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augustjustice · 9 months

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Chemistry, History, and Shared Trauma

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The day Eddie’s released from the hospital, he’s packed up into Steve’s BMW and driven straight to the Harrington mansion.

The government agents are still in the process of doing the whole song-and-dance routine required to clear Eddie’s name, so laying low is ideal. There hasn’t been time to relocate Wayne to a new trailer–something Owen promises is happening, though Eddie will believe it when he sees it–and a hotel room isn’t really a great place to recover, especially considering the state Eddie finds himself in.

When the question of where exactly he was going to go had come up, Steve had volunteered all too quickly.

“You can stay with me,” he had said, easy as pie, like it was nothing. “My parents aren’t home, and, besides…it’s not like anybody’s going to be looking for you there.”

Though Eddie had tried to protest, quick to say that he didn’t want to put Steve out, his jock savior wouldn’t hear a word of it.

So, the next day, Steve had shown up to the hospital early, signed all the appropriate paperwork, and then wheeled Eddie out into the parking lot whistling some upbeat, poppy tune Eddie didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of recognizing–but still found oddly endearing, in spite of himself.

And that had been that, Steve hauling Eddie’s cane out for him under one arm and his bag of meds in the other once they pull up in front of the Harringtons’ house, ready to put Eddie up in the guest room next to his like he’d belonged there all along.

Eddie’s mobility is still pretty limited–hence the cane and the wheelchair now sitting in the Harrington’s den–but that doesn’t mean he isn’t bold (and stupid) enough to try to make his way up the stairs on his own.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Steve scolds, catching Eddie around the waist as he wavers on his feet a little, clearly being careful of the open wounds on his stomach and torso. “Hold on, just…hold on, man.”

“You got me, big boy?” Eddie teases.

The flirtatious call back is a diversion, an attempt to cover up the embarrassment of having to be this damn reliant on…well, literally everyone around him, but Steve in particular from here on out.

“Yeah. Yeah, I got you,” Steve says, tone nothing less than perfectly sincere.

Eddie deliberately ignores the way his stomach gives a little swoop in response.

So he leans on Steve heavily as they make their way to the next story of the house, close enough to get a faint whiff of Steve’s cologne, a surprisingly sweet mix of amber, vanilla, and something a little fruity tickling his nose. Once they’re finally inside, though, Eddie does manage to hold himself upright long enough for a quick look around, taking in the digs he’s going to be sleeping in.

The room itself is almost sterile in its cleanliness–neat military precious corners on the bed, devoid of the usual clutter Eddie associates with home. The blue floral pattern that covers the walls is bizarrely identical to the fabric of the curtains, the repetition almost comical, when he thinks about the uniformity of all the houses that line the street. It’s the kind of detail that would be called too ‘on the nose,’ if written into a book.

Eddie’s surprised to find a few exceptions to the cold tidiness, however, and even more surprised those exceptions come in the form of a stack of fantasy novels stashed inside the bedside table and a couple of action figures tossed in one corner.

Following his gaze, Steve turns from where he’s ‘tidying up’ what can only be an imaginary mess perceptible to the eyes of babysitting monster hunters and babysitting monster hunters alone, Eddie guesses. He gives Eddie a wry look.

“Dustin stays over sometimes,” he explains, “the other rugrats, too, but it’s still mostly his stuff that winds up here. Leaves his shit all over the place.”

There’s a fondness to Steve’s smile that undercuts the annoyance in his words.

Eddie thinks back to the months and months Dustin spent talking Steve up to him. How even then it never really occurred to him just how close they might be. It’s strange to think, now, that though Eddie’s spent nearly a whole school year as DM for Steve’s nerdy band of babysitting charges, their paths had rarely ever crossed, beyond glimpses and a handful of long forgotten words exchanged, before that nightmare of a Spring Break. Almost like their lives have been running in some kind of strange parallel, fated to collide, without either of them even noticing it.

Eddie’s not exactly sure how to phrase the feeling that comes over him at the thought, so instead he says, “I can’t believe we’re best friends with a fourteen year old, man.”

“God, tell me about it.”

Eddie takes a few stumbling steps forward and sits down on the bed, honestly a bit proud of himself he manages it with as much grace as he does. As he settles in, he catches sight of a small stack of photos splayed out on the bedside, sitting atop what looks to be a photo album.

Though it’s only a brief glimpse, the two visible pictures alone hint at the whole life story no doubt tucked away between glossy pages.

Theres’s Dustin, several years younger than he is now, in a suit shooting the camera his gummy smile and with a hairdo that looks suspiciously like Steve’s own. And a polaroid shows Robin sprawled out on the counter at Scoops Ahoy, company policy be damned and a book in her hand, Steve’s head just in frame as she flips off the camera.

While Steve fusses over him, fluffing his pillows and insisting he go get Eddie something to drink, Eddie can’t help but think he'd sorta like to hear it sometime–Steve Harrington’s life story. Be regaled with tales, from the photos and beyond, now that they’re here together, after the almost end of the world.

He hopes that, maybe, if he’s lucky, Steve will want to tell him some day.

---

The bloodcurdling scream wakes Steve.

He’s out of his room and down the hall in a flash, nail bat quickly snatched out of its hiding place underneath his bed with ease after years of practice.

Even with his heart racing, he’s quiet when he opens the guest bedroom door, not wanting to scare Eddie or alert…anything else that might be lurking inside.

“Eddie,” Steve calls out, whisper soft as he approaches the bed. When he repeats it, it’s a little harsher, more of a hiss, trying to get Eddie’s attention. “Eddie!”

As he draws closer, Steve can see that Eddie is sweating, large droplets visible where they’ve beaded on his forehead, and he’s writhing hard enough in the sheets Steve’s worried he’s going to pop a stitch if he doesn’t stop him soon.

There’s really only one option ahead Steve sees for himself.

So he gets a knee on the mattress and climbs into the bed, wrapping his arms around Eddie to still him. Even as he does it, Steve worries his bottom lip between his teeth, anxious Eddie might fight against the restriction and inadvertently make the situation worse.

But then huge brown eyes fly open, Eddie’s terror reflected plainly as he stares up at Steve.

“Jeez–Christ!” Eddie manages to get out, stuttered and slurred, cutting off when Steve makes a soft shushing sound.

“Hey, man,” Steve murmurs, trying to keep his tone soothing as he gives him a tentative smile, “it’s me. It’s just me. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

He brushes Eddie’s sweaty bangs back from his forehead, a gesture that would be too intimate in any other circumstances, and then just keeps trying to murmur reassuring shit to him, voice low and gentle.

“I’m here, Eds. I’m here.”

Eddie is shaking against him, but he isn’t squirming or trying to buck him off, which Steve takes as a good sign–as ideal, really, as Steve could hope for in this situation. One of Eddie’s hands comes up to run down his face, his curls shifting against the pillow as he shakes his head fervently.

“Shit, Harrington, I thought–I mean, what I saw–” he trails off, lip trembling.

“I get it, man. Trust me, I get it.”

Though Eddie had squeezed his eyes firmly shut through the come down, he blinks them open again, looking at Steve through the darkness.

“Yeah, uh. Guess you would, wouldn’t you? Probably better than anybody.”

Steve can only nod his agreement.

“I mean, not just me. All of us get them,” he whispers, compelled to say it quietly, as he’s not sure if that truth is a comfort or a burden. “The nightmares, you know? Nance, Dustin, Robin–me.”

“Well, can I just say, they truly and royally suck.”

“Yeah…can’t really argue with you there, man.”

Eddie seems to register, then, that Steve has curled his body around him. His steadily loosening posture goes stiff again, much to Steve’s disappointment, and his eyes dart over nervously to catch Steve’s as he sucks in his bottom lip.

“Fuck, I-I’m sorry, dude. I totally didn’t mean to wake you up with my–terror-filled screams.”

The smile he shoots Steve is self-deprecating, tentative.

Steve’s grip slackens, but he doesn’t pull away, still pressed against Eddie’s side.

“Hey,” Steve coaxed, “you don’t need to do that, Eds. Like I said, we all fucking get them. That’s what I’m here for, okay? I–just wanna help when I can.”

The quirk of Eddie’s lips looks more genuine, now, some of the tension draining away.

“You know, Harrington, it’s kinda annoying how much I know you mean that.”

“Better get used to it, Munson. Cuz I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve gives Eddie one final quick squeeze around his shoulders, wondering if the gesture somehow crosses the line of casual, friendly touch Steve has gotten used to doling out to Eddie since all the Upside Down shit started, the jocular back pats and hair ruffling he’d justified as just typical guy stuff.

With that thought firmly at the front of his mind, Steve pulls away, albeit reluctantly. That said, he really doesn’t want to go back immediately on his word by slinking off to his bedroom, abandoning Eddie to fight off whatever images linger alone in the dark.

Especially not when he hears the almost imperceptible noise Eddie lets out as he stands.

Steve eyes the floor speculatively, an idea already taking root in his head.

“Speaking of, why don’t I just–stay here tonight. Yeah?” he suggests, already tossing the pillow and throw from the chair in the corner on the ground, making himself a pallet.

Sure, it’s not the most comfortable sleeping position ever, but between chairs in the Wheelers’ basement and the cold, hard floor of a Russian elevator, Steve’s done a lot worse.

“C’mon, man–you don’t have to do that,” Eddie tries to protest.

Like Steve can’t clearly see how haggard he looks, peering down at Steve through the curtain of his hair, the end of one strand damp where he’s pulled it up to his mouth and chewed on it.

Steve waves him off. “It’s not a problem. I already told you, dude, Henderson stays over all the time–you think I’ve never had to have a floor sleepover when he was around? Get real.”

Eddie quirks an eyebrow at him.

“...Something tells me you’re not going anywhere even if I pull out my magnificent rhetorical skills from years of DMing and try to argue with you, huh?”

Steve thinks that really Eddie’s just proved his point, the fact that, since Steve mentioned staying, he’s recovered himself enough to be teasing all the more reason sticking around is clearly a good thing.

“Nope,” he answers, voice chipper as he shoots a finger gun at Eddie.

Eddie shakes his head ruefully. “Alright, didn’t think so.”

Without further ado, Steve flops himself gracelessly onto his makeshift bed for the night, the thick carpet beneath softening his landing.

“Night, Eddie.”

“Yeah. Yeah, night, Steve.”

Several long moments pass, and Steve listens, waiting to hear Eddie’s breathing evening out. It’s a sound he has become well acquainted with after many nights spent at the hospital, fitfully trying to sleep in the uncomfortable chair at Eddie’s bedside. When he fails to hear that telltale signal, Steve can’t help but stay tensed, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

He doesn’t have to wait long before Eddie breaks the silence.

“Steve?” Eddie calls out, voice wavering. “Could you–fuck, man, I just need…”

He trails off, becoming muffled as he probably buries his face in his hands again. Even in the darkness, as Steve sits up, he can see the way Eddie’s shoulders hitch with his uneven breathing.

Without a word, he abandons the pillow and blanket on the floor to climb back onto the bed. Eddie doesn’t even look up when Steve’s weight dips the mattress.

“Hey, man,” Steve hipchecks him, nudging him over gently, “move over.”

“Harrington…” Eddie drawls slowly, looking completely lost even as he does as requested. His eyes widen further when Steve climbs into the empty space he left behind. “What’re you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow as he leans back onto the pillows, getting comfortable.

“I know what it looks like, I just need some reassurance I’m not just hallucinating from blood loss or something here, man. Maybe you didn’t actually pull me, barely alive, out of that hellhole, and everything since then has all just been a really, really elaborate dream.”

Steve laughs, jostling his shoulder slightly.

“You’re not hallucinating.”

Eddie continues to stare at him in silent disbelief, causing Steve to sigh and sit up.

“Look, man, I–I get it, okay? All this, afterwards…sometimes it helps, just…being together. Close by, you know?”

Steve had had Nancy and the pretense of normalcy after the first go around, though that had all quickly gone to hell.

And the second time, when the kids truly were still kids, not the tiny adults they were fast becoming, there had been Dustin. The night after their second showdown, they’d slept side-by-side on their own makeshift palate on Joyce Byers’ living room floor, the other munchkins all scattered around them and Steve’s hand ruffled in Dustin’s hair, just the reassurance that he was there safe and comforting.

It was the best Steve had slept in almost a year.

And then, after the third time, there had been Robin. Filling up his parents’ empty house with laughter, movie marathons and impromptu sleepovers. Robin crawling into his bed in the middle of the night because she didn’t want to sleep alone in the echoing walls of Casa de Harrington, the two of them kicking each other like two giggling preteens until they fell asleep.

So, yeah. Together, in Steve’s many years of experience, was undeniably better.

“Besides, this way I can check and make sure you don’t actually bleed out in the middle of the night.”

“...If you say so,” Eddie says dubiously, but he doesn’t argue any further, which Steve counts as a win. He’s learned to take them where he can get them, these days.

But even after his agreement, Eddie’s restlessness is transparent. He fidgets beside Steve–drumming his fingers, squirming in the sheets as though trying to get comfortable, and eventually rolling half onto his side so that he’s facing away from Steve entirely. As Steve peers curiously at the outline of his shoulders, he realizes Eddie is still trembling, just a little.

His heart gives a painful kick in his chest.

“Here, just–” Steve turns until he’s lined up along Eddie’s back and then wraps a hand around his waist, pulling him back against him.

Eddie’s fidgeting stops immediately as he freezes in Steve’s arms.

“How’s that?” he asks into the waves of Eddie’s hair brushing against his face. “Better?”

“Uh.”

The hesitation in Eddie’s voice makes Steve really wish he could see his face, get a better read on the situation. Eddie’s so damn expressive, he might as well be the poster boy for “heart on his sleeve” as a phrase.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

“Are you totally weirded out?” Steve asks, trying to keep his voice casual. “If you want me to, like, stop, you can just…tell me, you know.”

“No,” Eddie laughs, his head dipping downwards, “no, man, it’s…it’s definitely not that. I’m just trying to reconcile several shifting pieces of my world outlook into place all at once.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

Eddie turns, then, tipping over onto his back again so he can stare at Steve in disbelief. Steve doesn’t loosen his hold on his waist.

“Steve Harrington. Is in my bed. Spooning me,” Eddie raises his eyebrows at him. “None of that strikes you as weird?”

“I’m not spooning you now,” Steve points out. “You turned around.”

“Dude!” Eddie smacks his shoulder, shaking his head, laughter in his voice. They’re close enough his hair tickles Steve’s face as it whips around them.

“And, no, not really,” Steve shrugs. “Probably doesn’t even rank in the top ten weirdest things I’ve done in the past three years.”

“I mean…after the shit I’ve seen? I don’t doubt that, dude.”

But Eddie stares at him for a long beat after he admits it, eyes bright and brows drawn. There’s an expression, on his face, like he’d like to crack Steve open and see how his gears work, understand him from the inside out.

Plenty of people have looked at Steve like they wanted him. Steve’s not sure anyone has ever looked at him like this before, though.

The comforter has fallen down around Eddie’s waist, the shirt Steve had lent him riding up, exposing the pale line of his stomach. The worst of the wounds are still covered in bandages, the stitching hidden underneath them, but a patch of fresh, purple scarring spills out from the stark white gauze.

That’s the only real explanation that Steve has, for what he decides to break the sudden, loaded silence with.

(Plus maybe, just maybe, it’s one way of giving Eddie a part of himself, one jigsaw piece in the puzzle those bright brown eyes seem eager to solve.)

“You know, Nancy has a scar on her palm.”

When Eddie’s face turns towards his on the pillow, shooting him a puzzled look, he keeps going.

“Here, like this,” Steve tries to sound nonchalant as he takes Eddie’s hand, drags a finger gently across it. He’s not sure how much he’s succeeded, seeing the way the furrow of Eddie’s brow deepens in the low light. “And it’s…from the first time, with the demogorgon? Nancy and Jonathan, they–they lured it out together, and they’ve got the matching scars to prove it. She explained it to me, later, what happened.”

“I mean…that sounds like a gnarly war wound,” Eddie observes hesitantly. Then, his lips tug into a lopsided smile. “Not as impressive as a missing nipple, of course, but, you know–not everybody can be as badass as me.”

“Shut up, dude,” Steve scoffs, trying to bite back his own smile as he very gently jostles Eddie’s arm.

“What I’m trying to say, Harrington, is–I’m not really sure why you’re telling me this now?”

“I was getting to it, Eds. Sheesh, when it comes to patience, you're as bad as the munchkins.”

Eddie inclines his head for Steve to continue, not even bothering to hide his amusement. “You have my sincerest apologies for interrupting, Stevie. Please–carry on, my liege.”

“Thank you,” Steve says snippily, partially out of habit, and partially because returning to the topic at hand is making him a little nervous. “So, like I was saying–Jonathan and Nance, they’ve got these matching marks on their hands, right? And, after they got back together–not to sound like a stalker, or anything, for the record this was when we would hang out sometimes–but more than once I would…I would catch them, just. Doing this thing where they pressed their palms together, like this.”

He demonstrates, spreading his hand out so his and Eddie’s hands line up together perfectly, Steve’s own longer fingers inching out over the tips of Eddie’s own.

“I don’t think they ever realized I noticed. But I always knew, when they did it, they were comparing their–what did you call them?–their matching war wounds. Like they carried this secret little thing that would always tie them together, no matter what happened. And I’m not gonna pretend I wasn’t jealous, at first, but even then, I always thought it was…nice. The thought of having somebody who would always be connected to you, that way, where you could never really erase what you’d been through together.”

A long beat of silence passes between them, him and Eddie staring at each other in the moonlight. Steve hopes, desperately, that maybe some part of what he’s trying to work up to saying is getting through.

“That is…incredibly morbid. Especially for you, Harrington,” Eddie notes finally, a corner of his mouth ticking up in amusement.

