#every day may be a small battle but ya know what

[xxchaosjojoxx]

Hi :)

I have always loved law since his first appearance in the anime.

May I ask for a law x Reader but reader is an absolute GREAT at lying. Like they lie all the time and no one would know it was a lie due to specific things that aren't exactly related to the lie but was somehow a "proof" that it was believable. It even fooled Law himself.

Reader is always so happy, like always smiling and cheerful and everything. But with a really constructed lie, a smile isn't always real.

You get what I mean?

Most lies I was talking about was:

"I ate dinner" for example.

Reader didn't actually eat but can be proven to because 1, reader could have planned to "eat" later due to "work" when in reality, they just planned to go inside the lunch room for a few moments and made sure someone saw so they'd have an alibi.

So basically, it's based on alibis and statements that make said lie true.

A/N: Thanks so much for your request. I had an idea in my mind and suddenly it went dark/angst. I hope it is still to your liking and I’m not sure if I should do a second part to add some fluff like I had originally planned.

Lies

You were the sunshine on and inside the Polar Tang. With your bright smile, you could earn a lot of happy smiles and joyful words whenever you enter a room. No one would ever think that this was a facade. That all of this would be a lie. Even your captain would call anyone crazy who would think not of a bunch of sunshine whenever you are around.

Your skills as a thief back in the day are kinda handsy. You are quick and precise when it comes to battle. With your radiant presence and this bright smile paired with those big soft eyes it was easy to gain a lot of free supplies and goodies, whenever your duty was to go shopping. You joined the Heart pirates after stealing some things from Penguin and Shachi nearly 4 months ago. Sadly you couldn’t escape the blue orb nor the teleportation as this man, now your captain, Trafalgar Law was grabbing you with a smirk on his face. You had skill, this might come in handy for sure. That was his reason to let you join his crew. The fact that you would probably lose your head was not an option back there. He was intimidating but handsome. You would be a fool to not follow an attractive man.

The life you had back there was a life you wished to erase forever.

As a foster kid some adults used you for stealing. Kids are small, they can hide better, right?

Over the years you could perfect your stealing skills and one more skill. To lie. Whenever you trembled, whenever you where crying or doing not exactly what they told you, they would hurt you, torture you. You had to learn to lie, because you needed to survive. You had to lie to yourself, that all of this wouldn’t be your whole life. That you would find something better for sure someday. Then you met the heart pirates, they all welcomed you like a family. And even though you showed them your brightest smile, your happiest face, the loudest laugh, you were still aware of them. This is not real. They will use you when they get a chance. Don’t trust them. All of this was repeating in your head every now and then. No one knew what you were hiding because no one suspected anything.

The first time Law suspected something was not too long ago. He worked a lot today and went to the kitchen, to get a snack as he passed you. “You ok, y/n-ya? You look pale? Did you eat anything?”

You were looking at him, giving him a bright smile. “Hey Captain. Of course. I ate dinner already. I just ate too much, maybe that’s why.”

He looked at you with a stern look. “Ok don’t overwork yourself.”

“Aye aye Captain.” and with that you left him. Only after he entered the kitchen and saw the dish, he knew something was off.

Law saw Shachi and Penguin sitting at the table, talking and laughing. “Was Y/N in here?”

They looked at him. “Yeah, she just left with a plate in her hand. She has too much work to do, so she wanted to eat in her room.” The red haired said and Law tilted his head in confusion. “I just saw her, and she didn’t even have a plate in her hand.”

Bepo entered the kitchen from behind. “Oh she gave me the plate earlier. Said I should eat it. She had too much earlier and put way more on the plate for her to finish.”

“I see.” With this Law grabbed a snack and returned to his office with a bad feeling.

He was reading some paperwork as he took a bite from his snack. His mind was wandering back to you. It felt off. Did you really have dinner? The fact that you filled your plate with food and the fact why you didn’t have it when he met you earlier, it all was reasonable. But something was still weird. Would you lie to him? You had no reason for it. But remembering the food, he knew that Shachi was in charge of cooking today and he also knew that Shachi used some spices especially one you didn’t even like. There was no way you wouldn’t notice it and there was also no way that you would eat it to the point you would grab another plate. He hid his face in his hands and was remembering every situation with you in it since you joined. There was never an occasion that he would feel like this. Without even realizing he went towards the storage room, knowing you were on duty today, to write down what else you would need when you dock on the next island.

You stand there with a pencil and a little book in your hands, taking notes. As you felt his presence you turned around to see your captain and smiled at him. “Hey Captain. Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah, can you give me your hand for a second please? I need to confirm something.”

With a confused look you reached your right hand towards him, his warm hands were cupping your own and you could feel a light blush on your face.

“What exactly do you confirm?” You gulped and were looking at him.

“I thought I saw something earlier.” He had not enough time to think of anything clever.

“Do you feel better now? You know because of your second plate of food today.”

He had to concentrate on your heartbeat, on your pulse.

You were looking at him even more confused. “Yes, thank you.”

He squeezed your hand a little tighter. If people lie, their heartbeat, pulse and the breath would give them away, but everything was normal. Not even a slight change. But he knew that you didn’t have another plate. You gave it to Bepo. “Didn’t you give it to Bepo?”

He was staring at you. You felt a little shiver as he was staring at you with this cold look.

"Yeah, I did. I thought I could eat more, but then I felt sick so I gave it to Bepo instead.” Again you were smiling. You didn’t even have to think long enough or even stutter. Your answer was way too perfect. Even if you were telling him the truth, you wouldn’t answer as fast as possible.

“Did you ever lie to us?”

You shook your head and your eyes were wide. “What? No, why should I?”

“Tell me the truth.”

“I do. I never lied to you or anyone else on this ship.”

You were looking at him in determination and in this moment knew, he wouldn’t get the answer out of you.

He knew something was off but he couldn’t prove it. Just his gut feeling wouldn’t be enough.

He let go of your hand. “I’m sorry. I'll let you finish your work.” Law was about to leave the room as he turned his head towards you.

“You can trust us, you know? I know that your past was hard, but you are safe now. If you wanna talk with anyone about anything, do it please.”

Law could see a small nod coming from you. “Of course I do, captain. I already trust you. Thanks for checking on me.” You showed him a big grin and Law couldn’t help but feel this bad feeling inside him to blossom. Now that he felt off he couldn’t help but wonder, if those smiles of yours and your shining personalities are fake. What about you is real? What is a lie? He was determined to find the truth from this day on.

[rorichuu]

Hello Rori!! <33

May I request Sniper, Medic and.. hmm, maybe Scout or Pyro with comforting the reader?

To be more precise, if it's alright:

Reader is sweet and always trying to keep everyone happy as well as the vibes up around the base- always making sure everyone is appreciated and cared for, but maybe they're starved for affection themselves? Maybe they're afraid of being too overbearing or 'bugging' everyone. So one day they go up to (merc) and ask if they're being too much and that's when they get comforted? Maybe some comfort cuddles and such- whatever you think suits the character!

A drabble would be preffered, please!

-@simp999 ♡

(Also, thank you for being so kind and sweet to interact with!! I'm so glad I found your blog- lots of respect for all the effort put in as well!)

shy away ; mercs x reader

pairing: sniper/medic/scout x gn!reader

authors note: hello! and thank you!! your words mean soso much, i love this ask!! - also i apologize for posting so late :(

disclaimer: none! pure fluff, mentions of spy/engi in scout's. :)

SNIPER:

The battle neared its end, BLU considerably pushed back this time around and it was unbearably visible. Y/n was shooting around; running up to any merc who needed the assistance they needed. Sniper took a seat at the table in the rec room, observing you. You had just gotten water for Heavy and were conversing with Demo, his slurred mouth pouting from their loss as you kindly spoke praises to lift his mood.

Of course, everyone noticed how sweet and considerate you were, it was your best trait... and they appreciated you deeply for it. But Sniper had always wondered if you had been taken care of all the same.

As the room began to file out, you let out a heavy sigh, knowing you did the best you could. Sniper stood, making you turn your head; you send a smile at him. "Didn't notice you were here," you say. Sniper nods, sending a small smile in return. "I have some water I grabbed from the supply room. I know today was... rough. Is there anything that you need?" You asked with your eyes pointed up with question. The New Zealander shook his head, shifting the rifle on his shoulder.

"No, roo. I'm alright," With his head tilted down, he about walked off before you opened your mouth; the sound of you shifting your shoe against the pavement lifted his ears. Sniper looked behind him, eyes on yours. You stood small, shoulders low, and eyes the sweetest he's seen. His eyebrows furrowed now. "Well, on with it then..." He spoke, turning his body to you.

"Am I too much sometimes?" Sniper was caught off guard by this. "Like, when I'm always checking it... I can understand if it's annoying or overbearing when I'm always asking." With every word you spoke, Sniper felt his heart sink just a little bit more. The team needed someone like you. They needed your tender heart when the battle was unforgiving. Your gentle hand when the rough of the gun scarred and tore theirs. They needed someone like you.

Sniper huffed, walking over as he placed both hands on your shoulders, leaning to meet your eyes. "You've never been," you gulped, feeling your cheeks warm. "You mean more to this team than ya' believe, mate." You dip your head to hide your face, Sniper smiles before wrapping his arms around you.

"This is… nice." You laughed as you melted in his hold, comfort washing over you.

"You deserve the care and attention just as much as we do."

. . .

And as time passed, he rubbed your back as you held him. Frequently, he'd sway, but only to find your eyes closed. Sniper then took that as his cue, one hand on your shoulder and the other taking his hat off. The Aussie laid it on top of your head, leaving you looking up at him.

"Let’s go watch a movie.”

MEDIC:

You were helping Medic pick up, politely asking where goes where and what does what... curiosity always found in the dusted books and pristine tools that scatter his room. It was nearing the end of the day; time had settled and nearly everyone was asleep. The clock is sung at 12AM, letting you know it is time for you to head to bed as well.

You have always helped clean up and provide assistance to those who need it... especially with Miss Pauling. Always lending out a hand when it's needed. The day was long, the mercs were exhausted, and you sure as hell were too... but you could always get sleep the next coming hour, right?

Medic let out a hefty sigh with a rub at his temples, your instincts kicked in. "Medic?" You hummed in question, the man looking up with tired eyes.

"Ja?" His voice croaked, his eyebrows now raised with inquiry. As you started to place his surgical tools neatly on his steel table, you began:

"Are you alright?" You look up at him, and the man huffs a small smile. His, then leaned stance, against his operation table was left to approach you.

"Yes, mein freund," (my friend) he puts a hand on your shoulder as he takes the rest of his tools from you. "Go get some rest. You need your 8 hours!" He chirped despite his sluggish posture, not convincing you enough. You noticed the eyebags that slumped, the movements that slowed, the yawns that escaped... undeniably, he was tired.

"Well... what about you?" You ask, leaving Medic slightly confused as he turns his shoulder, glasses falling to the tip of his nose.

"How do you mean, Y/n?" You take a deep breath and cross your arms. Medic raises an eyebrow, his free hand pushing his spectacles up to their original place.

"You should get some sleep... I can pick up the rest. I know it's been a tough week, so I can help!" and in response, Medic's lip quirks humorously. "Really, I can!" As much as you try to persuade him, he doesn't budge.

"I know you can," fondly, he looks at you. "But doctor's rules, Y/n." He walks past you and continues to aid to his unkept office. You were left biting your lip, hands clasped together in front of you as you continued to let your mind race. Perhaps you were pushing Medic towards something he didn't want? Maybe he was annoyed with your continuous advances of lifting the heavy load of his job... what were you to say about what he can and cannot do?

With a knitted brow, your mouth gapes open with the intention to speak. "Hey," you nearly whispered, intimidated by your own question. The German man's head pops out from his desk, a small 'Ja?', making you aware of his reply. "Am I too much sometimes?"

"Wie bitte?" (Excuse me?) Medic, caught off guard entirely, lifts from the floor with his palms leaned against his workspace. You swallowed hard, his tone higher than usual.

"Like... when I try to help or ask if you're doing alright," you timidly voiced. "I understand how it can be draining with my constant check-ups and stuff." The doctor sent you a small smile, whether you saw it or not with your chin tucked close to your chest... he let out a laugh, walking towards you with both hands now placed on your shoulders. You look up at him, cheeks flushed with his sudden hold.

"As a doctor, nobody checks up on me. I'm always delighted by your check-ups, Liebling." With every word he spoke, your lip curled into a pout, your heart softening. Medic patted your head. "You always do the best you can for everyone, but remember to take care of yourself, ja?" Suddenly, Medic is met with a breath-losing hug. Though his chuckle is shallow, his arms wrap around you just as tightly.

"Thank you."

"No," he shakes his head, hands now cupping your face. "Thank you!" He cheeses, leaving you a small laughing fit of his big smile. "You're help is always deeply appreciated, schatz." (Treasure).

Coo

"Ooh, even Archimedes thinks so!"

SCOUT:

Scout was... undeniably, very beat up. He groaned and whined as you gently pressed alcohol swabs against his injuries upon his arm. "Ow! Y/n, is this really necessary?" You sighed, throwing the swab in the trash and retrieving a large bandaid in turn.

"Yes, Scout... I can't have you getting infections or something, it's a pretty big gash," You spoke as you placed the wrap on the lower part of his elbow. "I can't have you whining all hurt like this."

"And Scout, please keep drinking your water."

The man scowled as he took a large sip from his cup, the swirly straw found from the back of the cabinet in the kitchen. (Scout likes the swirly straw, wink wink... but tell no one.)

. . .

As time passed, and Scout continuously cursed at the sting of the alcohol... he was finally all patched up. You lifted from your arched position, back cracking as you stretched. "Alright, you're done." You huff in exhaustion. This boy knows no boundaries when it comes to the battlefield...

The Boston boy leaped from the couch and placed his cup down, water splashing out with a plat; Scout was thankful he was done. "Are you feeling okay? If not I can get some painkillers, I bet Medic has some..."

"Y/n! C'mon man, I'm good!" His balled fist hits your shoulder playfully, rolling his eyes as he checks out the bandaids on his arm. "Stop worryin' over little ol' me, it'll save you from getting greys... take Spy for example! He's just as bad as Engi being a helicopter mom... god, how did they even become a thing."

You chuckled softly, hand holding your shoulder as you listened to him ramble on again. For as long as he talked, he hadn't realized you weren't listening, your eyes spacing off. The boy tilted his head. "Y/n?" ... "Y/n!" Your head perked up at the sound of your name.

"Hm? Yeah?" You hummed. Scout read you like a book; your hand placed at your shoulder, spacing off, sad face... that's 'anxious Y/n face'; he somethin' was up.

"You good? You seem kinda off." He asked, furrowed eyebrows as he leaned forward... arms crossed as he looked you over to see if anything was upsetting you.

You shook your head, waving a hand as you backed away. "Oh, yeah! I'm good, just. Oh, just thinking." You turned and immediately started to pick up the first-aid supplies and his half-finished cup. But before you could lift the glass from the table, Scout's hand surrounded yours to keep the cup where it was.

"Talk to me."

Scout was a sweet boy. He may talk a lot, and may not think much of what he says... but when he knows when to listen, he does. You take a deep breath, pulling your hand away from his. "Do you ever get annoyed by me? Genuinely..." You ask, biting the inside of your cheek nervously. Scout blinked.

"Huh?!"

"Well, you know what I mean!" You exclaim in response, shrugging. "Y'know I'm always making sure you're alright and if you need anything... people can get annoyed when I'm always checking in." You frown, and Scout places his hands on his waist now before approaching you.

"Which people?" He asks and you tilt your head.

"Wha-?" Your nose scrunches in confusion.

"Which people find you annoying when you check up on 'm?" There was a moment of silence, your head slowly lowering in thought. The boy lifted his hand and tapped your chin, motioning for you to look at him. "Y'know I'd beat them up in a millisecond if someone said somethin'!" With a swift lift of his arm, he flexed. You huff, worry still washed over you. Scout eased up, turning to slump down on the couch. He patted the seat next to him. "C'mon, sit."

You sighed and followed, sitting down next to him, only to have an arm wrapped around your shoulders... You were now leaning completely against him. Scout shook you slightly. "You really don't know, do ya?" he finally speaks, your head turned to look at him. You blink. "Oh boy..."

"'Oh, boy,' what!" You frown, your heart picking up a pace as you tense in his hold. The Boston boy chuckled.

