#I like to imagine that she instantly recognized him because of his eyes

[starryflyingplatypus]

*THIS ART AND THE DESCRIPTION AND EVERYTHING ELSE HAS SWEET, SWEET SPOILERS*

This is a rough portrayal of how I imagined the Yotai Festival scene played in my run of the demo.

Damn, I was NOT expecting the mage to find Saine there. And they have to interact with each other without knowing they are reunited, uuuuurhrhrjragrhgh, my heart </3

The game is an interactive fiction: A Mage Reborn by @mage-parivir.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One

The drive's short one. 

Steve gets out of his car, opening the passenger door for Chrissy and escorting her up to the house, quietly envisioning what Jason would look like if a real monster got him.

What would he say, staring down the crazy, five-starred head, filled with teeth and drool? Would he turn back? Or run?

(Steve swears he doesn't take great pleasure in imagining Carver getting eaten, but he'll admit to taking a little.)  

"Chrissy do you have any idea--oh." Mrs. Cunningham startles, grasping her robe at the front as she spots Steve standing next to her daughter.  

"Hi Miss Cunningham." He says.

"Hello." She says suspiciously. "And who are you?"

"I'm Steve Harrington, ma'am." He watches as her mother straightens immediately at his name, and sinks right into the ol' Harrington charm, knowing instantly it will work. "I know you were expecting Jason, but I'm afraid he wasn't able to drive Chrissy home." 

"Oh, Steve! It's so late I almost didn't recognize you." She titters, suspicion gone. "Your mother and I are on the same charity board." 

Of course they were.

"I thought you were dating that nice Nancy girl." She says with a squint that mimics Chrissy's, because even in the midst of a crisis he can't escape the gossip that is Hawkins upper echelon. 

"Nance is waiting in the car." Steve lies smoothly. "I just wanted to make sure Chrissy got home safe." 

"What happened?" Chrissy's father appears, ushering them both in while blatantly peering around them, eyes sweeping the street before closing the door.

Steve recognizes the move. He's checking for nosy neighbors. 

"Jason and I broke up." Chrissy admits.

"What?" 

"We..." She falters in front of her parents. 

"What happened to Jason?" Her father asks, tuning back in once they're safely away from peering eyes.

"I'm afraid Jason and some of his friends brought beer to the party." Steve steps in to explain.  

"Oh Chrissy, it's a high school party. That's no reason to break up with him." Her mother fusses, face flushing in embarrassment. Her eyes dart from her daughter to Steve and back, and Steve knows he needs to start damage control. 

If he plays it right he can burn Jason while he's at it. 

"He was horrible, mom. Just awful." Chrissy says, but Steve can tell she's shrinking under her mothers gaze. 

"He drank quite a lot, Miss Cunningham." With a theatrical wince, Steve turns to face Chrissy's dad, lowers his voice and says "I'm going to have to talk to Coach about it." 

He gets the intended response, which is a raised eyebrow. "That bad, huh?" 

Steve nods once, painting a pained smile on his face. "He made a real fool of himself tonight, Sir. The basketball team has a reputation to uphold." 

"Oh." Mrs. Cunningham says, hand fluttering in front of her face. "I never would have thought…"

"He's normally a good guy. I don't know what got into him." Steve has them both eating out of the palm of his hand, attention neatly off Chrissy and onto the story he's feeding them. 

Its worth it to see her shoulders relax. 

"I couldn't let him take Chrissy home in the state he was in Sir, and he got very…" 

Steve pauses. 

Fills his voice with tempered disappointment, channeling his dad. "Belligerent. Said some nasty things."  

"Really?" Mr. Cunningham says, with a low whistle, and Steve knows by his tone alone that he's bought in.

Hook, line, sinker.

Steve nods once. "I have to get back to my girlfriend, but Chrissy'" He turns earnestly here, to let her know he's not faking this next bit. "Let me know if Jason bothers you at school. I'll set him straight again if I have to." 

"Thank you Steve." Mr. Cunningham says, as Chrissy's mom hustles her daughter towards the kitchen. 

Steve shakes his hand, then waves at Crissy as she calls her own thank you over her shoulder, before disappearing out the door and back to his car.

The same one where Nancy very much isn't. 

That's a problem for tomorrow Steve.

xXx

Tomorrow Steve gets into an argument with Nancy. 

She can't recall that Jonathan took her home, or that he's bullshit, their whole relationship, bullshit--

But she also can't tell him she loves him.

So Steve snaps at her. Storms off.

 Play’s more basketball.

It takes less than two hours for him to get mopey and another three for him to spiral into deciding he was wrong somehow.

That's what his mom said all the time anyway, wasn't it? The man's always wrong Steven, and he's the man here so…

He gets flowers, chocolates, and fucking waylaid (by Dustin Henderson with his Grow a Monster) and things go sideways from there.

 Train tracks and a junkyard and demodogs make time speed up. An encounter with Billy and a dinner plate causes Steve's recollection of the evening to be fuzzy. 

He just knows that in the middle of dodging death, he has the realization that Nance wants to break up with him.

That he should let her. 

Even if it hurts, even if he doesn't want to. 

She wants to be let go.

So Steve does. He respects her, and when he has a moment after its all over, he tells her to go with Jonathan.

(At least he permanently gets the squirts out if this. Or at least everyone but Mike.

Even if most of them are shitheads and one of them's Hargrove's step sister.

It's--something.

But when Dustin keeps pestering him, demanding Steve drive him all over Hawkins and then drags him to the movies, well.

It might be the best something Steve's had in his life so far. )

xXx

"Oh shit. Is that from Caver?" Eddie asks, popping up near Steve's car like the clown in a jack in the box. 

"Carver can't hit for shit. This was Hargrove." Steve replies, attempting an eyeroll before remembering that his entire face is a bruise. 

One, giant, never ending bruise. 

"I guess his step sister gave him the slip to come hang out with these kids I watch sometimes. I didn't know she wasn't supposed to be there." Steve shrugs, because it's the technical truth. 

If you turn it sideways and squint anyway. 

"Asshole tried to threaten the kid Max is into by slamming him into a wall and screaming shit, so I stepped in, and--" He waves at his face. 

The same one he's already getting looks for. 

"I was winning." Steve sighs theatrically. "He broke a plate over my head."

The story seemed to freeze Eddie but he recovers with a quick shake of his head. 

"You poor thing." He tuts. "Let me guess--you were more worried about the hair than the wound?" 

Eddie's hands flutter like he's going to touch Steve's head but he seems to contain himself at the last minute.

The hospital threatened to buzz it for stitches." Steve says darkly, playing into the bit. 

(He had not gone to a hospital. 

None of them had.)  

"What would our King be without his crown of hair?" Eddie laments, in a falsetto that was half insult half oddly sincere. It was jarring in that it was hard to get a read on, but the more Steve was around the guy the less it seemed malicious and the more it came off  as just….goofy.

Eddie Munson, Steve decided, was not a freak.

 He was a dorky little weirdo, just like all the other kids Steve now hung out with. 

Just older, and with slightly better hair. 

"Hey Eddie." Another boy calls out, approaching cautiously. 

He's got a leather jacket on, and if Steve thinks hard enough he can sort of conjure up a memory of the guy at Eddie's lunch table, throwing a piece of bread at a pale sophomore decked out in plaid. "You good man?" 

"Yeah Jeff, just checkin' in on the Hair here." Eddie sticks a thumb towards Steve, who raises his hand and waves. 

The falsetto comes back, somehow higher as the older boy swoons over Steves arm. "Soothing his poor soul after that brute Hargrove almost killed him." 

"Has anyone ever told you you're a lot like Bugs Bunny?" Steve asks, the thought leaving his mouth the instant he had it.

(He doesn't care, it's a legitimate question.) 

It has the effect of making Munson look downright chuffed. "I have actually, but only by my Uncle." 

"Why are you checking in?" Jeff interrupts, before seeming to realize he said it out loud. " Ah, I mean--"

"Oh he didn't tell you?" Steve says, as casually as he can muster. "Eddie claimed me and Chrissy at a party last weekend." 

See Munson? Two people could play the weird bit game. 

They've attracted more of Eddie's friends now, two more boys in leather jackets edging closer like frightened deer. 

(One of which is the aforementioned younger man Jeff threw bread at, and Steve vaguely thinks the guy's name starts with a g.) 

"Apparently we're his minions now." Steve tells Jeff in a rather put upon manner. 

"It was just you, the fair maiden chose otherwise." Eddie counters dismissively, voice dropping down low. 

Steve snorts. Hums a sarcastic; "Like you'd let us choose." 

Eddie finally abandons whatever voice that was supposed to be (a villain, Steve thinks, and wonders if it hurts Eddies throat to drop from a false high to a deep low that quickly.)  to say:

 "Mock me all you like, Harrington, but you can't deny the bit worked." 

Steve automatically went for another eye roll, and gets a flash of pain for it. "Who said I was mocking you, you dork? Just stating facts." 

Yet again, Eddie reacts weird to the comment. He looks almost bashful for a second, before he recovers, tugging his hair in front of his face as he plays with it.

The bell rings once in warning, and Steve makes a face towards the doors. 

"I gotta go, Mrs Clicks out to fail me. See you around, Eddie. Jeff." The way his eyes are bruised up he can't quite make out the face Jeff makes at that, but Steve's pretty sure the guys mouth was open. 

"She's a nasty one, my minion, best stay on your toes around her." Eddie calls, and Steve waves a hand in the air to show he heard. 

"What just happened?" Jeff asks, far too loudly for how close Steve still is. 

It makes him chuckle a bit, even as one of the other guys says something in a far quieter voice that has Munson squawking and flapping his arms like a bird. 

The winding little feelings in his chest squeeze his heart, and Steve shakes his head, refusing to be fond of Eddie Munson. 

xXx

College rejection letters come in, one after the another.

Steve could have made it into a few schools he's certain, except he hadn't really applied to any.

Not that any college other than Penn Hurst mattered. His dad wanted him to be a legacy, come hell or high water.

Steve's punishment was hand picked by his parents, and he gets the sailor outfit his new minimum wage job requires is supposed to be a part of it--that his dad made him apply because it was the most embarrassing thing he could think to subject Steve too-- but honestly? 

It's not that bad. 

Not even with Robin, the manager he met yesterday, and who positively, completely and totally, hates Steve’s guts.  

He figures he has time to win her over. 

All the time in the world, now that demons aren't trying to eat his, or any of the kid's, faces. He can focus on the small things. Build himself back up.

Figure out the person he wants to be, now that he's no longer King Steve. 

It’s the thought that kept him from attending any graduation parties. To go felt like backsliding into old habits. 

‘If the kids--if it comes back again--’ 

Getting drunk at night in a random house seemed almost irresponsible.

Particularly not with people Steve has history with, without anyone he really cares about being present. Certainly not Nance and Jonathan, who he wishes he didn’t know are at some end-of-year game night one of Nancy’s friends is hosting. 

(Steve can’t think about that for a number of reasons. 

When he does--because of course he does-- he makes sure to focus on the weirdness that is Jonathan Byers being someone he cares about, instead of the fact he can’t seem to kill his love for Nancy. 

Or that he's horrifically jealous of their relationship. 

That the best sleep he had ever had was between them, two nights after the lab, when they crammed themselves into Jonathan's bed because they all couldn't quite believe it was over.

That night had been so incredibly weird, but grouping together felt safer. Smarter.

Better.

Not in a way Steve wants to put into words. 

Not in a way he wants to confront at all.) 

His parents hadn’t been able to make it home to watch him walk at his graduation--his father landing a last minute meeting with some important person or other. 

Faked apologies were given, money transferred, and Steve, not wanting to sit in his too-huge house, had meandered to Family Video. 

Tried to forget his father’s cold voice in the background of his mother’s call, loudly announcing he’d have made it a priority to see Steve graduate-- if he’d gotten into Penn Hurst. 

Steve just shakes his head. Pushes those thoughts into the back of his head, into the same place all his other weird thoughts live.

The glare he gets from the tall, pimple-ridden guy working the rental counter was expected.

Chrissy Cunningham, was not. 

"I thought you’d be at one of the parties.” He tells her, when he turns down the romance aisle and finds her staring blankly at a shelf. 

She startles, before recognition flits over her face and a warm smile is directed his way. 

“I'm honestly not a fan of parties." She confides in him, hand clutching a tape in her hands."Not those kinds, anyway.” 

"More slumber parties, less keg stands your speed?" Steve guessed, blatantly turning his head sideways in order to read the title.

She awards him with a wider smile. "Exactly." 

"Chrissy Cunningham. Are you renting Jaws?" He teases, leaning in just a touch.

She flushes, but turns and squares up to him. Steve's delighted to see it. 

"Why yes I am. I'll do you one better and even admit it's one of my favorite movies." 

Steve grins at her, and sees the way she lights up on response, eyes bright. 

This is the Chrissy that Carver had tried to kill. The strength and pure fun that radiates off her enhances the beauty she has to something almost otherworldly. 

Steve has seen enough beauty in his life to recognize when it will stay. That Chrissy wil one day be 80 years old, with gray hair and knit sweaters, and she'll still be able to light up a room. 

"Like sharks killing people that much huh?” He teases. And it’s easy, slipping into this part of himself around her. The part he’s been trying to get back. 

The confidence that he walked with, before monsters crawled out of the ground, and Nancy put a hole in his heart.

"I'll let you in on a secret. ." Chrissy leans in, dropping her voice low enough that Steve has to lean in a bit too to hear. "My favorite character is the shark." 

Steve playfully gapes at her, and for the first  time in a long time, feels like things will be okay. 

He’ll be okay.

He won’t be King Steve. He’s not Nancy's Boyfriend Steve either--but someone else. Himself.

A Steve who exists outside of Hawkins High, outside his family name. 

He likes it.

"I told you that was his car. Steve!" A too familiar voice calls and Steve can't mask the despair that hits him as he turns to his (now least) favorite shithead, whose storming through Family Video’s doors. 

"Dustin." He identifies, with an edge to his voice he can only pray Chrissy doesn't pick up on. "Other brats. What are you doing?" 

Mike stands stubbornly at Dustin's right, Lucas nervous at his left. 

Will Byers is situated next to Mike but Steve's not as familiar with him, and has no idea how to interpret the kid. 

If he had to guess based on the face he’s being sent, Will’s more nervous then the rest--but equally determined. 

(This does not make Steve feel better. It in fact, somewhat convinces them they’ve run headfirst back into trouble.) 

"Well we were going to go to Lucas’s, but now, we're bumming a ride from you!" 

"I'm busy." He says flatly. 

"Ste~eeeve!" 

"I didn't know you had a brother." Chrissy says, hand covering her mouth. 

Looking back at her, Steve's pretty sure she's trying to physically hold back laughter. 

If one could shoot lasers with their eyes, Steve would be nailing Dustin for ruining--whatever it was that was happening here. 

"He's a rescue" Steve says flatly. "It’s not working out though. We're planning on returning him to the shelter.” 

"Wow Steve." Dustin returns, offended. "First of all, if anyone's rescuing anyone I rescued you, or did you suddenly forget that you show up to family dinner every Thursday at my house like a sad orpha--mmpphh!" 

‘Mmpphh’ because Steve had taken several long strides across the store to smack his hand over Dustin's mouth. 

"Sorry Chrissy, it would appear the asshole children I am paid to babysit escaped whoever is supposed to be watching them." He shakes Dustins head, in lue of strangling him. “Hit me up later we’ll discuss the shark’s best kills.” 

“Will do.” Chrissy says, as Steve begins the process of shoving his four smaller friends out the door. “Drive safe!” 

“No you don’t, and you’re gonna prove it by swinging through McDonalds for us.” Dustin sing-songs, swinging himself into the passenger side of the Beemer. 

“You assholes owe me, big time.” Steve hisses, as Lucas and Mike instantly begin making kissy faces the second they’re out into the parking lot. "I had plans tonight!"

“Do you have McDonalds money?” Steve asks, only to immediately wince at himself because fuck did he just sound like a soccer mom. 

“I have money I took out of my mom’s wallet.” Mike says as he settles into the car with his friends.

“Fine.” Steve sighs in defeat, starting the car. 

He determinedly does not ask if the idiots walked here, because there is a suspicious lack of bicycles, if only because he hit his mom quota for the day and Steve refuses to say anything else that might edge out his cool persona.

The one he swears he still has.

Supposedly. 

("Does my mom really pay you to watch me?" Dustin asks a while later, when the other brats are distracted. His voice is painfully honest, and softer than it normally is. 

"In food, yes." Steve says, because he’s not that much of an asshole--and maybe, because Dustin is truly his only friend right now.

Steve honestly looks forward to those Thursday dinners, helping Ma Henderson and having her fuss over him in a way his parents never had. 

In a way no one ever had. 

Dustin lands a solid kick to his ankle, making Steve curse. "That's not payment you ass!"

"Ow, God Dustin--" 

"Just admit you're my actual friend, you dick!" 

"Language! I swear your mom stole you from wolves, you animal--" Steve swatted at him. 

Maybe, possibly later, he will go on to admit that yes, Dustin is his friend. 

He will even agree to making up a stupid handshake for it. 

It involves lightsabers and gore at least, which Steve insists is very cool.)

[blue-devil-of-the-lord]

i'm so happy you're writing for nightcrawler! he's my favorite and its criminal how little fanfic there is of him out there. could i request a slight hurt/comfort fic? kurt has a habit of sitting in the dark in the mansion (its quiet and peaceful for him), and fem!reader finds him up late one night. kurt is completely enamored with reader, so he doesn't want to burden her with his problems, but she gets kurt talking and slowly finds out that the bad memories of his past are keeping him up. kurt walks reader back to her room, and she tells him that if he ever wanted to talk or needed someone, she was there for him. kurt takes her hand, kisses it, and cant resist saying that merely being around her was enough for him to rest easy that night.

i'm sorry this was so long! thank you!

And only the stars will know

Kurt Wagner x fem!reader Words: 1.9K Warnings: slight hurt/comfort, but very faint A/N: Thanks so much for requesting. I feel like I didn't quite get the tone but I hope you like it anyway :)

It was a cold, starry night, the kind of night when you prefer to wrap yourself in a blanket, a hot drink in your hand and stare at the night sky from the windowsill. She was wrapped in a blanket, but she was a long way from her bed as she leaned against the doorframe to the balcony.

Her original plan had been to rush to her classroom and retrieve the papers she had left there, but the cool breeze in the corridors had distracted her from her plan.

Thinking someone had left a window open, she had followed the cold, even though her shivering body protested strongly against it, and ended up at the balcony. The doors were slightly ajar, leading her to think, as she had previously assumed, that one of the students had simply forgotten to close them.

However, just as she put her hand on the handle, she thought she recognized a person in the pale moonlight.

It was hard to make out, at first she thought she was imagining it, but when the clouds cleared the moon for a moment, she could clearly make out the outline of a person. A very familiar person.

She knew he was capable of it, after all, he had explained it to her, but it was the first time she had really experienced Kurt's ability to merge with the shadows and the darkness. Now that she knew he was sitting on the railing of the balcony, she could spot him, but she still had to make an effort to actually see him. Normally she would have spoken to him, but she didn't recognize the usually cheeky, flirtatious man, which had made her pause at the door frame.

Kurt had pulled his legs close to his body and hidden his head in his folded arms. His tail, which usually curled and swung back and forth in a bold and amused manner, was wrapped tightly around his body and didn't move a bit.

He must have been sitting out here for some time, because his body had started to shiver a few minutes after she found him and she couldn't stand it any longer. She carefully pushed the door open further, giving a soft squeak, but he didn't react, causing the worry line on her forehead to deepen, as he was usually so attentive. She shuffled quietly across the balcony, the stone icy cold beneath her bare feet, but he only noticed her when she carefully placed the blanket that had warmed her earlier around his shoulders.

He flinched and looked at her with wide, golden eyes, which she returned with a slight smile. She noticed that it was instantly easier for her to recognize him, as if he was making a conscious effort to remain visible.

„Meine Liebe, why are you still awake?" Her smile widened when she heard the nickname he honored her with. It wasn't much and in a language she didn't really speak, but it made her heart beat faster every time. "I could ask you the same thing, Kurt." She climbed carefully onto the railing next to him, careful not to fall. He seemed to have the same concern, as once she was seated, his tail detached itself from its place around his legs and wrapped itself around her waist.

"I couldn't sleep," she replied anyway, leaning forward slightly and adjusting the blanket so that it completely enveloped Kurt. It was only when she leaned back again that she noticed he had one arm hovering around her shoulders in case she lost her balance. Her smile softened and when he withdrew his arm, she reached for his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "And you, honey?"

Kurt let his eyes wander over her face for a moment before turning them skywards. "Same with me." That answer shouldn't have worried her as much as it did. It wasn't like him to answer so curtly or to avoid her gaze. Thinking back to her conversations with Kurt, she couldn't remember him ever letting his eyes wander far from her.

Still, she tried not to be too pressuring and instead attempted humor. "I doubt that. You don't need to read twenty-two essays on Shakespeare to deprive you of sleep." That elicited a slight smirk from him, but it didn't come close to the broad smile she was used to seeing from him. "Not quite, no."

Kurt pulled the blanket into place and she felt the grip of his tail tighten a little around her hips, but said nothing, just watched him in silence. His hands were in his lap and she could see that he was wringing them, apparently not knowing what to do with them. Her eyes traveled up over his tense posture to his face.

His mouth, usually twisted into a toothy smile, was now nothing more than a barely recognizable line and his eyes, usually glowing with energy, looked dull and sad. She couldn't bear to look at him. Kurt was important to her, one of the most important people in her life, and seeing him like this broke her heart.

"Kurt?" Her voice was soft and tentative and he didn't look directly at her, but when he did, his face looked tired, exhausted and resigned. Slowly, so that he had enough time to pull back, she lifted her hand and brushed a few strands of hair from his face before resting her hand on his cheek. "You know you can talk to me? If there's something on your mind... I'm here for you."