Steve huffs out a breath, beginning to pull his hand away, “Whatever, man, if you’re just gonna make fun, forget I said any–”

“Shit, no no no, dude!” Eddie’s arm flies out, gripping Steve tightly around the wrist, not letting him slink away. “I’m sorry, Stevie, I–that’s not what I meant. I do, I do get what you’re saying. Like you said, scars like that–they work like a symbol, that you’ve been through some tough shit together, side by side, and made it out the other end alive. I totally fucking get it, dude. And against all instincts, I do think it’s pretty romantic, in an absolutely metal sorta way. That’s why I said it like that. Just didn’t expect your romantic side to come with so much edge, Stevie boy.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve lets out a dry huff, “almost dying about a hundred times will do that to a person.”

“Yeah, I guess it will. I’m, uh. Still not completely clear about what Wheeler and Byers’ big epic love story has to do with us, though?” Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “Unless…you’re here to wallow? In which case–I mean, fair enough. Wallow away, my good sir. You’ve more than earned it.”

“It’s not that,” Steve insists, even as he shrugs his shoulders, slightly conceding the point. “I mean, sure, with Nancy…I really thought she was it for me, once upon a time. And so when I saw what she had, with Jonathan–it hurt. Because it was her, of course, but also…because I wanted that with someone, as twisted as it maybe sounds. I’d gone through hell and back, too, and all I got was that nail bat and a bunch of mouthy kids to look out for.”

Eddie lets out a bark of laughter, and Steve grins back at him.

“Not that I’m complaining, or anything. I mean, I got Robin, too, and I don’t know what I’d do without her, or the hellions, for that matter. But, I–”

Deliberately, he tugs up his own shirt, shifting until he’s pressing carefully against Eddie’s side. Their matching bandages brush, an identical swath of white in the darkness, tangled scars seeming to almost curl together. It’s hard, in that moment, to tell where one of them ends and the other begins.

“I just–never thought I’d have anybody else to match with. That’s all.”

“But–now you do?” Eddie says slowly, something cautious in his voice.

“Well, yeah,” Steve shrugs, the corner of his mouth curving upwards in a tentative half-smile. “Now I’ve got you.”

“...You got me,” Eddie agrees quietly, almost like he’s afraid to speak that part out loud. “Dragged me out of hell and everything, Harrington. No return receipt after all that so…don’t really think there’s any getting rid of me now, even if you wanted to.”

“Good,” Steve says curtly, with a sharp, certain nod of his head, leaving no room for any creeping doubts. “Like I said, Munson, I’ve been waiting on this for a while, so you don’t get to run out on me now.”

Eddie shakes his head again, lips curling in bemusement.

“You are something else entirely, Steve Harrington,” he admits. “Full of surprises.”

“Good ones?” Steve asks, suddenly self-conscious.

Eddie tilts his head back and forth, as though he’s considering.

(Later, he will tease Steve about it mercilessly.

“Was that the infamous Harrington charm at work? Bet you tell that one to all the boys you lure into your bed, seduce them with tales of matching battle wounds connecting you like a pair of fated lovers.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Eds,” Steve will counter with that same sincerity that always sends Eddie blushing, “cuz I’ve never said anything like that before. Not to anybody. Not before you.”)

But, for now, it takes only a moment for Eddie’s face to dissolve into a warm smile. Reaching over, he tangles his fingers with Steve’s again, tugging their interlaced hands up to rest against one of the scarred patches stretching across his belly.

The skin feels smooth under Steve’s hand. For a moment, he wonders how it would feel, to press his lips there.

“Yeah,” Eddie answers, eyes sparkling with so many promises of the future, for now left unsaid. “Yeah, I’d say pretty good so far.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #my writing #my stuff #my things #me coming at you with yet another spin on an established steddie trope? it's more likely than you think

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daydreaming-nerd · 7 months

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The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 6

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: Took a wild leap with this one...

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring.

Warnings (so far): mentions of physical abuse, mentions of SA, major sexisim, SMUT, dirty talk, angst.

Word count: 3557

(all photos are from pinterest)

“And if they win? If my brother and Beron get their way?” I ask Rhysand who is clearly lost in thought, but it’s Mor who answers.

“Then you would be forced to marry Eris. As fucked up and sexist as it is, they’re going to call into question who had claim of you first Eris or Rhys.” Mor answered clearly, hating the words coming out of her own mouth.

“Oh,” I murmured, it was all I could say, the thought that all of this could have been for nothing. Those days spent in a cell, weeks keeping Rhysand and I a secret it didn’t change the outcome of my life.

“I won’t let it come to that,” Rhys said, walling over to me and pressing his forehead to mine. “I won’t let them take you from me.”

“You’re right I’m sure we can figure this out,” I reply, not trusting my own words.

“Let’s go shopping girl, it will give brooding old Rhys here time to think of a plan.” Mor said, trying to lighten the mood. “You can borrow something of mine while we shop.”

“Mor’s right we should get me some clothes,” I giggle looking down at the too big shirt of Rhysand’s that I was wearing. I press a chaste kiss to his lips trying to bring a smile to his face but it doesn’t work. I move towards Mor but I feel Rhy’s hand pull me back.

“Not without one of these,” he says, pressing his lips to mine passionately. I nearly moan at the way he is always able to kiss me into submission. I swear I’d do anything he asked me if he just kissed me like this.

“I love you,” I smile, pulling away from the kiss.

“I love you too,” he smiles, running his thumb over my lips. “Take care of her Mor.”

“Like she was my own mate,” Mor smiled before leading me to her bedroom.

“This wasn’t just a shopping trip you know?” Mor says, holding up her glass of wine to her lip. “I wanted to thank you.”

She had insisted that we go out for a drink and for dinner before turning in for the night and given the long day we had I was more than willing to do just that.

“Thank me for what? I hardly think I’ve done anything but cause problems for your cousin and your court,” I sigh popping another grape into my mouth.

“Yet I’ve never seen him so happy,” she sent me a knowing smile. “I’ve known Rhys my whole life, never have I seen him so at peace, so willing to live. When his parents and his sister died he was given the title of High Lord, one he never felt like he was ready for. It made him unhappy, but all that has changed because of you.”

“How did Rhys’ family die?” I ask sipping my own glass of wine. All of the color drained from Mor’s face.

“You don’t know?” she asks bewildered.

“No he never told me,” I answered, afraid of whatever answer she might tell me.

“I shouldn’t tell you this,” she said, trying to resume sipping her wine.

“Mor please, tell me.” I beg her.

“Okay but don’t let Rhys kill me,” she starts. “200 years ago Rhys and your brother were friends, but your father figured out that Rhysand would be the most powerful High Lord and sought to bring him down a peg. So one night he and Tamlin as well as your brothers went to the Illyrian Camps and slaughtered his mother and sister in cold blood. When Rhysand’s father found out both went to the Spring Court only leaving you and Tamlin alive.”

I could hardly believe what I was hearing Tamlin had always told me that the agents of the night court had killed our family for stealing their wings, that they were to be an enemy of our court. If I ever asked him to tell me more he would refuse. “But why would Rhys and his father leave us alive?”

Mor let out another sigh, “Rhys was supposed to kill you. That night he stood over your bed with a dagger, the mating bond snapped into place. He told me that he fell to his knees before you. It was too late for him to rectify what he had done to your family, but when he found his father holding a dagger to Tamlin’s throat Rhys begged for him to live and he did. But Tamlin took Rhysand’s fathers own dagger and drove it through his heart anyways.”

I nearly felt my knees give out, he had known for 200 years and said nothing. I couldn’t stop myself from reeling. My heart rate began to pick up and suddenly this dress was too tight, this room was too hot and the walls were closing in.

“I need…I need some air,” I gasped. It was all I could say before taking off.

I heard Mor calling for me inside the tavern but I couldn’t stop, not for anything. The chill of the night air did little to calm my heart rate down. I wove through a sea of people, all of them balking at the unfamiliar face. I even heard murmurs of ‘that’s Tamlin’s sister’ and my gut churned. All that was going through my head was he knew, he knew, he knew.

So I ran, and I ran, and I tried to outrun the feeling but it didn’t matter how far I went, I couldn’t escape the shocking truth I had just heard.

I found myself sitting by the edge of the river about a mile outside of town. Something about the sound of the water flowing by and the crickets chirping gave me time to think. It wasn’t agents of the night court that killed my family, it was the High Lord, and Rhys. I supposed I should be mad, but given the events of the last few days, what Tamlin did to me, what he’s still trying to do? I’m almost glad Rhys nearly put an end to it all. But it doesn’t change one thing. He knew we were mates for almost 200 years and didn’t tell me. I had heard him calling down the bond for an hour now, but I shut him out. I needed time to process this.

Behind me I heard the flap of massive wings and then a thud, I turned to find Azriel standing behind me. His face was kind. Not angry or upset like I thought it would be. He looked friendly.

“It’s a bit cold out tonight, mind if I join you?” he asked, gesturing to the spot beside me.

“I’m afraid I’m not the best company, but be my guest.” I reply, patting the spot next to me. His massive frame came to sit beside me and as the breeze floated in from my right he curled a wing around me shielding me from it.

“So you found out how to shut Rhys out of the bond?” he smirked.

“I guess so,” I shrugged, not taking my eyes off the river before me.

“Nice,” he smiled like he was proud of me for doing so.

“Is he mad?” I ask, cringing slightly.

“No, but he is worried. The second Mor came back and told him what happened and he sent all of us out to find you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has the whole of Velaris doing search and rescue by now.” Azriel explained casually.

“I’m sorry. I just needed time.” I said picking at the rocks on the ground.

“Don’t be. It was a big blow,” he started. “Are you mad at Rhys?”

“I know I should be, but I’m not. I just wish he had told me.” I sigh.

“You know I was there that night. I was at the townhouse when he returned from the spring court. He was a wreck, an honest to gods wreck. He was so stricken with grief over what he had done that he disappeared to the Illyrian mountains for a week.” he explained.

“But why didn’t he tell me?” I plead.

“I don’t know. I think he wanted to, but the timing was never right. He spent nearly 200 years loving you from afar and then you finally felt the bond snap. I think he was so happy that he was scared he would lose you. That you would reject the bond.” he said.

“I suppose I don’t know what I’d do in that situation either,” I sigh.

“One thing you can be sure of is that he does love you. I’ve never seen a person love another person more. Hell he’s trying to claw into my mind as we speak but I’m not letting him,” Azriel chuckles.

“I suppose I should go back then,” I laugh beginning to stand up.

“I’ll take you. Do you want me to winnow you there or do you want to go the fun way?” he says, cocking an eyebrow.

“What’s the fun way?” I ask nervously, dusting the dirt off my dress.

He snapped his wings out in answer.

“Oh definitely the fun way,” I smile. “I’ve never flown before.”

“Rhys will be pissed that I’m taking your flying virginity but he’ll get over it eventually.” Azriel smiles before scooping me up. “You ready?”

“Yes!” I squeal in anticipation and excitement.

“Hold on tight princess,” Azriel laughs, launching off the ground into the sky.

My stomach bottoms out and my grip on his neck tightens as the river below us gets smaller and smaller. All the air leaves my lungs as we continue to ascend and then we’re soaring through the sky.

“Oh my gods this is amazing!” I shout with joy into the night and I feel Azriel’s chuckle reverberate through my body.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I smile, still unable to hide the joy I feel.

“Let go of my neck, I'm going to let you free fall,” he instructs me.

“But you’re going to catch me right?” I ask just to be sure.

“You’re going to be my High Lady one day, I will always catch you,” he says nonchalantly.

“Okay let’s do it,” I say, removing my hands from his neck.

“See you in a second!” he laughs before letting go.

I feel myself falling through the sky and it’s the most freeing feeling ever. I can’t help but let an excited whoop out as the wind whips my hair about. I have never felt more powerful, more invincible than in this moment. Every worry about my brother, about Beron and the council are gone, for once my mind is clear.

I see Azriel tucking his wings in above me diving down to meet me and in mere seconds I feel him scooping me up again.

“That was so fun!” I shout.

“Don’t ever tell Rhys we did that he will have my head,” Azriel laughed and I could see the townhouse below us.

We land on the terrace and the sound of our laughter brings Rhys out to meet us.

“Thank gods I was scared something had happened to you,” he said, rushing over to press a kiss to my forehead.

“I’m fine you overbearing mother hen,” I laugh putting my hands on his forearms.

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Azriel said backing away.

“Wait!” I shout before running over to throw my arms around him giving the biggest hug I possibly could. For a second he doesn’t hug me back, in shock from my sudden action but then I feel two arms wrap around me. “Thank you for everything, for the talk, for the ride. All of it.”

“Of course y/n any time.” he smiled. I backed away and took Rhys’ hand as he began to lead me inside.

“Oh and Azriel!” Rhys called making Azriel turn around. “I saw that,” he smirked and I know he meant the free fall.

“Damn,” Azriel cursed before taking off into the night.

Rhys turned to me, mood more somber now. “I think we need to talk,” he said quietly, like the words would hurt him if he spoke them too loud.

“I think we do too,” I replied.

We walked upstairs to the bedroom, everything was just as we left it this morning. Bed unmade, sheets thrown everywhere. The only noticeable difference was my new trove of dresses hanging in Rhys’ closet. My heart warmed at the sight of it. Something so small yet so meaningful at the same time, so domestic. Something I had unknowingly wanted for a long time.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask turning around to meet his violet eyes.

“Please believe me when I say I wanted to tell you. I never planned on keeping you in the dark about it. That night I went to kill you I had such hatred in my heart, I had lost my mother and my sister and I wanted revenge. I was young and stupid and following my father blindly. But when I saw you the bond clicked and I had never known such love. I remember it all. I fell to my knees before you and I realized what I had done. I had killed my mate's family. When I saw my father and Tamlin fighting I begged them to stop, begged my father to let him live. I couldn’t tell them why for fear that Tamlin would kill you just to hurt me. But eventually my father gave in, but Tamlin still stuck a dagger in his heart. When I got back to Velaris I had become High Lord and I couldn’t cope.” he explained, stepping closer to me to cup my cheek. “I have spent the last 200 years in agony knowing what I did to you.”

He paused taking in my face like he might never see me again, like I might reject the mating bond, and his eyes started to glass over.

“The day the bond snapped for you was one of the happiest days of my life. But you were already so hesitant to let me in, you wouldn’t even let my name pass your lips. I knew I couldn’t tell you then for fear of losing you forever. I had to make you see that I wasn’t the monster Prythian paints me to be. Even though I acted like one that night. I was selfish in not telling you. You deserved to know the truth. But please forgive me, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for it in every way I know how. They might seem like empty words, but I love you so much, I don’t think I can live without you.” he finished and I saw a tear slip from his eye.

“Rhys, I’ve already forgiven you.” I say wiping the tear from his face. “And maybe that makes me a terrible person, forgiving and loving the man who killed my family. But look at what they would’ve done, what they stood for. Tamlin locked me in a cell and was ready to sell me off to be Eris’ breeding vessel. The way my brothers and father always treated me they would’ve done the same, maybe worse. Who knows what miserable fate you might’ve saved me from. Your true character is reflected in people like Azriel and Cassian, in this beautiful city you’ve kept secret and protected for years. I see all of you Rhysand and there is not a part of you that I don’t love with all that I am.”

Rhys lets out a sigh of relief before smashing our lips together. I can taste the salt of his tears and the salt of my own. I throw my arms around his neck pulling him impossibly close

“I love you so much,” he cries between kisses.

“I love you too,” I say back smiling. I sit down on the bed and pull him down with me.

“Wait we can’t your still hurt,” he protests.

“Rhysand, if you don’t get on this bed and fuck me right now I swear on my life I will get myself off.” I gripe at him.

“While I would love nothing more than to watch you play with your pretty pussy. I think I’d rather do it myself tonight. But you need to tell me if you’re hurting at all okay?” he fusses.

“I will, I promise! Now please touch me!” I whine taking his hand and placing it on my breast.

“With pleasure mate,” he says, squeezing my breast. He snaps his fingers and our clothes are gone.

“That’s a fun little trick,” I laugh pulling him down, needing to feel his skin on mine.

“Only used for times where I desperately need to be inside you,” he purrs and chills coat my body.

I kiss him hard letting my hands caress his shoulders and arms, all of him pure muscle, lethal and totally at my mercy. He pulls my hair back to give himself access to my neck and I feel a wave of arousal flow through me as he finds that sweet spot that drives me wild.

My hand drifts down his front grazing every muscle on it’s way until I find his cock already hard and dripping with precum. I wrap my fingers around it and begin stroking it. My hand feeling incredibly small compared to the size of him. His hips buck fucking himself into my hand at the contact.

“Fuck mate,” he lets out a low groan in my ear. “How is it that even your hands feel perfect around my cock?”

“It’s because I was made for you,” I muse nibbling his ear.

“Hmm,” he hums in delight. “You know what was really made for me?”

“What?” I ask as he pulls his cock from my hand.

“This,” he smirks before plunging himself inside of me. I arch my back off the mattress in pleasure as he lets out a guttural moan. “Gods your so fucking tight!”

“Oh fuck Rhys!” I moan, scratching my nails down his back.

He starts fucking me hard, the mating bond glowing brightly between us. If this is how badly we need one another before the mating ceremony I shudder to think what will happen after. If he thinks a few weeks will be enough he’s dead wrong, I could do this for the rest of my life.

He snaps his hips at an angle that hits a particularly sensitive spot and I can’t help but moan even louder.

“Gods I love the sounds you make when I fuck you,” he says with a feral grin before sinking his teeth into my neck.

“Oh gods Rhys I’m close!” I groan, running my hands through his hair.

“I’m right behind you mate, make a mess on my cock,” he grunts and it’s enough to send me over the edge with his name on my lips.

“Fuck y/n!” he screams, spilling his seed inside me.

As I feel his warm cum coat my walls he collapses on top of me and though he’s crushing me it’s an welcome weight. His skin on mine is the best feeling I’ve ever known. His shallow breaths coat my neck as I rub soothing circles on his back. We spend a few minutes catching our breath as I continue to hold him close to me.

“Did you talk to Cassian and Az about Beron?” I ask.

“I did and I think we have a solution.” he answers without moving his head from my chest.

“What is it?” I inquire further, dying to know.