"Everybody loves your help!" He chimes, looking up at you brightly. "You remember the other day when Pyro was yabberin' off about something?" "Yeah..."

"They were upset because they messed something up on their drawing. They immediately thought of you, Y/n." Your heart begins to warm.

"Oh, and Spy needed your help on whatever the hell he was doing. Kept saying, 'Where's Y/n? Where's Y/n?' It was like he was a broken record, pfft, embarrassing."

"That was... you, Scout." Your lip curls into a smile, and Scout blushes.

"Well, whatever! Moral of the story," he waves his hands in a dramatic flare. You chuckle. "People love ya! And we're always there for you as you are for us." He pats your shoulder as you lean against him once more. "But that also means you gotta take care of yourself too... you're just as important. Ya always will be."

Sniffle.

"Aaalright, c'mere," swiftly, Scout grabs the blanket from the arm of the couch, wrapping you up. "Take a nap, Y/n. You deserve it."

And you did. With a warm heart and a proud Scout, life was pretty good.

.

.

.

rorichuu!

[flamingo-writes]

Leather and Lipstick — Hobie Brown x Reader

@inthishousewestanencanto requested: “Hi! May I ask for a Hobie request? Some possible smut if that's something you write? If not, him making the reader their own battle jacket?”

A/N: i took more than I thought writing this, but I also intended to write a fix half this length. I also merged both things in one, and I feel kinda proud of it. I hope you enjoy it 😩

Genre: fluff, smut.

Word count: 1.8K

Warnings: smut of course. Not proof read.

Hobie Brown was tall. And he was skinny. Granted, he had superhuman strength, could lift an entire bus if he wanted. But he was naturally a skinny guy. His muscles were toned, but not ridiculous toned to make him look like a dehydrated model. He was proportionally toned, muscles buff enough to make him look irresistible to you. Small waist, narrow shoulders.

And it was precisely his thin complexion what allowed him to fit into your clothes. Just like you could fit and drive him crazy wearing his clothes, he could do the exact same thing to you.

He especially loved stealing and wearing a dark red leather jacket you owned. It always smelled like you. It was soft. And you always left random trinkets in the pockets. Sometimes it was your lipstick, sometimes it was your earrings, sometimes it was the tiny origami animals you did with post it notes when you got bored at work. He loved exploring the pockets of your jacket, he never knew what he was going to find.

One time you tipped the inside of the pocket by mistake. Hobie could almost hear the sound of your heart breaking as you said how your favourite jacket was in her last moments, as the insides were starting to rip, the edges were starting to look worn and the paint was starting to fall off. It had been with you for the best part of almost ten years. And you’d found it in a secondhand store. Who knew how long had that jacket really have.

Hobie made it his mission to patch up and fix your jacket before your birthday.

“Man, I’m gonna try and fix it, but I don’t think she has that much life left in her…” You said.

“I’ll do it,” Hobie said with a nonchalant shrug as he started thinking of all the things he could actually do with your jacket.

You didn’t hear nor see your jacket for months. You started forgetting about it, only nostalgically remembering you once had a gorgeous scarlet jacket when you saw pictures of you wearing it. But knew Hobie was actively keeping it secret, as he never told you how it was going. You knew it was going good from the cheeky grin he gave you every time you asked.

The next time you saw it wa shack at Hobie’s place after the night out you had with your friends. You went to a bar, talked and drank for hours. And it was around four a.m. when you left back to your place. Awake as if it was barely 11 p.m. you walked into his place. His hand on your waist as he pushed you against the wall and kissed you between giggles.

You didn’t even try to resist Hobie as you kissed him back and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, standing on your tiptoes. His snaked around your waist as he pressed his body against yours. You moaned sweetly into his lips.

He pulled away from the kiss, leaving you hot and bothered as you glanced at him.

“I’ve still got one last surprise for ya,” He said in a low purr.

“God, Hobie, you’ve already given me a wonderful day with my boyfriend, a fantastic evening with my friends, you know, I’m still kinda expecting birthday sex, but what else can you possibly give me? You’ve already given me everything,” You chuckled, following him as he walked into his room.

“Oh, you’re gonna get your birthday sex, don’t worry, luv…” He chuckled. “Close your eyes,”

You did as he said as you heard his wardrobe open and the rustling of hangers.

“Stretch out your arms,” He said, you complied.

As you felt something leathery and slightly heavy in your hands, your heart stopped briefly.

“No…” You whispered.

“Open those pretty eyes,”

In your hands you saw your scarlet jacket. Renewed. Enhanced. Spikes around the collar, and the cuffs. Black patches sewed with floss along some of the edges. At the back there was a beautiful drawing of your favourite animal made out of polygons with white paint.

“Hobie!” You whispered breathless. “Oh my god, Hobie!”

“You have to see the best part, look at this,” He said as he showed you the inside, completely new fabric covering the insides, and where the old washed out tag with the brand and size was, now replaced with a black patch with a drawing of a pencil with “HB No.2” written on it. His familiar signature, referencing the drawing pencils. Underneath, there was something else written: “For the Love of My Life, my Beacon of Light. I love you. -HB”

You looked up at Hobie with wide eyes, as they got teary.

“Wadya think?” He asked.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close, trapping his lips in a fiery kiss. His hands latched on to your hips at once. Pulling you over to the bed, making you lay down.

“I loved it. Hobie, it’s wonderful…” you said breathlessly as you pulled Hobie on top of you.

“Would you model it for me, luv?” He purred.

You chuckled and nodded. Getting off of you, and laying besides you, you say up and out on the jacket, standing up and modelling the jacket.

“The jacket doesn’t look nearly as beautiful as the girl wearing it,”

“Come on, Hobie. It’s beautiful. I loved it,” You said.

“I’m glad you liked it,” He said with a gentle smile.

“You know how this would look even better?” You asked, smirking as you took off the jacket.

Hobie raised an eyebrow as he watched you take your shirt off. His heart racing as his eyes and smirk widened.

As you put your jacket back on, this time not wearing anything underneath. The jacket covering your breasts, leaving your chest exposed, as Hobie stared at you wide eyed.

“Fuck, I can’t believe how incredibly hot you look, luv,” He said as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him.

Pulling you down, straddling him, he leaned closer and started kissing your neck as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His hands exploring your skin underneath the jacket. Between his hands and lips, you felt delirious. Letting a soft moan escape your throat as one of your hands sunk in his wicks.

“Fuck, Hobie…” You whispered.

“Isn’t that the plan?” He teased, making you chuckle.

“You’re such a smartass,” You said kissing his head.

“You like that, don’t you?” He said pulling away as one of his hands caressing your cheek.

His other hand slid up your side, cupping your boob. His thumb sliding over your nipple, making you close your eyes and moan.

“You sound so hot when you do that, babe…” He said in a low voice, as he kept teasing your nipple, staring at you enamoured.

Opening your eyes, you glanced at him. Licking your lips, as your stare darkened. Picking up on the look you were giving him, he leaned forward and kissed you. His other hand slid down your cheek to cup your other breast, giving them a gentle squeeze before his fingers teased your nipples. Gasping against his lips, you rocked your hips on top of his, this time, stealing a moan from him.

Melting against each other, while normally you’d passionately devour each other, this time you went slower. Equally fiery, but much slower. Taking your time to undress each other. Loving caresses, and declarations of love dissipating in the air, mixed with moans. The heat rising as you gave into each other.

With little clothes left, Hobie lying on the bed with you sitting on his hips. Wearing nothing but leather and smudged lipstick. He stared at you with drunken eyes.

“You know how else would this jacket look great?” He asked.

“On your bedroom floor?” You asked, making him chuckle.

“Man, too predictable?”

“You used that pick up like the first time you brought me over to your place…” You chuckled. “I was wearing—“

“That sexy blue sundress…” Hobie sighed as his hands slid up your body, pushing the jacket off your shoulders.

In a swift move, once Hobie took off the jacket, he grabbed your hips and turned the both of you over. Leaving you undergrad as he nestled between your legs.

“For the record, you always do look sexy…” He said.

You giggled as you cupped his face. “Kiss me, Hobie…”

Without having to be told twice, he leaned down and kissed you.

The night went on as you let the heat of the moment consume you. Clothes burning close together, as he slid inside of you. Stretching you in such a delicious way, building a rhythm that was soon going to drive you crazy. Delirious, as Hobie knew exactly how to make you feel ecstatic.

With every push, he was building your orgasm. Somehow being simultaneously rough and gentle, making your eyes roll back. Your voice growing higher and higher, as the sound of your voice was driving him insane.

“Fuck, babe…Look at me…” He purred as you opened your eyes, looking at him. “That’s right, babe…”

“I love you, Hobie…” You gasped.

“I do too. Very, very much, baby…” He said as he leaned over, his nose brushing against yours.

His hips slowed down, as his hands patched on to your hips, lifting them up slightly. Going deeper than before, you let a loud moan out as you bumped your forehead against his. His length brushing against the right spot, and his tip kissing your cervix.

“Babe, I want to cum…” You whined.

“Everything at its time…” He chuckled softly as he built up his rhythm again.

Arching your back, you cried out his name as your hands clawed to his shoulders. His hips snapping against yours, as his own grunts only added to the heat in your belly condense.

With every push, every gasp, you felt yourself dissolving, every second closet and closer and closer to your climax.

“Ba-babe~”

“You like that?” He asked with a cheeky grin as he pulled your legs over his shoulders, going deeper.

“Ye-yeah…”

“Such a pretty girl,” He purred as he sped up.

His relentless pace eventually threw you off the edge, as you cried out his name, your fingers clawing to his arms. The consuming heat of your orgasm burning you inside out. Your walls desperately squeezing him, sucking him in as he groaned, lost in pleasure as he chased his own orgasm. The delirious spasming of your walls soon made him come undone. His hot seed shooting inside your insides, coating and painting your walls.

He kissed your forehead, halting his movements. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the feeling of his body relaxing and the sound of your soft panting, catching your breath.

He got off of you and collapsed on the bed besides you. Rolling to your side, you snuggled close to him.

“Happy birthday, luv,”

“My best birthday so far,”

