure his wrist was cramped, the weight that came off his chest from having the sign cleaned was worth it. 

He’s back in his car about to drive over and see if Nancy had made it back home from everything when he thought things over. There was no use in trying to fix anything up with her or even you for that matter until he got this green eyed monster off his back. 

The next thing he’d do is fix things with Jonathan Byers.

For some reason, he held importance to the both of you. Maybe it was something he hadn’t seen. Something he didn’t hear. But after everything that’s happened between all of you. The two of you were defending him.

If there was something there, he’d just have to find what it was on his own. 

So he drove down the unfamiliar road. Glancing now and then at the houses that were shabby and shadowed by large trees. They were aged homes. Ones that have possibly been in the town a lot longer than his own. But there was one heavy difference between the houses on his street and the ones here. 

These homes had families.

The warm glow of lights dimmed through each window. Reminding Steve that there was such a normal thing as a happy family. Ones that spent time together, and loved each other. Like Jonathan’s. No, they weren’t a usual family. But even with just the three of them, they were closer than anything Steve could ever have.

Pulling up to the Byers’ home, Steve thought hard about what he could even say to Jonathan. Sorry would be a good start. But how exactly could he even get to saying that? He’d have to figure it out now because he was done feeling this shitty. He just wanted to make things right again.

He raised up a fist against the wood door. Ready to face the music.

What he wasn’t ready for was coming across you, Nancy, and the giant faceless monster. 

He’d have been more shocked at the state of the home if not for the sight of the three of you geared up and ready to fight an otherworldly creature. Nancy had tried to get him to leave, a sign that she still cared about him. But you? He couldn’t quite place if you were worried for him or annoyed by his presence. 

Even after being forced down the hall into one of the bedrooms, he felt like he was only being a burden to the three of you. But you’re standing in front of him, almost protecting him. How the hell were you going to do that with a knife?

When nothing happened after entering the room, the three ahead ventured out in the hall. Leaving Steve with his mind falling apart as he scrambled after you. The group is acting like what they witnessed was normal and he can’t help but feel his reserve breaking.

Nancy is holding onto a gun, ready to shoot the thing. You’re wandering around with the knife ready for the next attack and Jonathan is behind adjusting his grip on the bat. Why the hell isn’t anyone calling for help?

“This is crazy. This is crazy. THIS IS CRAZY! THIS IS CRAZY!”

Bolting for the phone, Steve attempted to make a call to the police when Nancy rushed over behind him. Getting the phone out of his hands just in time to throw it to the ground. 

“What are you do- What are you doing? Are you insane?!”

“It’s going to come back!” she warned, glaring at the boy. “So you need to leave. RIGHT. NOW.”

Leave? How the hell can he be the only one to leave? Did you guys want to die? 

His eyes found their way to Jonathan in the living room. Eyes sad but watchful of his surroundings. He wasn’t going to leave this home. He turned around, finding his gaze to fall on you next. 

Even with the hard look on your face he could tell there was a hint of fear. You were too smart to put yourself in such a dangerous situation. You had to think differently. “Come on.” he whispered, silently pleading for you to change their minds. But you didn’t hesitate to shake your head no. Moving over to stand beside Nancy now.

“Leave now, Steve.”

Hearing that felt almost as hard as the words he heard earlier today. But he agreed. Moving out of the room and out the front door in a flash. His fear took over any instinct he might have as he ran out towards his car. 

He barely managed to get the door to his car open when he saw it. The warm lights in the house. Only this time, they were blinking. Going in and out in a berserk like way. The same way they did when the faceless monster had emerged into the home. 

There were so many things running through his mind. How the three of you were barely scrambling together to fight this thing. He’d be leaving Nancy, you, hell, even Jonathan. Running away to get himself to safety like always.

The blinking lights began to pulsate even faster until suddenly it stopped. That’s when he began to hear the two of you screaming out for your friend.

“Run away, Stevie boy! Run away! Just like you always do!”

Running to the front door of the house, Steve tore the door off the wall as he burst his way in. Jonathan was on the floor, screaming out for Nancy while she held up the gun to the creature. It wasn’t backing down. 

Well this time neither was he.

He grabbed the discarded bat from the floor and took a swing at the faceless creature. It’s strength was definitely strong, but it sure wasn’t smart on its defense. Each swing managed to cause the creature pain. Making Steve glad that he was on the baseball team for a hot minute. 

While his hits were strong, it had fast reflexes. Moving its arms quickly to try and make a swat at Steve. But he was just fast, dodging every attempt.

“To the hall!” you informed him, giving him an idea of where he needed to go. 

With a final swing he’s able to send it back into the bare trap in the hall. Making it screech out in pain. 

“He’s in the trap!” 

“He’s stuck!” 

“Jonathan, now!”

The rest of you joined him at the hall, watching as Jonathan threw over the lighter. Instantly the room is light in the bright orange flames. Almost engulfing you in its spark. Jonathan is quick to pull you behind him and Steve can’t help as he watched the boy almost protectively cover you.

You stole a glance over at him before quickly going to retrieve the fire extinguisher. Putting out the flames thankfully before it grew into more rooms of the house. All of you coughed while the air began to clear out of the smoke.

Jonathan went forward first, needing to see if the creature was dead or not.

“Where did it go?” Nancy asked as they followed closely with their weapons. 

“It has to be dead. It has to be.”

But there’s nothing in the trap but sizzling bits of flesh that managed to stick to the metal. The lights in the hall began to shift and you’re all a bit freaked out when you noticed the Christmas lights that adorned the ceilings began to lit up again.

The group followed down the path of lights until they reached over towards the front door. Something must have sparked inside of Jonathan because the next thing Steve heard was the boy calling out to his Mom. 

Continuing forward, the four of you moved out into the front porch. Watching as the lights flickered onward towards the street.

“Where’s it going?” Nancy asked.

“I don’t think that’s the monster.”

Despite having a few hours of waiting. Nothing really progressed within the group. The time was spent cleaning up around the place until some sort of local authorities showed up to gather everyone up. 

There’s a bit of back and forth between all of you but one thing was made clear enough that they knew where to go next. 

To see Will Byers. 

“I can’t believe you guys were dealing with this all by yourselves.” Steve said softly. He was following behind the car with the agent that would check them into the hospital. You had offered up to drive Jonathan in his car while Nancy moved into his. 

“It hasn’t been easy.” Nancy replied. 

“Wanna tell me about it?” He asked, glancing at her. “I think I’m ready to hear about it all now..” 

Her gaze had stayed on the road the whole time. It was noticeable that she wasn’t quite comfortable around him yet. But he was thankful for the explanation regardless.

It was sort of shocking to listen to her tell everything from the start. The night Barb went missing, the hunt you three did in the forest, Nancy’s first encounter with the monster, down to today. How could the three of you just take it upon yourselves to fight this thing? Going back had been scary but he’s glad he did. He didn’t think how he’d feel if anything had happened. 

“You came back.” Nancy added a second after her story. 

“I did.” 

“I’m thankful for it..but why?” 

He gripped on the steering wheel, unsure how to even fully explain himself. “Because I’m an idiot who is tired of always running away?” He turned to enter inside the parking lot of the hospital. “Because I couldn’t handle the idea of you, Henderson or even Byers getting hurt if I left you guys with no help?”

The car had barely come to a stop when he felt Nancy reach out to grab at his arm. Her big eyes looked over at him with a concern that had his heart racing. It’s been like days since he’s seen this kind of side of her. 

“I just really wanted to make things right..”

“You did.” Nancy reassured him. “You did..”

He couldn’t help himself as he pulled her into a hug. Feeling a little relief to know she felt like he did right. The girl is thankfully quick to embrace him back before murmuring for him to join her inside to wait and find out if Will was finally okay. 

There’s others there amongst the group of people that are waiting for the same thing. And it takes only a few seconds after he’s checked out by a nurse to realize that you’re one of the last few that are late in coming in. Nancy wondered the same thing until Jonathan burst through the doors and joined his Mother down the hall. The two began to question about your whereabouts when you joined in a minute later. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before you’re whisked away to be checked out. 

After that it was even more waiting. But Steve couldn’t help but watch you from afar. 

The look on your face grew even more tired and somewhat distant from the group. Was he allowed to ask if you were okay? Did you want to be there? Even when you came back after seeing the kid, who Steve didn’t even ask to meet. It didn’t feel right. But Jonathan still thanked him for coming before gathering his brother’s friends. It’s not until Nancy approached you with a cup of water that he slowly got up from his seat. Hearing the last bit of your guys’ conversation. 

“..I was actually going to talk to you about that. My mom called yours and spoke with the Sinclairs. Given what’s happened, we figure these guys aren’t gonna wanna leave Will any time soon. So when visiting hours are over, we’re gonna have them spend the night so they can see them in the morning.”

“Right, I guess if Aunt Claudia is okay with it. I should probably call her over to come pick me up.”

“Actually, I can give you a ride home.”

The two girls stopped when they heard the sound of Steve’s voice. He didn’t know why he was so keen to offer. But he figured it was the right thing to do. “I think I’m taking up too much space here. Should probably call it a night.”

Nancy shot him a small but warm smile at that. “You should ride with Steve. He's in the same direction as you so the drive shouldn’t be too bad.”

The look on your face is unfortunately noticeable with discomfort. Making Steve worried he might have done something bad again. But you still got up from your seat, much to Steve’s chagrin. 

“Whatever, let's go.” you mumbled, while you pulled your jacket on. 

The two of you are quick to say goodbyes. Barely the two that were needed there anyway. It’s silent for the most part after that. You two got in his car and headed towards the direction home. But like with Nancy, he wanted to see if there was any chance of mending, even if just a little bit, with you. 

“So what happened tonight was real, right? I’m not still dreaming?” he asked hesitantly.

You don’t glance at him but he can see from the side of his eye that you’re shrugging. “Do you usually dream about fighting faceless monsters with people you used to be friends with?”

“..No.”

“Then, this is real.”

The cold is harsh in your tone. And really, he should have figured someone like you wouldn’t warm up so quickly. He pressed his lips together. Trying to control his dumb mouth from making himself a fool again when you spoke up. 

What you did tonight..” you started, making him steal a glance.  “It was stupid..So incredibly idiotic and stupid.”

Here we go. He was ready for you to tear him a new one again. “I know, you’re right.” he sighed.

You waited for the car to stop before you reached out to touch his arm. It was eerily like how Nancy did. Making him stare a little bit in shock since this was coming from you of all people. “But very brave. And I’m thankful you decided to help us.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You thought he was brave? Him? 

“Lights green.” you murmured a second later. 

“Right.”

The conversation died down at that. Leaving Steve’s rambling mind to try and think of a way to approach what happened to you in a way that you’d want to talk it out. Unfortunately, he’s fast at getting you home, leaving him seconds to ask you about it without the help of a mental filter.

“Do you think we could talk about today?”

“No.''

Damn it. 

You’re leaving his car so fast that he nearly forgot to turn it off as he went after you. 

“Please, I’m so sorry. I know what I said..what I did. It was unforgivable. But it’s not me. I’m not that guy-”

“Oh? You usually don’t go around pretending to be friends with girls because you like the attention? You don’t think I’m pathetic?” The harsh tone had him wincing back. “I’d hate to think about how you feel about people who actually like you.”

