#the twins were mostly there for the Drama

[arolesbianism]

Just realized I forgot to post these

[xan-izme]

Dubble life (ACTSV x reader x Batfam) 2

Part 1, Part 3

Summary: Reader struggles to get used to their new life in Gotham. Worrying constantly about her family in New York. A rise of tension rises between readers father figure Aaron and her real father Bruce.

After the dinner, you got yourself ready for bed. The old boombox player you had was playing soft music in the background.

You turned the lights off, slipped into bed and stared at absolutely nothing. Even with the soft music playing, you were just itching to break into your suit and jump from building to building. You were missing your life as Spider-Woman. You missed your aunt and uncles. You missed your cousin. He was literally your twin.

You practically bawled your eyes out while saying goodbye to him. Suddenly, your train of thought was broken when you heard a ringing sound. You sat you and grabbed your phone, for some reason, hoping that it was your mother calling, telling you she was going to be home late tonight.

It wasn't your mother, of course, it was Miles, your cousin. You happily accepted the call. "Miles! oh my God, I missed you!" You could hear the boy chuckle on the other side of the phone.

"We saw each other this morning."

You pout and groan "I know! but it feels like it's been days." You knew you were acting like a toddler, but don't you deserve to act like this? After the nights filled with crime, days filled with unwanted drama.

You and Miles stayed on the phone. Not much talking involved. Talking was too much to do, knowing that they couldn't say the usual 'See you tomorrow' or Miles reminding you to be safe on your little outings. You did end up crying at one point, which caused Miles to tear up, but you don't know that, and he would like to keep it that way.

The next few weeks went by in a blink of an eye, dinner most of the times ended up just being you and Alfred, which you understand, knowing Bruce is busy, and Damian doesn't really like you. Tim would join you for lunch at times. You soon found out Tim was a geek. Which made you talk and ramble off about your plans for the future. Besides from that, you were mostly alone in the house.

Now it was your first day of school, your uncle Aaron offered to drive you for your first day. You asked Bruce for permission first of course.

Bruce at first wanted to say no, but when he pondered about it. It would be good for you to be with someone you knew better to be with you on your first day.

But Bruce looked into Aron. The man was trouble, used to be involved in lots of bad people back in the day. Just to be safe, Bruce decided to tag along. This would also help Bruce get closer to you, get to know the real you.

Putting aside the formalities and the instant obedience you give him.

The doorbell rang, Alfred opened the door and see Aaron standing with a blank expression, one matching Alfreds. "Ah, Mister Davies. Lady Y/n is curently getting ready. Please follow me."

Without any words, Aaron follows Alfred to a room. Thats where he meets Bruce.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Davies." Bruce puts a smile on his face and extended his hand to greet. Aaron smiled a little and shook his hand

"Same here. And Aaron is fine."

The two men sat down and began to talk. It was normal, but only for a small amount of time. The tension in the room began to rise when Aaron's past was brought up.

". . . I admit. I went down the wrong path when I was younger. But I grew out of that mess. But if this is about Y/n, then I guaranty you she is nothing like me. She's a good girl."

"I know she is. I'm not suggesting anything Ill towards my daughter."

Aaron chuckled "Daughter? Don't take this personally. But she ain't your daughter. Not till she says so."

Before any real argument could be made, you came busting in the room. "Uncle Aaron!"

"Baby girl!" Aron at up and opened his arms for a hug.

You ran into the man's arms. Giggling as Aaron gave your head a kiss.

"Look at you. In your little uniform."

You smiled more and twirled around for Aaron to see the whole fit better. "You like it?"

"I love it."

The car ride was a little awkward, but at least it wasn't fully awkward.

Aaron gave you some money and a few good luck kisses and I love You's from Rio. You gave Bruce a hug goodbye.

It's been almost a month since Spider-woman was last seen. Tim did take an interest in this Spider-woman and was going to offer her to join the Young Justice League. You were just one person looking after New York all on your own, with no help. It was very impressive.

But now Spider-Woman was just nowhere to be seen. She has just gone MIA. Now the Prowler was taking care of the city. The media has gone crazy after the disappearance of Spider-woman.

'WHERE IS SPIDER-WOMAN?'

'SPIDER-WOMAN ON THE RUN?'

What did catch Tim's attention was the last time Spider-Woman was seen was the day Y/n's mother died. A lot of people were hurt that day Only one dead, which was your mother. Tim has come to a small theory that the death of your mother is connected to the disappearance of Spider-woman.

It's been a full week since you started school, the first day, teachers were really nice to you. They already knew about your mother, which had them pity you. And Bruce being your father made them extra nice. You already didn't like the kids. Seeing them as fake. Because they were. Those smiling faces, those empty words.

You knew them all too well. You do the same, fake knows fake, guess that's what you could call it. Damian was of course no help. Ignoring you as much as he could. Which you didn't actually care.

Why would you care for someone who clearly don't care for you? No need to waste any energy on him. You did take interest in a few clubs. You did need to pick one that you didn't have to attend all the time. One that didn't need too much of your attention. So, you picked the art club.

You saw how much kids were in there, with those number of kids, no one expects you to get to know them all, nor make friends with them all. There are also very talented kids in the club, and the art they do isn't your style, so you're not the best. Which was in a way, good to keep cover.

Right now, you were at the manor. Your uncle dropped off the extra books you left at his place. half of your room looked a section in a library. You knew there was a library in the manor. But they weren't your books. Even if Bruce insists that most of the things in the manor was also yours, that's not how you saw it.

The things you brought from New York was yours, the cloths, books, pictures. You just felt like a guest. Nothing else.

You were curently in your room, listening to a playlist Miles made for you. You were just finishing up your homework when you heard a knock on your door.

"Y/n? It's me, Bruce." The voice on the other side of the door spoke. "Come in!" You say, just loud enough for him to hear.

Bruce enters the room, when he sees you, a small smile graces his lips. You gave him an awkward smile as you wait for what he needed to tell you.

"My schedule is cleared out today. I was wondering if you wanted to go out shopping with me." Bruce was taking a look around your room. Looking at the items you kept on shelves, pictures. Trying to know what you would like, so he could buy something for you that was more of your style.

"And me!" Suddenly Dick popped out of the door with a bright smile on his face. "Nice room." Drick mumbled as he went near your bookshelf. Seeing what books, you were into.

"Ah. . . I would love to, sir- Bruce. But I don't got much on me." You had your own card, you had about 300 or 500 in. But you don't use it unless you're out and really need something to eat. On top of that, you kind of have a spending problem you need to control.

"No need to worry about that." Bruce pulled out his card "It's all on me."

You had no choice but to go with them. You sat in the back seat. Dick in the passenger seat while Bruce was driving. "How's school? make any friends?" Dick spoke up, turning down the volume of the radio. "Oh, it's alright. Me a few kids, they were pretty nice."

The car pulled up to a store. You walked in with the two men and started looking around. You saw plushies that looked really cute. "Can I get these?" You pointed at the plushies and looked up to Bruce for permision.

"Of course." Dick grabbed the plushies and you all started to get more things. Clothes, shoes. You were pretty satisfied with what you had. Bruce purchased what you had picked out, along with a few dresses Dick picked out for you.

Bruce was able to talk to you more. He knows that you like a lot of music genres, you seem to have a deep bond with your cousin Miles and your uncle Aaron. You speak highly of Miles, like he was a sun in the sky to praise.

Bruce was still hooked up on what Aaron had said. Bruce knows that he can't fix the sixteen years he missed in your life, but he wants to try and be there for you now. Try to break down that fake smile of yours.

What? You think he didn't notice.?

Bruce knows what pain looks like. And he can see it all over you. In your actions, your words. In your voice. Whatever makes you cry, whatever fears you have. Bruce will make them all go away. And he is determined to earn the title as your father. For you to finally call him by that title.

Because he's your father. And that's what fathers do.

[lovl3igh]

"they made greens worse in show to push blacks agenda" "they made blacks worse in show to push green agenda" truth is they made daemon and viserys worse and greens are now arouse sympathy and rhaenyra is made more soft and all that destroys mostly female characters and is for more drama and to push whole tg vs tb thing for bigger marketing while saying that's not what we supposed to do (season 1)

and yes, greens are worse in the books, making alicent innocent in the beginning and stating murder of luke as accident was to make them look better. and yes daemon was more "grey" character in the book, while in show almost every scene who was supposed to make him look like good father, husband or just vulnarable guy was cut out or belittled, his relationships make him look like bad guy - killing rhea, admitting to not fully loving laena, abusing nyra - instead of book!daemon who is against everyone but his family (except of green side), there's show!daemon who goes against his family or ignore its' members. and yes there are things when the greens are shown worse than in the books and black better than they were written

but changing ages of characters harms team black only. and since there's many changes of those and that's of many important characters it DOES make team black look worse and makes team green victims

1. alicent instead of being adult woman going against little girl (alicent 18yo and rhaenyra only 9) is now teenager sexually abused by viserys who is even older than her in the show than in f&b. being rhaenyra's peer - and her former friend - also changes the dynamic because now people claim rhaenyra caused break up of their friendship as if she wasn't just suffering 14yo. no, alicent is no more adult woman climbing for power and acting against child, it's a teenager abondoned by her best friend after being force into relationship with much older guy

2. jace, luke and dragon twins aged up - now in book it was 10yo aemond who attacked 3yo joffrey and then fought 4yo luke and 5yo jace*. in the show 11yo (according to s2 timeline) aemond is fighting four kids in the age from 8 to 10. so he doesn't attacks children at least 2x younger than him but is jumped by almost his peers. poor aemond, right?

*before someone say "jace was 6 and luke 5" - jace was born in late 114 AC and luke in late 115, meanwhile laena died at the beggining of 120 AC, which makes them 5 and 4 years old respectively

3. we don't have actual age of twins but looking at actors' ages, jaehaerys and jaehaera were 4, maybe 5 years old, tho in s1 they looked like toddlers. now it's not a big book to show change, 6 to 4yo, but it still look kinda worse to murder boy who barely stopped being a toddler than 6yo

4. daemon fell in love with laena when she was 22 (!!!). she wasn't a teenager. she wasn't also 12yo when offered by her parents to viserys. making her younger in the show made daemon, corlys and rhaenys look worse than in f&b (the only person who looked "better" - there's no good word for that i'm afraid - in that situation was viserys, who decided to marry 15yo and not 12yo. good for you, pedo?)

5. joffrey being 6yo with baby dragon makes rhaenyra look worse and like an oathbreaker. sending baby dragons to the vale instead of dragon who can at very least carry his rider doesn't look cool even though was funny for a second, because she technically didn't break her word, she DID send a dragon, even two, but that was a loophole

6. not exactly the same but - fabien frankel and matt smith' casting. i'm not saying they don't play their characters well or anything. that's not the point. the point is that fabien was born in 1994, matt smith in 1982 and milly alcock in 2000. there's 12 years age difference between fabien and matt but between cole and daemon is supposed to be only a year. now daemon is still called a groomer and cole is not because he is played by a guy only 6 years older than milly. and there are also people who now call him a victim and not rhaenyra

so yeah, i don't really wanna see anymore how much blacks look better in the show than in the book and greens worse... because that's not true. yeah, there are things done that make tb look a bit better but the show started with making the greens victims they weren't at all in the book and a lot of that has to do with ages changing

[tropicalcryptid]

My Favorite Detail in Farscape is [Spoilers!]

Ok for real spoilers for the entire show including Peacekeeper Wars, so I'll put a gif here and you all agree to scroll on past if you don't want spoilers for a show that ended in 2004.

Ok, so for everyone still here, my all-time favorite detail in Farscape is one that I didn't catch until my second watch-through, and I don't think it's common knowledge in the fandom. (Edit: apparently it's more commonly known about then I realized! Obviously this is because Farscape fans are keen-eyed and insightful and starved for content lol). It's certainly never mentioned or pointed out in the show itself. But it's just so perfect that I get giddy everytime I think about it.

So after Crichton gets twinned, in "Thanks for Sharing," Crichton A gets injured in the bar explosion on that planet that puts lobsters on your head. He is left with a cut above his left eyebrow, and the resulting scar can be used to tell the two Crichtons apart for the rest of season 3 (Crichton A is the one on Talyn with Aeryn).

Wound in "Thanks for Sharing"

Scar visible on Crichton A

No scar on Crichton B aboard Moya.

(Also frell me it's hard getting clear pics / gifs for this show somebody get on that)

Anyway, the scar/injury is never really addressed after that first episode, it's just a super-subtle costuming detail that shows the two Crichtons are now living separate lives. Crichton A then dies after finally achieving everything he ever wanted, Aeryn is heartbroken, drama ensues. The question is raised and discussed often, with much angst: which Crichton was the real one? Did Aeryn fall in love with the original or the copy?

Of course, Crichton B eventually accepts that they were both "him" and yet both individuals too, and Aeryn eventually says "There is no longer any difference in my mind." So it's resolved, mostly.

BUT.

2.5 seasons later, at the end of "The Peacekeeper Wars" Crichton B finally activates the wormhole weapon. After Einstein unlocks the knowledge for him, he returns to Moya bloody and hurt. And for the rest of the movie, he has a wound, and then a scar--a small cut above his left eyebrow.

It's never mentioned. It happens right near the end, when obviously a lot of other things are going on. It's really, super easy to miss. But I think it's amazing. They both really were the real Crichton. And even when they split and began leading separate lives--their destiny was still the same. The timelines reunited, kinda, or two separate possible outcomes synced up. It's such a beautiful, perfect bow to wrap up one of the most emotionally powerful arcs in the show. I just love it. Farscape really is in a league of its own.

[stitcherofchaos]

Kidnap Fam vs Earendil and Elwing controversy: Regarding the twins

Maybe I’m too practical-minded, but I see a lot of people either supporting or exaggerating kidnap fam, hating it with all their being, or ignoring the whole ‘love grew between them’ to translate into ‘emotional manipulation, hatred, resentment… etc (being anti-canon)’. I’ll respect opinions, frankly, I really could care less about them, but it does get irritating when people throw canon away for the drama (I certainly get annoyed when extreme pro-kidnap fams fans make it all sunshine and rainbows as if it wasn’t a difficult time or situation).

By the way, I can and will say that the twins can feel emotions, they are allowed to do that. Resentment and love can exist at the same time (for only a period of time) but one or the other must fade in order for the other the linger. One has to be consumed in order for the other to burn.

But just a thought, Elrond and Elros could love all of their parents equally, no more, no less than the others. One became a healer and the other, a king, I think they came to understand their foster father(s) and their bio-parents’ decisions.

(Ay maybe I just suck at emotions and all this feelings stuff and have no idea what I’m tolkien about)

And I’m not trying to call out or bash anyone!

I saw (and wanted to share) the quote,

“if your anger burns the furnace in your soul your whole life, you will be forever cold in the grave.”(I’m paraphrasing, I can’t remember the exact quote)

I cannot imagine Elrond or Elros being resentful to the point were they are vicious or unforgiving, whether it was towards Elwing, Eärendil, Maglor, or Maedhros (I really don’t think he was involved too much but if you swing that way).

I don’t want Elros to be cold in his grave, and I certainly don’t want Elrond's fëa to be burning for the rest of his immortal life.

Then I also had the thought, 'if the Fëanorians had never committed the third, worst, kinslaying, then Elwing would have never flown the Silmaril to her husband and they would have never gotten the help of the Valar.'

I personally headcanon that it was Eru’s work at hand to have Maglor raise Elrond and Elros. Think about it, what if they were spoiled in an alternate universe? What if something worse had happened to the twins? What if? What if?

What if they didn't become who they were meant to be if it wasn't for who they were raised by?

By the way, I read LOTR, I know Elrond refers to Eärendil publicly as his father and he makes no mention of Maglor. I analyzed this in three ways. 1.) Elrond must keep (the memory of) Maglor closed off, locked in his heart rather than talking about him more. 2.) It would've caused drama in his realm and in the counsel. 3.) Elrond really doesn't care, his father is his father, that's it. Zip. Maglor raised him, but Maglor is gone now. In a way, Eärendil is more present than Maglor in Elrond's life by the third age. Elrond can physically see the star, but he can't see Maglor.

I see it in the third way mostly. Eärendil is Elrond father, biologically, so why would he do this "My 'real' father" BS? It just seems like a waste of time. Tolkien probably didn't want to confuse anyone since the Silmarillion couldn't be published with LOTR.

Remind me of that quote from Yondu, "He may have been your father, boy, but he wasn't your daddy." But I really didn't want to refer to that quote considering Peter and Yondu's relationship is not the best example to compare this cluster of daddy issues to. Nevertheless, there is a point to be made in that statement. There is a difference between relation in regard to Nature vs Nurture, and the effects of it.

I guess the whole point of this post is, the fandom tends to take canon lore to the extreme or over analyze things to the point where they're just projecting. Trust me, I've been there, done that. I've learned my lesson (I think) and I wanted to share what I've learned.

Also (this is purely opinion) I don’t think Maglor was manipulative about anything, in the book, he just didn’t come off that way, for as little as he appeared, he actually seemed to be pretty optimistic (*regarding Eärendil) and honest (*the debate with Maedhros). He didn’t try to excuse himself or get the twins to pity him. Maglor raising the twins was out of pity/mercy, yes, but love grew (like what Tolkien said). He probably educated them on the facts and encouraged them to form their own opinions, whether that costed him their love or not. Maglor did have the more accurate moral compass compared to his brothers (in the end of the book!- Put down your pitchforks Maedhros stans!), especially if he knew that the Silmaril was better beyond their reach than where the enemy can also reach it. It was an accurate moral compass, although not a big one.

Argue, agree or disagree, or discuss with me! I want to hear different perspectives or opinions on this matter.

[matrixbearer2024]

Since the poll is practically over and the outfit's largely been decided, I'll be dropping the first post to the strip challenge in a couple hours on my Ford Blog @gftimelord to christen it HAHAHHA- (psst go bother him it'll be funny HAHHAHAH) Thanks for the interaction everybody, I only hope to deliver. Here's the first drabble to start it off with since I am pairing every drawing with a story sequence as promised. You could probably think of this as my interpretation for some kind of continuation to Ford's route in "Swooning Over Stans" by @gfdatingsim since I've genuinely been non-stop playing that game since it's recommendation to me. I will balance med proper and my delulu if it's the last thing I do HAHAHAHA-

Reply to this post as well if you want to be pinged for whenever this challenge updates!

I Accept Your Challenge!

(Stanford Pines x Reader)

After you heard a new challenge becoming trendy among couples you decide to try it on a certain Stanford Pines; just... you didn't exactly explain to him what the challenge was.

Maybe his competitiveness was a good thing in this case. You at least got a bloody good show out of his cluelessness.

Another slow summer day and you were in the living room of the mystery shack alongside the Pines as they went about doing whatever. Navigating your relationship with a certain scientist definitely somewhat of a learning curve but you digressed. Similar to Dipper and Mabel, you'd receive post cards from the twins about their seafaring adventures; your mail just came with additional special letters from your beloved. All of which you'd neatly stowed away in a bag that you always had with you, no use keeping it at home when you were rarely there.

Often traveling for a nomadic lifestyle was serene and fun at times, but you found yourself missing this place. It felt more like a home to you than your own place did in the couple weeks you'd stuck around after your car got smashed into the side of the log cabin.

Who knew that the same man who totaled your car one day would be the same adorable nerd you now called your lover?

It felt a bit like those romance dramas Stan liked to watch but you quickly dismissed that thought. Fairytales weren't real, fate isn't exactly something you believed in either. Stories of princesses finding their prince charmings were mostly smoke and mirrors, things you'd tell a child to give them hope of a better world than reality.

In gravity falls however... you quickly learned that nothing was truly impossible. Never say never in this small town of Oregon.

You sat on the floor next to Dipper and Mabel as they boredly flipped through TV channels; books, papers and crayons littered about around the three of you. The glass danced with colors from the rapidly flipping images while the twins struggled to find anything even remotely entertaining to watch, you couldn't help but allow your mind to wander from the boredom.

You and Ford spent quite a bit of time since you'd arrived at the beginning of the week, frankly you'd made the trip as soon possible when Stan shot you a message that they'd finally docked to spend the summer with the kiddos. You hoped it wasn't all that obvious how much you missed Stanford, but you didn't really need to worry when he was the one who immediately swamped you up in a hug the second you were out of your car. It's only been two years thus far since you've known the man but Stanley and Mabel insisted that you stay with him in his room, you didn't know why they were so adamant until you saw the state of the man's living quarters.

A whole day was spent with the both of you furnishing and cleaning the said room because of that but neither of you complained, most of the time was spent goofing off anyway.

Now... you were wondering where Ford was, not to mention what he was doing. Was he down in the lab tinkering again? You didn't want to disturb him, but you really wanted to find him. Any time spent apart didn't feel like time used to it's full capacity, even if you did enjoy the company of the other Pines; it just wasn't the same.

At some point, you were bored enough to not necessarily care whether you'd be disturbing Ford's work or not when you went down to the lab. It was just last summer when he taught you how to get down there, as well as spilling more about his past. All of which you simply listened to unless he asked anything; it was better to listen and attempt to understand than say or do something that would make it worse.

Seems like he really wanted to get it off his chest too, be transparent with you; something you appreciated.

You were shaken out of your headspace when you heard the rustling of boxes from the lab, as well as some hushed but frustrated cursing. You didn't really recall a time Ford swore unless he was legitimately ticked off, the man made a valiant effort not to compared to his twin.

But they both had sailor mouths anyhow even if it was fitting.

"Ford? Are you down here?"

"Ah-! [Y/N]! What- what are you doing down here?"

You moved closer to him in an attempt to see what he was doing, even if the man looked a bit rattled to be found like this by you.

"What are you doing?"

"I asked first my dear."

Ford chuckled, shifting to hide something behind his back. You pouted at him and crossed your arms. He couldn't help but smile at how cute you looked doing that.

"Was looking for you, Dipper and Mabel are bored watching TV upstair anyway... sooooo- what are you doing?"

You smiled when Ford returned your inquisitiveness with a small laugh, showing you what he held in his hand. A pair of goggles?

"What's that for?"

"I was attempting to sort through which of my belongings I could still use among the ones I wish to discard. Inadvertently I ended up finding these, I think I could still make use of them."

