#i can't tell which week this is from fuck

[kinthulou]

This is all so so so true! I have had so many friends be too shy or anxious to share their writing with me because I'd shared mine first, and I'm always having to tell them that the only reason I'm so good at the writing thing? It's because I've been doing it since I was old enough to hold a pencil. Stories have been my Autistic Special Interest (TM) since I learned to read when I was two years old. All I've got that my friends don't is time and practice and I would never ever judge them for just starting out. I want to see their stories! I want them to feel encouraged and motivated to keep practicing! It's an art form!

And this is a shyness that I know super well from a different art form. My entire immediate family is incredibly talented in the music sphere. And I do mean talented--my youngest sib had no music lessons whatsoever and taught themself how to play piano and violin incredibly quickly. Middle sib picked up guitar as a teen like it was nothing. The mother unit was a stellar soprano in church choir, and the father unit, who was raised by a music teacher and so had a lot of encouragement and probably all the lessons he wanted, is not only a fantastic singer but can pick up any instrument for the first time and within ten minutes have figured out how to get music out of it. I had lessons galore. Lots of instruments. Choirs to join. All the encouragement. Almost none of it stuck. I was awful at music. Couldn't sight read music to save my life--and still can't, turns out I had an undiagnosed-at-the-time learning disability that impacts that skill--couldn't figure out my way around a string instrument, and my singing voice was so terrible I was constantly being told to stop.

Fast forward to last night, when I was listening back through a recording of a song I'd learned on ukulele last week. There were plenty of flaws in my performance, but when I listened to the vocal warm-up, in which I just sang the song a cappella to make sure my voice was good to go and I didn't need to refresh on the melody?

Fucking blew me away. You guys? Somewhere along the way I got good at singing? Like actually, legit, super pleasant to listen to, would buy an album of this stuff if it wasn't MY OWN VOICE, that kind of good????? What????? My music skills are catching up to my writing skills! I have more talent in writing than music, which is why there was a gap between getting good at writing and starting to get good at the music, but like. Just keep at it, everyone. It's just practice. Once day you'll look at your art, whatever its form, and be blown away by how far you've come. You just have to be willing to let go of perfection and give yourself the chance to try!

So earlier in art class today, someone drew a characters hands in their pockets and mentioned that hands are really like the ultimate end boss of art, and most of us wholeheartedly agreed. So then, our teacher went ahead and free handed like a handful of hands on the board, earning a woah from a couple of students. So the one from earlier mentioned how it barely took the teacher ten seconds to do what I can’t do in three hours. And you know what he responded?

“It didn’t take me ten seconds, it took me forty years.”

And you know, that stuck with me somehow. Because yeah. Drawing a hand didn’t take him fourth years. But learning and practicing to draw a hand in ten seconds did. And I think there’s something to learn there but it’s so warm and my brain is fried so I can’t formulate the actual morale of the lesson.

[imjustdreamingig]

Isn't that sweet, I guess so

Part 1, Part 2

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret's out, Steve's proud of himself, and you can't seem to keep your mouth shut

A/N: chat there is no way I put out 2 fic in the past week, this has never happened to me before! yay everyone cheer. again, i have no idea where this story is going how far im gonna go, i def want to try writing other stuff and idk if this is the best place to put and end to whatever this series is but again, we shall see i guess. thank you all so much on the love on my last two works you have no idea what that means to me! please please PLEASE send me asks or comment what you'd like me to write next or if you want a pt4 i need help people

warnings: sfw, swearing, fluff, idiots who like each other

Facing your fears is tough. No matter what it is, no one would actually choose putting themselves through a situation in which they know would cause them extreme distress. For some that may be going on a rollercoaster, interacting with a clown, going into a dark forrest alone, it could even be making a phone call by yourself to schedule a doctor's appointment (which is a valid fear to have, thank you very much.)

And here you were, facing your fears: being sat in your living room with Steve Harrington 3 feet away from you for an extended period of time. It's only been about 15 minutes, where no talking has happened since minute two.

You hope you can get to 30 minutes without fainting.

As you attempted to focus on the book in front of you, Jane Austen's words, who usually kept your focused for hours on end, were not being absorbed by you in the slightest. How could they, when Steve fucking Harrington was in your house.

Steve is the type of guy who Jane Austen would write about, you thought, eyes flickering towards him as he hunched over his book, face crinkled in concentration, trying to understand said author's musings.

The swoop of his hair, the two moles near his neck, his deep, beautiful, chocolate eyes, his gorgeous smile, and my god those arms? Yep, Jane would be absolutely obsessed with him.

"God, why did I agree to do this book?" You are snapped out of your daze at Steve's words. "What do you mean?", you replied. He gave you a look that can only be described as "seriously?"

"I mean, that I can barley understand what any of these characters are saying half the time, and honestly, it's a bit boring. I thought you would have better book recommendations," he said, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face.

A scoff left your mouth before you could stop it. "Excuse me, are you actually hating on Pride and Prejudice, the best romance story of all time, the romance story, period." You leaned over and snatched his book. "I mean, come on! You are literally only 6 pages in, you can't just judge it that quickly, you haven't even gotten to the good parts yet!", you exclaim.

Steve watched you with an amused look on his face, unbeknownst to you, who kept rambling on, trying to convince Steve this book was worth continuing.

"— and Elizabeth, she is just funny, like actually hilarious. There is one part where she basically tells someone that I'd rather not be wasting my air talking to someone like you, like please, how did she even come up with that? Also, I'm just obsessed with this proper English style of speaking, or writing I guess, because they're basically talking shit but covering it up with fancy words! And when—"

"You talk a lot, don't you?"

You look up from the book and towards Steve, eyes widening slightly, realizing you had indeed been talking too much.

"One of my greatest faults, some may say, and by faults I mean my mom, but she only tells me this when we're arguing, so..." You glance away from Steve's face for a little reprieve. God, he's so hot.

"Well, like a good partner," you continue. "I'm trying to help you get some of this project done, and maybe if Robin were here, she could've helped," you defended yourself, crossing your arms, "which I'm still confused about, by the way. You said something about her telling you earlier how I invited you guys and some other people to work on the project together, but then she doesn't show?"

Steve leans back in his chair, also crossing his arms. You glance down for a quick second and send a quick thank you to anyone who's that Steve is wearing a tight shirt that beautifully enunciates his biceps. Or maybe you should be mad at them, you don't know yet.

"Maybe it's the fact that she noticed, like I did, that it's been a month since this project was assigned and we haven't even started," Steve countered, "which is unlike you, you usually want to get stuff done ASAP."

You look at him in confusion. "How the fuck do you know that?"

Steve smirks, "I also happen to know that you don't have a sister, thanks to that lovely dinner with your mom." You shake your head in disbelief, mentally making a note to yell at your mom later.

"Isn't that what you said one of the many times I asked you to work on the project?" Steve looked so amused with himself, all cocky and proud that he had uncovered your lie. Your brain tried desperately to come up with a realistic enough explanation, but nothing was coming up.

You throw your hands up in defeat. "Ok, fine! I lied! Is it just so hard for you to believe that maybe, just maybe, not everyone in that high school wants to spend time with you outside of it?" Oh my God, why the fuck would you say that, you screamed internally.

Steve stared at you for a second before letting out a chuckle. " You know, I did think of that actually, but only for a bit." He reaches out for the book and grabs it from your grasp, flipping to a random page.

"You can only run away from a guy so many times before he catches a hint," he peers over at you, " and I mean literally, you're a fast runner, did you ever do track?"

"Yeah, in middle school," you answer quickly. Steve lets out a hum of agreement before placing his attention back on the book. You open your mouth, about to quip about being careful to not rip the pages when he speaks again. "I know I'm dumb, but I'm not an idiot, ya know?"

Your gaze snaps to his face. "Steve, I don't think you're dumb." He doesn't look too convinced. "Eh, I think you do. But you're interesting, you took me a lot longer to figure out than the others since girls just typically throw themselves at me."

You make a face of disgust, "Ok, you sound like a total prick, you know."

"Yep, heard it after I said it, but that's not the point here." He point his finger at you, "You have a crush on me."

You splutter out a sound of indignation. "Hello, what?" In your head, fire alarms are sounding. It's a code red, all hell is breaking loose. "Pfft, no I absolutely do not."

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Then how else do you explain the running away when you see me anywhere at school? You always have an insane excuse why we're not able to meet up to start the project, which some are hilarious," he admits, "but you've got me complaining about not doing homework, look what you've done to me!"

At this point you've gone silent, mouth agape with an excuse stuck in your throat refusing to come out. Steve's expression has changed, his eyes bore into yours with earnest, almost as if he's anticipating a certain answer, hoping for it. "So?"

You muster all the courage you have left and just when you're about to respond, Steve interrupts you again for like, the 15th time.

"Anyways, I've to get going, have some things to do and whatever." He gets up, shrugs on his jacket and then places his books in his backpack. You get up too, having absolutely no clue how to tell him not to go, that you want him to stay. "Steve, what do you mean?"

He glances over at you, "Nothing, I just have to go. I'm a busy guy." He starts making his way to your front door, leaving you behind in the kitchen, trying to understand what the fuck just happened. First, he accuses you of having a crush on him, which you do, and then he just thinks he can leave?

Oh, absolutely not.

With a new wave of determination, you catch up to Steve just as he's finishing putting on his shoes. "Say thanks to your mom for me for dinner, it was great," he says as he grabs the door handle. You don't let him continue with whatever stupid thing he was going to say next.

"Listen Harrington, I don't know what the fuck just happened back there, but the fact you think can just, leave after dropping a bomb like that is ridiculous," you say, glaring at him in annoyance, and Steve's just staring back at you with that stupid, stupid, smirk that has not left his face since the moment he stepped foot in here.

"So what if I did like you, huh? What if I did have a crush on you? Because I do, but that, quite frankly, is none of your business, none of your concern, actually, so... yeah." Steve is looking at you and you're looking at him, a little out of breath after your declaration. You don't have the energy right now to fully process what you just said.

All of a sudden, Steve seems to break character, the smugness gone, replaced with subtle endearment. He leans down and presses a swift kiss on your cheek before whispering, "Well, it's a good thing I like you too." He straightness back up and says, "I told you I knew you were different, you're a mystery. You're lucky running away seemed to work on me, by the way. I don't think it would for everyone else," he says while you stare at him in shock. You've been rendered silent once again, with nothing but the thought that Steve likes you back, repeating over and over again.

You clear your throat before speaking, "Well! Um, yay?" You truly have no idea what to do right now. Steve chuckles at your reaction, like he can't believe his words have caused you of all people, who continuously talk and talk and talk, to not have anything profound to say for once. He's kind of into it.

Steve grabs your hand and encases it with the other. "Come over to my house tomorrow after school, I'll drive you. We can work on the project and you know, talk, if you want." You nod fervently, "Yeah, yeah ok."

He smiles and drops your hand. "I really do have to go though, I wasn't making that up," he remarks as he opens the front door. "Oh, sure, that's fine," you reply. You hold open the door for him and watch as he descends the steps and makes his way towards his car. You watch him, holding onto the door for dear life.

As Steve gets into the car, he looks over at you and waves, "I'll see you tomorrow!" You wave back and yell back, "Yeah, tomorrow!" You don't go back inside until the car is out of sight. As you shut the door, you press your back against it, trying to wrap your head around what exactly happened in the last few hours.

Holy shit, you though, Steve Harrington likes me. Steve fucking Harrington. You let out an involuntarily squeal of excitement and immediately regret doing it as your mother calls down from upstairs. "Mija, are you ok? What happened?" Hearing her voice reminds you of her involvement over the events that transpired tonight.

Putting your happiness on hold for a moment, you start to storm up the stairs. "Mom!", you yelled, "How could you embarrass me like that, asking him to stay over for dinner, you know how I feel about him, I just about fainted 5 times throughout the night, how does that make you feel!? You almost killed me an—"

You would thank your mom later, because ultimately she helped, but for now, you'll stick to this.

[witherby]

What would happen if any if the batfamilys enemies kidnapped baby y/n and ended up hurting them badly?

I'm happy to tell you, but not in any fantastic detail. When you say "baby" I think "infant, no teeth, still in diapers, etc."

Content warning for bruises on an infant

--

The contexts in which you would not be with a family member as an infant are very few and far between. I'm thinking a couple of your brothers have you on an outing, like a soiree or a networking lunch for Wayne Enterprises, where they have to put the masks away and act like civilians. There's lots of people around, their attention spans are divided, and they're also counting down the minutes until it's socially acceptable to leave.

When that time finally hits, Dick politely excuses himself and goes to collect you and Tim so they can head home. But he only finds Tim.

And Tim turns and only sees Dick.

"I thought you were watching them," Tim says, immediately turning sheet white. Dick's complexion is the same.

"I thought you were watching them."

Cue the immediate panic. Tim has his phone out and is trying to pinpoint your location via the tracker they put in all your pacifiers. Dick's eyes are sweeping the area for any signs of you having either crawled away or gotten scooped up by some confused and well-meaning socialite.

You are far away, and getting farther. Someone definitely took you on purpose. They don't hesitate before leaving the gathering and radioing backup. They'll handle all the screaming and scolding from everyone else as long as you get back home safe.

Whoever did take you, be it someone from the usual rogues gallery or a rando that likes kidnapping kids, it doesn't take long for them to catch up to him. It also doesn't take long to do any damage, either, so when they do find you, it's unfortunately with some significant bruising. Your chubby cheeks are red from tears and your arms and waist have handprint bruising from being dragged around, but nothing is broken or bleeding.

Your brothers can't say the same for the one that had the balls kidnap you. He should be thankful Jason was already on another mission.

(Jason comes back and pays him a visit anyway. Nobody gets to lay a fucking finger on you.)

In the aftermath, you're almost overwhelmed by the attention. You don't sleep in your nursery alone again for months; either someone is in there with you, or you're simply relocated to one of their bedrooms for the night. You're handled so, so delicately, like you're made of porcelain. It's all very soft play and quiet voices for a couple days. If you flinch at contact, either due to the trauma of the kidnapping or because someone brushed against a bruise that's still healing, there will be tears shed from that person.

