#and even if like small things change i get distressed. like. i Need to sit the left side of the table near the wall or window

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

I've definitely got something going on up here but I don't have the confidence or the knowledge to say what

[moonstruckme]

hey sooooo I have a fic request for u babe! What about reader with Remus and it's like the first time she's sleeping over and she unexpectedly gets her period and she's like sorry I ruined our night I can go home and Remus is just like what?? No stay and just him soothing her through the cramps

Thank you for your request ml!

cw: period pains, mention of blood, brief allusion to mdni activities (though they truly could just have been making out if you want)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 960 words

It’s rare, this early in your relationship, that you and Remus can sit down to watch a film and actually watch it. But it seems you’re both thoroughly spent from partaking in those other activities so frequently during the day, and now you’re both just winding down for the night, waiting to see who will admit to wanting to go to bed first. 

Remus is just as content with this, your arm pressed against his and your head heavy on his shoulder, feeling your ribs expand and contract with relaxed breaths. He could get used to having you here. It’s taking more restraint than he could have imagined to keep himself from just offering you his spare key and begging you to come and go as you please. 

“Oh, shit.” 

It’s a whisper, not particularly alarmed, but the way your muscles go stiff tells Remus it’s not nothing. You sit up, taking your weight off of him. 

“What is it?” he asks. 

You don’t answer him at first, squeezing your eyes shut. Your expression is one of unmistakable mortification. You look agonized. Remus tries to let you have the time you need to think, but a worm of unease eats further into his gut with every second of your silence. 

You push out an exhale that sounds laborious. When you open your eyes, there’s enough apology in them for a capital crime. Remus thinks that he’d probably forgive you if you told him you’d committed murder (and maybe that should scare him more than it does). 

“I think I’ve just stained your couch,” you admit. 

“Okay,” he says slowly. He doesn’t see the cause for such distress, but he also isn’t sure what you’re talking about. You’re not holding a drink, so how could you…oh. “Oh, is that all?” 

His nonplussed reaction doesn’t seem to affect your unease. “I’m so sorry,” you say, wincing. 

Remus tuts. “Don’t be, you can’t help it. Do you have anything with you, or do I need to nip to the store?” 

“I’ve got stuff.” You stand to get your bag, turning to grimace at where you’d been sitting on the couch. 

Remus’ reaction skews in the opposite direction. It’s only a splotch; by your response he’d been half convinced you were sitting in a veritable puddle of blood. 

“I’m so sorry,” you say again. “I’ll be right back.” 

“You’re alright, love,” Remus promises you. “Take whatever time you need.” 

While you’re in the bathroom, he addresses the stain. Truly, it’s no great hassle. With friends like his it’s hardly the first trial his couch has faced, and besides that Remus has an unusual amount of experience with getting blood out of things. 

It’s soaking when you come back, a small rag covering the spot from your view. You’ve changed into your pajamas, presumably because you’d stained your pants as well, but this is far from an unwelcome development. You look terribly cuddly. 

“You alright?” Remus asks as you come back to stand by the couch. 

“Yeah,” you say, somewhat quietly. You seem suddenly timid, like a guest in his home. He wants to hug you. 

“Does it hurt?” he presses. 

Your mouth pulls to the side, which is answer enough. “A little. It’s been hurting for a while, I just didn’t recognize it for what it was. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting it this early.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” He reaches for you, hiding his disappointment when you only put your hand in his. “That’s not a very nice surprise, is it?” 

“No,” you agree with a halfhearted smile. When Remus squeezes your fingers, you squeeze back, and you at least seem up to holding his gaze even if you still look sheepish. “I’m sorry to ruin our night. I can go home.” 

“What?” A bit of hurt bullies its way into Remus’ tone. Your expression changes like you’re surprised to hear it. “No, I think you should stay.” 

You look hesitant, so he tries again, gentler this time. 

“I mean, if you’re hurting and you want to be in your own home, I understand,” Remus says, “but I hope you’re not leaving on my account. I’d like for you to be here.” 

You watch his face as though looking for discrepancies. “Really?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he says earnestly. “Of course I’d love to keep you. Getting your period doesn’t change anything, except that now you’re in pain and I’d like even more for you to stay so I can be with you.” 

The muscles around your eyes relax, your expression softening into something so tender Remus feels his own heart turn to mush. 

He gives your hand a little tug, and you take the cue, sitting back down on the couch between his open legs. 

“Can I put my hand here?” he asks you, touching your stomach. 

“Sure,” you say, still somewhat timidly. You take his hand in yours, moving it down a couple inches until his fingers are skimming the soft fabric of your pajama bottoms. “But it’s more like here.” 

“Oh, okay. Can I put my hand there?” 

With your nod, Remus slips his hand beneath your waistband, to that plush stretch of skin between your belly button and your panty line. He presses down gently. 

“Oh.” Your body goes lax. 

Remus chuckles, dropping his head to kiss your shoulder. “That helps?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh contentedly. “A lot, actually. Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it.” He pushes on a tense spot experimentally, rewarded when you sink further into his front. “Just don’t try to run out on me the next time something like this comes up, yeah?” 

You agree readily. “Mhm. I wouldn’t have, if I’d known this was going to happen.” 

Remus smudges another kiss onto your shoulder, smug. “Just remember this then, I suppose.” 

[maple-the-awesome]

The Chain Meets His Baby || 2/2

Part 1 ||

Pairing: Twilight, Warrior, Legend, Sky x Reader

Requested by @kieradumpzz081927: I hope your request are open(or if ur free for requests), so i saw ur LU oneshots about the one that is called ' He becames a dad ' or smth. So, why not that he would introduce his kid(s) to the chain? That ones going to be interesting Warning: Some mature jokes here and there. Nothing major, but gotta give the new dad a little hell, right? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Zelda Masterlist 🤍Fandom Masterlist

Six minutes and twenty seconds. That's how long you were able to relax before a series of knocks ruined your peace. Predictably, the sound is enough to echo throughout your small home followed by shrilling cries from the once silent cradle mere feet from your bedside. 

You could almost cry yourself, although you're able to hold in your frustrations thanks to the smoothing pat your husband gives your head before sighing heavily himself and sitting up from bed. All the two of you wanted was one second of sleep - one second to collapse in bed next to each other and rest your eyes which feel as if they haven't shut in weeks, but apparently, that's too much to ask of this universe.

After giving a quick kiss to your cheek (and smirking at your annoyed grumbling), Twilight slides off the bed and makes his way to the cradle. There, he skillfully sweeps the wiggling newborn into his arms, cooing the distressed baby loving as they make their way to the front door. Seeing as this precious child has only existed for a mere week, it can't really be too much of a surprise that your home has become a hotspot for visitors. Between the village children excitedly wanting to see their newest member and their parents stopping by to offer meals, advice, and all-around support, it seems your door is almost always open these days (not you truly mind one bit), although as it would turn out, your current company doesn't fall into the excepted categories. 

"What are you guys doing here?" Twilight suddenly doesn't feel so tired anymore once setting eyes upon the familiar group. They're all here - all eight of the heroes of courage; his treasured friends. This is, what, the third time his world has somehow crossed with theirs? This is really becoming a common pattern, isn't it, and for a split moment, Twilight feels a strike of fear at the thought of this being the start of yet another long, tiresome journey. Now!? He couldn't possibly leave now! What kind of partner and father would that make him? You need him here. He promised he'd be home for you, and for -

"- There's no danger, so don't fret. We've already investigated everything before coming here," Time, who must've read Twilight's worried expression, promptly explains things while failing to fall victim to the same jaw-dropped silence that strikes every other hero in the group as they all stare in astonishment at Twilight - or more accurately, the bothered baby huffing in his arms.

Instead of mocking surprise, Time’s eye casually drops to acknowledge the little one, his lips lifting into a pleasant smile, “...And this must be the famous pup I’ve heard so much about?”

“Wait, you knew?!” Sky gasps, everyone’s shocked attention snapping to the Old Man. He pays them no mind, too focused on his main priority of being the first to hold his great-great-something grandson who Twilight eagerly passes over.

“Ah!” The Rancher’s once worried expression changes like a switch, flashing away into an all-too excited grin. As has been common lately, having new company around immediately sparkles a rambling spiel fueled by his flooding avidity (which has impressively failed to die down even with the exhaustion of early fatherhood), “I was gonna send letters to y’all - it just slipped my mind. These past few days have been a bit chaotic while getting all adjusted. Yep, this one’s mine - lil’ Lupin. He’s officially four days old, born at 10:14 in the morning at a healthy 7.6 pounds -”

“- You’re gonna have to write all that down for any of us to remember it,” Wild rolls his eyes, although it’s in good spirit as he peeks at the tiny baby with a small smile. It doesn’t take the other boys long to notice that, like Time, their Champion doesn’t seem too surprised by this situation either, looking at the newborn with only a little bit more interest than he would a cute puppy.

“I take it you knew, too, then?” Four quizzes.

“He kept hinting towards it at first until I finally gave in and asked. I didn’t know when to expect them to be here, though.”

“It’s been nine months since then,” Twilight points out teasingly, causing Wild to huff and throw his hands up in the air defensively. 

“How should I know how long they take to bake! Besides, judging by the way you practically sent me a whole novel about how excited you were, I figured it was only going to be a matter of weeks, maybe a few months by that point. How in Hylia’s name did you stand to be like that for nine?”

“I barely did! It was hell having to be that patience, anyone here could tell you…but Lupin’s here now and definitely worth the wait, I’d say,” Twilight sighs dramatically, looking lovingly at his son who by now has settled peacefully in the comfort of Time’s arms, no longer squirming and fussing. To be fair, his ancestor does have quite a bit of practice juggling twins at this point. One is nothing.

“He’s a beautiful baby, that’s for sure,” Time chuckles, at last taking his eyes away from his newest family member, “You did good, cub.” 

Twilight preens at his mentor’s compliment, “Isn’t he? I’ve been around other babies before, but having one of my very own…It just hits different, ya’ know? …I actually wouldn’t mind a couple more -”

“- Don’t push your luck, mister,” On cue, you appear from around the corner, tiredly rubbing your eyes yet managing a smile to greet the rest of the Chain, "You weren't the one who had to go through nine months of heartburn followed by hours of torture.”

“- Eventually. I wouldn't mind a couple more ‘eventually’,” Twilight clarifies, quick to hook his arm around your waist and pull you against himself the second you’re close enough, “Besides, you handled it like a queen.”

You roll your eyes while resting your head against his shoulder, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere different.”

“That’s not what you said nine months ago~” Twilight smirks, pressing a kiss to your forehead only to earn himself a swat against the head.

Warrior originally elected to ignore the heavy knocking at his front door which threatened his peaceful morning's silence. Whatever this kingdom demands of him, they can simply add it to his tab. He's comfortable in bed where it's warm and you're snuggled in his arms, looking as beautiful as ever with a mess of bedhead and matching dark circles under your eyes. Best of all? Your son has achieved a new record of sleeping for three straight hours - THREE! 

Now, Warrior is relatively used to less-than-ideal sleep schedules as a hero and captain, so having a newborn around hasn't quite hit him with the same force as it might a typical man, but that doesn't mean either of you are going to be ungrateful towards this new parenting milestone. No, you were planning on taking full advantage of it actually, wanting nothing more than to spend a lazy morning in bed until your little monster inevitably awakes...however, it seems the universe always has other plans.

The knocking only grows more frequent and loud, drawing a groan from your fiancé who finally relents. Pushing himself out of bed, he reluctantly answers the door without much effort put into hiding his annoyed expression - that is until it naturally snaps into one of mild shock and excitement at the sight of his visitors. Instead of it being someone from the Castle or military, he's pleasantly surprised to find his old traveling companions, the other heroes of courage.

"What are you all doing here?" He suddenly doesn't feel so tired anymore, in fact he’s stricken with more life and a bright smile while gazing over the group to count each familiar face. Yep, they're all here - all eight of them. It's been so long! Well, maybe not that long. It hasn't even been a full year yet since visiting Twilight's family together, but that's still plenty of time to miss old friends.

"Well, some of us have been talking lately and we thought, why not put some time aside from our busy lives to have a little get together - just us heroes, for old times’ sake!” Wild announces enthusiastically, practically inviting himself inside, not that Warrior stops him or any of the others for that matter.

“It could be a little tradition of ours. Once a year, type of thing,” Sky explains more professionally, although he isn’t any less excited than the Champion. 

"A nice boy's trip to save you from the misses," Legend rephrases, elbowing the Captain’s side with a wink while passing by.

Warrior will admit: it is an intriguing proposal - getting away from the stresses of a hero to spend quality time with brothers who understand your woes. If only the Chain had visited a few months earlier, he’d be willing to entertain such a trip, but alas, he must give them a sympathetic smile instead, “As much fun as that sounds, I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you. At least not this time around.”

Immediately, the group’s uplifted smiles drop into disappointed frowns emphasized by a chorus of dejected groans. 

"You knights and all your fancy work kissing the royal family’s ass," Legend huffs, and Warrior was just about to bite back on that comment with a jab of his own, however their conversation is suddenly interrupted. 

A piercing cry catches the entire Chain off guard, many of the boys looking around wildly for the possible threat while others - namely Time and Twilight - are jolted by that familiar protective instinct they know all too well of from their own home lives.

“Actually, there’s another reason,” Warrior doesn’t hide his amusement towards everyone’s reactions nor does he hide his tired sigh once realizing his free trial of peace-and-quiet has ended. 

He doesn’t even make it to the doorway before you appear, already rocking the baby gently in your arms. It takes some fussing from both of you to smooth his tears, calming him down just long enough for Warrior to turn back to his friends while proudly gesturing to the newborn in your arms, “Well, allow us to introduce our son, Einar.”

From there, it takes mere seconds for the Chain to snap out of it and instantly crowd you both, each fighting to get a good look at this ‘son’ in question.

“Since when did you guys have a kid?!” Hyrule awes.

“He’s so little…He can’t be that old, right?” Sky gasps.

“Only a few weeks, I reckon,” Time observes calmly from the back, tall enough to simply gaze over the sea of shoulders and heads. 

“Hey, move out of the way! I can’t see! I wanna see, too!” Wind whines, shrugging to push his way through the barrier of bodies.

Twilight, steps back from the chaos to throw a playful smirk Warrior’s way, “Here I thought you were waiting for kids.”

“Us too,” You roll your eyes.

“Life happens,” Your partner merely shrugs, not even attempting to act ashamed of himself as he accepts responsibility of holding Einar while you excuse yourself to prepare a bottle once he starts whimpering again, “But we wouldn’t trade him for the world.”

“Geeze, you’re all getting old on us,” Legend mocks, eyeing Warrior, Time, and Twilight, “Not even three years ago, the Old Man was the only one of us in a committed relationship, now all three of you are suddenly tied down with children!”

“Don’t go sounding too jealous, Vet. I’m sure you’ll have your turn someday,” Warrior smirks, resulting in the other hero sticking out his tongue in disgust.

“As if. Me? A dad? You sure the world should be subjected to that?”

“Right. You might actually be doing everyone a favor by not reproducing.”

“Oh fuck off -”

“- Shh! Not in front of the baby!”

“I, for one, wouldn’t mind being a dad one day. It seems like a lot of fun,” Sky, coos, letting little Einar play with his finger, “If you ever need a babysitter, just let me know.”

"Careful. We might end up taking you up on that offer with how little we've been sleeping lately."

"Get accustomed to it, my friend, because it doesn't go away anytime soon," Time advises with a pat to the back, failing to hide the mirth filtering his voice as the new father sighs exasperatedly.

Legend isn’t usually the type to delight himself with hosting guests, nor is he much of an initiator when it comes to any sort of social interaction, so suffice to say, the Chain was rather thrown to have received unprompted invites to visit his world and home. Why the sudden open door? He gave no explanation, leaving all of the boys guessing, although Time has a few notable theories swirling in mind.

It all goes back to months ago when Legend had unexpectedly appeared at Lon Lon Ranch, claiming to have simply ‘been in the area’, yet Time knew better than to believe that. An experienced man like himself immediately took notice of his friend’s frazzled and irritable mood, such a state of dishevelment hinting towards one thing: problems at home - problems likely relating to you, to be exact, seeing as your boyfriend was swift to avoid any mention of your name when prompted.

Realizing that prying would be ineffective against someone so notorious for his emotional barriers, Time had allowed Legend to stay with him and his family without question. He, of course, kept a close eye on the young man, trying to deduce the situation the best he could from all those frustrated grumbles while working chores and pitiful sighs as the two sat together on the back porch after dinner. 

It was then that Legend had taken the moment to ask Time a rather odd question that had admittedly hung in the Old Man’s head for days afterwards along with a curious conclusion as to the true reason behind his sudden visit, however nothing more was said that night beyond some wisely woven words soaked in hidden meaning.

By morning, the veteran hero was visibly relaxed when quietly expressing his plans to return home to you. Clearly, whatever troubles that once plagued his mind had been resolved following a day of reflection and a goodnight’s sleep, so Time felt confident sending Legend back on his way with a wish of luck and an offer to return whenever needed.

Perhaps that incident and this friendly invite are unrelated, after all, it’s been months between the two, although Time can’t help but wonder, the memory of Legend’s question being of particular interest as the Chain approaches their destination. 

Some of the boys share their concerns along the way, a bit unsettled by the thought of Legend wanting to see them. Warrior even suggests the possibility of their friend having gone through a bad break-up, insisting there’s logic behind his guess since losing you would be the Vet’s lowest point, the extreme heartache being enough for him to abandon all stubbornness and reach out to the Chain for moral support. Arguments deemed his theory outlandish, however when Legend opens his front door to greet them, the boys begin to worry Warrior might indeed be a good prophet…

“It took you all long enough,” He huffs, his voice worn and scratchy which really sends home his obvious lack of sleep when paired with his unkempt appearance; heavy bags under his eyes and shaggy hair that stands up on all ends, “Come in, come in…”

‘Oh Hylia!’ The Chain thinks, sorrow for their friend already sinking into their bones as they illy prepare themselves for a story of true despair. Yes, Legend can be difficult and stubborn at times, and maybe you had your reasons, but surely he couldn’t have messed up bad enough to warrant you leaving him! Hasn’t the poor guy already been through enough?

“...Hey man, you doing alright?” Warrior was just about to rip the bandage off, his hand placed supportively upon his friend’s shoulder which earned him a sleepy look that falls sort of its intended glare, however before he can get any reply -

“- BABY!” Wind’s gasp pierces ears and makes several of the others leap in their skin. Indeed, if following the youngest hero’s excited point, it'll lead to where you stand in the doorway with an amused (that be it tired) chuckle…So, you didn’t leave after all? You’re still here, looking as rough as your partner which is probably excusable since in your arms is, in fact, a new baby.

“Hello everyone. I’m glad you could all make it.”

“...Oh thank Hylia you didn’t leave him!”

“What -?” Legend raises an eyebrow at Warrior’s dramatic sigh, yet he doesn’t get much of a chance to be offended. No one would notice anyway, their attention having swiftly abandoned their dear old friend in exchange for you and the baby you introduce.

“His name is Liron,” You note, earning a chorus of awes as the sweet little bundle scrunches his tiny face in displeasure towards the disruption to his peaceful sleep; already, he looks so much like his dad.

“So this is why you invited us over, huh?” Hyrule glances back over the sea of shoulders to send Legend an amused smile, “We thought something bad might’ve happened!”

“We wanted it to be a surprise…” The Vet sighs, unable to stay mad at the group’s energy, after all they have every right to be amazed. His son is pretty damn beautiful. 

“Well, I’ll be darn. You gotta kid now,” Twilight smirks, even going as far as to elbow Legend’s side which, as always, packs more strength than probably intended, “And after all that hell you gave us!”

“Yeah, yeah, karma's a bitch. Laugh it up - HEY! Wash your hands first!” Legend’s focus is immediately diverted from rubbing his sore ribs to pointing an accusing finger at Wild who’s stopped mid-reach from taking the baby you pass towards him.

"I did!" The Champion gasps in offense.

“Not here you didn’t. Do it again! Sinks in the kitchen!”

Wild grumbles, forced to forfeit his turn in holding the baby. A glare is all it takes for Hyrule to follow him shamefully as well, allowing Time to be the first to actually hold the little one since his hands successfully pass cleanliness approval. Nevertheless, despite his spotless palms and seasoned experience as a father himself, the older hero must put up with Legend's paranoid hovering which isn't too unlike a hawk's, ready to snatch back his baby at a second's notice if deeming the situation to be too ‘unsafe’. Fortunately, Time's nice enough not to mention this behavior beyond a silent smirk.

“...What went through your head when you realized you were going to be a dad?”

