#ANYMORE???? NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU' and like even ignoring the massive glaring problems

[the-iceni-bitch]

I Long to Be

Pairing: Mr Freezy x hit woman!reader (kitten), Officer Bill x hit woman!reader (PG only for now)

Words: ~2.1k

Summary: Your new dynamic has Bobby ready to explode.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, over the pants hand job, dry humping, mentions of oral and penetrative sex), emotional manipulation, reader is a massive bitch, slightly subby Bobby (what?!?!), cheating adjacent, domestic violence as foreplay, inappropriate behavior at a funeral, gossipy neighbors, SMUT!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: This is mostly just setting the stage for the next arc I’m gonna do with our murderers but whoo boy are you sluts in for a treat! Sorry for inflicting the stache on you, but I’m just gonna lean into it.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!!!

You moaned softly when Bobby pulled you back against his chest, the hand that wasn’t digging into your tit buried knuckle deep in your cunt from behind as he stroked your walls slowly.

“No marks.” You ordered when you felt his teeth scrape over your pulse, ignoring the snarl he shot you through the mirror before settling for licking a thick stripe up the side of your neck. “Don’t fucking pout at me, pretty sure even those dumb fucks out there would notice if I walked out there with a hickey. Control yourself.”

“You need to quit being a fucking bitch.” He growled when you squeezed his cock before starting to stroke it through his slacks again. “It’s been five days, if I don’t feel that warm snatch wrapped around me soon, I’m gonna fucking kill someone.”

“Then you’ll just have to wait even longer, Bobby. I told you, we’re gonna drill some fucking self control into you.” You rolled your hips into his hand when his palm ground into your clit, dropping your head back against his shoulder and purring when you felt his cock throbbing under your palm. “Plus, I’m still pissed at you for the unbelievable pile of bull shit I had to dig you out of.”

“But… fuck, kitten.” He buried his face in your hair to cover his groan when you squeezed him again, bucking his hips into your grip and tugging softly at your nipple as you brought him towards his peak. “I fucking need it. You can just suck on the tip a little, just tide me over, I’m fucking dying.”

“You’re fucking dramatic, I’m still letting you come, so quit being a bitch.” You felt warmth bloom under your hand and smirked at him, your pussy sucking on his fingers as he started fucking them into you harder until you came with a broken sob.

“You goddamn cunt.” He looked furious when you pulled away from him, growling when you wrenched out of his grip to straighten your dress out. “I swear to god, you keep fucking holding out on me and I’m gonna split you in half in front of those cunts until you’re bleeding and begging me to stop.”

“No you’re not.” You shoved your tits back into your dress and did up the buttons. “You’re gonna play the grieving husband and father for as long as I tell you, and once I feel like the fucking heat has died down enough, maybe then you can get your dick wet. But until that happens, you’ll just have to settle for hands and dry humping. Now shut up and try to look wrecked.”

He didn’t have to try, he was wrecked. Dealing with your constant teasing without being able to actually fuck you had him feeling like his nerves were frayed to the limit, and topping that off with having to play the tormented widower was testing the self control you were adamant he exercise. There hadn’t even been any jobs for him to redirect his pent up rage, so he was stuck settling for furiously jerking himself every night as he longed for your perfect, warm cunt.

You gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before opening the door and heading back out to the wake, not bothering to fix your face as it fit the narrative that Bobby had been comforting you while you cried yourself out. With how haggard he was, your stupid cunt neighbors had no problem accepting when you told them that you and Bobby had been supporting each other through this tough time. 

Bobby’s jaw was clenched tight as he stood at the edge of his living room, barely paying attention to the twats who kept coming up to him to tell him how sorry they were for his loss while he watched you act like the perfect grieving friend. You shot him a glare when he tried to move closer to you, hiding your smirk behind your drink and leaning against the wall when he accepted another unwanted embrace like a good little widower.

“Hi, Suzy?” You had to act quick to school your face when you turned and found the fucking cop who had flirted with you at the damn crime scene standing there, you had not expected to see him again.

“Officer Bill!” You caught Bobby start out of the corner of your eye, shooting him a glance to settle him before turning back to your surprising visitor. “Robert’s just over there, did you need to talk to him about something? I thought everything was closed.”

“It is, and please just call me Bill.” He gave you a nervous smile and stepped a little closer to you, fidgeting with his hands as he struggled with what to say to you. “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you and I know these things tend to put all the focus on the family but I wanted to make sure you were ok? Since she was your best friend, I’m sure things are hard.”

Oh shit. Your flirting had worked a little too well, this boy was sweet on you. It took some doing for you to fight the pleased smile that tried to spread across your face, especially when you caught Bobby glaring at you over the cop’s shoulder when the man reached and gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. 

“It’s been so hard.” You gave a small sob and could have laughed when he drew you into his chest, burying your face in the warm planes of muscle as he did his best to comfort you. “I feel so alone now. I’d usually talk to Mary about this, but now I have no one. Maybe I could talk to Robert but he’s suffering so much worse than me, I don’t want to burden him any more.”

“God, you’re so sweet, honey.” You managed to disguise your snort as another sob, pressing your body close to his and trying not to grin when he settled his hands at the small of your back, “You can talk to me, Suzy.”

“Bill, you just met me.” This was working out great for you; a dumb cop who was already wrapped around your finger and a new way to piss off Bobby, what could be better? “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Baby, no, never.” He gave you a soft smile when you lifted your head to meet his gaze, cupping your face in one massive palm and gently brushing his thumb over the curve of your cheek in an effort to soothe you. “I just wanna help, but we don’t have to do anything you don’t want, ok?”

“Okay.” You leaned into his cheek and sighed softly as you batted your eyelashes at him, it had been a while since you had played this game, but seems like you were still a fucking pro. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, darlin’.” You let him give your waist a squeeze before stepping back, your eyes finding Bobby’s and narrowing at the look of unbridled rage you found there until he was cowed. “There’s a little bakery near here if you wanna have some privacy.”

He nodded towards the gaggle of housewives that was watching you with interest while the rest of your neighbors started filtering home and you sighed, accepting his hand and letting him lead you towards the front door while you gave Bobby one more warning glance to keep him from doing something stupid. As soon as the door closed behind you the busybodies went crazy, whisper shouting at each other as they tried to keep some semblance of decorum while they packed up all the leftovers and helped Bobby clean up, or rather, did all the cleaning while Bobby started downing scorch like it was his job.

Thirty minutes later and he was finally alone, exhausted from all the unwanted hugs and sympathies he had to endure and wanting nothing more than to lose himself in you. But he couldn’t because you were still out with that fucking cop. He sulked in the chair at the front window, watching your house as he slowly drained the bottle of scotch and tried to keep himself from imagining what you might be doing with that fucker.

By the time the bastard’s car finally pulled up in front of your house an hour later, the bottle was empty, Bobby wallowing in a pool of self pity that he never would have admitted to and growling when he watched the officer help you out of the car and lead you to your front door with an arm around your waist. When he watched him give you a peck on the cheek he almost lost it, dropping the bottle and cursing when he heard it smash against the floor. At least you didn’t invite him inside, sending him on his way with a little wave before strolling into your house without a second glance. 

Bobby waited a few minutes after the cocksucker pulled away before storming over to your place, barely keeping himself together until he was able to knock on your front door. 

“Hey there, Bobby.” You gave him a wicked grin when you opened the door, stepping aside and letting him in. 

“The fucking cop?” He was itching to slap you, or maybe choke you, he was absolutely furious.

“Bobby, Bobby, Bobby.” You shoved him a little and snorted when he stumbled slightly. “Drunk again. What the fuck am I gonna do with you?”

“Fuck me.” He was so drunk he didn’t even care anymore, grabbing you by the back of your neck and dragging your face to his until his lips were devouring yours.

“Jesus, did I fucking break you, Bobby?” You chuckled when he growled in response and shoved you against the wall, grinding his hardened cock into your hip as he tried to wrap his hands around your throat. “No fucking marks! God, still haven’t learned, have you?”

Your slap sent him reeling, the only thing that kept him upright being your tight grip on his collar as you watched him with mock concern. He tried to snarl at you when you gripped his jaw in one hand, shaking his head with a demeaning tut before leaning forward to bite at his lips.

“You need to dump that fucking cop, kitten.” He purred into your mouth when you wound one leg around his hip and dragged him into you, letting him rock against you slowly with a low moan as his dick twitched in his pants.

“And you still need to fucking control yourself, instead of charging over to your single neighbor’s house like a bat out of hell right after your wife’s funeral when you know every fucking busybody in the neighborhood is gonna be watching us like a bunch of hawks.” You let him lift your other leg to wrap around him, pressing you into the wall and moaning into your neck as he ground right against your clit. “I’ll make you a deal Bobby; you manage to keep that temper of yours reined in and the neighbors off our backs for a whole month while I make that sweet, dumb cop fall in love with me, and I’ll let you do whatever he does to me, so you don’t combust.”

“You’re such a bitch.” His breath against your neck was desperate, the rhythm of his hips writhing against you growing frantic as you both neared your ends. “You let him fuck you and I don’t care, kitten, I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Aww, don’t worry baby, it’ll just be the tip.” You laughed when he snarled into your throat, forcing himself to pull back before he sank his teeth into you so you didn’t decide to torture him even more. “Look at you being so good, and I didn’t even mention your reward.”

“What is it?” Christ, you were just whipping men left and right today.

“Once I get that moron to give me his whole heart, I’ll let you help me break it.” He hit you at the perfect angle and you shuddered with bliss, your release soaking the front of his slacks as his own filled his briefs. “But in a way that keeps him wrapped around my little finger so we can use him if we need to.”

“Ugh, fuck. Fine.” He sighed defeatedly into your neck. “But if I haven’t had my dick sucked once by this time in two weeks, I’m getting a fucking toy.”

[miss-smutty]

Brothers - Chapter 11

Unforgiven

Summary- You're hit with the bombshell of Chris coming home after a month away and after he left you questioning everything, completely heartbroken. How were you meant to confront him after so long?

Word count- 2K

Pairing- Chris Hems x reader

Warnings- Swearing, a smidgen of violence

18+ only!

Posted: 3rd August 2021

Taglist:- @everything-is-awesomesauce @nicolemt23 @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @jjpogueprincess @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires

Brothers Masterlist <<<

You haven't felt like this about anyone for a very long time and Chris has just made your fear of rejection all too real. You couldn't help the way you felt about him though, still feel about him. You love him and he'd told you he loved you, you'd felt it when he'd said it, you'd seen the look in his eye. So why were you even questioning it? 

In the morning you finally felt the courage to check your phone - Liam had stayed with you all night until you'd calmed down enough to go to bed when the sun had rised and you were no longer taunted by your demons in the dark.

There's multiple text messages and missed calls filling up the screen of your phone. 

I'm sorry I had to leave like that, are you ok? Xx

Read the first one. Your eyes scanned over the rest, mostly saying the same thing.

Y/N please answer. Let me explain myself. I didn't have time to speak to Liam about it all right then and I didn't want to leave on a bombshell.

His excuses made you feel sick to your stomach. You could understand why he did it but there were much better ways for him to go about it that wouldn't have left you feeling heartbroken.

You sighed heavily, putting your phone back onto your bedside table a little bit too forcibly and sinking back into your feather pillows. If you gave in to your impulses you would've text him back straight away but knowing deep down that would be the wrong thing to do, you restrained yourself. It took willpower but you just about managed, he'd made you feel like shit there was no way you were going to forgive him so easily.

*********

As the weeks passed by it became more and more difficult to ignore Chris, he wasn't giving up without a fight which admittedly made you feel a little bit better. You'd ignored him for so long it had become a habit and the fact he wasn't giving in told you he definitely did care about you but he'd made a major mistake and you were going to make him pay.

"Have you spoke to Chris yet?" Liam asked you over lunch. 

"Nope." A sly smile played on your lips, you were kind of enjoying making Chris sweat but you'd never admit it.

"Maybe you should, he's been blowing my phone up trying to get in contact with you. You do know he's coming home this week?"

"What? You stopped with your fork in front of your lips, eyes wide. "No I did not know that, has it been a month already?"

"Uh-huh, and its gonna be massively fucking awkward for me if you two are still arguing." 

"We're not arguing..." You brush your hair behind your ear, sitting up straight in your chair. " We're not even speaking." 

The thought of Chris coming home fills you with dread and excitement all at the same time. You're so excited to see his face and yet dreading the thought of having to deal with your problems.

"When will he be home?" You ask, trying to be casual.

"I don't know, he just said this week. I haven't exactly been speaking to him myself, I'm still pissed off with him."

"And you didn't think to ask what day?.and why are you pissed off? He didn't do anything to you." Your voice was a little too high, it always was when you panicked. Chris could come home at any minute and you weren't mentally prepared for it.

"No, but don't you think him hurting you effects me? You've had a face like a slapped ass for a month for a start and if you want to know so badly why don't you call him?" Liam raised his eyebrows at you, unamused at the whole messenger thing he had going on.

"Pfft, I can't." You push your bowl of food away, suddenly not very hungry anymore. "It's been so long I wouldn't even know what to say." 

"Your drama is honestly making me go grey." Liam runs his hand through his hair, looking at you with raised eyebrows.

"I think you'd look pretty good as a silver fox." You tease.

"I would but still, please sort it out." He gives you the glare. "Anyway, I'm going to have a little get together tonight. You up for it?" 

"A get together or a party?" 

"Well you know how it usually goes, it starts off as a get together but usually turns in to a party." 

"Exactly, well I'm off out with the girls so we'll be there later." 

You finished up your meals, Liam refusing for you to pay as usual, he was such a gentleman, you really wish his brother was a little bit more like him in that way. 

*********

You help Liam greet his guests, smiling and mingling as you go. The ratio of women to men doesn't suprise you one bit, Liam was newly single after all but you roll your eyes anyway after leading yet another group of girls through to the living room.

You watched Liam greeting the girls with the most genuine smile on his face than you'd seen in a while, he was happy, finally and it brought you great pleasure.

Your heart stops beating when you hear Chris's distinctive Australian accent carry above the noise in the room, you can feel his eyes burning into your back as you turn around to find him. Your tummy fluttering when your eyes meet, unable to hide how much you've actually missed him from your face. He smiles sheepishly at you making your tummy somersault, excusing himself politely from the group of girls that had circled around him and making his way over to you, when Liam steps in his way, blocking his path.

"I don't want to make a scene here but you've got some serious explaining to do." Liam says sternly.

"I know... I... I wasn't honest with you before I left." 

"That's putting it lightly. Y/N told me everything." You watched the exchange between the brothers, your nerves going into overdrive. You could hear Liam's friend talking to you but you weren't focusing on him, his words just a distant noise, your attention solely on the brothers. Brothers who looked like they were about to fight. Because of you.

"What are you, her bodyguard? If there's anyone I need to answer to it's Y/N, are you gunna let me past?" You watched as Chris' jaw tensed, the muscles in his neck becoming more prominent and you knew things were getting heated.

"If you're gunna treat her like shit Chris then yeah I am, the manly thing to do was come clean. It was a pussy move and you know it." People were starting to watch and your cheeks were burning but you were routed to the spot. Unable to move all you could do was stare blankly.

"Are you calling me a pussy?"

"Yeah, I'm calling you a fucking pussy." Liam shoved Chris square in his chest, he barely moved but his jaw clenched together, the tendons in his neck straining with rage.

Why, why, why were you stood watching this and not doing something about it? Your two favourite people in the whole world were about to fight each other and you're stood watching like it's a fucking soap opera.

You could see Chris thinking, debating about what he should do. Should he give his brother a free pass - he did deserve it, or should he fight back - he'd already called him a pussy he didn't want people actually believing it. 

He decided to let it go, moving past him to get to you when Liam shoved him again, this time he wasn't expecting it and almost fell over, recovered himself and then went for Liam. Your mouth hung open, your legs started moving before you registered what was happening.

"Stop! Please stop!" You screamed, Liam's friends coming to the rescue and holding them both back. Tears in your eyes at the thought of them fighting each other

You looked up at Liam's friend holding Chris back. "It's ok, I've got him." You took Chris by the hand, leading him away from Liam, weaving through the crowd that had gathered, pissed off that they'd caused such a scene in public but you needed to get them away from each other so they could both calm down.

Chris walked into your room and you closed the door behind him, resting your head against it for a minute.

"What the fuck was that?" You question, turning around to face him.

"Don't ask me, what exactly did you say to Liam while I was gone?" 

"Are you really trying to blame me? I told him the truth Chris, like you should've done." He hung his head in shame. His elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands.

"Yeah I know but let me explain."

"I haven't got time for it now." You start shuffling through your wardrobe. "I need to get ready." You say with your back to him.

"Ready for what?"

"I'm going out with the girls." You turn around slowly, looking at him, taking him all in. You've missed him so much, why does he have to be so damn attractive.

Then he gives you that sexy smile and your knees almost cave but you remind yourself of the things he said, willing yourself to stay angry with him.

"Do you have to go? I've only just got back." You start going through your wardrobe, if you had your back to him you could distract yourself from the heavy sexual tension between you. The need to run up to him and wrap you legs around him, telling him all was forgiven while you kissed every inch of his damn fine body. 

"Yeah I'm going. You don't get to treat me like that and then just come back and act like nothings happened." 

"Y/N can you please stop being so stupid, this is ridiculous." He said sitting down on the end of your bed with his head in his hands.

"I'm being stupid? Are you for real?" You take off your clothes until you're left in just your underwear, turning around to look at him with your hands on your hips.

"Ok sorry that was the wrong thing to say, I've been trying to speak to you every day for a month. Did you not miss me?" He looks up, his eyes widening when he sees you in your underwear.

"You're always saying the wrong thing aren't you?" Now can you leave, I need to get ready and I want to do it in peace." You point to the door, your hand falling limply by your side when you watch Chris licking his lips, his eyes focusing everywhere but your face.

"Do you have to go? I think I can find a way of making you forgive me." 

"You can't just fuck your way outta this one Chris, I'm not a toy for you to do as you please with." 

"You're so hot when you're angry... I'm really trying not to fuck you senseless right now." He bites on his fist watching your anger falter.

"We're just friends aren't we?" You say rather bitterly

"We're not just friends and you fucking know it, friends don't do this shit -" he says as he moves in front of you, his hands wrapping around you and resting on your plump cheeks. "I told you I loved you and I fucking meant it. Can we please forget what I said? I didn't think about it until after I'd said it and I tried to call you straight away to apologize."

"Do what?" You reply trying to keep your calm as his hands electrify your body.

He cups your ass and lifts you into his arms, you instinctively wrap your legs around his hard torso. He lays you back onto the bed and kisses you deep, his tongue desperately finding yours as he thrusts his bulge into your tingling pussy. Your body betrays you as you let out a low moan, you feel him groan from deep inside as his prehistoric nature takes over.

"That." he says breathlessly.

"I'm still going out tonight but I'll be back later." You say between him kissing down your neck, savouring every last inch of your taste. "You can think about how you can make it up to me while I'm gone and before that you better go grovel to Liam, I think he's even more pissed off than me."

"Oh baby, you're not even going to know your own name by the time I'm finished with you never mind anything else." 

"This doesn't mean you're forgiven, this means I'm giving you a chance." 

[kaistarus]

College Drop-Out

Pairing: NishinoyaXReader

Words:  1.6K

Summary: When Noya shows up in the middle of the night unprompted you’re more than surprised at the news he brings with him.

A/N: angsty >:D but it’s me so is it really? lol

Masterlist

A strange vibration pulled you out of your deep slumber. You whined as you smoothed your hand across your mattress aimlessly searching for what caused the annoyance. When your fingers glided across the soft cotton sheet to land on your cell phone your frustration hit its peak.

You pulled it down, squinting at the blinding screen that shone Nishinoya’s contact against your room’s pitch-black darkness. You swept the red circle to end your suffering and snuggled back into your cocoon of warmth. Whatever Nishinoya wanted at nearly three in the morning he could deal with himself.

The cellphone began vibrating a second time and with clenched teeth you sent him to voicemail again without opening your eyes.

But when your phone vibrated a third time you violently slid the green circle across the screen before shouting into the receiver, “Noya, it is two in the morning what the hell do you-”

“I can’t believe you sent me to voicemail,” Nishinoya sounded offended and you let out a pathetic muffled whine against your pillow.

“I’m trying to sleep.” You glared blankly at the apartment window across yours-their lights all off stave a few. You envied the ones lucky enough to be sleeping. “What do you want.”

“You’re already sleeping on a Saturday?” Nishinoya questioned.

“Already? It’s nearly two a.m, Noya.” You scoffed while straining to hear the gusts of wind on his side of the line. “Where are you?”

“Outside.”

“Obviously, I mean where outside?”

“Outside-outside,” he unhelpfully clarified. “I’m outside your apartment.”

You blinked several times before shooting up in bed, “what?”

“It’s really cold out. Could you let me in?”

You hopped out of bed and moved toward your closet, sliding into your simplest pair of shoes and rushing to the hall. “This better not be a prank, Noya.”

“It’s not,” he said as you impatiently jabbed the elevator button. “I wanted snacks from the gas station, but I must have taken a wrong turn back because I ended up here.”

“Wrong turn?” You furrowed in confusion when the elevator finally arrived. “Noya, I’m a thirty minute walk from your place.”

“Oh, right.”

You felt your cheeks warm when you stepped out of the elevator to find him standing in the vestibule. His hair had been whipped around by the wind and was a chaotic mess; you could tell he looked exhausted, but still managed a bright smile when he lifted a plastic bag filled with various snacks.

You rolled your eyes and let him in without hesitation, taking the bag from his grasp the moment he stepped through the glass doors.

“Thanks,” he mumbled while shuffling toward the elevator. You eyed him uncertainly, but followed him closely as he pressed the buttons that would take you both to your apartment.

“Are you okay?” You asked when the normally nonexistent awkward silence became too intense to ignore. He followed you hesitantly into your apartment, completely oblivious that you’d even asked a question until you’d turned to face him in your kitchen when the door swung shut. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” He said, avoiding your eyes.

