#clap three times if you're familiar with all three & their stories

[cyroverr]

So anyways, I may have a thing for blue female characters in video games who gutpunches me with a shocking twist that'll ultimately humanize them.

[eroselless]

────────────── sommer house // 1

series summary: After starting a new job at a prestigious museum in London, you form a close friendship with Helaena Targaryen. You're surprised when she invites you to stay at her family's estate for the summer holidays. [1.7k]

[aegon targaryen x reader, modern!HOTD AU ]

masterlist

warnings: talk and description of bugs. if there's any I missed, let me know!

note: hello friends! I’m sure some of you might be a little confused seeing this coming up again. after much contemplating and many many re-reads, I decided I would rewrite what I had of moth to a flame now that I had more inspiration and motivation. for this first chapter, it’s not much different from my first draft but I removed and added a few things that I thought made the story begin flowing a lot better. thank you for the support and happy reading <3

Dashing through the rain, your coat pulled tightly around you, you navigate the bustling streets of London. The sky opened up as you were leaving the train station, drenching you instantly. You’re breathless when you reach the entrance of the museum, soaked to the bone with hair sticking to your forehead. Pausing briefly under the awning, you try to catch your breath, shaking off as much rain as you could before hurrying inside, the patter of rainfall fading behind you. 

The familiar warmth and silence of the museum envelop you, offering a stark contrast to the chaotic weather outside. The lights are dim and if you listen closely, you could swear you can hear soft music permeating the air. 

You make your way to the back of the museum, passing through employee doors and to the entomology department, where you knew Helaena would be waiting. Rounding a corner, you see you. She stands at the entrance of your shared office, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. She leans against the doorframe, her free hand fiddling with the key card that hangs around her neck. It’s 5 past 9, you're not that late and her casual demeanour only makes for a comforting sight.

“Rough morning?” she asks, a grin on her lips as she entends the cup of coffee towards you. 

“Don’t even get me started,” you reply, taking the cup and making your way past her into the room. “The tube was a nightmare. Some sort of signal failure. I’m surprised I made it at all.”

Helaena laughs, “You wouldn’t have to deal with the tube if you drove,” she teases, raising her eyebrows. Following you to your desk, she stands in front as you set your things down. You roll your eyes at her, making a face, to which she responds with a half-smirk.

You met Helaena three months ago when you first started working at the museum. After a seemingly endless job search, you happened upon one that just happened to be in a country halfway across the world. Seeing as how you fit all of the requirements, you pushed fear aside, taking a leap. You packed up what you could and made your way to London. The idea of working in another country had always captivated you, but the reality of moving hadn’t fully sunk in until you stepped off the plane. Everything felt surreal—the accents, the bustling streets, the historical buildings whispering stories of the past.

Working in the entomology department with Helaena, you spent countless hours cataloging and preserving the museum’s vast insect collection. The late nights became routine, often the two of you working late into the night, at times at each other's homes. Her companionship made the hours more bearable. Helaena quickly became more than just a colleague; she became a friend, someone you could rely on and share with. 

Clapping her hands, a wide smile now on her face, Helaena turns to you from a large cluster of boxes: "Well, you're here now, and just in time; we've got a ton to do today."

Settling into your desks, surrounded by cabinets filled with specimens and shelves lined with books and equipment, the morning passes quickly.

You take turns pulling out cases from the large boxes, a new shipment from South America, examining and cataloging each specimen. Each one is carefully inspected, labeled and documented. The vibrant colors and intricate patterns never cease to amaze you, each telling a different tale. 

As the afternoon rolls around, you find yourself leading a group of young school children through an interactive exhibit, one you spent the last week preparing with Helaena, explaining the life cycles of different insects and answering their curious questions. Their eyes widen as you show them the cases of insects, pointing out each of their intricate and unique features. Together, you carefully examine drawers of pinned needles, getting lost in the details of their iridescent shells.

The children nod as you explain different insects, jotting down notes in their small notebooks to bring back to school. Their laughter and curiosity makes the rest of the day pass quickly, their enthusiasm making even the most mundane tasks feel rewarding. 

The day winds down from there, the absence of the children making you realize how tired you’d gotten. You put the exhibits back into their boxes, making sure everything is in its place for the groups coming in tomorrow and the day after that. From the corner of your eye you can see Helaena making her way to you, rolling a cart identical to yours. There’s a thoughtful expression on her face. 

"So, any plans for the summer holidays? They're not gonna need us at all during these renovations they're doing," she inquired, pursing her lips at you.

You shake your head as you continue placing boxes onto your cart. “I would but I can’t afford to go home right now. I’ll probably just stay in London and explore the city or something.”

Helaena’s face lights up. “Why don’t you come with me to my family’s country estate? We’re having a big party for my dad’s retirement. It’ll be a nice change of pace and you can officially meet my family. They’ll adore you.”

Your lips part as you stare at her wordlessly. “Are you sure?” you asked, searching her eyes, 

Helaena waves you off, “Of course!” she exclaims, shaking her head. “"It'll be fun. Besides, it would be nice to have another girl there so I don’t have to deal with my brothers all on my own. Say you’ll come," she pleads.

The thought of spending the holidays with Helaena, surrounded by the English countryside and her family’s hospitality, race through your mind. It sent a shiver of nerves through you. You knew very little about her family, only hearing of her brothers in passing. You’d seen them in pictures she had littered around her apartment and on her facebook. You met her mother, if you can call speaking to her briefly over the phone, one night that you spent the night at Helaena’s. Her older sister and her father were a complete mystery to you, both of them a subject she didn’t ever really talk about. 

She bats her eyes at you, gently wrapping her arms around yours. You let out a sigh, breaking out in a smile. “Alright, I’ll come.” you laugh, and she throws her arms around your shoulders. 

:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It's a few days later you find yourself tossing clothes at Helaena. The afternoon sunlight streams through the window behind her. Her hair is loose, falling in soft waves over her shoulders. It looks as if it were glowing. She sits on your bed, gingerly folding different shirts and pants into your bag. Rejected piles of clothes are strewn across your bed, shoes littering the floor and small packing cubes full of toiletries and makeup sit next to your gradually filling case. 

“What about this?” you ask. Swaying slightly, you hold a dress up to your chest. It’s red and covered in polka dots with a large white bow cinching the middle. Her face stays in a slight grimace, shaking her head and laughing.

"We need to get you some new dresses; these look like they belong in a history museum," she says with a playful smile. You laugh, shoving her shoulder as you tuck the dress back into the wardrobe. She pulls a knitted sweater from the edge of your bed and tucks it tightly into your bag.

Once your outfits are sufficiently coordinated and your essentials pulled into packing cubes, Helaena helps you pack them into your suitcase, ensuring you have enough of everything you need for your stay. She speaks up when you struggle with the zipper. 

“So, I know you’ve sort of met Mum and you’ll be meeting everyone else while we're there.  My sister is even coming with her children. A fair warning, though having everyone there can be a bit … intense but they’re good people.”

You note her hesitation. “Intense how?”

Helana shrugs, trying to downplay her words. “It can get a little overwhelming, is all. But you’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

You nod an ok at her, climbing on and bouncing on your suitcase to press it shut with your knees. She joins you, twisting with you as you begin to pull on the zipper. 

"The place’s been in my family for generations. There’s lots of history there, places you could get lost in. You’ll really love it.”

You struggle for a little bit, pulling the zip a little more to fully close the case before sitting on it, breathless. 

"What was it like, growing up in a place like that?" you ask, looking up at her as she takes her spot back on the edge of your bed. 

Helaena smiles, a distant look in her eyes. It's a smile that has a drop of sadness behind it. "It was magical. There are all these secret passages and hidden rooms. We used to play hide and seek for hours.” 

She traces a pattern on your quilt as she continues speaking. “We each got puppies at some point and when we’d pretend we were princes and princesses, my brothers would pretend they were dragons.” 

There's a bittersweet expression on her face as she recounts the memory. It's not an expression you're used to seeing on her face but it’s one she seems to fall back to every time she speaks of home. You can’t help but to be curious about it but you always stop before prying or saying anything. You smile, reaching out a hand and placing it on her knee. It pulls her out of her momentary daze and she flashes a smile at you. A mixture of nerves and anticipation fill you again. "I can’t wait," you say with a soft sigh.

Helaena looks at you, her eyes sparkling. "You're going to love it. It’s like stepping back in time. Just be prepared for a bit of drama; there’s always something happening when we're all together."

"Drama?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you know, family stuff. Arguments, misunderstandings, that sort of thing. But it’s all part of the charm," she says with a wink.

You laugh, feeling a bit more at ease. "Well, I’m ready for anything."

With the suitcase finally zipped, you both collapse onto the bed, giggling. Helaena turns to you, her expression softening. "I’m really glad you’re coming. It’s going to be a summer to remember."

If you want to support my writing you can buy me a coffee over on Ko-Fi <3

[bookmaker-untaken]

you're ugly, you're disgusting - give me 200 horses

Suo Hayato x Reader // Mythology AU

Summary: To marry you, a suitor must beat you in hand-to-hand combat. Or do whatever the fuck Suo did instead.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, OOC!Suo, Probably (Look, I Tried), Misogyny

Word Count: 1, 953

i. 

Contrary to popular belief whispered throughout the steppe, you do not hate men.

But, by god, are they a stupid bunch.

There is this story your Father liked to tell after a few drinks, of you, as a toddler, gripping a snake by the throat and happily slamming him into the ground, repeatedly.

So why are men always surprised when they end up in the same spot?

Your most recent challenger groans from the ground, dust settling around him. 

"Three...two...one!"

The fight master holds up your hand once more and you grin. 

Behind you, there is familiar laughter and clapping, your Father waving you back to the cushioned seat near him. 

"That's my daughter! A force to be reckoned with!" 

He claps a hand on your back and shakes you a little and you smirk.

The man with the eyepatch and expensive clothes lowers his cup of honey wine, a tranquil smile adoring his features. "Your fighting technique is quite impressive."

You look over at him, up then down. His robes make it hard to tell what kind of stature he has, hard to tell what kind of fighter he might be. 

"Most men still challenge me afterwards. I hardly receive compliments."

"Fight you?" He laughs, and the small jewel attached to the eyepatch quivers. "I would most certainly lose."

You give him a look out of the side of your face. Somehow, you know he's bluffing. He might put up a good fight at the very least, and that in itself would be a miracle. 

"You are wise, Suo! My daughter is well versed in combat!" 

You watch this Suo for his reaction. He shows you nothing, taking another sip of wine.

"You see, my daughter has one rule for suitors! They must beat her in hand-to-hand combat!"

"Oh?" He says, sounding genuinely interested. This, too, is rare.  "And what happens when they lose, as that man did?"

"They owe me a horse." You say, chin raised, daring him to speak ill of your methods as many often do.

"Huh." He says. "How many horses do you have?" 

"1,000." You say, smirk curving on the corner of your lips.

"Wow," He says, sounding genuinely impressed. "That is quite amazing!" 

"And a hassle! We hardly have room for them all," Your Father laughs.

 

ii.

The arrow sings through the breeze, hitting its perfect mark.

You're almost boring to watch with your accuracy and skill. 

The Merchant speaks to your Father under a richly colored tarp.

"You must forgive my daughter," You hear when you go to pick up more arrows. "She worries for me." 

"It's cute," Suo replies. 

Your face wrinkles in confusion and he laughs. 

"Don't let my daughter hear you say that," Your Father leans over, whispering conspiratorially. "She might bite your head off." 

"Right," You say loudly, another arrow piercing the bullseye. "Like that would be the optimal way of killing someone."

The smile on Suo's face remains, despite your dark joke.

iii.

The other girl scoffs and storms away, leaving your handmaiden and best friend Líu.

"What happened?"

Liú gives you a one armed shrug, putting another cloth into the basket at her hip. "Well, I told her I had my first time with my husband the other day,"

Your eyes widen. “How … how was it?”

“Somewhat underwhelming,”  Líu admits. “I think she was expecting more of a story?"                                                                                                              

You had the heard stories girls gossiped in the night. Sometimes horrifying, sometimes filthy, seldom in between.You supposed you had been wondering, even if you never asked.

"Don't get me wrong, I love my husband but ... it was just fine."

"'Just fine', huh.” You laugh, eyes crinkling. “So I suppose there really is no reason to stop throwing them into the dirt, then?”

Liú laughs. "I suppose not. But getting married wouldn't be the end of the world, either. Whichever you choose, I know it'll be true to you.”

"You have a lot of faith in me.” You say, puffing your chest.

“Of course!” 

iv.

Another day, another victory. 

The man hits the dust and you're already turning around to walk away, not seeing him scramble to grab a saucer from a plate and fling it at you.

But you do see the hand cast out before you, blocking your vision.

"Come now," Says Suo, smile taking an odd sort of edge. "There's no need to be a sore loser!" 

"You have good reflexes, Merchant," You say.

"Thank you!" Suo drops the saucer into your outstretched hand. 

"Though, you absolutely stole my thunder." 

"Sorry," He says, scratching his cheek. "My hand moved on my own."

"You're going to have to make it up to me," You say, still smirking. "Tomorrow. Archery grounds." 

v.

Suo is just as much of a challenge as you had predicted. 

You often tie. 

You await his return to visit your Father and give him a new challenge each time.

He's fantastic with a polearm, but often lets go of the arrow too early.

Your horses adore him, even the most stubborn old girls allowing him to feed them carrots. 

He tells you stories of his travels, and in exchange you regale him with your exploits.

vi.

"Your next challenger..." Your Mother says. "He's a good man."

"They often are?" You say with a quirk of the brow. You feel the trap closing in on you, even if you do not know what it is for. 

She sighs, seeing that such a method would not work on you. "I want you to throw the match."

"What?!"

You look to your Father, who says nothing. 

Your Mother continues. "He comes from a good family and - "

"What of our honor!" 

"This is honorable!"

You look again to your Father, who simply shrugs. "It is your decision in the end. I trust our judgment." 

You stand in front of the man considering the conversation from earlier.

“100 Horses.” He is saying. “I bet I could beat you.”

“The men before you said the same.”

He spits. “The men before me were nothing.”

You do not throw the match. 

vii.

On a later visit, you and Suo are returning from a hunt, when you tell that story.

You wait for his reply.

"Hm. Good."

You're surprised. 

"Hmm?”

"I just thought you would have taken more of a ... business minded approach?" 

"I think it was merciful," He said. "Any fighter worth their salt would have been able to tell if you threw a fight."

"Have you ever thrown a fight?" You ask. "Is that how you lost your eye?"

"Nothing nearly as interesting as that," He says smoothly. 

"Aww," You smirk.

"Is there an interesting reason you started fighting your suitors?"

"Because I have to," You say automatically, then seal your lips. It dawns on you that nobody has asked you that question before. "Well..."

You look up into the sky as you think. He doesn't need an answer, you know. And he doesn't deserve an explanation. But you've already started thinking. On one hand, it's instinctual - you cannot help but not go down easily. 

"My grandmother ... was taken from her home by a foreign prince, my grandfather. And on her deathbed, she longed for it."

Suo is silent, waiting. He watches you intently. 

"She made me promise as a little girl for that never to be my fate. To never let any man possess me. "

Suo looks at you for a long time. "I cannot claim to completely understand, but I do empathize." 

You make a sound in response.

“Though. It is a lot of weight to put on a child.” 

viii.

"So," Liú says. "Is there something going on with you and that Merchant?" 

You stop cleaning your sword for a second to look up at her, "You mean something other than friendly competition?"

"There are rumors,"

"You know how I feel about rumors." 

"I do!” She say, plopping down next to you. “Which is why I came to you instead,"

"Suo is great competition. More than the likes I've ever seen before."

"And that's it?" 

You pause. "Should there be more?"

"No," Liu says with a loose shrug. "There doesn't have to be." 

ix.

It's a sharp second, like a pinprick - attacks you suddenly like a bird of prey..

The sunlight hits Suo's hair just right and it's like it glows. 

A terror grips you by the back of the neck. 

You shove the feeling away and decide to deal with it another time. 

x.

And then the rumors start. 

The rumors that the reason your so object to marriage is that you are in a secret relationship with your Father.

You balk. It's ridiculous! Why would anybody believe such a thing! 

Your surprised when your Father calls you to his tent, full of onlookers.

"You must get married." 

You laugh. "You're going to let some silly rumor decide for you!? You might as well let it run your court as well!"

"No," He says. "I've let this charade go on for far too long. It's not fit for a young woman to remain unmarried like this."

"You're joking."

His face is unmoving. You realize he is not relenting. 

"Father. Father! You can't just offer my hand to some stranger! ... Please!"

He closes his eyes. "One year. You have one year to choose."

xi.