“No! And that wasn’t what I wanted with you. I swear!” He’d never use you like that. Nor anyone really. It was a stupid stupid joke and he wished he hadn’t said it at all. “Since you’ve moved here, you’ve been the only person who I feel wanted me as a friend because you actually wanted to be friends. And you’re definitely not pathetic, you’re the coolest person I know.”

“So you didn’t tell them that you thought I liked you enough that I would do things for you? What kind of bullshit was that, Harrington?”

“Look, that’s not what I said. I told them I had a hunch you liked me and in a way you’d do anything for me. It was a dumb joke said to make them laugh. And I’m wrong for that, I’m sorry! I never would want you to do anything for me, especially if you like me.”

“Stop making this about me liking you! Today I was thrown back with my own secret! The same secret I trusted you with!”

There’s a sparkle in your eyes right now and he’s disappointed to see it’s not the familiar look of stars he was getting used to. It was tears. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell them–”

“You don’t mean to do a lot, Steve. Just spill the one secret that I didn’t want the school’s worst two gossips to know about.” 

He hung his head. Not sure how he was going to be able to come back from this. But all he could do was apologize again and again. Promising to make things right. But no matter what he said, you were done with him. Moving to go inside your house. He barely managed to make it over before you could close the door. 

“You need to leave, Steve.”

“Things with us can’t end like this. I-..I like you too much just to lose you.”

“You’ll get over it.”

The answer truly stumped Steve. Because he knows the logical thing would be to let you go and count his losses. But there was always just something about you that made things different. And as cliche as it might sound to anyone else, you were different. 

“What exactly do you want with me, Steve? I’m not your girlfriend, I’m not your best friend. We were nothing to each other just a week ago.”

He thinks back about last week. There were no monsters, no fights, no ex friends, but importantly there was no you. Despite everything else he might have wanted to go back to, he didn’t know if he’d change anything. 

He just couldn’t explain why. 

“I don’t know what I want..but all I know is that even if I didn’t know you, I’d still miss you in my life.”

“You have Nancy to feel all that with.” you reminded him.

“I know.”

His impulses took over and he reached over to wrap his arms around your waist. Pulling you in as close as he could. Without any real thought behind the consequences that would come from that. Reaching out, he cupped the side of your face and leaned in close. Brushing his lips on yours while he waited a second to see if you’d push him away. 

You don’t. So he finally gave in. 

Kissing you was just as different as he expected. Your lips taste like the remnants of the lip gloss that’s always perfectly applied on your lips. Your body is soft and warm against his, like the perfect cover. All around him the world goes quiet and he can only feel you. 

Just you. 

The tips of your nails dug into the edge of his hair and he can’t help but moan softly at the sensation it gave him. He pulled back a beat just to feel you suck lightly at his bottom lip, making him gasp. He didn’t even know he liked until now. 

The kiss deepened after that and you pressed harder against him the more you were got excited. His hands wandered over the expanse of your body. Needing to feel everything on you. One of his hands barely crossed over the curve of your ass when he felt you pull back. 

A thousand thoughts run in his mind as he caught his breath. Was this a sign that maybe he should reconsider his feelings? Would things be different now between you? He liked Nancy, he knew this. But he never felt that way after a kiss either.

“Wow,” he breathed, falling forward to rest his face on your neck. The sweet scent of your perfume still lingered there. “That was..”

“A mistake.”

He thinks he might have misheard you at first. You couldn’t have not felt what he did. But from the way your hands were slowly pulling away from him, he could tell that you were trying to distance yourself. 

“You can’t tell me you haven’t been wanting to do that..” He said softly, needing your honesty once again.

Pulling back from your neck, he finally looked at your gaze. Trying to see if there was any trace of a lie on your face. But all he sees is the way your face is beautifully flushed from the heat of the kiss. From your eyes down to your swollen lips. 

“Tell me you felt it too..” 

It was pathetic how desperate he felt for it to be real for you too. Despite the complications that it would bring. He couldn’t shake the carnal desire to have you. Knowing that it had to be the basis of something between the two of you.

“Steve,” you smiled sweetly. The cold tone in your voice nearly sending a shiver up in his spine. It was the same tone he had heard earlier that day. “I still hate you, and I don’t want to be your friend. And most importantly I felt nothing.”

With that, you disappeared from his side. Entering your home without so much as a glance back at him and what could have been.

ONE MONTH LATER 

It wouldn’t be until winter break that he’d finally get to talk to you again. The aftermath of dealing with the monster and being sworn into secrecy really put a damper on everyone’s plans. The last surprise had been when Steve received a call from Nancy the following day. Things between them in the hospital felt iffy and after his rejection from you, he wasn’t sure what he wanted. 

But Nancy’s sincere interest in working on things was enough to mend the ache in his heart. And for the first time in days he felt himself actually smiling again. 

Though the group could probably use a break from things like school, the four of you still showed up to school that Monday.

You and Jonathan had arrived earlier that morning. Doing the most to get back into a normal school schedule. Even if that ended with you both avoiding the couple. Thankfully. Tommy and Carol weren’t brave enough to call out Steve on his bluff. Not a single word was spread about you. 

But that didn’t quite help the way he had hope it would. 

Because the moment your gaze found Nancy with Steve, you turned back into the cold and distant behavior. It made him sick. Not only because it wasn’t what he wanted. But because of him, you passed on the same treatment to Nancy.

“I just don’t get it.” Nancy said one day at lunch. The two of them had a table far off in the back of the cafeteria. Not quite back into the groove of their former cliques. They had just watched as you grabbed a bit of lunch. Smiling earnestly as you linked up your arm with Jonathan. Despite having made new friends with some of the other popular girls. You still made time to hang out with Jonathan on a few occasions. 

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, playing dumb.

“Things at the hospital seemed so good..like we were all going to start a new chapter. But now?” She picked at her lunch before dropping down her fork. “Now it’s like I’m being iced out and I don’t even know why..”

Steve’s stomach turned, he hated seeing Nancy so upset. The worst part being that he couldn’t even explain just why you hated him so much. Not without spilling the dark past that you wanted hidden. He messed that up once, he wouldn’t do it again.

“It’s me.” he sighed. “It’s because she’s still mad at me and since we’re together, she doesn’t want anything to do with us.”

Nancy frowned at the explanation. “But you apologized. You came back! It doesn’t make sense for her to still hate you. Not even Jonathan hates you.”

He shrugged his shoulders, glancing over his shoulder briefly to catch the two of you finally left the cafeteria. “People are going to react with how they think is right.” he frowned. Not really believing his own words. “Maybe she needs time to see that things are different.”

The girl sighed loudly. Sounding as defeated as he felt. “Time.” she said slowly. “Let’s hope it’s just that..”

The weeks passed after that day and he found that only a few things would change between the four of you. Jonathan, while still a bit of a loner, seemed to be okay extending his niceties to Steve on the occasion. Making Steve grateful for that bit of normalcy. 

Nancy had grown even closer to him. Making him genuinely feel like for once he was on the right track of things. He felt like maybe things could finally start to go back to how they first were when he fell for her. 

You, on the other hand, avoided the couple like the plague. Making it hard to progress on fixing that bond. Every attempt was thwarted by your cold dismissals. There was even one day when he offered you a ride home and you pretended to ignore his call to you.

When it was Christmas break, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of an idea of what he could do to maybe get the ball rolling. 

“Do you think they’ll like them?” 

The presents laid on the dinning room table of the Wheeler house. He felt a bit like an ass coming in with presents for no one actually within the household. But after telling Nancy the plan and noticing her eyes light up, he felt a little bit reassured it was a good idea. 

He glanced down at the plain white box holding your present. The jacket was actually the hardest thing to find. But he was happy to know that some places in this town still had some newer fashion trends in their stores. 

“I hope so.” Nancy mused, looking at the small box containing the camera for Jonathan. “If not, at least we know it was a nice gesture.”

The waiting game was the harder part. Whatever weird game that Mike and his friends played in the basement went on for an exaggerated amount of hours. But your cousin was there, and that was all the hope Steve needed to ensure he’d see you tonight. 

“..Won’t you both come inside, the boys sound like they’re just about done.” 

“Oh that’s okay, I’ll–”

“We’d love to come inside.”

Steve’s ears perked up to the sound of the new voices. Making him feel slightly panicked before he nodded over to Nancy. This had to work. But if he couldn’t get you to forgive him tonight, then maybe he’d at least work on getting you to talk to his girlfriend again.

He barely walked down the hall to the front door when he saw you. 

The red winter dress you were wearing practically made you look like an angel despite its dark colors.

“Hey, trouble..”

The stiffness that came over your body caused him to worry a bit. You almost looked like you were in pain and all he had done was greet you. 

“Harrington.” you nodded, keeping your attention to the photos that hung on the wall. It was the first time in weeks you’d actually addressed him. Making him feel slightly pathetic for enjoying the half assed greeting.

“You look nice tonight.” he commented softly, not able to contain himself. A small sparkle flashed over your eyes as you looked over your outfit. He always liked how you admired your style. 

“Thanks. You look..uh.”

He felt his face heat up. The Christmas sweater had been from Nancy. Mostly as a joke. But since he rarely got things like this, he cherished it anyway. “Yeah, it was a gift.” he explained. The tension is still thick in the air. He had to squash it before it got even worse. “I’m glad I ran into you tonight.”

Quickly dashing into the dinning where the gifts were, he grabbed onto the white box. Nearly dropping it due to his sudden sweaty hands. He managed to appear more collected when he returned to where you were.

“What’s this?” 

“It’s a gift, genius.”

You rolled your eyes to that, pushing the present back towards him. “I can see that, your highness. I’m asking why are you giving me this?”

“Because it’s Christmas and you give presents to people during this time.”

He really wanted to add that it’s to people you care about. But that wouldn’t do him good.

“Give it to Nancy. I’m sure she’ll enjoy it.” you muttered. Steve could have sworn he saw your walls actually come back up. Protecting yourself from any real feeling that might come to you. “I’m gonna wait outside for the guys.”

“Please don’t shut me out..I just want to fix things.” He glanced down at your hands, not even noticing that he reached out for you. Down the hall he could hear as Nancy called out for him, probably curious what was happening. He let go when he remembered his real motive. “At least for Nance’s sake. She doesn’t even know why you’re shutting her out.”

The look of disbelief washed over your face. 

“Do me a favor, Steve. Talk to me about fixing things, when you take back telling your friends about my personal life.”

The words felt like a nail in the coffin and Steve almost wanted to go back in time to punch himself out from the huge mistakes he had made. 

“..you know I can’t take it back.”

“Then I guess everyone will have to endure disappointment.”

And just like that you’re gone again. The sounds of voices coming up from down the hall being the thing that snapped him out of his daze. Your cousin and his friend were talking closely to each other, giggling at whatever joke they had just been talking about when they noticed Steve.

“Uh, hi.” he said lamely. The one with curly hair who he thinks might be named Rusty (Dusty?) waved awkwardly at him. 

“Hi, Steve.” he said, surprising him. He didn’t know the kid had any idea of who he was.

“So, I know it’s weird to ask..but do you guys think you could give this to your cousin for me? She stepped out and I didn’t get the chance to give it to her.” The lie felt all too easy, but he wasn’t going to exactly admit to these kids you rejected him once again.

The curly haired one stared skeptically at the box. Making him realize that while you two might not be related, you two acted oddly the same. It was his friend that actually reached out for it, giving Steve a quick wave before he assured him he’d give it to you. 

