#so we were like we'll probably manage to see each other right?

[oukabarsburgblr]

Hi! Love your work! I dont know if your requests are open but Id love to see more of your Haikyuu work! Loved the the recent one and i just cant stop rereading it.

I wonder what would happen if reader was hit on by one of the other volleyball players before/after the matches. I just wanna see the three boys get jealous and protective honestly hahahd ofc if you dont want to write this its okay too! ( Ps. I also love ur Daisuke one, i love him hes so cute 🥰🥺 cant wait to see more of ur work )

drabble...aftermath of Karasuno

taglist : @ayuxiru @tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer

i stopped working on my haikyuu fics bc i started s4 and i could NOT see atsumus face HAHHAHH idky i HATE HIM ARGH/jk. We love Daisuke in this household. Can anyone tell Daichi is my favourite? HAHA

this will be the last one for the crows CAW CAW

harassed, dark in general

Find out more under the cut!

[SCENARIOS LOADING...]

Another team harasses the manager!

[START SCENE]

"Hey! Karasuno's manager! Don't make such an ugly face."

A certain (h/c) frowned, being cornered by tall volleyball players from other schools. He had just went to retrieve the paper rosters from the organizers for their current tournaments at the Sendai Gymnasium where Preliminaries are being held when he was stopped by students from other schools.

"You look like you don't have a lot on your hands right now. Why don't you come with us? Free some tension...you probably need it." A hand grasped (m/n)'s shoulders to which the (h/c) swatted it away. "Don't touch me." He hissed as he tried to move past them but another shoved him back against the walls, them moving closer to the manager.

"Hey hey. We're all friends here, right?" Hissing in pain as the hand lodged in his shoulder pressed his nails further, crinkling his black jumpsuit. "Listen here, fucker. I don't know what household you grew up in, but go ride someone else's dick. Better yet, why don't you go suck each other off? Since you're so desperate for some action."

(m/n) spat, his foul mouth and his temper wasn't a good combination but it was the right mixture for this situation. He pushed the players' arm and was ready to leave until his hair was clenched painfully.

A yelp from (m/n) and the ringleader of the group pulled his face close. "Nice face but a repulsive tongue...damn and I thought we could do this nicely. We'll find a use for your mouth soon." "Let go, asshole-"

Fuck, who do they think they are? The only one grabbing my hair is usually-

"I suggest you let him go."

A heavy voice uttered from behind them, catching the attention of the group. Asahi clasped the hand that seized (m/n)'s head. "Before I break your wrist." He muttered with a death glare, the light in his eyes gone.

"Fuck! Is he the coach or something?!" One of them whispered, scanning his mature features. Someone grasped (m/n)'s hand, pulling him away from the group. "Learn how to take a hint when someone says they don't like you." Sugawara pushed the manager behind him.

"Or go die in some random dump, you trash."

He stated blandly, his voice losing any cheery tone he would always carry. How ironic. (m/n) could never be more glad that the third years were here, clenching the papers in his hand. He felt someone gently pull his bicep.

"Go." Daichi muttered. "The team's around the corner. Go see Kiyoko for..." He brushed (m/n)'s head, where his hair was tousled.

The only one who would usually, or rather the only one, grabbing (m/n)'s head, tugging his hair, digging their nails into his scalp was Daichi Sawamura.

The (h/c) didn't think twice to leave the scene, not leaving a glance to the yelling players who had harassed him, Daichi particularly approaching the one who had pulled (m/n)'s hair.

-

He didn't want to be here anymore, (m/n) lazily draped himself across the railings. Only one manager was allowed on the benches so he and Yachi had to sit up in the audience' seats but he asked for some alone time from Yachi, her concerned about him after hearing that he was disturbed by a team from another school earlier.

Hinata had jumped up and about when (m/n) returned to their team, demanding to know who had hurt his friend and Kiyoko checked his scalp, making sure nothing was broken and everything was fine. Tanaka was adamant on being a good senior and wanting to avenge his manager so he went to help the third years who were confronting the aggressors but immediately retreated, staying quiet when Ennoshita asked what they were up to.

The games started and the first match went well, battling up against a two meter player. Daichi didn't speak to him yet. (m/n) noticed a bruise forming on Asahi's jaw and Sugawara only smiled at him quietly.

Second game came around and (m/n) held back a flight of curses from his mouth when the team Karasuno had to play against were the same players who had cornered him earlier, their captain glaring holes into Daichi. He noticed a few of them were missing, specifically the bitchy ringleader.

"Hey, (m/n). Thought you'd be down there this time."

Oikawa approached his cousin, leaning onto the railings in a similar fashion to the (h/c). "I guess all third years in your team is staying huh." He poked (m/n). "Yeah." He mumbled. "Looks like yours too."

(e/c) glanced at the Seijoh team that were currently watching over Karasuno's briefing by their coach. He noticed a new player. Someone that has a tennis ball for a head.

"Well, we're gonna beat Shiratorizawa this year. I'm gonna show Ushiwaka who's boss." "You say that at every game." The setter slapped (m/n)'s back, the latter yelping and smacking his laughing cousin. "So gloomy and for what? Your team seems to be energetic-...well they're playing more aggressive than usual."

Asahi slammed the ball set by Kageyama, earning a point as the libero was unable to receive the spinning ball. The ace looked furious, his eyebrows furrowing as he asked Kageyama for a faster set. Sugawara was itching to get on the court, pacing around, warming his legs up so he could be ready when he had a chance to play. Daichi was silent, his usual words of affirmation to the team gone. Only Tanaka and Nishinoya cheering when they won a point.

"We're going to win. Against them at least." Daichi muttered, his eyes gazing up at (m/n) when Coach Ukai took a timeout and asked what was wrong and why their play styles had differ today.

(m/n) stared back but quickly looked away when he felt butterflies in his stomach. He couldn't tell what those insects were trying to tell him. Daichi had warmed his bed a lot for the past month, even his parents assumed he was his boyfriend by how often he had came over to his house.

Karasuno won a fast game. Two sets straight, 25 - 17 and 25 - 13. The last set where all the third years were deployed went by quick, Asahi shining as the MVP.

"Well, that's my cue. I wonder when we'd play against you, it'd be any different." "....It will." Oikawa raised an eyebrow. "Thought you'd support me this time. Given how your team lost on our last match." "But they'll win."

(m/n) peered at Oikawa, from the corner of his eyes. "My team will win beating yours, Tooru." The setter only stared down at the manager with a smirk.

"What's with the change of heart?" "..."

He didn't reply, only getting up to greet the team as he stood in the hallways, letting Hinata crash into him. Sugawara pulled the middle blocker off of him. "Now now. Stop causing trouble or Takeda-sensei won't let us watch the other teams play." They were done for the day and as requested by Kageyama, they went to see Seijoh's match.

Sugawara held (m/n) behind however, letting the team go first as they stood in an isolated staircase. He ran his fingers through (h/c) hair, his eyes squinting at the manager as he smiled reassuringly. "I hope you're alright, (m/n). We beat them for you. Those idiots. People who have nothing else to do but lay their waste on innocents like you."

The (h/c) hummed uneasily, leaning his head on the setter's shoulders and his fingers clutching onto the latter's jersey. "I didn't mean to talk to them. They cornered me." "I know, I know." Sugawara cooed, his other hand caressing (m/n)'s back.

A similar but earlier incident had happened, whereas a student confessed to the (h/c), who declined but Hinata excitedly told the team and Sugawara had an outburst in private, accusing (m/n) of cheating behind their backs despite them having no declaration, only taming (m/n) into their current relationship.

"Did I ever scare you? You look at me like I'm going to snap your neck at any second." The setter teased, his hand trailing over (s/c) neck, his fingertips pressing onto (m/n)'s Adam's apple. "No. You wouldn't." That was a bluff.

He had learned that Sugawara had the most violent tantrums out of the three. Paranoid, spiralling about what (m/n) does when he wasn't around. The (h/c) had learned what to say, what to do overtime, to ease the third year.

Said third year smiled at him. "If anyone ever approaches you, like earlier, scream our names okay." He always made sure to include Daichi and Asahi. "Remember, you're our favourite."

He winked at the (h/c) who didn't give much of a reaction, only hugging the setter. Was there any difference between those assholes and the third years in Karasuno? Both of those groups forced him, into these uneasy situations, Karasuno taking a longer approach.

Crows tend to build their nests with meticulous resolve, choosing the right twigs and taking the softest materials for the lining. Karasuno did live up to their name, (m/n) completely accepting his predicament, laying in the den Daichi, Sugawara and Asahi had woven for him.

Sugawara pulled (m/n)'s face up, smiling at him before pressing his lips to the (h/c) who opened his mouth when the setter swiped his tongue on his lips. "Let me hear you, (m/n)." The setter muttered as he pressed his wet muscle against (m/n)'s caressing his palate and pressing their bodies closer.

"Mmnff ahh! N-Not here Suga- ahk!" (m/n) choked when he felt a hand cupping his crotch, his breath shaky and coming out in stutters as he pushed Sugawara's chest. His cheeks were hot and he clenched his fist on Suga's jersey.

"Hahaha is it because we're in public? You'd be much more in trouble with Asahi then." The setter pulled away, letting (m/n) breathe as he dragged him up the stairs and they stepped into the auditorium seating. "Go. You owe me a date for this." He kissed the (h/c)'s forehead before pushing him to the row where Asahi and Daichi were.

The setter walked past them, opting to sit beside the second years, distracting them when they asked where was the manager. Said manager stood nervously, Asahi and Daichi silent, both of them sat in the furthest behind row, whereas everyone was sitting close to the railings to watch the games.

Usually (m/n) had no problem conversing with them, the third years constantly talking first but here they are staying silent. "...Good game." He referred to the two sets they stole from those assholes.

The captain didn't even look at him, only staring into space with a frown on his face. Asahi spared him a glance before beckoning the (h/c) to sit next to him. But as he was about to sit, the brunette pulled his arm, making him land in Asahi's lap instead.

"Huh? What are you-" He was silenced by Daichi's glance, his heart racing as Asahi adjusted him, placing him directly on top his crotch. "Sorry, (m/n)." The ace buried his face into the (h/c)'s shoulders. "Let me borrow you for a bit."

Here? In public? Where anyone could see him being used like a fucking-

His hands shook as he tried to peel himself off Asahi, but the latter only tightened his hold, crushing his waist with his muscular arms. "I'm sorry." The brunette mumbled apologies and (m/n) could feel his erection pressing up against his pants. He prayed the others wouldn't turn around. Daichi didn't move a finger, (m/n) couldn't read his face as he hopelessly squirmed in Asahi's lap.

He's going to see. He's going to look at me and see me like this.

His heart was beating fast, the ace still breathing heavily behind him and grinding his bottom on him. Daichi still didn't give any reaction. (m/n) felt his heartstrings pulled as the captain didn't give a damn of what was happening to him. Unintentionally, he glorified- favoured? Treasured the ravenette the most, the one who always seemed so distant from him yet was so close and quick to clog his throat-

Tears welled up in his (e/c) eyes as he turned his face away when he saw Tsukishima glanced at him from the corner of his sight. He genuinely prayed that no one else would see him in this shameful state.

Asahi stopped bucking his hips when a high pitched heave escaped from the (h/c)'s throat, (m/n) holding in a sob as he carved his nails into the ace's arm. "Shh...it's fine. No one saw anything. They just think you're sitting on me." He whispered into the manager's ear who shook his head. Tsukishima saw him and he was one of the smart ones. The rest of Karasuno hadn't seen but what about the other teams? Strangers who might pass by their rows. He hated how his three seniors didn't give a damn about his pride.

Asahi didn't make himself obvious, he just wanted to loose some steam is all. In the end, he did use (m/n) like those harassers did albeit tamer than expected but the intentions were there nonetheless. (m/n) whimpered endlessly as he was placed to sit on the cushioned seat in the same one as the ace, still with Asahi seated close behind him. (s/c) hands trembled as he peered at the captain who cruelly ignored him the entire time.

A tear slipped down his cheek as Asahi cooed at him, apologising and kissing his ears while rubbing his waist. Ensuring the (h/c) that he didn't even got off or anything as he whispered sweet nothings with his apparent boner pressing against (m/n)'s back. The manager was much more prone to crying when they were in public.

His hands hugged Azumane's as he leaned back into the ace's body, his attempt to hide his figure as he pulled on the ace's black jacket. "Hic- you're so fucking- mean to me." (m/n) whined as Asahi peppered kisses all over his face, his stubble scratching against his skin.

"I won't do it again." The ace muttered, placing his chin on the manager's head. (m/n) peered up and noticed the forming bruise. His fingers went to delicately trace them. "I knocked his teeth out." Asahi mumbled.

"Would've done more if their manager hadn't come running." (m/n) flinched when he heard Daichi utter. The first he spoke around the (h/c) after the whole harassment he suffered.

Coarse rough fingers covered his eyesight, a fingertip pressing against his right eye lightly, brushing his lashes and the ace placed his face down where (m/n) had his hair violently tugged. "Tell me if you want him to lose more."

(m/n) didn't say anything, only nodding as he let the ace touch his body, caressing his chest and inhaling his scent. He didn't feel bad for the attackers at all. They dug their own grave for being assholes.

He caught Daichi staring at him, the captain still facing straight but his eyes gazed into the (h/c)'s face as he slowly returned his focus back onto Seijoh's match.

(m/n) managed to pull himself off of the ace when the games were over and Karasuno was preparing to leave. He made sure he avoided Tsukishima, not wanting to answer any of his probing questions. He had went ahead to wash the water bottles at a pipe when he heard footsteps behind him.

He looked behind him to see Daichi with the bottle carrier, the captain picking up the clean ones and placing it in its stations while (m/n) finished up the last one. A rare act of kindness from the captain to the (h/c). "Are there any others left?" (m/n) shook his head to Daichi's question.

The captain staring at him with dead eyes and (m/n) noticed the small blot of red on the edge of his knuckles. He didn't say anything, carefully pulling Daichi's hand and placing it under the tap, letting the water flow and washing the ravenette's hand.

Said ravenette stared down at him with his usual silence. At times like this, (m/n) could never tell what the captain was thinking. Was he observing on what he would do? No. Daichi was too confident in his...work. Of what he made of (m/n) (l/n).

Maybe he expected it. (s/c) fingers rubbed the knuckles, ridding the smell of blood and dirt as Daichi stood directly behind the manager. "Did they hurt you?" The manager shook his head again. "I'm fine. They didn't do much."

He could feel eyes boring into the back of his head, the captain glaring holes at the part where they pulled (m/n)'s hair. "It's good for you to know."

Know what? The manager wanted to ask but opted to stay quiet instead. He could feel Daichi leaning into his (h/c) hair, them letting the faucet run under their intertwined hands.

"No one else can hurt you." (m/n) carefully turned his head around and found black eyes staring down at him. "Not Suga and not even Asahi..." The captain muttered, his other hand gripping the manager's jaw, the latter letting out a small gasp.

"Only me. And it will stay that way as long as I'm here." He muttered, leaning so close to (m/n)'s face, the other baring a blank expression, knowing and not daring to show any sign of fear.

"Be aware and be good....I'll take care of you."

The (h/c) nodded, the grip on his jaw loosened and suddenly he was enclosed with a kiss. Daichi pressed against the manager and bit his lower lip, prompting moans as (m/n) shakily wrapped his arms around the captain's neck, his knees weak.

Both of them leaned against the sink and there was a faint sound of an ambulance siren that could barely be heard over the shaky gasps and lustful moans the manager spilled from his throat. It was wrong to love your abuser. (m/n) wouldn't call it love.

He would never care for someone like Daichi.

But he couldn't leave. There was no option for someone like him, he could only embrace and lay in the nest the third years made for him. A good first year to embrace their devilish intent.

[END SCENE]

I planned like a smut scene where daichi fucks him but im tired of writing smut tbh. Like i need inspo. But if u didnt notice daichis hand was bloodied bc he did sumth to the harassers which is why theres an ambulance in the last part.

Someone requested a sick scenario where reader gets sick and third years feel bad for him but tbh they wouldnt feel bad. Its just more of an excuse to fuck him over and ill give a very SIMPLE drabble for that bc ive delayed this way for too long

[SCENARIOS LOADING...]

(m/n) falls sick and the third years takes good care of him!

[START SCENE]

"Mmhhaa mmngg ahnn!"

(m/n) cried as he clutched onto Asahi's gakuran, his back against the wall and his legs wrapped around the ace's waist. The brunette's cock deep in him as they hid in an isolated bathroom stall, the third year pulling him in before classes were starting.

It was the norm for him. And he thought his body could adjust but he wouldn't notice he was slowly falling apart with how frequent the third years was using him for a quick fuck.

"T-Too fast! Ahn! Mmmn ahn ah ah!" His legs were shaking as Sugawara held his hips as he pounded his ass, the setter biting onto the manager's bare shoulder. The setter had whisked (m/n) away during their lunch break, him pulling the first year into the empty clubroom and bent him over the table to fuck his ass. He laughed when he found out Asahi had gotten to him first.

Daichi rarely took him during school hours or even school grounds for that matter. It was always the other two filling his ass up or suffocating his throat.

(m/n) choked as his head was pushed deeper into Asahi's crotch, his body naked as he sucked and licked at the dick while Sugawara was behind him shotgunning his bottom while grinding onto his naked butt. Saliva and precum was dripping onto the gym closet floor.

Sugawara always hold the keys and he'd use it as an excuse to stay behind, forcing (m/n) to help just for him to push him onto his knees and forced his cock into his mouth.

The manager knew his body wasn't feeling well that day. Seven rounds of sex in 8 hours was a record for him and a threesome in the mix? He went home sick and woke up with a sore throat and a burning fever.

(m/n) didn't go to school and he was glad he got to recover in his own bed but his mother suddenly barged in saying that his friends and his boyfriend were there to see him. The third years had neutral expressions when they entered his room, Sugawara easily conversing with his mother as she left the room, leaving her son alone with the monsters.

"I can't believe you actually got sick. I thought you were faking it so you could avoid me today." Sugawara grinned, sitting on the edge of (m/n)'s bed and placing his hand on the manager's forehead, pulling away and pulling out a fever plaster to paste it on the manager.

"I told you he was sick. He could barely stand when we were walking home and you thought he was faking it? You're scary, Sugawara." Asahi muttered to which the setter snapped back at him and they both argued over who had pushed (m/n) too far on yesterday's events.

Daichi ignored the two as he walked over to the bed, (m/n) could barely open his eyes, his skin hot and his head aching. He felt a hand pulling down his blanket and someone pushing his shirt up. A cold wet palm laid flat on his belly. The (h/c) squirmed but embraced the cool, his chest heaved up and down with slow breaths.

"Get better. Soon." The captain ordered. His dark eyes staring blankly at the manager. Sugawara turned to (m/n) and placed a kiss on his cheek. "You heard the captain." "Make sure to stay away from Suga."

The setter continued to yell at the ace, moving off of the bed and Daichi took the opportunity to take his place, his eyes now locking with (e/c) as he brushed his hand against (m/n)'s cheek fondly. "...I'll take care of you. I said I would." The ravenette muttered, the hand he had washed earlier trailing from his stomach to his chest, his hand under (m/n)'s shirt.

Daichi would only take him in his bed, in his room at nights after practice. Now, he was sick and laying in said bed with the captain looming over him, his eyes scanning his weak features.