“That’ll change next year,” He said confidently, as he kissed your forehead.

~~~~~

Hobie tag list: @melda0m3

[drunkewok]

Tiger Inside Chapter Thirty-Four

Masterlist

Likes, reblogs and feedback always greatly appreciated

WC: 4k

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Genre: Series, Enemies to lovers, non-idol AU, Mafia AU

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, drinking, swearing, violence, weapons

Please do not copy or repost my work

“What if I go talk to him?”

The room fell into quick silence, a tension hanging in the air. Every pair of eyes turned sharply toward me, their gazes filled with a mix of concern and disbelief as if I had suddenly grown a second head. My hands rested on the island countertop in front of me, leaning forward as Chan, Minho and Changbin surrounded the counter.

“You can't be serious,” Changbin protested, his voice laced with apprehension.

I gave a small shrug, trying to appear nonchalant despite the gravity of my proposal. “He’s still my uncle. What’s a little chat amongst family?” 

I brought my mug to my lips, drinking the last bit of my coffee before rinsing my mug under the faucet. Chan set down his own coffee with a sigh, clearly not amused by the proposition.

“Uncle or not, you need to remember he may be the mastermind behind this whole operation,” Chan cautioned, his tone severe. “And you just wanna casually walk up to his door like it's a plain old Tuesday? Even though you haven’t  spoken to him in years.”

I turned around to face him, leaning back against the sink with arms crossed. “Is that not the perfect cover? I’ve returned home, do you think he would be surprised that I want to see him? Plus, if he thinks  we’re onto him, the last thing he'd expect  is for me to turn up at his door.” 

Chan and I locked eyes in a silent standoff, each of us refusing to back down. Finally, he broke the silence, running his fingers through his hair with a resigned sigh.

“Fine. But you aren't going alone.”

“I’ll go with her.”

Minho’s unexpected offer to accompany caught me off guard, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of frustration at his assumption of responsibility. 

“Why can’t Changbin come with me?” I nudged my head in Changbin’s direction, brows raised as I stared him down, praying he would understand the nonverbal communication.

“I, um…” Changbin quickly averted his gaze, feigning sudden interest in the countertop. “I told Lix I’d help him with some moves, so I can’t, sorry.”

“Really? Lix? If you’re gonna lie, at least be good at it.”

“Ya!” His demeanor shifted instantly as he raised an accusatory finger, ready to defend Felix at the drop of a hat. “Maybe he wants to change things up! And he wants to learn from the best teacher, can you really blame him!?” He patted his chest with pride.

Before I could respond, Minho intervened, his tone eerily calm and devoid of emotion. “Relax, I won’t try to mentor you. You want to go talk to him, so we’ll go talk to him.”

I stifled a sigh of exasperation, feeling frustration bubbling beneath the surface. The one time I actually want Minho to push back, yet he complacently agrees.

“Fantastic,” Chan spoke up, breaking the tension as he collected the empty mugs and headed toward the sink. His hand patted my back in a gesture of reassurance before he turned to leave then paused in the doorway. “Just make the call when you’re ready to go.”

As Chan exited the room, a weighty atmosphere lingered, emphasized by the unresolved strain between Minho and me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment marked just a temporary ceasefire in our ongoing battle of wills. With a heavy sigh, I closed my eyes before they had a chance to roll directly out of my skull.

The following day I was climbing into the car beside Minho, the obvious tension within the small vehicle seemingly unaffecting him. Draping one leg over the other, I leaned toward the door, resting my head against the window with a hint of defiance, arms crossed.

“You’re pouting.” Minho said matter-of-factly. 

“You didn’t have to come with me.” I snapped back quickly, trying to match his deadpan delivery.

A chuckle escaped him, his lips curling into an amused smile. His head tilted slightly as he stayed focused on the road ahead, tongue pressed lightly to the inside of his cheek.

“Someone has to be there in case you try to make a break for it.” He remarked, his tone carrying a hint of cockiness. “And if memory serves me right, I’ve got a pretty impressive track record with that.” 

“Is that what you tell yourself to sleep better at night?”

“It’s okay, kitten.” He reached over, just slightly patting my thigh. “You can put the claws away.”

“If that’s your attempt to replace ‘dear’ I will hiss at you, so help me god.”

He rested his elbow on the center console, letting out a short laugh. It wasn’t the usual snickers and teasing chuckles that came out of him. A true, genuine laugh. The type that your cheeks scrunch up to your eyes, and you shake in your chest. My brows furrowed as he glanced at me for a moment, before focusing forward again.

“You’re cute when you’re grumpy.” he remarked with a playful smile, his words catching me off guard.

“I-” I began, momentarily speechless, my mouth opening and closing as I struggled to voice against his unexpected demeanor.  Minho’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he watched me stumble for words.

“What’s the matter, kitten? Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re impossible, you know that?” My eyes narrowed at him.

“Impossible to resist?” He quipped, his playful grin widening. I let out an exasperated sigh, crossing my arms and looking away. 

“You wish.”

As we drove on, it felt as though the tension began to ease, a comfortable silence with the soft hum of the engine sitting in its place. The trees cast dancing shadows through the sunroof of the car, leaving a warm glow across Minho’s face. He seemed lost in thought, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel in perfect rhythm with the music playing softly on the radio.

I glanced over to him, taking in the relaxed set of his shoulders and the way the corners of his mouth twitched slightly, as if he was on the verge of a smile. Like he was perfectly aware of my stolen glances. It was a stark contrast to the sharp, tense exchanges we’re used to. Maybe, just maybe, there was a possibility of us navigating this mess without tearing each other apart.

“What’s on your mind?” Minho’s voice broke the silence, his eyes still focused on the road ahead. My head dropped, studying my hands in my lap before letting out a sigh. 

“Just, everything? I guess?” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. “How complicated it all is.”

He hummed, “A lot has happened since you’ve come back. It’s a lot to take in.”

“Is this a twinge of compassion I hear?” I teased, attempting to lighten the mood once more.

Minho’s lips curled into a small, genuine smile.

“Don’t get used to it. I have a reputation to maintain.”

As the car rounded up the driveway of Tiger’s estate, I took a deep breath, trying to center myself and prepare for what was to come. Stepping out of the car, I took a moment to gather my thoughts before joining Minho at the front door.

The sound of the doorbell reverberated through the halls inside, suspense hanging heavy in the air. Glancing sideways, I caught sight of Minho, his demeanor showing a subtle restlessness as he shifted his weight and tucked his hands into his pockets. His gaze seemed fixed on the door ahead, yet distant, lost in thought. In an attempt to offer reassurance, I mustered a gentle smile, but it was met with silence on his part.

“Com'on, loosen up.” I urged, nudging into his side, his stoic face refusing to break.

“I still don't understand what good is going to come from this.” he remarked skeptically.

“It'll be fine, trust me.” I reassured him, though a hint of concern crept into my voice, “Though it's weird no one's answered the door yet…”

I rang the bell again before sidestepping past Minho. Cupping my hands above my eyes, I pressed against the window beside the door, peering into the darkened foyer.

“That's strange.” I mumbled, stepping off the side of the front porch and making my way across the grass to the front window. Peering inside, I noticed the untouched interior, with a thin layer of dust starting to accumulate on surfaces and all lights off. It was only then that I took a moment to survey the neglected state of the yard behind me, realizing that the property was well on its way to a level of disarray.

“That's so weird…” I muttered to myself.

“What is it?” Minho leaned back, his gaze fixed on me from the porch.

“His staff, they haven't been here. Look,” I gestured out across the lawn. “The hedges are overgrown, the grass hasn't been mowed, and inside hasn't even been touched.” 

Minho reached for my outstretched hand, assisting me back onto the porch. Without hesitation, I reached toward an assuming gray box fixed to the wall, sliding it open to reveal a small black scanner on the inside.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm getting us inside.” I placed my thumb against the sensor, listening for the click as the door unlocked. “Something’s not right.”

“Y/n… I really don't think-”

“Minho, I'm telling you. Something is off, his staff usually keeps this place immaculate.” I pushed the door open slowly, stepping a foot inside and calling out. “Tiger? It's y/n, are you home?” 

My voice bounced off the walls, projecting an echo down the hall like a pinball. 

“Your print is in the scanner?” Minho slowly followed in behind me, quietly shutting the door behind us.

“The whole family was programmed into it, he said he wanted us to always have access in case of emergency.”

Entering the main room from the hallway, I gazed up at the vaulted ceilings, momentarily struck by the vastness of his home. The sleek, modern design with its crisp lines naturally directed one’s gaze toward the expansive windows at the rear, offering a commanding view of the property beyond.

“Well, this is sure an interesting family emergency then…” His voice trailed off, eyes taking in the massive room we found ourselves in.

The interior of his home remained largely unchanged since the last time I had stepped foot in it so many years ago. While tastefully curated, it lacked the opulence of my father’s home. Instead, it exuded a refined aesthetic reminiscent of the SKZ house, characterized by dark woods and deep leathers. It perfectly resembled the cliche image of a residence befitting of a wealthy bachelor.

Everything appeared untouched, as if the occupants of the house seemed to vanish into thin air, leaving a layer of dust in their wake. I stopped, turning back to Minho as my face contorted with confusion.

“I just don't get it, where could he have gone?”

“Didn't Chan mention he's been off the radar for a while? Would make sense that he hasn't been home.” Minho looked to his side with a shrug, slowly dragging a finger across a table to examine the layer of dust.

My hands settled on my hips and I looked around the empty house, my brows furrowed deep in thought.

“The office…” I whispered as the light bulb went off, sliding past Minho and hurrying my way toward the stairs. 

Reaching the top, I stopped in the corridor. Taking a moment to look to my right, my eyes focusing on the large double doors that led into his bedroom, one sitting slightly ajar. 

It was the first moment that it had crossed my mind that possibly, Tiger had maybe found himself with the same fate as my father. Left for dead in his own home. It was a wishful doubt deep in my bones that made me still want to believe he wasn’t the hand pulling the strings of this operation. If he was innocent, it wouldn’t be outside the realm of possibilities that a hit could be carried out against him as well.  

I paused in front of the doors, trying to tell myself that I was being dramatic, that I was blowing things out of proportion. The quietest of creeks admitted from the door as I slowly nudged it open;

Nothing.

His room mirrored the rest of the home, appearing untouched and devoid of any signs of recent occupancy. Glancing into his walk-in closet, I noticed a clear absence of clothing, with several empty hangers dangling from the racks.

“He clearly left on his own accord, he packed bags before leaving. But he must have been gone for a while with what the house looks like” I remarked, retracing my steps through the room, passing Minho, and making my way out through the doors and down the hall.

His office, to no surprise, sat untouched as well. Appearing as though he closed the door one night and hadn't opened it again. I sat down in his chair, wasting no time opening drawers to the desk and beginning to riffle through the papers that had been left.

“Y/n, are you sure you should be doing this?” Minho stepped into the room, slowly walking down the rows of shelves and eyeing them closely as if searching for something hidden among the books. “You don’t think he has hidden security or something?”

“Oh, he definitely does.” I said confidently.

Minho’s head snapped in my direction, his brows furrowed with apprehension as he processed my words.

“He’s clearly been gone for quite a while.” I looked up at him through my lashes, letting out a chuckle, “What? You think he’s gonna come down from the sky and smite us?” I pulled open one of the bottom drawers, pushing any useless items to the side while mumbling, “Wherever he is, I have at least enough time to at least get some information before getting out. He’s got to already know we’re here, there isn’t much more damage I can do now.”

Hidden beneath the random assortment of items, were two manila folders, carefully tucked away. I pulled them out, dropping them on the desk and not wasting a second before opening the first. The first couple pages were far too recognizable to me, the handwriting on the letters a clear indication of who the penman was.

“These are from my dad…” I uttered softly, feeling the familiar lump rise in my throat, the ache of loss tightening my chest as I kept my breath steady. Although the letters weren’t intended for me, they were among the last remnants of my father’s presence, now in my grasp. Attempting to push back the tears welling up, I shook my head as if to clear a mental etch-a-sketch, seeking a moment of clarity. Lifting the first letter, I sank back into the seat, absorbing the words before me.

“He knew…” I murmured, my eyes widening with urgency as I scanned the lines. Each word revealed his meticulous observations, detailing the intricacies of my father’s research into whatever was going on. “Minho… he knew about the imports!” I held the letter out, shaking it in the air as I tried to hand it to him.

“For the chemicals?” His face scrunched in curiosity as he stepped forward and took it. His eyes grazed over the page, his brows slowly creasing the further he got down the lines.

I flipped the folder back open, quickly skimming over each letter that was kept. He had known the entire time, keeping methodical tabs on any information he had stirred up. 

The other folder held a variety of documents, each hand-dated at the top. Forged import documents with my father's handwriting scribbled into the margins, pointing out any discrepancies in bold red ink. Inventory logs directly pairing with each of the forged imports, and research documents eerily similar to the ones Seungmin had collected from the warehouse. 

The dates in the beginning were sporadic, widely spaced out as if they were testing the waters in the beginning. Trying to see if they could be successful in performing under the radar. They progressively got closer and closer together, he was getting more confident.

Whatever my father was catching onto, he was relaying it all to Tiger. He knew exactly what evidence he had against him, and how quickly it was beginning to pile up. Tiger knew he was closing in on him and it was only a matter of time before my father bridged the gap and linked it to him.

Tiger knew he needed to cut all possibilities of that happening. 

I rested my elbows on the desk, head propped up by my hands, as my vision blurred out deep in thought. The timeline of events played in my mind, culminating into Tiger making the final call for execution. 

I could almost imagine all the late nights the two of them paced around my father’s office, discussing any new leads and possible plans of action. All the while Tiger held a strong face and orchestrated all of it. From the operations, to the investigation into him. Always one step ahead of my father.

Snapping myself out of it, I pulled open the other bottom drawer. It was a file cabinet style, a row of folders running to the back. My fingers flipped through each of the tabs, my brain quickly processing each heading on them in search of something that could be deemed useful.

My head slowly tilted in confusion as I froze, brows furrowing as my eyes fell on one of the last folders in the back. 

Surely I couldn’t be reading that right.

I slowly pulled it from the drawer, Minho’s eyes falling on the folder as I laid it in front of me. I leaned my elbow on the desk, my chin resting in my fingers as I eyed the folder, almost scared to open it. 

“Does that say Blossom?” 

I gave a silent nod, fingers playing with the corner before finally being able to push myself to open it. I leaned forward, carefully studying the document that sat on the top of the pages. 

The first was a list of employees, Seongho and I being the top two listed. The pages were a simple list; the name, followed by common employer-known information. But scribbled in below each of those was a list of notes, handwriting different from my father’s. Ones that went into more detail of the person, almost as if each were studied. Below my name had the longest string of notes, including the clear address to my Gangnam apartment. 

“Had he been keeping tabs on me?” I held the employee pages to the side, seeing records of business ledgers that sat behind them. Yet the final page was the one that held the most intrigue, one far more official than the others in the folder. “It’s a fucking deed, Minho! He owned Blossom!”

I tossed the page onto the desk, leaning back with arms crossed as I stared it down with a pointed glare.

“He what?” Minho stepped forward, picking up the paper and turning to lean back up against the desk. He gave out a small puff of air as he examined the deed, before looking up and turning to peer at me over his shoulder. “And you had no idea?”

“I knew that ownership changed a few months after I started there, but the owner never came by to introduce himself.” I slowly spun the chair, turning to face the windows with a scoff. “I guess I can assume why now.” 

Minho turned to grab the file with the letters off the desk, his fingers slowly pulling each page in the stack back as he skimmed over each one. He laid the letters onto the desk, letting himself properly read the documents behind it. 

“Seungmin is going to want these.” He waved a few of the scientific documents through the air, “I'm not sure if this is stuff he's already researched, but if not it might come in handy for him.” 

“How long had he been trailing me…” the question sat in the air, more rhetorical than searching for the answer as I mumbled to myself. “Is that why Dad wanted me with you guys? Was it only a matter of time before he took me out too?” My eyes fell on the floor, brows scrunched in confusion. 

It felt as though Pandora’s box had been pried open. The sinister reality that I had wanted so hard to deny had its confirmation staring at me in the face, eyes too piercing to look away. Someone who was such a trusted figure in my life had orchestrated the demise of my father, his own brother by oath. It felt like a cruel twist of fate that it became apparent he had been silently tracking my every move since that day, lurking in the shadows of my existence like a malevolent specter. The revelation was leaving me reeling, my head spinning with the heavy reality of betrayal.