They call out a goodbye to Mike and Will before they turned to finally leave. Steve moved over to the window by the front door, watching as they trekked up the driveway over to the car that you were sitting in.

The view wasn’t the best, but he’s able to see your face just a bit as the two enter inside the car. There’s a bit of a back and forth and he’s almost disappointed to see you don’t get the box. The car started up and he nervously watched as you almost took off from his line of vision when you stopped. 

The jacket is pulled up from your lap. And just when he thought for a second you might throw it out of your car. But that’s when he sees it. The one thing he’s been dying to see from you.

A smile. 

Steve Harrington had lost his luck a long time ago. But for the first time in a while, he thinks he has a chance getting it back again.

A/N: SO this was a lot to write. 

Writing near 20k words was a lot. And while some scenes are sort of repeated, I ofc got super carried away and really wanted to build a version of Steve that hopefully made sense with canon but also fit my story. I know to a point he’s a bit ooc in certain choices or maybe even emotions. But this is a Steve/Reader fic and I felt it deserved to have some depth behind it. Even if it’s at the expense of canon continuity. If you guys enjoyed this please let me know! I’d love to know if you guys would like this for the other seasons. 

[buckybarnesss]

What Sterek 'canon rewrite' fics would you recommend?

i often don't go for outright rewrites. i tend to stick more to au's or fix it's. canon divergence is my jam lol so here's a few i like.

burn with hellfire in the blue of midnight by babisays

Stiles met the Hale siblings when he was eleven years old. Now it has been six years since he lost his best friend Cora in the fire, and Derek and Laura left Beacon Hills. Six years was a long time, so he didn't think he would ever see them again, but now he was wondering what the hell was Derek Hale doing back in Beacon Hills.

rearrange by imnotahero

Derek crouches down in front of him. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly. Stiles huffs pathetically to camouflage how thrown he is by all of this, but finally obliges. “I’m not gonna disappear into the night without a trace. We’ll keep in touch, okay?” “Sure,” says Stiles sarcastically. “When have you ever returned a text? Called unless your pants were on fire? Excuse me for being skeptical.” __________ Season 5B and beyond told through Stiles' and Derek's off-screen interactions, inner musings and personal discoveries. A little bit angsty with a dash of fluff and a pinch of plot. Slow burn, so wear sunscreen.

way down we go by wolfspurr

Set during 3B and its aftermath. The blacklight party at the loft leaves Stiles with more than one revelation playing on his mind. He's losing time, and apparently he might be more than just a little bit interested in Derek Hale. By the time he's fought off the Nogitsune and somehow lived to tell the tale, the rest of Stiles' sanity might just rest on Derek, the Camaro, and a few hundred miles of Pacific Coast Highway. It's going to be one hell of a road trip.

in the afterimage by clotpolesonly

Jackson sat heavily on the riser beside Scott, knocking their shoulders together. “This is weird and I hate it.” "What's weird and why?" “This whole situation,” Jackson said. “With the Ghostriders and the missing dude you’re so obsessed with.” “And why do you hate that?” “Because now I can’t stop thinking about it!” Jackson bit out, and he really did sound supremely irritated by that. “I keep thinking that if even Danny’s forgetting shit because of this guy, then I must be forgetting shit too, and that is so not cool. So now I’m running over everything that’s ever happened in my entire freaking life looking for moments when the Ghostriders could’ve fucked with my head.” Scott had to admit that Jackson had a point. He’d been doing the same thing ever since that first memory with obvious pieces missing. Honestly, it was hard for him to find a memory that did feel whole. Even sitting on the bench alone didn’t feel right.

[haddonfieldwhore]

moth to a flame - vessel

vessel (sleep token) x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, inhuman?vessel, probably not lore-accurate

word count: 781

your body still felt heavy as you slowly awoke, the light of day creeping through a crack in the curtain, illuminating a small portion of the otherwise still dark room. you rolled over and began to get out of the bed, when vessels painted arms wrapped around you, pulling you back against his chest. you hummed as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck, and you swore he was almost purring.

“do not leave me yet.”

“i won’t. but i do have to get up at some point; we need groceries,” you laughed. vessel smiled, though you could not see it. he thought to himself, that was no reason to leave, though he seldom needed to eat anyways. your mere presence in coalition with the strength sleep gave him was enough to keep him alive. vessel began to pepper soft kisses across the skin of your neck as down your shoulder, holding you so tightly you almost found it hard to breathe.

“what’s gotten into you?” you mused. vessel usually wasn’t this clingy, he was usually a little hard to read, almost as if there was more to him than you knew. but in this moment he was holding on to you like you were a lifeline, and to him, you were.

“i wonder each day where you came from, because you cannot be of this earth.” oh the irony in his words, but he felt it to be true. “every ounce of my being belongs to you,” he promised, rolling over to cage you beneath his form.

“vessel-“ you stared up at him with teary eyes, your heart so full, never having felt so loved in your life. you didn’t know you could feel anything like this until you found vessel.

“do not cry, my love,” he placed a kiss to your forehead as your hands reached up to cradle either side of his neck, in awe of the man before you. “do not waste tears on me. if you cried for every moment i loved you it would never cease.”

“what did i do to deserve you?” you asked, and he smiled.

“it is the other way. it is i who ponders if i am enough for you. i would light myself ablaze to keep you warm without a moments hesitation. you are the only thing i need on this earth.”

“i love you,” was all you could manage to say, but vessel didn’t seem to mind as he kissed your lips.

“say that you will always be mine,” vessel pleaded softly. sitting up, he slid one of the rings off his finger, and placed it in your hand.

“vessel, are you-“

“promise me. i have not a life without you, and in all my past lives i know that i have loved only you.”

“i promise,” you nodded, leaning up to kiss him. his hands reach out and pulled you into his lap, before taking the ring from his hand and sliding it onto your ring finger. somehow it fit perfectly although his hands were larger than yours, almost like magic. “i don’t know what to say. i love you so much, vessel.” you threw your arms around his neck in a tight hug, and he held you impossible close.

“you need not say anything. you have given me everything i could ever need and more, just by gracing me with your presence.”

“i would give you more if i could.” you admitted, overwhelmed with emotion as tears began to trail down your cheeks.

“what more could i want, than you? should hell take me if i die, i have already lived a lifetime in heaven with you.”

“if you die?” you asked. there was something special about vessel, almost otherworldly like he perhaps was more than human. you could feel it in the way he spoke to you, the way he touched you.

“yes,” he replied. “i fear i cannot die while my love for you still courses through my veins. it is too strong to allow it. as well, you are wise enough to know that i am….different.” he had never spoken of his divergence before, but you were not surprised.

“vessel, whatever beyond you came from, they must be miserable that i have you now. because i don’t plan on giving you back,” you kissed him deeply. “not in this lifetime.”

“perhaps in another?” he teased, and you shook your head with a smile.

“not in any lifetime. i think you’re stuck with me.” vessel wiped the tears from your face, leaving light streaks of black paint across your skin as it rubbed off his fingertips.

“i would not wish for anything else.”

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

[thefanficsideblog]

Moonlight And The Break Of Dawn - Astarion (Part 1/5)

Content Warnings: Mentions And Reference To Abuse, Trauma and Consent Issues. Canon Compliant Trauma, Violence and Threat. Canon Divergent Powers. No Use Of Y/N, Tav Supplemented. Gendered Pronouns Used (she/her). Not Beta/Proof Read.

This was written for a friend and myself but I thought I might aswell share it here.

Behind every exquisite thing that existed there was something tragic – Oscar Wilde

No grave can hold my body down, – I’ll crawl home to her – Hozier

Your presence will be sun in winter – Alfred Lord Tennyson

The road is long and the path is winding, you had never really given it any thought before but the days under your feet that put distance between you and the crash, are both exhaustingly long to comprehend and not far enough. Though you wonder if any distance could be far enough. Your head is throbbing, an irritating repeating painful pulse that surges through your mind between steps. You wish you could blame the pain on the tadpole swimming around in your cerebellum but you know the much more likely truth- you're dehydrated. And more than that, you're lacking a decent amount of blood in your system to compensate for that. You let your eyes shift to your left where Astarion walks a few strides ahead of you, he is walking with such energy and a strange type of confidence, even for him. You wonder if he knows what you do, you wonder if he has the slightest clue that he hasn't fooled you, not for a moment, not even the smallest amount. He thinks he has everything laid out, this perfect little plan, he thinks he is playing you like a fiddle. But you're smarter than that, smarter... but not wiser. You can read his manipulation like a favourite book, because in some ways that's exactly what it is. You've done this before. You recognize this. In it's twisted way, it feels like coming home. He is using you, and you're letting him.

You want to feel guilty about it, you want to be mad at yourself for not falling for his facade but actively walking directly into this trap of his. But you cannot bring yourself to be. Because for all the planning and scheming. For everything he is trying to achieve with you, you know one more thing, one thing that maybe he doesn't even know yet. You know why.

His hands flex in the sunlight and you know he is pretending it's not stunning him, but it has been a lifetime since he got to be in sunlight, you don't blame him for basking in it. It’s almost enough to keep him from complaining about the bugs as you navigate the wetlands.

Astarion swats away a bug with his hand and mutters a few curses under his breath. “I cannot wait to be free of these bug infested woods,” he says, as if it was everyone else’s responsibility to make that happen.

“Used to fancier environments are you fancy boy?” Karlach asks.

“Most certainly, it’s not hard to have higher standards than somewhere where these little cretins bite you for taking a step,” Astarion points out. “I know the better places in Baldur’s Gate, no nasty little buzzing critters guaranteed.”

“Blood suckers,” Shadowheart muses at the mosquitos. “You think you would have more sympathy for them Astarion.”

The look he shoots her way is a smile, but it’s so full of malice that it is much more of a grimace, “Oh so you can make jokes?” he asks. “Not forbidden to laugh under your false god?”

“Let’s not,” Karlach laughs, clapping her hands together, “let’s not start anything that I will have to finish.”

“I say let them have it out, fighting will only make us stronger,” Lae’zel offers up, swiping at a vine that leans too close to her body for her comfort.

“Let’s keep the fighting for the enemy, if we start fighting amongst ourselves, then we are truly fucked,” you point out, walking faster to put yourself as a social shield between Astarion and Shadowheart, who look equally likely to attempt to draw blood.

“Sunshine to the rescue,” Astarion teases. If you weren’t too busy trying to decipher if he is genuinely irritated with your interference, you might pay more attention to the way he calls you that: Sunshine. You might be able to see the layers within it, read all the implications in such a simple word. Sunshine: something he has been denied for years, something he never thought he would get to have again, something he didn’t know he missed until it wasn’t able to access it. Something he is scared of losing again. But you notice none of that, not while you’re trying to read past the gentle slumping of his body against a nearby tree, the way he cocks his head to the side, watching you. The tiny curve in the corner of his mouth that might be all that slips through in an attempt not to smile. He leans back like a bored rake eyeing up his next conquest, something that on anyone else would be unflattering, but on him it’s ungodly elegant, and you have to look away.

“Hello,” comes a voice from the rocks. The whole party glances up to see a man moving in a hurried manor down to greet you. His hair is long and his movements determined, but he still meets your gaze with an attempt of a smile.

“Hello?” you echo back at him.

Astarion eyes the man with reproach which you admit it’s new for him, everyone is either someone worth charming or someone he would rather not be bothered by, this man certainly seems to be the latter. “Must we stop and speak with every wayward walker?” he huffs.

