#he’s grown so much i’m in full agony

[trkstrnd]

he’s come so far.

[gay-dorito-dust]

pookie i’m loving the idea of calling Dick “Rich” instead bc his full name is Richard. he’d hate it so much it’d be so funny.

like “hey rich” and he’d just fall over and do the family guy death pose until you call him Dick again

Dick refused to be called rich, Richard or anything that isn’t a cute nickname from you at all. He won’t have it, he refuses.

So if you were to ever call him rich, dick might as well have died with the way he falls out of bed and into a comedic pose on the floor, while Hayley is sniffing him to make sure her dad was okay.

He was, he was just being dramatic and once Hayley knew that, she was back in your lap on the bed.

Calling him Dick was a fate better than being called Rich, Richie or Richard. Please free him from the Agony that you brought upon his cuz you thought you were being funny, and Dick was more then willing to commit to a bit until you called him Dick, Dickie bird or boy wonder again.

He’s a literal grown man throwing a child like tantrum until he got his way basically, but he was cute so it was fine and you were more than happy to call him Dick again. The smug smile this prick has on his face afterwards was telling to say the least and he’ll smuggle with you as a reward for promising to not calling him Rich ever again.

[yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen]

"That's a very stupid idea." Single Dad Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x F! Reader

Summary: On the eve on Jake's first deployment since becoming a father, you and Jake try to act like nothing is different. But can you let him go without telling him the truth? That you've not just fallen in love with Tyler Seresin but also his dad.

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + only, Explicit smut, language, single dad Jake and live in nanny reader, age-gap.

Cross Posted on AO3

You’d grown to love Tyler Seresin like he was your own son. Standing in the doorway to the toddler's room, watching his father kneel on the floor beside him, brushing the sweet blonde curls off his forehead was almost too much. 

His father Jake being in the Navy, needed someone desperately when he gained full custody of a son he never knew existed after his mother passed in a tragic accident. His ad on Facebook caught your eye, and the idea of room and board included was an added bonus, but it became more than a job a long time ago. 

“I love you, buddy,” you hear Jake whisper, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead. This was the first deployment since you waltzed into their lives thirteen months ago, and your heart aches at the thought of not seeing him every day. He stands, taking another moment to stare at his son before turning back and pausing seeing you in the doorway.

“He’s really gonna miss you,” you whisper, putting a clenched fist to your chest, “we both are.” 

His eyes soften as he turns one last time to look at the little boy, before nodding out into the hallway and closing the door shut behind him. “Meet me on the couch?” he asks, staring at you with an unknown expression. 

“Yeah,” you tremble, “we got to watch the next episode of Only Murders in the Building.” 

Jake smiles but the light doesn’t reach his eyes when he nods, “it’s probably gonna be awhile till we get the chance again. I’ll go get the snacks and meet you there. Maybe we can finish the season tonight, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.” 

“Whatever you want to do,” you nod, “I’m not going anywhere.” You take off down the hall, feeling him close behind you as you walk down the stairs and turn off to the living room. He goes to the kitchen grabbing the snacks and you pull out the big blanket and grab the remote, lighting a few candles before flicking off the lights. 

Jake comes back a few minutes later, hands full with two beers, a bowl of popcorn, and several bags of candy. You smile, thinking of the candy you’ve been hoarding in your closet to mail him in his care packages. “Blanket please,” he grins and you lift the blanket, the couch bouncing when he settles down beside you, pulling it back over you both and taking the bowl from his hands. 

“Now I don’t know about you but I have some theories about our killer,” he takes a handful of popcorn and puts it in his mouth. 

“You always have theories,” you tease, settling yourself against him, his arm coming around your shoulders to pull you in tight, “and they’re always wrong.” 

He gasps, “No they are not!” You giggle, leaning back against his arm and staring up at him, the smile on his face wavering as you both realize how close you are. His voice softens, as he lifts one knuckle to run along your cheek, “I’m really gonna miss you.” 

You take a shaky breath, “I’m really going to miss you too. I’ve had this idea, a recurring thought in my head, that you’re going to find someone else. Come home and not need me anymore.” 

“That’s a very stupid idea,” he leans closer, his nose brushing against yours. “I am always going to need you. I’m always gonna want you.” 

“Jake,” you whisper, your lips brushing his he’s so close, “we shouldn’t. You’re leaving tomorrow.” 

“I know Darlin’,” his accent’s thick, “but if I go away for six months and not at least kiss you, that would be the biggest mistake of my life. Because baby, it would be agony to be alone with nothing but my hand and just the image of you in my head, without having had to taste those lips I dream about, every, fucking, night.” 

“You dream about me?” you sit up pushing off the blanket to the floor and straddling his lap. His cock is hard and straining against his sweatpants and you let out a whimper when it catches your clit as you settle down, arms wrapped around his neck. 

“Baby,” he warns, letting out a moan when you grab his hands and place them on your ass, giving him the permission he needs. He surges forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. It’s like coming home, he pulls you closer, needing to feel every inch of you pressed against him. His tongue comes out to lick your bottom lip, tangling with your own on a groan. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, when he lifts his hips, driving his hard cock against you, your panties drenched and soaking through his sweats. “Jake,” you pull his hair, and he pulls back, his eyes hazy as they watch you pull off the black lace nightgown, dropping it to the floor. If he wasn’t religious before he is now as he worships your breasts, biting and kissing every inch before taking a perky nipple and sucking it into his mouth. 

“Oh, god,” you lean back, his hands squeezing your ass as he lowers you off him and down onto the couch. His mouth works down your body and you bite your lip, eyes rolling back when he mouths at your soaked panties. 

“Can I take these off, baby?” he asks, and you open your eyes and nod, “I’m gonna need verbal confirmation darlin’.” 

“Yes,” your quick to answer, “Jake, please, please, please,” he groans, quickly pulling off your panties and pulling your legs over his shoulder before diving into your soaked cunt. “Oh,” you groan, “fuck, Jake.” He swirls his tongue back and forth over your clit, your pussy soaked, he pulls back and spits on your pussy before diving back in. He must have been blessed with some pussy eating powers because the way he moves his mouth, up and down, fast and then slow have you shaking before the most powerful orgasm of your life takes over. He holds your legs tight, watching as they tremble and you lean back into the couch, your chest high in the air as you whimper out his name. 

“That’s it, baby,” he coos, kissing up your chest before finding your lips, “that’s my girl.” He tastes like you, tangy and sweet his chin glistening as he smiles down at you, “Ready for another one?” 

You huff out a laugh, still struggling to catch your breath, “I think I need a minute.” 

“We got all night,” he whispers, stealing another kiss, “I’ll happily go down on you till the sun comes up, baby. That was a fucking sight.” 

“What about you?” you run your fingers through his hair, his eyes closing as he leans further into your touch. “Aren’t you gonna let me have a taste?” 

His eyes slowly open, a vulnerability you’re surprised to see after he just put his mouth on your most sensitive areas. “I don’t have any expectations, I’ll take any piece of you, you’ll give me.” 

“You’re not the only one who dreams, Lieutenant,” his jaw clenches when you use his title and you worry you’ve crossed a line, quickly going to apologize when he cuts you off. 

“Say that again,” his voice has gone deep, and you realize it’s his commanding voice. 

“I’d like to serve you, Lieutenant.” 

He swallows hard, before getting up and standing beside the couch, your naked and he takes a moment to gaze over you before pulling down his sweats and boxers. Your breath catches in your throat and you lick your lips when he pumps his cock, eyes caressing as he watches the rise and fall of your chest, your thighs clenching together. “On your knees,” his voice is strong and confident and you stand quickly dropping to your knees before him. 

“Show me your tongue,” his hand on your jaw is firm but not uncomfortable and you open your mouth presenting your tongue. “That’s a good girl,” he slaps his cock against your tongue, “now serve your Lieutenant.” He takes his hand off your jaw, placing it on your head as he guides his cock into your waiting mouth. He groans when you wrap your lips around him, sucking him deep, “Oh fuck, shit, baby.” 

Swirling your tongue around the tip, he looks down, holding your eyes as you suck him deeper and deeper, the tears seeping out of the corner of your eyes and the sounds are vulgar. Spit dripping down his balls and onto your tits, your pussy throbbing with the control, the power he commands as he drives you back and forth on his cock. “Shit, I’m close,” he moans, “stop,” he gasps, pulling you off, “stop, stop.” 

“Did I do something wrong?” you frown, glancing up at him as he brushes the tear off your cheek. 

“No,” he drops to his knees before you, “no, you did nothing wrong, you hear me?” 

You pout, “then why’d you not let me finish?” 

His face turns serious before he stands holding out a hand and pulling you off the floor and into his arms. “I wanted to let you finish,” he comforts, “believe me, baby. But I want to do something else more if you’ll have me.” 

“Oh Jake,” you run your fingers through his hair, “you’ve had me from the moment we met. There’s never been anyone else, and I don’t think they’ll ever be anyone else.” 

Jake leans down, picking you up bridal style and taking off for the bedroom. He pushes the door open and lays you down gently with a soft kiss before turning back to the door and closing it, sliding the lock into place. He goes to the nightstand, turning on the soft light before reaching for a box of condoms and setting them on top of the dresser. 

He grabs one, and you sit up taking it from his hands and ripping it open. His eyes watch as you slide it onto his cock, before you lay back against the plush pillows. Jake settles between your legs, his hands on either side of your waist as he kisses you so slowly and achingly tender it makes you want to cry. The first press of him inside has you tenseing before he reaches down between you, rubbing your clit slowly as he works in inch by inch. He fills you so completely like he was meant to be here, his cock pressing deep enough inside you, you can feel him hit your cervix. 

“Fuck,” he moans, pressing his forehead to your own, “your pussy is perfect, baby, so tight and warm wrapped around me. I never want to leave.” 

“I don’t want you to leave either,” you whisper, a tear sliding down your cheek, “god, Jake, you were made for me. I-” you hesitate only a second, “I love you.” 

Jake leans back, his eyes wide as he licks his lips, a single tear running down his cheek as he slowly starts to move inside you. You’ve read before about people making love for the first time but never experienced it. But the way Jake moves, his body so in sync with your own, this isn’t fucking, this is making love. 

The pressure builds and you move your hips meeting him with each thrust, his hand moving back between you as he rubs your clit. “That’s it, baby,” he praises, “cum with me, almost there,” his hips move fast and there is a power that knocks the air from your lungs with each thrust before you're crying out as he fills you. He never stops, still thrusting steadily inside you, letting you ride out your orgasm before pulling out. 

You catch your breath feeling vulnerable when he quickly leaves the bed and flicks on the bathroom light. Only for him to return a moment later, the condom disposed of, and a warm washcloth running over your spent pussy. He tosses the cloth into the laundry bin, turns off the light, and folds into bed behind you, pulling you against his chest, his chin slotted on your shoulder. 

Jake presses his lips to your cheek and whispers, “I love you,” into your ear. You turn, glancing up at him with wide eyes and he smiles running his fingertip over your face as he traces every line. “Did you think I didn’t?” you stay silent, watching him and trying to take a mental picture. “I’ve been in love with you since the day I came home to Tyler sitting on the counter in his chair laughing as you danced to Foot Loose.” 

“That was eleven months ago,” you do the math, “why didn’t you say something?” 

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if you didn’t feel the same way. I’m older than you by ten years baby, and I’m a single parent. I didn’t want you to feel stuck. You still have so much to do in your life, I didn’t want you to have to wait around for me.” 

“I choose you, Jake,” you press a hand to his cheek, his eyes becoming glassy. “I love you, Jacob Andrew Seresin. I love Tyler like he’s my own son, and there is nothing on this earth that is going to take me away from you. Tomorrow you have to leave for six months and fuck I’m going to miss you every single day but I will be here when you get back. Because that is what you do when you love a man in uniform, Jake.” 

“I love you,” he whispers, your full name coming out like honey on his tongue. “I’m gonna fight like hell to come home to you. To both of you. I’ll call home as much as I can and write when I can’t.” He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back into his chest, his cock hard against your ass, and you wiggle causing him to groan in your ear. 

“So soon, Lieutenant?” you tease, his hand on your waist dipping lower between your thighs and his teeth leaving hickeys on your neck, soothing with his tongue. 

“Oh baby,” he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his voice, “we got all night.” 

[urdepressedslut]

Tears of an Angel

♡ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You’ve been trapped at HYDRA for god knows how long, until the cell next to yours gets someone new. Who is this man, and why is he comforting you? He doesn’t even know you.

♡ Warnings: hydra, bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, hints to sexual assault/abuse, torture, literally this is so sad i’m sorry

main masterlist ✧ part two

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | 18+

You didn’t know why it had hurt that much. He wasn’t anyone special to you to begin with. He was merely a stranger fighting for his life— just like you.

It was a silly gesture that you had let your withered mind believe. You weren’t sure if you held such distaste for him hurting you— or for yourself for allowing it to hurt that badly.

~

You watched the man shout with anger, dripping into fear— lastly he cried of exhaustion. You watched him shuffle throughout his little room, begging with no one in particular— to set him free. The decent sized hole in the wall separating you two— gave you a front row seat to the man’s episode. The outbursts shouldn’t of interested you, but the glimmer of silver from his arm had caught your attention. This man being different than all the others you’d seen.

He did this frequently, every episode shorter than the last. His voice would grow more hoarse, his shuffling would quiet down, his energy vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. Adrenaline would do nothing for him now.

It had been almost a full month of examining the man from your spot in your own cell. Never did you find energy in yourself to say something— comfort him. What was the point, right?

Although the more time that passed, the harder it was to not say something. The man’s faith was thinning right before your eyes. You felt awful for this man’s suffering, all which had been seen by you. You thought you could sit aside, watch him give up— then he’d leave. It’s what you did with all the others, all of them hurting as bad as the last. But this man was a fighter, he was determined— fighting towards something. Maybe someone.

It was only making things worse, the ending would hurt greater than all the others. He was different, he was strong. Knowing that, you knew they would never let him leave. He was their property now.

That’s just how things worked here. Your strength was taken advantage of.

Today he was staring mindlessly at the wall, his eyes dull and lifeless. You didn’t know why you wanted to say something suddenly, but the urge to ask if he was okay— burned at the front of your mind. It was a dumb question— of course he wasn’t.

His hair was longer, having grown out in his time trapped here.

You were about to say something, beginning to clear your throat when your cell door was open suddenly. You were shocked, the gist unexpected— you were starting to think you were forgotten in here. No one having checked your room for quite some time.

But as the guards hoisted you up— easily since you had no fight left in you. They guided you out of the room, down the hall to an eerily familiar room. One that had your stomach knotting up, dreading the pain you were about to receive.

You were so caught up in the moment, you had missed the man’s head glance over to you— through the hole in the wall.

~

The door swung open, the guards carelessly tossing you inside— causing you to land hard on your hands and knees.

You let out a cry— half pain, half frustration. You were unsure how you we able to endure such amounts of pain. You begged for the darkness to consume you. Letting you limbs fill with ice, your whole body sinking into a cold deep oblivion. An escape.

But it was over— for now.

You pathetically crawled to your spot against the wall, the movement causing pain to shoot up through your body.

You stared blankly at the wall, wishing you could forget the horrid events that had just happened.

Today was bad. Bad not coming close to describing the true agony your endured, the torture that you went through the felt like forever.

Your lower region throbbed painfully, and you wished that you could be numb. Wishing so desperately to not feel anything.

You felt violated— the urge to rip off your own skin. The thought of your own flesh had you revolted, wanting to throw up. You didn’t want to feel your own skin, you couldn’t look at it— you wanted it to all stop. You stayed eerily still, fearing that your deep breaths— the expanding of your chest would cause you pain.

“Hey.” A soft horse voice called.

You sluggishly moved your head towards the voice, your eyes meeting with concerned blue ones.

You stayed silent— furrowing your brows like you wanted to say something, but found your lips sealed. Truthfully, you were afraid to speak. You feared the guards would hear and punish you some more— you just couldn’t deal with even the thought.

“Are you okay?” He tried again.

You scoffed, wanting to bitterly laugh at his question— but ended up crying instead. Your body shook painfully, your hands clutching your lower abdomen. You quietly sobbed, your tears soaking your thighs as you hunched pitifully.

Your mind was chaos, you felt overwhelmed. Your body was alert, ready for the guards to enter at any moment— while your mind was exhausted.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay— I’m here.” He whispered through the gap.

You slowed your cries, the comfort his words brought you felt foreign. He didn’t even know you, you didn’t even know him— yet he was trying to comfort you. Maybe it was because you were in such a vile place, that had you grabbing a hold of the sliver of comfort.

You hugged yourself, glancing back up to his eyes now— surprised to find them filled with worry. His gaze scanning over your form, as if he was searching for the reason of you distress.

“I’m Bucky.” He introduced, now sitting against the wall, keeping his eyes trained on you.

You could finally put a name to the face.

You swallowed, trying to remind yourself that a name didn’t mean anything. You could know someone’s name and not be close with them, the walls could still stay up. Right?

“(Y/n).” You told him, your voice so hoarse— a sound barely came out. Your screams from the torture shredding your vocal cords.

Bucky smiled, although it didn’t reach his eyes.

“That’s a pretty name.” He thought out loud, and if you had any room for butterflies— you would’ve been blushing from nerves. All your body could manage was fear— pain.

Bucky watched as your body shook with a particular painful looking wave. His eyes widening in concern when your hands clutched your lower abdomen. Your face scrunched up painfully, squeezing your eyes shut— wishing for this sensation to pass.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay— I know it hurts now but just keep breathing okay? You can—” He paused, slipping his right hand through the gap in the wall. “You can hold my hand if you wa— need to.”

You slowly unscrunched your face, taking deep breaths like he had said— the fresh cool air soothing your lungs. Although it caused slight movement, the deep breaths were calming you.

You stared at his hand— hesitant. A part of you knew you shouldn’t— the fact was you shouldn’t even be talking to him. But the other part of you was desperate for human touch. It had been years since you last felt someone— someone’s gentle touch.

Your hunger won, that’s how you found yourself slowly scooting from your spot on the wall, towards the gap— towards his hand. The movement causes the throbbing to pick back up, a whimper of pain escape. You were close enough and grabbed onto his hand tight, squeezing it in hopes he could make the pain go away.