“But why did he buy Blossom?” I looked up to Minho, his body almost facing me now and his expression held that of concern or comfort, or it was his own strange blend of the two. “What was the point of that? I don't get it. I didn't think we'd actually find anything here, but now I just have so many more questions.” 

Minho’s eyes softened as he glanced up at me, shoulders slightly dropping. He laid the papers out on the desk, separating each of them and reaching for his phone.

“We shouldn’t take these with us, on the off chance he does come back looking for them.” 

I nodded, standing up and joining him at the desk. Everything felt like so much to take in, but there was a resolve forming in the pit of my stomach. I watched as Minho meticulously snapped pictures of each document, ensuring every detail was captured. The ownership deed, the letters, and the scientific papers. All of it needed to be scrutinized by Chan and the rest of the team.

As Minho finished the stack for one folder, I collected the pages. Returning them to their home and laying out the next stack for him. For once I couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude for his presence. Despite our rocky history, he still volunteered to accompany me. And he was here, steadfast and unwavering. His calm, methodical approach was grounding, a stark contrast to the turmoil rolling within me.

I pulled the drawers back open, setting the first two files into the drawer, and covering them as they were before. I slipped the Blossom folder back into the filing cabinet, securing both drawers shut. 

The drive back was filled with a heavy silence, both of us lost in our thoughts. The weight of the day’s revelations pressed down on us, but there was also a sense of determination in the air.

The sun began to set, casting long shadows on the road ahead. The orange and pink hues of the sky seemed almost out of place against the somber mood in the car. I glanced at Minho, his expression focused yet distant.

As we approached the house, the familiar sight brought a small measure of comfort. I knew what we had uncovered was just the beginning, and the real battle was yet to come. But with the team by my side, it felt like finding the solution to all of this felt possible. And no matter how much I wanted to fight it deep down, Minho as well.

We parked and stepped out of the car, the quiet resolve between us unspoken but understood. With the photos ready for presentation, we headed toward the door, ready to confront the next chapter of this unfolding mystery.

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@leagreenly @jamlessstars @moonlight-the-writer @ishz @minbinboo @felixslostfreckle @venusmoonxnight @caillout24 @linocz @stayceebs97 @trinityceleste8 @_yhtwdr @lefay-ette @hrskt @kayleefriedchicken @generousnachofox @avathebuttercup

If you're highlighted in red I cannot properly tag you

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Do Your Worst ||

Frank Castle x gn!reader

Tags/warnings: none really? Fluff ultimately.

WC: 3200

Frank Castle, an army of one, with all of the burdens that came with it.

It was heavy around his shoulders, a bloody cape he could never take off, and yet you just crawled right under it with him, sheltering from this storm together.

Every time he touched you he felt the dark red retribution dripping from his hands and staining your skin. Not something that would wash off so easily.

His heart had healed from his past with crooked, raw stitches, but you had somehow got right in there, softened them, and opened it back up. Yes, the scars would remain, but now it just might heal a little better than before.

Your own heart was rent open with every ragged wound he returned with, constricting with the constant dread that one day he'd just never reappear at your door. That maybe one night, when he falls, exhausted and broken into your embrace, it would be for the last time and you wouldn't even know.

You knew his grief, his hurt. You'd visited their graves with him once, Maria and the kids, but you couldn't possibly fathom the vastness, the endless breadth of it. Your love may have only now taken up a small corner of that dark void, but every time he was with you, it would grow a little more, the warm light of it would shine a little brighter.

Frank-

It was the touch of your hands coming gently to cradle his face that brought him back to the present, his eyes refocusing, finally finding yours and not just looking beyond you into a future that he might be afraid to let play out.

"Frankie…"

"Yeah. Yeah..." His voice seems so small.

You're looking straight at him but there's no concern or expectation in your expression for him to explain where he went, whether it was in his own head or elsewhere. You gave him exactly what he needed so willingly, always so fucking patient. He knew he didn't deserve you. Or maybe he did. You were someone that was willing to guide him through the repair, someone that he'd actually trust with that monster of a battle. And yeah, it was hard in the beginning when he could feel his caged up emotions waiting and wanting to be released, but he was still stubbornly clutching onto the key. Maybe he could do it alone, it would be safer where you were concerned, but was that what he really wanted?

He rests his forehead against yours, hands reaching to take yours in his and clasp them on his lap as you kneel in front of him. He swallows and takes a deep inhale.

"Y'should get out of this while you still can." He says, quiet.

"Oh it's much too late for that baby." You respond, squeezing his hands gently as you run your thumbs over his bruised knuckles.

"Too late huh?"

You smile and there's that warm glow again.

"Yeah. M'in love with you. No going back now."

"Damn…" He chuckles breathily, pressing into you. He raises your hands to his lips and kisses your fingers softly, over and over.

"Well you know you got your work cut out with me, don't ya?" He warns as he pulls back and you let out a huff of breath.

Those dark eyes are so often stony and hard, but they soften as you don't even seem to think twice about what it means to be with the kind of man he is.

"I know I do. So are you gonna let me try?"

He dips his head, but he can't hide the smile pulling up the corners of his mouth.

"Yeah, go on baby. Do your worst."

[spikezonebby]

Okay, okay I wanna see what you come up with for this song. “Sew My Name” by Josh Pike (the live version at the Sydney Opera House is the best version in my opinion).

GN!Reader x TFA!Ratchet with a dash (or more than a dash) of cathartic angst.

Sew My Name - TFA!Ratchet/GN!Human!Reader

Word count: 1,667

You liked to leave your mark wherever you went.

For as long as Ratchet had known you, you loved to leave something of yourself behind. You thought it important that the universe knew you existed in some capacity. You carried a knife around in your back pocket so you could carve your name into tree bark. One evening, you had asked him to show you how to sew. You wanted to know, so you could sew things into the collars of your clothes.

Ratchet always thought clothes were kind of a strange human invention. What good was armor that didn’t protect anything? Winter clothes, that was a different story. Humans had less-than-stellar temperature regulation so it made sense that you needed that.

Didn’t stop you from shoving your hands into the warm mesh just under his chassis whenever you got chilly, though.

If Ratchet had had any idea how much he’d miss the little things you did, he would have savored it longer. Been a bit more hesitant to pluck you off of him, or tried to close the distance between you a little more. 

Bumblebee was lucky, the little scrap. He was lucky because his favorite organic was actually a techno-organic and would live a long, long life alongside him. For Ratchet, it seemed like with every visit back to Earth from Cybertron, there was less of you to go around. 

Then one day, there wasn’t any of you left.

You passed away on a seemingly innocuous Tuesday evening and he didn’t even hear about it until the next time he came to Earth to check up on Sari. She broke the news to him, and he wasn’t even sure if he felt sad or not. Perhaps he’d been mourning all this time in preparation for the news, knowing how short organic lives were. He knew what he did feel though.

He was angry. Angry, raging, pissed off beyond belief that you could put so much of yourself into the universe, only for it to not even blink or grimace in your absence. He wanted to drag Primus himself down by his audials and give him what for.

“Doc-bot, I didn’t even think you were that close with them.” Sari said, setting a hand– or were they servos now? He still wasn’t sure with her unique anatomy— on the back of his calf.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I was their primary doctor! Not only that but they were a part of the team, weren’t they?”

Sari didn’t really have an answer for him, she wasn’t really looking at him even when he turns to face her. After the battle with Megatron and his copies of Omega Supreme, things changed. It was largely for the better, with Team Prime being accepted as heroes. Prowl’s death, though noble, shocked all of them to their cores. It’s been decades since then and Sari had gone from a teen to an upstanding young femme, struggling with her father’s own slowly decaying mind. Ratchet hated to say it but he always figured Issac would go before you, not out live you.

It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair. 

“What happened? I thought humans could live to be over a hundred years old.”

“I don’t know.” Sari admits, “I wasn’t really close with them. It just… got hard to talk to them, ya know?”

Ratchet hadn’t thought about that before. Sari, with her unique nature, may very well be the only person capable of understanding both the human and the Cybertronian angle of time. It made sense that Sari would slowly become unable to relate to you, a fully organic human being, the older you got…

It made him wish he’d spent more time talking with you. 

“They did want me to give you something though, Ratchet.” Sari speaks up after a tense moment. 

Sari had always been a girl that packed light, but Ratchet had entirely overlooked the bag she’d been holding. It was just a plastic bag but the real mystery was the parcel held within. Something small and light, bound up with a red ribbon. Sari sets it in his open servo and immediately he’s drawn to the softness of it. 

It’s fabric, whatever it is. You were known to be a purveyor of various hobbies, it isn’t strange to think you might have gotten into fashion before your passing. Last he’d heard, you had taken to raising these insects called ladybugs. And before that, you had had an infatuation with sailing and the early history of your planet’s nautical culture. 

He should have seen the signs of you slowing down way, way before this.

He unwraps the gift, revealing the folded fabric. A long strip of soft and silky material carefully hand embroidered with delicate gold. It reminded him of a thin scarf. On the very end, he finds his name stitched into it by hand. There’s the taste of something bittersweet on his glossa then, knowing he taught you how to do this. You kept up with it all these years later.

“Oh! I know what that is!” Sari chirps, and in an instant, her jet pack pops free from her back and boosts her up onto the medic’s shoulders. On her way up she snags the fabric from his grip, and with practiced ease, balances herself just behind his helm. She wasn’t as small as she used to be but still small enough. 

“What on Cybertron are you doing?” 

“Gimme a sec here!”

And a second is all she needs, because she loops the fabric around his neck cables and starts folding and twisting. Then, turns it around on him so the delicate puff of fabric is on the front of his chassis, hanging down and standing out as a stark, bright shock of color against his white paint. Like an ascot or a necktie or some other name for the vast many types of cravats there were on Earth.

“Guess they didn’t think you looked spiffy enough, Doc.”

The established base had tons of reflective surfaces, so one of them, a monitor, made a good enough mirror for Ratchet to adjust his new tie a bit. It was pretty, like Sari said, spitty, on him. He appraises himself, turning this way and that.

“Huh, not something I woulda gotten myself.”

“Pfft. That’s probably why they got it for you.”

“I didn’t think I was gone from Earth for that long for them just to… vanish like that.”

Sari shifts so she’s resting her arms and chin atop Ratchet’s head, legs throne over either of his shoulders and hoping her weight and her presence are soothing to the old medic. She squishes her cheek into the top of his helm.

“I don’t think anyone actually has a schedule for when they plan to kick the bucket. It just… happens. They probably wanted to give it to you in person but just ran out of time.”

Ratchet could picture it. You, old and greyed and still insisting they ride around on his shoulder while he talks about all of the numbskulls back at headquarters. Then they poke his cheek and tell him to stop being so grumpy, and give him their gift.

“Hey, you don’t have to answer this if you don’t wanna but…” Sari’s big blue eyes find his face in the monitor’s reflection, scrutinizing his expression for any minute detail. “Did you like them?”

“Of course I liked them. Why else would I put up with them? I like you, don’t I?”

“Awww, you do?” She flicks the unbroken point of his chevron, “Cute but that’s not what I meant. I meant like-like.”

“Oh, you mean like you and Bumblebee?”

Sari sputters and gives him a quick bop on the helm, “Yeah, yeah sure! If you need an example.”

“Honestly, Sari?” Ratchet begins, rubbing the golden seam of the tie between his fingers, “I…I don’t know. Cybertronians live so much longer than any organic life. It stands to reason that we fall in love slower too.”

“But that isn’t a ‘no.’”

“You’re right, it’s not. It’s not a ‘yes’ either. I guess, maybe, I could have if there was just more time.”

Sari doesn’t respond to that, not verbally anyways. She drums her fingers atop his helm, then he feels her squeeze him a bit tighter.

“I’m sorry.”

“And I’m Ratchet.”

That gets a snicker out of Sari. She pats the top of his helm and then he can see her in the monitor as she jerks her thumb back behind her.

“Bee wants to go grab some highgrade if you wanna join us.”

“Who’s ‘us?’”

“Me, Bee, Bulk, Jazz, and hopefully you. Optimus is still busy– Because when is he not– but he promised to call us all tonight.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Does there have to be? All my old friends are finally together so, why wouldn’t I wanna hang out with them all? Don’t have to have a reason besides just saying you miss someone.”

Sari always was the glue of the team. Her and Bee, friends against all odds. Young bots that just loved one another and loved all of the people around them, even if they could be a little annoying.

“Yeah, I don’t gotta head back to Cybertron for a while yet. Might as well show off their gift, right? And hope Bulkhead doesn’t spill highgrade on me.”

“Aw yeah! That’s the spirit!” Sari pumps her fists, then bounces on his shoulders, “Giddy up, let’s goooo!”

That gets a laugh out of Ratchet. Yeah, it was probably better that he spent some time with friends anyways. You would have wanted to if everyone was in the city at the same time. Even if he didn’t like to have a drink himself, he’d drink to you. To your memory.

So that the universe knew that you really had your name stitched onto his very spark. That there was some piece of you that couldn’t be erased. He wouldn’t let it be erased.

[munson-blurbs]

Ghostin' (Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader): Chapter 7

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six

Summary: It's finally time for the attack on Vecna, with some help from an unlikely source, but the battle may be too much for Reader to handle.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), language, S4 is canon, pregnancy, blood, violence

WC: 6k

A/N: Only one chapter left after this! I hope y'all enjoy :)

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

Taglist: @kaybee87 @sidthedollface2 @chelebelletx @livsters @atombombbibunny @tattooedkiss13 @manda-panda-monium @charming-winchester @corroded-hellfire @trashmouth-richie @sweet-villain @slightlyvicked @hxllfired @yogizzz @tlclick73 @thefreakofhawkins86 @sheisjoeschateau @harrypotteranna23-blog @harringr0ve @josie955 @luna-munson83 @blhemmings @lxvesickreality @palmtreesx3 @stephierro

Late November in Hawkins is typically cold and dreary, but today is unseasonably warm. You wake up and stretch, grimacing as you feel the ache in your lower back. Steve always reminds you that you’re glowing, that you’re beautiful, but his kind words still can’t take away from the pregnancy pains that seem to multiply overnight.

“Mornin’, baby,” he yawns, propping himself up on one elbow and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “And mornin’, Little Bean.” He places his hand on your belly and smiles. “Did you let your mommy sleep last night?”

You stick out your tongue in displeasure, making Steve laugh. “I’m gonna take that as a ‘no’?” he says.

“Every time I started to get comfortable, I’d feel a kick,” you mutter. “But then when Little Bean went too long without kicking, I’d get nervous and think about everything that could be wrong.”

Steve pouts teasingly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “My poor girl,” he coos. “Will breakfast help?”

“Won’t hurt.” 

You watch as your boyfriend swings his legs over the bed, stretching with an exaggerated groan and padding out into the kitchen. He returns a few minutes later, holding two bowls filled with Cheerios and milk.

“These aren’t pancakes,” you say, lifting the spoon from the bowl and frowning. “I’m going to put in a complaint with the kitchen.”

“Sorry, toots,” Steve chuckles through a mouthful of cereal. “We’ve got a busy day today. Henderson wants us all to meet up for a last-minute run-through of tomorrow’s plan.”

Tomorrow. The attack on Vecna is tomorrow. The day you could possibly lose Steve is tomorrow. The mere thought of it makes you lose your appetite, and you quietly place the untouched food on your bedside table.

Steve notices your movements and puts his own bowl down, lacing his fingers with yours. “Look at me, baby,” he all but begs, but you can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. “Please?” When you still don’t look him in his eyes, he just sighs. “Everything’s gonna be okay. It’s not gonna be like…like last time.” When Eddie died, is what he doesn’t say. He doesn’t have to.

“Could I sit this one out?” you ask, voice a notch above a whisper. “You can fill me in when you get home or something.” You already know your role: wait with Steve with Black Dog in the Walkman, locked and ready to go. 

But Steve shakes his head. “Trust me,” he says, giving your hand a small squeeze, “you’ll wanna be there. Now, can you please eat something? Little Bean needs nutrients to be strong like Mom.”

Reluctantly, you start to eat, but each bite is harder to swallow than the last. The cereal turns mushy in the bowl, and if it seemed unappetizing before, the new consistency certainly doesn’t help. 

Next to you, Steve lets out a sigh. “Tell ya what,” he says, taking the bowl from your hand, “go put on something nice, and I’ll take you out to breakfast. Wherever you wanna go.”

“What? You mean this isn’t doing it for you?” You gesture to the oversized T-shirt you’re wearing, though it seems to be more snug around your belly every day. 

Steve laughs, cupping your cheek with his hand. “Baby, you have no idea how badly that does it for me,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing them. He guides you down so you’re laying back on the bed, his thighs straddling yours. He only breaks away when he catches a glimpse of the alarm clock, the red numbers telling him that he doesn’t have enough time to do what he really wants to do. “Shit, we gotta go, especially if we’re gonna get breakfast.” You start to protest, hoping to get him to stay in bed a little longer, but he just shakes his head and helps you back up. 

