#i was terrified yesterday when i started because i though it was going to look awful

[evgar]

currently painting sadie like i said i would months ago after i finished the arthur one 🥲 (i began working on it yesterday btw!! the face barely started looking decent like an hour ago, still a lot of work left)

i usually post my wips on twitter because it's what i've been doing for the past few years, BUT now that i'm posting here again y'all deserve some too, so this one is for the tumblr folks exclusively <3

[luveline]

hellooo I have a request for Spencer x bombshell! reader (I'm not sure if you've done this before and if you have I apologise!!) but like they're on a case and one of them gets pretty badly hurt somehow & then the other is really worried about them & stuff and then I'm not sure (I think this could be good but not the way that I have spoken about it and so I'm very very sorry!!)

u r so awesome don’t worry!!

cw canon typical violence and injury

Everything is crisp and quiet at the precipice of the stakeout. You adjust your gun where it’s poised over the roof of an SUV away from a moving officer’s body. The negotiator adjusts the megaphone at their thigh nervously, waiting for Hotch’s go ahead. You’re all waiting for it. A hand raised, sending you in, hostage recovered, a long case coming to a short close. 

“Don’t forget your leg,” Spencer says to you under his breath. 

“Trust me, babe, I can’t forget it,” you say back, glancing quickly at him to your left. He’s facing forward, trained on the window where you’d last seen the unsub. The distance between you both and the danger is small, less than three feet of space. You and Spencer don’t have a clear shot, the agent’s behind you better equipped and better trained, but you can make do in a pinch. 

“Hurting?” he whispers. 

“Half as bad as it was yesterday.” 

“I have a bad feeling.” 

“Yeah?” You follow Hotch’s hand. The negotiation begins. You and Spencer don’t talk again. 

The unsub is sour, the victim terrified. When the screaming inside begins in earnest, the FBI rolls inside, confident in taking down the unsub, if a little worried about the victims wellbeing. You and Spencer sweep in less than ten inches away from each other, unafraid, and you don’t see the sledgehammer until it’s hitting you in the jaw, spraying blood like dark ink over Spencer’s pale cheek. 

—

“I don’t care if that’s what you recommend.” A drag of a soft touch somewhere on your skin. “Sincerely. I want a second opinion.” 

“It’s a mandibular fracture, we have a suitable follow up procedure.” 

“I understand, but I’m doing what she’d want me to do. When she wakes up, she’ll say the same thing, and so there’s no point in starting the paperwork for a procedure she won’t agree to.” 

“I doubt her cosmetic preferences will outweigh functionality.” 

It’s Spencer’s voice, Spencer’s hand on your leg. He’s reaching back to hold you as he defends you. “Respectfully, you don’t know her. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. She needs peace and quiet.” 

The doctor harrumphs but leaves. Quiet is restored, and for a while you doze, the only thing at your attention Spencer’s hand where it climbs. He takes your hand. You know his fingers well where they twine between yours. 

A few hours pass by in sluggish slee, the bed elevated to an uncomfortable sitting position. 

“Hey?” he asks, fingertips to the hill of your shoulder. “Are you waking up?” 

You can’t make your mouth form words. Your eyes flash open in shock.

“Hey, don’t panic. I’m sorry, I’m going to explain, but please don’t panic.” 

You wait. 

Spencer stands in a rumpled shirt, hair in his eyes, glasses slipping down his nose. “Your jaw is broken, fractured, actually, pretty badly. You’ve had so much pain relief over the last few hours I’m surprised you can even open your eyes, and it’s good you’re struggling to move your mouth because it would only hurt anyways.” He claps your arm gently. “I’m sorry. I’m not going anywhere though, okay? I’m right here.” 

That’s not what scares you; you know Spencer’s gonna stay. It’s not a question. 

Your hand strays up to your face. 

“It’s not bad,” he swears, and perhaps lies. 

“Spence,” you manage, a croak that aches and lisps at once. 

“It’s okay,” he says, leaning down. “Please don’t get upset.” 

You blink tearfully. You don’t remember what happened, just the flash of pain and now Spencer looking down at you like you’re wounded. He sits carefully on the side of your bed and grabs you by the waist, two hands on your sides and arms resting on your stomach, like a hug that hasn’t crept forward. 

“You won’t like the bruise,” he says apologetically. 

“Bad?” you whisper. 

“It’s all the way up to your eye. He also chipped two of your teeth… I’m so sorry, angel. It was my fault.” He thumbs your ribs. “I’ll fix everything. I already talked to your dentist, and tonight they’re coming back to talk about your plastics because the blow split your skin, okay? But you're mostly fixed already.” 

“‘M I… still pretty?” you ask. 

“Still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he says, not half as shyly as he’d usually would. 

You cry panicked, dribbly tears. He rubs shapes into your sides and swears again that it’ll all be okay, and it’s not that you don’t believe him, it’s just that it’s really starting to hurt. 

“Had a bad feeling,” he says, wiping your tears as gently as he can before they can wet the bandaging on your jaw.

“Did you get him for me?” you ask. 

Morgan clears his throat from the doorway to announce his arrival, a coffee cup in hand, pastry bag hanging between his pinky and marriage finger. He sounds like he’s about to laugh, “Did you, lover boy?” He beams at you. “I’ve never seen him pistol whip someone before. You would’ve loved it.”

You groan in agony. Missing out on seeing that is almost as bad as breaking your jaw. 

“I’ll recreate it for you,” Spencer promises. 

“And now it’s time for him to eat,” Morgan says, putting the pastry bag on the bed, “and get some sleep. He hasn’t slept in the two days you’ve been in here.”

“I had important stuff to take care of,” he says, rubbing your side. “While you couldn’t do it yourself.”

“Sleep,” you insist through your achy mouth.

Spencer’s eyes go soft and sad. “I will.”

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

random percy headcanons:

wants to be the photographer friend SO bad and he technically is but like 70% of the pics come out blurry or weird bc there was a monster attack in the middle of them. his instagram is truly so chaotic looking.

literally always has seashells on him someone will ask him for a pencil or spare change and he has to empty all his pockets of shells to find it. drops his backpack and a bunch of shells fall out. kicks his shoes off and sand and shells fly out and his mortal friends are like percy What the Fuck

his eyes glow underwater!! bioluminescent king. no one told him though and he didn't find out until he joined his school's swim team and terrified everyone (he managed to convince them his contacts were having a weird reaction to chlorine lmao)

he really likes art!! he doesn't just pretend to for rachel's sake he genuinely enjoys painting with her. he likes splatter paint, collages and pop art styles the best. one day after splitting some edibles they realized percy could manipulate water colors and went CRAZY with it

will ask to be excused during class and comes back like an hour later with scorch marks all over his face bleeding from one of his ears covered in dust missing three fingernails rips in his jeans and a fat lip and the teacher is like percy what the actual hell were you doing in the bathroom all this time and he's just like uhhhhhh I have ibs

the brand from camp jupiter did unfortunately (for sally) Unlock something in him lmfao he keeps getting shitty little tattoos. usually stick-n-poke but someone's friends cousin's girlfriend's brother has a gun that gets brought to parties every now and then. most of them are sloppy but you can tell what they are HOWEVER he has one that was supposed to be a seal that came out looking like one of those shitty ms paint crying memes. annabeth laughed at him for ten minutes straight when she saw it.

he wanted to dye his hair blue but he was too chicken to bleach his entire head so he just did the tips. his hair is curly though so it looks absolutely ridiculous but he loves it

percy and annabeth get a crusty little yappy white dog in college and he carries it around like a baby lmao

back to his chaotic instagram, he's got so many pics of him like, relaxing at the bottom of the mariana trench or hugging a giant squid or riding on a whale shark and his mortal friends all think he's just really good at photoshop and this is a very specific bit he decided to commit to. they're always like lol percy where do you even FIND these pictures are you subscribed to like scientific journals for the laughs? but no he just took them all on his shell phone

has an ongoing prank war with annabeth's little brothers bobby and matthew but like it's Unhinged. they're playing 5D chess and she has no idea whats going on

weird tshirts!!! he loves them! like

shit like this or those 'women want me fish fear me' shirts, anything with a funny or incomprehensible slogan is going in his closet right along with his band tees lmfao

bought estelle a panda pillow pet when she was born 🥺

can NOT bring himself to eat seafood no matter how many times poseidon has told him its fine. he's like NO these are my FRIENDS JONATHAN WAS TELLING ME ABOUT HIS GRANDDAUGHTERS WEDDING LITERALLY YESTERDAY WHY IS HE ON A PLATTER DAD. they had to give up and just start eating normal land food at the palace every time he comes to visit lmfao

gets into horsegirl antics with hazel she NEEDS to know everything the horses have to say. they spend hours gossiping in the stables.

movie nights in the poseidon cabin were 10000% a thing and when he was missing annabeth and thalia and grover (and a few others) would still sleep in there every now and then and talk about how much they miss him :(

percy and beckendorf had the worlds most elaborate handshake

he DOES impulse buy stuff just because they're ocean-themed. stuffed animals, home decor, school supplies, clothes, you name it he bought it if theres like a fish on it

has more scars from crashing off his skateboard than he does from monster attacks

grover is somehow the only person who's ever noticed percy is severely claustrophobic

has a deep passion for adele. I can't explain this one I just feel and know it to be true.

he and annabeth both proposed to each other at the same time and they were SO mad about it they kept yelling over each other's speeches lmao

he can SING but he doesn't know it. sally keeps trying to record him singing to himself but something always happens to the camera and she loses the evidence

called chiron a brony one time and mr d thought it was so funny he was nice to percy for an entire week

the camp keeps trying to convince him to teach sword fighting lessons to the younger kids but he can NOT bring himself to swing a sword at a 9 year old so he keeps getting injured

has the most complicated iced coffee order in the world his go-to local coffee shop finally just put the damn drink on the menu and named it after him

he IS the quiet kid in the back of your math class that always has his hood up to try and hide his headphones and eats increasingly elaborate meals out of his backpack when the teacher isn't looking. one time someone caught him with a rotisserie chicken in the middle of a geometry final.

he argued that he DID have enough to share with the class

currently obsessed with the image of him knocking back a container of sea salt as if it was a shot and his mortal friends being like hey! what the actual fuck! and he's just like uhhhhh anemia kills!

its his birthday<3

[sinstear]

ㅤ ㅤㅤ❝ 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐢𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮? ❞  

abby remembers the second the light in your eyes left. it was like yesterday. she remembers the night you showed up at her house, completely drenched, from head to toe in the rain, looking at her with the tears streaming down your face. even covered in rain, she could tell just how much you had been crying. she remembers how your hands shook as she helped you undress for a warm shower, and how you could barely hold the washcloth because of how cold your body felt. at first, she wasn’t sure why. why you cried your heart out the second she let you inside, how you clung to her body like she would disappear if she didn’t hold you tight enough. every piece of her broke each time you would grip her shirt in your fist, knuckles turning white, whenever she tried to pull you away just to get you in the shower, to warm you up, but you never budged. you didn’t want to let her go. ever. 

she was quick, like she always is when it came to you, when you slumped onto the shower floor and held your knees against your chest, sniffling and whimpering into your arms. she didn’t care about her dry clothes getting wet, all she cared about was you and making sure you were okay. the stream of water covers her as she wraps her arms around your body and pulls you into her chest, whispering and reassuring you that you were okay. it wasn’t until you opened your mouth and uttered a soft, “we argued about you” that her body tensed, and her eyebrows furrowed at your words. 

“me? why me?”

“why not? you’re perfect” you laughed, but it wasn’t your usual laugh she adored hearing, was used to hearing. it sounded so broken that all she could do was hold you tighter. “m’not sure, i think it makes her angry that i always come to you when m’sad, or when something is getting too much for me to handle and i never go to her. m’scared that i only trust you, and i can’t trust anyone else with my emotions,” you sucked in a deep breath and sniffled. “m’scared of my feelings, the ones i thought i had for her, the ones i have had for you for years and i hate that i keep putting all of this on you” you rambled, not fully understanding you had just admitted one of your confessions to your best friend.

abby was momentarily happy for this moment of confession because she’s been in love with you from the start, but she was also terrified. scared because right now you were too heartbroken and too hurt for her to drop the i love you bomb right onto you. “m’here for you, no matter what the problem is, you know that” she mumbled against your head. “you can bring your things to me, and i will try my best to help you through them, like i’ve always promised you.” even if it killed her to hold back her own feelings towards you.

“s’not fair on you” you couldn’t help but huff and roll your eyes at her. “m’always doing it. it just ruins everything”

“you need to stop thinking you know what’s not fair on me, and what is. that’s my decision, i won’t let you make that for me. m’here for you, no matter what is going on in your life, and in your pretty head, okay?” abby rubbed your back and placed a tender kiss on your temple when you nodded wordlessly. “now, how about we get out of the shower, i’ll find you something to wear, watch one of those shitty movies you love so much and eat ice cream?”

“i’d like that.” 

abby was gentle and patient, like she always is, when she helped you dry off after she managed to get you from the bathroom to her bedroom, clothes already on the bed waiting as you fumbled with your fingers nervously. none of you had to say anything, her actions of getting you comfortable and warm were enough to express how much she cares about you.

she doesn’t rush you to get changed into something warmer, drier even, nor does she rush you to get comfortable in her bed as she makes her way into the kitchen just to find the ice cream you both always used to eat if you had a shitty day. thankfully though, by the time she makes it back to her bedroom, her pride and joy, her safe place, she finds you snuggled up under the blankets and already scrolling through endless movies that you aren’t sure if you really want to watch. 

“did you pick one?” abby mumbled, placing her bowl of ice cream on her nightstand while passing you the other and chuckling under her breath at your soft gasp from the coldness of the fine china. “careful, it’s cold”

“funny,” you grumbled playfully and snuggled more into her bed. oblivious to her soft eyes watching you. “but thank you, and no, i haven’t picked one. they all look boring.”

abby doesn’t reply, just makes herself comfortable on the other side of you on her bed, your body on instinct snuggled more up to her side and slumped your head on her shoulder as you scooped up ice cream and shoved it in your mouth with subtle sniffles. “you feel better?” she couldn’t help but ask into your hair. 