“I’ve got you— just keep breathing. I’m right here.” He cooed, his voice smooth and calming.

You still didn’t know why he was being so kind, but you decided not to question it any longer. You were grateful, to find comfort in such a place.

You quietly sobbed, holding onto his hand— his thumb occasionally rubbing back and fourth on the back of your hand.

“We’re gonna get out of here, I just know we will.” He whispered, and you had a feeling he was trying to convince himself.

You noticed he was peppier today, having more fight in his voice. You weren’t sure if he was only faking it for you, either way— you appreciated the motivation. He was relaxing to be around, specifically today. You wouldn’t question the leave you could find in a place like this. Hell.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You whimpered, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. Your lower abdomen starting to burn uncomfortably.

He gave your hand a tight squeeze, rubbing his thumb up and down once more.

“No need. We’ve got each other now— we will be okay.”

Oh how desperately you wanted to believe his words. Well— you did.

Months had passed, you both clung onto each other everyday— that was until he was taken one day and he never returned. You knew it was completely out of his control— but you felt hurt. You couldn’t stop yourself from feeling betrayed.

You didn’t know why it had hurt that much. He wasn’t anyone special to you to begin with. He was merely a stranger fighting for his life— just like you.

He had held your hand, talked you through some bad moments— he showed you that kindness still existed.

It was a silly gesture that you had let your withered mind believe. You weren’t sure if you held such distaste for him hurting you— or for yourself for allowing it to hurt that badly.

So for now, you’d sit against the grimy wall— counting down the days until someone knew took up the other cell. Then the cycle would repeat and you’d wish for the darkness to consume you.

If you want to be added

TAGLIST: @billy-reads @potatothots @goldylions

[cryingatwindermerepeaks]

Little!Rio x Cg!Agatha - Cramps

Requested by anon: cg!agatha and little!rio where Rio regresses after starting a particularly painful period. Agatha would comfort her and give her everything she needs. Again, agatha x reader would also be fine for this! I understand if that one's not one you're comfortable with though!

Word count: 1405

—————————

Everything hurt. Waves of agony rolled through Rio’s stomach, back and legs repeatedly as she tried to find a position on the couch that would lessen the cramping. Rio had been feeling off all morning, though it had taken her a few hours to figure out what was causing her discomfort. Now she knew and she hated it, simultaneously it made her feel extremely small and like she needed to be big. Rio knew she was supposed to be grown up and handle this awful, awful pain but she felt small and icky and everything hurt. It was just another reminder of how she was supposed to act. She couldn’t even focus on the cartoons she’d put on to distract herself which was just making Rio even more upset because she wanted to watch cars and forget about all her grown up problems. Rio sniffled, burying her face in her soft blanket to hide her tears. She ached for any comfort she could get but all her little things were in the bedroom and the thought of even standing up was big and scary.

The sound of the front door clicking open distracted Rio from her aching body. “Rio! I’m home!” Agatha’s voice trailed through the house. Mama. Rio didn’t question why Agatha was home so early, all that mattered was that Mama was home and she could fix everything. As Agatha entered the living room, immediately noticing from the cartoons on the tv that Rio was feeling small. “Hi bubba,” She cooed, expecting Rio’s usual hyperactive response. Instead she was met with a whimper and a sniffle from the unmoving figure on the couch.

“Mama,” Rio whined sadly.

“Little bug, what’s wrong?” Agatha questioned, shedding her detective’s coat onto the rocking chair before slipping onto the couch next to Rio. Rio burrowed herself into Agatha’s arms.

“Hurts,” she whimpered sadly. Agatha’s face creased with concern, pulling Rio closer.

“What hurts, bubba?”

“Tummy.” Instinctively, Agatha began to rub soft circles over Rio’s stomach.

“Like you’re gonna be sick?” She questioned nervously. Rio shook her head with a little sniffle.

“Cramps,” she admitted sadly. It felt like far too grown up of a problem for her to handle and Rio hated it. Agatha’s chest ached at the thought of her baby in so much pain. She’d originally planned on just coming home to have lunch with Rio but now she had no intention of going back to work today.

“Mama’s got you, it’s ok bubba,” Agatha cooed. “I’m gonna take care of everything for you ok? You don’t have to do anything at all.” Rio whined in frustration, squirming to try and get some comfort. “Alright bug,” Agatha gently wiped loose hair from Rio’s sweat ridden forehead. “How about a bath?” Rio nodded rubbing at her teary eyes, knowing the warm water would be soothing.

Agatha took Rio to the bathroom, not arguing the way that Rio clung desperately to her arm the whole way there. In the bathroom Agatha gently pried Rio off her so she could run the bath. Rio stood shakily in the middle of the bathroom, arms wrapped tightly around her torso. She couldn’t help the fresh tears and sniffles which she couldn’t hold back now that Agatha wasn’t holding her anymore.

Once the bath was full and topped off with floral scented bubbles, Agatha helped Rio undress. She softly hushed Rio’s distressed whines at the sight of the blood and helped her into the warm water. She pulled Rio’s long, dark hair up into a bun on the top of her head to keep it dry. “There you go bug, isn’t that better?” Rio nodded, immediately soothed by the cocoon of warm water. Agatha gently took a washcloth and dragged it over Rio’s skin to help calm her baby. Rio leant against the back of the bath, dropping her head down and bringing her thumb up to her mouth. Agatha tutted gently but allowed Rio to continue as she knew the girl needed the comfort. Rio allowed herself to drift off slightly as Agatha gently washed off her flushed skin. After a few minutes the more violent waves of cramping seemed to wear off, the welcome break bringing back a fair bit of colour to Rio’s face.

Agatha momentarily removed her hand from Rio’s skin and the little whined, nuzzling her head against her Mama’s hand. “Oh baby, Mama isn’t going anywhere. You’re turning into a prune now, let's get you out.”

“Not a prune mama, that’s silly.” Rio giggled weakly, “I’m a bug!”

“You’re right, mama’s little bug.” Agatha helped Rio out of the bath, wrapping her in a large, soft towel and drying her off. Rio chewed on the corner of her towel nervously as she watched Agatha open the bathroom cupboard. Agatha grabbed out a pull-up for Rio who whined, hiding her face in the soft fabric. “Hey, hey,” Agatha cooed gently, holding her hands on Rio’s hips gently. “I know it feels icky and you do not have to wear it if you don't want to but Mama thinks it would be the most comfortable option right now if you want to try.” Rio eyed the pull-up in Agatha’s hands, it had a pastel flower pattern on the front and even she had to admit it sounded more comfortable than the other options which would no doubt make her feel more grown up than she wanted to be. She glanced nervously at her Mama who was patiently waiting with gentle eyes. Finally, Rio nodded, knowing she was making the right decision.

Agatha gently helped Rio get dry and into the pullup. “There you go,” she hummed gently.

Agatha brought Rio to her bedroom, gently guiding her to lay down on the bed. Agatha found the softest oversized t-shirt she could and maneuvered Rio into it. Rio nuzzled her nose into the collar, the soft fabric of the grey Westview police department t-shirt smelt comfortingly like her Mama and hung down by her upper thighs. She reached to her pile of stuffies which were lined orderly across the top of her bed and pulled out a grey Woolf with a fluffy white face and pointy ears.

The pair made their way back downstairs, ideally Agatha would’ve gone by herself but there was no prying Rio away from her mama. Agatha helped Rio up onto the counter, it was visibly obvious that the little was in pain just standing up but wouldn’t admit it at risk of being sent to bed alone.

Agatha made quick work of boiling water for the hot water bottle, even with Rio holding onto her hand from where she sat on the bench. While the water was boiling Agatha pulled some paracetamol down from the top cupboard and began crushing the pills into a fine powder. She warmed up a bottle of milk for Rio and dissolved the powder inside. As Agatha was filling up the hot water bottle Rio began to whine in discomfort again, the relief offered from the bath beginning to wear off. “I’ve got you bubba, just a second,” Agatha cooed, rubbing Rio’s hip firmly in a way she knew helped.

Agatha piled the bottle and hot water bottle into her arms, using the other to guide a now teary eyed Rio back to bed.

“Here we go,” she cooed once Rio was curled up among her stuffed toys. She placed the hot water bottle on the little’s abdomen and climbed into the bed next to her.

Rio took her bottle in Agatha’s arms, barely noticing the taste of medication amongst the warm sweetness of her milk. “Try get some sleep, mi carino,” Agatha cooed but Rio felt too uncomfortable to sleep. She whined in protest and sniffled, climbing onto Agatha so she was laying flat on her stomach against her Mama. The contact helped a lot.

“Hurts,” she mumbled. Agatha sighed and reached over to the bedside table, procuring Rio’s pacifier and a matchbox car for the girl to keep herself occupied with. Rio took her pacifier happily, a green one with little leaves on the front. She dragged the car up and down Agatha’s arm like a race track, giggling weakly as she crashed it into Agatha’s neck.

Eventually the medication kicked in, now she was no longer all consumed by the pain Rio’s body felt heavy and exhausted. In Agatha’s arms she fell asleep easily and peacefully.

[faeskiss]

MY EVERYTHING ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Zaros x reader!

I am not a stranger to weary days, in fact I’ve been nothing but weary for the past couple of weeks…

I cannot for the life of me recall the last time I could peacefully allow myself to lay my head down and give in to sleep, it’s been so long since I’ve had a pleasant dream, cruel and unbearable ones plague me instead, making my nights excruciatingly miserable.

How am I supposed to study and give it my all in the trials if I’m not well rested? Everything in life worries me and I feel utterly powerless, it’s funny actually, how can an earis, someone who’s birthright is power itself, feel devoid of it? It’s all just a big joke

I can clearly hear the storm outside grow worse and worse, lightning cracks and rumbles relentlessly, I usually enjoy rain, but this, this is absolutely terrifying and it’s fuelling my unease by the second

I keep tossing and turning, trying to breathe and collect my thoughts, but it’s no use, it seems my own mind hates me just as much as everyone else.

After a few more torturous moments of pure agony I decide to go outside, I know the storm is raging and growing like wildfire but I can’t stand to be cooped up in my room like this…

I step outside of my room and as soon as I do I am met with a breeze that’s fervently cold, the walls of this palace echo the rage of the storm, it’s truly a ghastly night

I pull my shawl closer to me and wrap my hands inside of it, trying to grasp whatever warmth I can, I slowly pace the halls, passing various rooms, my feet can’t help but abruptly stop in their tracks…

I find myself standing just outside of Zaros’s room and a wave of nostalgia washes over me, I remember all the times we hid from the uproar of the sky, he HATED storms..

I don’t know what’s happening, but it feels like I’m not in control of my reflexes, I immediately go up to the door and knock, knowing full well someone might see or hear me, knowing I’d regret it later

“The earis invited themselves into Zaros’s room the other night, it seems his notorious ways are finally rubbing off on them, what a shame”

Heaven knows what other things these nobles would say, why don’t I ever learn?

The horror of what I’ve done suddenly seeps into me, and before I can even turn around to save face, I am much too late

He opens the door….his green eyes look tired and worn down, the usual charm and gleam is missing in them

“Uhm…..hello?” He asks, obvious confusion painted on his face

I clear my throat, and try to answer

“H-Hello, I- uhm” I reply, absolutely failing to come up with an excuse as to why I am here, in the dead of night, unannounced, barely decent

“You are the last person I would ever expect to show up at my door, in the thick of night” he says with a soft, unexpected laughter

“Trust me, I am just as confused as you are” I reply with a faint laugh

“It seems that I’m finally rubbing off on you huh?” he says slyly

“Oh please! it’s not like that, I-‘’ before I can finish my sentence a loud clap of thunder booms and reverberates through the halls, startling us both

“I JUST don’t want to be alone, during this outpour…….I’m sorry but I just didn’t know where else to go” I say, surprising myself

His eyes soften, and a warm, empathetic smile forms on his face, something I thought I’d never see from him, ever again…

All of a sudden, he reaches for my hand, gently and slowly pulls me in the room, and I just let him

He then shuts the door behind us

I cannot believe that I’m in Zaros Atha’llin’s room……..at night…… the nobles would have a field day if they ever caught wind of this, but the truth is, that I don’t care, when I know I should and that gravely concerns me

“Look, I’m so very sorry I interrupted your sleep, I didn’t-“ I say

“It’s okay, I was awake anyways” he cuts me off

“Couldn’t sleep?” I ask

“You of all people should know how much I loathe storms” he adds

“How can I ever forget” I reply softly

“I see you haven’t grown to like them either”

“Ha! Never” I reply

“I think we should sit down” he says as he moves towards the bed

“ah yes, of course” I reply as I follow him

I seat myself beside him, another frantic wave of nostalgia crashes against me, I always sat next to him back in school….

“I know there’s something troubling you, something other than the storm” he says in a calm yet stern voice

“I- I just” I try to reply, but I just can’t, it’s quite abnormal being vulnerable to him, the last time him and I had a heart to heart was quite simply a lifetime ago

“Please do not feel obligated to talk about it, take your time” he says

“I just have the worst, most obscene amount of anxiety these days, and it only gets worse and worse as the weeks pass” I reply, this took a lot of courage and valour, it took all the strength in me to even say these words to someone

“I-I understand you more than you might ever know, it seems that these trials have not been kind to either of us, the stakes are unachievable and the water’s rough, you are not alone, I feel it too” he says in a somber tone, his expression is filled with gloom

His words shoot right at my heart, making me feel understood and protected, I would have never imagined that anything he’d said would have this affect on me, but I don’t despise it, not even a little bit

“I wouldn’t wish this entire ordeal on my worst enemy…..which,would be you I suppose” he ends his sentence with a unexpected burst of laughter, which in turn makes me laugh too

“I suppose so” I reply, giggling like a child

Me and Zaros, actually laughing together, as if nothing’s ever changed, I never would’ve imagined

“From best mates who are absolutely inseparable to enemies who are fighting for the throne, how the tides change” he says, looking directly at my face, I am unsure of the intention behind his tone

“It’s all written in the stars, what can us mere mortals do about it?” I reply, fidgeting with my fingers

Silence creeps into the space between us for a few moments, it’s absurdly comforting, sitting next to him, I can feel his warmth, it’s familiar and safe, it feels like home….he feels like home

“I cannot believe that I’m actually about to say this, but I feel as if I have to, for my own sanity” he says

“What are you trying to say?” I reply, puzzled as ever

“I-I really wish I never left, I wish I stayed by your side, I wish I never lost the eight years I could have had with you” he says, desperation laced in his voice

I look at him with wide eyes and shock painted on my face, I have a very strange feeling that I know what he’s about to say

“Zaros, plea-“ I try to interrupt him

“No, just don’t!” he snaps

“I have felt this way for quite a while now, and sometimes, it’s all I can think about, I wish we never had that wretched fight in the first place!” He exclaims

I am left utterly speechless by his words, nothing could have ever prepared me for this

“I really wanted you to trust me more!” he adds

That sets me off, how can he ever expect me of all people to trust him? After his relentless insults and torments, he is so delusive

“Don’t start!” I snap

“What? Are you that scared of the truth?” he interrupts

“Well you have not made it easy for me, have you now?” I sneer as I jolt up, out of the bed

“What do you mean?” he replies as he gets up

“How in the name of Gods can you expect me to trust you after everything that’s happened? You agreed to contest against me, we are competing AGAINST each other or have you forgotten? How can I trust you any which ways? You are my rival!” I say with all the anger my voice can muster

“I had no.other.choice” he replies sternly

“And besides is that all I am to you? Just a rival, an enemy you want to overthrow? Or did you forget us and everything we were before our fallout, did all that mean nothing to you? You are deeply imbedded in all my memories, all my feelings, all my thoughts, there isn’t a corner in my soul where I can’t find you….you, you were everything to me, still are” he says

I want to absolutely scream at his words, he can’t just say that and the worst part is I can’t decide if I’m angry with him or yearning for him

“Please….don’t do this” I say, almost in a whisper, my voice shakes a bit

“How much longer are you going to pretend that you were never in love with me?” he snaps

I can feel my heart stop, my mind starts to fog up and I can barely breathe, a dull, crushing gust of pain swims across my chest…that is until I feel a violent rush of anger flow through me, red and fiery

“You…“ I rage

“I-I’m sorry, I went too far, I shouldn’t have-“ he says

“And you want me to “trust” you, I should’ve never come here in the first place” the hurt in my voice is evident and loud, and I might just burst into tears any second

I abruptly turn and sprint to the door, but before I can open it, he yanks my hand and pulls me to him

“I am so sorry, I know I’ve crossed way too many lines, I am a reckless fool, please forgive me, please stay” he says in the most desperate tone I have ever heard

“Give me one good reason why” I hiss

“I can’t” he replies

“I know I’ve caused you nothing but pain ever since I came back, I can see it on your face every single second, minute and hour I am near you, I have no excuse and no reason, I-I won’t force you to stay or do anything you don’t want to, but just know, how very sorry I am, for it all, we don’t even have to speak if that’s what you want, I care about you way more than I can ever express and I can’t handle seeing you so upset, I won’t hurt you, ever again, I promise, no matter what happens after the trials, it won’t change how I feel about you, nothing ever will” he says

I don’t reply, not because I don’t want to but because I just do not know how, my heart is heavy with a feeling I’d rather not feel, especially not for him, but I can not help it

“I don’t expect you to forgive me and-“

I don’t know what comes over me, but I wrap my arms around him in frantic desperation, as if he’s going to run away from me, as if I’m going to lose him all over again…

He slowly envelopes me in his arms, it’s very gentle, I can feel his heartbeat against my own, his warmth is infectiously addicting, I could practically fall asleep like this

“Don’t ever leave me, ever again, do you understand?” I assert

“I promise you with all my heart, I am never going away, my sweet earis” he replies in a soft, honeyed tone as he places a kiss on my cheek

“Zaros” I call to him as I pull away

“Yes?” He replies as he looks at me eagerly

“I have something very important to confess” I say

“What is it?” he replies as his expression grows more serious

“I am so very sorry I called you a leech” I say, not being able to hold back the mischievous smile forming on my face

At that we both erupt into laughter, and I embrace him once again, feeding off of his warmth

“And I’m sorry I called you a palace brat…though you still kind of are one” he says in a playful mocking manner

“Oh please , you love it” I reply in a calm, unbothered tone, my head resting his shoulder

“Yes, yes I do” he replies as he holds me tightly in his arms

[vroomian]

Yrz hit the garden of the royal palace in hell in ablaze of agony and with a glitching form. Unfortunately Lucifer and Lilith are out at the moment and three year old Charlie is in the garden with a pair of imp minders.