“I won’t take up too much of your time,” the man assures you, eyes flitting to Astarion, “I’m Gandrel-,”

“Oh, you are Gur,” Astarion says, stopping his slacking, and standing up really straight, arms crossed neatly cover the cotton of his black shirt. “Monster hunter, come to cast some type of curse?”

You elbow Astarion and he looks genuinely confused as he complains at the almost violent interaction. Gandrel laughs it off, looking not half as inconvenienced as you would have expected. “And every other thing people think my kind can do, honestly I wish I could do half of it,” he says, “but alas, we are mere mortals.”

“Brave words for men who hunt monsters,” Shadowheart says, looking almost apprehensive at the man in front of them. “So what are you hunting?”

“Let me guess,” Astarion says, moving his hands around as he speaks, all theatre and brimming with a strange type of enthusiasm. You’d almost think he was nervous, but you haven’t seen him nervous before, why would he start now? “Wendigo? Or better yet some winged horror?”

“Nothing that exciting I am afraid,” Gandrel states, his smile is welcoming, “some vampire spawn.”

If Astarion could get any paler, he would in his moment, his muscles stiff and his words threatening to falter, you sense his panic without as much as a glance. “A vampire spawn?” you ask, hints of laughter in your voice. “Not even a full vampire, how is that worth your time?”

Astarion glares at you, but he knows what you’re doing so he holds in a pout before adding. “I don’t know, spawn can be quite a handful, powerful things,” he says.

“Your friend is unfortunately right, and this spawn… he is particularly dangerous,” you don’t take your eyes off Gandrel, afraid if you look at Astarion you might see him smirking, “I was wondering if maybe you’ve seen anything.”

“What do you know about this spawn?” you ask, scorning yourself mentally for not coming off more subtle.

“His name is Astarion,” he starts, and you don’t hear much more after that, he begins to explain why he is hunting him, and what he has done, but the words just blend into the wind, and you are doing everything you can to try and act calm. You hear the words dangerous and volatile and in some deep met instinct you step back and in front of Astarion, leaning into him, you look afraid. You look like the man’s stories are bringing you concern, like you’re seeking comfort. But you’ve learned enough from wolves to know how to play this game. Astarion doesn’t know how to respond to your sudden proximity and just stands idle, listening to the man talk.

“Well I…” you look for the right words, the right approach to take.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Gandrel assures you. You feel sick to your stomach, this man is trying to be kind, his concern is genuine, and you know as well as the others that Astarion is not a saint, he is no pinnacle of good, he has done things. He has done unthinkable things. But he was surviving, and you cannot think you would do any different. Not that he ever had a choice in those awful things, Astarion has not had a choice in anything in two hundred years. “But you should be careful.”

“It sounds like this is a real threat,” you manage.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Astarion asks, “maybe we should… do something about the threat?”

“What would you do, if you found him, kill him?” Shadowheart asks, taking a little too much joy in this situation.

“No, I am on orders to bring him back alive,” Gandrel explains. The fear rolls off Astarion in waves, somehow that is worse, somehow that is so much worse. You’ve not doubted for a moment, since he told you, since you found out what he is and how he became it, Astarion would rather die than go back to Cazador, and he really doesn’t want to die.

“We shall keep a close eye out,” you say. You feel Astarion’s discomfort. He does to express something, annoyance perhaps but you look up at him, and he can hear you in his head, clear as that first moment when he saw your memories from the crash.

‘Trust me, I am not letting him find you, just trust me.’

And it takes all his effort, fighting every instinct he has, but he does. The others start to continue moving, and you watch Gandrel setting up camp. “I’ll be right with you,” you tell the others, letting yourself fall behind.

Gandrel is a good man from all you’ve seen. You know Astarion wants him dead. You can understand why he would feel that way, because as far as the eye can see it’s the way to keep Astarion safest. But you have another idea, a long shot, probably will end up the same way, but you’re going to try it anyway idea. And it has your hands shaking.

“Can I help you?” Gandrel asks, looking up at you from where he is laying out his bedroll. You cannot do this with his eyes on you, so you force yourself to do something you’re not very good at. You think on your feet.

“Strange question but you don’t happen to have any… wispweed do you?” you ask, eyeing his bag. “I have some payment, I just am running low.”

He gives you a smile and your heart plummets into your stomach. “Let me look,” he says, turning to reach into his bag.

You reach forward as fast your can a hand either side of his temple and you blood all of your power into freezing his muscles, you wait a short moment, checking that it has worked, but when all you can hear is the slow beat of his heart you move with more conviction. You haven’t done this in a long time, and you’ve got to get it right. You’re navigating his mind, looking for the right place, the right centre to alter, finding the pulses and the pathways. When you find them you can feel your own nerves starting to burn, this is not easy magic, this is not careful magic, it is unstable and you need it over quickly. “You don’t know anything about Astarion, you are not looking for him, and you will not find him,” you start saying, feeling the magic changing the pathways as you command it to, “even if you found him, you could not see him, you could not hear him, you would not know who or what he was, and you can never learn,” you feel sick but you know the last thing, the other thing and it tumbles from your lips before you have time to reconsider, “and if you were to be at risk of causing him harm, you would slit your own throat before putting him in danger.” You step back and your mind is swimming, the tadpole is feeding off the energy and you take no comfort in that.

Gandrel pauses before resuming what he was doing, he turns to you, empty handed. “Sorry,” he shrugs, “no luck.”

“No worries,” you say, voice shaking, “I will keep looking,” you turn on your heels, “Gandrel?”

“Yes?” he asks.

“Good luck on your hunt,” you pause, “what are you hunting again?”

He is quiet for the longest time, “A… hag?” he sounds unsure, “must be, that’s what I know is in this area.”

“Keep yourself safe,” you tell him. He tells you to do the same as you disappear to catch up with the group.

“Smart move that,” Karlach is saying to Astarion, “she has quite the head on her shoulders.”

“What?” Astarion asks, he hadn’t been paying attention, trying to listen at a distance to what you were saying and failing.

“Tav,” Karlach says, “pulling the whole wolf bit.”

“What in the gods are you talking about?” Astarion asks. Karlach eyes him, surprised that he missed it.

“When she stood in front of you,” Karlach says, like it is obvious. “Playing scared, it’s a wolf trick. When a wolf is being threatened their female mate often cowers underneath, hiding close, it looks like she’s afraid but really she is protecting the softest and most exposed part that the enemy could attack, the throat,” as Karlach explains it becomes painfully obvious that was exactly what you had been doing, you’d stepped into him, to put yourself between him and the threat, you’d been acting scared to protect him, “so when she-,”

“She was shielding me,” Astarion muses, “how thoughtful, and entirely unnecessary.”

“Sure buddy,” Karlach says laughing. “Because you weren’t scared shitless.”

“I am not dignifying that with a response,” Astarion states.

You catch up to Astarion and Karlach’s stride and Karlach starts that excited gushing she does, talking about something you wish you knew more about, but are happy to listen. “He won’t be a problem,” you whisper to him as Karlach talks. He doesn’t respond, but you can see in his eyes that he is trying to process your words. “I didn’t kill him,” you manage, quick and quiet, “but he would die before he sets eyes on you again. You don’t need to be looking over your shoulder, at least not for him.” You don’t miss the way Astarion is watching you, almost like he is hungry.

You’re setting up to settle down for the night when he beckons you over, he has barely said a thing since Gandrel and you weren’t sure if you’d upset him somehow. “Can we have a word?” he asks. You nod and follow him as he walks a distance from the campfire, leaving the others in the low amber light. “What you did,” he starts, but you’re already shrugging it off.

“He was a threat to you, I couldn’t let that be the case,” you say. He is flickering his eyes over yours, searching for something.

“That pesky little moral code of yours, you couldn’t kill him,” he says.

“I didn’t kill him,” you echo your earlier sentiments. “But I neutralised the problem… permanently.”

“You used mind magic,” he realises, you try again to shrug it off like it is nothing, but his is smiling, and it’s so coy and mischievous.

“I did not expect that to give you an ego boost,” you admit.

“That’s not easy magic darling, and you went to all that effort for little old me?” He is leaning in, grinning, his fangs unabashedly on display. Your knees feel weak at the sight of him, and you know he knows it.

“I wouldn’t let him hurt you Astarion,” you tell him, “I promised you that much. What I said when I found out what you were, I meant it. I am going to do everything in my power to make sure you get your freedom back, I mean that.”

He steps forward and you step back, and your back presses into a tree. He leans, one hand resting against the bark of the tree, just above your shoulder, almost pinning you in, as his other hand reaches up to brush a few loose strands of hair from your face. “Well, I suppose a thank you is in order,” he says, holding your chin between finger and thumb. “A reward for your protection.” He kisses you, it’s heated and fast, you can feel the way he presses against you and it steals almost every thought you have. You want this, of course you want this, you don’t remember a time you didn’t want this. But something about it makes your heart sink. Maybe it was the look in his eyes as he leaned for you, like it was so rehearsed, like he was playing this role, or maybe you can just feel something wrong, something insincere. You pull away and Astarion is nothing short of stunned.

“Is there a problem,” he asks, leaning in again, trying to regather is bearings, but you just turn your head away.

"Astarion- stop," you tell him. His whole body goes rigid, completely lost in confusion.

“I guess I misunderstood,” Astarion says, and you swear he sounds hurt. It’s his fear, the rejection, you realise so quickly, like a match being lit, what he thinks is happening. He thinks you don’t want him to kiss you, he thinks you don’t want him. He couldn’t be more wrong.

"No, it's not that, gods it's not that," you assure him. "I'd take being side by side with you, not even close enough for shoulders to brush, than... anything with anyone else. That's not it."

He blinks and his voice comes out more bitter than you would like it to be as he speaks, “then what the hells is it?” He is curious, confounded, completely unsure of where this is going. He has not been rejected, not for a long time. How could anyone turn him down? He knows he is beautiful, everyone tells him as much, he is charming and this routine always works, and yet you pull away.

"Astarion, I don't want you doing this because you think you have to," you say. Astarion isn’t sure he has heard you right. He thinks the words must be in the wrong order, or that they came out wrong.

“What?” he asks, voice devoid of any tone.

“Astarion I don’t want you to… do this, whatever this is, unless you want to,” you tell him. He is slow to register your words and you can see that on his face.

“Don’t you want me?” he asks. You feel like you could snap, the need in his voice, the desperation to be loved, wanted, desired. In spite of everything, he still craves that.

“Astarion, I want that, of course, but I only want it if you want it,” you try to explain. “I don’t want anything you don’t want, I don’t want you to do this because you think you owe me. I protected you because I care, because I wanted to, I didn’t do it so you would reward me.”

Everything he has been doing was instinct, it was taught behaviour, it is exactly what he has been doing for hundreds of years to survive, but now it was different because he wasn’t doing it for Cazador, he was doing it from himself, to protect himself from Cazador, so in it’s own way nothing has changed. It was a simple plan, sweet talk, seduce, bed, create a sense of bonding and then know that there was someone in his corner, someone who wouldn’t turn on him, someone to protect him, fight with him and for him. But you were doing all the work, you were willing to fight for him, and you weren’t asking for anything in return, and more jarringly you weren’t expecting anything in return.

"How did you know?" He asks, not able to meet your eye.

"Because our wounds might be different but our scars match just fine," you tell him. "Not being able to say no, and feeling like you cannot say no are close siblings in pain."

