#THEY HATE MY BITCH UNDERGROUND KNUCKLES

[rapidhighway]

i saw this poll the other day and i still dont know how to cope with it

[edgeray]

One Hell of a Butler Pt. 4

Arrogance (Arlecchino x Fem! Reader Blurb)

A/N: Having the shittiest week of my life I think, school has never deicded to screw me as hard as it does now. Should I be doing this instead of studying/preparing for a really big test tomorrow? No, but I needed to get this out of my system before I start locking in. Sorry for not very good writing. Wanted to give reader a personality, so sorry if not too much of Arlecchino, and not a lot like yourself. I had fun writing reader at least. Series Masterlist Content warning: semi-graphic violence done on the reader, blood, swearing, y'all probably hate me for the ending

When you stepped on this path, you knew that you would be endangering your life, though you had justified the risks with your perfected revenge–even if it meant prancing on the road to hell. With acknowledgement of this indubitable fact, you persisted on, even though you knew next to nothing about this walk of life. You, engaging with the underground and the scum of the city, pretending to be one of them, to be able to walk among them?

You had gotten arrogant. Having a demon butler does that to you, apparently. 

You always were a good bluffer, a good poker face, a pretty liar. You were smart, knew how to spin a half-truth into a neatly arranged pile of bullshit with a bow on top. Yet you should have known that that would be your downfall. After all, when your life and revenue relied on your word one would think you knew better than to deceive a client, no?

Well, it was their fault for believing it. Why did you have to be the one to pay? 

You really hate the taste of iron in your mouth. You wipe the blood from the corner of your lips with your knuckle and stagger back a bit to stand up more right, clutching your bruised cheek in your hand. 

“Are you done running away?” One of the men that surrounds you asks.

“Why, you tired already?” You snark back with a sneer that promptly gains you a kick to your stomach, sending an ache to your stomach. Tumbling to the alley floor, you grit your teeth to repress any more noises of agony. 

Only you had to have summoned the slowest demon on Earth. Damn it, what was taking her so long? You should have taken her with you tonight. 

Your eyes skitter around for anything you could use, but it seems that all you're surrounded by is garbage until you catch the glint of something. 

“Keep mouthing off. You won't be able to do that for much longer. He wants us to bring you in mint condition, but as long as you can still talk, we can do whatever we want with you,” the same man that kicked you responded, crouching down right before your lying figure. A hand grips your strands, your scalp burning as he tugs your head up to his eye level. 

“Fucking bitch.” If she doesn't show up in two minutes, you swear to hell you will act more of a demon than she is the next time you see her. 

A palm slams against one side of your face, and an audible slap reverberates throughout the alley way. Your cheek stings and your ears ring from the whiplash. Tears nearly well up in the corner of your eyes. One of your hands rummage through the pieces of junk behind you, before finding and clasping around the neck of a glass bottle. 

“That's all it took to shut you up, huh?” the man smirked maliciously. He raises another hand to assault you before you swing your arm, bringing the bottle to the side of his head. The glass shatters upon impact and your assailant reels back. Unfortunately, as you attempt another swipe at him, a hard fist meets your cheek, and you're out in an instant. 

Your last thoughts are on how to reprimand a demon. 

The first thought when you wake up is that your neck hurts. Though you can't see–likely because of a blindfold–you feel that you're tied up to a chair with some sturdy rope, and there's a rag of some sort in your mouth, secured behind your head. 

And damn it, you can still taste the blood in your mouth. 

So you've been kidnapped. 

Despite the incessant attempts of steadying your breath, you can't seem to relax your drumming heart and the anxiety that pricks underneath your skin. You squirm in your binds, causing the chair you're seated on to make an awful screech when it moves. It pierces your ear drums, and an expletive is muffled by your gag. 

Your futile struggling gains the attraction of someone in the room and footsteps begin to approach until they stop right in front of you. There’s the shuffling of some clothes, as you feel fingers reach in front and take out the rag from your mouth. 

Beneath the fear, you can't help the seething, brimming fury that builds inside of you. You spit in whoever’s face that decides to touch you. You know you've hit your mark when profanities are thrown your way. A smug grin makes its way up your face, until it's slapped off your face, the whiplash causes your ears to ring and your head to be foggy.  

“Stupid woman. I'll make it simple for you. I know you know what we want.”

Collecting some courage and a bit of your sass as a shield, you take a deep breath. Remaining silent, you ponder which client this one was. Knitting your eyebrows in puzzlement, you ask audaciously, “Who are you again?”

“I'll give you one chance. Tell us, and we'll let you go.”

You couldn't help yourself and let out an amused chuckle, throwing your head back. Your giggle dies after a few seconds and you lazily tilt your head towards his direction.

“So you really think I'm that stupid?” You shot back with a cutting remark. “You're a shit liar. You didn’t even once consider letting me go. Why would you let go of a skilled information broker when you have her right here? I would have considered giving you the answer, but I changed my mind since you decided to lie in front of my face. Fucker.”

The speaker audibly grinded his teeth and before you can mentally brace for it, a hard force slams into your chest, and you swear you hear something crack at the impact. Agony blossoms from your sternum, and the faintest tears well up in the corner of your eyes. The hit is enough to make the chair tumble back, making your head bang painfully against the hard, cold floor. 

The male walks towards you and stops right next to your ear. Something cold and gunpowder-y smelling presses against your skull–a gun, you think. “Keep acting like a smartass and you won't live for much longer.”

As you're about to answer, you feel the temperature drop immediately, the room suddenly becoming chilly. You've never been more grateful for the frigidity–it was about time she showed up, stupid demon servant taking so long. “You should worry about your life first,” you merely suggested with the most diabolic of smiles. 

The familiar sound of stilettos click against the floor, becoming louder and louder as it nears, and her fury is eminent–almost exuding out of her like the stench of death that follows. 

“Where are my guards? What did you do to them?” The man demands, his voice cracking from the evident fright, as he steps back. A bang pierces through the room, gunshot after gunshot is shot, presumably at Arlecchino, until the gun starts clicking. He must have ran out of bullets. You're not particularly worried for your butler, in fact, depraved glee is the only thing that you feel. The smile doesn't stop stretching over your face. You really wish you could see the sight; that is, Arlecchino's unharmed form and the man's shocked face. 

Arlecchino's response almost makes you forgive her for being late instantly. “Where are they? Don't worry. You'll be with them soon enough.” 

For the briefest point of time, you felt a smidge of sympathy for your attacker. No amount of bullets can kill her. 

Bloodcurdling screams echo throughout the room, making you cringe– although you were glad that the man was suffering, the noise is horrendous and earsplitting. The distinct noise of flesh being ripped off and then a god awful sound of a crunch follows after, silencing the man once and for all. The intense stank of iron fills your nostrils. 

“I apologize for subjecting you to such repulsive cries, my Lady. I couldn't contain myself,” Arlecchino’s voice finally reaches out to you and her footsteps approach you. Firstly, the blindfold is pulled up, giving back your vision as you can finally see for a while. The first thing you're met with is your butler's face, who is unsurprisingly unmarred. However, there is a tight knit in her brows in her otherwise blank expression, a tension unseen before in the demon. 

Concern, you skeptically guess, forms on her face. It's foreign, perhaps the first time you've seen it before on her. Seeing something like that, you suddenly experience a sensation more unsavory tasting than the metallic tang of your blood. It's bitter, perhaps. An inexplicable unease bubbles within you, and your skin burns like a scorching torch grazing up your skin. Why does her expression generate this sort of reaction? 

"You're late," you manage out, swallowing thickly any previous unease, your tone expressing evident annoyance. She hums in response. Raising a clawed finger, she slices your bounds easily, freeing you.

“My apologies,” she says, and you note that she lacks the usual refinement in her words. “Finding you proved to be a bit difficult.” 

There's a brief pause and she helps you stand and you regard the room you're in. The pungent smell of iron fills the room, coming from beyond the doorway in which you can see some of the remnants of the bodies that Arlecchino killed. You direct your attention away from such a horrid sight. How she was able to cause this massacre without making any noise, you couldn't fathom. 

It's not the first time she's been the center of a slaughter. In a disturbing way, it's almost nostalgic, reminiscent of your first meeting with Arlecchino, when you've summoned her at your greatest time of need. Broken and desperate you were, you screamed out your final plea which no god acknowledged before she did. You were pleading to live. But now, just minutes before, you were practically taunting death. Have six months accompanying a demon changed you that much? 

A brief contact pulls you away from your thoughts when you feel something cold press against the corner of your lips. You flick your attention to Arlecchino as your heart leapt at the sudden movement. Her thumb wipes away the blood that seeps with a tender stroke. 

"You're hurt," the demon says almost matter-of-factly if it weren't for how curt it seemed–like there was an urgency with those two words. You repress the urge to question her odd behavior. 

“Incredible observation,” you sarcastically remark and you try to brush away her hand, except she grips your chin in between her fingers. Turning your head, before you could react, you feel something cold, yet soft press gently into your bruised cheek. It's a fleeting touch, but instantaneously, you feel heat blossom from the source of contact–incredibly hot, as if your skin is lit ablaze just from mere lips. Arlecchino pulls away quickly, and your fingers dab the tingling skin where she touched. You expect to feel the aching soreness, but instead, you feel nothing–as if the bruise was never there in the first place. 

“What did you do?” You ask in puzzlement. The butler's lip curls up into an amused smirk, most likely enjoying your confusion. 

“I healed you.” 

“I wasn't aware a demon had the ability to do that.” Let alone with that method, anyways…

“Just another ability of mine as a demon. You know…”

She extends one hand out, using her pointer finger to tilt your chin up, invoking you to gaze into her red-crossed irises. They flicker with a wanton desire when they find your eyes, and there's a deliberate sweep of her tongue over her red lips. Shivers run down your spine as she approaches closer, and her other arm circles your waist with the other hand flat against your lower back. She leans in until she's gazing directly down at you, hot air tickles your nose as she exhales. 

Your heart pounds in your ears, making every other sense of yours except touch fade. Your sensitivity to touch is heightened, making every small brush create goosebumps. Your lips part into a small gasp from her action. Why do you suddenly feel so inexplicably hot? 

“Your lips seem bruised as well.” 

She leans down to close the distance. Your heart races and races until you’re convinced it'll explode as she nears. At the last moment, you jerk your head away. 

“No. No, they're not,” you exhale out breathlessly in between pants. Your cheeks burn fiercely, hardly able to hear your own words from your thundering heartbeat in your ears. 

Arlecchino stiffens immediately, before leaning back. You're grateful for the added distance, feeling the abrupt weight on your shoulders lifted. You dare glance over her expression. Once more, you're met with another emotion you've never seen before on her. A subtle frown with pursed lips alongside the smallest narrowing of her brows tells the disappointment in her dark abysses. The blackened arms fall away from your body, and for the strangest reason, you want her touch to linger. 

The bitterness in your mouth returns. 

“Get me out of here, Arlecchino,” is all you can say. The demon stares at you for several moments, before closing her eyes and hardening her face, the confounding expression gone in an instant. Suddenly, she becomes familiar again. 

“As you wish, my Lady.” 

You think you prefer getting beaten the shit out of over the gnawing sensation in your chest. Your heart swells achingly. You can’t fathom why.  

[nnnyxie]

INSPIRATION STRUCK

Nurse!Izu x underground fighter!reader

Idk how I got this idea tbh but like imagine the reader being a really good fighter but usually getting underestimated because of their cute appearance 🤭 so they beat their opponents ass every time

But ofc their opponents get hits in too so they go to get patched up by their fave boy~ reader is maybe a little more bold or flirty and Izu is just super scared and worried for them always scolding them for getting hurt

Something like that :) yeah you get it!! #𖢥 izuku anon

the way i’m eating this up like it’s thanksgiving dinner!!!!

I LOVE THIS!!!

(also just a psa there is quite a bit swearing, idk if that should be a warning for my stuff atp though… also the reader is referred to as a ‘bitch’ in case that makes anyone uncomfy!! i, personally, get disgusted when woman are referred to as ‘bitches’ in a derogatory way. but, that’s my opinion.)

you’re a major ass kicker, first and foremost.

since it’s all ‘underground’ there’s no recording or pictures allowed (they turn in electronics at the front)

soooo when people talk about this cute fighter that kicks names and takes ass (/ref), they don’t believe it!!

people think it’s a ‘myth’ and when they see you, the sweet fighter with a shit ton of injuries, they’re like ‘no fuckin way’ and just like,,, underestimate you.

which ofc makes you pissed (i’d be mad honestly) so, you go ham on their bitch asses!!!

and that ultimately results in your knuckles getting split and bloody. as well as the other person but who cares about them!!!

but, it’s the perfect excuse to see your favorite nurse with pretty green eyes and freckles all over his face!!

and while he loves seeing you as well, he hates that the only time he does is when you’re all bloody and bruised. izu wants to see when you’re… not that…

you’re usually in his office 4 times a week— which is very impressive since it used to be every day.

“you need to properly clean your wounds! and i told you to take a week break from fighting so they’d heal back up!” izuku sighs in frustration and worry. he’s, once again, wrapping your knuckles.

“i know i should but, it’s nice being able to come in ‘nd see your cute face when you get frustrated.” you flirt— trying to both ease the tension and show interest. he didn’t find it too amusing. though, he was slightly flustered at the compliment.

you were bold and flirty, yes. but that didn’t mean you were any good!!!

“i don’t exactly know why you chose fighting or anything but— it’s frustrating to see you damaging yourself like this.” you shake this statement off. saying something along the lines of ‘i just like it’ ‘i don’t mind the damages’

he’s always fussing over you and it’s truly endearing. he’s never like that with his other patients, besides bakugo. except— with bakugo he’s more aggressive. though, it’s only cause they’re lifelong friends.

anyways.

there’s this one time where you came in really bruised and bloody.

see— the underground ring doesn’t separate by gender or weight.

and they have fighters compete to rise to the top.

during this fight.

you went against bakugo— it was a rough one. the both of you were covered in sweat, spit, and blood.

the two of you had bruises everywhere. your stomach mainly— he landed a lot of kicks there.

“what the hell happened!?” izuku basically screamed when you walked in. “oh you know… the usual…” you laughed awkwardly, trying to hold up your ‘i’m totally not in agonizing pain’ facade.

“you usually don’t come in like this— what happened?” he sat you on the nursing bed, trying not to be too rough. “uhh well, my fight was against a pretty strong opponent. would’ve kicked his ass if that bitch didn’t pull that dirty move.” he sighs and shakes his head. “who was it?” “i don’t remember his real name. goes by dynamight or something. he was super aggressive though. had spiky blond hair. kept saying ‘i’m gonna kick your ass’ and ‘die, bastard’. just shit like that.” izuku groans and whispers ‘oh my fucking god’— knowing exactly who you’re talking about.

“that was quite the reaction… you know the guy or somethin’?” you laugh a little. “uh yeah. he’s kind of my best friend.” your eyes nearly pop out of your skull— “how—? you’re like— total opposites! you’re so pretty and sweet!! and he’s… none of that.” your face twisted a bit, recalling how bakugo snarled like a feral animal and was basically foaming at the mouth. izuku’s face flushed at your comment—

did you really think that about him? you really think he’s,,, pretty??

“well uhm… we’ve been friends since we were kids so… it’s something i’m used to i guess.” izuku whispered, he looked at the ground so you wouldn’t see how red he was. “that’s unfortunate for you.” you let out a laugh, and tried taking a peak at his face. you thought it was cute when he got all flustered and shy.

before you could tease him, you heard your name being called for a rematch against bakugo since he pulled the dirty move. “ahh looks like i gotta go. i’ll see you afterwards! hopefully not too beat up this time!” you smiled and ran out the room before he could stop you.

another fight went on. this time the ref paid closer attention— making sure no dirty cards were played.

bakugo was brutal. he didn’t go easy on any opponents and you respected him for that— or, at least, you used to respect him. knowing that he fights dirty made you rage.

you gave cuteness aggression a whole new meaning as you pummeled his ass. the fight was very close. neither of you wanted to back down.

izuku watched through one of the entrances. he always watches your fights— bakugo’s as well. and in this fight, he was rooting for you.

you and bakugo were slumped over but still held a fighting stance. bakugo said something to you— something izuku couldn’t hear or lip read. and whatever he said had made you angry— angrier than before.

you launched yourself at him and went against your code of honor. you pulled nasty tricks and the ref was quick to stop the fight.

it was clear you’d lost.

rematches happen only once and you fucked it up all because bakugo pissed you off.

you walk back into izuku’s office— both angry and sad. honestly, you were embarrassed by your actions. you hated how you went against your morals.

“oh my god— are you okay!?” izuku, once again, pulled you to the nursing bed. “yeah. ‘m fine.” you mumbled, which wasn’t a ‘you’ thing to do.

“what did bakugo say?” he grabbed his essentials as you sat down. “aw izu, do you watch my matches?” you cooed and smiled. which kind of hurt because of your busted lip. “uhm… well uh… yeah… i try to watch as many of them as i can…” he whispered, walking over to you with his supplies in hand.

you honestly would’ve teased him about this more but, you remembered how embarrassing your fight was. and you wanted to crawl into a hole.

“…so what did he say?” izuku asked again. he was persistent. which you loved about him but, right now you sort of disliked. “it’s just… stupid.” he frowned and began wrapping your hand. “it’s not stupid if it made you that upset. you can tell me. just because he’s my friend, doesn’t mean i’ll defend his actions.” he assured you, running a thumb over your sore knuckles. “he…”

you sighed, “he said, ‘stop being a dumb bitch and take the loss already’.”

you hated being called a bitch. you hated being looked down upon. it angered you. it brought out a fire inside you that couldn’t be extinguished without a more than decent beating.

izuku’s face was one of disgust— he knew bakugo was brash but, he was disgusted that he’d ever call a woman that. “i know it’s dumb to get upset about but— he called me a bitch! how was i not supposed to get angry!? he called me a dumb bitch! he degraded me and made me look fucking stupid.” you grew angry again. the embarrassment shied away. “you have every right to be upset about that. it’s disgusting that he said what he did. i didn’t realize he could be like that. i’m sorry.” “don’t apologize for his shitty actions. you did nothing wrong, izu.”

you sighed and let out a quiet yelp.

your anger and embarrassment had clouded your pain entirely. “i think i’m in lots of pain.”

after a long clean and wrap up, you were okay to leave for home.

“you should actually take time to rest. your physical state isn’t fit for fighting. honestly you should actually be on bed rest.” izuku helped you off the nursing table, making sure you didn’t land on the ground too hard. “but that means i can’t see you,” you spoke in a genuine voice. you weren’t teasing or flirting.

you were being dead serious. it was something izuku wasn’t used to. there were times where you had been serious, of course. but, it was never over something like this. it’d usually be directed towards matches and opponents. but, this time it was different.

“i— well… i mean, you can! uhm— hold on!” he rushed to rip a corner of paper off from a document and to grab a pen. he scribbled down his number messily. it was hardly legible. luckily, over the past two years of him helping you, you were able to decipher his writing.

he handed it to you, his face was red. not like the cutesy pinkish-red but, full on sweat-red.

“wow izu… when did you get so bold? i like it.”

i hope this is what you were looking forrrr

i had fun w/ this !!

[thequeendomhq]

“He favours his right knee.” “He’ll favour the other one next.”

Raven hair pulled tight behind her, Astrid's fingers threaded one piece over another as the long, Iskaran braid began to take shape at the crown of Gunnhild’s head.

At sixteen she didn’t respect many. Her father never treated her like a child, he ran the cisterns, the criminal underworld of Yggdrasildal, and Gunnhild had started out as a thief. Then she was a thug. 

Astrid didn’t have Gunnhild’s respect, at least not at first. Five years ago the woman had only seen twenty-three summers, a flavour of the month, but she’d been kept around where others fell away. Sharp, observant, and keen to make a name for herself, Gunnhild understood that some people had to work with what they’d been given.

“I envy you.” “You’re welcome to take my place.” “So young. So powerful. Your father raised you well.” “My father wanted a son.” Gunnhild smiled as Astrid finished and stood to run her hand against the smooth, shaved scope at the side of her head.  “Your father wants a great many things.”

“And he usually gets them.” Gunnhild eyed her reflection in the polished steel plastered to the wet brick of the cistern. She saw a girl who’d broken so many bones that they had no choice but to heal twice as strong. A woman who’d been standing a foot above those her own age since she was only ten years old. 

“I’ve never known you to walk away from a fight.” “Who’s walking away?” Gunnhild asked as she caught Astrid's gaze in the reflection of the makeshift mirror. 

“You know what I mean.” “But you know not what you ask.” It was sharp, as was Gunnhild’s nature. A forked tongue that was too crude for flyting, one that only stilled under her father’s harsh gaze. “Winning isn’t everything.”

Astrid was silent because she did not need to speak, Gunnhild could hear her thoughts echoing within her own well enough.

“Feel your braid, Hilda.”

Thrown to the floor of the ring, Gunnhild’s body protested as she tasted iron across the tarmac of her tongue. 

“Kill the bitch!” “Rip her fucking eyes out!”

Men always craved violence, but women were not so different. Gunnhild the brute had been to most of their doors at some point. Flanked by men twice her age and half her size sent by the girl’s father to collect a debt that was owed. It was a common saying that you could not get blood from a stone, but Gunnhild had a way about her. When the lives of children or spouses were threatened, it was a marvel what they could come up with.

“Get up!” “Gunnhild!” “Gunnhild get up!” “Fight!”

The crowd hated and favoured her, their wages split, but she’d spent a year earning her reputation here. Sigurd bet against her, Gunnhild the dutiful daughter, heir of rats.

When next Gunnhild looked the crack she felt along her jaw reverberated through her frame. She did not see stars, but an explosion of lights and sounds as the full weight of her body twisted upon itself before she once more hit the ground, hard.

A bleary-eyed stare lifted her gaze through the throng of grubby ankles and torn hems. Gunnhild could hear the abuse, the laughter that reverberated from the bellies of bloated, drunk men, and through the shadows she saw a pair of violet eyes watching her. A tail flicked through the shadows, back and forth.

Gunnhild stood and turned. She avoided the next strike with deft ease, instead of flesh the man that was more meat than a person brought his fist through the open air - broken only by the tail of her braid.