For a brief moment, his features softened and he smiled, just slightly but it was a genuine smile. "I know, meine Liebe. It's just a few bad memories. Nothing to burden your mind with." Gently, she let her hand move from his cheek to his hand so that she was now holding both of them in hers.

"Shouldn't it be up to me to decide?"?“

Kurt was silent for a long time and she almost thought he was going to turn away, but he let out a deep, almost sad chuckle and shook his head. "God, you're one of a kind, aren't you? What did I do to deserve the honor of your attention?"

"There was nothing to earn," she whispered. "It was yours from the beginning."

This seemed to leave him speechless for a moment, but when he caught himself, his expression softened, the worry line gone. "It was just a few bad memories," he explained and it took her a moment to realize that he was answering her previous question. "Usually they can't hurt me, but sometimes-"

"-they just come up, no matter how much you've distanced yourself from them," she finished his broken sentence and Kurt nodded slightly.

„Ja.“ His eyes wandered from her face to the lands of the Xavier Institute. "I have found my role, my place, in this world. I am surrounded by people who accept me for who I am, love me for who I am." For a few seconds, his gaze flickered over to her. "But that wasn't always the case."

That sad look she couldn't stand came into his eyes again and he withdrew his hands. "I was fine for a while, in the circus. They may not have all loved me, but I was accepted and respected. That was all I wanted. But outside-" His tail loosened from her hip and curled around his drawn-on legs again.

"Monster, they called me. Freak. Spawn of hell. Abominable. Dangerous..." She curled her fingers into her thighs. Kurt didn't deserve this kind of treatment. He was an angel, wonderful and magnificent, and the fact that people didn't treat him like this infuriated her.

Kurt let out a gasp. "I know none of this is true. I'm not a monster, not a spawn of hell, not abominable, but..."

"It still hurts." He nodded and she felt her heart break in her chest. "Oh Kurt..." She didn't care that they were sitting on the railing of a balcony that hovered several meters above the ground, but acted on instinct.

She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the blue mutant. He froze for a few seconds, but quickly recovered from his shock.

Under her touch, she could feel him relax and bury his face in her hair while his hands clawed at her back. It didn't hurt, but even if it did, she wouldn't say anything. Something slowly wrapped around her middle and it took her a little too long to realize it was his tail.

"You don't deserve this. You least of all of us," she murmured into his chest and felt his grip on her tighten. "You're a wonderful person, an angel, and I'm very grateful to know you." There was silence between them, though neither of them was uncomfortable. She snuggled against him as he buried his face in her hair and his arms and tail wrapped around her.

The softly breathed "thank you" was carried away by the wind, but she heard it anyway and wrapped her arms around him even tighter. If it had been a warmer night, she could have stayed in his arms for hours, but this night was cold and she soon began to shiver, despite the warmth radiating from Kurt's body.

At first she tried to suppress it, not wanting to let the moment go, but over time her trembling became so bad that Kurt noticed it as well and broke away from her, eliciting a complaining whimper from her. He, however, paid no attention and just looked at her with wide, worried eyes. "Meine Liebe, you're freezing to death. Why are you wearing such thin clothes?"

"It wasn't really the plan to go out," she confessed through chattering teeth and Kurt swung himself elegantly from the railing to offer her his hand. She gratefully accepted it and as soon as her feet touched the cold ground, she felt something warm envelop her.

Kurt had put the blanket back around her shoulders as well as wrapping his arm around her middle. He smiled down at her and finally he looked the way she knew he would - wide, fang-toothed smile, bright eyes and a curling tail.

"Come on, my dear, let's go inside. After all, I can't risk my favorite person catching a cold, can I?" She grinned slightly and really hoped he couldn't see the blush in her cheeks. From his smile, he very well could. " Don't let Rogue hear you say that."

He chuckled softly and led her through the hallways to her room. She stopped in front of her door, the blanket wrapped tightly around her, and looked up at him as he began to melt into the shadows again, though this time she had no trouble spotting him.

"Sweet dreams," he murmured with a smile and she lightly smiled.

"You too. And Kurt?" she called back to him as he tried to turn around. Her smile turned a little sheepish.

"If you have bad dreams again or are plagued by bad memories... My door is open to you. Any time."

Kurt's smile widened and his tail curled slightly at the tip as he carefully took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. "Don't worry, meine Liebe." He looked up at her through his lashes and his gaze was so soft and appealing at the same time that she felt like she would instantly burst. "

Just this time near you will be enough to keep me from having bad dreams for the next few weeks."

He gently let go of her hand, winked at her and disappeared into a dark cloud with a slight 'bamf'.

Frozen, blushing heavily, she stood there and looked at the spot where Kurt had been standing before she chuckled softly and turned towards her room. God, this man....

[iliketangerines]

Kuai Liang and Tomas with a reader who was sent by bi-han to assassinate them but reader is not intimidating AT ALL- like she’s small but has the perfect body for carrying a child. So both of them instantly are like “well time to put her to good use” basically both of them knock reader up and now reader is apart of the shirai ryu walking around carrying twins- like I imagine small reader in some Hanfu that’s white and yellow and is struggling to do stuff because of her stomach size. ((My breeding kink is going through the roof and all I can imagine is Tomas and kuai with a small reader sandwiched between them))

good use

a/n: god, i want to be sandwiched between them too

pairing: tomas vrbada x afab!reader x kuai liang

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), breeding kink, fingering, thigh riding

Kuai Liang and Tomas look at you with a quirked eyebrow

you’re small, about half a head shorter than the both of them, and you hold your weapon in one hand as you hold yourself in your stance

but they notice the hesitation in your steps, almost as if you didn’t want to hurt them, and Kuai Liang wonders where he’s seen you before

for a second, nothing happens between you two, but then you leap forward and the two are forced to defend themselves

you put up a much harder fight than either of them had anticipated, and it’s only when Kuai Liang finally recognizes you and calls your name do you flinch and let your guard down

which allows Tomas to come in with the attack that disarms you

you sit on your knees, hands tied behind your back and mask pulled down and eyes downcast as you await death while Kuai Liang and Tomas hold a quiet conversation

they come back toward you, and you bow your head forward, asking them to make it quick and clean so that you wouldn’t have to suffer

Kuai Liang instead offers an olive branch to you and asks if you would like to join the Shirai Ryu, and you look up at him in surprise

you take a few breaths as if contemplating your decision before you give a small nod, and Tomas unties you and helps you stand up

the next few weeks Kuai Liang stares at you from across the training grounds and has a foot soldier trail you to make sure you weren’t double crossing them

but you don’t do anything, you follow his orders, work hard in training, go to bed, and work your way up to sparring with Tomas and Kuai Liang

he remembers you from when he was a child, training alongside him despite your parent’s disapproval and had made a name for yourself in the Lin Kuei before disappearing for a few years

Kuai Liang remembers feeling sad, and Tomas had felt the same way as well

in the present, you spar with Tomas, and he pins you down, face smashed into the dirt and hands held behind your back

you concede, and Tomas lets go

you roll over onto your back and let your chest heave up and down in the air as you try to calm down from the rush of adrenaline from fighting

a sudden thought enters Kuai Liang’s head, the thought of you pinned down underneath him, hands gripping onto your wrists as he fucks into you

how sweet you would sound and how obedient you would be

Kuai Liang turns away and shakes the thoughts from his head, he cannot afford to be distracted by his own soldiers

and yet, he finds himself drawn to you ever since that day, and he notices Tomas shying away from you and growing flushed whenever you two spar

Kuai Liang talks with him, and Tomas rubs the back of his head and admits that he does like you and wants more with you

for a moment, Kuai Liang isn’t sure how to proceed, but he figures brothers should share

and so the two of them watch you carefully, and they notice how you lean in closer to their touch, how you flock to them easily, how much smaller you are to them

you’re not too short, just about half a head short

and yet, you still have to crane your head to look up at them, and Kuai Liang always has to turn his head away to not crack underneath the pressure and fuck you right then and there

and then one day, you finally pin down Kuai Liang in training, and you have the biggest smile and Kuai Liang can’t help himself and calls you beautiful

you freeze in place, and Kuai Liang watches you blush and get off him

you hold out a hand, head turned to the side to try and hide your blush, but he can still see the way your face flushes

Kuai Liang smiles and takes your hand to stand up, kissing the back of it softly when he gets up off the floor, and you let out a small squeak before bowing respectfully and scurrying off

the next few days, Tomas and Kuai Liang make moves on you, kissing the back of your hand, bringing you in closer, piling food onto your plate during mealtimes

and finally, at the end of the week, Tomas and Kuai Liang sit in the head office, going through papers and sorting all the information when they hear a knock on the door

they call for them to enter, and in you come in your sleepwear, a thing night robe that does nothing to hide your figure

Tomas and Kuai Liang immediately stop what they’re doing and ask you to come and sit down next to them, patting the space between them

you sit between the two of them and fiddle with the hem of your robe before asking if they’re actually making advancements on you, if you’re not imagining it?

because you like them too, but you don’t want to ruin their relationship or anything

and you start to ramble, and Tomas grabs your chin and brings you into his lap for a kiss

you let out a small yelp of surprise before melting into his arms and letting him support your weight as you deepen the kiss

Kuai Liang comes up behind you and kisses your neck, and you whine into Tomas’s mouth as Kuai Liang gropes you from behind

you start to grind into Tomas’s thigh, looking for some friction, and whimper into his mouth as he gropes your ass

Kuai Liang slips off the shoulder of your night robe and salivates at the realization that you’re not wearing a bra, and he wonders…

he slips a hand down the inside of your robe, and confirms his suspicions that you’re not wearing any underwear either

he grins at you and asks if you were looking for this in the first place, and you whine in Tomas’s mouth, turning warm as Kuai Liang slips off the rest of your robe from your body

he squeezes your chest, taking your sensitive nipples and rolling them between his heated fingers, and your bare cunt jerks against Tomas’s rough pants

Tomas groans into your mouth and grips onto your hips and slides them back and forth, making your head tilt back as you whine into the air

your clit drags against the rough material, and Tomas ducks his head down to suck hickeys into your neck as he drags you against his pants

Kuai Liang coos at your strained moans and continues to tease your nipples as your hands trail up and Tomas’s arms, not sure whether to let go of you or continue to tease you

you squirm in Tomas’s leg and let out a pant, asking them for more please in a desperate voice, and Kuai Liang coos at you

Tomas lets go of your hips and holds onto your shoulders, detaching his mouth from your neck to kiss you

Kuai Liang grabs onto your hips and drags them back towards him, so that you’re on your hands and knees between them

he can see the wet patch you’ve left on Tomas’s pants, and Kuai Liang chuckles at you and squeezes your plush ass between his calloused fingers

he runs his fingers through your folds and finds them soaking wet already

he chuckles at you, asking if you really got that wet just from Tomas letting you hump his thigh, and you place your face into Tomas’s neck and mumble something

Kuai Liang asks you to speak up, pinching your clit as he does so, and you whine loudly before telling them you had played with yourself earlier, needed them so bad that you fucked yourself open on a toy

Kuai Liang digs his nails into your ass, making you whimper and your hips buck backward, and he has to stop himself from imagining the thought of you fucking yourself desperately on some toy and moaning his and Tomas’s name

Tomas seems to find pleasure in the thought and bites into your neck, running his tongue over the mark, and he grips onto your shoulders tightly as if to control himself

you pant into Tomas’s shoulder, hips jerking as Kuai Liang slips his fingers into your wet pussy and slowly pumps them in and out of you

somehow, you’re still so tight around his fingers, and he decides you need to be stretched a little more if you want to take the both of them

Kuai Liang curls his fingers to try and find that little sweet spot that he knows that you have, and when your hips rock backward, and the top of your body collapses onto Tomas’s, Kuai Liang knows he’s found it

he massages his fingers into the spot, and he can feel your pussy growing wetter around him and dripping onto the floor as he continues to fuck you open on his fingers

you moan into Tomas’s shoulder, and the gray assassin coos at you and palms at his cock as he lavishes your neck with hickeys and bite marks

he groans into your skin as your hand wanders downward to take his cock out of his pants, and you pump Tomas, spreading the pre-cum all over his shaft

he grunts at the feeling and holds onto your wrist, simply holding on as he lets you stroke him

Kuai Liang continues to fuck you on his fingers, and he adds in a third finger, relishing in the sound of your high-pitched whine at the stretch

you pant and wiggle your hips around, and Kuai Liang has to grip onto your hips to hold you still for him

he fucks you on three of his fingers,and he feels your needy cunt clamp down on his fingers as you let out a loud keen and cum on his fingers

you thumb presses into Tomas’s slit, and the gray assassin bites your neck again to try and control himself from cumming

although that becomes increasingly harder with the way you quicken the pace of your hand, desperate to have him cum with you

Tomas takes your hand off of his cock, shushing you when you let out a small noise of complaint

Kuai Liang removes his fingers from your cunt and sticks them into his mouth, running his tongue over your taste and moaning at it

next time, he would have to taste you properly, but for now, he needed to fuck you and stretch you open on his cock

he slides your hips forward, and you straighten your back so that your chest presses flush against Tomas’s and Kuai’s chest presses into your back

Kuai Liang takes out his cock and slides it in between your folds, and you squirm as the head of his dick catches on your puffy clit

you moan for him to fuck you, please you need it, and Kuai Liang chuckles at you but concedes and slides into you

you grip onto Tomas’s shoulders, moaning at the stretch, and Kuai Liang isn’t much better, holding onto your hips tight enough to leave bruises as he tries not to cum

he thrusts into you shallowly, waiting for Tomas to slide his cock into you as well

the gray assassin takes his cock and notches it next to Kuai’s, and slowly slides in, kissing your face as a few tears slide down at the pain

you pant into the air but neither of them stop moving, fucking into you shallowly as you adjust to their size

Tomas groans at the sight of your stomach; he can see how their cocks bulge from your stomach, and his hips jerk harshly into you

you moan loudly, and the both of them take it as a cue to start fucking into you roughly

Kuai Liang brings his hand around to press a hand down on your stomach, and it makes you whine and throw your head back as you become jello in their arms

Tomas watches as the bulge disappears in and out of you, and he wants to see more, to see you big and round with their children, his children

he tells you so, telling you that you’d look so pretty with his children, all big and round and beautiful when you’re pregnant

it fills Kuai Liang’s head with thoughts of his children, and he can feel himself get harder at the thought of you pregnant and full of him

he holds onto your hips roughly as his hips grow erratic, thoughts of you leaking with his cum, stuffed with his heirs and so sensitive and pliable underneath his fingertips

Tomas isn’t much better, groaning as he holds onto your shoulder and tells you how pretty you look, how pretty you’ll look with their heirs

you whine and sob as your hands wander over Tomas’s arms and Kuai Liang’s hands, unsure of who to hold as you keen and cum on their cocks

they fuck into you harshly, chasing their own highs and cumming deep inside of you

they don’t slide out for a moment, taking a second to calm down before finally slipping out and letting you fall down and cuddle on Kuai Liang’s chest

Tomas watches as their cum drips out of you and onto the floor, and he takes his fingers and pushes it back into it, insistent on not wasting a single drop

Kuai Liang pets your hair as you whine, and he picks you up into his arms to take you to the hot springs and help you relax and clean up

he helps you clean up, and when he carries you back to your bed, Tomas has the bed made and helps moisturize you and dress you in some light clothes

they tuck you into bed and cuddle up next to you, a protective hand over you as you all fall asleep together

months later, Kuai Liang tuts at you and picks up something off the floor and hands it back to you, and you smile at him gratefully

you rub a hand over your round belly, baby kicking hard, Tomas comes over with a few fruit slices and kisses your forehead

you smile at the both of them, basking in the sun, happy that you had met the both of them again

[i-cant-sing]

Teen! Fushiguro has a big appetite, and suddenly a man from another clan comes and tells her this.

"If you eat that much, no one will want to marry you."

And she bombed, instantly shocked, like I didn't recognize you and you commented on me like that. But she didn't care and continued eating

I'm imagining the reaction of some platonic yandere who would beat that guy's ass.

(reference from mitsuri, demon slayer and sorry if my English is bad)

okay, so obv, all the yanderes would make sure the guy who said that to u has to use a tube to eat for the rest of his life, but like the following yanderes:

Yandere Uncle Naoya would actually pop a vessel as he heard the words slip from that man. Its exactly why he wouldnt bring u to eat junk at 7/11 but your poverty cravings were on the high. Naoya is enraged because how dare this man even think it was okay for him to talk to you, a member of the pure blooded Zenin clan. And whats worse is that u even replied to jerk face there with a nonchalant "yeah, thats the plan". Naoya quite literally drags the man away from u and into the aisles at the back where he begins beating the absolute shit out of him and u dont even try to stop him because even if naoya stopped now, hed still come back for the man later and the punishment would be worse later.

Yandere (self proclaimed) Godfather/Babysitter Nanami gives the guy one warning, only one before pouncing on him. I mean, youre just sitting there, eating your food and minding your own business when some leech says this shit to you and Nanami sees the way your smile falters, the way your eyes dim a bit. When the guy doesnt back off, tries to say something else, Nanami tells you to "finish your food. I'll be back." before grabbing the man by his collar and taking him outside to beat the lights out of him. Then he returns, and orders you another sandwich and tells you to eat more.

Yandere big bro Choso doesnt exactly get what the comment meant at first. It isnt until the guy leaves and he asks what that was about that you explain to him what that insult was. Oh boy, Choso is unnervingly silent all the way home, and only after youre asleep does he go out to hunt that man down and kill him. Maybe he could give him to Mahito to play with a little.

Yandere dads/besties SatuSugu work as a team when they hear this. Suguru is keeping you distracted and feeding you more food while Gojo traps the man in his domain expansion and tortures him there for fun.

[7s3ven]

LAST CHRISTMAS. tom riddle

( master list )

IN WHICH… Tom can’t fall in love, he shouldn’t be able to fall in love. So why does he love Y/N L/N with her yellow robes, doe eyes, and her obsession with snow so much that he’d kill anyone in his path to get to her?

Minor warnings : Not proof-read, kind of long, dark Tom Riddle, somewhat yandere

—

“It may be hard to believe, but there was a time where Voldemort loved someone. He was young… barely eighteen. He loved her so much… that he would kill for her. So he did. He killed every boy interested in her and every girl who tormented her. And then he turned on her. Nobody knows what happened to sweet Y/N L/N. Maybe he killed her, maybe she got away… or maybe she stayed with him and let him taint her heart.

He was a boy who knew nothing of real love while she was a girl who wanted nothing but that.”

Tom couldn’t fall in love. He physically shouldn’t be able to fall in love. He wouldn’t let himself to fall in love. He would not allow himself that wretched moment of weakness his peers all seemed to suffer from.

Every day it was always, “Riddle, will you go out with me?” His answer was always no yet these lovesick girls never learned. They all flocked to him like annoying seagulls to a single, lonely chip.

“Excuse me,” A hand suddenly tapped Tom’s shoulder. He turned around, almost glowering at the girl in front of him. Before he could reject her, she spoke up. “You, uh, left this, Riddle.”

Of course, she knew his name but he didn’t know her’s.

She held out Tom’s precious diary and he was quick to snatch it out of her grip. He observed it, narrowing his eyes slightly before he subtly nodded. “Thank… you…” The words felt strange rolling off his tongue. He had never thanked anybody. He hesitated because he didn’t know her name.

“Y/N L/N.” She uttered, smiling.

“What?”

“My name is Y/N L/N. You seemed confused… so I thought you didn’t know me.”

Tom’s eyes flickered to the prefect badge pinned proudly to her robe. He arched an eyebrow. “You… you’re a prefect?” He questioned. He had never seen her at the meetings, which was strange because he noticed everyone.

“Yeah. Head girl.” Y/N beamed again, hardly offended by the fact that Tom didn’t know her despite them being counterparts.

Tom found it strange how he didn’t know her. He was supposed to considering she was the head girl. Tom observed her, staring at Y/N’s Hufflepuff uniform and the yellow ribbons intertwined with her braided hair.

“Right.” Tom muttered, clearing his throat.

“It was a pleasure talking to you, Riddle. I’ll see you around.” Y/N was the first to walk away. Tom wasn’t used to that because normally, he did that. He stared at Y/N’s back, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

Everybody was frightened by Tom’s cold demeanour, but not Y/N. She had approached him so casually without a second thought.

Tom shook his head, sighing under his breath. “Hufflepuffs.”

The next time Tom stumbled upon Y/N was when she had been cornered by three Slytherin girls. He recognized the ringleader as the girl he had rejected last week.

“Stay away from Tom.” The silver-haired girl grumbled, invading Y/N’s personal space. Y/N didn’t seem at all phased. She just smiled as she stared into the girl’s bright blue eyes.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Y/N questioned, innocently tilting her head to the side.

“Just stay away from Tom, got it?” The Slytherin girl repeated, her glare hardening.

Tom cleared his throat from behind the trio, making his presence known. “Is there a problem here?” He asked, arching an eyebrow.

The trio of Slytherin girls instantly recognized his voice. “Riddle!” The ringleader exclaimed, jumping. She nervously smiled. “We were just helping L/N here. She needed help with… uh…” She trailed off, her eyes wildly darting around.

“Her makeup!” One of her friends piped up, “She likes a boy and wanted our help!”

The third girl quickly nodded and grabbed Y/N by the shoulders, pushing her forward. “Isn’t she pretty? Imagine how pretty she would be with makeup!”

Tom’s stare hardened. He glanced down at Y/N, his lips pressed into a thin line. “She’s pretty enough as is.” He spoke, reaching out to grasp a strand of Y/N’s hair. “Well, I’ll be needing her. Prefect business, you understand?” Tom ripped Y/N from the girl’s grasp and led her down the long, winding hallway.

“Do you always have to deal with those pests?” Tom questioned, looking at Y/N once more.

