#there's a slightly less harsh version under the cut but I love the way this turned out

[breach-of-conduct]

"I'm- I don't exactly.. um. Know. They didn't make me with all of his memories. You didn't really think I just grew the skin back, did you?"

[iheartbbws2]

Notice Me

Harry Wells x Reader

Warnings/summary: some cursing, talk of readers harsh past, mostly funny(?) and awkward flirting

A/N: I don’t even know what this is, but I used to have the biggest crush on Harry

~~~~

"Is he always that sexy, or is this a new thing?", you asked, causing the rest of team Flash to stare at you.

You were talking about Harrison Wells, the newer, bitchier one from Earth-2 and he had just left out, mad about something probably.

New to team flash, everyone was still getting used to your bluntness, and your inability to bite your tongue.

When everyone just stares at you with your mouth dropped, you finally break the silence, "What? He's cute."

"He looks like the man who killed Ronnie, Eddie, and Barry's mother. Plus he's like, at least twice your age.", Caitlin responds, her face scrunched up like she can't believe what you're saying.

"Well first off, he didn't do any of that because he's a different version of Wells, and second, I have the tendency to be attracted to older men because of the lack of love and attention I got from my own father as a child, but thank you so much for bringing up my daddy issues.", you laugh at the look on her face, kind of feeling bad about bringing up the awkward situation with you and your abusive dad.

Barry clears his throat, trying to get off that subject, "Y/N and Harry are two adults, and if they'd like two date, who are we to-"

"Woah woah woah, all I did was call the guy cute, I'm not tryna date him.", you cut him off, unaware of how it got that far.

"Yeah well still, you're grown, do what you want.", Iris says, flashing her signature smile.

You wink back at her, before turning back to the team, "Umm, you guys wouldn't happen to know, where he is or anything would you?", you say with a sheepish smile.

"He's in my lab", Cisco says and he barely has time to finish as you walk out of the door.

"Hey! Don't fuck in my lab!", he calls after you, regretting telling you where Harry was.

When you make it to Cisco's lab, you walk in on Harry throwing something around. The usual.

"Something got you upset?", you call out making him jump slightly.

"Oh! Y/N, hello. Yes, it's this equation but I'm fine."

"Yes you are.", you mutter under your breath, causing Harry to turn around.

"What was that?"

"Oh nothing.", you respond in a sing-song voice.

He turns back towards the dry erase board, focused and unbothered by your presence.

You pretend to be interested in the stuff on Cisco's desks, making your way up to the older man.

When you grow quiet, he assumes that you've left the room, but when he turns around to check, you're right there in his face.

"Hi."

His eyebrows raise at the close proximity, but he doesn't back away, "...hi"

"I'm gonna come right out and say it", you start, raising one of your arms to wrap around his neck, the other following shortly, "I think you're sexy, Harry."

His eyebrows raise at your forwardness, looking at the arms that are wrapped around his neck and then back at you.

"Thank you?"

There's a beat of silence as you wait for him to return the compliment but when he doesn't, you pull your arms away asking, "What about me?

"What about you?"

Scoffing slightly, you say "Don't you think I'm pretty?"

He thinks it over, "I've had more important things on my mind if I'm honest," you can't help but feel offended, "but now that you bring it up, you are quite attractive."

You smile at his confession, knowing that's the closest thing you'll get to a compliment from him.

Unbeknownst to you, the team has been watching the entire interaction through the cameras.

“Ten bucks says Y/N traps him in less than a week.”, Iris says and Cisco immediately objects.

“Harry’s far too oblivious to date anyone.”

“Well lucky for him, the most forward person we know happens to be interested in him.”

[hanoella]

Deserving

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x healer!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: When someone bad mouths Bucky in your presence, you set things straight.

Warnings: Angst, but with happy ending, and one vaguely 18+ insult? I'm new.

Speaking of- @wkemeup has inspired me to post my writing for the first time! For their 9k writing challenge, I used this prompt:

"Character A is the target of harassment on the street. Shamed, they pretend it doesn’t bother them. Until it happens in the presence of Character B, who reigns hell on whoever dared to upset [A]"

Enjoy!

..........

Bucky was used to the whispers he got from people the street when he passed by them.

“Is that-?”

“Don’t make eye contact, he’s dangerous.”

“They just let him walk around like he hasn’t killed a bunch of people?”

His enhanced hearing picked up more than he wished it did. He liked to believe it didn’t bother him but deep down it did. It was just one more reason to stay secluded. Isolated. Alone. And he had been successfully doing that.

Until you came along.

Having been the test subject of a super serum version that focused on health and regeneration, you used your healing powers to help the Avengers get back to world-saving shape. Bucky hadn’t been keen on anyone touching him, much less someone he didn’t know. Despite his best efforts, he had caved in when you noticed he was having a bad day with his shoulder and offered to help. Since then, your companionship has been like a guilty pleasure.

You had this way of making him feel like he was the most important person in the world to you. Regardless of what he thought was evident, you only seemed to notice the good in him, even when he protested.

“There’s nothing I can do to right the wrongs that I’ve committed. Redemption isn’t possible. I don’t deserve-”

“Stop.” You said, cutting him off. “You are amazing. You have been through everything that you’ve been through and you still give back to the world. You fight for a world that made you this way, a world that gives you nothing back and yet you fight. It’s the world that doesn’t deserve you.”

Bucky swallowed hard. Looking at you in your eyes, he saw no dishonesty. Only pure admiration.

After that, there was no hope of him being alone. You cracked open his shell slowly but surely and now Bucky couldn’t imagine life without you.

Which led him to his current predicament.

“Come on, please? It’ll be so good and only a few blocks away. I know tapioca sounds gross, but you’ll love it!”

Bucky didn’t know what bubble tea was but apparently it was worth begging him for the past 20 minutes while you worked on his shoulder. Your hands emitted a warm white light as you gently massaged his shoulder. The direct contact wasn’t necessary but Bucky hadn’t complained when you started doing it and it’s become routine every since.

“I don’t know. I know I’m old but I don’t have to resort to tapioca yet.”

Bucky let a moment pass before his lip twitched up into a smile. You feigned annoyance as you cut off the healing and placed your hands on his shoulders.

“How about you go with me and I won’t bill the heck out of you for my magical five-star massages.” You say as you squeeze his shoulders.

“Okay okay, fine.”

Bucky put his hands up in defeat as he got up from the couch he was sitting on and turned to face you.

You swallowed as you let your eyes drift across his chest before you grabbed his shirt from off the back of the couch and tossed it to him.

“Alright! I’m so excited!”

Bucky listened to you chatter on about the different flavors he could try while he put on his shirt. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe he actually had a friend besides Steve. Sure, it helped that you had been Steve’s friend first. But there was something about you having grown closer to him that made him feel special. Never did Bucky think there would be a time that he’d be jealous over a girl that Steve was friends with rather than the other way around. Times were certainly different.

“You coming?”

Bucky broke away from his thoughts and made his way towards the doorway that you were standing in.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

---

Yeah, he knew this was a bad idea.

As soon as you two had left Stark Tower, the whispers started. While the café was only two blocks away, you noticed something was off a block into the trip.

“You alright?” You asked as you tried to decipher his facial expression.

“Yeah. Fine.”

You looked at him skeptically and then shifted your eyes to follow his, glancing around you. You slowly nodded in understanding as you looked at the people around you who were trying not to draw attention to themselves.

“Okay. We can talk about it later.”

Bucky was thankful that most people talked quietly enough so that you couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Keyword: Most.

You two arrived at the café, where it was slightly crowded. It was a warm afternoon, the perfect time to get a cool drink. Before heading inside, you gently placed your hand on his arm for a moment to reassure him.

“If you want, we could look at the menu out here and then I’ll go inside to order it.”

Bucky shifted his weight slightly from one side to the other as he contemplated it.

“Nah. We can go in together.”

“Okay.” you said, gently smiling to hopefully reassure him.

You both enter the building and make your way to stand in line. Bucky looked around at the seating areas. It reminded him of a Starbucks but with a more pastel color scheme. You looked at him and he raised an eyebrow in response. You smiled, happy that he was with you. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat and he smiled back.

That’s when you hear it.

“Is that that Hydra goon? Hey, go back to Siberia you brainwashed Hydra dog!”

You spun around violently the same time Bucky did with an incredulous look on your face, making eye contact with the college aged boy further back in line who was currently sniggering with his friends.

You stalked over to them before speaking in a low even tone.

“Sergeant Barnes has done more for the world than you could ever dream of doing. Apologize.”

You had let the venom creep into your voice, shouting the last word and silencing the rest of the line. Bucky walked up to you and put a hand on your shoulder, trying to turn your attention to him.

“C’mon. It’s not worth it.”

You let out a slow harsh exhale from your nose but didn’t move. The man only sneered.

“Why don’t you scurry along. I don’t care if you’re where he sticks his-”

The next thing Bucky registered was a nasty sounding crack as your fist connected with the jerk’s cheekbone. A round of gasps came from the surrounding crowd as he fell on the floor, completely dazed. You let out a pained grunt as you bent over, holding your hand while trying to cover the white light that started coming over your hand where the skin had bust open and something had definitely cracked.

“Okay, time to go.” Bucky said as he made an executive decision to get you two the heck out of there before anybody could react further. He put his hand on your back and quickly guided you out of the store, walking until you were out of the vicinity and almost back to the tower. You could tell that Bucky was not happy with you since he hadn’t said anything the whole way back. You entered the building and then stood silently in the elevator as it made its way up, refusing to meet his eye.

The elevator dinged as it opened up on the team’s dorm floor. You both walked quickly trying to avoid other people unsuccessfully as Sam stepped out into the hallway from the gym.

“Hey you two, what’re you… What happened to you?” He asked with a furrowed brow, nodding his head towards your hand as you walked past. Bucky and you answered at the same time.

“Nothing-”

“None of your business Sam-”

You gave Bucky a look and started chastising him.

“Hey, don’t be mean to him just because-”

“Keep. Walking.” He said through clenched teeth.

You rolled you eyes and shrugged apologetically at Sam as Bucky punched in the code to your apartment and swung the door open. He nudged you inside and then followed, shutting the door forcefully behind him.

Sam looked down the hall for a moment longer before shrugging it off. Natasha popped her head out into the hallway from the gym.

“What’s all the commotion?”

“Not sure. I think Mr. Tall, Dark and Metal left a few brain cells behind in the pod the last time he was frozen.”

Natasha snorted and then turned back into the gym.

---

Bucky closed the door behind him and then swung his arms out in confusion, giving you the same look of disbelief that he gives Yori when he starts a fight with his neighbors. You gave him the same look back, as if he was crazy for questioning your actions.

“What was that?” He finally asked.

“That guy was crazy! How could I not say something to him?”

“You didn’t have to hit him and hurt yourself! People say stuff like that all the time, you just have to ignore it and move on with your day.”

You stayed silent for a moment, averting your gaze and holding your injured hand that was gently glowing. Bucky gently let out his breath. He closed the distance between you and put his hand under yours to help you support it. His other hand grasped your forearm, gently moving over your smooth skin. He glanced down and watched as the inflammation went away and a bone shifted back into place under your skin.

“Please,” He whispered, his hold on you tightening ever so slightly. “It’s not worth all the trouble. It’s not worth you getting hurt.”

“No.”

Bucky snapped his head back up to see you calm and determined. Speaking again, you look into his eyes.

“It is worth it.”

He blinked twice, not having expected that answer.

“Why?”

“Because if I had let him say what he was going to say. Then to me, it would be validating anyone who has ever said anything like that about you. I can’t let you believe that any of that is true.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“But you do.” You cried out, slipping your newly healed hand out of his grasp and stepping away.

“I can see it in your actions, Bucky. I see it when you deny yourself anything that would make you happy. I see it when you try to hide yourself from the world. I see it when you look at me.” You spoke, voice wavering with the last sentence, averting your gaze again. Bucky stood silent as you continued.

“I see a deep sadness in your eyes. I can feel it in your soul when I heal your shoulder. Or when you touch my hand to see if I’ve fallen asleep. I can feel it emanating off of you. But I know for a fact that you deserve to be happy. You deserve to rest and to be happy. How many times have you fought a fight that wasn’t yours because it was the right thing to do? And don’t say it was to redeem yourself because I know it’s more than that. You are a good man, James. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. But if you need to prove it to yourself than just take a look at me.”

You gently hold his face and guide it so that he’s looking at you. He’s surprised to find your eyes full of tears, threatening to spill over.

“When you look into my eyes, there is nothing but love and admiration for you. When you touch me, I feel the warmth you leave on my skin. When you hear me speak, you should be able to tell from what I say that I genuinely think you deserve the world. When you are hurting, the only thing I feel is your anguish. It kills me, to see you punish yourself so undeservedly.”

You were whispering now, looking up at him. Bucky’s eyes were watering as well, his jaw clenched in an attempt to hold back his emotions. With your hands still gently caressing his cheeks he slowly lowered his head so that his forehead was resting on yours, swallowing hard.

Bucky lifted his head slightly so that he could look at you and he saw nothing but love. Your eyelashes were wet and shimmering from tears you shed for him. Your cheeks were flushed from the overwhelming feeling that you had for him. He looked into the depths of your eyes and saw only his future with you. Finally, his gaze settles on your lips, soft and supple.

“Please,” you begged. “Please do not ask me to stand idly by as the world tears you apart. You are worth more to me than anything else in it.”

Slowly, his hands touch your waist and slide back until he’s holding you against him. Closing the gap between you, you kiss.

Nothing more in this world could assure him of your love. For once, he believes it.

[luminnara]

Victor Zsasz x Reader NSFW | 18+

Fandom: Birds of Prey/DC

I don’t see nearly enough BOP!Zsasz appreciation here, so I’m determined to change that. Reader is fem, but if there’s interest I can definitely write stuff for male or nb! The reader also has a whole backstory because I’m way more into world and character building than I am reader inserts so this is practically a little OC fic lol

This is sort of set pre-Birds of Prey, don’t worry about it too much, it’s just fun

Warnings: Violence, Zsasz being Zsasz, reader is an assassin who unalives people, light smut

This is short because I’m testing the waters! If there’s interest, I’ll write a part 2!!

Requests are open!

When Roman announced that he was hiring a new girl, Victor was less than thrilled. He liked what they had going--Roman was the money and the brains, and Victor was the muscle, the devout follower, and the one who loved to spill blood. They didn’t need anybody else, especially not a new hitman, and especially not a girl.

You had grown up in Gotham City’s East End, a district that was infamous for harboring all sorts of crime. You knew every street, every dark alley, every burnt out shell of a once-great building. The East End was a far cry from Gotham’s nicer neighborhoods, with their shining skyscrapers and big fancy department stores, but what could you say? The East End was home. It was dark and gritty and dangerous, but you loved that about it. 

Besides, it’s not like you could really go anywhere else. 

You had developed quite a reputation for yourself over the past few years. Places like the East End have a tendency to breed criminals, and you were no exception--as soon as you left home, you followed right in your mother’s footsteps and became a gun for hire. Thanks to your family name, you had no trouble taking on the odd merc job here and there, working for mob bosses who didn’t mind the mess you tended to leave behind. Silent, sneaky kills weren’t really your thing, but you never really got into the whole...artistic thing that a lot of other killers did. You didn’t sit there and fuck around with the blood and guts, you just...weren’t very tidy. You were quick, but you weren’t clean. If somebody wanted their enemies taken out quietly, they knew not to even look in your direction, because you were not the girl for the job. 

If somebody wanted to make a statement, though...

You were more than happy to crush some skulls and splatter some blood across the sidewalk for the right price. 

Of course, so much killing got to be exhausting after a while, and even brutal assassins like yourself needed to relax every so often. So, that’s how you found yourself finishing up a job and heading back to your modest little apartment, hopping in the shower, and scrubbing all the blood and dirt off your skin as if you had just spent a long day at the office. It was all normal for you--the killing, the shady bosses, the weirdos you worked with--and you treated it the same way any of those prim and proper office people in Old Gotham treated their day jobs. It was a way to make ends meet, something to pay for groceries and take care of the bills...only, in your case, you were generally paid fully in cash, and sometimes that cash had some suspicious stains on it. 

But hey, work was work, right?

That night, you headed to a club you had yet to check out. Done up in a little black dress and wearing some very expensive pearls you had nabbed off of a target a few months back, you took a cab and found yourself entering The Black Mask.

It was a nice spot, the booths and bar all packed with socialites and crime lords. Waitresses and shot girls flitted around, there was a band playing on the stage, and the atmosphere seemed to be cheerful. Honestly, it wasn’t what you had expected, given what you’d heard about its owner.

Roman Sionis was a businessman, as he liked to call himself, who had been steadily growing his empire. He practically owned the entire East End now, and word on the street was he was looking to expand further into the rest of Gotham. You had never met the man, but you had enough mutual connections that Roman knew exactly who you were the moment he spotted you at the bar.

“Zsasz, go get her,” he said, gesturing towards you with a gloved hand.

Zsasz followed his gaze and tilted his head slightly. “You got it, boss.”

You were minding your own business, ordering yourself a gin and tonic and elbowing drunk men out of your way as you carved a little spot for yourself at the bar. They were rambunctious, leaning towards you with wide grins and beady eyes that told you they were hoping to get lucky tonight.

As you were getting ready to throw another elbow, the men suddenly scattered, vanishing into the crowd as if something had scared them off. The bartender set your drink down in front of you, and just as you raised the glass to your lips, the scent of musky cologne filled your nose and you looked up to see none other than the notorious Victor Zsasz standing before you.

“Boss wants to talk with you.” He said simply, his voice rough and hoarse.

But you were too busy taking in his facial features to really listen to his words. His short hair was the lightest blonde you had ever seen, almost snowy in color, a stark contrast to the black stubble that covered his jaw. He was wearing a silky dress shirt the color of red wine, or dark blood, the kind that was thick and coagulated and dripped off of knives so beautifully.

As he stared right back at you, you saw the scars that cut into his face, straight, meticulously carved lines that you were sure he had given himself. After all, just as you did, Victor Zsasz had a reputation, and while you had never met him, you had heard plenty about the sadistic assassin who kept tally marks of all of his victims.

Part of you wondered just how many he had.

You took a sip of your drink, eyes never leaving his. “I only just got here. I haven’t even paid for my drink.”

“On the house, courtesy of Mr. Sionis.” Zsasz said, regarding you with heavily lidded eyes as he looked down at you.

Just as you knew of him, he knew of you. Even though he was pretty much locked in place with Roman now, Zsasz heard plenty about everyone else in the East End. You practically ran in the same circles, and he had to admit, he was a tiny bit curious about the lady assassin everyone was raving about. He almost admired the messiness of your kills, but he also thought that you were sloppy and too quick, never taking the time to truly appreciate what you were doing.

