#playing through the game again to get a better look at that scene cause. again. I Was Skipping Dialogue. what an enigma.....

[dykedvonte]

Can you talk about trans!Curly a little bit more? I'm curios if you have any headcanons and the like

-💀

It's just such a thing in my mind because it adds a truthful sadness and differing aspect to mouthwashing.

If Curly was trans it adds the horror of the horribly selfish thought he could have easily been in Anya's situation. It could've been him but it wasn't and he so conflicted on the pit it put in his stomach that brings and the shameful relief it wasn't. In this scenario he is friends with Jimmy for a long time still. Jimmy likely knew him pretransition. Maybe he gave Curly weird looks then, maybe they never stopped after, maybe they seemed meaner. They are guys now, bros, both of them are. He doesn't really have to worry what those looks mean anymore, Jimmy just has that face with him sometimes. It's recontextualizing a lot of things for him that he was in denial about or too ashamed to admit. How naive he was being and how he let that get another person hurt.

Specifically with Anya, it's he knows the dread and fear she's feeling. He can understand it because he had to live with it for a good portion of his life, he knows it cause he still does, just in a slightly different way. It makes him think of all the times he's been alone with Jimmy, all the times he's been way more drunk off his ass and not remember the night, Jimmy was always with him the next day. Makes him think of the comments he would laugh off both because that's what guys do but because that part of being a girl says to laugh so Jimmy doesn't do something. It's the selfish realization that he was never safe and he's uncertain now too. Mad at himself for forgeting that feeling, espcially since for a long time he would've been considered the only woman on a crew (with all that implies) for a long time.

He should've taken those blinders off, step back into that position for just a moment and it's so much more painful that Anya likely came to him because he should've gotten it. Those thoughts don't leave his mind after the crash when he's in an even more vulnerable position than she was...

[applebunch]

just played through our dirge (again) and i... didn't realise you could get other endings??? i went through the game again to see what other options where there to pick, but it changed the conversation at the end??? spoilers in tag and under read more

like, first time i was mostly nice to jack (agreed that coming to the school was neal's idea and complimented jack on the costume, but asked him to play something stupid and didn't accept his help with the switch)

the next time i was kinda mean (insisted that i did not suggest going to the school, and insulted jack's costume, but also asked to listen to one of jack's songs instead and this time i accepted his help.) i also ignored a few things while speeding through the dialogue this time

the first time, when jack talks about staying and waiting and neal starts leaving, jack just like, gently, smugly prods neal a LITTLE bit in order to get him to stay and neal gives in, but this time jacks like, almost pleading. apologizing and worrying and everything... what a shift!

[chelseeebe]

never leave (nevermind)

18+ mdni. canon compliant sorta kinda. takes place during the events of s4. violent scenes described. r and eddie are exes. reader gets vecna'd. lots of angst.

a/n: i've been writing this on and off for what feels like months and it's definitely noticeable in parts where my writing improves drastically. howeverrr, i've been wanting to write something s4 related for a while bc most of my fics are au's and as fun as they are, the canon material is also v fun (just very difficult to translate into a fic)

8.9k words.

being home for spring break meant one thing; avoiding eddie munson like the plague. 

it wasn’t exactly easy what with being practically neighbours but you’d certainly tried to make yourself invisible around the trailer park. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you hadn’t seen him for eleven months, not even a trace of that wild hair until one friday night when his van screamed down the gravel road, music bleating loud enough for you to hear inside. you’d known it was d&d night, he still held the club at the high school and no doubt would still be in charge of it, even after he eventually graduates. 

you shouldn’t have even looked. it’s not like you wanted to see him. just curious as to why he felt the need to make so much noise so late at night. 

that’s when your eyes saw her, green hawkins high skirt and the fluffy ponytail to match, flouncing out of the van without a care in the world. 

chrissy cunningham wasn’t exactly who you’d imagined eddie would go for. she was prim and proper, wasn’t into smoking weed and talking about ozzy osbourne but pom poms and cheer routines instead. 

it shouldn’t even hurt. 

you’d been broken up for the best part of a year, away to college, living what was supposed to be your best life. 

but it does. 

pangs through your chest in insurmountable waves, rushing to duck down beneath the window before either of them saw you peeking. 

you don’t dare look out again, maybe it was the fear of being caught or more likely for fear of hurting yourself anymore. 

eddie’s single, he can do what or whomever he likes. 

slinking back into the couch, hoping the crackly tv would drown out any of the lingering thoughts. 

a sharp, stabbing sensation rings through your head, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to shut it down. 

only since you’d been back here, in hawkins had you felt it. people always whispered about how this town was cursed, perhaps it was you after all, bringing the bad luck to the innocent people of this shit hole. 

you drag your feet along the corridor to your bedroom, deciding that being buried beneath your blanket was better than constantly punishing yourself with sly glances out the window. 

-

a multitude of fists pummel at your door, sunlight just barely breaking through the clouds as your eyes open. 

nothing in this world could be so important to cause this reaction, especially not at this time of the day. 

you slink to the door, grumbling your way through the trailer. 

the door swings open, revealing a very out of breath dustin henderson and max mayfield, looking frantic as they pant on your doorstep. 

“what the hell? it’s nine am,” you grunt, wondering how the two even knew you were home. 

being with eddie had meant you’d come to adopt the gaggle of kids he played d&d with, driving them to and from games, offering a place to stay when their parents thought they were at each others houses while they were actually fighting monsters. 

the usual. 

the monster stuff was secondary, getting thrown into the deep end last summer after what was supposed to be a shitty mall job to save up for college, had turned into slimy monsters trying to kill you. 

eddie had only really seen the aftermath, the piles of what remained of starcourt on the floor and the cuts that littered your limbs. you had told him that night what had actually happened, terrified that the government were listening at your door, ready and waiting to throw you in jail for speaking about what you’d seen. 

dustin had made it very clear that you had to be careful not to talk too openly about it, delving into the whole world that rumbled beneath your town. 

you weren’t exactly eager to relive that night in the mall, a haze of slobbering monsters and telekinetic little girls. putting it to the back of your mind as some weird fever dream, a symptom of living in hawkins. 

“eddie’s in trouble,” dustin frowns, “is your mom here?” forcing himself into the trailer, max at his heels. 

“no she’s not-” closing the door behind the rude tweens, “i’m sorry- what’d you say?” hoping you’d misheard him. 

he peers down the hall, lousily checking the perimeter, “eddie’s in trouble,” completely serious. 

“and what does that have to do with me?” putting your hands on your hips, hoping to display some sort of authority, though it rendered useless against their stubborn attitudes. 

“remember the mall?” he deadpans, grabbing the phone from your wall as max pulls out a list of numbers. 

“yeah? i’m still not.. why’re you here? you can’t help him at his trailer?” 

dustin sighs, long and exaggerated, “he’s not at his trailer. we don’t know where he is,” aggressively punching in numbers, “and why didn’t you tell me you were back? i thought we were friends!” ever the sarcastic little dweeb you’d always had a soft spot for. 

“i didn’t tell anyone,” shrugging as you slink into the kitchen, deciding that if they were going to stay, you were at least going to need coffee, “i still don’t understand what’s going on!” 

“we’ll explain later,” max yells, fumbling around in her backpack. 

you tut, relieved that the pounding in your head had subsided at least. 

-

you’re somehow roped into driving the two to family video, receiving the details on the drive over. 

cops had swarmed the trailer park by the time you were ready, piling into wayne’s trailer, talking in hushed voices and yelling at anyone that dared to leave their own homes. 

wayne had come back from work this morning to find chrissy cunningham’s body on his floor. limbs broken and her eyes weeping with blood. 

any sane human would assume it was eddie’s doing. he didn’t exactly hold the best reputation in this damned town, but you knew murder wasn’t anything he was capable of. 

“that monster, from the mall,” dustin continues, leaning over the centre console, “that has something to do with this, i know it,” speaking with such confidence that you had no choice but to believe him. 

“how do you know that?” you question wearily, pulling into the parking lot, “i’m not saying i don’t believe you, but how do you know for sure?”

“well,” he buffers, “i don’t, but i’m 99.9 percent certain,” hopping out of the car before you can get another word in. 

you contemplate just waiting in the car for them to be done with whatever the fuck it is they’re even doing. not keen on seeing more people you really didn’t want to. 

you follow them in either way, ducking your head in some half-assed disguise. 

“-dustin!” robin squeals, reaching out to grab his arm, “those are my returns, you dweeb!” 

she and steve turn to you, perfectly in-sync, “when the hell did you get back?” speaking in unison. it’d be unsettling if you hadn’t spent the entirety of last summer with them both. 

you shake your head, “uh..” regretting your decision not to just wait in the car, “a few days ago.”

“and you didn’t tell me?” robin huffs, thankfully distracted with the mess dustin was inflicting upon her store to chastise you too badly. 

“sorry,” you say meekly, picking up the fallen tapes from the floor as a shitty kind of apology. 

she smiles gently at you, before turning back to dustin with a seeding hatred in her eyes, “what are you little nerds even doing here? do you not have anyone else to piss off on a saturday morning?”

“eddie’s in trouble,” dustin repeats for what is probably the thousandth time today, holding the receiver up to his ear. 

“oh eddie?” steve quips, “what’d he do this time?”

dustin holds his finger up to shush him, unloading his rehearsed spiel down the phone to whoever. 

steve looks over to you for some clarity but you just shrug, not really any wiser on what was actually going than he was. 

this goes on for what feels like hours, listening to dustin and max inquire about eddie to each and every person on their call list, just to end up with a dejected frown when absolutely nobody has heard from him. 

“rick,” dustin nods, drumming his fingers against the desk, “rick! he said he was going to meet rick today! d’you know where reefer rick lives?” swivelling in his chair to glare at you. 

“reefer rick?” robin repeats with such disdain, it’d honestly have been nicer if she’d just laughed in his face. 

you shrug, “i don’t know.. maybe?” offering absolutely zero insight whatsoever. 

“you know, you were only together for four years,” he snarls, doing nothing to help his cause. 

“oh i’m so sorry that i can’t remember every single place we went together,” you hiss back. 

dustin eyes the empty computer and you can almost see the lightbulb go off above his head. tapping into the family video system as if he had any right to be here. 

“you’re not supposed to be on that!” robin hollers, reaching for the mouse though his hands are quicker. 

“stop it!” he screeches, typing rapidly into the computer, “jesus christ, how many rick’s are there?” scrolling the plethora of rick names that had appeared. 

he figures it out pretty quickly. 

realising that reefer rick probably wasn’t using the local video rental store to watch sixteen candles or risky business. 

“you know where that is?” he asks steve, tapping the address on screen. 

“uh.. i think so,” steve wavers, squinting his eyes. 

“great,” dustin shoots up, grabbing his backpack without a second thought, “you drive,” pointing at steve, “you follow,” turning to you, giving zero alternative or chance to protest before he’s out the door, tugging at the handle of steve’s car. 

-

you do as he says, obviously. fearing that if he were to be left alone with robin for too long, she might just wring his neck. 

eddie’s nowhere to be found, the house looks empty and his van isn’t here leaving you back at square one. 

“he has to be here,” dustin frets, pointing at the large shed on the other side of the yard, “let’s just have a look.. you wanna find him don’t you?” turning to you specifically. 

a few years ago you would’ve said yes with zero hesitation but now you’re not sure if you even care. the thought of seeing eddie again makes you a little nauseous. not even owing to the fact that he was a potential murder suspect. 

“why’re you looking at me?” you scowl, “i think we should just leave this to the police.”

“no!” stopping dead in his tracks, “they’ll kill him and you know that,” his eyes sharp as everyone falls into silence. 

he was right, as he often is. which makes this all the more irritating. 

you nod, gesturing for him to continue to the rundown shack behind the house. 

there’s nothing in there, at least no signs of one eddie munson. 

it all just seems useless. if eddie had used the neglected brain in his head, he’d be far away 

from hawkins by now. he was nifty enough to survive on his own, you were sure about that. 

steve jabs at the tarpaulin as you peer out of the door and into the quickly darkening night sky, spinning rapidly as the tarp crinkles and something comes flying out. 

eddie. 

with his hands now pinning steve back against the wall, chest heaving with sheer, seething anger. 

only dropping his hold on him when it registers who it actually is, eyes wide and startled. 

a million and one feelings rush through your veins. you hadn’t prepared to actually see him again, to now be stilled by the sight of him locking eyes with you. 

the slow realisation dawns on him, quickly forgetting that he was a wanted man, all encompassed by your presence in this suddenly stifling shed. 

steve gasps for air, breaking the tension and pulling the attention back to him. robin’s quick to soothe his arm while dustin launches into a quick scolding for eddie. 

it’s not long before he moves onto the next phase of his master plan, dragging max to the corner to loudly discuss what they should do. 

“when’d you get back?” eddie asks, leaning against the dusty wood panelling, “i haven’t seen you..” his voice cracks but he’s unwavering. 

good, you thought. though really it was all useless now. 

“couple’a days ago..” picking at the wood splinter on the wall, “when’d you start murdering teenagers?” hoping it wasn’t too harsh of a dig. 

“ha ha,” he deadpans, running his hand over his face, “you don’t think i did it, do you?” worry seeping through his tone. 

you shake your head no, choosing to meet his eyes, a little reassurance that even if you did think he was a loser, you definitely didn’t think he was a murderer too. 

he nods, sighing into his palm, “fuck,” deflated, exhausted by the day he had endured, “they’re gonna kill me,” shrunken into himself, resembling a dejected little puppy. 

“they’re not gonna kill you,” but your voice shakes a little, not unnoticed by eddie. 

“you don’t sound so sure,” he chuckles, turning his gaze to the rotting floorboards. he looked horrible, to put it nicely. the bags under his eyes were dark and his hair an even wilder mess than usual. 

“i’m not really,” refusing to lie to him, even now. 

he looks up again, unwavering melancholy in his eye, “how’d you find me?” 

you glance over at dustin’s busybody, passionately explaining the next steps to an exhausted looking steve, his hands gesturing for a fight. “he tracked down rick’s address from family video and then wouldn’t let us leave until we found you.” 

eddie grin grows, finding the motivation to get himself off of the dirty floor, “yeah.. sounds about right.” 

you’re too close for comfort now that you’re eye to eye, uncomfortably close while your relationship was still so fragile. 

he breaks away first, striding over to dustin, “what’s the plan? i really need you to save my ass, dude.” 

dustin nods, vowing to keep eddie alive, no matter what it takes. 

-

dustin doesn’t hang around. 

the minute the suns risen, he’s pounding on the bedroom door, waking the sleeping pile of limbs you’d collapsed in. 

“i’m gonna kill him.. i’m gonna fuckin’ kill him,” robin grumbles, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, staring daggers at the door. 

“eddie’s not answering!” he hollers, busting through the door, “we have to go back to rick’s! now!” pulling at nancy’s arm, presuming that steve had told him no to driving him around this early. 

you rouse just enough to really see the panicked look on his face, swinging your legs off of the bed to grab his shoulders, “what happened? we can go i just need five minutes.”

“he’s not answering,” panting between his words, “i told him to check in at six! it’s nearly six thirty.. something’s wrong.”

“okay,” you nod, trying to wake yourself up, “okay.. let me get dressed,” finding your discarded pants and practically jumping into them. 

dustin’s in the passenger seat before you can even run a brush through your hair, only just able to brush your teeth before he’s got his fist on the horn. 

“jesus christ dude,” you exclaim, shoving the keys into the ignition and speeding off before he has the chance to chastise you again. 

you’re grateful that it’s still early and the chances of getting a ticket are slim because you most definitely had broken some kind of speed limit, but truthfully it was mostly to get dustin to shut the hell up. 

knowing eddie meant that you knew he was probably fast asleep, ignoring the cracklings of the walkie for the sake of a couple extra minutes of shuteye. 

you turn down the long wooded drive, wondering if rick was back yet and just how he’d react to eddie’s ex-girlfriend and some random kid showing up on his doorstep at seven in the morning. 

you’re forced to slam on the breaks, almost sending dustin through the windscreen as eddie’s face appears before you, his hands slam the hood, screaming something nonsensical. 

“ohmygodohmygod,” he rushes, throwing himself into the backseat of your car, “you need to drive!”

“what the hell happened?” dustin probes as you turn around, only now seeing the barrage of cars parked outside of the house. 

“jason..” he gasps, “those fucking meatheads he hangs around with.. they just showed up,” sliding down into the footwell just as jason rounds the corner of the house, yelling something about your car as you hightail the fuck out of there. 

“they.. they- they think i’m the devil or some shit,” eddie gasps, his petrified face appearing in the gap between your seats, “they’re fucking crazy man.. fuck!” 

your fingers tighten around the steering wheel, hoping to speed away before they got wise enough to follow you. 

jason wasn’t much but his lackeys would have zero issue beating the shit out of eddie, or you for that matter. 

you instinctively go to the first place you can think of, which in hindsight seems like a mistake now the gravel is crunching beneath your wheels. 

forest hills was still crawling with cops trying to determine who or what had killed chrissy, though thankfully at daybreak their presence seemed to have dwindled a little. 

“we should be okay here for a while.. stay in the car until i get the door open,” flashing him a harsh glare to make sure he really understands. 

the three of you barrel into your trailer, grateful for the silence, unsure of how you’d ever explain this entire situation to your mom. 

“shit man,” eddie marvels the walls, mouth hung open, “haven’t seen the inside of this thing for.. a while,” a sadness to his tone. 

“yup,” choosing to ignore his glum cadence in favour of keeping the peace, “you can sleep in my bed,” tossing your keys into the bowl. 

“you sure?” eddie asks, though he’s already making his way up the hall, all too familiar with your trailer. 

“knock yourself out,” collapsing onto the couch to resume your own interrupted slumber. in a time not so long ago, you’d have relished crawling up next to eddie in bed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to tuck you up under his armpit. 

you brush off the glum feeling, wrapping your own arms around your body instead. 

dustin gets to alerting the wheeler residence, informing them all that eddie’s okay and you were going to hang out here until he came up with some plan.  

it’s almost noon before eddie rises again, asking if he can take a shower before dustin unleashes his plan. 

that horrid buzzing niggles it’s way back into your brain. a dull pain that quickly becomes sharp, stabbing at the sides of your head. 

“are you okay?” dustin questions nervously, ditching his notebook to step closer with caution. 

your fingers clutch your temple, unable to form a coherent sentence as the pain throbs through your frontal lobe. features screwed up in searing pain. 

“eddie!” he screeches, his fists pummelling against the bathroom door. 

eddie emerges, towel slung around his waist, barely able to turn the water on yet, “what? what the hell is going on?” quickly shutting up when he sees your sorry state. “are you okay? what happened?” rushing over without a second thought. 

dustin stands in horror just behind, watching as eddie’s thumb swipes the underside of your nose, coming back an unexpected shade of maroon. 

“she just dropped! i-i don’t.. i’ve never seen this before!”

“you’re bleeding,” eddie fuses, “dustin.. tissue now,” tilting your chin upwards. 

the pain subsides slightly, allowing your eyes to reopen and meet his, “there’s.. tylenol in the drawer,” letting him keep your chin between his fingers.

dustin speeds around the room, collecting supplies as your laboured breaths become easier, the ache dissipating as quickly as it came on. 

eddie dabs at your nose until it’s clean, shaking out two of the pills onto his palm for you to take. “what the hell was that?” nagging yet concerned all rolled into one. 

“i dunno, i’ve been getting these.. headaches, since i’ve been back,” looking between dustin’s horrified face and eddie’s distressed one.  “it’s probably nothing.” 

“that didn’t look like nothing,” dustin adds, still wary of your state. with all of the supernatural happenings at the moment, he had right to be. 

“it’s fine,” shrugging them both off before the questions got too much. “what’s the plan dustin?”

he and eddie share another glance, pretending that you weren’t right there in front of them. “uh..” erring the line of caution before jumping right into it, “okay so we need to go down.. down there.”

-

it’s stupid, reckless even. 

but what other choice do you have when the world is caving in and your ex-boyfriend is on the run from the police? 

eddie climbs through the window of the rv, pulling your eyes away with a quickness as his shirt rises up to reveal his lower back. 

the door swings open some moments later, gesturing for you all to climb inside as he gets to hot-wiring the gargantuan vehicle. 

you pile into the back, ducking below the windows while his fingers fiddle with the live wires. 

“do you even know what you’re doing?” nancy asks, her eyebrow raised in quiet concern. 

“nancy please,” eddie huffs, “while your dad was teaching you how to ride a bike, my dad was teaching me how to hot-wire a car.. i know what i’m doing.” 

she hums, settling into the passenger seat without another word. 

it shouldn’t be attractive. you should think it’s utterly reprehensible to steal and engage with such criminal behaviour. 

but you can’t. 

not with his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth like that, his hands whirring away as robin looks on with a screwed up face. 

the engine roars loud, alerting the entire trailer park to your existence. eddie hightails it into the back, choosing the empty spot next to you as he yells for steve to drive. 

this all so ridiculous, flying about the back of the rv as steve speeds out of town. finding somewhere solitary for you all to prepare. 

-

everyone seems to be in cahoots about something, scarpering from the rv the second you walk inside. leaving you and eddie to navigate through the uncomfortable tension alone. 

you take a seat anyway, picking up the discarded knife on the table, running your finger along the dull blade with a sigh. 

you’d never imagined that the two of you could ever be so awkward together, having been close for the entirety of your lives, it felt awful to not even want to look at him now. 

“i’m sorry.. about chrissy,” you swallow, still sharpening the knife, hoping he won’t say something to make you drive it into his throat. 

the rest of the group ‘prepare’ loudly outside. dustin screeching at the top of his lungs for steve to put him down while robin tuts in annoyance. 

eddie looks up, a little glum, “yeah.. she was a good girl, she didn’t deserve that,” dropping his own knife on the table in front of you with a clatter. 

“i didn’t realise you two were.. together or whatever,” the look on his face immediately forces you to regret your words, hoping the ground would just swallow you whole. 

he scoffs, “together?” knocking his knee into yours softly, “you thought we were together?” 

oh my god. it’s worse than you could’ve ever imagined. cheeks burning as your eyes meet his, “oh! i thought.. someone said.. i don’t- i don’t know,” clinging onto the knife with sweaty palms, deciding whether to slice your own mouth off so nothing else could fall out of it. 

“she was buying weed,” he laughs quietly, “pretty girl but.. not really my type, you know?” 

you nod, looking back at the table in hopes that he’d just drop it now. so much for being the nonchalant, cool ex. all you’d done is solidify your psycho status. 

“i haven’t really..” he begins again, never knowing when to leave well enough alone, “i haven’t moved on, i guess,” shrugging as his own gaze slips. 

if you were going to live through the end of the world, you hoped it’d come soon. the tension in this cramped rv was enough to make whatever was happening with the underworld seem like a dream. 

“oh!” is all you can conjure up. unsure of what response he was expecting from you. the breakup had been amicable.. sort of. to you, it made sense to breakup. you were away to college and he was repeating senior year again. you had almost died in the town you grew up in, he hadn’t. 

it was a multitude of happenings that forced you apart. grief and it’s intertwining webs of despair had proved too much for your relationship. too much for you to handle on your own. 

eddie hadn’t agreed. 

he couldn’t understand it, why you needed out of hawkins so bad. but he wasn’t there, hadn’t seen the things you had. 

the guilt had wrecked you for the first few months, afraid that you’d abandoned him in that very town for a new life after promising for so long that you wouldn’t. 

“sorry, i shouldn’t have said that- i didn’t mean anything by it,” he fumbles, pulling on his bottom lip, “well i did! just.. not the time or place, you get me?” digging himself further into his hole. 

your eyes meet his again, gnawing at the skin on your bottom lip, “it’s okay.. you don’t have to explain yourself to me.” 

“i think what i meant to say was that i missed you.. i’m glad you’re back,” eddie coughs, un-jumbling his words at last. 

it’s simple enough and really shouldn’t make your heart swell the way it does. you weren’t together. he wasn’t yours. that was that. 

but maybe there’s something about experiencing the end of the world with someone that makes you a little reminiscent. 

“i missed you too,” you smile, hoping that the overwhelming feeling of adrenaline is just from the interdimensional monster that lay beneath you and absolutely nothing to do with his doe eyes and plump lips. 

his eyes flicker, trailing from your eyes to your lips. the air seems to shift around you, leaving the room at an expedient rate. 

“you missed me?” eddie growls, looking back into your eyes, “then why’d you leave me here?” a deep set frown forming on his lips that wasn’t there a minute earlier. 

“what?” you question, taken aback by his sudden change in demeanour. 

