#but it gets SO weird with my brother sometimes

[jo-harrington]

Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Chapter 5: Friends to Lovers

Previous Chapter: Reader Suggestions

Summary: A bit of chaotic Deja Vu ensues as the Writer finally gets a handle on this story.

Word Count: 6.3k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Chaos, Smut, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events and characters, Various References to Movies and Television, Lore, Criticism of Fanfiction, Analysis of Fanfiction/Fandom, Meta Fiction, Self-Aware Fic

Note: I KNOW THIS IS REALLY LATE (the dedication post not the chapter, I write on my own time and I'm not gonna apologize for that) so please consider this a chapter dedicated to @undead-supernova for her birthday. Love you August. Thanks for being a little gremlin with me sometimes. Hope you enjoy it.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

You really didn't know how you fit into this story.

You were utterly and sincerely baffled.

But you could say that about a lot of the stories you found yourself in; this one felt like it was just to make you suffer, more than anything else.

"What's on your mind Wanderlust?" Sawyer groaned as he collapsed beside you on the sand. He held out a water bottle--still a bit cold, meaning he'd just come back from refilling them at the caves--which you took with a grateful nod. "You're staring into that fire as if it's about to tell you the meaning of life."

"I think that's exactly what I'm hoping it does," you told him honestly before taking a swig.

"Well if you find out," he laid back with his arms folded behind his head. "Be sure to share with the class."

You rolled your eyes at him and then kept up with your pity party.

To add to the list of things you didn't know: Sawyer was also one of them.

He was a shithead of the first degree, dangerous, shifty, rude, selfish, suspicious...and somehow the only person you consistently talked to here on the island.

You'd actually been sitting next to him on Flight 815; he'd been a little salty but nice enough to let you have the arm rests, even asked if you were alright when the turbulence began and you began panicking.

For all the years that you'd been driving around the states, you'd never been on a plane before; you thought it was karma that some Writer would not only put you on the longest flight in existence for your first go, and then a plane crash for your second.

But you appreciated Sawyer's compassion, and the subsequent companionship that he shared with you. The care. The protection. The no-strings-attached, no-questions-asked nature of your relationship.

"You have a boyfriend back home kid?" he asked abruptly.

Spoke too soon.

"Loaded question," you snorted, thinking back to the many loves you'd had throughout this strange life you lived.

"Always the bridesmaid?"

"Something like that." You kicked his leg. "What about you?"

"Married to my work, sweet pea," he grinned, eyes still closed. He must've heard you roll your eyes at him. "I'm sure you're curious about why I'm asking."

"The question crossed my mind, if you'd like to share with the class," you parroted his words.

"Might've heard through the grapevine that someone has a little crush on you."

"Hmmm." You hoped the judgment and distaste was clear.

"Figure it was my duty as your unofficial big brother to scare them away before they started sniffing too close. 'specially if you had someone back home waiting for you."

"Well, no one's waiting," you huffed a breath. "But that doesn't mean I'm interested in a weird beach hookup either."

"I figured. I'll tell 'em to scram."

"Please don't be rude about it."

His eyes popped open and he pressed a hand to his chest.

"Now when have I ever been rude?" You kicked him again. "Alright, I'll be nice."

"Thank you."

There were a few beats of silence, filled with the crackle of the fire and the roar of waves just a few yards away.

"What are you looking for then?" Sawyer's voice broke through. "If it's not sex or love or whatever. What's got you looking so deep into that fire for?"

"I think..." You took a second, because all of those things were nice. But what did you want? What did you really want?

You inhaled deeply and then turned your gaze back to him with the hint of a smile.

"I think I just need a friend."

October 1985

You know what really sucked for Eddie about this whole fanfiction predicament?

The absolute unpredictability of it.

Just as you'd explained to him, he actually felt like he was playing a constant game of DnD. The only problem--well, one of many problems, actually--was that the Dungeon Master had no plans, didn't know what they were doing, and was making it all up as they went.

Which is why he suddenly found himself back in time once again, practically at the beginning of the school year, after a shitty, hot October day where everything that could've gone wrong did.

"It's almost like this Writer hates my guts or something," he grumbled as he sifted through the disarray in his locker. "Making me repeat my repeat-repeat-senior year over and over again."

He let the irritation fester within him all day until the end of the day so he could complain to you--and you'd hopefully agree to some under-the-shirt-over-the-bra action on his couch as consolation--only to find your trailer dark and your car missing by the time he got home.

"Great, just great," he grumbled and trudged inside.

For the rest of the night, he did what he always did when he was looking for comfort.

Pizza, Television, Recorded Reruns of Port Geneva.

He sat on the floor, worked on his homework, and munched on his large extra-pepperoni for hours, as you and Sam and Bonnie had your misadventures. A little voice in the back of his head urged him to just get up and try calling you whenever he hit the pause button to complain, but he ignored it and instead kept on complaining.

About school, about life, about himself. About never amounting to anything. It was very reminiscent of all the other "talks" he had with you...both the you on the screen and eventually the you in real life.

What he wouldn't give to just have you here right now to talk to, instead of this old habit that he thought he'd outgrown upon your appearance in Hawkins and the beginning of this unending hellscape.

He looked down at himself, at the homework and the pizza, and stopped to ask, "what the fuck am I doing?"

Was he really so pathetic that he couldn't control himself until you could be there? Or Wayne? Or any of his other friends? Had the turning back of the calendar just regressed him into the pathetic person he was before all of this started? Before you set foot into Hawkins?

Eddie got to his feet and hit the eject button on the VCR, fully intending to call it a night, when there was a crash outside.

Crashes in Forest Hills weren't abnormal--someone backing into trash cans, losing traction on the icy roads in the winter, and the one time Mrs. Dawson kicked her husband out and threw all of his things out the window--but it was something he'd just gotten used to.

This crash, however, started a ruckus. Again.

"Weird," he scoffed at the yelling and the dog across the way barking.

But who was he to pass up some good old Midwestern entertainment? Especially after the most lackluster night?

He grabbed his cigarettes from the bowl of junk on the coffee table, slid the box of leftover pizza into the fridge, and stepped outside to get a prime spot on the old couch on the porch to smoke and watch the scene unfold.

He'd just gotten that first drag of his cigarette and really took in the sights when it all made sense.

Or rather, it actually didn't make any sense.

Because he remembered the Mayfields on their porch yelling at the driver and Mrs. Mayfield threatening to call the police. He recognized that powder blue Volkswagen Beetle and the accompanying license plate. He knew, on instinct, exactly when the driver's door opened and the sneakered foot stepped out.

And then there you were. Looking around and begging the Mayfields not to call the cops, making a deal to pay for the damages.

The weirdest thing was that, even though his mind raced to put the pieces together, his heart ached with all of the emotions that he'd been through the first time he'd lived this night when you'd crashed into Hawkins from your adventures across the fictional universe.

But instead of muttering that it was all a dream like he remembered himself saying, he repeated "what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck" over again until you glanced over at him with an apologetic gaze that he recognized even from that distance.

All at once, he felt the calm wash over him. That's all he needed from you, one look, and everything began to feel worlds better.

"Jesus H. Christ," he sighed and ran a hand through his hair in relief.

Eddie watched for a few moments longer as you wrapped up your conversation with the Mayfields, and he would've made the attempt to approach you once you wandered back to your car, if he didn't feel the puppet strings of the Writer and their words rest on the tip of his tongue, waiting for him to speak them.

So he played the part, as he had gotten used to doing, and jumped to his feet.

"Hey!" He called out to you. "Uh...I...know my way around cars, I can take a look at it in the morning. I-if you want. Bang out any dents."

"Seriously? Can you?" you scrunched your nose in the way that made his knees shake. The Writer didn't need to make him do that; even after a few months, he was still pathetic for you. "That'd be nice, thanks."

"Yeah no problem," he smiled the friendliest and most welcoming smile he could muster, and then went back inside as your car trudged across the trailer park.

Your door was unlocked when he ventured to your place in the middle of the night.

The Writer, unfortunately--or maybe thankfully--still gave him as many nerves and as much restlessness as he had the first night you were in Hawkins. Or maybe he was just nervous and restless wondering just what new hell there was in store for the two of you? Still he couldn't sleep, so instead of wait for the morning, he just made his way over to discuss it with you now.

He found you sitting atop your bedroll on the blue plaid sofa in your living room.

"Hey Cigarette Porch guy," you greeted him tiredly, reciting the words you originally greeted him with.

"Cigarette porch guy is my father," he didn't hesitate to recall, the moment the two of you officially met fondly etched into his memory forever. "You can just call me Eddie."

You share a smile and then pat the spot beside you on the couch.

"I'd offer you a drink, but uh...seems like I'm starting over again," you sighed. "Unless I can interest you in some good old Indiana tap water."

He shook his head, then closed the distance and dropped beside you.

"So what are we in for this time?" he asked. "I thought I was just in for another shitty day."

"Well," you paused and held your breath, then you grabbed his hand and squeezed. "I woke up in a motel room I didn't recognize and then felt the urge to get in my car and just drive. I felt...excited to go to a new place; I think I even said it out loud. 'I'm so excited.' But inside I was worried that I'd moved onto another world and left you behind."

It was like a pit opened in his stomach; he'd considered it before, your eventual departure. He'd come to believe that you would move onto your next life after some event--a death, a breakup, maybe some happily ever after after 50 years together, if he was lucky. But to lose you without any kind of warning?

"Shit," he pulled you into his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. For your comfort and his own. "I'm sorry sweetheart."

"It's ok," came the weak chuckle as you leaned into his embrace and nuzzled your nose into his t-shirt. "It's ok, we're just...starting over. The Writer is starting the story over; starting over is good sometimes. Maybe they figured out what they were going to do with us, instead of just play with us like little dolls in a dollhouse."

"Well, I'm an expert in starting over so..." he cracked a joke. "I was just thinking that earlier today, actually."

"Oh yeah?"

"Well, if it's October again, it means I'm doing senior year for the...what is it...third-and-a-half time?"

You snorted and weakly slapped a hand to his chest, "well how dare they make you experience that fresh hell one more time."

"I guess if we're starting over, that means you can help me figure out how to pass my Civics quiz again," he recalled your first date. Study date.

You shot out of his embrace and grabbed his face in your hands, smushing his cheeks as you grinned, the somber tone in the living room finally dissipating.

"But that's the best part of rewrites," you explained. "You get to live all the best memories with people over again."

You told him about rewrites that you'd been through; stories that generally didn't change and some that changed drastically. He liked hearing the fondness of your voice when you talked about getting to meet so-and-so for the first time again, holding someone's hand, first dates.

"First kisses?" he asked through his still-smooshed lips.

"That's one of the best parts of rewrites," you winked and pecked a kiss against his mouth. Then again and again, until the two of you were smooching all over each other comically like Gomez and Morticia, giggling all the while.

And when it was time to say goodbye, both of you ready to say "hello" for the second first time.

"Hey," you greeted, somewhat out of breath when Eddie opened the door. It was a familiar sight: backpack slung over your shoulder, 6-pack of sodas dangling from your fingers, looking as gorgeous as you always did or at least he thought so. "Sorry if I'm late."

"No," he shook his head quickly and shifted to the side to let you pass into the trailer. "Right on time sweetheart. Hope you like pepperoni."

Of course you did. It was your favorite.

"It's my favorite."

He still felt the strong sense of triumph from knowing what your favorites were, even though the nerves of being around you for the first time had dissipated.

There was another kind of excitement now as you bit your lip and winked at him stealthily and made your way inside to get settled in the living room. Of course you knew he knew that pepperoni was your favorite. What the Writer didn't know was that pepperoni wasn't your only favorite, and they didn't know that he'd gotten half-pep, half-mushroom to surprise you.

How would they? He hadn't felt them as he'd called Pizzeria Uno, just those lurking strings leading him to the door once the pizza arrived.

The past few days had gone like this, where the Writer would control some aspect of your lives, and the two of you would test what the boundaries of this fanfiction were. It was a trick of yours, to feel some semblance of control in an uncontrollable situation, especially as things became out of character or too drawn out.

When the Writer seemed to be writing too much exposition about one thing or another, the two of you sat frozen in time. No talking, no movement as the world around you seemed to shift and morph at the will of your would-be-deity.

You'd silently challenged him to a staring contest over breakfast at Benny's as a water stain in the corner of the ceiling got bigger and dingier and became more of an eyesore.

Had Eddie really never noticed it or was the Writer just obsessed with it?

It was happening right now as his attention was drawn to the enticing softness of the sweater you had on...each piece of yarn knitted and woven together with such care, his hand twitched as though he wanted to reach out and...

"So..." you cleared your throat. "Homework?"

"Yeah," he agreed, shaking himself out of his story-induced stupor. "Lemme put those pops in the fridge so they get cold first. Dr. Pep--Mr. Pibb?" He scoffed at the unexpected label, a laugh dead in his throat.

"Wh...do you...I thought you liked Dr. Pepper," he questioned.

"Why would you think that?"

"Be...because you got Dr. Pepper at Benny's!"

"If I don't have a choice, yeah Dr. Pepper is fine. But Mr. Pibb is my favorite," you laughed and shook your head in amused disbelief. "There's nothing like a slice of pepperoni and an ice cold Mr. Pibb."

Eddie was sure that there were no strings pulling him this way or that, and based on your body language, it didn't seem like the Writer was doing anything to you either. He racked his brain for a moment, trying to come up with any little tidbit that could prove some outside interference.

But then he realized...had The Writer noticed something about you that he hadn't?

Had he, Eddie Munson, number one fan of Port Geneva's--and you--not noticed that your favorite soda was Mr. Pibb?

Then a thought that didn’t really seem to be his echoed in his head.

What if he actually didn’t know anything about you?

No.

That was impossible.

He refused to believe it. It had to be the Writer who was manipulating things. Right?

He looked at the Mr. Pibb for a moment, then back up at you.

"So, uh," he hesitantly backed out of the living room to head to the kitchen. "Anything else shocking and unbelievable that I need to know about you? If we're gonna be neighbors...or friends...or whatever."

"Or whatever," you giggled, scrunching your nose, then pulled his notebook off the coffee table to distract yourself as you continued nervously. "Uh, ok let's see...I don't think there's anything too shocking and unbelievable that I hadn't told you at breakfast the other day. I'm from Port Geneva, I've been driving around for a while, I like to draw."