“They aren’t that bad. They were worse in first year.” She smiled but that didn’t comfort Tom.

“You shouldn’t let them push you around. I’ll talk to them and make sure they never bother you again.” Tom furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Y/N uttered, but Tom didn’t hear her. He was already walking off, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Y/N frowned. “I hope he doesn’t kill them… he looks like the type.”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “No. He wouldn’t murder anybody. He’s the head boy.” She walked off in the opposite direction, quietly humming under her breath, unknown to the horrors Tom was committing with his damn pet snake.

Y/N strutted into the Great Hall, ready to eat dinner and gossip about useless things with her friends. But when she approached her companions, she was overwhelmed with their questions.

“Y/N, did you hear about the attacks?”

“I heard those three Slytherin bullies were targeted.”

“Well, they kind of deserved it. It’s not like they’re fully dead. They’re just stone.”

Y/N sat down, confused. “What happened?” And asked, tilting her head to the side.

Bella was the first to explain. “You know those three Slytherin girls who are always picking on you? They were all found turned to stone.” She looked around to make sure nobody was listening before she leaned forward and whispered, “The professors say it wasn’t a hex so they don’t really know what to do.”

“Oh… that’s…” Y/N couldn’t muster up any words. She glanced over at Tom, who was drinking out of his golden goblet. He locked eyes with her and his lips twisted into a cruel smirk.

“Did they find the perpetrator?” Y/N questioned, looking at Bella.

“No. I heard a few students talking about some sort of chamber but I wasn’t close enough to hear anything else.”

For the rest of dinner, Y/N was distracted by the way Tom kept glancing over at her. She felt a sick feeling in her stomach and she tried to convince herself that Tom played no part in this whole mess.

“I think I’m going to go to bed early.” Y/N stiffly smiled as she drank the last of her water from her cup.

Y/N quickly stood up, speed-walking out of hall. She heard someone following her and she spun around, hoping it wasn’t Tom. Luckily, it wasn’t.

It was a Gryffindor boy with messy black hair and stunning blue eyes. He grinned at her. “Y/N L/N, right?”

She slowly nodded.

“Listen, I’ve been interested in you for a while and I don’t want you to feel inclined to accepting my offer, but I would love if you would come to Hogsmeade with me.”

Y/N awkwardly smiled. “Ah, sorry, I’m a little busy. Maybe next time?” She suggested, trying to brush past the boy. But he grasped her wrist

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“You heard her the first time. She’s busy.” Tom had walked to stand behind the boy, towering over him with a mean glare.

“Right.” The Gryffindor thickly swallowed, “I���ll be on my way, then.” He scurried off, almost tripping over his robes.

“You didn’t have to scare him off.” Y/N murmured as she spared Tom a look before resuming her walk to the Hufflepuff common room. Tom followed after her, which unsettled Y/N.

She should have been placed in Gryffindor with how brave she was to eventually confront Tom. “What did you do with those Slytherin girls?” She softly inquired.

She heard Tom chuckle. “I didn’t do anything. Trust me.”

“It’s a bit hard to trust you when you smirked at me like that.” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows.

“I never touched those girls. I merely gave them a warning before leaving them. And next thing I know, they were turned to stone. Some Ravenclaw first year found them.”

Y/N stared into Tom’s eyes, looking for any indication that he was lying. It was a bit hard to read him considering he barely had any emotions. But there was a gleam in his usually blank eyes.

“Okay.” She whispered, despite not fully believing him.

Tom had ended up walking Y/N to her common room and she politely nodded. “Good night, Riddle.”

“Call me Tom. Good night, Y/N.”

Rowan, the poor Gryffindor boy who had asked Y/N out, was the next target. Though, he wasn’t found turned to stone. His body was entirely mutilated and Y/N took pity on the third year girl who had discovered his body in the bathroom.

Y/N sat with Bella, pushing her food around on her silver plate. On instinct, she glanced at Tom. He had that same infuriating smirk and this time, he slightly raised his goblet. His actions made his friends laugh.

“I’m leaving for class early. See you at lunch, Bella.”

Her friend hummed, too busy staring at a boy from across the room to notice Y/N’s uneasiness.

Y/N stiffened as she saw Tom stand up out of the corner of her eye. She tried to speed walk away but he easily caught up to her.

“What did you do do him?” She asked, referring to Rowan. He had no enemies and Tom was the only person Y/N could think of. After all, the head boy hadn’t seemed too pleased to see Y/N talking with Rowan.

“Accusing me again? There’s an actual murderer on the loose and instead, you’re pointing fingers at me?” Tom let out a small scoff while Y/N silently stared up at him. “I’m head boy. Do you really think I would decapitate a body?”

“Nobody said anything about the body being decapitated.”

“I saw it. As head boy, I was at the scene.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes while Tom mentally cursed at his mistake. Hufflepuffs were usually easy to gaslight, but not Y/N. And that annoyed Tom.

“They’re still observing the body but I wouldn’t be walking alone if I were you. This attacker seems to be targeting people who are,” Tom took a step closer to Y/N, “All alone.”

Tom cunningly grinned as he shrugged. “Enjoy your walk, Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t want to take any chances with Tom since he was her prime suspect. But if he was the murderer, why wasn’t she his next victim? She was alone and the castle was deserted. Now would be the perfect time.

Tom chuckled as the cogs in Y/N’s head started moving. He was going to strut away from the Hufflepuff but Y/N was quick to grab his sleeve.

“Walk me to class.” She demanded. For the first time in a long time, Tom felt his cheeks heat up. And strange enough, he felt a jolt of lightning pass through his body when Y/N’s grasped him.

He concealed those odd emotions. “With pleasure.”

Potions was their first class. Usually, Gryffindors and Slytherins were put together but this year the school decided to mix it up. Classes were now decided on a student’s academic record. And lucky for Tom, all of his courses were with Y/N. Never had he been so glad that one of his peers had almost beaten him for the spot of top student.

Y/N tried to sit away from Tom but he dragged her to a table near his friends. She nervously sat down, tapping her foot against the floor.

She could feel someone burning holes into her back with their glare and Y/N looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with a Ravenclaw girl. She sneered at Y/N.

The H/C-haired teenager slowly turned her head to look at her textbook, but her peace was short lived when a cauldron came crashing down on her head.

It hit her with such force that her head jolted forward and slammed against the wooden table. A sickening crack was heard and the class went silent.

Tom and his friends were the first to react. Avery lifted Y/N and helped her sit up. Her nose was heavily bleeding and the crimson liquid dribbled down her chin, staining the pages of her new and crisp book.

Malfoy held his hands underneath her chin to catch most of the blood while Avery dapped at Y/N’s nose with the sleeve of his robe.

Rosier grabbed the cauldron, slamming it back down in front of the Ravenclaw. At that very moment, Professor Slughorn entered.

He observed the bizarre scene, effortlessly piecing everything together. “Tom, my boy, please escort Miss L/N to the hospital wing. You may bring Mr Avery and Mr Malfoy with you. Rosier, Mulciber, Nott, Lestrange, I want a full explanation of what happened.” Slughorn turned to the Ravenclaw, “Miss Li, I will also require your explanation.”

Hyehi Li, the girl who had thrown the cauldron at Y/N’s head, was gone. She was found by the Ravenclaw Quidditch up on the roof, impaled onto a sharp spear. The students of Hogwarts were growing restless. Parents wanted to collect their kids but the murderer could be anybody, staff or student. Therefore, it was imperative that the professors worked fast to track the attacker down.

Y/N sat in her dorm, thinking to herself. All of the people attacked were connected to her. The three Slytherin girls had bullied her, Rowan had somewhat flirted with her, and Hyehi had injured Y/N. And Tom was there to witness all three incidents.

There wasn’t anybody else who could be doing these things. Y/N was also aware of Tom’s fascination with the dark arts.

It was Christmas Eve and since the school couldn’t technically hold the students in the castle over the holiday, they had no choice but to let them go.

Y/N’s parents were on a trip right now, so she had to stay behind. Not many students wanted to stay at Hogwarts, but Y/N knew Tom and his posse would be roaming the halls.

She was nervous to walk out of the common room, but she was hungry, even at this time when it was close to midnight, and the kitchen was so close.

“L/N!” A voice Y/N didn’t recognize suddenly called out. She turned around, watching a Slytherin boy jog towards her. She recognized him as a year below her.

“Ah… you shouldn’t be talking to me, it’s not safe.” Y/N had come to the conclusion that any boy or girl who teased or flirted with her was in serious trouble if Tom ever found in.

“Why? I just wanted to say happy Christmas Eve. And thanks for helping me with my homework this year. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Y/N stiffly smiled and nodded her head. “You’re welcome. Good bye.” Y/N wanted to leave but the boy blocked her path.

“Do you have anybody to celebrate Christmas with? You’re always welcome in the Slytherin common room. Riddle seems to have taken a liking to you.”

Speak of the devil, Y/N could hear Avery’s loud laughs from just around the corner. And where Avery was, Tom and his friends were sure to follow.

Y/N’s eyes slightly widened. “Please leave me alone… for your sake.” She whispered, trying to brush past him. But the boy didn’t seem to sense the urgency in Y/N’s voice as he grabbed her shoulder just as Tom came into sight.

A feeling of dread overcame Y/N as Tom approached the pair. “Onyx.” He greeted the boy by the last name. “What business do you have with Y/N?”

Onyx, as oblivious as ever, smiled. “I was just thanking her for helping me. And I was going to invite her to spend Christmas in the Slytherin chamber.”

Tom narrowed his eyes as he slowly nodded. “… I see. We’ll have to finish decorating the tree then. Come on.” Tom guided Onyx with a firm hand on his back. Y/N’s breath trembled and finally having had enough of being connected to all the murders, she silently followed Tom and his friends and Onyx.

There was a loud bang and as Y/N peeked around the corner, she almost gasped. Avery, the supposed sweet boy who had helped her with her bloody nose, had just knocked Onyx out cold.

“Let’s get this over with quickly. I have some matters to attend to.” Tom pulled out his wand, pointing the tip at Onyx. “Avada Kedavra.” There was a blinding flash of green light and then all was still.

Y/N stumbled back. She quickly sprinted off, making sure to be quiet and not leave anything behind. She burst into the Hufflepuff common room and began to wildly knock on every door.

“Why is no one here?!” She exclaimed, pounding her fist against the wall. “The headmaster and Slughorn are gone too! And Dumbledore- Wait, I can tell Dumbledore!”

She rushed to the exit but crashed into a tall figure. She fell back, hitting her head.

“You didn’t think you would actually get away, did you?” It was just Tom this time. His friends were nowhere to be seen.

Y/N scrambled back but Tom easily outstretched a hand, grabbing her collar and pulling her up. “I got you a gift.” He said, handing Y/N a narrowly wrapped present as soon as the clock struck midnight.

“If it’s part of a body, I don’t want it.”

Tom merely smiled. “Open it and find out.”

Y/N opened the lid a tiny bit, jumping when she saw a pure white snake inside. It hissed and bared it’s sharp fangs at her.

“Sweet dreams, amour.” Tom uttered, stepping forward and knocking the present out of Y/N’s grasp. The box fell and the snake swiftly slithered over to Y/N’s ankle. “I love you.”

He harshly pressed his lips to Y/N’s just as the snake opened its mouth and sank its fangs into her flesh.

“Is this really the best way to do it?” Avery questioned as him and Lestrange pulled a wooden plank from their dorm floor. “We could just hide her dead body in a closet. Though, eventually, her corpse is going to rot and stink.”

Tom, from his position on his bed, tilted his head to the side. “Who said anything about her being dead?”

Nott arched an eyebrow and laughed. “She’s not actually alive, is she? Because stuffing her in there would be cruel.”

“Since when did you care about being cruel?” Tom retorted, “To be honest, I’m not actually sure whether she’s dead or not. I checked her pulse and there was none but her heart is still beating. It’s… strange. And fascinating.”

Tom’s lips curled into a smirk.

Y/N was shoved beneath the floor boards right next to Tom’s bed. He lay down, closing his eyes and listening to the dull thumping beat of Y/N’s heart.

All that happened last year. Y/N’s body was never found and Hogwarts lost a bright student. Tom’s friends could never hear Y/N’s heartbeat but Tom could.

He heard it at night when he was cramming in some late night study.

He heard it when he was kissing another girl in his bed and it reminded him of who his heart belonged to.

He heard it as he descended into a dark madness that not even Dumbledore could stop.

And he heard it as he yelled the very same spell he had yelled at Onyx on that fateful night at Harry Potter. Up in the castle, Y/N’s body still lay shoved deep under.

As Tom Riddle, now known as Voldemort, faded into nothing, he could hear Y/N’s heartbeat get louder and louder and he was reminded of what he had done to the sweet Hufflepuff.

That was her last Christmas and she had spent it under the floor, dead but not fully, never to be found or seen or heard from again.

“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart… but the very next day you stuffed it underneath the floorboards with the rest of my corpse until the sound of my heartbeat intensified your descent into madness.”

[rhenuvee]

Made With Love [Neuvillette x reader]

Summary: Neuvillette has feelings for you, but doesn't know how to act on them. The Melusines try to help, but ultimately he wants to start and act on his own emotions.

A/N: Neuvilette in the last act of the archon quest made me sad :( // I need someone to say "Was that your first kiss in 500 years?" to Neuvi like Natasha to Steve.

Warnings: dialogue heavy, reader is shorter than Neuvi, reader is a baker

➽────────────❥

"Wait- Monsieur Neuvillette!"

A small voice called out. The Iudex was just about to go out for his weekly walk around the city, until a little Melusine stopped him. They were the ones who suggested he go out for some fresh air, since they sensed that he was still stirred from Fontaine's recent crisis along with handling his duties.

"Hm? What is it Sedene?" He asks, stopping in his steps so that she could catch up to him.

"Are you going to see (y/n)?" Sedene asks, putting her hand curiously to her lips. Straight to the point, the Iudex thinks. His breath gets caught in his throat for a split second, surprised at her words.

Despite being familiar with Melusines and their unique sixth sense, he feels like a deer caught in headlights when they suddenly mention you. Because they know about you- yet they never say the obvious thing directly.

The Melusines have noticed a change in his behaviour, and it started happening when he went out for his walks. One day the Chief Justice came back with a box of macarons, which was quite curious since he usually didn't eat sweets, and so he gave one to each Melusine he passed by. As time went on, more Melusines started noticing Neuvilette smiling... for seemingly no reason at all.

No reason except one that the Melusines instantly picked up on. In fact, you didn't exactly have to be a Melusine to recognize you and the Chief Justice's behaviour, both skirting around your feelings for each other. It didn't take them long to find out about you, and find your bakery from the thank you card in the box of macarons he bought. Monsieur Neuvillette in love... how exciting, they think.

However, with developing emotions comes confusion for the Iudex.

"Yes..." Neuvillette answers directly, yet a bit shyly, a bit surprised at his own forwardness with admitting it. Sedene gestures for him to bend down, to which he complies. She reaches up, and uses her hands to smooth out the top of his head.

"There we go, perfect!" she says cheerfully. Neuvillette realized what she was trying to do, and can't help but smile, though a little embarrassed. The Melusines have been trying to encourage him to act on his feelings, or at least make you realize that he is interested in you. Right now, Sedene was preening his hair, as if to get him ready for a date. He could only imagine the thought of that happening.

"Thank you Sedene, it is much appreciated. I'll be off now."

"You're welcome! Have a nice walk, Monsieur Neuvillette!" she calls out, waving cutely.

He should not be nervous since he was just walking to a bakery, is what he tells himself. However, the Iudex finds himself smoothing out his robes, suddenly thankful of Sedene's gesture with his hair. He takes a step inside the cute little shop as the bells dings.

"Welcome- oh! Good afternoon Monsieur Neuvillette!" Your cheery voice greets him warmly. He seemed a little spaced out to you, but you wait patiently for his response. You take the time to admire his features- You can't help but feel that he felt ethereal in a way. You had to admit he was quite handsome, with how beautiful his eyes were, and how tidy he kept his look.

"Good afternoon." You brush your hands on your apron and quickly walk towards him to have your weekly chats. "How was your week?"

"Busy." You say with a long sigh. "We've gotten so many orders lately, it's hard for me to keep up... Actually something interesting happened- I felt like my boss was about to fire me."

"What?" Neuvillette says in a surprised tone.

"No no! I was kidding! Well... kind of. I'm not sure." The truth about the bakery's rising sales was because of Neuvillette's constant visits. People are naturally shocked to see the Iudex doing things like this, which quickly lead to the Steambird catching this on the paper. You guessed the message was that if Neuvillette kept coming in, that meant the pastries were good.

However, your boss was suspicious thinking it was too good to be true. She noticed that Neuvillette would mostly direct his attention to you, which created the comical hypothesis that you were a criminal and the Iudex was onto you.

"She thinks I'm... going to try you?"

"Yes, it's kind of funny actually." You fish out a newspaper from last week, pointing to his picture photographed with headlines about him visiting the bakery. Neuvillette found it odd how he never seen this before. That, and how his hair looks from the back.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't apologize! Like I said, I find it quite humorous. Besides, I'm happy that more people have enjoyed our baked goods." You quickly reply. He smiles, giving you the relief that he doesn't need to feel sorry. "How have you been, Monsieur Neuvillette?"

"I've been feeling a little troubled as of late..." Usually when you ask him how things are, he provides a neutral answer. But today he decides to let his feelings out a little. You want to ask him, but you're afraid of crossing that boundary, that it might be personal. You feel bad, after seeing his furrowed eyebrows and downcast eyes, seeing how he might be dealing with something difficult.

"I hope things turn out better, Monsieur Neuvillette. If you want, I'm always here to listen." He smiled, which you now realize is quite a rare but beautiful sight. Neuvillette always admired your kindness, and it compelled him to get closer to you. He was aware he is no good at small talk, or even regular casual conversations, but he is willing to get better at it.

"Thank you, (y/n). I'm afraid this is something I have to deal with on my own." You nod, as a way to affirm his statement, then go around your counter to decide to grab something.

"Did Aeval like the raspberry flavoured macaroons I tried making? I wish I could've seen her reaction in person, but I haven't taken the Aquabus lately."

"I'll be sure to ask her for you, though I'm sure she does. Many of the Melusines are fond of your pastries, ever since I brought them some." He remembers that day. Your smile was just as bright as it is today.

"I'm grateful." You say happily... though there's something else you want to mention. "Speaking of the Melusines, is that a gift from them?"

You point to the top of his head.

"Oh, my hair ribbon?" He says fiddling his hand through the back of his hair. However, you shake your head.

"The tiara."

"The tiara-..." Neuvillette moves his hand to the top of his head, where he feels the tiniest tiara. He could not see it, but from the textures he felt some small shells and rocks. The Iudex realizes this was probably what Sedene was doing with his hair. You giggle, catching on that even he is just discovering it. "I suppose it is. Sedene must have put it in my hair just before this."

Neuvillette deducts that the tiara must be something from Melusine tradition that they wear for special occasions or gatherings. You watch as Neuvillette gives a chuckle, probably at how cute the Melusines actions were. And you couldn't disagree.

"You know, the Melusines have been saying a lot of good things about you." You say, trying to lighten the mood.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, they keep telling me how kind and intelligent the Iudex is." Neuvillette nods. The Melusines are very kind to him, so-

"And how tall he is."

Oh.

"And handsome."

Well.

Neuvillette politely covers the lower half of his face with his hand to hide his expression. He gets flustered at the thought of the little Melusines flattering him to you, while knowing their intentions.

"I apologize, I think the Melusines-"

"It's alright! I know they mean well. Besides, it's not really a surprise to me..." You say the last part shyly, but it doesn't go unnoticed by him. In fact it's the part that is highlighted the most, and almost prompted him to blush furiously before you quickly said something else. "I like it, it suits you." you smile, gazing up at him.

"Thank you, (Y/n)." Is all Neuvillette is able to utter, after seeing your beaming smile.

"You're welcome! Take these, they're on the house! I hope it'll make your day better." You present him a small box of some assorted sweets. all different flavours and decorated with different fruits.

"You're too kind, but I couldn't possibly take these without paying you."

"Oh please I insist! They're made with love." you coo the last part as a way to try and convince him, to which Neuvillette finds himself getting flustered at. It's a common phrase, and yet he interprets a slightly different meaning from it.

In his eyes, he finds you attractive, yes- cute when you wipe your nose when he tells you that you have flour on it, radiant when you smile while giving macaroons to the Melusines. He's come to know more about you the more he talked to you, and how kind you were. And though his weekly walks in the city were to ease his mind, he couldn't imagine not seeing you as a part of his routine. You are the reason why he has this foreign feeling inside him- one that makes his heart beat faster when you accidentally brush fingertips with him, or give him a compliment.

"Made with love..." He whispers, mostly to himself. You get flustered when you hear him say those words, thinking he might have caught onto your feelings. You hold your breath to prepare yourself for what he might say. "I quite like that."

To your surprise, the Iudex reveals to you one of his rare subtle smiles as you bring the box to him. You can't help but agree with his statement, except you meant it for how handsome he looks when he does that along with how soft his eyes get. You hope to see it more.

"I keep baking things for the Melusines, though you never told me what kinds of things you like. What do you like, Monsieur Neuvillette?"

For a moment, Neuvillette stares at your lips, then back at your eyes that are looking so sweetly at him. He feels his heart beating faster...

"You..."

He almost says that word- that dangerous one word.

"Neuvillette..." you say so softly that it's almost a whisper. Oh, he's starting to adore how you say his name without formalities. He reaches his hand out briefly, then retracts it and clears his throat. He wants to ask you.

But...

"I apologize." He realizes he doesn't know what he's apologizing for. "I... am not really sure what kinds of things I like."

"Oh." you say a little confused. The Iudex feels a little embarrassed, but you always know exactly what to say. Your smile doesn't falter when he gives his strange answer. "Well, when you do know, tell me!"

"I will." He says, in a little more firm tone- more like a promise.