Now, as he glanced down at the swell of your tits as they practically spilled out of your dress, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill you, or fuck you, or both.

“It’s rude to stare, Mr. Zsasz.” You teased as you caught him.

“It’s rude to keep the boss waiting.” He shot right back.

“Fine.” you sighed, pushing away from the bar. “Lead the way.”

He offered his hand and you took it, holding onto him gingerly. The crowd parted for Zsasz in a way that they never would for you, smoothly and easily, club patrons giving him polite, frightened nods as he pulled you past. His grip on your hand was tight and harsh, squeezing as if you might try to run, but in all honesty, you were marveling at how warm his skin was around yours. You didn’t hate the way he led you over to his employer, and you knew that he was being gentle, or at least his version of it. 

When he brought you before Roman Sionis, he immediately let go of you, moving to stand next to his boss. Roman himself was sitting in a booth, sinking into the lavish red velvet upholstery as he held a drink in his gloved hand. He regarded you with a calm smile, immediately gesturing for you to take a set across from him. 

So you did, and the rest was history.

Roman Sionis had heard of you, and when he realized that you lived in the East End, in his East End, he had to have you. He had to own you. So, he did what he always did with people, and he bought you. All you had to do was complete one little, simple job for him, and he would keep you around on a regular salary, giving you all the benefits of joining his tiny little family. You passed his test with flying colors, taking out your target faster than Roman could have hoped for, and the next thing you knew, you were spending your days lurking around Roman’s penthouse. 

You stayed quiet and obedient, not wanting to give Roman any reason to get rid of you. It was a good, steady gig, one you didn’t want to pass up, but you could tell that Zsasz wasn’t pleased. He scowled at you, always waiting for you to trip, always ready to watch you fall. You got the feeling that he viewed you as an intruder, someone who was messing up his life even though you gave him more than enough space. He would raise his lip in a sneer whenever you passed, showing off gold teeth in a maddeningly handsome way that always had you hoping and praying that he wouldn’t notice the way your cheeks sometimes flushed. He never seemed to care, as he never made any other moves. Maybe he was under strict orders not to fuck with--or just plain fuck---you, or maybe he legitimately didn’t want to. 

You didn’t know why you had started to care so much. 

You didn’t know about the way he watched your ass when you walked away from him, or the lewd way he sometimes palmed himself right out in the open. You never heard his pants and moans as he got off to the thought of you wrapped around him, and you never got to hear your name rolling off his tongue as he spilled into his hand, hips rocking of their own accord. 

Yeah, Zsasz was pretty much head over heels. He was fucked. 

He didn’t know why he liked you so much. There was just something about you, something about the way you walked and talked that always made his cock hard. He had reached the point where you would enter a room, and his pants would grow tight. Did you even know? Could you possibly fathom the torture you were putting him through every single day in Roman’s penthouse? Zsasz wanted to grab you and bend you over something, anything, hike that cute little skirt up and just go to town on your cunt. He dreamed about it at night, he wanted it, he craved the taste of your pussy...

But he couldn’t have it. 

Not yet. 

He would wait. He could be patient. After all, Roman came first. Roman always came first. Zsasz needed to focus on keeping his boss calm and happy, and he couldn’t afford to get distracted, no matter how much he wanted to press you up against the windows and fuck you so that the entire East End could see who you belonged to. 

No matter how badly he wanted it, Zsasz would wait. 

[faulty-writes]

Warning: Mentions of Anxiety, Panic Attack.

Fandom: My Hero Academia 

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x ClassB!Student 

[ Alright, so life has been a tad crazy for me lately. My anxiety has been pretty much all over the place. I get a little angry that anxiety isn’t taken more seriously and is simply looked at as something “everyone has” which is both true and false. Regardless, I love soft Bakugou, and though this originally started as a simple drabble project. It turned into this, so I hope you enjoy and remember, your feelings are valid! Bakugou will tell you that himself if you choose to read. ] 

[ After a hard day of school, your anxiety is triggered, and though Class A and B had planned a hangout session. You regrettably can’t make it, as your panic attack happens, Katsuki Bakugou is told to check on you. What follows might hint that he has more of a soft spot than you originally thought. ] 

Katsuki wasn't the best at comforting others, in fact when he realized you were having a panic attack. He almost wanted to leave, almost. But, the way you latched onto him. Begging him to stay, he couldn’t ignore your obvious cry for help. Maybe it was due to the fact his heroic side couldn’t deny knowing someone was in pain, and if there was something he could do to fix it, he would. But, that didn’t stop him from letting out a frustrated sigh. "Fine! I'll stay...damn it," he growled the words before taking a seat on your bed.

You turned to look at him, you were a fellow hero though you were placed in Class B. It wasn’t unusual for Class A and B to spend time in one another’s dormitory. In this case, Class A had suggested a hang out date. Nothing too fancy, and the students of your class seemed to enjoy the idea with the compromise that it be held in the Class B dormitory. There was little objection and things went as planned, unfortunately, it seemed your anxiety was bothering you. Your day hadn’t gone right and by the time you returned home from class, your head was spinning.

Memories from the past came to haunt you as well as your own negative thoughts, which seemed to drag you down enough to the point where you lied to your fellow classmates. You had told them you simply weren’t feeling well and that you’d join in on the fun next time, in all truth, you walked straight to your bedroom and hid under the covers. Your face buried in your pillow as your breathing became more rapid and that fear, that certain panic that came along with the anxiety attack increased. Which left you feeling helpless for the moment, soft whimpers escaped as tears began to trail down your cheeks.

Though you knew of certain breathing exercises that claimed to calm anxiety, you found that nothing truly worked and often just let the panic attack run its course. But, as it were, your classmates and fellow students seemed to care more about your well-being than you thought. Which in a way made you feel better, however, you hadn’t expected Katsuki Bakugou to knock on your door. You nearly screamed when the knock sounded, followed by his usual commanding and angry voice. Part of you wasn’t surprised that Neito had a dislike toward Class A, as you found their class to be filled with a little too much personality.

But, nonetheless, you found yourself getting out of bed. Your face still wet from your tears and you attempted to dry them with the use of your blanket, “Open the door, dumbass!” Katsuki snapped and you let out a groan, but you knew Katsuki was more or less known for his impatience and anger. When you finally opened the door, you took note of the casual outfit the angry blond wore. A simple black shirt and loose-fitting sweatpants. He wore no shoes or socks and had his arms crossed with an annoyed expression on his face.

“The rest of the extras wanna know if you’re alright. Not that I give a damn,” he said, which you assumed was his version of inquiring something nicely. You pressed your lips together, originally wanting to lie to the fellow first-year. But, as soon as you tried to speak, a soft whimper came and you immediately clasped your hands over your mouth. Katsuki raised his eyebrow, “The hell was that?!” he demanded, bringing his arms down to his sides where his hands curled into fists.

His eyes were narrowed as if he were trying to see through you, however you, on the other hand, shook your head and went to grab the door handle. “N-Nothing! I-I’m fine, Bakugou just-” before you could finish your sentence, you let out a cry and covered your eyes. Katsuki didn’t hesitate to use his quirk, his hand was firmly pressed against the door and smoke seeped from underneath his palm. You groaned and rubbed your eyes before looking back at him, that quirk of his created some bright explosions.

“Shut the hell up! Do you think you can lie to me like that and I won’t notice?! I’m not a dumbass like the rest of these extras! You can fool them, but you can’t fool me! Damn it!” he snapped as he stepped into your room, completely ignoring the fact he wasn’t even invited in. He then slammed the door behind him, which caused you to jump. You were almost tempted to run and try to open the door again, but Katsuki was already cornering you. A cry left your lips when you hit your bed and fell onto it, quickly you sat up and gave Katsuki the best glare you could muster.

“W-What are you doing?!” you squeaked out, bringing your hands up to your chest. You were already scared because of the anxiety, but with Katsuki’s actions added on top of that? Your body was trembling and your eyes threatened to spill more tears. You watched as Katsuki’s angry expression faded, maybe tears were his weakness. Either way, the fact that he was able to see through your lie was a tad impressive.

“Pff, fine. I’ll just leave, you’re fine even though you’re lying. Not my damned problem!” he said before he turned his back to you. “W-Wait!” you hadn’t meant to cry out, nor did you mean to suddenly jump up and grab the back of his shirt. “Eh?!” he turned his head to look over his shoulder at you, it was clear he was annoyed by your sudden antics. You ignored his stare and glanced down, loosening your grip on his shirt.

“P-Please don’t go.” the words came out of your mouth in a hushed whisper, but Katsuki heard you well enough. Which is what led you to sit next to each other on the bed, you sniffled before leaning forward. Burying your face into Katsuki’s shoulder which caused a surprised gasp to leave him and he could feel your tear-stained cheeks soaking into the fabric of his shirt. His jaw tightened, he almost wanted to scream. But, when you muttered the words, "I...feel...scared," his expression dropped.

"Mm…well we're all scared, part of being a hero is pushing past your damn fears and being courageous but…" his hands curled in his lap and the sound of your hard breathing echoed through the room. He groaned and lifted his arms, wrapping each one around you with the intended hope it'd calm your breathing. Such action took you by surprise and you lifted your head, looking at Katsuki with wide eyes. His lips were turned up, and a pink hue colored his cheeks. His eyebrow twitched before he tilted his head, focusing his attention to the floor.

Then, he spoke, "You know, your feelings, whatever you call'em...Well I guess they are valid so, uh, don't be afraid to tell anyone when your anxiety is bothering you.'' he said, more like growled before he lifted his head up. His eyes narrowed on you, though you could see your own sad and unsure reflection in those red pupils. "If they ignore or just plain act like they don’t care, well I'd love to kick their ass, but overall, well maybe it just shows how ignorant they are," he said as he glanced to the side, you noticed his cheeks were growing darker in color.

Frankly, you were shocked that Katsuki even cared, you had expected him to push you away. Maybe use his quirk to keep you at bay, instead, you were treated with comfort and concern. Maybe Katsuki truly had a soft spot for others, at least you hoped. It certainly seemed that way, you sniffled before bringing your hands up. Your fingers lightly curled into his shoulder and you noticed the dark spot on his shirt where you had previously buried your head, you knew your cheeks were still wet. Katsuki shyly glanced back over, his eyes widening as he saw a faint smile come to your face.

He looked lost a moment before he growled, "What the hell are you smiling for?!" he demanded, almost as if he weren't used to such a positive response in regards to his presence. "D-Don’t think I'm soft or anything! I...I just wouldn't make fun of someone who has…well anxiety, a mental disorder, whatever the hell you wanna call it!" he snapped before looking away once more, his arms slightly trembling. "I…I'd never do that to you...I can't say the same thing about shitty extras though. You always hear the same thing from them, it doesn't matter how you feel because everyone has anxiety, sure.” he couldn’t help but roll his eyes, his teeth scraping together before he continued.

“Maybe everyone experiences it, but some have it worse than others and, well, it's not something that…should be ignored," he muttered the last few words, feeling his stomach twist and the nervous flapping of butterfly wings come. His eyebrow twitched and he squirmed at the unusual feeling, "Bakugou…are you-" he cut off your sentence with an absurd, "I'm fine...d-dumbass!" his voice was soft but, there was some uncertainty to it. He took a deep breath before retracting his arms from around you, something that made you miss his warmth. But, you were quickly distracted as you watched him rise from the bed.

His back was to you, which you found a little rude. Why would he suddenly get up like that? Unknown to you, Katsuki had a hand pressed to his chest. The other was at his side and his fingers were loosely pressing into his palm. He couldn’t make sense of the harsh fast-paced echo of his heartbeat, which he felt against the center of his palm. His jaw was clenched, confused at his own reaction. Regardless, he lowered his hand and curled both of them into tight fists. You took note of how those fists trembled and though you wanted to say something, you decided against it.

"A common problem shouldn't be ignored," Katsuki's sudden words caught you off-guard, "What?" you questioned, leaning the upper half of your body forward. Your hand outstretched and though, you should have expected it. You gasped when Katsuki suddenly spun around to face you, his hand took yours with a firm grip. You looked at him for a split second before he jerked his arm back, the force of which pulled you up from the bed. You stumbled over your feet but Katsuki welcomed your presence as you collided with his chest. His arm came to wrap around your shoulders and he pulled you close.

"U-Uh…" you could feel your face heat up as you realized you were trapped. Nuzzled against Katsuki's chest, the faint hint of sweat mixed with cedar reached your nose and caused your nostrils to twitch. Your anxiety under control for the moment as it was now replaced with what you could only classify as the best nervous feeling someone could have. You shivered when he buried his face into the crook of your neck, the soft touch of his lips brushed against your skin. "A common problem shouldn't be ignored," he repeated, his voice slightly muffled.

"We should address it because of the fact it's a common problem, but some fuckers…like to be damn ignorant about it!" he hissed and his arm tightened around you as if you weren't already as physically close as you could be with him. You could feel his hot breath against your skin as he let out another sigh and proceeded to lean back, releasing his hold on your hand. “Look,” he began, his eyes narrowing on you once more which was slightly intimidating. Still, you couldn’t seem to tear your gaze away from him. You stiffened when you felt his hands grab your shoulders and a smirk came to his face.

You assumed he was happy that he had captured your attention, his expression turned into something more serious just before he spoke, “Since I’m the only one that sees through those pathetic lies of yours, even if...we’re not in the same class...you can come to me whenever you feel like you need to.” he said, his words ending with a growl. “That’s not an invitation to come bother me whenever you feel like it!” you almost wanted to roll your eyes, why did he feel the need to clarify that? “Hey, look at me when I’m talking, damn it!” you hadn’t realized you had looked away, maybe you were too lost in your own thoughts.

Still, you turned your attention back on him as he requested, his eyes were slit and his eyebrows knit together. “What the hell was I saying...dumbass making me lose track…” he muttered and turned his head, his eyes drifting back and forth before he remembered. “If you have a panic attack or feel anxiety, whatever you wanna call it. Come find me and well, I’ll do the best I can, guess that’s all a hero can do. I’ll kick the ass of the person that made you feel that way...if there is a person that made you feel that way... the point is! Don’t go lying and make yourself believe your feelings are invalid! That’s not how emotions work, damn it. Your feelings are always valid!” he snapped before dropping his hands.

He groaned and reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. You noticed his cheeks were tinted pink again, was he embarrassed? That was almost amusing, but you latched onto your lip to prevent yourself from laughing. “Just...remember that!” he snapped again, which caused you to jump and lean back, “Uh...yeah! I’ll...keep that in mind,” you said sheepishly before turning to look at your bed, the sheets were a mess and the pillows were carelessly tossed around. Still, you sighed and proceeded to sit back down which earned you a strange look from Katsuki.

“What are you doing?” he questioned as he crossed his arms, you had the feeling he was trying to shake off whatever embarrassment he felt. You shrugged, “Sitting?” you responded before taking a breath, “Look Bakugou...thank you for...comforting me, that was really nice of you. Heroic even, I know we’re supposed to be heroes and we mainly look out for others. But, it's nice to know I have someone like you that looks out for me when I need it. I appreciate that.” you said, snickering as Katsuki’s eyebrows went up. Clearly, he was surprised to hear such a thing coming from you. He looked down, covering his mouth a brief moment before clearing his throat.

“Yeah well…” it was almost amusing to see him struggle with his words, “Y-You’re...welcome,” he responded, and once more you were reminded he wasn’t used to such positivity. You brought your hands together, your elbows rested against your thighs. “So...are you going to go back?” you questioned, “Hm?” Katsuki tilted his head, almost as if he didn’t understand the question, “To the hangout, I mean aren’t Kirishima and Denki waiting for you?” you questioned as you pointed a lazy finger toward your door. “Ah.” Katsuki’s posture stiffened as he thought about his idiot friends.

Yeah, they were waiting for him and if he didn’t leave soon, they’d track him down like they were the guidance counselor, Hound Dog. “Pff...yeah, they’ll probably come looking for me, so what?!” they were annoying, but not a threat. “So, don’t you want to, you know…” you trailed off, somehow you got the feeling Katsuki didn’t want to leave. “I’m alright now, you said it yourself. I can always come to you when something like this happens again,” you assured him as you once more rose from the bed and hesitantly reached over to place your hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe I’ll come out later just, I want some time to fully calm down.” that borderline feeling of fear still coursed through you and though Katsuki had helped ease most of it. Maybe you could finally try those breathing exercises to completely calm yourself. Katsuki faintly growled as you guided him to the door and opened it, you took note that the wood still had a dark burn mark thanks to his quirk. It would be interesting trying to explain that to your teacher, but for the moment it wasn’t a big concern for you. Katsuki stared down the hallway before turning back to you, he reached over and lightly grabbed your shirt collar.

“You better show your face later! Damn it or I’ll come back here and-” before he could finish, you nodded and pushed against his chest. “Yes! I’ll be out later, I promise. Thank you for your help Bakugou.” you said as you gently shoved him out the door and closed it. Pressing your back against it, you tried to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

Nothing like this had ever happened to you before, usually, you suffered alone in your own division with your anxiety. But, could this have opened an opportunity for you to actually open up about it and to Katsuki Bakugou of all people? You weren't sure how you felt about it, but one thing was for sure. You felt happy that someone finally seemed to understand the way your anxiety made you feel and even more so, tried to make you feel better.

[rainbowbutterfrosting]

The Revived - Chapter 3: First Experiences

This is chapter 3 of the dream smp fic @dramaticsnakes and I are writing. Thank you to @r0w3n-1n-d0ugh for beta-reading this chapter!

AO3

Read in order (on Tumblr)

Characters in this chapter: Wilbur, Ghostbur, Tubbo, and Ranboo

Word count: 3,137

Cw:  yelling, stress, near-death experience, recklessness, pain, burns, begging, crying, cursing, tension between characters

Fic summary: Wilbur was alive, and it was such a magnificent feeling, that made his mind spark with anticipation. It didn’t take long, however, for Wilbur to realize that this new breath of life, was not just his own. An echo-y voice hides in the back of his mind, and before he knows it, the transparent version of him he saw at the endless train station, is a lot more ingrained than he’d expected him to be.

And Wilbur really shouldn’t care. Because he’d be damned, if he spent the life he’d awaited for so long, babysitting a lost cause of a ghost, stuck in the very same limbo Wilbur spent so long in. It was an even exchange, and one Wilbur wasn’t going to mess with. Why exactly he ends up setting out to get the ghost out of his mind, in order to save the both of them, however, is beyond him. And perhaps Wilbur’s past isn’t as easy to leave behind, as he’d hoped it would be.

The netherrack was a harsh change of scenery compared to the white snow from before. The heat felt unbearable immediately, the fire nearby not helping the problem. He took off his fingerless gloves, sticking them inside his pocket, rolling up his sleeves, despite it giving little relief. The portal seemed to screech at him, but the moment that he covered his ears from it, Ghostbur was screaming at him instead.