“you left me. you left me here to die after you told me you wouldn’t,” he snarls, leaning closer. 

his eyes are glossy now, glazed over with what looks like tears. 

“i didn’t.. no,” backing away from him, “you were supposed to come with me.. you.. you..” shaking your head. 

eddie’s eyes change completely now, pupils turning a slick grey. a dark cloud fills the room, overflowing out of the tiny window, covering the furniture and your body with the thick smog. 

“it’s your fault,” the voice rumbles, no longer bearing any semblance to eddie’s, the walls decay in front of your eyes, wallpaper rotting as they crack and crumble. 

“it’s your fault,” it repeats, louder this time, “he’s going to die,” it cackles, filling the room with the booming voice. 

“no,” you scream into the void, thrashing around to find the source, “take me! take me instead!” yelling as loud as your throat would allow, but it’s futile. 

there’s no one here. 

eddie had gone. crumbled into a pile of ash on the floor, left on your own in some barren wasteland, the blood-curdling screams of menacing creatures travel through your body. 

“you can’t save yourself,” the voice booms, pulling your eyes to the horrific humanoid figure stood amongst the ruins. 

“what do you want?” you scream, stepping backwards over the rubble. 

the man.. thing just smiles, “i’ve been watching you for some time, you shouldn’t have come back here,” walking towards your cowering frame. 

“w-why? who are you?” fingers trembling as you attempt to grab onto something, anything to bring you back to earth. 

everything you grasp crumbles into ashes, disappearing before your eyes as you struggle to breathe. wheezing through the dark clouds, not an inch of relief. 

“we’ve met before,” completely ominous, “you don’t remember me?” tilting his head to the side. 

it feels like you’ve seen it before, somewhere in a far away dreamland. 

that’s when it clicks. 

the bad dreams you’d been having, there had always been something there, a presence you couldn’t ever see clearly. 

but now it makes sense. 

“h-how did you do that? how did you get into my dreams?” the rubble beneath your feet disappeared with every step. 

his head shakes and the landscape rumbles, a clattering of stones fall to the ground, jolting your body backwards. 

“you let me in,” he rumbles, stepping closer, “you’re the reason any of this is happening.. it’s time for you to pay.” 

his spindly fingers reach out, forcing you further and further back until your foot catches against  a stone, sending you flying backwards into a sudden abyss. 

you awaken with a harsh gasp, eyes opening to find eddie towering above, his brows threaded together in fear as the others screech around you. 

“she’s awake! are you okay?” eddie rushes, holding your face between his palms, “oh my god,” as white as a sheet, shock rippling through his body. 

you nod, blinking in the sudden bright light, exhausted from doing nothing at all. nothing felt real except eddie’s fingers brushing over your worn skin. 

too tired for tears, too afraid to speak. your eyes shut on their own, trying to ground yourself back in this reality. 

you relax into his hold, your breathing falling into line with his as their voices turn into humming background noise, focusing on the path of eddie’s fingertips instead. 

-

eddie hadn’t dared to leave your side, following you around like a lost puppy, watchful eyes widening every time you moved or breathed too loud. 

it would’ve felt suffocating if you weren’t scared to death. instead, it was a welcome comfort. a sense of familiarity in the most awful time. 

you felt immense guilt, knowing that the end of the world had to happen for you to speak to him again. the man you’d gotten married to a thousand times in your head, the man you’d had a plethora of baby names with. it was all so insane. 

dustin hadn’t exactly instilled much confidence in you. with news of fred benson and patrick mckinney’s deaths, he had figured out the pattern of attack. 

they’d all died the same way, eyes burst and their limbs snapped one by one. 

eddie had recalled how chrissy went into a similar trance, her eyes glossed over, completely unresponsive. though the moment he’d said it, his heart sank, realising that chrissy wasn’t the only one he’d witnessed like that. 

logically, that meant that you were next. 

dustin had uncovered what was essentially a countdown to your death. nobody wanted to say it, or even acknowledge it, but you weren’t stupid. 

that meant that whatever plan he had, he had to perfect tonight, ready to attack tomorrow. 

before it’s too late. 

he’d said the quiet part out loud. a shared grimace encompassing the room, pitiful glances in your direction. 

despite the fact that your demise was quickly approaching, you had felt a strange sense of peace. perhaps actually knowing your fate was better than not knowing. 

there would be an end to all of this. 

-

steve had offered his house for you all, his parents away on some trip for the next week meaning eddie could hide out in peace. a much better arrangement than the wheeler’s house again, ted had started to despise the groups of teenagers in his basement. 

sleeping bags and blankets strewn across his gigantic living room, sleeping bodies filling every spare inch of carpet. none of you wanted to be apart for more than five minutes. sleeping on top one another was the ultimate comfort. 

eddie had volunteered for first watch, keeping his eye steady on you from the corner of the room. 

it’s a little difficult to fall asleep knowing that he was watching you like a hawk, surveying every tiny change and movement. 

dustin was supposed to take over at some point in the early hours, but judging by the sounds of his rumbling snore, that wouldn’t be happening. 

you sit up, shuffling over to eddie’s perch, avoiding your sleeping friends on the ground. 

his eyes dart to the floor, as if he hadn’t been staring intensely at you for the last hour.

“d’you have a cigarette?” you whisper, knocking your knee into his. 

he nods, raising his brow, “you don’t smoke?” baffled by your question. 

you shrug, smiling into the darkness, “how would you know?” hoping it didn’t come across as snappy as it seemed. 

he doesn’t reply, just shuffles around in his pocket, producing the scuffed up box with his lighter. 

you nod towards the door, getting up from the floor with a small groan. limbs still aching and weary from your run in with death earlier. 

he follows behind, glancing at the room of sleeping teens before slipping out onto the porch with you. 

steve’s house was secluded, the massive back yard and the trees that surrounded it made sure that no one would find him here. 

you perch on one of the lounge chairs, gesturing for eddie to join you, watching the steam from the pool dissipate into the chilly march night air. despite being in the same tiny town, his house was worlds apart from the trailer park you two grew up on. 

he places a cigarette in your palm before sliding one between his own lips, passing you the lighter first. 

it’s a silent exchange, unsure if you could talk about anything without crying, though it’s meaningful. eddie had been selfish plenty of times during your relationship but at his core, he’d put you before himself each and every time. 

you light the cigarette, gazing off into the distance. hoping to god that he wouldn’t bring what had happened earlier up. 

“when’d you start smoking?” he asks, keeping a respectable distance between you though he wishes that wasn’t something he had to worry about. 

“when i found out that i was dying tomorrow,” exhaling slow, trying not to let your voice wobble. 

he sighs, “you’re not gonna die,” with less conviction than you’d have liked, “you can’t die,” shaking his head at such a ridiculous thought, “you won’t.. you won’t,” mostly for his own sake. 

your eyes squeeze shut, heart aching, squeezing your chest tight. last week you’d been terrified about your literature final and now none of it even mattered. 

“what if i do?” you ask earnestly, finally meeting his eyes, “everyone else has? we don’t know if dustin’s right.. if we can beat him,” shrugging helplessly. 

chrissy had died, patrick had died, fred had died. that meant you were next. 

his jaw clenches, wishing you’d stop, “you’re not,” throwing his cigarette butt to the side, “i won’t let you, okay?” 

you nod, albeit not believing a word he said. it was difficult to be so optimistic when the only evidence you had, said otherwise. 

“this vecna..” eddie begins again, “he doesn’t know what’s about to hit him,” sounding slightly more confident than before, “we’re gonna kill him and you’re.. you’re gonna live and graduate and do all that great shit you still have to do.” 

you don’t mistake the pain in his voice, the knowing that he should be there for all of that and that it had been his own fault for now being a footnote in the story of your life. 

“i really do miss you,” you clarify, “i’m not sure how much of our conversation earlier was a vision or not..” 

eddie chuckles, breath shaky and unstable, “no.. you said that before, you know- before you got possessed,” bumping his shoulder into yours, thankfully injecting his fucked up humour into the otherwise dark conversation. 

“was it scary?” 

he scoffs, almost offended that you’d even ask, “i shit my pants,” smiling with the side of his mouth, not fully committed, “reminded me of that stupid movie you made me watch.” 

he had never liked horror movies, this tough guy exterior that exclusively listened to metal was all a guise. he’d watched the film through his fingers, clinging onto your arm. 

“you were very brave though,” letting your cigarette fall to the floor, sure to be lectured by steve in the morning. 

he shies away, looking down for a brief second, “i’m not gonna let what happened to chrissy happen to you too..” meeting your gaze once more, “i promise.” 

“i don’t think you can promise that,” sharing a meaningful glance. 

“i can and i will.”

you nod hesitantly. his words, as much as you’d like to believe them, meant nothing when the supernatural was at play. 

his eyes flicker down to your lips, just like they used to so many months ago. but you don’t pull back, only leaning in further. 

if you lived past tomorrow, you’d no doubt regret this but as that wasn’t looking at all likely, what was a kiss between traumatised exes? 

eddie makes the first real move, his palm coming to cradle your cheek. you hope to god this isn’t another vision, that he won’t be cruelly torn away from you this time. 

“is this real?” you can’t stop yourself from asking, sighing as you do. 

“this is real,” he assures, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “d’you want to stop?” 

“no,” closing the already dwindling space between you, placing your hand on his in such earnest intimacy, a sensation you’d missed so deeply for an entire year. 

your lips touch, your eyes falling shut as his breaths start to steady, humming into your mouth in satisfaction. 

it didn’t feel so bad now, nothing could be so utterly terrifying while you’re touching him like this. 

eddie breaks away first, only a few inches of distance, just to gaze into your starry eyes, “i never thought i’d be able to do that again,” with utmost sincerity. 

“you weren’t supposed to,” shaking your head. if things had gone according to your plan, you’d have never seen him again. 

but it doesn’t work that way. 

fate had other plans for you. 

his lips twitch into a small smile, thumb drawing over your tired cheeks, “can i do it again?” 

“please.” 

connecting your lips once more, the cold tip of his nose bumping softly against yours. it was impossible not to notice how well you fit together, moving in synchronicity and with such tenderly care. 

inside, dustin wakes up in a cold sweat. looking over at the empty spot on the floor where you should be, but now we’re not. 

“shitshitshit,” he panics, whispering loudly to himself as he crashes around the house, stepping over the sleeping bodies. 

dustin’s panicked face shoots up from the window, gawping at the barely visible sight, straining to make out what the fuck he was even seeing. 

it only dawns on him when your lips leave eddie’s, foreheads resting together that it would be in his best interest to not interject and end up with his ass beat. 

you come back in some twenty minutes later, after a plethora of shared kisses and soothing words. deciding to settle in the same empty spot on the floor, his hand only comfortable enough to grace your waist, under the blanket. 

now wasn’t the time for questions or prying eyes judging your decision. you weren’t even too sure yourself. 

it’s the only time you’ve felt comfortable enough to sleep tonight, watching his chest rise and fall, knowing that he was here, alive and that for right now, you were too. 

-

the carnage pulls you from your sleep, people yelling over pancakes and glass clattering as max’s shrill voice scolds lucas for being too loud. 

you look around at the mess of blankets and empty sleeping bags, the door to the living room was closed though it made no difference. 

you’d have preferred to stay in the empty room, unwilling to address the situation with eddie last night but your stomach rumbles, pulling you out of the room and into the bright, bustling hallway. 

robin swings out of the kitchen at the sound of your presence. she’d clearly tried to help with the breakfast efforts, though unsuccessfully, emerging with flour down her shirt, jeans and somehow in her hair. she smiles gently at your weary eyes, “we didn’t wanna wake you.. you were knocked out.”

“thanks rob,” even though their incessant arguing and yelling did eventually rouse you from your sleep. 

in the kitchen, dustin sits with his feet swinging off the tall stool, a too-wide, toothy grin growing on his face the second he spots you, “well good morning! how’d you sleep?” a sarcastic little quip that you know holds something deeper. 

“great thanks, you?” narrowing your eyes as you fill a mug with coffee. 

he waits for steve to exit the room, turning back to you with the biggest shit-eating grin imaginable, “yeah, really good,” he twists his body to peer out of the door, ensuring no one could hear, “so you and eddie huh?” 

“me and eddie what?” refusing to entertain his cryptic questions. 

“i saw you two last night, k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” wiggling his stupid brows as he shovels yet another pancake into his uncontrollable, jabbering mouth. 

“and i saw you wet the bed last year, do you want to go there?” flinging his taunting right back at him. 

dustin’s mouth falls open, “you can be a real bitch, you know that?” taking his heaped plate back into the living room. 

steve strolls back in, staring down dustin’s scowl before his eyes trail to you, “what’s wrong with him?” 

you smile, tight-lipped and fully loaded as you pour a cup of coffee, “oh nothing,” looking over the food with slight disgust. the hunger hadn’t really hit you yet, too occupied with trying not to die to care about pancakes. 

eddie interrupts your noisy brain, cackling as he comes into the kitchen, “maybe you should stop being such a smart-ass then,” immediately quietening down when he spots you. 

you don’t speak, instead communicating with a shared look before you focus on the cup of coffee in your hand. 

steve looks slowly between the two of you, “you good?” 

“yeah.”

“yup.” 

you both simultaneously reply, refusing to acknowledge the tension in the empty kitchen. 

“o-kay,” steve whistles, deciding that sitting with dustin and his terrible attitude would be far better than whatever this was. 

it’s not supposed to be awkward. 

it was just a kiss. or multiple. 

a few kisses between exes during the end of the world. that’s all. 

“d’you sleep okay?” he dares to ask, feeling comfortable enough to make eye contact now that steve had left. 

“yeah.. thank you, for looking after me,” smiling gently at the bleary eyed boy. 

“i told you i would,” he reaffirms, “you’re not doing this on your own.” 

“i know,” you nod, swallowing the growing lump, “but i’m scared eds.. i don’t want you to die because of me.” 

eddie tuts, rounding the counter to place his hand on your arm, “that’s not-,”

dustin hollers, falling through the kitchen door, giving away the groups prying position, “ow shithead!” shoving lucas backwards as they materialise one by one. 

dustin, lucas, max, erica. 

in that order.

“are you fucking serious?” you screech, throwing your arms into the air. 

this was low even for dustin. 

“sorry! sorry! go back to confessing your love or whatever the hell was happening!” scurrying off to finish his pancakes and no doubt inform robin and steve what they’d witnessed. 

“i can’t believe him,” you frown, turning to eddie who’s stifling his laugh. “it’s not funny,” but your lips twitch anyway. 

“it’s kinda funny,” his hand still lingering on your arm, his smile reaching his eyes, “you don’t care if they know.. do you?” 

you shrug, perhaps you did care a little bit. you were the one who’d broken up with him, deserted him for college. maybe you didn’t deserve a second chance. 

“it’s okay..” he nods, as understanding as always, “this is weird, i get it," as understanding as he was, he wasn't able to conceal the dejected puppy gleam in his eye.

"it's not that," pathetically reaching for his hand, "i'm just.. i'm supposed to die today, i don't want to.. lead you on, or get your hopes up or whatever," putting your finger up to stop eddie from interrupting, "i don't need you to tell me that i'm not. just let me spiral about this," smiling as you speak, truly a means to soothe yourself, not just eddie.

"o..okay," his whole speech shut down, leaving him with nothing. his eyes flit over to the mountains of food steve had whipped up, "you should eat.. you've got a busy day of not dying to get through," smirking right through your snide glare.

-

something feels off, a nervous twisting in your stomach that makes you want to call the entire thing off. 

you could go down there and fight this with them. screw whatever prophetic visions you’d had. 

eddie hadn’t even wanted to go, desperate to stay in the attic with you, watching over in fear of losing you again. 

“what if.. what if something happens and they don’t know how to fix it? they’re kids.” he’d pleaded, sat on the porch outside of the large house in your final moments of peace. 

“dustin can’t do this on his own,” you cooed, only slightly wishing that he could execute this plan on his own. “you have to go. i’ll be okay..okay?” not entirely certain about the truthfulness of your words. 

he takes a sharp intake of breath, fingers forming a weak fist, “you better be,” the moon reflecting off of his caramel iris’, capturing the entire universe in two tiny orbs, “i don’t want to lose you again.” 

your head dips, quickly losing the ability to look him in the eye, overwhelmed with guilt and the reminder that you had been the one to end things. 

“it’s okay,” grabbing your hand to place on his bouncing knee, “i’m not.. mad about it, or upset and you shouldn’t be either,” squeezing your fingers in a bid to draw your eyes back to him. 

“i don’t-,” huffing a frustrated sigh, unable to form a coherent thought when the impending battle loomed over your heads. “everything is so fucked and i don’t know if we’re gonna make it this time.” 

eddie’s fingers lace between yours, holding your hand tighter, “we’re gonna be fine.. okay? everyone is gonna be fine,” inching closer in the thick of the night, “i’m gonna be right back here, as soon as that bastard is dead.. i promise.” 

this time, you punctuate his sentence for him, springing forward to latch your lips to his, using your free hand to cradle his stubbly cheek. 

you long to kiss him forever, never escaping this embrace, knowing that there’s a chance it won’t happen again. his lips soft, desperate to stay attached to you, too. 

“oh! shit! uhm-,” robin stutters, clattering out of the door. 

you break apart, containing the low groan of disappointment, “sorry rob.. ‘s everything okay?” eddie’s as bashful as ever, his cheeks flushing a deep scarlet, even in the darkness. 

“yeah! uh.. nancy told me to tell you that we’ve gotta go now or it’ll be too late,” swinging from the door as she speaks. 

he glances at you again, longing for just one more minute of this peace. one more second of your touch. 

but it doesn’t come. 

they leave in a hurry, cycling maniacally away to the trailer park, leaving you, lucas, max and erica to conduct the rest of the plan. only fragments of hope left as you watch them disappear over the hill, praying for someone, anyone to just keep him safe.

-

everything is eerily calm, far too silent for the situation at hand. 

you sit cross-legged in the attic, looking between lucas and max who had taken it upon themselves to converse through a notepad. 

they reminded you of you and eddie once upon a time, giggling teenagers trying to navigate love together. 

it’s sweet, full of the same adolescent innocence you were desperately trying to regain. 

eventually they break apart, lucas traipsing over the creaky floorboards to check on you, equally confused by the serenity. 

he turns to walk away, almost frozen as his brows furrow and his pupils dilate, “you killed them.” 

your mouth falls open, immediately hushing him so as to not screw up nancy and dustin’s carefully thought out plan. 

“you killed them all,” he parrots, a sinister air surrounding him. “eddie trusted you and you killed him.. you’re a murderer,” the venom flying off of his tongue, severing your heart in two. 

the plan had worked. you were back in wherever it was you were taken before, confirmed by the sudden darkness, the wallpaper splintering and putrid stench that had filled your nose. 

lucas isn’t lucas at all. 

a mimic to the higher power cursing your town, only a small part of his master plan to destroy hawkins. 

your surroundings melt away, lucas nor max no longer appearing before you. instead, you’re faced with a flash of red, and a maniacal cackle. 

henry, as you’d since learnt he was called, begins his tirade, just as you’d planned. 

“why didn’t you stop them?” he booms, appearing in the corner, “you let them go after everything i showed you.”

he didn’t scare you, not anymore. when the time was right, lucas would slide max’s walkman over your ears and pull you right out of this hellscape. 

“they’re going to kill you,” standing stoic, resistant under his thumb. “you can’t hurt anybody else.. not anymore,” gritting your teeth, such determination to have him hear you. 

his burnt frame disappears right before your eyes, a loud, blaring laugh appears from behind. 

once again turning to darkness, only this time it’s accompanied by a chorus of screeching. feral creatures and familiar voices circle around your head. 

his torment is ruthless, voices, namely eddie’s rattle around your brain, wailing and screaming, loud enough to make your ears ring and your head ache. 

your eyes open to your trailer, watching yourself argue and cry at eddie. 

the day you broke up. 

“you’re just gonna leave me?” he despairs, just as feeble as the first time he’d said it. 

“i can’t stay here eddie! you don’t get it! i nearly died.. i can’t do that again,” and yet, here you are. 

a shrill, shrieking sound fills the room before the scene crumbles before your eyes leaving you to the decaying scene you bore witness to before. remnants of the creel house float through the scarlet sky, threatening to crash into each other. 

“maybe i can’t hurt you, but you can hurt yourself,” vecna’s voice squawks, flashing forward to a scene you’ve never seen before. 

eddie, with his back against a door, you can only assume he’s trying to keep something out. a grotesque mix of blood, sweat and tears seep down his cheeks, the door beginning to thump from the pressure of whatever was on the other side. 

“this all could’ve been so easy,” rapidly wiping the imagine from your view, only to appear mere inches away, decrepit hand rising above your face. “don’t you wish you had just listened? don’t you wish that you had just come with me?” now mocking with his tone, condescending even though he’d gotten you exactly where you’d wanted. 

“no.. no no no,” arms suddenly restricted by a slimy tendril, forcing your face to meet his, “you’re not real.. you’re not-“ a sudden, awful constriction wraps around your lungs, squeezing the air from your body. 

“i’m not.. real?” he mocks, the corners of his mouth creep upwards, “i didn’t want this to happen this way but you’ve left me no choice.” 

you gasp loudly for breath, struggling within his grasp for a means out of it. where was lucas? or max? what happened to the plan? 

over the last few days, you’d become quite comfortable with the idea of dying. it became fact, an inevitable consequence of getting yourself tangled up in this entire thing. 

but now, as it looms over your head, you want out. 

you want to be with eddie. you want a dozen kids and a quaint house on the corner of maple. maybe a dog or a cat that he’d picked up on the side of the road. slow dancing in the kitchen after a day of warm sun. 

you want to live. 

his fist closes, leaving your lips blue and begging for oxygen. “this is what had to happen.. your time-“ his rambling cut off by a ground shattering boom, the tendril dropping your body at once. 

he stumbles backwards, grabbing onto his chest. your vision too blurry to coherently make out what was happening, a mixture of colours that swirls away quickly. 

your aching bones thump to the floor, gasping for air as the familiarity of the creel’s attic fills your peripheral. 

max and lucas swarm your body, muttering over one another, their small hands shaking in fear as your head is placed on max’s lap. 

“what the fuck? what the fuck do we do? lucas!” she hollers at lucas, as if either of them had any idea. 

they shouldn’t have to be concerned with any of this, nor tasked with the pressure of keeping you alive. your breathing steadies though your chest still heaves, leaving the comfort of her hold to scan the room. making sure that this was real, that you were home. 

four pairs of feet appear before you and not one of them the dusty pair of reebok’s you were waiting to see. 

collapsing once again, in a crumpled heap on the dusty floorboards, your voice cracks, broken as you speak. still reeling from the onslaught of abuse you’d endured. 

“where’s eddie?” 

[hearts4hughes]

the fight | jack hughes

jack hughes x fem! reader

a/n: something quick as i finish up some part 2s for other jack fics

warnings: talk of a fight (not sure if that’s a warning or not?)

gif is not mine

one second you were chatting with jim, and the next you’re out of your seat, trying to get a better view as jack takes down aho.

“oh my god.” you mumble, watching him pound on the player below him. you frantically look over to jim who seems unfazed as ever. “jack’s in a fight!” you exclaim with wide eyes.

he chuckles at your obvious observation, taking another bite of popcorn. “he’ll be fine.” your eyes dart back and fourth between jim and the fight on the ice. he lets out another hardy laugh as your mouth hangs agape. “don’t worry. i mean he’s winning, so that’s good!” he jokes.

you smile unsurely, laughing to yourself at the fact jack’s own father isn’t even slightly fazed at his first nhl fight. “sure…”

as the refs break up the scene, jack looks up towards your seat in the arena. worry drowns your features until he breaks out into a toothy smile, showing off his newly missing tooth. he gives you a quick wink, sending butterflies off in your stomach, and returning his focus back to the game.

he finds this amusing.

“looks like someone tried to impress you.” jim observes the flirty looks his son sends to you. your cheeks flush a deep red.

“he looks too happy for someone who just got in a fight.” you point out, taking your seat next to jim once again.

the rest of the game goes by smoothly. the devils won 8-4 with a huge lead. along with that, aho steered away from jack and refrained from taking cheap shots at other players.

jim decided to head home after the game. he’d call later to congratulate his sons and talk about their game play. which left you here now, mindlessly walking through the tunnels of the prudential center. as you round the corner near the locker rooms, you wait and strike up conversation with other hockey wags.