“a little, thank you for being here” you sighed and rubbed your eyes with your free hand. “s’not what someone’s night should be like, always having to fix me and put me back together again, but thank you.”

pressing her lips to your temple, abby doesn’t feel the way you sag more into her body, nor does she feel the heat rising in your cheeks at such a simple action. she’s forgotten all about her ice cream, as you eat yours and keep your eyes locked on the tv, still undecided on which move you’re going to watch. “hey,” abby whispered. 

“hm?”

“i love you,” the meaning to abby was deeper than you’d ever know, but she wasn’t going to place something else on you while you were already dealing with a broken heart. so instead, she wraps her arm around your waist and kisses your head again. her thumb brushing against the skin on your hip that had you sinking more and more into her with each touch. “which means m’always going to be here for you. during the good and bad. i will do my best to help and guide you through the bad days, but there for you, supporting you through the good ones too. i just want you to be happy, and i will make sure i can help you get there. always. i love you.”

because loving you is the easiest thing she’ll ever have to do.

[thesongoficeandfir3]

The burning mill, the family affair, and the forbidden love

Benjicot ‘Davos’ Blackwood x Fem!Bracken!reader

A/n: Based on the show version of the battle of the burning mill p.s currently working on part 2 of my first story 😋

Warnings: heavy angst, gore, descriptions of wounds, blood, smut is alluded but not described. Lmk if I missed anything

The sound of swords being clashed and men crying out in pain filled the air of the area that joint Bracken and Blackwood’s land. Blood dripped down from the tip of Benjicot's long sword as he looked at the carnage around him, his breathing rapid and ragged. What had started as a small dispute between the Brackens and Blackwoods turned into a full out bloodbath.

He had lost count of the number of Bracken men he had killed. His sword arm ached and trembled while his entire body felt like it was on fire. His body was begging for a moments rest, but Benjicot refused to give into his bodies wishes. He only had one thing and one thing alone on his mind and that was to find you.

As Benjicot struggled and pushed his way across the field he passed many dead or dying men, many of them being his own. They were the same men he knew since he was a boy. He grew up with them, drank with them , laughed with them… his heart ached at the sight, but still he wouldn’t stop moving. He couldn’t stop because not being able to get to you first ached his heart even more.

Benjicot grunted as a sharp, excruciating pain shot through his leg, taking him down. He looked down and saw the leg wound he had sustained earlier had gotten severely worse. The first few moments he got it, Benjicot believed it to be nothing more than a small cut, but now it was bleeding profusely from a deep gash. This along with many other fatal injuries Benjicot could already label himself a deadman. Despite that however….despite the pain he still pushed himself up, stabbing his sword into the wet soil for support and kept going forward. No matter what he was going to get to you even if it killed him.

He knew you were here and fighting. Being the only daughter in your family and growing up with five older brothers you had learned to use a sword and fight.

Benjicot never liked it, not because he didn’t believe a woman should hold a sword but because he was terrified of a day like this one.

He still remembers that night as if it was yesterday. It had been a week since you two finally confessed your feelings for one another despite being from rival houses. It was late at night and you two were deep in the forest far away from both of your families lands. Your naked bodies intertwined laying on a blanket on the forest floor, coming down from your high.

You broke the comfortable silence by saying whenever the day came you’d be fighting with your family, you’d be fighting as a Bracken. Though you loved Benjicot you couldn’t come to terms with the thought of slaying your own family. You knew the moment was not the best time to say something like that, but you had been wanting to say that the moment you realized you loved Benjicot. You wanted to tell him sooner rather than later so it wouldn’t feel like a betrayal. Benjicot didn’t get upset when you said it, for he felt the same he couldn’t fathom slaying his own blood.

You both knew deep down a war between your houses was inevitable. It was not a matter of if, but when.

Despite knowing that however, ever since that day you two never spoke about your family feud when together, as if not speaking on the matter would have prevented the inevitable.

When he finally spots you in the distance, he sees you fighting off a Blackwood man. You would’ve been dead a long time ago since the man was a bull compared to you, but his injuries were far worse than yours. This caused some of his movements to be sloppy and predictable. At this point the Blackwood man had looked like a walking corpse, but he was content on taking you down. It seems he wished for the satisfaction for taking down one more Bracken before the Stranger came for him.

Though he was in worse shape than you, he still managed to stab you in your stomach twice, missing your vital organs by a hair, but still driving the sword deep enough. He raised his sword again ready to go for the final blow. In the moment It seemed like he would have gotten his death wish when suddenly a Bracken man charged towards the Blackwood man, tackling him and causing them both to fall into the river with a large and loud splash. The murky river water slowly turned into a deep shade of crimson as the two men sank to the bottom from their heavy armor.

Once your attacker was gone, your knees buckled and you fell to the ground clutching your wounded stomach. The feeling was warm and sticky and the strong scent of iron filled your nose. Your body trembled and your breathing became heavy. You can feel your heart race quickens as your body desperately attempts to produce more blood than what was being lost rapidly.

You looked down to see how bad your wounds were and was met with the blood staining the gold color of your clothes a darker hue. Your house sigil, the horse, unrecognizable as the blood quickly continues to spread. Knowing there was no hope for you, you allow yourself to lay flat on the ground, staring up at the sky as you wait for death to overcome you.

Benjicot watched as your opponent was struck down before you slumped to the ground. His body had by far reached its limits, but seeing you in that state gave him a wave of adrenaline. He quickly limped as best he could towards you, pushing through the pain of his injury, desperate to reach you.

When he finally reached you, he could see like him you had sustained some injuries all over your body, but it was nothing compared to your stomach wounds. He dropped down to his knees, gently putting his trembling hand on your stomach wound. He presses down on the wound to slow the bleeding, but it attempts were futile as it seemed the blood was coming out even faster.

Benjicot was slowly starting to weaken, all the adrenaline starting to wear off. His wounds were bleeding heavily as well, the blood from it mixing with yours. Still he refused to take his hand off your wound despite his weakening state.

“Ben.” you choked out, your eyelids becoming heavy as you looked up at him, trying to get his attention.

He didn’t look at you, too focused on your wound. It was obvious that neither of you were going to survive, but he still stubbornly tried to stop the bleeding. He desperately wanted if any of you, it be you who lived to see another day.

“Please Ben,” your hand reached his on your stomach weakly trying to pry them off. “I’m so cold,” you say looking up at him through teary eyes, your once beautiful s/c slowly turning pale. “Please just hold me I’m so cold you.” You whimpered out trying your best convince him to stop saving you. You didn’t want either of your final moments wasting time on a lost cause. He finally looked at you, his green eyes filled with sadness as he slowly removed his hand from your wound.

He pulled his cloak off his shoulders and wrapped it around you tightly, trying to give you the warmth your body was no longer able to provide for you. Despite his own pain, he carefully lifted you into his lap and cradled you against his chest, holding you as tightly as he could, his arms wrapping around you as though he could protect you from death itself.

He held you closely, doing his best to transfer his body heat to you to keep you warm. He buried his face in your hair, his breathing ragged and labored. He could feel his strength slowly slipping away, but he didn’t let go of you. Using what little strength he had left, he used it to hold you in a tight warm embrace to ensure you he was there.

As Benjicot holds you familiarity surges through you. You suddenly remember all those cold nights where you found comfort, warmth and safety in his arms and now you realize you’ll never experience that again.

“Ben…..I don’t want to leave you- please I don’t want to go.” Tears streamed down your face, your body so weak you couldn’t even lift your head to look at him as you spoke.

He could hear the fear and despair in your voice, mirroring the same feelings within himself. He wanted to comfort you, to tell you everything would be okay, but he knew it would be a lie. Instead, he just tightened his grip on you, pressing you closer against his chest.

"I’m here," he managed to gasp out, his voice strained. "I’m not leaving you, I promise. He says gently trying to calm you. He could not save you from death, but he could at least promise you won’t be going into it alone.

“I love you Ben… I love you so much.”

"I love you too," he murmured, his voice filled with love and pain. "More than anything."

There were still a few standing survivors from both sides of your family struggling against one another, despite more than half of the field being filled with Blackwood and Bracken corpse. The sound was muffled but you still heard it and you remember why you’re in this situation in the first place.

“I wish our families-”

"I don’t care about our families,” he cut you off. “All that matters is that we’re together. You’re the only thing that matters."

As Benjicot says that you allow yourself to completely relax. He was right, being with him in this moment was the only thing that mattered. The generational feud in your families did not.

He then felt your body grow limp in his arms, your final breath leaving your lips. He pressed a long and gentle kiss on your forehead as tears began streaming down his cheeks. He felt himself grow weaker, his own strength slowly slipping away. With one final, laboured breath, he whispered your name, his voice hoarse and trembling, before his grip on you loosened and he too was gone. The last thing he saw was your beautiful face, peaceful in death.

The two of you remained in each others arms, your bodies lifeless in the aftermath of the battle. Despite the chaos and carnage around you, there was a sense of peace in your final moments together.

It was an odd sight the lord and lady of the rivaling houses, the houses that used the Targaryen conflict just to slay one another, finding peace in each other’s arms. Your deaths, although tragic, would be a testament to the indomitable power of love that can transcend even from the most deep seated of hatred.

[superprofesh]

The Five Times Colt Seavers Almost Kisses You (and the One Time He Does) — Part 6 (Final)

Pairing: Colt Seavers x reader

Description: The one time Colt Seavers kisses you — or, rather, the first time.

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.6k

Tag List: @strangedeerconnoisseur, @icantwaittoliveandlearn, @moonlightandstarshimmer, @chemococktailonthehouse, @1word (sending directly to the rest because Tumblr isn't cooperating)

Author’s Note: Well, folks, we've come to the end of this fic, and I hope it's everything you've all been waiting for. I can't express how much your kind words and amazing feedback has meant to me, and it has truly shaped this fic in more ways than you know. I'm really going to miss writing this fic, soooo........ if y'all are interested in a little epilogue, I'm up for that ;) Thank you all, and I hope you enjoy!!

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Colt can’t get out of the camera crew’s station fast enough. He’s been searching for you all morning, but Holly finally pressed a note in his hand, telling him that you asked her to pass it on to him. He instantly searches for a quiet place where he can read your note, dreading what it might say.

Yesterday shook him up, in more ways than one. Staring down the headlights of a train while Elijah Gordon pushed him to stay a few more seconds was terrifying even for him. Seeing you engage in a showdown with Gordon himself in front of the entire crew was so completely unexpected and selfless that he hasn’t been able to get it out of his mind. No one has ever stood up for him like that.

The more he’s thought it over, the more he’s realized that he’s been blind. Blind to your feelings, blind to your sincerity, blind to the fact that he’s been on the verge of his sweetest dream come true. He’s been pushing you away because he thought he wasn’t good enough for you, but after what happened yesterday, he’s starting to realize that doesn’t matter.

He keeps remembering the look in your eyes when you were in the tent together. The gentle way your fingertips stroked his hair, the soft skin of your neck against his lips, the way you held him as if he were designed to fit in your arms. If your fierceness in defending him didn’t convince him that he needed to wake up and confess his love for you, the heated look in your eyes did. His plan upon finding you has been to simply pour out his heart and see if you’re still willing to accept him after everything that’s happened.

Colt finally finds an empty bench a few stations down from the camera crew, and he unfolds your note carefully. A gentle smile crosses his lips when he sees you’ve scribbled it by hand, your artistic handwriting scrawled in green ink across a piece of office paper. The smile slowly fades, though, as he scans the contents of your letter.

Dear Colt,

I’m sorry to leave without saying goodbye, but I figured we’ve already said a lot of things that are more important than goodbyes. I want you to know that I’m not leaving because you hurt me or because I’m angry with you. I just think it’s best this way, for both of us.

I quit my job last night as Gordon’s set director. After everything that’s happened, I just can’t work for him. I’ve already had a few offers back in L.A., so I’ll be fine. I wish you the best as you finish the movie. You really are the best stuntman in the business, and I hope you stay safe.

I’ve already told you most of what I feel, so I won’t beat a dead horse any more. Still, in case I haven’t told you enough, I want you to know that the time I’ve spent with you has been the happiest I’ve had in a long time. I don’t know why you’re so dead-set on believing you’re not good enough for me. That thought has never entered my mind and never will. You’re the best person I know. When I look back on my memories of love, I will always think of you. Whatever you think you’d be holding me back from, it doesn’t matter to me half as much as you do. Please believe that.

I wish you all the best, and I hope one day our paths might cross again. Until then, thumbs up and happy landings.

Colt squeezes his eyes shut once he’s finished reading the letter, fighting the urge to crumple the piece of paper into a ball. How could you have been so stupid? his inner monologue chides him. How could you not have recognized unconditional love when it was staring you in the face?

The memory of your touch hits him like a knockout punch. Suddenly, every moment the two of you have shared comes back to him in excruciating detail. Smudging paint on each other’s faces. Walking you back to your hotel room. Flirting with you at the club. The look in your eyes when you ran to him after the train stunt. Your hands on his face, in his hair.

Setting his jaw, Colt glances at his watch. 7:42 AM. If he can figure out where you’re leaving from, he can catch you in time. There are a lot of things he needs to say before it’s too late, and now, for the first time, he’s ready to say them.

He folds the paper, tucks it into his pocket, and starts running.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You grip your steering wheel with white-knuckled hands. The sun has already risen over the mountains in the distance, but the beauty of the landscape is the furthest thing from your mind.

You can’t believe you actually left. You’ve never quit a job before, especially one as high-profile as this one. But you just couldn’t take it. You couldn’t work for someone who would so carelessly risk the life of one of their employees. Especially when you happen to be in love with that employee.

You haven’t told anyone but Holly (and Gordon, of course), and she understood. She also promised to pass along your note to Colt.

Writing that note is the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. You wrote eight versions of it before settling on the one you passed to Holly. The most painful part was knowing that that note may be the last time you ever communicate with Colt. Saying exactly the right thing was vital, and you finally felt satisfied with the ninth version, which included a lot less poetic verse and a lot more explanations of why you were really leaving.

The airport is looming on the horizon, and a wave of emotion sweeps over you, biting at the backs of your eyes. What was the point of knowing him if this is how it has to end?

You can’t stop replaying your memories with him as you pull closer to the airport parking lot. Things started out so simple and easy between the two of you — making each other laugh, sitting together at lunch, cheering on each other’s projects — but once the tension between you started heating up, maintaining a friendship has seemed almost impossible. You thought you could handle it, but it turns out you’re not strong enough to face Colt every day if you can’t express your love for him openly.