“You’re a tease,” you whine, pulling your pajama shirt over your head. You watch as Steve’s gaze is immediately drawn to the swell of your breasts, much larger than they used to be. “Two can play at this game, Harrington.”

If you didn’t have somewhere important to be, Steve knows he wouldn’t be able to hold back. He adjusts himself as you turn to find a bra, thinking about how pissed off everyone will be if he casually strolls in late. The thought of a death glare from Chief Hopper is enough to get him soft again. 

You decide on a burnt orange sweater and a basic pair of maternity jeans, and you’re fixing your hair when you hear the phone ring. 

Steve picks it up almost immediately, and you crane your neck to hear what he’s saying. 

“Yup, we’re leaving now. Should be there soon. Okay, Henderson, I got it. Sheesh, give us a little grace, would ya?”

You walk out to the living room and pick up your boots. “Dustin giving you a hard time again?”

“Yeah,” he groans, rolling his eyes. “I don’t know if we’ll have time for breakfast, but I’m sure Joyce will have something you can eat. Everyone knows better than to deny a pregnant lady her food.” 

As he talks, you try to put on your shoes, with no success. You can’t even see your feet. Your eyes well up with tears, and you can feel the frustration building in your chest. You don’t realize you’re actually crying until Steve kneels down in front of you, sliding your boot over your left foot and moving to the right. 

“I got you,” he says softly, helping you up and out the door. When you’d first started spending time with Steve, you’d assumed that he was treating you with kid gloves. That he was gentle and sweet out of pity. But now you know that this is just Steve, and it’s how he expresses his love. 

When you arrive at the Byers’ house, you expect the room to be filled with people and excited chatter. What you don’t expect is the cascade of streamers, the pile of gifts, and the homemade sign that reads ‘Welcome, Little Bean!’.

“Wh-what is this?” you ask, feeling a smile tug at the corners of your mouth. Everyone is beaming at you, and Joyce has tears in her eyes as she envelops you in a hug. 

“Every mom-to-be deserves a baby shower,” she murmurs into your hair, “but no one more so than you.”

“We were gonna yell surprise, but we didn’t wanna risk sending you into early labor,” Erica says with a laugh, handing you a glass of orange juice. 

You accept it gratefully, looking at your boyfriend. “Did you know about this?” you playfully accuse. 

He shrugs. “Don’t say I can’t keep a surprise.”

You start to fill your plate with the assortment of breakfast food on Joyce’s kitchen table, little muffins and fresh fruit and a bagel slathered in cream cheese. Hopper pulls out a chair for you, and you take a seat between Steve and your mom.

“This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you say, spearing a strawberry with your plastic fork. “Little Bean and I are the luckiest people in the world.” As if agreeing with you, the baby kicks at your ribs, making you wince.

“Everything okay?” Will asks through a bite of his bagel, noticing the grimace on your face.

You nod. “Someone’s just awake and ready to party.” The rest of the group laughs, continuing to dig into their breakfast. 

“Do you have any name ideas yet?” Dustin calls out to you, spraying muffin crumbs as he speaks. “Because I was thinking…Dustin.”

Erica rolls her eyes. “And what if it’s a girl, Toothless?”

“Dustina, obviously.”

 Their bickering is interrupted by a knock on the door. Joyce stands up with a knowing smile and opens it. “So glad you made it!” she exclaims, holding the door so the mystery guest can maneuver himself and a large wrapped box into the room.

“Wayne!” you shout, practically flinging your plate into Steve’s lap as you make your way over to him, throwing your arms around him in a giant hug. He pulls you as close as he can, and you can smell his signature scent of stale Camel cigarettes as he presses a scratchy kiss to your cheek. 

“Hope I didn’t miss too much,” he says with a chuckle. “Had to get some shut-eye after my shift.” He gives a grateful grin to Hopper, who takes the box and places it among the pile of gifts in the corner of the room.

“Nah, grab yourself something to eat, and we’ll open presents in a minute,” the chief tells him, and Wayne nods and takes a plate.

The chatter starts to die down as everyone finishes their food. Will looks at his mom with pleading eyes before asking, “Can I give her my gift now?” You notice his toes tapping against the hardwood floors, as though he can barely contain his excited energy.

Joyce laughs, glancing over to where you’ve sat back down. “You ready?” she asks, and you give a thumbs-up in response. She motions for Hopper to start passing down the beautifully wrapped boxes and bags as Will darts to his bedroom.

The first is from Robin, who appears to have robbed the baby clothes section of the local Gap. “Everything was just so cute and little!” she laments as you pull out yet another tiny shirt, this one that has I Love My Aunt stitched across the front.

The Hellfire kids, plus Erica, Max, and El, all chipped in part of their weekly allowances to buy a car seat. “My mom said you can’t leave the hospital without one, so…” Mike says with a shrug, a glimmer of a smile on his lips.

Will comes barreling back into the room, clutching a large canvas to his chest. “I didn’t wanna wrap it or put a bow on it or anything, but I made this for Little Bean.” He turns it around to reveal a hand-painted dragon, a collage of green and silver scales. Unlike the fierce, fiery dragon in his painting to Mike, this one looks friendly and gentle. Hanging from its mouth is a cloth holding a smiling, cherubic baby. “It’s supposed to be like the stork, but a dragon, y’know, because of D&D.” he explains, talking a mile a minute.

Your mom, Joyce, and Hopper pitched in to buy a crib, which Steve volunteers to put together once you get home. Jonathan and Nancy got a plethora of picture books, including Where the Wild Things Are, one of your own childhood favorites. Nancy hands you a smaller package and smiles. “It’s just a little something,” she says softly. You open it and gasp.

Inside is a teeny onesie with the Hellfire logo stretched across the front. Tears well up in your eyes, spilling over when she explains, “I got one of Eddie’s old shirts from Wayne and used it. Guess all those home ec classes actually paid off.”

“Nancy, this is…this is incredible.” It’s more than incredible, but you lack the ability to formulate any other words. “I feel bad that it’ll probably get covered in spit-up.”

She waves off your concern. “You know that Eddie had about a million of those shirts. I’ll just make more if it gets ruined.” 

You carefully fold it back up and tuck it into the box. There’s one gift left: a long, thin box from Wayne. Peeling off the wrapping paper, you unearth a wooden baby gate.

“I know Little Bean won’t be crawling around for awhile,” he says sheepishly, “but if this baby is anything like Eddie was as a tyke, you’ll need it sooner rather than later.”

“Those Munson genes are 99 percent mischief,” you agree with a giggle, swiping at your eyes to brush away the last of your tears. Looking around at the group of people gathered to celebrate you and your baby has a fresh wave of emotions crashing over you. Between the unexpected pregnancy, losing Eddie, beginning a new relationship, and the impending threat of the Upside Down, the last eight months have been nothing short of overwhelming. But here you are, alive, surrounded by people who love you.

“I’m gonna start putting this stuff in the car, okay, babe?” Steve whispers in your ear, pressing his hands on his knees and standing up. Wayne follows him, grabbing a few boxes on his way out.

Steve’s never spent time alone with Wayne Munson, so he’s surprised when the older man calls out to him. “Steve Harrington, right?”

“Y-Yes sir,” Steve stammers, swallowing his nerves. He doesn’t have his headphones, and this feels too much like the Vecna vision he’d had a few months back. Was Wayne going to berate him for being with you? 

But Wayne just sticks out his hand for Steve to shake. “Don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” he says, “and I figure we should, since you’re gonna be taking care of my grandbaby.”

Steve nods, trying to gather his courage. He used to be great at winning parents over, but those days were gone. “Yes, sir,” he says, more firmly this time, “but I promise you, I-I’m going to make sure Little Bean knows who Eddie was. I’m not trying to replace him or anything like that.” 

Wayne pulls out a cigarette, offering one from the pack to Steve, who declines politely. “I know that, son,” he mumbles, voice muffled from the cigarette between his lips. “Y/N has told me what a good guy you are. That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

“It’s not?”

He shakes his head. “Listen, kid,” he starts, using the name as a means of affection, rather than condescension, “I know what it’s like to raise someone else’s kid. Some days are gonna be hard. But you gotta remember that you’re not doing this alone.”

Steve smiles, feeling his body relax. “Yeah, Y/N told me how much you want to be involved when Little Bean arrives. And that’s what we want, too.” His gaze drops to the ground. “She was also telling me how much Eddie looked up to you. That he considered you to be his dad. Like, if you picked him up from school and someone said, ‘Eddie, your dad’s here,’ he wouldn’t even correct them.”

Wayne chuckles, taking a long drag and exhaling slowly. “He was my son. I would’ve done anything for him. If…if he was…here, and we had to fight those murder charges, I would’ve spent my last dime gettin’ him the most expensive lawyer in town.”

“My dad?” Steve says wryly before he can stop himself. “Sorry, I don’t…I don’t know why I said that.”

But Wayne raises his eyebrows. “Your dad is Greg Harrington?” When Steve nods, Wayne tenses up. “He’s, uh, he’s an interesting man,” he finishes lamely.

“He’s an asshole,” Steve blurts out. “He was barely a dad, and he never had any interest in being one. He wanted the title with none of the work. He’s everything I don’t wanna be for Little Bean.”

Wayne considers this as he ashes the cigarette and lights a new one. “If there’s one thing I learned from raising Eddie, it’s this: in the end, it don’t matter who’s blood they’ve got. What matters is who showed up to their school plays, or their concerts, or their parent-teacher meetings. The conversations you have at dinner, even when you ask how school was and they just say, ‘fine.’ The way you’re always in their corner, even if it feels like the world’s against you. That’s what matters.”

“Thanks, Mr. Munson,” Steve manages, absorbing the information as best as he can. 

“Call me Wayne.”

You fall asleep as soon as you get home. The baby shower was amazing, but it drained you physically and emotionally. What you planned on being a thirty minute nap on the couch turned into two hours, and you only woke up to the sound of hammering coming from the bedroom.

“Steve, what are you doing?” you ask from the doorway, putting your hands on your hips as much as your bump will allow.

“Wanted to surprise you,” he murmurs from where he’s sitting on the ground, and you walk in to see the crib nearly completely assembled. His sweater sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, showing off his muscular forearms. “Just figured you had enough to do, and it actually came together pretty easily so…”

“Can you stand up?”

“Huh? Yeah, everything–oof!” Steve grunts as you let your lips crash against his. You let out a soft whine as his fingertips brush down your spine, lighting a fire in your core. “Baby, what’s got you all worked up?” He laughs. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Just you,” you reply simply. “How you take care of me, how you love me, and how sexy you look when you build things. All tough and rugged.”

Steve smirks, bringing his thumb to your chin and tilting it upwards so he can kiss you again. “Mmm, did I mention that I had to use a screwdriver? Very manly.”

“Tell me more,” you tease, hooking your finger into his belt loop. 

“Had to make sure everything was nice and tight,” he murmurs, pulling you further into the bedroom and sitting you on the bed. He starts taking off his clothes before undressing you. “You know how I like it tight, don’t you, babe?”

“Fuck, Steve,” you whimper, feeling his hard length press against your hot, aching cunt. “You’re so hot; ‘s not even fair.”

He laughs, leaning down and kissing your neck. “If you’re turned on now, wait till you see me with my nail bat.” He lets his middle finger trail up along your wet folds, expertly finding your swollen bundle of nerves. It’s more difficult to get the right angles yourself these days, and Steve’s fingers are a welcome addition. You feel a slight stretch as he slips it inside you, pumping slowly and precisely. 

“R-Right there,” you moan, fingernails digging crescents into his shoulder blades. “Make me feel s’good, Stevie.”

Shifting his weight to his knees, Steve reaches over for a pillow and tucks it under your lower back. “That okay?” he asks softly, tutting disapprovingly when you nod. “Words, angel. Gotta use your words.”

“It’s great,” you say breathlessly, writhing in pleasure as his fingers sink deeper into you. “Would be even better if you were inside me, though.”

That earns a kind laugh from him while he continues pumping. “Patience. You know I have to get you off first, yeah?” His fingers curl against your sweet spot, and you feel the coil in your belly start to unravel. “God, you’re stunning when you cum f’me. So goddamn perfect.”

The euphoria that has become synonymous with Steve’s touch floods your senses, and you chant his name like a beautiful prayer. He slows his pace, bringing you down from the high, before withdrawing his fingers and cleaning them off with a swipe of his tongue.

“Now–please, Stevie,” you manage, and he doesn’t ask you to elaborate further, breeching your hole with the tip of his cock. The two of you groan in tandem as he rolls his hips slowly. He brings his hand to your cheek, admiring your beauty fully on display. “Just a little faster, wh-when you can.”

“Course,” he nods, licking his lips and pressing them to yours. Sweat beads on his forehead as he thrusts harder, leaving you twisting the bed sheets beneath you. “Wish you could see yourself right now. Taking me like this–fuck.” He keeps the pace for another few minutes, praising you the whole time. You swear you’ll never get tired of hearing him call you sweet girl. “Gonna come–shit, come with me, baby–” His brown eyes scrunch shut as his pelvis connects with yours one last time, and your second orgasm hits as he spills into you with a groan of your name. He hesitates for just a moment before pulling out, grabbing a tissue and cleaning you up before crashing down next to you.

You bring your gaze to meet his, to say the words that have been on your lips all night but you’ve been too fearful to say. “No matter what happens tomorrow, I want you to know how much I love you.” Your voice catches at the end, and Steve takes your hand and squeezes it.

“Y/N, nothing’s going to–”

“It might,” you interrupt. “I’m not saying it will, but it might. And if it does, I don’t want you to…to…without knowing for sure, okay?”

Steve considers this, pressing a chaste kiss to your bare shoulder. “Okay. I love you, too.”

The next morning comes all too quickly. Neither you nor Steve had slept much; both of you were riddled with anxiety about the events about to unfold. When the alarm clock bleats at 7:30 AM, you wipe the crust from your eyes and nudge your boyfriend.

“‘M already awake,” he grunts, kicking off the covers grumpily, “just hoping that I’d blend in with the bed and you’d think I’d left.”

You giggle despite the dire circumstances surrounding the day. “C’mon, let’s get ready and head to the Byers’. If we’re late, you know Dustin will kill us before Vecna even gets a chance to.”

As you grab your bag off of the floor, you feel a slight twinge in your lower back. There’s that pregnancy sciatica Mom warned me about, you think irritably, massaging the ache while you check and make sure that the Walkman and Black Dog cassette are there. As soon as Steve helps you put your shoes on–it seems like that will be his new task until Little Bean is born–you’re both out the door. 

The mood is somber at the Byers’ house as everyone gets ready to part, headed for their separate locations. The first group, lovingly nicknamed Team Upside Down, makes their way towards the various vehicles that will bring them into the woods. Chief Hopper takes the lead, wielding a bat and his Hawkins Sheriff Department shotgun. Jonathan follows Nancy, who heaves her rifle over her shoulder as Robin gingerly carries a bag filled with molotov cocktails. Dustin grasps his walkie talkie, and Mike walks with El and Will. Hopper presses a kiss to Joyce’s forehead before he leaves.

“We’ll let you guys know when El opens up a gate,” Dustin reminds your group, pointing towards the other half of the walkie set in Lucas’s hand. “Be ready to drive to wherever Vecna’s newest lair is.” Team Hawkins murmurs their acknowledgements, and you all sit down around the living room, awaiting your next moves.

“You have everything, right, Y/N?” Max pipes up, breaking the silence. You watch Lucas take her hand with his free one, caressing the back of it with his thumb.

“Yup, got it all in my bag.” You try to muster up some enthusiasm, but it falls flat. Another surge of sciatic pain hits you, and you grimace. Luckily, everyone is too distracted to notice.

After about twenty minutes, Lucas’s walkie begins to crackle. “Team Hawkins, do you copy?”

“This is Team Hawkins. We copy,” Lucas quickly replies. “What’s your status?”

“El opened the gate in a tree. We have successfully infiltrated the Upside Down, and El is resting while Will tries to find Vecna’s lair,” Dustin says. “We’ll let you know when we have a location.”

Lucas gives Team Hawkins a thumbs-up. “Affirmative. Godspeed, Team Upside Down.” With the gate now opened, there’s a nervous energy buzzing through the house. You’re all pulling on jackets and boots so that there’s no delay when Dustin’s next announcement comes through.

“How long do you think this’ll take?” Erica asks, biting her thumbnail anxiously. She turns to Murray and says, “you know everything. Is this gonna take awhile?”

Murray lets out a bitter chuckle. “As flattered as I am that you think I know everything–the closest you’ve ever come to giving me a compliment, by the way–I have no idea. It all depends on Will.”

Joyce has her lips pressed together in a thin line, absolutely petrified at the thought of her baby boy leading the group to Vecna. “Will’s been connected to him, or the Mind Flayer, or whoever, for a long time,” she says finally. “As long as he can keep that connection, it shouldn’t take too long at all.”

Sure enough, about fifteen minutes later, Dustin’s voice blares through the walkie talkie. “Team Hawkins, do you copy? We’ve located the lair; I repeat, we’ve located the lair!”

Joyce jumps up and grabs the walkie from Lucas. “Where is it?” 

“The arachnid exhibit at the Hawkins Zoo,” Dustin tells her. “It’s in a red shed-like hut. Clear everyone out and have someone stand guard outside, got it?”

“Got it,” Team Hawkins echoes, You and Steve get into his car along with the kids, and Joyce and Murray take hers.

Max speaks first. “Once we get there, I should be able to track him. We just need to stay quiet so I can concentrate.”

“I feel bad for Team Upside Down,” Lucas mutters. “Imagine asking Dustin to be quiet.” Everyone laughs at that; the thought of Dustin having to stay silent for more than a minute seems like a more impossible task than bringing down Vecna.

Steve hits a pothole, jostling the whole car. “Careful,” you mutter, placing a hand over your stomach. Little Bean kicks in agreement.

