#this post was brought to you by me being v sleepy but not really and so kinda chatty lol

[cornerihaunt]

.

[bangaveragewhitewine]

⋆⁺₊❅ meet the parents

single dad Eddie Munson x single mom Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: For my fourth and final fic of @littlexdeaths The Twelve Days of Promptmas, I bring you a romcom-worthy meet cute! A one-night stand in a small town is always a dangerous game.

Content: Eddie and Reader are both single parents. Modern AU. P in V and oral sex. Too many feelings for a one-night stand. Reader’s shitty ex mention. Small town dynamics. Light on Christmas, heavy on Eddie being a sexy menace. If you see any typos/messy sentences lmk!!

Just an extra little note to say the biggest THANK YOU to @littlexdeaths for putting together these wonderful Promptmas ideas, and for just being completely lovely and amazing too. I have had such a fun few weeks working on writing again, it’s been a crazy few months for me personally so this has been the best way to get back into writing and feeling creative again!! I’ve loved every minute ❤️

✨bang average festive fics✨ Eddie Munson fics ✨Dividers by @strangergraphics✨

It has been quite a few years since you woke up in a stranger’s bed. 

More used to the morning time routine of trying to get a sleepy six-year-old up and ready for the day, or the heartwarming feeling of said six-year-old making her way into your bed to cuddle on sleepy Sundays, you feel a little out of your depth this morning.

And some degree of hungover. 

But it could be worse, you supposed. The stranger’s bed was comfy and he had plenty of pillows for you to sleep on. His sheets were clean and he had not totally smothered you like a limpet all night, nor had he expected you to get up and leave while you were still catching your breath. He was a fairer bedmate than your daughter, and it was pleasant to wake up with the warm weight of his inked arm around you rather than a kid’s-size-twelve foot digging into your ribs, or her hair in your mouth. 

You sink into the comfort of it all, relishing that long-forgotten post-great-sex ache all over and the feeling of waking after a deep and dreamless sleep. You had not been this well-rested in almost seven years.

Next to you, he is asleep on his stomach with his arm across your middle. The room is dusky dark, but you can still make out the tattoos along his pale bare body and the glint of his nose ring, the spill of long dark hair piled up on his head. He is much softer now than when you met in the bar last night, no coy smirk or wolfish grin, no deep dimples on his cheeks. His whiskey eyes are still shut, and you feel warm all over when you remember how he had looked at you like you were the only woman in the bar, in the world, last night. How he had taken you home and taken you apart right here in his navy sheets. 

Carefully, trying not to wake the man next to you, you ease yourself up to check your phone.  It’s far too early to worry about picking Hazel up yet.

Not for the first time, you say a silent thanks to the universe for your neighbour for agreeing to babysit Hazel so that you could have a well-deserved Christmas night out with the friends you had made at work. You will bring her a nice hand-tied bouquet from the shop next week, just because. Without Claudia and her kindness to lean on, you know that going it alone in this small new town would so be much harder. It had been serendipitous really, moving in next door to an older and wiser woman who had been in the very same position as you when her son was not much older than Hazel. You begin piecing together the perfect bouquet for her, eucalyptus and rose and red ribbon, distracting yourself briefly from the dull ache in your head and the dry feeling on your tongue.

He brought you a glass of water before you fell asleep together. It’s cool in your throat, though it barely touches the sides of the discomfort pressing behind your brows. When the glass is mostly empty, you settle back next to him and let yourself doze for a little longer.

Eddie instinctively pulls you closer in his sleep, his warm morning breath tickling your shoulder and neck. You know it is just temporary, he is still a stranger, but let yourself enjoy the fleeting comfort while it lasts.

“Morning.”

His voice is rough and smoky, and there’s a tired smile waiting for you when you open your eyes a while later. You are struck by how pretty he is, handsome and hot but pretty with it; long dark lashes and doe-eyes, cheekbones to die for.

“Hi,” you whisper back. You feel yourself smiling back at him, feeling dreamy and oh-so-comfortable. You stretch your body out, relishing the rush of blood and oxygen to your muscles and your eyes drop closed again at that so-good feeling.

“Sleeping Beauty.” 

When Eddie kisses your hair, you miss how he closes his eyes and savours the moment; you are too busy basking in the unexpected tenderness of this one-night stand, the easiness of waking up slow with a man you met less than twelve hours ago. Even if it is just for this morning, you soak it up. 

“Mhmm. You have a comfy bed,” you whisper, looking up at him again. 

You brush your fingertips along his silver chain before tracing up to his jaw, past the tendrils of hair escaping his scrunchie. You know the feeling of that dark grown-out and nicely-maintained stubble, how it brushed and burned so good on the inside of your thighs, how it feels against your lips. 

Tentatively, bravely, you press your mouth against his and feel his smile. It’s sweet, slow. Intimate and lovely.

“Yeah? M’glad you think so,” he murmurs and steals one more kiss before pulling you against his body. 

Last night as you basked in the afterglow, Eddie asked so quietly if he could hold you and you almost teared up about it. It had been a long time since anyone had held you like that, like he is holding you again this morning.  It has been a long time since anyone has been sweet to you, shared closeness and intimacy like this. Not since the man you loved upped and left, leaving you and one-year-old Hazel with only each other to love. 

You feel the strength of his arms and the softness of his belly. There’s a stirring, hardening interest against your thigh and yet he’s not being too forward or pushy. He’s just holding you, just ‘coz. 

“I don’t… S’a while since I had a sleepover,” he admits, running his blunt nails over the small of your back. “You didn’t hog the covers, and you didn’t sneak off without saying bye…”

Eddie pulls back a little, wearing that small flirty smile that made you swoon last night. His voice is so playful, even though it is deep with morning huskiness. 

“Still here,” you whisper back, “I… It’s been a while for me too. I don’t usually… Yeah.” You shrug, you know he gets it. 

There is a glint of something in his eyes before he looks up at the ceiling. “I’m glad we did. I had fun.” 

The dimple in his cheek is beautiful and bashful, and when he looks at you again his eyes go right to your lips.

“Me too.” You touch his chain again and tug gently to bring your lips together again, putting you both out of your misery.

No one has ever kissed you like Eddie did last night, with all-consuming lust that made you feel electric. He is a blend of rough and smooth, a firm guiding hand followed by a gentle caress. You have never felt so wanted, so craved.

The way he kisses you this morning pushes aside the thoughts of all you need to do today. All you know is want, the cloying feeling of wanting to touch and be touched, craving pleasure. With his hands to guide, you straddle his lap and lean into the feeling of his fingertips wandering past the hem of the t-shirt he loaned you last night. 

Eddie looks up at you like you’re some sort of deity, his eyes and lips shining as you peel off the t-shirt and throw it behind you, leaving yourself bare in his lap. He was not put off by the stretch marks, or the Mom Body you felt so self-conscious about sometimes. Nor was he put off by the fact that you are a Mom. Eddie had simply smiled when you briefly mentioned your daughter, told you he had his own little girl without giving too much away. With that fresh layer of yourselves on show, you could understand each other just a little bit more without going full gushing-parent mode, sharing pictures of your little angels or ranting about who loved Bluey and loathed Peppa more. 

His fingers run over the stretch marks on your hips, starting up a slow grind as he kisses your neck (remembering your ‘no marks’ rule). There is a slight chill in the air to remind you that beyond this liminal bliss, it is a frosty December morning, but Eddie warms you up and distracts you without second thought. 

In the gauzy light, you see touches of fatherhood around his room, easily missed in the passion of last night - a framed drawing on his bedside table, a kiddie hair clip in his ring dish. You smile to yourself and shiver when his warm breath skates over the damp trail of kisses.

“Pretty smile,” he murmurs, needing to taste and feel it again. 

Hands wander and squeeze and you get drunk on each other all over again in the cocoon of Eddie’s bed. You blindly follow his dark treasure trail before taking him in hand, hot and diamond-hard, and savour the taste and sound of his moan. Your aching need for him is tempered and satiated by his fingers and you flush hot all over when he encourages you to scoot up and let him taste you, almost begging for it. Dazed with want, you find yourself clinging to the headboard with white knuckles and his name spilling from your lips. 