(m/n) couldn't do a thing, letting the third year care for his sick body. They would come over after practice bringing homecooked meals they would make at Daichi's house. Sugawara often cleaned his body, using a wet towel to cool his warm limbs or helping him into his shower where he would- this made the manager's mom became more fond of the third years, letting them into her son's room at any time she was especially too busy to check in on her precious child.

The manager knew they were some sick fucks but he didn't expect them to go that far truly. Sometimes they would grope him, offering a quickie while mocking him by bouncing the (h/c) on their lap but Daichi was quick to stop them, especially Sugawara who was a bit too happy that (m/n) was weak in his hands, too frail to push away.

Asahi didn't do much, only going through the (h/c)'s belongings, digging through photo albums and taking some of his more personal article of clothings. Stupid pervert. He didn't even bother hiding it too. Daichi would force them to leave when it was almost midnight, him staying over and sleeping on a spare futon.

He was so attentive to the (h/c)'s needs, making sure he took his medicine and eating the required nutrition he needed. He kept his promise and (m/n) was able to recover in three days, returning to school after being deemed well enough by the captain.

Oddly enough, Sugawara and Asahi didn't pounce on him the second they met. Only ruffling his hair or hugging him and saying they were glad to see him well before leaving him alone. (m/n) thought that they finally got their senses knocked into them.

Until night arrived and (m/n)'s mother made a fatal decision to allow Daichi to check her son for another time.

"D-Daichi! I c-can't- urmff! Mmngghaa- ackk!" One of his legs were being held up as he laid on his side, his mouth full with fingers and his hole throbbing around the thick dick shoved inside him. The ravenette slowly rolled his hips, feeling (m/n) tighten around him as the manager shot cum from his penis onto the bedsheets.

He loved when the (h/c) would come on his cock, fluttering walls around his base was pleasure as he quickly thrusted into the overstimulated first year, (m/n) drooling and choking on Daichi's coarse fingers.

"Three days. You have three days to compensate." Rounds of sex to reimburse the captain. Not for the care he provided. It was just more of a reason for Daichi to fill his hole and he had warned the other two not to approach him, wanting to have his ass all to himself for the next few days.

(m/n) let the captain use his hole, his body to fulfill his lust. He wasn't sick any longer and Daichi had promised to take care of him. He could only hope the ravenette doesn't have any plans to stay around him for the long-term. Excluding the fact that they were neighbours.

[END SCENE]

I just love daichi so much rahhh. Going to see the movie next week. Remember this is the last one for karasuno so dont request for this team any longer lovies💋 If karasuno was intense just imagine the power play with shiratorizawa MUAHAHAHHAHA

[cressidagrey]

Lightning in a Bottle - Chapter 3

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

Stabbing, Azriel unalives somebody that really had it coming, Death by being put on fire

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

*If you keep glaring at Keir like that we are never getting anywhere,* Rhys said into his mind, some amusement bleeding into his voice. 

*I think he’s trying to waste your time on purpose,* Azriel responded with a scowl. 

 The shadows hadn’t picked up anything out of the usual…but that didn’t mean anything…even Keir could manage to hide something if he really wanted to…and he did want to, Azriel thought. 

He wasn’t sure yet what…but there was something. There must be something. 

This meeting was utterly useless, was slowly turning into needless sniping at each other and Azriel didn’t like it…it felt like Keir was just trying to keep them in place for longer. 

The question was just for what? 

It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up like a cat…the feeling that something…something was…not quite right, that he couldn't put his finger on…

He hated that feeling. Azriel much preferred it, when he got all the facts… when he could make plans and plans for his plans…

But he couldn’t…and he was still stuck with being in the Hewn City and not in Velaris.

*Cassian is thinking the same,* Rhys responded with a sigh. *We’ll give it another hour. Don’t worry, we'll be back in Velaris soon enough,* he teased Azriel lightly. Rhys must have caught one of his thoughts. *Give Feyre some time and then you can go get your girl.*

An easy promise given. 

*Not my girl,* Azriel gave back immediately. *Not yet. Not…* Not until she wanted to be. Not until she knew the truth and…

*She won’t turn you down, Az,* Rhys said quietly, sussing out what was really bothering him immediately. 

But what if she did? Eira had every reason in the book to turn him down. Starting with his ill-thought-out pursuit of her actual twin sister to the simple fact of who he was…

She had every reason to tell him to fuck off to the continent because she never wanted to see him again. Granted, he highly doubted she would do that…he had never heard as much as a curse word out of her mouth. 

She had been raised as the daughter of a wealthy merchant, and clearly, that’s how she carried herself, even after everything had happened. 

At least she had clung to that bit of her human life.

*She has every reason to,* Azriel disagreed quietly.  Every reason to turn him down. Regardless of what he wished for…every reason not to be interested. 

What if she wanted to cling to even more of her human life? If the wings that he sprouted from his back were a step too far for her…if the scars that marred his hands were…

Or what if she simply didn’t want him? That would be a valid choice too and he would accept that. 

Of course, he would. 

He never wanted to force her into anything that she didn’t want. 

So what if she hated him? 

*She won't and she doesn't,* Rhys disagreed sharply. *Azriel, Mor was right,” his brother told him pointedly. “Eira has been having a crush on you for years. She’ll probably be ecstatic and immediately start planning your wedding…Maybe Elain can lend her all her wedding binders,” Rhys teased him. 

He bit back a smile at that. Maybe…maybe… He wished for that. He wished that would be…

Whatever she wanted. She wanted a big wedding? He would suffer through that, just for the chance of seeing her happy. Just for her smiling at him…not as painfully polite as she had been last evening but bright and happy and unbridled…He wanted to see that. 

He wanted to see all of that. 

But he pushed that thought away.  

*I am intrigued and terrified by what is actually in these binders,* Azriel admitted drily. *Even you didn’t have that many when you were planning Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony.*

*Helion is overcompensating,* Rhys quipped, though they both knew that it probably was the truth. 

After everything had gone down in Autumn, ending with a dead Beron, High Lord Eris and Lucien Vanserra officially becoming Lucien Spell-Cleaver…well.

*I owe you an apology,* Rhys said at that moment, and Azriel stared at his brother, who was listening to Keir with a bored expression on his face. *I did only want…the best for you that solstice but how I went around it…that wasn’t particularly nice to you.*

*Actually I owe you my gratitude,* Azriel said drily. *I didn’t want to hear it then…but I was…I wasn’t in love with Elain. I was…infatuated,* he admitted. *I was jealous of you and Cassian and that…that clouded my judgement. It could have ended very badly if you didn’t intervene.*

Very badly. A Blood Duel would have been their smallest problem then. 

*It could have,* Rhys agreed. *That’s why I interfered in the first place…But I still hurt you in that moment, and I wish I hadn’t.*

*If I keep behaving like an idiot you have my full permission to call me out on it,* Azriel gave back with a sigh. 

*Then stop thinking like you don’t deserve her,* Rhys said with a mental eye roll. 

*Sure, I’ll stop once you stop thinking the same about Feyre,* he shot back. Rhys would have retorted, but he was beaten to it. 

The shadows came suddenly, in a frenzy whispering in his ear, voices hurried and panicking: Master, Master you need to come NOW!

*What’s wrong?* Rhys demanded, just as that dormant bond in his chest was flooded with pure, undiluted terror.  

The Princeling and our Mate! 

*Eira and Nyx,* he choked out. The shadows already grasped him, before Rhys’ mental order could fully reach him.  

*GO!*

They dragged him out of Hewn City, into Velaris.

The ground he hit was scorched. 

That was the first thing he realised. 

Magic crackled in the air, thick and furious, untrained and uncontrolled…that was the second. 

Nyx had one specific playground he loved…one where Azriel knew members of their family often brought him to…with swings that he adored…

It was a place of happiness…of children laughing…of Velaris at its best…

Now…now it was a scorched wasteland. 

The swings? Gone. The smell of burning human flesh in the air, making his stomach twist, eyes tracking over the carnage. 

At least two dead…difficult to say because their bodies were burned…beyond recognition.

One more dead…mouth open in a silent scream…  One…one male held by his shadows, bearing him down onto the ground…and then, right in the middle of that carnage… in a heap on the ground…

The high-pitched crying of Nyx reached his ears, covered by the unmoving body of Eira. 

Azriel had thought that panic had been burned out of him centuries ago. He was taught something better that morning. Because it was panic that flooded his veins. Panic and Terror and…a thousand other things. 

*I need Mor! And Madja!* he snapped along the mental connection to Rhys, already hurling for both of them…sliding onto his knees as he so very carefully touched Eira’s body, feeling the delicate bones underneath his fingertips, a near unseen tremble, the smell of acrid blood clinging to her, layering over her scent. 

She had always smelled like snowdrops to him. Snowdrops and almonds and a crackling hearth. 

Now the blood…the blood…He turned her around, getting no reaction, finding Nyx safe and sound tucked underneath her, crying, his little face red and splotchy as he sobbed. 

*AZRIEL!?* Rhys demanded. 

*Nyx is fine. Not a scratch.* 

All he managed…as he finally saw the scarlet red dripping down onto Nyx…smeared all over him…and then he saw the handle of that dagger protruding from Eira’s limp form. 

Blood. Her blood. 

“Ra! Ra! Ra!” Nyx gargled, just as he finally managed to slap a patch of his killing power around that knife, keeping it steady. He didn’t pull it out, knowing that that could kill her…even when the blood that oozed out around it was starkly black in places…and he could smell the scent of…something burning in the back of his throat. 

Poison. That knife had been poisoned. 

A curse left his mouth at that. 

That wasn't good. That was everything but good. 

*Eira?* Rhys demanded at that moment. 

*Stabbed.*

The connection went silent, just as the booming sound of Morrigan winnowing went in beside him. 

“Az?”

“She needs Madja. Now,” he bit out. “Take them both.”

Safe. Safe. 

He needed her safe. And then he needed…

He leaned down, picking up one limp hand and pressing a kiss against it, her skin clammy and grey…even when he could feel her pulse thrumming underneath the thin skin on the back of her wrist... He breathed in snowdrops and almonds and sweetness...and then let go, because if he didn't...he never would. He would lie right down next to her, waiting for his demise. 

He grasped Truthteller without even thinking about it, as he stalked across the ground towards the one sole survivor. The shadows jerked him up, and Azriel grabbed hold of his throat. 

“What. Did. You. Do?!” he growled. What had they done to Eira?  To his mate?

“I…we…just the Prince…Grab the Prince. No matter the cost,” the male garbled out, the acrid smell of urine hitting his nostrils and only now Azriel took in the black uniform. 

Darkbringer. 

Court of Nightmares. Keir. 

Suddenly… it all made sense. It came together. The secret Keir had been keeping. It was so clear now. 

“Who hired you?!” Azriel spat out, wanting a verbal answer before…before... 

“The Steward!” 

And that’s all he needed to hear, before he drove Truthteller into him, into the exact same place where they had stabbed Eira…not immediately killing him, but seeing his eyes widen, seeing the realisation set in….the pained scream escaping him. 

“She’s mine,” Azriel whispered. “Mine. And you hurt her. You hunted her.” Like a game. Like an animal. 

She was his. His mate. 

And Azriel hadn’t been there to protect her.  He hadn’t been there for any of this…

“Lightning,” the male choked, blood bubbling on his lips. *She…killed…lightning.”

He didn't care what the male told him. It didn't matter. None of this mattered. 

The only thing that mattered was her. 

He watched as the light dimmed in his eyes, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction that he at least had gotten to do this. At least…

*It was Keir,* Rhys said into his mind, his voice deathly quiet.  *He…He ordered…*

*He wanted Nyx,*  Azriel agreed, pulling Truthteller out of the body, letting the male fall to the ground, wiping the blade on his trousers. 

*How many did you kill?* Rhys asked. No judgment. He could have slaughtered three dozen and Rhys wouldn’t have cared at that moment. 

*One.*

He could feel Rhys’ surprise. Then: *He said he sent 4.*

*Two were burned beyond recognition,* Azriel explained. *Another is dead, but still recognisable. I do not know how he died. The whole ground is charred. Scorched.*

A second later…Rhys and Cassian appeared, winnowing in from Hewn City. He imagined that Feyre had gone straight to their son.  Cassian took one look around at the ground, the carnage…the…

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Mor took Nyx and Eira?” he asked and Azriel forced a nod, feeling for that golden thread bound around his rib…wished he would get something, anything from her…

“She shielded him with her body,” he said nearly tonelessly. “He was smeared in her blood because she shielded him.”

Even stabbed, even feeling like she was going to die…Eira had done everything to shield her nephew. Had used her own body to keep him safe. Had protected him with her life. 

Azriel had never doubted that she loved him…but it still…she must not have even hesitated. Just done it.

She was a slip of a girl, with no combat training…and she had faced four of the Court of Nightmare's most elite soldiers and laid down her life if that meant that Nyx would be safe. 

He had seen grown Illyrian Warriors that would have tucked tails and run in this situation. 

Outnumbered…Outpowered. And still, she had stood her ground. 

“What happened here?” Cassian asked as he checked the other recognisable body. 

“They must have surprised her,” Rhys said, his voice shaking. “She thought they were safe. We thought they were safe…”

And they hadn’t been. They hadn’t been safe. 

At all. 

Death had been brought right to their doorstep in Velaris. 

“How did he die?” Rhys demanded from Cassian. 

“He was struck by lightning,” Cassian responded drily. “I have seen this before…on a cow though. It would also explain the scorched ground. If lightning hits the ground, it makes a pattern like that.”

What?

Lightning?

He looked up to the sky. It was a beautiful summer’s day. Not a trace of a storm…anywhere. 

“Do you think it was Nyx?” Cassian asked quietly but Rhys shook his head. 

“I have never seen anybody channel lightning,” Rhys answered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Never. I…” Neither had Azriel.  “He’s too young to channel magic like that.”

But was he? In a situation like that? When he had just tried to protect Eira? and himself? Maybe even at 1-year-old Nyx had recognised what…what would happen if he didn’t protect himself. Maybe it had been pure instinct on his part…Maybe he had seen Eira fall and that had been…

Eira. 

He reached for that bond again, feeling it tremble and he hung onto it with all his might, clenching his teeth. 

He…

He had failed her, hadn’t he? It should have never come that far. It should have never…It should have never…

Azriel should have been the one taking that knife to the chest, not her. 

“Clearly not,” Cassian disagreed with a snort. “He’s your son,” Cassian pointed out drily. “He’s Feyre’s son…who knows what he has inherited from her.”

Rhys stayed rooted in one spot, blinking once. 

“Rhys?” Cassian asked immediately. 

“Get Nesta,” he ordered Cassian. “We are needed at the River House.” And then after a second that felt like eternity…“It’s not…It’s not looking good.”

And with one sentence…everything crumbled. 

[jamespottersdaisy]

Sweet Nothing

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more."

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it.

based on a request

content- fluff, sickness, hurt/comfort?, established relationship.

3.2k

author's note- this is actually several blurbs put into one fic, no use of y/n, english is not my first language so beware <3

You feel a hand on your lower back, guiding you through the throng in the Quidditch Pitch to the castle. Raising your head, your eyes catch Remus's soft but rapt expression. His eyebrows are furrowed, his eyes opting for the best way to get you from the packed crowd with the least malaise.

You don't bother to speak; most probably, he won't hear you. Hell, you don't even hear your own thoughts in all this ruckus. However, you would always hear his calm and tender tone.

"This way, dove."

You let your body comply with his hand on your back.

"You guys are a menace," your disapproving timbre curls up his lips into a subtle smile, one that he tries to hide from you. "And I don't believe for a second that you had nothing to do with this."

He chuckles, his brown eyes catching yours for a moment. "I was with you the whole time, wasn't I?"

"They're not brilliant enough to think of a way of hexing the whole–" Your words are cut off when Remus pulls you to his right. You stumble from the sudden shove, feeling his tight grip on your arms.

You see a group of brooms whooshing from where you were standing only seconds before. "What are they doing?"

"Bastards," Remus mutters, agitated that they almost knocked you out.

"Your fault. You shouldn't have given them a reason to celebrate."

You know you are wrong; of course, the Gryffindor players would celebrate with or without the Marauder's prank on the opposite team. However, a little compunction wouldn't hurt. 

"It's not my fault that I'm a mastermind," Remus grins, pulling you closer by the waist. You can hear the cheerful shouts and music from afar, knowing that James is probably capering around, frisking on Sirius or Peter. 

"Should we go and celebrate with them?" you ask Remus, even though you despise the hubbub, everyone pushing and pulling others, stumbling to one another, hurting each other's toes. Who needs that? You can very well express your cheers in the common room celebrations. And Remus knows you well enough.

"No, we'll see them in the common room," he says, holding your hand tightly. "Are you hungry?"

"We just ate."

"Do you want snacks? I can get some from the kitchens if you do."

You chuckle at his tone, so soft but also pampering you. "Are you hungry? You certainly sound like you want something to eat."

"You?"

"Remus!" you elbow him, blush painting your cheeks. He laughs, a sound that manages to flutter chords in your heart no matter how many times you hear it. He brings your hand–which is entangled between his fingers– to his lips and places a tender peck on it.

"I'll bring you some chocolate from the kitchens."

That is how you know he craves chocolate.

"You two should break up."

"Come again?"

"I said, break up for a day, you're making Prongs sad," Sirius repeats shamelessly at you, going through a cookie bowl.

Remus is ambling down the stairs with a book in his hand. A book which he uses to smack Sirius on the head. He winces, scowling at your boyfriend.

"Prongs being sad is none of our business."

You let Remus sit on the sofa and put your head on his lap. Under a mere second, another hand, belonging to James, plunges into the bowl. 

"No matter what I do, Evans won't go out with me on Valentine's Day," he continues to inspect every cookie meticulously, looking for the right one. Your heart aches at the sight, and you decide that enough is enough. You snatch the bowl under his hand and lay back on Remus's lap with the cookies on your stomach. Remus smiles at the sight of you, his hand roaming through your hair.

"Stop sampling the cookies with your filthy fingers."

"They're my only comfort. Give them back," James attacks, ready to grab the bowl back, but Remus's hands stop him. He playfully swats James's hand away from the bowl. 

"She's eating them."

You grin at James, visibly smug about your boyfriend's demeanour. "I am eating them, Potter."

"You haven't touched them since Peter brought them from the kitchens."

"I will eat them, Potter."

You don't comprehend what happens next, or you simply don't remember. Maybe James groans and leaves your side, or Sirius starts teasing you again. Who knows? You just feel Remus's fingers tousling between strands of your hair. 

"What are you doing?" you whisper, a tiny smile adorning your lips.

"Braiding your hair," he drawls, his eyes glancing at your lips before averting back to your hair. 

"You know how to braid?"

Remus chuckles, shaking his head. "No, but I'm learning right now."

"By ruffling my hair?"

"I'm not ruffling, dove. I'm braiding."

"No, you're definitely ruffling. I can feel it."

"I'll comb them later tonight. Sounds good?" you smirk at his raised eyebrows, hearing your heart singing. Moments like this are what soothe your worries and take away the weight on your shoulders for that week. His quiet whispers and tender touch, adoring tone and smiling eyes always manage to find their path to your heart, warming it in an instant.

