#monster pt 2

[raphsmuneca]

Monster pt. 2 - Azrielle

• 18+ • Tmnt AU • Tmnt Bayverse • Aged 30 + • Folklore, Romance, Violence • Inspired by ROTTMNT

((I just wanna let my tumblrinas/inos know, idk where I'm going with this story, but I'll be writing in small pieces & maybe by part 4 things will make more sense.)) :) ♥️🫶🏼

𝓜𝓞𝓝𝓢𝓣𝓔𝓡 (𝓟𝓽. 2) - 𝓐𝔃𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓮

-> 𝓟𝓽. 1 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮! <- ⬅️ Part 1

✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧

There was nothing subtle about Hell’s Deviant Point.

The yokai swam and flew throughout the expanse freely, like an overgrown swarm of creepy crawlers, with their wings and horns. Some of their faces made me want to crawl back into my shell, and others, were human-like and beautiful even. Like the mistress Azrielle Cyprus...

The Boss Master, Izael, was a fourteen-hundred year old, descendant of the sea monster yokai, and now the master of this demon realm. Izael had a twin brother, Izmael; known to the humans as Satan; who was spellbound by a beautiful sorceress, which is said to be responsible for his death. Izael swore in the name of his deceased brother to protect his wee one. The little girl ended up in her uncle’s loving palms and has been with him since. Izael, himself, fathered a daughter of his own, a sweet young yokai, Izamary; the reason for our alliance with the demons and Mikey’s broken heart.

I don’t know how much of the first part is true, but Mikey’s annoying weeping | can vouch for. He was a sucker for love and of all women to walk the earth, he fell for one that didn’t even share the same dimension. But, who was I to speak...

Although, he’d rescue the demon master’s daughter, Izamary nor Azrielle, were allowed to marry outside of their own kind. But somehow, Izael didn’t seem to mind so much our nearness around the young ladies...

Or so Donnie “noted.”

“Raphael-San? Is that you?”

An older, raspy and high pitched voice pulled me out of the deep trance. I looked down to meet the face of the ancient Boss Master, Izael. The short statured demon barely reached my knees. If power was rated by height, I’d say he was as strong as a flea. Hmm...

“That’s right. Unless there’s another wise ass around?”

The elder’s laughter hurt my internal ears.

“Well, well, my son! Please do enter! You bring me silly tales of the human world, I presume?”

The antiquated demon enjoyed stupid stories, mostly that of humans. He found the human species to be “brainless, idiotic, and amusing.”

“Sorry, not tonight. I came because I have some questions, and thought maybe you could help me by answering a few of them for me.”

Izael turned his neck slightly, eyeing me up and down as he did so. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room changed, the air felt thick, and the servants close by stiffened in their positions. The master’s silence was disquieting, delaying me of my premature inquiries. He knew something, but from my opinion, it was best to let him keep doing the talking.

“I know what you’ve come for, Raphael. Why don’t you follow me to my dojo and we can continue talking there.” He eyed his servants in distaste. “Be gone! Now!” He shooed them, hitting a few of his men with his walking stick.

“You and dad sure do have a lot in common.” That earned me an ugly frown from the old man. He and Splinter were well acquainted, but just like dad, the demon master wasn’t fond of being compared to the other. Grumpy old men. Damn, I sure as hell hope to never end up like them...

Unlike our own, this dojo presented an impeccable atmosphere, with ancient Japanese calligraphy and art adorning the washi walls of the equilateral room. The furnishings showcased a palette of neutral colors, embodying pure zen. Notwithstanding it’s seemingly more confined nature compared to our lair, this space paradoxically felt more spacious and relaxing. For a human, this was hell. For me? Leoless heaven.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate my brother. Far from it. I just wished he understood me sometimes. Fuck! I gotta stop looking around and get back to what I came here for...

Answers.

The demon master must’ve read my face, because immediately after taking his seat at the chabudai, he motioned for me to sit across from him.