You flipped through a few pages in his notebook and then paused and pointed to the doodles in the margins of the page.

"And by the looks of this, so do you," you grinned. "These are cool."

"Cool?" he scoffed. "That...I was supposed to take notes for class and I ended up doodling for Hellfire Club the whole time. Ahem...Hellfire Club...my Dungeons and Dragons club at school."

"Oh yeah?"

"Planning a one-shot for my buddy Jeff's birthday in a world where Theodred doesn't die and goes on to become...well...it's just nerd stuff. You're not interested in any of that. Besides, we're supposed to be talking about you."

"Actually," you looked at him expectantly, "we're supposed to talk about your history quiz. But while we're on the topic of me, and history, and these nerd things in your notebook, I guess one shocking and unbelievable thing about me is that I'm actually a nerd too. I happen to like Tolkien."

It was his turn to shoot you a mocking "oh yeah?"

You rolled your eyes at him and then put his notebook down on the table, then held out your hand as though you desired a handshake. As soon as his palm touched yours, you introduced yourself.

"I actually like Tolkien. My mom got me a copy of the Silmarillion for my sixteenth birthday and if I could go anywhere in any universe, I'd like to see Middle Earth from the tippy top of Erebor. And I used to say that I'd settle for the grand canyon, but I've already been there. So I will accept nothing less than Erebor itself. Now you."

You continued to shake his hand as he spoke.

"I'm Eddie Munson. The first time I read the Hobbit, my dad had dropped me off at the library and someone had misplaced it in the Kids section. And I've tried to get my band to play a rendition of Misty Mountains before, but we can't agree on whether or not there should be a harp in it. If we could even find a harp in Indiana like Thorin's."

There was a sparkle in your eye as you began to say "actually I have a funny story about Thorin and his harp," when you froze.

Eddie watched you and got increasingly worried as you fought some kind of internal battle just behind your eyes. He could see the little changes in your expression, from joyful to nervous to angry, and he reached out to rest his hand on yours and let you know that he was right there.

That it would be alright.

"Why don't," you finally spat out forcefully, slightly out of breath, "why don't we try this? We study a little bit at a time, and as we go, we share a new fact about each other? That way by the end of the night, you'll be ready for the quiz, and we'll be good...friends?"

There was something biting about the word friends, almost like you didn't want to say it.

Honestly, it stung him a little to hear it.

Friends.

Weren't you two supposed to fall in love? Hadn't that been what this fanfiction was in the first place? That this Writer shipped you two together? And shit, even though he knew that he could kiss you once the Writer relinquished control, he was kind of looking forward to having this first date all over again, just like you'd discussed.

But now everything was turning out differently.

Not bad, just different.

It was your turn to turn your hand in his and squeeze, then you asked "how does that sound Eddie? Friends?"

His eyes darted between yours, and he felt the pressure build, the pressure to agree and say yes, as thoughts that the Writer put into his head flew through him at light speed.

"Yeah," he finally spoke. "Friends sounds good."

And friends it was...until it wasn't anymore.

You and Eddie seemed to do all of the things that you did before. Study sessions and Saturdays spent together watching movies and putzing around town until it was time for you to go to work.

Only instead of holding hands and smooching and all of the things that really punctuated the romance in a relationship...there were just awkward, forlorn glances and tingles along your skin when your fingers happened to touch.

God damn, he hadn't had this kind of crush since he was in middle school. The last serious crush he had besides that...was on you.

And it was weird to physically feel all of the effects of a crush on you, thanks to the Writer, while mentally being frustrated knowing that dates and kisses and everything were just around the corner. If only the two of you would be allowed to get over that hurdle.

"It's called a slow burn," you laughed one night when he complained to you on the phone, away from the watchful eye of the Writer. You seemed to be taking the glass-half-full approach, where Eddie just missed you so goddamn much. "And I guess the Writer is really letting us simmer."

"I'm gonna melt if they don't let us be together soon." Eddie complained, semi-seriously, basking in your laughter. "Call me Eddie Mun-stew."

"They've got us in a crock pot," you entertained his joke.

"8 chapters on low," he grinned. "Like Uncle Wayne's famous chili. I just want to kiss you, is that such a crime?"

"Apparently it is."

"What if I've forgotten how to kiss?"

"I sincerely doubt that you have. I'm more worried that the Writer will make it a bad first kiss."

"Like if we bonk heads and I break your nose or something?"

"Oh god, let's not give them any ideas," you groaned. "Look, whenever they decide it'll happen, it will. And it's gonna be great."

"Maybe they won't let me make you think I'm a virgin this time."

"You have to admit, that was hilarious."

"It was not!"

Your only response, which caused him to hang up on you, was to cackle loudly into the receiver.

But the Writer must've sensed the antsy energy between the two of you because it happened.

A first kiss. A second first kiss.

You were actually at the movies this time, instead of on Eddie's couch.

The Writer had given Eddie an incredibly long sequence where he and his pals from Hellfire practiced all of the moves he could have finally made on you now to let you know he might be interested.

First, there was the raising of the armrest between the two of you--exaggeratedly performed by Jeff, who played Eddie, and Eddie, who played you.

Next, there was the meeting of the fingers in the popcorn bucket. Gareth was able to do an uncanny impression of Eddie's "don't take all the milk duds" and the awkward laugh he made as the blush dusted his cheeks.

Then there was the old yawn and stretch, which wasn't awkward at all to have Dave do to him.

"Have you ever done this to someone before?" Eddie snarked, as Dave practically squeezed him against his side. It had been more of a grab than a casual drape of his arm around Eddie's back.

Needless to say, his own execution of the move was a lot smoother.

"And then you just kiss her," his friends said in tandem.

"Gee thanks," Eddie scoffed at them, "I know how to kiss a girl, you shitheads."

Except when it came down to it, he was nervous. Hadn't you told him that the best part of rewrites was having those firsts again? What if it was terrible? What if he actually did break your nose?

"Eddie, are you shaking?" you leaned away from him and looked at him worriedly. "What's wrong?"

Shit, had he been shaking?

"This movie is just," he cleared his throat and glanced up at the screen; thank god he chose something spooky for Halloween. "Really scary."

"Oh...kay," you narrowed your eyes in suspicion, but sat back in your seat.

Then you leaned into him a little more.

And glanced up at him from beneath your lashes.

And he couldn't help but lean a little closer, and duck his head, until his breath was fanning against your cheeks.

Until you inched closer and closer.

And your lips brushed.

Damn, this Writer must've been a hopeless romantic because the kiss was everything they said a first kiss should be. Sunshine and rainbows and birds singing and rockets red glare fireworks at the soft press of your lips on his.

It was here that Eddie realized how much he'd missed kissing you, like...really missed kissing you. You'd taken the task of this rewrite a little too seriously, worried that in some way it might inspire the Writer...or possibly even mess with their inspiration.

The two of you were here now, though, and finally all of that waiting had paid off.

So of course you took advantage of it.

Actually, you were a little more eager than Eddie even was, because your hands were on him immediately. One hand found his waist and the other on his jaw, thumb softly caressing his stubbly skin as your lips pressed together. He liked the firmness of your lips, he liked the way you'd waited for him to make the move before taking what you both eagerly wanted.

Writer be damned.

Eddie pulled you closer, using the arm hooked around your shoulders as leverage, and then tried to use the other hand to hike one of your legs over his--you couldn't be close enough--but the damned popcorn bucket got in the way.

He pulled his lips away from yours for a moment to glance down at the obstacle, basking in the little whine you made at the loss of contact.

In fact, you both looked down at the popcorn, and then at the screen, then at each other.

And you both must've decided that "fuck it" was the correct response, because soon the popcorn bucket was on the floor and you were giggling into each other's mouths as you melded back into one writing mass of limbs and kisses and caresses.

It was a joy to be reunited like this; there were some moments that Eddie was eager to move his hand this way or that way, but he felt the strings of the Writer pull him some other way. His own signature moves foregone in favor of something that they thought would be better. Fingers inched under clothing and into hair, lips chased down the column of a neck, and a leg was hitched over a hip until you were practically grinding on each other for all the world to see.

Suddenly a light was shined on you and you both froze, then jumped apart in shock. Your shoulders heaved and you turned towards the source of the light.

"Hey!" An usher shouted from the end of the row, getting the attention of the whole theater as they turned in their seats to stare at the two of you with your kiss-bruised lips and disheveled clothes. "Knock it off."

"Sorry," you apologized in tandem and shrunk back into your seats.

In fact, the usher waited until the armrest was securely back in place between the two of you before he left.

Once he was gone, though, you snickered and slyly lifted the armrest so you could cuddle back together.

"It's good to be back," Eddie whispered and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

"Ok," you took a breath in and stared at the bed. "So...how do we start?"

Eddie looked at you incredulously and then scoffed.

"You're asking me?" He chuckled and ran a hand into his hair.

"Yeah, I'm asking you," you nodded sincerely and then you gestured up towards the ceiling. "Because clearly they don't know."

You'd been making out on the couch when you'd both decided to take it to the bedroom. But when you got there, things seemed to fizzle out, and now you were just waiting for the Writer's next move.

Actually, the two of you had been waiting for that to happen for a little while. Not that either of you could complain. All of the little scenes that had been written developed your relationship into something worth a story being told about it--dates and cuddling and kissing.

Better than some of the bullshit that the Writer had previously pulled. No bouts of interference or jealousy from Steve Harrington or Chrissy Cunningham. It seemed like a normal relationship, and everything the two of you wanted.

There was still the underlying disbelief and mystery that surrounded you, Eddie's favorite character from Port Geneva, actually being in Hawkins, but in reality the two of you knew that whatever the Writer had planned would truly be a drop in the water when it came to what was actually happening to you.

You'd take this love story while you could get it.

However, the one hurdle that you couldn't seem to get over...was sex.

Well, the two of you could certainly get over it.

It was the Writer that couldn't.

And the cockblocking was getting old.

Making out on the couch, Wayne walked in unexpectedly and ruined the mood. Someone knocked on the back of the van when the two of you were getting hot and heavy parked up at the quarry.

Shit, even phone sex was ruined.

The Writer seemed to be attuned to the two of you now and anytime there was any hint of an arousal to be had, they would be there to effectively crush it.

"Maybe they're just a bad writer?" Eddie shouted upwards, throwing two middle fingers into the air, as though The Writer would know.

"Alright, let's not get too heated," you chuckled and grabbed his arms to pull them back down. "It's probably not as easy as we think it is."

"The dick goes in," Eddie pouted. You stared at him with some sense of disbelief. He was quick to recover it with "and other things happen. I know how to warm a girl up. They should just let us get to it, then it would be easy to put it on paper."

There was a spark of inspiration in your eye at that.

"Alright then, Mister know-it-all," you challenged him, "maybe we should put that logic to the test."

"W-what do you mean?" he questioned. "How?"

"Well, what would you do? How would we start?" you asked in return. "Actually...you admitted to writing a few little stories; have you ever written a sex scene about me?"

Eddie felt the heat build up in his cheeks and you grinned wickedly.

"Oh my god, you have."

"Shut up, ok?" He inhaled deeply, held, and then exhaled his response. "Ok yes but it was once and can you blame me?"

You cackled and did a little shimmy.

"You're smart and funny and gorgeous and I'm in love with you," he explained and then caught himself in shock. "Er, I mean, I..."

He fumbled over his words but your gaze got soft, and you leaned in to press your mouth to his.

It was all the reassurance he needed.

Then he got lost in you. Your lips, your taste, the feel of your hands on him, the feel of you beneath his hands. It was a sensory overload but it was a welcome one. To be surrounded by all of you? He couldn't have written it as well as it was to simply experience it.

That's how he felt about everything he'd experienced with you so far, though. Why should this be any different?

You tugged on his clothes and he tugged on yours. You fumbled to get onto the bed, chasing each other as you scrambled up towards the pillows; you refused to let each other's mouths stray too far though.

"You know," Eddie panted as he pulled away from you to pull his t-shirt over his head. "Maybe the Writer was onto something, though; I really like kissing you."

"Uh huh," you scoffed, your own shirt gone, and you fumbled with the buttons of your jeans. "Do you wanna stop then?"

"Fuck no," he responded and ducked his head to your bare stomach.

His fingers fought with yours on your waistband as he kissed up the softness of your belly, then the dip between your breasts, then up to your neck.

"You know I'm really good at giving hickeys," he muttered into the corner of your jaw. The words tumbled out of his mouth, almost like they weren't his. It took him to realize that they weren't actually his. They were The Writer's. Maybe this was working after all. "Like, really good."

"Put your money where your mouth is Munson," came your reply as your hand slipped into his waistband.

And it was such a strange sensation, maybe just for Eddie, maybe the both of you, when your hand wrapped around his cock and squeezed and he sucked on your pulse like his life depended on it.

Pleasure definitely, and maybe pain; a little mortification and a lot of confusion.

The crescendo of moans from the two of you that your brains said sounded like music but all your ears heard was utter filth. The difference between what the Writer demanded--what they wrote--and what the two of you experience.

And then you released each other, and looked into one another's eyes, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"What is this?" Eddie chuckled into your neck. "What are we doing?"

"I don't know," you mirrored him. Your free hand reached up and caressed his face, fingers brushing into his bangs. "But I wouldn't do this with anyone but you."

The rest of your clothes were shed, then, and more kisses were shared. You explored each other's bodies with hands and eyes and tongues. He liked the sounds you made when he licked his way down your body and finally got to taste you when he reached your core.

He vaguely wondered what it was the Writer was describing as he found the spots that made you moan and scream and shatter. Was it the heady taste of you? Or the weight of your thigh hiked over his shoulder? The feeling of your fingers in his hair? And then when things were reversed, when he sunk into you? What did you feel? Did you feel the weight of him on your body, the sweet affirmations he whispered into you, or the way your thighs pulled him closer? The need to have him in you and around you?

Did they write about the slow build of pleasure between you? The chase of it as he bucked into you and you pulled him deeper? Did they know the exact moment that your hands reached down to press into the spot where you connected?

What was it that a Writer experienced when the characters they wrote about shared those intimate moments together? Did they feel their own sense of lust at the thought of bodies melding into one another? Did they feel a sense of shame or intrusion?

Or maybe they felt left out? That this love, this experience, would never really happen to them? Maybe it was just some facsimile with their own partner? Or could this only ever experienced secondhand through words written on a page, never to truly be had on their own?