"Will you also bring me milk and kiss me goodnight?"

He smiles, bringing one hand to your chin. His thumb caresses the skin and journeys to your lips.

"If that's what you want."

You roll your eyes at him, taking his hand from your face in your hand. You start to fiddle with his fingers, oblivious of the beam in his countenance. You love playing with Remus's hand. They are larger than yours, as Remus enjoys pointing out with every chance he gets, but also so soft. 

Your eyes forcefully move from your intertwined hands to Remus's brown eyes. In a few seconds, your mind feels his finger resting under your chin. You gaze at him with confusion and affection as he leans in and puts his lips before yours. He doesn't kiss you, merely placing his lips inches away from yours. You know he is waiting for you. 

You smile for a moment, your warm breath hitting his lips. You know it puts him on the edge when you josh him, his breathing getting heavier, the black in his eyes widening.

But you relish it more than anything.

"Don't tease, dove," he whispers, and you can feel the anticipation in his tone.

You giggle, your smile growing against his, your fingers running through the hair on his neck. You don't torture him any more, crashing your lips to his. You let out an amused breath when you feel Remus return the kiss in a second, his hands wandering your body.

No matter how long you've been together or how many times he has kissed your lips, it is the same feeling every time. The burn in your core, the desire for more and the joy of his touch. You are too familiar with all these sensations, and yet you welcome them every time with a smile on your face.

"Get a room!"

You are familiar with Sirius's shriek, too.

Your throat burns with pain, your nose itching with an urge to sneeze, which never comes. You know for sure that you look terrible in your bed, with dishevelled hair, a red nose and swollen eyes. However, all this doesn't seem to phase Remus even a bit. 

"You're a mule."

He is annoyed and maybe slightly worried. His eyebrows are furrowed, and displeasure has gained a seat on his visage. He is staring at you with irritated eyes and a scowl beside your bed.

"And you're rude," you say, barely managing to raise your voice from a whisper. It's not your fault that your throat hurts when you talk.

"Dove, let's just go to Madam Pomfrey."

"For a cold?"

Remus groans, sitting next to you. He puts one hand on your right thigh before speaking again.

"You'll have a fever if you keep up like this."

"I'm fine, stop worrying," you say, even though you're happy that he does.

You're happy that he worries for you and cares for you. You're happy that he never leaves your side or your hand. You're happy that even though he rarely uses the words, he still manages to tell you he loves you with actions.

You don't need to hear it. You never need to hear it; Remus makes sure that you can feel it.

"You know I can't do that," he shakes his head, persistent with his efforts. "And you know I can't take care of you all by myself."

You chuckle at his words. For the last seven hours, he's been bringing you warm soup, making sure you're hydrated enough, and he hasn't let you stand up for even a second.

"You've done well so far," you smile despite the ache in your temples. "Remus, it's just cold. I'll be fine in the morning, especially with your pampering."

You don't see the point in visiting the hospital wing for a seasonal cold; it seems like overreacting. Remus, on the other hand, seems distraught seeing you in pain. He doesn't want to agree; you can see it on his face, but he agrees anyway. 

"It would help if you took a warm shower, you know."

You smile at him, knowing damn well that he wouldn't let you get on your feet without his help.

"Maybe."

Remus nods several times, immediately rising to his feet. "I'll run a shower for you."

You watch him sprint to the bathroom, and the next thing you hear is the water running. You are lucky that your roommates are not in your dorm room today. Or maybe you're unlucky that you got sick on Saturday.

You slowly start getting out of bed, your head throbbing. Remus comes back and helps you get to the bathroom. In reality, he merely follows you from place to place, as you're perfectly capable of walking. 

"You're acting like I'm a toddler," you laugh at his concern, which earns you a frown. 

"You are a toddler. Why else would you refuse to go to the hospital wing?"

"Because I'm fine," you grin, getting out of your clothes. Remus watches you, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed. "If you're waiting for me to ask you to join me, I'm not gonna do that."

He smirks at your tone, pushing himself off the doorframe. "I'll be there if you need me."

He leaves you alone, and you let hot water embrace your bare skin. By the end of the shower, you feel lighter and better, happy that your headache has eased a bit.

Remus waits for you in the room, and you notice that he has brought you another soup. 

"How many times do I have to drink that?" 

"Enough times for you to get better," he pushes the blanket on top of you when you lay down on the bed. "Cooperate a bit."

He takes the soup bowl in his hand and lifts the spoon. You grimace at the steam rising from the spoon.

"I'd rather not drink–"

"Open wide, the train is coming," he pushes the spoon to your lips.

"Remus!" you pull your head backwards, laughing involuntarily. "It's hot!"

"You haven't even tasted it."

"I can see from the steam."

"Fine," he groans, huffing at the spoon. "It's good now, come on."

Now that you're out of the excuses, you comply with him. Still, you pull a face when your tongue meets with the soup, albeit it is delicious. 

"It can't be that disgusting, dove."

"It is," you lie when Remus offers you another spoon, a bit of liquid dripping from your lips to your chin. 

"Let me see," he says, and before you can deny it, his lips are already on yours. 

You let out a disapproving sound from deep in your throat, even though your stomach tingles at the feeling of Remus's soft lips on yours. He pulls back an inch, but still close enough for you to feel his warm breath. 

"It was delicious," he mocks. "Liar."

"You're gonna be sick, baby," you whisper, your lips smiling a bit. 

He kisses you again, this time quicker and shorter than before. "You'll take care of me."

And you will take care of him the next morning because he definitely will be sick.

You don't feel your legs, nor do you remember how you got to the castle yard. You're in a trance, unable to hear or feel anything as you stride to a distant tree that will provide you solidarity. Anything except the suffocating weight in your lungs and the burning urge in your throat. You want to cry. You want to drop to your knees and wail, letting tears pour down your eyes, allowing the agony to leave your heart with your every cry.

But you don't cry.

You don't cry until you know you are alone. You don't cry until you are sure that no one can see you, no one can hear you. You don't cry until you are sure that you are out of everyone's sight who will pity you if they see your tears.

It feels too much. You feel too much. You feel too much, but you don't feel enough. You never feel enough. 

You run, but you never flee. You swim, but you drown. You smile, but you cry.

The moment you see the tree, your legs give in. You fall to the ground, a cry leaving your lips. You don't scream, you don't wail. You simply welcome the tears as you sit on the ground, pulling your knees to yourself.

Your mind echoes each and every word that pulls you too deep into the ocean.

"I expected more from you."

You thought you did enough.

"It's your fault."

You thought you did the right thing.

"You'll do better next time."

You thought you did better this time.

You hear your pained sob, pitying yourself. Your nails dig into your skin hard enough to leave a mark. You want to leave a mark. You want to feel something, something other than the pain burning inside your chest. 

"Dove?"

You whine at your lover's voice, so soft and tender, afraid to startle you. You don't question how he has found you. Somehow he always does.

"Go away, Remus," your tone sounds weaker than you expect, full of agony and desperation. You don't look at his face; you don't look anywhere but your hands. 

You don't want him to see your red eyes, tear-stained face and shaking hands. You don't want him to hear your heavy sobs and breathless cries. You don't want him to pity you.

"No," he sits next to you, still a bit hesitant to touch you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Go away," you cry, "please."

"I am not going anywhere, dove," he shakes his head, his eyes glancing at your hands. He knows it may backfire, and he knows you may draw up your walls even higher, but he takes the risk. He puts his hand on yours, parting your nails from your skin. 

You scrunch up your face when he kisses the skin where your nails dig deep, ready to burst into tears once more. You lower your head, refusing to let him see your pain. 

He doesn't let you. 

"Talk to me," he pleads, holding your hand close to him. "I hate seeing you cry."

Of course, he does, you think. Why would anyone want to put up with your bawling? Why would anyone want to put up with you?

You can feel the hatred poisoning your veins, darkening the light in your heart. You know this hatred, this darkness. You know who it is aimed at. You are too familiar with its burn. You know it is going to mock your weakness and insult your very being because you know you feel that hatred for none other than yourself.

When you talk, you want to drown your voice just to never hear it again.

"I'm sorry."

You don't see Remus's confused face. You don't feel his bafflement. You only hear his loving pitying tone.

"For what?" he asks and doesn't wait for your reply. "Dove, come here."

You despise your body for betraying your mind. You abhor your heart for betraying your will. You hate your frailty when it comes to Remus.

You let him hold you close to his chest, sobbing into his touch. His hands caress your hair, his lips leaving kisses on your temple as comfort. Your body trembles under his affection, the tears staining his shirt. 

"It's alright. You're alright," his tone hugs the scarred part of your soul. "I'm here."

"I'm sorry, Remus, I'm sorry–"

"What for, dove? You have nothing to be sorry about," he cuts you off, feeling that you're spiralling. "Tell me what's wrong. Tell me, we'll fix it together, yeah?"

You shake your head, clinging closer to his chest. This is the part you hate most. The part where the words line up against your tongue but don't know how to get out. Your feelings mock you, and you're afraid that if you talk, he will mock you, too.

Remus knows you. He has learned you well enough to know that you are struggling. He strokes your back, encouraging you to speak. 

"Come on, dove. You'll feel better," he kisses your hair.

"No, I- It's not.." you mumble something between your sobs, and Remus tries so hard to understand you. He waits, patiently giving you the time you need to organise your thoughts, all while embracing you tightly. 

"It's alright. Take your time."

You inhale a deep but shaky breath, your chest trembling from all the hiccups. You wish to speak, to share your pain with your lover, but it's just too heavy. So heavy that letters are like a burden to your tongue. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you don't know you're crying again until you feel teardrops on your hand. "I can't. This is it. This is all I got. It's not enough, I'm not enough."

"Hey, hey, hey," Remus pulls away, taking your face in his hands. "You're more than enough."

"No, no, I-I can't…I can't do better. I need to do better, I have to do better–"

Remus doesn't understand what you're talking about; your words don't make sense to him. All he knows is that your every tear is like a knife to his heart, your every sob is like a hit in the gut, and your every word is like a storm hitting his mind.

"You don't have to do anything. You're doing enough," he says, his heart clenching in pain at the sight of you. "Listen to me."

He puts his forehead on yours, closing his eyes. "Listen to me, dove."

He waits for you. He waits until your breathing calms down, your tears slow down, and your body stops shaking. You close your eyes, inhaling his scent.

"You're enough for me," he whispers, his hands still caressing your body. "I love you, and you're enough for me."

You feel the burn in your chest at ease, the burden in your tongue walking away. You feel your tears come to a halt, your soul finding comfort in his words. 

"I love you, too," you whisper back. 

"Then talk to me, and let me help you."

So, you talk. You tell him every word in your mind, every pain in your heart and every burden in your soul. You know he can't possibly solve all your problems or take away all your pain, but what he can do is always let you know he loves you, whether with his words or his actions.

I love Remus, I wish men were real.

Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think!

and if you please, buy me a coffee <333

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I feel like I owe Kim Possible a minor apology. In a recent post, I used Kim and Ron's romance as an example of how the love square should have been written. I've also talked about how Ron's the perfect example of a male comedy sidekick who is more than just a comedy sidekick because he's treated as Kim's perfect partner. I've probably mentioned Kim Possible other times, too, because it's such a good match for what Miraculous is trying to do.

Because I keep singing Kim Possible's praises I decided that I should rewatch the show to make sure that my nostalgia goggles weren't blinding me to some major flaw. So far, they weren't. If anything, I've been underselling the show. This is where we get to that apology I mentioned at the start.

Prior to this rewatch, I would have told you that Ron's importance wasn't really discussed until the later seasons because the first season of a formulaic kids show is almost always a testing grounds to see what works, so things can be a little rough. Plus Ron's importance isn't exactly something that you need to dive into early on when you've got a two person team. No one is questioning Ron's importance right out of the gate. He's there to be the comedy sidekick. No explanation needed.

Imagine my surprise when the plot of episode six is all about Kim and Ron getting into a fight about Ron excelling at their part time job while Kim kinda sucks, leading to Kim going to fight alone while Ron keeps working. Kim fails, Ron gets a call that she's in trouble, and:

Wade: Not important. Kim's in trouble. She found Drakken at inside giant Cheese Wheel but I lost contact. She needs help. Your help. Ned: Well, well, well. Looks like you've got a choice to make, Stoppable! What's more important? Your sacred duty as assistant manager or your role as goofy sidekick? Ron: Well, that's no choice at all. I guess it's time to say buenos noches, Bueno Nacho.

Dude doesn't even hesitate. Doesn't matter if they're fighting or if he's feeling underappreciated, Kim needs his help? He's there. Their fight can wait until after Kim is safe. This is why I love Ron. Total dork, but you can't ask for a better partner.

Ron's rescue attempt initially goes south, but instead of getting mad, we get this genuinely sweet moment:

Ron: Guess that wasn't much of a plan. Kim: Not as great as your Bueno Nacho bathroom-break chart. Ron: I gooned on assistant-manager power. You were right. Kim: I did resent your superior burrito technique. You're entitled to excel. Forgive me? Ron: Duh! Forgive me? Kim: Totally.

Boy do I love these two! Their friendship was so genuine right from the start. This whole episode is just oozing how much they care for each other, it's great!

After this moment, they save the day with Ron playing a big part in Kim's plan because right from season one, season one, the writers understood that Kim could never be shown to win when Ron wasn't around.

As you may have guessed from the cheese wheel line, the plot of this episode is pretty absurd even for Kim Possible. That's been the case for all of the early episodes, but I think that the plots are going to improve as the seasons go on because I remember the later seasons having much stronger plots. We'll see if that proves true. Even if the plots stay kinda weak, I've still gotta give full credit to the writers for their early character work. They really understood Kim and Ron's relationship right from the start, didn't they? And in a show like this, that's the most important element to get right.

Don't worry, I'm not going to flood your dash with Kim Possible love, I just had to take a moment to appreciate how good the character work was here. They really did want Ron to feel like more than Kim's goofy sidekick and they pulled it off while sticking to the show's absurd writing and formulaic structure. As Miraculous has shown, that isn't something that just naturally happens. It takes effort, so I had to take a moment to gush because I don't get to gush about good character work often while running this blog. I hope this also makes it clear that, when it comes to writing, I'm not looking for perfection. I'm just looking for a good time. So far, that's what this rewatch is giving me.

[elliaze]

Taste of desire

Parring: Jake Lockley x fem!reader, mentioned Steven Grant x fem!reader and Marc Spector x fem!reader (but in like one sentence only, so it's mainly Jake x reder)

Warnings: smut, rough sex, creampie, sex in public place, both Jake and reader are crazy about each other, but they are so in love, this is my first time writing a smut so probably this is also a warning

Summary: Y/N and Jake are in the club.

Words Count: 1400

MASTERLST

Evening’s with Jake had their regular moments. First he would take you to your favourite restaurant, then you would end up at a nearby club to unwind after a long day. Mostly it ended with one or two drinks and a few dances, but you noticed that tonight was going to be different. 

“What are you doing?” You asked curiously, glancing at Jake. 

He was sitting next to you, sprawled out on a couch in one of the boxes you had managed to occupy. Jake put his hand on your uncovered knee and there would have been nothing strange about that, as he had held it almost all this time, showing that you were taken. This time, however, his hand slowly headed up the inside of your thigh, making you shiver. 

“ I have no idea what you're talking about, hermosa.” 

You rolled your eyes. Sometimes you forget what a cunning bastard Jake could be. Lockley actually acted as if he didn't know what was going on and was quietly drinking his whisky. You knew him too well and knew that it was just his game, which he mostly won, because at the end of the day you would let him do anything he likes to do to you. Just like now, when you felt getting hot at the thought of what state he could bring you to again. 

“Jake” you said his name with warning as you felt his hand travel higher. You quickly grabbed his wrist, stopping him between your legs, but you still managed to feel the heat coming from him. Something tightened in your stomach at the fact that he was only inches away from touching you where you needed it. You looked around to see if anyone had noticed that his hand was under your skirt, and you breathed a sigh of relief when you noticed that everyone was busy with their own. “We're in a public place. This is not funny.”

Lockley tsked in satisfaction. He slid his hand out from under your skirt and for a moment you hoped you might have talked some sense into him, but then he grabbed you around the waist and moved into his lap. He put his hands on your hips, not letting you move anywhere. There was a devious smile on his face, and you could see that dangerous glint in his dark eyes. Jake leaned over you and placed a hot kiss on your neck. As hard as you wanted to fight it, you couldn't ignore the fact that this alone made you feel yourself getting wet. You moaned softly and tightened your fingers on his shoulders. You knew by now that you were at a loss.

“Fuck you, Lockley,” you whispered directly into his mouth, moving your hips back and forth. Jake was unpredictable, but you weren't going to let him be the only one to torment. He only laughed, as if he had heard the best joke. 

“That's my intention, querida, but only with you. That's why you have two options,” he said, bringing his lips close to your ear. “I can take you right now, right here, where everyone can see us. Or you can be a good girl, and we'll go to the bathroom, because you look too sexy for me to wait until we get home.”

You drew a loud breath as he gently bit the lobe of your ear. You had forgotten about the world around you, and he could actually fulfil the first option. But you still had some sense, and all you could do was clasp his face in your hands, and kiss him hard, showing that you were agreeing to whatever he was thinking about. 

“The bathroom,” you whispered.

Jake set you on the ground and you could feel your legs go weak under you. This was to be the first time he had acted this way towards you in public. He had teased you, and made you blush, but you had always been able to wait until you got home. This time, the journey in the car would be too long, and you needed to feel his touch and kisses on your body.

“That's what I thought,” he spoke up slyly.

Lockley threw his arm over your shoulder and, paying no attention to whether anyone was watching you, led you into the bathroom. As soon as he closed the door, you had the feeling that some wild animal had entered him. He kissed you immediately, and the kiss almost left you breathless. You moaned protractedly as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. He pushed you towards the washbasin against which he leaned you, and you widened your legs, allowing him to stand between them. He was so close to you that you could feel his bulge in his trousers growing larger. 

“I swear you're going to drive me to death one day,” he said between kisses. 

Jake reached one hand up and placed it on your throat, squeezing gently. He didn't hurt you in any way, but it only made you want more. You could feel his familiar touch on your body, which was causing you to lose your mind completely, and that was all that mattered to you. Everything he was doing was not enough for you. You craved more and more. 

“Jake…”

“Don't worry, princesa. I'll make you feel like you're in heaven.” 

You believed him, because he was able to do it every time. Whenever he touched you in this way, you felt like he was discovering some new place that you had no idea of, where his touch could give you such pleasure. Jake sat you down on the sink and pulled your skirt up to your hips. He moved you to the edge of the counter so that your body bent at an unnatural angle, and you moaned into his mouth when you felt his other hand land between your legs. He slipped his fingers under your underwear and as he ran his fingers over your clit, you heard him curse under his breath. 

“I haven't even done anything yet, and already you're wet for me. This is all just for me, isn't it?”

“Just for you,” you said and pushed your hips forward, impatient with the fact that he kept teasing you. “Only for you, Jake.” 

You kissed his neck and slipped your hands under his shirt, immediately directing them to his back. You ran fingernails over his skin, and he growled at the small gesture. 

“That's right, that's my name, baby. And you will be screaming it so that everyone who walks by will hear you and know who's giving you so much pleasure.”