“Come, Raphael-San. I have much to discuss with you.”From the deep frown on his face, I assume it’s not going to be a tete a teté among a host and his visitor. This was serious and I had an inkling the Boss Master Izael had the answers to my questions long before I decided to come here.

✧༺♥༻✧

…….

“I know I was framed, Izael! But just how the fuck am I gonna find this jerk face if I don’t know his name?”

We were less than fifteen minutes into our conversation, when the demon master claimed to know exactly who the true murderer of that innocent girl was. The flashbacks kept intruding, infuriating me more as the demon lord went on. I remember every detail…Her hand reaching out to me, pleadingly. She wasn’t supposed to be there. The blood. She was just an innocent bystander…

“She was just an innocent girl! Another foolish teen! Why was she even there?! AHHHH!!”

I smashed my fists against the wood of the chabudai. Glad I didn’t break it.

“Easy, my son. All will fall into place in due time.”

“Izael, you know I wouldn’t disrespect you like this, especially after you knighting me and my brothers and welcoming us into your realm. But, please, in the name of fuckery, give me the name of the man who drafted me into his scheme!”

There was pain in his voice as he spoke to me. I could read through the calm of his tone, and from the looks of it, this mystery wasn’t only mine to solve. Izael needed me as much as I needed him.

"The man you seek lives among your kind, but he is a full bred yokai. He disguises himself as a man. Now, you know that I cannot reach your world without penalty or suffering. I’ve been chained to this plane for many a century. There is a night crawler much like yourself, but with ill intent, that has a lead according to one of my henchmen. I didn’t bother to reach you because I knew well that you’d eventually come to me.”

A yokai that lives among my kind? A night crawler? A lead?

“Why didn’t your henchman come to me?!”

“All wealth of news that comes to my attention by one of mine in this realm must be kept here, Raphael-San. You know this. You are a Deviant Knight in this world. You know my rules, and let that be the last time you question my actions.”

The old man was becoming irate with my demanding attitude. What else was new? Keep your mouth shut, dumbass!

“Okay, old man. Just don’t micro dose the information. I’m running out of patience.”

“Very well then. The night crawler I speak of is a vampire, who goes by the name of Nico De’ Jesus. He roams on your terrain as we speak. He is as greedy as he is bloodthirsty. He is the one who has told the story of the defeated terrapin in New York City. My henchman believes to recall the name of the maker of said terrapin’s misfortune after hearing Nico’s tale.”

“So there is someone else behind all this?! I fucking knew it! Agh!”

“There is. Vice.” The old man’s eyes twitched after speaking the name.

“Vice? And why would this “Vice” fella have it out for me? I’ve never heard of the guy before now.”

“Here’s the part you might find unpleasant. He wasn’t necessarily targeting you. To be more specific, he was seeking revenge on Michelangelo. You see, he is the brother of my daughter’s late fiancé, Joker. Or as his old crew liked to call him, Ace. Ace…Joker. Such ridiculous names. Anywho, I had placed an order for his execution. An order Michelangelo took upon himself to deliver, for the sake of my daughter’s safety.”

“Mikey?!”

My chest felt heavy, making it hard to breathe. The news was overwhelming. I had been trying to uncover the enemy who wanted to harm me, but Mikey’s sudden involvement was a shock. Throughout my life, I had been the one pursued, hated, and hunted. But my younger brother had never been in the line of fire. Not Mikey. Even with all the blood on his hands, Mikey never harmed anyone who was innocent. He was the least deserving of both punishment or cruelty of any kind. It all began to make sense…

“A brother for a brother.” My voice was hushed in disbelief. It was difficult to swallow. The only thing on my mind now was Mikey’s safety. Leo. Donnie. My brothers!

“My son, while I acknowledge your anger, I must make a most unpalatable request of you. I need the bold and audacious yokai…alive.”

This is no time for making requests. The old man must be losing his senses.

“Alive?! Forgive me, Izael, but have you gone mad?!”

Izael sighed now. He seemed agitated and at the same time, spent.

“Raphael, I need him here, do you understand? It is my judgement to make. He shall be punished under my court of law!”