You rolled yours and took the snack bag to your couch with a yawn, “you’re acting weird.”

“I’m always weird.”

“True, but this is a different weird.” You sat cross-legged, digging through the bag and pulling out a soda-you figured you’d need the caffeine to deal with whatever was happening. “Something’s clearly wrong.”

“No.” He sat down across from you on the floor and hugged his knees to his chest. “Well, maybe. I don’t know actually.”

Your eyes softened at his nervous expression that didn’t fit his confident persona, “you can tell me anything. Promise.”

He took a deep breath, making determined eye-contact before announcing, “I’m dropping out.”

You blinked once. Twice. “What the fuck?”

“I hate everything about college. I’m not good at it and it stresses me out and makes me depressed and I…” His eyes fell toward the floor. “I can’t do it anymore.”

You knew Nishinoya hated it here. Every time you studied for exams you could see the light draining from his eyes, and he spent more time finding ways to procrastinate than actually doing his homework. You didn’t know it was to the point that he wanted to drop out though.

“What are you goin-”

“Travel.” His lips quipped into a half-smile. “It’s what I’ve always wanted to do, so I’m just gonna fucking do it. Fuck college. This place sucks.”

You allowed a soft smile. How very Nishinoya to decide ‘fuck college’ because ‘this place sucked’ and start traveling the world. You scanned his determined expression and nodded.

“Okay.”

“I know, it sounds ridiculous but maybe if you sleep on it you’ll understand why-” He raised his brow. “Wait, huh?”

“I said, okay.” Your smile widened the more the idea settled in your head. “Dropping out should be easy enough, but I think the bigger problem will be getting money.”

He stared at you wondrously while you spoke which made you a little uncomfortable.

“My grandpa knows someone in Italy. They said they can get me set up there with a job and everything, so that’s where I’m gonna start.” He said while avoiding your eyes.

“Oh, you have a plan.” Your stomach knotted at the news, but you smiled through it. “Do you know when you want to go because subleasing can be-”

“I’m in love with you and I want you to come with me.”

Your mouth hung open and you stared at him with wide eyes. His face was bright red as he watched your reaction with baited breath. As you continued staring at him in stunned silence he cleared his throat and put his hands between you both as if calming a startled animal.

“Okay, um, you look like you’re panicking.”

You nodded, giving him a once-over and scooting further into the couch away from him.

“Let me try again,” Nishinoya took a deep breath before nodding. “I would very much like to suggest that you also dropped out of college, so that we may travel together.”

“Nishinoya, I don’t think that’s-”

“Also I’m in love with you.”

“I heard that part.”

He sent you fingers guns and quickly averted his eyes. You stared down at your hands and urged your sleep deprived brain to work faster on a solution, but this was a massive info dump. You locked onto his nervous amber eyes, now curiously watching you, and sighed before patting the spot beside you on the couch.

Nishinoya looked at it confused but crawled forward and climbed up beside you. This had never been how you expected everything to go, but with Nishinoya you shouldn’t have planned things to be normal.

“We’re just going to speed this up,” you took a deep breath and grabbed the sides of his face, forcing him to face you. You ignored the way your heart raced against your chest when his cheeks turned a deep shade of red. “I like you,” and before his smile could get too wide you continued. “But I’m not dropping out.”

His shoulders dropped and you could see the heartbreak in his eyes, “but why?”

You rattled your brain for the exact reason because you knew it existed, but it was really hard to find when the boy you liked was rubbing small circles gently against your knee while begging you to travel the world with him.

“I only have a year left,” you settled on while he placed a steady hand atop yours, “and I don’t think I’m ready for something like that.”

His eyes searched intensely for something in yours before he quietly asked, “what about after you graduate?”

You half-smiled and gently pressed your forehead against his. “You know I can’t promise you something that far away. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“You’re the only good thing about this place,” he groaned frustrated. “I don’t want to leave you behind.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you teased, but there was no bite in your words. Your chest was already aching at the realization that you’d be losing him--all-nighters at the library, college parties and being carried home, drunken fast food trips, random late night visits, surprise post-final celebrations--all of him.

As if mirroring your sinking dread, Nishinoya wrapped his arms around your midsection and pulled you closer, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

“You need to go though,” you said, pressing your cheek against the top of his head. “You’re right. This place isn’t good for you.”

He nodded in silent agreement.

“Things will work out.” You smiled slightly as he tightened his hold on you. “We’ll be okay.”

He nodded with a shaky breath in response. You closed your eyes and relaxed in his hold for the time you had. You knew your words were the truth-Nishinoya did too. Even if it wasn’t in the way you wanted right then you would both be okay.

Nishinoya would leave and with enough time you would become a distant memory for him. For you it would become the same. He would be successful and happy in his own way because that’s what he did, he was good at what he set his mind to. And you would move on to what you needed.

But you could live in this right now. Pretend you would have had something if your futures aligned differently. Maybe only these few minutes. Maybe for the night. For however long you’d allow yourself these feelings with him. But for now it could be enough.

It was enough.

[petri808]

We’ll Take Back Heaven a Nalu Yakuza Au

1 | 2

—

The moment Lucy left the room, Natsu simply turned and gave a silent look to his lieutenant Gray who nodded back in acknowledgment and left with one of the men. He sat back in his chair, fingers steepled below his chin in thought. Could it really be one of his own men? Some of the lower level guys didn’t always follow the rules, but it was rare for them to utterly disregard them! Oh! That really pissed him off, because they knew better then to test Natsu’s patience. There’s a damn good reason he was able to create such a lucrative gang in the heart of Tokyo when so many others would kill for it. By the age of 21, his father retired and left the position of Oyabun leader to Natsu. But, Natsu wasn’t satisfied with the old way of doing things. This was the 21st century and times must change.

It was well known that the Yakuza traversed a dangerous underworld full of illegalities. Drugs, prostitution, gambling, shake downs and extortion, theft, or in other words the seedier side of society. So that is where Natsu focused his attention. Some of the very first of the changes were to reign in unauthorized violence or any crimes that utilized it. Such a move sent a utter shockwave through the order and those that refused to let go of the old ways were swiftly eliminated to instill an image of power and fear that Natsu Dragneel was not to be messed with. His logic behind the move was simple. Do not do anything that brings attention to the gang and attacking someone on the street for a few yen is a quick way for the authorities to show up. So, in a way, Natsu was lucky it happened to be one of Lucy’s employees and not a random person, because they would have immediately called the police. Though it also brought up another question. Were there other crimes he just hadn’t heard of yet?

“Well, she’s still as feisty as ever, gihi.” Gajeel broke the silence of the room when he returned. “Could’ve cut the sexual tension with a sword.”

Natsu crossed his arms in feigned annoyance. If it were any other underling, they would have received a harsher response, but Gajeel was one of his oldest and trusted friends. “Pfft. I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s a rival, that’s it. You know that.”

“Mmhmm.” Gajeel snickered. “So, now what?”

“Gray started working on finding who it was. I want you to call your contacts at police and see if they’ve had any reports of recent robberies in the area, and if there were, any details we can use to figure out who it might be.”

“Can do boss. Anything else?”

“You think it could one of our own?”

Gajeel looked up for a couple of minutes as if he were running their personnel through his mind. Finally, he rubbed his chin. “There’s a couple of newbies, a bit young and dumb that might be stupid enough to break the rules. I’ll call my contacts first before helping Gray press the men for info. Someone’s gotta know something.”

“Good. You do that and let me know as soon as you get a lead. I want this dealt with as quickly as possible.”

“Gotcha.”

Between Natsu’s two lieutenants and their best men, they interviewed all of the most likely suspects. Gajeel’s police informant let him know that there were a couple other robberies that sounded similar a few blocks away from where Lucy’s employee and client had been accosted. He also learned those two victims gave a similar description of the robber. With the new information, along with other snitches, they narrowed it down within a few days to a low-level street guy in the organization. But unlike Gajeel’s initial hunch, it wasn’t one of the newbies. Instead, the male had been with them for a couple of years now and never caused any problems. In fact, the guy fashioned himself as a smooth talking ladies’ man who supposedly disliked violence. So, it was a bit surprising it was one of the ones they’d least expected.

Gajeel and his men found the man named Bora Prominence laying low at his girlfriend’s apartment after he’d heard the gang was looking for him. Not the smartest move. The woman gave him up without a fight, fearing the Yakuza more than her boyfriend. So, once she’d let them inside, they quickly found Bora hiding in the bathroom and dragged him out.

“It wasn’t me!” Bora screamed as the men beat him to the floor. “You got no proof I did shit!”

Gajeel planted his foot into the small of the man’s back and held him down. “Two of the witnesses saw the tattoo on your face. That’s enough evidence for us.” He growled. “You knew the code and what would happen if you broke it, so stop being a bitch.”

But Bora continued to resist the four men, pushing off the floor with his arms unsuccessfully against Gajeel’s massive weight or fending off kicks from the others. They pummeled him with fists and kicks over and over until one clear blow finally knocked him unconscious long enough to be tied up. Despite a heavy beating bad enough to leave him bruised and bloodied, he continued to scream about his innocence. Back at headquarters, they dragged him into Natsu’s office with hands bound behind his back and forced him onto his knees.

The room held Natsu sitting at his desk, along with both lieutenants, four of their men keeping Bora restrained, and lastly Lucy with the victim to Natsu’s right side. He had contacted her as soon as he knew the suspect was being brought in. And thought they were pretty certain of guilt, the woman’s immediate reaction when they’d brought Bora in of cringing back and moving closer to her boss spoke volumes.

“Is that him?” Natsu questioned to gain a verbal confirmation.

“Y-Yeah,” the woman squeaked out. “He’s the one who pushed me down and robbed us.”

Natsu’s eyes stayed narrowed and glaring at Bora as he addressed the women. “Thank you, that’ll be all. Heartfilia you both can leave now I’ll handle things from here.”

“You’re a doll,” Lucy giggled and gave Natsu a quick teasing peck on the cheek before ushering her employee away. They’d done what they needed to do, now it was his job to finish it.

“Tch, so that’s what this is all about.” Bora sneered, spitting out a clot of blood. “Cause that bitch got you all worked up over a measly few bucks?”

“Watch it!” Natsu roared. “It ain’t a good idea to piss me off anymore then I already am!” There was a fire burning behind Natsu’s stare because when he looked at this man Bora, he doesn’t see the crimes themselves, but the disobedient threat he posed to their organization. How dare this selfish ignorant punk threaten everything they’ve worked hard to build! And to accuse him of weakness in doing Lucy’s bidding just sealed the man’s fate.

Bora snapped back defiantly, though the crack in his tone gave away the fear brewing beneath. “What does it matter, I know what awaits me.”

“You’re right.” Natsu relaxed back into his chair once he sensed the man’s inevitable compliance. “You knew the consequences for crossing me. What does it matter if my rival is also benefiting in this way? Because I know there are other victims. Dumbass, how do you think we linked you to all this? Those other victims reported it to the police! Which is exactly why I have the rules I have in place! You put all of us in jeopardy by pulling this kind of stupid low level bullshit!”

“Pfft, you act like we’re saints. If the cops really wanted to, they’d look into the other illegal shit we do regardless.”

“No, it’s you who fails to recognize there is a hierarchy to the kinds of crimes that bring heat on us. Drugs? Prostitution? The cops don’t care as much, but assault? Robbing people, murders, now those are things they will pay attention to, and I will not tolerate it!” Natsu sat forward with a malevolent grin. “Welcome to the modern Yakuza.”

Drugs and prostitution were a part of the gangs dealings, but the bigger scheme was in shaking down the local business owners for protection money. Thing is, Natsu’s gang actually did the protection part causing crimes in that area for customers or businesses to drop down to nearly zero. So, while the business owners weren’t thrilled to cut a portion of their profits, they also appreciated not having to worry about security. That and because of the gangs connections, they had pipelines of cheaper priced products which helped to keep their costs down. This more symbiotic relationship is why they didn’t go to the authorities and why the gang could hold such a control over the area. Making sure the areas streets were protected from violent crime is a testament to the gangs power and would insure that these businesses stayed compliant.

“Tch.” Bora retorted. “You’re just young and dumb. Eventually you’ll realize there’s a reason why things were done a certain way in the old days.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but your days of worrying about it are over.” Natsu motioned to Gajeel. “I’m done. Get him out of my face.”

Gajeel then motioned to his men to haul Bora to his feet and drag him away to an unknown destination never to be seen from again. Cliche as it may sound, even in killing off a problem like Bora, Natsu’s gang didn’t follow tradition. Bora would be held as a prisoner until his wounds healed then his death made to look like just another suicide statistic. In the seven years that Natsu has reigned, not one murder had been laid at their doorstep and he intended to keep it that way.

Now that the Bora business was over, Natsu closed his eyes and fully relaxed into his chair with a sigh. He didn’t exactly enjoy playing the tough guy bit and only did it out of necessity. This was a life his father groomed him for since birth, but he’d love nothing more than to just settle down with a wife and start a family of his own. Not that he couldn’t already do so, but that required finding the right woman to settle down with and no one other than his old flame has ever evoked I’m him more than a passing glance.

He didn’t know how long he’d been relaxing when there was a knock on his office door. “Yeah? Come in.”

“Sorry to disturb you,” the man spoke as he quietly entered the room. Invel Yura was Natsu’s Saiko-kamon, the top advisor and managed the administrative side of the organization. “I wanted to go over your schedule for tomorrow in case I need to make any changes.”

“It’s fine.” Natsu gestured to the chair fronting the desk. Invel had been the advisor to his father for the last few years of his tenure and he fully trusted the man’s diligence.

Invel sat down and opened up a calendar. “Tomorrow morning, we have a new shipment of prescription drugs coming in as well as some ecstasy, so you’ll need to appoint someone to oversee inventory processing.”

“Hmm, who should I have work on this?” Natsu asked for Invel’s opinion.

“Might I suggest Rajeel Ramal? He’s gruff but meticulous and has done a good job so far.”

“Is that so? Then that’s fine, let him continue. What’s next?”

“Okay,” Invel scribbled the orders in his book. “Next, the only other thing you have is a party to attend with one of our high end clients.”

“Which one?”

“The son of Yuuji Katsunuma of Katsunuma industries.”

“Ah yes, the one we supply with cocaine. Such a spoiled brat, but he spends a lot with us.”

Invel chuckled. “That’s the one. It starts at 8pm.”

“Okay. Thank you, Invel. Is that all for now?”

“Yes. If anything, else comes up I will let you know.”

“I’m sure you will. Oh. Have an appropriate suit pressed and ready for me for the occasion.”

“Very well, sir. Is there anything else you need from me?”

“No. You may go.”

Invel nodded and returned to his own office. He made a few typical phone calls such as to Natsu’s house staff regarding an evening outfit and the transporters bringing the morning inventory to make sure everything was on schedule. Aside from the Bora issue, the going’s-on of business continued as normal. The final call he placed before he’d leave for lunch was to Rajeel of a simple a five word instruction. Nothing more needed to be said, knowing that his associate would understand. Invel sat back in his chair with a smile. “It’s almost too easy…”

[bangchanshehe]

The Only One pt.3

You and your life long best friend Chanyeol were like the same person. You knew everything about one another, and whatever problems you had you faced it together. But what are you supposed to do when you discover that your best friend loves you so much that only he can be important to you, and would go to great lengths to make sure that he was the only one? Yandere!AU

Chanyeol X OC

Word count: 2.2k

“let’s sit over here!” Jongin said in an upbeat tone as he gestured to a pretty isolated booth.

You followed his lead and sat down comfortably at the table and put your backpack to your side. You were about to ask Jongin a question when he suddenly stood up. You stared up at him with wide eyes wondering what he was doing.

“I’ll go get us something to drink. What do you want?” he asked you.

You glanced behind you over to the drink fountain to go over what different options they had but your eyes were met with a curious Chanyeol instead. He looked at you before he turned his head and looked Jongin up and down as if he were assessing him for something. you tried to make eye contact with him so you could give him a ‘leave it alone’ stare, but he wouldn’t stop staring at Jongin. You shook your head as you looked back over to the drink fountain and smiled when you saw the familiar red logo.

“I’ll just have a coke” you said looking back at Jongin with a smile.

Jongin nodded his head and returned your smile back before he walked away. You watched as he left and as soon as you saw him a safe distance away you pulled out your phone and quickly text Chanyeol.

Me: Stop staring at him like he has a third eye.

You hit send and looked back at Chanyeol to see his face while he read the message. He pulled out his phone and smiled down at the screen before he lifted his eyes to look at you. When you were satisfied that he had seen that you weren’t happy you turned back around just in time for Jongin to return to your table.

“thanks” you said softly as he sat your drink back down in front of you before returning to his seat.

You took a long swig of the drink and let out a nice content sigh as you felt the carbonation go down your throat. Jongin watched you with a smile and you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“what?” you asked, “is there something on my face?” you pat away at the corners of your mouth and your chin, hoping to catch whatever it was that was making Jongin laugh at you that way.

“no, there isn’t anything there. You just looked cute.” He commented before he pulled out a menu and looked it over.

You sat in your seat starstruck and completely frozen. He thinks that I’m cute? You mentally squealed on the inside. You looked down at your phone pretending to be busy while you tried to calm down and wipe the massive grin and blush away from your cheeks. You couldn’t believe that this was happening to you right now… I mean even if Jongin was joking it still made you feel like the prettiest girl in the world in that moment.

“what type of pizza do you normally order?” Jongin asked as he scanned the different pizzas they had on the menu, not bothering to look up at you.

“Usually I order Hawaiian, but I’m honestly okay with whatever type of pizza. I’m not picky about food.” You replied.

Jongin’s eyes snapped up to you when you had mentioned Hawaiian pizza. “you like pineapple on pizza?” he asked with a shocked expression.

“yeah…” you said chuckling nervously “It’s pretty good. Do you not like it?” you asked back

Jongin cocked his head to the side and gave you a questionable look. “I thought that you had pretty good taste… but I guess not.” He said jokingly while laughing lightly.

Your eyes widened and you laughed back with him. “hey! Have you ever tried it though?” you asked back. Jongin fiercely shook his head no and you smiled “I bet you would like it if you tried it!” you said in a challenging voice.

Jongin laughed and pointed at the menu “okay so let’s get a large pizza… half Hawaiian and half pepperoni” he stated making sure that it sounded good to you.

“perfect” you said sweetly giving him confirmation.

“Great. Then I’ll go order really fast.” He said pointing back to the registers before he got up and quickly approached the counter.

As soon as he was away you had received a text message. You pulled it out and saw a string of messages from Chanyeol.

Yeolie: This guy doesn’t like pineapples on pizza? You sure know how to pick em’

Yeolie: Hey! Keep the laughing down over there I’m trying to study over here

Yeolie: if you smile any wider you’re going to start catching flies with your mouth.

You scoffed in disbelief and turned around to glare at Chanyeol. But when you turned back Chanyeol was looking anywhere but at you. You tried to whistle and hiss to catch his attention, but he only smiled and continued to ignore you.

“you unlucky punk. Im going to give it to you later” you angerly whispered underneath your breath as you quickly typed out a text.

Me: if you know what’s good for you you’d better stop.

You huffed out in victory as you sent the message and then immediately turned your phone off to make sure that Chanyeol couldn’t bother you anymore while you were here.

“what’s wrong?” Jongin asked with a serious expression as he cautiously took his seat across from you “did something happen?”

You snapped your head up in surprise and your angry expression was immediately wiped away at the sound of Jongin’s voice. You gave him a small smile and quickly tucked your phone away in your backpack so it wouldn’t bother you anymore.

“nothings wrong” you said sweetly

“good. Im glad” he said nicely back

  After a thirty minutes the two of you were thoroughly stuffed and blushing with how awkward and sweet things were going between the two of you. In just this short amount of time you found out that Jongin’s favorite color is blue, he has an older sister, he loves dancing as a hobby and he really likes scary movies. Surprisingly the two of you had more things in common than you were aware of, and you knew deep down that this was just basic information that anyone who would call themselves a friend of his would know but you couldn’t help but think that it was a conversation that made the two of you grow closer.

“since we already ate and relaxed do you want to study for a bit?” he asked as he reached for his bag.

“sure” you responded back noticing that he didn’t wait for you to respond before he already began to change the direction of the conversation and evening.

You pulled out all of your supplies and laid them out in front of yourself. You were a bit of a freak when it came to how you had all of your study supplies laid out. You needed a black, blue and red pen. A highlighter and sticky notes. White-out for any mistakes and tabs to mark which sections you thought were the most important.

When you had everything organized you looked up to see Chanyeol walking by your booth. When he was past Jongin’s line of vision he began making angry faces and making texting motions with hands. You glared at him and cocked your head to the side telling him as best as you could to get lost. Chanyeol glared back at you for a moment and then smiled a sideways grin as if he was in total disbelief before he walked away towards the front counter.

“do you know him?” Jongin asked quietly as to not offend anyone as he looked back at Chanyeol and then to you

You laughed nervously before responding “who? That guy?” you pointed to Chanyeol before waving your hands no.

“are you sure?” he said looking back at Chanyeol once more as he came walking to your table.

You waited for Chanyeol to continue walking past, but he never did. He stopped dead in his tracks and with his hand on the back of his head he smiled at you before half yelling “Y/N! I didn’t see that you were sitting here! How long have you guys been here?” he asked with the least convincing tone ever.

You looked up at him with an evil frown for half a second before you decided to play along with his stupid little game. “oh my god. Chanyeol! We’ve been here for about an hour now. where were you sitting?”

He laughed to himself and then gestured with his head to the booth that was just a few spaces back from you. “just over there. I didn’t realize that it was you since I could only see the back of your head”

“would you like to join us while we study?” Jongin asked politely

You and Chanyeol both turned your heads towards Jongin but with different intent. Chanyeol was grinning like he had just won the lottery and you were giving Jongin a pleading look as if you were begging for him not to allow Chanyeol to stay.

“sure. Let me just bring my things over” Chanyeol said happily before he collected his things from his table and brought them back to yours.