Without warning, Jake slipped two fingers into you at once. You cursed loudly and leaned your head against the mirror behind you. You were breathing heavily, and your chest was rising and falling at an irregular rate. You were on the verge of euphoria, and Lockley only smiled to himself with satisfaction at seeing you in such a state. He leaned over you and, still exploring your delicate insides, began to descend lower and lower with his kisses. He started from a place behind the ear, down your throat and neck, on to your breasts and chest, which were hidden under the material of your dress. He placed a kiss just above your most sensitive spot, until finally he grabbed your underwear and pulled at it. 

All you could hear was the crack of the material, and that sobered you for a moment.

“Did you…just…destroy my underwear?” You asked, struggling to form the words into a question. 

Jake just laughed and lifted his hand, which contained the torn fabric.

“I'll buy you a new and sexier set.” 

“Asshole, how am I supposed to get home now?” 

“No one but us will know you're acting like a pequeña puta.”

You hated being addressed that way. You considered it a completely sexist text and, above all, disrespectful. But when Jake lost his temper and addressed you with these kinds of words... Oh, you knew it only turned you on. You didn't have time to answer him when Jake crouched down and his lips were between your legs.

Lockley was unrelenting. His fingers had driven you mad before, but now, combined with his tongue, they were a pleasurable torment. You slipped your fingers into his hair and clenched them, trying to find something in the way of balance. This was extremely difficult as Jake touched you in ways you could only imagine. Then Jake slid a third finger inside you, and you felt as if something slowly broke inside you. Pain and pleasure were merging together. You felt the pressure in the pit of your stomach becoming more and more unbearable, as if waiting for the right moment to let go. 

“I'm holding you, querida. Just give in. Come for me.”

His words of encouragement made something inside you relax. One minute you could feel the end approaching, and the next the greatest fulfilment had completely taken over you, and you came with his name on the lips. However, Jake did not pull away immediately. He ran his tongue over your sensitive folds once more, and only then did he straighten up. At the same time, he slid his fingers out of you, and when your gazes met, he slowly began to lick them.

“You are so sweet,” he muttered. You smiled blissfully, trying to focus all your attention on him, although it wasn’t that easy. You were shaking all over, and you were glad to be sitting, because you wouldn't have been able to stand on your own feet.

“I have no idea how I'm going to get out of here,” you said, struggling to normalise your breathing. It felt like your heart was about to fall out of your chest, and you felt as if you had run a marathon. “I don't think I can walk.” 

Jake just smiled with satisfaction. Your words had tickled his ego pleasantly. He couldn't take his eyes off you and, in some way inexplicable to him, you were even more beautiful than normal and, above all, he wanted you even more. 

“You don't think I'm done with you, do you?”

You merely said his name, and he used that moment to slip his fingers into your mouth this time. There was something disgusting about it, but at the same time, so sexual that you could feel it starting to work again. If you had somehow managed to normalise your breathing, now you felt it accelerate again, and all you were able to repeat in your mind was his name. Jake grabbed you by the hair and tilted your head back to start kissing your neck and throat. He was doing this extremely aggressively and was finding it increasingly difficult to hold back, especially when he had you in front of him, ready to receive anything he was able to give you.

Jake moved his hands to his trousers, quickly unbuttoning them. 

“Turn around,” he commanded, and a shiver ran through your body. “I need you now.”

You didn't even have a chance to reply as Jake grabbed you by the hips and rolled you over onto your front. He bent you forward for better access and then slid his hands down to your exposed buttocks and slapped one of them. You let out a surprised squeal, but quickly forgot about it as you felt him begin to slowly enter you, giving you a chance to get used to the feeling. 

“Fuck, I always forget…” you began, but were unable to finish when Jake entered you full length. You took a deep breath, and although it wasn't the first time you'd had sex like this, you felt like you were feeling it doubly now. You leaned your head forward, accepting the feeling of fullness that you only felt with him, Marc or Steven. You entwined the fingers on Jake's head. 

Lockley at the same time reached forward and placed his hand on your neck again. He pulled your chin so that your gazes met in the mirror. There was a devious smirk on his lips, but you were too absorbed in what he was doing to care. 

“Forget what?” He began to whisper in your ear, slowly moving inside. “That I'm so big you can barely fit me? Or about the fact that you're always so tight for me, no matter how many times I take you?”

“YES! Yes, yes! Fuck… Jake, please…”

You were in a state where you couldn't string a single sentence together. You didn't even have a clue what exactly you were asking for, but you knew you needed it more, faster. 

“What are you asking me, hermosa?”

Jake brushed your hair away from your face, and leaned over to start kissing your neck. You tightened your fingers in his hair. You pulled at it a tad harder than you had expected, but Jake only growled into your hot skin. 

“Don't stop,” you said with difficulty. “And don't hold back. I know you won't hurt me.” 

It worked on him, like the best spell. Jake clamped his fingers tighter around your throat and you held your breath for a moment. But then Lockley sped up and amplified his movements so that you had no idea where he ended and you began. He moved inside you so sharply and aggressively that you could feel your hips thumping against the sink. You were sure you would have bruises later, but at that moment that was the last thing you worried about. You were thinking about how you would be able to get to the car later, as you knew you wouldn't be able to stand on your own. Jake's action was taking away every ability you had. 

“Can you do this?” Your gazes met again in the mirror. This time, Jake could see the tears gathering in your eyes. You merely nodded her head. “Say it.”

“I can do it,” you repeated after him. “Jake, fuck, I…”

You paused as another moan escaped your lips. Jake moved his hand down over the neckline of your dress until he finally slipped his fingers under the fabric of your bra and squeezed your breasts. You cursed again and leaned your head back, resting it against his shoulder. You closed your eyes at the feeling that slowly wanted to leave your body. Jake ran his thumb over your nipple. 

“Yeah, me too,” he answered slowly, losing the ability to form sentences properly.

Jake sped up even more, and you began to move, mimicking his pace, until you finally came, once again shouting his name, and he did the same literally seconds after you. You were panting and breathing heavily and needed a longer moment to recover from what had happened. When you were finally able to function normally, Jake slid out of you, and you felt his seed running down your legs. You didn't have the strength to do anything about it, but you didn't need to because Lockley quickly took care of you. He washed you thoroughly and then helped you to fix your dress and hair.

“You were so good to me. So beautiful. Let's go home, shall we?”

You nodded her head.

“I love you, mi corazón,” he said.

“I love you too, Jake.” 

You smiled and allowed him to place one hand on the side of your head. You entwined her fingers around his wrist and immediately felt him place a brief and tender kiss on your forehead. Later, supporting you firmly at the waist, you left the bathroom together, and he led you to the car.

[pygmi-cygni]

T Minus Ten

remember that miguel fic I talked about....

here she is!!!!

series warning: eventual smut (light), angst, pining, lovesickness, adorable migs, enemies (?) to lovers, more like emotionally repressed to infatuated, angst, miscommunication, as many tropes as I can possibly manage

warnings for this chapter: lots of exposition, medical inaccuracies, introduction basically, canon violence

miguel o'hara x reader (afab) no description other than reader is v strong and has some small tattoos on hands (important later i swear)

enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

The medical field was essentially obsolete in the Spiderverse. It takes hundreds of years to name a disease, let alone cure it, and then to add in the factors of different biology, different gravitational boundaries, bacterial possibilities....you honestly just felt like hanging up your lab coat and starting an Etsy.

Each branch of the Multiverse was grouped in the extensive medbay located in HQ. The branches with the most similar biology and treatment varieties were closest together. Every spider was given their hall number that had any resources they'd need depending on their genetic makeup.

It was tough work, remembering where everyone was from and the unique characteristics that came with them. Especially when some varieties blurred the lines.

Namely one.

Miguel O'Hara, head of this shit-show and arguably the biggest pain in the ass you'd ever seen, rarely found himself in need of the medical ward's services. Which is probably why nobody thought to figure this problem out.

See, most spider-people were predominantly human. The spider that bit them had only added on to existing capability: extreme strength that improved muscle mass, improved grip on fingers...the only 'inhuman' factor was the webbing.

Miguel had a slightly different build. His DNA had been spliced; like two ropes being braided together. The spider DNA had rebuilt his human DNA, therefore it didn't follow the same pattern in response to medicine or bandages. Which made his medical aversion a little more realistic.

Either way, it didn't matter how much he hated doctors, he couldn't fix a poisoned spear through his chest with an at-home first aid kit.

Eight of HQ's most qualified doctors sat around various scans of the monstrous Spiderman, puzzling through the bizarre data. Your education had been focused on epidemiology, or the spread of disease. Poison wasn't really your thing, but you thought it might be cool to watch.

Dr. Ben Parkinson, the 'head' doctor, was explaining the possible treatments.

"It doesn't seem to be deadly," he reasoned, "but prolonged exposure without medication might have some deteriorating effects." He pointed to a highlighted area of the wound. "See, the muscle tissue is deteriorating, and long-term deterioration could be permanent."

The medical staff shot amused glances at one another, trying to imagine Miguel as anything other than a hulking boulder of muscle.

Ben rolled his eyes and tapped the scans. "Do we have any base vitals for him? Any logged info?"

Maria, his assistant, scrolled on her tablet. "Uhhhh....negative on that. Looks like he hasn't done his immunos either."

You frowned. When HQ had established itself with a medbay, you and the few other nurses had done rounds to make sure any necessary vaccines and medications had been administered. How did we skip him?

"New plan," Ben said slowly, "let's get him up to date and then we'll evaluate. he's relatively stable right now, so let's keep up the current treatment and move from there, yeah?"

He looked at you. "You're the nurse responsible for his wing, right? Do you mind doing his vitals and reporting back?"

You nodded, faltering. What if the spider DNA screwed up his vitals? His resting heartrate was probably higher, and his metabolism had to be insane...the rest of the staff clearly did not share your concern, glad to be rid of the Miguel problem.

Maria handed you her tablet and gave you an apologetic smile. "At least the sedatives will stop him from scratching you," she whispered in your ear.

You shuddered. Here goes nothing.

Miguel was laid out on two beds with the guardrails removed. He couldn't fit on one, so the staff had to quickly improvise. You tried to hum a calming tune, hyperaware of the large claws hanging off the blanket.

Even though he was unconscious, a ripple of fear went through you. He was enormous. If he got mad....you shuddered.

Tenderly, you angled your stethoscope under the mess of tubes feeding into his chest. His skin was unbelievably warm, and you pursed your lips. Definitely feverish. You took his heart rate, tried as gently as you could to do his blood pressure, and measured his blood sugar on the dial near his bed.

Well.

His DNA was definitely strange, because all of his vitals pointed to cardiac arrest and a 104F fever.

"What...the fuck?" He should be dead by those numbers.

You did everything twice more, just to be sure. Still the same. Elevated heart rate, high temperature, and blood pressure that wasn't physically possible.

It confirmed your theory. That meant you had to do a full body scan, analyze the numbers, try to find some kind of pattern....ugh.

His hands were beginning to twitch, and you scurried out of the small room. He'd likely be pissed, waking up in a hospital room with a poisoned stake sticking out of his chest.

Reading through his file, you chewed on your pinky nail. Apparently, a new variant of Green Goblin had been discovered on the fringes of a random universe. It produced a highly acidic venom, the same that had infected the rebar impaling Miguel. The science labs were analyzing the poison, and little info had been found.

Corrosive, acidic, highly destructive on human tissue.

Huh.

Miguel seemed to be holding up okay. Explains the elevated temperature and heart rate. His body was cranking out energy, repairing the damage almost as soon as it occurred.

A grin teased its way onto your face. This was the part of your job that you loved. The puzzle, all the little bits that opened up a bigger picture and eventually, the solution.

You wrote up his chart with your hypothesis and sent it to Dr Ben. Tomorrow would be exciting, to say the least.

-

Exciting was one word for it. Apparently your prediction was correct: Miguel was decidedly not happy with his living situation at the moment. The nurse who'd gone in to give him his IV had dodged a flying chair, and it had escalated from there. Jess had intervened, resorting to an anomaly cage to keep him secure.

After that frazzling morning, Ben was ready for some good news. You were excitedly explaining the deductions you'd found last night, when a small knock came from the office door.

Gwen, one of the newer spiders, shyly poked her head in. Ben went to shoo her away, but you beckoned her in warmly.

Wait a second, you nodded to your boss, and he sat back with a sigh.

The young woman's colored hair hung limp and unwashed. She had been on the backup team to help Miguel and his crew, and the fallout had been hard on her. It was a big mission, especially for a rookie. She was struggling.

"Hi, Gwen, how are you today?" You pulled over a chair, nodding at her to sit. She folded her hands tightly and didn't meet your eyes.

"'M fine," she mumbled, fidgeting with her hoodie. You grabbed the notes you'd taken earlier and a pen.

"...Do...you wanna talk about it? Anything you remember, something we might have missed?"

The room was quiet as you waited. Ben shot you an exasperated look and nodded towards the clock. Not much time.

You sighed and leaned forwards. "it's okay if you don't have anything, Gwen, but we want Miguel to get better, so if you remember-"

"He was glitching," she blurted, cheeks flaming.

You exchanged another glance with Ben.

"He...when the..."she gestured vaguely, "spear thingy went into him, he started glitching. Like, really bad."

That made you stop. "Was...did you see his watch fall off at any point?"

She shook her head sharply. "No. It was like as soon as the venom hit him, he glitched. and it didn't stop until Jess and the guys got there. He was..." she shuddered, and you patted her arm comfortingly.

Though you did technically have spider abilities, you would never in a thousand years want to be fighting. You couldn't imagine dealing with that every day, especially at Gwen's age. You made a mental note to ask the psychiatrist for a check in.

"What were the details of the mission? was there anything specific about the Goblin that made him so strange?" As a member of the med crew, you didn't have access to mission files.

Gwen nodded, wiping her eyes. "Yeah. He was portal jumping like crazy. Miguel was so pissed," she laughed weakly, "he was jumping in circles like a cat."

"Was he glitching?"

"No, he was fine. It was weird...like he somehow belonged to all of the dimensions. We chased him through three different ones before..." A glazed look came over her, and you figured she needed a break.

"Thank you Gwen," you said gently, walking her to the door, "you've been very helpful. Get some rest, honey."

Watching her shuffle down the hall, you puzzled with the information she'd given.

What the fuck was going on?

Ben's serious look confirmed your bewilderment. This was clearly a bigger problem than you anticipated.

"We should give that to the labs," he pointed to your notepad. "They'll wanna know that info."

You nodded wordlessly, handing it over. What did that mean for Miguel? If this Goblin wasn't following the multiverse rules, was there even a possibility of fighting this?

Ben disappeared around the hall as you groaned into your hands. The excitement of the last 36 hours had done a number on you. Despite your heightened energy levels, you still felt sluggish. Flipping to the surveillance footage, you peeked in on your burly patient.

He was laying awake, the sharp spikes on his heart monitor indicating his agitation. His limbs were lightly restrained to keep him from disabling the glowing red net cast over him.

Oddly, you felt bad.

It was hard enough being injured and alone, but he was being treated like a prisoner. Poor guy. No wonder he doesn't socialize much.

Figuring you had some time, you grabbed your med kit and strolled down to his room. Maybe he'd have a good explanation of his situation. He was a renowned geneticist, after all.

The spider positioned outside his door gave you a wary look. "Miss, you might wanna-"

"Doctor," you corrected crisply, "and I'd like to see my patient."

The young man hesitated, but let you through anyway. He rambled about precautions and avoiding Miguel's temper, but you weren't listening.

His eyes were red.

A bitter, furious shade of scarlet that made your tongue dry and your heart cower. He was pulsing with so much restrained energy that you felt three times smaller. Again you were reminded of his size. You clutched your kit and dismissed the guard.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Despite his condition, Miguel could still easily snap your arms in half. Sharp canines dug into his lower lip. Maria's earlier comment came back to you. I'm more worried about the teeth than the claws, honey.

"Miguel?" Your voice was surprisingly stable, though quiet.

He blinked but gave no further answer. Swallowing, you walked slowly around to the side of his bed and sat. His straining thighs were inches away. The net hummed gently, resisting any movement.

You squinted against the bright threads. Miguel continued to scowl, eyes narrowing to slits. Trying to breathe steadily, you pulled out a capped syringe.

"I'm going to give you your vaccines is that alright?" stay calm stay calm oh my god oh holy fuck-

A singular, clawed finger poked through the net.

"Be my guest, mija."

He'd broken the restraints.

______________________________________________________________

part two out on Aug 18! love you xox

let me know if you want to be tagged for updates!

[cbrownjc]

Hello :) I was wondering if we ever got confirmation about which books Rolin is interested in focusing this adaptation on? I know that they'll probably take elements from most (if not all) VC books, but if they're aiming at 7-8 seasons with some books taking multiple seasons to adapt, they're going to have to pick and choose which books to really dig into.

I was also thinking about production. I've seen people talk about how we'll need to wait another 1.5-2 years between seasons and I kinda doubt that? I feel like we'll start speeding things up and getting a new season every year, mostly because I just can't see them go for 12+ years of production on this show. Very few shows nowadays go more than 10 years, and if they really want to do 7-8 seasons I can't see how they'll manage that with 1.5 to 2 years in between each season. I understand they're in for the long haul with the Immortal Universe but...that's very long in the modern drama landscape.

Honestly I am mostly just hoping to get new seasons more frequently and also be able to see their full vision realized because the longer it goes on the higher the chance they'll run into issues like actor availability, leadership changes that could impact renewals, budget restrictions, etc. What do you think?

Hello!

Okay, first to answer the production question. Now, while many shows rarely go past 10 years wrt production of them, that is really dependent on their Season count. Game of Thrones, for example, only ran for 8 Seasons, and production only lasted 8 years as well.

The Walking Dead ran for 11 Seasons and was produced over 12 years.

AMC has said in the past (or, at least, Rolin Jones has said that AMC has said) that they wanted 10 Seasons for IWTV. RJ, however, has been consistent in saying he has an 8 Season plan.

So whether the show continues on for at least 2 more years after Rolin's 8 Season plan is up in the air right now and we should just focus on, at most, getting 8 Seasons, Which yes, I think will take over the course of 8-9 years to film.

Because I think starting with Season 3, the wait and production times will decrease over time. Remember, the strikes threw a bit of a wrench into things. But what also did regarding Season 2 was that it's clear that Rolin and the writing staff didn't start actually writing Season 2 until AMC had officially greenlit Season 2 back in September of 2022. That is why shooting for Season 2 couldn't start in the fall of 2022, there were no scripts broken, let alone written yet!

And then, once the scripts were done, they still had to start pre-production stuff, such as location scouting, figuring out which sets needed to be built, etc.

So shooting for Season 2 could only start shooting when it did because it was the earliest they could get all that done once they were given a renewal notice.

I think things are very different when it comes to Season 3 because I think, even if the show hadn't already been quietly renewed for Season 3 before it was officially announced, RJ and the other writers were already breaking and writing the scripts for Season 3 starting either just before or while Season 2 was airing. And so given that writing time, plus the fact that they probably don't have to do as much location scouting (since many of those locations were already found in Season 2) pre-production will likely take less time.

I think filming will begin in late October, meaning we'd get an October 2025 release date. Which I think will be the standard release window going forward with each new season and why the wait will be another long one again, but that will also give the production staff and actors breathing room after they are done filming a season before going into the next one.

