#speck’s live updates

[i-am-a-fan]

Not me telling myself that I’ll work on my project only to walk around in circles in my room

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: I really gotta finish my paper (don't worry I'm like 3/4 done).

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

The light is there again. Bright, green, searing into your vision as it shines against the wall, weaving in perfectly between the curtains. Every night. Taunting you. And in the morning, gone. 

Can you call it a pattern after only three days?  

You don’t know what to call it. You don’t know what he wants from you. If he wanted to hurt you, he would by now, wouldn’t he? Or is this a sick game he’s playing? Whatever it is, it’s madness.  

You sit up and grab your pillow. You cross the room to the door and close it behind you. You put the pillow on the couch and pull down the folded throw across the back. You don’t expect to sleep out here either but you won’t have to stare at the insufferable dot. 

You lay down on your back and sigh at the ceiling. You stare up at the plaster until your eyes close on their own. Your shoulders are tense, your back too, every muscle in you has been knotted for days. You tried a hot shower, even a bath, but both just made you feel vulnerable. You’ve never been overly comfortable being naked but now you feel as if he can see your every movement. 

You tried some exercises in an effort to loosen up too. Those only made you dizzy due to your lack of sleep and rationing. Those should be a sign for you to rethink your strategy but your only other option is to face the danger. You know better than that. 

You huff as the last gray days pile on you. You open your eyes and bring your hand up to your forehead, trying to rub away the stress. You pause as a gleam flashes over your flesh. You drop your arm back down and raise yourself on your elbows. 

Jeez. 

Right there in the middle of your chest is the dot, rather a sliver of it. You look up as it glints in between the verticle blinds. You drop back down. Fine, whatever, if he’s going to shoot, he should just get it over with. You hate this limbo. It’s easy when you know what you’re waiting for. This is just torture. 

A sudden jarring jingle cuts through the din. You sit up, heart beating. It isn’t the deafening gunshot you expected. The green laser ripples through the darkness as you stagger up to your feet and cover your ears. You follow the blaring noise into the bedroom. 

Your phone lights up on your nightstand, flashing as you cross the space. You grab it and quickly silence it, staring at the screen in confusion. You keep your phone on silent, always. You never really use it for more than your banking and emails. On the screen, you see a map of your neighbourhood and a speck pulsing at the centre; your apartment. Huh. 

You remember dismissing that feature before. Several times when you got the phone it kept offering to set up the ‘find your phone’ app but you figured you wouldn’t need it. Yet, here it is, chiming and chirping at you. It isn’t a coincidence. It’s him. 

You peer over at the window and the green glare pours through. You look down again and find the dot right there. You shake your head and back away, hugging yourself as you flee back into the living room. It’s all so messed up and confusing. You don’t get how this can be happening. 

You go into the kitchen. No windows to haunt you there. You put your phone down and lean on the counter as you hold your head. You blow out a breath and you close your eyes. 

You try not to let yourself ask the questions but you’re so tired, you can’t keep fighting this hard. Who is he? How did he find you? Was that day at the cafe the first? Were you so obtuse that you never noticed him before? Does any of it matter? 

The silence shatters again as your phone erupts in a cacophony once more. You back away and cup your ears. You’ve never done well with noise, especially loud noise, or too much at once. It’s a sort of dissonance that makes your head spin. 

You scramble to grasp the phone, eardrums pulsing, and you hit the button again to hush it. You close out of the app and a notification pops up at the top of the screen. For a moment, you’re confused. The only messages you get are obvious scammers or stupid adverts you need to unsubscribe from. 

‘Get some beauty sleep.’ 

You scowl as you stare at the text. What does that even mean? Even if the number is private, you don’t need to guess. You know it’s him. He’s messing with you. You won’t respond, not even in writing. You delete the conversation entirely and shut the phone off. 

You leave it on the counter and go back to the couch. The laser awaits you. You lay down under it and resign yourself to your fate. The only comfort is he’s still out there and you’re in here. A ripple of fear courses through you as you wonder how long that can last. 

👄

Your mail doesn’t come to your door. It’s left in one of the dozens of metal boxes near the front door. Typically you go down to grab it twice a week. You haven’t gone once in the last six days. You don’t plan on it either. You get digital statements for everything anyhow. 

Yet, that doesn’t stop the special delivery from sliding underneath the door. You’re in your kitchen when you hear the soft whoosh. You go to the doorway and stare at the envelope on your floor as you lazily stir your instant coffee. You’re too tired to react with more than a yawn. 

You think it could be a notice from the building. They usually leave one when they have to do an inspection. Yet, there’s not sign of the rental companies logo and the envelope is black. You doubt they’ve rebranded. 

You sip from your coffee and sit at your desk. You login to the portal and open up a task. You don’t need to worry about all that. You muster all you have left for your daily toil. It’s the one thing you can’t forego; the one thing you share in common with other people, you need money to survive. 

You empty the coffee with careless gulps as you key through several tasks. The hours drag by, the clock ticking in the corner of the screen, second by second, minute by grueling minute. The days don’t matter, they all blend together in this hazy purgatory. 

You’re drawn from your mindless typing by the agonising growl of your stomach. You’re starving. Those times when you do let yourself eat, it isn’t much. Finally, your humanly needs have overcome your lack of appetite. You can’t deny it any longer. 

You return to the kitchen with your empty mug. You go to rinse it and water spurts forth, for just a second, then the pipes grind and run dry. You put the cup in the sink and cross your arm. You march out to the bathroom and try the sink in there with the same result. The faucet in the tub runs a little longer but peters out to a single drip. 

Hm, maybe that’s what the letter’s about. 

You sweep back out and scoop up the envelope. Just bending down makes you see stars. You put it on the counter and go to the cupboard to take out the salted crackers. You unfurl the top of the sleeve and wiggle one out. You munch on the stale square and slip your thumb under the flap of the envelop and tear. 

You put down the crackers and rip open one end of the envelope. You shake out the contents. It isn’t a letter. Just a folded pamphlet with something smaller inside. You unfold the spa booklet to uncover the all-inclusive pass within. You drop both and grip your head. 

Is this some sort of bribe? Bait? He’s trying to draw you out and with what? The worst experience you could think of? The smells, the touching, the people... 

You put it all back in the envelope. You don’t want it. You don’t even want it in your apartment. Your safe space. He’s invading it little by little. He can’t have it.  

You go to the door and shove it back under the bottom. You push it as far as you can and fall back, catching yourself on the wall. Your head hurts, you’re tired, you’re stressed, you’re afraid. You just want everything to go back the way it was. You want to be alone. That’s all you ever wanted. 

👄

You use your phone to authorise the two-factor sign-in to your bank account. You set it aside after confirming and wait for the screen to load. Your heart nearly stops as you see the balance. A few times you came too close to the red but this is not what you’re expecting. There’s about fifty thousand dollars extra. It has to be an error. 

You click on your chequing and bring up the next screen. There is is ‘50,000’ in bold green letters but it doesn’t say where it’s come from, just ‘authorised payment’ next to it. What the heck does that mean?  

Right below it you see your work deposit. That appears as usual. Company name, amount, account number. So what happened? 

You click the chat icon at the bottom of the page and wait for an agent to connect. You go through the typical automated questions; what is your issue? Account number? All of that. When you finally have a representative and explain the extra zeros in your account, the response is only three dots. 

You shake your head. You don’t need this. You have enough going on. Your water’s still out, you’re almost out of coffee, and you haven’t even started work. Halfway through and it feels like you’ve only just started a new week. You frame your face as you await the response. 

‘Hello, miss. Thank you for your patience. We have found no error in this transfer.’ 

You lean back and whine. That doesn’t make sense.  

‘Can I know where the money came from?’ You type. 

‘The payee is listed as London Fog LLC. It appears to be a business payment.’ 

You close your eyes. What? That makes no sense. It... can’t be. 

‘Can you reverse the payment, please?’ You input. 

‘We can attempt to reverse this. This might take a few days to process. We will keep the ticket open until this is done.’ 

‘Thank you.’ 

You close out the chat. That’s as best as you can do. It’s all so weird and you can’t deny the nagging truth. It’s not an error or a coincidence. It’s that stranger. He is playing a very confusing game. 

Your phone lights up and your eyes flit down. You lean in to glimpse the notification before it minimises. ‘Happy hump day <3’. You quickly black out the screen and flip it over. Leave me alone! 

👄

You almost expect the knock on your door. Deep down, you knew it was coming. Noon, on the dot. It’s Wednesday. 

“London Fog express!” He calls through. “Ew, this one’s gone a bit bad.” 

You hear him shifting around before the handle turns without give. He wiggles it and sighs. He huffs and you can tell by his shadow he’s leaning on the door. 

“Look, jellybean, I came all the way here, even burnt myself on this thing,” he says through the door, “you know, I’ve had some late nights...” he pauses as you sit silent, unmoving at your desk. “You don’t have to do more than open the door and take the cup. Promise, I won’t try nothing. I mean, I’ve been pretty patient, haven’t I?” 

You press your fingers to the edge of your desk to keep from shaking. 

“Right, I guess... I haven’t even introduced myself. How forgetful. Name’s Lloyd, but you could call me like L or love bear or... snookums. Something sweet like that.” 

You can’t. You’re going to pass out from absurdity. This man is psychotic. 

“You know, I’m a pretty handsy—handy guy. I could fix that water issue you got going on--” 

Holy cow. How does he know—how could he? He wouldn’t be able to just shut off your water. Right? 

“See, I get you, baby face, you’re the quiet type. You like to keep to yourself. That’s fair but everyone needs someone. I see that now,” he rambles through the door as it groans against his lean, “I didn’t before. Then I saw you and everything changed. It’s me and you, cupcake.” 

You stand and shudder, walking stiffly around the corner and towards the door. You step up and try to see through the peep hole. It’s still black. You exhale and sniff. 

“What do you want?” You croak. 

Silence. The door shifts as he takes his weight off of it. He soles scuff on the other side. 

“Hi,” his voice softens, “how are you, jellybean?” 

You close your eyes. You just want an answer. You cross your arms and rocks, a soothing gesture as your nerves bubble up. 

“Yeah, that’s okay, I know you’re not much of a talker. We balance each other out like that. I’m doing okay, you know? Cafe was a bit crowded but I got your latte. Foam shouldn’t have fallen yet so if you just want to open--” 

“What do you want?” You step closer to the door and raise your voice. 

He scoffs into a hum, “isn’t it obvious, babes?” 

You open your eyes and bit your upper lip. 

“You, baby cakes. Simple as that,” he drawls, “so why don’t you grab your tea and we can have a little sit down.” 

“Go away.” 

He huffs and clicks his tongue, “don’t be like that, sweetie.” 

“I don’t know you--” 

“I’m Lloyd, your love bear--” 

“Stop. I want you to leave me alone.” 

Another sharp exhale from the other side. A lull that prickles across your skin. 

“I can’t do that.” 

You wince, “please...” 

“All you have to do is open the door, jellybean. You know I’m a good guy. I’ve been looking out for you. Every night,” something drags down the door. “You can’t lock yourself away forever.” 

You step back and lean on the wall weakly. He’s delusional and you’re so tired. You’re almost tempted to open the door just to get it over with. You sink down onto your butt and hug your knees. 

“No.” 

That’s all you say. It’s all you can eke out.  

He taps on the door lightly and sucks his teeth. “Well, guess I gotta amp up my game.” 

[pearl-blue-musings]

I had some thoughts…(spoilers for 2.3 update)

The Charmony Festival comes to a close, and the craziness of Penacony has begun to calm down. You watch as Aventurine interacts with Boothill via video call as you stand a few feet away from him. Clockie Studios Theme Park is relatively abandoned as most guests are in the central part of Golden Hour for the festival. The two of you needed somewhere private for him to interact without the potential of being overheard. After all, he did cause a big rift in the screen at the park and tried to get himself killed in a very flashy and public way.

You hear him chuckle as the broadcast ends. His boots click on the ground near you, alerting you of his closeness. He wraps a confident arm around your shoulder, briefly getting distracted by his phone buzzing. His eyebrows furrow as the messages flood in from a group chat. “Hmmm,” he ponders aloud. Aventurine’s touch isn’t romantic by any means, something you’ve come adjusted to since you realized your harbored feelings. His poker face and heartbeat give nothing away and you fear you may never know his true feelings. Of course the two of you have bonded over the course of his career and this trip, but he is still too much of a mystery to you.

You sigh deeply before indulging him. “Are you gonna tell me why your phone is blowing up?” You feel him chuckle next to you as he shows you the thread. Something about a bomb or multiple bombs on the Feldspar? His tone suggests there’s something eating at him but it’ll be pulling teeth for you to get the answer.

“Something about a bomb and Miss Sparkle. Although she is a Masked Fool, she’s been somewhat helpful in this trip I must admit.” You roll your eyes and remove his arm from your body. You miss the way he pouts slightly as he tries to catch up to you. The rift zig zags with specks of red and black flying all around. An uncomfortable feeling settles in your stomach as you crane your neck upwards. Your hands hold your arms and squeeze tightly. This man, your higher up, the one who holds your heart, tried getting himself killed in a dream all for the IPC’s gain. Was life not sacred? He was willing to do the unthinkable, and sure he lived, but he was willing to potentially die and that just-

“Something on your mind?” His purple and blue eyes travel to where your eyes are looking and he sighs. He can tell you’ve got some bad thoughts in mind and wants to calm whatever thoughts you have. Hi huffs and rests his elbow on your shoulder. “You shouldn’t concern yourself too much with the past. I’m here now aren’t I?”

You merely shake your head and try to escape his lingering touch. Your eyes gaze to the ground before shutting them lightly. “Look, I get that I hid some of my intentions with this mission. And maybe,” he extends, “I shouldn’t have flirted too much with the trailblazer to get what I want but everything worked how I wanted.” He tries again to touch you but you shrug him off.

You sigh and stop in your place. “It’s not that, although the flirting…w-whatever.” Your hand finds purchase on the back of your neck as you finally turn to him. “Why do you gamble your life away like that?”

Aventurine’s smile softens, finally happy that you’re facing him again. “I guess I’m just lucky. You know that. I’ve never lost.” He steps toward you and tries to hold your free hand. “You know that better than anyone,” he whispers.

“And that’s exactly why I care so much! Someone needs to care about your life even if you don’t! What about,” you heave as your voice gets louder. “What about the people that care about you, Aventurine? The ones that don’t want you to bet your life? The ones that want you to live!”

Aventurine is taken aback at your emotional display. He knows he can’t hide too much of himself from you. He lets his eyebrows furrow slightly with the frown settling on his face. The last time someone scolded him about this was his sister and then she…

You continue in your tirade. “I know you didn’t tell me because you didn’t want me to worry. But I also know how incredibly lucky you are! But, aeons Kakavasha, why do you let everyone use you to the point where you’re going to die?”

Kakavasha.

His real name slipped so effortlessly from your lips. And never had he heard the name sound so beautiful and cared for ever in his life. The fear and anxiety in your gaze starts to pierce the layers of his facade. The Sigonian stays silent as he lets your emotions take over.

“You’re, you’re way too important to me and others a-and you gamble your life away like it’s nothing! I know you’re blessed but…” you begin to pace back and forth in front of him, frustration eminent from the tension in your muscles. “You’ve made it out of insane predicaments but damn it!” Tears that had been held back finally release and it’s like a damn has finally burst.

Kakavasha gently steps toward you to cup your face. You don’t resist his touch as you lean into his embrace, shoulders shaking from your crying. He pulls you into his chest for a tight hug, breathing calmly to help bring your elevated heart rate down. Resting his chin on the top of your head, he softly confesses, “it’s been a while since someone other than family has taken a true interest in me. I’m not used to someone genuinely caring for me. And not trying to exploit or use me for something.” He shakes his head with a gasp from feeling your arms around his body.

He sighs again. “You just want me…for me. And that scares me.” His voice lowers to barely a whisper from his admittance. His shoulders relax and you can feel him melt into the hug. “I forget I don’t have to keep being Aventurine around you. Thank you.”

At that moment, fireworks erupts in the sky illuminating it in a myriad of colors. Your face is awestruck as the gorgeous colors dance across the sky. Kakavasha chuckles as he realized what Sparkle had actually done. He lifts his chin off of you, takes his pointer finger and thumb to lift your chin. Soft lips kiss yours as the fireworks display continues on. You kiss him back reverently, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer. A deep and warm feeling settled in his heart as it dawns on him what is happening.

He loves you, another human being. Someone who saw him for him; all of him. Sure he couldn’t be at the negotiations with Old Oti, but somehow he thinks this is where he was supposed to be.

[megs-1800]

Then There is Hope

Note: This is Part 2 of "The Hangover from Hell". You do not need to read the first part though to understand this storey. This is written from Mason POV too. Requests are open.

You can read Part 1 here

Part 3

Summary: You and Mason have not spoken in 6 months after your break up. When he sees that you have a charity awards event coming up he jumps at the chance to see you. Can Mason win you back? Is there still hope for you both yet?

Pairing: Mason Mount x reader

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Swearing, Angst and Fluff

It’s been 7 months since you found out about what I did, how I broke this relationship. And it’s been 6 months since you officially called it and I still feel as broken as I did that first night you left. The first couple of weeks when you first walked out were okay, you were staying at Declan’s and he made sure to send me daily updates on how you were doing. Mostly they were saying how you haven’t left the bedroom and you looked like a zombie, it broke me knowing that someone who was always full of light and happiness is so broken, especially as I was the one who caused it. To be honest I wasn’t much better unless I was going to training I was would just stay at home wallowing in my own self-pity and even when I went to training my head wasn’t even in it which the gaffer noticed so I was also dropped for starting most games which didn’t help the situation. But it was my fault, I broke us. I just wish I could go back.

After 4 weeks you asked to meet up as you made a decision. I was praying that you would give us another chance, I doubted it as you didn’t answer any of my calls or texts the past 4 weeks but I just had to hope. But you shattered my heart when you told me you were moving back to your hometown. You said you got the promotion you wanted and needed to be closer to the office as you were now head of operations, the service was yours and you needed to be around more, I was so proud of you but knowing you were 3 hours away breaks me. You are moving back into the flat you were living in when we first met. You and your ex originally rented it but when you broke up and he moved out you were struggling to afford it on your own but you loved it so much you didn’t want to give it up, so I contacted your landlord and brought the flat for you. You were fuming and insisted on paying me rent but of course I never took it, I laugh about this memory of us. When you moved in with me, we rented it out and we kept the rent money for savings. I told you we didn’t need the savings but it was like you knew. At least I know you won’t need to worry about money for a little while.

I was stalking your socials for the past 6 months to see how you were getting on. You look like you were smashing life, I felt like a bit of a stalker but I had to know you were okay and succeeding like I always knew you would. When I saw that your company was up for the “Most Impactful Charity” award I had to be at this charity event. I spoke to my agent and they thought it would be an amazing idea, always great exposure being at a charity event. I talked Declan and some of the other boys to come with me so I didn’t need to make the trip on my own. That’s it I am going to see y/n.

The charity event is packed there must easily be over 150 people here. It’s gonna be a nightmare trying to find you. I spend the first hour taking photos and signing autographs and talking to others on our table. That’s when I look up and I see you, you looked absolutely drop dead gorgeous. You wore a long black maxi dress with a trail with gold specks throughout it. Your hair a lot blonder now and you let it grow longer, you had it curled, you know how much I loved your hair curled. You were all glammed up, had your lashes and nails down. You looked completely breathtaking. How am I going to find the courage to speak to you when you look like that? I am now not even listening to what the boys are saying my whole focus is on you, I love how you are laughing and joking with your team. You must be slightly drunk as you were always more sociable when you had a couple of drinks and you were definitely acting with a lot of confidence. That’s when Declan pulled me out of my trance. “Bro are you even listening to me?” I look at him I have no idea what he even said. He looks into the direction I am staring and then sees you. “Oh so this is the reason you wanted to drive 3 hours for a charity event, makes a lot of sense now!” “Come on Dec I need to try, I gotta talk to her man”. He looks at me with pity, I hate it. “Don’t you think if she wanted to talk to you she would of returned your 100s of phone calls and text messages you have left in the last 6 months”. I know he is right but I just cannot give up on you yet. “Just be careful alright Mase. I know it was your fault and you were the one who cheated but it broke you loosing y/n and I don’t want you going through that again”. I know he was right I just need to try.

The awards went well but I starting to get bored I just wanted it to finish so I could speak to you, that’s when your category came on. “Most Impactful Charity”. When they read out your companies name I was so proud, seeing your whole table erupt in applause and seeing that smile on your face was worth making the 3 hour drive. Even if I don’t get to speak to you, seeing that smile again for the first time in what feels like forever was so worth it. You dedicated the whole speech to the hard work your team did, eventhough I know it was the fact you probably worked until midnight every night but you were so humble and would never take recognition. You always put others first which is a trait I love about you.

After all the awards had been read out I could see your co worker signal for you to go outside. She was short with red hair, I think her name was Kelly but now I wish I paid more attention when you spoke to me about your team. I gave it a couple of mins then excused myself from the table. Declan mouthed a good luck as he knew exactly what I was doing.

As I walked outside I saw you and Kelly in conversation smoking a cigarette. You knew I always hated the habit, but you only smoked when you were stressed or drunk and you didn’t seem very stressed right now so must be drunk (which could be either very good or very bad for me right now). As I approach Kelly is the first to speak “OMG you are Mason Mount!” I laugh how she is pointing out the obvious. You look at me in pure shock, you look like you just seen a ghost as you are quickly putting out the fag to hide it from me. Kelly speaks again “my sons are your biggest fans they always supported Chelsea but when you moved to Man United they suddenly had to move teams” I laugh at that it’s always nice to hear about fans. “Could I please have an autograph for them they would like literally die”. As I nod you then suddenly run into the reception area to grab paper and a pen, being careful not to trip on your dress as you stumble, you definitely had one too many to drink tonight.

I signed the paper, and then you say to Kelly “did you want a picture?” Kelly turns to me to confirm which I nod and she passes y/n the phone. “Smile for the camera” you say. I am not smiling for the camera I am smiling for you. Kelly then turns to you “did you want a picture?” We both make a little laugh at that as she is so unaware of the events that had occurred between us. I turn to you and asked “have you got a minute?” Kelly looks between you both and excuses herself and thanked me for the autograph and picture. Your work didn’t know about our relationship you liked to keep things secret because apparently they are a massive gossip. Well Kelly is definitely going back to that table and gossiping she knows something is going on.

Now we are alone we both stand there staring at eachother. I have had planned for the last 6 months what I would say and now I am here I am mute. Nothing is coming out. All I can say is “you look incredible”. You blush and make that small smile that I love. “You don’t look too bad yourself Mr Mount” like you are trying to play casual. I can tell you are trying to be careful with this conversation. “Congratulations on the promotion and the award I knew you would be destined for great things, I am so proud of you”. You again say a little thank you and not replying much, I was about to give up on the conversation when you turned around and asked “ how’s your family doing?” I gave you a warm smile “they are good. Don’t get me wrong they still pissed with me, they miss you so much. They hate what I did to you. Mum says you still need to pop down and see her sometime she said she misses your baking”. You are smiling I can tell you are replying the memory of bringing the items you would bake anytime we would see my family and how much they would love it.

At this point Declan comes outside, I don’t even know how long we have been out here for. You looked shocked at seeing Declan, but your eyes light up and you give him the biggest hug. He got a better reception than me, but I guess I deserved that. “How’s things going?” You asked him, “I keep saying to Lauren I need to come down and see you guys soon, sorry work has just been manic at the moment”. Declan shakes his head and says “don’t worry about it if I knew you would be here tonight then I would have brought Lauren but unfortunately Mason decided to leave that part out. I just came out to make sure you haven’t killed him. I will leave you both to it”. At that Declan gives you a hug and kiss on the cheek and walks back inside. God I would give anything for that hug and kiss.

