#...he wouldn't have gone anyways. that's not his style. and he was very tired. and had a lot of science to do too

[simptasia]

there’s a 70% chance that any person daniel interacted with at oxford had been in an orgy there

[noveauskull]

Her Highness And Her Gem [NSFW]

characters: rafayel x reader

warnings: 18+, smut, spoilers for Rafayel's "wander in wonder" card, fingering, oral (f! receiving), reverse cowgirl, doggy style, prone bone, praising (m! receiving), no protection (piv), cocky princess reader, dominant reader, Lemurian Rafayel, porn with P L O T

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"What's going on? Why is everyone gathered in her Highness's throne room?"

"Didn't you hear? Messengers from every corner of the land brought these so-called "gifts" for her highness"

"Gifts?"

"It's to alleviate her boredom, apparently..."

You continued to listen to the unnecessary chattering of the maids surrounding the room, holding back from rolling your eyes at how ridiculous the entire situation was.

This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't escaped the palace for the 10th time this month.

It can't be helped. Your boredom was going to kill you before your age did, what's so wrong with wanting to see the outside world once in a while?

You were getting tired of every offer given by other Kingdoms and Empires through men. It was starting to get old by how they all carried good looks but no talent in bed, even a few aphrodisiacs couldn't satisfy you.

You weren't the best princess out there. Rebellious, cruel and salacious. Those were the words often used by others to describe you, most people expect a princess to be on their best behaviour, kind-hearted and pure, but you couldn't care less about such unimportant things.

"Bring them in, quickly" You wasted no time in telling the female messenger, and she nodded before clapping twice as a signal.

As of right now, while your eyes stared into the men walking in the room with attires of different erotic styles, your brain was stuck on finding another way to escape, and where you would visit once you had succeeded.

"Your Highness, have a look. These men are all pleasing to the eye"

Without realizing it, you let out a disappointed and stress-filled sigh. Make the female messenger take it as you are feeling unsatisfied with the line of men in front of you.

You didn't bother clearing up the misunderstanding as you would have preferred them all gone anyway, but then you watched as the female messenger winked at the group. They all suddenly made way for a certain individual.

"Would your highness be open to a handsome Lemurian to stroke the flames of your curiousity?" She said with a proud smile.

Your eyes immediately found a place on the violet-haired man, wearing a gold-adorned outfit that barely did anything to cover his erotic body. The sight was quite a surprise as you never expected to hear the words "Lemurian" along with it.

Without realization, you had a mischievous grin plastered on your face.

Watching how the Lemurian man looked uninterested while maintaining eye contact with you, his hands were tied with thick cuffs to prevent him from trying to escape. Maybe that's why he didn't look too happy.

"Very well, the rest can leave" You waved off the female messenger and her group of men away, signalling the maids to escort them out as you got up from your seat.

You walked down from your throne and stood in front of the Lemurian man, eyeing him closely. His eyes were in a mixed hue of blue, purple and pink, beautiful and unique like how they said Lemurians would be.

Every mole on his face and body was being observed from your lenses, you could tell how nervous he became from having your lecherous gaze on him, you could feel his breath against the top of your head as he avoided making eye contact with you.

Feeling impatient, you used your finger to hook onto the jewellery on his neck, giving him a small tug as you walked him towards your bedroom like you would with a dog on a leash. Surprising him but knowing that following you instead of struggling would do him less trouble.

The entire walk down the corridor towards your room was silent, all you could hear was his bare feet making tiny pitter-patter noises as your heels clicked in a rush, your mind was bent on one thing only this evening.

To tame this Lemurian as your own.

Before you could notice the smirk on your face, you threw the male onto your bed, watching him gasp in shock from the sudden impact, his eyes immediately locking into yours as you had both your hands on the sides of his head, pinning him with nowhere else to look but you.

"I've been waiting for a Lemurian to fall onto my hand for a while now..." You spoke in a hushed voice, laced with a hint of arousal. Whoever put him in this outfit was going to be rewarded handsomely.

"I heard the creatures of the sea possess beautiful voices, won't you entertain me?"

As you asked him the question, you could see him frown before turning his head away from your gaze in an attempt to protest your request. It seems that he was playing hard to get.

"Well, I do like it when they put up a little fight" You let out a wicked laugh, watching his face look nervous once more. Maybe he could tell you were a bit crazy through the look in your eyes.

However, you weren't interested in playing with a toy that wasn't working. So you decided to throw your body down to lie next to the violet-haired male, heaving out a sigh as you stretch your arms. Your actions make the individual beside you flinch and stare at you in confusion.

"If you don't plan on speaking, then you will never be free from this place," You told him, your eyes shut with your arms resting at the back of your head, legs crossed creating a position of an unfeminine and careless manner.

"I was born in this very palace, and I will die here without a single ounce of freedom"

Curious to know if he was listening, you opened your eyes to gaze at him once more, he had already been sat up, facing you with a distrustful look, but still interested in what you had to say.

"If you don't believe me, think about how empty the palace is. How there isn't a single man, and why I need these messengers to find me another man every week" You watched his face soften, and while what you were saying could be true, most of it was to get him to open up to you.

A cruel princess you may be.

You weren't lying when you said you were lonely. But hinting to him that you let the men that came to your chambers off to "save" them was definitely a lie. You just didn't find them entertaining after a week.

"You will be no difference. After a week you can go back to your home, and I will find another man to bring into my chambers"

You switched your position to laying onto your stomach, hand resting under your chin as your other hand went to poke the Lemurian's stomach, tracing his abs.

"...If you agree, speak your name" You didn't bother to look at his face as you had a smile imprinted on your face, finding entertainment in tracing nonexistent patterns on his muscular body.

It took a silence so deep you could hear your own breath, waiting for a reply from the male. But after a few more seconds, you concluded that he just wasn't interested in what you had to offer, so you took your hand off his body, pushing yourself up.

"Rafayel"

You froze, hands resting on the bed as your head snapped to look at the Lemurian's face, you observed the look on his face. He seemed calm and willing this time, seeing him look so obedient had you grinning, your eyes squinting by how big you were smiling as you pushed your face forward to his.

"No takebacks" You pressed your lips into his, feeling him gasp in your mouth, however, he didn't protest, letting you kiss him so rough that you had him lie back down on the bed as your body hovered over his once more.

Right when you were getting into the mood, you pulled away from his lips, clicking your tongue in annoyance while Rafayel panted from how intense your kissing was. Rafayel's hands were right on your belly, the cold hard metal that was holding his hands in place was making you uncomfortable.

"I'll uncuff you. That is if you can promise me you'll be good"

The Lemurian didn't seem responsive, instead, he was just panting restlessly, partly to catch his breath or to regain his composure. Not noticing how lewd his face looked and that the pupils in his eyes turned to slits. You took his silence as an agreement to what you said and brought the cuffs to your face.

It seemed like it didn't need a key to unlock. Instead, it had a switch similar to what bracelets have. You pressed on the poking metal and watched the cuff on his right hand unlock, falling loosely as you did the same with his left.

You carelessly threw the metal cuffs to the ground, not caring what would happen to it. Right when you were going to resume what you've been longing to do for a while, you felt two hands grip your wrists before tossing you onto the bed, switching positions of you and Rafayel.

"Ugh!" You grunted at the impact. Eyes locked in with Rafayel's, which went from an innocent, obedient look to a look that held something similar to that of an untamed dog. Unruly, and incapable of self-control.

Not wanting to back down from simply being pinned down, you smirked at Rafayel. Cocking your head upwards with a scoff, watching the Lemurian's eyes glow in a blue similar to the ocean. Before he could proceed with whatever he was planning on doing, you cut in.

"If you plan to get a strike and run away, it won't end well for you" You warned, making it clear that you weren't phased by him.

"It will start with the entire Empire distraught about what happened to their princess. Then every man and woman alike will go through every end of the world to find the messengers of their respective Empire or Kingdom that sent you to me. War will break out" You felt the grip on your wrists tighten, but you didn't bother to stop.

"And then they will aim for your people. No Lemurian in the sea will be left alive, they will skin your tails, gouge your pretty eyes, rip your scales off, and every bone of yours will be taken care of" Your eyes darkened as you watched Rafayel's face grow angrier.

"Every. Single. One"

You felt him release his grip on one of your hands, lifting up his own to create a ball of fire in an attempt to burn you right on the spot. Your provoking was so intense it had a man of the sea create fire. What a spectacle this man was.

Seeing as how you were in awe, he paused from throwing the fire at you. Waiting to see what else you would do. You happily gave him the expectation he needed.

You slowly sat up to not provoke him any further, before using the hand that was free to touch his right cheek. Thumb brushed over the mole as he stared at you with wide eyes, confused as to what you were doing now.

"Don't worry. Those things can't happen if I'm alive. I'm the princess of the most influential and powerful Empire there is here. Kings and Queens all over the world send me their sons so that they could be on good terms with us" You assured him, caressing his cheek as you would with a lover.

"As long as you're mine, no one will harm you"

Hearing you calmly whisper, Rafayel took a second before extinguishing the fire in his palm, then placing his hand to press against the bed sheets. The blue glow in his eye had also disappeared, which signalled you that he was now approachable.

"...We could even create a treaty between humans and Lemurians" You initiated, gently grabbing his hand and using it to trace it towards your stomach.

"Right...here..."

Pregnancy. You were insisting on having a child with a Lemurian man. You could see the utter shock on Rafayel's face. He looked at you as if you were crazy, but your people don't call you a tyrant for nothing. Because the look on your eyes showed that you had not a drop of humanity in you.

Without noticing it, Rafayel looked at you with pity.

"If I give you what I want, you will set me free" Your ears perked at the voice of the Lemurian man. How nice would his moans be if you had him inside you at this instant.

But he was a whole other species. A race with animalistic features. So you had to play it slow and steady. Luring in the snake before cutting off its fangs.

"Of course"

Now the one who was pushing their lips onto the other was Rafayel. You gladly let him take the initiative, since usually you would have to do all the work, so it would be nice to have a change of pace in things.

His style of kissing was similar to that of a lover. He didn't let his nervousness or hesitance show in his actions. Instead, he was determined, hungry even. Yet so gentle and experienced. Perhaps he's done it before with other women.

If that's the case, then it saves you the trouble of having to teach another man from scratch.

You guided his hand that was on your stomach lower to where your expensively embroidered pants were. Using his big, veiny hand to rub onto your lower region. Making him open his eyes and look down when he felt how warm and wet you were.

Without asking, he slipped his hand into your pants, feeling your pussy bare, covered completely in your juices making it easier for him to play with it.

You felt his fingers tease around your hole, rubbing up and down to gather your slick lubricant for his fingers before sticking them inside easily. Making you let out a moan that released you off your starvation to be touched, you removed your lips from his to give yourself better access to moan.

"A-Ah yes! Just like that" You gripped his wrist harder, guiding him to press all the right spots. Suddenly feeling the need to make a joke at the same time.

"Mmph! How lucky the other ladies are to have a piece of you before me, huh?" You let out a messy laugh, letting out another moan when you felt him press a particular spot harder.

"Stop talking" He warned, however seeing him frown at you made you want to coo at how innocent he looked, like a child that had his candy stolen from him.

"Then make me" You wrapped your hand around his neck and pressed his lips against yours for the third time.

You relish in the taste of his soft lips on yours, part of you wishes he would use those lips and work on your body instead of his hands, but you don't want to rush art in its process.

While you had your hole thrust in and out by Rafayel's fingers, you used your free hands to brush onto his body, feeling every bump of his perfectly sculpted abs on your fingers, if you weren't so preoccupied with his fingers inside, you would have smirked at how you could feel him lose composure from a simple touch.

Soon enough you felt like his fingers weren't enough for you. So you decided to take back the initiative and grab him by his arms, promptly pushing him onto the bed and crawling up to move your hips forward, your pants lowering down in the process.

Now his eyes were facing your soaking wet pussy, slightly throbbing from the loss of his slender fingers inside you. Rafayel stared at the leaking hole for a few seconds before averting his eyes to look up at you. To which you greeted his lost look with a large grin, nothing but pure arousal in your face.

"Go on"

You egged the Lemurian man on, he didn't seem to hesitate when his eyes went back to looking down at your pussy, and then he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out, licking up the juices that were spilling out of you, neglecting your swollen clit so far.

A satisfied moan escapes your lips. The same lips that you had praised for being so soft and lewd were now suckling and licking up all your pussy had to offer, like he was cleaning up all the marks left by the other men you had slept with.

"Y-Yes...Good boy..." You bit your lower lip, running your fingers through his violet-coloured hair to guide his lips further to the perfect spots of your pussy. His nose slightly brushed against your clit.

It seemed that the tiny praise you gave to the Lemurian made him more excited than you thought because right when you praised him, you felt two large hands grope your asscheeks, pulling you forward to Rafayel's mouth, his lips latching onto your neglected clit at the same time.

You couldn't help but let out a noise of shock and pleasure, the sudden warmth and aggression in his tongue caught you off guard as all you could do was hold onto the headboard of the bed and have your legs twitch from every continuous lick he was giving to your pussy.

With the pace he had, it didn't take long before you felt yourself slowly inching closer to your orgasm. You couldn't even let out a noise to indicate that you were close because of how needy you were, it was like finally having a gulp of water after spending days in a desert.

"A-Argh- Fuck!" You groaned.

Like an instinct, you pushed his face closer to your pussy as if it weren't already close enough. Probably having his teeth touch your skin but you couldn't tell, you were too busy using Rafayel's face like how you would use a pillow at night.

You were so busy riding out your own release that you didn't even notice how the Lemurian man's eyes rolled back from the sudden pressure of his face being used for your own satisfaction, the arousing smell of your juices wouldn't go wasted as he would attempt to gulp down every single drop. Seriously, where did he learn to do all this?

Without care, you threw his head back onto the pillow before cupping his face and bombarding it with kisses, aiming from his cheek to his neck, planting kiss marks from your lipstick and leaving a few hickeys behind. Tarnishing his clean body with your bite marks.

"So gorgeous.." Another praise left your mouth.

Once you were proud of the work you left on his body, you pulled off your pants completely. Making sure Rafayel's eyes never left yours as you did so, throwing them away somewhere at the corner of the room before you pulled down the navy blue embroidered pants he had on as well, before turning your back on him and rubbing your wet cunt all over his rock hard cock.

"Little Lemuria's quite excited, huh?" You teased, watching his dazed expression never change. He was definitely out of it.

You made sure all the saliva and juices on your pussy coated his dick completely, you could tell he was getting impatient from how his leg would hold itself back from hiking up each time you rubbed your soft cunt onto his shaft, but you weren't looking forward in rushing such a valuable moment.

When you felt like you got his cock wet enough, you held his dick with your palm, feeling your own cum slipping through your fingers as you slowly pushed it inside of you, letting out a large sigh of relief when you finally got to feel something large and veiny as his cock.

Without wasting another second you moved your hips back and forth, letting his cock hit you from every spot you had inside, and also giving him a good view of your ass as you continued to tease him with the way you rocked your hips.

Right when you made him believe you were just going to rock on his dick, you lifted your hips up and slammed yourself down, earning a loud moan from both you and him. The sudden action shocked Rafayel to the point his hands reached up to grab your waist while you continued to ram his dick deep inside you.

"Mmph! Yes! Right there!"

The pace you created from simply hopping up and down his dick became too intense that Rafayel couldn't keep up anymore. His eyes would fail to gain focus once you brought him closer to his release through the teasing you did earlier. Not hiding the moans that followed the closer you got to your orgasm.

"U-Ugh! A-Almost!"

You clenched your pussy while letting out a loud moan, the impact he had on your hole was far stronger than your impact on his dick since you clearly cared about reaching your own orgasm first. To which you did a few seconds before Rafayel could cum as well.

While you were trying to keep yourself up after completely raw dogging yourself onto his cock, you let out a gasp when you felt your body being pushed forward, your arms being held behind your back as you felt a harsh thrust snap to hips and a deep press inside your cervix.

A loud guttural moan left your mouth as you were forced into a position where the Lemurian man had his way with you, you couldn't see his face, but you could tell by the way he was holding back his growls that he was chasing after the orgasm you denied him from achieving.

You wanted to tell him to slow down, but you couldn't as all your energy was lost from the first two orgasms you had, all you could do was moan desperately while you continued to feel Rafayel's cock gushing in and out of your hole that twitched uncontrollably.

Thanks to you being sensitive, the clamps your pussy made on Rafayel's dick made him reach his high quicker than anticipated. He gives his few final thrusts by pushing your hips so far that your stomach and face are now pressing onto the sheets, you are about to reach your third orgasm.

You hear Rafayel moan in relief as he completely filled your hole up with his cum. Feeling the warm substance gush out of your hole and run down your legs as you came on his dick once more. Eyes roll to the back of your head, leading to nothing but pitch blackness on your sight.

When you two were finally satisfied, all you could hear was the heavy breathing that came out from both your mouths. You couldn't move your body anymore, all you could do was lie on the bed with your ass facing Rafayel, you might as well sleep at that moment.

And sleep you did.

The last thing you felt was the warm embrace of the Lemurian man, you didn't expect him to be so gentlemanly, taking care of you while you were unconscious. He would make it harder for you to let him go.

But to your surprise, he was already gone the moment you woke up.

At first, you were frantic. Threatening to kill everyone in the palace if they didn't tell you his whereabouts, but it seemed that the little fish was quite sneaky, as everyone reported to have never seen him.

Eventually, you gave up. The only one time you finally found something interesting and exhilarating in your mundane life sat right at your palm, and you let it get away.

Moving on was easy, but your body no longer wanted to feel the touch of another man. Every day the maids and messengers would present you with a line of gorgeous men, but you barely even spared a glance, the only thing imprinted in your brain was that god darned Lemurian.

A week would have already passed since then. And you would find yourself laying on the same bed he was on with you, bored out of your mind.

"Stupid Lemurian. Bewitching me" You cursed, tossing a grape at the wall, watching it bounce off and fall onto the floor.

You were bent on revenge. If you ever see him again, you are going to turn him into your slave, that is for sure.

"I hope I won't be turned into seafood if I let your highness come with me"

Immediately, you sat up in shock. Not noticing you had almost crushed the grape in your hand when you heard a familiar voice. Your head snapped to look at your bedroom window, and there stood a familiar man with violent-coloured hair and purple-hued eyes.

"You..." You muttered. Eyes frantically observing his new look. He had a gorgeous attire of blues, and his skin was covered in these symbolic marks.

You watched him have a serious look on his face, arms crossed as he eyed the grape you had in your hand. Curious about what you were so determined to throw at your walls.

"That's wasting food, princess" Compared to the man he was before, he sounded more cocky and mighty. Almost like a king.

You tried to find the words to retort at him. But all you could do was gaze at him in awe, the beauty he held must have increased tenfold from this past week, so this was what he would truly look like in Lemuria.

Snapping yourself out of the daze you were in, you stood up and ran towards him, finger-pointing at his chest as you furrowed your eyebrows and faced him.

"You bewitched me! And to add on, you had the gall to leave me after bedding me! You sly fish!" You yelled, finger poking a hole into his chest as he let out a chuckle.

"Oh! Funny is it?" You spat, watching his eyes trace itself to grab your arm that was poking him, you still had the grape in your hand.

Rafayel slowly kissed your arm, then brought his face to your hand. Where he took the grape in his lips and ate it whole, chewing the fruit inside his mouth and gulping it in front of you, then planting a kiss onto your hand.

The entire gesture left you speechless. Now you were definitely convinced that this man was trying to bewitch you. Your mind circled in thoughts on how dare he touch you so casually that you didn't notice how red your face was.

"Come with me, princess" He offered, eyes staring into yours.

"..." You didn't question him. Because you knew fully well that you would do wonders to leave the place. But you knew you couldn't, especially when you've done so countless of times.

"I can't. They'll find me and kill you. It's not worth the risk" You reasoned, eyes darkening with disappointment in your own words.

"I'd like to see them try and kill the God of Tides" He laughed at your words, to which you frowned in confusion.

"What does the God of Tides have anything to do with you?" Not realizing how stupid your question sounded, you watched as Rafayel looked at you with an arched eyebrow and a tiny smirk.