“Wilbur… I forgot your middle and last name, but I’m being super serious when I ask, what have you done?! Techno was supposed to be our friend! I mean he was already mine, but- oh no no no,” Ghostbur’s voice grew more worried, “I don’t think you’ve understood what you’ve done.”

Wilbur was glad for the lack of company, so he could respond without the embarrassment of talking to himself, “Ghostbur, he doesn’t understand what he’s done! He insulted everything, everything I’ve put my life towards, as if he’s so much better than me for the lack of purpose he has.” Wilbur walked towards the cobblestone path in front of him. He’d probably taken this path before, but he couldn’t care about the possible nostalgia of it at the moment. “Maybe he is better, because he’s nice! Nice people are good and he was good. He was just trying to be your friend, and you should be nice in return because that’s what friends do.” Ghostbur’s voice quivered, sounding like he was on the verge of crying.

Wilbur laughed, “Some friend he is. He just thinks I’m a reckless idiot that lives to blow shit up!” As the cobblestone path thinned into one block instead of three, he walked slower, putting his arms out for extra support.

“You are acting like a reckless- a- well you know the word! And please stop cursing. It makes you sound upset.”

“Oh. My. Fucking. Prime . If I sound happy, Ghostbur, it’s because I am happy. If I, oh my, for some reason sound upset- why fuck me with a chainsaw! It’s because I’m a little upset!” Wilbur’s words bled into Ghostbur’s mind with their playful tone yet threatening meaning.

“But- why would you be upset? Techie was trying to help! He even said he wanted to build a house with you. That’s what friends do together.”

“Ghostbur, I don’t know how much you misunderstood, but Technoblade is not my friend. And he will never be my friend. His only friend is whatever gives him the upper hand!” The cobblestone path turned at a ninety-degree angle and Wilbur turned with it.

“Wilby, that’s-”

Anything Ghostbur would have said was cut off by a ghast crying, which took both of them by surprise.

“Was that a cat?”

Wilbur whispered, “No.”

“Well, it sounded like a cat.”

Wilbur was about to groan but only managed a strained noise, as a shiver was sent down his spine. He watched the ghast in the distance, and despite everything, he felt just a little exposed, standing there in the fiery heat.

“Well, as I was saying-”

“Please for the love of Prime, be quiet .” Wilbur hissed, trying to keep his voice as low as possible. Not low enough it seemed, because before he knew it, something shot towards him at an impressive pace, and it was time to do something, that Wilbur was no stranger to.

He bolted ahead on the cobblestone path, hearing the ghast scream among the sound of burning flames.

His heart was beating rapidly, and while panic set in, there was a small part of him, that felt so irresistibly alive . His heart served as a reminder, that nothing was going to stand in his way now.

“Why aren’t you saying anything? Are you scared of cats?” Ghostbur said, his voice tinted with a certain frustration, though there was a hint of concern as well, “Listen, Wilbur, it’s okay to be scared of some things, but cats don’t hurt you, unless you hurt them first. So as long as you just walk past peacefully, or go pet it-”

“For the last time, it’s not a fucking-” Wilbur was cut off, by ghast shooting at him once more, just barely missing him as he jumped, falling on the cobblestone path. Scraping his hands and arms slightly, he managed to push himself up from the ground. Wilbur made the observation, that pain somehow felt different in the world of the living. It sent a rush of adrenaline through him, and prime he hadn’t felt adrenaline in so long. With a slight confident smile, he knew probably shouldn’t be present, he kept running straight ahead.

“What’s going on?” Ghostbur demanded, “Where are you right now? Oh my, you might not be going in the right direction. What do you see right now?”

Wilbur looked around frantically, unable to see any recognizable landmarks among the red and the ghast screams, echoing in his ears. He ran a bit further. “Okay okay, there’s a fork in the road right here.” he said, looking at the paths ahead of him, catching his breath, “What do I do?”

“Who would leave a fork in the road?” Ghostbur exclaimed, outraged, “That’s so dangerous!”

Wilbur’s eyes widened with frustration, as he heard the screams behind him. He looked around, breathing faster. “What do I do!?” he shouted.

“Pick the fork up, obviously!” Ghostbur shouted back, “And why are we shouting now? We were whispering before! What’s going on?”

“Oh for crying out loud! Left or right Ghostbur?” Wilbur said quickly.

“Uh, again, it depends on where you are, but Tubbo and Ranboo’s place is to the left, I think,” Ghostbur tried.

“Right,” Wilbur whispered, rushing to the left, the ghast following his every step.

“I said left!”

Wilbur would have thought of a comeback, but he was running too fast to think of anything other than the heavy pounding of his boots against the floor. Adrenaline and blood pumped through his body, and he was going to make it! He was always going to make it because Wilbur was alive, and nothing was going to stand in his way! There were no longer walls to claw at, or trains with closed doors, and tracks as far as the eye could see. He’d like to see the world try to stop him. It hadn’t stopped him before, because he was back, and he was alive, alive, alive and-

He watched as he was being shot at once more, and he stumbled as he tried to duck it, he landed on the hot ground, his chin bashing into the fire, looming dangerously. It burned into his skin, like what he’d imagined hell to be before he saw it. Wilbur pushed himself up, feeling his cauterized skin, mocking each movement. He hissed, but the sound was immediately drowned out by familiar cries, that didn’t make any sense.

Ghostbur was screaming, no longer in anger, but in undeniable pain. “What’s happening to me?” he cried.

“Ghost- fuck,” Wilbur grimaced through the pain. He had tears in his eyes that mimicked the sound of Ghostbur’s sobs.

“Please, please-” Ghostbur’s cries were louder than the Ghast’s shrieks, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I did wrong, I’m sorry Wilbur.”

“Doesn’t,” Wilbur kept on sprinting, breathing out words through steps, “Matter. Now.”

The ghast shrieked again as Wilbur saw a portal. The purple wisps of smoke that loom outside those obsidian creations had never looked so welcoming, along with the faint whirring that accompanied it. Wilbur ran faster, each step hurting more and more, but getting him closer and closer to safety. A fireball landed just a few feet behind him.

“Wilbur, I’m sorry about t-telling you that you n-need to be friends with T- t- techy! I- I didn’t mean it, please, make it stop!”

Wilbur couldn’t tell Ghostbur all the comfort he knew the ghost deserved, he had to stay alive, for the both of them. Just ten more seconds away, just nine more seconds of unbearable pain. Just-

“Wilbur, please!”

Wilbur sprinted straight into the portal, slamming into the wall behind it. The ghast shrieked and spat out a fireball. Wilbur’s legs almost went out under him from pure fear that the ghast would take out the portal, but the purple swirls grew louder and louder as he was only inches away from a fireball killing him.

The second he made it out of the heat, and into the ice-cold landscape of Snowchester, he collapsed. While he could hear his breathing, in a little less hectic way out here, though he could still feel the burn, and Ghostbur… Ghostbur was still sobbing. Wilbur was crawling near the ground, and with a deep breath, he placed his chin in the snow. It sent a shiver through his body at first, though the coldness slowly numbed the worst parts of the pain, replacing it with the feeling of a wet wound. It wasn’t comfortable in the slightest, but the pain lessened, and Ghostbur’s cries became quieter.

“T-thank you.” Ghostbur whispered, his voice strained, “I’m s-sorry I-”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Wilbur said, hissing through the pain, “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Ghostbur was silent for a breath. “W-what… What was that? It hurt. It hurt s-so bad, I…”

Wilbur swallowed, finding himself considering the statement deeply because in truth he wasn’t completely sure. Or well, he got the gist of it, he wasn’t completely dense, but he didn’t quite understand the extent of it. “In the nether… There was a ghast.” Wilbur said, trying to sound as calming as possible, which was ridiculous, because why was Wilbur put in a situation where he had to calm someone? To calm a ghost that sounded like himself, yet didn’t resemble him at all? What was Wilbur supposed to say, and why was he stuck being the one to say it? Yet, he didn’t have the time to think much of it now. “It attacked, and I stumbled and I got a burn…” Wilbur said, trying to grasp it all himself, “It must’ve… It must’ve hurt you too.”

“What? But that doesn’t make sense at all. We’re far away from each other, you said. I shouldn’t be able to feel that,” Ghostbur said, disbelief shining through the leftover sobs.

“I don’t… I don’t know exactly how.” Wilbur admitted, “But I guess you can somehow… Feel the pain I feel… At least when it’s that intense, it didn’t happen before.”

“Oh.” Ghostbur said, “Oh, I’m so sorry Wilbur. That really hurt but, I had no idea you were going through it too.” Ghostbur’s voice grew quiet with guilt.

“Please,” Wilbur said, catching himself laughing humorlessly. “Please, there is no reason to apologize to me I…” he took a deep breath, “I’m fine Ghostbur! I’m always fine, but now we somehow need to fix the pain.”

“So we can… So we can feel better.” Ghostbur stated determinedly, “Okay. I’ll stay strong like you Wilbur!”

Perhaps Wilbur was about to dispute Ghostbur’s words, but before he even knew himself, he heard footsteps to his right.

“W-Wilbur?” Wilbur looked over at the sound, seeing a boy- was that even right? The person to the right of him had half-black and half-white skin, green and red eyes worriedly staring near the snow. The kid’s hair was also half-black and half-white, but it was distinct from the skin with how soft it seemed from appearance. On top of his hair was a crown that shined with green and red gems, one that reminded Wilbur of Techno. He even had dark purple armor like him.

“Oh my goodness, Ranboo! Is he alright? I didn’t hear him in the nether with you.” Wilbur was glad that Ghostbur’s mind was focused on something that wasn’t pain.

“Yep, the one and only Wilbur Soot! Fun fact, fire really hurts.”

Ranboo ran a hand through his hair with an exasperated expression on his face, “Of course it would! Did your armor break or something, I- I think we have a spare set you could borrow.”

Wilbur pursed his lips. L’Manburg had a rule against armor. Yet, L’Manburg was a giant crater in the ground. He wasn’t even the president of the nation anymore, it was Tubbo now, he didn’t even know if he was still a L’Manburg citizen either. “That-” Wilbur thought carefully about his next words, “isn’t necessary.”

“Wilbur,” Ghostbur said in an authoritative tone.

“But thank you for the offer anyway… Ranboo?”

Ranboo shuffled where he was, rocking back and forth, “I- Is there anything I can do? I know we don’t know each other but,” Ranboo cleared his throat, “We wouldn’t mind helping you for a bit.”

Wilbur nodded into the snow, “That sounds nice.”

Moments of silence stretched between the two. “So… you said something about fire? I- I’m not an expert of first aid or anything, but we can probably at least give you some bandages or get someone here who’s more experienced? Actually, yeah- I’ll go get Tubbo and you- uh. You just sort of sit here, cool?”

Wilbur chuckled, “Cool as snow.”

Ranboo’s voice faded away as he walked back towards wherever he came from, “Cool, yeah, snow.”

Wilbur sighed and slightly shifted into the snow, getting a colder part onto his face.

Ghostbur’s relaxed tone came into his mind, “Ranboo’s nice. He’s fun to talk to. Sometimes he gets a little uncomfortable, especially around new people, but he’s a super neat guy! I hope you guys become friends.”

Wilbur heard some running that was slightly muted by the snow, he tilted his head slightly upwards and his eyes met Tubbo’s.

Wilbur gasped, “Tubbo! It’s so great to see you!”

Tubbo stopped walking upon Wilbur’s welcome. Something in his eyes showed a hesitance that Wilbur hated. It was the one that made Tubbo agree to anything instead of voicing legitimate concerns. It made Tubbo lose one of his lives to Schlatt’s presidency. It made him powerless in the end.

Tubbo’s voice cracked, “Wilbur, I-” Tubbo exhaled, “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.” Wilbur felt he could hear distaste in the boy’s voice, but he didn’t bother to point it out.

“I figured I’d give one of my favorite people a visit,” Wilbur couldn’t help but grin. Tubbo was a little taller than he’d last seen him, or maybe he carried himself a little higher.

“Awww. I think Tubbo’s got a fond memory of you.” Ghostbur gasped, “You can be his friend too!”

Tubbo was caught off-guard by Wilbur’s remark. A small smile found a way onto his face, “You- there’s no way.”

Wilbur let out a small laugh, “Oh absolutely! You were always one of my favorites, so brilliant and strong.”

Tubbo almost laughed along with Wilbur, but his eyes clouded with an active worry that Wilbur had seen many times. “Is there something you need?”

"Well, my face is burning for one," Wilbur stated, raising an eyebrow.

“For two, actually!” Ghostbur remarked, and Wilbur almost had the urge to laugh, though he honestly doubted that Ghostbur was trying to be funny.

“Oh! Right right, Ranboo said, and-” Tubbo looked at Wilbur’s face a little closer, just enough for Wilbur to get a good look at the boy’s eyes.

Or, perhaps he wasn’t a boy anymore. It had been thirteen and a half years after all, and time did indeed show in those eyes. Like a glimmer, igniting the spark of recognition, that made Wilbur feel as if he was intruding. Though that was just something Tubbo had to get used to, of course. Tubbo cringed slightly at the sight of the wound, “Sheesh man, the nether really did a number on you.” he said, almost as if he was trying to lighten the mood, “What were you doing in there without armour anyway?”

“Fuck off.” Wilbur said with a laugh, though when Ghostbur made a noise of uncomfortableness, he added a quick, “Sorry, sorry... But if you have anything that could help-”

“Oh. Of course,” Tubbo said with a series of very quick nods. He took a deep breath, and looked at Ranboo. “We should… We should bring you to the mansion.” he looked at Wilbur and added nervously, “And uh, snow isn’t good for burns in the long run.”

“You try falling into fire , and thinking ahead afterwards.” Wilbur said, as if he was joking, though a quick hiss of pain as he lifted his head, made him feel pathetic. If there was one thing Wilbur despised, it was feeling pathetic.

Tubbo laughed, though the clear worry was still showing, as he placed his hand on Wilbur’s arm to steady him. Once Wilbur stood on both his legs again, he shook Tubbo’s arm off, because he was not going to make a habit out of being steadied all the way to the nearest residence.

If it was a residence of course. “Excuse me, did you say mansion?”

“Oh! Yeah, Foolish built it for us. We were just moving some of our things there when Ranboo saw you.”

Now that was most peculiar, because the our was said so naturally, as if Tubbo and Ranboo were combined by default, and once again Ranboo was reminded of Ghostbur’s words.

I just know they make each other very happy.

“You two live together?” Wilbur inquired curiously, trying to ignore how Ghostbur’s breathing became more unsteady because of the pain from the burn once again.

At that, Tubbo’s eyes widened just slightly, and Wilbur caught a faint blush on his face. “Oh… Oh yeah, you missed a beat, uhm…” Out of the corner of his eye, Wilbur noticed Ranboo shifting uncomfortably. “We’re sort of, maybe uh…” Tubbo tried, phrasing the next part like a question rather than with the certainty it probably deserved, “Married?”

At first, Wilbur looked from Tubbo to Ranboo with disbelief paving his expression. “Married?” he repeated. Then, he laughed, “Of course! Of course, that all makes sense now, so much time has passed! Congratulations Tubbo, my man!” he looked at Ranboo, who smiled awkwardly, “I’ll have to get to know your husband better. And you live in a mansion , you’re doing well for yourself here!”

Tubbo chuckled, a bit of relief showing through it, though it was still hesitant. “Y-yeah! We haven’t quite moved in yet, but it’s very, very big. You’ll see it, ah look!” he pointed in the direction they were walking, the roof already towering above everything.

Wilbur wasn’t certain what he had been expecting, but the sheer size of the place, casting a grand shadow, was not something Wilbur would’ve assumed came from a private mansion. A castle perhaps, god forbid, but certainly not the type of place Tubbo would live in. As they approached, Wilbur’s mouth gaped, looking at the several floors going up, stone and light from the windows, adding a homely glow.

[grapesodatozier]

a smile like flying

finally wrote some kaspbrough!! here’s some through-the-years, friends-to-lovers fluff about bill believing in eddie and the two of them falling in love <3 spans elementary school through college

rating: teen and up (honestly it could probably be general but idk there’s kissing lol spoiler alert)

word count: 2.5k

warnings/tags: fluff, friends to lovers, brief mentions of sonia’s abuse

read on ao3 or below!

Eddie clutches the chains at his sides, the cool metal slipping through his sweaty palms as the grounds whizzes by beneath him, back and forth, the wind ruffling his hair but doing nothing to loosen his grip on the swing. “Come on, Eddie! It’s f-f-fun, I puh-promise!” Eddie looks up at that voice. Some hidden part of him that’s not ready just yet to peek out knows he’ll always look to that voice, would crawl through the dark after it. And as he looks up, still steadily pumping his legs back and forth, the grating, rhythmic creaking of the swing set fades away. All he can focus on is the bright smile on his best friend's face. Bill’s only seven, but he’s fallen gracefully into his relatively new role of older brother to his baby brother Georgie, and it’s like he was meant to take care of people, to show them new things with his arms open like they are now as his blue eyes glitter up at Eddie. “Jump!” he says, his voice all encouragement and confidence that Eddie wants to curl into like a blanket. Eddie steels himself, taming the butterflies in his stomach. As he does, Bill says the thing that gets him to finally loosen his grip: “You c-can do it!”

He can do this. Bill just said so. The words lift him up, let him fly. And he really does for a moment. It’s scary when the ground comes rushing at him, but he’s laughing as the air rushes past him, knowing that, for a moment, his body had felt weightless. The wood chips scrape at his knees and palms as he lands, and it stings a little, but he did it. 

Bill’s at his side in an instant, his smile blotting out the harsh light of the sun as his red curls hang in his face. “See? I knew you cuh-c-could! W-w-wasn’t it f-fun?”

Eddie takes Bill’s hand and lets him help Eddie sit up. It’s so different, the way Bill offers his hand to Eddie. There’s no tugging, no taking without asking. Bill smells like grass and air, and he looks like June, and there’s nothing Eddie loves more. For a moment he can leave the mothballs and stale perfume and antiseptic behind, all the screeches of “Eddie, you can’t do that!” fading away as his head swims with the echo of Bill’s voice telling him, “You can do it!” He smiles to himself as he gets up and dusts the dirt off his knees. He did it.

Eddie clutches at the bottom hem of his shorts, his stomach swooping with his eyes as he tracks the movement of the ride zooming past him. He doesn’t know what it is about the cross sections of the metal, or the speed of the roller coaster cars that makes his heart race like this. It’s different than watching the trains; he can actually get on this one. He’s supposed to get on this one. He can fly and drop and come back up again, if he wants to. He told his mom Mr. Denbrough was taking them to the museum, and he briefly wonders if she’ll be able to smell the cotton candy on his fingers before Bill’s voice cuts through his worried thoughts. “Eddie, you coming?” he asks, hand outstretched. “This w-w-one’s my favorite!” 