So for that reason, I can see production of the show lasting 9-10 years, but that is because of the extra 1/2 year gaps between the filming and airing of Season 2 and the one I feel we are going to get for Season 3.

As well as the fact that I think when they get to Queen of the Damned, that will be a true split-season like the one Breaking Bad got for its final season. That show had Season 5, Part 1, and Season 5, Part 2. Because even though this past season was called "Season 2" externally, you can see by the episode numbers that internally, what this really was was "Season 1, Part 2."

Anyway, as to the books being adapted -- and not just having elements taken from them -- Rolin has said for sure we are getting IWTV (which we just finished), The Vampire Lestat (Season 3), Queen of the Damned (which is where he spoke about it being so epic and grand a story that they will probably have to split the season in order to tell it all) and Tale of the Body Theif (which he confirmed after Season 2 was finished that they were beginning to already set up for). He also mentioned at Comic-Con in 2022 that Prince Lestat would be adapted.

Also, while RJ talked about the book The Vampire Armand being important, he's never said it would get its own separate adaptation, which honestly makes sense. Because of the way that book is told, you can just interweave elements of it when you want to focus on Armand's backstory, or even just do a stand-alone episode here and there dedicated to parts of it. It really isn't the kind of book you do a full season on IMO.

So yeah. The books that we know for sure are getting their own, full adaptations per RJ so far are IWTV, TVL, QotD, TotBT, and PL.

I can see them throwing elements of books like Memnoch, TVA, and Blood and Gold into it all, but I don't know if they'll get their own full-season adaptations. As I said, I don't think TVA will. And I don't think B&G will either, as I see it just like TVA -- you adapt elements of it during a season, maybe even full sections of it for a flashback episode or so during a season, but it doesn't get its own full stand-alone season.

The same goes for Merrick, since they already did Louis' suicide attempt and Louis seems to be moving forward from his despair and grief regarding Claudia -- so that even if Lestat did fall into his post-Memnoch coma in the show, I'm not sure this Louis would attempt to end his life again over that loss. (Even more so after this Louis also got that letter from Lestat in the past, telling Louis to please live on in the event of his death.)

I have no idea if they are seriously going to ever do Blackwood Farm or Blood Canticle. Neither book has ever been mentioned, even in passing. Plus, they kind of depend on what and where Mayfair Witches is at or has going on at the time and well, that show . . . 😅

Oh! And they might be looking to adapt the whole Prince Lestat trilogy, but I don't remember if RJ has talked about adapting the whole trilogy -- meaning the entirety of each book -- or just the full first book and then elements from the other two. (Because I do think it's clear that, if anything, we'll get the Loustat ballroom dance from Blood Communion in the final season of the show).

So yeah, I think that this is what we're looking at for the next few years, book adaptation-wise.

[wishluc]

I love yandre himeko thou what about kafka thou??😍😍

Literally insane about her it's crazy

A Stellaron Hunter has no business in the Space Station, as far as you're aware.

But it's not like you can go anywhere with Kafka's gun under your chin, her pink eyes looking up at you with unabashed interest. The contrasting sensations of cold metal and her burning gaze sends your heart faltering, your mind spinning as you try to come up with a way to escape the situation.

"Now, my dear," Kafka's smooth voice sends shivers down your spine, and she grins, clearly having noticed the effect she has on you and taking great delight in it, "no need to be so rash. Didn't I tell you to stay put?"

You gulp, watching closely as her eyes narrow, "Uhm, Miss…" Your tongue falters mid-sentence, terror tightening its grip on you as Kafka pushes her weapon into your skin, as though to serve as a reminder, "I don't have access to—"

"Shh," she whispers, slowly withdrawing her gun. Just when you thought you could finally relax your tense figure, she swiftly grabs you by the waist and spins you around, slamming your face up against the wall, wrists held behind your back. Your gasp echoes through the room, but Kafka merely chuckles, "My apologies. I need to take certain precautions, as I'm sure you'll understand. Though if we're being honest, I don't mind your fight. It's what I like about you, your resolve, your determination…you're a clever little thing, aren't you?"

"And please, call me Kafka. We have more than enough time to get acquainted with each other, don't we?"

You only manage to wheeze out a few words before Kafka shushes you again, "I don't have—"

"That's perfectly alright," Her voice is still light, her tone airy, like your current predicament was just a normal occurrence for her, "I don't need any of that."

Then, with a steady hand pushing against the small of your back with unexpected force, you feel her other hand dig into your pocket. Your shuffling and twisting do nothing to slow her exploration, as she finally pulls out your ID card (although you couldn't see her, you could swear that she had a triumphant smile on her face).

"[Name]…a researcher, I see? How interesting. How long have you been working here, darling?"

"3 years now," you focus on your trembling fingers, ignoring the way they grazed Kafka's skin whenever you tried to stretch them out.

"Are you interested a change in careers, by any chance? I have a wonderful opportunity for you. Though…" she trails off, as if internally contemplating something, "I wouldn't want any of my companions getting too close to you either…"

You're not sure if her question warrants an answer, especially considering the clear fact that a researcher like you has no place among the criminals of the Stellaron Hunters.

"Or not," she chuckles, "maybe," she brings her lips right to your ear, and you go absolutely still, too afraid to even breathe, and then she lowers her voice, "you'd like to be my pet instead?"

You don't even have the time to process her words before she's laughing to herself, a soft, lovely sound that worms its way into your soul, "just kidding, of course."

You're not sure what to make of this woman, except for the fact that she was probably half-mad. And you were going to be stuck with her longer if nobody came in to help, and who knew what she'd do to you then?

"How about this?" Kafka's grip on your wrists loosens, and she instead goes to hold your shaking fingers, gently squeezing them in her hands, "I have work to do here, unfortunately, so we'll have to part ways. But I promise you that I'll find a way to come see you again, so then…You'll come to greet me, won't you?"

You nod, wordlessly, and she finally steps away, allowing you to turn around and come face-to-face with her. She's smiling, just as dangerous and as beautiful as when you first saw her, her eyes glimmering with something you can only identify as amusement, and she holds, in between gloved fingers, your ID card.

"Good," she looks you over one last time, pocketing the card, "I won't forget, darling. So you keep your end of the deal too, alright?"

You nod again, not trusting yourself to speak, and she begins to walk away, stopping at the door. Her head turns ever so slightly, her piercing gaze directed right at you as she utters her parting words, "I'll see you soon."

all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)

[moodymisty]

Sanguinius being secretly guiltily down bad for you, Horus’ beloved??? Now that’s a very fun scenario. Especially considering how Horus starts behaving during the heresy. Don’t you think that Sanguinius would feel the need to rescue you from such a terrible situation? Keep you somewhere where you’re completely safe and far away from the forces of chaos (somewhere right by his side)?

He’s aware of his feelings towards you but would never want to burden you with them, considering the emotional pain you’re in right now. But that doesn’t mean he can’t hold you for a little longer than usual, or linger around you for more than is necessary, or wrap a wing of his around you as a loving friendly gesture. He lets himself indulge in these feelings sometimes, just a small amount, because if he doesn’t he feels like he might explode. The guilt hasn’t gone away, in fact it’s even gotten stronger. You see him as a friend and a confidant, but nothing more, and it’s obvious to him that your heart still belongs to Horus (why should it? Why not him??). And if you weren’t under his protection there’s a high likelihood that you’d probably get assassinated, so he can’t be taking advantage of you like that (despite how badly he wants you to love him as much as he loves you.). He’s content with just being close to you, he’s okay with just being your friend, if he starts getting too emotional about it he’ll cry in the shower about it. He’s fine. He won’t try anything but he also won’t let anyone else near you. He’s normal about it, he’s sooo normal

I love this plotline so much, I'm so excited people like the Horus/Reader/Sanguinius idea. This is really good and I really like this particular idea, so here's a little thang separate from the main fic i'm making.

No warnings other than Horus falling to chaos obv

"She is very lucky."

Jaghatai Khan speaks plainly, looking to Sanguinius.

"A few days longer travel, and Horus would've beaten you there."

Sanguinius brushes a piece of his hair away from his face that had fallen from his crown braids. He was glad they managed to make haste so quickly. The Red Tear had burned almost everything it had just to make it there in time to defend the planet before Horus and his Black Legion desecrated it all.

"We have the planet's surface until control. We'll need it's infrastructure for the coming battles." Jaghatai gives him a look, and Sanguinius knows why.

All the talk about strategy, infrastructure; They both know Sanguinius went there for you.

He still avoids mentioning it, wings tucked firmly against his back. It hangs between both primarchs as true intentions left unsaid. Jaghatai was one of the only three primarchs keen on how Sanguinius felt about Horus' lover. It's obvious in the way he's looked at you since you first entered Horus' life. But Jaghatai doesn't bring it up.

"Then I wish you good fortune in the coming battles."

Jaghatai leaves Sanguinius alone, and it isn't long after he can no longer hear the warhawk's footsteps that he rushes to return to you. Air whistles in his feathers as he briskly walks, hearing the clanking of his armor pieces striking against each other.

He has an entire squad of Blood Angels guarding the room you're in, of which he passes with gentle acknowledgement. They have taken to you just as much as he had; And voiced no complaints about protecting you from what once was your lover's legion.

Once Sanguinius sees you, the room dark and cast in privacy, he watches you rub the corner of your eye as you turn his way. You must've been crying, though you do a remarkable job of hiding it.

"Oh, Sanguinius; Do you need something?"

You speak to him so formally still, the way you did when you were still on Horus' arm. He so desperately wishes you wouldn't.

"I wanted to come see how you were doing. I don't wish to leave you alone in here for so long."

He comes closer, gently lowering himself onto the edge of the bed to sit beside you. Your hands fall into your lap as you look down at them, trying to find the words. It's then he finally hears the cracking in your voice, as you can no longer hold back your grief.

"How... How couldn't I have seen what was wrong with him?" You look up at him, tears welling at the bottom of your eyes just about to break and stream down your cheeks. "Am I really that blind?"

Sanguinius unfurls one of his wings, it wrapping behind you. It's not close enough to touch other than the light brush of his primary feathers, but it's close.

But most of all he wants to cup your face in his hands and kiss away your tears, to be there for you as you grieve the loss of a lover who is something worse than dead. Sanguinius dreads to hear the things you saw as Horus fell to ruinous powers, but he wants to be the one you come to; To protect you from everything.

But he can't. The love you have for Horus hasn't faded, and you're with the Blood Angels for as long as this war wages. Sanguinius will protect you, but his love for you just can't override the guilt he would feel if he swept in to kiss you as you cried for someone else. No amount of yearning desire is enough for him to take advantage of you in such a way, as you technically sit here indebted to him for rescuing you.

"He hid it from us all. We were all blind, same as you."

You sigh, and your posture seems to soften with his reassurance. His wing inches closer, daring to take just a bit more as it gently cradles you. It's only to make you feel better. One of your hands reaches to brush along one of his long primary feathers for a moment, and he bites the inside of his cheek.

Sanguinius reaches a armoured hand towards you and instinctively he wants to set it on your knee, to pull your towards him, but he hesitates- and moves to your shoulder instead. You lean into it, and hold the necklace that Horus had once given you in your hands. You clear your throat and blink your eyes, a few tears dripping down your face that you haphazardly wipe away with your palm. He wishes to wick them away with his knuckle, to brush his fingers across your skin, but he can't.

"Thank you, Sanguinius. For all of this. I appreciate you being so friendly to me."

Sanguinus softly smiles down at you, and attempts to ignore the way your words stab him directly in the heart; Bleeding all over your hands.

"Of course."

[ladykailitha]

Batshit Soulmates Part 6

The second one today. I'm trying to get through my backlog because I have almost twenty chapters that are finished and ready to be posted. And that isn't counting the fact that with my daily goal of 400 words a day, I'm definitely going to have more than that the longer it takes for me to post.

This here is my schedule for the next two weeks, but as I said, since I'm always writing, that "return to one chapter a day" on the 11th? That's probably a pipe dream. So I might end up adding a fourth day to my posting schedule so that I can at least put out a chapter a week for each of my WIPs.

We'll see.

For this chapter we have fun times at the Wheelers (heavy sarcasm), that talk and a cliffhanger? Yeah, a cliffhanger.

In Medias Res| Prologue|Pt 1| Pt 2|Pt 3|Pt 4|Pt 5|

****

They had been traveling awhile when Eddie decided to get the lay of the land by getting higher.

Which was great in theory until he saw the vast expanse of...shit he didn’t even know how to describe it other than evil. And it stretched as far as he could see.

He turned around to get back down when Nancy called out.

“Don’t step on the vines!”

Eddie froze. “Uh what now?”

“They’re connected to the Upside Down,” she said with a huff.

Eddie looked to Steve to translate.

“They’re part of a hive mind,” Steve explained. “You step on a vine and basically you’re stepping on Vecna and basically everything else in this hell hole.”

“Shit!” Eddie hissed as he tried to come up with a way to get down without waking up the whole Upside Down to their presence.

“I was thinking that now would probably be a good time to get my guns,” Nancy murmured.

Eddie finally decided that fuck it, he was just going to by pass all the vines jump down.

He landed deftly on his feet and as he pulled up his jeans a little he said, “You, Nancy Wheeler, have guns at your house? Guns as in plural?”

Robin pointed excitedly at her. “I know, isn’t she bad ass?”

“I have a Russian pistol,” Nancy said with a cock of her head, “and a revolver.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “You almost shot me with that one.”

Nancy smiled back and with a teasing lilt to her voice replied, “And you almost deserved it.”

TWAP!

Steve stepped back with the force of a denim vest being thrown in his face. He looked up at Eddie in shock.

“For your modesty, dude.”

Steve looked down at the vest in confusion. “Wha–”

Just then there was great big roar and the ground shook. Robin tumbled into Eddie and Steve barely managed to catch Nancy before elbowed him in the side.

Steve and Nancy were able to keep on their feet but Robin and Eddie fell to the ground.

Eddie looked at Robin and then back at where the noise came from.

“Guns are really starting to sound good right now,” Eddie muttered.

Robin looked back at him and nodded. “Oh yeah.”

Eddie was rubbing his shin as Robin’s heel had kicked it on her way down but his brain turned off when he saw Steve walk by as he pulled on Eddie’s vest.

Shit. He had miscalculated on that one. He hadn’t wanted Nancy Wheeler to ogle his soulmate but he didn’t take in the fact on how hot Steve would look wearing his battle vest. He only barely managed to help Robin to her feet before he was hoping forward to catch up with Steve.

His little lizard brain lighting up with, “Hot boy! Must follow hot boy now,” as his feet danced around the vines to be by Steve’s side.

And just maybe Steve wanted it too, because as Eddie fell in step next to him, Steve blushed and ducked his head.

Eddie grinned up at him as they made their way through the darken forest of the Upside Down.

****

Eddie kept looking over at Steve, who was looking like he had merely taken a tumble in gym instead of being eaten alive.

And yeah that was hot, it was also worrying as fuck. Eddie was starting to think that maybe Steve wasn’t a dick, the dude was just traumatized.

Robin and Nancy walked slower behind them to give them some privacy. Finding your soulmate in the middle of the end of the world, again, sucked.

“Hey, I wanted to thank you for saving my ass back there,” Steve said, softly.

Eddie bumped their shoulders together. “You saved your own ass, man. What you did there was very Ozzy.”

“Who?” Steve asked, confused.

“Ozzy Osborn? Black Sabbath?” Eddie prompted. Steve’s confusion only deepened. “He bit the head off a bat on stage.”

“Wha?” Steve said, rearing his head back. “I don’t know you’re talking about.”

Eddie smiled faintly. “It’s okay. All I was saying that that was a very metal thing you did back there.”

“And metal is...good?” Steve asked, unsure.

Eddie chuckled. “Very.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, grateful the dirt and grim of the Upside Down hid his blush.

They walked on for a few moments in silence. “I was so jealous of you, by the way.”

Steve reared back his head. “Me? Why?”

“Dustin talks about you all the time, man,” Eddie said. “Like all the time. Never shuts up about you, in fact. The kid worships the ground you walk on. Called you a badass on more than one occasion.”

Steve scoffed. “Dustin thinks I’m badass?”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie said thoughtfully. “I think I just couldn’t accept that Steve Harrington was a good dude, you know? Rich parents, popular, good with girls, not a douche? There was no way. It just flies in the face of life, the universe, and everything. Including my very own Munson doctrine.” He twisted the rings on his fingers nervously.

Steve reached out and gently took his hand.

Eddie took a deep breath and let out it slowly. “I’m still jealous because you’re the real deal. I’m learning that outside DnD, I’m no hero. I see danger and I turn and run. Or at least that’s what I discovered about myself this week.”

Steve squeezed his hand. ���Hey, give yourself a break. There was nothing you could have done about Chrissy, okay?”

Eddie let out a shuddering sigh. “The truth is that if those two ladies hadn’t dived in after you, I would still be up in that boat. I don’t know how you managed to get the loyalty of two of the smartest girls in school, especially with one of them being your ex, but holy shit dude. Nancy just dived in no hesitation.”

But before Steve could answer another rumble ripped through the Upside Down.

“Jesus!” Steve hissed as Eddie said, “Here we go again!”

They clutched each other as they struggled to remain on their feet. Steve looked up at Eddie and his breath stopped in his chest, tightening like a vice.

They were so close that Steve could taste their mingled breathes. He yearned to just lean forward and–

Robin tapped his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get to Nancy’s before another quake hits us.”

****

When they got to Nancy’s room, their hope for salvation turned to ash like the dust falling from the sky.

“What do you mean they don’t exist?” Eddie hissed.

Nancy looked like she was going to cry. “The Upside Down is stuck in 1983. Most likely the day Will vanished and I didn’t get my guns until after.”

Even Robin looked disappointed at not being about to see Nancy’s guns.

It truly seemed like all was lost when Steve suddenly stopped.

“Holy shit!” he cried. “Can you hear that?”

Nancy and Robin shared a glance.

“Hear what?” Nancy asked.

“Dustin!” Steve said happily. “I can hear Dustin! And Lucas! And Max!” He giggled.

“It’s like they in the walls!”

Eddie grimaced. The pain must be really getting to the guy if he was hallucin–

But then he could hear it too. Steve and Eddie shared a look and they turned, booking it for the door.

They thundered down the stairs and they noticed the golden light glittering around the chandler.

But now the girls could hear the kids too. It sounded like they were in trouble.

All four them were drawn to the light. It was warm and comforting. And god, Eddie couldn’t stop touching the light.

“It’s warm,” he muttered.

The other three reached up and touched the glittering glow. Steve and god, how Steve seemed to watch to reach out to him as well.

“Does anyone know Morse code?” Nancy asked, trying to figure out how to communicate with the right side up.

Steve shook his head and even Robin wasn’t clueless.

Eddie licked his lips. “Um...does SOS count?”

Nancy nearly screamed at him, but let Eddie do his thing. They managed to communicate with Dustin, Erica, and Max, who had somehow gotten themselves under house arrest. Or whatever the hell the cops wanted to call keeping children against their will.

They managed to find a way to communicate with them through Holly’s LiteBrite. And so Dustin rambled at a million miles per hour about gates and murders and Vecna.

“Does anyone understand what he’s talking about?” Nancy asked.

Everyone shook their heads. So she simply sent back a single question mark.