When Suo returns, he cannot find you. 

"She rides every day," Your Father tells him. "From dawn till dusk." 

When you return, you give him a smirk that doesn't meet your eyes. 

"What happened?"

You start to tell him, the emotions swimming in your eyes, but instead say, "Ride with me."

The moon illuminates your shadows.

You approach a shimmering lake, looking at its surface. "My father wishes for me to get married."

"Ah." 

"I -" You are crying. The tears that squeeze out of your eyes are of desperation. "I know of none who would wish to marry me of their own accord, so I am to be promised to a stranger."

Suo is silent.

"I have fought my whole life for my freedom and now I will be remembered for my failure!"

"You didn't fail." 

You look at him, crystalline tears still falling.

"You never lost." 

"But I did!" You say. "Because I fell for somebody!"

"Falling in love is not losing," He says. "And knowing you, knowing the decisions you make - the person you fell for would probably never have you give up on yourself. If they do, it isn't love."

"You don't understand!” You snap, fists forming at your side.”I do not know if I'll ever be able to love them like anyone else! I respect them! But what if it is not love? What if it is all I am capable of? You do not wish a life with me!"

"That is not for you to decide," Suo says, then after a moment, “Fight me.”

“What?”

“A King once told me that fighting is a conversation of one’s souls. You have something to tell me, don’t you? Fight me.”

You begin to walk from behind your horse. “You have to be serious.”

He nods. “I will.”

“Even if you think you can’t win.”

He begins to stand in a fighting position. “I’ll try.” 

You shift into your fighting position. "Then come!" 

The two of you lunge at each other. He’s faster than you are, and reflects most of your attacks, but when you finally manage to grapple him he hits the ground hard. The two of you dance along the moonlit shore to a rhythm nobody else will ever hear.

The two of you fall to the ground at the same time, panting and sweating. 

You laugh.

[aoioozora]

Mending Promises

Content: Keegan x F! Reader, Band AU, Civilian AU, second chances, exes to lovers, angst and fluff, happy ending Note: This idea has been marinating in my head for months now. I've never written an exes to lovers story before and I think I did quite well for my first attempt. Put my heart and soul into writing it. Enjoy :) [also why does K look so "🥺" in the gif]

The little puddles of rainwater on the cobbled streets squelched and splashed as you stepped over them. The dark night was clear and damp, filling the air with the light scent of petrichor, sizzling meats, and smoke which rose over the buildings and traffic into an incoherent yet delightful mixture. Flickering lamps passed by you as you walked, the puddles reflecting them.

Genevieve's. That was the place you stopped in front of. The red neon sign flickered and buzzed faintly as you pushed the worn bronze metal handle on the equally worn wooden door and stepped inside the establishment.

You were greeted by faint chatter of the dingy restaurant's patrons, all shrouded in dim darkness in contrast to the band up on the podium bathed in the yellow spotlight as they set up their mics on the stands and adjusted the drums. The lead singer stood out with the bright red Fender electric guitar hanging in front of him by the strap as he plugged the wire in. He raised his head for a moment, sweeping away his sweat-glistening black locks out of his eyes to scour through the dimly lit room as if in search of someone.

You felt an annoying tingle in your stomach as his eyes swept past you, unsure whether or not you were spotted by him. You sat at a table nearest to the door, just in case you wanted to run away from the performance midway. You took out your phone and opened a chat screen.

Keegan: I hope it isn't too much to ask you to see our performance. We may have fallen out, but your support is important to me.

And attached below was a digital flyer of the said performance that you were currently attending. It was sent a week ago, and you left him on read, one of the many messages and concert invitations you didn't want to reply to and didn't attend. Your eyes lingered on the second line of the message, and every single time you read it, it wrenched your heart and made your eyes burn with tears. And it did again as you raised your head to look at him, blinking your eyes rapidly.

Keegan's eyes softened with disappointment. There was nobody in this world he would play for if not you, and not seeing you there didn't make him standing in front of this small, faceless crowd worth it. Regardless, the little concert began.

He tapped the mic twice. "Testing, one, two, three," he spoke softly, and then began, "Good evening everyone, we're The Ghosts. We'll be singing our original songs and a few covers tonight. Enjoy."

The patrons in the restaurant gave the band their attention as he and his fellow bandmate, the lead guitarist, Logan, began to sing their indie rock song Claustrophobic together. Keegan's low, gruff, rumbling voice was singled out by you, and it was all you could hear.

The world's caving in without you, I can't breathe, I can't breathe.

You realised that this was one of their newest singles, as you hadn't heard it before. Resting your elbow on the table in front of you, your eye could see nobody but Keegan. You hated it, but you couldn't resist. Him standing in front of a small audience, head bent slightly over his red Fender, his black clothes, the lights shining over his glossy black hair, his foot tapping to keep time, it was all a familiar sight, but a distant one that you could only look at with sorrow.

Your reverie was interrupted by soft clapping from the audience as they ended their song. You felt a small hint of happiness that they were getting good reception. Even if you associated bad memories with their music, it was still good music. They began their next song, Penguins.

My love, you're all I see; I'll give you a rock When I get down on one knee, And forever in wedlock We will be.

A tight lump rose in your throat as you heard him sing those words from your favourite song. He'd croon the words in your ears at night to lull you to sleep in his arms, promising a future of togetherness, mates for life, just like penguins.

Only for it to all come crashing down.

A tear slipped down your cheek as you watched him sing the upbeat yet poignant song; his voice was full of emotion. He sang like he meant it, just like back then. The suppressed memories came flooding back to you as you stared at the floor with a distant gaze, of dancing with him in the living room, hearing his various renditions of the same song, even pretending to get down on one knee to make you giggle incessantly. But most of all, it was the look of utter adoration and awe in his normally dull steel blue eyes that sparkled like stars when he looked at you, like you were a goddess to him.

Why did it have to go all wrong?

You wiped away the stream of tears from your eyes and your cheeks, dabbing them with a handkerchief as you vainly sighed to get rid of the tightness in your chest.

And why, despite the months, did you feel like your love for him never diminished?

You listened to the next few songs distractedly. You couldn't help but wonder about the songs he chose; out of all the ones in their entire discography, he specifically chose the ones you loved, the songs that were most cherished, and held the most memories.

Your eyes fell upon the vacant ring finger of your right hand. There was a subtle indentation around the base of it, where a ring used to sit day in and day out. When you broke up with him, you took off that promise ring and threw it to the ground in front of him, and now your ring finger was forlorn, throbbing with a dull ache at the unpleasant memory you wished to banish from your thoughts.

"The last song for tonight is not our song, but our cover of Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys, which is our personal favourite. Enjoy."

His gruff voice pierced through the noisy recesses of your mind, bringing you back to the present. Was it the last song already? Time sure did fly when one was deep in thought.

And it was no unfamiliar song either. It was one you loved dearly.

The drums beat in time with your heart, and the famous riff of the guitar stunned the air into silence, leaving you to hear your pulsating heartbeat in your ears, reminding you why you loved this song so much. You heard him inhale, you saw him raise his eyes to scan the faceless crowd, and in his characteristic deep gruffness, he exhaled out his song,

Have you got colour in your cheeks?

You did now.

Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the type That sticks around like summat in your teeth? Are there some aces up your sleeve? Have you no idea that you're in deep? His eyes looked searchingly, almost desperately around the room of the restaurant as he sang, I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week How many secrets can you keep? 'Cause there's this tune I found That makes me think of you somehow an' I play it on repeat Until I fall asleep, spillin' drinks on my settee

Almost as if he wanted you to know what he felt.

His fellow bandmate and guitarist, Logan, provided the backing vocals,

Do I wanna know?

And Keegan followed, still looking around,

If this feelin' flows both ways? Sad to see you go Was sorta hoping that you'd stay Baby, we both know That the nights were mainly made For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day

He took another deep breath, his fingers switching chords as quickly as his voice switched from sadness to desperation.

Crawling back to you

The guitar groaned over the amplifiers, filling you with a sense of anguish, like a rag being twisted. The rhythmic drumbeats forced the vision of Keegan approaching you in a slow, steady march, wanting, begging, groweling at your feet to play about in your mind's eye.

Ever thought of callin' when You've had a few? 'Cause I always do

Maybe I'm too Busy bein' yours To fall for somebody new Now I've thought it through Crawling back to you.

Those words hit you like a sack of bricks; they, along with the previous songs, only reinforced the fact that he still wanted you despite the falling away. A lump rose in your throat again.

He wanted you back, and so did you.

So have you got the guts?

He paused, allowing the drums to dictate the length of the silence for the space of four beats. He looked about searchingly again, trying to find you in the faceless crowd. In the dim, flickering light of an old jukebox next to your table, he spotted you. You raised your eyes and met his. A volcano of butterflies erupted in your stomach.

His eyes held yours fast as he sang,

Been wonderin' if your heart's still open And if so, I wanna know what time it shuts

He paused again for a quarter of a beat to let that sink in.

Simmer down an' pucker up, I'm sorry to interrupt

Those same pair of eyes narrowed slightly, momentarily averting his gaze towards his guitar, as if guiltily admitting, It's just I'm constantly on the cusp of tryin' to kiss you But I don't know if you feel the same as I do

He raised his head to meet your eyes again, a glint of hope evident in them despite the distance, But we could be together if you wanted to.

And there was the invitation.

You couldn't bear to stay there any longer. As he sang the bridge and the chorus, you stood up and hastily stepped out of the establishment, rubbing a stray tear off your cheek. Keegan saw it all. His chest seized. He nearly rose to his heels in readiness to run after you midway but he stopped himself, interpreting your departure as the rejection. But the tear he saw you wipe away; did he manage to get through your heart?

As soon as you were out of doors, you were hit by the rain. A fervent wind blew, splattering the heavy drops against you and the shade above your head that you took shelter under. No umbrella; the rain dead-ended you from leaving, and so you waited, holding yourself in your arms to keep warm, refusing to go back inside as his singing permeated the walls, tormenting you even over the noisy rain and howling wind.

The performance ended and the diners went back to chattering away while The Ghosts began to dismantle their equipment. While Keegan solemnly pulled off the strap of his guitar, his drummer, Hesh walked over to him.

"Did she come?" he asked in a whisper as he held Keegan by the shoulder.

"Saw her leave just now,"

Logan also joined in on the conversation as he unplugged the wire from his guitar. "And?" he asked, very obviously expecting something more.

"And what?"

"And are you just going to let her leave after this whole concert we planned just for her?" Logan rolled his eyes exasperatedly as he lectured Keegan, "Go and talk to her!"

Hesh turned to the windows of the establishment and saw the rain beating against the panes. He nudged Keegan. "It's raining pretty hard out there. She must not have left yet. Run!"

Keegan wasted no time in hurrying down the little podium, his heavy steps thudding against the hollow wood. He snatched his jacket and with quick, hasty steps and a rising hope in his chest, he opened the door, stepped out, and looked beside the door.

But you weren't there.

His shoulders sagged, his hand slipped from the worn door handle and fell to his side with disappointment. He was about to turn back inside when the sound of a quiet crunch of gravel under a boot on the asphalt not too far from him stopped him in his tracks. In the dim red light of the neon sign, he had to squint to see the shivering elbow sticking out from behind the wall. He inched closer and peeked into the narrow, dark alley, only to find what- or rather- who he was looking for.

You looked up when he poked his head in and felt your heart stop when you recognized who you were looking at. Both of your eyes widened.

"Wha- What are you doing here?" Keegan blurted, surprised but pleased to see you still around.

"You wanted me to come to your concert?" you said, raising a brow at him as you continued to shiver from the wind and rain.

"I mean, yeah, but..." he paused to take off his thickly lined leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders, "you're out here... in the cold. You could've just stayed inside."

You didn't object to his assistance and he had to hide the surprise from displaying on his face. While you thought of what to say, he nudged you aside with his shoulder, away from the elements and stood next to you by the wall to shield you. He waited in silence for an answer, but to no avail.

"I didn't think you'd come... especially after you left me on read," he began quietly, in a tone that carried no resentment, but sadness. He leaned against the wall and propping his foot up behind him as he crossed his arms.

You let out a sigh as you sunk your face into the fleece-lined collar of the jacket, taking in the familiar scent and feeling the familiar texture of leather and fleece against your arms and your cheeks. He'd always lend you his favourite jacket.

"I didn't want to come here, but I did anyway," you replied.

"You didn't have to force yourself." He shrugged and turned his head away from you to watch the rain pattering noisily on the sidewalk.

"I didn't. I was... kinda drawn here."

Drawn here, he thought, feeling a flutter. "What drew you here?"

A pause. "You."

His jaw laxed and his fingers twitched. His crossed arms loosened and his arm fell to his side, letting his knuckles lightly brush against yours. The brief contact sent a shock blitzing through your fingers, stiffening your hand for a moment. You inhaled sharply, feeling a vortex churning in your stomach; you didn't know you missed and craved his touch so much.

"It means a lot to me that you came," he whispered, letting his hand linger next to yours.

"Why?" A tremor shook your voice. He grimaced.

"I..." he exhaled, "I know I was an asshole to you. I put my band before you and neglected you. I made you sad..." he sighed, his features wincing, "to the point that you left. And I don't blame you for it."

Your throat tightened and burned like a fiery noose had been tied around it. Your thoughts took you back to the past months, remembering how the two of you argued over his preference to spend time making music with Hesh and Logan. Every day was an uphill battle, fighting a tight competition with his band, until you were spread way too thin that you snapped. He was furious when you left, but didn't stop you, calling it a "good riddance", words which left a deep scar that refused to heal.

He continued, "When I told Hesh and Logan you left and explained to them why, they were pissed. Logan was ready to throw hands at me. I was confused until Logan sat me down and told me that nobody and nothing comes before your partner." He shook his head, sighing again. "It was so obvious, but I missed it. I was so stupid!"

He paused his speech for a brief moment to let you have a say. Knowing that you needed time to let his words settle in, he pushed back against his impatience and stayed silent.

You knew Hesh and Logan only a little, but you didn't expect them to stick up for you and scold Keegan about his behaviour. And you had harboured such a boiling resentment for them too. That feeling now started to simmer down into shame and regret.

When he saw that you weren't saying anything, he decided to continue.

"I missed you," he confessed, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. "I hoped and prayed you'd come today and you came. You've never come to any of our little concerts after our breakup except for this one. Can I take this as a sign that…" he drew in a shaky breath, "can I be bold and assume that you miss me too?"

The metaphorical noose tightened around your neck, forcing tears to brim over your waterline. You choked out the words, "You have the audacity to miss me especially after saying "good riddance" when I broke up with you."

Keegan drew in a sharp breath as his brows furrowed. "I was stupid to say those words to you, stupid and blind. I didn't value you enough. I can't believe it had to take me Logan and Hesh to drill into my head the weight of what I had thrown away."

You heard the regret in his voice, but it didn't yet move you. A sob choked your throat. "I loved your music, Keegan, but when you started to love your band more, I hated it. I hated your band, you, your guitar, Hesh, Logan, and your songs… I hated it all."

Keegan felt his heart squeeze painfully at your sobs and complaints. He had no right to blame you for it. "I understand…" he spoke, letting out a slow exhale over the howling wind, "I know that me giving more attention to my band has given you a sour taste in your mouth for my music," his fingers brushed against yours and wrapped around your hand gently, "but this concert was just for you. I sang all your favourite songs tonight…" he gave your hand a squeeze, "because I love you."

You felt your heart skip a beat.

"I wrote those songs for you, I sing them for you…" his thumb gently rubbed against the back of your hand, "Even after you left, I couldn't stop thinking of you. I couldn't stop loving you."

He paused, giving you a chance to speak. In the brief silence, he noticed how you haven't pulled your hand out of his very gentle grasp when you easily could. He held on to this ray of hope that you were receptive to his words, though understandably hesitant.

"I know a lot of guys go back to their exes and beg them for another chance, but you know me, I've never done that to my exes. You're the only one I've come back to, and that's only because I genuinely feel like we're connected somehow… I can't explain it."

You understood what he meant. You felt the same way too. You weren't the type to look back once you ended a relationship, but when it came to Keegan, he never left your thoughts, which was why you remained rooted in place, letting him hold your hand.

"I want you back, ____," he finally said, "I'm sorry for not valuing you like I should have. This entire concert was my apology for you. I know this is too much to ask for. I know I've broken your trust and hurt you, but I want to correct that mistake and make amends." He paused, "Once chance is all I need. I'll do whatever it takes."

You sniffled, feeling the first tear roll down your cheek, your body trembling as you frantically tried to wipe the stream away. Keegan's heart wrenched at the sight; he took a bold step in wrapping you in his arms and bringing you against his chest. He breathed heavily, wondering if you would push him away, but to his surprise, you leaned into his embrace.