Unfortunately those imps see a random angel in the palace garden and abandon baby Charlie without looking back.

Wait, Yrz thinks through the agony, is that a fucking baby????

Also, Yrz immediately flash backs to his disastrous arrival in heaven and how he fried four weak angels just from loosing control.

Unfortunately this baby is sitting well within frying distance. She is also cute as — hah — hell.

Nope! Yrz has never hurt a baby in any goddamn lifetime and he’s not starting now. His monstrous will rises from the depths and his self control snaps it’s jaw around the agony and swallows it whole. He yanks his power into form. It still fucking hurts but that is the least important part of this situation. His glitching form snaps into a body that’s broken but solid. His paper wings and one leg are angled wrong, and what passes for ribs are for sure broken. Inky blood leaks from a multitude of wounds, turning to gold ichor when it touches the ground.

the baby remains unfried.

It only feels like he’s dying. It’s just a body. Yrz can deal.

Yrz’s still working on human adjacent facial features so he settles on manifesting one sheet of paper with a smiley face on it. “Hey honey, where are your parents?”

The little girl grins — and those are little baby fangs. “Daddy go out!”

Great.

Babysitting it is.

This, Yrz thinks, really is hell.

“You got a name, you little demon?”

The girls eyes honest to god sparkle. Why. How. “Char-char!

-

Lucifer and Lilith, alerted to an intruder by their panicked staff, show up in full demon forms.

They find baby Charlie happily scribbling over some of yrzs paper wings and chattering happily to a long suffering Yrz.

All the grown ups pause, wary.

Charlie immediately shrieks and wobbles to her parents in delight. Her very dangerous parents. Yrz recognizes that face from the archives.

Lucifer Morningstar snatches up his daughter like she’s a treasure he thought lost forever. And if that’s Lucifer the woman must be Lilith.

Yrz cannot catch a break.

Yrz clears his throat — or what passes for it. It sounds like a Peice of paper being torn apart. He morphs his stupid smiley face sheet into an origami rose. Harder to read. “I come in peace?”

Lucifer glances at the crater where his garden used to be. He raised an eyebrow.

Ah.

“I fell from heaven really, really fast in peace?” Yrz tries.

“Of course you did, And what do you do to be booted out of the pearly gates? Murder? Arson? Something — worse?” Lucifer sounded tired. He was still clutching Charlie to his chest which undermined the nonchalance in his voice.

Um. Yrz shrugs with his broken shoulders as much as he can. “Nothing really? I left.”

Yrz also trashed the place as he went, but that was more of a side effect than a cause. Besides, was a crime really committed if no one saw you do it?

“You — left.”

“Yeah.”

“You left paradise. The paradise created specifically for humans who lived virtuous lives. The paradise made specifically by God, the all knowing creator?”

“It was nice,” what Yrz had seen of it before he was locked in a golden cage for one hundred years. “But it was also kinda — boring.”

Lucifer stares. “Boring. My fathers crowning glory.”

“I’m sure God worked really hard on it?” Yrz half asked, getting a little annoyed with all the staring. “Look I don’t really know what you want me to say here. it’s not like I asked for eternal paradise okay. I literally just did my job to the best of my ability while I was alive! I don’t even worship any kind of god! I was ready for nothingness, without consciousness! Not hymns and sugar forever! No problems to solve at all!”

Yrz tried to keep himself entertained! But even all of the records of heaven couldn’t last forever for a being of pure information that Yrz had become, a thing that could just — absorb shit instantly,! make it a part of himself! He went through the whole archive in fifty years — and he never forgot anything anymore. Any longer in that cage and he would have chewed off his own wings. He would’ve broken his halo and used the pieces to see if suicide was still an option. He could feel himself slipping into that cold place where humanity meant less than nothing. The only thing that remained was the problem: a way out. By any means necessary.

Yrz was not a being made for stagnation.

Something was bound to break. So Yrz made sure it wasn’t him.

Sure heaven was a little bit… charred, but what prisoner felt bad for their jailers?

Not this one.

“What the fuck,” Lucifer said. His demon form vanished.

“Fuck!” Charlie said, cheerfully.

“Darling,” lilith said chidingly.

“Oh fuck — no I mean, darn! Sorry, dearest. Come on char-char, don’t say that, daddy didn’t mean to say a bad word!”

“Fuck!”

“Oh, this going to be like the s-word incident all over again huh? Why are children like this?”

Lilith and Yrz watched as the king of hell began to wander off, completely absorbed in his giggling daughter.

Finally Lilith broke the silence. “ you’re injured. Come and we shall see to your care.”

“And in return?” Yrz asked, wary.

He wouldn’t exchange one cage for another.

She smiled, a soft, sad little thing. “ while you recover, nothing. You shall be as an honored guest. Afterwards we shall negotiate.”

“…why?”

Lilith glanced after her husband and child. “I am no stranger to the marks left by those who are so convinced of their righteousness that they are blind to the grace of mercy. No one here is a friend to those golden cowards in their golden home.”

Yes. She would be. To be created and given to some man without choice — disgusting. Yrz would’ve rejected that commandment as well. He would belong to himself and those he chose.

“I can’t really move,” Yrz admitted sheepishly. “My — everything is broken.”

Lilith nearly smiled. “I am aware. The injures of a fall that long are also familiar. May I?” She knelt by him, careful of his wings. The scribbles from Charlie were very pink against their paleness.

Yrz blinked. Some sort of healing magic? “Sure — woah!”

Lilith picked Yrz up as if he weight nothing. He stifled a noise of agony and felt his form glitch again. He stilled with a grimness. No frying the queen of hell who’s trying to help you, asshole.

“Sorry,” he said because that had to sting.

“It is no matter,” Lilith said. “You are much more injured than I thought if your form is that unstable. “

“Well,” Yrz said. “There was a baby right there. I couldn’t just — my form is pretty difficult to withstand.”

Lilith paused and looked down to meet yrzs eyes would be, if he had any. “Thank you. She is dear beyond words to both of us. “

“I don’t need thanks for not hurting a kid,” Yrz said dryly. “Not lashing out when in pain is a basic adult skill.”

“And yet it is a rare talent.”

Yrz wished he had eyes so he could roll them. “It shouldn’t be.”

“Mama!” Charlie’s vice called out. “Come sing, sing! Fuck!”

Lilith laughed under her breath. She carried Yrz towards her home and family.

Hell, Yrz concluded, was beyond weird.

He felt better already.

[kairithemang0]

The nighttime loves you but it is not your friend

An overly in-depth essay on why bright take 22 from stereophonic is an Owen song

This is my post on why bright v1 is a Curt song, and may play into this post. I'd recommend just reading it over before reading this, and also I just like it

One thing I didn't mention in the Curt post is the instrumentation. v1 is simple piano, it is the first version after all. However, it does show the scale we're working with. It's piano, it's quiet, it's small. Curt feels small, he feels weak, a lot of this song is a post fall song, there are bits of memories, of moments from before, but for the most part it can be read as post fall.

However, take 22 has the full band. It's large, its booming, Owen's world has grown, while Curt's has shrunk. Owen's high up now, his world is bigger, it's better, and yet the lyrics remain the same for the most part. The chorus is the same, they're in the light of their lives, the light of realization, the light of pain.

"You've been singing in your sleep again, but the words come out all cluttered. I can't make sense. like you're dreamin' of a love song"

A memory, in this reading, the same way v1 starts. Owen remembering Curt, remembering how he doesn't understand him. Curt's version of pure love, of want, is a mess. He wants Owen, but he can't show it. How can he show it? Owen knows this, he thought he did. Or maybe, as Curt leaves, he was faking it all along. He wasn't, but no one is telling Owen that.

"Oh, what good is love when the wind starts blowin'? Nothing forgotten, nothing forgiven when the night comes to an end"

This is the same meaning as Curt's. It's the fall. The wind starts blowing, Curt is swept away. Nothing is forgotten, Owen doesn't forgive. Owen's captured, tortured, he remembers everything, he can't get it out of his head.

"Like a child, you hold out your hand and tremble like I'm right beside you and not a thousand miles away"

Playing into "i probably hated you just as much as you did". Curt sees Owen, he freezes at his memory. The Owen in Curt's head holds out a hand to him, right beside him, instead of rotting away in Chimera. Curt's scared, trembling, heart pounding. Owen's gone. It's his fault

"I'm in the bright light forgettin' my name. The shadow of our lives, familiar but strange. Without enough darkness left to hide all the pain. I'm in the bright light again"

Again, it means something similar to Curt's. The light of realization, the light of pain. Trembling in the light of their mistakes, of everything they'd change. Owen forgets his name, forgets himself. He becomes the DMA, yet still can't get rid of his thoughts of Curt, not even a man so dark and mysterious can hide what he's gone through, he shows this in torture tango, in the staircase scene. He can't hide it, his emotions are on full display after a lifetime of hiding them, but Curt knows how to break his walls down and show him that harsh light of pain and agony he refuses to see, not seeing it for 4 long years.

"The nighttime loves you, but it is not your friend. The lights will flicker, and we're lost again"

If Curt is the light, Owen is the dark. The night loves him, Owen loves him, but he's not his friend, not anymore. The lights will flicker, Owen is brought into the light for just a moment, maybe for just a moment Curt can reach him, but then he's gone, back in his shadows.

"The crowd is laughin', but the joke, it isn't clear. I long to click my heels and disappear, oh babe"

I don't really have one for the first half, possibly something on Chimera and their views? Owen agrees with them though, so I'm not sure. But that second part, OUGH. Owen hates himself, Owen hates what he's become, he just wants to be gone, to disappear, to escape this life, to escape Curt.

The chorus repeats, I'm in a bright light again repeats until it disappears. Until Owen disappears. He's in the bright light, Curt's bright light, and then he's gone, shot dead, no longer there. He's in the bright light again

[bagopucks]

M. Marner - Depths Of Love

✄————————————

Mitch Marner x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning(s): death of a loved one, angst, coping, moving on.

“We grew together, and now are grown. In her eyes, I see my heart. In her breath, I hear my soul. She is my land. She is my skin. My love.”

“All wounds heal. Even these."

“I'll never be healed of Eo. That pain will last forever.”

"Some things do not fade. Some things can never be made right.”

“There’s pain when I hold her, but it comes from the past…. She is something new, something hopeful. Like spring to my deep winter.”

Bonus points if you know the books these quotes are from!

I didn’t know what I wanted to write at first, I just knew I wanted to write for Mitch.

—————————————

“Mitch?” Auston stepped up beside his friend, resting a hand on the chilly damp fabric of Mitch’s suit jacket.

“I know.. I know.. I’m gonna get there.”

“There’s no rush, bud. Take your time.”

They stood together for what felt like hours. Mitch held the red rose in his hands, as delicately as he held her hand when she passed. Auston’s hand remained on his back, occasionally rubbing in an effort to console his lost friend. Mitch’s eyes had been red since he woke up that morning. His body had been on autopilot, gathering the belongings and items that had to go home with her family. Putting on a black suit he stuffed in the back of the closet forever ago. A black suit he said he never wanted to wear because it was too mundane. He had cooler things to wear. Now he understood why black fit funerals so well.

“What’s going through your mind?”

Mitch let out a shaky sigh.

“She’s gone. I’m gonna drop this flower and that’s just that.. she’s gone. They’re gonna-“ he choked on a breath of air, tears spilling down his cheeks once again.

“Buddy, you have to drop it eventually.”

“I didn’t want her to go.”

It was untimely. They’d just gotten engaged. They just began a binder full of wedding plans. She just began her journalist career. She had an extensive article on Mitch’s career she wanted to publish.

Then she got sick. Mitch’s world slipped from his fingertips more and more every day. He didn’t know how to grip onto anything when it was all just sand, blowing away. He lost it all so quickly. He felt like his whole world lost its meaning. The sun set, and the moon was dull. The stars in the sky didn’t even entice him. Nothing sounded interesting when she wasn’t there next to him.

Mitch released the flower only as a means to free his hands to grab ahold of Auston. Matthews’ arms enveloped Mitch in a grasp that was desperate and understanding. Auston held onto Mitch while he sobbed, the simple sound of agony causing the others gathered to allow the tears of their own to fall.

Mitch clung to Auston through the transition. Cleaning his house, attending therapy, deciding how to move forward, returning to hockey. He kept in touch with her family for the first week or so, then at some point, they all stopped texting and calling. It took months before Mitch’s life returned to a routine normalcy that was much like the one before her. Zeus slept in the bed again, his late nights were spent watching tv in bed, his dishes were only cleaned when the sink was full.

Sometimes Mitch slipped up to his attic to visit her. The items of hers that he kept. The wedding plans, the ring, the few articles of clothing. Sometimes he’d spend so many hours up there, that he’d fall asleep. Then eventually, he stopped visiting. His life became hectic. Enveloped it hockey. A firm distraction. A good one.

Then we met. Mitch’s smiles reached his eyes again. His giggles sounded genuine. The center of his world shifted again, to hold myself and hockey. He was guarded at first, but I was patient. I met her before I met his family. Mitch told me of her. She seemed wonderful. Like somebody I would have been friends with. Which was why I made a silent promise to myself, that I would not turn him into somebody she would have hated. I made a silent promise to her, that I would protect him. Hold him, and care for him. And that’s what I did.

Some days were better than others. We’d stay in and cook, or go out for dinner and dessert. Sometimes Mitch wanted me to join him for a quick skate. Other days, he wanted to join me in bed while I read. It wasn’t always perfect. Sometimes he’d randomly cry. I learned, sometimes I simply had to stop whatever I was doing to be there for him. If he wanted it. He was good at hiding away when he didn’t want any consolation. Other times, he’d be gone so long that I’d go looking for him, only to find him struggling to breathe in the corner of his room, on the floor with his dog curled up by his feet.

“Mitchy?” I cooed as my feet padded down the hall, stepping into the bedroom I woke up in. He was laid out on his stomach, in bed. His muscles looked tense, easily noticeable due to the lack of a shirt. I couldn’t see his face, but I could tell by his heaving breaths that something wasn’t right. Then I heard his soft cries.

I slowly wandered over to the bed and climbed in next to him, laying on my stomach and tossing an arm over his back to gently rub his skin.

“Deep breaths, sweetie.” I’d press occasional kisses to the side of his arm.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken.

“Don’t rush, hun.”

At some point, the tears stopped and the kisses began. Mitch would never forget her. She would never leave his heart, but he let go of the guilt. He told her of me. He told her how much he loved me. He showed her the ring he bought before he ever showed Auston.

“I think she’s really gonna love it.” Mitch smiled down at the ring box in his hands, seated in the grass by her headstone. “She loves square diamonds.“ He shook his head in disbelief. “I really hope she says yes.”

I did. It was a no brainer when he got down on one knee. When he asked me to spend his forever with him, I didn’t have any doubts. I worked far too hard, and loved him too much, to give him up.

There were moments after the engagement where he was tense. Nervous and stressed over recalling the moments when he lost his late fiancé. I had to remind Mitch that the uncertainty couldn’t stop him from living. I couldn’t assure him that he wouldn’t lose me. There would always be that possibility. What I did tell him, was that it was important to live in the moments while they last. To forget about the ‘what ifs.’

Mitch asked if his dog could be the ring bearer. I made him promise that Zeus wouldn’t jump on everybody. We comprised that Auston could walk the dog down the aisle.

“We are gathered here today…”

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” He whispered through clenched teeth. Mitch’s smile was contagiously wide. We stood so close that the priest was almost unable to be seen between us.

“I love you,” I spoke in a hushed tone. Mitch’s cheeks flushed.

“Don’t say it yet.” He squeezed my hands.

“Are we done yet?” Our heads snapped in the priest’s direction, our faces flushing.

“Sorry.” Mitch muttered.

The ceremony went by in a twinkle of wonder. Mitch pulled his vows from his pocket in the form of notes on his phone. I had done the same on my own, but my dress didn’t have pockets, so my maid of honor had to hold my phone for me until I was ready for it.

“Okay..” Mitch blew out a tense puff of air. He held his phone up, big blue eyes flickering between myself and his phone.

“Mitchy.” I caught his attention. “There’s no rush. Take your time.” The tension eased from his shoulders, then he nodded.

“Your patience gave me time to grow. I didn’t know what to do with my life for a period of time. I was walking in circles, until you paved a new path, and held my hand every step of the way. I get lost easily. Incredibly easily. And I couldn’t have fallen more in love with you than I did. I know it wasn’t easy.” I wanted to wipe the tears from his cheeks, but for the sake of not distracting him, I kept my hands to myself. “I know I made it hard on you, but I’m so happy you stuck it out. I can’t wait to spend every tomorrow with you.”

Only when he put his phone away, did I reach out to cup his cheeks in my hands. Mitch sniffled quietly. I would have kissed him then and there, if not for tradition.

“Miss?”

“I’m getting there.” I answered the priest with a quiet laugh. I pulled away from Mitch and turned to my bridesmaid to grab my phone. When I looked back at him, I reached for his hand with my free one.

“Mitchell,” the use of his full name made him smile. “You hold my soul. My entire being. You fulfill a part of me that nobody else could. We’ve grown together, and we’ll continue to do so. The timing with which we met each other, was perfect. One second later would have been too late. Please never forget my vow to love you for eternity. Even as the days pass by, and we grow old.”

When we kissed, I could feel the tears on Mitch’s cheeks. The cheering and excitement in the background was just that. Background noise. Our first kiss was as intimate as our first dance. We felt like the only two in the room, sharing moments we never thought we would have the privilege of sharing with anybody.

Mitch spun me around, content smiles on our lips. His hands found my hips when I faced him again.