You smiled fakely at Chanyeol’s retreating form and decided to turn on your phone so you could give him a warning text message to go away. But as soon as your phone was unlocked you saw a few new text messages come in from Chanyeol. You rolled your eyes before you opened the message but once you read them your heart sank and you were a bit more hyper aware of everything that was going on around you.

Yeolie: Don’t panic but I think he put something in your drink.

Yeolie: quit drinking damnit!

By the time that reality had sunk in Chanyeol was moving things over on your side of the booth so there would be space for him to sit down next to you. As you watched him get comfortable as single tear fell from the corner of your eye and you tried to remain as straight faced so you wouldn’t look to suspicious to Jongin. But before you could give yourself away Chanyeol turned to you to make sure that you were okay when he saw your tear. His face immediately dropped into sadness with you and he wiped the tear away from your cheek.

“I’m gonna get a refill” Chanyeol said to you quietly  “do you want another one?”

You grabbed onto his free hand under then table and gave it a gentle squeeze. “thanks” you said turning away from him so the two of you didn’t look so affectionate.

As Chanyeol grabbed both cups you watched him slip out of the booth and walk to the front counter. He put your cup down on the bar and then reached over for a new cup while no one was watching him. Your heart warmed and you felt so safe in that moment despite sitting across from someone who wanted to potentially do something incredibly bad to you. You were incredibly lucky to have a best friend like Chanyeol and you don’t know what you would do If you didn’t have him around. You sniffled and blinked twice trying to keep your tears at bay and you watched him as he made your drink again for you, unaware that Jongin was staring at you.

“are you okay?” he asked with a look of shock and concern

“I’m fine. I think my eyes are just tired and they keep watering up.” You said unconvincingly, trying your best to make up a lie on the spot.

  After Chanyeol had approached your table the three of you immediately began to work diligently on your studies. You and Chanyeol had secretly agreed that if you were feeling bad that he would make up a lie to get you out, and in an hour’s time the two of you would leave no matter what.

“So you guys seem pretty close. Have y’all known each other for a long time or something?” Jongin asked

“childhood friends” Chanyeol said confidently, speaking up for you so you wouldn’t have to reply

Jongin nodded his head but continued to look in between the two of you as if he was trying to solve a puzzle “y’all are just friends? Have you two ever dated?” he asked

You smiled and looked over at Chanyeol just for the excuse to look at his face. “just friends” you said politely and Chanyeol smiled back at you with a similar plain smile. You would be lying if you said that you had never had feelings for Chanyeol that went deeper than just the close friendship. There was a period of time in which you couldn’t look at Chanyeol without blushing and dreaming of holding his hand and calling him your man.

But as the two of you got older then more you realized that you and Chanyeol were destined to be only friends. Anything more would be impossible, because if the two of you date and end on bad terms then you’ve also lost your best friend.

“Not yet but I’m working on it” Chanyeol said straight to Jongin’s face as if it were a challenge.

[hollenka99]

Laying Foundations

Summary: The Blood God gets used to caring for a baby and small child who is getting livelier by the year. Chapter 1 of Blood and Feathers. <<Prologue

Warnings: Very brief emeto reference

It is a rather long journey to his Overworld forest cabin from wherever he'd ended up that caused him to be near Phillip's birthplace. The baby, ever so respectfully quiet until now, bawls as soon as the heat of the Nether seems to register. That or he finds portal travel disagreeable. The Blood God is not yet ready to unveil his latest plan. It is half formed and to be honest, he is completely winging it. He wasn't even sure whether he wished to raise his little project here, in his domain where things have always felt a bit... clearer, or in the Overworld, where Phillip is meant to belong, until the Netherdamned child threatened to blow his cover. All he could do to lessen the risk of being spotted is cover Phillip with his cloak and ignore the tiny talons poking at his skin. Besides, if worse came to worst, he could always glare a piglin down into silence. There are very few who are bold enough to trifle with a violence-centric deity, after all. But they do eventually make it. It then hits him that yes, of course, nothing here was left in a suitable condition for raising a child. There is clutter all over the table for one thing. There is also the remains of some meal he must have had prior to leaving the last time. Forgive him for not caring about trivial things such as cleaning up after himself when he's done that thousands of times over his centuries long life. Cleaning is a futile endeavour anyway. You achieve your result, only for it to rapidly be reversed. It will be worse now that he has subjected himself to a child, a form of life unable to comprehend its surroundings required respect, therefore antagonising their environment in their ignorance. That said, he did have three wolves who were capable of causing a mess all on their own. Perhaps, he ponders, he should have asked Celandine to reserve Phillip for a few days as he prepared the place for another being. It will be fine. Phillip is too young to care as it is. After some strife, the house becomes tidier. A pillow and its removed case are placed in a box for lack of better furniture. It will be as good of a bed as Phillip will get while the god fully adjusts his living arrangements. Caring for an infant is... more work than he had been expecting. And he had been anticipating to be kept busy by the kid regardless. During the first night, everything appears to be a problem. He's been fed, changed, paid attention to in general... all of it pointing to the fact Phillip should be content with sleeping. Then ah, the sword swings. Phillip must finally realise he is not going to see his family anymore. Oh well, not much he can do to remedy that. Also, he must say that for such a small stomach, it certainly seems to need filling often. Celandine checks to see how he is faring and offers advice. One such recommendation is to heat the liquid so that it is served warm. However, this occasionally proves to be a disaster as his sense of 'too hot' has been skewed by Nether standards. Phillip never fails to let him know if he's miscalculated. He knows it's irresponsible but a short trip without the baby through the Nether to collect Krev, Valka and Mort won't do much damage. They leap up at him but he hasn't got time to waste with pleasantries. The trio follow him diligently as they pass the statue of the four of them, narrowly avoid a slip into lava because how many lives must I live before you listen when I say be careful and they still remain at his heels when he steps into the portal. The wolves certainly love Phillip at first sight since they barely allow the god to leave the infant's designated room. Easy, he tells them, get your noses away because he's not a plaything and you won't even get to see him if you crowd round like this. The longer they have to get used to each other, the less agitated Phillip tends to be when not in need of care. It is during these calmer moments that they can be found, for example, reading a book 'together'. More to the point, he reads aloud while Phillip tries to grab pages, wriggles in the crook of his arm or the little boy simply stares up at him. Phillip has also become fond of gripping his caregiver's tusks whenever he is carried. It's an odd habit but it isn't painful or particularly uncomfortable so eh, who cares. Being 7 months old when they meet, Phillip is already on the verge of crawling. This is an issue. He gains the ability to be mobile by the time the Blood God is satisfied the cabin is satisfactory for a baby. This soon devolves into a keen eye frequently being kept aimed at the floor. The god wasn't a stranger to watching his step (a trio of wolves seemingly determined to become safety hazards at times will do that to you) but this was even worse. Do you know how miniscule Phillip is compared to him?! And this is the shortest the god can make himself. He is going to accidentally tread on the infant one day if he doesn't remain vigilant, he is sure of it. Winter proves to be a troublesome time. The cold seeps in through the windows whenever there isn't a lit fire to combat it. He despises the season and most years, he is either residing in the Nether anyway or he stays in his large desert home. Well actually, that place of his in the desert tends to be his usual shelter. It's just that humans (and, by extension, avians he supposes) are so fickle when it comes to temperature. They can never be too hot or too cold, for fear of their bodies' ridiculous way of attempting to maintain thermal homeostasis leading to their demises. Babies... are likely the worst culprits of this, along with the elderly. That was why he chose somewhere milder like this forest when it came to Phillip. Celandine has some thoughts on the matter, given that she is unhappy upon her next visit. "You do realise avians are migratory, don't you? It is, after all, partially how you ended up meeting and adopting him. The cold does not suit him." "It does not suit me either. If he is simply cold, I will keep him by the fire." "Keep him warm." She sternly instructs. Perhaps she is right though. He isn't too fond of the lowering temperatures and Phillip's fussiness seems to agree with him. He drafts up rough blueprints for a house, larger than this lowly, isolated cottage but also nothing requiring the time and resources on par with his massive desert villa. Hopefully, with the builders he plans to hire to construct it on his behalf, it will be ready for them this time next year. Which leaves the more pressing issue of what is he going to do for this winter? Well, he supposes there's only one thing for it. Phillip does not find the heat favourable. He spends his days complaining in his own infantile way or being very quiet when struggling with the temperature. Between the age of 9 to 12 months, his style is very much in the minimalist category. Another dilemma the god has is the fact he never exactly need a reason to keep cool here. Therefore, a water source is relatively far away and the coldest spot on the property is the room used to keep food fresh for longer. Phillip shouldn't really be around raw meat but for the sake of lowering the risk of him overheating, he does become familiar with the storage area. However, it's not as if he lives in there. He does get placed outside in the shade with a blanket underneath him every now and again. Babies will taste test any old thing they can get their hands on and there is no better example of this than the way a crawling infant takes fistfuls of the most abundant resource around him to sample. It's the god's duty to supervise in order to prevent sand from becoming unintentionally integrated into Phillip's diet. He notices birds lingering in unusual numbers in the early weeks of the new year. Low enough that perhaps he hasn't cared to notice the true extent of the local bird population before. High enough that he's sure there weren't this many before now. It's February too which makes it even more perplexing. Disappearing to warmer lands is one thing but surely they don't migrate to barren wastelands such as these. Then March 1st arrives and suddenly it all begins to make sense. Celandine could honestly have been less subtle. Any longer and it would have been an infestation. The goddess lands to the cacophony of birds cheering her arrival. Phillip's absent-minded babbling ceases as soon as his brain registers that she has taken him in her arms. She kneels, a baby in one arm while the other is held out as an invitation. She calls out, asking where the subject of her intentions was and summoning it to come to her. A bird with dark feathers makes itself known. It swoops in, perching on the offered limb. It's not a remarkable creature in any way. It has wings, it has eyes, it... presumably breathes. Regardless, it sets its eyes on Phillip from the moment it comes forward. Phillip himself observes the bird with curiosity, even reaching out to it. "Given that you have completed a year of life now, I thought a lifelong friend to keep you company throughout all the other years you're going to see would be a nice gift. She was born last spring, just like you, and she'll stay with you until it's time for you to go. So take good care of each other." The two are left on the ground opposite each other. The crow (apparently that's what the species was called) appears inquisitive. Phillip, on the other hand, crawls back towards him within a minute. "What's their name?" The god asks when Celandine soon shows signs of leaving. A chuckle. "She hasn't told me." It doesn't take too long after his birthday for the baby to learn how to stand with support. In fact, once he manages the feat once, he seems to become obsessed with it. Soft clicking can soon be heard near various pieces of furniture multiple times a day. It would seem the Blood God had just started to get the hang of dealing with a child at one stage of development when Phillip inevitably progressed onto the next. He learns to walk unassisted out on the grass around their house in June. He'd been warned this part of the infant's development would be slower than a human's but given he wasn't aware of how Overworlder children grew, it didn't bother him in the first place. The 1 year old avian struggles to maintain his balance in the beginning but as the weeks and months go on, the clack of talons on wood grows ever more common. Phillip catches him speaking with his ambassadors one day. The conversation isn't anything serious and honestly, should have been had in the Nether. However, wouldn't you know it, raising a kid requires you to be present in case they need you. So they're here, risking their wellbeing just so Phillip can be entertaining himself in the corner of his eye. The toddler specifically notices them bow prior to taking their leave. When the god turns to head back home, he spots a small figure crouch and punch the earth in an imitation of what he witnessed moments before. "Not the time or place." Phillip looks at him expectantly. He repeats the action. "Oh no, I'm not going to lower myself for you. It's called me being at the top of a hierarchy that you're at the bottom of. ...But you probably won't understand that concept for a while." A brief nod of the head is all Phillip receives. He pouts in response, makes a third attempt, but follows him inside all the same when he doesn't get what he wanted. Learning to speak is a slow process for the child, made even slower by the inconsistency of languages spoken at him. The only one who is monolingual is the bird Phillip got for his birthday. As time goes on and the boy starts to get used to forming words, he frequently points to the animal to say things such as "Am" or "Mimi". It's not until November or so that Phillip begins to refer to her as 'Amica'. It takes the god longer than it should have to realise that this is the crow's name and not, as he initially assumed, the Common translation of the Avian word for 'bird'. Amica it is then. The name becomes one of Phillip's favourite Common words to say. Also around this time, the savannah house gets completed, or at least the bare minimum of it is ready. Any extra rooms can be commissioned to be done in upcoming springs and summers if he so desires. The exterior is acacia with a cobblestone frame. It looks nice, as do the rooms inside. The basement that spans the entire area underneath the building will make for good storage space. Like the forest, there are plenty of trees and open spaces for Phillip to play in one day. With some rope and a plank of wood, he could craft a swing once Phillip is able to use one. He comes to realise that this child has no concrete language. Phillip will attempt to copy his grunts and snorts but nothing his vocal chords can produce is quite as deep or guttural as they need to be. The Blood God has been speaking in a mix of Piglin and Common, very occasionally reverting to Ancient Piglin. It depends on his mood but he has been attempting to raise him bilingual with a subconscious bias towards Piglin. Whenever Celandine visits, she will talk to him exclusively in Common for some reason instead of her own natural tongue. As for Amica, they converse only in Avian. However, the reasoning behind that is obvious. One way or another, he can tell Phillip is getting confused with all the words he has to know at only 2 years old. He will speak in Piglin, pause then make some kind of tweety noise while frowning. The funnier moments are when Phillip forgets himself and speaks Avian to him before realising his mistake when the god doesn't understand him. His tiny brain has to fit a great deal of information inside it but they will get there. Defeating a toddler in battle is very easy. His ward lacks co-ordination, focus and sometimes attempts to procure 'weaponry' that is far beyond his weight limit. The Blood God has been whacked with a stick more times than he would like. As annoying as having his legs be attacked with an inefficient blunt object can be, the kid's giggling whenever he reacts to it in any way does make it more tolerable. The wolves enjoy the results of his pitiful attempts at throwing though so all is not lost. However, all this physical play has a habit of messing up Phillip's wings if they're not careful. It had taken practice for the god to care for the wings to a decent standard. Now it was Phillip's turn to start learning, given that he was growing old enough to gain the dexterity for it. The majority of it is still the Blood God's responsibility because gods know that toddler does not pay self-grooming as much attention as he should yet but his involvement increases all the same. And when he molts over the summer, Phillip makes it clear he doesn't want his feathers disposed of. So the god supposes there's going to be a chest full of old feathers in it now. Who knows, it might be interesting for Phillip to peruse through one day. Each early January, the god has been begrudgingly allowing himself to be called away. Ever since Phillip came along, he's been slacking with this specific duty. He'll be presented with a selection of potential warriors for him to act as sponsor for but he never cares much for choosing the one he actually believes in, as he used to do. Being the Blood God's candidate in the fight used to be an advantage but he wouldn't be surprised if it's becoming a hinderance recently. How can you win if your sponsor doesn't help with your preparations throughout the year? The god would say he needed to sit out on being a sponsor if he could. It's simply not possible. It likewise is impossible for him to safely and discreetly keep Phillip in the Nether for weeks. When the actual tournaments come, he now skips them. He can get away with being absent, after all. It's not like he hasn't sat quarter- or semi-finals out before. The final though and the celebrations after? Yeah... not exactly something he can consider missing, especially given it's him who has to have the winner presented to him then host the party. To solve his problem, he speaks to Celandine. She apparently can't care for him in her own home (something about it not being suitable for mortals) but she can arrange for a couple to temporarily babysit Phillip while the finals are being fought. This time, he returns to house with a sleeping child in his hold. The toddler never says a huge amount regarding his time there. However, that's more likely due to his young age than a comment on his experience away from home. When he's three years old, the god decides Phillip is old enough to start working on fighting basics such as footing and learning environmental awareness. It's nothing strenuous or particularly physical but developing the foundation blocks now will serve them both well in the future. Use of any form of proper weaponry can be left for when Phillip is a little older. As the weeks roll by, the boy begins to really take to it. It requires conscious effort for him to maintain a proper stance when moving around but they can work on it. They both have years to get it right and improve efficiency. As a treat to reward him for his efforts so far, the Blood God plans to make a delicacy he's been wanting to introduce Phillip to for a while. He temporarily leaves him under the supervision of the wolves while he sleeps so that certain ingredients could be collected in the Nether. The fungus (both types, he's going all out) is sliced while he creates a broth with an infusion of wither petals. Mushrooms get thrown in too for an Overworld spin on it. An addition of torn petals completes the dish. When he serves it to Phillip, the boy recoils at the taste which causes him to end up eating wet mushrooms and fungus for dinner as a compromise. Not even an hour later, he is pale, less attentive than usual and holding a bowl due to being violently ill. He wants to dismiss it as food poisoning of some sort, maybe he didn't prepare it properly (he knows he didn't mess it up, not with how experienced he is with the dish) or perhaps Phillip is simply suffering from an undiscovered allergy. He reckons the best course of action is to send Amica to Celandine, she'd likely have a better idea than him. And oh, does she. "You gave him soup laced with wither rose petals? Are you trying to kill him?!" "Of course not." He growls back. "It's just that nobody seems to be writing down 'hey don't feed anything wither related to kids'." "Don't feed wither roses to anyone! How have you been around for millennia but still don't know only piglins have a tolerance to wither poison? Gods above, it is the commonest of common knowledge." Regaining his health is an arduous task for the small child. His body fights it as best as it can but its methods risk leading to severe dehydration. It is for this reason the god is eternally grateful their savannah home is close to a body of water. If he's not checking in on Phillip, he's boiling water or preparing safe food so he can urge the kid to eat. The fever keeps Phillip in bed for days. It's slow, it's messy, it's far from a great time for anyone. But they gradually see it through. Phillip just about manages to get to the other side, albeit feeling temporarily weaker. "He's lucky I gave him longevity as part of being one of my Chosen. /You're/ lucky." Celandine comments when the disaster finally begins to see its end. "Trust me, Blood God, one more miscalculation on your part that's in even the vaguest vicinity of this one and I will not hesitate to deliver him to the caregivers he should be with. The only reason I'm allowing this experiment of yours to continue is my own curiosity. However, I value him seeing 30 years more than how he gets to that age. This is your only warning." It is duly noted. The god thinks it wise to let Phillip mingle with other children. Who knows how he'd turn out if all he had for company throughout his formative years was a couple of gods, three immortal wolves and Amica or whatever other bird is willing to listen to his ramblings. The two of them are fairly secluded but there is a human town not too far from where the house is. With repeated visits, Phillip begins to make friends of the human variety. Most of the young children think Phillip is cool for having wings. They are also of the opinion that having a giant pig-looking man as a caregiver is impressive. One day on the walk home, the kid in his arm, Phillip looks up at him and opens his mouth. "What's a daddy? Coz- coz I was playing with a girl. Then the man was shouting. She said it was um... it was her 'daddy'. What's that?" "A father." "What's that?" "A male parent. So if you grew up and met a woman then had a baby together, you would be a father. Humans use dad and daddy colloquially." "What's-" "Slang." "Okay." Phillip ponders a moment. "Are you a daddy?" Nether damn you, kid. The god groans. "Yes... I suppose I am something like that to you." "Did you meet a woman?" "Well, Celandine is female and she let me take you home with me after I met her so... in a way." "Celly is a lady daddy." He nods. "That's typically called a mother." After Phillip questions whether the two deities have had a baby other than himself (no, definitely not together and the Blood God has never personally seen the point in siring any brood himself), he descends into further enquiries. It gets to the point the god makes an offhand comment about how he wasn't expecting to deal with a questionnaire today. Phillip responds by asking what a questionnaire is. With all that their conversation entails, it should honestly be counted as a miracle they never touch on the dreaded topic of conception. He does not, however, escape Phillip's gradual shift to a more informal way of addressing him. At least he's not calling him 'Sir' as if it's his actual given name anymore. Over the last few years of parenting, he has learned the quietest moments are the most suspicious ones. If Phillip is not chattering away to himself as he plays in the main room, he is likely running around outside with the wolves or engaging in conversation with Amica. That is to say, he is making noise one way or another. So when the god comes to the realisation he hears nothing on a day in early summer, it is safe to say he is concerned. He discovers Phillip standing on a low branch of a tree. "What are you trying to achieve with this?" The boy glances up. "Oh hi, Daddy. Celly said I was gonna fly. I gotta be 4 or 5 or 6. I'm 4 now so I'm gonna fly now." "I'm not sure it works like that. It's more to do with how large your wings are. They have to be able to support you in the air." "I'm 4." He holds up the appropriate quantity of fingers as if they will emphasise his point. "Celly said my wings are getting super big." That would not be how he would describe the size of those limited things. "They are growing but really, Phillip, you should be careful. I highly doubt you are ready yet." "Watch this." "Don't." He warns. "Get down from there." Phillip grins as if he's thought of the perfect scheme. "Okay!" He leaps from the branch, wings spread out. A second later, an 'oof' of a body hitting the ground is heard. The drop was too short to particularly do any damage (or, in fact, provide enough time for the wings to accept the wind). However, the young boy breaks into a fit of bawling as if he's hurt himself. He's seen stupider injuries over the centuries so a part of the god does not dismiss the possibility Phillip really has caused himself harm as a result of this stunt. Luckily for both of them, it's simply the typical 'small child acting like the most minor inconvenience is the end of the world'. It becomes a long summer of keeping an eye out for Phillip potentially attempting to repeat his actions. Practice may make perfect but the child will never take the skies if he breaks all his bones first. The kid begrudgingly adheres to the rule that he will not perform any flying-related activities without supervision. He often complains that he can't practise flying if he can't jump from a high enough spot to try. The god has none of it. Instead, he suggests the boy flap his wings to imitate flying while standing firm on ground as a better alternative. Phillip becomes a self-declared 'expert' at this soon enough. "Savannah, savannah, savannah." Phillip chants, hopping with his arms raised in an attempt to grab the god's hand. A bag is abandoned by his feet and he continues to pay it no heed in favour of badgering his father. He doesn't know why the child sees the need to jump for it. His current height now has him being not quite the length of one of his legs. Phillip is capable of taking his hand if he so desires by simply lifting it up all the way. "Yes, we are going to the savannah, hold on a minute." They both know the drill by now. In the final week of October, they travel to the house in the midst of the savannah. They return to their forest home as March sees its close. Each time, Phillip must cover up to obscure himself from view as he is carried through the Nether. The Blood God himself has a cloak of his own to further shield the child. This is arguably the first year Phillip is able to walk beside him since he can now reach the god's hand but for the sake of making things easier for everyone, the boy will be held during the trip. Most piglins have no reason to bother him. Even those tasked with helping him manage things from the ground on his behalf seem to have developed an unspoken rule to let him pass undisturbed if the path he takes leads him away from his manor. The moment Phillip is allowed on his feet upon their arrival this year, he sprints to the door. During one afternoon in February, he notices Phillip busy with the swing outside. He doesn't entirely understand the entertainment value in winding it up then spinning but if it amuses the kid then whatever. Amica seems to be keeping him company so that served the god well. He thinks this would be a good time to start carving this acacia wood he has lying around into a blade and handle. Because what 5 year old boy wouldn't want a sword for his birthday? And what god of war and blood wouldn't eagerly anticipate the day he can begin training his protégé properly?