He was three decades her senior, harder, stronger, and carved from the same Iskaran stone as her. Gunnhild was faster, sharper, leaner, and far smarter. Before he’d recovered from the recoil of his stumble, she’d struck him four times over his rib cage, and under her knuckles came the deft feeling of cracking and popping. 

The underground fighter turned to swing at her but Gunnhild was light on her feet, incensed by adrenaline and blood like a berserker driven mad, she subverted his swing, and then another before she followed up with one that sent blood spewing from his nostrils. 

His nose flattened clean across his face, painting him like an overgrown elephant. Red-faced and enraged, Gunnhild heard the women within the crowd cheer her name and smirked as she moved in.

Bone cracked under the weight of her fist and the crowd roared around her.

Grown men pulled out their hair, but they didn’t earn her sympathy, those who did not cheer were the ones foolish enough to bet against her.

“Gunnhild!” “Gunnhild!” “Gunnhild!”

They thrust her fist into the air and Gunnhild’s smile was bright and broken. She took in the reverie, but it faltered when she met her father’s eyes. She’d cost him a fortune tonight.

Sigurd had been telling Gunnhild her worth for an age, but she never expected that her value would ever fall to disposable. Not when she’d worked so hard

“Victory again, Hilda.”

Her father’s man was equal part cruel and vicious, his henchmen just as merciless. They left her for dead, a notice to one of the local witchers that they’d found a witch in the cisterns.

Witcher. Kingsguard. First.

“Is this all that you can do?” Gunnhild paced in easy, intentional movements, a great axe hung carelessly at her side - its hilt held just a breath above the stone. “Is this all that you’re capable of?” For all the fear that the witchers imposed, it began with The First; she was not known for her kindness, kindness was easily misconstrued and when it was between witchers and the rest of the Iskarans there could be no room for error. 

She knew better than most how precarious their position was, and how quickly the winds could change. 

Gunnhild looked down at the wiry limbed child, watched as their veins pulsed and throbbed - poison protested its way toward their heart and she steeled herself once more for this moment. 

“Did you really come all this way, just to die?” Her axe lifted the thin-faced progeny and studied the clarity and the vitriol behind their eyes. “You must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer.”

She stood and watched as their body stilled, listened as their heart stopped, and then Gunnhild released a breath she did not know she was holding when it started again. 

Forty years a witcher and Gunnhild had outlasted those of her graduating class by a decade now. She could feel the poison ebb at her veins but by now this discomfort was a familiar burn. Some said Gunnhild was too stubborn to die, that her life could not be spent until she’d twisted a cruel finger into every affair across the Kingdom. Her Mad High King had appointed her two decades ago, and for twenty years she’d curated the generations of witchers to come.

From the top of Witcher’s Watch, she saw the mountain descend from the sky, and felt the heat as it scorched the land with arcana that only the oldest of stories whispered about.

Beneath her the watch was evacuating, they’d need time to take their children and their secrets into Valkyrie’s Reat, time that Gunnhild would have to buy for them.

Her braid was woven at the top of her head like a crown, but as she sheathed herself in antimagic it fell to sweep the ground behind her. Gunnhild’s face was lined and scarred; she foresaw her Kingdoms fate, but her duty was to her people - and the Iskarans who spat at her name. Iskaldrik, this broken, beautiful, stubborn land of ego and violence would fall to something far worse. She saw its face as it scorched the earth and left nothing but waste. Ichorous shadows like ink whipped about her, the natural weaves of the world seemed to protest as the air itself bent around her.

She stepped onto these threads and took flight, sustained by means of rejection. Against the shadow, a stark line of Silverlight took shape as a mithril bow formed, arrows of shadow and mithril enveloped its shaft before they pierced the sky. Antimagic erupted against the mountain and an invisible field rippled around it - shielded, she fired again and again.

A handprint burned over her heart, though Gunnhild paid it no mind. 

She envisioned a white flame and passed her fears to it as they floated through her consciousness.

She flew, and she fired. 

From the mountain bastion, a ray of prismatic flames fired toward Gunnhild, engulfing her. The shadow of her ascent was blotted out as the blast struck through and erupted against the ground below, but as quickly as it had blotted out the inky shadow of her antimagic, the ray erupted from its center and split the sky apart in a blinding array of light. Her bow fell toward the ground but a great-axe had landed in her palm instead, with a two-handed swing Gunnhild roared, heaving it at the Aetherian's mountain barrier before she cracked its great mithril blade against a field of seven colours and watched as the barrier shattered.

Its defense brought to ruin, Gunnhild remained smoldering, she prepared to charge, but from thin air itself, three suddenly appeared and descended upon her: a man with hair like the sun, a woman wrapped in gilded armor, and a third with gray hair the colour of churning sea foam.

The grayed Aetherian raised a hand, smiled, and then the sky erupted once more.

I shall not fear.

THE BARRIER

A cold fog swept over the people that morning, most were awake already, charged and ready at the barrier. They knew that once the Olympians began it would only be a matter of time before the Aetherians descended to pick their bones clean. 

At the Olympians’s order, elements bore down upon the barrier to strip it away layer by layer. Frost against fire, fire against frost, air against lightning. The prismatic force was a myriad of complexities, each field of the prism needed to be taken down simultaneously and yet one at a time as well. As quickly as they could tear through, it sealed itself shut again, as they were the Olympians would not manage it on their own. 

The witchers of Iskaldrik stepped forward, and the words of their First echoed in their mind: fear is the mind-killer. 

They sheathed themselves in antimagic, transforming as they rushed the barrier and carved into it with their mithril weapons. Cloaked in ichorous shadows, the force of the barrier closed down upon them. Flames washed over them, cold sunk into their nerves, acid ate away at their skin, and poison twisted away at their insides while lightning coursed through their bodies. Visions of horror flooded their minds in a blinding array as each of them gradually began to turn to stone. 

Their King was gone, their purpose was their nation, united, and with the aid of the Olympians, they cracked open the barrier as it rippled with a flood of arcana that cascaded across the surface in an array. If the Aetherians did not know where they were previously, then they would certainly be upon them shortly. The prismatic barrier sat on the shoulders of the witchers, the force of it tearing through them little by little. 

Iskarans rushed through, and the refugees passed under the mantle of the array while Aetherians poured down from the sky. A rain of prismatic flames washed across the Lostlands and one by one the witchers holding the field either collapsed or were pulled away. The barrier closed bit by bit until the last of it resealed into place and the pursuing Aetherians were trapped within, staring through the prismatic array at the Lysarans and Iskarans standing shoulder to shoulder. 

Despite their condition, none of the witchers died. Their petrification eroded away from the barrier, their sight returned, and with time their wounds were healed.

For the Iskarans, what more could be said?

What could they say after two long months on the road? Sequestered with the blight, starved, and raided by darkspawn. They'd watched their children turn into ghouls and felt the bracing hands of the witchers holding them back as their fiendish offspring were cut down and buried.

They'd been marched through wretched storms and unbearable cold and barely held their grip in the jarring tundra of the Wastelands and the treacherous peaks of Ymir's most Northern Spine. They'd come face to face with Aetherians, and battle dragons, and still trudged through a swampish hell only to face what should have been an insurmountable challenge.

They had lost their homes, their families, and their livelihoods.

For a moment there was nothing but shock and uncertainty, then a choice of glee seemed to erupt. A chorus of an old song passed over stubborn Iskaran songs as the Queen of Haven swept open the doors and bid the nation welcome among her wolves.

A pack that would grow with those who wished to join her, and a border nation that suddenly doubled in size overnight.

Too many Iskarans were taken the night of the Nornwatch attack, but six returned, each carrying scars both seen and unseen. Over the hearts of five, a handprint had appeared. It didn’t take long for word to spread, among the elves one of the elvhen said it first: Hrimthur’s Heart. From there another adage began to follow: The Daughters of Manetheren and The Heroes of the Wastelands. 

Their triumph over the abomination, Munin, spread like wildfire. Munin became the face of the darkspawn, a name that the Iskarans could attribute to all their woes concerning the blight. A skaldic young witch limped about Haven and spread the tale of their valor; inflating some aspects and deflating others. These brave stories spread from the Iskarans, through Haven, and across Lysara like a wildfire.

A Princess missing her eye stood now among the legionnaires, abandoning status in pursuit of a greater good. Aetherians had taken Iskaldrik, but she’d gazed upon Isengrim’s Embrace and knew that if left unchecked, the blight would see to it that there would be no Iskaldrik to return to.

A Steady blade had watched the princess cut off a dragon's head and took a knee. All her life she'd been Iskaran, she'd served a King, but she swore herself to the woman who she hoped would someday return to Iskaldrik as Queen.

A Shield for a Jarl was left touched by magic; the Iskaran woman knew nothing of witchcraft but now an unknown amount of years in wisdom sat idle across her mind. Lifetimes lived through the distorted lens of an altered fate, her task became siphoning the parts of her that were true and what was better left abandoned.

A Stationary woodcutter from the Iskaran Ironwood, signatures draped in a red riding cloak, had been kissed by the moon. An amulet of Aetherite was worth enough to purchase a fleet of ships ten times over, but what it gave her was so much more. Where it had come from and what it meant remained obscured by the fog of the blight, a fog she stepped toward. A wolf among the legionnaires draped in a cloak of red over armor of black.

A Path of shadows draped in raven feathers obscured her identity now. She drifted into the peripherals and faded into the background. Darkness had laid its hand upon her, and while she’d given little and told less, most never so much as learned her name.

A Gaze had turned toward the future and the horrors that she’d been made to endure. Orphaned urchin from the grimy streets, an Iskaran weapon meant to defend her nation. When the Legion of the Dead extended its hand, she stepped toward her Joining and set her eyes upon carving out the rot that settled around her Kingdom.

A Temperance of a sixth did not carry the mark, not a daughter of Manetheren, but a scientist. One who’d fallen through the veil but had turned away from uncovering more and chose safety instead. Wounded and battered, she would piece together the past in the hope of stitching what remained of their future. One who would fail far more than she’d succeed. 

A Sword missing an arm carrying the rank of Kingsguard bore the mark of Hrimthur's Heart, engraved by the storm giant, Orum - though to what end, he could not yet say. He rallied those under his charge in the absence of The First and at the unwavering side of the Iskaran Heir; a sword to lead the witchers to their noble, Iskaran purpose - to someday hunt and kill the magi of Aetheron.

A Hero known as The Errant Knight began to spread like wildfire. From the bowels of a plagued, abandoned outpost, a slayer of blademasters and defectors from the Legion of the Dead had been cut down. He carried one of her swords, one a heron-marked blade wielded by a Crusader of the Light, his story would spread and in so would inspire others to walk the warrior’s path - not knowing the dark secret he harbored. 

A Devout legionnaire wielding the weight of the bloodied arts of an Olympian or Ceres pulled countless from the brink of death. For months she’d worked to the bone, setting limbs and minds alike. Toiling day and night among Iskarans who’d have sooner spat at a witch than accepted her aid. What she knew better than most was what she’d known from her formative years: there was only one battle that mattered, the battle between good and evil. Life and death.

An Heir who now carried the ring of his father, wielding with it a power that as of yet ran unchecked. A prince who would someday be King, a man who carried a dark secret and an even darker burden - because now his people were looking toward him for hope. He was the face that they would pin their desire to return to the nation that was taken from them, and it would be his name they would remember should he fail. 

An Oathsworn man who’d never thought to hold the mantle of leadership, but with every legionnaire above him cut down, there were few other choices. Should they make it through the barrier, then he’d stand as the Lysaran Field Officer, and march the new burgeoning Legionnaires to reclaim and rebuild Caer Glas Keep of the Silverlands. 

A Runner had finally reached his destination, a woodcutter from the Iskaran South, a boy and his dog who'd lost everything along the way to find the family he'd known but never met. A home within a home, a life within a life, his purpose still yet undefined but one who'd carved out runes and seen a Storm Giant with his own eyes, living to tell the tale.

A Hand that was the voice of The High King watched as the man he’d sworn himself to, the man he’d betrayed, and the man he’d watched return from the brink of death, slip away. A maddening uncertainty addled the warrior famed as the Raven Feeder, once Orhan’s voice when he stood in the hall of Arethusa Mordecai, it was he who spoke on behalf of the Iskaran people. 

One by one the people of Iskaldrik were vetted, the crimes in their nation were of no consequence to the Lysarans, and the supernaturals hidden among them were thoroughly searched for any connection to Aetheron, or the Blight. Within Haven, Queen Aurea gave the Iskarans everything they needed: food, lodging, and healing when necessary with the understanding that they remained by her good graces and they could continue to do so so long as her law was respected.

Overall, those who were not native to Lysara were sequestered within the lupine city for a month's time. One by one the Agents combed through every detail and made note of anyone of interest: changelings, vuldaks, cambions, devils, thieves, potential darkfriends and so much more. As was their nature, they revealed this only to their Sitters, and to those who were deemed necessary.

The prismatic field remained, no one could enter or exit, but it remained abundantly clear that

ooc info:

This concludes Troupe 1: Journey to our Queendom. Thank you all so much for coming along on this, it has meant the world to me.

The Iskarans are in Haven, in the game it'll be about a month, but IC you're welcome to have them interacting and playing outside of the city.

The Agents of Minerva uncovered the secrets of most of the Iskaran refugees, they know their history - bloody and all. These aren't witches you can easily hide things from.

EVERYONE receives DM Inspiration on their next quest for either surviving and thriving in all the horror I put them through, their campaign actions, or their in-character actions. Additionally, each of these characters in the troupe is awarded 2,000 gp to spend on whatever they wish ( Call it a gift from a charitable wing of the Vanguard of the Light ).

A reminder that the wrap-up posts are due next Friday!

Congratulations on completing the tutorial, The Game has officially begun :)

[magical-awesome-kid]

When we were born, it was instinct. My mother had shown me, her precious toddler, the new baby, and I had, well, cried. It wasn’t until years later that I figured out why all of my adoration for having a sibling had turned to sadness and contempt.

Then again, I did my best. I did love him, but there was always that, as my father had joked, “Cain Instinct” between us two. One moment we’d be playing nicely together, the next I’d be ripping off his Barbie’s head while he threw paint on my favorite shirt. A fight breaking out over, of all things, which color was the best.

It was petty. Far pettier than anything we’d fought over in previous lives. Wars had broken out, battles to the death. In times past, when magic still existed openly in the world, we’d have gone to the ends of the earths to end one another.

Now? We were two kids, siblings, growing up alongside one another in 21st century Suburban America. Our parents the same middle class, white collar workers who had somehow pushed out two children so similar and yet so different.

And yet… even as we bickered and fought, he was still my brother, and that something had put a new spin on this lifetimes-long grudge.

He could be mean and cruel, but, being behind the scene as I was, I could clearly see why he performed his actions. He stood up to bullies, much as I did myself, but, in the past, it had always seemed that he only did so out of malice.

“That guy reminded me of Bolton.” He swore as he picked at his bandaged knuckles. They’d been called to the principal’s office after her brother had gotten into a fight, and I’d been summoned as I’d gotten involved in pulling the idiots apart at the end (not for the brother’s sake, I claim).

“Bolton?” I repeated back. “That fellow from… gosh, that was three deaths ago.” I muttered, trying to remember all the details. “That king. You killed him and seized his kingdom.” The memories trickled back in. A branch family had then contacted her - then a he - to defeat her enemy once more.

“Yeah, bastard. Stole from his own people and forced slavery on those who couldn’t afford his stupid tariffs. Had an underground ring for Fae Fights and Trades.” The boy’s voice dropped with so much malice, far too much for a child of ten. “It was the first thing I got rid of.”

I jumped, balking at such a thing. “Seriously? But, you drove so many people from their homes!”

“Just the ones who were involved.” He picked his bandages again. “You ever wonder why I spared so many children?”

I blinked, thinking back to that debacle. It had sparked another war between the two. “I didn’t know.”

He looked back at me. “Would it have changed anything?”

“Yeah.” I looked back. “I would have killed that guy first.”

Our parents came out, and the conversation was dropped.

It would be small conversations like this through the years, as memories of past lives filtered in with memories of this new life. It was an age of peace compared to where that had been for centuries, and the most they fought was with fists. Still, their small bodies retained power of old, and it took a lot more - as per the usual - to kill one another.

“Why in the hell would you kick him?!?” My brother ranted as he dragged me out of the restaurant. It had just been cruel fate that our two groups had converged upon there.

“He was being a racist bitch!” I swore back, trying to get out of his hold. We were now teenagers, and he was swiftly catching up to me in pure bulk. “Let me go finish his ass! I killed that bastard demon king for the same thing!”

“What?” His arms fell slack. “The demon king was a fair man! YOU were racist!”

“Uh, wrong!” I spun on him. “The only reason I even worked with the stupid church was to A) usurp that bastard of a pope, and B) because he was systematically killing the demi-demon clans.” I paused. “Wait, you didn’t know?”

“No!” He threw up his arms. “My mother was half-demon, and she was killed by the church! It’s why I hated them so much!”

“And, again, see point A.” I replied. We stared at one another. “So… can I go back?”

“Depends.” My enemy, my brother, responded. “What did he do?”

It turned out that he was more sly than my, granted, knee-jerk response. Once he learned that the bastard in his group had pulled on my girl’s head wrap after we had TRIED to ignore his racist, homophobic, and sexist remarks, well, he got the tongue lashing of his life. Kid had to transfer schools after as no one wanted to touch that bag of shit. I had, of course, anonymously spread to the guy’s new school his lack of manners, so he had to deal with that as well.

Then, once he was out of our immediate area, we went back to the normal. Our parents had thought us grown out of the petty fights, but we never did. Granted, getting into two different colleges known to have sports and academic rivalries didn’t help.

(Compared to fights past, though, it was much more civil, and, really, we had little to truly fight over after so many years. Collegiate squabbles was hardly worth wars, and, when we forgot about such things, we were quite close.)

(And, maybe, when my brother had grown scared of coming out to our parents as gay, I’d shown up with a girlfriend just to break the ice.)

(And, when, a boyfriend of mine had tried to isolate and abuse me, he’d show up with another fight just so that, when I’d realized how toxic this relationship had become, I’d know that I’d fought harder to defeat demon lords and holy knights - what was one idiot Chad?)

“I will loathe you until our deaths.” I promised as I straightened his tie. “And this color is horrendous. What does Nathan even see in you?”

“I am a GEM, you whore!” He slapped my hands away. “And why are you even back here?”

“I am your greatest enemy, and, more importantly, your sister. You looked two seconds from pulling a Triton and running.”

“It was a tactical retreat, and you know it!” He threw back. He then followed with a murmur of “thanks.”

I just smiled. “No problem, little brother.” After a moment, I offered open arms. “Would you like a hug? I can try to squeeze you until the pressure pops.”

“Uhg. Fine, one awkward sibling hug.” He agreed, begrudgingly, before he entered my embrace.

It wasn’t really awkward, as it had been the first few times our parents had made us “hug it out.” It had grown natural over the years as we two enemies learned that maybe, just maybe, there was more to the other person than what we had known for centuries.

We would always be each other’s worst enemies - more because if anyone else tried to steal said title, they’d be met on two fronts - but we were also siblings who loved one another. Keeping your friends close and enemies closer, and all of that.

“The color is still ugly.”

“Oh, fuck off!”

Much like there are reincarnated lovers, there are reincarnated enemies. This pair, however, has a problem this time around. They reincarnate as siblings this time.

[astrohnova]

Cuando el Abismo Te Devuelve la Mirada🌌⚡

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒

This is my entry for @my-divine-death motel 666 challenge

ROOM: the delusional (stalker, kidnapper, murderer).

ROOM NUMBERS: #222 (a polyamorous relationship)

ROOMMATES: steve rogers + natasha romanoff (cap’s quartet)

I’m new at writting so if I should add more tags let me know. Also, english is not my first language so it might be a little weirdly worded so just let me know and i'll change whatever's wrong. I’m sorry

If you reblog and leave me some feedback I'll kiss your mouth. With tongue.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 steve rogers x latina!fem!reader x natasha romanoff

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 5k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 You are part of an underground group of heroes of New York City under the codename Cheetah. When this group catches the attention of the Avengers, you are demanded to join them in their building. Your sweet little self also steals the attention of two special someones.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 +18 ONLY. IF YOU’RE A MINOR, i’ll kick your ass and also block u. this is kinda dark!avenger AU, mentions of family abuse, torture, electro-shock use, starvaiton, mutants, DUB-CON/ NON-CON, age gap (reader is of age), smut (threesome, f/m/f, coercing, kissing, daddy kink, anal, cum play, forced, choking, dildo use, creampie), drug use (to dope reader), stalking, meltdown. WHEN IN DOUBT, DON'T READ. THAT'S IT.

You can’t stay with your eyes open for more than five minutes. You’re barely holding your head on your knuckles, your elbow on the table and the professor a few steps away from you. You’re falling asleep in this lecture. Again. Which is not your fault really, this dude is really boring. And his voice just kinda lures you to sleep. It’s the stunner bell that wakes you in a second, bewildered. Looking around to see if somebody noticed, to then pretend that nothing happened while picking up your stuff from the desk.

With that last class covered, you’re ready to go home. For a few minutes at least, until you go out again. But not like you. Like Cheetah.

Cheetah was a codename, in this superhero business you can’t really use your real identity. Not in the underground business anyway, and especially not if you have powers. The illegal activities are part of it, but when people in your everyday life know that you’re that disgusting mutant… things get rough. Families break. Torture and pain blossom. You’ve seen it happen.

Home is the apartment that you share with your team, your fellow mutants. Most of them have been through so much, most of us don’t have any family except this team. And after all the heartbreak and the rejection, after all the pain and the hate, the family we learn to build is the warmest hug, the safest refuge, the tastiest meals. The best place to always come back to.

When you reached your house, Jay was cooking dinner, while Danny and Nova played video games. You kissed Jay in the cheek after greeting the other two, and closed the door to privately talk.

“I have bad news…” You started, toeing the line between sad and angry. Jay acknowledged you and pushed you to continue. “Somebody knows about us. I’ve been sensing some movements on the net.”

“About us?” The worry showed all over his face and spread through his voice.

