#I’m gonna scream so loud that everyone reading this can hear me. doesn’t matter where you are | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

flowercrowngods · 11 months ago

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who did this to you. part 2

🤍🌷 read part 1 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie

This is not happening. None of this is happening, he’s… He’s dreaming. He’s high. High as a kite somewhere where reality doesn’t matter, where it can’t fucking reach him and he’s— He’s not panicking behind the wheel with Steve Fucking Harrington bleeding against the passenger side window.

It’s not happening.

Because if it were happening, Eddie would simply throw up. He’d leave his van on the side of the road and run the fuck away. Away from Harrington and his trouble, away from his rattling breath that’s so loud and unsteady, Eddie doesn’t even dare to turn on any sort of music, even though he’s itching for it, his hands clenching and unclenching around the wheel until his knuckles go white.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbles under his breath, barely aware of his surroundings at all, his eyes flitting from Harrington to the red stain against the window, back to the road and then down to the white-knuckled grip and the speckles of dried blood that is decidedly not his.

Lost in his panic and disbelief, Eddie almost runs a red light.

It’s harsh, the way he hits the brakes, and the sound Harrington makes is pathetic enough that Eddie feels like maybe this might actually be happening.

“Sorry,” he breathes, his voice no better than Steve’s — and he’s not the one with a concussion, a broken rib, and that… fucking fear. Of something. Or someone.

Who’s hurting you, Steve?

Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.

He doesn’t even know. He doesn’t wanna know. All he wants is for Harrington to stop fucking bleeding, to keep his eyes wide open and—

“Ed,” the boy says, wheezes, and it sounds like he wanted to say his full name, but had to swallow first. Blood, Eddie thinks. Don’t let it be blood. “Think I’m… ‘M gonna throw up.”

“Please don’t throw up,” Eddie says before he can stop himself, hating how small his voice sounds, how urgent — like that’s the thing to be urgent about. God, he’s such an ass, but he… If Harrington throws up, Eddie will lose it. He knows he will.

He chances a glance over at Steve, who has somehow managed to get his right arm tangled with the handle at the door, keeping himself upright and safe from Eddie’s rather frantic driving style. His head is drooping, moving this way and that against the red-stained glass, and he blinks unseeingly as blood begins to trickle down from his nose and temple again.

He’s making himself small, and Eddie wants to pull him upright and tell him to stay like that, tell him to stop looking so terrible, so horrible, so…

So much like Eddie’s fucking problem.

He hates it. Hates everything about that vision. Boys like Harrington shouldn’t look like this, shouldn’t hold themselves like this, shouldn’t… Shouldn’t have no one but Eddie to take them somewhere safe.

It’s just not tight.

“Don’ wanna throw up,” Steve says at last, the pause too long for Eddie’s liking, and he sounds so solemn about it, yet so helpless, and Eddie kinda wants to scream. Wants Harrington to scream. Anything to stay awake and maybe not ruin his car. Anything to not fucking die in it.

“Tell me something,” he says then, because he knows he has to keep Harrington awake and speaking. Just for another ten, fifteen minutes, he tells himself. “Anything, yeah? Tell me anything. Gotta keep you awake there, you hear me? Sounds great, right, staying awake?”

He’s rambling and he knows it, desperation shining through his words and the god-awful way his voice breaks a little. This is not about him, he knows it isn’t, but still he wants to punch himself, wants to pinch himself and stay fucking calm.

But who could stay calm in a situation like this? The silence is filled with the horrible wheezing and rattling of Harrington’s breath barely audible over the engine, and Eddie has to look over several times to make sure he’s still there, still with him, still alive. His panic spikes each time.

He’s just about to reach over and shake him a little, snap in front of his face to get him back, when—

“I don’t know what.”

It’s quiet, that voice, breathy and tiny and almost invisible, and Eddie wants to scream again.

Tell me why you’re so scared. Tell me why your old buddy did this to you. Hagan would never touch you, so why did he now? Tell me what happened to Hargrove. Tell me why you sound so fucking small.

“Tell me about your…” He fumbles for a moment, taking a sharp left and pretending not to hear the choked-off whimper. Focusing on good things. On normal things. “Your favourite person.”

Eddie cringes at himself the moment the words leave his mouth. Your favourite person? Really, Munson? He scrambles to find something better, something cooler, or maybe something easier like asking his favourite fucking colour, but the overthinking really doesn’t mix well with the already panicked state of his mind. And Eddie just blanks.

Beside him, though, Harrington sits up a little straighter, smearing more blood against his window in the process that Eddie pretends not to feel nauseous about.

God, he never did like blood.

“You wan’ me to tell you ‘bout Rob?”

“Sure, yeah,” Eddie says, a little too loud, a little too shrill, actually running a red light this time because he doesn’t want to brake again and hurt the boy some more. There’s no one around anyway. This is Hawkins. Fucking dead-end of a town. It doesn’t need red lights, or boys who look like Harrington. “Rob. Tell me ‘bout him, what’s he like? Favourite colour, all that shit.”

“Her.”

Eddie blinks, looking over to find Harrington looking at him — or trying to, his eyes still drooping and empty. But it’s a good sign. People don’t die when they look at you, right?

“What?”

“Her,” Harrington says again. “An’ blue. Deep ‘n’ dark blue. She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.”

Eddie doesn’t really listen, doesn’t really process what Steve is saying, already thinking of the next question just to keep him talking. But then he continues on his own.

“Mornin’ blue dep— de… makes her sad, though. So only dark blue. Says it’s why we’re friends. You’re so blue, Stevie. Got half’a my clothes, still, she does. All the blues.”

That's... really fucking endearing, actually.

And he says it with a half-smile, too, bloody and pathetic as it is. Like it’s a secret that only the two of them are in on, only Steve and Robin. It’s kind of sweet.

Not for the first time today does Eddie find himself wondering, Who the hell are you, Steve Harrington?

He exhales through his nose, ignoring the way he’s started to shake with all that panic that’s been sitting inside him for a little too long now with no way to let it out.

“Not much longer,” he mumbles under his breath again, or maybe he just thinks very hard. Maybe he doesn’t know where he is at all. It’s like he blanks every few seconds, too busy thinking and trying not to.

Before he can tell Harrington to talk some more about that girlfriend of his, there’s a pained, confused little whine that forcefully tears Eddie’s eyes from the street for a moment only to meet hazel eyes widened in confusion.

“Wh— Where… Where’re we going?”

Oh no.

“Why’m I in y—“

“You’re safe,” Eddie interrupts him, speaking slowly because suddenly his tongue is too big for his mouth, and not entirely sure if he’s reassuring Harrington or himself. “You’re hurt, okay? It’s bad, but it wasn’t me. I’m taking you to… to someone. My uncle Wayne, he’s— He knows about that kinda stuff. You were telling me about Rob. Remember her, Blue? How about you tell me some more, hm?”

Eddie’s voice is unsteady with worry and fear and panic, and he’s doing a piss-poor job at hiding it. The thing is, he’s going to cry. He’s actually, absolutely, no-doubt-about-it going to scream and cry and punch a fucking hole into something when this day is over, when his van is no longer bloody, and when Steve Harrington won’t have reason to look at him any longer.

Oh, how he wants to skip forward. Past the nausea, past the fear, past everything that’s happening right now. Maybe past the insomnia that will come with a day like this, too.

Past all of it.

Or better yet, travel back in time and never get to that fucking boat house.

But he can’t. So he breathes.

At first, through the ringing in his ears and the racing of his own heart so loud and so forceful he’s shaking with it, he worries that Steve’s gone silent again, that he’s gonna ask again, ask what happened, ask where he is, ask all the questions that make Eddie feel like he’s been doused in ice water because they’re questions that only get asked in stupid movies where terrible things happen to people.

But then he hears him mumbling something. Numbers.

“What’cha mumbling there, Blue?”

“‘S her number,” Steve says, his voice slurring again, worse than before, and Eddie hits the gas a little harder. “‘S jus’ her number. Robbie’s number.”

And he mumbles again. Over and over and over, until Eddie couldn’t forget it if he wanted to, ingrained into the frayed edges of his mind now.

He lets him ramble, lets him repeat the number until the words slur together and he can’t separate a four from a nine anymore. Each time Harrington hesitates, each time he stumbles over the words or forgets a digit, Eddie wants to punch the wheel.

He doesn’t. He only grips it tighter and counts down the turns he takes, the streets he passes, the fucking trees that are familiar, before, finally, the trailer park comes into view.

The sob Eddie lets out when, with shaking, trembling hands he pulls up to his home to find his uncle having a smoke outside is deafening to his ears after the quiet weakness of Harrington’s voice.

It startles him, makes him stop his rambles and sit up straighter when Eddie finally kills the engine. For a moment, without the steady, rolling hum, the car is filled with the small, tiny whines Steve makes on each exhale. Like it hurts to even breathe.

“Wha’s wrong?” He asks, but Eddie can’t really hear him. Can’t turn to him, can’t— “Eddie?”

He’s out of the car before he can take hold of another thought, stumbling out of his open door on legs that feel numb and heavy. The urge to cry is back again, the burning in his eyes only getting worse when Wayne takes in the dried blood on his clothes and hands with careful, calculated worry.

“Ed?”

“I didn’t know what— where—- I’m… Wayne, I’m sorry.”

“Slow down, kid,” Wayne says, raising his hands as if to calm a spooked deer. Like Eddie is the one who needs his help. And he is. He really, really is, and he shouldn’t be, because this isn’t about him, but—

Wayne grabs him by the shoulders to keep him still, and only now does Eddie realise he’s shaking again, restlessly moving his weight from one leg to the other. His uncle steadies him, gently pressing down on his shoulders to ground him, and Eddie nearly sobs again.

“Ed. Are you in trouble?”

“No,” Eddie scrambles to say, becoming aware of what this looks like, hiding his hands behind his back on instinct, like that’ll make Harrington’s blood disappear. “‘S not my blood, I didn’t do anything, I swear! I swear. It’s, uh. I just found him. In the boathouse, I found him, and he was… God, he looked so bad, okay, but he didn’t want the hospital, and he was, like, so scared of something, and we don’t even talk, we don’t even look at each other, but I just… I didn’t know what to do, and you know something about concussions and people who were beat to shit and, again, I’m—“

“Eddie,” Wayne says, his voice so calm but so assertive that Eddie shuts up immediately, gladly handing over to controls to his uncle now. “Who’s the kid?”

He nods towards Eddie’s van, where Harrington looks to be halfway unbuckled, but his eyes are closed and his face smushed against the door again, like he just gave up.

“Shit,” Eddie says, adrenaline and panic slowly falling from him with Wayne’s hand on his shoulder. He sags into his uncle and rubs at his face. “It’s Steve. Uh, Steve Harrington, I mean.”

“Okay,” Wayne says, and he’s so calm. So calm. Eddie feels like he’s about to fall apart, and Wayne is the only one keeping him together, with that’d steady, warm hand on his shoulder. “And you promise me he didn’t give you trouble? Or anyone else who’ll come finish what they started?”

Eddie shakes his head profusely, getting a little dizzy with it. “I promise I’m not in trouble. He said Hagan did this to him, was alone when I found him. No trouble, Wayne, I swear, I’m not like that, you know I’m not.”

“Okay,” Wayne says again, and Eddie wants to weep. “I know you’re not like that, but some people are, y’know? You did good, son. You did good. Now help me get him out of that car.”

It takes his uncle tugging him towards the van for Eddie to kick back into motion, nearly falling over his feet turning back around. It’s only Wayne’s “Easy” murmured under his breath that keeps the ground from opening up and swallowing him whole.

He climbs in on the driver’s side while Wayne rounds the car and gets to Harrington’s side.

“Hey there, Blue,” Eddie says, his voice shaking and the nickname slipping again — but it’s easier to call him that than his real name, it’s easier to pretend it’s literally anyone else in here with him, bleeding against his door.

It’s easier to pretend it’s not Harrington’s breath rattling the way it does, easier to pretend those pained groans so high in their cadence they can only count as whines don’t come from Hawkins High’s Golden Boy who graduated a few months ago and was supposed to be done with bullshit like this.

“Come on, up you get,” he tells him, not daring to raise his voice too much.

He looks so frail. Like he’s already broken. Or like he’s trying not to. Like he’s holding on.

Eddie pretends not to think that the hand he places on Steve’s cheek to gently pry him from the window is not the only thing keeping that boy together right now.

Harrington groans, whines, wheezes, but opens his eyes to meet Eddie’s. Jesus, we’re they this blown before? Or this swollen?

“Hey,” Eddie says, just to say something. Just so he won’t have to hold the boy’s face in silence, just so he won’t have to focus on all the blood. Just so he won’t have to hear more questions that people aren’t supposed to ask.

Steve opens his mouth, his breath coming out a little sharper, like he wants to say Hi rather than Where am I? or When will it stop hurting? Like he wants to say How can I help you help me?

Somehow, Eddie manages a smile.

Wayne chooses that moment to open the door — just unclicking it, not pulling yet; giving Eddie enough time to support Harrington, make sure he doesn’t fall.

“Careful,” he whispers, though whether it’s for Wayne, for Steve, or for himself, he can’t quite tell. Maybe it’s a plea to the rest of the world, and to anyone else who will listen.

Steve is still staring at him. That’s probably not a good sign. He leans back a little, turning Steve’s head to make him follow him. Slowly, of course. Gently. Eddie can’t remember ever having touched something like it was going to break if only he looked at it wrong, but somehow he’s hyper-aware of it now.

Because Harrington is staring at him. Entirely too still, like he has no strength, no coordination to do anything but stare. And yet Eddie is the one who, now that the adrenaline has fallen from him, now that he can let someone else take over, now that Harrington doesn’t need him anymore, finds himself unable to look away.

Because Steve is just a boy. And so is Eddie, who can feel Steve’s breath against his wrist. And maybe, out of the two of them, Eddie is the fragile one. The one about to break.

“Blue, you with me?”

Steve nods. Doesn’t speak again. Doesn’t move. Eddie swallows, briefly looking back down at Wayne to see if he’s ready. His uncle nods, ready to catch Harrington should he go down, and Eddie turns back to the boy who’s smeared with his own blood.

“I’m gonna take off your seatbelt now, yeah?” he tells him, not entirely recognising his voice anymore. “That man out there, that is Wayne. My uncle. He’s safe. He’ll take care of you, okay?”

“Safe,” Steve breathes, and that shouldn’t be the one thing he focuses on. It shouldn’t sound so unsure. So insecure. So hopeful, so relieved, so— Fucking earnest.

Swallowing all these thoughts, all this desperation and all those questions, Eddie reaches over Steve, one hand still supporting his head and feeling the overheated skin of Harrington’s cheek against his palm, the hint of stubble and the crust of dried blood. As if in slow motion, not daring to make a wrong move and hurt him more than he already does, Eddie frees him the rest of the way, letting the seatbelt slide into its hold behind his shoulder.

“Careful,” he says again, just to say anything, but he is careful, and his hold on Steve is steady.

“‘M careful. Not gonna break, Eddie.”

“I know.” But maybe I will.

“Good. ‘Cause… Don’ wanna break.”

Eddie smiles, despite everything. “You’re not gonna break, Blue. Wayne’ll catch you.”

Harrington loses his focus then, his eyes glazing over, but the small smile on his lips widens. “Blue. ‘S nice.”

Yeah, Eddie thinks. He kinda is.

Somehow, miraculously, they get Harrington out of the van and into the trailer. He throws up halfway to the doorstep, and Eddie curses under his breath while Wayne talks quietly, asking him yes and no questions that Eddie can’t really hear through the ringing in his ears — a strange mix of fear and relief, a panic not quite over, but soothed by his uncle’s familiar voice; even if it’s not directed at him.

“Don’t worry about it, kid, the next rain’ll take care of that. Stop apologising.”

It throws him then, rather suddenly and violently, watching Wayne supporting Harrington, watching the blood smeared boy with the swelling, angry red bruises in his face. Somehow it’s different, seeing him in his home.

This was always a safe space. Always void of everything terrible.

And now there’s a broken boy on his doorstep who’s not Eddie.

He remembers the fear, the panic, the plea for no hospital, Eddie. Can’t go there.

Why not? You need a doctor—

Monsters. Only monsters there.

It paralyses him and he stays where he is, holding the door with an arm that’s heavy like lead, standing on legs that begin to go numb again. He watches, but not really, as Wayne sits Harrington down on the living room couch, between magazines and brochures and some of Eddie’s calculus notes from last night that he was searching for a sketch of a monster he was so certain he’d drawn in the margins a few weeks back.

Now there’s blood on his calculus notes. And Eddie is helplessly keeping the door open as though he’s going to run away any second now. Letting in more trouble to join Harrington on his couch.

He should… He should close the door. Help. Run. Disappear.

“Ed,” Wayne calls, snapping him out of his stupor. “The first aid kit, please. A bottle of water. A clean, wet cloth. A blanket, too.”

Wayne talks him through it, takes it one step at a time, has Eddie bring him one after the other like he knows how much he’s keeping his nephew together by keeping him on the brink of usefulness.

Soon, Wayne has everything he needs, taking care of Harrington and his wounds, keeping him awake and talking so much better than Eddie did, even making him smile here and there, hiding his wince when the motion pulls on his split lip or the huffed breath sends a jolt of pain through his rib that Eddie is absolutely certain must be broken with the way he holds himself — with the way he lets Wayne hold him up.

Wayne is doing his thing and Eddie is hiding, gripping the kitchen counter like a vice, staring both unseeingly and hyper-vigilantly as exhaustion washes over him, dragging him under and draining him of more than adrenaline. He slumps against the cupboard behind him, rubbing at his face like that’ll make it all go away.

It’s not right. It’s not. This is Eddie’s home, it’s supposed to be safe, it’s not…

He breaks away, ripping his hands from the counter and all but stumbling outside, heaving a deep breath and giving in to the urge to cry. Tears spring to his eyes and he wipes them away angrily, because it’s dumb, it’s so stupid, it’s absolutely fucking insane that he should be so worked up when Harrington talked about dying earlier.

These things don’t happen. They don’t!

“Stop fucking crying,” Eddie grumbles, sniffling and wiping away more tears as he closes his eyes against the afternoon sun. “Get a grip, Munson, Jesus Christ, there’s no reason to cry you big fuckin’ baby.”

Nobody’s there to contradict him. Nobody’s there to make it worse. So he lets his eyes sting for a while, lets his lips wobble, his jaw clenched shut, the balls of his hands pressing into his eyes, breathing deliberately.

In. Hold. Out. Hold.

He doesn’t even scream. Doesn’t punch the still bloody side of his van, doesn’t run into the woods and disappear into the void.

He simply breathes. Tries not to think about boys dying in mall fires, and even less so about boys beaten and abandoned in boat houses.

Doesn’t think about fucking Hawkins in Bumfuck-Indiana and the cursed way it has, driving its people mad.

Doesn’t think about, They said my brain is hurt, Eddie. Doesn’t think about the Monsters Harrington mentioned. Doesn’t think about Blue, doesn’t think about I’m tired, Eddie. Don’t wanna hurt anymore.

Doesn’t think about blue, blue, blue.

He’s shaking when he comes back inside. He’s shaking when Harrington meets his eyes, looking a little clearer now, the blood washed away and everything bandaged a lot better than Eddie managed. He’a bundled in Eddie’s blanket. It’s wrong. It’s so, so wrong.

Eddie can’t move, and neither does Steve.

“Steve,” Wayne says, waiting until those eyes tear themselves away from Eddie and back to him, though Eddie sees them fill with such trepidation, he almost asks what’s wrong. “I won’t hear a no on this, and I won’t let you go home. I’m taking you to the hospital. Especially if you tell me your head was hurt like this before, more times than one.”