Eddie could die a happy man with your thighs bracketing his head. The taste of you makes him feel drunk as you take your pleasure from him; the needy roll of your hips is encouraged by his greedy hands in contrast to how cautious and careful you had been not to trap and tug his hair beneath your knees. 

When you are sufficiently dumb with pleasure, he lays you back against the pillows and lays out his desire for you in between messy kisses, losing his train of thought when you get your hand back on him and whisper back your need for him to fuck you now. Eddie reaches blindly for the (blessedly still-in-date) box of foil-wrapped packets in his drawer, not wanting to look away from you for even a moment.

He holds your hand as he makes love to you and you have to remind yourself not to get too caught up in how sweet Eddie is, even when he his making you feel like you have never been so full; sweetness and filthy words wound together so sweetly. It’s overwhelming and he catches you fighting tears when you feel too good. 

“Hey,” he whispers, wearing too much worry between his brows. “Do you want to stop, sweetheart? Am I hurting you?”

A guy being decent should not make your heart swell like this, and yet it does. You shake your head, tears spill over and he brushes them away with care.

“No, no. You’re not hurting me,” you promise. “I feel really good. S’just a lot.” 

Your voice wobbles and he smiles fondly against your mouth, relieved and happy to be wanted in return. 

Eddie has this magnetism, warm and cloying and a little mysterious; it makes you feel comfortable even when he’s teasing you and making you flush hot all over. 

“Yeah, baby? That’s what I’m here for,” he whispers, and kisses you slowly, sweetly. “Let me make you feel good.” You feel like your heart could beat out of your chest. He can feel it hammering against him as he starts up a slow roll of his hips that fills you completely. 

Your fingers clutch at the sheets as Eddie fucks you into his mattress. Nothing else matters in those moments, only pleasure. You fight the urge to sink your teeth into the meat and muscle of his arm, lick the drip of sweat from his neck. Instead, you taste the way he moans your name and cling to him when you come just moments apart - you first, then him.

He shares his water with you afterwards when he sees your empty glass; you are both damp with sweat and lying side by side with your heartbeats pounding in your ears, the lingering taste of each other on your tongues.

When he kisses you again, his lips are water-cooled and tender.

“Can I make you some coffee? I have to pick up my little terror in a bit…” he says, already cringing at himself. “She’s great, I swear. I promised her diner pancakes for brunch.”

Reality trickles back in, a not-unpleasant cooling off of your morning together.

“Yeah, I should probably not show up in last night’s clothes to pick my kid up. Coffee sounds good.” 

There was always an expiry date on this; the boundaries of a one-night stand were set and familiar, despite how long it has been and despite how easy and intimate this morning has been. You’re both adults, both okay with it. 

“Cool.” He smiles and hauls himself out of bed, stepping into his lost and found again boxers before he doubles back to kiss your cheek. 

When your legs are steady enough he shows you how the shower works, leaving you to it with a new toothbrush, fresh towels and a familiar squeeze to your bare hip. There’s a little part of you that wants him to join you, waste hot water and let him press you against the cold tiles. Eddie wants that too, to delay your inevitable parting of ways and return to reality.

When you look in the mirror, you see a well-fucked woman; kiss-bitten lips and that long-lost post-sex glow. 

“What the fuck,” you murmur to yourself, giggling a little when you think over the last twelve hours. 

You had not gone out looking for a hookup last night, but you made the most of the festive excuse to go for drinks with the few friends you had made since moving to Hawkins six months ago. Catching Eddie’s eye at the bar had been a happy accident. A happy accident that lead to letting him buy you a drink, and then buying him one back. Your friends had wholeheartedly encouraged it, knew him to see around town and vouched for him as a mechanic. Good with his hands, they had teased. Oh, how right they had been.

The water is hot and Eddie’s shower gel is the typical ‘for men’ scented sort of thing. You feel fresh and clean when you step back into the bedroom, finding sweats and an Iron Maiden hoodie on the bed for you, alongside your clothes from last night (which Eddie has attempted to fold neatly, instead of leaving you to pick them up from the floor).

It should not make you smile so much, but your cheeks ache pleasantly as you dress yourself, opting for last night’s jeans with Eddie’s sweater. It’s washed-soft and smells like the detergent you have at home with a hint of his cologne.

You follow the scent of coffee and the sound of music downstairs, finding more traces of parenthood on your way - a purple fairy door on the baseboard,  a washing basket full of clean kids' clothes outside a closed bedroom door, light-up Skechers and silver glitter rain boots in the hall. There is something familiar about them, but brush it aside as something Hazel probably asked for in Target.

Eddie’s unbuttoned jeans hang low on his hips as he makes coffee in mismatched mugs, his hair is down tickling against his bare shoulders and back. There are drawings on the fridge and a Christmas tree peeking out from the living room. It feels like a happy home.

His eyes light up when he sees you, looking as hungry and enamoured by you in his hoodie as he had been when you were wearing nothing at all. 

“Do you take sugar, or are you sweet enough?” he asks, wearing a softer version of that panty-dropper smile from last night. He smells clean, minty and masculine, after a quick whore’s bath in the other bathroom.

“Just one,” you say, resting your hip against the kitchen island while you watch him fix up your coffee. “You’re smooth, huh?”

“You tell me.” He slides the mug across to you before blowing on his coffee, taking a still-too-hot sip that he tries and fails to cover. For a moment, you think he might be doing a bit, alas he is simply endearingly clumsy.

You feel bad laughing, but Eddie only pouts a little bit before grinning at you. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks and he ducks his head to hide behind his hair. 

“Real smooth.” 

Exercising patience, you decide to let your coffee cool a little.

“I’ll give you a ride home if you like?” he says, hoping it’s not too forward. 

He wants to be more forward, ask for your number and ask you out. He likes how his clothes fit your body, and how you looked blissed-out in his bed. While Eddie’s trying not to come off too strong, you appreciate his sweetness and fight your own internal battle of trying not to fall for your one-night stand.

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Eddie. I’m over on Cornwallis, is that out of your way?”

He smiles a little, “I don’t mind a little detour, sweetheart.”

You pointedly blow on your coffee, learning from his mistake, and savour the made-just-right coffee in a Snoopy & Woodstock mug.

Over his shoulder, you spot a photo of a familiar man on the fridge, bookended by two heads of dark curly hair. There’s a handpainted fridge magnet with ‘Fae’ written in childishly charming pink writing, and you feel your cheeks flame.

He watches your face change, looks over his shoulder to see what you’re looking at. 

“Ah. That’s my Uncle Wayne, and Fae. My daughter. she’s six.” He unpins the picture and thumbs over it gently before turning it around to you.

You know exactly who they are, but take it anyway.

When you moved your life to Hawkins, Indiana six months ago, you would never have believed that you would make friends with a grandfather in his sixties outside of Curtain Call Dance Studio while you waited for Hazel. Making friends as a single Mom in a new town was not easy, you had little time outside of work and parenting for yourself, let alone socialising (and god forbid, dating). And then you parked next to Wayne one Thursday. He was a little quiet but had warmed up more each week; now he smiled when he saw you, asked how your job at the florists was and how Hazel was doing in school.

Even though they were in different First Grade class groups at Hawkins Elementary, Hazel and Fae had become almost inseparable in their dance classes and on the playground. 

You knew Fae’s dad worked late some evenings, so Wayne helped him out. Hazel had told you that she had seen Fae’s dad once when he picked her up early to go to the dentist, and that he had hair just like her friend.

“She looks just like me, it’s crazy - poor kid. I can’t believe she’s six. She’s supposed to be three, max. Y’know what I mean?” He says, showing you more of his proud Dad side before realising that your confusion is not because you’re looking at a picture of two clones. “You okay?”

“You’re Fae’s Dad? Fae Munson?” you ask, watching his shoulders tense a little as he nods. “Eddie. Our kids know each other. I’ve met Wayne.” 

He scowls slightly beneath his bangs, confused and a little worried that he hooked up with the mother of one of the kids who was mean to Fae in school, who told the teacher when she was ‘too chatty’ or when she stood up for herself.