I guess Izael had forgotten who I was. It was one thing to hunt disobedient yokai that brought harm to this world, but for a yokai to bring chaos into my world, to my life, to my brother’s life? No one was going to stop me from ridding both worlds of that demon! No, Izael. I'm sorry my friend, but this fuck face was mine to handle, and mine alone.

“Right.”

I got up to leave, but in less than a second, the demon master held a hand on my sai, stopping me from taking my leave.

“In order to make sure you follow my rules, Raphael, I’ll be sending someone with you. I do have eyes and ears in your world, but I need a voice of reason in my stead.”

Fuck! He’s onto me. Eh, who am I kidding? I’m a crappy liar.

“And just exactly who is this “voice of reason” that you speak of? And please don’t say it’s Silver Wing.”

A smirk formed on the demon’s face. In return, I gave him one of my shit eating ones. To think he could best me. Pfft!

“No, you belligerent beast! My niece, Azrielle, will be your guide.”

It felt like a frog had been lodged in my throat. I was so mouthy before and now I was tongue-tied! I had to take a moment before the air fought it’s way back into my lungs.

“Azrielle?”

“Yes. AZRIELLE!! Come child!” Izael called his beloved niece.

Her beautiful voice sung through the hallway just a few moments later. Azrielle, the princess mermaid yokai. Azrielle, the woman that haunted my dreams and kept me up at night. Azrielle....the reason I still had hope. Izael, you clever fuck. Silver Wing’s words rung true...

In this place, I really wasn’t the only monster.

✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧

@the-cauldron-witch @ninnosaurus @iridescentflamingo @ferox-imagines @sophiacloud28 @milykins @adebauchedsloth @justalotoffanfiction @thepinkpanther83 @inspiredwriter @replicasey @akari180 @iheartchv @leosgirl82 @moonlightflower21 @imthegreenfairy86 @happymoonangel @thelaundrybitch @misty-angerose

• 𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓭 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓭/𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓭 𝓵𝓶𝓴! •

𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓼 𝓞𝓷𝓵𝔂! 𝓣𝓱𝓷𝔁𝔁 🫶🏼

[ameliathornromance]

Link to PT1

Your Ex-Orc’s life has been going great since you broke up. He had been skirting around ending things with you for a while, and the relief of you breaking up with him crashed over him like a tsunami.

He’d forgotten how amazing it was to have his home to himself, to be able to sit in his front room without having to keep up a drab conversation with you about whatever happened at work, or to come home with a ‘shut up’ gift, just to make sure you didn’t complain about his prolonged absence.

However, there were times where we would walk into his flat and catch a whiff of your signature scent, or of a dish being prepared. He would ignore the way the pit in his stomach would open up and would head straight to his bedroom to go and get ready for a night on the town.

This feeling began to wake him up in the mornings too. When he rolled over and instinctively reached out for your figure, to drag in the smell of your shampooed hair and see your sleepy smile.

Every time this happened, your Ex vowed to go out that night. Going out and bringing home random women he met at bars and clubs always made him feel better.

And so, like clockwork when that all too familiar feeling kicked in, the pit reopening like a cut that just won’t heal, he would get on his best clothes and head out.

Tonight, he wanted to check out this new bar that had just opened up in town centre, named ‘Poena.’

Apparently, the drinks were all named after Roman and Greek plays, generals, philosophers and the like. 

It just begged for him to go in there tonight.

As he stepped through the front door, your Ex was greeted by Roman arches and Greek pillars with vines that wound around, up and over the bar itself, fake grapes dangling from the ceiling while the bartender was dressed in a white toga, a golden leaf wreath adorning his brow.

Taking a seat at the bar, your Ex Orc straightened out his blazer and began to scour the place for tonight’s lucky lady.

It was still early in the evening and the only other woman at the bar had her back to him and was admiring a statue of Venus, so your Ex decided to wait a little while longer and ordered a drink named ‘The Bloody 23’

After his drink had been given to him, your Ex’s attention went back to the woman at the bar, where he recoiled in shock. The woman… It was you.