"...No way" Your eyes widened before moving your head up and down to take a good look at his attire once more.

Rafayel wasn't just some Lemurian lost on land. He was a Sea God.

"Goodness," You blurted out, watching Rafayel laugh at your reaction, to which you responded by blushing in embarrassment.

"Does this change things for us now?" He asked in between his laughs, to which you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I suppose"

You felt his arm wrap around your waist, bringing you close to him as you gasped, surprised by his bold gesture. When you looked up at him he had a fulfilling smile on his face.

Next thing you knew waves of water surrounded the two of you, maybe this time you could truly escape this boring place for good.

"Hey, Rafayel. Why did you come back for me?"

"Well, a lonely princess asked me to let her conceive my child. The kinder option would be to show her where I grew up, wouldn't it?"

"...Yeah..."

-

"Did you hear? The princess has escaped the palace once more"

"That's nothing new, is it?"

"Oh, but it is. I heard this time she escaped with a lover!"

"A lover?! That tyrant?!"

"Whoever that gentleman is, he must be crazy to elope with her"

"You said it"

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A/N: so like... clearly a lot of themes were running through my mind. maybe this isn't concubine! rafayel as promised BUT THE THEME IS THERE SO EAT YOUR FOOD LIKE THE GOOD CHILDREN YOU ARE (picky eaters are not welcomed, says the picky eater herself)

anyways incubus! rafayel is next, probably in a week or two who knows. after this, I will work on some zayne or xavier oneshots as well :)

OH AND CAN I SAY I WANNA OPEN COMMISSIONS SO BAD???? like maybe not for my art, but definitely for my writing. only when i hit 1k followers will I do that though so stay tuned!

here are the outfits mentioned in the oneshot for better imagination 💪✨️

[superbellsubways]

robor lore time

Showbitz and Heartbreaker stuff (+ a bit of their creator) ↓

Lets start off with their creator (🙄) Their creator is a young, sad, lonely man named Dennis who spends most of his time indoors working on his own projects and lounging about. He had originally gone to school to become a doctor but instead took more interest in robotics. After graduation, he found a place and experimented with his newfound passion. Bitz would be the first of his bots to be considered a success.

as mentioned in the reference, Bitz was built with the purpose of dealing with heavyweight items and disposing of useless things/trash (crushing with his teeth). During his free time (when not having any orders given to him) he would watch tv or browse the Internet. He learned about the outside world and everything it had to offer this way, and soon he realized he wanted to see it for himself. However, his creator would not allow this in fear that he would get damaged or cause harm in some way. But of course, this wouldn't stop him from trying!

At some point, Dennis ends up building a housekeeper bot to help keep the place tidy and such. Soon enough she and Bitz became acquainted with eachother, and would hang out with eachother more and more on their breaks 😁 with Bitz showing her his favorite things to watch and look at.

Ok ok Fast forward a bit. The two bots both decide they want to run away to see the outside world. They pack up some supplies (including money they had stolen from Dennis lol) and find a way to leave while he was out for errands, it was the perfect opportunity!. They trainhop a few times till they finally reach close to the big city (very far from their home).

Here, they would try their best to figure themselves out and what they want to do (along with trying to get a roof over their heads of course). Days pass and their hopes start to dwindle, until suddenly out of the blue, they get asked to be apart of an ongoing tv show, and immediately take up the offer as long as it provided them with a safe place to stay. Bitz would end up becoming the new host for a popular game show (the show having a robot host as it's main gimmick) with the housekeeper bot (now known as Heartbreaker) as his assistant.

Now, you must be wondering "wow Mari this doesn't really explain why Bitz is the way he is now!" "Why is he passive aggressive nowadays?" "Does Bitz kill people" bear with me Ok.

At some point early into his career he ends up having his trust broken by a Certain Someone. This ordeal causes him to snap and hold a huge grudge towards them. Overtime he would start experiencing hatred for literally anyone he finds even the slightest bit of irritating, including a few of his own contestants or audience members (essentially he becomes corrupt, a Huge Hater, and develops anger issues LOL. You know the "are you tired of being nice don't you just want to go ape shit" meme yea thats basically what's happening).

One day he thought to himself "well why don't I just get rid of these people?" (which would be just. ya know. killing them. crazy i know. but at this point he really doesn't care!). He uses Heartbreaker to do the dirty work for him (hunting them down hitman style) while they're not on the air. She does not mind doing the job, as she does not feel much empathy towards people she doesn't know personally Especially humans (not to mention she also knows how to clean up once its done haha).

Anyways the fame from his show starts getting to Bitz's dumb robot head, which leads to him becoming more egotistical, to the point where he's practically obsessed with himself! He wants everyone to focus on him and him only, it's what he craves most. He would do anything to be the center of attention.

and that's kinda all I have left to say for now. I do plan to draw a few things I purposely left out + things i mentioned here in the future. I also want to make another post about the other bots at some point. Kudos to anyone that was cool enough to read through this dumb thing. thanks

[hbyrde36]

Times Like These (The Anniversary Edition)

CH 1 CH 2 Ch 3

Chapter 4: Best Laid Plans

WC: 5803 | AO3 link

Eddie stood awkwardly by the closed door once they were back inside Steve’s bedroom, trying his best to give himself a pep talk and not freak out over what was about to happen. He had briefly considered bolting before he embarrassed himself, but he knew Steve would only come after him, given how the whole buddy system thing was his idea. 

Steve, thankfully, seemed none the wiser about Eddie’s latest internal panic. Or, at least if he was picking up on the tension Eddie was sure he was projecting, he probably attributed it to everything else that was going on. A silver lining if there was one.  

“Here, I know it’s not exactly your style but it’s better than sleeping in jeans.” Steve said, turning back around from where he was rifling through his dresser drawers and offered Eddie a bundle of clothes. “Go ahead and take your turn in the bathroom first, there's spare toothbrushes and stuff in the drawers, towels in the closet. Use whatever you want.”

“Thanks.” Eddie said, looking very purposely at the floor as he stepped around Steve, who was already reaching for the hem of his own shirt, and hurried into the attached bathroom. 

He turned and caught an eyeful of Steve’s bare back as he closed the door, slamming it by accident in his rush to get a barrier between them before he could see any more.

“He’s trying to fucking kill me I swear to god,” Eddie mumbled to himself as he staggered over to the vanity, dumping the small pile of clothes on it’s surface and leaning hard against it. 

It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before, but context is key, and seeing Steve Harrington shirtless in his bedroom when they were about to sleep in the same bed together, was a hell of a lot different than seeing it on a boat out on the lake or in the Upside Down when they were all fighting for their lives.

Eddie eyed up the shower, tired enough that he thought about skipping it. He wasn’t actually that dirty. Though in his mind he’d gone weeks without so much as looking at a bar of soap, a perk to the whole time loop thing being that, no matter how filthy or covered in blood he was at the end, when it started over he was back in a body yet to be soiled and ravaged by the Upside Down.

Still, he could feel the phantom grime clinging to his body like a second skin, and decided even if he didn’t need it, it might make him feel better. 

He hung his jacket and battle vest on the back of the door and reached into the shower to get the water going, stripping out of the rest of his clothes and leaving them in a heap in the corner. His shirt was covered in blood from his broken nose anyway.

The hot spray was wonderful and he could feel some of the tension leaving his body almost immediately as he let it run over his neck and back. They didn’t get this kind of water pressure in the trailer and Eddie let himself revel in it a little, taking all the time in the world to wash and condition his hair with Steve’s fancy products and letting his mind go blissfully blank for a while. 

He dried off quickly, squeezing as much water as possible out of his curls before getting dressed. 

A wry chuckle passed his lips as he finally looked at the clothes Steve had given him. The sweatpants were fine, a plain generic gray pair that were soft with wear and too many washings, the problem was the shirt. One look at it had a deep blush spreading across Eddie’s cheeks, and a warmth pooling in his belly. 

It was an old swim team t-shirt from back when Steve was co-captain. At first glance, nothing special. The front of it was printed with the familiar Hawkins High logo, but the back? Oh, the back of the shirt, in big bold block lettering read, HARRINGTON.

Jesus Christ, how was he going to be normal about any of this.

He shook his head one last time and tugged the shirt on so at least he wouldn't have to look at it anymore, finally leaving the bathroom in a puff of steam and very carefully did not think about how he was wearing Steve's name across his shoulder blades like a brand. 

There was no way he’d given it to him on purpose. It was purely accidental–the first shirt he’d put his hands on surely–but god help him, did Eddie wish it had been.

Steve was laid out on his bed, eyes half closed while he flicked lazily through an old car magazine.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to take so long.“ Eddie said, standing in the middle of the room wringing his hands and having absolutely no idea what to do with himself. 

“Eddie?” Steve said. 

Eddie stilled. “Yeah?” 

“Relax.”

“Right.”

-

Eddie sat on the edge of the bed while Steve took his turn in the bathroom, trying to take the other boy’s words to heart and just chill the fuck out, but he couldn’t seem to manage it. He got up and paced around the room. What he needed was a distraction. Snooping could be fun, not that there was much to look at apart from the soul-crushing decor, but that was okay. Steve hadn’t turned on the shower so it wasn’t as if he had a lot of time anyway. 

He ran his fingers along the smooth top of the dresser, eyes scanning over the various photos tucked into the edge of the mirror’s frame, the one sign that an actual person inhabited the space. There was one of Steve and Nancy from what looked like last Halloween, a ton of the kids—including a few strips from a photo booth featuring him and Dustin making adorably goofy faces at each other, and one particularly intriguing polaroid of Steve in a sailor costume that doubled as his uniform when he’d worked for Scoops Ahoy at the mall. 

Sadly, Eddie had never gotten to see the fallen king in all his nautical glory in person, though he had heard plenty about it, but that was probably for the best. If Steve looked this good in a shitty photo, the real thing probably would have sent him to his knees. 

“Oh man, I hated that thing. The shorts were way too tight.” Steve said, somehow suddenly standing right behind him. Eddie hadn’t even heard him come out of the bathroom.

Fuck.

He spun around, startled. 

There was no way Steve could read his mind, right? He couldn’t know the debauched thoughts that ran through Eddie's head while he was ogling a photo of him in the practically sinful little outfit. 

Eddie’s eyes flitted around the room, grasping for anything to divert the topic of conversation towards something a little safer, and that’s when he spotted it, out of the corner of his eye—a baseball bat leaning against Steve’s nightstand with several nails driven into its top.

“Oh shit, you really do have a nail bat.” Eddie said, not even needing to fake the awe in his voice. Steve’s weapon of choice was legendary to him by now with how the kids talked about it. 

He walked over and carefully picked it up, holding it by the handle as he examined the various dings, scratches, and old blood-stains on its surface. 

Steve let out an amused chuckle. “Yeah, that thing’s my baby. I barely leave home without it. Jonathan’s actually the one who made it though, believe it or not. I took it up when we fought that first demogorgon and just sorta never gave it back.”

“So metal.” Eddie murmured.

Steve frowned suddenly, tilting his head. “Wait, are you saying you haven't seen it before? I didn’t have it with me this time?”

“I’ve heard a lot about it from the kids, but honestly? I thought they were full of shit. Sadly, it’s true,” Eddie sighed dramatically. “I never got to see her in action.” 

“Oh trust me, you’ll get your chance this time. I’ll make sure of it.”

Eddie gulped, turning to put the bat back where it belonged and also to hide the heat rising up his cheeks from the mental image that comment had conjured up.

“Hey man, so… I don’t mind taking the floor if–” Eddie began.

Right away Steve cut him off. “Dude, it’s fine. We can share. The bed’s big enough.”

Eddie was already shaking his head before Steve was even done talking. He had to draw the line somewhere. This was too much, and there was no way Steve would be offering to share his bed if he knew what Eddie was. 

“Seriously, if you've got any spare blankets that the kids haven’t already taken, or shit even just a pillow, I’ll be fine.”

“There’s plenty of room. Robin and I share all the time…” Steve trailed off, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Unless, um—If it makes you that uncomfortable. I don’t want to like, push you into anything.”

Eddie let out a heavy sigh. Shit, he hadn’t meant to make Steve feel bad. “It’s not that, it’s just…”

He thought, or rather hoped, Steve would let it go—but when he didn’t finish the thought, Steve gently asked, “what is it then? If you’re not uncomfortable."

“Oh, uh–” Eddie said, staring at his hands as he fidgeted uncontrollably with his rings.

This wasn’t quite how he'd imagined coming out to him, under the gun like this. Not that he'd ever truly considered telling Steve before, not really, but he’d maybe indulged in a fantasy or two. 

“It's the opposite, actually?” 

Eddie paused, taking a deep breath before looking back up at Steve, possibly for the last time because this was such a bad idea. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’m sure you’ve probably heard certain rumors… about me."

Steve tilted his head. “Why would that..?”

He looked genuinely puzzled, which—Eddie wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. Maybe somehow Steve hadn’t heard the whispers about him around school, or maybe he just didn’t take much stock in rumors. 

Eddie’s heart was in his throat and he had to force the words out, his voice sounding harsh in the quiet room.

“I’m gay.” 

He looked away, afraid of what he might see on Steve’s face now that he knew. 

Why did he do that? Why did he have to go and tell the truth and ruin everything?!

“Sorry, I- I don’t know why I told you that… I- I’m just gonna go sleep in my van.” He stuttered and whirled to lunge towards the door. 

Steve stopped him with a hand on his elbow. “Eddie, wait.”

Against his better judgment, Eddie did stop. He turned around to face Steve again and was immediately enveloped in a bone-crushing hug.

“Thank you for trusting me with that.” 

Eddie tensed reflexively. It was honestly the absolute last reaction he’d been expecting, but slowly, cautiously, he returned the embrace. His breath hitched, a few tears escaping the corners of his eyes when, instead of pulling back quickly, Steve only held him tighter. 

“You can relax, it’s okay, you’re safe here.” Steve said. 

Eddie finally pulled back from the hug, swiping at his eyes. Steve was studying his face, something intense in his expression that he couldn’t quite read.

“It doesn’t bother you?” Eddie asked.

“No, of course not.” Steve said easily, as if Eddie were the one acting strangely about it. “Now, come lay down and get some sleep. You look exhausted.”

Steve flipped the light switch off and went right for the bed, sliding under the covers casually, like he hadn’t just tipped Eddie’s world on its axis. 

Eddie didn’t move right away. He was still in a bit of a state of shock. He had only come out to a handful of people in his life. Wayne knew, had for a while. Hell, he was pretty sure his Uncle knew before he did. The Corroded Coffin boys knew too, they all spent too much time together not to have picked up on it at least a little, and they’d all been really good about it when he told them. 

None of this was how he would expect someone like Steve to react, likely-lesbian best friend or not—there was a difference. 

If he was honest, he’d expected disgust, or to be thrown out of the house, maybe even a punch in the face. And really, it wasn’t like they were out of the woods yet on that point. Sure Steve was saying it was okay now, but what about tomorrow morning when he woke up to find someone who was decidedly not a pretty girl in his bed, and–

“I can hear you overthinking, Munson. Just get over here already.”

–And Steve was a good guy. Eddie knew that. Maybe he wasn’t giving him enough credit for it. 

Eddie could feel himself blushing, thankful that the lights were already off so he didn't need to bother trying to hide it this time. With no excuses left and no good reason not to, he finally relented, crawling into the bed between the sheets next to the other boy. 

After a bit of awkward shifting and wriggling around, they both wound up settling on their sides, facing away from each other. 

“Hey, um, Steve?” Eddie called out, gathering the courage to speak before either of them could drift off. 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for being cool about—everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me for being a decent human being, man. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me, so, thanks.”

Big deal was an understatement. Eddie was glad they weren’t facing each other for this. He wasn't sure how many more secrets he could afford to reveal to Steve tonight, but if the other boy could have seen his face right then he would have, almost certainly, caught on to Eddie’s ridiculous, enormous, embarrassing crush, made all the worse by the fact that Steve seemed to effortlessly accept him for exactly who he was. 

“You’re welcome. Goodnight, Eddie.”

“G’night, Stevie.”

-

Eddie was alone in the bed when he woke up after one of the best night's sleeps he’d had in a very long time, and was immediately hit with a pang of disappointment that Steve was already gone. Which was silly, what reason would he have to linger? They were just two friends having a sleepover, essentially.

It was good—better this way, it kept him from having any illusions about what was really going on here.

The sound of a toilet flushing followed by the tap on a sink running drew Eddie’s attention to the closed bathroom door.

Oh. 

Apparently Steve hadn’t gone far. 

The door opened slowly with Steve all but tiptoeing out, clearly trying to be quiet until he glanced at the bed, and a smile Eddie would have called fond if he didn’t know any better spread across his face when their eyes met.  

Eddie opened his mouth to say good morning like a normal person, instead of continuing to stare, like an idiot, when a loud crash came from downstairs—quickly followed by stomping footsteps and, suspiciously, the sounds of vacuuming. 

Steve grimaced, glancing down at the carpet as if he could see through to the first floor of the house. “I’m gonna go… check on that. Don’t stay up here by yourself too long?”

Buddy system. He couldn't let himself forget that it was just because of the buddy system.

“Sure, yeah. I’ll be right down.” Eddie said. 

He should have told Steve he didn't have to worry about him. In all the loops Vecna had never come for Eddie the way he had for Chrissy, Max, or the others, unless you counted the bats of course. But he was too selfish to say it. He liked Steve worrying about him, and getting to be the person looking after him in return.

As soon as he was alone in the room Eddie let out a deep groan, rolling over to bury his face in his pillow and breathing in Steve’s scent deeply. He was surrounded by it, could still feel the other boy’s warmth on his side of the bed, and it was making him feel just a little bit crazy. 

-

Much like the night before, everyone seemed to know the drill as if breakfast at Steve’s were at least a semi-regular occurrence, and Eddie had to remind himself once again that it probably was. 

He’d seen this group work together as a unit when weapons needed to be made and lives were on the line, but this was more like—a family. Even Nancy and Mike, who had returned first thing this morning, moved around the others gathering their juice or coffee or whatever else had been put out on offer like this was a familiar routine. It had to be uncomfortable, sharing such a close bond with the same people as your ex, and Steve did seem a little tense around Nancy sometimes, but they made it work.

Eddie had never experienced anything like it. What he’d had when he was younger wasn’t what you’d call a family, his homelife nothing short of a nightmare. Things were better now. He had Wayne and they were close. They loved each other, but it was just the two of them, and these days they were rarely home at the same time now that Wayne was on the night shift. 

This is what he imagined life would have been like growing up with siblings, or even close cousins. It was nice, even if it was chaotic, and Eddie couldn’t help hoping for a time after, where he might get to be a part of all this more permanently. 

Though the kids were chomping at the bit, with the time difference they waited until 9 o’clock to try and call the Byers’ place. It would still only be 6am in California but holding off much longer felt like asking for trouble. In fact, Eddie was already wishing they had gotten it over with last night so they’d have a plan of action in place already. 

Mike wanted to be the one to call, to tell El and the Byers what was going on. It was understandable. He was the one who was supposed to be arriving there in just a few hours to see his girlfriend for the first time in months. It probably would have made more sense for Eddie to do the talking since he’d been the one to live through it all, multiple times, but he didn’t know these people, and they didn’t know him.

He’d spoken to Jonathan maybe once or twice. They both lived on what you might call the ‘wrong side of town’ and were close enough in age that it was inevitable that they’d run into each other. If asked, Eddie might have said he considered them acquaintances, but he’d never met the rest of the family before, though he could vividly recall Will’s young face from the missing person’s flyers.

Mike used the phone in the kitchen so they could all listen in, to his side anyway, and Eddie heard enough to deduce that it wasn’t only El on the line but Will, Jonathan, and Joyce were all nearby listening in too.

He did alright for the most part though Dustin did snatch the phone out of his hand more than once to add in his own two cents. Eddie just hoped it was enough to convince them to help. He’d heard stories about El—Supergirl, and though he’d been told that she didn’t have her powers anymore, he had a feeling she was the key to beating Vecna. In a way, through no fault of her own, this had all started with her. It only made sense that she would be a part of the end as well. 

Mike hung up the phone with a rare smile. “They’re coming. El had to hang up so Mrs. Byers could call the airline but she’s gonna call right back.”