"Why was it a good riddance when I left?" you squeaked out against his chest.

His chest twinged painfully when you brought it up again, now understanding how deeply those words had hurt you. "I was crazy," he said, chastising himself, "I was stupid and blinded by my anger. I thought you didn't understand my love for music and my band, but I was the one who didn't understand what you needed. It never was a good riddance, darling. I missed you every second you were not in my life." He squeezed you gently, both to comfort you, and for him to cling to you.

Your sobs grew louder; you were both pained and relieved at the same time.

"You're an angel… and I don't deserve you," he murmured, feeling a sob choke his own throat, "I know I'm being selfish but I love you… I want you back."

You let out a weary groan as you leaned further against him. His arms instinctively tightened around you.

"I'm sorry…" you said, raising your hands a little to clutch his t-shirt, "For throwing the ring at you that day."

He hugged you tighter. "I forgive you," he whispered immediately, feeling lighter and relieved that you apologised for your own crime, one that had hurt him.

You squeezed him, and he soothingly rubbed his hand against your back, enjoying the warmth that he missed dearly. But he pulled away slightly and shoved his hand in his pocket, bringing out a small, silver ring.

Your eyes widened slightly. It was the promise ring he had given you. You looked at him, eyes welling with tears again. "You still have it," you murmured shakily.

He looked at the dainty piece of jewelry and sighed, smiling a hint. "I was so mad at you that day that I threw it in the trash, but when I calmed down, I dug it back out and cleaned it up. I kept it because it reminded me of you…" his voice trailed off and then gingerly extended his hand out to you.

You placed your hand in his gently. At the contact, his body flushed with warmth.

With a shaky breath and voice, he said, looping the ring through your ring finger, as tears slipped down his cheeks, "I promise I'll love you more than anything in this world, even myself."

You sniffled and sobbed as you saw the ring fit right in the indentation on your finger like two jigsaw puzzle pieces fit together, the familiar sight of it sending waves of warmth in your heart. Keegan watched your emotional reaction, and he pulled you in his arms again to comfort you.

"I love you, ____. I'll make it up to you a hundred times over..." he stroked your hair softly, voice brimming over with determination and affection.

You buried your face in his chest, his words wrenching more tears out of your eyes. "Do you promise?"

"Wholeheartedly, I promise."

---

More Keegan:

Attracted

Cat Got Your Tongue

---

Masterlist

[libraryofgage]

PJO Steddie Five

One | Two | Three | Four

Here it is! We learn El's parent in this one, and there's a wonderfully healthy dose of Steddie throughout the whole part.

There's a meme on this one, too lol

If you see any typos, no you didn't ^_^

-----

It should not have taken five days to drive from Athens, Tennessee, to Camp Half-Blood in Long Island. Eddie wouldn't be surprised if Chrissy and his bandmates thought he'd died some horrible death while on this retrieval. But Eddie would love to meet the person who can tell Steve and a gaggle of demigod children to hurry up and get to camp already. They spent two days at Hearth and Home just for the pool, and various stops along the way followed that same pattern.

It was, in all honesty, the most relaxed retrieval mission Eddie has ever fucking experienced. Only one monster ever gave them trouble (another harpy--go figure--that Steve dispatched with ease and no injury) while the rest would sniff around and eventually have their eyes glaze over like they'd lost interest or encountered something familiar. They'd then move on, leaving the group to continue their meal in relative peace.

But for as relaxed as Eddie and the kids are, Steve is ramped to the absolute limit. His shoulders remain tense, his leg bounces whenever he sits still too long, his eyes constantly survey their surroundings, and he seems to have placed a distance between himself and Eddie. It hurts to see, especially considering the literal spark between them, but Eddie tells himself it's just until they get to camp and Steve sees for himself that they're safe.

And that moment is getting closer as they hike up Half-Blood Hill, Steve's car left at the foot until Eddie can convince Chiron and Mr. D to let him park it in the camp itself. "That big tree there is where the protective barrier starts," Eddie explains, pointing at Thalia's tree. "It used to be a girl, but there was a whole thing with the Golden Fleece, and long story short, she's running around with Artemis now."

"Can I run around with Artemis?" Max asks, her voice eager as she falls back to keep pace with Steve and Eddie.

Steve snorts, and Eddie notices the way his hand tightens on his bat. His knuckles turn white and the muscles in his forearm straining slightly and Eddie has to look away before his mouth gets too dry. "Maybe when you're older," Steve says, "After you can beat me in a spar."

Max groans, stomping her way back to Lucas with hunched shoulders and a quiet mutter that she won't be winning anytime soon.

They reach the top of the hill then, and Eddie watches as the group slows down. El in particular falls back until she's next to Steve and can grip his hand tightly. Her beanie seems to be squirming, but the movement is so subtle that Eddie thinks he's probably seeing the air ripples from the heat. He hurries to the front of the group and grins at them. "Okay! You ready to enter Camp Half-Blood, AKA the best place ever?" he asks.

"Just get on with it already," Mike says, crossing his arms as Erica nods in agreement.

Eddie, in an incredibly mature move, sticks out his tongue, and he's rewarded with a quiet laugh from Steve. "As I was saying, once you pass by the tree, I'll introduce you to Chiron, the activities director here. After that, we'll get cabin arrangements, measure you for armor and swords, and give a full tour. Of course, I'll be the one showing you around, which means you'll be getting the best possible version of the tour."

He waits for applause, but it never comes, and Eddie pouts at them. "Can't you be more excited? This is, like, the first time I've managed to bring back kids who aren't terrified."

"Oh boy," Dustin says, his voice high and fake, "I can't wait for Eddie to show us around Camp Half-Blood."

"Joke all you like, Henderson, I'm taking it as a compliment," Eddie says, darting forward and pushing down the bill of Dustin's cap. He moves back easily and claps his hands. "Okay! Step on through, please."

The kids all glance back at Steve, and he smiles encouragingly. As a group, they move past the perimeter of the tree until only Steve and El are left standing on the edge. Eddie flashes a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, it's gonna be great. El and the kids can meet more demigods their age, and you, Stevie, can relax since you won't have any monsters coming after you."

Steve nods and looks at El. "You ready?" he asks. She holds his hand even tighter--and Eddie is starting to worry about Steve's bones here--but nods.

Together, they step over the threshold.

Or, well, Steve does. El is stuck on the other side, Steve's hand still in hers but unable to pull her through. Her shoulders drop, and despite Steve's best efforts, she can't get an inch over the barrier that ripples between them. Resigned, she looks down at their hands, her grip starting to loosen some.

Eddie stares at this scene with wide eyes, and a few things suddenly make sense. No wonder Steve wouldn't say who El's godly parent is. She technically doesn't have one. The odd protectiveness makes a lot of sense now, too. And so does the way monsters would apparently move on like the gaggle of demigods was uninteresting.

"Well," Steve says, breaking Eddie out of his epiphany, "we gave it a shot."

With that, he steps back through the barrier, the rest of the kids quickly follow suit, and Eddie can feel them slipping through his fingers. "Wait!" he shouts, relieved when Steve looks up at him.

He's about to give El permission, to say everything is gonna be fine, to beg on his fucking knees if that will keep Steve--and the kids, of course--from walking away.

This is, of course, when the fucking armored and armed barrier patrol (a tradition that never really faded despite the camp's renewed safety) decides to show up.

Eddie just can't get a fucking break, huh?

-------

The moment arrows, swords, and spears (among other weapons) are aimed at them, Steve shoves the kids behind him. El sticks the closest, practically hugging his back, but he knows she'll pull away if it comes down to a fight. Steve twirls his bat, his eyes narrowed as he takes stock of his potential opponents.

The barrier shimmers between the two groups, a slight haze in his vision, and Eddie stands in the middle, one foot on each side of the barrier, looking a little frazzled. That's when a girl comes forward, her blonde hair pulled in a ponytail, a bow in hand, and her quiver slung over her shoulder. She smiles at Eddie, bright like the sun, and Steve feels a familiar-but-not kind of buzzing under his skin.

"Eddie! You're okay!" she shouts, dashing forward and hugging him tightly.

Steve's throat feels tight as Eddie hugs her back, his grip on the bat straining until he hears the reinforced wood groan and forces himself to loosen up. "Eddie," he says, a huge part of him relieved when Eddie immediately looks at him.

The girl looks between the two of them, and her eyes widen, and she smiles excitedly, and Steve suddenly feels a little better.

"Hello, I'm Chrissy," she says, walking over to stand across the barrier from Steve. "We got an alert that a monster was trying to cross, so we came to offer help. Everything looks fine, though, so come on through."

Steve feels El tug on the back of his shirt as the kids shift nervously. "We're good, actually," Lucas blurts out, unable to handle the silence.

Chrissy blinks, her smile still present but her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "You're...good?" she asks.

"Yeah," Steve says, licking his lips nervously, "I'm sure Camp Half-Blood is fun and all, but we can't stay."

"Why not? You'll be safer here."

Steve doesn't know how to answer that question, and El spares him the effort of trying to by saying, "I can't get through." He wants to spin around and grab her shoulders and ask what she's thinking, but it's El's choice to tell people, no matter how much Steve might disagree with her.

"Oh," Chrissy says, her smile dimming some before she brightens again. "Are you mortal? That's okay, we can just give you permission."

It's the perfect excuse, and Steve is ready to fucking run with it, but El shakes her head. "I'm not mortal," she says.

A heavy silence falls over the group on the other side of the barrier as the demigods understand what she means. "What kind of monster are you?" a boy asks, his hand twitching as though ready to reach for an arrow.

"Look, it doesn't matter," Steve says, a bad feeling forming in his gut. His nerves start buzzing on instinct, crackling and pulling at the clouds just a tiny bit. "We'll leave you alone and go our separate ways. You'll....you'll never see us again." And Steve can't help his voice softening, glancing at Eddie as he says that last part.

Because he wants to see Eddie again. He wants to learn about the literal spark they shared. He wants to know if Eddie's lips are soft or rough. But Steve always puts the kids first. Their safety comes before everything else, even himself.

"Wait! There's no need to go," Eddie says, holding his hands out to both sides but looking at Steve. "El isn't dangerous. We can still give her permission."

"Like Hades we are!" the same boy shouts.

"Jason!" Chrissy says, her tone hard as she whirls around.

Jason looks insulted and confused. "What are you yelling at me for? I'm not the one trying to bring a fucking monster into camp."

"She's not a monster! Stop saying that," Mike shouts, trying to push forward only for Steve to push him right back.

"Oh? Then what is she?" Jason asks.

"Her name is El," Steve says, his voice hard and unforgiving, "and she is my sister."

Several of the campers' eyes widen, and suddenly their bows are loaded and ready to shoot. "You brought two monsters to camp!" a girl shouts, glaring at Eddie.

Steve frowns, trying to control the building anger and wariness. Based on the slowly gathering clouds overhead, it's not working.

"Those things are dangerous," Jason says, his eyes narrowed. "I bet the rest are monsters in disguise, too."

"No!" Eddie shouts, "they got through the barrier."

"Oh? Prove it. Walk through right now."

The kids don't move an inch and neither does Steve. Chrissy turns back to them, an uncomfortable grimace tugging at her lips. "It would really help to diffuse things if you could just step over," she says softly.

"Not without El," Max says, glaring at the group.

"Or Steve," Lucas adds.

Despite everything, Steve can't help a wry smile and a joking, "Gee, thanks for thinking of me," thrown over his shoulder.

"Well, isn't that convenient," Jason sneers, "None of the monsters want to cross."

He pulls his bowstring back a little farther, and the clouds above them start to gather faster, tiny sparks jumping under Steve's hand on the bat. He grits his teeth, trying desperately to not get lost in anger, and takes a deep breath. "Listen, this obviously isn't going to work," he says, looking at Eddie. He smiles apologetically. "Thank you for trying, though. It was...a nice thought."

And then several things happen all at once.

Eddie's eyes widen, desperation seeps into them, and he shouts, "I give El permission to cross the barrier!"

El starts to move around Steve like she wants to talk to Chrissy herself, her beanie squirming obviously.

The rest of the kids behind Steve get caught up in El's movements and try to follow, pushing Steve forward a step and bumping El slightly to the side.

His annoyance flares, and dark clouds stretch above them with a quiet, nearly inaudible rumble of thunder.

Finally, an arrow is loosed from the group of demigods, and its path would have been true if not for the kids pushing Steve. Instead, it shoots El's beanie clear off her head and lands in the grass behind the kids, just barely missing Dustin and Will in the process.

Really, Steve can't be blamed for what happened next. Between El's snakes freaking out and the kids shouting and the arrow in the grass overpowering his vision, he really can't be blamed.

It's only understandable that he loses it, that his tenuous control fucking snaps.

A bellowing crack of thunder above them is the only warning the demigods get before a bolt of lightning strikes the ground right next to them. The sheer force of it creates a whole nearly two feet deep, knocking the demigods back a few feet as more bolts follow in its wake. Each one burns the ground where it strikes, and tiny fires feed on the grass.

Little arches of lightning jump across Steve's arms, his hair fluffing out slightly from the static. His chest is heaving from anger and electricity and the aftermath of so much tension finally breaking free as bolts corral the demigods into a tiny circle, striking all around them to prevent escape.

"Steve," El says, the sound of her grabbing his attention more than her words. But when Steve looks at her and sees the snakes on her head rubbing against each other and tasting the air and trying to stay as close to her scalp as possible, his anger flares again at the reminder of the arrow that could have killed his kids. Not only the arrow, but El's snakes could have hurt them, too. If not for the kids immediately squeezing their eyes shut, a few might be statues right now. Sure, it would wear off in a bit, and Steve is immune anyway since he's related to El, but it's fucking inconvenient and dangerous given the situation.

"Stay back," he growls, his words crackling with the lightning as he turns back to the demigods. They look scared shitless, and Steve hasn't even done anything yet. The only ones who haven't been corralled are Chrissy and Eddie, since neither of them actually did anything.

He steps forward, an arch of lightning stretching between his heel and the ground when he lifts his foot. The nails on his bat spark and glow red, looking nearly as angry as Steve feels. Steve crosses the barrier, feels it wash over him, and stops just on the other side. He smiles at the demigods, feral and unrestrained as a storm, and raises his hand to the sky.

Or he starts to only for his view to be blocked by brown hair in desperate need of a good shampoo and big brown eyes. Steve blinks, a tiny portion of his anger calming if only because he's looking at Eddie. "Move, Eds," he says.

"Stevie," Eddie whispers, his voice nearly drowned out by the rumbling thunder. So Steve pulls it back, forces it to quiet down so he can hear. "C’mon, sweetheart, there's no need to smite them. They've already peed themselves."

"They almost killed my kids," Steve says, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What would you do if you were me?"

"Well, I wouldn't look nearly as hot, for one," Eddie jokes, flashing a shaky smile.

"You're already plenty hot," Steve blurts, the shock of the words calming him down a tiny bit more. And, when he hears Lucas and Erica behind him complain as El thanks Will for retrieving her beanie, his anger finally soothes enough for lightning to stop striking the ground. The clouds are still hanging over them, though, and sparks still arch across his arms and through his hair.

Eddie's smile becomes a bit wider. "Seriously, sweetheart, there's no need," he promises. "I already gave El permission to enter. She can cross the barrier. Word will spread in camp that nobody can mess with her without getting their shit rocked by a very powerful son of Zeus. Don't you want to relax? Don't you want the kids to meet others like them? Don't you...don't you want to, you know, spend time together?"

Steve does want all of that. Especially that last one, because he's never been talked down from an unbridled, anger-fueled, lighting strike marathon this easily. Usually, the kids have to let him work through the anger and vent it all before he's back to normal.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to focus on calming down. When Eddie hesitantly takes his hand, Steve calms down even faster, and the sparks that pass between their palms are harmless. "That's it, Stevie," Eddie whispers as Steve's shoulders relax. "Besides, you can always beat Jason's ass at capture the flag later."

Steve can't help laughing at that, and he opens his eyes to see Eddie's smile. "Looking forward to it," he says, squeezing Eddie's hand. Then he looks over his shoulder at the kids. "Is everyone okay?" he asks.

The kids are all gathered around El, who has secured her beanie over her head. Unfortunately, the arrow made a larger hole than expected, and two of her snakes are poking their heads out, tongues flicking as they taste the air. They aren't strong enough on their own to actually turn anyone to stone, so none of the kids avoid looking at them.

"We are fine," El says with a tiny smile as she steps forward. Steve is about to tell her to be careful when she walks through the barrier without a problem.