“About Danny first. But we’re not so safe either…” Jay sighed, and you just lowered your eyes. Danny was the only anchor we had on the net. He still had some attachment with his family. The boy had a golden heart and a forgiving mind, which led him to get hurt over and over again. That’s why, when all of us had sent our families flying out the window the moment we discovered the true meaning of family, between us mutants, he hadn’t. We cut all ties, using Jay’s powers of mind manipulation to make our families forget us. And your powers to erase your technological tracks, your digital existence. Even make your families forget the huge sons of bitches that they are and all the abuse that they got their own kids through. After all the torture you had to endure because of them, you would of liked to see them suffer a little bit. But safety comes before vengeance. Especially when you had people to look after. Even though the last time you saw them they sent you to a mental hospital, leaving you weak from all the electro-shock, the starvation, Nova having to blast part of the building to get you out, alongside Danny and Jay. You were willing to sacrifice your life for them.

But Danny had another connection to his family, they loved him… Not so much his condition, much less that he doesn’t see it like a disease, that he doesn’t believe he had to be cured. But he’s the only one who still holds a connection to his family, still attached to the net for them. Dangerous, but it worked fine, with the fake names and the elaborate barriers that you managed to put up. Until now.

Your eyeballs start getting covered by a white cloud, your pupils and iris disappearing behind it, so Jay approaches you and grabs your arms, concerned and caring. Your head diving into the waves of the network ocean, swimming into piles of data. A dreamlike experience that allows you in just seconds to cross through gigabytes of information. And allows you to find out that you’re doomed. “We’re not safe anymore”. You shiver when you come out of it, and with one final shared concerned look, you both get out into the living room to look for your family.

When you get there, Danny and Nova are still playing video games, and while everything seems normal, there’s this tingling under your skin and you feel a spider-like bite in the crook of your neck. Buzzing, uncomfortable.

“Gimme your phones.” No questions asked, they all give you their cellphones. They stop playing and wait for your directions. And you break the cellphones. The tingling goes down a little bit, but you can feel the unsteady eyes of the net piercing your skin. Someone’s watching you. Spying your family. You turn the TV off, and because you still feel the eyes you grab the device and drop it to the floor, harshly disconnecting it and breaking the screen. Dismantling the back part to cut key cables that connect to the net. And the buzzing stopped.

“So… you gonna pay for a new TV right?”

🌌⚡

After you explained to the family the breach on Danny’s info and that someone was watching you through every device in the house that interacted with the net, explaining the severity of the stalking, your family was highly strung. The last time you didn’t follow your powers you had to watch everything you all had built blow out into pieces. And it had taken a long time to come back from that one. You weren’t gonna let that happen again. And neither were they.

So it was settled: you were starting over. It was too dangerous to stay, despite what you all had here. You started packing your bags, booking flights through the net to get the hell out of here. Putting firewalls and barriers so that finding you will be labyrinthic. Erasing the fake information you gave your university, as well as Jay’s, Nova’s and Danny’s info from their jobs, their gameplay accounts, the discord ones… Everything gone, which brought a huge stress on your body.

“Jay I’m… Not feeling well” You said approaching Jay, by the end your knees giving in and collapsing onto Jay. Nova quickly helped to hold you, hugging you tightly and directing you to the couch so you can rest.

Everybody was giving it their all. Bur Danny…

“You’re not feeling so good, Cheetah. Maybe... maybe we should wait it out a little bit. It’ll be good! We need to get some air first, think this through…” He babbled, so nervous and energetic.

“Stop Danny…” You muttered, so exhausted… You just wanna sleep for a little.

“I’m serious! Let 's stay!” When his hair starts turning red and his hand gets tenser, with nails growing… You know his emotions are getting a hold of him. That's never good, but for a mutant is way worse.

“Are you dumb? Don’t you understand how dangerous that would be?” Nova barked at him.

“Remember the last time we listened to you and not her?” Jay hissed. “We’re not doing that shit again.” Danny’s breathing was fast and heavy, he wasn’t convinced at all.

“And get a hold of your fucking self.” Nova grunted, still holding you in her arms. She had lived the exhaustiveness of using your powers. Meanwhile Danny got back to his true form without so much as a blink.

Jay brought you a glass with water, and you stretched your arm to Danny, to have him close. ”Danny. Please, listen to us. Listen to me. Please believe me, I need you to get on board with this. Te necesito. We won’t leave you behind and we won’t go ahead without you. We stick together, somos familia” You pleaded to him. And that got him more on board. Part of himself remembering last time.

🌌⚡

There’s something going on. Your fucking nerves shuddering, feeling eyes watching every step you take. Something 's wrong. You look quiet on the outside, peaceful, bored. But on the inside you’re about to collapse. You arrived at the airport, with the fake passports and the tickets you managed to get. The team decided to split, boarding on their own. You can’t even see them, feeling only Jay in your head trying to calm you down. You were already trying to do that yourself, knowing that airports have camaras fucking everywhere, so of course they were going to be watching you. And everyone’s using their cell phones, computers, tablets. Yeah, eyes were everywhere. Maybe you’re way up in your head. You stopped the stalking, you discovered it on time… right? Yes. So there’s nothing to worry about. If you look up this book that you’re pretending to read you can see Jay. Looking out the window to the planes in the field, but with his mind on you. And if you pretended to stretch, and twisted your head back you can see Nova talking to a lonely old lady. Everythings normal. Danny is probably in the bathroom, or buying something. He’ll be back soon.

“Hey, what are you reading?” Asked the man beside you, short brown hair. Handsome, with a jean jacket and gloves, looking really bored.

“I… Not reading actually, can’t focus” You sighed, closing the book and getting more comfortable in your seat, still looking at him.

“Fear of flying?”

“Something like that...”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about nothing. These things now are really developed, they were dangerous back in the day but now? Nah”

“Back in the day? Talking like an old sir when you’re not older than me” You noted, tilting your head to the side curiously. He chuckled, a little bit nervous.

“It’s just a saying” He sputtered, and you hummed in agreement, finishing the conversation. When you look back frontwards. And Jay wasn’t there. You frowned, starting to get concerned again but trying not to express it.

“You’re looking for your friend?” Wondered the guy next to you. And you didn’t even flinch.

You turned to him confused, and voiced “What? I didn’t come with any friends. You’re as far from a friend as I encountered here.” You appealed, to get him to buy your lie so you can get the hell away from here.

“Really? So You don’t know any Jay?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. But I have to go to the bathroom, so excuse me” You were about to combust. Who the hell is this dude? And just how in the fuck does he know? You… You didn’t have any trace left behind. Everything was perfect. Just how...?

“No, we’re not going to the bathroom. Where 's Nova?” Fucking nowhere. You don’t find her when you look back.

“How do you know about Nova? Who the fuck are you?”

“Calm down. S’ not good to get stressed due to your… condition” You weren’t stressed out. You were fucking angry, you wanted your family and this hijo de puta wasn’t gonna take them from you. But you can feel an electric fire coercing through your body, and your jaw started to hurt from how hard you were biting.

“They are fine. If you come with me you’ll see”

“I’m not going with the same dickass that took them.” You roared, grabbing his arm and sending an electric current through your touch.

He groaned and pleaded again “Calm down, Cheetah. Look around”. The screen noticing the flight schedules was flickering, and you could see the receptionist struggling with her computer. But you were fucking out of it.

“I… I can’t. Not ‘til I see them” Your eyes started getting cloudy, your mind submitting to the net. Getting more weight in the man’s arms, weakening.

“Then… I’m sorry” You felt the prick before you saw the needle in his hand. Fuck.

🌌⚡

“I saw her first, I was the one who helped Stark find her.”

“Nat, it was your fault that she left last time.”

“Fuck off.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

They were staring at you sleeping. You were so calm, after your meltdown in the airport earlier that day. Your friends were waiting for you, Nova grabbing your hand, Jay in Danny’s embrace. They didn’t think you would be so close to them again, but you are. And Nat and Steve couldn’t be happier.

“So beautiful. So peaceful. Can’t wait to have her” Nat bites her nail softly, rubbing her thighs together.

“I’m gonna have her first Nat” Steve grabs Nat’s face, turning it to her, skeezing her cheeks. “And only if you behave you’ll have your turn.” Nat whimpers at that strong tone, struggling to nod while looking at Steve completely surrendered, dumbed down. “Good girl.” With a peck on the lips, Steve lets her go.

“We can’t lose her again”

🌌⚡️

“And why do they call you Cheetah? Fancy animal print?” Tony’s annoying and not at all funny’s ass is in your room the moment you wake up.

“Nice one” You snickered. “If you piss me off, maybe you’ll find out”

“Oh I think I already did… You were the one who discovered me right? Not even 20 seconds in your grid and you shut me off. That’s amazing, much faster than last time. And you’ve grown, kid.” You just looked at him. Explaining yourself isn’t gonna do anything, he already knows everything about you. You just have to use all his tech against him, find a way out of this awful place. You can’t believe you’re fucking here again.

“You.. Know each other already?” Jay asked. And you just sighed and looked away.

“You’re bickering like family…” Danny chipped in.

“It’s a long story.” You blurted. Between the drugs, using your powers carelessly and knowing what was waiting for you in this place, you were on the verge of tears. And even though you loved your family, this is something you never disclosed to them. Couldn’t ruin the idea of Avengers that they had with the real malice that surrounded the most famous superheroes.

“And when did you learn to cover your tracks like that? ‘Cause you can have the powers, but--”

“That’s enough. She’s still worned out and needs to rest. You already have us here anyway, so you have all the time in the world to ask your stupid questions.” Nova commanded.

“She does need to rest, so you’re leaving. But I’m not”

“It’s fine, guys.” You conceded when they focused their eyes on you, completely worried. You felt Jay in your mind, caring and loving, and you reassured him quietly. You had to talk to Stark eventually. And so they left.

“Mhm… I get that I cause oniric things to people, but if you so desperately wanted me back you could of asked nicely”

“I tried, but you wouldn’t let me, blocking me at every road. You upsetted the captain, and the spy almost killed me.”

“Almost? That’s a shame” You lazely fired, snuggling into the bed and closing your eyes. You were too tired for this bullshit conversation, and so angry that you were in their arms again. The mere thought of what they would do to you…

“Listen. I have some pills for you.”

You opened one eye, and shot a sharp reply. “I won’t take anything you give me.”

“That 's a shame.” Tony said, walking toward you. “‘Cause this building is full of electrical devices. And if you don’t take them, you’re gonna live with one hell of a headache.”

“Oh, so the tortures and investigations you and your idiotic team performed worker for something? I’m glad, at least all that pain wasn’t for nothing”

“The team cares about you, and Banner understands just how much you suffer.” He was so close to you, with those fake ass glossy eyes. They didn’t have feelings, they didn’t care.

“Yeah? Couldn’t tell by all the torture.” Tony drops the hand that was about to caress your cheek and with one final look, he leaves. Leaving you all alone, drifting off to sleep.

🌌⚡

“Thanks for your help, Buck.” Steve said, putting a hand on his shoulder and patting it lightly. He met you at the airport, the only member of the Avenger’s team that you hadn’t known ‘till then, the perfect one to approach you and contain you if needed. And it was needed.

“Well, now I'm feeling a little underappreciated. I found her digital footprint, which led us to her.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Stark.”

“Is she… going to embrace this life with us?” Banner nervously asked, playing with his hands and not lifting his eyes.

“I just want her to be safe, but maybe she shouldn’t be here. If I were to take her to Asgard...” Thor proposed, but nobody agreed with him.

“She is not leaving.” Nat stabbed a knife into the table, pissed. She wasn’t letting you go.

“She will accept her fate. She doesn’t have another choice.”

🌌⚡

Your head was pounding, the electronic spasms swirling through your head. Cuddled up in the hospital bed, grabbing your head with your hands. Stark was right, and you were just about to give in and drink those damn pills. But would it be a mistake to trust them? After so much pain last time… Especially in Stark’s bloodied hands.

You were winning, your mind trying to concentrate on something else when you felt a hand on your leg. And you quickly incorporated on the bed, crawling away from the person that touched you. Only to burn with anger when you realize who it was: Steve Rogers.

“Hello darling.” You were dreading this encounter, but it was doomed to happen. You were in his house.

“Hello, golden fucker.” He laughed with no cheerfulness at all, his eyes darkening.

“I’ll let that slide. I know that you have to get used to being here again. And I also know that you’re in pain.”

“You’ve been watching me?”

“Of course, kitten.” He tilted his head, like he didn’t understand just how creepy that shit was. But of course he would be watching you, he wouldn’t let you out of his sight again.

“Why haven’t you taken the pills? They’ll help you.”

“Are you really asking me that?” He signed, uncrossing his arms and putting them on his hips, never taking his eyes off of you and already noting that you would be harder to break than he initially thought. All of them wanted you, why didn’t you want them? They had the entire world to give to you.

You couldn’t hold his staring for much longer, so looking down you swore: “I don’t wanna drink the fruits of my suffering. And I don’t wanna be here with you, fucking crazy pants.”

He approached you fiercely, clenching his jaw and grabbing yours in his hand. “I forgave the first one, but no more. You’ll take the damn pills or I’ll push them down your throat.” You whimpered, trying to turn your head but incapable due to his hard grip. You nodded slowly, staring at him disgusted. But he wouldn’t allow that, and you wished you knew better.

He grabbed your hair, pulling your head back and grunting while you trembled. His face’s watching you closely from above.

“Stop being so difficult. You have nowhere to go, and the faster you submit, the better. Open your mouth.” You did, and he spitted on it. Making you swallow.

He let you go and handed you two pills and a cup with water, closely watching you drink it.

“That wasn't that hard, right? My good girl.” He caressed your face and you give in to his touch, the pills making effect fast but numbing your head, along with the praise sending you to another planet.

“Baby, daddy really needs to empty his balls in you, will you let me?” He asked, sliding his thumb in your mouth, you sucking and nodding eagerly. “Of course you’ll let me, cause you're my little whore, right?” Your eyes went to the back of your head, mewling.

“Take your clothes off and lay down, ass up.” You did just as he demanded, his eyes never leaving you. When you were done he just put his crotch zipper down and freed his cock, still in his stealth suit. He signed before vowing: “After all the trouble you’ve made me go through, I’ll be rough on you. So you’ll learn. You need it, kitten.” He approached you slowly, ready to hunt his prey. Ready to make yo fucking take it.

He spit in your pussy, spreading it with the tip of his cock and pounded into you pushing you forward and making you gasp and moan in pain. He put his hands on your head, pushing you into the mattress violently, as he started moving his hips roughly, in and out of you. Your ass bouncing against his pelvis, your mouth wide open as you started crying out.

“God, I miss this fucking pussy.” One of his hands left your head to slap your ass angrylly. Fucking you like he hated you. He did hate you, you left him, you abandoned him. Left him without this sweet pussy that was gripping him thigh. Leaving him without this incredible ass of yours that always drove him mad.

“I’m never leaving you again, you hear me? You’re fucking mine.” He slipped his thumb in your asshole, and you moaned like a whore, not expecting you. “You really missed this too, mmm, baby? You’re enjoying this more than me. Just wait ‘till I destroy your ass.” You were out of yourself, completely surrendered, gripping the sheets, taking the harsh spanking. The thumb in your ass driving you nuts, opening you up.

And the way he pounded onto you, you could feel him so deep inside you, his dick sliding against you savagely. His grountings, his hair hitting his face, sweating his heart out while you just fucking taked his merciless trusts. Your screams were driving him mad, he wanted to make you suffer. He knew that’s how you enjoyed it, the noises of his hips hitting your ass, the grunts he was letting out.

“Da-- Daddy! It’s to much!”

“Is it? Fucking take it.” With that, he penetrated you harder, if that was even possible. Then grabbed you by the hair to push him against his chest, standing on your knees. Never stopping for one second.

“This is what you deserve, for running away from me. You’re not running anymore. You’re fucking mine.” And the coil in your belly snapped, your legs trembling and your head tilting back in his shoulder, you came screaming, your entire body giving in, collapsing against Steve. You couldn’t even open your eyes, and Steve pushed you back into the bed and came out of you to admire your glistering pussy.

“Look at this mess, baby girl. You’re really loving this, aren’t you? Now I am gonna enjoy myself.” He entered you again, and you screamed with your eyes tightly shut. Your belly spasming from the overstimulation.

“N-no more, please daddy. I-I can’t take it.”

“That’s too bad, ‘cause this isn’t for your pleasure. Today you’re only here to please me, to receive my cum, to have your holes ripped. You’re getting fucked. Hard. And you’re gonna take me while you fucking scream” He put his feet on the mattress to pound you brutally. And you just stayed there, taking it. Your ass burning hot, aching from his spanking. Until he came out of you, whimpering from the emptiness, and then gasping when he turned you around and unceremoniously putting his dick in your mouth for you to drink every last drop of his cum.

“That’s right, there you go, whore.” He said, while you gagged and his dick hitted the back of your throat. Before pulling away, he plowed into you even deeper, even harder. To then pull out and leaving you coughing, putting his cock back into his pants and fixing himself.

“Just wait ‘till Nat has you babygirl, together we’re gonna break you.” And with that, he leaves.

🌌⚡

“Hi, little girl. Heard Stevie tired you out.” You moaned and stirred awake, in another bed, in another bedroom. With Natasha Romanoff by your side, caressing your hair. You looked at her mesmerized, with an underlying fear of her anger. If Steve received you like that then… What about your loving assassin?

“Hi mommy… He did. Left my pussy aching.” She put her hand around your neck, squeezing and making you more awake.

“Well deserved, for being a dumb little girl that though she could fend for herself. You had to learn.” You nodded.

“And now baby, mommy’s gonna make you pay too. Gonna fuck you to an inch of your life, and Stevie here is gonna help me.”

“We wanted to be good, loving partners. But you wouldn’t let us.” Steve said, standing up from a chair in the corner. “So we have to teach you several lessons, you have to learn to want us. To love us.”

“If you don’t play along, become our little kitten, serve us, then your family’s gonna suffer. And even if you say no and they suffer, you’ll still be used. Just like you deserve, kitten.” You nodded, and Natasha just laughed sitting in your face, her ass in your face, already naked.

“That wasn’t a question, whore. So suck.” You eagerly start invading her folds, exploring her entrance and then latching onto her clit. “That’s it baby, you remember how it’s done.”

Steve pushed his aching cock into you, fucking you while kissing Natasha in a nasty kiss that left their chins globbeering from spit, groaping her tits, her ass boucing in your face. Your body under them both, your breathing being cut by Natasha’s ass checks. The struggle to breath driving you closer to the hill, while Steve’s huge dick stretch you out, your belly trembling, you were getting so close, you started sucking Natasha faster, hearing her moaning and rubbing against your face, one of her hands going onto your tits and pulling your nipples. When you put your thumb on Natasha’s ass and your tongue inside her, she came, and you along with her. And just then Steve pulled out of you and impaled your asshole fast, making you scream and grip Natasha’s ass hard, with your nails burying on her ass. Tears were starting to form on your eyes from Steve’s huge cock in your pure ass.

“What is it baby? You were enjoying Steve in your pussy but the moment he fucks your ass you suddenly don’t like it? Fuck her harder, Stevie.” Her words and Steve starting to do exactly what she said, plus the overstimulation of your last orgasm made you cum again, while Natasha started humping your tits. Your delirious screams, Natasha’s moans and Steve’s groanings fill the room. He filled your ass and kept fucking you. Natasha got down off you to search for something in the closet, meanwhile Steve got down to whisper in your ear, admiring your fucked up face.

“Fuck baby, you’re my little cumslut right? Just out of it. Filled with my cum. But your mouth is empty baby, just like your head. But don’t worry, Nat can fill your mouth. And your little mind can just think of us.” His words and his hand starting to choke you made you cum again. Your body was made for them, for you to be used and filled. Steve sat back on his knees, pulling out of you, leaving your pussy shivering and manhandling you on your fours, with Natasha sitting in front of you with a huge dildo strap-on for you to choke on.

You grabbed the base and shoved it on your mouth, Natasha grabbing your face and spitting on it. Your face was stained with tears, Natasha’s fluids and now her spit too. Until Steve pulled out and filled your face with his cum. You felt empty for a second until his dick entered your cunt, pushing you forward to choke on Natasha’s dildo, grabbing your hands so you can’t help yourself with them to grope her tits.

And then you felt a cold something entering your ass, stretching it open again and making you scream and gag on the plastic dick. Steve was pushing another dildo onto you, filling you completely. And pushing you off your pleasure cliff when it started to vibrate. And you were gone. They were running a train over you to keep you on your knees for the rest of your relationship.

“That 's it, kitten. Making us so happy.” You were drifting away, closing your eyes and moving due to the force of their thrusts. You passed out, but that means nothing to them, they just kept using you.

Sprayed out on your belly in the bed, Steve slides his cock inside of your slobbering, glistering pussy. You’re in and out of consciousness when you feel him starting rocking inside you, pulling your hair. Making you pant and whine like the stupid, greedy little slut you are.

“Go on, little girl. Get lost in the abyss. Pretend you’re not enjoying yourself. Disconnect, find your space. But when the abyss looks back at you, you’ll realize just how much you liked it.”

“And if you don’t realize, don’t worry… Your body already knows.” You’re drooling on the mattress, whimpering and spasming from the pleasure, your legs trembling. You’ve come so many times you feel your mind slowly detaching from your body. You can’t take it anymore, but they are not done with you yet. So you just take it. Not like you can do something else.

When they are finally done they leave you with a dildo in your ass and another one in your pussy, Steve’s cum, Natasha’s fluids all over your body, cut, ass and mouth. And the dildos filling you up, keeping Steve’s cum inside of you.

“And when you’re ready, we’ll share you with the rest of the group. ‘Cause good little girls have to pleasure mommy and daddy’s friends”

[aki-mochi]

Levi x Reader: New Life

WARNING: contains language and mentions of prostitution.

This takes place in the Underground.

Being a teenager wasn't easy, especially if they lived in the Underground City where you had to fight to survive. Literally. Levi huffed as he wiped the blood off his cheek from beating another man to tried to talk shit about his late mom. As he turned down into an alleyway, a few men were seen hovering around something as they talked as he got closer, he could hear their conversation and decided to hide behind a barrel to eavesdrop.

"Think we should sell this little girl in the black market to pay for our next meal?"

"Nah, we should teach her a lesson for stealing from us" he partner said as his knuckles were cracked in the process, ready to beat the shit out of the girl they had cornered.