“Three,” Blue breathes, a little dazed still. Not magically healed, not even from Wayne. Another thing that doesn’t feel right.

“Three times,” Wayne says, nodding, like he’s encouraging Steve to continue.

“But I don’t want a hospital.” Again with that tiny fucking voice. Like the Monsters are hiding under hospital beds.

“I know, son,” Wayne sighs, tugging the blanket a little tighter around Steve, and Eddie’s eyes begin to sting again when he notices the tone Wayne uses. When he realises. When he remembers.

”I want my mom.“

”I know, son. But she’s not coming. Your mama is gone, Ed, and this is your home now. Think we can make that work, hm? You and I?”

Eddie had never felt so lost as he did then, clutching his blanket to his chest, burying his face in the wet fabric even as this man — his uncle — tugs it tighter around him. Like he is fine with Eddie wanting to hide as long as he doesn’t run away.

He had shrugged, then, even though we wanted to shake his head, tell him no, tell him he wanted his mama.

”I’m scared, uncle Wayne.”

And Wayne had smiled a little, and nodded. “Then we do it scared, Eddie.”

Actually, Eddie feels like he never stopped doing it scared.

And now there is Steve, who Eddie never believed knew what being scared felt like. It’s dumb, of course, because even Harrington is just a boy, but he was always untouchable to Eddie. They never talked. They never existed in the same space together, not in a good way and not in a bad way. Their worlds just never aligned, never collided, never coexisted.

And now…

“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen, okay? There’s a doctor, Doctor Clarke. Like— Yeah, like your science teacher, remember him? ‘S got a brother who’s just as much of a genius, and just as kind. He’ll take a look at you, yeah? Make sure your brain isn’t too hurt, clean your wounds, give you something for the pain. He won’t, uh. He won’t hurt you, kid. Whatever’s got you so scared, Dr Clarke will be nice to you. Especially when I’m there with ya, I’m an old pal of his. And I will be. Won’t let you outta my sight until you’re well enough to run away from me, you hear me, kid?”

Eddie’s hands are hurting, his fingertips raw from where he’s been biting his nails while Wayne talks Blue through what’s going to happen — and he wonders, with the way Steve’s eyes are glued to Wayne, if he ever had anyone talking him through shit like this.

“Okay,” Harrington breathes at last, still sounding way too small. “But. I’m…”

“Scared anyway?” Wayne offers. Steve nods. You’re so blue, Stevie. “Then we do it scared anyway.”

And they do. Wayne goes to get the car so Steve won’t have to walk too far, leaving Eddie alone with him for a brief moment.

He watches, from his place in the kitchen, how Steve’s face falls into a look of utter exhaustion and tiredness; the adrenaline washing from him just the same. Eddie wants to reach out. Wants to say something, break the spell of tension and silence and I know we don’t talk, but I’m glad you’re doing a little better. I’m glad you’ll go see a doctor. I’m glad you haven’t died, I guess. Do you really think you will? Are you really so scared of that?

But Eddie keeps biting his nails, and Steve keeps his eyes closed, blanket around his shoulders. And they don’t talk.

“Thank you.”

Eddie perks up, not entirely sure he didn’t imagine the words — but Harrington moved slightly, his eyes still closed but his face now turned towards Eddie.

“For, uh. This.”

“I didn’t do shit, Blue,” Eddie says. “That was all Wayne. All I did was freak out, I promise.”

Harrington shakes his head, though, slowly. “Mh-mm.”

Eddie’s mouth snaps shut, because there is no room for discussion here. They don’t talk. And he doesn’t want the bubble to burst with insecurity and sourness.

“Thank you,” he says again, and he sounds final about it. It makes Eddie wonder what he’s like, really like, when he doesn’t consist of pain and nausea and disorientation.

He has a feeling that, despite everything, despite Monsters under hospital beds and torture in boathouses and mall fires that kill teenagers, Blue Harrington might be someone good to talk to. Compassionate as shit, even when all he wants to do is pass out.

“You’re welcome,” Eddie rasps, pretending that his eyes don’t sting.

He wraps his arms around his chest like he’s hugging himself, or like he’s holding himself back. From reaching out, from asking, from telling, from talking.

Unwittingly, even with his eyes closed, Steve mirrors him, and Eddie wonders if he, too, it holding himself back, or just curling in on himself some more even though it must hurt, feeling so small.

Maybe that’s what fear of death does to a nineteen year-old. It’s so fucked up. Eddie wants to scream again.

Outside, he hears a car door fall shut just before Wayne reappears in the door, giving Eddie some kind of meaningful look that he wouldn’t mind deciphering on any other day, but today he fears he needs words.

“I don’t know how long this’ll take. Will you be okay, Ed?”

“Will I be— Yes! I’m not the one with the concussion, man, of course I’ll be—“

It’s a bluff, comes too fast, and Wayne sees right through it before Eddie even realises it, and he steps closer. A warm hand on his shoulder. His eyes stinging again.

“You did good, kid. Everything will be fine. But it might take a while. It’s fine if you need to go somewhere, just… Don’t drive. Call Jeff if you need someone, just. Don’t do anything stupid. And don’t get behind the wheel. Deal?”

Eddie swallows hard, hit by another desperate, aching wave of I wanna go back in time and skip this day. A wave of tired exhaustion and wondering, aimlessly, just who the fuck Steve Harrington really is.

“Deal,” he says, and Wayne pulls him into a hug.

Eddie follows them outside then, trailing behind them like a lost little puppy, helping Harrington into Wayne’s car. His movements are still slugged and a little disoriented, so Eddie decides to lean in again and fasten his seatbelt.

“Careful,” he mumbles, allowing the boy a moment’s warning, a moment to adjust before the weight settles on his chest.

Dejá-vù hits him and makes him pause, with Harrington staring at him again.

“I’m careful,” he says, the corners of his mouth tugging into a little smile.

More lucid than earlier, and Eddie thinks it that which takes his breath away for a moment.

“Not gonna break, Eddie.”

“I know,” he says, still not moving back, instead reaching up to tighten the blanket around his shoulders even though the seatbelt is already there to hold it in place. “You’re not gonna break, Blue.”

The smile on those lips is genuine now, gentle enough to not be ruined by the blood crusting them.

“Thanks. Again.” And then, when Eddie finally pulls away to close the door and tell Wayne to drive safely, “I really do like that name.”

It soothes the urge to scream.

Eddie closes the door as gently as he can — which isn’t much, because the car is old and not exactly smooth.

“I’ll see you later,” he tells Wayne. Promises. To stay out of trouble, to stick around, to not run away for a while again, to stay out of his car.

Wayne nods, a faint smile on his lips.

“Later, Ed.”

And then they’re gone, and Eddie is untethered again. Wonders, for a few seconds every now and then if it really happened, if this is real.

But it did. And it is.

And after sitting on the steps for a while, having a smoke and staring at where Wayne’s car disappeared ten, twenty, forty minutes ago, Eddie heads inside.

He has a phone call to make.

🤍🌷 tagging: @theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 (a thousand percent sure i missed some but oh well such is the 3am disease)

addendum 22 jan 24: onwards to part 3

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington whump #this is so long i am SORRY #i hope tagging y'all was okay (and equally i'm hoping i missed nobody but also it is 3am)#who did this to you #most of y'all will know most of the beginning already maybe i should have split it up but i wanted y'all to have Something New too #and then the Something New got out of hand and oh well :(#dio words

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artificialbreezy · 18 days ago

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here is the full fledged version of THIS

thanks @thefallennightmare for the endless brain rot. i hope you scream as much as i did

if this sucks? i don’t care LOL i had fun

CW: mean!davis, mean!noah, threesome, DVP (i won’t apologize), some things that could be read as dubious content (there is consent fully written, and a safe word set up never fear), rough boys (a couple pinchings) cum as lube, filth, more filth and filth.

I don’t know how this happened. I don’t know how I ended up in Davis’s bed. I don’t know how I ended naked, in front of 2 sets of hungry eyes, but here I am.

“You sure you’re okay with this honey?” Noah’s voice was soft, laced with concern. “We can stop at any time, promise. Traffic light system okay? Green is good, yellow is reel back and red is full stop. Won’t be mad at all no matter what. This is for you.”

“I want this. I want both of you. Whatever you wanna give me, please.” I spoke. Confident in my decision. Trusting my two friends in front of me.

“You heard her Davis, go on then.”

Eyes covered, hands trapped above my head. Two hands resting on each thigh. My senses were deprived and overwhelmed all at the same time.

“You think she can figure out who’s tongue is abusing her cunt, Noah?” His voice was evil. “Or you think she’s just a whore who can’t make up her mind on who she wants to fuck?”

“Now Davis, I think we both know she doesn’t want to choose. Think she wants both of us, and I think we’d be dumb to not give it to her.” Noah’s voice was softer, more understanding as his hand ran up the inside of my thigh. Stopping right where I needed him. “I mean, I can already feel the mess she’s making. Just imagine the mess she’ll make when we’re both inside her.”

They talked about me almost as if I wasn’t there. Like I was just some doll laying before them, ready for the taking.

Noah’s finger went up and up and up, so slowly until he settled it right against my clit. “She’s real fucking swollen, dude. Think she needs some sort of relief, don’t you? Just needs a little—“ voice cut off as his thumb and forefinger pinched.

“Ow- Fuck!” I yelped, trying to pull my hips away.

“Hey, you’re alright. Breathe. Just getting you warmed up, still green?”

“Yes, Noah.”

I felt a pair of hands press my hips back down to the bed. Holding them in place, while the warmth of a tongue dragged a wet strip from my thigh directly to my clit.

Suddenly all feeling was gone, no hands or tongues were on my body.

“We’re gonna play a little game, we’re gonna see if you really can figure out who’s who. If you get it right, you can have both of us together. Right,” two hands made their way to settle against my core. “Here. Only wanna hear your sweet noises unless we ask you a question. If you need to stop, speak up. Don’t be afraid to do so.” Davis’s voice echoed in the small room.

As soon as his voice stopped, I felt one of them press against my entrance. Hearing a groan as their finger slowly sank inside of me. A small gasp came out of me, instinctively moving my hips up. Wanting more.

A second finger worked its way from my clit down to push it’s way in. “Fuck this, I’m not staying quiet.” Davis grumbled. “You’re so fucking tight, baby. How do you think you’re gonna fit both of us in here today huh? I think we’re gonna have to work you up to that.” His fingers kept moving, “really I think we’re just gonna have to turn you into our proper slut. Don’t you Noah? Think we can train her to be exactly what we want her to be? Do exactly what we want?”

There was a chuckle directly where I heard Davis. “Think she’s got some real potential, Davis. I think she just needs some time, and then she’ll be our perfect little cock sleeve. Whenever we want her to be. Gonna make sure everyone knows she’s ours, ain’t that right? Go take her blind fold off. Want her to see us taking turns with her.”

Davis was right by my head, “Hi honey, lean forward for me.” I lifted my head as I felt Noah spit onto my cunt. A loud gasp was all I could mutter. Just as he used his cock to spread his own saliva and push just the tip.

“Fuck, fuck, — Noah!” My voice was shaky and uneven.

“Oh there you go, there she is. Come on baby, relax for me. Never gonna be able to fit us in here if you don’t relax.”

Davis worked his way to sit against the bed frame, and rest my head in his lap. “Right here sweetheart, I got you. Relax for him, yeah? Want my thumb? Will that keep you relaxed?” I nodded up at the man. His thumb resting gently on my lips.

My mouth fell open as Noah pushed himself further in. “See? Let me in just fine when you’re not thinking. Just needed to get that dumb brain out of the equation. Good thing you have Davis up there. Say thank you, baby. Use your manners.”

“Th-thank you.”

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my head. “We got you.”

Noah’s hands had a vice grip on my waist, pulling himself out and back in over, and over. The only sounds in the room were my moans, and the slick of each thrust from him.

“I’m- fuck. Close baby. Gotta stop.” Noah groaned as he started to pull himself out.

“No!! Don’t want you to. Please. It’s okay, got the pill. Please Noah.” Tears were starting to swell in my eyes. I never needed something so bad.

It seems like that was all Noah needed, he thrusted back in and lifted my hips just enough that he hit a spot you didn’t know you had. No noises could come out, mouth just hanging open while Noah grumbled as he held your hips as close to him as he could.

“Davis, shit dude. Get over here.” Noah spoke in between his breaths. Holding himself completely still inside of me.

As soon as Davis was next to Noah, all I could hear was mumbling. Not fully able to make out what they were saying.

“Alright baby, we’re gonna try something okay? Davis is gonna try to fit in. Just gotta see how much practice you need. Breathe, just breathe. It’s gonna sting a little, but you call the shots. If it hurts you call red and we’ll be all done.”

I felt Noah pull himself back just enough that Davis had some room to push himself forward. Trying to remind yourself to breathe. The stretch of both of them hurt so good. The stretch felt right. Like they were meant to be there.

“Shit, look at her. She’s just sucking us in. Almost like her cunt was made for this. Christ, honey. You feel so good. So fucking good. Don’t think I can live without doing this again. Hope you know that. Hope you know this cunt? No one’s touching it besides us. You’re ours. No one else’s.” Davis was rambling.

He couldn’t help it, his eyes were locked at where him and Noah were connected inside of me.

Noah’s hand lifted to rub soft circles on my clit. Moving his hips so slowly. “Wanna feel you cum around us, you can do it baby. Soon as you cum we’ll get you in the bath and clean you up. Get you right into bed.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” My eyes screwed shut. Body starting to shake.

“There she is. There she is.” Noah’s hands picked up the pace, Davis hand rubbing soft circles on my thigh.

“You did so good, baby. So good. Okay, I'm gonna pull out first. Then I'll get a towel, okay?” Davis spoke as he slowly pulled himself out.

Noah’s eyes never left my face, “thank you. For trusting us, letting us make your fantasy come true.”

“Noah,”

“Yeah?”

“Davis?”

“Yes love?”

“Wanna do this again. And again.”

There was laughter at the end of the bed.

“Happily honey. but first, let’s get you cleaned up. We can talk about logistics tomorrow.” Davis spoke.

#bad omens smut #bad omens headcanons #noah sebastian smut #bad omens blurb #noah sebastian headcanons #noah sebastian blurb #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens blurbs #davis rider smut #davis rider blurb #davis rider headcanon

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klausysworld · 2 years ago

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hello !! i was wondering if you could do a friends to lovers angst with a happy ending fic with klaus and gender neutral reader??

Always and Forever.

Being Klaus Mikaelson’s best friend has its issues lets say. You know with the permanent target on my back and his siblings always needing me to sort him out. It gets a little ridiculous. But i kinda signed up for it so eh what you gonna do?

Im a werewolf, Klaus and i met through Hayley when she wanted me to help look after Hope. Once Hope was born the Mikaelsons began taking out their enemies one by one so that when Hope grows up she can be safe. I’m an emotional support animal for them most of the time and i got used to that role. They all tell interesting stories anyway as they’re like a million. Klaus has just always been my favourite though, like have you seen him?? yea he’s fucking hot. Accent? to die for. He paints his feelings and is a great dad, if i didn’t know he was a psychotic serial killing original hybrid id be screaming husband material…sooo

So i have like a teensy crush on him. It’s not like im gonna get with him though, its just a you’re cute and i see you all the time and you make me blush and make me feel butterflies in my stomach and i think about you all the time kind of thing you know?

doesn’t matter. Anyway… right now im sat with hope in the play room. We’re both sat on a big beanbag reading kids books, she’s learning how to read and spell so it’s fairly amusing listening to her pronounce it.

Halfway through the book there was a loud slamming and a mix of all the siblings yelling, Klaus’s being the most heard as usual

“hope honey? you keep reading okay? im gonna be right back yea?” i told her and hiss her temple

“bye bye y/n, don’t get mad at dada he gets sad when your mad” i smiled at her and waved as i closed the door so she couldn’t hear the argument

i made my way down the stairs and to the main room where Klaus was pointing a dagger at Rebekah while Elijah was cautiously making his way closer to Niklaus

“ah shit” i whispered but they all heard me and heads turned to me. Klaus visibly gulped and hesitated when on his grip of the dagger, he didn’t like me to see his violent side knowing that i was someone who actually liked him it scared him that i would leave too

“love, you need to go back with Hope for a bit please.” i kept my eyes trained on his as i neared the situation, Elijah took a step towards Rebekah so they could make a run for it when Nik was in a less aggressive position

“can we talk about what you want to do before you do it? Hopes waiting for you, she wants to read you a story, she’s getting really good at her big words now” i could see his face softening, he glanced at the floor for a second before nodded stiffly, i put my hand out and he dropped the dagger into it, the other siblings sped out of the room immediately.

i took his hand and lead him up the stairs i stopped outside the play room and looked at him for a moment

“you can’t go in mad you know that…” he kept his eyes down as he nodded, it was then that he sniffed and i noticed the tears in his eyes

“hey, it’s okay, come on, come here” i brought to his room instead and sat him down on his bed, i put the dagger somewhere on his shelf and moved to lay down on his bed, i tugged his arm making him lay with his head on my shoulder and his arm across my body while he curled into my side. i pet his hair and rubbed his back

“don’t be sad honey, you’re too pretty to pout” i felt his tears hit my skin and held him tighter

“i can’t keep either of you safe, not…you and not Hope, i c..i can’t” i kissed his head softly and squeezed his arm

“you are doing such a great job nik, Hope and i both know how hard you’re working, everyone is gonna keep her safe, you are doing so well, i promise you that” he made a little noise, somewhat like a whimper that i don’t think he meant to let out

“but you’re not safe, you’re never safe anymore. It’s because of me and we both know that” i shook my head and sat us both up, i cupped his face between my hands and stroked his stubble

“im here by my choice, i want to be here. You don’t need to worry about me okay?” tears seemed to never stop falling from his pastel blue eyes

“i can’t lose you” he whispered making my heart break, i brought his face closer to mine and kissed his forehead

“you won’t, im staying”

“you promise?”

“you want me to give you my word all Elijah style?”

he laughed at that and nodded resting his head against mine

“i, as an honorary Mikaelson, give you, Niklaus Mikaelson, my very special, ultra powerful word that i will never, ever leave you. I love you.” he was smiling wide and laughing

“mmm that was very ultra specially powerful i must say, and i love you too” i laughed with him and wrapped my armed around his neck

“mm yes Mr Mikaelson only the uttermost best for you, my lord” i spoke in a mocking accent and threw my head back dramatically

“you are amazing you know that?” he spoke in a hushed tone and i nodded with a warm smile

“I love you.” his face was serious as he said it making me giggle

“uhuh i love you too we say it all the time” he shook his head and pulled me closer

“you don’t understand, i love you, not like you’re my friend and i love you like, i want to be with you and marry you love you!” he didn’t give me a chance to respond before his lips were on mine, i kissed back as fast as possible as we melted against each other

“i love love you too Nik, remember if you marry me its gotta be always and forever though and i expect a ring” he chuckled to that and nodded hastily

“ the best ring, the best dress, the best everything for you my love, always and forever”

i was smiling ear to ear as i nodded

“We need to go see Hope”

“I think she’s listening at the door..”

little giggles sounded through the room as she launched herself at us both

“i wanna be a flower girl!!”

we all stayed up late reading stories with hope and looking at engagement rings, supernatural war or not, we would stay together. Always and forever.

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chidoroki · 1 year ago

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182 Days of TPN - Day 92

Chapter 92: “Fire Away”

I love how everyone is genuinely impressed (and maybe a bit scared) by Adam’s strength. Also, I know this may not be the best time to wonder about this with all the chaos of the battle going on, but did Emma or Ray never actually hear him mutter Norman’s number? Even when back at the shelter? Granted, the duo were out searching for the Seven Walls majority of the time, but still. Not even one of the other GF kids managed to catch him saying the number out loud? Eh whatever, I dunno why this thought is suddenly coming to me now of all times.