He is watching you now, closer, like he is seeing you anew, or maybe just truly seeing you for the first time. He had thought that you were easy to manipulate, that it would be straightforward, and in ways it was, it had been, it was easy, natural even. But he hadn’t considered how strange and natural it was to you. How you looked at him with such knowing, such understanding, but never once asked for the truth when you knew what he said was lies.

He watches you look away, turning from the light, as if you’re scared of all the things it might illuminate, suddenly lay bare.

"But you want me?" He asks.

"I don't want anything you don't," you tell him. He sighs, raking a hand over his neck, a little agitated that you're not hearing what he is asking.

"That's not what I mean, you would want me," he says, more of a statement now than a question, but his eyes still beg for an answer.

"Yes," you tell him, "I don't know how well that might go, or what that would look like but yes, I want you, and I would want to, or I want to want to... it's complicated."

"I know," he says and you know he does. "When you stepped back from Karlach," he says slowly.

"I struggle with... contact sometimes," you admit. You'd known Karlach wasn't going to touch you, that she couldn't touch you but you'd flinched anyway and it haunted you. You can feel Astarion looking at your neck now and you pinch the edges of your collar to pull it down and give him better access but he doesn't move.

"Why do you let me?" He asks.

"You need it," you say. "And I want to help."

"So, after all this you're going to start keeping things from me now?" He asks, almost coy. "Come on darling, tell me the truth."

"You need it, and I want to be needed, if I can offer you this, knowing the others can't, I know you're less likely to run from me," you say, staring at the ground, "you're not the only one looking for protection. You wanted it from the world, I wanted it from being left behind."

“You are protecting yourself,” he whispers. His eyes dance over you, taking all of you in, and he cannot help but wonder, how you could reduce yourself to thinking your only worth the blood pulsing through your veins. He catches himself, and wonders how he could let you feel that way. Or worse yet, if he made you feel that way. His plan was so easy, so simple, and it felt like you were falling for it, like he could make you fall for him, the guise, the mask, the charisma, like it was second nature. But that’s what he had been wrong about, you had fallen for him, it was obvious in those eyes that were staring right back at him. He had you at this point, this moment in time, where you would leave the entire world behind for him. But not the him he meant for you to feel this way about, the act, the rake, the smooth talker with the smile like a devil. It was the part of him that he buried under that, the man behind the vampire, that was the Astarion you were so desperate to help, to hold onto. He can not understand this care you have for him, or the feeling in his chest that is blooming from it. He doesn’t know how to do this right, not when he is known, when he is seen, when he is wanted in all the ways he had long forgotten you could want a person. Before Cazador and the betrayal and the sex and the death. The way you can want a person exactly as they are, no conditions, and no strings. You look at him and everything you do not say with words is written clearer than daylight on your face: ‘show me your sharp edges, show me your thorns, show me the most dangerous, unlovable parts of you, and I will show you my hands, open, waiting, willing to bleed.’

“You give up parts of yourself in the name of protection,” Astarion says, ringing his hands together, trying to look less fidgety, but the more he watches you, the more he understands the more this warmth spreads up his neck, this strange flush in his chest. It feels as if by some strange miracle of existence, his heart is trying to beat.

“But I am telling you,” you insist, “you do not need to do that for me, I am here, I will stand by you Astarion, hells or high waters, so you don’t need to pretend, you don’t need to do something because you think it is what I would want from you.”

“I am not pretending,” he says, a little more honest than he expected from his own mouth. “My attraction to you is genuine, my connection with you is…” he pauses, unable to find a way to make it make sense, “confusing. But I am not pretending.”

“You were pretending, you were manipulating me,” you point out.

“And you were letting me,” he says. You shrug.

“I am not stupid enough to imagine I was more than useful Astarion, which is why I want to continue being useful, we can have each others backs, and no one is left without someone in their corner, but you do not need to try and… you don’t need to make yourself uncomfortable on my behalf.”

Never in his life has Astarion wished he could hold someone without that feeling of disgust and guilt, never has he wanted to kiss someone more than in this moment. But he knows what follows, he knows how Cazador has seeped into everything, and tainted it all. Ruined it all. He doesn’t even know where to begin to undo that damage, he doesn’t know if there is a way to undo that damage. But never has he wanted more to try. He looks at you now, and he wants to kiss you, to kiss you without it being this strange twisted regret that it always becomes. He want to be real, he wants to kiss you and mean it, and let it be only what it is and not a reminder of everything that has happened to him. But he doesn’t know how to do that.

“I do care about you, you know, and I wish, I wish I knew how to be different,” he says, “but I haven’t had the time to figure that out.”

You shrug. “You’ve got all the time in the world to figure out whatever you need to figure out for yourself Astarion, and I am doing everything I can to keep that true, so we need to keep moving, and get these nasty little fuckers out of our heads, and separate Cazador from his, and everything else, we can figure out after.”

“You truly do just want to help me, don’t you?” he asks. True, selfless love, that wanting for another person, not for what it mean to you, but just so they can get what they deserve and be happy. If he asked you to stay, you would, you would drop everything to stay, and if he asked you to go, you would do the same, because you only want what is best for him. Astarion has never known a feeling like that, and he is chasing it, clawing at it, trying with both hands to get a good grip so it doesn’t slip through his fingers and run out of his grasp. He doesn’t think he could find this again, he doesn’t think he would want to. He just knowns he can’t lose this, this feeling like a beating heart in his chest when he looks at you.

“I do,” you say. “So, are we going to do this?”

“I think so Sunshine,” he says, letting that smile return, even if it is just to disguise this nervousness that is pounding at his skull.

“Okay good, then take what you need and we can get on with things,” you say, pulling your collar aside so he has best access to your neck. He looks at you and lets his eyes wander to the slope of your neck, he places a hand on your side pulling you closer and you let yourself be calm, let him do this. He leans down for the bite, lips pressed against the pulse point, and you wait for the soft pain, the dizzying feeling, but it doesn’t come. His lips brush soft and cold against that pulsation and then they pull away, leaving you with nothing but a ghost of a kiss where teeth marks should be.

“You’re worth more than that to me Sunshine,” he whispers, close enough to your ear that you can feel his words against your neck. “So much more,” and he pulls away, not giving as much as a glance as he walks back towards the others, leaving you puzzled with your heart thundering in your chest.

“Oh Star,” you whisper, to the wind more than to anything or anyone. “You are never going to be able to be unloved by me.”

[visd3stele]

Request (by @folkloregirljude ): Hello :) You could do a story of Jude and Cardan taking care of little Oak and jealous because Cardan steals his sister's attention.

TW: none, just cute, pure fluff

A/N: this is happening separate from the canon of the new book, a bit divergent from the canon of the trilogy as well. ALSO, i know it's been months, i'm SO SORRY...i got some medical issues on my hands that are solved now, so I hope this is worth the wait

also, I don't remember if Oak had hooves as well or just the little horns, but in this fic he has both.

Mine! No, mine!

The Fae Folk is not prone to change. And yet, multiple changes surveyed their world in the span of a few months. Their king died, the royal family butchered, the drunkard Cardan – out of all people! – became king and, after a brush with war against the Mer Folk, Jude Duarte became his queen.

Queen of Elfhame. Jude didn't know what to make of the title. She figured out how she feels about other titles in her life: Seneschal, she quite liked, having hidden her true influence at Court in the shadows, spy gave her a thrill for sure, but never without the dissapointment that came with it after failing to be a knight, wife, after a long time, she accepted with an embarrasing leap of her heart.

But queen, that she has yet to figure. It wasn't part of her plan. And, even though she learned to cheerish the gift of Elfhame as it accepted her in its heart without guilt or shame, even though she could see how much her husband thrived under the crown, Jude simply couldn't make peace with the title. It wasn't hers. Nor Cardan's. In her mind, it still belonged to Oak, hers and Cardan's both baby brother. Because that was the plan!

The more she looked at the little fae, playing with Cardan in the garden – jumping over his tail as if it was a skipping rope he used to love in the mortal land – the more Jude begin to doubt the plan.

"Hey, Jude," the young fae called out of breath, excitement overcoming the tiredness. "Look what I can do!"

Oak bounced from foot to foot over the lazy slash of Cardan's tail in the air, turning around and switching sides in a chaotic, funny dance. The Queen of Elfhame felt the corners of her mouth twitch despite herself. She approached the pair, coming to rest her arms on her husband's shoulders as he hug him from behind.

"That's impressive, Oak!" She said, ignoring the way Cardan's hair tickled her neck as he leaned his head back to look at her. His beautiful, deadly wife.

Cardan smiles up at her, reaching his fingers tentatively to brush over Jude's cheek. The movement spelled her, for Jude leaned into his touch, closing her eyes to enjoy the serene calmness of the moment for what seemed to be the first time in her life since arriving to Elfhame.

"Mmm," Cardan mused happily. Leaning even more to press a kiss to his right below his wife's chin. His focus shifted entirely on Jude, forgetting all about Oak and their game.

"Hey!" The young fae protested. "I wasn't done. Jude, you have to see this. Vi showed me humans dancing like this."

"Of course, Oak."

Jude pushed her husband's shoulder playfully, if only a little bit too harsh – force of habit, she supposed – pressuring him to humor their little brother.

With an amused roll of his eyes, Cardan obeyed. "Anything for you, my cunning queen."

Heat climbed all the way to Jude's ears, pushing her heart to beat faster than she could keep up with.

Oak resumed his little skipping dance. It looked more and more put together by the second, Jude noticed now that she was paying attention. Or trying to, at least. But Cardan could never miss an oportunity to touch his wife. He never quite believed that luck shone mercifully over his head in earning Jude's affection. And now that no threat loomed ovet their heads and the land claimed her as its queen and she didn't need him, Cardan needed the physical reassurence that Jude meant it when she confessed to loving him more than ever.

"You look esquiviste, as always." He pured, trailing his hand up and down the back of her neck.

Redder than a Redcape's bloodied cape, Jude snaped her glare down to Cardan. "Stop that," she snarled. "Oak..."

"... is taking a lot of your attention lately."

And it was true. The weeks following Jude's official coronation, she invited her family to stay at the palace. She couldn't bare the nauseting feeling of not knowing where they are, if they are safe. And having them so close under her nose was easier than sending the Roach or the Bomb to spy on them.

"Oh? Is that jealousy I hear, my king?"

And just like that, Cardan's semblance of control faded into nothing. He would never admit it, but being king has been something he cherrished, despite the dire circumstances that led to and conditioned his reign. He liked the mind games the Court required of him and all the ways he discovered he could help and protect Elfhame without shedding blood or lifting a sword. Hearing the title fall through his Jude's lips in earnest love and admiration – more than he could have ever hoped for – untied any thread of decorum he sewed.

Cardan stumbled over himself as he rose in one hurried jump to cup his wife's face in his hands. An indignat huff from Oak, however, put a stop to the kiss he meant to share with Jude.

"Cardan!" The kid complained. "You had Jude all day yesterday at the meeting. Let me show her my game!"

"Later, kid," Cardan grumbled.

"Now!" Oak countered, stomping his little hooved foot, crossing his arms and leveling Cardan with all the authoruty he could muster.

The High King was having none of it. He moved behind Jude, wraping his arms around her waist and his tail all the way up to her calf. He rest his head atop hers, fully taking advantage of his height. And stuck his toungue out at Oak.

"Jude's my wife."