You tilted your head at him as a silent prompt to continue, it took every bit of control from Ford not to laugh again. You looked like a curious puppy, though he figured he shouldn't say that outright.

"It's simply among the items I collected and kept with me through my time in the multiverse. Protective eyewear can be useful for many things."

"Huh, if you have that— does it mean you still have the rest of the outfit?"

Now it was your turn to think Ford was being cute, he just wordlessly blinked at you in surprise. Was your request really that odd? You'd barely seen him in any other outfit combinations, of course you'd be curious.

"I—... I think I do? Why do you ask?"

"Do you think you'd still be able to rock it like you used to?"

"'Used to'? Excuse me?"

"I mean, it's been a couple years... why don't you try it on again?"

Ford laughed once again from your teasing, the way you sassily tried to goad him on was entertaining in it's own right. He was a bit on the fence about the whole outfit however, especially due to the memories associated with it.

It's not that bad compared to some things he'd found though... maybe he could indulge you.

"Hm..."

"I-I mean, if you really don't want to—"

Your panicked stammering was cut short when a warm palm cupped your cheek, meeting Stanford's eyes as he pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. He could feel your skin heat in up in his hand, hiding a cheeky smile in your hair as he held you there.

"I'll show it to you... as soon as I can find the rest of the outfit."

Ford couldn't help but smile wider when your cheerful laugh rang out; it's the best sound to ever have graced his ears in the time he's been alive. A bit surprising given how many things he's been exposed to, but he couldn't name another chime so pleasant.

"I'll hold you to that Ford."

"And I accept your challenge my dear."

YEAAAAH HERE IT ISSSS- TEXT THING CUZ WE NEED INTRODUCTION-

[galaxiasgreen]

🍭☀️A Cruelty Vivid and Sweet

Slow burn angsty Ominis x F!Reader [T-Rated, 8.7k words]

"I can't lose him," he whispered, a shattering realisation. "Not like I lost Anne, and... and you." "You haven't lost me." "You are the one good thing in my life right now," he said, voice broken with rage and pain, "and we can't even talk in the hallway!" You leant against him then, shoulder to shoulder. And there it was, like clockwork. Strawberry laces. "Then let's be two normal people right now. Just... for a little while. Like before."

In which, with his relationship with you a secret, Ominis tries to pull his best friend from the brink of darkness.

Tropes: angst/ romance/ drama, slow burn, black cat x golden retriever, opposites attract, forbidden love, pure-blood culture, canon rewrite, book!canon compliant, Ominis meets the Sallow Twins, Forced Proximity, Denial of Feelings, duelling practice, the Relic Quest.

[FIRST][PREV][NEXT] [read on AO3, read on Wattpad]

3. A Secret Friendship

From then on, your friendship together was a secret.

Ominis' growing feelings even more so.

There was a forbidden agreement between you that, to save you, and to save himself, you wouldn't interact in the outer world. No cheerful waves in the hallways, no hanging off each other's arms between lessons. The only way to communicate was through notes, traded like secrets, a folded scrap of parchment slipping into his robe or your pocket. Ominis doubted Perry Malfoy and his cronies would bother to learn braille at his expense, after all, and this way you could keep in contact without breaking the façade.

Your grasp of it was clumsy though. In your impatience, you forgot words like the and a, your cadence was robotic and primitive, and one time you forgot the L in public, which made him snort so hard he got detention in History of Magic.

When notes weren't needed, or seemed too risky, there was the language of touch, even more heretical to his family's values, and even more seducing. Your elbow a gentle nudge to his side, in the hallways, on the front lawns, your pinkie brushing his in class, lightning through his skin. They were fleeting, these moments of connection between you, but no less potent.

No less desired by him.

Even though you were a social creature, most energised when you spent time with your friends, you took to this naturally. No matter how tedious, you lived for the notes, for the secrets you shared. Your mood improved drastically, he could sense it, freed of your previous burden.

He felt the same too. Lighter on his shoulders, his heart.

On days when the both of you felt the most daring, where the stars aligned for a culmination of your letters, you met him under the Astronomy deck, when everyone was away at the evening feast, to have a little feast of your own, an eclectic mix of sweets sent from your family and treats bought at Honeydukes. It often left Ominis feeling a little sick, but he never minded, not when it meant he could spend time with you. Sometimes Sebastian joined in – but mostly not, his attentions captivated by his search for a cure.

And, Ominis was starting to realise, by Missy.

"He fancies her sooooo much," you said to him one day.

Ominis reclined against the wood. Even wrapped in blankets by a lit brazier, hushing the cold, he wasn't comfortable – he never would be, not when this meeting was illicit, stolen from beneath the stars. But there was something about you that relaxed him enough to forget it all, even temporarily.

"Do you think it's requited?"

"Er, yeah. Those two are always flirting." You threw a popping candy into your mouth, and it crackled as you spoke. "And goodness, you should see the looks they give each other. Seb makes googly eyes every time she looks at him, and she makes googly eyes when he's not looking."

For once, Ominis was grateful he didn't know what googly eyes were.

"What's she like?" he asked, curious. "Missy?"

You waited a moment, fishing for the right words.

"Intense."

"Like Sebastian then."

"In a different way. Sebastian is hell-bent on finding a cure for Anne. He has one goal in mind. But Missy isn't driven by one thing alone... but I don't know what drives her. She's extremely good at everything she does, spells and history and theory, but she always seems... guarded."

"Naturally, you took that as a challenge."

You made a raspberry noise. "No! I just happened to stand next to her in Flying. She's the sort of person you want as your friend, not your enemy."

That alone troubled him. "And paired with Sebastian makes a dangerous cocktail."

"You think she's encouraging the Dark Arts?"

"I know she's encouraging the Dark Arts."

You didn't reply to that, as unsure as he was.

"She's not a bad person, but she's definitely... hiding something."

She had her secrets. He had his as well, but his didn't try to lead his best friend into the waiting arms of Dark magic. Into Unforgivable Curses and choices that could not be taken back.

Letting Sebastian embrace the darkness was an option Ominis didn't even think to entertain. He was family, after all. Like you were, like Anne. A steadfast companion through thick and thin, through his best days and his worst – and now, when Sebastian needed him most, Ominis would not turn away.

A choice made despite its painful consequences, he now realises.

He remembers the first time he met him, all those years ago. It was not, in fact, in the dungeons of the Slytherin common room, their beds next to each other in the dorms by fate, but earlier, when they were both eleven and the Malfoys hosted an expensive soirée to officially welcome the new incoming year into the magical world.

Ominis already had his new wand and was relying on it excessively, since he discovered with its power his senses were more acute to his surroundings. It pulsed intermittently, moulding the world around him to a language he could understand. The Malfoy Manor ballroom was lit by chandeliers, torches burning along the walls, and a hearth, twice his height, the heat from it alone enough to make the whole house swelter. The floor was polished, heels squeaking along its smooth surface, and scents interwove like tapestry, roast pork and lavender bouquets and a tangle of overwhelming perfumes. How vast it all was, how grand. He imagined this was what it was like to see, to drink in the sights greedily, the world beyond his fingertips fascinating.

Unfortunately, to everyone else, it was not as fascinating as he himself.

"Behave yourself tonight, Ominis," his mother hissed to him as she shucked her coat, dropping it with a whumph onto a tiny house-elf's waiting arms. His father hadn't been able to attend, so she had taken his place, just as callous and stern, caring as much about family connections and alliances as the rest of them did. "Make friends with the older students. They will be your guides. The Nott girls are two years your senior, for example, and one of the Lestrange children three."

"Isn't there anyone starting in my year?"

"A few." Her sneer was audible. "The Reyes have a daughter – Imelda. I've never liked her mother, so uptight and condescending. The McDowells as well, but there's a rumour her father was unfaithful, probably with some Mudblood. It's a shame. The Malfoys, Blacks, and Ellingboes all have their children starting next year."

For some reason that brought him relief. His mother didn't let go of his collar though, thrusting him in front of her society friends and their progeny, sometimes too young for Hogwarts, sometimes having already started. Questions arrowed his way were never about his personality, his likes or dislikes – always, they opened with his eyes and their murkiness and the sight he did not have. One boy even farted and asked Ominis whether he could already smell it, which earnt a cuffing from his father, and led Ominis' mother to pull him away in disgust.

"Ominis," his mother said at one point, dropping her forced, sycophantic pitch. "You remember Phineas Black? He's the current headmaster at Hogwarts."

Oh, Ominis remembered Phineas Black all right. His unpleasantness was legendary.

"You will behave, won't you, Gaunt?" Professor Black spoke down to Ominis, voice a dismissive rumble that said he'd soon forget this exchange ever happened. "Every year there's always someone making unnecessary paperwork for me. Last year a group of sixth-year Gryffindors thought it would be funny to jinx my quills to sing every time I wrote a letter. If it were up to me, I would've had them lashed for insolence."

"It's what they deserved," his mother agreed.

"Alas, capital punishment is rather frowned upon these days. I had to settle with detention instead. And scrubbing the entire Hall of Herodiana with a single toothbrush."

Staying silent, Ominis thought, was the wise move.

Soon his mother tired of brandishing him like a prized Puffskein, leaving him unattended at the buffet table to entertain her friends. Ominis was alone – lonely, when the sounds of laughter and music were suffocating from the inside. He clutched his wand, using it to navigate to the closest wall, where a cascade of belladonna draped over stone. How was he supposed to network? There were too many bodies, too much noise.

"You're Ominis Gaunt."

In the chaotic din of the ballroom, he hadn't heard the snooty boy come up. He tuned to the voice, scolding himself inwardly. Pay more attention. "Yes."

"I'm Peregrine Malfoy."

Well, at least finding the Malfoys had been easy. Ominis frowned. "You're nine."

"Nearly ten."

"You don't start Hogwarts for another year. What do you want?"

"My father says I should introduce myself." Peregrine barely gave himself enough time to pause for breath. "What's it like being blind?"

The question fatigued him. "It's like being blind," he snapped, unable to help himself.

"That's not an answer."

"I can't give you an answer since I don't know what it's like being not."

"If you can't see, how are you going to do schoolwork?"

He thought about telling him about braille, but he was smart enough to know that Peregrine didn't actually want answers. He just wanted to prod where he didn't belong.

When Ominis didn't say anything, however, Peregrine took it as a sign of composed aloofness, and dragged him over to his own clique of friends. It was an overwhelming few moments, shaking hands, first names flying into one ear and out the other, the only one he recognised being Dorothy Ellingboe – his cousin once-removed. He barely knew her, the Ellingboes being an old wizarding family that originated in Norway that extended a branch into England to strengthen the line. Yet Dorothy was a sneering, simpering girl that thought herself better than everyone else, ugly in temperament as well as voice.

"So you're blind?" asked the Fawley boy. "Why can't you just use a spell to make yourself unblind?"

He resisted the urge to sigh. He'd done this rigmarole a thousand times before.

"It doesn't exist."

"Bet it does. You just need to think about the Latin. Vide means see. Have you tried doing that?"

Never, because his parents had already done it.

"Maybe," the boy continued, "you could take a potion. The powdered root of asphodel, for example—"

"Quiet, Hector," Peregrine muttered, facing the door. "Look who's just come in!"

"No way," said Dorothy, sniggering. "I'm surprised they could afford the Floo Powder to London!"

"They look like they've just climbed out of a fireplace, all right," said the Black boy, Ominis didn't remember his name – some pompous star, no doubt. "Like those peasant Muggle chimney sweeps."

"Who is it?" Ominis asked, feeling stupid and left out.

"It's the Stone-Broke Sallow Twins," said Peregrine. "Look at what they're wearing!"

Ominis couldn't see, but he could guess – plainly adorned breeches, or a threadbare frock. He felt the shift in the room as they entered with their uncle Solomon. His mother had babbled about the Sallows once or twice – their parents had been Hogwarts professors who died in a freak accident – often accompanied with similar contempt, but she disdained almost all of pure-blood society, so who really knew what they'd done to invite so much ire.

"We should invite them over, shouldn't we?" asked Peregrine. "That's the courteous thing to do."

"Ugh, this again?" said Imelda Reyes, with an audible roll of her eyes. "Can't we just have one party where we don't butt heads with the Sallow twins?"

"You're one to talk, Imelda," Hector muttered. "Butting heads is all you do every day."

"Only because you make it easy."

"Don't be a spoilsport," Peregrine jeered at her. "Honestly, you're just as bad as Kaydence Lestrange. If you're going to ruin the fun, run along to your parents and be dull with them."

Imelda made a noise like she was going to beat him, physically throw a punch, but instead stormed off.

"Oi, Sebastian, Anne!" With no one to stop him, and Ominis a quiet observer, Peregrine called out across the ballroom. "Come over here!"

Even with this supposed history between them, Sebastian and Anne came over. The tension ratcheted up.

"What do you want, Perry?" muttered Sebastian.

"Peregrine," the boy snapped. "I wanted to introduce you, because it's polite – not that you would know politeness. You remember Hector Fawley, Antares Black and Dorothy Ellingboe, and meet my new friend, Ominis Gaunt."

Friend? Hardly. Ominis had half a mind to run off with Imelda Reyes, and fought to keep a shudder off his face.

"So, who did you bribe?" asked Dorothy.

"What?" said Sebastian.

"To get in, of course," she said, like she was asking about the weather. "No way Edwin Malfoy invited you."

"He invited us," Sebastian said through gritted teeth, "because we're starting Hogwarts next year."

Hmm. Ominis' mother had failed to mention that.

"Can you even afford a wand?" Antares laughed.

"Yes." A soft whip noise as he withdrew it. "Would you like to see how it works?"

"Sebastian," Anne cautioned, grasping his sleeve.

Antares wasn't deterred. "Oh, please. I doubt you know a single spell."

Peregrine laughed then, laced with taunting. "Even if he did, I wouldn't worry, Antares. It's not like that wand chose him. It's probably a hand-me-down from his dead, mud-loving parents."

Ominis was suddenly knocked to the ground, wand scattered out of his grip. There was a struggle above, and Anne's voice rose above the boys' grunts.

"Leave it!" she demanded. "For goodness sake, Sebastian!"

Sebastian shook her off, but the fury was there. "Say one more word—"

"You'll what?" spurred Peregrine. "Cry about being a sad orphan?"

"Boys," came a thundering voice. This one Ominis recognised – Edwin Malfoy. "What's going on?"

The scuffling stopped at once. There were two wide steps back, echoing in the sudden quiet of the ballroom.

"Just some light banter, Father," Peregrine said immediately, still and cool. "Nothing to be concerned about."

Sebastian hastily cleared his throat. He knew the boundaries, too.

"Nothing at all, sir."

Edwin made a noise of disbelieving. "Play nice, Peregrine. You'll all be going to school together soon enough."

But when he left, and Peregrine did too, Hector, Antares and Dorothy dogging his heels, it was with a loud snigger, one that promised that this altercation wasn't the last. Ominis wasn't sure whether anyone even noticed him, left on the ground, panicking as his wand was nowhere close. He palmed the floor in frenzy, terrified someone would tread on his hands.

"Here." Anne tapped his arm, then looped hers with his. "Let me help you up."

He stood. "My wand—"

"It's here." Sebastian pressed it into Ominis' shoulder, and he took it, grateful. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you over."

He was pretty sure it was Peregrine's elbow that went wide, since he was standing right next to him, but an apology of any kind was novel.

"Are you hurt?" asked Anne.

"Just my ego," said Ominis, which made her laugh.

"Ominis Gaunt, right?" Sebastian contemplated a moment. "So you really are blind— ow! Anne!"

"Don't be so rude!" she snapped. "He already knows!"

He did, but he couldn't help but grin anyway.

"You don't like Peregrine Malfoy?"

"Don't like?" Sebastian crowed. "I'd rather lick the underside of a Graphorn's arse than—" He seemed to remember himself. "I-I mean, you know, he can be, er, difficult—"

"It's all right," said Ominis, grinning. "I bet a Graphorn's bottom spews a lot less manure."

Sebastian let out a hysterical bark. Even Anne giggled.

"Thank goodness. We thought we were the only ones who didn't like him. He's so pretentious."

"Hector, Antares and Dorothy can shove it too," said Sebastian. "Mean gits with bad manners. They're all the same. And we're the twins here!"

Ominis tried to picture them, identical, but all he could imagine was their voices, how they inflected the same, laughed the same, spoke in the same accents.

"Dorothy is my cousin, actually."

"What?" said Sebastian.

"Oh, no," said Anne quickly, "h-he didn't mean—"

"And she's horrible."

This time they all laughed.

"I don't understand though. Why don't they like you?"

"Because we don't have money," Anne said, harrumphing as she did. "Because we live in a hamlet and not a fancy house, like this one. Stone-Broke."

"And don't forget Mama and Papa," Sebastian added. "They didn't care about blood or whatever, and taught everyone at Hogwarts when they were professors."

"Like they could turn away the Muggle-borns!"

Aunt Noctua, then, wasn't the only pure-blood to have such radical opinions. He may not have totally agreed, not when he'd yet to meet a Muggle-born, yet to have these notions proven, but it made him like these two, this odd pair the society kids disdained, all that much more.

He stayed with them for the rest of the party. The pair were hoping to follow their parents into Slytherin, same as Ominis; Sebastian liked Aurors and fighting magic, whereas Anne was eclectic, her interests broad yet undefined. Both of them shared an insatiable thirst for knowledge, and eventually even Anne caved to asking about Ominis' condition: how the wand helped him, how he sensed the world. This time he didn't mind their questions. They treated him like a person, not a pet.

When the party was over, Sebastian and Anne promised to wait for him when he arrived at Hogsmeade Station on the first of September. They promised to see their first few months together, as a team. Ominis left the party feeling lighter than he had all summer.

"The Sallows?" A hum escaped his mother's lips when he told her of his new friends. "They're poor. No money to their name, and their parents were happy to educate the Mudbloods at school. Still, they're dead now, and I'm loath to admit they both come from good breeding..."

That had been good enough.

And indeed, Sebastian and Anne had been waiting on the first of September, as they said they would, on the platform. They'd walked into the Great Hall with arms linked, taking in the new sights, smells and sounds, and rejoiced when they were Sorted into Slytherin together. Anne had sought to make her own friends and establish herself independently, free from Sebastian's influence – the last thing she wanted was to live in her boisterous brother's shadow for her entire Hogwarts tenure – but always she came back to him and Ominis. They hung about in the Undercroft, playing Gobstones, testing new jinxes, enjoying their newfound freedom and space.

Eventually she grew fond of you too, like he had. When your schedules worked, you were a tenacious quartet, three pure-blood Slytherins and one, odd little Muggle-born Hufflepuff.

Once you were all best friends. You were family.

Now the darkness threatened to ruin everything.

When the Astronomy deck was occupied, Ominis invited you to the Undercroft. It was dismal there – a reason you didn't enjoy it as much as anywhere else in the castle. Not a reason he understood, of course, but he never pretended to comprehend your particulars, nor your need for natural light. Nonetheless, you agreed on occasion. It was private, it was his, and it was safe.

Until it was no longer any of those things.

He headed down the lift to meet you, excitement brimming in his bones. December had long since arrived, and the chill along with it, weeping from the underground walls. He'd come earlier than planned, prepared to make the place as welcoming as possible. Lit torches, pillows and blankets, sweets, whatever it took.

But as the lift clunked to a stop, a female voice drifted down the hallway.

And it wasn't yours.

"Don't you think you should tell him?"

"What? About our frolicking around for the triptych?"

"It's not funny, Sebastian," Missy scolded. "You can't keep the relic a secret. It's thanks to him that you have this spellbook in the first place."

Ominis' excitement vanished, replaced with the emptiness that came after a string of broken promises.

"I know that," Sebastian admitted, "but if it works, then he'll see we have nothing to worry about. If the relic really can reverse Anne's curse, he'll see that nothing was in vain."

"He'll find out one way or another."

"It won't be from me." There was a hopeful inflection to him. "And... from you?"

She sighed. "I... suppose not."

"I promise," he said, so believing of own delusions, "it's for his own good."

Ominis threw up the gate then.

"I'll decide what's for my own good."

He sensed it then, the small things. A sharp intake of breath. Sebastian's fingers on crinkled paper – his feet moving to block the book.

"You lied to me," Ominis said, thrusting his wand at his friend. "You swore—"

"I actually said I understood—"

"Don't be deliberately obtuse. You knew exactly what you were implying."

"Ominis, please, see reason." Sebastian was calm, which was even more infuriating. "I love Anne, more than the world. Wouldn't you do anything for someone you loved?"

"You're arguing a pointless moral question."

"Am I? You have Gibby, after all."

It was like stone in his gullet.

"Don't you dare compare our situations."

"Why? It's no different."

"I'm not resorting to Dark Magic to talk to her!"

"But you are half in love with her. You're willing to risk being a blood traitor to your family for her."

Hearing him say it out loud was unfathomable.

"I— I'm not—" he stammered. "This is besides the point—"

"It isn't." He pushed past Ominis, spellbook in hand. "We're both willing to do whatever it takes. You do it your way. This," he said, "is mine."

Sebastian had gone through the gate when Ominis yelled, "Your obsession will cost you!"

His friend didn't reply. Soon the lift ascended the shaft, and Sebastian was gone.

Missy stepped forwards. "Ominis—"

"No, you don't get a say!" he barked. "You shouldn't even be here. This is my place. I didn't invite you. Sebastian shouldn't have brought you here!"

"He— he thought you'd be okay with it," she said quietly. "I would've found this place eventually."

"How? Only the Gaunts know of it!"

She didn't answer. Typical.

"I know you've been encouraging this— this madness—"

"I want to help him," she insisted, "but I'm trying to rein him in. I promise."

"Your promises mean nothing to me."

The gate opened then. In you ambled, jovial and beatific.

"Hello!" you piped. "I passed Sebastian on the way here, but he— Missy? What are you—?"

"She was just leaving," Ominis said.

Missy hesitated – a second, two. There was more she wanted to say.

Then, "Yes. I'm sorry to disturb you both."

When she left, you pattered over, joy diminished.

"Something happened, didn't it?"