“We toyed with the idea of having the mating ceremony early but with the meeting so soon it wouldn’t be safe. If we were to walk in there as a newly mated pair I would have Beron’s head ripped off within moments of him talking about you like you’re an object. It’s too dangerous,” Rhys said.

“Agreed,” I chuckle nervously. “But if we can’t mate officially then what do we do?”

Rhys rolls over from his spot on top of me so that he can see my face, no doubt wanting to gage my reaction to his proposed solution.

“I make you my High Lady,” he says with pride in his voice.

I knew that Azriel had said it earlier but at the time I didn’t believe him. It didn’t seem possible. I bore no real powers besides winnowing, I had no political knowledge. How could I possibly be High Lady.

“But do you really want that?” I ask. “I mean you’re not just doing it to make sure Beron and Tamlin don’t win right?”

“I’ve always known you were going to be my High Lady y/n. But I knew that the title came with responsibilities. I didn’t want to pressure you into it.” he explains. “But to answer your question more directly, yes, I want it. I want you to be my equal in every way possible. Why do you think I brought up Kallias and Viviane when we were on the Summer Court terrace?”

I smile remembering the interaction.

“Then I guess I’m High Lady of the Night Court now.” I smile triumphantly.

(I was debating wether or not to put this sort of plot twist in here so please leave some feedback because it helps me to know what you guys like and how I can write better for all you beautiful stars!)

Taglist: @crystalferret202 , @heyyitsnat21 , @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson , @randomperson1234sblog , @local-fangirl09 , @bleh-81, @annaaaaa88 , @tenaciousperfectionunknown , @judig92, @aunicornmademedoit, @sharknutz ,

@slytherintaco , @isa1b2h3 , @nickishadow139 , @sarawritestories , @coisas-da-dani , @lovemesomevesey , @graceshifts ,

#rhys acotar #rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand angst #rhysand fluff #rhysand smut #rhysand acotar #rhysand x reader smut

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pacifymebby · 2 years

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You know what would be funny, the peaky boys with a gf who looks Innocent and shy out in public but fucks like a porn star, tommy would be so confused at first 'wtf did this come from?? You blushed not an hour ago bc i called you pretty' and poor Bonnie, he really had no idea, he might be in shock after getting the best head he's ever received just trying to figure out if he's dreaming or not while looking up at the ceiling

Tommy

🌿 Tommy would be so confused, but very impressed...

🌿 He'd hoped there was a secret, darker side hiding behind your shyness and now he sees he was right.

🌿He hadn't been expecting it though, it had taken him so long to get you to even look him in the eye... He wasn't even expecting you to actually let him touch you...

🌿But here you are on your knees, looking up at him from under your thick long lashes, licking the tip of his cock... Teasing him. He can't believe you're actually teasing him!

🌿 You have always been so shy, you litterally blush and look away when he tells you you're pretty but now he thinks he knows why...

🌿 Maybe its because when he calls you "my pretty girl" your mind wanders to places it shouldnt.

🌿 He definitely embraces this new, naughty side to you, he wants to take advantage of it and will constantly be testing your limits to see just how much of a little slut you can be for him.

🌿 Somehow you always manage to surprise him, like every time you take your clothes off he's expecting you to be all shy and blushy but you never are... Its like your own thoughts and desires cloud your head and make you do the most depraved things.

🌿 He's pretty certain you'll do whatever he asks you to and still find a way of surprising him.

🌿 His favourite thing is to fuck you hard and fast up against the wall. He likes hearing the moans and whines which escaped you, he likes it when he fucked you so hard he steals your breath away.

🌿 He also loves the fact that he now knows something about you that nobody else does. Everybody else thinks youre a virginal, good girl, innocent but he knows different.

🌿 Invites you into his office when he can tell you're feeling very needy, he'll hide you under his desk and have you cockwarm him whilst he finishes his work.

Alfie

🐻 Alfie could tell from the very first time you held his gaze, that beneath that quiet, timid persona there was a little devil waiting to be unlocked.

🐻 Because some women are just like that see, some women like to pretend to be innocent and pure because deep down they have all these terrible cravings that they can't control

🐻 He could tell from the haze you got in your eyes sometimes when he was talking to you, that your mind had drifted to places it shouldnt.

🐻 So he knew that all he had to do was unlock it. He spent a long time being patient, chipping away at you bit by bit, trying to uncover what he knew was hiding behind that outer shyness

🐻 It happened painfully slowly and then suddenly all at once... You seemed to change in a second, blushing and timid as he undressed you to suddenly shameless, mewling and whining as you ground down on his cock in desperation

🐻 He likes the noises you make... They're filthy, and completely shameless... They start off as quiet, shy little sighs but by the time hes finished with you theyre loud, drawn out, moans, full of sin.

🐻 When you ride him you always start out shy and a little self concious, but alfie knows he only has to push you a little before you fall off the edge and your own desire for pleasure overpowers you. You go ferral, your animal instincts controlling you, and Alfie just gets to sit back and enjoy the view.

Arthur

🍂 Arthur would be surprised but he wouldn't falter. He'd adapt immediately and fuck you twice as hard.

🍂 "Al-fuckin-right then," him grinning as he looks over you, the first time to check that you are real, he isn't dreaming, and the second time to admire the view.

🍂 You went from being intimidated by him, blushing, unable to look him in the eyes, barely raising your voice above a whisper to speak to him

🍂 And suddenly youre licking your own juices off his fingers whilst he fucks you from behind like a hungry little slut

🍂 Its a dream come true for arthur thats for sure.

🍂 He loves to talk dirty to you... Seeing you get desperate, fucking like an animal, brings out the animal in him and the two of you end up havinf the most intense, hot and rough sex.

🍂 He'd degrade you, but in a cute way, "Fucking pretty little slut, the prettiest fuckin slut in the whole world..."as he's fucking you so hard you can barely breath.

🍂 He loves this side of you, can't get enough of you when you're feral and desperate for his cock. So he likes to remind you how much you love his cock.

🍂 He would want to brag to his brothers about it but they just won't believe him, every time he tells them about your wild side they just smirk "in your dreams brother," and laugh at him. Arthur gets so annoyed but theres nothing he can do.

🍂 Sometimes he wonders if they are right, did he dream all this up?

🍂 But when he doubts himself and tries to approach you more gently, he's quickly reminded that he hasn't dreamt you up at all, that you really are his cock hungry little slut.

🍂 His favourite thing to do is bend you over furniture, especially if theres a mirror near by so he can pull your hair and force you to watch him fucking you. You go so wild when you can see yourself and you practically dregrade yourself for him... "Fuckk Arthur, harder please Arthur need you deeper..." "I'll let you do anything to me, fuck me however you want I just need you so bad I'll do anything..."

John

🌼 John would be so confused. He would have been completely taken in by how sweet and innocent you seemed, he'd have been enjoying teasing you, enjoying how blushy and flustered you got... And it wouldn't have occurred to him for even a second that beneath those rosy cheeks and doe eyes, hid a darker, naughtier side to you...

🌼 He'd find out when he was already fucking you, his cock hitting deep inside you... Youd let out the filthiest moan he's ever heard and start begging him to fuck you faster. It would be such a sudden change, such ab unexpected one that he'd stop for a second.

🌼 He'd stop, with his cock twitching inside you, and he'd just look down at you blinking... Then he'd hear you whining beneath him, feel you trying to grind against him, desperate for the friction and he'd chuckle realising how much fun he could have...

🌼 "Sorry baby what was that i didnt quite hear you?" he'd hover over you, that cheeky smirk making you self concious again as he remained still, not giving you what you wanted.

🌼 He would definitely tease you, trying to push you to the edge, wouldn't give in until you were begging, crying because you want him to fuck you So Bad.

🌼 Then he would, and he'd embrace this darker side of you, fucking you fast and hard and mercileasly. This man would over stimulate you until you were seeing starts just so he could hover over you and call you all these pretty but degrading pet names.

🌼 He will tease you about this slutty side you have at the most inappropriate times, often making dirty comments to you in public, never loud enough for other people to hear but loud enough to embarrass you

🌼 He enjoys making you beg for him, making you drool over his cock, making you so desperate for him that by the time he touches you youre begging him to let you suck his cock, shaking before he's even touched you.

Bonnie

🍀 Would not see this coming at all, he'd be in complete shock... Not just shocked that you're such a dirty girl, but also shocked at your stamina!! Its like you're never worn out, you always have the energy for one more orgasm...

🍀The first time you give him head he swears he literally sees god. He doesn't know what to do with himself just lies there, chest rising and falling, mouth slightly open, eyes on the ceiling as you crawl back up his body kissing his chest. You kiss him and he can taste the salt of his cum on your tongue.. He doesnt know what to say but he can feel himself getting hard for you already as you suck his tongue and moan into his mouth.

🍀 Honestly he goes to sleep that night and when he wakes up the next day he's convinced the whole thing was just a really vivid dream

🍀 But when you wake up in the same needy mood, begin tracing your hands over his body, pressing your bum against him and grinding against his crotch, he realises it wasn't a dream

🍀 And it unlocked an animal instinct in him so that this time he takes control and rises to your naughty side, fucking you hard into the mattress, spreading your legs and stretching you out. He's definitely a soft dom type, grunting and growling the cutest, sweetest praises in your ear. Kissing you and calling you a good little dove.

🍀 Like John his favourite thing is to overstimulate you, he's fascinated watching how you lose all your inhibitions when you fall apart. It makes him feel really proud?

🍀Definitely encourages his breeding kink

🍀 He would get worried that he'd fucked you too hard and will always have a moment of doubt afterwards wanting to make sure you're okay. "You will tell me if i hurt you won't you dove?"

🍀 "What if i like it?" you ask, partially because its true and partially because you want to see him blushhhhh

Isaiah

🐀Is surprised that someone as quiet and mousy as his sweet shy little darling could be so fucking filthy behind closed doors.

🐀 But he thanks his lucky stars that you are because the sex is incredible.

🐀 The first time you come out of your shell making him turn the light back on so that you can see everything he'd smirk, he wasn't expecting you to be that kind of girl.

🐀 "it's always the quiet ones fuck me..."

🐀 He loves the fact you ride him with such confidence and pride, he grips your thighs and tries to control your movements as he watches you come undone on top of him.

🐀Boy is hypnotised by your tits when youre riding him.

🐀When you tip your head back and the moans start tumbling out of you, when you start touching yourself right there in front of him...

🐀Loves to degrade you, loves to tell you what to do and then watch you become more and more disobedient the closer to coming you get.

🐀Will tell you to be as loud as you like, loves making you s c r e a m

🐀He will brag to his friends about how fucking crazy you are in the bedroom and if anyone so much as tries to laugh or disbelieve him he'll get defensive of you and threaten them with his peaky cap. He'll also threaten anyone who dares reply with "so shes a whore then ain't she..."

Michael

☘️ He isn't shocked by it actually, these days he thinks he's seen it all.

☘️ He finds out because he comes home from work one day and catches you masturbating. He hears you moaning his name and when he goes to the bedroom he is met with the (frankly gorgeous) sight of you on top of the bed sheets, legs spread, cunt making sucking noises as you cum with your fingers pumping in and out of your hole, your other hand furiously rubbing your clit.

☘️ He'd try to embarrass you with a slow clap, "bravo love, marvellous show..." but then he'd see the burning shameless look of desire in your eyes and be unable to resist you.

☘️ "No such thing as a good girl these days i suppose..."

☘️ Will degrade you and get off on degrading you. Definitely into spanking you and definitely gets off on how much you enjoy being spanked.

☘️ Will become addicted to your sex very very quickly. Basically brings you to work with him every day so that youre there for him to fuck whenever either of you gets the craving.

☘️ Loves hiding you under his desk, having you suck his cock for hours on end.

☘️ If you ever make out like youre tired of going into work with him every day he'll remind you what happened last time he left you unsupervised.

☘️ He likes to make you watch yourself in the mirror when he fingers you. He also likes to make you look at yourself when he's smeared his cum all over you, so he can show you what a nasty girl you are.

Sorry these weren't very long lovely, i hope you liked them!!!

#peaky blinders imagines #bonnie gold x reader #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders imagine

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hughiecampbelle · 2 months

Text

The Boys Preference: Suicidal Ideation

Requested: I know it’s a sensitive topic but may I please (and I do understand if you don’t) request a boys headcannon for them having you, their best friend m, struggle with suicidal thoughts?- anon

A/N: I don't mind at all my love! If anyone is struggling, my inbox is always open. I know firsthand how scary and stressful and draining it can be and I'm always around to talk. I hope you're doing okay my love! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher probably isn't that much of a comfort. He tries, he really tries, but the words don't come out right and the tone is all off and you end up comforting him ("I get what you're trying to say, Butcher", etc.) Though he's not good with words, he is good with actions. When you need someone to talk to, regardless of the time of day or what's going on, he drops everything for you, to listen and be there and let you know you always have someone. I think Butcher is familiar with these feelings. He's never wanted to act on them, but they're definitely there, especially in the years right after Becca disappears. You know, no matter what, your best friend is always there for you. Even when he's turned his back on the group, when he goes on his own and betrays everyone, he makes sure you know you're not alone.

Hughie is pretty shocked that you're talking about this kind of thing, that you're feeling this way. He never would have thought this was going on when you seemed so put together, so happy, so content. The life you two have is scary and draining and gory. Of course it would have its effects, but never would have imagined this. You end up breaking down in front of him, apologizing profusely. He's not sure what to do or say so he just holds you, hugs you, letting you cry it out. After this he makes sure he asks you how you're doing, wanting you to be honest. The idea of his best friend hiding this kind of thing from crushes him. He never wants you to suffer alone. Hughie's definitely had similar thoughts, especially after Robin and his dad pass away, but he's never wanted to act on them or anything. Still, he knows how scary it can be and he makes it clear to you he has an open door policy: if you feel like you shouldn't be alone, regardless of the reason or time, all you have to do is show up at his apartment. No questions asked.

Annie feels awful that she didn't figure it out sooner. Being part of The Seven both changed you. You left not long after she did, but you'd been with the group years before she joined. That kind of abuse for that long changes a person drastically. You began believing what Homelander said about you, you began believing that you deserved what had been done to you. Annie should have asked or said something, but you hid it so well. You smiled so easily, no one would have ever guessed. It isn't until after you've faced off with Homelander that she finds you crying. She assumed you were just tired from the fight, tired of fighting, but when you open up to her about what's really going on, it all makes sense. Years you spent under his reign, under his control, dealing with unwanted advances and words and hurt. She makes sure you know that she understand, that you can always come to her when you're having these thoughts.

M.M. knows you've been struggling for a while. You've become reckless, impulsive, careless. You throw yourself into fights without any regard for your safety or life. You weren't always like this, and it took him longer than he'd like to admit to figure it out, but when he does, it all starts making sense. He doesn't want to make a big deal or show about it, so he waits until you're alone to talk to you. You're not just putting your life in danger, you're drinking and smoking and asking Frenchie for whatever drugs you can get your hands on. He knows you're hurting. He knows you're bottling it up. But you don't have to. You shut him out, becoming defensive when finally talks to you. You call him crazy. It isn't until you're at your breaking point do you come to him and finally admit what's been going on. Marvin makes sure you know that you can always call or text or come to him, no matter what, and he will be there for you when things get scary. He also asks you to stop the self-destructive behavior and you do.

Frenchie is no stranger to these thoughts and feelings. After everything he's done, he's given these thoughts more of his time than he'd like to admit. Still, he never thought you were affected by them. You're talking to him one on one after he comes back from turning himself in when you admit you needed him. Your best friend. You admit that you haven't been feeling like yourself, that you want to do things to yourself and you're not sure how to make it stop. Immediately he's full of guilt and shame. He was so wrapped up in his own issues he never even thought something could be wrong with you, let alone something actually being wrong. He promises he will always be there for you, that you can talk to him about it no matter what. You don't want to bother him, but he makes it clear you could never be a bother or a burden. You mean everything to him. You deserve to feel happy and safe.

Kimiko knows you've been struggling. You're not acting like yourself. You're quieter, less optimistic, less willing to make a joke when times get tough or try to lift up the group when they need it. She doesn't want to make a big deal about it, so she waits until it's just the two of you before she asks what's really going on. Tired of lying, you admit that you've been having some really scary thoughts. She doesn't sign anything, she just waits until you've said everything you needed to before she comments. Kimiko understands those feelings. She had them a lot as a kid. That there was no point to anything, to living. She makes a deal with you in which you come to her whenever you're feeling like this to talk it out and, if things get worse, more overwhelming, you come up with a plan to get professional help. She knows she can only do so much, she knows her limitations, and she understands how dangerous these feelings can be.

#requested #preference #billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #hughie campbell #hughie campbell x reader #annie january #annie january x reader #mm #mm x reader #marvin milk #marvin milk x reader #frenchie #frenchie x reader #kimiko miyashiro #kimiko miyashiro x reader #the boys #the boys x reader

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lemon-natalia · 28 days

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Nona the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 31

quick note first of all, would anyone be interested in me also doing a liveblog for 'The Unwanted Guest' as well as these remaining chapters?

and after three books we’re back on the Ninth where this all started. Kiriona’s putting on a bit of a show with the ‘Home sweet home’ thing, but it really can’t be pleasant returning to somewhere she spent an absolutely horrible childhood trying to escape, and without Harrow no less

this might genuinely be the first time there has ever been a dog on the Ninth, i don’t really see the cult of goth priests being big on pets

‘then again, i’m not sure of John period’ yeah me neither, quite frankly even after a book which spends half its page time detailing his backstory i’m still unsure about what exactly his plans and powers are

‘a string of fairy lights wouldn’t have gone amiss’ honestly given Harrow’s general penchant for interior bone design, i think she could be persuaded if the fairy lights were made out of actual bone somehow

ohh holy shit there was a good moment while reading that description of Gideon surrounded by corpses with blood on her sword that i fully thought that she’d come back to the Ninth on some weird revenge mission and just straight up murdered Crux

‘My lady, you have come home to us … at last’ why is this making me feel things for Crux of all people. like he has no idea about Nona, or that Harrow’s lost in the River, or anything she’s been through at all. all he knows is that she left for the First, became a Lyctor, and never communicated or came home again

oh great we’re returning to possibly the creepiest part of GtN with the weird ‘devil’ things. between the duel of the Third and Sixth and possession of Colum Asht, the second half of that book is suddenly becoming very relevant again. while Nona’s been living in a combination slice-of-life/war drama, Kiriona’s life seems to have taken a sharp turn into zombie apocalypse novel. fun!

i’m very intrigued about the little pieces of John and Gideon’s relationship that we get here, notably i think (if i remember correctly) that this is the first time she’s mentioned him as ‘Dad’, seemingly completely sincerely, unlike calling him ‘Pops’ at the end of HtN. and apparently he falsely reassured her that the devils were confined to Antioch, but Kiriona seems to have fully believed him and sounds genuinely upset that he apparently lied about it

wow Crux literally cannot stop hating on Gideon even when he’s actively fucking dying. on one level i can admire the commitment but dude, this level of beef with a literal teenager is ridiculous

‘there was a figure there - dark robes with a pale face’ okay i really can’t figure out what is with the weird stalker figure here. is it Nona having a hallucination of Harrow? just a strange description of one of the nuns?