➽────────────❥

A few hours passed, and it was evening now. It started raining shortly after his recent interaction with you. As the hydro dragon himself says, he does not weep, he is just stirred. He went back to his office, but wasn't able to concentrate on his work. He mulled over the interaction he just had with you. He feels like his emotions are about to leap out of his chest, and they almost did in that moment. Neuvillette is still in the process of getting used to expressing himself. He didn't know what to do next.

He wanted to ask you to dinner or something else you may enjoy, but found himself being held back. He was afraid of making you uncomfortable, the fact that he was essential now responsible for all of Fontaine, and furthermore his true identity which you do not know of. The Iudex even considered writing a letter to the traveller and Paimon to ask them for help, but didn't want to trouble them.

"Neuvillette!" he hears a faint voice call out for him. "Monsieur Neuvillette!"

He turns back, recognizing that the voice was you. But he couldn't see you in the city that was slowly getting more grey... except an umbrella with legs.

"Monsieur Neuvillette- you don't have an umbrella, you're going to get soaked!" you say in concern for him.

He realizes he can't really see your face since the umbrella was covering you... it's quite adorable. It makes him smile for a brief moment. He reaches for the handle and raises it up so that it now covers the both of you. The Iudex's breath gets caught when his throat tightens, when you are revealed to him.

Through his eyes, he can see you telling him something- however, he is not focused on that. He can't help but admire how your eyes glimmer even in these grey skies. How even when he was drenched you are happy to see him.

His overflowing heart cannot stop him anymore, for his free hand reaches to softly cup your cheek, his body bending down to your height. You let out a small gasp and immediately stop talking. Your heart is beating furiously as well.

"May I?" Neuvillette asks you with the most delicate of whispers.

"Yes," you say, unable to contain your smile. "Of course, Neuvillette." Yours and Neuvillette's eyes close as you bring your hands under his damp jaw. He is the one who closes the gap between you two, and kisses you with fervour, while not forgetting to be gentle. His lips are soft, melding with yours perfectly. His hand still holds your cheek throughout with a featherlight touch.

You and Neuvillette are all butterflies when you look into each other's eyes, relishing in what just happened.

"I believe I know the answer to your question earlier." The Iudex says breathlessly. "You have captured my heart, (Y/n)."

"And you have captured mine." You reply lovingly. Though, after saying it out loud, it seems you both knew this is how you felt for a while now.

"If I may ask, would you like to accompany me to have dinner and see a play at the Opera Epiclese after?" Neuvillette finally gets the confidence to express what he wanted to ask you. And he's even happier when he already feels he knows your answer from how you're smiling.

"I'd love to." You say, wrapping your arms around him. He returns the gesture with his one free arm, with both of you basking in the moment for a while before you head to your destination.

"The rain seems to be stopping." You say, gazing up at the sky seeing less droplets fall. Your eyes curiously watch how the rain magically decided to stop.

"So it is..." He does the same, except his eyes quickly fall back to you with a sigh of relief.

➽────────────❥

Thank you for being patient! I hope you all enjoyed. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are appreciated. Stay tuned for a milestone event and more of my drafts being released!

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part three)

(part one)(part two)

Everyone’s left to “let him get some rest,” but Eddie doesn’t rest, not really. Although he does drift off the second he closes his eyes, his sleep is not restful and his dreams are plagued: 

Chrissy Cunningham stood in his trailer, small blonde girl in her cheerleader uniform. If Eddie hadn’t only just come out of his room with an unopened baggie of ketamine, he might’ve thought she’d already overdosed. Her eyes were rolled back, body frozen stiff like she was having some sort of seizure. Eddie shouted at her, shook her shoulders, waved his hands and snapped his fingers in front of her face, but Chrissy didn’t respond. He feared she might collapse, but then she did something much, much worse: she began to levitate. 

Eddie immediately let go of her shoulders and scrambled back as some invisible force slammed the girl into the ceiling. Her bones snapped; one at a time, her arms and legs twisted in unnatural angles. Her jaw unhinged and cracked out of place, her mouth now stuck in a horrible, soundless scream. Her eyes bled, dripping red down her cheeks, and then they exploded, popped with a sickening squelching sound, and her eyelids caved in to empty, bloody sockets.

Eddie wakes up screaming. His heart pounds frantically, the monitor beeping like crazy, and all his muscles are tense like he’s ready to run. 

Someone is at his side immediately; a gentle hand slips into his own, a soothing voice asks if he’s alright and tells him it’s okay, he’s safe now, it was just a nightmare. Eddie recognizes that hand, that voice, that shape in the dark. When did Harrington come back?

Eddie’s gasping, struggling to inhale a proper breath into his fear-frozen lungs. His wild eyes dart over the figure sitting beside him before landing on the hand that’s curled around his. Harrington must misread something in his expression then, because he mutters, “Sorry,” and starts to pull his hand away.

“No,” Eddie manages, instantly grabbing the other’s hand again and gripping it tight. “Keep- keep holding onto me.” 

“Always,” Harrington whispers, the word an exhale under his breath, so soft Eddie thinks he may have imagined it. 

Harrington rubs his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. His touch is calming, grounding. Eddie’s breath begins to even out and his heart returns to a normal pace as his residual panic slowly dissipates. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he sighs heavily once he’s recovered a bit. He presses his free hand to his chest. “That was the most terrifying dream I’ve ever had in my life.”

“It’s over now,” Harrington says, still soft, still tracing circles across Eddie’s skin. “Whatever it was, it can’t hurt you anymore.”

But it can, because Eddie can still see those horrible images behind his eyelids every time he blinks. He says so, shakily, “Think it's burned into my brain now, though. It was so real, man, I’m not sure I’ll ever get her disfigured face and mangled body out of my head.”

Harrington pauses. “Wait a second, did you dream about Chrissy?” 

“Yeah, how did you-?” Eddie starts to ask, then stops as he remembers what Harrington had said yesterday about Chrissy being murdered in his trailer. The realization sets in with a cold chill. He shakes his head in horror, tightening his hold on Harrington’s hand like it's a lifeline. “No. Oh no, please don't tell me that actually happened.” 

“It did. I’m sorry, it did.” Harrington clasps Eddie’s hand in both of his now. “That wasn’t just a nightmare, Ed, that was a memory. You’re starting to remember.” 

“Well, shit,” Eddie mutters. If that’s what his lost memories are like, he thinks he’d very much rather them stay forgotten. “I’m starting to see why my brain blocked it all out in the first place, then. Was the whole rest of the last 11 months that awful too?” 

“No…” Harrington frowns and that kicked puppy look flashes across his face, darkening the spark of hope that had just flickered in it before. “Well, maybe, I don’t know. I hope not.” 

“Great,” Eddie sighs, tired and sarcastic. He stares up at the ceiling where the gnarled ghost of Chrissy’s corpse still haunts his vision. “Can’t wait to remember more.” 

“I’m sorry,” Harrington says quietly. A heavy sadness runs thick in his voice again, same way he’d spoken when he first learned of Eddie’s amnesia. He squeezes Eddie’s hand once and then lets go. 

So much for always, Eddie thinks dimly. His hand feels cold now, naked and untethered without the solid pressure of Steve’s fingers curled around it. 

“You should try to go back to sleep,” Harrington tells him. The mattress shifts, the springs creak, as he rises from where he’d been perched at the edge of the bed. In the empty space he leaves behind, Eddie only feels even more untethered. 

A sharp rush of panic grips him at the thought of being left here alone in the dark with the twisting shadows and afterimages of his nightmare. “Wait, Steve,” Eddie calls out immediately, before Harrington can even begin to turn away from him. “Will you stay?” 

“Yeah.” Harrington nods, murmurs, “I’ll stay.” 

~

So Steve stays. He stays and he sits in the stiff chair by Eddie’s bed, and he spirals. Of course he spirals, in the silence, in the dark. He can’t seem to do anything else in Eddie’s presence lately but let his mind spin around in circles ‘til it breaks. 

Was the whole rest of the last 11 months that awful too? Eddie’s previous question is the catalyst of his spiral this time, the words that are currently echoing in the whirlpool of Steve’s consciousness, because he hadn’t thought of that before. He has already wallowed in the idea that he was something so unimportant he was easy to erase, but Steve hadn’t yet considered the possibility that he was something so horrible he needed to be erased. It makes sense, though, doesn’t it? The nurse did say Eddie’s amnesia was in part due to psychological trauma, and his memories do end just before he and Steve properly met. Was being with Steve so awful Eddie’s mind lumped it in with all the other recent traumas and just had to wipe it away? 

An ugly guilt twists beneath his skin, like a deep rot running black in his veins. Steve curls his hand into a fist in his lap, digs his fingernails into his palm as if the sharp bites of pain will help release what is dark and decayed inside of him. As if it will choke the voice in the hollow behind his heart that now tells him he deserved to lose Eddie’s love, or that maybe he never truly had it in the first place.

And, see, Steve knows he’s spiraling. He knows his brain has just tripped down some bullshit rabbit hole of self-deprecation and that really his despairing conclusions are not in any way rooted in reality. He knows Eddie loved him. He knows Eddie’s amnesia is not his own fault nor is it a reflection on him. He knows it’s got nothing to fucking do with him. Yet nonetheless, his mind continues to tumble downwards on a quest to prove the opposite. The rot still festers; the hollow still whispers.

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie’s soft-spoken words eventually cut through the quiet and shake Steve from his lamenting thoughts. 

He sits forward. “Yeah?” 

“I can’t sleep,” Eddie says. “Do you, uh- sorry, could you…maybe hold my hand again?” His voice is small like he’s asking for something embarrassing, and his hesitancy kind of breaks Steve’s heart. “Just until I fall back asleep. It just- it makes me feel safer.” 

“Yeah, of course.” Steve scoots his chair closer to the bed and gently takes hold of Eddie’s hand again. 

Eddie sighs, a heavy exhale of relief, his body beginning to relax almost immediately. He squeezes Steve’s hand. “Thanks,” he mumbles. 

“Anytime,” Steve whispers in response. Always, forever, anything; because I love you, want you, need you, miss you. He swallows down the emotion that rises in his chest. Another spiral threatens to drown his mind again and he fights that off too, tries not to think about everything that fucking hurts. 

He focuses on the familiar feeling of Eddie’s hand in his (it’s bittersweet; he’s not thinking about it), on watching the steady rise and fall of Eddie’s chest as he slips back into a more peaceful sleep (he wants to kiss his forehead, tuck him in like a child; he’s not thinking about it).

Steve leaves first thing in the morning. The second Wayne walks in and Eddie now has someone else there to watch over him, Steve tells the older man briefly about Eddie’s nightmare and then he’s out the door before Eddie even wakes up, and he doesn’t return that day. 

He can convince himself, illogically, that it’s better for Eddie if he stays away - that Steve’s spiral was right and he’d only make Eddie uncomfortable in the daylight; the less he’s around, the less the rot inside of him can poison Eddie too. But also it’s selfish. Mostly it’s selfish. Because as much as Steve craves to be near him, it hurts far more to be around him and not be seen, not be known, not be loved. The ache of missing him when they’re apart is so much easier to bear than the ache of missing him when he’s right in front of him.

Still, Steve does come back that night. He doesn’t want Eddie to be alone, and with Wayne working graveyard shifts and everyone else having parents to answer to, Steve is the only one left who’s both willing and able to sit with him through the night. He has a feeling, just a feeling, same as he’d had the night before, that Eddie might need him again. Well- maybe not him specifically, but just someone, anyone, to comfort him in the dark, and Steve can be that someone. And maybe that’s selfish too, because it feels good, eases the ache a bit, to be the one to help Eddie, to take care of him. If Steve cannot be loved then he will settle for being needed.

Good for them both, then, that Eddie does end up needing Steve that night. Eddie jolts awake from another nightmare memory - this one about being chased onto the lake by Jason Carver and watching another body float above the water and be crumpled and killed by Vecna - and Steve is there once more to hold his hand and soothe him back to sleep.

And then, again, Steve is gone the next morning, back the next night. Such is the pattern he’s fallen into, the selfish, stupid pattern: gone when he cannot feel loved, back when he can feel needed. 

Tonight is the worst nightmare yet. Steve can tell it’s bad even before Eddie wakes. The heart monitor begins to beep more rapidly, Eddie whimpers and twitches in his sleep. Steve grabs Eddie’s hand and tries to ease the nightmare before it worsens, though to no avail. 

Eddie doesn’t wake up screaming this time, but choking and crying, rasping through hyperventilating breaths fragmented nonsense about bats and pain and death. He doesn’t seem to be completely aware or lucid right now, still stuck in his nightmare where he’s dying and he’s scared, so scared. 

“Shh, Eddie, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Steve can’t stand to see him like this. Holding his hand isn’t enough. “C’mere,” he murmurs. “You’re alright.” He doesn’t even think, just climbs onto the bed with him and very very carefully, very very gently, sits them both up and pulls Eddie onto his chest, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. “You’re alright,” Steve continues to whisper softly, lips brushing against Eddie’s hair. “Just breathe, baby, it’s okay.” (The pet name just slips out; neither of them notice.)

Eddie clutches Steve’s arms, leans back against his chest and tucks his face into the curve of Steve’s neck. He’s trembling, breath still rapid and panicked, not yet free of the waking dream he’s trapped in. “I died- I’m dead- I was dead,” Eddie keeps babbling in shaky, sobbing gasps. “It hurts- and I died. I don’t- I don’t wanna die- I don’t-” 

“You’re not dying, Eddie, you’re not. You’re okay,” Steve reassures him. “You’re alive.” He gently pries one of Eddie’s hands off his arm and guides it to the boy’s chest, covering his hand with his own as he presses it over Eddie’s heart to give proof to his words. “Do you feel that? You’re alive, you’re so alive.” 

Eddie sucks in a deep breath, lets out a tremulous exhale. “I’m alive,” he repeats, his voice wavering like he’s trying to convince himself of something he doesn’t quite believe. 

“Yeah,” Steve confirms, still holding his hand over Eddie’s slowly steadying heartbeat. “You’re alive.” 

Eddie repeats it again, a little more solidly this time. “Okay,” he breathes out. “Okay, I’m okay.” His hyperventilating has finally begun to ease, his tremors gradually dissipating. He seems to wake up a bit more now, settles back into reality. He rolls his face out of the crook of Steve’s neck and tilts his head up to rest it against his shoulder instead as he looks at him. “Steve,” Eddie says, not like a question or the beginning of a sentence, but more like he’s only just now becoming aware of who’s holding him. 

Steve gives a small hum of confirmation in response. He doesn’t know if Eddie is going to want him to move now, if the way they’re situated is uncomfortable for him or if Eddie is even okay with this situation at all. Steve can’t tell. He should’ve thought of that first. Holding his hand is one thing, but pulling Eddie half on top of him and holding him there is another thing entirely. And Eddie doesn’t know him anymore. Steve wouldn’t blame the guy if he freaked out at coming out of a panic attack to find himself in some strange man’s arms. 

But Eddie just closes his eyes, goes quiet and still for a few long moments, and so Steve stays where he is, assumes Eddie’s trying to go back to sleep. Steve will keep holding him until then. 

“Why are you always here at night?” Eddie asks suddenly, opening his eyes again. So he’s not trying to go back to sleep. 

The question catches Steve off guard, and not just because he hadn’t expected Eddie to speak again. “I, uh, I don’t want you to be alone- you know, with your nightmares.” 

“No, yeah, I know, and I-I’m grateful for that, but,” Eddie clarifies, “I meant, why are you always only here at night? I know you’re around during the day, dropping off one of the kids or Robin or whatever, you just don’t come in. Like- you’ll hold me through a nightmare, but you won’t actually hang out with me and just, like, eat shitty hospital food and watch shitty hospital TV with me. What’s up with that?” Eddie looks up at him. His tone is light enough, but there’s a genuine curiosity in his eyes, and a confusion that borders on hurt. “Thought we were supposed to be friends, Harrington.”

“We are,” Steve says immediately. “We are friends. I just- I didn’t want to force that on you or-or make you uncomfortable or awkward or anything. I know you don’t know me anymore.” 

“Well, you haven’t given me much of a chance to get to know you again,” Eddie states plainly, and that catches Steve off guard too. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to.” 

“Of course I want to,” Eddie mutters. “You’re a decent guy, Stevie. Not how I thought you’d be. Maybe I want you to keep surprising me.” 

The way one corner of his mouth quirks up then, popping a dimple in his cheek, makes Steve’s heart stutter, chest warm with a rush of affection. He can’t help but smile a little too. “Okay.” 

“Okay,” Eddie echoes, smirk stretching into a proper grin now. He taps his fingers where they rest on Steve’s arm. “You better hang out with me tomorrow.” 

“I will,” Steve agrees, because how can he say no to a smile like that? “Promise.” 

~

Satisfied, Eddie closes his eyes and settles back to try and fall asleep again. A lingering fear still runs like an undercurrent beneath his veins though, scared of sleep and dreading the possibility of another nightmare, another memory. He shifts, pulls Steve’s arms a little tighter around him. Eddie never seems to have bad dreams once Steve is holding onto him.

(part four) taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (i have hit my limit on amount of people i can tag in one post; taglist will be continued in replies. please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list. no longer accepting any more additions atm!! also, thank you guys so much for all the support on this so far omg??? this is insane for me and i'm so glad y'all are enjoying my writing <3)

[domxmarvel]

Hellfire club

E

Eddie munson 

Masterlist

Pairing: Eddie munson x Female!Reader

A/N:There’s a description of the reader having a bat tattoo. Also as I said before if this goes well I might add Eddie to my list permanently. (I also might have gotten an idea for a multi part series while writing this)

You were the new girl in town,apparently anyone who wasn't from Hawking was the most interesting person they had ever seen,but you weren't surprised. With how small the town was they were desperate for anyone or anything new. You instantly became the most popular and desired girl in school. You joined cheerleading in hopes of getting to know people and make some actual friends.

At lunch time You walked in alongside the other cheerleaders. As you were walking to your table someone caught your eyes with how loud they were being. A guy with long hair and a shirt that said 'Hellfire club' with a red devil face and various symbols surrounding it,most people wouldn't recognize them but you knew those symbols were,they were dnd symbols. There was something about this guy that was extremely attractive. He was talking about something but you weren't really paying attention to his words. You turned to the other cheerleader. 

"Who is that?" You asked quietly. The cheerleaders followed your gaze.

"Him? That's Eddie Munson. He's the leader of that weird club, Hellfire. Total weirdo. You should stay away from him." You were intrigued by that last part. 

"Why?" Sarah rolled her eyes. 

"Seriously? You're new here, so you probably haven't heard the rumors. Eddie Munson is the town freak. People say he's into satanic rituals and all that. And he's just weird.Only social outcasts join his club." She looked back at you, raising an eyebrow. "You're not considering actually talking to him, are you?"

"Why,not? Does he have a jealous girlfriend I need to watch my back for?" Sarah laughed incredulously. 

"Eddie? As if. The guy's a total loser. You're not gonna have to deal with any jealous girlfriends if you talk to him, that's for sure. But why would you even want to? You're the new girl and the most popular girl in school. You’re way out of his league. Talking to him would be social suicide." You walked a bit further. "Why does everyone dislike him? Did he do something or is it just because he likes dnd?" Sarah shrugged as she continued walking. 

"Bit of both, I guess. There are rumors he's involved in drug dealing and stuff. But mainly, people just think he's creepy and weird for being into DnD and all that 'occult' stuff. They think it's Satanic or something."

"What's stupid is people thinking dnd is connected to the devil" You laughed. "I played it for years and I can tell you there were no demons or devils involved" Another girl, Kate, joined as you sat down. 

"I honestly can't imagine someone like you playing a game like that. Isn't it... nerdy and stuff?"

"Everyone I knew played it back home. I'm guessing there's no other groups in this town" Sarah shook her head. 

"Not that I know of" Kate shuddered comically.

"Ugh, I wouldn't go near that club if you paid me. Bunch of losers sitting around, pretending to be elves or something." The rest of the table erupted in laughter. 

"Who's their DM?" You asked,they all gave you a confused look they probably had no idea what that meant. "The DM the dungeon master" You explained and they still looked confused,clearly that explanation didn't help much. "Clearly only one person can give me a proper answer"

"Are you saying you're gonna go talk to Eddie Munson?"

"None of you can answer this question,and I highly doubt anyone other than him can. "I'm gonna go talk to him" The cheerleaders gasped, their eyes wide with shock. Sarah looked horrified.

"What? You're seriously gonna talk to Eddie Munson? Are you insane? You're the new girl and the most popular girl in school. You can't just walk up to him." Kate chimed in.

"Yeah,He's a complete and total outcast. It would ruin your reputation!"

"We're just talking,it not that big of a deal"

"It is a big deal.Eddie Munson is a social outcast, and hanging out with him will make everyone think you're a weirdo too."

"She's right. Think of your reputation, the other people in school will make fun of you, and it will mess up your spot on the cheer team." You wouldn't mind losing out on cheer practice,it was exhausting and you'd much rather be playing dnd. You walked over to his table and directly up to him,sitting on the table with your feet hovering just above the ground. 

Eddie had been absorbed in conversation with his friends Dustin, Mike, and Lucas, completely unaware of your approach. He looked taken aback. His friends also looked baffled, their eyes darting between you and Eddie. Eddie recovered quickly, a sly smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Well, well, didn't expect to see the queen of Hawkins High here in our little corner."

"Which one of you is the DM?" Eddie chuckled.

"That would be me, sweetheart. I'm the dungeon master for Hellfire."

"Got place for one more?" Eddie raised an eyebrow.

"You want to join the Hellfire Club? Are you sure you're not lost, Princess, or walking into the wrong table by accident?"

"I know exactly where I am,pretty boy. Now answer the question" Eddie's smirk widened.