He blew breath from his teeth. "Something always happens."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Frankly, all he wanted to do was scream, but telling you would do for now, though he was careful to leave out the being in love with you part. The way Sebastian threw it out there so casually... it unsettled him that these secret feelings he'd been trying to quash were so conspicuous. Sebastian was reckless and willing to do anything – would that include divulging Ominis' darkest secret? Did he have to fear the power his friend had over him now, too?

By the time he was done, both of you were leaning against the pillars, your legs tucked against your chest, his anger decaying to a low ache.

"But he doesn't know where the relic is?"

"It's only a matter of time." Ominis was certain of it.

You hummed. "I didn't realise how bad it was. Poor Anne..."

Anne, the victim in this, had her voice filched by her brother a long time ago.

"I'll write to her tonight," you said. "Sebastian has always been too headstrong for his own good."

"I can't lose him," he whispered, a shattering realisation. "Not like I lost Anne, and... and you."

"You haven't lost me."

"You are the one good thing in my life right now," he said, voice broken with rage and pain, "and we can't even talk in the hallway!"

You leant against him then, shoulder to shoulder. And there it was, like clockwork.

Strawberry laces.

"Then let's be two normal people right now. Just... for a little while. Like before."

Before. The nostalgia was painful. He missed those simpler times, when it was you, him, Sebastian and Anne, parading around Hogwarts without a care in the world.

Now Anne was cursed.

Now Sebastian was obsessed.

Now you had become a dirty secret.

And he clung to you, begging fate not to steal you too.

He smiles now, a memory coming back to him fondly. A memory of first year, after Christmas lapsed and the snow and ice were finally retreating from the grass. Exams were looming on the horizon.

And you were doing terribly in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Though you were Muggle-born and humbling to the magical world, though you knew your grades were poor enough to raise concern, you swaggered into the Clocktower Courtyard that afternoon like an untouchable knight.

"Someone's confident," said Anne. She, and Ominis and Sebastian, had been waiting for you.

"Always," you trilled. "I may be the worst duellist in Hufflepuff—"

"Try the whole year," muttered Sebastian.

"— but I have the most fun, so who's really winning?"

Ominis snorted. You swatted his arm lightly.

"You're going to fail the class if you don't get better at duelling, so," a little teasing fluttered through Anne's declaration, "we're going to be your new teachers."

"You may only address me as Professor Sallow from now on," said Sebastian airily. He paced, drawing Ominis' ear across the courtyard. "And I don't plan on going easy on you."

Your bravado vanished "Do we really have to do this? Have you all fight me at the same time?"

"Diamonds are made under pressure, aren't they?"

"I don't want to be a diamond. A nice, sturdy rock would do."

"You sound scared, Gibby."

"Of course I am! It's three against one!"

"All you have to do is protect yourself," said Anne. She stepped backwards six paces, and Ominis copied. "A simple Protego spell. Okay?"

"If I say not okay, will you leave me be?"

"Stupefy!" Sebastian cried.

"EEEEEK!" Instead of blocking, you pitched to the ground as the spell hissed on stone behind you. "Hey! I-I wasn't ready!"

"Sometimes you won't be ready!" Sebastian said darkly. Then, "Come on, Ominis. Help me."

He wasn't certain attacking you this way was the best way to learn, but, well, there was something about diamonds and pressure. Hogwarts was a safe haven, protected by enchantments more powerful than a dynasty, more ancient than a family tree, but the outside world wasn't so kind. It was cruel. He wanted you to prepare, because Sebastian was right: one day you might not get the chance.

He shifted his weight. "Impedimenta!"

You dodged that one, too.

"Ominis!"

"What?"

"You're being— mean!"

He threw up his hands in exasperation.

"Come on, Gibby! At least try!" Anne's boots scraped against stone. "Accio!"

You stumbled forwards. "Ack! P-Protego!"

"Crus Vacillare!"

A soft thud. You tripped over yourself.

"Too weak," Sebastian called. "You have to mean it."

"I-I am meaning it!" You stood. "I-It's just— hard!"

"How about we make it more interesting?" he suggested with a flinty smugness. "If you don't cast Protego successfully... we all get to eat your sweet stash."

Your gasp was unfiltered. "You wouldn't."

Ominis sighed. He would.

Sebastian danced on the balls of his feet. "Again!"

Anne's voice was clear. "Aqua Eructo!"

"P-Protego!"

Water gushed forwards, but judging by only the slight squeal you let out, your charm had been slightly successful.

"That's more like it!" Sebastian yelled. "Again! Impedimenta!"

"Prote— ah!" You were laughing suddenly. "Look! I'm sooooo slooooow."

"Gibby!" Anne cried. "Do you want us to eat your year's supply of Fizzing Whizbees?"

"And all your toffee nougat?" added Sebastian.

"And," Ominis smiled, "your strawberry laces?"

"Okay, okay! I swear I am trying." You inhaled deeply. "Give me the one-two, Ominis!"

He wouldn't attack you very hard. Despite everything, he couldn't bring himself to.

"Levioso!"

"Protego!"

Zing. The spell lanced off the shield.

"Ah!" you cried. "I-I did it!"

Anne came closer. "Only because Ominis is holding back," she sang.

"He's not!" A pause. "... Are you?"

Ominis grimaced, which made Sebastian snigger.

"Boo!" you pouted. "I-I could defeat you, for real!"

He sincerely doubted that. His family had been instilling duelling technique and practice since he got his wand, in first year. It was imperative, they believed, that Ominis learn to defend himself, use his magic to the fullest potential, to prevent their 'enemies' from taking advantage. Their words. It was why he knew Crucio so early into his education, why he knew too much about Dark Magic. He suspected there was more to it – that they feared, because he was blind, he was more susceptible to defeat. Still, he liked to think he'd done well to keep up.

But he was nonchalant with you, not wanting to pop the balloon of your confidence. "Are you challenging me to a duel?"

"Yeah, I am! Let's do this!"

He swung around to create space between you, amused – but if it helped to improve your grade, he was glad.

"Two Sickles says Ominis ends up on his arse," Anne muttered.

Sebastian let out a single, hysterical laugh. "I'll happily take that bet."

"Thanks, Anne," muttered Ominis.

"Thanks, Anne!" you chirruped.

She was right though. For someone who'd only just learnt Protego, your ego was inflated. He had been holding back because he didn't want to injure you, nor your pride, but there was a fine line between that and arrogance. He raised his wand in your direction, preparing a list of spells to use.

"Duellists, bow!" Sebastian called.

He dipped his head. Presumably you dipped yours.

"Ready?" Anne called. "And... go!"

"Impedimenta!"

"Pro— eeek!" You rolled out of the way. "Wait— let me think— Stupefy!"

The spell skimmed his ear. Well. That was unexpected.

"Accio!"

"Protego!"

A great block. You squealed delightedly.

"That's it, Gibby!" yelled Anne.

"Flatten her, Ominis!" yelled Sebastian.

Ominis scoffed. "Impedimenta!"

You parried the blow again, retaliating with your own. He was starting to enjoy the competition, the fierceness of your pushback. You traded blow for blow with him, soon finding a rhythm that worked for you.

Sweat was collecting on his brow. "Diffindo!"

You cried out then, a wild howl, and crumpled to the ground.

"Nice!" called Sebastian.

Ominis smiled.

"Gibby?"

You didn't respond. You didn't move.

Horror washed over him – he hadn't meant to hit you so hard... he only wanted to graze!

Panicking, he ran over, robes fluttering. "I— I'm so sorry—"

"Flipendo!"

Suddenly he was gyrating through the air, spinning and helpless—

"Arresto Momentum!"

Anne's spell prevented him from smacking his head. Instead, he plonked to the ground, unharmed. Then you were standing above him, clapping, jumping with joy.

"Hahah, you fell for my trick! You did!"

He grunted, sore. "It was... clever."

A mistake. You let it fuel your slightly maniacal laugh.

"I am undefeatable! Unstoppable! Un... Un-attackable!"

"That's not a word." Still he filled with pride and got to his feet. "Well done."

"Yeah, good show, Gibby. Now you won't fail DADA miserably," said Anne. Then she coughed. "Looks like someone owes me two Sickles."

Sebastian grumbled and placed the tinkling coins in her hand.

"I have you all to thank," you said, humbler now. "I will carry these lessons forever, Professor Sallow, Professor Sallow... and Professor Gaunt."

But that wasn't end of them. From then, Ominis didn't underestimate you. He duelled you again and again, testing you, noting your mistakes, but he'd learnt from his own – not to fall for your trickery again. For any trickery. It gave him a sense of peace to know, should the time come, you could hold your own now.

A time, Ominis anticipated, that would come sooner rather than later.

"Where are you going?"

His and Sebastian's clashing ideas had been left unspoken, like shattered glass left on the ground between them, neither willing to pick up the pieces.

"I don't like the accusation in your tone, Ominis," said his friend, shunting another article of clothing into a bag. Their dorm was empty, a rare moment for a Friday morning. "I'm just going to visit Anne for the weekend. That's all."

But Ominis wasn't stupid – he heard the clinking of glass, the sharp, clinical scent of dittany. Who packed Wiggenweld Potion for a weekend home? It honed his suspicions immediately.

"I see," he said at last. "When do you plan to go?"

"Tomorrow morning, after breakfast."

"May I come along? I haven't seen Anne in a while."

But Sebastian was hesitant. "I'm sorry. I just... don't think it's a good idea."

Ominis relented. For now. When he left the dorm, he summoned the house owl with a click of his fingers. For once, he didn't give a damn if he got caught – this was something too worrying to go through the discreet channels with you. He had the Quick-Quotes Quill scribble the note.

Wooden Bridge, 6pm. Urgent.

At six o'clock, during the feast, he was there, waiting, leaning against the crooked panelling and let the biting wind chop across his hair and face. The air was parched today, snow impending but hesitant to fall. Even stacked in layers, a chill ran through him.

He heard the tell-tale clop of your boots, hurrying to meet him. Your breaths came out in shuddering pants.

"What's wrong?" you asked at once. In public, yet you didn't care, coming right up to him, halting a hand's reach away. "Are you hurt?"

"No," he said. "I'm sorry to call you out here, but it's Sebastian."

"Is he hurt?"

"I think he's about to do something stupid," he murmured. "And reckless."

You sighed. "I would have so many Galleons if I bet on him doing something stupid and reckless."

A fair point, but it was especially poignant now. After the argument, the feeling of trust in his friend had eroded. Now that trust was pocked with holes, and those holes were quickly filling with suspicion.

"Have you seen Missy?"

"Today? We did some homework during our morning free period. I asked her if she wanted to finish it tonight, but she said she was going to pack for Irondale. She's going there for the weekend – some catacombs, I think, to pay respects."

Irondale wasn't far from Feldcroft.

It seemed to click for you at the same time.

"You don't think— the relic—"

"I do," muttered Ominis. "In fact, I have a feeling I know where they're going." His heart thundered. "You said she was leaving tomorrow?"

"Yep."

"Have you seen her since this morning?"

You hesitated. So that was a no. Sebastian hadn't been around since the morning either.

They've already left.

You stomped your foot. "Oh, sugar, honey, iced tea!"

"... What?"

"Sugar, honey— never mind, Muggle thing. What do we do?"

"We have to go after them. If they've had a break-through with the artefact, it could put them in grave danger."

"But if they left earlier today, they could be there by now!"

He struggled to think. "Then we fly."

"We— fly?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

"But, Ominis— I'm a terrible flier! Madam Kogawa has made me take first year classes every year!"

He wanted to reach for you, to imbue you with confidence. Flying was your weak point, he knew. You loved the sensation – not so much the control it required.

"It has to be you. I can't navigate." He didn't want to push you, but this time he insisted. The stakes were too great. "If we don't do this... Sebastian and Missy..."

"I know," you said, defeated. "Ugh, okay. Meet me at the end of the bridge. I'll get a school broom."

It took you little over ten minutes, to rush to the front lawns and snag a broom from the cupboards. He heard the one you chose guttering over the horizon, shakily hovering to a stop next to him. You took his sleeve.

"I really think this is a bad idea. What if— what if we crash?"

"We won't crash."

"What if you plummet off the side and I can't catch you?"

"I won't plummet."

"What if Ranrok's loyalists shoot us down?"

"They won't spot us."

"... You're suspiciously optimistic."

"I'm moderately realistic," he corrected. "We don't have time to waste."

"Okay." Your grip wavered, even as you guided him to the broom. "Hop on."

It was a sudden hesitation that gripped him then, stuffed cotton down his throat. Because he hadn't considered how, exactly, he would be travelling. That for this to work, he would have to share a broom with you, holding onto your waist for support.

He swallowed, though his mouth was dry, and settled over the broom shaft. Already you were close – too close for him to fathom, the scent of strawberry laces suppressing the billows of pine and lake waters that swept in from the south. His fingers hovered, mere centimetres away from your waist. Even the brush of your coat was enough to drive his mind to catatonia.

"Are you, erm," you said shyly, "are you going to hold on?"

"Y-yes," he choked out stupidly, "right."

He reached around, looping his arms around you, pulling you close. Your back fit neatly against his chest, your heat and warmth abolishing the cold, your head tucking beneath his chin, a swathe of your hair under his nose. Already he was nervous, already he gnawed with worry for Sebastian and Missy, and yet this was the moment he almost unravelled. You were his safety. You were the wind beneath him, buoyant and uplifting.

"Hold tight," you mumbled, voice a vibration through his own chest, which only made him even more delirious. "Three, two—"

You pushed with your legs, sending you both cracking into the air. Stomach yanking down to his legs, his grip cinched, and he cried out as you shot them upwards so fast he didn't get to take a breath. You were hitting max speed too quickly. Wind churned around his ears, sluiced along his toes – you might have yelled something that he couldn't understand.

You steadied the broom, levelling them with the horizon, but he didn't dare loosen his grip. Flying was terrifying, and magnificent, and it was twice as terrifying and magnificent with you.

"Merlin's beard, Gibby! Slow down!"

"S-Sorry!" you called, fear and exhilaration evident. "I'm going right. Brace yourself!"

You leant starboard, and he leant with you. Now that you were pulling on the shaft, the broom slowed to a decent pace, enough that he could hear the sky. The distant rush of train and trees, the snake of the river that ribboned through the valley, a humming thread. Wind, carding through his clothes. He rested his chin on you, and your hair curled against his face, each tendril like a cat's tail, flickering and restlessness.

A thought came to him, unbidden. What would it be like to kiss the top of your head? To draw the hair away from your neck, and place his lips there too? Desire burned through him, drunk on adrenaline and nerves, and he had to clench his jaw to dispel the feelings.

Now was not the time. In fact, there was no time when such thoughts were appropriate.

Yet they came to him nonetheless.

"W-We're going between Irondale and Feldcroft," he pushed out through gritted teeth, through his useless feelings. "South of the mountain peak!"

He feared landing with you even more than take-off, but by some miracle, you managed to shakily jettison them between a cluster of trees, on an even patch of grass. The ground came up hard though, and he took the brunt in his knees, crying out as he fell to the side, the handle tangled between his legs. You stumbled off the broom into a patch of honking daffodils.

"Ack— Gibby?"

"I'm okay!" you chanted, voice pilfered by the tooting flowers. "Just bruised my bum! You?"

"I bruised my everything."

"... Touché."

You came over, sliding the broom from beneath him and helping him to stand. The touch was innocent, and yet your hand in his, with the flight fresh in his mind, hyper-aware of the proximity of you, stoked his cheeks to flames and his heart to a marching drumbeat.

You let go almost instantly, but it was enough.

"Well," you said, "that wasn't so bad."

"We almost died," he muttered. "Twice."

"My lowest record yet, so be grateful. Are we close?"

He withdrew his wand, and the scenery fell into place in his mind. The evergreen honeysuckle, dotting the nearby dirt paths, wending through the uneven terrain of the countryside. A flash of hard, callous stone. A funny taste of smoke and ash, like an unpleasant bonfire. Strange. Nonetheless, you were close – very close, in fact, that he recognised the nearest stretch of fencing, leading towards the Feldcroft Catacombs.

"It's just south of here," he said. "Let's go."

When you reached the cave entrance, the great stone wall had been moved. Someone was already inside, and casting Revelio showed that it was not too late, that the footsteps before you were fresh. You propped the broom aside and went to go in, but he reached for you, held you for a moment – that stupid feeling stirred within him again.

"Wait. Let's— let's think. I don't think it's a good idea they see us."

"Why?"

Truthfully, he didn't know. Perhaps it was only to see what they were doing. Perhaps it was only so he could have you to himself, just a little longer.

"We ought to be cautious," he amended.

You gasped, suddenly excited. "Ominis Gaunt... are you suggesting a stealth mission?"

"Hardly," he retorted. "Let's just— keep our distance."

"Okay." But you were practically bouncing. "We have to catch up to them first. We'll need to be quick."

"Lead the way."

So you closed your hand in his, and led him inside.

The way was dark and cold, a bone-deep sort of eeriness. You cast Lumos, and he did too, to help you see. Together you ran across the dust-ridden earth, over bones and rat droppings and the splattered blood of spiders, pricking the air with a tangy note. You shuddered when a few of the babies crawled into view, but it seemed that Sebastian and Missy had cleared the larger ones out.

Still, you didn't let your fears daunt you. It was quite something to feel your determination, vibrating through your touch, the tremble that went through you as you held his hand to guide him. It gave him courage and might, especially when the quiet sank deeply into him, an omen of trouble to come.

Only at the heart of the catacomb did familiar snippets of voice quell the silence.

"They're close," he whispered to you.

You cast Disillusionment, and he quickly followed. Your boots steps were light, but still the ground crunched. It was enough to let them pursue, closer and closer, until the voices crystallised.

"The relic must be nearby," Sebastian was saying – the desperation in his voice was like nothing Ominis had ever heard before. "I can feel it."

Missy tsked. "Stay focused. I believe there's another chamber ahead – and we have yet to face any of the matriarchs."

"Bet they'll be thrilled when they find their friends dead."

They hurried ahead – you followed.

"Thank you," Sebastian said suddenly. You stopped, causing Ominis to bump into the back of you. "Thank you for doing this."

"It's nothing."

"Nothing? You're risking your life for me, and for Anne."

She didn't reply.

"Why?" he asked into the brazen silence, surprise tinting his voice. "Why are you helping me? I know you partway agree with Ominis, and you barely know Anne. You barely know me."

"Can I not help anyway?"

"No one wants for nothing."

Missy was quiet a moment.

"Perhaps. I'm not entirely altruistic."

"So?" he asked again. "What's your price?"

And she said, "Redemption," like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Redemption?" you muttered to Ominis, at the same time Sebastian said, "Redemption for what?"

But Missy simply scuffed a rock. "Come, we're nearly at the end."

Intense and guarded indeed. You crept forwards on light feet, and Ominis dogged your heel, unsure what to make of the conversation.

There wasn't time to dwell when the spiders descended, great hulking beasts that shook the ground, all the way through his feet. He felt you stiffen beneath your grip – the sight of them must've been terrifying.

"T-There's so many—"

Still, Sebastian and Missy had charged in, spilling enemy blood against the walls.

"S-Should we help them?" you asked.

Ominis hesitated. "No. Perhaps— perhaps it will deter them."

But of course it didn't. The spiders kept coming, vicious wave after vicious wave, and yet, Sebastian and Missy's resolve never puddled.

"Depulso!"

Missy sent the spider soaring. Unfortunately, it landed on its feet.

Right next to you.

Disillusionment wasn't strong enough so close. The creature heckled, then screeched, sucking up venom through its body, guttering, preparing to shoot—

"No, look out!" you yelled.

It spat venom and you shoved him, hard against the ground. The concealment broke, but the venom hissed against the rock face where his head had been.

"Sorry— it was going to hurt you—"

"No time." He got to his feet, helped you and readied his wand. "Ready?"

"Can't really say no." Then, loudly and brashly, "Confringo!"

The spell blasted the spider backwards. Despite your terrible fear of spiders and insects, you ran into the fray and zapped another off its perch above. Pride reared through him again. That duelling practice, all those years ago, had not been for nought.

"Gibby?" Sebastian yelled. Then, with even more shock, "Ominis?"

"Less talking, more blasting!" he said.

One by one, the spiders were felled. It seemed endless, the onslaught – when one died, three more would surface their way up to take its place. He worried for you, panicked nearly, but remembered to trust you to defend yourself. In fact, you all shielded one another, in tune like an orchestra, thrumming to each other's beat. Sebastian's Exploding charms gave you the opportunity to flee when you were overwhelmed. Missy froze the spiderlings to let Ominis deal with the mothers. Then there were moments he couldn't explain – moments where even magic didn't seem to be the answer. Explosions like lightning, striking down their shrieking enemies, the air charged with a sharp tang of it. Always it followed Missy like a storm cloud, she its wild epicentre.

"Ominis," she called, "watch out!"

The spider had been in front of him – he was certain of it. But suddenly it was not, and Missy was stomping down, crushing shell and bone beneath her boot. How, when it is twice the size of me?

He let the questions fester until the spiders were all dead. Hot breath escaped him in shallow bites, there was foreign blood splattered on his front, and his arm was sore from casting so much, so frantically – but he was alive, and so were you, and Sebastian and Missy.

"What..." Sebastian managed a long breath. "What the hell are you two doing here?"

It was the offence he took that boiled Ominis' blood.

"I could very well ask you the same thing," he snapped back, advancing on Sebastian. "You told me you were going to see Anne!"

Still, Sebastian did the unthinkable.

He turned away.

"I knew it. You are here for the relic!" Ominis yelled. "Don't you dare, Sebastian—"

"Or what?" Sebastian challenged, swinging back to face him. "Why are you so determined to stop me? To stop me from helping Anne?"

"Because you are losing yourself! Because the Dark Arts seem harmless until it is too late."

"Anne is in pain every damn day!"

"A Dark artefact will. Not. Work!" His wand hand shook. "It will not reverse the curse and it will require a sacrifice too steep to pay!"

"You haven't tried! You can't possibly know what will happen!" He laughed suddenly. "Your family is broken, Ominis. You don't understand what it's like for me to fight for mine."

He was enraged, but a new feeling came swooping in, extinguishing and final. Hurt.

"That... that is a low blow—"

"Wait," Missy said, perturbingly cool. "Let's not argue."

"Yes," you agreed at once. "We can compromise."