"You pigs didn't need all that food since you're already fat enough!" the girl yelled as she tried to stay brave.

"You little bitch!" the man yelled as he raised his fist as it made contact to her cheek.

The girl fell to the ground due to the force as she held her cheek in pain. Tears welled up in her eyes but refused to let them fall. She shakily got back up to her feet and glared at the men in front of her. "Y-You punch like an old lady! That didn't hurt at all! You're weak!"

"This kid just doesn't know when to stay down. Very well, you'll get what you asked for" the man growled as he went to punch the girl again.

She just stood there, waiting for the impact but it never came as a knife had been thrown into the man's head, killing him on the spot. His body collapsed onto the ground while his partner's throat was slit open by another blade. She watched in horror as blood splattered all over her clothes and face. Backing up to the worn down wall, her legs gave out as she slid to the ground, terrified of the bloodbath she had just witnessed. The person's shadow came closer to her shaking form before it appeared under the streetlight.

"You ok, kid?" Levi asked.

All she could respond with was a nod.

"So, you stole their food?"

"Th-they had a mountain of food on their plates....and I haven't eaten in days...." she whimpered as she held her hollow stomach.

At that, Levi finally got a good look at her form. She looked no older than ten. Her frame was all boney and sick looking, her ribs were probably showing under that oversized tattered shirt, hair all matted, dirty and probably overgrown. He looked just like he did before Kenny had found him after his mother died. He couldn't let her suffer the way he almost did, and based on her appearance, she doesn't have any parents either. With a small sigh, Levi knelt to her level on the ground and offered a hand.

"Come with me. I'll help you get your strength back but you gotta help clean and help me hunt when you do, ok?"

She stared at his hand before shakily reaching her own boney hand out to take it. Once she did, Levi helped her onto his back and started to carry her back to his place.

"You have a name?" he asked.

"(Y-Y/n)....it's just (Y/n)..." she whispered tiredly.

"(Y/n), huh? I'm Levi. Go ahead and sleep, it'll take a bit to get home."

'A home...? Sounds nice....' (Y/n) thought before she drifted to sleep.

Levi glanced back at her sleeping form before sneaking into alleys and back roads to keep out of sight, wondering what his life will be like now that he has a partner to survive with,

~Several Years Later~

Years have passed and Levi and (Y/n) have done well surviving the hell hole they live in. The constant struggles of earning money, stealing food when they couldn't afford any, kicking other thug's asses. It's hard, yes, but they have each other's backs and company when all felt wrong. Levi comes in the house and finds (Y/n) asleep on the loveseat with her legs hanging over the armrest. Lately, he's noticed how tired and sore she'll be during the day and how she would go earn money at night. One day, she went to bend over to pick up a cup that she accidently dropped but had hissed in pain while placing a hand at her lower back. Going to help and ask what was wrong, she waved at him saying she had lifted too many crates for an old man. Levi knew she saw lying since her lips always moved when she does but didn't say anything else.

Walking over to her, he shook her shoulder. "Oi. (Y/n). Wake up, lazy brat."

(E/c) eyes fluttered open as a yawn escaped her mouth. She stretched her stiff limbs before sitting up and rubbing her neck "Do you have to call me lazy everytime I take a nap?" she mumbled.

"Yes, I do. Now get up. I brought food and it's your night to cook."

"Damn it....alright alright. Just give me the bag already." she sighed as she took the bag from his hands and went to the kitchen to see what all he had brought. As She was sorting through the ingredients, Levi stood and watched in the doorway with his arms crossed before hearing her speak up while her back was turned to him.

"So....Kal s-said there's an open spot at-" she was cut off by a fist punching the wall.

"I don't want to hear it, (Y/n)! You promised that you wouldn't sell your body to disgusting men and be a prostitute!"

she turned to him "But Levi-"

"No buts! You're not doing it! I forbid you!" he seethed with a dark glare.

An audible gulp was heard and nothing else was said as she continued to figure out what she could make in silence. Sudden footsteps made their way over to the young woman before stopping right behind her as arms made their way around her waist.

"L-Levi...?"

"I know you want to help but I can't let you do it. You know about my mom and how she died. I don't want it to happen to you too." He said softly with his chin on her shoulder.

(Y/n) sighed but rested her hands on his arms, rubbing her thumb on his skin. "Alright....I won't do it."

"Good. Now, finish dinner while I get cleaned up." With that, his gave her cheek a soft kiss before letting go of her waist and leaving to clean up the non-existent dirt off of him. (Y/n)'s cheeks went ablaze as she held a hand to the cheek he had kissed. She felt happy but she knew that he will find out about her secret job soon and it would tear him apart.

~A few weeks later~

(Y/n) knew that once Levi had cleaned and put away his knife he goes straight to bed. As she watched and made sure he wasn't going to come out anytime soon, she grabbed her bag and quietly sneaked out of their house, making sure to lock it so he wouldn't get on her ass about 'forgetting to lock the door before bed'. Looking around for any stalkers, she quietly made her way down a street, unknowing of a person hiding in the shadows watching her every move.

After turning a few corners here and there, she finally arrived at her destination. She looked up at the sign and cringed in utter disgust, loathe, and regret.

Kal's Prostitute Service.

With a deep breath, (Y/n) reached for the doorknob only for it to be roughly snatched away by a hand. With a gasp, she was forcefully turned around and now staring into the fuming eyes of a very pissed Levi.

"L-Levi, I can explain-"

"You're damn fucking right you'll explain. You're coming home. Right. Now."

At that, he forcefully dragged her by the arm, ignoring her whimpers and protests of how he was hurting her wrist. He was fuming. Raging with anger. He didn't know where to start. She promised him she wouldn't do it. Why the hell would she break her promise?

When he got there, he slammed open the front door and tossed her inside. She landed on the hard floor with a gasp before turning to look up at him. She's seen him angry before, but fucking hell, he was terrifying right now. With a gulp, she sat up a bit with a small tremble of fear.

"L-Levi please let me explain..."

"Explain what?! You went behind my back and did things you promised you wouldn't do! What fucking reason do you have for going back on your word?!"

"I had to! I couldn't stay at home while you did all the work anymore! I wanted to help!"

"You knew how I felt about you doing this shit! Why did you do it?!"

"B-Because..."

"Because what?!"

"Because I did it so we could get our citizenships to live up on the surface instead of this shithole!"

Levi stopped in his tracks and just stared at her. That was her reason? To help get the both of you to the city above them? Tears watered her eyes and spilled down her cheeks as she continued.

"I-I had to....I hate seeing you struggle and come home tired and dirty....I couldn't stand it anymore....s-so I took the job of being a-a prostitute.....only until we got the money to get out of this place and have a little extra to get the things we'll need....I couldn't stand being useless anymore, Levi. I-I'm so sorry...!"

She curled up on her spot on the floor and sobbed into her knees with her hands in her hair as Levi watched her, hearing her apologize over and over again through her hiccups. His anger burned out like a fire without air and carefully went over to her shaking form. When he kneeled down to her height, his arms encircled her form, making her tense as her sobs suddenly paused.

"How much...?" he asked softly.

"H-huh...?"

"How much do you have saved up?"

"M-More than enough to get us past the gate a-and to get our citizenship....I've asked around...and someone told me the prices......I saved twice as much than what we needed..." she explained.

He held her closer. "I'm sorry for getting so mad. I was just worried that I would lose you just like mom. I'm still not happy that you went behind my back....but I'm happy that you and I will get to live a better life up there."

(Y/n) blinked before she smiled through her tears and hugged him back. They both stayed like that for a small while before Levi pulled back with his signature glare. "Now, I'm all dirty."

That made (Y/n) laugh.

~Timeskip~

A few weeks had passed and Levi and (Y/n) had finally settled in their new home on the surface after buying some new furniture for it. And, of course, brooms. Levi couldn't forget the brooms. While Levi spent the days cleaning and organizing their new place, (Y/n) ran a small stand in the market. She had a big surprise for Levi. As the sun was starting to set, all the other stands were closing down, meaning (Y/n) could go home and have the day off tomorrow since her boss knew of her surprise. As she quickly packed up her stuff, she ran down the familiar street she takes everyday and soon made it home. With a smile, she went inside and placed her bag in its normal spot that Levi made just for her.

"I'm home~!"

Levi peeked his head from the kitchen and hummed before walking over to her. "You seem happy. What's the occasion?"

"You'll see tomorrow. Boss gave me the day off because of it."

"Oh? Then it must be a big surprise if you get an entire day off for it."

"Mhm! You'll love it~" she smiled.

"I enjoy everything that you give me, (Y/n)" he said as he ruffled her hair, making her whine in protest. Levi only chuckled and went back to the kitchen to finish the food he was preparing.

The next day, everything went smoothly until she had suddenly finished all her cleaning early before noon and had told Levi to get ready for his surprise. With a grunt, he got up from his spot on the couch and slipped on his boots as he waited for the woman to grab whatever she needed. Once she was back, the two headed out and began to walk. When they turned down a specific street, (Y/n) went behind him and covered his eyes, making him mumble a few curse words.

"Calm down, I'll make sure you won't fall. Just trust me." she smiled.

"Alright, fine. Hurry up, though. I don't like not seeing where I'm going." he huffed.

(Y/n) only giggled and carefully led him to a specific building before uncovering his eyes. In front of him was a small tea shop. And it wasn't no ordinary tea shop either. Inside was clearly cleaned to where it shined and several different types of tea was displayed neatly behind the counter with a good few table sets were evenly spread out enough where people can walk. He noticed that no one was here so he turned to her.

"You brought me to a tea shop with no one here?"

"Nooooooo. I brought you to your tea shop! You said you've always wanted to open one so, Ta-da~!" she grinned.

Levi was flabbergasted. The tea shop is his? He looked at her before suddenly pulling her in for a sweet kiss. (Y/n) tensed and turned a dark shade of red before slowly returning the gesture as her arms found themselves around his neck with his around her waist. The kiss lasted for a minute before Levi pulled back.

"I love it. And I love you. Thank you for everything." he smiled.

"You're welcome. And I love you too, Levi."

"I'm glad. Now, let's go see what kind of tea we have."

(Y/n) laughed at this but followed him inside as their new lives have only just begun.

[crusherthedoctor]

Can you list anything you unironically like in the games (and cartoons and comics) that you don't like?

I won't bother mentioning music, since that goes without saying and is to be expected for a Sonic game... unless you're Chronicles.

Sonic Adventure 2 (mixed gameplay-wise, annoying story-wise) - While I prefer Sonic's SA1 levels for a number of reasons, I still think his and Shadow's gameplay in SA2 is fun on its own merit. I also don't mind the treasure hunting gameplay returning or how big the levels are this time around, since Knuckles and Rouge are still fast and not '06 levels of slow. It's mainly the gimped radar that creates the unfortunate domino effect of making them a problem.

- Introduced Rouge, one of my favourite characters for how playful she is and how she's a lot more nuanced and intelligent than you'd expect.

- Some genuinely good scenes, like Eggman's trap on the A.R.K and Sonic escaping from the G.U.N. helicopter.

- Had some good ideas going for it, like the Pyramid Base and the Biolizard as a scientific monster instead of an ancient one.

- Despite my thoughts on the backstory itself (or rather, its execution), Shadow has enough depth and subtle qualities and occasional unintended hilarity to stand out from the typical dark rival characters you see in media.

- The Last Scene's music in particular is one of my favourite cutscene tracks in the series.

Sonic Heroes (mixed gameplay-wise, loathed story-wise) - The gameplay is fun when you're not being screwed over by repetitive combat, overly long levels and/or ice physics.

- Boasts some of the most consistently Genesis-worthy environments in the 3D games, up there with SA1's and Colours'.

- The in-game dialogue that isn't the same tutorial drivel repeated ad nauseam can be interesting, funny, etc.

- Reintroduced the Chaotix, which provided me with another character I quite like in the form of Vector.

- Bringing Metal Sonic back in full force and front and center in the plot after a long absence (not counting cameos and the like) is a perfectly fine idea. Just... not like this.

Sonic Battle (decent yet repetitive gameplay, mixed story-wise) - Emerl's arc is compelling, and it earns the emotional weight of having to put him down at the end.

- While some characters are iffy (read: Amy), other characters are extremely well-handled. Shadow is probably the prime example.

- Gamma's belly dance healing animation is fucking hilarious.

- When I was young, and the game was first announced, I was really excited about being able to play as Chaos. This proved to be my downfall when it turned out he was arguably one of the worst characters in the game due to being slower than me during the writing process, but I still recall that excitement fondly.

Shadow the Hedgehog (comedy classic) - The sheer amount of legendary stupidity this game has going for it makes it practically impossible to actually hate. It helps that it's not quite as white-knighted on the same level as '06... usually. You know you're in for a unique experience when you hear a gunshot every time you click something in the menu.

- By extension, Black Doom never gained an unironic fanbase like Mephiles/Scourge/Eggman Nega did, which means I'm a lot more willing to take Doom's dumbass brand of villainy in stride. He even has a unique design... a terrible one that rips off Wizeman granted, but alas, even that is a step-up from Fridge Shadow and Bumblebee Eggman.

- Despite being... well, Shadow the Hedgehog, some of the environments would fit right in with any other Sonic game, like with Circus Park, Lava Shelter, and Digital Circuit. Even the Black Comet levels look pretty cool.

- This game understands amnesia better than IDW does.

Sonic '06 (what do you think?) - The obvious one: Shadow's character was handled pretty well, even if it came at the cost of everyone else being a dummy and being forced to interact with Mephiles.

- Like SA2, there are some good moments, like the Last Story ending sequence with Sonic and Elise.

- In the greatest form of irony ever, I like Solaris as a concept and design(s), and its backstory has potential to serve as a parallel with Chaos without being a complete ripoff. Iblis sucks, Mephiles sucks, but I'm fine with Solaris.

- Introduced legendary characters like Sonic Man, Pele the Beloved Dog, Hatsun the Pigeon, and Pacha from The Emperor's New Groove.

The Rivals duology (apathetic outside of Nega-related grumbling) - There were some cool zone ideas in both games that were sadly let down by the restrictive and limiting gameplay. I particularly like Colosseum Highway for thus far being the only full-on Roman level in the series instead of merely having a couple minor hints of Roman, and Meteor Base for the unique scenario of the space station being built into an asteroid. These level concepts and others deserve a second chance IMO. (At least Frontier Canyon got a second chance in the form of Mirage Saloon, amirite?)

- Ifrit has a better design than Iblis. Not saying it's amazing, but the Firebird motif it has going on is a lot more interesting for a fire monster than the Not-Chaos schtick they had with Iblis.

Sonic and the Secret Rings (a very frustrating gaming experience) - Erazor Djinn, A.K.A. Qui-Gon Djinn, A.K.A. Dr. N. Djinn, A.K.A. I'll Take It On The Djinn, A.K.A. Not From The Hairs On My Djinny Djinn Djinn, is one of the best villains not associated with Eggman in the series. He's a Mephiles-type character done right, and there's actual weight and reason to his actions, however sinister or petty.

- I don't have strong opinions either way on Shahra as a character, but the Sonic/Shahra friendship is sweet and well-handled.

- The ending is one of Sonic's greatest moments. The sheer contrast between how ruthlessly he deals with Erazor and how comforting he is towards Shahra speaks volumes... Still gonna make fun of the mountain of handkerchiefs though. (Before anyone lectures me, I understand the significance of it and can even appreciate it from that angle... doesn't mean I'm not allowed to poke fun at it. :P)

- Another game with some redeeming environments. I love the aesthetic of Night Palace, and Sand Oasis looks gorgeous too.

Sonic Chronicles (my personal least favourite game in the series) - Uh...

- Um...

- Er...

- I like Shade's design?

Sonic Unleashed (overrated game and story IMO) - The obvious two: the opening sequence and the Egg Dragoon fight deserve all the praise they get.

- Seeing Eggmanland come to life was an impressive moment to be sure. While part of me does feel it didn't quite measure up to what I had in mind (ironically, the Interstellar Amusement Park ended up being closer to what I had in mind), it still looks badass and works well for what it is. I also don't mind the idea of it being a one-level gauntlet... key word being idea.

- Obviously, the game looks great. Not a fan of the real world focus (real world inspiration is fine, but copy-pasting the real world and shoving loops in it is just unimaginative), but it can't be denied that the environments look good.

- This game pulled off dialogue options a lot better than Chronicles did, since they didn't rely on making Sonic OoC.

Sonic and the Black Knight (just kind of boring all around) - Despite my gripes with the story (Merlina wasn't nearly as fleshed out as her unique anti-villain status deserved, which ends up severely undermining the ambition of the plot in more ways than one, and the other characters go from being useless yes men for King Arthur to being useless yes men for Sonic), I will admit it provides interesting insight into Sonic's character.

- Like '06 and Secret Rings, the ending is very nice... well, aside from Amy being an unreasonable bitch ala Sonic X at the very end.

Sonic the Hedgehog 4 (apathetic) - The admittedly few new concepts sprinkled within had promise. They may not have been as fleshed out as they could have been, but level concepts like Sylvania Castle and White Park, bosses like Egg Serpentleaf and the Egg Heart, and story beats like the Death Egg mk.II being powered by Little Planet, all could have been brilliant had they been better executed.

SatAM (apathetic outside of SatAM Robotnik-related grumbling) - I'm not a fan of the environments on the whole due to them looking too bland or samey, but there are some exceptions that look pleasant or interesting, like the Void.

Sonic Underground (apathetic) - The character designs make me feel better about myself.

- Does "large quantities of unintentional meme material" count as a positive?

Sonic X (mostly apathetic outside of Eggman's handling) - Helen was a better human character and audience surrogate in her one focus episode than Chris was throughout his entire runtime.

- Actually, most of the human characters not named Chris were legitimately likable. Including everyone in Chris' own family not named Chris. Hilarious.

- Despite arguably having the most Chris in it, I actually don't mind the first season that much, partly due to slight nostalgia from seeing it on TV when it was new, but mostly because Eggman actually acted like a villain for the most part, and certain other characters weren't quite as flanderized yet. It's season 2 and onwards where things started going off the rails IMO. (Incidentally, Helen's episode was part of season 1...)

The Boom franchise (apathetic) - Along with Chronicles, the games provide yet more proof that just because someone isn't SEGA/Sonic Team, that doesn't mean they're automatically more qualified to handle the series.

- The show had some good episodes here and there, and Tails' characterization was probably the most consistently on-point out of the cast.

- Despite not exactly being favourite portrayals for either character, even I'll admit that many of Knuckles and Eggman's lines in the show on their own were genuinely funny.

Archie Sonic (pre-reboot is mostly terrible, post-reboot is mostly... bland) - Whenever I doubt myself as a writer, I think back to Ken Penders, and suddenly I'm filled with a lot more confidence.

Sonic the Comic (apathetic) - Fleetway isn't a comic I tend to recall much of aside from how much of a loathesome cunt Sonic is, but IIRC, Robotnik's portrayal is pretty good. Different, but good.

IDW Sonic (stop pissing me off, comic) - Putting their handling aside (and being too obviously "inspired" by MGS in the latter's case), Tangle and Whisper are good characters IMO.

- Same goes for Starline, before he was killed off-screen and replaced with Toothpaste Snively.

- Execution aside (noticing a pattern?), the zombot virus was a fine concept on its own and an interesting new scheme for Eggman.

- I get to remind myself that I've never drawn scat edits and posted them publicly on Twitter.

[ickymichi]

KNOCKOUT!

h. shinsou

warnings: swearing, fighting, vulgar talk, slight toxic behaviour.

things to know: underground fighter au, no quirk au! shinsous kinda ooc ig

word count: 1.5k

note: didn’t know how to end this as per. but was originally gonna be a lyric fic but then i said no. also pls do not be afraid to send on anything about this shinsou cause he’s currently clouding the membrane! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

underground fighter!shinsou who came home 3 hours after his fight supposedly ended. unfortunately you couldn’t attend this one as you had your own work shift overlapping the fight times. you stayed up until the devils hour waiting for the tall male to trudge through the door, his usual large duffle bag either full of winning money or spare clothes slung over his shoulder.

“where were you?” one the bag hit the floor you spoke first, leaning against the wall while watching him toe off his air force. “what dya’ mean? i was at a match, you know that” he grumbled with a slight roll of his eyes and walked past you to the stuffy kitchen—silently noting another small hole in the wall—. “yeah i know that,” you said with a ‘duh’ tone, “but that ended three hours ago. where have you been in that time.”

shrugging his shoulders he finished off his water and lent on his elbows against the counter. “at the bar with the guys, what? i cant celebrate a win anymore? jesus” you looked at him like he told you he’d just grown an arm and three legs. “so you just didn’t think of inviting me, but every other bitch you kno-” “you were at fuckin’ work, i’m hardly gonna ask when i know the answer.”

again he rolled his eyes to the man above while lifting his hoodie over his frame and into the washing machine leaving him in his white wife beater, finally making his way out to the balcony while pulling a cigarette from the box in his pocket. “you know i finished just after the match was over, you couldn’t of just asked? was it to hard?” hitoshi blew the smoke in your opposite direction and looked towards you. “i cant have one night with my friends without you you attached to my hip all night huh? christ i’ll invite you next time if it annoys you that much woman” “so you think i’m clingy?” you scoffed with your arms crossed over your chest. hitoshi dryly laughed and looked down to the dark streets, people yelling and some coming home from night clubs and bars alike.

“maybe sometimes i think i do (y/n), listen to yourself right now.” your lips fell into a thin line at his comment, making you sigh and push yourself off the railing. “fuck you shinsou” you heard him kiss his teeth and turn to follow you through the narrow halls. “so i’m the bad guy again? all i said was that i didn’t want you hanging off my hip,” hitoshi went to follow you into the bedroom but was met with the door slammed in his face. “(y/n) baby please, c’mon i’m sorry i didn’t mean it in that way okay? just open the door please,” he waited another few seconds before hearing you shuffle then swing the door to show your glossy eyes. “one more chance hitoshi, one more and i swear if you pull shit like this i’m gone”

The bright lights, constant shouting, stuffy crowds and the smell of blood was something you grew accustomed to over the past year and a half. Thankfully, you didn’t have to get lumped into the huge crowd, being shinsous partner you you a seat at the ringside beside his trainers.