"She was my sister first!" And with that crying battle, Oak marched towards the royal pair. He stomped onto the fluffy end of Cardan's tail that rested on the side of Jude's foot, trying to free his sister from her husband's grip when the latter yelped and retreated in pain.

Cardan recovered swiftly, though, and grabbed Jude's arm before Oak could pull her away. "Go play, kid."

"Isn't the time of your noon drink?"

"You little..."

"Alright, alright, that's enough!" Jude, who so far has been watching the scene with an awed amusement settled on her face, broke free from her boys. "How about I spend some time with Oak now and you," she waved dismissingly at Cardan, "put together one of those surprise dinner dates you're so fond of for when Oak falls asleep?"

The High Queen of Elfhame didn't let out any space for arguments, despite her tone being inquiring. The rest of the day would go exactly as she said it would. Because, truth be told, she wasn't Oak's or Cardan's, they were both hers.

[traveling-historian]

...Ah~! Here we are...

It's been a while since I've used one of these.

Ahem.

Hello, you may call me Vee~ I've moved fairly recently to Castelia City for a bit of a fresh start. I'm a bit...new to "social media" so do extend some patience, aha~

I'm rather fond of history, more specifically mythology, and am constantly in search of more knowledge.

It seems to be popular to include more information regarding yourself down below.

He/him and they/them are my pronouns and I'm currently 29 years old. I'm fairly tall, I believe around 190cm last I checked.

Originally from... Sinnoh.

My current team consists of:

Spiritomb ♂ - Seneca

Roserade ♂ - Amnon

Togekiss ♀ - Eden

Hisuian Arcanine ♀ - Eris

Lucario ♂ - Malachi

Garchomp ♂ - Ramiel

((OOC NOTE: Please read before interacting!!

Hey hey! Welcome to my Pokémon rp blog. On this blog I will be pretending as if the world of Pokémon is 100% real. This being said, I will be including pkmn rp tags in each post that fits that description as a warning.

Friendly reminder that if you try to engage a plot with me or any kind of offscreen rp experience without at least discussing it with me first, then I will likely not respond. Even if you do approach me with something in mind, there is no guarantee I will engage. Also I tend not to interact or engage in any big events. They tend to become overwhelming for me and you’ll most likely never find me becoming a part of them. Please don’t send in asks regarding big events.

If you are looking to interact with my muse, and your muse is tied to some potentially triggering topics, I would prefer if you discussed potential interactions with me first. This is for my own comfort, so please keep this in mind.

That being said, this blog will likely contain some triggering topics, such as religion, religious guilt/trauma, paranoia, dissociation and other things of this nature.

Admin is an adult! If this makes you uncomfortable then move along.

This is an RP blog, however this specific version of Volo is CANON DIVERGENT and based off an au of mine. For more information regarding this specific au please read the brief summary below:

Volo is a time traveler who's recently fled from Hisuian era Sinnoh not long after the events of PLA. He ran away via space time distortion, which sent him to modern day Unova. He's adopted the alias of "Vee" and will deny any sort of relation to "Volo" or Cynthia.

Volo is not originally from Hisui and has spent a majority of his life jumping through timelines, so he's fairly familiar with the modern day. However he's spent quite a while in Hisui, so there will be a bit of a culture shock. His grasp on current events may be a bit dated as well.

He labels himself as a historian who specializes in mythology, however his intent is to learn more about Arceus and other Pokemon deities. He carefully hides any malintent behind a slightly unsettling mask of friendliness and sociability.

ONCE AGAIN this blog will contain some POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING TOPICS such as religion, religious guilt/trauma, paranoia, dissociation, and other topics that relate to Volo's experience as a religious man with an unhealthy obsession with "god" who also deals with paranoia and other mental issues.

Please be aware that when I am talking as Vee (Volo), he may appear unsettling or not in touch with reality. If you are uncomfortable with this, it may be in your best interest to move along. If something ever comes off as rude/mean, it does not reflect how I actually feel and is just how I believe Vee (Volo) would react.

This blog is SFW, save for vaguely suggestive topics. Anything that is deemed as explicitly NSFW will be deleted on sight.

Another warning. This blog may often be involved in long RP threads. I won’t be using any programs to cut my long posts short. If this bothers you, I would recommend skipping this blog or blocking the tag “long post” or “rp thread”.

Also! I follow and like from @ripoff-robbie-rotten.

HERE IS A REFERENCE I MADE FOR MY VERSION OF VOLO.

DNI: Proshippers, TERFS, and NSFW blogs))

[waywardsculs]

This place is a ℂ𝕀ℝℂ𝕌𝕊,

you just see the surface They cover shit under the rug

You can't see they're 𝔽𝔸𝕂𝕀ℕ𝔾,

they'll never be naked

Just fill your drink with tonic gin,

this is the American dream

Hey yo what's up you filthy fucking sinners welcome to my little multimuse blog for Vivziepop's HAZBIN HOTEL and HELLUVA BOSS , featuring characters like VELVETTE , LILITH and FIZZAROLLI .

That said, I go by Ritsu, She/Her or They/Them, 30, Australian and just generally tryna chill. You can find my rules below.

OTHER BLOGS

@constellaris ( multifandom multimuse, sideblog ) @harmonysheart ( robin from honkai star rail, sideblog )

AFFILIATED WITH: @bittcnneck , @hellshoard , @cxncrie , @ochtendster / @dageraadster , @sinfuldxgenerates ♥

Header & Promo Credit. || Pinned Credit. Dash Icon Credit. || Icon Template Credit. MDNI & 18+ Warning Credit. || Divider Credit.

IMPORTANT NOTE : if you ship adam with charlie, for both of us, it would be best you do not follow me if you don't intend to tag it. i'm sorry, but it makes me so vehemently uncomfortable that i just would prefer to keep my distance.

Keep the setting of the show in mind when looking to interact. Not all muses will be friendly or even remotely nice. Don't take it personally.

I'll be as canon divergent as I feel like. Let's face it, the second we take up writing a character we're making shit that ain't ever gonna be canon. Let's just have fun.

Muse ≠ Mun. Shouldn't have to say this, but I will anyway. Some muses might be assholes, but I try not to be. You're free to come talk to me any time, I'm usually just tired lmao.

I will not be following any pre-conceived relationships with OCs unless specifically discussed prior to interaction. For example, one of my OCs (Ambriel) has her main story tied to Velvette, being that she works for her, however this only applies to my Velvette. I will not push this on any others who write Velvette, and I expect the same in return.

I am very into shipping. Our muses should kiss. Bang. Fuck around. You know what it is. I'm a ship hoe and I don't care.

NSFW content may be present. I'll make sure it's tagged as #nsfw cw or #suggestive cw for easy blocking if you guys need it, but don't be surprised if it shows up from time to time. You shouldn't be, not with the nature of the show.

Mutuals only. Meaning you need to be following this blog and be followed in return from my main blog for us to count as mutuals. If you are using a hub blog, please have your blog(s) linked somewhere so I know who you are. Otherwise I block personals on sight.

Due to personal reasons, I will only ever touch on angst threads / content in general with people I feel I can trust immensely. Please do not push me for this. I may also post occasional ideas, but I will be very picky about who I explore these with.

Every ship is in its own verse and completely separate from one another. There will never be any form of infidelity occurring on this blog in any way. To expand on this, I also will not partake in any polyships or any situations where my muse has more than one romantic or sexual partner.

I never try to hide the fact that I do struggle with my mental health a lot, and I cannot stress enough that I need any and all of my partners to be understanding with it. I have been formally diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, General Anxiety Disorder, Social Anxiety Disorder, Major Depressive Disorder and Autism Spectrum Disorder. All of this is by no means an excuse in any way for anything, I simply hope this may help explain some of my behaviour at times.

I have a life away from Tumblr. I won't always be around to write replies or chat. That's how life is. I work, I have responsibilities, and those take priority.

I don't do passwords/pass phrases. If I follow you, it's safe to assume I've read your rules. I always do before following anyone.

I'm not here for drama. I know you see this everywhere, but I'll be real - I barely have the spoons to live lately. I just wanna vibe and enjoy a hobby, not take part in any bullshit. Leave me out of things unless it's absolutely imperative I know about something.

No art on this blog is mine unless I openly state otherwise. The usual. Let's leave it at that babes.

Ships I Will Not Write / Do Not Like

I will not be elaborating on why I dislike them or won't write them. These are simply things I've found I really don't like and, if possible, would prefer tagged so I can simply block them.

AdamsApple (Adam/Lucifer), Velmilla (Velvette/Carmilla), Charlastor/Radiobelle (Alastor/Charlie), Valentino/Angel Dust, Adam/Charlie, Valentino/Charlie

[roleplay-abiogenesis2]

𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘕𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘌𝘓𝘓 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘗𝘖𝘛𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘠 𝘔𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘞𝘙𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖𝘎𝘌𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘈 𝘓𝘖𝘛 𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘐𝘌𝘙. REPOST DO NOT REBLOG !!

NAME: Saru-mun

PRONOUNS : He/Him

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : IMs or Discord. Definitely not tags I am horrible at them and sometimes forget to even read them. Sorry!

NAME OF MUSE(s) : Cyno is the overlord of the blog, with my Sephiroth sideblog as the strongest second. With that said, I have many other muses from other fandoms. Currently they are on a by-request basis, but I might throw them in the dash if the mood strikes!

BEST EXPERIENCE : This is tough because it cannot really be replicated on Tumblr, but group roleplay on FFXI and FFXIV is where my heart is at. I truly miss roleplaying the game story with a colorful cast of friends.

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS :

- Trivializing my character's challenges. I do not mind writing with powerful characters with all sorts of abilities, but if you go out of your way to make your character effortlessly rid mine of his problems or adversities he's currently facing (such as insta-healing him when he's down for the count), I won't be happy. Make sure your character's actions have a greater purpose than just showing off what he or she can do.

MUSE PREFERENCES: Canon filler. This is the words I use to describe plotting and writing events that can believably fill holes in a muse's canon timeline without contradicting the lore. I also love to write story divergences that may result from canon filler plots! Overall, I am a sucker for going back in time and tell the story of our characters from their childhood and upbringing.

PLOTS OR MEMES : Both~ Memes are great for icebreakers, and often get the juices flowing to plot bigger stuff!

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : Both! The length of my replies varies with the pace of the scenes. Combat and arguments are quick paced and will therefore create shorter replies. But if your muse does or says something that will kick mine into deep self-reflection, you can expect a multi-paragraphs post.

BEST TIME TO WRITE : I find that inspiration strikes me best late at night, just before bedtime. Not good for my 9-5 working schedule but what can I do? xD

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) : Not much. Some muses have certain aspects in their story that resonate with me personally, but it's never a 100% relatable situation. Experience taught me that the best way to keep IC and OOC separate is to write muses as far removed from yourself as possible, and I try to stay true to that lesson.

Tagged by: @grislyintentions (there ya go you stalker!) @shouga-nai (here it is!)

Tagging: @azure-steel, @soldier-lodbrok, @charlatanry

[fanficapologist]

Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Forty

Autumn had descended upon the Red Keep gardens, painting a vivid tapestry of russet and gold across the landscape. The air carried the first hints of crispness, a harbinger of the season's arrival. The leaves of the trees, once resplendent in shades of green, now donned hues of crimson, gold, and amber, their canopies forming a vibrant canopy above. The air was crisp with the promise of cooler days to come.