Now Legend’s question - as random as it had seemed those many months ago - makes complete sense. The timid whisper that spoke it, the nervous avoidance of any eye contact, and that deep, thoughtful frown while listening to Time’s honest answer - all signs that pointed towards a worried father-to-be desperate for direction as he fought to keep his own insecurities and fears at bay.

At least Time can finally rest easy knowing their past conversation did some good for his friend. The young man may be fidgeting while impatiently watching his new child be passed around the group for each to see, your gently hand upon his shoulder only doing so much to relax his anxieties. You’re also both beyond tired, fitting to Time’s warning that parenthood is by far the most difficult journey one can ever take, yet there’s a switch of softness that overtakes Legend’s expression the second your son begins to mumble his disapproval, apparently fed up with all this attention that he’s receiving. 

In an instant, Legend’s there, stealing back the small infant and clumsily doing his best to smooth such sharp cries. Yes, it’s difficult and nerve wracking to become a parent, especially for the first time, but to see all of your efforts throughout the years take form into such a beautiful and amazing being of pure innocence…that’s the most rewarding adventure yet, something Legend’s clearly already beginning to realize himself. 

Sky's been practically bursting at the seams all day - well, all week, to be more accurate - but today is especially special since you’re both expecting a visit from some of his closest friends, the other heroes of courage who haven’t been by Skyloft in far too long.

Seeing as their reunion has been so long overdue, it should be no surprise that your dear husband has been bubbling with eager anticipation all morning (long before the sun had even risen thanks to your shared lack of a proper sleep schedule). While he does genuinely miss his old traveling companions, a majority of his restlessness comes from wanting to share some exciting news about a recent ‘development’ in your lives, one he’s had to hold himself back from spoiling in their routine letters (which are shared far more often than in-person visits).

Before you can even process the knock at your front door, Sky is already darting across the room to answer it, matching the delighted smile worn by all the other boys. He eagerly ushers them inside, his impatience finally spilling over by this point, something he can’t help. As already mentioned, he’s been waiting for this moment for quite a while - and has dreamed about for far longer than a simple ‘while’. 

You can only chuckle at how quickly you’re swarmed by curious eyes, the other heroes not hesitating to stand and kneel around your chair just to catch a glimpse of the tiny bundle you cradle. To say it took them off guard would be the understatement of a century. It completely knocked them off their feet to realize what you're holding and what Sky’s excitement has been all about!

It’s a baby - a tiny newborn with puffy cheeks and itty-bitty hands balled into fists! She doesn’t even look real, or perhaps this whole situation itself just doesn’t feel real. In the Chain’s defense, it’s been years since Sky and you announced your intentions of starting a family of your own. Unfortunately, your struggles in achieving this goal became no secret, and your friends had begun to slowly lose hope with you. They truly worried the day might never come which explains their complete awe now. 

“Her name’s Azure,” You tell them, wiping away the tears that bubble in the corners of your eyes. Curse these hormones! Your daughter is already a few days old yet you still cry each time you see another’s reaction to her. Can you be blamed? It only solidifies the reality that this is, in fact, your baby. Sky and you are officially parents!

“Congratulations, man!” Warrior throws an arm over your husband’s shoulder and pulls him close into a side hug, “You’ve earned it!”

Sky shares his laughter with a shake of his head, his eyes immediately drifting to yours, “My wife deserves most of the credit. She’s the one who endured all those long and tiresome months to get little Azure here.”

“And you took amazing care of us both throughout every second,” You point out just as quickly with a gentle smile, “I couldn’t have asked for a better partner to go through this with.”

“Now we’ll have to start planning some playdates with all our kids. Let ‘em tire each other out,” Twilight points out, giving Sky’s other side a nudge with his elbow.

“Maybe being around Azure will get Hope to stop asking for a sibling for a while,” Hyrule sighs exhaustively. 

“Yeah, no, that has the exact opposite effect. Trust me,” Legend huffs with crossed arms.

Wind’s hand pops out from somewhere in the back of the crowd, only seen as he eagerly tries to jump up and down to gain attention, “Oh-Oh, Tetra and I can babysit if you ever need it!”

“I didn’t think she even liked kids?”

“She ‘likes’ kids, she just doesn’t like being ‘around’ them,” Wind rolls his eyes at Legend’s comment as if the reason isn’t obvious, “But she said she’s been wanting to get better with them to practice the whole ‘being a nice princess’ thing -”

“- All of that can come later,” Time swiftly interrupts the wandering conversation, “I’m sure as new parents, these two would appreciate rest above all else for now. There’ll be plenty of time for playdates later down the line.”

“We’ll definitely set some up once Azure is old enough,” Sky chuckles in agreement before kneeling by your side to help fix the blanket around your sleeping daughter. Although there’s quite a bit of time until then, the idea of finally being able to participate in such arrangements is exciting to you both. No more standing on the sidelines feeling out of place with your hearts’ yearning. You’ll finally be able to share the joy all of your friends feel.

“You both look like happy parents. Congratulations,” You preen at Time’s compliment, looking to each other through tears in your eyes which then drop to Azure who snuggles closer to you, blissfully unaware of the effect she already has on your hearts as she merely enjoys the comfort of your loving embrace. Your most special treasure, indeed…

[etclouie]

Could you do Derek Morgan x Reader or Spencer Reid x reader where reader is a new member of the team but is scared of flying so the first time on the jet they need to comfort her? Obvi I know you have a bunch of stuff you are still writing but i think this idea could be cute. It honestly could be for each character and kinda like a head cannon list on how they would comfort reader. Thank you so much if you get to this!

first time flier

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 summary: your first time flying was on your first out of state case, and derek helps you through your nerves (Derek Morgan x !fem reader)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 warnings: none really, being scared of flying, female pet names/nicknames (angel, sweetheart etc), this is proper simple but can go deeper if people want

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 word count: 514

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 a/n: writing this for derek cause i have like no ideas for him at all

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 criminal minds masterlist | main masterlist

you’d recently joined the bau, being the newest member on the team already had nerves flying, but when your first out of state case meant you had to fly you were dreading it. 

never having flown before, you were a nervous wreck when you were walking up the jets stairs. Derek behind you, and his voice flooding your ears. 

“what’s got you all shaky legged like this?”

his voice always held teasing, and normally you managed to brush him off but your nerves had you a nervous wreck as you finally boarded the jet. sitting in the closest seat, and rolling your eyes as Derek sat down opposite you. 

that all too familiar smirk plastered across his face as he continued his teasing, his arms laid loosely across the small jet table. 

“talk t’me sweetheart, i’m not gonna judge”

meeting his eyes with a reluctant huff, his smirk immediately faltering as he finally took notice of the distressed look across your face. 

all the signs were there. watching him piece together your situation while the rest of the team boarded the jet. 

first thing you done when you sat down was pull down the small window blind and then buckling your seatbelt, breathing shallow and your head lulled back trying to soothe yourself. 

“ohh you’re scared of flying?”

there was a twitch of teasing in his tone but he was primarily reassuring as he spoke, his hands reaching across the table to soothe his thumbs across your knuckles, gathering your attention onto him and nodding in response to his question. 

“it’s nothing to be scared of angel, yeah? i’ll help you through it”

his words only processing once he was sat by your side, taking your left hand into his right one and continuing to soothe his thumb across your knuckles. 

this was one thing you didn’t expect when you woke up this morning, the Derek Morgan helping you get over your fear of flying. especially not with him this close to you and holding your hand, this was a nice change compared to the teasing Derek you had grown familiar with. 

“thank you, for this and for helping me with flying for the first time”

glancing up at him to see his eyes already on you, his thumb stilling against your knuckles before a chuckle pushed past his lips. 

“your first time flying? shit, i thought you were just a bad flier”

that had a soft laugh leaving you, most of your nerves gone as you focussed on Derek’s distractions. his hand never leaving yours, even when Hotch began debriefing the case. 

you felt safe flying with Derek by your side, his teasing slowly coming back and holding your full attention with it. 

even on the flight home, he made sure to sit right next to you. nerves still there, but a lot less rampant than the flight out. Derek was there for you the whole time, his hand in yours once more; and even managing to get you to sleep. 

as long as you had Derek there, flying wouldn’t be that bad. 

requests are open here !

[spacebaby1]

Yuta always makes me feel soft. He is a thoughtful, kind man who is devoted to his loved ones. He is his mother's son. Of course dad Gojo. 😙 He is jealous because his son is his mother's copy. Their only son. Especially the mother is very fond of her son. Can you write some cute things?

I wanna write more of these😩🩷my beautiful boys!!

You were overjoyed when you found out that you're gonna have a baby. And Satoru being the only son of Gojo clan made everyone in his family excited for his first born; some even excited that your child might have the six eyes just like his father, which is one thing you didn't want. The birth wasn't easy, and it came to a shocking end. You could still feel the five days labor pain even after many years and it made your body shiver everytime you remember; crying from the labor pain, barely able to lay down or stand when everyone were petrified on your situation, unable to help you. Satoru haven't felt this hopeless all his life as he did in those five days to the point that they all that you might lose the baby. On the sixth day, at the early hours of the morning, your baby boy was born. You remembered crying as your mother in law placed your son on your chest; even Satoru couldn't hold his tears back as he caressed your hair gently, whispering praises. The intensity of labor left your body in so much distress that your doctor sadly informed you that you would never be able to have another child in the future. The news was a slap in the face for both of you however having your precious baby yuta in your arms was worth every pain and every other loss.

To your and Satoru's relief; your son did not inherits Satoru's six eyes on the other hand your son was a carbon copy of you; he had your black hair, your dark blue eyes and your personality, your gentleness and even your smile. However, he was as strong as he's father but he surly was your baby no matter how old he got. Yuta would never leave your sight which made his kindergarten years very difficult because he would cry nonstop when you weren't there. You'd go to shop leaving him with Satoru and he would still cry for you.

It was another long day when you and Satoru were fast asleep when the baby monitor went off, you groaned getting up but Satoru pulled you back to bed, still half asleep himself. He kissed your forehead before whispering, "I'll get him, Mama." You nodded falling asleep only to be woken up minutes later with another cries of your son, you got up rubbing your eyes and saw that Satoru wasn't in bed so you made your way to Yuta's room.

You could see how tired Satoru was softly rocking his little baby in his arms, "hey, he's not letting papa sleep?" You said with a small smile making your way towards your husband. Placing your hand on your husbands bare arms, "is he hungry?"

Satoru sighed handing him to you with a pout, "he won't stop crying and I tired to feed him but he won't eat and he doesn't need changing, I think he needs his mama to hold me and not his handsome dada." You chuckled at that but you knew that Satoru felt a bit left behind from your childs love. You kissed Satoru's hand while rocking Yuta in your other arm, "He loves you and he wants his dada to have a goodnight sleep that's why he won't stop crying to let mama hold him, right yu?" Yuta already stopped crying and falling asleep. Satoru kissed your head leading you towards the rocking chair and sitting by your side as you held Yuta in your arms, "he's so mini you, isn't he?" Satoru smile gently rubbing Yuta's cheeks. You smiled, "he has your beautiful nose tho." Satoru chuckled planting a kiss on his son's head, "Our beautiful boy."

Your thoughts were cut short when the front door flung open followed with your husbands unmistakable voice and your teenager sons tired groans. Yuta had just turned twelve and Satoru would take him for training ever since because he wants his son be able to help himself and other just in case he encountered a curse. And it was getting to your poor boy.

Your two boys entered the living-room when You were putting some reports away and Yuta literally ran to wrap his arms around you leaving a tired sigh, "Welcome, home you two." Satoru gave you a kiss while your son still held onto you, "Satoru, did you overtrain my baby?" All your husband did was laugh, "hey, this wasn't even the actual training."

Yuta sighed looking at you, "ma, I'm tired. Papa said we need to train more, tell him no." You looked at your husband and he just shrugged. You sighed, "just don't drain our baby boy." You said to your husband and rubbed your sons back, "come on, both of you go get ready. Dinner is ready, now up up. Come on, papa you too. Go" you pushed your husband when he tired to hug you laughing.

The dinner was as cheerful as everyday both your boys "arguing" over their training and you watched them with a loving smile on your lips, "admiring my beauty?" Satoru wiggled his brows to which you son reacted, "eww, not in front of me." You laughed and ruffled Yuta's hair, "Eat, both of you." You noticed how Satoru watched Yuta tell you all about the school events and his training with his dad with a small smile, as your husband played with the food in front of him and that smile would fall every now and then.

The three of you were watching some TV show in the living-room with your son laying on your lap and Satoru on the arm chair. No matter how old he got, Yuta would always lay his head on your lap as you placed your hand in his hair caressing it or just placing it on there for comfort. Satoru would lie if he said that he wasn't a bit jealous and wishing that his son would lay his head on Satoru's lap. Satoru often felt left out no matter how hard he tried to be around his baby boy. However, he never stopped showing his love to his child. Yuta yawned and you tapped his shoulder after looking at the clock and it was 10 in the evening, "Okay, bedtime. Come on." Yuta nodded getting up from your lap and giving you a long hug, "Goodnight, Ma." You kissed his cheek, "Goodnight, Baby." He smiled and went to hug Satoru, "Goodnight, pa." Satoru hugged him tight observing the love he is getting, "Night night my superstar."

Satoru made his way next to you on the couch and dropped his head on your chest as you played with his silver hair not giving any attention to the TV, Satoru was laying on your chest eyes open and lost in thoughts. "What's going on in your mind, papa?" You asked hugging him to your chest and he let out a long sigh, "You'll think I'm overreacting," He chuckled and you kissed his head. "I'll never think that, now tell me what's bothering you, is it the work?" Satoru shook his head nuzzling his head in your neck. "Do you think I'm a good dad?" He asked almost in whisper. You looked at him and made him look at you as he sighed and sat up straight, holding his face in your soft hands your spoke, "you're an amazing dad, your the best dad to our baby boy and you have been the most loving since the day Yuta was born. Why would you even think otherwise?" He sighed looking at his hands with heavy eyes that took you by surprise when he whipped the tears before falling. You moved closer holding his hands in yours, "hey, Sweetie. Satoru, why are you crying? Did Yuta say some-"

He shook his head immediately and chuckled the tears away looking at you, "Our sweetheart Yuta would never say anything to make me cry. He's such a gentle boy just like his mama always considerate of others feelings. It's just, ugh I don't know, I'm being so dramatic but I feel like he likes being around you more than me and I'm terrified that he'll grow away from me and I wanna give him all my love and support I just feel like I'm lacking at something." You hugged your husband, "I'm sorry you feel like this Sweetie. You're an amazing dad and Yuta loves you as much as you love him don't you ever feel like he doesn't like being around you and you out of all people should know how much he looks up to you and tries hard to be like his strong papa. He's just a-"

"Mama's boy." You both said together and Satoru laughed holding your hand in his and placing a soft kiss on it, "I don't know, I just felt the need to let that off my chest and you just know how to make me feel better, I love you, I love both of you." You smiled and hugged your husband.

Unknown to both of you Yuta saw and heard it all when he came back to grab his bag but stopped when he saw his parents talking. His lips quiver when he saw his dad crying and feeling like Yuta didn't love him. He went back to his room and tried to not cry at the image of his father crying in his Mama's arm.

The next morning you were in the kitchen making breakfast while Satoru was going through the report you wrote from yesterday. It's how your weekends went a late breakfast with you and Satoru rewriting the report for the week missions. Yuta came down a bit to excited skipping his way to hug you first, "morning angel, slept well?" He nodded happily giving you a kiss on cheek making you pout at how tall he has gotten; your baby was growing so fast. He happily ran to hug Satoru, "wohh, Good morning strong boy, don't attack your old man like that, I might break a bone." Satoru kissed Yuta's head, "slept well?" Yuta nodded happily still hugging his dad. Satoru's brows frowned as he hugged his son, "you okay, buddy?" He rubbed his son's back. Yuta finally let go and smiled, "better than ever, you're amazing pa." Satoru smiled as he ruffled his sons hair, "says the strongest boy. Who's my strong boy? Who's my strong baby boy?" Satoru spoke in a baby voice holding Yuta's cheeks making him laugh and try to let go of his fathers hold. Yuta finally managed to free himself from his father's hold, "Pa, are you busy today?"

Satoru smiled as both of your boys made their way to the kitchen to help you set the table, "not really, no missions for the day, why? You want me to drive you to your friends?" Yuta shook his head as shrugged, "Nah, I was thinking if you want to hangout at the mall? We haven't been to the mall, if you'd like?" He asked nervously and Satoru's eyes light up, "ah, yes and your mother would love to go-"

Taking your chance you spoke, "I don't think I can baby, I still have the report to finish, how about you two boys go and have fun? Plus I need my alone time." You said making them chuckle. Yuta looked at his dad, "Yes! Sure, let's go after breakfast."

You happily watched your husband get ready as you were standing by the doorframe, "you seem so happy that's making me fall in love with you over again." You said making Satoru smile, "I fall in love with you everyday!" He placed a long kiss on your cheek, "have fun at the mall, and get me something sweet when you come back." You said that and headed towards your sons room to find him trying to button up his shirt sleeve; unsuccessfully. Which reminded you of your husband and how both your boys can't button up their shirts sleeves. You laughed and Yuta forward his arm happily for you to button up his sleeves and you immediately helped him, "have fun okay? And please don't let daddy eat so much candy?" Yuta laughed at your request and hugged you once you were done, "I love you ma, I love you both so much." You kissed his forehead once you let go, "we both love you more, baby boy."

You watched them both leave and went to your report once again not minding the quietness in the house. Surprisingly you needed that time alone after finishing the report you went to your reading until it was getting dark and you heard the familiar voice of your two boys entering the house. Followed by laughter that made your heart swell with love at the sight of your two boys. "Pa, show ma what we won today!" Yuta hugged you quickly before rushing towards Satoru making you smile wide, "and tell her about the new store we want to! Ma, you won't believe what pa got you and we had so much fun. There was this new game store and pa and I went a bit crazy but it was so much fun." You watched you son and husband show you the big stuffed toy they won. "I take it you two had fun?" You asked to which Satoru and Yuta nodded happily. "Should we try the new video game, yu?" Satoru asked and Yuta nodded, "Yes! Wait I'll turn the TV on pa, get the game. Let's play it!"

It's been a few hours, and your husband and son were playing the video game on the living room floor, laughing and having fun while you happily read your book from the couch. A few few minutes later, Yuta fell asleep with his head on your husbands lap. Satoru turned the TV off and turned to look at you with a huge smile on his face, which you matched to his. Carefully, Satoru carried his son to his bedroom with you following behind. Satoru placed Yuta on the bed and was about to leave when Yuta grabbed his hand in his sleep, Satoru tried to carefully let go but only to earn an annoyed groan from his son. You chuckled and whispered, "Now he won't let go of his papa. Stay with him a while?" Satoru nodded with a smile as he knelt down next to the bed, caressing his son's black hair with such gentleness and love. You kissed Satoru's hair as you watched your two precious boys.

[crazyyluvr]

hi! Can I please please ask a kaz brekker x reader? I was thinking of reader being a blind heartrender. I headcanon blind grishas to have their abilities amplified, and a blind heartrender would be basically daredevil XD.

Thank you in advance for reading the request, I really loved six of crows!

I am the QUEEN of Hearts, Don't Tell Me Otherwise

pairing: kaz brekker x reader

summary: Having a blind Heartrender has its perks. For Kaz Brekker, having a blind Heartrender that can hear his heartbeat change around her has its disadvantages.

genre: fluff

wc: 3.4k

content: reader is blind, fem!reader with she/her prns, violence (some torture), reading is a bit clumsy, kaz's heart speeds up a lot

note: OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA <33 tysm for requesting anon. i hope this layout is fine, i just wanted to try something different. sorry if it's kinda bad, i wrote it in one sitting LMFAO. either way, hope u enjoy!!

oneshot under the cut :: not edited

Perks

1. You didn't need your eyes to see.

It was very useful in heists to have someone who knew that someone was walking towards them without having to actually see them. Being blind somehow enhanced your hearing and your touch on your Grisha powers, and that was why you could do a lot of things easier than other Heartrenders — even Nina — had difficulty with.

It was one of the main reasons why you stuck with Kaz when he had to crack a safe; you were basically his lookout.

"Someone's around three minutes out," you whispered to him, standing a few paces behind Kaz who was hunched over a safe. Your head was tilted to the side, your ears were focusing on a melody only you could hear.

"Scratch that, two minutes out, they're moving faster," you reported. "Are you almost done?"

Kaz focus on the complicated lock didn't break as he replied, "I need more time."

"Okay," You moved forward, hands in front of your thighs to guide you around the desk in front of you.

"Thirty seconds," You said, the heart beat of the approaching guard getting louder and louder. "How down?"

"Shut-eye," He replied.

You put your hand up in front of you.

The doorknob jingled a little, and you activated your power, drastically slowing the heartbeat of the guard before he could open the door. You heard a thud on the floor, and you knew that he was unconscious.