You were next to talk now “you knew I was going to be here? Why would you drive all the way down here Mason?”. I hated that you used my full name, “I had to talk to you, I had to see how you were doing. I saw the opportunity and I took it”. I can see you are trying to hold it together, I can see the tears starting to well up in your eyes. “I know I fucked up y/n and I know you probably will never ever forgive me but we haven’t spoken in 6 months I needed to speak to you.. so now I am here….” My head went blank everything I have been planning to say my mouth just cannot say it. Damn it I had this whole ‘winning you back speech’ and now I cannot remember it. “I needed to say your beautiful”. You looked down and laughed “you drove 3 hours and sat through a 2 hour rewards ceremony to tell me I am beautiful?”. “I had more just you are making me nervous standing there looking like that.. I guess all I can say is I love you y/n”.

You look at me with sadness in your eyes, I can feel my heart hurting when your eyes look like that. Your next actions shocked me. You walked all the way over to me, very clumsily I may add. You held your hands in mine, you were so close I could smell the alcohol and tabacoo on your breath. My heart was pounding in my chest it felt like it would rip out. You place the longest kiss on my cheek. I didn’t want it to end. You look me dead in my eyes, hands still in mine. “I will always love you Mase no matter what”. You called me Mase do I still have a chance? “But you broke me, you did the worst thing you could ever do to me and didn’t even have the balls to tell me the truth I had to find out the way I did. It was shit Mase, if I did that to you how would you feel?” It was a rhetorical question we both knew I would of kicked up a storm, probably go find the man you slept well and god knows what. My blood boiled just thinking about it. Maybe I don’t have a chance?

“You said you love me?” I asked now so confused about your feelings. “Yes Mase I always will but getting over you was the hardest thing I ever had to do.” I can see you starting to break. One tear slipped down your cheek and you have now let go of my hands and walked back to your previous position. “Look I really cannot do this right now, tonight is suppose to be a good night I don’t need you to ruin it, I spent enough nights crying over you”. There you go my heart shattered again. I don’t know what I expect to happen but this wasn’t it. I wanted you to run in my arms and tell me it will all be okay but deep down I knew in reality that was never gonna happen. You start to shiver due to the sudden drop in temperature outside, I look at you with concern. “Did you want my jacket?” I offer and start taking it off. You quickly shack your head and explain “I probably need to go back inside, my work are probably wondering well the hell I am” rubbing your arms to try and stay warm and try and give me that reassurance smile.

“Look after yourself Mase”, there is so much light in your eyes I just love you so much, you blow me a kiss and start to walk back inside. “Y/n wait!”. I shout as you turn around quickly. “We got a big game next weekend, like massive. Gaffer is finally letting me start after weeks of not even giving me game time. I could really do with my lucky charm?” I give you a little wink. You stand there still, I can see a 100 things are going on inside your head right now. “Look you don’t need to decide right now just promise me you will think about it” I reassure you. You give me that little smile back “I promise I will think about it Mase”.

Then you walk away, at least this time with your back to me walking in the opposite direction it’s different. This time there is hope.

[summercreolefanfictioner]

the scent wafts in, her name making him beg on his knees chap 4 || touya x fem!oc [modern au]

chapter summary: Shouto finds out about a secret she held from Touya. Meanwhile, Touya recalls a certain darkness within himself.

themes: mentions of unplanned pregnancy, sex, ED, SA, abuse, violence, etc. (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

notes: I haven't updated for so long 'cause I got busy with attending social events and life 😭

masterlist

Shouto took in the apartment where she lived as the woman silently prepared tea in the kitchen. It was a decent apartment, nonetheless. There was no tarnished paint or specks of dust in sight. Everything was well kept, and the place smelled so good that you would think you were in a 5-star hotel. What caught his eye was his brother's picture frame on this one table at the corner by the couch. It was Touya sitting on a bench at the park while sipping his iced coffee. If one would look closely, there were still dark specks at his brother's hair roots. It was like he had his hair freshly dyed in white.

"I hope green tea is to your liking," she mumbled, settling the tray on the table as she noticed Shouto's line of attention.

Shouto quickly turned to her and bowed slightly. "I don't mind," he replied as Kaori sat on the couch beside him.

"Umm..." She picked up her cup to warm herself, remembering how she secretly took that picture of Touya even if she had no idea if he was fond of having pictures taken of him or not. "I had no other pictures of Touya in my phone, so that was the first thing I took. I think he looks so good there."

Shouto took a sip of his tea. "Oh."

Silence. What should she do? It has been a while since she last heard of an update from Touya. The last night they were together was bliss. Kaori could even compare it to the feeling of finally reaching heaven because, for the first time, Touya opened himself up to her. He told her who he really was. Todoroki Touya, the oldest son of Todoroki Enji (CEO of Endeavor Corp.) and Todoroki Rei (one of the most famous models in Japan). He ran away at the age of 19 and fend for himself, doing odd jobs until he met her and she took him in without question. Touya told her meeting her was the best thing that happened ever since he left home, that she was his miracle of some sort in his own hell.

He just didn't tell her personally that he had to leave for her sake. She understood why he couldn't. If he did, it would make it harder for him to leave. He had seen her cry many times before, but that time was different, and leaving the person he loved the most would hurt him. Of course, she hurt too. Her world was suddenly put to a halt, not knowing how to start a life without Touya being physically there, and only the letter he left for her was her reminder that he would still come back. Nonetheless, it was still hard; not to mention the fact that she found out later that she was 3 weeks pregnant with his child.

So when his youngest brother came to personally deliver his letter, it came to her as a relief—that Touya was serious about wanting to be together with her; that he was still working on himself so he could be the man she deserved. But, this doesn't mean she was not having second thoughts, especially now that there was a human living inside her body.

"How is he?" she asked nervously.

"Touya-nii is doing fine. I don't know about anything else but he's doing his best to combat his addiction," Shouto replied truthfully. "He only started writing to us after his 4-month stay there, and he didn't write too much after, so that's what we only know."

She imagined Touya probably lashing out on his own as he battled within himself to fight his alcohol and cigarette dependency, but she also believed he would manage out there. After all, he said in his first letter that he would do everything just to be with her again, and if his words were true, he would make sure of it.

"How far along?" This time, it was Shouto's turn to ask. Honestly, it was shocking for him to find out about her pregnancy, and he kind of worried about her since all his eldest brother knew was, she was handling herself all alone. It's not a good thing considering she's carrying his nephew inside her.

"6... turning 7," she answered meekly, trying not to break down or her negative feelings might affect her child.

"Does he know?"

Her awkward silence already gave it away for him, though. So Touya-nii doesn't know. And when she mentioned the number of months, Shouto had to do a quick calculation in his head before he deduced when it all started.

The day before he returned? Or maybe a few days before he returned? Shouto gave a brief glance at her who worriedly placed a hand on her belly and sighed. It would be bad for her to see Touya-nii since she's pregnant. The additional stress from the treatment center will be too much.

"Do you want to tell him?"

She nodded, but she was still hesitant about it as she fiddled with her skirt and mustered the courage to speak what was in her mind.

"Can you please not tell Touya about this?" she requested. "I know this is important for him too, but you see... I..." This was embarrassing; she should be ashamed. "This pregnancy... I... it shouldn't happen in the first place. It's my mistake."

Shoto's mind went blank as a rush of painful memories flooded in, triggered by her words. It was a stark reminder of the hardships he and his siblings endured during their childhood.

The pregnancy... it shouldn't happen... The pregnancy... is a mistake?

Upon seeing his crest-fallen face, she immediately tried to clear things up, aware of Touya's painful childhood with his siblings. "I didn't mean it like that, S-Shouto-kun! It's just that... I wasn't supposed to be... pregnant. Y-Yeah, that was it."

Shouto was relieved, and to think he thought she might still be considering abortion.

"Touya deserves to know his son with me," she started, "but the thing is... I forgot my pill intake, hence my pregnancy. I-I know it's my fault for being stupid, and I just don't want to push the responsibility on him."

Shouto took in her words, carefully analyzing them. Well, it's a good thing it wasn't as grave as their parents' situation before. But still, this was a delicate situation.

"Understood. I won't tell him anything."

"T-Thank you."

Then he added, "Just so you know..."

"Hm?"

"I don't think Touya-nii would think of it as a mistake."

She was confused. "Oh... okay."

"If it's any consolation, you did it together."

She wanted to cry at his words. Of course, he was a Todoroki. This shouldn't surprise her if Shouto had the same foul mouth as Touya, even though the youngest Todoroki only meant to comfort her.

"And... can I have a request?"

"Yes?"

"Can I take a picture of you? Just a proof to Touya-nii that I went here."

"But..."

"Only your face will do."

In a few seconds, she composed herself as Shouto readied his phone camera.

"Smile."

Snap.

------

Touya scrutinized the picture in his hand, eyes narrowing into slits and one could see the slight distaste as Shouto only sat in front of him like he did nothing wrong. Well, it was a good picture of her with a soft smile on her face, but the thing is, the picture kind of felt forced. Well, it was a given since Touya hadn't formally introduced her to his family.

But still...

"I don't think it's blurred though," Shouto pointed out seriously.

"What do you think of me? Blind?" Touya retorted in annoyance. "But why is she looking like she's posing for an ID?"

Shouto tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Touya waved off in negation, not wanting to elaborate on the topic. "Did she say anything?"

"Like what?"

Touya got a bit flustered, looking away from his brother to hide the blush creeping on his face. "Like... you know..."

Shouto was only dumbfounded. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Touya grumbled. So much for relying on his youngest brother when he doesn't understand basic things in life. "Never mind. Just wanna know if she was doing okay."

"She's..." She's pregnant; almost 7 months in. "She's doing okay. She had only been eating snacks and fruits when I met her."

Touya couldn't hide his surprise as he made this unexpected discovery, which immediately caught his attention and made Shouto more alert and aware.

"Is something wrong, Touya-nii?"

"She... doesn't eat anything aside from soup."

Touya could remember her eating routine and it was so hellish she might even survive by just living off water. She had been a tad insecure when she first learned about her ex cheating on her, so she decided to lose weight and fit his standards. But she knew she wouldn't be able to, so she was left with a hidden eating disorder, making her reject all kinds of food given to her, except for soup. Anything filled with broth was the only way she would eat food.

He found this trait later on when he decided to order pizza for them, only for her not even to finish a slice and puke it all out in disgust, crying to him that she couldn't eat as much as she did before. To this day, cursing and ruining her ex's life (even when he was out of the picture) had become his golden dream that he swore if he ever saw him again, he'd have him begging for his life.

"Is that... bad?" Shouto pondered. "I mean, soup is good."

"So... what was she eating?" Touya quickly reverted the topic to the food.

"She drank green tea and ate 2 whole oranges. Then she snacked on pumpkin seeds."

Touya smiled fondly at that. "That's a relief then."

------

Touya had almost reached the 8-month mark in the treatment center when he decided that the best way to shut himself off from the rest of the world was in the library, reading through the random books he could find. Most of them were self-help books and a few Christian ones for those who prefer reading the bible. But honestly, Touya got so bored of them that he opted for that mini section with science and math, solving the equations in every subject exercise like he did whenever he skipped classes.

Being one of the top performers back then made his name so prominent that students were either amazed or intimated by him, whispers following him around along with the name of his parents. Well, what could he expect? His father was one of the richest guys in Japan, and his mom was one of the most famous models of her generation. Gossip and media would really follow him and his siblings around like a damn plague.

As he was busy with his own time, the door suddenly slid open and a boy entered looking scared, only to sigh in relief and mumble, "It's a man." Judging from the bruises and the way he was covering his skin with his long sleeves, Touya already had an idea, and it reminded him of the old days. As such, he stood up, taking the book with him and exiting the library.

The boy felt a bit ashamed by this, but before he could go out the door, he grabbed a random adult coloring book and a set of colored pencils to cure his boredom and finally left the place.

------

Touya was in his room, eating his cigarette candies as he was busy coloring the pages of the adult coloring book, shading the random pictures as he recalled in his head all the jobs he had taken and how they all affected him in some way. To be honest, it opened a whole new world for him, making him see much more painful things in life than the things his father did to him.

He got his first job from a senpai from his school, diligently working in a convenience store as their cashier. So far, it was a tame job and he could pay off his rent and get to eat 3 meals a day. It wasn't enough for him to buy him his alcohol and cigarettes though. After all, he wasn't the same rich kid he was before, so money had been an issue for him as a high school dropout. So at night, he would take a part-time job at the nearest warehouse, checking inventory of every item to be delivered and helping out in carrying boxes to trucks. When his day job wasn't paying well, he shifted to a logistics company where he was assigned as a staff member to deliver items via motorcycle. He was secretly glad he learned how to ride bikes by constantly being in the arcade with a few "friends" from school (Who was he kidding, though? They weren't friends. They were pawns he used to keep up the good son facade.)

When he got tired of doing two jobs at once, that's when a random guy from work told him there was an opening for an assistant bartender job at a certain host bar at the Red District, something along the lines of: "You won't be a host there. You'll just be trained to mix drinks and serve them to the guests, that's all." Touya was skeptical about it at first, but he badly needed the money, and he was craving for some rest in between so he took a shot. Truth be told, he was just really trained to assist the bartender in making the drinks.

It was only that until there was an opportunity.

------

"Do you think sex is fun?" Touya suddenly asked his therapist, who seemingly paused from taking notes on his file.

"Come again?" The therapist heard what he said. He just had to make sure he heard it right before answering.

Touya sighed. "I said, do you think sex is fun?"

The therapist put down his file on his desk, clearing his throat to feign his embarrassment. It was unusual for Touya to ask questions so might as well provide an appropriate answer for that.

"It depends on the experience and with whom I did it with," he supplied. "If both people are communicating with each other properly and making sure each other's needs are met, then I think it would be a fun experience."

Touya stared blankly, probably seeing through his answer and thinking if it was right or wrong. Maybe he wanted an honest answer. He didn't know since the eldest Todoroki son was not giving hints on what was going on in his mind.

"I didn't think of sex as fun though," he revealed.

"And why is that?"

Touya shrugged nonchalantly. "Sex for me is a chore."

"Does this have something to do with your job at the host club?"

"Partly." A pause. "I don't know."

"So why is sex for you a chore?"

Silence. Touya was collecting his thoughts, and he thinks maybe he was the weird fucker who doesn't think of sex being equal to satisfaction or pleasure. Well, not until with her, of course. But for him, in general, it was a chore.

"I actually worked as an assistant bartender in a host club, and customers thought I was part of the club's gig where the host acts as a bartender," he started his story, the awful memories coming back into pieces was enough to leave a foul taste at the tip of his tongue. "The owner thought it would be nice if I could be a host during Mondays and Fridays—on a condition that a customer cannot choose which host she wanted for the night."

"So you're like the secret host of the club in case they cannot choose who they wanna be with," the therapist deduced.

"Yes."

"So how did sex becoming a chore for you is related to this?"

And then, Touya opened Pandora's box and the darkness he held inside him.

next chap

masterlist

tagging: @rueclfer @crookedherringcolorclod @suksatoru @skiiyoomin @allurearia @m-4399

[ghosttotheparty]

come crawling faster

read on AO3

Eddie’s rings are clean of blood when he wakes up.

It doesn’t occur to him until later, as he’s laying in bed trying to sleep, that someone must have cleaned the for him, and the thought twirls the air around him like a tornado. He inspects them in the moonlight, and there isn’t a speck of blood or dirt even in the deepest crevices of them. He smiles at the ceiling in the dark.

Everyone is happy that he’s okay. They all hug him gently, careful and mindful of the stitches holding him together, of the IV in his arm, of the way his head aches like he’s hungover. All their voices are low and their hands gentle, and Robin and Nancy bring clothes for him to wear that aren’t cold hospital gowns. Dustin cries, and Eddie thinks that for a few minutes while Eddie holds him, he’s turned back into the little boy he was before he was shoved into the whole mess of the Upside Down.

They all update him on everything that’s happened since he’s been out. Max is okay, with healing arms and glasses almost thicker than the bottoms of Coke bottles. Erica and Lucas are okay. Dustin’s leg is healing, but he’ll have to use a cane. Mike is back from Lenora, with a girl named Eleven and Will and Jonathan, and some guy named Argyle.

He sees all their smiles.

Except Steve.

Steve doesn’t smile. Not once.

He stands in the corner and watches everyone talking, his arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the wall like a broody movie villain, and a few times when Eddie looks in his direction, he’s already looking back. Frowning. Or he’s looking at the ground like he’s bored, like he doesn’t want to be here at all.

And every time it makes Eddie’s chest tighten, so he squares his shoulders and widens his smile and looks away, back to whoever is talking. He’s actually struggling to follow along as their voices overlap, and he thinks maybe he’s just tired, because when Robin speaks, he looks toward Eleven for a moment, and he accidentally calls Dustin Lucas’s name.

They all say goodbye when they leave. The kids all hug him gently again, along with Robin and Nancy. Argyle and Jonathan smile.

Steve doesn’t say goodbye.

Eddie tries not to let it get under his skin, but it gnaws away at him like teeth as he stares up at the ceiling. How easily Steve left, like he doesn’t even know Eddie. How he was almost glaring at Eddie the whole time. How he didn’t even seem slightly happy that Eddie was alive.

He only sees Steve a few times while he’s in the hospital, because Steve drives the kids to visit. If it were up to Steve, Eddie doesn’t think he’d even show up. It’s still under Eddie’s skin.

Days go by.

The government pulls some strings. Eddie’s murder charges are dropped. He’s released from the hospital but only with a security guard that’s armed with a gun just in case. Eddie goes home to Wayne.

Home is different now. An apartment in town, small and a little run-down, but it has two bedrooms and more hot water than the trailer. And there aren’t any bloodstains on the ceiling.

Eddie helps Wayne put up his mugs around the kitchen, and his hats in the living room. Wayne chides him gently. You’re gonna pull your stitches, Eds, I got it. But Eddie’s tired of doing nothing, of laying in bed and staring at the ceiling, trying to think up new campaign ideas only to be distracted wondering what’s going on with Steve. So he keeps helping. And he cleans, and decorates his own room with posters and photos and banners that someone packed while he was in his coma.

He has to go back to the hospital several times, accompanied by Wayne. To remove the stitches on his cheek, then the stitches on his arms and legs, then the stitches on his sides and chest. Eddie hates getting stitches removed.

He’s covered in scars, all pink and disfigured, tender and sensitive. The scars on his sides are almost indented, his skin no longer smooth and soft. The one on his cheek is jagged. He avoids looking in mirrors. He wears long sleeve shirts, even though the weather is getting warmer.

He doesn’t go back to school even though he has the option to. He doesn’t want to be looked at. And he doesn’t really care anymore. There are bigger things to worry about than fucking Ms O’Donnell’s class. (Like what’s going on with Steve.)

Wayne goes back to work. The kids go back to school. The town seems to get used to Eddie. He still gets glares from people, and he looks back. He doesn’t hide the scar on his face or the one around his neck. They leave him alone.

The living room of the apartment becomes their new D&D place. Steve drives the kids over and picks them up. He doesn’t come upstairs. None of the kids say anything about. And this thing between Steve and Eddie becomes a quiet, unspoken thing that no one even glances at. It’s not the unspoken thing Eddie had hoped for when he opened his eyes in the hospital, blinded by the sun on the white walls and another chance at life. It’s the opposite of what he’d hoped for.

A month goes by.

Mike and Eleven break up, and that weird tension that was always present around them disappears. (Eddie always thought Mike talked about Will more than he talked about El at school anyway.) Nancy and Jonathan break up too. The day after, they both look happier than Eddie’s seen them before.

Eddie has some parts of his life back. He goes over to Gareth’s for band practice, and he decides he prefers how his guitar looks in this dimension, how it shines in the sun. He also decides that life is better when he’s not in high school. He’s going to try to get a job this summer, at a car shop or something. Wherever will hire him.

It’s been three weeks since he and Steve have seen each other. Or, he supposes, since he’s seen Steve. Steve didn’t look at him. It was like Eddie wasn’t there. It made him feel gross in a way he’s never felt, like his skin didn’t fit right, like it was bunched up and twisted, and he wanted to rip it off and set it on fire. And scream. Because he was mad.

Because even if Steve doesn’t feel the same way about him, Eddie thought they were friends. Or at least friendly. Eddie almost died, and Steve hasn’t said a single word to him.

So yeah. Eddie is mad.

But he’s pissed when he sees Steve at the grocery store, and their eyes meet across the stand of fruit they’re both at, and Steve just… looks down. Picks up an apple. Squeezes it.

And walks away.

Eddie is pissed.

More pissed than he’s ever been in his life. His blood feels like it’s boiling in his veins, like he’s being burned alive, and he can’t breathe, and he puts his basket down and leaves the store. (Usually he’d take the time to pay, or put the few items in the basket back. But he thinks that if he tries to do either, he’ll lose his mind.)

He goes to the parking lot. Sits in the driver seat of his van for a few minutes, staring at the gray sky as his hands shake and his knee bounces against the steering wheel, trying to figure out what exactly was in Steve’s eyes when he looked at him. They were awfully blank, but he looked… anxious. His eyes were a little too wide, his jaw a little too firm.

The sky darkens as Eddie stares at it.

He’s still pissed. He’s still shaking.

His keys rattle as he turns the van on, and his breath trembles as he drives, the windshield wipers on as it starts to rain. And then he’s at the Harrington mansion, and he wants to drive off a cliff, because what the fuck is he doing here?

He turns off the van and stares at the house. At all the windows. The downstairs lights are on. Eddie wonders if Steve is scared of the dark too.

It’s almost pouring when Eddie gets to the front doorstep and rings the doorbell before he knocks five times, hard. The door swings open a few moments later, and Steve is beautiful even Eddie’s angry at him.

His brows are furrowed in confusion, but his face relaxes back into that horrible blankness when he realises it’s Eddie.

Eddie stares at him. Steve stares back.

For a while. In silence, except the pouring rain. Eddie’s eyes look back and forth between Steve’s, who holds the door so tightly Eddie thinks he’s going to slam it shut.

And Eddie wants to hear him talk.

And Eddie is stubborn. He’s had great practice being stubborn. So he doesn’t speak, or move, or even breathe too hard even though his hands are still trembling, until Steve finally exhales and steps back.

“Get out of the rain.”

“Oh, he speaks!” Eddie exclaims, and he knows he’s being bitchy, but he doesn’t care. He kicks his shoes off, nudging them into a corner as Steve shuts the door heavily and steps into the kitchen that’s bigger than Eddie’s living room.

“What the fuck?” Eddie bursts as he follows him, watching him lean casually against a counter and cross his arms over his chest. He’s wearing a red sweater that looks criminally good on him, but Eddie doesn’t let it distract him.

“What the fuck,” Steve repeats dryly.

“You wanna fuckin’ tell me why you’ve barely fucking looked at me in the past goddamn month?”

Eddie has a swearing problem. It was the cause of a lot of his detention visits in high school, because he can’t help it. When he gets frustrated or annoyed or angry, his language gets colourful. Usually he regrets the words as he’s saying them, sometimes because he knows he’s gonna wind up in Peterson’s room after the bell rings with a pink slip in hand, and sometimes because the person he’s talking to doesn’t really deserve to be talked to like that. Because he’s not mad or frustrated with them, they just happen to be in the line of fire.

But not Steve.

Steve is the fucking target.

Eddie is already breathing hard as Steve looks away, his tongue sliding over his teeth in his closed mouth, seething.