“hey, baby.” jack’s voice causes you to redirect your attention from the conversation to him. he wears a proud, but smug smile, practically waiting to be scolded by you.

you look at him unamused. “you started a fight!” you whisper yell, grabbing his hand and leading him into a more private corner.

he laughs, bringing you into a deep hug. “good observation, honey.”

“it’s not funny!” you bite back a huge grin, trying so hard to keep your composure. “you could’ve gotten hurt.” you pout, nuzzling your face into his neck.

“well it’s a good thing i didn’t.” he pulls you away from his neck, staring into your eyes with a wide smile. “aho had it coming for him. he was cross checking and slashing all game. i wasn’t going to take it anymore.”

he presses a soft kiss to your lips, bringing you back against his chest. you breath in his freshly showered scent, savoring the moment, even if you were trying to act disappointed.

“you’re lucky you’re hot.” you sigh against him.

“even with my missing tooth?” he teases playfully. you giggle at his slight lisp. it was barely noticeable, but it made you smile like an idiot when he struggled to fully pronounce letters like t or s.

“yes, jack.” you reassure, pressing another kiss to his lips. “even with your missing tooth.”

[klonnieshippersclub]

Sweet as Honey

So excited for Klonnie Weekend! Here's a little something "sweet" (as the title suggests). This is set during season 3 at the Mikaelson Ball and features Klonnie's first kiss.

"You look delectable," Klaus practically purred, leaning close to her. He was internally giddy; Bonnie had agreed to accompany him to the dance floor, even though she didn't seem happy. He knew from the start that she couldn’t reject him without causing a scene, and they were both fully aware she didn’t want that.

With a heated glare, Bonnie pleaded, "Klaus, please."

"I'm only speaking the truth," he said as he tightened his hold on her body against him. "And I thought you preferred 'Nik.'"

"How can you be so bold with people listening?"

"There's enough commotion that no one can hear us."

"You know better than anyone that vampires' hearing ability is exceptionally, strong," Bonnie exclaimed with a tilt of her head. He knew what he was doing, so why pretend otherwise? She wondered what his angle was.

"You're right," he answered with a smirk. "I just don't care about being overheard."

Bonnie and Klaus had grown close in a short period of time. Their bond was more emotional than physical, and it was established under the guise of a truce between the Mikaelsons and Bonnie's friends. Following a recent heartbreak from dealing with her cheating ex, Bonnie found herself feeling isolated. When approached by the Original Hybrid with an offer she couldn't refuse, she found herself becoming infatuated with the most evil person she knew.

She accepted his invitation to have access to his library of grimoires but only when he was present. He didn't ask for anything in return initially. When she arrived at the Mikaelson Mansion to study the spell books, he finally asked her for the payment he had in mind. He didn't want or need money, but he requested to taste her blood.

As they waltzed, Bonnie’s core tightened at the memory. She could recall her arousal upon him drinking from her neck and the kisses he planted upon her skin but never her mouth. Klaus guided her through spells with winks and playful teasing in his library. She knew he was attracted to her but couldn't take his affection seriously considering the dress he gifted her best friend.

As she was brought back to reality, Bonnie remarked, "You don't have to lie to me."

"I have no reason to deceive you," he replied.

"You have the perfect motivation: to drive a wedge between me and my friends."

"Have you considered that I am tired of keeping our relationship secret?" he questioned with a raised brow.

"What relationship?"

"'Relationship' isn't the most accurate word. Does 'mutual romantic interest' suffice?"

"I thought you liked secrets. You're the one who's been flirting with me behind closed doors and pursuing my friend in front of the world," Bonnie said, hating the feeling of seeing Klaus entertain Caroline. He always told her it was only meant to irritate Tyler, but it hurt. After the situation with her unfaithful ex, she vowed to never feel like that again.

"You know that means nothing to me," said Klaus, as his hands wandered lower towards her rear. He'd show that little witch who he truly wanted.

"I know you like to play games, and I refuse to be one of them."

"Oh, I get it. You're jealous."

Bonnie gasped at his delusional accusation. "I am not jealous, and that is absurd to suggest," she responded before she pulled away to leave him.

Of course, Klaus would never make things easy for her, so he followed. "It's absurd that you can deny that I only want you."

The Original grabbed the witch’s hand, and she was suddenly in his embrace again. However, she was unamused by his shenanigans.

"Your actions say differently," said Bonnie, with irritation painting her face.

"You want me to claim you? Fine." Klaus swooped down to capture her mouth in a heated kiss. All he could think of was the taste. Her blood was like wine, and her lips were honey. "You're mine."

[autistichalsin]

When considering Halsin's polygamy, do you think it is just his way of coping with the scars and traumas of his past? He does admit that monogamy is acceptable, but not for him, and he often talks about roaming. However, the more I play this game, get to know him better, and analyze his character, the more I start to doubt that polygamy is not truly what Halsin wants. He has been through so much - pain, suffering, and torture. What if his polygamy is a shield he uses to protect himself from further pain? Perhaps he has realized that he's fallen in love with Tav and now he is afraid of losing them. Just as you mentioned in your previous post, he is afraid of being alone, rejected, and abandoned.

Just a note- it's polyamory, not polygamy. Polygamy refers specifically to marrying more than one woman.

I absolutely do not in any way, shape, or form, think that he's only polyamorous because of his trauma. Polyamory is who Halsin is. There's a devnote in Halsin's scene that says "sincere- this is a core belief of his."

Wood elves are polyamorous by default. The entire cultural belief is that jealousy is a waste of time, and exploring multiple relationships, as long as all people involved consent, is only natural. That is how he was even before becoming a druid.

This isn't an attack against you, anon, I know you were asking a genuine question in earnest, but I am so beyond tired of people trying to reinterpret all of the polyamorous characters in this game as actually monogamous people who are afraid/broken. Why do people insist on doing this? Is it that hard to conceive of a character with an alternative sexuality who actually is happy that way?

Let's just set aside the characterization reasons and look at it from a pure logical perspective. Halsin is the one to bring up polyamory with the player. He is the one to say this is a fundamental part of who he is. If the player answers that they don't have the same nature as he does and don't want a polyamorous relationship, the relationship doesn't progress. If Halsin was actually just pretending to be poly to avoid being abandoned, why would he not jump in at that point and go "oh, actually I'm okay with a monogamous relationship too, please don't leave?" Why would he be okay with the player leaving over this part of himself if it wasn't actually part of himself, just a lie he told to avoid being left alone? Because poly is who he actually is, not a lie he tells himself to engage in emotional self-harm.

Further, if he was so desperate not to be alone that he would deny who he is, he would actually be more likely to lie about being monogamous, not the other way around. Most people will flat-out refuse poly relationships (because it's not for them) and even call poly people perverts or cheaters. Halsin has probably forewent many other relationships before just because of this fundamental incompatibility. If he was scared of being alone, he would be far likelier to pretend he was happy with one person, so that he would be able to find a partner without navigating that situation, than he would to pretend to be some identity that already makes it harder to find a partner to begin with, and that often causes intense strain on relationships when mismanaged to the point that it can easily be the cause of many relationships ending.

Being poly isn't something you lie about because you want not to be alone- being poly makes it infinitely harder to find a relationship just by its nature.

Halsin is "poly and traumatized" not "poly because he's traumatized." It is absolutely absurd to deny his repeated statements that this is who he is and what he wants. Again, no offense, anon, and I hope this doesn't upset you, but I really have no patience for attempts to dismiss a core part of Halsin's identity as a maladaptive coping mechanism.

[topguncortez]

Take It | Jake Seresin x Female!Reader

Jake Seresin Masterlist | Main Masterlist

smut prompts!

Synopsis: Jake can usually handle a bit of teasing, but as long as he gets what he wants out of it. Inspired by the scene where Hangman says his infamous "stop" line

word count: 2.0k

warnings: teasing, age gap, oral sex (m receiving), public sex, head pushing, dirty talk, a dash of brat tamer jake, name calling, spit swapping, hair pulling, cursing, tears.

You were being a brat, and you knew it. And so did Jake, who had shot you probably the thirtieth warning glare of the night your way. He was trying to keep his calm, but with the way you were acting, he was ready to throw you over his shoulder and walk out of the bar. 

He was wearing his khaki uniform, and so were most of the aviators that stood around the pool table. After a day of work, working on flight plans, and going over training events, the Dagger Squad wanted a relaxing night at the Hard Deck. Jake had stopped by home to grab you, knowing that you had a hard day with classes of your own. You were studying nursing and in your final year. Jake was proud of you, knowing that you had been working hard all week for this exam, and had aced it. He wanted to celebrate. 

You and Jake were roughly ten years apart, him being thirty-three and you being twenty-three. You seemed mature for your age when you met, but Jake quickly saw through that front. But he loved it. He loved how you were dependent on him to show you the world outside of the little collegiate bubble you lived in. You weren’t as innocent as some girls your age, but you weren’t as outgoing either. Jake felt protective of you when the two of you went out to local bars, knowing what the college-age male thought when he saw you. Jake was sometimes no better than them. Like right now. 

The shorts you wore was barely covering your ass, and with one wrong move, you were flashing the whole bar. He wondered if you were wearing that all day, knowing you, it was highly likely. He loved that you had a fashion sense, your clothes and shoes slowly starting to take up his closet, despite having your own. He could also see the black lace bra you were wearing under your white tank top. You looked as if you could give Cindy Crawford a run for her money. Jake felt his cock stir as you once again bent down to take a shot at the game of pool you were playing. 

“Oh no!” You pouted, “I missed.” 

“Here, let me help you,” Jake said, pushing up from his barstool. You smirked as he walked over, and put you in front of him. He leaned you over slightly, guiding you to line up the shot. You grind your ass against his semi that was straining in his pants. Jake grunted as he helped you make the shot, “There ya go.” Jake said, and stepped away from you, causing a small whine to leave your lips. He gave you yet another warning glare, but that didn’t deter you at all. 

He wanted to see how long you’d keep up the act. You usually give up the act rather quickly if Jake wasn’t giving you wanted. But so far it had been going on for nearly an hour, and he knew that the black panties you were wearing had to be absolutely soaked. You were a glutton for punishment, and he knew it. He knew how much you loved looking at your bruised ass in the mirror the next morning. He had caught you one too many times taking pictures and saving them to a private photo album. Jake slowly takes a sip of his beer as he watches you bite your lip and look down at the pool table. 

When Bob shot the final ball into the pocket, you clapped your hands and kissed his cheek. Jake’s grip tightened on the bottle he was holding, and it was a miracle that he somehow didn’t break it. Bob just blushed and patted your back as you skipped away from him, over to the bar where Rooster was standing. Part of the whole act was that you had money on the line, a bet made with Jake’s once enemy. Jake liked to tell everyone that he wasn’t the jealous type, but again, that was another front that everyone could see right through. 

“How’s it goin’, sugar,” Rooster said as he looked down at you. 

“Good, Roo,” You smiled, “He’s totally looking over here so if I were you, I would do something like put your arm around me,” Rooster smirked and did exactly what you said, his hand settling low on your back. 

“This alright?” He asked and you nodded, feeling holes being burned into the back of your head from a certain green-eyed man, “You really want that fifty bucks, don’t ya, sugar?” 

“Uh, of course,” You said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “That’s almost enough for me to get my nails redone next week.” 

“Well then,” Rooster said and picked up the beer that was placed in front of him, “Let’s go over there and get you that fifty bucks.” 

You smirked as Rooster took your hand and guided you back over to the group of aviators. You perched yourself between Rooster’s legs, sitting on his left thigh. He held you securely in your spot, as you draped one of your arms around his neck, your other hand coming up to rest on his chest. If looks could kill, Jake would easily have two more confirmed shots under his belt. 

Jake let the act go on for a while longer, watching as your fingers went to play with the gold chain around Rooster’s neck. Jake hated to admit it, but the two of you looked good together. Maybe it was the way that both of your skin tones were perfectly kissed by the sun. Or maybe it was how the two of you fit so naturally together, his hand resting naturally on your hip. Or maybe it was the fleeting glances the two of you would share. If Jake was a fool, he’d think that you had a thing for Rooster. But Jake had what other men wish they could have, he had your heart. 

“Oh god, Rooster, you’re just so big,” Your voice is what snapped Jake out of his repertoire and had him looking at you from across the table. You were standing in front of Rooster now, both arms draped around his neck while you leaned in to press a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. Jake saw red as Rooster rested a hand right above your ass. Jake was up out of his chair before he could even think and made his way over to the two of you. You were moving your hand down Rooster’s abs when Jake grabbed your wrist. 

“Stop,” You raised an eyebrow at Jake and looked back at Rooster, “We’re leaving.” 

“But-” 

“No,” Jake cut you off, “You’re not going to sit here and act like a brat. Get up, let’s go.” 

You had that glint in your eye, that tiny bit of mischief as you stood up from Rooster’s lap and followed Jake wordlessly through the bar. You tried your best to suppress the giggle in your throat as he led you to the bathroom of the Hard Deck. The moment the two of you were inside, Jake spun you around and shoved you up against the door. You could feel the outline of his hard cock against your ass, making warmth flood through you. 

“You gonna explain what you were doing out there with Rooster?” Jake’s voice was gruff as he whispered in your ear, “Or am I gonna have to fuck the answer out of you?” 

“I was being nice,” You pouted, “You said I should-” 

Jake turned your body around, so you were facing him, “I said don’t be a brat. You were being a slut.” 

You bit your lip, trying to keep up the pouty persona, but if there was one thing about Jake, he knew all the right buttons to push to get you to break. He took a step back from you, looking you up and down, before undoing his belt. You didn’t even need to be told to get on your knees, as you dropped before him, mouth already drooling at the thought of having him in your mouth. 

“Now you want to be a good girl,” Jake tsked as he walked towards you. With a hand tangled in your hair, he pulled your head back so you were looking up at him, “Always a good girl when you want daddy’s cock.” 

“Mhm,” You nodded, licking your lips. 

“Then be a good girl, and suck daddy’s off.” 

You nodded, pushing down Jake’s boxers and freeing his thick cock from the confines of his boxers. His tip was red and angry, a drop of precum already leaking from it. You licked the tip gently, moaning at the salty taste of him. If there was one thing you knew about Jake, it was that he loved messy blowjobs. You grabbed his cock with both hands, spitting on the tip of it. Jake grunted, watching you through hooded eyes as you rubbed your spit up and down his shaft. 

“Hold your tongue out,” He commanded, and you obliged. Jake fisted himself in his hand, tapping his dick on your tongue several times, “You love when daddy’s cock is in your mouth.” You moaned as he rubbed the tip over your lips, mixing saliva and pre-cum over you, “Messy girl,” He chuckled, “Go on, suck me off like the slut you are.” 

You nodded eagerly, removing Jake’s hand at the base of his cock. You started slow, licking the tip again and moving down his shaft, making eye contact with him the whole time. Jake sucked in a breath as you wrapped your lips around him and started to suck him off. 

“Fuck, there you go,” Jake moaned, keeping a hand in your hair, gently guiding your movements, “C’mon, go deeper,” He encouraged pushing your head down until your nose was flush with the thin patch of pubic hair he had. You felt tears in your eyes, as Jake kept your head down, thrusting his hips into you ever so slowly. You looked up at him with large doe eyes, unshed tears threatening to spill. 

“Fuck!” Jake groaned, not letting up as he fucks your face. You close your eyes as you gag around him, squeezing your fists tightly, “Take it. You wanna act like a brat, take it.” You blink twice for yes, feeling his hips start to stutter, knowing that he was close, “Fuck. Fuck, sweetheart. Gonna cum in that pretty mouth of yours.” 

You blink twice again, as Jake lets out a loud groan and his hips stop. You moan at the feeling of his cum filling your mouth. He pulls out of you, a thin layer of sweat on his brow. 

“Open,” You do as he commands and show him the mouth full of cum, “So good,” He praises, wiping a stray tear from your face, “Swallow for me.” You keep your eyes locked on his green ones as you swallow the cum in your mouth. He tucks himself back into his boxers and dress pants, fixing his belt. Jake then helps you stand from the floor and pulls you into a kiss. He could still taste the saltiness of his cum on your tongue, “What do you say we get out of here and I return the favor.” 

You smirk at him, “I have a better idea,” Jake tilts his head to the side, “Can we invite-” 

“Nope,” Jake says, “You are mine and all mine. I don’t share.”

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[utilitycaster]

Do you think part of the D20 journalistic bias comes from D20 being edited? It gives the appearance of much more effortless play and lets them control the pacing in a way unedited play like CR simply can't do. They get to (potentially) hide a lot of stuff people would jump on as flaws while CR has no choice but to let it all play out. I greatly prefer CR's approach, despite it biting them in the ass a bit through no fault of their own.

Answering these both together to group cause and my opinions, and I do want to note this is specifically about journalism/press coverage, not their respective fandoms even though there's obviously some overlap.

I think there's a couple things, but I do want to note this was actually prompted by Daggerheart, not Critical Role. The response from several prominent voices in the Actual Play journalism community, whom I will not name here but whom I do not respect intellectually, really was, within hours of the open beta (which as far as I know they didn't have early access to - more on that later) "um it could be better, I don't like xyz and also it's sooooooo important to have criticism" and again, it is important to have criticism, but also you act like D20 has never had a mediocre moment and that Kollok is brilliant, so.

This...got away from me a bit. I'd say I'm sorry but actually I adore writing thousands of words about actual play and it will happen again but I'm putting the detailed answer below a cut. The short answer is I think a lot of Actual Play journalists actually sort of fell into their jobs through being vaguely involved in nerd spaces and aren't actually equipped to talk intelligently about TTRPGs and actual play as a medium that should, at its best, be a perfect fusion of narrative and mechanics. So instead they're distracted by flashy edits and bright lights and cool noises and some abstract concept of "novelty" and write only about that. Also Critical Role is the 700 lb gorilla in the AP space (though not, actually, the TTRPG space) and doesn't give them early access and that's meaaaaaan. Indeed, for all I think a lot of their coverage of D20 and Worlds Beyond Number is obsessively fawning, I also think it's extremely surface level, frequently factually wrong, and fails to get at what's truly excellent about those shows either.

I think, honestly, the biggest one is that I don't actually think a lot of Actual Play journalists watch series in full. I was looking for Polygon coverage of Fantasy High Junior Year and they have one glowing article but it's more about Fantasy High as setting and institution and D20 "changing the game" (also more on this later) to the point of outright contradicting the pull quotes they used from interviewing Brennan Lee Mulligan (also more on this later). So I started looking through their coverage and actually, quite a number of their write-ups are based on only one episode, or half a season. Clearly, they haven't read the full open beta (nor have I, but I think their complaints about the character build process belie a profound misunderstanding of what TTRPGs are, also more on this later). So editing is certainly part of it because it's really easy to see cool special effects and sound design within one episode and shit out a hacky article about it, whereas actually getting to the substance - character relationships, cohesive narrative, storytelling - requires work that I do not think they're doing. And on the one hand I do kind of get it, because yeah, if journalism is your livelihood then you perhaps do not have the time to watch 4 hours of D&D a week for 2-3 years if you're only going to get one article every six months out of it. But I don't think the answer is "focus intently on Microsoft Powerpoint-esque scene transition tricks while ignoring that nothing occurring at the table is actually fun to watch." For more on this, see this post.

The second, which is very relevant to Daggerheart but also is actually a big gap in D20 and WBN coverage in my opinion, and which I put in the tags, is that I actually don't think a lot of journalists have a solid understanding of TTRPGs nor of most genres. And I think Critical Role has a particularly good understanding of both these things, actually, if one skewed towards collaborative storytelling that is not rules-light. I think one really big example is that one person within the space is mad at the Daggerheart questions for the character archetypes because what if your character doesn't fit these. I think this is dumb as shit. I actually think that a common criticism of D&D - that you can't play ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING - is not valid, or rather, it's a valid opinion to hold but if you want to play a character who doesn't fit into the available archetypes perhaps you need to find another game. We all inherently understand that Blades in the Dark characters will be members of a criminal organization in a relatively low-magic setting, correct? That you can't show up to BitD and play a lawful good wizard prince because that's not the story being told? Or like, how in Honey Heist, you are a bear and you are trying to get honey, and you cannot play a human child investigating the old abandoned house at the edge of town, but there's a cool game called Kids on Bikes that will let you do that? Great! Why is this suddenly so hard to understand in the realm of heroic fantasy, that you will fit into specific archetypes? Why do people's brains, if they have them to begin with, vanish suddenly? I know I just did a big old rant that included this within it but genuinely I think a lot of people are deeply ignorant of heroic fantasy, or don't like it, and either is fine, but then they get mad at the heroic fantasy game for having heroic fantasy archetypes when the answer is "maybe this will never make you happy because it's not for you." (Frankly, I think this is also why they love D20, because it doesn't really do straight-up heroic fantasy, and that's fine, but they do keep acting like doing a Game of Thrones pastiche is equivalent to the invention of the wheel.) Like...I remember in the Midst Q&A that Xen said they tend to not like playing typical D&D classes, but their solution was to, you know, create Midst instead of sitting around going "actually, because D&D doesn't support cyberpunk narrative and the character archetypes within very well it is an utter failure." (I could go on forever about how actually TTRPGs are not a showcase for your already extant OCs to prance around but that's a totally separate post).

Mechanics and story are inherently intertwined, is what I'm trying to get at (sorry I'm really tired and have a lot to do but I'm passionate about this answer, it will be rambly, she says like 3 pages in) and I really don't think most actual play journalists get this. At all. And I do think that CR, and Daggerheart, and the people working for it, and especially Spenser Starke, Rowan Hall, Matt Mercer, and Travis Willingham, get this more than almost anyone else in the field. I also think Brennan Lee Mulligan and Aabria Iyengar get this, and the thing is, for all the praise showered upon them, much of which I think is deserved and most of what I think is undeserved is not because they are lacking but because the person writing about them is an idiot crediting them for things they (Brennan and Aabria) would never claim to have invented, their mechanical prowess is rarely if ever written about well. Fantasy High Junior Year's downtime mechanics actually fill in a famous gap in D&D, namely, downtime, and provide an excellent marriage of story and mechanics in my opinion, and I haven't really seen any discussion, because that would require watching the part of the TTRPG show where they play the TTRPG, and knowing the vague word on the street about D&D criticism that isn't just "*nods sagely* capitalism is the BBEG."

And finally: related a bit to the edit but Critical Role used to not be able to provide any early access to press, because it was literally a live show, and I suspect they never broke the habit, and I think that is for the best. As discussed a lot of D20 coverage actually feels like they watched the press screener and then never returned to the show. And I do not know the politics about them, but given that several of these publications (notably Polygon, but some others) have been shitting on Critical Role for several years, and just generally given the way CR's leadership vs. how D20's leadership respond to fandom pressure, I suspect Critical Role does not give these journalists a ton of early or increased, if any. Honestly, why should you, if you're getting interviewed in Variety? And I think the journalists are mad, because they think they're special and should get treated as such.

I do want to wrap something up, and I want to thank @captainofthetidesbreath for talking a little about this in game design/ttrpgs and giving me the idea, but in story, you should be challenging your audience, expanding their horizons, and being new and interesting. In the actual playing of TTRPGs, especially a new one, it is vital to be inclusive and easy to understand and patient and provide points of reference. I really feel like many Actual Play journalists and some TTRPG ones as well have this equation flipped and are looking for challenging concepts that most people will never be able to get a group to be willing to play, and bells and whistles in production, but leave story as an afterthought. Critical Role designs games to actually be played and to be used specifically to tell good stories, and puts story before production, and I think that undercuts those journalists' whole deal.

[catyo90]

Romance Scenes I Imagine for Veilguard Companions

Davrin: Outside Rook sees him with his griffin Assan, training it and nurturing it, As they speak he reveals how he found and/or tamed her. Rook asks if how big Assan will get and plays fetch with her. Inbetween throws Rook and Davrin flirt with each other and the last throw causes Assan to jump on Davrin while Rook laughs and helps him up, with a small pause inbetween.

Taash: Like other qunari, trains hard and in need of practice asks Rook to join her for a sparing match, here the player may decide to let her win and go easy on her, or the opposite. Who ever loses laughs it off and the winner comments how cute the loser looks when they laugh, after the loser gets up and says they should do this again sometime. The winner hates to see them leave but loves watching them go.

Harding: In the nearby lounge, Rook asks about her past with the Inquisition, She tells how she was there in the final fight against Corypheus and how Solas was good/bad. (Depends on Inquistors view). She then shows them all the corresponding letters between her and the past companions, with some hidden mentions of past relationships when Rook asks if she ever was with anyone else. She claims that its a tale for another time. After that Rook asks to keep her company while she writes responses, where Harding smiles.