"And you?" Sebastian scoffed at you. "Are you going to stop me, even though you love Anne too? Are you going to side with Ominis because you always do?"

Your reply was injured. "T-There are no sides, Sebastian—"

"If you're going to stop me, then there are sides!" he bellowed. Ominis heard the wooden whip of his wand. "I'm taking that relic. So step aside."

Ominis gripped his wand tightly.

"I will not."

"Stop," snapped Missy, and this time, she was no longer composed. She was firm, commanding. "We're not fighting. That's absurd."

"Only one of us gets our way," Sebastian muttered. "Are you going to strike me, Ominis? Are you?"

"Sebastian, go stand over there. Cool off, for goodness sake." Suddenly someone hooked Ominis' arm – Missy, dragging him away. "You, with me. Gibby—"

But you were already heading towards Sebastian. Ominis hoped you were talking it out, telling him why it was a bad idea – he had to trust that you could convince him.

He yanked off Missy's grip. "You can't seriously think taking that relic—"

"I know it's risky," Missy hissed at him, "but Sebastian has made up his mind. There's no convincing him otherwise. I tried."

"Not hard enough!"

"He's relentless, Ominis. The only thing we can do now is to let it play out, and minimise the consequences."

It was so ridiculous he laughed. "What was it you said you sought? Redemption?" He flung the word back at her. "Tell me, how does encouraging Dark Magic redeem you?"

By the elongated pause, he'd cracked through her impervious armour.

"How did you—?" Then, he was met with cold steel. "My reasons are my own and not for you to know. I'm trying to take the middle path here, but you're both being impossible."

"I'm trying to stop him making a stupid mistake!"

"And are you willing to ruin your friendship over it?"

His next words rammed themselves back down his throat.

Because the answer was no. He wasn't.

"Ominis," and he hated how perfectly reasonable she sounded, "there will be no talking him out of this. He is beyond reasoning now. So you either step aside, or fight. Your choice."

He knew what it was like to steep in the Dark Arts. He understood its allure, its false promises. Yet even so, he couldn't possibly let these years slip through his fingers like sand. He couldn't possibly release all the joy and jokes, the laughter, the pranks and brotherly love shared between the two of them. Sebastian was an anchor in the perpetual raging sea of Ominis' life. Anne had already been taken from him too soon, and you were teetering close to the edge, risking so much with his family's hatred encroaching you.

If Ominis lost Sebastian, he lost everything.

"You—" Anguish tore him from within. "I... I will step aside."

"A wise choice."

"But I will not stop fighting for him. I won't."

She didn't reply. She merely called Sebastian over to the relic, which fell into her pocket for safe-keeping, and then they were leaving.

"For what it's worth," Sebastian said as he passed on the way out, voice broken with his own hurt, "I... I'm sorry we can't agree on this."

Ominis didn't respond.

They left.

He was alone with you.

There was nothing to say, nothing that could be said. He felt his chest breaking, fracturing into pieces, slowly but surely taking his resolve down until it was lying in dereliction before him. A lump that had swollen in his throat became painful.

Why? he wondered. Why does the darkness haunt me so?

You didn't have to say anything. You simply took his hands in yours, rubbed your thumb over his trembling knuckles.

And he fell into your arms, and cried.

[FIRST][PREV][NEXT]

Thank you to my tag list: @cordidy @witchyafterdark If you'd like to be added/ removed, please let me know 💚

[Divider credits]

[marengogo]

Are You Sure?! - #1: A Vampire’s Utopia

Who by Jimin focused playlist 

[Music is a very big part of my life and I’m MOSTLY INCAPABLE of writing without music, so I just thought I'd share what I am listening to while writing this]

–🐺–🐺–🐺–

Hello my JM & JK Loving Gurls, Bois and Enbys! 

How have we all been since Thursday? 😌 Who’s watched both episodes at least 3 times? 🤡 Who’s gonna keep watching the episodes until Thursday? 💜 Who’s been left marvelling, yet again, about how intricately beautiful human beings are 🙋🏾‍♀️…

Oh! Only me?! 👀.

... Well what can I say? If it weren’t for my undying love for movies I would have definitely chosen a job related to psychology. Now whether I would have turned out to be a help or a menace to society, is anyone’s guess, after all, there is no sense, or point, in speculating things that have no way of presently happening due to decisions made in the past. However, do y'all know what we can speculate on? The present based on actions that actually happened in the past.

I’ve admittedly rewatched both episodes of AYS for the fourth time yesterday for research purposes obviously, and what brings me here is that now very infamous moment there are presently ao3 books being written on this particular moment ? The one when my cutie-patootie twin-flame very concisely summarises his and JM’s “solo/chapter 2 relationship”, up to that point (which to be precise, is the period of time between 14 July 2022: Hobi’s Listening Party and 13 July 2023: AYS in USA… exactly 1 year: DAMN!) as per below:

First time I saw this part, the first thing I did was snort and then I immediately thought: DRAMA QUEEN and trust me, I would know. Oh, and let it be clear, I can only attempt to speculate on my twin-flame, especially in cases like this when I strongly feel that my boi has been … misunderstood. If it weren’t clear enough from the title, this is indeed a JK post you know JM-blood thirsting vampire etc etc etc.

Let's start with the fact that I beleive that JM was simply trying to start a simple bit of banter when he said:

And I would sincerely like to apologise to JM cause, indeed, this simple type of banter would have warranted a just as simple type of reply. Something like what JK eventually ended up saying after he allowed his thoughts to come forth and take the stage, but we will address this in a second:

But no.

You see, homeboi over here seems to be the type to hold on to things and will not let go until he’s cleared things, or situations, in the way he has known and/or perceived them to have happened, which tend to happen a lot when you are a very emotional person, who isn’t necessarily as eloquent. The most important thing to understand here, however, is the fact that whatever topic such people decide to discuss is all according to their most sensible account of facts and perceptions. They don't mean to offend or distort truths, they just ... emote for lack of better words. For example, it is a fact that, during that period, JK & JM were both busy, it is apparently also a fact that JK didn’t call, but according to JM it is not a fact that he himself didn’t call. 

Does that make JK a liar? In my opinion, not only can't I know what actually happened, but in fact, that is absolutely not the point of the case at hand. The way I see it, this is simply how JK has perceived this particular absence in his life, during that particular period. In fact, let’s dive even deeper.

Because of those two sentences, you’d I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT MANY DO ... think that JM and JK actually never met each other during that particular period of time 14 July 2022 - 13 July 2023. Now, I am sure we all remember him sorta/kinda pining on weverse during the period from 3 February 2023 and 14 March 2023, right?:

But let’s quickly look at a timeline of the 14 July 2022: Hobi’s Listening Party and 13 July 2023: AYS in USA period. Below are dates when they definitely met, with other members, that we are aware of. I’ve also inserted his most relevant weverse pinings, and the period of time they were busy at the same time, just for me to have a time reference:

・14 JULY 2022: J-HOPE’S LISTENING PARTY - OT6 (Yoongi was sick)

・1 SEPTEMBER 2022: JUNGKOOK BIRTHDAY - JM waint with Hobi to celebrate his birthday

・15 OCTOBER 2022 - BUSAN CONCERT - OT7

・12 DECEMBER 2022 - JIN’S ENLISTMENT SEND-OFF - OT7 

・most likely FEBRUARY-MARCH 2023 - LIKE CRAZY DANCE PRACTICE - JK went to see JM practice

 3 Feb 2023 - 14 Mar 2023 ——— LIGHT WEVERSE PINING - The above collage period

・25 MARCH 2023 - MEMBERS MEET WITH JIN DURING HIS HOLIDAY - OT7

27 March 2023 ——— HEAVY WEVERSE PINING - JK posting “I miss you”, then watching Suchita and reacting to JM content.

・18 APRIL 2023 - HOBI’S ENLISTMENT SEND-OFF - OT7

April - May ——— both JK & JM are travelling around the world for work and/or pleasure.

・25 JUNE 2023 - D-DAY in SEOUL ‘DAY 2’ - VMINKOOK at Yoongi’s concert 

・13 JULY 2023 - AYS in NYC - JK & JM (and staff) have dinner at ANTOYA 

… If you asked me, it would appear that JK’s issue is actually the fact that they didn’t get a chance to go out alone, just the two of them. Yeah … My twin-flame seems to always have had strong, almost impulsive, reactions when it comes to anything concerning JM, it is actually probably the most vocal he becomes for a non-talkative guy that is.

Can you recall any other member, other than JM, he was ever upset about because he didn’t get to hear their music? Can you think about any other member other than JM, who JK would most likely be spending time rehearsing, eating, doing nothing during band activities? Can you think of any other member other than JM, for whom he’s made a bit more of an effort during birthdays and special dates? Once again ... If you ask me ... JK truly values his time alone with JM, which is why I think his perception felt so fatalistic/dramatic we all know that for example, JM did go to the Golden Listening Party in October ... 

And don’t get me wrong, I definitely don’t believe it to be a one-way affair. Are You Sure?! exist exactly because JM would seem to also appreciate his alone time with JK, be it in front of a camera, in a hotel room, or whreever. After all, they were supposed to only go for one trip, but not only did they magically whip out time to go on two more Jeju and Sapporo, but they are now talking about doing this until they are 50. LOL I’ll be in my 60s but I’ll tune in! . And then, to top it all off … They ended up enlisting together. The way JM wanted to “make a video of their adventures and freedom” before enlistment, you’d think they’d be apart for the following 18 months because of said enlistment 😒.  

It’s actually quite funny if you think about it. Between the two of them JM is most definitely the shiest, but JM is most definitely the better one at expressing himself. Y’all can obviously disagree with me, but from where I stand, my twin-flame is actually smart as hell one day people will finally acknowledge that, but he is not the best with words. I’m sure in JK’s Utopia, the world is a place where people sing to each other in order to communicate, instead of spoken words. Alas, this is not JM-blood thirsting Vampire Utopia, and in the world where we presently live, JK seems to be the type who’s first reaction to stressful situations is finding the funny side of things and when that fails then he needs to do something about it; anything.

Now, as always, everyone is entitled to their opinions, in fact, many have made it very clear that to them JK was feeling “off” in these episodes, but to me, not only he was being his typical weird self, but I also I discovered a few new aspects, for example, when he truly cares about something, his devotion has really no limits. But let me use some images, and some words, to better explain how I perceived JK in these two episodes. Remember how JK once substituted the word Love with Jimin, in a Boy with Luv lyric Jimin nothing stronger? Well I’d like to do the same thing and sub the word Love with JK in the following very famous biblical paragraph and associate specific moments in both episodes to each line:

JK is patient, 

If this is not the testament sequence of a man who’s been waiting to spend time with you, no matter what, then I don’t know what else is.

JK is kind.

He does not envy, he does not boast, he is not proud.  

He does not dishonor others, he is not self-seeking, 

LOL … one day JK will be able to pull a prank on JM; I believe in you.

He is not easily angered, he keeps no record of wrongs.

I shouldn’t have to say this, but ... there are no “wrongs” done between JM & JK, what they do with each other is joke, have accidents and play around - but gotta say this just in case!

Last but not least, though JK was coughing like there was no tomorrow, wouldn’t you think that JM being vehemently sick, would be grounds for the whole show to be cancelled? In fact, we didn’t even know there was going to be a show, so nobody would have missed anything and at some point they could have used the footage in a bangtan-bomb, or during Festa, or something. … The fact that they were willing to keep going and even show us themselves in such a vulnerable state, the fact that because of it JM was so worried and doubting almost everything, and the fact that JK ultimately wasn’t worried and regretted nothing, kinda reinforced for me just how much they truly wanted to be together on that trip at that time it was basically overdue. 

In conclusion, though my Twin-flame’s strongest suit isn’t communication, and his recollection of events may or may not be as accurate due to emotional perception, his heart is ALWAYS in the right place, sturdy, confident and ready to let JK be the best he can be, at all times. I mean, you don’t have to take my word for anything I've just said but below is JK a mere 10 days after they separated from NYC/Connecticut ... look at him ... giddy AF and hella playful if you ask me and once again … weverse pining.

I guess one alone trip wasn’t enough after all 😉.

Always respectfully yours 🫰🏾💜,

Marengo.

[sleepless-winter-nights]

Ok this is mostly a rant and also MY opinion which many might not agree

But in second generation in rkverse ( that is the kids books ) have unnecessary dysfunctional siblings dynamics. Like why do that.

And even if it was normal at the end it was ruined which was unnecessary like for example:

1. the king siblings that is Landon, Brandon and Glyndon could have had a great relationship but no there was some problem which was unnecessary and it felt like it was show that Eli and Creighton are better siblings. Yeah, I know Brandon had reasons ( like how his mental state was fucked) and Landon was anti social ( which was not shown in the book only his narcissistic part was shown which was annoying at many times) but they still could have had a great relationship

2. Similarly Gareth and Killian, like why that unnecessary dislike. Can't they behave like normal siblings, like was it really necessary to create some rift. Similarly this one also felt like it was to show that volkov siblings are better.

3. The worst was mia maya bond. Like why break such a beautiful bond by creating some unnecessary drama for no reason and make one sibling as a villain. They were so good together but nope. Rina just destroyed it to make the king twins superior.

Like drama can be created in other ways too without anyone having to feel insecure or jealous of their own siblings. And if there was a problem it should have been solved but nope🙅.

It feels like author doesn't know how a sibling's dynamics work

Let's hope that rina won't ruin Ava and Ariella's relationship because I know that Eli and Creigh will be fine.

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire: The Epilogue

biker!Eddie x artist!Reader

biker!Steve x Astrid (fem!OC)

masterlist playlist

wc: 14.6k

18+ONLY as always, adult themes, allusions to smut, backyard union/wedding, violence, auto theft, hustling, fist fight, mention of blood, mention of guns and shooting, relationship issues, Eddie is a cat dad, tw: Charlene, alcohol consumption, healing, lots of love.

Summary: If you're one of my ride or dies who have read this far, you know what to expect, but I do mention pregnancy and kids more than a few times, for good reason. We get to check in with what the gang has been up to, and how the families have grown. A little bit of drama, of course, and Coffin Kings mayhem. For the sake of this story, the character Bones is meant to be Tom Hardy from the yet to be released movie The Bikeriders.

A/N: This is reallyyy more of another chapter more and an Epilogue, lmaoo. I love all of these characters so much that I keep wanting to spin off in different directions and write a bunch of niche stories; I can see myself living in this world for a long while. I know I say it all the time, but my IoF readers mean so much to me, and I really hope you enjoy this. Please see a second author's note at the end.

--------

Highway 22 had once been the only main road out of town, but since the freeway came to Hawkins in the 60’s, very few ever took the country road lined with cornfields and alfalfa crops.  There were several homesteads scattered about, mostly farmers, and all of them spaced out by several acres; but for the home of the Whittiers—Bob and Helen—who just happened to live across the street from the place once owned by the Fergusons.

The first time they heard the rumble of motorcycles approaching, Helen screamed through the living room that it must be an airplane flying too low, about to crash into them.  She nudged Bob awake from his nap in the recliner and then ran out onto the porch, wringing her hands.

What she found was a motorcycle gang, clad in leather and covered in tattoos, crawling twenty deep into the driveway of their newest neighbors.

It was rare for Eddie to invite the entire local Coffin Kings MC and a few of the Hells Belles over, but the ceremony for Steve and Astrid’s union was an exception.  She was 8 months pregnant with the twins at the time, bursting at the seams, but Steve had this bug up his ass that he needed them to be official before the babies came, and Bones was happy to officiate.

Under an arbor in the neatly manicured lawn of your front yard, flanked in willow trees and cherry blossoms, Robin stood as Steve’s best man, and pretended like she’d lost the ring during the ceremony when he asked for it.  The panic in his face made everyone in attendance snicker when she pulled it from the tiny pocket of her vest with a wink.  Steve wore black suit pants with a collared white shirt, rolled up to the elbows, under his Coffin Kings leather.  Astrid looked stunning in a hunter green, off-the-shoulder dress with a few pieces of simple, gold jewelry, and a baby’s breath flower crown in her hair. 

Astrid didn’t need a ring, or any traditional symbols, and the material stuff meant nothing to her, but Steve insisted.  He took the extra step of getting her name tattooed on his ring finger, which made her roll her eyes and fall more in love with him all at once.  

You stood at Astrid’s side, making eyes at your boyfriend Eddie who was extremely handsome in his leather and a suit in the front row.  You were still reeling at the idea that this was your life, as fear kept trying to creep in and tell you it was all a dream, or that something would happen at any second to take it all away at any moment.  

You’d barely had the keys to the farmhouse for two months before the wedding, and so things were still stacked in boxes on the main floor, and the plumbing was a mess, but every morning, Eddie kissed you goodbye before work, and then you padded over in bare feet to the empty space with south facing windows that would soon be your studio. 

Wayne gave Astrid away, and there were tears streaming down Steve’s cheeks.  Once the official “I do’s” were said, everyone, including the bikers and their families in attendance, started to hoot and whistle for the kiss.  Steve held her face in his hands, and it was deep and sweet and made the obnoxious howling from the crowd melt into a collective swoon before erupting in applause.

Eddie’s heart swelled with love, not only for his friends who were finally getting the happy ending they deserved, but for you, and the promise of the life you were building together.  Neither one of you held the matrimonial traditions of society in high regard and didn’t need a piece of paper to prove that you were devoted to each other, but right then, watching you stand with Astrid, he thought about dropping to one knee and begging you to be his wife.

Neither one of you had a family history of marriage keeping people together, in fact, it had mostly only succeeded in fucking everything up.  In his heart, it was till death do you part, and that was all that mattered.  In fact, he planned on finding you in the afterlife as well.

Steve had Oliver on his shoulders while they cut the cake, but what everyone didn’t know was that Astrid was fighting some stomach cramping.  She figured it was the two babies kicking from all of the excitement, but the second the music started for the reception, her water broke.  

“This can’t be happening right now,” Steve was flabbergasted, holding up his wife so that she didn’t sink to the ground.  “They’re not due for another month?”

“Oh it’s happening,” Astrid gushed, framing her belly with her hands. “They are coming.”

“Take my car,” Katie offered, digging around in her purse for her keys.  The driveway was full of vehicles, pinning in Astrid’s truck, but Katie’s car was further out, near the highway.  

“We’ll be right behind you,” Eddie shouted, reaching for your hand.

Dustin was the voice of reason, stepping in front of him while the others headed for the vehicle.

“She could be in labor for hours, and you’ve got guests,” Henderson reminded his friend.  He was there with his wife Suzie and their daughter Stevie. “I say stay here, man.  Robin can call you from the hospital with an update.”

For a second, it had slipped both of your minds that you even had guests; approximately 87 of them.  

The big speakers Eddie had hooked up to a sound system were playing Hold onto Me by Cowboy Junkies, and the two of you turned to stare at each other, wondering what to do.  

“Dustin’s right,” you looked around, eyes settling on your ex-coworker Jeff who was drinking red wine straight from the bottle. “I don’t want anyone to puke in our bedroom or something.”

Suzie handed you a glass of champagne, ring finger heavy with a Princess cut diamond.  “I promise you, those babies probably won’t poke their heads out until morning.”

You just hoped nothing went wrong, since Astrid confided in you that labor had been notoriously hard on the women in her family; there had even been a few mothers who didn’t make it.  What if they needed to do an emergency C-section? What if one of them started to come out sideways?  

You were about to take a sip of the sweet bubbles when you saw Steve jogging back in your direction.

“Katie’s car is dead,” he huffed, headed for the back patio where his Harley was parked.

Craning your neck down the long row of cars, you saw Astrid sitting on the front bumper of the dark blue sedan with Oliver holding onto her arm while Robin and Katie appeared to be having an argument.  You were sure it was nothing personal, but tensions were high.

“Hold tight, let me grab the jumper cables,” Eddie jogged alongside Steve, aiming for the garage.

“Nah, it’ll take too long, we need to get out of here,” Steve was throwing a leg over his bike and revving the engine before Eddie could offer another suggestion.

You ran up beside Eddie. “He’s driving her to the hospital on that?”

“It appears that way,” Eddie stepped back so that Steve could roll by the two of you, fishtailing through the lawn before jumping a rock bed and weaving between the vehicles to pick up Astrid.

A lot of pregnant women might have hesitated to go by motorcycle, but Astrid did not.  She didn’t hesitate to get on behind him, knowing that the sooner they got to the hospital, the less likely things would go wrong.  Making room for her ample stomach took a moment of adjusting, but she strapped her helmet on before tapping his shoulder to let him know she was ready.

“You’re insane!” Robin shouted at him, and then she covered her face in frustration.  

Bones, Devlin, Van, Ratchet, and a few others went along as escorts, clearing the highway with their own bikes so that Steve could have the road. 

Across the street, Helen was on her porch with a pair of binoculars.  “Bob? Where are they taking that pregnant woman?”

Bob was in the living room with the TV on, and he pretended not to hear her.  

“The music is loud enough,” she scoffed.  “The whole thing better quiet down by 10 or I’m calling the police.”

If so, that wouldn’t be the first time she’d called the cops about her across-the-way neighbors.  The first time was during the week they’d moved in, and a couple of the Kings came over to help unload furniture.  Helen reported that there was a gang breaking into the Ferguson place to steal things.

“Let me get this straight,” Hopper twirled a pencil between two fingers while he spoke into the phone.  “They’re stealing things by putting them back inside the house?”

He very politely talked her down from a ledge, and then drove by on the highway to give her a wave so that she felt safe.  

The Velvet Hammer was closed the day of the wedding, as most of the employees were guests.  But the next day, Shana opened up the bar at 10, harboring one of the worst hangovers of her adult life.  

The shrill ringing of the phone made it feel like a buzzsaw was cutting through her skull, and Jackie leaned over the bar counter to snatch the receiver.

It was you, letting them know that Astrid had given birth to two healthy baby girls named Gracie and Rue early that morning, and that labor had been horrific, but their mother was on the mend.

Poor Steve.  When the doctor came out and said there were “complications”, he nearly tore down the wall trying to get in there to his wife.  The first baby, Rue, started to come out feet first, and he had this terrifying thought of the umbilical cord getting stuck around her neck or something, but once they got her turned around, the rest went smoothly.  He did the best he could to coach her through the breathing techniques they’d learned in the Lamaze classes, but at one point, she politely, yet abruptly, asked him to shut up.  