“Harrington.”

Steve’s eyes snap up him, dark and gleaming like a predator’s. His voice is rough when he speaks.

“Because I’m pissed at you.”

“Well, Christ,” Eddie says loudly. “What a development.” His stomach aches, like he’s sick at the thought of Steve being mad at him. “You wanna tell me why?”

Steve is quiet for a moment before he stands up straight off the counter, uncrossing his arms, staring so hard at Eddie that his nose might start bleeding.

“I told you,” he says evenly, pointing at Eddie with two loose fingers, “not to be a hero.”

“Harrington—“

“And you nodded,” Steve interrupts, his pointing fingers stabbing the air between them. “You agreed, and I believed you.” His voice is loud, but shaking, Eddie wants to cry. He wants to burn his skin. “So I left you with my kid and I came back to find you fucking bleeding out in his arms.”

“What, so you’re mad that I almost died?”

“I’m mad that you went back!” And Eddie wants to die, because Steve is yelling now, but it’s still better than the silence he’s gotten. “I’m mad that you didn’t fucking run!”

Eddie’s eyes are burning, and his lips are pursed in a frown, and Steve’s hand falls.

“Why didn’t you run?” he asks brokenly, and Eddie realises the predatory gleam in his eyes is just tears.

“I ran from Chrissy,” Eddie says as strong to as he can. “I wasn’t gonna run again.”

“Anybody would have run from that, Eddie,” Steve yells. He leans forward in emphasis, and he looks like he’s going to cry. “You weren’t a coward, you were human. You didn’t have to fucking— make up for it.”

Eddie stares, blinking tears back, pursing his lips when his chin quivers.

“I’m pissed at you,” Steve says, leaning against the counter again. He’s breathing hard. His hands are shaking too. “Because you lied to me.”

He takes a deep, unsteady breath.

“And because—“ He chokes, swallowing. “Because you didn’t think that obviously Dustin was gonna follow you back. And I don’t— Jesus, Eddie, I don’t care if you don’t give a shit about your life, it’s not— not fucking fair.” His voice breaks on the last word, and Eddie’s chest feels like it’s been ripped open.

“The fuck’s that mean,” he says quietly. His whole body hurts. He thinks maybe Steve’s hands could make it feel better, but what are the chances Steve is going to touch him gently right now?

“I know you knew what was gonna happen, Eddie,” Steve says, his voice even, lethal.

Eddie’s stomach twists, and his breath catches in his throat, because he didn’t think he’d have to talk about this. He didn’t think anyone knew.

Steve stares at him, his eyes fucking piercing into Eddie, like he’s trying to see his bones.

“And I don’t care if you didn’t care,” Steve says firmly, his eyes shining brightly, his lip quivering. “It’s not— It’s not fair.”

The air feels tight, almost smoke-filled, like there’s a fire they’re both ignoring.

“Your life,” Steve says slowly, loudly, his eyes trained on Eddie like he’s worried he’s going to run, “is not yours to just throw away.”

“So, what, it’s yours?” Eddie snaps like he’s offended.

“Yes,” Steve yells roughly.

And the smoke clears.

Eddie’s eyes are wide, and his hands are shaking, and Steve’s eyes are wide, and his hands are shaking too. He’s breathing hard, his brows furrowed, and his lip quivers as he stammers silently.

“It’s mine,” he says finally, his voice breaking. “And Dustin’s. And Lucas’s, and Mike’s and Wayne’s, and everyone else on this goddamn planet that cares about you.”

And Eddie’s chest feels like it’s hallowing out. Like Steve is carving his flesh and bone away with a knife. His eyes watch a tear fall from Steve’s eye to the floor, landing on the tile.

“What about you?” Eddie asks, still angry.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Steve snaps, his face hard as he almost glares at Eddie, his eyes still glistening. Eddie glares back, his brows furrowed, and he inhales slowly. The room is silent except the rain pounding on the roof, on the glass windows, except his and Steve’s stuttered breathing.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, Steve,” Eddie says coldly.

Steve looks like Eddie’s slapped him.

“The kids told me about how you threw yourself at a raging psychopath,” Eddie says.

“That was—“

“And how in the same night you threw yourself in front of a pack of demodogs with nothing but a baseball bat.”

“That—“

“Nancy and Jonathan told me about how Nancy forced you leave at gunpoint,” Eddie says, his voice louder, moving closer without even noticing. His voice is shaking. “And you still went back.”

Steve stares. His eyes are wide, and he looks angrier than Eddie’s ever seen him, and even though there’s a pit of fear in Eddie’s stomach, he persists.

“And we all know about how you stayed behind to be interrogated, and tortured and damn near killed by those Russians.” Eddie’s almost yelling now, tears sparking his own eye as he gestures to Steve in anger, in outrage, in pain and love and everything else that’s swirling in his carved out chest like a hurricane.

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie screams, finally breaking. His throat hurts. “You think those people don’t care about you?” he yells, gesturing aimlessly toward the door. “You think we don’t love you?”

He’s panting, almost numb with adrenaline and rage. His vision is blurry, but he doesn’t know if it’s because of the anger or if he’s crying. He ignores it.

“You have no right to lecture me on this when you and I both know you would have done the same thing in a heartbeat.”

And then Steve’s hand is grasping the front of Eddie’s shirt, and the breath is knocked from Eddie’s lungs as his back slams into the wall so hard he thinks it might be dented. He gasps for breath, and Steve’s face is too close to his, and this close he can see specks of green in his eyes, and he can see every tear that’s clinging to his eyelashes. And even when he’s radiating anger, he’s the most beautiful man Eddie’s ever seen.

“You gonna hit me, Stevie?” Eddie says even though he still can’t really breathe. Steve doesn’t say anything. His fist is gripping Eddie’s shirt so tightly it might rip, his knuckles pressing into Eddie’s chest so hard it hurts.

Eddie’s never been good at knowing when to keep his mouth shut.

“You don’t get to be angry at me,” he says quietly, almost breathing the words. “Not when we’re exactly the same.”

Steve’s knuckles press even harder.

His lip is trembling, and Eddie’s eyes flick across his face, at his glassy eyes, and flushed cheeks, and the moles spotting his skin like stars, and he kisses him.

He pulls away just as quickly as he leaned in, his body flooding with heat as he realises what he’s just done, but Steve’s face doesn’t change. Still angry, seething, and the world is on fire, crushed under tidal waves and hurricanes and God’s wrath, and it’s Eddie’s fault. His eyes sting like there are chemicals in them, and he breathes out a soft shit before he tries to shove past Steve to escape before he can die.

Of course he’d survive this long, survive being beaten by a drunk before his bones were done growing, survive being the target of a witch hunt by townspeople with guns, survive being eaten alive by demonic bats, only to die untouched. Because he kissed a boy without thinking.

But Steve’s hand tightens on Eddie’s shirt, and he pushes Eddie back against the wall roughly. Eddie whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut, flinching, and a few seconds pass before something presses to his forehead. He opens his eyes hesitantly.

Steve’s eyes are closed, his forehead on Eddie’s, and his hand releases the fabric of his shirt, his palm pressing, fingers spreading over Eddie’s chest.

Eddie’s eyes burn, and he inhales sharply, trying desperately not to cry. His hands are hanging by his sides, trembling.

Steve pulls away after a moment, and all the anger is gone from his face. His eyes are almost closed, still glassy, and he looks exhausted, like he’s going to fall apart. But his hand is still steady on Eddie, pressed firmly.

“Don’t think I’m not still mad at you,” Steve says so quietly the words almost get lost in the sound of the rain.

“Steve,” Eddie breathes.

Steve leans in and kisses him.

Softly, chastely, just barely catching his lower lip. Eddie can’t tell if his heart is even beating anymore, and his hands raise hesitantly as Steve does it again, slowly slowly slowly moving to touch Steve’s waist. His sweater is soft.

Steve’s other hand lifts and holds Eddie’s cheek so gently he can barely feel it on the mangled, sensitive skin of the ragged scar. And then their breaths are mixing as Steve presses his open mouth Eddie’s, and his tongue is slipping across Eddie’s lip and into his mouth. Eddie leans against the wall, his hands tightening on Steve’s waist, as his knees weaken.

The kiss doesn’t last long, because Steve is crying. Gasping for breath, holding Eddie tighter. Squeezing his eyes shut. Falling against Eddie.

Eddie slides his hands to Steve’s back, holding him close. His throat tightens, and he closes his eyes, suppressing a sob as he feels Steve’s shoulders shake.

“Don’t be mad,” Eddie says weakly, his voice wobbling, too high, too thin. Steve lifts his head, looking at him desperately.

“I can’t not be mad at you, Eddie,” he says. His voice is the same as Eddie’s. There are tears on his cheeks. Eddie wipes them away. “You lied to me,” he chokes. “You lied to me.” His hand curls into a fist that hits Eddie’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says softly, moving a hand to hold Steve’s fist against himself. Steve falls against him, his face in Eddie’s neck, and Eddie wraps his arms around his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Steve’s arms wrap around Eddie’s waist, pulling him away from the wall, so tight that Eddie gasps, and he sobs loudly, trembling.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, crying, and he slides down the wall, holding Steve to himself tightly, and Steve is wailing into Eddie’s neck, sobbing and shaking and gripping Eddie so hard he’ll probably bruise. Eddie’s back is to the wall, his arms around Steve’s neck, his face buried in his hair. He’s getting it wet with his tears, but it doesn’t really matter. His own hair is still wet from the rain.

Eddie is still apologising. He doesn’t even think Steve can understand him, because his own voice is so broken and tear soaked, and because Steve is sobbing like a child.

I lost you.

“No, you didn’t,” Eddie manages to say, shifting so his mouth is by Steve’s ear. “I’m right here, I’m okay.”

Steve cries into Eddie’s neck. Eddie’s skin is wet with his tears. The collar of his shirt is probably soaked. But he doesn’t care.

Steve’s sobbing turns into that awful hiccuping gasping sort of crying, and Eddie pulls away enough to kiss his forehead and hold his face.

“‘M right here,” he murmurs. There are tears in his own face that ignores.

Steve is leaning against him, his legs sprawled on the kitchen floor, and Eddie tugs him closer, wiping away his tears.

But Steve doesn’t ignore Eddie’s tears. He messily wipes them away before he clutches to Eddie’s face, his other hand grasping Eddie’s forearm tightly. His chest is rising and falling with every quick, gasping breath, and Eddie swallows his own tears as he looks at him, at his rosy, tear-streaked cheeks and running nose and chapped lips, and he wonders how long Steve’s been holding this all back.

“I’m here, Stevie.”

Steve looks at him. His eyes are glassy and exhausted again. Eddie wants him to go to sleep. Preferably in Eddie’s arms.

“Thirteen days, Eddie,” Steve says weakly. His voice rasps, dry and overused, and it sends a knife through Eddie’s heart.

“I know,” he breathes. “‘M sorry, Stevie.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut as his breathing finally slows, reaching to find Eddie’s wrist, and Eddie feels lightheaded when Steve’s fingers press into his pulse.

It’s not until Steve’s breathing is slow that Eddie finally detaches them, helps Steve up, and gets him a glass of water. After Steve gulps it all down, Eddie stretches the sleeve of his shirt over his fingers and steps closer to Steve, touching chin and using his sleeve to wipe his skin, under his nose and eyes and over his cheeks.

Steve’s eyes close, and he sways with the movements until Eddie’s hand pulls at his shoulder, and he falls against Eddie, exhaling heavily.

“‘M sorry,” Steve says softly after a few moments. His hands slide over Eddie’s waist.

“You don’t have to apologise,” Eddie murmurs, because the last thing he wants is Steve feeling like he can’t cry in front of Eddie.

“No, I was mean,” Steve says, almost whining, looking into Eddie’s eyes. He looks like he might start crying again. Eddie touches his cheek. “I was angry, I should have— I should have talked to you, you didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie breathes, his voice accompanied by the quiet rumble of thunder outside.

“No, it’s not,” Steve says weakly, his hands gripping Eddie’s shirt. “‘S not okay, Eddie.”

“Okay, fine,” Eddie says, sighing and brushing his thumb over Steve’s cheek softly. “You were an asshole. I forgive you.”

Steve’s eyes close and he falls forward, his forehead pressing to the side of Eddie’s neck, and Eddie threads his fingers through Steve’s hair gently.

“God, I missed you,” he says softly. “How’d I miss you so much?”

Steve’s arms wrap around Eddie’s waist tightly. Eddie brushes through his hair.

“Stay,” Steve says softly, his breath warm in Eddie’s neck. “Don’t want you to go.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. His body aches.

“I won’t go, Stevie.”

Carefully, hesitantly, he shifts and reaches down to Steve’s legs, tugging at his thighs until Steve exhales and nods, moving his arms to wrap around his neck. Eddie picks him up easily, smiling when Steve’s legs wrap around his hips, and Steve clings to him desperately as Eddie moves out of the kitchen, following the hallway until he finds the unreasonably large living room. He slowly lowers Steve to the sofa and then he lowers himself on top of Steve when Steve’s grip on him doesn’t relax.

“I’m sorry,” Steve breathes after a few moments. Eddie shifts to press a kiss to his neck.

“I know. Me too.” He pauses for a moment, then moves so his cheek rests on Steve’s chest. “I meant it, you know.”

“Meant what?”

Eddie hesitates, moving a hand to press to Steve’s chest in front of his face, feeling the soft knit of his sweater.

“We love you.”

Steve’s arms tighten, and Eddie feels his chest rise and fall as he takes a deep breath.

“You know we love you too, right?” Steve says softly. Lightning flashes outside, far away and soft. Eddie closed his eyes, pressing his hand to his chest.

“Kinda unbelievable,” he says quietly. Thunder rumbles.

“‘S true,” Steve says. “Even if you don’t believe it.”

Eddie presses his face into his chest, inhaling. He smells like laundry detergent and cologne, and like something that oddly familiar. Nostalgic. Eddie inhales again.

“Did you visit while I was under?” he asks quietly. Steve sighs.

“Could barely keep me away,” he say softly. “Worst thirteen days of my fucking life.” He takes a breath, sliding a hand to press over Eddie’s on his chest. He’s so warm. “Just held your hand ‘nd waited.”

Eddie laces their fingers, squeezing.

“Left to the bathroom in the hospital to clean your rings,” Steve says, his voice thin. Eddie opens his eyes. “The lights kept flickering, and I didn’t even care, I just… needed to clean them.”

Eddie lifts his head and looks down at him, his throat tight.

“That was you?”

Steve nods, his eyes shining as he looks up at him. His hair has fallen around his head like a halo. His cheeks are still rose, his eyelashes dark with tears like he’s wearing makeup.

“Couldn’t stand the thought of you… waking up with blood on your rings,” he says softly, one of his hands combing through Eddie’s curls that have fallen like curtains. “I don’t know. ‘S kinda dumb in the grand scheme of things.”

Eddie shakes his head, sniffling as his eyes burn.

“It’s not dumb, Stevie,” he says shakily. Steve’s fingers press to his cheek. “Thank you.”

Steve smiles softly, weakly, touching Eddie’s hair, and a tear falls from Eddie’s eye to Steve’s cheek, near his mouth. A soft laugh escapes Steve, and Eddie apologises, smiling, watching Steve blur. He starts to shift to wipe the tear away from Steve’s skin, but Steve beats him to it, wiping the tear with the tip of his middle finger before he brings the finger to his own lips, licking the tear off. Eddie scoffs.

“And they call me the freak.”

Steve smiles. His eyes are shining too.

“Kiss me,” he breathes.

Eddie leans down and kisses him. He can taste the salt of his own tear in his mouth, and he tilts his head to kiss him deeper, groaning softly. Steve’s hands spread over his back, holding him so their bodies press together completely, before they slide to hold his head, his fingers curling into his hair.

The sound of rain outside fades like it’s being muffled as Eddie kisses him, as he listens to the quiet, weak noises escaping Steve’s throat, to the slick slide of their tongues, to their heavy breathing. He presses his fingers into Steve’s neck, feeling his blood rushing, his heart beating beneath his skin. Steve whimpers, and Eddie pulls away to look at him, at his screwed-shut eyes, his furrowed brows.

“Okay?” Eddie whispers.

Steve sniffs, opening his glistening eyes, and he pulls Eddie into a hug desperately, his face in Eddie’s neck as Eddie pushes a hand into his hair, closing his eyes.

“I was so scared,” Steve chokes, holding him tightly. “I thought you were gone.”

“No, I’m right here,” Eddie whispers, tugging his hair, kissing his jaw. “‘M not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

It slips out, but Eddie doesn’t try to take it back. He doesn’t regret it. Especially not when Steve takes a shuddering breath and turns his head enough to kiss Eddie’s temple.

Eddie falls asleep with his face in Steve’s neck, breathing on his skin as he lays in top of him, their legs tangled together. Steve’s hand is holding Eddie’s throat in a way that makes his knees feel weak, his fingertips pressed into his pulse, and Eddie is holding his sweater in loose fists.

“Oh, fucking finally.”

They startle awake simultaneously, gasping and trying to sit up, and Steve fingers tighten around Eddie’s throat before he quickly lets go. Eddie shifts, trying untangle from him, squinting in the bright morning sunlight, his body aching.

“Fucking Christ, Robin, why?” Steve exclaims, his voice rough with sleep, rubbing his face as Eddie leans back, groaning loudly.

“We all thought we’d have to live in your silent treatment for the rest of our lives,” she says dramatically, and Eddie watches her, still squinting, as she moves around the sofa to collapse onto his and Steve’s legs. “So you guys talked?”

“More like screamed and cried,” Steve says, shifting, pulling his legs away to lean against the armrest of the sofa. She sits cross-legged, looking at them. “But yeah.”

Eddie shifts to lean against him, closing his eyes against the light. He’s never been a morning person, and still isn’t today. Especially when he was sleeping so peacefully, on Steve’s warm body. Eddie probably has the knit of his sweater pressed into his cheek like a print.

“Sounds like quite a night.”

Steve’s hand presses into Eddie’s hair as he hums softly, and Eddie exhales, relaxing against him. He could fall asleep again.

“You had quite a night too, didn’t you?” Steve asks, his voice almost suspicious, and Eddie smiles against him, moving closer. He loves how Steve as Robin can read each other’s minds like this. How they can take one glance at each other and just know whatever there is to know. Steve pulls at Eddie’s legs so he’s sitting across his lap, and Eddie tucks his face back into his neck.

“Uh. I mean—”

“Oh, shit,” Steve says. Eddie can hear his smile in his voice. “V?”

“Uhm.”

Eddie lifts his head, brows furrowed in confusion, but Nancy appears in the doorway, carrying a tote bag like a baby. Her eyes find Eddie and Steve cuddled up on the sofa, and she exhales roughly.

“Oh, fucking finally.”

Steve looks sharply at Robin, eyes wide, and her face flushes with colour.

Oh.

“Finally what, Wheeler?” Eddie asks, rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, ignoring Robin and Steve.

“You guys were becoming insufferable. You talked?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank God.” She steps up behind the sofa to look at Robin, whose gaze softens when it lands on her. “You gonna help?”

“Help with what?” Steve questions.

“My mom’s using the kitchen, so we’re making cookies here.”

Steve makes a face.

“Why do you always use my kitchen?”

“Because it’s nice,” Nancy says. “Duh. Robbie, come in.”

“Robbie?” Steve whispers as Nancy leaves, and Robin shoots him a look, scrambling to follow Nancy to the kitchen.

“So,” Steve says when she’s gone. Eddie presses his face into his neck.

“‘S too fuckin’ early.”

Steve laughs softly, running a hand down Eddie’s leg, squeezing his thigh gently. Eddie kisses his neck softly. There’s a clatter in the kitchen, and Robin laughs.

“Hey,” Steve says after a moment, rubbing his leg.

“Mm.” He lifts his head when Steve doesn’t say anything, and he shifts to look at him. “What?” he asks softly.

Steve gazes at him for a moment, holding his leg with one hand as the other touches his cheek and then tucks his hair behind his ear. Eddie moves to straddle his hips, holding his shoulders and looking at him.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday,” Steve says quietly.

“I yelled at you too.”

Steve scoffs, playing with the ends of Eddie’s hair.

“I yelled at you first.”

Eddie pauses.

“Not… really.”

Steve just laughs lightly, closing his eyes and falling forward so his forehead presses to Eddie’s chest, just under his collarbone.

“Can you let me apologise, please?”

“Ugh, fine.”

Steve lifts his head and presses a chaste kiss to Eddie’s chin. No one’s ever kissed Eddie there.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday,” Steve says softly. “And I’m sorry for being mean.”

Eddie touches his cheek, almost petting it.

“I won’t yell at you again,” Steve says softly, firmly. “Ever.”

“Ever?”

“Mm.”

“What if I’m being an asshole?”

“Then I will very calmly tell you that you’re being an asshole.”

Eddie giggles softly, hiding his face in Steve’s neck, and Steve wraps his arms around him tightly. Eddie sighs, settling into his arms.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“You don’t have to apologise.”

“Will you— Steve.” Steve laughs softly, tightening his arms. “Come on, man.”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you. Like… as soon as I walked into your house. That wasn’t fair.”

He lifts his head and touches their foreheads together, holding Steve’s face in his hands.

“I won’t yell at you ever again.”

“Not even when I’m being an asshole?”

“No,” Eddie says, laughing softly. “I’ll very calmly tell you you’re being an asshole.”

“Okay,” Steve whispers.

Steve tugs at Eddie’s waist, lifting his chin up wordlessly, and Eddie smiles at him before he presses a soft kiss to his lips.

“Think I’m falling in love with you,” Steve murmurs when they part, his lips brushing Eddie’s.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, holding his cheeks so they squish a little bit. “King Steve falling for the freak. What would your loyal subjects think?”

“Who gives a shit?” Steve breathes, and something shifts inside Eddie.

“Fuck, I think I’m falling in love with you too.”

Steve smiles brightly, his eyes squeezing shut, and Eddie is free-falling off a cliff. He leans in and kisses him.

“How do you take coffee?” Steve asks quietly when they part, breathless.

Eddie kisses him again, sucking on his lower lip, smiling.

“Milk and sugar,” he murmurs against his mouth before kissing him again, holding his cheeks. Steve smiles against his mouth, his hands spreading across his waist before he slides one to the small of his back.

“Let me make you coffee,” Steve says.

Eddie groans softly, pressing his face into Steve’s neck again. He likes it here.

“Wanna go to bed.”

“Come on,” Steve says, laughing quietly, squeezing Eddie’s waist. “The girls are making cookies, maybe we can steal some dough.”

“Isn’t that unhealthy?” Eddie asks dryly.

“Kids eat cookie dough.”

“You’re saying I’m a kid?”

“‘M saying neither of us got to be kids for very long,” Steve says softly, and oh. Eddie kisses his forehead because he can’t kiss his mind. “Let’s go steal some cookie dough.”

“Okay,” Eddie breathes, but he doesn’t move, instead leaning down to kiss him softly, tenderly.

There’s a dash of flour on the top of Robin’s nose when they finally go into the kitchen. She and Steve exchange a look as Steve heads over to find the coffee.

“Why are you making cookies?” Eddie asks, hopping up onto the kitchen island to watch as Robin cracks an egg into the bowl Nancy’s mixing. “Is there a special occasion?”

“The Party’s coming over tonight for a movie night,” Nancy says. Steve turns around.

“What? Why?”

“Because your living room’s huge.”

“You guys keep making plans in my house without even telling me,” Steve mumbles, but Nancy points the whisk at him.

“Our house.”

He makes a face at her.

“Steve, is it cool if I smoke weed in our kitchen?” Eddie asks, and Steve rolls his eyes, but he smiles softly.