The other kids follow, sticking close to El and then orbiting toward Steve and Eddie. "That was awesome!" Dustin shouts, his eyes bright as he looks at the scorch marks that create a circle around the demigods that haven't moved an inch.

"Yes, it was awesome," a voice says, old and wise and belonging to a centaur that has trotted over from the camp gates and comes to a stop before them. "Though, probably not in the way you mean, young one."

"Chiron, hey, how's it going?" Eddie asks, rubbing the back of his neck as he shifts to stand in front of Steve. "This, uh, was all a misunderstanding, really."

Chiron raises an eyebrow at Eddie, but Steve can see the twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "I see. Is that so, Chrissy?" he asks.

"Yeah, it is," Chrissy says, nodding once as she glances at Jason, "because Jason was trigger-happy and wouldn't let anyone talk."

"I see," Chiron says again, looking back at Steve and the kids behind him. "Well, I look forward to hearing all about it and getting to know our potential campers at the Big House. Over some snacks, perhaps?"

He seems nice enough, and something about Chiron just makes Steve feel confident that nothing will happen to the kids. At least, not for the next hour or so, and that's good enough. Still, he can't help pushing just to see the extent of Chiron's patience. "Even if my sister's mother is a gorgon?" he asks, watching Chiron closely.

"Am I correct in assuming her mother is Medusa?" Chiron asks.

"Yes," El says, answering for Steve as the two snakes poking through rub their heads on Steve's arm. "She's very nice."

Chiron seems to be holding back an amused smile at that, and he nods. "I'm sure," he says, nodding once. "Yes, you are still welcome, my dear. After all, our very own Eddie Munson has vouched for you."

Steve can feel the kids behind him relaxing, and he glances at Eddie to see the relieved smile on his face. "Okay then," he says, looking back at Chiron, "lead the way."

----

Tag List

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@paintgonewrong, @sadcanadianwinter, @deehellcat, @blanketlicker, @angrydonutdestiny, @booksareportal, @fallingchemicaldiscos, @am-i-obssed-probably, @anne-bennett-cosplayer

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And now, the quality meme you've all been waiting for

[were-wolverine]

punk steve is suddenly trending so i'm bringing him back with a timeline of events

summer of 1981, right before his freshman year begins, steve discovers punk.

it happens like this: a motorcycle gang drives through Hawkins and steve is absolutely mesmerized. he's sitting alone in the local diner when they all pull up and pile in, wearing denim, leather, spikes and chains. they're loud, rowdy, and unapologetically themselves, and steve has never been more awed and jealous in his life.

they take up three whole tables but are extremely kind to the waitresses and clean up after themselves, seeming to be genuinely good people (which steve doesn't see very often- or ever- in the rich suburbs of Hawkins).

he can't help but stare at them, mouth hanging open in pure wonderment. he's never seen anyone like these people before, yet he feels a sort of… kinship with them.

thanking whatever higher power there may be that his parents are away and not here to watch or berate him, steve leaves a generous tip and walks over to the table nervously. he plays with the hem of his polo, feeling kind of stupid for wearing it when these guys dress so cool.

as he approaches the table, a few of the guys notice him and the conversation lulls, obviously curious why some preppy 13 year old is walking over to them. steve swallows nervously and stands at the head of the table, forcibly keeping himself still despite the need he feels to just move. steve opens his mouth to try to speak, but nothing comes out- the words are stuck in his throat. the men continue to watch him curiously and steve feels himself flush with embarrassment- why can't he just talk?

he clears his throat and tries again, avoiding eye contact and gripping the hem of his shirt so tight that his knuckles turn white.

“i- i- uh. i think- i really- i really like your clothes!" he rushes out, stumbling over his words.

"and, and, and you're just. you're just really cool so i uh. wanted to. to tell you that. i guess," he rambles, head ducked down in embarrassment because he can't get himself to shut up.

without looking up, shame curling in his gut, steve stutters out an apology and turns to leave before a hand claps down on his shoulder. he flinches away instantly, locking eyes with an older, softer looking man with concern lining his features. he pulls his hand away slowly, like steve is a spooked wild animal, and gestures to an empty chair next to him.

"wanna stick with us before we head out?" he asks softly. steve feels a familiar burn behind his eyes so he just nods and sits down, biting on his thumbnail as he looks around the table when the other guys introduce themselves.

steve learns they follow a 'punk' lifestyle, and is immediately fascinated. they spend the rest of their meal telling steve about punk culture and music, animatedly recalling stories, and writing down names of bands and stores he should check out sometime.

by the time he gets home, steve has decided that he's going to be a punk and no one can stop him.

[haziel-luz]

His Priority {Donnie x Reader}

Alright people, I'm back with some more tea! Let's get straight to it. I hope you like it.

Chapter 5: The Bar Under the City

The air wasn't your favorite when you walked around the city. You're only lucky to be surrounded by food. That’s where you are, surrounded by food in an unknown society that Raph dragged you and Casey into. Mutants and few humans walking around without a care in the world. How this was under your nose this entire time was a total mystery to you. Yet Raph walked as if he had known this place for a while.

“What is this place?” Casey asks in disbelief, he doesn’t know what to concentrate on, the way humans are coexisting with mutants, or the fact that there were even more mutants. You were just as astonished and confused as Casey.

“Welcome to the Mutant City, a place for mutants and humans.” Raph gestures to a whole new world while we follow behind him. “Even if there are more mutants than humans here.”

Just last week you were in a heated argument with April, and now you get whiplashed by the amount of new information that none of the turtles even mentioned. You wouldn’t be surprised if April knew, of course.

“Since when? I’ve never heard of this.” You finally asked after gazing at the unfamiliar environment.

“Remember a few years back when we mentioned how we found other mutants like us?” Raph turns back around to you both.

“Yeah, and some of them thought that humans were enemies, but how did this happen?” Casey frowns, still not understanding how this place came to be.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story. Come on,” Raph gestures for us to keep walking. We continue following him while he explains. “To keep the story short, their beef with each other was getting serious, and I’m not just talking about the conflict between the humans and mutants. Some mutants have a hatred for humans, others strongly want to defend them.” 

“All that, and years later you guys just kept this to yourselves?” Casey raises an eyebrow. He’s not wrong, so much has happened without us noticing. Knowing us, we would probably try to get involved, and if you’re honest with yourself, it hurts that they didn’t rely on either one of you.

“Yeah, it’s not one of our best adventure stories, but this place turned out better than it did years ago.” Raph took a look around and genuinely smiled at the change and clapped his hands together. “Alright, that’s enough history, how about that bar?” He begins to walk along without an answer, and we continue to follow.

The bar wasn’t that far, coming into the city, everything was pretty much within reach. You even passed a small pizza place nearby, this place amazes you. You enter the bar and Raph greets some mutants, his friendly behavior surprises you. This city might’ve made him completely soft, and the residents here solidified that. You and Casey stand next to each other while Raph openly greets everyone.

“To think that out of the four of them, he would be the popular one.” Casey huffs in disbelief at the scene in front of him and you chuckle at his jab.

“These two are the ones that I’ve been talking about.” Raph comes behind you both to put his hands on your and Casey’s shoulder as he does the introduction. Everyone greets the both of you and you happily return the greeting along with Casey. After you learn some names and realize they know yours, the interaction flows quite smoothly. No awkward small talk, just a respectful ‘hello’ and a couple of handshakes.

Once they know you, they go back to their own thing. Raph leads the both of you to the bar counter and he orders the three of you some drinks. You sit down on the stool and admire the design of the bar. It’s not the fanciest thing on earth but it had its charm. You wondered if the guys visited the city to help around every once in a while.

“Is that Angry Bird and Michael Myers?” A familiar voice pointed out your boys, and you're so happy to hear their voice.

“Hey, it’s my day off, don’t make me come after you.” Raph scoffs lightly and picks up his drink.

“It’s good to see you again man!” Casey gives him a pat on the back. You use this moment to peek your head behind Raph’s shell, and there he is. Michelangelo, the sweetest and funniest brother you ever met. You made eye contact with him, he gasped and his eyes widened. He almost shoved Raph out of the way to hug you tight.

“There’s my little peach! It’s been too long!” Mikey was filled with joy at the sight of you, and you laughed at his outburst. You missed him so much.

“Way too long! I’ve been meaning to contact you, but I was kind of struggling with- you know…” Your excitement was slowly fading but Mikey pulled away with a genuine smile. 

“Don’t beat yourself up, we’re here now.” He rubbed your arms in a calming way as if he knew your nerves were creeping up on you. Mikey might be known as someone who couldn’t take things seriously before, but now he’s a natural at reading others.

“Got your round of shots right here Raph.” The bartender lined up the shot glasses and poured each of them with precision. This mutant bartender looks kinda cute with his clean uniform, and his rolled-up sleeves that show how firm his arms look. You felt a poke on your cheek, and you turned to see Mikey grinning at you. Your face flushed knowing you got caught.

“Thanks, man, he’s paying.” Raph pats Casey’s back with a smirk.

“Shit, I was this close..” Casey grumbles and gives the bartender some cash.

“I bet he can get you close,” Mikey whispers, bouncing his non-existent eyebrows.

“Mikey, no!” You whisper back and nudge his shoulder with yours, you can’t contain your giggle. Everyone grabs their shot glass and raises it.

“Alright, let’s each say a short sweet toast.” Mikey suggests, “Raph first.” He called out quickly, making you chuckle. Casey agrees and encourages Raph.

“Here’s to our first underground bar, a bar where disguises and risks of being exposed aren’t needed.” Raph toasts with an eye roll.

“Aw, how sweet of you.” Casey leans his arm on Raph’s shoulder. Raph shrugs his arm off with a scoff.

“Now me. Here’s to a nice night of fun and luck, and I don’t need to explain the luck part.” Mikey gives a charming smile to a group of ladies across the room.

“I still can’t get over the fact that you’re…active?” You try to use a word that wouldn’t feel weird, but turns out it doesn’t matter what you call it as long as you know the meaning.

“Just for that, I’m counting it as your toast. Casey?” Raph wants to change the subject before Mikey even starts that topic. You just had to laugh at how uncomfortable he got when you mentioned it.

“Uh, ok, here’s to a new night for the new singles,” Casey reaches his shot to your glass, “and with this fresh start we can enjoy this amazing night.”

You're smiling, grateful for his toast, and everyone clinks their glasses together. With a swig of that shot, you realize just how long it’s been since you had hard liquor. Yet you stayed strong despite the burning taste, you can’t let them know how soft you’ve gotten.

There was an area of the bar you hadn’t noticed yet, and it was a dancefloor, filled with music. A specific music came on and Mikey’s eyes lit up. He turns to you and gives you puppy eyes.

“Will you dance with me for a bit?” Mikey pleads in his voice while holding your hand.

“You mean, be your wingman?” You smirk when you notice how there are more women on the dance floor.

“Why not have both? Come on.” Mikey pulls you to stand up and observes your coat. “Hiding something under there?”

“Oh right, where do I put this coat?” You took it off and immediately you felt more eyes stare at you, Mikey’s mouth was open in shock.

“Okay, everyone is fired as my wingman! I’m calling you from now on. Where the hell have you been hiding this ?” Mikey raises your arm and slowly spins you around, even though his praise is platonic, it still makes you blush.

“Don’t make me spray you with a hose.” Raph pulled your arm away from him and turned to the bartender. “You have one, right Liam?” He asks to make sure he can make good on his threat.

“If you want I’ll even do it for you.” The bartender, Liam, suggests with a mischievous smile. You wish you could say how that smile didn’t affect you.

You laugh lightly and pat Raph's arm, “In Mikey’s defense, I’m usually in comfortable clothing. This is a special night, so hold this for me.” You hand Raph your coat and link your arm with Mikey’s.

“Atta girl!” Mikey laughs and leads you to the dance floor. The shot is starting to work its magic, so goodbye common sense.

---------------------------

The night is fantastic, and very well deserved. The dance with Mikey won him some women who were either mutants or humans. Mikey didn’t need much help from a wingman, if anything he was a natural. 

You ended up drinking with Raph and Casey as well, you even tried to have Raph dance with you. His dance moves make you laugh because you know how awkward he can be, yet it’s still sweet how he tries. Casey joins in to help Raph not feel so pressured, also giving him a drink to have an excuse not to move much on the dance floor.

The boots you're wearing have been hurting a little, but overall you feel tired from so much movement, so you sit at the bar. You watch them have fun from a distance with a soft smile.

Your mind slowly drifted off to what happened earlier today before you went out with the boys.

Looking through your closet, you found a fine short dress that was meant for your anniversary with Donnie. You might as well use it for this occasion, this dress can’t go to waste. As you hold the dress proudly against you in front of the mirror. A notification from your phone chimed, and you picked it up confused. 

Who else is going to text you other than Raph this late at night? Mikey maybe? You thought to yourself as you unlocked your phone. You instantly regret not reading the notification on your lock screen first, because it turned out to be your ex.

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, you didn’t want your thoughts going through chaos.

‘Can we talk? Whenever the day and time suits you best.’

A talk or an apology? Last time his apology was genuine but it wasn’t enough to fix his problem. Did he find out what he needed to do or how to manage it? Hell, even you didn’t know how to analyze his little obsession with April. Friendship or not, it wasn’t healthy for them, and especially for you or Casey.

You clicked your phone back off, you were not ready to answer him even through text. Coming back to organize your thoughts, you need to do this logically. Even if a really small part of you wanted to talk to him and see where the conversation takes off. Your whole being needed to go out tonight and have fun. April was enough drama last week.

“Need some extra fuel to keep up with them?” Liam stands in front of you, cleaning an empty glass. You turn your attention to him, suddenly aware that you’re not alone.

“Against two ninjas and a cop? It wasn’t a fair fight to begin with.” You playfully huffed and propped your cheek on your palm. Liam chuckles while putting the glass away.

“You got a point. Need some water instead?” He pulls out a glass and places it in front of you.

“Do you come with it?” You respond before you can even think. He stays quiet for a bit, and you're confused until you replay your words in your mind again. “Wait-I didn’t mean that! Not like that.” You cover your face, cringing at yourself. What the hell!

“Don’t worry about it.” Liam laughs as he pours you some water. “The offer was tempting, if it wasn’t for the liquor I would've let it happen.” He gives a small smirk when he slides the water to you. You bit your bottom lip gently at his honesty.

“If I drink this, would it be enough for something smaller than that ?” You have no idea where this confidence came from.

“ Oh ? So how small are we talking?” Liam leans forward with his arms on the bar counter. The liquor running through your veins right now is telling you to kiss him. Thanks to the thrill of your surroundings, you’ve noticed the tension you’ve been holding on to for a while now. The type of tension that could only be loosened by someone willing to wreck you under the sheets. Yet, a part of you isn’t willing to give in to someone you just met.

You don’t answer, but only maintain eye contact while you start to drink your water in three gulps. Liam’s eyes widen a bit, suddenly feeling flustered from your wordless response. Putting the empty glass down in front of him, your lips give a cheeky grin. “How about a dance first?”

He bursts into laughter and hangs his head down while his shoulders shake. His contagious laughter has you joining him within seconds. It’s pretty rare for you to make a cute stranger laugh. This is the first time you flirted this playfully, it’s different from what you were used to. With Donnie, it was just cute at first, but it went stale ever since his April “thing” came back.

“That I can do, my shift ended anyway. I’ll be right back.” Liam placed the towel away and disappeared through a door behind the bar. As you wait for him, you take another look around the place with a relaxed smile on your face. The boys were enjoying their night, and it was a nice sight. The goal tonight was to give yourself peace, and that was a success.

“Ready for that dance?” You didn’t realize Liam was already beside you with his hand out. You smile and place your hand on his. As he leads you to the dance floor, you notice Mikey looking amused with non-existent arched eyebrows. The speakers played a slow passionate song, right on cue.

Everyone on the dance floor either left or found someone to dance with. Liam respectfully placed his hand on your back, while his other held yours close to his chest. His movement was translating the music, increasing the closeness between you. Giving in to your instinct, you rest your head on his chest, firm and comfortable.

“Thank you, I honestly didn’t think I was gonna get through the night.” You were the first to break the pleasant silence.

“Had a rough day?” His chest rumbled against you as he spoke, it was soothing.

“A couple of weeks.” You spoke gently, enjoying the company you had with you.

“May I ask how someone as delightful as you, would be suffering?” He gently rubs your back and his comfort reassures you that you can trust him.

“I broke up with my boyfri- ex-boyfriend. I came to realize that he had someone more important than me in his life. He didn’t cheat, but I knew that deep down, he wanted to know ‘what could’ve been’.” Explaining this to Liam didn’t make your stomach turn. The reason behind the breakup did hurt, but it’s numb now. Dancing with Liam didn’t make you uncomfortable. Letting another man hold you close is proof that you can move on, or at least capable of doing so.