Pyrrha apparently painted a mint green nursery here a long time ago, i assume for Anastasia’s kid, which would explain the weird remark about helping deliver a baby back in chapter 10. also this implies a version of the Ninth which was at one point not quite so dedicated to the doom-and-gloom-bones-and-death aesthetic, which feels inconceivable to me

well hello Aiglamene long time no see, this is a slightly more welcome return than Crux at least. ngl i really wasn’t expecting to see all these characters from the beginning of GtN again, but it’s interesting to catch up and see how little has really changed there despite all the events of the series

ohhh my god. this is not how i expected a reunion between Aiglamene and Gideon to go. Aiglamene seems so genuinely shaken by the fact that she’s dead, and the fact that she’s apparently very angry at Harrow on Gideon’s behalf, like !! she definitely seems to care about Gideon a lot more than she ever actually let on to her

‘Nona was deeply horrified to see actual walk-around skeletons’ i think Harrow would be mortally offended that anyone in her body could find skeletons horrifying

actually yknow what i take back what i said in GtN about Palamedes, Paul should absolutely not be a therapist with this bedside manner

‘You can’t take loved away’ uh, excuse me for a minute i need to sit in a corner and cry my heart out for a moment. this moment really feels like a summary of a lot of themes in the whole series

ok the final nail in the coffin for my emotional wellbeing at the end of this chapter is that Pyrrha did actually get a birthday present, one that she’ll never be able to give her. here i am completely distraught over cheap moustache rides what have you done to me Tamsyn Muir

istg at least some part of Nona needs to live on. like c’mon Gideon died at the end of the first book and she’s still kicking, Nona can do it too. once again it is nearly the end of a Locked Tomb book and i am in severe denial about probably permanent character death

#i am really really sorry about how long the liveblogs of these last few chapters are taking #i promise i am almost there!#tlt #the locked tomb #the locked tomb liveblog #nona the ninth #lemon natalia reads the locked tomb

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royal-misfit · 9 months

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Spoilers for Disco Elysium

Dros is a very interesting character to me. Mainly because I see him as a foil for Harry. Both men are trapped in a past that they've idealized. Harry with disco music and his failed relationship with Dora. Dros with his time in the Commune. This cause both men to isolate themselves; figuratively in Harry's cause and literally in Dros'. Harry's drug and alcohol abuse is his attempt to numb himself to his pain, which causes him to lash out at his friends when they attempt to get him to stop. Dros is also constantly under the influence, having spent decades in the home of the Phasmid and inhaling its pheromones. Both men are consequently stuck in a state of arrested development. Harry stills acts and behaves like a twenty-something, obsessed with partying and living the "disco" lifestyle. Dros, meanwhile, has been in self-imposed exile since he was 16, and still has that teenage mindset regarding sex and compromise. However, both men are also noted to look much older than they actually are. Harry is 44 during the events of the game, but both he and Kim believe him to be in his 60s at first because of the damage all the alcohol and drugs has done to his body. Dros is similar, while we're never given his exact age, we know he was around 16 when he abandoned his post during the war. At most he's probably in his sixties. However, life in isolation and festering resentment at the world makes him look closer in age to René (a man in his 80s). Both men are also extremists for their chosen ideology. Again, probably owing to their arrested development. It's stated in-game that no matter what ideology Harry chooses, he takes it to the extreme. Out-of-universe this is so the writers can satirize the ideology, but in-universe I think it's Harry trying to find an identity for himself. Dros is always a communist, in fact he believes himself to be the last "true" communist in Revachol (and probably the world). If you do the Communist Vision Quest, and become the biggest Commie to ever Commie, he calls you a pedophile and a poser. Dros is a look into the kind of person Harry is in danger of becoming. An isolated, bitter old man with his best days behind him. Constantly moping about how he can never go back to the way it used to be. However he doesn't have to be that. It's not easy, he's probably going to relapse and he might never truly get over Dora, but the game still says he has hope left. When you complete the "Date of Birth Generator" thought you get this line: "You are 44 years old. The bloating may never leave your face, but beneath it - you still have some years. You still have some hope." That's the difference between Harry and Dros. Harry still has some hope left for his future. Dros has none left. To Dros, hope was lost the day the Moralitern and Coalition stamped out the commune. Now he spends his days looking through his rifle scope at a world that has moved on. While Harry loves Revachol, Dros despises it. The city still speaks to Harry, the people still matter to him. Dros would rather see everyone burn for moving on, because why should they move on when he can't? Harry could become someone like Dros, but he doesn't have to. I think that's why this scene has stuck with me so long after I first played Disco Elysium. You see the growth and change Harry makes over the course of the in-game week, and while there some concern that it won't stick, there's also the hope that it might.

#disco elysium #disco elysium spoilers #harry du bois #Iosef Lillianovich Dros #harry dubois

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gravityglitch-blog · 4 days

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My contribution to @beauty-beast-week, organized by @firawren, for Day 3.

The prompt was Lavender (relaxation, sleep, baths, summer, scents...)

I imagine this taking place in the movie's timeline, between the "Human Again" sequence and the famous waltz.

INK AND MOONLIGHT

Be careful what you wish for, Belle thought to herself as she idly drew patterns in the frost on the library window panes.

All her life, she had felt different. She'd never considered herself better or worse than anyone else. She was simply...apart.

While everyone around her was down to earth, she was an incurable dreamer. Her mother had been like that, according to her faded memory. Her father, too. She'd spent most of her life sighing over the pages of fairy tales and wishing something fantastical would happen in her own life.

It didn't get much more fantastical than life with a mythic beast in an enchanted castle filled with living, breathing housewares.

How long had she been here now? A few weeks? A few months? Magic had a way of playing with your sense of time.

She sat curled up in a corner of one of the massive library's many window seats. At her back, flames cheerfully crackled in the fireplace, keeping her warm this winter's night and providing a soft glow to read by. She took another sip of the lavender tea Mrs. Potts had been so kind to provide and tried again to focus on the book in her hands. Normally this was no trouble. But tonight, she was distracted by thoughts of the dreams she'd been having.

It was the same dream, every night since she'd been in the castle. She was lost in a beautiful, unfamiliar forest. It was silent as death, and equally endless. She'd start out walking, then running in search of a path, anything to lead her out of there.

And then the man would appear before her.

She could never make out much about him.

His figure was always blurred, like she were trying to see him through a veil of water. She could make out a few details. Tall. Copper hair. The only thing really clear about him were his eyes, the purest blue she'd ever seen.

Her dream self would always ask, "Who are you? Can you help me?"

"I would give anything to tell you who I am," the man would reply, his voice soft and sad. "But I can only help you back to the castle."

She would pull away. "I don't want to go back there. I want to go home."

"I know," the stranger would say. "And I know you have no reason to trust me. But please believe when I say, you have nothing to fear from the castle or anyone in it."

Then he would hold out his hand to her.

She always wanted to ask more questions.

But somehow, in that one heartbeat, her fears would calm. She would reach out...and she would wake up.

It wasn't even enough to call a nightmare, but it left her unsettled all the same.

She wrapped her hands around her teacup to better absorb its warmth. Belle giggled lightly as she felt the teacup snoring against her palms. At least someone was getting a good night's sleep.

A flicker of shadow caught the edge of her vision. She looked up and saw Beast in one of the archways leading to another book-filled chamber. Though her fear of him had mostly dissolved after that night he'd rescued her from the wolves, she still found him a paradox.

There was strength and power in every line of him, and he could move through this castle quick and noiseless as the shadows themselves. Right now, he looked like a child who had been caught staying up past his bedtime.

"You can't sleep, either?" she asked.

"I didn't mean to disturb you," his deep voice rumbled.

"You're not," Belle assured him. "It gets so quiet around here at night, I...I'd be glad of the company for awhile, if you don't mind."

He nodded, and she thought she glimpsed a shy smile, but his expressions were often difficult to read. He took up the other corner of the window seat, farthest from her. He gazed out the window at the gently falling snow, seeming hesitant to look at her. The silence was broken only by the quiet sound of his breath and her heartbeat. Belle studied his reflection in the glass, the only way she felt she could safely look at him for more than a few moments without being rude. She'd been terrified of him at first sight, she had to admit. The setting and circumstances hadn't helped, her father locked in a dungeon while she bargained for his freedom. Later, when she'd tried to escape and run right into the jaws of the wolf pack, she'd witnessed the sheer ferocity and wildness he kept contained. Looking at him now...there was a strange grace about him. She could imagine him as a creature of myth, an otherworldly guardian of some secret or forbidden world. Belle gave herself a mental shake. No wonder the people back home called her a funny girl.

"What are you reading?" Beast asked finally.

In answer, she held out the book to him. Carefully he took it from her and leafed through a few pages. One heavy eyebrow went up. "Vampires? Are you trying to give yourself nightmares?"

Belle shrugged, feeling slightly embarrassed. "What can I say? I've always found stories of the night fascinating."

He gave a rough snort, his version of a laugh. "No wonder you fit right in here."

She tilted her head. "How do you mean?"

"Can you really not feel it? The magic of this place embraces you like it's been waiting for you all its life."

Unsure what to say to that, she smoothed out non-existent wrinkles in her soft purple dress. Hoping to smooth out the awkward silence as well, she smiled gently at him. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

She gestured at the caverns of books around them. "You're in here nearly as often as I am. What are your favorite kind of stories?"

He turned to look at her then, and this time she was certain of the smile. "You were the one that reminded me how much I enjoy reading. After so long, I'd nearly forgotten how. I don't think I've even thanked you yet for helping me remember."

"You don't have to thank me. I was happy to do it."

He nodded once, then returned to her question. "When I was young, it was adventure stories. Pirates and treasure hunting."

Belle's smile grew wider, her mind conjuring the image of a miniature Beast embarking on imaginary quests across the high seas. "And what about now?"

He drew in a deep breath, as if gathering up his courage. "Would you like to hear it?"

"You want to read to me?"

"It's the least I can do, after you brought it back to me."

"I'd love to hear it!"

He glided over to a shelf nearby and pulled out a green leather-bound volume, more worn-looking than the others in the library. He rested the book on the windowsill, now kneeling on the seat so he could open the book for her. Belle gasped as the pages spread out to reveal a map of the sky, constellations lovingly drawn and named in delicate strokes of ink. Most stunning of all were the illustrations in the center, the sun and moon frozen in a celestial dance. She gently set her sleeping teacup back on his tray, tucking a napkin around him like a blanket, so she could give her full attention to Beast and his story. Taking only the very edge of the page between his claws, he turned to the beginning of the story. Here the ink spun into an icy landscape, not unlike the scene outside their window. The sky in this picture had been replaced by delicately scrawled words. In his low, soft baritone, he began to read.

"Once upon a time there was a poor husbandman who had many children and little to give them in the way either of food or clothing. They were all pretty, but the prettiest of all was the youngest daughter, who was so beautiful that there were no bounds to her beauty."

She thought he glanced at her here, but surely it was her imagination.

Stop being silly, she chided herself.

"So once", he continued, "it was late on a Thursday evening in autumn, and wild weather outside, terribly dark, and raining so heavily and blowing so hard that the walls of the cottage shook again--they were all sitting together by the fireside, when suddenly some one rapped three times against the window-pane."

So went the story of a girl swept away from her mundane world on the back of a white bear, who was truly a prince in disguise, her true love. They were parted by a mistake realized too late. But so strong was their love, that the girl was undaunted, riding the Four Winds until she could rescue her prince.

Belle wanted so desperately to hear the ending. But the lavender tea was working its' magic, and Beast's voice and presence was so warm, that she fell asleep upon her folded arms.

___

Beast heard her first snore before he could read out happily ever after. He suppressed a laugh with all his strength. She had an adorable snore. Moving quietly, he put the book back in its place. Now he faced a dilemma. He didn't want to wake Belle, but he couldn't exactly leave her here, either. Praying that this wouldn't be pushing their newborn friendship too far, he carefully gathered her into his arms until he was carrying her bridal-style. His heart almost stopped when she stirred, but she only pushed her face further into his broad shoulder. "Warm," she mumbled dreamily.

He would have given anything to live in that moment forever. But time never stops, not even within the walls of an enchanted castle.

Beast glided out of the library and up the stairs to Belle's room. He could already hear whispers from a few insomniac servants. There'd be gossip among them by morning. The door to Belle's room kindly (and silently) opened itself for them. He delicately laid her down on her bed. He thought that she clung to his shirt for a moment before settling onto her pillows, but of course that had to be his imagination.

Don't be stupid, he scolded himself.

He pulled the blankets over her, and allowed himself the indulgence of brushing a rogue lock of hair away from her eyes. He made it to her doorway before looking back at her once more. "Sweet dreams, my princess."

He knew he had no right to call her this.

She might never return his feelings.

Even if she did, a free spirit like Belle would never be owned by anyone, and that was part of what he loved about her.

But he couldn't help it. To him, she was a princess, no matter what happened next.

He softly closed the door and left her to her dreaming.

And dream she did. But this time, instead of the endless ominous forest, Belle dreamt of ink and moonlight and a gentle thundercloud weaving stories at her shoulder.

#batbweek #batbweek 2024 #batb 1991 #beauty and the beast fanfic #gravityglitch writes #the story he reads her is called “east of the sun and west of the moon”#another favorite of mine that shares themes with this one #belle's dream is also inspired by the old versions of this story #where beauty would receive messages in her dreams from the prince

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sgtcalhouns · 13 days

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Adore You

I'd walk through fire for you Just let me adore you Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

heyo, have some body worship smut?? it's the mechanic au, and felix has recently discovered that sex can be as emotionally intimate as it is physically intimate. he's not sure how to explain it to tamora, but he's happy to demonstrate. obviously nsfw. enjoy!

Soft morning light streamed through the bedroom window. There was nothing on the schedule for the day, no pressing tasks or work commitments to force the couple out of bed, although they had been awake for some time now. The only sound in the room was the occasional contented sigh, or words of affection murmured against skin. Felix couldn't imagine a more perfect morning.

Tamora lay beside him, glowing where the rays of sunlight met her skin. It gave her an ethereal quality that Felix couldn't find the words to express; he hoped the soft, slow press of his lips to her neck was enough to get the message across. He was generally adept at telling her how he felt, but she had opened him up to feelings he didn't even know he was capable of; trying to define them felt impossible. The more time they spent together, the more it seemed that his entire body was calling out to her, and with each passing day it was more difficult to resist the pull.

It was deeper than lust, but the distinction felt somewhat inconsequential when the outcome was the same. Still, he couldn't fight the growing need to explain himself to her. She deserved to know that he spent every waking moment longing to be right here, feeling her skin against his. But how could he ever tell her without sounding like every other man who had ever lusted after her? Lifting his head, he leaned on his elbows and gazed down at her. In this light, he could easily make out the dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. When her icy blue eyes glanced up at him, he nearly stopped breathing; she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He wasn't sure if he would ever get over the fact that she was here with him. Deep down, he never wanted to.

"What?" she asked.

"It's nothin', I just..." he paused as he searched for the right words. "I really love getting to know you like this."

His answer took Tamora by surprise. Normally, she might have teased him for openly admitting how much he enjoyed their intimacy—even now, he was often too shy to say it outright. But she could sense his earnestness, and she certainly didn't want to discourage him.

"Yeah?" she replied, a gentle nudge for him to continue.

"It's hard to explain," he said. "Of course it feels good when we're together, but it's more than just physical. It's somethin' deeper. I just feel so close to you."

He looked away from her as he finished his thought.

"I didn't know it could be this way," he admitted. "I didn't know I could feel like this."

It was clear that he’d spent a lot of time reflecting on the topic, but Tamora wasn’t sure how to respond. She didn’t think she fully understood what he was trying to say. In a way, it felt like he was still trying to figure it out for himself. In the absence of words, she reached up to brush her fingers through his bangs, which had become messy in his sleep. He closed his eyes and smiled, leaning into her touch before turning his head to press a kiss to the inside of her wrist.

“You know I’m not the best at talking about this stuff. My whole life, it felt like somethin’ I wasn’t supposed to talk about or enjoy,” he explained. A bashful smile appeared on his lips as he continued. “You remember how hard it was for me to admit that I wanted you.”

Tamora smiled at the memory.

“I sure do.”

“I’ve always believed in talking things through,” he said, shifting to reach one of his hands across her to rest in the curve of her waist. “But being with you has made me realize I can say so much without talking at all.”

She was about to ask what he meant when she felt his hand brush against her skin, making its way to her hip. His thumb lovingly stroked her hip bone, and she suddenly thought she understood his intentions.

“Tammy, I love you so much. Sometimes I get frustrated because there just aren’t enough words for me to tell you everything I’m feeling,” he explained. Even now, there was a sense of frustration that he couldn’t accurately explain himself to her. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding like all I care about is sex, but…”

Felix shook his head and met her gaze; she could see his desperation to be understood simmering in his eyes and she wished there was some way she could reassure him.