Who is the real beast here, the demon flying through the air or the young mad lad who managed to punch him all the way up there? The kids are totally speechless and ya can’t blame them. Seeing Leuvis get tossed around like a rag doll is quite the sight.

Even Leuvis is overwhelmed by Adam. Poor Palvus could’ve easily avoided this flight if the little guy just let go. Kinda funny how Violet had no idea where Adam came from or when he appeared at GP yet Leuvis figured it in just a couple minutes. Yeah Violet doesn’t know about Lambda (at least I don’t think Emma shared that specific info from the pen with everyone else yet, instead focusing on the battle preparations) but Leuvis can barely see with his blurry vision and that was enough for him to piece it together somehow. Hell, it might not even be due to Adam’s crazy strength or the Lambd mark on his chest, but the fact he’s muttering Norman’s number? And perhaps Leuvis think this is Norman instead? I dunno, I’m having many odd, pointless thoughts so far.. ain’t that fun.

Leuvis must’ve ate a cat at some point since he still managed to land on his feet after taking countless shots midair.

You know it’s a problem when you find the villains relatable.

Ah, here’s the panel of Ray reloading. And Leuvis saying “my dear” is definitely something I don’t remember?? Oh my, this dude could be such a gentleman in literally any other kind of scenario ahhaha.

A fair attempt I suppose but y’all already know how much he is relying on sound now ever since the first flash bomb! That’s how Leuvis managed to take out Pepe! Even Palvus learned from the first mistake and is shielding his own eyes!

Yuugo’s jaw-dropping shot causing some damage outside the panel.

Leuvis is so darn clever bro. All he’s doing is dodging to buy some time before his sight and wounds regenerate and yet he’s still causing the kids to slip up and remain cautious.

How he can still manage to send Adam flying into the building with so much force when he can barely see and with his arm completely busted?? Leuvis is incredible and I really should’ve kept this psycho in my top ten like I originally planned.

Favorite panel/moment:

Okay, all things considered with how beat up Leuvis currently is, it’s insane that he moved fast enough and dealt such a fatal strike to his prime target. On the flip side however, this hurts SO MUCH! AAHH our poor girl!! I was beyond speechless upon reaching this moment for the first time because I had literally no idea how Emma could recover from this. To make matters worse, I distinctly remember when I read these past few chapters one morning and said to myself, “eh, I’ll read one more before I start work,” and lo and behold, this just so happened to be the moment I had to leave off on! Probably the worst kind of cliffhanger.. I was filled with anxiety and my mind was literally racing all day until my lunch break where I could finally see if this precious girl was gonna be okay.

As terrifying and worrisome as this moment is, it’s still one I was looking forward to the most had season two been animated correctly. The shock value alone of seeing the main character be impaled would’ve definitely made all viewers, whether mange reader or anime-only, freak out (myself included. especially if they blasted her “63194” theme here!) Also, would’ve loved to hear all the panic in Ray’s scream.

#the promised neverland #tpn manga #182daysoftpn #chidoroki used chatter

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haikyuu-boys-headcanons · 4 years ago

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𝙷𝙰𝙸𝙺𝚈𝚄𝚄 𝙱𝙾𝚈𝚂 - 𝚃𝚈𝙿𝙴𝚂 𝙾𝙵 𝙿𝙾𝚁𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈'𝙳 𝚆𝙰𝚃𝙲𝙷

hello everyone! yes this is a weird topic but i know we’re all just secretly wondering it so i’m gonna write about it. AND plus y’all this is super long, so the rest of the boys are just under the cut :)

ᴛᴡ:... ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛʜɪɴɢ’ꜱ ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ꜱᴏ ʏᴇᴀʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ɪᴛ :)

𝙳𝙰𝙸𝙲𝙷𝙸 » pretty vanilla, might watch low-key classic kinky videos with the iconic fluffy handcuffs and velvet blindfold. secretly really into the daddy kink videos, but he’ll never admit that out loud

𝚂𝚄𝙶𝙰𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙰 » homemade videos are his go to. he hates all that fake, company generated bullshit (e.g; brazzers) he loves the rawness and passion of the homemade videos, videos where you can tell that the people involved love each other

𝙰𝚂𝙰𝙷𝙸 » boy probably has a panic attack every time he opens up pornhub. really into the sensual blowjob videos where there’s like a calming river sound in the background, no dirty talk. just a blowjob in nature :)

𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙺𝙰 » everything. there is nothing he hasn’t watched out of pure boredom. everything’s hot. lesbian threesome? check. mature adults pissing? check. it’s actually a little worrying how much he’s watched

𝙽𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚈𝙰 » anything with a uniform, please this boy’s so thirsty to see someone in a school girl uniform getting off. he probably gets in his old school uniform to enhance the whole experience

𝙺𝙰𝙶𝙴𝚈𝙰𝙼𝙰 » oh god, the ‘jerk off with me’ videos that are usually promoted in the porn ads. he probably has like 30 virus’s attacking his laptop while he’s jerking off to some chick jerking off on a loop

𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙰 » anything with tig ol biddies. probably the most likely out of all the boys to just search up ‘boobies’ on pornhub. his taste is just... tiddies? probably into the riding POVs where you can see the girl’s tiddies bounce

𝚃𝚂𝚄𝙺𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙼𝙰 » likes the ones where the girls get all twitchy and shaky before they cum, like the innocent masturbation ones with the weirdly realistic dildos. he imitates the pace they go at and everything + edging videos

𝚈𝙰𝙼𝙰𝙶𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙸 » you know the casting couch videos? where the girl’s just sitting there, answering questions and she’s like super shy?? and then she starts stripping and probably ends up fucking the casting person??? yeah, tadashi’s super into that

𝙾𝙸𝙺𝙰𝚆𝙰 » the first time videos of like, anything. first time squirter? first time anal? first time having sex in general? he thinks it’s actually quite beautiful to see their raw reactions

𝙸𝚆𝙰𝚉𝚄𝙼𝙸 » twitter porn. do i really have to explain this one? the shit you’ll find on twitter is rawer and more realistic then any other porn you’ll find. probably follows thousands of those dom/sub accounts

𝙼𝙰𝚃𝚂𝚄𝙺𝙰𝚆𝙰 » anything with a girl getting destroyed by a huge cock. real cock or fake cock, doesn’t matter. anal or vaginal, doesn’t matter. hits even harder when it’s the girl’s first time, now that shit’s really hot to him

𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙸 » the risky public sex videos are his go to. like the ones where the guy/girl are in a public bathroom or something, and they have to cover their mouths so no one will hear them. he probably tried to recreate one of them and ended up getting arrested

𝙺𝚄𝙽𝙸𝙼𝙸 » JOI (jerk off instructions) vids turn him on the most. it truly breaks the 4th wall barrier and makes it feel more... intimate in a way. likes it even more when the girls masturbating while she’s instructing him

𝙺𝚈𝙾𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙸 » painals. this one’s just self explanatory, loves the way the girl just gets destroyed.

𝙺𝚄𝚁𝙾𝙾 » those fancy ass, 4K quality sensual videos with like top quality mics and 80 difference close up angles. probably pays for pornhub premium. also those office/business negotiations that turn sexual make him nut in like 0.4 seconds

𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙼𝙰 » the classic cam girl vids. he probably donates to heaps of cam girls, but he has his favorites. especially the live ones with the vibrator that works off donations. in one hand, his cock and in the other, his credit card

𝙻𝙴𝚅 »...i’m not even gonna lie, this boy is probably into the tacky fake ass company shit where the girl’s gorilla screaming over a finger in her ass. even the compilations with shitty music in the back turn him on.

𝙱𝙾𝙺𝚄𝚃𝙾 » gangbangs. there’s just so much going on, it’s so exciting !! it’s never boring + it’s messy. he really likes the fact that there’s just bodily fluids everywhere, covering everything and everyone

𝙰𝙺𝙰𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸 » doesn’t even watch porn, he reads hardcore smut. probably reads porn with a plot because he’s classy like that, “her juicy core pulsated around his thick, juicy member” let’s all pray he never actually says that during sex

𝙺𝙾𝙽𝙾𝙷𝙰 » watches those really mean videos with spitting and hardcore degrading. preferably, he chooses one couple to subscribe to and watch. it just makes it way more sensual!

𝚄𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙹𝙸𝙼𝙰 » probably doesn’t watch porn, who wants to bet he just stares at the ceiling and beats his meat? okay, but if he did watch porn, he’d just click any of the random ass videos on the recommended like the himbo he is

𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙾𝚄 » okay, y’all already knew this was coming. kinky ass mf watches anything, but mainly watersports and squirting. likes watching the ‘accidental’ squirting/watersports ones

𝚂𝙴𝙼𝙸 » the retro 70s/90s shit that was most definitely filmed on cassette tapes. he claims that they’re so passionate and raw, and something about how the purity of the older times being destroyed is... really hot

𝙶𝙾𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙺𝙸 » really loves the diversity and individuality of the dom/sub dynamic. watches plenty of couples that do homemade dom/sub shit. he probably also always subscribes to their sfw vlogging channel bc why not

𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚄𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙼𝙰 » i feel like this is really obvious but definitely the girl-on-girl shit. he probably watches the company lesbian shit with the horrible acting and again the gorilla screaming

𝚂𝙰𝚂𝚄𝙺𝙰 » shower sex? shower sex. for obvious reasons, it’s just much more sanitary and pleasurable to watch. no disgusting sweat, no cum stains on their clothes. it just gives him a headache thinking about how long it’ll take to get the stains out

𝙰𝚃𝚂𝚄𝙼𝚄 » just watches the iconic porn stars on repeat. abella danger, diamond jackson, lela star, ect... but seceretly, he loves movie sex scenes the most. like he would most definitely watch them on repeat. it’s just so much more realistic!

𝙾𝚂𝙰𝙼𝚄 » loves the ones with the nasty, heavy audio; clapping, dirty talk, squelching. the sound of two sweaty bodies humping each other gets him off so easily. oh and + food porn

𝚂𝚄𝙽𝙰 » cumshot compilations. any site, it doesn’t matter. especially when its on the girl’s back or just over her pussy, that shit’s hot HOT. he’s also subscribed to a certain someone’s only fans

the end :p

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emonaculate · 4 years ago

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Streamer!Eren headcanons

❥ AU: Modern!AU

❥ Genre: Fluff

❥ Rating: Anyone can read

❥ Pairings: Streamer!Eren x Black!Reader

❥ Author Note: Ive been having the biggest brain rot about streamer!eren cause i just feel in my bones, it would be perfect for him so here are some head canons.

inspired by @sleepysnk

Eren would play any game that peaks his interest, but gets the most views when he plays any horror game, minecraft, or among us.

Its mainly due to how serious he gets when he rages over losing/dying or getting a jump scare.

"SON OF A BITCH! WHERE THE FUCK DID THAT ZOMBIE EVEN COME FROM?"

"Eren babe, not so loud."

"Sorry beautiful."

There are tons of video compilations dedicated to you walking in to shush him

His fans ADORE you

Most of them are baffled that Eren is in an interracial relationship but quickly grow used it after seeing your interactions

He often answers questions surrounding your relationship without invading what you want to keep private.

He would 100% let you sit in his lap whilst streaming

His views always rise when you are there, people just like seeing the adorable banter and romance

Everyone can tell how much he loves you

Literally he will visibly soften whenever you enter his line of view

Demands kisses whenever you enter or leave his "office"

If you ever miss a kiss, he will take a break from his stream and track you down

Plays with Jean, Connie, and Armin often

Plays with you too and gets super overprotective if anyone kills you in a game.

Once the entire gang played Among Us together and Eren went completely batshit after finding out Reiner and Bertholdt were the imposters that killed you.

The next round he is the imposter.

"And I took that personally."

He's oddly the scariest imposter.

For some reason, he becomes rational but manages to hide it well behind his usual hotheadness.

Still would never kill you tho <3

He would completely obliterate you in minecraft however

"eren stop I only have one heart left. you play too much."

"you didnt seem to mind playing when you hit me into lava... I lost all my fucking diamonds so you know what they say... hasta la vista baby"

Sucks at building but sucks at mining as well

usually fights mobs all night to stack up xp

says he's training to fight the dragon

swears he'll slay all creepers

deathly afraid of endermans

when they pop up, his screams are girly and loud

"HOLY SHIT. NO NO NO RUN YOU DAMN MIDGET! FUCKING MOVE!"

when he isn't fighting, he'll gather flowers for you and constantly leave them in places for you to find around your house

"Thanks for the flowers baby, yellow is still my favorite."

"I know princess."

he also puts gifts in your chests even though he sucks at mining, because you deserve the best.

Eren is pretty perverted and though he doesnt look at his stream chat often, whenever he sees any comments about your body or how lucky he is, all he does is grin knowingly and mumble "all mine."

HATES whenever people make it a big deal that you're black

addresses it once and swears if shit starts up again, he'll leave forever and never come back despite streaming being something he loves

will never tolerate racism or hearing stereotypes toward you EVER, even if its unintentional, pops off ever mfing time.

"Whether or not that's her real hair, it doesn't fucking concern you. Stop asking when you clearly look like you have uneven extensions, Brittany. Mind your fucking business."

"Baby chill, maybe she was just asking a honest questions."

"Nah fuck that. I don't give a damn, don't worry about whats in my baby's head."

You know those social media stars, who turn the cheek and allow people to say rude and hateful shit?

Yeah thats not Eren, he will always clap back harder and its beyond disrespectful.

"How are you gonna tell me to kill myself, when your bio literally says fly high mom? You must want me to pay her a visit or something."

"I'm too short? Well I think my height is just fine compared to your brother who seems to be just below six feet."

He has been cancelled TOO many times

its always for stupid shit

for being able to speak Japanese despite being a white man

for thinking pineapple on pizza is good

for liking Pepsi over coke

for pouring his milk in before his cereal

His COD lobby trash talk; while he doesn't say slurs or racist remarks, its too damn vulgar. He was built for that lobby 😭😭

His trash talking is elite and most times you can hear the person he is shit talking on the verge of crying. Its so fucking brutal.

In the same breath, he turn around and ask for kisses from you, as if he didn't make someone rethink being born.

That side only pops out when he is extremely pissed and he tries to avoid ever getting that mad because he knows words can hurt.

AN ADVOCATE FOR THE LGBTQ+ COMMUNITY

Gets super confused whenever someone asks what his thoughts on the community are.

"Love who you want, why the fuck should I worry about what some else gets off to?"

"If dicks makes you hard, cool. If pussy get you off, me too, lets be friends. Sexuality shouldn't matter people, grow tf up."

Donates a huge sum of the money he earns to different causes such as: cleaning up the polluted ocean charities, Black lives matter, protect Asian lives, and feed the hungry.

Basically he's caring and just wants to help despite his impulsive personality.

Once a month, he visits orphanages to talk to the kids, no camera no video nothing just to hang with the kids.

The only way his followers find out is because others posting about it.

Overall, Eren is in love with what he does and you, but if he had to pick, he'd choose you every single day over and over again <3

#streamer!eren #eren x black reader #eren yeager x black reader #tw: mentions of stereotyping #among us #attack on titan #eren jaeger #black reader #fem black reader #brain rot #eren is so cute #eren headcanons

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artzee-bee · 3 years ago

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End of all things [2] | Chat Noir x witch!reader

Fandom: MIraculous Ladybug (Adrien Agreste/ Chat Noir)

Request:”Hello good evening, could you please do where a witch!Reader who always tries to comfort Chat/Adrian when he is feeling down. Cuz you know in season 4 I noticed he’s getting sadder and sadder. The reader doesn’t like to get involved in all these weird happenings and just lay low. Whenever Chat/Adrian comes to the reader’s house they always make him feel at home. That's when things go off, at the final battle where Hawkmoth got the Miraculouses and the heroes thought they would lose. (Y/n) just landed in front of them looking so done with Hawkmoth.Hawkmoth thinks that (y/n) was just a weakling, but he was wrong. (Y/n) is far stronger than Hawkmoth even he will use the all Miraculouses he’ll still lose.”

Genre: Angst

Warnings: canon typical violence

A/N: It is incredibly late right now, I hope this piece makes sense and that you like it! It was a cool request, but complicated for sure :))