[harringrovetrashrat]

(We discussed this a lot in the discord, so props to the gang for this.  A group effort, it was.  Here are my musings about that Hocus Pocus AU.  Tagging @ihni and @pondermoniums just uh,,, cuz y’all were interested in this kinda thing 👀)

So obviously Billy is Max and Max is Dani (lol).  Like, obviously.

And they’ve moved and Billy is just over it because this town is boring, these people are boring, and who takes Halloween this seriously anymore besides fucking nerds and kids?  A whole town being into it?  Like, what fucking even.

And witches???  Really???  Fucking please.  Billy knows there’s no such thing.  Knows that these people are just whirled up in some sort of town wide fantasy.  And he definitely says as much.  Gets in trouble for it, too.  But, it does get someone to notice him.

The only thing Billy’s even remotely enjoyed in this town is Steve Harrington.  Rich prep boy with really soft looking hair and big eyes that Billy just wants to stare into for ages and long fingers and that pale skin.  Steve is snickering as Billy gets his talking to, rolling his eyes with a smile when Billy shoots him a wink.

Billy leaves on Halloween ready to hole up at home and ignore everyone and everything, especially his annoying brat of a sister.  Of course, on the way home, he runs into Tommy and Adam.  (Tommy is ICE, I don’t make the rules.)  And they’re all Hey, California, nice jacket/earring/etc.  Billy barely entertains it, considers popping Tommy in the jaw, but instead he just skates home.  Goes up to his room and flops onto the bed.

“Steve,” he murmurs.  “Steve Harrington with the delicious peach.” Billy sighs, dragging his hands over his face.  “And what a peach…”

“Boo!” Max jumps outta his closet and Billy jack knifes on the bed before jerking up, red faced.

“MAX!  I told you not to come in my fucking room!”

“Yeah, whatever.  Mom said you have to take me trick or treating.” Billy scoffs.

“No fucking way.”

“She’s going to a party hosted by the mayor--”

“Don’t care--”

“--And she doesn’t want me to go alone, even though I could--”

“Still don’t care--”

“--And I need someone to carry my haul--”

“How is this my problem?” And Max snaps her mouth shut, glaring, before opening her mouth and,

“MOM!”

(Susan moved Billy and Max here to get away from Neil and that’s that on that mmkay)

Needless to say, Billy has a hoodie under his jacket with the hood pulled up because he cannot be seen carting his sister around to trick or treat.  How lame.  Gets shit from Tommy and Adam, who try to steal Max’s candy, but get a broom to the crotch.  Max ain’t playing around, and while she doesn’t need Billy to protect her, he kinda can’t help it.  Pops one of ‘em in the eye and bolts, Max cackling as she follows him.  And they keep on going, Billy’s hood down now at least, before getting to this massive house with a party.  And Max knocks and Billy stands behind her, staring off, when suddenly,

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. I-Hate-Halloween.” And Billy’s head whips around and Steve is there in some fancy ass Victorian garb all ruffles and coiffed hair and tight fucking breeches--

“Harrington, right?” Cuz Billy’s gotta play it casual.  Gotta be cool.  And Max raises a brow, smirking, as Steve hands her a lollipop and stands there, biting his lip before asking,

“Wanna come in for a bit?  This party is fucking boring.” And Billy isn’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth.  Max frowns.

“But--”

“I’ll let you take as much candy as you want,” Steve offers, face only lightly flushed.  Max shoots in the house, grabbing fistfuls from the frankly enormous bowl of candy.  Billy steps in, hands in his pockets.  He looks around giving a low whistle.

“Well well, Harrington,” Billy says.  “Fancy ass home you’ve got here.”

“I mean-- It’s my parents’ place.  Technically.” Steve scratches his nose and Max comes over.  “That’s a pretty dope witch costume.”

“Thanks,” she replies.  “I like yours.  Billy likes, now wait,” she hums, licking the lollipop, “What did you call it?  His peach?” And Billy goes red, hissing,

“Maxine!” Whilst Steve is confused as hell.  Max presses on.

“Billy really likes--”

“So, you all really believe in the Sanderson sisters?” Billy says, loud and over Max, who kicks him in the shin while he shoves at her to move away.  Steve just kinda… goes with the flow of these two.

“I mean, yeah.  I’ve been to the museum loads of times, and that book of spells is legitimately the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Steve shuffles a little, glances into the ballroom, before seemingly making up his mind.  “You wanna go?” Billy raises a brow.

“You thinking about breaking in, pretty boy?” His tongue pokes from between his teeth as he grins, ignoring Max rolling her eyes.

“Is it breaking in if I have a key?” Steve smirks.  “My parents technically own it, so…” He shrugs and Billy smiles so he doesn’t do something stupid like say something mushy in front of Max.

“Well, grab that key then, Richie Rich.” And Steve grumbles it’s my parents’ money, jeez before going upstairs.

“I’ll be back in a jiffy.” And once he disappears Max elbows Billy in the gut.

“What the hell, shithead?” Billy hisses.

“You’re so fucking obvious,” she says with a grin.  “Pretty boy?  Like, come on.” And Billy ignores her, thank you.

So they go, and Billy and Steve are flirting almost obnoxiously, and Max is so over it, but when they get to the house, they all kinda feel the weird energy.  Billy of course, keeps trying to play it off.  Keeps being a little shit.  Asks if he should light the candle.

“Come on,” he leers.  “Not like anything’ll happen.”

“I dunno,” Steve replies, biting his lip.

“You’re so gonna summon them, Billy.  You’re a virgin.” And wow Max, no need to call him out like that.  And Billy goes red before flicking open his zippo and lighting the candle.

Which.  Bad idea.

(Now, you can imagine the sisters the same, or as Joyce (Winnie), Karen (Sarah), and Claudia (Mary).  Which ever speaks the most to you.  Cuz then Zombie Billy could be Hopper.  Or Bob if you want I suppose.  I’m going with keeping them the same for now cuz I’m a lazy bastard.

Thackery and Emily are Jonathan and Will, I don’t make the rules.)

ANYWAY

The rest pretty much goes the same, with a lot more teasing between Steve and Billy.  And Max being so over these boys.  Jonathan is too, honestly, and he’s constantly swiping at Billy to get him to stop being an asshole.  Steve thinks it’s cute.  Billy does not.

No one listens to Billy cuz, well, he looks like a delinquent whose gonna make jokes.  Steve’s parents ignore him, and everyone knows it, so obviously he’s probably doing it for attention.  And well, Susan is having fun getting to know a lovely and kind man at the party (maybe this is Bob), so she’s just a lil’ distracted.

When they get to the graveyard, and Sarah tries to flirt with Billy, tries to coerce him into giving them his life force, Steve chucks some rocks, furious and jealous, like the brat he is.  Says,

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, Witch Bitch!” And Billy’s already infatuated, but now he’s in love.  Steve’s got that spark, that fire, and Billy kinda maybe likes a guy who can hold his own.  Billy deals with Winnie, Steve and Max deal with the other two.

At the end, once Zombie Billy’s back in his grave, the witches are gone, kaput, and Jonathan has reunited with will, Steve, Billy, and Max find themselves on a bench, exhausted.  And Max maybe says,

“I’m ready to go home.  Steve, wanna come for breakfast?” And well, it’s not like his parents are gonna be up anytime soon, or will notice him being gone at all, so he says yes.  “Awesome.  Billy makes really good pancakes.  Plus, even though we don’t have a guest room, I’m sure Billy will let you take his bed.”

“Maxine!”

Or well,,,, something like that.

[sweetiepie08]

Rebel Z (Chapter 10 Final)

nvader Zim fanfic

While analyzing Zim’s PAK for weaknesses, Tak discovers strange coding that sends her on a search for answers. The clues lead her to uncover a conspiracy that governs all of Irken society. When the truth sends her on the run, she has no choice but to return to the one place the Tallest would never willingly go: Urth.

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list please let me know.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. 

Thank you for reading! I do plan to continue the story in a sequel fic, but I may take a short hiatus first. I hope you enjoyed this!

Be on the lookout for the next book in the series, RevolutionZ! In which Zim and Tak attempt to join the Resisty and gain new companions! Dib fills his gap year by joining an alien rebellion! Gaz gets dragged in too! And what happened to Zim in Death Melee is explained! 

However, I will most likely only be posting links to Ao3 than full chapters to Tumblr. Again, Thank you everyone for reading!

[-]

“So, what exactly the fuck was all that stuff with the punch about?” Dib asked once they were a comfortable distance away form the Massive.

Zim glared straight ahead at the stars. “It’s nothing that concerns you, human.”

“Bullshit!” Dib slammed his hand down on the control panel. “Your little stunt could have gotten us killed. Out with it!”

Zim gritted his teeth and gripped the steering mechanism until his knuckles quaked. Dib braced himself for the inevitable screaming denial. Instead, Zim let out a pained sigh. “Fine, if you must know, I figured out three Urth years ago that my mission was a sham and my leaders were trying to have me killed, so I took revenge. Happy?”

“We know all that,” Tak snapped. “And anyway, I told you your mission was a lie a long time ago. What I want to know is how you managed to betray the Tallest without your treasonous thoughts setting of your life clock.”

“Yeah, and who’s Spek?” Dib added.

“You wish to hear Zim’s tale of woe?” He clenched his fist and heaved out another sigh. “Fine. Three Urth years ago, the Tallest contacted me, telling me they selected me to participate in Death Melee, an inter-galactic event that all would be watching.”

“The one where they throw criminals on a planet together to fight to the death?” Tak deadpanned. “That was your first clue?”

“They told me the rules had changed and it was now a contest of elite warriors. For my partner, they gave me a Spek, a smeet just shy of his cadet years. He hadn’t even seen his first cycle yet…” Zim’s fists shook as he cut himself off.

“Since you’re still alive, I’m assuming you won,” Dib said.

“Yes, but…” his gaze fell to the floor. “Yes. Anyway, throughout the Melee, it became clear to me that the Tallest lied. This was still a game for criminals, but Spek…” Zim narrowed his haunted eyes, “he was only there to lessen my chances.”

Dib watched, mesmerized. He thought he’d seen the many moods of Zim. He’d seen everything from proud boasting, to spiteful rage, to pathetic schmooping. But this, this was something else entirely, something he never expected to see from the alien. True remorse.  

“On my journey back to Urth,” he continued, “I had too much time to think and when made it back to m base, I was done with all of it.” Rage grew in his voice with every word. “I knew they lied. I knew they’d been lying. For a moment, I thought, if they didn’t want my genius, maybe someone else would. And that thought was enough to set off my life clock. Instead of simply ripping out my feedback chip, I infected it with a virus that sends the Control Brains a loop of my Urth memories, preventing it from receiving new thoughts and experiences.” A bitter, satisfied smile came to his face. “As far as I can tell, it hadn’t noticed anything was off until now.”

“And the machines I saw you building?” Dib pressed.

Zim drew himself up. “I have a contract with the Resisity. I build them machines, they appreciate my genius and send me monies.”

“And that’s what you’ve been doing for three years?” Dib asked, voice sripping with skepticism.

Zim nodded and said nothing more.

Dib stared at him, trying to get a read on this whole tale. He wasn’t sure what to believe. Zim’s reason for existence seamed to be pleasing his Tallest. The little green monster talked of nothing else since arriving on Urth. He couldn’t imagine Zim wanting anything else and he’d fallen for the schmoopy act before. But this was not schmoop. It was too subtle, too quiet. And that betrayal of his Tallest couldn’t be denied. Something had truly changed.

Dib looked to Tak to gauge her opinion, but her face revealed nothing except careful calculation.

“I’d heard the Resisty had been growing and gaining power,” she mused. “New technology granted them upsetting victories and made them more of a problem than they once were. They could be the key. We need to fight if we ever want a chance of defeating the Control Brains and freeing our people, and for that, we’ll need an army. With your connection and my information, we could pose a real threat to the Empire.”

Dib expected Zim to launch into another tirade about how he wasn’t in it for the politics. That this was all a personal mission and he had no interest in going rogue. That did not happen.

Instead, Zim said nothing for a long time. He simply stared through the windshield in tense silence. But then, a grin grew slowly on his face. “I’m in.”

[-]

When they made it back to Earth, they found that Gaz made use of MiMi and Mini Mouse as gaming companions, Dad bought her excuse that Dib was hanging out at Zim’s house, and that he hadn’t even stopped home long enough to notice the two additional robots in the living room.

Dib went straight to his room and laid out all of his recording devices. He had the notes he took the night Zim and Tak rambled drunkenly on the couch. He had the audio recording of the old man Irken that he couldn’t wait to translate. And he had the spy camera he’d been wearing to capture the whole experience. He never got so much undeniable proof on one mission before, and no one, to his knowledge, had this much evidence of this quality ever. He’d be king of the Swollen Eyeball network if he showed even a fraction of…

His eyes drifted to the Swollen Eyeball emblem pinned to his bulletin board and he let out a sigh. The Swollen Eyeball… what a joke. They’d been reduced to a bunch of anti-science conspiracy nuts. The organization became a competition to see who could shout their wildest theory the loudest. What were they compared to a real evil alien empire, a real soul-sucking, Lovecraftian horror, and a real space alien rebellion?

No. This was bigger than some crack-pot conspiracy group. This rebellion universe-shattering consequences. And he was going to be part of it.

[-]

Out in his ship, Zim stared at his PAK connector with warry eyes. He wasn’t sure what held him back now. His stunt on the Massive already solidified his traitor status, but this felt different, more official. It was one thing to enact vengeance on those who betrayed him. It was quite another to completely detach himself from society.

He’d been unwaveringly loyal to the Empire since his conception, but they didn’t want him. He’d seen that years ago. So what was he waiting for?

He disconnected the PAK from his back and ignored the lifeclock in the corner of his eye as he plugged it in. He opened the hatch, clicked a pair of tweezers in his fingers, then reached them toward his feedback chip.

At a light tug, his computer’s voice gave an automated warning.

You are attempting to remove the feedback chip. Doing so is an act of treason against the Irken Empire. Are you sure you want to proceed?

Zim closed his eyes and pulled the chip free.

[-]

Tak’s footsteps echoed as she walked across the concrete garage floor. MiMi’s metallic feet clacked beside her. Apart from that, the room was silent. She was used to silence. One grows accustomed to it when traveling alone through space. But these last few days had been anything but. And with Zim as her dubious ally, silent moments like this were certain to be few and far between.

And yet, this moment, she felt the need to fill it with something.

She popped open the windshield of her ship and hopped inside. “MiMi, my disc please.” Mimi reached into her head and took out the Urth data storage disc. Zim wasn’t the only one with a secret stash.

Tak took the disc from Mimi and placed it in a tray on the ship’s control panel. “Ship, track six please.” As she hopped out, music began to play. Smooth, jazzy horns filled the air and the singer began crooning.

Maybe this time, I’ll be lucky. Maybe this time he’ll stay…

The song was from an Urth performance art piece. The vocalist sang about some male mate. That part didn’t interest Tak in the slightest. Still, there was something about it...

Not a loser anymore, like the last time and the time before…

The song continued to play as Tak opened the engine access panel and began her work. While manipulating the many gears and wires, she found a few interesting repair methods that the human implemented over the years. Many employed the use of an Urth bonding strip called “duct tape”, which she had to admit came in handy. The human didn’t do a bad job, even if it was pretty slap-dash.

All the odds are in my favor, something’s bound to begin…

She finally untangled a mess of wires and reconnected them.

It’s gotta happen, happen sometime…

She fused together the final wire and the ship hummed to life. Fuel Regulation Systems online.

Tak smiled, “Okay Mimi, looks like we’re finally getting somewhere.” She ducked back into the access panel as the song his its crescendo.

Maybe this time I’ll win.

[dessarious]

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt87

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next

Ladybug was still trying to process the looks they were giving her when Discorde was suddenly a lot closer to study her face. When had that happened?

“When was the last time you got more than an hour of sleep?” She could only blink at her partner for a moment. Was that a thing? She knew people claimed to sleep for six or even eight hours at a time but couldn’t remember doing so herself unless she was sick, injured, or sedated. Possibly a combination of the three. Between being Ladybug, the huge increase in her workload since revealing herself, making sure she made time for all the important people in her life, and relearning how to do everything without using her legs she really didn’t have time for something as unproductive as sleep. Besides she wasn’t tired. Or was that always tired? She couldn’t remember anymore.

“Don’t know. Pretty sure it was a Wednesday though.” Catwoman let out a bark of laughter but Discorde looked even more worried and guilty.

“We’re going home and from now on if you’re awake so am I. Maybe that will make you realize how badly you’re running yourself into the ground.” She sounded pissed and Ladybug couldn’t figure out why, or if it was aimed at her.

“But you don’t need to be awake and I thought you liked sleep? I’m sorry I woke you up tonight.” Maybe that was it. Chloe woke up and she was gone. She could have at least left a note. She’d definitely remember to do that next time.

“That’s not the point damn it.” Discorde was speaking through clenched teeth and even Catwoman looked a little more worried. She must not be making sense again. She’d have to make one of her special brews when they got back so she’d be more alert. “We’re going home and you’re going to sleep for at least twelve hours before I or Tikki let you out of the room again. And none of that battery acid you call coffee either.”

“But-”

“No. This isn’t an argument. You’re sleeping. No caffeine, no electronics, no emergencies. If there’s a problem, someone else can handle it for a day. You need to learn to delegate, to rely on other people, before you kill yourself.” She sounded so worried and it brought a wave of guilt on top of the confusion.

“I rely on you.” She thought it was a dumb thing to say as soon as it left her mouth but Discorde’s look softened.

“I know you do. And that’s why you’re going to let me take you home and take care of you. The Kwami, Viperion, and whatever Bats happen to be in the area can handle things for a day. Then you can freak out and yell at me about all the wasted time and possible catastrophic things that could have happened but didn’t.” She was trying to come up with an argument. There had to be something urgent she had to do. Probably something to do with her business, or wasn’t she supposed to go to a children’s hospital as Ladybug? What day was it anyway? She let out a yelp of surprise as her transformation dropped and Discorde had to catch her, again. When she looked up it was to see a very surprised Catwoman and a very pissed off Kwami.

“That’s it you’re benched until you learn some type of self care. This is beyond ridiculous.” Tikki was spending way too much time with Chloe. Marinette couldn’t even put up a fight when her Kwami took her earrings.

“There has got to be a way for you to warn me before you do that so I don’t end up flopping around like a fish out of water. Not to mention, last I checked, you’re supposed to do what I say, not the other way around.” There was no bite in her tone and everyone promptly ignored her.

“Tikki, do you really think it was a good idea to do that in front of her?” Discord nodded at Catwoman who still seemed frozen with shock. Tikki shrugged and Mari could feel Discorde tense the way she did when she was going to launch into a lecture.

“It’s okay. She would have figured it out in a day or two anyway. Assuming Bruce hasn’t already told her.” She cuddled into Discorde both to soothe her and because it was cold up there in nothing but shorts and a tank top. She really needed to look into warm night dresses or something. That was her last thought before she passed out.

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

Discorde felt Mari go limp against her and let out a sigh of relief and annoyance before looking back at Tikki.

“Her transformation was the only thing keeping her awake wasn’t it?” Tikki looked just as annoyed.

“No, that would be her stubbornness and constant overthinking. I told her not to go out but she said she needed time to think on her own. She doesn’t want anyone to worry about her and seems to think sneaking off to freak out in private is the way to do that.” There was exasperation in the Kwami’s tone but it was mainly fondness. For all Mari’s quirks, no one who really cared for her could stay angry at her. Not even Damian.

“So where are you staying?” Catwoman just blinked at her for a moment until the question actually registered. Then she shrugged.

“I just got here a couple hours ago. Bruce won’t be here for a few days so I’ll probably just find a hotel until then.” Discorde wanted to tell the woman to get out of Paris. She didn’t like the fact that one of Gotham’s Rogues knew who Ladybug was, but Mari was right that the woman would have figured it out. And Mari would be really unhappy with her if she was that rude to Damian’s possible future step mother. So she defaulted to as much diplomacy as possible.

“Follow me.” She took off across the roofs before the woman had a chance to respond, not really caring one way or the other. She heard the woman land behind her once they got to her balcony and still wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. “Can you get the door?”

“We’re breaking into a hotel?” Discorde rolled her eyes but it was as much at herself as the comment. Of course that’s what she’d think.

“No we’re not. Just open the door.” Catwoman gave her a skeptical look but did as asked. Discorde walked in first and lay Mari gently on the bed before dropping her transformation. They really needed to talk about this, just not until Mari was rested. “Tikki, do antihistamines still knock her out?”

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to drug your girlfriend?” Plagg’s dry tone got a glare from both her and Tikki.

“If that’s what it takes to keep her from getting an ulcer at fifteen then yes I absolutely do.” Tikki hummed in agreement and Chloe walked over to her phone to dial the front desk. She put it on speaker.