You pull into a parking space, facing the vast grassy field that leads to the plane runway. A passenger jet soars into the air, leaving a trail of jet stream behind. You’ll be aboard one of those planes within the hour, and maybe when you get to L.A., you can leave all your sorrows behind you.

You’re still trying to muster the strength to climb out of the car and drag your suitcase to the airport, when something… odd catches your eye. On the busy street leading up to the airport entrance, a vehicle is moving too fast to be driven by a normal person. The truck rounds the corner to fly up the airport drive at top speed, and your heart constricts.

That’s Colt’s truck.

All your attention is suddenly laser-focused on that familiar GMC pickup, and before you know what you’re doing, you’ve leaped out of your car and started running as fast as you can towards the driveway. A few seconds later, Colt’s truck pulls to a stop on the side of the drive, and he jumps out without even bothering to turn the truck off.

The fifteen seconds it takes you to get halfway across the grassy field feels like an eternity, and by the time you’re halfway, Colt has already cleared the distance. He sweeps you into his arms, holding you off the ground as you try to catch your breath, completely overwhelmed by this grand gesture.

He came for me. He couldn’t let me leave without saying goodbye. It’s not over yet.

You’re content to stay like that, suspended off the ground and feeling his heartbeat pound against your chest, but Colt carefully sets you back on your feet and holds you at arm’s length. His face is a jumble of a thousand emotions, more than you’ve ever seen from him in all the time you’ve known him. He’s breathing hard from his enthusiastic sprint across the greenway, but his eyes are illuminated by his excitement at catching you in time.

“Colt—” you start, gripping his forearms as if he’s going to disappear.

He shakes his head, cutting off whatever you were about to ask. “I’ve been wrong. I’ve been so wrong.”

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief, trying to make sense of his words. “Colt, how did you find me here?” you ask.

“I got your note,” he tells you. “Holly told me how to find you.”

“Don’t you have to be on set?”

“Actually, I’m not filming anymore.”

You can’t hide your confusion. Colt isn’t working on the movie anymore? What kind of insane coincidence could this be? “What?” you squeak, gripping his arms even harder. “Please tell me you didn’t quit because I did!”

Colt shakes his head, which relieves you. “Tom quit the movie last night,” Colt explains, his eyes never leaving yours. “Called Gordon and told him he was sick of taking orders and wasn’t working for him anymore. I’d say it had something to do with you taking Gordon to task yesterday,” he adds with something that sounds a little like humor. “Tom doesn’t want something like that reflecting badly on him.”

You laugh in pure disbelief, amazed at the turn of events you could never have expected. “Well, I never thought I’d be grateful to Tom Ryder for anything,” you say honestly, and Colt laughs with you, genuine joy behind his eyes. You search his face for answers about why he has rushed to the airport to see you. You begin, “Listen, you didn’t have to come all this way just to tell me—”

“I did,” Colt says definitively. “Believe me, I did. Because what I have to say isn’t something that can be done long-distance.”

Your heart drops. This is it. After all this time, you’re about to hear the words that you know are true, the ones you’ve been waiting for, from his own lips.

“Colt…”

Colt takes a step backwards, his hands falling from your arms to hold your hands between the two of you. The look in his eyes can only be described as utter sincerity.

“I have been so wrong about selling you short,” he says softly, emotion threatening to break through his voice. “I keep putting you on this impossibly high pedestal and believing that you’re way too good for me. I thought you could never feel what I feel because I don’t see myself the way I see you. To me, you’re every wonderful thing that ever existed.”

Tears spring into your eyes at his words, so totally without guile. “Are you serious?” you whisper.

“Absolutely serious.” His eyes blaze with an intensity you haven’t seen before, and his grip on your hands grows tighter as he says, “Listen, I’ve never said this to anyone in my life, but… I love you.” Colt stops, his voice catching in his throat when he sees the tears streaming down your cheeks. “I’ve been in love with you since the first time I saw you on set painting that triple-sized stop sign.” You both laugh at the memory, relieving some of the overwhelming emotion.

He keeps going. “I’m so in love with you it actually scares me,” he finishes, “because nothing has ever meant so much to me as getting this right. I can’t keep holding it back, and you deserve to know. It’s killing me.”

“Colt…” It’s as if you’ve forgotten every word but his name.

Still, Colt presses on, trying to get three months’ worth of communication out in three minutes. “I’m not asking anything in return,” he tells you insistently. “If you still want to go, I won’t stop you. You don’t need to say or do anything, but I just had to get this out. After yesterday, with the train stunt almost going wrong, and you telling Gordon off, and then when you told me you love me and want to be with me no matter what, I don’t know… it just sort of woke me up.”

Your eyes brim with tears again, and you squeeze his hands, giving him an encouraging smile to keep going. You can feel his pulse in his hands, flying as fast as the jet planes soaring over the nearby mountains.

“I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want you to be stuck with a guy like me.” Colt can’t seem to stop the avalanche of words spilling out of his mouth, every one as sweet as honey to your ears. “I keep imagining this amazing future for you and thinking that I’m only going to hold you back and get in the way. I’m still not sure it wouldn’t be that way, but… I’m not the only one who gets to make that decision.” His voice thickens with emotion again. “No one has ever cheered me on the way you do. No one has ever supported me with everything I do, and made me feel like I actually have a chance at real love. But you’re different. You make me feel like I can do anything, and if you still want me after all we’ve been through, I’m yours.”

The look in Colt’s eyes is enough to make your knees feel weak, and you throw yourself forward to steady yourself, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. Colt’s instant embrace is more welcome than you could have imagined.

“Of course I want you,” you whisper in his ear. “Just you, no strings attached.”

Colt holds you against him for a few moments, long enough that a plane takes off from the landing strip and zooms far enough away that it doesn’t drown out his words. Finally, carefully, he pries himself out of your arms and holds you at arm’s length, his hands on your waist. “Look, I can’t promise that it’ll be easy,” he continues in a rush. “I’m a stuntman. Life is scary and dangerous and all that.”

“I don’t care about that,” you answer honestly, beaming through your tears. “If it’s what you love doing, there’s nothing I want more than for you to do it. I can handle it.”

“It’s not just that. I’ve never… I’ve never had a serious relationship before. Everything will be new for me, and I’m going to make a ton of mistakes.”

Colt’s eyes are misty, too, and your heart is so full of joy that it feels like it will burst. You know it must be radiating from your face, because Colt starts grinning back at you, seeming to sense how much you’ve been aching to hear these words from him.

“So am I,” you insist, your hands fluttering back and forth from his face to his shoulders over and over. “Mistakes are just part of a relationship. As long as we communicate and stay committed, we’re not going to fall apart just because of a few mistakes.”

Colt nods, flexing his fingers against your waist as his smile overtakes his entire face. Still, he doesn’t lose control: he seems to be holding back until he’s finished saying everything that’s been building up over the months. You’re more than happy to let your gaze wander over his wonderful face, to bask in the fact that Colt Seavers loves you back and isn’t going to let you go.

“There’s one more thing,” he says gingerly. “I… I don’t really have a lot of grand aspirations for the future. I’m a stuntman because that’s what I love doing, but there aren’t a lot of ways to move up the ladder. I’ll be doing stunts until I’m dead or until I can’t anymore, so basically, my future is just to be a working-class guy. I’ll just be an unknown stuntman.” He hesitates at the end of his speech, as if he honestly believes this could be a problem for you.

You want to laugh in sheer glee, but you hold back so Colt won’t think you’re taking his seriousness lightly. “If that bothered me,” you inform him, moving your thumbs lightly against the sides of his neck, “I would never have fallen in love with you in the first place. Colt, I’m not exactly shooting for the stars myself as a set decorator. Sure, I may have a chance to work on even bigger films, and it can always open up some new opportunities, but I’m not doing this to climb the ladder either. If we’re both working-class professionals for the rest of our lives, that’s fine with me. As long as I have you in my life, I don’t care what kind of life it is.”

Colt’s eyes finally brim over with the tears he has valiantly been holding back. His hands are trembling against your waist, and he ducks his head so you won’t see how much this confession has affected him. You pull him close to you again, resting your head just below his chin while he squeezes you tightly enough to take your breath away. This is what heaven must be like.

He’s whispering something against the top of your hair, so low you can barely hear it. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I do,” Colt replies, the regret in his voice obvious. “I haven’t been able to make up my mind about what to do because all this has been in the back of my head. I should have just come clean with you the first time you ever let me know how you feel.” He lifts your head with his fingers under your chin, meeting your tear-stained gaze with one of his own. “It would have saved you all this heartbreak,” he whispers.

You smile up at him, resting your hand on his cheek. “What’s love without a little heartbreak?” you tease him. “That’s how you know it’s real.”

Colt finally returns your smile, his shoulders relaxing as if he suddenly believes that this is real. “I promise I won’t break your heart again,” he says solemnly.

“I believe that.” And you do.

Colt is looking into your eyes with all the passion of the ocean in a storm, and you can feel the blush in your cheeks building just from the way he’s looking at you. You’re suddenly hyper-conscious of his hand that’s still resting under your chin, tilting your head back to look deep in your eyes. The hand that is slowly, ever so slowly, bringing your face closer to his.

Colt hesitates for a moment when your lips are just inches apart. You’ve been here so many times, so close to a kiss, and have parted every time. This time, however, you know his heart is beating for you alone, and you feel like you have all the time in the world to savor this moment.

His gaze flickers down to your lips, and his breath seems to double its pace as he considers what he’s about to do. He lifts an eyebrow at you, as if asking, Are you ready? Your smile tells him all he needs to know, and finally, finally, Colt closes the endless distance between you.

The moment your lips meet his, your heart whispers, This is what you were made to do. Colt’s kiss is everything gentle and passionate, his lips moving slowly against yours in a rhythm that is so incredibly natural. His hands find landing spots on your back when you tighten your arms around his neck, pressing yourself against him as he deepens the kiss.

Every last circuit in your brain is exploding in the sweetest way possible. Is this how it’s supposed to feel? you wonder, and Colt pulls away from your mouth at that exact moment, fixing his eyes on yours with an expression that tells you he’s wondering the same thing.

The separation only lasts a moment, though, because now that Colt has had a taste of your lips, he can’t get enough. He kisses you again, and again, and again, and again, until you’re both so out of breath you wonder if you’ll ever recover. His hands move up and down your back, clutching your body so tightly against his that you’ve started breathing in rhythm with each other. You can taste salt on his lips, and you have no idea if it’s from your tears or his.

Just when you think you’re about to drown in the sweetest possible way, Colt presses one more soft kiss against your lips, then pulls back so you can breathe. You find yourself gasping for air and aren’t surprised to see him doing the same. Your hands stay on his shoulders as they heave up and down, and he doesn’t loosen his hold on you for a second.

“Colt…” you sigh, your lips feeling like they’ve actually changed shape, “I’ve dreamed about this so many times. You have no idea.”

He inclines his head toward you, resting his cheek against yours. His beard scratches your skin in a way that sends a delightful shiver down your spine. “Me, too,” he whispers against your cheek.

“Promise me this is real.”

“It’s real,” Colt assures you, dipping his head so he can press a kiss against the skin right below your ear. “Realer than anything I’ve done in my life.”

You feel like your body is about to sail into orbit at the contact, and you grip Colt’s broad shoulders even harder as his lips move down your neck, across your throat, down to your collarbone. You know you’re making breathless sounds that betray how much he’s exciting you, but you are far past the point of caring.

With every kiss, it’s as if Colt is repeating the words he said just a few moments ago: I love you. I love you. I love you. One of his hands moves from your lower back to cradle your chin, tilting your head to the side to give him better access to your neck.

“I’ve been aching for you,” he murmurs close to your ear. “Burning for you.”

His words inspire an entirely new shiver down your spine, one that makes you stand on your toes and arch even further into his arms. All you can manage to choke out is, “I love you so much… so much…”

You slide one hand into his hair, remembering how he reacted the last time you did that. Right on cue, Colt lets out a soft sound that makes every inch of your skin erupt into goosebumps. He goes still in your arms, his mouth still on the curve where your shoulder meets your neck. You run your fingers through his hair with firm but gentle strokes, reveling in the way he seems to melt in your arms.

After a few moments of it, Colt finally straightens again, his intense gaze locked on your face. You leave one hand in his thick hair and let your other wander to his face. Using just your fingertips, you trace his forehead, his cheekbone, his nose, his lips, his jaw, everything you’ve been dying to touch. Colt’s eyes flutter closed at your touch, as if he’s about to come undone right before your eyes. Your heart leaps when he leans his head to the side, leaning in to your touch.

You choose to copy his actions, rising up to press your lips to his pulse point, right below his neck. The way Colt’s hands on your waist flex in response tells you you’ve found something he likes. You trail your way up until you’re peppering kisses behind his ear, then on his cheek, on his nose, on both his closed eyelids.

At the sensation of your kisses on his face, Colt opens his eyes and smiles at you. It’s a new smile this time, one that speaks of a new emotion he’s feeling for the first time. Peacefulness. Assurance.

Colt raises his hands to frame your face, tucking the strands of hair that he’s pulled loose back behind your ears. His voice breaks when he says softly, “I may never find the right words to tell you how I really feel about you, but I promise I’m going to take every opportunity to try.”

You rest your hands on his chest, grinning as you reply, “We’ve got the rest of our lives for you to think of the right words. I’ve heard all the ones I need to know what you mean.”

Colt’s eyes are brimming over with the love he’s been demonstrating, the adoration, the gratitude, the sheer bliss of sharing this moment with the one person he’s been waiting all his life for. “You’re everything to me…” he murmurs, lowering his lips to touch yours again. “I’ve never…” he restarts, only to interrupt himself with another kiss. “No one has ever…”

He doesn’t even try to finish the last sentence, and your lips are meeting in a gentler kiss, one that calms the fire you’ve been building for the last little eternity. His lips are so soft against yours, coaxing things from you but never demanding. Colt’s hands stroke through your hair and down your spine, holding you close against his chest protectively. You can feel every breath he takes, every movement that reveals how wrapped up he is in feeling you with him.

Another deafening jet plane roars over your heads, but neither of you take the slightest bit of notice.