The delicate scent of fallen leaves mingled with the sweet fragrance of late-blooming flowers, creating an olfactory symphony that enveloped all who ventured into this lush sanctuary. Fountains and reflecting pools still sparkled beneath the autumn sun, their waters mirroring the tranquil beauty of the changing world around them. Statues of the Seven, draped in ivy and lichen, seemed to watch over the shifting seasons with a serene wisdom.

Maera walked gracefully along the meandering pathway of the royal gardens, Ser Arryk at her side. The memory of Ser Arryk's previous role as a chaperone during her encounters with suitors flitted through her mind, particularly the one involving Lord Warren. How times had changed since then, she mused, her steps deliberate and measured.

As they strolled through the garden, Maera couldn't help but take in the surroundings. The lush greenery that had once been vibrant with summer life was now beginning to undergo a subtle transformation as autumn crept in. Leaves of red and gold had started to emerge, casting a warm and inviting hue over the landscape.

Maera's heart beat a little faster as she considered the significance of the impending meeting with Prince Aemond. The changing seasons and the watchful demeanor of her protector were stark reminders that courtly life, like the garden around her, was in a state of flux.

Turning her gaze to Ser Arryk, she couldn't help but notice that his normally expressive face was unusually stoic. His hazel eyes, typically warm and reassuring, were fixed on the path ahead with a fierce intensity. Even beneath his mousey brown beard, she could discern the telltale signs of tension – a clenched jaw and a firm resolve. It was as if he anticipated some unseen threat on this day, though his unwavering presence by her side offered a measure of comfort. Concern welled up within her, and she felt compelled to address it.

Maera came to a sudden halt, causing Ser Arryk to stop alongside her. "My lady?" he inquired, his voice tinged with curiosity. Her pause was unexpected.

Maera looked into his eyes, her own filled with sincerity. "Ser Arryk," she began, her voice soft but earnest, "I want you to know how much I've appreciated your loyalty these past few months." She took a deep breath before continuing, "I'd like to think that we're more than just allies, that we're friends." Her eyes searched his for a hint of understanding, for she had noticed the change in his demeanor recently. "Is everything well with you?" she asked gently.

He acknowledged her concern with a genuine smile, saying, "Your concern for me warms my heart, my lady. I'm glad we share such a close bond." He let out a sigh, and with each step, the weight of his words became apparent.

"The truth is," Ser Arryk continued, "my nameday is approaching, and this will be the first time I spend it without Erryk." His voice carried a touch of melancholy as he revealed this deeply personal matter to Maera.

Empathetic to his feelings, Maera asked softly, "Do you miss your brother greatly?" She touched his arm sympathetically, her green eyes reflecting her genuine concern.

Arryk didn't hesitate in his response, his voice tinged with sorrow. "More than you know," he admitted, the weight of his emotions apparent in his words.

Maera offered a small, understanding smile, her heart aching for the knight. "I pray every night that this war will end soon," she confessed, "and now, I will pray that you and your brother find their way back to each other."

Arryk smiled at her sadly, gratitude evident in his eyes. Her compassion was a soothing balm to his wounded soul, and he appreciated her understanding.

She removed her arm from his and continued to walk beside him, her voice gentle. "Is there anything else that's been bothering you, Ser Arryk?" She hoped to provide him with an opportunity to express his thoughts. The knight paused, as if searching for the correct words within his mind.

"May I speak freely, my lady?" he asked, his voice tinged with hesitation.

Maera nodded in agreement. "Of course, Ser Arryk. You may always speak your mind with me."

Ser Arryk spoke cautiously, his words heavy with unspoken concerns. "I cannot believe you are marrying Prince Aemond," he stated bluntly, his tone revealing the depth of his emotions.

Maera chuckled softly, assuming his concern was about her own feelings on the matter. "Believe me," she replied with a wry grin, "I felt the same way at first. I thought my head would be on a pike instead of becoming a princess." Her words were light-hearted, but Ser Arryk's reaction revealed a deeper sentiment.

His jaw tensed again as he clarified, "Lady Maera, you've misunderstood me." Confusion flickered in her eyes as she looked at him, waiting for an explanation. He emphasized his point with a touch of disdain, "I cannot believe you are marrying him." His words were heavy with unspoken concerns and perhaps a hint of disapproval, which left Maera pondering the complexity of her upcoming union with the prince.

Maera nodded resolutely, her expression a blend of determination and resignation. "I know you do not approve, Ser. And I am aware of the differences between you and the Prince," she acknowledged, her voice steady, "but what am I to do? I must obey my father's wishes and marry Aemond for the good of the realm." It was a weighty decision and one that she had grown to accept as her duty.

Ser Arryk avoided her gaze, his own features etched with concern as he spoke. "The match has put you in greater danger," he stated bluntly, his tone carrying a sense of urgency. He elaborated, explaining the intricate web of alliances and rivalries that had emerged. "Prince Jacaerys' bond with House Stark has the Northmen backing Rhaenyra's claim, and with Prince Daemon securing the Vale, the Greens will need more allies." The political landscape was becoming increasingly treacherous.

Maera absorbed the information, her mind processing the events unfolding in the realm. However, she was not content with just the broader picture. She pressed further, stating, “I feel there is more to you concerns.”

Ser Arryk sighed, his gaze distant as he recalled past events. "There was a time I thought Prince Aemond was better than Aegon," he admitted, a hint of regret in his voice. "But since Aemond killed young Lucerys, Rhaenyra's favorite son, I've concluded that he's no better than Aegon." The memory of that tragic event lingered like a shadow.

Maera's brows furrowed as she listened, her concern for both herself and Aemond deepening. Ser Arryk's next words weighed heavily on her heart. "Lady Maera, you're in more danger than ever," he warned, his voice laced with worry. "I'm certain that Rhaenyra will exact revenge on Aemond for killing her son, and she could use you to achieve that." The realization of the precarious position she was in left Maera with a sense of unease and uncertainty about the path that had been chosen for her. She knew of the death of Prince Lucerys, but she doubted Aemond was capable of murder. Yet, some years had passed, and Lucerys taking his eye had a profound impact on the Prince. It was something that Maera had not brought up with Aemond. Partly because she did not want to know if her betrothed had intended to kill the boy, but mostly because she was scared that she knew the answer.

Ser Arryk continued, clearly irked by discussing the one-eyed Prince. “There was a perfectly good match between yourself and Lord Warren, my Lady. But the Prince could not allow it. Not because of any advantage for the realm, but simply because he could. It is twisted. I do not trust him,” the knight growled, his hazel eyes darting as if searching for an answer for Aemond’s behaviour. Maera knew her relationship with the Prince was a complicated one, but she hoped for the sake of her future, it would continue moving in a positive direction.

In the midst of her unease, she turned to Ser Arryk, her protector, her friend. Her voice trembled slightly as she asked him a question that held great significance, "Do you remember the oath you swore to me? About being my sole protector?"

Ser Arryk met her gaze with unwavering commitment. He nodded firmly, his voice resolute, "Until my dying breath, my Lady."

A small, appreciative smile touched Maera's lips as she replied, "I'm glad, Ser Arryk. I trust you to carry out your job thoroughly, to protect me from harm." She hesitated briefly before adding, "Even when I become Aemond's wife." The weight of her choice was evident in her words.

Ser Arryk bit his lip, his expression conflicted. He finally stated, "I'll protect always you, my Lady. Even… from Aemond if needed." It was a solemn declaration of his unwavering loyalty.

Maera's response was filled with hope as she gently replied, "I hope it won't come to that." The thought of strife between her protector and her husband was a troubling one.

After an awkward pause, Maera shifted the conversation, acknowledging Ser Arryk's deep care for her. "I'm fortunate to have you care so much for my welfare, Ser Arryk," she said sincerely. "And you should know that I plan to secure a network of spies within the Keep." She looked to Ser Arryk, her trust in him evident.

"That's wise," he agreed. "A Princess needs all the allies she can get in a place such as King’s Landing."

Passing a statue of the hooded Stranger, Maera couldn't help but ponder the risks she faced. The last time she saw Rhaenyra, Maera was a girl of ten years old. Her dealings with the then Princess had been limited, and by all accounts, Rhaenyra appeared strong but reasonable. However, Maera knew the fierce nature mothers could possess, particularly when it came to protecting or avenging their children. The thought of Rhaenyra's potential reactions both unnerved and terrified her.

But just as her thoughts delved into worry, Maera and Ser Arryk rounded the corner, and there stood Prince Aemond, twirling a red carnation blossom in his fingers. The sight of her intended stirred a mix of emotions within Maera, a reminder of the complex path she had chosen and the uncertainties that lay ahead.

The Prince’s tall figure was a striking presence against the backdrop of autumnal beauty. His long, silvery-white hair, like moonlight captured in strands, cascaded down his back, lending an air of ethereal elegance to his form. A black leather overcoat billowed around him in the gentle breeze as he stood with an air of quiet confidence, his presence commanding attention even in the midst of the garden's splendor.

The leather eyepatch concealed a missing eye, but it did little to diminish the intensity of his remaining violet gaze on Maera’s form. His fingers continued to twirl the red blossom around, the same fingers that had had her crumbling before him many days ago. It was almost as if he was taunting her, a sly smile on his lips. But it excited her, and sent a wave of arousal through her core.

With Ser Arryk watching over her, Maera approached Prince Aemond with the grace and poise expected of a noblewoman. She executed a deep curtsy, her turquoise and golden skirts spreading out elegantly, her eyes respectfully cast downward. As she remained in her lowered position, she felt the gentle touch of Aemond's thumb and forefinger on her chin, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. A faint smile played upon his lips, and Maera rose from her curtsy to face him.

In the moment that followed, Aemond purred in their mother tongue, “Skorkydoso sȳz naejot ūndegon ao obūljagon,” How delightful to see you on your knees, his tone filled with desire. “Nyke jaelarys ziry iksos nykeā ybon ao jāhor sagon isse angez hae issa ābrazȳrys.” It is a position I hope to see you in often as my wife.

Maera's eyes widened at his words, her cheeks flushing with a mix of surprise and embarrassment. She whispered, "Ziry jāhor rȳbagon ao,” He will hear you, her voice laced with concern.

Prince Aemond, however, seemed unperturbed. He responded confidently, "Se azantys daor ȳzaldrīzes valyrio eglie,” The knight does not speak High Valyrian. With that, he dropped the red carnation he had been twirling to the ground and gestured for Maera to follow him. She complied, and together, they ventured into the enchanting gardens, Ser Arryk maintaining a watchful distance a few meters away.

As they wandered through the serene gardens, Aemond's keen perception picked up on Maera's underlying nervousness. He pointed it out, his tone light but perceptive. "Ao vestragon rūnarys,”You seem a bit nervous, he observed, his eyes studying her closely.

Maera initially denied her anxiety, a faint smile tugging at her lips as Aemond attempted to jest with her. He asked cheekily, "Kostagon ao daor jiōragon renigon issa hen aōha bartos?” Can you not get my fingers out of your mind?

His comment elicited a smile from her, but she shook her head, dispelling the notion. "No," she replied in the common tongue, her voice sincere, "it's not that."

Maera met Aemond's gaze, her eyes reflecting a depth of understanding. "I'm aware of the Blacks' advances over Westeros," she admitted, her voice carrying a touch of concern. Aemond hummed in response, acknowledging the ongoing conflict.