Part 1

~~~

You could have sworn that time stopped altogether at that moment. Somehow, even though the disappointment of having lost and the worry you felt for your best friend, you found a little power to look at Hawkmoth. You expected him to be joyful, restless! You expected him to have already put on both the miraculouses and yet, they were resting in his palm. His eyes weren’t even on them.

“Adrien?” he looked at the broken boy on the ground

“We’re not over yet!” he yelled, running towards Hawkmoth as fast as he could, but it didn’t matter how much will to fight he had anymore! Adrien’s body was going numb. It was giving up on him. And Hawkmoth was gaining more power and energy with every second that went by. The villain grabbed the boy by the shoulder, immobilizing him to his chest, the same way you had done with Marinette

“You are weak and powerless without your ring, boy. Stop it at once!”

“No!” the desperation in his voice made your heart crumble

You felt Marinette stir in your hold. You knew she must have been awake and watching by now, but you didn’t let go. You had been unable to protect Chat from losing his powers, from wasting his energy by squirming in the arms of the enemy. You’ll be damned if you let anything happen to Ladybug now! Because even if this was the end, even if they’d never get their powers back, Marinette and Adrien will always be Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Tears fell from your face as you watched your friend kick and scream in fear and frustration. His hair was sticking to his forehead with beads of sweat

You weren’t sure what you could read within Hawkmoth’s facial expression, but you could tell it wasn’t the confidence from a minute ago. Neither the focus. You could still do something! Under your breath, you began to mutter a chant. You had never tried this specific spell before, but there was nothing left to lose. It was supposed to attract an object of your choosing, to you. Focusing on the image of the miraculouses, held captive in Hawkmoth’s iron grip, you prayed it’d work.

“I don’t want to have to kill you Adrien!” finally, the boy managed to escape and take a few steps back

“What do you care? Just a moment ago you would have done anything it took to get rid of me and Marinette!”

Hawkmoth turned around to face you almost instantly, noticing the movement of your lips.

“Stop that!”

You saw his fist tighten and shake slightly. His fear was all the motivation you needed! Your chants grew louder and louder, more confident and powerful. Hawkmoth placed both his hands around the jewelry in an attempt to prevent it from reaching you. Finally, there was a chance you could still win this!

And then there was a hand on your mouth.

And a kick on the inside of your knee.

You fell to the ground in pain, as the person behind you pushed you harder against the concrete. Right then, was the first time you heard Marinette say anything that day.

“Rena?” her voice broken with despair

“I've never akumatized a hero before” you heard Hawkmoth’s taunting laugh “Can you imagine the possibilities Y/N?”

Tears were brimming in your eyes. Rena was forcing you to the ground with all her force. You heard Adrien call out your name, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You had to find a way out of this but exhaustion was catching up to you quickly. You weren’t used to fights! You weren’t used to such powerful spells within such a short period of time!

With all the strength in your body, you focused again on an imaginary spot, in the middle of it all. You closed your eyes and imagined the ball of energy growing bigger and bigger, somewhere between you and Hawkmoth. Winds picked up speed around you. You opened your eyes slightly, and all you could see was Marinette’s horrified look, but you didn’t care. Not anymore. As long as you were still conscious, the fight would go on. The ball of energy went off again, creating the same bomb effect as in the beginning of the fight. Rena flew off of you, allowing you to move just in time to see Hawkmoth fly into a tree, and drop not only the black cat and ladybug miraculouses, but the butterfly one as well.

It seemed like the magic brooch had come undone from the impact. All 3 jewels fell to the ground and Hawkmoth was swallowed by a purple light. As the detransformation came to an end, all that was left was an unconscious Gabriel Agreste

“Dad?” Adrien’s voice felt like a punch in the heart. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad. His eyes turned almost red and he took off running after his father, but you were faster and caught up to him before he could reach Gabriel. You tackled him to the ground to prevent him from waking up the villain and possibly causing more chaos.

“Wait, Adrien, we need the miraculouses!”

“No, what I need is to talk to my DAD!”

“Adrien please!” you could barely manage to keep him from squirming underneath you

“Of course” Marinette replied slowly before holding out her hand. You let go of Adrien, but he didn’t get up. He just placed his right hand on top of Marinette’s, as she carefully slipped the ring on his finger, back where it belonged.

You heard rapid footsteps come your way and saw Marinette run towards the miraculouses, picking all of them in her hand and hugging them to her chest.You couldn’t even imagine the relief she must have felt! She looked like finally, everything in the world was right again. It gave you hope! Adrien visibly relaxed as he watched her too.

“Can I have Plagg back?” he sobbed

Plagg flew out, looking sacred and in distress, but he tried to smile for his boy.

“I’m sorry Plagg.'' the kwami didn’t say anything, choosing instead to nuzzle himself in the crook of Adrien’s neck, in a hug. The boy placed his hand on top of him and began to sob quietly. Your heart sank at the sight and you couldn’t help but let yourself fall on top of Adrien again and wrapping him in another hug. You could hear every beat of his heart and every sorrowful tear rolling down his cheeks. The noise was so loud, you almost didn’t hear Marinette transform back into her heroine self.

You opened your eyes to see her tying up Gabriel, alongside Rena. She gave you a nod, letting you know they got it from here.

“Adrien?” Gabriel whispered slowly. It seemed like he had finally woken up. The boy beneath you slowly raised his head to meet the glance of his dad. Immediately, he pushed you off in order to run to him

“Father. It’s ok! It’s gonna be ok! It’s a misunderstanding, isn’t it?” Adrien ran to him, hopefulness in his voice like he didn’t know he was merely kidding himself

“I did it for a good cause Adrien…”

“No...you didn’t” he insisted

“One day you’ll understand”

Adrien stepped away from the weak body of his father, suddenly horrified at the realisation that Hawkmoth was, indeed, no one other than his own dad. He turned around to see you and Plagg still on the ground where he left you. Tears were quickly making their way back into his eyes as he rushed to you, throwing himself into your open arms. Ladybug picked Gabriel up, and dragged him away, with Rena right on her tail.

Adrien’s cries were muffled by your hair, but his words were still audible, at least to you

“He was my father! All this time”

“I failed everyone”

“No you didn’t Adrien”

“You didn’t know”

“I let myself be vulnerable and gave him the opportunity to take away my miraculous! I could have lost Plagg forever! I let Ladybug down! She lost her earrings and got akumatized and I couldn’t do anything about it!”

“Stop Adrien. It’s ok. It’s all gonna be ok” you tightened your grip around his body “eventually…”

#adrien agreste x reader #adrien agreste #adrien agreste imagine #adrien agreste angst #chat noir #chat noir x reader #chat noir imagine #chat noir angst #mlb #mlb x reader #miraculous ladybug

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dinosaurtsukki · 4 years ago

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haikyuu!! buzzfeed unsolved AU

OK THIS IS THE LAST BUZZFEED UNSOLVED RELATED HEADCANON SET I PROMISE

[edit: check out the link at the bottom of the post for more buzzfeed unsolved au content :)]

hinata and kageyama:

90% of the show is them yelling and nobody watches it with earphones on

both of them believe in ghosts but that doesn't mean they want to see one

hinata will literally go to the bathroom five times before going to the spooky house and kageyama gets mad at him for it but there is Fear in his eyes

producer: 'were you scared?'

kageyama: 'pfft, no'

cameraman: *points camera down to show that kageyama's legs are shaking*

they also bring a shit ton of food with them when they stay the night at a place and they'll deadass be eating while talking about the history of the place

‘this house *crunch crunch* was built in *crunch crunch* 1972'

the producers tell them to stop bringing snacks but fans of the show love it

sometimes they'll shoot a mini mukbang video

SPICY, BARBECUE POTATO FRIES | Mukbang at the Waverly Hills Asylum'

hinata: *looking up how to do a seance on wikihow* it says we gotta offer some food for the spirit

kageyama: *spills the doritos he was eating on the table

*after 20 minutes*

kageyama: fuck this

hinata: *starts eating the doritos*

producer: ...

the ghosts: ..................the, audacity

tsukishima and yamaguchi

pretty much a ryan and shane duo right here

yamaguchi: we'll be visiting this place as part of our ongoing investigation on the question, are ghosts real?

tsukishima: *shakes head*

yamaguchi just wants to see the look of fear in tsukishima’s eyes at least once

yamaguchi: *hears a random thump sound* fUCk tSuKkI a gHoSt!!!

tsukishima: *sees a chair being tossed across the room* huh, the wind is pretty strong today

he likes to stick his head into attics to scare yamaguchi

yamaguchi always carries a water gun full of holy water

yamaguchi: i have holy water with me and i'm not afraid to use it! but i'm also sorry you had to die such a horrible death i hope you find peace soon

tsukishima: *walks into a basement that is supposedly a portal to hell* fuckin’ take me already

so many 'yamaguchi being an angel and tsukishima being a demon for 10 mins' video compilations

daichi and sugawara

a very chaotic buzzfeed unsolved duo

suga, who is satan’s child himself, and daichi, who needs a raise

daichi: hello everyone! this is daichi,

sugawara: and suga

daichi: and you’re watching...

sugawara: jackass!!

daichi:...buzz...buzzfeed unsolved??

daichi started out being afraid of almost every place he had to walk into but after having to deal with the chaotic mess that is suga for an entire season, he no longer Feels Fear

this is because suga will deadass film a tiktok dance video no matter where he is

daichi: suga, someone was literally axe-murdered there

suga: *dancing along to ‘I’m a Savage’ or whatever that tiktok song is called*

daichi: *at cameraman* do you see what i have to deal with every day?’

suga is only genuinely scared by ghosts when his followers point out that a ghost was caught on camera in one of his tiktok videos

suga: *watching the video*

that was the end of suga’s tiktok career

tanaka and nishinoya:

another bunch of loud bois but they are much louder than kageyama and hinata

they’re very much into proving the existence of cryptids and are most known for that episode they spent hunting bigfoot by dressing up to look like bigfoot

tanaka: ‘you know that thing they do in cartoons where they stack on top of each other under a coat so they look like just one big guy?’

nishinoya: ‘ryuu i love you so fucking much’

other guy there who is also trying to catch bigfoot: oMg ItS bIgFooT *takes picture with the blurriest camera he could find*

both of them are very committed in their investigation of the supernatural and they’re very unconventional approaches

nishinoya: *lying on the ground in a creepy basement* EAT MY HEART DEMONS! WE’LL PUT THE VIDEO ON YOUTUBE!

tanaka: *takes out a spirit board* *spells out O-M-A-E W-A M-O S-H-I-N-D-E-I-R-U*

ghost: *spells out N-A-N-I*

tanaka and nishinoya: *screaming*

kuroo and kenma:

kuroo deadass flirts with any ghost or demon they encounter and kenma would sleep over in a haunted asylum for ten bucks

kuroo: *sidles up to the infamous annabelle doll* hey there little lady, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a locked, glass case with a ‘don’t touch’ sign like this?

kenma: kuroo, there’s a demon inside her

kuroo: well, i’m a bit of a demon myself

kenma: she attempted to choke a guy in his sleep

kuroo: oooh, choking. i can get behind that...

kenma: *looks at camera*

the demon in annabelle: d-daddy??

“kuroo flirting with demons and kenma looking at the camera for 5 minutes”

kuroo’s actually a huge fucking scaredy cat and kenma secretly tries to push him over the edge

kenma: *plays computer-generated screams of the damned on his phone*

kuroo: WHAT WAS THAT?

kenma: ...I didn’t hear anything *looks at the camera as if he was on the office and plays the sound again*

kuroo: i was too scared to close my eyes last night

kenma: i was actually able to catch a bunch of pokemon last night. who knew the winchester mansion is such a hotspot

producer: did you catch any evidence of ghosts?

kenma: ...i caught a gastly

bokuto and akaashi:

bokuto is a die-hard mothman fan and akaashi is emotionally involved in proving that ghosts exist he will stop at nothing

akaashi: all of the evidence on the shadow figures and orbs spotted in this place can only suggest one thing...

bokuto: mothman did it

akaashi: no

bokuto: yes

akaashi: mothman is literally five states away

bokuto: he has wings

during their individual investigations, akaashi has already foreseen how bokuto is going to react

producer: it’s been quiet for a while. do you think bokuto’s no longer scared?

akaashi: oh no. he should be screaming right about now...

bokuto, inside the haunted house: *screams and waves his flashlight around*

akaashi: and then he’s gonna call for help

bokuto: AKAAAAAASHIIIIIIIIII

*few hours later*

bokuto: i saw my life flash before my eyes in there

akaashi: *muttering incoherently near his ‘evidence wall’ full of blurry pictures and red string*

bokuto: i must’ve stared into the abyss at one point

akaashi: this place is fucking haunted. can i go back? it’s for sale right?

ushijima and tendou:

ushijima’s knowledge of ghosts is based on hollywood movies and tendou has exorcised places just by vibing

ushijima: *brings out a pottery wheel* if there are any ghosts in here, you know what to do

he’s actually never watched Ghost he just knows That One Scene

tendou: *naruto-running through the goatman bridge with a go-pro strapped to his head* IT’S MY BRIDGE GOATMAN, IT’S MY BRIDGE!!!

the Goatman Himself: i’ve never felt so fucking scared in my entire fucking life

ushijima believes that chanting in latin will Summon the Ghosts and tendou takes full advantage of that

tendou: *handing ushijima a slip of paper* here, apparently this will summon a full-bodied apparition

ushijima: thanks *begins chanting*

producer, interviewing tendou to the side: okay, what did you make him read this time?

tendou: i typed out ‘let me eat your ass’ in latin on google translate and went from there

cameraman: *zooms in on ushijima chanting*

the ghost haunting the castle: *is confused in French*

in the end neither of them get evidence on ghosts

ushijima: well, we'll have better luck next time

tendou: maybe even revisit this place ?

the ghosts: i know i'm dead but this is the first time i've been scared for my life

[EDIT: for more buzzfeed unsolved au content written by me, check out The Search for the Mysterious Mothman, a headcanon set feat. bokuaka]

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makeste · 3 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 316: We've Had One, Yes, But What About Second Explosion

Previously on BnHA: Deku was all “[powers up like whoa because it’s time to end the fight]”, and he saved Overhaul from getting not-shot, and then smashed up Nagant’s arm with the power of his new rechargeable super knees. Nagant was all “yoooo this kid is crazy strong whaaaat, it’s like he’s some kind of protagonist or something.” Deku was all “I AM A PROTAGONIST, ACTUALLY, DO YOU WANT TO JOIN FORCES AND FIGHT BAD GUYS WITH ME?” Nagant was all “ah shit why the hell no -- ” and then AFO was all “SURPRISE” and everyone was all “?!?!?!” and AFO was all “TIME TO EXPLODE NOW” and made Nagant explode because he’s an absolute fucking dick. And then Hawks showed up, because Horikoshi just wanted to stuff as many plot points as humanly possible into a single chapter I guess.

Today on BnHA: Hawks is all “good job giving motivational shounen redemption speeches Deku but I’ll take it from here” and screams very earnestly right in Nagant’s face until she finally wakes up. Nagant is all “oh hey it’s my successor, you seem surprisingly unfucked-up from your own HPSC tenure, how did you manage that?” Hawks is all “fandom is going to love hearing this one, but basically it’s because I’m very upbeat and also I had the world’s best role model Endeavor to look up to,” and I swear this man stirs the pot on purpose, but damn it I still love him so damn much. Overhaul is all “HELLO AGAIN, JUST A REMINDER THAT, THE BOSS!!” and Deku is all “MAYBE TAKE TWO SECONDS TO REFLECT ON HOW YOU TORTURED A LITTLE GIRL,” which, thank you, lol. Nagant is all “btw AFO’s hiding in a house in the woods”, and so Deku and the gang go to the house in the woods. Video recording!AFO is all “hi I’m AFO welcome to Jackass” and blows up the house. Sometimes I wonder if this manga is just a weird dream.

I am once again reading the Bean version because I think it was actually the best out of all three translations last week. and that is surprisingly including Viz’s. “faux” is not nearly as entertaining as “knockoff”, and also I have literally no idea why Caleb thought Deku was saying the Third’s lines lol

oh hey, Endeavor’s here too! not that you’d ever be able to tell from this first panel lmao

glad you received All Might’s call, mysterious unidentified glowing smudge

oh snap he says he’s weaker in the rain. is that why AFO told Nagant to attack then?? except that as we discussed the other day, I believe that AFO fully intended for Nagant to lose the fight, so him giving her info that would give her an advantage doesn’t really fit in with that. maybe he wanted Deku to be separated from Endeavor and the rest for maximum angst, though

btw Deku’s eyes are unsurprisingly back to the new normal here

alas, the angst continues. I say, pretending like I’m not totally eating it up each and every week and writing essay after essay about it lol

anyway so apparently Hawks can’t actually fly lmao. he was just yeeting himself with style

for some reason this is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen omfg. wave to Hawks, kids! say “bye, Hawks!”

j/k of course Deku is catching them. -- except???

wow so he was just running on fumes there at the end. well, good to know there is actually a limit to his shenanigans, particularly regarding this new “knockoff” 100% OFA. it will definitely not alleviate any of the discourse, but it’s good for my own peace of mind because it’s solid confirmation that he still needs his pals in order to win this thing

anyway, but on to the rest of this conversation, which is basically Deku deducing what we all deduced last week -- AFO implanted some sort of trap into Nagant when he gave her Air Walk. though I’d still like to get the actual details from AFO and/or Horikoshi, because this was particularly wild even by quirk standards lol

omgggggg

she still has a face after all!! so it’s confirmed, Horikoshi has no idea what “blowing up” actually means. we might have guessed, based on what happened to Toga in the MVA arc, and also based on everything Katsuki does ever, but shhh

so now Hawks is all “NAGANT PLEASE WAKE UP, IF I SHOUT MY NAME AT YOU WILL THAT DO THE TRICK”

this is actually kind of touching though because even though we all know (or most of us acknowledge at any rate) that Hawks is a pretty caring person, it’s rare to see him actually panic over someone’s welfare like this

oh shit Horikoshi is really doubling down on it

I wonder how much Hawks knew about what really happened between Nagant and the HPSC. regardless, he probably sees her as a kindred spirit of sorts, and I’m more than happy for Deku to pass the redemption torch onto him now that he’s on the scene. like no offense Deku but they actually know each other and stuff lol

DAMMIT NAGANT CAN’T YOU SEE HOW LOUD HE IS YELLING

apparently being freed from his HPSC shackles has finally given Hawks the space to embrace his own inner shounen protagonist. is there anything more shounen than trying to motivationally scream someone awake when they’re lying in your arms inches from death?? 100% guaranteed to work

!!! IS THIS NAGANT’S POV OMG

SO SHE IS ALIVE. THANK GOD. Horikoshi doesn’t want to meet with my emotional distress lawyer today after all

love how she’s all “just gonna stir up the weekly Hawks Discourse pot here by implying that he probably committed a lot of Atrocities just like I did, so now people can get all hopped up about that, even though there’s no evidence he’s ever killed anyone aside from that one horrible ‘damned-if-you-do...’ situation with Twice.” no one asked for your provocative speculation young lady!! trust me Nagant, our rabbles don’t need the rousing lol

but nice save there with the “so how are your eyes so untainted” well you see it’s because even when he was following the HPSC’s orders he always went to great lengths never to go against his own moral compass. which just to be clear was incredibly difficult, and led to a ton of pain and suffering on his part, because the life of a spy is basically just one impossible situation after another. but in spite of that he never stopped trying to do his best to help people. I don’t really know where this tangent came from or is leading to, lol, but anyway p.s.a. I love Hawks a lot and he’s a good kid dammit

oh shit??!?

how is the League always able to swing all these fancy forest mansions. where do they find them. how many do they have

so Deku’s dropping them -- very roughly, not sure if he was reacting to finally getting AFO’s location, or if his energy really is giving out -- and now Nagant’s saying that AFO hired other villains as well. well of course he did. gotta keep chipping away at OFA’s ninth successor little by little

now Nagant is asking Hawks how he’s able to keep making “that” face. I assume she’s again talking about the fact that he somehow didn’t let the HPSC wear down his spirit

oh my god???

thanks for stuffing this chapter to the brim with good nutritional Hawks Feels, Horikoshi. what a good. he just keeps on trudging forward undeterred no matter what bullshit comes his way. what a steadfast little guy. I WILL PROTECT YOU FROM DISCOURSE MY SWEET SUNSHINE

lmaoooo

“SPOTTED THIS DUDE JUST CHILLING OUT THERE ON THE ROOF WITH NO ARMS, SEEMED PRETTY SUS” good job Endeavor

anyway so you don’t really need me to tell you that Overhaul is immediately starting in with the “BUT THE BOSS WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE ME TO THE BOSS YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD TAKE ME TO THE BOSS” stuff again. but I will go ahead and tell you anyway. so yeah. he’s doing that

OMG YOU GUYS LOOK AT DEKU’S “of all the fucking assholes to just randomly drop in on my life once again why did it have to be you” FACE THOUGH, OMG

fun fact, if you go back to chapters 124 through 160, there was an entire story arc where Overhaul imprisoned and tortured a little girl. yeah, I know!! suuuuuuuuper evil. anyways just an interesting little anecdote for you all that’s somewhat relevant to the current situation