He was stunned that he didn’t recognise you at first, but you just looked so… different. 

Had you done something new with your hair? Was your Make-up different? Or was it the clothes? 

You never normally wore club attire, you even said yourself that that kind of environment wasn’t really your thing.

But here you are, wearing a skin tight, red wine coloured dress. It was like you were a different person.

In front of you on the bar's counter, was an empty glass.

Your Ex smirked, and called the bartender over with a snap of his fingers, “would you kindly refill that lady’s drink? I’ll pay of course,” he said, almost lazily. 

Your Ex lifted his drink to his lips as he imagined your pleasantly surprised face when you realised he was there with you. Who knows, maybe even the pair of you could talk about what happened, make up and even-

His train of thought broke when somebody collided with him. Your Ex’s drink drenched his front, ruining his last good ‘going out’ shirt, staining it dark red.

“Whoops!” The collider said. It was another Orc, younger than your ex. This Orc had his hair tied back into a fishtail braid that went down his back and reached his waist.

He wore a leather jacket, black skin tight shirt and black jeans to match, boots undone, laces loose and unkempt. 

Your Ex Orc gave him a disgusted expression. “Watch where you’re going.” He snarled as he patted his front dry with a tissue the bar had provided.

The younger Orc held his hands up in defence, “sorry, must’ve had too much to drink tonight.” Digging into his pockets, he pulled out some cash and held it out to your Ex, “here, for the drink and… the shirt.”

Snatching it from the Orc, your Ex grumbled, giving one last disgusted glare up and down the collider, “and wear something more appropriate next time, oaf.”

The younger Orc didn’t seem to hear him however, as he continued on and to-

Your Ex froze.

Your face lit up at the other Orcs, jumping to your feet and throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

Eyes twinkling, grinning widely, your eyes darted over to your Ex. The pair of you locked eyes for a moment.

Your smile faltered slightly, the spark in your eyes went out.

The other Orc beside you looked over his shoulder, at his elder and then back at you. His hand reached out to your face, held it in his hands.

Heart thumping in his ears, your Ex stared. You hadn’t replaced him, had you?

The pair of you broke up only a few weeks ago!

You locked eyes with the Orc who held you and just as quickly as your light had faded, it reignited. 

The Orc said something, and it made you burst into a fit of giggles. 

You no longer had eyes for your Ex as you leaned forward and kissed the Orc in front of you. 

And this younger bastard, he kissed you back.

Like the pair of you had completely forgotten about your Ex, sat at the other end of the bar. 

When the kiss broke, your new lover looked over his shoulder at your Ex again and smirked.

Piercing pain shot through your Ex’s hand and he let out a gasp of shock. Looking down at his hand, he found the glass had been crushed by his grip.

He wanted to get up, rush after you and your lover, but the bartender stopped him, already trying to stem the bleeding from his green palm. He looked back up just in time to see you and your new Orc get up and head for the door.

As you and your new lover left, anger, frustration and remorse hit your Ex like a ton of bricks, one after another. 

And suddenly, the pain in his hand was gone. The pit in his stomach consumed him whole as he dissolved into tears.

He didn’t need more time out in bars or clubs, or to meet new women. 

Your Ex needed you. 

And he’d lost you, over a stupid woman at a club.

Tag list:

@serendipitous-fernweh @seungfl0wer @sammywo @sunndust

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[clownsuu]

Ai adventures with yours truly: day 87- still trying to find that delectable angst- instead, I got one story being Wally chilling at howdy’s place due to the rain, Howdy asking Wally if he wants anything grilled to eat, wally flirting to (a very oblivious) howdy from inside while howdy is finishing up grilling (never specified what) and brings food inside, Wally asking to be fed(???) while watching the sunset(?), they both declare they undying love for each other and proceeds to make out passionately on the fuggin couch for several hours

also oh my god these two always gets so dam emotional??? Like they either become besties or lovers and they are always E X T R E M E L Y passionate and cry in eachother’s arms- no matter if it’s normal Wally or obsessive-