A few seconds later, the safe clicked open. Kaz reached in and grabbed the money that you came for. "You could have at least tried to soften his fall or something. Someone could have heard that."

You shook your head. "There's no one close enough to hear." You turned to Kaz's voice, a small smirk on your lips. "Besides, It's just the two of us. I didn't want to leave you alone, 'cause you'd miss me too much."

Kaz rolled his eyes. "Don't feed your ego. It's not a fitting sight for you."

You laughed a little. "Like you don't do that everyday."

You turned to get out of the room, opening to door to free yourself. The door opened halfway before it suddenly stopped, like it was blocked by something. You didn't expect the obstruction, which caused you to trip over something and fall to the floor with a loud bang on the wooden ground.

Kaz stood over you in concern. You had tripped over the unconscious guard's body. "I thought his body was facing the other way," you groaned.

Kaz didn't have time to reply before both of you heard shouts in the corridors. Looks like they could hear that. He used his cane to get hold of the back of your jacket and pulled you to your feet.

"Time to go!" You dusted yourself off, leaping over the body and speedwalking away from the thundering of more guards, Kaz right at your heels.

2. You could always tell if someone was distressed.

You didn't live in the Slat, since you preferred to have your own place away from the gang, but that didn't make you any less close to Jesper, Inej, Wylan, Nina, and Matthias. You visited the Crows often, whether it be in the Slat or Crow Club.

You knew how important getting together was to them, whether or not they'd admit it. In a life full of mistrust and traitors, it was hard to find a crowd that you could actually trust. Of course, your friends had their own secrets that they kept to themselves, like how you had your own, but being with them without the pressure of telling them those stories was precious.

You were able to loosen up around them, laugh with them without the fear of judgement or that these moments of vulnerability would be used against you.

Instead, you relied on them to just forget your current struggles as you talked about stupid things over drinks.

You also used it as a chance to check up on them. You couldn't see them but you could hear them. Being blind made you sharpen your hearing more, both with our without the use of your Grisha abilities.

You could tell when there was something bothering your friends, which is why you knew there was something bothering Wylan when you and your friends decided to share some drinks in the Crow Club.

Jesper was mid-argument with Nina about what came first: the chicken or the egg. Inej and Matthias were just listening to them, occasionally adding their own thoughts or laughing when either of the debaters made a particularly stupid point.

You noticed that Wylan wasn't talking as much as he normally did. You felt him fidgeting beside you, his arm or his leg twitching more than it usually does.

If those weren't enough of a sign that there was something weighing on his mind, then there was his heart that also proved that point. It never seemed to settle. His shallow breaths that occasionally came in huffs of frustration agitated the muscle in the middle of his chest, making it beat faster than normal.

"Hey," you whispered to him, breaking him out of his troubled trance. He looked at you curiously. "Are you okay?" You asked, your brows unknowingly furrowing in concern.

"I'm fine," Wylan said, smiling reassuringly.

You rolled your white eyes. "You do know that fake smiles won't work on the blind, right?"

Wylan's smile dropped, shocked. "How did you know I was smiling?"

"I didn't," you shrugged, taking a sip from your glass. "I just guessed. But seriously, is there something wrong? You seem more distressed."

Wylan sighed, leaning back in his chair. He looked around at your table, and when he confirmed that none of your companions were paying the two of you any mind, he answered truthfully. "My dad's still sending me letters."

"I hope you've burned those letters," you huffed, feeling your blood boil quietly at the mention of Wylan's horrible sperm donor. "He's just trying to provoke you, make you feel worthless."

"But —"

"Don't even try to tell me that you are worthless, Wylan," you said harshly, turning your head towards him despite your blank eyes not meeting his gaze, instead staring through him. That did nothing to lessen the defiance in them. "You may not be able to read, but who cares? I can read for you, Jesper can read for you. That's kind of the point of having friends, we'll make up for whatever you lack."

Wylan thought about it for a moment. You could tell that your words worked on him from the way his breaths eased and his heart steadied.

"Yeah..." A smile slowly spread on Wylan's lips, a genuine one this time. "Thanks."

"Anything to stop your very loud heartbeat from distracting me," you joked, making Wylan laugh.

Kaz watched the interaction from the bar, his eyes unreadable as he turned back to his drink, finishing it before heading upstairs without another word.

3. Lies couldn't hide from you.

Kaz swung his cane, the crow handle finding its mark on the man's knee, hitting it with a sickening crack. He cried out in pain, keeling over but not going that far due to his hands chained to the ceiling.

The man was a spy placed in the Dregs. You found him when you were having a private heist meeting and heard his heart lingering out the front door.

So now, you were both trying to find out who hired the traitor — well, more like Kaz was beating him up for answers while you served as his lie detector.

"Who are you working for?" Kaz said, repeating the question he's been drilling into the man for the past hour. Despite the way he was pathetically sobbing, he still refused to give up the name of his boss.

Not out of loyalty, but out of fear, you thought, taking note of the way his heart beat at a pace only set by fear. Fear not only for what Kaz could and would do to him, but also fear for what would happen if he gave Kaz what he wanted.

"Olek!" He cried. Kaz, blood splattered on his black vest that was exposed from his decision to abandon his coat for mobility, turned to you expectantly.

You shook your head. "Lie."

Kaz swung his cane again without hesitation, this time bringing hitting the man's chest. The man's scream in pain was worse than before.

Kaz probably broke a few ribs, you thought offhandedly, only flinching in disgust when you felt some of the blood from the man's mouth hit your cheek. You wiped it off immediately.

"I was telling the truth!" He yelled, sobbing. "I was telling the truth!"

Kaz used his cane to tilt the man's head up by the chin, forcing him to meet Dirtyhands' cruel stare. He would receive no mercy, as there was nothing that could be given in the first place.

"My Heartrender said you lied, so you lied," Kaz said through gritted teeth. "If she keeps saying otherwise, you will die for this boss of yours. Are you willing to give your life for someone who could care less about it?"

When he received no response other than cries, Kaz prepared to hit with his cane again.

"Karlos!" The man screamed, pausing Kaz mid-swing. "Karlos Drulak!"

Kaz didn't turn to you before you spoke, your smile heard in your voice behind him. "There's our answer."

Your satisfaction was mutual, as Kaz's shoulders let go of some of its tension as he straightened — well, as much as he could without relying on his bloodied cane. "Finally." He readjusted his gloves and turned around, limping away, only stopping to speak to you.

"Send him to the grave."

Your smile widened into a grin, your teeth flashing in the lamplight. "With pleasure."

Kaz left you to your business, the screams of terror fading into the night as he went to the Slat to formulate a plan with the new information he'd just gained.

—————

Disadvantages

1. You didn't need your eyes to see him.

You always knew it was him.

Whether he would enter the Crow Club to find you drinking with Jesper, or he'd knock on your apartment door with an important matter in mind, or even just passing by him in a busy market despite the noise and the multiple heartbeats.

You always noticed him.

It bugged Kaz. He knew that no matter what other disguises he may put on, no matter whether or not he had his cane to tap on the tiles of the road or the wood of the Crow Club or the Slat, you always knew it was him.

He stood in front of your door, staring at the number in front of him. The plan for your heist the next day had undergone many changes, and he had to inform you of them.

He took a deep breath, raising his knuckles to knock.

"Come in, Kaz," you called, voice muffled from inside the apartment. It always happened when he popped by; he'd inhale, prepare to knock on the door, only for you to interrupt him and just tell him to go in.

He let out a quiet huff almost fondly. Of course she knew.

He opened the door, letting himself in. "You knew it was me." It was a question said as a statement. That's just how Kaz normally speaks when he's curious but wants to hide the fact that he's curious, but you could always tell the difference.

"Of course," you said, not looking up from your construction of your beverage. Your hands had eyes of their own, moving to the familiar spots of your condiments. "Your heartbeat."

"Everyone has their own, do they not?"

You laughed, meeting his jab with softness. "Yeah, they do, but none of them quite beat like yours."

Kaz's heart sped up a little at the words, and he knew that he couldn't hide it from you. Your knowing smirk just made him feel warmer.

2. You could always tell when he was distressed.

Kaz wasn' the only one who had access to unannounced appearances.

You made it a habit of appearing randomly in his office just like him visiting you in your apartment, but unlike Kaz, you sometimes came there just for his company, to just sit down on the spare chair in front of his desk and read or draw or whatever your mood makes you do. Neither of you say a word, but you could tell that he was also content with the arrangement.

You found Kaz seeming more distraught than usual, the normally steady beat of his heart thundering like a skittish horse that was cornered by unwanted oppressors.

Kaz didn't look up from his the papers on his desk when your signature knock reverberated in his space, or when you swung the door open to let yourself in.

"Is there something wrong?" You asked casually, approaching your seat and sinking into it. There was something oddly comforting about the hard wood resting on your back, like an anchor in an unknown sea.

Kaz tilted his head to look at you, eyebrows raised. "What makes you think there's something wrong."

You playfully waved your hand in Kaz's general area. "You gave off a distraught aura the moment I stepped into the room."

Kaz scoffed, making you smile. That was the closest thing you'd get to a laugh from him.

You let your playful persona slip as your face blanked, your white eyes staring at him seriously. "Kruge for your thoughts?"

Kaz studied you for a moment, before leaning back in his chair with a sigh. He ran a gloved hand through his slightly messy hair in frustration. "Per Haskell gave away one of two of our storage units for twelve thousand kruge."

Your eyebrows shot up in shock. "Just twelve thousand?"

"Exactly," Kaz huffed. "I'm trying to get it back, but the buyer's refusing. They haven't even moved in yet, and I already told them I can return the money they gave."

Kaz intertwined his fingers with each other, thinking deeply.

His dilemma also put your brain to work, shuffling through the possible solutions.

"Who bought it?" You asked.

"Karlos Drulak," Kaz said. The name sounded familiar to you.

You snapped your fingers, pointing to Kaz's left side. Kaz lifted his cane and moved your finger to point directly at him like you intended.

"Ah thank you," you said before continued. "He's the one who hired the other dude! The one who infiltrated the Dregs."

Kaz perked up slightly at the memory. How could that have slipped from his mind?

"Do you think that him buying our unit can be related to his unknown issue with us?" You wondered aloud.

"That's certainly a possibility," Kaz hummed.

You grinned. "See? Your heartbeat has already slowed."

You stood up, hefting the book you never opened in the office with you. "Well, I'll leave you to your thoughts. I'm sure you can figure it out on your own."

"Are you leaving me because you don't want to brainstorm?" Kaz rose an eyebrow in slight amusement as you made a beeline for the door, your feet having already memorized the layout of the room.

Your chin hooked on your shoulder to give him a view of your grin. "Too much of something is bad. Even thinking."

You gave him a lazy salute as you left, but as you closed the door, you could have sworn you heard a laugh escape the man's lips over the faster beating of his heart.

3. He couldn't lie to you.

Kaz's hearing was muffled from the sound of ringing in his ears. He forced his eyes to open, blinking hard to try and shake away whatever spell unconsciousness casted upon him.

He saw you crouching over him, eyes staring down at his chest, where you had a hand over. You must've revived him.

He felt panic thrum in his veins, his hands moving before he could stop them from slapping your palm away from him.

"Kaz!" Your voice was oddly muffled as he tried to stand up. His bad leg didn't cooperate with his wishes as he fell back down on the rough ground.

He looked back at you, and now you kept a respectable distance from him, your form framed by flame with worry creasing your forehead and pulling the corners of your lips downwards. He barely heard your next words: "Breathe!"

He forced his chest to comply, inhaling the smoky air and exhaling with a cough.

Two more of those, and you held out his cane for him to grab, slightly askew. He hesitated, but grabbed on it, letting you pull him to his feet using his cane. He was swaying on his feet, and you could tell from his slowing heartbeat that he was close to fainting from smoke inhalation.

"I know you don't like being touched, but you can't walk out of here without me helping!" You shouted. You felt pity pinch your chest at the ay Kaz’s heart sped up at that. You didn’t want to force him but you had no choice.

You didn't have time to wait for him to regain his bearings as part of the flaming roof collapsed mere feet away from you two. You flinched at the bang, but you didn't hesitate to sling his arm around your shoulders and drag him out of the room, snatching Kaz's cane and using it as your guide to the entrance right before you felt the flames lick the back of your coat.

Kaz furiously patted the small patch of flame on your back to extinguish it. He felt the water on his waist slowly rising, but he tried to push it down.

It was just you, his Heartrender. He'll be fine.

"C'mon, Jes is waiting for us at the rendezvous," you said, your voice strained from carrying most of Kaz's weight. He tried to walk on his own, to lessen your burden, but his body was too weak for it.

You left the building, Karlos Drulak's brand-new bar. Hey, at least the color of the fumes complimented the brown...?

Jesper caught you two and rushed forward to help, but you stopped him with a single shake of your head. It took a lot for Kaz to just let you keep him upright, what more if Jesper added to that?

You both hobbled as one to a safe distance before Kaz collapsed inside an alleyway. He took deep breaths, trying to fight the black roses of anxiety that bloomed in the corners of his vision.

"Kaz, look at me," you spoke, feeling his heart rate spike, but you weren't sure what you could do to help. "Kaz, what can I do?"

"Talk," He strained. "Distract me."

"Uh — okay, okay," your brain scrambled for some story to pull up, so it decided to bring you a memory from your childhood. "There was a time where I revived a dog of my old neighbor when I was seven years old," you said, your eyes trained on his chest like you can see his heart. "My parents were off to work, so they left me with the neighbor, and his heart just stopped beating. The neighbors didn't know what to do, but I just put a hand on him and willed his heart to beat again. He lived for seven more years after that before he peacefully passed."

"You should have let that dog die," Kaz gasped, but his breaths were slowly evening out. "I hate animals."

You smiled lightly. "Liar."

"How can you tell I'm lying? My heartbeat's already all over the place," Kaz huffed.

"I don't need my power to tell that you're lying," you said, shaking your head fondly. "I know you Kaz. In the years that we've worked together, I got to know you. I know you feed your scraps of food to the strays behind the Crow Club, which is why they keep coming back for more."

"Didn't know anyone noticed," Kaz said, his breaths more symmetrical as his vision cleared.

You laughed. "You really expected me to not notice?" Kaz saw how you hesitated, how your smile faltered before you continued with seriousness lacing your voice. "I always notice when it comes to you."

Kaz sighed, gently grabbing the cane from you and hauling himself to his feet. "Let's go to the Slat. Better make sure that the others know we're alive."

"Wow, you want to tell them you're alive so they don't get worried?" You cooed, walking a few feet beside him and syncing your steps with him. "Soft is a good look on you."

"Shut up, Heartrender," He grumbled, but a small smile broke through his face.

"Your Heartrender," you sang, skipping slightly knowing that he can't deny you from the sudden speed of his heart.

He shook his head, the smile still not leaving his face as you both walked.

His Heartrender indeed.

[steam-beasts]

The Chaos Continues

Sir Topham Hatt stared silently at the sight of what he was mostly sure were his engines, hugging eachother for comfort in their strange new bodies.

Bertram had went through many things during his time as controller; nearly losing the No.1 of his railway not once, not twice, but five times. Finding out some of his diesel engines were holding some of his steam engines hostage, getting his office blown up thanks to a former Navy man, witnessing his very expensive top link express engine nearly have a boiler explosion, having to go hunt his tank engine that was kidnapped by a rally car, dealing with one of his engines having a meltdown over the changes. The last and most stressful thing he went through was being forced to watch his poor engines practically mutate into beastly creatures and abandon them for nearly two years.

Now, it was this.

You know what? He needed to sit down. Sir Topham Hatt groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose as he simply made his way back to his office, he didn't want to deal with this right now. As soon as he got there, he didn't even bother with shutting the door and sat down at his desk "...oh dear, oh dear...why do things like these keep happening..?" He groaned, rubbing his temple. Sometimes he wished he could've done more to prevent any of this from happening, but then again, how could he have known this would happen?

Before he could try to think of anything else, the stationmaster suddenly ran into his office, looking quite stressed out "Sir! There's trouble in the sheds!"

Sir Topham Hatt's eyes widened and his throat felt dry, he almost dreaded to ask, but he tried to keep his composure as he stood up "What's happening?"

The stationmaster looked very hesitant "Emily, Edward, Henry and Gordon. Th-They...well...erm" Topham walked up to him, stern but anxious. The stationmaster yelped as the stout gentleman pulled him down to eye level "My engines have what?! Spit it out, lad!"

"I believe it would be better if you saw for yourself, Sir"

________________

Down at Tidmouth, each the engines' crews were standing outside their respective engine's berth, muttering anxiously to one other. They could hear their engines letting out distressed whistles from inside, but wanted Sir Topham Hatt to see to it. Edward's oldest crew, Charlie Sand Jr and Sidney Heaver Jr noticed Thomas's new crew, Mr Conductor and Junior coming out from around the corner.

"Ah, Mr C!" Charlie exclaimed, jogging over to the pixie man "Charlie, is something wrong?" Mr Conductor asked, quickly noticing the worry."Well...yes, actually. You see, um... we're in a bit of a–"

"Oh! Are ye's on strike? I dinnae think Hattie would be too happy aboot that!" Junior interrupted cheekily, earning a small glare from Mr Conductor. Charlie rolled his eyes "No, we're waiting for Sir, actually. Because..." He then glanced at the sheds "...well, something has happened to our engines" he admitted.

"What's going on with Edward?" The conductor asked. Sidney then spoke up "It's not just Edward. Something happened to Gordon and Henry as well, and Emily too" Junior quickly frowned, now realising the matter was probably serious "They... they cannae be gaun feral again, can they? Ah thought we sorted that oot?". Charlie shook his head "No, they're mentally ok. Physically?...I'd rather not say until Sir Topham Hatt's arrived"

Mr Conductor winced and gazed over at the shut doors of Edward's berth, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Conveniently, they saw Sir Topham Hatt driving up to the sheds in his car. As soon as he parked, he came jogging out, trying to keep his hat on his head. As soon as he reached the ground of men and women before him, he took a deep breath, carefully looking at their expressions to assume the severity of the situation before speaking "Alright. What's all the fuss?"

Charlie Sand carefully approached the fat controller and guided him to Gordon's berth doors, opening the door by a few cracks "They're in here, Sir" he said quietly, worry evident on his face. Sir Topham Hatt nodded gravely and stepped inside.

He felt his heart sink to his stomach and skip a beat as soon as he saw them. Edward, Henry and Gordon had went through the same fate as Percy and the others. They were pressed up against the back wall, huddled close to each other. They stared down at Sir Topham Hatt, fear evident in their eyes.

"...Sir?" Edward whispered, the first one to say anything. Edward was quite a skinny looking creature, but he was a little bit top-heavy and quite muscular, as well as fit looking for his age, so were the other two. Though, Gordon and Henry were both on the heavier side.

"Sir...please, I-I don't know what happened to us. We were normal for one minute and the next...this" Edward explained, understandably shaken. Sir Topham put his hand up to silence him, and so he did.

"I'm not mad, Edward. Not at any of you..." he began, masking his own worry "I understand that this was out of your control, but we'll just have to make do for now. Now, where's Emily?"

Henry whimpered and pointed "She's over there, Sir..."

Topham looked over to where Henry pointed. Indeed, Emily was there, and naked. She was basically a giant naked lady. Sir Topham Hatt quickly and for Emily's sake, looked away as soon as he caught a glimpse of her body, coughing with embarrassment "Ahem! Erm...hello, Emily" he coughed.

"Oh, hello, Sir!"

Sir Topham Hatt knew this was gonna be a long week...

To be continued...

[soft-persephone]

I Will Be Your End pt. 1

Vampire!Fontaine x Vampire!Black!Reader x Vampire!Abel Morales // John Boyega x Black!Reader x Oscar Isaac

Explicit // WC: 9.5k // warnings: blood, descriptions of corpses, mild body mutilation, death, violence, mild abuse, horror, smut // masterlist // Part 2 //

music: Good People / by Majid Jordan

AN: Biggest shoutout to @megamindsecretlair her Vampire Tyrone fics have required my brain chemistry and changed my life! She is the biggest inspiration behind this fic so if you even slightly enjoy this one, go check out theirs! It’s truly beautiful!

Apparently it’s too long to make into one fic, so I will wait until next week to post pt2

I hope you enjoy!!

-

Where the fuck she at?”

Fontaine threw a chair and Yo-yo ducked, it smattered into pieces upon impact. Not satisfied, he flipped the coffee table and attempted to kick a hole in the couch, but she stopped that shit quick.

“Taine, Nock it the fuck off! I know you mad and all, but we still live here, and we ain’t got nowhere else to go!”

His breaths were rabid and heavy. His eyes glowing hard.