"Damn, princess's got a mouth on her. Alright, I'll indulge you." He leaned back. "Sure, we've got room for one more. But it's not all just games and fun. You gotta be cool with the freaky stuff, the weird stuff. Is a pretty girl like you ready for that?"

"How long have you been playing,Munson?"

"Damn, asking all the important questions, aren't you? I've been playing D&D for two and a half years. Been leading the Hellfire Club just as long." You smirk.

"I've been playing for six years" Eddie's arrogant smirk faded away, replaced with shock. His eyes widened.

"Wait, what? Six years?"

"I guess it's still pretty new around here"

"Yeah, well, we might've gotten a late start, but it's not about how long we've been playing, princess. It's about how good we are at it!" Lucas and Dustin couldn't help but chuckle at Eddie's defensive tone.

"Darling,I've been playing every night for six years."

"How do we know you're not just making it up to impress us?"

"Let me join a campaign and I'll show you" Eddie's smirk returned, a glint of challenge in his eyes.

"All right, princess. You wanna prove it? How about after school,show us what you're made of at my place? My uncle's working late, so we'll have the trailer to ourselves."

"Sure,I'll see you later"

Several hours later, you found yourself outside Eddie's trailer. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Moments later, Eddie opened the door, his smirk still present on his face. 

"Well, well, look who it is. Come on in, Princess." He gestured for you to come inside, and as you stepped into the trailer. Eddie led you into his living room, where the D&D game setup was already prepared on the table. He pulled out a chair for you, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he sat across from you. The other Hellfire Club members, Lucas, Dustin, and Mike, were already present and eagerly waiting. You put your character sheet on the table,explaining your character,a level 20 rogue specializing in stealth and lock picking along with magic abilities. They seemed impressed by your character.

"Damn, you ain't messing around, princess" Lucas nodded in agreement, 

"And a rogue. That's gotta come in handy for all sorts of surprises that Eddie throws at us, right, Eddie?" Eddie chuckled, trying to hide his surprise at your skills. "Yeah, yeah, impressive character, I'll give you that. Let's see how she holds up in the game.”

"So what are you waiting for,start us off Eddie"

"Alright, brace yourselves. As you enter the musty, dimly lit cavern, you notice an eerie silence that sends chills down your spine. Suddenly, a low, guttural growl emits from deep within the shadows, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end." The boys looked at each other, already feeling the thrill of beginning a new campaign. You thought for a moment. "Perception check" you said,holding out your hand so he could give you a die to roll.He handed you a 20-sided die.

"Let's see what you roll." You rolled,for your plan to work anything above a five would be perfect. "Well, I'll be damned. A 15. You're more perceptive than we expected, princess.Your character's sharp senses might prove useful in this cave. It seems your rogue is ready to prove her worth."

"Her name is blood rose" you added,"Now is there a smell of anything flammable?" Eddie chuckled, playing along with your quick thinking. 

"Ah, Blood Rose, quite a fitting name for a stealthy rogue. There's a faint smell of something flammable in the cavern. It's faint, but discernible."

"Alright I have a plan,but we're gonna need a protective spell,a strong one" Eddie raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your plan. 

"A protective spell, huh? That sounds serious. Mind sharing what you have in mind?"

"You'll find out" you turned to the boys "Mike you have a shield spell,right?" He was playing a mage after all,he had to have one.

"Yeah, I do! I have the 'Shield' spell prepared." You handed Mike the die so he could roll.

"Alright, let's see how strong that shield spell is." The die came to a stop, showing a 19.

"Perfect" you grabbed the die once more "Now that we're very protected I cast fire ring" You rolled everyone had their eyes glued to the dice. The die's roll felt like an eternity, before it finally stopped, landing on a 14.

"Well, it's not a critical success, but it's a respectable roll. Your fire ring spell should definitely pack a punch, though."

"My fire ring gets affected by flammable materials and gas,so it spreads throughout the cave" you corrected him. "The flammable materials that I asked about earlier,remember. It seemed like a stupid question at first but I had this whole thing planned" Eddie's eyes widened as he realized the extent of your plan.

"Wait, hold up. So when you asked about flammable materials earlier, you were actually plotting to use your fire ring spell in combination with them? That's why you needed the protective shield spell from Mike first, to keep you safe.Damn,princess."

You bowed dramatically,laughing. 

"Why,thank you" The boys chuckled along with you, amused by your comedic bow.

"Alright, alright, princess. No need to be so dramatic. Though I'll admit, that was a pretty impressive plan you've got going on here." Mike spoke up, a hint of surprise in his voice. "Yeah, you really planned all this out. Using your fire ring spell with the flammable materials? That's some next-level thinking."

"Told you,I've been playing for years. Alright,let's move deeper into the cave"

Four hours later It was now around 8pm,the campaign was half over and you were tired. Eddie noticed that you looked a bit tired.

"You doing alright there, princess? Need a break?"

"I think we should call it a night,my parents will lose their shit if I don't get back home soon"

“Yeah, it's probably best to end the session here then. Wouldn't want your folks to get mad, princess."

"Wait, are you walking home in the dark? Alone? It's not safe out there, especially for a girl." Mike spoke up,making you look at him.

"You're good,kids but I think you should get back home quickly. Your parents are probably more worried about you guys" They rushed out once they realized how right you were,saying goodbye quickly before rushing out. Leaving you with Eddie. Who chuckled softly as the boys hastily excused themselves and dashed out of the trailer.

"Looks like you gave them a reality check there, princess." He looked at you with a hint of concern. "Now that they're gone, you really intend on walking home alone at night? It's not the safest option, y'know."

"Then what do you suggest?" You chuckled "I'm not staying overnight,my parents would kill me"

"Well, I could offer you a ride home if you want."

"I'd appreciate that,if it's not to much of a burden to you"

"It's no trouble at all princess. I don't mind giving you a ride home. It'll be safer for you, and it'll give me peace of mind knowing you got home safely." He grabbed his keys. You followed him outside and into his van. 

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, princess. Ask away"

"Why does everyone in this town think you're a 'freak'? Just because you play dnd?" He chuckled.

"Ah, well, princess, it's not just about D&D. I've always been a bit of an outcast. You know the long hair, the tattoos, and my unconventional style. I don't fit in with the cookie-cutter mold of what's considered 'normal' around here." He paused, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

"I like your look" You said quickly, covering it with "So when do I get one of those shirts?"

"Ah, so you like my style, huh princess? Good to know." He chuckled again, clearly enjoying your praise. "As for the shirt, princess, I might just have to hook you up with one of those."

"So what tattoos?" You asked,you hadn't seen any of them other than the bats on his arm.

"Interested in my ink, are we, princess? Well, I've got a few." He shifted slightly and gestured to his chest, showing you a tattoo on his upper chest.

"This one's a skull, princess. It's like a little secret treasure, hidden under my shirt."

"You know it's kinda funny that you have bats" You pulled up your sleeve to show off your bat tattoo,it was more detailed the bats wings wrapped around your wrist like a bracelet. The bat was textured to look fluffy and its face was clear,shaded wings that looked almost real.

"Well, well, princess. It seems like we've got something in common. That's a pretty impressive tattoo you've got there. It’s impressive." He glanced at your tattoo, admiring the way the bat's wings wrapped around your wrist like a bracelet. "Looks like we both share a fondness for bats"

"I guess so"

"Is that your only tattoo or do you have more hidden surprises?"

"If you're lucky,you'll find out" You smirked.

“Careful now, I might just take you up on that"

Your conversation was cut short when you arrived at your house. "Looks like we're here, princess."

"I'll see you tomorrow,that is if I don't get grounded"

"Until tomorrow, princess."

[nicoline1998enilocin]

When I'm with you, I feel like I'm home

PAIRING ⇒ Girlfriend!Natasha Romanoff x Girlfriend!Florist!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT ⇒ 1.5K

SUMMARY ⇒ Getting married is something Natasha has not even considered until she met you and fell head over heels in love. Now, it's all she can think about; she wants nothing more than to call you her wife.

RATING ⇒ Teen (T)

WARNINGS/TAGS ⇒ Established relationship ~ Girlfriends, use of pet name (Printsessa, Detka), tooth-rotting fluff.

A/N ⇒ This one-shot is my first attempt at writing for my favorite Russian spy and assassin, Natasha Romanoff! A part of this story is based on this Instagram reel, which is the perfect opportunity to put it to use. I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this; you're an angel 💜

EVENTS Masterlist ⇒ @fluffbruary ⇒ Engagement Masterlist ⇒ @anyfandomaubingo ⇒ Florist!Reader Masterlist ⇒ @lgbtqbingo ⇒ Free space

Banners: Yours truly ⇒ Divider: @firefly-graphics ⇒ GIF: Source

Main Masterlist ⇒ Natasha Romanoff Masterlist

The day you met Natasha is engraved into your memory as one of the happiest days in your life because even though you didn't know it then, she would become a more significant part of your life than you could have imagined.

It's a slow day in your flower shop, but it's nice to take a break from the rush you always have during summer and early fall - also known as peak wedding season. There are still weddings throughout the rest of the year where you will be providing the flowers, and you have an appointment today for one of those.

A few fresh bouquets are now proudly standing in the front of the store, waiting to be picked up and gifted or put in a vase and be the center of attention in every room they'll be standing in. There's still a little time before your appointment, so you get a binder with different photos ready, sweep the floor, and tidy up the rest of the store.

Not much later, the tiny bell above your door rings, and you turn your head to see a long, broad-shouldered blonde man and a small but equally strong-looking woman next to him. You instantly recognize them as Captain Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, and Natasha Romanoff, aka Black Widow—two of the original six Avengers.

''Hi, and welcome to Blooming Garden!'' you say in a cheery voice as you put the broom to the side, ready to greet them properly for their appointment. As you approach them, you take in Natasha's slender form, and you can't help but feel a warmth coursing through your veins and settling on your cheeks as you shake Natasha's hand and introduce yourself.

Her eyes roam over your body, admiring the dress you're wearing. It is a very flattering dress, perfectly accentuating every curve of your body. When she looks at your face, she can't help but feel like she's looking at an angel, as your soft features instantly make her feel like she came home. Your soft, pink lips give a graceful smile before you lead the way for the appointment, which is over too soon for her liking.

Steve paid the down payment for the flowers they had chosen, and after one last goodbye, they walked out of the store, leaving you behind with a bit of an empty feeling in your chest, like something was missing. It turns out Natasha had the same feeling, too, and not long after, the little bell rang again, and she walked back in, this time with her number written on a small piece of paper.

''If you want to go out for coffee sometime, you can text me on this number,'' she says before quickly running out the door again and on her way to her emergency mission. She couldn't leave without leaving a piece of herself behind, afraid she would never see you again if she didn't go back. Ultimately, she's thrilled she did indeed go back.

That same evening, you sent her a text, and even though it took a few days for her to reply, your heart skipped a beat when you saw her name pop up on your phone screen. You met for coffee and even went on a few more dates after that until you couldn't take it anymore, and you asked her to be your girlfriend.

You're visiting Natasha at the Avengers Compound today, and even though all the Avengers knew you and Natasha were friends, they didn't realize just how close you two were. They accidentally walked in on both of you as you asked her to be your girlfriend.

She's seated on the couch, her back against the plush cushions of the large piece of furniture, and you're straddling her lap with both your knees on either side of her legs. Her fiery red hair hangs loosely around her head, and you can't stop running your hands through the soft locks. Her hands are placed on your waist as she occassionally tickles you, pulling a fit of giggles from your chest that she will never get enough of.

''Nat, stop! I can't ask you to be my girlfriend if you keep tickling me!'' you say between giggles, and when you notice her eyes going wide, you instantly realize what happened.

''A-Are you- I mean, you want to be my girlfriend?'' Natasha asks, a hint of insecurity laced in the way she phrases the question. Your face drops at her words, and you guide your hands to cup her cheeks, looking straight into her eyes as you carefully express your following words.

''Yes, I do want to be your girlfriend, more than I've ever wanted anything in my entire life. Being with you makes me feel like I can be myself, and life is just a little brighter with you around. Whether we're hanging out together in my flower shop or doing silly things anywhere else, there's no one I'd rather want to do that with than you, Nat. So, what do you say? Will you make me the happiest woman in the world and be my girlfriend?''

She looks at you with pure love and adoration in her eyes, and she nods her head before leaning in to capture your lips in a soft, gentle kiss that has both your hearts soaring. At that time, you didn't realize all the other Avengers had an entire show because they were curious about the giggling from the living room not long ago.

They all start clapping and whooping in excitement, and you pull away before burying your face in Natasha's neck, a broad smile adorning your face. From that moment on, you two are practically inseparable, and being away from her during her missions is always a challenge, but the reunion is worth it every single time.

Nearly four years later, Natasha plans to take the next step in your relationship. She never thought about getting married, but you have shifted something inside her that has her wanting to call you her wife. Whereas she previously never cared about anyone that deeply, you have shown her a love she never even thought existed, and she wants to bring your passion to the next level.

And so, after a few long months of planning, the day has finally arrived. The engagement ring is in the pocket of her jeans as you're taking a stroll over the beach in Florida, where you're currently for a weekend getaway together. Your fingers are laced together, and your sundress flows in the soft breeze from the ocean.

''Printsessa, can I talk to you about something?'' Natasha asks as she stops you in your tracks before going to stand in front of you. The sunset casts a beautiful light over both of you, and Natasha's hair has a fiery glow, making her look even more stunning than usual.

''Of course, is something wrong?'' you ask with furrowed brows, but she kisses your lips softly to calm your mind before starting off her story.

''Some souls instantly click. Words can't quite explain whether you're lovers, best friends, soulmates, or something so special. You accept this person for everything they are, and they would never let you be anything other than your beautiful, imperfect self. These are the souls you encounter and know in the first moment that you were supposed to cross paths,'' Natasha starts, and there are already tears welling in your eyes as you realize what's happening.

"Your presence makes me feel safe and calm like I am home whenever I'm with you. You're undoubtedly the most special I've had the privilege to love - no distance, time, or person could come between our bond. Your kindness, softness, sincerity, and unconditional love make me feel better because life is better with you in it. Your soul is my happy place, comfort, sunshine, and everything, and I could not imagine life without you in it. And because of that, I want to ask you something.''

Natasha lets go of your hands before wiping away some of her tears, sinking on one knee after getting the ring out of her pocket. The sunset casting an angelic glow over you makes the moment perfect.

''Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest soul in the universe and become my wife?''

''Yes, Detka, I will marry you!'' you exclaim, and when the ring is put on your finger, she jumps up and wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a breathtaking kiss that has your heart going a mile a minute from pure excitement.

When she pulls away, the realization sinks in, and the happy tears can't stop flowing down your cheeks. You're going to marry the love of your life, and you can't wait for the entire world to know how much you love each other. Life was great before you met Natasha, but this moment completes it.

You both continue your walk down the beach, walking into the sunset together. Today marks the start of the rest of your lives together, and you can't wait to see what life will bring your way.

[loviatarsluv-old]

Request!

I posted details here, it’s for Gale!

https://www.tumblr.com/cherifrog/739699979425333248/anyone-else-interested-in-like-a-super-jealous

YUHHHHH now THIS is what im talkin about!!!!!!!

*cracks knuckles* lets get this party started shall we

(I am so sorry to be answering this literally a million years too late I’ve redone and rewritten this prompt like 100000 times but I finally like this version!!! so here we go!!!)

Gale x AFAB f!tav

rating: oh boy this one is certainly rated M for mature

CW: smut, inappropriate use of mage hand, rough sex, PiV, oral, gale being jealous and going absolutely FERAL

word count: 5.4k

let’s get itttt

If looks could kill, surely, Astarion would have been long dead— well, even more so— by now. 

Gale was never exactly fond of the pale elf from the start, and he was well aware the feeling was likely incredibly mutual— but gods, he swore he was beginning to actually hate him. 

At least, he hated the way he looked at her. The way he leered at her. The way he purred her name with that practiced and over-rehearsed seductive charm of his. The way he would lock piercing crimson eyes with Gale’s blazing umber ones as he cozied up to her at the fire with that deviant and knowing smirk on his stupid pointy face. The way she would smile at him the warmest, kindest, most hopelessly and adorably oblivious smile in response to the charlatan’s blatant advances. 

Maybe he did hate him, upon further reflection. If only for the last reason alone. 

Astarion would find any way to touch her and be able get away with it— his hand lingering on the small of her back as he passed her, touching her shoulder to get her attention, brushing hair out of her face when stray pieces fell over her eyes— all things that seemed innocent enough until you realized who was doing them and the devious smirk on his face when his gaze would meet that of the wizard that was surely plotting his second untimely demise. 

Though, he could hardly blame him. 

And Gale never got upset with her, of course, he knew it wasn’t her fault and honestly, he truly didn’t blame Astarion for wanting her— gods, who could possibly resist her? 

Certainly not Gale, not even if he tried; and he had tried, to no avail. Yet that didn’t quell his frustration toward the silver haired and equally silver tongued vampire for attempting to swoop in on what was likely the first real chance at mortal love he’d had in a very long time.

He’d spent the early days in their adventure together absolutely beside himself with how taken he was by her nearly instantly. He felt like a smitten schoolboy all over again when he thought about the feeling of her soft but strong hands gripping his as she pulled him from the stone by the nautiloid crash with most impressive ease, the way she looked at him with wonder and curiosity, and even a flicker of something else that he recognized as attraction because he imagined it was mirrored in his own face at the sight of her. 

It was then only worsened by the night that they channeled the weave together and the kiss she’d pictured them sharing— the way their limbs tangled and their lips pressed together softly, then passionately and fervently. Her fingers wrapped in his chestnut tresses and his hands gripping the fabric at her waist— that image will be burnt into the fabric of his mind forevermore, he’s certain. 

Not to mention, the way her pupils dilated and her cheeks flared and flushed a heavenly shade of pink at the way he praised her as she successfully mimicked the incantation and his motions. It was enough to have him panting and attempting to tame the straining erection in his trousers when he retired to his tent that night. 

He thought he’d mastered the art of managing to keep such thoughts like that at bay during his time of isolation as he tried to keep the orb sated and calm and very nonexplosive— but that was before her, after all.

It was pathetically easy at the time, considering his amount of interaction with other humans had gone from healthy to nonexistent entirely so he didn’t have much to think about aside from himself; perhaps when he was truly desperate or feeling especially lonely, he’d think about Mystra and the nights he’d spent in Elysium with her (literally and metaphorically). 

But now, any attempts to be chaste or think chaste thoughts were moot in her presence.

Especially after the night they shared under the stars in the wilderness of the Shadow Cursed Lands.

They’d hardly been able to go more than a few hours without some kind of touch in the days following that perfect evening— whether it be a hand on her lower back, or holding one of her much smaller hands in his as he helped her scale a wall or hop across a boulder that she was more than capable of managing herself. A stolen kiss when no one was looking. Or, if they were lucky, they could steal a few moments alone in some ruined and crumbling crypt where he could bury himself between her thighs and send a silent thank you to whatever gods had a hand in creating a creature as divine as her. 

That being said, they hadn’t been entirely discreet about their affections— not that they really wanted to be. Gale certainly had no reservations about making it known that he was claiming her for himself, despite his gentlemanly nature chastising him for it and reminding himself she was a person, not a prize to be claimed. 

He would never say that she was, anyway, do not mistake it— being raised solely by a woman such as the inimitable Morena Dekarios had beaten into his core that women were not to be claimed or to be owned but to be cherished and treated as your equal. He would never claim otherwise, he couldn’t. 

On the other hand, he was also acutely aware that his were not the only set of eyes that wistfully tracked her every move and every breath throughout the day within their strange band of wayward souls, and a very base part of him needed to send the clearest message he could muster without flat out verbally declaring that she was his. 

It was very unlike him, this sort of possessive and primal nature, but he couldn’t deny that a small fraction of himself that he usually shoved into the deepest recesses of his being loved it for that fact. It was a part of him reserved only for her, as she was the only one who’d ever been able to coax it out of him. 

And thus, he felt absolved of any guilt about the way he glared daggers at the side of Astarion’s head and pictured hurling a fire bolt at the undead man as he spoke to her in hushed tones across camp. 

At least he knew it wouldn’t kill him. Although, he’d probably slit Gale’s throat for singing his singlet in return. 

It was enough to keep the heat in his palm at bay for the time being. 

He tried to discreetly move close enough to hear their conversation, moving toward Wyll’s tent that happened to be just a few paces away from Astarion’s and disguising his intentions as simply having a chat over a glass of wine with the warlock. 

Wyll’s eyes light up as the wizard approaches, shooting him a dashing and very princely smile that he was certain had made many a maiden swoon in his younger years as the duke’s son, galavanting through ballrooms and dragging said maidens to the dance floor after either one too many glasses of brandy or none at all.  

“Gale, my friend! Fancy a glass of wine?” He kindly proposed, tilting the glass in his hand in Gale’s direction. 

Gale offers an almost genuine smile, nodding. “Thank you, Wyll. I think a hearty glass of wine is just what I need at the moment,” he laments with a sigh. 

Wyll disappears for only a moment before returning with a glass and wine bottle in hand. “That bad, huh?” 

Gale gratefully takes the silver glass and holds it out for Wyll to pour the rest of the Amnan Liquer he’d been holding onto since their escapades at the former Rosymorn Monastery turned Githyanki Crèche. 

He turns his body just enough to keep both his lover and the offending vampire in his line of sight, attempting to tune into their conversation and realizing that he can faintly hear the melodic hum of her voice, as well as the silky tones of Astarion’s. 

Firebolt. No, no. 

Wyll’s eyes dart between Gale, then Tav, then Astarion, his eyebrow raising. “Astarion certainly doesn’t lack in the gall department, I’ll give him that.” 

Gale huffs a bitter laugh. “Can’t fault him. As much as I want to.” 

Wyll gently bumps his shoulder into Gale’s with a reassuring smile. “One can’t always be a gentleman, Gale. I respect your restraint, but if I were you, even I would be cutting in on whatever it is that he’s doing with her. Love the fellow, but I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.” 