Lucanis: Rook finds him in the Library (early morning or late night.) overlooking old contracts on multiple mages and others in need of a quick end. He sits at a desk with a cup of coffee and kettle. Rook asks if he ever regrets taking a life, (answers depends on class) where he explains that contracts are like a game of Wicked Grace, some cheat the deck and win, others play honest and lose. He tries to change the subject, he seems tired where he sips his coffee and offers Rook a cup to enjoy with him.

Bellara: In the wave of a sudden inspiration to create, Rook finds her tinkering with fade magic, where a small minor explosion of colorful smoke surrounds the room, Bellara walks through now covered in rainbow hue, she snorts and laughs as she pulls Rook into the room showing a new update to her gauntlet. Rook impressed and scare-roused from her intrigue offers any help, (all classes as well get blasted with another cloud of color.) Bellara laughs at Rook and wipes away the stains on their face before punching Rooks arm laughing again at their wacky experiments and conclusion.

Emmerich: In the study Rook walks in on him using magic on Manfred, who makes puns about the situation and after noticing you gets distracted causing the spell to cause Manfred to fall into a pile of bones, Emmerich, slightly annoyed and now has to deal with putting him back together properly, basically volunteers you to help each time you pick up a bone, Manfred jokes claiming its in the wrong spot. While this happens Emmerich gets to know you better and says how your not entirely hopeless as Manfred cackles laughing with a arm around saying if he wants your attention he needs to be nicer.

Neve: Rook sees her in the main chamber of the base, smoking on her pipe with her hair down reading a particular book, Hard in Hightown. She claims how the way Varric writes is quite good but romanticized as the true art of finding the culprit is scientific, not emotional. (LIke Sherlock Holmes) How the art of deduction can change the life of everyone, but it can be messy at times as well. Where we see her cross her protetic leg under her other. She is unsure whether to show it or not. After all the incident was not light on the mind. Rook eases her mind in telling her that she doesn't have to talk about it until she is ready.

[romanestuffsposts]

I usually have this thing where I feel pain in my fingertips whenever I'm very anxious and subconsciously start pressing them.

Maybe a fic where Daddy!Stucky can see when I'm doing this and they immediately hold my hands and kiss my fingers and gently massage them and talk me through what I'm anxious about 😭😭❤️

Hi there love! 💜

I know anxiety can be really hard to handle but if you have pains added to that horrible feeling it’s worst and I’m really really sorry that you have all of that.

I send you all my love and all my courage whenever you need it! You’re strong and you’ll be able to get over all of it. I know everyone say that so maybe you don’t believe what I said but trust me, I got over it. You need time and no pressure. I promise you it’ll get better and I’m here for you if you need it 🫶

I hope you enjoy what I wrote for you ❤️

Enjoy <33

*****

Warnings : feeling left out, anxious little reader, pain in fingertips, sadness, kisses, pet names, trying to change your mind, comfort, reassurance

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : You feel left out by your friends but your Daddies remind you how important you are for them and how they could never live without you

*****

You didn’t had those kind of feelings in awhile and it took you by surprise. I mean, you're used to go to the tower, spending time with your friends and your Daddies's friends. Nothing is anormal here but the feeling is still there..

You're at the tower for only two hours and everything were good, everyone greet you so well like always and you ran upstairs to go play with your friends as soon as you could.

You played all together and you loved it, that until you started to feel left out. You tried to come back in the game they decided to play but it was one game that you didn't know well and no one wanted to explain to you how to play.

After maybe ten minutes, you heard that dinner was ready. You watch everyone walking out of the room together, laughing about the game they just played while you stay sit on the ground.

You try to hold back your tears and stand up. As you walk down the staires carefuly to not fall, you start to press your fingertips. An old habit you took when you felt like today.

You sat at the big table, in between your Daddies and look down at your fingers you keep pressing, one by one. Your Papa slides his hand down your back and looks down at you "did you had fun ?"

You shrug one shoulder and keep looking down, your Papa frowns "something's wrong ?" he asks quieter. He knows you don't like to bring attention to yourself.

Your Daddy looks down at you after hearing your Papa and immediately notices your little hands. He takes a breath and stands up, he takes you in his arms and looks at everyone "we'll be back in a bit, don't wait for us" he smiles before nodding at Steve to come with you.

Your Daddies go upstairs and sat on the couch of their office, with you on their laps "what's wrong, princess" your Papa asks. You shake your head and keep looking at your fingers with wide eyes.

"Baby-" your Papa takes one of your hand in his so you have to stop pressing your fingertips which instantly brings back the pain you felt when you weren't touching them.

You whine and before you have the chance to cause a scene, your Papa lets go of your hand. You immediately start again to press your little fingers, little tears falling from your eyes.

"hey baby" your daddy gently says "look at me please" You lift your head toward him and he kisses your little nose "don't think about the bad things that are on your mind. Think about good things, things that you love" he takes your hands in his making you whine again.

"think about us" he kisses your first fingertip "think about your favorite cartoon" he kisses your second "and your favorite story"

Your Papa grabs your other hand and start to do the same "you're with us now. All worries are behind you, the worries you felt can't enter the room we're in right now. You're around good memories, nothing else" he says between the kisses.

You sniff and melt in their arms, against their chests. "do you want to tell us what happened ?" Your Papa asks, caressing your fingers, one by one with his index.

You look down at your hands and your Daddies playing with them to change your mind from the pain "wanted to play but they didn want to" you mumble, biting the inside of your lips to prevent more tears.

"they didn't want you to play with them ?" your Daddy frowns "well too bad for them. You know how much better you make the games when you're in it so they lost a big moment of fun" your Papa says

"don't be sad because they let you out. We know how much you hate that but please don't let it get to you. You don't need others to make you happy, if they don't want you in their games then too bad for them" You Papa adds

"But-t what if you don want me anymo too" you sniff, a little cry getting out of your throat at the idea.

"Baby we'll never, never don't want you anymore. We can't imagine our life without you. When we're away for work and you're not with us for a few days we feel like our world isn't working. You're the battery we need to wake up and we'll always, always want you in our games" Your Daddy says, his hands on your cheeks and his eyes in your bright one.

You give him a tiny smile and nod your head. You let your head fall on his chest and sniff again "it hurts but we'll make you feel better" his hand slide on your thigh as you melt further into him while your Papa keeps playing with your fingertips.

"do you want to stay here a little longer or do you want to go eat downstairs ?" your Papa asks, bringing your fingertips to his lips.

You watch him kissing each one of your tips and then massaging them "wanna stay here" you whisper. You Daddy rests his cheek on top of your head.

Your Papa decides to get comfortable and grabs your ankles and rests your feet on his laps "we'll stay here as long as you need to" he says and run his fingertips on your ankles, careful to not tickle you.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, your muscles and your mind relaxing under the sweet touch of your Daddies.

[muddyorbsblr]

friday nights & hot dates [kinktober 2023: slow & soft]

See the full Kinktober 2023 Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: A few months after he first showed up at your house to keep you company on your birthday, Conrad finally tells you how he feels. | sequel to 'you deserve better'

Pairing: James Conrad x Reader

Word Count: 6.1k [please prepare drinkies & snacks accordingly]

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, get on outta here i won't ask twice); unprotected p in v sex; language; insecure reader; the smut scene is 1.3k words long idek if i should say sorry for this… [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: simp Conrad; a touch of aftercare in the end 😳🫠

Dick-tionary (aka smut guide): smut starts at "Once he realized what you were about to do" and ends at "We're nowhere near done"

A loud chime boomed across the Monarch training field, announcing the top of the hour. The setting sun only barely blocked by the visor atop former Captain James Conrad's head and doing a piss poor job of straining his eyes as he watched on the first troop of soldiers assigned to the lab.

He'd been tasked to train the few handfuls of privates to be able to face the challenges that Skull Island would have in store for them throughout subsequent missions. They were decent enough, but to handle both navigating the hostile, monstrous terrain and serving as protective detail for the scientists on their tasks to obtain more samples and document its ecosystem, they would need to be exemplary. At the top of their game.

Especially if they are to be protecting Y/N, he thought to himself. Then again, he probably wouldn't let any of them anywhere near you. He would see to your protection personally. Make sure that there was little to no room for error when it came to your safety.

But they all had a long way to go before he decreed any of them ready for the field. And none of them would be closing the gap on their endurance or their agility within the next few minutes. The chime that rung out through the field not only signaled the top of the hour, but the end of your own work day, and he wanted to at least see you off to your ride home. Perhaps walk with you to the pick-up point.

"Alright, that's enough for today," he called out to the privates, everyone standing to attention at his word. "We'll resume on Monday morning. Get adequate rest this weekend."

He took off his training jacket and his visor, haphazardly running his hand through his short cropped hair. While he took a quick inventory of his belongings before heading off to your lab, one of the women privates approached him.

"Do you need anything, Pearson?"

She began to shuffle her stance, somewhat incapable of meeting his gaze as she spoke to him. "The other guys and I were going to check out the new Mexican place that opened up a few blocks from here. I was--I mean we were wondering if you'd like to join us?"

Pearson straightened her stance in a particular manner, jutting her chest out in a blatantly clear attempt to draw his attention to it. You're fresh out of luck, my attentions are for one woman and one woman only. And she's in the lab.

"Thank you for the invite, Pearson, but I have what you and your peers might say a…'hot date' tonight." He fought against the smile playing at the corners of his mouth at the thought of being on a proper date with you.

"Oh." She barely tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. "Okay then. Have a good weekend, Sir."

"Don't look now but he's here again," Brooks muttered from across the lab, the sound of him clacking away on his keyboard taking the briefest pause to tell you that once again, the former SAS tracker James Conrad was right outside the door. "You ever gonna share with the class how you two became a thing? 'Cause we have a bet going on in the lab about who made the first move and--"

"There's nothing to share, Brooks, because we aren't a thing," you cut him off, taking on a snippy tone while you ran the genome of the last flora sample from the set you collected in Skull Island against every recorded organism known to man so far. "We're friends, that's all. Give it time and he'll get tired of slumming it out with me and go back to haunting pool bars and nameless hookups."

"I don't know, Y/L/N…I never had a friend look at me like that."

The results from your test finally came up on the screen, confirming that the flora on the island were all, in fact, undocumented. You took a quick screenshot and placed it into your report. "Looks like we're getting funded," you announced, your half-deadpanned tone met with a mixture of excitement and fear. "Don't everyone stand up at once, I know how pumped we all are to get back to the island of death."

You finally stood up from your desk, looking outside the door and seeing Conrad outside giving you a little smile when your eyes met. You tried to ignore how your heart started doing backflips in your chest at the sight of him, keeping your expression fairly neutral as you gave him a small wave in response. Once your computer had finished shutting down, you grabbed your things and bid everyone goodbye, stopping at Brooks's desk last.

"If what you mean is looking at me like a barnacle he can't scrape off his boat, I hope you never have friends that look at you like that, my guy."

Before you stepped through the door, your fellow scientist let out a final remark. "You know, Y/N, for someone so smart, you're a bit of an idiot sometimes."

"Takes one to know one, Brooks," you shot back, stepping across the threshold and almost immediately becoming face-to-chest with the tracker that towered over you effortlessly. "Hey Conrad," you said slowly, trying your best to keep a hold of your composure. "Did you need something from us? I think I have Bryant running CMP for the guys you're training you should have the results tomo--"

"I didn't come here for the blood tests, Y/L/N," he cut you off, giving you another little smile that had your pulse thumping violently at your throat. "I erm…it's Friday." His eyebrows scrunched together in the slightest wince at his words.

"It is…" you echoed lamely, starting to tap away at your phone to get an Uber home, holding back the urge to sigh in relief seeing that your ride was only a few minutes away. "Have a good weekend, then," you tried to wave him off, pointing vaguely at the pick-up area, starting to awkwardly shuffle away from him.

He reached out and wrapped his hand around yours, stopping you before you got away too far. "Actually, I was thinking…perhaps we could go and grab a bite to eat? There's a new place that opened up just a short walk from here. Maybe we could try it out?"

As if on cue, your stomach let out an audible grumble, rudely reminding you that the last time you ate was this morning before you left your house. Before you could dwell on it any further, you canceled your Uber, giving him a tiny smile of your own. "Lead the way."

Dinner was a rather quiet affair, the two of you starting off by sharing a plate of nachos before you ordered your mains. Sometime before your entrees were served, a small group of people you recognized as the privates being trained as the Monarch Defense Team walked through the doors, the women immediately spotting Conrad and tossing a scornful dismissive look your way.

"What's wrong?"

His voice took your attention away from the group, the motion of him reaching across the table to take your hand in his causing a resounding stomp from across the restaurant followed by a barely contained "What the fuck?!"

"It's uhh…it's nothing," you waved off, trying to slowly pull your hand away so as to not elicit a stronger reaction from the group and grab his attention. "Just…thinking about work. I have to put a recommendation for another mission to the island in my report."

"We'll be better prepared this time," he reassured you, his thumb rubbing across the back of your hand in a soothing motion. "We have a better idea of what we're to face when we get there, and what not to do. And with enough time the troop that I'm training might even be field ready, so you and your team would have better protection."

Your neck twitched at the idea of the woman with the derisive eyes being tasked to protect you. Might even just throw you to the gigantic insects voluntarily. "Right…at least the team will be safe."

"And you, Y/N," he insisted, giving your hand a light squeeze. "I'll see to it myself, I promise you."

You nodded at his words, feeling your face strain at the smile you tried to give him before slipping your hand out of his and standing up. "Ladies room, I'll be back in a few."

While you were in line for the restroom, your thoughts wandered to how you could potentially word your recommendation so that maybe you didn't have to go with the rest of the team back to Skull Island. You weren't physically cut out to be in such a high-stress environment, and frankly you would be more of a liability if people had to look out for you on top of trying to survive a hostile environment.

When your turn came up in the queue, you were stopped in your tracks by someone wrapping their hand around your arm in a claw-like grasp, yanking you slightly backwards. "We need to talk, Y/L/N," a woman seethed.

You swore your blood chilled to near freezing point when you saw the woman private from Conrad's troop, her hateful eyes and vicious sneer too close for comfort.

There was something troubling you, Conrad could tell that much as he watched you in line for the restroom. Much as he usually found it adorable when you were muttering to yourself over your research, he had to fight to resist the urge to stand up and do what he could to somehow put you at ease.

He knew that you weren't all too excited that you had to return to the island, but his gut told him that it was more than just that. You seemed almost fearful when he mentioned the troop that he was training, and not in the way that told him it was simply because you doubted their ability to guarantee your safety.

Did you not realize that he would never even think to put your safety in anyone's hands other than his own? Didn't you know how valuable you were to him? Of course he would keep you safe. He'd put you in the same tent if he could just to make sure you'd never leave his sight.

The sight of a woman marching towards you as if on a war path had him leaving his seat within seconds, immediately recognizing it to be Pearson. When she stopped you from moving and he clocked the vice grip she had on you it had him seeing red. He saw the way you flinched back when she started hissing in your face, her words making every muscle in his body tense and burn with the itch to protect you from someone so obviously spiteful.

"Don't tell me you're the hot date that Captain Conrad turned me down for, this has to be the biggest crock of shit I've ever heard in my life," she spat out. Your face contorted with obvious discomfort from her talon-like hand tightening around your arm, nails undoubtedly digging into your skin.

"Listen, Private Pearson, I think there might just be a misunderstanding," you spoke softly, your tone laced with caution. "He's probably gonna go to said 'hot date' after this, I'm just his friend. We're friends…I think…"

Silly sweet girl, he thought to himself. Are you really so unaware of how I see you?

"Do you really think I'm that stupid, Y/L/N? I don't need to have a PhD in God knows what the ever loving fuck to know that you're into him. The only thing I can't figure out to save my life is what the fuck he sees in a mousey jumpy little thing like you, and where you found the goddamn audacity to steal him away the way you did."

"I'm not trying to steal anyone," you insisted, trying to wrestle your arm out of her hold. "We're just friends, Private Pearson. Anyone with a functioning brain can see that he doesn't want me like that. You want him, he's all yours, you won't hear a peep out of me."

"You better be right," she scoffed, releasing you with a slight shove, causing you to stumble backwards and fight to find your balance for a few seconds before righting yourself on your feet again. "If you know what's good for you, you'll stay the fuck away from him. Preferably before you see what happens when your stupid little face gets me triggered."

Rather than give her a verbal agreement, you simply nodded your head, scurrying off into the restroom, your face looking as if it had been drained of color and your bottom lip quivering with an obvious concern for your own safety.

So this was why you were concerned over your protection detail if you had to return to the island. Of course. Who would ever feel safe if someone assigned to the team that was tasked to protect them behaved the way that Pearson was behaving now? Who was to say that it wasn't beneath her to intentionally endanger you out of sheer spite?

The private let out an arrogant huff, flipping her hair and standing up straight with a smug look on her face before making her way back to her table with the rest of the privates in her troop.

"Pearson," Conrad spoke, letting his irritation over the entire encounter lace his tone. She stopped in her tracks, turning slowly to face him with a touch of fear in her eyes. Good, you should be afraid after the way you just spoke to the woman I love.

"Cap…Captain Conrad, hi!" Her cheeks strained with the smile she tried to keep plastered on her face despite the obvious nervousness that remained in her eyes. "We're so glad you decided to join us after all, we're seated over--"

"You're dismissed. Don't bother coming in on Monday." Her face fell immediately, indignation coloring her expression. "If you cannot treat the people you're expected to defend and protect with professionalism and respect, then you're not fit to stay on this team, let alone be deployed to the island."

"Come on, all this for a shifty little nothing? This is completely unfair!" she scoffed. "You could do so much better than her--"

"Hold your damn tongue, Pearson. I won't have you disrespect her--"

"She can't even hear us!"

"But I can." He began to raise his voice, calling the attention of the other patrons in the restaurant. "That's the woman I love you're talking about. It would be wise for you to choose your next words very carefully."

All the color drained from her face and she stood up straight again, back at full attention. "I apologize, Sir. I'll have my locker cleared before the weekend's over." And then she made her way back to her table, heavy footsteps sounding throughout the whole restaurant.

As Conrad sat back in his seat waiting for you to return, he replayed his own words over and over in his mind. After all this time keeping his emotions bottled in for the sake of preserving what friendship he had with you, the words had finally formed and solidified what had been building ever since the day he met you on the way to that forsaken death island.

He loved you.

By the time you made your way back to your table, you spotted Conrad signing a receipt and placing his credit card back into his wallet.

"You know I keep a tally on how many times you've refused to let me pay, right?" you sighed, taking out your phone and once again trying to book for an Uber home. "I'm perfectly fine with and capable of splitting the bill."

"Next time."

"I also keep a tally on how many times you've said exacty that." You shuffled your feet awkwardly where you stood, avoiding looking at both him and the table that sat his trainees, including the cruel witch that was Private Pearson. "Well uhm…I should get going, it's getting late. Enjoy your weekend, Conrad."

He reached out before you took another step, placing his hand at the curve of your waist. "Walk with me back to the lab and I'll drive you home."

The sound of a fist slamming down on one of the tables made you take a step back from his hold. You didn't have to look to know who it was or what caused the outburst. "I-I really don't wanna be a bother, it's fine. Really. I can take care of myself."

You tried to step forward again, making him stand from his seat, placing a large hand on your shoulder before running down the length of your arm to lace his fingers between yours. "You could never be a bother for me, Y/L/N," he spoke softly, lightly touching your chin with his other hand. "Come on."

For the most part throughout the drive to your place, he was touching you. Whether it be holding your hand between stoplights to make you stop picking at your fingernails, or rubbing circles on your knee to stop you from fidgeting, all the while keeping his other hand steadily on the wheel.

It was hands down one of the most illegally distractingly attractive things you'd ever seen. A sight that you thought was only reserved for leading ladies in those romance books you read, definitely not something you were supposed to experience in your lifetime.

It had you fighting back the urge to pout when you saw your house start to come into view, knowing that in a few short moments it would all be over. He gave your knee a light squeeze once he'd pulled up in front of your hourse, making quick work to make his way around the front of his car to open the door for you and undo your seatbelt.

The combined scent of his woodsy citrusy cologne and something that was just uniquely him seared itself into your brain as his face was mere inches from yours. He made it even worse reaching for your hand to hold you steady while you stepped out of the car.

"Thanks, Conrad," you muttered when you got to your door, your mind spinning from the feel of him running his thumb across your knuckles. "You should uhm…probably get going. Don't wanna keep you from any other plans you might have tonight."

You felt your pulse start beating furiously at your neck when he answered you. "What plans?"

Didn't Pearson have a full blown meltdown over him talking about a hot date and then seeing you with him at dinner? What the fuck was he going on about?

"Come on, Conrad, you don't have to pretend, it's just us here. Pearson practically yanked my spine from my throat earlier at the restaurant harping on about you having plans tonight so really, I'm sure you have better things to do on a Friday night you don't have to feel like you're…I don't know, obligated? To spend time with me. And at least you'll stop looking like you're doing some weird pity charity work, too--"

"Y/N, stop." He took a step toward you, closing the distance and framed your face in his large hands. "The only plans I had for tonight were with you. Do you remember what I told you all those months ago, that first night I came here?" You only stared at him blankly, wordlessly prompting him to answer it himself. "I wanted to let you know that I'm here. For you. And I still am. I always will be."

Before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. Fleeting, but it resumed the near violent fluttering in your stomach from the contact. He gave you no time to react before he pressed his lips to yours again, wrapping his arms around you and cradling your head with his hand before pressing you against the door.

"Look at me, sweetheart," he breathed out when he broke the kiss. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat when you saw how dilated his pupils had become after that kiss. "How is it that you're so observant of everything around you and yet you fail to see what's right in front of you?"

"Conrad what--"

"How could you look at me and not see a man so desperately, so irretrievably in love?"

You swore all the air left your lungs at his words. In love? No. This couldn't be real. This was beyond simply improbable, this was impossible.

There was no way on this Earth that he felt the same.

"I can almost hear the gears in your brilliant mind turning, Y/L/N," he said softly, weaving his fingers into your hair as he proceeded to press tender kisses on your temple and the side of your face. "Invite me inside. Let me take you to your bedroom. Let me show you what you mean to me."

Before you could think about it any longer, you wordlessly slipped your key into his hand, slowly nodding your head. The only response you got from him was him latching his lips onto your neck, groaning into your skin as he lifted you off the ground with one arm, unlocking your door with the other.

He'd carried you all the way upstairs to your bedroom, constantly pressing a kiss wherever his lips could reach. When he started fumbling for the light switch, you tried to hold out your hand to stop him. "No lights," you muttered. If you wanted this to go anywhere even remotely good tonight, that would require him not running for the hills the second he got you naked.

"Without the lights, I can't see you, sweet girl," he said back teasingly, kissing along your jawline until he captured your lips, smiling into the kiss.

"Exactly," you murmured against his lips, causing him to chuckle against your skin.

"Seeing you is the best part of my day," he told you simply, flipping the switch on and bathing your bedroom in a warm white glow. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the brilliant smile he gave you once he saw your face. "There you are."

He set you down on your feet, touching the top button of your shirt with a question in his eyes, only proceeding to undo the button when you have him a slight nod. Once enough skin was exposed to him, he started to trace a line of kisses across your collarbone, running his hands down your arms to strip the shirt off from you. And then he sent your mind racing as he gave you the same treatment working both your pants and panties down your legs.

"I've dreamed of this since the island," he whispered into your skin, kissing his way back up to your lips as he reached behind you, unclasping your bra. "Lie down on the bed, my love. Let me see you."

He kept your hand in his as you lowered yourself to lie on your back, your heart thundering in your chest and your lip quivering as his eyes hungrily roamed your body. Thoughts began to swim in your head again, of how different, how much less toned nearly all parts of you were compared to him. Compared to the women he'd been with before. You tried to pull your hand away from his, to start to cover yourself.

Once he realized what you were about to do, he moved to hover over you on the bed, placing his hand in the space between your arm and your torso to block your way. "No," he said simply before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. "Don't hide yourself from me." He kissed his way down your neck to your chest, paying close attention to your breasts, holding you steady as you squirmed under him while he kissed and sucked your nipples into stiff peaks.

"Conrad…" Your voice came out faint, the air too thick to breathe while you drowned in his attentions. His lips moved down your stomach, peppering kisses along your mound before placing his hands on your inner thighs and gently parting your legs, opening yourself more to him.

You clenched around nothing watching him lick his lips before his eyes found yours, desperate whimpers coming out of you when he started kissing along your inner thighs. The ache between your legs started to grow stronger the closer his mouth got to where you craved him.