At some point the song ended, but we never stopped swaying. Mitch’s arms wrapped around my midsection, and his chin came to rest on top of my head. There was the occasional flash from a camera, quiet whispers, but nobody said a word to us for a while. Until I heard Mitch’s mother from behind him.

“Mitchell?”

“I’m not done yet.” He fussed, his grip tightening around my body.

“There’s no rush, baby. I just wanted a photo.” He slowly turned us in her direction. I lifted my head from where it had been resting against his chest.

“Smile for me, sweethearts.” The woman held her phone up. When the flash of her camera lit up the dim room, we both laughed.

“Okay, okay. I’ll leave you guys alone now.” She squeezed her son’s arm before slipping off to find her husband.

Mitch and I slowly looked back at one another.

“I can’t wait to get you home,” he confessed softly as he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“No rush, baby.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[transmasccofee]

mini fic about Kusuo and Kuusuke bc I am a little crazy about them — tw for suicide attempt and suicidal ideation, as well as kind of gruesome injury and probably incorrect medical practices lol

also it’s 1st person bc I wrote a lot of this while half asleep and I guess wrote it in 1st person, and then when I woke up it was too woven into the narration to change it to 3rd. Sorry lol.

-

“I like this look on you,” Kuusuke says, a tinge of excitement in his voice. 

I don’t know what he means by that, he must notice my confusion, because he laughs. “You’re at the end of your rope, you’re gonna snap soon and do whatever you can think of that’ll make this all go away.”

I shudder. I don’t want to kill him, but I’m worried at this rate he won’t stop until I do. I don’t like being part of this new dynamic, wherein my own brother views me as a weapon he can do whatever he pleases with. 

He blasts his gun at me again, and it grazes my arm, singeing it. As this fight’s gone on, it’s almost like his machine has gotten more powerful. Or maybe I’ve just grown weaker to it…in any case, it hurts. It hurts so badly. I clench my teeth and try not to show it. 

“Hey. Do you think if I shot him he’d survive?” He grins, gesturing to a certain fallen esper who up until now has gone relatively unmentioned. My blood runs cold and the second I start running towards Toritsuka, another blast can be heard. Panicking, I teleport in front of him, blocking him with my body. The bullet hits my chest and stomach, and the only word I can use to describe the feeling that follows is agony. I want to scream, but I bite my tongue. 

Kuusuke looks at me, his expression different now. “You’re really not gonna kill me, are you?”

I don’t know what to say. It’s hard to think of words right now, I kind of just want to throw up and fall asleep forever. My ears are ringing. Of course I wasn’t gonna kill you, just how do you view your little brother? How have you viewed me my whole life?

Suddenly he seems frustrated, he starts shooting faster and more randomly, he looks  like a madman and in the moment it’s terrifying. About 30% of his shots are hitting me, and at some point the pain gets too great to be interpreted as pain anymore, and instead mellows into a dull aching numbness. I’m depleting my energy to get my limiter back, but in this moment it doesn’t feel worth it. If I had my full powers it might be easier to dodge these bullets consistently. 

I slump over slightly, and he makes some taunting comment. I don’t bother listening. It all hurts so much. I wish I’d been born normal so then maybe we could be playing video games together instead of doing whatever this is.

I wish we could be doing that. A bullet scorches my hair, and this imaginary world where me and him are friends starts to consume my thoughts. 

Despite myself, my shoulders shake. I can barely stand up anymore, in this imaginary world where I’m not ruining everything, Kuusuke notices and runs over to help. 

I know I’m not there, though, when I look up through watering eyes and see a bright light pointed directly at my face. 

If this hits me, I’ll die. I don’t know how exactly I know that, but I know I know.

Without thinking, I half duck half collapse to the ground. It misses and crumbles the wall behind me. Now I just have to get back up, I still need my limiter back, and Toritsuka is still in acute danger. 

…I find then that I can’t get up. I try but everything my body refuses and I slump back down to the cold stone floor. Great. 

It’s my fault, I overdid it. Now Toritsuka is probably gonna die, and I’m probably gonna die, and it’s my fault. Helplessly, a choked sound escapes me. I don’t want to die here, I don’t want Toritsuka to die here. Shit, I completely failed him. 

After a moment, I notice that I’m the only one making any noise. The bullets have stopped coming, and Kuusuke is silent. 

Tentative, he leaves the machine, then he must see my sorry physical state because he breaks into a run towards me.

Unwittingly I flinch back. He notices this too, and slows. Then, he pauses and throws off his mask. His facial expression is one I haven’t seen him make before. 

“I went too far, didn’t I?” Is all he says. I don’t understand, but I can’t do much as he grabs me and flips me onto my back. He makes a hissing noise, which I curl inwards at. “Sorry,” he says. “I’m gonna need to take your shirt off.”

What…? I shake my head vigorously. Of course it’s just another game. Honestly, how was I so stupid as to think he was actually concerned for a second? 

“Kusuo,” he pleads. “This is kind of serious, I need to be able to see the full extent of the damage.”What damage? Does he mean my stomach? I’m fine. I mean, it hurts, but it’s fine.

He takes off my jacket anyways, then curses and peels off my undershirt too. I’m waiting for something to happen, someone to pop out and upload a photo of me at my weakest to the internet as some awful prank, my friends (sans Toritsuka) to come walking out and see me like this, anything. For some reason none of that is happening, Kuusuke is silently surveying me, his whole face is pinched in some unreadable expression. 

“Here, stay here,” he orders. I want to laugh, as it is I can’t even stand, what does he expect me to do?

In my peripheral, I see Toritsuka. He seems to be stirring. Internally, I beg him not to. I can’t do anything right now, he could kill me if he wanted, and then Kuusuke would probably kill him.

When he comes back he’s carrying an array of things. Bandages, water, a cloth, some kind of disinfectant, and a black blanket. It’s odd, despite everything, despite all our fighting, I never feared my brother until now. It’s a potent feeling, and I have to look away. I don’t know what he’s planning. Without a word he hoists me onto his knee, and begins doing something. I can’t stop him without killing him, so I don’t. 

I can feel water, then the cloth dabbing at my chest and arms shoulders, then something cold and sharp touching me. It hurts more than I except. Part of me just wants to surrender, let unconsciousness spare me from any more of this, but then I’d really be powerless against him, so I fight it off. 

I feel something wrap tightly around my torso, and then he murmurs something and puts my undershirt back on, before wrapping me in what is definitely that shitty blanket he brought out. 

For a brief moment, I let myself feel relieved. Then he climbs back onto the machine, and I feel my stomach sink. Tears spring to my eyes. I knew he didn’t like me, but isn’t this…too cruel? Letting me feel safe before destroying me? I brace for the killing blow, knowing that even if I try to teleport away, i won’t have enough control of my muscles to protect myself. 

But it never comes. 

Instead, I hear a turning of keys, and it powers off. He walks back over to me and sighs. I feel small, curled up in this thin blanket on the floor, shaking uncontrollably under him. I’m not meant to be this useless, nor this out of my element. 

“Shit…” he mutters, mostly to himself. “I really did go too far. Look at you. What am I even doing?”

I don’t know what he means. 

“Are you in any pain?” He asks. I want to scoff at him, but I’m still a little on edge and my mind is still numb from the earlier agony it faced. I nod slowly. He inhales.

“I’m sorry.” 

It catches me off guard. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard him apologize like that. I’m dumbfounded. 

“You’re my baby brother, I don’t- I don’t know how I could stoop to something like this. What if I’d killed you…?”

I blink at him. I…I don’t understand. I want to go home. Looking around me I notice the not insignificant amount of blood that had pooled where I was laying. Kuusuke is also covered in blood. Wait, how bad were my injuries?

I look at my shirt, and with sudden horror, I throw up. I wipe my mouth with my sleeve and in the corner of my eye I see my brother’s eyes are as wide as saucers. 

“Shit,” he apologizes again. “Yeah. I guess I really really hurt you. You’re even throwing up…On the bright-side, your friend over there is awake.”

That’s not a good thing, I glare at him hoping that’s conveyed. He looks at me and shrugs, nonchalant. “Don’t worry, he’s not gonna hurt you.”

This time I do scoff out loud. What the hell is he talking about? He just tried to kill me, he’s always hated me, you were the exact person who caused him to realize that. 

Toritsuka looks around blearily, then he makes eye contact with me. I steel myself, waiting for him to laugh, take advantage of my current state, mock me at least. 

He doesn’t, in fact, I’m surprised to see his eyes grow wide with horror. Suddenly he’s crying out my name and barreling towards me, he looks devastated. I don’t know how I’m meant to react. Yet again I don’t understand, I haven’t understood anything that’s happened in the past few minutes. Why are people suddenly treating me like I’m fragile?

He’s at my side, prodding around at my injuries and then the stained floor around me, and then my face. His eyes soften and fill with tears. 

“This is all my fault,” he hiccups. “I- the scientist… he- I’m such an idiot for ever listening to him. Now you’re all hurt, and it’s- I caused it…” 

I don’t say anything, none of this is anything I’m used to. He looks at the intact wall where he was a moment ago, then at me. His whole face sinks into something genuinely pained.

“You protected me, didn’t you.” He sounds really unlike himself, and it creeps me out. Apprehensively, I nod.  I did, but it’s not a huge deal. He doesn’t have to make it a huge deal. 

“Why…?”

Why? I pause. I don’t know. Looking up at him, I shrug. You’re my friend. I guess I care about you. That’s why. 

He shakes his head, then his gaze focuses in on my chest. “Shit…P-Please don’t tell me that’s not where that came from.” He points to the blood soaked bandages hugging my torso. I resist the urge to gag looking at them again. This kind of devastation on my own body is admittedly fascinating, but to someone like me it’s also disturbing. I’m kind of miffed that he’s decided to remind me of that area so blatantly, what happened to manners? Don’t point out the gaping hole in your friends chest so crudely, Toritsuka. 

My lack of response clearly functions as a response for him, because he eventually chokes back a knowing sob. “Shit, fuck, goddammit,” he cries. “I’m the worst, I’m seriously the worst. I’m so sorry. If- if you don’t want to see me again after this…I-“ he trails off. 

I’m a little stunned. It’s really not a big deal. It’s not like he was the one shooting at me, that guy’s lingering a few feet away like a creep. I try to explain this to him, but it just makes it worse. He’s actually crying now, which is making me all sorts of uncomfortable. “Don’t forgive me so easily!” He sobs into my arm. I sigh. This is a pain, all of this is. I’m tired, at this point I just want to go home and sleep. 

Kuusuke must notice, as he takes a step towards me. Suddenly, I notice that I can hear his thoughts. 

Toritsuka catches him moving, and jumps in front of me protectively. “St-stay away!” He snarls. Kuusuke looks amused for a second, but quickly his expression shifts into one of irritation. 

“You’re bothering him. Let me take him home.”

“As if i’d trust you! He almost died because of you! I mean, just look at what you did to him!” Toritsuka gestures widely at me and the area surrounding me. Kuusuke doesn’t answer, and now that I can read his thoughts, I can tell…he’s feeling guilty.

Well, of course, He had apologized earlier, but it takes me aback just how potent it truly is. For most of my life I assumed he hated me, assumed he didn’t care about me at all, but now…I don’t know if knowing he does makes me feel better or worse. 

“I’m sorry,” he says at last, not really directly to either of us. He’s looking past me, straight at the destroyed walls behind us. “I know I went too far, but he can’t stay here.”

“So I’ll take him home!” Toritsuka argues, unwilling to trust him. It’s understandable, I wouldn’t. I don’t. 

“It’s better if I do. You’ll jostle him. Plus, he’s my brother, so if It’s me our parents will be more understanding.”

That last part’s a blatant lie, I know it and I know he knows it. The first part is reasonable, though. Toritsuka is only a little heavier than me, and he’s not very physically fit. Carrying me all the way back to my house on his own would be difficult and potentially dangerous for both of us. 

“You’re his brother…??” He gapes, then rage takes over his shock. “How could you do something like this, then?!”

He yet again doesn’t answer, and his thoughts grow even heavier. Honestly I find that I kind of miss his limiter. 

Annoyed, I attempt to sit up, the sharp stabbing pain that jolts through me makes me regret that choice, as I slam back down against the floor. Both of them whirl around to look at me with considerable distress. 

“Don’t move,” Kuusuke is the first to speak. I glare, wanting nothing more than to punch him right now. My injuries should’ve healed by now, right? Why haven’t they?

He looks sheepish. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “Er, about that…the way my invention works, those are gonna stay for a while. Sorry.”

I stare at him, Toritsuka does too. 

“I created it to weaken you, so…it sort of overrides everything about you, including the mind control you’ve done.”

I blink. I’ll ask him how he even did that later, right now I’m just furious. Seriously, what was he thinking? My mind is more clear than it was earlier, and I at least feel enough in my element to be angry, even if physically the bets are still off.

Internally I beg Toritsuka not to ask about the mind control thing, I’m too tired to even attempt explaining that.

Fortunately he doesn’t, though I’m all too aware of how he shelves it for later questioning. 

“By weaken, don’t you just mean destroy?” Is what he asks instead. I now wish he’d just asked about the mind control. What kind of loaded question is that? He realizes I’m right here, doesn’t he?

“I created it to destroy myself,” he says honestly. I already knew, but hearing it out loud, so blatantly is still hurtful. Toritsuka looks confused, so unfortunately he elaborates. “I was hoping if I drove him low enough, he’d snap and destroy me.” Too honest. Dial it back a bit for the readers at home. 

“Oh,” is all Toritsuka can think to respond with. I really can’t blame him. I want to go home, I don’t want to be here anymore. 

“It was a mistake, though, and now look. My baby brother is badly hurt, all because of me.”

“…yeah. He really is.” Not helpful. Both of you should leave, just let me die here, it’s better than having to listen to this exchange any longer. 

They stop talking, though their thoughts are both still so loud. It’s all too heavy, I can’t deal with this, especially not presently. 

“…fine,” Toritsuka says. “Only If Saiki-san is fine with it, we’ll accept your help.”

I kind of want to ask where he got the idea that he had stakes in this decision at all, but honestly I’m a little relieved he’s here acting as a middle-man. 

“Okay. And? Is he?” Kuusuke questions, peering over at me. I shrug. “You don’t know?” I shrug again. I don’t want to interact with him. 

“You’re upset, you don’t want to talk to me,” he says matter of factly.  I forgot that he’d gotten kind of skilled at reading me. “I get it, but I really do need to know where you stand on this, otherwise there’s not much I can do for you.”

I sigh. As much as I keep telling myself I want to go home, the idea of my parents seeing me like this is mortifying, especially if he’s there too. 

“You don’t want to go home? You’re scared of our parents seeing you like this, especially when I’m there too?” He parrots. I flinch. know I said he was skilled at reading me, but that’s basically just telepathy. Toritsuka makes a face like he’s just had an idea. 

“He can go to my house! I have a lot of first aid stuff.”

You do? Why? Actually, I don’t want to know. Admittedly, it’s not an awful idea if I ignore the fact that I’d be inside Toritsuka’s house. The one good thing about being in a situation like this with these two is that they both know not to suggest the hospital. Hesitantly, I nod. 

“Great, that’s settled then?” Kuusuke sounds tired too. 

“I guess so.”

“Where do you live?”

“Oh, right. Erm…I’ll just lead you guys there.”

“Ok then.”

Kuusuke, without much warning, scoops me up off the ground. “Lead the way!” He chirps, presumably trying not to sound too annoyed.

Surprisingly, Toritsuka actually manages to lead us to where he lives without much issue. Maybe he’s more reliable than I thought. That, or my bar is just way too low for him. Probably the second one. 

“He can go on the bed,” he says over his shoulder. Kuusuke nods and sets me down. “So…now what are we doing?” He comes back with way more first aid supplies than any one person should ever need. Now I really feel the need to know why he had this stuff in the first place…

“Stitches.” Kuusuke replies, completely distracting me from Toritsuka’s stash. Did I hear that right? How does he intend to do that, an ice pick can’t break my skin, so really, how does he expect a needle to be able to??

He laughs. “Are you curious about how I’d be able to break your skin?”

Yes, but stop reading my mind, please. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve studied you enough to know this isn’t an issue. See, it’s not actually that your body is impenetrable…it’s a protective shield, a very thin protective shield.”

I’m confused by what he’s trying to say. 

“Basically,” he explains. “Your body naturally stops anything from harming you, of course it’s not impossible to bypass this shield, but most things that would kill a regular person won’t really affect you...”

I’m about to ask where he’s going with this, but Toritsuka beats me to it. “Sorry, but what does this have to do with giving him stitches…?”

“The stitches wouldn’t be harming him, they’d be helping him.”

“Ohhh. Right. Okay, I get it.” He lies. 

I’m skeptical. Kuusuke knows more about my body than I do, but it’s hard to trust him. I guess there’s not any other options, and I don’t really know how he could use this to beat me anyways. Reluctantly, I give him permission to attempt this. 

Against all my expectations, it kind of works. I mean, the first needle shatters, as do the second and third, but once I manage to relax it becomes almost too easy. Of course, it hurts, though strangely not as much as him cleaning the wound in preparation had. Toritsuka is talking to me about something stupid, I couldn’t make out what he was saying even if I wanted to, my mind is swimming too much. The sound of his voice is a decent distraction, though. 

Eventually, after what must’ve been a few hours, as well as the tragic loss of many needles that shattered the second I tensed even a little, Kuusuke finishes up. 

“Good as new!” He says, which is objectively untrue, but whatever. “…How do you feel?”

Bad, but less urgently. I don’t know if I can sit up yet, the thought of trying makes me shiver. Right now I’m tired, all I want is to sleep. 

“I’ll check in tomorrow. You’ll look after him, I assume,” he asks Toritsuka, who nods. “Alright.”

And with that he’s off. 

Toritsuka looks at me, all I can hope is that he won’t try to engage in serious conversation with me. He doesn’t.

He doesn’t say anything, actually. He thinks a lot, a lot of apologies, but he says nothing aloud. Silently, he lays on the floor and closes his eyes. 