Tonight he was up against a rather tough opponent, one who played as dirty as the sport itself. And Hitoshi was feeling the effects of his foul play by the third round. His chest heaving, the hard muscles covered in sweat and a mix between his own and the other guys blood. You could already see that he would have a black eye and bruises along his cheek, aswell as a busted eyebrow.

Even with all his current injuries, it wasn’t like the fighter opposite him wasn’t feeling it either. Anyone could see he was just as tired as Shinsou, a limp in his step showing a particular hit to the stomach had him doubling.

“keep going ‘toshi one more hit and he’s out!” your lilac haired lover perked up slightly at the sound of your encouragement, brining his tape wrapped hands back up from his side, flexing them to feel the hard guard on his knuckles press against his skin. “oh? That your own little supporter?” the tan male taunted at shinsou, making him raise an eyebrow for a split second until he realised what the comment meant.

“yeah? What of it?”

“she looks like she’s taste real nice, bet she does huh? Probably wouldn’t put up much of a fight if I tried to get a taste myself” Hitoshi felt his blood boil at his words. “fuck off and just focus on what’s infront of you jackass” he chuckled darkly at Shinsou’s words and let a lopsided grin take over his beat up face. “ah c’mon sh must be sweet as if your gettin’ all tough. c’mon just once taste of that little kitty ca-”

Shinsou didn’t let him finish his vulgur sentence before he brought his leg up aiming his shin to kick into his unprotected rib cage. The minute his opponent hit the floor Hitoshi was on top him landing punch after punch to his face. “He’s out Shinsou! He’s out!” both his trainers lept up into the ring to pull him off the man who was now out cold. As they held him back Shinsou spat down onto the other fighter before raising a fist in the air.

—

“you did so good out there ‘toshi. ‘m really proud” you leant more into his side seaking the warmth you needed as you walked through the dark city streets. Hitoshi winced slightly as you pressed against a growing bruise, but of course he wasn’t going to tell you to get off him so he kept quiet. “thanks babe. did it all for you of course” he said the end of his sentence in a playful tone while pressing a kiss to your cheek. Knowing that the both of you find those lovey dovey parts of relationships too funny to take serious.

“how ‘bout we go celebrate in the bar, we can go alone or meet up with the others.” You hummed as an indication that you were thinking of an answer to five before letting a teasing grin grace your features. “we can do that, but I kinda wanna take my winnings first.”

He didn’t know exactly what you meant until you were leading him to the darker alley at the side of the path, falling against the cold brick. His eyes trained your face for until you brought your hands to his bruised cheek to pull him down, meeting his split lip halfway.

Hitoshi only pulled away until he felt his lungs beg for air. Once he did he took your smaller face in his large hands, holding you as if you were a fragile piece of fine china. Looking at you as if you were an angel sent from above for his viewing. He felt his chest tighten as you brought your hands to rest over his own, careful of the cuts and bruises along his knuckles.

“fuck, I fucking love you so much baby. Wont let anyone say shit or do anything to you. promise” he whispers as he brought his lips back to your own. Nearly Going against your claims of ‘hating the lovey dovey shit of relationships.”

“You ever think of quitting all this?”

Your voice was just above a whisper. Taking your boyfriend out of a slight trance he was in. “uh yeah sometimes I guess, why?” you shrugged at his question, really because you didn’t want an argument to start up. You know shit would hit the fan if you told him that you hated his job, how you hate that nearly every night you have to clean his beat up face in your cramped bathroom. You know he’d argue that it’s the only way to get money. Your job barely scraping the monthly rent if it wasn’t for his.

“i know what your thinking, and I can’t just quit because you don’t like seeing me with a few cuts and bruises” he laughed slightly at the soft pout now on your lips, letting his hands fall on your hips to rub against the exposed skin. “but sometimes it’s not just cuts and bruises hitoshi. Like 2 weeks you nearly broke two ribs for gods sake.” “yeah, but i didn’t. so I don’t see why your all mad about it. it’s not like I haven’t been taking beatings all my life anyway, what’s some weaklings that are only trying to make quick money.”

You couldn’t really argue with his point, and again, you weren’t going to because you didn’t feel like going to sleep in an empty bed. “isn’t that what your doing?” playfully, he slapped your ass and narrowed his eyes. “hey, i’m not some weakling. You see these guys?” you gave a noise of affirmation as you reached up to feel his bicep. “okay big guy calm it while I kiss your boo boos better.”

[uglypastels]

To the Beat // drummer!Tom 1/2

(a/n) here it is!!! it took about a decade of my life but i think it was worth it  also shoutout to @duskholland​ for hearing out my ideas when i was brainstorming and together with @captainpeggy40​  for getting me through my breakdowns while writing. i got it finished!! <3 I really went all out with this fic, so i hope you guys enjoy it!! part 2 will come... sometime this week ;)

word count: 7939 (unnecessary content GALORE) 

warning: drinking, swearing, crowded spaces, part 2 contains smut 

you can find the band’s setlist here

not all songs are mentioned in the fic but it’s songs that i would really love to see them play haha. if anyone would be interested, i can make a seperate post on how i imagine them playing it (who sings and stuff idk)

Read part 2 here <---> extra headcanons here

With the right stranger, one night can feel like a lifetime.

“Will you please come?” your friend begged you over the phone. “It’s gonna be really fun!” 

“You know, you say that a lot, yet I never have as much fun as you promise.” You sat down on your bed, looking out the window as the rain hit every surface outside. It was not exactly the weather you felt like going out in. 

“Then that’s on your extremely high expectations, not on me.” She stated, “But pleeease.” She kept on whining, and you knew she wouldn’t stop until you gave in. It always went like this. Always. 

“Ugh, fine.” you fell back on the soft mattress, your head only missing the pillow by an inch. “Where is it actually?” There was the question you both dreaded. You, because you knew you wouldn’t like the answer. Her, because she knew you wouldn’t either. 

“It’s at Suki’s,” she mumbled, but you could still hear her just fine. 

“That’s where you work right- please don’t tell me you’re working tonight?!” you groaned into the phone. 

“I am, but I’ll be done around 9.30 I think, so there’s still plenty of time for us to hang out! Besides, you already said yes, and NO TAKE BACKSIES!” she said this all extremely fast and screamed the last two words into your ear. Then, on top of that, hung up as soon as she finished, not giving you even a second to fight back. Not sure what happened, you stared at the black screen of your phone in confusion. 

She said the concert started at nine o’clock. Did she really expect you to go to this thing and spend half an hour by yourself? Or did she want you to sit at the bar while she poured drinks for everyone? Either way, none of those options felt appealing. For a solid minute, you contemplated just not going, just… not showing up. Turning off your phone and watching a movie or something at home. 

But at the same time, you hadn’t left the house for a long time. And it was Friday night. Why not go out and see some obscure little band. What was their name again? Your friend had mentioned it, but you already forgot. Maybe it was for the better too. That way, you couldn’t look them up beforehand, and if they were shit, you would just find out there and not have another thing to be dreading as you got ready. Or maybe they would be good. Then it would be a pleasant surprise on the spot. 

You checked the time. 7:27pm. That gave you about an hour to get ready and then some time to actually get to the bar. Should be doable. 

So, you hopped in the shower to get all fresh again. Even if it would all get ruined later on in the night by standing in a sweaty crowd. It’s the effort to look presentable that counts. Then, you picked out an outfit that would be comfortable in the before mentioned crowd. You could never go wrong with the simple jeans and a t-shirt combo. 

Looking in the mirror, the thought of Not Going popped up in your mind again. There was nothing really obliging you to go. And the idea of standing there listening to the loud music, whether it was good or not, sounded slightly exhausting. 

No, you reminded yourself, it would do you good to leave the house once in a while. Have “fun”. You checked the time once more, 8:14. You had done everything a bit quicker than you expected. The Uber you had arranged for yourself would be there in a few minutes. So, you were stuck in that kind of waiting limbo, sitting on your couch, not sure what to do. Eventually, you put on your shoes and got your keys and were ready to head out. 

The drive was quick and thankfully, mostly quiet. It was only a minute or two before you reached your destination that the driver decided to ask you where you were headed. 

“Concert,” you said hesitantly. Why did these people always want to know your business? Thankfully, the man didn’t ask much more. And then it was time for you to get out of the car. The drive actually took much less time than you had expected and there was still some time left before the band would start to perform. 

Suki’s was a bar downtown, in the basement of some kind of law firm. Their whole thing was that they let new bands and artists play each week so they could get some of the public’s interest going. Make themselves known to the world. It was literally and figuratively, an underground following that it had. Many, but at the same time, nobody knew about it. It was a secret amongst music lovers. Considering the bar wanted to stay its own secret, you never understood the bright neon lights above the entrance, going down the staircase all the way to the actual hall. 

The bar itself wasn’t too big. Enough space for a small stage along one wall, a bar on the opposite side, and the rest was space for the crowd to either enjoy or hate the music being played. When you walked in the room was still relatively empty. You saw two guys setting up equipment on stage, you assumed it was the band. Behind them was a black banner with “Winter Solstice” written in scratchy white letters. Between the words, a star that was drawn on in precisely the same rough manner. You had to admit, it was a cool name. 

Considering there weren’t many people there yet, you headed for the bar to get yourself a drink before it would be too crowded to even reach the counter. And there stood your friend, behind the bar talking to some guy. They were both laughing at something as you walked up. 

“y/n! You came!” you squealed out, “what can I get ya?” 

“A beer?” you said it more like a question. 

“Coming right up.” And with that, your friend walked off to the tap to pour you your drink. It was more out of reflex when you sat down on the stool, you leaned your head on your hand, but you understood the question from the stranger when he spoke up. 

“Not looking forward to it?”

Still with your chin on your knuckles, you turned to face him. 

“Huh? Oh no, I mean… she kind of made me come here, but-” you tried not to sound too pessimistic, but the guy saw right through you.

“So, I guess the answer is yes.” He chuckled. Right then, your friend came holding your drink and put it in front of you. 

“I’ll put it on your tap.” She was going to join the conversation but right then a group of tonight’s spectators walked up in need of drinks, so she was soon off again. 

“I’m not not looking forward to it?” nothing in your voice made it sound like you were sure of yourself, but it was enough for him. You took a sip of your beer, which you could feel helping the situation. While doing that you looked over the brim of the tall glass to look at your conversation partner. Like you, he was drinking a beer himself and considering it was almost empty, he had done that either very fast, or he had been there for a while already. 

Next, you took a look at him. From the profile, he looked pretty good. He was wearing a loose tank, showing off his arms. His dark curly hair was held back with a black cap that he wore backwards. What definitely stood out to you was his jawline. It looked like you could cut yourself on it just with the slightest of touches. For everyone’s sake, you quickly turned your gaze over to the extensive liquor collection in front of you. But you could see in the reflection behind the bottles how he was smiling to himself. He definitely saw you stare. This was awkward, and you only got here two minutes ago.

“So, do you know the band?” you asked in the hopes to weed out this weird situation you had created. For some reason, your question made him smile. In that type of way as if you had just mentioned an inside joke. Except you weren’t in on it, so you couldn’t laugh along. 

“Yeah, they’re alright.” He shrugged. Then, as if he suddenly remembered something, he shot up straight in his seat. “I’m Tom, by the way.” 

“y/n.” Then you remembered how your friend practically screamed out your name when you walked in, “but you already knew that.” Your phone vibrated with a text, so you took it out and immediately saw the time, it was already past nine. You looked over at the stage where the two guys were trying to untangle some chords. Clearly, it wasn’t starting anytime soon. 

“What kind of music do they play?” You asked Tom while still looking at the band trying to get ready. 

“A bit of everything, I suppose.” 

You bit your cheek not to say anything that might come off rude, but he could still read you. 

“I guess that wasn’t the right answer?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“I just hoped to get something more specific, but as long as they’re good, I’ll enjoy it.” You took another sip of your beer as an excuse to shut up. He must think you’re such a bitch at this point. You saw him glance over your shoulder at the stage and then smile at you. 

“I like you.” there was that chuckle of his again, “I’ll see you later, then.” And he got up. You were gonna ask why later? Why couldn’t you hang out now? You didn’t like to admit it, but you enjoyed his company, even though it was only brief and most of the time you spent it making yourself look like a moron. As superficial it made you sound, you simply enjoyed the presents of a good looking guy like him.

You were going to ask him, but he quickly disappeared into the crowd that started to form along the foot of the stage. More and more people were coming and joining in. The two guys from the band had finally untangled their chords and were placing their guitars over their shoulders, and plugged them into the amplifiers. That’s when you noticed that a spot was empty on the stage. The big drum set had no occupant yet. 

So, while everyone waited for the drummer to show up, you took this time to look at the other two band members, trying to decide which one was the cuter one. 

That turned out to be slightly more difficult of a task, you quickly realised. Though they were both very different, they were both also extremely good looking. There was the blonde, strumming a few simple chords on his guitar to warm up. Even in the dim light, you could see how perfectly chiselled his face was. He was wearing a slightly oversized button-up shirt with about half of the buttons open. The skinny jeans didn’t seem comfortable to you, but he made them work. The rings on his fingers reflected in the lights as he kept on strumming. 

The other had a bit more of a playful vibe around him. His curly mop of hair bounced with every move he made. You could hear his loud and contagious laugh all the way from the other side of the room without the need for a microphone. His outfit was something completely different compared to the blonde. It consisted of a baggy t-shirt (that you could read the band logo on), with ripped dungarees that were only attached on one side. He had rolled them up, showing off his bright converse. His bass guitar was currently hanging behind his back as he adjusted the mic stand one last time. There was something familiar about him, though you were sure had never seen him before. 

Then finally, a third person joined them. People cheered since it meant that they could finally start playing. You tried to get a good look at him before he hid behind the drum set. Hair was hiding beneath a cap, tank top… wait… was it-

You got up and walked through the audience. There weren’t that many people, so it was reasonably easy to get to the front. Or, almost at the front row, standing right in front of them felt a bit intimidating. Now you could see all three of them much better, and there was no denying it. Your new acquaintance Tom was the drummer. And when you looked over at the curly bassist again, you realised why he looked so familiar. It was not an identical resemblance, but there was enough that made you think they were related somehow. 

You watched Tom spin one of his drumsticks in his hand. He had the biggest smile on his face, then he caught your eye and winked. The cheeky bastard knew exactly what he was doing, you were sure of it. He was waiting for your surprised reaction, and you fell for it completely—hook, line and sinker. 

The curly one got up to his microphone. “Hey everybody, we’re Winter Solstice,” his voice was much deeper than you had expected. Especially, considering that he actually looked younger than the other two, you noticed. “We thought you’d appreciate some more known songs tonight, so join in whenever.” 

Alright, they were gonna do covers. That was not a wrong move at all. A lot of bands want to show off their own music, but most of the time that leaves the audience just swaying awkwardly because they don’t know the lyrics or what to expect. 

“Here’s one you all should know.” 

The blonde started playing his guitar, and it only took a second or two before everyone realised what song it was. Mr Brightside. It sounded a bit different, as their attempt to make the song their own, but the riff was unmistakably Mr Brightside. Everyone around you immediately cheered and started to dance along, waiting to sing the lyrics. You were too, of course, but all you could think about was Tom playing in the back. He looked so focused, but still didn’t let it sit in the way of enjoying the song. 

In the song, the drums probably only started a beat before the lyrics, so you missed out on the first few words, but quickly you were singing too. 

“But she’s touching his chest now, he takes off her dress now. Let me gooo,” the blonde guitarist sang. His voice wasn’t perfect, it was rough, some might have called it cursive, but in that right sort of way. It fit well with the rest of the band and how they played. In just a minute, they had gotten the entire room hyped up. Everyone was into it. Maybe it was because of the song choice, but you doubted it. A song like that can be tricky to sing to a new crowd. If you screwed it up, they’d hate you forever.  

That was definitely not the case here, they had the crowd in the palms of their hands. With each beat, you were pulled in…or, was that just you? 

The second verse started, and it was the bassist that began to sing: “I'm coming out of my cage, and I've been doing just fine-” There was no clear description of his voice. At least you couldn’t really pinpoint it. There was definitely that playfulness in it that he had been showing through everything he did. He couldn’t stay still, jumping in place, making his curls bump up and down as he went. 

“It was only a kiss” 

It was Tom that said the little interjection in the song. You had only looked his way at the end, while the other was already singing, but you felt as if he had been looking at you directly. No, he wasn’t. Why would he? You shook the thought off and continued enjoying the performance of the three men. You sang along just like everyone else. 

And then the song ended. It was almost unbelievable that it had only been one song that they played, but they moved on to the next quickly. 

The guitar faded out but came straight back, accompanied by a heavy bass line. Some people around you recognised the melody, but it took you a moment or two. Then it went quiet. The blonde leaned into his microphone, whispering the words. 

“I’m the invisible man,” guitar riff “I’m the invisible man,” guitar, “Incredible how you can- see right through me!” His voice got louder as Tom joined in with the drums. Then those few seconds of bass followed which actually sent shivers up your spine. To put it simply, you were a sucker for good bass and beat. But what was it about them that sounded so good? You couldn’t think of anything particular that would have set them apart from all the other artists you had seen perform in the club through the years… 

Still, seeing them have so much fun on stage, it was truly intoxicating, you wanted to join them. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen someone jump around on that little stage while playing bass. You couldn’t wait to find out what their names were, but for now, “the curly bassist” didn’t take a second to stand still. The only time he stood in one spot was when he had to sing, and even then he moved around a lot. 

The others didn’t have that same luxury. Of course, Tom did not have a lot of options, sitting behind his drum set. Yet still, he managed to light up the stage with his bright smile and the passion he put into his drumming. Any time you looked at him, you didn’t want to look away- which was hard, considering that the other two were also a great joy to watch. 

The blonde, in his turn, stayed on his side of the stage, being somewhat stuck with his microphone since he had the most vocals. But he still had a great connection with the audience, you felt like. 

Before you knew it, the second song had also come to an end. Cheers and applause erupted in front of the band, with you contributing to it as well, of course. 

“Thank you, thank you,” the bassist took a little bow. Even though they weren’t playing any song, he still slapped one of the strings mindlessly. “Like I said, we’re Winter Solstice. My name’s Harry.” He introduced himself. Finally, you could call him something else than the curly bassist. Even though it was a very catchy nickname, you thought yourself. 

“Here on the guitar,” Harry pointed out, “Is my good friend Harrison.” Harrison waved to the crowd, receiving screams from the audience as if it was filled with banshees. 

“In the back,” Tom immediately started a soft drum roll, but Harry didn’t wait that long, “that’s Tom.” Tom reacted with a face that could only be described as “bruh”, making several people around you laugh. You wondered if it was rehearsed or if this was just how they were. Either way, it was cute. 

Harry talked some more about how they were excited to play tonight, but you were looking at Tom. You watched him grab a water bottle and drink half of it in almost one chug. When he pulled it away from his mouth, you saw that he caught you staring. Even though you were between dozens of people, even though the light that was shining in his face- he saw you. And he winked again. In the next moment, you had to think if the heat burning through your body was an effect of that little gesture or because of how warm it was in the room. For your own sake, you went with the second option. 

“Alright, here’s another song for you all,” it was a voice you hadn’t heard speak before. Harrison. “Here’s: You Oughta Know.” There was a mixed reaction from the audience, including you. Of course, you knew the Alanis Morisette song, but you had never heard it be played by men.  It was definitely an interesting choice for them to play, especially after the Killers and Queen. 

“I want you to know that I am happy for you,” it was Tom that started singing, as he drummed softly. You tried to control your thoughts as he kept on singing. Then the pre-chorus began, and you were shocked at how well they harmonised. 

“Cause the love that you gave that we made wasn't able to make it enough for you to be open wide.” It actually gave you chills. How were you so excited about listening to three strangers sing? 

At the chorus itself, everyone in the room went wild, singing along loudly. It was clear that the people were sold on this new version of the song. It was all fine. You were enjoying the show. It was actually fun. And then, Tom sang the next line- 

“It was a slap in the face. How quickly I was replaced. And are you thinking of me when you fuck her?” It sure was a slap in the face. You had to remind yourself that it was just the lyrics of the song. And he was just a guy on stage that you had only exchanged a few words with prior. Yet, you couldn’t focus on anything from that moment on. You could barely comprehend their version of “Are You Gonna Be My Girl”, not even really understanding that they were playing a different song. It was just a big blur. But maybe it was for the better, because could you really cope with Tom singing the titular phrase of the song in that husky way that he did... debatable. 

When you woke up from your daze, Tom had stood up to show the crowd the beat to clap to. You joined in before anyone noticed how far out of it you indeed were. Harrison finished the song off with a falsetto and then it was already time for the next song. 

This time you knew what to do. You wanted to record at least some part of the show. And when harry started a bass solo, you made sure to get at least a bit of it and continued filming from there, ready to post it on your Instagram later on. Harrison joined in with the guitar, and you actually had no idea what song they were playing. More people didn’t seem to recognise the song immediately, which visibly amused the musicians. They couldn’t hide their grins even behind the microphones. Once again, the harmonies… how did they sound so good? 

As the song continued, the more sure you were that you had heard it before, but it must have been very different from the original. No, actually… How did you not recognise Dua Lipa? It was not hard to forget about the original when you got to listen to this version. How had each song so far been this good, you still didn’t understand. You didn’t want it to end. 

But unfortunately, right after that, they took another break from singing. 

“Alright!” Harrison cheered (more squeals from his side of the audience followed. Apparently he had started to gain quite the following). “The next song is another classic, I like to think.” People whooed. “So we’d like some help from you guys if that’s okay.” The crowd seemed to be into it, so Tom followed with the instructions. 

“Okay, so we’re gonna start playing in a sec, and Harry will sing a little melody. Just copy that, and we’ll be on our way.” In the meantime, Harry had gone off stage to grab a bottle of water, so everyone had to wait for a second. This gave Tom the opportunity to freestyle on his drum set. It was a simple beat, but it progressed into a more complex set. He, however, did it effortlessly. 

Finally, Harry came back running, he threw bottles to the other two, which they both caught without a problem. Tom started to press the bass drum steadily, layering more on top of it. Then Harry joined with the bass, and ultimately, Harrison’s guitar finished it off. Harry leaned into the microphone. 