----------------------------

“Aww, look at her go.” Mikey stood next to Raph and Casey in awe. He hasn’t seen you look so peaceful, slow dancing, and graceful too. You weren’t one for dancing in general, but after letting yourself give in to tonight's new experience, it seemed natural.

“Guess it was a good thing I forced her out tonight.” Raph gently smiled at the scene before him. Sure, it was weird seeing you dancing with someone else other than his nerdy brother. He remembered a time when you would bother him for dancing lessons, just so you wouldn’t step on Donnie’s feet on your first dance. Looks like time does continue even for people with a broken heart.

“Remember how shy she used to be?” Casey observes you with a small smile. You weren’t the life of the party until tonight. Took you long enough. He’s proud to see you out in the open for once. However…Casey does miss your shyness and the way you used to cling to him or Raph when there was a huge crowd. It was cute. Then again, he’s happy to see you socially grow on your own.

“Oh yeah, that’s exactly how she got the nickname ‘bug’. Always hid behind me and capable of being annoying despite how small she seemed to everyone else.” Raph gently laughed at the memory, how angry you got when he called you ‘bug’ the first time.

“Hey guys, I know I drank more than I should and cut me off if I’m tripping. Lookey over there.” Mikey pointed to the entrance of the bar, and both of them turned their heads.

“Please tell me that’s your cousin.” Casey instantly responded, putting his drink down.

“Shit.” Raph grumbles and clenches his jaw for what he’s about to witness.

----------------------------

Liam gives you a small spin and pulls you close, making you smile at his gentleness.

“You know it’s not every day I meet someone new and be comfortable with it.” You say as you move your head up and see his charming smile.

“Then I’m honored to be the first one you're willing to be yourself around.” He moves his hand to caress your cheek, and you lean into his hand. He eyed your lips for a few seconds, debating whether to kiss you or not. After flirting and dancing for a while, he remains respectful.

You can blame it on the alcohol later, so you move in, deciding for him. Before your lips connect, an aggressive force moves Liam away from you in the blink of an eye. A loud thud stops the music, and you see him on the floor with arms up as if he blocked an attack. It happened so fast.

“What the hell was that ?” Behind you is a voice you know so well, and he was furious to the core. A shiver made its way down your spine at how low and menacing his voice sounded. You slowly turned around and met face-to-face with Donatello. He does look different…

“Don!” You heard Leo’s voice coming through the entrance. The leader sounds frustrated at Donnie after watching him brutally attack someone so suddenly.

“You better take a step back,” Raph warned him, he was quick to move you behind him. You glance behind you to see Mikey and Casey helping Liam stand steady. Of all the moments to run into your ex, it had to be like this.

You felt a little shaken and very confused. What was he doing here? How did he know where you were? Was he always capable of being this angry?

“I asked a question.” Donnie ignored Raph and kept his eye on you. This was so out of character for him and it worried you.

“She doesn’t owe you an answer.” Raph blocked you from his view and turned to Leo. “You had one job, fearless.”

“In my defense, it was going well. Come on Donnie, let’s not make this difficult.” Leo reached for his arm, but Donnie was quick to snatch it away.

“So this is how it’s going to be? Just avoid each other every day so she can do whatever she wants?” Donnie held his ground, and that hit a nerve.

“At least I can now without all the extra bullshit.” You finally processed the position you're in, and no, you didn’t deserve that slap-in-the-face comment.

“Extra bullshit? I’ve been trying to understand why this happened in the first place while this asshole is all over you.” Donnie was seeing red, his posture was so tense that it made Raph more irritated.

“Alright, maybe you both need a conversation to finally clean up this mess, but that’s not gonna be today.” Raph surprisingly has a calm voice, but you know it’s his last string of patience. He continues, “Let’s call it a night and-”

“Donnie, why did you suddenly leave like that?” April appeared through the entrance and instantly stopped herself to look at the scene. Her eyes landed on Casey and flinched as a reaction. You looked back to see how Casey's eyes reflected anger.

“I think she got it down to a T. How the hell does April know about this place and we’re the last to know? This whole thing was bullshit from the beginning, and neither of you had any respect for us whatsoever.” Casey raised his voice and stood beside you, supporting your claims.

“Casey, it’s not what you think. This place used to be dangerous-” April wanted to explain herself, but Casey wasn’t having any of it.

“And that makes you Superman, right? Risking your own life at every turn just because you can by trusting him, but you don’t trust me enough to protect you. Now that’s some extra bullshit.” He spit out his truth and you so badly wanted to applaud.

“Don’t be mad at her just because-” Donnie glared at Casey and not even the genius was capable of stopping this ‘bonehead’.

“Fuck you! What were you two doing together anyway? Isn’t that how you ended up alone to begin with?” Casey was livid, and he was ready to go toe to toe with Donnie but you held him back.

“Casey, let’s get out of here. It’s not worth it.” You calmly told him as you stood in front of him to make sure he wouldn’t make a move. He took a moment to look at you and saw how your anger was fading into tears, your hand on his chest trembled a bit. The one thing that Donnie wasn’t able to witness, was your strength fading away. Casey knows how angry you can be, but he also knows how certain situations can overwhelm you, but only if it hits you to the core. 

Obviously, with April here, it just confirms that there’s more to their close friendship. Neither of them brought you to this new society between humans and mutants. It never occurred to them to even talk about what was going on.

Casey takes a deep breath in and out while rubbing his face, “Fine. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

You were relieved and went to get your coat and on your way back you faced Liam with an apology. He responded with a sheepish smile and rubbed your arm for reassurance that it was alright. You hugged Mikey, promising him that you would definitely keep in touch with him.

“We’re ready to go Raph.” You told him, completely ignoring your ex. Raph looks around and notices a crowd forming because of the scene.

“Alright, nothing to see here everyone, move it along.” Raph dismissed everyone with a glare, and most of them went back to minding their own business. He turns back to Donnie and points to the entrance of the bar. “So, are we leaving here in peace or you wanna make this difficult?”

Donnie takes one last glance at you, even if you were actively ignoring him. It hurt him even more now that he witnessed how unattached you are to him. Dancing with another man you barely knew, and going as far as trying to kiss him. He wants to blame the alcohol, or maybe that asshole, but if it wasn’t for tonight, he wouldn’t have realized how broken this relationship was. 

At first, he believed it was jealousy, or maybe you felt insecure knowing how he used to feel for April, which could explain your lack of trust. No. This was something more, and he was desperate to understand why.

With a defeated sigh, Donnie turns around and makes his way out of the bar, shrugging off Leo’s sympathetic hand from his shoulder. Leo rolled his eyes and followed close behind while waving April to go along with them. Raph turns his head to look at you over his shoulder.

“I mean what I said about the talk,” Raph’s suggestion makes you frown a bit, “and I know you don’t want to, but if you want to move on, tell him. If not, then try figuring it out with him. I’m not just saying this for him, but for you too bug.” You would give his words some thought, but you only nodded in response.

You and Casey followed Raph, while Mikey stayed behind to make sure Liam was okay. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for putting him in that position, even if you didn’t know how Donatello would react like this. Hell, you didn’t predict that you would see him this abruptly. It was a surprise that you would trust a stranger you just met. Liam was a gentleman, he made you feel seen and heard, and it felt nice.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the material of your dress. This damn dress was just a reminder of what could’ve been if Donnie had just…just what? Stopped his unnecessary lies? Confided in you more? Be in the present with you and only you? No…you just wanted him to stop himself from figuring out that he never wanted you. He wanted April.

Love is funny and unpleasant that way. No matter how much you wanted to be angry or avoid him…deep down you wanted Liam to be Donnie on that dancefloor. The way he held you close, how he calmed you from your worries and sadness. Liam reminded you of him, and it hurts realizing that now.

Why should you still love him?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next => Chapter 6: ??? (Coming Soon)

Previous <= Chapter 4: Let Him Go

Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I had to rewrite and rearrange some of the things I previously wrote because it just didn't feel good enough.

Also, I passed my exam with flying colors! In all honestly, the beginning of this week was me catching up on sleep. I didn't know my brain needed that much rest.

🥰 Thank you for supporting my writing and I'm sorry for the long wait, I appreciate all of you.

[kawaiibarty]

the phantom's game

wow okay, this fic has A LOT of lore. if you don't want to read a fic with a plot full of Plot and Slow Burn then this isn't the fic for you. alternatively, if you're looking for a fic that reads like it should be shoved in the recesses of a dingy library then this might be the fic for you?

masterlist

the fic:

the phantom's game will be incredibly slow in the beginning because it's basically remus just getting his footing in the world of literature and it's building up to the main plot.

this fic will also be written in three parts (but it will be put all together as one fic in case you want to download it or whatever, it also makes reading easier i think) or at least that's the aim. it may end up being more than three (maybe four MAYBE) and the word count aim is around 100k to 120k words. ideally the fic was to have around 40/50 chapters but as of now im really uncertain about the length (even though i know how it ends lol) because, and im such a nerd for this, but i ended up doing some math about fic chapter length compared to the original work and so far ive gathered that for every 1 chapter in the original work i have 2 chapters for my fic and an additional 1.5k words. it took me forever to work that out please clap. counting words in a book is hard.

and also

i feel like it's a testament to the dedication im putting into this fic 😔

the point of view might change from third to first person after part one, which may be a bit confusing so im putting a pin in this idea for now as im not even close to part two (let me know what you think about this!)

characters/relationships

this fic is written from the perspective of remus lupin and the main pairing is wolfstar (remus/sirius). main characters are remus, leo ferox (from the fanfiction all the young dudes), and sirius black. other characters are barty crouch jr, lily evans and her father who is an oc; maurice evans and other characters will be added as i write because i cba to actually flesh it out rn (and also i dont want to spoil). there are also minor relationships that are discussed.

trigger warnings/content warnings:

there are quite a few things that happen in this fic that id like to forewarn you of should you decide to read it. there are discussions of abusive parents, substance abuse and violence. in one of the chapters there will be some dubious consent, drugging, there will be descriptions of murder and violence as well as discussions around mental illness and homophobia. discussions/mentions of suicide!!!!

i will be adding on as the fic goes because i know there is stuff that ive missed.

why am i doing this???

i largely wrote this fic because i got high on meds and some other stuff it was wacko and i had absolutely nothing to do. id completely given up in trying to recover my old zombie apocalypse fic (it's a long story) and i really wanted something that i was familiar with not just because i liked the complex and the idea but because i knew it. iykwim?

it's based on a book i read when i was fifteen that got me out of the second largest reading slump in my life and basically catapulted me into the genre of fantasy realism and the whole dark/chaotic academia scene. i also decided that i would continue writing it after my beta @thestrawberryapologist showed interest in it.

another reason why i continued it rather than trying to piece together a nonexistent zombie apocalypse fic was because i have recommended this book COUNTLESS times but it seems no one i recommended it to seemed to like it.

so this is me saying, very passive aggressively, that the plot IS GOOD :(

i smashed the original book in like 2 days and ive been thinking about it for four years straight. i haven't even gotten to reading the other parts of the series because im still hooked on how THIS specific one was written.

its also a really fun (and for me) a new look into the characters because ive really never written anything this detailed before. the plot is a rollercoaster and you HAVE to stay on your toes with the the original work and i would really really like to reflect that onto my writing.

this is also the first time since i was 15/16 that ive properly attempted anything full length with the means to actually finish it off.

when is it going to be finished?

that's a good question. and one i don't know the answer to. it took me 2 months to get to chapter 4 so... it may take a year or two or 6 months dude but it's gonna be long and it's gonna be full

please don't be shy to ask me about it (though that doesn't mean im inclined to spoil it — which i won't!)

[lifeofpriya]

Game of Darts - Jack Draper

[gif credit goes to @pyotrkochetkov]

a/n: @pyotrkochetkov and i were chatting like we usually do everyday and she brought up a fic concept about playing a game of darts with Jack, and the rest was history 🤭🫡

summary: jack can never say no to a game of darts...

"Are you sure your friends won't mind me tagging along?" you ask, looking at Jack with a mix of excitement and apprehension. His eyes crinkle at the corners, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"Of course not," Jack replies, clapping you on the back. "You're one of us now."

The pub is a cozy, dimly-lit affair, the kind where the air is thick with the scent of spilled beer and good-natured banter. The walls are plastered with memorabilia, a pattern of faded newspaper clippings and dusty trophies that tell tales of local victories and forgotten dreams. The murmur of chatter and clinking glasses is punctuated by the occasional roar of laughter, and in the corner, a dartboard calls to Jack like a siren's song.

Jack, with his lean, athletic build and a mop of dark brown hair that never seems to stay put, strides over to the dartboard with the confidence of a man who has spent countless hours perfecting his aim. The wooden floorboards creak beneath his feet, and the worn leather of his shoes whispers a story of many matches won and lost. His eyes light up with anticipation as he selects a set of darts, their pointed tips gleaming under the warm glow of the pendant lights.

You watch him, admiring the ease with which he handles the darts, his strong fingers curling around the shafts with the familiarity of a much-loved instrument. He notices your gaze and holds one out to you, the metal cool and smooth against your skin. "Here, you go first," he says, his accent a gentle lilt that makes everything sound like a question.

You take the dart with a mix of excitement and nerves. You've never played darts before, but Jack seems to have faith in you. The weight is surprisingly comforting in your hand, a reassurance that you can do this. The bar is noisy, but in this moment, it's just you and Jack, the dartboard, and the promise of a new experience.

"Alright, so hold it like this," Jack says, his voice clear and patient as he demonstrates the grip. "Three fingers, like so." His hand covers yours, guiding your fingers into place. His touch is warm, the roughness of his calloused thumb brushing against your skin as he adjusts your aim. "Now, just look at the board, pick your spot, and throw."

You do as he instructs, focusing on the red bullseye that seems to pulse with every heartbeat. The room falls away, leaving only the sound of your breath and the faint whisper of Jack's encouragement. The dart feels like an extension of your arm, and as you let it fly, time seems to slow. It arcs gracefully through the air, the tail end fluttering like a feather in the breeze.

"Good throw," Jack says, his voice a soft rumble of approval as the dart sticks into the board, a few rings away from the bullseye. "Keep that elbow up, and follow through."

You nod, eager to improve. You, with your curiosity piqued, mimic Jack's stance. The darts feel heavier than you expected, a surprising weight that you hadn't noticed before. You take a deep breath, trying to still the tremor in your hand.

"Steady," Jack murmurs, his gaze intent on yours. "You've got this."

You nod, feeling a rush of determination. You throw the second dart, and it lands closer to the bullseye this time, the thunk echoing through the pub. The crowd around the dartboard, mostly Jack's friends, cheer and clap, making you feel like you've just scored a winning point at Wimbledon. The third dart, though, is the trickiest. You take a step back, eyeing the board as if it holds all the secrets of the universe.

"Just relax," Jack whispers, his breath tickling your ear. His hand rests lightly on your shoulder, a gentle reminder of his support.

You let out the breath you didn't realize you were holding and throw the third dart. It sails through the air, straight and true, and lands smack in the center of the bullseye. The crowd erupts into cheers, and even Jack's eyes widen in surprise.

"Bloody 'ell!" one of his friends shouts, slapping the wooden countertop. "Look at that, Jack! You've got yourself a natural!"

Jack's smile is a beacon in the dim pub light, pride shimmering in his eyes as he pulls you into a side hug. "Told ya," he says, his cheek pressing against your temple briefly. "You're a quick learner."

The crowd around the dartboard parts to let you through, and you can feel the warmth of their eyes on you, a mix of admiration and curiosity. You blush under their gaze, but Jack's hand, resting casually on the small of your back, is a grounding force. He orders drinks, the ease of his movements and the way he interacts with the bartender telling you that this is his second home. The clinking of glasses and the murmur of congratulations are a symphony of welcome.

You took a sip of water, watching as Jack's friends gathered around, curious about your sudden dart prowess. The cool liquid washed down your dry throat, calming the nerves that had been dancing there. Jack's arm was still around your shoulders, and you leaned into his side, feeling a sense of belonging that was as surprising as your newfound skill.

"Alright, let's see if you can do it again," Jack said, his voice filled with playful challenge. You nodded, eager to prove that your first throw wasn't just a fluke. The darts felt more natural in your hand now, a tool you could wield with grace and precision. You stepped up to the line, the chalky residue from previous players' feet a ghostly outline beneath your sneakers.

Jack's friends chatted and joked around the table, their laughter bouncing off the low ceilings. The atmosphere was electric, a potent mix of camaraderie and competition. You took a deep breath, focusing on the bullseye, a tiny red target amidst the sea of green and yellow. The dart felt like a part of you, an extension of your will.