The words spill from you untempered, unrestrained to clear it all up. “They’re at dance class together. They’re in the same grade. Hazel and Fae are friends, Eddie…”

He visibly softens, drops his shoulders, and even though he still looks confused he melts even more when an involuntary nervous laugh bubbles from your chest. 

“Seriously? No… You’re Hazel’s mom?” His eyes blow wide. “Fuck.” 

Eddie puts his head on the counter with a thunk, and you’re left with the photo of three smiling Munsons. Fae has her Dad’s eyes and hair, his impish mischief that had endeared you to the little girl. They really are alike.

“Wayne was right,” he says, muffled beneath his hair before peeking at you, “You are cute.” 

It makes you laugh more, though your cheeks feel like the surface of the sun.

“Wayne thinks I’m cute? Huh…”

“No. Nope,” he yelps, head flying up like a wild thing. “Oh my goddd.”

You feel a little spacey as the pieces fall into place. Wayne’s nephew Ed worked at Thatcher Tyre as a mechanic, and Fae had told Hazel her Dad looked like a rockstar. She wasn’t wrong…

“He was totally going to try and set us up or somethin’.”

“He did say I’d finally get to meet you at the Winter Performance…” you say, feeling fizzy-all-over as you come to terms with the shock of it all. “Guess we bet him to it.”

“Told me you were real sweet too.” Eddie smiles, his cheeks are pinker than ever.

Part of your brain berates you for hooking up with a stranger in a small town - a small town where everyone knows everyone else. But when Eddie reaches his hand out across the island and says, “Good to finally meet you, Hazel’s Mom,” with that flirty smile and his whiskey eyes, it melts away and you’re not really that sorry at all.

You take his hand, mug-warmed and adorned with silver rings. 

“Nice to meet you at last, Fae’s Dad.”

Neither of you is too embarrassed by the revelation, though you both circle back to how fucking crazy it is at least twice. Even though you still feel gooey-warm under his attention, you don’t want anything to get in the way of your daughter’s friendship, of your new start in Hawkins, and feel selfish for wanting more than the taste you have already had of Eddie Munson. You both know your time together is drawing to an end, the bubble is about to burst, and a little part of you wishes that the illusion of being strangers could have lasted a little longer. 

With your coffee consumed and your coats and boots on, Eddie takes your hand and pulls you against his body before you step outside of the door together. 

“Hey, gorgeous. One more kiss?” he asks, head tilted to the side. 

You don’t need to think about it, and take his stubbled jaw with both hands as he holds your hips. Kissing him makes all the tension roll away once more, and you hope it is enough to help him remember you as more than just some other Mom in the First Grade Parents Group Chat (which you both have muted). You have to savour it, remember his taste and touch.

Eddie is not shy about kissing you, he slides his tongue against yours and moans ever so quietly when you push your chest against his. He is also the one to slow it down, makes it sweet and tender and you would dare say romantic, even with his hands on your ass. 

“Can I ask for one more thing?” he whispers, nudging his nose against yours. 

Right now, you would consider giving him a kidney or a blow job if he asked nicely. 

“Mhm,” you whisper, giving nothing away just yet. 

“Can I get your number? I wanna take you out properly,” he says, his thumbs play with the belt loop at the back of your jeans. “Like a date.”

Feeling hot all over, you try to play it cool and not nod so eagerly lest you headbutt him and leave him bloody-nosed. 

“Yeah. That would be nice, Eddie.” 

He watches how your teeth sink into your lip and has to kiss you once more, just because. You take his phone and add your number and name, adding a little sparkle emoji before deleting it. Then you add it again and hand it back before you can change your mind.

“Cool. And, um maybe the girls could have a play date sometime? I was gonna ask for your number anyway, so y’know. Two birds, one stone and all that. Silver linings?” Eddie does a jazz-hand-flourish thing before he shakes his head at himself and tucks his phone away. “I had a good time with you. A great time. And I know what you might be thinking, I don’t want this to get between the girls either. But I’d love to see you again.”

You are even more endeared by these glimpses of how sensible he is as well as his goofy awkwardness beneath the leather jacket and bad boy stare.

He is as gentlemanly as he had been last night, opening doors for you, though he is less handsy in the bright morning light (he does give your knee a squeeze at the stoplight). You feel safe with him as he navigates the frosty roads of Hawkins, talking about music, what concerts you had been to before becoming parents, and where to get the sparkly tutus for the Winter Performance. 

All too soon he pulls up outside your house, spotting the red door with the handmade wreath that you had described.

“Next to Henderson’s?” he asks, brow raised.

“Yep. Do you know Claudia, or is this town just too small?”

He laughs, tilts his head against the headrest. “It’s way too small. Her son, Dustin? One of my best friends.” 

You tip your head forward, smiling even as your head shakes. “I’ve heard so much about Dustin. We’re having Christmas dinner with them.”

Eddie's dimpled cheeks crease even more. “Damn. Well, I can’t wait to hear why you picked Hawkins of all places to move to. You can tell me on our date.”

Proud of how that flusters you, he presses a kiss to your hand and winks, “I’ll text you later, sweetheart.”

You want to kiss him again, but you manage to restrain yourself, remembering the nosy neighbours on Cornwallis. Instead, you let the flickering fire inside you flirt back, hoping to fluster him too.

You place your hand high on his thigh and squeeze. “You better, Eddie. Drive safe.”

You can feel him checking you out all over again, the weight and warmth of his gaze, as you make your way up the path to your door. Once your key is in the lock, you part ways with a wave and a wink, lingering just a moment more to watch his car peel away from the curb. 

Left with a fluttering feeling in your tummy and warm cheeks that ache from smiling, you take a moment for yourself in your hallway. 

It is time to go back to being Hazel’s mom. You can’t wait to hear about her sleepover with Ms. Claudia and the cats, bask in her brilliance and take every hug and smooch she will offer you (or let you take for yourself). Inspired by Eddie and Fae’s breakfast date, you think of taking your girl to the diner for dinner later on, maybe watching a Christmas movie before bed. 

In the mirror above your sideboard, hanging above the key dish and the thrifted lamp and a photo of you and Hazel in matching sunglasses, you catch sight of your smiling reflection once more, enveloped in a dreamy daze and borrowed hoodie. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and your smile becomes bigger, brighter, brimming with hope. 

What did you think? Do we want more of these two? 👀 Thank you so very very much for reading! Your comments, reblogs and likes are incredibly appreciated and adored!

Whether you're celebrating or not, I am wishing you the cosiest and most wonderful holiday season filled with peace and love and every good thing you deserve ✨

[milksuu]

Don't Worry. I'll Support You. | PT. 01

❥ prompt: Your HEARTSTEEL boyfriend has to undergo minor surgery, and they chose you to be their caretaker for the day. Let's see how they are before and after anesthesia. ❥ content/warnings: fluffy fluff, drugged behavior (all medically safe), mention of needles, mild profanity, minor angst ❥ characters/pairings: v!Heartsteel! (aphelios, ezreal, kayn) x girlfriend!reader

an: i don't know why this was tumbling around in my head. wow, this post got longer and longer the more i wrote. i swear I'll write for the other babes too.

APHELIOS

Unfortunately, this wouldn't be the first time Aphelios had to undergo surgery. Happened when they had to remove the nodule from his vocal cords. And he doesn't remember a single thing from that day. Alune took care of him at the time, but she never mentioned anything beyond how he slept most of the day (probably to spare him from embarrassment).

He appreciated you taking a day off work to take care of him and be his interpreter. He was fine with all his consents and paperwork. But when it came to more detailed questions concerning his medical history, he would have you translate his sign language to the medical staff. Thanks to you, the process went smoothly.

IV's were never fun to have. Especially when it had to be in the hand. Aphelios couldn't lie and say he wasn't nervous about it, despite his aloofness. But all he had to do was shift his eyes away for a moment, and look at your cute, bubbly face. He could tell you were rambling on trying to distract him, and he guessed it worked. By the time he looked down again, the IV was in. He denied the golden star sticker usually meant for the pediatric patients, but you took it for him as a momento.