[blind-alchemists]

the thing with Solas is that he's proud, and wise, and clever, and cunning, and regretful, and guilty, and honest when it'd be so much easier to lie, but while canon tells (and shows) us all of that, it doesn't tell us that the other deep-seated emotion that drives him is shame.

shame about what he did, shame about what he's going to do; shame about what he was, shame about what he is; shame about killing his friend; shame about viewing the people of the current Age as shadows; shame about not knowing better; shame about not wanting to know better; shame about a befriended/romanced Inquisitor, shame about the friends he made; shame about hiding in plain sight, shame about not telling the truth; shame about making the same mistake twice, knowing how it'll turn out; shame about his outbursts, shame about not being good enough; shame about feeling attached to the current Thedas, shame about not feeling attached enough to stop; shame about not having anything to be proud of anymore.

I was recently struggling with a scene that didn't go the way I thought it would, until I realized that neither pride nor guilt nor regret nor wariness was the the real motivation; they were just the result, the display, the cover: the real motivation was the shame.

and then everything kind of clicked into place, precisely because pride is such a focal point of Solas' character - if shame is a deep-seated emotion, it contradicts his pride, his wisdom, his intellect; if shame is a deep-seated emotion, it fuels his regret, his guilt, his determination; if shame is a deep-seated emotion, it's the one thing he's actually managed to conceal. (then again, I wonder if he's even aware that what he's feeling is shame.)

and, as I kept thinking about it, it kept making sense: to be ashamed is a grave sentence for someone like Solas, who's entire character revolves around his pride and his wisdom and his regret. he regrets enough of his mistakes to be disappointed, unsatisfied with himself, to be uncomfortable with what he's done; he's wise enough to know that he has no logical reason to feel ashamed for half of these things and yet even more reasons to feel ashamed for the other half; he's proud enough to loathe admitting to this shame. he gets wary if you poke at him, defensive if you manage to get to close to this sore spot, upset if you keep at it. his pride won't allow him to admit to his shame, and his wisdom won't allow him to not admit to it, and his shame won't allow him to speak about it, and that keeps him stuck in this vicious cycle.

[raziiyah]

ok i don't usually post unfinished/uncoloured sketches but i hadn't had time to draw for the past several months and my art suffered as a result, and when i did have time to draw i often got frustrated at my sketches

so to finally have time to draw and turn out probably my best lia and randall sketch i've made so far despite the fact i feel so out of practice was very satisfying

[mirrormirage]

Monster Tom || Blue Leader || The Magnus Archives

[jamphibiann]

[resident-gay-bitch]

you can now find eddies pov here :))

this wasn’t going to be easy, and that was a fact.

dustin was already distraught, a blabbering fucking mess for the entire walk from the town centre to the creel house in this slimy godforsaken underworld.

they were already at their wits end, with barely a string of hope left when eddie stepped in. eddie, who was now a bad guy apparently. steve had to tackle dustin to the ground when eddie first swooped in and tried to slice nancys throat open with his claw because dustin just wanted to hug him.

that was hard enough. everything was hard enough. but now steve had to face - and probably be the one to kill because he was the brawn if nancy couldn’t - the very man who had been haunting his dreams for months and led him to ask robin the question of how she knew.

he was… rabid. clothes ripped and clinging to his body in unnatural ways, his hair a fucking wild mess, his eyes glowing red, his skin paler than usual, the tips of his fingers now black and sharp like talons, extra teeth that were far sharper than teeth should ever be, a snake like tongue, wings!, and not to mention he was soaked in blood. he had it dripping from his chin for fucks sake.

whatever that thing was, it wasn’t eddie.

but it was.

so they’d spent the past hour trying to hide and calm dustin and devise a new plan, whilst trying to survive in this hell.

yeah this was going to be the hardest thing steve’s ever done.

he was probably going to die today.

well, if he died at the hands- claws of eddie, then at least he’d be dying with something beautiful. monster or not.

they stepped back out into the road, steve leading the pack and nancy covering the back.

something swooped overhead, casting a wide shadow, and by the break in dustin’s voice, steve knew it was the eddie thing.