Colt finally slows your kiss down, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth and leaving one of his hands to tangle in your hair. He doesn’t pull away, just lets his lips linger on your jaw, as he asks casually, “So, Sofonisba, are you still flying out?”

“Sofonisba?” you repeat, words slowly drifting back into your brain.

“I was running out of artist nicknames,” Colt explains, a husky edge still noticeable in his voice. “Had to look that one up.”

You grin at him, though he feels it rather than sees it. “I don’t have to fly out. I don’t exactly have somewhere to be.” You snuggle closer to him, not quite ready to leave his comforting embrace. “Haven’t even gotten my ticket yet.”

Colt hums in approval at that, the sound lingering on your skin. “In that case,” he suggests softly, “what do you say to some coffee?”

“Can’t think of anything I’d like better,” you say honestly.

Colt returns your smile, pulling you forward for one last, reverent kiss to your lips. Then he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and the two of you gaze off into the distance, where another plane soars into the sky over the mountains.

You don’t know what lies ahead for you, and you know Colt doesn’t either. But you are assured of one thing now, and that is that you’ve found the man you were made to be with. All it takes is one glance up into his eyes to know that he’s confident of the same thing.

That’s more than enough for you.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Epilogue

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part three)

(part one)(part two)

Everyone’s left to “let him get some rest,” but Eddie doesn’t rest, not really. Although he does drift off the second he closes his eyes, his sleep is not restful and his dreams are plagued: 

Chrissy Cunningham stood in his trailer, small blonde girl in her cheerleader uniform. If Eddie hadn’t only just come out of his room with an unopened baggie of ketamine, he might’ve thought she’d already overdosed. Her eyes were rolled back, body frozen stiff like she was having some sort of seizure. Eddie shouted at her, shook her shoulders, waved his hands and snapped his fingers in front of her face, but Chrissy didn’t respond. He feared she might collapse, but then she did something much, much worse: she began to levitate. 

Eddie immediately let go of her shoulders and scrambled back as some invisible force slammed the girl into the ceiling. Her bones snapped; one at a time, her arms and legs twisted in unnatural angles. Her jaw unhinged and cracked out of place, her mouth now stuck in a horrible, soundless scream. Her eyes bled, dripping red down her cheeks, and then they exploded, popped with a sickening squelching sound, and her eyelids caved in to empty, bloody sockets.

Eddie wakes up screaming. His heart pounds frantically, the monitor beeping like crazy, and all his muscles are tense like he’s ready to run. 

Someone is at his side immediately; a gentle hand slips into his own, a soothing voice asks if he’s alright and tells him it’s okay, he’s safe now, it was just a nightmare. Eddie recognizes that hand, that voice, that shape in the dark. When did Harrington come back?

Eddie’s gasping, struggling to inhale a proper breath into his fear-frozen lungs. His wild eyes dart over the figure sitting beside him before landing on the hand that’s curled around his. Harrington must misread something in his expression then, because he mutters, “Sorry,” and starts to pull his hand away.

“No,” Eddie manages, instantly grabbing the other’s hand again and gripping it tight. “Keep- keep holding onto me.” 

“Always,” Harrington whispers, the word an exhale under his breath, so soft Eddie thinks he may have imagined it. 

Harrington rubs his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. His touch is calming, grounding. Eddie’s breath begins to even out and his heart returns to a normal pace as his residual panic slowly dissipates. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he sighs heavily once he’s recovered a bit. He presses his free hand to his chest. “That was the most terrifying dream I’ve ever had in my life.”

“It’s over now,” Harrington says, still soft, still tracing circles across Eddie’s skin. “Whatever it was, it can’t hurt you anymore.”

But it can, because Eddie can still see those horrible images behind his eyelids every time he blinks. He says so, shakily, “Think it's burned into my brain now, though. It was so real, man, I’m not sure I’ll ever get her disfigured face and mangled body out of my head.”

Harrington pauses. “Wait a second, did you dream about Chrissy?” 

“Yeah, how did you-?” Eddie starts to ask, then stops as he remembers what Harrington had said yesterday about Chrissy being murdered in his trailer. The realization sets in with a cold chill. He shakes his head in horror, tightening his hold on Harrington’s hand like it's a lifeline. “No. Oh no, please don't tell me that actually happened.” 

“It did. I’m sorry, it did.” Harrington clasps Eddie’s hand in both of his now. “That wasn’t just a nightmare, Ed, that was a memory. You’re starting to remember.” 

“Well, shit,” Eddie mutters. If that’s what his lost memories are like, he thinks he’d very much rather them stay forgotten. “I’m starting to see why my brain blocked it all out in the first place, then. Was the whole rest of the last 11 months that awful too?” 

“No…” Harrington frowns and that kicked puppy look flashes across his face, darkening the spark of hope that had just flickered in it before. “Well, maybe, I don’t know. I hope not.” 

“Great,” Eddie sighs, tired and sarcastic. He stares up at the ceiling where the gnarled ghost of Chrissy’s corpse still haunts his vision. “Can’t wait to remember more.” 

“I’m sorry,” Harrington says quietly. A heavy sadness runs thick in his voice again, same way he’d spoken when he first learned of Eddie’s amnesia. He squeezes Eddie’s hand once and then lets go. 

So much for always, Eddie thinks dimly. His hand feels cold now, naked and untethered without the solid pressure of Steve’s fingers curled around it. 

“You should try to go back to sleep,” Harrington tells him. The mattress shifts, the springs creak, as he rises from where he’d been perched at the edge of the bed. In the empty space he leaves behind, Eddie only feels even more untethered. 

A sharp rush of panic grips him at the thought of being left here alone in the dark with the twisting shadows and afterimages of his nightmare. “Wait, Steve,” Eddie calls out immediately, before Harrington can even begin to turn away from him. “Will you stay?” 

“Yeah.” Harrington nods, murmurs, “I’ll stay.” 

~

So Steve stays. He stays and he sits in the stiff chair by Eddie’s bed, and he spirals. Of course he spirals, in the silence, in the dark. He can’t seem to do anything else in Eddie’s presence lately but let his mind spin around in circles ‘til it breaks. 

Was the whole rest of the last 11 months that awful too? Eddie’s previous question is the catalyst of his spiral this time, the words that are currently echoing in the whirlpool of Steve’s consciousness, because he hadn’t thought of that before. He has already wallowed in the idea that he was something so unimportant he was easy to erase, but Steve hadn’t yet considered the possibility that he was something so horrible he needed to be erased. It makes sense, though, doesn’t it? The nurse did say Eddie’s amnesia was in part due to psychological trauma, and his memories do end just before he and Steve properly met. Was being with Steve so awful Eddie’s mind lumped it in with all the other recent traumas and just had to wipe it away? 

An ugly guilt twists beneath his skin, like a deep rot running black in his veins. Steve curls his hand into a fist in his lap, digs his fingernails into his palm as if the sharp bites of pain will help release what is dark and decayed inside of him. As if it will choke the voice in the hollow behind his heart that now tells him he deserved to lose Eddie’s love, or that maybe he never truly had it in the first place.

And, see, Steve knows he’s spiraling. He knows his brain has just tripped down some bullshit rabbit hole of self-deprecation and that really his despairing conclusions are not in any way rooted in reality. He knows Eddie loved him. He knows Eddie’s amnesia is not his own fault nor is it a reflection on him. He knows it’s got nothing to fucking do with him. Yet nonetheless, his mind continues to tumble downwards on a quest to prove the opposite. The rot still festers; the hollow still whispers.

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie’s soft-spoken words eventually cut through the quiet and shake Steve from his lamenting thoughts. 

He sits forward. “Yeah?” 

“I can’t sleep,” Eddie says. “Do you, uh- sorry, could you…maybe hold my hand again?” His voice is small like he’s asking for something embarrassing, and his hesitancy kind of breaks Steve’s heart. “Just until I fall back asleep. It just- it makes me feel safer.” 

“Yeah, of course.” Steve scoots his chair closer to the bed and gently takes hold of Eddie’s hand again. 

Eddie sighs, a heavy exhale of relief, his body beginning to relax almost immediately. He squeezes Steve’s hand. “Thanks,” he mumbles. 

“Anytime,” Steve whispers in response. Always, forever, anything; because I love you, want you, need you, miss you. He swallows down the emotion that rises in his chest. Another spiral threatens to drown his mind again and he fights that off too, tries not to think about everything that fucking hurts. 

He focuses on the familiar feeling of Eddie’s hand in his (it’s bittersweet; he’s not thinking about it), on watching the steady rise and fall of Eddie’s chest as he slips back into a more peaceful sleep (he wants to kiss his forehead, tuck him in like a child; he’s not thinking about it).

Steve leaves first thing in the morning. The second Wayne walks in and Eddie now has someone else there to watch over him, Steve tells the older man briefly about Eddie’s nightmare and then he’s out the door before Eddie even wakes up, and he doesn’t return that day. 

He can convince himself, illogically, that it’s better for Eddie if he stays away - that Steve’s spiral was right and he’d only make Eddie uncomfortable in the daylight; the less he’s around, the less the rot inside of him can poison Eddie too. But also it’s selfish. Mostly it’s selfish. Because as much as Steve craves to be near him, it hurts far more to be around him and not be seen, not be known, not be loved. The ache of missing him when they’re apart is so much easier to bear than the ache of missing him when he’s right in front of him.

Still, Steve does come back that night. He doesn’t want Eddie to be alone, and with Wayne working graveyard shifts and everyone else having parents to answer to, Steve is the only one left who’s both willing and able to sit with him through the night. He has a feeling, just a feeling, same as he’d had the night before, that Eddie might need him again. Well- maybe not him specifically, but just someone, anyone, to comfort him in the dark, and Steve can be that someone. And maybe that’s selfish too, because it feels good, eases the ache a bit, to be the one to help Eddie, to take care of him. If Steve cannot be loved then he will settle for being needed.

Good for them both, then, that Eddie does end up needing Steve that night. Eddie jolts awake from another nightmare memory - this one about being chased onto the lake by Jason Carver and watching another body float above the water and be crumpled and killed by Vecna - and Steve is there once more to hold his hand and soothe him back to sleep.

And then, again, Steve is gone the next morning, back the next night. Such is the pattern he’s fallen into, the selfish, stupid pattern: gone when he cannot feel loved, back when he can feel needed. 

Tonight is the worst nightmare yet. Steve can tell it’s bad even before Eddie wakes. The heart monitor begins to beep more rapidly, Eddie whimpers and twitches in his sleep. Steve grabs Eddie’s hand and tries to ease the nightmare before it worsens, though to no avail. 

Eddie doesn’t wake up screaming this time, but choking and crying, rasping through hyperventilating breaths fragmented nonsense about bats and pain and death. He doesn’t seem to be completely aware or lucid right now, still stuck in his nightmare where he’s dying and he’s scared, so scared. 

“Shh, Eddie, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Steve can’t stand to see him like this. Holding his hand isn’t enough. “C’mere,” he murmurs. “You’re alright.” He doesn’t even think, just climbs onto the bed with him and very very carefully, very very gently, sits them both up and pulls Eddie onto his chest, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. “You’re alright,” Steve continues to whisper softly, lips brushing against Eddie’s hair. “Just breathe, baby, it’s okay.” (The pet name just slips out; neither of them notice.)

Eddie clutches Steve’s arms, leans back against his chest and tucks his face into the curve of Steve’s neck. He’s trembling, breath still rapid and panicked, not yet free of the waking dream he’s trapped in. “I died- I’m dead- I was dead,” Eddie keeps babbling in shaky, sobbing gasps. “It hurts- and I died. I don’t- I don’t wanna die- I don’t-” 

“You’re not dying, Eddie, you’re not. You’re okay,” Steve reassures him. “You’re alive.” He gently pries one of Eddie’s hands off his arm and guides it to the boy’s chest, covering his hand with his own as he presses it over Eddie’s heart to give proof to his words. “Do you feel that? You’re alive, you’re so alive.” 

Eddie sucks in a deep breath, lets out a tremulous exhale. “I’m alive,” he repeats, his voice wavering like he’s trying to convince himself of something he doesn’t quite believe. 

“Yeah,” Steve confirms, still holding his hand over Eddie’s slowly steadying heartbeat. “You’re alive.” 

Eddie repeats it again, a little more solidly this time. “Okay,” he breathes out. “Okay, I’m okay.” His hyperventilating has finally begun to ease, his tremors gradually dissipating. He seems to wake up a bit more now, settles back into reality. He rolls his face out of the crook of Steve’s neck and tilts his head up to rest it against his shoulder instead as he looks at him. “Steve,” Eddie says, not like a question or the beginning of a sentence, but more like he’s only just now becoming aware of who’s holding him. 

Steve gives a small hum of confirmation in response. He doesn’t know if Eddie is going to want him to move now, if the way they’re situated is uncomfortable for him or if Eddie is even okay with this situation at all. Steve can’t tell. He should’ve thought of that first. Holding his hand is one thing, but pulling Eddie half on top of him and holding him there is another thing entirely. And Eddie doesn’t know him anymore. Steve wouldn’t blame the guy if he freaked out at coming out of a panic attack to find himself in some strange man’s arms. 

But Eddie just closes his eyes, goes quiet and still for a few long moments, and so Steve stays where he is, assumes Eddie’s trying to go back to sleep. Steve will keep holding him until then. 

“Why are you always here at night?” Eddie asks suddenly, opening his eyes again. So he’s not trying to go back to sleep. 

The question catches Steve off guard, and not just because he hadn’t expected Eddie to speak again. “I, uh, I don’t want you to be alone- you know, with your nightmares.” 

“No, yeah, I know, and I-I’m grateful for that, but,” Eddie clarifies, “I meant, why are you always only here at night? I know you’re around during the day, dropping off one of the kids or Robin or whatever, you just don’t come in. Like- you’ll hold me through a nightmare, but you won’t actually hang out with me and just, like, eat shitty hospital food and watch shitty hospital TV with me. What’s up with that?” Eddie looks up at him. His tone is light enough, but there’s a genuine curiosity in his eyes, and a confusion that borders on hurt. “Thought we were supposed to be friends, Harrington.”

“We are,” Steve says immediately. “We are friends. I just- I didn’t want to force that on you or-or make you uncomfortable or awkward or anything. I know you don’t know me anymore.” 