“Lately all I can think about is being in bed with you just like this. Touching you and kissing you and making love because when we connect, it’s almost like I can make you feel what I feel.”

His cheeks were flushed now that he had finally made his feelings known. He still didn’t know if she understood his meaning, but a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Tamora took a moment to reflect with this revelation in mind. He had always been an affectionate partner, even outside the context of their bedroom. His constant touch had been strange for her at the beginning of their relationship, but she had come to enjoy the small ways he doted on her. She had never questioned it, but she realized now that this, too, was an expression of his love.

“I love you in ways I didn’t even know were possible,” he continued. “I didn’t know I could do that before I met you.”

Tamora shifted, moving her hand from his forehead to the side of his face. His eyes were shining with love, and she took a moment to bask in it before pulling him close to her for a kiss. He sighed as he relaxed into the embrace, allowing his chest to rest against hers and relishing the skin-to-skin contact. In that kiss was everything he needed to confirm that she understood him, and it was freeing. It gave him the courage to ask for an opportunity to put his new skills to work.

“I can explain it better like this,” he murmured against her lips. His fingers trailed the curve of her hip before making their way back up to her waist. “Let me show you how much you mean to me.”

In lieu of a response, she pressed an ardent kiss to his lips. Around Felix, she often found herself at a loss for words; the sappy, romantic feelings he awakened within her were too difficult for her to voice. Instead, her approach involved hoping that the emotions translated clearly through touch. At times, she felt guilty for not being able to verbalize her feelings for him when he seemed to have such an easy way with words. Knowing that he’d come to recognize the possibilities of expressing himself this way made her feel seen and excited her beyond words.

“Show me.”

Felix shifted so that he could rest just above her. The hand not supporting his weight traveled a loving path up to her face, fingertips ghosting across her cheek to brush the hair out of her eyes. Once his view was unobstructed he leaned down for a gentle kiss. When she teased him with her tongue he accepted, perhaps a bit more enthusiastically than he had planned, but he simply couldn’t fight his instinctive desire. For a moment, he allowed himself to get lost in the sensations, to relish the electric spark between them and the drive to chase it, but soon he pulled back, reminding himself what he was hoping to accomplish. There was so much to show her, and he was just getting started.

They were both breathing heavily when he broke the connection, but he tried his best to maintain a controlled pace as he moved to his next area of focus—those darling freckles across her cheeks. She was indifferent at best when it came to the tiny sunspots that graced her skin, but he loved them. They were sparse, and so light that most of the time they were barely visible, but in the morning light they seemed to pop against her otherwise pale complexion.

He took his time as he left a trail of soft kisses from one side of her face to the other, taking care to ensure that no freckle was left out. Now that he had arrived by her ear, he adjusted his path to make his way along her jawline, maintaining the same steady pace as he showered her with affection. Sweet pecks transitioned to more impassioned, open-mouth kisses as his mouth traveled down her neck. Here he paused, resting his head in his favorite spot in the curve of her neck, and breathed in deep. He’d never felt so drawn to another person’s scent before meeting Tamora; it brought him a sense of peace, the type he always felt when he was close to her.

It took her by surprise when his affections picked back up and she felt his tongue against her skin. Felix loved it when she got rough and sank her teeth into his neck, but it was rare for him to behave so recklessly with her. He knew she enjoyed it when he kissed her neck, but most of the time he left it at that, not daring to allow his teeth or his tongue to mar her skin. Sometimes he let himself imagine giving in and ravishing her, leaving his mark behind for all to see. Even just fantasizing about it felt improper—he didn’t own her, and it would be wrong to mark her as though she was his territory. But that very feeling of ownership was just what excited him when Tamora left hickeys on his neck. Whether it was right or wrong to feel that way, he was hers, and he wanted everyone to know it. Anytime he got a glimpse in the mirror or he caught a stranger’s eyes flitting down to his neck was a little reminder of the moment she left her mark. Was she disappointed not to have any physical reminders of their intimacy? He’d never thought to ask her before.

As though she could read his thoughts, she buried her fingers in his hair, her firm grip keeping him in the curve of her neck. He had done a good job of maintaining control of himself, but the slight dig of her nails into his scalp did things to him, and she knew it. It felt like her way of granting him permission—he didn’t dare think of it as an outright request—to let go and give in to what he really wanted. His tongue found one of the sweet spots on her neck, where she always seemed to be most receptive to his touch, and her grip tightened. Tentatively, he allowed his teeth to graze the spot. He felt Tamora’s hum of mmhmm against lips and became emboldened to act in earnest this time, gently biting into her skin. She gasped and he felt the way her torso pressed against his when she arched her back. Feeling her body respond to him in this way was invigorating, prompting him to nip and suck at her skin without holding back. His hand reached for her breast, gently kneading as he soothed the bites with soft kisses.

"Tammy," he sighed against her skin, "you make it so hard for me to control myself."

She was breathing heavily, and as he caught a glimpse of her flushed cheeks, he thought he might melt. Their eyes met and the hunger in her expression sent a thrill down his spine.

"I don't want you to."

Somewhere in the back of his mind it occurred to him that he probably ought to be embarrassed about the affect her words had on him. These thoughts were quickly drowned out by desire, and he returned to his task with enthusiasm. His hand slid up her chest, reaching for her bicep. After such a heated exchange, she hadn't expected this to be his next move. But she was so strong, and he had never been able to articulate the way it turned him on. There was something exciting about the fact that she could truly do anything she wanted to him; knowing she possessed such power made it all too easy to submit to her, and it made their softer encounters feel that much more sacred. His fingers brushed against the contours of her muscles, lovingly tracing every dip and curve, and he desperately hoped it was enough to convey his admiration to her.

Next, he turned his attention to her breasts, taking one in each hand. He’d always felt that they were the perfect size; a tailor-made handful that gave him just enough flesh to sink his fingers—or teeth—into. Perhaps his favorite thing about them was that they were so sensitive—Tamora certainly wasn’t shy about the pleasure it brought when her breasts were touched, and he was always happy to oblige. As he ran his callused palms over her nipples, he felt a shiver run through her and he smiled.

“Does that feel good?” he asked.

She clamped one of her hands over one of his, wordlessly demanding more. He responded by shifting his palm so that he could grip her nipple between his thumb and his index finger. Gently, he massaged it between his fingers, reveling in the hum of approval she provided in response.

This was why he loved her breasts; she didn’t always tell him what she enjoyed most, but this was one area where her body couldn’t help but give away the truth. It was addictive, coaxing these reactions from her and knowing without a doubt that he was satisfying her. He couldn’t get enough, lapping his tongue over her nipple so he could hear her gasp, nipping at the soft flesh, and praying she could feel the love he was trying to bestow.

His mouth was still occupied by her breasts as his hands slid down to her stomach, fingertips ghosting over the peaks and valleys of her abdominal muscles. He felt them tense under his featherlight touch and couldn’t help but smile; of course he knew she was ticklish, but every time it presented itself felt like the first time. That such a visibly strong part of her body contained such tenderness was one of the many things about her that had settled deep into his heart.

Reaching behind him, he pushed the covers out of the way so he could better reach her lower half. He kissed his way down her stomach as he shifted further down the bed, hands caressing her waist on their journey to her hips. Everything about her was beautiful, but the curve of her hips was a particular soft spot of his. So much of her body was taut with muscle, but here his fingers could really gain purchase in the soft tissue that padded her curves. His hands were drawn to the spot like a magnet no matter what they were doing, and he was grateful that the action wasn’t too scandalous when they were out in public. He’d always been shy about expressing his desire to Tamora, but gripping her hips and pulling her close had become his preferred method of getting the message across.

Tamora understood him perfectly, instinctively spreading her legs apart to give him access to where she assumed he was heading next. The sight was certainly tempting as Felix scooted down the bed, but he had something else in mind first. Her disappointed huff was not lost on him as he directed his attention to her thighs, and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"You can be patient, can't you?" he teased. "I'm not quite done with you yet."

He didn't wait for her to answer, kissing his way down one of her inner thighs. Patience had never been her strong suit when it came to these matters, and he knew that, just like she knew that he wouldn't torture her on purpose. Even as the tension between them grew, she could sense how important it was to him to pay tribute to every part of her body. Every touch was intentional. So, even though she ached for his touch between her legs, she would see this through without complaint.

"You know what I love most about your thighs?" he asked, his featherlight touch along her inner thighs making her tremble. "They're so muscular and strong. You could probably crush me if you wanted to."

His tone was even as he spoke, pressing an occasional kiss to her skin. He was right, she probably could crush him between her thighs, but she didn't understand what was so appealing about that. He placed a palm on each of her thighs, slowly pushing them further apart and settling down between them. Out of everywhere he'd ever been, his favorite place in the world was right here.

"So when you use those thighs to hold me in place, I know it's because you've got me right where you want me," he explained. "When your legs are wrapped around me, I know I'm doin' something right."

At this, he leaned in close and ran his tongue along her slit. She gasped and arched her back, reaching down to grip his hair between her fingers. He loved this part of her so much, he didn't think he'd ever be able to put it into words. The smell, the taste, the texture against his mouth, his hands, his cock; merely the thought of it was enough to get him going. He loved learning all the different ways he could use it to bring her pleasure, and he loved that he was still learning. He loved that it could push her to climax more than once, and he really loved that they hadn't yet found her limit. Perhaps selfishly, he loved how it felt to be buried inside, to know without a doubt that she was just aroused as he was and to feel her walls pulse and clench around him as she came.

With a renewed focus, he wrapped his lips around her clitoris, lapping and sucking at the tender flesh. Her response was immediate, and while up until now he had managed to ignore his own arousal for the most part, the sound of her moans immediately brought it back to his attention. Under normal circumstances, he might have given in to his desire, but this morning was about something else. Before he could satisfy himself, he wanted to be sure that he treated his current task with the love and attention it deserved. He wanted to involve all of his senses, to engage with every part of her that he loved. Removing a hand from her thigh, he gently slid two fingers into her. A breathy moan escaped him as his fingertips became enveloped by her slick heat; her taste, her nails digging into his scalp, the sound of her moans, all of it was driving him mad.

Felix picked up the pace, thrusting his fingers into her and sucking intently on her clitoris. As her thighs squeezed the sides of his head, a sound he had never made before escaped him, a strange mix between a laugh and a moan, because she knew exactly what that meant to him. Tamora knew it would signal to him that she wanted him to keep going exactly as he was, that he was right where she wanted him. He was overcome by a wave of emotions, love and affection and need, and he knew she understood. This was what he had been trying to tell her all along—something special happened between them in these moments, something unspoken that made him feel more seen than he had ever experienced. His enthusiasm quickly pushed her over the edge, and he savored the sensations around his fingers and against his mouth as she reached her climax and slowly worked her way back down.

As he withdrew his fingers from her and sat up, he watched her, enamored by the complete relaxation in her body as she caught her breath. He thought about asking her if she had felt what he did, but he worried it might ruin what made it so special in the first place. When she finally opened her eyes and met his gaze, he knew without a doubt that she had felt it, too. In that moment, he had never felt closer to her, and a wide smile broke out across his face. She returned it as she sat up to face him.

"Tammy..." he began, quickly losing track of the words he was looking for. "That was amazing."

Still at a loss for words, she reached out for the sides of his face and pulled him to her for a kiss. As he relaxed into her embrace, she felt his erection brush against her leg, and he felt her smirk into the kiss.

"Y'see what you do to me?" he murmured against her mouth. "It's no wonder I can't seem to get enough."

His hands were on her hips, a gentle grip that told her everything she needed to know.

"You know what I think?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

Before he knew what was happening, she flipped him down onto his back, crawling over him with a predatory expression.

"I think this little conversation is far from over."

#hero's cuties #hero's cuties fic #sgt calhoun #fix it felix jr #my fic #idk man the idea came to me and would not leave so here we are #i wanted to write more but this was one of those situations where the characters took over and things happened at times i didnt plan for lo #it's still way longer than i anticipated so.

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findafight · 1 year

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STOBIN AS DRIFT COMPATIBLE BESTIES FIGHTING KAIJU!!!

OKAY OKAY BUT. post canon au where the Breach opens in the early nineties instead of 2013, and eventually when the Jaeger Program is just in the fledgling stages, right at the start when they figure out the drift and sharing the load, some American government goon looks at another, and they're both thinking the same thing. They know a couple chucklefucks who are scarily in tune with each other that already have monster fighting experience. The problem is of course the chucklefuckery and also they. Hate the government.

But they figure yknow. May as well try to get the actually very good at killing monsters the military can't clowns. They need people willing to go into deathtraps and fight giant monsters, and those two have done that a few times before. They need people that can connect to each other while also fighting without dying, and figure those two are a prime example. So after a lot of government groveling and Robin and Steve slamming the door in multiple suits' faces, they eventually agree to at least...see what it's all about. Because they heard about the attack in San Francisco on K-day, about Manila and Cabo San Lucas and Syndney, and it was all bad, and as much as they dislike and distrust the government and military...they do want to help (and the pay is...good). It was probably only a matter of time before their luck in avoiding monsters ran out anyway. At least this way they had some control of how.

So Steve and Robin are in the Jaeger Academy almost as soon as it opens. It's...an adjustment. They're obviously not the regular type to join, mostly its a bunch of men who were maybe ex military or something, and they stick out. Training is a pain in the ass, they've spent the years between the upside down closing lounging and working and starting to relax, and so there's the expected heckling.

(I want them to meet Newt and Herman so bad like. they'd be around the same age as them (because we are bumping everything in PR canon back for this) and I think the combo punch of Newt and Robin being themselves would be hilarious. They're all kinda outsiders in the macho militarism of the Academy and i think the chaos would just be. unimaginable. )

But anyways. I think during the testing to see drift compatibility, Steve is called up and looks the scientist/military guy (because it's early days there aren't really "instructors" yet) and says "If you even think about putting me in one of those fucking things with anyone other than Robin, you've lost your mind and forgotten we're only here because you asked us to be together." Everyone is like ooooooh but then he squints at them and they shut up like oh damn okay sorry yeah.

And that's the end of that discussion.

There's something about being in the drift with each other that makes all that complaining and speculating and wishing to combine when they were teenagers seem half-assed. It's...not like anything either of them can describe. It feels right, like they were always meant to be that way. If they lived in each other's pockets before the Drift, they're in each other's skin now. Silent communication is expected for long-term drift partners. Residuals of the bond, dream sharing, but Robin and Steve, even among other pilots are exceptional. There's entire discussions happening in brief eye contact. They move in sync outside the Jaeger just as well as if they were still in the Drift. They've only had one RABBIT incident, and they pulled out of it fine. It's...eerie for some people to watch them, even other Pilots. (also the fact they'll casually mention shit like "well at least the air isn't toxic" or "hey. don't call this torture, that's offensive. I've been tortured!" or even "can't believe i survived evil bats for this shit." which is mildly offputting)

They end up on the Pacific northwest and into southern B.C. with a Mach 1 called... something like Midwest Deluge or something idk. They're media darlings the first Kaiju they kill two fifty kilometres off the coast of Washington. Robin is quirky, and Steve has all his midwestern boyish charm, and together they entrance people with the Drift. There's interviews and talkshows and then at some point action figures? (Dustin does not let this go. By this time he's also working in K-sci. [obviously??] but he's still annoying little brother shaped.)

Steve is usually one of the first quoted to describe the Drift, in his first interview having said "When I first met Robin --became friends with her--it felt like we'd known each other our whole lives. Now we have." Robin is also sometimes quoted with "There's probably nowhere I'd rather be, than in Steve's head."

Of course, with them being in the media, being kickass, and also being part of a program that emphasizes compatibility, there's questions on whether or not they're dating. Because while the Drift isn't romantic by nature, my god people would romanticize it. And when two hot people of opposite genders that are not related to each other in any way are piloting the Jaeger, and are just *gestures to all of stobinisms* assumptions abound.

They're in an interview after their third kill when it happens. It's a few years into their tenure as Pilots, maybe '96? (if the Breach opened in '91 and they were recruited in 93?) The host asks "So. romantically. You two have always denied that attraction, but working so close together, literally in each other's heads, isn't there a chance that has blossomed into something else? Something more?"

They roll their eyes. Steve says "there's nothing more than what Robin and I have. Romance isn't more it's just something else."

Robin goes "Plus..." Before Steve looks at her, eyebrows raised. "I think so" she says, obviously to a question Steve asked that only she heard. "What are they going to do? Fire me?" they both laugh.

He shrugs. "if you're sure..."

Robin hums. "Yes, well. I agree with everything Steve said. The Drift isn't romantic, it's connection. It's knowing. All sorts of relationships can be Drift compatible. Steve's and mine is Platonic. Capital P."

"You gonna actually say it anytime soon?"

"Shut up."

"I dunno it seems like you're stalling."

"Christ, Steve. I'm getting to it. Let me tell the world I'm a lesbian without nagging, goddamn." She turns to the interviewer. "anyways yeah I'm a lesbian so it was never going to be romantic between me and Steve. I'm just obsessed with him."

There's a pause, before they lean into each other and giggle. Steve whispers "good job" that's barely picked up by his mic.

They get a stern talking to by their Marshal but Robin was right. They can't get fired for it. They're too good and pilots are too valuable for plain ol' homophobia to get in the way. (It's seen as a cornerstone moment in queer history, a Jaeger Pilot, someone the world can do nothing but respect, came out! casually. with an already supportive loved one sitting beside her, ready to laugh with her.) And while some people act weird or distant about it, most move past it pretty quick, considering the Midwest team is well respected and there's obviously the bigger problem of underwater aliens trying to kill everyone. You either get over it and work with them or you leave or get people killed.