“Only if you share.”

“Cool.”

He comes back with two joints and sticks one in Robin’s mouth as she’s cracking another egg, both of them holding still as he lights it for her.

“Thanks, Edster.”

“Ew.”

He sits on the island again, taking a slow drag as he watches Steve make the coffee, find the milk in the fridge and the sugar in a cabinet, watching the way he steps over the tile like he’s about to fall into a dance. He brings a mug over to Eddie when it’s finished and sets it down next to him.

“‘S hot.”

“You know what else is hot?” Eddie says without thinking, and Steve snorts, moving to stand between Eddie’s legs so the insides of his thighs press to his waist.

“What?” Steve asks, looking up at him, smiling easily, sliding his hands over Eddie’s thighs, and Eddie’s cheeks flush even though he’s the one technically flirting.

“…Nothing.”

“Mhmm.” Steve’s eyes are shining gleefully, like he knows exactly how he’s affecting Eddie. He jerks his chin up at the joint. “Gimme a hit.” But he doesn’t move his hands to take it.

So Eddie takes a long drag, taking Steve’s chin in his fingers, and then he leans down, brushing Steve’s lip with his thumb so Steve opens his mouth. His eyes flutter shut as Eddie blows the smoke into his mouth, and Eddie smiles.

He hears Robin giggle as he’s gazing at Steve, watching the smoke drift out of his mouth slowly, and he looks past Steve to find her and Nancy standing together, trying to muffle their laughter in each other’s shoulders.

“Are you guys watching us?” Eddie asks, and Steve blinks his eyes open. Eddie runs a hand through his hair mindlessly.

“We can’t not,” Nancy says as Robin giggles again, taking a drag. “You just… command the space.”

Eddie sticks his tongue out at her. She sticks her tongue out at him. Steve pulls Eddie into a kiss. Robin squeals. Steve flips her off without looking.

Nancy lets them have some cookie dough, but only after Robin rants to them about the dangers of salmonella poisoning. Steve leans against the counter between Eddie legs and holds up the spoon for him while Eddie holds the joint down for him.

Nancy procures a polaroid camera as if by magic. She probably just had it in the tote bag. Eddie is paying a ton of attention to her at the moment. He into notices the camera when there’s a flash of light, and she lowers it to reveal a grin. The photo goes on the fridge.

The weed smell is gone by the time the kids there in the evening, all piled into Argyle’s van, very unsafely but they’re all grinning and giggling when they stumble out. They all let out similar groans when they see Eddie‘s arm around Steve.

Thank God.

Jesus, finally.

Did you finally talk?

Are you guys friends now?

That’s Eleven. Eddie likes Eleven.

“Something like that,” he says to her, and her face lights up.

“Alright, everyone go inside,” Steve says, ignoring them all. His cheeks are pink. “It’s gonna rain again.”

As they’re headed inside, Eddie comes up behind Erica and scoops her up, holding her upside down over his back as she screams and laughs, hitting him.

When Eddie turn around, swinging her, Steve is watching with a smile that’s different than any smile he’s ever seen on him. Happy, but something more than that.

Content.

The kids all pile up on the sofa before the movie starts, bickering and arguing about who gets to sit where, who gets which blanket. Erica tells Dustin to move his legs because he’s touching her, and he throws his legs across her lap to be obnoxious. Lucas ends up between Max and Eleven, his arms around both of them. Will sets a leg over Mike’s leg. Nancy and Robin take residence on the smaller sofa, sitting close together despite the space on it, and Jonathan and Argyle sit on the floor against the sofa. Robin plays with Argyle’s hair.

Eddie waits until Steve is done attending to everyone, passing out soda cans and napkins and cookies and chips, rustling their hair and bopping their faces affectionately just to be annoying. And then he corners him in the kitchen, quiet as the movie starts in the other room.

He pushes Steve against a counter, and they’re kissing before he can even say anything, his hands on Steve’s waist, Steve’s hands on his face, over the scar on his cheek. Eddie tilts his head, letting his lips part, squeezing his waist, the softness above his waistband. Steve exhales sharply when they part, smiling.

“Alright?” Eddie asks softly. Steve nods. There’s something lingering on his face, in his eyes. “What is it?”

Steve hesitates, tucking Eddie’s hair behind his ears.

“I don’t…” He stops, biting his lip as he gazes at Eddie. The room is dim, softly lit up by the light from the hallway. “It feels like… like something’s missing.”

“What’s missing?” Eddie asks, tilting his head, his thumbs running back and forth.

“I don’t know,” Steve whispers, his eyes trained on Eddie’s mouth almost absently, like he’s zoning out. “But it’s… it’s good that it’s gone. Like it was never supposed to be there, and then it was, and now it’s gone, and I…” He takes a slow breath, his chest rising and falling. “Feel like I can finally breathe.”

“Are you happy?” Eddie whispers.

“Yeah.” Steve says it like he’s just realising it, blinking and looking into Eddie’s eyes. “I’m really happy.”

Eddie smiles, reaching up to touch his face.

“Are you?” Steve asks softly.

Eddie blinks, his smile falling. And he thinks.

Feels Steve’s warm hands on his face, their legs twined. Listens to the muffled movie in the living room, the rain outside. Knows that almost everyone he loves is under the same roof. Safe.

“Yeah.” He looks at Steve. “I’m happy.”

Steve’s finger presses under his chin.

“We’re the same,” he breathes.

“Yeah,” Eddie says again, smiling. “We are.”

Steve closes the distance between them to kiss him again, his teeth catching his lip carefully, his hands spreading over Eddie’s neck and cheek, covering his scars like he’s keeping them safe.

When they pull away, Eddie tugs him into a hug.

They squeeze onto the sofa next to Robin and Nancy afterwards, and Steve is smiling the whole time, squished between Eddie and Robin. Robin sets a leg over his, and Eddie sees him reach down to squeeze her tight gently before he elbows her against Nancy. After a minute, Steve pulls at Eddie’s hand, and Eddie looks away from the television to look at him, about to ask if he’s okay.

But Steve wordlessly pulls at Eddie’s arm so he’s lifting it over his head, and Eddie sets his arm over his shoulders, pulling him close. Steve leans against Eddie’s chest, a hand set on his leg. He squeezes when Eddie starts to play with his hair, and Eddie feels him fall asleep after a minute, heavy against him, his shoulders rising and falling steadily with every breath.

He sighs, dragging his fingers through Steve’s hair as gently as he can, tilting his head to look at him, but he can’t see his face. So he just sighs again and presses a lingering kiss to the top of his head.

He looks up across the room, scanning over all the kids. Eleven is asleep against Lucas, an arm over his stomach, and Max is holding Lucas’s hand that’s by her shoulder, squeezing his fingers. Erica’s brows are furrowed in concentration as she watches the movie.

Will is looking back at him.

Or rather, Eddie realises after a moment when the television screen changes, brightening, he’s looking at Steve. At Steve sleeping against Eddie’s chest, holding his thigh, at Eddie’s fingers in his hair. Will is smiling, looking almost curiously, and his smile grows when his eyes meet Eddie’s.

Eddie jerks his chin up at him, gesturing vaguely, silently at Mike next to him, and Will looks away, at Mike. He seems to hesitate, looking back at the television, biting his lip, and then he finally lets his head fall to Mike’s shoulder. Mike smiles at the tv, and after a moment his head falls to rest on Will’s. Will’s eyes close.

Eddie sighs, shifting to settle into the sofa. Steve nuzzles into his chest, a soft noise escaping him, and Eddie runs his hand through his hair again, closing his eyes and listening to the rain.

[kyri45]

ISAT Sky:Cotl!AU Part 1: The Dock

AKA: How I think a possible sequel could be stroctured, using Sky: Cotl as a base for this AU)

SO! We know that Something happened after Siffrin almost destroyed the world. Something broke in a way, by the presence of Red. And also by the fact that the Daydreaming one can remember more clearly about their sister (they remember her appearance and that she had a bag, all things that are more visual than the abstrac fact that she liked to sing, etc… all this while she didn’t struggle to remember)

So the island is so forgotten, you can barely see it anymore (you CAN, briefly, see it by the end of the game)

… but that doesn’t mean is not there physically, right? Wouldn’t that mean you could theoretically still go there? It would probably kill someone from the amount of headace they would have probably. But something happened, and remembering some of the stuff isn’t as painful anymore.

The story could begin with the gang going to Bambouche, maybe to go see Bonnie’s village. The are rumors about people starting to see the island again, But it seems clouds and fog are in the way most of the time. Siffrin could finally start talking slowly to their family about what he could remember from his home.

This could lead them to try and physically go there to the Island by boat (Shiffrin used to have one, and could properly use it even at a young age, so they maybe they know the basics of navigation?) If you can see the island from Bamb0uche it means it can’t be more than a day on a boat away.

What they land on is something similar to the Isle of Dawn, and as they explore, Siffrin unintentionally activates one of the first murals of the game. (I’m using Sky's old beginning for this, not the one after the Aviary update).

“All are given breath by starlight…”  “The first of us lived in the joy that we would one day return to the stars”

The murals could be written in Siffrin language, and being that Siffrin DOES have Memory of Memories even after the loops ended, he CAN read without pain his language again.

As they venture further, they explore the only things left which are the boats and the remaining dock.

The Spirits

The spirits could be either actual people who are in an unconscious state from being part of the Wish or reflections of them (almost like the Sadness is the equivalent of becoming lightless in Sky) and their memories can help you remember how to say specific words in your language that will help you later unlock doors or simply slowly breaking the Wish.

Winged Lights as Wish/Star levels

As for all the stuff about winged lights, I would like for Siffrin to gain his first “star” here, but in any case, I don’t think they would be able to fight until the end. But each “star” or “winged light” could be used as a way to gain more Wish Craft or XP in a way.

In any case, the Family could reach the main entrance of the Kingdom (the Temple of Dawn), and more star-based riddles are solved to enter the temple. A vision of the future gives them a flash of the Wish and lowers their HP aggressively, but then, they see one constellation and Siffrin realize that he can finally recognize it. The first constellation he can recognize after years...

A short note about the colors

The first hints of the history of The Country could lead them to see specks of one of the colors.

Now, my main theory about colors is that whoever made the Wish for the country to disappear could have made it in a way phrased so that they also took its “Light” away, and being colors a variance of light refracted, that could have caused them from being taken away.

(also because I like how in Sky the following mural says “But then the sky went dark, and our kingdom shattered”)

What it would be REALLY cool to see in a sequel, is how shades of colors are slowly coming back the more you uncover about The Country (kind of like Gris in a way)

From darkness, one color at a time, they could light up the memory of the Country again!

And that’s all for part one! If you like where this is going, please let me know!

[bleachification]

aizen - moth to a flame

+ aizen x reader 

+ ch. one of my two part aizen fic inspired by ‘moth to a flame’ by the weeknd!

+ UPDATE !!!! ch 2 (the sequel) is right: here

summary: aizen’s betrayal may have shaken the foundations of soul society, but it completely shattered your marriage. you try to move on, with both heart and mind, but the effects of your husband’s presence still linger in every aspect of your life. aizen’s hold on your heart will never truly fade, and the worst part is... you’re not sure you want it to. 

It was the week before your upcoming wedding anniversary when you received the news that Sosuke Aizen was found murdered and displayed for the whole of Seireitei to see. 

The gut-wrenching pain you felt then at your husband’s loss only increases tenfold as you find him alive and healthy in the midst of betraying Soul Society. 

“Sosuke,” you whisper. 

The captain—former captain—gazes back at you, not a speck of emotion found within his eyes. He looks different, not just in his new hairstyle or lack of glasses, but in the way he carries himself. He scrutinizes the shinigami the same way a king would his slaves—ants under his feet, living only to be crushed. The worst part is he spares you no exception. The man you have been with for centuries regards you with only disinterest. 

He stands so far up in the sky… so far out of your reach. 

“Y/N, Stay back!” You barely register Byakuya’s voice nor his arm around your stomach as you pull ahead, desperate for answers. You struggle against Byakuya’s hold, eyes brimming with tears as your husband turns his back to you and disappears without a parting glance. 

I am dying, you think. It is the only explanation for what you feel at this moment. Byakuya’s grip tightens as you surge forward again. You have to get to him—to your husband. 

“Sosuke!” You’re screaming now. Screaming his name… pleading for him to come back, but it all falls on deaf ears. You collapse from exhaustion into Byakuya’s arms, throat raw and aching from your cries. The last thing you see before the world turns black is the glint of your wedding ring against the unforgiving sun.

The first thing you see as you blink back into existence is an unfamiliar ceiling. As you slowly rise and get your bearings, it becomes increasingly clear that you are not in your own bed. Unohana’s presence is the final piece of the puzzle of where you are; a private room in the medical ward.

“Retsu… that wasn’t a dream, was it?” You hold your breath, even if you already know the answer. 

“I’m afraid not,” she says. Your heart sinks with those three words, disappointment and grief gutting you anew. Sometimes it is more painful to mourn the loss of someone who is still alive rather than dead. 

Unohana continues: “Byakuya brought you back. The shock must have been difficult and quite fatiguing,” she pauses as she adjusts the IV strapped to your arm. “You’ve been asleep for over twenty-four hours.”

You bolt upright, only to immediately regret that decision as a sharp pang runs through your head without a destination. An oncoming headache. Just what you need. 

“Twenty-four hours?! I need to get back. I–I have to—”

Unohana interrupts you with a placating hand on the shoulder. “The only thing you need to do right now is rest.”

She’s right, but the anxiety crawling up your spine thinks otherwise. You need answers, and the only way to get them is to get the hell out of here. You need to get back home—the one you once shared with your husband. 

Husband…

The word is almost foreign to you now. 

“I’m fine, Retsu. I can rest at home,” you insist. 

Unohana spares you a knowing look but relents anyway. To try and convince you otherwise would be like conversing with a brick and expecting it to reply. Utterly useless. 

After a couple of hours, you are promptly released from Unohana’s care and sent home, where you now stand. Alone. The emptiness of the space is alien to you, and the warmth that usually encompasses it is completely gone. 

Night has fallen and encases Seireitei in a dark haze. The moon shines bright above the wispy clouds, almost in the same place where Sosuke disappeared. Its glow spills across the furniture, coating it in an otherworldly sheen. The four-poster bed you shared with Sosuke stands in the center of it all, cold and empty. Despite your reservations, your exhaustion takes hold of you, and you lower yourself onto the mattress and sit with your back against the headboard.

The last few days’ events finally take their toll on you again, and you are overwhelmed with a mixture of grief, shock, and anger. Anger. Anger at Sosuke leaving you, but mostly anger at being manipulated and thrown away by the person you trusted most in the world. The dam breaks, and before you know it, tears stream down your cheeks as you struggle to hold in your sobs. You are so lost in misery that you almost don’t notice the shift in the air. Almost. 

Someone is here. 

In a split second, you’re upright and alert. The Zanpakuto hiding beneath your clothes is grasped firmly in your hand. The room is silent, eerily so. You scan the space for any movement or indication of another presence. The air around you is thin, but a different frequency lingers… an all-too-familiar one. 

“Did you miss me, my love?”

Sosuke steps into view, and the sight almost brings you to your knees. Your husband stands before you, safe and sound, smiling like he always used to. A smile you used to think was full of love and care. How wrong you were. 

“Tell me—no tricks or sly words—the truth. Tell me they’re wrong. Tell me you didn’t do… all of it. Tell me this is some fucked-up nightmare and that we’re still happy, together and in love. Tell me!” Panic seizes your throat on the last note, your words getting louder and louder with each breath.

He draws closer. Your fingers tighten around the handle of your blade. Your husband notices this and stops, folding his hands behind his back, much like he would back when you had started dating. 

“We are still happy, together, and in love,” he soothes. It would be mocking if it was anybody else. 

But even now, you cannot trust his words. That realization opens up a line of sorrow and soft acceptance in your heart. This man in front of you is nothing but a stranger and an enemy. You finally see it now, and it breaks your heart once more. 

A single tear rolls down your face as you place your Zanpakuto down to remove the ring from your finger. The glittering diamond shines even in the dark. You hold it out to him and wait. Aizen’s eyes flit to it and then back to you. He takes a step back, the refusal clear. 

“Take it, Aizen. As a final courtesy,” you swallow, not daring to look into his eyes. “I’ll be throwing it away otherwise.”

After a moment of deliberation, his hands wrap around yours, warm and comforting. The sensation is so painfully intimate that it almost burns. You feel him take the ring from your hand, but his touch doesn’t disappear. 

“I know you are trying to manipulate me. It will not work,” you warn. Your voice is steady, a stark contrast to the unease in your chest. He is playing you and has been doing so for centuries. It is beyond irritating that you almost fall prey to it again. You want to melt into his arms and bury yourself in his chest, just like you always do after a long day out. Unfortunately, this is not just a simple long day out. 

“Manipulate is such a strong term,” he muses.

“It is the correct one. What would you call everything you’ve done up to now?”

Aizen gently tilts his head, and lets go of your hand. “Necessary. Everything was necessary,” he takes a small step back, and a flit of turmoil flashes across his expression. “Even the painful parts.”

“Painful? For you?” You laugh, though it’s void of humour, “Quite hard to believe.”

His hand comes up to touch your cheek but stops short at the resentment in your eyes. “You are the only thing that could ever hurt me.”

“My god, Aizen. Enough!” Grief turns to red-hot rage as he continues with sickeningly sweet words—cunning phrases that work to tear down your guard. You refuse to fall for it, no matter how sincere he looks. No matter how badly his presence is a comfort. “You can quit acting. It wasn’t real for you, I know that. But at least I can find solace in knowing everything on my part was real. That I wasn’t so desperate as to fake happiness in my life.”

“Fake? You fail to understand, Y/N. Yes, I lied to you—” Your chest tightens at the blatant admission. “But my feelings for you… our relationship was and is as real to me as it is to you.” 

“Then why do this? Why hurt me?” Your voice cracks. 

“An unfortunate but inevitable consequence. My goals are bigger than us. Bigger than Soul Society,” he claims. 

“That’s the difference between you and me, Aizen. You choose power over me, while I would have chosen you above all else,” you swallow. 

His brows furrow as confusion splits his features. “I can have both. You are important to me as well.”

You can only shake your head and sigh. The fight has all but disappeared from within you. “No. You can’t. You’ve made your choice, and I have no place in it.”

“Y/N–”

“No,” you snap. “You need to leave. The next time we see each other will be on opposite sides, so consider this a last show of respect for our previous marriage.”

Aizen narrows his eyes so imperceptibly any other person would have missed it, but you’ve been with this man for the better part of your life. “We are still married.”

“From this moment on, you and I are nothing but enemies,” you declare. 

“You will come to see sense—that we belong together. But until you do, I will keep this safe and wait for you. However long it may take.” He holds up your ring, and it briefly glints under the moonlight before he pockets it and disappears, leaving you alone and a victim of your own swirling mind.

[glitterp0prhaps0dy]

Bonding

Hey! sorry for not updating the story in a while! school kinda got in the way!but its summer now so ill be able to write more!

Floyd found himself suspended in a void of darkness, surrounded by an expanse of inky blackness that seemed to stretch endlessly in all directions. There were no discernible walls, no boundaries to define where he stood or what lay beyond. It was as if he had been cast adrift in an infinite sea of emptiness, with no solid ground to anchor him.

In this formless void, Floyd experienced a peculiar sensation of weightlessness, as if gravity had relinquished its hold on him and allowed him to drift freely. It was a disorienting feeling, one that left him simultaneously disconnected from reality and deeply immersed in the fabric of existence.

As he gazed out into the abyss, Floyd grappled with a profound sense of insignificance. In this boundless expanse, he was but a speck of dust, a tiny fragment of consciousness adrift in the vastness of the universe. And yet, paradoxically, he also felt a strange sense of interconnectedness with everything around him. It was as though he had dissolved into the very essence of existence itself, merging with the cosmic tapestry that wove together the fabric of reality.

In this liminal space between nothingness and everythingness, Floyd found himself confronting the fundamental questions of existence. Who was he? What was his purpose? In the absence of any external reference points, he was forced to confront these questions head-on, grappling with the elusive nature of identity and the enigmatic mysteries of the universe.

As he lingered in this timeless void, Floyd's thoughts ebbed and flowed like the gentle currents of an unseen river. He pondered the nature of consciousness, the boundless potential of the troll spirit, and the infinite possibilities that lay hidden within the depths of his own mind.

And yet, amidst the vastness of the void, there was also a strange sense of peace. For in this formless expanse, Floyd found solace in the realization that he was not alone. He was but one small part of a greater whole, connected to every living being every star, and every atom in the universe.

And so, surrounded by the infinite darkness of the void, Floyd embraced the uncertainty of his existence. For in the emptiness, he found a sense of freedom, a liberation from the constraints of the physical world. And as he surrendered to the boundless expanse of the abyss, he discovered that within the depths of nothingness, there was the potential for everything.

  The tranquility of the void shattered abruptly, replaced by a sensation of freefall. Floyd felt himself hurtling downward, the darkness enveloping him as he descended into the unknown depths below. The descent was swift and disorienting, leaving him with no sense of direction or purpose.

Without warning, Floyd collided with solid ground, the impact jolting through his body and eliciting a pained groan. He stumbled upon landing, his senses reeling from the sudden transition. As he struggled to regain his bearings, a perplexing realization dawned upon him – he was standing on his own two feet, unaided by the crutches he had relied upon.

Bewildered, Floyd surveyed his surroundings, searching for any semblance of familiarity in the pitch-black expanse. His efforts were interrupted by a sudden burst of noise, loud and jarring, that seemed to emanate from all directions at once. Amid the cacophony, a blinding spotlight illuminated him, casting him into sharp relief against the darkness.

But there was no stage to be found, no audience to witness his bewildering predicament. Floyd stood alone in the void, grappling with the surreal nature of his surroundings and the unsettling absence of explanation. As he struggled to make sense of his situation, a sense of foreboding settled over him.

As the echoes of the strange noise faded into the void, Floyd's attention was drawn by the plaintive cries of an infant. He turned towards the source of the sound and was met with an eerie sight bathed in the glow of a solitary stage light – a crib he had seen before.

The crib stood atop a platform, its frame fashioned from gnarled branches intertwined with shimmering strands of cobwebs. Its sides were adorned with intricate carvings, illuminated by a faint bioluminescent glow. Strands of ethereal moss draped over the edges, lending an otherworldly aura to the structure.

Floyd approached the crib cautiously, his curiosity mingling with a sense of trepidation. As he drew closer, the cries of the infant grew louder, echoing through the empty expanse with haunting intensity. With each step, Floyd felt a growing unease settle in the pit of his stomach, a foreboding sense of foreknowledge whispering of the mysteries that awaited him in this surreal realm.

Within the crib lay a tiny figure, wrapped in swaths of silken fabric woven from the threads of soft fluffy fabric. Its delicate features were obscured by wisps of mist that curled and danced around its form, lending an ethereal quality to the infant's visage.

The mist around the baby's face slowly dissipated, unveiling a small figure with bright blue hair that shimmered with slight purple tints. The skin, a delicate shade of cyan, looked almost translucent in the soft light. Big blue eyes, wide and filled with tears, stared up at Floyd. 

Floyd's heart clenched with recognition. He knew this baby. It was Branch, fragile and innocent, 

"Hey, it's okay," Floyd murmured, reaching out with gentle hands to soothe the crying child. His voice, usually full of confidence, wavered slightly. He rocked the crib gently, trying to calm the infant, but the cries persisted, echoing in the strange, empty void around them.