he looked up to see the beast pearched atop a stobie poll, crouched with his hands between his feet like an animal, his wings hanging down behind him.

he looked right at steve, and steve felt his heart stop.

covered in blood and fucking terrifying, steve still loved him.

more than ever, actually.

eddie cocked his head to the side, just looking at steve.

steve adjusted the grip of his nail bat over his shoulder, ready in position to swing. he heard nancy cock her gun, he heard mike and dustin grab onto eachother, and noticed el stepping up beside him at the ready.

eddie just sat there. he moved his head slowly forward, like he was trying to get a better look. he was assessing them, probably, figuring out the quickest way to kill them all without getting hurt.

it made steve sweat.

if eddie wasn’t so high right now, steve would just charge and take a swing. get this over with. give the kids the best advantage.

eddie quickly straightened his head out and made a sound. it was a weird sound. sort of like a creepy roll of his tongue and then a click. it sounded far too much like a demo dog for steve’s comfort.

everyone froze at eddie’s sudden moment and then started looking around after he’d made the sound.

had he called for help?

steve clenched his jaw and gripped the bat tighter, eyes fixed on eddie.

eddie raised his wings up high, spread out wide and they were big. like fucking massive. steve was sure one wing alone was longer than he was.

everyone braced for impact.

eddie made the sound again and stood, standing tall atop the electricity pole, and then he made another sound that was more like a birds chirp (if the bird was dying).

and then he moved, and everyone made sudden noise and yielded his weapons but then stopped not a second later.

eddie was falling.

he was just freefalling backwards off the stobie poll with his hands clutched at his heart.

right before he hit the ground, his wings kicked up into action and carried him back up into the air. and once he was high enough, really fucking high, he dropped again.

steve was confused.

eddie dropped and then… oh shit, he wrapped his wings around himself and was fucking spiraling through the air like an arrow, heading straight for steve.

he heard will shout to run, and everyone jumped back but-

steve was on the ground, groaning and trying to fight eddie off who was on top of him, pinning him down. steve didn’t know where his bat went.

eddie was looking at him with wide eyes.

steve’s jumped out of his skin, screaming when he heard nancys gunshot.

silence.

eddie made a small sound, a shrill one, like he was hurt.

oh he was hurt.

eddie turned his head and spread out his wing and steve could see a perfect circle cut through it. eddie looked at it, then moved his wing out of the way to scowl at nancy.

this couldn’t be good.

eddie snarled at her, his snake like tongue darting out to his before he was grabbing steve and lifting them up into the air.

steve screamed, he’d never been this high before.

nancy had aimed her gun to shoot again but dustin stopped her, there was a very good chance she’d hit steve if she did.

steve didn’t know where his bat was.

eddie started flying, steve clutched tight in his arms and he had no clue where they were going because he had his eyes squeezed shut.

he was so gonna die like this.

and then they stopped, and steve was being layed down on something… soft?

he opened his eyes to find eddie crouched over him again, his hands between his feet like before, his wings draped down behind him, his head cocked as red eyes blinked at steve curiously.

steve rubbed his head and looked around to find that he was… in the highschool theatre dressing room? he only recognised it because it was a classic in school make out spot.

he was laying on a pile of pillows and ratty old blankets that were piled on top of a few mattresses. pillows, big and small, were piled up even higher around the mattresses and it looked… it looked like a nest.

eddie made the clicky sound again and then chirped happily and crawled away.

steve was beyond confused.

he sat up and looked around.

beside him was an old mangled bear, there was just a pile of flannel shirts in one corner of the nest, eddie’s guitar was leaning up against the edge of the nest wall, there were those weirdly shaped dice dustin always carried scattered around, and… oh.

steve moved a pillow to the side a little to find his old varsity jacket stuffed there. it was dirty and a little wear for tear, but everything was in the upside down.

he wondered why eddie had it.