When it was time for him to go into the OR, the medical team gave you two a moment. You slipped a hand into his and gave him two love squeezes. He smiled softly and gave three love squeezes back. A quick peck to his lips and you left to sit in the waiting room.

When he was brought to recovery and awake, you were taken to his bedside. When you stepped through the curtain, you saw him resting as if he were asleep at home. Slowly, he opened his eyes, glazed over with mild recognition. Although he felt lethargic, he signed sloppily with his hands.

Is this heaven?

You bit your bottom lip to keep from smiling too much. You shook your head and reminded him where he was.

Oh. Really? Because you look like an angel to me. And if they want you back up there. Forget it. I'm keeping you.

You covered your mouth to keep from giggling too loud. You weren't sure if he was being serious or actually trying to flirt with you. It wasn't common at all for him to be so corny, but you blamed the anesthesia for that. When the nurse came to the bedside, she went over discharge instructions while you held his hand. He kept giving you light squeezes and rubbing his thumb gently against your fingers. Just to make sure you wouldn't fly away. Of course, anytime you had to let go and sign a paper, he sighed heavily (almost a whine if he wasn't careful), until your hand floated right back for him to take. Then he was sighing with relief again.

While at home, it was just the same. Aphelios didn't want you to leave his side for even a moment. If he had his way, you'd be sleeping next to him, still holding onto his hand. You had to remind him many times that you had to take care of him, so no cuddles or naps just yet. You also had to remind him he needed to eat and take fluids after fasting for so long. If there was thing you knew, he was a picky eater. Aphelios seriously thought ketchup packets counted as a full meal and satisfied his daily fiber intake. Luckily, you were able to spoon feed him some soup with a couple of crackers.

After you had him take his first dose of medication, you could finally indulge him. You settled next to him in bed, and he took no time to wrap himself around you, nuzzling your chest. A small, sleepy smile formed against his lips. Maybe you weren't a real angel. But you couldn't convince him you weren't his heaven on Earth.

EZREAL

Oh, boy. This was the first time Ezreal had to have any kind of surgery. Even though it was supposedly minor, that didn't stop the nerves itching underneath his skin. Is it normal to be this nervous? He wasn't sure, but he tried his best to hide his chattering teeth behind a forced smile. He really didn't want you worrying about him more than you had too. You were already doing him a big favor by taking care of him. He just hoped he wouldn't be a wreck before and after.

Apparently, signing consent forms and answering medical questions became a challenge. His hand trembled so much, his usual confident signature looked like a preschooler forged it. And when it came to answering medical questions, he found himself stuttering, feeling like someone stuck cotton balls inside his mouth.

When it was time for the IV, his whole body was ready to collapse in on itself. Was it always so hot in here? Sweat dampened the top of his skin. W-What's the big deal anyway? Not like he was afraid of some tiny, sharp...needle....OK, the room was spinning now. Great—awesome. Man, he felt so lame.

Seeing the color drain from his complexion, his head drop back, and his eyelids fluttering close, you politely asked the nurse to give him a moment with you. She laid him down in the stretcher and brought you a wet cloth. Wiping at his damp face and neck, you rested a comforting hand against his heaving chest. "It's okay to be afraid, Ez. It's not easy to have surgery. You're brave for even being here." He shook his head weakly, clenching his eyes tight. "B-brave. Yeah right, babe. I mean, look at me. I'm practically comatose and the nurse barely even wrapped the tourniquet around my arm."

"Brave doesn't mean not being afraid of anything. It's doing something even knowing it's scary." Another wipe of his cheek and you planted a reassuring kiss. "There's no one braver in my eyes right now." Ezreal swallowed the ball of anxiety nested in his throat. A couple of more inhales and he gathered his remaining courage for the next step that had to be done.

You held his hand the entire time the nurse worked to get his IV started. You told him to close his eyes and take big breaths, and it would be over before he even knew it. He did as instructed, and just like you said, it was done. He admitted to you that it felt a bit itchy, but that he could deal with. Oh, but was it so worth it when the nurse offered him that golden star sticker. He slapped it on the chest of his gown like a badge of honor.

When the medical team arrived to take him in the stretcher, he gave you that million dollar smile and peace sign. Granted, you whispered to the anesthesiologist to give him some relaxing medication before he went in. The anesthesia provider was way ahead of you. When he started giggling, waving, and blowing kisses like he was out the sunroof of a limo driving down the boulevard—oh yeah. You knew he was feeling it.

When it was all over and they called you back to recovery, the nurse informed you he couldn't stop talking the moment he opened his eyes. And all that he was talking about was you. "Babe! Babe! I did it—I can't even believe it's over. I don't even remember them putting me to sleep. Crazy, right? Like, did I count down from ten? Did I make it to zero? I bet I made it to zero." He practically wiggled himself over the safety rails on the stretcher. You sweetly instructed him to keep still so that the nurses could get a decent blood pressure on him. "Okay. Okay. I'll be good. Promise." He forced himself to lay back, but that didn't last long. While the nurse was going over instructions, he was tugging on your shirt sleeve, calling your name, interrupting every moment wanting your attention. Apparently, he had a lot to say to you in the span of thirty-minutes you were separated.

When you arrived back home, by some miracle you were able to have him settled on the couch once you put on his favorite K-Drama. While sitting next to him (and making sure he didn't get up) he rested his cheek against the top of your head. "Thanks for everything, babe. Honestly, you make me feel like the bravest guy. Like Indiana Jones....or Captain Kirk...maybe even that...one actor from National Treasure...." before you could say anything back, you felt his body relax further into you. His light breaths signaling he dozed off seamlessly. With a warm smile, you pulled the blanket over the two of you, and snuggled closer before you joined him for a nap.

KAYN

GOD DAMN IT'S EARLY! Kayn wanted to shout when you woke him up for his 6AM arrival time. Instead, he grumbled, kicked on his crocks, and went in his pajamas. He was too tired to really argue and complain. He just wanted to get this done and over with so he could move on with his life.

Kayn didn't diddle-daddle with his forms and medical questions. He wanted to put on his gown, toss himself into the stretcher, and possibly get a few more winks before his surgical time. You sighed—this was going to be the longest hour before surgery.

Although still in a foul mood, Kayn eased a bit when you worked up a distracting conversation with him. And when the nurse came in to do his IV, Kayn didn't bother blinking. He probably stuck himself countless of times with other—probably sharper—and deadlier objects. Actually, he took it one step further. When the IV was inserted, just to mess with you (and the nurse), he made a loud, and seductive moan. You pinched his arm for startling the nurse. Poor thing didn't even know how to react to that nonsense. "Ow. Ow. Nurse—nurse, she's hurting me." He said, cowering away from you. "You deserve that for almost giving them a heart attack. What if they missed and had to stick you twice?" Kayn smirked, rubbing at his nipple line. "More of a good time for me, then." You rolled your eyes, begging for him to behave for the next half-hour.

When the surgeon came to the bedside, he discussed the procedure at length and a few expectations afterwards. When he finished, he asked if either of you had any questions. Kayn raised his hand like the serious kid in math class. "Yeah. Question, Dr. Shen. When can I have sex again?" You almost spat out the complimentary coffee the front staff so kindly gave you. You couldn't believe he had just asked that question so casually at...let's see.... 06:50 in the morning!

You apologized on his behalf, but Dr. Shen merely dismissed it. "That's quite alright. It's a fair question. And one I receive plenty of times from my male patients. Even ones well into their eighties, and surprisingly, nineties." Kayn nodded with a grin and you rubbed your warming forehead. Of course. What else would they bother to ask? The surgeon went on to say; "As far as any kind of exertional activities, that will all be discussed and cleared at your follow-up appointment in two weeks."

TWO WEEKS!? Kayn almost fainted right then in there. He looked at you with such concern, as if someone told him a Pentakill concert sold out before he could even buy a ticket. He reached over and grabbed your hand, holding tight. "Listen, kitten. I don't think I want this surgery anymore. Can we go home now?" You shook your head disapprovingly. After hearing such news, and you not bailing him out, Kayn sulked as if he was getting surgery to forever castrate him.