“Ooooo-ooo-oo-oo, ooooo-ooo-oo-oo, oooo-oo-oo,” he almost whistled, but not quite. He continued a few times, together with Tom and Harrison until everyone in the room was singing along. Then made that kind of gesture to show you had to stop. Harrison sang the verse. Anytime it was your turn, you’d just follow Harry. 

You had been to many concerts, but not many new bands had much luck in getting a full crowd to participate in the song. But by the way they played, everyone just wished they could be in the band, playing along with them. Even if it was just dangling the triangle. You, however, didn’t want that, necessarily. You assumed that it was the fact that you hadn’t been out of the house in so long, that now that you had the chance, everything felt hundred times more great. So a concert that was already amazing, suddenly felt like a euphoric, once in a lifetime, experience… though that might go a bit too far. And it for sure helped that all three band members were hot. Like, really really hot. 

Literally, too, the room was getting really warm at this point, and the guys were visibly hot also. It didn’t stop them from performing at 110% though. A few songs more passed by and Harry was still jumping around the stage. Harrison sang every note perfectly as he slew that guitar of his and Tom… 

You could barely look at Tom. Playing the drums as hectically (in the good sense) as he did, you thought he would be exhausted by now. But he still had that big perfect smile on his face. The sweat was dripping down his arms, but it just highlighted his biceps, making it very hard for you to concentrate on the music. And then, no matter what he was doing, he would find you in the crowd and smirk or wink, making you even more flustered than you were before. The first time, you thought he was doing it to someone else. But then it happened again, and again. And the beat of drums led your heart. You could feel it in your throat as it kept pumping with the loud music. 

It was during their little break which they used to goof around and play the intro of “Chelsea Dagger”, that you decided to go back to the bar. Your friend had said she wouldn’t leave you alone for the entirety of the concert, but you were already quite some songs in and there was still no sign of her. And you quickly realised why that was. Since the show had started, the entire room had filled up with people. You had never seen it be so crowded, in fact. And then the bar was packed with people asking for their drinks. 

Your friend was indeed there, with another bartender, doing her best to pour the drinks quickly. But more and more people got thirsty, so it was easy to assume you would have to spend the rest of the night alone as well.

By that time, the band started on the next song of their setlist, and you really thought they were playing one big joke on you. Or at least this Tom guy was. As he loudly sang Sex on Fire, by Kings of Leon, you decided to sit this one song out from the front row and stay back, near the bar. It actually did you well, because it was much less hot than upfront. You could just stay there for the rest of the show. They had been through around ten songs already, so they must be done soon, either way, you thought. 

And you were right. Ending with Come Together, the applause was bigger than through the entire night. The boys finished with extended solo’s of their respective instruments and a bow, and it was really over. Harry came up to the microphone one last time as the other two were already getting off stage. 

“Thank you! We are Winter Solstice! Buy our merch at the door! GOODNIGHT!” 

The idea of buying a t-shirt was pretty fun. And apparently, you weren’t the only one who thought that. Far from it, actually, The line at the little merch booth quickly exceeded the length of the small concert hall. You wondered if they even had enough things to sell. Would it even be worth it to stand in line? You just waited for the stream of new fans to cool down.

Eventually, it did. Slowly, but surely, the line got shorter. You also noticed that there were a few people that had the exact same idea as you had, so you joined the queue before the rest could. You didn’t even have to wait that long. Before you knew it, you were standing at the little table. There were piles of t-shirts and cd’s, and there were more boxes behind the table too. They really came prepared. Harrison had just been folding up an empty box when you walked up. 

“Hi. Can I get a (your size)” you asked, already pulling out your card to pay, “and a CD?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Harry grabbed a shirt for you with a smile. Tom had been talking to the girl that had been in line in front of you, but he quickly turned to look at you when he heard your voice. 

“y/n!” He finished the conversation with the other girl before moving over to join his bandmate. 

“Hey,” you wish it hadn’t been so, but a lot changed since the first time you spoke to him, let it only have been about an hour. There was something about him being in the band you just watched perform and buying his merch, that made you feel like a little school girl standing next to him. 

“I thought you had left.” He noticed you leave? Not the point. 

“No, I just went to the back. It was getting a bit hot for me upfront.” 

“Ah,” he nodded. “Did you enjoy the show then?” 

“Yes!” you said, a bit too loud, “You guys were great.” You looked at the CD that Harry had just handed you and smiled. “And I was wondering if you could maybe sign this for me?” Out of nowhere, Harrison appeared behind Tom, grabbing the CD from your hands and putting his signature right at the centre of the packaging. Just as quickly as he appeared, he went back to whatever he was doing before. But not without sending you a wink first. What was it with these guys and winking? Not that you really minded it. 

Harry took the slightly more polite approach, waiting for you to hand him the CD and he signed it above Harrison’s signature. Then he handed it over, together with the marker, to Tom. 

“So, we got ourselves a number one fan, huh?” 

“No, I’ll just wait ‘til you guys get famous so I can sell it on the internet and get rich.” That was probably not the response Tom had expected, which you immensely enjoyed. Next to him, Harry erupted in a fit of laughter. 

“Haz, did you hear that? She thinks we’ll be famous.” His laugh was even better close up. While Harry and Harrison kept on laughing, you used the moment to speak to Tom, one on one. 

“So why didn’t you tell me you were in the band?” you asked. 

“What does it matter,” he chuckled.

“You let me ask all those questions about the band, it’s fucking embarrassing, man.” you couldn’t help but laugh yourself. 

“Heh, sorry.” he took off his cap to rearrange his hair since some of it had fallen in his eyes through the night. You didn’t know what else to say, so the conversation died down. Then you remembered that there was still a bit of a line behind you of people that wanted to buy the merch as well. 

“Let me just pay for these, and I’ll be off.” 

“No, it’s fine, on the house,” Tom said. You looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Are you sure? It’s really no problem.” 

“Yeah, just promise me one thing.” 

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, not sure what to expect. You didn’t want to jump onto that wagon too quickly. 

“Will you stay? I’d really like to hang out.” 

You weren’t sure what to answer at first. You did want to stay and talk to him, but it was getting late, and you had been standing for a long time, and you were kinda gross from how warm it was during the concert… but Tom was really hot. And he asked so nicely. 

“Sure.” you gave in. “I’ll hang out with my friend at the bar and let ya get back to-” you pointed around the table to make your point across. He nodded and waved you goodbye as you walked away, clutching on to your newly bought merchandise.

Just like you thought, your friend was indeed still at the bar, cleaning up leftover glasses from the counter. She saw you walk over and you could tell she saw something different in you. 

“Look at you beaming, girl! What happened?” she put away the half-dried glass to listen to you. 

“Nothing?” you said casually. She saw right through you though, so you just decided to give up the little act. “Tom asked me to wait behind for him.” You bit your lip, expecting to get a lecture from her. But none of that happened. Instead, she squealed out in, what seemed like, excitement. 

“Ooh, Tom is such a great guy!” 

“You know him?” you asked, surprised. 

“Well, he was the one that got their band the gig here, so we talked here and there, mostly planning,” she explained. “And I mean, look at him.” she sighed and her eyes glazed over a bit when she looked in the direction of the merch table. Not sure what else to do, you followed her action and glanced over. Of course, right at that time, Tom decided to look in your direction as well. He smiled and waved lightly, making your cheeks heat up and quickly look away. Your friend, however, waved back enthusiastically. 

“So you think it’s safe for me-” what were you even gonna ask her? 

“Go have fun, I say. But if anything does happen, remember the codeword?” Her tone changed to a more serious one, which you appreciated. You had agreed ages ago on a codeword to use. In case a date turned for the worst, or generally if something felt off. 

“Broccoli, baby. I know.” 

“Broccoli.” She held up her hand for a high five, which you gladly accepted. 

You chatted for a little bit longer. Every few minutes tho, you’d be sure to glance over your shoulder to see if the merch line was getting any shorter. It didn’t seem like it. There was simply no end to it. You felt yourself getting frustrated. To the point that your friend actually pointed it out, snorting from holding in her laughter. 

“He has got you whipped, hasn’t he?” she bumped your shoulder playfully. All you did was roll your eyes. Which, actually, said everything she needed to know. He did, didn’t he? You always had a soft spot for musicians, dated a few. But comparing them to Tom now… it felt like a joke. There was something about this guy that made you want to know more about him. You wanted to see him play and sing again. You wanted- do a lot of things. But you had to get that out of your head. Let the night speak for itself, see where it leads you. If it would be his bedroom… that would be fine. Just fine. 

You knew you were crazy for thinking all of this, but a girl can dream, right? 

You looked across the room and were glad to see that there were only a few people left. Harry had already started packing everything up that would most likely not be sold that night. You watched the three of them make some small chat with the people walking by, but all your real focus was on Tom and his deep stare right at you. It made your heart beat faster. With his arms across his chest, the muscles seemed even more prominent. 

He was suddenly pulled back into the conversation, and it was as if he changed into a different person. All bubbly, none of that- what even was it that he looked at you? You decided to not think about it too much. One does not do well when dwelling about anything. 

Finally, the last person bought their shirt, and they were done. Hoping it didn’t make you look too desperate, you didn’t waste a second to walk over to them. Harrison and Tom were helping Harry pack up the rest of the things that were left on the table. 

“Hey,” you said awkwardly. Tom almost dropped the stack of shirts he was holding. Again, the attention fell to his arms. You had to force yourself to look up at his face, which didn’t help much either, but it made it easier to think thoughts that would not mean a one-way ticket to Hell. 

“Hi! I’m so glad you stayed,” he said after putting those shirts in the box. “I thought we could go grab something to eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” He spoke really fast, just showing how excited he was to talk to you again. To be honest, you weren’t necessarily hungry, but going out to eat with Tom didn’t sound too bad. 

“Don’t you have to pack up?” You pointed back to the stage that still counted all of their equipment. 

“No, we’re playing here tomorrow, again,” Harrison explained. 

“Oh, cool.” Was all you said. It was cool, you just didn’t know how to say anything without sounding dumb. 

“Well, shall we? There’s a diner on the way to my flat. It has the best burgers.” Tom exclaimed. You ignored the little mention of his apartment and focused on the burgers. He wasn’t suggesting for you to come over to his place. It was just a fact… right? 

“Lead the way,” you told him, but before you left, you turned to the other two members of Winter Solstice. “It was nice meeting you guys.” Everyone waved, and so on, and you were off to eat. 

It was almost midnight by the time you got there, but the diner Tom had mentioned did advertise as a 24/7. And it held up. When you walked in, you were practically hit in the face with the delicious smell of pie. You sat down in a booth next to the large window and very soon after a waitress walked up. 

“What can I get ya?” she asked, flipping her little notebook open.  

“I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries, thanks,” Tom asked. Then it was your turn. 

“Just large fries for me, thank you.” The waitress wrote it all down, then continued to ask if you wanted anything to drink. 

“Ooh, do you have milkshakes?” The woman smiled and nodded. “So a chocolate milkshake then.” You ordered. 

“Make it two,” Tom added. Then the waitress went off, Tom leaned on the table toward you, with his hands in front of him. “So, just fries, huh?”

“I’m not super hungry, and I wasn’t going to steal your fries,” you explained, making Tom laugh and shake his head. 

“You’re interesting, you know that?” 

“I like to think so, yeah,” you answered straightforwardly. It was a pity you had not gotten your drinks yet, or you would have taken a very nonchalant sip. You leaned your chin on your hand, just like you did at the bar before the show. Except for this time, there was a smile hiking up the corners of your mouth. Tom mirrored your position. 

“So how did you guys come up with the name?” you had been wondering that ever since you saw that banner hanging on the stage. It was always interesting to find out the thinking process like. 

“You gotta ask Harry, he came up with it one day, and we just went along. He’s the more artistic one of the bunch.” Of course he is. Well, that didn’t answer anything then. But another question popped up in your mind.

“Are you guys related?” 

Tom smiled at that question. “Yeah, Harry is my younger brother. Harrison has been my best mate ever since I can remember. We’ve always been close and messing around. Then one day we decided to grab some old instruments from the attic and- sorry, I’m probably boring you, aren’t I?” He took off his cap again and ruffled his hair. You thought he would put it back on, but he left it on the table. There was pretty good lighting at Suki’s, but the colourful spotlights were no match to the bright LEDs of the diner. 

“I don’t see how you thought that was boring,” you assured him. You truly enjoyed his little story, talking about his friend and brother. You had doubted the choice of going out to eat so late at night with a stranger, but now the reason was apparent. He didn’t want to be strangers-he wanted to get to know you. And you wanted to get to know him.

The waitress came back with two large milkshakes, topped with whipped cream and syrup. She said that the food would be ready in a few more minutes and left you to continue your conversation. You nudged Tom on to go on where he stopped previously. 

 “So yeah,” he cleared his throat, “we played and thought, hey that doesn’t sound shit, and we practised for a few months and decided some time ago, why not try and play.”

“Was this your first gig?” you asked in disbelief. He shook his head, though. 

“We’ve performed a few times, but this was the first one that felt… real, you know. Maybe it was just me, but I felt this great connection with the crowd, and it felt great.” You nodded along with every word, without realising that you had been getting lost in his eyes. He had been looking into yours as he spoke about that connection, and it made you feel that maybe, just maybe, he meant you specifically. 

“y/n?” He eventually asked, waking you up. You almost spilt your milkshake from the abrupt movement you made as you tried to sit up.

“What? Sorry.” You held the glass until it didn’t shake. 

“I asked if you enjoyed it? The show?” 

“Didn’t you ask that already?” Stupid way to answer! “But yeah, I loved it. You were really great- I mean, all of you.” but especially you, you wanted to add on, but that felt like going too far. As you were trying to come up with a normal-sounding answer there, Tom sipped from his milkshake. Something in his eyes told you that he could tell what you wanted to say, and that thought scared you a little bit. All you wanted to do was to give this hot guy a good impression of yourself, was that really that hard? 

But he didn’t say anything about it. Just continued the conversation as you hoped he would.

“Well, I’m glad. Honestly, you had scared me a bit back then, when you left,” he admitted. And there were the heart palpitations again, beating faster and faster. You grabbed the cold milkshake because you could feel yourself getting hotter. 

“How so?” you choked out. 

“Just because I could tell you weren’t exactly looking forward to the show, and then I saw you leave and didn’t come back. I thought you didn’t like us.” Us. He said “us”. Then we did it feel like he just wanted to say “me”? 

“I wanted to check up on my friend, and then I realised that it was much colder in the back, so I stayed there.” you explained again, “But why be worried about me, there were plenty of other people enjoying themselves.” 

He was about to answer when the waitress walked up with two large plates. She put them on the table with a smile, which you noticed was more directed towards Tom than you. He responded with a tight smile himself, but only shortly, turning back to you quickly to respond to your question. 

“No one there was as cute as you.” 

“What?” This time you made sure not to make any sudden movements to save your food and drink on the table. Did he really say that? But he didn’t clarify himself, he just smirked, enjoying your flushed expression a little too much. He put a fry in his mouth and still ate it with that smug smirk. You just went and ate some of your own fries, avoiding eye contact with him. You just needed a second to sort your thoughts. 

That second lasted a little longer, but at least you had the food to use as an excuse to avoid “awkward silence”. 

“So do you play any instruments?” he asked. You looked up to see that he had almost finished his burger. When you saw the dish being brought up, you thanked yourself and any god watching out there that you didn’t choose to order one. It was absolutely massive, meaning you would make a complete mess out of yourself—a sight for no one to see but your tv screen on a lonely night. 

“Uh, I can play a few notes on the piano but all very beginner's level.” You dipped a fry in your milkshake. 

“Like what?” He seemed genuinely interested. 

“Uhm.. the Flintstones theme song, for one. There was more, but I haven’t played in ages, so I doubt I remember anything.” 

“Flintstones, huh, nice.” He took the last bite of his burger. Knowing how weird it is to look at someone when they’re eating, you looked out the window for a second. It was dark outside, and the rain had come back, letting all the street lights reflect in the asphalt. 

You both finished the remains of your fries and milkshakes while making some more small talk. You got up simultaneously from the booth. Was it over now? You hoped not. You didn’t want to say goodbye. 

You grabbed your things while Tom paid for the food. Then you realised he had left his cap on the table so grabbed it too. But your hands were already full, so you decided to just put it on. Backwards, just like he had been wearing it through the evening.

“It looks good on you,” he commented when you met at the door. 

“Thanks,” there was the heat up your cheeks again. “And thank you for everything else, I had a really great night.” you were about to take the hat off to give it back, but he stopped you.

“It doesn’t have to end here, darling.”

To be continued...

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed

> please leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them and let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2! 

>masterlist and link to taglist in bio 

tagging: 

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[themattress]

Assorted Robotnik/Eggman Opinions

Because he’s my overall favorite character in the Sonic franchise.

- I did a post showing his various looks, and I want to be on the record as saying that each and every one of them has some validity to them...except for the 2006 one. It’s just trash. In fact, that incarnation of the character might just be the worst ever, as he’s just a bland, one-note “realistic” take whose M.O of constant princess-napping is a carbon copy of Bowser’s.

- Sonic Boom’s design is the best-looking one, being a great balance of realistic and cartoony in a way that hearkens back to the character’s roots as a Theodore Roosevelt caricature, and with an outfit that screams “scientist”. With that said, the incredibly bumbling character it’s attached to only really works within Sonic Boom’s super light-hearted and comedic setting.

- Archie Comics’ version of Robotnik, in all three of his incarnations (Robotnik Prime, Robo-Robotnik, and post-SGW!Robotnik), is not only hands down the best comic book version of the character but is a strong contender for the definitive incarnation of the character, in the same vein many villains from the Pokemon game series have their definitive incarnations in the Pokemon Adventures manga. He’s simply everything one could want in an Eggman.

- When it comes to the three purely Western Sonic cartoon shows made in the 90s, Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog had the best Robotnik, Sonic Underground had the worst, and Sonic SatAM’s was squarely in the middle, having a fair amount of pros and cons.

- With that said, if I really was pushed to say whether I have an overall positive or negative outlook on SatAM’s Robotnik....I would have to say negative. He was little more than a standard 90s cartoon baddie overall (AoStH’s Robotnik ironically felt more like a 80s cartoon baddie which honestly suits the character better), but in the first season he was at least a good standard 90s cartoon baddie. Season 2 ripped away his mystique and credibility, and after sabotaging his own master plan he went out like a punk bitch in order to prop up other villains who went nowhere because the show got cancelled. And it’s really hard to watch him without thinking about the identical-looking Archie version and just how much better he is.

- I don’t hate the Sonic X and IDW Comics versions of Eggman. I’m just very disappointed in them. They both had promising starts, but then devolved into the misconception of Eggman as a “Harmless Villain”, which is antithetical to the Sonic franchise’s very conception.

- The trend of “Eggman gets upstaged by some bigger, more powerful adversary” that started when the games transitioned to 3D isn’t inherently bad. It was done well in the Adventure games and Unleashed, the basic idea of how to do it in Lost World and Forces which both end with Eggman as the final boss anyway was good even if the execution was shaky, and the subversion in Generations was excellent. It’s all a matter of the character maintaining his dignity and relevancy. If those just disappear once he’s upstaged, then it’s bad writing. 

- Sonic CD (US) and Sonic 3 & Knuckles have the best boss themes for Robotnik/Eggman. They perfectly encapsulate his evil and threatening yet weird and whimsical nature.

- Robotnik/Eggman has never had a bad voice actor. And yes, I am including Garry Chalk here - he was misdirected (or more accurately, the version of Robotnik he was voicing was misdirected) but he’s a talented guy who clearly has what it takes to do a great Robotnik voice judging by some of his other roles, and it’s a shame that he never had the chance.

- Jim Carrey was the most goddamn perfect choice to play Robotnik in live action and his version of the character is one of my favorites, not to mention my absolute favorite out of all the roles Carrey has ever played. He’s just so much fun to watch and I love to hate him.

[ellie-s-list]

Dedicated Hearts

Chapter One

A Levi Ackerman x OC story

WARNING: Contains spoilers from the OVA, A Choice With No Regrets

Sitting on their knees before her, Sadie looked the three criminals up and down, going down the row. They weren’t dirty, roughed up. They actually looked less like how you would think a criminal of the Underground would look. Despite their appearances, they can fight, and they have committed crimes. Going from her left to right, Sadie assessed the criminals.

The first one was a dark-haired man, he seemed to be the leader. He was strong-willed and proved to be difficult to take down, Erwin needed Sadie’s assistance so he wouldn’t get his throat slit. He was capable and formidable.

Next was a young redhead. She had two pigtails, and a defiant look in her green eyes. She was spunky but new to the whole “fighting” scene it seemed. Alaina, the soldier who took her down, seemed to be unharmed, not even a scratch on her face.

Lastly, was a young blond-haired man. He had ice-cold eyes, yet knew when to choose his fights. Sadie could recall him telling the girl, Isabel, to save her energy. He could be an advisor to the other man, helping to guide their actions through logic. It was interesting, and a little scary, since Sadie realized that the way the group acted was paralleled to the way she ran her squad.

The criminals were stripped of their maneuver gear, Erwin taking a set and standing in front of the three. Sadie took her position behind the redhead, keeping an eye on them.

“I have some questions to ask of you three,” Erwin held up the set of gear, “Where did you get your hands on this?” He also looked virtually unharmed, but when Sadie came upon the scene, she knew he was fighting with all he had.

Neither of the three answered, all defiant to the Squad Leader’s question. If it were Sadie in the situation, she would most likely do the same.

“Your technique was excellent, who taught you?” Erwin continued pressing, not showing his annoyance with their defiance. Yet again, though, they did not respond. Erwin walked over to the dark-haired man with an undercut, “You’re the leader, right? Have you received military training?” Again, the dark-haired man kept this mouth sealed.

Erwin, assessing his age, looked up to Sadie, “He looks close to your age, did you see him where you were stationed for training?”

Sadie shook her head, “Even if he wasn’t at my post, with the way he moved there would have been word through the teachers.”

Erwin hummed, looking back at the man. He chuckled, “That’s the face of a man who wants to kill me and escape.”

Sadie smirked, she has felt the same way for Erwin before. But it was usually because he stole the last bottle of wine. Not really the escape part though, but same feeling.