he moved the pillow some more to find one of his shirts there too. and then he lifted a blanket to find a whole collection of his clothes! a few shirts, a red jumper, three odd socks and one matching pair, a pair of purple boxers, his old basketball shorts, a singular sneaker that matched the one on his foot now, and a yellow sweater that steve recognised as the one he threw at eddie on the boat.

steve pet his own chest to feel the familiar bumps of the pins and patches of eddie’s battle vest laid there.

oh.

oh they- they were the same.

they missed eachother.

they barely knew eachother, but they missed not being able to learn.

steve spun around when he felt eddie’s presence again, and eddie was sitting in his same weird stance, but this time right beside steve, his face abnormally close.

steve kinda freaked out.

eddie cocked his head again, blinked those wide eyes that steve couldn’t find scary, even under the red.

steve held up the varsity jacket in one hand and gave it a waggle. eddie looked at it and then looked back at steve, then back at the jacket, then back at steve, and then he purred.

steve didn’t know why it gave him butterflies.

eddie nodded his head forward until his head bumped steve’s shoulder, and then he looked back up with those wide eyes again.

“it’s yours.” steve said simply, tugging at the sleeve of eddie’s vest on himself, “i know, i’m sorry. i hope you don’t mind. it helped ground me on the bad days.”

eddie cocked his head.

“can you understand me?” steve asked.

eddie nodded.

steve was very glad to hear that, “can you talk like me?”

eddie just looked at him.

steve sighed, “i’ll take that as a no.” he hummed, “you have a lot of my things.”

eddie dropped something else on his lap.

their old year book from eighty two. steve opened it up to the page that was indented, obviously eddie looked at it a lot.

on the page was a picture of the swim team, steve posing in one picture with one other guy - the co captains - however, the other guys face had been covered by a cutout of eddie’s face. above it in red sharpie wrote “by the time you graduate, this will be real, and he will be nice and want you back”.

steve couldn’t help his laugh.

eddie crushed on him in highschool?

steve stopped his laughing when eddie made a sharp sound of protest, and steve looked up to see his already wide eyes even wider and… a pout?

oh god, he was making a puppy dog face at steve right now.

god, steve had heard so much about his puppy dog face from wayne, he’d dreamed about being on the receiving end of one himself. and here he was, only it was different now. he had pale skin and dark eyes and blood on his chin.

steve closed his mouth and looked at the pleading expression on eddie's still pretty face, and kinda melted.

"you technically still haven't graduated, you know?" steve found himself saying, and he didn't know why. eddie was technically a demon or something. steve should be running for the hills, but...

eddie made a chipy clicky sound again and then suddenly something wet was touching his cheek and- okay, eddie was licking him.

eddie was liking him a lot, like a dog.

steve laughed and pulled away and smiled at eddie, "licking? really?"

eddie smiled and nodded, shuffled steve back into the steve pile under the blankets and made him rest there. steve did lay, and rest, leant up against the pile of pillows and old clothes. he'd forgoten all about the high stakes of everything, because all he could think about was eddie. eddie here, alive- not really there, but here no less.

eddie shoved steve into the shape he wanted and then grabbed the old mangled teddy with his teeth and crawled over to steve. he dropped himself down heavily into steves lap - causing him to jolt forward and gasp from the sudden weight and pain - and curled up. his wings wrapped around steve, caving him in. eddie nussled his head against steves chest, under the opening of the vest, the mangled teddy clutched tight in his arms, and then he purred again, a big long one.

it was so warm like this.

steve didn't care if eddie wasn't really eddie anymore, because deep down inside, he was still every bit eddie that he could be. it was this world that had turned him into something else.

plus, who was he to judge? steve was a much uglier monster at one point in his life too, bulying and kicking people to the ground during highschool, but he was still good at heart these days. eddie could be too.

he was.

there was no doubt about it.

steve ran his hand over - not through because he physically couldn't - eddie's hair and held him close, and they rested there together for a while, in eddie's home.

saving the world could wait a little while.

[lotusyiyen]

[seokiescans]

[SCANS] BTS 4th Mini Album ’HYYH pt.2’ - Blue Photobook (RM)

[asteriastarr]

Part 2 please

Stars (pt 2 to flowers)

A/n: Heyy, heres part two to flowers, Hope you enjoy! (sorry this took so long!) I might make a part 3.