Not even three months later, Astrid was pregnant again.

They were certain that the procreation of the twins had been a fluke, a miracle; something that would only happen once in their lifetime.  

But they’d been gravely mistaken.  

They’d just transported the whole family to the ranch style home Astrid had inherited from her grandmother.  Everyone had their own room, including another living area in the basement, and a vintage Landshark Airstream trailer in the back yard where Steve and Astrid slept when they needed alone time.  It was the communal living, and the constant support from Robin and Katie, that kept them from mental collapse when they found out there was another baby on the way.

“What is wrong with you?” Eddie chuckled at Steve when he gave the two of you the news one morning over coffee at your kitchen table. “Couldn’t keep it in your pants for a few weeks?”

“I told you,” Steve shrugged.  “I have a magic dick.”

At that, you and Eddie shared an affectionate eye roll.  All joking aside, Steve was ecstatic about the news, bouncing on the balls of his feet everywhere he went at the idea of having a fourth child.  Astrid, on the other hand, was trying not to have a panic attack as she breastfed two infants at once.  If it happened to be another set of twins, she said she’d have to give one to you and Eddie.

You were testing paint swatches on the wall when Eddie snuck up from behind on the hardwood floor and put his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair.  He had on a pair of his “holiest” jeans that were so ripped and worn, they were about to be shorts, along with his Slayer shirt that now had wide, cut out arm holes, exposing his ribs.  

“Which one do you like more?” You asked, slipping your arms over his.

He hummed, kissing your earlobe.  “They all look yellow to me.”

“Close, but one is Summer Sunset, one is Lemon Cream, and one is—-”

“What about black?” He asked in all seriousness.  “Or gray?”

“Or we could just keep all of the wallpaper as it is,” you giggled at the tickle of his beard scruff on your neck.

The country rose wallpaper was lovely, but heavy pink floral themes in every room was a bit much for both of you.  “You’re right, I love Lemon Yogurt or whatever.”

“I figured as much,” You turned to search his face.  He’d been growing his bangs out, so they were just long enough to tuck behind his ears.  “How does tofu curry sound for tonight?”

Your lips met, and you could taste that familiar mix of wintermint and Camel Lights that you’d come to love.  He’d cut back to only a couple smokes a day, but he went through a pack of gum in an hour.  

“Mhhmm tofu,” he closed his eyes dreamily. “Is there meat in that?”

Just before the twins turned one, you and Eddie had your first big fight.  

Big enough that you threw some clothes in a bag and said you were going to stay with Katie and Robin right before you slammed the door so hard, a vase full of daisies he’d bought for you crashed to the ground and shattered.  

It was over something so stupid, really. The way he left hair in the sink after he shaved bugged the shit out of you, and when you rolled as far away as you could from him in bed, he took it personally.  You’d felt restless and out of your mind that week, and then you started your car to realize the gas tank was empty, even though he said he’d fill it up.  You promised Eddie you’d have some quality time with him one night, but then Steve needed you at the Hammer and…all of these things started to pile up until the dam burst.

You sat in your car with the engine on for a while, swallowing back hot gasps, unable to pull the trigger and drive away.  It wasn’t long before you felt his shadow, and a few soft knuckle taps on the window.

“Please don’t go,” he said.  

“I don’t want to go,” you shivered and finally broke out in a sob, tears streaming down your face.  “I love you so much.”

Next thing you knew, you were in his arms, and then you were back in the bed you shared, begging him to be so deep inside, until it made you see stars.  

—-----

“An inch to the left,” Robin coached you from the ground as you were up on a ladder at the Velvet Hammer, hanging a piece of artwork along the brick red wall opposite the bar while Mother Love Bone played from the jukebox.  “Ah, right there. Perfect.”

You’d brought a few paintings over weeks earlier, at Robin’s request, and they all sold almost immediately, so she begged you to bring in a few more.  Still an employee at the Hammer, Steve offered you something more of an assistant manager position, but you were honest with him and confessed you didn’t want the extra responsibility, but that you’d help as much as you could.  Plus, the tips you earned waitressing mostly surpassed what they could offer you as an assistant, and you were under the gun to get a collection of work together for the upcoming show in Marysville.

The same Marysville shows at the airplane hangar where you’d bumped into Eddie and Charlene that one night three years ago. The memory felt surreal to you, as if it were something that had happened in another lifetime.  

The bar didn’t open for another hour, and Steve was hunched over a cup of coffee, popping energy pills he’d bought at the gas station.  

“Get any sleep last night?” You asked, on your way to return the ladder to the storage room.  

Steve grumbled something unintelligible, and his head bounced, nodding himself awake as if he’d been drifting off right where he sat. 

“Mae has some serious pipes on her,”  Robin quipped, speaking of Steve and Astrid’s newest baby girl, Mae, who was barely 16 weeks old.  “The only one of us she seems to want to be around is Oliver.”

The twins were over 2 years old by then, and just as much of a handful as you’d imagine toddlers would be.  Now with another baby, the family was running on empty.  You and Eddie volunteered to babysit Rue and Gracie for a weekend after Mae was born, and even though you loved the girls dearly and cherished the time with them, you found yourselves counting down the minutes until their dad came to pick them up on the last day.  “I’m glad we decided not to have kids.  Steve’s brood is more than enough,” Eddie whispered to you at the window watching Steve drive off.  He even considered getting “snipped” around the time Steve had the procedure, just as a precautionary measure.

“Why are you here so early anyway?” Robin asked around a yawn, adjusting the clasp on her denim overalls.  “Go home and get some rest.  I’ll stay until Shana gets here at noon.”

Steve yawned too, stretching his arms above his head as he stood.  He wore a nice pair of blue denim jeans and a sage green pearl snap shirt that was buttoned wrong.  “Can’t. Interviewing for a new apprentice over at the shop.”

Construction on the tattoo parlor next door took longer than anticipated.  So long, that Eddie got frustrated enough to go ahead and do a bunch of the work himself.  They’d just passed inspection the week before and were anxious to get some bodies in there working.  They’d decided on the name Velvet Ink, and Wayne found some vintage barber chairs at auction for the reception area aesthetic Steve was looking for.

As of then, Wayne was fully in remission and getting his strength back. He’d even been well enough to take his 1948 Harley-Davidson Panhead out on a few Sunday cruises with the boys.  Rue, one of the twins, took to him like glue, and Eddie remarked that he’d never seen the old man smile as big as he did when she called him “gan-pa”. 

Taking the last big gulp of his coffee, Steve made his way out, letting in blinding beams of sunlight when he pushed open the front door of the Hammer. He paused for a moment to look at the padded leather stool that was there, the one he’d parked his butt on for many a night.  Even though he helped to keep the peace if necessary, most of the past two years had been spent behind the scenes.  A weird, secret part of him missed it; missed the simplicity of being a bouncer, versus being the owner of two businesses.  Before he knew it, reminiscing on his old life brought his thoughts back to Charlene.

He was sure that she kept tabs on him, and he hoped she never decided to drop in and wreak havoc on his life again, but he was grateful for the fresh start she’d given him.  He hoped that she was enjoying herself with Billy…or whoever the hell she was fucking those days.  

—-----

It was Eddie’s night to make dinner, and you spotted him fussing in the kitchen through the side window of the farmhouse when you drove up that night.  It looked like he touched something that was too hot and was snapping his hand in the air to cool it off.  

You saw his motorcycle parked in the red barn, and wondered if he was planning to do some repairs on it.  The Chevelle was no longer around, as he’d sold it to a collector up north so he could get a pickup that would be more useful to your new lives.  You’d begged him not to, as  you knew how hard he’d worked on it over the years with Wayne, but he couldn’t be swayed otherwise.  .

Turns out, your man was extremely stubborn.

“Hey there, Dungeon Master,” you greeted him, shutting the back door to take your coat off.  He’d been teaching you to play DnD now that he had a new head mechanic at the shop, giving him a bit more time to lean into his hobbies. Max and Lucas moved back to town, and Eddie was happy to teach Lucas how to operate the tow truck when he voiced that he needed a job.  

In a black Hanes tank and jeans, your man was barefoot with his hair tied back.  Looking down at the pot of sauce he was stirring, he smiled so big his dimples popped.  “You really like calling me that, don’t you?”

Calling him Dungeon Master was a new kink unlocked for you.

You set your bag on one of the kitchen chairs and wrapped your arms around him from behind to sink your teeth into his shoulder.  “I love finding out what a nerd you truly are.  It’s hot.”  

He lifted up a wooden spoon full of marinara, cupping his other hand underneath, and turned to blow on it before putting it to your lips.  

“Smells yummy,”  you said before taking a taste.  He watched  your mouth, but then eagerly found your eyes for the verdict.

“Mhmm baby it’s delicious.”

Satisfied, he went back to stirring. “Astrid gave me her recipe.  I’ve never made it from scratch before,” he took a lick off the spoon for himself. “I think I used too much garlic.”

Another facet of Edward Munson you’d never realized before was that he was a natural in the kitchen, and found a lot of joy in cooking.  One of the first things he made when you first moved in was chickpea patties for burgers, and whenever the two of you went into a bookstore and you found him browning the vegetarian cookbook section.  

If  you weren’t working at the Hammer, nights at home were very low key.  There was the occasional concert or dinner on the town, but mostly nothing sounded better than curling up on the couch with him, or on the porch swing with a cocktail.  Charlie was strictly an inside cat, but you found a stray living in the barn.   All black with green eyes, a recent visit to the vet let you know that she was pregnant, and a litter of kittens was on the way, one of which had already been claimed by Oliver.  So, you brought her inside and made her comfortable in the guest bedroom, until just yesterday when  you found her curled up for a nap in Eddie’s lap.

He named her Scully because of his love of The X-Files, and you wondered if he’d be able to give the rest of the kittens up for adoption with the way he fawned over his new companion.  He bought her a fancy collar with a bell, as well as catnip and special treats that she was forced to share with Charlie.

Later that night, sprawled on the couch with your head on his chest, you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open during an episode of Saturday Night Live when the phone in the kitchen rang.  You almost jumped out of your skin, and both of the cats sprang from their perch on top of the couch.

“What the shit,” Eddie grumbled, gently sliding out from underneath you just as a second ring shattered the once peaceful evening.  

“Who would be calling this late?” You said groggily, pulling the blanket up to your chin to turn and watch Eddie disappear down the hall.  

“I don’t know, but this better not be Steve wanting to rant about one of his late night epiphanies.”

Phone calls at midnight were rarely ever a good thing.  You sat straight, waiting to hear Eddie pick up the receiver. Had someone been hurt? Were the girls okay? Had something gone wrong at the Velvet Hammer? Maybe it was Bones needing Eddie for something to do with the Kings, and if so, you didn’t want him to answer it.

Eddie jerked the white, cordless phone to his ear, frowning.  “Yeah? This is Eddie.”

You shifted to the edge of your seat, muting the TV so that you could hear him.

“How did you get this number?” He mumbled gruffly.

That made you get to your feet.

“...what makes you think I had anything to do with it?”

You took a few steps and froze.

You had a very bad feeling that you knew exactly who it was at the other end.  

Eddie locked eyes with you when you came to pause at the stove. 

“You have to be mistaken, there’s no way he was one of ours—-,” Eddie said to whoever it was, shaking his head.

You reached out and motioned for him to hand you the phone.

He swallowed, hesitating at first, but then you took it from him and put it to your ear.

“Charlene?” Your tone was patient. “What’s going on?”

—----

Earlier that evening at the Harrington residence, Astrid was breastfeeding Mae in the rocking chair while Katie helped the twins get dressed after their bath, and Robin washed dishes with Oliver.  The TV was on, but no one was paying any attention to it, and Mae nestled against her mother like she was finally ready for sleep.

God, Astrid was tired.

Exhausted to the marrow of her bones and beyond.

Absolutely in love with her daughters and in awe of the beautiful family they’d created, but wishing she could have a few hours away from it all, just the same.

The twins were being loud, giggling as their Auntie Katie ushered them across the hall to their bedroom, and Astrid held her breath, worried they’d wake the baby up.

She let Robin know she was putting Mae in her crib, and then went to take the first shower she’d had in a while, feeling her stretch marks and all the ways her body had changed after carrying three babies. She never doubted Steve’s attraction to her, but he tattooed gorgeous women every day, not to mention the ones who waited tables in fishnet stockings and danced at the Hammer.  She was sure a handful of those young beauties had a crush on their boss and would offer him comfort any time he wanted it.

She hated when her mind went there, when she could feel the walls of insecurity and depression closing in.  She wanted to be nothing but grateful for every waking moment, but sometimes she was way too tired to think clearly.  She needed to cry or scream or fuck… or something.

Between the kids, Steve’s schedule, and having zero energy at night, she couldn’t remember the last time the two of them had been intimate.  A few kisses and touches in passing was really all it had been.  Considering the insatiable hunger they’d had for each other over the years, it made her worry that he just wasn’t attracted to her anymore.  But also, she knew that was bullshit—-but the whispers kept nagging at her.  

On her way back down the hall to her bedroom, she could hear Oliver reading the girls a bedtime story and she paused to listen, emotions catching in her throat.  Rue and Gracie loved him so much, and he was such a wonderful big brother, slipping into the role like he was born for it. Born to be a nurturing, caring soul just like his father.  She often wondered if Ollie would grow up to be who Steve would’ve been, if he had been surrounded with love as a kid.  Before Wayne took over his care, he hadn’t known much comfort or safety.  

Steve came home smelling like a distillery, and when he tried to kiss her on his way in, she moved her head away.

“Where have you been?” She didn’t have to ask, it was obvious he’d tattooed late and stayed to have a few drinks. She missed the guy who would spend hours rubbing her belly and talking to the babies inside of it.  It was the closeness she missed, not the sex itself. 

Alarms went off in Steve when he caught the way she didn’t want to look at him, the way she shrugged away from his touch.  “Hey, baby, I’m sorry.  Jake paid extra to have his back piece finished tonight and so I—”

Robin and Katie had adjourned to the basement, and Astrid was folding laundry at the couch. “You just thought you’d booze it up with your buddies while I took care of our girls?”

He lowered his arms to hook his thumbs into his belt loops.  “I thought about calling but I didn’t want to wake the—”

“Your daughters are all asleep.  Gracie was asking for her daddy,” she pinned a towel to her check with her chin and folded the ends together.

Steve’s heart tightened, thinking of how he’d missed his baby girl asking about him.  Thinking of how he was already letting her down.  “I’m gonna sneak in and say goodnight,” he mumbled, heading that way.

“Please don’t,” Astrid snapped. “It took a long time to get them to calm down, but you’re rarely here at night so you wouldn’t know.”

Okay, something was definitely wrong.  He’d fucked up, but he wasn’t exactly sure how.  Astrid knew that he’d have some long nights, this was something they’d talked about.  There had to be something else going on.  

He sat down on the edge of the recliner, facing her, and laced his fingers together.  “Is there anything…you want to talk about?”

Astrid scoffed, keeping her eyes on the TV.  “Where do I even start?”

“I’m sorry if I—”

“Just say it, Steve,” she bit, stacking folded towels on top of each other.  “Just say you’d rather get drunk with the dancers at the Velvet Hammer rather than come home and be with me.”

At that, he was dumbfounded. Gobsmacked, even.  

“How could you…what? That’s crazy. Shit, you know other women don’t even exist for me, Astrid,” he kept trying to catch her gaze, but she’d avoid it.  “No one has ever meant more to me than you.  You're the love of my life.”

“I can tell you’re not attracted to me anymore, Steve. Just say it, I don’t float your boat.”

“Float my boat?” He almost chuckled at that, but immediately caught himself, realizing that it wasn’t a good time for humor.  

There were tears welling in her eyes and Astrid bit her cheek in an effort to keep them at bay; her shoulders were shaking.

“Hey, listen, baby, c’mere,” he stood and reached for her hand.  She let him have it, dropping the t-shirt she’d been holding.  “Tell me you love me? Please?”

“Have you fucked anyone else since we’ve been together?’ She stared at him that time, eyes wet.

Steve didn’t hesitate. “Never even crossed my mind.”

She swallowed thickly, lowering her gaze.

“Wait,” Steve’s mind raced, realizing that it had probably been months since they’d had sex.  “Have you? Fucked another dude?”

That one pissed her off, and it showed in the look she shot him. “When the hell would I have time for that, Steve? I barely have time to pee.”

He let go of her hand.  “Oh, so, you’ve wanted to, with other people…you just don’t have time?”

“Steve, I’m going to punch you in the throat.”

He pulled her over so that she was in his lap, and she only fought him a little because then she was crying into his neck, overcome with exhaustion.

“Tell me,” he said softly, brushing her hair away to kiss her forehead.  “Tell me you love me.”

“You know I do,” she sniffed, letting the tears roll hot down her cheeks, pulling her knees up so that she was snug in his lap. 

“Say it,” he was pushing it now, tipping her chin up to find her mouth with his.  

She mumbled her devotion as the tip of his tongue dragged along her bottom lip.

She clung to him as she cried it out for a minute, letting him hold her close and stoke her hair.

“Is she okay?” It was Oliver.

He’d snuck in from the other room and was watching the scene with a creased, worried brow.

“I’m fine, honey,” Astrid sat up, wiping her eyes.  “It’s just been a long day.”

Oliver stared at his dad, almost defiantly.  “I don’t like to see her sad.”

Steve saw his own tender perception mirrored back to him in his son's eyes.  “I don’t like it either, come over here,” he motioned for Ollie to get close enough so he could put his arm around his son.  “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I didn’t want to miss you again,” Oliver admitted, sending another pang into Steve’s heart.

He’d gone from working all the time to…working even more, and something had to change.  He hated being away from his family so often that he missed bedtime several days a week; they needed to hire more full-time help like Robin suggested, but Steve and Eddie were trying to pinch every penny.

After he talked to Oliver about his day, Steve realized he needed a goddamn smoke.  Since the twins were born, he’d tried several times to cut back, but decided to quit cold turkey two days ago, and it wasn’t working.  He needed to get some of those nicotine patches or something because being irritable with a throbbing head was no way to live in tandem with everything else on his plate.

Two hours later, after he’d tucked Ollie in and everyone else in the house was asleep, Steve made love to his wife. 

He was about to try for a second round when his beeper on the nightstand started buzzing.

The alert was from Eddie.

Steve frowned at the number and excused himself to use the phone while Astrid pulled her robe on to go and check on Mae.  

Come to find out, the past was indeed back to haunt him, yet again.

—--------

Hawkins was the last place Charlene ever expected to be on her birthday weekend.  She’d said goodbye to that place forever, or so she thought, as there was nothing for her there.  Her relationship with Billy lasted the better part of a year, but when she found out he’d been cheating on her with their neighbor, it didn’t even phase her.  Normally, she would’ve been furious and exacted some elaborate revenge on the two, but at the time, she only shrugged and told him good luck.  She was never in love with him, he’d been just another way to pass the time; a way to distract from her deep, soul-sucking loneliness. 

Just before the separation from John, she’d purchased a storage unit for sentimental items she didn’t want to look at, but also didn’t have the heart to throw away.  She’d considered letting someone from Storage Wars buy it just so they could be disappointed, but there were private letters and photos in there that she never wanted anyone to see, especially not strangers.  So, she was back to clean it out and burn whatever she no longer wanted to hold on to.  

She was in disguise, so to speak, with a new cropped brunette hairdo, and oversized sunglasses.  The divorce and the bankruptcy of one of John’s businesses made headlines in the paper for weeks, as there was clearly not much to talk about in Hawkins, and for the first time since marrying into money, she didn't want to be recognized.  

She promised she wouldn’t punish herself by driving along the street in front of the Velvet Hammer, but she did it anyway.  She picked up her white 1970 Jaguar XKE from the secure garage it’d been stored in, and parked across the street to watch you carry a huge painting in while Robin held the door for you.  The neon sign for Velvet Ink was clever, and she sat there for over an hour, until Steve finally stepped out of the main building.  He squinted up at the daylight, shaking his fist like he wanted to punch the sun, and went next door to shake hands with a woman who was tattooed neck to foot, before unlocking the door to the parlor.  

She had plenty of phone numbers for young men who would love to get paid to be her escort, but she was tired of paying people.  She wanted someone to want to be with her, and be protective of her, without the money or the status, and she was realizing she didn’t know how to act normal when it came to earning someone’s genuine affection.  

So, that night, she was alone at a swanky rooftop bar drinking a dirty martini and listening to someone playing a Christopher Cross instrumental on the piano.  

Eating the last olive, she was thinking she’d make her way to her hotel when she felt a body sink down for a seat just one stool over.  She smelled him first; a familiar mix of leather and nicotine, but this one had superior taste in cologne as she recognized a hint of cedar and honeysuckle from Dior’s Fahrenheit.  

He ordered a beer and a shot of Jameson and then, to her surprise, he leaned over and pointed at her empty glass.  “Can I buy you another?”

Her first instinct was to flat out ignore him or say, “no, I can buy my own drinks, thanks,” but then she turned to see who the voice belonged to, and her tongue got stuck on the roof of your mouth.  

Maybe ten years her junior, he wore his jet-black hair slicked back, while his full lips and hazel eyes reminded her of someone.  She could tell he was tall with broad shoulders, and a couple tattoos exposed where his shirt was pushed up to the elbows.  A few chunky metal rings similar to the ones Eddie always wore, and from the insignias on his leather vest, she could see that he was also a member of the Coffin Kings MC.  

Charlene notoriously had a thing for outlaws, especially pretty ones, and so she let him buy her that second drink, and then a third.  

He said his name was Nick, and she was relieved to find out he appeared to have no clue who she was.  She said her name was Rita, and after that third drink, she invited him back to her room to continue the party there.  

Inviting a stranger back to her suite was not how she’d expected the evening to go, but the need to feel the weight of him on top of her overrode any common sense that might’ve tried to dissuade her. He was sexy and he made her laugh, and those were the only qualifications she needed at that moment.

After a few hours of getting to know each other in the biblical sense, and enjoying the mini bar, Charlene excused herself to the bathroom.

“I think I need a shower,” she hummed, lifting an eyebrow.  “You want to join me?”