The zoo is a short drive from the Byers’ house, and you get there just a few seconds before Murray and Joyce do. Everyone is raring to race towards the arachnid exhibit, and you feel awful that they’re slowing down their pace for you. The whole zoo is nearly devoid of people, with most of the town still reeling from the “earthquake,” and the hut is completely empty. Still, Murray volunteers to wait outside and tell people that the exhibit is temporarily closed.

“No karate,” Joyce warns, but the man doesn’t make any promises.

Lucas relays the message of your arrival to Team Upside Down, who give him the go-ahead to lure Vecna in. Everyone turns to Steve with sullen faces, ambivalent about what they know they have to do. Vecna isn’t stupid; he won’t fall for the same trick that Max pulled back in the Creel house. Instead of offering to sacrifice himself, Steve has to endure something much more emotionally painful.

“You guys can start, like, whenever,” he shrugs, taking a seat on the floor and pulling the headphones over his ears. “I’m ready when you are.”

Erica bites her lower lip. “It just feels…wrong, y’know?”

“I know,” Steve nods, “but you won’t mean it. Just pretend like you do.” He turns to Max. “Mayfield, y’good?”

“Yup,” she answers, shutting her eyes ritualistically and taking a seat next to him. “I can’t sense him yet, but I’ll tap three times on the floor when I do.”

Steve looks up at the Sinclair siblings expectantly. “It’s now or never.”

They begin just like they’d rehearsed. “Steve, I can’t believe you’d do this to Eddie!” Lucas says, anger ripping through his voice. “You watched him die, and then you stole his girlfriend. What kind of a friend are you?”

“Eddie trusted you,” Erica chimes in, looking at her brother for confirmation that she’s playing the part correctly. “He trusted you, and you betrayed him!”

“You’re pathetic, Steve! Couldn’t even get your own girl; had to wait until your friend died and then you took his.” 

It goes on like this for a few minutes before Max opens her eyes. “Guys, I’m…I’m not getting anything,” she admits. “Maybe my connection isn’t strong enough anymore, or…” She trails off without finishing her sentence.

“Or what?” Joyce asks, fear rising in her voice.

Max sighs, blinking a few times. “Or maybe…the wrong person is talking.” 

You feel everyone staring in your direction. “No, I-I’m just here to play the music,” you croak, holding up the Walkman lamely. “I can’t…”

“You have to, honey. I know you won’t mean it, but you have to say it like you do,” Steve says softly, reaching out and taking your hand. “This is bigger than us. I can take a few measly insults if it means saving the world.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. Every part of you wants to shout no, wants to refuse to do what he’s asking. But Eddie didn’t run away, and neither will you.

“Okay,” you reluctantly agree, standing up slowly. A sour taste rests on your tongue, and your stomach is in knots just thinking about saying such awful things. “Okay, I’ll do it.” Taking a deep breath, you yell as loudly as you can.

“Steve Harrington, you’re a horrible friend! I can’t believe I fell for your bullshit,” you sputter. “You’re selfish, and you never loved me. How could you possibly love anyone, when you’re too infatuated with yourself? I know that the only reason you even want to be with me is because Nancy turned down your stupid ‘six little nuggets’ dream, and you jumped at the opportunity to be with me once you found out I was pregnant.” There’s one more part that’s so mean, you don’t even want to think it. But Max hasn’t signaled Vecna’s presence, so you blurt it out before you lose your nerve.

“I bet you wanted Eddie to die, just so you could take what was his!”

Tap

Tap 

Tap

Max’s pointer finger hits the floor thrice, and just as she does, Steve’s eyelids start to flutter. You hear Lucas whisper into the walkie, informing Team Upside Down that the monster has been lured to his lair. Team Hawkins watches Steve in stunned silence, waiting for something to happen.

Suddenly, Steve starts to levitate, and Erica presses the Walkman’s play button. The music is loud, and you can hear the opening lyrics clearly. But Steve keeps floating higher.

“Why isn’t it working?” you cry out, grabbing Joyce’s hand. “It’s the right song! And I know it’s playing! So why isn’t it working?”

The opportunity to respond is cut short by a sickening crack. Steve’s left arm snaps clean in half, the right one shaking back-and-forth.

“STEVE!” you scream, and your throat feels raw as soon as the words leave your mouth. “Steve, fight! Please, Steve, we need you!” Your cries are punctuated by the sound of his leg breaking.

“Do you have any other music?” Erica asks, already digging through your bag. She pulls out another cassette. “What’s this?”

“Little Bean’s heartbeat,” you murmur. “Steve recorded it during the first ultrasound he went to. I…I forgot it was in there.” You take it from her and tug on the Walkman cord until the music player falls from Steve’s belt loop. You pop out Black Dog and quickly start playing the new tape. After the longest five seconds of your life, you see Steve start to slowly drop down, though he stays suspended in mid-air as he battles the vine-covered beast,

“Guys,” Dustin’s voice once again fills the room. “Eddie’s here.”

It takes a moment for his comment to register. You take the walkie to speak to him. “No,” you say, surprised by the firmness in your tone, “it’s not him. Not really. He’s just Vecna’s puppet. You can’t trust him, okay? Just stay focused!”

“Shut up, slut!” Eddie hisses into Dustin’s walkie. “Haven’t you done enough?”

You wince at his words; even though you know it’s not him, they still sting. A memory flits through your mind: when you and Steve had that joint Vecna vision, Eddie was able to temporarily snap out of the trance. Maybe you could do it again; you don’t have any other options at this point.

“Eddie, listen!” you tell him, holding the walkie as close to Steve’s headphones. “That’s your baby’s heartbeat!” You let it play for another five seconds before taking your hand off of the mic button.

There’s total quiet, and for a moment, you wonder if your plan failed. But then you hear his voice, surprised and soft. “My…my baby?”

“Yes!” Mike says now, “Y/N is pregnant; she’s due next month. Keep listening. Stay with us, okay?”

“I can’t…fight him off for long, H-Hurts…” The pain in Eddie’s voice is evident, and you want nothing more than to wrap him in a reassuring hug. 

“I know, man, I know. But you gotta do this for her. And for your baby, okay?” Dustin pleads. 

You force yourself to be strong, no matter how petrified you are. The building tension is a knife in your gut. “Please, Eddie. We need you.”

“Y/N?” It’s like he’s hearing you for the first time, like he’s just Eddie, rather than the grotesque manipulation. “Is that really you?

“Yes, it’s me! I love you, Eddie. I’ll always love you, no matter what happens.” You push past the tears, keeping an eye on Steve’s body. His right fist is clenched, and his left arm and leg remain broken, but nothing else has happened. “Just…please, help us fight him. Then you’ll finally be free.”

Dustin must be keeping the walkie on, because you hear everything that happens next. El screams at the top of her lungs, and you can hear Vecna choking. “She’s losing strength!” Mike yells. “She can’t keep this up for long.”

“Eddie, what are you–” Dustin starts, but he’s interrupted by a battle cry. All you want is to know exactly what’s going on, but Dustin won’t be able to hear you unless he turns off his mic. There’s a loud howl, followed by a thud. Gunshots permeate the atmosphere, and you hear Nancy shout out, “Now, Robin!” The molotov cocktails explode, and for a moment, you think the walkie talkie might combust from the volume. Steve’s body clatters to the ground, and Joyce scrambles to help him sit up.

There’s a yelp of pain on the other end of the walkie, and you immediately recognize that it’s coming from Eddie. “Eddie, you did it!” You hear Dustin saying. “You–you stabbed Vecna. You saved us.”

“H-Henderson,” Eddie’s mumbling, “‘m so tired…”

“I know,” the boy says, and the emotion in his voice transcends dimensions. “You can rest now, okay? Y/N is safe. Your baby is safe. You’re a hero.”

“T-Tell her I’m p-proud…” 

And then he’s gone. Again.

“Eddie?” you sob, barely registering Erica rubbing your back. “Eddie, where are you?” 

“Team Hawkins, do you copy?”

“Yes, Dustin, we copy!” you yell. “Where did Eddie go?”

There’s a pause. “He was too enmeshed with Vecna,” he says slowly. “And when Vecna died…I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You’ve lost him. For the second time in eight months, you lost Eddie Munson. When you heard him this time, a part of you thought that maybe he’d be fully free once the monster had been defeated. That his mind, body, and soul would belong to him again. That he’d be able to meet his baby.

Dustin clears his throat, snapping you from your thoughts. “We’re gonna climb back through the tree,” he tells you. “But, Y/N…he’s at peace now. Really, truly at peace.”

Your legs give out beneath you as you crumble, your chest violently heaving as you scream-sob on the floor of the arachnid exhibit. 

Steve presses a kiss to your scalp. “We’ll get through this,” he says, and only when you look at him are you reminded of his broken limbs.

“Steve, we have to get you to a hospital,” you blurt out, just as a pressure builds against your pelvis. A rush of liquid runs down your leg, tinged light pink with blood. “What–”

“We need to get you both to the hospital,” Joyce leaps into action, taking Steve’s keys and rushing you both towards the cars. 

“But I’m not due for another month,” you protest. “This can’t be–” A cramp, or, you now realize, a contraction, rolls through you. “Little Bean…” “Will be just fine,” Steve reassures you. “C’mon, let’s go have this baby.”

--

[redheadspark]

For your may prompts!

16. Being ready for the next step with Oliver Wood, I miss him.

happy writing!

A/N - YAY STELLA! I love this request for our boy Oliver! How fantastic, thanks for requesting this bestie!

Present

Summary - Oliver only wanted to think of the future and what was ahead, and all you can think about was the present.

Warnings - nothing but fluff for Oliver!

"We need to go over the plan again,"

"What plan, Oli?"

"Our main plan! You know, the plan of all plans!"

"Darling, I think there has been a hiccup with that plan, clearly,"

Oliver paused as you were perched in your chair, eyeing him with a wide grin as he was looking from your eyes over to the clear evidence that was on your lower stomach.

Your pregnant stomach, shows you were due in 3 weeks.

Oliver, being the over-planner since his earlier days in Hogwarts as the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain for some years, wanted to plan out his future as a married couple. You both had decent jobs and were making decent money, especially since you two were young and recently married.

The only hiccup that did happen was the Second Wizarding War that took place at your old school, to which you both went to fight against Voldemort and the Death Eaters. It was a long and violent night, though you both made it out alive. Since Voldemort's defeat, Oliver wanted to move on and have a normal life with you. As did the rest of the world, but especially Oliver.

So now, a year after the Battle at Hogwarts and things once again calming down, you found out you were pregnant. You were shocked, but it wasn't too scandalous or a big ordeal. Oliver wanted kids, he grew up around plenty of cousins and little ones in his home and he grew attached to the thought of being a dad. You wanted kids too, though you were thinking that you were a bit farther down the lane in your marriage. But you both were excited, about having a new little one in the world to care for and to raise,

Better now than back when Voldemort was still at large.

"This little one has made a hiccup in our plan, Mr. Wood," You reminded him as he sat on the same ottoman where your feet were perched, taking one foot in hand and massaging the swollen ankles and the sole of your foot, "And although we are excited to have a little one around here very soon...I know you're anxious,"

"How can I not be?" Oliver asked in a shrug, "We're still healin' from what happened. The Weasleys still need us, they haven't been the same since..."

He paused, looking down for a second and you knew who he was talking about. You hummed.

"I know, sweetheart." You reassured him, "I think you've been doing an amazing job looking after Ginny and George, even Molly has been telling me you're amazing for helping her and the family,"

"They've been my second family for some time, apart from you," Oliver hummed with a small smile as he continued his massage on your other foot, "I'm glad we have George as the Godfather,"

"I'm quite surprised you didn't ask Harry," You tased him as he pinched your ankle in retaliation, "We need to invite him and Teddy over for dinner one of these days, after the baby comes,"

"I'd like that," Oliver agreed, you rubbing your belly and leaning back a bit in your chair, "You think we're ready for this? Being parents and having a baby around here?"

"Yes, yes I do," He replied instantly, making your smile go big as he placed your feet back on the ottoman before facing you, running his fingers up and down your leg.

"It's gonna be a huge step for us," You reminded him.

"Aye, but a step we can take together," He explained, "I keep thinkin' back to if we were doin' this during the war, and if somethin' would have happened to ya. I'm just...I'm glad we're doin' this now,"

You sat up a bit and took his hand in your own, feeling him hold your hand nice and tight. Olived love you with all of him, every ounce and every inch. Working so hard to get where you were, dealing with and surviving a War that almost ruined everything for you, it seemed as though you two could conquer anything. You would do anything, be anything, to be with Oliver and to have this happiness stay.

"Me too," You agreed as Oliver leaned over to kiss your cheek lovingly, "And I am still not convinced that we were having a daughter."

Oliver laughed, "I think we are! Didn't it say in that muggle book that if your belly's low it's a girl?"

"Since when do you read those books?" You asked him in a mocked challenging tone.

"Since I found out I'm gonna be a Da!" He replied, poking your side, "Our little gal is gonna be a flyer, like her mum, and a quidditch player, just like her Da!"

"We'll have to see, won't we? And don't start planning her life out already, Oli! Wait until she comes at least!"

"Okay okay!" He replied

He kept that promise, waiting until his daughter Poppy Wood was placed in his arms 3 weeks later.

The End

May Prompt Session

[quitealotofsodapop]

HiB Sequel/Au Ideas

I have a lot of thoughts on Monkey King: Hero is Back, and I've complied most of them here. It has such a fascinating concept, especially in regards to how the timeline of "Journey to the West" has been permanently altered by Hundun/Chaos.

Timeline changes cus of Events in Story:

Sun Wukong/Dasheng is pretty much "on probation" since he busted out early + asks for a huge favor from the gods at the end of HiB. Guanyin is the one to agree to change the headband to the armlet/chain cuff/buddha ankle-monitor. SWK might get it removed if he stays on good behavior.

Jiang Liuer (same name as the Tang Monk/Tripitaka when he was young), is a small child + dies at the hand of Hundun, but is somehow revived by the credits. Oddly enough, he's said by the production team to be the Ninth Cicada rather than the Tang Monk's Tenth. Maybe literally dying counted as a -1 life? The tie-in videogame shows it more clearly; Dasheng was involved in Liuer's revival and is shown begging/threatening the gods in the credit art, holding Liuer in his arms.

Zhu Bajie isn't married (yet). He also is probably lying about what he did to reincarnate as a pig demon.

Fa Ming is a cool af old man who isn't even tied to any big mythos character. Just a really cool mortal buddhist who went "Hey, free grandson!" when Liuer floated down the river in the prologue.

Sha Wujing has likely *just* been kicked out of heaven. According to a comment by the films director, this version of Sha Wujing may be fem.

Ao Lie has yet to set his dad's house on fire. Might do it on accident in future. Was a real bro and helped SWK get to Hundun during their battle. And according to the credits to the videogame, helped return many of the kidnapped children to their parents.

Theories:

Sha Ya Tou/"Silly Girl" is actually the Red Child/Hong Hai'er. She was kidnapped prior to the story by Hundun's forces to act as the flame for the furnace. Hence her extreme luck, lack of fear, taste for rare meat, and her little "horn" ponytails. If Hundun had pushed his luck, he would have had a Syndrome vs Jack-Jack situation on his hands. Her parents are currently very worried and tearing every village apart trying to find her.

Hundun/Chaos is literally an avatar of the Great Peril, but he loses his identity when he reverts back to the Original Hundun. His ritual was so he could maintain/prolong his humanoid form. He's sacrificed human children before in similar rituals, and initially set his sights on Liuer (the current Golden Cicada) as a baby for this goal - but assumed him lost/dead after Liuer's birth family were slaughtered.

The "mountain trolls/yaoguai" arent inherently evil, but they follow whoevers the strongest. Hence why they started cheering for SWK when he began overpowering Hundun.

Fic things under Read More:

Potiential Fic Timeline:

LEM has already made a name for themselves by hunting humans that prey on demons, and by spreading the tale of their thought-to-be-lost friend Sun Wukong. Then a Stone Egg smashes down next to him one day just after a solar eclipse. Coincidence? >:3

Meanwhile, Sun Wukong is busy beating down the door to the Underworld wanting his son/tudi/friend/ pest back. The Kings of Hell are hesistant to do anything cus you know, until...

King Yama, uninterested: "Gee, thats a tall order. Buuuut death is a mortal inevitablity, and you're still supposed to be under the mountain so..." Guanyin, phases in: "The child is the Golden Cicada." All the Kings of Hell: "HE'S WHAT!?" "Sweet buddha, get that kid's soul back in there pronto!" "He's not suppose to be dead yet!" Dasheng: *gives Guanyin a thumbs-up* "thanks" Guanyin: "Don't think you get off scott-free, sage. You're still supposed to be getting punished." Dasheng: *nervous gulp as he accepts his fate* *the chain cuff from the mountain is slapped back on Dasheng's wrist* Guanyin: "However, your actions towards this little monk has succesfully reduced your sentence. I believe as long as you stay by him, you won't run into too much trouble" *cheeky wink* Dasheng, relieved: "I suppose I could do a lot worse."

Liuer is able to be revived, but is in a comatose state for around 49 days as his soul internally "reincarnates". In this state he manages to pass on messages between SWK and an "unknown warrior" (LEM) via their dreams.

Pigsy, SWK, Fa Ming, and the newly-welcomed Ao Lie spend a lot of time reuniting the stolen children with their families.

Fa Ming bonds with SWK over the weeks caring for the cometose Liuer. SWK is reminded of Master Subodhi and gets wistful. Fa Ming entrusts SWK to care for Liuer when he's gone. SWK agrees, but is internally panicking.

Bonus complication; Silly Girl's parents have yet to be found. And even with his weakened powers, Dasheng's gold-vision tells him that she's not what she seems...

One night, Liuer manages to convey to SWK that Mount Huaguo is under attack by hunters. SWK in his haste; bundles all of his new little troop onto the Sommersault Cloud and flies towards Mount Huaguo.

SWK goes to rescue his missing/captured subjects from the main hunters camp. He finds the hunters already being torn apart by LEM. They have a mutual "oh shit, its my old crush/best friend I thought died in the war"-moment. Liuer reveals himself to be awake at the very end of the encounter.