With a sense of vulnerability, Aemond probed further. "Does it frighten you?" he inquired, his gaze unwavering. Maera didn't shy away from the truth. "Now that I'm going to be your wife," she replied honestly, "it puts me more at risk." The weight of her impending marriage to a prince was not lost on her.

Aemond's demeanor shifted as he turned his gaze over his shoulder at Ser Arryk, a faint glare in his eye. Suspicion seemed to linger in the air as he redirected his attention to Maera. He asked her directly in High Valyrian, "Gōntan mīsio yn pa iotāpagon isse aōha bartos?”Did your protector put these notions in your head? The question hung in the air, hinting at a deeper concern and perhaps a sense of protectiveness over Maera's thoughts and fears.

Maera's frown deepened as she listened to Aemond's words, and she responded with a resolute tone, "Nyke kirine ziry ivestretan issa. Ziry tepagon issa jēda naejot kȳvanon nykēla,”I'm glad he told me. It gives me a chance to prepare myself. Her thoughts were a whirlwind as she wandered over to one of the garden's trees, her fingers gently brushing against the green leaves that had yet to turn the hues of yellow and orange.

Maera voiced her concerns aloud, acknowledging the weight of her impending marriage. "I'm marrying a man who killed the enemy's favorite son," she stated, her voice tinged with unease. "Surely Rhaenyra will be out for revenge."

Aemond approached her, his humming indicating a mixture of emotions. He stood opposite her, ensuring she had no choice but to meet his gaze. With a calm and confident demeanor, he countered her fears. "You're marrying a Prince of the blood. A skilled fighter, a warrior who rides the largest dragon in the world," he pointed out. "A competent man who is not simple-minded."

His hand reached out to cup her cheek, and Maera instinctively leaned into his touch. Aemond's eyes bore into hers as he asked her a crucial question, "Do you honestly think I would let any harm come to you?"

The intimacy of the moment left Maera momentarily speechless, her heart racing. Aemond continued, his voice filled with conviction, "I would command Vhagar to set the world ablaze if I found a hair harmed on your head." His words were both a vow and a declaration of his unwavering protectiveness.

Maera couldn't help but smirk at his fervent assurance. She looked down, a playful glint in her eyes as she remarked, "Well, it would be a waste of a kingdom if it did come to that." The tension of the previous conversation seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of connection and understanding between the two.

As Maera and Aemond continued their leisurely stroll through the gardens, they passed by courtiers who greeted the pair with respectful nods and bows. Amid the noble crowd, Maera's keen eyes spotted a noblewoman cradling a babe in her arms, the child gurgling and wide-eyed with wonder as they gazed upon the garden's vibrant scenery. The sight brought a warm smile to Maera's face, a fleeting moment of innocence amidst the complexities of court life.

Turning her attention back to her betrothed, Maera couldn't resist commenting on his previous promise to the little Prince. "You shouldn't be promising our nephew an army of cousins," she remarked.

Aemond's smirk revealed a hint of playfulness as he retorted, "Well, it is you that comes from a family of twenty-nine trueborn children." He chuckled at his own remark, clearly finding humor in the situation.

Maera scoffed in response, her sarcasm evident. "It took four women to get to those numbers," she retorted, her tone teasing. She then asked, with mock seriousness, "Were you planning to include other women to achieve that number of children?" Her playful banter was met with Aemond's hum and a straight face as he seemingly fixed his gaze on a stone wall. Maera’s gaze followed, knowing that the wall that held memories, not all of them positive, as it marked the place where they had initially reunited after many years apart. It was a stark contrast to the camaraderie they now shared, and the memory brought a fond smile to her lips.

She drew Aemond's attention back to her with a playful comment. "Your mother had the right idea by producing a sensible number of children," she noted, her tone more lighthearted. "Four. It seems like a more manageable number than twenty-nine, do you not think?”

Aemond nodded in agreement with Maera's comment about Queen Alicent's more reasonable number of children. "I am inclined to agree with you on that," he acknowledged with a slight smile.

Reaching the stoney edge of the gardens, Maera spotted the shoreline and couldn't resist the urge to climb atop some rocks for a better view over the garden wall. The salty sea air filled her lungs, and she gazed out at the picturesque scene before her. On the windswept shoreline, the two largest dragons of their age, Vhagar and Ēbrion, were spotted by the Lady and the Prince, feasting together on the carcasses of aurochs, their colossal forms casting imposing shadows over the rugged terrain.

Maera could now discern each of the beasts sizes more clearly. Vhagar, resplendent in green and bronze scales, possessed a longer neck that allowed her to reach the choicest morsels with ease. But the behemoth of dark blue and black, Ēbrion, had his colossal wings spread wide, larger than his companions, creating an imposing silhouette against the shoreline.

The sound of their feasting echoed along the shoreline to the gardens, a primal symphony of vocal trilling, crunching bones and rending flesh. Smoke and steam billowed from their nostrils with each breath, adding an otherworldly element to the scene. Maera couldn't help but find their behavior rather touching, as if they had found a level of understanding and cooperation through hunting prey together.

Her attention returned to Aemond, who had a more serious tone as he spoke. "Marriage will be full of complex decisions, I’m sure, and I do not think we will be able to discuss all the arrangements for the future today,” he began, a slight edge to his smooth voice. “Perhaps we can discuss our plans further upon my return," he stated, his gaze steady as he looked at her.

Maera, now curious, furrowed her brows and asked, "What do you mean?" Her voice held a note of uncertainty as she stepped down from the rocks, eager to understand the cryptic statement.

Notes: Ser Arryk is such a cute lil bean honestly

Tags: @manipulatixe @marvelescvpe @shesjustanothergeek @blue-serendipity @grungegrrrl

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

[laprimera]

alrighty so after some reflection and getting some outside stuff prioritized Im done some blog housework so I can get comfortable here again.

im still gonna continue my hiatus until november cause the rest of October still has a lot of rl appointments and stuff going on. ill be nuking my ask and drafts to get into maximum turtle plot overdrive and just start things clean, but here's the skinny under cut:

. Ive went and cleaned up my followers list. mostly of inactive blogs, non-mutual or blogs that haven't reached out or interacted at all. I use to think I liked a busier dash but I think trying to keep up with it had been giving me anxiety even if my muses weren't involved in anything plot wise. FOMO has been really killing my vibe more then anything and I need to cut that habit out.

you're a-okay to refollow though! I'll do the same. none of this was done out of malice or a personal dislike, and I get being so busy w/ life and personal plots that you cant interact with everyone in a convenient moment. but if you see this as an opportunity to reach out then by all means! that and I might've accidentally unfollowed one or two of you cause side-blog deal, clumbsy thumbs, and uuh, dont mind me realizing that later down the line-my bad!

. unless carefully plotted otherwise, anything outside my own canons, affiliated blogs/mains or plots is no longer canon to my own. any interaction or thread initiated towards my muses will default fall into my lore/verse unless vice versa or its plotted and etc etc. It's no longer just hanging there in the void so to speak. I need to feel more in control of my own narrative I think and trying to puzzle a lot of contradicting outside plots, dash events, etc has been mentally taxing when rp shouldn't be occupying so much space or anxiety to begin with lol.

this isn't to say everything thats happening in the dash or w/ other characters isn't important ofc! and I still want to participate; it'll just fall under a crack/non-canon tag. if things end up lining up p' well with whats going on here then I might take it into canon. This is p' much what I've been doing to begin with, it's just more concrete now and Im being more careful of what Im willing to accept now. Im ofc open to discussing stuff! DMs and disco for those who have it are open always even if I take a moment to get to it!

. Im no longer answering anon asks that are personal in some way, ie, around subject matters that aren't general headcanons asks or 'hey how do you feel about-' sorta deal. I dont feel comfortable taking it to public and while I understand having the fear of being identified, it's not fair if I'm the only one bearing the subject so to speak. If you want to talk to me through DMs you can either tell me your UN (no burners either) so I can bypass permissions here to chat or you can reach me at @shiny-miltank where my IMs are not barred to mutuals only. I don't bite really! and my discord is not public. tbh Im still very anxious about being on disco to begin w/ cause social anxiety flare ups. idk tumblr dms always seemed easier to chat until I know you on a personal basis-its just worked that way.

. making it more strict that you dont? put my geeta in place of plots, events, etc that I havent participated or plotted with, nor can you make assumptions for them based on said events. as slapped on every piece on my about/rules/pinned/etc shes heavily canon-divergent to begin with so no one knows her intentions/actions (save for me ofc) and wont act in what presumed canon-geeta would do or your own version so to speak. easy enough to slap me an IM for "is it okay to-", plotting, or just make a nebulous npc stand-in.

. things that havent changed are the use of my lore and headcanons into your own! I love seeing it integrated or adapted into other lore and seeing just how much it inspires and changes over time!

this all seems rigid but really it's just reiterating whats already in my rules and no one here has been a huge offender at all :' ) this is more for me to follow and I cant thank everyone enough for their patience and creativity for as long as I've been here. Im loosey goosey and go with the flow 90 out of 100 times.

this goes for the rest of my muses, which Ill probably clean up when Im back-but yeah! miss ya'll! hope you've been doin' good! the terrapagos plot will continue then and Ill resume reaching out and leaving details! hopefully in time for dlc ; >

[strscrossed]

hi!

stella or rae, she/her, 30+ ❤️

this is my writing sideblog for fics and current fandom fixations. i like to muse and post my thoughts here a lot and i like to word vomit my ideas here!

my main blog is @startouches so if you have anything personal, advice, or need to rant, please send those asks there.

my current hyperfixation is aot. my ships are mainly eremika, jeanpiku, and jikupiku but i am a multishipper and i like most ships! my other interests are hotd, jjk, thg/tbosas, star wars, various books and tv show!

this blog is 18+! so minors please do not interact! there is quite a bit of nsfw and dark content here! this is a safe space for all ideas so please keep that in mind!

ask box: open

ficlet requests are open!

tags

asks

miscellaneous posts

ficlets

tumblr aus:

mean dom hobo eren

high school reincarnation au

divorce au

mechanic paths au

pirate au

baby trapping au

nannykasa

unemployed mikasa au

omegaverse apocalypse au

published on ao3

🖤 i killed the sun for you - [eremika / warlord au / multi-chapter / ongoing]

❤️ blood red and sweet - [eremika / royalty au / multi-chapter / ongoing]

💜 a losing game - [jeanpiku / canon-divergence au / multi-chapter / on-going]

💛 i promise you a million tomorrows - [eremika / modern cabin au / multi-chapter / ongoing]

💐 to another place and time - [eremika / 123 elopement au / one-shot / complete]

🌊 and then the sea swept in - [jeanpiku / modern au / multi-chapter / hiatus]

🔥 i know your devils by name - [jeanpiku / role-reversal au / multi-chapter / complete]

✨ serendipity - [eremika / actor au / multi-chapter / ongoing]

🥀 love you to death - [eremika / death and the maiden au / multi-chapter / ongoing]

🌙 dreaming of your moonlight glow - [eremika / divorce au / one-shot / complete]

ideas/upcoming:

-> victorian serial killer au - au where eren is a surgeon by day, serial killer that haunts the red light district at night and he meets and falls in love with a prostitute named mikasa.

-> princess and her monster au - au where mikasa, a princess, meets and falls in love with titan!eren and they run away together.

-> swiss summer au - au where eren meets mikasa in the swiss alps the summer before his residency program starts and they fall in love and become attached at the hip.