He was stretched out on the bed naked with his hands behind his head watching an episode rerun of ER.  

“You go ahead, babe,” he seemed to nestle further into the pillows after that term of endearment, shooting her a wink.  His Coffin Kings leather was neatly folded over the back of the nearby chair.  “I’m gonna make us a couple more drinks.”

She left the bathroom door open a crack, just in case he changed his mind, but then she got fully absorbed in how heavenly the steaming hot water felt.  She thought she heard him come into the bathroom at one point, so she peeled the curtain back a few inches, but only found her reflection in the mirror.  

By the time she turned the water off, the steam from the hot shower was as thick as soup, and she realized that at one point, he’d shut the door all the way for whatever reason.  Perhaps for her modesty? Him being such a gentleman felt almost too good to be true.  

“You could order some food from the late-night menu if you’re hungry,” she said from behind the closed door while brushing her hair out.  “Pie sounds good for some reason.”

Either he wasn’t responding, or he did, and she just couldn’t hear him over the audience laughter on the TV.  She rubbed in some expensive body butter and then checked herself in the mirror a few times while putting the fluffy, white hotel robe on.  

“But if you need to go home I’d understand, as long as I can have one more—-”

She opened the door as she spoke, but then stopped dead in her tracks.

Nick was no longer sprawled on the bed, and all of his clothes were gone, even his kutte.

Nothing wrong with that, maybe he went to get ice or to take a phone call.

The suite was large, with a separate sitting room, and so she checked around for a bit before realizing he had, in fact, vanished.

Anxiety rose in her chest but she pushed it down, taking a seat on the edge of the bed to reach for her lipstick on the nightstand.

But the lipstick was in her purse and there was no purse to be found, just a few condom wrappers and tiny, empty bottles of booze.

She’d taken her purse into the bathroom with her, she was sure of it.

After a few sweeps of the place, mumbling to herself in disbelief and horror, Charlene realized that her purse, her money, and her car keys were all gone.

She’d been hustled by a member of the Coffin Kings, and the truth of it made her scream into the palms of her hands.  

She sprinted for the window to yank the curtains back.  It was the middle of the night, and they were on one of the highest floors, and she couldn’t see the Jaguar from there even with binoculars.

She didn’t even bother to change out of her robe or put shoes on as she bolted from the room.  She was pissed, sure, but there were sobs catching in her throat, and that old loneliness dropped like a lead weight, threatening to bring her to her knees.  

By the time she rushed breathless into the lobby, Nick and her car were long gone.  

—------

For whatever reason, Charlene asked Eddie specifically not to tell Steve; she didn’t want to face him under such lame circumstances.  But the two men made an agreement a while back that one would tell the other if they ever heard from her, just to keep miscommunication to a minimum when dealing with someone who had a track record for manipulation.  

“She thinks one of you put this Nick guy up to it,” you said, standing at the door watching Eddie get dressed.  “As payback or something.”

Eddie frowned, adjusting the strap on his watch.  “If I felt like I needed to get back at Charlene, I sure as hell wouldn’t trust someone else with the task.  Plus, I didn’t even know she was back in town.”

“Did Steve know?” 

The last person you ever wanted to feel bad for was the rich white woman who tried to ruin your life, but still, you didn’t like the idea of any woman getting hustled and used in that way.  

Okay, maybe Charlene deserved some payback, but you hated to think that someone from the Coffin Kings was out there making a habit of taking advantage of women in such a spineless way.

Eddie was rummaging through the top dresser drawer.  “We don’t even have a member named Nick, so that’s another whole fucking problem.”

“Another charter, maybe?” You followed him into the kitchen.

“Maybe,” he put his leather jacket on while Scully wound herself around his legs. He bent down to pet her and spoke to her in a baby voice before finishing his thought. “Or maybe it’s something worse.”

You didn’t have to ask to know that impersonating a member of the MC was a big problem. 

Under any other circumstances, Eddie would wait until the next day to deal with whatever happened to Charlene, but the chop shops worked fast, and if they didn’t hurry, they’d never get her car back.

Why did Eddie even care? He asked himself that on the way to meet Steve at the hotel, rumbling along in his midnight blue, square box Chevy.  She could’ve just called the cops and let them sort it out. But Eddie knew that, aside from Hopper, the police force was a joke, and there would be days of paperwork and questioning before anything attempted to get solved.  By then, whoever the guy was would be long gone, and the Jaguar on a cargo ship to its next owner.  

Steve was already in the parking lot, leaning against his bike with a smoke in his mouth when Eddie rolled up.

“How the hell did you get here so fast?” He asked, slamming the door of his truck.

“Left a message for Miser down at the chop shop,” Steve exhaled, ignoring his friend’s question.  “He said he’ll keep an eye out for the car.”

Eddie had already sucked down his ration of cigarettes for the day, so he shoved another piece of gum in his mouth as they made their way to her floor.

There was a crystal chandelier in the lobby and mirrored elevators that gave Eddie the creeps.  

“You think it’s some sort of trap?” Steve had his hands in his pockets, leaning in the corner while they traveled up with a Beach Boys instrumental played from a speaker in the ceiling.  “Like she’s trying to trick us or something?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Eddie muttered.  “I’m not gonna mention it to Bones and the rest until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Still in her robe, Charlene would’ve touched up her makeup to look presentable, but her Estee Lauder compact, and mascara were both in the stolen purse.  Also, she was too upset to care. She’d called to cancel the credit cards in her wallet, but there was a bunch of cash that she’d surely never see again. She’d have to contact her bank in the morning, but until then, she was basically squatting in that expensive hotel room.

Eddie did not look happy to see her when she opened the door, but she’d expected as much, tucking her bob of hair behind her ears. 

What she hadn’t expected, and what made her breath catch, was that Steve rolled in right behind him, scowling.  He had what appeared to be baby spit up on the front of his Santa Cruz skate shirt and dark indents under his eyes.  

Steve didn’t acknowledge her, he just breezed into the room and started looking around like he was a seasoned detective at the scene of a murder.  

Charlene gave Eddie a look, whispering, “I asked you not to tell him?”

All Eddie could do was shrug, as he was still weary of her intentions, and for good reason. 

Steve couldn’t help it, ever since the birth of his daughters, every injustice done to a woman in the world was something that could potentially happen to his girls, and he wasn’t having it.  

“What did he look like?” Eddie asked the question just as Steve spun on his heel at the other side of the bed.  

Hands on hips, she gave the description as best she could, and it sounded like half the guys in the club.

“He said his name was Nick?” Steve picked up the remote to turn the TV up a notch.  Unsolved Mysteries was on and he was suddenly interested, forever distracted.  “Do you think he was telling the truth?”

Charlene scoffed. “I had no reason to think he was lying? I didn’t ask to check his driver’s license.”

“Maybe you should from now on,” Steve kept his eyes on the screen, sitting down at the end of the bed.  “The way you go through men like a meat grinder.”

“Look who’s talking, Romeo,” she spit back.  

Charlene turned to complain to Eddie, but instead he held his hand up, palm out to silence her.  “Are you sure he was with the Coffin Kings?” 

Charlene tightened the sash on her robe. “Okay, you two can feel however you want about me, but you know I’m nothing if not observant.”

The two were silent in agreement.

“His leather vest looked just like the ones you have on now.  Black, tooled leather with the reaper holding a coffin on the back.  Embroidered insignias on the front as well.”

“Did it have a nickname or rank?” Eddie stuffed a third piece of wintermint gum in his mouth while Steve lit another smoke.  The smell of the nicotine made Eddie’s hand twitch and his muscles ache.

Charlene shook her head after a moment of contemplation.  “He didn’t have a name on his cut, but Hawkins was the charter, I’m positive.”

Both men shared a look before Steve got to his feet.  “So you had your car stolen, what’s the big deal? Don’t you have like a hundred of them?”

Charlene shot him a look, reminding herself not to be a bitch. “That car belonged to my dad.  It was special. He’s the only person in this world who ever gave a shit about me.” She went to the bedside table to grab a half empty travel size bottle of Jameson and drank the rest.  “That’s why I kept it in storage. I couldn't take it with me, and I didn’t want to sell it.”

Eddie scratched the stubble on his chin, thinking about how he couldn’t wait to go home to crawl in bed with you and the cats. 

“How much is it worth?” Steve asked out of curiosity.

Charlene shrugged, leaning against the wall to cross her feet at the ankles. “Dunno what it would go for today.  Easily 300K.”

Eddie almost choked on his wad of gum thinking of what he could do with that much dough.  

Steve raised an eyebrow.  “You better hope this Nicky is stupid and greedy enough to sell it locally, or we might be shit out of luck.”

—-----

You felt Eddie slink in under the covers to spoon you early in the morning before dawn, but you were too tired to look at the clock or ask him how it went.  Charlie was curled up at your feet and Scully took her pregnant belly over to nestle behind Eddie’s knees and purr.  

He wasn’t in bed with you at quarter to 8 when you finally rose from sleep, and for a second, you thought maybe you’d only dreamed about him coming home, until you saw the note he’d left on the nightstand.  

Had to run again

Tell you everything later

Left the coffee on

Love you infinity, Eddie

The way he always signed his notes made you chuckle, as if anyone else would be leaving notes for you at the house.  You folded it up and tucked it into the shoebox in the closet where you stashed all of his notes to you.

After a half hour of letting yourself rejoin the living on a much-needed day off, you went up to the studio to stare at the two paintings you were working on, but your reverie was shattered when the phone rang.

Breathless, you answered to find that it was Robin.  The shrill wail of a screaming child sounded from somewhere in the background.  

“Is Steve there at your place?” She sounded rightfully flustered.

“No, um,” you looked around the kitchen as if maybe he was there, you just didn’t know it.  “Eddie was here but then he left again. They might be together?”

A thoughtful silence and then, “Steve never came home last night. We assumed he stayed at your place.”

You were shaking your head but then realized Steve could have slept in the living room and you wouldn’t have been the wiser.  You walked through the house to see if there was a blanket on the couch, but it was as tidy as you’d left it before bed.  

“Are you busy right now?” Robin continued, making the executive decision to worry about Steve’s whereabouts later.

That was a loaded question, and even though you had plenty to do, you knew that was Robin’s way of saying she needed help.  “Not…right this minute.”

“I hate to ask,” it was true, she really did hate to ask for help, but sometimes it was necessary.  “Could you come over here for an hour or so? Katie has teacher conferences, I have to go to the Hammer, and as you know, Steve is MIA…”

“Sure,” Mae let out another earth-cracking wail that made you fear for your life. “Be there in ten minutes.”

—------

Miser’s underground chop shop operated behind one of the oldest buildings in Hawkins; solid brick, using a mom-and-pop place to get an oil change as a front during the day, but at night, stolen cars were stripped for parts and/or sold on the black market.  The building was huge, and had once been a busy hotel and saloon, as it was near the train station.

Miser himself was short and muscular with a gray, handlebar mustache, a rodeo buckle from his old bareback days, and a cowboy hat.  He’d been a pillar of the community for decades, and one of the last few anyone would suspect of illegal activity.  

That morning, Eddie, Steve, Van, and Devlin rolled into the alley, passed the No Trespassing signs, and settled at the locked garage door. Miser’s Old Lady was one of the head Hells Belles named Jackal, and she came out of the back door with him.  A long ponytail of silver hair, she lit a smoke and gave the guys a tip of her chin.  

“That car you said to look out for? The white Jaguar?”

Eddie and Steve still had their sunglasses on, nodding once in unison his question. 

“The guy showed up an hour ago,” Jackal inclined her head, whispering. “He’s been here before. He’s with another crew that likes to scam older women and take their shit.”

Steve and Eddie exchanged a look with the other two members, palms itching to get their hands on him.

“I asked him about the Kings flash,” Jackal continued.  “He said he was from another charter, but he didn’t know who Bones was.”

Bones, President of the Coffin Kings Hawkins charter, was one of the first original 9 members of the MC when they first banded in the 60’s.  Every CK member from Indiana to California knew exactly who Bones was.

So, this guy Nick just made it to the top of their shit list.  

“This might get messy,” Eddie said to Miser.

“We got you,” Jackal confirmed, waving for them to follow her.  

At the far end of the building, a door opened, and a guy with slick black hair, wearing a Coffin Kings kutte stepped out.

“Shit, that’s him—” Miser hissed, reaching for the Ruger at his hip.

But it was too late, the guy saw them and bolted.

Steve cursed, letting out after him on foot alongside Jackal, while Eddie and the others pursued on their bikes.  

Around the next building, there was a car waiting for Nick—a plain white sedan—and even after Steve summoned his high school athlete days, he still couldn’t catch up.  Nick jumped in the passenger seat and the vehicle peeled out, throwing dust up into Steve’s face as his arms windmilled to a halt.   

“Fuck,” Steve took his sunglasses off and threw them to the gravel, nostrils flaring as he watched the vehicle flee.  

Miser sent a gunshot, aiming for the front tire, but missed as the car picked up speed.  

Eddie and the others continued on in hot pursuit, and Jackal motioned for Steve to get into her truck that was nearby: a lifted navy Bronco with monster tires.  Steve had to grip onto the side bar to heft himself up into it, and then she gunned it, skidding out of the parking lot.

The sedan led them on a wild chase over the railroad tracks, skirting the center of town to avoid the cops.  Eddie and Van made their way to the side of the vehicle and Van cracked the driver’s side window with the hilt of his knife, making them swerve.  The car dove into the nearby alfalfa field, going where they knew the motorcycles couldn’t follow.

But, Jackal’s Bronco was made for the mud.

“Hold on—” she warned Steve.

“I’m holding,” Steve said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed on the target in front of them, his fist tight on the grab handle above his head.  

The sedan almost got its back tire stuck in the ditch, but the Bronco bounced right through the muck like it was a paved road, tractor tread crawling along like a tank.  

While Steve and Jackal took a diagonal course through farmland, Eddie and the rest took the next side road, aiming to cut them off before they could hit the highway.

—-----

You were on your way to Robin’s when you caught sight of a white car being chased through a field by what looked like a monster truck from one of rallies at the coliseum.  

“What…the—-”

It was far enough away that you didn’t feel in danger, but you slowed down to see if you could understand what was happening.

But then three riders on motorcycles were headed in your direction at full tilt, so you pulled off to the side of the road to get out of their way, wondering if you knew any of them—-

“Eddie?” You squinted, wanting to be mistaken.

Indeed that was your boyfriend leading the pack.  

He saw you as they passed at lightning speed and picked up his hand in a wave.

You sat there for a while, watching the three of them disappear in your rearview mirror, clearly angling to beat whoever was driving their car through the crop rows.  

After a heavy sigh, you dropped your shoulders and kept on in the direction you were headed.

Three years ago, you would’ve freaked out and followed them.  But at that point in the relationship, such a scene was par for the course, and you knew it was best to stay out of it. 

—----

Up ahead was a sharp turn in the bend, and Devlin sped up to angle the sedan away from the street.  His approach clipped the bumper of the car, making it lose control, forcing it back into the ditch, but it also made his own bike go flying.  Thankfully he was thrown free before the hunk of metal landed on his leg, skidding across the gravel.

Jackal rode her tire up onto the back of the sedan, pinning it there as the two men inside fled.

Steve was on the ground so fast, he could barely find his feet.  His legs felt like that of a roadrunner in one of the cartoons, flying in circles.  

Eddie snagged the driver, throwing him into the dirt with a grunt, followed with a punch of his fist.  The driver was gangly, with a prison spider web tat on his elbow and dishwater blonde hair styled in a mullet.  

Nick climbed up onto the main road and bolted, until Jackal aimed and shot a bullet so close to his head, the heat grazed his ear.

That made him stutter to a halt, just in time for Steve to tackle him at the waist, putting him down hard on the pavement.  Van took Eddie’s place, putting his knee into the driver’s back, pinning him there while the rest went to deal with the Coffin Kings imposter.

No words were exchanged for a while, just Nick sputtering in pain while Eddie rolled him over to check his pockets.  

He found a wad of bills and waved it in Nick’s bloody face.

“C’mon man, that’s like 2 grand—-” Nick protested through a busted lip before Steve punched him again.

“Yeah, it’s real nice,” Eddie flashed a grin, standing to tuck the money in the top pocket of his leather.  “Take that thing off of him.”

Steve and Devlin got the leather vest off, making sure they hurt him in the process, and then Devlin put his boot on the guys belly to keep him there.

Eddie inspected the insignia���s, noticing there were no rank or name placards, and the material wasn’t even real leather.

Eddie gripped it in his fist.  “Where the fuck did you get this?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear,” Nick wiggled, grimacing at the weight of Devlin’s foot.  “Just let me go, okay?”

Steve bent down to lap the guys face with the back of his hand.  “He asked you a question.”

Nick looked like he’d rather vomit than tell the truth, but then Jackal stepped up and pointed her gun at him.

“Okay okay!” He squirmed.  “M-my mom made it for me, alright? For my birthday a few weeks ago.”

None of them had been expecting that, but they all made eye contact and snickered in disbelief; Eddie’s grin nearly split his face open right before his expression turned dark again.

“Tell your mom to come see us sometime, we’ll put her to work,” he joked.  “But you? You’re fucking done, do you understand—?”

Steve pulled Nick to his feet by his shirt and got in his face, jaw tense.  “I should kill you for what  you did to her.”

Eddie gave a sideway look, not expecting Steve to still have so much heat under his protectiveness for that woman.  Maybe that’s part of what having daughters did to a man.  

“B-b-but you’re not going to, right?”  Nick blubbered. “We’re cool?”

“We’re far from cool,” Steve pulled him close to whisper in his ear.  “I’ll be coming for you.”

And then Steve shoved him so that he tripped over his feet backwards and fell again.  

“You better run, cowboy,” Jackal shot a bullet into the ground at his feet, and he let out a high-pitched scream before taking off down the road on foot.  

“I see either of you again, you’re dead. Understand?” Eddie shouted after both of them as Van let go of his death grip on the driver.

The two were too scared to look back; too busy scurrying away as fast along the corn field to care about how stupid they looked.  

“Hey, War Machine,” Van brushed blonde hair away from his beard stubble. “Was that your girl we passed back there?”

Eddie checked over his shoulder in the direction of the farmhouse, wondering where you’d been headed, exhaling a long breath. “Yeah, it was.”

—-----

You only saw Robin in passing once you arrived at the house and parked behind the Airstream.  Oliver was at school, so it would be the three young girls with you and Astrid. 

The twins were on the floor in the living room, coloring, and you couldn’t get over how much Gracie looked like Steve.  Since they were fraternal, Rue resembled her sibling, but was also very different.  She had Astrid’s wild hair and a face that didn’t quite resemble either of their parents; Astrid said she was the spitting image of their grandmother, Evelyn.  

Astrid came around the corner cradling Mae in her arms with her mane of black hair back in a clip, and her eyes were puffy. 

“Please take her,” she groaned, handing over Mae into your arms with a sigh of relief.  “I can’t do this anymore.”

Mae had a pacifier in her mouth, but you could tell she was smiling up at you, lids droopy.  You began that automatic movement of rocking her in your arms.  You’d never been around many babies in your life, but the soothing gesture seemed to be ingrained in your dna.  

Astrid flopped heavily into the kitchen chair with a groan. “Did Robin tell you Steve never came home last night?”

“She did,” you bent to kiss Mae’s soft forehead. “Eddie came home late and left early, so Steve might’ve been with him, and I just didn’t know it.”

“It’s not like Steve to not leave a note or let me know somehow,” she started picking at an invisible thread on her peach dress that buttoned down the front. “Do you think he did anything with Charlene?”

You were shocked at the question, but your friend looked like she hadn’t slept in days and perhaps wasn’t processing thoughts at peak capacity.  

“Oh god no, Astrid,” Mae squirmed, kicking her strong little legs a few times in her Big Bird onesie, and you sat down in the chair next to Astrid. “Steve would never, and I think you know that. He’d cut his own hand off before he did anything as stupid as cheat on you.”

“Maybe,” she swallowed hard like she was trying to push down a sob. “We just…can’t seem to connect like we used to, and I’m just…just…”

She covered her face with both hands and cursed into her palms.  

“Hey,” you leaned forward with a free arm to rub soothing circles on her back.  “I’ll stay out here with the girls if you want to take a nap or something?  Slam some beers in the bathroom, whatever.”

Astrid chuckled a bit at that, sliding her hands down her face and into her lap. “Maybe I do need some sleep.”

From where you sat, you could see the twins on the floor in the next room with papers and crayons scattered about.  Just then, you noticed that Rue was headed in your direction, curls bouncing around her face.  

There was a tiny frown on her face, like she’d been concentrating, and she handed each of you a piece of lined notebook paper that had been ripped in half.

Apparently, she’d made some drawings, but before you could say anything, she was off again, determined to get back to her work.

“Thank you Rue, I love you,” you called after her.

“One is from meeee!” Gracie shouted.

“I love you too, Gracie,” you laughed, staring fondly down at the mess of colorful scribbles.

“They want to be like their big brother so bad,” Astrid had tears in her eyes, but for a different reason this time; she was so proud of her little family, so grateful to be a mother.

When you held the paper up to the light, you noticed that there was some writing on the back of it, so you turned it over.

My hot wife —

Slept in trailer, didn’t want to wake the girls

Can’t wait to kiss you again

I love you

S.

“Um, I think you should see this—” you passed the note to Astrid, and enjoyed watching the relief spread across her face as she read it.  

—------

A few hours later, Steve rolled up to Munson’s Garage in the Jaguar, after giving it a test run around the hills to enjoy how smooth it took corners.  He found Charlene already waiting there on a bench in the shade, talking with Wayne who wore a pair of light blue coveralls.

Wayne got to his feet while Steve pulled the sportscar up to the closest parking spot.

“Took you long enough,” Uncle barked at him, crossing his arms.  “Cab dropped her off an hour ago.”

He’d left the top down, so his hair was a mess, and he pushed his sunglasses up, eyeing the two.

“No, it’s fine,” Charlene shrugged, looking relaxed.  “I had good company.”  She had on a teal, halter top pant suit with matching heels, and she stuck out like a sore thumb.   