“What can I do for you Mlle. Bourgeois?”

“I’m going to need some allergy medication. First thing in the morning is fine if there’s no one available to get it now. Liquid form, not the pills.” Just in case she needed to sneak it into Mari’s food or tea. Tikki’s comment about her being stubborn being the deciding factor. If the Kwami was that worried then drastic measures might be necessary. “Also I’m checking someone into the suite under mine so could you have someone make sure it’s ready and bring the key to my room? Just put it on my card for now.”

“Of course. Will that be all Mlle. Bourgeois?”

“Yes. Thank you Philipe.” She could almost hear the man’s shock that she’d called him by name but hung up before he had a chance to recover. She’d been trying to be nicer to the staff but absolutely hated the way they reacted to it. Catwoman was giving her a look she couldn’t interpret.

“Bourgeois as in Mayor Bourgeois?” The woman sounded thoroughly amused and it immediately pushed Chloe into her holier than thou attitude.

“Yes. This is Daddy’s hotel.” That caused a frown.

“You mean you’re actually the Mayor’s daughter?” Chloe just gave a stiff nod, not sure if she was being made fun of or not. For all she’d gotten on Marinette about her sleep, Chloe wasn’t much better off and she didn’t have the patience to deal with this right now. The woman didn’t look amused anymore though, more like she was trying to piece together the information she’d been given. “I can pay for my own room you know.” Chloe just waved a dismissive hand.

“I figured. I just used my card to hold it for now. I would have just opened up a tab for you or Bruce but Daddy’s already rather annoyed with me and I don’t want to give him a reason to come down here and yell at me right now.” Her developing a spine where her mother was concerned threw off the balance of their little ecosystem. Audrey was blaming her father for Chloe’s attitude so now he was trying to ‘fix’ her. She’d bullied Marinette and countless others without him caring but the second she stood up to her mother suddenly she needed an attitude adjustment. She was so glad she could look at Mari and her parents for an example for how a family was supposed to act.

“Why would you bringing in business make him upset?” Chloe just let out a tired sigh as she debated how much to share with the woman. To say her relationship with her parents was complicated was a massive understatement. And somehow it had just gotten worse as she tried to become a better person.

“If I just started a tab he would assume that I would comp it later.” Catwoman was still looking at her as though trying to solve a puzzle and she really didn’t like it. She needed a distraction. That’s when she noticed the woman had a backpack. “The bathroom is through there. You should probably get changed before the concierge comes up with the key.” The woman opened her mouth but seemed to think better of it before turning and walking to the bathroom. Chloe just hoped that meant there wouldn’t be more questions tonight.

AO3   Beginning   Previous    Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

@noirdots @valeks-princess @chocolatecatstheron @krispydefendorpolice @bee-wrecker @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @northernbluetongue @paradoxal-occurance @scrumptiouslyelegantchaosqueen @sonif50 @thequestionablyhuman @persephonebutkore @elspethshadow @geekydragonyt @mmwolf1605 @da-tasuky @mjisntme @bluerosette23 @anjuschiffer @littleredrobinhoodlum @tazanna-blythe @resignedcatservant @schrodingers25 @seraphichana @persephonescat @punstoppablechatnoir @magicalfirebird @crazylittlemunchkin @corabeth11 @cyborgcandy @casual-darkness @shamefullove @miraculous-simmer7 @tamoni112 @cat181818meow @littleblue5mcdork @allthebooksandcrannies @enchanted-nerd @disneyfoxuniverse @fallinginthe-void @mandy984 @goggles-mcgee @fontegagrilledcheese @dorkus-minimus @theatreandcomicfreak @zerotosiki @ayuchan07 @mindfulmagics @urbanpineapplefarmer @winter-gardenflower @mooshoon @my-name-is-michell @melicmusicmagic @7-sage-7 @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @alicesangelofmusic @caffeinetheory @nataladriana9 @multplelifes @wanderingreader1019 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @mvaree @redscarlet95 @storyteller-d @howabouticallyou @ginamarie1512 @kurogaya913 @tbehartoo @maddrag @two-faced-biatch @senyahgirl @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @iloontjeboontje @kakashixobito @welcometopradasa @amirahevens @amlesi @miraculousbelladonna @virgil-is-a-cutie @18-fandoms-unite-08 @cupcakeandkisses @angelofmusickaterinapetrova @book-r-the-best @dur55 @moonlightstar64 @fertileleaf @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @thecaptainthunder @danielslilangel @novicevoice @nyaabinch @interobanginyourmom @welcometopradasa @charlietheepic7 @im-here-for-the-content @maya-custodios-dionach @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @starwindmaden @tired-butterfly @rogueptoridactyl @emeraldpuffguide @suzen23smith @yuulxd @animegirlweeb @alovelyocean @kris-pines04 @semaalcocer-blog @cadencehood @jardimazul-blog @shethecat @silent-storms-posts @simplysslytherin @tog84 @thesunanditsangel @dast218 @tall-and-angry @the-alice-of-hearts @captainmac6 @theyellowfeverexperience @chrismarium @alessialeone6997 @heaven428 @tinyterror333 @smolplantmum @lilyellowink @naoryllis @katiegardneriscoolerthanyou @magewriter @doodledeerest @athena452 @peachedpocky @tired-butterfly @risingmoonyue @lunammoon @mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law  @bobothyross @silvergold-swirl @loysydark @heaven428 @peachedpocky @hauntedwintersweets @awesome-starfish-and-tacos @silvergold-swirl @rosesgonerogue @castielsofficialtoothbrush @myazael @aestheticnpoetic @creator-josie @sturchling @snowstar1016 @myblacknightworld @kittycatwowmeow @midnightkaito @chylou34 @hufflejournals @indecisive-mess-named-me @uwuteamleader @sassakitty @jessigurl-design @demigodgirl20031 @freshbark @soup-served-chilling @elmokingkong @unknownvsworld @thatonegaybitchfromschool @tis-i-beanbandit @damianette-is-life @peachesbackup @nobodyw8s4evr @the-fusionist @iwantwhirlledpeasandlotsatrees @chocolateherringtacofan

[one-piece-drabbles]

Can you please do one with Rodger knowing about ace's execution and maybe ace being saved by luffy and reacting idk alive or dead. This doesn't even makes sense but anything like this will work.

Y’know, it’s not really what you’re looking for, but I figured an answer to this ask was better than no answer at all. Between rewriting an old Ace time-travel fic of mine, I’ve been working on a new Ace time-travel fic with...different goals. If you don’t mind, I’ll be using your ask an excuse to post about it.

So if any of y’all out there have facts about Roger and/or his crew (I’ll take headcanons too), send them my way! I could use some inspiration. Read on if you want a taste of what I’ve been up to with all of this.

“This will be my final order as your captain!”

Ace slowed to a stop. Final?

“It’s time for us to part ways! You must all survive and return to the new world!”

Someone was yelling, begging Whitebeard to say he wasn’t planning on dying here, but it was plain on the old man’s face: he was making himself the last sacrifice.

“I’m a relic of a bygone era!” Whitebeard declared, silencing the complaints. “No ship can carry me into the new age! Get away from here, my sons!”

His next quake rocked Marineford, nearly throwing Ace off his feet. Luffy was still tugging him along towards the ships, but Ace couldn’t tear his eyes from his father.

“Pops!” One last word. One last look. One last something.

Whitebeard grinned in the face of the entire navy bearing down on him. “It’s been a long journey. Let’s finish this once and for all!”

All of Marineford was crumbling, the massive structures little more than paper in the face of Whitebeard’s power. The ground rumbled like the sea in a storm, but through all of it, Whitebeard was an unshakeable pillar of destruction.

Haruta broke rank. “We can’t leave you behind, Pops!”

Whitebeard’s response was swift and catastrophic, stopping Haruta in his tracks. “Can’t you follow your captain’s orders?” he roared. “Get away from here, you lousy brats!”

The tide of pirates began to retreat. It pulled at Ace, but he remained rooted to the spot, that pounding need for just one more look crystallizing into its true shape. He broke from Luffy’s grip and took one step towards his father. His only father.

“Ace!” Luffy cried. “We gotta go!” And then, words that cut like knives: “Don’t let the old man’s sacrifice go to waste!”

That was exactly the problem. Ace glanced back at his brother. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” He turned back to the horde of marines closing in on Whitebeard, the heat of his own flames swirling around his fist. It would have to be enough.

“Out of the way!” His hiken tore through their ranks like a torrent. As the flames died down, so did he, dropping to his knees and bowing his forehead nearly to the ground. Tears built in his eyes and he squeezed them shut.

Somehow, impossibly, Whitebeard’s words carried across the distance between them. “I have little use for soft words…but tell me one thing, Ace.” The tears threatened to break through. “Was I good father?”

The damn broke. “Of course!” he cried, his whole body shaking as his voice cracked.

Whitebeard just laughed. Ace, bowing even lower, swallowed and climbed back to his feet, finally heeding Jinbe’s order to get to the front, only for a new voice to cut through all the noise.

“You free Ace and then turn tail and run, huh? The Whitebeard Pirates are a pack of cowards.” Time slowed. “But considering who your leader is, that’s no surprise! After all, Whitebeard is nothing but a loser from a bygone era!”

And suddenly, he wasn’t heeding Jinbe at all. Rage flared high in his chest and his tears burned up. He turned to face the admiral—

But Akainu wasn’t there. Uncomprehending, Ace stared at the tropical forest where Marineford had been. Five distant peaks stretched into the sky like fingers, but there were no buildings, no fortifications. Instead of walls bearing down, palm fronds rustled in the calm breeze while waves gently rolled onto shore behind him.

Even the air had changed. There was no smoke, no gunpowder, only salt. The fallen marines and pirates were gone. He turned around again, but Luffy and all of his crewmates were gone too. No ships sat on the glimmering waves. No ice held fast the sea.

“P-Pops?” His voice sounded strange to his ears. The breeze came again. A coconut broke free and tumbled the long way to the ground, only for it to get stuck in the sand. “Luffy?”

Another spin didn’t change anything. There was no one around. The sun wasn’t even in the right place. It hung high in the sky, dead at its zenith.

His balance rocked and he sank to his knees. Was this a joke? A Devil Fruit? He brought his arms up to hug himself, only to notice something odd about his left. There was no ink in his skin; his ASCE tattoo had disappeared. Yanking off the tank top that had materialized on his torso and tossing it aside, he craned his neck, fingers pulling on his skin to bring more of it into view, but no matter how he looked—over his left shoulder, over his right shoulder, around his sides—his Whitebeard tattoo was nowhere in sight. It was like it had never been there at all. Even his necklace was gone.

He held out his shaking hands, only then realizing just how small they were. His gaze drifted back to the trees. Were they really that big, or was he…

He was. Shaking harder, he tried to summon some fire, any fire, but nothing happened. There was no response at all. When he dug his nails into his palms, though he could feel it just fine. He could feel everything—the breeze tousling his hair, the sand shifting under his feet, the sun warming his skin. The odds that this was a dream or a nightmare were dwindling with every second that Ace spent hoping this wasn’t real.

Something crashed through the underbrush just past the tree line. Ace froze, then scooped up his shirt and gave chase. Branches lashed at his skin, but even though he hadn’t been this small in years, he still remembered all those days crashing around Goa Island. This place didn’t hold a candle to those wild forests.

The shadow darted left. Ace hooked a hand around a tree’s narrow trunk and swung after it, but he overestimated his reach and fell comically short. He tumbled to a stop, backside stinging, pride bruised.

As he raised his eyes from the ground, he met the gaze of a wild boar. It blinked at him, then, with a huff and a snort, turned and walked away.

That was what he’d been chasing? Ace let his head fall and scrubbed a hand through his hair. What was going on?

“And why am I a kid?” he mumbled. Sure enough, his voice came out way higher pitched than he was used to. Letting his hand fall, he tipped onto his back and stared up through the canopy. He hoped Luffy was okay. His sworn family, too. If they’d come all that way to save him only for him to disappear in the middle of it…Well, Pops would probably keep everyone in line. Marco, too.

He squinted as the sun came out from behind a cloud. What did he know? He was a kid again, for some reason. He was on some island he’d never seen before, for some reason. And, of course, he didn’t have his powers anymore, for some reason. The strategy he’d used to escape that island with Deuce wouldn’t fly here.

As the edge of another cloud took the edge off the sun’s glare, Ace’s skyward gaze fell on the mountains punching over the horizon.

Any kind of vantage point was better than nothing, right? At least he could see if there were any other islands nearby. If this was an archipelago, there were probably people on one of them, and where there were people there were ships.

Getting to the mountain was the easy part. As small as he was, and without being able to rocket himself upwards with his devil fruit, he found himself struggling to actually get up the mountain. Strength wasn’t the problem, but something as simple as a handhold being a couple feet out of reach was enough to stymie him until he found another way up.

By the time he got to the top, he was sweaty, dirty, and tired. He’d scraped his knees and bloodied his fingers before he’d realized that he could still use haki to protect himself from the damage he’d been able to ignore as a logia user.

He sat down hard, drawing in deep breaths. That had unequivocally sucked, but at least he was at the top now. He’d picked the shortest and closest mountain, figuring that anything out of sight from its peak would be out of his reach anyway. Once he had his breath back, he pushed himself to his feet and peered out over the ocean. The wind was much harsher up here, and he had to use a hand to shade his eyes from the sun. The light bouncing off the cresting waves was still bright enough to hurt.

No matter how long he looked, he only saw those waves. It was ocean as far as the eye could see. No other islands, no chain, and no people. Even though he’d kind of expected it, frustration still curled his lips into a frustrated scowl.

What was the point? Why was he here?

Releasing his irritation in a huff, he turned to start the long climb down. It would probably be easier than coming up, since he could use his haki to absorb some of the longer drops from ledge to ledge.

A blurry smudge near the horizon gave him pause. He stopped and peered out at it. Was it a cloud? No, it was getting closer. It was on the water.

His heart lifted. It was a ship.

He threw caution to the wind as he scrambled down the mountainside. His rushed haki didn’t save him from everything, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins numbed the pain. He landed hard on the forest floor, rolled to his feet, and then tore through the trees. He needed to give that ship a reason to stop at this island in case it was just sailing by. A kid waving from the beach would catch anyone’s eye, right?

Panting, bruised, and bleeding, he broke through the tree line, stumbled on the sand, and limped up to the water’s edge.

“Hey,” he croaked at the approaching ship. “Hey!”

He drew breath to yell a third time, but as he did, the wind changed. The ship’s crimson sails filled out, its flags snapped out horizontal, and Ace got a good look at the symbol emblazoned upon them all. His voice died.

A mustached skull and crossbones.

The Roger Pirates.

[writtingfiction]

Can i please get a post about my baby Marianne and the professor protecting her. She is my sweet little baby and i will protect her

I love her too! I may or may not have been a little self-indulgent on this one but do enjoy it! **** Also spoilers for the beginning dialogue for Marianne’s time-skip paralogue.  ****  ( ´△｀)

pairing: Byleth x Marianne

words: 1.5k

“There’s no reason to feign ignorance. I know all about you!”

“What-what are you talking about?”

“Just come here!”

Byleth moved quickly. Rushing down the stairs, his feet carrying him towards Marianne and the old slimy man that would dare lay a finger on her. He makes it just in time, stepping between Marianne and this grimy old man, slapping his hand away.

“Professor! Help!” Marianne’s voice sends alarm throughout Byleth. Anger starts to boil in his blood.

“Don’t interfere. Just hand the girl over to me.”

“Never.” His voice is cold as ice, although it doesn’t scare Marianne like it used to.

“I’m telling you this for your own good. You’re putting yourself in danger by associating with her.” The guy tries to explain himself. “Do you know the Wandering Beast stalking the woods in the Edmund territory? It is said that it attacks people every night and drags them off to feast. The true identity of the Wandering Beast… Is that girl right there!”

“No! I would never…” Marianne tries to speak up.

“Get out of here.” Byleth speaks next. The glare he sends to the slime of a man finally scares him.

“No matter.” He pauses, trying to keep his confidence but it’s hard with the way Byleth looks at him. “I’ll get the evidence I need.” He turns and leaves.

Byleth watches him with a careful eye and only when he is out of sight, he turns back to Marianne. He gives her a much softer look, a silent ask if she was ok. Marianne takes a breath.

“My apologies for getting you involved in that…” Marianne said soft-spoken.

“What happened?” Byleth asked, silently asking if she was ok. Marianne raises her head.

“In truth, that man has been following me ever since my father disappeared, he’s a crest scholar.” Byleth’s head tilts, basically asking the question for him,’why would he follow you?’ “The Crest that my father bore and passed down to me, it was… Maurice’s Crest. Also known as the Crest of the Beast.” Marianne closed her eyes and tilted her head down. Byleth could tell this troubled her, she sounded like she did five years ago. She goes on though, explaining the history and reason why people fear her crest so. Eventually saying that her crest, well, Maurice’s crest is a symbol of disaster. There’s a pause after she speaks.

“So, what the Scholar was saying about that rumour…”

“Yes, they say the beast bears some similarity to Maurice’s bestial form.”

“Then, if it’s defeated the rumour would be dispelled.” Byleth said, hands reaching out like it was an obvious point to make. A small spark of hope lights up in Marianne’s eyes.

“I couldn’t do it on my own, however, if I had some help from the golden deer…” Byleth was already nodding before she finished her sentence. The sparkle in her eye got brighter.

“Let’s go.”

— — — —

They reached the woods without a problem however, as they were marching through the forest, Marianne had stopped and looked off into the distance. It was almost as if she had pulled away from the group and before Byleth could stop her she was gone and lost in the fog. The heart rates of their fellow peers rose, calling out to her but it was too late.

Byleth takes a deep breath remembering their conversation back at the monastery before turning to friends. Calling for level heads, he makes a plan to create a rescue party while also being cautious at what could be in the forest. They moved as a group for a while before they heard the crack and boom of a spell being activated and trees breaking.

Byleth barked orders and they wasted no time moving out. The fliers were the ones to relay the information that Marianne was in trouble taking on a demonic beast on her own. Byleth felt his heart in his throat, he couldn’t lose her. He was going to make his way towards her through the forest but that only proved to be difficult as more beasts showed up.

It was difficult, scary even having to face down a demonic beast on her own. To be honest, she wasn’t holding up well either even with the healing tile that was in her reach. Things became overwhelming with more beasts showing up, it was hard to keep her head level as she tried to defend herself. Marianne realized just how much she relied on her old professor.

Marianne held up her hands, the spell Aura on her lips as her hands glowed brightly. To her luck, it had struck the beast twice and she just managed to dodge the large rock that came her way. She could hear the shouts of her friends. They were on their way, she could the beat of wings approached her as well. Was it Claude, or perhaps Petra? She would be grateful for either. However, when she looks up horror fills her.

It was a winged beast heading towards her. She tried to think of a spell but nothing was coming to mind. Stuck in place as the massive bird attacked her, sending harsh winds almost knocking her off her feet. There’s only enough time for her to look up when a large rock comes straight for her. She thinks she heard her friends call out to her but it’s muffled, she can’t hear anything. She closes her eyes, preparing herself for impact.

It hits her, or at least something does and she hits the ground. She carefully opens her eyes and she’s met with her Professor’s eyes. It takes a second for everything to register. Her old teacher had saved her life.

“Are you alright?” It’s quiet, his words.

“Yes, thank you, you saved me.” Marianne’s words are just as soft.

“Good.” Byleth speaks and gets up, pulling Marianne to her feet. When she’s on her feet Byleth immediately turns and faces the winged beast, creator sword in hand glowing bright. “Get to cover, Hilda, is to the south with Leonie and Ignatz. They’ll need your help.”

“Right!” Marianne follows the command, eyes focus on what’s ahead. Reaching the tree line as she hears her professor yell and the winged beast is felled.

— —

It is when they’re safe and sound back in the monastery that Marianne and Byleth are able to talk. Marianne speaks with her professor in the comfort of his old quarters. The room was in better shape compared to other bedrooms.

“How is your back professor?” Marianne asks. She knows the rock must have hurt him. Byleth makes eye contact with her before going to slowly remove his armour.

“It aches but I can’t see my own back, could you check for me?” Byleth said. Marianne nods. Byleth undoes his armour and peels off his shirt to reveal his back to Marianne.

The armour did take a lot of damage from the rock that was thrown towards them. Marianne had assumed Byleth’s back would be fine, he was without complaints. However, the black bruise that shaped along his back said something else. The bruise had almost covered his entire back, shaping diagonally. Starting from his right shoulder blade down across his mid-back and spine, ending at his lower left. Blooming from there, the bruise reached outwards. Her hands shakily touched his back, trying to see if there were any cuts but Byleth hissed quietly.

“I’m-i’m sorry!! Did I hurt you?” Marianne said. Byleth shakes his head.

“Your hands are just cold.” Byleth said. Marianne sighs in relief but a large frown sits on her face.

“Professor, your back…” Marianne trails off, hands finding small cuts along his back hidden in the black of his bruise. The armour probably dug a little into his skin when the rock hit. She realizes that this rock could’ve ended her life if Byleth had not taken the hit for her. Tears start to form in her eyes, and she can’t stop them.

Byleth perks up when Marianne’s hands leave his back in exchange for a cold tear hitting his back. He turns in his seat to see Marianne in tears. He stands from his seat, hands holding her shoulders. His voice is quiet as he asks what’s wrong, concern strong within his chest. Marianne’s sob for a moment slow, only to speak.

“If-if-if you didn’t take the hit,” Marianne sobbed. “I would have died. Professor, I could have died, you could have died!!” At this moment Byleth realizes Marianne is not the sad girl he knew five years ago. He knows now that Marianne would rather fight to stay alive than accept her death so easily.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, you and I are both alive.” Byleth said. Marianne shakes her.

“I could have lost you, again. I don’t want to lose you a second time, Byleth.”  Marianne said sniffing and wiping away tears. Byleth takes a moment, eyes downcast. Marianne fears she said something wrong but when Byleth looks her in the eye, there’s nothing to fear.