“Where. The fuck. Is. She?” He huffed.

Yo-yo licked her lips.

“It’s bad, real bad. You need to get to her fast,” he opened his mouth, probably to ask her the same fucking question again, but she stopped him with a raised hand, daring him to say something, “I tracked her like you told me, but she’s smart.. real smart.”

“That ain’t nothing we don’t already know. Yo-—“

“—interrupt me one more time.”

He sighed, shaking his head before sitting.

Good, God… finally.

“So boom!” She smacked her fist unity the palm of her other hand. “She only stops to feed in small towns, usually a racist or someone who tried to put his hands on her or other woman, all untraceable to the cops n’ shit.”

His face goes blank. The attitude he once had gone. She cohdi feel the power radiating off of him in waves.

He’s putting the pieces together.

“She’s in New York.” Her lips formed into a line, waiting for his response.

“How many body’s?”

“It’s more than 50.”

Fuck.

Tyrone knew she’d be pissed with him for the first few years, but not like this.

He didn’t think she’d actually run away from him.

He looked at the antique book he brought you.

What is was about, he didn’t have fucking clue. This was a book published before summaries on the back were a thing. It was so old it barely had a title.

You loved reading, like Yo-yo, and history and shit.

It was the perfect gift.

But now.. he might not even get the chance to give it to you.

“Call Slick.”

-

“Are you alright little one?” A voice from somewhere asked you.

It was so rich. He kept talking and talking.

You hummed.

He should talk more.

You could barely feel the blood covering your body. The fresh dark flood of it was dripping from your mouth. Falling down a similar path as the last stickier dried up drops.

You looked up and saw his glowing eyes.

They were golden, but not like the harsh metallic gold that matched Fintaine’s grills. They were an old gold like the moon. An old golden hued moon that connected every ancient moment to the present. Witnessing the tragedy that had befallen what used to be her life that had now become the eternal damnation she didn’t deserve…. That she didn’t ask for.

You might hate Fontaine and what he did to you, but you weren’t stupid.

Vampires don’t pop up out of nowhere and for no reason.

Fear clings to you, but you fight it back down your throat, swallowing it before licking your lips.

“I’m.. I'm sorry,” you started. Your voice sounded foreign to you. It was hoarse, croaky, and broken, “I don’t know all the rules to everything. I won’t make any trouble.” Your heart sank, “I just needed to rest for a moment. I can le—“

“Nonsense.” He doesn’t raise his voice or yell. It was just as rich and calm as the first time you heard it. You lick your lips once more. “What makes you think I want you to leave?”

His mouth wasn’t moving…

“Maybe I saw someone in distress and wanted to help.” He was smiling now. It was poised and polite.

If you didn’t know any better, right now felt like meeting a person on any other day. Like taking a stroll on a random day, in the daylight. Just like you used to.

You’d be walking towards campus for class only to bump into a handsome mysterious stranger, he’d be nice and help you up. Insisting he won’t leave until he knows you're alright. He takes you to lunch.

Leading you to no longer care how late you would be to class, just wishing the day won’t end, so your new found stranger wouldn’t leave you.

Were you in distress?

You won’t play the fool and deny it. But you didn’t like the sound of it either. You didn’t know this stranger. Only his voice in your head and his old eyes.

What do you do now?

Barely blinking, he was closer to you.

You registered the fact that you were sitting on the ground. Your legs curled up, bending at the knee and strown casually to your side. A body strown on the opposite side of you. Brutally mutilated beyond recognition, his chest split in the center, his flesh and guts spilling out like a wild animal taken down by a predator.

He kneeled behind you, holding your back to his chest with one hand as he caressed your cheek with the other.

“Did you do this?” He asked aloud, the breath of his voice falling softly on your forehead, tickling gently at your eyelashes.

His eyes were even prettier up close.

He was prettier than Fontaine.

You cursed whatever foreign power within you that led you to think of him, even now.

“No….” You answered, your voice still hoarse, “It was a werewolf.”

He pulled you tighter against him. Firmly, but gently holding your head to the side by a handful of your hair.

His mouth danced softly on the skin of your jaw to your neck. Worshiping the area with such devotion, it felt sinful. It felt wrong. It felt worse than the curse of being a monster forever.

His teeth sank into your flesh, filling you with as much bliss as he was taking, he wanted to be full of nothing but you. He wanted to consume you.

“Who do you belong to?” You heard his warm amber voice in your head.

“No one.” You silently answered back.

—

It’s been weeks, Slick.”

“I said I wasn’t no miracle worker,” Charles huffed. “I said, I’d see what I could do and as we seeing, it ain’t a whole lot.”

“Fontaine kicked his chair behind him as he stood up and Yo-yo stepped between him.

“Uh-uh, none of that! You remember what happened last time you killed a witch?” She hissed. “Your not putting me through that again, Nigga! I won’t let you!”

Fontaine smacked his teeth before turning around towards the window.

“You sure you can’t feel her?” He placed his hand under his shirt one more time before reaching out into the bond. He didn’t need to touch his chest in any way when reaching out to feel you in the bond that made you all a clan. It was more to calm himself down.

“Nothing.” Yo-yo sighed.

He had everyone in their clan reaching out in the bond daily to feel you, for someone to be able to either feel your emotions, dream about you, or see visions on where you were or what you might be doing.

And it was all failing.

Your connection was growing weaker to everyone everyday.

The only thing your bond was putting out was an insane amount of power. It could knock out weaker members into walls or send them flying if they touched it. For someone of your status, it shouldn’t be possible.

The only times vampires tell stories of fledglings growing insanely strong in a short amount of time was before they tried to overthrow clans from their masters, usurping the line before executing them in front of everyone.

What Fontaine did after he was turned…

“At least she stopped feeding everyday all the time.”

“But she’s been learning things.”

Fontaine’s eyebrows rose together in confusion.

“What you mean? How can you tell?”

“I don’t know.. I just can.” She shook her head with a heavy emotion everyone in the clan was starting to feel. “Something’s different about her. I felt this new person in the clan and I know you haven’t turned anyone since her.”

“She’s in the middle!” Slick slammed his hand on the table. “That’s why I say give me all the details! Every single time!” He shook his head. “ there wouldn’t been no need, to pull out my whole crystal ball and shit!”

“Will you quit whining!” Fontaine huffed, “and can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“Yo-yo said she feels a new energy in the bond she can’t explain.” Slick fiddled with the hem of his sleeves, “that means she’s found someone else to pledge allegiance to.”

The air went cold.

Fontaine usually has a better grip on his influence and how it can affect the air around him, but when he was upset it came off fast and hard, filling up the room with fear and trepidation that only made it worse.

“No.” He shook his head. “That’s not it.”

“Fontaine, calm down. No one’s saying she betrayed you. We’re just weighing all the possibilities th—“

“I said, no.”

The intonation of his voice changed to something dark and layered with a power that made Yo-yo and slick unwilling still and stop talking.

“She would never.” Fontaine punched the wall.

“She would never drink another vampire's blood.”

—

Abel, cupped water into his hands and poured it over your shoulders, letting it cascade down your chest and your back. The water was scalding, but his hands were warmer.

His hands were gliding over your skin as if he were attempting to create you himself, or he was worshiping the expanse of your skin. Comiting every curve, bump, stretch mark, and stray mole into his memory. Basking at the feel of you and cherishing each millisecond in fear he wouldn't get another chance.

“What.. happened to me?” You asked, “every moment before now feels like a hazy fever or dream I can barely remember.”

“Bloodlust.”

“Bloodlust? I went on some crazy murder spree?!”

“No,” he smiled at your shock and you somewhat relaxed. Still not liking what had become of view, “you drank quite a large amount of blood in a short amount of time, and instinctively once you're in that state your body will only crave more and more in want of being more powerful.”

“I don’t wish to be more powerful. I don’t wish to be anything.”

Abel frowned at you, but ignored your statement.

You were a little disappointed, but you understood.

You didn’t have any friends to confide in anymore, no one to share your experience of existence with. You had no connection with anything anymore, human or creature, nothing else made you feel like more of a monster than that.

“How do you feel?”

“Better, I suppose.”

“No,” he tsked at you, “how do you feel?” His eyes flashed down at you, and you felt his energy quickly fill the room washing over you in a cocoon of warmth, rivaling the bath water.

You sighed.

There’s nothing more you hated then actively practicing and learning about what you now were.

At least, that’s how it was with Fontaine.

You reached deep within yourself. At your spirit or aura.. perhaps something deep within your mind until you felt this new magical essence that now lived within you.

It was bigger, louder.. but it still bore no color.

“I think I’m stronger in some way, but I still don’t know what color I’m supposed to see.”

“You are,” he gently grasped at your sides and lifted you up out of the water, immediately ushering you into a towel, “much stronger that is.” He patted your skin dry , before grabbing a glass jar with oil in it.

“Smell.” He lifted it to your nose.

“Hmmm.” It was a warm boozy vanilla with a hint of something spicy. “I like it.”

“Me too.”

The silence was comforting as you let him cover you with the oil and knead it into your skin.

You can’t remember the last time you had felt so at ease.

He gave you a white sweater that had to be one of his and wrapped you in a blanket as you laid on your side next to him.

He kept his hands to himself and you hated it.

You longed to curl up closer into him and let him absentmindedly play with the locs of your hair. Much longer now that they’ve grown since you’ve died. With plenty of time spent avoiding Fontaine in isolation from him and his goonies, you learned to retwist them yourself.

“How were you turned?” He looked at you with such somber eyes. They were brown just as Fontaine’s but they were much much warmer. Soft things they were, almost wet.

Was she such a sad site? Did he pity her that much?

Was she something to be pitied?

“I’m not sure. I woke up like this one morning in a random bed away from my home and my family.”

His face scrunched together, not just in confusion but sadness.

“No,” he paused, searching for the right words.”Did you consent?”

“What?” You were offended.

Who would ask for this? Only a psychopath would ask for something like this.

“No!” You both winced at how harsh you sounded.

“I did.” He gazed into the distance, looking more somber.

“Why?” You hope you didn’t sound as in disbelief and rude as you felt.

“My… my wife was turned by some random vampire, and once she finally put the pieces together and figured out what happened to her and by whom, she told me, and I asked her to turn me.”

“Oh.”

“Once she did,” he glared at the wall, …

“I had a vision. A plan for our future. . . our family,” he quickly smiled before his face fell into something dark you couldn’t describe. “Generational wealth.” He turned to you with an indescribably smile. His teeth flashed, charmingly so, but his eyes were something else that did not match, “but this. I couldn’t even imagine anything like this getting in my way. Our way.”

“What happened to her?”

“She.. passed.” He lifted his hand to brush your cheek. “She wanted to, and I didn’t hold it against her. We’d been alive for so long.”

“Why didn’t you. . . pass with her?”

“You ask so many questions.”

Had you been alive you swore your face would have burned.

You averted your gaze and focused on his hand on your face.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s endearing,” he pulled you closer, nestling his head on top of yours. You now felt embarrassed for an entirely different reason. “It makes you seem so.. human.”

You sobbed.

“I didn’t ask for this. Any of it.”

“I know,” he placed his hand on the back of your head, suffocating you against his chest and you welcomed it. “I know.”

You will yourself to stop crying. You were done crying.

“I’m sorry this happened to you. When someone is turned it must be with consent. It’s a relationship built on trust. Without it, the bond between master and fledgling is painful for everyone involved

“I have no master!” You argued. “Fontaine.. doesn’t do that.”

“Then how does it work between him and everyone he’s turned.”

You sighed.

“I.. don’t really know. He and everyone in town was somehow turned by this old vampire and he compelled everyone to forget it and to be his slaves or test puppets or something,” you squeezed Abel’s back, holding him closer to you, burying your face drier into his chest, “Fontaine killed him even though he was begged not to, and somehow, they All lived and he was the new leader.”

Abel froze and you looked up at him.

“Is that bad?”

“N.. no.” He pursed his lips. “It’s just unheard of, impossible even.”

He pulled back from you for just a second, looking into your eyes. He moved his hand from your back to the temple of your forehead.

He was looking into your mind.

Fontaine used to try it all the time and you always forced him out somehow.

When he was done he held you even tighter than before. Staying silent.

You thought perhaps he was done talking and just wanted to spend time tucked against you, deciding to sleep and talk about the rest of it in the morning, but you felt his tears fall into your hairline.

You forgot just how horrific what happened to you was. You didn’t always hate him, but now you do. Not just him, but how you used to feel about him.

You’ll never forget that night, and you’ll never forgive him for what he did to you.

Another person, well, vampire, had experienced the story of how you came to die, and they wept just like you did.

You pushed your feelings deep down into the colorless energy within as you’ve always done, and you willed yourself to sleep, wishing for the chance to make Fontaine hurt as you now did.

“Uhoh, someone’s getting a little too turnt!”

“Leave me alone!” You laughed at your friend. “Finals are over, and I can now let loose!”

You might take school a little too seriously, but you came from a home where education was what saved your parents from poverty and they passed that same lesson on to you.

It might be strict to some, but as you grew older you only grew to believe it just as much as your parents.

You wouldn’t have anything if this school shit didn’t work.

You weren’t raised to hustle, you were raised to study, so that’s what you did.

But now it was time to party!

You didn’t always go out with your friends, so the nights you did, were always special. Your favorite food and drinks were always there when you were, and all your favorite people.

Usually you were really shy and reserved, but one or two drinks and the edge is off! You can let loose and maybe even dance. Who cares what anyone else thinks? You're having fun with the people you love and the people that love you!

You're making memories and forming your circle. You dreamed of the big fancy job you’d get one day to finally be able to take care of yourself and live in your own place!

“Uhhh.” Your friend called your name with a badly contained smile.

“Yeah?” You smiled back.

She smirked and then threw her arms around you with a laugh.

“Omg, what is it? Just spit it out already,” you laughed back.

“What would you say, if I told you there’s a guy here with a crush on you?” You blinked.

A crush? On you?

You believed you were pretty. You weren’t that insecure in yourself, people just tend to make it very clear that you aren’t their type.

But this was new!

Your stomach fluttered at the possibility.

“I don’t know!” You laughed again. “But whatever happens, happens!”

Your friend squeaked again and wrapped her arms around you once more.

She was so drunk. You smiled.

“Do you mind if I sit?”

You looked up to see cool dark skin, and a yellow gold smirk of a smile looking down at you.

“No, it’s okay.” You politely smiled back.

He was everything.

He liked that you listened. That you didn’t judge him off his looks.You like that he didn’t assume you were stuck up just because of how shy and introverted you could be.

Conversation was easy. Blissfully easy.

You both probably talked about anything and everything. The big personal life stuff to every miniscule thought and hobby.

He’d never seen Star Wars before.

You are a basic gym person at best.

Some music you both liked, some music he liked you never heard of and vice versa.

“How come you're not scared?”

“Scared of what?” You almost wanted to laugh but you held it in. You weren’t sure how he’d react if you did.

“Of me, or like,” he smacked his teeth, “you don’t act weird and stuff when I talk about what trips me up as a drug dealer or get that silent judgy look. People think that by not saying anything they're being polite, but they don’t know it shows on their face.”

“I don’t judge people based on their life or choices. Just by what’s on the inside. Not everyone has the same chances or choices. We’re all just trying to make it. No matter where we start in life, it’s all toward the same thing.” You stopped and pondered for a bit, searching for the right words. “It’s the government and shit they’ve gotten away with they have us all over the place. Until we can change the system or something like that. . . and yeah.” You ended dumbly.

“Yeah?” Fontaine was practically cackling at you. He laughed loudly. The sound coming from his belly, his low baritone sounds of joy flooded your senses. His yellow gold grillz shining in the low light of the room.

“Just, yeah.”

“Well excuse me for not being able to break down capitalism and its effects on the wealth gap and disparity in America and how it relates to race in one sentence. I've done it enough in school. Which is over now, and I'm tryna take a break from it all.”

You’d never felt so seen, so understood. You could see yourself in him, and he saw himself in you. You both had completely different lives, you had different ideas for almost everything except where it counts. Aside from the basic black experience and the trauma associated with that, or little quirks and social similarities they’ve grown fond of as a collective. There was something more.

A genuineness. A mirroring of the part of yourself that you couldn’t put into words. Tyrone was your person.

That’s why it was so easy to let him take you upstairs. To let his hands roam across the expense of your skin. His mouth was so warm. He lathes at your neck. Dragging his mouth down towards your chest. He sucks hard at your breast until your panting and writhing. He moves towards the next one, doing the same.

You can’t tell where your body ends or his mouth begins.

“You like that?” He looked down at you with half a pearly white smirk. When did he take his grills off? You didn’t know.

He was so calming. He crashed into you like a wave. When you first met on that couch you could feel him pulling you in towards him. The waters of his soul were cool and tranquil, and you’d happily float in the body of it all night. Now as things grew more intense as he mouthed at you, and you clutched at him just as desperately.

“Fontaine.” You moaned his name like a prayer.

He responded with a similar prayer of your name on his lips.

You were drowning in him. The wave of his entire being crashed against you, suffocating you as it flooded over and over your head until you were so far gone underneath the very waters of his essence, of him, you couldn’t breath.

“Who knew such a fat pussy could be so tight?” He lapped and lathed at your skin.

The slow growing ache within you was getting stronger and stronger. Your own desire was eating you alive, burning and festering within you. It was too much. Everything felt so good it hurt, so when he decided to bite down into your flesh, everything within you seized. Tightening in response, screaming for more.

“You like that,” he praised slowly into your neck, “i’an know you was like that.”

He pushed your legs up by your thighs. His hand sliding along your skin as if he was remolding you, reshaping you in his image before he destroys you with the very hands he pulled you out of the dirt with.

You whined, tears brimming in your eyes, but you couldn’t feel them. Fontain didn’t acknowledge them.

You wanted him to feel good. That’s all you wanted. You wanted to make him feel good so he didn’t leave you.

“—wanna be yours.” You mewled as he sucked harder at your neck once more until you made that sound again. He did it over and over again until you whined and panted for more, and he responded with another bite, much harder this time. His mouth staying on your skin much longer.

Waves and waves of pleasure flooded your senses. You arched your back to chase the feeling of his motuh, pressing yourself into him.

He released you with a wet slurp.

“You’on needa worry ‘bout that.” He pressed his dick against you, letting the head bump against your clit as he slid it along your folds. With each lazy movement your hips chased the feeling of his.

Fontaine responded by pulling his hips back, letting you feel every thick inch as he slowly pulled back until only the tip was inside of you before thrusting back into you. He set a slow enduring pace. Each heavy thrust of his hips caused a moan to fall from your lips.

He was branding you. With every thrust of his body into yours, with his hands on your body, with his mouth biting into your flesh. The sounds of his mouth on you matched the wet sounds of his slips slamming into yours.

He wasn’t just consuming you, burning you, he was molding you. Reshaping you not only into a new being but combining your souls. Molting them into one another, you didn’t know where he began and you ended, and you wanted more. No, you needed more. You needed him. You wanted to live for him. Exist only for him.

So you chased every feeling of his body, matching each and every movement of his hips, arched your back further to get that much closer.

It was a night you never forgot. A night you couldn’t forget. Each moment of bliss was now remembered with a matching thought of pain. With every new height of pleasure you didn’t know was humanly possible was now replaced with the thought that every single peak you reached was one step away from your life, your family, and what you used to be at your very core.

A robbery of your humanity.

But you didn’t know that when you woke up in a bed that wasn’t yours. Your phone nowhere to be found.

You were scared and alone.

But you remembered your night with Fontaine.

He took you away from everything, and you didn’t even get the chance to confront him about it while you threw up day and night. While you tossed and turned every waking moment with a headache that wouldn’t go away. While your stomach started to gnaw at your flesh from the inside out caving in on itself. You were hot and cold at the same time and always sweating. Everything started to blur and the sun hurt.

It didn’t help that the room was full of windows.

You had to resort to burying yourself in a hoard of blankets.

But when the moon rose high, you took your chance.

In your feeble weak state, you managed to travel around the foreign town you learned was called the Glenn. Hundred and thousands of miles away from your home.

You managed to find someone nice enough to talk to you.

“You a’right? You need to sit down? You wanta glass a’ water?”

“Please.” Your voice was horse and meak. You didn’t want to be so trusting of all these people you didn’t know, but they had to be better than Fontain or whoever the fuck he was.

You cleared your throat.

“Can I borrow your phone?”

You looked at the date, it could not be right. A chill ran down your spine and filled your entire body.

It’s been 10 years.

You couldn’t have been asleep for ten years! Were you somehow drugged out of your mind? Is that how? What has that sick fuck been doing to your body while you’ve been out of conscience for ten fucking years.

Fear and bile rose in your body and you threw up.

“Aye what the fuck!” You didn’t see what happened next as black clouded the corners of your vision and the world went dark.