“Well, you haven’t given me much of a chance to get to know you again,” Eddie states plainly, and that catches Steve off guard too. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to.” 

“Of course I want to,” Eddie mutters. “You’re a decent guy, Stevie. Not how I thought you’d be. Maybe I want you to keep surprising me.” 

The way one corner of his mouth quirks up then, popping a dimple in his cheek, makes Steve’s heart stutter, chest warm with a rush of affection. He can’t help but smile a little too. “Okay.” 

“Okay,” Eddie echoes, smirk stretching into a proper grin now. He taps his fingers where they rest on Steve’s arm. “You better hang out with me tomorrow.” 

“I will,” Steve agrees, because how can he say no to a smile like that? “Promise.” 

~

Satisfied, Eddie closes his eyes and settles back to try and fall asleep again. A lingering fear still runs like an undercurrent beneath his veins though, scared of sleep and dreading the possibility of another nightmare, another memory. He shifts, pulls Steve’s arms a little tighter around him. Eddie never seems to have bad dreams once Steve is holding onto him.

(part four) taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (i have hit my limit on amount of people i can tag in one post; taglist will be continued in replies. please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list. no longer accepting any more additions atm!! also, thank you guys so much for all the support on this so far omg??? this is insane for me and i'm so glad y'all are enjoying my writing <3)

[dear-satan]

Beginning Of the End III

player 230/Thanos x Reader

★ word count: 10K

★ CW: fem!reader, reader is a player 457, funding issues, fraud, mention of cigarettes, alcohol and drugs, mentions of death, blood, normal squid game stuff

★ previous part, next part

Player 001's voice changed everything.

You stood there, even though the voting had ended a moment ago. You felt like you were still dreaming. Like the nightmare you woke up in would never end. You even pinched the bare skin on your hand. The momentary pain only confirmed your belief that it wasn't a dream or a nightmare, but a terrifying reality that you were stuck in by your own will.

Tomorrow more innocent people will die, and you didn't have the strength to keep playing.

You didn't want to keep playing.

So tomorrow you'll die too.

"Is everything okay, honey?" his voice brought you back to earth. His shaking hand gently touched your cheek. "Are you feeling bad? Why are you ignoring me?" the questions he asked you made you angry and feel helpless. You looked at his name tag first - a blue O. Looking at it, you felt like he betrayed you in the worst possible way. But then you looked at his face, his eyes. His dilated pupils almost covered his unique, for an Asian, blue irises.

It was too much.

"Are you kidding me?" You said it quietly at first, far too quietly for Su-bong to hear. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" You pushed him away, your chest moving at a rapid pace. "You're high." It wasn't a question. "You're fucking high, having the time of your life when people around you.. When WE almost died and you're asking me if I'm okay?!"

His jaw clenched. You watched as he swallowed the unspoken words, a lump growing in his throat. He always acted like this when he was high. He couldn't get a word out when you first screamed at him not to take.. To be clean. But he never listened. Never. And you knew he wouldn't listen this time either. That your words will only echo empty, one he wouldn't remember when he sobered up.

That's why you didn't continue.

Barely holding back tears, you shook your head. You turned around and walked away, leaving him in the middle of the hall. You sat down on your bed with a loud sigh. You felt helpless against everything - the world, life, your boyfriend.. And your love. You thought Su-bong would press X with you. That he would follow in your footsteps just this once, when you were playing for your life together, and not for money.. Not anymore.

But he didn't go.

You weren't even disappointed, because he hadn't done it in a long time. Su-bong had disappeared somewhere, along with his stupid jokes, songs written just for you. It's funny that you only noticed it now.

Damn blue O.

・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・・

The morning was really hard. If you could, you would stay under that thin blanket all day. But you couldn't, and you knew it.

Players, another game will start soon. Get ready and remember to follow the rules.

“I wonder what's in store for us today.” a foreign girl crouched next to your bed - a 380 player with a blue O on her right chest. She looked in front of her for a moment before turning her head toward you and bestowing a small, but really sincere smile. “I hope there won't be that big doll. Disgusting, it will haunt me every night.”

For the first time in a long time, you laughed. “Yeah, me too.”

“You are with player 230, right?” She asked “Sorry, I don't want to be nosy but…I saw your argument yesterday…. And, he's really an asshole.”

Your smile disappeared as quickly as it appeared. You started searching with your eyes for purple hair. He was sitting on his bed with player 124. “He quickly found a friend,” a lump appeared in your throat, but you ignored it. “Yes, we… We have been dating for a long time. We live together but…. You know, debts came up. Senseless investment in crypto, loans, loss of work…. You know.”

“You agreed to invest in crypto? You seem more reasonable than him.” was curious, which you couldn't blame her for.

“Yes.” the lie was heavy ”We let ourselves be made like children.”

“I see.” The 380 player only nodded, looking ahead again.

“But you're right, he's an asshole.” You added quickly, at which she laughed quietly..

“You know, if you want we can stick together.” She looked at you again. You saw the warmth in her eyes and the will to survive that you lacked. “Me, you, and player 125 - we'll make a nice team.”

For a while you steamed at her without any response. The thought of the team filled you with some form of hope. But what about Su-bong? You couldn't leave him alone, you weren't a horrible heartless girl thinking only of herself. “I…” you looked at Thanos once again. You were angry, so terribly angry at his behavior. But something inside you told you that he could handle it and, despite everything, he would be beside you. “Gladly.”

“Great!” she got up from the floor and extended her hand toward you, ”I am Se-mi.”

・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・・

Going through the pastel corridors again was much worse than the first time. Guards stood in every possible place, guarding you with guns in their hands. It's funny how false a sense of security they tried to give you at the very beginning.

You entered a huge square, similar to a classroom for kindergarten children. Two large rainbow circles were painted on the ground. Everything about the messy place was candy, looking seemingly safe. But wasn't that exactly how you were supposed to feel? Safe?

Players, you have ten minutes to assemble a team of five.

The announcement was loud, too loud for you. You immediately looked at Se-mi and Min-su with whom you formed a team of three. You started looking around for potential companions. Unfortunately, people matched up in teams really fast leaving you with fewer and fewer options.

“Damn, I didn't find anyone,” you groaned disappointedly. Time was slowly running out.

“I didn't manage to find anyone either,” Min-su also said, still looking around.

Se-mi opened her mouth, but before she could say anything a familiar voice interrupted her, causing all three of you to look toward its owner. “Señorita, excuse me.” Thanos' smile widened as your gazes met, “I noticed that you were looking for two players. Here we are, Thanos will grace your team with his presence.” he couldn't be serious..

You rolled your eyes amused when 380 commented on his artistic nickname. When Su-bong greeted Min-su then approached you. The warmth of his body eminated enough to send a shiver through your body.

“Still angry?” he asked, cautiously nudging your hand with his finger as if he feared your repulsion.

“Still high?” you answered with a question to a question, but did not move away.

Thanos laughed while shaking his head. His hand grasped yours and lifted it to place a gentle kiss on your skin. “Don't be angry, this is the last game.” you didn't know , whether to believe him. “After it, I'll vote for X, you'll see. We will return to our home. Safe and sound with our money.”

The time to find a team was over, and all the teams were sitting in the middle of two rainbow circles. The game you would play was titled Six-Legged Pentathlon, during which you would play five, smaller games - ddakji, biseokchigi, gonggi, paengi chigi, and jegi. You started to determine who would play what - you chose ddakji. You were really good at it, considering that you won over the recruiter almost immediately. Se-mi chose biseokchigi, claiming that in childhood she had won against every kid in the yard. The boys divided among the other three games, each choosing what they felt most comfortable with. They were, after all, games from your childhood, nothing new so theoretically winning was really easy.

The game had begun. You all sat close together. Thanos' hand was on your knee as you watched with precision as the guards pinned the legs of the first two teams. They had five minutes to pass each competition and reach the finish line. That complicated things. Five minutes is really not a lot of time, considering the possible failures with each game.

You swallowed saliva, squeezing Thanos' hand. Fear set in your body again. “I can't handle it, I can't do it.”

“If you talk like that, we'll definitely lose.” Nam-gyu looked at you, and more at the red X on your chest. You saw something along the lines of contempt in his gaze, and you didn't know why. After all, you had never spoken to him before. “Get it together.”

"Nam-su-"

“I'm Nam-gyu.”

“After all, I did say that.” Su-bong clenched his jaw. His hand squeezed your knee. “Change your tone when you speak to her. Is that clear? Because I don't like to repeat myself.”

Player 124 only muttered something under his breath, turning his head away. “Sure, bro.”

・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・・

The paper square seemed extremely heavy when you held it. Your ankle was pinned to Thanos' ankle. The black material was fastened far too tightly, bruising you with every step. You took a breath and threw at the pink square - it didn't fall over You bent over picking up the blue square and threw again - this time it hit next to it. Your breathing sped up, you heard Nam-gyu's nervous voice and Se-mi's disappointed groan. Your hands began to tremble.

“Hey hey hey.” Su-bong leaned over and handed you a paper square, “Relax. You can do it. . Take a deep breath and throw it again.” His tattooed hand stroked the top of your head.

You nodded and closed your eyes. Time seemed to stop as you took air into your lungs. Your heart slowed down and when you were ready, you opened your eyes, throwing the paper square once more.

You've succeeded.

Joyful cheers spread through the room and your team moved on. Se-mi handled the biseokchigi effortlessly, as did Min-su in the gonggi. At the spinning top there was a problem, but Nam-gyu turned it around on his second attempt. You were at the very end, Thanos' game remained. By the high he was on, he seemed not to notice the time pressure when the last 40 seconds. But he bounced the damn ball five times. Crossing the finish line was like having a weight lifted off your back. Your legs were splayed and you immediately hugged Thanos standing next to you.

“Thank you.” You groaned inhaling his scent.

He just picked you up and turned you around, hugging you as if he had completely forgotten how soft and comfortable your body is. “It's all right now señorita, we're going home.”

taglist: @ttokyocat @itsvaleriegarza @jdbxws @hyunjinieandlix @chrisstyle @the-iridescent-phoenix

[thatfreshi]

Pitch Black (Astarion x Reader)

TW - panic attack, claustrophobia, themes of death/rotting

I based this off some sad lore I found out about him yesterday :(

Recommended Song: Rainy Day Loop - SALES

There's a lot of things Astarion hasn't told you. You don't mind, because a lot of those things are hard to relive. Everything he tells you comes with a price, but he does it mostly out of necessity. There are times you know something lies deeper, and yet you don't pry. It will come to light if he decides it needs to.

However, he never told you about one of the first truly cruel things Cazador did. How one day he refused him, told him no for once. He woke up buried six feet under, starving in undeath for an entire year until his master dug him up again. That was the last time he disobeyed.

This led to a fear he never told you about, claustrophobia, that terrifying feeling of being unable to escape small spaces. He doesn't like closets, this you knew, but you assumed it was because they're dark and sad, not because they're small rooms.

One morning you're sleeping, peaceful, arms wrapped around him tight. He wakes up before you, calm at first. When he realizes his discomfort at feeling trapped in your arms, he gently tries to move you off of him, but you grab back in your slumber, not knowing what's going on beyond the barrier of sleep. That first wave of panic sets in as you wrap yourself tighter than before, and he freezes up, remembering the smell of musty dirt and bones. He tries to scoot away, and you unknowingly pull him in again. That second time is enough for him to feel fully trapped, and without thinking he bites down hard on your arm.

"GODS!"

You bolt up out of your sleep, holding your arm, realizing it was Astarion who caused the sudden alarm. He sits at the edge of the bed, breathing heavily, still trying to ground himself. You try to ask him things, why the hell he'd do that to you, but he can't hear your questions. The worms, the beetles, at some point you become accustomed to the tiniest sounds. He wondered if they'd start to eat away at him, if vampires were like corpses, if he would slowly decompose in the ground. You go to touch his hand and he yanks it away, standing up.

"Astarion!"

And he finally turns to see you on the bed, your arm bleeding badly, how concerned you look. He can't speak though. Footsteps, people passing by, unable to scream because of how tightly packed the sediment is. You try anyways.

"Aster, listen to me. I need you to listen to me, okay?"

You're panicking. You haven't seen him this bad in a while. He's not there, at least not truly there. To be knocked out, only to wake up in pitch black, what a horror.

"I think you're having a panic attack my love, can you try to focus on one thing in the room?"

A painting, a landscape of a graveyard. He was put in a graveyard, some kind of cruel joke. His eyes wander to the frame, golden, like thread. He remembers stitching little phrases and stories into his clothes, he remembers the first time he did such a craft for you. The breathing starts to settle, still shaking, he sits back down next to you, and just starts sobbing. You go to hug him and he flinches.

"No!"

You are almost taken aback, but you remember that it's not your fault.

"Okay, that's okay. I'll just sit here with you."

He just cries for a while, and you let him. Clearly something startled him badly, badly enough that he bit you. You forgot until now that you were bleeding. Not only did his fangs pierce, but many of the rest of his teeth got through the skin. As you're analyzing your wound, you take part of the blanket and press it into your arm, trying to stop the bleeding. Astarion notices the movement, and you see guilt overcome his face immediately. You interrupt before he can speak.

"It's okay darling, I know you didn't mean it."

He wipes at his tears, finally coming back to reality, truly grounding himself.

"I... I'm sorry."

"I know, it's okay."

He stares at a crack in the floorboards.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He nods, mainly because he hates it when you're confused.

"So... a long time ago, Cazador decided it would be fun to bury me alive."

He almost laughs at how ridiculous it is, how someone could even think to do that. You just listen.

"And I stayed there for an entire year. And I don't know how it happened, but you tried to hug me tighter while you were asleep, and I- I just panicked, I felt so trapped and it just reminded me so much of-"

He can't even bring himself to say it again.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea."

He scoffs.

"Yeah, you were asleep, and I freaked out like a monster and bit you."

He gazes down at the wound, wincing at what he's done.

"Hey, look at me. Wounds heal, I'll be okay. What matters is that you're okay."

"I... I think I'm okay now. Just, feel miserable."

"That's okay, you're allowed to feel however you want."

"I know. Thank you my sweet."

He picks your hand up off the bed, holding it to his face. It takes weeks after for him to be hugged again, especially being the little spoon, but you don't mind. You'll go through every phase of his, good and bad. This one just happens to be bad, and that's okay. He'll be okay. You'll both be okay.