When it was time to take him, he begrudgingly let you kiss his cheek. Otherwise, he didn't reciprocate your affection. He tossed his chin away and said. "Whatever. Let's just get this crap over with." Once again, he had you shaking your head, and you apologizing to everyone in the room.

When the nurse came to bring you back into recovery, you noticed he was sleeping on his side, back turned to you. You wondered if he was still upset by the whole ordeal. When you reached out to touch his shoulder, he tensed, but slowly turned over. "Kayn. Are you feeling alright? If you're in pain, I'll tell the nurse—" Before you could finish, Kayn reached forward and grabbed you, pulling you into the tightest hug. You felt him bury his face into your neck and shoulder, hands desperately clinging to you.

"Oh, thank you, thank you." You heard him choke up. You brought a hand to gently comb through his hair, asking him what was wrong. He shook his head. "I...I don't know. I thought— just before everything went black—what if I never saw you again. And the way I acted before they took me..." he squeezed tighter, burying his sulking face deeper. "I'm sorry. I love you, okay? Just, trust me on that. Please."

"It's okay. I love you too," you hummed and stroked his back, continuing to assure him. "You don't have to worry anymore. It's all over. You're still here. The doctor said you did so good, and there were no complications." Pausing, you planted a kiss to the top of his head. "How about we get you dressed so we can go home, hm?" He nodded against your shoulder, and you helped the nurse dress him for discharge.

When you brought him home, Kayn wanted to do nothing but turn off the lights, close the blinds, and lay next to you in quiet darkness. Breathe you in, feel your warmth, and listen to the softness of your pulse against his ear. Focus on the fact that he was alive and you were alive with him—nothing else.

[vitzi9]

Patience is the key to success (2)

Masterlist if you want to read my others things. Part 1 here.

CW/TW: yandere-manipulative-obsessive-stalker-ethan, fem reader, smut, no p in v, depressed reader(but really), suicidal thoughts

i'm trying to post this quick because I crave attention, whatever its insults, compliments, likes or repost, idc. I want ppl to know i'm existing. i have a big oral test tomorrow and im really bad at speaking before someone (hence why im writing instead) so i just need to know im not totally useless in the society and that im, at the very least, making people enjoy my things. sorry for the rant, i have a big headhache, probably gonna die ✌️😚

the smut is really bad btw but like really but im bad at writing them but i need to to improve (26/06/2023) (5226 words)

"Let's just finish watching the movie now." you say and Ethan doesn't make you repeat as he goes straight to the couch.

You felt much better after that little talk. Ethan did not say much but in his words, there was a lot more. He was planning to be with you a long time. He does not want to ruin things. It made you so happy. Every fiber in you was warm thinking of it. You were at peace.

Ethan was calm after that, albeit moving uncomfortably sometimes. (maybe because of his boner?) He was just as cuddly as when you arrived. His head laid flat on your chest, rising up and down with each one of your breath. Your fingers brush his curl slowly as you hear his breathing slacken. You were giddy thinking about him being at peace with you, too.

His arms were closed tightly around your body, never letting you go. The movie was really advanced by now, the end was coming soon. It probably was something towards 11AM. Usually, you would have gone knock at your friend's house but there was no need now as you already saw her earlier.

When the movie fatefully ended, the credits start to roll but none of you moved an inch. Ethan rubs his cheeks against your chest before sighing happily. His eyes were closed. Was he asleep ? No, certainly not. He loves horror movie. He wouldn't fall asleep when one is ongoing.

He was cute here. You were delighted to think he trusted you enough to let his guards down and sleep with you. You were his safeplace. And he was yours. Your fingers trail down on his back where you draw small patterns dreamily. You write things, that cross your mind. You simply scratch him. His sudden speaking startle you. Your hand stopping evey movements.

"Are you sleeping far from here, today ? Every movements of his jaw hitting slightly on your chest. 'today' because he knew about your frequent change of home.

Relaxing, you continue to caress his back lovingly.

-No, not really. But I don't sleep there anymore.

The hotel too was starting to worry you. Like the building was shrieking on you. You don't know what was scarier, to be alone or to never be. And now that you found such a warm place, you don't want to leave. Ever.

-Why ?

-Scare me, s'all.

-You can sleep here tonight, if you want.

-Why ? Your decision was already made; you'd sleep here. You knew it the second he offered you to stay the night. But you wanted to see his arguments to convince you.

"Let me be with you." his sentence made a shiver run down your back.

Did that stalker fucked you up so hard you had chill even thinking about them? It was just a damn sentence. Everyone can say it. For god's sake, it's Ethan saying it of all people. Even if he awoke this uneasy feeling back, you couldn't blame him. He didn't know about the sign the criminal had shown you. You didn't tell him that much detail, only saying they had indeed brought creepy signs but omitting what was written on it. And Ethan said it so prettily, too. Yes, of course you'd be with him.

He told you you never slept here before and that you'd be safe anyway since he's here and don't plan on leaving you. So you accepted. It was really early in the day but the both of you were getting sleepy because of the calm and comfort of the situation. He offered you to go to his room which you accepted. After guiding you to there, he tells you he has to go grab something and that he'd be back really quick.

And he did, in fact, came back really quick.

By then, you were already sprawled out on his bed. You had time to see the mess he had scattered everywhere. The carboard, the books, the drawings, some letters, too. And you even found out about his second phone. The lockscreen was a generic one, the one you have by default, as if he just got it recently. But the phone wasn't new, it seems in contrary really old as it was broken at some area.

Ethan arrives in the room with a small plastic blue square packaging, you don't have time to see what it was that he throws it under the bed. You don't pay it too much attention. Playing mindlessly with his other phone in hand, you take off and put back the phone case of it to entertain yourself.

"You got two phones ? you ask even though you kind of knew the answer already.

-Oh, yes. One is for games only, the other is the one I'm really using. Did you went on it ?

-No, don't worry, I won't frisk into your secret criminal life."

He smiles before taking the phone out of your hand. He places it in the drawer of his nightstand. Ethan falls on top of you, taking your breath away for a moment. You laugh and hit his back for him to get away from you and he just laugh heartly before letting himself fall beside you.

He lays down, setting his head on his arm, looking up at you with stars in eyes. Sometimes, he's so pretty it hurt physically to look at him. Starting to get embarrassed by his insistent look, you find something to say.

-Why do you have so much pieces of cardboard anyway ?

-I make placards out of them.

With a fond smile, Ethan stares straight at your eyes. As if waiting for you to say something. You would have ask questions about his 'placards ' if not for the sudden interest he was displaying in you, which, instead, made you change subject without really noticing it. A nervous laugh escaping you.

-Why are you looking at me like that ? Is there an undertone ? Am I supposed to understand something ?"

He shakes his head negatively, displaying a small mischievous smile. He could be such a goblin at times ! Wanting to make him swallow his pride, you lean towards him and kiss his lips. Ethan smiles and moves his lips with yours.

Your arm set down on his waist and soon the kiss get heated. Ethan's body is burning, his breath is too. You don't let each other breath, as soon as you separate from each other, you plunge back in. Physically needing the contact.

You rise on your knee, arching your back to kiss him still laying flat on the bed. Soon, he joins you by rising as well. Both of you on your knees, face to face, eating each other's face. Ethan's hand are mahandling you to sit on his thights. Then, with his surprising strenght, he starts sliding you on them. Your heating pussy rubbing directly on the fabric of his pant. Your hand instinctivly goes to rub the growing tent in his trousers. The area was hot, when you slide your fingers on it, it would budge.

Ethan whimpers, thrusting his hips against yours. You straddle him completly, framing his his body with your legs. You rub his tent against your clit for some frictions. It was aching and growing more desperate by seconds.

"I... I wanna have sex with you." Ethan says softly.

You kiss his cheek, going for his neck. You answer with a meek 'me too' before sucking the skin of his neck. Ethan backs his head, already out of breath. He gives you full access to his body, still rutting desperatly his hips into yours.

But you were growing impatient. You lift your body from him, making him whine at the contact loss, before sliding your fingers behind the elastic of his pants. You slip it down to his knees before you start salivating at the sight of his hard cock already drooling for you.