By the time of the events of the movie, they're old-timers. They've upgraded once to a Mach 3 after a brutal fight with a high category than expected made Midwest Deluge inoperable. They're in Hong-Kong because where else would they be? They need to end this. Just like they needed to see the Upside Down to the end. Their whole lives have been dominated by fighting for their lives and to protect their home and the world. One last push. They aren't even forty yet.

and then the breach is closed and the world is saved and they can retire with their massive pensions from being the best monster killers ever <3

#stobin #platonic stobin #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic with a capital p #stranger things au #stobin pacific rim au #Anonymous #finda writes stuff #findaanswers #pacific rim au

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stayandcozy · 9 days

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Chapter 2: People, Places, Pecs

Chapter Summary: Sasha visits the apartment and encounters a range of vibrant personalities. Though initially intimidating, the boys quickly show their true selves. However, when she receives an important call, Sasha is forced to confront challenges from back home that disrupt her newfound sense of comfort.

WORD COUNT: 5100

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“Don’t let him fool you, Sasha, he’s just stalling for time because he knows his songs suck,” Kai playfully called over to me and elbowed Felix in the ribs. He must have caught my concerned expression, as Felix had been trying for a while now to get his phone to stream to the tv and had resorted to mumbling frustratedly at it, too busy to even rebuke Kai’s jab. I fought a tiny smile as I watched him from across the room, his brow scrunched in deep concentration.

Next to me on the leather couch, Solana was also quietly playing on her phone. She looked uncomfortable, shifting every so often. Everyone else was engaged in small talk, filling the room with a low hum of conversation while we waited. I played with my hands and glanced around the dorm again. There wasn’t much to look at, with the bare, white walls and polished hardwood floor giving the space more of a feel of a hotel room than a place where 8 boys lived together. I would occasionally catch something that made the space feel a little homier though, like the guitar resting in its case against the wall, a sticky note placed randomly with a hurried note scribbled on it, water rings on the table next to unused coasters, and discarded beanie hat on the back of the couch . I even thought I saw a cat go into one of the rooms as I came in, but couldn’t be sure.

Lonnie moved next to me, and I turned, thinking she was finally about to say something, but deflated a little as she just pulled her legs under her and continued to scroll on her phone. She had been quiet since we sat down, but I couldn’t figure out why. She didn’t seem mad or sad, and I made a mental note to ask her what was wrong after we returned to our own place later. We had grown so close so quickly, but I still felt like there were things about her I wasn’t even close to knowing yet. She said that if she hadn’t come along with me tonight I would have been fine, but little does she know that she’s the only thing really grounding me over here.

Korea is the polar opposite of where I grew up. I had never even taken a train before coming here and now it was my main form of transportation. The amount of people in the airport made me feel like I couldn’t breathe at first, let alone everywhere else. I missed my family, Laura especially. My dad had assured me he would be ok while I was gone, but I wasn’t sure how long that was going to be and I didn’t like the way Mom couldn’t meet my eyes when he told me that. The amount of nights I spent unable to sleep, the anxiety almost getting the best of me, were usually more often than not after moving here. But Lonnie was always there. Holding me, wiping me tears, assuring me it would all be ok. For some reason, I believed her when she said it.

I glanced down at her brownie that she barely touched, then whispered to her, “Lonnie, are you gonna eat that?”

We had eaten before we came over, but Felix surprised us by warming up some homemade brownies, the irresistible smell hitting us as soon as he brought them into the room. Kai assured us they were the best brownies we were ever going to have, and sure enough, mine was gone in about 2 seconds. I couldn’t even imagine how they would taste fresh out of the oven.

Solana looked over at me and shook her head. “No, babe, it’s all yours.”

I was about to press her to try it, but it looked too tempting and I replied with a hurried thanks before starting to eat her piece. I suddenly felt like I was being watched, and quickly looked up to meet Jeongin’s eyes across the room from where he was sitting with Claire. She was excitedly talking to him, and after glancing back at her, his gaze found mine again and he gave a small, friendly smile. I was alarmed at how fast my heart decided to start beating. I returned a shy smile, praying that I didn’t have any brownie on my face, and he watched me a moment longer before giving his attention back to Claire.

I was grateful that Jeongin and Felix especially had made us feel so welcome. Seungmin also greeted us kindly, but so far he had stayed more removed from the conversations, looking over the group occasionally in an extremely thoughtful manner. My eyes flicked over to the corner of the room, where I had almost forgotten the resident there, due to how quiet he had been all night. Even more so than Solana.

Bang Chan didn’t need to speak though. His presence filled whatever void his silence left. When we arrived, he gave us a tight smile and led us to the living room, but since then he hadn’t said a word. I looked over at him a few times and observed while he would watch Jeongin, Felix, and Seungmin carefully, like he might need to protect them from an enemy only he could see. Occasionally, his eyes would wander over to Claire and Colette since they were seated right in the middle of everyone, and even a few times over to Solana. He never looked at me, though, and I couldn’t tell if I was relieved or not.

“Got it!” Felix’s voice broke me out of my thoughts, and the screen in front of us flickered to life, showing a paused video.

“Finally! Good job, Grandma!” Kai said, shaking his head, while Claire and Collete clapped lightly for him.

Felix smirked at Kai and rolled his eyes before turning to me and Solana. I noticed that whenever Felix looked at you, you felt a little more important and seen. It was a nice feeling.

“Alright. Solana and Sasha… Are you ready to be introduced to some good music?” he threw a playful look at Jeongin who proceeded to feign hurt.

Lonnie put her phone down, her indicator that she was ready, I suppose. I popped the rest of the brownie into my mouth and nodded at Felix for the both of us.

“Good music? Is that what we’re calling it now?” Kai teased. Colette and Claire started to defend the boys, but they were interrupted by a loud, muffled voice.

“Hyuuuung, are you home? I can’t find my—"

A new guy suddenly walked out of a back room, catching all of us off guard. He was in gym shorts, with a towel draped over his shoulder and a toothbrush in his mouth. Most importantly, he was shirtless.

My face grew hot and my eyes widened as his own big eyes met mine. I was on the end of the couch and close enough to smell the soap he had used.

“Oh my god!” he yelled, his toothbrush falling out of his mouth.

I tried to avert my gaze, but as if his scream was a cue, another guy walked out (thankfully fully clothed) and instantly broke into wild laughter. I heard the boys behind me laughing too, and I whipped my head around to stare at Lonnie like What the hell?!

Her stunned expression told me she had no idea either.

Once the newer guy finished laughing, he went over to the frozen one and patted him on the back.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just never seen so many pretty girls before.” He smiled cheekily at the other one before looking over us all. “Hi, I’m Lee Know.”

Colette and Claire started their routine freak out as Kai called over, “What’s up, Minho?”

“Hey, Kai, I’m doing good. Nice to see your face around here again,” Lee Know waved at him before turning back to his poor friend next to him. “Han, go put on a shirt, you freak.”

The friend, who I assumed was Han, quickly muttered an apology and scurried off, still flustered. My face still felt warm too as Lee Know perched himself on the arm of the couch by me. I stared ahead, dumbfounded. How do you start a conversation with an idol?

“I’m Colette!” I heard a high voice call from the other side of the room, followed by a “And this is Claire!”

I winced. Colette and Claire had never given me a reason to think badly of them, and I genuinely enjoyed working with them. But I had also worked with enough girls like them to know that there was more to them than they let on.

Lee Know waved over at them while I looked at Lonnie again, expecting her to introduce herself next. I blinked in surprise though as I caught her back on her phone, indifferent to the new human who was right next to us. Before she could react, I swiped her phone out of her hands and sat on it.

“Sasha!” she whispered, but before I could scold her I heard the boy behind me switch his focus onto us.

“And what are your names?”

I gave Lonnie a look, and it must have been a pretty bad one because she tossed her hair behind her shoulder, straightened up, and replied. “Sorry, my mom’s been texting me all night. I’m Solana. It's a pleasure to meet you, Lee Know. ”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, but still noticed his breath catch.

“Minho,” he said to her. “Please. And no worries, family comes first. I get that.”

I waited a second, then said lamely, “I’m Sasha.”

Minho looked down at me then and said almost playfully, “Hi, Sasha.”

I couldn’t help but return a little smile at him, but then my eyes wandered past him when Han emerged from the doorway again wearing a shirt this time. He approached us almost timidly, his hands in his pockets and his hair falling in front of his eyes.

“Good job getting dressed, Han, I’m so proud of you!” Minho said, slapping a hand down on Han’s shoulder. Han’s lips twitched in a small smile as Minho gestured to me and Lonnie. “Have you met our new friends? These are—”

“It’s ok, I heard all the introductions from the other room. I won't make you do them all again,” Han said, his smile growing bigger as he looked over at Minho who sighed appreciatively and dramatically.

“Good, because I’m starving so I’m gonna go order some food.” With that, Lee Know stood up and bounded out of the room and through the sliding glass doors that led to their kitchen.

Han continued to stand there, his hands still in his pockets. I patted the now vacant arm rest by me. “You can sit here if you want,” I called to him. “I really don’t bite, Han.” I tried out his name to show him things between us could be normal after our first, very memorable encounter.

He slowly looked up at me, and I was taken back that his eyes were still so big and deep, even when he wasn’t staring at me in shock. That is, until he started to smile at me and his eyes crinkled in a way that made me believe he had never done anything wrong in his life and needed to be protected at all costs.

“Thanks, Sasha,” he said, and came over to sit. I smiled back. So he had been listening.

Before I could talk to him any more, the room was filled with a deafening base, followed by a rhythmic beat blaring from the speakers. I looked back to see Felix staring at us with a victorious look on his face. Seungmin cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled over to us, “Grandma Felix wanted to get started before Grandpa Bang Chan fell asleep!”

Bang Chan finally moved at that as we all laughed, snatching a pillow off the couch to attack Seungmin with. I was struck by how quickly his entire aura changed, and definitely like this new one better than the one he had before. Even Lonnie lightened up next to me as heavenly singing and harmonizing filled the space.

Bang Chan had Seungmin in a loose chokehold by now, Felix and Kai were lip syncing the song, Claire and Colette were singing it for real, Jeongin was smiling contentedly, and I felt Han ease next to me. I reached over to take Lonnie’s hand as the lyric, “Hold my hand cuz we’re taking off,” was carried through the space by Felix’s smoothe, commanding voice. She squeezed my hand in return, and when the next song began I finally let myself think this was where I was meant to be in this moment, that I was allowed to be here and take up this space. I found that their lyrics were ideal for wandering thoughts, and their melodies carried the wordless feelings that had occupied my soul countless times.

I let my head fall back against the couch and closed my eyes as Felix played a new song. For the first time since coming to Korea, I started to feel truly at peace.

That is, until I heard a very real voice behind me declare, “Ne sonnim!”

I was aware of an incredibly loud, fast, and intense rap happening in the song blaring through the speakers, but could barely hear it over the blood rushing in my ears as I practically jumped off the couch, Lonnie next to me doing the opposite and acting like she wanted to curl into a ball and hide forever.

I heard Claire stifle a scream, Colette choke out a “Merde!” and the rest of the room burst into fits of laughter, dominated by a high, quick giggle that was new to me but made me want to smile even though I thought I was going to die a moment ago.

I whipped my head around to see someone new standing behind the couch, a half eaten piece of pizza in one hand and a Bacchus in the other. His broad shoulders and big smile established his powerful presence immediately, but it was a power that felt warm and welcoming, and I found myself giggling along with him as Felix turned the tv down and called, “Binnie, what on earth made you think that was a good idea?”

“You’re assuming he thinks, at all, Yongbok,” Seungmin replied matter-of-factly, and the new boy shot him a look, trying to be angry, before basically stuffing the rest of the pizza in his mouth and climbing over the back of the couch to sit snugly between Lonnie and Claire. I glanced at Lonnie to make sure she was ok, but the boy’s presence didn’t seem to set her on edge at all, and I could even see a glimpse of a smile on her face as he settled in.

“Everyone, meet Seo Changbin. Seo Changbin, meet everyone. You were late so you don’t get the formal introductions.” Han said on my other side.

Changbin groaned jokingly, and I found myself admiring the way he changed the atmosphere in the room. His face was kind and playful, but his eyes were set and observant, making him extremely present in the moment.

Claire and Colette introduced themselves immediately, and I also found myself feeling envious of their outward confidence. I wish I could be like them in that sense. Hell, I was sitting in a room full of idols pursuing my dream job in another country, why shouldn’t I be? Yet, I found myself remaining quiet as they struck up a conversation with them and Kai briefly before remembering who was on his other side and turning to Lonnie and I expectantly.

“Hiiii, I’m Changbin,” he said, placing his hand on his chest and indicating that he was, in fact, Changbin.

To my surprise, Lonnie began to introduce herself without further prompting, and I was proud of her for it.

“I’m Solana,” she said, mimicking him and placing her hand on her chest too, and earning another rapid giggle from Changbin. “And careful Changbin, I always get my revenge on those who strike against me first. Better sleep with one eye open.” She cracked a smile at him as he raised his eyebrows in a challenge.

“Good luck with that. I don’t scare easily.” Han snorted on the other side of me, causing Changbin to promptly remove the pillow he was sitting against and heave it at him. I heard an “Oof!” but before I could turn around to assess the damage, Changbin calmly asked me, as if nothing happened, “And you are?”

“Sasha,” I said, and gave him a genuine smile which he returned.

“Great to meet you all,” Changbin said, turning to the room again. “But I have to ask, what are you all doing here? No offense.”

“Sasha and Solana had never heard any of our music, and we had to change that,” Lee Know replied, entering the living room again holding a piece of pizza himself now.

“You didn’t change anything, you only got here 10 minutes ago!” Kai teased.

“No pizza for you, Kai.” Lee Know quickly said.

Before Kai could charge at him, Changbin whirled on Lonnie and I. “You’ve never heard our music?” he asked overdramatically, his mouth hanging open.

Han, apparently fine after the pillow attack, started to say, “Well, you guys told me Sasha’s heard one s-” but was cut off with another pillow to the face, this time thrown from across the room by Jeongin who was now sitting as innocently as only a maknae could.

“Well, now that you’ve heard some, do you have any favorites?” Changbin asked us excitedly, and I felt myself squirm a little under his gaze. I wasn’t expecting this, and I really didn’t want to disappoint or upset anyone, especially Bang Chan, who had still barely looked in our general direction during the night, much less spoke to us.

Lonnie didn’t seem to care what anyone, much less Bang Chan, had to think, and replied, “Cover Me.”

It seemed like it surprised them that she picked a softer one of their songs. After an entire night of stealing glances at each other, when she said her favorite, it was the only time Solana and Bangchan made eye contact.

“And you?” Changbin asked me mischievously.

I looked around the room at the faces of the boys that had intimidated me only hours ago. And they still did by all means, but after a glance at Colette and Claire too, I channeled some confidence from deep within me and said, “I really liked Broken Compass.”

I was met with a general reply of “Ooooooh!” and even a “Hm…” from Seungmin, which I took to mean he was at least a little pleased with that answer.

“Yeah, I open that song, it’s no big deal,” Han bragged from behind me, and when I gave a little laugh and turned to him, I was struck again by his smile, and how it made me feel confident enough to add, “I liked Blueprint a lot too.”

“I open that song!” Changbin exclaimed triumphantly but was quickly shot down by Seungmin’s blunt response.

“You hum the first few notes. You have to open your mouth to open a song.”

I tried not to laugh at that and Changbin’s scowl, while Han added, “I open that song too, then!”

I faced Han again. “I’m sensing a trend here.”

He gave a small shrug and scrunched his eyes nearly closed. “What can I say?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but then realized my mind had gone blank when he did that. What could I say?”

“I…” I started, but trailed off as I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I had it on Do Not Disturb, so I knew any message getting through was probably important. I pulled it out and saw a message from my mom: Call me.

My heart immediately started hammering as I thought what this could mean. I could only think of one thing. “I’ll be right back.”

I was hoping Han heard me since my voice was barely a whisper, and thankfully the rest of the group had slipped into more quiet conversation so I was able to escape to the kitchen, pulling the sliding glass doors closed as softly as I could so no one could see me shaking. I watched Lonnie turn to look for me, but I had my back faced to the living room before I could see what she did next.

I felt like I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs as I went over to the counter and braced my arms against it. I felt the cool surface of the countertop against my palms, grounding me back to where I was. I couldn’t do this here, not in their kitchen. I just had to calm down enough to call my mom, then I could head back out there. I mean, “call me” doesn’t necessarily mean that something’s wrong with Dad, does it?

A short breath escaped me as I tried to exhale a long one, and I frustratedly pushed my hair out of my face before bringing my phone back up to look at the message.

“Come on,” I tried to convince myself to make the call, but my chest was rapidly rising and falling and I was starting to feel a little lightheaded and-

My phone slipped out of my hands and I nearly screamed as the wall next to my head disappeared. Or rather, the fridge door that was open by me shut suddenly and I was left standing next to someone new.

He was a little taller than me so I had to tilt my head up to look at his face, but when I did I almost looked away again because it felt like I was looking at a human work of art, with messy hair and long eyelashes and dark eyes accenting a smooth canvas with high cheekbones and full lips. He seemed like style and aesthetic and craft brought to life. He exemplified a muse an artist could work on their whole lives to properly capture, but who would probably end up going crazy because they never really could.

He blinked, probably just as surprised as I was, and I felt my face start to get warm with embarrassment. I hope he didn’t hear too much of the state I was in a few moments ago.

“Sorry,” I basically had to remind myself how to speak as his eyes quickly roamed over my face, taking in my disheveled state. “I didn’t know you were in here—obviously, and I wouldn’t have come in if I had known…”

I trailed off as he wordlessly bent down and retrieved my phone from the ground. I cursed myself for not taking a step back as he straightened back up, still close enough that I could now make out a freckle under his eye. The corner of his mouth turned up slightly, and he raised an eyebrow intently as he brought his hand up between us, offering me my phone.

It felt wrong to think about touching him, as if I might mess him up somehow. I pinched the corner of my phone, careful to avoid his long fingers, and took it back sheepishly.

“Thank you,” I started, but then realized I didn’t know his name. I trailed off, waiting for him to finish my thought.

His smile grew and he looked at me in something that resembled amusement. After a pause, he said, “Hyunjin.” His tone suggested a hint of surprise, and I felt my cheeks flush again.