Bruce notices you flinch when he burps you after a feeding and he has to sit on the floor with you in his lap because his hands are shaking so badly.

Damian will not touch you directly at all. If you need to be picked up, he's fashioning a hammock to slowly and gently roll you into and then carry you off.

Alfred maintains the calmest facade when he carries you around, but if you make any kind of whine or pained face, he has to take a moment alone to recollect himself.

Dick and Tim can barely stand to look at you. They're overwhelmed with guilt for assuming the other person was watching you and not simply double-checking themselves.

Jason asks Tim if he can do some tummy time with you, and he just straight up shakes his head.

Dick fucks up his sleep schedule keeping an eye on you in the night, because even though Dr. Thompkins cleared you, what if she missed something and you develop a complication and need help? He doesn't patrol Blüdhaven properly for weeks, instead coming over to Gotham to keep vigil at your window.

Needless to say, the general public does not see you again for months, and when they do, you are with the entire family. They will not let that happen again.

[prettybiching]

Helloooooooo my love. First of all, happy new year! (although it's coming a week late, sorry about that) I hope this year is filled with love and joy for you!!

Secondly, piggybacking off your last reblog, yes desi weddings are so elaborate ahhh!!! I loved the whole experience despite how exhausting and stressful it was as the sister of the bride. there's pre-wedding events, a week long wedding and then the post-wedding events so yeah nearly two months of dedicated wedding festivities lmfao but it was SOOO fun and I'm moving overseas in a few weeks so I definitely had a winter for the books.

NOWWWWWWW, I'm going to be honest, I couldn't help myself and I gave myself some sneak peeks from all the chapters uploaded because every time I get the notification I get SO excited and lemme just say - YOU COOKED AND I HAVE MASSIVE THOUGHTS

You thought you finally found Daemon when you heard Caraxes was in the dragon pit, and so you run there, run, much to the protest of Arryk, who was hot on your heels. He managed to convince you to slow down by telling you that you would eventually get to the dragon pit if you walked, but you would never get there if you pass out.

Oh god, breaking my heart already. Daemon, I can't stand you at times ughhhhhh. What will it take for my poor girl to not have to beg for someone to love her and be considerate to her.

You nod, placing a hand on your chest. You do a walking motion with your fingers towards Caraxes.

This is either going to end horribly or wonderfully and I don't know how to feel about either.

...while he is distracted from trying to figure out what you were doing, you circle behind your knight and sneak past both, making a beeline towards Caraxes.

GIRL NO!!!!!!!!!

PLEASE STOP TRYING TO KILL YOURSELF EVERY OTHER CHAPTER FOR THE SAKE OF MY WELLBEING

Amidst the peril of it all, you are calm as you look up at Daemon's companion. It stems from the truth that it would be far less complicated and less painful to be eaten by a dragon than to tell your husband you are with child and deliver it.

And there goes my heart again...I'm so mad at Daemon and the chapter has only just begun. I can't get over just how scared she is of telling Daemon about the baby because he will probably accuse her of incest (which would be so fucking ironic HAH) even though deep down he knows she never did any of that he's just emotionally constipated AS HELL. Even Caraxes is going to be done with his ass

In truth, you think your heart might be impaired, because it doesn't race at all as the beast seemingly imposes upon you. He cannot seem to stop pacing around you, as if he was restless, anxious even.

Alexa play "I Think He Knows" by Taylor Swift

You feel bad, for it seems... you've upset him, "apologies... I was hoping you'd eat me."

😭😭😭 STOPPPPP PLEASE SPARE ME

"HEY!" Arryk screams, thinking he can distract Caraxes. He can't, and he is losing his mind. Hoes not know what to do but to shout your name in terror. He can't help but draw his sword and immediately the dragon keeper is yelling something, motioning that he stop.

Help, I know this is a deeply serious moment but I can't help but laugh at the fact that Arryk whipped out his sword to defend himself against CARAXES

"Gods be good," you mumble as you gaze upon the creatures scales, "you can smell him, can't you? Daemon?"

OH MY GOD CARAXES CAN SENSE DAEMONS BABY IN HER TUMMY WE'VE GOT MEDIEVAL DNA TEST SOMEBODY GET DAEMON HERE

"It would have been better if you made me a snack," you mumble against him, feeling your tears drip.

caraxes and reader's bestie arc better start NOW

"He shoved her back and she fell!" he explains, "that's why her nose is bloody."

Oh my god Arryk stop tattling on my boy Caraxes like that. He was just trying to show some affection and protectiveness!!! It's not his fault that years of bonding with daemon also turned him a little dense and emotionally constipated like his master

"Perhaps she might get strong enough to grant you a child," he clenches his jaw, "maybe once the gods have granted you a boy or girl, you will understand my grief." Viserys motions with a nod, "you are to return to your lady wife with no quarrel. Take him out of my sight."

The way I 100% believe that the foundation of the brothers' relationship is that daemon will ALWAYS do the exact opposite of viserys tells him so the fact that he told daemon to return to his lady wife, it will lead him to run as far away from her as possible (aka stepstones)

Daemon seals you into an embrace and the warmth of his body quickly seeps onto your much colder one. A shiver runs down your spine. You immediately wrap your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his chest. He mimics you, brushing his cheek against your hair, taking in the faint smell of citrus. He remembers what his brother said and repeats it, "ñuha mijegindita ābrazȳrys." My poor wife.

THIS SCENE MAKES ME WANT TO CRADLE MY HEAD IN MY HANDS AND WEEP BECAUSE WHAT THEY COULDVE BEEN IF DAEMON WASNT SO DENSE AND THICK AND STUPID AND UGHHHHHHH

Daemon sighs, "he must have smelled me on you and got excited."

you're so stupid

The voice of his brother rings in his mind. Do you carry such low regard of him just as he? "Why can't it be me?" he snaps, "you think I will be of no help?"

Daemon "I can never comprehend someone being genuinely concerned for me because I never had a mother, I don't remember my father's love and my brother was an even bigger emotionally constipated idiot who can't show me love so I'm going to mistake your love for you doubting my capabilities" targaryen

You cut him off by reaching for his legs. He is frozen in place as you embrace him from where you knelt on the floor.

This is so tragic I've started crying again...

Cannot leave you? He does not like the way you imply he would be unable to if he wanted. Daemon watches you as you slowly bring yourself up to a stand. He does not help you as you pull yourself up using his legs and waist.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I NEED THIS FUCKER TO RECEIVE THERAPY FROM BRAAVOS OR WHATEVER BECAUSE HIS UNRESOLVED CHILDHOOD TRAUMA AND THE LACK OF PARENTAL LOVE HE RECEIVED IS GOING TO DESTROY THE MC AND I CANNOT STAND FOR IT I WILL DIE

"because I love you."

and im dead. im gone.

"you are mistaken."

"I love you" "It'll pass"

"I do not feel the same," he mutters.

FUCK YOU FUCK THE WHOLE TSRGARYEN DYNASTY YOU FILTHY LYING WHORE OF A DRAGON RIDER GO FUCK MYSARIA IN A WIG AND CALL OUT YOUR WIFES NAME AND TELL HER YOU WANT HER BECAUSE YOURE TOO SCARED TO SAY IT TO YOUR WIFE AND GO TO THE SHITTY STEPSTONES SURROUNDED BY NOTHING BUT UGLY LOOKING PIRATES FOR THREE WHOLE YEARS WITH SHITTY FOOD AND SHITTY WINE KJHGRRYVHBEBN LTLV

You nod, "I know."

Author, did you reach inside my brain and find the worst ways to hurt me? BECAUSE THIS HURTS OKAY

BUT IT ALSO FEELS SO GOOD??? WHYS THE ANGST YOU WRITE SO FUCKING GOOD??? IM IN LITERAL TEARS OVER THESE TWO, THE WAY DAEMON MADE HER BEG FOR HIM TO STAY AND IT WAS STILL NOT ENOUGH THE PARALLELS OF HER SAYING IT NEVER SERVES HER WELL ASKING SOMEONE TO STAY

If you're wondering how I'm doing at the end of this, then imagine this - IM IN TEARS and contemplating my existence. But I cannot atop praising you for how GOOD this chapter was. It hit right the spot. Thank youuuuu for yet another masterpiece <3

Tormented Spirit | 10

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS ITS STILL TOO FUCKING LONG I HAD TO CUT IT AGAIN T_T blah blah canon stuff/high valyrian inaccurate blah. please please leave comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Daemon does not come home to you that night. When you awaken, you feel sick to your stomach. The thought of food repulsive though, so you spend the morning looking for your husband, until your body betrays you and feels sick because of not having eaten. You realize that your state is not borne simply from worrying about the prince, but probably also because of this supposed life you carried within you.

You try to deny it though, chalking it up to your mind playing tricks on you. After all, it's laughable that you suddenly experienced these symptoms just after all the fuss of learning you were with child.

You thought you finally found Daemon when you heard Caraxes was in the dragon pit, and so you run there, run, much to the protest of Arryk, who was hot on your heels. He managed to convince you to slow down by telling you that you would eventually get to the dragon pit if you walked, but you would never get there if you pass out.

You'd never been so happy to see the blood wyrm.

"Daemon?" you call out, searching for him.

Caraxes is busy feasting on meat and Arryk is busy watching him, body tense and senses on high alert.

The dragon keeper comes to you, shaking his head, "se dārilaros iksis daor kesīr dombo." The prince is not here anymore.

You understood nothing, save dārilaros, which you knew meant prince, and figure he's probably telling you he is not here, which you could gather from simple observation.

You turn to Caraxes and point, "zaldrīzes." Dragon.

The man brightens, as he understands, "Caraxes."

You nod, placing a hand on your chest. You do a walking motion with your fingers towards Caraxes.

His eyes widen and he shakes his head and hands.

You clench your jaw and turn to Caraxes, nodding your head in understanding.

The dragon keeper relaxes.

He mistakes you.

"Arryk," you turn to your ward, "can you come here please?"

Arryk's eyes linger on the dragon a moment before turning to you. You settle him in front of the dragon keeper, and while he is distracted from trying to figure out what you were doing, you circle behind your knight and sneak past both, making a beeline towards Caraxes.

The dragon notices you immediately and watches you near. He lifts his head and sniffs the air, and only then do the two men realize what's happening.

"PRINCESS!" Arryk shouts, sprinting towards you before coming to an abrupt stop.

Enraged, Caraxes cranes his long neck, roaring at Arryk, making him topple back on his bum.

The dragon keeper screams a command and raises his hands.

Amidst the peril of it all, you are calm as you look up at Daemon's companion. It stems from the truth that it would be far less complicated and less painful to be eaten by a dragon than to tell your husband you are with child and deliver it.

The red creature screeches as snaps his teeth at the two men, causing his keeper to step back and Arryk to crawl back with him.

Caraxes then averts his attention, shaking his head as he circles around you, effectively blocking the two from seeing anything other than his massive, scaly body.

In truth, you think your heart might be impaired, because it doesn't race at all as the beast seemingly imposes upon you. He cannot seem to stop pacing around you, as if he was restless, anxious even.

Your face contorts at the bleating sound it makes. He lowers his head slightly inhaling and exhaling deeply. He makes another noise and you swear to yourself, the creature looks like he's fidgeting.

You feel bad, for it seems... you've upset him, "apologies... I was hoping you'd eat me."

Caraxes screams loudly again when he spots two other dragon keepers come to you from the other side. He threatens them with a snap of his teeth.

"Daor!" they scream in unison. No.

Caraxes seethes and screeches, as if saying, 'do not tell me what to do'.

He circles around you again, and this time, he shoves you forward with his wing. You yelp as you are knocked to the ground with a thud. You manage to brace yourself, grazing your hands as you did, but your chest still hurts at the impact.

The keepers scream in horror because of this, fearing that you would soon be eaten.

"HEY!" Arryk screams, thinking he can distract Caraxes. He can't, and he is losing his mind. Hoes not know what to do but to shout your name in terror. He can't help but draw his sword and immediately the dragon keeper is yelling something, motioning that he stop.

You whine as you roll on your side. Caraxes growls as he bites your arm. The fear finally sets in as he does this, and his powerful maw pulls you up to sitting position.

The dragon keeper, who ran to retrieve you, shrieks out upon witnessing this.

You gasp when Caraxes roars back, and you squeal when his wing comes over you. The strangest thing occurs to you in that moment, and your heart finally begins to race— not because it sinks in how much danger you were in, but because, suddenly, you knew you were not.

You come to a stand, and with no regard for your safety, you reach out for the dragon's skin, somehow shocked by how warm and hard it is. "Caraxes."

He hears you, though you barely raised your voice. He is sensitive to the sound of his name. Caraxes moves back, pulling away enough to be able to coil his neck and look at you.

The dragon keepers, who were so on edge, altogether fall silent when they see you in the midst of the blood wrym.

Arryk nearly broke into a other sprint upon finally seeing you, but he manages to hold back and lowers his sword, unwilling to sheathe it.

Caraxes produces a sound you think is akin to a mewl, as much as a mewl a ten foot beast could make. You huff and feel your breath hitch. You close your eyes and reach out to him, ready to accept whichever fate awaits you, companionship or death.

You gasp, eyes instantly opening when you feel the wetness on your hands. Caraxes presses his snout to your palms, and you squeak, quickly pulling back at the heat of his huff.

He lifts his head and begins to pace around again. You are certain now that the beast was, in fact, restless.

"Paez ilagon!" you exclaim, raising your hands at him.

Caraxes huffs, debating if he should heed your command.

"Paez ilagon," slow down, you repeat as the dragon fully faces you.

You, and everyone else who witnesses it, are shocked that Caraxes listens. He quits his pacing and slowly comes to a halt, looming over you.