"Conrad!" Your back arched off the bed when he licked up the length of your slit and pressed a fleeting open-mouthed kiss to your clit.

"Lay back down, sweetheart." Your back immediately met the mattress again at his soft spoken order, your stomach fluttering violently again at the sight of him standing over you and pulling his shirt over his head. "You are the most breathtaking sight," he breathed out. "My love…"

"Could say the same from here," you shot back, still struggling to breathe properly under his gaze. The air was practically stuck in your throat the second his hands went to his pants, taking his time to undo his belt and pants, every muscle on his perfectly sculpted body moving and flexing as if he was trying to seduce you with such a seemingly mundane action.

As if he needed to seduce you.

The sound that came out of you was borderline inhuman the second he pushed his pants down his legs, and you'd gotten a good look at the sheer size of him. There's no way that's gonna fit, you thought nervously. "Conrad, I don't--" You huffed out a deflated sigh. "It's been an embarrassingly long while since I've--"

"It's alright, sweetheart." He quickly made his way back to his position on the bed, pressing a line of kisses along your jaw until he reached your lips, making an almost relieved sound against your lips. "We'll go slow. Please just tell me if I hurt you, that's the last thing I'd ever want."

Your eyes flew open at the feel of his length pressing against your entrance, your walls stretching just shy of the point of discomfort as you accommodated to his size. Any other thoughts and doubts in your mind took a backseat to the sound of Conrad's soft groans as he inched his way into you.

You'd never felt this unbelievably full.

He moaned your name in your ear. "Like you were made for me." He pressed his lips to your temple, the gesture somewhat calming your erratically beating heart. "I'll keep going now."

"Wait Conrad you what--Oh!" You felt a thrill at the back of your head once he pushed even further in, more arousal rushing and slickening your inner walls clenching around him as if pulling him deeper into you. All you could utter over the overwhelming pleasure he was subjecting you to was a faint whimper of his name.

"I love you, Y/N," he sighed in contentment, his warm exhale hitting your already heated skin before he resumed kissing along the side of your face.

"Don't say that," you blurted out. "You don't have to--"

"I want to," he cut you off, moving his head to capture your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue licking at your bottom lip. "I've wanted to tell you for so long please don't tell me to stop. I can't--"

"No one's ever said it. Not to me. I'm not--I've never been--"

Your words stilled him. He rested his forehead on yours, the tip of his nose brushing against your own. "All the more reason for me to tell you." He muffled your moan with a kiss when he inched in even more. "I love you." He kissed up your neck, gently capturing your earlobe between his teeth before kissing the same spot. "I'll say it so often everyone around us will be sick of hearing me say the words."

"Conrad…" you cried out when he finally bottomed out, your hips flush together. "Please--"

"I love you." He started moving his hips in slow grinding circles, repeating the words every time he fully entered you.

The words were lodged stubbornly in the back of your throat; all you could utter was his name while your body trembled trying to raise your hips to meet his thrusts. Meanwhile a vicious voice in the back of your mind questioned if this was even real, refusing to accept any reality where a guy like James Conrad actually genuinely fell in love with you.

You lived by the saying that if something sounded too good to be true, then it probably was. And this…this sounded like a chick lit romance novel where the devastatingly handsome decommissioned soldier fell for the nerdy scientist that most days couldn't even bother to check if her hair looked alright from the back.

This was definitely too good to be true. And all you could do now was allow yourself the fleeting opportunity to lose yourself in the pleasure he was more than capable of and seemed quite willing to give you.

And brace yourself for the moment he pulled away. The moment he finally realized that yes. Yes he could do better, actually.

Before you could dwell on it any further, he pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts when his fingers made contact with the throbbing bundle of nerves above your entrance, rubbing at the spot with the same languid pace of his thrusts.

"You feel divine, my love," he moaned in your ear, pressing his lips to a spot behind it that sent your mind reeling, the tension tightening in your stomach even further. "Come for me, Y/N." He upped his pressure on your clit, still keeping the pace with his slow, deep thrusts.

The coiling tension finally snapped when he started sucking at your skin, your walls convulsing around him while your body shook under him, your hold on his shoulder blade weakening until you finally let go, arm landing on the mattress with a soft thud. He stilled his movement inside you, capturing your lips in a tender kiss while you came down from your high.

"I love you," he kept whispering between kisses. The words had you feeling the traitorous tears prickling in the back of your eyes, every part of you filled with the overpowering urge to say them back. Tell him that you felt the same.

Instead you wanted to slap yourself for the question that slipped from your mouth. "Wait what about you?"

The smirk he gave you in response had thrills shooting throughout your body, feeling the faintest tinge of embarrassment in the back of your mind when you felt your pussy clenching around him at the sight. His mouth stretched into a devilish grin as he thrusted into you in return, his eyes filled with an obvious mix of sexual and romantic intent.

"Don't you worry about me, sweetheart," he rasped, starting to slowly grind his hips again. "We're nowhere near done."

He's not coming back. He left the bedroom and give it time, you're gonna hear him leave the house.

You were being irrational, and most of your mind recognized your thoughts for what they were: absolutely batshit crazy and dead wrong. For one, Conrad left the room without a stick of clothing covering him, telling you he was going to get water. He didn't know how to navigate most of your house so it would reasonably take him a few minutes to actually go get it and come back up.

That didn't stop you from making your way to the head of the bed, and crawling under the covers, drawing your knees to your chest as if you were bracing yourself for emotional impact. You caught a glimpse of your reflection on the full-length mirror, instinctively bringing your hand up to your hair to start working at the knots and tangles that developed over the last few hours.

Conrad came back to the room at that moment, holding a water bottle and two cups, giving you a soft smile as he looked on at all the effects from your lovemaking. "You look like an angel…perched on a cloud." He handed you your cup before pouring one for himself, raising an eyebrow at you when you remained sitting motionless and staring at him blankly. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"I just--I thought you were just gonna get for--"

"Myself?" You nodded at him once he finished for you, making him click his tongue in disappointment, realizing what kind of experiences you'd had before. "You're making it too easy for me to spoil you. I could never be so selfish." He briefly touched his glass to yours, the clinking sound filling the room before you both downed your drinks.

Even while he climbed back onto the bed, situating himself beside you and pulling you into his arms, your irrational thoughts that he'll redress himself in a few minutes time and leave plagued your mind.

"You're looking at me like you expect me to disappear," he murmured, lightly tracing along the lines of your face with his fingertips. "What's wrong, Y/N?"

Come on, you stupid little scaredy cat just tell him. Three words. Three monosyllabic words so simple a kid can say them. Just say it.

"You're still here," you blurted out, immediately wanting to swallow your tongue when his face dropped.

Wrong three words, you fucking idiot.

"Do you want me to leave?" His words came out strained, as if it physically hurt him to say them.

"No, I don't. It's just…I expect it. And if I can be honest I'm still kind of…waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

You pursed your lips, a part of you already feeling silly for the words about to come out your mouth. "Post-coital clarity?"

He let out a slow sigh, his hold tightening around you while he cupped your face with his free hand, stroking along your cheekbone with his thumb. "And what in the world is that?"

"It's this--Honestly it's silly, really--"

"It doesn't seem silly to you." He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips, pulling you closer when you melted against him at the gesture. "So it's not silly to me. Tell me what it is."

You took a deep breath, your fingers absentmindedly tracing along the lines on his abdomen while you explained. "It's this phenomena that…once you've slept with someone, the attraction goes away. Your mind's more clear, you're no longer overpowered by this attraction and you realize that the person you just had sex with isn't as appealing as they were before you got together."

It took him a few seconds before he spoke again, maneuvering you so that you were now on top of him, straddling his stomach, his hands skimming up and down your sides.

"Why is it so hard for you to accept that I love you?"

The question seemed so ridiculous to you. "Because nobody ever has. Nobody does--"

"You're wrong," he cut you off, pulling you close until your chests were pressed together. "I know it might not happen often but it's happening now. You're wrong, and I'm living proof of it. Because I'm here. I'm here and I love you. The only clarity that came to me is that I want more than anything for us to become more. For what we shared tonight be more than a one-time thing."

He wrapped his arms tighter around you, pulling you into a tender kiss that had your heart fluttering when he licked into your mouth, his tongue gliding against yours. "I'm no good with words," you said breathlessly when he broke the kiss, his chest heaving against yours. "I've never been able to say how I feel, I can't--"

"Shh it's alright, sweetheart," he breathed, holding you by the back of your neck to rest your forehead against his. "You don't need those fancy words you use in your report. It's just us here. Whatever you wish to tell me, in the plainest words--"

"I love you, too."

A/N: I've finally finished this mega chonker of a piece! And I've given 'you deserve better' Conrad his happy ending with his precious bb 🥹🥹

Next up is the final story in the Kinktober 2023 initial goal: Fingering with President Loki 😳👀 And lemme just tell y'all now…it's gonna be at least 2k words long because I haven't even gotten to the smutting yet 🥴

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

Kinktober taglist: @azula-karai-27

[peony-always]

For the main man's birthday, (and after reading so many great stories from others celebrating him!!), I thought I would give it a little go in honor of my husband

a snippet in which Bkg is working on his birthday :P (1.4k)

25. Twenty-five years of life, twenty-five Happy Birthday bro!!!! texts from Eiji since 6 a.m., and about 25 seconds left until Bakugou lost his composure and damaged something that would be a pain in the ass to apologize for and replace.

It wasn't that he minded working on his birthday, he really didn't. He had worked on his birthday for the last three years, so it wasn't that.

It wasn't that he minded all of Eiji's obnoxious texts, forcing him to acknowledge the day his hag mother had brought him into the world.

It wasn't even that his dumbass friends had suckered him into going out for dinner and drinks after his shift, because, even after all his blustering about, deep down he was pleased that he still had friends who would do things for him, go out of their way.

No, it was none of those things that had the 2nd Street flower shop in danger of having its windows blasted out and flowers burnt to a crisp.

It was you.

For the past few months, you had been terrorizing the Musutafu police force and Pro Heroes alike. A vigilante quirk user who was somehow getting to crime scenes before the police or heroes were even notified of them, leaving criminals tied up and subdued before fleeing the scene.

You were quick, none of the heroes dispatched could catch you. Bakugou had tried multiple times, and each time made him more eager to fight you again than the last. Since he had encountered you the most, he had been the one tasked with providing your description to the other heroes and police who patrolled downtown Musutafu.

He had described your white and gold hooded catsuit, utility boots, smug smile, and gold mask as you glanced back to taunt him, only

He wanted desperately to be the one to unmask you, to beat you at your little game of trying to one-up his colleagues. So, he had been keeping track of sightings of you, playing cat-and-mouse, you tempting him to come out and play just as well as you eluded him.

He had felt his lip curl up into a feral grin half an hour earlier when he had hear that you had been sighted over the police scanner in his office. Someone had seen you on 4th Street, and as soon as he heard that, Katsuki was off. 4th Street was minutes from his agency, and he cut the time in half by propelling himself through the sky, keen eyes watching for any sign of the suit he had committed to memory.

Then, he spotted you. Running down 2nd Street, keeping close to the alleyways and storefronts.

He sent himself downward in a flash, landing a couple feet behind you, the impact from his landing causing you to stumble and look back.

It was then that he caught a glimpse of your eyes, wide and sparkling in the afternoon light. They reminded him of a bunny. You looked a little afraid, and he felt his snarl grow into a grin, chasing after you. He had always taken pleasure in being a predator, hunting down his prey with ease.

The set of your shoulders changes as you regain your composure, calling over your shoulder to him," Working on your birthday, Dynamite? I'm flattered that I'm that important to you."

Bakugou nearly rolls his eyes at your taunting,"A big bad hero comes chasin' after ya and ya get scared, ya start runnin'? What happened to all that bravado you had for the police, ha?"

You said nothing, spinning on your heel to face him, nearly causing him to careen into you.

You lithely dodge out of his way, your knees bent, poised to run again as you speak, "I'm not afraid of you or any other pros. All you've done so far is let me down with your pathetic attempts to find me and have me brought in for doing a better job at protecting people than you."

Bakugou snarls at your words, lunging at you with his hand poised to strike, "You don't get to say shit about pros, we ain't the ones hidin' and creepin' around."

You laugh, dodging him again. You can tell he's starting to get frustrated that you're so hard to nab.

He's still enjoying himself though, examining your body as he sizes you up again, squaring off to face you once more. You're built very pretty. You look both strong and delicate, soft and hard. He can't help but let his gaze linger on your lips as his eyes make their way to your face. He notices that they look plush and supple as you speak again, "Why won't you people just leave me alone? I'm not doing anything wrong aside from not adhering to the policies of your Hero Commission. I don't hurt anyone, I capture villains, I cause thousands less than you do in property damage..."

The Bakugou remembers why he's there, to capture you and put an end to your vigilanteism. Feining anger beyond what he really feels, he goes for an obvious lunge before switching up at the last moment to sweep your legs.

It catches you off-guard, sending you onto your back on the cool concrete of the sidewalk. You quickly grab his ankle, pulling him down so he can't pin you, but he lands on top of you anyway.

You freeze, his face inches from yours, his breath warm on your cheek. His body is pressed right to yours and you can feel every hard plane of him. Your eyes lock for a moment, and in another life you think you could reach out and stroke his cheek, thread your hand through his hair, get lost in his garnet eyes.

Your breath hitches as you remember that you aren't in another life, you're in real life. You hitch your leg around his, flipping him onto his back. He still looks a bit dazed by your proximity, and you take your chance, hopping up as he moves to grab you again, but you're already out of his reach, turning away to take off, but not before you grin, saluting him and letting out a quick, "Happy birthday, Dynadick." and tossing down a smoke bomb, disappearing into the black cloud that emits from it.

He growls, moving in your direction, but he can't find you in the smoke, and once it clears, you're nowhere to be seen.

Frustrated and a little confused, he walks back to his agency, opting to take the extra few minutes to go over the fight in his head, trying to figure out what it was about you that had bewitched him so thoroughly when you took him down. Was it your quirk, unknown to the Hero Commission other than that you had one? Or was it your eyes, the life-filled sparkle of them as they searched his own?

It didn't matter, in the end. All that mattered was that he caught you, and brought you to justice soon.

He spends the rest of the day at the agency, turning off his police scanner and busying himself with paperwork until he gets the inevitable text from Eiji asking him to head over to the restaurant they were having dinner at.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair as he heads to the underground parking deck. He moves to open his car door, pausing and immediately going on alert when he sees the bright orange sticky note stuck to the handle of the driver's side door.

He pulls it off, spinning around to check the parking garage. When he sees no one, he turns back around and glances down at the note, which reads, 'Happy Birthday, Dynadick.'

He yanks open the door, expecting something dangerous to come flying out at him, but nothing does. Instead, as he peers into the car, he notices a smell that wouldn't emanate from his car normally, and as he glances down, he sees the source.

A single orange cupcake, complete with the stupid cartoonish cupcake toppers his publicist had bullied him into licensing to local bakeries.

You had even had the foresight to wrap it into a napkin, somehow knowing what a neat freak he was.

He gingerly set the cupcake into one of his cupholders and got in, a little more eager to encounter you again.

ahhhh I had no idea how to end this but I hope it was okay!!

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Love me or hate me, both are in my favor (Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader [HS Academic Rivals AU])

Hiii! It’s been a second cuz I’ve been so busy, so I apologize. So enjoy! Not proofread

(L/N)-Last name, (Y/N)-Your name.

Cursing, mentions of death, fake stab wound, comfort/hurt/comfort, Miguel being mean :(

Word count: 3k

Series Masterlist Series playlist

Chapter 9: What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way

—

“Did you forget the next line? It’s: Thus with a kiss I die…”

You let out a groan after a moment realizing his hesitation, getting up from your lying position on the floo as you open your eyes, causing Miguel to scoot away from you from his kneeling position over you.

“Why’d you stop?” You asked curtly as you crossed your legs, raising a brow up at him.

“I’m not gonna kiss you, (L/N).”

You had finally gotten Miguel to show up to do a practice run of the scene, the presentation was happening in the following day, and thankfully you’d both practiced it apart, but the odd tension between you both you still couldn’t desphire wasn’t helping the process go on any easier. Countless pauses and time-outs, you two have been going through the scene over and over, like a broken record that kept falling over into the same scratch devit, skipping, repeating, but never finishing.

“Does it look like I’m jumping at the idea, O’Hara?” You countered as you grabbed the pillow you had placed on his carpeted dorm floor and placed it onto your lap, taking your hair out from your hair clip before reaching to place it on his nightstand, deciding it was too unbearable to lay on any longer before continuing. “We’re not gonna make out with each other in front of the whole class. It’s just a small peck.”

“Oh like how that kiss with Spider-Man was a ‘small peck’.” Miguel was too busy doing air quotes for him to catch the pillow as you threw it at his chest. His eyes rolling at the childish act while you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment at the memory.

It’s not like you regretted it or anything, it was just annoying when he brought it up.

“Okay, whatever. We can fake it-what’s that thing they do in theater?-oh stage kiss. We can do a stage kiss.” You suggested but Miguel's facial expressions clearly show he had no idea what a stage kiss was, making you groan and roll your eyes as if it was common knowledge. “Do you know what that is?”

“No, I’m not a geek unlike you.”

“That’s ironic coming from the science nerd.”

Now it was him rolling his eyes with a scoff.

“Are you going to explain it or not?”

“Okay, okay.” You put your hands up in defense as you shift to sit on your knees, before going to explain. “A stage kiss is basically just a kiss for the stage, but we can make it look like we’re kissing without our lips actually touching.” Miguel raised a brow, a silent ask for you to explain further. “Like, you tilt your head a specific way or you put your thumb on my lips and you kiss your thumb.”

Was Miguel’s next question a risky one? Maybe. Did he want it to be an excuse to get close to you again? Maybe, even if he can’t get the sweet relief of tasting your lips again, he’ll take whatever crumbs you’ll toss his way. Even if he had to pretend he didn’t enjoy it. So with a quick clearing of the throat, he shifted a bit closer, careful to not startle you as he approached you as if you were a wounded animal.

“May I?”

His felt his heart began to pound a little bit faster as he watched confusion cover your face for a split second before you realized what he means, and he thinks for a second you’ll say no with the way you bite your bottom lip ever so subtlety in a way he doesn’t think even you notice, and the way he noted your hand fidgeting with the hem of your shirt despite not breaking eye contact, but eventually you nodded.

“Okay…”

Your voice was soft, meek, gentle, something that it never was towards Miguel. It took all of him to not rush towards you and kiss your lips for real, but he knew better. So with slow movements, silence envelopes the air around you both. It was very faint, the way the atmosphere in the room shifted as he placed his hand on your side of your face. Praying to god that he didn’t feel the way your jaw flexed as you swallowed the lump in your throat as his thumb grazed and stopped in the middle of your lips. His eyes dropped to them for a split second before they were back on you, and finally, they closed as he leaned in. Warm spreads through your body, seeping into the pit of your stomach, as your eyes naturally close as well. Despite his thumb separating you both, you can still feel the phantom presence of his lips on yours. In your head, they tasted like Spider-Man’s.

After a while, you felt him finally pull away, bringing you back down to earth as you blink up at him, if it wasn’t for the dark lightning in his dorm you would have both noticed the fleshing in his cheeks. He cleared his throat, “Like that?”

“Yeah, like that.” You nodded as you tried to play off the whole situation nonchalantly. “Let’s try to go through the whole thing, and when you die on me don’t rest all your weight on me please? You’ll crush me.” You attempted to lighten the mood with a joke as you took the forgotten pillow and placed it back to its original spot. Grateful when you heard him stifle a snort under his breath.

—

He should stop this.

He knows he should.

He’s made a habit out of it now, and habits are hard to break. You’ve even started to keep your widow unlocked for him, how could he resist himself? It’s obvious you wanted him to stop by. So, here he was, outside your window. You having just left his dorm not even a full hour ago, your hair clip and copy of Gravity’s Rainbow still sitting in his dorm where you left them, forgotten on your way out the door.

He always had this small mental battle with himself as he slipped his finger through the small crack in the window. Knowing how dangerous it was to get you involved with Spider-Man, if he wasn’t careful, it would only lead to danger. Still he couldn’t help but continue to spin his web, entrapping you in it without you none the wiser. He was given the opportunity to become closer to you in a way he couldn’t as himself, and he’d be foolish to not take advantage of it. At least, that's what he told himself to justify his actions when finger finally pulled your window up almost every night.

He didn’t see you at first, and it made his chest tighten in panic, but the feeling quickly died down, once he heard the doorknob to your front door open. He let out a sigh of relief when he realized he had gotten there before you. When you opened the door to your dorm you let out a small startled yelp when met with the familiar red and blue costume, you hand shooting up to your chest to help calm down your shot up heartbeat once you realized the intruder wasn’t a threatening one.

“Jesus… you scared me…” You mumbled as you closed and locked the door behind yourself.

“Sorry about that, I didn't know you were out.” He lied as he shot a glowing web to turn on your overhead light, you not even flinching at the moment, having grown accustomed to it, despite your many pleas to not web up your room for the sake of convenience.

“I told you to stop doing that. You know how long it takes for me to take that off? It always sticks to my hands.” You whined as you went to try and take it off, and Miguel couldn’t help but let out a laugh as it does, in fact, stick to your hands.

“Here I got it…” He murmured as he moved to takes your smaller hand in his, picking at the webbing under the neon red no longer covering your palm, once it was cleaned, he turned it over and placed a small kiss over your knuckles.

“Thanks.” You said with a small smile once you pulled your hand away. “I can’t stay up too late, I have that-“

“That project tomorrow, I know. You’ve been talking about it non-stop.” He interrupted, causing you to laugh. “It’s fine though, I shouldn’t let our little visits cut into so much of my patrol time anyways.” He admitted, a faux hurt expression fell over your features.

“If my company bores you, you can just say so-“ You were silenced by a web covering your mouth, knowing despite his face being covered underneath his mask, he was giving you a playful smirk. You gave him a glare as you attempted to rip them from your lips.

“Shush. You know, for a smart girl, I’d expect you to not say stupid shit like that.” His head tilted slightly, before he walked over and ripped the webbing from your mouth, letting out a small hiss at the sensation as you went to soothe the area with the back of your hand.

“Do me a favor.”

“Hmm?”

“Wear a coat tomorrow, we’re going to take a little trip.” Was all he said before he slipped back through your window, not even letting you respond back to the request, as you stood there in confusion, just staring at the open window.

—

“O happy dagger!” You grabbed the toy retractable knife that was in Miguel’s pocket, raising it in the air with your right hand, while he played dead in front of you. “This is thy sheath:” You were thankful that Ms.Covey had turned on the harsh stage lights, flooding out the rest of your classmates so it gave the illusion of empty seats, although they couldn’t distract you from the occasional scribble of a pen on paper from your teacher in the otherwise quiet room. You bring the toy knife down and press the fake blade against your abdominal, faking a grunt of pain as you slowly push it till it sat flesh against you, before putting it back away from you. “There rust, and let me die.” You finally finish and you succumb to your faux wound, collapsing onto Miguel's torso.

After a beat, applause spreads through the air, making you release an unknown breath that you were holding in your rest and you finally getting off of Miguel, both of finally standing up as the stage lights dimmed slightly enough to reveal your teacher.

“Good job you too, nothing but the best as always-“ Her praise was interrupted when the bell rang, signaling that class was over, causing all the students to fill out and off to elsewhere. You quickly go to grab your book bag from the wing of the stage, a big grin on your face as you weave through the crowd, feeling accomplished as you try to catch up to your rival to congratulate him.

“Hey! O’Hara!” You smiled brightly as you caught up to him, ignoring the side eye he gave, too focused on the project you both nailed. “We did so well! I was surprised that-“

“Oh my god why are you still pestering me?” He hissed, turning to glared daggers at you that made you falter. “All you do is pester me!” You took a step away from him before even registering the movement in your head properly. He looked so pissed off, it was a bit unnerving, you had done a lot worse to make him upset and he’d only ever give you back a sarcastic comment or something along the lines of friendly fire. How did doing well in a project together be the thing to set him off?

“Sorry-sorry, I just wanted to say that I’m glad we-“ You didn’t get to finish before being interrupted again.

“Can you just shut up.” You were glad that the once full courtyard was now barren, reduced to only you and Miguel. You didn’t need prying eyes on you to worsen the humidity of Miguel ripping you a new one for seemingly no reason. You weren’t sure if it was the lighting from the sun or your brain short circuiting from confused and slight fear but you swore Miguel’s brown maroon eyes looked almost as if they were growing a more pure red color.