“Thank you, Hyunjin.” I said quietly, not knowing where to look.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and replied, “You’re welcome,” mimicking the tone I had used when I waited for him to tell me his name.

“Sasha,” I told him, smiling slightly back at him despite not feeling worthy enough to be in his presence ever again.

“You’re welcome, Sasha.” he said.

My legs decided to work again at that, and I took a tiny step away from him. Despite his lively gaze never wavering, my phone suddenly felt very heavy in my hands with the reminder of the message on it.

My heart began to beat a little faster again, and while my breathing was still even I said, “Is there a, uh, place where I could make a call?”

He tilted his head a little at that, squinting his eyes. “Why? Are you ok?”

I honestly didn’t know how to respond to that. I opened my mouth to try and nearly burst into tears right then and there when I heard Lonnie’s voice from behind me. “Sash? Everything good? You got up so fast and—” It was her turn to trail off now as she noticed Hunjin and my expression. Protectiveness flashed in her eyes but before she could say anything I gave her the most reassuring smile I could and said, “I was just talking to Hyunjin, he’s the last member we had to meet so I decided to, you know, meet him.”

She looked at me quizzically and I felt Hyunjin shift behind me before they exchanged introductions that I barely heard. Lonnie stepped closer to me and I realized I needed her help. Desperately.

As Hyunjin went back to the food he was pulling out of the fridge, I held up my phone with an unsteady hand so Solana could read the message on the screen. She knew about what was going on at home, and she would understand.

Her eyes grew more concerned but also softened as she looked at me, making my own eyes fill with tears. Whenever I was reminded of how lucky I was to have her I wanted to cry, but with these circumstances I wanted to break out into a full on sob.

I lowered my head to hide behind my hair as Lonnie looked past me at Hyunjin.

“We’re gonna head out,” she told him. “It was nice to meet you.”

He hesitated, then, “Ok. Nice to meet you, Sasha. You too, Solana.”

I exhaled a breath when he said my name and tried to flash a smile over my shoulder at him. He probably thought I was crazy, but it didn’t matter. Fine art should be kept at a distance, anyway.

We made our way back into the living room and I heard Lonnie tell everyone, “I’m getting a bit tired and think I’m gonna go, Sash is walking me home.”

I felt the atmosphere in the room change, which made me feel even worse. Lonnie put her hand on my back to push me towards the door.

“So soon?” I heard Jeongin say.

“Awwwwww,” Changbin and Lee Know said in harmony.

“Feel better,” Han said softly.

Seungmin and Bang Chan were silent, but I already knew they were for different reasons. I could feel Bang Chan’s eyes on us as Lonnie added, “Thanks for having us.”

Colette’s voice followed us into the hall, “Text me, mes amours.”

I held Lonnie’s hand the whole way out, muttering “Thank you” and “You can go back” and “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.”

She squeezed my hand on the last one and replied, “Lovingly, shut up, babe.”

As soon as the night air hit me I felt like I could breathe again. All the thoughts and feelings of everything that had happened in the last few hours rose into the night like the skyscrapers of Seoul surrounding us. I let myself get lost in the twinkling lights and sounds of the city as Lonnie navigated us. We crossed streets, avoided people, and held onto each other as we found ourselves towards the center of the city. I heard the soft sound of running water and felt a cooler breeze on my face, and before I knew it we were looking down at the Han River.

Lonnie stood with me a moment, looking down at the still black water. She moved her hand to my arm, gave it a light squeeze, then slowly started walking farther along the bank, giving me some privacy. It was time.

Before I could overthink anymore, I called my mom and waited, the repetition of the dial tone and the water lapping below me bringing everything to almost a standstill.

“Sasha?”

“Mom?”

“Hey, Hon.”

“What’s up?”

She paused, and I closed my eyes.

“He was remitted. It doesn’t look bad but it doesn’t look good.”

I felt a tear finally escape, then another, and squeezed my lips shut so she wouldn’t hear me cry over the phone.

“So what’s next?” I asked.

“We’re not sure yet, we just got the news earlier.” She sighed, sounding tired.

“Do I need to—” I started, but she quickly stopped me.

“No, stay there. It’s not that serious and he’d want you to be over there still doing your best.” More tears at that, and I angrily swiped them away. “Ok. Where is he now?”

“He’s asleep, I can have him call you tomorrow.”

“Kay, talk to you tomorrow, Mom.” My voice broke a little against my will. “I love you.”

“Love you more.”

Before I could argue that I loved her most, she hung up. I slowly brought my phone down, let a deep breath out, then Solana was there.

She wrapped her arms around me and let me cry into her shoulder. She didn’t ask any questions, just rubbed my back and played with my hair and whispered words of comfort I couldn’t even understand. She let me cry until I felt like I had no tears left and the chilly wind had my wet cheeks feeling numb.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, pulling away and wiping my nose. She swiped her thumbs under my eyes, getting any tears I missed. Her expression wasn’t one of pity, but rather one of determination to give me the strength I didn’t feel like I had at the moment.

“Don’t you dare let this hold you back,” she told me. “You take this and you put all of it into your work, into your art. I’ve never met someone more deserving and capable of this career.”

I looked at her and found myself nodding, unsurely at first, then with a purpose.

I believed her.

Written by Cozy! <3

Happy Friday Everyone.

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kohakhearts · 9 months

Note

7 for palletshipping tho?-

7: we always used to have sleepovers as children, why would it be weird now? wc: 1 731 read on ao3 here

Ash is at his wit’s end.

It has been a long, long time since he’s been truly and properly alone. Even then, he knows so many people in so many corners of the world, it is hardly a surprise when he bumps into a familiar and friendly face on his journeys. They will typically spend a few days to weeks together, and then, eventually—as they always do—part ways again with a spirited promise to meet again soon.

This is how it always is. Ash wouldn’t have it any other way.

Except for one Gary Oak, that is.

Oh, Ash sees him everywhere. They run into each other, quite literally, in Castelia City trying to find a place in line for a Casteliacone. They cross paths a dozen times or more at the docks in Vermilion City, boarding separate ships to faraway regions. They even find themselves two seats apart on an airplane bound from Kalos to Kanto.

But after a few hours of conversation, Gary always steps back again. Says, somehow bracingly, “It was good to see ya, Ash,” “I’ll see ya around,” “Catch ya later”—each new iteration means the same thing: I’m not sticking around this time, either.

Since they were kids on the road for the first time, this is how it has been. One degree of separation, and then a dozen more with each one of Gary’s receding footsteps. Ash cannot trace or follow them, has never known how to catch up to someone whose movements always face away from him. He spent so long trying, he became someone whose footsteps others believe can be followed, too. Sometimes, he even needs to remind himself that the view from up ahead cannot be the reason he refuses to turn around when a friend calls out his name.

It is almost ironic, then, that this should be their position now: caught out in the lush green of northern Hoenn, Ash calling out to the shadowed figure ahead of him, “Gary! Hey, wait up!”

Gary pauses, though he does not so much as turn his head until Ash has jogged up beside him. He offers Gary his best winning smile and says, “Wasn’t expecting to find you out here! What’re you up to?”

“Looking for a Pokémon.” Gary’s eyes turn away from him again, sweeping over the sunlight-dappled shrubbery. “Actually, maybe you could help me out.”

“Sure! What are we looking for?”

“Kecleon.”

Ash blinks. “Did you wanna catch one?”

He shakes his head. “It’s injured. I saw it earlier, but it disappeared before I could get close enough to check it. I doubt it’s gone far. It didn’t look like it was in very good shape.”

Ash’s decision was already made when he saw Gary standing out here alone in the first place, but that is enough to solidify his convictions. With a sharp nod, he says, “I’ll check this way, then. We can meet back here.”

Gary’s gaze still doesn’t reach his, even as he nods his agreement. Ash doesn’t waste any time to do more than notice it; they will return to each other, without a doubt. They always do, at least long enough so that Gary can say good-bye.

The search, however, is long and fruitless. The leaves shudder with the late summer breeze, calling his and Pikachu’s attention, but never once do they encounter anything larger than a skittish Oddish or wide-eyed Zigzagoon peering out from behind tree trunks and bushes. As green begins to glow orange with the final strokes of daytime, Ash trudges back to the place he met up with Gary to wait for Staraptor to report back to him with its findings.

It arrives only a few minutes later, head bowed as it delivers to him one disappointed squawk: nothing.

Ash smiles at his Pokémon and pulls out its ball to recall it. “It’s okay. You did your best. Thanks for the help.”

By now, the last coals of evening are beginning to cool into dark splotches all around him. The wind whispers through the trees; he wraps his arms around his torso, momentarily frozen by the lonely quality of its passage.

But then there is a rustling to his right. His head snaps around just as Gary appears from the late-day shadows. He’s carrying a bundle in his arms, brow pinched. Without even looking up from it, he steps past Ash to get to the clearing behind them and says, “Help me start a fire, would ya?”

Ash doesn’t need to be told twice when there is an injured Pokémon in their midst. He pulls out two Poké Balls and directs Sceptile and Pignite to begin gathering kindling for them. Pikachu hops off his shoulder and scurries away to help them.

In no time at all, the fire is blazing and a small pile of juicy oran and sitrus berries have been gathered nearby it. Ash watches from one side of their makeshift fire pit as Gary mutters reassurances to the tired, feverish Kecleon, then puts his back to the scene and begins pitching his tent. It is twenty parts habit and eighty parts hope that has him throwing out the extra sleeping bag he’s taken to carrying since he realized how often he is pulling his friends away from their day-to-day lives for adventures without them having any time to prepare for the fact.

It is only when he crosses to the other side of their site that he sees Gary is watching him. It is not merely the nighttime shadows that contribute to the darkness of his expression.

“I should take Kecleon to the Pokémon Centre,” he says.

Ash peers down at the now-sleeping Pokémon with a frown. “Is it really that sick? It’s gonna take at least an hour to get there, and that’s if we don’t get lost or sidetracked on the way. ‘Sides, the Pokémon Centre’s gonna be closed soon. We shouldn’t wake Nurse Joy if it’s not an emergency.”

The wind slices between them, much cooler now that the sun has gone away.

And then Gary says, voice tight, “Who said anything about ‘we’?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Ash mutters. “‘Course I’d come with ya.”

A sigh. He watches as some of the tension drifts out from Gary’s body.

“Stay here,” Ash tells him. “I set up the tent for us both. You need to get some sleep too, y’know. You were searching for it all day!”

But just when he thinks Gary is going to acquiesce, he turns around and grabs his bag from the ground. Still not looking at Ash, he says, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The night seems, all at once to still. Ash stands there for a long moment, heart beating loud and fast, just waiting for Gary to quantify that statement. To give him some kind of reason for his departure, if there ever even was one, but—

He doesn’t.

And finally, the desperate irritation beneath his breast rises and swells. He takes a step forward, demanding, “Why not? You’re always doing this! Can’t you just trust me on this?”

He sees when the tension returns. A familiar weight on Gary’s shoulders.

“It’s not about trust. This is just how it is.”

Gary takes a step away from him.

“But why’s it gotta be how it is? C’mon, Gary, we used to have sleepovers all the time as kids! What’s so different about it now?”

His heart leaps up into his throat when Gary whirls around. The shadows are cast away by the light from the fire, revealing wide, astounded—angry?—eyes.

“What part of this is anything like that?”

Ash swallows. “Well, uh—how is it anything not like that? We share the tent and if you’re really too worried about Kecleon to sleep, then I’ll be here to keep you company. Or, if not, then we can watch each other’s backs if anything happens. Isn’t that a good thing?”

Gary opens his mouth, then closes it again. He blinks once, hard, then laughs. It is not a joyous sound in the slightest; Ash is reminded of sneering taunts, a rivalry he never knew how to play out.

He says, feeling very small, “I just wish you’d stop walking away.”

A beat passes. Gary lifts one hand up to his nose, sighing deeply. When he drops again, the heat in his gaze has simmered down into something less familiar, almost sad.

“It’s different, Ash. We…we’re different. It’s been a long time. Let it go, all right?”

“No. Why should I? You aren’t giving me a reason to!”

Behind him, the fire spits and crackles. Pikachu pads around it in order to sit down by his feet, looking up at Gary quizzically.

“The reason is we aren’t kids anymore.” Gary hoists his bag up higher on his shoulder, determinedly not looking at either of them. “You’re never gonna get it, so why bother wasting time explaining? It was good to see ya, Ash, but—”

Before he can finish the thought, Ash surges forward and grabs hold of his wrist. When Gary’s wide eyes fall down to meet his glare, all he can think to say is, “Stop leaving me behind, you jerk!”

He feels Gary’s hand twitch, but he dares not release his hold now. Gary doesn’t force him to, either.

He just asks, “Is that what you think I’ve been doing?”

And all at once, the anger floods out of him. His grip relaxes, just slightly. He lowers his gaze, and he nods.

The wind picks up again, but Ash doesn’t feel its bite as Gary steps in closer to him again. Gary’s fingers brush against his wrist, then force their way up to his hand, effectively loosening Ash’s hold on him. But just when Ash expects the warmth to disappear, those fingers wrap between his, holding tight.

“Okay,” Gary says, very quietly. He shrugs his shoulder, so that his bag falls down his free arm and back to the ground. His hand squeezes Ash’s. “I’ll stay.”

Ash breathes out, deflating against him. His head falls to rest against Gary’s shoulder. Everything else seems in an instant to disappear.

“I missed you,” he admits at last.

Gary stills. But he does not pull away. And finally, finally, he lifts his free hand up to Ash’s cheek. It is warm, and familiar.

He says, “I missed you too, Ashy.”

bed-sharing prompts!

#palletshipping #shigesato #pokemon #anipoke #mine #*fic #*reqs #no beds were shared but you know what. thats just how it be with these two sdhfhdjks #when you sent this i definitely had something fluffier in mind but then i was gripped by the sad piano music i put on in the background #THANKS AM ILYSM <3<3 #answered #r0wlets

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flyingmintbunny0 · 1 year

Text

Back by popular demand- What if More Archivist!Martin AU!!

Here's how the Hill Top Road roommates were born!

(If you can spot all the spiders in each panel, you have sharp eyes)

Get your context below the cut~

Ok, first off, I adore all the tags in my first post about this AU, they make my whole day!!! I'm so glad people latched onto the silly roommates especially, so I figured I'd show how Martin found them!

~~~~~

Story (A bit of a prologue setting up The Web if you will):

CW: Spiders (but they are cute, I promise)

Martin was always a very isolated kid, he never made many connections with other people besides his mother. So when he came out to her after he'd turned 15, he had nowhere to go when she kicked him out of the house until he "came to his senses".

He wandered the streets, waiting until enough time had reasonably passed so he could go home and apologize to her. In the meantime, he found himself sitting on a park bench staring up at the swaying leaves on a nearby tree.

Then, he felt something crawling up his arm. And another something was creeping up his other hand. Looking down, there were two tiny spiders clinging to Martin, as if they were afraid he would throw them off. Which was ridiculous of course. Martin had always had a soft spot for little creatures and cooed to them softly.

"Hello little ones, where did you come from?" He giggled for the first time in... he can't remember how long, as the little critters waved their front legs in the air towards him. Martin wanted to believe they were trying to say Hi back.

Martin spent the afternoon distracting himself by watching the spiders roam around, crawling from hand to hand like an endless spider treadmill. They spun fragile webs between his fingers and Martin thought they were beautiful.

The sun set, but the two little spiders didn't seem keen to leave him, so Martin decided to bring them home with him. On the walk back, he came up with names that seemed suitable for each of them. If they were going to stick around, they deserved to be properly addressed. He thought about his favorite subject in school for ideas. They had just finished up a poetry unit and he was captivated by a few poets in particular. He looked down at the spider on his shoulder that had climbed up on him first.

"You seem like an Oscar Wilde type," Martin gently poked at the spider. The newly appointed Oscar looked offended, like it could give a sarcastic retort if it was capable of human speech.

"As for you..." Martin paused at the second one. It was sitting in a fold of Martin's sleeve, but poked its head out nervously at Martin's attention. "I'm going to call you John."

John Keats wasn't an especially inspired choice, Martin thought. But he was his favorite author at the moment. Something about his sappy verses drew Martin in like a moth to a flame, or a fly to a web.

~~~~~

Later, after Martin had settled into a long-term position at the Magnus Institute, London, his mother decided she wanted to be rid of him for real this time. She asked him to set her up in a proper care home, and left him alone in their apartment. Martin was neither financially nor emotionally stable enough to stay in the lonely apartment, so he left as soon as possible with his few belongings in tow.

Annabelle Cane found him. Martin didn't understand how or why for a long time. But he eventually assumed it had to be connected to his spider friends somehow. At least she was friendly enough.

Annabelle led him back to her house on Hill Top Road. And sure, he wasn't expecting to live in a house filled with roommates that kept worms and moldy food(?) in the fridge, or a barrel drum full of wax in the basement, or an attic coated from floor to ceiling in cobwebs. But where else could he go? It's not like he could live in the library at work.

Yeah, his new roommates were weird, but he soon realized that he liked them. They were rough around the edges, but he figured out ways to be helpful, to smooth them out. He painstakingly experimented to find out their preferred choice of tea, and even convinced them to join him for movie nights every weekend.

And everything was going well! Martin was enjoying his work in the library, and he actually felt stable for once in his life.