Your lips wobble, humbled by the idea such a fearsome creature would obey the commands of such a pathetic being. You begin to weep, as Caraxes lowers his head, sniffing you. Your hands dart out to him when he gets too close. You slightly topple when he nudges you with his snout. You feel the warmth of his breath seeping through your dress as he brushes against you. You can tell he is trying his best to be gentle, but even then he is too strong that you have to repel him. He makes the faintest of sounds.

"Gods be good," you mumble as you gaze upon the creatures scales, "you can smell him, can't you? Daemon?"

Caraxes remains pressed against you a moment longer.

You sniffle and momentarily fantasize about the child growing within you. You lean into him in defeat, "you silly thing."

His throat emits a low rumble.

"It would have been better if you made me a snack," you mumble against him, feeling your tears drip.

Caraxes slowly lowers his head until he is laid on the floor. You remain leaned on him for a moment, and then you pull away with a sigh. You look upon the dragon, thinking he is so much like his rider, and stroke his cheek one last time before pulling away.

You walk towards the dragon keeper you had blindsided and lower your head in shame, speaking the word you had learned for Daemon, "usōvegon." Apologies.

He stares at you for a moment, taking in your now messy hair and dirtied face, and replies with something you do not understand.

You nod at him without meeting his eyes then hurriedly walk off. Arryk is quick to follow after you, and his skidding makes Caraxes screech at him. He flinches at the sound, looking behind him warily. You do not.

When Arryk finally catches up to you, he takes your arm and calls out your name. He is alarmed by the red smeared down your philtrum and cheek.

"Forgive me," you mutter, unable to meet his gaze. You do not stop walking, "I- I was overcome... I did not think of anything but myself. I did not mean to cause anyone such immense distress."

"What were you trying to do?" Arryk quips, taking in your dirtied face. He did not know if it would be appropriate to wipe it with his cloak.

You shake your head, still unable to look at him.

"Princess," Arryk speaks like a plea, "did you know Caraxes would not hurt you?"

You gulp, quickening you pace.

Arryk huffs in frustration, calling out your name.

He forces you to stop by dashing forward, coming in front of you. You look up at him, eyes teary and mouth parted.

"I beg you," he clenches his fists, before succumbing to his urges. He grabs his cloak and wipes your face, brushing the dirt and blood as neatly as he can, "please tell me you did not knowingly put yourself in danger."

The tears running down your face help him clean you off. You honestly say, "I don't know if I should tell you."

Arryk is heart broken. He clenches his jaw tightly and releases his hold on you. He steps aside and you begin walking again.

You feel awful as you look at him. He is sullen as he walks beside you. You wipe your nose on your sleeve, "apologies, Arryk."

He shakes his head and opens his mouth. His jaw hangs for a moment, but then he closes his mouth, saying nothing.

You turn to your side when you hear your name called.

Alicent, who was making her way to the king's quarters, runs up you, eyes widening at the blood on your face. The red had spread as it mixed with your tears. She quickly pulls out her handkerchief, "your nose is bleeding!"

Your eyes widen, as you did not know this, but you quickly take her wrist and slowly pull away, "it is nothing."

"What happened to her, ser?" Alicent turns to Arryk.

Arryk is eager to tattle, "she was at the dragon pit and-"

"I fell," you cut him off, blocking your sister's gaze upon your ward, "I-"

"You fell in the dragon pit?!" she bristles further. Your feigning backfired. "What did Daemon do?!"

"The prince is nowhere to be seen," Arryk scoffs.

"I was- am looking for him!" you blurt

"Caraxes nearly attacked her," Arryk adds.

"Arryk!" you whip your head to him then back to your sister, "he did not!"

"He shoved her back and she fell!" he explains, "that's why her nose is bloody."

Alicent calls your name as you call Arryk's.

Your sister takes your shoulders, eyes immediately watering, "did you want to get hurt, sister?"

Your jaw slacks, "I- I-"

"Does Daemon posses you to do such things?" your baby sister begins to cry.

You shake your head rapidly, "no! No. I swear to you, this has nothing to do with him."

"Then what?" Alicent asks with a broken voice.

You gasp for air and feel a shiver run down your spine. You cannot tell her the truth, so you explain instead, "my nose already bled yesterday, which is why it's bleeding now."

"What?!"

"I already fainted yesterday and fell quite hard, which is why my nose is bleeding again."

"Mother, please," Alicent whispers.

"Alicent, I swear to you, you need not-"

"How could you let this happen to her twice?" Alicent turns to Arryk.

Arryk lowers his head, "I have failed-"

"I snuck behind him," you blurt, "do not fault him for my impulsiveness."

Alicent's heart is crush as she watches you wipe your face.

"It is not Arryk's fault that my nose is bloody. It is neither Caraxes fault for shoving me. It is mine. My body is weak and I have spent all day looking for my husband, against the behest of my maester."

Alicent clenches her jaw. It is Daemon's fault.

"I will go to the maesters' ward and submit to whatever is prescribed to me," you place a hand on her shoulder. You sniffle, "do not speak to father of this."

"Make sure to go to the maester's then," you sister warns.

Dejected, you look away and walk off.

Alicent takes in a breath before grabbing her skirts, marching over to the king's quarters.

Viserys is in the middle of gluing his diorama of King's Landing when he hears a knock on the door, "come in."

Alicent enters, sighing deeply before pulling a smile.

"Alicent," his blank expression slightly lightens.

She curtsies, "your highness," and walks over to him. She turns her attention to whatever it was the king was building.

Viserys shows raises a block, "a new tower."

Alicent smiles softly, "pretty."

The king raises a brow upon noticing the stiffness to her demeanor, "is everything alright?"

Alicent betrays herself on purpose by nodding her head too quickly.

Viserys puts the tower down. He reaches for her arm, "what's wrong, my girl."

She takes a sharp breath, "my sister—"

He furrows his brows.

"—she... she has a bloody nose from falling."

"She fell?"

"Twice," Alicent fidgets with her hands, honest agitation for her sister taking over her, "because she's been looking for Daemon."

His reaction to the name is instant. Viserys' jaw clenches and his fists ball in anger, "Daemon."

Daemon struts down the great hall, making his way towards the Iron Throne. The night was now deep and the few candles lit in the room only increased the tension between the brothers.

The prince looks up at the king. The king and two kingsguard stationed on either side of the throne look down at him. Viserys clenches his sword, "and where have you been?"

Daemon scoffs, aimlessly looking around, "have you summoned me to nag?" He clasps his hand in front of him, leaning on one foot, "I already have a wife for that."

His brother laughs, hard. It echoes across the hall, but it is by no means genuine, "I would not have ever known with all the time you waste in brothels."

Daemon grinds his teeth, face contorting, "so you've summoned me to reb-"

"Did you say it?" Viserys snaps.

"... what?"

"An heir for a day— did you say it?!"

"..."

The king's nostrils flare.

"... we must all mourn in our own way, your grace."

Viserys sighs, lowering his head in defeat for a second, then erupts, "MY FAMILY HAS BEEN DESTROYED!" He seethes, "and instead of staying at mine, or Rhaenyra's side you celebrate your own rise with your whores and your lickspittles!

"And wife," he scoffs, "your poor wife... do you even know that your mount has injured her?"

Daemon stiffens.

"She came to the pit looking for you and the beast caused her a bloody nose."

"What?"

"You chose her Daemon. And in choosing her you prove time and time again, I bend to your desires only to be repaid with disrespect. You have no other allies in court but me, yet-"

"You do nothing but distance me from court! From the City Watch, even with- with her... you do nothing but heed the whispers of that leaching old man."

"Leaching old man?" Viserys raises his brows.

Daemon nearly vibrates in anger.

"You mean Otto Hightower?" the king's lips curl, "the man who begged me—"

He laughs dryly.

"—over and back to spare her sickly daughter from enduring a lifetime with a the likes of you!"

Daemon is wounded, "I am your brother."

"Then why do you cut me so deep?"

"I see that man for what he is."

Viserys huffs, "a loyal and faithful-"

"A cunt!"

The king leans back. His kingsguard are ready to draw their steel. Viserys realizes there is no getting through to him. He looks away then turns back to glare at him, "jiōragon hen ñuha laehurlion." Get out of my face.

"Lēkia," Daemon steps forward, muttering the word that meant older brother.

The kingsguards step forward, showing a glimmer of their swords as a warning.

"I hear it is the first time your Hightower bride has been separated from her twin. It would do her health good to visit Oldtown."

He clenches his fists tightly.

"Perhaps she might get strong enough to grant you a child," he clenches his jaw, "maybe once the gods have granted you a boy or girl, you will understand my grief." Viserys motions with a nod, "you are to return to your lady wife with no quarrel. Take him out of my sight."

Daemon does not wait to be apprehended and storms out of the room. He is bristling as he gets out.

"Mazeman bona ziry gōntan daor jikagon sȳrī." I take that it did not go well.

Daemon turns and sees Corlys standing by the door, hands clasped in front of him.

"I wanted to speak to you of something important earlier today. I hope your mood is not too bad foul-"

"Ȳdragon se sagon gaomagon lēda bisa jenigon," Daemon snaps. Speak and be done with this bother.

Corlys straightens his back and motions with hand, "it is regarding the Stepstones, your grace."

Daemon furrows his brows, vaguely recalling this topic being broached during one of the council meetings. The two of them discuss this as they walk down the hall. By the time the prince reaches your shared quarters, he's agreed to help the Seasnake with his concern.

You leap from your bed when the door opens. Daemon freezes as you scurry to the door, hastily running to him without even putting on your slippers. You stand before him barefoot, heaving as you clutch your nightgown. He stares at you, hands clenching into fists.

"Usōvegon," your lips tremble.

Daemon's face falls a fraction as he watches your eyes water.

"Usōvegon," apologies, you repeat. "Please..." you slowly reach for him.

He watches your palms press against his chest. He makes no attempt to move.

"Do not be cross with me any longer."

A deep breath flares through his nostrils. He realizes then that he is exhausted and shuts his eyes. He leans his forehead on yours and takes your wrists. He huffs at your feel, "you are freezing."

"I-"

Daemon seals you into an embrace and the warmth of his body quickly seeps onto your much colder one. A shiver runs down your spine. You immediately wrap your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his chest. He mimics you, brushing his cheek against your hair, taking in the faint smell of citrus. He remembers what his brother said and repeats it, "ñuha mijegindita ābrazȳrys." My poor wife.

You don't know what he says, so you make sure to tell him what wants to hear— what you think he wants to hear, "I will not defy you ever again."

He does not care about that. He pulls back and looks at you. He wipes the tears off your face and a line forms between his brows, "Caraxes attacked you?"

One of your hands instinctively comes to your philtrum, "no. I-" you shake your head, "I fell."

You don't know why you think Daemon would be satisfied with your answer. He presses, "tell me exactly what happened."

You huff, "I was... yesterday, I fainted—"

"Fainted?"

"—then I fell."

He shakes his head, "this happened in the dragon pit?"

"... no. When... when I was chasing after you."

Daemon brushes your hair back.

You cannot hold his gaze, "I went to the pit, hoping you'd be there and-" you realize you cannot tell him what happened. You cannot tell him you walked to his mount and his mount did not attack you because he could smell part of him in you. You huff, "-and Caraxes got close and knocked me over."

"Did he try to bite you?"

You debate for a second before shaking your head.

Daemon sighs, "he must have smelled me on you and got excited."

Your throat tightens. Goosebumps form on your arm when Daemon traces your nose with his thumb.

"And your nose bled?"

You do not want to answer.

He sighs, "I will reintroduce you to him, so that he does not act so-"

"It's not his fault!" you blurt, "not really."

He knits his brows.

"When I fainted and fell, my nose already bled, so..." you motion with a finger, "Caraxes simply... set off a previous injury."

He says absolutely nothing.

"My body is weak," you mumble, hoping to explain it better, "I've had worse injuries."

"Do you tell me this so that I will not bring you to Caraxes?"

"No," you shake your head, "no. Just... so you do not..." worry, you almost say, but then the idea feels presumptuous.

"Not fault my beast for acting like one?" Daemon asks, as he heads for his cabinet.

You look at him for a moment then follow. You decide to hum and proceed to help him get undressed.

Your husband examines your face. The moonlight mixed with candlelight makes your skin glow. He is loathe to think your tears add to it, but it's unfortunately true. Your being glistens because of all these things. He interrupts your unbuttoning by taking your cheeks and slowly wiping off the tears on your lashes.

You blink at him, "better?"

"Gevie," he says, brushing your throat with his thumbs.

You nod, though you still did not know what that meant. You push his doublet past his shoulders and once his dress shirt remained, he is quick to remove his shoes as you bring his clothes to the hamper. When you walk back to him, he is picking out clothes from his closet. You are deeply confused when he hands you a stack of shirts.

Daemon moves to his other cabinet and says, "pack those in my trunk for me."

You freeze and blink rapidly, "I-" you turn to his truck, which was atop his closet. Your heart races, "I cannot reach it."

Daemon pulls out more clothing before looking at you. You watch him closely as he stands and reaches for the trunk. He places it on the floor and opens it.

You slowly kneel on the floor beside it, doing your best to keep calm in this moment. Are you leaving? You nearly ask him, but you don't because he clearly is. You begin to fold his clothes, but you cannot hold your peace, "where are you going?"

Daemon stuffs his clothes into his trunk and sighs before crouching down to fix them, "the Stepstones."

"W-what?"

"The Seasnake needs help with the Crabfeeder, so I will help him."

"Why?" you blurt all too quickly.

Daemon straightens up. He looks down at you as you shake your head and quickly finish folding his clothes.

"Why must it be you?"

The voice of his brother rings in his mind. Do you carry such low regard of him just as he? "Why can't it be me?" he snaps, "you think I will be of no help?"

He is taken aback by how you chuck his clothes into his trunk rather aggressively. His face begins to harden with anger but then you make a noise and lean into the trunk, heaving deeply in and out.

"Wha-"

You cut him off by reaching for his legs. He is frozen in place as you embrace him from where you knelt on the floor.

Whatever choler was building in him quickly dissipates and morphs into... fear, or rather, worry. He calls out your name, reaching for your head.