Gale goes silent, giving himself a moment to try to catch any of what was being said between them, only hearing the sound of her laughter intermingling with Astarion’s— and suddenly Wyll’s advice had become all the more tempting to follow. 

I could just go over there, he thinks. ‘Assert my dominance’ the old fashioned way. Or…

A wickedly devious idea flutters across his mind, and a smirk forms on his lips. Before he can realize it and stop it, Wyll’s tadpole connects to his, and Wyll snorts as he sees what debauchery Gale’s brain had concocted. 

“She’d have your arse in a second,” he jokingly warns. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

Gale wanted to listen to reason (Wyll Ravengard being the voice of reason, in this instance) and just do the diplomatic thing as he always did— but a part of him wanted to make a show of it all. To show her as well as everyone else the lengths he’d go to for her. 

He whispers a simple cantrip and waves his hand, blue light glowing from his palm as he calls for a spectral hand to appear before him. He eyes the mage hand for a moment, waving his fingers and watching it as it mirrors his movements with perfect accuracy. A rush of excitement passes through him as he ponders the possibilities, but debates for a moment whether he should— only to hear the lovely melody that was her laughter once again and his decision was sealed. 

He commands the hand to become invisible, the only way for him to tell it was still there was the very faint outline of it that you could only notice if you had been looking for it. He flicks his hand in her direction, commanding it to fly toward her. 

“Your funeral,” Wyll chuckles, taking a long sip from his chalice, eyebrows raised. 

The hand obliges, quickly floating to her but stopping just beside her. She shivers slightly as it grazes her bare shoulder, her head snapping in the direction of the sudden sensation. 

Gale freezes for a moment, praying she doesn’t catch on too soon. When she finally turns her attention back to Astarion, he relaxes, then motions for the hand to gently brush her hair over her other shoulder, causing her to jump and look again, her eyes narrowed as she scans the area. Her gaze lands on Gale, and he tries to remain composed but cannot hide the pleased smirk on his face. She furrows her brows, a look of confusion and suspicion on her face as she turns away once again. She still hadn’t caught on just yet, much to Gale’s delight. 

He continues once again, now commanding the hand to gently caress the back of her neck, the cool sensation of its spectral palm causing goosebumps to rise and her hair to stand on end. She sucks in a sharp breath, causing Astarion’s eyes to snap up to her.

“Everything alright, dear?” He hears Astarion ask, his signature shit-eating grin still on his lips. 

She nods, clearing her throat. “Mhm, sorry, I just— ah, got a bit chilly.” 

He cocks a brow at her. “I would offer to warm you, but I don’t think that I am qualified for the task,” he jokes, causing Gale’s jaw to clench. 

Firebolt. Ooh, better yet, Fireball. Ice knife. Lightning bolt, perhaps?

She laughs, then gasps once again as the hand has now relocated to the front of her, gently tracing the outline of her collar bone. It then follows the curve of the top of her breast, settling between her cleavage for a moment before continuing down further and further, grazing her abdomen before stopping just at the waistline of her breeches. 

“Gods, I shouldn’t be watching this,” Wyll grunts, shaking his head and allowing his gaze to drop to the ground.

She turns and shoots a piercing look at Gale, now fully aware of what was happening. He winks at her, before commanding the hand to continue its journey down her body, ghosting over the spot between her thighs. She squeezes her legs shut tight, in an attempt to quell the heat pooling low in her core despite her rising frustration toward Gale and her embarrassment. 

“Darling, do you need a blanket? Perhaps we could move into my te—”

“I’m fine,” She blurts, loud enough so that she knows Gale hears her, as she refuses to give in to his childish behavior. “What were you saying?” 

As Astarion continues whatever riveting story he’d been telling before she distracted him, she shoots Gale one last pathetic glance, not sure whether she was begging him to stop or keep going. He smirks, taking her pleading eyes as his queue to continue, moving the mage hand southward and grazing her blazing hot center. 

She sucks in another breath, this time a lot quieter, her head falling back that she attempts to play off as if she were simply looking up at the stars. 

Astarion’s head shoots up to look at her again, almost as if he were beginning to get frustrated.

“S-stars are bright tonight,” She stammers, eliciting a chuckle from Gale. He was enjoying this far too much to stop now. 

He wills the hand to press two fingers down right where he knows her clit is, reveling in the way her back arches at the sudden touch, right where he knew she loved it. 

Astarion’s eyebrow raises as he eyes her, her face flushed, her hair in disarray and her legs clamped shut tight. He was— unfortunately for her— very good at reading body language, even more specifically hers, and he was beginning to catch on to her predicament. His eyes dart over toward Gale who was not at all subtle with the devious smirk on his face as his hand continued commanding the spell.

“Your wizard is clever, I’ve got to hand it to him.” He smirks, stifling a chuckle. 

Her eyes go wide, the hot blush in her cheeks only increasing. 

“I’m going to kill him.” She hisses through gritted teeth, before twisting and facing Gale, who could not contain the triumphant grin on his face despite her very displeased expression. 

“Do it out where I can watch, won’t you, darling? I’m quite overdue for a good show.” He calls after her, watching her storm toward Gale, shaking his head and chuckling with delight.

Gale dismisses the spell as he spots her making a very angry beeline toward him, then crosses his arms behind his back innocently as she approaches him. 

“I warned you, you cheeky bastard.” Wyll grumbles, watching with anticipation and vaguely hidden amusement as she stomps toward the wizard beside him with murderous intent. 

Gale offers her a smile as she approaches, to which she only offers a grimace.

“Hello, my love. Feeling alright?” He says equally as innocently, in spite of the devilish grin on his face. 

She shakes her head. “Tent. Now.” 

He raises his hands in defense, shit-eating smirk ever persistent. “Your wish is my command, darling.” He draws out the pet name to mimic the way Astarion says it, earning a rather angry eye roll. 

He trails behind her as she continues her warpath toward his tent, his heart racing as he imagines exactly what he plans to do the second he gets her alone— he’d saved those thoughts for after Wyll’s tadpole’s connection broke from his own to spare him the filthy details. 

She ducks into his tent brusquely, the flap slapping closed behind her before he makes his own way in after her. He chuckles at her ire, and the fact that in any other situation he’d be on his knees begging her for forgiveness in response to her irritation toward him— but this time, he planned on using it much to his advantage. Fuel for the fire, so to speak. 

The second he enters the tent, her wild eyes are on him and she’s standing with her arms crossed over her chest which was still heaving, her face still completely flushed. 

“What the hells is wrong with y—” 

Her tirade is cut off by lips roughly crashing onto hers, her words being instantly smothered then swallowed by him and his tongue and the bittersweet taste of wine on his breath. She wants to fight back but finds her efforts moot as she instantly melts into him, allowing him to maneuver her exactly as he wishes. 

Rough but elegant hands grip her waist, pulling her body flush to his, enough for her to feel the erection straining to be freed from his pants against her lower stomach. The heat that had been coiling and pooling low within her had only reignited with a vengeance now, partially fueled by her anger toward him and mostly fueled by her ever present desire for him. 

His hands migrated to palm the swell of her ass, kneading the plush but still firm flesh that always caught his attention even in the worst moments such as the middle of a tense battle— something he almost felt the need to punish her for, even though it wasn’t truly her fault. 

His tongue explores her mouth hungrily as her hands move to begin undoing the buttons of his linen shirt, before one of his hands catches her wrist and holds it, lacing her fingers through his. He breaks the kiss, dark umber irises pooling with pure liquid lust and carnality as they meet her more perplexed ones. 

Leaving her unspoken questions unanswered, he unbuttons her pants with one hand, yanking them down her legs until she takes it upon herself to kick them off and discard them somewhere on the ground within the tent. He tugs at the bottom edge of her shirt, and she wordlessly grants him permission with only a small nod and a raise of her arms to afford him some ease in ripping it over her head and adding to the growing pile of clothes scattered across the floor of the small space. 

She’s lit only by the soft orange glow of the campfire leaking in through the crack of the tent flap that neither of them had bothered to seal, her skin radiant even in the dimness of the night. He drinks in her frame, eyes skimming along every contour of her body, every rounded edge and every sharp one— even the shadow she cast against the back wall of his tent was erotic, all hips and curves and the most heavenly structure. 

As if she’d been lovingly built by Sune’s own gracious hands. 

“Lay down,” he commands, pointing to the bedroll that he’d preemptively fixed and made extra comfortable with several more layers of blankets, pillows, and furs. “And spread your legs for me.” 

She obliges instantly, quickly but gracefully laying atop the nest of cotton and fur and velvet, her hair splaying around her head and framing her like a halo— only serving to make his already painfully stiff cock twitch against the fabric of his pants and a bead of precum leak from the tip. He feared he may not even be able to make it long enough to be inside of her at this rate. 

“That’s my girl,” he almost moans, his voice low and husky and reverent as he drops to his knees before her, moving to kneel between her legs. “My beautiful girl.” 

She blushes and shyly looks away, her bottom lip caught between her teeth to bite back a smile. He leans over her, gently gripping her chin with his fingers and moving her face back to look at him. “Eyes on me, my love. My love.” He drawls, dragging out his words in hopes that they’d have more time to sink into her precious mind that he cherished just as much, if not more than her wholly divine body. 

Gale was all together a typically patient man. He did almost everything meticulously and gracefully. He would spend hours studying a particular topic just to ensure that he’d get it right the very first time. 

Gale as a lover was no different. 

He’d spent hours and even days at this point learning everything he could about her body— every sensitivity, every weak spot, ticklish spot, every scar or freckle or blemish. The things she was insecure or shy about, the things that would send her eyes rolling back into her head. 

He had become a consummate virtuoso at worshiping her body and what granted her the most pleasure possible. He lavished her in it, bathed her in every ounce of bliss he possibly could until she could no longer speak, much less think properly. 

Tonight was no exception— though he was considerably less delicate than was typical for him, as he hungrily lapped at the heat between her thighs as if it contained the last drop of honey on the face of Faerun. He licked and kissed and sucked and drank in every bit of her essence he possibly could, not stopping even after she’d already come just to wring out every last bit of her pleasure for his own selfish need. The selfish need to taste her, to savor her. To devour her. 

He didn’t stop until she was a tangled mess of shaking limbs and clammy skin and teary eyes, and she whimpered his name like a plea. Whether it were a  plea to stop or to keep going was unclear for both of them. 

He lifted his face, his beard and lips drenched in her slick as he licked the remains of her off of his lips and fingers, causing her to clamp her legs together at the sight. He smirks triumphantly, knowing full well that she was nearing being entirely spent and yet she still wanted more. 

“Please,” she whimpered, leaning up (very unsteadily) to finish unbuttoning his shirt, her fingers fumbling with the buttons and the fabric. He relents and allows her to make her best attempt with her trembling fingers before he takes over for her, lifting it over his head and discarding the linen nearby. 

Her finger gently trails from the dark purple mark of the orb on his chest down the hard planes of his torso until she reaches the waistband of his pants, dipping her finger underneath and tugging at it. Her eyes meet his full of intent, and he feels the tadpole in his head stir as she tries to connect to him. 

I need to suck your cock. Please. 

His eyes darken as he looks at her, the image of her perfectly pink lips wrapped around him searing into his mind— whether it being his own thoughts or hers invading his didn’t matter— but he shakes his head, then severs the connection. 

She frowns, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout. He rubs his thumb along the swollen softness of it as he caresses her chin, tilting her head back slightly to get a better view of the elegant column of her neck. He had plans for the perfect and smooth expanse of the area between her jaw and her clavicle that he soon intended to enact. But not yet. 

“Naughty girl,” he chastises her, but not without a devious smirk and a hint of lustful playfulness. 

She whimpers again, sending goosebumps down his arms and the hair on them to raise on end. “Please, Gale. I want to make you feel good, I need to make you feel good,” she stammers, her eyes peering up at his, wanton and needy. 

It was enough to almost oblige her request, but he knew if her mouth came anywhere near his already all too sensitive cock that he’d come apart at the seams instantly, and that just wouldn’t do. 

“And I need to be inside of you,” he retorts, his voice soft but stern. “I need to claim what’s mine.” He nearly growls. 

Gentleman Gale reprimands him in his mind, but is quickly overtaken by Her Gale— the one that only answers to her and belongs solely to her. The one that hoped with everything in him there was also a part of her that was his and only his. 

Her mouth opens to speak, and he half expects her to yell at him and berate him for reducing her to a prize to be claimed— and is pleasantly surprised when she doesn’t. 

“Please. Please come here, please fuck me,” she begs, the rasp in her voice as she does nothing short of absolutely erotic. 

He needs no further instruction, and quickly removes his pants and undergarments, his erection springing free and already slick with his own desire. She eyes it with a hunger that he recognizes and has to ignore before the temptation to fuck her mouth grows any stronger. 

He presses his strong but gentle hand against her chest, slowly pushing her back against the pillows as he moves to position himself at her entrance, her legs wrapping around his hips and urging him forward impatiently. He taps the side of one of her thighs in warning, rubbing the head of his cock across her already soaked folds to further lubricate it and tease her. 

“Eager little thing, aren’t you?” 

She whines, her voice broken as if she truly might cry if she goes another second without him inside her. “Gale.” 

He chuckles darkly, once again pressing the swollen head of his cock at her entrance, slipping in as slowly as he can manage, mustering every bit of strength and willpower he has left not to just bury himself in her as deep as he can. 

“Tell me,” he commands, his voice low and gruff but still needy, almost desperate. 

She connects the dots instantly, knowing exactly what he wanted. What he craved. “I’m yours, Gale. Only yours.” 

She cries out in shock, slight pain, and pure ecstasy as he harshly snaps his hips into hers, his cock burying to the hilt in her velvet heat. 

Home. This felt like home. 

He knew that he probably should have given her more time to adjust to him, and it was something he’d surely feel guilty about later, but Her Gale wanted her to feel it tomorrow. He wanted her to be reminded of this moment as she goes on about her day through the ache between her legs as she walks, constantly reminding her who fucks her like this, who loves her like this. 

“My pretty girl, my perfect girl,” he chants, his words leaving his lips like a litany of prayer as if he were in a temple of worship. He’d always been a man of religion, but this was holier and more divine than anything he’d ever experienced— even sharing a bed with an actual goddess couldn’t compare. 

She throws her head back, her eyes shut tightly and she desperately grips at the pillows around her to ground herself, her neck on full display. He leans down to place wet kisses in a trail from her jaw to her collarbone, biting and sucking in very obvious spots that she’d be hard pressed to be able to cover in the morning. 

She writhes and moans underneath him, one of her hands moving to grip the back of his head and fist the hair at the nape of his neck, the sensation of her fingers tugging at his scalp blending from slight pain into pure pleasure earning a throaty grunt from him that rumbles in his chest. 

He feels her tighten ever so slightly around him, her walls clenching and pulsing in a sort of warning. He continues his pace, driving her closer and closer to the precipice. 

“Gale, I’m gonna—” 

“I know, sweet girl, I know,” he coos, leaning down and pressing his lips to her sweat slicked forehead, then whispering, “come for me, my love.” 

It wasn’t so much a demand as a desperate request, as his need to feel her come on him and to ride out the waves of her pleasure alongside her became almost devastating. 

To urge her on even further, he slipped a hand down and began to rub quick circles around her clit as he pounded into her until she saw stars— it wasn’t long before she completely shattered underneath him, tumbling into free fall off the edge of the best orgasm she’d ever had. 

She cries out a jumbled mess of I love you and I’m yours with his name sprinkled throughout as she reaches the peak and dives off the edge, her hips rocking upward into Gale’s as he continues to fuck her through her orgasm. He feels himself quickly approaching his own finish line, the feeling of her cunt pulsing and hugging his cock tighter and tighter driving him further and further. 

A few more thrusts and he was done for, spilling everything he had in her and grunting her name as he came, the entire fiber of his being ripping apart and repairing itself as he went limp above her, barely having enough strength to brace himself with his hands on either side of her head as he gripped the pillows so that he doesn’t crush her under his weight. 

They both fall silent apart from the sounds of their breathing steadying and slowing to a calm and regular pace, the only other sounds being that of the distant crackling of the fire and the even more distant sounds of their companions still wrapping up for the night and preparing for bed. 

Her eyes flutter open to find his in the dim light of the fire, her hand reaching up to caress his cheek. He sighs and leans into her touch, turning his head to place a kiss to the center of her palm, the coarse hair of his beard scratching her skin and tickling it, making her giggle quietly. 

“I’m still mad at you, you know,” she jokes, causing him to nibble at the skin of her palm playfully. “That wasn’t funny, Gale.” 

He smiles and reaches for a rag to clean her up with. “I had hoped this would serve as an adequate apology.” 

She sucks in a breath as he pulls out and rubs the rag across her still sensitive and throbbing core, her hips bucking upward slightly with some discomfort. “You expected to fuck me into complicity?” 

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest as he finishes cleaning her, then tosses the rag aside and lays beside her, pulling her onto his chest. 

“Not exactly,” he says, earning a disbelieving grimace from her. “I am sorry, for what it’s worth. I just— I don’t think you realize that seeing the way he interacts with you and the way you interact with him is nothing short of agonizing for me.” 

She saw the hurt in his eyes even in the dark— the ache and the gnawing need for reassurance. She understood it all too well, as she’d done the same when the topic of Mystra would get brought up in the earlier days of their relationship. 

“There is no other set of arms I’d rather have wrapped around me right now than yours. There is no other company I’d rather share in the way I share in yours. Don’t you know that?” She asked, shifting so that she’s leaning over him, his big brown eyes resembling those of a puppy being told it was a good boy. 

“I am yours, Gale Dekarios,” she whispers. “Body and soul.” 

Relief and pure elation smoothed out the concern from his features. He pulled her closer to him, until she was mostly on top of him and her head rested on his chest and he could press a long kiss against the top of her head, breathing in her scent and shutting his eyes, both of them drifting into a peaceful slumber. 

[flippinpancakes64]

A few days ago I had a dream, and from that dream I got an idea! The Cullens in their mortal life had a daughter, whom they left when she was about 8 years old due to her transformation, they took care of her and watched her grow from afar, but a few years later she disappears without a trace and although they looked for her they didn't find her, until the Cullen vs Volturi battle happened, they saw her again after many years after giving her up for dead, but on the enemy side. This dream was actually the other way around, Aro had a daughter who disappeared and when he found her it turned out that she had run away with Carlisle 😅 but I know you don't write about the Volturi, so I did it the other way around!!!

The Cullens with their Daughter! Reader

Thank you so much for changing this from the Volturi lol. I’m still in the middle of my Twilight rewatch, but it’s gotten sidetracked with me watching every movie that Hugh Jackman’s ever been in so

And I love this idea it’s so cute!