I roll my eyes, he’s punishing himself. That’s annoying. Do what you like, but in front of me? over something that wasn’t your fault…? When he falls asleep I’ll be sure to give him at least a pillow and blanket, it won’t help anyone if we have two people in pain tomorrow. 

Once he’s asleep, I finally let myself drift off too. 

I’m woken up by Toritsuka’s miserable thoughts. It seems Kuusuke isn’t here yet, in the meantime I wonder if there’s anything I can do to make Toritsuka realize he doesn’t have to be so hard on himself. It’s fine. 

“Can you sit up yet?” He asks, I blink at him. It’s too early for this, seriously. I just woke up. 

I push myself up with my elbows, there’s a significant throbbing pain throughout my body, but I can ignore that. 

“Hey, that’s good! Maybe your weird brother was wrong…?”

He probably wasn’t, but one can hope. I give a thumbs up, for whatever reason my hands are shaking. 

Kuusuke arrives, he checks in, “supervises” for awhile, then he leaves. At night Toritsuka tries to punish himself by sleeping completely uncovered on the hard floors, I thwart his plans and then fall asleep myself. This repeats for weeks, honestly it’s becoming monotonous. Kuusuke keeps reassuring us that he has all the technical stuff “handled”, and I guess I have to believe him. 

Not only that, it’s all frustrating. There’s something nagging at me, it feels like a pit in my stomach, the same feeling you get when you haven’t eaten for a long time, and I don’t know what it is or why it’s happening. There’s something we didn’t address, but I can’t put my finger on what it is. 

It comes to me one day, at a point where I’m far enough long in this awful recovery period that I can walk around with only some agonizing pain. The stitches have been removed, I’m probably gonna go to my regular home soon. Toritsuka’s gradually stopped punishing himself, everything is going…fine. 

I’m even kind of getting along with Kuusuke, if I ignore everything that lead up to this, I might be able to pretend we’ve always been like this. 

Then one day, it’s like he snaps.

“Kill me,” Kuusuke says, grabbing my shoulders. It’s raining, we’re both outside and he’s knocked over the umbrella I was holding. I’m too shocked to respond. “I’m asking you to kill me, however you like, but please kill me.”

I can’t think of what to say to him. Weren’t we over this…? I guess not. That must’ve been what was bothering me so much. He looks desperate, desperate in a way I haven’t seen him before. 

“I deserve it, you deserve to be the one who does it. It would be humiliating to die to anything besides you, so please…”

I really thought we were over this. 

There’s some kind of cruelty present here, and the worst part is I don’t even know if he recognizes it. I feel the resolve I’ve been clutching crumble just a little. 

The reality is I never, never in my life, truthfully wanted to kill him, I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone. I wish I’d made that clearer, maybe we could’ve avoided all of this. I feel, for a moment, profoundly angry, then it’s washed away and all I can feel is hurt. Hurt that even after all this, he still thinks of me this way, hurt that he thinks of himself this way, hurt that our relationship is like this. I want to cry, I want to curl up as tight as possible and cry until all of this melts away. How did we even get here? How did it get this bad? 

He looks about two seconds from breaking down himself. I don’t know how to fix this, I don’t think I can. Once again I picture that imaginary reality where I’m normal, and I imagine a Kuusuke who’s offering words of comfort.

Against my will, tears come rushing. I can’t stop them, I’m helpless. I’ve caused all of this, the fault of my existence is why any of us are in this situation. My face is wet, and I don’t care to tell what’s from rain and what’s from me. It’s humiliating regardless. 

“Kusuo…? Are you…-” He sounds so far away. Quickly, I cover my face with my arm, stepping back in shame. I wish I’d just gone home when I was first injured, I want my mom, she’d know what to say right now. Then again, I’m sure that would’ve caused her a lot of trouble, so it’s probably good I didn’t. Probably. I don’t know. 

“Are you crying?” He asks, I laugh. Obviously I’m not. Or, wait, actually I am. Huh. I’m crying right now.

I’m so tired of all this. I know our relationship will never be like the one I keep picturing, but I just wish it was better than this. I don’t want to be crying alone right now.

He pauses. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. No matter how much he says that, I can’t seem to believe him. “I see now, I’m wrong.”

I don’t know what he means, I don’t want to know. It’s a different kind of pain, this feeling. 

“You want a normal brother, don’t you?”

I guess so, Its more that I want to be a normal brother. I don’t want to be someone he feels the need to compete with all the time, I want to be someone he can laugh with and play video games with and not feel like he’s going up against a machine. 

The pit in my stomach deepens, and it hurts terribly. Like a child would, I reach out and grab his sleeve. He freezes as I do so. I don’t know what to say to him, I’m just desperate and hurt and alone, and he was there.

“…What are you doing? Why are you grabbing me?” I can’t think of a coherent reply. He was there, is all I can think of. Logically I know it’s probably deeper than that. I don’t respond, I can’t let go. If I let go…I don’t want to think about it. 

After a moment, I feel arms wrap around me. He’s hugging me. For whatever reason, he’s hugging me. 

I don’t move, I’m scared if I do, that I’ll hurt him. I don’t want to do that. He exhales. “I don’t know why you keep me around, if I was you I would’ve killed me ages ago.”

Huh. I shrug. I don’t know, I say to him. You’re my brother, and I guess I care about you. That’s why. 

[mystique-6]

Kinktober Day 5 Table Sex

Summary: Ailis tries to make the best of a bad situation. She manages to make it worse.

Hello! My hyperfixation on Astarion has got me in the writing mood so I will be participating in Kinktober using @flightlessangelwings Kinktober list. The pieces may be part of a bigger fic(s). I have started the fic. If you like this please consider checking out my main fic, This is Me Trying. (Can you tell I like Taylor Swift?) Either way, I hope you enjoy. I do plan on completing the 31 prompts though it will take me past October. I also have the fic posted on AO3.

Warning: Anyone under 18 do not interact. Please pay attention to the tag warnings below.

Tag Warnings: Table Sex, Non-consensual Touhing, Non-consensual spanking, Impact Play, Non-con/rape, vampire bite, semi-public sex, penis in vagina sex, anal fingering, figging, domestic violence, abuse, gags, orgasm denial

Additional Note: This fic involves Ascended Astarion.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from BG3.

Ailis paused before the large oak doors of the dining room and took a deep breath.  She loathed this hour of the day when she was forced to dine with Astarion.  On a good day, it was the only time she saw him.  Other days he required more of her presence and the meal usually ended up as a prelude before something unpleasant.  Today had been a good day.  It seemed aa shame to ruin it with his presence.  She took another deep breath, opened one of the heavy oak doors, and swept into the dining room.

“Ah!  There you are, my darling consort!” Astarion exclaimed.  “You look beautiful this evening.”  She watched him take in her form she had draped in a midnight blue, velvet evening gown.  Her dark, black-brown hair was worn up in a braided bun.

“Thank you, my Lord,” she managed to force out in a polite tone.  She took her seat across from him at the ridiculously long dining table.  When they had first started living here, the size of the table had annoyed her.  Now she was grateful for the distance.  She took in the spread laid out for them; two golden goblets full of blood for her and a plate of ham with roasted potatoes and carrots for Astarion.  He also had his own goblet of blood and another filled with a red wine.  She frowned at her own goblets.  It wasn’t so much that she missed food.  She just didn’t like the reminder that she couldn’t have it any longer.  Astarion noticed her pouting.

“Is there something wrong with the blood I provided for you?” he asked.  She heard the warning in his tone.

“No.  Nothing,” she replied quickly and took a sip.  It was never enough to satisfy her hunger.  She forced a smile on her face anyway and Astarion nodded his approval.  She felt relief that he let the perceived slight go.  They went through the meal in silence.  They were the only two in the room.  Astarion always just rang a bell when he needed something else brought in, rather than have the staff stay in the room during their meals.  This hadn’t bothered her in the beginning.  She had enjoyed the intimacy of just the two of them dining alone.  Now she thought having the servants in her would be a nice distraction from the loud silence between them.

She finished her two goblets of blood and gazed at the old grandfather clock that stood against the adjacent wall.  Only twenty minutes had passed.  She couldn’t stand the thought of spending another forty minutes of tense silence.  She turned to stare at Astarion but she knew he would never dismiss her early.  She saw him reach for the Baldur’s Gate news pamphlet he read every evening, and she knew she had to do something to end this agony.

“How was your day?” she cried out in a forcefully optimistic tone.  Astarion’s hand paused over the pamphlet and he looked across the table at her in surprise.  By his baffled expression one would have thought she’d suddenly grown two heads.

“I’m sorry, darling.  What did you say?” he asked.

“I asked how your day was,” she said.

The look of surprise changed to one of suspicion.  “If you were needed on one of my current plans for the city, I would have included you, darling,” he said.  “Don’t trouble yourself about them.”  He started to reach for his news pamphlet again.  Ailis closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she tried to force back a scowl.  It had been months since either of them had initiated a normal conversation during dinner.  She should have anticipated he’d be suspicious.  She tried again.

“I wasn’t asking how your plans are going,” she said in an even tone.  “I was asking about your day.  Was it a good day?  Anything exciting happen?  Do you have anything you want to discuss.  That is what I meant.”

The look of surprise returned to his face and then shifted to confusion, though she could still see a hint of suspicion in his expression.  “I’m not sure why any of that matters to you, my dear,” he said stiffly.  “How my day went had nothing to do with you.”

This time she couldn’t hold back a groan of frustration.  “I am trying to make conversation with you!” she exclaimed.  “We never just talk anymore!  We used to talk…”  She cut off as she realized just how true her words were.  She couldn’t even remember the last conversation they’d had that didn’t involve thinly veiled threats or barbs.

Astarion stared at her for such a long moment she thought he was just going to ignore her, but finally he answered.  “My day was rather tedious.  All meetings that made very little progress.”  He paused.  “How was your day?”

Ailis tried to stifle her surprise.  She hadn’t expected him to return the inquiry.  “Also tedious.  There’s nothing for me to do here.”

Astarion snorted in derision.  “You have an entire library at your disposal,” he said.  “Not to mention the gardens or you could go riding along the grounds.  You also need only advise the servants to bring you anything you like.  If it’s something we don’t have here they’ll get it for you.”

“I’ve done all that you just suggested numerous times before,” she said.  “Doing the same thing day after day gets tiring.”

“My you have become spoiled, haven’t you?  It’s unbecoming, pet,” he scolded.  She looked down at her empty goblets shamed.  She looked back up when he spoke in a gentler tone.  “Why don’t you interact with the other spawn?  You might not feel so bored if you had more companionship.”

“The other spawn don’t like me,” she said, and was surprised by the sad tone in her voice.  She often told herself she didn’t care that she was ostracized from the other spawn.  She understood why they didn’t care for her.  Although Astarion was awful to her, he was even worse to his other spawn and he often set her up on a pedestal he made sure the others knew they wouldn’t reach.  Of course, they didn’t like her.

Astarion considered her words for a moment and nodded.  “They’re just jealous of you, darling,” he said.  “And they should be.  You’re far above them.  You shouldn’t concern yourself with whether they like you or not.”  She forced back a groan of frustration.  She shouldn’t be surprised his suggestion was to force her presence on the other spawn and ignore her discomfort.  He was forcing her into that situation every day with their dinner arrangement.  She reminded herself she was trying to make the best of it.

“What I would really like to do, is get out of the mansion,” she said, and then added quickly.  “Find something to do in Baldur’s Gate.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Astarion replied stiffly.

“Why not?” she challenged.

She watched as a flare of his temper appeared in his gaze, but he answered her calmy.  “There are numerous miscreants walking the streets of this city.  You are my consort.  It is my duty o keep you safe.  You are safe here in the mansion.”

“In case you’re forgetting, I helped save this city.  I don’t need your protection,” she said.  She was honestly surprised he kept control of his temper.

“That was before I became the vampire ascendent, darling,” he said, a dangerous tone to his voice.  “There are those who would see me brought down.  These wicked, ignorant fiends would gladly try to use you to get to me, or hurt you to hurt me.  I won’t risk your safety.”

“You could come out with me,” she persisted.  “We haven’t done anything together in a long time.”

Astarion paused, but ultimately shook his head.  “I’m far too busy, darling,” he said.  “And really, there’s nothing happening in Baldur’s Gate worth our seeing.”

“So, you’ll neglect me simply because you aren’t interested in any events?” she snapped, finally losing her own temper.  She paled at the rage filled expression he gave her.  She’d finally crossed a line.

“Neglect you?” he hissed.  “Darling, I provide for you everything a person could want.  Others would be envious of your position, and yet you’ve grown so spoiled you are incapable of being grateful.”  She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand to stop her.  “I really think you ought to be taught a lesson.  Come here, pet.”  Ailis hesitated, but stood when he opened his mouth to compel her.  She walked over to stand in front of him on legs that suddenly felt heavy as lead.

He observed her for a moment and then said, “Remove your clothes, darling.”           

Ailis blinked, and then shot nervous glances towards the rooms two entrances.  “The servants could enter at any moment,” she whispered.

“Ungrateful consorts don’t deserve privacy,” he said.  “Remove your clothes.”  When she continued to hesitate, he reached out and ripped her dress off her.  She let out a startled cry and quickly removed her remaining garments until she stood naked before him.

“Now get on the table on all fours,” he ordered.  She tried once again to protest but his time he stopped her with compulsion.  “Now, pet.”  She unwillingly moved to the table and moved his dining ware and news pamphlet out of the way before climbing up onto the table in front of him.  He stood up and then pressed down on her back between her shoulders so her chest laid on the table and her ass was raised up in the air.  He then rang the servant’s bell.

“No,” she whimpered.

“Hush, darling,” Astarion scolded.  “And don’t move from that position.”  Her body reacted to the command and she was locked in place, unable to try to shield herself from anyone’s eyes.  Her face flamed when she heard the servant’s entry door open and an angry tear slipped down her face at the indignity of being put on display like this.  She heard a brief murmur of voices with words spoken too low to hear, the door closing, and then reopening a few minutes later.  Another exchange of words occurred and then the door closed.

She trembled as she heard Astarion walk up behind her and then cried out as he shoved two fingers into her anus with no warning.  She grimaced as he roughly pumped his two lightly greased fingers one or two times and then slightly scissored them inside her before he removed them.  His fingers were then replaced by a different object, she assumed a plug, at her entrance before that was slid into place.  She was relieved at least the toy was greased, considering how wet it felt. 

“All right, darling?” Astarion asked, stroking her hip.

“Y-yes,” she replied in a shaky voice as she adjusted to the intrusion.  She waited for him to continue, but he just continued to stroke her body from her hip down her thigh and back.  She had just begun to relax slightly when the inside of her ass began to burn.  She cried out in shock.

“Darling?” Astarion questioned, but she heard the smirk in his voice and she realized now what he had been waiting for.

“It burns!”  she cried.  “What is it?”

“Peeled gingerroot,” he answered and stepped up to where she could see his face.  His expression was smug.

“Take it out!” she ordered.

“I don’t think so, love.  This is a punishment, remember?” he said.

“Please take it out!” she begged.  “I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!  Please!”

“You’re not sorry,” Astarion stated harshly.  “You just want me to do what you want, but I’m not here to give you what you want.  I’m here to give you what you need, and right now, you need a lesson on gratitude.”  He suddenly thrust an apple in front of her mouth.

“Open,” he ordered and she obediently opened her mouth.  “Bite down on the apple.”  She did and grimaced as the apple’s juice filled her mouth.  It tasted like decaying garbage left out to rot in the sun.  She looked up at him with watery eyes.  He was staring down at her with a stern glare as he pulled off his belt.  “I’m going to give you twenty lashes with my belt.  You are not to drop the apple until I say so.  If you do, I will give you five more lashes for each time you drop it.  Nod that you understand.”

She nodded and he moved behind her.  She trembled as she waited for the first lash and then cried out, the sound muffled by the apple in her mouth.  He had hit her with his full force and the sting from the leather made her skin feel like it was on fire.  Worse, when she’d clenched down to brace herself for the next blow, the burn from the gingerroot grew more intense.  She screamed and sobbed around the apple as she was forced to take the full blow from the belt or clench around the gingerroot.  She felt an overwhelming since of doom and panic as she tried not to bite down too hard on the apple and let it fall from her mouth.

Finally, the last blow hit and she heard his belt drop to the floor.  She rested there as she shook from her sobs and then flinched when she felt his hands grip onto her hips.  He pulled her ass and hips down so she was parallel to the table and then pulled her back a bit so she was closer to the edge.  She felt the head of his cock press to her cunt and she moved to rest on her forearms so she could brace herself.  He brutally thrust into her and then set a punishing pace.

His thrusts left her in the same situation as the beating, and she was once again forced to take the full brunt of his thrusts against her bruised ass or clench around the gingerroot and worsen its burning sensation.  However, it was slightly better as his cock dragged against a sensitive spot inside her with each thrust.  He made no move to touch her, however, so she started to move her hand down to do it herself.  His hand caught hers in a crushing grip and he moved it back to where it had been resting.  His other hand slapped her bruised ass harshly and she whimpered.

“You cum from my cock alone or you don’t cum at all, pet,” Astarion grunted as he continued to pound in and out of her.  “This isn’t about your pleasure.”  Tears streamed down her face as he continued to take his own pleasure from her body and left her wanting.  She could tell he was approaching his release when his thrusts lost their rhythm. 

Suddenly, one of his hands wrapped around her throat and she was lifted to a kneeling position.  He adjusted the position of her head to bare her neck and then roughly sunk his fangs into her neck.  Her scream was muffled by the apple and she writhed from the agony of his harsh bite.  She felt a cold numbness spreading through her body and then the room began to spin as he continued to drink from her.  Dark spots began to grow around the edges of her vision until finally the whole room went dark and she was lost.

She did not know how long she was out, but she felt very groggy and weak when she regained consciousness.  She was still on the table, though she was now resting on her side.  Her ass throbbed from the lashes of the belt and the burn from the gingerroot still inside her, though that had diminished.  Somehow, she still had the apple clenched between her teeth.  She shifted and tried to push herself up to a sitting position.