[strangersteddierthings]

February 3

rating: T

cw: none

prompt: Love is being terrified but not letting that stop you from taking a leap.

Continued from yesterday's post.

They end up on opposite sides of the alley as they wait. It's been about fifteen, twenty minutes of silence. Steve leans back against the wall, arms crossed, and he switches from staring at one end of the alley to the other. He doesn't expect the guy who attacked Eddie to just pop up but... Well, better safe than not.

Eddie sits across from him, one knee propped up, the other stretched in front of him. He hasn't looked up from his lap since he sat down.

Steve should be mad. Eddie's being a dick for no reason. He's not mad, though. He's... hurt.

He's always sort of suspected he was the problem. Eddie's been hot and cold with him since they saved the world together. He originally thought they were friends, and that Eddie's distance and anger would creep in when Steve was coming on too strong.

And, like, not for nothing, but Steve knows he attractive. He's caught Eddie looking. But that guy back in alley- Steve can't deny they look similar. If that's the type of guy trying to beat up Eddie in back alleyways, then-

Steve shakes the thought from his head. That was probably just a coincidence.

"I think it's been long enough," Eddie says, though he makes no move to stand up.

Steve pushes off the wall. He heads straight for Eddie, to offer him a hand up. Getting up is harder than getting down some days, with the scars. Eddie looks surprised, but he takes Steve's hand.

They stand for a moment, before Steve steps back. He gets about five steps away.

"Wait, Steve," Eddie says. And Steve stops. "I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said- any of that."

"Apology accepted," Steve says, even though it's not true right now, he knows it will be. He starts to turn around but-

"Stop! Don't- can you please not turn around? I-I got something I need to say, but I don't think I can do it to your face, man."

"What? Why?" he asks, but stays put.

"'Cause I- Can you just listen?"

Steve sighs, putting his hands on his hips and dropping his head down but he doesn't move.

There's a moment of pause, probably where Eddie's expecting verbal confirmation, but Steve stays silent. "I-I can be a dick, and I get pretty defensive-"

Steve snorts at that because, yeah. Yeah he does.

"-when, when I'm scared. And man, you fucking terrify me."

He sucks in a sharp breath. Maybe he wasn't too far off with his earlier thoughts of himself and that guy.

"And now you- you saw Michael. And, and maybe you saw enough to... see a resemblance?"

"Yeah."

"So, uh, I am- I'm fucking terrified but we both know we can't- I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to you, that I take things out on you. Especially around the things I feel. So, I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? I'm the one who- who did something to make you scared," Steve is confused. "I'm- I look like the guy who attacked you. I get it."

"Steve," Eddie sounds different, his voice is more steady. "I- I mean, yeah, he was going to throw a punch but that's not- we went into that alley together."

Well, now Steve does whip around because, "What? Like... willingly?"

Eddie cringes, but doesn't look away. "Yeah."

Furrowing his brow, Steve says, "why? I don't- if you knew he was going to hit you, why'd you go?"

Eddie laughs, but it's humorless, "he wasn't going to hit me. We were going to share a cigarette. Or, like, I thought we left for a smoke break, we'd been chatting it up at the bar and I wanted to not have to strain to hear him, but Michael thought that was me using 'have a smoke' as an innuendo. He didn't turn into a dick until I told him I wasn't going to blow him in broad daylight."

"Oh!" Steve is shocked, and given the confused look on Eddie's face now, he thinks his face shows his own shocked confusion.

"What did- did you think Michael was just there to beat me up?"

"Yeah! What else was I supposed to think!?" Steve doesn't- what? If Eddie... "So, you were, like, attracted to him?"

Eddie doesn't say anything. He looks almost as wired as he did the night they found him in the boat house, terrified and running on adrenaline alone, but he manages to give Steve a nod of confirmation.

"So, you're attracted to guys that... look like me?" Steve says out loud, trying to piece the puzzle together. Eddie is turning red but he nods another confirmation. "But then why aren't...." he trails off, remembering the shout that really started this conversation. 'Because it's you.'

It won't matter what Steve looks like, he realizes. Eddie just isn't attracted to him. As a whole, as a person, in general.

"Oh," Steve says again, unsure of what else to say. "I- I get it. I wouldn't- I wouldn't want me either, but, uh, thanks for like, saying it plainly. Do- Can I go, now? Or do you- I'll walk you to your van if you're still worried about Mitchell."

"Michael," Eddie corrects while just staring wide-eyed for a moment before he shakes his head and exclaims, "What? What are- What are you talking about!?"

"I- You said the problem was me!" Steve says back, trying not to raise his own voice back. "What do you mean what am I talking about!"

"What do you think this is about!?"

"That you hate me! And you've been trying to pretend you don't! Probably for Dustin's sake or something. But you don't have to! You don't have to force yourself to hang out with me."

Seems like Eddie wasn't expecting Steve to say that, it the dropped jaw looks of disbelief on his face is anything to go by.

"So, can we go now? Are we- is this done?" Steve says, bitchy.

"Steve. Steve, I don't hate you! How did- what have-" Eddie cuts himself off with a quiet 'fuck' as he looks down. Steve watches as Eddie seems to steel himself against something before he looks back up and says. "Dude, I'm like, in love with you. And I was trying so hard to hide it but I-I guess I did that. A bit too well if that's your conclusion."

Steve doesn't even know how to process that. That's not- how can that be- but Eddie said it. He looks like he might have a heart attack at any moment now, but he said it. "What?"

"Don't make me say it again, man."

"No, no I think I need you to. Because there have been so many times I thought we were flirting and it might go somewhere and then you'd- you'd suddenly be a dick again and I thought it was because I was making you uncomfortable with my flirting."

"You were flirting with me!?" Eddie screeches.

"Yes! For months! I thought you knew."

"No! If I fucking knew I wouldn't be driving to Indy when I can afford it to try and find some knock-off Steve Harrington to try and get my rocks off with!"

They both just stare at each other for a moment before Steve feels the laughter building in him, and it comes out as a high-pitched giggle that builds into full on laughter. It brings tears to his eyes and he hears Eddie's laugh joins his after a moment.

"This mean you'll quit being a dick to me all the time?" Steve asks, once the laughter has died down.

"Well, I'm kinda a dick in general, so no," Eddie says, offering a small smile. "So, are we... okay?"

Steve pretends to think on it before saying, "yeah. We'll be okay. But, we should get back to Hawkins. And, uh, maybe you wanna come over and we can talk more? Figure this out?"

Eddie's small smile becomes blinding. "I'm following you home, Harrington. Best of luck getting rid of me now."

Steve smiles back and closes the distance between them to give Eddie a quick, teasing kiss. Eddie leans back in, but Steve stops him with a hand to his chest. "No. More talking first. I-I've started too many relationships by skipping that bit and, uh, they never last. So, home?"

Eddie grins. "Yeah. Home."

-

@steddielovemonth @nburkhardt @i-less-than-three-you @afewproblems @skepsiss

[syoish-aot]

"I Found You" - EREN X READER, REVERSE ISEKAI - Part 2

okay okay I'll post more...

reader/eren

post canon, reverse isekai, memory loss

currently rated T

word count: 1147 [updated June 27]

<- PART 1 | PART 3 ->

*********

“Who the hell are you?”

You’re pinned to the bed below Eren. One of his hands is firmly against your wrist to keep you from moving (although it’s obvious to him that you don’t have the strength to fight against his hold, even if you tried). 

He stares down at you, his heart hammering against his chest in a mix of anxiety and confusion.

How the hell do you know who he was, but he has no memory of you? Or this bed? Or this room? Or anything besides Mikasa’s blade against his throat and the tears lining her eyes. 

You’re trembling below him, clearly terrified, indicating that you’re equally clearly not a threat. 

Eren’s not sure what’s going on here, but he doesn’t want to do anything too rash and complicate things further. 

So he lets you go.

“Sorry.” He mumbles as he pulls away from you and sits on the edge of the bed.

Immediately you sit up and turn towards him. “Are you okay?” You ask, staring with eyes wide and clear concern splashed across your face.

For some reason, it causes Eren’s stomach to twist uncomfortably, even though he has no idea who you are. He says nothing.

“Did you have another nightmare?” You ask softly.

The way you say it indicates that this may be a common occurrence. So he lies: “Yes.” He answers. “Sorry. Guess it freaked me out a bit.”

You give him a comforting smile and, again, it causes his stomach to twist.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say softly. “You’re awake now, right? So everything’s okay.” You lean forward to kiss his cheek before pulling yourself out of bed. “Armin said we needed to be at the restaurant at one.”

“Armin?” Eren quickly asks.

You can’t help but laugh at the way Eren is looking at you. His eyes are wide, eyebrows raised, lips parted just slightly as he sucks in a breath. “Yeah, Armin.” You confirm. “And everyone else.”

“Who else?”

You sigh. “Eren, you really need to get better at remembering the plans we make.”

“Who’s going to be there?” Eren repeats, ignoring your comment.

You laugh as you stand so you can cross the room to finish putting on your makeup in front of the large mirror next to your dresser.

“Besides you, me, and Armin, Niccolo obviously. I’m still surprised he managed to plan the whole thing.” You joke as you start on your eyeliner. “Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, and Marco for sure because they’re reliable when it comes to making plans. Historia texted me yesterday and said Ymir didn’t want to come because apparently she and Reiner still aren’t over that fight they had last week. Oh my god speaking of that fight, did you know that they put it on pause to go get beers together at Maria’s? Literally just went ‘I hate you but we have to watch this game together so we’ll be friends for a night and then go back to our bullshit’. Honestly, I commend them for being able to do that.” You laugh. “Anyway, if Historia is set on coming, Ymir will still show up and we can see that drama unfold in real-time. Sasha will be there for the food, Pieck will be there for the booze, Porco will be there for the Pieck being there for the booze. Obviously Jean’s going to be there and you better behave. Connie, duh! And Mikasa finally flew back into town so she’ll-”

“Mikasa’s going to be there?” There’s something to the way he says it. This strange… hope in his tone. It leaves you confused.

“Yes?” You answer. Or maybe you’re asking, you aren’t too sure. “Didn’t she call you to talk about it literally last night?” He’s still staring at you but you shrug and turn back to the mirror. “Now get your perfectly sculpted ass out of bed so you can get ready or we’ll be late.”

Without saying another word, Eren stands up and leaves the bedroom.

If you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought he hesitated at the door, glancing around the apartment because he wasn’t sure of the layout.

But you and Eren had been living there together for over a year.

So it wouldn’t make sense for him to be confused.

It wouldn’t make sense at all…

***

Eren fumbled his way through getting ready. He tried his best not to talk to you because talking to you was… confusing.

Anytime you were too close to him or your eyes met in a specific way, his stomach would erupt into butterflies as his heart felt like it began beating ten times faster.

It was a purely physical reaction to your closeness and it was- it was… odd. 

To say the least.

It felt like his head and his body had different ideas of who you were. 

In his head: you were a stranger. Someone who’s name he could barely remember (and had almost forgotten several times). You were confusing, potentially dangerous, but obviously some sort of key to figuring out what was going on; which became especially apparent as you rattled off the names of almost everyone he knew.

In his body: you were everything. You were someone he felt an intense desire to touch. To feel. To be around. His body pulled him towards you at every opportunity it got, sometimes even to the point that he had to physically stop himself from reaching out to take your hand, grabbing you by the wrist- kissing you. And every time it happened he could recall what it would feel like to follow through with those movements. Somehow he knew the warmth of your lips on his, your body flush against him, your fingers curled into his palm- fitting so perfectly, like your hand was meant to be there. Instinct. His reaction to your presence was pure instinct.

And he had no idea what to make of that.

But when you’d told him that the two of you were meant to be somewhere and rattled off names of people he knew (and not in the way that he “knew” you, these were people he actually knew), he hoped that talking to them would clear things up.

So, he spent the morning playing the part. Doing what you told him to. Following you around the strange apartment that the two of you, apparently, called home.

He didn’t want to alert suspicion, not yet.

Especially when you said Mikasa’s name and his stomach sank.

“There.” You said with a smile as you finished knotting his tie and pulled it perfectly tight against his neck. Your hands moved to his shoulders, flattening out his dress shirt. 

                           Who were you?

    Who were you?

                                                                            Who were you?

It’s all Eren could think as you smiled up at him and his whole body felt like it was on fire.

[balkanradfem]

I've been talking about my new swimming spot and how I had to get away from my last one because it became contaminated, but now I have to talk about it in more detail because I am getting stressed, and too anxious to actually go swimming.

So the reason I left my last, super convenient swimming spot, is that it became a spot where a small group of m*n frequented; and the thing is they didn't harass me right away. There are little benches on top of the riverbank, under some trees, and sometimes when I went swimming, there would be people on the benches, just resting and talking, and I would politely greet them and go down the stairs, and we didn't bother each other at all. Until, at one point, whenever I would get into the water, a male from the group would suddenly also decide to get into the river, at which point I would swim to the other side of the river, where I would have peace.

That worked the first time, but the second time, a m*n followed me down into the river, with two big dogs (they're as big as me), and when I swam to the other side of the river, he also swam to the other side. I felt uncomfortable, but decided to linger there for a bit, and then swam back – and he followed me immediately. At this point I started to get away from the swimming spot, into the deeper water, and then one of his dogs followed me and started barking at me, so the m*n also followed the dog, and got uncomfortably close to me.

I want to stress at this point that I'm not wearing a swimsuit or a bikini, I am in big black swimming trunks that go all the way down to my knee, and a sleeveless shirt which I appropriated for swimming because the outfit makes me very comfortable, and un-self conscious. The outfit screams 'nothing to look at here'. And I'm struggling with low weight right now so there's truly nothing interesting, I am looking as unappealing to males as it is possible to be. Even my hair is tied up and wrapped in a bandana. He looks like he's in his late 50s or early 60s, he's three times my size, and his dogs are about as big as I am. There is no legitimate reason for him to linger anywhere close to me.

As I was in my deep water spot, and he wasn't leaving, I started to get terrified. I was looking for a way out of the situation, I was starting to contemplate that he might assault me, because he kept following and cornering me, and even though the place was kinda public, there was nobody nearby. I waited for a moment where he got distracted with one of his dogs, and escaped the scene.