Eddie paused and looked down at you--at the scrunch of your eyes as you touched yourself, as you touched him, and moaned his name--and he did his best to banish the Writer from his mind.

From this room.

Because this truly was something that should only belong to you and Eddie.

Before everything faded to darkness, before whatever "scene" came to a close, you reached your peaks together.

Because strings or no strings, whether the writer existed or not, whether this was real or fanfiction, it was just the two of you.

You and Eddie.

Together.

"I love you."

Next Chapter: Lemon Coming Soon

There is no taglist for this series, please follow the STFF Updates tag or check the series out on AO3.

[brummiereader]

@call-sign-shark was so happy to find the time today and chill on my settee and read this long awaited chapter ❤️.

I have some vague memories of you sharing pieces of this chapter before you went to the UK. I can't tell you how eager I've been to see this scene unfold and Heavens murderous reaction.

I felt for her at the beginning, she's clearly not ready to share the news about the baby, considering not even Arthur knows. I know Polly meant no harm, but I've always got the impression that Heaven is pretty private when it comes to things that have to do with her Arthur.

What did you feel when we kissed? A shiver ran down your spine as you heard Tommy’s husky voice, as charming as venomous, whispering in your ear. 😬, he's still in her head. I'm not sure how I feel about this 😂. I still don't know what Tommy was playing at with that move, but you'd think he'd have some respect for his brother's wife, considering how much he loves him, like we saw in the last scene of this chapter. It's just a weird move on him, I can't get my head around it, and clearly, neither can Heaven lol.

I actually found it pretty sweet how she diverted the attention away from her to Lizzie. Heaven understands how Lizzie always feel like second best in that family, so It was nice to see her give her a little attention and let her have her time to shine.

Just have to mention, my brain is slowly starting to attach Heavens face to her knew face claim. And I have to say, I love it ❤️.

Ok, so the whole next scene was as heartbreaking as it was gruesome.

The more you pushed with your thumbs, the more you felt his eyeball turning into a viscous pulp. I don't think I'll ever be able to unsee this now 😳. I love how she turned into the animal version of herself. I knew she wouldn't be able to hold back when it came down to it. It was the perfect gory scene I always imagined it would be.

I think what Heaven went through after could possibly be the most hardest descion a wife would have to go through. It stirred some very deep and surpressed emotions in me, and honestly made me quite teary. Maybe it's because I'm a mum myself, at that changes my reaction compared to some of your other readers, I don't know 🤷🏼‍♀️. But her pain was felt as she desperately tried to bring Arthur back while she simultaneously felt her baby dying.

I actually really enjoyed how Tommy came in and supported her throughout the entire thing after he got over the horrors (come on Tom, you're supposed to be hardened gangster 🙄😂). I'm alway on the fence about their toxic relationship, sometimes it makes my skin crawl how he acts with her but it's times like these where you see them kinda unite where I have a little hope that he'll respect those unspoken boundaries between them both and they'll eventually have a "normal" relationship 😬.

Or that you would at least die trying to save him. This last line in very intune with Heaven and Arthur, they'll die trying to save each other.

Looking forward to seeing what you have in store for us next. Amazing as always ❤️.

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x You

Summary: It was supposed to be an entertaining evening. Boxing fights, booze and party. It wasn't supposed to be one of the worst days of your life. || Featuring Tommy Shelby x Reader

Words: 4.5k

TW: angst+++, alteration of canon events, canonical violence, depictions of slaughter and body horror, main character death, Reader's husband dying, suicidal thoughts, graphic murder. Parts in bold are direct quotes from the show. Parts in Italics are direct quotes from preceding chapters. Also, Tommy will take more space in the next chapters.

Notes:

✞ Shorter chapter because it's extremely violent and angsty. Also, I'm super rusty so I tried to write it in a more direct style so it's prolly less poetic and beautiful.

✞ This is chapter 16 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Each chapter can be read as stand-alones but reading the whole series will make the experience far more intense.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

The extraordinary general meeting of the Shelby Ladies Club.

This is what Polly called this unexpected little meeting in the bathroom right in the middle of the rigged fight happening a few rooms away. When you entered the lavatory with Ada complaining about the sparring between Goliath and Bonnie, Aunt Pol was taking a cigarette from the silver case she was holding while Lizzie was fixing her hair.

“I love your messy bun, Heaven.” Lizzie complimented when she saw your reflection in the mirror she was using.

“Thank you Liz. Ada scolded me and decided that it would be a better hairstyle for tonight.”

“You never style your hair except for braids and it’s a fucking shame considering how beautiful and long your white mane is.” The young Shelby sister insisted.

“If you say so,” You snorted, amused, “What are you doing here? Plotting and scheming? Leave these for Thomas.” You smirked, sitting on the edge of a sink with movements as nimble as a cat. Your little cutting remark had the expected effect: the three girls laughed with sincerity, somewhat amused by the beef between you and the family’s boss. They had eventually learned that nothing could ever ease the tension between the two of you, so laughing about the matter was the only thing they could do. A part of you couldn’t help but think that they wouldn’t find it that amusing anymore if they knew the unhealthy turn your mutual hatred had taken.

What did you feel when we kissed? A shiver ran down your spine as you heard Tommy’s husky voice, as charming as venomous, whispering in your ear. It might only have been a memory, but you could almost feel his hot whisky breath brushing your skin.

“Heaven has some news.” Polly’s voice resounded in the bathroom, snatching you from your thoughts.

“Me?” You asked, batting your bambi lashes in incomprehension before the understanding of the situation slapped you right in the face.

“Well, tell her. Now! While the men are screaming for blood.”  Polly sneaked a cigarette between her thin, red lips. 

Your blood momentarily froze in your pale veins for this unexpected pregnancy wasn’t something you wanted to talk about. For sure Aunt Pol didn’t mean to do harm, but the surrounding chaos and your last encounter with Luca Changretta seriously eroded your wish to have a baby. The baby who made you so vulnerable during times that were anything but good. Moreover, a quick glance at Lizzie’s sad and anxious eyes had been enough for you to understand that something was weighing on her shoulders. Something you had guessed for a few days. Something she needed to talk about more than you. The corner of your mouth turned up in a half-smile.

“Well, I discovered something about Lizzie but I think she should be the one making the announcement. Shouldn’t you, Lizzie?” You winked, replacing one of your long white strands of hair behind your pierced ear with a naive pout. Glitters of hope and gratefulness suddenly sparkled in the ocean blue of the secretary’s eyes to whom you replied with a discreet nod before grabbing Polly’s cigarette case.

“I’m up the duff. And it’s Tommy’s.”

You took a long drag on the cigarette and slowly exhaled the smoke by your nostrils as the attention was now on Lizzie. Even though Ada almost choked on her sip of gin, she quickly showed interest in the tall woman’s pregnancy. The only one you didn’t fool was old and cunning Aunt Pol who gave you a brief “okay I get it” glance before turning back to Lizzie.

It’s a girl. Call her Ruby. Ruby Shelby. She’ll be a star in a Hollywood movie.

You watched the scene with a light smile floating upon your plump and glossy lips, satisfied by the outcome of your little trick as well as the surprising unconditional support Lizzie was receiving after years of being seen only through her job as a prostitute. Admittedly, the reason behind the little push you gave to Lizzie Stark was purely selfish, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you kind of liked the woman despite never really interacting with her. She got the attention, and you got peace. It was a win-win situation.

“Congratulations, Lizzie.” You said, your siren-like voice as soft as a lazy ocean.

“She’s a real Shelby lady now. Just like you, Devil.”  Polly’s smirk betrayed her amusement. You rolled your eyes teasingly before proudly showing your left hand and wiggling your small fingers to display the magnificent wedding ring Arthur had gifted you.

“What about you Hev? When are you planning to give us a little Arthur?” Ada suddenly asked, Lizzie's news had visibly rendered her sour mood better.

“I think one Arthur is enough for now, don’t you?” You got up from the sink and carefully smoothed the folds your revealing black dress, “Anyway. Ladies, let’s rejoin our gentlemen.”

“I guess the meeting is over.” Ada added with a little chuckle

Joining deeds to words, Polly gently hooked her arm with yours in a motherly gesture and guided you outside, where the crowd’s roars were echoing.

Laughs and cheers filled the room as Johnny Dog put on a show to get more men to bet on the winner of this fight. Swallowing a mouthful of gin, your seraphic traits turned into a wince at the burning sensation the alcohol left in your throat – that new batch was strong, indeed. The sweet taste that exploded on your tastebuds, when the tip of your rosy tongue licked your juicy lips, made you grin, or maybe it was the all-consuming smell of sweat and blood that lingered in the air. It might come off as surprising for other women, but you enjoyed watching fights. There was something brutal but so real about them. After all, humans were just animals wearing suits. Animals which, according to you, had barely learned to speak instead of growling.

Your lips pinched the cigarette as you took another drag you quickly blew, your eyes following blood spurting from Bonnie’s nose and splattering the ground. Although quieter than Polly, Lizzie, and Ada, who were laughing, screaming, and sometimes nudging you in excitement at each violent blow the Romani boy gave back to his opponent, you had a lot of fun. Until a peculiar but familiar feeling blossomed within.

It started with a chill creeping down your spine and ended up with light tremors shaking your frail silhouette. Instinctively, you raised your piercing gaze and searched for Arthur somewhere among the crowded rows of folded seats. Your usual calm demeanor faltered as you noticed that your husband seemed troubled by something, rapidly glancing from here and there, attempting to read the room for whatever reason. He didn’t even pay attention to you, far too busy observing the men that were around the boxing ring. Eventually, Arthur stood up and left, his steel blue eyes fixed on someone he followed through the depths of the building. Let me do my fucking job! That’s what he barked at Tommy, or at least what you thought you overheard.

You frowned as a strange sensation rippled through your mind – like a distant, haunting whisper of something looming, a threat. Nervously swallowing your saliva, your first reflex was looking at Tommy. You couldn’t place it, but the odd feeling gripped you tightly like an omen you couldn’t shake, warning you of an approaching storm. It seemed like little King Shelby shared your inner agitation though, for his mesmerizing turquoise eyes dived into yours with the same nervousness and incomprehension. Whatever the many reasons behind your hatred, you were definitely on the same wavelength at this very moment. The silent conversation, expressed through brief eyebrows and eye movements, was more or less the following:

-Where is he going?

-I don’t know. It’s prolly the booze and the pills.

-It’s not. I’ll check.

-Don’t fucking do that.

You stood up from your seat with a clenched jaw and, feeling the vibration of this bad omen quaking your soul itself, you nimbly snaked in and out through seats and followed Arthur’s steps. As was the case for your husband a few minutes ago, the dark corridor into which you rushed engulfed your ethereal silhouette like a hungry giant.

“Fuck.” Tommy mumbled, straightening on his seat and leaning forward, “Fuck.” He repeated, torn between his own doubts and his disdain for you. Nevertheless, if there was one thing he had learned since you joined the family was that your gut feelings were never wrong. You proved it several times, starting by foreseeing Charlie’s abduction. The dark-haired gangster sniffed and nervously rubbed his chin, his catlike eyes going back on forth between the corridor and the crowd. A few minutes later, Tommy finally left the fighting pit.

Something was definitely off.

Cautiously walking through the maze of dark hallways dimly lit by a bluish light, you tried to ignore the maddening beat of your heart that was drumming so loud you felt it hammering in your temples. You didn’t really know where you were heading, nor where Arthur went, but the more you moved forward, the more this unbearable feeling of dread and panic invaded you. Your aimless wandering came to an end when the strong and metallic smell of fresh blood and the atrocious sight that followed jumped at your face.

No.

Your heart nearly stopped when you saw him – your husband, slumped on the ground, blood soaking through the collar of his shirt as it gushed from the wound across his throat.

No!

Time seemed to slow down, and your heart seemed to stop as you took in the scene: the gun the Italian bastard was holding in his steady hand aimed at Arthur’s head.

Panic crashed over you like a tidal wave, washing away everything but the rage that had piled up within you during all these years. In that moment, something primal and destructive snapped inside of you. In a blur of rage and raw instinct, and with a guttural scream that seemed too inhumane to come from you, you launched yourself at the mafioso, who barely had the time to turn around. Another furious shriek escaped from your quivering lips, similar to the rabid screech of a wounded banshee, and with your fingers curled into claws, your sharp nails slashed across his face.  

“PUTTANA!” The man yelled and gasped, taken aback by your unleashed fury.

The mafioso fired with his gun in a desperate attempt to kill you but the brutal impact between your two bodies threw him off balance and the shot reached the wall instead of your brain. As his spine crashed against the tiled ground, Changretta’s henchman dropped the weapon. You gave it a brutal blow to make it slide away from him.

Another wave of insults followed as he realized that he struggled to overpower you. You were fighting like a cornered animal, wild and relentless. Your claws scratched him again and again, leaving raw and jagged lines of blood all over his face. The mafioso's strength was starting to falter as he realized that you weren’t just fighting to win; you were fighting to kill him, your body moved by the instinct of a bloodthirsty beast that refused to be caged.

"Stop it, you fucking bitch!" A scream of utter pain brutally tore the air as, completely out of your mind, you dug your thumbs into his skull, pushing harder and harder in an attempt to gouge his eyes. The Sicilian man produced a second sound so twisted that it seemed beyond anything a human throat could produce. The more you pushed with your thumbs, the more you felt his eyeball turning into a viscous pulp. The feeling of the moist and warm liquid on your fingers didn’t stop you. Nor the man’s wails of pure agony, with its pitch far too high and too broken.

“Ajùtami! Ajùtami!” He pleaded, his hands felt the ground in panic, searching for anything he could use to push you away from him. Anything to make you stop. Realizing that nothing was around him, not even the thread he used to attack Arthur, he managed to overcome the pain and gather his strength to grab your throat.

With your air squeezed, you wheezed and removed your fingers from his skull to claw his strong hands. “S-Stop!” Panic flooded you as your vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges. The harder you fought, the harder he strangled you. Seriously lacking air, you clawed at his arms, desperate to breathe, but his grip was iron. Now you had to do something and do it quickly if you wanted to have a chance to save Arthur.

Your thoughts raced, frantic, until instinct took over.

I love your messy bun, Hev!

The judas stick – now you had a chance. With one quick movement, you brought your hand to your bun and your fingers fumbled for the sharp metal judas stick that was holding your hair in place. It came in handy. With a choked sound, you drove it upward and sunk the sharp edge of the stick into the man’s side.