You throw again. It hits the board, not the bullseye, but close enough to score a solid number. The group cheered, and Jack's arm tightened around you for a brief second before releasing. His eyes sparkled with pride, the kind that made you feel seen and appreciated.

The night weaves on, a tapestry of laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional dart landing with a satisfying thunk. You learn the lingo—double-twenties, treble-twenties, and that elusive outer bull that's worth fifty points. Jack's friends, a motley crew of locals, share stories of their own dartboard triumphs and disasters. You listen, your cheeks flushed from the excitement and the warmth of the room, feeling a kinship with these people who, only hours ago, were strangers.

Jack's hand occasionally finds yours, squeezing it reassuringly when your throws go awry, and you realize that this isn't just about the game. It's about the connection, the shared moments, and the joy of learning something new together. Each dart thrown is a declaration of trust in each other's company.

As the night deepens, the pub's lights seem to grow softer, the shadows stretching out like lazy cats seeking warmth. The air is a blend of laughter and the faint scent of the rain outside. You're not sure if it's the beer or the thrill of the game, but your cheeks feel flushed and your heart races every time Jack's hand brushes against yours. His eyes, an intoxicating shade of hazel, hold yours as you throw again. This time, the dart sails past the triple-twenty, thwacking into the single-four, a look of mock horror crossing his face.

"Oh no," he says, his voice rich with amusement. "What a tragedy."

You laugh, the sound a little too loud in the suddenly quiet pub. The tension in your shoulders eases as you realize everyone's just having fun. You lean into Jack's side, feeling his chuckle rumble through his chest. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer, and you're surprised by how comforting it feels.

"Don't worry," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "I'll teach you all the tricks."

Jack's grip is firm but gentle, his hand guiding yours to adjust the angle of the dart. You follow his instructions, your breath hitching slightly as your body molds to his. The air between you crackles with energy, the kind that makes you feel alive. You throw again, and this time, the dart slices through the air, finding its mark in the treble-twenty. The cheers from the crowd are like music to your ears, a sweet symphony of victory.

"Better," Jack says, his smile wide and proud. His eyes crinkle with mirth as he ruffles your hair, a gesture that feels more intimate than it should. "You're a fast learner."

You blush under his praise, your heart fluttering in your chest. The pub's warmth isn't just from the bodies and the laughter anymore; it's from the heat that seems to be radiating between the two of you. You swipe at the loose strand of hair that's fallen over your eyes, a gesture that feels surprisingly shy.

Jack notices, his smile softening. He leans in, his hand moving from your shoulder to tuck the hair behind your ear. The touch is feather-light, but it sends a jolt through your body, making you shiver. "You're doing great," he says, his voice a low murmur that feels like a secret just for you.

The next few rounds are a blur of laughter, cheers, and the occasional groan as a dart misses its mark. Yet, with each throw, you feel your confidence growing, bolstered by Jack's encouragement and the camaraderie of the group. The game becomes less about winning and more about the joy of trying, of being part of something.

Jack's friends, once a sea of unfamiliar faces, now feel like old companions. They tease you good-naturedly, offering tips and praise in equal measure. The bartender, a burly man with a beard as thick as a fur coat, winks as he refills your drink, a silent acknowledgment of your place in Jack's life.

As the evening wears on, the conversations become more personal, the jokes more intimate. You find yourself sharing stories from your childhood, the words spilling out like they've been waiting to find an audience that truly cares. Jack's hand is a constant presence, resting on your shoulder, playing with your hair, holding your hand when you lean in to whisper something only he can hear.

One of his friends, a lanky man with a mischievous grin, tells a story that has everyone in stitches, except for Jack, who's too busy watching you. His eyes are soft, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he takes in every giggle, every flash of your teeth. His gaze is a warm embrace, making you feel seen in a way you haven't felt in a long time.

The game of darts turns into a lesson in teamwork and trust. Jack's hand rests on the small of your back as he guides you to the perfect spot to throw, his body a wall of warmth against yours. You lean into him, feeling the strength of his arms as he corrals you into place, his voice a gentle hum of instruction. Each dart thrown is a step closer to understanding this strange dance of precision and power, but it's the moments between throws that truly matter.

Jack's friends, now your friends too, share stories of their own dating misadventures, their laughter as contagious as the warmth of the pub. You find yourself opening up, sharing tales of your past that feel lighter somehow in this new context, as if the weight of your worries has been transferred to the darts in your hand. The air is thick with the scent of camaraderie and the sweetness of shared confessions.

"Alright, last round," Jack announces, his voice a warm rumble in the cozy space. You nod, feeling a mix of excitement and reluctance. This night has been a whirlwind of emotions and new experiences, and you're not quite ready for it to end.

You both line up, darts in hand, the air crackling with the anticipation of the final throw. You look at Jack, his eyes shining with the same excitement you feel. The connection between you is palpable, a silent promise of more to come.

You throw first, the dart spinning through the air with the grace of a ballet dancer. It lands in the treble-twenty, a feat that earns you a round of applause and a proud nod from Jack. He steps up to the line, his focus intense. His throw is swift and sure, the dart embedding itself in the board with a satisfying thunk. The room falls quiet, the only sound the steady beat of the rain outside.

Jack's turn comes around again, and he throws a perfect shot, the dart landing in the double-twenty. His grin is wide, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Your turn," he says, nudging you gently.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment, the anticipation of the crowd, and the warmth of Jack's hand on your lower back. The dart feels alive in your hand, the room a blur of faces and sounds. You focus on the board, the numbers a dance of possibilities. You let go, the dart spinning in the air, a silent prayer to the gods of pub games.

It hits the board with a thwack, landing just outside the double-twenty. The room erupts in a mix of groans and laughter, Jack's friends clapping you on the back, Jack's eyes crinkling with delight. You can't help but laugh at yourself, the tension in your shoulders easing.

"Close," Jack says, his hand coming up to ruffle your hair again. "So close."

You laugh, feeling the warmth of his touch linger even after he's pulled away. His friends are already setting up for the next round, the darts flying through the air like miniature missiles of fun. The pub's atmosphere is thick with cheer, the kind that comes from a shared experience of victory and defeat. You lean against the sticky bar, watching Jack as he lines up his next shot. His focus is unwavering, his body a study in concentration.

As he throws, you find yourself not just watching the dart but watching him, the way his muscles flex, the intensity in his eyes, the way his mouth quirks up into a smile when he nails the shot. You realize, with a start, that you're not just here for the game anymore. You're here for him.

Jack turns to you, catching your gaze. His smile turns knowing, and he winks before stepping back to let you take your turn. Your cheeks heat up, and you hope the dim lighting hides your blush. You step up to the line, your heart racing like you're about to serve an ace at the US Open. The darts feel heavier in your hand, the room quieter than a library at midnight.

You throw, and time seems to stand still. The dart slices through the air, a silent testament to your newfound skill. It lands in the treble-twenty, the sound echoing through the pub. The crowd erupts in cheers, and Jack's arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into a quick, exuberant hug. His laughter is infectious, and you can't help but grin as his friends slap you on the back, praising your throw.

The night stretches on, a tapestry of laughter, shared stories, and the rhythmic thud of darts hitting the board. You learn the nuances of Jack's friends, their quirks and their histories. They accept you with open arms, teasing you just enough to make you feel like one of them. The unspoken bond between you and Jack grows stronger with each passing moment, a silent conversation that needs no words.

As the crowd thins and the pub's lights flicker in the early hours, Jack leans in, his breath a warm whisper against your cheek. "Wanna call it a night?" His voice is a gentle nudge, a question that holds the promise of more.

You nod, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of leaving this cocoon of warmth and camaraderie. The cool air outside hits you like a slap in the face, sobering you up from the haze of the pub's warmth. Jack's hand finds yours, weaving your fingers together as you walk down the cobblestone street, the rain a gentle lullaby under the glow of the street lamps.

The silence between you is comfortable, a blanket of understanding that wraps around you both. The occasional puddle splashes under your feet, but you don't mind. You're too busy watching Jack, the way his hair sticks to his forehead in the dampness, the way his eyes light up when he looks at you.

"Thank you for bringing me here," you say finally, your voice a soft echo in the quiet night.

Jack squeezes your hand, his thumb tracing comforting circles on your skin. "You're welcome. I wanted you to see this side of me, you know, the one that's not all about tennis."

You smile, feeling your heart swell. "I like this side of you," you reply. "It's… real. It's nice to see you relaxed and having fun."

Jack squeezes your hand a little tighter. "Yeah?" He looks down at you, his eyes searching yours. "I like being with you, too. You make everything feel… more."

You blush, ducking your head slightly. "I do?"

Jack nods, his smile gentle. "You do."

You walk in quiet companionship, the sound of your footsteps syncing with the steady beat of your heart. The rain has slowed to a drizzle, leaving the air fresh and clean. The streetlamps cast a soft glow over the damp cobblestone, painting everything in shades of gold and shadow.

Jack's hand is warm in yours, the calluses on his fingers a testament to the hours he's spent on the tennis court. Yet here, in the dim light of the pub, those same hands had been gentle, guiding yours to the perfect grip, the perfect throw.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Book of Memories ~ Clavis, Jin, Sariel ~ Part 1

Collection story

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

At an hour when the stillness of night envelops the court and people have fallen asleep-

Jin: Well this is a surprise. I didn't expect to be greeted by an unusual pair like this.

When Jin returns from going out, his eyes widen at the sight of Sariel and Clavis waiting for him.

Clavis: I saw Sariel taking long strides down the hall. I though I'd see something interesting so I followed.

Jin: Too bad you didn't get the pleasure you were looking for.

Clavis: No, I did.

Jin: ...?

Sariel interrupts their conversation with a cough.

Sariel: Good work today, Prince Jin. You came home a little later than expected. Did you run into trouble?

Jin: It's all good. I just got a little lost in a less familiar town.

Sariel: ...

Clavis: Don't scowl so hard, Sariel. The man's trying to deceive you so at least act like it.

Jin: Hm, what are you talking about?

Clavis smugly points at his cheek and then his arm.

Clavis: You got some scratched on your cheek and faint cuts on your arm. Looks like your job was thrilling enough for you to get hurt?

Jin: Ahhh...I forgot about that.

Sariel: You can report to me later. First we need to get those injuries treated.

Jin: I'm fine. I'll just take a bath and go to bed- Ow...

Clavis approached Jin and pressed this thumb firmly against his side. The large figure flinched away to escape the pain.

Clavis: Hmm, looks like your side's hurt too.

Sariel: Prince Jin...?

Jin: Fine, I give.

He raises and waves both of his hands.

Jin: Geez, you two only get along at times like this, don't you?

Clavis and Sariel: We don't get along.

Jin: Fine, you don't. I won't say more. Come on, patch me up.

He claps them both lightly on their shoulders. As if that was a signal, the three head won the hall toward the infirmary.

Clavis: But it's good that I came along, even if it was by coincidence.

Sariel: What do you mean?

With a meaningful smile, Clavis holds up a finger.

Clavis: Jin often hides his injuries. It'd be a problem if you got angry and started a fight, Sariel.

Jin: A fight?

Sariel: I certainly would like to correct Prince Jin's habit of hiding things from me, but I'm not so short-tempered that I'd escalate to a fight. Speaking of which, have we ever fought before?

Jin: I don't think so.

Clavis: It was around the time that it was that Jin would be spending time at court as the 1st prince.

Jin and Sariel: ...

At Clavis' words, Jin and Sariel casually exchanged looks.

Jin: Did something happen? I don't remember.

Sariel: I don't either. Not at all.

Clavis: A little too early for you two to be getting senile, don’t you think?

Sariel: The only thing I remember is Prince Clavis acting like Prince Jin's senior.

Jin: I remember that all too well. With those round, sparkling eyes. He said, 'Even though you're older than me, I'm the senior prince! You are my junior.'

Clavis: Was that strangled, high-pitched voice you trying to imitate me as a child? I don't get it. I had a much cuter voice.

Jin: A person's memories can get hazy.

Sariel: I thought it was similar.

Clavis: I don't care about my brother's injuries anymore. By the way, if you can remember that far back, then you can definitely remember that day.

A chuckle from both Jin and Sariel echoes down the hall at Clavis' exasperation.

Jin: You don't forget about arguing over something trivial, even if you wanted to.

Sariel: I suppose that's what you call youthful follies.

Jin: Heh, no doubt.

He scratches the back of his head in embarrassment and squints his eyes nostalgically.

Memories from those days come come to mind...

~~ Flashback ~~

After learning about his lineage, Jin decided to stay at court as the first prince.

His animosity toward the king vanished slower than the movement of the hour hand of a clock, but it didn't eliminate his dissatisfaction with royalty and nobility that had persecuted his mother, who was chosen as "Belle".

Even so, once he decided to be a prince, he needed to hammer in a vast amount of knowledge into his mind.

He read a multitude of thick books and wrote until the paper turned black...

No one knew that he was suffering from nightmares for days as he kept up this daily routine.

It wasn't enough to just study hard.

He attended many tea parties to meet with royalty and nobility.

The gaudy rooms and sweet aroma overwhelmed him.

Noble 1: Ah, that kid...

Noble 2: He certainly looks like a commoner. If we get too close, it might transfer to us.

Noble 3: Fufu, he'll hear you.

Jin: ... ...Geez, I can hear you, you know.

People stared and shunned because of his commoner background.

Jin pretended to be a prince because that's his chosen path.

It was at that time he learned that he was good at faking it.

However, his skill in making clear decisions like an adult was still immature and he couldn't help but feel troubled.

Then one day, an unexpected encounter arrives.

Clavis: I'm the third prince, Clavis Lelouch. Even though you're older than me, I'm the senior prince! You are my junior. Therefore, if there's anything you don't know, you can ask me. Isn't that great?

Jin: ...

For Jin, it was a presence that disrupted the "now" that was his daily routine. At the same time, it was a presence that was somewhat suffocating.

Next

[seishironagi2]

A Love Across Eras

A/n: Hi, I'm back. Sorry, I broke my posting daily streak :( I will try harder, my angels, ily. PS, I hope you like the new chapter and, as usual, please leave any tips for me in the comments!

summary: you guys settle into your situation and begin to find your way home.

James Sirius Potter x muggleborn!reader

word count:2118 words

warnings: none

read the previous parts: part one part two

"So that's pretty much it," you say, clapping your hands together as you rest them on your knees.

"So your saying, you are from three years later and, this thing," the long black hair boy says playing with the time-turner when the three of you flinch, Albus reaches out, pocketing the broken object

"brought you here," he says, finishing his sentence as he looks over at his three friends' reactions. the three of you nod in sync while you look over at James, his eyes filled with awe as he looks at the man who he's named after.

"what's with him?" Remus says as he points at James, still staring at the two boys unfazed.

"Oh, don't mind him. He's a little slow. plus, when we entered Hogwarts, we heard a lot about you guys and your pranks. he kinda idolises you guys," you say as you groan, snapping your fingers in front of the boys face.

"What are your names?" Peter says, finally speaking up as he makes eye contact with Albus when who looks away after hearing stories from his father.

"I'm Y/n L/n. This is James Walker, my boyfriend and Alfred Walker. and as you know, we need to go back home soon," I say, introducing the two boys with a smile.

James Potter and his girlfriend Lily walk in, hand in hand, as they take a seat beside the boys.

"Who are you guys" Lily questions with a smile as she looks at you

"I'm Y/n, this is James, and this is Alfred. you probably haven't seen us around because We're a couple years from the future, and we got stuck in this year cause someone put the year wrong," you say, looking at James with a look.

"And that was the short version if you'd like. they can give you a longer one, where they argue for the most of it." Sirius says sarcastically, earning a small, secret pinch from Remus.

"I was trying to surprise her with our anniversary!!" he says, trying to reason for his mistake.

"Gods, you're lucky I love you." y/n says as she kisses the boy's cheek while Albus imitates gagging, earning a chuckle from the group.

"We need only a little help from you guys, then I promise we won't bother you." You say with pleading.

"Correction, she won't bother you, we will." James says, pointing at himself and Albus, who rolls his eyes.

"We just need an empty room to stay in. please!" you say, hitting james on his head, giving him a look that says shut up. the boy closes his mouth, immediately shutting up.

"we do have an empty room beside our dorm. but like it's fully empty, with no beds. nothing." Sirius says, trying to think.

you look at James and Albus, a look of glee in your eyes as you three say, "That's perfect."

"And that's not creepy at all." The other James mutters in Lily's ear, who gives him a small slap in return.

the group begins to lead you, up the stairs into a small and empty room. "Perfect." You say.