I was too scared to ever go back to this spot, so I found a new one; the problem is my new spot is not exactly far away from the old spot, just much more inconvenient to get to. No stairs, you have to wade trough tall grass and get a bit prickled by the nettles and thorns. But I don't care, I'm feeling safe with the nettles. So yesterday I went swimming to my new spot, and as soon as I entered the water, I realize the same guy with his dogs, is at the old spot, and I ignore him, I'm far enough that he can't quickly or inconspicuously approach me. So I'm swimming to the other side of the river, swimming back, looking at ducks, letting all of the little fish snack on my dead skin cells, and a few times I just offhandedly glanced at his direction, just to make sure he was still there. And every single time, he's staring right at me. He was looking at me when I was entering the water, he was staring in my direction when I was swimming, and when I was just sitting in the water. He was staring after me when I was leaving as well.

That guy seems to just live at the river, he's in there almost every time I go swimming, and at this point I'm scared to go back. Why would you go to the river and then keep your eyes completely glued to another person also swimming there? From my point of view, I was being super cool, making sure us two strangers each have our own private swimming spot, so we can both relax and not be bothered by other people around us. But why is he staring at me?

At this point I can't rule out the possibility that he's planning to assault me and is monitoring my movements to figure out where and when it would be the easiest to do it. There's no way he could be staring at me for no reason whatsoever, even when it's making me obviously very uncomfortable, to the point where I will go to a different place to swim. Apparently me just moving to a different spot isn't enough. And this isn't the first time I've gotten attacked by a male in the river, I once got chased by someone to the point where I had to hide in a corn field to get away.

So now I am sad and wondering if I'll get to swim again this summer. All other access points are either crowded or far away from me, and I hate crowds. I need a no-m*n-summer. Just delete them. Female only summer. I can't deal with this shit anymore.

[alaskan-wallflower]

Do you have angsty/sad hcs for the Curtis brothers

Oh boy do I! (all warnings are in the tags)

Darry

I’ve said this before but he used to be kinda chubby as a kid before he started working out because he felt insecure

In doing this though he developed some eating issues he still has to work through

He’ll never admit it but he cries himself to sleep nearly every night, especially after Pony ran away, like he needs to know Pony is and will stay in bed at night

If Pony’s out post curfew he gets so nervous, one time Pony got home about twenty minutes late and he found Darry pacing and running his hands through his hair, shaking. He doesn’t come home late too often after that

I wrote a fic on this but post his parents death he tried to end his life one night because he was just so depressed

He doesn’t think he’s a good brother or guardian. If you asked him he’s say he’s “alright” but in all honesty he didn’t know what he’s doing and it scares him

He used to starve himself because he thought his brothers needed the food more, and he was “strong enough to” (he passed out on a roof and nearly broke his neck)

Sodapop

It’s canon but he hates being mediator. It makes him feel like he’s being torn in two

Post book if Pony and Darry start fighting he just goes outside and smokes, which scares Pony and Darry because Soda never smokes

Soda despises when Pony smokes because he’s scared Pony’s gonna ruin his chances at being able to continue track

He has asthma really bad (Pony won’t smoke inside if it’s just him and Soda, he did once and Soda almost choked to death)

He was very depressed in school and probably found his way to be invited to soc parties where he’d drink everything away

I made this hc yesterday or so but he’s terrified about Steve graduating because if Steve leaves him he’s truly gonna be alone

He hates his appearance-he knows he’s good looking but part of him hates being objectified like that

He screamed at some girl post Sandy because she was way too pushy with him and he broke down at work (Steve took him home and told Darry)

Ponyboy

Pony starts cutting post book-he burns his hands and arms a lot with his cigarettes too

He tries to stop smoking post book too because he saw what happened to Johnny and by default Dally

He becomes a bit of a pyromaniac post book too

Darry and Soda do frequent body checks on him and he sees the way Soda holds back tears and Darry’s eyes go cold and hard

He thinks he’s never going to be good enough and that Johnny and Dally would think the same

He doesn’t pray often but after his parents died he started praying more in hopes that he’d be able to stop mourning

He was hospitalized once for his aspirin addiction and Darry nearly throttled him (and then collapsed into tears)

He tries to hold his emotions in a lot more around his brothers because he doesn’t think Darry or Soda want to deal istg an emotional kid

Hope these are alr-

[ashblooddragons]

My Heart, My Ruin (Chapter 3/?)

(Sorry! I know it's a day late but yesterday was my family's Thanksgiving so I didn't have time to write sadly. but I got this chapter out today so hopefully it is alright lol)

32 ac Dragonstone 

Rhaella's pov

Me and Rhaena stand side by side as we watch two dragons feast upon horses, pigs, and what seems to be a squid but I can't be sure. We've both been desperate for a dragon, we both have been feeling a pull at our souls for far too long to ignore.

“How do we do this? Especially while wearing such unfit clothes?” Rhaena asks, turning to look at me and our outfits. 

I'm wearing a light blue dress with silver embroidered flowers and dragons along the sleeves, neckline, and hem of my dress. And of course, the necklace Uncle Maegor gave me for my nameday all those years ago.

And she is wearing a lovely dark navy dress with silver embroidery of dragons and stars along the sleeves, neckline and hem of her dress. 

Mama gave them to us only a week prior as a set stating. “You two are so close, you may as well match every once and a while.” 

And to be fair she's not wrong, we both have many ‘friends’, mostly ladies whose fathers wish to get a in with the royal family. But no matter how much gossip, walks in the gardens, or some other mundane activity they bring me or Rhaena's way, we would both pick to play and explore with each other. She truly is my best friend in this whole world. 

“I mean we don't have to fly on them, we just have to claim them, the flying part is more of a special thing to add on. Plus yours isn't nearly large enough to be saddled and ridden yet.” I say pointing to the blue dragon Rhaena had had her eyes on, it is no larger than a horse it would take at least two more years before she could fly upon the beast. 

“Yeah I know that, but you want Meraxes, she is the size of mountains. She could swallow you, me, and my little dragon to be in one fell swoop! So we need a plan, at least for your future dragon.” She says pointing towards Meraxes.

I think for a moment trying to figure out how we can achieve our goal and not be jerky for the dragons this afternoon. I then notice the distance between the dragons, because of Meraxes size compared to the wild blue dragon, it made me believe they were closer than they actually are. 

“There is no need, you go to your dragon, and I'll go to mine.” I say confidently starting to wake down the hill we were watching the two dragons from. That is until Rhaena pulls me back looking scared 

“What if I forget the words? What if you forget the words? What if we both do and we're both fried? What if even though we do everything right they still don't choose us?” She rambles off in such quick succession it is near impossible to understand what she is saying.

“Calm down, Rhaena,” I say gripping her shoulders, making her look me in the eyes trying to calm her down. “Where is my fearless little sister? Surely my little sister will face a dragon. I mean you are the one who pranks grandsire and great aunt Visenya, if you can prank them I think…no, I know you can claim a dragon.” I say which seems to calm her. 

I know I got through to her when I see that fire and mischievous look come back to her eyes replacing the cold and fearfulness that used to be there.

“Alright, let's do this.” Rhaena says before practically running down the halls towards her gorgeous blue dragon. 

Looking at the dragon from this viewing point and not the far distance I usually do, I can see why it has caught Rhaena's attention. It is a beautiful baby blue with silver accents and white spikes and membrane. When its scales are caught in the light of the sun it makes a breathtaking shimmer that appears as if the stars are made by this dragon, and this dragon alone.

My attention is quickly turned though by the colossal that is known as Meraxes by her growl that seems to either shake the ground, terrifies me to the point my knees are knocking together, or both…most likely both. 

I feel as if my very soul is vibrating when looking at the white and gold beast, her scales appear to shift between white and deep silver depending where the light catches them, but her spikes, horns and membrane are gold just like the molten gold of her eyes. She is a gorgeous dragon, one I know will be mine.

I walk closer to her taking slow and calm steps trying not to startle her. The thought rises a giggle from me, for why would this beast large enough to be mistaken as a mountain be frightened by me a little girl of only ten? 

I'm now right in front of Meraxes feeling the warmth of her breath against me, I'm so close with each breath she takes my hair is either pushed into my face or blown past my shoulders. I thought I would feel panic when I came this close to her, but instead I feel a wonderful calmness, a warm and kind feeling, the feeling of being whole. 

I feel her nuzzle against my chest, she is obviously trying to be gentle but when you’re the size she is well it’s quite hard to be gentle. I finally decide to reach out when she starts to purr against my chest. I feel the warmth of her scales, they are smooth with only a bump here or there from her war days. 

I can’t fight the smile that comes to my face at the very thought that I have a dragon. 

I'm startled out of my musing when I hear a cheerful squeal. I quickly turn and see Rhaena doing a happy dance which consists of her jumping and fist-bumping the air. 

“I GOT A DRAGON!” She screams excitedly as her blue beast watches, and I swear is dancing in joy with her if the sway and tail swishes are any indicator.

I start walking towards Rhaena when she starts running over to me and Meraxes. Though I think the dragon wouldn't hurt my little sister, as she probably feels the bond I have with Rhaena, I would rather be safe than sorry. 

Rhaena stops and gives me that mischievous grin of hers before saying cheekily. “So is it fair to assume you tamed that mountain you call a dragon, or am I to wait a bit longer for the flames to leave her maw?” 

I can't help but roll my eyes and giggle, for Rhaena truly is just a cheeky thing always ready with a joke. 

“Yes, I succeeded as well, though I don't know if I want to take her for a fly yet.” I say looking behind me to watch as Meraxes eyes Rhaena curiously.

When I turn back I find Rhaena pouting with her infamous puppy dog eyes. I already know what she's going to ask me before she even asks it.

“Please! Oh please can we fly back to the castle?” 

I sigh looking back at Meraxes trying to decide if I'll give in or not. When I turn back I find I can't give one, for Rhaena knows I know the commands for she and I both take the same classes with the Dragonkeepers. 

Finally, with a groan I nod and start walking towards Meraxes. I know I made the right choice when I hear Rhaena's happy chatter as she talks to her dragon about how she will need to follow us.

I stop and look at the ropes wondering how intact they are after all these years without use and being worn down by the weather upon Dragonstone. But with one touch I can feel their intact and could hold both me and Rhaena easily.

“You go first, I'll be right behind you in case you slip.” I say moving to the side so she can climb up.

She only nods before starting her climb with me quickly following behind her. I feel the burn of the ropes as I pull myself up, it feels as if no time passed from the time my feet were on the ground and I was sitting upon the saddle. 

I try and catch my breath before turning to Rhaena to ask if she is secure. When she nods excitedly wrapping her arms around me I quickly turn around commanding Meraxes to take to the skies.

“Sōvegon!” 

Me and Rhaena scream in delight as Meraxes runs towards the cliff edge before leaping off and extending her wings. When we're in the sky I feel this immediate calmness that comes through me. 

“Look, mine is following us! She listened!” Rhaena says excitedly as she points to her dragon trying its best to keep up with us. 

I smile, nodding, and look forward again, noticing we’re almost to the castle. I search for a spot large enough for Meraxes to land, it takes a bit of time but I find one close enough to the castle that we won’t have to walk far. I barely make out the shapes of Father, Mother, Grandsire and Uncle Maegor as we land. 

They all start running towards us as we slid down Meraxes extended wing. Mother is the first to reach us grabbing both of us by the shoulders and checking for injuries.

“Are you alright? Neither of you are hurt?” She asks before kissing our brows and hugging us close. 

“We’re alright Mother, we both claimed dragons.” I say hugging her back and taking in her scent of oranges and cinnamon. 

“Yes, we can see that, Darlings.” Father says from behind Mother marveling at the sheer size and beauty of Meraxes before turning to Rhaena’s dragon. “Though I do believe that one is wild.” 

Rhaena giggles running over to Father with a smile that could outshine the very sun. “I’m gonna call her Dreamfyre because her scales look like stars when the sun catches them.” 

I’m soon distracted when Mother walks over to the now curious Aegon stopping him from rushing towards the dragons. I turn to search for the one face I was hoping to see after claiming a dragon and it doesn’t take me long to find him as he is already moving towards me. 

“You claimed Meraxes, you have a dragon.” He says with a smile, but for some reason, it seems pinched, forced like he isn’t truly happy. 

Instead of trying to find out why he is upset I decide to answer. “Yes, isn’t she lovely, Kepus?” 

He only hums looking anywhere but me. This confuses me, he has always said I’d claim a dragon one day, that he would be so proud of me when I do, but he doesn’t seem proud he seems angry. 

I get no time to inquire about this strange behavior as his wife comes walking out asking questions about dragons and such. I feel the same ugly feeling I always do when she is with Kepus, the one I never get rid of no matter how hard I try. So instead I turn to pet Meraxes along her jaw missing the way my uncle turns to me with a proud smile that finally showed once he pushed through his jealousy.

Series Masterlist

Special thanks to @sugutoad For making the header for this fic! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @sachaa-ff @classicsimpforaaronwarner @mmogurl

[urmom3001]

Apollo’s Favorite (Luke Catellan X Reader)

Summary: Reader gets called upon a quest from her father, a quest where she is destined to never return. Very much similar to Yue in Avatar the last air bender

Warnings!: angsty ish. Fem!Apollo!reader. No happy ending sorta? Erm not proof read😔😔

Percy had just gotten to Camp yesterday. Poor boy, just lost his mother, put into a camp with a bunch of strangers. Percy was rethinking all of his life’s choices when he finally snapped out of it and realised it was all real. He was here, with the counselor of Hermes cabin learning the “Ins and the Outs” at camp.

As they walked they walked around the U shaped cabins they passed Cabin 7. Percy was very attentive and noticed how beautiful the cabin shined. How the sun reflected off of the carefully, crafted pillars of the building. As he admired the cabin..which was way better than Hermes Cabin. He read the plaque just above the doors of the cabin and he noticed a wooden bow and arrow with intricate gold detailing just above the door of the cabin and under the plaque.

“In Great Thanks to Y/n L/n…” Percy read in his head of off plaque. “Hey Luke?” Percy turned to his left,

“Yeah?” Luke answered

“Who’s Y/n L/n, sounds like she’s got a whole bunch of glory.” Percy joked

Luke thought to himself, he looked like he was reminiscing. This alarmed Percy, maybe he hit a soft spot and he didn’t know?