Floyd crouched down, his face level with Branch's. "Shh, shh, it's alright, little guy. I'm here," he said softly, but his efforts seemed futile. The baby's cries only grew louder, the tears streaming down his tiny face.

As Floyd continued to comfort Branch, he felt a growing sense of urgency. The surroundings remained shrouded in darkness, the only light emanating from the crib and the spotlight above. The weightlessness he initially felt had been replaced by a heavy, oppressive atmosphere. He could sense that this place held more secrets, more layers waiting to be uncovered.

"Why am I seeing you like this?" Floyd wondered aloud, his voice barely above a whisper. He glanced around, hoping for some sign or clue, but the inky blackness offered no answers. The cries of baby Branch tugged at his heartstrings, amplifying the feeling of helplessness.

Suddenly, the stage light flickered, casting eerie shadows that danced around the crib. The air grew colder, and Floyd felt a chill run down his spine. He looked down at Branch, whose cries seemed to take on a more desperate tone, as if pleading for something beyond Floyd's understanding.

Floyd took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "It's going to be okay, Branch. I promise," he said, determination seeping into his voice. He knew he had to figure out why he was here, why he was seeing Branch like this. There had to be a reason, a connection between the darkness and the baby before him.

As he continued to soothe Branch, Floyd's mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle. The void, the stage light, and Branch—all of it had to mean something.

Floyd's hand gently cradled the infant's, still trying to soothe the crying baby Branch. But suddenly, the stage light shut off, plunging the space into darkness once more. The sensation of Branch's small hand in his was gone, as were the cries that had filled the void.

Desperation welled up within him. He felt around frantically for the baby and the crib, but his hands met only empty air. As he continued to search, his fingers brushed against something smooth and textured. He knelt down, curiosity and hope mingling as he picked up the object and sat back on his knees.

Floyd carefully unfolded the item, revealing a piece of golden tan paper, its surface dusted with light gold glitter. It was strikingly familiar. There were four lighter ovals on the paper, each of them holding the names of himself and his brothers. In the middle of the paper was a crudely drawn waterslide, adorned with stickers of their family, smiling and happy.

Recognition hit Floyd like a tidal wave. This was Branch's hideout plan, the very same one he had shown him right before everything changed before Floyd left. Emotions surged within him, memories flooding back. He could hear Branch's excited voice, and see his animated gestures as he explained the intricacies of the hideout plan.

Tears welled up in Floyd's eyes, blurring his vision. He blinked them away, but they continued to flow, tracing wet paths down his cheeks. He traced the names with his fingertips, each one a reminder of the bond they had shared. The waterslide, the stickers, the glitter—it all spoke of innocence.

Floyd's heart ached with a bittersweet nostalgia. He remembered the way Branch's eyes had sparkled with excitement, how he had believed so wholeheartedly in their plans, their dreams. And now, here in this strange, dark place, holding this fragile piece of paper, Floyd felt the weight of all that had been lost.

As Floyd cried over the paper and the memories, he felt something warm and wet fall onto his forehead. He shuddered in confusion, raising his hand to his forehead to touch the substance. When he brought his now liquid-covered hand to his sight, he could make out the color red. It had a metallic smell. Blood. It was blood.

Floyd was bewildered. The pit of darkness, the stage lights, baby Branch, the paper, and now blood? What did it all mean?

Behind Floyd came a familiar sound, a distorted cry, eerily reminiscent of a woman's scream. He tilted his blood-covered head upwards, eyes widening at what he saw. There it stood, the creature that had tried to kill him. He could never forget it. Its body was a grotesque patchwork of shadows and twisted limbs, with skin that shimmered like oil on water, reflecting the faint light in unsettling patterns. Its eyes, if they could be called that, were hollow voids that seemed to suck in the very light around them, radiating malice and hunger. Long, spindly fingers ended in claws that resembled thorns sharp and gleaming in the dim light. The creature's mouth was a jagged tear across its face, a grim mockery of a smile.

Fear coursed through Floyd's veins, mingling with the confusion and sorrow already present. He stood frozen, clutching the golden tan paper, the glitter shimmering faintly in the darkness. The creature took a step closer, its distorted cry echoing in the abyss, sending shivers down Floyd's spine.

"Fuck" Floyd's voice was barely a whisper, trembling with terror.

The creature's hollow eyes bore into him, and it responded with another cry, a sound that seemed to reverberate through his very soul. Floyd's heart pounded in his chest as he tried to make sense of the situation. The memories of Branch, the hideout plan, and the blood all swirled in his mind, a chaotic jumble of emotions and thoughts.

As Floyd stared hopelessly into the creature's hollow voids, he choked out a sob. Terror gripped him, and tears streamed down his face. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, each beat a desperate plea for escape. Before he could react, the creature's jaw unhinged, snapping forward to engulf his head.

Floyd jolted awake with a start, drenched in sweat. His heart was racing, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Tears mingled with the beads of perspiration on his cheeks as he looked around, disoriented and frightened. He could still feel the phantom pressure of the creature's jaws.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he began to recognize the familiar setting of the Rock sisters' room. The posters on the walls, the scattered instruments, and the comforting chaos of their belongings slowly brought him back to reality. His breathing gradually steadied, and he wiped at his tear-streaked face with trembling hands.

It was just a dream. A horrible, horrible nightmare. Floyd let out a shaky sigh of relief, lying back down and staring at the ceiling, trying to banish the lingering terror. The room was quiet, save for the soft sounds of his friends' breathing. He took comfort in their presence, feeling the weight of the nightmare slowly lift as he reminded himself that he was safe.

An hour had passed, and Floyd still hadn't managed to fall back asleep. Restlessness gnawed at him, making it impossible to find peace. He groaned softly, rubbing his hands down his face in frustration. The remnants of the nightmare still clung to him, refusing to let go. He decided he needed some fresh air, or at least as fresh as air could be in a place surrounded by rock, lava, and volcanoes.

With a determined sigh, Floyd reached for his crutches. He positioned them carefully, making sure they were secure under his arms. Pushing himself up, he shifted his weight, ensuring he could maintain his balance. The cool metal of the crutches felt reassuring against his skin, a tangible anchor in the midst of his swirling thoughts. Slowly, he began to walk, each step deliberate and measured as he made his way toward the door, seeking the solace of the outside world.

Floyd carefully made his way downstairs, each step a cautious endeavor due to his crutches and the enveloping darkness. The descent was slow and deliberate, every movement precise to avoid a misstep. After what felt like an eternity, he finally reached the front door. With a soft sigh of relief, he opened it and stepped outside.

The night greeted him with a brisk chill, the air cool against his skin. As he looked up, the sky stretched out in a vast, dark canvas dotted with countless stars. They twinkled like distant jewels, scattered across the heavens. Amid the celestial display, a constellation caught his eye, one that vaguely resembled the head of a troll, if it were drawn by an abstract artist. The sight was oddly comforting, a reminder of the beauty that could be found even in the most unexpected places. Floyd took a deep breath, the crisp air filling his lungs, and felt a small measure of peace settle over him.

Floyd found himself wandering aimlessly, his thoughts as scattered as the stars above. Before he knew it, he had reached a hill that offered a breathtaking view of Volcano Rock City. He hadn’t even realized he had walked this far. Moving to the edge of the hill, he carefully sat down, letting his crutches rest beside him as he gazed out at the kingdom spread below.

The city was a mesmerizing sight. Rivers of glowing lava snaked through the streets, casting an eerie, fiery glow that contrasted sharply with the dark rock structures. The towering volcanoes loomed in the background, their peaks wreathed in wisps of smoke that seemed to dance in the night air. 

In the distance, the faint noise of a concert could be heard, the heavy beats and electric guitar riffs echoing across the city, adding a pulsating energy to the otherwise still night. It was a comforting reminder of the city's vibrant life, even at this late hour.

Beyond the city, on its outskirts, lay a dense forest. The trees stood tall and dark, their silhouettes etched against the starry sky. The forest was a stark contrast to the fiery landscape of the city, a reminder of the natural world that lay just beyond the urban sprawl.

Floyd took it all in, the blend of fire and earth, the sound of distant music, and the serene presence of the forest. It was a moment of tranquility, a brief respite from the turmoil within his mind. As he sat there, the cool night air soothing his nerves, he felt a small measure of peace settle over him.

Floyd felt the weight of exhaustion settle over him like a heavy blanket, his eyelids growing heavy as he fought against the pull of sleep. Reluctantly, he decided it was time to make his way back to the Rock family house. But just as he turned to leave, the sound of footsteps echoed behind him, causing him to pause.

With a slow, drowsy turn, Floyd faced the source of the sound, his senses dulled by fatigue and the darkness of the night. Before him stood a troll, clad in an oversized black hoodie adorned with a skull motif, spiked collar, ripped jeans, and black boots. The figure was small, perhaps a pre-teen, but in his tired state, Floyd struggled to discern their identity.

Wordlessly, the troll seated themselves beside Floyd, their presence unexpected yet strangely comforting. In a voice that carried a hint of weariness and familiarity, the troll spoke. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Floyd shifted his gaze away from the troll, his eyes returning to the landscape spread out before them. "It kinda feels like I did," he admitted, his voice tinged with defeat.

The troll's next question cut through the silence like a knife. "Nightmares?" they asked, producing a cigarette and lighter from their pocket.

Floyd nodded solemnly, the weight of his troubled dreams bearing down on him. "Yeah," he replied, his tone heavy with resignation.

"Nightmares, such horrible things," the troll mused, exhaling a plume of smoke from the cigarette. "Our minds decide to terrify us, torment us."

Floyd nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring the sadness in his voice. "Tell me about it... It's worse when it's memories."

The troll turned to face him, their gaze meeting in the dim light of the night. As Floyd studied her, he noticed the mask she wore, but up close, he could discern more of her features.

"Dreams allow trolls to revisit and attempt to work through old trauma," she explained, her voice carrying a weight of wisdom and sorrow. "Nightmares are often seen as a failure to work through or master the trauma. They're a way in which the mind transforms shame associated with the traumatic event into fear."

Floyd listened intently, struck by the depth of insight in her words. Despite the somber topic, he found himself drawn to her calm demeanor and the quiet strength she exuded.

As Floyd listened to the female troll share her own experiences, her voice took on a calm and measured tone. "I dream of my parents," she began softly, her words carrying the weight of years of reflection. "Arguing, throwing things at each other, fighting..." Her voice trailed off momentarily as if revisiting painful memories.

"But you know what I've come to realize?" she continued, her gaze steady despite the emotions that flickered across her face. "It's not the victims' fault for their trauma. It's the people who inflict it." Her words held a profound truth, spoken with a clarity that cut through the darkness of the night.

As Floyd stared into the mystery troll's eyes, he noticed the glossiness, the telltale signs of tears. The vulnerability in her expression touched him deeply. "It's not your fault, Floyd. It's not," she reassured him, her hand coming to rest gently on his back in a gesture of comfort.

Feeling a surge of gratitude and understanding, Floyd found solace in her words. The motion of her comforting pat was the final reassurance he needed, and with a sense of peace washing over him, he drifted into a peaceful slumber beside the troll.

[aliasnz]

Undesirable Presents: Le/vi Acker/man for @nametakensff and @kawaii-kushami's snzblr secret santa event <3

Tags: aot/snk-canonverse, allergies (pollen), cold, contagion mention, spray, mess, language. Word count: 2000 (and counting) A/N: I have several apologies to make about this fic >-< First of all, I am so sorry that it is so late! Secondly, I apologize for being unfamiliar with the other fandoms requested, I couldn’t help but feel guilty for writing for my fav. Third thing: just so I can have something out sooner rather than later, please consider this a part 1 that will be edited, updated, and self-reblogged upon completion. Finally, this fic may be too indulgent, but I am crossing my fingers that it is enjoyable anyways ~ 

If Levi had his way, he would have spent the day in solitude. 

His ideal birthday was simply his ideal day. In the warmer months, it would have been a sunrise run followed by a cold shower, his warm sweat and clingy pollen swirled down the drain. Then, his civilian clothes and a walk to the brick cafe at the edge of town. Black tea, white croissant, yellow pages of his favorite novel. Head ducked down and buried in his book, anyone who recognized him - for better or for worse - received the message: leave him be. He would sip until the porcelain ran dry, would stay until his stomach rumbled. With the last hours of daylight, he would stop at the butcher stand and purchase a few ounces of meat. It was about all he could afford on his military salary, but with rare optimism, he preferred to say it was all he cared to buy. Steak dinner for one. Lights out by dark. It was his way.

But Levi hardly ever had things his way.

He was a December baby, as Hange so mockingly put it, who loathed winter cold and winter colds. Instead of that morning jog and downtown stroll, he shuttered himself in his room with intermittent napping and tidying. Some considered his celebration traditions pitiful, but he could not complain. In ways as weighty as a family to visit or write to, yet also in aspects as miniscule as a good night’s sleep, Levi had been cheated in most realms of life. In time, he had come to live with it, found comfort in little joys, and wished the others understood that. That wish was most wanted on his own birthday, for everyone else seemed to celebrate it more than the man himself.

In the depths of his heart, he knew they cared about him. The yearly plethora of visits all accompanied with gifts should have proven that, but he loathed the treatment he received. Perhaps the early symptoms of the annual cold were to blame for that. No matter how hard he tried to avoid it, contagion made quick work of the barracks. Sooner or later, it would catch up to him, and that onset always seemed to hover around his birthday. On occasion, he wondered if he would be better off facing that inevitable infection head on rather than repeating the futile delay, but his train of thought was always cut off one way or another. A pang of headache, a harsh cough, a runny nose, or a sudden sneeze. This time, it was a knock at his door, the first of the day, one of many sure to come. 

Levi swung his legs over the side of the bed. Bright rays reflected off the metal buckles of his gear and reflected into his eyes, garnering a wince and dawning thought: just how late did I sleep in? Standing up, he immediately noted how his shoulders felt heavy, his breaths labored. If he had to guess, his cold would take hold of him before the 25th was over. Lucky him. 

Hand clamped down hard on the handle, startling the two on the other side just before he creaked his door open. The tall couple cast shadows over him: Nanaba and Miche with -

Shit...

Levi braced himself for their scream, but instead, they spoke calmly, handing over the bouquet with a pair of matching smiles, “Happy Birthday, Levi.”

He startled, not because he was surprised by their presence, but intimidated by their present: a bundle of bright-red poinsettias, pointed with specks of pollen he doubted they had noticed. They were far too innocent to have purposefully gifted him such a slew of allergens. Others, however, he was less sure about.

Instead of reaching out to grab them, Levi crossed his arms and tipped his tongue in refusal - refusal of their gift and refusing to indulge in the sneeze he already felt budding. Speaking quickly, he aimed to rush them out before they could witness his unravel, “I don’t want them.”

“C’monnn, Levi!” Nanaba pleaded, bending at the knees and shooting up again quickly. In her eager bounce, his eyes widened as he watched the petals flutter with her. His arms instinctively flinched before him as if he could block the microscopic wave. “Miche and I stood outside for hours in this freezing cold -”

Great, two more patients upcoming.

“- waiting for the flower shop to open.”

“First in line,” Miche added. “Do you know how popular these things are at this time of year?”

Levi’s stance remained unchanged, Nanaba saw his disinterest and felt compelled to play it up, selling the present rather than gifting it. “They smell good, too!”

Miche, on the other hand, preferred the path of insistence. Snatching the stems from his partner, he thrust them to Levi’s face, nearly touching, “Go on, smell them, you’ll see for yourself.”

He held his breath, reluctant to inhale as long as those were within reach. Aiming for subtlety, he feigned to nonchalantly scratch his nose with his wrist, “If you like them, keep them.”

“Someone’s ungrateful…” Miche teased, unhurt by the shorter man’s attitude, but never passing up an opportunity to rag it. “Y’know, most people would say ‘thanks’ or something…”

Levi frowned, he wasn’t ungrateful. Deep down, he was touched. On the exterior, though, he was objectively irritated, and could understand why they misread him. With a pang of guilt, he sought to correct the miscommunication, but that pang was miniscule compared to the burn of his nostrils, a flame that the leaves were now fanning.

“No, it’s just…” his face scrunched as he attempted to fight it off, just until he could finish the sentence, at least? “It’s… just…” 

However, that bouquet was set on denying him. Throwing in the towel, a rare occurrence for humanity's strongest, he whipped around and buried his nose in the crook of his elbow, “Hah’AESCH-ihh!” 

Fuck, all three parties unknowingly shared the same thought. For Levi, the nature of his curse was multifaceted. Foremost, the unexpected harshness of that sneeze, the wind knocked out of him first thing in the morning. From that, the daunting notion that this was the first of many sure to come, either from allergies or the cold. Finally, the flush that flooded his cheeks. That outburst had shown enough vulnerability already, Levi lingered behind his arm and remained turned away, waiting for the blush to disappear as well. 

Yet, even after those awkward seconds of silence, neither Nanaba nor Miche could erase that image from their mind: his tan coat spotted brown, the mist that shot from beneath his elbow and faded into the room’s sunlit atmosphere. With the captain turned, they allowed their faces to contort with disgust. When his audible sniff confirmed what they thought they saw, they looked to each other and cringed, agreeing that this birthday visit was over.

His comrades did not put the dots together, that the sneeze was a symptom of his allergies rather than the cold that was notably floating through the halls. Fearing for their own immune systems, they retreated several paces, but not before Miche thrust the flowers in Levi’s grip and snapped his hand back, no chance of handing them back now.

By the time Levi turned himself around, arm still bent at his nose, the pair was already a distant blur.

Nanaba waved over her shoulder, “Feel better soon! Don’t come near us until you do!” A joking-not-joking singsong to her departure.

“Have fun with those!” Miche cupped his hand around his mouth, allowing his bid to beckon from down the corridor, “You can thank us later!”

Levi dropped his arm, prepared to call back. Doing so, however, meant that his guard was let down, and he should have known better, that his assailant would be quick to take advantage. With the distance, Levi did not turn or cover - not that he had the time for that - and instead ducked his head down, sneezing onto his own torso. “Hnn’kkshu! Heh-ISHhew!!”  

Unfortunately for him, the height at which he landed placed him adjacent to the very bouquet that set him off. A dire proximity, each inhale killed every second - any hope - of relief. 

The mess was not only audible, it was tangible, piercing the threads of his button-up and sinking through to his undershirt, summoning a shiver. The clean freak could not bear the sight, nor was it his habit to. After each sneeze and before opening his eyes, he assessed the tickle. If it remained, his lids likewise remained shut until his system managed to kill it. The first attempts at regular breaths informed him outright: you’re not done yet. Levi kept his head down, bangs intercepting his eyeline with each jolt. “Heh’tchew! Kk’shuu!!” 

Once again, he paused to survey his own state. Although he beckoned for a break, his body merely mocked him. That all you got? Clearly unsatisfied, with frustration, he submitted to its demands, exacerbating the expulsion as best as he could, aiming to please. “Hah-ESHhew!! HIH’kit-chew! Hah…Hah-AEshih!!” 

His intakes had been audible even from those meters away, his fit an early alarm clock for all still asleep in the vicinity. Dammit. As an insomniac, he was especially remorseful to have been responsible for waking anyone on the weekend. Even redder now, he tried to convince himself it was not his fault, that they should have known better than to shove those flowers in his face. However, as his voice crescendoed, it became more of a stretch to blame the gifters rather than the receiver, the inducer over the screamer.

The burn in his sinuses was unbearable, he decided to look to the windows behind him, hoping to coax relief. Before he could lure his gaze that way, though, he caught a glimpse of pity on his teammates, and somehow, that was what bothered him the most.

Fuck, this has to stop. At this point in the fit, breaths were hard to come by, and his life-or-death experiences had molded his mindset to meet his most urgent needs first. Perhaps counterintuitive, Levi understood that defeating the irritant meant battling with it. Working through rather than around. Meeting their eye contact, Levi yanked their gift to his face and took a deep, deliberate intake, figuring that his unconventional strategy could get two messages across: he was allergic to their gift, but at least it was good for something. And maybe they’ll remember this scene come next year.

Indeed, they would, and Levi would be lucky if the memory remained confined to those two. The finale was a sneeze that made them cover their ears and made the last few sleepers snap up in panic. For him, the aftermath resembled the end of a workout: tire and exhaustion, yet inexplicable relief. For them, it read like a newspaper headline: steadfast, hardass germaphobe of the branch soaked in his own saliva and other unspeakable substances. The tight-lipped, ever calm captain engaged in the toughest battle of his life: no titan in sight, but tiny irritants also impossible to see. Screaming the barracks awake, he would have been the last culprit anyone suspected. Only true friends would keep this episode a secret, maybe he shouldn’t have been so terse with them.

Vengefully, and with the slightest bit of told you so, Levi motivated himself through the end with the anticipation of seeing their guilty faces, but by the time he opened his eyes again, they were long gone, either cowering from contagion or gossiping already. Around here, viruses and rumors spread like wildfire. 

Worked up and let down, Levi released a shaky exhale, wiped his face with his sleeve, flung the door shut behind him, and tossed the bouquet onto his bed.

One down.

tbc!

[pykxz]

hi.

you're on a rock floating in space.

pretty cool, huh?

some of it's water.

fuck it, actually most of it's water.

i can't even get from here to there without buying a boat.

it's sad.

i'm sad.

i miss you.

how did this happen?

a long time ago, actually never, and also now, nothing is nowhere.

when?

never.

makes sense, right?

like i said, it didn't happen.

nothing was never anywhere.

that's why it's been everywhere.

it's been so everywhere you don't need a where.

you don't even need a when.

that's how every it gets.

forget this.

i wanna be something.

go somewhere.

do something.

i want things to change.

i want to invent time and space.

and i know it's possible because everything is here and it probably already happened.

i just don't know when to start.

and that's exactly where it started.

whoah, i paused it.

i think there's a universe now.

what's it made of?

quarks & stuff

ah, that's a thing.

in a place.

don't like it?

try a new place.

at a different time™.

try to stick together, because the world is gonna get bigger.

and emptier.

but it's not empty yet.

it's still very full, and about a kjghpillion degrees.

great news!

the quarks are now happily married, in groups of three called a proton or a neutron

and there's something else flying around too that wants to join in but can't cause it's still too

HOT great news!

the protons and neutrons are now happily married to each other.

and some of them even doubled up.

great news, the electrons have now joined in

congratulations, the world is now a bunch of gas in space.

but it's getting closer together.

and it's getting closer together.

and it's getting closer toge-

it's a star

new shit just got made!

some stars burn out and die.

bigger stars burn out and die with passion, and make some brand new, way crazier shit.

space dust

which allows newer, more interesting stars to be made, and then die, and explode into

even crazier space dust

so now stars have cool stuff around them, like rocks, ice, and funny clouds, which can make some very interesting things.

like this ball of flaming rocks for example.

holy shit, we just got hit with another ball of flaming rocks.

and it kind of made a mess.

which is

now the moon

weather update:

it's raining rocks from outer space.

weather update:

those rocks might have had water inside them, and now there's hot steam in the sky.

weather update:

cooler temperatures today, and the floor is no longer lava.

weather update:

it's raining.

severe flooding alert:

the entire world is now an ocean.

volcano alert:

that's land!

there's life in the ocean

what?

something's alive in the ocean

oh cool, like a plant or an animal?

no, a microscopic speck.

it lives at the bottom of the ocean and eats chemical soup, which is being served hot and fresh, made from gnarly space ingredients left over from when it was raining rocks or whatever.

oh yeah, and it can do that.

it has secret instructions written inside itself telling it how to build another one of itself.

so that's pretty nifty, i would say.

tired of living at the bottom of the ocean?

now you can eat sunlight!

using a revolutionary technique, you can convert sunlight into food

taste the sun

side effect: now there's oxygen everywhere and the sky's blue.

then the earth might have been a snowball for a while, maybe even a couple of times.

it's a sponge.

it's a plant.

it's a worm, and some other types of weird strange water bugs and strange fish.

it's the Cambrian explosion

"wow, that's animals and stuff"

but we're still in the ocean, hey, can we go on land?

no

why?

the sun is a deadly lazer

oh okay.

not anymore, there's a blanket

now the animals can go on land.

come on, animals, let's go on land!

nope, can't walk yet.

and there's no food yet, so i don't care.

ok, will you learn to walk if there's plants up here?

maybe, said some bugs, and fish.

ok, so i can go on land, but i have to go back in the water to

have babies

learn to use an egg.

i was already doing that.

use a stronger egg.

put water in it.

have a baby, on land, in an egg.

water is in the egg.

baby, in the egg, in the water, in the egg.

works for me.

bye bye ocean

and now everything's huge.

including bugs.

wanna see a map of the land?

sure.

oh fuck, now everything's dead.

just kidding, here are the survivors.

keep your eye on this one because it's about to become the dinosaurs.

here's another map of the land.

yeah, it broke apart, don't worry about it, it does that all the time.

here comes a meteor.

and the dinosaurs are gone

it's mammal time, here come the mammals.

look at those breasts.

now they're gonna dominate the world and one of them just learned how to grab stuff.

and walk.

no, like, walk like that.

and grab stuff at the same time.

and bang rocks together to make pointed rocks.