“I’m-I’m sorry...” Your words fell on deaf ears as your face once again with Miguel’s back, watching him walk away.

He always walks away.

“What’s your problem with me? I understand we’ve never really gotten along with each other but you're acting like you hate me.” The pit in your stomach disappears once it was swallowed up with the anger that started to seep into you, taking a few steps towards him.

“Because I do hate you (Y/N).”

I’m in love with you (Y/N).

“I hate the way you’re always around.”

I love the way I know you’ll always be near.

“I hate how you always try to one up me in class.”

I love how you challenge me, I haven’t been challenged in a long time.

“I hate the way you quote your stupid poems and books you always read.”

I love the way you’ve changed my perspective on the world.

“I hate you.”

I love you.

“Your voice.”

Your voice.

“Your laugh.”

Your laugh.

“I hate everything about you.”

I love everything about you.

You couldn’t hear anything, you couldn’t let him see the way your eyes started to sting with your forming tears, so you walked away.

—

He didn’t know why he couldn’t shut himself up. Why he kept spewing false garbage from his mouth, he couldn’t handle it anymore. The lies, the confusing feelings, the late night visits. It’s all too much, he couldn’t get himself to leave you alone. He needed to push you away, as far away as he possibly could. That includes Spider-Man.

But…

He knew he wouldn’t be able too, and that’s why the second the sunset turned the sky from its usual blue to orange and yellow hues, he found himself outside of your window, pulling up your window before he felt the guilt from his words earlier swallow him whole.

“Your favorite spider is here-“ But unfortunately, the guilt ate him up anyways when his eyes immediately fell on your figure, curled up in a ball with your face stuffed into that fox plushie of yours, small whimpers leaving your slight shaking form. “Hey…Hey… what’s wrong?” He didn’t need to ask, he already knew what was wrong, and you didn’t answer, didn’t even look up as you shook your head, opting to bury it deeper into white tummy of the stuffed animal, it surely damp with your tears.

“I don’t wanna talk about it…” You croaked with a sniffle, and Miguel let out a heavy sigh as he carefully approached your bed, taking a seat at the edge where your legs were curled up, and began to rub soothing circles into your back.

“We won’t talk about it then…” Miguel was afraid if you did, mostly because he wouldn’t know how to react. Taking a beat of silence before bringing his hand up to your chin, and lifted it gently for you to face him. You retaliated with a small whine before moving to hide your face once more.

“No, I don’t want you to see me like this, my-my face is are all red and puffy, my mascara is all fucked up, and-“

“Hey,” His hand goes to your chin to turn it towards him once more, but this time you didn’t move it away, although your eyes didn’t meet his, “look at me.” After a moment you did. “You are the most beautiful…” You looked away with a giggle, his hand he was holding you with turned your head towards him again as his gloved thumb came up to wipe away a lingering tear. “beautiful…” he repeated, “amazing… most intelligent and wonderful women I've met.”

“Thank you…”

“Of course, now get up.” He said as he stood up from the bed, grabbing the fox from your arms and placing it where he was just at on the bed, chucking a bit when he noticed the confusion on your face. “What? Don’t tell me you forgot about your surprise, did you?”

“My surprise?” He nodded with a hum as you slowly sat up, and went to place on your shoes.

“Yes ma’am, put a coat on we’re gonna be swinging there.”

—

“Dontdropmedontdropmedropme-“

“I’m not gonna drop you.” He laughed.

“I’m never gonna get used to swinging!”

“Well you better try!”

“Can I open my eyes yet?”

“Not yet… gonna place you down first…”

You had no idea where he was bringing you too, the only clues you had were the noise of Nueva York that surrounded you, which wasn’t much help. You let out a sigh of relief when he placed your feet down onto a solid surface, most likely a rooftop.

“Are you dizzy?”

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, yes just let me open my eyes please.” You laughed as you reached out towards the sound of his voice and hit the air around him as a signal to hurry.

“Alright, open up.” You smiled as you did so, and once your eyes focused on the view in front of you, you let out a gasp.

“You did not…”

“I did, do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it. Thank you, thank you thank you!” You quickly pulled him into an embrace, one of his hands went to the small of your back as the other brought his mask up to his nose, before pulling you into a kiss.

In the distance, in front of the orange and yellow hues that illuminated the sky, was the Brooklyn bridge. Sprawled across the cables were three words written in red webbing.

I love you.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @oharasfilipinawife @mxltifxnd0m @loser-alert @homewreckingwreck @dumb-gemini @cowboylikeevie @thedevax @codenameredkrystalmatrix @strawberryjuice9 @maomaimao

[sweetainwen]

ᴜɴᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴsɪɢʜᴛ [WANDERER/SCARAMOUCHE]

Summary: the creator just wanted to find the reason for that system error, but she had brought with her an unwanted insight into the game itself, causing a dangerous and unexpected collapse within him.

Pairings: yandere!Scaramouche/Wanderer x fem!OC (you can think of her as Y/N)

Genre: sagau, yandere!au, isekai!au, futuristic!au, sci-fi!au.

Warnings: jealous!wanderer, fluff, angst, d^aths (no blood tho), wanderer losing his mind, noncon kissing.

SUMERU ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS

I STARTED WRITING THIS BEFORE THE FONTAINE RELEASE, SO IT'S NOT PRESENT

THE WANDERER'S NAME IS THE ONE I CHOOSE (IT MEANS "LIGHT", "RADIANCE")

Word count: 12k+

A hand gently, lightly brushing his hair. The humming of a sweet, soothing tune tickling his ears. A smile, a face, a calm voice and muffled words.

His eyes struggled to focus.

Everything was blurry, but he could catch those details of the one who was tenderly lulling him.

She was moving her lips, she was talking. but he did not understand. He was still groggy. Nevertheless, he sensed it.

It was home.

“Here, your food.”

He snapped his eyes open, staring at the bowl in front of him before looking up at the arm holding the item and finally at the person sitting to his left on a medium tree trunk.

The Wanderer saw her give him a surprised look, blinking.

“Oh, sorry, did you fall asleep?”

He let out a grunt, almost snatching the bowl out of her hand and spilling out its contents, causing her to gasp slightly.

“My, how grumpy,” she snickered amusedly. “It seems like I'm putting you through torture. You can't call me a bad cook, big hat guy.”

He took the spoon between his fingers, sighing annoyed at the way he had been called for the thousandth time, “Quit with that name.”

“I would if I had a real name to call you by,” she shrugged with a smirk on her face, the spoon playing with the food in the bowl. “But since you won't tell me, I had to give you one. It suits you, doesn't it?”

Her eyes were fixed on his hat at that question, and the Wanderer preferred to ignore it, causing her to put on a feigned pout.

She took a bite of her lunch, "Is this how you treat your travel companion?"

“You are not.”

“But we are traveling together to Sumeru!”

“You have decided to join. Without my consent,” he reminded her, his gaze now on her.

“You didn't refuse though.”

This time her sullen face was genuine.

He stared at her without arguing back, the impulse to leave her there on the spot taking over. However it dissipated shortly after the lively gleam in her eyes struck him.

Again.

“Stop talking and eat up. We need to get back on the road.”

He brought his gaze back to the food, but he could feel the young woman's victorious smile.

She was truly a whirlwind in perpetual motion. She got into constant trouble between hilichurls, treasure hoarders, and even fatui.

It was better to call her a loose cannon.

That was just how he had met her several days before, though the hilarious part was that the hoarders were running away from her.

And he even ended up in the middle of their battle when those bandits had tried to use him as a shield.

It had been a scene comical enough to almost make him sneer.

And that was when she proclaimed herself as his travel companion, since they had to go the same way.

“Have you gone freaking nuts?” he blurted out with crossed arms.

She blinked before putting on a huge smile, “Why not?”

“I could kill you too.”

“You don't seem like a bad guy at all, hat guy," she shook her head, stretching her hand toward him and eyes twinkling like stars. “I'm Clara. No last name, just Clara. It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

And he had let her come with him.

He felt a kind of force drawing him toward the young woman. He could not respond in any other way to her gestures and words than with indulgence.

And it irked him that it was no problem for him.

Those eyes on him now accentuated the annoyance he had been feeling for the past few days.

As a result, he put into action what he thought whenever he was stared at intensely by her before continuing on his journey.

A movement of his hand was enough to create a vortex that surrounded the young woman and carried her away from him.

The gasp of surprise and words of displeasure never failed to be heard.

But she always managed to return and take him wherever she wanted to go.

Such as booking a room at an inn for the night.

“Using your element to get rid of me is completely pointless. You are perfectly aware that I'd be back on my feet in no time,” Clara sneered at him, sitting on the windowsill with one leg toward her chest as he lay on the bed far from the open window.

“And you acknowledge the fact that I could harm you with that.”

She giggled in response, and he saw that particular glint in her eyes again that if he could lose his breath, it would have happened by now. The smile that followed it made the picture even more vivid.

“You would have already done what you had to do, Hikaru.”

He frowned, astonishment at hearing that name, “What?”

“Oh. Calling you big hat guy all the time doesn't seem appropriate, and since you won't tell me your name, I decided to give you a real one. Why?” She brought her arm on her knee before resting her chin on it. “You don't like it?”

“Why that name?”

This time, the smile she showed him was a sweet one, devoid of any malice.

“Because you remind me of how a person can emanate their own light, and head towards the end,” she explained in a soft voice, her face now turned up to the night sky. “Like a bright star high in the sky.”

Silence filled the room.

The Wanderer did not know what to answer, and he did not want to answer. The name said so lightly, but with meaning, was the same one the traveler had given him.

It was so strange.

“Although... these stars and this sky seem to have something wrong with them.”

The Wanderer sat on the edge of the bed, confused by the sudden change of subject, “Wrong how?”

He watched carefully as her expression became thoughtful, almost serious, absorbed in finding an explanation.

“It's as if ... you want to go one way, but you are pushed in another. Determined to follow that set thought of yours, but it gets diverted, and you don't know whether to continue or not. A false sense of control. A purpose-built hope.”

She went back to look at him. And the feeling he got from it was totally different.

She seemed to be observing him, seeking something deep within him. Like an astrologist reading your future.

“Well, it's probably just my mindless reasoning," she shrugged, her facial features softening. “I'm going to go to sleep now. Good night, Hikaru.”

And as she got up and headed for her bed, that feeling vanished along with her no longer being in his line of sight.

He lay back down again, confused for the umpteenth time by their interactions. There was definitely a double meaning in what she had said, and he even began to believe that it had some connection to the reason for her journey to Sumeru.

And at that point, after days and nights together, he was wondering: what was she looking for?

Everything was dark, he could see nothing. He could only hear murmurs and noises.

But then there was a gentle touch, his hair being tousled by her hand.

All went quiet, and a faint, sweet chuckle echoed in that darkness before making way for a soft, muffled voice.

He felt it. Deafening and overpowering. That strange feeling.

“You're such a good boy.”

Like it was home.

He snapped his eyes open, and the first thing he saw was Clara’s surprised and slightly worried face.

“Is everything all right?”

Disoriented, he tried to grasp the situation. One of her hands was at the side of his head, while the other was in his. He couldn’t blink.

And Clara, surely noticing his inquisitive look, was quick to explain.

“I saw you stirring in your sleep. I thought you were having a nightmare so I tried to wake you up, but you grabbed my hand,” she showed him their intertwined hands. “Then I tried to soothe you with caresses and reassuring words. And it worked.”

She gave him a smile, but he said nothing. He only stared at her.

Clara tilted her head slightly to the side at that reaction, not understanding what else he wanted to know. Or he probably didn't believe what she had told him.

She did not give it much thought.

When Clara felt his grip loosen, she gently freed her hand from his, standing up.

“I brought your breakfast. It’s on the bedside table. Eat with no rush, I’m going downstairs.”

And she walked on, closing the door behind her.

The Wanderer sat at the edge of the bed and sighed deeply, his eyes going to the tray with his breakfast mentioned by Clara.

He had been experiencing those moments for days now. It was beyond annoying.

Dreams that showed scenarios that then affected him emotionally and psychologically when he woke up. Not just any scenes, but of himself in situations that seemed familiar despite the fact that he had never actually experienced them.

Memories.

It was also strange and impossible. Because he was a puppet. He could not sleep, consequently neither could he dream. However, he was doing both, and he was unaware of how he was doing it.

What was he to expect now? That he would no longer have to pretend that he had to eat?

Of one thing he was sure though. It had all started after the arrival of the one he was now watching chatting and giggling with an inn employee outside the inn after leaving the room.

He sensed it. That greater force pushing him back toward her.

Uncontrollable and domineering.

And another emotion mixed with it. An emotion so strong that he wanted to rip off the head of that young man standing too much close to her.

Instead, he moved closer, catching their attention, and with a movement of his fingers, he made a vortex appear around the young woman that dragged her away from the guy, leaving both of them stunned and confused.

And after throwing a glance that made the unfortunate man shudder, he went behind the whirlwind with Clara rolling her eyes.

He just sneered, feeling a little better. Clara huffed after being released far from the inn, adjusting her disheveled clothes and walking toward the direction they had come from.

Knowing her intentions, he stepped in front of her and before she could even open her mouth to argue, he revealed the object of interest and threw it at her, watching as she tried hard not to drop it.

“Your bag,” he informed her, putting a hand on his hip.

She just shot him a glare, her eyes almost twitching.

“What am I surprised about? Your social skills certainly can't improve in a snap of the fingers,” she muttered displeased, fixing her shoulder bag over one shoulder and checking the contents for possible breakage. “Be more careful when holding other people’s things! And stop frightening people for no reason at all! Poor guy was praying that he wouldn't end up in pieces.”

He did not speak, resuming his walk as if he had heard nothing.

“Ignoring my words, are you?” she gave up, going after him.

“Just a little while and we will arrive at our destination,” was what he communicated instead.

He suddenly felt himself grabbed by the arm, almost causing him to lose his balance, and caught her radiant face a few inches away from his.

He could tell he had had a heart attack at this.

“Really?! Finally! Then we must hurry, I can’t wait to get there!”

He frowned, trying to break free from her grasp, but was taken aback by her sudden jerk forward before she started running and dragging him with her.

She was too enthusiastic for his liking, a child in an adult's body. Hopping here and there like a rabbit with a goofy smile and sparkling eyes through the streets of Sumeru.

He felt like a nanny and couldn't say he was pleased about it.

“Sumeru is just as it was portrayed to me. I love it!”

“Your elation over a city is quite childlike. I could swear I'm dealing with a child.”

She hopped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks and puffing out her cheeks, “And you’re too edgy and grumpy for my liking. Change your mood when you’re with me. I won’t tolerate a gloomy atmosphere.”

“You’re such a-“

“Cute, lovable, little person? I am, thanks for noticing that, Hikaru.”

She stuck out her tongue at him before a smile spread across her face, and he grimaced at what he called her antics. Realizing the presence of the god of wisdom coming toward them with her lips upward instead made him roll his eyes.

“I take great pleasure in seeing that you have finally found yourself a friend.”

That sweet, little voice made Clara turn around, and was taken aback as soon as she saw who was before her.

The Wanderer placed one hand on his hip, shaking his head at her words, “You shouldn’t.”

Nahida slightly giggled, shifting her focus on the young woman by his side, conscious of how she struggled to conceal her astonishment and nervousness in her presence.

“I’m- I’m honored to make your acquaintance, Dendro Archon! I’m… I’m Clara!”

“Very delighted to meet you, Clara.” She almost cooed at her reaction. “I’m hoping he’s not causing you any distress.”

She gesticulated, eyes wide open, “Oh! Of course, he isn’t! Our traveling proceeded smoothly! Not one person was the victim of his aggressive look or word!”

The Wanderer gave her a look and Clara pressed her lips together after the gaffe she had made.

The little Archon cocked her head to the side, entertained by their interaction. But the most interesting behavior was that of the former balladeer, somehow influenced by the young woman to be more calm and condescending.

“You seem to get along pretty well.”

The duo looked at her, baffled. Before they could comment, the clatter of rapidly approaching wheels against the ground alerted the young man.

His hand was quick to rest on her hip, bringing her closer to himself and thus preventing her from being run over by the wooden cart.

The man carrying it apologized several times under Hikaru’s grim gaze, and Clara and Nahida’s surprised eyes before going on his way.

Clara thanked him and, moving slightly away from him, turned to Nahida with a curious look, “There is a lot of movement around. Is there any celebration going on?”

“A festival. Would you like to partecipate?”

Her eyes sparkled, “Can I really?”

“There is no prohibition on this,” Nahida giggled. “Everyone is welcome. With Hikaru's company, it will be easier to integrate.”

“Excuse me?” his eyebrow shot up.

“She’s not familiar with Sumeru. Consequently, someone who is should be her guide.”

It wasn't the beaming face and the implied order of the Dendro Archon, it was Clara's eyes filled with expectation and eagerness to witness a common joy that dragged him through the stalls ― one of which she had almost ended up being scammed and if it hadn't been for her stopping him, he would have probably literally blown up every one of his pieces for sale and the seller himself ― and ultimately among the people moving to the beat of the music.

But he had stood on the sidelines, leaning against a tree and watching as she laughed and got involved with the locals. On her head the hat she had snatched from him.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.

Her face that showed eyes like sparkling gems filled with life, red cheeks, and lips fully spread in a joyful smile.

She was some sort of flower in the midst of the desert. You found it strange that it was there and at the same time you thought it was wonderful to see it there.

It led you to get closer and stand there admiring it. To cup your hands at its sides and hide it from any intruder.

A sight that you wanted only yours to witness.

And the way he was thinking irked him.

His ears sensed a shift in the air, and Hikaru was able to quickly catch the hat Clara had thrown at him with one hand.

“Guess you’re not fond of festivals. Or should I say people in general?” she remarked, moving to his side and placing her elbow on his shoulder. “Oh, look! I can touch your shoulder even like this!” she added in mock surprise.

He didn't speak, but Clara saw him raise his arm slightly and form a small swirl of air from his hand. She stepped back just far enough not to be blown away with her hands in surrender ― although she didn't think he would really do that.

She tried not to laugh, but it was impossible.  

And it was in that instant that Hikaru saw all around her become blurred and overlaid by an environment all too familiar to him. Her clothes replaced by others and her laughter accentuated.

It echoed in his ears. Overbearing, piercing.

It mixed with the muffled music and chatter in the background of the festival.

A desperate cry broke in, words overlapping each other. Distorted and almost inaudible.

His head began to ache, his eyes squinted, and an annoying ringing thrummed in his ears.

And it became more and more unbearable.

He wanted it to stop. It fucking hurt.

“Please! Please, don’t leave me!”

“Are you all right?”

The suffering vanished as soon as her hands touched his cheeks, bringing him back to the present.

“It's better if you reach a quieter place. Or maybe go straight to bed. It's pretty late, I'd say.”

He didn’t utter a word, completely disoriented by this event. And with no hesitation, he agreed with her suggestion, leaving that chaotic place under Clara’s attentive eyes.

She crossed her arms pensively.

“I assume that your research is not bearing fruit, given the way the situation is somewhat out of control.”

Clara looked at the Dendro Archon beside her, blinking away the fear from her eyes and with a hand on her chest the near heart attack she had from her sudden arrival.

“Don’t ever do that again if you do not wish for my death!” She exhaled, “I cannot ask such questions without having at least a phase of knowledge and trust between us. It will just take a little longer because of his wariness. Nothing is out of control. What gave you this impression?”

Nahida didn’t look away from the crowd and Clara followed suit, “Is this the first time he has shown himself like that?”

Realizing that she was referring to how Hikaru had grabbed his head with one hand and his face had distorted in pain, Clara cocked her head to the side, not sure how to respond.

“I think it is. Although he had a pretty awful nightmare last night. He wouldn't stop squirming and at one point wouldn't even let go of my hand. The situation is indeed quite strange.” She shook her head, crossing her arms again, “He should not experience this kind of thing; he is a puppet. Still, seeing him trying to hide it is very amusing.”

She smiled, amused by the memory of him eating and sleeping like a normal human being.

Nahida hummed thoughtfully, “It may be a consequence of your closeness.”

Her gaze ended on her again, and Nahida did the same.

“You two share something deep,” she replied at her silent question. Something that both unites and changes you.”

“Like… a connection? Are you trying to say that because of this connection that we have,” she pointed at herself in a surprised manner. “I am instigating a change in him? He forgets everything if I get out of the game and then remember again if I go back in?”

“A deep connection. The more you feel, the more intriguing and dear is something or someone to you,” she clarified her hypothesis. “You must remember your effect on the people of this world. Your presence can be sensed by every single individual here. You are the creator. A powerful figure, more than us Archons. We are not fully aware of the influence of each of your actions. And I forewarned you of my inability to help you in such dangerous cases. What I see is total blackness; you are not part of this world. That’s why you have to be careful not to ruin the balance of Teyvat more than Dottore and Wanderer have discovered. Do it for the sake of all of us.”

Clara let out a sigh, and nodded.

Her voice was sweet and gentle, but the weight of the words spoken was not light.

The things that were taking form in this game were not supposed to occur. Having real interactions with people here was not an expected possibility, because it was a game.

A game that she herself had given shape to and was having huge success.

She was living in an era where technology was overdeveloped, it could very well be compared to a sci-fi movie. Time travel had been discovered, even flowing into parallel universes. Computers were no longer cumbersome but a small device that showed you in hologram what you wanted, like the keyboard and the mouse itself.

Being a video game producer, she had in mind a game that would bring back the old days, a gacha style of gaming that had gone out of fashion long centuries before, leaving only complete games to continue through time.

Thus, she had shared with her co-founders this idea of hers, which was accepted with some misgivings.

She did not have many expectations either, nevertheless people had liked it, taking her by surprise. Probably because this generation had never seen any, except in documentaries or such, and wanted to experience what it was like to live in an earlier era.

Some time after the game was released, she had thought of creating a more realistic alternative of it using VR headsets to engage even those who had felt no interest.

However, something had gone wrong, because she had experienced firsthand one of the scenes she had intended to include in the game that was still far from being added: the Tatarasuna Mistery. In which a mysterious disease had infected, killed many locals and scarred Hikaru to the core.

She hadn’t been an exception.

The crying, suffering, screams, desperation.

It had been too much to watch and had nearly given her a panic attack.

And she had done the only thing she believed was right: use her VR headset to get out of there. When she did, she was wearing the clothes of that world and had some small wounds on her feet from running on the ground barefoot in terror.

It was then that she realized she had created a parallel universe of that game. The game codes had been mixed up and incorporated by the three-dimensional-capable machine she had used as a technical test, bringing to life the scenarios that were still being designed.

This discovery was too dangerous to share; in fact, they decided never to talk about it again. The fright and concern her co-founders had felt after seeing her in that state had been enough to agree to keep quiet about the matter.

Unfortunately, a problem occurred when an event came out further on, in which Scaramouche, the sixth fatui harbinger, made his first appearance.

Some of the scenes were not what they were supposed to be. They had changed. Scaramouche should not have said that the sky was fake, a hoax. But they had let it go; it gave a sense of mystery and decided to go with the flow.

After that, Il Dottore said the same words. It was not a simple concidence. Her game had a reality on its own and was writing its own story. Even their employees were beginning to detect strange things.

She wanted to solve the issue, but she did not know whether destroying that universe would bring consequences in the game and be discovered by the S.T.C.C.O., the Spatio-Temporal Continuum Control Organization.

Wandering between worlds must be authorized by them to prevent ill-intentioned people from changing parts of history for selfish purposes, and if they did not show permission they could shut the company down.

Risking a life of progress was out of the question, consequently the only option was to look for a foothold in that same world and figure out how to fix it against the disagreement of her co-founder friends.

The only way she believed possible was to ask for help from the one who had wisdom and knowledge on her side, The Dendro Archon Lesser Lord Kusanali.

She smiled. Kind, welcoming. And a small movement of her head in a reverent greeting.

“Welcome, outsider.”

She was petrified of Nahida’s awareness of her. It showed her skill as the ruler of a region, but it was all the same frightening how her identity could be so easily discovered.

She found out later that not everyone could do that, only the archons, so she had breathed a sigh of relief, hoping, however, that she would not one day end up buried alive for all the pain they had felt because of her.

Her explanation of the events, where she came from and who she was, had left Nahida speechless. She had understood she was a foreigner, but not the significance of her presence there.

Everything about the young woman had some kind of wall blocking any outside access, and the reason she could not was precisely her provenance.

The Dendro Archon had then taken her to Hikaru while he was still Scaramouche, and the sight of him lying unconscious after the battle with the traveler had made quite an impression on her.

Everything here was real; you could talk to them, joke with them, touch them.