"You cannot leave me," you shudder, gripping his calves for dear life. You look up at him, face wholly distraught but not teary. You find yourself too tired to shed a tear.

Cannot leave you? He does not like the way you imply he would be unable to if he wanted. Daemon watches you as you slowly bring yourself up to a stand. He does not help you as you pull yourself up using his legs and waist.

Your hands remain gripping the sides of his shirt as you stare at him. You take in his stoic expression as you gather the nerve to repeat, "you cannot leave m-"

"And why can't I?" he quips as his insecurity gets ahead of himself.

You hear it in his voice. You hear how he thinks you're challenging him. You shake your head and correct yourself, "n-no," you shudder, "no, Daemon, no. I- I want you to stay." You brush your palms up his chest.

He can feel the tremble of your hands as they come to his cheeks. He knit his brows at your confession. He has to ask, "why?"

You could tell him many reasons. The one possibly most relevant to him is that of the fact you were carrying his unborn child. A shiver runs down your spine; you are not foolish enough to believe this would be something that would make him want to stay. You could always tell him you needed him, your health needed him, because it was true. As much as he clawed your fragile heart, he made it soar in ways you've never experienced. But there was a rather simpler truth to that need, though attached to a very complicated feeling, "because I love you."

Daemon's expression falls. Though his lips barely part, you can tell that he is gobsmacked. You release a shaky breath as you swipe his chin and jaw with the pads of your thumbs.

Should he be so shocked? Love in a marriage is not so uncommon, even if it is arranged, even if it felt opposite in the beginning.

So, what?

What was your love to him? It would wax and wane like his brother's— and his brother, his fucking brother. He could not grant him the satisfaction. Daemon takes you by the wrists and slowly pries you off, "you are mistaken."

You take a deep breath at his words. You are perfectly still.

"I do not feel the same," he mutters.

Daemon was not one to lie, convinced such an act was beneath him, reserved for incapable, lesser men; half-wits, and yellow-bellies. The only reason he could say this was because the cup in which you held your love for him was far deeper than the one he had for you, and he was aware of it. He loved himself far more than he could ever bring himself to love anyone; he would always be first.

Still, he was not an incapable, lesser man, nor was he a half-witted yellow-belly. He knew of the cup he held, which oft overflowed. The mere thought of you triggered a smell in the air, and at the mention of your name, his bones ignited. You were his, and you held his regard, his affection, his lust, and, yes, his love.

All of this, he was about to explain, but then your reaction blind-sided him.

You nod, "I know."

How terrible it was to hear it. He knew his words where callous. He knew wuch an admission is a gash from a jagged blade— to not be loved by who you loved. Yet your casual resignation to this information stung, nay, scorched his heart.

Is it cold? Is his love so dry you cannot even feel it?

His grip on you falters.

You bring your hands to his shoulders. You rub his bicep and smile softly in reassurance, "I do not mind."

"What?"

Your smile widens a fraction, "I know you enjoy the... delicateness of my body, both intimately and-" you motion to yourself, "-regarding my affliction."

He knits his brows.

"It is wholly contrary to yours, and it is mirthful to you," you nod again, "I understand."

"Do you?" he raises his furrowed brows.

You slowly loosen your hold on him. You pull away to fidget with your fingers, "do I not?"

"No," he scoffs under his breath, chest tightening far too much he has to move past you, "I don't think you do."

You are quick to grab him but it slips, "then make me understand."

Daemon stops in his tracks, turning back to you as his breathing picks up.

Your own does the same, but your gasps get shorter and shorter, so much so, you feel yourself get lightheaded. Your husband has to grab you to keep you upright, but you want to show him you have the will to overcome this, that you aren't dead weight, so push him away and mutter, "I- I can do it, Daemon."

He misinterprets you. You scorch him again. He squeezes your arms, "you don't want my help now?"

"No," you say as try to catch your breath, "I- I just-" you cannot continue.

Daemon has to sit you down to help calm you down. He tried to keep you upright, but then he realizes you were consciously trying to lean into his chest, so he lets you. You press your cheek against his warm muscles and sigh at the beat of his heart. You wrap your arms around him, "I want this."

He stares at your brown hair for a moment.

"I want all of this," you sigh, "which is why I want to be what you want me to be."

He finally lets himself embrace you, but just then, you pull away to look at him.

"I can do it," you nod as you take a final deep breath, "I can be a dutiful wife— I will be a dutiful wife. I will not defy you. I will do as you please. I will not expect more than I ought."

"You cannot do everything for me," Daemon says with slight contempt, a line between his brows.

"I-" you shake your head, "... I know," you shake your head faster, taking his hands, "but can I make you stay?"

He looks at how you hold him. He feels sick.

"What can I do to ma-"

"You do not understand," he pulls his hand away, "my brother wants me to leave. He is sick of me and prays for my riddance."

You watch as Daemon stands and paces around.

"He told me to bring you to your twin in Oldtown, and I would sooner eat Caraxes' shit than be tossed aside to the fucking Reach."

You shake your head, "why does he want you to leave?"

"He is weepy over the drunken words I spoke."

"Well, what did you-"

"Does it matter?!" he snaps, raising his hands, "I must leave!"

He is clearly upset. You nod your head and come to a stand, "then I will speak to the k-"

"No!" he shouts, "I will not have my wife act on my behalf, as though I rolled my belly."

"You are not rolling your belly, I am."

"You think there is a fucking difference?!" he quips, marching in front of you, "no! I am to leave in the dawn, so pack my fucking things, woman!"

You grit your teeth in an attempt to steel yourself away. It does not prevent the tears from running down your cheeks.

Daemon's nostrils flare as you go back to his trunk and sort out his clothes. He hears your soft whimpers and slowly begins to deflate. He wipes his face, slowly turning to you. He watches tears drop onto his garbs, "have you nothing to say?"

You sniffle and shake your head rapidly.

"No?!" his expression pinches.

You stand and grab the rest of this clothes. You sniffle with difficulty then sigh deeply. Your voice is shaky, "I want only to please you."

Daemon chuckles dryly, aimlessly looking around, "you think this pleases me?"

"Then tell me what will!" you whip your head around, clutching his clothes tightly in your arms, "I implore you." You step forward and haphazardly drop everything to his trunk, "I cannot please you if you refuse to tell me what you want."

"I want to go to the fucking Stepstones!" he points to nowhere.

You are shattered. How terrible of him to make it so painfully clear that what he wants does not even involve you. He does not want you, or even if he did, you cannot be enough. You lower your gaze.

"I want you to beg me to stay."

You look up at him. You chuckle dryly under your breath when you realize he's being serious. Your sorrow is not enough, it seems, now he wants even your shame.

Daemon tenses when you get on your knees.

You grip the fabric of his trousers as tightly as possible in an attempt to steel yourself, but it does not prevent your tears from falling. You shudder, "please."

"..."

"Stay. I beg you."

Your prince gazes upon your bitterness. He brushes your cheek and feels the coldness of your tears. He sighs because this does not affect him the way he had hoped.

It is not enough.

Dawn breaks, and Caraxes is restless. Daemon's things were being secured on his dragon, but that is not why so many dragon keepers had to keep him in check.

There, by the entrance, you stood with your hands clasped together and your head hung low. Both your wards behind you, eyeing your prince, who was doing his best to calm his ride as the last of his things were readied. Daemon did not know Caraxes was acting this way because of your distress, but the keepers slowly began to realize this was the case.

One of the keepers call out, "ñuha dārilaros, aōha ābrazȳrys." My prince, your wife.

"Rȳbagon, Caraxes!" Daemon snaps at his dragon to listen. Caraxes shakes his head and the prince spares the dragon keeper a glance, "skoros hen zirȳla?" What of her?

"Aōha zaldrīzes kostagon yknagon zirȳla boter." Your dragon can smell her suffering.

The prince turns to you, back to Caraxes, "iksis ziry zirȳla, Caraxes?" Is it her, Caraxes.

You lift your gaze when you hear Daemon call for you. He beckons you over and before you can move, Arryk grabs your arm and whispers, "I do not think this wise."

You slightly turn to him, "he will not harm me. You saw how Caraxes acted yesterday."

"It is not the dragon I worry about."

You look at the man, seeing how his jaw is clenched. You place a hand on his shoulder plate before walking towards your husband.

Rather immediately, there is a shift in Caraxes's demeanor. He huffs and screeches, neck coiling so his head could come near you. Daemon barks out multiple commands and his mount finally obeys.

The prince knits his brows then turns to you, reaching out a hand. You take it and find yourself pulled into your husband's arms. Your skin pricks with goosebumps when he whispers in your ear, "he wants you."

You sigh and close your eyes, resigning yourself to Daemon. He links his fingers into yours and places it atop his dragon's snout.

Caraxes sighs and slightly leans in.

Daemon is astounded by this, "I did not know he could possibly care for someone more than his rider."

You slowly open your eyes and look at the creatures ruby scales. "He does not," you mutter, rubbing one hand on your belly.

He does not hear this. When he turns you around, he catches you rubbing your stomach. He sighs and takes your hand, "do not weep so bitterly."

You cannot do anything but the opposite. Tears stream down your cheeks, "do not be so cruel then."

Daemon watches how your lips wobble. A line forms between his brows, "do not make this harder than it should."

You pull away from him and lower your gaze, "then just leave me now, and spare me the slow torture."

He tenses at your words. His expression hardens, "I did not ask you to see me off."

"Shall I leave then?" you snap, eyes red as you look back at him.

"Yes!"

You grab your skirt and walk towards the twins.

Daemon is stunned. He turns around and watches as you storm off. He calls your name, once, twice, and then he is sobered by the scream of Caraxes. You do not even stop by the entrance anymore, and walk past your kingsguards, who are quick to follow after you.

Here you were doing his bidding, following his wishes, yet there was no satisfaction. All there was... was less of you, less of your strength, your light, your fire.

Daemon turns to Caraxes, who was restless again. He pushes past the dragon keepers and saddles up. He orders Caraxes to start walking, so he does. The blood wrym begins to crawl towards you and the prince has to reel him back, barking out orders of obedience far too loudly.

Caraxes gives a loud screech before following the order. He huffs so deeply that the wind it produces makes you topple.

Your knights are quick to keep you upright, and though you so badly want to turn around, you remind yourself that your husband has done nothing but all he wants since you've wed. If he wanted you to stay, he would have told you.

You wouldn't know then that Daemon made Caraxes stop in his tracks. You wouldn't know that as he watched you walk off, he was mumbling under his breath that you turn around. You just kept walking yet he still waited for you to turn back, even after your figure had disappeared.

He would also never know that you headed down to the docks near the Keep, just to watch Caraxes fly away one last time. He would never know how your skin pricked with gooseflesh at the sight of the red winged beast soaring above. He would never know how hard it became for you to breathe.

"Gods, please," you mumble as your eyes endlessly watered, "swiftly return him to me."

Arryk and Erryk, stood on either side of you, glared at the sky as they heard your broken voice. They were on high alert as the docks were busy at this hour, and yet, it was necessary to convey their contempt, even if the person it was meant for could not see.

"Give me back my husband," you look at your reflection in the water, "or take me to my mother."

Before your words even register to either of the twins, you've already jumped into the water. Erryk nearly jumps in with you before realizing his armor would surely make him sink. "PRINCESS!" he screams as he undoes his armor.

"THE PRINCESS!" Arryk screams to the fisherman, "SHE'S FALLEN INTO THE WATER!"

The commotion is great. It is loud and frantic, yet as your body plunges and slowly begins to float, you care little. You feel someone fish you out of the water by the arm, and you want nothing more than to break free and swim towards your demise. But then, you hear your wards calling out your name, and you realize you cannot.

You say nothing once you are on land.

Both Cargylls has a hand on your arm, and each of them are worriedly questioning you, "are you alrigh- what happe- what were you thinki- are you faint- my princess-"

"I need to see him," you say.

Arryk and Erryk freeze. The look at each other, not knowing what to say. Arryk offers, "my princess. I fear you cannot see Dae-"

"Not him," you look between them as you gather your skirts. It is arduous, as it is soaking wet.

Otto was on his way back from the scrolls room when hears the shout from across the hall. He tenses like a rock at the recognition of his daughter's voice.

You hadn't realized how tired you were until you saw him. Your knees immediately buckle and you fall to the floor as you call out, "papa!"

The Lord Hand dashes to you, dropping the scrolls he had along the way. He gets on his knees and picks you up. He is aghast by your dripping state, and his anger is soon turned on your incompetent guards, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY GIRL?"

"Papa," you mutter once you are in his arms.

Otto cradles you, looking down at your sorry form. A deep line is between his brows.

"He left me," you whisper, tears wetting your already wet cheeks.

Daemon. Lord Hightower clenches his jaw. It's always fucking him. "Come, my girl," he mutters, trying to bring you to your feet, "let's get you-"

Your voice is soft, yet it still cuts him off, "you must not leave me."

Otto is frozen. Arryk and Erryk are frozen too.

"If you leave me too, I do not think I will survive."