He didn't have any underwear. That's why you could feel him so close to your core.

Your hand touch his thight, caressing gently his body. Making sure to avoid the area he need you the most. Ethan try to touch himself, tired of your teasing, but you slap his hand away. He whines and looks up at you with teary eyes. Silently begging you to do something. It was impossible for you to resist him.

Your hand grabs his cock in one motion, you could feel it pulse and its warmth propagate in your hand. It was already so so wet because of all his precum, your hand was sliding so easily you could have thought he came multiple times already. Gently, you start to move your hand on all its lenght slowly. The boy props himself on his elbows and look at the scene before him. Ethan sighs happily, eyes closing and head backing. He's in heaven, he thinks. But not entirely, as he looks at you still clothed.

"Want to... Want to finger you..." he pleas.

In front of a boy so desperate, and being incredibly horny, you slide your pant down, making sure your underwear went with it. Ethan lose every one of his braincells when he sees your bare pussy glistening with your love juice. He wanted to lick it bad. That's the only one fanstam he ever had that help him getting off so hard he can't move for a whole minute. He wants to drown himself in your juice. But you have others projects.

You guide his pointer finger to your lips. Ethan starts caressing it and smear your juice everywhere. His lift up another finger and start passing both of them on your lips.

"Here, you have to touch here." you say, pointing to your clit.

You move briefly to bring your genitals closer. You could feel each other's warmth emanating from your core. Seeing him try to touch you was so hot. He was listening to everything you said.

Soon getting the hang of it, he starts circling your clit, applying different pressure on it to see which one were you reacting the most to. Slowly, you quicken your pace on his hard cock. As if to reward him for being such a good boy. He was in a trance, eyes closing and opening. And when they opened, they were staring with a utmost care at your moving breast throught your shirt. Your nipples were hard and were poking through the fabric.

His eyes were glued to it. Understanding his want, you lift your shirt above your collarbone with your free hand. Ethan can't seem to take off his eyes of you. They're probably the first pair of breasts he sees in real life after all.

"Fuck... You're so pretty, love." you speed up on his shaft at his praise. "Fuck, fuck...

-You can touch baby.

-I can?"

He stops all movements to your pussy, your frown but let him discover his needs. It was his first time, you needed to let him have a little fun. His free hand touch one of your breast, massaging it then weighten it in the palm of his hand. He smiles like an idiot, an idiot so cute you let him do what he wants with you. His other, wet, hand pinch lightly your sensitive bud.

Your free hand slap his arm to make him understand he did it too hard. He sends you an apologatic smile.

"They're like stress ball."

Amused by the weird comparison, your chuckle. Still impatient to come, you guide your hand higher on his cock to caress his tip and rub it. His face contorts in pleasure, browns frows and mouth ajar. His forehead fall on your shoulder while his fingers go back down near your entrance. His hips were thrusting into nothing but your hand. Obscene wet noises were resulted. You were hot, terrribly hot but so was he.

Ethan's small puff of breath sends chill in your body. His whimpers couldn't be replaced with anyone else. Your hand was all wet and sticky, as was his. Ethan decides to enter once again two of his digits in you. Your head falls back and you sigh happily at finally scratching that itch in you.

"Curl your fingers, E." you whisper.

He hums and do as told. Curling his fingers in you, he starts to thrust them in and out at a slow pace, adopting the same sensuality you used to jerk him off. You accelerate, your hand no longer lingering on the entire shaft. Sometimes, you'd stop completly to hear him whine. Your thumb caressing his cock's veins.

"Baby please..." he pleas.

Ethan starts kissing sloppily your shoulder, your neck. You, on the other hand, take his hand to guide the thrust of his fingers, angling them correctly for them to touch that spongy spot inside. His fingers were long and thin, that was a part of him you absolutly loved. You always had a thing for pretty hands and his were beautiful.

"What do you want, love? you ask tenderly.

-Tell me you love me..."

You nudge his hair with your nose and he looks up. Staring at his eyes, you see them wet with tears. You kiss him instantly. Playing with his tongue with yours, your hand moving faster and faster. You stop the kiss to tell him you love him and he bites his lips, eyes closing.

His breath is jerky, uneven. You press his palm against your clit, rubbing it while you push his fingers inside you again. You feel a knot tighten. You won't last long.

"Tell me you love me.

-I love you E, you're doing so good.

-Again..."

You said it as many times as he needed to feel better. His hips stuttters, his cock quivers. His words are slurred to each other, resulting in incomprehensible blabbering. You don't lose the rythm, keeping the same pace until he'd eventually come.

-Love you so..." he whines.

His body tense, his breath stops. You can only hear the wet sounds your hand is producing. He doesn't utter a sound until spurts of cum smear on your hand and belly. Feeling at ease, he moans a last time from relief and breath again.

You're not far behind. Ethan being pratically knocked out, you grind on his hand. You close your thighs around it, ensuring it stay inside. Your legs are shaking, wave of hot and cold invade you. You plunge his fingers inside but, to your surprise, Ethan regains control and start pounding into you to get you to your end.

He kisses your neck while you finally come on his fingers, sweaty and disvesheled. You swear one last time when he withdraws his fingers. You stay here for a while, just hugging , breathing and basking in each other's presence.

After some minutes, you decide to go shower together. You end up finally getting a good night of sleep, cuddled in his strong arms.

The next day, Ethan and you had a stupid satisfied smile on your face. Both happy to be here. You kissed and confessed your love to each other all morning until eventually he had to leave for work. Sadly, you had things to do, too. Ethan offered you to stay and sleep here for a few nights because he wanted to stay close to you.

You liked this idea. Of course you liked it, you love Ethan. And to convince you further, he told you his roomate wouldn't mind. So naturally you accepted. You were embarassed at the idea of bothering his roomate but you decided you would just sleep here, and the day, you'd let the apartment free. It was his too, after all. Not only Ethan's. There is no way you'd let someone feel excluded in their own house.

Grabbing your phone, you click on your friend's number. You call her, the ringing echoes three times and no one answer. Somehow begrudgingly, you resume yourself at simply sending a text. Just for you to instantly forgetting your sorrow as she answers. The discussion was quite simple, she was telling you she was at her grandma right now. She was bored and wanted to know how you were doing.

'I'm going back to my dear haunted apartment, probably gonna die. Wish me luck.' you texted. She put a little more time answering this one. It's possible it triggered something in her. After everything she endured. 'nobody will hurt you as long as i'm alive' she said. She simply changed subjects after that. Asking you about the cute guy you told her about in the letters. And so you explained everything. Every time you tried to offer to call her, she'd decline. You were still sad she didn't want to talk to you but you were telling yourself you needed to be patient.

On a happier note, you decided to leave the place to go to your own apartment.

To one point, you should have known better than be too happy about your improving situation. Of course, it was well too soon for you to consider everything better. But you were probably stupid because the fall hit you much harder than you could've prepared yourself for. Oh, the pain you felt when reality had finally caught you. You thought you were going to die when you came back home to simply grab some clothes. (Ethan told you to do so.)

Your door was ajar. But it wasn't your doing. No, of course it wasn't you. Your apartement terrified you, why would you come here more ofthen than needed ? You felt your body freeze but you quickly overcame the feeling. That's it. You needed it to end. This fucking stalker had ruined you. You and your life. You sent a text to Ethan, telling him that if you do not call him after twenty minutes, he needed to call the cops. He didn't answer. He was at work. It was well past eleven by now.

Your heart was beating so hard you thought it was going to collapse on the ground, and you with it. Slowly, aware of every sound around you, you push the door. Your livingroom was as messy as you had left it. At one difference, the wall. Every frame you had put up on the walls were thrown away. Most of them on the ground and broken, with shattered glasses everywhere.

Why would the creep empty the walls ? To write on it. Of course they would write on it. You laugh bitterly for yourself. You couldn't see their stupids fucking signs anymore, so they had to improve. To force you to read their creepy obsessive text. You hear the crushing of a broken piece of glass, as if someone had stepped on it. But it wasn't you.