Pt 1 Here

POV: Y/n rethinking her decision to not follow her heart.

It had been three months since Deuce had his realization of his feelings and unfortunately for him, Y/n and Porter had begun dating but his feelings were still going strong. Often he’d wind up hanging out with both Y/n and Porter at the same time rather then the duo’s usual hanging out just the two of them, of course that was to be expected, she was dating someone, he should expect her boyfriend to join them in their hangouts and he’d simply just have to become accoustomed to it. No matter how much his chest hurts when he see’s them together, no matter how much his snakes bite him for not doing anything and tell him ‘just turn him to stone’, no matter how much he wishes he could take Porters place.

However, this new arrangement did mean he could make some observations, he noticed that Porter didn’t have the same habit of removing flowers from her hair to discover the meanings from Y/n, he’d noticed that her hair had been littered with Pink Camellia’s and a yellow flower of which, after some study, he learned was known as a Carnation. Whilst he didn’t know the meanings of Carnations, flower meanings were Y/ns thing, he knew that whatever it meant, most likely reflected on Y/n.

On a sunny Saturday morning, Deuce decided to go on a walk in the forest, unaware that this may alter the course of his relationship with the girl he’d been crushing on.

A familiar voice could be heard talking quietly to herself.

“He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me… not.” The voice sighed, plucking petals off of a daffodil “Well I dunno what to do! I mean, what if he’s not the one, what if I’m just making things up? I thought I was reading the flowers right but.. they changed the moment I acted on them… what if I was wrong? Perhaps I should’ve just listened to my heart.”

The separate sounds of three birds sounded, squawking loudly as if arguing. Deuce inched closer to the sound and saw Y/n sitting on a log, talking to a group of three birds, one dove, one eagle and an owl.

“Okay well no offense owl, but I’d rather take the romance advice from the dove and the eagle.” Y/n spoke causing the owl to hoot offendedly.

The dove and the eagle continued squawking. “Yes I understand that if I don’t love him I should but… it was in the flowers wasn’t it? Written in the stars, if- if I follow what my heart is saying… would the gods get mad?” She wondered as Deuce emerged from the trees.

“Hey.” He spoke, a light smile on his face, the birds quickly flying off as he walks closer.

“Hey.” She smiled glancing at him.

“Uh, may I?” He asked, gesturing to the spot next to her on the log.

“Sure.” She responded, moving over slightly.

He sat down next to her, gently removing the overgrown flowers from her hair, handing her a bouquet of flowers that came from her hair. She blushed, gently taking the flowers.

“Hey could I get your advice on something?” He requested.

“Sure.” She confirmed glancing at him.

“Okay so, I fell in love with someone… I fell in love with someone who I can’t have and may never be able to have because she’s with someone else and every time I see her with the person she’s with… a little part of me dies. It hurts so much; what would you recommend I do?” He asked.

She paused, thinking.

“Well, normally I’d say, ‘let it go’, but I can see from your expression, that may not be possible... So, I’m going to say it never hurts to try, tell this girl and if she doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, so be it.” She advised.

“Okay…” He took a deep breath before continuing “Y/n, the girl is you.”

Pt 3

[uranium-glass-dice]

How can the same kind and loving universe that gave us the Lego movie also be the same cruel and unfeeling universe thats currently shitting out the Minecraft movie....

[always-a-joyful-note]

Can you imagine the power the twins would have wielded if they had stayed together through puberty?

[best-bowie-bracket]

Both songs will be under the cut if you want to listen to them!

Listen to Ashes to Ashes:

Listen to It’s No Game (Pt. 2):

[thethndr]

anywayyyy chick playlist 😊😊

[heart-bones]

I brought my flash drive with my fic on it to work, plugged it in, wrote a paragraph, and got too nervous and took it out lol

I just can't do it, maybe I need my own lil laptop so I'm not paranoid of leaving traces of it on work stuff