Remorse had made its way into her, and unconsciously she had approached and reassured him of his rebirth.

He was now Hikaru, the Wanderer.

She still had to find out what made him think everything was fake before releasing another region and archon quests, though it was proving quite difficult to do so.

She just had to try several times in different ways until he gave in.

That was why she had asked Nahida to send him on a trip and have them meet in the least forced way.

It would have taken her longer, but since in this universe time seemed to pass as it did in his game and unlike his world, she didn't mind.

The same could not be said of her indecision about whether or not to knock on the door of the room where Hikaru had decided to rest.

She could feel tension in the air. It was strange. And… intimidating.

Especially after talking to Nahida.

“Are you coming in or not? Don’t have any hands to open the door?”

She almost let out a scream at this sudden voice, a hand on her chest.

The way both of them made her almost die of a heart attack from a fright was really impressive.

Opening the door slightly, she let only her head pop out, almost shy, "I just wanted to know if you're feeling better."

“What do you think?” He articulated sharply, not even glancing at her.

“Well…” She entered the room, walking towards the bed where he was sitting and standing a short distance from him, “Is it a headache? Do you want me to fetch some medicine?”

“It’s not necessary. It will go away on its own.”

“Oh, good.”

Silence built between them.

Perhaps it had not been a good idea to visit him now, he was definitely not in the mood for small talk or anything else ― as he always was ― but she could not leave him alone.

“What’s your purpose here?”

After the initial moment of stupor, with a blink of her eyes, she could only say, “What?”

He looked at her, and almost took a step back because of how dull his eyes were.

“Sumeru probably has something to do with your traveling. What is it that you’re looking for?”

That was totally unexpected.

She thought she would have to work her way up to simply have a reply from him without creating suspicions. Even though it didn’t look like there wasn’t any from his intense gaze.

“Answers.”

He raised an eyebrow, a slight hint of amusement in his hollow eyes at her short response, “Answers. To what? The bright star high in the sky and the feeling of being controlled?”

He was definitely mocking her and the metaphor she used to express her opinion.

“Precisely that one.” She tilted her head to the side, “What do you think about it?”

“Everyone is controlled by someone one way or another. Willingly or unwillingly.”

“That makes sense. But how are you aware of that control? What signs do you see to come to that conclusion?”

“I don't know. Your instincts?”

She opened her mouth to retort, but closed it again, sighing slightly.

It was too good to be true. It was Hikaru they were talking about. The personality could not change.

She had a pang in her heart. She had given him that personality, like every character in the game. She had caused trauma and tragic experiences.

And that struck even deeper.

Everything in the palm of her hand, but as soon as something was out of control she wanted to fix it right away.

It was also a logical consequence of her work environment; she could leave nothing to chance.

The guilt still consumed her from the inside.

She realized only now how they had remained silent and with their eyes on each other.

He seemed to want to peer deep into her. To look for behavioral changes, for a weakness, to give certainty to doubts.

Or perhaps she was influenced by her own guilt.

It was suffocating.

Her hand moved, slowly, giving the puppet the choice to shrug it off, but he did not. It rested on his head and began to gently caress it.

“I’m sorry.”

It was a faint whisper, but a strange glint flashed through his eyes at it.

“For what?”

“I don’t know, just… I’m sorry.”

It had been spontaneous. She wanted to tell him, even though he did not understand the act.

And again, the same gaze as a few moments ago was on her. This time it was less oppressive and more… soft.

He reached for the arm of her hand still on his head and put it down, before pulling her close to him and resting his head on her stomach. His arms wrapping around her waist.

The word astonishment did not fully describe how she felt about this gesture.

It was completely out of character. Nonetheless, she had to remind herself that he was no longer a mere character in a game and that anyone who got an aloof, arrogant and conceited attitude could fall apart.

As a result, she encircled his head with her arms, attempting to convey comfort and reassurance.

She felt his grip on her waist tighten slightly, but was completely oblivious to the effect her words had on him… and the sudden change in his eyes hidden from her sight.

Thus, when he was standing at her heels the following days, it had her somewhat confused.

Scratch that. It was really confusing how calm and kind he had become to her.

It was likely due to that moment they shared together a few nights before, but the shift was…

Well, at least he had not completely changed; that would have been unsettling.

But she did not expect that he would even lie beside her on the grass, on a small slanted ledge of a hill, to watch the sunset together.

A bird flew in front of her and, following it with her eyes, she saw how it landed on Hikaru's head.

He sighed but did nothing to get it off.

It wasn't the first time this had happened; even if he tried to make it leave, he wouldn't succeed like he did with the others, and that made her laugh.

“They love you, huh?”

He didn't look at her, “Shut up.”

 “Never.”

He raised his hand, ready to make her fly faster than a bird, but she surrendered by shaking hers.

“Oh, my! You should calm your horses! There's beautiful nature here contributing to a breathtaking view and you want to sweep it away? That's so cruel!”

“I eliminate possible contamination.”

She blinked, “Wait. Me?”

With his eyes now on her, he cocked an eyebrow matter-of-factly, “Who else? The bird? Is your brain a decoration by any chance?”

She snorted, sitting down on the grass, “Then you should avoid associating with a person who has her brain as a decoration. That way you can avoid becoming dumb yourself.”

She was about to get up, but Hikaru's hand putting her back down blocked her from doing so.

And without saying anything, she smiled, bringing her arms under her head again and closing her eyes. A slight smile took up the young man's lips; she would not find out though, for it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

And after he did not know how long, heavy breathing of a sleeping person could be heard instead, and when he looked to his left, Clara was completely in dreamland.

Hikaru let out a small snort of disbelief at the scene.

The sound of stepping on grass behind him caught his attention.

“You like her company now, don't you?”

He sat up, watching the bird finally fly away, “She is bearable.”

Nahida giggled, “So bearable to follow her around, right?”

He reimaned silent as he got up and brushed off his clothes from the dirt, but didn't miss to give her a side-eye.

The little Dendro Archon observed as a small wind began to rise with a movement of his hand, lifting Clara into the air and carrying her directly into his arms; one below the crook of her knees and the other wrapping around her back. Her head drooping before resting on his chest.

With a nod toward her as a sign of goodbye, he jumped up into the air and flew away, leaving her alone.

Along with her worries.

She sighed slightly, “Seriously, I hope nothing happens.”

It could not be said that something was not wrong, as doubts had crept into Hikaru's mind anyway.

Such an answer as Clara's would have pleased no one; it was too vague.

That was why he had changed his attitude a bit, to get more informations.

Laying her on her bed, he took the bag off her shoulder without waking her and sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze drawn as always to her face.

He had a gut feeling of her being involved in those chaotic and confusing fragments of situations he was recalling, although there was a certain confidence ― which by now had wavered ― that he had never experienced them.

Getting closer was the best method to piece together those called fragments, but the more he did, the harder it was to detach and stay focused.

She was the one distracting him.

A few strands of her hair had fallen across her face, and his hand reached out to move them aside. After that he heaved a sigh, realizing that he had been staring at her for he did not know how long before he recovered from that strange state of daze.

He was definitely losing his mind.

He stood up and walked over to the chair placed by the door to put Clara's bag, which he still had in his hand, on it.

Before he could open the door a sudden noise stopped him. It had echoed in his mind, like a jingle.

Familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

Another forgotten memory.

Looking behind him, he spotted the bag upturned on the ground with something out of it. It almost seemed to shimmer under the moonlight coming in through the open window.

And as soon as he took the fallen object in his hands his brows furrowed.

It was big, almost as big as half his head, and black. There was some kind of rope tied to the ends of it and eyes in the center of that small bizarre thing.

He recalled Clara’s exaggerated care for her bag, figuring now that it was most likely for this item and its possible fragility.

The more he stared at it, the more there was something tickling his mind.

And it turned into a deafening ringing that caused him to blink several times before he heard a muffled voice and saw blurred images of that same object and a young woman showing how to use it.

“Bring this to the back of your head, then this to the front.”

Like a puppet, he led that rope behind his head and the large part in front of his eyes. It fit like a glove.

“And press the button on the left side.”

He skimmed lightly for a prominent spot until he found it.

Through that device, a spiral of colors appeared before his eyes as the ground beneath his feet seemed to disappear into thin air before he felt it again.

Now he could only see white, and he quickly took that thing off, finding himself in a completely white and empy small room. A sliding metal door opened ahead of him and he hesitantly stepped out.

What he saw left him totally shocked.

There were pictures and drawings of a lot of people posted on the walls, but the ones he recognized immediately were Lesser Lord Kusanali, the Raiden Shogun, the traveler, their fellow flying being.

And himself. In all his forms.

To his left was a chair that had small wheels instead of feet and a kind of desk with another strange invention on it; there were almost transparent windows in which one showed a picture of flowers and writing in a small square while the other showed letters and symbols.

They were not part of the alphabet of the Teyvat language, so he could not tell which letters they were.

Next to them was yet another one with an almost mouse-like shape.

Attracted, he tried to press the arrow symbol pointing to the left located in the middle of that rectangular window, and a female voice suddenly boomed in the room.

She had used a welcoming tone, however, he did not understand what she had said except for a few words.

Xu Shi Han.

He was sure it was a name.

It was then that his gaze landed on a frame. A picture frame where Clara was smiling together with other people.

What was a picture of her doing here? Was he going insane?

Where the heck was he?

Raising his head, he looked out of that large window that gave a view of huge, long, light-filled buildings and the dark sky.

This made him come to a realization.

He was in another world.

He looked at the picture frame again.

Clara’s world.

She had gotten to Teyvat with that same machine that had taken him here.

He clutches on it still in his hand, overwhelmed by that discovery.

Then who was Xu Shi Han? A friend of hers? A workmate? Both?

Or was this all a hallucination?

Sudden sequences occupied his mind, almost causing him to lose his balance and grunt from the incessant pounding in his head.

He cast a glance at the device in his hand and decided to go back and ask the young woman for an explanation.

It was better to be direct this time, she might even have a solution for those headaches and disconnected memories.

It was beginning to irritate him.

However, as soon as he entered that white room again, put the object on and pressed the button, he had to grit his teeth and hold his head.

It felt like it was being hammered. Repeatedly and relentlessly.

A searing burning melting his brain until it reached his legs, which gave way under the weight of the pain.

There were voices.

It was unbearable!

Voices. Images.

He wanted it to stop!

Giggles. Cries. Screams.

Stop! Enough! No!

Please!

He inhaled deeply and his eyes were drawn to someone standing in front of him with their back to him.

Trees, plants and bushes began to dip into scenery.

Tilting his head to the side, curiosity crept in at the sight of that person dressed in clothes he had never seen before.

She had also removed something black and large from her head and was looking around. He could only see half of her face but wonder and excitement were visible on it despite standing slightly away from him.

Adjusting the basket full of harvested fruit on his hip, he moved a foot forward but found a small tree branch under it, alerting the young woman who spun around at the noise.

It was like being struck by a lightining. She was really beautiful.

“Oh, forgive me! I didn’t mean to frighten you!” he exclaimed in a soft voice, shaking his head. Confusion was visible in her features, and his fingers began to play with part of the rim of the basket, feeling shy, “Are you lost, by any chance?”

She let out a sigh, “I… think so. Am I on a island?”

Even her voice was melodious.

“You are. Kannazuka, more specifically in Tatarasuna.”

He saw her eyes widen and look at him intently, almost as if she wanted to see through him.

“What’s your name?”

“Oh! I’m Kabukimono, pleased to meet you!” he smiled, enthusiastic about making new acquaintances. “And you are?”

She seemed to have relaxed a little, smiling back at him, “Shi Han. The pleasure is all mine, Kabukimono.”

Technically it was not a lie, yet she was puzzled by the situation because it was not supposed to start that way.

Had she gotten the main settings wrong? A reversed scenario loading? She recalled checking several times before putting the machine into operation.

Glancing one more time at the trees, the bushes, with the chirping of the birds around and the sound of their shoes against the ground, the feeling of experiencing such a realistic sensory stimulus never ceased to charm her.

Her gaze fell on the puppet leading the way to the village after telling her that she could stay with them as long as she wanted. The shy but lively way he interacted with her turned the corner of her lips upward.

“We’re here!” he informed her, quickening his pace.

Chatter and laughter reached her ears, and she stepped out of the way in time to avoid being bumped by two children chasing each other.

She followed Kabukimono with her eyes as he walked over to this familiar young man with a red lock of hair to show him the basket of fruits, being repaid with a smile and probably words of praise.

After that, his attention switched to her, thus bringing the other to look at her as well, and she decided to approach for introductions. She then understood why he looked familiar; he was Niwa Hisahide, the one she would blame for the island tragedy in the game.

They appeared like real people. Having them face her really did have a strange effect.

She certainly could not say that they were fictitious characters and was trying out the game in virtual reality to attract more players, so she had opted for a simpler and quite believable explanation: she was traveling but had gotten lost and her possessions had been stolen.

She had also immediately found a bag to put her VR headset in to avoid curious questions.

Kabukimono had already thrown a quizzical look at it, which was not supposed to happen, since it was not meant to be exposed to the eyes of the characters.

Even if there were inventions here, explaining the use of a VR headset could have involved complications in the game which she was not inclined to have.

Everything had to go smoothly, and her intent had been achieved.

She wore the local clothes, got along well with the villagers, and helped with whatever errands were available.

Still, Kabukimono's reluctant behavior around her had not escaped her notice.

Conversations were brief ― almost nonexistent ― and he would run off, yet he had been so friendly during the first meeting.

These interactions were odd; she did not remember including them as options. Actually, nothing was as she recollected setting them up.

As he was now with the elderly women who spoke to him as he smiled and listened eagerly.

“Don't worry. He had these reactions with us at first too,” Niwa's voice caught her attention as the young man walked up beside her with a hand on his hip. "He just needs some time, you'll see how he won't pull away again."

"But it's been days," she sighed. "And I'm not doing who knows what action to deserve this attitude again. I'm approaching in a gentle way."

He hummed thoughfully, “You are right about that. But... it may be that you are different.”

“Different?”

He smiled, “Sometimes we have different impressions of some people. Honestly speaking, yours leaves its mark, Shi Han. You release positive energy that relaxes and makes one feel at home. Apparently, your energy has a powerful effect on him and that makes him shy and clumsy.” Niwa chuckled at the dumbfounded face she had while he was talking, and shoved the sheath with the sword inside into her hands. “Now take this and hand it to him. He lost his previous sword and had asked me to forge another.”

Awakening from her initial astonishment, she tried to speak but he was already on his way.

So she huffed out a laugh and the only thing she said to him was a "thank you!" to which he responded with a shake of his hand.

She hadn't really noticed that he had a sword in his other hand, caught up as she was in the Kabukimono dilemma.

Niwa's confession had left her speechless. So much for the fictional character!

If they had told her that she would hear such a thing from a nonexistent person, she would have laughed in their faces.

Glancing at Kabukimono, she caught him staring at her before returning his eyes to the women who were walking away after the talk ended. She almost chuckled as she walked toward him to fulfill her errand.

“Hi. Here, from Niwa,” she spoke kindly, showing him the weapon he then took from her hands. 

“Thank you,” it was almost a whisper.

“I heard you practice sword dance. It must be difficult.”

“Not very.”

“You put in a lot of effort, though”, she smiled. “This is not to be underestimated. Although I have never seen you dance, I know enough about this.”

He had not responded, he just looked at her. She seriously believed that she was hated at this point and that Niwa's words were just to reassure her.

"Would you like to... watch me?"

That caught her off guard, but she widened her smile, "I would love to!"

She hadn't really expected that! It was a really huge leap of progress!

It certainly had not been easy to ask her to see him dance, but she was really happy about it. And now that she was witnessing that dance, to say that he was talented was an understatement!

The smooth and accurate movements, the relaxed facial features, and the passion-filled eyes with which he performed the poses was nothing short of mesmerizing.

As a backdrop, the trees, the river and the light wind that had risen made it almost magical.

She couldn’t stop looking at him.

He was so immersed in it that he seemed to have forgotten her presence after ending his dance, so she applauded him, catching his attention.

"That was... magnificent. I don't know what else to say.”

His eyes drifted to the sword, playing with its hilt, “I’m honored to be complimented.”

Shi Han was completely taken hostage by the tenderness he had awakened in her, and without thinking about it she had mussed his long hair in an affectionate gesture.

Kabukimono had only blinked in surprise.

"Oh, forgive me!" she pulled away, raising her hands in surrender. "You were so sweet that I moved unintentionally. Please, don’t hate me!”

“Hate you? I would never!” he quickly shook his head, almost offended by that.

“Oh. I thought… you hated me.”

“Never! I’m just…” now he looked anywhere but at her, what was probably embarrassment invading him. “You are so beautiful and kind…”

She would have had an explosion of diabetes if he had not stopped!

How in the heck was he so, so sweet? He was a precious cinnamon roll!

“So it is not a disturbance if I request to see your dance again?”

“Absolutely not.”

“That’s a relief then. And… thank you for your compliments.”

The response she received was sparkling eyes and a toothy smile.

And the following days Kabukimono had left all shyness behind and kept staying close to her like a child trailing after his mother.

He would smile constantly, seek advice on even the smallest things, ask to pick fruits or just go for a walk together.

A total different character.

You could not look at him and not think of protecting him from any danger.

To think that he would change his personality after that tragic event that he would soon have to endure was really a shame, yet the story had to have footholds to continue.

Every action and reaction was calculated and giving them drastic plot changes could have consisted of inconsistencies in moving forward.

Messing up was not an option.

She was going to enjoy the course of events without a hitch.

And watching Kabukimono had become her favorite pastime; he was so adorable and innocent. Like now as he placed the firewood under the cauldron.

Surely he had noticed her fixed gaze on him, for she could see him playing with the sleeves of his robe.

“Asahi is late.”

She chuckled, “He wants to do it himself, as small as he is it will take him a while. He wants to be useful, like you.”

“He shouldn't tire himself though, since he's not very well.”

“I know, but let him do it. It's really cute to see him so hard-working.”

Asahi, the sick child who would add to Kabukimono's suffering when he would pass away.

He was already ill, that tragedy would take place sooner than later.

Another detail she did not remember at all was his name, because she had not given him one. He was just supposed to be an addition for the character that would become Scaramouche.

But if she dug her heels in over everything, she would start to get headaches, so it was best not to question and just comply.

“Water is here!” the small enthusiastic voice of Asahi caught their attention and they saw him almost trip and tip over the bucket full of water.

“That's too much water, Asahi!” Shi Han burst out laughing, helping him move closer to the fire.

“We still need it!”

“Yes, yes. Pour it slowly or you'll ruin the firewood.”

The teasing, the smiles, the chattering, the caresses. These heart-warming interactions had always fascinated Kabukimono.

Every human feeling and emotion captivated him.

There was something mysterious and inexplicable about the way they worked and manifested themselves.

However, the one who attracted him like a moth to a candle was Shi Han.

The manifestation of her emotions was a subtle but strong trait; the change of them could be sudden or slow.

He often found himself staring at her more than he should, completely invaded by a strange feeling that a puppet should not experience.

He had no heart; it was impossible.

Could it perhaps have been her aura? It was not to be ruled out. The villagers also felt at ease with her and almost considered her family.

“Is something wrong?” Shi Han's gentle voice and her face so close to his made him pull back a little from the sudden entry into his view. “I called you several times. Do you feel strange?”

“Oh, no. It’s just… You seem to feel so much happiness…”

“Are you not happy?” Asahi asked confused.

“I could, if I didn’t have…” Unconsciously, his hand went to his chest. “… a void here.”

“You mean, you wish you had a heart?” He nodded and heard Shi Han sigh, sitting next to him. “Mmh, have you ever heard this story before?” the question gained their attention as the child placed the bowl of food on the floor, “There once was a puppet soldier whose greatest wish was to be with a ballerina doll forever and ever. But the soldier didn’t have a heart and didn’t know where his feeling came from. One day, his owner didn’t want him anymore and threw him away into a fire. But even in the flames, his eyes never left the ballerina.” He smiled, ”The next day, the people found a tiny heart in the ashes left by the fire.”

He exhaled, sadness filling his voice, “Probably ashes in the shape of a heart, but that’s not a real heart.”

“Maybe. But what if…” He tilted his head to the side, “… hearts can be born from ashes?”

That would have changed things, but he was not sure.

“You don’t need a heart,” Shi Han spoke, grabbing his hand and slight sparks orerran his body. “The fact that you worry about being empty and that you might not reciprocate in the same way shows that you feel something.” A tender smile played on her lips, eyes looking at him with affection, “You are able to express emotions without it. You are more human that most people. Am I right, Asahi?”

“She is!” he had almost shouted it while nodding firmly.

Her face lit up, as if he had remembered something, “Oh! Asahi! Your handmade gift!”

The child made the same expression, got up and ran to a wooden box, pulling out a doll.

Kabukimono was quite confused.

After the child had gotten closer, he noticed the details of the object better. It was him. Its hair and clothing were the same as his, and it had what looked like a small tear under its eye.

“I'm aware that it didn't turn out that well, but I still wanted to give you a gift.”

He was at loss of words. He had a knot in his throat and his eyes were stinging.

He grabbed the doll and stared at it, a smile forming on his lips.

“Look, you’re smiling,” Shi Han rubbed his shoulder in a comforting way. “You’re happy, Mono.”

“Mono?”

She sucked the air through her teeth before grinning, “Kabukimono is too long. Mono is better.”

He smiled back, feeling shy again but with a tingling sensation.

He heard Asahi giggling, but a coughing fit struck him, bringing Shi Han to stroke his back and him to look at him worriedly.

“Everything is fine, just coughing.”

“You should still get back into bed. I’ll accompany you.”

He followed them with his gaze until they vanished into the other room and went back with his eyes on the doll. He touched its hair, its trim and stitching.

A gift made with affection.

A goal he did not think he could achieve. He thought people would not consider him; lacking a heart he might not feel empathy, or understand certain actions dictated by certain feelings. Consequently, causing estrangements on their part.

Yet they were friendly, loving, and hospitable. They treated him like a son, an older or younger brother, a friend. He felt loved and always wanted to be loved.

And very much loved by Shi Han.

It had become a permanent fixture. He did not want to do anything that could lead her to be bothered by his presence; he wanted to be praised.

More and more.

She had become the first person he spoke to as soon as the sun came out. A strong force continually pushed him toward her. And he did not mind.

Just being near her gave him warmth and love. He could sense it.

Like now, as the sound of the flowing river was heard, sitting at its bank and looking at the night sky.

It was better to say that he was watching her admire the stars.

“I love this view. I've never seen so many stars light up the night.”

“Where you come from there aren't many?”

She shook her head, “No. Let's just say they've… dimmed over time.”

“You will see them often by staying here then.”

She had opened her mouth, but had not spoken. This jolted him slightly and he began to feel a squeeze in his chest at that nonverbal response.

“Are you… leaving?”

Shi Han had definitely noticed the sudden change in mood, because she was hesitating, but she eventually nodded.

“I’m traveling, so… I’m moving all the time.” He turned his head to the other side and pulled his knees to his chest. “I also have to stay with my family. They definitely miss me. But this doesn’t me- wait, what’s wrong? Are you crying?”

Hearing her concerned voice gave him a sense of victory.

First she would sneak in and then decide to leave without thinking about what she had left behind? Without thinking about how he would feel? Was she really going to leave him? Why?

He didn't want to!

Her hand moved his shoulder slightly so she could look at him, but he resisted. He heard her calling him, but he did not answer.

He felt betrayed.

“Mono, please, listen to me!”

“I am.”

“You aren’t. You didn't hear a word I said because you’re still like this.”

He stood up abruptly and looked at her, taking steps back before halting and showing her bag in his hand.

Shi Han had widened her eyes, taken aback and confused by his action.

“Speak the truth. It has to do with that object you always carry in here with you, doesn't it? The way you take care of that thing has always intrigued me. You never show it to anyone, you keep it hidden and you seem obsessed with it.”

She let out a long sigh with her eyes closed, sensing the situation getting out of hand.

She was probably thinking that she would never have thought of such an overreaction on his part and that she didn't even know how they had gotten to this point.

He didn't know either. All he knew was that a trigger had been set off.

“It is because it’s an important object for me. It has an emotional value. It’s a gift.” She explained in a soft voice and stretched out her hands, “Come here, I’ll show you.”

He kept looking at her, stalling for a while until he gave up.

Shi Han reached into the bag and pulled out the object.