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

Honestly I cannot imagine a scenario where this prude of a man has a kid

Especially from so long ago when he was still human

So we’re just gonna use our imaginations for this one

Just insert whatever backstory makes sense to you here cause I got nothing

With that out of the way

It’s the day of the fight for Renesmee

He’s standing next to his daughter and Bella, rigid as he waits for the fight to start

Carlisle’s in the middle of the field talking to Aro

Across the field, his eyes lock onto yours

Bright red, but familiar, somehow

Not to mention the reddish hair, the sharp jaw, the nose shape, everything

You have to be related somehow

After the fight diffuses and tension’s resolved, he goes up to you

This close now, he can smell the similarities too

And your mind is instantly filled with memories of him

You remember him too

You decide to go with Edward and the Cullens

You and Renesmee quickly become besties

And Edward does his best to help you acclimate

Alice:

Her past is very fuzzy

She can’t see anything from back then, so it’s very possible that she had a daughter that she just doesn’t remember having

Over the years, she’s caught glimpses of you, but never understood why

They’ve always been quick flashes, never enough to actually give her an idea of who you are

So when she sees you next to the Volturi on that fated day, she recognizes you instantly

And all of the pieces click together

She cheerfully goes up to you after the tension dissolves, chatting like you two aren’t supposed to be enemies

Despite not remembering her, something in your mind clicks with Alice too

You trust her immediately

She takes you home with the Cullens, not caring that the Volturi aren’t too keen on letting you go

She’s so upset that she can’t remember you, that she never tried to find you earlier

But then you tell her that you can’t remember your past either

Your memories start with the Volturi

You got turned because of your relation to Alice, Aro had been hoping that you would manifest the same power that she had

And you did

You both bond over your hazy pasts and love for fashion

And the fact that the Volturi would do anything to get their hands on either of you again

Like mother like daughter I suppose

Jasper:

Unlike some of the others, he knew he had a daughter

Only, he never got to meet her

During his days wandering the south as a soldier, he came across a young woman who he had a one night stand with

He was in town just long enough for her to tell him that she was pregnant

He promised that as soon as the war was over, he would come back to her and help her raise the baby

Only he never got to see the end of the war as a human

Maria got to him first

So he had to watch his daughter grow up from afar

He always felt bad about not being there for her, but he felt worse when he would go for stretches of time without seeing her

One day, you went missing and he never saw you again

Just like that, the last piece of happiness that he had was gone

So imagine his surprise when he pulls up to the scene with Alice, ready to plead Renesmee’s innocence, and he sees you

You look just like how he remembered, only paler and with red eyes

At once, he felt every emotion

Anger at you being turned, happiness at seeing you again, and sadness at seeing you hidden under a Volturi cloak

After the fight, he approaches you and introduces himself

To his surprise, you grab him in the tightest hug he’s ever felt

You go with him willingly

He’s so happy to finally get to know you

Rosalie:

Half of her unhappiness would be gone if she had a kid

Only, she did at one point

She had gotten pregnant when she was 16, and her parents were not happy

They made her hide it, and eventually give it up for adoption

She was devastated

She was young, yes, but she wanted her daughter more than anything

Now, years have gone by, and she still has no clue what happened to her baby girl

She doesn’t know who her parents gave her to, where she ended up moving, or what her name was

She thinks about her all the time and mourns the loss of her baby

But then, she sees her again

A vampire with the Volturi

Blonde hair, red eyes, beauty mark, rbf

It can’t be, but it is

Her beautiful baby girl, subjected to the same torture Rosalie herself lives every day

At this revelation, Rosalie could rip off every single Volturi head in that field, but she holds herself back

When the fight is over and everyone begins to leave, she stops you before you can

And from the look on your face, you can feel the resemblance too

She’s so happy she could start crying

No ifs, ands, or buts, you’re coming home with her

She can’t leave you now that she’s just found you again

Very happy reunion

Emmett:

Pretty simple one here

He got a girl pregnant when he was in high school

He was unsure, but the girl wanted to keep the baby, so he prepared himself to become a father

And then he got mauled by a bear

For the first couple of years, he was so delirious with bloodlust, that he couldn’t even think about the daughter he was leaving behind

It was only when talking with Rosalie one day years down the line that he remembered you

Rosalie was so excited, she immediately started trying to hunt you down

But she couldn’t find you

There were records of you being born, of you attending a local high school, of you beating Emmett’s previous records, but then after you graduated, there was nothing

He felt defeated

And Rosalie was so upset and disappointed

He kept a picture of you that he clipped from an old newspaper article in his wallet

Just in case he started to forget you, he could refresh his mind

So when he sees you across the field, he almost can’t believe it

He talks to you after it’s all over

He doesn’t want to scare you or be overbearing

But you are so excited to meet him after all these years

And especially since you know the truth now about what happened

You two instantly become best friends

Two peas in a pod

Esme:

I also can’t see a world where she has a baby

She did have a baby, but we know that it died, and I’m not sure how else it would fit in story-wise

So we’ll make up something and say that her baby lived and it was actually a girl 🤗

I love changing the canon

When she got turned, she had to leave you behind

She didn’t want to turn you as well, and she was afraid she would hurt you

So Carlisle helped Esme find a nice family to place you with

She kept tabs on you pretty regularly, even coming around to visit you every once in a while

Until one day you just vanished

She went crazy looking for you, but she never found you

She fell into a depression after that

It was like losing you all over again

So when she sees you with the Volturi, she’s so excited she almost forgets the fire situation that they’re in

When all’s over and resolved, she comes up to you immediately

You recognize her too as your mom’s friend that would come over once in a while

And you don’t hesitate to come home with her

You never liked the Volturi anyway

Too strict

Carlisle:

I’m a firm believer in the Carlisle hoe era

He might not have been drinking human blood but he might have been having human relations if you catch my drift

Only he never stuck around for long enough to see the effects of it

He only ever got one girl pregnant, because even when he was doing the do he still wrapped it cause he’s a doctor

But he never thought it was possible to get a human pregnant, so he never worried about it

But he starts thinking about his past when Renesmee comes to be, wondering if there’s a chance he did that at one point

His questions are answered when he sees you across the field

He can hear your heart beating

And why the Volturi still doubt Renesmee despite you being right there is a mystery to him

But the conflict gets resolved quickly, and he instantly goes to you

He’s so curious about how you came to be, who your mother was, if you have any abilities, all of that

He asks if you want to go with him, and of course you say yes

He never felt a strong desire to be the biological father of someone, but you might have just changed his mind

He’s always felt a paternal instinct over the Cullen kids, but with you it’s especially strong

Carlisle Dad Supremacy

Vampire! Bella:

Again

I cannot think of a scenario where this could be possible

I mean, we follow her for her whole human life, she does not have a kid

So I’m just gonna go with a niece for her ❤️

She was never too close with the rest of her family, but her little baby niece who had been born just a few years before she moved to Forks always captured her attention

She was always super sad that she never got to be around her a lot

Bella kept in touch with her aunt and uncle through Facebook, following along with their posts

But one day, they posted a missing poster, asking for help finding their daughter

Her niece

Bella was in hysterics, frantically asking Edward and Alice and anyone to help her find you

But it was a lot cause

And besides, they had bigger things to worry about

Namely, the Volturi

She tried her best to push you to the back of her mind

Only to see you standing across the field with bright red eyes

She was so angry she could have snapped Aro’s neck

After everything dissipated, she ran up to you and tackled you with a hug

It took you a moment to realize who she was, but once you did you reciprocated, wrapping your arms around her

Bella did not take no for an answer after that, you were coming with her no matter what

Family reunion am I right

[that-guy-sleepy-miles]

Mid-Blueprint Nap (ft. The Demon Bull King)

I've been thinking about Red King a lot, so here's a ficlet with an accompanying art piece! (Or an art piece with an accompanying ficlet...?) It includes a lot of information about the Red King AU, so I hope you guys enjoy it and are interested in the AU!

Heads up: Red King has a funky little gender! She uses she/her pronouns and male nouns, so if you have problems recognizing which pronouns go to which characters in prose, this might be a little difficult for you to read!

2.5k words

‎

Despite her quick disappearance, Red Son—or, as the Demon Bull King learned, she was now a "Red King"—didn't abandon her family. She'd never been one to do so; his Princess had assured him that such a thing hadn't happened in his absence. (His wife hadn't explained why their boy left in the first place, which gave him the idea that it was a tender subject. He would ask her in detail as soon as they had exacted their revenge and taken this city.)

When he desired more power, the Princess called for the bull clones to get their son and she was instantly at the Flaming Foundry with a solution. She'd brought out the blueprints for the Furnace with an uncharacteristic indifference, and explained how she'd imagined that this would be what he wanted, so years ago she’d come up with an idea years ago.

She’d said something about being unable to make a prototype because she didn’t have his measurements (which made no sense, why hadn’t she just asked her mother…), but she’d updated the ideas whenever she could. (Her specific wording was ‘woke up’, but the Bull King had no clue what she meant by that. She couldn’t have worked on it every morning if she was this disinterested…)

After that, Red King (how odd it was, to think of his son as being a king now; how much he had missed) had built the Furnace, oversaw the bull clones as they fit the armor onto the Bull King, and then explained how the armor worked. Halfway through her explanation, her eyes began to fall closed and her words slowed.

He’d watched her nod off in confusion until his wife struck her fan against the floor and startled Red King awake. They’d shared a look—tense on the Princess’s side and tired on Red King’s—before his wife sighed and his son continued, going on about finding rare items and giving pointers on where to find them in the city. She’d left after that, leaving him to find a shoe store on his own.

Something was happening in his family, and the Bull King was completely on the outside of it.

But, nonetheless, they continued like that: Red King would arrive when needed, providing them with what they asked for, and then depart quickly—it was like she was leaving as soon as possible. Which, frankly, was unacceptable. It was disrespectful and rude, especially to her family! However, it didn’t seem new; his wife, who was normally intolerant to any form or implication of disrespect, let their son blatantly disrespect them without a word.

In fact, she seemed almost grateful for it. She would relax her tense shoulders the second their boy had gone, let out a snide comment about how she was surprised that Red King was still awake or how it must be the little boy’s naptime under her breath, and then return to managing the dig site.

The dig site.

The dig site was the reason that Red King was called here by his mother today.

The Bull King wouldn’t lie, he was getting rather impatient with the slow speed of the excavation of the power source. He could feel the power in his fingertips, but he just couldn’t access it. He was so close, but he had to keep waiting! He had spent hundreds of years waiting, and he wouldn’t STAND for it any longer!

His wife, understanding his plight, called their son. There was no reason to even think about calling anyone else. They needed a machine, and they needed it to be precise so as to not disrupt whatever power was down there; who else would have that done at the same speed their son would?

(She’d arrived only 30 minutes after they sent a bull clone to fetch her. She was never one to be late, but the Bull King was beginning to wonder if she showed up so quickly so that she could leave sooner.)

The Bull King had been on his new throne, chin in hand, brooding, when she arrived. Red King was still in that robe of hers, he’d never seen her in anything different. Not that that was particularly unusual—it was quite like his son to have an article of clothing she liked to wear often—but the more she wore it, the more he began to realize it didn’t look much like a royal robe, and potentially something more for lounging in at home.

She rubbed her eye with the heel of her palm before asking, “You need me, Father?”

He grunted in affirmation, grinding his teeth for a second before he started, “I did not spend an eternity trapped under a mountain to be forced to wait longer! This is taking far too long, and I need you to speed it up.”

She tilted her head minutely to the side as she mulled over his words, and then yawned. Agitation set into his bones at her disrespect, but she quickly amended, “Apologies for that, Father... Consider it done, I’ll have an excavator built by the end of tomorrow.”

She turned to leave, but the growl he let out stopped her. She turned back to him with a confused and cautious glance, “Father?”

“I won’t wait any longer, especially not for you to return. I want work to start the second you’re finished with the drafting. You’re to stay here.”

She frowned deeply, “Father–”

“You are to stay here,” he shut down her protests immediately, slamming out the words “stay here” with utter finality.

She sighed and put her hand to her forehead as if nursing a headache, “As you wish, Father.”

What a rude little boy his son had become. As if he was wasting her time.

‎

Leaned against the wall nearest to her workspace, arms crossed, the Demon Bull King’s anger at his son quickly turned to concern. It was the concern that had been bubbling this entire time, amplified as he watched her work—er, try to work. He was beginning to think she truly did have a headache.

She was on her third blueprint page, frustration clear on her face; she’d crumpled the first one and ripped the other. He watched with unease as she kept beginning to nod off, snapped herself awake, and then spent maybe ten minutes working before she was back to barely conscious. Her pencil skidded across the paper far too often as her hand went lax over and over again, leaving white marks in its wake.

She snapped herself out of another sleeping spell and sighed miserably, a hand on her forehead the only thing keeping her from faceplanting onto the workbench. It was time for him to step in.

The Demon Bull King stopped leaning and walked over to her desk, arms still crossed, “What is the holdup?”

She scrubbed her face before looking up at him, “I can’t focus, Father.”

“Clearly,” he bit out. She scowled at him in return. He sneered back at her, showing sharp teeth.

She didn’t let up her own stare at his visual displeasure, so he lowered and turned his head. A threat display only meant to intimidate her and remind her to be respectful of her father, he’d never even think of hurting her. (He'd kill anyone who injured his precious boy, including himself.)

It seemed they’d entered their first standoff, like the ones she and her mother had, but the Demon Bull King couldn’t explain for the life of him why it was happening.

She sighed heavily—long-suffering and, again, miserable—before she turned back to the blueprints. After a moment's consideration, she began to speak: “I am making an excavator. It’s construction equipment for digging, a human-made design. I’m designing a boom, arm, bucket, and a cab on a rotating superstructure—the undercarriage isn’t necessary. I don’t imagine, we won’t be moving it from the Flaming Foundry, and we’re digging in one spot.”

The Bull King raised an eyebrow. Well, at least she wasn’t half-asleep anymore, and he wasn’t stuck waiting. He prompted her to continue with a nod of the head and a grunt.

She put her cheek in her hand and gestured around the blueprint as she explained, her voice still mostly disinterested, “I can build an excavator easily, but we both know you don’t just want an excavator, Father.” She chuckled minutely at that before continuing, “You want something that looks nice and sleek, but also looks powerful. But… how do I make an excavator look powerful? The arm, boom, and bucket will all be fine, you’ll like those as is, but I need to do something for the cab…”

Her tone concerned him so much in a way he couldn’t explain to anyone who didn’t know her. She was always so talkative and excited when she was a little boy, young and excited about her work—nearing manic. She would've killed to have her father's attention like this when she was getting into engineering…

Red King rubbed her eyes as she continued to prattle on about excavator cabs, noting how she normally wouldn’t struggle with the cab design but nothing was coming to mind. The Demon Bull King was not in the habit of lying, as said before, so he would admit she was entirely correct about him wanting something designed personally, and he did appreciate her care. It was a form of affection, he could tell when she said it, to pay attention to his aesthetics and how he liked his machinery.

Her chin was in her hands now, both elbows on the table. Her voice was slower as she said, “I might look back at old designs I made for you, but all of those blueprints are at mine…”

Now her cheeks were in her hands as her elbows slid forward slowly. Her eyes were slipping closed, and her words became just a bit slurred, “Mmm, i’sh not like I’m incapabul of designing somethin’”—she yawned—“I’m jush… so… tir’d…”

Down, down, down–

He slid a hand under her quickly before her head crashed into the workbench. She used what must be the last dregs of consciousness to bring her arms up to cross on his palm and cushion her face, and then she was dead-to-the-world asleep, snoring immediately. It might be a trick of his mind, but the Bull King was certain she was even slightly heavier in his palm.

Bewilderment overtook him as he stared at his son. They’d just been having a conversation—well, she’d been talking and he’d been listening—and now it was as if she’d been asleep for hours. He was stuck, half-leaned over and waiting for his son to wake, which he was certain wouldn’t happen for a while.

He sat down begrudgingly, ready to stay here until she woke up so that she wouldn’t bash her head against the metal workbench; this wasn’t necessary, but that would be an unfortunate way for his boy to be woken up, and Red King clearly needed this sleep. He huffed in irritation as his eyes traveled the room for a second, but they soon returned to his offspring.

The Demon Bull King realized quickly that he’d been unintentionally denying himself of one of his greatest joys: admiring his child. It was perhaps foolish, but no matter what anything thought of his boy, he still loved her. For years, he’d recanted the details of her birth to anyone who would listen for years and had memorized her zodiac (inner animal, true animal, and secret animal, of course), earthly branch, yin-yang, and element. He couldn’t shut up about his son.

And there was so much to admire, so much that was new. He paid close attention to her now as he cradled her in his palm: her even breaths against his skin, her thigh-length hair—warmed by her magical power as it spread across and fell between his fingers (and it was so warm, his boy was so strong), her cute horns that she'd grown scraping against his palm as she turned her head.

His son is was still little, like all creatures are compared to him, and yet she had gotten so big. So grown. 

And she was asleep on his hand like a baby.

‎

The Demon Bull King (again, not a liar) sat there for perhaps hours—he had no idea how long it was, there wasn’t a clock—admiring his boy and listening to her snore. She hadn’t moved an inch other than her body rising and falling with her breathing, completely in deep sleep and giving no indication that she’d wake soon.

“My love?”

The Bull King looked behind him to see his wife, “Yes?”

“It’s been four hours, beloved. Why are you still over here?” Concern colored her voice as she came to his side, a frown on her face. (She was so pretty, even when she was frowning. Or, perhaps, especially when she was frowning. She had such an elegant frown.)

He gestured to the sleeping boy on his palm, “She fell asleep.”

Her concern turned into annoyance quickly as she cast a callous look at their offspring, “Ah. Of course she did.”

“Her inability to stay awake is… concerning.”

The Princess scoffed, “Yes, it seems she’s given herself narcolepsy. What could possibly be so upsetting that she’d rather sleep for the rest of her life instead of having a conversation with her own mother, I couldn’t tell you. Did you even know we’re in her territory?”

The Bull King’s eyebrows raised, “Are we now?”

“Yes! The entire city is hers, but she refuses to take control of it!” His wife was exasperated, rolling her eyes as she continued, “She’ll barely even help her family take over her city! She’d rather sleep all day in that dreaded cave of hers—oh, well that’s not true.”—she checked her nails—“It’s a lovely cave, my love. You’d love the architecture, she put a lot of thought into it. It’s the last thing she’s put thought into for the last 500 years.”

The Bull King hummed deeply, his unease mounting.

“I can’t believe her sometimes! She doesn’t even send letters anymore! She doesn’t send letters, she comes without gifts, leaves before tea– How disrespectful can one get?” It seemed that he was not the only one offended by his son’s behavior, at least. But the Princess refused to comment on it in their son’s presence…

Why?

What questions did he need to ask to get to the bottom of this? Could he just ask his wife, “What happened?” Would that get more answers that explained everything but the core of the issue?

“If I didn’t visit her, she’d only wake up to eat every few months. Oh, and on that! She’s abandoned her diet! Not that I care about her diet, and we’ve all eaten people before, but it’s just another thing that she’s neglecting.”

“My love,” The Bull King sat up straight and eased Red King down onto the workbench with gentle fingers, “I think it’s time for us to turn in as well.”

His wife sighed and nodded, “It is getting late.”

They left the Red King to sleep.

[kybercrystals94]

Might

Read here on Ao3!

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 2 | Prompt: Injured

Rated: G | Words: 511

“Caf?” Hunter asks one morning, holding out a thick mug.

With a hum, Crosshair reaches for it, the dregs of sleep still fogging his mind.

Hunter pulls the mug back, wincing, as he says, “Uh, sorry. Uhm…other hand, Cross.”

Crosshair looks down at his outstretched hand and sees that it is missing, phantom fingers reaching and flexing. He drops his arm. “I don’t want caf,” he mutters, turning away, the flame of embarrassment burning across his face.

“I’ll just leave it on the counter if you change your mind,” Hunter says.

But Crosshair won’t change his mind. He’s already tugging on his boots and walking out the door.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, but the cool, damp air almost instantly soothes the scorching humiliation of his absentmindedness. He doesn’t know why it bothers him so intensely, why it feels like an abrasive lapse of memory. He’d seen Echo deal with the same, exact issue as he acclimated to the loss of his own limbs after his rescue from Skako Minor. He’d never thought Echo ridiculous or idiotic for it. In fact, he’d admired the reg’s tenacity, how quickly he corrected and adapted.

And yet, here is Crosshair, refusing a cup of caf because he used the wrong hand to claim it.

“Crosshair, wait up!” Omega’s voice floats behind him. He stops, but doesn’t turn, listening as her running steps get closer, tangled with the sound of Batcher’s thundering gallop. Omega trots to a stop at his left side and slips her hand into his. “Can we walk with you?”

“I’m not going anywhere…just walking,” he says.

Omega smiles up at him. “Perfect.”

He shoves his right wrist in his jacket pocket as they walk, and he can almost pretend his hand is still there, hidden from sight.

Batcher lumbers ahead, leading them down to the beach. The hound stops every little while to look back at them, making sure her shadows are still nearby. Omega swings their arms playfully, singing a soft, hummed tune that Crosshair recognizes from the docks. A melody sung by the fishermen.

“Can I help with the specs for your prosthetic?” Omega asks suddenly.

Crosshair frowns. “My what?”

“Your prosthetic,” Omega says again, patiently. “Can I help design it?”

“I’m not getting a prosthetic,” Crosshair says icily.

Omega is looking up at him, he can see her expression crumble out the corner of his eye, but he won’t look at her. He swallows, glancing away, and hiding his face entirely.

“That’s okay if you don’t want one,” Omega says after a moment, “I just thought you might.”

Omega doesn’t hum or swing his arm the rest of the way to the beach. As soon as their boots touch the sand, she chases after Batcher, laughing as the hound crashes into the surf.

Crosshair finds a piece of driftwood log to sit on and watches them play. He takes his right wrist out of his pocket and tries to imagine it with an artificial hand. He doesn’t know if he wants that.

But he might.

END

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[wampyra]

Heyy its me again I thought of a plottt

So it's 2010 bill and reader is a solo artist but she lives in America so they're long distance and in the middle of their humanoid tour she surprises him by arriving at his next destination before him and meeting him at the airport so yay reunited and stuff yay so they get to the hotel (she knew what hotel to book because she talked to one of the other guys about surprising bill and that's also how she knew when to be at the airport) and they have sex with really good aftercare because yk they haven't in a long time

This is so random help I came up with this literally while writing anyway have fun writinggg

i definitely had fun writing this tbh, hope you'll have fun reading it hehe (i changed it up slightly but enjoy nonetheless)

———☆————☆————☆————☆———

"you have no idea how much i miss you, schatz." bill spoke out, his voice echoing through the speakers of your laptop while you were on facetime. he looked into the camera, his eyebrows furrowed in sadness as he sighed.

"i miss you too." you responded, sitting crisscrossed as the laptop rested on your mattress. you looked sad, but almost and accidentaly letting a smirk creep onto your face knowing talked to tom about taking a flight in a few hours to berlin where they were staying.

"baby, i have to go." bill smiled softly. "i love you so much." he spoke, leaning to kiss the camera.

you let out a small chuckle, he was the cutest and would always put a smile on your face. "i love you more." you blew a kiss to the camera, hanging up the call and closing your laptop.

your smile grew wider as you bit down onto your bottom lip, laying down on your back and rolling around, squealing in excitement like a little child.

you breathed in deeply, and breathed out, trying to relax before hopping off your bed and into the shower.

as the warm water cascaded down your body, you wrapped your arms around yourself in a comforting manner, imagining how it would finally feel like when you were back in bill's arms after such a long time.

you sighed, finishing up with your shower, drying down your body and hair. you then instantly got to getting ready, applying makeup, glossing your lips and dark eyeshadow to match bill.

as for your outfit, you wore a cute pair of flared jeans, matching them with a bebe tube top and topping it all off with accessories such as hoop earrings and a small black shoulder bag.

as the hours passed with you listening to your boyfriend's music, getting ready and packing, it was finally time for you to head to the airport.

you threw on your jacket, putting on and tying your shoes in a hurry, finally meeting with your driver outside of your apartment and heading towards the airport.

it was a quick drive, you finally arrived at the airport, checking in with the staff and having your driver help you out with your suitcase.

"ma'am, are you sure you wouldn't like me to accompany you for this trip?" your driver asked you, slightly worried since it was your first time travelling alone.

"no, i'll be fine. i promise." you flashed a quick smile, reassuring him.

as you were getting ready to finally head to your plane, a teenange girl walked up to you, recognizing you and asking for a picture.

you happily obliged, making sure not to fully blow your cover as you took a picture with her.

–– ☆ time skip ☆ ––

after a painful, slow and sleepy 12 hours, you finally arrived to berlin, late at night and well after they finished with their concerts for the day.

you groaned, carrying your suitcase with you. your eyes lit up as you saw tom waiting for you outside of the airport, leaning his back against his car.

you suddenly had a boost of energy, running towards him with your heavy suitcase following behind. you crashed into him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he was much taller than you, hugging him as your suitcase fell roughly to the ground.