One time.

Two times.

Three, four, five, six…

Side, chest, shoulder, face… 

Each impact was vicious and powerful, tearing through the flesh like butter and drilling into organs and bones with the sheer will of maiming your enemy. Hot blood splashed all over you and around, but you didn’t care. The only thing that made you stop stabbing him was when you felt the man’s grip loosen around your throat until his arms dropped on the red-smeared ground in a loud thud.

“Fuck!” You sucked in a sharp breath, your voice hoarse from being choked. However, you quickly got up from the corpse to run to your husband.  “Arthur!” You screamed, rushing to his side, your hands trembling as you knelt beside him – or rather as you dropped to your knees, your legs unable to support your weight anymore. Panic seized you even more violently as you saw Arthur's deep wound and the blood—too much blood.

“No, no, no… not like this,” You whispered, voice cracking. You couldn’t lose him, not here, not now. Never. Your fingers brushed over his chest and, in your deepest desperation, you looked for his pulse. A pulse you found, but which was becoming slower and fainter as seconds flew by. “Arthur! Please!” You started sobbing, tears streaming down your face and mixing with the fresh blood that was painting your skin in a disgusting shade of red. You had to face the truth: Arthur was dying. The damages were too serious and the bleeding too much… But you were a witch. The gift of healing was coursing through your veins. The only problem was that if you tried to save him by using your magic, you’d hurt the baby. After all, that was what happened when you tried to kill Luca Changretta with a heart attack.

The baby.

Your husband or the baby?

Your heart painfully raced in your chest. Your erratic breathing and your sore throat made you feel like you weren’t getting enough air.

 “I’d love to have kids with ye, eh. Little white-haired and blue-eyed us running barefoot in the forest… Little embodiments of our love brightening our life.” His voice was merely a whisper now for he was slowly falling asleep, “I’ve always wanted to be a dad… but thought I was too messed up for that.”

You could save him. You had to. Despite this torture of a dilemma and the harshness of the decision, nothing could change your mind, not even the feeling of your heart shattering into millions of shards. Closing your eyes, you placed one hand over his throat, the blood warm under your palm, and the other on his chest. Wasting no time, you channel all your strength – the connection sparked, and the raw, untamed magic you inherited from your mother surged through you. It seemed to work at first, his pulse lightly responding to yours.

But the more the magic surged, the more you felt a terrible pain in your belly. It started as cramps but quickly escalated into suffering so high that you felt like someone was stabbing you. A trembling squeal escaped from your red lips. You were killing it, you knew it. You were killing your own baby.

"Come on, come on," You muttered, pushing harder, forcing your will into his body. "Stay with me, Arthur," You whispered, tears streaking down your face, each sentence cut by muffled cries of the mafioso you had slaughtered and who was still alive— not for too long to be honest. He seemed to say something in Sicilian but you couldn't understand what. And you didn't care. "Just... stay with me." You gritted your teeth, doing your best to put up with the pain.

Click.

You froze.

“You nosey little slut. You should've stayed with the others.” 

Your heart missed a leap at the unknown male voice, carried by a thick Italian accent. The mafioso’s colleague looked at you, gun pointed right to your head.

"Remember me?" He asked with a wicked smile, recalling the moment he had offered you a cigarette a few hours ago. During your brief chit-chat, he told you that his name was Damiano but you didn't make the connection between Changretta and his Italian heritage.

“Don't cry, you're going to meet with your husband again very soon." the imposing man added, a few seconds away from ending your life. However, Damiano didn't know what you were capable of. Even less now that you were driven by pure rage and despair.

“Shut the fuck up!” You suddenly yelled, your claws firmly anchored in your husband to make Damiano understand that no one would snatch him from your arms. Your voice, a seductive melody that could enchant like a siren’s song, suddenly sounded monstrous. Raw and primal, the way you screamed the threat echoed in the entire maze of hallways and made Tommy’s blood freeze in his veins, a few corridors away. “Fucking die!”

Damiano didn't know that he never stood a chance. You sealed that man's demise with one blunt arm movement as if you had wanted to chase a mosquito from your face.  

"Wh-What..."

Damiano, fell on his knees next to his dying friend, and writhed on the floor. With his two hands pressing on his chest, he suddenly started to choke and, right after, threw up a great amount of thick blood. Apart from the vomiting, blood soon seeped from his eyes and ears, bubbling like something inside was boiling them alive.

"P-Please!" He begged but you didn't stop. The man obviously tried to scream but the only sound he could produce was disgusting gurgles.

"Don't worry, you're going to meet your friend pretty soon." You replied with a cold and sardonic tone before closing your fist, the man's lungs responding to your gesture by imploding in his chest. Like his colleague's arms did a few minutes ago, Damiano's whole body crashed against the floor with a thud.

Quickly, you shifted back your attention to your husband and kept giving him all your energy while ignoring the black dots that were dancing in front of your eyes, as well as the awful, unbearable stabbing sensation in your core. You were definitely hurting yourself by using your power that much but you didn't give a fuck. “Arthur, please.” You growled, a feeling of dizziness building up so bad that you didn’t even hear the hurried footsteps that were coming closer, nor the hoarse, familiar voice of your brother-in-law.

"FUCK!" You exclaimed. You were losing Arthur again.

The three bodies lay strewn like discarded puppets, their lifeless forms twisted and broken on the blood-flown concrete floor. The once clean backroom had transformed into a nightmare realm of gore and horror that made Tommy's stomach turn upside-down.

The Peaky Blinder's boss took two steps back and brought his calloused hand to his mouth, fighting against the urge to puke – and God knew it took him a lot considering the atrocities he witnessed and did during the war. His turquoise gaze scanned the room, which had turned into a slaughterhouse. A fucking pool of crimson blood. First, he saw the limp and distorted corpse of Damiano, whose eyes were open wide in horror despite him being dead and cold. The terror in his frozen facial expression left no doubt about how awful his last moments must have been: he had suffered, and he had suffered more than a lot. Then, he caught a quick glimpse of the second victim. With his eyeballs reduced to a reddish foul mush, the lacerations on his face, and the abnormal number of stabbing wounds, the mafioso’s body was so maimed that it looked disgustingly grotesque.

Then he saw Arthur.

"Oh my God. Oh my fucking God — Arthur!"

Amidst the chaos, where the air hung heavy with the acrid and pungent scent of blood, Tommy's screams echoed far away in the distance as you knelt there, eyes wide open and silent tears streaming down your cheeks, mixed with dark trails of ruined mascara.

Tommy reacted immediately and knelt near his brother with a panic so uncontrollable that it swept away every ounce of coldness and self-control he usually displayed. He slapped his brother's cheeks several times in a vain attempt to help him come back to a conscious state but it didn't work. Thomas Shelby's fist hit the floor with frustration as the feeling of powerlessness crept into his heart. He was losing another brother and there was nothing he could do to save him.

But you could.

"Heaven, d'ya hear me?"

You let out a muffled whimper, or at least you thought you did as your senses saturated with one unique sound: a relentless ringing that echoed in the hollow caverns of your mind. With each pulse of your heart, the sound intensified, threatening to consume the last remnant of sanity you had left. The world around you had seemed to fade into obscurity, your sight blurry and reduced to only one color: red. Vibrant red splattered everywhere, on the walls, and yourself but most of it was on the floor. In fact, the ground itself seemed to writhe beneath the weight of the corpses, as crimson rivers flowed freely, painting the concrete in shades of crimson that gleamed like freshly spilled paint.

“Oi! Listen to me!” Tommy’s powerful voice suddenly snatched you from your daze just enough time to catch your attention and plunge his turquoise iris into your Arctic eyes.

“I—I can’t. I can’t, I can’t...” You repeated in a whisper, just like a broken record, because your husband’s pulse was weakening again, blind to your exhausting and painful efforts. Arthur was dying, your baby was dying and the intensity of the pain you went through was so insufferable that all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and wait for death to make this nightmare stop.

Tommy rapidly shifted his body to be by your side, his sharp eyes focused, but softer than usual. “You’ve got this,” he whispered, meeting your panicked gaze. “Keep going. Don’t stop.” He pressed his hand firmly over yours, steadying the trembling fingers that worked to save his brother. His voice was low, gravelly, but laced with a quiet strength he tried to share with you. His grip was warm, grounding you in the chaos, his presence like an anchor. At that moment, the weight of the world felt momentarily lighter with him by your side. You replied to his help with a muffled sob.

"You've got this!" Tommy tried to keep you from falling apart but the sight of a thin trickle of blood slowly running down your nose worried him almost to death. He looked at you and he knew. He knew that you had given everything – every ounce of your energy to save his brother, your magic now drained. Your hand trembled, still pressed to Arthur’s chest, but the world around you was seriously fading to black.

Caught amid this Hell with Tommy by your side, you didn't hear nor feel Polly, who had found the crime scene.

"Oh lord please help us, oh Lord, oh Lord..." Polly cried, horrified by the bloodbath as well as by the sight of you clinging to Arthur's limp body. She had already lost one of her nephews and couldn't bear the weight of losing another one. Not her sweet Arthur. Not him,

"We're fucking losing her too!" Tommy exclaimed, "fucking help me!"

"Heaven!" She called, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you but all you did was scream one last time. A haunting and otherworldly wail that pierced the darkness. A sound so agonizing and inhumane that it seemed to tear at the very fabric of existence. It echoed across the building, carrying with it the weight indescribable of sorrow and despair as your arms tightened your grip around your dying husband.

The smell of blood hid Tommy's musky perfume that was tingling your nostrils. The deafening ringing in your ears covered Polly and her nephew's voice. Your breaths came shallow and weak, your body becoming heavier as darkness crept in. Slowly, your eyes fluttered shut. In one final movement, you collapsed beside your husband, your last thought a silent hope that he would live.

Or that you would at least die trying to save him.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language. gif by the wonderful @alicent-targaryen.

✞ Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @lokigirlszendaya @justrainandcoffee @mischievouslittlecreature

[florsial]

thinking about how weird Sirius must've felt when he ran away from home. Yeah definitely sad and all over the place. But also one of my favorite things that I hc him doing after leaving Grimmauld was that he fully stopped acting like he had a brother. In this, I meant that he always made two cups tea, coffee, he would sometimes catch himself going for a second slice of cake he didn't want, and he would buy things with someone else in mind. And what's worse, is that he sometimes he can't even pass it off as it being for anyone other than Regulus.

Regulus who prefers his tea overly sweet or a specific brand from China that the Marauders either never tried or don't like, his coffee is also so sweet that no one else Sirius knows would drink it, a second slice of cake because Regulus would always be too embarrassed to get one himself, and stuff that Sirius remembers that he loves as kids.

I also definitely think Regulus does something like this as well. Leaving lights on accident in case Sirius would come back from sneaking out, only to remember that Sirius ran away, pouring an extra bowl of bian rou during dinner mindlessly and having to pour it back into the pot because there isn't anyone else to have the other bowl, leaving doors open because he was so used to Sirius following behind him, and leaving his bedroom door unlocked and a filled glass of water in case Sirius was too lazy to get it downstairs. The glass remains untouched the next morning.

They are both always so used to having the other around that it was just uncomfortable and strange.

[pumpkinsy0]

we all know after the shit pony went through his mental health would be hanging on BY A THREAD so i would love some hcs about how the people around support him and how they help him cope and recover

look at ponyboy still fighting on after his traumatic moment, look at my goat mannnnn so inspirational

•i think rlly the only reason y pony was THAT happy after everything was bc he was going off of adrenaline, but right after that, he went back to having sort of a slump

•when it comes to soda, he didnt wanna rely on him too much bc he felt like that would b asking too much of soda to take his own attention off his own issues and help him w his

•but soda ofc isnt gonna just let fate handle his baby brother, and pony cant push him away all the time so their relationship is like “ok finneeee u can help me w this but just make sure u _____ first”

•darry became more protective of pony, but in a bittt more of a motherly way, hes learned to pick his battles w pony and not fight w him over everything he doesnt agree w to save pony the energy

•ponys got a bit of paranoia, i can feel it, his nightmares can get even worse, and sometimes darry, soda, and pony just sleep together w pony sandwiched in between cause they got no weighted blanket amd pony feels safer while doin that

•steve cut back on calling pony things like a tag along cause he doesnt ACTUALLY want pony feeling like hes a burden, especially w how soda acted when he was gone he sees how important pony is (well he saw that before but yknow)

•steve isnt rlly going out of his way to hang out w pony, but he tries being as accepting as he can b w him, but its so awkward for the both of them bc its not like a complete 180??? more like a 90, they still bicker but not as much and thats so weird to em

•two bit would accompany pony to the graves, it doesnt happen much bc pony cant stand looking at them, but when hes feeling desperate two takes him, twos the one who visits the graves the most anyways

•pony had a huge eating problem for a week or so and everything just taste like bologna, so the gang had to just come together to find out what they should make bc he was just not eating squat

•pony got a huge fascination w fire and theyd notice him looking into it a lillll too long for comfort, basically disassociating, so theyd have to pull him back into the #realworld but this would mean that ponys heads r in the clouds and before they WOULD scold him for that, and they still do, just not as rough

•so for ponys protection, theres always someone w him, although they do feel bad bc theres nobody pony can hang out w thats rlly HIS age,,,unless he hangs out w,,,no,,,,i shant say his name,,,,

[aurora-the-kunoichi]

Camping Trip

This is a story I've been writing for @angelicdavinci. She blessed me with a drawing of Leonardo so I wanted to write her a little something as a thank you. She made the picture above for the story. I have gotten permission from her to post with the story.

Sorry it took so long!

It was an unseasonably warm fall evening, but the air still held the crisp sting of the seasons chill non the less. Angelica’s fingers of her outstretched hand ran along with the rushing current of the air speeding by her open window enjoying the lasting favorable weather. The black cherry Mazda Miata moved through the traffic with ease making its way to a secret location only a few people knew. A route Angelica had taken so many times before; she could probably make it blind folded.

The sunset ran across the skyline of New York painting the clouds and high-rises with vibrant reds and oranges as the sun lowered to its nightly rest. Her green eyes scanned over the people flooding the city’s streets making a ruckus over Friday’s endless possibilities. Glasses raised, horns honking and loud voices carrying over the vast concrete jungle promised a night to remember. But all she wanted to do was get to her friends and enjoy a quiet weekend away from the hustle and bustle of the busy city. Angelica smiled softly telling the Bluetooth to send a message to Donnie.