“How many times do I have to be right on the money before you guys trust me?” Dustin screamed.

Steve sighed. “Jesus Christ, this kid has to get his ego in check.”

Eddie leaned over so that he could talk to Steve around Nancy.

“It’s his tone, right?” Eddie asked.

“Yes!” Steve agreed, happy that he had someone who understood what a menace Dustin was at the best of times.

Basically it boiled down to needing to get to the nearest gate. Eddie’s trailer.

“Which great and all,” Eddie huffed. “But let me tell you, Forest Hills is no easy walk from here.”

Nancy looked around at them like they were stupid. “The kids left their bikes here. There should be four of them in the garage.”

Steve rolled his eyes. But they all dutifully followed her out to the garage.

The bikes were tiny. God, are they minuscule. They all climbed onto the bikes and rode all the way to the trailer park.

And if Eddie hung back to watch Steve’s ass all the way there... fuck you, no he didn’t. The view didn’t hurt, though.

They made it his trailer and they laid down the bikes in front of it. Eddie began to shake. Frozen in fear. He couldn’t go back in there. They couldn’t make him.

They could find another ga–

Suddenly there was a warm hand on his shoulder. “I know you don’t want to go in there. But we need to get back to the Right Side Up, breathing the shit down here isn’t good for you.”

Eddie gulped, but nodded.

“I’ll be right beside you,” Steve continued softly. “If you need to, take my hand.”

Eddie instantly latched on to Steve’s hand as he led the group into the Upside Down version of Eddie’s home.

He stumbled a bit as he saw the great, big, red, pulsating...wound.

“Shit!” he whispered, a little awed and a lot scared. “That’s where she died. Like right where she died.”

Steve squeezed his hand gently. “I’m sorry, Eds. We just need to find a way to contact the kids and get us out of here, okay?”

Eddie looked around at his home and just wanted to cry. Nothing was where it was supposed to be and yet exactly where it was supposed to be. And that really fucked with his head.

Nancy looked up at the gate. “It’s too high. There’s no way we can get to it without help.”

Steve and Robin looked around trying to see it there was something that could be used to pry it open from below.

Eddie knew he should help them. He knew where things were kept. But he just couldn’t move. All he could do was stare up at that red wound in his ceiling pulsating with a sick twisted form of life.

Just then something poked through it and Eddie screamed. He didn’t mean to, but the sound had escaped his mouth before he even knew what it was.

What it was when Steve got him calmed down enough to actually see it, was a shovel.

It didn’t make him feel any better, until that curly little mop of hair stuck through the now decent sized hole in the ceiling.

“Henderson!” he cried in relief.

“There you are!” Dustin called back. “Do you think that you guys can work it open from your end while we work it open from our end?”

“Is everyone okay?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Dustin said. “Let’s get you guys out of there, okay?”

Between them, they were able to get the Gate open and a mattress set up to catch their fall.

“What are those stains?” Robin sneered.

Eddie looked up at them and licked his lips. “I, um... I don’t know what they are, honestly.”

Robin’s lip curled. “Gross.”

The truth was that Eddie really didn’t know. He had gotten it used a couple of years ago when his old mattress fell apart. They could have been there from its previous owner for all he knew.

“So who’s going up first?” Steve asked.

“Not you, pretty boy?” Eddie teased.

Steve blushed. “I want to make sure everyone else gets up there okay.”

Robin eyed the sheet rope and then said, “I’ll go.”

Steve nodded and watched carefully as Robin scaled the rope. She flipped around and landed on the mattress with a flomf!

Dustin helped her to her feet.

“That was quite fun actually.”

Back in the Upside Down, Eddie looked at Nancy and Steve, but neither one moved, so he shrugged. “I guess that means I’m next.”

This was Eddie’s least favorite part of gym, climbing rope ladders. He didn’t ever see the point. Though getting detention for pointing out it was part of the military industrial complex was one of his best days in that class, so...

Up he went. It wasn’t that he couldn’t climb the damn thing, he just loved ranting about having to.

“Okay, Nancy,” Steve said. “You’re next.”

But she didn’t answer. Steve turned to her but she was just standing there. He called out to her again.

“Nancy?”

Eddie’s head immediately popped back over the gate. “Shit!”

Steve shook her shoulders, but she remained immobile.

No, no, no, no...

Not Nancy!

****

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911

@birbsauce @acingthecounts @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @chameleonhair

@tinyplanet95

[jamiedc-they-them]

Good People Part V - Can't Be For Nothing (Platonic)

Summary: War. Revelations of two-hundred years ago, and of a night that won't leave your mind. A new world is seemingly born; as is a new family.

Episodes 7/8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Note: Thank you all for following this journey! I will probably do a post mortem on it; exploring my ideas going in, what changed and such. Hope you enjoy it when that comes! I'll link it here when I write it!

"We don't have oysters in my vault," Lucy says, making you and Maximus turn around, "we have canned tuna. But, if you like oysters, I'm pretty sure you'll like canned tuna," you both don't know what to say. You both look at each other, then back at Lucy, and just nod. Maybe. Maybe not.

She chuckles, nervously. Then --

"I was supposed to marry a stranger from another vault," she blurts out.

"I thought you were meant to marry your cousin?" you question.

"Wait, what--?!"

"Well," Lucy says, correcting you on the timeline, "I was. But, I didn't really want to. I didn't feel a - connection. I guess I...I did with this one...as he - as he, uh, as he stabbed me. But, look, my point is, I don't have the best luck when it comes to strangers. But...Titus...Y/N...you are the best strangers that I have ever met. You're good people. You deserve nice things. You deserve a home, and a roof over your head. And to not have to fight anymore. And, if you wanted to, you could both come and live with us in Vault 33."

There's a look in her eyes as she looks at Maximus - Titus, the knight who isn't a knight; he'd told you before the whole thing in the vault happened. Sure, you didn't like being lied to about his identity; but, a good person was a good person - and it's a look you've seen before. Romantic love. Attraction. Even out here, it blossoms.

You never wanted that in your life. Friendships were enough for you. So, as quietly as you can, you back away. You go through the doors, letting your friends have their moment together.

It gives you a moment to process. Maximus. Why'd he be honest with you at first? Why not lie. Maybe it was getting too hard for him. Maybe he thought, one slip would be ok. He bet right, it seemed. You didn't tell anyone. Maybe you were a good person. Maybe you did deserve a second chance at life. Another sis-

"Hey," Lucy says, as she leaves with Maximus. He nods to you, you nod back.

"Are you both all square?" you ask.

She looks to Maximus, nodding with a soft smile, "yeah, we're good," she looks back to you, "you ok with a roomie in the vault?"

You look at Maximus, "he ain't so bad company, for a non-red," he snorts at your wording, "I think we'll manage."

Lucy nods, a spring in her step as she walks, leading the way, "let's go get that head, and go home, huh?"

Maximus stands next to you, "ready to go home?" he asks, looking at you.

"Yeah," you say, arms folded. You bump your arm on his, "let's go home."

You, finally, find Thaddaeus, as he sits near a radio station. You see the booby traps, but all three of you pause. Perception working in tandem.

Gunshots are next. However, luck seems to intervene. They all miss. Still, the hands go up. You're not a threat to him. You just want the head.

If anything, though, he's a threat to himself. As he backs up, an arrow goes through his neck. However...he lives still.

His reaction:

"Aw, no! Awwww!"

Then you hear it. Your pulse picks up. Your hand goes into a fist. You feel the nails break skin.

Vertibird. The Brotherhood are here. Your breath picks up.

Maximus breaks one of the heads left behind. He says things to Lucy, then to you. He looks concerned, but doesn't have time to help. He gives you a light push. Lucy takes your hand. Everything sounds underwater. The only thing you can hear is that fucking Vertibird.

You follow Lucy. She keeps a grasp on your hand. You take her gun, just in case.

You make it far away. Or, what you hope to christ constitutes too far away.

You lean against a dead tree, going down to your knees.

Lucy puts the fresh - well, not really fresh, but new - head into a bag and ties it to her belt, before kneeling down next to you. She's seen you feel. But, never to this extent.

"Ok. Ok. Okey Dokey, Luce, you can do this. You can do this. Your friend needs you. Your friend needs you," she tells herself. The old self is still there.

"Y/N?" she asks, softly, "Y/N, I need you to look at me. Focus on my voice," she says. Chet would sometimes get overworked with things. So, she had some practice. But never with someone so trapped in themselves as you.

"Are - is touch ok?" that breaks through, and you nod.

"Ok. Ok, that's - that's, uh, that's good. That’s good, Y/N,” she may be out of her depth - but you need her, and so she’d do all she could, “that’s good. Can you try to take some breaths with me?”

She takes a deep one in. You follow. She sees you now. Whatever the Brotherhood had done before, it had destroyed you.

“Do you wanna tell me what happened?” she asks.

“Just…” you take some more breaths, “just bad memories of the Brotherhood,” you chuckle, but it’s anything but a laugh, “Jesus, Luce. Whatever is in that head, it’s gonna change the world, whoever get their hands on it. You know,” you say, smiling a bit, “we could just run. You and me, huh? Just not let anyone get that fucking head.”

Despite what Lucy would leave behind, she smiles, “it’s a nice idea,” she says, “but, I need to get my dad back. I need to know why Moldaver took him. I need to put this all behind me, one way or another. That,” she stands up, and offers you a hand, “and I made you a promise. A place in my vault. Safety. This place sucks, but it sucks a lot less with someone by my side. And, I’m not leaving you. I’ll wait as long as I need to.”

You’ve seen loyalty like that before. Or had seen it. It hadn’t been followed through on. But, here was someone who you had known for two weeks, who was following through on a thing someone who you had known your entire life didn’t do. 

So, you nod. You can tell her later your full trauma. Right now, she needs you. 

You take her hand, and continue along your way. You hope Maximus is ok. And, selfishly, you hope he can buy you the time you need to get this done. 

You make it to your destination. Finally, People with guns surround you, but neither of you flinch. The doors open, and in you go. 

You walk through a garden, seeing kids running around. A community. Home. Safety. Family. Life continues on, even throughout all of this shit.

Lucy and you get to the entrance to the observatory. Lucy is let in, but you aren’t.

“No,” she says, voice firm, “they come too. They’re family. Moldaver doesn’t get this head if Y/N doesn’t come with me.”

Begrudgingly, the man lets you pass. 

You reach the doors.

“You ready?” you ask your best friend. She takes a deep breath in, and nods.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Hey,” you say, nudging her, “I’m right here, ok? Like I said, offer still stands.”

She smiles, “I know.”

You enter the room. It’s a grand view, you’ll give it that. See almost the whole wasteland from here. 

You stay back, keeping an eye on things from afar.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about this moment,” Lucy says to Moldaver, “you wouldn’t believe the things that went through my head. One night…I, I actually tried to stuff a grenade into the neck hole; but, I guess I thought that, really, I was gonna walk in here and…blow everybody up. But it's not really how I was raised. That, and I was stopped by that person over there,” she nudges her head to you. You give a wave, a sarcastic one as you then go back to keeping an eye on thing. So, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna keep things civil.”

Moldaver takes what she needs. It wasn’t his head after all. It was his neck. A blue, small, shining little thing that caused all this bloodshed?

She then makes Lucy an offer. One to fully learn who her father is. To fully understand how Moldaver knows him; and why she did what she did. 

Her father tries to make her not listen. He even looks to you, “you can stop this, you know. She’s your friend, protect her!” He demands.

You look at him, and a part of you wants to. You look at Lucy, she does a slight - almost unnoticeable, but not to you - shake of her head.

“It’s her choice,” you say. The man snarls at you.

Moldaver continues. She tells a story. A story about how her father had been around for a long time. 

“Part of an organisation that thought they had the answers to all the world’s problems…” she continues the story. Saying about the people he was a part of. Vault Tec.

“He never told you where he’s really from, when he’s from. He never told your mother, either…”

Lucy takes the bait. Your hand moves towards your gun. Her father may be in a cell, but he’s a dangerous man - who has been around for a long time.

Lucy is described as just like her mother: kind, loving, curious.

“Isn’t that why you came to the surface? Moldaver asks, “partly to rescue your father, but…to know why I took him.”

Lucy looks at you. She’s been read like a book.

Moldaver then looks to you, “have I seen you before?” 

You look at Moldaver, tilting your head before shaking it.

She studies you for a moment. Then, her eyes light up in realisation. They’re not cruel, though. Just realisation. That’s the only look in her eyes.

“Ah. Y/L/N, right?” she takes your frozen stance as a ‘yes’ before continuing, “I knew her.”

“...’Knew’?” you ask, throat tightening.

“Stop,” Lucy’s dad says. You don’t know why. There’s a slight ringing in your ears.

“Lucy deserves to know the truth,” Moldaver spits at the man, eyes still firmly locked on yours, “so Y/N does too. You came all this way with her, to deliver something for someone you didn’t even know. That sounds like your sister to me,” it’s not said tauntingly. It’s not said with any negative connotation. It’s just simply said. 

“You knew her?” is all you can repeat.

Moldaver nods, “I did. She thought you died out there, that night the raiders came. The night the Brotherhood made their own mess of things. She survived. Barely, but, she did survive. We took her in. She helped us anyway she could. Some sort of thanks, but also I think a punishment to herself for seemingly losing you,” you look to Lucy, who looks in concern, but also a hunger to know - to know about herself and her mother, and how her father ties into all this; a hunger to know about you, about what made you this way. 

Curious, as Moldaver said.

“She was a fighter,” Moldaver continues, “just like you are. Sure, you can shoot and hit things. But, you, no. No, you are more in battle up here,” she says, tapping her head, “now, that is a battle I can fully respect. It isn’t easy fighting a battle like that. Wanting to hurt people, and yourself,” your eyes drift, meeting the eyes of Lucy’s father. He doesn’t say anything.

“No, don’t look at him,” Moldaver says, “he doesn’t care about hurting anyone. He’d hurt his own daughter before he got hurt himself.”

“How dare –!”

“How’d she die?” you ask. The words were easier to come out than you thought. Your eyes go back to Moldaver. Your fist clenches again. You feel it pierce skin.

“I think you know,” Moldaver says, a bit of empathy slipping through.

You blink, or try to blink, the tears away, “raiders.”

She nods.

You cave inwards. You hear your heartbeat. You hear echoes of your sister’s voice. You feel everything you did on that night. The fear. The pain as a wound opened up from a knife. The relief at the Brotherhood arriving. The dread at them just cutting everything and anything down. You played dead. You remember waking up hours later, on top of the rotting pile of one of your friends who had left you for raiders. You remember looking around, not finding your sister. The panic. Then the pain. Then the rage. Then the numbness. You lost…it couldn’t have been years, could it? It could’ve been for all you knew. You just wandered. And hurt. Sometimes even got pissed on. Sometimes did the pissing. You were sometimes the victim, and sometimes the aggressive. Sometimes innocent. Sometimes guilty.

You hear the alarm, then feel someone grab your arm. Your eyes open, it’s Moldaver. She nods to the door. Your fingers are removed from your flesh. You gasp. Moldaver gives you a pat on the arm, before leaving with her people. You run to the massive hole in the building, seeing the Brotherhood arrive. You pray with everything in you that Maximus isn’t in one of the suits. You look to Lucy, then nod. You go to the door. 

As if having sixth sense, Lucy turns around and sees you heading for the door, “where are you going?!” she asks, alarmed.

You pause at the door, hand hovering just over the handle. 

“Y/N? Where are you going?”

You don’t turn to look at your friend. Instead, you shut your eyes and answer:

“I’ll buy you some time.”

“What–? What, Y/N that’s - that’s suicide!” She moves forward, grabbing your arm, making you turn to look at her.

What she sees makes her pause.

It’s the same look she gave Norm when she hid him. A protective fire. One that could be used for limitless energy just like the Cold Fusion that everyone was fighting over.

It’s then. Right then and there, she lets herself say it to herself.

Sisterly. It is sisterly, how she feels towards you. You were like Norm, someone she just accepted and would do anything for. You’re family. 

You seem to have that same realisation. Given the look in your eyes.

It is the sibling telling the other: I will sort this out. Do not come out until then. I love you.

But, instead of a camera reel burning to project the living hell being brought down upon you all. The whole world seems to be burning that fiery red instead. Burning and crumbling down all around you.

Just like with Norm, that assurance doesn't work. She grips your arm tighter.

“Please.”

You put the hand that was hovering around the door on top of hers, squeezing it.

“I’m coming back,” you promise.

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep.”

You shake your head, “I ain’t. ‘Cause them out there, they’re fighting for power. Some, dumb thing such as that in a world that lost control years ago.”

“Then - then why are you going out those doors?” 

You smile, “I already let one sister down. I ain’t doing that again.”

With that, you pull your arm free, and open the door. You give Lucy one more nod, before shutting it behind you.

She gulps. Then she hears ringing in her ears. As all that she has learned about her mother, father, upbringing, everything, comes crashing down upon her.

You remember one of your first kills. A man was trying to kill yourself and your sister. He had knocked her out. He had punched you a few times and the world was spinning. You had spat blood onto the floor as the man moved over to your sister. With whatever strength you had left. You got up, charged him, and had him on the floor this time. You punched him a few times, before sticking your teeth into his neck. His gurgled scream didn’t mean anything to you. You just had this anger. This protective fury to you. You ripped out the piece of his throat that you had taken, spitting it out. 

Your sister was standing next to you the next moment, you both watching the man bleed out. She only reached a hand out to you. You took it. You held it for a while after. A bloodsoaked hand. But a promise to never let go. To keep going together.

Fate had other ideas. The Brotherhood had their goals. But they mistook you for raiders it seemed. Or just couldn’t see shit in those helmets of theirs when they started firing. It was only you and your sister and at that point, you didn’t mourn them much. But, that fire of knowing - or, at least, knowing as you did at the time - that your sister had been seemingly killed as well…it made you punish yourself. It made you never fully heal after fights. It made you never fully accept help.

And yet, that damn Lucy Maclean had come into your life, and given you something you never thought you’d have again:

Hope. 

You remember that hope as you fir each round - you are a decent shot, especially for someone who has no actual training with them - and hit most of your targets. You take weapons from fallen people where you could. 

A bullet hits your piece of cover. You heard footsteps. Your latest weapon had clicked ages ago. So, you wait…and wait. And then –

You dive, tackling the person to the floor. They block a punch, before you get one in and –

A bullet slams into your shoulder, sending you to the ground.

“No!” you hear a familiar voice say. You blink, adjusting to the searing pain and the daylight. It’s Maximus, with a friend of his, “they’re my friend! They’re my friend!” he says.

“Oh shit!” his friend says, dropping to one knee, dragging you out of the way. The war itself is distraction enough.

“Where’s Lucy?” Maximus asks you.

You have a hand to your shoulder. One his friend removes as they put a Stimpack into your arm. You groan at it, before answering him:

“Upstairs…with her father.”

“Is she alive?” 

“The more you piss around here, not likely,” you say.

Maximus nods. He looks to his friend, “go,” they say. He nods, and pats you on the arm and leaves. 

His friend stays with you, “I’m sorry,” they say.

You nudge your head to the door, “go. Don’t get caught out here.”

They look like they wanna stay, then realise why you’re saying that. The Brotherhood are brutal. They only let Maximus live due to loyalty. They nod, leaving too, but a few extra rounds find their way onto the floor.