[seekerofthesightlessway]

I keep thinking about Laila. I fear the worst for her. She should've been graduating high school and going to college, not this. Not scraping out a meager existence amongst the rubble and the corpses begging for change on the internet to buy food and medicine. I wish I still had my old blog so I could look at the conversations we had, I'm glad I got to know her. She was a sweetheart and very dear to me like a little sister. But I haven't heard from her in months. I would be worried sick whenever she went a day without messaging me, but she'd always be back the next day, telling me about the bombings and the blackouts. But the days turned into weeks turned into months and now I'm finally facing the fact that she might be gone. I feel like shit for not coming to that realization sooner. It's been a creeping thought in the back of my mind for a long time, but I've been denying it and making excuses that she might have lost her phone or her password or something. Sometimes I see the "recently active" light on her blog, but I see that on deactivated blogs sometimes too, who fucking knows with how shoddy tumblr's backend is. If anyone has heard from her, please let me know. Either way, not knowing for sure is hell. I can't even cry for her to mourn for her, I've just had a lump stuck in my throat on the verge of tears for days. But I can't abandon her. Even though she might be gone, her family might still be alive, and we still have an obligation to them. Her mother was pregnant and might have given birth already- can you imagine having to take care of a baby in Gaza? If you have anything at all to spare, even if it's only a dollar, please do. Laila's fundraiser has a higher percentage of it's goal met than some, but honestly, that doesn't really mean anything. Between border crossings becoming less common and the price of living skyrocketing, these campaigns become less of a fundraiser for a specific goal and more of a fund from which to withdraw money to pay for necessities, and the percentage of the goal met doesn't reflect the amount of money they actually have. I'd be surprised if they have even a thousand euros- and that's not as much as it sounds when diapers or loaves of bread can cost two hundred euros apiece. I don't know how to make a specific family stand out to catch the attention of tumblr users, and I don't even know if it's worth it to turn them and their misery into sideshow attractions stripped of their dignity for a hypothetical engagement gain. But if you're reading this, please do what you can to spread this fundraiser and donate to Laila's family. They still need us. Tagging for reach under the cut- lmk if you want to be removed

@pussyronin @britomartis @wotsukai @smoqueen @specialmouse @boobieteriat @pitbolshevik @hollowslantern @tamamita @apas-95 @paper-mario-wiki @marxism-transgenderism @sayruq @nabulsi @grox @omegaversereloaded @cryptotheism @komsomolka @11thsense @beetledrink @imlizy @b0tster @r0zeclawz @punkitt-is-here @3000s @feluka @dailyquests @afro-elf @nyancrimew @thatdiabolicalfeminist @neechees @berserkerjewel @catsgifsarefun @spaghettioverdose @deepspaceboytoy @rickybabyboy @ot3 @90-ghost @i-am-a-fish @vampiricvenus @tpwrtrmnky @tlirsgender @minmos @slimetony @sluttynurse @opencommunion @iregularlyevadetaxes @neptunerings @yekkes @tododeku-or-bust @hotvampireadjacent @dirhwangdaseul @meshugenist @bunniope @evillesbianvillain

[aropride]

fascinated and distressed by chase's disordered relationship with sexuality + his emotions abt his own trauma & abuse

thru the beginning of the show he doesn't even realize he's hot despite being objectively attractive. when he finds out he's hot he then realizes people pretend to be interested in him as a person in order to have sex with him and gets super upset about it

he starts having a bunch of meaningless sex as a coping mechanism when cameron leaves him. and also a lot of other times. whenever something bad happens, basically, he starts going out with a bunch of women, just to feel something, presumably

^to the extent where hes known within the hospital as a slut. and has had sex with an insane amount of nurses. as well as presumably women who are not at his place of work.

he says doing this made him hate himself so he stopped. it's the b-plot for an episode and then he's back having meaningless sex again by the end of the episode

even his coworkers know this about him. and have called it out, masters even says she thinks he doesn't respect women bc, in her words, he's with a different one every few days or maybe he finds comfort in meaningless relationships

goes back to having meaningless sex within weeks of getting stabbed. which is really bad for wound healing reasons too. genuinely it seems like such compulsive behavior for him considering he keeps doing it even when its objectively not only a bad idea but actively dangerous

house even directly says he's "a serial slut" because he's "terrified of intimacy." incredibly accurate assessment

his relationship with his sexuality reads so heavily as someone who thinks they're not good for anything else

see also: dissociation & avoidance

we know he has a lot of trauma especially in childhood- he never really gets into it let alone into how he Feels about it but what we know is already bad & that's just the stuff he's okay with sharing with his coworkers or patients

in general he's very avoidant of his own trauma- when he gets stabbed he says he "can't change what happened, can only make better choices from here" as if it was his own fault, and refuses thru the whole episode to acknowledge that being traumatized by this would be a really normal reaction that he is definitely having. instead he just blames himself

also, he dissociates from traumatic things that happen to him - says "there was a stabbing" rather than "i was stabbed" for instance

when he's talking abt his childhood trauma he does it in a very similar way - he talks about it very bluntly and doesn't ever get into how he actually feels about it.

see also: dr. fawn response

general passive willingness to go along with anything- when cameron says they should have sex in s3 he's surprised and then he just kinda goes along with it. not bc he didn't want to bc he obviously did, but he's just generally very much someone who does whatever other people want him to do. i feel like he and cameron both tend to seek validation thru sex in an unhealthy way that i'm still gnawing on like a dog with a bone i have to go rewatch s3 to really articulate it though

he has a sort of desperation for praise and approval especially from anyone he views as an authority figure. he does whatever authority figures tell him out of this idea that it'll bring him approval and therefore safety

like no matter what house does or says to him he doesn't argue or retaliate or anything. even when house punches him he collapses on the ground in pain and then just keeps talking about the patient like nothing happened.

the scene in 3.10 after house punches him where he's in the ddx room and house walks in and throws the file at him and chase is startled and tries to pretend he's not. and he looks up with this huge fuck ass bruise on his jaw swallows heavily and pretends not to be upset. and house asks if he got that looked at as if he wasn't the one to give it to him and chase just swallows and says he's fine. dr fawn response :(

[joyceyayo]

Stanford & Stanley Pines NSFW alphabet Pt. 1

A/n - there is some freaky shit, you’ve been warned.

A = aftercare (what they like after sex)

Ford: He gets flustered after, often embarrassed of things he said or did in the heat of the moment. But that won’t stop him from wrapping his arms around you and cuddling you to sleep.

Stan: If it’s a one night stand, I think he’s partial to leaving right after. Maybe a pat on the ass to say goodbye. but if be really cares for you hes all about aftercare. You often see him smirking after, cocky and proud of himself. He’ll almost always snap open a Pitt and light a cigarette, holding it to your mouth for a drag if you ask nicely.

B = body part (favorite body part of theirs and their partners)

Ford: He always says his brain, but if you say he’s annoying and cheated, he’ll give you his honest answer. Which is his chin; he never really thought about it until a girl from BMU said he had the perfect mouth and chin to sit on, which had him blushing every time he thought about it for weeks. And yes. All the girls there were that forward. So suffice to say, he got his fair share of pussy there. And he never minded his smile; he liked how you could always tell him and Stanley apart from their smiles. And you can’t disagree with any of this :)

Stan: His arms. When he hit puberty, he barely noticed and honestly disliked the broad shoulders and big arms he was developing a bit. It's just another thing for people to pick on him for. But one day, when he and Ford were next to each other in the mirror, Ford said something about, “How are we genetically identical, yet you’re the one who got dad’s arms?” Ever since, he didn’t seem to mind them.

C = Cum (where they like to cum ofc 😋)

Ford: Inside of you. All day. Every day. Not literally, of course. Or maybe…? He doesn’t know. What he knows is that all day every day, his brain is wracked with thoughts about stressful and dire shit he can’t control one bit… but when he fills you up, it’s like a switch is flipped that turns all of that off, and he’s just with you.

Stan: Tits, ass, face. The man isn’t picky as long as he gets to cum on you while looking right at you.

D = dirty secret (a dirty secret obviously)

Ford: This man steals your fucking panties. Used ones, too. You’ve found the panties you thought went missing accidentally left in his pocket while doing laundry. You playfully scolded him while slapping his arm with them, calling him a dirty old man. But you let up a bit because he was so cute when he got embarrassed about it, turning bright red and chuckling.

Stan: takes Polaroids of you sleeping after sex… he thinks it’s normal enough. He keeps them in his bedside table, and depending on how long you last, you will go for years oblivious to such photos.

E = experience (how experienced are they?)

Ford: experienced enough to make you feel great. I mean, he went to Backupsmore… I feel like they get freaky, but not Ford. Was definitely a virgin until college, but had his fair share of fun when he got there. One time took notes while watching an orgy. He had so many questions… not many were answered.

Stan: very experienced. When he was hopping from state to state trying out his brands, he was also trying out the women; he can't tell you how many times he'd got blown and ridden in the stan mobile... and he didn’t mind it.

F = favorite position (this goes without saying)

Ford: good ol’ fashioned missionary for Fordsy over here. He could give you love bites all down your body in that position for hours and probably will

Stan: doggy. He wants to pull your hair and pull your ass onto him. He’ll never get enough of watching his cock disappear inside of you, and that’s something you’ll just have to come to terms with ;)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Ford: Serious, he’s not thinking enough to joke around. He’s in a primal headspace where even if you made a joke, he’d just groan and shrug it off, getting back to work.

Stan: it depends on the vibe you’re giving off. If he feels like you’re being more playful, he’ll naturally act that way.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Ford hasn’t even thought about it; he’s clean. And yes, absolutely, he’s grey all the way. If you do mention you don’t like his body hair, it will reward you with his most embarrassed and distraught look, but he’ll trim it up without a second thought.

Stan: He knows he has a lot of hair, don’t mention it. Around his 40s, he just stopped fucking caring. He thinks it was the shoulder hair that did him in.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Ford: as intimate as you can imagine. He doesn’t just fuck Willy Nilly. He only gets into bed with someone he cares for. So there’s a lot of kissing and sweet talk from him, an ‘I love you’ every 30 seconds if you’ve said that to each other.

Stan: Again, it entirely depends on who he's with. If it’s more of a one-night stand, he’ll get a bit scared off if you’re too romantic. But if you’re together… you’re in for it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Ford: He does it to keep a straight head when he’s alone, without you, but overall, when he’s with you, he feels no need to do all that.

Stan: partook in it a lot when he was on the road, not in a way he ever did before. He did it not to think. But that was before you. When he’s away from you, he finds himself doing it while thinking about you, drifting into a fantasy where you are touching him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Ford: He hates to say it, but breeding. He can’t get enough of the primal feeling of cuming inside of you… and you don’t mind either.

Stan: cuffs. Maybe it’s all the times he’s been in them that it turns him on to be the one putting them on and deciding when they come off. (Of course, if you asked to get out, he’d do it readily)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Ford: He really quite enjoys the routine that may seem mundane to some, such as getting into bed with you each night and making love with you after a long day.

Stan: again, he doesn’t mind fucking in his car; in fact, he loves it. His seats go wayyyy back, too ;)

A/n more coming soon!

[nemisuki]

Sudden Shower

Break up AU | You didn’t realize entering a new life would affect your relationship this drastically. Maybe some things are meant to stay in the past to live in the future. 

᧔o᧓ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, no manga spoilers, pure angst, no fluff, sad but kinda open ending, aged up to 19-20, right person wrong time trope, high school sweethearts no more, time to cry, read at ur own will, 1.1k word count 

"You can't keep pushing me away when all I've been doing is trying to help you Katsuki."

The sound of water droplets echo around the couple - pitter and pattering of the rain trickle on the concrete pathway under their feet.

Small vibrations course through his hand as the storm grows more intense, both in his heart and nature taking its course, heavy downpour hitting the surface of their shared umbrella.

Her gaze roams his facial features from the side, the moonlight illuminating his red eyes, making them look more intense if even possible.

"I didn't ask for your fucking help. I'm not a kid who needs to hold your hand every step of the way."

He refuses to meet her eyes - staring straight ahead as they walk towards the agency he interns at. His voice was intense yet not to the point of yelling.

Arguments aren't uncommon these days. Growing more frequent these past couple of weeks.

The stress of newfound adulthood seeping into the cracks of their relationship.

"Yes and I understand that but you're not acknowledging my concerns! It's not like I think you're not capable, I'm worried about you. What part of that don't you get-"

He halts in his stride as she expresses her troubles - causing her to stop as well.

They both stand in uncomfortable silence, the only thing being heard is the rain around them and sway of leaves from the trees of the park.

A shortcut to the agency they found months ago.

"Don't you think I know that? That's not the point! Breathing down my neck every time we meet and constantly babying me is fucking annoying!"

"Because I care about you!"

"You never were like this before we graduated! And don't give me that bullshit of hero work being dangerous. I know what I signed up for and you knew since we started dating!"

"Did you ever think for one second from my perspective?! I barely see you these days and when I do, you're so exhausted that I have to pick up your pieces!"

"I never asked you too, I'm fucking fine!"

"You never tell me anything! Just talk to me! Why can't you admit to yourself that you need a break?!"

"I don't exactly have the pleasure to have free time Y/N. I can't just stop going on patrols because my girlfriend fucking misses me!"

The storm only seems to grow more intense as the pitch of their voices turn sharp - courtesy of their fluctuating emotions.

A chill goes up her spine as he finally turns to face her, those red orbs boring into her own.

Whether it's from the cold weather or the frustrated expression on his face, she doesn't know.

At his words she's unaware of what to say in response, thinking about the tension between them as of lately.

Her gaze wanders away from his face and down to the puddle forming beneath them.

The reflections of them two tauntingly staring back at her. A version of themselves they have yet to explore.

This isn't high school drama anymore - the new world they entered was filled with responsibilities and unfamiliar experiences.

They have yet to open the gates of their unknown future as adults but looks like they'll be choosing which path to take from here on out.

And they both knew there was only one right option.

He seems to understand what's going through her mind and grimaces at the thought.

Even if he knew it was inevitable.

The decision was like a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode after weeks of arguments, conflicts and foul exchanges.

She couldn’t constantly be distracted from her work because of the uncontrollable anxiety towards him. And he couldn’t give it his all if he had to balance his busy schedule between his work and personal relationships.

They both had problems to work on but separately. 

"....katsuki-"

"yeah i know... i know."

Before he cowers back on this decision, he gently places the umbrella in her hand, giving her one final look.

As if all his frustrations vanished and were replaced with a neutral reaction. Maybe because he’s trying to be strong for the both of them, knowing he has to be the one to end things.

That’s something that she always admired, his strength.

She’s about to apologize for not being the one to speak up but he shakes his head. Already knowing what she’s gonna say and gently patting her head.

Her heart thumping away at the small gesture.

A distant look casts over their eyes - though they both know once they look away, it will all come crashing down.

They didn't say much after that, unaware of how long they stood in the same position communicating with their stare alone.

He was the first one to move.

Turning around and beginning to walk away from her, droplets starting to absorb into the jacket he wore today.