“Careful, love,” Astarion said, and gripped her hip gently before pulling the gingerroot out.  She whimpered and he shushed her as he helped her move off the table then.  “Go slowly now.”  She managed to raise herself up and he then lifted her off the table before setting her down in his chair.  The room spun and she felt an overwhelming sensation of nausea.  She lowered her head between her knees and took deep breaths through her nose, while Astarion gently stroked her hair.  After another moment, she raised her head to look back up at him.

“Here, darling, you can let go of the apple now,” he said taking it from her mouth and placing it on the table.  She flexed her jaw which ached from being held open for so long.  She glared at the apple on the table and Astarion chuckled.  “Did it offend you?”

“It tasted disgusting,” she grumbled.  “I used to like apples.”

“Tastes can change,” Astarion said.  “Let’s get you more blood.”  He grabbed the servant’s bell and then she watched in confusion as he moved towards the servants’ entrance before ringing it.  She tensed as she saw the door open, but Astarion stood directly in the doorway, blocking the servant from view.  No, she realized, blocking her from view of the servant.  She felt tears burn her eyes which had begun to spill by the time Astarion approached her with a new goblet filled with blood.

“Darling?!” he exclaimed placing the blood on the table and taking her face in his hands.  “What’s wrong?”

“The s-servant was never in here?” she questioned.  “They never saw me like…they never saw me?”

Astarion gave her a soft look.  “No, darling, they never saw you,” he said.  “You are entitled to privacy.”  His expression changed to be sterner.  “When you behave.”  She heard the warning.  He’d put her on display if she didn’t please him.  She should feel angry and disgusted but she only felt relieved.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He stroked her cheek.  “Of course, pet,” he said and then handed her the goblet.  “Now drink this slowly.”  She listened to him and slowly sipped the blood from her goblet until it was all gone.  She felt her strength return to her and she placed the goblet on the table before glancing up at him.  He held his hand out to her and she took it and let him help her to her feet.  She grimaced when she felt his spend drip out of her and begin to slide down her thigh.  He laughed.  “Let’s get you cleaned up.”  He started to lead her towards the door but she held back.  He gave her a questioning look.

“You tore my dress,” she said.  She didn’t want to be paraded through the mansion naked. 

Astarion looked towards the torn fabric left in a pile on the floor and smirked.  “So I did,” he said.  She worried for a moment that he was going to make her leave the room naked but he then lifted his own shirt off his body and then helped her into it.  It covered her to mid-thigh.  She smiled at him and gave him a small kiss.  He stroked her cheek again and gave her a soft look.  “I’ll look into what events are happening in the Gate this weekend.  I’m sure I can find something that’s suitable for us to attend.” 

She felt her heart swell and she wrapped her arms around him.  “Thank you,” she murmured.

She felt him smile against her temple.  “This is was gratitude gets you, darling,” he said and then pulled pack and gave her a warning look.  “Don’t forget it.”  She shook her head quickly and followed him out of the room, all fuzzy feelings lost.  All she’d really learned is she would never get anything from him without a cost. 

[fio-renze]

May 20 - Day 2 Agony / Embrace

The very first thing Pyraelia did when they met in the Sunmote Tower attic was to wrap her in a nearly too snug hug. It had been a while since she’d been touched at all and the sudden contact alone made Fiorenze go a little rigid. 

Her too tall little sister, to her credit, noticed immediately and casually put some distance back between them, “Sorry. I missed you and I still feel bad about snapping at you and getting involved with the Xylaes and Garren thing.” 

She didn’t really want to hear about that right now, other things had come up in that sphere that had hurt her further, and there was ample merit in shoving it all under the proverbial emotional rug, “It’s okay.” 

Pyraelia gave her a disbelieving look that made her wonder how world weary she’d sounded when she lied. It had been a long day that had been part of a long week, housed within a long month, with an address in an even longer year. Fiorenze waved a hand, “We’re here to talk about Drenden. There’s no way it’s him, right? Nobody else on the Council seems suspicious?” 

“I think they’re just happy he’s back, but I’m sure some of them are. If you get that job with Director Mirth—” 

She cut her sister off and shook her head, “She’s working for the Magistry and tried to kill me, I think that’s off the table,” 

Pyraelia stared at her like she’d grown a second head, “What?” 

“It’s fine, don’t tell anyone, I’m still figuring out how I want to handle that and I need her to believe that I have absolutely no idea that I clocked it,” at some point she would seek vengeance for the sloppy attempt, but for now it had to be what it had to be. 

It rapidly became clear that her sister had no idea how to even respond to that, so Fiorenze adjusted the subject, “I think we need to get out of Dalaran. Full uproot. You and Keranna should be able to go back to Silvermoon alright, I don’t know about me but I can figure it out.” 

Pyraelia’s lavender tinted brow furrowed, “That’s… extreme. Over one mysterious Archmage?” 

Fiorenze rolled her lower lip between her teeth, “No, not just Drenden. Not because of Mirthstar, either. I don’t know if it’s divination magic or … some new nature thing, but I keep having this dream that I can’t quite hold onto. All I remember is feeling at home, and that when I wake up, where I’m waking up is wrong. That plus Drenden is making me anxious.”

“You’re hearing the Song,” Pyraelia sounded astonished as she summoned her notebook and quill out of the arcane wristpocket spell she kept it in, immediately flipping to a dog-eared page to begin jotting down notes, “When did it start? What times is it happening? Do you remember anything else about it?” 

It was Fiorenze’s turn to be taken aback, “The— it’s not a song, it’s— what are you talking about?” 

Her sister stared at her over the rim of her reading glasses, “The Radiant Song. It’s been affecting people all over, I’m on the working committee for the Violet Citadel to try and gather up any research we have in the city archives that might give us an idea or direction. Reports we have so far say that it’s usually accompanied by a calling, a feeling of peace and warmth, exquisite agony, the image of a burning half-sun…” 

Fiorenze immediately reached up and rubbed her face with both of her hands while taking the longest, most calming attempt at a deep breath she’d ever taken in her life. Why her? Why now? “Okay. Great. It’s got a name. I will make copies of my journal entries and have them brought to you tomorrow. Regardless, there is something about all of this that is making the hair on the back of my neck stand up and I feel like ignoring that is a terrible idea.” 

“I’ll talk to Keranna tomorrow and figure out what we want to do. Maybe it’s time to sell this place, I thought renovations would make it different but… I dunno, it still all feels like way too much for just me, you know?” Her sister smiled at her in the most honest and reassuring way. 

She didn’t know how to take it, really, “You believe me?” She wasn’t sure she would’ve believed it if Pyraelia had dropped that all in her lap without preamble. 

“Of course I do, you’re the most talented divination caster that I know. If, between all of this and everything else going on, something is telling you we need to leave? I believe you. I’m going to still work here, but that’s a teleportation spell away and not a trouble to do at all,” she waved her prosthetic hand at the tower attic’s steepled roof, “This is just a place. We can find a new one, especially if it makes you feel more comfortable.” 

Oh. 

Huh. 

It was her turn to hug her sister.

[17mujipens]

the dragon prince season 5 live thoughts:

the way Rayla constantly has the weight of the world and her parents and her personal relationship and then the world again on her shoulders is insane

Terry is bf goals, he really saw his girl having a meltdown and was like here are some nice textures. autism wins again

Callum really was like ‘my girl can commit any crime she wants :)’

that little bug elf person is so scary for no reason

loooove the dragon designs. like every time we see a dragon i’m fascinated

im so glad that in-universe people understand that Ezran is just a kid. like its heartbreaking but i’m glad it is discussed

side note but Corvus and Soren are def fucking and Corvus is not proud of it

i love how everyone is experiencing trauma and Rayla and Callum are in some second chance romance fluffy story

THEYRE SO CUTEEEE

VIREN mindscape

that scene between King Harrow and Viren genuinely has me hyperventilating

oh Harrow is that bird for sure for sure

oh to have a partner as dedicated to your success as Terry….

baby Soren is such a sweetie!!!!! im gonna cry

oh even more beautiful dragons

i totally forgot that Aarovos whispered something to the previous queen and now that intrigue is back

i feel like i gotta stop saying something every time Terry does/says something incredibly sweet because we’ll be here for so long

they keep reiterating how important family is to Viren and i mean it’s not a necessarily new characteristic but it’s more intense now. like the way morality doesn’t exist when it concerns them. before it was all for power and now its all for them and it doesn’t matter that Soren is on the ‘enemy’ side so it has me thinking that something is going to happen to one of his children that will. result in either Viren’s self sacrifice or his betrayal of Aarovos

Amaya and Janai are so so real

OMG baby Claudia!

Callum and Rayla’s frustration over being forbidden from going to Lux Area is hilarious, especially how Callum gave a freaking illustration shdjjdbdb

Aunt Amaya is a real one

oh i just knooow Karim’s storyline is going to be so so messy

also this made me think. like what the fuck do you even do after you get banished. like where do you go

Claudia and Viren sinking and saving each other is mirrored is just muah delicious

Soren running away terrified Viren but Claudia turning out just like him is scaring him even more

Claudia is my wet cat pathetic but also op character

some eye of sauron shit in Lux Aurea

the nerd elf is so cute and way too innocent for all this bullshit

Aunt Amaya is a real one pt. 2

omg. didn’t i say Karim’s story is going to be insane

i feel like Amaya’s monologue about love is going to be so heartbreaking in a few episodes

i’m usually a throwback montage hater but this one is so cute and sweet and it really highlights just how much they’ve grown and how far these two have come

Stella is a little kleptomaniac. sweetie.

Karim is constantly misunderstanding things because of his own biases. like how he thought the Janai wouldn’t fight because he came to the conclusion that the throne doesn’t matter to her because she didn’t lead like he wanted her to. and now he thinks that what Sol Regem needs is sight when what he actually needs is hope

the ‘i would do anything for you’ is sounding scary in the context of we just heard that that’s what started Viren’s descend into darkness

the library fight sequence is great, always fun to see their different fighting styles and how the cooperate

but it also gave me so much anxiety because Amaya is exactly the character that’s important and beloved enough that the writers might decide to make her infected so we all suffer

Dragon Queen to the rescue!!! oh how powerful dragons are…

why are u always leaving Bait behind :( he’s just a baby :(

NO I SPOKE TOO SOON!!! AMAYAAA

AND CORVUS TOO??????? agony and pain in Xadia

oh and i totally forgot about the Queen herself!!!!

oh Viren’s brain is doing a full reset

EZRAN YOU SWEETHEART <33333

i’m obsessed with Tina already. her design and her grumpy old woman attitude

oh Terry and Claudia you will always be famous to me

Akiyu and Lujanne would be besties

‘ when your mind is telling you to speak, instead you must listen’ LMAO

i know this Bloodhuntress is evil, they even say this out loud but… she’s kinda hot, yeah?

im really hoping that they find some way to cure the dragon queen. we don’t need to preteen kings

that boat set up is terrifying. and way too similar to Charon to be comfortable

bright hope cove…or scumport

this made me realise how much i just need at least a short story or something on Rayla years alone

this is such a fun setting. i have a soft spot for these types of towns in stories

i NEED the reaction pic someone already should have made of Ezran and Bait after Finnegran announced the ship’s price

omg pirate return!!

Claudia my girl who is worse <3

baby glow toads are 80% eye and 20% body lol

oh another return appearance!! i hope Nyx’ll bring some interpersonal drama

yeah, and she’s already pushing Callum’s buttons lol

damn, Soren is strong as hell, swimming in armour

oof i think she shouldn’t trust Miyana, wasn’t she Karim’s lover?

now that i see the Bloodhuntress in daylight, i have to say im not a fan of her colour scheme BUT powers are so cool visually, this whole fight sequence is amazing

Callum is just so powerful… i feel like we forget it sometimes but he is the first human mage to use any primal magic and the scale of the spells he’s using here is just insane

ITS A FUCKING HERMIT CRAB?????

oh god seeing Anaya in pain and despair is somehow worse than anyone else. and seeing her grief turn into anger muah chefs kiss

why is this y-7 show giving me anxiety. i literally started watching this to relax and think about interesting fantasy concepts what’s all this!!

oh shit this intro has Callum in it. shits about to hit the fan

i feel like that sea shanty has to have some deeper meaning. i hope it’s not that they’re going to drown our heroes

WHY IS THERE TORTURE IN HERE!!!!

don’t get me wrong i’m a tragedy enjoyer, i should know that by now but holy shit i just wasn’t emotionally prepared for all this

Soren, himbo of all time

Finnergrin is a great character to contrast our heroes actually and push them over

HES FREEZING HER BLOOD

oh Callum :( i love those moments where his anger boils over but i also love how they show how that scares him

Finnegrin is putting Rayla in mortal danger…i HOPE Callum goes feral

oh yeah this is some serious levelling up!!! Go Callum!!!

Soren, sweetheart :( he really saw this wood man get treated like trash, recognised it and at great personal cost helped him free himself :) using his daddy issues for the greater good

oh wow that greater good is apparently killing! slay

i feel like i gotta say something about Callum using dark magic to free himself but god that’s just plain heavy

oh Zubeia is still grieving and she’s just going on for her kid :(((

it’s day 30, damon what a way to up the already high stakes

Ezran was so sure that the prison being underwater would stump them but they figured it out so quick

my one thing is, this is open sea, if they’re even approximately at the same place, shouldn’t they have seen each other?

Aaravos really says every single sentence like it’s some dirty talk. like bro is saying something about borrowing consciousness or whatever with the same voice u usually hear say some shit like ‘oh you like that?’

finally Claudia and Callum and Ezran meeting! the way she truly believes that the ends justify the means and that all that dark magic hasn’t had its affect on her… wow

OUR CHILD? this whole monologue has me in hysterics

also because like…if he didn’t say anything, and was just like ‘kill this homunculus and your life will be restored’ Viren probably would have done it

i fear that ultimately, Viren will be too little too late for Claudia. because while he turned into who he is while an adult, Claudia was raised to be like this. so if he tries to change her, it’d be a betrayal to her

yeah, see Claudia is even more extreme than her father. because she has nothing else besides him, there is not status or prestige, or brother, or anyone else. it’s just her and him

fucking hell, i KNEW Miyana wasn’t to be trusted!

i think Karim will have a devastating win in s6, but it’ll be short lived, because like i said before he lacks critical thinking

what the hell is this mushroom mage and how soon can he help us retake Lux Aurea

what the fuck did he mean by ‘swallow’

Claudia is literally destroying herself in her quest. like we know that dark magic is detrimental to not only your physical but also your mental health, like we saw with Viren, and Claudia’s hair, but now literally her leg is gone. how far will she go?

side note: i think that because Viren reset, that’s why all his mentality and soul came back and that’s why his morals are so much stronger than we ever saw them?

OH THATS JUST A CRAZY INSANE CRUEL PLACE TO FINISH THE SEASON WOW

[eternal-star-rogue]

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“Wait wha-“ Zipper didn’t even get to finish that thought as Comms seemingly turned himself off and Zim’s body slumped over. Zipper and Ellie stared at him for a moment and then shared a look.

“Is he like… okayyyy??? He’s not dead right?” Ellie asked, nervously scratching the back of her neck in confusion.

“I don’t think he ever was ok to begin with, ah but no. He’s not dead. I’m not sure if he’s conscious or not though. One things for sure, he’s technically not a person. Zim probably didn’t have the time to make him into one, but I’m gonna change that reeeaaal quick.” Zipper said as she rolled the sleeves of her hoodie up. 

“Riiiight.” Ellie said, somewhat lost on what Zipper meant entirely. She started rifling through the case of medical supplies and pulled out a wound-disinfectant and some cotton balls and began cleaning Comms/Zim’s wounds. 

Zipper set herself to work, unbuckling Comms and laying Zim’s body gingerly down on the floor on his stomach. It was then she realized how much she’d grown in comparison to Zim. She was taller than him now, by at least a half foot or so. He wouldn’t like that very much….

Zipper shook her head and got out her tools and began carefully taking what was technically Comms themself apart piece by piece. Processors and cables and computer chips and wires and plugs and all sorts of little data crystals and usbs all strung together and held in place by a couple shabby outer-shell pieces of scrap metal, with… wait what the-

“Ellie holy fuck there’s a load bearing juice box in the middle of all this mess. If I pull it out he’s all just gonna fall to pieces.” Zipper said, pointing at the box with a mini extendable flashlight.

Ellie stopped stitching together the gash on the back of Comms/Zim’s head and glanced over. “Is it… is it even like doing anything other than holding stuff together?”

“No it’s not it’s- wait oh my god look. There’s a message written on it. It’s in Morse code.” Zipper exclaimed.

“Oh shit what’s it say?” Ellie said, going back to stitching Comms up, not taking her eye off her work for a second. 

Zipper squinted as she tried to read the juice box through the tangled mess and was silent for a few moments until she burst out laughing and cackling, almost scaring Ellie into messing up her stitches.

“BAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAHH, It says, ahahah, it say “pieces of shit all they’ve given me is expired prune juice, fuck them and fuck their juice.” Zipper had to put her tools down for a minute as she laughed. “Oh man, yup. Yeah that’s Zim alright.” 

Ellie rolled her eyes and shook her head, but she was smiling ever so slightly. It was good to hear Zipper laugh at least. 

“Alright, let’s get you fixed up Comms.” Zipper said, carefully removing the juice box and beginning to piece together a more solidly built “pak” for him. She worked tirelessly for hours, even pulling out a few components of her own pak that she didn’t desperately need just to help Comms be more efficient. She felt bad for the circumstances of his “birth” and the lack of personhood he had. Perhaps when this was all over, she could make a robotic body for him to inhabit, or perhaps Zim would clone an Irken body for him. Anything that is given even the resemblance of life, deserves to live it in full. That’s what Zipper believed anyways. 

Zipper sighed, wiping the sweat off her forehead and wiping her oily scuffed up hands on her hoodie. She turned the pain sensing inhibitor all the way down to 2%. Any higher and Comms would wake up screaming in agony from the amount of pain he’d be in. Especially with those wounds that were now very VERY slowly healing and regenerating. Thank goodness Ellie had used the dissolvable stitching wire, otherwise those sutures would fuse into Zim’s skin and he’d have to rip them out. 

“Ok now how do we uh… turn you back on… I actually didn’t see a button of any kind so I’m really hoping you have an automatic startup system.” Zipper said more to herself than anyone. 