The line is long, but nothing ever feels like waiting when he’s with Bill. Bill’s all smiles and red cheeks today, his auburn hair shining under the sun. Listening to Bill talk almost makes Eddie forget where they are. But then they’re at the front of the line, the swooping track in front of them, and Bill must see the fear in Eddie’s eyes, because he takes Eddie by the hand and tells him, “You can do it.” In that moment Eddie’s too preoccupied with processing the way Bill takes his hand without hesitation to be scared. Bill wasn’t afraid of anything—and he believes in Eddie. It makes Eddie feel better. It’s still scary, but Eddie climbs into the seat anyway, and the ride attendant pulls the bar down against Eddie’s chest, locking them in. Eddie’s heart starts racing at the unyielding sound of the lock, his breath feeling thin in the way he’s still getting used to reminding himself isn’t actually asthma. He grips the bars just as he gripped the chains of the swing so many years ago. But then Bill punches him lightly on the shoulder and gives him that soft yet confident grin, and Eddie thinks that maybe this fear is actually excitement. He still has trouble telling the difference.

The climb is the worst of it, but Bill cheers all the way through, and Eddie realizes he’s smiling even as expletive after expletive falls from his lips. 

And then the fall.

It feels like flying. Some distant part of him thinks of the playground, of the wood chips, but this is so much further, so much better. It’s faster, and it just keeps going, the world spinning around him. He lets out a sound somewhere between a whoop and a laugh as his hair flies back. The wind rushes past him, cooling his sun-warmed cheeks. His feet dangle freely as they dip and curve, and then he’s upside down holy fuck he’s upside down and he loves it. 

His legs shake when he gets off, and Bill isn’t embarrassed to help hold him up for a moment as he stumbles. They’re on solid ground now, but Eddie can still feel that rush of wind pulling his cheeks back, and he can’t stop smiling. 

“How w-was it?” Bill asks with an excited, knowing smile.

Eddie beams up at him, wonder still in his eyes. “Can we go again?”

Bill laughs, and the sound of it feels just like Eddie felt when he was upside down for the first time. Dangling and rushing and safe and free all at once. “Let’s try the others, yeah?” The sun makes his skin sing as he and Bill stride across the park, under feats of engineering that leave Eddie almost as awestruck as Bill does. 

Eddie’s hand shakes as it hovers over his laptop’s mousepad, the cursor dangerously close to the button that decides his future for the next four years, and probably well beyond that. The button that, if pressed, will send him to New York City in a few months. A button his mother knows nothing about. 

He wants it, god he wants it so bad, but he can’t help but think of everything that could go wrong. Eddie’s done a lot of things in his life that younger versions of himself would never have thought possible, plenty of things his mother doesn’t know about, but the racing in his chest doesn’t feel fun right now. This feels downright reckless. This isn’t just a broken arm, this is his entire future on the line. This button will change his relationship with his mother forever.

Which he knows is also something he wants, but that desire comes with a painful twist of guilt in his chest. All the rationalizing and cataloguing of her offenses can’t stop that feeling.

But the gentle, encouraging weight that presses to his back helps. Bill’s chest is warm and solid where it presses against Eddie’s shoulder blade, and when he tilts his head to the side Bill lets him rest against him, even turns his face slightly into Eddie’s hair. He puts his hand on Eddie’s hip, settling around him naturally, and gives him an encouraging squeeze. Eddie wants to live in the comfort that gesture brings him for the rest of his life. And he thinks he might just be able to when Bill says in a voice both soft yet sure, “You can do it.” 

It’s the push Eddie needs. The hand reaching out to him, asking him to tag along, that smile and that feeling of sunshine that make Eddie feel like he can do anything. The reminder that wherever this decision takes him, he won’t be going there alone. Taking one last deep breath, he forces his finger down. He feels his breath leave him as letters cross the screen congratulating him. Then the smile pulls at his lips as Bill cheers behind him, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s middle. Eddie giggles and leans into it, feeling completely at home. Fuck, he’d do that a million more times if it meant Bill would keep holding him like this. Because as he looks at Bill, at the pride in his blue eyes, Eddie knows he’s safe. He can take those jumps. He can do it; Bill said it himself.

And he does it. New York isn’t easy, but it’s freedom. It’s that airborne feeling that scares him but excites him more. And while it certainly does a fine job on its own of dazzling him, what makes it feel like a home is the knowledge that Bill is just a short subway ride away. 

Bill has always felt like a reprieve from Sonia, but this is different. She finally, truly can’t reach them, not here. While it definitely is a relief, it also changes things in a way Eddie hadn’t expected. It makes the air around him and Bill crackle when they get too close. Eddie can’t stop his heart from racing around Bill, so loud he thinks it might be audible. And Eddie’s heart has always raced around Bill, this is nothing new—but it feels different now. There’s a possibility that wasn’t there before. This intimacy can go uninterrupted. It feels somehow both less and so much more fragile than before. What was once a fond fantasy now lies right in front of him every time Bill comes over to watch a movie, every time Eddie tells him he should stay the night because he doesn’t want Bill to get lost without him there to help him navigate the streets and subways Bill’s still getting used to.

Tonight’s one of those nights. Bill’s working on a writing assignment at Eddie’s desk while Eddie scrolls through his phone on his bed. He’s not necessarily finished with his homework, but he’s decided he’s intellectually unavailable after eight o’clock on Friday nights. 

He hears Bill sigh, but it sounds at least satisfied, if not excited. Just as Eddie’s turning his head to check in on him, Bill flops himself onto Eddie’s bed, their bodies brushing together in the small space. Their faces are nearly touching, so close he can feel Bill’s breath on his lips. But Bill doesn’t move, so Eddie doesn’t either. He barely dares to breathe, but finally he asks, “How’s it coming along?”

“Not bad,” Bill answers. His fingers brush against Eddie’s hip. Eddie can’t tell if it’s an accident or not, but neither of them move away. “Think I’ve got something pretty solid going.”

“You gonna let me read it this time?” Eddie asks with a teasing smile. 

Just as he always does, Bill looks down with a bashful grin on his face and a faint blush on his cheeks. Eddie loves the way he looks when he gets like this, all modest and embarrassed but clearly pleased with Eddie’s interest in his writing. “Maybe when it’s finished,” Bill mumbles, looking up at Eddie through his eyelashes.

“I thought you said a writer’s work is never finished.” Eddie cocks his eyebrow, and Bill rolls his eyes with a laugh.

“Well I guess you’ll never read it then!” he teases, getting on top of Eddie to playfully push at his shoulder. Eddie giggles, thrilled by the sight of Bill smiling above him, his hair flopping into his face, never doing what Bill wants it to do but always looking perfect anyway.

“Guess I’ll just have to come to the book signings with all the other fans,” Eddie jokes. “Think you’ll still remember me when you’re big and famous?” And it really is a joke, mostly. While the thought of losing Bill is a scary one, it’s not something he lets himself worry about too much. Bill’s too constant. He may be a bit of wildcard sometimes, but he’s never disappeared, not from Eddie. He makes Eddie feel sure he’ll always be there. Always there for him, always smiling at him. Right now his pink lips are pressed together and quirked into a wry smile, and Eddie can’t stop thinking about kissing them. He nearly gasps when Bill drops to his elbow, suddenly so much closer to Eddie, and strokes his free hand through Eddie’s hair. Eddie leans into it as slightly as he can, instinctively chasing the comfort that lies in the palm of Bill’s hand.

“You’re gonna do way bigger things than I am,” he tells Eddie with a soft smile. His eyes overflow with a sincerity that takes Eddie’s breath away. “It’s amazing, the way some things just come naturally to you.”

You’re amazing, Eddie wants to say. But his head always starts swimming when Bill talks to him like this. Bill compliments him a lot, but this feels more like praise, and Eddie can feel the warmth emanating from Bill’s body as it presses gently against his own, and he can smell Bill’s laundry detergent on his t-shirt. Eddie’s even worse than Bill is at accepting compliments like this, and he really doesn’t want to use words now. He wants to kiss Bill and never stop, wants to crawl into the core of the feeling of whatever’s happening between them right now and never leave.

In his head he can hear Bill’s voice: you can do it.

So he does. It’s a little awkward at first, because he has to shift his weight up to reach Bill’s lips. But then Bill is leaning into it and gently lowering Eddie back down to his pillow as he does so. Bill’s hand feels so big as he cradles Eddie’s face, and Eddie can barely decide where he wants his hands. He wants to run them up Bill’s arms and shoulders, he wants them in his hair. He’s also got other stuff on his mind, like the way Bill’s lips feel against his, and how he pulls back for just a moment, hesitantly, like he wants to make sure this is actually happening but doesn’t want to stop kissing Eddie for even a second. They lock eyes for a moment, and Eddie feels so safe, even as his heart pounds at his chest. It’s that feeling of flying, of the risk paying off. The feeling he’s always had around Bill, but so much more concentrated now. It’s so strong he can barely breathe, much less talk. But thankfully, with a silent smile, Bill leans in again, his lips firm and sure against Eddie’s. Eddie dives headfirst into the feeling, and he’s eager to get lost in it for as long as he can, knowing Bill will be right there when he opens his eyes.

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[lovelikedestiny]

Snow and Ashes

Booker wants to laugh when Joe almost stumbles into a tree in the darkness in front of him, but the exhaustion weighs leaden in his bones and the past mission pulls the corners of his mouth down with sad certainty. He is content with a snort, which doesn't even sound amused, just wounded and painful.

Every one of his steps carries the weight of the innocent lives they could not save today. His hands are covered in the blood of the children who were killed a few hours ago, the sight of tears smeared faces and empty eyes has burned itself into his mind - because they made a mistake.

It was supposed to be a relatively simple mission: free the detained young women, men and children, and kick the human traffickers into Tartarus. But something went wrong. They made a shitty mistake and now the victims - people who had families who prayed for their deliverance - are dead and the world is no better place.

Booker wants to throw the responsibility of saving as many lives as possible on the ground and trample on it at times like these because he doesn't know how the hell to live with the knowledge that he let people die he could have saved.

The cries for help still echo in his ears, as well as the gunfire and the screams. Pale, non-existent fingers cling to his equipment, begging him to take them back to their families, and Booker almost chokes because his throat is suddenly too tight to breathe normally.

"The tree wasn't there two seconds ago," Joe says in an attempt to loosen the depressed mood that has settled over the four immortals like a threatening storm cloud. But his voice sounds dull and flat and when he straightens the scimitar on his back, his gloved hands shake.

Still, Booker steps in immediately to prevent Joe's attempt to come to nothing and although the words feel like broken glass in his mouth, Booker brings them out. “I bet it was just waiting to hop in your path. So that you would literally be a blockhead."

Joe doesn't laugh, but the grateful look he gives him over his shoulder is enough to take the pressure off Booker's throat a little. At least for now. “Exactly. This forest is dangerous.”

“I heard that beeches are supposed to be particularly smart,” Booker says, straightening the straps of his backpack, which dig into his shoulders as if their failure would make his backpack even heavier.

"Then I'll keep an eye on beeches," Joe says and the weak, narrow smile on his face is atypical for him and his broad grin with the radiance of the damn sun, but Booker doesn't blame him and clings to the much smaller version of this smile.

They've been wandering through the forest for two hours after rushing to leave the place on their mission after they screwed up. It's freezing, the wind feels like little blades in Booker's face, and to top it off, it looks like it is going to start to snow soon. Booker has hated snow since his first death in the icy winter of Russia and after the complete failure today he is not exactly eager to deal with snow.

The darkness has long since settled over them, but the full moon gives them enough light. Booker has no idea what time it is, and he doesn't bother to check. What does time mean when there are people whose time ended today because of them? While they are still walking around and alive despite the bullets that hit them?

At the head of their formation, Andy doesn't seem to be deciding to take a break anytime soon. Her steps are determined and harsh, though she's still limping slightly from the force of the grenade that hit her and Joe.

While her lower body was most affected and it was sheer luck that none of her legs were completely torn off, Joe had been hit mostly in the upper body. His jacket is torn, and his sweater is barely there and dark from the blood and remnants of the intestines that had previously oozed from his open abdominal wall. He protested when Nicky handed him his jacket on the grounds that his hoodie was thicker than Joe's barely existing sweater, but he put it on. And that is sorely needed.

Even Booker is already freezing in his intact, well-filled jacket and the thought of just trudging through the forest in a sweater gives goosebumps to his goosebumps. At least the numbness has disappeared from his left arm, which lurked there since one of the criminal bastards rammed a knife into his shoulder.

However, this does not lessen his exhaustion and if he is so tired, it must be worse for Joe and Andy, who suffered the most severe injuries on this mission. Without a word, he watches as Joe stumbles more and more over roots or branches, which are actually easy to see in the moonlight. And even if Andy continues to keep her tight pace, Booker reads in the way her shoulders hunch that she is drained too. There are still a few miles to go to the place, where the hut they are aiming for to gather from today's loft, is. At least if Booker's brain hasn't completely shut down yet.

There is almost nothing to be heard from behind him and if Booker had less faith in his team, his family, he would be of the firm belief that Nicky would not be walking behind him at all. As he always does, he brings up the rear this night too because he prefers to cover their backs. And although Booker doesn't hear anything from Nicky other than the occasional cracking of branches or the sounds of his weapons, he feels a little better knowing that Nicky's watchful eyes are on them.

When Joe stumbles so hard that he has to support himself on a tree trunk within his reach to avoid falling, Nicky glides past Booker more gracefully than he should be able to with all the equipment strapped to him.

One hand curves gently around Joe's neck, the other carefully grips his upper arm and he asks Joe a question so quietly that Booker can't hear him.

"Boss," Booker calls to signal Andy that they have stopped briefly, and the warrior immediately comes to a halt and turns around to them.

“We can't take a break. The fucking bastards who are still alive could be on our heels and I want to get to the fucking hut before the snow sets so that it can cover our tracks,” she says impatiently, but in her old eyes the hopelessness is visible that Booker currently prefers to drown with vodka.

"Andy, you have to rest," Nicky says quietly, without letting go of Joe, who no longer leans on the trunk, but practically clings to Nicky, even if he tries to look as if it doesn't cause him any problems to keep his footing. "Major injuries take their toll and it is not advisable to ignore your body's signals."

The fact that he speaks so steadfastly and confidently is in stark contrast to the blood that covers most of his face like a grotesque mask. Head wounds have a habit of bleeding like a stabbed pig, and although Nicky's cut was relatively small and healed quickly, the residue is all too obvious.

“It's not wise to take a break while these fuckers might be after us. We pretty much ruined their day because they lost their hostages through us and if they want revenge, I don't feel like dying in this motherfucking forest.”

The effect of her words does not go unnoticed: a muscle in Nicky's jaw twitches, Joe lowers his head as if he wants to hide and Booker can't suppress a jerk of his hands. The truth of Andy's words is like salt in a wound that cannot heal. And it shows Booker how much damage they have done today instead of helping.

The innocent are dead and those who deserve to die may hunt them down because they lost their wares to the immortals.

If Booker's stomach wasn't empty, he might throw up. Purely on principle.

Nicky doesn't look satisfied, but he doesn't argue, and Booker believes this is just because of Andy's demeanor, which is so crooked as if she could feel all her millennia to the core.

They start moving again and Booker is tempted to hold his backpack in front of him to protect himself from the razor-sharp wind that makes his eyes water. After a few meters, Joe sways slightly in front of him, but before Booker can move to help him, Nicky is already at Joe's side.

“Tesoro, you are tired. Give your body a break,” Booker hears him say.

Joe makes an indefinable hand gesture that was originally supposed to be a wave aside sign. "I'm fine," he mumbles, blinking like an owl. Booker, who knows what a deep sleeper Joe is, grimaces sympathetically. “I can go on in five minutes. Just five mnts...” The last sentence is so mumbled that Booker can only understand the content from the context.

Five minutes later, Nicky carries Joe piggyback, his own backpack on the front of his chest. Joe's faint protests are silent now, his head resting on Nicky's right shoulder and his curls brushing Nicky's cheek regularly in the rhythm of his steps.

How Nicky doesn't even falter despite his sword, the two backpacks, the sniper rifle and Joe with his scimitar, is a mystery to Booker, but it is very likely that Joe is the reason. And this tender consideration from Nicky for the love of his life on his back causes a bittersweet pain in Booker's chest.

He breathes on, however, and is relieved that the memories of his wife and babies are not surfacing in addition to today's shit and that the pain goes away as soon as it comes.

Booker really doesn't begrudge Joe and Nicky their relationship, despite the occasional touch of envy, for the two never behave cruelly, never rub their love under anyone's nose, and embrace everyone in their aura of joy. Booker is one of those people lucky enough to experience love from them. In the form of the jokes and hugs from Joe, the derisive comments and headbutts from Andy and the barely visible smiles and blankets that Nicky carefully puts over him when Booker has drunk himself into a coma again.

He is not alone in the sinking ship that the world seems to be from time to time. But sometimes it feels like that.

Because Nicky now carries Joe on his back, he has taken his position in their formation and even if Booker is not often at the tail, he has nothing to complain about. Having no one behind you has the advantage of being able to think about it without having to pay attention to how you appear to the outside world.

It's not the first time Nicky has carried Joe because he's too tired, and Booker has seen it the other way around, albeit not very often. Nicky doesn't retire until he's made sure they're safe and everyone is fine, but when he was injured so badly that he couldn't walk alone and they had to leave, Booker got the chance to watch Joe carrying Nicky.

The familiarity with which the two deal with each other always tells of the length of their relationship without needing words and it is equally fascinating and frightening: fascinating because they are the only people in this world who have been together for centuries and have reached a depth in their connection that no one will ever reach and scary because Booker doesn't want to find out what happens when one of them ultimately dies and leaves the other behind.

Nicky's lowered voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and he is happy about it, preferring to concentrate on something other than his head and what is in it. "Andy, please wait.”

Her leader walks two more meters before she complies with Nicky's request and turns her head to them with a raised eyebrow in question. "What is it?"

Instead of answering her, Nicky turns to Booker and the request in his bright eyes is so clear that, for once, he doesn't have to put it into words for Booker. "If that goes wrong, you'll pick up my remains," Booker grumbles so quietly that Andy can't hear him as he walks past Nicky.

Andy takes note of his approach in silence, but then rolls her eyes when he stops next to her and takes his backpack from his back to put it on his chest like Nicky. "Fuck off, Book. I don't need to be carried.”

Andy's hard shell is easy to see through with centuries of practice and Booker sees her exhaustion as clearly as if it was broad daylight and the lines of tiredness had been circled with a marker on Andy's face. It's no wonder Nicky spotted the signs long before Booker. When it comes to their family, he never misses anything.

“I know you don't need to be carried. You don't have to tell me,” Booker replies casually, but makes no move to put his backpack back on its proper spot. "But we both know who wins when Nicky has a say in this matter, and what we need least at the moment is a discussion with that stubborn man." They both know what Booker is doing, but Andy doesn't address it and Booker pretends not to notice that she got it. "So, it would only be beneficial if we could avoid these problems by letting me carry you, even if you don't need help, right?"