OMG, YES. FUCK YES, DEKU

THEN WHAT ABOUT SPARING ONE FOR HER!!! YES!!! EXACTLY!!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, SOMEONE GETS IT

HERE’S THE PANEL OF DEKU SAYING THE EXACT SAME THING I’M SAYING LOL

(ETA: so apparently there’s some discourse about this because some people are interpreting this as Deku saying “you should apologize to Eri”, which would obviously be a terrible idea even if Overhaul actually wanted to do that, because Eri shouldn’t ever have to see him again. however I just want to point out that there is a HUGE difference between saying “it would be nice if you could direct that feeling of regret/being sorry towards Eri as well”, vs saying “you should also apologize to her.” all Deku is doing is rightfully pointing out that Overhaul has hurt way more people than just his boss, and if he really is remorseful, then he should extend those feelings of remorse to Eri and the rest as well. it’s not a directive to take any specific action, and I’m 1000% sure no one at U.A. would let Overhaul within 100 miles of Eri ever again.

tl;dr “try feeling remorse sometime” =/= “do you want me to fly you over to U.A. right now to surprise the little girl you traumatized”, lol.)

[slings an arm around Deku’s shoulders] you’re a good kid. I like you. I don’t know if I tell you that enough, but it’s true

meanwhile here is Overhaul’s “spare... a thought... for Eri...???????” face sigh

the struggle is real y’all

(ETA: and that’s... the last we ever saw of Overhaul, I guess? well all right then. I assume Deku will make good on his promise, so we know he’ll get that little bit of closure before going back to jail or whatever, and I confess I’m more than fine with leaving the rest of it open-ended, especially given his character’s history. I think this was pretty generous all things considered.)

lmao holy shit

All Might what did you do to those tiki torch guys?? did you thrash them. did you give ‘em those hands. did you deliver their own asses to them complete with a sticker reminding them Amazon Prime Day is on June 21. we missed out goddammit

so Endeavor, who wasn’t the one he was asking, is telling him that they captured (well let’s be real, Deku captured, give the credit where it’s due) Nagant and Overhaul. and so I guess they’re going to take Nagant to the ER now

fire is no one’s weakness

-- oh my GOD I scrolled down and audibly gasped

[is politely but firmly approached and asked to remove my arm from Deku’s shoulder by the physical manifestation of all this Dekuangst] “we’re sorry, he’s not allowed to have visitors right now” oh shit, my bad. [goes to stand behind a police barricade]

lmao what. did you run out of room on the previous page

what an exaggerated fade to black lmao

-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I actually can’t see what he’s reacting to so maybe I’m just seriously jumping the gun here lol, but THE HELL WITH IT. the next panel appears to be a cut to Haibori Forest, so I’m just gonna go ahead and declare that Deku ran off on his own all wounded to go have more Dekuangst, just like I manifested. now go call Katsuki goddammit

[scrolls three more inches down] oh

yeah so like I said, Deku is walking very slowly a few feet in front of Endeavor, who’s telling him to wait up. yep. we’ve all gotta be so careful to not just jump to conclusions. I know we’re excited but still

anyway, so! welcome back to Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods (ARE YOU GUYS DATING) and Edgeshot! have fun walking into this obvious trap lol

dammit Deku why are you so determined to tempt fate

[monkey puppet meme faces]

OH MY GOD THIS IS PURE GRADE-A CHEESY COMIC BOOK VILLAIN 101 SHIT AND I’M HERE FOR IT

that’s such a weird way of clapping who claps like that

unlike certain other people who shan’t be named, AFO doesn’t feel the need to inexplicably take his shirt off when recording sinister villain monologues. I think we’re all pretty grateful for that

high fives to everyone who called it!! yep yep

anyway so this whole scene has major booby-trap vibes, which I’m enjoying immensely even though I don’t think anything is really going to come of it lol. probably just another long-winded AFO Speech. but wouldn’t it be funny if like the ceiling started lowering down to try and squish Deku afterwards lol

(ETA: well the explosion was still pretty funny too ngl.)

ffff

[“Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies]

anyway so yeah. he’s just hitting up all of his usual villain talking points. we get it, you’re so smart and you see right through the thin veneers of society and people who don’t conform are left to fend for themselves and labeled as villains and history is written by the victors, and blah blah blah dude are you just jumping randomly from one soundbyte to another lol. literally what are you talking about. what does this have to do with you blowing up Nagant

-- holy shit??

[”Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies MORE?????]

LOL WHAT

BRO. WHAT IS WITH YOU. DON’T YOU KNOW HOW TO LAY ANY OTHER KIND OF FUCKING TRAP GOOD LORD

“YOU’RE NEXT” THE CALLBACK?? THE PARALLELS?? THOUGH WHEN ALL MIGHT POINTED HE MADE IT LOOK WAY COOLER. AFO’S POINTING JUST LOOKS LIKE SMOKEY THE BEAR

HAS ANYONE CHECKED IN ON KAMUI WOODS I HEAR HE IS WEAK TO FIRE?? THE ONLY ONE WHO IS, APPARENTLY

r.i.p. to this particular forest mansion. don’t worry they have a ton of backups

remember last week when I said maybe AFO thinks explosions are gauche. well never mind. he fucking loves explosions

anyway so that’s the end of BnHA, everyone. hope you enjoyed. it was a good ride while it lasted. see you all, good luck in your travels

#bnha 316 #hawks #takami keigo #lady nagant #midoriya izuku #all for one #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #manifesting 317 opening with a slightly modified version of my previous fantasy scenario lmao #'WHADDYA MEAN THEY BLEW UP THE NERD'#that's *his* job #sorry lol I kid I kid

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bokettochild · 3 years ago

Text

A Hero Protects His Own - Part 1

Ao3

AU is by @ryssbelle I just write for it!!!! Go check them and their awesome AU out!!!!

..........................................................................................................................

Loud.

It’s loud and the camp is overwhelmingly tense as Legend screams harsh words in a language Twilight doesn’t understand. The others sit in silence, either burying their heads in their hands or trying their hardest to ignore it while Sky stares cold and impassive at the vet.

He shrinks back into his hood.

He’s fought the worst of the worst; monsters, evils, shadows and nightmares from realms beyond what the others will ever know, but somehow hearing his brothers screaming at each other like this is what it takes to make him shiver and shrink back.

Or maybe it’s the steel in Sky’s eyes.

He’s tried to separate them, tried to stop Legend antagonizing the Chosen Hero, and for a while he even thought it worked! Sky and Legend had bonded some after what the three of them refer to as “the bunny incident” Legend with a fierce blush and Sky and himself with grins and teasing. The vet would tease them, stand at their side and back them up, and they would do the same for him. That’s just the power of secrets, sharing them makes you closer to other people.

But then they’d been dropped in Legend’s world. They’d come to the veteran’s Hyrule and spent a day at his house and gone out to the forest with Ravio to investigate something strange that the merchant had seen. When they'd come to the cozy cottage, Sky had been teasing Legend and receiving playful jabs in return, but the next morning when everyone woke up there was stone cold silence between the two, Ravio overcome with nervous energy that, to their collective shock, had earned him some rather sharp words from the Skyloftian when the merchant had gotten them lost in the woods.

From there it got worse.

Legend and Sky are almost always at each other's throats now, icy blue and raging indigo burning into each other as Time has struggled to keep them separate, neither willing to explain their spat and Ravio to overcome to even attempt it.

The bunny merchant clings to Warriors even now, their scarves wrapped over the both of them and tying them together as Warriors paints the merchant’s nails, speaking softly and recounting adventures the two had apparently shared in an attempt to distract him from the shouting that fills the camp and the heated stares being shot between two heroes.

Sky’s hand grips the hilt of the Master Sword where it lies in his lap and Legend’s fist at his sides while he stands over the older hero, face twisted up in an ugly expression as he spews words Twilight knows he doesn’t want to understand.

“Make it stop.” Four whimpers, head buried in his side as the smithy’s shoulders tense further with each word. “It hurts.”

“Guys-” He tries, he really does, to be firm, but when there's so much anger already in the air, he knows that yelling will only do so much good, and when Sky’s sharp eyes meet his, usually so gentle and dreamy but now flashing with lightning and shadowed in thunderclouds, it’s all he can do to keep his voice low enough to not worsen things for Four.

“You’re hurting Four.” Time scolds.

Legend’s mouth snaps shut, Sky’s hands twitching as the two both look over the miserable bundle against his side.

“Fine.” Legend snaps, crossing his arms and looking away.

“Apologies.” Sky nods.

It’s easy to believe Sky will be a king one day when he acts like that. There’s no doubt that their usually sleepy friend can rule and command when he sits poker straight, actions clipped as his words and tone deep enough to rival times when he speaks. Gone are the gentle words and reassuring smiles, instead replaced with regal nods and flashing silver eyes. The war cape that usually warms shivering heroes on cold nights is a cape, and the halo cast over the Skyloftian’s honey-hair is a crown in the firelight.

Twilight has to shift in his place.

Thank Ordonia the two both have a soft spot for the smithy, otherwise they’d be here all night! And, while he loves the wolf that nestles inside of his heart, he also hates how the wolf’s senses affect his own. Legend’s shrieks might be annoying to the others, but to himself and Four, they’re agonizing.

Then again, he has to muffle a strained chuckle as Legend stomps past on his way to his bedroll, which is as far as possible from Sky’s without Time raising his brows, rabbits do scream rather loudly, don’t they.

“Are they done?” Four’s eyes actually have tears in them when he looks up, face flushed and miserable as he peeks up out from under the tail end of the wolf pelt.

“Yeah.” He has to keep his voice low as he answers, Four’s headaches are well known to be absolutely awful, and he can’t help but gently pet the smithy’s hair in an attempt to comfort him.

Baby.

Twilight has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Four’s nearly an adult.

Baby. The wolf in his soul rumbles, and Twilight has to mentally restrain himself from pulling the little smithy into his arms and absolutely suffocating him with his fluffy pelt and arms as he holds him as tight as possible. He thinks Four once explained why they want to squeeze babies and small things so much, but he can’t be bothered to dig through all of the smithy’s rants about Hylian behavior in order to remember it.

It was something related to eating though, and the thought makes him wrinkle his nose.

“Good.” Four sighs, flopping fully against him and tugging the pelt over his eyes. “They do that again and I’m gonna slap them both. Jerks.”

A laugh rumbles through his chest as the wolf growls in approval.

Fierce baby. The Wolf laughs.

He’s close to our age. Twilight reminds himself. He jist looks small and young.

Never mind that the smithy has his childish moments, eyes glimmering red and warm as he laughs along with Wind as the two watch some prank or another play out. It’s always hard to tell if Four is just laughing at their misfortune or if he’s the reason for it and is reveling in his genius, because when questioned the smithy always looks so childishly innocent or entirely unimpressed. It’s a difficult thing to pin the blame on the smithy, and they’ve all quite given up. Except Sky.

Sky, who can read Four like a book and is currently shooting worried glances in the smithy’s direction, all fire and rage gone from crystal eyes when the Skyloftian catches sight of the smithy curled up beside him, only his legs and stockinged feet visible beneath the pelt. “Is he okay?”

Twilight nods. “Exhausted, fightin’ a bad headache, but he says it ain’t quite a migraine.”

The other hero nods with a wince. “You got him then?”

Oh definitely. This is his little brother! Of course, he can take care of him! “Yeah.”

“Okay.”

He’s feeling guilty.

They are close, he prob’bly just wants to help.

“You good, Sky?”

Crystal blue meets his slowly, a pained smile on his brother’s face as Sky settles down on his other side, reaching over quickly to gently pat Four’s knee before answering. “Yeah. Legend just-” Sky answers, running a hand through his hair with a huff of his puffed-out cheeks. “Vet’s a Hylia Blessed piece of work somedays!”

Laughter spills from him this time, and he can’t stop it even when Four pokes his side irritably. “That has got to be the nicest way I’ve e’er heard someone call another person an ass! Did you just say ‘Hylia blessed’?”

Sky rolls his eyes. “I love Legend same as any of you guys, he’s just...” Another heavy puff of breath, one that he didn’t know Sky could even manage with his asthma, billows out, ruffling the Skyloftian’s bangs as he motions to where Legend is sat with his back against Warriors, Twilight would almost dare to say that the vet is pouting as War reaches over to gently ruffle the vet’s hair fondly while Ravio chirps something nervous and encouraging at him.

“He can a bit difficult.” He finishes, but Sky shakes his head fiercely.

“That’s not it! I deal with difficult people all the time! My best friend was the biggest ass I knew before he stopped trying to one up me and started to actually help. I can handle a bit of sass and snark, I mean, look at us!” Sky exclaims, motioning to the camp and everyone in it.

“Keep it down!” Four hisses. “Headache!”

“Sorry.” He choruses with Sky as the smithy glares up at the both of them before retreating back underneath the protective shade of his wolf pelt.

“It’s not the grouchiness, or the snark.” Sky explains softly, blue eyes pained as they glance at Legend. “We’re just. We have very different opinions about some things.” He’s about to say something when Sky cuts him off, eyes glistening softly in the fire as he stares across at the pouting vet. “I get that he doesn’t care for the goddesses. I’m not happy with it, but I can respect his opinions; they’re valid as much as mine are, and he has his reasons to feel the way he does. But some things-” The Skyloftian shakes his head fiercely, eyes going stony again. “Some things aren’t open for discussion like faith and beliefs. Hard, cold facts can’t be denied, no matter how much Legend would like to.”

There’s a bite in Sky’s voice again, and it makes him flinch back. Beneath his pelt, Four’s fingers clench his tunic, the smithy stiff as a board again. He sneaks an arm around the younger hero, squeezing gently in reassurance as he follows Sky’s gaze to the trio opposite them, where Legend is glaring at a laughing Warriors while Ravio giggles softly along, the three melting back into their seamlessly antagonistically friendly behavior around each other.

“Legend’s smart. But he’s also blind.” Sky bites out bitterly. “And it’s just gonna get him hurt.”

He’s about to ask what Sky means, but at that very moment Wild jumps up from sitting beside Time, ears pricked and eyes wide as a hoarse-shout rings from his cub’s throat. “Monster attack!”

Monsters.

The growl rumbles in his chest as he pulls himself to his feet, Four following with a groan and Sky already sprinting across the camp with the Master Sword drawn and in hand.

The monsters are on them before most of them even have a chance to draw their blades.

Mindless beasts swirl about, blocking his vision of the others as he dances through them, fending off any headed towards the suffering smithy while simultaneously trying to carve a path for himself and Four to where the others are.

“Eyes out for the black one!” Warriors voice rises over the din of blades crashing and monsters squealing, all of the playfulness of the moment before replaced with the practiced calm and clipped tones of a soldier.

“Aye Captain!” Wind shouts back, followed by Wild and Time, the only one’s accustomed to a soldier’s commands, as they thrust themselves into the battle.

The monsters swarm thicker and thicker, but in every spare second, he keeps his eyes open, searching the crowd for the black lizalfoes that’s been the source of so much of their trouble lately. Nothing can be seen save monster after monster of the normal sort, their blood streaking red across the dirt, thin and weak as bodies fall with more ease than any of their previous battles.

“These ‘blins are red blooded!” He calls out. “Keep your guards up! They strong one’s are prob’bly holdin’ back!”

The Ordon Sword sings through the air, but despite his own warning, the monsters are already starting the thin. More stream in from the forest, but they runabout wild like any old ‘blins and lizards, none of the intelligence or strength of their corrupted cousins making an appearance so often recently. The same can be said of the black lizalfoes; no one can spot it, there’s no flash of black in the crowd save for his own pelt as he spins and stabs, dancing easily along to Warriors’ side.

“Any sign?” The captain pants out, parrying an enemy blade and thrusting forwards to skewer the moblin before him.

“None.” He heaves back, raising his shield against his own opponent and pushing back against the spear that embedded it inside. “Have you seen Four? I lost him in the mob?”

The words are hardly out of his mouth before a scream, all too harsh and broken sounded across the field. “Sky!”

Midnight meets royal blue as soldier and rancher lock eyes for all of a moment before swinging out with all their might at their enemies, razing them low and clearing their vision long enough to stare over the field.

Four is clutching at his sword arm, eyes wide and staring as they looked to where Sky has been cast onto the ground a few paces away, thrown by the force of a blow that no doubt had been headed for the smithy himself. No ordinary monster could land a blow on Sky unless he was rushing to someone else’s rescue, and the guilt already filtering into the smithy’s eyes was all that is needed to confirm the thought.

The Master Sword lies on the forest floor, to far from Sky for the knight to grasp it as he pulls himself to his knees, enemies already baring down on him from all directions.

“Sky!” Twin voices shout.

Flying-Heart!!!! The Wolf screams inside of him, pushing his feet forwards to charge to Sky’s side.

Red flashes before him, swirling fabric, the color of aged blood and wine, a hood like a poe’s drawn up over a being’s head, a single blackened hand reaching out from beneath, red swirling over clawed fingers as Sky’s breath comes heaving from his lungs, side bleeding from the blow that had downed him.

A voice, neither high nor low but pitched in such a way that none could hear quite what was being said, murmurs something as the power on the blackened hand pulses.

Monsters rage around the hero and poe-like being, but none step closer to Sky, although their eyes trail to him eagerly every so often when Heroes, desperate to save their brother, aren’t hacking through their numbers.

A moblin rises before Twilight, blocking his vision for precious seconds before a roar built in his chest and his sword cleft the being in two. The second was enough though. Sky’s scream sounds over the field, harsh and grating and agonizing! The wolf throbs inside of him, tearing at the walls of his mind as he attempted to press through the creatures keeping him from his brother.

“Get back you-” Legend’s words are cut off sharply by Time’s scream of rage as the biggoron sword swings and fells three monsters at once. The Master Sword gleams in Legend’s hands as he launches himself at the being, teeth set and eyes flashing as he swings down, making the red-cape dart back as the pink-haired hero came to a halt between hero and monster, Sky’s weakening breath ringing over the field.

The vet’s eyes flash to meet his for only a moment. “Kick ass! We need to end this!”

A firm nod, the wolf is already raging inside him and he gave it full control as his blade and shield fend off and fell enemy after enemy, their screams and blood running over him like the air itself, so little he cares for them. His only job now is to beat back the monsters, give Legend space to work, keep Sky safe.

Beat the monsters.

Give Legend space to wreak havoc.

Protect Sky.

Beat the monsters.

Give Legend space to wreak havoc.

Protect Sky.

Beat the monsters.

Give Legend space to wreak havoc.

Protect Sky.

Like a dirge of war, the wolf’s thoughts swirl with his own, red clouding his vision as the Ordon Sword severs limbs and head and cleft bodies in two. Feet dance the war stomps of bloodlust as eyes flash with the golden of the wolf.

“Portal!” Wild screams over the din of the monsters falling. “Hylia’s!” His pup sounds strained, rage and terror mixing in a cocktail of fury as arrows plunge into the enemy and weapons fly loose across the Champion’s personal battle space, an area where even the monsters drew back in fear while the rest of the heroes give the youngster ample space to cause chaos.

Sure enough, the portal’s golden power is sweeping across the field, the faint brush of feathers over their cheeks and shoulders and the whisper of warmth and honey as the goddess’s strength flows over the field.

“Legend, watch out!” Hyrule’s cry cuts through, and Twilight only has enough time to see the blackened hand swing forwards and catch hold of Legend’s tunic before the golden glow of the shift swept it all away.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #devine beast sky #devine twili beast sky #raven of sky #lu sky #lu legend #lu twilight #lu four #idiot writes angst #danggit! I forgot to tag Ravio on ao3!!!!#uh... yeah #lu ravio #lu time #lu hyrule #lu warriors #lu wind #lu wild #ryssbelle my beloved

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sunnysviolin · 3 years ago

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Oh god that. That shattered AU broke me. Kel angst is my new horrible addiction and I swear I. I need to know... wtf happens with him and Hero. I can see so vividly Hero trying to keep the last semblance of his old brother back but it just fails every time, literally the only reason Hero is trying to continue on is because he doesn't want to leave Kel behind, that he made a promise and he was going to stick to it. So I must ask... does Kel kill himself as well? Or even accidentally? My heart h u r t s pardner..... sad yeehaw

Welllll we know the answer to the last part of that ask, but I do want to continue this series, so I’m gonna use the one ask that I have about it. Before anything I will say like I always do with Shattered AU that this is a dark AU. There is no happy endings, and pay attention to the TWs.

TW: Suicide, TW: Depression, TW: Major Character Death, TW: Rage, TW: Grief

Dear Hero,

No one else wrote a letter, but I couldn’t do that to you. I know that you spent so much time wondering if you could have done anything different for everyone else. I want you to know you couldn’t have done anything different for me