However, you were still there.

And in a bath of darkness you focused on your grief and your anger.

You don’t know what has happened to you, but you do know one thing. Fontaine was going to die by your hands, and that thought of comfort let you slip into your first slumber of peace.

-

Yoyo treaded lightly around the corner. She stood still not to draw attention to herself. She watched as the slick black ornate car pulled up to the side of the restaurant. She watched as a man with heavily styled black hair and tan skin stepped out and handed off his keys. Impeccably dressed with a heavy wool coat too match.

“Shoulda went for a black one. Would have been real fresh too.”

Yo-yo bit the inside of her cheek.

“I mean the taupe beige isn’t that bad of a look. It kinda grows on you the more you look at it. But if he really wanted to ste—“

“Nigga, don’t nobody give a damn about his fucking coat!” She hissed.

Why Fontaine made her bring Slick along, she would never know.

“Slick opened his mouth to say something smart, but Yo-yo quickly cut him off.

“Shut up! There she is!”

They watched as he opened the door to the other side.

You stepped out in a gorgeous silk red number that had a leg slit and a low back. You had a white fur shawl that covered your shoulders. Gold dripping around your neck, ears, and a few of your fingers. There had to be some diamonds sprinkled about somewhere. With that type of money, there had to.

Situation aside, Yo-yo and Slick both let out sounds of approval.

“Shit, if I could get all that, I’d leave Fontaine sorry ass too.” Yo-yo murmured.

“As a man with certain avenues and multitudes, I can not hate another player. If you got it, you got it.”

Slick snapped his fingers, the rings on his hands clacking annoyingly so, and their clothes changed.

“What the fuck am I wearing?”

“What are you complaining for? He smacked his teeth. That’s what you usually wear.”

Yo-yo would have appreciated the little yellow thing she wore anywhere else, but not now.

“You saw what they were wearing! This place is classy! It’s nice as shit and they are not about to let a couple of raggedy asses in looking like this.”

“You see that’s your problem!” He raised a finger and Yo-yo had to interrupt him.

“Nigga, I know you not putting a finger in my face!”

“Will you calm yo’ ass down! All I’m tryna say is,” he dusted off his clothes, letting a harsh breath through his nose, “Fontaine made me come with you for a reason. It don’t matter what we wear, I can get us in.”

“Mhmm, you better.”

“Abel.” You warily said his name.

He guided you through a crowd with a hand tentatively placed on your lower back. Plush and luxurious with low thundering music. People were everywhere. But if you really focused and stilled your mind a bit, you could tell who was a vampire, and there were many, and who was not.

Abel was about to answer you, but a young light skinned man had interrupted the steady pace Abel and you were making through the crowd.

“H-hi.” He said softly and sweetly before cupping your face with a hand. He had to be around your age if you were human, boyish features made it too hard to tell, even if he had a beard. Close shaven and shaped well to match his face. . His eyes were a large bright brown as he battered them shyly at you. He had full lips that looked so soft and his lashes were so long.

“Um, hi?” You blinked, not sure what to do. Too many people were crowded around in their own world to care about what was transpiring between you.

You moved his hand from your cheek, and he took it as a sign to move his face closer to yours. You stiled. Even the slightest of movements would have made your lips touch.

“Can you bite me?” His voice was a sultry pant, almost a whine.

Blood rushed through your senses. You noticed it now.

The smell of it in the room. The humans straying around from vampire to vampire.

Something on your face must have changed. Maybe your eyes flashed because his lips parted just a tad more and his eyes almost rolled back.

You leaned in closer, your lips grazing his neck before you felt Abel’s hand slide from your back to your arm, roughly pulling you back.

“She’s on a diet.” He didn’t yell or raise his voice, but his tone was clear cut and dry with plenty of bite.

He raised your hand to reveal the glowing purple glow stick bracelet.

“Oh.” The stranger pouted his lips, causing a rush of something to burn deeply within you, “well,” he fiddled with his fingers, “when you're not on a diet can you come back? I’m here almost every night.”

You turned to Abel, not sure what was happening.

“She’ll think about it.” He patted him on the shoulder before placing his hand at your back once more and led you through the crowd.

Going up steps, he let his hand fall from you, but you couldn’t find it in you to step away from him.

“This is a nightclub for vampires?”

“And humans.” Abel said casually before stopping someone and ordering a few drinks.

“Wristbands are color coded.” He led you to a cornered booth before guiding you in and sliding after you.

“Red for feeding vampires, green for those willing to be bitten, yellow for humans who don’t, and purple for vampires who are on a diet.”

You looked at your purple wristband with a frown. A gnawing sensation swelling within you.

“But I—“

“— have had more than enough.” He sighed as he saw your face fall, “look. Bloodlust is a hard thing to come back from but enough time has passed where you aren’t jumping on any and everything with a pulse.”

You nodded at the reason in his words.

“Who are we here to meet anyway?”

Abel twisted the ring around his finger and crossed one of his legs over the other one.

“The vampire who helped me after me and my wife were turned.”

As the waiter placed down your drinks, a figure appeared out of nowhere. Eerily still and quiet as people bustled to and fro around him. His gaze fixed on you and Abel.

His hollow black eyes reflected the light and surrounding colors in a strange effect you could barely understand. His equally dark and plain clothing was just as off putting.

“He is ready for you.”

Abel took a quick swig of his drink and ushered you out of the booth.

He held you close to him as you both followed the strange man.

“Let me do the talking.” Abel whispered in your ear. “If he tells you to do something, just do it and don’t protest too much.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but Abel rose an eyebrow at you as his mouth twisted into a tight thin line.

“Most importantly,” he whispered in your face as you both climbed the steps to an intricate door to a room that looked over everything, “follow my lead.” His eyes flashed in the familiar old gold you’ve grown comfortable gazing at, but in this moment it made your veins run cold.

“Abel,” a man who looked strangely familiar to him, stood up from behind his desk to dutifully shake Abel’s hand with a formal and polite smile, “it’s been so long. To what do I owe this rare pleasure of a visit from you. Everything is well at the office?”

“Yes, everything is fine, but I have a request to ask of you.”

At that moment, the man looked at you and his eyebrows rose into his hairline.

“I see.” He corrected himself with another polite smile and motioned towards the chairs in front of his desk. “Let’s discuss this in a more comfortable manner.”

He and Abel looked alike, but they couldn’t appear more different.

This man’s hair was much curlier, but does this mean Abel’s hair could be equally as curly?

He was turned much later in life. The evidence in the salt and pepper of his hair and the thick beard that suited his features.

Despite their few differences there was so much they had in common. In the formal attire they both seemed to respect and their equally formal mannerisms, but it was clear this man held some sense of superiority.

Not only in how he moved and acted, but how Abel, the most powerful vampire you had recently met, treaded carefully around this one.

It would have caught you by surprise if you weren’t feeling suffocated by a strange yet powerful aura.

It had to be coming from him.

“Forgive my rudeness, let me introduce myself. I am Duke Leto Atreides although not quite a Duke anymore. That was quite some time ago.”

You cleared your throat and told him your name, introducing yourself just as politely.

“It’s no trouble at all.”

Leto looked at you a moment too long with an odd look, like you had shocked him somehow, before his face fell back into its usual demeanor.

You looked at Abel to see if you had done anything wrong, but he gave you a small nod to reassure you that you had not. However, his face seemed to hold a look of concern or wary at how the Duke was looking at you.

“What is it you came to ask for?” He cleared his throat before turning his attention back towards Abel.

“Well, it’s not so much a favor for me, but for her.” Abel crossed one leg over the other and corgilly clasped his hands together in his lap.

“She’s a fledgling.” He paused, licking his lips and dipping his head down momentarily. His eyes briefly glowed before he slightly shook his head, “she was unwillingly turned.”

The Duke’s head snapped towards you with a frown. His expression of formal politeness was no more. It was quickly succeeded by a cordial disdain, regarded with frown, on your behalf.

“Impossible.” He placed his chin in the knuckles of his hand. “Who would do such a thing? The event of someone unwillingly turned surviving is rare.”

“What!”

You violently twisted in your chair to face Abel and he stilled you with a hard look and an arm across your body to keep you from speaking and moving more.

“That is exactly my understanding as well, but she is alive and well and recently recovering from a bout of bloodlust.”

Leto stood up with a look of thought, and Abel followed suit.

You rise with a glare, your eyes looking between them both. You tried to keep your composure, but you were failing on every level. You could feel your anger coursing through your veins. Whatever magic that had your heart thumping surged throughout your body. Your heart beating faster and faster until you couldn’t feel it in your chest. It was racing at such a speed you couldn’t hear and your vision started to blur.

Leto had two hands on the side of your face, looking into your eyes as you stood frozen in your rage. When did he start talking to you? When did he put his hands on you?

“W—“

“— calm down.” His eyes glowed into yours. An iridescent gray blue. Almost a dark indigo of sorts.

It made you think of the rain. A thunderstorm and how before its clouds burst, the lightning cracks. Seconds after, it’s followed by thunder pounding. How once it ends, there’s an eerily still that falls on everything. The dark clouds recede and a bright and sunny day materializes in a bath of melancholy of not knowing what had just happened and why.

It didn’t calm you down, but it slowed your heart in your chest, something within you was still seething at him.

He didn’t weep for you as Abel did.

His thumb softly brushed at your cheek as he studied your face. A calmness bloomed across his face. His polite superiority is gone, revealing just a man— a vampire.

He looked like he found something he once longed for. Whatever it was, he now found in you.

You looked over to Abel. His expression is neutral,, revealing nothing to you.

“Um, Duke…sir?” You cleared your throat.

He practically leapt back. Except it happened before you could blink and he kept his hands awkwardly in front of him.

“Ah, yes.” He dusted off himself and brushed his clothes. “Forgive me. I got carried away.”

He looked at you once more, but now as if he knew you.

“Is there anything you could do to help her?” Abel's voice was strained with a cordial air, clipped with an agitation.

You reached out to him. Brushing your hands through his hair to rest momentarily on his cheek.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment. His brow furrowing and his mouth twisting to one side before he slightly moved away from your hand.

His face was back to normal, but a nagging feeling within you told him he wasn’t. It made you ache with a need to dissuade whatever it is. You wanted to repay him for all the moments he’s calmed you down and made you feel warm these last few days.

Being with Abel made you realize just how much distress Fontaine had you under. How rage got you out of bed in the morning and hatred got you through the day.

Being with Abel made you realize just how exhausting it was.

You were still learning how to exist in a calm state. How to let go of your thoughts and anger and take things one at a time.

“I can help break her tie.”

You shared a look with Abel. Your eyebrows rose into your hairline and your mouth agape. Leto’s words seemed to put Abel at ease. He unbuttoned one of the buttons of his suit jacket and held a fraction of a smile before he turned to face him.

“It will be very painful, but I—“

He paused. His ears tinging red as he cleared his throat and averted eye contact from you.

“May I,” he licked his lips, “may I have a taste of your blood?”

You looked into his eyes. It was a mistake.

They glowed with a dark unrelenting gaze. His bashfulness was no more, either way, heat rushed throughout all your senses. Your eyes fluttered as you looked anywhere but him.

“Yes.” You quickly stuttered out. “It’s—

“Are you sure?” He interrupted you and moved his head into your line of sight. Suddenly, filling up your personal space.

You blinked repeatedly and stared dumbly in response.

No one had ever asked.

You nodded silently and he only raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yes.” You said softly but with more determination than before.

With careful hands he moved your head to the side.

Burning, his mouth was burning you.

His mouth felt like hot coals being placed on your neck. He cradles your head towards his chest as if he had done it a million times. His mouth moves along your skin with the fury of a thunderstorm, swollen with the humidity of the summer air. Unrelenting and smothering, he finally bit down, something within you breaking. The evidence of its lightning touch was the thundering of your heart in your chest.

You don’t know what to do with your hands. You run them along his chest, his back. You push and pull at the fabric of his shirt, of him. All you could smell was him.

He was all you could feel.

Slowly raising his mouth from your skin, you both pant with heaving chests as you watch the small trail of blood that connects from his mouth to your skin.

Without missing a beat, he laps at the small holes left on your skin. You can’t help the moan that spills out of you, and he closes his eyes.

You slide your hands from his back into his hair.

Desperate to pull him in once more.

When he opens them, neither of you say a word. The glowing storm clouds of his eyes transform into something so dark it’s a wonder they still glow at all.

Without breaking eye contact, he swiped his tongue along his lips to taste more of your blood. Your eyes dart across his face, desperate to catch each movement.

He moved closer to you, mouthing along your neck and sniffed deeply at your skin, pushing his nose firmer against you. He breathed out of his mouth. The warmth of his breath searing into your pores.

You couldn’t take it.

“One more,” he panted into your neck. “Just one more.”

“Please.” You practically pant back into his mouth.

You aren’t aware of much of anything at this point. You're lost in tides of air and whirring winds and you aren’t sure you want it to end.

As he pulls up to you once more, you surge towards him in unison, unaware of just how much strength you were using.

He makes a small oomf sound as you thud into his chest. He puts his hands at your hips and holds you tentatively.

Your mouth clamps onto his neck with just as much fervor. You felt more desperate than he did. You felt like you weren’t as sensual. That you sucked and slurped at his skin like some rabid creature, but the sounds coming from you told you just how wrong you were.

His pants were growing short, sharper, almost transitioning into a low keening wine.

“Fuck.” He whimpered into your ear before pulling you off of him by your hair. An action you would have taken into offense if it was anyone else, but right now after what you both had done, you don’t know what the lines of inappropriate and appropriate were anymore.

“And here I thought I was the only woman for you.”

You both took a step away from each other. Leto straightened his posture and clasped his hands formally behind his back.

You stood wide eyed.

She had your face. Only a bit older in comparison, but you knew your own face when you saw it.

“I think it is past due time for Abel to have another lover.” A man had interrupted. And not just any man, but a man who was the spitting image of Fontaine, save for the African accent and no beard. His hair was much tamer in style, and he had an equal air of superiority that Leto carried, and he seems like the type to not play about it.

He was better than everyone, and he wanted anyone who crossed his path to know it. He barely made eye contact with anyone else in the room. The only reason he seemed interested in your existence was because of how you and Leto seemed lost in one another moments before.

“Forgive me, my love.” Leto cleared his throat and avoided eye contact with you as well. His ears tinging pink before he continued. “I assure you I have not taken up a lover of any kind.”

“No?'' She stepped closer to Leto and ran a hand through his hair.

His shoulders fell into a more casual posture, and his expression softened.

“She’s a fledgling.”

“I think it's time we made our leave.”

You turned towards Abel.

His voice did not reveal his feelings, but from the look in his eyes and the slight frown on his face, it was clear how he felt. A storm of guilt brewed in the pit of your stomach. You had only been with him for a short period of time, but you couldn't help the feeling that you committed some type of betrayal. However, not out of some loyalty, that he was some sort of only being you could be tied to, or that he was some sort of lover, but you felt some type of way about having that moment in front of him.

You still would have done it. You dont regret it in the slightest, but he shoulnd’t have been here to see it.

You sighed. Not caring to hide the agitation in your voice.

“I would love for someone to explain to me what that means instead of acting like I don't exist.”

Everyone turned to look atr Abel for some reason, and that irritated you even further. The rage boiled over within you. You could no longer see who or what was in the room, only what you were feeling.

“I know, through the magic, it feels like she's been a vampire for ten years, but if you’ve heard her story, it's only been for a short amount of time .” Abel said through his teeth.

“Well. . .” the woman who looked like you started. She eyed you up and down hungrily, “If she currently doesn’t belong to anyone. . “

“No.” Abel grabbed your arm and moved you behind him.

“I only made an agreement with him, and I don't have any allegiance to you whatsoever.”

“I understand her position of not being taught the proper edicate for how things work amongst us, but for you Abel there is no excuse!” Leto raised his voice. His eyes a startling eerie glow of a stormy blue-grey.

A wave of energy would have knocked you off your feet if you didn't grab Abel’s arm in time. He was much stronger than you were, so he didn’t seem to be affected by whatever invisible wave was swirling around in the room. He uncharacteristically glared at Leto. His apparent disrespectful attitude unwavering.

The man who had the same face of Fontaine looked you and Abel down with a pathetic disdain.

‘Where is the other one?” He asked as if he was offended that a copy of himself existed.

“What other one?” Abel spat. His eyes closing and his shoulders scrunching up as he waved his arms.

“What the fuck,” he yelled, his fangs bared and his eys glowing a dazzingly dangerous yet beatiful yellow, “is going on? What aren't you telling me?”

“Abel did you not tell them?” the woman with your face smacked her teeth and looked back at Abel with a glare.

“I was getting to it.” He looked much more sympathetic.

“It looked much more like you were about to put your tongue down another woman’s throat if you ask me.”

“Enough!’ she turned back to give the man a look. “Does it look like I care? If you can’t stand to be in the same room as Leto so badly, then you go find Jay!”

He smacked his teeth with a frown, and then suddenly looked over to you.

The sound and look on his face at that moment made him look so much like Fontaine. Anger rushed through your senses once more.

“Wipe that look off your face.’ He scoffed at you before making his way out the door, “I promise you, I hold no resemblance to whoever this other vampire may be.”

He spared one more look at Abel. This time with much less disgust.

“Follow me.”

Abel looked towards you instead.

“Go.” Leto commanded and Abel glared at him.

Silently, he followed. Not bothering to hide his frown.

You eyed him trepidly.

What was all this about?

-

Yo-yo didn’t like the sight of this.

A woman who looked just like you but at least ten years older walked in. Behind her, a man that looked just like Fontaine.

He kept his hair in a sizable fro on his head with a proper edge up that was faded at the temples. A smaller amount of facial hair that was way better groomed than Fontaine would ever attempt.

He was just as fancily clad as the other two men that looked alike.

“This is bad. She’s drunk that other vampire’s blood.” Slick whispered into her ear.

“Shut the fuck up before someone hears us in here!” She whisper-shouted at him.

They had snuck in, but whatever glamor Slick had placed on them had only lasted so long.

Yo-yo chewed on her lip as she watched you all sit down on a large couch. This vampire was just as strong as the one called Leto. Not only that, but she also had your face.

That meant big things. Things they couldn’t change.

A prophecy or some shit.

“Is that why you kept looking at me so strangly?” Yo-yo watched you ask. “Because you know. . .her?”

“He’s only ever met me like this.”

You nodded. Not really looking at either of them, making the woman frown in sympathy.

“My name is Shante.”

“Why do you all have our faces?”

Shante shared a look with Abel.

“Straight to the point I see.” She smiled. “I was the same way when it was my first time. I know it must have been hard and confusing.”

“Hard and confusing is an understatement.” You huffed bitterly.

She let out a short sigh, more out of nerves and not frustration.

You looked up at her oddly.

Yo-yo could only wonder why.

“I won’t hold you long or beat around the bush.”

“I think that’s best.” Abel clasped her hand in his.

“If you want to get technical, we are the originators of these faces and you all are our dopplegangers.”

You nodded, wringing your hands in your lap. “I think I know what those are.”

“You're always going to have a Leto and a Ghezo.”

Shante leveled at you with a serious tone.

This made you leap up with a hiss, baring your fangs.

“I don’t need Fontaine!”

“But you do.” Shante stood up and hissed back at you. “Without him you will never know peace. If you kill him, you might as well kill yourself too!”

“Good!” You screamed! Your voice sends a shock of power throughout the room making everyone still, even Yo-yo and Slick.

“What?” You broke the silence. “What’s so surprising about that after everything I’ve been through?”

“Forgive me,” Shante abruptly sat. “I didn’t know things were that bad between you.”

You sat with a self assured huff. Appearing more calm now that no one was about to tell you to get over your emotions.

“What makes you so sure, I need him?” You swallowed, looking straight ahead and not making eye contact with anyone. “What makes you think I could get over it?”

But everyone knew what you were really asking.

“I once was mad just as you were.” Shante said softly.

You looked at her with watery eyes.

“I was turned just like you.” Shante looked at her and Leto’s hands clasped together in her lap. “Ghezo had made a deal with someone. They promised him an eternity of power. . . But they also warned him about the cost. The people he would lose and now he’d never get close to anyone.”

She drew in a shaky breath and you cooled closer to her. She smiled softly. A tear falling down her cheek. Leto wiped at it with his thumb.

“He talked with all of us, his wives. Some said yes without thinking, but I said no.” She looked up at you, with a stream of tears falling down her face.

Yo-yo wiped a tear of her own as she watched you both cry. Slick put a hand on her shoulder, and she didn’t brush it away.

“I was in love with being human and the idea of cheating death didn’t sit right with me. Long story short, I woke up like this, against my will.”

“What did you do?” You whispered.

“I left him. I left my home. . . And then I found Leto.”