“You won’t. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.” Byleth said in full quiet confidence. He pulled her into a hug, mumbling into her hair whispering that he’ll never leave her alone again.

[ampleappleamble]

—

Axa could feel them watching her as they settled into their room at the Goose and Fox that night, could feel them wanting to know her. Not only so they could understand why she had done what she had with Purnisc and Kaenra, but also so they could (no doubt) uncover and examine all the painful, humiliating life experiences behind her every decision, all her successes and failures, and then judge her accordingly. Like kith will, she thought, of course. That’s normal and healthy to think.

Genuine concern mingled with morbid curiosity, hung palpably over the group like a scythe posed to reap as everyone sat in awkward silence and waited for Axa to break the silence. So she drained her goblet, got out her pipe and her whiteleaf, and with a grim sense of determination, she told them about it.

About the career she'd built back in Ixamitl, where she had lucked into a scholarship to one of her hometown's more prestigious lore colleges, bestowed on her by a generous politician acquainted with her father. Because she'd always loved to learn and hear stories about kith from around the world, she had chosen to put her good fortune to good use and study to become a naturalist, concerning herself with the cultures and languages and histories that constituted the kith population of Eora.

While most of her colleagues had decided to specialize in Vailian– a popular choice for the political or business-oriented crowd– Axa fancied herself an intellectual, and so she had challenged herself with mastering Ordhjóma: the exotic, mysterious language of the Glamfellen, separated for 10,000 years from their tropical Sceltrfolc cousins in the far-flung, frozen south, in The White that Wends. She had thrown herself into her studies, blowing through massive tomes and ancient scrolls like a hurricane, outperforming her peers with ease. Within four years, Axa had risen like a Dawnstar to the top of her class.

And then the field work had begun.

"It's one thing to read about a people, learn their language from books and study up on their culture," Axa explained, stuffing her pipe slowly, taking her time. "It's quite another to visit their homeland, speak with them, live among them. I was barely seventeen, I'd never even been out of the city..."

Kana winced, painful recognition in his black eyes. "Culture shock can be particularly difficult for younger scholars. We have certain expectations after all our years of academic study, and to find out that the genuine article doesn't quite measure up after all that work can feel disorienting and disappointing. There's not only the shock, there's anger at the natives, and then the guilt over said anger..."

Axa accepted Aloth's proffered light while Kana trailed off– it always delighted her, using arcane flame for something so trivial as a smoke– and sighed. "That's what was really odd about it. I did experience some culture shock, but ultimately the problem wasn't me. It was them. I know it sounds like I'm just being bitter, but... honestly, for whatever reason, the whole village really was actively freezing me out."

"Nice," Edér chuckled, grinning at the unintentional pun until Aloth's glare chastised him back into solemnity.

"No one wanted to talk to me," Axa continued. "Oh, I tried, incessantly, but they just... kept turning away, or answering with nonsense or... or riddles. My colleagues had little difficulty integrating, but I felt like I was just barely tolerated by the villagers. I tried asking the other students about it, but they either feigned ignorance really well or they honestly couldn't tell what these Glamfellen had against me."

"Some sort of... racial prejudice, perhaps?" Aloth looked as uncomfortable as he sounded, but at least the topic was finally broached. Axa shrugged.

"I don't think so, but I honestly have no idea. The other three scholars with me weren't orlans, but they weren't Glamfellen either. And no one ever specifically said anything about my being an orlan."

Sagani nodded. "In my experience, while most Glamfellen tend to be as standoffish as any elf– no offense, Aloth– they don't usually have specific prejudices like that."

"Right? Ordinarily, unity and hospitality are taken very seriously in the frozen south; to support one another is indispensable to survival. Nevertheless, I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong by them, and it was driving me out of my gods damned mind. I was supposed to be studying local accents, dialects, and colloquialisms, but that's somewhat difficult when nobody will actually speak with you. So I ended up spending a lot of time eavesdropping on people, mostly outside, by myself."

Sagani shook her head, drawing her whetstone across her hunting knife. "Bad idea to go it alone out there in the White. All kinds of dangers hiding in the snow."

The orlan barked a sharp, sardonic laugh. "You're telling me. That's how I met Vaargys."

As soon as his name was out of her mouth, Axa could feel her entire demeanor transform, and the atmosphere in the room with her. It was the first time she'd said his name since she'd left home, and even though she knew they'd already been listening, her little audience really seemed to be listening now. She felt her face get warm and her eyes sting from the impending tears, so she turned to the window, trying hard to focus on the streets outside and not at her own reflection in the glass.

Come on, girl. You’ve run far enough. It's time you faced this.

"I spotted him from afar one day at dusk: a dark, distant, shaggy figure out there among the rocks, shambling around just beyond the village's borders. It took me a few minutes to even realize he was kith. My colleagues noticed me watching him eventually, warned me away from him: the 'wild man' the locals called the 'Cursed Vagabond,' the 'Exiled Priest.' And he was out there all alone, struggling to survive because nobody wanted him around, and no one could say why..."

"You had a lot in common," Aloth murmured gravely. It wasn't difficult to see where this story was going. And he couldn't help but think it sounded similar, thematically, to one he knew quite well.

"And kith will paint a face on a rock with their own blood if it means they can have someone to talk to," Sagani sighed sadly, sympathy heavy in her chest. She could see where this was going too, and she dug her fingers into the thick fur on the back of Itumaak's neck for comfort. He grunted in appreciation.

"So I introduced myself, like you do. He was... cautious, but receptive. It helped that I'd brought gifts." Axa exhaled, and blue smoke curled up before her, walling her off. "We got to know one another, and over time we became fond of each other. We started sharing meals and stories about ourselves, our lives. He told me he was a priest of Wael, self-taught, and exiled from his clan for venerating the Eyeless Face instead of the Beast of Winter... He let me get close to him, cut his hair, tend to his wounds..." The tears spilled over at last, and she paused for a moment, hid her face.

"And you fell in love," Sagani finished for her. Classic. Tale as old as time.

Axa smiled again even as she brushed her tears away, dragging her little fist across her golden brown cheeks. "And I fell hard. I was his first real friend, gave him his first kiss. And very soon, I became his first lover." This made the men blush and look away. Axa and Sagani paid them no heed.

"I was fascinated by him, and he adored me. We made our own little world together there in the caves, in the snow. And we lived there, separate from everyone and everything else. Until I had to return to Ixamitl, of course. But I had a plan: Before I could talk myself out of it, I asked him to marry me– the very night before I was to return to the Eastern Reach. ...Gods, I had known him for only five months."

"And... wait, how old were you?" Edér spoke up for the first time since Axa had started her story, confusion clear on his face.

"I– Seventeen, almost eighteen by the time I went back home," she clarified, miffed at the interruption. "I'm twenty-two, now."

The blond man held his hands out in front of him, squinting at his fingers, baffled. "And... and how old were you when you left home? Hey, how old was he?"

Kana sighed and leaned over, patting him on the shoulder with one huge hand and confiscating the man's pipe with the other. "Erh– Never mind that now, my friend. Please, Axa, continue." He smiled that big, toothy smile at the little woman, and she blinked very slowly.

"...I brought him home to meet my family and colleagues, to assist me in my studies since all I'd really brought back from the Land was him, and ultimately, hopefully, to become my husband. In the interest of brevity– albeit somewhat belated– here’s how all that turned out: my family and colleagues hated and distrusted him, and after I had defended him so fiercely I'd alienated myself from most of my peers, I found out that about three-quarters of everything he'd ever told me about his home and his language was complete horseshit and all of our work together was complete bunkum. So! I burned it all in a big bonfire behind our house before telling him to leave and never come back." She ticked her misfortunes off on her fingers as she described them, her hands trembling, and then gesticulated fiercely before letting her fists fall to the small tabletop before her. "And then... I left, too. And now, here I am."

...Gods, that was easy. Much easier than I thought it'd be. Why was it so–

She rambled on before she could lose her nerve. "So. That's why I... wanted to do that for Kaenra. My fiancé lied to me and fucked up my life, too, and I can't just ignore that kind of shit when I see it anymore." She sighed, turning to the window again with her pipe still burning away in her hand. "Vaargys is the reason I had to leave my home and everything I've ever known, because his lies ruined my career and my academic standing and my reputation. How could I just stand by and watch as it happened to someone else?"

"Yet, you advised Kaenra to forgive Purnisc?" Aloth twisted his fingers together in his lap, staring at them rather than looking at Axa as he spoke. "After... all he'd done?"

Sagani glanced at him, narrowing her eyes as he reached up to smooth his hair– and wipe away a stray bead of sweat in the process. Is it my imagination, or is he...?

Axa kept her gaze fixed on the street below. "Yeah, that sort of surprised me too, to be honest." She spotted a stray soul, its violet wisps of essence drifting slowly amongst the city goers, and she squeezed her eyes shut, felt them burn behind her eyelids. "I suppose... I just got the feeling that it wasn't too late for them, that what they had for each other wasn't so broken it couldn't be repaired. Vaargys and me... not so. There was no coming back from what he'd done, and we both knew it."

"Whatever became of him? Of Vaargys?" Kana leaned forward eagerly, his eyes shining with compassion. For once, he actually wasn't taking notes on the conversation, and Sagani noticed that, too.

Axa opened her eyes, and saw the lost soul on the street no more. She shuddered. "After I confronted him, Vaargys simply... left. Vanished into the horizon, just as abruptly as he'd first appeared to me. And then, I got to clean up after him– after us– all alone. I wasn't up to the task; wasn't really up to the task of anything but hiding in bed and regretting my entire life. I could really only scrape together the wherewithal every now and then to go out and sell off or give away all the ridiculous trinkets and baubles we'd accumulated together. A few of the things I tried to get rid of turned out to be stolen, of course– big surprise, Axa, he's a thief and a liar– which did my already brutalized image no favors. Nor my purse, when I was obliged to pay out of my pocket for his chicanery."

"Villain," Kana spat, shaking his head slowly. "Scoundrel! ...Oh, how dastardly, to sow discord between the woman he loves and her neighbors and colleagues, then to abscond, completely free of reproach!" His sorrowful frown was as huge and expressive as his smiles always were, almost theatrically so.

Sagani just barely looked over in time to spot Aloth surreptitiously roll his eyes, and she couldn't suppress her grin. I thought so. Ondra's Lure, they're pretty obvious now that I think of it...

The elf cleared his throat and took the reins. "Shall we assume, then, that your family and friends were unable or unwilling to aid you in your time of need?"

Axa scoffed. "My little brother was sympathetic, but ultimately powerless to help me. He's stuck too far under our mother's thumb. He's a Godlike, and it's made things... difficult, for both of them. He feels obligated to her. As for our mother, she blamed me for my own misfortunes, for 'shacking up' with a man like Vaargys in the first place. So... that sort of says it all about our relationship. My father hasn't been in the picture since I was 13, and any non-academic friends I hadn't already traded for school, I ended up trading for Vaargys. I'd made him my whole world, and he–" She stopped herself, puffed on her pipe. "I don't... really make new friends easily. Never have."

Kana laughed good-naturedly. "With all due respect, present company seems to indicate quite the contrary."

"Ha! Since becoming a Watcher with her own castle who offers to help everyone she meets solve all their problems, I do seem to be quite popular, yes," the orlan agreed with a wry smirk. "...I jest, of course. In any case, the friends I do make, I tend to keep. And cherish." She smiled at Kana earnestly, and now he averted his eyes and went ruddy in the face.

Sagani and Aloth surprised one another, simultaneously faking coughing fits to cover their derisive snorts. Kana went even redder, but still managed a sheepish smile as Axa quickly redirected back to the topic at hand.

"In any case, it was my mother who gave me the idea to relocate to the Dyrwood. She brought back the notice advertising the caravan from the marketplace, threw it at me as I lay in my little nest of quilts and despair, and told me I had better either try and do something to rebuild my life or I may as well just return my soul to the Wheel to start a new one, save it some time and trouble."

"So... in response to your fiancé sabotaging your career and your reputation in your own home community, your own mother told you to... choose between self-exile and suicide?" Aloth spoke very quietly, very carefully. When Axa nodded and shrugged, puffing nonchalantly on her pipe, he couldn't quite come up with anything to say to that.

"As harsh as it sounds," she pressed on as she rose and crossed the room to stand before the hearth, "I agreed with her. I still do. Mama grew up a slave and only finally earned her freedom by running away, so maybe she's biased, but... I was never going to be able to move on like that, lying around like I was dead already, surrounded by bad memories. I had to do something, get up and get out. And wouldn’t it be my luck, she dropped a nice, pre-packaged escape plan in my lap, just like that. Nicest thing she'd done for me in a good long while. ...So. That's what lead me to the Dyrwood."

"And then it lead you to the bîaŵac, the Engwithan ruins, the machine," Kana murmured, rubbing his chin and studying the little woman. "Perchance, did you ever pray to Wael that you might live an interesting life? Because if so, you've had your wish granted many times over!"

"It's funny," Axa sighed as she bent and tapped her pipe against the bricks of the fireplace, "you'd think I'd hold a grudge against Wael, allowing Their priest to make a fool of me like that. But in the end, I had to admit that although he betrayed my trust and wrecked my life, Vaargys hadn't actually ever violated any of Wael's tenets. ...Made me rethink the gods, a bit. Maybe he was a true servant of Wael after all, sent to guide me here for some reason. And I do still pray to Wael for guidance, on occasion."

The aumaua sat up in his chair, beaming. "Ah! Shall we go to the Hall of Revealed Mysteries tomorrow after all, then? We can ask the scriveners' opinion!"

"Gods! I spill my guts to you, and you're still thinking about going to the library?" Axa shook her head and chuckled. "You're a mystery, Kana."

"Wait, so... you were gonna marry a pale elf?" Edér mumbled into his pillow, half asleep and trying to kick his boots off. "But you're an orlan. Would that... how would that work?"

The little woman threw the sheets back on her bed, using a little more force than she'd meant to. "Another mystery, Edér," she snapped, rolling her eyes. "Mysteries abound."

The other two men winced as Sagani laid a gentle, steady hand on the orlan's shoulder. "Hey. ...Hel of a day for all of us. Let's call it a night, yeah?"

So they did.

—

[alolowrites]

Sleepless Nights

Summary: Bakugou can’t sleep ever since the brutal breakup and decides to do something about it.

Author’s Note: Here is the second story for @bnhabookclub​’s Hero Camp Bingo event. The prompt I used was Betrayal. It’s been a while since I wrote a Bakugou story, so of course he became my latest victim for an angst story (lmao). Don’t worry, it does end on a good note! 

As always, please enjoy!

Word Count: 2.1K+

Bakugou is restless.

Crimson eyes glare at the dark ceiling and his left arm unconsciously reaches over to hold you closer to him—splat.

A cold bedside greets his rough hand, the silky sheets bunching up in his deadly grasp. Luckily the linens are not alive, or else they would be begging for mercy. Nitroglycerin secretes on his palms without fail, seeping through the thin fabric; it will turn into an unrecognizable, ashy pile if he ignites the sweat beads. Bakugou hesitates because these sheets are your favorite.  

He jostles the gray covers off his body with a vicious growl. Bakugou forgot you aren’t sleeping with him anymore after what happened three weeks ago. Grudgingly sitting up, he slams his back against the headboard. Bakugou shoves his face into his rough hands and grits his teeth as he remembers that unfortunate night—damn his stupid mouth.

Bakugou breathes through his nose and reaches to turn on his lamp. The dim yellow light partially illuminates his face, but fails to brighten the darkness swirling inside his heart. He’s broken and wallowing in his despair. Both fists curl until his nails dangerously dig into his skin, a small trickle of blood oozing out that makes him curse, “Fucking hell.”

His bed groans as Bakugou gets off and trudges out the bedroom to find the first-aid kit. He annoyingly rummages through the bathroom’s cabinets, your face mask packets spilling out on the floor. The woman’s perky fake smile irritates him to no end, his right eye twitching nonstop. Bakugou aggressively shoves them back inside as he yells, “What are you so damn happy about, idiot?!”

The cabinet door cracks after he slams it with brute force; a staggered breath escapes his mouth as he grips the sink’s edge, ignoring the sting from the fresh wounds. Bakugou lifts his head until he stares at his heated reflection. Bloodshot irises glare back at him, his ashy blonde hair even more disheveled than usual. A blue kit sticks out like a sore thumb, and Bakugou snatches it; he freezes when he reads the words “Blasty’s First Aid Kit” affectionately written across the cover.

A gut-wrenching punch attacks him without warning. Growling, he shuts the light off and storms to the living room. Bakugou tosses the kit on the coffee table, plopping down on the couch to get this shit over with. He carelessly rips the alcoholic wipe’s package, tasting the bitter flavor now burning his tongue and hissing when he rubs the napkin on his bloody scratch.  

Unraveling the gauze, Bakugou realizes something is off. He hears no laughter or snarky comment coming at him. Ironically, the living room feels dead; it’s as if someone came in with a vacuum and sucked out any hint of warmth in this place. The blonde man glances at his palm with a frown. Usually, you’re the one tending to his wounds while scolding at him for his reckless behavior. He pretends to hate it, but deep down, he appreciates how much you love him.

Bakugou wishes he’d done the same for you that night.

“Babe, I’m home!” You kick off your shoes near the front door. A hand massages your neck as you crave for a nice, hot bath to soothe your sore muscles; work has been a pain in the butt lately. Once the keys fall in the bowl, you realize how everything is eerily quiet. There’s no ruckus coming from the kitchen or a delicious smell greeting you by the entrance.

You raise a curious eyebrow and walk down the hallway. Each step grows more burdensome, the floor creaking under your tense weight. Turning the corner, you see your boyfriend sitting on the couch. He’s hunched over as his fingers anxiously twiddle above his knees. Despite looking down, you notice the permanent scowl on his face and become worried, “Katsuki?”

“You’re an hour late,” he grumbles, still not looking up.

“I got held up at the office,” you cautiously approach to the brutish man with a slight frown. The black bag settles on the coffee table, “There was so much paperwork to get done before the deadline. I also needed to help out Shimizu—”

“Can’t that dumbass ask someone else?!” Bakugou barks like a mad dog, his heated eyes glaring straight at you. They catch you off guard, “Aren’t there other extras at your damn agency who can help? Or do you love spending time with him, huh?”

You seethe, “What the hell is your problem, Katsuki? He’s the new sidekick, and my boss assigned me to show him the ropes. Nothing is happening between us, so calm the fuck down!”

“Like I fucking believe that!” Bakugou shoots up from his spot, the ground shaking from his harsh stomps, “Why does he keep calling you after work-hours? Why is he always so close to you while you two are out on patrol?”

“Oh my gosh, this again?!” You exasperatedly throw your hands over your head. “Are we really gonna argue about this shit? Katsuki,” you march closer to him, pinching your nose for a quick second, “For the millionth time: Nothing. Is. Happening. Between. Us! Why don’t you believe me?!”

Bakugou scoffs, and a flash of irritation crosses your face, “What do you want me to do, huh, Katsuki? Do you want me to quit my job—”  

“Fuck yeah I do!” He interrupts, making your mouth fall in astonishment. Did your ears hear those words correctly? His mouth starts running on its own, “At least it will give me some peace of mind knowing you’re not screwing around with him behind my back—”

Bakugou freezes when a harsh slap strikes his cheek.

Tears well up in your mortified eyes. It’s unclear whether they are like this because of his offensive words or the fact you laid a hand on him. Either way, you back away from the stunned pro hero. The hand that delivered the blow continues to shake uncontrollably; you bring it closer to your chest. Bakugou finally comes to his senses and blinks his pale eyes at you.

After the shock subsides, you furiously jab a finger at him, screeching, “How dare you accuse me of doing something like that! How dare you accuse me of cheating on you when all I ever did was love you!”

“Wait!” Bakugou stumbles over his feet, and you stagger backward, “Shit, no. I-I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t!” The razor-sharp tone cuts through with as much strength as Kirishima’s hardening quirk. Bakugou stops in his tracks. Your body quivers with tears raining down to your chin, “Don’t apologize…don’t come after me…we’re through.”

The last thing Bakugou hears is the front door loudly slam behind you; he’s sure everyone in Japan heard it. And the first thing he feels after you’re gone is his broken heart wallowing in pure agony.

Bakugou punches the cushion, muffling down a cry trying to escape his lips. He’s living in a nightmare that never ends. The bitter breakup constantly replays in his mind, haunting his thoughts. It reminds him of how pathetic his life is right now. Every morning he notices the tear stains getting larger on his pillowcase, and every night, before going to bed, he feels the emptiness expanding on his right side.

His bed is now just cold, unwelcoming, and unnecessarily giant—he hates it.

Bakugou rushes back to his room, randomly picking a pair of gray sweatpants and putting them on. The lamp’s light barely helps him as he searches for his black sweater; it lounges on his chair, and the hero hurriedly pulls the hoodie over his head. The last thing he grabs is his keys and phone before exiting his apartment. After suffering in this hell hole for three weeks, he’s desperate for an escape.  

Fortunately, the weather is tolerable for his late-night journey. However, he would trudge through anything—heavy rain, typhoon-like winds, massive snowbanks—to get to you. In his mind and heart, Bakugou knows he needs to make things right with you. Sure, you two fight and argue, but it never goes too far except for that regrettable night; he crossed a line. You are the best thing in his life, and he foolishly let your relationship slip through his fingers like sand. Bakugou needs you, and for once, he’ll push his bloated pride aside to beg for your forgiveness.

But first, he has the find you. It won’t be an easy feat considering you could be anywhere; he figures you’re staying at a friend’s apartment, and Bakugou accepts the fact it will be a long night. Pulling the dark hood over his head, he shoves his hands inside the pockets and treks down the bare streets to begin his journey.  

The first two stops are a complete miss. One friend answers the door with droopy eyes and a roaring yawn—she has no idea where you are. The second friend scratches his wild bed hair; he’s so tired that he accidentally calls Bakugou “Shadow Dude” and shakes his head when asked if you’re staying in his apartment. Bakugou wonders if both your friends lied to him, but he gives them the benefit of the doubt and picks up the pace.