Hero had begged his parents to be allowed to stay. He had begged and pleaded to take the semester off. It was just one semester, he was still going to graduate early at this rate, why couldn’t he just stay? Hero knew Kel needed him. Kel might not be opening up, but being with Hero seemed to be comforting for his little brother at the very least. Hero knew that if he had more time, he could crack through Kel’s shell and try to start healing what was inside.

I remember when Mari died. You were so tired and upset. I didn’t get it then, but I do now. I know that when you get tired like this it’s hard to do anything. It’s hard to breathe, it’s hard to think, it’s just all so hard. I probably didn’t make it any easier by pretending everything was fine. I understand why you snapped at me.

Hero’s parents had practically thrown him onto the train. They reassured him over and over that they could take care of Kel. They would keep an eye on him, they would make sure he took his meds, and ate, and got to school on time. They said this all while rolling their eyes and giving him good natured sighs. They both acted like this was something they were used to, but Hero knew this was different. When this had happened to him, they had left him to find his own way back. He wouldn’t let that happen to Kel, mostly because Hero wasn’t sure Kel would find his way back.

Right before you left for school you told me you always felt guilty for not coming back that night. I want you to know that even if you had, I would still be doing this.

They had forced Hero back to school, but it didn’t matter. Hero couldn’t think about school at all. All he could think about was how to help Kel. He ignored his classes in favor of reading about recovering after loss, he didn’t bother to study anything except what might help him get through to his brother. There wasn’t anything more important than Kel right now, and if he was being completely honest, there was a part of Hero that was spitefully going to fail the semester just to prove to his parents how wrong they were. Above all, Hero called Kel every single night. Their phone calls last year had been frequent, but short. Usually just a quick fifteen minute chat updating each other on their days. Now their phone calls lasted hours and hours, and mostly consisted of Hero rambling on while Kel hummed and made one word answers. It wasn’t perfect, but it was important.

You were why I didn’t do this yet, even though it’s been on my mind for years. First Mari, then Basil, then Sunny. How could I ever do that to you, when I knew what it felt like to be in your shoes? You were trying so hard to help me, you’re still trying so hard. You call and you call and you always want to listen. I’m sorry I don’t want to talk.

For the first time, Kel didn’t pick up the phone. His parents said Kel was sleeping, and they could talk tomorrow. Hero’s stomach dropped, and his mind went fuzzy. He needed to be there, he needed to see Kel. If he couldn’t hear Kel’s voice, then he needed to see his little brother to know he was still alive. He must’ve said the last part out loud, because his mother was adamant that he stay at school. She was so sure that both of her sons needed to get back to their normal routines, that the way to get things to normal was to force them to be that way. Hero knew better. He knew Kel needed him. He hung up on his parents, pacing back and forth with shaking hands. He didn’t know what to do. It was too late for a train, and he didn’t have a car. Hero just didn’t know what to do.

I know you’re trying, and I hope you know I was trying too. I really was, I promise. It’s just...it’s too much. It’s all too much I’m just done. I’m done trying, and I’m done waiting for things to get better when I know they won’t. I don’t see the point anymore. I’m going to die regardless, so why should I go through fifty more years of feeling like this, only to get to the same end?

Hero grabbed his shoes, running out of the dorm room and across campus to his friend’s midnight study group. They had started doing this for their organic chemistry class in their first year and then kept it up because midnight was the only time that the library truly was quiet enough to get work done. He hadn’t joined them in weeks, and he wasn’t sure they would even consider him a friend anymore, but Hero needed their help. One look at his wild desperate eyes and his pleas, and Tristan was grabbing his keys and handing them to Hero. It was an eight hour car ride, nine and a half because he hit traffic. It was nine in the morning when Hero got home and found the letter on his bed. When they found Kel, the police told him and his parents that Kel had most likely died early that morning, around 7:30 or 8:00. Hero was sure if he had just been an hour faster in making his decision to come home, then Kel might still be here.

I know it’s going to hurt you, I know that I’m being selfish, but like I said. It’s just too much now. I don’t know if I believe in God or anything. I don’t know what kind of God makes everything that happened to us happen, but if there is a God out there, I hope he lets us all be together when this is all over. We can go for a picnic by the pond like we used to. That’s where I’m going now. That seems like a good place.

He waited until the police left to speak to his parents. He didn’t even mean to start fighting with them, but there was no way he couldn’t. He had started off just talking, trying to ask them why they hadn’t listened to him when he had known. They refused to hold themselves accountable. That’s why he had ended up in a screaming match with his mother. That had to be why rage was boiling in his veins and clouding his thoughts. Hero had begged them to let him stay. Hero had told them Kel needed him. They hadn’t listened, and now his brother was dead. His brother, the love of his life, his friends, all of them gone. Kel was all he had left, and they had taken him away.

I did love you. I did. I promise I did. This doesn’t mean I didn’t love you.

Hero took the letter and the keys to Tristan’s car. He didn’t need to stay, and he didn’t want to. He didn’t care that his mother was wailing about losing her boy, he didn’t care that his father was trying to get him to come sit and be with them. He just didn’t care. The only person he had left to care about was gone, because Hero hadn’t been there. He wasn’t going to go to another funeral, he wasn’t going to see them lower his little brother into the ground. He wasn’t going to continue the endless loop of torture that his life seemed to have on repeat.

I’m sorry, Hero. I hope you can forgive me. Maybe this is for the best. Now you don’t have to worry about me anymore.

Hero walked down his driveway to his borrowed car, ignoring his parent’s calling behind him. There, right where the pavement met the road, was Aubrey. Her hair was messy all around her, her eyes bloodshot. The police had told him she was there when they arrived. They had questioned her, but after reading Kel’s note, they were sure she hadn’t been involved. Hero could have told them that himself, but it seemed no one believed that he knew anything. Maybe they were right. She asked him if he was leaving. She asked if he was coming back. His silence was response enough. She walked away before he could say anything, and that was good. Hero didn’t have anything to say anymore.

Maybe I’ll see you again.

There was really only one road out of Faraway these days. The construction around town left all the exits blocked off. Hero had memoized the route to and from his college almost a year ago, just to be safe. He had to take the third right to get on the highway. Hero drove past the third right. If he missed the third right, he could take the next left and turn around. He ignored the left. Hero drove straight until he couldn’t drive straight anymore, and then on a whim he took the right turn. He wasn’t sure where he was going exactly, but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore.

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pars-ley · 4 years ago

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hi! i just came across your page the other day and i’ve read all of your drabbles and stories multiple times lol! so for my ask, i would love it if you did a college AU with popularjock!jk and have it be similar to the movie ‘A Cinderella Story’. some angst with smut and a happy ending if possible! oh and bestfriendjimin! as well :) hope this is not too much to request! ily

At the stroke of Midnight

Pairing: Jungkook x f reader

Summary: One popular boy + One 'uncool' girl + One school dance + One necklace left behind = A cinderella story.

Genre: Angst / Fluff / Smut / Cinderella au / A Cinderella story au / comedy / popular jock jungkook / best friend Jimin

Warnings: Suggestive language / sex

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Word Count: 4k

Beta reader: @casuallyimagining

A/N: I am so sorry this has taken me so long! I had no clue about this film, so writing this entailed some research and me watching the movie...twice haha. I really hope I did it justice for you and you enjoy it. Thank you for the request!

"So, what's prince charming saying now that's so much more important than your best friend?" Jimin pouts, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

You flush slightly. "He wants to meet." Grimacing at the words.

"And that's a problem, why?"

You bury your head in your hands. "Because I'm me and I'm certainly no one special, what if he's disappointed?" You groan, the dilemma churning your gut and making you feel like your breakfast could make a second appearance.

"Hey," Jimin scoots closer to you along the bench and throws an arm around your shoulder. "No best friend of mine gets away with speaking about herself like that. You are lovely, and if he thinks you're anything other than amazing, there's something wrong with him and he needs to be studied in a lab."

You laugh in spite of yourself, hearing Jimin’s words rattle around in your brain, knowing that you should not be this hard on yourself. You lean into his snug embrace.

You open up Tumblr and stare at the conversation between you and @gameoverguk. Your favourite gaming blog you’ve followed for ages, by chance seeing your gaming fan art and following you back was one thing, but conversing with him and finding out that he also attended your school was a completely different matter. Trying to solve the equation of who this mysterious creator might be is harder than you thought. And the way he converses with you, so open and honest and sweet, that had to narrow it down surely?

Something slams into your back, pain immediately in its wake. You and Jimin turn to see the popular boy of your university, Jungkook, gawking at you and his best friend Taehyung in hysterics.

Jimin looks down in the grass behind you at the offending apple and calls, “Hey, watch it guys.”

“Really sorry!” Jungkook calls over, a slight dusting of scarlet across his cheeks but looks like he’s also fighting a laugh. It burns you how someone so smug can still be so handsome, and you hate yourself for even thinking about him in any way other than the airhead jock that he is.

Taehyung jogs over and picks it up, still somewhat amused. “What, didn’t your crystal ball tell you that was gonna happen?” He says to you, loud enough for everyone in a mile radius to hear.

You cringe inwardly, attempting to fight your embarrassment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of the top athletes in this university? And you can’t even catch an apple.” Jimin snarks in your defense.

His face drops as he looks like he’s about to take a step towards you both.

“Tae!” Jungkook calls, an air of command in his voice, breaking the tense air as he looks away from you ruefully. Walking off with Taehyung following, eating his apple and laughing between bites.

“Ignore them.” Jimin says sternly. “Speaking of, are you working tonight?”

Your face falls into an unamused expression, as if he even had to ask.

You were working so much you were almost taking residence at your step-mums 'magic shop', as everyone called it.

He smiles at you, his nose wrinkling, and you can’t help your face softening.

“Ok, ok, my bad. Can I swing by later? I need some more incense.”

You shrug, grabbing your bag and chucking it over your shoulder. “Sure. I’d be glad of the company to be honest.”

“Ooooh, maybe we could do a seance?”

You glare at him and head off to class causing his melodious laugh to ring out around you.

Sitting in the bleachers after class, with your sketchpad and pencil, the perfect view of the city line and the departing sun staring back at you, you sketch away. The pencil etching fast across your paper as you manage to block out the sounds of the team practicing and their bodies crashing against each other.

Long after you've lost yourself in your landscape, fingers grey and shiny from shading, you neglect to hear some of the team members leaving, climbing over the seats and headed in your direction. That is until your pad is snatched from underneath you as you frantically grapple for it, without success.

"You know, this isn't where the nerds hang out." Taehyung smirks at his two other buddies, clearly impressed with himself.

You let out a bored sigh. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize you owned the bleachers." Your words drip with sarcasm.

His face drops and a mean glare spreads across his features as he throws your drawing pad in the air. You watch helplessly as the pages flutter in the wind as it flies away and disappears under the stands.

"Have a nice night." He says quietly, an attempt to be intimidating, as him and his friends leave.

Your veins alight with fury, hands balled into fists at your sides. You wanted to stamp your feet like a petulant child. This isn't fair. Why you?

It's only then you notice Jeon Jungkook standing on the field watching. Embarrassment suddenly extinguishes your angry flames as he breaks your gaze first, walking off under the bleachers. You grab your bag to leave for work before you suffer any more humiliation.

As you reach the last step you yelp with surprise as Jungkook appears suddenly in your view, you manage to steel yourself before tumbling into him.

You stare at him, wishing he'd get on with it and tease you so you can go...but it doesn't come. Instead he hands you your sketchpad, gently dusting off the pages.

You take it, a hesitant, "thanks," ghosts from your lips.

"I'm sorry about him." He says quietly.

You shrug. "Not your fault, I guess."

Seconds tick by as you both stare awkwardly at each other, unsure what else could be said.

"You're pretty. I-I mean, it-it's pretty." He stammers, tapping the unfinished sketch in your book. "You're very talented."

Your cheeks flush an undignified fuchsia as you duck your head slightly, letting your hair hide you. "Thank you."

He offers you a weak smile before giving you a halfhearted wave and jogging off across the field, leaving you watching his back, perplexed at the exchange you've had.

You stare at your messages, every moment he can see you're online and not replying makes your cheeks flush crimson and makes your mind run frantic.

Meet me at the Happy Holidays dance.

Could you?

It’s the first holiday dance your university has put on--one you had no intention of going to, because you frankly didn't need the added teasing from the popular kids. It is a masquerade ball however, so no one had to know it was you, you could fall pleasantly under the radar.

Were you really considering this?

What did you have to lose? You can hide behind the comfort of your mask. If he discovers it's you, it's his problem if he doesn't like that, Jimin is absolutely right.

Ok. Where will I find you?

You press send and chuck your phone down, throwing your head in your pillow to scream. Did you actually just do that!? No taking it back now, it's out there.

When you hear your text tone sound you scramble quickly back to it.

By the old sundial outside. At 10.00?

You grin dorkishly at your phone, typing a quick reply.

Sure. See you then.

You call your number one speed dial, two rings in and Jimin's voice sounds.

"I was just going to call you, how strange. Listen, do you remember that time I-?"

"I'm in need of some urgent assistance. I just agreed to go to the holiday dance!"

He cackles excitedly on the other end. "I'll be right over!"

As you step out of Jimin's car you have to lift your ice blue dress up to avoid the floor...and tripping. How Jimin pulled this costume together in time, you'll never know, he's taking that secret to the grave.

You swallow the nervous lump in your throat and adjust your matching lace mask, making sure it's comfortable.

"Ok, go get him tiger." He roars, as he swipes a clawed hand in front of you.

You giggle at his silly antics and take a deep breath before giving him a final nod and heading into the dance.

From the moment you walk in, you want to go home. This is a bad idea. He won't be interested when he finds out it's really you.

You have no time to continue your anguished thoughts as you get swept up in the crowd, fighting your way through to grab a drink. Standing to the side and surveying everyone's costumes, noticing a lot of dark or bright colour choices, you being one of the only people in a pale colour, making you stand out more. Something you were definitely hoping to avoid.

A few songs later and the clock in the hall catches your eye, noticing you had fifteen minutes until you meet your mystery man.

You head outside, footsteps echoing along the cobbled floor, and see that the outside is empty save for a few smoking and talking.

You get to the large, metal sundial and wait. Stomach churning from the butterflies that swarm wildly inside.

"Blue hour artist?" You hear your Tumblr tag spoken behind you and freeze.

You're about to meet him, come face to face with the person who understands you more than anyone, who opens up to you in ways most people wouldn't and who's creativity knows no bounds.

You turn slowly, not knowing who to expect but definitely not who you're faced with.

"Jeon Jungkook!? You're 'game over guk'?" You ask, your mouth popped open in shock.

He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "that's not fair, you're wearing a mask. How will I know who you are?"

You stare at him, trying to find words to answer his question, but the fact that it's him stood before you blows you away.

How could this be? The person you've been talking to online is the complete opposite to Jungkook and yet, here he is, one and the same.

"You'll h-have to guess." You try to get yourself together.

His mouth stretches into a toothy smile. "Ok, how about we play '21 questions' to help me guess?"

You nod, playing with your fingernails out of nerves.

"Do you want to sit down?" He asks, looking over at one of the benches.

"Um, no, I'd rather walk, if you don't mind?"

"Oh, sure." He agrees eagerly and you head off down the pathway around the building.

A few awkward side glances between the two of you and he finally asks, "Do we have any classes together?"

"No."

"Ok, narrows it down slightly."

You take this opportunity to look at what he's wearing and he's every part the Prince charming. In a white satin shirt, with light blue trousers and a one shoulder half capelet to match, complete with silver, trim detail. Surprisingly similar to your choice of dress, what a strange coincidence.

"You take art I assume?" He asks, into the comfortable silence.

You nod. "That's an obvious one." You refer to your Tumblr page full of your fan art and projects.

He smiles bashfully and your stomach flips at the sight, feeling like a true-life Disney princess with heart eyes and birds singing above your head.

"I don't know many girls in art." He admits,

"Ok, what about outside uni, do you go to any popular hangouts?"

Your cheeks flush, knowing you're admitting how dorky and uncool you are. "Nope."

"Ok, harder than I thought." He laughs, revealing his perfect teeth again. "Do you have a job?"

Nodding again, you play with the hem of your lace sleeve, channeling your nerves into the action.

As you're about to answer, your heel gets stuck in between the paving stone, causing you to buckle. Panic strikes you. You cannot fall over and embarrass yourself! Not when finding out who you are will be embarrassing enough. Luckily, you steady yourself against a nearby lamppost before falling on your face but at the cost of leaving your shoe stuck in the ground.

You tuck your leg up under your dress, steadying yourself against the street light, directly underneath the assaulting brightness, illuminating you like a spotlight.

Jungkook rushes over to your lonesome blue stiletto and retrieves it before crouching on one knee in front of you.

You stare at him, eyes wide and alarmed by his sudden closeness as he holds out your shoe in the most sincere way.

You bring your foot down and arch it back into its rightful holster. As you do, his fingertips graze your ankle, sending a flush of heat cascading up your body and neck, stopping only at your hairline.

He lingers there, looking up at you with huge doe eyes, but with a severe intensity you've never noticed from him before.

His fingers skate up your leg slightly as he rises, sending a delicious shiver through you. His fingers tips hint at your hand, you yearn to reach out and hold it, as he stands mere centimeters away from you. His intoxicating scent swirling around you like your own personal hurricane, taking your composed state and tearing through it, leaving it whimpering weakly on the ground. His face is too close to yours and yet not close enough. You feel feverish from his proximity and yet you need him closer to sate your heat.

Your breast vibrates from the aggressive pounding of your heart. Having him here on his knees in front of you, something not even acceptable in your wildest dreams and yet, here he is.

The person you've gotten to know so well, such a contrast to the person you've seen around campus. But then again, he seems to like the person he's gotten to know too, maybe he won't be as disappointed when he realises who you are? Maybe you can kid yourself into thinking that.

A chiming sounds in the distance, barely there and yet it creeps further into your subconscious.

"Your phone is ringing." He whispers, his breath tickling your face, as his eyes still blaze into yours.

'My phone. My phone? Oh, my phone!' Your muddled thoughts clear themselves enough for you to understand his words. You pull it out of your little silver handbag and see Jimin's number on screen.

"Hello?" You ask, staring dreamily at Jungkook who is rooted firmly in his spot.

"Ok, I apologise if you're throat-deep around prince charming’s dick but I really need to make it home before midnight so my dad doesn't turn me into a pumpkin...and by that I mean, pounded, pulped and pressed into pumpkin pie."

You snap out of it suddenly, realising Jimin's words and not wanting him to get in trouble because of you. "Of course. I'm coming, right now."

Jungkook's eyes flit back to reality with a deep frown. His hand clasps yours as you hang up and tuck your phone back into your bag. Your legs, already moving towards the front entrance where he would be waiting.

"Wait," Jungkook's pleading pierces right into your chest, feeling your resolve bubble up to the surface, enticing you to stay and see where the night takes you. But you don't.

"I can't, I have to go." You say, gently slipping your hand from his and jogging elegantly to the front parking lot.

When you see Jimin's dads silver Rolls Royce, you're suddenly eager to get in and share your news.

"So...did you meet him!?" An excited Jimin shakes your arm as you close the door behind you.