One she bought him long ago.

"Text me when you get home at least dummy."

The serene sound of his voice made her unable to stay silent any longer, she bit her cheek as tears began trickling down her face, attempting to hold back the sobs urging to escape her mouth.

"Katsuki!" she yells out, once he's a good distance away.

Her heart is clenching so much that it hurts, her throat closing up as if her body registers that this is really it.

He hesitates but ultimately turns around, looking at her from afar.

This distance between them is so vast - both physically and emotionally.

When you love someone, set them free right? Right.

It was as if all their shared memories came flowing back to her.

Perhaps they were meant to meet when they're still young and find each other again when they're older.

Or maybe this truly is the end - only time would tell.

She musters up the best smile she could at the moment and stares at him. Many thoughts going through her mind but only one stands out.

Slowly she opens her mouth to speak, wanting nothing more then to run back into his arms and say "I love you" but-

"Thank you."

Before he could say anything back, she turns on her heels and spins around, walking away from him before she breaks down. 

Finally allowing her emotions to surface, bursting into tears as her figure goes out of sight.

She knew if he said anything more, she'd go running back to him. But you shouldn't stay on a chapter for too long, no one should stay stuck in the past after all.

Unable to see the blonde, he stands there motionless, letting the rain devour him up completely.

Streaks of water dripping down his cheeks - unaware of the difference between possible tears and the downpour coming from the clouds.

"I love you too Y/N."

Oh how much the boy hates rain. 

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

a/n ||| im sorry i haven't posted in 2 whole weeks! honestly i zone out during december but im back ૮꒰ྀི > . < ꒱ྀིა and with some angst oooo la la. idk if u guys would like more sad fics like this on my page but do lmk in the comments! sometimes u just gotta let people go to improve on urself and thats okay :) tags ||| @leleyro

[apalapucian]

1:31 AM

they moved the bed by the window two weeks ago, for something to do, for harry to watch the birds from. for them to feel closer to the world as much as the house can afford them.

james used to put two-way soundproofing charms in his room, on the curtains around his four-poster. he needed the quiet to sleep, and he needed sleep to win the quidditch match the next day. lily used to put the wireless on to drown out the world, the more mellow weird sisters b-sides echoing in the background of her dreams.

now, they welcome the clatter. they eavesdrop on their neighbors, revel in them singing and fighting and discussing, live in the pauses of their lives, in their leaving the door and coming back home and settling back in. tonight, crickets chirp and an owl hoots close by, and lily closes her eyes in content, ventures back out to the world through these sounds. sinks further into james's embrace. her head on his chest and their hands laced together. new moon tonight, but the street light permeates the room through the window. half of james's arm is bright orange.

his gryffindor hoodie is old and soft and familiar. he is warm. he is home.

"the cat learned how to knead," she tells him, eyes still closed.

james shifts. "huh?"

"the cat made biscuits today. on the couch."

"out of nowhere? are you sure?" he asks, in awe and disbelief. "it's been two years!"

"i know."

"and we researched."

a lifetime ago: going to a muggle library in muggle clothes, lily finding him so fucking cute in that environment and feeling the need to kiss him every two seconds. but also reading there that cats who get taken too early from their mothers don't learn how to knead. that some cats just don't do it. they were worried about the cat (that's just the cat's name, sirius named him) not ever doing it, but it turned out it's normal. but today —

"i had the same reaction," she says. "he seemed hesitant at first, so i thought he was just scratching it again, but it was actual kneading! he did it, like, a good five minutes."

"did you watch the entire time?"

she chuckles. "i burned my lunch, yeah."

"i can't believe i missed that."

"i can burn it again tomorrow."

he reaches up to pinch her nose. "the cat."

"you needed to see sirius."

quieter: "i did, yeah." it was driving him crazy. the house, not being able to fight. she could tell. besides, she felt it, too.

"he'll do it again," she reassures him. "he did it quite a few times after that, before you came home."

"why do you think is he only doing it now? he has no one to learn from here."

"i don't know. maybe it took him two years to feel comfortable with us?"

"oh my god, he likes godric's hollow? he likes it so much he literally summoned his ancestral abilities?"

well, at least one of us likes it here, she thinks, but doesn't say. she laughs — he does, too — and then they go quiet, and she knows he's thinking the same. knows he also chooses not to say it.

"what did you have for lunch?" he remembers to ask, and it's when he does this, asks these mundane questions about her in a way that makes it seem like it's the most important, most interesting things in the world, that she feels the biggest about him. that she feels a sudden surge of optimism, like she's bigger than the prophecy, than the war.

she says, reeling from the intensity of it, trying to stay in the pace of the conversation, "bacon." she feels like laughing at the whiplash. sometimes she legitimately thinks she's going crazy. "and, um. the last of the sourdough from remus."

"we should ask him for some more. that was really good."

"agreed."

"you okay?" of course he notices.

"yeah. sorry. i'm just — feeling it again."

"the house?" which is to mean everything that comes with it. the dread. the frustration. the hopelessness and uncertainty and unfairness of it all.

"yeah."

he holds her tighter, presses a kiss on the top of her head. "it's not always going to be this way, lil." he's said it so many times. to his credit, the conviction has held up. james is home. james is home.

"i know," she says, even though she doesn't. not really. "i know."

"i'm sorry it's the way it is right now though."

"you're in it, too."

"i know. i'm sorry still."

"hey."

"hm?"

"i love you. you have no idea how much."

he reaches up a second time to tip her face up and kiss her.

in another universe they don't need the neighbors to fight and the crickets to fucking chirp just to feel sane. in another universe the night can be dead still and it is fine. they kiss in the silence and it is fine. he goes out to meet his best friend and lily doesn't need the cat to distract her from being a hair away from a panic attack the entire time he's away, almost crippled with worry, her thoughts spiraling into images of unseeing hazel eyes and broken spectacles. in another universe she loves him and he loves her back and they make out in his old school hoodie as husband and wife, as parents, and that is all there is to it.

"i love you, too," he says, "and i'll live my entire life trying to show you how much."

she chuckles a bit. "geez. it's not a competition."

he laughs, the sound reverberating through his chest, literally felt on her skin. "if it was, i'll win. you'll see."

she will, unfortunately.

but for now there's this, home in her palm and the entire world through the window, her heart soaring and breaking at the same time.

//

[read/subscribe on ao3]

[edward-munson]

i'm right here - E.M. * Chapter Three

Warning: angst, slight mention of smut (MDI), mentions of the Upside Down, fluff

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem! Harrington reader

Word count: 6.4k

Previous Chapter

⋆˚✿˖°

You feel Eddie delicately hovering above you, one hand is cupping the side of your jawline, while the other one he uses to hold your waist. You're lying on his bed, both of you had just watched a movie, while eating some snacks and drinking wine. He rubs his thumb against your lower lip, licking his own when he notices how pink it looks under the moonlight.

His breath picks up when he decides to ghost his lips over yours, moving ever so slowly. You can't help but tug on his frizzy curly hair, it's fluffy and it feels nice to touch. When you feel his gentle peck, you close your eyes and savor the moment. It starts slow, and it burns your body.

The heat between your legs starts to grow as soon as he moves his hand from your waist and rests it over your thigh. His breath fans your mouth when he opens his mouth to finally kiss you. His tongue is hot, and it still tastes like the wine he was drinking. You grip the back of his hair and he hisses to your touch, groping and humping you. His hand starts to roam through your exposed skin, and it's inches from touching your heat.

Your underwear starts to bother you and you let out a raspy groan when both of your tongues finally touch. He moans under his breath and his crotch is almost touching against yours. Eddie shifts above you and finally uses one of his ringed fingers to feel your warmth and how wet you are under him.

It's the loud gasp that startles you from your dream, and you wake up feeling dizzy. It was just a dream.

"Shit" You mumble as you feel your heart racing. Your hands are trembling and you feel the sweat stream from your neck down to your chest.

Your legs are opened and you're definitely soaked. It felt so real, you could've sworn he was really there, touching you. As you get up from your bed, you go to the bathroom and wash up your face. This could help a little after that dream. You look at yourself in the mirror and it's like you just had sex. But you didn't, and it frustrates you that now you've gotten to the point of thinking about him even when you're dreaming.

After the gathering a few days ago at your house, you and Eddie weren't being awkward to each other anymore. You would have a small conversation during the class, and when you were sitting together during the breaks. He still seemed a little sad because of Chrissy, but looked better than he did weeks before.

You weren't sure if you should tell your brother, which doesn't seem like a good idea. Well, first because he's a guy. And second, because he's your brother. You just know how you're going to react when you're close to him, and it's going to be awkward again. You didn't want that to happen either.

So, now as you lean against the counter at Family Video, you tap your fingers incessantly over it waiting for Robin to digest what you had just told her. Steve isn't working today, so you use the opportunity to talk to her without him being nosy and inappropriate.

"So... you guys were going at it?" She asks and you nod. Robin nods and leans by your side "Wow. Munson would definitely freak out if he heard about that"

"I know. It would probably be completely weird to be around him at this point"

"Are you sure it was him? It could be, I don't know, Jonathan or that really cute guy from senior year" She tilts her head and ponders about the situation. You laugh.

"I only saw Jonathan like once, and I have no fucking idea who you're talking about" You knit your eyebrows playfully and she agrees, because you still don't know everyone from school. "It was definitely Eddie"

"Definitely me what?" Both you and Robin look astonished as he shows up unannounced behind you.

Your heart drops to your stomach as you take in his sight and you open your mouth, closing it as fast as you can. She clears her throat and gives him a nervous smile.

He's holding two tapes in his hands and looks at the two of you as he waits for a response. Eddie lifts his hands to show Robin he's returning the tapes and drops them at the counter.

"It was, uh– It was you who rented this movie! She wanted to get it as well" She picks up the first tape from the small pile and shakes it in front of you and him.

Your face scrunches up from her improvising, but he doesn't notice it.

He then looks at you and widens his eyes "Since when do you like Scarface?" Eddie seems interested in the thought of you liking these kinds of movies, but you have no idea what the hell it is about.

You shrug and look down at the tape, not wanting to stare at his eyes. It's going to remind you of your dream and you don't want to deal with that right now.

"I don't know, I can change my taste in movies. Right, Rob?" Your eyes throw daggers at her and she shrinks, slumping her shoulders, but still remaining in character.

"Yeah! Definitely, totally! I mean, I like romcoms a lot and Steve always tells me I should watch things like Terminator and shit like that" She starts to ramble and Eddie chuckles at her.

"Okay" He smiles while looking at you and shifts his weight as he looks at Robin next. You feel your cheeks burn under his stare and it's embarrassing "You want the full price or can I pay the rest next week?"

Robin agrees and takes his money, looking at you. She gives you a comforting smile, even though you feel nervous just by standing beside him. Eddie turns his face at you and smiles again.

You smile back at him, your stomach is flipping and you feel your hands sweating. Jesus, this is becoming so hard to stand. It feels as though you're a 12-year-old girl with a crush.

"If you're renting this one, you're welcome to watch with me if you want to" He points at the tape you're holding, his face showing his full grin at you.

You're still in a daze as you look at him, who waits for you to answer his invitation. He's leaning against the counter, while Robin is somewhere else. You chuckle nervously, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear as you hold the tape firmly in your hand, afraid it will fall off.

"Yeah, sure. I'd love to Ed"

He mumbles a "great" and calls out Robin by her last name and she appears from one of the aisles. You just know she was waiting for your moment with him to end so she could show up. He thanks her for the service and greets both of you with a tap on the shoulders. Eddie takes a little longer as he rubs his fingers over your shirt and cocks his head when he says "see you".

"Oh my God, you lovebirds are watching a movie together!" She says it a little louder and does happy jumps like you're still in middle school.

You laugh at her reaction, even though you still feel a little nervous from your interaction with him. Robin says you were going to be fine, that it's okay to feel nervous when you like someone.

In fact, two days later you watched the movie and you were pretty sure you hated it for the most part. Especially because you couldn't focus entirely on the story, and Eddie made sure to pay attention even though he had watched it already. He explained scenes you didn't get, and even paused it when he was away from the TV because he still wanted to be there to watch it with you.

It was in the middle of it that you realized nothing was going to happen, so you tried to feel relaxed and stopped tensing up. He noticed you were nervous, though. When he hung his arm around the couch, barely touching your arms, he could feel how rigid they were and didn't try anything.

He was nervous, too. Eddie hasn't had any movie time with anyone since he started going out with Chrissy. And he barely watched movies with her because she always had an excuse to not see them with him. It was nice to have someone like you who would accept watching it even if you didn't like it. And you told him you didn't, he laughed and said it was okay. You tried to make him believe you really wanted to watch it because you were curious, but maybe he didn't fall for it.

He dropped you off at your house when Steve wasn't there and you almost invited him over. But what for? You were so edgy you couldn't even think of something you both could do besides watching a movie. So, you hopped off his van and said goodnight. He left a kiss on your forehead before that and it made your heart flutter. This time, he called you sweetheart.

It only made things worse. You didn't know how you would handle your feelings anymore.

-

Eddie watches over his shoulder as Jason leans against Chrissy while they're sitting at a table at the library. He's working his shift after school, placing a few books on the shelf. He didn't when they came in, but he noticed the giggling she was giving to her partner. When he looked over to his right, he saw them getting pretty close to each other, almost sharing a kiss.

He silently scoffed and rolled his eyes to the back of his head. He was trying to pretend it's not bothering him how they act when they're together in public and it annoys him. Eddie doesn't feel bad because of her anymore, he feels angry at her. He's angry that she wasn't honest with him and that she's just like Jason, only he never realized it before.

Steve spent about two minutes calling out his friend, snapping his fingers beside him but he didn't hear him. Eddie was too absorbed into his own thoughts.

"Eddie!"

"What?" He answered through gritted teeth, now finally turning his head to look at Steve.

"Would you stop looking at them?"

"Yeah, sure. They're just about to swallow each other's tonsils in front of people. But yeah, of course I can" He spits over a sarcastic tone.