“I’d like to avoid any rough treatment if I can,” Erwin said, he put the gear down by a nearby building, he then turned back to the group. He side-eyed Miche, nodding.

Side-stepping, though she knew she wasn’t in the way, Sadie watched as Miche surged forward. He grabbed the hair of the man, pulling it back and then he plunged his face forward and into a puddle.

“I’ll ask again,” Erwin said, his tone lowering. “Where did you learn vertical maneuvering?”

“We didn’t learn it from anyone!” A voice yelled, making Sadie flinched. She looked down and saw the young girl was the culprit. “You think we’re gonna let a civil servant push us around?”

The blond also spoke, “We figured it out so we could survive in this dump.” He then scoffed, “Anyone who doesn't know what sewage tastes like couldn’t understand.”

Sadie blinked, exchanging a look with Erwin. The two followers seemed to look up to their leader with pride, maybe even love. Yet, their leader was still defiant. Maybe if they hurt one of the followers he would speak.

Erwin decided to relent, “My name is Erwin Smith, what are your names?”

They still didn’t speak, and the three Survey Corps members were getting impatient. Miche pushed the man’s head in again, then roughly pulled his head up to look at Erwin.

The Squad Leader tilted his head, “I applaud your determination, though if you keep it up then we’ll have to move on to your comrades.” He made it a point to look at Sadie, the woman moving forward right behind the young girl. Alaina also came forward, and in succession, the two pulled out one of their blades and placed it by their necks. Their other hand was in each of the criminal’s hair, keeping their head still.

“If you’re gonna do it, do it!” The red head shouted, though not moving against Sadie’s blade. “You’re all bastards!”

Sadie tilted her head in consideration, “I try to be.” She muttered.

Erwin gave the other blonde a look, as if sending her the word ‘really?’ Sadie grinned, winking.

Shaking his head, Erwin asked again, now pointed towards the leader, “What is your name?”

It only took a few seconds, but they dragged on as if they were ages. That is when the man spoke, his voice raspy, “It’s Levi.”

Erwin took a step forward, “Levi.” He knelt, “Would you make a deal with me?”

Levi’s eyes widened, Sadie noticing ,/ the flecks of blue in his dark iris’s. He was honestly a beautiful man, even with the sewage water dripping down his cheeks.

“A deal?”

“I won’t ask about your crimes,” Erwin stated. “In return, you will lend me your strength, and join the Survey Corps.”

“If I refuse?”

Erwin stood up, sighing, “I turn you over to the military police. Considering your crimes, I don’t think you or your comrades can expect decent treatment.” Erwin motioned with his hand over to Alaina and Sadie, the two pressing the blades delicately to their criminals’ necks. “Choose whichever path you wish.”

Levi grit his teeth, looking to his comrades. He then looked up to Erwin, venom in his tone as he spoke, “Very well. I’ll join the Survey Corps.”

To say the least, Sadie felt awkward as the criminals were let to stand. Sadie and Alaina sheathed their blades, and Erwin instructed Miche and Matthew to carry the discarded gear.

“What’s going to happen to the ODM gear they have?” Alaina asked Erwin, the man turning to the brunette.

“We’re going to keep it for testing,” He said simply, quickly ending the conversation.

Sadie rolled her eyes, “Now that you successfully took over my day off, that I put in for three months ago, what are we going to do?”

Erwin fought back a grin, the corners of his lips peaking a little, “I guess you’re free for the rest of the day, right?”

Blinking, Sadie cracked her knuckles, “This would be the time I would start heading back to base.”

“So we head back to base.”

Biting her lip, Sadie glared at her fellow Squad Leader. She then held her hand out, “Can I have the keys to the cuffs? Or are we going to let them go when we get above ground?”

Erwin handed her the iron ring with the sets of keys, “We can uncuff them now, but first search them for weapons.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Sadie mocked a salute, turning to Miche, Alaina, and Matthew. “You heard your Squad Leader.”

Later, as the eight of them walked towards the southern entrance, Alaina skipped next to Sadie. The brunette seemed excited, her gait bouncy as she slowed to a walk.

“Sadie, I never knew how good you were at darts!”

Narrowing her eyebrows, Sadie looked down to Alaina, “What?”

“Last night, you were winning every match at the bar.” That statement seemed to pique the interest of Levi. The dark-haired man didn’t put up any resistance, true to his word of compliance.

Putting a hand on her chin as she walked, Sadie tried to think back to the night before. She remembered finishing her paper work, and also her last glass of wine.

“Was I already drunk when I entered the bar?”

Erwin looked back at the that question, now also intrigued.

Alaina rubbed the back of her head, looking away from the young Squad Leader.

“Yeah, actually. You were talking about how you couldn’t drink anymore wine, and then…” She trailed off, gazing towards Erwin.

“And then what?” Erwin asked, smirking towards Sadie.

“You called Erwin a bitch.”

Sadie couldn’t help but laugh at Erwin’s following expression. He quickly slated it to emotionless, but the quick allowance of surprise was enough for Sadie. Erwin looked forward, continuing on as if he didn’t hear anything.

“Seems like something I would do, even if I was drunk,” Sadie hummed. She then looked to Levi, who was still gazing at them. Their eyes met and he quickly looked away, staring at the back of Erwin’s head.

“Yeah, you went on about how he took the last bottle of available wine, so now you had to search for more when you came to town. Then a few guys suggested you played darts with them, and then I guess you made a deal with them,” Alaina explained, her eyes getting big as she continued. “You won of course, but I don’t really know what the deal was and I wanted to see if you could tell me?”

Biting her lip in thought, Sadie crossed her arms. She honestly didn’t remember much of the night before, but it would also be like her to accept any deal.

“It was probably something to benefit me… Who were the two I made a deal with?”

Alaina looked up, thinking, “I think it was Theo and Zach.”

Grunting, Sadie shook her head, “It was definitely something bad then. I hate those two.”

“They do make me uncomfortable.”

“Exactly, bitches get what they earn.”

Alaina tilted her head, “So what did they earn?”

“I think I get to beat them up, honestly I’ll do it anyway even if that wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Even drunk you get even?” Matthew piped up, laughing gently.

Sadie nodded, “I serve justice in any form, Matthew.” She then smirked, “Even when I’m dead, I’ll give you hell from the grave.”

Posted 6/27/21, Story by @bakugosbreathmint

do not repost my content, reblogs are fine

[idkxwriting]

Treacherous - Chapter 15

Author: idkhaylijah

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Sorry I couldn’t post earlier this week! Here’s a chapter for you :) I hope you enjoy. I think there’s only one left after this... If you’d like to be alerted anytime I post a new chapter/new work, follow @idkhaylijahwrites​ and turn on post notifications :) Thank you for reading, and giving me feedback, it means a lot! <3

Chapter 14  -  Masterlist

Damon hit reject on his phone again, turning it off and shoving it into his back pocket.

“Stefan again?” Y/N asked.

He grunted, pulling the grate off the wall in the walk-in freezer, and urging her to get in. “Yep. They’re onto us, so we’ve gotta keep moving,” he said. They had been holed up at the Grill. Two demons, a witch, and a vampire later, they were already exhausted. It seemed Empusa was just as ready as they were, her supernatural army thirsting for revenge and all too eager to find Y/N.

She climbed in the hole into the underground tunnel system, Damon dropping in behind her. “Which way?”

He tilted his head in the direction of their route, the only way to get through town without being seen - their best chance at catching Empusa by surprise. Damon had tortured the vampire that had attacked them at the Grill for information about where to find her before ending his life, and they were on their way to the graveyard.

“Why does it always have to be the graveyard?” He had complained.

“It has to be the graveyard,” she had said, inexplicably knowing it’s where it would all end.

They moved through the tunnels mostly in silence, Damon leading the way.

“Do you ever think about dying?” Y/N asked after a while.

Damon shrugged. “It’s not really on my to do list…”

“Yea, but even you aren’t entirely invincible. Don’t you ever wonder what happens to us after we die?”

“No,” he stated matter-of-factly. “No, I don’t.”

She continued to follow Damon in silence, and when they reached their destination, Damon turned to her. They stood in an old crypt, and even in the darkness she could see the dust and decay that littered it. She was beginning to breathe heavily, and he took her hands in her face. “Hey,” he reassured her. “I don’t know what happens next,” he paused. “But I believe no matter what comes after all of this, we’re all okay in the end.”

She nodded, trying to convince herself that he was right. “We’re all okay,” she repeated.

He pulled her wrist up, glancing at the leather bracelet. “Y/N, if you need me to, I can compel you...take it away so you don’t have to be afraid.”

She shook her head adamantly, stepping back from him. “I can do this, Damon.” She closed her eyes, picturing everyone she cared about. The people she had loved, the ones she was lucky enough to know.

She thought of Elijah, and Dean, and how some people go their entire lives without ever falling in love.

She could do this. She woulddo this. For all of them.

She gripped the knife that sat at her hip, hooked in her belt, and took a deep breath. “It’s now or never,” she said with determination. “Let’s go.”

Damon’s eyes held a sadness in them, but she also recognized respect. He could be an ass, and he was often selfish, but she knew deep down, if their roles were reversed, he’d face his fate.

“Okay,” he said, pushing the heavy stone of the crypt aside so they could exit the tunnels.

*****

It didn’t take long for the Winchester’s to piece together that Y/N was at the cemetery, and judging by the trail of bodies and the silence throughout town, whatever Empusa had planned had already started.

The rain picked up in intensity as Dean drove, his rage warring with his worry. Sam had tried to reassure him a few times on the ride over, but quickly gave up when he was met with a short and clipped tone, if he bothered to answer at all.

Stefan’s phone buzzed and he glanced at the caller ID. Alaric.

“What did you find?” Stefan asked urgently.

Dean watched his face in the mirror with worried curiosity.

“What do you mean?” Stefan asked, sitting up with alarm. “Alaric, if she does that…”

The muffled voice continued.

After a few more moments, Stefan ended the call and sighed. “A little digging and it turns out we were right, Empusa needed Y/N in Mystic Falls after all. Her vessel is falling apart, she needs a new body.”

“Y/N…” Sam said.

Stefan nodded grimly.

“Alright, so let’s go gank this bitch, first.” Dean’s eyes flicked to Stefan in the mirror again when he was met with silence. He turned to Sam, his brows knitted together. “What?”

But he already knew. He had known the second he saw Elijah, cold and daggered. There’d only be one reason she would have betrayed Elijah like that - only one reason she would have left without filling Dean in on the plan, because she knew whatever she had come up with, he and Elijah would have been the ones to stand in her way.

She had no intentions on surviving.

It was why she had told him she loved him. Why every piece of him screamed that she had been telling him goodbye back at the house.

Stefan cleared his throat uncomfortably. “There’s only one way to kill her…”

“The knife…” Dean said hopefully.

Stefan nodded, but his face fell. “The knife needs to be used on Y/N.”

Dean’s knuckles tightened around the steering wheel, the pain in his chest sharp.

“But if all she needed was the knife, what’s stopping her from doing it now? She’s had the knife for days…” Sam trailed off.

Stefan sighed. “It’s not just the knife. They need a celestial event…”

Dean gripped his chest as the discomfort continued to grow. “So what, she’s waiting for a full moon or something?”

Sam shook his head. “Or something just as powerful that the magic can be pulled from. That’s why Empusa is waiting at the graveyard. Mystic Falls is full of ley lines, it’s why it’s basically a magnet for the supernatural. And they all converge…”

“Let me guess,” Dean interrupted. “At the graveyard?” He coughed, the pain growing sharper, and quickly. One hand gripped his chest, and he knew it wasn’t just heartache anymore.

“Exactly,” Stefan said, leaning forward with concern as Dean’s coughing worsened.

“Dean?” Sam turned, his eyes questioning.

He slammed on the brakes, swerving the car off the road before throwing it into park. His hand flew to the door handle and he swung the door open, doubling over out the side of the car as the coughing became overwhelming, blood spattering the pavement beneath him.

“Dean!” Sam was up and out of the car, but Stefan beat him to it.

As he coughed, he felt the thick blood in his throat blocking his airways, and he dropped on all fours. Stefan pulled him up, trying to support him, but he shook his head, his words of warning trapped in his chest.

Sam’s eyes went wide and realization dawned on him. “He’s been hexed,” he explained. “Help me find the bag!” He began tearing through the car, searching for the small hex bag that he knew had to be there.

Dean gasped for air, feeling as though his lungs were being torn to shreds inside of his chest.

“Check the wheels,” Sam shouted, and Stefan searched frantically.

“Got it!” Stefan exclaimed, finally finding it wedged near the gas pedal. He tossed the bag to Sam, who already had a lighter ready. They burned the bag, and in it’s ashes Dean felt relief.

He coughed some more, spitting the blood from his mouth, the coppery taste still on his tongue. Stefan backed away, letting his brother help him up as he regained control of his thirst.

“Witches,” Dean groaned. “I fucking hate witches…”

“You okay?” Sam asked, getting him back on his feet.

Dean nodded and waved him off. “Let’s go,” he mumbled, already exhausted.

“Why don’t you take a minute,” Stefan suggested.

Dean ignored him, dipping to get back in the car.

“Dean, he’s right…”

Dean stopped his movements, slamming the car door in frustration. “Because we don’t have the luxury of taking a minute!” He bellowed. “Now get in the damn car!”

Sam shot Stefan an apologetic glance, who nodded, knowing there’d be no changing the hunter’s mind. They got back in the car silently, Dean’s rage hanging heavy over them.

*****

When they arrived at the graveyard, they parked, all of them out of the car before Baby’s engine had fully quieted down. Thunder crackled and the wind whipped through the trees, an unsettling feeling in the air.

There were signs of a fight, branches broken, a bloody stake. Stefan knelt over the body of a newbie vampire, and grimaced.

“Staked?” Sam asked.

Stefan shook his head grimly. He turned the body over, and the Winchester’s saw he had been drained of blood. “Empusa’s feeding on her own army,” he explained.

“She needs power,” Sam muttered.

Dean sighed, exasperated. “Well this is just great. Where the hell is Y/N?”

Stefan held his hand up, quieting Dean as he listened. “She’s close…”

“You can hear her?”

While he could hear a fight in the distance, but it wasn’t what had alerted him to Y/N’s presence. Stefan’s eyes darkened and his face fell. “I can smell her.”

Dean didn’t wait as he moved further into the woods with urgency, following the trail of bodies left behind.

They heard the fight before they saw it, and when Dean finally caught a glimpse of Y/N, he sprung into action. He tore through the demons and vampires that had been closing in on Y/N and Damon in the distance. He killed without question, his body moving on muscle memory, his only goal to get to her.

“Y/N!” He roared, his angel blade slamming into another chest with all his force.

But the storm drowned out his voice, and her focus remained on the vampire in front of her. She hunted with skill, but even across the way he could tell fatigue was setting in. Her movements were less graceful, and her breath came in heavy pants. Her limbs looked heavy as she swung, using her body to force a stake into a vampire’s heart.

Dean sidestepped another monster, vaulting himself over the stone markers of the grave in front of him and sprinting towards her, reaching her just in time as a demon flashed it’s black eyes and grabbed her from behind, putting her in a chokehold.

She struggled, throwing her weight against him, and just as she looked like she couldn’t fight much more, Dean ripped the demon off her back, stabbing him without mercy.

She turned, gasping for breath. Her eyes were tired, her hair messy and matted with sweat and rain. Her shoulder hung low, and he knew from the dark stain on her shirt that her wound from the other night had opened again. Her forehead was caked in blood and mud, her lip bruised, but through all of that she smiled at him.

It hit him with such force, he felt his heart stop.

When it beat again, it pushed through all the frustration and anger he had felt at her being there at all.

“Thanks.” She pushed the hair out of her face, her sleeves muddied. “What are you doing here?” She asked as she caught her breath.

He turned so they stood back to back, but it seemed the fight was already dying down, the thunder with it, while Sam and Stefan cleaned up the few stragglers. “What am I doing here?” He growled and rounded on her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Damon stepped between them. “I had it handled.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed as he took in the oldest Salvatore. “Had it handled?” He shouted. “You have her out here on a damn suicide mission!” Dean shoved his chest. “I should kill you,” he gritted through his teeth.

Damon gripped his neck and squeezed, an angry scowl on his face.

“Dean!” Sam shouted, rushing towards his brother.

Stefan approached cautiously, his eyes fixed on Damon.

“Damon let him go!” Y/N pulled on his arm, but his grip didn’t waiver.

His ice blue eyes remained fixed on Dean, and he tilted his head. “I would love to see you try,” he grinned, pushing the Winchester aside.

Dean gripped the angel blade. He had never staked a vampire with one, and he wasn’t sure if it would work on Damon, but he was beginning to think he might be willing to risk it. He shoved at Damon, opening his mouth with a retort when a familiar and refined accent cut through the arguing.

“Always bickering like children…”

They turned to see Elijah walking towards them, his hand in his pockets as if unbothered by the entire scene.

Y/N gripped the blade, her temper rising at the imposter before her. “Show yourself!” She screamed, furious that Empusa would dare to show herself as Elijah.

The figure before her only smirked. “Why? You have the blade, just end it…”

She white knuckled the hilt, all of her exhaustion leaving as a new wave of adrenaline rushed through her bloodstream.

“Or perhaps you can’t,” the monster tilted it’s head, Elijah’s eyes staring at her with pity. “See that’s the problem with you humans, always letting your emotions control you. You know I’m not him, and yet you hesitate.” Empusa turned her attention toward Dean. “I wonder if she’d have the same hesitation if I took your form.” A cold laugh escaped her hips. “Perhaps we should let her choose which one she’d prefer bloody and broken…”

A cloud of dark smoke rose up, until Elijah was gone and a clone of Dean stood before them, angry and ready for a fight.

Y/N grit her teeth, but before she could move Stefan rushed forward, Damon quickly behind. They charged Empusa, and Dean gripped her arm, holding her in place. He reached under her jacket, knowing it was where she had stashed the blade and pulling it from her belt before she could react, charging at Empusa.

He didn’t know if it would kill her, but he knew he couldn’t let Y/N die, so he had to try. Empusa was fast, snapping Stefan’s neck and disarming Dean with little effort. She flung Damon aside with the flick of her wrist. She turned the blade, aiming at the hunter, but Damon was back on his feet, stepping into it so the blade ran through his own chest instead.

Y/N lunged forward, her rage driving her as she watched Damon drop, sputtering blood. Empusa kicked Y/N to the ground, her head hitting with a thud. Sam was already on the move, helping his brother up. Dean lunged once more, the angel blade slamming into her shoulder

Empusa laughed and pulled the angel blade from her shoulder, the wound disappearing before their eyes. She snapped the blade and dropped it to the ground, rounding on Dean. She gripped him by the chin, a mirror image of him staring back at him, and lifted up. “You can’t save her, Dean,” his own voice spoke. “No one can.”

She tossed Dean aside like he was nothing, moving with lightning speed to grab Y/N, her arm wrapping around her neck painfully.

While she had had Dean, Sam moved towards Damon, ripping the blade from his chest with force, knowing the vampire would eventually recover. He gripped the blade, turning his attention back to Empusa. “You won’t kill her,” Sam moved toward her slowly, trying to keep Empusa talking as his brother got back up. “You would have done that already…”

Empusa’s eyes narrowed mischievously. Teeth bared, she placed her fangs along Y/N’s neck, daring Sam to continue.

“You harm one hair on her head and I swear I will tear you apart,” Dean yelled.

Empusa’s hand shot out and Dean’s neck strained as he was lifted in the air by an invisible force, his breath coming in short gasps under the pressure.

“No!” Y/N shouted, but the grip on her neck tightened, choking out her protest.

Dean slid forward until Empusa could grip his chin. “I’d like to see you try.”

Y/N struggled in her grasp, aware that the body pressed against her was in the shape of Dean, but all wrong. She reached for the small knife she kept tucked under her jacket, knowing she only had one shot. But as she moved Empusa threw Dean, knocking him against a gravestone before gripping Y/N's wrist, forcing her to let the knife drop to the ground.

She tightened the hold she had on Y/N even harder, her fingers digging into the knife wound at her shoulder, tearing open the few remaining stitches and causing her to cry out. She turned her attention to Sam and smiled. Her shape shifted until she was no longer in the form of Dean. “Give me the knife, Sammy.”

Sam's stance faltered as he stepped backwards in shock at the familiar voice. He had known it was Empusa, but still, the likeness to John Winchester standing before him was uncanny. He swallowed nervously, trying to gain control of his emotions.

“Give us Y/N and we’ll give you the blade,” Dean bargained, standing slowly with a heaviness in his limbs.

“Now that just defeats the purpose…”

“How so?” Sam asked.

“Oh come on, son,” she continued to impersonate John. “That big college brain of yours couldn’t figure it out? She’s the soul stone. If I use the blade, I get a new body.”

“And you need a new body…” Sam said, trying to keep her talking until they could come up with a plan. “You can’t survive without her.”

“That’s why I had all those visions of me as a ripper,” Y/N choked. “It wasn’t me, it was you the whole time…” Her heart ached at the love she had let go because she thought her fate would have her turned into a ripper. She grew angry as she realized it wasn't her own life she was seeing, but what would be if Empusa would win.

“You have no idea, sweetheart,” Empusa laughed.

Y/N’s hands pulled at the hold trying to breathe. “Go to hell,” she growled.

“I’ve done that a few times now,” Her attention turned towards Sam, the vision of John still unnerving him. “Sammy, give me the blade. That’s an order.”

“You sick son of a bitch,” Dean gripped his ribs with one arm, his free hand pulling his gun, aiming it right between Empusa’s eyes. Between John’s eyes.

“Come on, Dean. You wouldn’t shoot your old man now, would ya?”

Sam gave Dean a knowing look and began to spread out, creating a wide berth around her, Sam readying himself to attack.

Dean saw Damon stand once more and Stefan begin to stir out of the corner of his eye, but remained focused on Empusa. He cocked the gun. “You don’t know me that well…”

Sam nodded, and Damon rushed towards Y/N as Sam tossed the blade toward him. At the same moment, Dean’s finger pulled the trigger when suddenly everything stopped. Damon and the Winchester's were unable to move and the bullet dropped to the ground.

“What the hell?” Dean grimaced, trying to move, but his body was stuck.

Sam struggled in his own place, unable to move.