As Booker follows her gaze backwards, Nicky's focus is not on them, but on the sleeping Joe, whom he carefully pushes higher on his back to get a better grip on his legs. But it is no secret that Nicky was still following their exchange closely.

With a low growl, Andy lets out a sharp gush of air through her nose, which rises into the sky in clouds of steam. “For fuck's sake, fine. But if you drop me, I'll break your nose.”

Booker coughs a strange kind of a dead laugh. "Got it." It's not the first time he's carried Andy either, during missions there is no time to make out who is carrying whom with which injury and when she climbs onto his back, he finds her warmth a little comforting.

Read more on AO3 ;)

[huihuiheart]

D&D SFW Version Part 2 - Steal Your Heart

Pairing:  reader x Knight! Chan, reader x Dark Prince! Hyunjin, reader x Thief! Felix, reader x Fairy! Jisung

Warnings: Love triangle?, honestly there are so many love interests and mixed feelings in this series, that’s about it though.

Word Count: 1836

Previous Part ____ Next Part

Chan woke you late into the night, giving you an apologetic look, “Sorry….we have to go now, though. I already have everything ready.” He says, handing you a smaller bag as he slings a much larger one over his shoulder before offering you his hand to lead you out. “Just follow my lead.” He whispers before slowly peeking his head out the door and slipping out, leading you by the hand. He weaved through the gloomy run down halls in this part of the prince’s castle before slipping past the guards into the dungeon.

Felix, hearing footsteps looking up in shock to find you and Chan looking right back at him, “Well…guess the prize for recapturing me the quickest goes to the lovebirds, hmm?” He playfully rolls his eyes with a small smirk.

“Do we look like we’re here to capture you?” You quip back as Chan tosses him a pair of clothes to disguise himself in.

Felix’s toothy grin only grows further, “Oh…I get it, the little princess wants out of the cage…..I’ll help, but I have conditions…I’ll let you know after I change.” He eyes you complacently before winking, “You can watch if you want, princess.”

You sneer at him for that, your jaw clenching as you quickly turn your back, Chan giving him a threatening look. Felix only got more under your skin when you heard him laugh, followed by the light sounds of cloth, being tossed around.

“Alright, now onto business…..I am a thief after all, so it’s not like I’d just do this for nothing now, would I?” Felix coyly inquired. You felt a growing desire to punch Felix square in the jaw. Sure the Felix you know could be cocky and tease, one might even say he could be a little shit, but he wasn’t nearly so unbearable as this!

“How about to spite Hyunjin?” Chan offers, thinking Felix might like to toy with the dark prince. 

Felix hums in thought, “I guess that’s a start, but not enough……however, as it stands, I’m not quite sure what you’d have to offer me. So I’ll help, but I get to tag along. Until I’m repaid, what I feel is worth my help.”

Before Chan can say something to argue, you quickly speak up to agree, “ That’s fine, just hurry up and lead the way.” 

This Felix may be hard to handle, but if he was with you, then that means he’s not being executed for his crimes. Who knows what that would mean in real life, but if you ever wanted to see your Felix again, you were going to keep this one close and safe just in case to be sure you’d get your boy back, even if it was going to be a rough ride along the way. 

Felix nodded and started to lead the way, as you glanced back to give Chan a scolding glare as he mumbled about ways to get rid of Felix once you were all out of here. Upon reaching a window, Felix opened it and peeked out, sitting on the sill and offering you a hand, “Alright, princess, you’re up first.” 

Only once he helped you out did you realize how high up you were and how dangerous this plan was, sticking close to the building with a small whine, “….L-Lix…..I-I’m not good with heights…”

Felix smirks at the sound you make laugh lightly and following close behind, leaving Chan to follow behind you both, “It’s alright, I won’t let you fall.” 

Despite his smug assurance, he carefully keeps an eye on you and keeps his word, holding your hand to stabilize and guide you along the way until you made it to a less cared for part of the castle. 

“They don’t guard as much here.” Felix tells you and Chan before looking at Chan, “We’ll have to climb down, but then Y/N can jump down to us. This will be the easiest place to slip down and try to get past the walls. There's a weak area where a service gate used to be.”

With that Felix, started down, leading the way for Chan so that he wouldn’t fall, motioning you down before Chan was entirely stable onto the ground so that he could be the one to catch you when you jumped. You knew he did it on purpose, but you also weren’t sure how much time you had left until you all got caught, so you jumped anyways. Felix, smoothly catching you and settling your feet carefully on the ground before, once again taking the lead on where your small group of three needed to go. Felix led you to the far edge of the castle and peeked his head out. Before motioning for you to stick close to the building.

“Stay here! I’m going to go get the guard to move. Then I’ll have you guys follow,” Felix tells you before slipping through the opening and past the wall. For a bit, you heard and saw nothing, causing Chan to become worried that Felix had just left. Right as Chan was getting ready to go though there was a crash and when you looked around the corner there was a chest that looked like it had been dropped out of the castle. The impact had caused it to burst and scatter coins and gems everywhere giving a good distraction for you and Chan to slip out the same way Felix had before. Which was where you found the boy waiting for you leaning against the run down wall. 

“We can go on foot, but as soon as Hyunjin finds out, we’ll have trouble with his men since they have horses. We might stand a better chance of that if we hide our scent so their dogs can’t find us. But or best bet would be to hide our scent and try to find a faster way to travel.” Felix advises, and he leads the way through the forest just outside the castle. Despite the dark, Felix had no problems making his way through the forest. Knowing it like the back of his hand after all the times he’s broken into, and out of, the castle.

You looked to the side and saw a flittering blue light, it was a deep blue and yet glowing brightly as it danced through the dark forest, vaguely you heard Felix and Chan’s voices, but you, were so transfixed on the light that you almost started to follow it until Chan gently grabbed your arm to drag you along the way. You gasped, watching the little light flicker out saddening you a bit as you focused back on the boys again, following them into the morning light. You changed clothes again, each of you hiding your clothes off your path somewhere to hopefully throw the dogs off a bit until you reached some stables.

Chan sighed softly, “Do you think we’ll be able to afford them?”

“I think you can likely bargain with these, but I can’t cause I’m wanted.” Felix holds up a pouch of gems and gold, which he snatched from the chest before it crashed out of the castle.  

“Alright, Y/N and I’ll-” Chan started, and you sighed softly to yourself when Felix cut him off, already preparing yourself to stop the potential fight before it officially started.

“Y/N can stay with me. I have a hideout not too far away, and we can wait for you at it. I’m not dumb enough to let you both go over there just to be left.” Felix counters with a bite and you had to admit that Chan probably would have done that to him.

You find yourself agreeing before Chan can shoot back with a harsh tone to match Felix’s, “That’ fine. Just go get the horses, Chris, we’ll be waiting for you.”

Felix rambled off some general directions to his hideout before grabbing your hand and racing off to his hideout, giggling mischievously, as he knew Chan would struggle to find you both after those “directions” he gave. You found yourself rolling your eyes and pinching his side as you pulled you into a small home that on the outside looked to be abandoned, a good ways away from the village. 

Felix yelped at your pinch before laughing, “Aw, don’t tell me you’re defending him right now? He’s so strict~ I can’t believe you’re with him. Do you even have any fun?”

“Oh, so this is just fun for you?”You scoffed, “ Listen here, Felix! The reason Chris and I are so stuck up is because we have to worry about babysitting your ass all the time! Maybe if you stopped being a brat, we could all enjoy this a little more. Why are you even being such a pain anyway?”

Felix’s eyes widen at your words and the huff that followed before scowling slightly at you, “Who knows...maybe I’m just jealous…”

“Jealous? Of whom? Or what for that matter? We’re literally all in the same boat right now, Felix.” You shake your head incredulously at the boy, not believing his words. After all, what reason would he have to be jealous?

“Oh, really, we are? Cause last I checked, Chris was the one with a gorgeous woman by his side, and I’m just some godforsaken thief who is stuck third-wheeling.” Felix hisses out the information that makes it click for you, cheeks heating up with the realization.

“W-Well, I mean we aren’t...I-I mean....w-well it’s complicated.” You counter, making Felix raise a brow at you in disbelief. Reasonably so too, considering the way you stumbled over your words. Still, he stalks over to you, looking down at your form.

“So you’re telling me that you and Chris aren’t a thing then? Even when he’s always looking at you with those eyes?” Felix brushes some hair out of your eyes before his palm rests on your cheek, “You’re telling me that if I kissed you right now, you wouldn’t push me away?”

“Felix, I was betrothed to a man who wasn’t Chris. We couldn’t ever have anything official….b-but to answer you…no. I wouldn’t push you away if you kissed me.” You respond almost breathless at his touch and how close he was, feeling your heart race in your chest as you looked back into his eyes.

“Good.” Felix hums before his lips are on yours. Drawing you in, to the point where you thought you might be drowning in the feeling. So focused on the feeling of his lips and the way that it felt when his arms slipped around your waist to pull you into a warm embrace that you tuned out everything else. Even the sound of the door opening and approaching footsteps until it was too late. Jumping away from Felix when you heard someone clearing their throat, to see Chan standing there. His eyes hardened as he looked between you both, and you knew he would definitely have something to say about what he just saw.

[goldeneyedgirl]

JaliceWeek20: Canon Gapfillers

What You Say

JaliceWeek20 Day 3: Canon Gapfillers

Notes: It seemed unsporting for my version of Jess and Alice not to make at least one appearance in Jaliceweek, especially since everyone is so enthusiastic about the WIP! This is kind of a missing scene that comes before Jess’s temper tantrum scene posted here. I’m not big on canon gapfillers, really, so this was the most fun way to write it and even then, I probably took liberties. 

Only 2.5 to go! We’re getting close!

Takes place upon Alice’s return from Volterra in New Moon. 

Rating: M-ish, I guess? NSFW, but not super graphic. 

Word Count: 2,245

—

“I’m sorry.”

They’re the first words she says to Jessamine when she gets back from Volterra.

When they get off the plane, Bella is pale and twitchy, and everyone is fussing around her and Edward. Maybe Jess has already put them all off, pushing interest and focus off of her and onto the human girl. Or maybe they don’t see what Alice does.

The rigidness in her stance, the way she’s holding herself so tightly, so she takes up no more space than she needs to, the blank look on her face… Alice wants to run to her side, to wrap her arms around Jess and reassure her. Draw out every that is causing the pain, tension, the fear.

Except she knows exactly what - who - caused it, and more than that, Jess isn’t in that place. Not in such a public place; she won’t be able to touch her until she’s calmed, when her gift is not stretched to the very breaking point.

So she stands as close as to Jessamine as she dares, and she stares into those golden eyes that she loves so much that are so blank yet sharp, and knows that this is not yet over; Edward might have thought Aro was their reckoning, but Alice knows for her, it is Jessamine’s hurt.

—

The drive home with Carlisle and Esme is… taunt. She answers Carlisle’s questions honestly, and halfway home, Jess takes a quiet breath and that’s good. That’s a step closer to Jess purging all the toxic emotions she’s trapped inside herself, a step closer to talking and explaining and apologising a dozen times over.

The relief Alice feels when she sees the Forks house washes over her, and then she realises what she’s done, and she cannot even look back at Jess; she knows now. Knows how afraid Alice was, knows how close she was to never coming home again.

Esme smiles gently at both of them as they troop up the stairs; light and dark, tall and small, both looking like they’re off to their own executions.

She sees the confrontation in her mind; the words are changing and a little bit muffled because of it, but it happens like this - she sits cross legged on the bed with her head bowed and she apologies. Jess rages at her, properly destroys the rocking chair, two lamps, and her closet door before storming off into her study. Then Jess will come back and hold her so tight that not a single molecule can get between then, when they are just a single entity scented of roses and salt and rain and basil, and they will curl up together on the bed like that, pressed together until the fear and the grief and the guilt slowly ebbs.

That is how it happens until it does.

Her Jess does have such a bad temper. She just can’t remember the last time it was directed at her (yes she can - ’49, Toledo. That was an ugly argument and Alice is still properly ashamed of her part in it.)

So Alice goes to take her place on the bed, on the blue floral duvet that she bullied Jess into picking out that Jess decided Alice would like best even though Alice had given her two choices she already liked equally, because that’s just how they decided things. Except, she never gets to take a seat on the bed, because Jess has changed her mind and the future is scrambled, as Jess grabs her arm and spins her around.

The rage is second to only the fear in Jess’s eyes and Alice wants to cry, wants to weep out her apologies because it was always about protecting Jessamine, never about anything else. Not about trust, not about ability, not about anything more or anything less than the fact that of everything that Alice was prepared to hand to Aro, prepared to cut down and sacrifice, Jess was never on that list.

“I’m sorry,” she manages, in a small voice, unable to tear her gaze from Jess’s.

“Sorry for what?” Jess hisses back, her eyes hard. “Sorry for running away? Sorry for lying? Sorry for deciding some human girl is worth more than yourself?  Sorry for giving up the one thing that kept us safe? Should I keep going?”

Alice is shaking now, shaking with the weight of Jess’s disappointment and fear and hurt.

She grasps Alice by her shoulders and half shakes her. “Why did you do it? Why, Alice? Do you love Bella Swan that much? Edward? Are they worth that much to you? Because they sure as hell aren’t worth half as much to me as you are.

“You lied to me, Alice.”

All the fight seems to seep from Jess, and she jerks away, leaving Alice feeling like she’s been stripped bare, and quite ashamed.

“I didn’t want you to worry.” The words sound childish and feeble, not at all convincing.

“Not to worry?” Jess’s foot strikes out, and the rocking chair is kindling in the corner; at least her visions were right about one thing. “Do you know what it was like, the waiting? To know what you were walking in to? To not know if you’d ever walk out? If I’d ever see you again?”

Alice wants to crawl into her arms right now, to hide there and admit that she was terrified, terrified for Edward and Bella, and then terrified for herself and Jess. But she knew that Jessamine wasn’t in that place yet, was still letting out all her pain and fear, her gift still raw from waiting with the rest of the family, absorbing all of their pain on top of her own. The time will come when they wrap their arms around each other and Alice will murmur her fears into Jess’s ear and Jess will do everything she can to soothe them

But that will be later. For now, it is about Jess’s pain, Jess’s rage.

“You swore to me you would never lie to me, and you would never leave me. Remember?” Jess snaps, pacing the room like an agitated lioness. “Remember promising me that, Alice?”

“I do, of course,” Alice said softly.

“So why? Why did you do it?” Jess is suddenly towering over her. “Make me understand, Alice.”

“Because they’re family. Because I couldn’t stand back and let Edward die for such a stupid, senseless reason when Bella was always going to be one of us - the visions never changed. But then I thought Bella… I swear, I didn’t think I’d make it, I thought I’d just be there to help Charlie through it,” Alice whispered.

She swallowed hard. Jess was silent, watching her carefully, a judge, jury, and executioner all in one - and Alice will accept her judgement willingly.

“There was no way you could have been there. If Edward had seen any one of us, he would have revealed himself faster, and Aro would have punished all of all. If you had been there, Jess, there was no future that showed us walking away. The only chance for survival was if it was just me and Bella - even Carlisle would have died, Jess.”

“There were a million alternatives, Alice - I could have stayed in the goddamn car,” Jess said in that dangerous, low voice.

“You think there was ever a chance of you sitting in a car waiting whilst I faced the Volturi? Jess, that was never even a possibility. You couldn’t be there.” Alice was pleading now, and reached out to grab Jess’s hand.

Within a second, Jess has her pressed against the wall with her legs looped around her waist, Jess’s hand cradling the back of her head.

“Never again,” Jess says sternly.

“Never again, I promise,” Alice said breathlessly.

“Promises aren’t exactly your strongest argument right now, Miss Cullen,” Jess bites back, and then they are kissing, roughly - Jess’s kiss is harsh and unforgiving, and Alice melts into her arms, letting her love take what she needs to heal the hurt.

She lets Jess push her down onto the bed, her mouth hard and demanding as her hands dive under Alice’s clothing. For an empath, Jess has always been so physical, and it’s never been a bad thing, since she knows exactly what she’s doing. Her mouth is hot as it makes its way down Alice’s neck and when Alice gets her wits about her and reaches for Jess’s shirt, her hands are quickly pinned on either side of her head, Jess breathing, “don’t you dare move,” in her ear as her shirt and bra are torn away, Jess’s knee is between both of Alice’s legs and if this is her penance, Alice is going to go down willingly. She’s already got matching bite marks on the inside of both her thighs, overlapping from dozens of similar encounters over the years.

Jess has her stripped, except for her panties, and is staring at her with a dark but satisfied look, as her gift ripples through Alice, who arches slightly on the bed, grinding against Jess’s knee. She catches a glimpse of them in the mirror overhanging the dresser, a nearly obscene tableau of Jess hovering over her fully clothed, and her splayed across the bed in only her undergarments, grinding against Jess’s denim-clad leg.

Jess leans forward, cradling her head so gently, pulling her gift back enough for Alice to remember coherent thought, but instead of kissing her, Jess’s lips graze her ear as she whispers, firm and cold, “mine.”

And Alice is willing to agree to anything because that’s the moment that Jess strikes, her hand sliding into Alice’s panties and everyone is going to hear everything tonight, because she doesn’t even need to ask to know that Jessamine feels the same - like an exposed nerve, a cornered animal. The threat has passed, but it is also coming for them, in some kind of hazy future, and if incredibly loud sex is how they’re going to deal with that new knowledge, well, there are worse coping methods.

—

Jess lets them both leave the room when they are summoned to Bella’s meeting.

“Calling family meetings now,” she mutters, and Alice elbows her. Jessamine’s grudge holding is legendary - nothing Bella does between now and graduation will be immune to her judgement. Right now, though, with her legs feeling a little shaky and her own plans for her mate for the next day or two forming in her mind, Alice thinks the trait is cute.

Emmett starts to applaud when they both walk in, and for once Jess just rolls her eyes and high-fives him, whilst Alice primly takes a seat. Bella’s looking at the spot just beyond Alice’s left ear, her eyes quite red, so she must have been here for at least an hour, when Jess just wanted to see how loud Alice could get… Edward just looks like he’s living his worse possible day, and - already having seen why Bella has called the meeting - Alice thought it might definitely be in the top ten.

Jess sits beside her, resting her foot on the back of Alice’s chair, and Alice tries not to smirk when she feels the strands of love and lust and mischief twist their ways around her.

The vote for Bella joining the family goes just as she sees it, even ending with Edward shattering the television into three large pieces. As Bella departs and the rest of the family raise to disappear into the depths of the house, Alice leans over and rests her head against Jess’s arm.

“You know I’m going to kill Edward for putting you in danger,” Jess says conversationally.

“You have the right to be angry,” Alice agreed, nuzzling against her arm like a feline. “But you know murder would upset Esme, and wouldn’t really solve anything.”

Jess scowls, and in one motion, Alice has been lifted and settled into Jess’s lap. “A maiming then.”