Eddie breathed a tentative sigh of relief. Help was coming.

As expected, the phone rang again a few minutes later, and though it was Steve's house Mike lunged for it. 

“Hello?” He answered, pausing to listen for a moment before rolling his eyes. He made the most put-upon sound imaginable and pulled the receiver away from his face to hold it out in Steve’s direction. “Will’s mom wants to talk to you.”

Steve looked a little confused but shrugged and took the receiver. He didn’t say much, only making small noises to confirm he was listening, all the while keeping his face carefully blank as he nodded along, not looking at anyone. 

Something was up. 

Eddie finally caught Steve's eye as he hung up the phone after only a few short minutes and quirked a brow in question. Steve pressed his lips together and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, before turning to address the rest of the group.

“Alright, um, Joyce has something she needs to deal with before she can come here to help, but she was able to get Jonathan, Will, and El on a flight the day after tomorrow.”

“What?!” Mike screeched, the sentiment echoed by several other members of the party. “Why so long? And what the hell could she need to do that’s more important than the Upside Down coming back?!”

“Apparently that’s all that was available.” Steve answered, notably ignoring the question about Joyce entirely. 

“Why don't they just drive? Jonathan has a car.” Dustin pointed out.

“It’s not running right now. It would take almost as long for them to get here if they drove anyway, and that’s only if they didn’t stop.”

“Well, what the hell do we do now? We can’t just wait for them.” Erica said.

“That’s exactly what we’re gonna do.” Steve said, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Guys, this is not our first rodeo and I'm not talking about the whole time loop thing. We’re stronger when we’re together. Till then we’ll watch each other’s backs and prepare as best we can—see if we can learn anything new about this Vecna creep.”

“Fine.” Dustin said, stomping off to the other room only to come right back wielding Nancy’s notebook.

“Ok, it’s Saturday. According to the timeline, we would have found Eddie in the boathouse this morning sometime after Chrissy’s death hit the news.”

“Oh shit, Steve! We’re supposed to be at work in–” Robin trailed off, grabbing at Eddie’s wrist to read his watch. “30 minutes ago!”

Steve waved her off. “I called Keith already and told him we both had mono. He was pissed but I'm pretty sure he bought it.”

“Of course he believed you, he thinks we’re dating.” Robin said.

Steve scoffed.

“You’re not?” Chrissy asked, cheeks flushing as she seemed to realize she’d said that out loud. 

“They always say that but we’re all pretty sure they’re lying.” Lucas chimed in.

“Not you too, Sinclair.” Steve groaned. 

“Just callin’ it like I see it, Steve.”

“Anyway–” Dustin began, returning everyone's attention to him. “This is also the day Jason starts his witch hunt.”

“We shouldn’t really have to worry about him and his goons this time around, since Chrissy is okay.” Eddie pointed out the obvious, hoping Dustin would finally acknowledge him or at least look at him. 

He didn’t. 

“And the cops don’t find his body until tomorrow morning but it looks like Fred Benson also goes missing sometime tonight.”

“Do you think that will still happen now?” Nancy asked, turning to address Eddie.

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “This is the first time I've really changed things. I’m not sure how it works.”

“I think we should stock up on weapons. Now, today. So we’ll be ready no matter what happens.” Steve said.

“Agreed. They’ll be closed tomorrow since it’s Sunday and if we go now before the rest of the town knows something is going on it should be an easy in and out.” Dustin said.

Steve held up a hand. “You’re not going.”

“What?!”

“You can all go to Mike’s or something. You guys can strategize and maybe work on the whole music thing? Make a list of everyone’s favorite songs and stuff, just in case.”

“I can’t believe you’re gonna sideline us like this!”

“I'm not taking a bunch of kids into a place called The War Zone!”

“We’re not kids anymore, and according to him–” Dustin said, jabbing a finger in Eddie’s direction. “You already did!”

“Well I'm not doing it this time. It’ll draw too much attention and we wouldn’t all fit in the car anyway.”

“Whatever.” Dustin said, and stormed off outside.

Steve looked like he wanted to follow after the kid but Eddie rushed to beat him to it. “I got this one, Harrington. I’m pretty sure it’s me he’s actually mad at.”

–

He found Dustin sitting on one of the lounge chairs out by the pool facing away from the house, gaze trained on the ground. 

“You’re not missing out on much, y’know.” Eddie said softly as he walked up. “It's just a shitty army surplus store. If there's something special you want, I'll get it for you.”

He didn’t respond or even acknowledge Eddie’s presence.

“Come on, Dustin. You can be as mad at me as you want but could you at least look at me?”

The kid mumbled something so quietly that he couldn’t make it out. 

“What?”

“I’m not mad at you.” Dustin said, voice thick. “I just don't know how to look at you without thinking about how you keep dying. I mean, what if we fail again? What if we keep failing and you–”

He finally raised his head, looking up at Eddie with unshed tears swimming in his eyes. 

“Hey,” Eddie said softly, crouching down in front of him. “That’s not gonna happen, okay?”

“How can you say that?”

“Because I believe in you guys. You’ve all been through so much already and managed to make it out the other side. If anyone can figure this out, it’s you.”

“Don't talk like you're not part of all this. You know you're one of us now, right? We wouldn't even be here having this second, er, third chance if it wasn’t for you.”

Eddie wasn’t sure he deserved any credit when all he’d managed to do was die–multiple times–but the kid was finally talking to him again, so he wasn't going to argue about it. 

“Okay, fine—we. We’ll figure this out. It’s gonna be okay, man.” 

“Promise me you won’t die again?” Dustin said, suddenly sounding so much younger than he was. 

Eddie didn’t want to make promises he couldn’t keep, but as he sat there looking into Dustin’s eyes it was the only thing he could say. 

“Yeah, buddy. I promise.”

-

Nancy drove all the kids back to her house while the rest of them got ready to go. She had offered to run Chrissy home as well so she could check in with her parents and get some clean clothes, but she was reluctant to go. 

Thankfully, Robin apparently spent enough time at Steve’s house that half her wardrobe was stored in his guest room closet and she was more than willing to share.  

“Shit, I forgot, my shirt from last night is still covered in blood.” Eddie said as the two girls disappeared upstairs. 

“You can borrow from me again… if you want.” Steve offered. “I don't mind.”

Eddie had his van, and with Chrissy being alive and well there was nothing stopping him from going home, not really. He would do just about anything to see Wayne again but what if Eddie’s presence somehow put him in danger?

“Yeah, um thanks. I’d go home but I don't really want to drag my uncle into this if I can avoid it.”

“No problem.” Steve said. “Y’know, you could always call him. Let him know you’re okay so he doesn’t worry?”

Eddie blinked at him, feeling like a total idiot, his throat suddenly tight at the thought of actually hearing Uncle Wayne’s voice again. “I- I hadn’t even thought about that.”

Steve reached over and gripped his upper arm, squeezing. “Go ahead and use the phone, I’ll find us some clothes.

Eddie hadn’t been sure Wayne would even answer the phone, he was usually asleep this time of day, but apparently when the older man had returned to an empty house this morning he’d been worried enough to keep the phone nearby as he slept, in case Eddie did call. 

He kept it brief, making up a story about getting together with the guys to jam after Hellfire and feeling too tired to drive home safely after. He also told Wayne not to expect him home much through the rest of the school break. What with all the extra free time, he and the guys figured they could double up on band practices. He was pretty sure his uncle wouldn't question any of it, and he didn’t, though he had sounded a little concerned when Eddie ended the call by saying I love you— just in case. It wasn’t like his uncle didn’t know he cared, they just didn’t make a habit of saying the actual words too often. 

-

Steve graciously provided Eddie with his darkest pair of blue jeans and a plain black t-shirt, something he suspected the other boy used solely as an undershirt, but it was perfect, and much better than any of the polos he was afraid Steve would try to make him wear. As much as he secretly liked the idea of wearing the other boy's clothes, he couldn’t imagine being caught in one of those abominations out in public. 

When Nancy finally returned, the five of them piled into her station wagon, the more practical choice since it had more trunk space than Steve's BMW and didn’t stick out like a sore thumb the way Eddie’s van did, and made their way to The War Zone. 

It was busy even for the weekend, but it wasn’t teeming with the panicked masses the way Eddie remembered. Nancy had drawn up a list of necessities and they split it up between them, divide and conquer and all that, and as predicted it was pretty much smooth sailing from the time they entered the store until they met up at checkout.

Once they were back at Steve’s house and had finished unloading the crates of supplies into the garage, including several very full gas cans and a brand new shotgun, Nancy turned to the rest of them with a determined look on her face

“I’ve been thinking about it all day and I’m gonna go find Fred.”

“What are you going to tell him?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know yet, but I can’t do nothing, not if there’s a chance he’s still in trouble.” 

“You’re right, we should try to help him.”

“No Steve, that’s…” She shook her head. “I'll be okay on my own.”

For a split second Steve looked hurt by the dismissal but quickly shook it off. “No. No one goes it alone, not this time. I don't care who it is but at least take one of us with you.”

“I’ll go,” Chrissy offered. “I know Fred. We’re not exactly close, not since high school, but our parents have been friends for years so I know where he lives.”

“Okay, yeah. Thanks.”

Eddie almost didn't say anything. He was happy to see Chrissy getting more comfortable with everyone. He loved that she was willing to help, and maybe it was stupid, but he felt responsible for her, and didn’t like the idea of her being so far out of his sight.  

“You sure about this, Chris?” He said, pulling his lower lip between his teeth.

“Yeah I’ll be okay. I’ll keep my music on, promise.” She said, giving him a reassuring smile before following Nancy back to the car. 

-

It was quiet in the house now that it was just the three of them. Steve was walking around with slumped shoulders and hadn’t said much since Nancy refused his help. It served as a stark reminder that Steve might not be as over her as he was always claiming to be.

“I need a smoke.” Eddie said abruptly, when the silence got to be too much, leaving Steve and Robin staring after him with concern as he escaped the kitchen to go outside. 

He plopped down in the same chair Dustin had occupied earlier and tapped a cigarette out of his half-full pack. He knew he was being stupid. He shouldn’t care. He had absolutely no right to feel jealous, and yet–

He laughed to himself, thinking about how he’d once made an ill-advised attempt at pushing Steve back into Nancy's arms himself. It had just been so clear to him at the time that there was still a lot between them, even if she was with Jonathan now. But lately he’d started to think, or maybe hope was the more accurate word, that he'd been wrong.

Not that it mattered, he reminded himself. Steve was straight. If it wasn’t Nancy it would be some other girl. Eddie just needed to make peace with the fact that they were only ever going to be friends, and he had, mostly, this reaction was just a temporary lapse in sanity. 

By the time he finished his smoke his head felt a little clearer, and he headed back inside determined to be a good friend and cheer Steve up. None of them had eaten since this morning, so he decided that was the first order of business. Food was always good for morale, and maybe they could watch a movie to kill some time until Nancy and Chrissy got back. 

-

He was surprised to find Steve alone in the kitchen. 

“Hey Steve, I was thinking–” Eddie began, cutting himself off when he realized Steve was standing there, unmoving, staring at nothing. 

No.

No-no-no, this couldn’t be happening.

“Steve?” Eddie waved his hand in front of the other boy’s face. 

When he got zero reaction he screamed for Robin at the top of his lungs.

“Robin!” 

He didn’t know where in the house she’d run off to but he could not risk leaving Steve’s side to find her. 

“Robin! I need your help!” He shouted again.

She raced into the room and skidded to a stop at his side, her eyes going wide with panic when she saw Steve standing there frozen. 

“Oh my god,” She gasped. “Is he… ?”

Eddie gripped her hard by both shoulders. “Buckley, please tell me you know his favorite song.”

Chapter 5

Special thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

Reblogs are always appreciated and if you want to be tagged, just let me know! I'd be more than happy to do so 💜

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[sagencelestient]

Hairdresser s/o!

Characters: Scaramouche (not Wanderer), and Albedo (Separate)

Genre: Fluff!

Warnings: annoying customers (smh)

Scaramouche

You were tired after a long day of work, and it was almost after your shift. It wasn't a great day per-se, there were more difficult customers than usual. Not only this, but a bunch of the staff called in sick, so it was just you and two other co-workers there. Luckily, the day was just about to end. There were only a few more minutes. You really couldn't wait to get back home, and back to your lovely boyfriend, Scaramouche's arms. You felt kind of burnt out right now, and you knew being with him would help you out a lot.

However, your excitement to go home was soon snuffed out, like an extinguished flame, by the sound of the door opening. It was another customer. You and your co-workers' heads turned as they entered, demanding that their hair be styled, cut, and dyed while getting furious after you told them that the shop was just about to close. No matter what you told said customer, they just wouldn't leave.

"Why don't we just play rock paper scissors?" One of your co-workers, named Childe, suggested, "I mean, I really have to go right now, so... we should just let one person take one for the team!"

And of course, you were that person. You sighed, as you start to think of things to say to this difficult customer to make them leave. Unluckily for you, you couldn't think of anything that would convince someone like them.

However, right as you were about to give up and try to push them out the door or something, a familiar man pushed the door open like he owned the establishment.

"Y/n?" he asked, "do you still have clients? The salon was supposed to close 5 minutes ago, you know."

It was Scaramouche, the boyfriend you couldn't wait to get back home to! But why was he here?

"Hm? Scara? Uh, well, this client over here..."

At that point, said client interrupted.

"You said closed?! Well, look here! Someone else that you seem willing to service! My Hoyobook page WILL hear about this, you hear me?!"

"I- uh, ma'am-" you stutter, trying to get her to calm down.

"Uh, ma'am?!" the client basically screamed, "honestly! you can't even form a proper sentence! What does that mean?! Just for this interaction alone, I demand a 30% discount!"

"What y/n means, is that if you don't get out of here, right fucking now, some haircut wouldn't even be a worry of yours very shortly. You can stay around if you'd like to see why, though." Scaramouche threatened, giving the customer a death stare.

"I- Your manager will hear about this!" the customer screamed, before taking off running.

"Oh, um, T- thanks, Scara!" you say, greatly relieved that that person was gone. You look at your savior, your boyfriend. He really did look hot right now.

"Jeez, she couldn't even take a few threats... what a waste of space," muttered Scaramouche under his breath.

"Anyways! Why are you here?" you question, changing the topic. After all, he usually didn't come to visit after work.

"I just wanted to come to see you right after work. You should be thankful, honestly. And don't worry, what I said won't get you fired, not that you even need a job to begin with..." Scaramouche muttered.

"Aww!" you squeal, hearing that and running into his arms, giving him a hug and a few kisses, "you really are so sweet!"

"..."

"Okay then, let's go home!" you cheer. Even just seeing Scaramouche lifted your spirits, and it seemed to do the same for him.

While you two walk home, you joke about how you should also visit him at his workplace sometime. You were obviously not going to do it, as he has explicitly told you that it wasn't that safe, obviously, being in a place where not many like him, and being in a place where pretty much everyone has weapons and such. However, you still did want to visit his office. Maybe someday you could convince him!

After about 10 minutes, you reach your shared house and pop open the door with the key. You then walk over to the couch and collapse onto it.

"Come lay down with me, Scara!" you call out.

He sighed. "Fine, just for a bit though."

He moved onto the couch, and then you moved on top of him, laying on his chest. He really was super cute when he got soft, and you were the only one to see this side of him! It made you feel special. Oh, how lucky you were to have him! You sneak a kiss onto his cheek and lie back down, and soon, fall asleep.

And even though Scaramouche said he would only lie with you for "just a bit", you two ended up falling asleep together on the couch for the rest of the day. In all truth, he didn't fall asleep by accident, he just didn't want to disturb you from your slumber by moving, and ended up falling asleep. But he'd take that secret to the grave.

Albedo

You owned a small hair salon in Mondsdat, and actually, one of the only ones there, which meant you had many customers every day. You loved your job, but it was getting more and more tiring day by day. Not only this, but your salon got a sudden influx in popularity, which meant you didn't really have enough employees to meet everyone's needs. Cutting people's hair, whilst searching for employees, and running the store was really becoming tiring, and you knew you just needed a break. You also knew who else needed one.

"Hey, Bedo!" you say, entering his office.

He looked up, smiling as he saw you. "Yes, y/n?" he asked.

"Weell..." you said, "we're both really busy, right? So I thought we could go on a vacation for a bit! Just me and you! I think we both need it, and we also can get to spend more time together!"

"Oh... well, I suppose a little break wouldn't hurt," Albedo answered, "I just need to tell Jean, and I'll probably be able to go. Do you have anywhere planned?"

"Well," you say, moving to sit on his lap, and giving him a kiss, "not really! We should pick a destination together!"

"Alright then. Let's look for somewhere good after I'm done work, alright?" he asked, holding him in your arms and giving you a kiss back.

"Okay!" you smile, excited about where you were going to go. After all, it wasn't often that you two got much quality time together, and the vacation would be where you could cuddle with him all day and pepper him with kisses. You were already thinking of places you two could go as you walked out of his office. "See you at home, Bedo!"

END!

--------

Haha, can you tell who the favorite is? Can you? Can you?

-Celestient

(sorry the Albedo part is so short I just... well I have no excuses)

[promptsconceptsandideas]

Fun idea i keep running around my head and can't figure out if I'm just being creative or if this is a sign of something. /Silly /sys

Anyways

AU IDEA (Kind of ended up coming from me playing the Swooning over Stans game)

SORRY THERES SO MUCH TEXT!!

After Bill is sent to therapy and doesn't recover properly, Axolotyl decides the best way to cure him? Split him in twos, turn both halves human, then erase their memories and send them off to Earth. Crazy style bc they start out as kids, time travel style, so the chaos that Bill created never TECHNICALLY should have existed but still does! Clarification? No! They do age faster than most kids.

The two of them are, lovingly, named Bill and Cipher. Both are pretty much each negative side of OG!Bill, with Cipher being the "positive negatives" (EX: Self-centered behaviors, god complex, etc.) and Bill being the "Negative negatives" (EX: Easy to anger, manipulative, violent, etc.)

The two are twins, and were 'born' with only one eye each. Bill has a birthmark across his face akin to the Theraprism Bill's scar, and Cipher has a strange birthmark along his face like brick. Each of them have a matching birthmark over where they're missing an eye of a Triangle.

Both eventually meet the Pines (this is where the whole Swooning over Stans game came into play lol), Cipher first after their car is mess up by Ford, and then the entirety of the positive/full-meter route for Ford happens from the game, with only one moment different from the game where the whole family kind of thinks that he's literally just Bill disguised as a human.

Bill meets them later after Cipher reconnects with him (they had a fallout at some point) and Cipher invites him on their next trip up to Gravity Falls, where Bill ends up getting along shockingly well with Stanley.

Blah blah here's some character sheet type stuff below Abt them

(CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of sex work, child abuse (and a vague reference to domestic abuse), self-harm, and suicidal ideation. Also, discrimination against disabled, queer, and even just slightly different people + racism.

BILL:

Goes by any pronouns, mainly she/they/he, he was assigned female when born but turned out to likely be intersex in some amount, as he had a high amount of Testosterone and only had very minor chest growth.

She'd consider himself bisexual or pansexual but never actually labels herself.

He works as a stripper/sex worker for the first half of his adult life, and only quits after getting tired of the whole deal. He only started because he enjoyed the attention/power but later stopped when he felt he had enough money, and started traveling. He mainly got tired of it due to how often he had to deal with abuse from the people running the places he worked for, including but not limited to constantly being called racial and homophobic slurs only for his advisor to laugh at him about it, and the usual harassment over his eye and birthmarks.

Between the two twins, he's gone through the most in childhood and was bullied a lot for having much more visible differences than his brother.

She ended up killing one of her and her brother's abusive caretakers in the past, taking a piece of broken bottle that was thrown at them and slitting his throat when he tried to attack them. This also ends up paralleling a future incident where she's assaulted by a stranger after "scaring him" with her looks, and only survived through pure 'luck'.

CIPHER:

He/Him only, but wouldn't be bother by They/Them. Was "born" with a deformed arm and only three fingers on one hand.