[deceptive-daydreams]

California Dreamin’

Chapter Four - Leaky Faucet (18+ ONLY)

Modern!Eddie AU - In which Eddie travels to California searching for something more out of life.  And then he meets you.  

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3

Warnings: drinking, grief, mentions of deceased parent, dark thoughts, eventual smut, please let me know if I missed any

7K words

Eddie x reader, Friends to lovers, Slow burn

<;- Prev |

Note: oof this one was one where I was really doubting myself and even still am but I’m really just trying to push myself 

Masterlist

Fire slowly burning out, embers glowing in the blackened wood with chatter still alive among friends, the night remains young and full of promise and yet Eddie perches himself on the arm of one of the patio chairs–mask on and his guard up as if his chest didn’t ache with grief.  He is physically present but emotionally he is seven years old again, reliving the agony forced upon him that devastating Fall day just shy of a week from Thanksgiving, 2006.  Drinking is one of the only ways to numb the pain–to ease the sorrow that mistakingly overflowed from him just minutes ago at the dam.  Snatching up a beer from the cooler stationed next to the setup of nearly-gone food, he pops the cap off, rings clinking against the glass and consumes the whole thing in one go and then reaches for another.  It’s not that he wants to drown himself in beer or any liquor for that matter but it gets him to stop thinking, allows him to forget.  Or so he thinks but what does it matter if he doesn’t remember any of it at the time?

Eddie found it hard to admit to himself that he was unhappy, that he was merely surviving and not actually living.  He didn’t even guarantee himself that he would live past eighteen, nineteen at the most but he still wouldn’t acknowledge his misery even enduring those thoughts.  And here he was at twenty four, a full grown adult still just clinging onto his will to live.  He never had intent to act on anything but he did envision that something would happen to him early in life that would relieve him of all the trauma–all the anxiety and turmoil constantly clawing at his shoulders, leaving them constantly tense, muscles clenched in anticipation for the next tragedy.  

Despite the grim thoughts swallowing him endlessly day to day, no one would know how much he ached and how dark his mind got–always smiling, cracking jokes, helping others when he couldn’t help himself, the strong front he put on when the citizens of Hawkins would pick fights with him as if he were their own personal form of entertainment.  The humor he would use to deflect their comments used as his armor, painting him as an unbothered individual in the eyes of the average person when underneath it all was a seven year old boy hurting and yearning to feel his mother’s touch–just one last time if that's all he could have.  To feel loved one last time.

While Wayne did love Eddie as if he were his own, there was something so tender about the way mama would run her fingers through his curls, how she would assure him that everything’s okay when in fact it's not but she was good at making him believe.  The way she would look at him like he put the stars in the sky, her Eddie.  How she would do any and everything for him despite how little they had.  The way she would hold his hand at night and help coax him into a peaceful slumber after a nightmare.  All of it stuck with him every single day and he’d give up everything to be in her arms just one more goddamn time.  

Across the patio from his seat, Jonathan takes notice of the scene, a beer also dangling from his fingers that he’s now sitting on the arm of his chair while discreetly making his way over ensuring that he’s not drawing unwanted attention toward the metalhead devouring beers like they were water.  Concern laces Jonathan’s features as Eddie finishes off his third, chucking the glass bottle into the large trash can.  “Hey man, you good?” he asks carefully.  Eddie’s breath already reeks like a baseball game, eyes heavy and puffy.  “Never better.” he mumbles.  “You’re just downing those kinda fast–”  “--I’m fine.” Eddie smiles, a little too eager.  “Just trying to have a good time.” he goes on, his tone cool and convincing before asking “Do we have anything stronger?”.  Jonathan hesitates, not fully believing that this is just a night of casual drinking for him.  “Um–I guess–I dunno.  Jos might know.”  He’s decided that if Eddie asks Jos for something stronger she’ll step in and stop him since he doesn’t have any kind of authority to tell Eddie to stop, he’d only just met him weeks ago and he’d for sure get told off.  

Within the next half an hour or so you step back out onto the patio from the kitchen after freshening up, still disoriented from the previous interaction with Eddie.  One minute he was sobbing into your shoulder and the next he was closed off, his face lacking any sentiment.  At this point all you can gather is that his mom is a highly sensitive topic and it didn’t seem like a good idea to add salt to the wound by trying to understand it.  Everyone is doing the same as when you left, convening, eating, and drinking, happily engaging with each other.  Even Eddie, as if nothing had just happened.  He’s now merrily talking El’s ear off, although there is a slur in his words, missing some vowels every now and then.  El winces, you can only guess this is due to his breath since she turns her head ever so slightly with her nose scrunched but he doesn’t seem to notice, his gaze fixed on the remaining embers in the fire pit as they flicker.  

Deciding that maybe it isn’t your place to babysit Eddie, especially given his reaction to you earlier, you return to your seat next to Jonathan, throwing back someone’s remaining drink from a nearby cup.  Not usually a smart idea but you felt more than safe around everyone here.  He shifts his posture, stopping his chat with Argyle to turn to you, his face softening.  He’s always been caring and compassionate though you weren’t necessarily super close with him.  It was just in his nature.  “Hey, where’d you go?”  he asks curiously.  “Bathroom.” you answer.  “I had to splash some water on myself, it’s hot out here.” you further explain, fanning yourself with your hand.  It wasn’t a lie, you did make your way to the bathroom on the way back and it was very hot out despite the sun being gone hours ago, the air still dry leaving your skin sticky and sweaty, the baby hairs along your hairline almost glued to your face and your cheeks flushed the same as everyone else on the patio.  “Cool, cool.” he replies almost nervously, his palms gliding along his shorts, most likely to rid them of sweat.  Jonathan was laid back and had a ‘go with the flow’ attitude but he also could be awkward at times.  Conversations usually never got far with you unless they were with Jos, Marlene, or El, your brain shutting down and not able to spark up a new topic on the spot although sometimes it did happen with them and your thoughts just tapped out.  It's why you were the quiet one of the group, your specialty being observing others and reading their body language as they interacted, understanding details others would overlook.

“So–” Jonathan speaks up a little louder, inching forward in his chair and leaning his elbows on his knees.  You tear your eyes away from Will who is attempting to do a little braid in Jocelyn’s dark hair, messing up at the same point each time before starting over.  Jonathan’s eyes are looking into yours, a bit too intense for your liking.  “I have these tickets for the art festival down by the beach next week…did you–did you want to go–with me?” he asks.  Was he asking you to go with him or asking you to go…with him?  The atmosphere gets immensely awkward as you’ve never really hung out with him alone, always in a group so you’re coming to the conclusion that it's the latter.  Not offering an answer immediately, you look around you to buy some time only to see yet again, Eddie in his same spot as before scowling toward Jonathan’s way, more fierce this time than a few hours ago.  Again, Jonathan doesn’t seem to notice, his stare fixed on you, awaiting a response.  Eddie notices that you catch him in the act and relaxes his face, the ground now suddenly more interesting to him.  

“You know what, it’s stupid–” Jonathan begins before you answer him.  “No, no it’s not stupid!  I just–I’m still–are you asking, asking?  Or just ‘as a friend’ asking?” you stumble over your words.  You’d never thought of Jonathan like that before and even though he’s now possibly suggesting it, your feelings still remain the same–platonic.  And even if that were to change, you were just a year out of your previous relationship that lasted a whole seven years.  Seven years that you now felt were down the drain, where you felt you wasted someone else’s time.  It didn’t end in screaming and crying or a detrimental breakup like in the movies but it did take a toll on you since you went from seeing them and spending every day with them to completely no contact due to drifting apart.  You still didn’t feel ready to jump into anything, it was hard to trust anyone and you didn’t date just to date, you craved a connection.  One that you didn’t have with Jonathan.  

“I’m asking.” he clarifies, sucking a breath in.  Not reciprocating his feelings, you look kindly into his honey eyes.  “Jonathan, I’m sorry… I–I can’t–I’m not interested in you like that.  I think you’re really amazing but…” you trail off.  He nods in understanding.  “No, it’s okay.” he assures.  “No weirdness between us now, right?” a small smile graces his face.  you giggle at this, relieved that he seemed to be taking your rejection well.  “No weirdness.” you repeat.  And once again you catch Eddie out of the corner of your eye, glaring.  Did he hate Jonathan?  Did they not get along and you just weren’t around when it happened?  Something wasn’t adding up but then again, a lot of stuff didn’t add up when it came to Eddie despite hanging around him the last several weeks.

—

As the night went on with a few more drinks, you could only hope that Jonathan wouldn’t feel humiliated every time he saw you after he attempted to ask you out.  It’s all you could think about as everyone began piling into Marlene’s car, there being entirely too many people to fit but no one complaining despite the tight squeeze.  You all could’ve taken Eddie’s van to fit everyone however he wasn’t sure where he put his keys before getting wasted.  The fireworks were at their peak so it was prime time to catch as many as possible at the top of the hill that overlooked the neighborhood as well as the city.  “Bro, your ass is in my face!” Argyle shouts, trying to push Will away but not succeeding due to the amount of bodies in the backseat as Will crawled over him.  “There’s not exactly enough room for six people in the backseat of a sedan so pardon my ass!” Will bites back.  No one was worried about getting in trouble for fitting so many people in the car since it was only a short drive up the hill.

Jos is situated in the front seat while Jonathan, Argyle, El with Will on her lap, and yourself fill up the back.  Eddie is about to make the decision to hop into the back and just occupy the trunk right behind the seats when he starts looking green.  “Mm’ jus gon-gonna, scuse m…” he tries to squeeze in between you and El so he can make his way over the seat, the smell of liquor and a tinge of his cologne apparent.  “Dude, I think you’re looking a little pale.” Jos points out.  He shakes his head, wild head of hair bouncing with the movement.  “M’ okay, m’ goooood.” he loses his balance, the top half of his body falling into your lap and his head on Will’s while his lengthy legs hang out of the car.  “Oh–shit.” he mumbles, using his hands to push himself up, momentarily landing on your thigh before he pushes off, running off to one of the bushes in the front yard before spewing the contents of his stomach.  “I knew he was gonna blow!” Argyle blurts out using his hands to gesture dramatically, everyone else twisting their face in disgust.  “He was shootin’ em back like some kind of cowboy.”  

Marlene starts opening her door to attend to him.  “I better go make sure he’s okay, is anyone else sober?  I can stay here while you guys go–”  Before she can finish you’re out of the car along with Jos, rushing to his side as he continues vomiting.  Jos is grabbing his hair and keeping it out of his face while you assist in keeping him from falling over into his own barf.  “We got him, we’ll meet you up there!”  Jos says.  Marlene hesitates before nodding and shutting her door and pulling out of the driveway.  “Fuck.” Eddie whispers, a string of drool hanging from his parted lips.  “You good?” Jos asks, using a scrunchy to secure most of his hair in a quick low bun.  “So good.” sarcasm drips from his tone.  “Let's get you to the garage to sit down.” you suggest, Jos nods in agreement as you both hook an arm around his at each side, walking him toward the house while he stumbles over his feet.  You help him slip off his leather jacket, the sleeve smeared with vomit from when he wiped his mouth.  Grimacing at the smell, you drape the jacket over one of the wooden stools cautiously, making a mental note to clean it off later.  

Eddie flops onto the couch, his arms limply falling with him, head resting back against the cushion, eyes closed while he rips the scrunchy out of his hair and tosses it aside.  Jos tosses him a water, the bottle colliding with his stomach and a grunt leaving his lips as he clutches the bottle in his hand.  “You better drink that whole thing by the time I get back.” she warns with a stern finger.  “Where are you going?” you question, sitting on the coffee table across from him.  Jos points to the door leading into the house.  “Gotta find a barf bucket just in case and some aspirin or something cause I just know he has a rough morning ahead of him.  Freakin’ idiot.” she mutters the last part under her breath as she heads inside, leaving you to watch Eddie.  The way his breathing evens out signifies that he’s fallen asleep, or so you think.  Eyes shooting open and a grin spreading across his face, his heavy lidded gaze reaches your face.  “Peach.” he addresses you in a hushed tone.  “Eddie.” you give him a soft smile back and he swears it's sweeter than honey, could give him cavities if he indulged too much.  “Sry bout’ the barf, s’ nasty s’ hell.” he slurs, clearly still intoxicated.  He wears a pretty pout on his lips, pretty enough to stare at all night if you could.  “That’s okay, it happens to us all every once in a while.” you sympathize, recalling the nights you’d been in the same boat, stomach empty and that foul taste lingering on your tongue while you try to convince your brain the room isn’t actually spinning.  “Jos and I got you though, we’ll get you settled and into bed.”  you promise.  His pout deepens as he sits up slightly, a hand running through his bangs, causing them to stick straight up.  Hiding a chuckle, you grab the water from his hand, he makes no effort to fight you on it as you twist the cap off and hand it back to him.  “You heard Jos.” you remind him, encouraging him to hydrate.  

Gulping down some water to satisfy you and Jocelyn, he then  continues talking.  “Wan know a s-ecret?” he hiccups.  Intrigued, you lean forward with your chin in your hand, resting your elbows atop your knees.  “What’s your secret?”  There’s a mischievous glint behind his eyes, a boyish taunt.  Reaching in between the couch cushions, he pulls out a bottle of Jack he had hidden earlier, presenting it to you as if he’d found treasure.  “Taaaadaaaaa!” He sings as your eyes widen.  While you’re not exactly one hundred percent sober either, you are definitely not at the level he is at right now and know better than to let him have more.  “Eddie, no—” You attempt to snatch the bottle from him but even in his drunken state, he’s quicker than you as he opens it and tilts his head back, chugging the amber whisky as if it doesn’t burn his throat.  You’re able to grab hold of it and snatch it away, the liquid sloshing around, some getting on his shirt while some manages to get on your shorts.  “C’monnnn, thought we’re all gon’ get fucked up nyway.” Eddie whines.  You cap the whisky, open one of the storage cabinets along the wall and slide it onto the shelf for safe keeping.  “I think you’re beyond fucked up, sorry to say.” you tell him.  Where is Jos?  You wonder, you’re not sure you can babysit much longer before he musters up some energy and goes rogue.  At least that’s been your experience with Argyle previously and sometimes even Will.  

With a little more whisky freshly in his system, Eddie is far from sober but he’s at least not running around making it difficult for you like Will would have, he would’ve been trying to climb the roof by now to ‘star gaze’.  Eddie just sits, a dazed and dopey look on his face, his eyes twinkly and glassy.  “Needa call Wayne.” He suddenly sits up searching for his phone, shifting from his left back pocket to his right a few times before finally finding it in his front pocket.  “Wait wait wait.” You urgently grab the phone from him, not wanting him to call someone who he may not otherwise while not intoxicated.  Eddie lets himself fall into the couch cushions in defeat, his face smushed against the fabric as he mumbles through a squished cheek “Needa talk t’ Wayne, need Wayne now.”  He sounds much like a child.  “Gotta talk w’ m’ uncle.”  Now feeling bad since the poor boy  just wants to speak with his uncle, which seems innocent enough, you offer him the phone which he happily grabs, now sitting up again as he calls his uncle.

The dial tone rings a few times before a husky voice answers, Eddie puts it on speaker and rests the phone on his stomach while he lays across the couch, face up with his hands crossed on his chest as if he were in a therapy session.  “Boy, it is the middle of the night, I was sleepin’, this better be good.”  the gruff voice says irritably.  Eddie smirks and lets the silence linger for a moment.  “Ed, quit playin’ around.” Wayne demands.  “Heyyy Wayyyyne.” Eddie responds before going on.  “Wayne, Wayne, m’ here w’ my friend…” he mentions you, saying your name like a giddy teenager.  “We’re jst hangin’ out, hey—I miss you, Wayyyne.” he draws out.  A deep sigh is heard on the other line.  “Kid, I miss you too, but please don’t tell me you just woke me up in the middle of the night because you’re drunk—“  “Wayne—“  “Ed, we talked bout’ this.” he sounds disappointed and you feel like you should excuse yourself but you stay.  “I know—I know.  S’ Fourth of July though.” Eddie counters.  Another silence takes over until Wayne speaks up again, a hesitance in his tone at first.  “Someone…did someone mention your mama?  Or your dad?  That how this happened?” he asks.  Now you really feel like you should leave, beginning to stand up from your spot on top of the coffee table except on your way you feel a hand gently grab your wrist and when you look down you see Eddie looking up at you as he still lays on the couch, he could almost pass as a helpless child with the way he looks up at you, big puppy dog eyes burning into you as he silently begs you to stay.  

You oblige and take your seat on the coffee table again.  It’s quiet for another moment.  “Ed?” Wayne pushes.  You try to avoid eye contact with Eddie but you can’t help it when his are welling up with tears that he’s desperately trying to hold back, hickory colored irises becoming wet and vulnerable.  “Yeah.” he whispers, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Miss her.” is all he says, his voice going hoarse as he works to keep his composure.  You grasp onto the fact that his uncle just knew exactly what happened and why within seconds.  “I know, kid.  Me too.  Can’t keep doin’ this every time though, y’know that.  You’re better n’ that.” Wayne expresses as gently as possible.  “Mmhmm.” Eddie mumbles, now biting his nails.  Jos jogs back into the garage, a mop bucket, a bottle of Tylenol in her hands, and water.  She’s out of breath as she explains.  “Couldn’t find a bucket to save my life, then couldn’t find painkillers either but here they are, I got them.”  her chest is heaving as if she’d gone up several flights of stairs.  “M’ gonna go Wayne, call you morrow’.” Eddie abruptly ends the call as Wayne’s ‘goodnight’ gets cut off.  “Jos!!” He greets as if he hadn’t just been on the brink of tears.

Jos sets the bucket next to the couch and opens the bottle of painkillers, rattling it until one lands in her palm, placing it on the table next to a new water bottle.  Noticing the still half full water bottle nearly tucked into the couch from all of Eddie’s movements, she begins to scold him.  “What did I say?  You need to drink water, dude!” her dark chocolate irises douse him with disappointment, much like a parent reprimanding their child.  Her stare moves over to you with the same intensity.  “And you were supposed to make sure he drank it!” she complains, throwing her arms in the air as if she’s given up.  “Stop that!  Peach din’t do nything.” Eddie’s bottom lip juts out, now sitting upright, his body still slouching into the couch.  “I tried.” you shrug, releasing an exhale while claiming a seat a few feet away from Eddie on the couch this time.  Two exhausted adults sit before Jocelyn, eyebags protruding, and skin with a thin sheen of sweat.  The garage didn’t have any air conditioning to combat it.  