"woah there, tiger." tom let out a laugh, reciprocating the hug with no hesitation as he looked down at you.

"god, i haven't seen you in so long." i couldn't control my smile, backing away as we released eachother from our embraces.

"where's bill? georg? gustav?" i spoke happily, ecstatic to finally see them all.

"georg and gustav are dead asleep by now." tom chuckled, picking up your suitcase from the ground and plopping it into the trunk of his car.

"bill? he's probably jacking off to your picture or something." he spoke with a smirk on his face, a mischevious glint in his eyes as he adored teasing you, finding your reactions amusing.

"ugh, fuck off." you playfully hit his arm, rolling your eyes as you laughed at his dumb comment.

"i'm just messing with you." he had that devilish grin plastered over his face again as he opened the door of his car for you.

"yeah, whatever." you replied, letting out a soft chuckle as you plopped into the passenger seat, tom quickly joining you in the driver's seat.

"by the way, i already booked you into the hotel so there's nothing to worry about." he spoke as he turned the keys, putting his foot on the gas and driving to our next location.

"you're an angel." you sighed contently, staring out the window and admiring the beautiful city and the stars above it.

you and tom chatted throughout the whole drive, finally arriving to your destination as he led you into the hotel, checking you in, carrying your suitcase and following you into your room.

he helped you unpack, finally leading you to bill's room which was a few rooms after yours, you were relatively close to one another.

"alright, don't scream too loud." tom leaned into your ear, whispering. you furrowed your eyebrows in annoyance, hitting him again.

"come on, i wanna sleep tonight." he snorted, and before you could hit him once more, he quickly ran off to his room, laughing.

you sighed, standing in front of bill's door. you felt nervous, but excited as you pulled up your top and fixed your jacket. you knocked on the door twice, swaying with your lips slightly pouted and waiting impatiently for it to open.

"tom?" bill spoke out before walking up to the door, opening it and revealing himself in nothing but a towel wrapped securely around his hips, his long hair wet as it fell below his shoulders.

his eyes widened as he realized it was actually you at the door. without saying a word, you squealed and jumped onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips.

bill stumbled back slightly, quickly wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you tightly as he pushed the door closed with his foot.

"oh my fucking god." he spoke in disbelief, his voice slightly shaky as he tightened his hold on you.

"surprise!" you spoke out, unable to control your joyful, sparkly eyes and smile as you stood on your feet, your arms still wrapped around his neck.

bill looked at you, his mouth opened agape as he pulled you into a tight hug, making you stand on your tippy toes. his arms wrapped tightly around your waisy, making you sigh into his shoulder, finally feeling his warm and comforting embrace around you until you heard sniffling.

"bill?!" you spoke, your eyebrows furrowing in unease as you started to panic slightly, moving your head to look at him as he raised his up finally.

bill was crying, warm tears running down his cheeks as he could only stare deeply into your eyes without saying a word. thankfully he took off his makeup, or else it would of been completely smudged.

"baby, what's wrong?" your tone softened as you cupped his cheeks, admiring his features and teary eyes.

"i just.." he tried to speak, his voice still shaky as he sniffled. "i can't believe you're actually here." he spoke truthfully as you could hear his voice breaking due to his emotions.

"oh, my sweet boy." you spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper whilst your thumbs grazed over his skin lovingly, reassuring him.

you smiled, bringing his face in closer before finally closing the gap and sealing it with a gentle kiss. his lips were soft and wet from his tears as he gripped onto your waist tightly, bringing you in as close as possible and deepening the kiss.

you both knew that you missed eachother deeply, and you both knew that you needed whatever was gonna happen next.

the kiss becoming more intimate and aggressive, you let out a soft whimper into his lips as you threw off your jacket, wrapping your arms around his neck once again.

bill, not breaking the kiss, proceeded to grab you by the back of your thighs again, hoisting you up and pressing you against him as he led you to his bed.

you broke the kiss as he placed you down onto the luxurious and soft mattress, both panting for air as he crawled closer, his hands on your belt. he looked at you in silence, begging for an approving look to continue. you nodded, sitting up and helping him unbuckle your belt and unzip your jeans as fast as possible.

you layed back down, raising your hips as bill pulled the jeans off, throwing them to the side and leaving you in your black, laced panties.

"fuck, you're so beautiful.." he whispered lowly, his tone laced with nothing but deep desire as he was now straddling your hips, leaning down to capture your mouth in a passionate kiss.

whilst your arms were wrapped around his neck and the kiss slightly becoming more possesive, making you moan, bill held suppported himself up with one hand while the other one traveled lower and lower, rubbing your clit in circles through the thin fabric with his fingers.

you shut your eyes closed with your moans getting progressively harsher into his mouth, making him quicken his pace.

he broke away from the kiss, stopping his relentless attack on your clit as he now sat on his knees between your legs, grabbing onto your thighs and pulling you roughly closer, your crotch hitting his hard cock, only covered by a towel.

he quickly discarded the towel off of his body, throwing it away and revealing his big, veiny and throbbing cock.

you bit your lip at the sight, feeling your cunt almost pulsating. bill placed your legs over his shoulders as he moved your panties to the side, rubbing his tip against your wet folds.

you whimpered, preparing yourself as you turned your head away, closing your eyes to savour the moment.

slowly but surely, bill pressed his tip into your hole, pushing himself in gently.

"is this okay, baby?" he asked before going further, holding onto your thighs.

"mhmm.." you moaned out through a closed mouth, not wanting to look until he was fully in.

bill licked his lips, dulging deeper and deeper into your tight pussy, soft moans involuntarily leaving your mouth until he finally filled you up whole with his cock.

your chest heaved up and down as he started to thrust in and out of you at a slow pace, leaning down to bury his head into the crook of your neck as the back of his forearms rested next to each side of your head.

"fuck.." bill moaned into your neck, kissing it and nipping at it slightly, creating small marks.

"so fucking.. tight.." he barely croaked out thrugh heavy and ragged breaths, sucking on your neck and whimpering as his pace quickened.

"holy shit, r-right there.." you moaned out, your back arching as he kept hitting the right spot, making you squirm under him.

your arms wrapped around his neck as your nails dug deeply into his skin, making him bleed.

"fuck fuck fuck!" you let out hopelessly, letting out high pitched moans as bill ravaged fucked you hard and fast like never before.

"oh baby, you feel fucking incredible." bill spoke, raising his head up as he grabbed your chin using one hand, forcing you to look at him with a grin on his face.

"bill, i- i'm gonna fucking c-" you were cut off, letting out a sharp gasp, your eyes widening as bill slammed his cock into you roughly, making you shut up.

"gonna what, schatz?" he nipped at your earlobe, teasing you.

you were close to your edge, not being able to handle it anymore as bill pounded himself into you relentlessy, making it hard to form sentences.

"BILL!" you screamed out, your back arching whilst your whole body shook, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you finally orgasmed.

bill thrusted deeply one more time, filling you up with his sperm as he groaned lowly, biting onto your shoulder.

your breathing became steadier as bill pulled out, plopping down lazily beside you on his back.

"fuck.. you did perfect." he turned his head to look at you with hooded eyes, completely out of breath but still not weak enough to give you a smile.

you used the back of your hand to wipe the sweat off of your forhead as bill got closer and suddenly grabbed onto your waist, pulling your sweaty body on top of his and covering both of your naked bodies with the sheets.

"i missed you so fucking much." he spoke softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your head into the crook of it whilst his arms were around your waist, rubbing your sides comfortingly.

"i missed you too." you snuggled against him, taking in that sweet scent of his whilst he kissed your forhead lovingly, letting you know that he appreciated this night and that he cared deeply for you, more than you'll ever know.

bill's phone suddenly vibrated on his nightstand. he groaned, lazily stretching out his arms to pick it up.

"you need something?" he spoke into the phone, rolling his eyes after a moment as he suddenly turned the camera on, facing the screen towards you.

"did i tell you not to scream too loud? now my beauty sleep is ruined."

———☆————☆————☆————☆———

[xxlady-lunaxx]

could you possibly write something about the kamado siblings and giyuu after the war? (but especially tanjiro)

i personally headcanon that giyuu is forcefully adopted by the kamado siblings afterwards and they call him their big brother lol

it's revealed that nezuko repaired giyuu's haori and visited him each day he was unconscious to call him back, and just imagine nezuko properly greeting giyuu as a human??? and giyuu definitely would have been at tanjiro's bedside as soon as he was able to and be one of the first people tanjiro saw as he woke up- i need them to hug and for giyuu to admit it's nice to care for others and to be cared for ;lkadjf;aijouha;fkj;lajdf;lafjklah;h;

tanjiro always being the older brother but now having someone to lean on ;ad;lafj;odiuwehrj;lj;lkaj;dlfhoeiwhfkja

sorry giyuu and tanjiro brainrot has taken over recently

the rq is so cute 😞 i love you for thisthe ask itself screams spoilers so i don't think i need warningsbtw. this gave me a lil motivation boost so thank you<3 (I also got carried away with this HELP)

The first thing Giyuu said when he woke up was—"Where's Tanjiro?"

Nezuko was by his side when he came to and for a moment he had to gather his bearings. It took him only a couple seconds but in his mind it was too much; he was wasting time and energy that he would need to save for later, his reaction timing was too slow. Then he remembered vaguely, through the pounding in his head, the demonic eyes of Tanjiro's. Memories instantly flooded him and he jolted up, ignoring the blood that rushed to his head as he turned to Nezuko, eyes wide and frantic. "Wh- Where's Tanjiro? Is he okay? Why are you here?"

The questions poured out of him one after the other as he worried that Nezuko was only here because Tanjiro was gone, because in the end their efforts had been futile, because-

Nezuko smiled gently at him. "He's sleeping."

Her voice was like nectar and instantly calmed Giyuu. It hit him then that he had never truly heard her voice before and he took her in now, feeling himself relax further as he noticed her eyes were back to normal, resembling Tanjiro's in a way.

"Oh. Has he woken?"

"No, but Aoi says he might, soon. He's still injured, even though he turned into a demon and healed, so he's been in a coma for a bit. He'll wake," Nezuko explained. She gazed at Giyuu. "I should tell Aoi you woke up. She'll want to check you over."

"Okay," Giyuu murmured. Absentmindedly, he went to fidget with the blanket only to realize that one of his arms were gone. He frowned at it, prodding the sleeve that dangled uselessly past his upper arm. It felt weird, as if his senses had been abruptly stopped. He let out a breath, turning his attention back up as Nezuko stood and went to the door to call for Aoi. He looked around, realizing he was in one of the rooms with multiple beds. They didn't seem to be all occupied but he noticed one or two to his left with patients. The one closest to him he recognized by the tufts of white hair that potruded from the blankets. It was Sanemi, who looked fast asleep.

Aoi entered the room briskly, her expression tense until she laid eyes on Giyuu, relief flooding her face. "Ah, good, you're awake," she breathed, as if she hadn't believed Nezuko. "Tell me how you feel."

And so the rest of the day went by quite peacefully, despite the dizzying number of tests and medicines he was put on. He was updated as well on the current state of things, which was basically just the Kakushi scrambling for their cover story about a sinkhole, the Ubuyashiki's having graves made for each and every one of the fallen slayers, burying those they could and commemorating them all. Aoi had been working practically non stop since the war, being in charge of healing the ones who could be saved. Tengen and some of the people from Wisteria Houses had been at aid, but it had been a lot for the young girl, especially with having to deal with the loss of Shinobu as well. But overall, everything was going quite well and as the sun started to set, dinner was delivered to Giyuu on a tray, resting on his lap as he and Nezuko made mindless chatter. Nezuko had eaten earlier after helping Aoi cook and now, as Giyuu grew accustumed to using his non-dominant hand, she pulled out a small sewing kit. Then, to Giyuu's surprise, she got out his haori which was folded, a needle stuck in one part so it wouldn't be lost.

"Wha- My haori? I thought it was... I thought it was practically gone...?" he said quietly. He recalled how it had been quite tattered, mostly covered in blood and barely hanging from his shoulders. He watched now as she unfolded it and placed it methodically on her lap, adjusting the needle in her grip.

"It was. But Aoi managed to get me more fabric and I'm trying to fix it," Nezuko hummed, pushing the needle into the haori, red thread trailing behind it. "I used to mend our clothing back before I turned into a demon, so I was hoping I could do something."

"Oh." Giyuu's eyes were trained on her hand, watching it as it moved in practiced, undulating movements, pushing the needle in and out as she continued. "Thank you..."

She looked up, tilting her head. "You don't have to thank me. In a way, this is my thank you to you."

"For what?"

She thought about this for a moment, pausing her sewing. "For everything."

Giyuu frowned, busying himself with spooning soup into his mouth. "Everything?"

"You helped us from the very beginning, both by stopping me from harming Tanjiro and from sparing my life, too. You protected us from the other Hashira when they were against us and I heard you helped Tanjiro a lot during the fight with Muzan. You did so much more than even that, and I'm sure Tanjiro would want me to do whatever I could to pay you back for that. Expect a lot of thank you's from him, too," she said with a gentle laugh. She went back to sewing and Giyuu gazed at her, mulling over this. He found that she no longer seemed as much of a child as she did before, or even just from a couple days prior the war. He wished, really, that he had managed to shield them from everything. But he supposed as long as they were both alive, it was okay.

He finished his dinner and Aoi came back to collect his tray, instructing him to sleep because he had had much more of an eventful day than he should've having just awoken after two weeks.

He spent most of the following days in bed or supported by others until Aoi decided he was allowed to walk around. Naturally, he made his way instantly to Tanjiro's room, finding a chair and sitting by him. Nezuko sat next to Giyuu, working diligently on the haori, which she was nearly done with. Mostly, it was quiet, both either preoccupied or having nothing to say. From time to time, they made small talk but it usually died out quickly as Giyuu still found himself unaccustumed to having someone to talk to and ended up answering with short, almost curt responses. Nevertheless, they were able to pass the time for the days that continued up until Tanjiro awoke with a startled gasp, much more abrupt than Giyuu's awakening.

Of course, both Giyuu and Nezuko flinched at the sudden sharp intake in the quiet room. But they realized where it had originated quickly and instantly reacted: Nezuko, dropping the haori onto Tanjiro's bed and standing to hug her brother and Giyuu, calling out to Aoi before turning back to the boy and joining the embrace without a thought. Despite the reassurances that Tanjiro would be fine, both had been worried sick at Tanjiro's seeming reluctance to wake up and relief flooded their expressions—along with tears, although Giyuu managed to rein them in—as they pulled back.

Tanjiro looked mostly confused, really. But he was well, to say the least. Certainly, he looked pale, but he had for the past few weeks anyway so that was nothing new. He was struggling to sit up now, trying to make sense of everything—no doubt his head was very muddled, having just awoken after a month's worth of slumber. Eventually, they had to help him up as the arm he had regenerated as a demon was unable to do much. He sat there for a moment, blinking slowly. Then he turned first to Nezuko, then Giyuu, a slow and, curiously, relieved smile breaking through. "I'm glad you're okay..." he said quietly. His voice was fragmented and hoarse and worse for wear—but it was his, he was talking! And it brought the other two to near tears once again, although they both managed to get ahold of themselves for his sake.

"We were kinda worried; Aoi said you would be fine but you've been asleep for, like, a month, now!" Nezuko whined, slumping down on the bed, then yelping and removing her needlework quickly before it pricked her anymore.

Tanjiro fretted over her, confirming she wasn't badly injured despite having just resurfaced from a coma. He seemed unconcerned for himself, really. He turned to Giyuu, frowning momentarily at the obvious loss of a limb. "You two aren't hurting, right? I don't remember too much yet, my head is a bit... misty?" he suggested, using his good arm to rub furiously at his temple, mussing his hair further.

Nezuko laughed, somewhat hysterically, reaching up to fix his hair back in place. "Don't worry about us, we're doing great. Giyuu-san's almost completely up for leaving the Estate and my injuries were light," she assured him. "Worry about yourself, for once."

Tanjiro pouted. "But-" Then he paused, realizing something. "Oh. Oh, Nezuko, I hurt you when I was a demon, right? I'm so sorry- I hurt you too, Giyuu-san, I'm sure. I'm sorry, I'm-"

Giyuu spoke now, having felt before that he would be intruding in the other two's moment (even when they mentioned him). "Don't be sorry," he said firmly, gaze fixated on Tanjiro. "You were a demon and Muzan directly gave you his powers, somehow. You did very well in resisting a lot of the instincts that typically surface for demons, which is probably the only reason we're talking now. You had no control over the other things then, really, but I think you were somehow minimizing your attack's full capacity on Nezuko as a demon, or even not hurting her at all."

There was a moment of silence, punctured only by Nezuko's agreement. Then Tanjiro caved, apparently too tired to try and argue. "I still hope anything I did wasn't very lasting," he mumbled, dipping his head down.

"Hey!" Nezuko huffed, flicking his forehead. "He just said you don't have to say sorry, so don't! We're all better now, and that's what matters, right?"

Tanjiro nodded reluctantly, although mostly to please his sister. "Fine," he conceded. "So you're both better?"

They nodded in unison and he brightened again. Then Aoi arrived and both Nezuko and Giyuu were ushered away so she could check on Tanjiro. The next day, Giyuu was finally let out. Sanemi was having some final check ups but both Hashira were informed of some meeting with Kiriya in a couple days. Despite being allowed to leave, Giyuu intended to stay and help around as much he could, knowing that Aoi had a lot on her shoulders and also just wanting to watch over Tanjiro.

Though Aoi insisted he needn't stay, it ended up being a good thing he had because apparently Tanjiro was going through a mountain load of guilt—which, he supposed, wasn't inevitable, but it pained him to see the boy so anxious. Of course, Tanjiro did little to tell him any of his worries and it wasn't until Giyuu had been getting water at night when he passed by Tanijro's door and heard the muffled, yet unmistakable sounds of crying. He abandoned his need for water and slowly opened the door, peeking into the room. It was dark but the faint moonlight that seeped through the window's curtains was enough for Giyuu to see the sillhouette of the boy, hunched over in bed. Upon hearing the creaking of the door, Tanjiro jolted, snapping his head up to meet Giyuu's eyes.

"Eh- Giyuu-san?" he asked, reaching up to rub his eyes though no doubt Giyuu wouldn't have been able to tell he was crying in the darkness.

Giyuu made his way towards him, sitting on the side of the bed. "What happened?" he asked, clear concern decipherable in his tone.

"Nothing, nothing! I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Tanjiro fretted. His voice was hoarse and Giyuu's worry increased. He must've been crying for a while.

"You didn't wake me, I was getting water. Are you okay?" Giyuu said, reaching up to pat him, then thinking better of it and retracting his hand.

"I'm- I'm fine, it's fine. You should go sleep, it's late," Tanjiro said, tugging the blankets up. "Please, I'm alright."

Giyuu shook his head. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Tanjiro paused, then mumbled a quiet, "not really..."

"It's okay. I can just sit here with you," Giyuu suggested, scooting closer.

"Okay." Tanjiro moved over a bit, letting Giyuu under the blanket. The bed was small but they managed to find a way to sit side by side. Tanjiro rested his head against Giyuu's shoulder, drawing swirls absentmindedly on the blanket. They sat like this for a while, the only sound being their breaths and the occasional hiccup in the quiet comfort of the room. Then Tanjiro spoke, his voice quivering and meek, so unlike his usual self that Giyuu's arm wrapped instinctively around him.

"I feel like I should've done more," Tanjiro murmured. "Fought harder against Muzan. Nezuko and Aoi told me about all the Hashira who had died and the estimated count of people in total who were lost. And I know I wasn't present where a lot of them died, but in the places I was there... At the very least, I could've saved your arm..."

Giyuu understood him completely. It would be a lie to say he hadn't been going through everything time and time again in his head, noting each place he could've done something different and saved someone. But Nezuko had been so constantly by his side, supporting him without even realizing it. And caring for Tanjiro had kept his mind occupied, allowing him to appreciate the people he was able to save than focus on those he had lost. So he told Tanjiro this now, letting him see a part of Giyuu he wouldn't have dreamed of sharing just a couple months ago.

Tanjiro gazed up at him as he spoke, silent but intent. When Giyuu finished, he stayed quiet for a while before answering. "I understand... It just feels harder to... to let myself be happy? Now? And I still feel responsible for hurting Nezuko, like I have to be a better brother for her now and support her instead of the other way around," he admitted, his voice cracking at the end.

"I know. I know," Giyuu said quietly. And he did, he really did. He felt that, somehow, they had embraced him into their family of some sorts. As if he had become their brother, that now he must accept the role and take care of the two, to be there for both of them. He didn't know if he was doing a good job, if he was succeeding. But if Tanjiro felt comfortable to be telling him all of this, then maybe he was. "You're doing great, Tanjiro. I can tell... from Nezuko, that she admires you a lot and she seems to be happier when you're around, too. But also you shouldn't feel like you have to be in charge of everything, you should let other people take over from time to time and put less pressure on yourself."

Tanjiro bit his lip, considering this. Then a small smile curved his lips and he tilted his head up to look at Giyuu. "You should do that too, Giyuu-san," he said, nudging him gently with his head.

That brought a smile to Giyuu's face as well and he let out a breath. "Then we can do this together, okay? We can navigate it all, but we won't be alone. Yeah?"

"Yes... okay," Tanjiro agreed, closing his eyes and leaning back onto Giyuu. They were quiet again and Giyuu figured that Tanjiro had fallen asleep after a while. But then Tanjiro spoke, seeming to be on the brink of slumber, his breaths slowing to a tranquil beat. "Thank you, Giyuu-san."

Giyuu gazed at him for a moment. Then he leaned his head against Tanjiro's, closing his own eyes. "Thank you, too."

SDHKSGJSDjknsdnij (sobs) pllleaase send more requests w them OMG