Doesn't really enjoy romance or sex, and only indulged in them occasionally (usually with drug dealers). He only ends up understanding even an ounce of what people meant by saying they romantically loved someone whenever he met Stanley, as the closest thing to love he ever had was his brother and a nice old lady he used be neighbors with.

He is incredibly self-destructive and the habit never leaves him, even after him and his brother move in with the Pines. He learns to keep it away from the kids out of fear of scaring them, as well as trying better with anger management. There still have been incidents of him purposefully attempting to burn himself on the stove when cooking or scratching out himself, even when around the kids, but he keeps the worst of it to himself and the other adults.

He wholeheartedly believes that he'd give up on life if he lost his brother or Stanley, and even if he didn't end up ending it, he'd likely fall into a deeper hole than he already had dug. He only somewhat believes that he might be able to stop himself just because of the kids, but since they aren't really permanently there, he doesn't trust that'd be true.

He never worked a genuine job until the Mystery Shack, and often stole or begged for money instead. The few jobs he did have were incredibly illegal, including joining multiple gangs throughout his life. He has a plethora of scars due to this, and some severe trauma from the things he saw and did.

He was very commonly abused in the houses him and his brother lived in due to his arm and hands conditions. He eventually got to a point in life where he didn't necessarily care about what people thought of him (aka he didn't want to change himself for them anymore), but did become incredibly defensive and would get aggressive when other kids pointed out his arm or hand. He never really simmered down about it, and still gets anger flare-ups if people so much as look at his arm too long. The only people he tries to not hold to that anger are kids, since he understands they don't know that much better.

[remycroft]

Cross my heart, Hope you die || Heimdall X Reader

Chapter 11 - To gain, you must also lose

"He what?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, Heimdall, the biggest prick I knew, had brought me from somewhere in Asgard while I was unconscious and brought me to Baldur's chambers twice now. I knew about last night because it was obvious, and he was probably being courteous for some reason. Now, thanks to Forseti making a very inappropriate comment about him leaving said chambers. I now knew he brought me back when I had passed out on the night he brought me to the library. "So he was the one that burned my hair?"

Forseti laughed, "You can barely notice it." That was true with the new style I was doing, but I was still pissed he did it. It was pettiness at its height if I'd seen any. "Besides, you don't care for how you look anyways."

He'd got me there. "I think we're missing the bigger picture."

"I believe we are."

"Alright on 3."

1

2

3

"Why'd he do it in the first place?"

"Why is Heimdall taking care of you?" I looked at him astonished. It was such a simple answer to his question.

"He's meant to be some shining Prince of Asgard, isn't he? Doing that is courtesy."

"Heimdall caring about courtesy, is like me caring about mud on my boot. We don't. Heimdall also is a racist piece of shit who would rather kill a Vanir in their sleep rather than kiss them goodnight after saving them from the cold of the wall."

"It must be on Odin's orders then." That was the only logical explanation, and thankfully Forseti agreed before my blush came full spread across my face.

"And to answer your question, my lovely aunt, he probably burnt of your hair because he's a narcissistic prick who can't handle that someone is prettier than him." I thanked him and after a moment of thought, "So, when is the wedding?" I glared at him before he laughed, and I followed suit, and our howls of laughter filled the mead hall.

Once we'd done with our laughter, I saw Atreus and excused myself before running to him, I did have to smirk at the orb I knew was directly behind and above us. This was the first time I may have actually done something good. "Hey, how is everything?" I fell into line beside him.

"I'm better, thanks, and no thanks to you." I placed a hand on my heart in feigned agony, "You wound me, Atreus."

"Loki, my name is Loki." He's never corrected me until now. Have I drawn him so much closer to Odin by defending the dwarves that he refuses his original name? I realise that I can't fight him on this. If he's refusing Atreus now, I need to be careful. I won't lose him further. "Fine. You wound me, Loki."

He smiles, "I'm not wrong, though. You are the reason I was injured, and you're the reason I'm healed."

"As long as you don't hold any ill will towards me for that incident."

He paused for a moment, "O-Of course not. You were defending multiple people who needed it. Who wouldn't do what you did?" Liar, he was lying. I understand him still being hurt, though. I made a vow to protect him, and I didn't. "Thank you. I'll ensure to make sure I keep to my promise, though. I will protect you, Loki, no matter the cost." And with that, he was gone. He went right to the person I needed to protect him from.

*~*~*

I couldn't get that bloody conversation out of my head for the past week. I was taken by my father for more work before I could intervene and I was so tired after and for the rest of the week that I couldn't manage bringing up her and my nephew's little gossip session. They mocked me, and I should've gutted the witch and my pitiful excuse of a nephew the moment they insulted me. So, when is the wedding?

That entire conversation was a virus that I wanted ripped from my head. She was right in it being courtesy, and he was right with the fact I would rather kill her than bring her to Baldur's chambers. They were both contradictory, so I don't understand how I just forgot to hate her kind. All I knew when I saw her that night was I was afraid of her and for her, and then last night, I couldn't just leave her up there. It was strange. Why would I do such a thing for her when she was something I hated?

~

"Do you know what she's done this time?" I remained silent as always. This wasn't a question I'm meant to answer, but I did know it. There was an orb created from mine and her blood to protect the brat she vowed to protect. It would follow him in the shadows and would use my powers to read malicious intent toward the boy and then attack. That was what I'd seen and gathered from it, at least. "For someone with such an inability to use magic, she sure has outdone herself in using BLOOD MAGIC for Ymir's sake!" He screamed and slammed his fist on his desk, making me flinch. "I can't even destroy it! I'm the All-Father, the strongest God alive, and yet, even I can't undo what she's done." She was that strong? That can't be possible. The All-Father could surely undo something like this. Even though blood magic was a dark form of magic, he should still be able to undo the little witch's spell.

"What would you have me do, All-Father?"

"Destroy it! Obviously! It's made of your blood too." I bowed and left. This time I didn't use my normal walking speed, I used my own enhanced speed and was able to reach the little brat in seconds. Just the thought of being near the Jotun made me want to spill his blood. I saw the orb go from a blood red to one of many. There was a swirl of sapphire blue, amethyst purple, emerald green, amber, which all surrounded the blood red orb that was ready to strike me down with my own bifrost. Oh, the little witch really had outdone herself.

I jumped up to grab it and just missed its beam of power that would've gone through my neck and squashed it in my own hand. I watched as blood covered my palm, and I felt a sharp pain ripple through me. I felt as if a dagger went through my heart and skull. I suppose blood magic does have a price, I hope she's feeling this, too. "Heimdall, what -" I struck back as I was overwhelmed by everyone's surrounding intent, and I could hear the boy's loud and clear, filled with concern. Blood coated the Jotun and the surrounding walls and doors. It looked like a massacre.

"Just following orders, thank the All-Father later."

"While I was just -" heading back now. "Then go, don't want to leave him waiting." I spat, baring my teeth. He took off in a hurry, and I tried to gather my sanity.

I hope the All-Father notices me and raises my station.

I'm going to drink this final ale and then go right back to my duties.

These books are so boring.

I wish I was as strong as Thor.

That girl is so hot.

"Shut up!" I screamed and begged, no one was around, no one could hear me. They would be all over this lodge, and I could hear each and every one of their primitive wants and desires, their sinful and selfish needs that I didn't care for and yet had to deal with. This was a price I was becoming very unwilling to pay. I had to do this for the All-Father, but it was an unyielding pain, I was losing absolute control, and I wanted to blast the entire lodge off the cliff behind us. "Heimdall?"

Silence. Sweet, beautiful, silence. My head cleared, and I was brought back to the grasp of sanity. The pain in my heart and head was agonizing, but I'd deal with it. It was them that hurt me. "Why'd you destroy it, you imbecile?" I stood up straight, and I could feel the fury I felt for her over the past week. It was liberating, something that blocked out the agony I was in.

"I'll do you one better. Why would the Goddess of Logic do something so stupid as to do blood magic?" It will only increase her chances of being executed earlier than the date we have: when the boy leaves.

"It was my duty, I've made a promise to protect Loki and will do so, whatever the cost." She bared her own teeth, and one hand went to her head, the other to her heart. So she was in the same pain as me, good. "Maybe you should be a better fighter next time, and maybe I wouldn't have had the idea to use our blood."

She taught herself blood magic from an idea? This bitch had to be joking. "You're kidding?"

She shook her head, "Yeah, I don't believe that for one second. Blood magic is an intense form of dark magic that barely anyone touches, excluding your own not so lovely mother, she had to have taught you."

She clenched her jaw, and I was proud that I had been able to strike a nerve. Although it wasn't hard, Frigg was clearly a touchy subject for her. "Besides, I had you on your knees, sweetheart. If you hadn't called for the wind and had it protect you, then you would have been reunited with dear old dad." Her hand went right for the sword at her waist, and as she clenched it tighter, her knuckles paled. "Bullshit." she spat.

"I would've killed you if I hadn't been forced back."

She looked like a lost cub, "I was only down for a split second."

"No, you were down for three minutes. Long enough for your legs to gain enough energy to get up, I guess." Her head drops, and her eyes widen, I could feel the pain in my body residing. I wonder if it was my own healing factor, or us two, maybe it was the fact she looked so lost, it could be her will. There were multiple factors, but as this was blood magic, there was no way of being sure. It was either me, her, or both of us. It was our blood, after all. I looked outside and saw it had gotten to evening, it seems I wasn't escaping her until twilight.

*~*~*

I didn't resist as Heimdall dragged me from the scruff of my collar to Gulltoppr. I felt so confused and overwhelmed that it had paralysed me. I could control the wind. I had lied earlier when I said I was down for half a second I knew I was down for longer than I should've been, that slice on my calves had cut half way through my legs so I had to wait and continue to try. I just thought he was waiting, playing with me for the thrill of the fight. I knew firsthand what it was like for men when their blood was up, sex or murder, Heimdall will be no different but would always fall to the latter option, no doubt. They're predators, and I had to try and be more no matter the cost. I suppose Heimdall was ruthless, though. That's how I knew he wasn't lying. He wouldn't toy with me. He'd go in for the kill, and I would've been dead. I could control the wind, and yet I had no idea how to truly control it. I felt my will come back to me as I'd combed through my confusion and sighed as I realised he'd thrown me onto my stomach so it was either fall or stay. "Welcome back."

"Go fuck yourself." A cold laugh sent a chill down my spine and then we were there.

~

"When did you find out?" I asked when we were about an hour into the watch.

"The first time I had to drag you back from the streets of Asgard to the Great Lodge, you had passed out, and I had to use a lot of strength to get through your tornado." The day he burned my hair off as he's a spiteful prick, "I may not be able to see into your head but I did overhear you and my wayward nephew and have a pretty good idea," I hid my head in my knees as I felt my cheeks go scarlet, "you split your head open and it was taking its sweet time closing. I cauterized the wound with bifrost."

Now that was different from what I originally thought, "Why would you not let me bleed out?"

"I pitied you." I raised an eyebrow wanting more detail, "There's nothing more to say." It was strange, I actually could no longer feel hatred for him.

He was an asshole, but he still was honest with me and had assisted me a lot. His intent may be up for debate but there was still some underlying honesty there, I know there was definitely more to say, more information that he's withholding but I don't want to fight with him. I'll still take great pleasure in killing him on a battlefield, but I don't hate him.

~

The next day I woke up to a solitary silence. Something was wrong, I don't know what but there was a feeling that felt like a tragedy was about to happen. Maybe this was the day I'm stupid and do something that allows Odin to execute me, or maybe he just does it anyway for shits and giggles. I lift myself up from the bed I've gotten used to over the past month and get ready, let's see what awaits me I suppose.

Apparently, it was a good thing that awaited me because the moment I got past the mead hall, I saw Atreus. "Loki!" I shouted, trying to grab his attention. Maybe I could delay his lesson with the All-Father, keep him safe a little longer. He doesn't answer, so I rush to his side, "Hey, Loki!"

"I heard you the first time." He spat, his voice full of disgust, what?

"Alright, erm, I'm sorry." he continues walking, and I speed up my pace to match his, "I'm busy, leave me alone." his behaviour is making absolutely no sense. Why is he acting like he hates me?

"What's wrong?" He scoffs and turns to me, his eyes pierced through my own like daggers, and I took a step back, "You're kidding, right?" I just blink, I feel pathetic. Did I say something wrong yesterday? I know I hadn't spilt Asgardian blood yesterday, so what was it? There was no logical explanation. "The orb you sent to attack me?"

"You mean, the orb I sent to protect you?"

"That's not what the All-Father said." He explains to me Odin's story. I had apparently sent it to attack him so he would feel unsafe and we could return home. How could I not realise how this could be spun? Odin was a master of deception, and I'd fallen right into his hands.

"Odin is a liar! I sent that orb to protect you when I couldn't! I didn't know it would shoot bifrost. Just read intent and call for me." I explained to him the truth. How could he not see this? He knows about Mimir, mother, and me. It was so blatantly obvious Odin was lying and manipulating him.

"Why would he lie? It fits with your violent behaviour." Is that all he saw? He didn't see the fact I'd looked for a way to protect him, a way to defend, a strategy to protect him when necessary.

"'Why would he lie?' do you hear yourself? He's manipulating you for whatever the fuck you guys are doing. And for Hel's sake, he called my father's death and my mother's curse an honest mistake not jealous rages. WHICH IS WHAT THEY WERE."

"Those may have been lies, but this one actually makes sense. Getting into fights is all you've done since you've got here."

I snapped, "So learning ways to defend and heal people isn't something?" I poked my finger into his chest, "Strategising ways to get you to safety if necessary isn't something?" I did it again, harder, forcing him back, "bonding with my nephew isn't something?" I pushed him this time, and he fell against the wall, "getting myself to guard duty with an insufferable prick for the sake of peace isn't something? Well, forgive me for trying to do what I thought was best."

"And yet you're the reason I'm pushed against a wall. You're the reason my arms got sliced by Valkyries. You're the reason I'm scarred on my cheek." I pushed myself away and I noticed the surrounding people; Sif, Thor, Heimdall, Thrud, Forseti, and Odin himself. I met Odin's eye and I could see the smirk.

I resisted the urge to end him there, I knew I'd fail. There were others too, but those were the noticeable ones. "And I have done everything I can to repent for those last two, and this - you know he's lying you're just too full of yourself here to notice." I looked around for an escape, and the only one was through the people I recognised. I could feel tears well up already at this argument, and all I know was a sign that strength was abundantly necessary. I didn't have any strength left. I ran as fast as I could through stifling my tears, and I called for the wind to save me.

I felt the wind change it's course and I picked up speed.

By the time I'd reached the willow tree, I was out of breath. It didn't stop me from screaming as the flood of tears came. I'd lost him, I'd lost Atreus. I truly was a failure

A/N - The ending was really heartbreaking to write, I hope you found that effect too. Otherwise, I've failed at my point.

[thinkingthroughpracticewithseren]

Storytelling - Where do we get our stories from? What can we do with them?

I've always been a keen writer, since I was very young and full of incredible ideas. Some of those stuck with me, but naturally, growing up is the worst thing we can do. Children are geniuses, and I'm going to show you why.

As a group we were given some themes in which we all needed to account a story we had that could tie into these themes. To begin with, we were given the theme 'First love' instantly people cringed as they wrote, but these stories tend to be the better ones to tell. Being a natural writer myself, I was able to construct my story in a way that described every detail from my outfit to exact quotations of that night. It is important when constructing a story to consider how listeners will visualise everything that is described such as location, 5 senses, colours and time period.

My 'First Love' Story - edited

'I almost didn't go. It was a friends 18th birthday party, my hair and makeup just didn't look right and, inevitably, I had a strop. I almost didn't go. Anyway, I put on a brand new brown dress, short with straps around the neck, I immediately felt confident. So I went. I remember ordering two malibu and orange juices, doubles of course. Liquid confidence, you might say. Shortly after my eyes caught another's; tall, blonde, almost pretty, for a rugby boy. I knew I had to shoot my shot but I had nothing to talk to him about. I saw him produce a very much not subtle yawn, that was where I unfortunately came out with the almighty, holy grail of pickup lines. 'Tired, are you?' and from there the conversation lasted all night, his arm made its way around my back. So cringe when I think about it now, but I was so in love. Rugby boys are like that though, stay away if you can. I'm joking, but the months spent with him after were so exciting. It was the first time I had ever been able to say I was in love. The fact that I almost didn't go, if I didn't I wouldn't have had that chance to fall in love, but had I not gone, I would have been able to stop myself from the bittersweet concept that is love.'

My 'Before I Was Born' story - edited

'Before I was born, my dad was a copper, a fed, a PIG. Well, yes, he was a policeman. He worked Cardiff streets on Saturday nights, fights Caroline street, Queen Street, you name it, he worked it. I find it hard to believe he was ever a rozzer, I always thought he was lying, you know how parents sometimes lie to scare you or discipline you, but he wasn't. He still has that massive police torch at home, and I'm talking over 30 years ago. But now, when I'm out causing nothing but chaos on the streets of Cardiff, I thank god he's not doing it anymore. My dad being a fed on a night out? Enough to ruin anyone's fun.'

It was very intriguing to listen to the stories shared by my peers, but what I found most interesting was that the majority of people had recalled a story from their childhood, as I said before, the things we did as children seem to stay with us forever, no matter how 'cringe' they make us feel to share. This is part of the creative process, and exciting stories are all around us.

We were then given the theme 'Before I was born' which seemed almost limitless. There was no rule to say this story had to be personal, but naturally, everyone seemed to recall a family story. The most interesting thing about this was that all the stories were so very different. I was taken in by each and every sharing of the stories, each written so differently, too.

Exploring with different themes really made me think harder and delve further into my past to bring old memories back to life. I feel I naturally took on an intriguing writing style that helped me to create audience anticipation and comedic elements, too. When editing these stories, I noticed how I always took into account the descriptive elements of my stories. For example, the five senses. I described a 'brown short dress' and the 'smell of jager bombs' these small details allow the audience to engage their imagination when hearing the piece which I feel adds to the atmosphere.

Initially, the act of sharing my own stories was slightly uncomfortable given the themes we were working on, however I was able to find comfort in my own writing style that reassured me that my audience were interested. I feel this was due to the fact these were unheard stories about myself that I may have never said aloud before, but the act of sharing them created a comfortable environment within our group dynamic and presented a clear development in our skills of speaking and listening.

When hearing other stories, it was interesting to feel various emotions evoked by them. For example, there was a lot of juvenile love stories that were easy to resonate with and made this humorous to hear as a group. I also do feel that the majority of the group were able to adopt a similar style of storytelling as a lot of the stories shared had comedic elements too. I think that we were all able to access memory well and deliver stories that would be of interest to an audience and also that gave us space to edit.

During the editing process, I was able to adapt my autobiographical stories to ensure that the key information of these stories was delivered well without inclusion of any unnecessary detail. When editing these pieces, I was still able to maintain the same style of writing as this ensured that the stories remained interesting and could build both audience anticipation and allow for resonance with audiences.

As we explored with various themes during the writing process, I felt that the use of themes is a really useful element for devising work. This is because the initial themes give us, as creators, a stimulus to develop from, while also allowing us to understand who will connect and resonate with themes. I also found smaller themes within the stories we created, for example, when focusing on the theme 'Before I Was Born' each member of the group shared a family-related story, which immediately helped to create a relatable theme again. However, there were also times when the theme extended to measures we did not expect, as there were many stories that took us on unexpected journeys.

When we began to consider locations for stories, we were able to undertake a trial-and-error method in which we found various locations around the university campus to share stories. For example, the bridge in the car park, under the stairs, and near the prison walls. Each of these placed the audience in a new dynamic that impacted the way the story was told and heard. What I found most interesting about this technique was that the audience were immersed in the stories and had more of a connection to them. The idea of us telling stories in different locations worked effectively as we were able to find suitable locations for specific stories which added visual appeal as well as audible.

What I had not considered before but did find interesting was the impact of a disruption in the telling of a story. For example, when listening to a story. if somebody had to repeat themselves or stumbled over a particular sentence, this communicated performers' emotions firstly, but also made these particular words stick with us as audience members. This allowed me to reflect of the idea of impulse and pace that we previously explored with as these can be both deliberate and non-deliberate, similarly to these disruptions in the telling of a story. What I found in my own writing was the way that every story that I told included a direct quotation or dialogue, a joke or tagline, and some form of repetition. I feel these techniques are important to storytelling as these are the minor details that stick with the audience most and these are moments that make our stories memorable.