“Approaching”

A quick response followed, “I see you.”

A quick left and a right she entered into the alleyway and a false door opened allowing her access to the subterranean dwelling.  The garage door to the lair rumbled up groaning and squealing as it protested the heavy weight of the protective metal door.

“Geez Don, I think it’s time you oiled that thing up don’t you? I think New Jersey heard that fucker goin up.”

Donatello ignored his muscle-bound brother’s complaint watching her car speed through the opening. The car slowed coming to a stop just before two of the five inhabitants. Both leaned over resting their massive green mits on the warm hood smiling at the blonde behind the wheel.

Raphael’s lips parted in a genuine smile showing their friend his pearly white teeth. “If it isn’t Ms. Princess, are you ready the weekend?”

The door swung open and the 5’7 blonde stepped out grinning at the brute giving him a quick swat at his bicep. “I have been looking forward to this all week, you have no idea.” Before anything else could happen an orange tornado entered the garage, blue eyes set on his pretty target. “Angel!” Michelangelo screamed skirting by his two brothers to scoop up one of their favorite humans.

Angelica burst into a fit of laughter as the youngest swung her around placing a few well meaning kisses to her forehead before setting her down. “It’s good to see you too Mikey.” Her hands reached for his cheeks and pulled him down placing a small but sweet kiss on his forehead. She smirked at the pink mark her lipstick made but the youngest made no effort to wipe it free.

Michelangelo rose to his full height blue eyes flashing with victory. “I got the first kiss.”  

“Why ya gotta make it weird screwball?” Raphael’s large hand enclosed around the green dome of his brother’s head and pushed him away to get his own greeting. “We were wondering what took ya so long. Leo was about to call ya.” The behemoth lowered himself down and accepted a similar pink mark on his left cheek and returned the gesture to her right.

“You’re just jealous I got to her first.” Mikey laughed running back into the main part of the lair to finish whatever he had been doing before she showed up.

“Sorry I forgot something and had to head back up to my apartment. I found something Lee might like at the flea market the other day.”

Donnie came around Raphael and took his lip mark to the right cheek and gave his to her left. “He does love when you find him weird stuff.”

“Yeah sometimes I catch him just staring at his new gift.” Raphael smirked watching the eldest enter into the garage, arms filled with gear. “Speak of the devil.”

Angelica had seen him come in, she always noticed him like her vision had some sort of radar for the eldest of the four. It was either good luck or a curse; she had yet to figure out which one it was. She watched him set the sleeping bags and pillows on the nearby table and look up eyes meeting hers. For a split second she could have sworn his eyes dilated, just a little, hopefully just a little.

She nodded and smiled. “Evening Lee.”

Leonardo made his way over to her, eyes solely focused on Angelica instantly feeling the frustrations of the daily slip away the closer he got the woman. As soon as his massive arms made their way around her slim waist Leo let out a long sigh expelling the last of the stress and immersed himself into her embrace. “Anne.”

Reluctantly he released her and bent down. Leonardo could almost feel the tremor in her fingers as they slid around his cheeks and her lips pressed to his snout. But he knew he had to be imagining it, her nervous to touch him? They did this ritual every time she came down. They each got a kiss on the face somewhere, it was a welcome tradition she had initiated a few months after meeting them a year ago. The placement varied for his brothers but his always managed to be his nose. If only it was a little lower but he knew it would never come. Not for someone like him and especially from someone as wonderful as his Anne. 

Most people didn’t want to touch them let alone place their lips anywhere near their faces. Even April rarely gave out that type of affection, someone who had known them the longest. Needless to say the first time it happened it had made their whole month.

Donnie and Raphael passed the two carrying Angelica’s gear as Donnie looked over his shoulder. “Come on guys I want to get to the site before it gets too dark out.” 

“I think we have everything now that Anne is finally here, so we should be good to go.” Leo agreed turning Angelica towards the garbage truck giving her a playful push.

Just then Mikey came into the garage carrying two large coolers on his shoulders casually tossing one to Leo who caught it effortlessly. “Can’t forget the grub.” Mikey winked at the woman.

After the truck was loaded with their camping gear and everyone inside Donnie pulled out into the city heading towards upstate New York for the seclusion of the forest.

The car ride was relevantly calm, Angelica had managed to score a seat next to Leonardo who was showing her a new pressure point he had learned that helped with stress.

“Can I show you?”

More than willing Angelica nodded, “Oh please, there are days I could use a little help in that department.” 

Leo’s hands adjusted her small frame to face him and lifted to her throat where his thumb and middle finger pressed slightly into the back of her neck just above her shoulders. He pressed down slightly running his fingers back and forward slightly searching for something. He stopped when he found it. “Here, this is your trapezius.” The sword callused pads of his finger drug forward again and she felt the drip. “That’s where it ends. And just here.” They pressed down and the sound that came from her mouth made her cheeks grow red with embarrassment.

Raphael and Michelangelo chuckled under their breath but made no attempt to give her crap. But she did notice Raphael nudge Mikey and the youngest smiled nodding at the silent communication between them.

Leo’s fingers never faltered though, ignoring her vocal reaction. “You felt that right?” he asked.

“Yes, hard to miss that, took me a little by surprise.” Nice recovery; nailed it.

Leonardo reached for Angelica’s fingers lifting them to where he just had his hands and guided her fingers along the muscle. Finding the spot again Leo urged her to press down and this time she was prepared to the sensation and swallowed the groan.

“Pressing there and the same spot on the other side of your neck helps with relieving stress.”

Suddenly feeling a little warm, too close to him Angelica slipped back into her seat testing both spots she had just learned. “Thanks Lee, this will come in handy.”

“Anytime.” Leo smiled watching her practice what he had just shown her. A swell of pride warmed his chest seeing her fingers press exactly where he had shown her. At least he thought it was pride but now he felt a little longing disappointed the lesson was over so quick. He did enjoy being close to her, touching her. Just her presence calmed him, and he had noticed he craved it more and more. As easy as the thoughts came he chased them away, scolding himself at the inappropriateness of them.  She was his friend, nothing more. It would be irresponsible and counterproductive to think otherwise.

Finally reaching their destination far into the Up State New York woods the group congratulated Donnie on the surprisingly smooth trip.

“Ya outdid yourself Nerd! The shocks on this truck are impressive, I did not think this thing could make the trip but damn it did with flying colors.” Raphael’s hand slapped the back of Donnie’s shell making the tall mutant winch at the impact.

“Thanks. Only took 5 tries to get it right. Assembling, disassembling, reassembling, disassembling, ect. You get the picture. I’m sure I’ll get carpel tunnel from it.”

They unloaded the truck, and each found their spot for their tents and began to assemble them. Angelica had gone camping may times, loved it and had no troubles before setting up her tent. But alas her last tent had been torn apart by rats that had gotten into her storage unit. So, this was a new tent, and she was finding it a little hard to set up. She slipped the poles into their respective holes and lifted but stumbled over her own feet and nearly fell backwards but found herself cradled into two very large arms.

She looked up to see the blue eyes of Leonardo and a slight smirk across his face.

“Could you use some help?” he asked softly getting Angelica back to her feet.

She blushed adjusting the poles in her grip, “I can usually do this on my own, but an extra hand couldn’t hurt.”

After that, the work came easy. Leo let her take charge and helped when she needed. He found she stayed by his side mostly which he didn’t mind one bit.

Angelica did her best to stay close to Leo, for someone who lived in the sewers he smelt wonderful. Maybe is was the oil he used to sharpen his katana or perhaps their laundry detergent Donnie had created for their needs. Either way she enjoyed it and being close to the eldest made her heart happy. He was smarter than he let on and such a gentleman. And watching him train was another joy in itself. Each one of them were talented beyond belief it was like watching art in motion when she was able to sit in on training. But Leonardo was something else. Each motion was fluid and meticulous, he was perfection. The man was a master of his craft and their Sensei was proud of his dedication to his teachings.

“Anne?” Leo’s deep voice brought her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see him looking at her confused. “Where did you just go? You’ve been staring at my hands for a few moments. Is something wrong?”

“Oh!” Startled by the realization she had been staring at him Angelica stumbled over her words. “Sorry, I was..I was thinking about work.” Another nice save, smooth one. “Thank you for helping me with the tent. I really appreciate you..it!”  Distract and redirect!

“It’s no problem Anne, I’m always happy to help you. Anytime.”

“Hey guys!” Mikey called from the fire. “Grubs ready!”

Both made their way to the fire that already had the other three brothers waiting around it all staring at the two smiling.

“What?” Leo asked taking the hot foiled hobo dinner from his youngest brother.

“Nuthin Bro, just watching you two work together. I hope you like the food. I put shrimp and chicken in yours.” Mikey turned to Angelica handing her foil. “And for my lady the same as our fearless leader.”

“Thank you Mikey.”

The five of them ate around the fire laughing and telling jokes. Angelica looked up at Leo shoveling food into his mouth and started to laugh. “Slow down Lee, no ones’ going to take it away from you.”

He stopped mid chew and smiled sheepishly before swallowing. “I can’t help it. I love these things and I’m hungry. I forgot to eat after training this morning.”

“I’m just messing with you.” Angelica patted his knee before taking another bit of her dinner.

“Yeah fearless, messing with you.” Raphael winked at Leo.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Suddenly Angel jumped up from her chair and ran to her tent and shuffled through her bag before pulling out a small box. Jumping over a stump with her package in hand Angelica made her way back to Leonardo putting the box carefully in his massive hands.

He turned the box over looking at the detailed carvings on the box, they were Japanese and the craftsmanship was astonishing. “What’s this?”

“Just something I found a few days ago at a flea market. It’s nothing too special but I thought you’d like it.” She watched in excitement as his large fingers unlocked the front latch opening the box to reveal the contents. His blue eyes lit up taking out the delicate wooden pen. “Is this?”

“Yeah, a Japanese calligraphy set. They guy said it was old. The ink dried up a long time ago but I’m sure you can still buy it and fill up the bottle. That is if you want to use it and not just for looks.”

“I love it.” Leo breathed looking over the box and what was in it. He could tell from the resin surrounding the tip of the bottle that it was over a hundred years old. Maybe more. “Do you have any idea what this is worth?”

“Um, no not really the guy didn’t seem to know much about it. Said it was his great grandmother’s who had just recently passed away. I told him I had someone special who will appreciate it.”  As she said the last sentence, she overheard Mikey whisper “Special” Raphael. Be quiet you two…. “Do you really like it?”

“I am so excited to use it Anne, thank you so much.” Without thinking the large mutant leaned over to give Angelica a quick kiss to the top of her head unaware the redness that flushed her cheeks.

The evening progressed into the night until the only day dweller began to yawn. Angel stretched and bid the four brother’s goodnight leaving them at the fire.

After a few minutes of quiet Raphael finally broke the silence staring straight at Leonardo, “Man I don’t how you do it?”

“Do what?”

“She obviously likes you, you fuckin mook. Has for a long as time, and yet you refused to make a move.”

Genuine shock ran over the leader face, “She absolutely does not.” Leo coughed trying to keep his voice low hoping she wouldn’t hear. She had only been in her tent for 20 minutes; the probability of her being asleep was low.

Mikey piped in playfully, “Nah son, she digs you dude. Like, she brings you presents all the time, does everything in her power to hang with you the most and who gets those damn nose kisses?  Seriously, in so many ways you’re smart but others you’re dumb as a box of rocks my dude. Oblivious to women and their ways.”

Leonardo looked at the box in his hands and back to her tent. There was no way. “I mean look at her and then look at me? I’m a mutant turtle who lives in the sewers and she’s a beautiful woman, she wants a man who can take her out to dates, spoil her. No, she doesn’t feel any sort of way for me. She just thinks of me as a friend.”

This time Donnie spoke getting up from his seat to add more wood to the fire. “Leo, her heart rate rises every time you come into the room, her face flushes. And don’t tell me you haven’t scented the air when she’s around you, her pheromones change. She definitely has a thing for you. Even I’ve seen it.”

“You think she…?”

“Yes.” All three of his brothers said in unison.    

As the night ended Leo crawled into bed, head still spinning from what his brothers said. He was still having trouble wrapping his head around the thought of Anne liking him?

The next morning Angelica woke with the sunrise, she dressed warm and exited her tent for a small hike. She made a quick note for the guys on what she was doing and the direction she was heading. Because she knew they’d be asleep for a little bit longer, being night dwelling vigilantes in all.  

They were back in the woods pretty far so there really weren’t’ any types of trails to follow so she made her own. Every few feet she would mark a large tree with an arrow in the direction she was going. This way it would be easy to find her way back to camp or if one of the guys came looking they would know where to go.

She took in the surroundings, the stunning colors of the fall leaves, the life still thriving on the forest floor, and birds still inhabiting the forest waiting for the right time to migrate. Pulling out a granola bar to keep herself satisfied until Mikey woke up, she broke of a piece and popped it in her mouth.

Soon she stumbled upon a creek and followed it up to where it dumped into a small lake hidden in the trees. Around the perimeter there were large boulders sitting above the surface and she spotted one large enough for her to lie down on.

Using the rocks she crossed, hopping each one like a bridge to reach her chosen location. The large rock was warm from the sun and thankfully the morning dew had evaporated in the sun’s rays. She set down her small backpack and lowered herself to watch the small fish just below the surface feeding on algae.

Angelica took to her pack pulling out a drawing pad and a pencil and found her subject. The small rapids of the creek bubbling into the lake was a sight to be seen. The crystal clear water running over the piles of rocks, the sun reflecting across the liquid almost made the rush of water stand still. It was beautiful.

As Angelica began to sketch she was oblivious to the large mutant approaching slowly.

The blue banded turtle watched her intently honed in on her subject. So intense as the stroke of her pencil moved across the white paper followed by her finger to mark a little shading. He loved watching her draw, she was beyond talented and he was so proud of her.  He watched for a few moments and coughed to make himself known. He didn’t want to startle her.

She looked up from her sketch pad and a bright white smile spread over her lovely features as she saw her guest. “Good morning Lee.”

Leonardo made his way over to her dropping down next to Angelica to see her progress.

“I thought you’d still be asleep.” She mused turning to the leader.

“I’m a light sleeper and I heard her get out of your tent.”