That is, until Elias Bouchard called Martin into his office one day...

~~~~~

OK I didn't mean to write a whole fic for this picture, but I couldn't stop myself pffff

All of the spider talk is 100% @lelouchootori 's fault btw ;v; I just thought it would be cute if the lil spiders I was adding to Martin's hair had lore, and they said that the spiders should have names, so it really spiraled.

Another tidbit! After meeting Annabelle, Martin realizes that she can communicate with the spiders Oscar and John. This causes him to talk to them a lot more (even if he can't understand them), especially in his Archivist office. I have a very specific scene in mind to make this a full-on office comedy:

Martin: What do you think about this creepy statement, John?

Jon (passing by his office door): What? What did you say?

Martin: Oh, sorry, I wasn't talking to you Jon.

Jon: ???

#Archivist Martin AU #the magnus archives #tma fanart #martin blackwood #annabelle cane #jane prentiss #jude perry #jonathan sims #Not me drawing lil spiders in Martin's hair for funsies then giving them a full-on lore dump #If Martin ever has more than 2 spiders on him the others are Annabelle's : )#Thank you all for the kind words I'm so happy to share more of this brainrot hh I have so much MORE in my notes too lol #And ty lelouchootori for supplying me with all the ideas <3

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hyacinths-in-a-storm · 9 months

Text

Stolen Crowns and Blue Flames

Tyzula Week: Day 4 Role Reversal

You can read it here on archive of our own as well

A/N: I put off editing this for so long.

The Royal Family of the Fire Nation was said to be blessed by Agni’s light. Ever since the creation of firebenders, they were given the mandate that stated that they had divine right to rule.

Ty Lee didn’t quite believe that. If her family was truly blessed, then all seven of the Firelord’s children would be firebenders, not five of them. It was a sore point among the family, that Ty Lee and Ty Lat were as ordinary as the common man, nothing interesting about them. They were to be political pawns, to be married off to the highest bidder. Ty Lat had accepted her fate, spending her days in the river swimming, and making friends with the servants and the turtle-ducks.

Ty Lee refused. Instead she chose to spend her days pouring over every single piece of information she could get her hands on. She spent nights looking through historical sources, looking for anything, anything that could be used to have the upperhand, or at least level the playing ground against benders.

Finally her studying paid off. Chi-blocking, the skill of disrupting the bodies’ chakras, paralyzing people, and in benders, blocking their ability to bend. For the first time in her life, her Father looked at her instead of through her. The first time she demonstrated it properly, he even called her a prodigy.

He sent her to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, to nurture her gift, and to help her form bonds with the daughters of other high-ranking officials.

That’s when Ty Lee met Azula.

“I hear that another one of the princesses is joining us, I think she’s even going to be in our class.” Azula remarks as she grabs another tree limb, trying and failing to climb higher,

“Oh yeah I know that.” Mai answers impassively,

“You could at least pretend to act surprised, it took a lot of listening to figure that much out.” Azula says, glaring from her spot in the tree,

“You mean eavesdropping.” Mai corrects,

“Same thing. Besides, how did you figure it out?” Azula asked, holding onto the trunk of the tree as she inches to a standing position,

“My uncle told me father, my father told me.” Mai picked up a rock, testing its weight,

“Where did your uncle get the news from?” Azula asks, readjusting her weight so she could stand without the support of the trunk,

“He made the decision himself.” Mai aimed the rock at Azula’s forehead,

“What do you mean?” Azula noticed the projectile and crouched down preparing to jump down from her perch,

“He’s the Firelord and you shouldn’t jump down from there you’ll break your legs.” Mai answered calmly, as if she were commenting on the weather,

“What?!” Azula yelled in disbelief, she jumped down anyways, nearly crushing Mai, “Your uncle is the Firelord and you never thought to bring it up?”

“It never really came up.” Mai shrugs, readjusting her aim, and within the blink of an eye she throws it aiming for Azula’s left eyebrow, Azula who was used to this dodged it without missing a beat.

Ty Lee, who was eavesdropping, was not. It hit her square on the temple. She let out a cry of pain, attracting the attention of two girls.

“Mai!” Azula yells as she runs over to Ty Lee’s side, “I told you that your throwing obsession would get us in trouble!”

“Says the person who likes to set flowers on fire for fun.” Mai responds dryly,

“Only the old ones!” she protests,

Ty Lee feels a presence beside her. She looked up to see a girl staring down at her, her face merely a few inches from Ty Lee. Her heart beats faster for some unknown reason. She was so close that Ty Lee could count each of her individual eyelashes if she wanted to.

“I’m alright.” Ty Lee states, proud that her voice didn’t falter,

“Sorry about that, it’s just someone,” Azula pauses to glare at Mai, “doesn’t watch where they’re throwing things.” Ty Lee actually laughs at that, and is about to respond when a voice calls her,

“Ty Lee, come on! It’s your first day and you’re going to make us late.” it was Ty Woo who was towering over them, Ty Lee stood up so fast she got dizzy,

“Sorry Ty Woo, I’m coming right now.” Ty Lee knew her sister would be reporting every mishap to their father, and Ty Lee wasn’t going to risk falling out of her father’s favor so soon after she’d earned it,

“Hurry up.” Ty Woo added unhelpfully before walking away, Ty Lee scrambled after her sister before remembering the whole purpose she was sent to school,

“See you around?” she asks the girls, hoping her voice sounds inviting, and not like her only social interactions had been servants and her family members. Azula waved and flashed a bright smile that had Ty Lee’s heart racing again.

Ty Woo put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it hard, nearly dragging her away,

“Associating with the governor’s daughter? I hear she’s a talented fire-bender.” she says, smirking, she squeezes harder “Something you could never be.”

“Shut up.” Ty Lee responds, and the light fluttering in her stomach sours to dark, heavy rage.

Ty Lee watched with glee as Azula crumbled to the ground with a loud oof! Ty Lee gracefully bent backwards and slowly, deliberately got to her feet.

“You don’t have to look so happy.” Azula says as she climbs to her feet,

“It’s the fifth time I won.” Ty Lee answers smugly,

“That’s because you’ve been practicing handstands for years, I only learned last week.” Azula pouts, “Besides, can you do this?”

Azula opens her palm and a large red flame ignites, flickering and sparking. Azula’s firebending is nothing like Ty Lee has ever seen before. It’s red, but small blue embers run up the length of the flame, which promise a prodigy, as if Azula wasn't already classified as one.

Ty Lee should feel jealousy stir in her stomach. A reminder that benders will always be stronger than non-benders, will always have the upper ground, an unfair advantage. But she feels nothing but excitement and a growing sense of admiration even. It flutters in her chest like a dragonfly, trying to break out of her chest. The feeling scares her. It scares her that one person, that one girl can completely throw off any control she had over her feelings.

"Earth to Ty Lee. Earth to Ty Lee. Are you there?" Azula says booping her on the nose,

"Yeah, I'm here." Ty Lee answers, snapping out of her thoughts,

“Good, I’m pretty sure the chef made some mochi, let’s go see if we can steal some.” Azula responds, taking Ty Lee’s hand in hers. She could feel her heartbeat along her palm, where her palm was pressed against Azula’s. Almost as if her heart was trapped in-between them. It wasn’t an unwelcome feeling.

Two years later, in the middle of the night Lady Azula and Lord Zuko, the children of General Ozai and his wife Lady Ursa went missing. The official story is that they were kidnapped, despite the dozens of guards, despite the hundreds of safety features, they were taken from the beds in the middle of the night. They disappeared, seemingly without a trace.

Ty Lee wouldn’t see her again for two more years.

Ty Lee steps foot out of her palanquin and into the recently captured Earth Kingdom territory. She stretches out, wondering how the hell anyone can stay in that cramped if gilded cell for hours on end. The town she was staying the night in was very quiet, even the children seemed muted, though this is most likely due to the tall Fire Nation flags that whipped in the wind behind her. It was the closest town to Omashu without actually being in Earth Kingdom territory. Still, this town set her on edge, maybe if she scoped out the area, she would feel better. She motioned to the nearest servant and informed them of her plans, and they bowed leaving her to her devices.

The town was silent. Any person she came across would scramble back in fear. Parents would grab children and usher them inside, girls would glare at her, if they had the guts to even look at her, and boys mostly looked at her in disgust, except for the brave few who decided it was appropriate to look at her with lust. She scoffed, glaring at one of the offenders, and his face paled,

One boy stood out, for instead of fear or disgust, he looked at her with something akin to recognition. He put down the tea kettle he was holding and bolted into the building behind him. Strange.

Ty Lee brushed it off and made her lap around the town, when she came back she found that the servants had already set up. One of them handed her a letter. She ripped it open, scanning over the contents, it was a generic report from a general about how Omashu would fall any day, and that they would be honored to have her-

“Ty Lee?” she stiffened, her entire body tensing as swore that she could recognize that voice. She turned around coming face to face with someone she hadn’t seen in years. She whispered, so quietly she could barely hear herself,

“Azula?”

A/N: This has to be by far my favorite prompt, and I’ll probably do more little snippets for this AU in the future.

#tyzula week 2023 #tyzula #azula #ty lee #ty lee x azula #azula x ty lee #Day 4: Role Reversal

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atlasdoe · 2 years

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Hi my name is Ace and I just finished Wednesday and need to rant about Xavier

Xavier was by far my least favourite character on the show for multiple reasons and I need to rant about it so here is a long ass rant about why I dislike him, why I think he and Wednesday will never work and how I think the writers could improve his character next season.

If you like Xavier feel free to read this and give your view just don't be rude, please :)

Firstly he is the most boring character on the show. He literally has nothing going on.

Firstly I dislike the “small American town stereotype” that he is, that being the tortured artist. This is a personal opinion but it’s been done so many times before and these characters have always gotten on my nerves the most. To me, Xavier is no different and n my mind he’s just Jughead Jones with a paintbrush.

The main arc that Xavier has throughout the season is that Wednesday thinks that Xavier is the hyde, but in the end its nothing, Xavier was telling the truth the entire time and has nothing to hide therefore we spent all of this time trying to figure out what he was hiding only to realise that he wasn’t hiding anything at all. If Xavier had something else to hide then the reveal could’ve made his character more interesting but because there was nothing he lost any potential he originally had.

Compare this to Tyler (which I will be doing a lot, sorry) who also had an arc focused on mystery, we knew something was up with Tyler's mum but not what, similarly to how we knew something was up with Xavier and his paintings and inconvenient coincidences, however with Tyler the payoff worked. Tyler was hiding something, there was more to his character than we originally thought and that reveal added layers to his character from being a small-town barista to a serial killing monster. Xavier is the same person at the end of the season then he is at the start, even being framed and arrested didn’t develop him in any way.

Another thing that Xavier is going through is the troubles he has with his dad, but we don’t really know anything about that. We know that his dad is a famous seer and that Xavier has daddy issues but that’s it. A lot of the characters in the show have struggled with their parents, the difference with Xavier is that we don't see those struggles play out. We see all of the other characters interact with their families so we can get a true sense of what they’re dealing with but all we get from Xavier is him sulking in a corner. Now I understand that one of Xavier's and his dad's hardships is that he doesn't show up but then I would’ve wanted them to use another way of showing us more about their dynamic. Maybe just hearing one side of a phone conversation would’ve done more to show what their relationship is like rather than just being told by Xavier.

They could be teasing Xavier and his dad for season two but if that's the case then they did a bad job at it because I do not care about Xavier or his dad at all.

My main point is that when there are plotlines like the hyde or Bianca’s mums cult or Enid not being able to wolf out or the Gates family, Xavier was the character I was the least interested in, especially when it was at a point where it would be too obvious if he did end up being the hyde.

Of course, I have to talk about the love triangle when talking about Xavier's character because it took up a big part of his screen time.

I do want to start by saying that this is probably not an unbiased opinion as I am a Tyler and Wednesday shipper but I will try to look at both sides as I can.

Firstly let's get the “who was the most creepy” argument out of the way. I don’t really believe that either of them was creepy in a sense.

The worst Tyler did was told Wednesday that he felt like she was giving him signs when she obviously wasn’t. I’ve seen people say that if this was Xavier then more people would call him creepy and I do agree with this but mostly because you have to look at the context in which Tyler is saying it.

Tyler was wrong, Wednesday was not giving him any signs at all but at this point in the show Tyler is deliberately inserting himself into Wednesday's life to gain her trust, therefore it is very possible that Tyler knew he was wrong and was doing this to manipulate her or at least to put the idea of them being romantic into her head. Later on in the scene, he asks her if she’s just using him as a pawn in her game and as a viewer, I was fully expecting her to tell him that she was, but she doesn’t and instead tells him that she had priorities rather then just turning him down.

Everyone has their own opinion about whether Tyler really cared for Wednesday or not and how much of what he said was genuine. In my opinion, he started out purely trying to manipulate her but started to catch feelings as they started to spend more time together, similar to how Wednesday started out only using Tyler to later catch feelings for him.

Xavier is different. Xavier doesn’t have any ulterior motives regarding his feelings towards Wednesday, so if it was Xavier who said this, it would be in a different context.

In theory, Xavier cares more for Wednesday, but that doesn't mean he’s a better fit for her.

My main criticism of their relationship is that Xavier just doesn’t get her like other characters do. I have three examples of this.

The first is when he suggests that Wednesday should join the secret society despite the fact that it seems to be led by Bianca who Wednesday hates and the fact that it’s a social club when Wednesday doesn’t like socialising. He then proceeded to get mad at her because he “stuck his neck out for her” when she declines.

Another example is at the dance where Xavier tells Wednesday that Tyler ruined his mural as a warning that she should stay away from him. Indicating that he thought that telling her this would make her back off of Tyler when really her response to this was “I would’ve done worse.” Keep in mind that this is Wednesday Addams we’re talking about. She once said that she would hate to be done for attempted murder because then everyone would know she failed, why Xavier thought that she would care about his mural is beyond me honestly, I actually find it quite funny how he thought that would do anything.

My third example is to be determined really but him giving her a phone at the end of the season I feel is another example if him not really understanding her. Wednesday says that she “doesn’t want to be a slave to technology” and throughout the season that never changes, she is never seemed to be lacking without a phone. The whole wanting to keep in touch is understandable but I think it could’ve worked better if Xavier had given her a flip phone or something like that. A way for them to keep in touch without having it be modern technology like an iPhone. (Also saving money in Xavier's case)

(Side note: I actually think that scene could’ve worked a lot better if it has been Edin giving Wednesday the flip phone rather than Xavier. It seems like something she would do and I do believe that if she was to get Wednesday a phone she would get her a flip phone rather than an iPhone.)

Compare these situations to Tyler playing Legally Blonde as a scary movie because he knew that she would hate the film and like that she hated the film (manipulation or not, he still understood her enough to manipulate her well)

The main thing that Xavier had against Tyler is that Tyler is obviously the villain but again this is Wednesday Addams and as toxic as Tyler is Wednesday is just as bad.

If the writers do it right they can have an amazing lovers-to-enemies-to-lovers arc with maybe the whole “only I can kill you” vibe. Idk but dating a serial killing monster seems right up Wednesday's alley (even she says it.)

For Xavier and Wednesday to work for me they’ll have to make Xavier more interesting and lean more into Wednesday’s vibe. With Edin and Wednesday, they’re opposites attract and with Tyler and Wednesday they’re two sides of the same coin. To me, Xavier is just somewhere in the middle and has the most boring dynamic out of the three of them.

I’ve seen a lot of people online refer to Xavier and Wednesday as sunshinexmidnightrain or goldenretrieverxblackcat but I’m sorry they’re simply not.

Xavier is not sunshine. He is the tortured artist with daddy issues. He is constantly complaining or jealous, he gets worked up easily and spends the majority of his time painting monsters in a shed. How is that sunshine?

Edin is sunshine. She is always smiling and full of energy, she is social and tries to look on the positive side of every situation. We do see Edin get upset or mad during the show but it takes a lot to get her to reach her breaking point. If the writers are going for sunshinexmidnightrain for Wednesday's love interest they’re looking at the wrong character.

Speaking of Xavier's constant sulking that is something else I really dislike about him.

There's one scene during the dance that really gets to me. When everyone is dancing and having a good time before it cuts to Xavier and Bianca. Bianca is dancing a little in her seat and smiling, still obviously at least trying to have a good time while Xavier is sitting next to her angry that Wednesday came to the dance without someone else and then has the nerve to ask Bianca to erase his feelings for Wednesday.

That was the scene that put me off Xavier completely and despite the fact that he did apologise it was just such a dick move to make and I especially felt bad for Bianca in that scene.

Another thing that annoyed me was him always bringing up the fact that he saved Wednesday’s life at the beginning of the season and acting almost as if she was in debt to him because of this. Wednesday made it clear that she is not thankful so I don't know why he kept pushing it.

( I feel like someone will bring up Tyler telling Wednesday that she owed him a date because he nearly got killed to which I will again remind everyone that Tyler is the villain and needed to distract Wednesday so again, the context is different)

(I am also realising how hard it is to compare two men's actions when one of them has been genuine the entire time and nobody knows if the other was genuine at all)

Now I’m sure this may seem hypocritical calling Xavier a dick for the way he acted while Tyler is the full-on villain of the show but to me, there is a big difference between a good person and a good character and a lot of that relies on how the audience is supposed to view them.

Tyler is not a good person (if he’s fully aware of everything that he’s done and doesn’t care. With Tyler, there is the tricky subject of the fact that he was also manipulated and groomed to become what he was) but he is a good character. He’s the villain, we’re not supposed to condone his actions, similar to Wednesday and her actions. Both of them are not painted to be your typical good guys but Xavier is.

Xavier isn’t the only character like this, Edin and Ajax I will also say are supposed to be seen in a good light. Not only by the viewers but by the other characters.

Also, Wednesday is a show where little moments like that between Xavier and Bianca are bigger tells of character than murder. A character could murder someone in the show and I wouldn’t care but smaller things between characters who are supposed to be seen as good I take note of.

I don't know if that last part made sense but in my head, it does so sorry if it's just gibberish.

In conclusion, Xavier just doesn't have anything going on for him that other characters can’t so better and in a more fun way. I can see the writers going with Xavier and Wednesday as endgame but I really hope they don’t consider the number of possibilities they have with other characters.

Jenna Ortega said that she would want them to have more of a siblings relationship and I can really see that happening in the next season, considering they’re about to take some time away from each other and Wednesday never confirmed any feelings for him the writers could make his crush on her fade over time and have them become really good friends.

I can see myself liking Xavier in future seasons but they have to give him a proper arc that's unique to his character, rather than a tortured artist with daddy issues who has a crush on the new girl.

idk if anyone will both to read all of that but if you did congrats and thank you

#wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday x xavier #xavier thorpe #wednesday x tyler #tyler galpin #the addams family #edin sinclair

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