What was interesting about placing stories into a sequence to create a performance, was that there was a varied concept of 'flow'. There were certainly times where the pieces felt seamless and could feed into each other well, however there were times where I felt a lack of continuity, particularly when moving between locations. This is something that could be improved by extending our dialogue/ensemble pieces into a thematic 'filler' to avoid unintentional alienation of our audience. However, when adopting a sequence for these stories there were apparent links between some of the stories, and others that felt more isolated and more subtle. However I enjoyed the subtly of some of these stories as they presented the idea that one theme will not limit all stories to sound the same, this also allowed us to reflect personality into the piece as well.

I feel that the process of storytelling is an effective way to find common ground between a group of people, but individuals of the group may also still remain separate from this. This is what ignited my idea of 'Do we really know each other?' which we made the collective decision to include in our devised performance as a concept explaining how we could bring an audience on an emotional and physical journey using personal stories, and yet they still never really know us. I enjoy this as a concept as I feel it relates strongly to the wider world and I feel this gives a large opportunity for an audience to interpret this in whatever way they feel is right. This is what intrigues me most about theatre, we never really know a story because we all perceive it differently.

As we utilised my idea of the unknown, we were able to explore more with our ideas on impulse and pace. We know that theatre practitioners have consider both of these concepts in their work, particularly in devised theatre and there is something more impactful about group impulse. I considered Stanislavski's work on impulse and the systematic approach he took towards taking something we do everything subconsciously and exploring with the small boundary between conscious and subconscious impulse in a group environment. We considered this in both a physical sense and through dialogue too. We then stemmed more from the question 'Do you know me?' and created a number of entirely random questions to create a 'quick fire' effect around the table. This presented an impulsive atmosphere in the room as we were answering each question with 'Yes, No or Maybe' without hesitation to keep up rhythm and pace between us. I found this dynamic created an almost uncomfortable atmosphere which had a real impact on the concept of not knowing each other, this worked very well.

Essentially, us bringing an audience on a journey to various locations in which they hear many different stories, followed by this impulsive round of unexpected questions did create some form on alienation, particularly when moving between locations and there were short amounts of time in which the audience were no longer immersed in the performance. I felt that this required some more clarity as we had not intended on creating this feeling, however it happened due to lack of continuity here, I feel.

As for locations, I think that the majority of them were suitable for the story being told, however there are certainly ways we could push this further. For example, as we hear the story told by Marley with the chapel in view, I was intrigued to know what would have happened if we were to enter the chapel and have the audience act accordingly. I feel with this story in particular, there would have been more sense of shock for the audience had they been fully exposed to the expectations of a religious building. I felt that the dynamic changed with every story and really impacted the journey. The telling of Rubi's story that was told between the bookshelves was a really interesting dynamic as it felt as though we were being told a secret.

I chose to tell a story of a time I had fallen down the stairs in a nightclub. I performed this on the stairs, audience standing above me while I was laying sprawled across the stairs. I felt this worked well for the story I wanted to tell as it added something more engaging. I also used music to create some ambience here, which pulled the audience further into my world.

Sharing these stories as a community of actors based in the UK made me wonder what kinds of stories I could get from other groups. For example, I feel some of the most interesting stories could be told by a group of people who are/have been convicted of a crime/s. I was drawn to this idea as I was intrigued to explore with the extent of how much we truly know each other, which I believe is not at all. This is what I enjoyed most about this process is that I was able to delve so deeply into myself to bring out emotions that I haven't felt in a long time and allow myself to feel vulnerable, and yet still, nobody really knows me.

What I talked about before, children being geniuses, it really only came to me when working on devising theatre. As all of us had shared some form of childhood story, if not multiple, and this intrigued me as I had not realised before how many of our best stories are all around us. If I were to revisit this devised work, I would include some more clarity for the audience, but not total clarity. This is because what many people enjoy most about theatre is that it is open to interpretation, as with each of the stories we constructed.

[sapphic-woes]

no thoughts just vampire sevika draining me of my blood while i’m sitting on her lap

Since this is the second time I've been suggested vampire Sevika imma go for it...with hcs cuz I'm very tired these days :)

🦇 Vampire Sevika 🦇

In this au, Silco is a vampire drug lord that sells blood pills in high demand. They could have like major side effects or be addictive like shimmer, who knows.

The thing that's important is that they're drugs specifically for vampires and you don't know that when you begin working there.

The reason why you, a human, was hired by Silco is becuase you're great at money laundering. So good he's willing to bring you onto the team...with his right hand tasked to protect you.

Sevika isn't happy. She's already busy af and yet she has to take care of you? You're already weak amongst humans. To vampires, you're a mouse walking into a lion's den.

To you, Sevika seems ready to snap you in half at any second, however instead of you she eventually does that to someone else. Some goons are oddly interested in you to the point where it's terrifying, and when one of them tries to do something, Sevika is quick to put them in their place.

One second you're cornered and trying to escape the hands of some goon–and the next, they're gone.

You can hardly process the fight. There's not much of one anyway. With speed slightly greater than a human's, Sevika beats your assailant to a pulp before slamming them into the wall, with Sevika's arm pressed into their neck.

She nearly kills them with how long she keeps her arm there, growling out a reminder that you're Silco's before letting them go. She looks back at you, and you swear....you swear her eyes are golden before she blinks, and suddenly the cloudy grays are back to glower down at you again.

After that she prowls. You don't know how to describe it with another word. She walks behind you like she's meant to hurt you. She's rough when she pulls you away from other curious vampires, hands always dancing over your throat as she stares them down. You know there's some meaning to it all, but for the life of you, you can't figure it out.

That is, until you see her drink the blood of some woman at the Last Drop.

You had been so tired. Usually, as Sevika's orders were, you scurried back home into your apartment, shut the doors with double locks and...sprayed the outline of the door with Sevika's cologne?

You still didn't understand that last part. She made you wear her cologne all the time. If you forgot, she wouldn't even greet you in the morning.

Rather, it would be a fistful of your blouse yanked toward her. She'd deeply inhale at your neck before letting out a tsk–and then, oddly enough, she'd pull out a bottle of her own and douse you in it.

Perhaps that was why when you walked into the Last Drop at the witching hour, only to witness a usually homely bar sullied with the stench of blood, the scent of her own cologne over it all made Sevika's eyes snap to you so quickly.

"Don't come out after midnight. People are out there that you don't ever see otherwise. They walk around looking to make sure people like you never get to see the light of day again."

For once, you understood what she'd meant.

They'd reached for you, people with glowing eyes and sharp fangs, and you nearly screamed. However, before you could even let out a sound Sevika gathered you in her arms.

"The fuck are you dogs doing? Can't you tell she's mine?" Sevika's voice was a frightening snarl. She lifted you up with ease, carrying you bridal style in her arms. Her hand shifted on the back of your head, guiding your face until it nestled into her chest.

"She's here for me." The vampires in the bar laughed, and one spoke up.

"I knew you were too obsessed with her to think it was just a job." Another agreed.

"The way you've been looking at her these past days, I was worried you'd lose it and suck the poor thing dry. Almost told Silco his new ace human was gonna end up an empty blood bag soon." That earned laughter from the entire bar, and Sevika scoffed, arms tightening around you as she walked toward the door.

"Funny. If you weren't already drunk off your asses I'd beat the shit outta all of you right now–" Though you couldn't see anything, suddenly you heard footsteps and felt Sevika come to an abrupt stop, hearing a voice right in front of you both.

"Hey, she just got here! Stay, live a little. No one's gonna try and touch a human you've claimed anyway." The way they talked, as if they weren't humans themselves, made you shudder.

But they aren't. They never were. The thought had you heart hammering away, and the thick arms around you pressed you closer.

"Clearly, she's not used to the night life yet. Sweet girl missed me so bad she dared to venture out..." You squeaked when fangs nipped at your ears, Sevika's breath like ice against your skin. "and at this rate, her heart might give out. Humans can do that you know. Die of fright. So unless you want to explain to Silco why you let that happen..."

"O-okay! Fine! Fucking hell you're still as possesive as ever, I know you just don't want to have anyone else to try her blood." Sevika snorted, and you felt the body you clung to move as she strode out the door.

"Of course I don't. Why would I ever share what's mine?"

She was pissed, to say the least.

Sevika would have thrown you onto the bed if she thought she wouldn't accidentally kill you. (She thinks humans are quite brittle.)

Instead she merely dropped you onto it, watching you scramble back with dark amusement.

She doesn't say much, just lights her cigar. She watches you as she takes a drag a few times, eyebrows furrowed. It's uncanny silence for what feels like eternity until she speaks.

"Now, everyone knows that you know, and the only way everyone's gonna leave you alone is if they think you belong to me. Do you understand?" You quickly nodded, shrinking back when Sevika came forward. She towers over you and looks you head to toe. The tantalizing gaze makes you tremble, and that makes her lips curl around her cigar. Another drag, another puff of smoke. The heavy scent of jasmine spice lingers.

She bites you before you can even blink.

There's no ceremony. Not slow easing into it. One second Sevika is standing, and the next her teeth are buried into your throat, and her hands are holding your arms down to keep you from squirming, and she's taking deep, draining gulps that feel like fire at your throat. You can't breathe, you can't think, you just want to cry and moan and scream at the same time. The pain is as ruthless as it is sweet, and it consumes you.

Sevika pulls away after having more than enough of her fill, well aware you'll be faint for days. She thinks it worth it with the sight of your teary eyes and bloody neck, the clear outline of her bite visible for any vampire to see. She's frazzled herself, eyes gleaming gold as she huffs down at you.

"You don't taste too bad...for an accountant."

[mars-gallavanger]

have you ever drawn anything evangelion related? id be very pleased to see your rendition of the characters (even more so in the homestuck style, if you happen to have those)

At the time you had sent this ask to me (like a year ago), I hadn't ever drawn anything related to Evangelion, because I had never watched it! Also apologies, because around that time was the whole Shinji VA Karkat thing, so this post is a whole lot less relevant now. Anyway, I just finished watching Evangelion, and in the process of that I have drawn fan art. Which I am planning to post here, because I'm tired of this only being a Homestuck fan art blog! I'm kind of tired of Homestuck, anyway. Despite this, I drew up some Homestuck Evangelion stuff for you, and I'm going to talk about like, the process of re-styling things, because I think it's necessary.

So it definitely won't fly to just slap the Evangelion designs onto the Homestuck bodies. That would just look silly.

You lose so much detail just by the virtue of the proportions, even. Neck details? Gone. Shoulder details? Obscured to nigh disappearance. Arm details? Don't even get me started. And the level of detail is also just unfitting to the Homestuck style, which is a style very much based on simplicity and quickness to draw. To have all those panel lines and cool lines would be against the point. There are even more contentious differences between the styles, like the "tone" of the stylized proportions. The Evangelion kids are all lanky and cool, because they do much cooler, serious, adult things. The Homestuck kids are shaped like marshmallows, and were literally designed to be 10 years old. A skin-tight plugsuit looks silly on a marshmallow body, and a serious face on a big round head looks weird. The last thing I can think of to say right now is also in the whiteness of the Homestuck kids, as in their skin is literally white, and the fair-haired kids have white hair. It's fine for Homestuck, especially in the practically-all-white-with-black-outlines world of the early acts, but it doesn't work so well with the colors of the plug suits and the girls' hair. Particularly the chest and shoulders of Shinji's suit, and then like, ALL of Rei, because she would have white hair, white skin, and a white suit. Which, actually now that I say it, sounds like it would fit in the Homestuck style, but it wouldn't fit in the Evangelion-adapted Homestuck style, unless you made all the plugsuits black and white or greyscale, which would be weird. Point is, there are a lot of issues, so part of me thinks that it wouldn't even be worth it. But if I had to, here's what I might do...

Here are two designs, one of which is obviously Shinji, and the other of which is less obviously also Shinji. I'll get to Figure 2 Shinji in a bit.

For Figure 1 Shinji, it's mostly just a matter of vastly simplifying things so they look alright in the style. Get rid of the dimensionality of the chest/vest thing, get rid of so many lines, simplify shapes. It's all pretty straightforward to me, but also I've spent too much time thinking about the Homestuck/MSPA style. The one part of this that I feel might need some explaining to a general audience would be the face: dot eyes and a line frown. To me, "Homestuck style" is just a subsection of MSPA's style in general, so stuff like Problem Sleuth is free range as reference material. You might be tempted to add lids to his eyes or something, but I've never believed in stuff like that. The dots are a quintessential representation of eyes, and I know Andrew likes to use 'em! Frankly, I don't think I'm explaining this right, but also I think I'm a little stuck in the past where everybody used to do lidded eyes for their sprites/designs, and I think there's been an uptick in just dots. At least in the communities I see. Oh, and then also, these go on Shinji because he's a pretty normal guy. Sad, too, which is why he gets the slight frown. If I were pushed I could maybe give him white-outlined-in-black eyes (think Problem Sleuth Death, a little), since he's got blue eyes, but I don't think they're bright enough. They would make him look more anxious though, which may be a bonus.

Figure 2 Shinji is a more interesting case. This is not just converting Shinji from Evangelion into a Homestuck-styled character, but it was an attempt to create Shinji if Andrew were to create him. Because I know that, if Andrew were to create a story about kids using giant mechs to fight monsters, it would look nothing like Evangelion like, at all. Andrew's imagery is much different. From what I see and have read, he's much more inspired by like, 90's (and prior) American comic books. That's probably the strongest (and most trackable) influence, but there's more too. I see some graffiti influence in his art, and also the influence of the 2000's internet, which itself was influenced by manga and anime, but an influence of an influence is not direct. I don't believe Andrew had ever seen an anime before he made Homestuck. Except for like, I don't know, Astro Boy or Speed Racer. Really, the labelled "anime" stuff in Homestuck is kind of retroactive: before it's called such, it's more just "cool guy stuff" or "video game stuff". But I believe I digress. Figure 2 Shinji has a simpler costume (which honestly I'm not too proud of--I haven't read enough 90's comics to really understand the costume design. This is some irrelevant trivia, but Cable from X-Men has a glowing red robot eye and a robot arm, which is something we've seen in Homestuck like, twice. Andrew also drew a picture of Cable once. Just in case you didn't believe me about the 90's comics influence or anything), his interface headset isn't some strange set of hairclips, it's more like, uh, a regular headset (and if I were to redo this I might just make them like a pair of headphones), and then also the plug suit isn't skin tight because those thin little legs look silly. Frankly, I think the Homestuck style is the worst of Andrew's styles to adapt Evangelion into. Something like And It Don't Stop or even Psycholonials would be better, I think. Oh, and I gave him a squiggle mouth because I thought it'd be more unique. I think it's kind of silly now though. Figure 1 Shinji is the more effective one (definitely more recognizable, that's for sure). And because it'd be no fun to only draw Shinji, here's Rei and Asuka!

So that's my rendition of the characters in the style! Sorry for the late response, but it's better late than never! And I'll try to post more art soon.

[animebw]

What is it with devil part timer? I wasn't ever going to watch it but now i am curious.

Short version, it's an anime from 2013 that's sort of a reverse-isekai: instead of a normal person getting teleported to a fantasy world, a demon lord and a couple of his minions get teleported to our world and have to work at McDonalds (sorry, MgRonalds) to make a living. It's basically a sitcom about super-powerful demons and angels adjusting to the life of a low-wage service worker, with some occasional action thrown in for good measure. I wasn't in the anime fandom when it was released, but it apparently got quite a passionate following. And they suffered for almost a decade with no season 2 announcement until a new studio finally picked it up just this season. So people were excited.

And then they saw what the new season was actually gonna look like.

See, the first season was produced by White Fox, the studio behind Steins;Gate and Re:Zero. And while it wasn't a visual masterpiece or anything, it was very well put together on a technical front. Solid action, solid direction, solid editing from shot to shot, and- and this was the real ace up its sleeve- some of the best damn expression work of its time. So much of this show's comedy works before of just how damn expressive and intense everyone's faces are. It's just the right balance of snappy and over-the-top. And while the studio producing season 2, 3Hz, isn't a bad studio by any stretch, the style they chose to go with was a lot softer, a lot rounder, and a lot less suited to the style of comedy it's going for.

Like, this is how the average punchy expression looks in season 1:

And this is the baseline for season 2:

Like... there's just no personality to the second one. It's the most generic anime face of concern imaginable. Plus now every female character has that godawful perma-blush that way too many female character designs have nowadays, and there's so much less animation overall, and the production quality really sinks as the season goes on, and... look, this whole season just looks so bland. There's no imagination or energy to any of the visual choices, and the first season had both of those in spades.

And unfortunately, once you take away the strong visual presentation, you're forced to confront the fact that The Devil is a Part-Timer... really kind of sucks in the story department. Yeah, it's a neat premise, but the execution of that premise mostly just results in every overused anime trope you were already getting tired of back in 2013. Half-baked lore, unnecessary love triangle/harem, the main guy being somehow completely oblivious to the girls' interest in him (despite one of them LITERALLY TELLING HIM TO HIS FACE SHE LIKES HIM AND HE STILL DOESN'T SEEM TO UNDERSTAND SERIOUSLY), groan-inducing fanservice, casual fatphobia, That One Scene From Sword Art Online, you get the picture. But at least the first season had enough energy that you could mostly overlook those things for the sake of a well-produced comedy. Season 2, though? It's so lifeless and aimless that the flaws in the writing become impossible to ignore. This is just not a good story, and it doesn't even have enough style to be passable anymore.

...man, I had more thoughts on this than I realized, lmao.

Anyway, we'll see if the last two episodes turn things around. But in all likelihood, this season is going to end up a 3/10 for me. And even if you're a fan of the first season, I wouldn't recommend it, because basically everything that made the first season work is gone now.

[wymthatsillegal]

Hello! Can I request a Batman x vigilante!male reader fic? :0

I think it would be pretty cool if they’re like competitive at first, but then they become two gay idiots pining over one another :]

Anyways have a nice day!

New Gloves

Battinson x Male Reader

Contains: foul language, fighting, rooftop chases

Content Warnings: fighting?

Summary: You're a vigilante in Gotham, using the cover of your sick-ass Wolf mask (thanks to @kaine1888 for the idea) to beat some baddies up. Well, one night in the middle of a brawl you run into the one, the only, Batman.

No usage of Y / N

Word count: 1264

Author's Response: whats up tit sniper, awesome request!! i had tons of fun writing this, everything just fell together really easy so that was awesome. i tried to keep the reader's vigilante persona ambiguous still so it wasn't like an OC yfeel me, so i hope you like it!! enjoy!

asks are open >:)

Your fists bled underneath your thin gloves, you could feel the split skin over your knuckles beginning to stick to the fabric in your body's attempt to patch itself back together. "Fuck." You muttered under your breath, seeing another dark figure down the alleyway. "Considering how bad I fucked up your friends, I can only assume you like pain with the way you're approaching me." You called out into the alley, the figure freezing. You turned towards them, wiping blood from the snout of your wolf mask. "I don't know whether to thank you or not." Came the gruff voice, bass projecting off the brick walls. You dropped your fists, eyebrows furrowing before realizing you were standing before the Batman in the flesh.

"Ah, no worries, Mr. Vengeance. You don't gotta thank me for anything, I take it upon myself to do this stuff.  Caught these scum trying to rob this woman." You punctuated your words with a swift kick to the nearest guy, just for good measure. Batman had continued walking towards you, his ridiculously heavy boots crunching against the gravel. You studied the bat through the eye holes of your mask, eyeing his square close-shaven jaw and vivid red lips. He parted them to say something before setting his jaw and the sounds of shouting coming from behind you two. "Hey, look what they did to our boys!"

You gave them a wolfish grin, more like a baring of teeth really, your voice echoing down the small alleyway. "Hey, hey! I suggest you all just walk away, keep your heads down like you didn't see anything, no one has to get hurt!" You spread your arms, gesturing widely to the group of bodies groaning in pain on the damp concrete. (It was always fucking raining in Gotham) The Bat quietly eyed you and your tactics, taking note of your incredibly built figure that would be to any other person very intimidating. He thought your wolf mask was fitting to your physique, both giving the energy of a protective and strong character.