Alice giggles, though she know that Jess has never made a hollow threat in her life. Her temper is legendary, and apparently Edward will be facing a reckoning with Jess as well.

“I love you,” Alice said, looking up at her love. “Never, ever doubt that every single thing I do, I do it for you. For us. Because I love you and I want to protect you, and there’s nothing that I can think of that I wouldn’t do to keep you safe and happy, Jessie.”

Jessamine closes her eyes and rests her chin on Alice’s head. “I don’t need protecting when it puts you in danger; that will never be okay with me,” Jess replies.

“And I will never be okay with you risk yourself to protect me, so I am afraid we are at an impasse,” Alice retorts cheerily, reminding them both of Maria’s visit to Calgary in ’76.

Jess rolls her eyes, but nods infinitesimally so she doesn’t have to move her head. She sighs, such a heavy sound and Alice aches to make this better, to erase the hurt completely. But she knows that will take time, and she’s never been known for her patience.

“I love you,” Alice says meekly, settling against Jess’s chest.

“I never doubted that,” Jess says mildly, and the future flutters and reforms, and Alice smiles, happy to sit quietly with Jess for awhile. Everything will be okay but, most importantly, Jess will be okay, and that’s all Alice ever wanted.

[taintedbloom]

Say Amen // Archie & Amelia

Perhaps, it weren’t the brightest of ideas to enter his father’s office without his permission, in spite of the fact the office space was rarely used to start with, but the Devereaux patriarch’s untimely demise dampened the likeliness he would receive punishment for the trespassing. It is not as if Archie cared for the man, he discovered the acceptance he couldn’t feel anything for anyone, much less an absent father who took advantage of the wealth tacked onto his last name. His mother seized control of all financial aspects long before her husband expired, she evidently wore the pants in their relationship, and it was an unspoken truth in the household. 

In the seventeen years of his life, he and his eldest brother Grayson were entrapped by Amelia’s torrential competitiveness engulfing the brothers and while their bond suffered from such meddling, his relationship with every member of his family would not have improved regardless for the unfortunate parental methods. There was his brother, throwing about snarky side comments and refusing to stand up to their mother, their mother as a whole who mildly terrorized her children in a way that she played oblivious to, and dear old dad became the male socialite on steroids. Archie reminded himself of this as he lingered about the moderate length of the room, his fingers gliding along the smooth mahogany surface of the ornate desk.

“You should not be in here, Archibald.” The teenager’s gaze slowly lifted to meet his mother’s, whose form hovered in the doorway with her hands properly folded behind her back. That was the word to describe the woman, proper. Proper clothes, proper hair, proper posture, everything about her screamed frustratingly perfect and unkempt. It was a miracle how she fell in love with a husband farthest from flawlessness. “I needed a moment. Dad’s too dead to care.” His father’s funeral wake shoved Archie to his emotional limits. The shaking of hands and condolences, every lie spilling from the lips of those who pretended as if they painted a doting image of his father, disgusting. One more reeking pile of a bullshit story and he would have set the mansion ablaze. “Where’s Grayson?”

“Downstairs entertaining our guests where you are meant to be.” Amelia tensely replied, taking a few steps into the room, frowning at the work that will need to be done packing the rest of her husband’s belongings for storage. Or simply tossing everything in the trash saved her the trouble. “You needed a moment, right? Is that why I found a packed suitcase under your bed?” Her eyebrow lifted as her son’s briefly dropped and even if Archie experienced no shame hiding the evidence of his immediate escape not a single day that his father’s corpse had been in the ground, he was slightly guilty at himself for not concealing his post-funeral plans smarter. “As soon as the meaningless charade of a wake is over, I’m leaving.” Archie nonchalantly dropped the knowledge as his fingers wrapped around the carbon copy of the family portrait that was currently hanging above the living room’s fire place on the first level. All smiles, nothing screamed imperfect, though, the ten year old version of him could hide the almost dead look in his eyes. Something...unnerving.

“Excuse me?” The woman’s eyes narrowed into small slits, turning her nose up at the mere prospect of her son believing he possessed the nerve to leave home, “You’re not of age yet, Archibald, what would you possibly know of supporting yourself after the reliance this family has given you?” She spoiled her children, or more so their wealth spoiled them for her, but she prepared the boys for this cruel harsh world. Archie the most selfish, the most pampered of them all. “You are not leaving and shirking your responsibilities.”

“Yes, I am.” Archie placed aside the frame he was holding, feeling the same flare of rage tickling the surface of his subconscious. “School is finished, Father’s no longer stealing from my savings, and now there’s nothing left for me here.” Not to mention, his newfound career path Archie chose for himself. All it took were the right people to fall in step with, the right contacts providing the resources mandatory for blossoming the seed of a thought planted by those who uncovered extraordinary potential. He never picked up a gun before this, but now the weight it carried in his hand and tucked in the back of his suit pant waistband felt eerily natural. “Tragically heartbreaking as it is to confess, Mother, the thought of taking over your business would’ve certainly colored me envious for Father’s fate.”

Amelia pressed a hand to her chest at the young male’s statements, appalled by his ever careless nature and unsurprised at the brutal honesty. Speaking ill-will of the dead? She taught him better. “As willing as you are to erase the existence of your own family, my boy, you still live under my roof. The food you eat down to every last expensive article of clothing gracing your entire person is from the generosity of the high class I have dropped in your ungrateful hands. As this is my rules, my house, I am within my right to speak freely when I say,” Her chin slightly tilted, “You are not going anywhere, Archibald. Your attitude lately, for one, has been without a doubt the most unacceptable.” The woman scoffed, “You’ve been distant, distracted, you must take me for the fool when you believe I have not noticed when you sneak away at all ungodly hours of the night. It ends tonight, Archie. And quite frankly-”

“And you choose now of all days to share your complete truthful opinion.” The young male cut his mother’s statement short with a flourish of his hand, “When you have spent almost two decades of my entire life throwing me no more than manipulative lies and scrutiny.” Archie wouldn’t normally allow his temperament to graze the surface for the entertainment of the Devereaux matriarch, much less shatter the self-contained gentlemanly bearing, but Amelia knew what to speak, how to portray her attitude, to rile her child. “If you have something, anything to say, now is the time, Mother, because I guarantee you will not receive another chance as soon as the sun rises when I am gone tomorrow.” 

“You want honesty? No matter how harsh?” Amelia pressed a finger to her lip, mulling through the dozens of thoughts once remained unspoken. Her son’s curt nod forced the woman to continue, “I knew from the moment you were born, there was always something wrong with you, Archibald. You were too quiet as a child, too calm, too everything that should not have been possible of someone your age. You were cold to others, a difficulty empathizing, and while the latter trait I thought was an inheritance from your family lineage, you lack a filter and an unwillingness to make friends. And even with such a cutthroat heartless state, you were and are still a disappointment.” It might’ve been cruel and unjust, but he asked for honesty and honesty he shall bare, “I tried, for years, I tried preparing you and your brother for the lifetime that has been handed to you, but you’ve failed every expectation. You are selfish, conniving, arrogant, it is no wonder you have no stable relationships, no girlfriend or what have you. It’s not how a Devereaux acts. I detest saying this so openly, darling,” She paused, the regret she might experience later not bothering her the slightest, “I’m almost ashamed to call you my son.”

Archibald made the assumption she would back down from sharing a scrap of integrity and brush the conversational topic aside before leaving him to his devices, yet, she spilled seventeen years’ worth of what has remained bottled away for appearance’s sake. It all made perfect sense, the competitiveness, the silent dinners, the snide insults veiled by criticism, she hated him. Amelia did not need to express such, which was pointless attempting to spare his emotions when she shared the knowledge he couldn’t feel, but she one hundred percent hated his guts with every fiber of her being by the opinion he clutched closely. He heard nothing but the shrill ringing in his ears, saw nothing but flashes of his childhood memories pass his gaze as if someone pressed the fast forward button. Archie suddenly felt his hand reaching around, could feel his fingers encapsulate the cool metal of the gun hidden in his waistband, and only realized the gravity of his actions the second he heard the click of the gun’s hammer. The barrel...pointing straight at the woman who bore him into this world. “I was never enough for you.” His hand shook faintly even though he tried steadying it.

Amelia watched as her youngest son’s expression warped before her very eyes. She anticipated dismissal or even a slather of sarcasm to conceal how greatly her opinion mattered whether or not Archie faked his disinterest. Just as he preferred dismissing the can of worms he tore at the seams, the woman flickered her attention to fixing the watch clasped to her wrist. She noted the late hour and the awaiting guests missing the grieving widow’s presence before a small clicking sound caused Amelia to raise her head slowly, heart instantly pounding the moment she collided face-to-face with the barrel of a gun. “You wouldn’t pull the trigger, Archibald.” Her voice wavered and the man seemed to take satisfied joy in that, “Doesn’t change the truth and you know it.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Archie dropped his index finger to the trigger, hammering in his point, “I mean, you have granted me the perfect ammunition, Mother. It’s what we call a motive.” He tightened the grip on the weapon’s handle and barked a dark sound from the back of his throat that was closely reminiscent of a laugh, “What parent pits her children against each other, hm? You have done nothing but confirm time and time again the real culprit why I’ve consistently felt even crazier than I thought I already was. I have never once apologized for who I am or how I am, but since you are so determined to cast me as a monster, here I stand.”

“A monster.” Amelia mocked the use of the term. “This earth is crawling with competition, my dear, anyone believing playing fair achieves their dreams are inadequate buffoons.” She slid her foot backwards in the door’s direction and, in spite of how miniscule the movement was created, Archie’s teachings displayed the tools to spot when a target came close seizing an escape opportunity. Her confidence never diminished, “Blood alone will not establish my safety, but one fact certainly does.” 

Archie breathed a chuckle devoid of all humor and care in the world, “Then give me a single good solid reason why I shouldn’t extinguish the one person who has slashed at every part of who I’ve become and carelessly laugh while I bled.” The woman was a walking terror at times and while he couldn’t recall her revealing any gesture of motherly kindness, she never deserved the privilege of children. If kids would ever enter his story in the near future, as any god lurking out there is his witness, they will never endure what he has suffered with either a hellbent competitive parent nor an absentee father. “A bullet solves everything. A bullet saves my life, my freedom. You think I’m the selfish one, Mother, it is no wonder where I learned it from. Finally, you have taught me something useful. So, I ask again,” He hissed, “Give me a fucking good reason.”

The tip of Amelia’s mouth quirked, “You are weak, Archie. Weak like your father.” Her piercing stare hovered from the gun her son was holding and landed on Archie’s expression, adrenaline kicking in almost instantly. She was frightened, oh yes, her facial features revealed nothing damning that could be used as an advantageous upper hand, but facing death was troublesome, “Why do you believe he slept with every living creature in this city, pet, has that crossed your mind? I haven’t the faintest clue what deep trench of an underworld you have dug yourself in, Archibald, but you’ve sealed a fate that’s promised your worst fear. Loneliness.” Amelia paused for melodramatic effect, “Despite what you feel about me or your brother, butchering your own family means you’ll truly be alone in this cesspool. No one will love you. So, go right ahead,” She stepped forward cautiously, “Do it. Solve your problems at my expense.”

Archibald could feel his confidence slipping quickly, willing his physical state not to follow suit, forcing the memories of the wisdom imparted on him by others who introduced the young male to a dream career engaging in his darkest fancies. Kill her, kill her, kill her, a voice from somewhere screamed blaringly. Squeeze the trigger and the pain disappears, as if it were that simple. Killing his mother had not crossed his mind before, though, its presence and the formulating euphoric rush couldn’t surprise or scare him. He realized a split second too late the hands wrapped around the gun were wobbling uncontrollably as his head rationalized between two battling arguments. Pull the trigger, don’t pull the trigger, the racing thoughts produced a maddening result. No one loved him, did he want love? How can he when he could not feel it? Couldn’t feel anything? One night stands came and went, meaningless dalliances, but nothing lasted. Not that the youngest Devereaux allowed the progression.

In the end...Archie shakily lowered the firearm.

“See?” Amelia cracked the silence emanating in the middle of mother and child. Placing one foot in front of the other, the desk was the only object within that office standing between them. “Your pride and vanity will be your greatest weakness, Archibald. While the one faithful enough to count on the most is yourself, paranoia is a downfall capable of destroying all chances to pass on our family name.” Archie turned away from her, watching his mother pick him apart from the corner of his eye, “Choosing what you think is right will be a path you travel alone. You and I both know how this story ends, boy,” The woman carelessly waved her hand to the side and spun on her heel as she sauntered towards the door, “You dead and no one here to pick up the pieces. Nor I or your brother will.”

“You’re wrong.” Archie’s voice sliced the everlasting din, his gaze dropping to the gun in his hands. Amelia grinded to an abrupt halt as the male continued, “You may have needed me, needed Grayson, to resume our lineage, but I have never needed you.” The words were venom on his tongue. He attempted playing the role of dutiful son, he spat his complaints, threw about sarcastic remarks without a care in the world, but Archibald faced a resolution and he would not stray the road ahead. He cannot turn back now, not when he has come this far for any other alternative. “I’m done.” Archie traced a circled path around the desk and gravitated towards the door.

“Archibald,” His mother’s voice caused the young male to pause in his tracks as soon as he passed her, “When this power trip of yours fails, you will come crawling home begging for my forgiveness.” The statement caused a harsh laugh to flee from the teenager’s lips the minute it reached his ears. “No, Mother,” He partially turned, “you will be begging for mine watching the disappointment you raised make a name others only dare whisper. And for once, I’ll take it one way or another.” Archie didn’t bother wasting the energy drinking in his mother’s likely appalled expression as he reached the doorway. Archie was nothing if not a dramatic little bastard, that isn’t falsified knowledge, but to stand on the precipice holding the match as every bridge he possessed torched before his eyes, well...so shall it be his reality. “Send Grayson my regards.” Directing one last comment for the only living parent he had, Archibald disappeared from the room.

[beauregardlionett]

as the morning sun rose

AO3 Link

It’s raining.

For half a moment, thoughts sleep addled, she thinks she’s back in Kamordah. The pleasant weight of a body next to her registers as Tori before it all comes back to her.

Beau gives a soft huff into the silence of yet another inn bedroom, staring through the darkness at the vague outline of the rafters on the ceiling as she comes to terms with the fact that she will not be falling asleep again soon. The rain drums a steady pattern against the windowpanes, a very distant rumble of thunder rolling over Beau’s senses. It should soothe her, should be enough to lull her back to sleep, but it isn’t.

The storms always bring about the chance of absence, of spiriting away the warmth that is occupying the bed beside her.

The inn’s bed isn’t necessarily big enough to host both Yasha’s broad shoulders and Beau’s wiry build, but they make it work. They make do with tangled legs and heads pillowed on shoulders and hip bones knocking through sleep clothes. Tonight finds Beau’s right calf between both of Yasha’s while Beau sprawls on her side, head cushioned against Yasha’s clavicle with her face turned up to the roof.

She’s comfortable, but she’s antsy—itching to get up and pace around. It’s not truly an inability to sleep, but that she’s too afraid to fall asleep again, lest she wake up and find Yasha missing from bed.

Beau sighs once more, starting to shift her position in miniscule movements as she tries to assuage whatever restlessness is born from her apprehension.

“Beau?” Yasha’s soft voice cuts through the thrum of rain and the otherwise quiet. “Are you awake?”

Shit.

“Yeah, sorry if I woke you.”

“I was already awake,” Yasha murmurs, arm beneath Beau’s head shifting so that her calloused fingers can trace lazy patterns on the bare skin of Beau’s lower back.

She shivers at the touch, still somewhat unaccustomed to being handled like she’s worth something—with care. The monastery hadn’t been harsh and distant like her parents, but they hadn’t coddled her either. They preached in learning by doing, and Beau was just the lucky son of a bitch who had already been well acquainted with pain by the time she was under their discipline.

Yasha’s warm hands, rough and weathered from countless hours wielding her great sword, brandished the softest touch that Beau had ever experienced. She had before spent several hours wondering if it was born of practice with handling the delicate flowers pressed between the pages of her book.

“What are you thinking about?”

Beau kept staring at the ceiling, her focus on the pads of Yasha’s fingers against her skin. She fixated on the grounding touch, the sound of the rain on the windows, the earthy and rain-soaked smell that Yasha seemed to carry everywhere.

“I don’t know,” Beau answered, eyes lost in the dim. She felt Yasha shift under her, turning to study the monk at her side curiously.

“You don’t know what you’re thinking about?”

“Yeah,” Beau breathed, fingers twisting absent folds in Yasha’s tunic. “My thoughts are kinda scattered right now. I’m exhausted, but I can’t fall asleep.”

“Maybe…if you said your thoughts out loud? It would help?” Yasha’s voice was quiet, hesitant. Beau could hear the catch in the other woman’s tone, the uncertainty of her own idea, like it might be rejected, shot down. Not only was that something Beau would never do, but that did sound like a good idea. Normally, she was the last person alive who would share her thoughts, but she trusted Yasha with them, knew that she wouldn’t handle them carelessly. Unbidden, she pictured Yasha’s warm, weathered hands cupped around Beau’s cheeks as she made sense of Beau’s incoherence, gentle and protective, and shuddered minutely.

Yasha’s hold tightened just a little. Beau spoke up before the inevitable, “are you okay?”

“I like having someone else in the room with me. Back uh…back in Kamordah, Tori and I would share a bed a lot, y’know? I would sneak her into my parents’ house just to have someone with me at night, or we would crash at an inn—anywhere that had a bed, really. That’s why it was so easy to take Jester up on her offer of sharing rooms every time we ended up in an inn on the road. And now uh…with you it’s the same, but it’s different?”

“In what way?” Yasha was still so quiet, her fingertips still tracing aimlessly over the slopes and divots of Beau’s back.

“Less like Jester and more like Tori, but also…also different from Tori?” Beau paused, thoughts far too jumbled to form into words that made any semblance of sense. Yasha waited out the silence with her.

“With Tori it felt a little like a performance, y’know? I really liked her—I loved her—but I also looked up to her. I felt like I had to live up to this criminal persona I built with her, even though it wasn’t entirely who I wanted to be. I mean a big part of it was who I was, but it wasn’t what I wanted to be?” It sounds like a question, but they both know there’s no answer to it, so Beau plows on and Yasha lets her, steady and stalwart.

“But here with—with you and the Mighty Nein, you all know the most honest version of me, so it feels…real. I feel real.”

“Is that a good thing?” Yasha whispers against Beau’s temple, and Beau could cry for how easily Yasha seems to understand her. Most people would hear Beau say she felt real and assume it was something worth celebrating. But Beau had spent so much of her life existing as a false entity that being given the chance to be authentic was terrifying and unknown.

“I want it to be, and I think it is. I’m still trying to figure out if…if the real me is a good person.”

“I think you are,” Yasha says almost immediately, her delivery so simple, automatic, and straightforward that Beau knows she isn’t lying. It sweeps her breath from her lungs and she can’t stop the hitched half-sob that breaks from her. Yasha’s arm stiffens slightly, likely afraid she said something wrong, but Beau chokes out a response before the Aasimar can get too lost in that assumption.