Steve put one booted foot up on the bench seat next to her.  “Yeahm, so, that guy Nick, he wasn’t—”

“I know,” Charlene reluctantly held her hand out to take the keys he was offering. “Eddie told me. I’d like to say I’ve learned my lesson, but probably not.”

“No woman deserves that,” Wayne said, giving Steve a pointed look. “I hope you boys took care of it.”

“We did,” Steve met his gaze, letting him know without words that the dude wouldn’t be hanging around Hawkins if he had a lick of sense.  

Wayne said a polite goodbye to Charlene before heading back to the shop. 

“You never mentioned how charming your uncle is,” she said, running a hand through her hair.

“Stay away from Wayne,” Steve grumbled, sitting down across from her.

“I didn’t mean—” she got flustered and then straightened.  “He reminds me of my dad, that’s all I meant.  Nothing nefarious.”

“Never can tell with you,” he muttered, fumbling to rip the wrapper off a soft pack of Camels with his teeth. He told himself he wouldn’t buy another pack, but he lied.

There was silence while Steve lit his smoke, all but for the sound of faint rock music and an electric drill from one of the garages.

“So,” she chanced. “I hear you have a big family now.”

“Yeah, what about ‘em?” He scowled at her after a hearty inhale.  

Charlene lifted both palms out as a sign of surrender.  “Forget it, I was going to say I’m happy for you.”

Steve snorted.  “You expect me to believe that, after all the shit you pulled, that you actually give a shit about anyone?”

She’d expected that, and she knew she deserved it.  

“I give a shit about you,” she muttered.  “I would’ve done anything for you.”

The sincerity confused him but then he pushed his shoulders back.  “I’ve got everything I ever wanted, and I won’t let anyone fuck with that. ‘Specially not you.”

“Understood,” she said, rubbing her magenta lips together with a nod. 

“I want you to be happy, though,” he softened his tone.  “I cared about you once, and that means I always will, no matter how much I wish that weren’t true.  I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“That’s probably the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she scoffed a self-deprecating laugh.

“That sucks,” Steve exhaled through his nostrils. “You’ve got a good heart, Charlene.  It’s just too bad you don’t know how to use it.”

A car pulled into the compound and at first, Steve didn’t pay much attention until he saw over his shoulder that it was you.

With Astrid and the girls.  

—-----

Eddie turned the radio up in the garage when Come and Get It by Judas Priest came on, and then wiped his hands on a red rag as he made his way to the office.  Although the finances at the Hammer and the garage were handled separately, he’d hired one accountant he trusted to take care of it all, and she’d just left a stack of paperwork for him to sign. 

On the wall behind the desk was a framed photo of the two of you together, hugging in the front doorway of the farmhouse the first day you’d moved in.  The flashback made his mouth twitch in a smile, as he had so many fond memories of those first couple weeks, back when there was nothing but a mattress on the floor and several leaks in the roof he had to control with various buckets.  It was just the two of you, making love and whispering about lifetimes of devotion.

He had a secret place in the metal file cabinet where he kept all of the notes you’d left in his lunch over the months, and he had this tugging need to look through them again just before he caught sight of your car coming through the open gate and into the compound.  Wayne was gone, but there on the picnic table sat Charlene and Steve, and before he could think too much about it, his feet were moving, wrenching the door open to make his way across the lot.

Steve jumped up when he saw you angling for a parking spot nearby.  Oh shit, Eddie realized you had Astrid and the girls with you, too.  The fact that they’d helped Charlene was no secret, but still, it made him feel uneasy with everyone about to converge in one spot. 

—------

“Please tell me that is not Charlene,” Astrid whispered, eyeing the profile of the woman sitting across from her husband.

“I’m afraid that is exactly who it is,” you muttered, suddenly feeling like maybe it wasn’t a great idea to bring the girls by to visit daddy at work. It had been a while, and you assumed she’d be gone by then.

But it was too late now.  You recognized the Jaguar parked nearby; it was the same one she brought in for Eddie to fix that first day you met.

All three girls were safely in car seats in the back, and when Astrid went to step out, Steve was right there, blocking her exit.

Funny enough, Eddie did the same, but on your side.  He was there so fast, you accidentally hit his leg with the door.

“What a sight for sore eyes,” he grinned, pulling you flush to him while tipping your chin up for a kiss.  

With lips still brushing together, you mumbled: “What the hell is she still doing here?”

And then through gritted teeth, Eddie responded: “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Steve went to grab for Astrid right away, hands at her hips, and she let him, but her attention was over his shoulder.  

“To what do I owe this pleasure, gorgeous?” He murmured, noticing that she’d put on some mascara and deep burgundy lipstick after not wearing makeup for months.  

Steve only shuffled back a few steps to allow her to shut the door, but then he continued to act as a barrier to keep her from going any further.  He bent down to knock on the back window, waving to the twins as Mae slept in the car seat between them.  Gracie shouted “daddy!” and held her hand out as if he could grab it through the glass. 

Steve glanced sideways at Eddie.  “So, should we all go get pizza or something? At that one place with the bouncy balls that the girls like? My treat.  If you head over there, we’ll meet you—-”

Eddie was close to telling his friend to shut the hell up, as it felt like his babbling was only making things worse. 

Astrid kissed his cheek.  “Please move out of my way, Steven.”

—----

Charlene stood up and took hold of the keys to head for the Jaguar.  She could tell by the looks you and Astrid were sharing that she’d managed to make things awkward, and more than anything, she felt embarrassed.  

But, she took a step away from the picnic bench just in time to see Steve’s twin daughters come bouncing out of the vehicle in matching Oshkosh overalls and her chest tightened—-oh god, one of them was the spitting image of Steve.

And why were the two tiny girls headed that way on their little wobbly legs as if they knew her?  

“Slow down, Rue!” Astrid called after them as Steve fumbled at getting the car seat out that had Mae inside.  

“She’s, um, she was just leaving,” Steve grunted, trying to move the apparatus out without waking the baby.  Astrid was already rushing to catch up with the girls, making each of them hold one of her hands.  

For some reason, Charlene was frozen.  Locking eyes with Gracie, knowing they were Steve’s hazel eyes, accumulated with the rest of her regrets like a punch to the gut.

Her deep dark secret was that she’d always wanted children of her own, but John refused.  

You and Eddie followed them over, albeit reluctantly.  If there were ever some serious conversation that needed to be had with Charlene, it certainly wouldn’t be done with the kids there, and so you weren’t at all sure what could possibly unfold.  

Although Charlene and Astrid had spent a very tense few moments together the night Craig was shot, they’d never shared more than a few words with each other.  Last night, when Steve got the page from Eddie, she’d known it was about Charlene before he even said a thing; she could feel her arriving in her bones like some might feel the impending threat of cold weather.  

Steve hurried to get between the two women and set the baby carrier on the picnic table.  Gracie was on her tiptoes with her arms up, begging him to put her on his shoulders, and so he did, and she took hold of his hair like a saddle horn.

“Glad we could meet under better circumstances,” Astrid said to Charlene, sincerely.

Eddie put his arm around your shoulder and you sank into him, wrapping both arms around his middle. You wished you could hide under his blue and black flannel so no one could see you.  

“You have a really beautiful family,” was all Charlene could think to say as she caught sight of Steve’s third daughter.

“Thank you,” Astrid replied, maintaining steady eye contact.

There were a few strained silences, and you could feel Eddie wanting to fill them, but suddenly he burst out with:

“Did you want to come by the Hammer and see what we’ve done with the place?” He chirped, rubbing your arm almost violently. 

Your whole body tensed at that, and you could see that it was the same physical response for Steve.  

“No, that’s…I’m good,” Charlene removed the Gucci sunglasses from the top of her head and put them over her eyes.  “There are several cargo crates of my things being sent to Hawaii right now, and I have a flight to catch.  But I’m sure you’ve done well with it.”

But it was Rue who broke the next silence.

She’d wandered a few yards over to the fence and back, carrying two bright yellow dandelions pinched between her fingers.

She was right there, blocking Charlene’s path to her car, arm outstretched to offer her one.

“For me?” Charlene was genuinely confused, and not accustomed to the wholesome kindness often displayed by children.  

Rue just nodded, tucking the other one behind her ear so that the bloom was at her cheek.

The rest of you exchanged a few baffled looks—all but Astrid, because she knew what was happening.  She knew then that her daughter carried the same gift she’d been born with; the gift of intuitive sight.  Even at her young age, Rue could read people and their intentions, and she knew that Charlene was no longer a threat to them.  She knew that everyone in that parking lot deserved healing and forgiveness. 

“Like this?” Charlene put the flower in her hair the same way with tentative fingers, and Rue nodded again, moving around the woman to walk back over to her family.

Astrid scooped Rue up into her arms.

Charlene took one last look over at the group as she drove out of the compound, seeing the way you all smiled at each other, continuing on with conversation as if she’d never been there. You were all visibly relieved to no longer be sharing space with her, but Rue had been able to see her with fresh eyes, without all of the pain and suffering she’d inflicted on others and on herself.  There’d been no judgment or weariness in that child’s eyes; just curiosity and love. It gave her a bit of hope that maybe she could…start over.  Maybe she’d fall in love again with a guy who wasn’t Steve, maybe she’d adopt a child of her own one day, or maybe…she’d get a dog and call it a day.  

—------

A few days later, you couldn’t find Scully, and the two of you fell into panic mode.

“Did you let her out?” Eddie snapped.  “You know we need to keep her inside this close to the due date.”

Eddie was a mess. Granted, you were upset too, but he was ready to tear the whole house apart looking for her, and then some.  You couldn’t help but smile to yourself seeing how devoted he was to this once stray cat.  Some nights he even made room between the two of you so that Scully could sleep in the middle.

But finally, a soft mewing from the closet alerted you to the fact that she’d tucked herself away in the dark to have her babies.  

“Honey, come look,” you whispered down the hall to him.

There she was, snuggled back in the corner in a box of old sweatshirts, nursing four tiny baby kittens.  She had one more a half hour later to make the final count five.  Two black, one gray, one black and white, and one orange striper.

“Daddy must’ve been an orange guy, hey my darling?” He hummed a conversation to Scully as you picked them all up to put down some fresh blankets, making sure she had food and water nearby.  

“What should we name them?” Eddie asked as you both sat in the doorway, watching them nuzzle together for sleep.

“I think we should let Oliver name the orange little girl, since I know that’s the one he’ll pick,” you whispered, to which Eddie agreed.  “Maybe I’ll name the gray one Keanu,” you said, mostly joking, but Eddie didn’t seem bothered.  As soon as it was possible, Scully would be back at the vet to get fixed, but you were grateful to have this experience with him.

“Can I name the black ones Dio and Vecna?”  He asked, hopefully.

“What kind of a name is Vecna?” You wrinkled your nose.  “Should we call him Vicky for short?”

“The black and white looks like a Leia,” he continued, eyes sparkling.  

“Leia is a good name,” you hummed, putting your cheek on his shoulder. 

You moved Scully and her box of babies into your bedroom so that she would be closer if she needed anything, but then in the middle of the night, she moved the kittens back to the same spot in the guest bedroom closet, so then that is where you let her stay.  

Later that night, you were in the kitchen cleaning up before bed, when you heard Eddie singing a song under his breath in the next room:

“Hey little girl is your daddy home, did he go and leave you all alone…”

You thought you recognized it as you scrubbed a dish, eyes darting to the window to watch two motorcycles zoom by on the dark highway in the distance.

“I got a bad desire…”

On the refrigerator behind you, secured by magnets, were photo snapshots of the two of you with Steve and Astrid, Robin and Katie, Gracie, Rue and one of Mae when she was first born.  There was one of Wayne twenty years ago, standing with Taz and War Machine as two gangly teenagers.  There was a long strip from a photo booth at the fair with you, Eddie, and Oliver all making faces for the camera.  

“Tell me now, baby, is he good to you

Can he do to you the things that I do? I can take you higher…”

He’d been folding the blanket on the couch and blowing out candles, but then he was on his way to  you as the mumbled lyrics got clearer:

“Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull

And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull…”

You finished what you were doing, but then you stayed still, feeling him come up behind.  

“At night, I wake up with the sheets soaking wet

And a freight train running through the middle of my head…”

You leaned back, letting yourself be caged in his embrace; his head dipping to kiss your neck.  You thought about that day on the side of the road when he picked you up in the tow truck, and how it didn’t feel like you were meeting for the first time but more, coming back together after a lifetime apart.  

His lips ghosted the shell of your ear.  “Only you can cool my desire…”

After that first kiss years ago,  you knew there would never be another option for you; Eddie Munson was endgame.  Having tasted true love once in your life, you felt like you could die happy.

But not until you rode the highway of life for a long, long time.  Even at the end, you’d still be holding on tight.

“...Oh oh oh I’m on Fire…”

—------

The Epilogue of an Epilogue

“Yo, Steve. Package for you.”

It was Thumper, working the door at the Velvet Hammer for what promised to be a wild Friday night. Max ended up showing interest in the Assistant Manager position, after deciding that long haul trucking was taking a toll on her need to start a family, and Robin couldn’t hire her fast enough. Jeff also came on as a part-time bartender, leaving you pleasantly surprised and wondering what other skill sets he had up his sleeve.  

Steve had just come through the door to ask Shana for a cup of coffee when the crumpled brown piece of mail flew at his chest.  He caught it, but took the time to throw Thumper a dirty look.  

“Ease up, boss,” the burly biker grumbled through a huge grin.  “Since when do you have a penpal in Hawaii?”

He stopped in his tracks at that, afraid to look down.  Afraid to open it, even.  Steve’s newest ink—-Mae’s name on the back of his hand—-glistened from the recent layer of Aquaphor.

He asked for his coffee with a pound of sugar and sat at the end of the bar, frowning.

The return address was a P.O. box in Honolulu without a name, but he didn’t even have to wonder.  He was sure he could smell the Chanel through the packaging.

Inside was a ring of keys.

Car keys, clearly, but it took him a second to understand what they belonged to and why they looked so familiar in his hand.

There was also a note:

These are the keys to the Jaguar.  It’s parked in a secure garage at the airport, instructions also enclosed.

Every time I drive it, I get myself in trouble. Hopefully you will have better luck, or maybe Rue can have it when she gets older. 

The dandelion was a fair trade.  

C.

—----

I have so much to say, so much love to give to you all, and I hope you can feel it through the words. I'm so deeply grateful for each one of you and this experience. Whether you have left comments, reblogs, thoughtful asks, or edits, I remember you and you are special to me. I would give anything to meet up at the Velvet Hammer for cocktails (and/or tea, of course) but here are a few in particular I'd like to thank:

Huge thank you to @cryptidcurio for being the initial inspiration for this fic in the first place, and for always feeding me the best ideas. Some of the most popular scenes in this series are from her. Our biker Eddie and biker Steve talks seem to have somehow gotten us through the past hellish year, I love you. I'm so grateful for @texasblues and all of our chats about Steve, Astrid, Wayne, and the girls. Truly, the only reason Astrid and Steve are so perfect is because of Jennie and our brainstorming. We chat a lot about what Rue, Gracie, and Mae will be like when they are older, and hopefully we'll have a few blurbs about that someday. Also, I highly recommend her Steve & Astrid writings HERE My beautiful friend @dandelionnfluff decided to do a bind of I'm on Fire for their personal use and I am still choked up about how much work they put in and how gorgeous it is. You can see their amazing work here: book bind

-------

Taglist: @notsobubblybaby @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer@manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare@chaoticgood-munson @emxcast @rhirojo @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @falling-solar-system@secretdryrose

@whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @kurdtbean@dandelionnfluff @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales@laylaloves-ed@dashingdeb16@eddiiiieeee @ick90 @dashingdeb16 @polyestermonster @trixyvixx @atomickaratel8dy @kiyastrf94 @allthingsjoeq @eddiesxangel @razzieth @corrodeddeadlydoll @erinekc @angietherose @sllooney @writinginthetwilight @moonbeamsandmayhem @brianamunson92 @joannamuns9n @bellalillyrose @alba8688 @chevelle724

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Bit Slow Round These Parts

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Dec 2023 Wk 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 8 of 12 - Mhok is about the most indulgent boyfriend on the planet. Why they dressed as 1930s gangsters for the wedding? I have no idea idea, but it’s adorable. IFYLITA mark 2? And they’re even dancing together using bits of the same steps that were used that show too. Cute nod.

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 6 of 10 - Everything but the kitchen sink includes lesbians apparently. Excellent. Carry on. Also a lot of filler about the sides. (Boring, stop that.) I wish the doctor were a little bit more of a multifaceted character (and less evil snakey), and that we had some of his backstory + Tharn. If we saw them as kids, having a longer true friendship, it would make Tharn’s attitude a little bit more sympathetic and forgiving.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 5 of 10 - I like this show, but it’s awfully one-sided in the romance arena. I mean shouldn’t they be trying to support and make each other happy? Why does it always have to come from Him? Also, I’m constantly worried about the fact that Nail doesn’t eat any vegetables. His digestive track must be in serious distress. And if the boy is a bottom?! Look I have concerns is all I'm saying, I hope he's getting his fiber along with the dk. Meanwhile... Mom confrontation! Always fun.  

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 9 of 10 - Now I’m having a hard time keeping the twins straight. Who’s getting beat up for whom, what’s going on? No matter who, First caught himself a live one. I like those bits.

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 7 of 14 - I got little crumbs of my sides but not enough, and then they dropped the mpreg bomb. Kinda like blowing the BL diaper. Trash watch happening here.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 5 of 12 - They are so cute. And mostly such good communicators. Except evil dad is evil! I didn’t have OffGun tango on my bingo card, but I'm happy to check it off. After making everyone sing, GMMTV is now making everyone dance. I much prefer it. Kiss came a bit out of nowhere. But it was sweet. 

A few minutes later...

Bake Me Please (Mon Gaga) ep 6fin - I don’t know, I feel like this just wasn’t good enough for the class of talent involved. Which means it’s mostly the story and script's fault. In the end I kinda just wanted Guy to get the guy.

In cluclusion:

A lack-luster story about a group of bakers coping with (mostly) a shoddy script that could not be saved by either the beauty nor the talent of the actors involved. It suffered for lack of narrative backbone and so did I. 6/10

Middleman’s Love (Fri YT & iQIYI ep 8fin - Mai is an adorable clingy boyfriend, and that bit was kind of cute.

Summation:

Office clown, Jade, a manic pixie dream dork, is courted by the new intern, Mai. This show is right in my wheelhouse but it fell flat for me. I wish it had lived up to the concept behind the title (if nothing else). If we had done more of Jade‘s family and the reasons behind his self-worth struggles and self-acceptance issues, they might have been easier to bare. Without backstory, the show had no through line. In the end, Jade was a largely intolerable character, and Mai felt flat and lacking in personality. I was disappointed with this show, and I hope they don't blame the pair for the poor ratings. 6/10

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) 1626 ep 19 of 24 - Meh. So dull. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - I’m not really interested in the late addition love triangle concept.

Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 4 of 8 - a bit too frenetic and manic for me, this one. Glasses boy is best boy. But I’m kind of confused as to was actually going on with this show. Including whether I like it or not.

I Became the Main Role of a BL (Japan Sun Gaga) ep 1-3 - AKA BL Drama no Shuen ni Narimashita: Crank Up Hen - it should finish airing at the very beginning of the year, so I decided to wait and watch all 3 back-to-back. 

It's Airing But...

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far.

Night Dream (Sat YT) 6 eps - It’s a pain to track down and I really didn’t like the first episode so… DNF  

The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). I don't think even the perfect single dimple can motivate me to watch. Word is... it's terrible.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes. I'm waiting to binge if safe.

Dead Friend Forever (Thai Sat iQIYI) - horror, meh, tell me if it's worth my time?

It's done and I didn't, or we can't

Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) 8 eps - House of Stars meets Boyband. I was NOT impressed with ep 1. Been told I shouldn't bother. So I won't.

Behind the Shadows (Korea movie) - This is a historical I was interested in, but I've been told they kill the gay so I'm OUT.

[INTERNATIONAL] Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 3 of 12 - yeah Japan put the smack down on our boys. Sadness. You can use a VPN if you like. Read all about it here.

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have a spare day.

Crazy work load right now so no idea when that will be. (End of year is a bear for me.)

Honestly I'm gonna have an epic number of dnf's this year for me.

Next Week Looks Like This

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED). With the end of the year upon us I'll do an "announced for 2023 but never happened list" soon.

Also my best ofs are coming.

Don't think I'll do a stats round up this year, everything progressing as before.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

(Last week) - sorry, forgot to link it.

It's 2024 people! Round ups are coming!!!! Leave a comment or an ask, if you have something specific you want addressed.

[foxglovegames]

Trouble Comes Twice - the Postmortem

We celebrated Trouble Comes Twice's anniversary around a month ago! We'd hoped to post this postmortem back then as well, but it's taken us a moment to find the right words haha.

Anyway, we hope that this postmortem can give our players and other visual novel devs some insight into what the development process looked like for us. It's also a great way for us to look back at what went well and what went less well.

We'll be taking about the ideation phase, our (lack of) marketing for the Kickstarter, and also sharing (what we can) on our earnings from the game!

Coming up with Trouble Comes Twice

The original tone of Trouble Comes Twice was a lot more comedic and packed to the brim with anime tropes we enjoy. Most didn't make it into the final game, but some stayed and evolved e.g. all of the love interests are based on popular visual novel archetypes - the childhood friend, the tomboy, the shy girl, and the bad boy. 

Some, like Cameron and Zoe, changed a lot from their concept while Adrian and Stephanie stayed quite loyal to our original ideas of them. Cameron's character actually underwent the most changes after the initial reception to the demo, where a lot of people felt like he was too much of an ass haha. (Fortunately, he became a fan favorite when we dropped the new demo!)

The premise with the bet was something we invented to create some drama and establish a common plot thread throughout each route. Honestly, looking back, we would probably have approached the bet differently if we wrote it today and a lot of our pre-planning was... clumsy, at best. Still, it was a labor of love and I'll never forget the fun and excitement we had everyday balling ideas for the characters and coming up with their designs.

As Melli and I are just writers with limited coding experience, we worked with a past game jam friend to code the GUI and set up the base for the game (though the actual scripting was done by us and Melli put everything together in the end). Our biggest expenses pre- and post-demo was the character art and CGs, meanwhile we relied on free music and BG packs to save money.