You're on alert. Every one of your senses on crisis. Was your mind playing tricks on you ? It was possible in this hellish house who did nothing but give you nightmares recently. You don't realize how you stopped breathing. Only calming when three long minutes had gone without another sound to be heard.

Nothing is here. You're alone, you think. Everything is good. You'll just grab your stuff and leave. Regaining your breath, you bring your attention back on the wall. Words were written on it in deep crimson red. Is that blood ? No, it can't be. Probably paint to give a creepy look that'll catch your attention. You approach the wall to better understand the message.

'She's not here anymore'

The need to throw up almost won. A dark feeling in your guts was telling you 'she' was your friend. But you didn't know. She responded to you, after all. You talked to her. So she had to be okay. She had to. You put your hand on your belly to soothe that want to vomit. You take big breath before finally leaving the livingroom. You quickly make your way to your room where you meet your bare bed. Where are your sheets ? What the hell ? But you don't want to stay longer so you throw clothes in your bag in a hurry.

The front door slam shut. And you know it's the end.

You already feel the tears drowning your sight. Trying to stay silent, you hide in your closet almost empty with how many times you came here to grab clothes. Your hand clasp against your mouth to avoid doing any noise.

Slow footsteps can be heard in the empty apartment. With your shaky hands, you fail to unlock your phone. Your vision is blurry, you can't touch the correct keys. The worst is that you can't see where the creep is. If they stay silent, they can enter the room you're in without you even noticing. And this idea is horrifying. But on another side, you'd preferred them to kill you by surprise so you don't have to affront them.

Your cries intensify, in your despair, you drop your phone straight on the ground. The footsteps stops abrutly. Three distincts knocks are echoing on the corridor's wall. They are coming toward you. You're fucked. They're coming ! What do you do ? What did you do ? Why is this happening ?

Kneeling like you could in the closed space, you reach your hand to grab your phone. As soon as your finger grazes it, the phone vibrate and your ringtone start playing for the whole building to hear. No, no, no, no, no ! Ethan. Ethan is calling you. You pick up despite everything but as soon as you do so, the call is cut short. Fuck E, why would you do that !

The criminal's footsteps are louder, quicker, heavier. They're running. They're running here ! You hold the closet door shut with your both hands, praying for your life. You only have knives in your kitchen, but it's too late now. If you go out, they'll see you. You realized at that moment that whatever you were doing, you couldn't win. That you never even stood a chance against them.

Everything was illusion.

Nothing was improving, you knew it, in fact. You were lying to yourself, searching comfort in a man that don't even understand the dept of the problem. Of your problem. And your friend ? You don't want to talk about her. You don't want to open your eyes just yet. You just want to live in your nice little lies you made up for yourself. You're nice with them, in fact, you like them. Nobody wanted to help you anyway. They could have saved you, you and her, but nobody listened.

Now, it's too late.

The closet start to shake. Widening your eyes, you realize that the creep had start to punch it with their bare fist. You don't give a fuck about being heard anymore, you're bailing your eyes out. Begging for them to let you go, screaming, yelling, calling for help. Holding the door for dear life as if it was going to save you, because in your head it was. But the door didn't last long.

A hole is quickly created in the door. You thought you'd see someone's face, wether it be a man, a woman, whatever. But you saw a white plastic mask instead.

Ghostface.

Why was a damn Ghostface chasing after you? Was it all a sick joke from the start ? You swear you were seeing his eyes boring into yours through the mask. You swore you already saw them somewhere. Ghostface tilts their face to the side, as if mocking you. They were telling you that you were stuck, that it was the end. You hoped they'd kill you.

You couldn't live like this anymore.

In the hole of the closet, Ghostface pass his gloved hand. The latter lay on your shaky face, on your cheek to be exact. You feel the fabric against your skin and think of biting his fingers off. No, you'll angry him. If he's going to kill you, that it be in the least painful way.

"Ethan, right ? Does he treat you so well you forgot about me?" his changed voice said. A weird and creepy robotic voice, one you knew you'd never forget.

You were moving your head left to right. You didn't know why. Probably to tell you didn't want to die, probably to avoid looking into his eyes. He laughs, sounding like a rumbling.

"Ending things right now would be such a waste."

No ! You thought you were finally free ! Why would he chases you down for so long without acting on it !? His gloved hand retract and the door slowly open in an acute creaking. The man is finally revealed before you. He was wearing the whole outfit, the big black robe and the hood.

"It was fun. I give you a gift to reward you for these beautiful screams."

And the knife.

He had a knife in hand. And it was tinged red. Something in you told you it was her. Suddenly, the red writings on your wall had a different meaning.

"I hope you like it, I worked extra hard for it."

Out of nowhere, Ghostface takes your hand, force it open, and lay in it something before forcing it closed. He laughs deeply. One of his hand pat your head mockingly before moving up.

"See you later." he said, swinging his knife in a playful manner.

You were absolutely paralyzed. You didn't know what happened. You stayed up without moving for whoever say how long. When your legs finally stopped shaking, you decided to look what the killer had gave you. Slowly opening your hand, your knee buckle and you fall to the ground crying silently at the sight of a nip of your friend's hair.

You curled up on yourself before completly laying down on the ground, tightening the hairs in your hand close to your heart. She was not here anymore. You wanted to fucking die.

Ever since, Ethan was forgotten. He had tried to call you so many times you had blocked his number. You spent the rest of the day crying in your hotel's room. You resented him. So hard. He didn't answer, he was the one calling and giving your position to a fucking criminal, to a murderer! And he didn't answer. He didn't help, like everyone else.

One day later, neighbors complained about a smell coming from an apartment. You didn't cry when they found your friend's dead body. You didn't cry when cops came to interrogate you. The caretaker having told them about you. Your eyes contained so much hatred in them when looking at him the cops had to let him leave to get him away from you. You didn't cry telling the cops how many times you went to see them to ask for help, nor how many times did they reject you. You didn't cry when they told you she was dead for at least a week, and that her boyfriend was missing. You had no tears left in you. It had simply ended you.

All your lies, every single one of them, destroyed. But you needed them. Of course you weren't talking to her by text, you never did. And fuck, you don't even want to know who was answering instead of her. It was so obvious how she never wanted to call, how she was never leaving her house. But the eye you saw at the peephole. The fucking eye...

You don't want to think about it.

Ethan tried to talk to you. He went to your hotel and found you. You didn't bother to move this time as you were done with your life. He fell to his knee and started begging and crying for your forgivness. Did you even love him ? Or were you, are you, just lonely ? Unfortunately, you decided to forgot the anger you had against him when you realized he was the only thing you had. Your only support. The only one knowing you were a victim. You spent the days crying in his arms.

"Shhh, shhh, I'm here, love. It's okay." he reassured you, again.

It was a routine, now. You'd sleep the days away and when you'd wake up, you'd find yourself crying inconsolably. Everything was your fault, you kept repeating in your head. She's fucking dead because of you.

You wanted to end it all but Ethan wanted you alive at every cost. He was brushing your hair, feeding, washing and changing you. You were a lifeless doll. Sometimes, his roomate would come and talk to you. Most of the times, you don't even realize he's talking to you, too lost in your thought to proceed his presence.

"It's okay, everything's okay."

Ethan hugs you firmly. Kissing your hairline. His t-shirt was damped. Your eyes were burning. Every time you closed them, the picture of your friend would come and haunt you, a new nightmare coming. You weren't able to think about something else anymore. But it was your fault. You put her in danger, you got her killed. It was you Ghostface wanted, not her. You got her killed.

"I want to leave..." you whispered in a voice so hoarse, so weak, it didn't sound like yours. His hand goes on the back of your head to pull you towards him.

"No, no my love. It's okay. I'll protect you. You won't be alone anymore." his leg goes over yours and crushes them to prevents you from moving.

Alone.

Have you ever been alone in your life ? No, he was here all along. He was watching you all along. You never were truly alone. He had your adress, your friend's adress, your number and even Ethan's name. No, he's always here. Lurking.

"Just... Stay with me, I'll protect you. Please, don't leave me." he begs.