“Thank you.”

Yasha softens at her side and lips brush against Beau’s shaven hairline with a quiet, “of course, Beau.”

“Don’t go,” Beau chokes out, fingers already tangled in Yasha’s tunic tightening further.

The other woman pulls back a little, likely staring down at the monk curled against her. Beau’s gaze has yet to stray from the darkened ceiling above them; too afraid to move and break whatever spell of solitude they have hanging over them.

“Why would I go?”

“The storm,” is all Beau can manage.

Yasha quiets, her fingers going still against Beau’s back, and the monk hates herself for bringing it up. Beau worries that, since they’ve acknowledged it, Yasha might just go now. She would drift away like a storm cloud on the wind, carried to wherever her god bids her and return only when the thunder does.

But instead of the careful detachment that Beau expects, Yasha’s grip around her tightens, even as the other woman rolls to reach for something over the edge of the bed. Beau fights the urge to grip onto the Aasimar, beg her to stay, because she knows that no matter what she says, Yasha will have to leave regardless. If the Stormlord bids it, Yasha does not ignore him.

She’s just begun to prepare herself to say goodbye, to resign herself to sleepless nights, waiting for thunder and rain and flashes of lightning, when something warm and heavy settles around her. She blinks and pulls her tunneling vision away from the ceiling for the first time and looks down. Yasha is smoothing something over her, something thick and large that smells faintly of the Aasimar at her side.

It takes a moment for Beau to realize with a jolt, it’s Yasha’s shawl.

Her eyes snap to Yasha and Beau finds herself breathless at the sight of the celestial in the darkness. Her pale skin seems to glow in the dim, the white ends of her hair a stark contrast against her dusky tunic where the dreads and braids splay across her chest. Yasha’s mismatched eyes flash like lightning as Beau searches the Aasimar’s expression for…something.

Beau’s in the process of trying to get her mouth working to remind Yasha that she had once said she never takes off her shawl, when the other woman beats her to speaking.

“This is my promise that I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

The shawl’s weight suddenly feels a little heavier, a little more significant where it’s snug over Beau’s shoulders. She knows that this means something, likely does not understand the true depth and breadth of it yet, but understands enough. She settles further beneath the warmth of the fur and presses her face more firmly against Yasha’s shoulder, breathes her in. Yasha shifts, turning a little more onto her side so she can wrap both arms around Beau and press the monk just that much closer.

Beau’s nose fills with the smell of rain-soaked earth, sweat, and ozone—all of it distinctly Yasha and immensely comforting. She can feel the Aasimar’s heartbeat against her cheek and hear the steady drum of rain against the window waltzing with the dip and swell of Yasha’s even breaths. It’s a symphony of senses that sends Beau easily off to slumber.

When she wakes in the morning, the storm is long gone. Yasha is asleep at her side, and the shawl still tucked around Beau’s shoulders.

[marshthat-ships]

The jedi council scene from s02e09 clone wars but angsty otp version

Grievous let out a harsh laugh. The crimson-coloured hologram vanished, but before the image completely disappeared, another heart-tearing moan of his zabrak prisoner cut through the crackle of the electrical discharges.

As Ahsoka, accompanied by several yonger Jedi knights and a group of younglings, left the hall, the masters exchanged heavy glances.

"After engaging Grievous we lost contact with master Koth," Adi Gallia said, looking around at everyone present, voicing a common thought. “But we didn't expect it to turn out like... this." “Monster! He’s a monster!” gasped someone.

“Where to find Grievous the question remains,” the Grand Master Yoda raised his head, as if trying to listen to the Force. “Help master Koth we should.” The others also concentrated, searching for answers in it. But to no avail. Koth's presense in the Force was so faint that there was no way to define it properly, let alone state the Jedi master’s current location. "See master Koth do you, master Windu?" Yoda asked, turning to Mace Windu, who was standing by his side. “A stronger bond with him than the rest of us you have. In a Concordance of Fealty you two did engage.” “No, master.” For a split second in the eyes of the korun there was almost physical pain, but then he quickly pulled himself together and returned his usual reserved expression to his face. If a lie could be defined by the color of a lightsaber, Windu's blade at this moment would have turned so pure scarlet that no Sith could match it. But the hilt of his saber was still at his belt. Only in the master's mind, secretly to anyone else, there was a whirl of emotions. Not his feelings — his own thoughts now seemed to him only a faint breeze against the raising storm. Mace’s mind was full of muffled but still painful emotions of Eeth Koth. Master Yoda was certainly right about the Concordance — this unique Force-bond between the zabrak and the korun, created along with the traditional exchage of the lightsabers, was even tighter than the one of a master and his apprentice. And now, even despite the mental shield that Windu had thoughtfully shut to keep himself from shouting out loud in fron of the Council, this Force-bond was bleeding tears and vibrating with the vague echo of Eeth’s burning pain. And as Mace slightly lifted the shields to slide his mind along their connection towards the captive Jedi, their bond literally burst in subtle sobbing waves, making Windu’s heart ache. Somewhere far away, the zabrak hung limp in the humming energy cuffs, barely holding on to the edge of fainting. His presence in the Force was so dim that even when straining all his senses, Windu could only feel a vague silhouette of Eeth. Mace took a deep breath, so as not to betray his emotions in front of the others, and sent along their connection the warmest wave he could, hoping that it would reach its goal. He could see Eeth. But there was nothing he could do to help. Not him, not even the masters who all were looking at him now. The korun couldn't tell where master Koth was being held. All he got were some confused images of Grievous's metal claws on the cream-coloured tunics, the blue flashes of MagnaGuard's electric staff, Eeth struggling to breese under the steel grip, his eyes wide open and wet with tears... All he felt was emotions. And emotions like that were not greeted by the Jedi teachings. And so he had to evade the question, feeling doubly disgusted with himself — first, because he, Mace Windu, a role model for many members of the Order, allowed himself to lie straight to Yoda's face. And second — for the fact that the one for whom he sacrificed his honor and his honesty, his fragile, tender lover, this lie wasn’t helping in any way. "The Force is too weak around master Koth," the korun muttered. “That's all I can say.” "Happy to hear that we’re not”, the green Grand Master leaned on his cane again, frowning. Suddenly, next to master Plo Koon one of his clone troopers appeared and whispered something to him, pointing at the holoprojector table. With a nod from the kel-dor, the clone disappeared, and master Koon voiced his observation. “Commander Wolffe has noticed a signal in the holotransmission. Play back the message.” Once again, the zabrak's face, twisted with agony, appeared right in front of master Windu's eyes. His sharp gaze could not help noticing every detail that ruined Eeth’s long familiar and loved features: the way the zabrak's eyes rolled up when he craned his neck as the MagnaGuard’s staff hit his back; how he clenched his teeth, but moans still escaped from his lips; how his once neatly braided dark hair was now sweeping the floor under the feet of his tormentor; how swollen and darkened his left eyelid was; how the blood glistened on his upper lip — Grievous must have punched him in the face right before recording this message… “Look, hand signals!” Anakin exclaimed. They all looked where he was pointing — the fingers of master Koth's left hand were rapidly moving, forming some shapes. What somebody could mistake for convulsive spasms after the electrocution, and what was actually a code in an old sign language. As master Kenobi leaned forward to the hologram, Mace sent a wave of his sincere pride for the zabrak into the Force, and then — another one of a reassuring determination. "Hold on, Eeth. We'll save you," pushed Windu gently along their bond. "Just a little longer, my love," he added after a moment, looking around warily to see if anyone had noticed anything. In response, something very, very pale and almost undefinable came back to the Jedi master. Obi-Wan had just decoded the coordinates. And was the first to volunteer to Saleucami system, where, apparently, general Grievous’ flagship was located. Skywalker Immediately joined his decision, willing to finish off Grievous once and for all. The participation of master Gallia was less predictable — but Windu didn't object. He had a feeling that this time the battle with the Separatist General would not be an easy one. The korun would have so liked to leave everything and go with them to where master Koth — his dear Eeth — was desperately calling for help. The Force-bond was still silently crying. Eeth was in terrible pain and no matter how good a Jedi he was, it took a truly titanic effort of will and increadible strength to endure what the zabrak had been subjected to. Master Koth didn’t show his weaknesses to Grievous — but he let go all the emotions in the Force, where only Windu could hear him, the only one to whom Eeth trusted his real feelings. And Mace, experiencing along with the zabrak every electrical discharge that went through his body, wanted so so much to put Eeth out of his misery, to hug him, to comfort him, to kiss away all his pain, to promise that he would never again let something so awful to happen again... But he couldn’t. Unfinished buisness in the Temple here, on Coruscant, required his personal presence, and the korun, with a heavy heart, had to push away Eeth’s muffled sobs to the back of his mind and to accept himself being incapable of doing anything right now. Attachments were forbiden — as was the desire to put one’s feelings over the needs of the Order and the Republic. “So be it,” Yoda concluded, approving the members of the rescue party. “Go, you now may.” Mace also bowed stiffly, trying his best to keep his face expressionless. But deep inside he was silently pleading the Force, the stars, anything to make the rescue mission succeed. “May the Force be with you.“

[smalltowndetective]

1, 17 and 22 for any detective of your choice for the detailed oc ask (no rush to answer, take your time, especially if you're busy 💕)

Hello! Thank you so much for asking, you’re the best! Sorry this is late! 

So, since I am a massive name nerd, I’m going to answer 1 for each of my detectives, and then I’ll answer one detective for the other two! 

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?

Thea Annaliese Holland (romances Felix): Now, something that is probably good to mention that I spend way too long on my detectives before even playing the game haha. I spent forever on trying to figure out names for them that fit their character, and Thea is no exception. I spent a while with her first name actually being Theadora and Thea being her nickname (I might bring this back for a reincarnation AU later) But Thea by it self fit her better? It has that lighter feel to it, less regal-sounding, and it suits her much better. Thea is the Anglicized version of Theia, the Greek goddess of light, so I really liked that as well. Middle name took me forever to figure out, since Thea is not an easy name to figure a middle name for, but I came across Annaliese, and it really fit her. Meaning “grace” and the softness of it is just really pretty to me. And for poor Thea, I did so much planning for her character before playing her route for the first time, wrote so many notes on her about everything under the sun, to just forget that I needed to give her a surname haha! So, with no idea what exactly to do, I used a random name generator, and wouldn’t you know it, the first one that I got back was Holland, which I really liked how Thea Holland sounded, so I went with it. 

And while I suppose that’s why I choose it, but I suppose I can tell a little bit about why Rebecca and Rook choose it as well. Kind of along the same vein as me, I have Rebecca wanting to use the full form of the name, while Rook wanting to shorten it, thinking the full name sounded slightly too regal for his tastes. Obviously, Thea won out in the end, and that is now her full name. :)

Natasha Kate Trexler (romances Adam): Now, for Natasha I just really just really liked Natasha as a first name, something about it just sounding right (Natasha means “born on Christmas Day” actually, but she was born in late spring haha!) It’s slightly harsher then Natalia, my first thought for what to name her,  and it fit her much better with her as a name. And, back when I played the game originally, I had her nickname be Nat, but I do know how confusing that Adam and Nat looks to everyone else, so I’ve decided to avoid using it in the future haha! (Natasha isn’t the type to really use nicknames anyway, but I do personally think that once we actually get to deep relationship Adam, he would be the only person who calls her so) For her middle name, I forgot there was technically a Kate already in the story, (Garret Hayes’s mother) but since it was a middle name that won’t be mentioned ever, I decided to stick with it. Kate means “pure” and I really liked it instead of using a longer form like Katherine. And for her surname, Trexler is a surname from German origin, and it means “turner” believed to be referring to a wheelwright (Rook in Natasha’s route is from German descent) 

And for how Rook and Rebecca choose the name, with Rebecca in this route being from Russian descent, that is how Natasha was originally decided on in the first place, with Kate a compromise between the two of them for something slightly softer. :)

Pearl Evelyn Reid (romances Nate): Since Pearl was my first detective (that’s a bit of a surprise I’m sure haha) I didn’t actually think of her name much before the game, since well, I had never played any interactive fiction at all before and it wasn’t something that I realized that I would want to do. But I do really like the name anyway. Pearl is obviously just a gem name for the well, actual Pearl, and it is kind of an old-timey name, which kind of suits her really well. Pearl is very tech focused skill wise, but she also has a vintage decorated apartment, so the different in those two has always been something that I have liked about her. Her middle name, Evelyn (which I choose for) means “desired, wished for” and also “water” which they both kind of fit. Pearl loves the ocean (I’ve always put Wayhaven as a seaside town) and it’s something that she has always been very special to her. (Nate’s hesitance to it makes her pause, but she hasn’t asked him much about it yet) (And I like the desired, wished for meaning as well, because I do think that the three of them were a very happy family before Rook’s death) And with her surname, Reid apparently means Red (I wasn’t looking at meanings at the time, so not making her a red head was a bit of a oversight on my part haha!) I also really like how “Rebecca Reid” sounds as well!

And for Rook and Rebecca, Pearl always remind me of the novel Scarlet Letter, which the main character names her daughter Pearl, her mother’s “only treasure”, and this kind of relates into everything after Rook’s death. It’s slightly old-timely, but it was something that both of them liked a lot ( I do think of all the names, they probably were able to agree on this one the quickest haha!) :)

Mariana “Mari” Rebecca Gonzales (romances Mason): It took me forever to play Mason’s route for the first time, since I was really having a hard time finding a detective that I really liked that would work very well. In the end, I went with a very different detective then the others, and after a while, I really do like her. There are several meanings for Mariana, from “bitter” to “beloved” which again, kind of both fit her. Mariana never wanted to be a detective, and is very bitter about it and her mother’s absences, but even with that, she is beloved by the people in her life anyway. Mari is what she goes by when she can, the nickname more comfortable for her, hating the almost stiff formality of her full name. And of course, for angst reasons only, I used my detective with the absolute worse relationship with Rebecca her name as a middle. (Was going to do so for all my detectives, but I really like it just being her haha) Mari does avoid talking about her middle name for this reason, and is less then thrilled about it for that reason. Now, for the surname, Rook in Mari’s route is Spanish, so well it made sense to give her one with that heritage. It is a different spelling of Gonzalez, meaning “war” or “battle” and for my combat focused detective who wanted to join the military, it really fit.

And for Rook and Rebecca, it was important to them that Mariana had a name that tied her to her heritage, and Rebecca was the initial one who brought up Mariana as a name. Rook’s idea right back, (in only Mari’s route) was to give her Rebecca’s name as a middle name, another connection to her mother. It took her a bit, but she did agree, and that is now her name (regardless of Mari feels about it haha!)

(Going to put the rest of the answers under the cut!)

17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos?

Detective: Thea Holland (Felix)

I saw this question, and I couldn’t help not answer it for Thea, as much as I have talked about this recently haha! One of Thea’s hobbies is photography, and it something that she has done a lot of in the past few years leading up to Book 1. She loves to take pictures of just about anything in front of her, capturing that moment forever, but in Wayhaven, there are not many weddings, but she was been hired to do wedding photography a few times, which she always loves doing. Being able to give them memories of what (hopefully is!) one of the happiest days of their life is really special to her. (And Thea is also a huge hopeless romantic, so there is that to!) She has also done portrait pictures for the people of Wayhaven as well, and Thea is the closest you can get to a real photographer without having to go to the big city. She is not the biggest fan of selfies by herself, but with Felix? She’ll gladly do so. :) A lot of pictures that she takes do end up with the clients, but in her office, she does have framed pictures of the flowers around Wayhaven on the wall. And now as her and Felix are officially dating, perhaps there will be pictures of the two of them together in her office as well. :)

22. What are their favorite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

Detective: Natasha Trexler (Adam)

Natasha is probably not the best detective I have to answer this for, but I was reminded of something, and I don’t think I can avoid not mentioning this haha. She is incredibly stoic, and most insults she keeps in her head, a slight glare the only sign of what she is really is feeling. If you do annoy her enough, you might get a very flat insult, the harshness not hold back at all, no humor, just pure insult. And while there have been plenty of times where Adam has absolutely frustrated her, but she normally won’t say anything. But that time that he broke her plant, and then tried to say her office was cluttered? Natasha hates clutter with a passion, it not allowing her to focus, and her office is always immaculate, the only reason the plant in there was in the first place was because it was a gift from Tina. She would have not have put it in there otherwise. So, to hear Adam say that? If Nate wasn’t there, there would have been some few choice words that she thrown back into his face. And to the last question, Natasha hates gossip, so she does not talk behind anyone's back at all. If she doesn’t like you, you’ll know. 

[docharvard]

docharvard’s stardew mega modlist v.2

howdy doody everyboody!

my last modlist did pretty well with regards to notes, but there have been some major changes to both stardew and my modlist since then, so i thought it was high time i made a new one! once again, this is mostly graphical overhauls, with a few gameplay tweaks and cheats here and there. most of these mods are fairly popular, so chances are you would already know them, but i hope this compilation finds its use anyway. now, without further ado, the list starts under the cut!

one final warning before i proceed, as of today 21st of February 2020, some of these mod’s official releases do not work with Stardew 1.4.5, but they do have unofficial patches floating around on the forums that update them to work with this patch, and i will be linking to those instead of the official releases for those mods (you will need a chucklefish forums account to download them). if you see this in a few months or weeks time from when it is posted, it is probably in your best interests to check the official releases for updates.

ENGINES/PRE REQS most of, if not all, the mods on this list will require some combination of the following engines to run. i know nothing about coding, so i cannot give an apt description of what they do or how they work, but trust me, you will need them. if you don’t download all of the mods in this list, you might not need all of them, check the requirements segment on a mods nexus page to see which of these engines you will need to run it.

SMAPI - SMAPI is the modding API for Stardew, necessary for all modding (besides old xnb mods).

Content Patcher

Custom Critters

Json Assets

Mail Framework Mod

More Grass

PyTK

SpaceCore

TMXL Map Toolkit

QUALITY OF LIFE mods that don’t change the game significantly, but slightly improve the base mechanics to make it easier/better.

Auto Animal Doors - automatically opens all barn and coop doors at a set time every morning, and closes it once all animals are back inside at night.

Big Silo - increases the hay capacity of silos to around 200k.

Casks Everywhere - gives the player the ability to put casks anywhere, instead of only in the basement of the house.

Crop Transplant - gives the player the ability to move crops and trees without destroying them.

Mod Update Menu - puts a handy-dandy extra button on the main menu that shows you your modlist and whether any mods are out of date. clicking on a mod in the list will take you to its web page, if you want to download the updated version. (sometimes, like SMAPIs console, it is wrong. occasionally will tell you a mod is out of date when it isn’t, but is more often right than wrong.)

No Crows - removes crows, no more losing crops to those thieving corvid so-and-so’s.

No Fence Decay - fences no longer decay and break down over time. they stand for time immeasurable, like the monolith in space odyssey, or the empty shell of a blockbuster video.

Safe Lightning - lightning will only strike lightning rods, or if none are available, it will not strike at all.