“So. . . You stayed with him and for some reason just forgave Ghezo?”

“I wish I could tell you more, but you and Abel have to find your own way. . . And Fontaine.”

“I’m going to kill him.”

Yo-yo couldn’t hear anymore.

“I think we got what we came for.”

Slick didn’t say anything. Nodding, he snapped his fingers, and they were both gone.

[garf-lover96]

happy anniversary to me and Julian :3 a few months ago i made a post that i will write a fic for the occasion and i DID and i reached the character limit in my google keep note because it was that long. it's almost 4k words!! that's how much i love him guys!! i don't know how i suddenly went from writing little 1k fics to this monstrosity but i'm happy with how it turned out🤞🤞 it's under the cut because it really is huge and also disgustingly mushy, be careful!!.....

i should start titling my fics or something but i don't really want to.. maybe they'll get their titles somewhere in the future

———

Rowan sits in the palace parlor, half sunken into the soft pillows of the sofa. His hand raises to pick at his lips, before the magpie on his shoulder screeches at him and he's forced to drop it back into his lap. The countess sitting across from him chuckles softly and speaks up for the first time in a longer while.

"I do agree with Bluebell. You're much too anxious about the whole situation." Nadia imparts and takes a small sip from her teacup. The magpie seems smug at the fact someone's agreed with her.

"I know, I know that... But are you sure the gift isn't too small?" Rowan asks and starts unconsciously picking at his nails, earning him another loud screech.

"A ring of all things is an accurate gift for an anniversary, I assure you."

"He doesn't even wear jewelry, this is silly..." he mumbles out and rubs his face with a frustrated huff.

Seeing Rowan's distressed expression, Nadia sets her cup down and walks over to sit down by his side. The man straightens up a little as she places a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Can you tell me what this is really about?" she inquires with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Maybe it's just... A commitment thing..."

"...Could you elaborate on that?"

"I just mean- Are promise rings the right amount of commitment? Will he think I'm a hypocrite for giving him a ring when I've previously told him that I don't want marriage-?"

"...Dear, do you hear yourself?"

Rowan is about to start picking at his nails again before Bluebell hops down into his hands and he begins to preen the bird instead.

"I sincerely doubt that Julian would even be capable of such a thought. That is, when it comes to you, at the very least."

"I guess..."

"Rowan, I'm certain that Julian hasn't changed his mind on that agreement. He'll love those rings." Nadia assures, carding through his hair gently and putting unruly wisps back into place.

Sighing softly, Rowan rests his head on her shoulder, her fragrant perfume calming his nerves "I know how silly I sound, I'm sorry..."

Nadia chuckles fondly "This is quite an important milestone for you, it's natural to be nervous about it. Especially since this is your first time celebrating a relationship anniversary."

She glances down to notice that the man is now squeezing Bluebell's body rhythmically. Not that the fluffed up bird seems to mind, she seems a little drowsy in fact, as if she's entirely used to it.

"But you know, if you're this worried that I can't imagine just how troubled Julian is. Remind me when do you have to head back?"

Rowan's eyes move towards the big clock standing in the corner of the room. "In a few hours... And yeah, he's probably spiraling right about now. I bet he got me something beautiful though..." he says and smiles softly.

"Would you like to take a stroll in the garden? You could use some fresh air to relax before your rendezvous."

"Yeah, let's do that... Thank you, Nadia." he nods before reaching over to finish his cold cup of tea.

~~~

Portia stumbles through the streets of Goldgrave, Malak constantly pulling at her sleeves, leading her somewhere. She was really hoping to get some garden work done before the raven showed up and caused a big ruckus. All she managed to deduce from the urgent croaks is that Julian apparently needs help with something. The bird dives down to pull on a strand of her hair once more.

"Give me a break! I told you already, my legs aren't as long as Ilya's-" she yanks her lock back from Malak's talons with a small grunt, "Ugh, if you want me to bail him out again, I swear he'll be going to his little date with a black eye."

She's a little confused when the bird perches on top of her head not a few moments later.

"We're stopping? But this is..." she trails off and looks up. This is undeniably the building where she's watched her brother's stage performances before. But why would he be in the community theater of all places today? She makes her way through the entrance and soon enough she can hear some distant labored grunting, followed by a loud frustrated yell. Malak takes off from her head and flies further through the corridor, then audibly crashes into something with a thud.

"Where were you? I was starting to think you've abandoned me." Julian can be heard talking to the raven the closer Portia gets to the backstage. When the scene comes into view, her jaw drops a little.

"You're stealing a piano." Portia's tone isn't questioning in the slightest, somehow this does seem like something he'd do.

Julian straightens up and whips around to face his sister with a mortified expression "Stealing- I'm not stealing, this is a perfectly legal operation! And what in the world are you even doing here?!" his gaze shifts to the raven sitting on top of the said piano "I told you I don't need any help! Traitor..." he huffs hopelessly and leans against the instrument. The longer Portia looks at him, the more she notices just how exhausted he looks.

"...Don't tell me you were trying to carry a piano all by yourself. Where would you even bring it?"

"It's a gift, Pasha! I spent months trying to renovate this old thing so I could give it to Rowan! He's been taking those lessons from Nadia and he's already so good... I wanted him to have a piano of his own at home." he whines out and runs his gloved hand down his face.

"What- Why didn't you tell me that earlier? I obviously would've helped!"

"Because- Because it's my responsibility! I got the gift so now I have to carry it home! And it's fine because I'm sure you have your own chores to do today and I'm strong enough to drag this thing back to the shop myself. Thank you for your concern." having said that, Julian pushes the piano forward and it makes an outrageously loud creak as it moves against the wooden floor.

It makes Portia grimace. She can't bear the thought of the piano being massacred like this any longer.

"Stop! I'm not letting you drag it on the ground all the way there. You'll just ruin it, idiot." she grumbles and walks around the instrument, managing to get a pretty good hold on it from one end. She shoots Julian a meaningful look, urging him to grab the other side.

He sighs in defeat before quickly laying his discarded coat over it and they manage to lift the piano off the ground together. It makes Malak croak in surprise but he doesn't move an inch. Manoeuvering it through all the corridors leading outside is hard work, so they take a break once they've carried it out into the street.

Only when the daylight reaches the piano can all the intricate details finally be seen. Portia runs her hand over the carvings depicting a bunch of wildflowers and animals. The fresh coat of varnish makes the instrument glisten in the sun.

"And you're telling me you're just allowed to walk out with a piece like this? This must be worth a fortune!"

"A fortune is what I spent on getting it into proper shape... The exterior might be beautiful but the insides were all jumbled up. Not that I know much about pianos... I spent a long time trying to find all the necessary experts to fix it." he huffs out again and rests his elbow on top of the instrument, swinging his hand at Malak to shoo him off of it "Ride's over, I'm not letting you scratch it up..."

The bird relents and moves to perch on Portia's shoulder as she circles the piano, her eyes boring into the insane details. She brings the fall board up so she can see the keys as well.

"...Oh my god, is this ivory?"

"Uh, I'm pretty sure it is, yes. It's supposed to be durable, thankfully none of the keys were missing-"

"This is the kind of stuff they have at the palace!" she exclaims and looks at them in awe.

"It's- It's not too much, right? Will he think I'm out of my mind for getting him a piano with ivory keys...?" Julian suddenly seems a little less confident about his present than a second ago. But before his sister is allowed to answer, his eyes dart up and he winces when he notices the sun's position.

"Drat, look at us just standing around here, we don't have much time! We might have to take those tight shortcuts..."

"Maybe we won't have to if you just grab onto the piano, Ilya..."

"Right, yes!" he squares his shoulders, quickly stepping over to take the lead in the piano-carrying assignment. Once they both get a secure hold on the instrument again, they lift it up and start walking through the streets.

In this situation getting some surprised stares from people is inevitable, but Julian is not concerned with that at all. Instead, he keeps glancing up, clearly stressing over whether they'll be able to make it to the shop and carry the gift inside in time, before Rowan returns from the palace.

He glances behind briefly to notice that Malak is still comfortably rested atop Portia's shoulder. Then he speaks up, slight concern apparent in his voice. "Malak, friend, do you think you could check up on Rowan? Er, just to make sure that he's not going to be inconveniently punctual."

The bird seems mildly inconvenienced at the fact that he has to leave his place snuggled into Portia's soft hair but doesn't need much more convincing. Leaving some stray feathers behind, he takes off into the air. Without the ravens frequent croaking, there falls a silence between the siblings. Portia notices Julian's tense shoulders and can't resist to tease him a bit.

"...You know, maybe he will think you're a snob for the ivory keyboard."

"Pasha, don't stress me out!" he yells back at her, trying to hold back a smile at the sound of her jesting giggle.

~~~

While in the air, Malak obediently stays in pursuit of Rowan to distract him if needed, but shortly after spotting him on his way out of the palace, he notices the man seemingly taking the scenic route anyway. Hopping his way along the roofs, the raven notices him stop somewhere in the corner of the town square.

Hugging his knees to his chest, Rowan stares down at particularly stout, shiny beetle. His familiar jumps towards it again but he stops her with an index finger, poking her away.

"I told you it's too fat for you to eat. I don't want you to choke, sweetheart."

A grumpy screech.

"...I'm not going to cut it into pieces either. There are people here."

Another screech.

"What? I'm not tempting you! Can't I just stare at a bug in peace for a moment?" the tension between his brows increases a little as he keeps his eyes on the beetle "I'm not nervous anymore, I just need a second, okay?"

Bluebell hops forward and flops onto her back, trying to distract Rowan.

"Your little baby tantrum won't fix anything, you know."

The magpie seems offended now. She opens her beak threateningly...

"No, hey, don't you dare do that-"

A series of deafening screeches tear through the square as Bluebell tries to put a stop to Rowan's overthinking in her own way. He scoops her up from the ground and starts shushing her frantically.

"Stop screaming! We can go to the shop, you can take the stupid beetle, just don't make a scene!"

She stops immediately and wriggles out of his grasp to pick the beetle up by one skinny, squirming leg. It makes Rowan frown a little.