Steve rolls his eyes, leaning against the shelf and slapping Eddie over his head. "Don't be so fucking dumb, dude"

"I'm just... angry at them. They're absolutely ridiculous. How did I never notice that before?"

Steve glances at him with a knowing look, because he knew Chrissy wasn't meant for him, he knew she wasn't good for his friend. But he didn't want to say anything because it wasn't his right to.

Your brother rests a hand on Eddie's shoulder, comforting him. "Let them be assholes together. You're good without her anyway"

He was right, Eddie was much better without the girl who said so much shit about him before.

Steve invites him to go camping later that night, saying your other friends are also gonna be there. He ponders for several seconds, knowing the lake still gives him shivers and it triggers him, even though it's not Lovers Lake.

"Is little Harrignton going too?" He asks about you and Steve chuckles at how he calls you.

"Yeah, she will"

It makes Eddie nervous to know you're going to be there too. You've never seen him being vulnerable over something so terrifying before, even though he had to deal with his dad doing drugs and leaving him. He got over it.

But the fact he's still remembering the Upside Down and the gate deep in the lake makes his skin crawl and he clenches his jaw at the thought of it. He knows you're a little familiar with the story, but he doesn't want you to know the aftermath of it.

It's the fact that it's so hard for him to deal with, that he thinks no one deserves to deal with that either.

And so it happens. He's trapped in the blue looking Hawkins from the Upside Down. He watches from a distance when the vines from the floor wrap you and pull you down without struggling. Steve is right behind you, screaming your name as he sees Vecna floating above you. Robin tries to shoot flames at him but it only makes him stronger.

One small movement and the Demobats start flying towards Eddie. Not all of them, but a good amount of them. They immediately bite into his skin, ripping off his flesh as he screams louder than he can. Steve doesn't know where he goes. He's in the middle of the fight, deciding what he should do.

"Just go! Go save her! I'm out" Eddie yells. His breath is shaky and he tries to breathe but it's impossible.

And listens to himself screaming painfully as he sees the town crumble to ashes before his eyes. Another bite rips his skin off and he gasps, his throat burns from inside out.

You flinch when he's yelling and your first instinct is to wake him up. Eddie sat up straight, holding a pocket knife against your neck. If it wasn't for your reflex of holding his forearm, he would've stabbed you right there.

Shocked, you looked at him with widened eyes and whispered his name. "It's just me, Eddie. It's me"

His eyes are a mixture of dread, panic and relief. Even though you'd say yes, actually desperate as well, seeing what he was about to do.

You both look at each other panting, eyes fixed and still holding up the knife he was about to drop on the floor.

You hear the noise, he's shaking when he holds tight on your jawline and pulls you for a desperate hug. "Fuck, sorry. I'm so sorry, shortie. I didn't- I didn't mean it"

He has trouble breathing and you notice he's having an asthma attack. If you didn't know better, he's still carrying his inhaler in his backpack. You rush to it and hold it for him, but he's too distracted to do it himself.

You do it for him, he inhales deeply as he tries to focus on the oxygen he needs. He's still shaking really bad and you're pretty sure you're not any different from him. You open your tent so he gets fresh air, watching when Steve, Robin and the others rush to you both.

"What the fuck was that?" Nancy asks worriedly, next to Jonathan.

You don't notice when Eddie and Steve share a look, and your brother finds the pocket knife laying on the floor. You look back to Eddie, who's huddled in the corner, his knees are bent and he rests his elbows over it, covering his face.

You look so lost in the midst of the chaos. Steve helps you up and out of the tent, and Robin pulls Eddie out of it next. He walks out to the opposite direction, lighting a cigarette and nervously fiddling his rings.

"Why does he have a fucking pocket knife while he sleeps?" Was your first question when Steve stood beside you.

He sighs heavily, running his fingers through his hair. He knows why, and he doesn't want you to know why.

"Steve?"

"He, uh-" He scratches the back of his head, squinting his eyes shut.

You wait for him to give you an answer. You look away and see Eddie on the verge of a meltdown. He's definitely struggling with something.

Steve wasn't sure he should tell you. He didn't know if Eddie would accept it. But you've always been his friend, you should know. Not from your brother, though.

He motions his head to his friend, meaning you should go talk to him. You're a little apprehensive of doing so.

From the corner of his eye, he sees you approaching him, timidly. He blows the smoke far from you and takes a deep and sharp breath as you stand next to him, looking out at the lake.

"You good?" You ask, not really sure how to start the conversation.

He chuckles, nervously of course. It's not directed at you, it's because of the situation itself. He throws the cigarette at the lake and turns to look at you. Immediately his eyes become glassy and he can't hold back the huff. It's still a little hard to breathe. But what's worse than that it's the fresh memories of the nightmare he just had.

A few hours ago, when you arrived at the lake, he was pretty sure he would be just fine knowing he was with his friends. It was the first time you were doing something like that since you got back to Hawkins and he was loving it. Eddie tried to focus on having fun and doing camping stuff with all of you. He tried his best to not let the door of the back of his mind let him remember the horrors.

And he did it. Even though a few times he would look into the lake and imagine Vecna would just show up and kill all of you. He shook it off, it was going to be fine. They killed him. You were all fine.

He tried to smoke a lot less because you were there. You were the one who always asked him to stop smoking and he knew it was too hard to let go of the addiction. But for you, he would try. And he did. It was a bit difficult, but he was having fun and laughing his ass off. Playing games was helping him a lot.

Seeing you there helped a lot. For him, though, it was too complicated as well. Because he wanted to be with you, he wanted to go out with you, he wanted to be around you a lot more.

But he couldn't fathom the fact you were the only one "immune" to the whole thing. You were the only one who didn't experience anything like they did, and he wanted to keep it that way. He wanted to protect you, even if it meant not being able to see you more. Even if it meant he couldn't have you like he wished.

Now he stands in front of you. He glances at you and he sees how worried you are, how scared you were when he realized what he was doing. He sees the way you're already trying to be there for him when he doesn't want you to.

Eddie runs his fingers through his hair mercilessly and messes with the curls. He nervously rubs his hand over his chin, not looking directly at you now. He doesn't want to hide things from you, but he doesn't want you to know what happened to him before. He doesn't need to be pitied or treated differently because of that.

But he just knows that if he keeps hiding it from you, it's gonna be worse for him. Sooner or later you'd find out, and demand him an answer.

He does it like he's ripping a band-aid off.

"I have nightmares. Okay? Almost every single damn day"

His words come out bitter, and you're not sure how to react to that. You don't wanna say sorry, because he might have heard that a thousand times.

"I dream about the same thing. I dream about Vecna and the fucking Demobats. They're chewing on me. They're eating me alive" He closes his eyes and you see tears washing over his face.

"It's always so real. I feel them ripping my skin off, I feel the pain. I see Steve there, and I see our friends and they're all helpless. And tonight, it was different. Because, fuck" Eddie lets out a nervous laugh and you watch him intently. "You were there too. And I couldn't save you. I just couldn't"

You take a step closer to him, holding his shaking hands, pulling them closer to you. He doesn't want to look at you, he doesn't look into your eyes. But you stare into his soul and try to take in his pain, because you know it wasn't easy for them. You know Steve dreams about it too, he's always talking about it. But it's not even as bad as it is for Eddie.

He doesn't hold back the tears. He let them fall freely and you dry them with your thumbs. You lean your forehead against his and let him mourn. Maybe that's what he needs, someone to cry on.

"It's... so fucked up. I don't know why I have these nightmares all the time. It feels like I wasn't supposed to come back"

You close your still forcefully and whisper "shut up" to him, but he doesn't. He still complains and says how much he didn't deserve a second chance.

"Eddie, just stop. You don't need to relive it every time. You should see the therapist, get some help. Find some comfort"

He gives you a dry laugh "Easy for you to say, shortie. You don't get to be in my head every fucking day"

"You're right, I don't. But you don't deserve to be in pain and suffer whenever it happens"

You both stay silent. He's just enjoying how close you are and the way you hold his hands and how he leans against you. He tries to absorb your words and works his mind to forget what happened but it's so hard. He hears the sound of the lake and it still makes him shiver. "It's not Lovers Lake. This is not the lake of the gate. He's dead, it's all gone". He thinks.

Steve is watching you from afar. His arms are crossed against his chest and he rummages through his lower lip, because he doesn't know what you're dealing with. He likes to think Eddie is gonna be fine as long as he stays with you, as long as he's around you. He would like to see his friend happy, for once at least. For more than just a few months.

You walk in the tent again, sitting as you wait for Eddie to make himself comfortable over the duvet you spread over the floor. You offered to be the bigger spoon and he laughed. It sounded so adorable coming from him, especially now that he's vulnerable.

He lies on his side, waiting for you to spoon him as you throw an arm around him. You rest your face against his shoulder and smell him. He's always smelling like musk and cigarettes, it's really charming. Even though you hate when he smokes.

Not long after you're both lying there, Eddie shifts and turns to his other side to face you. He places his hand over your face, splaying it out and he rubs his thumb against your soft skin. You hum to the touch and close your eyes.

He likes the sight. He likes the feeling, the touch. His stomach flutters and he feels nauseous in a good way. Eddie presses his lips to your forehead and spends several seconds just like that.

He takes in your smell and tries to lock it inside his brain. When he finally pulls back, he's caught on you looking at him. You smile and he smiles back at you.

"I'm glad you're back, honey" He whispers before scooting closer to your neck, leaning his head over your shoulder as he closes his eyes and tries to sleep.

~ 

Eddie feels like everyone is looking at him somehow. He glances at the group of the party people, Jason’s group and the cheerleaders group. They’re all gossips. They’re like vultures looking for a piece of garbage, they just sneak their way into someone’s life and expose them. It’s not different this time. 

It seems like they’re whispering behind his back and he doesn’t know why. While Mike rambles about a new D&D campaign, he just keeps trying to listen to whatever anyone else is talking about. He feels his ears burn when Chrissy looks at him and giggles at her cheerleader friend. It bothers him. He whips his head and looks at the table you’re sitting in with Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and your brother, but you’re all too distracted to notice it. 

Maybe it’s all in his head, maybe he’s too paranoid over something that doesn’t exist. Jason stands from his seat, dumping the rest of his food in the trash, walking towards the aisle where Eddie is sitting. He leans back against a pillar, grinning slightly, his voice casual but loaded with an amused tone. 

“You ever wonder what it’s like to just... not sleep, Eddie? I mean, really. Or sleep at peace. That way, you’d never have to deal with those crazy dreams, right?” 

Eddie’s hand paused mid air as he lifted his fork. His heart skipped a beat. His nightmares had been getting worse, each one more vivid and unsettling than the last. Jason’s words weren’t an accident, he could tell. He hasn’t told anyone about his nightmares, his friends knew. God, even Gareth knew about them. And you were the last to know. 

But you wouldn’t do it, right? Why would you tell anyone? Jason’s smirk deepened as he continued, barely glancing at Eddie, focusing at a blank spot ahead of him. 

“I’m sure it’s tough, you know, when you close your eyes and suddenly you're not sure what's real anymore. Kind of like... Dungeons and Dragons?”

Dustin and Mike stare at each other perplexed, Jeff and Gareth do the same, and the four of them share a look. Eddie clenches his jaw, putting the fork on his plate and forcing himself to look at the blond in front of him, who had a mocking smile on his face. 

“The fuck are you talking about, you prick?” The metalhead could feel his blood pumping in his ears and his heart was beating so fast, he was almost choking on it. 

“Yeah, but it’s probably better than... waking up and realizing you're not in control of anything. It’s all just... slipping away, piece by piece.” Jason chuckled under his breath. “Wouldn’t want to live like that, right?”

Eddie shifted uncomfortably, his fingers tapping against the table. He could feel the heat of Jason’s words seeping into his skin, prickling his nerves. The basketball leader wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was mocking him. Instead, it felt like he was enjoying every second of it because his voice was too smooth, his posture too relaxed, like he had already won some invisible game.

You finally noticed it happening, you didn’t see it before because Jason was being subtle. He wasn’t being loud or conspicuous. He knew what he was doing. And you could see the way Eddie was gripping tight on the table and how the other boys were too uncomfortable on their seats. 

“Oh, God. Not again” You murmur and your friends all turn their heads to look at the scene. 

Jason was still leaning against the pillar, a smug on his face as he doesn’t actually stare at Eddie, but rather just pushes his buttons. Whatever it was, it made Eddie stand abruptly. 

He pushed his chair back with a loud scrape. He wasn’t sure whether he was more frustrated with Jason or with himself for letting him get under his skin. Without another word, he grabbed his tray and walked away, the sound of Jason’s laughter trailing behind him. He looked around carefully, and yes, most groups were looking at him and whispering whatever it was. 

Eddie didn’t spend another second in the cafeteria, rushing out and grabbing your arm forcefully during the way, leading you back to the classroom storage. He pinned you to the wall, his brows were furrowed and his mouth was closed on a line. You knew he was mad, you just didn’t know why it was directed at you.

“Did you tell them, Harrington?” Him using your last name wasn’t exactly a surprise. It was his tone that scared you.

You froze for a moment, your back still facing the wall. Your expression is a mix of surprise and confusion. “Tell them what?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about” Eddie pressed, his voice thick with frustration. “My nightmares. Did you tell people about them?”

You blinked, looking genuinely taken aback. You took a slight step back, your face turning to something like defense. “What? Eddie, no. I- I didn’t tell anyone about your nightmares. Why would I do that?”

Eddie’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t sure why it hurt so much, maybe it was because he thought he could trust you, or maybe it was the way the rumors had made their way to him, but the sting was undeniable. “Then how the hell did people find out about them?” His voice was louder now, and he noticed you flinched to his tone. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion, now your voice grew louder as you took a step toward him. “I swear, Eddie, I haven’t told anyone. I didn’t even know about them until you told me, and you never gave me permission to share that with anyone.”

Eddie’s eyes searched yours, trying to look for your features to falter. He wanted to believe you, but something in the pit of his stomach twisted as he remembered the way their eyes had shifted when they saw him.