They both heard a snap, and turned to see Damon's neck broken and his body drop, revealing Crowley standing above him. He kicked the blade towards Y/N. “Now!” He shouted.

Y/N dropped her head and used all her strength to slam it back into Empusa. She loosened her grip just enough for Y/N to lunge forward and reach for the blade. Empusa growled, turning and dragging Y/N with her by the hair, forcing her to scramble to move with her. As they moved she shifted back into her own true form, a hideous thing. Her skin was sickly grey, her nails long and stained. Her hair was dark and straggly, matted down in grease, and her eyes lifeless and cold. Her teeth were shaved down into sharp points, jutting in several directions.

She screamed in frustration, loud and painfully shrill, adjusting her grip so she was holding onto Y/N’s arm, her free hand waving toward Crowley. He flung backwards, an invisible force shoving him aside as though he were nothing.

“Crowley, let me go or I swear I’ll gank your demon ass myself!” Dean roared, pushing all his weight forward with no success.

Crowley gripped onto a headstone, pulling himself up.

“You son of a bitch!” Dean screamed.

The demon shook his head, his eyes telling Dean it wasn’t him that had frozen them - it wasn’t him holding them back.

“Dean,” Sam’s voice sounded defeated, and Dean turned to see Cas, a look of regret in his eyes.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice gave away the betrayal he felt, and Cas gave him an apologetic look before turning back to Y/N with determination.

He glanced at her and nodded. Dean followed Cas’ gaze to her, wondering what on earth was going on.

Empusa faced them once more, and laughed maniacally, her hand gripping Y/N’s neck and her nails digging in as she pulled her so her back was to her chest.

Y/N winced, but she kept her eyes trained on Dean. She wasn’t afraid, but she looked sad, like she was sorry. She mouthed as much to Dean, as she carefully raised the blade.

“No!” Dean pushed with all his strength, but still he was immobile, the scene playing out before him in slow motion as he was unable to stop it.

A tear rolled down Y/N’s cheek, and she nodded at him, as if saying it was all okay.

He continued to fight, desperate to get to her, furious as his own body betrayed him.

Her eyes never left his as she shoved the blade into her body, and through her own heart.

Empusa let out a blood curdling scream, her face twisting and she stumbled forward.

Dean screamed, hating that he couldn’t get to Y/N. Hating the way her eyes remained on him, calm and sure even as the blade pierced through her skin, tearing through her muscle and stabbing through her heart. He hated the way her lips turned up in a broken smile, her mouth filling with blood as her eyes glistened, the fight finally over as Empusa’s body turned to ash, the blade dissipating with it.

Cas released them and when Dean could move once more he lurched forward, losing his balance as he tried to keep up with his own efforts. He found his footing once more and rushed to her, catching her as her knees dropped the ground. Her body sagged into him, and he struggled to keep her held up, one hand banded around her back, the other pulling her face to look at him, only she didn’t respond. “Y/N! Y/N, stay with me!”

His voice was hoarse and he glanced around for help. “Cas! Do something!” He shouted angrily. He turned to Y/N again, pulling her in, his hand gripping her shirt at the shoulder, bunching the fabric in his fist. He pressed his lips to her hair, and he sat back on his heels, rocking her into him, knowing she was already gone.

The world around him went silent. He sensed the others surrounding him, but didn’t, or couldn’t, acknowledge their presence. He registered his brother’s hand on his shoulder, but felt no warmth or comfort.

He was empty.

As empty as the shell of a body that rested in his arms. Y/N was dead, and for the first time in a long time, he wished he was too.

[dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt]

This is Sterling and Winn and they’re bastards and they’re here now I guess. They have nothing to do with my other OCs, I just think they’re neat. :)

Winn (Gaspar) is a severely antisocial necromancer who uses his late father’s medicinal knowledge for evil, brewing poisons as a hobby. He has multiple blades concealed on his body at all times (including his earrings, that are filed to sharp points) that are lightly seasoned with that poison. He used to kill people to make business more lucrative, but he didn’t have the balls to continue, afraid he would be caught. He suffers from extreme paranoia that leads to massive trust issues and the occasional hallucination. He has trichotillomania.

(Ivor) Sterling is a hitman gone rogue. He used to collect debts for the gambling den he worked at, but he got a bit too much of a taste for blood. He’s utterly ruthless and takes great pleasure in brutal acts of violence and the pain of others, but he’s not as unstable as you’d think. An old habit died hard, and his victims are typically the patriarches of rich families who get a bit too comfortable. He murders them with whatever he has avalible to him in the envenviroment he’s in, or his own fists and brass knuckles if there’s nothing else.

How did they meet?? idk steampunk Grindr?? The upshot is that they now work together, as much as they dislike and don’t trust one another. The only thing that keeps them from each others’ throats... too much... is that they have a professional understanding of the perks of their partnership. Aka., they can get rich exploiting the grieving families of Sterling’s victims. Sterling murders them and leaves the corpses for their family to discover, and since Winn is an underground but brilliant necromancer, most turn to him to give them closure and last words with their loved ones.

What Winn fails to inform anyone of is how the victims’ souls react when transported back into their lethally damaged bodies. They feel everything that killed them, and they can’t find relief until Winn releases them back to death. Too bad if you brought your kids, lady, they get to see daddy’s half-rotted beaten-to-a-pulp living corpse writhing and screaming in sheer animal agony and begging for death. Winn feels absolutely no empathy for them, even enjoys pulling the rug out from under them and seeing the shock and horror and nausea on their faces as they watch their loved one in that state. He makes sure they pay the significant amount of money beforehand, obviously, and uses the loophole of “you didn’t ask” if they ask for their money back. Of course, this spreads rumours about his practice, but threats of further death in the family from Winn and general grieving desperation are good allies to their growing business and wealth.

They currently live together on-and-off, since Sterling uses Winn’s warehouse home as a safe house when he needs somewhere to lay low - pretty much only to annoy prickly bitch Winn. They are constantly on-guard around each other, but also trust each other more than they trust anyone else. They take joy out of hurting each other, from petty to more servere ways. They know one could kill the other very, very easily, and they both enjoy this information.

They’re also fucking. In the most violent hateful way possible. Because of course they are.

[indurarinks]

stygian dagger

a sneak peek Like clamouring thunder intimidating a planet during a hot summer day, a small group of highly trained Tavali, the renowned pirates and travellers of the Universe, quickly dissolved themselves in the crowd as if each individual had always belonged to the scene. Bursting at the seams, the makeshift arena placated the savage desires of the rowdy public through violent, gruesome fighting. Their bellows demanded blood and guts from the unwilling practitioners of cage fighting, sold to this business for the purpose of serving the sick pleasures of the rich. Filling the pockets of greedy masters with abusive hands. Though illegal, the fights were wildly known throughout the Nine Worlds, beckoning hefty wallets with the promise of a night of indulgence. The three Tavali, fearless and unrelenting and heavily armed, approached the round stage, a fenced cage that had been electrified to discourage any contestant from trying an escape. Ushara, Davel and Trajen slowly descended the rows of stairs with a single purpose in mind. Rescuing Jullien eton Anatole. The bastard of the Ichidian Universe. “How do you want to do this?” Davel, Ushara’s older brother turned to her. Ushara Altaan, Vice Admiral for the Gorturnum nation (one of the four nations of Tavali) and the bastard’s best friend, thirsted for vengeance the moment she learned of Jules captivity. But despite the spiralling emotions, she led the rescue operation with military expertise. The Fyreblood in her was built for war, after all. Her breed of Andarions possessed the talent of pyrokinetics with their fiery breath that put them at great advantage in battle. “We have to find where they’re keeping the fighters. We grab Jules and get the hell out of here before I burn this shithole to the ground and cause Trajen here even more trouble.” The glance she threw at her boss and friend catapulted them both to a few months prior when she flew without proper papers and authorisation into Steradore to rescue her son and executed ruthlessly her son’s kidnappers. That was also when Jules crashed into her life. “Let’s start by looking for cells underground. I bet my money that’s where we will find him.” Trajen added quickly, the air of ancient wisdom surrounding him like royal robes as his eyes held a faraway look. Returning to the task at hand, the group proceeded through the darkened corridors, merging into the shadows like fading mist. Away from the main event and prying eyes, the three of them advanced into the house of horrors’ lowest pits where its security relied mostly on a few guards, now lying unmoving after quickly being neutralised, and the highest technology one could acquire in the black market. The collective tension thickened the atmosphere with Trajen’s warning. “I don’t know how long I can keep the interfering with the system’s security.” Visibly concerned for her boss, Ushara, who marched at front, turned back and gave him a look that silently asked him if he was alright. Though his expression had now been contorted into one of extreme suffering, Trajen nodded with a dismissive shrug. “Let’s keep looking.” Expecting the alarms to go off any second, inevitable frustration was slowly mounting between them as their options to find him grew scarce with the nearing of the end of the row of cells. “Where is he? Titana ræl. He has to be here somewhere.” Trajen’s curse surprised the others. Their Admiral was nothing but an infinite well of wise ponderation and heedful shrewdness. But this restless, almost sloppy version of him gave the others a marginal idea of the potency of the bond he shared with Jules. And where his loyalties lied. His purpose was clear. Despite Trajen’s many efforts to remain isolated from those under his protection, Jullien eton Anatole quickly wormed his way into their secluded leader’s heart with his wits and scars. In him, he found a brother, a kindred spirit. Both, a product of the brutality of their pasts. Drenched in darkness, Ushara refused to let old fears roar back to life as she searched each cell thoroughly. Those demons poked their incessant torment on her mind but she wouldn’t give way. No way in Tophet. “Jules! Jules! Dammit, dark heart. Where are you?” Her desperate bellow echoed through the hall. “Ah, shit.” Followed by a string of mouthful expletives, Davel run both hands through his tousled hair in evident denial. “What have they done to you, drey?” Terrified by her brother’s words alone, Ushara moved slowly toward Davel. Suddenly her legs weighed a ton, and all her instincts screamed at her. She wasn’t ready for what she was about to see. Her gasp of horror came without warning. Lying on the filthy floor of the smallest cubicle of that hellhole, he was in fetal position, back curved and head bowed to make himself smaller. His eyes resolutely shut, Jullien remained eerily motionless. Almost as if… “Jules..?” Low and soothing, her voice wrapped itself around him. “Please.” She begged. No reaction still. Lost to her panic and petrified by the shock of her best friend’s predicament, Ushara’s angry tears fell like an unexpected hurricane. This entire nightmare began when one of her cousins and his crew sold him as punishment for something he played no role at. Hate is an ugly creature whose talons infect the soul upon their impaling. And there is no recognition between right or wrong. There is just the ugly need for vengeance, the hunt for a twisted form of justice that’s justifiable through past suffering and grievances. Davel’s strained grunts catapulted her back into reality. For the time being and Jules’ sake, she vowed to abandon her thirst for retribution against those who sought to harm her best friend. Both her brother and Trajen joined their efforts to break him out. Between mighty brawn and refined brain, the electrified door of his dungeon held no chance against them. At the first opportunity, Ushara crawled toward the entrance on hands and knees. She outstretched her hand toward Jules. “Jules?” She tried once again. Only then did he shift his position, daring a tentative look at her as if afraid she might be only a mirage. “It’s me. Shara.” Her body ached from the awkward angle of it. “Come on, let’s go home.” When a single tear rolled down his face, her entire world shattered along with her heart. The agony and misery reflected upon those beautifully hybrid eyes, a mix of human and Andarion, clutched her insides before twisting them until she felt what she could describe as a poor replica of the same pain. Yet bravely, he offered her his bloodied fingers, silently accepting her strength to escape this house of horrors. As he dragged himself along the ground, Ushara confirmed all her fears. After the years of unthinkable abuse Jullien had fallen victim to, she feared he would resort to shutting everybody out to deal with yet another trial in his lonesome road of redemption, one he endured after she had promised him he was safe with the Tavali. She failed him. And she hated herself for that failure. Stoically, his face an unreadable mask of indifference, he stood awkwardly as Ushara embraced him in relief despite her reservations regarding his mental stability. “We better get going, guys.” Davel interrupted their reencounter with good motive. It wouldn’t be long until the alarms went off. “I sense trouble incoming, too.” Trajen added with a distant look. His impressive powers at work. As if on cue, the blaring sound of sirens threatened to awaken even the dead. “Let’s get out of here!” Ushara’s hand sought Jules’, tugging him behind her as the others hurried before them. Without uttering a word still, he followed after her. They were halfway down the hall when he broke contact with her fingers, turning toward a group of inmates, all female, as his fingers curled ferociously around the metal bars of the cell. His knuckles white, Jules tugged at the bars with a frightening growl. Eyes now full of untamed fury, he kept yanking and yanking. Unable to understand the source of Jullien’s outrage, Ushara spared a glance at her brother and Trajen before joining her best friend. He was clearly set on opening this specific cell. Mildly confused, she helped him by unleashing her fiery breath over the unyielding lock. It took some work as the ancient metal resisted more than first predicted but once it fell apart, he was quick to get pull the door open and venture into the room’s darkness. Tempted to go after him, she bit her lip. She shouldn’t. Right? Jules knew what he was doing. He had to. Right..? Praying for her friend’s mindfulness, she raked her fingers through her white hair while readying herself for the swarm of hostiles. “Shit.” Unholstering both blasters, Ushara aimed them ahead, patiently waiting to feed her need for violence. To sate her hunger to spill enemy blood. Surely enough, the first party showed up next. An eerie smile descended upon her lips. “Come get some, bitches.” She murmured dangerously, mostly to herself. Her blood singing in delirium for a chance of revenge. It was then Jules emerged from the shadows of the dungeon with a female stranger leaning heavily against him. Vulnerability surrounded this woman, obviously injured during her captivity. She was a vision, absolutely breathtaking. And totally human, it seemed. Golden skinned and green eyed, she beckoned every gaze in the room like a siren singing to her sailors. Finally, all hell broke loose. Ushara’s first two shots came as warning. After that, she was all business, no play. She went ahead of Jules and his companion, assuming her offensive stance before engaging in further confrontation. With envying expertise, she blocked every attack while ensuring their inevitable escape from this shithole by counter attacking tirelessly. She was an animal in the game of warfare. When every opponent lied lifelessly on the ground, Ushara released a breath of relief before holstering her blasters again. The barrels still singed her flesh if she were to touch them directly. Her babies were well used today. Collecting their breaths, the five of them exited the house of horrors without so much as a backward glance. Only Jullien hesitated briefly to bend his upper body forward so he could pick the woman up and carry her in his arms, regardless of her protests that claimed she could walk on her own. Once safely inside her ship, Ushara urged Davel to initiate the flight commands to get them all back home and far, far away from there. Trajen, the silent watcher, joined her while the both of them observed from afar the exchange between Jullien and the woman he refused to leave behind. “Is she trustworthy?” She whispered her concerns to her boss, hoping he could give her some sort of endorsement. Instead, he shrugged. “Time will tell.” Helpful. She grumbled quietly on her way to the pair. Despite Jules current inability to interact with the world outside of his well of misery, he still managed to put the human’s needs before his. A feat she probably can’t even begin to appreciate but Ushara’s version of a very malicious green monster was quickly suffocated by her immediate thought to not throw judgements before gathering proper insight. “Hi there. I’m Ushara.” The female warrior extended her hand toward the other female before pointing at Trajen. “That’s Trajen, and the mountain of a man at the front of the helm is my brother, Davel.” She finished with a sincere smile. “I—I’m Bonnie. Bonnie Bennett.” She cleared her throat to mitigate the hoarseness in her voice. “It’s nice to meet you all.” As she took Ushara’s hand in hers, she couldn’t help but noticing Jullien’s retreating form as he sought solitude to quiet his roaring demons.

[shytheguy]

Can you write a fic where either Eddie or Richie is trans and the other finds out? It might have some angst but my heart also needs fluff, and wouldn't mind some smut.

TRANS EDDIE TRANS EDDIE YES YES YES OKAY

Ahem- Yes, I will make a fic about this. Unfortunately, however, I cannot write smut for the life of me, so, here’s what I gots :))))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Eddieeee~! Eddie-Bear~! Eds, my love~!” Richie was teasing the small boy as the losers walked through the forest to their underground fort.

“Richie, I swear to fuck, I’m going to throw a rock at you.” Eddie grumbled.

“Wouldn’t be the first time a blunt object hit my ol’ noggin!” Richie retorted with a grin.

Stanley rolled his eyes from behind them. “That would explain a lot.” He grumbled.

“Hey!” Richie turned to him. “Might I remind you I get the best grades out of all of us??” He crossed his arms.

“Didn’t you also roll a plant, thinking it was a joint, smoked it, then got sick?” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Wha- I thought we agreed to forget that!” He whined. Eddie just shrugged and kept walking.

Eventually they made it to the clubhouse and Eddie went straight to the hammock, but Richie beat him too it.

“Hey, fuckface, I was going to it first.” He glared at him.

“Too bad, Eds, I beat ya too it, ya hear?” He said with one of his terrible accents.

“God- Shut the hell up!” He said, hopping in the hammock and the two fought for space.

“Ow- Eddie, Move it!” Richie tried to kick him away.

“No! I got here first!” He kicked right back.

“Ugh- Fuck face I can see your vagina!” He said, obviously joking, but this struck a nerve for Eddie. He huffed and got up.

“Fine! Keep the fucking hammock!” He turned and stomped out. Richie blinked and sat up. “Huh? What was that?”

“Oh my god, Richie, what did you do?” Stanley crossed his arms.

“Dude! All I said was ‘I can see your vagina!’ Can a man not joke anymore??!” He huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back. Stanley blinked and exchanged a glance with Bev, Them being the only two (Aside from Bowers’ gang, unfortunately, who over heard it in a convo and were using it as blackmail of some sort.) who knows Eddie’s secret.

“Er- Bev, maybe you should go talk to him.” Stan said, nodding his head to the entrance. Beverly nodded.

“Right.” She muttered and went out. “Eddie?” She looked around and saw him sitting under a tree. She sighed and went over, sitting next to him.

“Hey, Eddie, You know he was only joking-”

“I fucking know, Bev.” He grumbled. “But it’s hard being on the receiving end. Especially when it’s him.” He looked down.

She frowned and she pat his back. “Yeah, Yeah I get it.” She muttered. “You aren’t getting dysphoria or anything, are you?”

“Oh, right now? Like a son of a bitch.” He looked down. “I should just call it a day...” He got up. “I’ll see you later.”

“...Alright, see you later.” She got up and gave him a quick hug. 

Eddie walked back home, looking down, and kicking a can as he walked. “God fucking shit balls...” He grumbled. 

“Ironic of a girl to talk about balls.” The familiar, yet terrifying voice came from behind him, making him freeze. 

“I’m not a girl, Bowers.” Eddie turned to him slowly, only to get shoved back.

“Shut the hell up, you fucking freak.” He said with his normal harsh tone. “Fuck, fine, if you insist to much on being a man that you wouldn’t mind if I beat you up a little, huh?” He leaned down, grabbing Eddie by his hair. 

“Ow- Bowers you ass let me go!” He yelled, trying to make him let go. 

“No fucking way, fag!” He spit in his face and raised his fist to punch him, but Eddie kicked him in his, ahem, fragile spot. In a moment of weakness, Bowers let go and put his hand over his area, falling to his knees as Eddie scrambled up. 

“A-And for the record, you’re no more a man then me!” He yelled, then turned and started running for his life. He soon heard the sound of Bowers chasing after him and fear filled his heart. 

“Shit shit shit shit shit-” He was cut off when he bumped into someone. Someone he was absolutely not expecting. 

“Eds! My man! I’ve been looking everywhere for you-”

“Oh- ohoho.” Bowers looked at the two and he grinned. “If it isn’t the Queer.” He grinned. “Come to save your freak girlfriend?” He cracked his knuckles. 

“Shut the hell up, Bowers!” Eddie yelled, only to receive a kick to the head.

“Quiet, Tranny whore.” He growled and looked at Richie, who had immediantly knelt down to help Eddie. 

“Stop it Bowers! Leave him the fuck alone!” He yelled. 

“Stop pretending, fucking queer. We both know that’s a girl.” He growled. 

“No he’s not!” Richie got up. “Trans-fucking-gender or not! He’s still Eddie! He’s more of a fucking man then you!” He yelled, the sudden urge of confidence bellowing from his chest. “So fuck off and go blow your dad or something!” He growled. 

“Oh, That’s it you little shit-” He stepped forward to do something, but his father’s voice stopped him.

“What the hell is going on here, Henry?” The cop’s voice said. “Shouldn’t you be home, you fuckin’ pansy?” He crossed his arms. 

“Y-Yessir...” Bowers quivered, turning and walking to his dad, and once he left Richie howled with laughter. 

“Did you see his fucking face?? He looked like he was about to cry! What a fucking softy!” He laughed harder. “Eds, Eds, that guy is such a fucking ass, amirig-” He looked at Eddie and blinked when he saw him crying. 

“Woah- Hey, Eds, What’s wrong?” He rushed down by his side and cupped his cheeks with his hands. “Look, I’m sorry for the vagina joke, I was just being stubborn-”

“It’s not that, you fucking moron!” He looked at him with wet eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’m scared! I’m scared of you!”

Richie blinked. “Wha- Huh? What did- What did I do-?”

“I’m scared you’ll hate me because I’m trans and that you’ll think differently! I don’t want to lose you because of something like this! I love you, idiot!” He started sobbing harder. Richie looked at his best friend in disbelief. Not disbelief because he was trans, no, disbelief because he thought Richie would ever feel that way about him. 

“Eds...” He kneeled down and wrapped him in a hug. “I could never hate you...” He muttered. Eddie sobbed into his chest, not saying a word. “I love you too, You know...” He muttered. This made Eddie stop and look at him. 

“R-Really...? Even though I’m...?” 

“Even though you’re. It’s not a bad thing, Eds. It’s who you are. I will always, always love you for being who you are.” He rubbed his cheek softly. “You’re always gonna be ‘Eds, My love’, okay? I’m not leaving you because you’re trans.” He hugged Eddie close. 

“O-Okay.” He smiled a bit to himself and he hugged him back. “I love you too...” He muttered. “Oh, and Richie?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Don’t fucking call me Eds.” Eddie grumbled, earning a laugh from Richie. 

“Yeah, Sure thing, Eds.”