“Yeah she has a lot of glory. She’s known as Apollo’s Favorite”

- Last Year Around the Summer Solstice-

I was shooting arrows at the shooting range when Chiron aproached me. My bow and arrow was my most prized possession, a gift, from my father. Being Apollo’s favorite was, pressuring and nerve racking. The Gods were very bipolar, it could’ve changed in an instant. If you keep trying to understand why the Gods are the way that they are, you’ll drive yourself crazy.

“They are ready for you to choose.” Chiron continued “Follow me” he gestured and he started walking.

I wordlessly followed. I didn’t know who to choose. I knew one thing though, I wasn’t choosing him. I was terrified. The Oracle is always confusing, but this one was very crystal clear.

“One soul is destined to never return back to the place they once called home”

Everyone that attended Camp Half-Blood knew it as home. Somewhere they could belong. One of the three of us is not making it back.

As we got closer to the circle of the camps best, my stomach was churning the words of the Oracle repeating in my head. How would Luke react when I don’t pick him? We go on each others quest all the time. But this one, I just. I don’t think I could live if Luke is the one who didn’t return.

I stood there before all of them. I pointed at an Ares girl, Clarisse, I think. She’s a fierce fighter. “You….and..” I hesitated. I looked at Luke, he was looking straight back at me. “You.” I pointed to one of my half brothers that was right next to him. The look of betrayal showed on his face.

“Very well” Chiron announced. “Pack everything you will need. Your journey will begin Tomorrow morning, and your deadline is, The Summer Solstice.”

I watched as everyone walked away, everyone but Luke of course. I tried to start walking away before he could say anything to me.

I started but he followed “ What the hell was that?” He asked, he sounded furious.

“What do you mean Castellan?” I always called him by his last name.

“You know what I mean L/n” And he called me by mines.

“Because you don’t understand what’s at stake here. This quest changes everything.” I said.

“So why didn’t you choose me. We always go on eachothers quest.” He questioned.

“It doesn’t matter. I need to pack my-“ I started walked as fast as I could now. He cut my words off.

“What’s going on L/n?? What the the hell did the Oracle say to you. I don’t understand why you didn’t choose me”

At this point I was fed up. It was too much. One of us is going to die. It could be me, or it could be one of the other two.

“BECAUSE ONE OF US ISN’T GOING TO MAKE IT BACK.” I finally shouted. I could never keep anything away from Luke Castellan.

“Wha-what?” He stammered.

“One of us, isn’t. Going. To make it. The Oracle said to me. ‘One soul is destined to never return back to the place they once called home’ Don’t you get it?? One of us isn’t coming back. And I’m not going to let you onto this quest because I don’t know what I would do if you died because of me.” I finally let out with a sigh. “Now please, I need to pack.” I left him there. He didn’t say anything as I walked away.

I finally made it back to cabin 7. What if I was the one that would die? I’ve never been scared of death. I always sort of knew my father was going to give me a choice of something being his favorite and all. I never even desired glory. I just wanted to be a kid.

Everyone else was at the archery range or doing other camp activities, so the cabin was empty when I arrived. I started to pack my things. Some clothes, some medicines I had made, and other needs. Finally I looked at my bunk. Above my pillow hung my bow and arrows. Of course I was taking my bow and arrow. I carefully took it off the holder on the wall and placed it on my bag. The mist will cover it once we are in the regular world.

I was almost done when I heard a knock. I knew who it was. If it was one of my siblings they would’ve just come in. “Come in!” I shouted. I was working on making more medicine for the quest.

“Hi Castellan” I said with my back turned to him.

“Refuse the quest.” He said.

“Excuse me? I can’t refuse a quest from my father himself are you nuts?” I didn’t turn to look at him, still working on the ambrosia mixture.

“What if it’s you?” He said, I swear I heard the smallest crack in his voice.

I finally turned to look at him. He was worried I can tell.

“Then it is me. I will die a very famous glorious death.” I said half jokingly.

“This isn’t funny, you can’t die on me Y/n I need you.” He came closer.

My first name coming from him made me wince. He’d only ever called me Y/n when he wanted me to take him serious.

“Luke, everything is going to be okay.” I walked to him and grabbed his hands. “I’ll always be here for you.”

“Always?” He asked as we interlocked hands.

“Always.” I confirmed with a smile. “Come on, Dinner’s gonna begin soon, and I can’t wait for desert they’re having strawberry shortcake!” I said as I dragged him towards the door. I could finish my medicine later.

“Alright alright.” He followed…not that he had a choice or anything.

-Morning of The Quest-

“Thought you could leave without saying goodbye?” I heard Luke say.

I turned around and ran to hug him. “It was too early. I didn’t want to bother you I-“ he cut me off

“Y/n.” I finally looked at him in the eyes. Taking in all of him. If I didn’t come back, this would be the last time I would see him. “You could never bother me” he finished his sentence.

“Okay, I’m sorry, but I really need to get going” I said.

“Right, uhm. Before you go I…” he hesitated.

“You…?” I quipped to make fun of him.

“I uhm wanted to give you this.” He handed me a bracelet, it had all of my favorite colors and it was simple. Just how I liked it. I loved it. “And I have a matching one!”

“Luke, this is..” I looked up at him. “Amazing, thank you I love it. I’ll wear it for the rest of my life.” I hugged him, tighter than I ever had before. This could be our last hug after all.

“Come on!!! STOP MACKING WITH MY SISTER WE NEED TO GET GOING!!” My half brother shouted.

“Leo SHUT UP.” I shouted back.

“You should get going” he said as he hugged me.

“Yeah.” I said disappointedly. “Luke?”

“Yeah?” He looked down. And I finally looked up at him for the last time. And I kissed him. I had never kissed anyone before. But I’m glad I kissed Luke. He kissed me back, and it was like we were made for each other. Like plato had sculpted us out perfectly for eachother. After what seemed like forever we pulled apart foreheads pushed together.

“Don’t die on me. Okay?” He said as he he looked into my eyes.

“You’re never getting rid of me Castellan” I smirked as I started walking away.

And so we set off on our quest, hoping for the best. As I looked back at camp over my shoulder. I saw Luke standing there waiting for me to leave his line of sight before going back to his cabin. He waved as a looked back. And I waved too.

-Current Day, Camp Half-Blood-

“She’s the soul of the Sun now.” Luke answered monotonely. “Every century, Apollo picks a new soul to be the Sun, otherwise the Sun wouldn’t shine without a soul.” He explained to Percy. “Y/n L/n was the soul he chose to be the next Sun. We didn’t think it would be Y/n. Everyone knew she was Apollo’s favorite but, we didn’t know the reason she was, was because she was the next Sun.” He said.

“So this Y/n girl, she’s..that?” Percy said as he pointed to the sun.

“Yup.” Luke confirmed.

“She went into the quest knowing that one of them wasn’t going to make it. She knew there was a big chance it was going to be her but, she went on the quest anyway.” Luke went into detail.

“Wow she’s..really brave. I guess that’s why she has a plaque in her honor?” Percy asked.

“Yeah, her siblings fought for it to be done. She was so young you know? She was, brave, kind, and so smart. She was amazing.” Luke noticed he might’ve said a little too much when Percy questioned.

“Were you close with her?” Percy asked.

“Yeah, she was..we were..it’s complicated.” Luke muttered.

“You guys loved eachother..huh?” Percy picked up.

“Yeah,” Luke sighed. “I loved her a lot. I never got to tell her. How could I not though? She was so perfect. Down to earth. She never wanted all of the glory and monsters. You know?” Luke said. He hadn’t talked abt Y/n in ages. Of course she was always on his mind. But he never really talked about her anymore. He couldn’t bring himself to.

“Yeah. I know the feeling.” Percy felt exactly like Y/n. He didn’t want to be a half blood. He didn’t want glory. He didn’t want any of this.

“Well, uhm. We should get going, we have a tight schedule.” Luke said as he started walking away. Percy followed. As they walked together. Percy noticed Luke adjusting a bracelet on his wrist a lot after talking about Y/n.

“Yup..” Percy thought to himself “ …Definitely hit a soft spot.”

A/n: Ermmmmmm this is my first work pls be nice😔😔💔💔💔 constructive criticism is VERY much welcome and erm I hope u enjoyed :3

[blackenedsnow]

Heya! Same person who requested the Ace!Reader x Arthur Morgan thing! Thank you so so much! Made me super super happy and I may or may not have cried a little bit lmao

Feel free to ignore this other bit of the ask. I don’t know if one can send a request more than once, but obviously I’m not expecting this to be written with all the other people sending in asks. They take priority. I was just wondering if you could write something about the same kind of reader, but with Kieran? Where she’s always defended and protected him, fed him well when he was tied to the tree, got him a tent and a cot and everything, and fussed over him in general, at first just because she’s not okay with that sort of treatment but develops actual feelings for him, and she rescues him from the O’Driscoll boys when he disappeared?

Again, feel free to ignore this. The important bit is that I felt more reassurance than I have in a while with the Arthur request. Thank you again! Have a lovely day/night!

soft hands

WARNING: Kidnapping, mentions of mistreatment

PAIRING: Kieran Duffy x Reader

NOTE: I’m so happy the Arthur fic meant so much to you! Seriously, feel free to send in as many requests as you want. (As long as you don't spam my inbox all at once lol) It’s never a problem, and I love creating these for you! You’re always welcome here.💙

SUMMARY: After weeks of caring for Kieran, you realize your feelings for him go deeper than simple kindness. When he goes missing, you risk everything to bring him back.

Kieran whimpered as the ropes bit into his wrists. The thick cord twisted around the bark of the tree where Dutch had ordered him tied up like some animal. He’d been with the gang for what felt like a while now, but they still looked at him like he was some kind of vermin. Except you. You always did what you could to help him, offering him scraps of food when no one was looking, defending him when Bill or Micah got too rough.

You couldn’t stand the way they treated him.

It wasn’t as though Kieran had exactly "chosen" to be with the O’Driscolls. It was a "ride with us" or die situation, and you believed him with all your heart. You didn’t believe in this kind of cruelty, and seeing him tied to that tree, looking half-starved and terrified, set your teeth on edge. So, from the moment he’d been captured, you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on him.

It started small—handing him extra food when you were sure no one would notice. Then, you’d convinced Dutch and Hosea to get him a tent and a cot so he wasn’t left exposed to the elements like some animal. When you finally got them to untie him, you’d gone out of your way to make sure he wasn’t harassed by the others. You didn’t know why it bothered you so much at first. Maybe it was just your natural instinct to look after people, to keep them safe.

But over time, something changed.

You started to notice the way Kieran would blush when you brought him food, or the way he’d glance up at you with those soft, grateful eyes. And it wasn’t long before you realized that your need to protect him went beyond just being kind-hearted. You had feelings for him, feelings that snuck up on you when you weren’t looking.

It was a cold morning when you realized something was wrong. Kieran hadn’t been seen since the night before, and no one seemed to care.

“Have you seen Kieran?” you asked Arthur, who was busy cleaning his rifle. He barely spared you a glance.

“Haven’t seen him since yesterday,” he said. “Why? You worried about him?”

You frowned, a knot of anxiety twisting in your chest. “You sure he’s alright?”

Arthur sighed, wiping down the barrel of his gun. “I don’t know. If he’s smart, he ain’t runnin’.”

You didn’t like that answer. Something in your gut told you that Kieran hadn’t run off. He wasn’t the type to just leave—especially not after everything. You trusted him more than anyone in the gang did, and the idea of him disappearing without a word didn’t sit right with you.

“I’m going to go look for him,” you said, already heading for your horse. Arthur called after you, but you didn’t stop.

The ride was long and cold, your mind racing with worst-case scenarios. You knew that if Kieran had been taken by the O’Driscolls, it wouldn’t be good. They had no love for traitors. Every second that passed without finding him made your heart pound harder. You pushed your horse faster, determined to bring him back safely.

After hours of searching, you finally stumbled upon an old O’Driscoll camp hidden deep in the woods. You dismounted, creeping quietly through the trees. There were three men sitting around a fire, and off to the side, tied to a post, was Kieran.

Your heart dropped at the sight of him. He was slumped over, his face bloodied, his wrists bound tight behind his back. They’d beaten him.

You had to get him out of there.

Drawing your gun, you crept closer, your boots making barely a sound on the damp earth. You watched the O’Driscolls carefully, waiting for the right moment to strike. When one of them stood and moved away from the fire, you seized the opportunity. Taking out the closest man with a quick knife to the neck, you rushed forward, catching the other off-guard before he could react.

The third man tried to pull his gun, but you were faster, a clean shot to his chest sending him crumpling to the ground.

With the camp quiet, you hurried over to Kieran, dropping to your knees beside him. “Kieran? It’s me. You’re safe now.”

He flinched at your touch, still out of it from the beating. When he finally recognized you, a sob caught in his throat. “Y-You came for me…”

“Of course I did,” you whispered, cutting through the ropes binding his wrists. “I’m not leaving you here.”

Once free, Kieran slumped against you, too weak to stand. His body trembled, and you couldn’t tell if it was from fear or exhaustion. Probably both. You wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close as you helped him to his feet. He leaned heavily on you as you led him to your horse.

“Come on, let’s get you back to the camp,” you said softly, hoisting him onto the saddle before climbing up behind him.

The ride back to camp was slow and quiet, with Kieran resting against you, his head lolling against your shoulder.

Back at camp, you made sure Kieran was properly cared for. You fussed over him like you always did, making sure he had a warm meal and all that stuff.

“I don’t deserve this,” Kieran mumbled one night as you were tending to the bruises on his face. “I don’t deserve you.”

You stopped, looking at him with soft eyes. “That’s not true, Kieran. You deserve someone who cares about you.”

He blinked up at you, his expression raw and vulnerable. “But why? After everything… why do you care so much?”

You hesitated, your heart thudding in your chest. You’d been wrestling with your feelings for weeks now, and hearing him ask that question made it all come crashing down.

“Because…” You set the cloth aside, your hand resting gently on his cheek. “Because.. I don't know. I just care about you. More than I probably should.”

His eyes widened, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Y-You mean that?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your ears. “I do.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then, slowly, Kieran’s hand reached up to cover yours, his fingers trembling slightly.

“Thank you, I… I care about you too.” he replied.

It wasn’t a grand confession, but it didn’t need to be. You already knew. You’d known for a while now.