Both monkeys see eachother alive + a kid (SWK and Liuer, LEM and the Stone Egg) and a romantic comedy ensues. Until...

Guanyin: "Hey gang, sorry to burst your bubble. But the big guys upstairs are a little peeved. Seems like the manifestation of primordial chaos messing with things on earth, has literally thrown the entire timeline off course. The Buddha needs you to check in on places where chaos is at it's most rampant. Don't worry about directions, I'll cc them to the little cicada. Ok? Byyyeeee!" *leaves* The whole gang: "wut." Liuer, eyes glowing: "We should go westward." Dasheng, groaning: "And I just got back home!"

+Stone Egg Bonus:

After seeing the poster for the upcoming prequel to HiB, I have determined that the baby monkey inside the egg would most likely be born/hatched out with white/cream-coloured fur and very fluffy. Therefore I will declare this little "MK" variant; Xiaoyún/小云 (Little Cloud).

[theravenclawlover]

🎃Kinktober Day 15🎃

Day Prompt: Omorashi/Roleplay/Human Furniture

Word Count: 1,077

Warnings: There's a bit of hinted smut at the end and my English as usual.

A/N: I know that I could have made Kate and archer but I liked the idea of Knight, ya know? This also is not smutty. I tried but it came out a lot more cuter than indented :)

Kate Bishop x F!Reader

Neither of you had any intentions of showing up to the Renaissance Faire, but Kate had gotten invited to go, and thus you got dragged with her. Neither of you had a costume for it, so there came your first excuse, but they had been prepared for it. Kate had been dressed as a knight because she had glared at the dresses they had pulled out. You, on the other hand, ended up having to choose a dress because they were out of knight costumes that could fit you.

So now you were walking around with Kate in said costumes, smiling as people enjoyed themselves in their own little world. You were fascinated with what other people had opted to wear, their minds allowing them to bring to life what felt like their vision of their characters. Everyone was very nice too, complimenting you left and right, and knights nodded toward one another in respect. You couldn’t help but giggle every time Kate had to improvise for someone that approached you both. A fair share of them sought a blessing from a princess—you guessed that’s what you had been dressed for—before going to battle. It was really funny and a few times you blushed at their flirting.

It drove Kate jealous the more Knights and just other people complimented you, and you were slightly enjoying the way she would pull you closer to her, making it obvious that the Princess was already in love with someone else.

When your whole group had decided to eat, you headed to one of the taverns they had, and it was like stepping into medieval times even more than walking around with people in costumes.

And it was so much fun, the music, the laughter, and even the semi-drunks added to the ambiance. But the flirting didn’t stop. And Kate couldn’t handle much any longer. And when you were about to apologize for not stopping accepting compliments like a schoolgirl, she was offering a hand almost as if playing the role.

“May I speak with you, fair Princess? I won’t take much of your time,” she said. You hesitated for a nanosecond before spotting a glint of mischief behind her eyes.

“Of course,” you limited to say as you felt your face heat up as your friends laughed and whistled. You grabbed Kate’s hand, and she pulled you away. You both walked out of the tavern, stepping into chiller weather as the sun hinted at the late afternoon.

“I hope today’s hasn’t been too much,” she said with a small smile. “I’m aware that my being a Knight has brought the attention of a fair number of interested men.”

You giggled at her weird speech, but you tried to keep yourself together as you looked at her.

“I’ve enjoyed myself,” you said with a bright smile. She smiled. “Living in a castle makes moments like this feel wonderful even when there is the unsolicited attention of men. As flattering as it may be, my heart has already been stolen.”

Kate seemed to slightly break from her act as she giggled, but she carried on walking as you did too. You walked toward the back of an empty stand that had been cleared from what it had been selling. Kate and you finding comfort in the hidden spot.

“May I know who’s been lucky enough to be granted the gift of your love?” she inquired seriously as if she didn’t know the answer. You played along.

“I believe is someone you know very well,” you said, a grin spreading on your lips as you toyed with the material of her costume.

“Do I now?”

“Yes,” you whispered. “The most wonderful, strongest, bravest, and fearless person I’ve ever met.”

“They sound like they are worth the title of Knight,” she said, closing the space between you both. Your back softly thudded against the wall.

“She is,” you mumbled. Your eyes landed on her lips, her pink lips she was biting as she stared at your own lips.

“May I kiss you?” whispered Kate as her gloved hand touched your cold cheek. You sighed as you leaned into her touch.

“You don’t need to ask.” Her lips were on you as soon as the words left your mouth. Your hands grabbed at her the best you could, trying to pull her impossibly close to you. Her hands were on your face, grabbing you to kiss you in the softness of manners. It was one of those kisses that left you breathless, the kind that made your legs weak. But as innocent as it started, it turned a lot more needy as her hands dragged down to touch your covered body. Even through the layers, you felt like you could feel the heat her hands always provided.

“Will you always be mine?” she asked as her mouth moved to nip at your jaw. You rolled your eyes.

“Always,” you said, moving to face her. “My heart belongs with you.”

“Even when I’m away in battle?”

You looked at her, the first time you let your answer rest on your tongue as you looked at her. The question felt fitting to her role, but it was Kate who asked this. The moment to let a tinge of insecurity be dressed like you two were.

“Always, my love,” you said, eyes trying to convey the same message. “Even when you’re away because you leave with my heart, while I await for you to bring it back.”

It had been reassuring, it seemed, as the kiss she gave you felt a lot needier than the one before and so did the feeling of her hands that wanted to touch you even more. Her hands cupped your breasts which was the only part of your body that had the opportunity to feel her touch. But she wanted more, and so did you, and her hands seemed to have a mind of their own as one of them lifted your dress, seeking your clothed pussy. Your breath hitched as she found your inner thighs.

“Kate,” you whispered, as you parted your legs while her lips trailed kisses from your jaw to your chest. “Please.”

The sound of a door slamming open followed the loud sound of laughter. Kate pulled away, fixing your dress and finding a good distance. Your friends were out and talking with joy.

“We’ll finish this in your quarters, m’lady,” she grinned before kissing you again.

[last-lorekeeper]

New video! Hurray!

[It's a video (see, told ya). Zinnia is sitting atop her desk, Aster next to her. As the last of the students file in, she leans backwards until she's essentially perpendicular with the floor.

Zinnia: Hello my lovely students. Welcome to the cool classroom. We do cool things here.

She laughs and sits back up, crossing her legs.

Zinnia: So, last week and the week before we talked about the tribes of Hoenn. Now, you may have noticed that despite me talking at length about them, they're not really all that present in modern day Hoenn. They're not gone by any means but they're much smaller and less widespread. The Oceanids largely stick to Pacifidlog Town and Dewford, the Gaiads largely stick to Lavaridge, and the Draconids hang out in Meteor Village. Ours is the best and coolest, obviously, which is why its the hardest to find.

She uncrosses her legs and slides off of the desk.

Zinnia: So you may be wondering "Well what happened? Why are all the tribes so small now?" The answer to that is simple:

She holds up a finger.

Zinnia: The Monarchy.

She begins pacing.

Zinnia: Yep, once again Monarchs come to ruin everything. If you've taken Raifort's class you're almost certainly intimately familiar with that fact.

She stops in front of the smart board and pulls out a pointer. A physical one.

Zinnia: So, the Hoenn Royal Family. It all starts with these motherfuckers.

Two photos of paintings appear on the smartboard. They're both of battle scarred kings with color schemes matching Groudon and Kyogre. Zinnia smacks the smartboard with her pointer.

Zinnia: These are Grodunn and Kjogur, I bet you can't guess which one is which.

A student raises their hand.

Zinnia: That was rhetorical.

The student lowers their hand.

Zinnia: These guys were brothers and the kings of Hoenn way, way, waaaaaayyyy back in the day. They sucked, which is obvious because they're kings. Now, what particularly sucked about them, was they hated each other and they decided to make it everyone else's problem. Because we can't have two kings, no that'd be too logical and reasonable. Oh, also they were the Chosens of Groudon and Kyogre respectively so that didn't help.

Aster makes a noise. Zinnia makes the classic "silly me" gesture which looks mildly unhinged on her.

Zinnia: Oh dear you're right. I completely forgot to explain what a Chosen is. How silly of me. Basically, a Chosen is a person that a Legendary decides to bless with special powers. Usually they do this for a specific purpose, such as Groudon and Kyogre, who use their Chosens to free them so they can continue their eternal war, and Rayquaza, who uses its Chosen to stop the other two.

Zinnia flops down into her chair and spins around.

Zinnia: Anyways, the two started a massive, bloody Civil War in Hoenn. Seriously, these guys make the Aqua and Magma conflict look like a civil disagreement. What's worse, eventually they did manage to release Groudon and Kyogre as one would expect from the Cycle. But luckily, Sir Aaron, Aura Guardian and Chosen of Rayquaza, was there to stop them.

The smartboard changes to an image of the Sir Aaron and Lucario portrait from Cameran Palace.

Zinnia: Together with Coriander, Draconid Lorekeeper, and Sir Galahad, fellow Aura Guardian, they sealed away Kyogre and Groudon's power within the Blue and Red Orbs alongside the spirits of Grodunn and Kjogur, once again bringing peace to the land.

She shrugs.

Zinnia: A lot of that is considered hearsay, though. We don't actually know if its really true. But I have a primary source known as the Ghost of Sir Aaron backing me up on this so...

She shrugs again.

Zinnia: At the very least, Grodunn and Kjogur were real guys and the Civil War for sure happened. Afterwards, the entire Royal Family decided that they'd offended the gods and the only way to fix that was to name every male Norman. No, that is not a joke.

She leaps up from the chair.

Zinnia: Speaking of Normans, lets talk about a personal least favorite of mine, Norman the Mad.

A painting of Norman the Mad and an image of a Spiritomb appear on the board. Zinnia smacks the painting.

Zinnia: This is what he looked like when he was alive.

She smacks the Spiritomb picture.

Zinnia: This is what he looks like now. Well, not actually, this is just a random Spiritomb. Nobody's going down into the Hoenn Royal Tombs to take pictures of this bastard.

She takes a deep breath.

Zinnia: So... what's his deal? Well, basically, he was insane. Apparently Groudon and Kyogre made the mistake of Choosing the same guy and when you're Chosen by two Legendaries at once, especially two who are constantly in conflict with eachother, it tends to drive you a bit, well, Mad. His exploits were kind of funny, looking back on them, but at the time a lot of people got killed because of him. In the end, his soul was sealed within a Spiritomb and locked away in the Hoenn Royal Tombs. That one's also considered heresy but I have a Primary Source for it too. I've met Norman the Mad the Spiritomb and he's an asshole and I hate him.

She takes another deep breath.

Zinnia: Final one and then we're done. Time for one I hate more than Norman the Mad because she hits very close to home. And yes, I did say she. We're getting a queen this time. Byrd the First. Why is she the First? Cause Byrd the Second is currently tearing up the Contest Circuit somewhere. Good for her. Should have called her (Byrd the First not Byrd the Second, Byrd the Second's fine) Byrd the Terrible though cause she was Terrible. She basically exiled and/or killed everyone she didn't like. Draconids, Oeanids, Gaiads, psychics, non-Trifectists. Pretty much everybody, honestly. She's why all of Hoenn's tribes are so small and scattered. Worst part is, she claimed to be doing this in the name of Lord Rayquaza. The only ostensibly "good" thing she ever did was establish the modern routes we use today but that's a matter of opinion and also wasn't worth everything else.

She flops back down into the chair.

Zinnia: And we're done. The Royal Family's still around these days but they have basically no power despite pretending they do. Only one who really matters is Norman the... 16th? 17th? Eh, I don't care, Gym Leader of Petalburd City and step-father to my girlfriend. The end.

The bell rings.

Zinnia: Thanks for coming, guys. Have a good one. We'll be having a quiz on this next week so I don't have to actually do work. Don't worry, it'll be pretty straightforward and simple! Bye!

The video ends]

//Hoenn Royal Family Lore by @darlingvirus

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Ello! May I request a small oneshot or headcanon a Good ending for our boi strangled red and Miki? :3 basically like child Reader/Y/n has a Xatu as they’re best companion and is friends with steven and mike! [maybe like a sibling like/mentor like mixed with Friend bond?].Anyways so Chid Y/n notices they’re Xatu is acting weird and ask what’s wrong,nothing happens UNTIL it’s night time,the child gets the vision from they’re Xatu about the Creepypasta aka ya know the whole Drama with Miki,Mike and Steven. Y/n tries to tell the three but they don’t really believe the kid,idk.When the day arrives the child tries with all they’re attempt to make it not happen or atleast save Miki! ^^ sorry this is very specific and long! ^^

This turned out to be anything but small ghshghs but enjoy! Considering Xatu is my fav psychic-type I loved writing for them <3

............

As a child coming from a family of Xatu-interpreters, it would only make sense for you to have one of your own. 

Your once skittish Natu companion evolved into a loyal friend that could help you make various predictions, such as the weather or what events may happen later in the day.

Of course, not many folks were inclined to believe the pokedex’s claims that Xatus could see into the past and future. Compared to your hometown in Johto, people in Kanto weren’t nearly as superstitious.

But when you moved here and Steven and Mike, they were impressed that your Pokémon correctly predicted them receiving their starters the very next day, becoming fast friends with you from there onward.

While you were a few years too young to start your journey, they taught you everything they knew about Pokémon battling in the event that it was necessary to defend yourself.

However being brothers with different strategies led to...often contradictory advice: Steven might explain how raising stats will help your Pokémon seize victory, only for Mike to claim that the only stats that mattered are whatever made opponents faint quicker.

Regardless, you listened to their every word. Obviously right now you weren’t looking to strain your Xatu’s psychic powers in any fight unless they were willing to. 

They spent most of their days meditating while gazing at the sun, or following you around town and being the voice of reason whenever you tried making impulsive decisions (such as buying dozens of ultra balls to catch wild Pokémon yourself).

Mike had joked that they’re acting like a full-time parent towards you...and in a way, it felt like that.

But as the brothers grew to be powerful trainers, you could see they’ve somehow inspired your Xatu. Their psychic energy became a lot stronger as well. In fact, they wanted to be taught better moves and help you weaken wild Pokémon enough to catch them, proving they was capable of battling beyond self-defense.

Sometime later, they foresaw Steven becoming the new champion--and when that came to pass in reality, both of you showed up at the Indigo League to celebrate his victory.

It was amazing! And it gave you the hope of having more optimistic outcomes in the near future.

They were certainly giving you a head start in your Pokémon journey.

..........

“Good morning, Xatu! You ready for today?” Excited, you brought Xatu out into the living room, smiling at them in greeting.

However, that wasn’t to last as you noticed they were standing unusually still, not acknowledging you as their gaze was fixated on the wall. But you knew they were actually staring at the sun's current position in the sky, always knowing where it is.

You've read about why they'd fall into a trance like this.

That's only if they saw something bad happening in the future, becoming so afraid that it can't be changed that....they'd simply seize all movements.

"What's wrong?" You tilted your head. "What do you see?"

You'd think that considering your close bond, they'd trust you enough to relay their vision to you...yet they appeared extremely hesitant. As if scared you'll be angry or upset if they told you.

“Xatuuuu..you know you can tell me. I won’t get upset, I promise.” You whined, before an idea struck you and a mischievous smirk appeared on your face. “....okay then. I’m gonna head out with Steven and buy a hundred max potions that I don’t need! You better come stop me!!”

Then you ran towards the front door, pausing to see if they would follow you or at least stop you from walking out.

Yet there was no reaction. It was like if they couldn’t hear or see you.

They never stood this still when it predicted Zapdos bringing a dangerous lightning storm into town, nor Team Rocket’s takeover of Pokémon Tower.

So what could it have possibly seen that was worse?

Sighing in defeat, you walked back over to them. “I thought that would work. C’mon, Steven’s waiting for us."

“........”

“...okay, you can stay here if you want.” You gave in, knowing that you couldn’t force a Xatu out of meditation. “You’ll know where I’ll be. Just don't stress too much, alright?”

“...tu.”

Finally there was a response. It was quiet, but it made you feel better to see they weren’t completely silent. While their behavior worried you greatly, you didn’t want your friends to worry about that.

So when you heard a knock at the door, you went over to open it and greet Steven and Miki with a smile. 

“Hey, Stevie!” You looked at the Charizard, who lowered her head and allowed you to pet her horns, grumbling happily as you did so. “Hey, Miki. How are you?”

“We’ve been pretty great.” Steven nodded in greeting, though he frowned slightly. “I heard you talking to Xatu. Is..something up with them?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “They’ve been acting weird all morning, stuck in some trance. It’s normal for them, though, so I’m trying not to worry too much. They wanna stay home today.”

“Alright, well..you wanna head to the Safari Zone? I went ahead and paid for all three of us.”

“Awh yea! Thank you, Steven!!” You grinned in excitement. “But..you’re the champion, shouldn't they let you in for free?"

“Maybe in my dreams, they will.” He chuckled. “C’mon. Let’s get you some Pokémon.”

“Alrighty!”

You’ll worry about Xatu later. They’ll be okay without you for a few hours.

Maybe some time alone is all they needed.

.......