He arrives at the next apartment, praying that you’re here. Third time’s the charm, right?

Climbing the never-ending stairs, he finally reaches the fourth floor. Bakugou’s eyes bounce until they land on the correct apartment number. With a deep sigh, he knocks on the door a couple of times, hoping it’s loud enough to wake up your friend; the hero stops after no one answers him. His forehead softly hits on the door, a muffled thud echoing around him. Just as Bakugou turns around, the door creaks, and a faint voice stops him in his tracks, “K-Katsuki?”

Wobbling by the door with confused eyes is you; Bakugou’s breath hitches as his stance falters. He wonders if you’re just a figment of his imagination that will disappear in a blink of an eye. When you don’t, he slowly steps forward as if he’s walking on thin ice, putting the hood down. Your vision finally adjusts to the dim light shining in the hallway, and Bakugou whispers, “Hey…”

“What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep…”

“That makes two of us,” you mumble and lean against the doorframe. Despite this, your cold glare forces the hero to stay in place, “I’m still upset with you.”

“I know,” Bakugou lowers his head in shame. You glance at his bandaged hands, and your scowl softens at his lousy attempt to fix the wounds. Did he injure himself again? Bakugou rakes one hand through his messy hair, “What I said to you wasn’t right; I know you would never betray my trust, but I let my stupid jealousy cloud my damn thoughts. I’m a fucking idiot with a big ass mouth.”

You swallow a small gulp, “Yeah, you are.”  

Bakugou tests the water by taking another step. This time you don’t say anything to stop him, and he takes it as a sign to get closer. Unconsciously, you cross your arms over your chest and gaze at your purple slippers shuffling on the cold tile floor. Your heart pounds like a jackhammer as the electricity buzzes impatiently in the thick air.

A dark shadow looms over your personal space. You hesitate to raise your head, but Bakugou’s warmth radiating off his body convinces you otherwise; he leaves only a slight gap between you two. Now that Bakugou is close, you notice the deep anguish whirling through his eyes; it’s like staring at your own reflection—a shudder runs down your spine.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, shutting his eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry for hurting you so much with my ignorant ass. You mean so much to me that I can’t take another second sleeping in that bed alone. I fucking miss you…”

Bakugou’s hands slide up your jittery arms, reawakening the spark that almost died inside you. He pleads like a desperate man, “Please give me a second chance…I love you too much to have you out of my life.”

Two arms instantly circle his neck, clinging onto him like no tomorrow. Your quiet sniffles reach his right ear, and Bakugou hugs you tighter in his warm embrace. Ghostly kisses pepper down your face until he captures your lips and pours his entire heart and soul into you. Delicate fingers run through his ashy hair and give it a soft tug as you smile against his lips, “I hate how much I love you, Blasty.”

A chuckle rumbles through his chest.

“Now c’mon,” you pull him inside the apartment, guiding the hero to your room, “We both need to catch up on our beauty sleep.”

Bakugou agrees with a soft grunt.

Climbing into bed together, you two finally fall soundly asleep in each other’s arms for the first time since the breakup.

And that’s the second prompt crossed off from this bingo card! Which once will be next? Stay tune!

Previous Prompt: Adopt a Pet

Thanks for reading!!

Hero Camp Bingo Masterlist

[ceratonia-siliqua]

Sunshine

Baby’s first stucky fic! A/B/O based on a post from awhile back about omegas being soft and smelling good after laying in the sun. If I find it again I will link it!

Written because of prompting from @the1918 and @howdoyousleep3. It’s not my usual poetic musings but sometimes you just need some unadulterated fluff. 

Warnings: The lightest, barest amount of angst if you squint. This work is also left ambiguous as to the history prior to this so it can be as close or as far from canon as you would like it to be!

Sunlight, unfettered and sweet filtered through the window. Cast a long glowing shadow across the light wooden flooring. The light traced the imperfection in the wood, every scratch and gorge on display. It was a sight, one made homely by the nest pooling across the floor. It was small, temporary, one built by an omega for comfort than by an alpha for home. A lump made warm and honeyed by the light rested in it’s center. Long strands of hair stuck out wildly from it, messy in a sleepy way. A way that made Steve’s heart melt into a molten, sticky mess. 

He slowly made his way over, taking in the sight of his omega in a state of sound and utter peace. Bucky had burrowed face down, hiding his eyes from the light while his skin absorbed the vibrant smell that came from it. To Steve it was the smell of a happy omega. He’d never once known an omega to be sour after a sun bath, especially not Buck. Bucky always smelled like peaches, the sun ripened him till he smelled like cobbler. It was addictive, Steve’s favorite smell on earth. 

He’d been watching for awhile now. Morning coffee in one hand, newspaper forgotten in the other. He watched Bucky build the nest, had offered to help but was politely ignored. Steve may have a tendency to go overboard with nests. When he’d been a skinny slip of a thing he’d committed himself to perfecting the art. It was the one alpha role he could fulfill and do truly well. He’d rent books from the library and spend hours memorizing the best techniques. It felt silly looking back but it had been one of the only providing roles he’s ever thought he could meet. Ultimately, it had been a good time investment if the nest in their bedroom was any indicator. Bucky had once joked the only thing it was missing was Steve going apeshit with a baddazler. 

A massive sigh came from the Bucky shaped lump on their living room floor. The kind that only comes from complete and utter contentment. Steve couldn’t resist anymore. He set his coffee and newspaper on the dining table, never looking away from the sundrenched spot. His footsteps didn’t seem to alert Bucky in the slightest, a trust built in the space of their life together. Their home provided them both safety, safety they needed after so much of their lives spent constantly in and out of war. It was nice to finally have a physical space to call home, even if that was Bucky’s title before the four plaster walls surrounding them. He carefully stepped into the nest, straddling the space over Bucky before folding down on top of him. 

Bucky jumped but settled as Steve’s nose burrowed into his neck. His skin was warm and sweet, Steve couldn’t help but get a few openmouthed kisses in so he could get a taste. Couldn’t ever get enough of Bucky, especially like this. Nearly liquid under him, Bucky’s purrs were gentle and sleepy. He worried his own rumbling would be too much, but he received no complaints as the sun warmed his back as his sun sweetened omega heated his front. It was blissful, he wished they could stay there, unmoving, for the rest of their natural lives. 

The shifting beneath him seemed like it would end that wish, but Bucky had simply turned onto his back, tucking his face into Steve’s neck and getting his fill of his beloved alpha’s scent. He’d told Steve once that he smelled like pines, he wondered if the sun changed that the way it did Bucky’s. Their joined scent, something sharp and fresh with a homely edge to soften it, flooded the space around them. The sun mellowed it into a hazy cloud. 

“Steve?”

“Mhm?”

“Are we still supposed to go to that charity event Tony is putting on?”

Well, that killed the mood a bit. He sighed, “Yes, we do.”

“How many rounds do you think we can get in before we have to be ready?”

The scents in the room suddenly turned deeper, mustier, Bucky shuddered beneath him. “Why don’t we find out, sugar?”

_____

The smell of sun didn’t leave. Even after fucking like they were dying, the vibrant smell lingered in unexpected places, most notably, Bucky’s hair. It made getting ready difficult on Bucky’s part. 

“Steve I swear to god-”

“I’m not doing anything!”

“Get your nose out of my hair for five seconds so I can get shit put together!” Bucky hip checked him hard enough that Steve let up. Made puppy eyes at his mate’s back even as his very name was cursed to the heavens. The clacking of hangers across the rack followed him as he sat down on a chair by the closet, watched as Bucky tried to find them both outfits. 

“You know Buck, you don’t have to dress me. I’m fine doing it on my own.” If looks could kill Steve may have ended up with two knives in his ribs with the way Bucky was glaring. 

“Steve, there are a lot of things society expects out of me, most of which they can shove right up their asses, but I will not be the omega that lets his mate leave the house dressed like a doormat.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you dress yourself like a cardboard box, Steve.” 

“I’m wounded Buck, I really am.” The pout he put on was usually successful but rarely a trick he pulled. Something about the dinner had to be stressing his poor baby out if he was this snippy after most of the day in bed. 

Bucky sighed, running his fingers through his hair, still drying from the shower. “I’m sorry Stevie, it’s not your fault. There is a lot of press coverage at this event and I don’t want to give them ammunition against you.”

Oh, oh. Things were clicking now. The press had been a problem for a while now. Steve knew what Bucky meant but wasn’t saying. For some reason, a magazine company had started running slander campaigns against Bucky. In a way it was to be expected, Bucky wasn’t a traditionalist, and neither was Steve when it came down to it. They’d both dumped enough expectations for their roles in the garbage to be on equal ground but Bucky got the worst of it. Everything he did was picked apart. Most of it was laughable, but there were things that got to him, mainly those which targeted Steve. Bucky could handle more than anyone he’d ever met, but Steve had never seen him more devastated than the day four articles had come out about Steve wearing mismatched shoes. All the blame had been pinned to his poor omega. The gossip circles had labeled Bucky as neglectful. One of the few “omega specific” tasks he was known to partake in was dressing Steve. When they had been nothing more than two starving Brooklyn kids, Bucky had been determined to take care of Steve when his body shit out on him. One of the few things he’d let Bucky truly do was dress him. They had a rhythm, tops always went on first. Unless he was too weak to lift his arms Bucky would simply pass shirts, jackets, and coats for Steve to do himself. Most days Bucky only put his feet through the legs of his pants for him, letting Steve pull them up when he stood. There were plenty of times on the other hand, where Buck had needed to vault Steve into standing by his belt loops so they could get him up long enough to get his pants on. 

Steve knew all of this, very well in fact, but the media didn't. They hadn’t seen Bucky, eighteen with only a few dollars to his name, beaten and worn down. Hadn’t seen the exhaustion skittering across every nerve. Didn’t know that despite being dead on his feet, Bucky would always make sure Steve was taken care of first. No one deserved the level of disrespect going on, but Bucky shouldn’t have even been on the radar. The shoe mix up had been his own fault. Bucky had been sick, throwing up at even the slightest suggestion of light. He had gotten dressed in the dark and ran to the store, hadn’t even thought about what he might look like, laser focused on his task instead. Bucky needed medicine and Steve needed Bucky well. That was all he had thought at the time.

“Buck, we don’t have to go.”

Eyes fluttered to the side, Bucky wouldn’t look at him. “I want to go, and it wouldn’t be fair to Tony to leave him to the dogs like that.”

Steve nearly snorted, Tony wouldn’t notice them failing to pop in, and even if he did it wouldn’t be remembered the next morning. 

“Sweetheart,” He stood up, went and placed both his hands on Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky peaked at him from the corner of his eyes. “You don’t have to make yourself uncomfortable to make others comfortable. We can stay home, watch a movie, order some take-out.” 

Bucky looked over his shoulder at their closet. He held himself like he was expecting something to jump out at him, like a timer was set to go off any second to spell some horrible doom. Steve wanted to call it right then and there, force them to stay home, but Bucky would fight him on it and go out of spite. He cupped the side of his darling mate’s face and coaxed him into eye contact. Blue and grey met and blended, met and crashed, met and free fell backwards into each other. There was trust, so much trust. It bellied his own concerns, left him hovering there waiting for an answer. Bucky would make the choice he needed too, even if it wasn’t the one Steve would have made for him. From day one he had sworn to be an alpha Bucky could respect, one that he would be proud to stand by. Part of that was letting go in moments like this. He looked into those eyes, the ones that belonged to his heart, and sent a silent message. It’s your choice. Your call. I will follow you wherever you take me, us. It was intense even for such a simple choice, but that was always how it was between them. 

Bucky’s nose turned into his wrist, silent puffs of air sliding over his skin as Bucky drew in his scent. He closed his eyes for a few time-stopping seconds before those haunting grey eyes peaked beneath fluttering lashes. 

“...Let’s stay home.” A smile turned the corner of his lips, an expression Steve would never stop loving. “But I get to pick the movie. You’re still on a two week probation after making me watch Baby Driver.” 

Steve couldn’t resist dipping down, stealing a kiss across slightly chapped lips. The kiss stolen at the end of his love’s sentence was sweet. The traces of sunlight only made it sweeter.

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 20: Energy - The Green Sun Project Chap.10: Time To Score For The Cannibal Core

Danny’s gonna need a bit to recover and recover his energy. Energy that is very ectoplasm focused.

“DANNY!!!”. Danny winces a bit on the ground from the volume of that, but he isn’t about to bitch about his heightened hearing anywhere near his parents.

Sam and Tucker immediately grabbing his arms while going a little wide-eyed over the horrid state of his shirt. He probably looks like he got mauled, which he kinda had. By a scythe. Which was still hilarious. Danny mumbling an, “I'm fine”. Which of course gets two, “bullshit”’s in response. While his parents kneel next to him, Maddie hovering her fingers over him cautiously for a beat before pulling his shirt. Everyone, including Danny, sighing over the complete lack of injuries. ‘Massive thank you for your crazy ass healing, little buddy’.

‘Home’s home. Safe’

‘Yeah. Safe.... hopefully’. He absolutely appreciates his friends pulling him to sit up but his parents just look like they’re studying him. Jack looking in the direction where he had flopped out of a portal, “he came through a portal...”, then giving Maddie a look.

Sam and Tucker both scowl at his parents, Tucker moving to grab his legs and the two of them carry him off inside his house and to the couch. His parents don’t even bother following in a surprise to no one.

Sam grumbling, “there are times I truly hate your parents”. Danny just hums at that while Tucker pokes his shirt where there’s not bloodstains, “why’s your shirt look like you attempted to send it through a meat grinder?”.

Danny chuckles slightly emptily, “oh I don’t know. I just got impaled by a scythe, it’s no big deal. And shot a couple times, no problems here. Little mild abduction happened too, but we’re all good. I know what it’s like die now though, so that’s something to stamp out on the injury bingo card”. Both of them glare at him and his Core gives him a seriously unimpressed bass-boosted whine. Neither get to ask what the Hell as his parents come back in. Maddie walking over and kneeling to be on eye-level. ‘At least she’s attempting to seem gentle and genuinely worried about me and me alone’. “Sweetie, feel like telling us what happened? Were you in the Ghost Zone?”.

‘Okay, to lie or not to lie... that is the question. Dad totally saw the portal though. There’s so not another explanation for that and saying I don’t remember is, like, a super bad idea’. Having to make a point not to roll his eyes over Little Star sending a sad whine and comforting nuzzle. ‘Oh, it’s fine’.

Danny shrugs slightly, very pointedly ignoring the everything he’s also seeing at the moment; it was oddly already seeming like easily ignorable background noise or something. Not that he doesn’t totally appreciate the easy adjustment, “ah yeah. Ghostly abduction-”, he doesn’t even get to continue as his dad bursts out. “WHAT!?! It didn’t do anything to the Zone Core or try to take it!?!”, lifting up a blaster, “where is It and when can I shoot It!”.

‘Of course that’s what they care about’, expected but it still stung a little. His Core obviously agreeing with definitely audible bass-boosted sounds. That makes Maddie give a relieved sigh though, “It’s still making sounds, Jack dear. I think It’s fine”. Danny just scowls over being treated like he’s not even here. Maddie standing up and looking down at him, “you should have called us”.

Jack adding in, “was it that new ghost we spotted!?”, and cocks the blaster a little.

Danny would seriously prefer to be in his bed than on the couch, but of course his parents wanted to keep an eye on him. For experimentation purposes probably or just making sure he -his Core, the Zone Core- didn’t destabilise. Rolling his eyes, “it’s not my fault some psycho ghost shoved me through a portal. But no it wasn’t that ghost, dad”. No way is he telling them he can make portals now, they’d abuse that in a heartbeat. Or try to. Not like Danny would let them.

Grinning a little when he gets smacked in the face by a t-shirt, which is definitely Tucker’s fault.

‘To protect’

‘Yeah. That. Those two using me, us, as some kind of screwed up all-access pass to the Zone is super not cool. They’ll be Zone damned before I let them use me like that’. Forcing himself not to smile at the nuzzling and faint hum. While he pushes himself to sit up and goes about getting out of his ruined shirt, pulling the new one over his head.

Only kinda listening as Maddie speaks, “you need to be more careful, Danny. Not only were you completely unprotected but who knows what could have happened to the Core in there”. Danny sighs as she keeps going, “I’m this close to making your wear a hazmat full-time”. Which just makes Danny groan tiredly as she snatched away his shirt and inspects it, handing it off to Jack who runs down to the lab. Hooray, he was providing samples.

Maddie looks back to him, “do you have any idea why you were targeted?”. Sam rounding on her, “he doesn’t need to explain to you. He needs to rest”. Tucker just nods strongly.

Maddie rolls her eyes disappointedly at the teens and sounds like she’s talking to naive children, “we need to know. Who knows what would happen if ghosts got their filthy ectoplasmic hands on the Zone Core. The energy in It is extremely powerful and pure, a ghost could raise the world into oblivion with that kind of power. Danny obviously knows better than to use such disgusting things but any ghost would eagerly try to take advantage of him if they found out what he has”, huffing, “that’s why It was supposed to be and stay in proper containment”.

Sam’s scowl deepens, “so what? Danny clearly handled himself just damn fine. You breathing down his neck doesn’t help anything”.

“He could have useful information!”.

“Is that all you care about?!?”.

Maddie looks appalled, “of course not! He’s my son!”.

Sam snapping, “sure doesn’t sound like it”, and turns her back on Maddie. Her and Tucker moving to yank him up off the couch and drag him up to his room. Which he is totally cool with. ‘My room would be seriously so much nicer’. His Core giving a soft hum in agreement. He does pause a bit, signally to his friends to hold up for a bit. ‘I should at least ease their worries, because they are kinda founded. Those ghosts did show up to steal Little Star after all. Plus... if I’m never ‘forthcoming’ with information they’re gonna get suspicious of me’.

‘Let. Mean’

‘Yeah but they’ll be worse if they think they can’t trust me. Plus maybe if they realise they don’t know everything they’ll maybe possibly be open to new ideas. Doubtful but it’s worth a shot’ only getting annoyed bass-boosting in return.

“Hey”. Getting his mom's attention while he can feel his friends giving him ‘I hope you know what you’re doing’ looks. “The Core did that zapping thing so no ghosts actually got close”.

She nods and hums, looking genuinely relieved which was nice to see even if it might not be over his well-being entirely or at all. “While I’m happy, that might have drained It, Danny”.

Danny deciding to stick with the sorta honesty train, “yeah it did. Kinda wound up in the centre of the Zone place and ‘restocked’ or whatever”. She just blinks, hums, and runs off down to the lab. The three teens all rolling their eyes and helping drag Danny up to bed.

He just lets them toss him down in bed with a tired groan. Tucker snorting, “wow you sound impressively tired. Coffee?”.

Danny grumbles into the blankets, “probably a bad idea. The freaking god of time -yes we meet- said Am needs to fix me up”.

“From... the impaling?”. Danny and his Core hum a yes. While Sam scowls at the now-closed door, “Zone do they have to be so, so, so self-centred! Their kid gets abducted and all they care about is their damn science project!”.

Danny lifts up a finger, “technically their son is the science project“. She chucks a slipper at him, “that is not what I mean and you know it!”.

Tucker pats Danny’s back, “so, god of time huh? Nice”. Danny smirks and gives him a weak high-five, “they're kinda the one that went scythe happy on me though, also saved my life though so I’m getting some serious mixed messages. But hey, the Observants wanted me super dead so I’ll take it”.

He can feel his two friends staring at him. Tucker falling on his ass on the ground laughing, “your first genuine ghostly encounter and it’s the freaking Observants and a mythological god. Your luck man!”.

Danny lifts his hand up to give a thumbs up, “and turns out the Zone Core needs to actually be connected to the Zone to do the whole supporting it thing. So that happened. I can see literally the entire Zone right now”, all of them chuckle at the sad whining, “hey now, it’s weird but I’m good. I don’t feel like I’m on acid anymore”.

Tucker actually sounds worried now, “maybe you should stay home for a while”. Sam scowls, “oh like his ‘parents’ won’t force him purely for observation. Have to make sure their precious little project is perfectly fine and dandy”, everyone can feel the sarcasm dripping off her words there.

‘Agree. Mean. No like’

‘You’re not wrong. But you can’t help who your parents are. Who made you. And technically they’re your parents too. They made you too’. He ignores the slight bass-boosted sound and yawns tiredly.

Sam sighing and sounding like she just kicked Tucker, “obviously we should let you rest, but is Am tired too? Considering what you told your... ‘mom’”.

Tucker perks up, “oh yeah, you said It replenished. You actively absorbing ectoplasm now? Like a sponge”.

Danny chuckles, that probably would have been preferable to being sorta force-fed even if it felt stupid good. “Let's just say putting ghost hunger on that test might have bit me in the ass”, he can easily hear Sam gag so he adds on, “only ghost flowers though, Sam”. His Core making a low content purr, obviously having no problem with Its enjoyable meal.

Sam absolutely notices, “why are you purring”, but sounds like she doesn’t actually want to know.

“Oh because it is positively delicious”. ‘Purr more just to gross her out’ and smirking to himself over his Core doing just that, though with added crackling.

“You disgust me”.

“I would ask to try but, you know, that would melt my stomach lining”.

“And you disgust me even more”.

Danny just laughs, passing out minutes later.

-

Is Danny surprised he slept for an entire day? No, not at all. Sure he had been stirred awake a couple times from coldness when his parents had come to check on him and had had a few groggy tired conversations. But for the most part, he slept like a rock. Though the entire time he was sleeping it was like he was having an out-of-body experience and floating around the Zone, his mind mentally focusing in on different spots and places. It was cool but also the weirdest ‘dreams’ ever.