Jos contemplates for a moment, she’s probably the tiniest bit tipsy but still coherent.  “I was going to go meet everyone for fireworks but you guys seem like you’re done.” she explains while grabbing Eddie’s half drinken water bottle, holding it out to him.  Reluctantly he takes it, swallowing some to please his friend.  “I can stay if you’re too tired.” Jos offers, tossing a nearby cotton blanket over his legs, looking to you for an answer.  This night had been a lot compared to previous years–with Eddie’s emotions bouncing around like a ping pong ball and Jonathan attempting to ask you out.  Body feeling sluggish and unwilling to move, you decide you can always catch some fireworks from the front yard if you really wanted to.  “I’ll stay here, watch this one and make sure he doesn’t get into anything else, you go have fun.” you tell her, sinking further into the cushions, cheek resting along the back of the couch.  She gives you a kind closed mouthed smile before ruffling Eddie’s hair, a groan of protest rumbling from his chest.  “Don’t cause any problems for Peach here while I’m gone, okay?”

–

“Go fish.” Eddie lamely states with his cards held haphazardly in one hand, the other twirling one his curls around his fingers.  His cheek is pressed into the back of the couch, lip puckered due to the position.  The two of you have your legs criss crossed as if in kindergarten and a few piles of cards are scattered in between you.  “Damn.” you sigh, grabbing a new card shuffling your acquired deck around.  “What about five.” he hopes, glancing from his cards to you.  “Go fish.” a bored expression rests along your features.  “Game fuckin’ sucks.” he lays his cards on the couch in front of him, signaling to you that he no longer wants to play and you agree by doing the same.  The alcohol seems to be having less of an effect on him, not slurring his words as much and a sleepy appearance taking over his face.  “Tonight fuckin’ sucks.” he adds under his breath.  You can’t help but feel hurt at first, thinking you had something to do with it but quickly remember earlier when the stories about Roxy had caused his emotional turmoil.  

“M’ sorry.” mumbling quietly, you avoid eye contact–unsure of how to comfort him.  A sympathetic glow fills his eyes.  “Not your fault.” he speaks quietly, lips barely moving.  “I lash out.  S’ what I do.  Sorry you had to be around for it.”  he apologizes with a shrug of his shoulders, his stare moving to the ceiling above.  He looks like a mess in the most beautiful way possible.  Fluorescent light from above highlights his red and still puffy eyes, his curls frizzy and out of place due to his hands running through them one too many times, and his pink tinted face from all of the alcohol consumed, all so perfectly imperfect.  A few moments pass until you speak up again.  “I don’t mind.”  Your admission catches him off guard, his head tilting down to lock his gaze with yours.  His expression is puzzled, eyebrows raised in disbelief.  You have no other words to offer, just a gentle upturn of your lips.  

A sudden deafening boom sounds from outside, causing you to jolt forward and cover your ears.  Eddie remains still, his head only turning in the direction of the sound.  A firework being shot off from one of the nearby streets.  Not too long after another bang echos.  Hopping off the couch and making your way out of the garage and into the front yard, you catch a glimpse of a cobalt blue streaking the sky as the explosive dissipates in the air, Eddie not far behind while you both turn your attention upwards.  The driveway suddenly looks inviting, a VIP seat to the show above you as you both wander over and take a place in the dirt not caring that it would cling to your clothes.  

Not another word is spoken, a silent agreement between you that nothing further is necessary.  You didn’t know it yet but you had chipped at the first piece of the ginormous wall Eddie had built around himself.  

—

In the days following the fourth, work had gotten more demanding and you found yourself at home most of the week trying to keep up.  Housework piled up and it just felt useless to even begin a task, exhaustion draining any energy you had after work.  Bills were starting to occupy your mind more and more and on top of it all the kitchen sink just had to give out and drench you as the faucet gushed water.  All you wanted was to wash your hands, not rack up another plumbing bill.  As if on queue, Jos sauntered in, a pile of your mail in hand as she read through the coupons the local businesses sent out monthly.  “Oh!  We have to try this pla—“ she stops, dropping the mail onto the counter and processing that you had just been violated by the sink before breaking out in laughter.  Frowning, you squat down and search desperately under the sink for the knob to turn the water off.  “Not funny, the plumbing in this house sucks.” you murmur into the cabinet of cleaning supplies, struggling to turn the knob, water still creating a fountain on the tile.  “I can’t—turn it—off!” You manage to yank the knob from its place, now leaving you with a broken faucet spewing water across the kitchen and no way to shut it off.  “Shit.” You whisper, letting yourself fall backwards to then sit on the floor in defeat.  

Jos cracks her knuckles dramatically and stretches her arms above her head before cautiously making her way next to you.  “Let me try.” She says in confidence.  You can only roll your eyes, she’s never been that handy as much as she likes to think she is.  Her talents only extended to smacking her palm into whatever household object was broken until it ‘worked’ again.  “Jos—hitting it is NOT gonna work—“  “How do you know?!  I don’t see you offering any other ideas.” She bangs her fist against the pipe, only making you more nervous that you'll then have to worry about a broken pipe in addition to the faucet and the knob.  Plucking the knob out of your grasp, she starts forcefully shoving it in place, metal clanking against metal.  “Stop, you’re going to break it more!” You’re yanking at her arm, attempting to take back the object before more damage can be done.  “Jos, you don’t even know what you’re doing!” You bring your fingers to your temples in aggravation, a groan slipping from your mouth.  

Frustration evident in her tone, Jos turns to glance at you.  “You’re gonna need to find someone who knows what they’re doing.”  At this, a deep sigh flows through your body, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose.  “I know.  That’s why I said ‘stop’.” You enunciate the last word.  “I’ll call Eddie then.” She continues, unbothered as if she didn’t almost break your pipes with her bare hands.  “No, what if he makes it worse like you almost did! “ you protest, face feeling hot.  “Peach, you underestimate our dear Edward.  He’s not just good at fixing cars, he’s good at fixing almost anything.” She explains, jumping up to grab her phone from the counter.  “He’s been fixing shit around the house all summer.  Our dryer finally doesn’t sound like a bunch of dying cats anymore.”  

Your memory flashes back to when you’d walked into Jos’s house one afternoon and Eddie had in fact been cursing at the dryer as he used a screwdriver to pry something off from the back of it, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth in concentration.  You figured he didn’t know what he was doing with the way he was using various tools to bang on the dryer

With a huff you nod in agreement as you push yourself to stand from the floor.  Jos dials up Eddie, putting the phone on speaker as the tone echoes throughout the room.  A few rings in and a crackle is heard, as if the phone on the other end was being tossed around before his voice chimes in.  “What’s up?” Eddie asks, commotion in the background most likely from the auto shop.  “So, Peach has a leak.” Jos starts off.  Your face twists at the way she words it, giving her shoulder a small shove.  “Mhmm.” Eddie hums, probably concentrating on a car at work as he listens.  “Could you come take a look at it…like right after work before this kitchen floods?” Jos pleads.  “For you?  Absolutely not—.” He replies, a loud drill sounding over the line.  “Ed, stop fucking around, there’s water everywhere.” Jos explains while gesturing to the mess as if he could see her.  “For Peach?” He continues as if he wasn’t interrupted.  “Anything.” He finishes, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.  Throughout the summer he was always like this with you, flirty but in a friendly kind of way.  He had a different dynamic with everyone.  With Jos he was a playful asshole, Jonathan and Argyle he was boyish and loud, with Will he was very attentive, and with El he was slightly dickish but friendly.

“Thank you, Eddie.” You try to hide your smile but Jos immediately notices.  “Uh huh, just put a bucket or some shit under it til’ I get there.” He replies, you can tell he’s occupied with another task as he talks.  “Okay, I’ll text you the garage code, you can just let yourself in.” You say while scrambling to find something, anything to collect the water in the meantime, opting for a giant punch bowl.  Jos hangs up instantly and raises her brow with her arms crossed.  Hurrying to wipe up the surrounding water with some beat up dish rags, you look at her, annoyed that she isn’t at least helping and just standing there.  “What?”  Your tone is irritated, the rags becoming sopping wet within seconds and Jos still not moving.  She leans against the counter, arms still crossed and brow still raised at you.  You widen your eyes at her as if to scream ‘what the hell are you looking at!?’.  “Are you and Eddie a thing?” She responds curiously, a spark in her eyes.  Scoffing, you scoop the soggy rags up and toss them into the sink.  “Jos if we were a thing I think you’d know.” You sass her.  Her arms raise up in defense, her expression giving away that she doesn’t fully believe you but she’ll let it go.  “Okay, okay.  Just be careful if anything does happen.  You were a wreck with this last one.” She advises.  “The last one was a completely different story.  We were straight out of high school and kept it going for seven years.” You defend.  “It’s not exactly something you come out of bright and happy.” You remind her.

Jos sighs, her shoulders rolling back before continuing.  “I know…I know.  Just—for both of your sakes…please don’t rush yourselves.  If you do end up making a move or god forbid he stops being a pussy and does something.” Her voice is now gentle and you can gather that she’s just trying to look out for you.  “Well, that’s not what’s happening so you don’t need to worry.  Pretty sure he just entertains conversation with me cause I happen to be there.” You sit yourself on the countertop, self depreciation dripping from your words.  Jos joins you and plops herself next to you on the counter.  “Am I not recalling correctly that he’s the one who has everyone calling you Peach?”  She questions searching for eye contact but not finding it as you focus on the refrigerator magnets across the kitchen.  “Did my eyes deceive me this whole summer?  The way you guys are attached like puppies to each other?  How you always end up hanging out in some way or another?”  Her explanations bring clarity but self doubt still overshadows your thought process.  Although so many words run through your mind at the moment, all you can do is shrug.  “Look, I know you have trouble talking about relationship stuff but I am here.  And I would love to see stupid ass Eddie and lil’ Peach together.  Think it could be good for you.” She smiles, poking your side which makes you squirm away from her with a giggle.  Grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze, you thank her.  She’d always been someone to come through for you in your most uncertain times.

—

It was nearing the evening, around six o’clock and Jocelyn had left a few hours ago to catch up on some studying for her business course.  A pot of pasta with tomato sauce sat on the stove while you finished off a bowl at your seat from the stool at the counter.  You’d been emptying the punch bowl continuously filling with water and hadn’t left the kitchen all day.  It was almost tranquil with the trickling water however the fact that your sink was broken and was causing the sound ruined it.  

The sound of the door connected to the garage just off the kitchen startles you, Eddie stepping in with a tool box in hand.  His navy blue coveralls are hanging at his waist, the sleeves tied to keep them in place and he’s wearing a white tank top, his arms on display along with his various tattoos.  Grease covers his hands and there’s a smudge on his cheek from where he’d wiped some sweat away.  His hair is frizzy from being tied back in the shop all day, now flowing freely and wild.  

“Hey, Peach!” He greets with his dimpled smile.  Before you can greet him back he takes notice of the unintentional fountain originating from the faucet.  “Well, that’s fucked.” He expresses with a point of his finger.  “No shit, Eddie.” You look up to the ceiling, fed up with the bullshit that is today.  Stepping carefully around the punch bowl and crouching down in front of the cabinet underneath the sink, he starts looking around for the problem.  “Don’t worry, daddy’s gotcha.” He somewhat sings while picking up the knob that had broken off hours earlier.  “You see the issue is that this fuckin’ thing broke off—“  “Eddie.” You deadpan.  He turns his head around to where you’re patiently sitting at the counter, tapping your fork against the bowl in front of you.  “Tough crowd tonight.  Peach, you usually laugh at my jokes!” He whines while turning back to reattach the knob to its designated spot.  “It’s been a rough day.  Sorry.” You sigh while resting your head on the cool countertop.  “Don’t be sorry, just tell me my jokes are shitty.” He says while hammering the knob back into place.  “Eddie!” You groan, dragging your hands down your face.  “Okay, okay, I’ll leave you alone.” You can hear the smile in his voice.  He grunts while turning the knob and the water finally stops leaking into the kitchen.  “Oh thank god.” You mumble in relief while still covering your face with your hands.  

Eddie stands up to mess with the faucet, jiggling it around before letting a breath out.  “You want the good news or the bad news first?” He asks timidly.  “What do you—why is there good news and bad news?” You whimper out of frustration.  “Good news.  Or bad news.” He reiterates.  Another groan leaves your lips as you answer.  “Bad.”  He spins around to meet your gaze, chocolatey eyes making you feel all gooey inside.  “You’re gonna need a new faucet.” He states, stretching his arm across his chest to relieve some tension in his sore muscles.  You let out a puff of air with a nod.  “But…” he proceeds.  “The good news is that I can go get one tomorrow and have this shit lookin’ brand new.” He grins, sending a small wink your way.  “Eddie you really don’t have to—“  “—We’re gonna skip the whole ‘you don’t have to’, ‘oh but I insist’ spiel and I’m just gonna do it regardless of what you say, kay?” He mimicked your voice and then his in a deeper register as he talked, causing you to laugh.  He was always so unserious and it was refreshing in a world that always demanded business now, fun later.  

“Okay.” You speak softly.  Eddie was hard to say no to, he was like a giant puppy full of energy and you could never tell him no, not to those deep dimples or giant doe eyes, or even the little row of freckles scattered along his nose that came to be over the summer.  

“So how much should I pay you?” You ask innocently.  Setting his toolbox on the counter, he glances over your face, pupils dilating.  “How about…” he starts, resting his elbow on the counter and then his chin in his palm.  “You make me some of that pasta tomorrow and we call it good.” His eyelids are heavy, a lazy smile playing on his lips.  He’s captivating and his stare feels like a warm hug, fresh baked cookies on a chilly fall day, Christmas, even.  “I can do that.” You whisper with a fond expression gracing your face.  

Shifting to stand up from your stool, the metal legs scraping against the tile, you go to set your bowl in the sink to wash at a later time, either when you have the energy to take it to the bathroom sink or when the faucet is fixed tomorrow.  When you turn around to move your attention back to Eddie, he’s closer than you expected, surprising you.  “Sorry.” He says breathily.  Nervous, you avert your eyes to the crack in the tile between you.  “That’s okay.” You mutter.  When you glance back up to him he’s focused on your face, contemplating something silently.  “You—you’ve got a little…” he points to his own lip as you furrow a brow before realizing and going to wipe away any remaining pasta sauce from your mouth.  “No—it’s right—can I?” He asks, grabbing a paper towel from the roll on the counter.  Nodding, you give him permission and he ever so carefully goes to dab the napkin at your bottom lip in the corner.  As if in slow motion, he brings his grease stained hand to gently cradle your jaw as he cleans off the sauce.  Your heartbeat escalates dramatically and you swear you can feel your blood get hotter as it courses through your veins.  He’s touching me, he’s touching me, you think to yourself.  Not just grazing my shoulder with his hand as he passes by, actually touching me with purpose, you think.  But that thought quickly disappears, he’s literally just wiping the pasta sauce off of your face that you were too dumb to notice.  Suddenly eyes lock and in that moment time stills, it feels like forever.  You can hear your heartbeat in your own ears, hands trembling and breath hitching.  You swear his thumb affectionately grazes your cheek even if just for a millisecond.  

And then—he was gone.  

~end~

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Blurb #8

I'm going to try to share 70 blurbs from my WIPs and unfinished fics to celebrate reaching 70 posted fics! To help with this endeavor, please feel free to send me a word or a fandom you know I write for, and I'll share the blurb. IDK if I'll get 70 prompts, but let's try it! Send as many as you want!

It hurt. It hurt every waking moment of his pitiful existence. The salves were supposed to be helping, that’s what the healers had said. “It’ll get better once the fever breaks.” A woman said. “The scaring shouldn’t be too bad.” Said a man. “It’ll be okay,” said someone that sounded like Uncle Iroh. But the horrible truth was, he would never be the same. Honor lost, skin gone, pain, hate, anger… It was so much. So much to bear. Even for a full grown man, but he was just 13. 13 and a prince of the most powerful man in the world. This shouldn’t have happened to him. Hours went by, too tired to stay awake, but in too much pain to rest. So he laid there in agony, waiting for the fever to break or the infection to take him. Whatever happened first. Then, after hours, days maybe, he opened his eye, and asked for water. It was so cold. So soothing. So everything these last few days hadn’t been. He gulped it down, wanted to just dive in it. But the cup was taken away, and he was pushed back down to lay. Then there was silence, but only for a moment, until the door opened and closed again. The temperature in the room rose, evaporating his sweat. Zuko opened his eye again, seeing the light glint off of a crown. The Fire Lord’s crown. “I’m disappointed in you, Prince Zuko.” It was like being burned all over again. “You failed the very simple instructions given you, time and time again. You spoke out of turn, and you refused to fight in the Agni Kai.” “I’m sorry…” Zuko whispered. And he meant it. He truly was sorry. He’d never act with a free spirit ever again. “Sorry doesn’t restore honor. You humiliated me. You dishonored you’re family, your nation, everything. Now what will you do to make up for it?” What could he offer? Zuko has nothing of his own to give. He was just a boy with no accomplishments. What could he possibly do. “Anything…” he whispered. “I’ll do anything.” Ozai gave the smallest twitch of a smile. “The only thing that stands in the way of our nation’s greatest achievement is the Avatar, master of all four elements. He must be out there somewhere. Either an old water bender, or an even older air bender. Capture him, or convince him to join us, and I’ll restore your honor.” “Thank you…father…” “But until that day, you are banished. I’ll grant you the rest of the week to heal, and then you must leave, and never return without the Avatar.” “But..how do find him…?” Ozai stood. “That is not my concern.” “Thank you for coming to see me…” “It is beneath me to visit the infirmary. Count it lucky that I gave you this mission in person. The next time I see you, you better have the Avatar.” “Yes, My King…” The door shut behind him.