“I- I don’t know, shortie. It’s just… it feels like everyone’s talking about it. Like they know things they shouldn’t” Eddie admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “I can’t deal with that.”

Your eyes softened, and you shook your head, your expression showing disappointment. “Eddie, I’m sorry that you’re going through this, but I promise you, I haven’t told anyone. If people know, it’s because of their own assumptions or something they overheard. I never shared anything.”

Eddie looked down, his hand running through his hair in frustration. He wasn’t sure if he felt more betrayed or more embarrassed. “I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that people know, or the fact that you think I’d believe you wouldn’t tell anyone”

Your face fell, your lips were trembling slightly. “You think I’d do that to you? After everything? After what we’ve been through?” Your voice cracked, a flicker of hurt flashing in your eyes. “Eddie, I care about you. I would never betray you like that. It’s unbelievable that you think I’d be capable of something like that.”

Your words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, the anger in Eddie’s chest deflated. He felt a sharp pang of guilt, his frustration dissipating as he realized just how deeply he’d misunderstood you. But it didn’t erase the feeling that something was off, something out of his control.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely audible now. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I just… I don’t know who I can trust anymore.”

You nod, but still you feel like you were punched in the guts. You had never told anything to anyone in that school, let alone something so personal about Eddie. And you look at him, your eyes twitching as they become wet. You didn’t want to just cry because he didn’t believe you, you felt like all these years of friendship didn’t mean anything to him. 

“Yeah, right. We’ve been friends for like, what, three weeks right Eddie?” He squints his eyes shut and takes in your sharp answer. He knows he fucked up. “I mean, why would you trust me when I’m a new friend to you?”

You don’t wait for a response as you brush past him, your shoulder pushing him out of the way. He stands there in confusion and frustration. He watches as you leave him alone and disappear out of the room. He kicks the first thing he sees and huffs a loud sigh. 

-

You hated how you wanted to avoid Eddie every day during classes, during the break, and everywhere your friends would go together. Because he was always there, you cross paths in the hallway and he throws a guilty look at you. You know he feels bad, you also feel bad for him, but you can’t stop thinking about the way he confronted you back then. 

And Eddie couldn’t stop himself from looking at you, the guilt weighing him down. Why didn’t you just trust her? he thought, frustration bubbling up. She didn’t do anything wrong. But no matter how many times he told himself that, the knot in his chest only grew tighter. That was before he found out Robin talked about it with Vickie, thinking they were alone in the bathroom. 

Turns out one of Chrissy’s friends was also there and she did what they would all do. She told them. And now almost the entire school knew about it. Robin just wanted to explain to her girlfriend why Eddie was seeming so off lately, and then she told her. She didn’t know it would end up like that. And now Eddie won’t look at her either, no matter how many times and how much she apologizes to him. 

By the time the school day ended that week, Eddie was exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. The guilt, the self-doubt, and the fear of losing you gnawed at him with every step. He watched as you slipped out the door, your pace quickening as if you couldn’t wait to leave.

He told himself he would talk to you tomorrow, that he would apologize and fix things, but deep down, he knew the longer he let this silence sink in, the harder it would be.

When you turned around the corner near the back of the school, you saw him. He was leaning against the wall, the faint smell of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. He didn’t notice you at first, his head tilted back, his eyes closed, as if the weight of whatever he was carrying was too heavy to hold up anymore.

The sight of him, smoking like this, was strange and you hated seeing him with a cigarette.

“Eddie” you said, your voice sharper than you meant.

He froze, but didn’t turn to face you right away. Instead, he exhaled the smoke and crushed the cigarette under his boot. When he finally faced you, his eyes narrowed slightly, a guarded expression on his face.

“Why are you hiding here?” 

He doesn’t look at you for a moment, he shakes his head and mumbles “Nothing”

“Don’t lie” You snap at him, stepping forward, closer to him. “You’ve been acting like a damn ghost. I’m not stupid, Eddie. You thought I told everyone about your nightmares. About what you’ve been dealing with”

“And I’m sorry, okay? I’m fucking sorry I doubted you” When Eddie finally glanced up at you, his eyes were holding tiredness and angriness. Not towards you, but at everything that has been happening. “I’m just trying to keep some distance”

Your sarcastic laugh filled the air. “You’re doing it perfectly, you didn’t even apologize after that day!”

Eddie’s face twisted with frustration, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “I don’t want you involved in this mess” he spat, voice thick with emotion. “You don’t get it. If you knew everything, it would just complicate things.”

“Complicate things?” You shook your head, stepping even closer now, too close you’re almost bumping your nose into his. “So you keep me at arm’s length, push me away, all because you think you’re protecting me?”

Eddie’s eyes flickered with something. Maybe it was regret, guilt, maybe even fear. “I didn’t want to bring you into this” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. If you knew what we've all been through, you would understand”

The roughness in his voice caught you off guard. You were angry, sure, but you could see that this wasn’t about mistrust. It was about his own insecurities. And it hurt more than anything.

“Eddie” Your voice softened as you looked deep in his eyes. “You don’t protect me by pushing me away. You don’t protect anyone like that.”

For a long moment, he didn’t speak, his eyes avoiding yours as if he was trying to figure out what to say, or if there was even anything to say. Then, slowly, he reached up, his fingers brushing against your cheek, a touch so tender it made your heart skip.

“I’m sorry” He whispered, his thumb grazing your skin softly, almost passionately. “I shouldn’t have treated you like that”

You looked at him, the anger still simmering, but there was something else too. Something softer, something that made the hurt a little easier to deal with. “You’ve got to start trusting me again, Eddie. I’m not like them. I’m not going to turn my back on you”

He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, the vulnerability in his expression too brutal to ignore. He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, almost like an instinct, he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek.

The world seemed to slow as he leaned in, his breath mixing with yours, the emotion in his gaze nearly too much to handle.

You didn’t pull away, but instead, you held your breath, your heart racing. The space between you both was nonexistent now, the pull so magnetic that it almost hurt. Eddie’s lips hovered near yours for a fraction of a second, the silence screaming louder than anything.

He almost closed the gap, if it wasn’t for Dustin’s loud shriek calling out his name. Like an instinct, you pull back and glance at each other. Your heart is almost beating in your throat and your hands are sweating. Eddie looks at you pleadingly and before he leaves, he kisses you on the forehead and trots to where Dustin is calling him. 

You didn’t even know you were holding your breath until you’re out of oxygen.

⋆˚✿˖°

@thegirlthatsfalling @strangemaximoff @readergf @sheneedsrocknroll92

[lynnaredfield3383]

Not my characters. Aged up 21. Swearing. Established relationship. Angst.

Katsuki's voice came through the line.

“I won't be home the next couple nights.”

“OK. Be safe.”

Katsuki was suddenly alert. Your voice was normal, but your response was nothing he'd heard before or ever imagined you saying. Did you know? How could you know? As fear crept in and took hold of him, he lost control.

“Look you know what hero work takes, and I wish I could be there with you…”

“Kats, it's fine. Really.”

You chuckle genuinely, refusing to comfort or dispel his uneasiness.

“I can change shifts…”

Bakugo's palms were sweaty now, and his hands were beginning to spark with nervousness.

“I took a shift tonight, so it'd be pointless. Now go get the bad guys.”

There was a brief moment of silence before he spoke again.

“Shit. You mad?” Bakugo asked.

You laughed at this and it actually calmed him completely. He knew your genuine laughs, smiles, and tones. Knew them so well, but why until this very moment had he thought he was bored of those things, of you?

Mad had never crossed your mind. Hurt, disappointed, discouraged, and done. Sure. But you'd never been mad at him. Not for a second. Bakugo wasn't cheating on you, just flirting with some woman at his agency. Though you wish he'd tell you he was ready to move on, you weren't mad. Nor were you going to hold him back. You loved him too much for that.

“Never mad. Never.”

“O-okay. I'll see you tomorrow night then?”

“Not sure. Depends on the case tonight. You know how hero work is, Bakugo. Bye.”

Bakugo had been caught on the fact you used the same line he had regarding hero work, but then he swore loudly as he realized you'd used his last name.

“Fucking fuck! Shit!”

Bakugo called you back, but it went straight to voicemail. So he started running redialing every few seconds.

As soon as you'd said his last name you knew you'd fucked up. Which is why you already left the apt. You moved all your stuff from his place into your new place a week ago. As observant as he was, he hadn't noticed because he'd only been home once in the last 3 weeks. Just to shower and grab more stuff. As soon as you ended the call, you rushed to block him, knowing he would blow your phone up in moments. You'd left the letter a week ago when you cleaned the house top to bottom the way he liked it and hadn't been back since.

“You good?” Shinso, your current case partner asked.

“Yeah, let's go.”

Bakugo was on the floor of the kitchen hot tears flowing down his face as he held the letter tightly.

Bakugo, Sorry I couldn't keep you interested. Never thought we'd end up like this, but it's obvious you have feelings for that woman at your agency. I saw you & heard you two flirting the day I dropped your lunch off. It's okay. I'm glad you found someone that makes you smile and laugh like I used to. Move on, be free, and accept that there are no hard feelings. I didn't give you a heads up because I know you'll fight for us. I don't know why, especially since you've already moved on, but that's just who you are. You never fail. You didn't fail me or this relationship. You didn't. It was just time for us to move on, and that's OK. It happens. Wish you the best always, but you need to know I can't be friends with you right now. Maybe in a few months, but let's see how it goes. Be safe, be #1 & live your life with no regrets.

Y/N

[searchforahero]

do you ever see urself un-shipping adopted family members?

no hate btw,

nope probably not :] dicktim has dug itself a place in my heart and it is pretty solidly never leaving <3

usually when i write them they're not particularly brotherly tbqh, but i've been working on a dicktim/timives fic lately where ives is. Freaked Out TM by tim & dick LOL its not done yet but here is a section from it (under the cut)

(for context i fucked up the timeline so basically tim is living in gotham, the uncle eddie stuff is happening, jack just died, tim is going to school with ives, and dick has been in between gotham and bludhaven lately. do not think too hard about how little sense that makes)

Dick Grayson is weird, and definitely not Tim's brother. It's been about a month since Tim first left school with Dick instead of taking the bus, and Dick's been coming to pick him up once every week or two since. Tim's been kind of cagey about stuff like how they met and how they got to know each other. Ives knows that Bruce Wayne was looking out for Tim while Jack was in his coma, but he had thought that Dick had been out of town for most of that.

Ives honestly doesn't know a whole lot about Dick, other than what every Gothamite knows, an orphan adopted by philanthropist Bruce Wayne, much like his guardian, he's known to be a bit of an air-head, but left Gotham to pursue policing in Bludhaven. Other than that Ives doesn't know much.

This is the first time that Ives is actually meeting the man. He and Tim had been hanging out at his apartment (which Ives still thought was super weird, who lets their sixteen year old newly-orphaned nephew live by himself? Especially in Gotham), playing Halo and talking shit.

Ives is just about to take the win when the front door goes flying open and Dick comes crashing in, calling out "Timmm, I don’t want to stay at the manor. Can I crash here?" He freezes in the hall between the entryway and the living area, presumably because he spots Ives. Ives is pretty sure he'd been about to crash forward on the couch they're sitting on before he turned the corner and realized Tim wasn't home alone.

He straightens up and smiles at Ives, says "Hey man, you're... Ives, right? Sorry, I didn't realize Tim had a friend over. I'm Tim's brother, Dick." He sticks out a hand for Ives to shake, and Ives just accepts that he'll have to take the loss this round, so he puts down his controller and shakes Dick's outstretched hand. He has a firm grip, firmer than could probably be considered casual, and his palm is covered in calluses.

Tim scoots over so he's sitting at the end of the couch instead of the middle, and waves at Dick, greeting him with "Hey man, you want to play with us?" He turns to Ives, tilts his head as if to say 'that okay?', and what's Ives going to say, 'no'? So Dick flops down on the couch, with his back to the arm rest and his legs thrown over Tim's thighs, and grabs the third controller.

They switch to Call of Duty and Dick kind of sucks at it, and after a few rounds he tosses the controller onto the coffee table and announces "I can't get used to the buttons, you'll never make me an XBox fan Tim."

Tim turns to look at him, frowns, and says "You've gotta admit that the XBox has a cooler design, like what's the PlayStation but a big hunk of plastic? The XBox has style Dick. Style!"

"Who cares about style when the PlayStation has way more exclusives man? The XBox has Halo and..." Dick mimes checking a notebook, "And yep, says here, Halo."

"And Halo is a masterpiece."

Dick pivots, shoves Tim's shoulder, tells him "Stop making that face at me, I don't care how cute you are, I'm not buying an XBox for my apartment."

And that's... That's weird right? There's something distinctly off about the way Dick said that, about the way he called Tim cute, not like an older brother teasing his younger brother, but like someone who- Ives cuts off the thought by physically shaking his head. He's not going to go speculating on his best friend's family like a jerk, especially when Tim has already lost so much.

He tries to ignore it while they keep playing, but Dick keeps poking and prodding at Tim, now that he isn't playing he's all over him, until eventually he just straight up lays his head in Tim's lap and announces that he's taking a nap.

Ives looks at Tim for any indication that he thinks this is weird, but finds none. When Tim isn't giving the TV his laser-eyed focus, he's insulting Ives' skills or brushing a hand through Dick's hair.

Ives is relieved when his dad calls Tim's apartment and tells him it's time to head home for dinner, because with Dick in the room, even asleep, he just couldn't relax like he normally can with Tim. There's something about the man that put him off.

He tries to ignore it, he's clearly important to Tim, and that's what matters, that Tim is surrounded with loved ones and friends instead of being forced to face the enormity of what he's lost alone.

[melit0n]

.

[denkies]

Omg i haven't been updating lately but guys I'm moving out of my abusive household :D it's so surreal and anxiety inducing and change is scary but i will persist!!!!!!!

[front-facing-pokemon]

[beachghoulz]

i fucking hate it when someone calls me and i miss it and there's just like no follow up text or anything