He wouldn’t mind sleeping more though because even now he was still absolutely exhausted, which fine made sense. He appreciates being able to feel Little Star feeding him energy, definitely not enough though. But hey, he got the rest of the week off -which was honestly only one day but whatever- for ‘getting caught up in a ghost attack’. Downside? His parents hovering like they’re watching a Petri dish that’s not doing its shit fast enough. At least that’s what he remembers from his half-awake conversations. He’s also pretty sure his mom ran an energy scanner on him, which made sense considering he had told her about depleting his Core’s energy and just being in the Zone, in general, warranted getting scanned. He’s pretty sure he caught her muttering about him basically having an endless tolerance for ectoplasm. ‘Which I had kinda figured. Told ya you didn’t need to worry about me getting ecto in my system’

‘Good safe. Need rest’

‘Heh. You mother henning me is honestly hilarious. Humans can’t sleep endlessly though. Don’t think I even can sleep anymore for now’

‘Human, ???. Sleep, ???’

Danny can’t help chuckling at that, muttering tiredly into his blankets and scrunching them up into his face, “my humanness and human things will likely always be strange for you. Though I’m guessing my tiredness is entirely not a human thing. Low in ecto”. Rolling onto his back and bunching up his pillow some as his Core hums and pulses in that comforting way. Which yeah, he’s come to quite enjoy. Sighing in content tiredness, “yeah. So sleeping honestly probably isn’t helping me much”.

‘Help yes. Absorb ectoplasm easier’

“Huh”. ‘Guess I should try sleeping more then. Don’t go gettin’ your hopes up’. Chuckling a little over getting a bit of bubbling.

Not ten minutes later Maddie knocks and comes in, smiling when she spots he’s already awake, “still feeling tired, sweetie?”.

Danny nods, “yeah”, and yawns a little just because.

Maddie holds up a solid plastic cup with a lid and straw, “whipped up something that might help”. Maddie walks it over and Danny takes it gingerly. Danny guesses by the way she stands and watches him that she’s pretty well just testing something on him. Looking at the cup, which is obviously intentionally set up so he can’t see what’s inside, ‘hey, if this is purified Zone core ectoplasm -Defted ectoplasm?- you’ve got to not freak out on me. I don’t want her seeing me behave like that. Okay?’. Danny brings the straw to his mouth as the whine in his head changes to a slight accepting hum.

Taking a sip and yup, Defted ectoplasm. Opening and closing his mouth a few times and pulling away from the drink to make it seem like he’s never tasted this before, “uh, that’s a lot of lemon, lime, and... white chocolate?”; the lemon and lime telling him there was just plain ol’ regular ectoplasm mixed in. Weird choice but damnit, now he was hungry; and maybe this would actually help. His parents weren’t morons, they did have good ghost-related ideas.

‘CONSUME’

‘I know, I know. Wait for her to leave’

Maddie nods, and Danny doesn’t miss the slight smile, her speaking as she heads to his door, “well you should probably drink all of it. Feel better okay?”. Danny nods as she closes the door.

Waiting only a beat before physically tearing off the cup lid, licking his tongue around the straw and inside of the lid, before putting that to the side. He can feel Little Star trying to jerk his hands to his mouth, ‘slow slow, don’t wanna, spill. Want all, right’

‘YES’

Danny smirks as he bends the cup slightly to angle it so that he can get as much into his mouth at once. Gulping it down greedily and moaning slightly, Core practically singing with purrs and hums. Elongating his tongue so he can lick over every inch, before putting the cup on the side table; screwing back on the lid with a sigh. Patting at his chest, ‘better?’. Getting happy humming in return.

Licking his lips and turning back over, sigh another small moan and snuggling into the blankets again; falling back asleep pretty quickly.

-

The next time he wakes up, Sam and Tucker are chilling in his room playing on their handhelds in their beanie bags. Him watching them for a bit before deciding to chuck a pillow at Tucker, not Sam because he has some sense. Least he felt genuinely less tired now.

“What the! Ack!”, Tucker snaps his head to him, abandoning the game on the floor, “Danny dude! You’re up!”.

Sam smacks him as she gets up too, “quiet before you get his parents up here”. Tucker just rolls his eyes as they sit on his bed. Sam points at the cup on the side table, “your mom dropped that off”.

Tucker chuckles, “with a warning for us not to touch it, ominous as fuck”.

Danny chuckles, Core bubbling too, “well it’s pure purified ecto so that's fair. I don’t think she’s realised I know that though”. Sam immediately sends the cup a scowl, Tucker meanwhile nudges him to drink it. Which honestly just makes him chuckle more and go from just bubbling to crackling. Which Sam smacks him lightly for, “stop that”, pointing at Tucker, “and you, don’t encourage him. If he needs it that’s one thing, though he absolutely should be asking where it’s coming from. Because so help me if they are just bleeding some ghost dry-”.

Danny feels the need to butt in with that because no way would he drink that then, “Sam it’s mostly the stuff from the centre of the Zone, which is at most from some plants. The rest is absolutely just sapped from the portal. I would know if there was a ghost here, which right never got a chance to mention I can sense ghosts and how strong they are”.

Tucker claps him on the shoulder, “Zone damn that’s awesome man. Guessing that’s why your breath went all visible icy mist”.

“Bingo”.

Sam rolls her eyes though smiling, “alright that’s okay, sorta, then”.

‘Good. Ego one no mad. Drink now?’ Making Danny snort and roll his eyes.

“Hey, I said it was alright”.

Danny blinks at Sam and laughs a little, “no. Not rolling my eyes at you”, and laughs a bit more while he pushes himself to sit up. Tucker finger-guns at him, “half a conversation”. This time Danny is absolutely rolling his eyes at his friends as he grabs up his cup, ripping off the lid and looking down. ‘Yup. More ecto’

‘Want, ?’ The unsureness of that makes him chuckle a little, little guy was being considerate. Or as much as It could be past the instincts, though him feeling less tired probably helped in that regard. Weird that he was awake enough to actually be able to tell that that heavy wetness in his veins that he’s become used to was ‘lighter’ than normal. ‘Well that’s one way to know I’m low, huh’.

‘Want’

‘Geez someone’s pushy’.

“Do we want to know why you’re just staring at it?”. Danny jumps a little from Sam’s voice, spilling some on his hand, “oh damn”. Both of them lean away slightly but laugh a bit at him licking his hand off, him muttering, “damn”, again and humming to cover up the whole moaning thing; he does absently note the fizzing to his eyes though as he effectively dumps the cup in his mouth. ‘Well that’s new, guessing I was too, ah, low before to be all, eye sparky’ getting some agreeing humming but it’s mostly pleased humming and pulsing in his chest.

“Your eyes are all green again dude, also, ten bucks says you can’t stop drinking right now”. Danny flips him off but... doesn’t stop. Tucker immediately laughs at him.

Danny licking off the cup and pointing at Tucker as he puts the cup to the side, “shush, nothing from Mr. Meat Sense. None of us have normal diets, at least mine is just ‘cause I’m ecto-drained from, like, so much bullshit”.

Tucker smirks but points at him, “speaking of bullshit, so you lowkey fought an Observant? Badass man, put that on your resume”.

Danny blinks at him, “Tuck, I’m pretty sure all of them were there. It was like an army of floating eyeball assholes in cloaks and precisely one dude with a clock fetish”. Danny squinting at an image from the Zone getting pushed into the forefront of his sight by his bubbling Core, an image of ClockWork holding a sign reading ‘clocks are quite fashionable, Daniel’. ‘Oh my Zone, yes I like this bastard of a ghost’

“Wow. How did you not die”.

“I did. I explicitly mentioned that”.

Tucker sticks his hands out to the side, “I didn’t think you were serious”. Sam points at both Tucker then him, “to be fair, you have claimed to have been killed by a great many things not limited to: cold coffee, an old brown shoe, a hairball, the new ceiling fan-”.

Danny butts in there, “hey, the ceiling fan did try to kill me”.

She points at him, “but did it succeed? No”, putting her hands on her hips, “and Danny, you almost die at least once a year”. Everyone chuckles at his Core whining very unhappily at that, Danny giving his chest a little pat.

Danny flops to lay back down, arms spread out, “you know, kinda surprised Little Star didn’t wake me up when y’all showed. Did every time my parents came in”.

Tucker grins, “I think It’s saying It trusts us more than them”.

‘Yes. Good homes’ home. Orange, blue, bad’

‘Fair. And my friends aren’t about to stab me with a needle in my sleep or shoot me first thing in the morning might I add’

Grinning at the bubbling before looking to his friends, “yup, little guy approves of you guys”. Both of them grin stupidly at that.

Sam starts up as her and Tucker both flop down in the bed on either side of him, “we got back our test results by the by. Almost everyone failed”.

“If you guys did I am making you sit through one of dad’s lectures”.

Both of them immediately shouting, “oh Zone no! Zone be damned not happening”.

Danny smirks and chuckles, “why I’ll have you know I damned myself a long time ago”, earning a very satisfactory round of groans, “but seriously, am I about to bleed disappointment?”.

Sam rolls her eyes enough to move her head with the motion, “with us and Valerie? Naw. Everyone else? Very. I know at least four people who only got one right”.

Danny screws his face up ‘you've got to be kidding me’, “how the Zone does that happen? Half that shit was bare basic common knowledge! Most else was barely above that!”, groaning and getting crackled at, “man Lancer so won the bet”.

Tucker leans over him, “you made a bet against him? How much? Do I get anything?”. Sam leans up just to shove Tucker off the bed, “you idiot”.

Danny chuckles, “no, just means I’m stuck teaching a class now. Screw both of you”, while Tucker crawls back onto the bed. Neither give him looks of sympathy. ‘Those bastards’ his Core crackling more. ‘You bastard’.

Danny is perfectly content with the silence until Jazz busts in, without even knocking fuck you, “Danny, you need to do whatever hides that glow and turn off your eyes”.

All three jerk to sit up, “what? Why?”.

She crosses her arms looking annoyed, “G.I.W. are here, again. They picked up on the portal problem you caused. You better not make this a reoccurring thing, I like getting to study in peace sometimes”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “hey that wasn’t my fault”.

“Don’t care. Just be normal”.

Danny shakes his head at the closing door. ‘Aaaaaaaaaand she’s gone. Can’t let anything take her away from her schooling, can she? Ugh whatever. Hey bud? You good to curl up? Because yeah no, hard pass on those twats finding you even slightly’

‘Bad. Hide. Trick. No absorb ecto’

‘Ah well appreciate the heads up’

Danny sighs and rubs at the twisted up feeling, grumbling, “hooray. More hiding. Fun”, and wincing from his stomach dropping or something, putting his hand over his stomach, “oh”.

Tucker laughs, “what? Can’t handle the ecto now?”, and laughs more. Danny laughs himself, “I very much feel like a human with a stomach full of ecto yes”.

Sam scowling, “could we not?”. Making both boys snicker at her; Danny giving his chest another comforting pat letting Little Star know he’s alright. He could feel the ectoplasm rolling and bubbling, which was weird as shit. ‘I’ve eaten weirder. Rather this over the rotten underwear again’

[harringrovetrashrat]

Hey I'm new at 'Asking' on tumblr but I'll give it ago, I was thing like, a harringrove soulmate au, (it can be what ever) but like they find out mid-flight at the Byers, like (the thing you choose) happened, and maybe even one of the kids see and is all like "omg are u guys SOULMATES?!?!?"

YES YES!!!

I’ve never done a soulmark fic before, so I truly hope you enjoy this!!  I had fun writing it, either way, lol

(Quick note: Shirts v Skins in this is more Shirts v Tanks for privacy based around marks.  Most things are made so you have privacy, but a lot of people are open with their marks anyway.)

--

The day that Steve found out that Nancy wasn’t his soulmate probably should have been a little sadder.  Don’t get him wrong, Steve had been fucking heartbroken.  Had felt like something was missing inside him.  But it had made sense.  Because there was always something that didn’t click between the two of them.  Where Steve reached, Nancy pulled away. Where she went, he couldn’t follow.

He reminded himself it wasn’t her fault.  It wasn’t her fault she didn’t love him, you can’t make yourself love another person, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

Also, he probably should have seen it coming when he got his mark.  When the mark appeared on his ribs, a crown encircled by a wave.

He had no fucking idea what that meant.  How it related to him and Nancy.

After the breakup, done in her front yard on her birthday in late August, when hers appeared and was a camera with an eye for a lens, he had hated looking at it.  Hated the reality it presented, even if he was happy for Nancy and Jonathan.  More jealous of what they had together.  The mark was a constant reminder that he was the problem, so he stopped showering at school after practice.  Changed and left as quickly as he could.  Did the same at home, hoping, wishing that if he just didn’t look, it would go away.  It never did.  He never looked in the mirror without a shirt anymore.

Then Billy Hargrove arrived and Steve’s world was fucked.

He was everywhere, getting into Steve’s space, challenging him for the throne he didn’t even fucking want.  Blue eyes, tanned skin, rough hands, and a tongue that refused to stay in his mouth.  Steve didn’t like to admit that that tongue had featured a lot in his dreams.  That he had imagined Billy pressing him against his bed, pressing him against fucking anything, and speaking in that low voice that hit Steve in his gut.

It wasn’t necessarily shocking, Steve had come to terms with kinda looking at boys too, but it’d never been like this.  He’d never been so utterly consumed by the thought of another person.  Not even with Nancy.  Billy Hargrove was a temptation, but also not a possibility.  He was a man’s man, a ladies man, and an all around asshole.

By the time he had joined the basketball team, Steve had developed the worst one sided crush he’d ever had in his life.  And it didn’t even make sense.  Sure, he’d noticed that Billy was smart, was attentive and observant, just like Jonathan.  But he was also a massive tool.

Practice was normal enough, Billy and Tommy doing what they could to get a rise out of Steve, but he quickly brushed it off, making a beeline for his locker.  He heard the clanking of a lock and turned to see Billy opening his locker.  When he noticed that Steve wasn’t showering he turned his wolf-like grin on him, tongue peeking out between his teeth.

“What’s up, Harrington?  Kings don’t sweat?” Steve ignored him, sighing.  Billy smirked, smile going sly and… something Steve couldn’t place.  “Got an embarrassing mark or something?” Steve rolled his eyes, blocking Billy’s view of the left side of his ribs as he pulled his shirt on.

“Just don’t want y’all tryin’ to look at my massive dick, Hargrove,” he replied.  There was a pause, then Billy laughed, loud and bright.  It sounded surprised and almost happy.

“That so, King?” Steve slammed his locker closed and shot Billy a dark look.  He kept his eyes on Billy’s, not letting them wander over the expanse of his chest.  Billy smirked, like he knew where Steve wanted to look, where he wasn’t going to look.  Steve turned on his heel and left, ignoring the blood pumping in his ears.

Then everything kinda went to shit.

Or well, really, really went to shit.

He didn’t know why Billy had to always goad him, had to be such a prick all the time.  Why he had to come here to find Max, on tonight of all nights.  Why he had to smash a fucking plate over his head.  And now here he was, being flipped over as Billy straddled him, much differently from his dreams, and got ready to beat the shit out of him.  Steve looked up at him, hating that the light created a halo behind him, hating that he looked good, hating everything.  Billy’s shirt was hiked up, Steve had tugged it free from his jeans as they grappled, and as he moved, it rose some more.

“Holy shit!” Dustin’s exclamation wasn’t new, mixing in with the cries of the other teens, but then he said something that made both boys pause.  “Your mark!” Billy went rigid on top of him, slapping his hand over the side of his back hip as he turned and leveled Dustin with a glare.

“What?” He snarled, tugging his shirt down with one hand while he held Steve down with the other.  “If you think pointing that shit out is gonna make me--”

“I’ve seen it,” he whispered, eyes widening.  “Oh my god, that’s--” He let out a weird sound, making Billy let Steve go fully, narrowing his eyes.  Steve took his chance, sitting up quickly, trying to shove Billy back, but he gripped Steve’s body with his legs, pulling him along.  They rolled and Dustin let out another strange noise.  “You guys!  Stop!” Both older teens turned to look at him, confusion on their faces.  He went forward, tugging at Billy’s shirt, trying to get a better look at his mark.  Billy scrambled away, shoving Dustin’s hands.

“What the fuck!”

“You have the same mark,” Dustin breathed, eyes going wide.  Billy stared at him, contemplating, before his eyes slowly widened.  Steve furrowed his brow, not getting it.

“What?” Billy took a step away, looking ready to run, which was so different from only moments before that Steve was feeling weirder than he had about carrying a dead monster.

“Remember when you showed me your mark,” Dustin said, speaking fast, “I would recognize it fucking anywhere--”

“Max,” Billy snapped, breath coming in shorter, “We’re fucking leaving.”

“No,” she said, anger barely restrained.  “Fuck you, Billy!  We’re doing something important.” He grit his teeth, turning his back on Steve, looking right at her.  Dustin looked between him and Steve, before his face hardened and he yanked up Billy’s shirt, mark on display.

Steve couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Fuck off, shithead!” Billy said, wrenching away from Dustin and shoving him back, though the push was weak.  He turned back to Max, not once looking at Steve, who was still staring, mind wrapping itself around Billy having a crown.  A crown with a wave circling it.  Of Billy, the total womanizing douchebag, having his mark.  “Maxine, Neil and Susan want you home, we’re leaving.”

“Wait,” Steve said.  It was quiet, but it cut through the room.  Billy tensed, not turning around.  Steve wanted to ask, wanted to show Billy his mark, wanted to figure out what the fuck was happening, but they didn’t have time.  Mike tensed up, already knowing what Steve was going to ask.  “Guys, I think--”

“No!” Mike cried.  “No, we’re not telling him!”

“He’s not gonna leave without Max,” Steve snapped, finally getting up.  Billy had retreated slightly, still twitching with anger, but his curiosity was starting to win out.  “And,” he sighed, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if we tell him, we’ll have another person to go with us and--” he let out another sigh, “We’ll do your plan.  In the tunnels.” The preteens exchanged glances and huddled together.  There was intense whispering, one ‘ew,’ and then they were turning back.

“Nothing about-- You know,” Lucas said, miming a nosebleed.  Mike looked unhappy, arms crossed as he hunched over, but he didn’t say anything.

“Fine, fine.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“What in the fuck are any of you talking about?” Billy snapped.

“Are we not going to discuss that you guys have matching marks?” Dustin said, clearly unable to read the room.  It was like all the air had been sucked out, like the eye of a storm.

“Dustin,” Steve said, voice restrained and even, “I seriously need you to drop it.”

“But--!”

“Drop.  It.” Steve said through gritted teeth.  Billy bristled and Steve’s eyes flickered over to him.  He wasn’t looking back, just angrily staring at the floor.  “Hargrove,” he said, and Billy still didn’t look at him.  “This is gonna sound weird, and you aren’t gonna believe me, but--” He paused, not sure what to say.  Then he remembered.  “Follow me.” Billy looked at him then, eyes narrowed and wary, almost scared, and wasn’t that funny.  Still, he followed, and while the kids moved to do the same, Steve glared them into submission.  “You guys get the stuff ready, okay?  You’ll just overwhelm him otherwise.” He couldn’t help it, he put his hand on Billy’s lower back, ushering him into the kitchen.  Billy moved away, movements jerky.  It felt like ice in Steve’s veins, but he could worry about his soulmate hating him later.

“So?” Billy snapped, licking his lips anxiously.  “Show me.” Steve took a deep breath and pulled open the door of the fridge.  The demodog spilled out, practically oozing onto the floor, and if it wasn’t the night it was, if hell wasn’t knocking on the door, Steve might have laughed at how bugeyed Billy went.  “What the fuck?” He breathed, eyes darting between Steve and the monster.  “What the fuck is that?”

“That,” Steve said, “Is a demodog.  It’s a monster from a different dimension called the Upside Down.  We gotta go kill and distract a horde of them so the chief can close the gate and kill their connection to the other side.” Billy stared at him, blinking.  He pursed his lip, pointing a finger, before dropping both and looking at Steve like he’d grown a second head.

“What?”

“Essentially,” Steve said, glancing at the clock and noticing they needed to leave, “We gotta go distract and maybe kill a bunch of monsters or they’ll take over Hawkins.  You in?” Billy stared at him, brow furrowed.  Steve stared back, tired and ready to fight if he had to.  Wondering about where that syringe went.  Billy finally swallowed and looked away.  His voice was low when he responded.

“You want me to come along?” He sounded almost shocked.  “Even with--” He pursed his lips, going red.  Like he hadn’t meant to bring it up, but also couldn’t stop thinking about it.  Or maybe that was just Steve.

“Of course,” Steve said, scoffing a little.  Billy frowned at him, looking defensive.  Steve licked his lips, feeling bold.  The night was already scary enough.  “I’ve been crushing on you since you got here basically.” Billy’s eyebrows shot up and Steve looked at his shoes.  There was demodog on them so he looked back up, but not at Billy.  “Even though you were a total tool,” Billy scoffed, “You were smart and like, so much more than you let people believe.” Billy was silent and Steve chanced it, looking at him.  Billy stared at him, face soft and open, at least more so than usual.

“Can I--” He licked his lips.  “Can I see it?” Steve’s breath hitched and he swallowed, nodding.  He untucked his shirt, hiking it up to show the left side of his ribs.  Billy's thick hand splayed over it, thumb rubbing the mark.  Steve shuddered, mouth parted slightly.  His touch was electric, especially over the mark.  Now that they knew, it made sense.  King Steve, engulfed and protected by the rushing and wild wave that was Billy Hargrove.  His breath hitched as he watched Billy stare, each rub of his thumb sending sparks through Steve.  The mark looked right, now.  Like it was meant to be there, bright against his pale, skin, marking him for the world to see as Billys Hargrove’s soulmate.

The thought of Billy belonging to him made him shudder again.

“If you guys are done being all sappy,” Mike Wheeler’s voice cut through the moment, shattering it like glass.  “We could maybe, I dunno, go?” Steve pulled away, beet red, and Billy looked like he could strangle the kid.  He had his lanky arms crossed, trying to look fierce, but Steve could see that he was scared.  Worried about El.  He sighed and gave Billy a loaded look, heading for the door.

“I’ll grab the axe from the shed, you kids pack up the car.” He looked at Billy. “Grab my bat will you?” Billy’s nostrils flared and he grinned, eyes alight.

“Sure thing, King.”