"Bring this behind your head," she had lifted that thing above her head and brought with one hand what looked like a strange rope behind it. “Then this to the front,” the large part went in front of her eyes. “And press the button on the left side,” her finger stayed on that specified spot but didn’t press down. “That’s it. But since I break a lot of things, and you know that, I don't use it much to avoid breaking it.” She took it off and smiled at him before putting that thing back in the bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Sorry if I startled you. I was going to talk to everybody about it these days. And I was telling you earlier that I would come back to visit anyway, and we may as well write to each other.”

He lowered his head, distress overtaking him.

Of course there were these options, but they were not like having her by his side all the time.

It was different.

“But I will not see you every day.” his voice had come out hoarse, as if he were tearing up.

“You can travel with me. And we can take Asahi with us, too. If you want, we can ask Niwa as well. I don't know if he would agree to travel, but it doesn't hurt to try.” He raised his head, stunned by the proposal. Shi Han cupped his cheeks, her fingers wiping away tears he did not know were coming out, “There, there, stop crying. Have you calmed down? Do you like my idea? No more sadness?”

He nodded, inhaling a deep breath to cool down.

This myriad of emotions were making him dizzy. And what she did next almost caused him to lose strength in his legs.

She giggled, tousled his hair and rested her lips on his forehead. After that, she hugged him. His face leaning against the crook of her neck, warm and soft skin touching.

“You’re such a good boy.”

Her fingers run through his hair, stroking gently and slowly.

He couldn’t think straight. He was over the moon.

He hugged back, tightening his grip as much as he could without hurting her.

It was like being wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, comfort and fondness. Safe from any danger, feeling special, and have no negative thoughts.

She was the last piece to complete his wish.

Like it was your home.

It felt like home.

He had attained peace. A feeling so wonderful that he wished it would last for eternity.

But against his every thought and will, that newly completed paradise was gone.

Black smoke had begun to surround them, and the villagers began to get sick. They were getting worse and worse, and no one knew how the heck to stop the disease.

And they were dying. They were dying and dying one by one. A chain reaction that had spread terror and despair. And the helplessness about the situation didn’t help.

Hence, he decided to ask for help from the one who had created him, the Electro Archon herself.

He did not want to leave Shi Han, Asahi and Niwa alone, but he had to do something.

When he arrived in Inazuma, no one would let him in to have an audience with the Archon. With tears in his eyes and desperation clouding his senses, he did not for a single moment stop asking about his creator, displaying the golden feather around his neck, left by her in his hands.

Even though Yae Miko appeared in Ei's place, he begged to save the villagers, on his knees, his hands grasping her clothes. Shepromised help, and he believed her.

After returning to Tatarasuna, he saw Shi Han standing outside the house in the distance.

“Shi Han! The shogunate will come here! Let’s inform Niwa and-“

Now close by, he could notice Shi Han's dull eyes and bare feet. A bad omen took hold of him and he ran toward Asahi's bedroom.

When he saw him, Asahi seemed to be asleep.

Deeply asleep.

He had a lump in his throat, his hands began to shake.

That was a joke, wasn’t it? Asahi was definitely joking. It was not the best moment to do that, but he was playing around.

For sure.

“Asahi, it’s not good time to play. You need to wake up. The… The shogunate is coming and…”

One touch and he suddenly pulled his hand away, as if electrocuted.

Asahi was cold to the touch. Too cold.

No. No! No! No! Please, no!

Why? Why was all this happening? What had they done wrong to undergo such a thing?

The child’s words crossed his mind and he smiled through the tears.

He was here. Asahi was still here. His heart was still here.

And without a second thought, the flames enveloped both him and the house. He waited, waited until he could see it, but there was nothing there.

No heart from the ashes but anger and sadness made an appearance.

He clenched his hands into fists, tears that would not stop falling, “How dare you die like this, and break your promise to me?” He sneered, “What a joke… It’s just ashes, nothing left but ashes.”

He lifted his head up, a deep sigh leaving him. He stayed like that for a while before walking out.

He still had his Shi Han. He needed her hugs and sweet words.

He needer her.

However, he did not expect to see her with that black object on her head, her hands still on each side of it.

Hesitantly, he spoke, “Shi Han?”

Their eyes met, and what hers conveyed made him even more desperate.

“What… are you doing?”

Shi Han gulped, lips quivering and voice shaking, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

It was too much.

Tragedy was to come, but she did not imagine it so suddenly. She had not even had time to breathe. It was all going too fast, and witnessing it firsthand had never been in her plans. To see the life of someone you spend time with vanish before her eyes without being able to do anything to stop it was the most deplorable torture there was.

Waking up from the catatonic state with the smell of smoke from the flames Kabukimono had started burning the house in which she had memories was another pain.

She could not take it.

It was all too realistic; she did not even believe she was in her own game anymore. Maybe she was and there had been mistakes during the data transfer.

She didn’t care anymore. She wanted to get the fuck out.

If she had entered in the game with the VR, she could as well come out of it.

Fear was dominating her and she didn’t give a shit about anything or anybody else. She couldn’t.

She was doing what was right for her sanity. And she also felt so bad for that.

“What are you saying? I… I don’t get it.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I can’t stay here any longer.”

“Wait, wait! What do you mean? What are you trying to say? Where are you going? Where-“

Adjusting her VR, she pressed the button and everything was reduced into a spiral of colors. Seeing the familiar white room again, she collapsed on the floor, relief taking over her senses. Hearing her friends' and co-fonders’ voice put a definite end to that long moment.

But for Kabukomono had been an istant. A light and then nothing. She was gone.

His Shi Han was gone.

Where? Where had she gone? What had she done to make herself disappear? And why? So was it a lie? She did want to leave him?!

His head hammered incessantly, it felt like needles penetrating and pushing deep. His pupils constricted, a silent scream leaving his body, his hands clutching his head to try to stop the pain.

It hurt. It was unberable.

“Shi Han! Shi Han!” he sobbed. “Don’t go! Come back! Why are you doing this?! Please! Please, don’t leave me! Shi Han, please! Don’t leave me!”

Shi Han exhaled, almost running out of air. After regaining oxygen, she sat on the edge of the bed and a sigh of relief left her lips.

She was in her room, probably after she fell asleep and was brought in.

That was terrifying.

Dreaming of those events was not really something she expected. She had had nightmares after returning from here, but they had faded after a few months.

Guilt was kicking in again.

She needed a glass of fresh water for her dry throat.

Movements alerted her and she got up, spotting Hikaru under the moonbeams picking up her bag and placing it on the chair.

“Oh, it’s you. Was it you who brought me here?”

“Did you think it was someone else?”

“I… never thought you would do that,” she giggled. “but thank you.”

He just hummed, “Your bag fell and this thing slipped,” he lifted one of his hand to show her VR, the other one on his hip. “Nothing broken, you can rest assured.”

She let out a sigh of relief, “Ah, thank God- Archons. It’s a precious item for me.”

She walked over, checking that nothing was really broken, and put it back in the bag, then holding the latter to herself and returning to the bed to place it on the nightstand.

She wanted to hit herself because she had almost made a stupid mistake. Here they were not thanking God but the Archons.

It had never happened before, but the air was imbued with something strange.

It was heavy, tense.

“Is something wrong? You look nervous, Shi Han.”

“Oh, it’s al-“

Her heart skipped a beat, turning pale. She turned around to look at him, searching for something in his eyes that suggested she had heard wrong.

She had certainly heard him wrong. A trick of her ears. He didn’t know her real name.

“What…?” it was almost inaudible and she saw him tilt his head to the side. “Oh, sorry, Hikaru. I thought- nothing, don’t worry,” she shook her head and gesticulated with her hands. “I really should sleep.”

“Hikaru was the best name you could have chosen. I really had an enlightenment in my life.” One step forward, one more, another, as he continued, “But giving it to me through the Traveler was not necessary. I would rather you had given it to me in person.”

He was there, close to her. Too close. She was petrified.

His irises seemed to glow in the dark. Threatening, smothering.

She did not know how or when, but she felt pressure on her arm, was pulled to the side, and the sound of something being broken echoed the room.

Her eyes settled on the nightstand, where her bag was no longer. Her lips began to tremble, her face to distort with fear, and her breathing became labored.

His foot was still on top of it, the VR inside shredded.

He knew. He knew her real name, about her.

Fuck! Fuck!

How was this possibile? How did he find out?! Did her presence really lead to this? She had been careful, avoiding anything that might spoil the plan. Really!

Realization kicked in and she stared at him, while his eyes had never left her and had watched her every facial change.

“You used my VR!”

“Is that what it is called? It is certainly a wonderful invention.” With his hand still holding her arm, he drew her to him, chests touching and faces a short distan apart. “It made me see your world. Our past.” She could feel his breath against her lips. “You don't know... how painful it was after you left me. Asahi, Niwa, you. I saw the darkness, and called your names. Yours especially.” His other arm went around her waist, pressing their bodies together as tightly as he could, ”I wanted your hugs, your caresses, your reassuring words. You were my support, my fixed thought. But after a while, I began to forget you, only you. Probably because you are connected to my world and can manipulate a few things. And I bet the stars and the sky are part of it, aren't they?”

She gulped, trying to push him away, but she couldn’t.

It was happening too fast, she couldn’t react. Her head was spinning, her pupils shaking.

“But I’m also aware of how what happened has worn you down. You tried to make things better, giving me a new rebirth.” He gave her a knowing lopsided smile, a sinister glint in his eyes, “Everything is okay, honey. Your suffering is coming to an end. You will be reborn with a new you. I promise.”

A flashback of her stroking his hair and humming a melody while he was in a coma popped into her mind. He had recited the same words she had said.

He had heard it all.

“I'm sure you didn't do it all by yourself. Someone helped you. But even knowing the current situation, Lesser Lord Kusanali did not act on it. I assume that no one can do anything if you are involved.” His hand left her arm, which fell dead weight, and moved towards her chin, cupping it, “Am I right, Clara?”

She coudn’t breathe.

Demanding, controlling, out of his mind.

“Am I right?”

She breathed out, “Yes.”

“It means no one can meddle between us. Is that correct again?”

“... Yes.”

His face lit up, a smile making her skin crawl.

He giggled, caressing her cheek. He placed his lips on her forehead, before cupping her cheeks and kissing her.

She was squeezing her eyes, paralyzed.

He nipped at her lip, causing her to flinch and taking advantage of this, he swept his tongue between her lips, tangling and tinkling their tongues together.   

He broke the kiss, staring at her with eyes filled with confirmed madness.

And hugged her. Her face against the crook of his neck.

“You’re such a good girl.”

The paradox was paralytic and finding a way out erased.

She realized that she had taken Nahida's words lightly.

But what could she have known? How could she have known that he would behave this way? These were not excuses! She could not have foreseen this!

But unconsciously she had believed that she would not arouse suspicion. Foolishly she had gotten too close.

And she had brought disaster with her.

Memories had surfaced that should not be there.

An unwanted insight into something that should not have been there.

He was so attached to her that his affection had transcended time and space, outclassing that betrayal and seeing the positive side of her redemption toward him that would also be projected onto her game, having a close connection between parallel and video game realities.

But she was the culprit. She had decided to test the waters by prolonging her stay in a place that was beginning to seem strange to her.

And she was paying the consequences. Willy-nilly.

[vampirebloodie]

Playing Dangerous | Mark Hoffman x Reader

Summary: An interrogation by Hoffman makes the two of you playing a dangerous and fiery game inside his cop car

Warning: NSFW Smut 18+, creampie, masturbation, oral sex (f on m), daddykink, unprotected sex, age gap!

You were being investigated for being suspected of being an apprentice of the serial killer Jigsaw, well, the police were right about that accusation, but anyway they didn't have enough evidence to send you behind bars. Instead they sent a detective who was on the case to talk to you, homicide detective Mark Hoffman, you didn't know him personally yet, but John had been keeping an eye on him for some time due to some mistakes he made.

You set a trap just as John had requested, but somehow something went wrong and ended up causing an explosion that quickly caught the attention of nearby authorities, you managed to escape but left behind a personal item that unfortunately was not consumed by the flames and through it they found your DNA from your marked fingers.

The police sent you to a small room to wait until he arrived, you were bored as you listened to the clock on the wall, until you heard the sound of footsteps and soon the door was opened revealing who the much talked about detective was, he was better than you imagined, he wasn't as tall, but he had strong arms, large hands and a serious expression on his face, in addition to being clearly much older than you, which made you instantly attracted.

“Y/n, im detective Mark Hoffman.”

He entered the room where there was only a table and two chairs, he sat in front of you.

“I’m Y/n, but you already know that”

"Yeah, i know."

He said as he rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, showing off his toned arms and big hands, making your mouth water. He noticed you looking and twisted his neck. Was he married?

“How do you feel, y/n?”

“Well, im a little shaken but im fine, thanks for asking”

You smiled.

“Well, you know why you’re here, you know about the accusations, don’t you?”

You sighed.

“I know, i wouldn't do a thing like that. That’s for sure.”

“You were there when it all happened and at the scene of the crime.”

“It was just a coincidence, the house was already on fire, i swear, im not a liar”

“How could i believe that?”

“Everybody knows that im a good girl, officer”

“I don’t know you well enough to believe you’re a good girl.”

“I can prove to you that im a good girl, officer...”

You noticed him licking his lips and thought you could emerge victorious from the situation, but soon you heard the noise of the handcuffs holding your hands.

“Do you really have to put those tight handcuffs on?”

“You can ask your lawyer about that tomorrow, come on.”

He got up from the chair and pulled you out of the room, the hallways were empty, it was night and there were probably just the two of you there at the police station.

“Tell me do you always work alone so late?”

You tried to bring up a topic as you walked to a cell.

“More than you think, i have a lot of work to do. Especially with people like you.”

You ignored the offense and noticed him trying to hide his gaze at your body now that you were no longer behind that table, the police caught you in the middle of the night, you were already asleep, so you ended up wearing just a red lace nightgown, a robe and shoes, it would even be funny if it weren't tragic.

“Gosh, im a little shy staying here in my night gown, im so sorry officer”

You pouted, pretending to be sad.

“I think you should talk less and walk more.”

He opened the cell with a key and made you go in there, before he could close it and leave you called him again after noticing his hands one last time, he took a deep breath. You knew he was starting to get annoyed.

“Officer, do you have a girl? i don't see a ring on your finger”

You asked with a dirty smile on your face and he looked at his fingers before looking at you again.

“As i said, i have a lot of work, so no. You should rest, good night, Y/n”

He turned his back to leave.

“Well that's interesting, have you ever thought of dating a younger girl?”

He turned around again and you opened your silk robe, revealing your short nightgown.

“What do you want with me, girl?”

“I've been bad, i've been wrong, playing a dangerous game. But now i wanna play with you.”

He ran his hands over his face, you knew he was one step away from not resisting anymore. You walked up to him again, placing your mouth close to his ear.

“Let's get in the back of your cop car, officer. There you can ask me anything you want anything, anything”

You whispered. Before you could have any kind of reaction, he kissed you, his mouth was so soft and your sweet lipstick made everything got better, his mouth kissed your neck leaving a lot of marks, his hands pulled you out of the cell again, you walked with quick and rough steps to the police station parking lot, where Hoffman practically threw you into the police car, you groaned at the impact.

“You’re going to regret teasing me, slut.”

He threatened and you laughed, but soon let out a moan of pain when you felt his hands grab your hair tightly, pulling your head back, his hand grabbed your chin, making you face him.

“Don’t think im joking, Y/n.”

“You don’t seem to be, officer”

You pulled your head back, taking his hand off your chin, pushing him, which made him get more angry and tighten his hold on your hair, making you let out another moan of pain. You couldn't deny it, you were loving his aggressive way against you.

“You’re going to prove that you’re a good girl, hm?”

“Yes, i am, daddy”

He ran his finger across your lips and smiled sideways, he liked the way you had just called him, you licked his finger.

"Yea? So be a good girl, you know what i want.”

He made a small caress on your cheek.

"Yes"

"Yes what?"

“Yes, daddy.”

You spoke and saw his blue eyes darken with excitement. He uncuffed your hands, Hoffman sat in front of you and you started to undo his pants, you could already feel how hard he was, pulling down his underwear his member practically jumped in your face, he pulled your head down and you grabbed his dick and started making movements masturbating him, Hoffman was breathing heavily and you could already feel your insides starting to get wet. You ran your tongue along the entire length, wetting it before putting it all in your mouth and starting to suck, listening to Mark's low moans. Your saliva ran all over his cock, from the head to his balls. Luckily the vehicle was a larger size than normal, which didn't make you two so cramped and uncomfortable.

Mark grabbed your hair and started to fuck your mouth quickly and moved his hips up several times, you felt his member hitting your throat, making you feel nauseas, tears covered your face and the worn makeup stained your skin. The detective enjoyed watching his suffering while pleasuring him.

“That’s it, little bitch. Suck it properly, hm?”

When Mark felt that he was close to cumming, he removed his cock from your mouth and pulled you by your arms, placing you against the window with your back to him, you moaned when your body hit the glass, his big hands roamed your body until you reached your ass, where he pulled your nightie up and pulled down your panties, Hoffman's long, thick fingers caressed your pussy and clit before pushing themselves inside your core, you gasped when he began to move them quickly, making a wet sound due to your high natural lubricity.

“A-ah, Mark”

You moaned and screamed when you felt a hard slap on your ass, which had definitely left the mark of his hand.

“Mark no.”

“Sorry, daddy”

He rubbed the head of his cock against your wet entrance for a few seconds before sinking fully inside you, making you scream due to the burn of his huge cock opening your tight insides. His hand went to your neck, starting to squeeze and holding your breath.

“That slut can handle everything, yea? You’re daddy’s good girl, hm?”

He said as he moved roughly inside you, the sound of his balls hitting your inner thighs, his free hand squeezing your flesh, where he would probably leave bruises for the next few days. You couldn't respond due to the lack of air that was turning your face a purple shade, Mark let go of your neck giving you space to breathe, he pulled you and placed you against the bench, leaving you upright, he took your right leg and placed it on top of the backseat headrest, leaving you completely open to him.

Hoffman thrust himself into you again, pressing your head against the bench and thrusting inside you again, his fingers began to massage your clit, you were almost crying from so much excitement as you moaned against the bench, Hoffman pulled your hair back making your back hit his chest while he held your leg to keep you still open.

Your stomach contracted and you squeezed him inside you tightly, the head of his cock hit your G-spot over and over again, feeling his legs tremble and yours too, with a scream you came on Mark's cock which he hadn't finished yet and he continued pushing inside you, you felt like you could pass out at any moment, Hoffman growled before you felt his liquid filling you completely, leaving your insides hot. You both caught your breath and he pulled out of you, your legs gave way and he caught you before you fell to the floor of the car.

“Now you’re going to answer my questions, cunt.”

[marlinspirkhall]

I watched the unaired Selection pilots so you don't have to

But, if you want to, you can do so here, and here (password: “selection”), credit to Media Garage on YouTube

Edit: links no longer active

The Selection (2012)

Strong Hunger Games vibes throughout, the plain-text opening screen isn't helping

Stock-footage of rolling hills gets replayed way too much

ETHAN PECK?

Unlike in the books, America only finds out she's been entered into The Selection after she gets selected, so the plot point about the photoshoot & her radiant smile being the thing which gets her selected no longer applies, I guess

Everyone in the YouTube comments was saying that Aspen and Maxon were miscast & the actors' roles should have been swapped (... No comment. I believe in you, Mr Peck)

This castle is looks too small to fit 24 TV show contestants in it

Fiona, unprompted: “Can you keep a secret, America?”

America: “I have been known to”

Fiona: “I play the violin”

Okay? (This is actually a very sweet moment and, again, Fiona may be the best actress in this)

This episode covered a significant portion of the first book, out of order, which makes me wonder if the intention was to cover all 3 books in one series.

This almost feels like half of a film, making me wonder if someone adapted a film spec script into a tv show spec script

Apparently, Fiona has a secret child and Celeste knows about it, causing Fiona to drop out on day one and tearfully warn America to “trust no one, there's no such thing as friends here”- which is a fucking wild thing to say when she's probably the only contestant who's been nice to America so far & Celeste didn't even need to get to know her to know her secrets because she has spies anyway 😭

It's worth reminding you that they have been at the palace for one entire day total

You think Queen Amberly is being fleshed out in this version but... Hmm

Amberly appears to be the one pulling the strings from behind the scenes (she confronts Celeste about extorting Fiona, tells her "she would have gone home in due time" and to "leave America to me. Anything we do to try and separate them [her and Maxom] will only make him want her more")

Again: IT HAS BEEN A DAY

America sees her servant gathering all her dresses (none of which she has used yet, bar the yellow and green ones) including the iconic blue one from the book cover. America asks what's happening and the servant replies: “Prince Maxom's orders”

Cut to America's family. They open a box with a glittering pair of high heels inside. I guess this is supposed to mirror the part of the book where Maxom cuts off the stipend for 2's and 3's who are in the selection?

If you think this version feels unfaithful to the book, just wait until you see The CW's pilot

IT HAS BEEN ONE DAY

Runtime: one day 45 minutes

Final rating: 5/10, kinda long and stiff in places and the set design was all over the place. Felt like a Hallmark movie (the set design didn't help). Probably would watch another episode of this if it was a full series or a limited series of 3-6 episodes. A little script-doctoring and a better set would work wonders.

The Selection (2013)

I cannot stress enough: this version begins with a sex scene between Maxom and a servant

Okay, I got ahead of myself; it actually begins with another hunger-games-esque black screen with text on it, text which reads “Someday, in the future”, which is read aloud by a woman's voice.

We zoom in on a much roomier-looking castle on a hill, as a random whip sound effect plays (leading into the sex scene, in which no whips are present)

All the female servants in the palace are dressed in sexy maid costumes and I wish I was kidding

The world map explaining the history of Illea is CONFUSING AS HELL, but maybe they hadn't nailed down all the details yet. I'm genuinely not sure

ANTONY HEAD?

Aspen is introduced tied to a St Andrew's cross and being watched over by a guard. America asks the guard to free him, he chases her through the streets, she circles back and cuts Aspen down

America's selection is similar to the 2012 pilot, except Aspen is present. America asks her mom why she'd enter her into the selection when “You know I'm with Aspen”, so uh, I guess they're not keeping it a secret here.

There's also no mention of Aspen being of a lower caste than her, nor of America having a job other than the vague title of "laboring class" which hangs over them all, vaguely

This is a masterclass in editing and pacing. The dialogue is okay, but the added geopolitics make no sense. Any issues with this are smoothed over by the fact that the plot keeps moving forwards at a breakneck pace to keep you distracted.

The lack of breathing room would probably be too confusing for an audience who wasn't already familiar with The Selection

The set here is absolutely beautiful but unfortunately it gives me Merlin vibes, and casting Antony Head as the king does not help with this.

Maxon attempts to pull a Mr Darcy. He then tells America that if she runs away with Aspen, the guards will beat him to a pulp and they'll both spend the rest of their lives in prison. America suggests that she make the monarchy look good so the working class don't side with the rebels. Looks like we're going full Hunger Games.

Celeste's handmaiden seems way too devoted to her; they turn out to be lovers

Just when you think Maxon might start redeeming himself, we see the palace guards swarm Aspen and kicking him. Maxom stands nearby on his horse overseeing this so there's no question of whether he did it or not

Final rating: 6/10, I would absolutely watch another episode of this. It was an absolute mess, but I've seen teen wolf, so I'm not gonna pretend I'm above it.

This feels like the kind of pilot which would get greenlit just to attract hateviewers.

Summary:

Neither protagonist had red hair and neither adaptation was trying particularly hard to give it to her (2012: dark red box dye. 2013: blonde!)

These actors are doing their best and some of them even seem to be having fun (good for them)

In the 2013 pilot, the writers lampshade America running around “like an action hero”, but she promptly forgets how to do that by the midpoint of the episode, so w/e

It feels like the 2013 pilot was a reworking of the 2012 pilot, because there were too many similarities carried over from one script to another which weren't present in the original book, like Fiona having a secret relationship.

I forgot to mention that Aspen has a brother in the 2013 pilot. He seems to be adapted from the palace guard who has a relationship with one of the contestants in a later book.

I can't get over how fucking weird of a decision it is to make the kind and likeable love interest into a power-corrupt despot, but it does feel more true to an actual monarchy. I assume they were trying to give Maxon a bad-boy vibe, which doesn't make much sense because that's supposed to be Aspen's whole deal.

There was a whole subplot in both pilots where an advisor character is revealed to be working with the rebels at the end of the episode

Extremely funny to me that the 2012 pilot makes a point of mentioning that sex before marriage is illegal and the 2013 pilot opens with premarital sex with the prince regent