"ouch"

and set things on fire.

"yeouch"

and make crazy sounds with their voice.

"gneurshk"

which can mean different things.

that's a human person

and now they're everywhere.

almost.

ice age

what, you can walk over here?

cool.

not anymore

well i guess we're stuck here now.

let's review.

there's people on the planet.

and they're chasing their food.

fuck it, time to plant some grass.

look at this.

i control the food now.

now everyone will want to be my friend and live near me.

let's all build houses except mine is bigger because i own the food.

this is great, i wonder if anyone else is doing this.

tired of using rocks for everything?

use metal.

it's underground.

better farming was just invented, in a sweet dank valley right in between these two rivers.

and the animals are helping.

guess what happens next

more food.

and more people who came to buy the food.

now you need people to help make the food and keep track of the sales.

and now you need houses for people to live in and people to make the houses, and now there's more people and they invent things, which makes things better and more people come and there's more farming and more people to make more things for more people and now there's business, money, writing, laws, power.

Society

coming soon to a dank river valley near you.

meanwhile, out in the middle of nowhere, the horse is probably being tamed.

why is all my metal so lame and lumpy?

tired of using lame, sad metal?

introducing

Bronze

made with special ingredient tin from the far lands of tin land.

i don't know, my dealer won't tell me where he gets it.

also, guess what?

egypt

meanwhile, out in the middle of nowhere, they figured out how to put wheels on a horse.

now we're getting somewhere.

also

china

and did i mention

indus river valley civilization

norte chico

the middle east is getting more complicated, maybe because it's in the middle of the east.

knock knock, er, clop clop.

it's the people with the horses.

and they made an empire.

and then everyone else copied their horses.

greeks

ah look, it must be the greeks, er, a beta version of the greeks.

let's check in with the indus river valley civilization.

they're gone.

guess who's not gone?

china

new arrivals in india, maybe it's those horse people i was talking about, or their cousins or something

and they wrote some hymns and mantras and stuff

you could make a religion out of this.

there's the bronze age collapse.

now the phoenicians can get down to business

also, can we switch to a metal that's a little easier to find?

thanks.

look who came back to israel, it's the twelve tribes of israel.

and they believe in God

just 1 though, he's got like a ten step program.

here's some huge heads.

must be the olmecs.

the phoenicians make some colonies.

the greeks copy their idea and make some colonies.

the phoenicians made a colony so big it makes colonies.

here comes the assyrian empire.

never mind, it's the babylonian- median-

it's the Persian Empire

"wow, that's big"

ah, the buddha was just enlightened.

who's the buddha?

this guy, who sat under a tree for so long that he figured out how to ignore the fact that we're all dying.

you could make a religion out of this.

oops, china just broke, but while it was breaking, confucius was figuring out how to have good morals.

ah, the greeks just had the idea of thinking about stuff.

and right over here, alexander just had the idea of conquering the entire persian empire.

it's a great idea.

he was great.

and now he's dead.

hopefully the rest of the gang will be able to share the empire evenly between them.

knock knock, it's chandragupta, he says get the hell out of here.

will you get the hell out of here if i give you 500 elephants?

ok thanks, bye

time to conquer all of india

or

most of india

but what about this part?

that's the tamil kings, no one conquers the tamil kings.

who are the tamil kings?

merchants, probably

and they've got spices

who would like to buy the spices?

me, said the arabians, swiftly buying it and selling it to the rest of the world.

hey, china put itself back together again, with good morals as their main philosophy.

actually, they have three main philosophies.

out here, the horse nomads run wild and free, and they would like to ransack your city.

let's check the greekification levels of the greekified kingdoms.

greekification overload!

bye, said the parthians.

bye, said the jews.

hi, said the parthians, taking over the entire place.

heyyyyyyyy, said the romans, eating the entire mediterranean for breakfast.

thanks for invading our homeland, said the jews, who were starting to get tired of people invading their homeland.

hi, everything's great, said some guy who seems to be getting very popular and is then arrested and killed for being too popular, which only makes him more popular.

you could make a religion out of this.

want silk?

now you can buy it from china.

they just made a

brand new road to the world

or you can

get there on water

sick! new trade routes! said india, accidentally spreading their religion to the entire southeast.

hmm, that's a good place for an epic trading kingdom.

there goes buddhism traveling up the silk road.

i wonder if it'll reach china before it collapses again.

remember the persian empire?

yep, said the persians, making a new one.

axum is getting so powerful they would like to build a long stick.

has anyone populated madagascar yet?

let's do it together.

china is whole again

then it broke again

still can't cross the sahara desert?

try camels.

hell yeah! now we've got business

said the ghana empire, selling lots of gold, and slaves

hi, i live in the roman empire, and i was wondering

is loving jesus legal yet?

no.

actually, ok, sure, said constantine, moving the capital way over here to be closer to his

main rival

don't worry about rome, it won't fall.

it's the golden age of india

there's the gupta empire, not chandragupta, just gupta.

first name chandra.

the first.

guess who's in rome?

barbarians

what's a barbarian?

non-romans, said the romans, being invaded by non-romans.

r.i.p., roman empire, er, actually just half of it, the other half is just fine, but it's not in rome anymore so let's give it a new name.

the mayans have figured out the stars

oh and here's a huge city, population: everyone

the göktürks have taken over the entire eurasian steppe.

great job, göktürks.

how's india?

broken.

how's china?

back together

how's those trading kingdoms?

bigger, and there's more of them

korea has 3 kingdoms.

japan has a kingdom, it's the sunrise kingdom.

deep in the arabian desert, on the top of a mountain, the real god whispers in muhammed's ear.

so he goes down to the cube where everyone worships gods and he tells them their gods are all fake.

and everyone got so mad at him that he had to leave town and go to a different town.

you could make a religion out of this.

and maybe conquer the world as well.

the roman empire is long gone, but somehow the pope is still the pope.

plus there's

new kingdoms all over europe

i wonder if there's room for moors.

here's all the wisdom.

in a house.

it's the baghdad house of wisdom.

just in time for the

islamic golden age

let's bring stuff to the coast and sell it, and become the swahili on the swahili coast, said the swahili on the swahili coast.

remember this tiny space you have to go through to get from here to there?

someone owns that now.

wanna get enlightened in the middle of nowhere?

the franks have the biggest kingdom in europe, and the pope is so proud that he invites the king over for christmas.

surprise! you're the new roman emperor, said the pope, pretending to still be part of the roman empire.

then the franks broke their kingdom into what will later be called france and not france.

but the northerners, or just norse if you don't have much time, are exploring.

they go north, from the north to the northern north.

and they find some land.

two types of land.

and they name them accordingly.

they also invade some other places, and get called many names, such as vikings.

there's the rus.

the kievan rus.

are they vikings?

i don't think so, said the kievan rus.

ok, fair enough.

the pope is ready to make some more emperors.

of the "roman empire".

the holy roman empire.

it's actually germany but don't worry about it.

new kingdoms.

christianize all the kingdoms

which brand would you like?

mine's better.

mine's better.

mine's better.

time to conquer england, said william.

it's a bird, it's a plane

it's the seljuk turks

aah! said the byzantine empire who's getting so small and almost doesn't exist anymore.

we need help!

they need help, so they call the pope.

hey pope, can you help us get rid of the seljuks?

maybe take back the holy land on the way?

come on, i know you want to take back the holy land.

yes, i do actually want to do that.

let's do a crusade.

crusade

they did many crusades, some of which almost didn't fail.

but at least the italians got some sweet trade deals.

goodbye mayans.

hello toltecs

goodbye toltecs.

hello mississippi

look at those mounds.

there's the pueblo.

i always wondered how to build a town in a cliff.

guess who's here?

khmer.

where?

here.

and pagan is there.

vietnam unconquered itself, korea just became itself, and japan is so addicted to art that the military might have to take over the government.

china just invented bombs, and typing.

and the mongols just invaded most of the universe.

nice going, Genghis!

i bet that will last a long time.

some of the islamic turks were unaffected by the mongol invasions because they were busy invading india.

is it tonga time?

i think it's tonga time.

i just found out where the swahili gets all their gold.

look at this chad.

means "lake".

there's an empire there.

right in the middle of

Africa

the king of mali is so rich he's going on tour to let everyone know.

wow, that guy's rich, everyone said.

the christians are doing a great job reconquering iberia, which will soon be called spain and not spain.

please remain christian.

we will check in later to see if you're still christian when you least expect.

whoops, half of europe just died.

ming

china's back, yay!

hey khmer, time to share.

new kingdoms here and there.

oh, look who controls all the islands.

it's the mahajapit.

majahapit.

mapajahit.

mahapajit.

mapajahit.

majapahit?

oh, italy's really rich, time for them to care a lot about art and the ancient classics.

it's kinda like a rebirth.

here's a printer.

let's make books.

so you think you can conquer the byzantine empire?

yep, said the ottoman turks.

nice job, ottoman turks.

whoops, you missed a spot.

don't forget to ban europe from the indian spice trade.

what? that's bullshit, said portugal, spiceless.

well i guess we'll have to find another way to india

wait! said christopher columbus, probably smoking crack.

if the world is round, let's go this way to india.

nah, don't worry, we already got this, said portugal.

so chris goes to spain.

hey spain, wanna hire me to find india by going around back of the world?

no.

please?

no.

please?

no.

please?

ok.

so he sails into the ocean.

and discovers more ocean.

and then discovers the indies.

and japan.

let's draw a line to decide who gets which half of the world.

the aztec and inca empires are off to a great start.

i wonder if they know that europe just discovered their continent?

the habsburgs are marrying into so many royal families they might have to start marrying each other.

move over lithuania, here comes moscow.

ivan wants to make russia great again.

move over timurids, maybe go invade india or something.

persia just made persia persian again.

let's make it the other kind of islam.

the one where we thought the first guy should have been the other guy.

hey christians!

do you sin?

now you can buy your way out of hell.

that's bullshit.

this whole thing is bullshit.

that's a scam.

fuck the church.

here's 95 reasons why, said martin luther, in his new book, which might have accidentally started the protestant reformation.

you know what would be magnificent, said suleiman, wearing an onion hat?

what if the ottoman empire was really big?

which it is now.

what if russia was big? said ivan, trying not to be terrible.

portugal had a dream that they controlled the entire indian ocean, including the spice trade.

and then that dream was real.

and spain realized that this is not india, but they pillaged it anyway.

damn, said england and france.

we gotta start pillaging some stuff.

then the dutch revolt and all the hipsters move to amsterdam.

damn, said amsterdam.

we gotta start pillaging some stuff.

question 1: can you get to india through north america?

no, but at least there's beaver.

question 2: steal the spice trade.

that's not a question, but the dutch did it anyway.

sugar

guess where all the sugar's made?

in brazil.

stolen

and the caribbean.

and it's so god damn profitable you might forget to not do slavery.

the next thing on russia's to-do list is to get bigger.

britain and france are having a friendly discussion about who should control the entire world.

more specifically, ohio.

then it escalates into a seven year discussion, giving prussia a chance to show austria who's boss.

but what about britain and france, did they figure out who's boss?

yes they did.

it's britain.

guess who's broke?

also britain.

so they start taxing the hell out of america.

fuck you, says america, declaring their independence, and fighting for it.

and france helps them win, now france is broke.

and britain'll have to send their prisoners to a different continent.

wait, if france is broke, why do the king and queen still wear such fancy dresses?

let's overthrow the palace and cut all their heads off! said robespierre, cutting everybody's head off until someone eventually got mad and cut his head off.

you could make a reli- no, don't.

haiti is staring to like the idea of a revolution.

especially the slaves, who free themselves by killing their masters.

why didn't we think of this before?

wait, who's in charge of france now?

me

said napoleon, trying to take over europe.

luckily, they banished him to an island.

but he came back

luckily, they banished him to another island.

there goes latin america, becoming independent in the latin american wars of independence.

britain just figured out how to turn steam into power.

so now they can make

many different types of machines and factories with machines in them so they can make a lot of products real fast

then they invent some trains.

and conquer india and maybe put some trains there.

hey, china! said britain.

buy stuff from us!

nah dude, we already got everything, says china.

so britain tried to get them addicted to opium.

which worked, actually.

but then china made it illegal and dumped it all into the sea.

so britain threw a hissy fit, and made them open up five cities and give them an island.

britain and russia are playing a game where they try to stop each other from conquering afghanistan.

also, the

sultan of oman lives in zanzibar now

"that's just where he lives"

india just had a revolution, and they would like to govern themselves now.

nope, said britain, governing them even harder than before.

technology is about to go crazy

the united states finally figured out whether slavery is good or bad.

it's bad, they decided.

and then they continued manifesting their destiny, which is to kill the rest of the natives and take their land and maybe kick out the mexicans too.

i know, let's rape africa, said europe, scrambling to see who could rape it the fastest.

they never got ethiopia

britain and france are still hungry.

they never got thailand

the united states ran out of destiny to manifest, so they're looking for more.

hawaii

cuba

wait, spain controls cuba.

well, blame something on them and go to war!

what should we blame on spain?

let's blame the maine on spain.

so they blame the maine on spain.

now we're in business.

to celebrate, they kick panama out of panama and make a canal, connecting the two oceans.

britain just found oil in the middle east.

it makes cars go

china is so tired of being bossed around that they delete their old government and make a new, stronger government, which is accidentally weaker and controlled by a guy from the previous government.

europe hasn't had a war since the last war.

so they start world war 1.

look at those guns.

it's gonna be a great war.

so great we won't need a second one.

after it's over, they blame germany.

russia went on strike and the workers overthrew the government.

now everyone's paycheck is the same.

communism

in the soviet union

the arabs revolt and britain helps.

now the ottoman empire's gone so we can give the

jewish people a place to live

hopefully the arabs won't mind.

let's cut the cake, said sykes and picot, carving up the remains of the not-so-ottoman-anymore empire.

except turkey, turkey makes a brand new turkey

and then the saudis conquer arabia.

it just seemed like the right thing to do.

hello?

yes, it's the 1920's calling.

let's get in the car and drive to a party and listen to jazz on the radio and go to the movies.

the economy's great and it'll probably be great forever, just kidding.

germany's back, featuring hitler, the angry mustache model.

and he's mad at the jews for existing.

japan is finally conquering the east, and they're so excited they rape nanking way too hard.

they should probably just deny it.

hitler's out of control.

so the international community tackles him and then tries to explain why killing all the jews is a bad idea.

but he kills himself before they could explain it to him.

that's world war 2

bonus round!

pacific showdown.

united states vs. japan.

fight!

finish him

let's unite all the nations and have some

world peace

seems legit.

hi, i'm gandhi, and if britain doesn't get the hell out of india, i'm gonna starve myself in public.

wow, that worked?

bonus, now there's pakistan.

actually two pakistans.

one of them can be bangladesh later.

the jews and the arabs finally figured out which one of them should live in the holy land.

me, they both said at the same time.

let's divide up the land so everyone's happy.

sike, they both get angrier

look out china, there's a new china in china.

what's on the menu?

communism!

no thanks, said the other china, escaping to an island.

i wonder which one is the real china?

there's the korean war, korea versus korea.

nobody wins, then it's on pause forever.

let's meet the sponsors.

oh, it's the two global superpowers.

they're having a friendly debate over which economic system is good, and which one is an evil virus of Satan.

and they both have atom bombs.

fight!

wait, no, that would be the end of the world.

let's just keep it cool and spy on each other instead.

and make sure we have enough atom bombs.

i'll race you to space.

now let's make some more countries fight themselves.

europe is tired of pillaging other continents, so the continents they were pillaging are tired of being pillaged.

so here's a new map, with new countries.

now you can't tell who they're being pillaged by.

the united states finally decided whether racism is good or bad.

they decided it's bad, and the world agrees.

south africa might need another minute to think about it.

let's check the world population.

whoa.

okay.

technology's better too, that might keep happening.

the soviet union decides to relax a little, and accidentally falls apart.

europe makes a union, so now they can all use the same money, except britain, because they don't feel like it.

let's check the mail.

surprise, it's on the computer.

whoops, someone just attacked america.

i bet they'll remember that.

phone call.

surprise, it's in your pocket.

wanna learn everything?

surprise, it's on the computer.

now your phone's a computer, which is in your pocket.

whoops, the economy just crashed.

don't worry, the big banks won't fail because they're not supposed to.

surprise!

flying robots.

with bombs.

wanna print a brain?

some people have no friends.

some people have no food.

the globe is warming

and the ocean is full of plastic

let's save the planet! said everybody, not knowing how.

let's invent a thing inventor, said the thing inventor inventor, after being invented by a thing inventor.

that's pretty cool.

by the way, where the hell are we?

[i-am-a-fan]

the worst part of learning a cool new trick is that it’s new.

[typhoons-mess]

On The Edge Sneak Peak

Here is a sneak peak of a story an anon requested. Really excited to show this off soon. This is a Dagur X AFAB Reader

Authors note: Also, if you would like to be tagged in any Dagur content I do please let me know!

[Update 9/29/2024: My hyper fixation is pulling me back in-hopefully I’ll actually work on it since I got two stories going at once!]

It felt good being back to the edge after that strenuous training session, as Hiccup would put it. He’s been focusing more on accuracy to make sure we all can hit Vigo’s ships since the double in the last few days. We can’t afford to fail. Astrid landed next to me and dismounted Stormfly landing her feet on the hard wood beneath us. “Well, that session could have been worse.” She sighed out moving a piece of hair out of her eyes.

Letting out a snort as I patted my dragon. “Yeah. The twins could have accidentally set Snotlout on fire from their terrible aims.” Astrid shoulders shake from her laughing.

We continue our chatter as we head down to the ‘hall’ to have dinner with the others. Taking a seat in between Heather and Snotlout we all dig into our meals as Tuff tells us another one of his jokes. “-But somebody better explain how Yak stew got into my pants!” Hitting his palms on the table as he laughs hysterically. The others around laugh as I cover my mouth to contain my chuckles, even Hiccup joins in.

“Hey! Speaking of soggy pants, you ever wonder what happened to Dagur and his crazy pants?” This makes everyone stop laughing and give a confused but stern look to Hiccup’s inquiry. The though of someone mentioning Dagur makes me choke on my drink, which prompted Heather to look my way.

Back on Berk when we were younger, first time Dagur arrived, me and Hiccup were playing together by the cliff sides. Dagur asked if he could play with us, and of course we both agreed since he was a guest. It was nice to have someone different than Hiccup to play with, even if he was a bit rough. One time we decided to race, by choice of Dagur of course. We would run all over the village with Hiccup being in last and Dagur and I running head-to-head with each other leaving the small boy behind. Turning the bend to go into the forest I remember tripping over a branch and scraping my knee. Looking down at the tore in my pants I can see scratches start to weep some specks of blood out. The strangest thing happened though. It was the first time I ever saw Dagur-well concerned for another living being.

“Look your f-fine! Just stop crying and-just here!” He tore off a piece of his clothing and wrapped it around the small wound as I wiped the tears from my eyes. It seemed hard for him to find the right words to comfort me. Looking up at him he blushed as he held out his hand for me to take, lifting me up off of the foliage. Seeing that I was now ok he stomped away as Hiccup came around the corner, panting as he stopped next to me.

“What-what happed?” He asked out of breath.

“I have no clue.” Puzzled I watched as Dagur stormed off to the great hall.

I whipped my mouth as Ruff slightly turns her head to look at Hiccup. “No not really.”

“What brings Dagur up anyway?” Fishlegs says looking puzzled as he puts down his second piece of Yak.

“Nothing!” Putting up his hands in defense,”-but since were on subject of Dagur now-uh-do you ever wonder why he helped Heather escape form Vigo?” Hiccup questions looking at all of us.

“Probably to make a distraction so he could escape himself.” I chimed in wiping my mouth as Astrid nodded with what I said.

“Maybe. I don’t know-“Heather raises her eyebrow in question, “-but was if it was actually the first step toward a new life.” We all tensed up knowing that this would cause an outburst with Heather.

“Hiccup-“I try to warn him to not bring it but got interrupted with Heather slamming her fist down onto the wood of the table.

 “A new life? Dagur? A dragon doesn’t change its marking Hiccup.” The force from the hit knocking her drink onto her lap and mine. Fishlegs tries to intervene with knowledge of some dragons who can actually change their markings.

“You get the point!” She says looking down at her axe in frustration.

“Well, you are probably right, but look at Stoick! Who would have thought he would have ever learned to ride a dragon. I mean it could be possible that he’s changing.”

“Y/N’s right. Y-You never know, next time we see Dagur- “

“I’ll SPLIT THE FATHER KILLER IN TWO!” Slamming her axe into the table right beside her, splitting into into two.

We all stared in silence for a good minute. Afraid saying anything else might make that axe split one of use into two. “Yep. Ok. I-I think we get your point.” Hiccup says a bit frightened like the rest of us. Noticing the thin tension, she makes her way to the door of the clubhouse. “I better go I have island patrol tonight.”

“Actually! I will take that. I have a way more important mission for you and Snotlout! It’s-uh-one final recon mission to check out our target”

“What are you talking about? We went last time.” Snotlout as confused looking between Heather and Hiccup. “I know, that’s why I’m sending you two again to be one the lookout for any last-minute changes. And you should leave. Tonight.”

“Tonight?!” Shouts Snotlout.

“Jeez Hiccup. Are you trying to get rid of us?”

“Yes-NO no that’s crazy why-why would I- “

Heather chuckles, “I’m kidding Hiccup. Relax. Come on Snotlout sooner we leave, the sooner we get back.”

“Take your time! And by that, I mean be safe!” He sighs looking back to me and Astrid. We both look at each other puzzled as to what was going on in Hiccup’s head.

When we all left to go to our respected huts for the night, me and Astrid headed out together. “Something seemed off didn’t it. ”Astrid looked puzzled as she asked me. “It could he is just nervous about what’s going to happen soon.” I shrug. Looking at me she mimics the same response, “I guess you could be right.” I give her a sympathetic smile and I put my hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be alright Astrid. We just have to trust him.” She looks at me and chuckles. As we near our huts we bid each other goodnight and headed inside. Even though I trust Hiccup something did seem off. He never mentioned Dagur this much before. But that could be thought more tomorrow as I sluggishly made way straight to my comfortable bed.