James and Albus take everyone outside, closing the door as you mutter the spell.

"domum trahere usque." (which roughly translates to house pull-up). your eyes sparkle as you notice your unfamiliar surroundings change into more familiar ones. your hand reaches towards the door, opening it.

"Come on in!" You say, opening the door as you head to your shared room with James, instantly grabbing a pair of pants and his hoodie, shuffling out of your red dress and into the comfortable clothing.

Everyone shuffles into the living room, mouth agape at how large it is. you make your way into the kitchen, getting out some sodas for everybody and placing them on the table.

"Please sit!" You say ushering them to sit as you hand them their sodas. your James and Albus run into their original rooms and change into more comfortable clothes

"h-how?" Lily asks, looking around the room.

"What spell did you use? how did you manage to create it?." Remus asks soon after

"Well, this is actually a spell I made later on in the future. it didn't take too long since I had help from my defence against the dark arts teachers' help," you say, answering everyone's questions in one go.

"oh right, we still haven't introduced ourselves," Sirius says as James and Albus walk back into the room, Albus taking the last seat on the sofa while James opts to sit with you, lifting you up and softly placing you on his lap.

you lean your head on his chest while everyone introduces themselves. Though you all know their names already, you pretend not to avoid blowing your cover.

soon after, all of them made their leave, each of them having a class to attend. you move from James' lap, opting to sit on the sofa, each one of you sucked deep into your thoughts as you abruptly stand up, causing the boys to flinch.

"we'll go to the library. find any books we can on time turners or time travel in general," you say, grabbing a house key, making your way outside the house. the boys following your lead.

upon entering the library, you split up, each of you trying to find a different book on time travel. Somehow, James finds nine books while you find three, and Albus finds eight,leaving you three with a total of 20 books to go through.

you reach for the book on the very top of the bookshelf, almost falling on your head when james catches you in his arms, smiling down on you.

"This reminding you of anything?" he says, helping you stand up again, crossing his arm around his chest, his eyes scanning you with a smirk.

"it reminds me of the time a very cocky 12-year-old boy helped me," I say with a teasing tone as I sit down, opening the book

"That's all you remember?" he says, smiling when he sits down beside you. "Because I remember you being so grateful, you stole my first kiss," he says, his smile never fading.

"it was an accident I didn't mean to." You respond, covering your face with your hands. "I was just trying to kiss your cheek." You continue. your face flushed a bright red.

"Keep telling yourself that." he responds smugly as Albus comes by, the environment immediately changing into a more serious tone, hoping to avoid a lecture for being too lovey in public.

the door of the library slams open, the four marauders entering as Remus grabs a book from the bookshelf, heading toward his table when he notices you three sitting there. seeing that you all look busy and focused, he sits at the other end and avoids making noise.

James, Sirius, and Peter run around the library, looking for their precious moony, and when they spot him with you guys. he receives a look that he doesn't mind.

"Moony, come on, we have this amazing prank to play on Severus Snake," James says, snickering as Albus flinches at the mention of his name but ignores it once you give him a soft smile.

"Nah, boys, I don't feel like it today, I might just stay here and read," he says, his eyes not once moving from his book, other than the eventual glances at you.

"What about you three? Are you in for pranking Severus?" Sirius asks, slowly warming up to you three. James' eyes meet yours at the request, filled with pleading looks.

"I'll pass, I need to finish this. but since these two aren't the greatest help. it'll be more help if they're gone." You say with a small smile as you continue to read, eventually marking things that seem important. James and Albus both stand up, giving you a tight hug and repeating thank yous.

"Go on now before I change my mind." You say smiling bigger as the five boys run outside, their laughter echoing through the hallways.

"If you'd like, I could help?" A voice speaks up, shifting your attention back to the task at hand. you look up to spot Remus, standing in front of you.

"Are you sure you want to? it's a lot of work." You say with a soft chuckle that makes Remus smile softly after hearing your laugh.

"Of course, plus, this is the one type of books of which I haven't read yet," he says, rubbing his neck. He knew he was lying. He just didn't know why. so the boy sat beside you and began reading. the silence on the table was chilling, but it was broken on occasion with your humming.

Your thoughts go to James, wondering what prank he's trying to pull off now, and you smile, imagining his big goofy smile and his laugh.

Meanwhile, Your James was with the other James, who was getting scolded by Lily for pranking her childhood friend again. the boy just looked down, and James couldn't help but chuckle. the sight reminding him of his parents.

"So!" Remus starts, breaking the silence, "tell me more about yourself," he says, crossing his arms, looking at you in the exact way Teddy does.

you pause for a moment, thinking about what to say. "Well, I'm 17 right now, and I was born on June 16th. I'm a Gemini, my favourite colour is green and I like to sleep and hang out with James. i used to knit a lot, but i sadly lost my needles and then couldn't continue." You say, not looking up from your books.

He hums in response. "What about you? Tell me about Remus Lupin," you say, finally looking at the brown-haired boy.

"I'm also 17 as of right now, I was born on 10th March 1960, my zodiac sign is a piece, and my favourite colour is blue. I like chocolate and hanging out with my friends. I really like reading as well," he says, continuing to write.

After a couple of hours, the two of you finished talking (yapping) and made notes of 6 books. which helped you speed up your process by a lot. the two of you got close enough to be considered friends.

"You really did that?" Remus says laughing as he helps you pack the notes and your quills.

"We were twelve, and I was grateful for his help, I didn't know he'd turn at the same time," you say laughing softly, grabbing the bag as the two of you walk to the common room. finding all of the boys sitting there.

James grabs your hand and takes the bag off your shoulders. He calls Albus over. "Guys, it's really late, and We're gonna go to bed now! Goodnight." James says as he grabs the house key from your bag, opening the door as he drags the two of you to the sofa

"Remus! same time tomorrow?" You say as you look back, noticing his small nod. you smile and let James drag you to the sofa.

"Jamie, it's just 9:30. Why are we going to bed so early?" You ask, looking at the boy while he starts pacing around the room, running his hands through his hair nervously.

"I was bored, and I checked our phones even though we all decided to keep them hidden," James says while Albus rolls his eyes.

"Classic james, always wanting to stalk his girlfriend's instagram even when she's with you." he says, scoffing at the stupid boy in love.

"Aww, you stalk my Instagram when you miss me? Jamie, that's adorable," you say, blushing softly but still teasing him.

"Yes, I do, but that's not the point -" he continues, "y/n that's not even the gist of his love. he has pics of you everywhere in our house," he says, making fun of the already embarrassed boy.

"Awe Jamie, you love love me, hm?" You say, a big smile on your face as he stops covering his face, though the tip of his ears turning bright red.

James takes a deep breath in. "Yes, that's all true. My point is I have a bunch of texts, and can you guess from who?" he says, looking up.

"Who?" the two of you say in sync, curious who could be texting the boy to get him this shaken.

"It's my dad. he's left at least 50 texts on each of our phones and 20 missed calls," he says.

"Say we're at my house, visiting my family. we'll be back in a week or so." You say biting your nails again.

"That should work, right?" Albus asks, looking at the two of you.

"it will."

ok, I'm done with part 3. I hope you like it xx

part four

[writtenjewels]

See No Evil part 5

[The series that got the most votes by you!]

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

The caverns felt endless; Jason had long since lost track of just how far they traveled. He slid his thumb over Salim's wrist to feel the other man's steady pulse. Salim squeezed his hand back in answer and Jason smiled. He liked how easy it was to communicate with Salim without any words. Thinking of that naturally led his mind to their kiss. Jason would have loved to dwell on it but needed his focus. Later, when they were out of here, he would kiss Salim again.

New sounds were coming from somewhere ahead of them. Jason tugged on Salim's hand so the other would stop while Jason concentrated on the noises. It wasn't the familiar clicking of those demon things. It sounded more like…

“Do you hear gunfire?” Salim asked him.

“Yep.” That meant other soldiers had fallen down here. His own team, or the Iraqis? The only way to find out would be to keep going. Jason gave Salim a nudge to encourage the other forward. As they got closer Jason could pick up on the gunfire a little better. Definitely a firefight. Then there was an explosion, the crumbling of rock, and silence. “What the fuck?” he frowned out loud.

“They're just going to attract the demons,” Salim lamented.

“Maybe they ain't seen 'em.”

“Perhaps,” Salim allowed. “Let's keep going.” Jason agreed and together they continued onward. They had only gone a few paces when Salim halted them again. “I see a soldier up ahead,” he reported.

“What's he look like?” Jason asked.

“I can only see him from the back. He's wearing a hat with a wide brim and is carrying a backpack. His weapon looks like yours.”

“Nicky,” Jason realized, relief flooding through him. At least one of his squad members had survived. “It's okay, he's one of mine. Let's go.”

“Jason, I'm not sure…”

“Trust me,” Jason assured him, and felt Salim's hand grip his in response. They approached but Jason stopped short as he caught another familiar sound. Salim's squeeze assured him the other picked up on it, too. “Where's Nick?” he hissed to Salim.

“What the fuck?” Nick's voice lifted Jason's spirit immediately. “Jason?” He felt a strong hand clap down on his shoulder. “Holy shit, man, you're okay!”

“Shh,” Jason scolded. “You wanna alert that demon?”

“The what?” Nick's hand left his shoulder and Jason realized he had also lost Salim's touch. He felt around but when his fingers bumped against a body, he sensed it was Nick's. Where was Salim? “What is that thing?” Nick gaped.

“It's a demon,” Jason answered. “Don't open fire; you'll only piss it off. Listen, we can get past it, but you gotta be quiet.”

“They can be killed,” Salim spoke up, and Jason immediately turned and reached toward the sound. He heard some shuffling as Salim moved away from his touch. Jason retracted his hand, feeling an unexpected pain in his heart. “If you distract it,” Salim went on, “I can finish it off.”

“You can't be serious,” Nick scoffed. “You expect me to trust you?”

“Just do it, sergeant,” Jason snapped. “I'll guard the rear.”

“Well, okay,” Nick agreed reluctantly.

Jason couldn't help feeling a little resentful and jealous having to sit this out. He kept his ears open but all he could make out was the clicking noises of the demon-- Nick and Salim were moving too quietly. The sound of gunfire startled him, and then he heard a roar from Salim. The demon shrieked, there was some scrambling, and silence.

“What happened?” Jason called.

“Stake through the heart,” Salim explained. “I killed one earlier the same way.”

“I gotta say, I'm impressed,” Nick admitted.

“Nicky, who else made it?” Jason asked him. There was silence for a long time before Nick answered.

“Just me and the colonel.” There was a strain in his voice. A beat of silence followed before Nick spoke again. “What about you, man? The fuck are you doing with this guy?”

“Long story,” Jason sighed. “Can you take us to the colonel? I'll explain on the way.”

“Shouldn't I at least tie him up?”

“Why?” Jason frowned. Another question met with a long silence.

“Jason,” Nick said slowly, “are you feeling okay? This guy is an Iraqi soldier. He's one of the enemy.”

[justsomestoicguy]

Close Call

"You had a quirk like that??"

I'm in absolute shock.

"Yeah. And God, does it make kissing sooo annoying," Nishiyama sighs, crossing her hands.

I know who Nishiyama is, of course.

Not just because I unknowingly made her faint during P.E. (sorry, Nishiyama-san!)

She's Hikari's best friend. Why wouldn't I know her?

But what I didn't know was the terrifying quirk she had!

It sends shivers up my spine to even think about her knowing everything about me.

So I'm apologetically but absolutely grateful Nishiyama passed out instead of getting anything out of my mind. (no offense, Nishiyama-san!)

And I think I know what caused her to faint.

My past life.

My guess is that her brain's engineered to soak in a person's life story, not stories.

She can handle absorbing multiple people's memories, but not someone who holds twice the regular amount.

But Nishiyama doesn't know that. So she keeps looking at me with those curious plum eyes, and I know the question that's coming before she even opens her mouth. 

"So, Aka-tin," she starts, leaning in, "what's the deal with your quirk? I know I've seen it in action before but I wanna know more about it."

Hikari perks up beside her. "Ooh, give us a demo, give us a demo!" she beams. 

"But don't just do objects again, please? I wanna see you use your quirk on yourself this time. It's been a while, y'know?"

I scratch the back of my neck, trying to play it cool. "Uh, sure, why not?" 

Better to keep the focus on what they already know. I don't want to dive into the whole reincarnation mess. Not like this, at least.

I walk over to our classroom's whiteboard—which seems as good a place as any to do this—and place my palm flat against it.

The familiar sensation washes over me as I activate my quirk. The surface seems to ripple under my hand, and I feel that pull, like slipping into a different layer of reality.

The girls watch, leaning forward with anticipation, as my form flattens against the whiteboard. 

I become part of the surface; a two-dimensional plane turned three-dimensional world. I turn to face them, raising a hand in a little wave. 

From their perspective, it probably looks like I'm some kind of hyper-realistic living drawing.

Inside, it's an endless, quiet void. I've never really gotten used to how strange it feels. Like being submerged in clear water, but without the wetness or pressure. 

I can see out, though, and I catch Hikari grinning while Nishiyama leans in closer, squinting at me like I'm some freaky social experiment.

I move around a bit, tracing the edges of the board. It's always weird, feeling like I'm gliding through nothingness but knowing I'm just skimming the surface from their perspective. 

I can see their lips moving, probably chatting about how strange this all is, but I can't hear them. 

Sound doesn't carry into this space, but I can still catch their laughter through the glassy barrier separating our worlds.

Huh. Maybe I should learn how to lip-read.

Soon enough, I pop back out near the bottom corner of the board, rematerializing as the dimensions snap back into place. 

The whole thing barely took a minute, but it's enough to remind me how bizarre my quirk is.

"So cool!" Hikari claps, eyes shining with excitement. "It's like you're part of a comic strip!"

Nishiyama nods, still looking a bit puzzled. "Yeah, but like… how did my quirk not work on you? Usually, I get everything from just a lick, but I got nothing and blacked out instead."

I shrug, trying to come up with something believable. "Maybe it's because my quirk's kinda like a shield? Like, I become part of the surface, so maybe it messes with how your quirk works."

It's a total lie, but it's not like I can just go and tell her: "Oh, that silly thing? No, my quirk isn't what saved me from your power, Nishiyama-san, but rather the fact that I'm a reincarnator!"

Yeah, right.

The fact that I've lived before, in a different world, with a different life, isn't exactly something I'm eager to share.

Hikari nods thoughtfully, accepting my explanation without question. "Yeah, that makes sense. I guess everyone's quirk has its own kinks, huh?"

"Totally," Nishiyama agrees, though she still looks a tad more skeptical than Hikari. "Still, it's kinda cool that your quirk does that. You'd make a killer spy, Aka-tin!"

I laugh, trying to brush off the comment. "Or a really good escape artist."

Maybe one day, I'll tell them the whole truth. But not today. Today, I'm just Ran, the guy with the odd quirk.

And to me, that's more than enough.

—

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Chapter 1

[occasionallyprosie]

Devotion - Chapter 5: "Tight Knit"

Dev has adopted the three heroes... and then runs into a rather familiar face Aka, Dev teaches Tune and Mask how to make Link question all his decisions while also providing therapy for Link... oh and he meets a certain displaced companion.

AO3 Link

Tumblr, first chapter

Link was getting better but Dev found himself keeping the two young heroes out of harms way and entertained. He taught them music as a result, Mask had an ocarina and Tune loved to sing, and he had good pitch along with tempo, so Dev taught them songs and he also started teaching them the harp.

Tune told a longwinded story about his friend Medli and her harp.

Link found them late the third night, Tune had given up on the harp mostly out of sleepiness and Mask was determined to get the song that Dev was teaching them correct.

"That sounded a lot better," Mask said, a bit happier. Dev saw Link approach and noticed him tense, his eyes narrowed as well. "What's the next chord?"

"What's going on here?" Link questioned and Mask startled. Tune startled up at the voice.

"Captain! You're okay!" Tune exclaimed. Mask visibly relaxed but he still rolled his eyes and huffed.

"About time you got up," Mask grumbled.

"Hey now, Link's been recovering," Dev chided, partially having to force himself to do so.

"That's Captain Link. I'm sorry, do I know you?" Link demanded, a bit sharper than necessary.

Tune laughed, Mask gave Link an incredulous look though he was suppressing a smirk.

Dev looked over his shoulder at him. "Quite frankly, I could not care less about titles. And even if I did, I very much outrank you in every possible sense of the word. I'm not sure though, boys. Do you think he knows me?"

"Maybe he hit his head harder than we thought," Mask deadpanned.

Tune cackled.

Dev stood up. He was decently shorter than Link, he didn't mind that much though.