Sliding his gaze to the group of people approaching, he realized they wouldn't think the same of your stature and just charge. As if on cue, someone in the back yelled "Get them!", sending a group of about seven armed men your way. Bruce felt a chill go down his spine at the low laugh that ripped from your throat, him looking over at you again to see you stretching your arms and bouncing on the balls of your feet. "No killing." It came out a bit more breathy than The Bat had intended, eyes meeting yours as you turned to face him. "Oh don't worry, pretty boy, I don't kill. Just give them a little... oh what's the word-" Your hand shot out and smashed into the face of the nearest guy, his attempt to grab your shirt gone violently wrong. "Tough love." He scoffed at you, watching you stomp on the guy's head. "Tough alright..." He surged forward, obviously tired of the small talk.

Crunching a guy's head into the nearby wall, Batman took a hit to the cap before uppercutting the poor sucker, laying a few more blows on him when he hit the ground. Taking advantage of his crouched position, you hopped over him leap-frog style and threw your weight onto a guy about to put a bullet in your new friend, grabbing him by the collar and pulling his head into the weight of your knuckles. He cried out in pain when you dropped him, his head hitting the gravel. One guy remained, obviously the youngest one there with shaking limbs and the thinnest frame. "Get out of here." Came that husky voice from behind you again, taking you a little by surprise.

Batman didn't have to tell that kid twice with how quick he booked it out of there, almost tripping on the momentum of his running as he turned the corner. The second you two were alone you hissed, shaking your fists, the blood seeping through the fabric now. "You should get better gloves." You scoffed at him, "Tellin' me, Vengeance. And for the record, even in these shitty things I still kicked way more ass than you." At that he darkened (if that was further possible), a sigh coming out of his nose under the cowl. "Don't let me catch you out here again," He took your hand with surprising gentleness, long eyelashes fluttering as he looked over your knuckles. "It's obvious this is hurting you." You clicked your tongue at him, "If I knew any better, I'd say you're getting a little soft on me." He dropped your hand but still held it, staying close to you he almost inaudibly whispered "Do you?"

It had been a couple of weeks since your run-in with the famous Batman of Gotham City, who continued kicking ass in the night and then poof during the day. You had (obviously) not heeded his "warning" and were continuing your vigilante work, taking special care to look out for the infamous black cape before making a move.

Tonight though?

You made eye contact with him from across rooftops, blowing him a dramatic kiss before tossing your weight down a fire escape. He had begun to chase you, the sound of his grappling hook tearing through the air letting you know you were about to have company. Laughing into the night, you pushed your body forward, leaping off the rusting metal and onto the next building just as you felt the frame dip under his weight. You rolled and hit the rooftop of the building at a wonky angle, your ankle stinging a little as you continue your chase. It spoke for the other man's strength that he was able to relatively keep up with you even under all of his armor and equipment. You starting to try and fathom the idea of being weighed down by all that, but quickly realized you should've kept your head clear when you felt a hand grip yours, pulling you backward.

You used his created momentum to wrap your body around him, sliding behind him and wrapping your arm around his throat, not intending to cut off his air, just intimidate. He figured you would do this and pushed you into the wall behind you, knocking the wind out of your chest and shocking your muscles to give out. Using this opening he brought his hand to your throat, fingers not applying any pressure. You yelped out, breathing heavily and leaving your hands limp on either side of you. Smiling, you huffed out, "Long time, no see, Vengeance." He scowled at you, "It was supposed to stay like that. Why didn't you listen to me?" You snorted at him, "'Cmon, Bats. Do I look like the kind of guy to listen to a stranger in an alleyway?"

He paused for a moment, caught off guard. You used this opportunity to push against his hand, he let you get closer, both of you holding your breath. "I think you don't actually want me gone... no, I think you care about me." He exhaled shakily, "I-" You slid a strong hand gently over his eyes, taking your mask off to free your lips enough to kiss him. He made a surprised noise, instinctively shrinking away before warming into the contact. You broke away, smiling. Slipping the mask back over your features you gave him another one of those big smiles, taking your hand away.

"I'll be seeing you, Vengeance." And with a wink, you disappeared into the dark.

[gravityunforgiven]

Right Where You Left Me (Kakashi x OC)

Pairings: Kakashi x OC, Jiraiya x Tsunade

Synopsis:

She was the daughter of a Legendary Sannin, He, a son of a disgraced shinobi. Fate brought them together but life tore them apart. Will they be able to take control of their destinies and find their way back to each other?

...Or will they be another victim of the cruel shinobi world they are both a part of?

Chapter Four

"You didn't tell me." Kakashi's tone was almost accusing.

Their roles were reversed now. She was the one sitting on the bench of the locker room as he stood next to her.

You didn't tell me you were going to be a jinchūriki. You didn't tell me you were chosen.

Of course, that never happened. She was too late to do anything.

Akira looked up, her voice just as cold as his, almost menacing. "I didn't think you should know."

A deafening silence engulfed the two.

"He's dead." She breathed in conclusion. A silence fell over the two as their reality sank in. Minato was gone and so was Kushina. Kakashi knows they were an important figure in her life especially after her mother left the village.

Kakashi sat down next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

They didn't talk much for the next three years. He threw himself at work to relieve his pain and she did exactly the same to relieve her guilt but every now and then, Kakashi would find a neatly wrapped bento box placed on his front door and he would know it came from her because she was the only one he told about how much he hated eating his own cooking.

She remembered.

—

He just turned seventeen the first time he walked her home. Their friends threw him a small party ( against his will) in the dango shop for his birthday. Everyone in their class were invited and Kakashi actually had a good time himself.

Akira was not her usual self that night.

She had just returned from a mission from the Land of the Waves when Kurenai knocked on her door and dragged her to the shop. She was never the one for the parties but she sure does enjoy the company of her friends but she was just dead tired at the moment. The adrenaline cursing through her veins for the past week had died down and fatigue has taken its place instead.

It was half past one when the celebration wrapped. Everyone bid their goodbyes outside the shop and parted ways.

She headed west and him to the east.

However, Kakashi couldn't get Akira's unusual behaviour out of his head. He just turned into the first corner when he found himself running back, past the dango shop, and to the opposite direction of his apartment at full speed.

He found her walking on third street on the way to her house. Akira immediately noticed the familiar chakra signature and stopped on her tracks.

"Kakashi?"

He gave her a smile, his eyes crinkling in the process. "I thought you shouldn't walk alone at this time of the night." He shrugged.

Of course, that was a lie. She was more than capable of taking care of both of them but it was all Kakashi could come up in the short time he had before he was able to catch up with her.

She lived on the far west side of the village, in one of the quieter neighbourhoods. She had too much chaos in her life that she just wanted to have a little bit of serenity in the rare times she was actually home and she figured that the best place to get that was to be away from the center of the village and in a neighbourhood full of civilians. In here, she could just be a normal person just like every body else.

Their walk back to her apartment was quiet, peaceful, even. The two of them basked in the calmness that surrounded them and the presence of one another. There were no words that needed to be spoken, they both knew how nice it was not to walk home alone for once.

Kakashi was at a war with himself the whole way to her place. He didn't know what got to him and he did this. He was not typically the one who acts based on impulse. He was a shinobi, the kind who plans his every move and analyzes the situation he was in.

But this, right now. Walking next to her, Kakashi couldn't put his finger to what he was feeling but somehow...it felt right.

"This is me." She said, stopping in front of a moss-colored door.

He bid his goodbyes and left. But Kakashi lingered in her street a little bit more. He hid behind the shadow of a street lamp and stayed until he heard the click from her door as it locked and the first light in her home burst into life.

On his way home, he concluded that he was just being a good friend and it really was just late. He made himself believe that it was just a lapse of judgement on his side and it would never happen again but ever since that night, they sat a little closer to each other, sometimes their shoulders would brush and although Akira seemed oblivious about it, Kakashi was hyperaware of her skin brushing against his and he couldn't be more thankful for the mask he wore.

Kakashi tried his best to fight against his own instinct. It was no easy task especially for a shinobi who relies on his instincts the most, but for her sake, he did.

He knew he was bad for her and she was too good for him. Everyone he had ever loved died. His parents, his team and most recently, his sensei. He couldn't do that to her. He would rather suffer for the rest of his life knowing she cannot be his than bring her down with him.

He can't live with that. So he did. He did his best to do what he believed was right and ignored his feelings knowing she deserved someone better. Someone who could protect her more that he can. There were no labels between them and he settled on the privilege of walking her home when he had the chance. Every time, he would tell himself that it would be the last time he was going to walk with her only to fail again the next time.

Kakashi knew he was in too deep. He didn't know when he started falling. All he knew was that when he walked next to her for the first time nearly two years ago, deep inside, he wanted to be by her side for a very long time.

She made him feel safe, she didn't treat him any differently when people were calling him names and their friends looked at him with pity in their eyes. She has just always been there. She was his one constant since his days in the academy to his time as an ANBU. She understood his pain when he lost Minato and respected his space when she too was grieving and needed someone but most of all, he fell for her genuine kindness, her bravery and how she always puts others before herself.

It was during the time when Kakashi found himself meddling with Root Division business, a stern warning came from her. She said he may no longer recognize himself if he continued to deal with the division. She said it was made for people specifically like him. But when Lord Third was negotiating with Danzo, she volunteered herself to be in exchange for another wood style user, Kinoe. His abilities were only half of what she can do and yet she willingly went back into the dark so he could find the light. The Third strongly disagreed with this, but like before, Akira did not listen and she was back in the Root Division. She shrugged nonchalantly saying she needed more training anyway.

Kakashi asked if Kinoe knew Akira. He said yes. She was really powerful when they trained together and they became good friends since they were the same age.

When the Root Division was disbanded, Akira was back on the Hokage's ANBU. She was in the hospital for weeks, and when she came back, she was still wincing in pain.

This made Kakashi want to put her first for once. He felt like she had no regards for her life, like she didn't care about it. He knew what that feeling is like and he wanted her to know that she was so more than just another pawn in the war.

She was slowly becoming his world.

She made him feel things that he didn't even know existed, she made him do things he thought he would never do. She made him see the beauty of life once again.

She saved him.

For two years Kakashi kept himself at bay, wondering if Akira felt the same way as he did. A part of him hoped she only saw him as a friend and nothing more, he hoped that the meals she left on his door were just random acts of kindness on her part, he hoped it was just him making up stupid scenarios in his head because he knew wasn't strong enough to stop himself from caving in if she does.

Their friends eventually noticed Kakashi's odd behaviour. He looked for her as he passed through the sushi restaurant where she's mostly seen these days, it was her face he first searches in a crowded room, the one he hoped to see when he tagged along for dinners and the others eventually noticed.

They didn't really confront the two about what was going on (except for Gai which Kakashi outright denied) but they always had their suspicions that there was something more than what meets the eye.

He ran into her in the locker room the night he first held her hand. She just came from a week long solo mission in the Land of the Snow and though he wouldn't admit it, he missed her.

"How did it go?" He had asked her.

"It went well." She replied as she strapped her shoe into place.

She stood up from the bench the same time he sat down. Before she reached the door she called his name and told him she was going to report in to the Hokage and eat dinner after. She was out of the door before Kakashi could ask her if she wanted him to join her for dinner. He stared at the door, perplexed and unsure of what she meant.

He ate next to her anyway. That night when he walked her home on the now familiar streets that led to her house, their hands lightly brushed against each other. Kakashi's heart almost stopped when he felt her hand take his own.

It was warm. So warm that the heat radiating from their tangled hands traveled through his whole body.

She wanted him.

Akira held Kakashi's hand just as tight as he did with hers. They didn't have to exchange words to know how each felt. Their eyes already said a million words. It was just how it's always been with the two of them.

When they reached her house, Kakashi walked her up to her front door. He watched in amusement as she fumbled with her keys before finally abled to unlock the bolt and switched the first light on.

They stood in her doorway, both unsure of what to do next but when her green orbs met his dark ones, Kakashi knew there was no stopping them now. Whatever the consequence may be, there was no turning back. They were both in too deep that the world would just have to deal with them being together.

Kakashi leaned in and kissed her forehead. She smelt like oakmoss, like the forest after the rain. It eased Kakashi's nervousness.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Everything fell into place soon after that. As the months passed by, the began to fall in love with each other, know each other, it was slow and gentle, like the flowers blooming in the spring.

They became familiar with each other's presence, their small quirks and habits, like how Kakashi likes his miso soup with eggplants in them or how Akira can't go to bed without a cup of warm tea and the way he would stay up late at night just to watch her sleep, wondering how he had gotten so lucky only to discover that Akira talks in her sleep. She mumbled words in a language Kakashi never understood but once in a while, his name would leave her lips and Kakashi swore he could feel himself falling in love with her all over again.

Kakashi never thought he could love someone this much. love. He was in love with Akira. He thought he loved her enough before, but now, having her in his arms, knowing her the way he was the only one allowed to, Kakashi asked himself what he could have possibly done to deserve her.

None of their friends knew. In fact, no one besides the two of them knew about their relationship for an entire year. It was the first time for the both of them and they wanted their relationship to be theirs for the time being. They knew the others would find out soon enough but for now, they wanted to relish the feeling of finally having each other after years of holding back.

It was a little after Kakashi had moved in to her apartment when the news broke out. He had been sleeping in her house for months and didn't do much "moving in" anymore since most of his things were already in her house anyway. In fact, her apartment has been looking more and more like theirs for a while. She had neatly folded her clothes to make space for his growing number of shirts left in her place months ago and the window sill that contained her worn-out books now has his as well.

Their relationship finally became public when Genma had caught Kakashi leaving Akira's apartment early one morning. It would have been harmless and easily dodged if Akira hadn't bolted out of the door to give Kakashi a kiss goodbye on his masked lips. Genma initially kept their secret for weeks but accidentally slipped up during a conversation which Kurenai and Gai immediately picked up. It wasn't long after that when the pats on the back were given followed with congratulations for the couple. Their former classmates weren't really surprised by the news, they always knew it was going to lead to this but what took them by surprised was how they were able to keep it a secret for a long time.

The answer was simple. They were both ANBU members after all.

Kakashi cherished their long walks together the most. After all, it was where everything started. They walked along the streets of Konoha, hand in hand with the moon shining brightly above them. No one could touch the way they laughed in the dark, talking about their future or the way they would spend hours on wrapped in each other's arms, watching the sun go down. He loved how the world seemed to fade away when he looks at her. All he could see was this woman who chose him despite his flaws and accepted him wholeheartedly.

They were no longer two seperate beings, they were two souls merged into one. This time, they will have each other to lean on for the rest of their lives.

That was the plan.

Life doesn't always go according to plan.

—

Next Up: Tsunade and Akira meets again.

[sugarrushproductions]

One Was Never Meant To Be

Recruitment And Visit

He truthfully didn't need to look long to find someone from the league. The alleyway was dark, but my feathers covered my blindspots. he had already sent a few through it, seeing if there was any point in going down it. Excessive fire crackling and voices told him it wouldn't be a complete bust.

Hawks had forgone his hero costume to keep as many eyes off of him as possible, instead dawning a gray T-shirt with black pants and a leather jacket. A few bracelets ran up his arms, but he left out any piercings. If a fight breaks out, he didn't want his ears to get ripped and add a vulnerable area.

"I'm telling you, I can be useful!" A woman begged, her voice hurt and wary. 

"And I said, I don't care," Another voice, this time male, answered. "Leave me alone." His voice was deep and husky, and he spoke with authority but didn't make it obvious. Something in Hawks twitched at the sound. He shook it away.

"No! You can't just discard me like that! After everything you've done, I won't-" she stopped suddenly and blue light became obvious in the alley. Hawks poked his head around the dumpster he was hiding behind, which stunk immensely and would have him showering most of the night, to see better. The flame was coming from the man’s hands, a bright blue flame. Based on the files Hawks had to look through before starting and this man’s quirk, it was guaranteed that this was Dabi. 

"What did I tell you? I'm not looking for anyone. All I want are people with powerful quirks and who actually the cause. You are neither."

"B- ..but..." she whimpered, backing away from the flames.

"Your beauty enhancing quirk is useless to us and you only want to be in to be with me, which is impossible and frankly, quite stupid. Now shove off."

"Is that anyway to talk to a lady?" Hawks finally spoke, coming out from his disgusting hiding place. His hands were in his pockets and as he did he did his best to keep up a nonchalant smirk.

"Oh, #3- I mean, 2- hero. Funny seeing you here," Dabi said, turning his icy gaze to Hawks. That thing from before twitched again. He ignored it.

“That title isn’t confirmed yet. Don’t jump the gun.”

"You should really go now." He side eyed the girl who gave him a glare and a scared look to Hawks. But she still ran out of the alley at what seemed to be her top speed; not very fast. It was a good few minutes before either spoke.

"Well, now that she's gone, we can speak freely," Hawks said as soon as she was far enough away. Dabi raised an eyebrow but kept the flames high in his hand. And around him. It wouldn’t be easy to get out of here without burns.

"What are you doing here, Hawks?"

"What kind of hero would I be if I ignored a villain right in front of me? So-" He raised his wings, which had practically been dragging behind him in a low manner. Looking intimidating had its drawbacks. "Dabi. What brings you here?" He shrugged, like Hawks wasn't threatening at all.

"Getting rid of an annoying fan. But I think the real question is, why didn't you try and take me in right away. I know your quirk and your style." He took a few steps towards Hawks, no more flames on his hands, but the ones on the ground were still burning bright, illuminating them in blue. His matching bright blue, icy eyes stared into Hawks’ golden ones. The twitching turned to something that he couldn't place, and didn't leave this time. It felt so very weird and wrong.

"You usually would've tried to take me on before I knew you were here," he stated. "Why announce yourself?"

"Because, I want to join the League." No hesitation. He couldn’t afford it. But of course, his words earned a cold, amused laugh.

"Seriously? You don't think I'd buy that, right?"

"I'm serious. I'm tired of the way society is. I'm tired of people who just want money being heroes. I'm tired of kids being forced to be heroes simply because they have potential." That one had more emotion than the rest but they were all true in some way; such is the way of going undercover. Dabi eyed Hawks for a moment, then smirked. Hawks blamed the heat on his face on the flames, even though he knew better.

"Ok." Hawks withheld the sigh of relief he felt wanting to be released. Wait, Hawks. You aren't out of the woods yet. "I'll talk to the boss about it. But you're going to have to pass some.... tests, if you want in."

"What kind of tests?" Hawks asked, worried at his tone but not letting it show. If he asked him to kill someone, his cover would be blown before he even got in. Dabi laughed, the sound almost grating on the ears.

"Relax, nothing extreme. Spinner and Compress don't kill unless they have to or believe someone is that corrupt. And even that is rare." Hawks' eyes widened causing another laugh from Dabi. "You're very readable. If you want to be a double agent, you need to work on that."

His smirk was growing annoying to Hawks, if only because he was right. He can't let my emotions show too much. That being said, there was a bit of relief at the fact that they won't make me kill anyone. 

"In any case, I need to talk to the boss," Dabi said, turning away from the bird hero. "Don't follow me. I'll contact you." The flames disappeared and he along with them. Once he was gone Hawks sighed in relief and went home. He had already lost sleep and he had things to do tomorrow.

. . .

Ectoplasm greeted Hawks kindly as he walked into the teacher's lounge. At this point, the teachers were accustomed to his visits and didn't pay him much mind other than normal greetings. Except Mic.

"Hey, hey, hey!" A loud shout cut off the conversation Hawks was having with Eraser. Eraser looked slightly annoyed as he was pushed into All Might, a slight pink on his pale skin. "If it isn't the bird man himself!"

"If it isn't the human microphone himself!" Hawks said back, grabbing his outstretched hand and pulling him into a hug, patting his back. 

(This is in for no other than the fact that I think they would make good friends. Idk why I think I this, I just do. Same for another pair. You'll see in a sec.)

"If you keep coming up here, we're going to have to make you a teacher," he laughs, making Hawks chuckle fairly genuinely.

"I'll think about it." Hawks released him and looked around, noticing the absence of another teacher. "Midnight on another date?" He was fairly certain that he knew who it was, if that were the case.