"...Just make sure to chew it well, please." he mutters and finally continues walking.

~~~

Already inside the shop, the Devoraks try to carry the piano up the stairs and not fall to their deaths in the process. A firm boot planted on the creaking step, Julian pushes forward as Portia leads the way, carefully climbing backwards.

"Just a few more Pasha, you've got this..." he reassures and angles his head so that he can see the short corridor the staircase leads to.

With a series of collective labored groans they manage to pull the piano onto the top floor before almost collapsing against it.

"Now that's a workout! Gosh, I barely feel my calves... And hands... And..." Portia trails off, raising her hand to pull her damp with sweat hair away from her face.

"I think I was seconds away from breaking my spine there..." Julian gasps and quickly pulls his gloves off of his hands, throwing them onto the piano "Just one more... Curve... I swear I'll get you such a nice thank you gift, you're the best sister in the whole wide world..." he seems to be getting a little teary-eyed but he quickly composes himself for the sake of the mission.

Portia seems to nod acknowledingly at her brother's emotional speech as she tilts her head to look downstairs at the sound of slight tapping "I think Malak's back..."

Julian turns around and observes as the raven wanders into the shop through the back door, his talons clicking against the wooden floor. He caws a few times which makes Julian grimace.

"Alright, I have no idea what that meant but I will assume that Rowan is already near... Are you okay to keep going, Pasha?"

She gives him a quick thumbs up and shakes her hands off, then grabs onto the piano as if she didn't just drag a half a ton instrument up some very steep stairs. Carrying it into the bedroom doesn't take near as much work as all the previous routes but once it's sitting in it's designated place, the siblings just slide down to sit on the floor for a short moment.

"You were right, you're always right, I wouldn't have managed without you, Pasha..." Julian weeps out and quickly pulls her into a hug.

"Yes, you would've been dead a hundred times over if it weren't for me." she wraps her arms around him with a grin, feeling just a little lightheaded from all the carrying she did today "I should get going, don't wanna disturb you loverboys." she snorts and pokes at her brother's waist.

"Ah, allow me to escort you then, dear sister!" he gets to his feet—his back cracking loudly—and upon wiping a stray tear from his eye, he pulls her up by the forearms "Good to stand?"

Portia nods. It's a careful walk back down, both of their legs are still quite wobbly after the endeavor. Upon opening the door for her sister, Julian is surprised to find a spooked Rowan on the steps just outside. He staggers back a bit as it suddenly opens.

"Oh, Portia...? What are you doing here?" he asks with growing worry on his face at her disheveled state.

She just smiles and dives in for a hug, making the magpie on his shoulder startle and fly up to the rafters instead "All will make sense in a jiffy! Enjoy your date!" with one last squeeze, Portia takes off, turning around to wave goodbye.

Locking eyes with Rowan, Julian promptly pulls him inside and up into his arms with a beaming smile "Lover, you're here at last!"

"Julian-! I wanted to- Why... Why is your shirt soaked...?" Rowan stares at him with a confused expression, his feet still awkwardly dangling above the ground as his partner holds him.

"Ahaha, I promise to freshen up before our dinner... But what were you going to say?" Julian inquires with a smile and sets him down gently.

"I, uh, wanted to give you my present first because I thought about it way too much and... Just wanted to get that off my chest, you know? Is that okay?" Rowan squeezes Julian's hands gently, looking up at him with an unsure smile.

"Yes, more than okay! I'm dying to see what you thought of."

"Should we go upstairs-?"

"No! Not... Not yet. We, er, can go sit down in the back room, if you'd like."

Rowan widens his eyes with surprise again but doesn't mind going along with the idea. Once they're seated next to each other, he speaks up again "Before you see the gift, I just wanted to say that... Even though we already had that conversation about whether we ever want to take our relationship to the 'next stage' and came to an agreement, I still wanted you to have some kind of confirmation, I guess... I know how important that is for you and I really wanted you to know that I'm very, very serious about this, so..." with one trembling hand and a soft sniff, he fishes out a small pouch out of his vest's pocket and unties the thin string around it. He can feel Julian's eye boring into him as he works on opening it.

"...Hold out your hand, please."

Julian obeys and gives him his hand, palm facing up. His smile is bright with anticipation until Rowan twists his hand gently and takes it into his own instead. A shiny, sliver ring comes into his view, with what seems to be a small, green gemstone embedded in the middle. His jaw drops wordlessly as his partner slides it onto his finger. He inhales a bit before Rowan stops him.

"Don't say anything yet! Just a second!" he quickly reveals a second, matching ring, with the same design as the first one, but the colors seem to be different. It's gold with a red gemstone. Rowan holds it up to the one that's already on Julian's hand.

"These represent us, see? I had the gemstones switched so that the green reminds you of me but you can still wear silver. Ah, and- And you don't have to worry about your gloves either! Yours is actually adjustable so- You can wear it whenever you want!" he raises his eyes to check on his partner's reaction and his nervous smile softens when he sees some tears already streaming down his face, along with a huge grateful smile. Julian takes it upon himself to take the matching ring and slide it onto Rowan's finger before pulling him into a very tight hug.

"God, you really thought of everything... Thank you, love, they're so beautiful-" he voice cracks just a little before he buries his face in Rowan's hair, who's already exhaling in relief because the gift did turn out to be a success.

"There's just one more thing, actually." Rowan gently dries Julian's teary cheeks and makes him look down at their hands again "I'll let you do the honors. Touch one of the stones, hm?"

Once he gently taps his own ring, the other one lights up in a soft glow. It makes Julian gasp softly "This is the single most romantic thing you've ever done, I'm pretty sure."

"I can think of a few more... And it's a simple enchantment, really..." Rowan mumbles with a shy smile, still observing the rings that are finally in their rightful places.

"I'd love to just stare at these forever but... Now I really want you to see what I got for you. You're going to love it." he lowers his head to leave a sweet kiss on Rowan's lips before helping him to his feet.

They walk up the stairs together until Julian covers Rowan's eyes in front of the entrance to their bedroom. It makes Rowan tilt his head in confusion a little.

"Just keep walking, darling, I've got you."

"Yes, okay..."

They stop in the middle of the room and Julian makes Rowan face the direction of his gift.

"Are you ready?"

"I hope I am." Rowan answers with a small chuckle. When Julian's hands drop from his eyes to his shoulders, his eyes settle on the piano at last.

His reaction is a little delayed, but once it kicks in, it's nothing like Julian's controlled few sobs. He bites down on his lower lip and absolutely breaks down. The thick tears streaming down his eyes make it hard to keep his eyes on the piano. It makes Julian worried for a split moment.

"Er, these are happy tears, yes? You haven't given up on the art of music, right?" he asks and steps in to take Rowan's face into his hands as he keeps sobbing loudly. He only manages to nod firmly and pull him into a hug to keep crying into his shirt.

"A whole fucking piano... You're absolutely insane..."

"Now, there's the reaction I was waiting for! I was a tad worried that you were just pretending to like it." he remarks cheekily and runs his fingers through Rowan's hair gently, "I should mention that I couldn't decide on what little bench I should get to go along with it so we can go buy one tomorrow, if you'd like. There's a ton of colors of the cushioning to choose from, apparently."

"Damn it, I should've bought you a vielle instead... We could've been playing a duet right now..." Rowan weeps, attempting to dry his face while the tears just keep flowing.

"Oh we'll play many duets yet, dear. And anyway, you can get one for me on our next anniversary."

"And let me guess, to upstage the piano you'll get me a boat next year...?"

"Oh shush, don't spoil it!" Julian rolls his eyes playfully "We'll have time to talk about the future during our dinner which we don't want to be late to, eh?"

"Yeah, future... We should start getting ready." Rowan wipes is eyes into his sleeve and pulls Julian's face down gently to kiss him "Happy anniversary. I love you."

"I love you too, Rowan. Happy anniversary."

———

according to my screentime app, i spent 2 hours on this yesterday ALONE and almost 12 hours in general during the past 2 weeks. waow❤️ i have a drive

AND FUCKING TUMBLR POSTED THIS WHEN I WAS CLICKING "SAVE AS DRAFT" I SWEAR I'M GOING TO GO ON A RAMPAGE

[withlovewriting]

All I Ever Knew, Only You 17: Dinner and Diatribes

Chapter Seventeen.

The years wore on and changed my heart, The leading role, for a smaller part, Now I bear little resemblance to the king I once was, I bear little resemblance to the king I could become, Maybe paper is paper, maybe kids will be kids, But Lord, I wanna remember how to feel like I did, I set out to rule the world, With only a paper shield, and a wooden sword

Summary: Hawkins was your typical quaint, mid-western town where nothing ever happened. People were born here, lived their entire lives within the town limits, and eventually died here, peacefully in their sleep. But one cold November evening in 1983 would change everything.

Despite a child with psychokinetic abilities and ravenous monsters that lacked faces, stranger things had definitely happened in the small town in Indiana. One of them being your reluctant and slightly imposed friendship with Hawkins High’s own King Bee, Steve Harrington.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader (eventual)

Words: 3,138

Chapter Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of past childhood trauma, Mr. Harrington makes an appearance and I believe that's a warning all of its own, mentions of abuse.

Series Warnings: Strong language, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drug use, canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, child abuse, slow burn, kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, I like to call it ‘two idiots who begrudgingly befriend each other only to realize… ‘wait a damn minute…’, eventual sexual content, canon-typical time-period bullshit. 18+. Minors DNI.

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Taglist: @kezibear

Chapter Seventeen: Dinner and Diatribes

“This is stupid,” the boy grumbled, closing his math book, “Mr. Mundy hates my guts. I’m never gonna pass the final.”

“Maybe he hates you because you stroll in late to almost all his classes?” You sighed, flicking through the magazine you’d found on Steve’s bedside table. Somehow you believed a dirty magazine would’ve been more interesting than the stupid car one you were currently reading.

Scoffing, Steve turned from his seat at his desk just to glare at you. He hadn’t been late to that many classes, had he? “You could be a little more supportive, you know?”

Cocking a brow, your eyes remained on the sport’s magazine, voice a little too monotonous for the boy’s liking, “Go Harrington, you can do it.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve returned his attention to his closed textbook, deciding that was where he would focus his glare. After one too many of his sighs, you glanced up with an acidic remark ready to roll off your tongue but it was quickly swallowed down when you saw the genuine distress that covered his features.

Leaning back on his uncomfortable desk chair, the boy’s eyes were squeezed shut as he ran his hands through his hair, pulling at the roots a little. Even Steve knew that his chances of graduating this year were on thin ice, and the chances of him getting into any of the colleges he’d begrudgingly applied to just to pacify his father? Near impossible.

So if Steve had to be stuck in Hawkins next year, he needed to make sure it wasn’t repeating another year of high school. He wasn’t going to be a super senior like that Munson kid. No way in hell.

Chewing your bottom lip as you studied him for a moment, you tossed the magazine haphazardly onto the small table, “C’mon then, let me see.”

Steve’s eyes shot open, his brow furrowed as he slowly pushed up from his chair, grabbing the textbook and placing it in front of you before joining you on the bed where you were sitting with crossed legs.

“You’re gonna think I’m an idiot,” the boy sighed, knee-deep into his pity party for one.

“You’re not an idiot, Steve,” you mumbled, looking over the page he’d opened to, ignoring the feeling of his eyes softening as they peered down at you, “Math is hard, and this shit is totally pointless.”

“God, it is, isn’t it?” A small huff of laughter fell from the boy’s lips, and Steve finally began to feel a little less stupid, “I mean, when am I ever going to need to know what X or Y equals? That’s the alphabet, and I already know that.”

This time, you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep your words at bay. You didn’t think Steve was stupid by any means, but school definitely wasn’t his strong suit, “It’s algebra, actually. But yeah, whatever.”

Steve leaned over your shoulder as your eyes scanned the page, “And science? I mean, I don’t think I’m gonna be going to Med school any time soon, so do I really need to know how cells-”

“Steven?”

The door swung open, and a tall, slender woman appeared behind it, causing you both to leap apart, the math book fumbling to the floor with a loud thump.

“Mom,” Steve’s voice was a little squeaky, and under any other circumstances, you’d have laughed out loud at it, but the woman’s slightly confused glance your way caused it to die in your throat, “I uh… I didn’t hear you come home.”

“Book club ended early, so I thought I’d head out and get started on dinner before your father got home.” The woman’s eyes turned toward you, a tight smile forced onto her lips, “Who’s this?”

Steve knew damn well that his mother knew who you were, but the boy introduced you regardless, and you sent the woman a short nod as you stood fiddling with your hands behind your back.

Mrs Harrington’s eyes roamed over you slowly, causing you to swallow down a lump in your throat before she finally returned her attention toward her son, her smile much less forced, “No girls over when we’re not home, you know that, Steven.”

“She was just-”

“-I was just going,” you scrambled to grab your shoes, debating whether to shove your feet into them now, or rush out and wait until you were a safe distance away.

You were almost certain that Mrs. Harrington was somewhat aware of her son’s reputation, and that you weren’t the first — nor would you be the last — girl to occupy his room without parental supervision, despite it being with innocent intentions. Either way, being lumped in with all of Steve’s previous conquests made you feel more uncomfortable than you were willing to admit.

“You should stay for dinner.”

The words seemingly caught both you and Steve off guard, both freezing in your reactions, and for a second you were certain Steve was going to give himself a bald spot if he kept tugging at his hair.

Before you could respond, or rather, vehemently decline her offer, a shout from downstairs distracted you all, Steve’s father entering the house and calling out to his wife. Turning back to you once more, Mrs. Harrington’s tone left no room for disagreement, “We’re having Chicken Potpie, I hope you like it.”

And then she was gone. Long, lean legs took her back down the stairs, and toward her husband.

“I should really get going,” you mumbled, grabbing your jacket that you’d thrown onto the bottom of Steve’s bed before making yourself comfortable, silently demoting Steve to his desk.

“You don’t wanna stay?”

Hobbling, one shoe shoved in your sneaker as you fought with your jacket, you shook your head, “Not hungry.”

Steve stared at you, deadpan, when your stomach growled into the silence of his room causing you too, to stop.

Traitor.

“You sound hungry.”

“I have my own homework to do,”

“It’s Saturday tomorrow.”

“And I have the open shift at the arcade, so I really need to get an early night-”

Steve made his way over to you, grabbing at your jacket and pulling it back off, and you realized that he must have inherited his hardheadedness from his mother, “An hour, two at most. I’ll even drive you home. Please?”

If the boy’s eyes didn’t resemble those of a sad puppy dog, you’d have marched right on past him and his parents. Instead, you found yourself kicking off the one sneaker you’d managed to squish your foot into, a frown pulling at your brows.

“Fine, but you need to… C’mere,” you ran your hands over his hair, flattening it down a little in hopes of soothing the strands pointing in awkward directions due to his own hands, “You look like you’ve stuck a fork in an electrical socket.”

Steve’s breath hit your face in short, shallow puffs of air as the boy remained still, allowing you to sort out his hair, despite the fact he really didn’t like people touching it. He reasoned that by now most of his hair product was out considering he’d run his hands through it multiple times in an attempt to force something from his textbook into his brain.

“You ready, Harrington?” You asked, one brow cocked as your eyes met his, hands falling back to your side, “Hey, Earth to Steve?”

“Yeah, no, I’m, uh… I’m ready. Let’s go.”

It was only when Steve led you to the stairs that he forewarned you about his father, “Look, he’s a grade-A asshole, so just… try not to take anything he says too personally.”

“Well, if what he says is personal, how could I not take it personally?”

“Just don’t play into it, alright? He talks a lot of shit for someone who’s barely around.”

The atmosphere between Steve and his father was palpable, tension clear on the younger boy's face as soon as his father had started discussing his day, all too aware of the berating that would soon follow.

No drive, he’d said, lacking any future goals and destined to be a bum, as if Steve hadn’t heard it all before. In fact, Steve found it hard to remember a time when his father had anything positive to say about, or to him.

“College isn’t the be-all and end-all.”

The words slipped from your mouth, tongue apparently working faster than your brain. You heard the commotion around you come to a sudden and jeering halt, and you found that you had also frozen, fork gripped in your hand stopping mid-way back to your plate, as if you couldn’t believe your own impudent behavior as a guest at someone’s family dinner.

“And what are your plans for the future?” Mr. Harrington’s tone felt all too condescending, but apparently, the man knew better than to outright call out your behavior. But you knew what he meant. If he was almost foaming at the mouth with the prospect of his only son not going to some prestigious college and joining a boy’s club fraternity, you could only imagine how lowly he thought of you.

“I haven't really thought about it yet,” you lied, eyes dropping down toward the mixture of peas and carrots that you were pushing around on your plate until the loud scoff from across the table caught your attention.

Mr. Harrington continued to eat his dinner as Steve's mother cleared her throat, hand grasping for her wine glass as she focused her own attention on her son, “Steven will figure it out. If all else fails, he can come join you at the”

“It's an important part of life, and I don't offer hand-outs. He'll be stuck in an entry-level job for the rest of his life without a proper education.”

Steve wondered if his father really had forgotten that it was, in fact, his own father who had secured a job for him. Not that he had any intention of working under his father.

“He could take a gap year,” Steve's mother commented, her smile tight as she stared down her husband, embarrassment evident on her face, “I've heard they're becoming all the rage. A year to work on himself and-”

“And what? Drain our savings instead?”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you chanced a glimpse at Steve who sat beside you, silent and still and… so un-Steve-like. Like a small child who had heard the whole spiel before. Reaching your hand under the table, you clamped it around Steve's, resting on his thigh. Although he timidly turned to silently question you, you had already returned your focus to the man across the table, instead giving Steve’s hand a gentle squeeze of acknowledgment.

You turned back toward Mr. Harrington, brows pulled together and eyes full of disdain, “Have you ever asked Steve what he thinks? What he wants?”

“He's a teenage boy, there's only one thing he wants and it has nothing to do with his education-”

“Sweetheart,” Mrs. Harrington's stern tone shut the whole conversation down, “would you be a dear and help me collect the plates?”

Steve nodded, your hand dropping from his as he stood from the table. Pushing your own chair back, you quickly grabbed your own plate, “I'll help.”

Following Steve to the kitchen, a plate in either hand, you placed them down a little too harshly on the side of the sink, ignoring the clashing of cutlery, “Jesus, you weren't joking about him.”

Steve remained silent as he filled the sink with hot water, taps squeaking slightly when he turned them off and began to scrape the scraps of food into the bin. Taking a plate from the small pile he had begun to stack, you continued, “I mean, where does he get off talking to you like that? Talking about you like that? You weren't joking when you said he was an asshole. And your Mom? Just sitting there while he-”

“Stop,” Steve's words came out much harsher than he'd originally intended for them to, but he had barely uttered a word in the last 30 minutes and felt like he had no control over his vocal cords, “He's an asshole, I know. Believe me. But I don't need you making it worse, alright? He does this shit every time he's home. And my Mom… It just doesn't help, alright?”

Steve swallowed, a lump of guilt already crawling its way up his throat. As a child, Steve would yearn for his father to come back from a business trip early, to spend the evening with him and his mother enjoying a family meal. But now? Now Steve craved the silence of his empty home, his mother following after her husband on yet another out-of-town trip, the same thing she'd been doing since she found a lipstick stain on the collar of one of his shirts.

Taking a step toward Steve, you took the plate from his grip, dropping it gently into the soapy water. Caramel-colored eyes looked everywhere but at you, brows puckered together, as if he was preparing himself for you to blow up at him.

And god, did a part of you want to. You wanted to scoff, and huff, and tell him he was ungrateful and that you were only trying to do what even his own mother didn't have the gall to do. But you didn't. Because in that moment, King Steve sort of made sense. You couldn't — and wouldn't — defend his actions during his reign, but it definitely made a lot more sense. Steve was lonely and attention starved, and if the only people he could seek solace in were two assholes that made everyone’s lives a misery, as far as Steve was concerned, so be it.

“Okay, fine. I'll keep my mouth shut. But just know, it physically pains me to be in his presence.”

Steve sent you a small smile as you returned to washing the dishes, passing them to him one by one. A moment of silence passed between you both, only the sounds of splashing water and cutlery clinking against plates disturbing the peace.

“Thank you for tonight, by the way. Studying, and staying for dinner.” “Yeah, well, I'm not sure that jumping out of your window wasn't the better option but it's been… okay.”

“Just okay?” Steve huffed a laugh, trying to keep up the pretense of being offended, “That Chicken Pot Pie is my mother's famous recipe. She makes it all the time. All. The. Time.”

Scrunching your nose up as you fished around for any cutlery left in the soapy water, “Yeah, well… That was the highlight of my night.”

After an incredibly awkward goodbye from Mrs. Harrington — her husband had already taken his leave to his office whilst you and Steve were washing up — which included her cutting up a slice of pie for you to take home to your mother, you packed up your belongings in Steve's room before the boy drove you home.

As he pulled up toward your house, you saw the curtains twitch as the headlights dimmed, a sure sign that your mother was still awake and somewhat sober.

Grabbing your bag and the Tupperware of pie that had all but been pushed onto you, you turned toward Steve, “Thanks for the ride. And I know you don't wanna talk about it, but your dad's wrong. You don't need a college degree to prove you're someone. Not to him, and definitely not to yourself.”

Clearing his throat, Steve sent you a tight-lipped smile, waiting patiently as you made your way safely into your home. Once the door closed, Steve’s eyes screwed tight enough that he started to see multicolored swirls, his knuckles pushing against his eyelids. Releasing a long, deep sigh, Steve began his drive back home, knowing nothing good would be waiting for him.

“Who drove you home?”

Despite knowing your mother was up and waiting for you, her gruff voice caught you off-guard, your fingers gripping the Tupperware box tightly. Once you noted she didn’t seem all too angry or drunk, you shrugged off your jacket and shoes and made your way toward the small kitchen where you placed the container in the all-but-empty refrigerator.

“Just a friend. I was helping him study.”

Sitting next to your mother on the old, worn sofa, you watched as she lit a cigarette, taking a deep inhale or two before passing it toward you, “I don’t like that you’re friends with boys. Hanging out with them this late, studying… Late-night drives. I was young once, I know how teenage boys' minds work.”

Blowing out a large cloud of smoke, you shrugged and handed the cigarette back to her, “It’s not like that. Not with Steve.”

“The Harrington’s boy?” Your mother questioned, her tone slightly softer as her interest was piqued, and you could only pray that her years of struggling with sobriety had at least spared her from hearing about the boy’s reputation.

“That’s the one. I uh… his mother invited me to stay for dinner. I have leftovers for you in the kitchen.”

Scoffing, your mother stubbed out the last of the cigarette onto the small end table, licking her dry lips, “I know what that woman says about me. Let me guess, she invited you in, showered you with hot, home-cooked food and compliments before bombarding you with questions? Trying to get any crumb of information so she could go around town telling that hateful gaggle of women-”

“I didn’t tell her anything. She didn’t ask, but… I wouldn’t have told her anyway.” Watching your mother with bated breath, you watched as her eyes squinted slightly, almost as if she were waiting for the other shoe to drop. Once her face softened, she moved forward, taking your face into her hands.

Your heart was pounding, awaiting her next move. She was unpredictable, and that’s what frightened you the most. At best, she could ignore your entire existence, and at worst… Well, you’d be turning up to work tomorrow sporting a black eye.

“That’s my girl,” She smiled, her cold, thin hand tapping the side of your face before releasing you to stand, “I have work tomorrow morning, so I’ll be taking the car.”

Once your mother closed her bedroom door, you finally released the breath that was burning your lungs from the inside out and made your way into your bedroom. Shuffling onto your stomach, you pushed your duvet out of the way as you struggled to reach the small tin under your bed, only standing up once you’d successfully retrieved it, only to be met with annoyance when you opened it and found it empty.

You’d have to make a stop at Forest Hills Trailer Park after work.

[unreliablesnake]

Help (Miguel O'Hara x reader)

Summary: After his sabotaged attempt to fix things, Miguel is on the run. He goes to you for a night, just until he makes a plan to make things right.

Note: Just a short something I wanted to write. This is an “x reader” story despite both of them being idiots in love who just won't be honest with each other.

Your phone began to ring and vibrate on your desk, and when you looked at the screen, you saw it was your neighbor, a middle-aged man who loved to complain about everything. When you turned off the music you'd been listening to, your ears picked up another sound, a loud banging that came from your front door. Was he already there? This man was a nightmare.

“Hello, James,” you said into the phone in the sweetest tone you could manage. “Was the music too loud?”

“No, not this time. But I guess you couldn't hear that loud noise coming from the hallway. There's this creepy guy who's been trying to get you to open your door for the past five minutes. Be careful, he looks like some drug addict,” he added, sounding genuinely worried about your safety.

Who the hell could that be? “Thanks for the warning. I'll peek out to see who it could be. Thanks for the warning. Have a good evening.”

With a sigh, you picked up a pair of scissors and made your way to the door with your phone in your other hand in case you had to call the police. You cautiously looked out the peephole and the man you saw standing there made you gasp.

“Jesus, Miguel,” you said once you opened the door and faced your colleague with a worried look on your face. He looked disheveled, distressed, and generally in a bad shape. You grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, putting the items in your hands on the small table beside the door before turning back to him. “What the hell happened to you?”

Instead of answering, he went to the wall in the living room to push a few buttons and roll down the blind of the window. You didn't understand why he did that, but once they were down, he took off his sunglasses and revealed a pair of red eyes. You wondered if he had suddenly decided to wear colored contacts, but then he opened his mouth a little as if he was about to say something, and you noticed he had fangs.

“My eyes have been really sensitive to light,” he explained in the end as he sat down on the couch. “I know I've changed a lot, but it's… I don't… You're the only one I can trust right now.”