Tomorrow.

I can ask him questions tomorrow.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

I wrote this probably over 2 months ago and haven't done shit with it since. I thought it was cute but never elaborated on it.

So it is what it is. But it's about Nanami. ANYTHING to bring this man back lol.

SFW from what I can recall. Enjoy <3

Hear ... Me ... Out.

Nanami is at his favorite coffee shop one day and he sees this girl (woman, ok? don't get into semantics over it) and she is just a hot fucking mess.

Her hair is in the world's messiest bun on top of her head. It doesn't look like it's been brushed for a few days. Her clothes are like, less than casual. He doesn't want to use the word "sloppy", but damn. She look so sloppy rn that he has this overwhelming need to go straighten her up.

She's not ugly, not beautiful ... natural, though. But there's something about her that he is drawn to. She's kinda chubby. Which adds to her unique appearance(?), but with the right fitting clothes, she would be so cute, he thinks.

There's not a speck of make up on here face. And Nanami can't help but find that somewhat refreshing. There are stains on her sweatshirt from the coffee she is drinking. Crumbs on the table from her bagel with cream cheese.

GOD he wants to give her a napkin but doesn't want to offend her. What is the etiquette here, he wonders. Could he spin it so he comes off as polite? Caring, even?

He watches her for a while longer. Studies her face as she reads up on whatever textbook she's studying from. He can't get a good look at it, but it's a thick book.

Speaking of thick, he looks down to her thighs. They're thick, too.

His tired mind begins to wander uncontrollably to what she would feel like, what she would taste like. Then Nanamin catches himself staring too long. Spit pools in his mouth and he swallows hard. He looks away, hopefully before you catch him eating you up & out with his eyes.

But it's too late. You felt someone's gaze on you. And not just someone's. Fucking Kento Nanami's breathtaking brown eyes.

So now you're taking him in. And he is the most put together person you have ever seen. His blue button-up shirt is so well pressed that there isn't a single crease in it, even as he sits there in the cafe, it hugs his large arms looking like it was about to give at even the slightest miscalculated move. His tie hangs perfectly around his muscly neck. The light colored pants he wears - Oh God. They look like they're painted on. And they leave very little to the imagination.

He's got a tiny cup in front of him, his regular drink, espresso. But you don't know that's his regular drink. Because you have never seen him before. You don't even come to this cafe regularly. The one you like, the one closest to where you live, is having some renovations done. It has ruined more than one morning for you this week. Seeing the tall, ridiculously handsome man sitting across the seating area is starting to fix some of today's damages, though.

You tilt your head to the left and size him up, just like he was doing to you. But you're not even trying to be discreet. You decided that morning that you had nothing to lose by doing the societally deemed shameful things.

ie: oogling an attractive man, while you're looking like you're coming down from a 23 hour gambling bender with Toji (Nanamin doesn't know you know Toji and vice versa). Not that he'd permit you to keep associating yourself with him if anything were to become of the two of you.

No, he'd put a stop to that years ago. No proper lady of his would be fraternizing with garbage like Toji Fushiguro. No, no, no.

He's already decided he wants to talk to you. And while he has absolutely no reason to be shy about speaking with you, he can't bring his legs to move. That could be in large part to the considerable amount of blood that has pooled in the center of his body. He'll give it a minute and compose himself before he walks your way.

Nanami glances back at his newspaper and continues to read the daily stock updates. He sees movement in his periphery but thinks nothing of it because, after all, this is a busy cafe. It is a Wednesday. More people than you will move around.

It is you, though. You pack up your stuff, purposely leaving behind your cellphone beside your empty coffee cup, and walk toward him, holding eye contact for the entire time you're heading toward the exit.

He gets excited for some reason he can't yet understand and his pulse gets faster and faster the closer you get to his table for 1. Without thinking, he straightens up the scattered papers on the small table surface like he was expecting company. Your company.

But you turn at the very last second and push open the door to the sidewalk. The disappointment Nanamin feels crushes him like nothing he's quite experienced before. You are no one to him. He, in turn, knows that he's no one to you as well. Yet the dejected feelings remain in the forefront of his thoughts.

His eyes squint against the bright reflection of something silver on the table you were sitting at. You'd strategically forgotten and placed your phone to pick up the sun's light emerging from behind the clouds to get his attention.

It worked. He made his way across the cafe to the shiny object left behind. Picking it up, he tapped on the screen. To his great pleasure, there was no lock on the main screen. He had access to your photos. Your contacts. Your notes. Everything. He could look at everything.

Being the gentleman he is, Nanami thought it best to not look through it, though. He thought about giving it to the barista and letting them handle returning it to you. But there's no fun in that. He would track you down and give it back himself.

On the car ride to the "Return To" address in the phone, he felt his stomach turning. There was no reason for him to be nervous about this task, considering what his career is. He dealt with much worse shit than delivering a phone to a woman to whom he was attracted but couldn't figure out why. This was child's play. There was no curbing his excitement though.

Arriving outside your apartment building, he was surprised at how nice the place was. If he had to guess by just looking at you, he'd not have guessed a place such as this.

The doorman let Nanami pass with no problems. Looking as respectable as he does often grants him permissions that other people can't even entertain the idea of.

He pushed the button to call the elevator down and waited for it to carry him to the 14th floor.

Walking down the hallway until he found your place, he smoothed his tie down and knocked 3 times. He heard your footsteps coming as you padded your way closer to your door. And then he saw your shadow moving underneath, on the opposite side that he stood.

"Hello?" He said, his voice rumbly and deep. "You left your phone at the cafe we were both just at. I - thought I'd return it to you."

Nanami watched your shadow stretch out a little more and heard your fingers tap on the door as you looked through the peephole.

@darkstarlight82 @viburnt @arlerts-angel @kazutora-kurokawa @katkusuo (tagging you on the off chance you give a shit =))

[ddeluxevillain]

Project P0L3

Also known as Project Population. MXF! Robot x Reader AN: Sometimes I have to remind myself I'm not the most sinful person on this platform haha. This is a pretty vanilla fic, just you warming up to a robotic lover. Very light use of kinks. Mature themes! Read tags. 22K+ Words total (jk, I prolly count them. But this is a very long post. And an even longer fic. All chapters posted on Ao3! This is only the first one, and only half of it.)

Around 15 years have passed since the beginning of a new shift in time. Humans have started to decline in population. You’re one of the surviving few. You’ve seen humans less and less while hiding away in your little hole, eventually deciding it was safe. Day after day, you’ve slowly learned to adapt to living in your half-underground bunker. It was a quiet life, and for the longest, you’ve relied on your late parents to go out and retrieve for you. But since that day you’ve learned to move on and care for yourself. Life got more lonely. But you didn’t mind. You were busy learning to survive, gather, and revert to

becoming that classic hunter-gatherer. Occasionally screams would be heard, but your protocol was to ignore them until they went away. The only incident you’ve had in a while was an interaction with a desperate, dying, human. You do want to save the human race, but who would want to save someone who was being an arse?

A few days ago, you received a strange letter on your doorstep. Strange how they were able to find your front doorstep. The letter was neat, sealed tightly, with not a single speck of dirt on it. It looked as if it was brought from the past. After you opened the letter, it vaguely preached about ‘saving the human race.'

Hello ______________, We, the Council have reached out to inform you have been placed on a B.D. program to repopulate the human population. There is currently an updated log of approximately 6,2039 humans on planet Earth. For every single year, there will be 100 humans chosen for reproduction purposes. Based on personal documents, you are assigned female at birth. With this information, you are assigned a male partner for reproduction. There is a new policy. The 5-child policy will require couplets to produce five offspring. Once five offspring have been produced, they will be retrieved to be cared for by our nursing facilities. Male partners are functionally robotic. They are built and formulated for one purpose. This purpose is to guide you through your journey in this program. This robotic companion is meant to mimic parenthood and an intimate partner. At the time of this letter being sent, your robotic companion will arrive at your location in 3 days.

Best Wishes, The Council

Astonished, you tossed the letter to the side, not thinking much of it. But it was sitting in the back of your mind. For the next three days, while you were cleaning, cooking, and living your days you seldom thought about the letter. One day, there was an abrupt knock at the door. Or, lack thereof. A knock? There was no such thing as neighbors. You did your usual protocol, grabbing the bat and ready to strike. One downside of living in your bunker was the fact there was no telling who was outside. Adopting the “attack first ask questions later” mentality came in handy.

It only took you a minute to process what exactly you hit once you swung the trap door open. Now on the crusty floor beneath you was an Android. An oddly humanoid one. Its face was oddly simple and advanced. Like the ones you saw in Tokyo when you were a kid. Its skeleton was covered for the most part, by plushy silicon armor. If one could call it that. The armor covering the arms, legs, chest, and back all looked like synthetic chewy plastic. Very chewy, and very soft. Soft cyan LED lights illuminated beneath the plastic and between the cracks of metal completing the robot. A smooth black screen covered the robot’s face. Its paint was now a bit tinted by the surrounding dirt from being knocked over. Along with the robot, a small cotton bag was knocked over.

Breathing heavily in your mask made everything coming out of it sound deeper. Much more threatening if needed to be. You seemed much bigger, and tougher, with numerous layers of clothing on. No skin was visible, help with the sun now setting set made for a monster out of you. Now resting the bat upon your shoulder, you stared at the robot and finally remembered what all this was all about.

“They sent you here because they thought they could get something out of me eh?” You questioned.

The robot only nodded and wobbled as it regained its balance. Dusting its outer shell off, it lends a hand for you to shake. “Yep! I’m your assigned mate. Nice to meet you ______________!” The robot spoke. It buzzed slightly and hummed. Its voice was somewhat raspy and used a small bit of autotune. You looked at the hand through your green goggles and scoffed. You were living your days out like a champ! The rest could handle all the dirty work for you.

“You won’t get shit from me.” You growled, slamming the door at the poor robot. After all, it was just a robot. Not like it was any closer to being human.

“Please know I won’t leave until you open the door!~” The voice teased. It was loud. Too loud. He'd be an annoyance. Swinging open the door, you lunge at the robot and throw him inside onto the ground. “You shut your mouth and maybe you won’t be dissected into pieces.” You warned him. “There are hobos out there worse than me.”

“Yes, I would agree. But they don’t have their names on a B.D. Program, do they? My only purpose is to encourage and serve you while you’re in the program.” The robot replies. It gets up from the floor again and dusts off its belongings. You locked the airtight door behind you and put the bolt in place.

You let out a sigh, “What the hell is a BD program anyway?”

The robot smiled at this, and the two little dots for eyes turned into slits. You’re sure the robot meant well, but with its expression, it looks kind of malicious… “Oh? They didn’t tell you in the letter? Or did you not receive it?”

“I did receive it, I think it’s pure BS. Who does this ‘council’ think they are?” You replied.

“It’s similar to a conservation breeding program! Ever heard of them? I assume you lived in the time bracket when those existed.” Said the robot. “The council is a temporary group of humans that have humanity’s best interest in mind! They have decided to initiate this program so that humanity can get back to its steady numbers again. Once this goal has been accomplished, they will disband.”

Not only is being viewed as an animal terrifying, but the thought of having a kid scared you. It was a heavy ick you grew to hate over a short period. “I’m not doing shit. Others can do it for me.”

The robot still smiled and creaked as it turned around to keep facing you. You were checking out the water rust, something to hopefully signal this lugnut that it needed to get. “It’s my order. I’m not leaving until I’ve completed my goal.” It commanded, standing proud. Rolling your eyes wasn’t enough to explain your exhaustion. “As much as I love engineering and robotics, you’re not staying for long.” You sneered, not letting the robot speak for once. “Become any more annoying and I’ll dissect you like the little bug you are.”

The robot only continued to smile as you made a threat. It wasn’t necessarily empty—you’d be willing to make it come true. Besides the airlocks and the rust, there wasn’t much to check around the main entrance. All that’s left is to eat and you’ll watch the sunset for the rest of the day. “Make yourself useful and say to whoever sent you to fuck off.” You left for the robot. Venturing deeper into the small tunnel, you clasped a heavy lever and brought it down. Eventually, you were going to grow too weak to pull it. Not like it would be a problem since you’d die before moving around would become a burden.

“Want me to pull it for you?” A voice chirped, The robot appeared behind you, cocking its head to the side and resting both mechanical hands upon the bag strap.

“I’m perfectly fine. It’s supposed to be heavy.” You replied, still annoyed at the fact some random bugger came into your home. You had so many questions. How did the ‘council’ know you existed? How did they find any information about you? What’s keeping them from recording every interaction you’ve had with the robot? Nothing. Not only a privacy breach but a threat and a nuisance.

As the lever rested at its stop, large gears grind against each other. You were proud of your contraption. It was your beauty and pride. All of your inventions were. They made life easier, they kept you busy. A healthy busy. Unlike taking care of children.

Once the doors had withdrawn, the two of you ducked underneath and entered the home. Right behind you, the doors closed. Their heavy weight creaked slightly while they shut behind you. You throw your coat and accessories upon the table beside the entrance. The indoor part of your bunker was quite lavish and rustic. It was modeled after the perfect homes you used to live in before everything happened. You would die if it all were to ruined.

“So you’re just going to harass me until I say yes huh?” You asked the robot.

The robot tilted its head to the side. “Well… I wouldn’t say harass. I am here to win you over with your consent!”

Ugh. Being harassed and having some hunk of junk follow you around until you change your mind? Maybe in the far future but it was futile to convince you to do anything now. You walked over to the counter and started preparing your dinner. There were rarely any meats surrounding your area. They were believed to have been all hunted to the brink of extinction. At least, to your knowledge. Most of your diet was built upon cooked mushrooms and forest food. Occasionally, seafood. If you were incredibly lucky and wished to treat yourself. You had trouble growing your very own mushroom garden, but thanks to your huge collection you got the hang of it. The chicken mushroom was the closest thing you’ve had to meat. Naturally, it’s your favorite.

Taking out your cooking supplies, the robot leans on the counter. It’s a tad bit taller than you—a few inches give or take. “For your information, I will be right by your side for the rest of the time you are on this program.” It peeped. Nerd.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” You scoffed.

The robot only kept smiling. It watched you oil your pans, prepare your mittens, and set out the seasoning. You never thought of yourself as the type of person to be a farmer. You learned to do anything and everything by the hand. Your home cooking tasted the best it could—to your ability.

“I bet your cooking tastes nice.” Praised the robot.

You only nodded, knowing you were right. The robot settled down upon a bar stool and dropped its tote bag. “I’m solar-powered and have a huge rechargeable battery! I hope you have outlets or a sunroom somewhere.”

“I have access to the sun. I’d prefer to return to my own life though. Please go back to where you came from.”

The robot only shakes his head and repeats what it just said. “I told you. I’m not going anywhere. My only job is to ensure that you are serving your purpose while on this program. Take as long as you like. I promise I can wait, but don’t keep me waiting too long!” This is quickly getting aggravating. You loved your quiet life. You’d rather go head to head with this robot than give in whatever they have in store for you. As the vague smell of chicken filled the air, you relished the now-fried mushrooms. They looked fantastic, as usual. You had few plates and silverware due to living alone. You don’t even think about serving your intruder as you plop yourself onto a bar stool and start digging in. It burned your mouth, but you were really hungry! Hunger over pain you guess.

You could feel something on you, but not eyes. Turning your head, you see the robot’s ‘pupils’ fixed on you. The black pupils were now enlarged, much like a curious cat. You have to admit, whoever designed the robot made it cute. It was a simple and endearing design. But that’s all it was.

“Can you not stare at me while I’m eating?” You asked it.

“Ok!” It chirped. Its pupils now shrank. So small, that its face was now blank—with only a faux smile. You could only sigh as you finished the last few bites of your fake chicken. Throwing the dish into the sink, there wasn't much else to do other than watch the sunset. Like you usually do. You left the dining room and climbed the narrowly steep stairs to your second floor. You could call your little bunker a condo if you’d like. Nestled among a high canyon cliff, yet lodged between a perfect pine forest. A unique terrain, a lovely one at that. As you crawl out of the trapped door and pull down a string, the array of cloth curtains arise and let the rays of light shine through. You were so busy with setting up your watchtower, that you didn’t notice something slinking out of the same trapped door. You nearly gave yourself a heart attack with how quiet the robot sneaked up into your room! How’d it get in here so quietly? “Don’t sneak up on people like that!” You yelled at it. It accepted all your words while sitting criss-crossed on the floor. Ignorant, and blessed. “What if I decided to go along with your stupid program? You wouldn’t scare someone pregnant would you?!” You continued. “Besides this is my canopy. You are not supposed to be up here.”

The robot buzzed, processing your words. “I’m sorry ____________, but I must remain with you.” Shit. You probably would have to dissect this thing if you wanted to return to your normal life. You let out a huge sigh and threw yourself onto your large hammock. As you adjusted your tank top, the sweet smell of fog entered your small canopy. “If you’re gonna be here, tell me more about this program. And… this council.” The robot nodded enthusiastically as it opened its mouth, ready to drone on.

“I am Pixel, your male counterpart, assigned to be your spouse. We prefer to use robotics instead of other humans to limit the possibility of violent exposure and infection. The Council consists of 8 humans. All remain anonymous. They prefer to make history, not teach about it. The program was started ten years ago. Based on your gathered information you are younger than 25.”

They must have been stalking you or something. Or found out about your little canopy. You thought you looked pretty manly yourself whenever you put up your camo coat to head out for hunting. Goggles, a bashanka, wrapping layers around you just to remain unknown to anyone and everyone. Yet this unheard council managed to know your exact location and personal information. “Tell me that you guys have been stalking me. It’s annoying how you figured me out despite my efforts to stay low.” You grill the bot.

“We have our ways of getting information.” It smirks in response.

You sneered. “Are you filming all of this?” You interrogated.

“Only if you want me to. The Council has an oath of sticking by rules set by past humans! This includes privacy issues. Though none of these recordings will be collected by the Council. At the end of my mission, you can either trash these recordings or transport them onto a USB.” It answered. A thought popped into your mind. It was… an incredibly weird thought. Nonetheless, you suppose you knew not of social anxiety. There were not many humans left after all.

“I’m gonna ask a freaky question.”

The robot’s eyes widened, much like a camera’s lens focusing. You grimaced. “Do you… have… like a robot dick?” Even though Pixel wasn’t a human, it felt abnormal to ask such a protruding question. The robot only let out an artificial laugh while covering its mouth with a hand.

“You can ask any questions about me. And yes, I do have faux genitalia. How else am I supposed to help in this program?” It responded, now wrapping an arm around its stomach. You were… intrigued, to say the least by how this worked exactly. You’ve heard of sex dolls but a whole-ass robot? Technology must be incredibly advanced from where the Council came from. To your knowledge, they were rich dirty hogs that only saved all the resources for themselves. They didn't care about the rest of humanity. Not if the rest of us were suffering while they probably lived in skyscrapers that touched the clouds. Eating caviar and drinking cocktails to pass the time. You were eating and snacking on mushrooms. You felt worse than the lower class. “Any other questions?” The robot said. You thought for a moment. The more you engage with the robot, the more it will build a relationship with you. Knowing you didn’t want any part of this program, you probably needed to stop probing. Why’d you let him in again? Oh. Because he was being noisy. You could probably kick him out tomorrow. You scoffed at the robot and got up from the large futon. Today was coming to an end and the sun was past setting. Violet and navy streaks now covered the dying light. The sun was now just a ball of light. It was dimming ever so slowly.

Showering wasn’t much of an option. Unless you felt like collecting gallons upon gallons of pond water. Not only would you need to travel close to half a mile, but you would need to clean the water as well. The water was clean, but who knew what brain-eating amoeba lived in the freshwater you collected? Hours upon hours of just boiling water. You’ve adjusted to be comfortable with skipping showering for a day or two.

As you pick out some more comfortable clothing to change into, the robot gets up from its place and sits on the single wooden couch beside your table. The robot just sat there, clueless to the supposed ‘privacy’ it preached about. If it understood privacy it would leave the area and let you change in peace. “Can you not stare at me when I’m about to undress? Go to the other side or something!” You shouted. The robot calmly obeyed and started making a weird noise. Its front face began making a small whirring sound, seemingly powering down. Its facial features disappear, and the pixels turn black. The screen was off. Did it shut down? No. The soft glow of the light underneath the padding of the limbs and stomach was still awake. Was… it sleeping? To be safe, you picked up a stray blanket and covered the robot with it. If it shut down for the rest of the night, then you’d probably be free of it bothering you until morning.

Now in your comfiest of clothing (which to be honest, felt like bear skin), you could finally rest for the night. Besides being a chef, you had to learn how to be a carpenter. Bringing in wood and carving it in a way so that you could easily sleep on it. Abandoned libraries were your favorite places to make bases. They were quiet, besides the acceptable wind and echos of random little noises. Often, the one you most frequently visited was almost like a cathedral. Large, wide ceilings. Intricate designs are engraved and carved into the cement. Heck, you even found a couple of gargoyle statues around the place. A book on carpentry was added to your collection once you found the section for informational books. A few pages were covered in smaller mushrooms, but it was easy to tear them out and cleanse the book. You didn’t need them anyway. You learned shit about woodwork and done! You can now easily craft furniture. Crazy in retrospect how you couldn’t even craft a spear when you were a kid. Pot and ceiling plants littered your canopy, and the rain that came upon your terrain rolled off the clear plastic shield and into a vast silo you set to collect water. Then the cycle continues all over again. Only natural light lit up your room, and when it dimmed, it was time to rest.

As you hopped into bed, a mechanical noise began. You stop putting the blanket over you and stare at the sound of a fan beginning to start up. The LED lights grew brighter, and alongside the fan were gears and metal grinding together. The head of the robot shifted, and you can see the glow of the eyes and the mouth appear. They shine through the blanket. The robot troubles itself before scrunching the blanket above its head—much like a makeshift hood. It blinked a few times, its pupils now a bright cyan. It kindly smiles and looks over to you.

“We’re sleeping already?” peeps the bot. The robot lifted itself from the couch and draped the blanket over its shoulders. It hopped over to the edge of your bed near your headrest. A solar-paneled night light sat in the corner of your nook. “Hell no. You’re not coming into my bed.” You grimaced. Turning to your side to face the wall, you flip the blanket to cover you fully.

“Are you cold?” It inquired. You grumbled and shuffled around in your bed. Not only did this thing wake up just to bother you, but you couldn’t even think and sleep in peace!

“It is currently 54° Fahrenheit. The room temperature should be around 75° Fahrenheit. Do you wish for me to turn on the heat?” It asked in an unusually monotone voice. But heat? You had gotten used to the cold. Lower temperatures were familiar. Now out of nowhere, some high-tech bot offers a heating system? Perhaps reconsidering getting rid of the robot would be a good option. Maybe it was some use after all. Flipping around to face the bot, you’re met with an eager face. It had the temperature in the corner of its face. “You can do that?”

“Of course! I’m built with the latest technology. A heating and cooling system is just one of the many convenient functions I have.” Pixel answered. You furrowed your brow and stared still, “Well then turn it on! What are you letting me freeze for?” In response, the robot lowers its head. Its eyes close and a small glow of orange overcomes the once-electric blue light. You can sense the warmth begin to emit out of the vibrating robot. Once it seems to be done, it smiles at you and places a warmed metal hand on your shoulder.

The heatboxed robot stayed still. A small amount of tension built itself once you found yourself just staring at it. “You don’t have a thing where the hot air blows at you?...”

It corrects you, “No. I’m a heated teddy bear. Not an electric gas heater. If you want to get any more heat you’ll have to hug me.”

“What.”

“You have to hug me. Similar to how children hug their-”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I know. You’re putting me in a tough box here. I don’t feel like cuddling you. Can’t you just hover over me?”