"Nah, hero work this time," All Might said, sitting down. Hawks guessed that he was tired, considering his form. He admitted, it was a shock when it first happened, All Might retiring. But based on his smirk, Hawks would say that he's making the best of it. "Though, some heroes should start going out more." 

He was staring at Eraser during the entire sentence, only glancing towards Mic once. Eraser glared at All Might as his cheeks turned a light red and Hawks suddenly realized the meaning behind All Might's smirk, dawning one of his own.

"At a time like this, doing anything of the sort would be irrational," Eraser countered, going to sit down at his desk which just so happened to be right next to All Might. Mic had already gone to his desk next to Ectoplasm. 

"You and your 'rationality'. Just go fo-"

"No."

"But-"

"Uh uh." 

"Come on."

"I said no." All Might groaned as Eraser buried his head in some paperwork. Hawks withheld his full laugh but letting out a snicker. Goes to show how much adults have matured since our high school years.

"Um, Mister Aizawa?" A small voice called from the open doorway. It was too small and squeaky to be a student here, so Hawks was a bit surprised. He turned quickly and saw a small little girl, no older than six standing in it. Her hair was a striking silver, her eyes a maroon, and she had a small horn on her head.

(This is before the festival, but I want Eir here sooner.)

She looked like she just woke up, given the messiness of her hair and the purple polka-dotted pajamas.

"Eir," Eraser said, beckoning the small girl to him. She walked over, rubbing one eye. Eir. Wasn't that the girl saved from the Yakuza.

"What are you doing up so early?" He asked her, putting her on his lap and pulling Hawks from his thoughts.

"I needed to go potty and after I didn't see you, I realized where you were and I came here so I wasn't alone." This little girl was so cute. Would a future kid of Hawks' be like her? Probably not, given Eir might be the girl from that raid. He hoped that if she was that girl, she was feeling safe now. Well, as safe as she could in this world.

"Is this your kid, Eraser?" He asked only to possibly make him slightly flustered as he leaned on one of the dividers for the desk. The girl looked at him, kinda timidly, and held tighter to Eraser. 

"No," he answered, though it didn't look like he wanted to say it. "This is Eir. She's the girl the team went in to rescue at the Hassaikai headquarters." 

"Oh," he stated simply. What he thought. "What's she doing here?"

"She got discharged from the hospital and was allowed to come here to live."

"It may have something to do with how her quirk works, but I'm honestly glad she's here," Mic said, walking over to the two and kneeling down. 

"Hi Mister Mic," Eir said. While she seemed happy enough, she didn't smile.  Weird for a girl her age. Whatever happened to her must have been terrible. Eraser blushed with Mic so close, but he had a soft smile. All Might  and Hawks shared a smirk.

. . .

Eraser decided to take Eir to the dorms to visit the work study students, and the others, so he ended up escorting Hawks to the dorms as well. 

He didn't get why he still came every Saturday. He'd been coming ever since the work study ended. It doesn't seem very rational for the soon to be new #2 hero. But then, neither did adopting Shinso. Or trying to adopt Eir. So he really couldn't talk.

"Hey Hawks," Jiro waved from her place next to Denki. Even though it was 9:45 on a weekend, Denki was full of energy. He was bouncing around, much to Jiro's displeasure. 

"Hi!" Denki waved before going back to whatever he was doing. A more tame reaction than the first time Hawks visited. Eraser still wonder how he was able to spend even a minute alone with Tokoyami that day; many students got away with autographs.

"Heyo!" Hawks answered with a wave. 

"Eir, ribbit," Tsuyu says, walking over to them. There was a happy bounce in her step. 

"Morning Eir," Ochako yawned. Eraser wanted a nap too. 

"Oh, hey Hawks," Midoriya waved. He was walking extremely close to Todoroki, who looked like he was about to fall asleep again. At least, that's what he wanted everyone to think; as an avid napper, Eraser knew when someone was faking sleepiness. That, and he often had to give him permission to go for a morning run.

His suspicions were confirmed when he laid his head on Midoriya's shoulder. Midoriya stiffened and blushed, but he ran his fingers through Todoroki's hair. Honestly, he was surprised that Todoroki's left side didn't ignite, but he did smile. 

Hawks glanced at Eraser, clearly asking if the two were together. Eraser shook his head, and he shrugged. 

"I don't think Tokoyami is up yet," Todoroki muttered as sleepily as he could manage to act.

"Yeah, I figured," Hawks answered. "I thought I'd just hang out here till he got up. Maybe play a card game or something." 

"Cool!" Denki chimed in.

"Bet you ten bucks Denki is gonna lose, Sero told Jiro.

"Oh yeah, definitely losing," she answered, to which Denki whined.

"Hi Deku," Eir said. Midoriya immediately lit up and carefully moved Todoroki's head off his shoulder, then almost ran to Eir to hug her. "Who is that?" She asked, pointing to Todoroki. 

"Deku's stupid boyfriend," Bakugo said before Midoriya could answer. Apparently, he and Kirishima had just gotten up. 

"Bakugo, don't say stuff like that!" Kirishima scolded. Midoriya and Todoroki blushed deeply, the later likely causing a rise in temperature. "Sorry, Midoribro. Sorry Todoroki." 

"No! No!" Midoryia yelled, waving his hands frantically. He then proceeded to ramble about how it was ok that Bakugou said that, but he and Todoroki 'were just friends', rather irrationally and unhelpfully.

"What's a boyfriend?" Eir chimed, causing all of them to jump, none wanting to explain. Hawks was withholding a laugh, obviously wanting to say something. A glare from Eraser shut down whatever he was planning to say, Hawks making like he was zipping his mouth shut.

"W-well..." Midoriya trailed, but Eraser and Denki cut him off by talking at the same time.

"I'll tell you when you're older. (What Mic and Aizawa are.)"

Eraser glared daggers at him as Hawks burst out laughing, not even bothering with pretending to unzip his mouth beforehand. Denki shrank behind the couch as Jiro laughed with Hawks.

. . .

"Are you serious?" Tokoyami asked after Hawks explained what happened before he had gotten up. The two were just enjoying a walk around the school grounds; just mainly to the cafeteria. It was always a madhouse at mealtimes. But at that pace, they'd be the first to the cafeteria for the lunch rush.

"As always," Hawks told him. Tokoyami narrowed his eyes at his mentor.

"That does not help your case." Hawks chuckled, knowing that the persona he played was part of the reason for it.

"Fair enough. Umm, how about as Serious as Eras- Aizawa, is." Tokoyami's eyes went back to normal as he contemplated the new analogy.

"I suppose Present Mic and Aizawa are very close," he said after a minute or two. "And I have noticed how different the two act together."

"Yeah, that's what I thought too." Hawks refrained from saying that they've been friends since high-school. That info seemed private, only to be shared by those it concerned.

"So, what is going on in your hometown?"

"Eh, my sidekicks are handling stuff there for now. I'm stationed here at the moment." Tokoyami did a double take. 

"Why?" 

"Unfortunately, it's a secret business thing." Tokoyami narrowed his eyes again, the wheels obviously turning in his head. Hawks let them turn, curious to see if he got it.

"Hm... it has something to do with the League, right Hawks?" 

"Well, well. Nothing gets past a U.A. student. Come on, or we won't get the good stuff." Tokoyami knew Hawks couldn’t say more than that without risk of my mission being compromised. 

"Lunch isn't until 12:30 and it's 11. I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Yeah, true. And I guess here is as good a place as any." Tokoyami looks at Hawks confused.

"For what?" He asked cautiously as the hero smirked at him.

"I think you know." Immediately, he crossed his arms and looked away. He hated this conversation, which also always left him embarrassed by the end.

"We are not speaking of this."

"Come on, haven't you talked to her?" Hawks chuckled as Tokoyami’s brows furrowed. "Now how can a U.A. student who's faced the league itself be afraid of a girl?"

"I'm not-!" Tokoyami finally looked at Hawks, glaring so hard that he raised his hands in surrender. He was sure that he was about to call Dark Shadow until he sighed and looked down. "She doesn't seem to be looking for something like that, so obviously I'm hesitant to ask her out. I don't want to get in the way of her dreams." Hawks couldn't help but laugh, earning another glare again, but he put an arm around him and pulled him along.

"Look, if you keep thinking like that, you'll never get anyone," he smirked. Tokoyami started to protest, but he was interrupted. "I'm just saying, hero work often tries to get in the way of happiness. You can't let it. All you have to do is go for it."

"Still..."

"No still." Hawks grabbed his shoulders and turned him so that they werefacing each other. "The next time you see her, you ask her out. Got it?" If he could blush, that's what he'd be doing at the moment, especially with his eyes wide. After another minute, he sighs and smirks, though it looks more like a smile.

"As always, your advice is straightforward and, strangely comforting." To that, they both shared a laugh and headed off. But all this talk about love and crushes made Hawks wonder.... if he had gone to a normal school, and had a normal life, would he have a girlfriend by now? A wife? Probably not that far, but still; he couldn't help but imagine what life could be if he wasn’t Hawks, the #2 top hero.

Previous/Next

Index

[kirah69]

Better Than New

Nogitsune/Stiles + pre-Steter + pre...

Summary: The nogitsune gave her a new body, but it wasn't like her old body. He had given her a parting gift.

Warnings: trans mtf character (Stiles), nogitsune, some angst, happy/open ending, Peter provides.

Words: 3510

[AO3 link]

The bandages kept piling up on the floor, damp with saliva. There was silence save for Stiles gasps and retching. When the end of the bandage fell to the floor, for a second or even less it felt like it was all over at last. An instant of relief until black smoke billowed from the bandages and something inside began to move. Everyone went on alert. What else could happen now?

A head began to emerge, pale skin with deep dark circles and long black hair. It was like seeing the girl from The Ring coming out of the television. Several weapons were pointed at her, everyone's attention focused on the stranger. Her brown eyes looked up, tearful and terrified, tired, pleading and confused. Someone recognized her and called her name. The wariness turned to worry and confusion. They stopped retreating and approached her. They helped her out of the bandages, asking all once if she was okay, what had happened, what was going on, in an almost unrecognizable cacophony.

When they remembered the other Stiles and looked around them, he was gone. Lydia too. Chaos broke out again. They all ran after the nogitsune and his new hostage, and only Melissa was left looking after her. Stiles couldn't move, she was exhausted both physically and mentally. Her body felt so strange and her mind felt half empty. She didn't know how she felt at that moment about anything, she didn't even have the energy to think about it.

“Honey.” Melissa put down the glass of milk that Stiles just drank on the nightstand. She twisted her hands in her lap as if she was gathering the courage for something. “What has... happened?” she asked in a whisper.

Stiles turned her head toward the wall. She didn't know what to answer, she still hadn't assimilated it. Melissa didn't ask any more.

As soon as she could get up, Stiles went home and locked herself in her room. She couldn't do anything now. They knew how to kill the nogitsune, and Stiles wouldn't be of any help to them, much less in the state she was in. She didn't even dare to look at herself in the mirror, maybe out of fear that it was just a dream or maybe that it was real. She covered herself with a thick sweatshirt and tied her hair in a ponytail with one of the threads she used for the crime board, tucking the end inside the sweatshirt.

Noah barely noticed in the darkness of the room when he visited to check on her. It was hard to notice the changes in the barely ten seconds he was there before going back to work. They still had a demon to catch.

When Stiles got a message saying they were done with the nogitsune, it wasn't relief that she felt, but she did allow herself to finally worry about what had happened to her. She pulled on the hood of her sweatshirt and headed to the loft in her jeep. She almost had an accident because she couldn't stop looking at herself in the rearview mirror. Her heart was beating so hard it was almost pounding in her ears, and she couldn't keep her hands still on the wheel. She was going to show it to someone, she was going to talk to someone about it for the first time, although she didn't know with whom. She wasn't sure who would be in the loft, although she could imagine it.

Stiles jumped out of the jeep as soon as she parked because she was afraid that if she thought about it, she would regret it and go home. Her body vibrated as she took the elevator up. (She had thought about going up the stairs, but she would have no air left when she got there.) She nervously adjusted her hood for a moment in front of the loft door. When she opened it, the only one there was Peter. He was the only one she really needed to see, so it was no problem.

“Stiles, what a surprise to see you here. I thought you'd be celebrating with your friends.” Peter barely looked up from his tablet for a second and went on with whatever he was doing.

“I don't think there's anything to celebrate,” she muttered, though the wolf could hear her perfectly. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you.”

That seemed to pique his interest.

“About what?” he asked, lowering the tablet.

Stiles took off her hood. She kept her gaze on the ground. At first, she didn't hear anything and then there was movement on the couch.

“I admit I thought my imagination had played a trick on me, but it was real,” he commented with curiosity in his voice.

Stiles shrugged. Yes, it was real, what could she say?

“Why?”

Stiles looked up. The wolf was in front of her, looking her up and down with interest. She was ready to answer, she expected that question from Peter, but his gaze made her nervous.

“A gift. He said it was a gift for having used my body. Not that it makes up for it, but I admit he's been very considerate,” she commented almost to herself.

“I suppose then you're not looking for a way to undo it.”

She was so grateful that he didn't say the obvious, she could almost cry.

“No, I just want to make sure there'll be no side effects and that... it'll be permanent.”

She was so afraid that it was not permanent, that she would blink and it would disappear, that she didn't dare to enjoy it. She was living a dream, not even in her wildest fantasies had she imagined such a thing, and she was terrified.

“I'm pretty sure it's permanent, and from what you say, it doesn't sound like it's a trap. Although I can't be sure of that, he's a nogitsune after all.”

“It's not a trap, I know that,” she answered confidently.

“You know?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I do know. He was in my mind and I was in his. He knows me as well as I know him. It wasn't a lie, I'm just afraid that now that they've killed him, his magic or whatever created this will disappear,” she explained, unable to control that edge of panic in her voice.

“We can investigate it. It'll be difficult to find anything specific about the nogitsune, though. But I think his magic is powerful enough to make it permanent,” Peter assured her with conviction. “Besides, he's not quite dead either, he's just trapped again.”

This time it was Stiles who looked at him in surprise.

“Trapped? They said...” She breathed a sigh of relief for the first time and most of the tension in her body melted away. Her shoulders relaxed and her legs nearly gave out. She dropped onto the couch and threw her head back. “I know I shouldn't be happy, but... it's...”

“You don't have to give any explanation about how you feel. Only you were there. Only you, and the nogitsune, know what happened in your head. You have the right to feel how you feel.”

Stiles raised her head somewhat surprised and didn't expect the soft smile on his face or the intense way he was looking at her.

“What?” she asked when Peter didn't stop looking at her, almost as if he wanted to pounce on her.

“Those clothes are pretty... terrible for a brand-new body. You should get something more appropriate.”

“Hey! These are my usual clothes!” she exclaimed a little offended.

“I know,” he replied almost as if it hurt.

Stiles blushed and twisted the hem of the sweatshirt in her hands.

“Um... You're... you're the only one who knows. I was hiding it until... well, until I knew it was permanent,” she explained a little nervously.

“All the more reason, this way you can make the big reveal looking your best. Or like this if that's what you prefer, but you can choose.”

“I-I don't have money for-.”

“My treat. Let's go.”

Peter grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. When he just walked away without stopping, Stiles got up in a hurry and ran after him. It was a bit strange having Peter riding shotgun in his car (she wondered how he used to move around the town, she had never seen his car, if he had one), although it was not the first time she had a Hale in her jeep.

The wolf glanced at her as she passed the Beacon Hills mall exit and continued into the neighboring town, but he said nothing. She was not yet ready to meet someone she knew with her new look. She hadn't even thought of an excuse for her sudden change, there was no treatment that would achieve such a radical change in such a short time.

Stiles stopped the car near the entrance to the mall. It was a weekday, so luckily there weren't too many people. She had no time to hesitate because Peter immediately got out of the car and headed for the doors. She used the wolf almost as a shield as they advanced, and Peter led her to the most expensive store in the entire mall. Just looking at the prices made her feel dizzy and somewhat uncomfortable, she shouldn't be in a place like that.

“We could go to...”

“It's my money, and I plan to spend it well,” he replied, almost reading her mind. “Now take your time, I'm in no rush. If you want advice, I'll be in the sitting area.”

Stiles had thought that he would stay by her side telling her what would fit her best, what was most appropriate, what matched and all that, but it made her feel good that Peter stayed in the sitting area and let her choose her own clothes.

After choosing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, Stiles thought she had finished the purchase, but Peter motioned for her to continue without even taking his eyes off his cell phone. After trying on several sizes to find hers, she ended up with three pants and five T-shirts, all of which were not very different from her usual clothes, but fitted to her new body (she liked her style and that wasn't going to change). She wanted to buy a skirt or a dress, but there she was completely lost.

“Do you need help?” Peter appeared behind her suddenly, and Stiles jumped.

“I'm going to put a bell on you,” she murmured. She was holding two dresses in her hands, but she couldn't make up her mind, she didn't even know if she liked either of them. “I have no idea about dresses, I've never... I didn't dare to...”

Peter took both dresses and put them back on the rack. He circled the racks a few times and came back with a dress that left her speechless. The body was black with a V-neck and a diagonal cut at the hip, with four white buttons on the left. The sleeves from elbow to wrist, a patch on the chest and the two-layered ruffled skirt were made of a white, red and black plaid fabric. It had enough plaid to fit her style and not too much to put Peter off. It was modern, casual, discreet (maybe in the future she would try something flashier, but not at the moment), she loved it. She looked at the label and it was just her size, which was surprising because she hadn't told him.

She went into the dressing room and when she came out, Peter was sitting there, like in one of those movie scenes where women tried on dress after dress and came out to show it off like it was a runway (they made it look super fun, but it was exhausting to try on clothes). Peter looked at her with an expression that made her blush. His eyes almost seemed to glow.

“Beautiful...” he murmured.

The blush on her cheeks became brighter, and she hurried back to the dressing room. Had Peter looked at her like this before? Was it because of her new body? Or did she realize it now because she was more aware of her body? Stiles would have to ask him directly if she wanted to find out, but she was not yet ready for the answer.

The total price was too much, but Peter didn't even blink, and Stiles didn't bother to say anything because the wolf wouldn't listen.

“Um, the entrance is on the other side,” she informed him as Peter headed in the opposite direction.

“Hairdresser first. That hair shouldn't be in a ponytail.”

Stiles frowned and touched her head wondering what he meant.

When the hairdresser asked her what she wanted, Stiles went blank.

“Just fix it,” Peter replied instead and turned to Stiles. “You'll have time to do whatever you want, but at least it has to be fixed. That guy doesn't know anything about haircuts.” He was talking about the nogitsune.

Stiles smiled and nodded.

The stylist offered to do her eyebrows and do some makeup, and Stiles agreed. Maybe she shouldn't say it herself, but the result looked pretty good. The hair with more volume still with her somewhat disheveled style, the eyeliner and some gloss on the lips. She looked at herself in the mirror and liked what she saw. For the first time she really liked herself.

This time she saw the wolf approaching in the mirror. Peter placed a hand on her back and looked at her reflection approvingly.

“You won't need the bite to become the most popular girl in the school,” he whispered almost in her ear.

This time she not only felt it but saw the blush blossom on her cheeks in the mirror. She snorted and turned around, she didn't want to keep seeing that silly expression she made with Peter around.

“I'm not unpopular because of my looks, I'm unpopular because of my personality, and that hasn't changed.”

Peter shrugged.

“Their loss.”

Stiles didn't know exactly what was that alleged loss, but she appreciated the encouragement.

She drove back to the loft and really meant to leave Peter there and go home, but she couldn't. She didn't know if her father would be there, she couldn't see him yet. What could she tell him? How was she going to explain this to him? What would he think of her? What would the others think? How was she going to tell them? What if they thought it was just a curse? What if they wanted to “help” her undo it?

“Stiles,” Peter called out to her, and it might not be the first time. Stiles lifted her head and stopped holding the wheel as if her life depended on it. “Do you want to go up?”

Stiles nodded. The wolf must have smelled her panic. She would be stinking at that time.