Nodding, you sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of him and took his hands in yours. “Why don't you go back to the beginning and tell me what the hell is going on with you?”

“I wanted to resign from the project I've been working on, but Stone didn't let me, instead he tricked me into taking Rapture,” he explained hurriedly.

“You're joking, right? That thing is highly–”

“Trust me, I know,” Miguel cut in as he buried his face in his hands. “I tried to fix things, but they didn't let me. Delgado found out and sabotaged the process. My DNA changed, and now here I am with fangs, talons, and light-sensitive red eyes, and other abilities I don't even fully understand yet. I think they're looking for me, I hoped you could let me hide here for a day or two.”

You sat on the couch next to him and put a hand on his back supportively. “You can stay here as long as you want,” you assured him.

“I need to do something, I can't just sit back and hope it will go away. It won't, I know that.”

He sounded sad and confused, and it broke your heart. The two of you had been close at Alchemax, with you bringing him late lunch when you heard he hadn't eaten anything all day, or with him keeping you company when you were among the last people in the building late at night.

But you barely met outside of work, you didn't even know he knew where you lived. And now here he was, asking for your help. Who were you to make him leave? He had been nothing but kind to you in the past, pushing him away now would have been the cruelest thing to do.

And in all honesty, you didn't want to hurt him. You liked him, maybe a little too much, but you weren’t about to take advantage of the situation. The best you could do now was being a supportive friend. “Just make sure you have a plan, okay?” you asked him. When he looked at you, you pulled your lower lip between your teeth. Damn, those red eyes saw right through you. “Don’t do anything in a rush. Like I said, you can stay as long as you want. Tell me how I can help and I will.”

Miguel was watching you with wide eyes, and you didn’t really understand it at first. But then he pulled you into a hug and placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he said quietly. “But I don’t want you to be involved in this, I’ll be gone in the morning.”

“I’ll get the spare room ready for you. But first, we order food because I’m starving,” you said with a smile as you began to stand up.

“Thank you,” Miguel said when he caught your hand and kept you back. “I don’t know how I’ll repay it. I show up out of nowhere and you help me without asking questions.”

You nodded with a warm smile. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

He gulped as he thought about your words. “Right. Friends,” he said, and you couldn’t really understand why he said it like that.

But you didn’t waste your time trying to figure it out, instead you ordered some food and went to the spare room to make his bed. Miguel seemed to be lost in his thoughts so you didn’t want to bother him, and he also seemed like he could use some sleep. The two of you quickly ate the dinner when it arrived, then you said goodnight and went to your bedroom to sleep.

By the time you woke up the next morning, Miguel was already gone. The only trace of him ever being there was a message he left for you, in which he thanked you for your help and promised to stay away until he fixed things. You knew it would be hard to be in the dark about him, but if he thought it would be for the best, you had no choice but to respect his decision.

[vrepit-salt]

anyways domestic & romantic MXES headcanons bc I love him. good evening.

MXES x gn! Reader

• So for funsies, let's say he acquires a way for him to exist in the physical world. That can be a robotic body, or another physical manifestation. How you interpret how that came to be, or how he exists irl is up to you. You think he's attractive regardless got dam <3

• He's more sentient than you realized at first. The longer you're with him, the more he reveals his emotions to you.

• He is overwhelmed upon seeing the natural world. Every plant or bug or creature he comes across is met with intense curiosity, and he researches everything he discovers. Everything is so green and full of life and movement. You caught him standing still, absolutely entranced when a small yellow butterfly landed on his hand. He's never been the same since. He also likes fireflies especially. He pets every cat that comes up to him.

• He has a supportive and quiet presence if you have to study/work on something/etc. He'll sit close to you and work on coding, conjuring up the 538th security node for your place or researching stuff he finds interesting (he totally has like 400 tabs open). He likes to stay busy, so he'll always find something to do, especially if it means he gets to vibe with you.

• He's curious about your well being. If you get sick, injured or aren't feeling well for whatever reason, he's basically getting his Google MD to figure out how to help you.

• MXES often is non verbal, but you understand his intentions and thoughts regardless. He uses his hands and gestures a lot to communicate, his eyes are really expressive too. You're mesmerized by them sometimes.

• When be tilts his head at you, you can't help but melt a little inside and find him adorable. You hate it now, because he's figured out that's how he can convince you to do something.

• Likes to have things in order, so when you come home from class or work, you find your place cleaned and organized often. You tell him he doesn't have to do that, but he insists. On your days off, you both work on chores with music gently playing throughout the place.

• HE LIKES HIS EARS BEING CARESSED, HE'LL ABSOLUTELY DIE IF YOU DO THAT WHEN YOU'RE CUDDLING HIM.

• If you've had a stressful day or need to vent, he's very good at listening. He'll sit in front of you at eye level and his full attention is on you. He doesn't speak, and lets you spill your heart out. He's receptive to the way your tone changes, or if you say something particularly distressing. You notice his ears move or perk up with your words.

• If you get too worked up and start crying, he's instantly holding you. He rests his head on yours and remains silent.

• When you're away, he's always messaging you to see how you're doing. He sends you random memes. He also definitely sends like 700 heart emojis. He also sends this emoji a lot -> 🤨. This idiot either speaks normally or in hieroglyphs. ">//types like this."

• He has a hard time relaxing or powering down, since he was so used to essentially always working to keep the security running at the pizzaplex. He believes if he lets his guard down, something bad will happen. You work with him on that.

• Still kind of paranoid because of his experience at the pizzaplex. It's such a fundamental part of him to try to secure, contain and protect. If someone unexpectedly knocks at your door, or sends you weird messages, etc., he's scoping out the situation to look for any threats. Rest in peace the scammers who try to scam you.

• Likes to hold you close when you lay down. He's kinda clingy, and likes to grab onto you like a plushie. You're okay with this, but you have to peel him off you if you need to move or get up.

• definitely purrs a little.

• He powers down and recharges in fragments so sometimes he's up at weird hours.

• If you drive, he'll try to accompany you. You have to get tinted windows so people don't look at your car weird. He'll sit in the passenger seat and ask about passing shops or buildings. He loves it when you're driving and singing along to the music, he just stares in amusement. He remembers your favorite songs and makes a playlist for you.

• If he notices you're falling asleep at your computer, he'll discreetly turn it off remotely to force you to take a break.

• Totally blue screens irl if you kiss him on his nose. I don't make the rules.

• Can he cook? Not really. Will he try? Yes. Did he accidentally set a pot on fire once and freaked out and refused to turn on the stove for 2 weeks? Perhaps.

• Is keenly aware of all the recent news or updates regarding fazbear entertainment or the demise of the pizzaplex. The mimic went missing after MXES was taken offline by Cassie, so he stays informed. He wish he could do more. He feels guilty about it.

• Hackerman 3000. You'll have the most robust security system ever. Not even the FBI can track you down.

• Becomes a flustered mess when you kiss him or show him romantic affection. His ears droop down all the way and he essentially glitches out. You have to ensure you haven't broken him. lord help him he's got it bad.

• He enjoys looking outside and listening to the rain. He'll often just sit by the window and watch any lightning in the sky. He makes note of how it resembles parts of his arms.

Gotdamn this is so long im so sorry goodnight lmao <3

[starz-saintz]

You're My Best Friend

Baaabe/Angel

baaabe (he/him, referred to as bonnie)

angel (she/her, referred to as reverie)

cw: alcohol, swears

word count: ~700 words

Friday nights were meant for debriefing. Bonnie would call Reverie, and they’d go over their weeks, any gossip from coworkers, or pack drama they witnessed. Face-to-face debriefs were serious, so when Bonnie called and asked her to meet him at a downtown bar, Reverie made sure to attend.

“See ya, baby. Bonnie said Asher was gonna pick us up, so I’ll see you later,” Reverie said, leaning into her mate’s car.

“Asher’s picking you up? No chance. I’ll see you when you’re ready,” David scoffed.

“Mh… Whoever is here first, that’s whose car I’m leaving in.”

“I’ll be here. Have fun, Angel.”

“I will, Davey.”

She watched his car disappear into the night, wondering what Bonnie could possibly need to discuss.

The bar was small and dimly lit, it stunk of melancholy and despair. Bonnie had recommended it often, raving about its charm. Reverie felt her shoes stick to the floor with each step, and the shadows in the corners seemed almost alive. Bonnie was already at the counter, talking to the bartender.

“Hi, Bunny!” Reverie greeted, her voice cheerful.

Bonnie, looking a bit buzzed, embraced her. He took a sip of something fruity and gestured for her to sit.

“What can I get you, dear?” The bartender asked with a warm smile.

“Do you make Cosmopolitans?”

“Of course. I’ll bring that to you in just a moment.”

Reverie turned back to Bonnie, who was swirling a little pink drink around the glass, lost in thought. Bonnie had a tendency to overthink, and Reverie’s comforting presence was usually enough, though she struggled with the right words.

“How was your day?” Reverie asked.

“Good! I’m really hoping I’ll be on the day shift next week instead of night. I don’t wanna mess up my sleep schedule, y'know?”

“If what you say about that nepo baby is true, you might end up with a few night shifts,” Reverie warned.

“Gods, you’re right.”

Bonnie finished his drink just as the bartender returned with Reverie’s Cosmopolitan.

“Here’s your Cosmopolitan. Would you like a refill, Bon?” the bartender asked.

“No, but can I get an Old Fashioned?” Bonnie’s face turning just shy of flirtatious.

“Alright, but I’m cutting you off after your tenth,” the bartender said, giving Bonnie a pointed look.

“Come on, Nellie, don’t be all like that. I’m not some kinda drunk!” Bonnie protested.

Nellie sighed and took the cup, muttering, “One Old Fashioned coming up.”

Bonnie rolled his eyes and watched Reverie sip her drink. She had a specific order she always followed when drinking: Cosmo, Florida Sunrise, Bermuda Rose, virgin Shirley Temple, and Water. Bonnie thought it was a bit vanilla but appreciated her method.

“Why did you call me here? Are you alright?” Reverie asked.

Bonnie’s face dimmed a bit. He hesitated, then started, “I think I’m, like, totally wrecking Asher’s rep.”

Reverie’s brows furrowed. She hadn’t heard anything new about Bonnie or Asher. “Go on.”

“You know how we have our little spats?” Bonnie began, fidgeting with his glass. “Well, the latest one was overheard—like, eavesdropped on.”

“Shit. By who?”

“That's the thing! I don’t even know. Melanoia said she heard people talking about it and said they thought we were, like, super immature.”

“Wait—if Melanoia was there, couldn’t she just cloak and listen in? What’s with this ‘opposite side of the wall’ stuff?”

“Totally no clue. But now I’m worried that people think I’m, like, way worse than what they already say, and I don’t want to hurt Asher’s rep.”

Reverie’s expression softened as Bonnie’s distress became evident. He grabbed his drink, drained it, and looked on the verge of tears.

“I just... I love him so much. I don’t want to be the reason he’s judged any harder.”

“It’ll be okay,” Reverie said, taking his hands in hers. “Don’t let them change who you are. Our friendship is something special. If they’re so mature, they shouldn’t be bothered by us having fun. We shouldn’t let them affect that.”

Bonnie opened his mouth to protest but found no words. He simply nodded, a faint smile on his lips.

“You’re my best friend, Reverie.”

“I’m happy I met you, Bunny,” Reverie replied.

[starysky1289]

Toxic!Sorority!Vanessa X Reader. Breakup pt2

Part two to This FIC.

TW: Toxic relationship, manipulation, Abuse, Drug mention, Alcohol mention,Angst

It had been only a week sense you broke up with Vanessa, and you’d hadn’t seen her. But it felt like she was everywhere. She never showed up to any of the classes you shared, she was never around campus, she was never in the student building, but her presence felt heavy everywhere.

You spent most your time in your Dorm, when you weren’t in classes or getting food. Your Dorm was the only place you felt real safty. You had finally stood up to her, you weren’t taking her shit anymore, but you longed for her. You longed for her to hold your arm, her to call you pretty pet names and call you hers. You knew it was wrong, you knew she was bad, but something about it made you miss her.

There was a gentle knock on the door, before your roommate Stacie entered. She always had this calming aura about her that helped your relax. But this time she looked distressed, you could see it in her eyes. You quickly got up, holding her up, looked like she seen a ghost. You closed the door behind her, sitting her down on her bed.

“ Stacie, Stacie what’s wrong? “

“ I-I was..jumped…when I was leaving my class…three girls just started beating me, saying that it was from…h-her…”

You knew immediately what she meant, you only held her closer, keeping her head close to your chest. There was another knock on the door, this time it was more of a banging, with mixed laughter behind it.

“ Cmon Stacie! We’re not done yet! Get back out here! “

You quickly wrapped Stacie in a nearby blanket, pressing her forehead against yours to keep her distracted.

“ FUCK OFF. LEAVE US ALONE! “

“ did you hear that girls? She’s in there, hissing away from Nessas eyes. Let’s go tell her the news, she’ll be pleased to hear you haven’t killed your self yet. We’ll be back later Y/N!! “

Your heart raced. You close every window in the dorm, and turned off every light, the only one left was two small LED lights that hung at the edge of your beds, not bright enough to be noticed. This is what Vanessa ment, You’d never sleep in peace again, you were stuck. You could either live and cower in fear for your life, and give in and let Vanessa love you.

*~*

“ are you sure you don’t want me to come get you after your class Stacie? “

“ I’m positive, the last thing you need is Vanessa to find you. Hurry and get to your philosophy class, I’ll be safe. “

Stacie’s bruised were slightly better, she knew she had to keep going or else she’d fail. You hugged her gently, before making your way out of the dorm, making your way to your classroom. You settled into your seat, pulling out your note book and work. The professor started his lesson, and you’d go and write notes, answer questions excitedly, and doodle when you were listening. You revived a sudden notification from Stacie, she must of changed her mind. God you wish it was that.

You were sent a photo from her phone, all you saw was an ambulance, and a disturbing message.

“ you can come and meet with Vanessa before the end of the day, or when your little roomie comes back there won’t be anything left for the docs to save “

You panicked, shoving your stuff into your bag, immediately leaving the room.

“ Ms L/N! Where are you going! “

“ I’m sorry professor, but there’s an emergency! “

You ran out of the building, and only focused on getting to the frats neighborhood where the sorority was. You were running back to a trap, you knew it. But Stacie’s life was more important than anything else, even your own life. You skidded in front of the pink house, quickly knocking on the door. And low behold, Vanessa opened the door, her eyes staring down at you.

“ there’s my girl…”

“ WHAT DID YOU DO TO STACIE! “

“ all i did was what I had to. To get your attention. Come inside, let’s chat. “

You reluctantly followed her in, a few other girls sat in the living room, watching you go by. She sat you down at the kitchen island. She slid you over a High noon, before sitting across from you.

“ I’m not in the mood to drink. “

“ I know. But that’s the first thing you drank in this house. Same exact flavor too. I Remember these things about you y/n. “

She was right, it was the same size, drink, and flavor. You held it in your hand, sighing before looking back at her.

“ I also know how you’ve said you’d do anything for people you love. Rember when yiu got high off my stuff and you didn’t tell the campus police I was carrying anything? You could have told and we’d all be hauled away to jail, but you didn’t. You told me you loved me “

“ yeah….and..? “

“ don’t you love Stacie? You’d do anything for her? “

Small tears formed on your eyes and you nodded, you knew where she was going with this, and you couldn’t stop her. You wouldn’t even try.

“ then let’s make a deal y/n. If you come back to me, love me, be my girl again, I’ll never have Stacie hurt again. I won’t even have her removed as your roomate. And, after some well earned punishment, I’ll treat you better. “

She held your hand, and you silently cried, holding it tightly. You loved Stacie, you both thought you’d have a chance now, but you knew you couldn’t. You knew deep down Vanessa loved you, you had seen it. And you loved her. You had to do it.

“ y-you promise nessy…? “

“ I promise dove. Do I ever lie to you about things like this? “

You shook your head and she smirked, standing up to go comfort you. Leaning against your back and kissing your neck.

“ do we have a deal hun? “

“ y-yes….yes Vanessa. I love you…I-i do..I’m sorry I tried to leave you “

She clicked her tongue, you knew she was smiling like a hyena, but you didn’t wanna look. She kissed you gently, hugging you tighter.

“ oh…my poor girl..why don’t you stay the night hun…I’ll clean up all those tears..”

She lead you upstairs, pass the giggling girls. She let you go sit on the bed, as she closed and locked the door. She gave you the look you knew, she wasn’t going to let you go for hours.

*~*

A few days after the whole ordeal, Stacie was in a stable enough condition for you to visit her in the hospital. She was heavily bruised, and had stitches across her face. Vanessa let you go alone, she said it was part of her being nice.

“ y/n…”

“ Stacie….i went back to her, I’m so sorry. “

You wanted to sob, you wanted to crawl up with her and sob. But you’d give something away to the doctors. Stacie wasn’t disappointed, she was mad or anything.

“ I’m sorry. “

“ it’s not your fault..you really loved me..you had to let me go to keep me safe…”

“ she says she’ll still keep us roomates, and we can still hangout “

She held your hand, giving it a gentle kiss. You let only a few tears fall before wipping them away.

“ I love you Stacie. I’ll be back to see you tomorrow, ok? “

“ I love you too y/n…be safe..”

You left the room and the hospital, Vanessa was in her black SUV waiting for you. You sat in the passenger seat besides her and kissed her cheek before she drove off.

“ how is she? “

“ stable, and healing. She’ll be out in a few weeks. “

“ good! Im so happy your friend is ok. I love you y/n. “

You looked down at your wrist, the pink scrunchie lay on it again. You only smile and look back up at her. She was being better to you. Maybe this would be the change.

“ I-i love you too Vanessa “

“ good girl. Now let’s go get you something pretty for the party this weekend. “

Maybe.

[three--rings]

thought of a story that I haven't told that tumblr may enjoy.

So I majored in psychology in undergrad, right, and when you take psych classes they almost always require you to do a certain number of hours of being an experimental research subject, right, because professors have to publish and need someone they can force into their studies without paying, right?

And like that's fine if it's 4 hours for one class, but when you're doing an entire psych major in two years like I did, that's a LOT of hours of research studies.

And we all dreamt of getting in those fun social psych experiments where they fuck with your head, right? And not the ones where they make you sit in front of a laptop and do math for an hour. (They made me DO MATH Y'ALL. "This is an experiment in how well you learn under certain conditions." Conclusion: you suck at this.)

Anyway, you'd get funny things like one time I turned up on campus on a freaking SATURDAY for a study and sat around in a courtyard with like 30 other people while nothing happened and all of us talking about like "hey, uh, do you think THIS is the study? Like to see if we leave?" But no, just no one turned up for us and we didn't get our freaking hours.

But one time I DID end up in one of those freaky social psych studies. So to be fair, I had insider knowledge, because again, psych major. So I signed up intentionally to my social psych profs study. Hoping at least it wouldn't be math.

And I arrive and am greeted by...the TA for my social psych class wearing a fat suit.

It's like IDK April or something and Texas and 80+ degrees and she's in a long skirt and a sweatshirt. And also she's MY TA. I recognize her. I even say "Oh, hi!" like I would when seeing someone I know on campus. And she greets me like she vaguely recognizes me. But, normally she is not approximately 280-300lbs.

So, I'm, like REALLY REALLY sure it's a fat suit. Like....99.5% sure.

But not 100%.

And so what the FUCK do you SAY to THAT? Well, obviously you don't say FUCKING SHIT. You pretend nothing is fucking weird, right? Because the very, very small chance that you are WRONG and this isn't a normally thin girl in a fatsuit but a real person who is shaped like that is still...NOMINALLY THERE and OMG what if you comment on it and you're WRONG?

So I get ushered into this little room and shown a bunch of pictures of people and asked to rate them on various things like competency and attractiveness, this is normal social psych survey stuff, except I'm SURE the experiment is does the person in the room with you and their appearance change your ratings.

And the whole time I'm distracted as FUCK, cause I'm just sitting there thinking "am I wrong and this isn't my TA somehow? no, no, pretty much ALMOST certain I'm right...etc." And "why would anyone be wearing a sweatshirt in this weather/building if they WEREN'T wearing a fatsuit?"

But MAYBE the point of the experiment is "will this person call out an obvious fake fat person?" And should I do so or not? Is this social pressure to conform and not speak the truth I know? Should I say something? I, uh, may have had an unknown and untreated anxiety disorder at this point in my life so, yeah I'm LOSING MY MIND and probably acting like a FREAK.

So anyway, eventually I decide okay, obviously you can't say anything because yeah...but you will be debriefed once this is over and you'll FIND OUT THE TRUTH. You won't have this lingering doubt in your mind when this is over because they will debrief you.

If you don't know human research, debriefing is when, after all the experiment data collection is over, they inform the subject of what the topic of the research was and explain any tricks or deception or anything to them. (We played distracting music to see how you did on the test...) If there was any potential distress involved it should be dealt with by examiners, etc. Usually in practice you are handed a slip of paper that explains the purpose of the study and what you did.

Usually you don't care and barely read it. But I was dying to be debriefed. I wanted her to be like "yeah I am wearing a fatsuit" and me to be like "lol, yeah I know, cause like, I know you right?" And if the secret purpose of the experiment was actually "will you say something" then I will be told that and get to explain why I didn't.

Like sometimes debrief also involves follow-up questions that helps determine why you gave responses you did or whether you should actually have your data thrown out for some outlier reason (like the person faking being fat is my fucking TA).

So we get done with all the questions and leave the small room. And we're in the antechamber and the TA is like "okay, cool, thanks bye" and directs me to the door. And doesn't hand me a debrief slip or mention debriefing AT ALL.

And now I'm fucking SPOOKED. It's a TRICK and they want you to SAY SOMETHING and you're going to try to leave without saying anything and they will then stop you and debrief you. So I wait, for like...several seconds, waiting for her to remember debrief and just get stared at so I go "oh okay" and like stutter-step my way to the door of the office and like open it and turn back and she's already gone, and so I like, step out into the quad and am like "what. the. fuck."

And I literally stand there like "should I go back in and ask to be debriefed?" Literally I knew enough to know that THIS IS THE PURPOSE OF DEBRIEFING to not leave subjects wondering about shit like this and not leave them with nagging doubts and questions.

And the only really mysterious experiment of my life just failed to debrief me.

But of course I don't do anything but walk slowly away.

And it's now 20+ years later and I never did find anything out. Except you can DAMN well bet I confirmed at my next class that 1) yeah that was TOTALLY my fucking TA, I was right and 2) NO she was actually really slim.

So I'm sure it was about how a fatsuit (or *cough* sorry "attractiveness") of an interviewer changes responses to surveys. But I'm STILL mad I wasn't debriefed because it's fucking annoying and violates HRB standards and I could have gotten them in serious trouble over that by reporting it. And also my data should have been thrown out.

Also this is why you shouldn't trust psychology studies because the subject pool is SHITTY AS FUCK. "Psychology is the study of the average American college sophomore" as one of my profs quipped and then didn't change his method of getting subjects.

[jacksdinonuggets]

Evaluation

Carmilla is worried that Vaggie is a permaregressor so she gets her evaluated by a therapist!

Vaggie had been acting a bit younger lately. Whenever Carmilla would ask how old she was, she would always respond with “i’m big” and try to escape the conversation. At first, Carmilla let her avoid it, knowing it may be overwhelming for her to talk about. But as the days went on, she never seemed to actually age up. She would always act like a little kid. Not exactly a toddler but maybe a 5-6 year old. Her little lisp would sometimes show when she was talking, she would be mesmerized by the toy aisle whenever they go out and would ask to buy one, she would get extremely distressed if anything sexual was ever mentioned, she needed help getting dressed, and she constantly needed reassurance.

Carmilla finally decided that she needed to go get it checked out by a permaregressor therapist. It would help her figure out what mental age Vaggie usually was. If they figured that out, then Carmilla could know exactly how to accommodate her need.

On the day of her appointment, Carmilla got Vaggie dressed and fed before buckling her in her booster seat. Since Vaggie was so short, even when she was “big” she would still have to use the booster seat. Luckily, she wasn’t very embarrassed by it.

They made it to the building where the therapist was. She helped Vaggie out of her seat and held her hand as they walked through the parking lot and into the building. The little one skipped happily and made sure to step over all the cracks in the road. She didn’t want her mama to get hurt!

When they got to the waiting room, Vaggie sat on the floor.

“Mija, come sit in the chair, the floor isn’t very clean,” Carmilla patted the seat next to her.

“No! I like the floor!” Vaggie protested. The overlord just sighed.

“Alright, alright, but don’t be surprised if you catch something. Your body isn’t used to hells germs,” Carmilla said. Since heaven had barely any germs, Vaggie’s immune system wasn’t the best. It didn’t know how to fight off sicknesses. They already had to deal with Vaggie’s body not liking the food of hell, they didn’t need her to constantly catch illnesses. 

Vaggie played on Carmilla’s hellphone until she was called back. The therapist first spoke to Carmilla without Vaggie in the room. The little one didn’t like that and threatened to throw a tantrum but luckily, the talk wasn’t long enough to get her distraught. 

But she did start to throw a small fit when she needed to be evaluated without her mama being there. She finally calmed down when Carmilla promised that she would be just outside the door.

The therapist called Carmilla back in after about an hour.

“So, I’m just gonna get straight to point. Vaggie, here, is a permaregressor,” she told Carmilla. The overlord honestly kind of expected this. It wasn’t too much of a surprise. It was just good to know. However, Vaggie looked up with tears in her eyes.

“Is that bad?” she asked.

“No, sweetheart, it’s not, it just means you’re almost always in a regressed headspace,” Carmilla kneeled down to her.

“How old is she usually?” Carmilla asked the therapist.

“Well, she seems to be in the headspace of an older toddler to a young kid. Does she regress to this age often?” she asked.

“No, not really. She’s mainly a baby regressor,” Carmilla explained, sitting down in one of the chairs and hoisting Vaggie onto her lap.

“Okay, well she may regress to baby sometimes but her normal headspace would be about 4-7 years old,” the therapist says, “but this shouldn’t change too many things. Just treat her how you would when she regresses. Remind her to do things, help her with certain activities, and just show her love and affection,”

Carmilla bounced her little one on her knee as she processed the information. She was glad there wasn’t anything that was damaging to her mental health.

They left the building soon after and Carmilla had to explain in a little more detail what the evaluation was. Luckily, she took it pretty well and didn’t have a meltdown over it once she explained that nothing would change. Even though it didn’t change anything, it was still good to know.