The robot withdraws, and the cozy firelike heat that came from it goes away. “If you want any more heat you’ll have to let me sleep with you.” It confidently spoke. It crossed its arms and cocked its head to the side. Man, if you wanted to get any closer to modernity like those bastards in the skyscrapers you were going to give in some things. “You’re being such a cuck right now dude.” You gritted between your teeth. Pixel gave a tiny shrug and started crawling into bed, now returning the warmth you once felt. It felt like the coziest fireplace you’d ever experienced. Now sprawled on your bed, you hesitantly let the smug robot cuddle you. It wraps its balmy arms around you, and you can finally feel the heat to the full extent. You two turn to the side, with the robot being the bigger spoon. Your legs are entangled with Pixel’s. “Are you comfy now?” He hums. “Yeah…” You mumble. Perhaps you’ll grow to tolerate him.

The heat begins to make you more sleepy. Snuggly and toasty. It’s a strange rare feeling that you welcomed with open arms. Miss Moon finally showed herself, seeping through the curtains and shining with her sultry stars. As you stare into the night, you feel a chin place itself on the nook of your neck. You could feel the rising of the robot’s chest. To be honest, it felt quite human. The warmth and breathing habits mimicked a person’s perfectly. The artificial heartbeat in perfect sync with yours. The arms of the bot wrapped tightly around your chest holding you close. It felt weird having Pixel’s groin shoved up against your ass. But you weren’t one to complain since you had a heating source now. You were too tired to move anyway.

There you slept. In your nook with your new mate.

"Good morning Sunshine!" A voice boomed. First few minutes in the day and you're already being berated by some annoying, agitating, grating voice. "Let me sleep in Pixel." You groaned. The bed sheet covered your face, and your eyes felt like they had been sewn shut. The morning was a bit colder without a noticeable body right by your side.

A lukewarm hand slid underneath your arm and over your stomach as something pecked your cheek. "It's already ten. I think you should be up." Soothed the voice.

"Did you just give me a kiss?"

"No."

Slowly opening your eyes, you turn to face the bot. "What was that you put against my cheek then." He answered, "That was to check your temperature. It’s mandatory."

“Act a fool.” You sighed. The robot was sitting up, seeming awake for quite some time. Your body ached in the morning more often now. It was probably something you ate. Or lack thereof.

As another hand made its way down your back you instantly jolted.

"Dude! My back is sensitive. Go touch something else like grass."

"I have one purpose. I-" You cut him off by diving further underneath your blankets and shielding your head from all the boring spiels he might go onto. You can hear the muffled noises flow out of the robot's speaker, and your headache is already starting to develop. "I'm a former nursebot! 20 years then repurposed. Now I'm just a cuddlebot." You make out. You peep an eye out of the blanket. "Shouldn't be surprised. Your only goal here is to fuck and get kids anyways." The robot seems semi-offended by your 'insult'.

"I'm a cuddlebot for a reason. Not just sex and hugs. I'm here to build a relationship with you. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Take as long as you like getting cozy in our relationship. But I’ll have some kids with you someday~"

That's some comfort. You were expected to have kids someday. You've heard of parents pressuring kids to have grandchildren, but you'd never thought you'd experience it yourself. You're only 19. Not even 20, and you need to have kids? You'd rather eat mycelium. "Say... If I'm never willing to have sex with you, what would you do?" You asked. The robot paused for a moment, contemplating what to say next. "If you're feeling that way, and continue to feel like this after a couple of years I would report to the council. But let's focus on today. I'm mainly concerned with how you will react with physical affection." Informed Pixel. He smiled at you with his hand now under your tit.

"Maybe I'll get more comfortable if you stop trying to cop feels whenever you can." You scolded. He nervously laughed and withdrew both hands, both formerly in intimate areas.

"Note taken. So what do you plan on eating for late breakfast?" Pixel interrupted, diverting from the fact that he was being handsy. "Mushrooms again?"

You lifted yourself and got up from your bed. Taking a look at your closet, you only see a few tank tops and cargo pants left. Washing clothes would be a must today. The robot hopped off and followed close behind you, keeping a distance too close for comfort. "Today might just be a mellow day. I don't have anything to do unless wash all my clothing. Might have to go search for more food and tend to the garden. You good with gardening?"

"I know the basics about many common plants. To teach children. But otherwise, I have a chip that allows me to learn and store information. You can teach me!" Said the robot. You accepted the response and picked out a white tank top with a set of shorter cargo pants. You throw the clothes onto Pixel, the bot taking it. He stood there quietly as you swiftly changed out of sleepwear and into your day clothing.

"I see you're more comfortable with changing in front of me now!" Exclaimed the robot. You grumbled and zipped the flyer on your pants. Now on the first floor, you walked over to the counter. Having no fridge was no good, so you resorted to ice boxes and cold pond water. You probably wouldn't have much to eat besides tofu and a few spare rabbits. Your garden was developing nicely since fall's floods destroyed half of it.

As you took out the tofu, you didn't bother to take out a plate. Eating straight from the wrap that made it in was enough. At some points, you wondered about harvesting honey. But it would be too difficult considering you don't have a proper suit. You also have yet to reach a book teaching you about the subject. You didn't bother. Pixel comes down after you finish your last bite of the plain meal. You wish the peppers would start growing already. You could easily make sriracha sauce. Get a kick out of this bare meal. "You're done eating?" Pixel asks. You nod silently and dispose of the wrapping. You adjusted your tank top and walked over to your dirty bin. "You can wash half of these, I'll take care of the rest. Laundromat is out by a few minutes so get your trekking boots on." You ordered the bot. He nods happily to your message and picks up the heavy basket. The two of you head outside. Usually, you'd put on some type of uniform. Especially while going out, but this was a short trek. You shouldn't be gone for long.

Hopping over a few branches, you both begin your small journey.

As you sit on a couple of wooden boards, Pixel takes a seat right next to you. He sets down the basket and takes out a few articles. You take some from him and begin dipping the clothing into the water.

"So have you ever traveled outside of this center?" Pixel asked.

You paused for a moment. "Center? This is just some forest. If that is the name of this forest. But no, I haven't traveled much outside of the forest and canyon."

"Oh!!" Pixel blurts. "They do name the sectors in this state. This is sector 12. It's been untouched, and rumored to have a very territorial specimen. I'm the first android to set food in here. Well, besides the drones." Pixel smirks as he finishes that last sentence. His head tilted towards you. Drones? That's probably how they found out about you. Territorial specimen? Did they mean you? Not only was it quite funny but you also realized that the only reason that could've gotten that information was through interactions. Which means some of the people you've been killing might have been a part of the Council's operations. Whoops... You apologize, "Sorry about that... It's pretty amusing though you have to admit." Picking up the clothing and scrubbing it viciously against the wood-ashed soap. The bubbles and studs sprayed all over your tank top, and vaguely tinge your eyes. Pixel could only laugh, the situation seemed too funny to him. Some ape-like swamp thing terrorizing (murdering) employees. He meticulously wrung and scrubbed your clothing, making sure the soap was all over the article of clothing.

"I was informed you are an orphan. Is that true?" Pixel asked. It was a somewhat sensitive topic for you. But at the same time, you felt numb. you never felt the need to discuss anything about your parents. You have nothing to remind you of them. They seem like a distant memory at this point. Your father was just a man who taught you things. Your mother was just a woman who nursed you. When they were gone that day you accepted fate, as they had told you. Since then you've been on your own. You stop scrubbing and rest for a moment. "I don't have anything to say about them. It's all just a fuzzy memory."

The robot dims its screen and slants its expression. The smile now is a frown, and he relaxes his arms too. "I'm sorry for your loss. Even though you don't remember them I'm sure you three had good memories together when you were younger. They're just buried. Somewhere."

Being alone was a comfort for you. You'd rather be the parent than be of a parent. You didn't like the thought of being bossed and told what you could and couldn't do.

You thank Pixel and get back to washing. Pants after shirt, tank top after cargo, hazard suit after hazard suit. You both eventually finished the entire basket. Pixel insisted that he carry the basket back for you. You could only mutter good grief to yourself as you led the way for Pixel. The little android follows closely behind, urging he must hold your hand on the way back. It was annoying, but you didn't want to hear him pester you.

Leaving up the clothing to dry was the relaxing part. The day was now in midsession, and it was around lunch. One of the things left was eating rabbits. It was a bit stale but who are you to complain? Squirrels and stray birds weren’t sufficient enough for your appetite. After finishing dinner, you helped Pixel change his solar battery and decided to hike out to the upper garden.

Once you took the small hike, you realized there was much work to do. You didn’t have many gardening tools besides your shovel and rake. But who needed anything else? You did most things by hand. It was much faster for you. As you stepped over a few of the growing plants, you needed to tend first to the ones that needed water and pest removal. The aphids and earwigs were the worst. You assigned Pixel to pull out any suspicious weeds, while you added to compost, watered, and put some more fertilizer. Towards the end, you felt better about your garden. The tomatoes were dwarfed but it was something you could harvest and eat. Pixel carried all your groceries once again and followed you back into the bunker.

Sun always sets early now. How long did you spend in the garden? Who knows. Probably an hour or so. The sky looked greyer than usual. It should be around two or three. Days just seem to take longer, stretching tasks to fill the day. It’s worked most of the time. Day after day. You hopped onto the hammock and saw the few birds that flew by. They were probably migrating due to the soon-coming winter. Meaning all your efforts put into the garden were most likely going to go to waste.

The floor creaked and the trap door opened as Pixel climbed onto the floor. “Are you done for the day? If you have anything to do left, I can do it for you.” You turn your head towards the back of the room, seeing the android walking towards you.

“Pretty much. You can filter the wasted water. There’s a station outside. Take a right and walk up the trail. You should reach the hill that stops on top of the bunker. It’s a two-minute walk from the garden. You do know how to filter water, right?” You informed him. The bot nods and heads your order, now opening the door and descending the stairs. Now left alone in your room, you decided to take a shower for today. Pixel should be able to filter the silo.

It had taken Pixel an hour or so to complete the process. It should go through two nights, that way you’ll have clean water by Saturday. You felt refreshed, sitting on your bed. All that was left was for Pixel to appear. You breathed heavily and stared at the stray pages you pasted upon your walls. Some were your favorite books—pages and pages about fake scenarios. Fantasy worlds and journeys, all whimsical and comical. You’d lose yourself within the books, reading over and over again parts about fighting dragons. Witches and wizards fighting off spirits. You pay anything to be in their worlds. Depressing books that let you truly see what humans were like decades ago. A Japanese author letting his deepest thoughts down on paper, a psycho running rampant, boys who are stranded eventually turn to savagery. You could spend the rest of your life reading and writing—and you’d be undoubtedly happy.

The trapdoor opens, and a dirtied robot comes through the wooden shaft. Dirt and debris were stuck all over its screen, limbs, and knees. Pixel smiles at you as he latches the door lock. “Hi ____________!” He peeps. You get off of your bed and stare at him. You asked, “What the hell happened to you?”

Pixel laughs, “I fell down a hill. The mud can be pretty slippery at times.”

“Well, you’re not taking another step in my bedroom. Go to the shower and rinse yourself off.” You scolded. You guide Pixel over to the water basin and help him step in. You never thought that it would be possible for someone to bathe a robot yet here you were, scrubbing and rinsing off the dirt that was stuck to the robot’s plates. The lights glow under the water, refracting and illuminating the surrounding tiles. You swore Pixel was purring when you were scrubbing his stomach. After drying Pixel off, you two set for the night. The sun was set once again. Your view that you grew accustomed to was one high above all else. The canopy was secret and hid in plain sight among other vines and trees growing on the cliffside. “Your bed is cozy for someone who lives in the wild.” Whispered Pixel. “I take that as a huge flattering compliment on my crafting skill. Not easy finding blankets in tip-top shape.” You prided. You lay sprawled out on your bed again. Pixel was lying next to you, arm underneath your head. Mimicking a headrest. His other arm lying across your stomach. He has a content grin on his face as you rant to him about random things, your early memories, and incidents you’ve had with the infected.

The robot just listens, taking in everything you’re saying. “Wow. Sounds like you’ll have to be pretty strong to handle all of that.” He says.

“Yeah, survival of the fittest I guess.”

The robot just stares at you. You notice him and turn your head to face him. “What are you staring at me for.” You interrogate him. The robot circles your abdomen with his index, stating, “Nothing. You just look awfully appealing.”

“Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Flirting doesn’t work on me bud. Don’t think I don't know what that is—I read romance novellas before. I know where this is going.”

The robot stops its curling motion and places its hand flatly. ‘I know. But why not accept it?” Pixel takes his hand from your stomach and from underneath your head and rests his head in between them. His face now has a sleepy expression. But it’s clear all his attention is still on you. “What do you think happens when an isolated individual that has been alone for all of their life is suddenly asked to give someone the most intimate form of love Pixel.” You flatly state. You’re baffled at how he’s contradicting his ‘take-your-time’ motto. The bot could only smile as he rolled over, his head now directly next to yours. A hand shuffles over to your ass and begins to fondle it.

“You don’t need to be for the most part. As long as we start with little things like this.”

Out of the blue, a heated surface pecks your face again. It doesn’t leave as quickly as before though. By the time you register what he’s doing, Pixel stops kissing you.

“I’m glad. I want you to be okay with me giving you little pieces here and there.” He says, and snuggles against your side. This time, his body is tightly packed against yours. He has his heating system on.

“So you did kiss me!” You exclaimed. Pixel laughs slightly. You could sense his heartbeat, and it was unusually slow. You didn’t do anything that night. It was a quick adjustment from taking in some random robot to sleeping with it the very first night it came in. But hey, you’ve had weirder things to deal with. At least he’s peaceful. Unlike some of those zombies. That night was easier for you. Everything felt just right. You imagine what incredibly fictional dreams you’d be having tonight. All while a little android cuddled and wrapped itself around you for the entire night.

For the next few weeks, Pixel was a big help in doing your daily chores. The extra hand in hunting and retrieving made everything easier. You could probably use him as a maid bot rather than a love bot. However, he was constantly trying to be intimate with you. You’ve grown to be okay with the little touches here and there. He’d tend to wrap his arms around you. He’d insist on holding your hand or something apart of you. When you’d finally settle down for the day Pixel would peck at you and insist he holds you tight. It began getting annoying when he’d ruffle around and get very handsy—specifically at night. You couldn’t give up the offer on massages though. Your stiff body needed some forced relaxation after a day or two. He’d always gladly give you one. Anything to further your intimacy. The bot would remark on how soft you were. Besides all your toned muscles, and scars covering your body. You’d often feel silicon fingers squeeze at your thighs, massaging and rubbing on your inner side. Though you’d stop him before he got too close to straight up fingering you. Sometimes he’d squeeze your face, fangirling about how cute you were. How humans were so adorable and fragile.

While you were cooking, you now had someone new to bother you. Ranting to you about foreign subjects, cupping your bits while he’s at it. You began to wonder was this what past relationships were like? One spouse just lets the other one do whatever they want to them as a sign of love. Probably. As the next weeks passed, Pixel could practically do whatever he wanted with you. You’ve gotten through kissing sessions, naps filled with him just swaddling you, and intimate moments talking about your future. You’ve got to admit. Not only did you grow on him, but you’ve also grown to accept that he’s your spouse. It’s good to have a conversation with someone other than yourself. Though you’ll never tell him some of the things you’ve done before he arrived.

Although it’s been just three or four months, Pixel observed how comfortable you were with him now. From threats to tearing him apart to hugging him and letting him comfort you during your restless nights. Because of your progress, he stopped reminding you of his ‘mission’. Because he knew that you’d approach him one day. Just when you felt comfortable enough.

And approach him you did. Friday 13th, November 2901.

It was now more of a transition into winter. The forest slowly turned its leaves into autumn foliage. The wind tends to howl more at you from its distance. You don’t see as many animals to hunt anymore. You needed to transition into winter as well. Figuring out a solution for keeping the greenhouse and garden warm might be more of an extensive problem—but you’ll get over it. More reading up on gardening and agriculture for you. You felt like a university student.

As Pixel massages your shoulders, you stress about how tedious it is to survive out here. You were getting tired of life. You yearned for the easy-modern life of past humans rather than having to live the apocalyptic dream. What was Twitter? What the heck was COVID? Why was it so important in textbooks? It was probably the early stages of robots. And the internet sounded too cool. Being able to interact with people across the planet at the touch of a finger must be heavenly. You wouldn’t need to send out mail or use radio towers anymore. Like you would be writing letters in this time of age anyway.

The time was around six when Pixel stepped into the room with a steaming pot. Hopping over to your desk, the bot places the pot down and a couple of utensils. You’re in the middle of reaching a book that you found interesting as a break from reading up on agriculture. “Ready to eat?” He asked, trying to set down the window so that not too much of the autumn air would get into the room. You hummed in response and stared at the meaty stew he cooked for you. “Squirrels are pretty hard to catch y’know. Humans should be eating at least two meals a day.”

“I can eat only once Pixel, I’ll be fine.”

Pixel nudged your shoulder and wrapped his arms around your neck. He boos at you quietly while nuzzling his face into your head. A silicon hand crawls its way down your arm and stops upon your hand, holding it still for a moment. He then nuzzles into the nook of your neck and purrs into your ears. “You worked so hard today, I’ll spoon-feed you if you let me.” He’s being extra touchy today. But… maybe you deserved something nice—maybe… a little love. You have to admit it full-on. You liked him. A lot. It gets lonely and silent when he’s not around. He was also your personal maid and tending to every little thing that inconvenienced you. You grew onto him a lot more quickly than you intended. You just wished he wasn’t part of that stupid council. And you could just live out the rest of your life with him. Maybe… one… kid….

One…

Pixel pulled another stray stool over and dipped the spoon he was holding into the stew. Holding it close to your mouth, he imitates a small ‘aahhh’. You open your mouth and swallow the thing whole. It had a savory taste, the salt and rosemary making up for most of it. After a couple of minutes, Pixel fed you the last spoonful of the meal. It was a good meal, and you’re glad that you tried it. To be honest, maybe Pixel was a better cook than you.

The night set in around eight as you and Pixel put up and ready the house for the night. It was even colder, with it being around only 30 at night. Cuddling up to Pixel was a great comfort and a nightly tradition. The solar-powered night lights shimmered above the ceiling. The pine and fern plants near the huge canopy window reflected the dim light. It felt kind of romantic. All that was needed was wine. Which neither of you nor Pixel knew how to make. Peculiar how they didn’t add that function to him. Pixel hopped into your bed first and shoved the thick comforter off, giving you a clear space to sit. You hopped right beside him and climbed onto his lap. His fingers slid underneath your black tank top as you settled down for the night. Wasting your electricity for the thing you had planned for tonight might be worth it.

“You’re still wearing a bra? Aren’t your shoulders sore? It might be too tight on you while you sleep. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable while sleeping.” He whined. You sighed and leaned up against his head, permitting him to undo your bra straps. As the straps fell, you felt your chest finally rest after being tied up all day. Admit it, it’s relaxing. Pixel reaches underneath your top and unhooks it one more time before slipping the bra off and throwing it onto the floor. You’d probably wear it again the next day. Now free of any barriers in his way, the cheeky bot softly cupped your breasts and massaged both of your tits gently.

It felt good. It felt lovely. He felt human. You whined softly as he continued his hands further down and underneath your thin shorts. What was the point of wearing clothes at this point? You were comfortable enough with him to walk around bare. Tonight you were ready. Pixel slid his hand over your clothed womanhood and gently rubbed between your two lips. You were already half-wet. As soon as you let out another quiet moan, his fingers started softly vibrating. You place a hand upon Pixel's cheek and another on the hand shoved in your underwear, guiding where your sweet spots were. Pixel lifted the hand still cupping your breast and started moving your clothing down your waistline, now being able to see you in all your glory.

"Pixel." You whispered.

"Yes?"

"I—...I think I'm ready."

More chapters, a love scene, and a picture of your robot husband on Ao3!

[enbysiriusblack]

Marlene sat on the stairs at James' house, surrounded by strangers chatting and drinking. One couple next to her were snogging, and kept almost falling into her. But Marlene remained, watching Dorcas from across the room.

It felt strange, seeing Dorcas Meadowes in the Potter's house. But Dorcas had strolled in, chatted to various people and was now standing with a beer in hand, laughing at something Sinistra had said.

Marlene's grip on her drink tightened, ans she felt an anger blossom.

A giggle suddenly came from next to her, and she turned to see a very drunk Peter beside her.

"You look sad", Peter pouted, the buttons on his shirt half undone.

"I'm not sad."

He laughed, "Well you look it", then held out a hand for her.

She took it, and suddenly he was running upstairs to one of the bathrooms. He winked before opening the door, revealing Lily and Remus sitting in the bathtub. Alice, Kingsley, and Xenophilius were sat on the floor. Books and ink surrounded them all.

"Welcome to our humble abode", Peter grinned, grabbing a blunt from Xenophilius and lighting it.

"Is this some sort of book and smoke club?"

Kingsley glanced up, "We're writing a short memoir."

Marlene glanced around the room, accepting the cigarette from Peter, "Why?"

Remus shrugged, his eyes still on the book in his hands, "Because Sirius wanted to do shots and we needed an excuse to escape that disaster."

"No, Remus", Lily kicked him, "Because we have meaningful things to say; our thoughts, our words, our lives are passing through time like insignificant specks, but literature is a short immortality. We may forget tonight, but what we write will live on."

She paused for a moment, and slowly frowned, "Okay. I'm too sober for this, I need a drink."

Lily hopped out of the bathtub, and headed downstairs.

Marlene sat down on the floor, "Meadowes is here."

Peter has climbed up to the window sill behind the sink and as he opened it, turned to her, "James invited them, said he likes their fervent attitude towards quidditch."

"You have a crush on Meadowes?" Alice asked, ripping a page out of Chaucer, which Remus was now trying to wrestle from her.

"Merlin, no", Marlene groaned, leaning her head against the cool, tiled wall, "I hate them."

Alice nodded, as if she understood, and leaned towards Kingsley in a whisper, "Just like my Narcissa."

Kingsley laughed, lighting another blunt.

Peter leaned out the window, glancing at the back garden, below, "Hey Marlene, Meadowes is out here."

Marlene shot to her feet, climbing over the sink to reach the window sill. She looked out into the dark garden, spotting Dorcas with Pandora.

"What are they doing?" Marlene narrowed her eyes, watching as the two sat together by one of the bushes.

"You seem like a stalker, Marlene", Kingsley commented.

"I am not. I'm just curious. Meadowes is literally standing right by the fence to my house, maybe they know I live there somehow."

Alice snorted, "You think they're breaking into your house? Pretty, wild accusation."

"Well, I don't know! That's why I'm trying to see!"

Lily opened the door, slamming it shut behind her, and pointed a finger at Remus, "I hate your boyfriend... Okay, I'm ready to write now."

She joined the three on the floor, Remus peering over the tub to watch them.

"Update", Marlene called out, "James is now with them. With a glass of water. I have no clue what's going on."

Peter squinted, sticking his head out the window, "I think Lovegood threw up."

"Oh."

"She did?" Xenophilius stood up, clammering up to the window, "Dora!" He yelled, "Are you okay?"

All three turned to the bathroom window.

Pandora held her thumbs up, and waved.

James yelled back, "What are you doing up there?"

"We're writing!"

He frowned, "At a party?"

Dorcas was staring at Marlene, a small smirk on their face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Marlene shouted to them.

Dorcas' smirk grew, "Were you watching me?"

"No!" Marlene answered, quickly, her cheeks growing red.

Peter turned to her, "Well, you were."