Good deeds and all that, Lucy would say.

The battle seems to be dying down. And you are just plain dying. Another shot had hit you. This one closer to your chest. You had stumbled your way into the building, seeing dead Brotherhood members around you. 

You collapse, growing weaker by the moment. You hate it, having your promise be broken. But, you tried. You fought them off as best you –

“Aw, hell,” you hear a gruff voice say. A hand grabs your arm, and you are hoisted up; your arm going around someone’s shoulders, “we gotta stop meeting like this, sunshine.”

You look, and see the Ghoul who had taken you hostage.

“Ah,” he says, “don’t talk. You’re the silent one. I like that about you. Only talk when necessary,” he begins to move you to the stairs, “now, don’t worry about these ones. They’re all taken care of. But, I do need a word with Mister Maclean. And, I do think that if little Miss Lucy finds out I left you to die, she might do more than rip off my finger, this time.” 

He gets you to the room. He opens the door and goes in, leaning you against a wall. You stumble in as best you can, looking worse and worse by the second. 

“Uh-uh,” The Ghoul says when Hank Maclean looks at you, “don’t look at them. You look at me, now,” Hank complies.

You make your way over to Maximus and Lucy. Getting to the floor with at least a bit of grace. Lucy looks at you, eyes going wide.

You reach out with your hand not on your wound, and cover Lucy’s. A bloodsoaked hand. But a promise to never let go. To keep going together.

“You look out at this wasteland,” the Ghoul says, “it looks like chaos. But there’s always somebody behind the wheel.”

He knows Lucy wants to know how he knows her father. But makes an offer. You can stay here, wait for Maximus to wake up, but you won’t be spared - hell, you were by a sheer stroke of luck - or, you go with him, and meet your makers. 

“You coming?” he asks you. 

Lucy squeezes your hand. Your vision goes hazy. Time is running out. A gunshot goes off. Lucy’s mother dies.

You feel hands on your arm as you are once again lifted up. Lucy is holding you. Even now, she’s gentle. 

You realise what you are then, to each other: an anchor.

Something pulling the other ashore. Making sure they don’t get lost in the madness of this world.

You feel a jab in your side. Another fucking stimpack. Christ you hope a dependance doesn’t follow with these.

You see the Ghoul again, “one for the road.”

You nod. To your surprise, so does he.

Lucy takes your hand.

“You ok?” she asks. You nod, feeling a bit stronger.

“Okey Dokey,” she says. This time, not as bright in tone. One that isn’t entirely flat either. More of relief, a tired relief. A want for rest. But also one that tells you she understands now. This world was dark and painful. There were few light spots in it for hope.

Her hand in yours, tells you she understood your own realisation. You are a bright spot in each other’s lives. A friend to always be there.

So, off you walk together. Her father was gone, in more ways than one. He had fled like a coward. She’d almost shot him. She wanted to.

Her family was now down to two members:

Norm - her little brother. The one she’d always protect.

And you - a sibling she found out here. One that would protect her just as much as she did you.

It wasn’t much. But it was something. 

It wasn’t all for nothing, coming up here. It wasn’t all for nothing, delivering that head.

A new world was coming through. It was fighting.

Now, it was the time for monsters. 

She was just glad you weren’t one of them.

[neyslover]

hiii!! could u pls write something where reader is a famous actress and her and ney both have really busy schedules so it forces them to break up, even though theyre still in love, so they spend a lot of time away from eachother trying to move on but they cant and eventually they get back together cus theyre still in looove !!!! i love ur writing btw<3333

ofccc!! thank u for requesting this!! hope u enjoy :))

i don't even remember the last time i had a genuine conversation with ney.

we rarely see each other anymore, with my packed schedule as an actress, and his full schedule as a football star, we don't really have much time to spend together.

we've both not been the best versions of ourselves due to this.

he isn't playing as well as he usually does, and i don't act as well as i normally do.

"i think we should break up." i told him, voice low and shameful.

"me too." he replies, the same amount of shame, maybe even more, present in his voice.

"this has nothing to do with you, y'know." i reassure.

"yea, no, i get it. i think we'll do better if we're not together, at least not now."

he always understood me.

god, i'll miss him so much.

"and if we don't do better? if we're still the same, and it had nothing to do with our relationship?" even though i was the one that brought up the idea, i was having second thoughts.

"well..." he trailed off, "you have my number."

"okay." i stood up, "i'll pick up my stuff tomorrow."

"okay." he walked me to the door.

"i love you." i mumbled, hugging him one last time.

"i love you too." he kissed my cheek.

it's been 9 months since ney and i officially broke up.

i've been with other guys, he's been with other girls, but we always end up thinking of each other and ending whatever we had with the others.

the other day, i went to the supermarket to do some grocery shopping, unfortunately i managed to forget my wallet.

"fuck." i cursed when i realized my wallet wasn't in my purse.

"it's fine, i got it." i could recognize that voice from a mile away.

i turned around and i saw the one and only neymar jr.

"neymar!" i gasped, pulling him into a hug.

i knew i shouldn't, but i couldn't resist.

"it's been so long, princesa!" he kissed my head before giving the lady his card.

"i know, right!" i pulled away, smiling like crazy, "thank you so much for paying- you really shouldn't have."

"nonsense." he helped me bag the groceries, his only item that he purchased was chocolate milk.

"i'll invite you over for coffee, as a thank you." i insisted, "you have to see how well i designed my apartment!"

"i don't see how i could say no to that." he shrugged, pulling out his phone and cancelling his date.

when we got home, he began complimenting my taste in rugs, which was really funny, but greatly appreciated.

as we were drinking the coffee, and catching up, he said, "i never stopped loving you."

"me neither." i shamelessly admitted, "i never wanted to break up with you. you're probably the best thing that ever happened to me. we were both doing so bad mentally, i just wanted you to be yourself and not have me holding you back."

"you weren't holding me back." he said.

"we both know i was." i laughed.

"i was just always worried for you, i didn't wanna risk being injured and have you be worried. i chose to be like that."

"oh..."

"i still love you, y/n." he held my hands in his, "let's give us one more chance. please."

"are you sure?"

"positive."

"okay. i'm down!"

"thank god."

[swiftsdelucaa]

oooh oooh can I request something for greys anatomy?

Dr. Derek McDreamy x fem reader!

Maybe reader is a toxicologist and works with toxins and how they effect living organisms. Derek and reader meet because reader is helping identify a toxin that was found in one of their paitents. The rest can be up to you?

(just in case it needed to be addressed a toxicologist still holds the Dr. title, so dr l/n)

❛ 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒚 ❜

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Derek Shepherd x reader ♡

𝘼/𝙣: I did some research for some details, I hope you'll enjoy this! :)

Derek Shepherd, one of the most famous and brilliant neurosurgeons in the world. How can anyone not admire him? Everything he did could also be done with his eyes closed, who wouldn't want to have his talent?

Well, other than that, if you watched him you might end up melting.

He could exterminate any tumor or aneurysm, anything, yet something was wrong. When he came to ask you for a consultation you didn't believe it. It was a patient who had been under treatment for two weeks now, for epilepsy attacks, and the situation was getting worse. You did every exam you could, but a mystery remained.

This was all getting more stressful, but on the bright side, you got to know each other better. You can also understand each other immediately. Like if this was destiny...

"How is going today?" you asked him as soon as you entered the room.

"It's getting worse day by day, and I still haven't figured out what's wrong" he said in frustration putting a hand on his forehead. You sat next to him.

"What if it didn't concern the brain? We focused only on that" you said looking at the tests done.

"Maybe... But we should find out where it comes from and we don't have enough tests" he added.

Let's say you weren't one to give up right away, it was one of the perks of your job. You wouldn't let yourself give up until you found the problem, no matter how long it took.

"Holy shit" Derek stood abruptly.

"What?"

"I have to go, it's a 911" you understood it was your patient.

When Derek returned you started scanning and checking again, and the day seemed to go by faster. He left, disappointed again. You stayed there all night, and decided to go with your instincts and run exams everywhere.

When you finally found the problem it was like a dream.

"Doctor Shepherd!!!" you stood up as soon as he arrived, with a huge smile on your face and holding up the papers in your hand.

"No- You've-" he stopped in near disbelief.

"Yes, I have!" he began to smile too.

"Hepatic encephalopathy. It is a toxin that originates from the liver and disturbs its functioning, probably it must have been spread in the blood and may have reached the brain, damaging it. The symptoms coincide, I checked everything. It is not very easy to diagnose, but with all the exams we have, we finally made it!" he hugged you.

"For the cure we'll have to prescribe him a therapy" you added after detached yourself from him. "But now I absolutely need a coffee" you said dropping into the chair.

"You deserve it!" he said giving you a McDreamy smile.

After recovering, you went to the patient's room and began to explain the case to him. With the time and patience, if the therapy manages to have a positive effect, hopefully a speedy recovery.

While all the two of you needed was some rest and quieter days.

Towards evening, you returned to your studio to pack your things to going home.

"Hey" Derek walked over to you leaning against the edge of the door.

"Hey, everything okay?" you asked him.

"Yes yes, now I'll go home too" you smiled at him and settled the last things.

"Doctor l/n" he caught your attention. You looked up at him.

"Are you free to go out some time?" you were surprised by his question.

"It's a date?" you asked approaching him.

"Maybe..."

"Umh, yes, I'd like... McDreamy" you smiled at him.

"Wow, since when all this confidence?" he asked ironically. You just laughed as he looked at you and your eyes met.

"Well, see you Y/n"

[itsyoung8]

My theories in Bully #2

Bonjour ou bonsoir! It all depends on where you are reading this post. Today I wanted to share with you some of my theories that I had during this time of absence.

WARNING: this post is going to be about sex at some point. If you are young and/or uncomfortable with this topic, please do not read. Even if these are soft words, I still prefer to warn since many here are minors

Bryce occupies a fairly important place in the hierarchy of preppies, contrary to what one might think. He is the second right hand man of Derby, after Bif, which puts him quite high compared to the others and especially Tad. What makes me say this is that, during the fight against Russell in the hole and during the fight against Derby during the complete chaos, Bryce is on Derby's side instead of Bif. I think when Bif is not able to be Derby's right-hand man, Bryce replaces him. Bif and Bryce share the same statistics as Bif in boxing as well as his fighting style and health bar (source: Bryce's wiki profile). Thus, for Derby, Bryce is the most suitable to replace Bif when the latter is not available. Derby wouldn't take someone who couldn't provide his physical protection like Tad for example. This is why Bryce is above Tad in the hierarchy although he does not give orders at any point in the game or have any importance in the story.

The choice to put Zoe as Jimmy's last girlfriend is well thought out. In each chapter, Jimmy ends up dating a girl but breaks up with her in the next chapter to date another. This stops from the moment he dates Zoe at the end of Chapter 5. Every girl before Zoe had something that made Jimmy get tired of her: too involved in studies for Beatrice, too concerned about her social status for Pinky, too manipulative for Lola, and too obsessed with her beauty and popularity for Mandy. Zoe is Jimmy's last girlfriend and the one he will stay with until the end of his life. Jimmy sees that it's finally the right one since she's not too much like this or too much like that. This is why he will only confess his love to her (see scene when we start the Complete Mahyem mission) since he judges her as the right person. This explains why, I think, the choice of Zoe as the last girlfriend is thoughtful.

!!WARNING: IN THE THEORY THAT FOLLOWS, THE DESIGNATION OF SEX WILL BE PRESENT!!

Wade is scared of being in a romantic relationship with a girl because he doesn't want to end up like his parents, which is to say divorced. We can rely on this line: "Sure I'll ask her out one day, then we'll wind up being married and divorced, just like ma and pa." This fear pushes him to only want to have sexual relations with girls since this does not necessarily involve a romantic relationship. Moreover, some lines of Wade's dialogues can show us that he is only attracted by this as: "How can I get in her pants? Cologne, dad always wears cologne." and "My dad says he's gonna buy me some condoms so I can like... do it with chicks, you know?". (Feel free to tell me if I'm wrong about the first line of dialogue the English speakers. To me, it shows that Wade wants sex but maybe I'm wrong)

Gurney managed to infiltrate the school, to set fire to the gymnasium, thanks to Gary. When you read the prefects' file, you can see that they are corrupt (except for Max perhaps). It can then be assumed that Gary paid them in exchange for letting Gurney into the school to access the gymnasium. You will tell me "yes, but Gurney may also have gone through the shortcuts near the asylum and which are connected to the school". It can be possible. But I have the impression that only Jimmy knows these shortcuts because, for a long time, they were blocked by stones or barriers. So in my opinion, Gurney went through the entrance of the school thanks to Gary.

Ricky's hatred of jocks isn't just because his ex probably left him for a jock. It is known that Ricky is one of the only students at Bulloworth Academy to openly denounce Mr. Burton's behavior towards the girls at the school. It is also known that most jocks are very fond of Burton since it provides them with steroids and/or has done them no harm. So, when the Zoe vs. Burton affair breaks out, the jocks come to Burton's defense and somehow save him from being fired. Ricky seeing this, has an even stronger hatred for jocks.

In Damon's wiki page, it says that he holds a grudge against the preppies. For me, it would be due to money. Damon holds a grudge against them because, prior to the main story, Damon and the preppies were allegedly involved in something in which the preppies used the money to achieve their end, leaving Damon to be the big loser in that story. This grudge is the same as the one against Ted but for the same reasons. He holds a grudge against Ted because he was chosen to be the quarterback only because he was the most popular in the school, leaving Damon as the big loser. That's why Damon spits on Ted's back in the process. Damon holds a grudge against the preppies and Ted because they got what they want easily, unlike Damon who works hard to get nothing in the end.

This is the end of this second post on my theories. Thanks for reading to the end! Au revoir!

[pullingyourstrings]

The Lie

Pairing: Gareth Emerson x fem!reader

Summary: Gareth lies about not being a virgin anymore and nobody in Hellfire believes him. He asks for your help on backing him up, but you have a much better idea.

Warnings: smut, lots of kisses, fingering, unprotected sex, first time, gareth gets overwhelmed but everything is fine, oral sex (m receiving), a little bit of size kink, nipple play and boob praise, misunderstandings, happy ending, fem!reader has a pussy and uses she/her pronouns.

Word count: 5k.

"This is to Jeff, who's finally not a virgin anymore! Welcome to the club" Eddie raised his beer, laughing, words slurry with how drunk he already was.

"Hell yeah dude!" Jeff celebrated, raising his beer too and clicking it onto Eddie's. "Now it's only Gare left"

"W-what?" Gareth frowned at them. He knew it wasn't a big deal, but there was something about the way Jeff said it this time that felt weird.

"What? We all know you're still a virgin" Jeff shrugged. Gareth felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"No, I'm not" he said quietly. Yes, he is. He doesn't fully understand why he's lying, those are his best friends. They're not judging him.

"You are dude and it's fine" Eddie reassured him, patting him on the back.

"I'm not!" he retorted. Why did it matter so much to his drunk brain? He didn't know. But it mattered. Maybe because it felt bad to be the last one. Maybe because it meant he was just a loser. "You can ask Y/N, she'll tell you" he said, because he knew you didn't think he was a loser. Being his best friend, you were always on his side whenever this subject was brought up and he thought you surely would back him up on his lie.

What he didn't thought about were the implications of that sentence.

Eddie's eyes got wide and Jeff gasped audibly, both looking at each other before laughing.

"No way you scored her, man!" Jeff managed to say, a hand on his stomach with how much he's laughing.

"I mean, cheers to you if you did but I doubt it" Eddie didn't mean to tease, but it sure sounded like it, his voice almost pitying. Gareth didn't like it one bit.

"See, that's why I didn't tell you before" he lied again. Fuck. He's really going down that route when he could've just laughed and said he was joking. Stupid drunk brain!

"Right, right... Well, I guess we'll just ask her on monday." Eddie winked as he got up to grab another beer.

Oh no. He was so fucked.

You ringed the bell anxiously at Gareth's door, ten minutes after he called you asking you to come over because of an emergency. You heard quick steps down the stairs and the door opened right after, revealing a cute stammering Gareth.

"H-Hey, how you doing?"

"Hi, I'm okay. Are YOU okay?" you looked at him up and down, noticing the way he was nervously fidgeting with his rings.

"Yeah, yeah. Come in" he gave you space to enter the house and then quickly rushed upstairs to his room. Weird. Usually you hang out on his living room or the garage. But you still followed him, standing next to his bed as he closed the door behind him.

"What happened? I'm starting to get a little worried"

"I-I needed to talk to you about something really, um, bad. That I did" he struggled to find the words, scratching his neck.

"Okay, go on..." you encouraged him. Whatever this was, it was probably serious if it had him like this, afraid to even look at you in the eyes.

"So... yesterday we were hanging out at Eddie's and they kept talking about... y'know, about that thing that bothers me..." he started to nervously pace from one side to the other of the room, turning to look at you with knowing eyes when you didn't answer.

"About you being a virgin?" you tried to guess, raising an eyebrow. This was one of the main things that bothered him. He always talked about it and you had to be the supportive one, tell him it was okay, that it would happen eventually, that he just needed to find someone special, that if he just wasn't so blind and oblivious maybe it would've happened already. Ok, that last part you never told him, but sometimes you really wanted to.

"Right. That. Yes. And then I don't know what came over me but I lied. I told them I'm not anymore" he said in a guilty tone.

"But you are though?" you tilted your head, confused. You didn't understand where this was going. He nodded.

"So why would you lie? You know none of us really care about this stuff" You didn't understand why this mattered so much that he couldn't wait until monday to tell you.

"I-I don't know! We were drunk! I PANICKED!" he exclaimed loudly, his pacing getting faster around the room.

You laughed, not in a mean way, but in a way that went well with "It's not that bad. It was just a little lie. Whatever."

"No, no, cus' it gets worse! I told them to ask you because I knew you would back me up but now they- they think-" he motioned between you two, avoiding saying it at all costs.

Oh. You understood now.

"Oh. They think we fucked" you wided your eyes. Not that the idea never crossed your mind, but you just weren't expecting that.

"Yeah. I'm so sorry Y/N, I didn't mean it that way but they were so fast to jump into conclusions and I didn't deny it and-" he rambled, trying to explain himself. There wasn't much to explain really, he just kept repeating himself and apologizing and you soon realized he was getting lost in his own head.

"Hey, hey" you stop him, holding his hands in yours. "It's fine Gare. Really." you smiled empathetically. You weren't about to let your friend have a panic attack because of something so little.

"It's not fine! How are you not mad?"

"Because you said you were drunk and I know how those boys are, peer pressure and all" you waved dismissively, trying to calm him down.

"Still. I shouldn't have lied and I shouldn't have brought you with me into this mess. I'm so angry with myself! And now I don't know how to fix this" he sat on the bed with his hands on his head, a moment of silence shared between you. Your heart was pounding so fast you felt dizzy, an idea coming to mind.

"What if... What if it's not a lie?" you suggested, sitting beside him on the bed.

"W-what?"

"Y'know, we could just do it, so it won't be a lie anymore" saying it out loud it didn't sound like the greatest idea ever, but it's already out there now. Best case scenario you get to be his first time, worst case scenario you brush it off and never speak of this again.