“Oh I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Please don’t be sorry,” he interrupted her quickly. “I don’t get to see the sunrise often so I was more than pleased to be woken up and see the colors. Besides, I was hoping to get some alone time with you.”

“You did?”

“Yes, something was brought to my attention last night and I wanted to talk to you about it.”

A sinking feeling arose in her stomach suddenly, “I hope it’s nothing bad? Did I do something?”

His hands came up softly, “No, no nothing like that. But it could be something important.” Suddenly he because very nervous, he wrung his hands a little and took a deep breath. This was unknown territory for him but Leo had to know before it drove him crazy. “My brothers made me aware I might be oblivious to a certain way you might be feeling about me?”

The widening of her pupils and the flush of red across the apples of her cheeks told him volumes. So it was true. He watched her mouth open and close in a soft panic. But very quickly she calmed and looked into his blue eyes. A very serious but matter of fact expression over took her features before Angel set her sketch pad and pencil on the stone next to her.

“Yes.” Angelica nodded with purpose now. “I do feel a certain way about you. I have for quite awhile but I knew nothing would ever happen.”

His heart dropped a little at those words, he wasn’t boyfriend material, “Because I can’t give you what a regular man can give you?” Another emotion flashed across her face then realization.  

“No, of course not! You could give anyone anything they desired Lee. You are an amazing man, anyone would be lucky for you to call them yours. I just didn’t think you would want someone like me? I don’t know ninjutsu, or how to fight at all. I like pretty things, pink and feminine dresses. I’m soft, not someone you, a hero whose saved the world would fall in love with.”

Leonardo turned his whole body towards her resting his large palms on her small shoulders. He was speechless for a few moments trying to find the right way to let her know she was being ridiculous and that he would be more than thrilled to call her his. But his body did the talking, his fingers moved up her arms ghosting her throat to cup her cheek bones. His blue eyes met green and a smile spread over his face. So very gently he leaned down pressing his lips to hers. He waited for the push back maybe this was too quick but she gave no resistance. As a matter of fact her hands rose for his face as her lips parted to deepen the kiss just a little. She melted into him for a few moments longer before they both parted slightly out of breath from the intensity of it.

“I never….” He started as he licked her from his lips. “I never thought you would ever think of me other than a friend so I never entertained the idea. But, I think deep in my heart I always hoped you would. You sooth me Anne, more than any mediation session could ever provide. I look forward to each visit hoping they would never end. I…”

Her finger moved over his lips to quiet his mind. “You’re all I think about, from when I wake up in the morning to when I fall asleep. I see you in things, wondering if you’d like it. Or trying something I think you’d like. Just thinking of you makes me happy. Not just because you’ve saved the world or that you’re incredibly handsome but because of your character. You’re so smart, so gentle when you need to be, loving and faithful to those who love you. I’d be down in the lair every day if I could but I didn’t want to wear out my welcome. I was afraid you’d get sick of me.”

“Never.” He countered with genuine sincerity. His thumbs ran over her cheeks and he signed resting his forehead against hers. “I don’t need anyone with the same skill set as me. I’m hard, my life is hard, we train every day to be at our best, to stay ready. Softness is what I need for balance. I need gentle and feminine to take away the stress of the day, too help me calm down and relax.” He looked in her eyes again. “I can’t promise you perfection but I do want to give you my word that I will promise to put as much effort and heart into this as I do with my passion to protect the city.”

“And that’s all a girl can ask for.”

[mars-ipan]

it is so nuts trying to have a healthy relationship with food when your sibling is trying to be a gym bro

[starry-bi-sky]

fast food is the best course of action after causing a scene. ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴʏᴀʟ ᴀʟ ɢʜᴜʟ ᴀᴜ

(First Post Here and Second Post Here

--------

Danny finds Sam easily.

She's right where she said she was over the phone: standing outside on a balcony, in Gotham, at Father's many charity functions. 

("Would you still be willing to fly over to Gotham, Danny?" She asks, her voice ringing clear through the speakers. Danny is already climbing out his window before she even finishes her sentence. He was just about to settle down for the night, his ghosts would know better by now than to disturb him at this time. The Box Ghost not included.)

("Of course." He says, sounding more confident than he feels. Sam was one of his best— closest friends, he would do anything she or Tucker asked. Even if it means stepping foot into his Father's city. He drops down silently, and walks through the house's ghost shield. "Would you like me to bring you anything?")

(Sam sighs through the phone, relief leaking through. "One of the veggie burgers from Nasty Burgers would be great, with their new ecto-fries. Extra salt. I'm sick of all this rich people food.")

(A small smile pulls across Danny's face, tilting at the corner as his living form falls away to his ghost self. "Alright," he says, and kicks himself off the ground, "I'll be there in a few minutes.")

("Thanks, Danny.")

He had the bag of food with him, stored in a container he had to run back to the house to get that would prevent the food from cooling during his flight over. Clutching it in hand, he floats down behind Sam and sheds his invisibility.

Being visible and being invisible always felt different, but in a way Danny can never describe, no matter how many times he tries to think about it. It's like a gut-feeling, a sixth sense, he always knows when he's visible and when he is not.

His ghost form burns away like steel wool being lit, and Danny drops the last foot to the ground silently. In his other hand lies his thermos, but filled with plain ectoplasm — lazarus water. "I have your food." 

(He brought the thermos for himself — his side was still healing from his last fight with Technus. The ghost impaled him with a broken pipe, and Danny returned the favor by wedging his sword into his chest. Technus had been quite offended by him ruining his favorite coat.)

Sam jumps a foot into the air, and her hand slams across her mouth to muffle the shriek she lets out as she whirls around. "Danny!" She hisses, her voice rising in pitch, and her eyes narrow at him into a glare. "Freaking-- Tucker's right, we seriously need to put a bell on you."

"You have been saying that for years," Danny grins, sharp-toothed and jack-knifed, and passes the container over to her. "And yet I've yet to see any kind of bell." He was going to start getting disappointed at this rate.

As Sam takes the container, Danny hops up onto the railing and looks around. He hadn't seen any of Father's other children lurking around the building before he revealed himself, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that their stealth skills were poor.

He wasn't that arrogant.

...Anymore.

"Oh you will." Sam threatens, unzipping the container and grabbing the takeout bag. "I'll get you a collar and everything, we can start calling you Catwoman." When she pulls out her fries, Danny snaps forward and steals one from the box, ignoring her indignant yell as he pops it into his mouth.

"I spent my own money on these fries, Sam." He sniffs, leaning away from her with a stifled huff of laughter as she swats at him. "So they are technically my fries. And also, Catwoman would be a poor thief if she wore a bell."

Sam grumbles at him, and takes a bite out of a handful of fries. "I'll venmo you money." She says past a mouthful of food, Danny would have been disgusted in the past, when he was still new. But he's gotten used to this... normality. So he makes no reaction to it. "How does three hundred bucks sound?"

Danny immediately frowns.

"Did you have a fight with your parents?" He asks, eyes glancing to the doors. Doors that are covered heavily by curtains and blurred heavily, decadent music passing through in muffled sounds. He shifts himself away from the light. "You only spend that much money when they've pissed you off."

Sam's chewing stops, and her annoyed expression falters into one Danny knows well -- hurt, furrowed brows, a small frown, disappointment -- and she turns her head away from him. She swallows. "Yeah." she says, quiet.

Oh.

Danny knows that tone too.

Guilt settles like a rock in his chest. He leans forward, "Was it about me again?" He wasn't blind to the disdain Sam's parents had for him, far from it. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten into a fight with them over her friendship with him and Tucker. But especially him. He unsettled people, even after years of observing his age-mates and trying to mimic their behavior, and anyone who knew him in middle school knew it was an act.  

Sam's silence gives him all the confirmation he needs, and the guilt heavies itself with the weight of the sky. Danny's never much cared about others' opinions of him -- he is (was?) an Al Ghul, they never heed to mind what the weight of a simpleton's thoughts.

But.. he cares a little a lot when it hurts his friends like this. He presses his lips together into a thin line, and forces the words out through his teeth. It sounds robotic. Al Ghul's do not apologize. "I... am sorry." But this one does. It doesn’t come easy. 

Sam sighs through her nose, and turns to roll her eyes at him. "Don't apologize on their behalf when you won't even apologize for your own; their assholes." She says, and goes reaching for more fries.

It's a sign, a signal. A silent word for the conversation to move on, to change. A distraction. Danny grasps it with both hands, and makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. And like he has learned, puts a hand to his chest like a scandalized American southern lady. "I apologize! I apologize plenty."

She snorts. "Only when you think it matters." And pokes him in the ribs sharply with her fry. He withholds a wince and snatches it out of her hands. "You're about as unapologetic as they come, Danny J. Fenton. I've seen you look more sincere when you're trying to drive your sword between Vlad's ribs."

"Stabbing Masters is a very important task for me, Sam." Danny says in only partially faux-seriousness. Masters has yet to realize that Danny had no interest in becoming his son, but he had to (reluctantly) admire his persistence. "Of course I will apply myself to it as best as I can."

He grins triumphantly when Sam laughs, and she reaches over to shove him square in the chest. He barks out a laugh of his own as he grips onto the balcony railing and catches himself at an angle.

"Quit with your method actor talk," Sam retorts, grinning sharply while Danny twists himself back up elegantly. "I know you can talk like a normal person, I've literally seen you do it."

Danny sniffs, and snatches more fries from the carton as revenge. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Sam." He says, grin-twisting when Sam rolls her eyes. "My speech has always been this way. This 'normal' you speak of, I do not know it."

She waves her hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But if you keep talking like that, I'm pushing you off the balcony."

"Such violence, Sam."

He gets a laugh again, full of disbelief without any of the annoyance. "I'm gonna be the one that stabs you, oh my god. Pot meet kettle." She looks at him again, smiling.

Danny smiles back, and with a flick of his wrist pulls out a kunai from his sleeve. It was one of the few weapons Mother was able to pass on to him whenever she made her scarce visits. He cherishes it well, along with anything else she was capable of giving him. 

He holds the handle out to her, and watches her face shift from disbelief to shock, then back to disbelief. "Then you're gonna need a weapon to do that." 

"Of course you have a pointy object on you." She mutters, and takes the kunai and puts it in her purse. Danny makes a pleased hum, it resonates low in his core, and drops his hand. "When do you not have a pointy object on you?"

As if to make her point, Danny's hands twist near his side, and he holds his palms up to her, revealing the shobo he had also hidden on him. He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Never." He lowers his hand, and pockets the small weapon once again. 

Sam huffs, "Of course," she repeats, "thanks. I was gonna bring a knife but..."

Danny finishes the sentence for her, kicking his feet idly and knowingly. "The security at the door?" He'd seen them on his flight over the building. It wouldn't do much in the face of the Rogues, but at least they were good at keeping appearances and keeping out the smaller threats.

He rolls his eyes and turns his head away, looking up to the ugly, smog-covered skies. There was no bat signal in the air, and while that was a good thing, Danny almost wished there was. He wanted to see it. "I saw, and I would’ve called Father foolish if he hadn’t hired help. He attracts trouble almost as badly as I do."

"Maybe it's hereditary," Sam jokes, laughing under her breath. With her fries finished, she started on her veggie burger. "At least your dad isn't a vigilante like you are."

Danny smiles wryly. It felt nice to be able to talk more freely about this. That he didn't have to hide the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne, now that Sam knew it from her own accord. Maybe he could have conversations like these more often. Even if it was limited to Bruce Wayne only.

(Even if it felt a little terrifying to know that his father was so close by, close enough that Danny could reach out and touch him. To speak to him. But how would he explain that? And with an audience?)

(He’s wanted to see him since he was a kid, and he still does. It clings onto him like a cough that doesn’t go away after the cold already has, and while it has faded over the years, it clings. His mother’s words still ring in his ears however; it’s not safe. It’s not safe.)

(And isn’t that why he faked his death in the first place? So that his little brother would be safe? Why he gave up the heirship, his home, his Mother, Damian, and his chance to meet his Father? Going to see Father, even now, would be throwing that all away. He has to stay away.)

(Why is Damian with Father if staying with Father was unsafe?) 

He just needed to tell Tucker. Danny wouldn’t keep him out of the loop, he was just as much as his friend as Sam was. His eyes draw towards the door, where the golden glow of lights was still pouring through, where music was playing loudly. "Yeah, fortunately." 

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Danny finally cracks open his thermos. The pipe Technus impaled him with was covered in a goo that Danny didn’t recognize, but whatever it was, his injury was taking its time healing. The ectoplasm was speeding it up. 

He isn’t sure what the difference between the ectoplasm that Drs. Fenton collected and Grandfather’s Lazarus pools is, but there’s a difference. He swirls the thermos slowly, watching as the ectoplasm inside twists into a small whirlpool sluggishly. 

When left alone, it thickens into a consistency similar to egg whites, or perhaps a thick smoothie, but reverts back into a water-like substance when moved and swirled. It was strange; unexplainable. He can understand, to an extent, why the Drs. Fenton are so obsessed with studying it and the dimension it comes from. 

Sam watches him idly as he brings the thermos to his lips and drinks from it. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of relief washing over Danny as if someone had put a soothing balm onto an injury. It buzzes down to his fingertips, and when he lowers the thermos, he licks his lips and watches the tips of his fingers burn green like frostbite. 

“Your hair turned white again.” Sam comments, her hand reaching out and touching the hair on the nape of his neck. While it’s not the first time Sam’s touched his hair, it still makes him tense up with her hand so close to his throat. Instinct. dan

He ignores the urge to bat her hand away, humming thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it does that.” He says, pulling down his bangs to see if they’ve also turned white. No, still black. He lets go. “Let me guess; my eyes are green too?” He lifts the thermos again and peers into the chrome casing. 

Sam nods, “Yep, but it’s only the, uh.” She makes a circle around her eyes with her finger. “The iris part. Everything else is fine.” 

Danny can see that. The faint reflection on the chrome casts back an intense green. He takes another sip. It chills the back of his teeth, and he can feel his canines warp and sharpen. He runs his tongue over them, and swallows. 

Sam is still watching him, her fingers drumming against the balcony railing. “What’s it taste like?” 

“Carbonated.” He says dryly, before taking a large swig. He couldn’t name a specific flavor if he tried, it changed every time he took a sip. The only thing that stayed consistent was that it tasted carbonated. And slightly sweet. When he pulls the thermos away, Danny twists his body towards her and offers it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to try?” 