When you returned home later that night, you were happy about all of the new Pokémon you caught in the Safari Zone. It was exciting! And you got to add them to your pokedex, slowly being on your way to being a "pokemaster"--as Mike called it.

So you were just sitting in bed, reading the newest pokedex entries for them. But once you were done, you felt tired and shut off the device, putting it on your nightstand.

Xatu hadn't moved from the living room since you came home, so the pokeball that remained on the table as well was empty.

You wondered when they'll tell you about their vision.

Though just as you were about to switch off the light and go to sleep--a certain psychic-type suddenly ran into the bedroom.

"Xa!! XATU!!!" They cried, stopping at your side.

"X-Xatu??" You were bewildered at their panicked-state. But before you could ask them what's wrong, they began waving their wings around in patterns.

They were fast as they eventually gestured to your computer with the trading machine hooked to it, and then the Charizard plushie sitting on your shelf.

"Wait, wait. So....you’re saying that...one--no, two nights from now, a Charizard will be traded and...something will go wrong?” You concluded. “You're not talking about...Miki, are you?"

Xatu nodded, finally folding their wings in front of themselves before bowing their head. Their whole body seemed to tremble as a tear slipped out of their right eye, which stunned you..considering they never cried.

But you knew they cared for Miki a lot; it’s no wonder they didn’t immediately wanna relay their vision to you. They feared telling you...and feared that neither of you could change the outcome of that event.

Fortunately, you also knew exactly how to ground them.

Frowning slightly, you got out of bed to hug them, feeling their wings wrap around you tightly. “It’s okay, my friend..I understand now. But it’s not set in stone..we can stop it from happening. We’ll make sure Miki doesn’t get traded away.”

“Xa.” They muttered quietly, relaxing its shoulders. “Tu, tu.”

“..Steven’s gonna trade her to Mike? I wonder why he’d agree to that...but I don’t doubt you, Xatu. We’ll just warn them both first thing in the morning. Let’s just rest for now.” You smiled reassuringly, letting them go. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Xaa..tu?”

“I mean..you predicted them becoming champions, right? So they’ll have to believe us.”

.......

“I...don’t know if I believe that for sure, [y/n]..”

“Yeah, I’ve never heard of any issues with the trading system. It should be fine.”

“Huh?? But...But Xatu was serious about it!” You frowned as Steven, Mike, and Miki gave you the strangest looks.

Of course, you figured they’d be confused when you told them about Xatu's vision...but for them to look at you as though you grew two heads was outrageous. “You believed them before, didn’t you? You know most of their predictions came true!”

“”Most” is a keyword there.” Mike pointed out. “I mean..what could go wrong? Can Xatu tell us what to look out for?”

“..they're not a time-traveler, Mikey. They can only give us so much insight into the future before it stresses them out.”

“They don’t have to stress about our future, and neither do you, kiddo.” Smiling, he reached down to pat your head in reassurance, before doing the same to Xatu, receiving a glare from them. “Besides, I still got a few more Pokémon to add to my pokedex, and my little bro would be happy to help if I needed one more, right?”

“Yeah.” Steven nodded in agreement. “As long as you don’t plan to steal Miki.”

“Whaaat? Never! I mean she’s tough, but so is my Blastoise!”

“...remind me again who won?”

“..ugh..” Mike facepalmed as his brother smirked knowingly, before looking back at you. “Anyways, if we do decide to trade I’m sure it’ll be fine. Tell Xatu not to panic, alright? We had no problems getting a Gengar, Scizor, or Machamp, so we’re not worried.”

You simply huffed in annoyance that neither of them believed you. For Arceus’ sake, Xatu was distressed to the point of tears last night! 

Why couldn’t they believe your friend this time..when all other times, they did??

But you didn't want them to get annoyed with you, so you decided to leave their house with Xatu in-tow, lying about having homework.

Instead, you were gonna find a way to ensure that trade doesn't happen. You won't sabotage their machine or steal Miki's pokeball...that just wouldn't be right. But you'll figure out something.

This event simply can't come to pass.

You won't allow it.

...........

“...I don’t know if I want to do this now, Mike.”

“C’mon..it’ll be fine! All that stuff [y/n] said is just nonsense! The trading system’s perfectly fine. You even said it yourself, this is the safest thing in Kanto.”

“But..they seemed serious, and their Xatu-”

“Is just a superstitious bird who probably gets spooked real easily.”

“..they’ve made tons of predictions, though. And all of them were right.”

“Look, if anything should happen, which I doubt, we’ll just cancel the trade. And we’ll let [y/n] know we got it under control.”

“........”

“C’monnn. Think about it..are we really gonna let some “bad juju” from a kid stop us from being pokemasters?" We’re so close-!”"

"...yeah, you're right. Nothing's gone wrong before. So maybe it'll be-"

“Wait!!”

Jumping, Steven and Mike swiveled around in their chairs, bewildered as you came rushing into their room, huffing and puffing. You looked rather sweaty with dirt and scrapes all over your skin; Xatu was not far behind, proudly holding a pokeball in their wings as they too sported some scrapes.

Mike was in disbelief as they calmly set the ball in his hands. He looked down at it for a moment, and then up to you, confused. “What is this? A..Charmander? Did you find one just for me?"

“Actually, it’s a Charmeleon. We saved it from a Team Rocket jerk.” You beamed, patting Xatu’s head as they cooed in agreement. “She was angry that it wouldn’t evolve into Charizard, and when we beat them..she just left it behind. And I promised Charmeleon that I knew someone who won’t treat it like a tool.”

The brothers both frowned upon learning of its mistreatment. But Steven was rather upset that you fought a grunt way stronger than you, knowing you could've easily gotten hurt.

“You shouldn't have done that, [y/n]..” He told you. “You’ve barely battled all the bug trainers around here. Team Rocket isn’t something to mess around wi-”

“But you...y-you actually kicked their butt to get me the Pokémon I needed??" Mike grinned widely, springing out of his seat and hugging both you and Xatu tightly. "Thank you so much!! I promise I’ll give this fella all the love and patience it needs! I’m sure it’ll be a Charizard in no time!”

You just smiled and hugged him back, relieved he accepted your help, before he let go and ran off to train his new companion. He was acting like an excited little kid all over again, similar to when he first got Squirtle.

“Well...I guess we don’t have to trade after all.” Steven sighed as he put Miki’s pokeball back in his bag. “I’ll admit..I didn’t wanna do it either, but I knew Mike wouldn’t stop bugging me until I agreed. So..thanks. Just be more careful next time, alright?"

"I promise we will." Putting an arm around Xatu, you squeezed them to your side as they closed their eyes, looking genuinely happy for once. “Hope we didn’t make you too paranoid."

"Nah, it's probably for the best that we didn't trade. Who knows what might've happened.."

[takadasaiko]

Now, it's my turn. I want a snippet of Trust Goes Both Ways 😁

Hey there! I'm so bummed that this fic has gone by the wayside. I have this glaring issue with getting them from point A to point C with point B not making any sense, so with everything else on my plate it's sort of just sat there. Someday, though. Someday.

Story summary: When a Fulcrum asset is compromised from the inside and trust is in short supply, Kallus takes matters into his own hands to extract his asset, but Zeb won’t let him risk going  alone.

Snippet:

The door stood open and Kallus was on his knees, sorting through a small trunk where he kept the few personal items he’d accumulated in their time on base. “Take it your meeting went well,” Zeb offered sarcastically as he leaned against the doorframe. 

Kallus shot him a sharp look. “To say the least.”

“We could help, ya know. Hera’s got some sway…”

“She’s not read in.”

“So read her in.”

“That’s not how this works.” 

“So you’ve said.”

It was tough to get a good sense of Kallus sometimes. Most of that was how much the man had changed between Bahryn and the battle of Atallon. Nearly everybody but Zeb had had a chance to work with him as Fulcrum - Ezra twice - but the first time Zeb had seen him again had been after the rescue. Bruised and beaten, Kallus had felt off kilter the first few weeks as they navigated not only the survivors from Chopper Base, but an ISB defector that had been approved by a man that had been killed in the battle. Then, once he was cleared, Kallus had thrown himself into work that was considered classified by leadership. Even so, he’d seen glimpses between the long days of a rebellion stretched too thin and over games of dejarik when neither of them could sleep. At times Kallus hardly seemed like the same man he’d crashed to Bahryn with. He didn’t give away details about the ring of assets he was cultivating, but it was clear he cared more about them than Zeb wagered he ever had the countless stormtroopers under his command. If there were other Fulcrum agents out there, the Lasat had no idea, but Kallus shouldered the weight of his responsibility to the Rebellion with a silent determination. 

Kallus grabbed what looked like a duffel bag from the trunk, shoving a set of clothes into it and a few power clips for his blaster. Zeb quirked an eyebrow. “Goin’ somewhere?”

The former ISB agent looked ready to snap at him, but swallowed the words. He zipped the bag closed. “I don’t mean to be short,” Kallus managed tightly. 

“Coulda fooled me.”

“It’s better if you don’t know.” 

He pushed past him through the door, and for the first time since they’d started this bizarre and cryptic conversation, Zeb felt a spark of worry. “You leaving?”

Kallus stopped, and it looked like every muscle was tense. “Yes, but I’m not abandoning the Rebellion, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’ll be back when I’ve done what I have to.”

“Kallus…”

Finally he turned, trying for a reassuring smile and failing miserably. “I know I may not have earned it yet, but I need you to trust me. And to keep this quiet.”

“This have somethin’ to do with what everybody’s been whispering about?”

“I can’t say. I’m sorry.” He turned and Zeb pushed a frustrated breath out through his nose. 

“Trust goes both ways,” he grumbled into the now-empty hallway.

WIP Game

[hiyorisarugaki]

I haven't seen you in the Soul Society in a while. What's going on?

It isn't every day that Hiyori can be caught unaware by someone. She is very skilled at detecting the reiatsu of different shinigami and other beings. She has to be, after all, she is a hybrid and only a handful of her actually exist. But the reason why she hadn't realised a captain level shinigami was hanging around Urahara's shop was because of the current sessions she has been attending. It had been difficult to admit that she may have a problem with managing her aggression and violence. After all, she has been brought up in a violent world. But when that aggression no longer served you, and you lost your relationships with those you cherished… it was time to do something about it. Her anger had served her well when she had been growing up in Rukongai. It had been her armour and prepared her for battle to keep her energized. To keep the hollow in her stable and under control. But now… it only seemed to be her way to cover up some deeply uncomfortable emotions.

She didn't realise how much there was to cover. One explosive emotion, that reared its ugly head at the smallest of triggers had pushed away the very person she has wanted to keep close.

Hiyori thinks 'anger' is just a very small word to describe the colossal fire of rage inside her at times. And that fire will burn anyone that tries to get close.

She glances at Toshiro, no doubt here on some other mission has noticed her absence from Soul Society. She supposes she had attempted to get closer to him. He had been the easiest to get to know. He didn't invoke feelings of betrayal inside her. Or of the ugly hatred she has for shinigami. With him… she felt a bit calmer. He was… a comrade. An ally.

She supposes it was because she has never known him in the past that it is easier to talk to him.

"Heh… did ya miss me? Or is Shinji crying in yer office and not leaving?" She manages to tease him a little, but it feels hard to speak of Shinji without wondering how he is. She looks up at Toshiro and the cool kindness he offers her without trying. Effortlessly kind despite being so young. Like Ichigo. Youthful people were supposed to be selfish, she thought. But not the ones she has met recently.

"We're taking a break from one another. I can't seem 'ta stop hurting the one I love- so… I decided I should leave. 'Ta get better," she shrugs before looking back down. It is hard to admit that she hasn't done a good job, but she can admit her failures to Toshiro. He is also a captain, despite his lieutenant being so protective over him.

He might have experienced the same with his friend. Waiting for her to get better. He would understand Shinji the most.

"How is it… being the one who waits?"

@ryusxnka

[mellowoafrascalmuffin]

You're a strong-willed Kalys

Context disclaimer: Violence, romantic or platonic & first headcanon/imagine

𝒯𝒶𝓊𝓇𝒶:

Well, well… look who’s a tough cookie. Talk about a once in a lifetime occurrence. Never has she seen a Kalys quite like ya.

You wear such a stern face. Nothing like the typical soft, crybaby expression expected from a Kalys. Seeing them disgust her. Even your body is toned with some muscles. Though not muscular like she is, she can still see a bit of beefiness on you.

Speaking about your body, yours is covered head to toe with all manners of scars, whip marks, and burns. You look like you've been through hell; which is kinda ironic.

At first, she sorta did not care about you too much. Or, at least that's what she likes to think. Just kept a close eye on you when she wasn’t fighting her own kind. That was until one day, while wandering around, she saw you with a Berith. 

The succubus was poking and making nasty faces at you. Berith’s are a prideful kind and love to boast about their achievements and pick on others. And they especially love to bully the Kalys when they get the chance.

You look rather uninterested in what the succubi had to say, and that really pissed her off. Trying and wanting to make you say something smart since you seem to be acting so brave. It was when she got literally into your face did you give any sort of response.

That being a right hook to the nose.

And thanks to her enhanced demonic hearing, she heard just how hard that punch was. A faint but familiar sound of bone cracking. 

The Berith succubus recoils from the hit and quickly covers her nose. Some blood is on your hand and a lot of it is pouring out of the once cocky succubi nose.

Obviously shocked and shaken by the assault, she quickly flees from you like a dog with its tail between its legs. Hopefully your “”response”” got through her arrogant, thick head and left her more humbled.

Little did you know that such a show of power sealed the deal on Taura’s respect and admiration of you.

A couple of days later, she came up to you and asked if you would want to battle with her? Which you surprisingly agreed to.

During the fight, Taura noticed you had quite the fighting experience in that head of yours. Both dirty fighting and skilled techniques. It's not enough to overpower her though. Your small figure makes you light and quick, but she can only slightly feel your punches. And her being big and brawny makes her punches very heavy. So when she eventually hits you, you are literally sent flying in the air and tumbling on the ground.

Yet you keep getting back up. Just like a true Taura (the race). At least if you were one anyway. You may not be able to do much damage to her and her kind, but certainly to many of the other demons here.

But with every strike, she can feel your strength grow. Just like her love for you.

[little-corritrice]

George Weasley - Battle of 7 Potters (Part 2)

After a painful bath, George had me sitting on the counter as he bandaged my ear. I hissed as he cleaned the area first with alcohol. "I know. I'm sorry." He kept saying every time he heard me cry, wince, or hiss in pain. "Why do you keep apologizing?" I asked, getting slightly annoyed. "Because none of this would have ever happened if I didn't drag you along with us." He said, making me silent. "What are you saying, George?" I asked, remembering that day.

Flashback ~

Sitting in the common room, me and the twins were planning the prank before we left Hogwarts for good. "Alright. For the grand finale, we can have that firework with the 'W'." I said, smiling brightly at the twins. They nodded, clapping hands with themselves and me. "You're amazing." Fred said. "Yes you are, but are you sure you want to come along? I mean, we will most likely be expelled for this." George said, making me frown. "Of course I am. I wouldn't be sitting here if I wasn't." I said, seeing them both nod. "Great. Let's do this then." They said, grabbing everything we needed before we went out and got in position.

End Flashback ~

He quickly shook his head, grabbing my cheeks gently. "Baby, I will never regret that day. That was probably the best day of my life. All I'm saying is if I didn't drag you along with us for the Sky Battle, none of this would have happened." He said, a frown forming. "George, none of this is your fault. I'm still here. I may be in pain, but at least I'm still here." I said, rubbing his side. He nodded, resting his forehead on mine. "I love you so much, darling." He sighed, looking into my eyes. "I love you too." I whispered, leaning down to give him a soft kiss. He held my cheeks a little tighter, holding me in place. When he pulled away, he gave me a small smile. He finished bandaging my head, and smiled. "Perfect. Let's go lay you down, then I'll go get you something to drink." He said, making me nod. He helped me off, walking me to his and Fred's room. I walked in, going to his bed. "I'll be back." He said, only getting a nod from me.

As he went downstairs, I decided to go to our box. It was a memory box I had kept for memories in case something happened. I opened the box, going through everything. There were pictures from 1st year, all the way to a couple days ago. I smiled at a certain picture, taking it out.

This was taken 2 years ago when we were in D.A training. I managed to snag the photo while he was distracted staring at my tiger Patronus. I smiled at the photo, some tears slipping away from my eyes. Involuntary crying, ya know? The door opened and George sat by my side. "Oh, it's me." He said, taking the photo from me softly. "When did you take this?" He asked, making me smile. "7th year. During D.A training." I whispered, leaning on his shoulder. "You were so intrigued by my Patronus that you didn't see me take it." I finished, grabbing some more photos.

I giggled as I pulled the last one out. "Aww, I still can't believe I got this one. He's so adorable." I laughed, sighing afterwards. "Georgie?" I asked, putting all the photos away and putting the box on the chest. "Yes?" He asked, turning to me. "Promise me you will stay with me forever." I said, not being able to look at him. He cupped my cheeks, making me look at him. "I solemnly swear that I, George Weasley, will stay with y/n l/n forever." He said, making me bring him into a hug. He laid us back, pulling the blankets over us. He kissed my head softly, making me lean on my right side. "I love you." I whispered to him, hiding my tears. "I love you forever." He said, stroking my back. I smiled softly, finally falling asleep in the warmth of love.