"You're joking, right? Really not the time for that" he looked around in disbelief, huffing a little laugh. It was just hard to believe you wanted to do this with him. You? The most perfect person he had ever met in his life? It must be a joke, or a prank. Eddie and Jeff said it themselves, it wasn't possible.

"I'm not joking. We can. I mean, if you want it too" you reassured him, trying to avoid him feeling uncomfortable or pressured. "Or not, just forget I said anything and we'll figure something else" you shrugged like it was nothing, like you didn't just imply you want to have sex with him. You hoped he wouldn't notice the shakiness in your voice as you waited for his answer.

"No, no it's not that. Of course I want to! It's just... You know I've never done anything right?" he whispered, as if he didn't want anyone to hear it, besides the fact it was just you and him in the room.

"I know, it's fine. I can teach you" you offered and he considered for a moment before breathing in slowly, sitting closer to you.

"Okay. What's first?" he smiled softly, eyes fixated on your lips.

"First I'm gonna kiss you. Is that okay?" you cup his face gently with one hand, the other going to the nape of his neck.

"Yeah" he nodded and you closed the distance between you. The first kiss is quick, just your lips pressing against his. The second one is longer, you lick his lips asking for permission to go further and he allows you, your teeth clacking into his for a moment before you turn your head to the side. The new angle is much better, his tongue dancing around with yours in such an orchestrated way, his muffled little moans so sweet, that there's only one thought in your head: for someone who never kissed, he's way too good at it.

"You're sure it's your first time?" you break the kiss, your hands resting over his shoulders, playing with his soft curls.

"Why, was it okay?" he asks worried.

"It was great. You're a good kisser." you notice his hands awkwardly resting on your sides in the bed, as if he wants to do something but isn't sure if he can. "You can touch me, y'know? I'm not gonna break" you laugh and he mumbles a little "Thank God" before kissing you again, his hands immediately going to your hips, squeezing your love handles and holding you so close to his body you're almost on his lap.

"What now?" he whispers against your skin, showering your face with quick gentle kisses.

You take the opportunity to sit on his lap and take off your shirt and help him take his off too. He looks at you like you're a goddess, admiring every part of you.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful" he kisses your neck as you giggle. It feels good to be this close, to feel his body against yours, to feel his shoulders drop as he gets more comfortable and confident.

"Show me what to do, princess. Wanna make you feel good" he plays with your waistband and you smile, taking his hand and placing it inside your panties. You guide him to circle your clit slowly and he slips his middle finger over your entrance, probably without meaning to, your slick dripping down his hand.

"God, you're soaked. Is this... normal?" he asks curiously and you laugh endearingly.

"Yes. It just means I'm ready for you"

"Um... I don't think you are" he slips a long finger inside, ripping out a lewd moan from you, your walls clenching around him with the sudden invasion. "I don't know if my cock is gonna fit. Your pussy is soo thight" you didn't know if he was dirty talking on purpose or if he was actually thinking about the physics of sex, but either way it was working, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine, despite his innocent tone.

"I guess you're gonna have to prep me really good then" you teased and he smiled maliciously, inserting a second finger inside you. You sob a loud moan, his fingers so much thicker than yours. It's been a while since you've done this with someone else, mostly because you were waiting for Gareth to notice you and God was it worth the wait already. He doesn't move for a while, allowing you to get used to the feeling.

"You can move now, curl them upwards a little too" he follows your instructions carefully and watches your face as you close your eyes and throw your head back in pleasure. He can't help but feel proud of himself. You kiss him passionately and start to roll your hips, riding his fingers. You can feel his cock hardening under you everytime your butt rubs on him as you rocked your hips faster.

"Wait, stop, stop" he breaks the kiss with a sharp inhale and you stop everything immediately. He rests his hands on your sides, looking at the ceiling and breathing in and out slowly. He looks fucked out and you didn't even touch him yet.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just-" his cheeks get red with embarrassment, swallowing loudly, his voice barely a whisper when he admits it. "I was getting close"

"It's okay, Gare. That's the point, isn't it?" you huffed a laugh, moving your hips again ever so slightly. You feel empty now that his fingers are not inside you anymore, but this is about him, not you.

"Nooo, ugh" he whines, resting his head on your shoulder defeatedly. His mouth said no, but his hands guiding your hips back and forth said otherwise. "I wanna... We didn't even... God dammit, y/n, I just wanna last longer for you" his voice sounded like he was hurt, desperation at every breathy whisper.

"Do you ever come twice when you touch yourself?" you asked nonchalantly, as if you were asking a normal everyday question.

"When I- When I what-?" he stutters, trying to understand what you just said and how to answer it.

"Everybody does it. Just answer the question" you roll your eyes at him.

"Y-Yeah"

"Great. We'll just go for round two then"

"But– Fuck, I don't wanna come like this. Wanna feel you..." he breathed heavily and you could tell he was really struggling to hold it in, biting down his lip, eyes squeezed hard.

"Okay. Let's try something else then" you start kneeling on the ground in front of his bed and opening his zipper, helping him take off his pants.

"Is this okay?" you asked and he nodded. You pulled his boxers down and his cock twitched free, thick and pink, a bead of precum sliding down his slightly curved shaft.

"Fuck, you were right. You're really big" you held him with one hand, the heaviness making your body shiver with anticipation.

"Um. Yeah. Is that- is that a good thing?" he questioned and you almost started laughing because being self-conscious about having a big dick is such a Gareth thing. Generally boys would brag or hype themselves up about it. Not Gareth Emerson though. He had a girl kneeling on the ground ready to blow him and still had the nerve to ask if it was a good thing.

"Yeah, most people would say it is" you smiled, smearing his precum down with your thumb, unable to look at anything else but his throbbing pretty cock on your hand.

"Yeah? And what do you think?" he asked, as if only your opinion mattered. Maybe because it was exactly that. He didn't care about what other people thought, as long as you liked it and wanted to do this with him forever, then it was fine for him. Your response was a soft kiss at his tip and then a big lick along his length while maintaining eye contact, doing your best to convey the message.

"Ohh holy fuck– Okay, definitely a good thing then" he almost couldn't bare looking at you, moaning loudly and throwing his head back. You started sucking the head of his cock, your soft tongue circling the slit, his hands promptly resting on top of your head. You took him further down your throat, bobbing up and down slowly and stroking with your hand what you couldn't reach. His moans were loud and you could tell he was really close as he held your hair roughly, pressing you down so it would go even deeper, your nose pressed at his soft curls. It didn't take long for his legs to start quivering as he came and you gagged, trying to swallow as much of his cum as you could.

"Fuck, sorry" he released your hair and you lifted up gasping for air, a string of saliva and cum connecting your soft lips to his glistening tip. "Shit. I-I'm sorry"

"Don't apologize. That was hot as fuck" you smiled wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He smiled back, offering a hand for you to get up.

"Really?" he hissed a little as you got up, taking your pants and your underwear off. You sit on top of him, his sensitive dick resting between you two as he holds you closer, breathing you in. "But you didn't..."

"It's fine, we still have time. Let's just make out for now, okay?" he barely let you finish the sentence before he was kissing you, tasting himself on your tongue, caressing your spine with featherlight touches and playing with the clasp of your bra.

"Can I take this off?" he asked and you nodded, watching as he took your bra off ceremoniously.

"Can I touch them? Please?" he looked at you with puppy eyes, pupils blown wide with want.

"So polite" you teased with a little laugh, finding immensely cute how he asked permission for every move, Gareth's cheeks getting red to the tip of his ears. "Go ahead" you placed your hands on his knees behind you, exposing your boobs for him. He palmed them softly, his big warm hands contrasting perfectly with the coldness of his rings against your nipples.

"God you're so pretty... Even more perfect than I've imagined" he whispered as he kissed one of your nipples and played with the other.

"You've imagined this?" you giggled. Maybe it was a heat of the moment thing but you quite enjoyed how he complimented you so sincerely, how he talked so openly about things he usually avoided even thinking.

"Honestly, a lot more times than I should've. It felt very wrong. Nobody wants to think about things like this with their best friend, but I-I just couldn't help myself. They bounce so beautifully when you walk, oh my god" you both laugh at his pure honesty and you get the courage to admit something too.

"If it brings you any comfort, I've thought about this too. Like a lot. Everytime you caught me staring at your hands I was imagining them over me like this" you grab his hand and guide him all over you, your neck, your boobs, your belly, your thighs. He sighs audibly, touching and admiring every part of you.

"Fuck, don't say stuff like that. I'm already getting hard again" and it was true. He’s so riled up all it took was a little bit of groping and kissing and you could feel his dick twitching against your belly.

"Told you we can just go for round two"

"It's not my fault you're so hot" he squeezes a handfull of your butt, bringing you closer to him.

"You're learning fast" you smile teasingly at him.

"I happen to have the best teacher" he shrugged, smiling back and placing small kisses on your torso.

"Yeah? You ready to learn some more?" you reach down between your bodies, sliding your finger on the side of his cock.

"Yes please" he breathed out, shivering at your touch.

"Do you wanna be on top or is this okay?" you figured it was better to ask, since it's his first time and you want it to be perfect, you want him to feel comfortable and do whatever and however he wants it.

"This is okay, very much okay, I like this" he rambled, still kissing you anywhere he could reach.

"I like this too. Been thinking about riding you since forever"

You lifted yourself up a little, guiding him inside you slowly and he’s incredibly sensitive when you sink down onto him completely, turning into a whimpering mess.

"Wait, fuck, please don't move–" he whined, resting his head on your shoulder and his hands on your hips.

"Is it too much? Do you wanna stop?" you pet his hair, a little worried. You never had quite this reaction with other guys. But again, it is his first time so maybe he's just overwhelmed.

"No, please, no stopping. Just... Give me a minute" he took a few deep breaths and you noticed he was focusing, grounding himself into the moment.

"Okay, look at me baby" you lift his chin up, staring into his deep blue eyes. "Tell me how you're feeling, does it feel good?" you offered calmly, trying to help.

"It feels so good, holy fuck" he choked out, almost a cry. "Nothing could prepare me to this, you're so tight and warm around me" you rest your forehead against his and kiss him smoothly for a while before he starts to gently move your hips back and forth, both moaning into each others lips. He smiles, so happy you're the one sharing such a special and intimate moment with him.

You start to move faster and bounce up and down on his cock, so deep and full you swear you could feel him through your stomach. You moaned softly while Gareth gasped and whimpered.

"You almost there? Wanna come with you" he asked, voice a little desperate, somehow thinking about your pleasure over his in a moment like this. You didn't answer, instead guiding his hand between you. He understood, remembering what you taught him earlier. He pressed tight circles against your swollen clit and thrust up into you instinctively, making you moan loudly. You start riding him faster, meeting his thrusts and he takes it as a sign he's doing something right. It only takes a few moments before you're coming, legs shaking, pussy clenching around him and with that he comes too, cursing and holding you close to him by your hips while he rests his head on your chest.

He places your limp body on the bed and kisses your shoulder before laying down next to you and cuddling up. You allow him, because of course he's a cuddler after sex.

You wake up to the sound of Gareth's mom pulling up on their driveway. Huh, weird. His mom works the night shift, so she's usually home pretty late. You look over to the clock on his bedside and notice it's almost midnight. Shit. Your curfew is 10pm!

"Shit! Shit shit shit" you get up, searching for your clothes on the ground quickly.

"What- Y/N, Everything okay? What happened?" Gareth wakes up confused, watching as you frantically got ready.

"It's past my curfew! I have to go" you answered, running to the side of the bed to grab your backpack.

"Wait wait–" he grabbed your wrist where he stayed on the bed, looking at you with so much affection on his eyes. "C-Can I see you tomorrow?"

"I mean, yeah. We have Hellfire tomorrow" except you were so worried about your curfew, that his look and his invite flew over your head.

"Oh." Oh. Gareth understood it now. You only did that because of the lie. It was foolish and selfish of him to think you'd want to be with him after he lied about your relationship and got you into this mess. He let go of your wrist, forcing a smile. "Okay. See you there then"

You smiled back and left his room.

After that, Gareth was sure you didn't actually like him. You were just... helping a friend out. Because that's what friends do. Right?

When you arrived the next day at Hellfire all the heads turned to you. You knew they were all waiting anxiously to ask you about it and Eddie was the one to finally do it as you sat next to Gareth instead of your usual seat at the table.

"Sooo, y/n... Gareth told me about you two..." Eddie crossed his arms and smiled smugly.

"Um, yeah, We're..." together? dating? just fucking? no. None of these seem right. Gareth didn't know how to put it into words and honestly you didn't know either. Because you knew there were feelings involved, you confirmed it the night before with all the soft smiles and heated kisses. And he thought he felt it too, but you left so abruptly he couldn't help but think it was a one time thing.

"We're something! We haven't labeled it yet." you grabbed his arm, pulling him close to you. "Right Gare?" you winked at him. Right, the lie. Gareth had been so lost on his thoughts he almost forgot about it.

"R-right. That's why we didn't tell you guys before"

"Yeah, makes sense... So tell me, how long has this been going on?" Eddie asked, eyebrows raised because he was not convinced at all.

"Two months!"

"Two weeks!" you answer in unison. Dammit Gareth, if you can't lie just shut up!

"Well I've been all over him for two months. But he's a little oblivious, so it's catching up to him only now" you pat him on the chest, laughing and Eddie laughed back.

"Right, right." He didn't sound convinced at all. You pressed a gentle kiss on Gareth's cheek and Eddie smiled. "Well, I'm happy you guys are happy"

"We are. Thanks Eds" you answered, relieved to see him almost believe in it.

"Cheers to you my man. Sorry we didn't believe you before" Eddie patted Gareth on the back and turned his attention to the board, changing the subject. You sighed, your hand finding Gareth's and intertwining your fingers. You didn't think much of it, other than it was a cute thing you've always wanted to do and now you could. Gareth was about to protest when you smiled at him. It's all part of the play, isn't it? You were pretending to be a couple and it had to be believable, after all.

The rest of the night went by fast. Nobody made any comments and you and Gareth acted normally aside from the hand holding.

As the campaign ended for the night and all the boys left, you stayed behind with Gareth, waiting for him to get ready and take you home, like he always did. He grabbed his papers, stuffed them in his backpack and approached you near the door. As you reached to hold his hand again, he flinched away.

"They're gone now. We don't have to keep pretending." he said dryly, almost as if he was mad, catching you by surprise.

"Oh. Sorry, I thought..." you thought it meant something. You thought he felt it too, the connection, the affection, how it felt so right to be together. You felt your eyes begin to water. "Nevermind" Guess not. Maybe he really was just using you to brag to his friends and now that it was done he didn't need you anymore.

"Wait" he reacted as he heard your trembling voice. "Did you... do you... like me?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh my god, Gare. Did you really thought I did all this just to cover up a little lie? Of course I like you, dumbass" you admitted, facepalming at his obliviousness.

"But- You left so fast. I thought maybe you regretted it"

"What? No! I wanted to stay" you grabbed his hand, playing with his rings and he let you this time. "But I had to leave because it was past my curfew. I literally told you that before I left"

"Sorry. I was sleepy and very confused" Gareth laughed, because how could he interpret things so wrong all the time. You laughed too.

"Just for the record, I didn't regret it one bit"

"Me neither." he whispered, resting his forehead on yours, his hands on your hips. "Couldn't stop thinking about you all day"

You kissed him, your lips barely touching his, soft and gentle.

"Would you like to... go out with me... maybe?" he smiled shyly, his cheeks a beautiful crimson.

"Yeah, I'd like that. Let's go right now" you kissed him again, quickly, grabbing his hand and guiding him outside the room. He laughed at your excitement, holding your hand strongly.

You go on a bunch of dates over the next few weeks. You're always showing him new things, making your relationship so easy and fun, full of love and honesty. He's so glad you're the one being on his side through all his firsts and you're so grateful he lets you.

[tgrailwar-zero]

Deciding to follow up on the Priest's lead, you managed to find THRUD and ADAMANT at the market. It was big and bustling, filled with a variety of Solar Cell denizens.

RULER accompanied you, and it was a simple enough explanation about why you were here.

ADAMANT: "So, you're going to help? I won't say no to a bigger hunting party!"

THRUD: "...Mister 'Blade'. I wasn't expecting to see you here."

GIUSEPPE: "News traveled to me and I was curious. There's no hard feelings about our match, right?"

The Valkyrie remained relatively expressionless, but her brow did furrow slightly.

THRUD: "...A grudge would be a waste of memory space. Come, you're just in time, let's be off. We have no time to waste."

She turned, adjusting the pack she had gotten and began heading outward.

The journey out was a bit longer than you expected. It wasn't long by any means, but without RIDER summoning steeds, you were moving on foot. Still, it was a good way to take in the scenery, and the Solar Cell was certainly lush with foliage once you left the metropolitan districts. THRUD gave a brief overview of what you were dealing with.

THRUD: "The Priest said that it had re-appeared recently. Apparently, it had been on the outskirts of the Solar Cell, wandering blindly, circling around and around before finally reaching the mainland. It was reported to have been slowly growing in stature…"

She continued to talk, though the description was beginning to sound familiar. You reached a forested area, ducking into the brush as you all traveled off the beaten path.

ADAMANT: "The Priest said that based on the path, it should be… around here!"

GIUSEPPE: "I hope so, we've been walking for some time."

THRUD: "We'll set up a base camp. And then--"

She was cut off by the the sound of massive footsteps echoing, thundering as something approached from the far distance.

Thundering steps, drawing closer. Closer. Closer. Each one shaking the earth more and more as whatever behemoth was causing them drew nearer.

You saw a massive form. Two massive pairs of feet crashing down, knocking down trees as if they were twigs. Your eyes scanned up the sleek black frame, before you caught a glimpse in the parting of the trees.

'SAKURA SUPERBIA'-- or, more properly, ALTER-EGO. It didn't seem like there was a chance to de-Alter her before the Blue base had been destroyed.

Really, it seemed like she was having a terrible time here.

First, her summoning was botched and she needed to be calmed.

Then there was the first time she had gotten blown up because of you as you followed the advice of a very convincing virus over the reasoning of the Blue faction.

And then the second time she got blown up because of you, because of the Larval Beast that you accidentally set forth upon the Solar Cell that forcibly corrupted her body.

Your AVENGER did snap her out of her first mana-starved rampage-- and sure, you forcibly ripped him away from her, but he did come back. And then her base was destroyed, and her allies were scattered to the wind before she could be properly recovered, so now she existed as a pseudo-dragon of a Beast that was no longer present, and she seemed like she was in a pretty bad way, and now she was on a warpath towards one of the most densely populated cities of the Solar Cell.

So. You know. There was that to keep in mind. This was probably a situation that you'd have to handle with violence, care, or a mixture of both. She let out a deafening, yet pained bellow.

She didn't exactly sound happy. She sounded mad. And angry. And upset. And enraged. And other synonyms for 'furious'. It didn't seem like music was going to be the cure-all here, at least not while she was in this state.

THRUD: "Okay. We'll have to be cautious here. Right now we have the element of surprise, so we'll have to plan."

ADAMANT: "That's a seriously giant, uh, giant! And is she getting bigger…?"

GIUSEPPE: "I can see why the Priest needed us to bring her down. Luckily, she's not moving quickly. Any ideas?"

He focused it to you, though you realized he left out any titles. Potentially because the others didn't know that he was your Servant yet, and wanted to keep that information locked down.