Her reaction is immediate. Sam’s nose scrunches up and her mouth twists into a smile, and she makes a huffing-laugh sound. “No, thank you.” She pushes it away lightly with her fingers, “I don’t know how to explain to my parents why my hair is white.” 

Right. Danny pulls the thermos away and puts it down beside him, straining his eyes to see if the rest of his hair has changed colors. Even just his first sip would take half an hour to fade back to its normal black, and he was a halfa. He had no idea how long it’d take to fade on Sam, who was human. 

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and Danny snaps his head towards the source. There’s a figure, small, a boy, trying to hide behind one of the curtains at the door. His form just barely peeking out from the angle Danny was sitting at. He wouldn’t have seen him if the boy hadn’t moved. 

His fingers curl tightly into the railing, and he breathes in sharp. Sam’s smile crumbles away and she turns to see what he’s looking at. “I should go.” He says, and reaches for his thermos. “There’s someone spying on us. Don’t say anything, just look at me.” 

Sam’s expression warps, twists. Her eyes widen, her jaw starts to drop before fixing itself into place, and her shoulders curl up and tense. She forces it all to smooth over, and she leans casually against the railing. There’s a tick in her jaw. “I see.” Her voice comes through teeth. “Do you think they saw you?”

“I am not sure.” Danny says. He keeps an eye on the figure as he twists himself over and grabs the Nasty Burger bag and the container. He tries not to look like he’s rushing. He is. How long has that boy been there? How much did he see? Did he hear anything? 

“Father, fortunately, has privacy films on the glass. Nobody should have seen me unless they’re specifically trying to peep through the door.” He says. The boy seems to realize that Danny was starting to leave. And, his heart beginning to sink, instead of leaving, moves to grab the door handle instead.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Danny’s breath catches in his throat, he’s hoping that isn’t who he think it is. But how else would he have not noticed an eavesdropper on their conversation unless it was someone who was capable of bypassing those skills? He told himself that he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that his siblings’ had poor stealth. He got distracted. 

Five years, five years. He refuses to let that go down the drain. He zips up the container and throws his legs over the other side of the railing, his back facing the door. He hears the doorknob click, and without a word to Sam, slips off down the side and down to the ground below.

Just in time. The once muffled music now sounds blaring as the door presumably is thrown open and the pull of invisibility washes over him like a second skin. He doesn't stay to see who it is.

[sammygender]

wrt prev post and sam’s original ‘fed demon blood by azazel as a baby’ arc like. actually that was the most insane thing to see depicted on my television especially when it seemed like no one else i knew or followed was talking about it. it felt so explicit and yet it was sooo deep in metaphor. she walked in on us. sammy, you’re my favourite. god it must be terrible to know something happened but that you’ll never be able to remember it or tell anyone about it. never be able to rip it out or scrub it clean. so azazel could get into my nursery and- bleed in my mouth? because i wasn’t clean. these trials - they’re purifying me. anyway. augh

[bleue-flora]

Wait... Dream was born on August 12, 1999 and Dream was arrested in the Disc Finale on January 20, 2021 soo... wait, wait, wait, that means he was only 21 when he was imprisoned for life in a small lava covered box!... Did I do that math right? 21?! Man was barely able to drink legally in the United States and they gave him a life sentence in a boiling cell with nothing but lava, raw potatoes, a clock, and some books?!... oh my god...

[channnel]

Urogi got a little something for his bro

[proodence]

I'm rewatching Alex Rider for like the 7th time but with my boyfriend and guys season 2 is so fucking good SEASON 2 IS SOOO GOOD

Alex being such a cheeky brat with the department and Alan Blunt losing his mind because Alex is being so clever and annoying

The slowly building mystery with all the pieces that gradually come together

Alex and Kyra being so cute with the washer and "survivors club" and "keeping score" of who has saved each other's life the most (and the end scene where he's looking up at her from the stage🥹😭)

Jack having her own storyline that actually serves the story and gives her character a purpose

Tom and Kyra both helping to progress the plot in ways that are genuinely required from them and makes sense for their characters

The subtle hints that Yassen is going to wind up helping Alex in the end, the way his character gradually becomes more complex with each episode

Alex just generally being so smart, so resourceful, so capable and just really encompassing his character, not to mention the genuine depth that comes from his trauma + him accidentally getting people killed over the course of the season (Blunt telling him he has blood on his hands)

The tension that builds within The Department as Smithers and Mrs. Jones start keeping secrets from Blunt about Alex

Damian Cray just getting absolutely dogpiled by Alex and the gang who just keep screwing over his plan again and again

Alex and Yassen FINALLY having a full conversation and it holds so much weight and hits so good

The part where Sabina cracks Anders over the head with her own laptop (honorable mention)

All the cheeky light hearted bits where the kids are just being shitheads with too much power, like cutting off the electricity to the whole postal code just to use the computer lab

And then on the flip the angst that comes from literally no one believing Alex about anything for like 60% of the season

It's just scene after scene of "oH THIS PARTS SO GOOD" and it doesn't stop until the very end

has it been long enough that I can say that season 3 just doesn't hit the same😭

[aroaceleovaldez]

doodle page from a couple months ago of Nico having way too many immortal friends

also yes i did just use Nyx’s Hades design. it’s a good design.

[fisherrprince]

oh so alisaie’s exaggerated bully behavior is 80% fanon. saying this she casually picks up a large rock

[triglycercule]

hhhhidea...,,,, CUTE idea (kinda?) dust reading to phantom papyrus during night to lull him to sleep,,,, but really its just a way for him to pretend that everythings not really that shit (as if phantom paps isn't just dust's denial incarnate) and to help him NOT wake up because of a nightmare again or something

(and just because i can't resist now im imagining this with mtt. not that dust stopped reading to paps in place of killer and horror (because he wouldnt he simply wouldn't) but now the two join them for storytime. horror knocks out pretty damn fast and eventually dust falls asleep too after he makes sure that paps is satisfied with the amount he read and then killer's just left to sit there. maybe he tries to fall asleep maybe he doesn't,,,, maybe he picks up the book and continues reading but EITHERWAY,,,,,, this scene in my head so 💥💥💥😇😇😇)

[spotaus]

Thinking about Orchid and her connection to my take on Gender (because this was meant to be about her and the Crew but it just devolved into a character analysis kinda??? More trauma-dumping maybe???) This is very much an oc/personal rant so feel free to ignore it 🫡

So, Orchid started off as a character I didn't really think much of (hear me out this is going to be relevant) because I wanted to add a 'girl' character but didn't know what to *do* with her, y'know? She was always going to be the strongest one there, she had the odds stacked in her favor with her parents. She was always going to be the gloomy side-character to match Reset's energy. But I think she's gone through every stage of Generic Woman I could possibly find.

At first she was angry and abrasive (think Fell!Sans) where every other word was a curse and she was likely to throw the first punch then laugh as she kicks her enemy while they're down. This was when Reset was a cartoonishly self-centered villain whose goal was simply to prove others wrong. Then Orchid became a sort of sisterly figure. This was short-lived, but she was the one comforting people who Reset would torment, but would ultimately follow his orders, because at this point he was actually a danger and sadistic. And then there was the phase where the story mellowed out and she became the token Goth Girl who, yes she was strong, but was heavy on the 'whatever' energy. Then there was her Era of deep self-loathing and anxiety about her worth that held her back and made her a much more timid and meek character who would only lash out on occasion.

Now, Orchid is the best of those iterations I've written yet. She's calm, level-headed, and a natural leader. Her father raised those traits into her. But she's very reactive, and can be silly, and when she's comfortable it's likely that air of importance transforms into something more comfortable and familiar. She laughs loudly and grins wide, she likes loud video-games but loves to read in the quiet. She's extremely disciplined, and normally no one can get through her tough exterior besides her best friend, Reset. She does what she does for her own enjoyment, sure, but she's thought of every angle and makes her choice to help Reset and control the others with her whole chest. She still worries she won't live up to her invisible expectations, and that and her loyalty are her two driving forces.

I know that Orchid is important to me because she's the longest-running female oc I've had. I have a rough relationship with womanhood/girlhood and I know looking back that Orchid recieved every ounce of my distaste for being a woman that I could shovel into her. That never made her less of a character, she was actually always one of my favorites, and rarely was she a 'punching bag oc'. I just... projected onto her a lot. And she's a good sign of how I've learned who I am. I've decided that my own femininity is something I could live without. I'd rather not associate myself with it, and I'd like to leave it in my past, focusing on a future where I'm not tied down with any gender roles or expectations. That won't happen, but I've come to terms with it myself. Orchid though? I figured out through her that I don't have to hate women characters. My own distaste for my circumstances doesn't mean I have to push it onto my characters (on God I've never expressed anything rude to actual people, that'd be rude as hell and uncalled for, but I have a bad habit of disliking fictional women in media). So, Orchid is a well-roubded character finally. She has motivations abd goals and a *lot* more depth than I ever expected her to. She's happy with being a woman, she's content. She's not treated differently for it in unfair ways by those she cares about, so she doesn't mind it. She likes to wear pretty outfits and lets Reset add bows to her ribbons. She doesn't let being a woman hold her back in the slightest.

So, yeah. Orchid is one of my babies. If I ever leave this Fandom behind for good, she's one that's coming with (Ichor, Orchid, and Pretender all have human designs I can use elsewhere lol-) but in the meantime I'll just rotate her around in my brain for a while longer.

If I'm right, she's been with me for nearly 5-6 years and I went through a *lot* with her as an outlet. So, she's kinda just like an old stuffed animal. A lil ripped, matted fur, maybe a stain or two, but there's a story there and that makes it important beyond belief.

[cienie-isengardu]

[MK1] Bi-Han & Kuai Liang. Good brother? Evil brother? Nah, just different reactions to trauma, part 3

part 1, part 2

The previous part helped me lay a ground to establish the main difference between Kuai Liang and Bi-Han. Scorpion, as a dedicated follower of father and Liu Kang’s authority is what I had called the Believer. He does not question the nature of Lin Kuei duty, as he built his life around it. Bi-Han on another hand is definitely a Questioner, as he questions and undermines not only the wisdom of Fire God or even his own father but also the reasons why his clan should serve Earthrealm in the first place as he sees such servitude as enslavement. So one brother follows orders of those he considers to be his superiors while the other, the same as all know to us major cryomancers, has a rocky relationship with authority.

Being the sons of Grandmaster definitely influenced their life by how they were raised, because beside the hardship of physical training they, as heirs, needed to be prepared for their future duties to the clan. As the eldest, such additional education was aimed primarily on Bi-Han, and depending on how big is the age gap between brothers, he could be more involved into clan politics - and in result more aware of the inner working of Lin Kuei and the unrest of his people than Kuai Liang or Tomas were. I will expand this thought soon, for now let's talk about the Grandmaster and Mother, as the first authority figures that shaped and influenced both brothers.

FATHER

There is no doubt that their father played a great role in shaping Kuai Liang and he meant a lot to the younger brother. During story mode we had 6 main scenes in which Lin Kuei brothers interacted with each other:

waiting together for Liu Kang

before infiltrating Fortress

after Bi-Han defeated Nitara and Ermac

before brothers separated to carry on their parts of mission

Bi-Han’s betrayal

the second confrontation between brothers that lead to Kuai Liang and Bi-Han fight + Kuai Liang and Tomas talking over unconscious body of Sub-Zero 

Out of 6 examples, four was focused on the ideological conflict between Sub-Zero and his brothers - and in all of those scenes, Kuai Liang was talking about father in one way or another

“His teaching did not pass with him. They should still guide us." “We must honor his vision Bi-Han." “Bi-Han!! How could you?! Father would turn in his grave if he saw this!" "We must chart a new course. One that both honors our Father's legacy and serves Earthrealm."

but outside the importance of father and his teaching, had almost nothing meaningful to say in the presented interactions. What is frankly a pretty alarming detail. Not only because Kuai Liang barely interacted with Tomas before he needed his support (6th interaction scene), but also he does not contribute much to the mission - the only one time he does say anything relative to the job at hand is when Smoke is out of the picture.

In contrast, Bi-Han and Smoke talked about how to process the mission on two separate occasions - before and during infiltrating the fortress, even though Tomas is the least battle experienced out of the three brothers (confirmed by his BIO and the falling scene) and the one about whom frustrated Bi-Han said to not have Lin Kuei blood.

And this is very surprising choice of creators, as it was Kuai Liang to whom other characters will look up for leadership during battle to close the portals, so A) he doesn’t lack the skills and self-confidence to lead a mission and B) he was no afraid of Bi-Han nor Tomas as he spoke his mind openly around his brothers. 

For the majority of Bi-Han’s chapter, literally all Scorpion has to say was to critique Sub-Zero even for things not worth the scorn[1] or bring father into discussion despite perfectly knowing this will only frustrate his elder brother more. 

Again for contrast, during the same chapter Bi-Han spoke of things not related to his father or ambitious plans for Lin Kuei’s future. As in:

discussing mission with Smoke on two different occasions

enjoying the fight for his own personal reasons (glory, testing his skills against worth opponents)

childhood memory - hearing the stories about Nitara’s people as a child

Sub-Zero’s chapter alone gives us a good hint of differences between Bi-Han and Kuai Liang. Scorpion is all about father and tradition to the point he barely interact with Smoke despite his own assurance “We may not share blood, but we are brothers” and has little to nothing nice or supportive to say to his elder brother despite their close bond (as provided by intro dialogues: Kuai Liang believing their bond couldn’t be broken and Bi-Han wishing to rule with Kuai Liang at his side).

In all fairness there is something almost fanatical in the way Scorpion acted at this point in story mode and it would be easy to claim this blind-like dedication to father is what Kuai Liang was at the core. However, like I said in the previous part, the same as Bi-Han’s behavior was influenced by emotion out of his control, the frustration we were told by Scorpion and shown through Sub-Zero’s angry gesticulation, the same assumption should be made for Kuai Liang. The best hint comes from the interaction between brothers before they attempted climbing on the wall.

Sub-Zero: “We must find a less guarded section before attempting an ascent. Finally we face a worthy foe. Victory will bring us glory." Scorpion: “Glory? We fight for duty." Sub-Zero: “Does our Father's ghost possess you? All I hear is his voice."