"Yes. You will never guess who he is." You fasten your belt and Jimin pulls off quickly, both of you wincing as he narrowly misses a barrier post on the way out of the campus.

"Who?"

You smile to yourself, heart fit to burst. "Jeon Jungkook."

Jimin's foot taps on the brakes, lurching you forward.

"I'm sorry. What?" He turns to you, eyes wider than you've ever seen them. "As in, popular boy, sex god Jungkook?"

You scoff. "Who told you he was a sex god?"

"I'm making assumptions. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." He grins as he elbows you in the ribs and sets off driving you home, while excitement rapidly blooms inside you.

You dropped your necklace.

You read the words over and over, unsure what your response should be. You needed that necklace. The simple silver chain holding the tiny teardrop pearl. It was all you had left of your dad. When he died, your step-mother sold most of his things, including gifts he bought for you. This was your last, most cherished item. The only reason you were allowed to keep it is that you were wearing it at the time and you haven't taken it off since. Losing it had your chest aching. You stared at Jungkook's last message until sleep over took you.

Monday morning. Eyes gritty and burning, you wake to the sea of sleep trying to entice you back to its darkening depths but you fight your fluttering eyelids and get ready for a new day.

How are you going to look at Jungkook now? You should tell him who you are. Yes, you'll do that and get your necklace back and it'll be happily ever after.

Only it won't.

From your experience happily ever after doesn't happen for most people, even accomplished, brilliant, beautiful people. You're entirely average and ordinary, why would it happen for you?

By the time you get to campus, your manic mind has been changed numerous times. You decide to wait until you see him, which you spend every moment of your arrival scanning the faces that pass you.

"Hey, hey, Jelly Bean. Looking for me?" Jimin's cheerful face comes into full view, distracting you.

He's clearly unimpressed with whatever expression you're portraying currently, as he pouts and turns to the sea of faces. "Clearly, I no longer matter, now you've got big dick Jungkook."

You hush him loudly, looking around to ensure there were no listening ears. "Firstly, I'm begging you, stop talking about his dick and secondly, stop being stupid."

He laughs at your stressed rant. "Ok, ok, jeez. Is he meeting you this morning?"

Your body tenses, knowing, already hearing the lecture he's about to scold you with.

"You didn't tell him, did you? He still has no idea it's you!?" He sighs, throwing his hands in the air dramatically, typical Jimin fashion. "I swear to god...If you don't tell him, I will."

Your head snaps over to him as you walk side by side into the building, glaring menacingly in his direction. "You wouldn't dare."

He shrugs. "Try me, scaredy cat."

You huff and scrub at your tired eyes. "Let me just get through my classes then we shall discuss this."

He laughs as he tussles your hair and heads off in the opposite direction.

Your day passes fairly quickly, even though your struggle to stay awake during lectures only grows.

You do not see Jungkook, which is not unusual as you're not even in the same wings of the building most of the time.

Jimin's frantic waving has you puzzled as a deep frown creases your brow as you walk towards him, his jumping and pointing most unusual. It's only when you see a set of hands directly in front of you and feel your necklace land on your chest as it's draped across your collar bones, that you stop in your tracks.

Those hands, warm at the back of your neck and a mouth next to your ear saying, "I told you I'd look after it and return it." Unmistakably Jungkook's voice whispers in your ear making you quiver.

When his hands are gone you look down and find relief washing over you with the familiar feel of your necklace, having felt bare and empty without it.

"Why didn't you reply to my messages?" He asks, stepping in front of you with a big bunny smile.

Wide eyed with shock, your mouth gapes open with the slow realization that he is, in fact, talking to you. "How-how did you…" Words fail you as you frantically think of any way you might have let slip your identity but coming up empty.

"How did I know it was you?" He asks, mouth pulled on one side in a smile. "When you dropped your necklace as you left the dance, I recognized it instantly. "

"Wh-what?" You squeak out. You attempt to swallow your confusion enough to form a coherent sentence. "On what planet would someone like you notice anything about someone like me."

A look of hurt flashes across his face, almost as if you'd slapped him as he takes a step towards you, a hair's width away now. "How could I not notice you? You're beautiful and smart, you don't follow the crowd and you're kind to everyone, I've noticed everything the last two years. I've just never spoken to you properly because….well...what do I have to offer someone like you, with endless talents and interests, a charming personality to boot and just when I think that's all there is, I discover something else about you. I'm just the school jock, popularity gets me opportunities, I don't have to work hard for anything...I feel...inferior to you. Worthless."

Your heart aches, hearing the words you feel escaping his mouth. How could that be possible? How on earth could he be so utterly mistaken, so completely wrong about himself?

"But gameoverguk is nothing like that person you're describing. If that's truly who you are?" You question quietly.

He nods, placing a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to him.

"Hi, I'm Jeon Jungkook, I'm a gamer geek, I'm good at sports, I enjoy bike rides on the weekend and finding new food spots and I'd really like to take you out sometime...if you'll let me."

You feel your lips stretch into an undeniable grin. "Nice to finally meet you Jungkook. I'd love to."

As you aim the plastic machine gun, keeping it steady in your armpit and pointed towards the screen, you and Jungkook race through the game, taking down your enemies at every chance. When your team name, "Blue Hour Gamer" flashes in neon letters on screen as the winners, your hollering and hooting fill the arcade.

You don't even care that people are watching, not when you jump up and high five each other or when that high five turns into a hug, or when that hug very quickly turns into a kiss. You don't care.

You pull away quickly, embarrassment finding its way to dust your cheeks scarlet. Until you feel his hand press your lower back to him, your bodies crushing together and moving in perfect sync, making their own rhythm and inviting you to sing with it.

Heat blazes inside you like a wildfire, capturing everything else in its path and turning into thoughtless ash in the wind. Nothing else mattered, just him, his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, caressing so gently and yet setting your skin aflame.

Before you knew it, you were at his small, studio apartment, realising you had no clue he lived alone but thankful for that just the same.

When your back finds the bed, you sink into it, disappearing into a cloud of euphoria as he roams your body, slow and meaningful. Every touch makes you feel things you never have before, and every movement brings you closer to the edge of the precipice.

The way his mouth feels on you as he explores your body sends sparks of electricity racing through you. The way he feels inside you with each perfect, controlled movement lights you up like the sunrise after dark, warming you with its rays as you stare off the cliff edge and brace yourself for the impact. His hand caresses your cheek as he looks deeply into your eyes, something so sweet and pure in the action that your chest swells with emotion. His forehead touches yours as he moves in perfect time with your pounding heart. Suddenly you're falling, everything going past in a rush before crashing onto a sea of ecstasy, writhing and moaning until your climax subsides and his has joined in unison.

A tender kiss on your head, his arm winding around you, pulling you to him and encasing you in the perfect safety net is enough. Maybe he'll be your happily ever after, after all.

551 notes · View notes

libraryofnesta · 3 years ago

Text

Tied to Ruin

ao3 link

Summary:

Cassian and Nesta were lovers, partners in crime. They did everything together. That is until tragedy strikes, causing Nesta to run away, far from everything she once knew.

Over five years later, Nesta is living life to as full as it can get. It’s not until an incident occurs that drags her into far more than she bargained for.

Notes:

thanks so much for reading. i'm a huge hoe for exes to lovers, so i have like 20 ideas in my head, and this is one of them. It's multichapter. i'm not sure how long this is gonna be, but definitely over ten chapter. this fic has two timelines. One will show them from when they're kids to teens, and one while they're adults. Both will occur at the same time, so things will start to unravel as you read.btw! velaris is gonna be like a super small town in new york. like no one knows about it.

TW: implied domestic violence, nothing graphic.

Chapter 1: lonely beds, different cities

Words, how little they mean

When you're a little too late

I stood right by the tracks

Your face in a locket

Good girls, hopeful they'll be and long they will wait

Sad Beautiful Tragic

Taylor Swift

2016, Small Town Velaris

“Please,” she whispers, voice hoarse. Nesta is practically begging at this point, but she has nothing else to relent to. “We can get out of here.” She swallows hard when he doesn’t reply. “We’re still young Cassian, we can still-”

“Nesta.” He says. It's one word, but it makes her pause. He rarely calls her Nesta. It’s always ‘Nes’ or ‘Sweetheart.’

“I can’t.”

Their lives have changed so drastically over the past few weeks. Nesta’s whole childhood is here. Everything she’s ever known. She’s not sure how much more of it she can handle now.

She’s well aware of the tears streaming down her face. Nesta doesn’t know what she can say to convince him, so she says the one thing that she’s been repeating over and over.

“You can…”

Cassian’s face seems to harden. The look he gives her makes her take a step back. He hasn’t looked at her like that in years. “Go ahead and leave Nesta.”, he says, voice rising. “Go live that picture perfect you always wanted. I won’t stop you.”

“Not everyone wants what you do.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Something about leaving Valkyrians still makes her feel at odds. She’s not as resistant to the sight of blood anymore, and she’s not sure if she can ride a motorcycle as well as she used to. There are still parts that linger though. She still remembers how to throw a punch. A damn good one too. She still feels uneasy when someone walks in the same direction for too long though. It might be the worst part of it all.

Nesta doesn’t do much for fun. She doesn’t dance as much as she likes. The amount of books she reads has decreased. Her days consist of work and eating, even though she skips more meals than she should. But she’s free. That’s what really matters, doesn’t it?

The muscles in Nesta’s body ache. She just finished a seven hour shift, and got a promotion that pays much better. Nesta wants to celebrate. She wants to talk to someone. It’s been so long since she’s talked to anyone. The fear of someone finding out about her past is lodged so deep in her head it caused her to isolate. The simple way of putting it is she has no friends.

Coworkers are the only source of non-work related conversation she engages in. It’s always small talk too. Just as Nesta is about to fall asleep, she rubs her eyes and forces herself to stay awake. Getting up from the lumpy couch, Nesta walks to her cabinet, grabbing a random mug and pouring wine into it. Once she gets a better look at the mug, she can’t help but scoff.

It’s ironic. Complaining about being lonely. It’s almost like she chose loneliness. She loves the quiet. When she was younger, all she wanted was alone time. She dreads it now. Nesta gets up after finishing her glass. She’s a bit drowsy, and is way too tired to walk all the way to her room. Instead Nesta walks back over to her couch. She lies horizontally, staring into the abyss until she eventually falls asleep.

She dreams of seeing him that night. It’s a regular occurrence. It’s lessened over the years, but never fully disappeared. The image of him is blurry. It’s not as precise as it used to be. She hates still thinking of him. It doesn’t stop her from reminiscing a little though.

Her being upset makes sense of course. They’d known each other for over ten years, hating one another at first. Eventually, he began to grow on her. Their bickering had become playful, before they once again became estranged.

“Cassian?”

The figure turns around, and he knocks the wind out of her. His hair is out of it’s usual bun. He gives her that familiar boyish smile, walking towards her and putting an arm on her.

“Missed me Sweetheart?”, he says, ruffling her hair a bit. Nesta scrunches her nose in response.

“You wish.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah whatever.” He talks for a while. Nesta’s barely paying attention. It’s just nice to hear his voice again. He asks her what she’s reading, and she replies the same every time. It’s silent after a while. They’ve talked themselves out. It’s a nice silence though. Her favorite silence.

Cassian stares at her for a few seconds, giving her a soft smile and pushing a loose hair behind her ear.

“Come back,” he whispers.

Her breath stutters. “It’s been five years, Cass,” she mutters, breaking eye contact. Her eyes flicker between the ground and his face, gauging his reaction.

He doesn’t stop looking at her.

“I didn’t want to leave,” said Nesta. There’s a lump in her throat.

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Yet here we are.”

“You know why I left.”

Her eyes feel like they’re beginning to water. “I asked you to come with me. You’re the one who didn’t.”

Cassian looks to the side. He looks impassive, yet also emotionless. “You’re the one who ran away, Nesta.”

“I didn’t run away.”

He scoffs in response. “Keep telling yourself that.” Cassian starts walking away. It’s cloudy and has no solid ground or sky. At that moment she remembers where she really is. Nesta stands there, waiting until he fully fades away. It always feels too real.

The dreams always end like that.

Nesta can barely pry her eyes open when she wakes up. She has the next two weeks off. Her boss, Helion, had insisted she take a week or two off, since the bar was under a small renovation. She checks her phone and it reads 12:03. Jesus, she really had overslept.

In all honesty Nesta had no idea what to do with her free time. Maybe she’ll finally finish that book she started months ago. But in reality Nesta knows all she’ll do is go to a bar and let a stranger fuck her into oblivion until she kicks them out or leaves.

By the time Nesta leaves her house it’s around 3:00. She goes to the coffee shop next door. She orders a coffee and sits in the corner of the room. Nesta somehow feels like the center of attention. It’s an empty shop, but it feels like all eyes on her. The room feels too cold.

The feeling follows her when she goes to the local bookstore. It’s crowded, but the area is quiet. Nesta browses through the shelves, sticking to the romance section. She holds a few books. It’s not until Nesta drops one, people begin to look at her. It makes a loud thump hitting the floor. Several pairs of eyes turn to her. The cover is of a shirtless man too.

Fuck , she thinks, This is embarrassing. Nesta purses her lips, hand curling into a fist as she puts the book back on it’s shelf.

It’s around 5:00 when she takes the train home. Nesta spent the rest of her day at the park, not wanting to stay at home. It doesn’t feel like home as much as she’d like it to though. Finally, Nesta makes it home.

She’s in an empty parking lot. The area she lives in is pretty small. Nesta knows basically everyone in her apartment complex. It’s a tiny place. She never talks to anyone, but they do acknowledge each other. Barely anyone has a car either, herself included. So it is a bit weird to see an unrecognizable car. It’s odd, but Nesta thinks nothing of it. It’s probably just someone visiting.

Nesta goes into her apartment, before leaving once more to go to the bar that’s the second closest to her apartment. She’s usually working at this time, flirting with customers and taking them home when her shift ends.

The bar is crowded and loud. Lights are flashing, voices yelling, bodies moving. It’s out of her comfort zone. She’s been doing this for years and is still isn’t used to it. She sits on one of the stools where the drinks are served. A girl approaches her. Nesta never approaches anyone. She can’t see clearly in the light. The girl’s hair is brunette, though her roots are dark. Her brown skin illuminates in the flickering light.

“Hey”, she says “I’m Nora” Nora extends her hand to her. Nesta smirks in response, resting her elbow on the counter grasping her hand with the other.

“I’m Mila,” she says. No matter what she does, Nesta will never use her real name. Nora’s eyebrows raise. Nesta can see her lick tongue move as it pushes on her skin.

“Pretty name.”

They talk for around five minutes. It’s all small talk. They drink while they talk. Most of the things she responds with are lies anyways. Nora grasp’s her arm with her hand. “Wanna get out of here?” she asks. Her words are slurred, and Nesta has to restrain herself from flinching.

Something in her head tells her not to let anyone in her house though. Something is wrong, but she can’t put her mind on it. The idea of letting a stranger in her house sends goosebumps across her arms. Before, she’d never question it twice. Now that she thinks of it, doing this practically screams stranger danger. Especially with her past, this person could be anyone. Nesta slowly probes herself from the girl.

“I’ve gotta go”, she says. “Sorry, but there's something I need to do.” The girl doesn't seem to mind, either too drunk to care, or only looking for a one night stand. She nods, before introducing herself to someone else. Nesta feels her chest lighten, exiting the crowded bar to call an uber.

Whenever it’s quiet, she always reminisces.

2006, Small Town Velaris

Nesta wakes up and finds herself stranded. She has no idea where she is. She’s lying in a bed inside a mostly empty room. There’s only a few pieces of furniture, a stool and a drawer. It’s relatively small. The last thing she remembers is being in a car with her sisters and parents. She hears voices outside of the room yelling.

“You expect me to leave-”

“Her father is-”

“She’s nine what would she-”

“So what if she’s young!”

“-s innocent so what if-”

She hears a loud smack. The silence after is deafening. The voices are quiet after, whispers. Afterwards, Nesta hears footsteps approaching. She scrunches her eyes shut, trying to pretend to be asleep. Nesta hears the door open and close. A hand lays on her forehead. As the person removes it, a calming voice talks. “Are you awake?” Nesta slowly looks at the person, opening only one eye, then another. She sees a woman with black hair and tan skin. Her cheeks are flushed and she has a small smile on her face.

The woman squats down so she’s the same height as the bed Nesta is laying on. “Hi,” the woman whispers, voice solemn and comforting. “My names Aurora,” she says. Nesta squishes her lips together. She’s confused and feels like crying. Nesta doesn’t cry though. She’s pretty sure her eyes water though, because Aurora strokes her hair and whispers, “It’s okay to cry.”

Nesta gasps and shakes her head. “Mommy says I’m not supposed to cry.” Aurora seems to be shocked silent. The silence makes Nesta become aware of everything that is happening. She slowly sits up. Once her feet are off the bed, Nesta quickly sprints to the door, opening it and running out. She has no idea where she’s going.

Suddenly, Nesta is hit with a hard impact, and falls down on her butt. She looks up and sees two boys. They’re both around the same height. They have the same dark hair too, except one is longer than the other. Nesta gets up and brushes off the dust on her leggings.

She notices it then. The leggings. She’s never worn pants before.

It’s also when she notices the juice smeared across one of the boy's shirts. It’s the long haired one’s. He drops the red cup to the ground and makes an angry noise. “That was my favorite shirt.”

Nesta feels sheepish as she whispers a quiet, “Sorry.”

The one with longer hair whispers to the other boy, obviously meaning for her to hear too. “She’s probably not even double digits.” The other boy is quiet, looking at the ground. He seems nervous and shy.

Nesta feels a sense of outrage course through her. She pouts, crossing her arms. “I’m almost ten. I’m nine and a half” The boy crosses his arms too.

“Well I’m ten and a half,” he says.

“Cassian,” Aurora scolds. “Play nice.” She puts a hand on Nesta’s shoulder and bends down. “I need to talk to…” She doesn’t continue.

Nesta turns towards her, and realizes she needs her name. “Nesta,” she says.

Aurora smiles, “That’s a wonderful name.”

Cassian still seems angry. “I think it’s stupid.” Aurora sighs and gets up. “Azriel”, she says to the other boy. He hadn’t talked the whole time, Nesta almost forgot he was there. “Make sure he stays out of trouble. And Cassian, please change your shirt.” The two (stupid) boys walk away. Once they’re from a far enough distance, Aurora looks back down at her. “I have to talk to you about something.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Nesta walks into her apartment tired and half asleep. Once inside her apartment, she changes into more comfortable clothes, sweatpants and a grey t-shirt.

Nesta’s about to go to bed, until she hears the sound of glass shattering and liquid spilling. She freezes, thinking about the mug of wine she left out.

No.

Nesta scrambles towards the kitchen and grabs a flashlight from a cabinet, flashing the light to the ground. The mug is shattered to pieces, and she can still see little droplets of wine. The words aren’t visible anymore, letters broken and unreadable.

There’s no way it could’ve fallen on its own. It was in the middle of her counter. Unless...

Suddenly it all makes sense. The unrecognizable car in the parking lot. The uneasy feeling in her stomach. The constant nagging in her head, telling her that something is wrong.

She thinks about calling the police but goes against it. Years in a fucking biker gang taught her better then to trust those scumbags.

She always kept a gun in her house. Just in case. She really hates how no matter what she does. she’ll always be connected to this.

The person inside her apartment most definitely knows where she is. Nesta grabs a broom, sweeping the glass shards into an empty bag. She can fix it later. Tying it up, Nesta leaves it on her counter.

There's a wall blocking the entrance to her bathroom. She walks towards it, opening and closing the door so it seems she went inside. Grabbing her gun from the small drawer, Nesta lays her back against the wall, barely peeking out the wall, but just enough so she can see them as they crawl out from behind her couch.

The figure moves stealthily, back turned towards her. If she weren’t directly staring at it, there would be no way of knowing it was there. The moves look familiar, but she can’t put her mind on it. The moonlight shines on them so she can see the most obvious features. It’s not until the floor creaks the figure turns towards her direction. Nesta turns back to face her bathroom door, hands drawn to tight fists. There’s no way they hadn’t seen her. She moved too slow. Nesta peeks her head out to look again.