She took a deep breath and when his breathing returned to a more or less normal rhythm, she got out of the jeep. Peter took the bags (it was not an area to leave anything in the car) and accompanied her. When Stiles opened the loft door, the wolf dropped the bags and pulled out his claws, but before he could stop her, before the growl even left his lips, Stiles lunged at the figure in the middle of the loft that resembled her old appearance.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him with all her might. She was so happy that she couldn't hold back and began to cry. Her legs were shaking and Kuro held her as his lips pressed against her hair.

“Shh, I'm here, Mi-chan,” he whispered, stroking her back.

“I thought they'd killed you and then that you were trapped again,” she murmured against his shoulder without letting go of him.

“Please, they were very foolish to think that they could just trap me in a wooden box after absorbing so much magic. They really only know how to underestimate others.”

He lifted Stiles' face with one hand and gave her a tender kiss. Stiles sighed and smiled.

“I'm glad you're back. Oh.” Stiles remembered then that they weren't alone (as they were always in her mind). Peter was looking at them with his mouth parted and a shocked expression. It sure had to be weird if it had managed to surprise the wolf. “Um, Peter, this is Kuro, the nogitsune, and... well... he's not as bad as you think. There are many things that you guys don't know and many lies that Noshiko told you.”

She was doing it unconsciously, but she had placed herself between Kuro and Peter in a protective gesture. He didn't expect Peter to attack without further ado, without questions and without thinking. Others could, but not him. Still, she had already lost Kuro once and was afraid it would happen again.

Peter put his claws away and relaxed, at least on the surface. He approached with slow steps, trying not to look threatening, more for Stiles than for Kuro.

“Given Stiles' reaction, I'll say I'm glad to see you again in better circumstances,” he told Kuro with a polite smile.

“The smart boy. You have chosen well,” he told Stiles, nuzzling his cheek.

“Uh, I-I haven't...” she stammered nervously. She wasn't sure what he meant, but Kuro knew her mind better than anyone and more than once they had talked about Peter. She just hoped Kuro didn't say anything he shouldn't.

“Why are you wearing these clothes? Now you have boobs, I thought you'd want to show them off.”

“I don't want to show-. Ugh, we just came from buying clothes to... show off my new body.” It was useless to argue with someone who had been in her mind, much less Kuro.

“Great! Put it on, I want to see you,” he said almost like an excited child.

Stiles looked at him with narrowed eyes and a frown. She turned towards him a little without removing the arm that he still had around her shoulders.

“I can't just go around looking like this, people know me as a boy, they won't understand that now I'm suddenly a girl. There's no treatment that will achieve this overnight,” it sounded kind of desperate, and she felt like that. She still couldn't think of anything to explain this.

“Oh yeah, sometimes I forget,” Kuro muttered.

“What?” Stiles asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Human ignorance. But don't worry.” He pulled her close with his arm and gave her a long kiss. Stiles could feel the magic flow through her body. That feeling was no longer alien to her. “Done,” Kuro said with a satisfied smile when he pulled away.

“What did you do?” Stiles asked confused. She looked at her body, but she didn't see anything different, nor did she feel different.

“No one is going to question that you're a girl, for them you always have been a girl,” he answered with complete confidence. Stiles looked at Peter, but Peter shook his head. “It doesn't work with him, I figured you wouldn't mind. I can change it if you want?”

“No, no, it's fine.” She didn't care if it was Peter, he had reacted much better than she would expect from anyone.

“Then come on, it's about time for you to be yourself,” he told her.

Kuro shoved her toward the bags that were still on the floor and approached the wolf faster than Peter could react. He tried to control himself, but couldn't help the tension in his body when Kuro put an arm around his shoulders.

“And why don't you cook dinner for us in the meantime, little wolf?” Kuro asked or almost ordered him with his face very close to his, his breath brushing against his lips.

He looked like Stiles, like the old Stiles, but he didn't smell like her, he didn't speak like her, he didn't feel like her. It wasn't difficult in his mind to tell apart this Stiles from the real one.

“Kuro!” Stiles scolded him when he was about to kiss Peter.

Kuro grinned with sharp teeth without pulling away from the wolf.

“Of course, it'll be my pleasure,” replied the wolf.

It was Peter who gave him a kiss and left without letting him react. Stiles gaped looking behind the wolf and Kuro threw himself on her back, wrapping his arms around her.

“We're going to have so much fun, Mi-chan,” he whispered in her ear.

Maybe, at least Peter seemed willing.

* END? *

Ok, I may continue this fanfic, but that'd be after the one I'm working on. But I don't promise anything. Even so, I accept ideas for a future new chapter.

For the @transbingo : Coming out

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Come Over | Elijah Mikaelson

Hey Lovelies! This is my first post on this profile! If you're curious feel free to pop over to my other handle: @sweetpeasgirl where i write for riverdale! However this blog is for all fandoms! It's all very exciting and I am happy to take on a new project. Anyway this is my first time writing for Elijah/TVD/TO so I hope its good! Also my first smut oh no oh god. Lemme know what you think!

Description: Based on the song "Come Over" by Sam Hunt. Y/n finds out Elijah Mikaelson is a vampire in the worst way possible. She freaks out and runs. Elijah follows after. It comes to a crossroads at her apartment.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! NSFW, Smut (oral female receiving), 18+ (I feel obligated to say it ;) )

Word count: 3413

Tags: fluff, some angst, SMUT

(Photos not mine but mood board is :) )

I turn the TV off, to turn it on again

Staring at the blades of the fan as it spins around

The clock on your nightstand reads 11:34. The remote control is heavy in your hand. Nothing on the TV is interesting to you even slightly right now. Your room is sweltering and dark. Your bed is a mess, the comforter crinkled and shoved to the foot. Messy beds are always more uncomfortable. Any day but today you would care.

You glance down at your phone, not surprised in the slightest to see another missed call. That makes 22. Almost a new record. Two more and he’ll start a new one. That’s just his type. Persistent. It’s why you fell in love with him. He didn’t give up. You sigh and block the call, placing the phone face down on the nightstand. Your whole body feels hot.

Clicking again on the remote, you come across a reality show. It's trashy, the accents are harsh, it screams “daddy’s money”. It’s perfect. Maybe it’ll be enough to take your mind off of the events of this evening. Off of him. The girl on the show runs into the arms of a handsome man. You turn the TV off almost as fast as you had turned it on.

You had been picturing tonight in your head for a week. The Mikaelson Ball. Dining and dancing and elegance. Nothing your usual life regularly allowed. It was supposed to be special. The invitation alone was magnificent enough to make you swoon. The dress had almost made you faint. The necklace did. It was all perfect. He was perfect. And then it wasn’t.

Your phone buzzes again on the nightstand. You forgot to turn it off. Or maybe you left it on purpose. Your head feels fuzzy, though, and you don’t want to think about it. You wish his face would get out of your mind. Your eyes drift to the fan above you and you try to count the blades as they go around and around. You lose track easily, and you don’t care. It doesn’t do anything to soothe your molten skin.

Counting every crack, the clock is wide awake

Talking to myself, anything to make a sound

You pick the phone up once more, ready to scream at it. Every part of you feels like it's on fire and seeing his name on the screen pushes you over the edge. You don’t know what you did to get tangled in all of this but you’re ready to claw your throat out. Instead, you throw the phone as hard as you can against the pile of comforters. It stops buzzing but your skin is still sticky. You feel sick to your stomach.

“Why did you pick me, why couldn’t it have been someone else,” your tone is harsh but it’s not like he can hear you, “it hurts Eli. Make it stop. Please!”

Your voice is barely a whisper and it turns to cries quickly as the anger dies out. All you can see, swirling around the depths of your mind, are his fangs. The way his brown eyes died to a blackness. The stark veins against his sculpted cheeks. He had looked every bit as beautiful as ever. Still elegant, still handsome. Still Elijah. But dark. Dangerous. That’s what scared you. Elijah was still Elijah when he was ripping a heart from a chest.

It felt like a blur when you saw it. One minute he had his hand on the small of your back. You had been taking a stroll in the garden. It was like nothing you had ever seen before. Beautiful hedge walls and roses of all different colours and a magnolia tree like you had only ever imagined. The moon wasn’t quite full over your heads. He was finally about to kiss you, something you had been silently pleading for for months now. Before his lips could touch yours, though, there was a hand around your throat. It had squeezed to the point of you almost passing out before Elijah had time to rip you away from your attacker. You didn’t see him move, you just saw his hand break through the mans sternum and rip his beating heart out of his chest. As soon as you saw his face, his eyes, you bolted.

“I’m scared, Eli. I miss you. I’m scared that I miss you and a thousand other things. I need you.”

You look at the dress hanging on the back of your door. At one point it was a delicate, pale pink number. It had off the shoulder straps that, really, had no point but were beautiful. There was satin cream ribbon to lace up the back and the sweetest of sweetheart necklines. Now it was splattered in blood, the satin ribbons stained. One of the sleeves had ripped when you ran. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever owned and it was ruined in less than an hour. Fairytales were supposed to end at midnight, not nine o'clock.

“I wish you would come over.” You mean it.

You just want him to explain. To show up and sweep you off your feet and tell you that he won’t hurt you. You shouldn't even need the reassurance. You know him. That's your Elijah. Somewhere deep down you know that. But it's not making you any less afraid right now. He had been protecting you, but no one has ever ripped out a heart for you before. You’re allowed to be afraid of new things. You’re allowed to be afraid of things that are frightening. That’s what being human is. You still feel like a traitor, though, when you feel afraid of Elijah.

Your voice is silent in the darkness, “I wish you could hear me. Come over, Elijah.”

Your phone beeped. You pick it up in time to read the screen. Call ended.

I told you I wouldn't call, I told you I wouldn't care

But baby climbing the walls gets me nowhere

Call ended. Call ended 12:43. Twelve minutes and forty-three seconds. Elijah had been on the phone with you for almost thirteen minutes. Crap.

You think about how far away the Mikaelson mansion is from your apartment. Twenty minutes tops, and that’s your driving. Elijah’s driving? Ten, if you’re lucky. You could try to reason with yourself. Maybe he hadn't heard you. Maybe he doesn't want to see you. Maybe he hung up because he got tired of hearing you whine. You can’t help the dry laugh that falls from your lips. It’s Elijah. You probably only have five minutes now.

You jump to your feet and begin making your bed, your pulse thumping loud once more in your ears. He’s been in your apartment before, but that was when he was just Elijah. Not the Elijah with fangs and black eyes. Now he’s different. Mysterious. Who knows what he’s seen. What he’s done. You never thought your apparent was shabby by any means but would he? You know your life can’t compare to the wonders he’s most definitely seen.

You move to the kitchen, which is, by default, the living room as well, and begin picking up mugs and newspapers and anything else out of order that you can see. You sneak a quick glance out your kitchen window, into the parking lot below, just in time to see a sleek black car speed into one of the only available spots left. You can hear the engine purr from your fourth floor apartment. You know exactly whose car that is and thus aren't surprised when Elijah Mikaelson steps out from the drivers side and slams the door shut, not even bothering to lock the door. You gasp at the bang the metal makes and his head whips up, his eyes locking with yours from the ground.

You close your eyes for just a second. There's no way he could have heard that. When you look back to the ground, he’s gone. Before you can sigh there's a knock at the door.

I don’t think that I can take this bed getting any colder

Come over, come over, come over, come over, come over

You move to the door but you don’t open it. You place your palm on the wood trim and try to picture the man on the other side. He’ll look like Elijah. He’ll smell like Elijah and probably talk like Elijah, too. But is he still the same Elijah?

“Y/n, I know you’re there, open the door. Please?” His voice sounds the same, his accent penetrating the barrier between you and tickling your ears.

“Elijah,” your voice is but a whisper and you know you should be the only one who can hear it, “I’m scared.”

“I know, love, that’s ok. I won’t hurt you, though, and I need you to open the door. I just- I need to see you,” his voice cracks, just barely but it’s there.

That’s all it takes for you to slide the lock and open the door. In front of you, for the second time tonight, is a man you don’t recognize. He doesn’t have fangs and his eyes are his usual deep brown but they look shattered. His hair, usually styled to perfection, is a mess, like he had been running his hands through it for the past few hours. His suit jacket is gone, leaving him in slacks and the dress shirt he had been wearing at the ball, only now it’s untucked and the sleeves are rolled haphazardly up his arms. Elijah Mikaleson looks disheveled and you’re terrified again because this Elijah, hurt and upset, looks further from himself than the Elijah from the garden.

“Eli-”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. God, I’m so fucking sorry,” his voice shakes as he stands in your doorway, “please let me explain, baby.”

You swallow at his words. Baby. That's new.

“Eli, you know you can come in whenever you want,” your eyes look to the ground, feigning interest in the knots of your hardwood floor.

“I want to hear you say it,” you can feel his eyes burning into your lowered head, “I need to hear that you want me to come in, Y/n.”

This time it’s your voice that breaks, “of course I want you to come in Elijah.”

He sighs and steps over the threshold, standing mere feet away from you. You feel so small next to him in nothing but a pair of plaid sleep shorts and plain tank top. Your bare feet, for the first time since getting home, are cool against the floor.

He reaches to touch you and you flinch away, “baby, god, no. Please don’t be afraid.”

Your chest aches at the scared look in his eyes and all you want to do is run into his arms but you need answers.

“What happened back there, Elijah?” You feel pathetic at how quiet your voice still is.

“He wanted to hurt me, torture me. And he knew he couldn't. So he went for you, because he knew I would retaliate,” his eyes land on yours and you can see that he still wants to rip that man limb from limb, “he was a werewolf, Y/n. He wanted you dead, I had to do it.”

He sinks to his knees, his voice dropping lower and lower until the last words are just whispers. His words ring in your ears again. Werewolf. A werewolf wanted you dead. You felt faint.

“Why was a,” you say the word carefully, “werewolf trying to hurt you?”

“Because I'm a vampire, Y/n,” his voice breaks fully this time.

You don’t know what to do. Not with the rapid beating of your heart nor the new information you’ve just acquired and especially not with the crying Mikaelson on his knees in your hallway. Your Elijah, the man who pulls your chair out at restaurants and opens your doors and always has a hand on you when you’re around his brothers, is a vampire. You’re not even sure what that means, there are so many questions running through your mind. You want to ask each and every one of them but, seeing the man in front of you, somehow now doesn’t feel like the right time.

Your heart flutters looking at Elijah. His hands are in his hair again, pulling desperately on the strands. Your heart falls into a thousand tiny pieces at the sight. How can you be afraid of someone being so openly vulnerable to you. No man has ever gotten on his knees for you. No one has ever begged on their knees for you. It’s breathtaking, all you need to push yourself into him and wrap your arms around his neck.

“You should be terrified of me y/n,” he chokes into your chest, “I’m not good for you. I'm a monster, baby.”

His words shred at your heart. You run your fingers through his hair, smoothing the soft locks beneath your fingers.

“No you’re not. You're still my Elijah.”

His head lifts from your chest and he captures your eyes with his serious ones. He looks awestruck.

“Your Elijah?” His accent is even thicker with all the emotion.

You smile for the first time in many hours, “of course, Eli.”

He sweeps you up and into his arms so quickly you get dizzy. Before you know what’s happened, he has you sat on your kitchen island and he’s standing between your legs. Your arms are still clinging tight to his neck while his hands hang dangerously low on your hips.

“And you’re mine, Y/n.”

His words makes your body sing, “All yours.”

He closes his eyes, his hands tightening deliciously on your hips, “say it again. Please, baby.”

“I’m yours Elijah. I’ve always been yours.”

His lips crash hungrily onto yours. He wraps his arms around your lower back and you tangle your legs around his waist to avoid falling off the countertop. He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down harshly before soothing the sting with his tongue. You're enamoured with this side of Elijah. You’ve seen his gentleman side, it was magnificent, but this side of him? It was everything you didn't know you needed.

He pulls back, only putting a fraction of space between your bodies but it feels like too much, “please don’t run from me again.”

Your lips brush his when you speak, “Never, Eli.”

He pulls your mouth back to his, a hand tangled in your hair tugging gently at the roots. You can’t but moan against his lips and squeeze your legs around his waist. You grab blindly at his shirt, trying desperately to undo the buttons. Your fingers fumble and he chuckles into your mouth. He releases you to pull his shirt off, dropping it mindlessly on the floor, his lips never leaving yours.

His chest is sculpted like the finest marble and you can’t resist running your hands over his skin. He feels strong under your fingertips. He lets out a groan as you slide them back to his shoulders to the nape of his neck. His lips move over your jaw, down your neck, kissing and sucking a trail to your throat.

His hands grip the edge of your tank top bunching the material in his fists, “may I?”

Always the gentleman.

You nod your head before the words can leave your mouth, “please.”

He smirks, his eyes shining, as he begins pulling the tank top tantalizingly slow up your chest. You raise your arms over your head with his movements, lowering them back to his torso when he drops your shirt with his. His chocolate eyes meet yours again, seeking permission. You can’t fight the small smile as you nod. His smile that greets yours is breathtaking.

His eyes flick down, taking in your bare chest like a child in a candy store. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, much like he did to yours only moments ago. His hands slide up the curve of your waist, trailing a new kind of fire wherever he touches. His thumbs graze the sides of your breasts and you just barely stop the moan, closing your eyes to regain the little control you have left.

“I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again, you’re stunning Y/n. Absolutely beautiful.”

Before you can process it, his mouth is around your breast, pulling your nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. It sends a spark of electricity to the deepest part of your stomach, building an ache that you’ve felt before but stronger. Blinding. It’s white hot. You don’t try to stop the moans, you don’t want to. His tongue swirls around your breast, teasingly slow, making you feel every little movement. It’s dangerously addictive.

“Elijah,” you breath his name like oxygen.

His lips let you go, moving down your chest, trailing kisses down your abdomen, pulling praises from your lips as he goes. His eyes find yours when he sinks to his knees for the second time tonight. His hands grasp your shorts, covering your hips easily. You’re a wanton mess in front of him, practically fully undone from the simplest of touches.

“What do you want me to do, baby, you have to tell me what you want.” It's good to know he’s breathless too.

“Eli, I-” you moan as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, sucking gently at the skin, his eyes still locked on yours, “I want you.”

He pulls his lips back, “you want me to do what, baby?”

You groan at the devilish smirk on his handsome face, “I want you to kiss me!”

“As you wish.”

He pulls your shorts off first, slowly dragging them down your legs, kissing all the way down and back up again. When you're left in nothing but your panties he presses the first kiss to you. It’s hot and sends shocks throughout your entire body.

“More, now. Please, Elijah.”

He chuckles but does as told, pulling the remaining material down your legs before hooking your legs over his muscular shoulders. He wastes no time attaching his lips to your sex, sucking delightfully. He swirls his tongue over your clit, stoking the fire building in your stomach. He drags his tongue down your slit for what feels like an eternity before he plunges into you. You throw your head back and close your eyes, mumbling praises into oblivion. You can feel his eyes on you, soaking up every inch of you.

Your hands find his hair again, not seeming to want to be apart from him, “god.”

“That's not my name, baby,” he mumbles against you, stopping his ministrations.

You open your eyes and lock them with his waiting ones, drawing his name out in your best attempt at being seductive, “Elijah.”

His eyes darken but this time you aren't scared. No, this time his eyes make him look dominant. Sexy. His tongue attacks your clit again only this time faster and hungrier. It makes the fire in your stomach white hot. He’s unrelenting, bringing you closer to the edge with every pass of his tongue. He's pouring everything he has into pleasuring you and you can feel it, literally. You squeeze your thighs around him tighter, ready to explode

“Come for me, baby.”

With that you fall into something you’ve heard about but never thought possible. All you can see, all you can feel, is Elijah. He consumes all of your senses as you fall apart, over and over again, under his touch. In the midst of falling apart you catch Elijah’s eyes and fall all over again. He looks like he’s in pure bliss watching you come undone because of him. You know in all your falling you murmur his name more than once. You know that he loves it.

As you come down from your high, you go to unwrap your legs from his neck, only to have him wrap you around his waist and pick you up. You can’t help but giggle at his determined look.

When he starts walking toward your bedroom you ask, “what’s on your mind, Eli?”

“Round two,” you giggle again when he kisses your forehead.

“I'm glad you came over, Elijah.”