"Dev, at your service, Master Link," he bowed extravagantly before flashing a shocked Link a smirk. "And if you'd like to know, yes, I do outrank you, mainly in experience. Though," he propped an arm on Mask's head, "the boys also outrank you when it comes to heroic experience, so that's not saying much."

Tune was in hysterics, rolling on the ground. Link gaped in surprise and even Mask couldn't pretend to be unbothered as he broke and laughed a bit.

"So, are you going to join us?" Dev gestured to the open area. "I was teaching them how to play the harp."

Link blinked. "Uhh... How is that conducive to the war effort?"

Dev shot Link a sharp look. "It's not. It's encouraging hobbies and keeping the arts alive in a time it's so desperately needed... Come on, sit down. The Sapling here is getting pretty good, you should listen."

Link hesitated but Mask quickly grabbed the harp Dev loaned him — the Harp of Ages, long incapable of using the temporal magic that it was filled with — and sat back down. Tune grinned and tugged Link down to sit.

Dev smiled softly as Mask plucked away at the harp, the song of the hero thrumming into their area of the camp. He was good with music, Dev noted, and seemed a bit at peace while doing it. He glanced at Link, and the plain scarf around his neck.

An idea hit him.

Mask finished the song perfectly. Link clapped and Tune whistled.

Link easily encouraged the kid and Tune jumped up to praise him. Mask definitely preened a bit.

"Here."

Link startled as Dev dropped bundles of yarn onto his lap along with knitting needles.

"What is this?" He demanded, more confused than anything.

"Link," Dev knelt in front of the teenager, "you need to do something that lets young unwind, that lets you disconnect from the war effort. Not every moment has to be dedicated to it, especially not when we are here at the castle, when you don't have any responsibilities at the moment, and you have so much time to kill."

"I should be training."

"No, you should be taking a break. Take it from me, a break is always worth it." Dev pressed a pair of knitting needles into Link's hand. "So I'm going to teach you how to knit, unless you have something else that has nothing to do with fighting that you'd like to learn."

Link rolled his eyes. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

"Nope."

He groaned. "Fine. Fine! How do I knit?"

Dev sat him down and started coaching him through knitting. Despite Link entering it with a clear intention to hate it, Dev smirked a bit as Link began to focus on it and really get lost in it. He leaned back and let Link go at it.

He had been helping the young hero train for a while, but he knew as well as anyone else that everyone needed hobbies outside of their jobs.

Some time later, when the time was safe and opportune, the kids struck.

Dev called at them. "Go! Go!"

"Tune! Mask!" Link roared. Tune ran and climbed onto Dev's shoulders. Mask ran up to them too and Dev scooped him up, kicking off the ground and floating in the air out of Link's reach.

Link glared daggers at them. 

"I thought you were more responsible than that, Dev! Get down here right now! All three of you—and give me back my scarf!"

"Sorry, Link! No can do!" Tune cackled, waving his pilfered scarf in the air. 

A scarf that Dev had handmade —knitted— while sitting with Link and knitting together with him, it was a dark blue just like his other one but with an embroidered Hyrulean crest and golden tassels. 

Mask stuck his tongue out, clinging to Dev's neck.

"Not until you promise to get some sleep," Dev called down in a taunting, singsong tone. He added in a telepathic link, "It's been seven hours since the last fight, that lasted five hours, you were up exactly 6.2 hours before it began, and have yet to sleep since! You also have only had two meals, only one of which you managed to finish half of. Is this really the example you're going to set for the boys?"

Link scowled. "Get. Down."

"Promise!" Mask ordered him, wriggling and Dev helped him rearrange so he was just hanging from Dev's hands. "You haven't slept in days, I swear!"

"Fine! Fine. Just get down from there!"

"Promise?" Tune insisted.

Link sighed heavily. "Promise."

Dev hummed and then he let them drop down, setting Mask down first and then letting Tune climb down. Mask took the scarf and he marched up to Link.

Link crossed his arms.

Mask threw the scarf up, managed to wrap most of it around Link's head, and proceeded to drag him toward his tent cursing out the Captain about his sleep schedule and how stupid he was for letting it happen.

Dev chuckled. "Go on," he told Tune. "Go join them and get some sleep."

Tune hesitated, looking after them almost longingly, but not quite. "I... Can I?"

Dev furrowed his eyebrows and knelt down. "What do you mean? Of course you can."

"No—Link likes Mask," Tune said softly, watching them disappear into the tent. "They..." he chuckled, "they're like brothers."

"You know you're in that too."

"Not as much. Yeah, Link treats me like his little brother sometimes, same he does to Mask, but it's not the same. And then Mask... I know he looks up to me, but it's not like Aryll, he looks at Link like Aryll does for me. I'm... Link is... I don't think I really compete, with either of them."

"So you're the middle child." Dev tugged Tune's hair lightly and made Tune look at him. "That doesn't make you less their brother. That just means that you get the best of both worlds. Of course Link dotes more on Mask, he's younger and frankly, considering what we do know about his childhood, that kid needs it." Tune snorted and nodded his agreement. "For Mask, there's a larger difference between him and Link than you two, he wants to connect to him and so while you two just get along innately, as much as brothers do, he has to push for Link because there's just that age gap. Plus, Link's bigger and I'm sure you get the benefit of being able to hide behind someone bigger than you."

Tune sighed softly and nodded. "I know... You're right. I'm not excluded or anything, it's just..."

Dev softened. He put his hand on Tune's shoulder. "Come on, bunso. We got Link to go to bed, now it's your turn."

Tune blinked, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looked at Dev in surprise.

"What did you call me?" He asked, voice small and hesitant.

"Bunso," Dev repeated, a small smile forming on his face. He knew a bit of the island language Tune spoke innately, he hadn't realized it was the one he knew until Tune started cursing in it.

Tune's eyes welled up with tears as he quickly fell against Dev's chest, clutching his top. "You speak..." he mumbled into his chest, most of his sentence lost to mumbling. 

Dev hummed softly, holding Tune close. "I do. I speak a lot of languages."

When Tune clung to him tightly, he resigned himself and picked him up easily. He went to the kid's tent that he apparently shared with a few other displaced people, an imp called Midna that Fi knew, and probably the new one that he heard mentioned but never caught the name of. He hadn't paid attention and no, Fi, he didn't need to know. He'd find out later when Tune decided it was time to introduce him.

As Tune had a tendency of doing. He'd insistently introduced Dev to Midna and Linkle so far the moment he learned he hadn't met them.

Tune was very easy to just hold, Dev discovered. Midna saw them come in and she snickered.

"Getting adopted, Tunie?" She teased quietly, pointing to a bed.

Tune flipped her off, not yet asleep and Midna cackled.

Dev tried to just lay Tune down but the kid was strong and clingy.

"Stay please?" He asked him quietly.

Dev rolled his eyes but he laughed softly, he had such a weak spot for kids... they deserved to have someone have a weak spot for them. He pulled a thick purple cloak from his pouch and wrapped Tune in it with him. It was far more comfortable than the scratchy military blankets and Tune curled into his lap. He was so small, Dev noted fondly as he carded a hand through his hair and hummed a quiet ballad that once upon a time would've put him to sleep. Tune drifted off fairly quickly, Dev knew the kid also didn't sleep since the battle and had stayed awake all through the exhausting thing.

"You know, the new guy kinda looks like you," Midna said, her scratchy voice a bit quieter now. "He's a bit skittish. I don't think he's shown anyone but me his face yet. Twi-Lo' solidarity and all that."

"I'll meet him eventually," Dev assured. "I won't rush anyone."

"Kinder than most," she muttered loudly. "I'm going out for the night, be back later."

Dev waved with his free hand and Midna left. He rearranged his position with Tune, happy to just let the kid cling.

The fabric of the tent door rippled as someone else entered.

Dev looked up and he froze, meeting viridian eyes that were mirrors of his own amethyst ones. Black to his once blond but currently violet hair.

Ravio stared at him, eyes narrowed as he finished pushing back his hood.

Next>>

[heartbreak-sandwich]

CHAPTER ONE: TRAX

NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI

Part Two when you're ready to read on 💕

Chapter One is SFW content (though later there WILL be NSFW content, therefore, the 18+ label) - you'll be introduced to a little bit of background info and established relationships but this is just a teensy taste so far!

A/N: So I'm *FINALLY* writing my first long-winded fic, and here is Part One!! I have some really fun plans for it, and I don't necessarily have a title yet, but I will keep all of the parts in a master list as they come out. This part along with the first five (or so) will probably just be setting up some background and story so pls bear with me. Check the tags for some hints on what more will come! I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much for reading, and I love you sm!!!

SEPTEMBER 1985

“Shit,” you said blankly, clapping your alarm clock, realizing that was your third alarm, and you would be late for work if you didn’t move right then. Rolling out of bed, you grabbed your crumpled high-waisted jeans off the floor and tugged them on. Right leg, left leg, and flop – back down on your bed to do the tight jeans maneuver. After writhing and tugging for a good thirty seconds, you were buttoning them up and eyeing your closet to choose a top as quick as possible. You sloppily pulled on a Judas Priest tee with cut sleeves, grabbed your pre-packed bag, and burst through the front door with purpose, as ready as you’d ever be to make your way to the shop.

Barry was on the precipice of retirement, and you knew exactly what he was going to say when you slid through the door with just a minute to spare before clock-in time: “Hey, kid, if you’re going to run this show, you’ve gotta at least make it in by soundcheck.” It was the same speech he’d been giving you for the past three weeks.

Trax was the best place to buy, sell, trade, and discover music in Hawkins, Indiana. You frequented the music shop all throughout Freshman year, and Barry finally decided to offer you a part-time job after overhearing you recommend and discuss music with some of his customers. Nowadays, you worked full shifts after your high school graduation, and soon enough, this store would be all yours – that is, if you could manage to make it to work on time at least somewhat consistently.

You wrenched the door open, the familiar chime of the bells causing Barry to peek from around one of the racks and roll his eyes. “Hey, kid –”

“I know, I know. Late for soundcheck, sorry. I’ll be in sooner tomorrow, I promise.”

“Sure, sure. Grab the cart from the back and start stacking. We have another shipment coming in tomorrow, and everything needs to be out on the shelves before closing.” You did as Barry asked, wheeling the heavy metal cart out into one of the aisles and filing the cellophane-wrapped vinyls away in their respective places, your mind wandering between greeting customers and helping with the odd question while you continued filing album after album.

You had finally reached the lunch hour of your workday, and right on time, Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington made their entrance into Trax. You caught the tail end of their bickering as they bobbed and weaved through customers and racks, looking for where you could be hiding.

“I’m just saying I don’t get it. They had a sword, and a bow, and an axe, and, like, a bunch of dudes. Why didn’t they just charge in there and throw the ring into the mountain or whatever?”

“One does not simply walk into Mordor, Steve. And they’re no match for an entire orc army. That’s like us thinking it would be cool and easy to stroll into a Russian military base with our Hellfire party and a D20 and take over.” Eddie was talking with his hands, and Steve was rolling his eyes. You knew this argument wouldn’t die without intervention.

“I’m over here, guys,” you called from the M through P aisle.

“Hey, there she is!” Eddie skipped his way over to you, Steve following close behind. “What’s on the setlist for tonight?” You and Eddie had played in Corroded Coffin for years, and as far as you could remember, he had never retained a single setlist.

“I wrote down an extra copy for you.” You dug around in your bag and finally pressed a piece of paper to his chest. You had grown accustomed to this ritual, and Eddie was always overexpressing his gratitude for it.

“I am, as usual, forever in your debt,” he said, taking a dramatic, low bow causing Steve to step backwards into a customer.

“Sorry about that,” Steve said to the mystery man. “My friend here has the spatial awareness of a drunk octopus.” Steve turned around and instantly sighed, eyes rolling into the catacombs of his skull, when he realized who he had backed into. “What are you doing here?”

Billy Hargrove just smirked and stared back at Steve, physically biting his tongue. He didn’t want to spat with Harrington here in front of everyone, especially now that he was taking his best shot at redemption. He thought for a few more seconds before replying, “Don’t sweat it. Accidents happen.” An awkward silence loomed over all of you before Eddie finally piped up.

“Well, we’d better be going. As much as I always enjoy these reunions, we have some very urgent business to attend to.” Billy exhaled audibly, looking down at the ground and clenching his jaw. The three of you turned and made your way out of the aisle and toward the front door, bell jingling as you all exited single file in search of a quick bite to eat.

Billy didn’t know how to apologize yet, but he would find a way. The skepticism was understandable, and he knew he had to be patient, but where did he start? Max would know. He sauntered toward the shop door and out into the parking lot, pulling open the door to his blue Camaro and lighting a cigarette. He swung out of his parking space and peeled down the main road, revving his engine as he passed the three of you contentedly trekking along the sidewalk, obviously lost deep in conversation, laughing, smiling, you punching Eddie’s shoulder in jest.

He wanted to know what it was like to have friends, to have that trust and closeness with people, and he knew that after the events of that summer, The Party was his only real chance because no one else would understand. He thought about how to approach the subject with Max once she returned home. Just because she had forgiven him didn’t mean anyone else would, but he was hopeful, and he was willing to do whatever it took.

[jiabeewrites]

Some Things Are Meant To Be

Aroace!Cassandra Cain x GN!Aroace!Reader

APOLOGIES FOR BEING GONE AND STUFF-

But I just listened to a GORGEOUS cover of Can't Help Falling In Love and now I need Cass x reader but a qpr. So. That's what you get now. Because I am a SIMP for aroace cass. This could definitely be read as a romantic pairing...but I headcanon Cass as aroace/aspec, therefore the pairing between the reader and Cass is a qpr.

Have some fluffy moments with cass!

(black bat/orphan aesthetic made by @aesthetics-and-fuckery, aka me. Do not steal!)

HOW TO READ: Each set of lyrics is kinda like a divider! each section of words/blurb between the lyrics are their own story, and this particular piece has multiple little moments. Definitely timeskips. You can find more stories like this one by looking under the tag #ryn writes songfics (I HAVE MORE COMING BE PATIENT)

CW: reader is in law school, reader's vigilante name is Echo (echolocation, bats, idk), lack of romance, swearing, pining, lack of y/n, reader is wearing a tux but everybody looks hot in a tux so that's what i put

Wise men say Only fools rush in But I can't help falling in love with you

You stood in the doorway, and that's where you saw her. Smiling with her family, looking happier than ever.

Jason came up behind you.

"Looking for something?" He asked, grinning knowingly. You just shook your head, smiling.

"She's perfect, Jason, and I'm...me." He chuckled.

"Look, you either need to keep pining unromatically for the rest of your life, or grow a pair and straight up tell her. Pardon the expression." You laughed, and then looked at your best friend.

"You sure, Jay?"

"Oh I'm sure, Your Honor."

The two of you walked over and joined the group. You sat down sat down next to her, and squeezed her hand.

Shall I stay? Would it be a sin If I can't help falling in love with you?

Your weekly study session was over, and just as Cass was about to leave the library, you did either very bold or very stupid. Probably both.

"Hey, um, Cass?"

She turned around to look at you.

"I know you're aroace, but...um, hoco's coming up in a few weeks, and I was wondering if you'd wanna go with me?"

To your surprise, she grinned and nodded.

"I'd love to go with you."

Like a river flows Surely to the sea Darling, so it goes Some things are meant to be

You figeted with the hem of your blazer, and finally worked up the nerves to ring the doorbell.

Alfred's warm smile greeted you.

"You look lovely, my dear."

"Thanks, Al."

And then you saw her.

The light hit her dress so that she looked like a goddess, and her hair, which was usually down, was styled in a half-up-half-down look. She was wearing the rings that you'd given her the last time all of you went to Pride.

She walked over to you and smiled.

"You look...great."

"So do you."

Then the boys burst your moment and started clapping, wolf-whistling and other obnoxious things.

"Oh, god," you muttered. She laughed, took your hand and led you to the door.

Take my hand Take my whole life, too For I can't help falling in love with you

The stares of a million eyes bored into you. Some jealous, others disgusted, and some simply facinated.

But one squeeze blew them all away.

"Ignore them. Not worth your time."

You smiled at her, thankful for the distraction.

Like a river flows Surely to the sea Darling, so it goes Some things are meant to be

Three years later, the familiar chords of a song started to play, and you looked across the table and smiled at her.

"May I have this dance, milady?"

She laughed at your dramatics, and nodded.

As the two of you swayed, you realized something.

"Cass?"

"Mm?"

"I think I love you."

She laughed, then pressed her lips to your forehead.

"I love you, too."

Take my hand Take my whole life, too For I can't help falling in love with you For I can't help falling in love with you