Saying someone is possessed is a strong way to emphasize how a person is acting differently than usual. By Bi-Han’s frustrated reaction we can assume that the way Kuai Liang behave and speak mimic the behavior of their parent - and if Sub-Zero was constantly rebuked by father the way he is rebuked by his younger brother over everything, whatever big or small matter, it could be the origin of his growing frustration. 

However we need to keep in mind that Kuai Liang was deeply affected by the unexpected death of their father, so this event could influence the way he interacted with his brothers, especially with Bi-Han. There is no reason to doubt they were once close, but I think the moment when Kuai Liang lost not just a parent but the most important authority figure, he started treating father’s wisdom not as just a guidance but some sort of Sacred Laws he - and his brothers - needs to follow to the letter.

At first in story mode Kuai Liang only says “His teaching did not pass with him. They should still guide us” to which Bi-Han replies that father’s wisdom can guide them but not “shackle” (limiting). But the more conflict escalates, the more Scorpion insists “We must honor his vision Bi-Han” yet he does not provide any real argument why they must do it actually. Like yes, sons should respect their father and be obedient while tradition is an important part of one’s culture, but Kuai Liang never goes out of his way to provide any example of what is good about that wisdom in the first place.

In contrast, the more tense became their interaction, the more vocal Bi-Han was about why he reject their father’s teaching:

Sub-Zero: "Vision is what he lacked. He was blind to our superiority. We settle for defending Earthrealm when we could help lead it."

and later, at his breaking point, 

Sub-Zero:"He was doddering old fool! He did us a favor, having that accident. And I was right to let him die.[...] Father had doomed the Lin Kuei to mediocrity. Now we will achieve greatness."

At the same time, despite the harsh criticism toward father and considering his death as “favor” done to Lin Kuei (brothers) and having no regrets for letting him die, Sub-Zero’s relationship with his parent is not so one sided as it may look at the first glance. 

Through intro dialogues, Bi-Han still considers his father a foolish, short sighted man

Scorpion: Father would be ashamed of you. Sub-Zero: Only because he lacked vision.

and

Smoke: Father wanted us to be brothers. Sub-Zero: Yet another of the old man's foolish dreams.

or

Sub-Zero: My father was a fool to follow you. Liu Kang: He wisely honored Earthrealm with his service.

but at the same time he does not completely reject the notion of the father’s greatness

Sindel: I knew your father. He was a great man. Sub-Zero: Yet he never understood the Lin Kuei's potential.

or that the man’s wisdom had some merit

Sub-Zero: Father was right about one thing: never trust a sorcerer. Quan Chi: Truly, he was a wise man.

nor Sub-Zero's action was motivated by hate or spite

Reiko: Is it true: you let your father die? Sub-Zero: What war's ever been won without losses?

or

Ashrah: What kind of son betrays his father? Sub-Zero: One who sees his father's time has passed.

(And there is something really weird how Reiko bothers to ask Bi-Han about his father’s death yet Fire Lord, who praised the previous Grandmaster as a wise man to serve Earthrealm, has nothing to say about the matter? No anger, no rebuke, not even a simple comment for what Bi-Han did? When he expressed regret on various occasions for the ill fate of Sindel and her husband? I guess this could add to the pile of reasons why Bi-Han resents Liu Kang’s authority for not treating his Lin Kuei allies with the same or similar level of respect he express toward Outworld Royal Family).

Scorpion in his intro dialogues does not question father’s authority at all. He does speak about him with

Sindel

Scorpion: Your husband's murder haunted my father. Sindel: All those close to Jerrod were devastated.

and

Sindel: Both your parents were excellent fighters. Scorpion: I can only hope to live up to their example.

Geras

Scorpion: I want to see the moment my father died. Geras: You are not ready to receive that knowledge.

and Bi-Han (“Father would be ashamed of you”) however I didn’t find any example he directly mentioned father to Smoke, who, like Sub-Zero, had a more complicated relationship with the man[2].

He also expressed to Johnny and his mirror match burning anger at Bi-Han for father’s death:

Johnny Cage: Bi-Han's got you all fired up, eh? Scorpion: He'll burn for betraying my father.

and

Scorpion: I won't be consumed by vengeance. Scorpion: How can your father's death not burn you?

This fierce reaction to father’s death is understandable, as Scorpion’s Bio said, 

Like his cherished father, Scorpion is dedicated to the Lin Kuei and its defense of Earthrealm. When his father died, Scorpion was bereft. 

Now, let’s focus on the choice of words. According to Merriam-Webster’s dictionary, bereft means:

suffering the death of a loved one but also being deprived or lacking something needed, wanted, or expected.

Which is why I think the loss of a father is for Kuai Liang something more than just missing a beloved parent. He also lost the guidance that was constant in his life since he was a little kid and he tries to fill the emptiness by honoring and in result, mimicking the authority figure he built his life around. 

Kuai Liang’s character theme is HONOR

and as much as it is about his integrity and loyalty to father’s teaching (protecting Earthrealm), I think this is also a keyword to what Scorpion dedicated his life: to honoring the past but only through father’s idea of tradition, duty or his legacy[3].

Story mode: "We must honor his vision Bi-Han."

and

Story mode: "We must chart a new course. One that both honors our Father's legacy and serves Earthrealm."

and

Smoke: With you as grandmaster, our new clan will flourish. Scorpion: Only if we honor tradition.

If we agree that Father was the authority Kuai Liang followed and built his life around, then he did not just lose a parent but also a central part of his world, a source of comfort and security. And Bi-Han, the closest remaining blood-relative, the eldest sibling is NOT PROVIDING THE NEEDED COMFORT and/or STABILITY because Sub-Zero does not follow father’s teaching anymore and slowly is building his life around different values and goals than were accepted by previous Grandmaster. 

Which is why I believe Kuai Liang so desperately clings to it, and honors the man’s teaching like it is some sort of sacred code and can’t anymore interact with elder brother the way they used to. Because he is afraid to lose the last connection to cherished father - if Bi-Han casts away their father’s teaching, they will be forgotten with passing time and then lost forever. And the dislike of changes father would not approve and fear of being forced to act against his own brother are part of Scorpion’s BIO:

[...] he took pride in knowing that his brother, Sub-Zero, would succeed their father as the Lin Kuei's grandmaster. But Sub-Zero's unprecedented moves to cast off the Lin Kuei's traditional duties have frozen Scorpion's enthusiasm. He fears that one day he may have to battle his brother for control of the Lin Kuei's legacy.

- even if Bi-Han prior to his betrayal scene did not do anything that cast off the tradition. We could hear him talking about his ambitions to change Lin Kuei, but only between his closest family and never openly questioning or challenging Liu Kang’s authority. Like yes, Bi-Han was frustrated and lacked patience for back talks of Kung Lao who still didn’t figure out Lin Kuei pulled out their punches and acted violently once Johnny grabbed his arm - and how much it was a learned reflex to respond with violence and a simple excuse to hit him is up to debate. But each time Liu Kang got involved in the “conflict” Sub-Zero fell back to his place and obeyed. The same as he did not argue about the mission he and his brother undertook on Fire Lord’s order.

As the story mode provides, the clan was more than ready to reject the past because only Kuai Liang and Tomas refused to follow Sub-Zero’s leadership. Which speaks a lot both about Lin Kuei as a society and Kuai Liang’s dedication for tradition and father. The story mode really made him look to be in the minority in that matter. To the point that he openly admitted to Smoke how small are chances for him to replace Bi-Han as the Grandmaster even though he is the second in line to that title:

Smoke: “What are you doing? Once he's exposed, won't you be made Grandmaster?" Scorpion: "You forget Cyrax and Sektor. Their loyalty to Bi-Han is absolute. They'll sooner abet his corruption than follow me."

At his breaking point, Bi-Han explained to brother he lied about father’s death because 

"[...] you couldn't, and still can't, face the truth. Father had doomed the Lin Kuei to mediocrity. Now we will achieve greatness."

what is of course a very subjective opinion, but considering how sources presented Kuai Liang and how narrow-minded he can be, especially during mourning father, I’m willing to give Sub-Zero some benefit of doubt. Not if father worsened the Lin Kuei situation or not, but about Scorpion and his inability or lack of will to face the truth. Lin Kuei has changed and Bi-Han alone is not the source of problem, because he is the clan leader for relative short period of time while the whole clan rejected the centuries old traditions honored by Kuai Liang’s father despite knowing it puts them on the collide course against Liu Kang, Earthrealm and Outworld. What is more, just because the previous Grandmaster died, it does not erase all the older members who served Earthrealm longer that Bi-Han or Kuai Liang lived and they too support Bi-Han’s independence streak as far as sources implies. Would they reject Sub-Zero if they knew about his part in Grandmaster’s death? Maybe or maybe not, all depending how long and how deeply the dissatisfaction about the Lin Kuei situation runs. Something that Kuai Liang may not be aware of - or quite the opposite, he was in fact painfully aware about it and this is why he feared Sub-Zero's desire for change, because he knew the clan will gladly support it.

The same as for tradition, brothers have a different approach to their father and what he symbolizes in their life. For Kuai Liang the man was a cherished family member and moral guide, the first and final authority while for Bi-Han a source of frustration and limitation. Understandable then, they have an opposite reaction to his death, one is heartbroken and the other sees it as an opportunity for his own growth and realization of ambitious plans. 

The Lin Kuei brothers’ feelings for mother though are drastically different matter and this will be the subject of the next part.

SIDENOTES

[1] The best example happened here: 

Sub-Zero: “We must find a less guarded section before attempting an ascent. Finally we face a worthy foe. Victory will bring us glory." Scorpion: “Glory? We fight for duty."

as Bi-Han can’t even express the joy he finds in fighting without Kuai Liang cut in and bring it down again to duty and in the wider perspective what father trained them for. An excitement that in itself is not inherently a bad thing, especially since the Sub-Zero’s quotes after losing the fight against Nitara or Ermac shows how Bi-Han would graciously accept defeat and praise his enemy (“You are a superb adversary. More than worth the wait” and “You are as formidable as promised. Let’s continue.” respectively) thus his attitude is about something different than bloodthirst or fun. Sub-Zero was warned about the danger Nitara and Ermac posed:

childhood stories about Lin Kuei's effort against Nitara’s people: “As a boy I heard tales of battles against your kind.”

Liu Kang’s warning about Ermac: “You are Quan Chi’s creation. Liu Kang warned about you. I had hoped for the chance to battle your dark magic.”

and so Bi-Han hoped to face worthy opponents against whom he could test his skills. And though it may sound selfish, we can’t forget that Sub-Zero was raised as a warrior - only facing strong opponents and overcoming the danger allow a warrior to make progress. Lin Kuei warriors were always striving for perfection, and if this mindset did not change in Liu Kang’s timeline, it is understandable why the prospect of facing danger after years of idleness pleased the Grandmaster.

Bi-Han looking out for a chance to perfect his abilities, wishing to test himself and earning a recognition for fighting skills he dedicated his whole life doesn’t sound as something deserving such a negative reaction. Especially since Bi-Han at this point has never done anything that put the mission or his brothers at risk. And though he was frustrated about his and Lin Kuei's situation, it never stopped him from doing his duty - until the capture and Shang Tsung’s offer scene. An offer he wouldn’t be otherwise interested to listen to, as was seen during his fight with sorcerer

and Sub-Zero’s intention to eliminate the enemy for good (even if Liu Kang clearly said to capture the sorcerer not to kill him).

This leads me to think Kuai Liang’s rebuke was uncalled for but also supports my feeling mentioned in the previous part - Scorpion did not enjoy fighting but was doing it because tradition (father) demanded that from him.

[2] Tomas’ complicated feelings toward Lin Kuei Father are rooted in his trauma - it was Grandmaster’s own people who killed his mother and twin sister. As much as an adult Tomas respect his adoptive parent and maybe even became emotionally close with he man over the years, there is still something in the way he spoke about the past events that indicates it was not always the case - and maybe he still feels some resentment to the man that at least indirectly destroyed his childhood

Kitana: You are Kuai Liang's adopted brother? Smoke: His father's honor demanded that he take me in.

and

Reptile: Lucky for you, Kuai Liang's father took you in. Smoke: It didn't feel that way at the time.

And I guess this is just the nature of intro dialogues, but it feels off to me that when Tomas is talking with non Lin Kuei characters, the father is always connected down solely to Kuai Liang (and not for example to both brothers) and Tomas never corrects them or say anything implying that despite not sharing the same blood, the man became his father too. There is also something to say how Tomas twice brought father in his dialogues with Bi-Han: 

Smoke: Father wanted us to be brothers. Sub-Zero: Yet another of the old man's foolish dreams.

and

Sub-Zero: You were never truly one of us. Smoke: Were Father here, he would disagree.

None of the brothers adds “my” or “our” father - and Bi-Han could do so, if he didn’t consider Tomas part of the family. Interestingly Sub-Zero only once said “my father” in his intro dialogues and between the three brothers, Sub-Zero's ones revolve the most around the man (I counted 8 separate, direct intro dialogues), while Kuai Liang does not talk directly about father with Tomas at all in their pre-fighting interactions. Which is quite surprising, considering how important father is to Kuai Liang and how often Smoke brought the man’s authority in story mode and intros.

[3] At this point I think it is not the burning anger that Kuai Liang shares with the original Scorpion that should concern other characters (and us), but his “blind” clinging to the past that brought Hanzo Hasashi a lot of suffering and made him an easy target for manipulations. Now, I know this may sound too harsh, especially at such an early stage of exploring a new timeline and having no clue what is NRS’ final goal for his character development but hear me out. Kuai Liang’s Shirai Ryu is not an improved version of Lin Kuei, but it's replacement. For now Scorpion needs to find and train willing adepts to secure Earthrealm and his new clan’s safety, so it’s understandable his focus is set on the most urgent matters at hand, but if he is not willing to closely examine past and question it - be it father’s teaching or what lead Lin Kuei to follow rebellious Sub-Zero than following their traditional duties, he will recreate the system that objectively speaking is unfair to people born into it. As far as we know, Lin Kuei members weren’t paid for their dutiful service, they lived in isolation and secret, forced their children to endure hardship since childhood to turn them into superb soldiers (tools) so Liu Kang’s Earthrealm could be safe and sound and even in times of peace, the warriors could die for unspecified reasons that aren’t related to natural death out of old age (presumably what happened to mother). There is much more to talk about, so I’m gonna leave this matter for another part. Just signaling that Kuai Liang’s fierce loyalty to father (past) can be as dangerous as Bi-Han rejecting it.