Why a bisexual romcom?

So, this was sort of a no-brainer to us. We had decided right from the start that both twins could date both the male and female love interests, and (at the time) we feel that a lot of similar games had playersexual MCs rather than established bisexual/pansexual MCs. While playersexual charas are also awesome, we wanted to write a romcom where the main cast are always queer regardless of who you end up romancing. 

At the same time, bi/pan people don't all approach romantic relationships the same way e.g. Cameron is confident and has experience dating people of all genders, while Adrian's demi and Jace still struggles a bit with his attraction towards men. We know that some of our players felt like that made certain routes less romantic than others and we hear you on that feedback and have 100% taken it into consideration for our future romance games. But anyway, that was our thought process behind Trouble Comes Twice's romance dynamics!

Preparing for Kickstarter & the actual Campaign

Our Kickstarter launched at the start of August and let me tell you, we were nowhere near as prepared as we should have been. 😭 We hadn't set up a Steam page yet, we were trailer-less, and we only had a couple of hundred followers across our socials at best. I feel that there's a lot more successful Kickstarter projects to refer to and even a lot of marketing guides and advice now, but mostly it's on us for not researching more. 

The Kickstarter campaign did surprisingly well despite the lack of promotion and only having a rough alpha demo - we were even able to double our goal! - but we  wouldn't recommend what we did for other devs.

You should invest time into making a good demo, spend time building an interested audience before launching your campaign, and research so you've got some kind of marketing plan. We were lucky with word-of-mouth and that other visual novel devs with larger followings helped share our game, but we should have made more effort reaching out to bloggers, streamers, and game sites. Some crowdfunding successes may seem like they came out of nowhere and were just pure luck, but there's usually a lot of grinding behind-the-scenes that you don't notice.

The post-Kickstarter era, at least for us, was the harder bit. We now had 353 loyal backers who had expectations based on promises we had made and we had to make sure we met those expectations while also staying true to our wants as the devs. It was a learning process for sure, but we're fairly proud that we always did our best to keep our backers in the loop. It's frustrating to write an update explaining that the game has been delayed again, but backers are more open to being understanding than you think as long as you communicate!

A tip we'd give to new devs considering Kickstarter: Don't overestimate what you can do, but overestimate what you need. There's always hidden costs, unexpected taxes/fees, and other unknown obstacles that might eat up your budget. In our case, we made enough to make the game as planned, but had to change CG artists around halfway through development which meant our original budget didn't cut it anymore. Fortunately, we had earned a decent amount from our Patreon and pre-orders that we were able to use to complete the CGs, but that isn't always going to be an option for everyone and that also meant we were unable to use that money ourselves. (We didn't take any money from the original Kickstarter campaign, so whatever was earned through patreon and pre-sales was our only "salary" at the time.) 

Writing the game

Writing is, for obvious reasons, one of the most important parts of a visual novel. Melli wrote Jace's routes and I wrote Hazel's routes, which removed some pressure off our shoulders compared to trying to write over 300,000 words all on our own. 

It's fun working with another writer, but there are also some unique issues and considerations that come up when you're writing a game with two protagonists split between two writers. Especially because at the time, there weren't many visual novels with a similar set up to refer to.

The main things we learned, were:

Consistency. We wanted each couple to have their own dynamic, but the characterization needs to remain consistent between routes. You don't want Adrian in Jace's route to feel like a totally different character in Hazel's route. Additionally, we had to be careful that the tone and writing style of the protagonists' POVs still felt like you were playing the same game. Some routes can be more comedic than others, but we've got a problem if Hazel's routes are all (unintentionally) more serious/angsty in tone than Jace's or vice versa.

Watch out for your word count! Longer does not always equal better and writing eight routes, we had to put some restrictions in place. Even when writing on your own, it can be tough to guess how long your story should be, and it was important to us that the routes were roughly the same length so that none felt more "canon" than the other. However, with two writers who have different writing styles and ways of planning, it was tricky to compare our outlines and we struggled at times when it came to matching each other's word counts. Moving forward, we're probably going to be more lenient when it comes to word counts - some routes have to be longer than others, it doesn't mean that route is automatically more "important". We're also doing more regular meetings and frequent check-ins to make sure we're on the same page. In the future, we hope that should save us a lot of trouble when it comes to pacing! 🙈

Balancing your own wants with the wants of your players. In theory, these overlap most of the time. But making a commercial game (that people had already "bought" through the Kickstarter), there is some pressure when it comes to meeting certain expectations. We can't always just write what we want and assume everyone else is going to love it, but we also don't want to neglect what we personally like. We had a survey for the beta where we were able to get regular feedback and a lot of helpful advice. We definitely want to continue with surveys in the future - they are a great way to gather opinions from different players and figure out what works versus what doesn't! 

We took on too many tasks outside writing that distracted us. This bit is sort of inevitable for indie devs like us. 😅 Working with a limited budget and limited resources, you just end up having to wear a lot of hats! We think we did quite well sharing these duties though, and moving forward (thanks to you guys) we can afford more hands on deck to help us out. 

Marketing

The bane of every indie game dev's existence... although secretly, I kind of enjoy marketing but don't tell anyone that!

Having learned a thing or two from promoting the Kickstarter, we spent more time researching games marketing but in the end, trial and error was the best teacher.

As we got closer to the release date, we were posting almost daily on social media and grew our Twitter to over eight thousand followers. We didn't have any viral posts, but we saw a consistent growing interest in our game and it was such a motivation boost to see comments from potential players being excited for the game. We know a lot of devs have said that Twitter didn't help their game much but according to our stats, a decent number of our players found us through the platform. 

We saw less success here on Tumblr. Perhaps we haven't cracked the code here yet or maybe we're just comparing our numbers from Twitter unfairly! We're not hung up about it though, we love it here because it feels easier to connect with our followers and other devs there, and it's nice because we're able to write longer posts like this one! 💓

Aside from posting on social media, we reached out to several streamers and some bloggers prior to release to send them free game keys. 

We also commissioned some art from other artists to share, as we obviously couldn't reveal ALL our CGs before the release lol and visual posts tend to do a lot better in our experience. It was so much fun to see the characters in other art styles and we hope we can afford to commission guest art pieces a lot more frequently in the future!

In hindsight, we definitely regret not releasing a trailer sooner! We underestimated how much interest a good trailer could garner and delayed setting up our Steam page because of it. Steam was the platform where we sold the most copies and most of our buyers found the game through Steam itself.

Also, posting your trailer on youtube adds another site where you're promoting your game so there's really no reason not to get that trailer done as soon as you can. 

Final Notes

After the initial stress, we were pretty happy with our release! Although there were some things we would go back and change if we could,  that's just the nature of these kind of things. For the most part, we're proud of what we achieved and happy that we have learnt so much from Trouble Comes Twice that we can take into consideration for future projects.

We can't share exact numbers, but we wanted to open up a bit about our earnings for the game to help other aspiring devs: As of writing this, Trouble Comes Twice has earned close to 85,000 euros. This counts our profits from 2020 to now (the Kickstarter, Patreon, pre-sales, and actual sales). Removing fees, taxes, the salaries of our talented artists and other freelancers, as well as the money invested into our next game, our personal pockets did not see anything close to those numbers. But we're super proud of how much our little game has made and so grateful that it's allowed us more creative freedom with our next title! 

So, what's next?

You might have heard but for the past year, we've slowly been working on the demo and upcoming announcement for our next visual novel:

A 17+ supernatural neon-noir romance game about monsters, love, and other horrors. 

Play as vampire detective Circe (female protagonist) or hellhound cop Dante (male protagonist) and delve into the mysteries of North Haven, where demons, vampires, and supernaturals hide in plain sight among humans.

The game features six routes, with three romance options available to each protagonist. Dante only has male romances and Circe has both male and female romances. 

The game tackles a darker, more angsty tone compared to Trouble Comes Twice. Still, we hope that those who decide to check it out will enjoy it! We plan to announce the game this coming Autumn. Follow our Twitter (we're still not calling it X sorry) or Tumblr to stay up to date.

[apomaro-mellow]

Whatever Stevie Wants

A sequel to Every Baby Needs a Daddy that is really just a Corroded King love-fest. Mostly fluff! Will there be drama? Still contemplating that. Stay tuned!

Read on AO3

Steve thought about the night he met Eddie. Cold, hungry, feeling pathetic. But he happened to spark up a conversation with an alpha in a bar that he vaguely recognized. And now…well, now he wasn’t cold. He was sitting on a very nice rocking chair with the AC at the perfect temperature. He wasn’t hungry. The kitchen was always fully stocked with whatever he might want. It had been since before he moved in but ever since he started getting pregnancy cravings, his pack made certain just about every food under the sun was available.

And it was hard to feel pathetic and unlovable when there were four men practically worshipping him everyday. The love in their home increased tenfold when the pups arrived. Violet Adams, born of him and Jeff Adams, and Vanessa Munson born of him and Eddie.

Violet was napping in a crib nearby while Steve held Vanessa to his chest. Eddie was sitting across from them, strumming his acoustic idly, making naptime feel all the more warm and fuzzy. Steve adjusted his hold on Vanessa, helping her to latch on properly. Eddie was strumming softly just across from them but he could always tell when he got too distracted. His hands would get slack on the strings. Steve didn’t even need to look up to know his jaw was in the same position too. But he did anyway. He liked his alpha looking longing.

“When’s it my turn?”, Eddie teased.

Steve shook his head but tried to keep his body still from disturbing his pup too much. “I think you’ve gotten plenty of turns.”

The moment Steve’s chest started to fill out from pregnancy, it was like Eddie had gotten a new toy. He wasn’t the only one in the pack that went crazy for his tits but he was the biggest culprit. 

Vanessa drank her fill and her eyelids got heavy now that her stomach was full. Steve put her in the crib on the opposite end of her sister. Once she was settled, he readjusted his shirt, covering himself up. Eddie swallowed in a way that wasn’t subtle at all. 

----------------------

Their days were filled with domestic bliss most of the time. Steve had experienced a bit of the limelight here and there but since they realized the twins were on the way he went out less. Now though, he was feeling the edges of cabin fever. He and his mates were able to go out to eat more often since Eddie’s Uncle Wayne and Jeff’s mother Beatrice moved in to help with the twins.

There was something so special to Steve about having three generations living under one roof. He almost wished his parents could be a part of it. He’d even sent them photographs of his daughters through the mail. They hadn’t said a word since he and Eddie were officially married and his name was changed from Harrington to Munson and they dropped the case against him.

It seemed like they wanted no part in his life and Steve wasn’t going to force them into it.

---------------------------

It was close to evening when Steve found Eddie in the basement, writing while lounging in the home studio the band sometimes worked on. He crawled right on top of him and scented his alpha, purring as he got comfortable.

“Daddy.”

“Hey, baby.”

“Daddy, ‘m hungry.”

Eddie set the notebook and pencil down and rubbed Steve’s back. “And what does my baby wanna eat?”

About half an hour later, Steve was being hand-fed lobster by Eddie in a restaurant so exclusive, it felt like you needed a password to get in. Steve had started out using his own fork and knife to eat, but he let out one moan of pleasure at the food and Eddie started serving him personally.

“Tastes good, baby?”

“Mmm, so good.”

The wait staff was the kind that didn’t constantly come around the table and the lighting was on the low, romantic side. Just the right kind of atmosphere that Steve didn’t feel self conscious about the sounds he let out. There had been more than once when Steve felt like he was in danger of losing Eddie and the other’s interest. When he started getting heavy with pregnancy, only to have them adore his growing body.

When he finally gave birth and saw his parts of him now sagged and stretched, only for their gazes to still be in awe. It got to the point that Eddie wanted to use some of the pics from his maternity shoot on their next album.

And he only got more brazen with his shows of affection as time went on. One hand kept feeding Steve, sometimes licking away crumbs left on the corners of his mouth. The other hand was, innocently (at least at the moment), rubbing circles on his stomach.

“You really spoil me”, Steve said after swallowing his last bite.

“Sweet thing, not even this feels like enough”, Eddie confessed. His hand dipped further under the table, further down Steve’s body.

Steve spread his legs, even putting one in Eddie’s lap so that his mate could touch him more. Taking the advantage, Eddie expertly opened up his pants and it took very little coaxing to have Steve grinding against his hand. Eddie’s attention was held by his love’s enraptured expression, but then it moved down to the two dark dots forming on his shirt. 

“Fuck”, Eddie whispered, mouth watering as he imagined taking a tit in his mouth right now, draining Steve through the fabric.

Instead, he pulled his hand out of his pants, heart breaking on the whine it elicited but staying strong. Eddie shushed him gently and kissed his cheek.

“Let’s get you somewhere a little more comfortable.”

That ended up being the backseat of a car, a familiar in-between when either of them got too riled up for being in public and yet couldn’t wait until they got home. Steve straddled his alpha’s lap and started to unbutton his shirt. His nipples glistened in the moonlight and Eddie reached out reverently. 

He buried his face in Steve’s chest, scenting his sweetness there and then gave one of his nipples a lick, lapping at it and taking his time. Like an aperitif before the main dish. Only when Steve grabbed the back of his head, pushing him in more did he wrap his lips around and start to suck in earnest. 

Steve started to grind again, just like in the restaurant. But instead of getting off on Eddie’s fingers, he used his husband’s thigh, pressing down, feeling slick gush out and make him slide even more. Eddie was getting off on him, on the sweet milk that he made for their pups.

“Daddy, Daddy please”, Steve begged, though he wasn’t sure what for.

One of Eddie’s hands snaked up his back, doing his part to keep himself latched onto the beautiful breast in his mouth. The other went to his ass, spurring him on to keep going as he got closer to his climax. Eddie groaned against his skin, it was impossible to get enough. Not wanting to ignore the other one, he pulled off, licking his way to the other side of Steve’s chest and took that nipple into his mouth.

Steve’s pleas turned to wordless moaning as he ground down and suddenly he was seeing stars. His whole body shook as the waves of pleasure rocked through him and for a moment, he didn’t know where he was.

Eddie licked his lips. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were in heat, sweetheart.”

The laugh Steve let out was shaky and breathless as he ran a hand through his hair. Every time felt like he was in heat. Every time one of them put their hands on him, Steve felt like a slave to desire. Was this what it was like to be in love? It must be.

“You take such good care of me, Daddy”, Steve said, arms coming around his shoulders.

“Course I do. You’re mine, Stevie. And I’m never letting you go.”

Part 2

[dairy-farmer]

I need a no capes au that’s just high school drama. Gotham academy gossip about the older Wayne brothers Dickey (a senior) and Jason (a Junior) and there little freshman bother (he was put up two whole grades bc he’s a genius) that they drag around and never put down. They always got that cute little baby faced Timmy sitting in their lap.

Or maybe he’s not adopted yet, and rumour has it he as dating both brothers!! :0🤭

It goes around the school that someone saw little Timmy behind the science building with both of them!! ‘Did you hear?!? He’s not even 13 yet!!’

He was already the hot topic of school gossip but no one could have guess that there could have been anything more scandalous then a freshman dating TWO! Other students but brothers?! They were proven wrong when Timmy is adopted and becomes a Wayne as well!!! 😵😯😮🥴

OR

maybe all the batkids are all Bruce’s from various affairs all different mothers. Because ‘Brucie’ isn’t a cover in this universe he’s just always like that to some degree and he ends up with all the kids from all his babies mummas for various reasons but mostly because he loves them!!

I just need a fucked up incestuous family dynamic that is just all rich people behaviour and super out of touch.

Oh perfect for Casstim twincest my beloved! Maybe real twins tht are the only two that share both the same parents or are just the same age with different mothers and quickly becoming inseparable and loved to play house together. 🥰

I need messy MESSY public family drama! Exes selling stories to the media. Leaked videos big scandals and weird dark family dynamics.

I want 2000’s Paris Hilton style behaviour from these children after school and into early adulthood. They are all the princes and princesses of this city and they ARE entitled limo hoping heirs to the Gotham high society. And I NEED all of Gotham overly invested in it.

Ps I love you x

aw ❤️❤️❤️!!!! you're so nice ❤️

and yes!!!

!!!!!!!!!!! bruce being their actual bio dad from numerous one night stands and affairs is so good!!!! all of them are related and have incesty fucked up dynamics only bruce doesn't think it's wrong and also genuinely isn't paying attention to them most of the time to even notice. he loves them duh! he just doesn't find them interesting most of the time so if it turns out they're fucking well who is he to stop them. even when the media catches on because bitter exes do tell-alls about the fucky wayne family bruce just shrugs and says kids will be kids. even when questioned about a leaked video of little 13 year old tim being fucked by his older brothers bruce just rolls his eyes and says 'well who hasn't wanted to fuck tim'?

all of them and their bad/weird reputations and how they don't care because they're young, rich, and spoiled kids of a billionaire who is too busy going out to make more kids to notice theyre fucking each other

[transsongtaewon]

On the screen, a man and a woman kissed in the rain, possibly while crying.

Based on Yoohyun's half-hearted observations on the drama, before this scene, they had broken up no less than three times, destroyed multiple life-long friendships, and been, just, really annoying all the way through. But now they had their happy ending. At least until they found out that the man had slept with the woman's evil twin. Yoohyun wasn't sure if the man knew it was the twin and not the woman, but he also did not particularly care.

He mostly just wanted the drama to end.

Not that he had anything better to do while waiting for Yoojin to get done at the vet clinic. Technically, Yoojin's shift had ended ten minutes ago, but it wasn't like a secretary could just hang up in the middle of a phone-call, no matter how annoying the caller was. At least that's what Yoojin claimed, Yoohyun did not feel the same.

But until Yoojin came to get him, he would just have to sit in the waiting room and watch the drama the clinic for some reason considered suitable waiting-room-entertainment. Maybe it had been chosen because there was an entire arc centered around a dog dying and was therefore deemed thematically relevant for people who came to the clinic to have their dogs put down.

When those episodes aired the waiting room was filled with more sniffles than usual.

Yoohyun really wished the drama had never been filmed back then.

"Did you have to wait long?"

"No, hyung."

Yoojin was wearing the jacket he had been given at his delivery job, still layered above the vet-clinic scrubs, looking exhausted but cheerful. The same as he always did.

Yoohyun smiled at him. Yoojin grinned back.

Yoojin cast a look at the tv where the man and the woman were now holding hands in a park, interrupted by occasional shots of the woman-but-with-glasses-on (the evil twin) looking menacing.

He sighed dreamily. "Ah, love. Beautiful, isn't it?"

Yoohyun was not entirely sure what exactly was supposed to be beautiful about all the miscommunication and tears he had been told by countless shows and movies were the pinnacle of love, but he nodded along anyway.

"And to think one day, my beloved little brother will find love for himself." Yoojin ruffled his hair, making Yoohyun pout a little.

"But I already love you more than anyone, hyung."

Yoojin laughed, clearly touched but also bemused. "But Yoohyun-ah, I don't meant that kind of love. I mean when you grow up and meet a nice girl to settle down with and I get to babysit all my cute nieces and nephews."

"Mhm."

Yoohyun decided not to protest any more. Yoojin seemed to care greatly about Yoohyun's hypothetical romantic future, even if Yoohyun knew deep down that he would never love anyone that way.

He realised this basically the moment the concept of romantic love started being floated around by the adults in his life, be it by the kindergarten teachers calling any boys and girls playing together "little boyfriends and girlfriends" or fairy tales declaring the power of the love's kiss. It all sounded rather silly to him.

Very few seemed to share his perspective on the matter, though. Maybe he was just born different. It wouldn't be the only way he failed to match the expectations for a person.

"Come on, Yoohyun. We have to run if we want to catch the bus."

Yoohyun got up and patted down his school uniform, making sure he didn't leave anything behind in the waiting room. As they went outside, he threw one last glance at where the man and the woman were having carefully choreographed, mostly implied sex and knew that this would never be him.

Written for Sctir Pride Week Day 5: "Born This Way"

[honey-everythingisonfire]

am i the only person thinking about twst x obey me where yuu gets yeeted from night raven to devildom?

just me?

cool.

thinking about a yuu that got dragged from their world, into twisted wonderland and dealing with all the overblots, all the drama and trauma of the housewardens, all of the training they go through to survive as a magic-less human in a magic school.

by the end of their first year, yuu has become strong and agile, able to analyze a fight quickly, and lead their friends to victory. they don’t need to rely on grim or their friends to constantly protect them, they know how to hold their own just fine.

so imagine their surprise when their second year rolls around and they are suddenly launched into devildom. but unlike sweet yuki, yuu already has experience on how to deal with people who have close relationships with bad personalities and assholes with untreated trauma.

yuu doesn’t trust belphie for shit, but they got dragged into something messy again, so they might as well get to work fixing it before it becomes too bad. they blame their bleeding heart for helping him every time, and boy, are they glad they trained to somewhat deal with crushing pressure from a certain eel twin.

sure, satan is the literal embodiment of wrath, but yuu’s pretty desensitized to rage in general after having to face a red-headed housewarden multiple times a month due to their idiot friends. plus, he at least has an off switch if you just give him some cats.

mammon is greedy, a gambling addict, and also incredibly lonely because he is often the scapegoat of his brother’s issues and craves affection? oh, so like grim. just give him love and affection. and also don’t let him out of your sight, those clothes are worth so much more than fancy tuna.

levi refuses to interact with people without someone by his side? well, time to channel your inner excited little brother, and get him to explain his nerd shit to you, and then maybe you can trick him into putting down his phone for a bit at the table, at the cost of learning about a random gacha character’s niche skills.

if anyone actually cared to ask (which nobody ever does, yuu’s a bit surprised they themself haven’t blotted yet), yuu would actually say that dealing with the brothers is easier than dealing with their friends back home. the marks certainly help reign them in, and it helps that the brothers aren’t teenagers who (mostly) have shit impulse control (staring at you, mammon). and they also don’t blot, so no need to beat the shit out of them.

yuu thinks that if it were a game, twisted wonderland would be round one, where you get used to the controls and gameplay, and devildom would be round two, where you have to start putting skills and abilities together. yuu also thinks that this is a very shit game, and would love to go home to ramshackle, where they at least had a bit of privacy.

at some point, malleus shows up to bring his child of man back, and that is a whole can of worms.