Stack Everything - gives the player the ability to stack every item in the game, items like casks can now be stacked instead of having a 1:1 ratio in inventory/chest space.

UI Info Suite - ui overhaul(ish) that adds things like being able to see if you’ve pet an animal that day, whether the travelling merchant is in town, what your luck is for the day, or how many days a crop/keg has until it’s finished, etc. this mod is a must have for any playthrough, even if you’re going completely vanilla. possibly the most useful mod that exists for stardew.

GAME TWEAKS things that add mechanics or change gameplay. immersion (i don’t know what else to call it)

Babies Take After Spouse - makes your children actually look like the offspring of your chosen spouse. also adds some more outfits for toddlers, if you’re into that.

Canon Friendly Dialogue Expansion - adds a metric buttload of new dialogue for all of the friendable characters, in case you’re sick of seeing the same four sentences on loop.

Cat Gifts - bit of a misnomer, makes your pet (either cat or dog) occasionally bring you gifts of random items. it’s pretty darn cute.

Climates of Ferngill - expands the games weather system, as well as tweaking the original one, to add new things like fog, and weather that changes over the span of a day instead of being one set thing.

Eemie’s Bees - adds bees! they hang around your beehives! very cute!

Lunar Disturbances - adds a rad lunar system to the game, including an overhead moon that goes through phases. also adds stuff like eclipses and blood moons.

Mizu’s Flowers - adds so many new flowers to the game. frankly, it’s quite homophobic how few variations are in the base game.

Oasis Greenhouse - completely reworks the greenhouse to be way bigger (on the inside, it doesn’t take up more space on the actual farm) and have more rooms in which to do greenhouse things, like spots to grow trees.

Seasonal Villager Outfits - stardew residents will now change clothes on the reg, including during different events, depending on the weather, and with the seasons.

Slime Hutch Winery - retextures the slime hutch to look Not Garbage, and adds a customisable inside space that you can combine with Casks Everywhere to make a usable winery.

cheats there is only one mod in this section but i couldn’t figure out what other section to put it in.

CJB Cheats Menu - it’s a cheats menu. for cheating. amongst normal cheaty things like infite health and stamina, gives you the ability to increase your movement speed, and harvest crops with a scythe, which i find immensely useful.

AESTHETIQUE who needs the orignal graphics when you’ve got soft pastel versions? most of these are by elle, aka junimods. she’s good at aesthetic overhauls, sue me.

Bathroom Replaces Spouse Room - replaces the spouse room with one of three nicer looking bathrooms, in case your spouse has decided to have an unchangeable hideous colour scheme that does not go with the rest of your house, like all of them do.

Better Artisan Goods - retextures the artisan goods (milk, cheese, fruits, etc) to look prettier/more accurate.

Elle’s Cat Replacements - highly customisable cat retexture, including fur patterns, and the colour of its collar.

Elle’s Critter and Butterfly Replacements - retextures the little critters and butterflies that hang around the valley.

Elle’s Dog Replacements - same as the cat replacements but for dogs. the nomenclature is difficult to grasp, i know.

Elle’s New Barn Animals - retextures of all the barn animals, with a whole bunch of customisation options to choose from for each.

Elle’s New Coop Animals - same as the barn animals one. shocker.

Elle’s Seasonal Buildings - highly customisable retexture of all the buildings on the farm. pick from a bunch of designs and colour palettes to make your farm the best representation of you it can be. or don’t, i’m not your dad, i can’t tell you what to do.

Flippsie’s Alternative Lamp Posts - retextures lamp posts to look a little more victorian and aesthetic-y.

Garden Variety UI - customisable ui colours! let’s you customise the look of all the menus, inventory bar, etc, from a buuuunch of different colours and designs.

Industrial Kitchen and Interior - retextures the kitchen appliances and benches to a softer aesthetic.

Starblue Valley - reshades the whoooole of stardew to make it colour gooder. greens are more green, blues are more blue, and the whole game looks a lot less yellow and harsh. much softer and easier on the eyes.

Wildflower Grass Field - retextures and adds a bunch of variation to the grass that grows around the valley. instead of one grass texture everywhere, there is now over 50 possible combinations, really makes the whole place look much more realistic and varied.

Yellog’s Wood Craftables - retextures and redesigns the craftables (chests, beehives, kegs, cheese press, etc) to have a softer palette, with a rustic wooden aesthetic.

and that’s that folks! i also use these two harvey dialogue expansion packs, but that’s because he’s my favourite bachelor, so i kept them off the general list. i hope y'all found this modlist useful, sorry it took me so long to get around to making/updating it. thank you so much for all the followers on this newer sideblog of mine, it’s really cool to see other people enjoying a game that i love so much. catch y'all on the flipside! ^-^

[meganshinsou-tm]

old man. (f)

☙ pairing: izuku x reader

☙ theme:  pro hero deku/meeting the parents

☙  cw/tw: profanity, low-key anxiety, shitty parent, bullying from parental figure, comfort, slight mature content at end.

☙  a/n-request:  Deku goes to meet his S/O others parents for the first time and her dad is a DICK and makes all sorts of nasty comments, and even though she's used to it, it still bothers her. So after they awkwardly leave Deku decides to show her how beautiful, special and amazing she really is.

“Hey Zuku, if at any time you feel uncomfortable we can leave.”

Izuku’s green eyes blinked at you as you walked up the steps of your parents home together. He was slightly confused as to why he’d even feel uncomfortable at all. He was nervous, that was no lie. This was the first time he was meeting your parents, after the two and a half years of you dating. It took this long mostly because you simply refused to do so and your parents were also very busy people with their jobs. They would go from town to town and country to country, so they weren’t around much, making Deku and your friends the only family you had.

Izuku softly smiled and turned to you, taking your face in his scarred muscular hands and brushing your cheeks with his thumbs. “If they’ve raised such a wonderful daughter like you, then how bad could they be?”

You half smiled at your boyfriend, it wasn’t very convincing and not what he was expecting. The hero knew very little about how your parents acted but he would soon find out and along with that, he’d find out why you kept him from meeting them for so long. You swallowed harshly and touched Deku’s hand on your cheek, leaning forward and up on the tips of your toes to place a kiss to his cheek, making him smile and making you smile even bigger. 

The two of you had been dating since the middle of your 2nd year at UA and since then Deku really hit a growth spurt. He was tall and muscular, not too much like his mentor, more like a leaner version of him. After graduation the two of you moved into your own apartment together and everything was so wonderful. At least up until your parents made one of their monthly calls to you and Deku answered it obliviously. That immediately spurred a ‘meet the parents’ situation.

Izuku released your face and took your hand as you both faced the door and you lightly knocked on it. It took a minute but finally the door opened and there stood your mother. A relieved sigh left your lips and you relaxed, of your parents your mother was the one you tolerated the most and the one who wasn’t such – well an ass.

“My baby! You’ve gotten so big,” she cheered and quickly wrapped her arms around your neck.

You grunted from the force of her body colliding with yours, patting her back as you hugged and mentioned that your air supply was running short. She quickly withdrew from you but held your face in her hands as kisses peppered each cheek and her loving eyes looked you over.

“I can’t believe it’s been an entire year (Y/N), I missed you so much! You’re even more beautiful than ever, I can’t wait to hear about everything that has happened.”

You smiled and wrapped your hand around her wrist, “Thank you mom, I missed you too. Uh – I brought Izuku finally!”

Your mothers matching (e/c) eyes wandered over to your boyfriend as she squealed, her hands leaving your face as she held her arms open. Deku chuckled nervously and opened his own arms as your mother went in for the hug. When she pulled back she placed a firm pat to his chest.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you Izuku, you’re even more handsome than (Y/N) explained!”

“Oh – uh thank you Mrs. (L/N), it’s really nice to finally meet you as well!”

Your mom ushered the two of you inside finally. After removing your shoes the three of you walked into the lavish and open kitchen. Deku’s green eyes took in just how big and nice your family home was. He knew your parents were very wealthy and hard workers but he never figured they’d live so extravagantly. You were the complete opposite - very humble and modest. When looking for apartments you wanted something that was small and quaint. “I don’t need a big home to come to at the end of the day Zuku, I just need you,” were your exact words.

You motioned for Deku to sit down on one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter with you while your mom made everyone a glass of green tea. Your hand found Izuku’s under the counter and you pulled it to rest in your lap, he slightly smiled and brushed your skin with his thumb.

“So mom, where is he?”

“He?” Deku thought.

“Oh, your father is in his office on the phone, he should be out shortly. Dinner will also be done in a few minutes. Izuku do you like curry?”

Your boyfriend nodded eagerly and expressed his love for any kind of food. The three of you sat in the kitchen together, conversing and catching up. Deku informed your mother of the job he was taking at one of the best hero agencies in Japan while you decided on going to college to earn your medical degree. You did go to UA, but you weren’t in the hero course like Izuku, instead you were in the general studies department. Your quirk was more suited for healing and going the route of being a doctor was very fitting for you. How you ended up with one of UA’s top students and most promising upcoming pro-hero was beyond even you.

You smiled as Deku talked with your mother. They seemed to connect and hit things off, which was a massive relief to you. You weren’t exactly worried about your mother, it was your father you weren’t looking forward to seeing. That man was something else and someone that you could care less about. You only tolerated him because he was in fact still your father. He raised you in a nice home, gave you everything you needed, and made sure you went to the best school. He was a decent man but the way he showed you ‘love’ and ‘words of wisdom’, were somewhat harsh and just downright mean. You hoped that at least in the past year your father had some kind of revelation and changed his ways, but there was a fat chance of that happening.

The familiar sound of an office door opening and closing was heard, followed by thunderous footsteps walking into the kitchen. Your heart was pounding as you squeezed Izuku’s hand tight in your lap, cutting off his words and making him look at you with concern.

“Hey, you okay,” he asked and touched your face.

“Well, if it isn’t my only child. It took you long enough to finally come around again.”

That same nonchalant and cold voice that you despised so much and had the pleasure of not hearing for so long filled your ears and made you bite your lip in frustration. Deku turned to look behind the both of you where your father stood, casually scrolling through his phone and not granting either of you a single glance. Your boyfriend quirked a brow and let his hand fall from your face as you both stood from your seats. Deku sensed a weird tension between you and your father, making him protectively wrap arm around your waist.

“Oh great, you’re finally done! Look honey, (Y/N) brought over her wonderful boyfriend, Izuku Midoriya.”

The man before you locked his phone and placed it in his back pants pocket, attention now on you and Deku. His dark eyes scanned each of you closely and quirked a brow as he curled his lip.

“(Y/N), you couldn’t be bothered to wear something nicer? For god’s sake we haven’t seen you in so long and this is the first time we’re meeting this boyfriend of yours. You figured you’d have a little more pride in your appearance. Especially being that the one courting you in on his way to the top!”

You felt Deku’s hold on you tighten and his jaw clenched. Your hand came up and rested on his chest, making him look at you. A false smile grew on your face as you looked back at your father, greeting him politely along with introducing Izuku. The man walked up to you and Deku, there were definitely no hugs coming from him! Holding out a hand to your lover, Deku took it, his arm still around you.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. (L/N)”, he stated with a confident tone.

You were awed by how Izuku didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by your ‘doting’ father. He stood only a few inches taller than the green-haired man but still, your old man could make anyway shake in their boots, even men bigger than him. He was just scary to look at, his expression always devoid of any emotion and his tone deep and commanding. He was a bit bulkier than Deku and emulated power and hard worker.

“It’s nice to finally meet the future #1 hero, I never in a million years would’ve believed that my own kid would be the one to catch the eye of someone like you. What did she do, bribe you until you finally said yes,” your father chuckled.

Anger stirred inside of Izuku, his fingers holding your hip curling tighter. He was appalled by the mans statement, his own heart breaking that anyone, your own father, would assume such a thing. Another reassuring brush of your fingers over his chest had the dark storm in his eyes clearing, body going lax again.

“No sir, in fact, I’m the one that chased her. I was stunned and completely surprised when she agreed to go out with me. She was the top of her class and one of the most beautiful and genuine people that I’ve had the privilege of knowing, I’m lucky that I even got a chance with her before someone else came along.”

Before your dad could give another low blow, the kitchen timer went off. You looked over your shoulder to see your mother hold up her hands. 

“Foods ready!”

Dinner went over better than you thought it would, thankful for the food keeping everyone’s mouths occupied for the majority of it. After, your mother served dessert and your parents and Izuku talked back and forth. You’d only chime in if you were directly questioned and your responses were short and sweet, doing everything in your power to avoid any negative attention from your father.

“So, you got accepted into that college? Can’t say it’s the first choice I had for you. If you wouldn’t have grown lazy and worked harder on your combat training, then you could’ve easily made it into the hero course and eventually make the big bucks, instead of just settling for some mundane job. I guess you got lucky though, having such a promising hero fancy you. If you even happen to get lucky enough to marry him then you can just give up on your job like everything else and have him care for you huh?”

Izuku’s utensil slipped from his fingers as your dad blatantly insulted you. The entire night the man had done nothing but disrespect you and make you feel like utter shit and he was getting tired of it. Next to him you’d grow smaller and smaller in your seat from the numerous blows.

“Not everything is about money, and I’m not that kind of person,” you quietly replied looking down at your plate.

“You may not be the type that’s after money, but you are lazy. You’re my daughter, I would know,” your father chuckled and took a sip of his drink.

You didn’t reply at all. Only sat there looking so defeated and it broke Izuku’s heart. How could someone, your father, talk so terribly to you. He didn’t know the hard work and dedication you put into your studies at UA, the countless nights you went without enough sleep or adequate food. Deku would constantly have to remind you to take a break, to ‘be lazy’ once in a while. You were a hard worker, more than anyone in his own class, even him. The hero quickly realized the reason you kept him from your parents for so long, more so kept him from your father and he couldn’t help but feel responsible for you having to face them again. You were utterly embarrassed and broken down before him and he couldn’t take another minute of it.

“Hey sweetheart,” he spoke softly, hand resting on your thigh with a gentle squeeze, “How about we go home?”

You looked up and at Izuku, green eyes staring back with a serious and apologetic face. Not saying a word, you nodded and you both stood from your seats. Deku leaned over the table and shook your mother’s hand, thanking her for the wonderful food and for the kindness she had shown. Your father had yet to catch up on what was happening.

“Wait – are you two leaving so soon,” he asked standing from his chair.

Deku grabbed your hand and turned to face the poor excuse of a man and nodded.

“Yes sir, you see I refuse to sit here any longer and subject your daughter to anymore bullshit that falls from your mouth. Unfortunately I can’t say that we’ll ever have the pleasure of meeting again Mr. (L/N), I’m sorry. If you even care, you can rest assured that I will take care of your her. I’ll make sure she knows every single day just how amazing and beautiful she is. How incredible her skills and accomplishments are. I’ll remind her how lucky I am to have her, not the other way around. I’ll build her up and support every choice she makes! I can only hope to be lucky enough to call her my wife one day!”

You and your parents stood there in shock at Izuku’s words. The green-haired man turned on his heels, pulling you behind him without another word and you were both gone. The drive home was quiet, you were grateful for Izuku standing up and defending you but you were so ashamed and embarrassed by what he had to see. At least now he knew who your father was and understood why you never wanted to see him. Once you were home Deku walked over to your door and opened it. You gave him a sad look, making him try to muster up a smile as he touched your face.

“Hey beautiful.”

You didn’t know whether to cry or laugh so the sound you made was a mixture of both as you fell out of the vehicle and into Izuku’s arms. He held you close and tight burying his face into your hair as you buried yours into the crook of his neck. One of his large, protective hands rubbing your back in an effort to comfort you as he felt your body tremble with quiet cries.

“T-thank you Izuku. I love you so much.”

“You don’t have to thank me (Y/N), I only stated the obvious. We never have to see that man ever again if you don’t want to. I only ever wish to see you happy and it’s my responsibility to keep you safe, keep you happy and I’ll never let anything like that happen again.”

You nodded, face still buried into him and fingers not losing their grip on his clothes. This man was what kept you grounded all these years and what also kept you afloat from drowning.

“I love you, more than anything in this world, you’re the most precious thing in my life, please always remember that. Now, how about we get inside and I give you a bath?”

Pulling away from the hero, you smiled and kissed his freckled cheek. His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing and wiping away your tears.

“That sounds great Zuku.”

All throughout your bath, Izuku showered you in love and compliments. His hands pampered your entire body from head to toe - rubbing, massaging and cleaning. He always treated you like a princess before but now, you were being treated like a queen. You quickly forgot all about your asshole dad, like you always did. Soon you found yourself straddling Izuku’s lap in the bathtub. His hands running up and down your sides, making warm water cascade down your skin as you kissed each other feverishly.

You hummed as his lips left yours and started to press kisses down your jaw and neck, feather-light and sweet. Deku flattened his palms on the curve of your back, pulling you closer to him and making your chest press against his. As he kissed, his emerald eyes stayed opened to gaze at your damp skin and body, lashes softly tickling you. He kissed the valley between your breasts and pulled away to look you over.

“You’re so beautiful baby.”

You smiled, running your fingers through the soft green tresses you loved so much as Deku started to cup each of your breasts in his hands. His thumbs gently brushed over your nipples causing a delighted sigh to escape from your mouth. You looked down as he kissed and nipped at the mounds, kneading each one attentively. Memories flooded back of how your first time together Deku was a complete and utter mess, he held you close and spoke reassuring words even though he was beet red all over, stuttering and trembling. Over the years he learned your body and what made you unravel. He treated you with the utmost and unconditional love and care, making sure your needs were always met. Izuku was nothing but confidence now and you adored that most about him. He knew he could pleasure you and make you feel beautiful with his actions and words.

“Zuku, can we go to the bed? It’s a little cramped in here, you’re so massive.” You questioned breathlessly with a smile.

Izuku returned the expression and nodded, soon you both exited the tub and dried off. Quickly the male tossed you over his shoulder, making you squeal as he playfully smacked your ass and sprinted to the bedroom with you. He then slung you back over his shoulder and onto the bed, hovering over you and crawling in between your legs. Your hands reached up to cup Izuku’s face as you happily kissed each other. His lips lovingly enveloped yours, warm and soft as his hands caressed every inch of your body.

“Izuku, hold me please.” 

You requested soft and quietly, lip pouting out and sweet eyes blinking at him.

Immediately Izuku sat up on his knees, pulling you up with him. Your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck, hanging delicately from his shoulders. His arm wrapped around your back and pulled you close into his chest as his other hand held your thigh to his hip. You continued to kiss each other, Deku aching to show you his love and how beautiful he thought you were and you were eagerly accepting it all. His mouth trailed more loving kisses down your jaw and neck. Teeth dragging and nipping at the juncture of your collarbone. His shimmering green eyes looked up at you under his lashes as you caressed the freckles on his cheeks and he smiled at you.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you. Tonight, tomorrow night and for the rest of my life.”