It’s not until she sees a familiar pair of scarred hands in the moonlight, it all comes together.

“Azriel Night?”

In dreams

I meet you in warm conversation

We both wake

In lonely beds

In different cities

And time

Is taking its sweet time erasing you

And you've got your demons

And darlin' they all look like me

PSA!! go to ask’s to be added to tag list

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 4 years ago

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Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 11:

“So, what, you’ve just known about your soulmate for over a week? And you didn’t tell me!” Your best friend huffs, slouching into the booth across from you.

The café you had decided to meet Selene in seemed abnormally loud today, but even through the noise you could hear her frustration. And you understood it too- she’d been listening to you fantasize about your soulmate for years now, so much so that it must have gotten annoying. But she listened anyway, and apparently you repaid that favor by not even telling her when your tattoo appeared, nor when you actually met him.

You couldn’t help it though. As much as you wanted to gush about it to everyone, another part of you wanted to keep it a secret. You didn’t wanna share Bakugou yet, as selfish and ridiculous as that sounded.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry; but honestly, it was just super surreal. Like I didn’t know how to talk about it.” You meet her eyes, grateful to see that even through her frustration, Selene still just looked happy for you.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Had to give you a little shit, but really I’m excited for you.” She takes a sip of her drink, leaning forward on your elbows. “Can I see the tattoo?”

You pale.

It really was an ugly tattoo. Messy and scribbly and poorly drawn, and odd even as far as soulmate tattoos go. Every other person you’d known with a soulmate tattoo - which, granted, wasn’t many- had a name. Even your soulmate himself had your name! But you didn’t. You had his phone number, and no matter which way you thought about it, you couldn’t figure out why that was.

“Yeah, it’s uh, on my collarbone.” You unzipped your jacket, pulling it to the side to reveal the tattoo.

“It’s- it’s, um, not what I expected.”

“That’s what I said. It showed up on my birthday,” You shrugged. “Wasn’t there the night before, but when I woke up it was just sitting there.”

“Why a phone number?” She questions, poking at the mark with a gentle finger. “And why does it look like-”

“Like that?” You chuckle, pushing her hands away and zipping your jacket up once more. “I have absolutely no idea. I’ve never seen anyone else with a phone number before; even Bakugou has my name.”

“Um, who?”

“His name’s Bakugou. My soulmate, I mean.”

“Wait- you talked to him? And you still didn’t tell me? You bitch!” Selene throws her head back, a laugh tumbling out of her lips. “I thought you’d just been hiding the tattoo, I didn’t know you were hiding him too!”

“Shut up- you’re being so loud!”

“I can’t help it! This is just so exciting!”

“Yeah. It is.”

“Y/n,” You watched your friend straighten, a wicked smile crawling across her lips. “What’s that look about, huh, does somebody have a crush?”

You can feel you cheeks and ears flushing, but you don’t say anything. Selene just stares at you, wide manic grin across her face that just seems to make you blush even more. It’s a stalemate until she reaches across the table, poking at your red cheek. You break.

“God, fine, maybe- I don’t know, okay!” You huff, looking down to avoid her eyes. “We’ve talked like everyday since my tattoo came in, but I still feel like I don’t knowing anything about him!”

“Huh-”

“He’s so, like, dodgy- about everything I ask him. It was like pulling teeth just to get his name! And it’s not even his full name! Just his last.” You pulled at your jacket, sinking into your seat. “Bakugou just like, avoids everything I ask him! I’ve told him about my quirk, and what I’m studying, but he won’t tell me anything! He just like gives me a two-word answer or calls me a name- which is fine, I actually find that part funny- but still. He gives me nothing. Absolutely fuck all nothing unless I literally beg for it!”

“Woah, okay, breathe, Y/n. ” Selene holds a placating hand towards you. “Look, I’m sure he has his reasons. I mean, they’re probably shitty reasons since he’s like a 20 year old gu-”

“21.”

“Yeah, okay, since he’s 21, and definitely immature, but they’re still his reasons.”

“Who the fuck cares about reasons? I mean we’re literally soulmates. We’re gonna know everything about each other eventually, so I have no idea why he’s being so cagey! Actually, now that I think about it, it’s really kind of irritating!”

You gasp suddenly, not realizing how involved your rant had gotten. Apparently you were more upset than you realized, or at least significantly more annoyed.

You think back to how you felt yesterday- after you’d read Sunshine at the end of his text. You were light and airy and happy, but all of that seemed to have faded. God, what you wouldn’t give to feel like that now.

Selene waves a hand in front of your face, up and down in front of your eyes until you meet her gaze.

“I get that. I understand where that would come from, but all that really matters is whether or not you like talking to him- do you like talking to him?”

“Yes.” You say simply, surprised by how easy the conclusion was to come to. “I do.”

“Then don’t stress, sweetie.” Selene pats your hand. “Tell me about the things you do like.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Your smile is small, timid, unsure, but you find the words come easy. “I like that he’s funny- and that he swears a lot. And that might be even more funny, because sometimes I’ll look at my texts and I swear it’s like there’s a 12 year old on the other end.”

Selene just smiles, nodding to urge you on.

“I like that he gets super shy if I say anything nice to him- it’s like he freezes up and just swears everywhere and types in all caps.” You feel your cheeks heating up as you speak, but that doesn’t stop you. “I like that he’ll text me if I don’t text him- and that he responds fast when I do. And I like that he’s blunt- there’s less words for me to get anxious over that way.”

“Alright. I’ve decided.”

“Excuse me?”

“I like him for you.” She shrugs. “And I have good opinions so don’t argue.”

“But he still-”

“Yeah, I get it. But at the end of the day he’s still your soulmate, right?” She leans forward, tapping your forehead. “So stop overthinking it. You wouldn’t have that tattoo if he wasn’t supposed to be good for you.”

“Yeah.” You feel the sudden urge to hug her, overcome with yet another reason why you loved her so much. “I was being sort of ridiculous wasn’t I?”

“No, not ridiculous. It’s a valid complaint.”

You nod.

“He does need to start telling you more, especially if you’re already telling him about you.” Selene brushes her hair back with an errant hand. “But I also think you tend to fixate on reasons to leave instead of looking for reasons to stay- and I’m not gonna let you do that this time.”

You just look up at her, finding nothing but Selene’s gentle smile.

It hits you then that she’s right. You did always search for the bad instead of making your own good. With relationships. With friendships. Even with school- but she was right. You couldn’t do that this time. It wouldn’t just affect you, it’d affect Bakugou too.

“Hey, I love you, you know?” You suddenly tell her.

“I know. You’re my ride or die, bitch, of course you do.” She laughs. “Now c’mon, lets go actually order, and you can let me read through all those texts you were talking about.”

“No!”

She just laughs, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the register.

--/--

Later that night you’re sitting with your phone in hand, nerves making a tangled mess of your insides.

You were stalling.

There was a part of you, a big part of you that just wanted to ask him. Ask him about his full name, and his quirk, and his job, or his school if that’s where he was- about his life, and just not take no for an answer. Wanted to needle and pry and be annoying until you had one fact about him to match every one you’d already given him about yourself.

But there was another part of you too. Another part that wanted to see him call you Sunshine and keep him happy instead of possibly irritating him. And that part was screaming just as loud.

You groaned, setting your phone down once again, and rolling onto your side. Your eyes caught on to the TV. You’d switched it on earlier, hoping the background noise of the local news could help settle your nerves, but it didn’t work. As of now though, you were quickly held captive by the footage you saw.

On screen was a recap of a battle that had occurred a few days ago- and it didn’t look good. The villian was terrifying; a black, oozing mass of tar that seemed to swallow people and objects whole. It was running a rampage through the city, it’s undeniable strength completely unchallenged by the police force- until suddenly? An explosion. Multiple explosions. Big, loud, noisy explosions and chaos and bright light until the villain was shot clean through with a grenade blast. The villain fell, engulfed by a cloud of smoke and debris.

You watched as the smoke cleared from the camera footage, only seeing the vaguest outline of a man before they were jetting offscreen by the force of their own explosions.

“Burgeoning pro-hero Dynamite yet again saving the day, and then quickly leaving the scene.” The newscaster announced, voice drowning out the sound of the disaster footage.

The scene switches as the fight recap footage ends. The usual roundtable of reporters is shown instead, and they quickly begin discussing the fight.

“It’s not altogether surprising,” A woman says. “In fact, it’s almost better if he leaves, don’t you think? I mean, surely no one’s forgotten what happened in Hosu right?”

Another reporter winces. “Yep, definitely not. Even a year out from the incident it’s still hard to see him in the same light as before.”

You shift on your bed, suddenly scared half to death by the loud sound of your phone hitting the floor.

Fuck.

Even after the quick break, you still couldn’t decide what to say to him.

Luckily, he didn’t let you worry about that for much longer.

#katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bnha fic #mha fic #bakugou soulmate textfic #bakugou soulmate au #mha soulmate au

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years ago

Text

Real? Not Real?

Prompt: Uh hello, I just wanna day that I really really love your work. I came across it this morning and I’ve been binging it all day, and you are a REALLY good writer :) if it’s not too much to ask (and feel free to ignore this), could I request one of the Sides (preferably Janus) having a bad day and derealizing and another one (preferably Patton or Remus, but really any work) comforting them and helping them get grounded? Maybe something that is after the wedding, with everyone at odds with each other so no one notices at first?

Thanks for the prompt, babe!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: disassociation, derealizing, some things that could be interpreted as self-destruction

Pairings: none, other than platonic moceit and dukeceit

Word Count: 2287

The wall is yellow.

The wall isn’t yellow.

The wall is yellow.

Janus pushes his door closed and sighs, leaning against the wood and taking his hat off. He scruffs a hand through his hair and lets his head thunk against the door.

“Well,” he mutters, “that wasn’t exhausting.”

The conversation had dragged on for hours; from picking apart every little idiosyncrasy and explaining every other word, it’s a wonder he had any energy left to even sink to his room.

Well, he didn’t. That’s the point.

He heaves himself up off the floor, stumbling a little when his body decides that no, actually, we’re going to remain on the floor because we dislike you personally.

“Thank you,” he grits out as he fights the urge to collapse back to the floor, “no, really, I wanted to be able to fall over as soon as I tried to move.”

When the floor looks like it stops spinning for a few seconds at a time, he reaches for his cane and shuffles over to the desk. The chair creaks a little in protest as he all but collapses into it. He tosses his hat toward the coat rack, missing terribly, and rips his gloves off.

“Ah!”

Janus cups his hand around his wrist, biting back a curse as the glove catches on the underside of an older scale. He glances around. The first-aid kit is on the other shelf.

“Damn.”

He could just…stretch out and get it? Probably? He swallows and reaches. And reaches. And reaches.

Why—why can’t he touch the shelf?

Controlling limbs gets exponentially easier the longer and more disembodied they get. All the time.

Janus grits his teeth and concentrates, closing his eyes until his fingers bump against the shelf.

“Thank you,” he mutters as he brings the first aid kit back to his side. “That was certainly the picture of compliance.”

The first aid kit, because it is an inanimate object—or rather, a collection of inanimate objects—says nothing.

Trying to apply first aid one-handed is such fun. He ends up holding back the sleeve with his teeth as he rubs the ointment onto the patch left by the scale. The wrapper sticks to his fingers with the determination of a static-filled leech, refusing to budge even as he pries it off with one hand only for it to attach viciously to the other.

“Get off!”

It flutters down to lay infuriatingly close to the trash can.

Or is it in the trash can?

He reaches down to pick it up and put it inside. He can’t feel it through his gloves. So he takes them off. Maybe then it won’t get stuck. It lands in the trashcan noiselessly.

Muttering to himself, he gets his gloves on their spot on his desk and goes about getting the rest of this stuff off. Snakes aren’t supposed to run warm, so why can’t he feel anything?

He goes to undo the clasp on his cape only for his fingers to meet the soft fabric of his shirt. Oh. He must’ve taken it off already. Wait, did he even put it on when he left?

He glances over to see it hanging on the hook by the door. Exactly where it was when he woke up this morning. Or was it? Wasn’t it draped over his chair? No, that was when he was about to leave.

No, he put it on his doorknob, didn’t he? To make sure he didn’t forget it?

But he never forgets his cape.

Janus shakes his head, immediately regretting it when the action sends him into a dizzy spell. God, why is he so tired?

It doesn’t matter, he decides, because he was going to take his cape off but now he doesn’t have to because it’s already off. So he can take his shirt off now.

But first, he should take his gloves off. Trying to undo shirt buttons with gloves on is a tedious process.

His fingers scratch the bandage over a spot on his hand. That’s funny. He doesn’t feel any pain coming from it. Maybe it’s healed already?

No, no, he just put that bandage on.

“Get yourself together,” he scolds himself, going to undo the buttons, “you’re being ridiculous.”

Is he, though?

He spent so long observing and mirroring the others today, just to get in the habit of it when he needs to, that is it really a surprise that he can’t really remember what his own limbs are doing?

Yes. Yes, it is.

His shirt lies in the corner. He doesn’t remember putting it there. He’s still wearing it, he hasn’t gotten all the buttons off yet. His fingers touch his bare scales. Oh. Maybe he has.

Why does it look like it’s the wrong color?

Janus squints hard at the offending pile of fabric lurking in the corner. As he stares, the fabric moirés into a dizzying display. He blinks. That shirt isn’t patterned. It’s just a plain white shirt. Why is it doing that? Is it doing that? Are Janus’s eyes doing that?

He crosses the room, stumbling a little as he gets up—since when has that table been there?—and grabs the shirt. It folds and bends and warps around his fingers. It should be cool to the touch. The fabric is soft, normally.

He can only tell he’s supposedly squeezing it from the wrinkles that appear around his fists.

“This doesn’t belong here,” he mutters, going to put it in the laundry basket.

The laundry basket is not where it’s supposed to be.

“Fuck.”

Did he leave it downstairs? That’s always a risky move; Remus will capitalize on any opportunity to completely and utterly destroy any abandoned object. He turns to go rescue his laundry basket only for it to appear out of the corner of his eye.

Oh.

Has it been there the whole time?

Janus frowns. He looks at the laundry basket, he looks at the shirt, he looks at his cape, he looks at his gloves.

The bandage on his wrist should be itching.

It isn’t.

Why not?

Oh.

He smiles to himself and lets the shirt fall to the ground.

Right, how could he forget?

This isn’t real.

None of this is real. He doesn’t exist. He is a figment of Thomas’s imagination, created as part of an elaborate plan to explore personality facets for entertainment purposes. He is not real. He cannot exist in any way that matters.

That is why the first aid kit won’t speak to him. That is why his shirt creates patterns that are impossible. That is why the laundry basket keeps appearing and disappearing. They’re not real. None of it is real.

He is not real.

The walks flicker a pale white as he sinks slowly to the ground, staring up at the fake ceiling. The floor is not solid under him. His legs do not groan and scream in protest as he lies his nonexistent weight across them. His eyes do not fog up. His head does not throb. The door does not feel like a cage, trapping him in a spiral of down, down, down.

Nothing is real.

Least of all time.

…

…quiet.

“—nus!”

“Janus, are you in there?”

“Snake-Face, if you don’t open up right this instant, I swear—“

“Kiddo, you never came down for dinner, we’re worried, are you alright?”

“I’m gonna break this fucking door down.”

“Remus, no—!”

A loud thud does not startle him awake. His eyes do not fly open. His body does not refuse to respond as chunks of wood fly all over his room. The walls do not look like they’re transparent as someone peers at him. They are not real.

“Janus? Oh my goodness, Janus!”

Patton. Patton is also not real. That is okay.

Patton does not rush across the floor to him and fall to his knees. His eyes aren’t welled up with tears that he bravely tries to fight back, smiling down at him. Patton’s hands do not cup his face tenderly. He doesn’t say anything.

“Kiddo?”

He cannot speak. Real things cannot speak.

“Kiddo, can you hear me?” Patton does not stroke his thumb gently over his cheek. “Can you breathe?”

Real things do not breathe.

“Fuck,” Remus does not swear, “he’s derealizing again.”

“He’s what?”

“Derealizing.” Remus does not run to crouch beside them. Remus does not gently tuck his hands under his legs to lift them into a more comfortable position. “Gets stuck in his own head, caught up in his own lies.”

Patton does not help Remus. He does not cradle his head and lift it up. The pillow suddenly under his head is not real, not soft, not pleasantly cool. His hand does not stay in his hair, stroking gently.

“He’s overcorrecting,” Remus does not murmur, “convincing himself that nothing is real.”

“Oh, kiddo,” Patton doesn’t sigh, doesn’t ruffle his hair gently, “you’re real, kiddo, stay with us.”

“He’s not gonna believe you, Daddio.”

“Then what do we do?”

“You’re not gonna like it,” Remus doesn’t say.

He doesn’t get up and leave. Patton doesn’t stay, still stroking his hand through his hair soothingly. Is it soothing? Does it feel soft? Caring?

Patton—Patton is caring, right?

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart,” Patton doesn’t—does?—murmur, “you’ll get through this, okay? You’ll get through this, I know you will.”

“Here.”

Oh, Remus is back. Is? Isn’t? Is Remus real?

“Just hold this, okay?”

“It’s really warm, are you sure—?”

“That’s what the towel’s for.”

Remus doesn’t crouch back down next to him. Patton isn’t gripping whatever Remus just gave him in his fist. He doesn’t look worried.

Wait, why is he worried?

“Ah!”

He cries out in surprise when something freezing presses to his stomach. Cold. Cold, cold—

“Shh, easy, Snakey,” Remus soothes—wait, doesn’t soothe? Is Remus real?—immediately replacing the cold with something warm, warm, warm, “it’s okay, it’s gone now, you did great, just stay here, okay?”

“Re-Remus?”

“Yeah, Jan-Jan, it’s me, I’m right here, can you grab onto me?”

He can’t, he’s not real, Remus isn’t real, but Remus is right there—

“There you go,” Remus encourages when his fingers hook through the ends of his sleeves, “you got me, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why—what happened? Why are you here?”

“You never came down to dinner, kiddo,” Patton says, stroking his solidwarmreal hand through his hair again, “we got worried. No one could call you and the room wasn’t letting us sink.”

Well of course it wasn’t, it isn’t real.

Wait.

“How did—“ he gasps— “how did you know I was here?”

Patton frowns, tilting his head. “Because we care about you, kiddo, you’re important to us.”

How can he be important when he isn’t real?

“Hey,” Remus says sharply, giving his wrist a little tug, “no drifting off again, Snakey, stay here.”

“H-here?”

“Yeah.” Remus presses the hot pad into his stomach and oh, it’s so warm, it has to be real. “Right here, Jan-Jan. You feel this?”

“Yes.”

“This is real. This is real. I’m really here, I’m really holding this to your real stomach. You’re real. The floor is real. Patton’s real.”

Patton’s real?

“I’m real, sweetheart,” Patton says softly, still rubbing his hand through his hair, “and so are you.”

He opens his mouth to try and breathe. If he’s real, he should be able to breathe…right?

“That’s it, kiddo, good.” The hand in his hair moves again. “Just lie there and breathe for a moment, okay?”

He looks over at Remus. Remus starts to rub little circles into his stomach with the warm towel.

“Stay here, stay real, Snakey,” he encourages, “just focus on this.”

The floor becomes solid under him again. Patton’s hand, his voice, he can hear them. Feel them. He blinks at Remus, real Remus, still working patiently.

He must make some noise because Remus pauses, looking up at him. Then he takes the towel and reaches up to slowly, slowly brush it over his cheek.

The tears that spring to his eyes at the tenderness of the gesture certainly feel real.

“Oh, kiddo,” Patton whispers, pulling him into a solidwarmreal chest, “it’s okay, shh, you’re safe, you’re real, everything’s okay.”

He gasps again, trapped in the warmth of Patton’s embrace. Remus scoots in behind them, wrapping his arms tightly through the limbs that still don’t want to work.

“Why can’t I move,” he chokes out, “why can’t I move?”

“You’re exhausted, sweetheart,” comes Patton’s soft reply, “you overworked yourself today.”

“But I can’t feel them!”

“Here,” he whispers, gently squeezing one of his arms, “can you feel that?”

“O-only a little.”

“How about here…and here…there.”

Patton’s hands are so warm and solid and real.

“P-Patton?”

“Yeah, kiddo, I’m right here.”

“Remus?”

“I’m here too, Snakey, we gotcha.”

“Am I—is this—“ he swallows unsteadily— “is this…real?”

“Yeah, kiddo,” Patton murmurs as Remus strokes firmly up and down his back, “this is real.”

Patton is real, solid and warm against him. Remus is real, solid and warm behind him.

Janus opens his eyes and stares at the yellow wall.

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