He looked calm, surprisingly calm being given the situation. But you needed it, in a way. If he doesn't freak out, you don't need to. (you coudn't, even if you wanted to) He probably know what to do. It was too late for you but he could do something. Maybe. His behaviour was slightly comforting. It was dangerous, mostly for him. He probably didn't even know what he was doing, he probably didn't know what he was getting himself into, in fact.

But once, just for once, you wanted to be helped. You wanted someone to listen to your pleas. He was going to die, it was a fact. And yeah, maybe you were selfish, you were condamning him after all.

"I feel like I'm using you. Like I manipulated you. you say, mostly for your own conscience than for his safety.

-Use me, love. I don't care. Manipulate me, whatever. I swore I'd help you. And if I have to risk my life doing it, I'll do it. I love you. You don't know the things I'd do for you.

-Now, you're the one manipulating me...

It was true. He was forcing you to think you had a chance in getting out of this situation when you knew there were none.

-Oh baby, you have no idea how manipulative I can be to obtain what I want.

-If you say so." you whisper, drifting to sleep once again, knowing you'd wake up hours later in the same position, in the same problem and knowing you killed your friend.

[felixravinstills]

Hi, we’ve not met but I’ve been thinking about this post of yours & it also has me going insane. Funnily enough, I made a Tik tok about this ages ago but I also wrote it so I’ll just put that in. I just love discoing the education in the Capitol v Districts, it’s one of few things I was surprised of in the TBOSBAS and sooo happy to dissect!

We know in the districts that they just have a constant, pre-k to high school public-school like education system that is heavily doctored and monitored by the government. We also have the training academies which most think of as an after-school program, but that’s still ultimately funded by and for the government to continue the cycle of propaganda and indoctrination.

Now what we learn in TBOSBAS is fascinating because although it has the same foundation as the districts with it being heavily propagandized, but they have the option (or opportunity if they are financially stable or have enough nepotism) to continue their education after their time at The Academy. The idea of The University as this inaccessible, elitist symbol for Capitol children to strive for as a way to grow and climb the social/political/economic ladder of the city is the complete opposite of the idea of education in the districts.

School is where children go to get their daily dose of propaganda, then if they’re old enough, they go to work. And so-on and so-on until they are reaped or graduate and dedicate their lives to their trades, their slavery.

The education system in The Capitol is a symbol of hope for success, whereas in the districts it is a symbol of stagnancy until work or death.

Hi! Yes, education in Panem is really interesting to think about, and I love what you've pointed out here! It is really interesting the juxtaposition of how education is framed in the Districts vs. the Capitol.

I was talking with other people once about the other schools in the Capitol as Coriolanus mentions other secondary schools. I wonder how much a disparity there might be between those schools and the Academy (I mean they apparently end school sooner in the year than the Academy, so that already feels like a big difference if the Academy, so I'm sure there are other differences). The Academy of course seems to be the premiere secondary school in the city with potentially special ties to the University? (It would make sense since the Capitol's leading families all go to the Academy but they also are geographically close to each other since Snow can walk from the University to the Academy in the Epilogue).

It would be interesting if as you point out the education system in the Capitol is seen as a hope for success, but due to the requirements (tuition and whatever academic standards have to be met), it is actually mostly the affluent students from the Academy attending. Maybe, the Capitol presents itself as a meritocracy but still preferring the already wealthy and elite families. Coriolanus does mention that the University has more people and more types of people (Ch. 19), but for me, it would make sense that the actual statistical breakdown would show a majority of the students coming from the Academy.

Referencing the University with a capital U most of the time, also leads me to believe that it is the only university in the Capitol? Although the occasional uses of lowercase university does make it possible that there are others.

I often wonder about the middle to lower class of the Capitol since Coriolanus mentions in TBOSAS that there's a bit of an unemployment crisis going on. I suppose there is a bit of an implication that the Games might be providing new jobs in the future to help with that though as they gain popularity though, and joining the Peacekeepers seems like a common enough thing to do.

Anyway, it's a bit sleepy writing this, so sorry, if it's a bit ramble-y/if there isn't really anything too insightful in here, but again, what you brought up is really cool! It makes me want to re-read the OG Trilogy to remember more of the smaller worldbuilding details (education-based and otherwise!)

[fallloverfic]

I am legitimately confused by repeated comments that ORV's opening is slow or boring or uninteresting, especially people who say you need to read [insert some very large number of pages/chapters] to get to the "good" parts. I've seen this on multiple socials at this point and I originally wrote this post months ago, but recent potential news has brought back people saying this again, particularly in recommending it to other people/trying to get other people into it.

I would personally argue that ORV has a good opening. A very good opening. And the early part of it is very good, too.

ORV opens with a literal train of angst, attempted friendship, workplace harassment (Sangah getting harassed by her boss), some neat Korean folklore (dokkaebis hello), graphic violence (remember when Bihyeong just kills the president on TV?), a group of people in a subway attempting to beat an old woman to death, Dokja winning a pissing contest with a teenage edgelord, a bunch of people getting murdered, bonding in times in despair over a really unique form of problem solving, a man breaking open subway doors with his bare arms, young love, and magic, fleeing onto a bridge that gets exploded to bits by an evil gremlin, a horde of zombies appearing, the protagonist getting new magic powers, and then his getting held by the neck over said broken bridge in a complex back and forth with the "true" story protagonist before getting dropped into the mouth of a giant sea monster.

It covers topics like the limits of human compassion in times of strife, the complicated presence of the military (Dokja hated his time being drafted v Hyeonseong's military leadership doesn't save anyone), international relations (Sangah is learning Spanish), trope subversion (I mean it is and isn't the entire book and Dokja's character, but he's constantly trying to be 5-10 steps ahead of what's going on, including literally fleeing Junghyeok until Junghyeok grabs him by the collar), workplace harassment, bullying, and it's all taking place during multiple apocalypse scenarios.

This is the like first 11 chapters of the book. And it never stops. There are "slower" moments, moments where characters take a breather (like it takes a while for Dokja to negotiate his contract with Bihyeong, which is slow if you ignore the fact Dokja is arguing with an interdimensional being/alien for the limits of his own life and autonomy in the most dangerous streaming event imaginable, knowing he may still die if he gambles wrong on his personal wikipedia brain), but it's still frequently confrontational, whether that confrontation is about what characters mean to each other, what lives are at stake, finding your purpose in life, adaptability to complex circumstances, overcoming trauma and self-doubt...

And it's more intense in a way in the manhwa adaptation because you can clearly see most of it visualized (e.g., how visually wrecked the characters get, how young the kids are, how terrifying the monsters are, how scary the odds are, and how dangerous Dokja's gambles can really get with a fickle streaming audience), and Sleepy-C's art is gorgeous.

I just have to wonder (though this is more of a rhetorical question), what on earth do people consider fast? Because I am quite honestly terrified of what the answer is.

Like I get that ORV is long. It can be hard to recommend very long books to folks (and as the manhwa keeps going, long comics). To each their own, everyone is different, what appeals to me won't appeal to others. But there's a difference between "it's hard to recommend a very long work to someone" and "it's hard to recommend something that's long and takes a while to get into", and maybe folks are just writing the former a bit weirdly. I completely understand having trouble recommending long series to people. Also ORV has a very complex plot and I don't blame folks having trouble recommending that. I'm writing fic for later parts of orv and other manhwa and I dread explaining all the context for all that to someone who hasn't read them.

That being said, ORV has a very good introduction. Both chapter 1 of the novel and episode 1 of the manhwa are very good. They're not perfect, I can't say I was hooked from the immediate moment I started reading the page, but both of them have good introductions and it doesn't stop, and there's stuff to love in just about every chapter/episode, and I was definitely hooked enough by the time I finished to keep going to chapter/episode 2. Chapter 1 of the novel has great angst and character building, and it's funny and sweet and tragic. When I first read Dokja trying, earnestly, to recommend TWSA and getting harassed about it and worrying it will hurt this art and artist he cares about, but not being able to do much else to give thanks for this experience because of his circumstances, I cried. The first page/episode of the manhwa has them delicious boys love vibes and gorgeous art (and cute baby Dokja, I die for him), and the promise of a fascinating story ahead, and then the following page/episode has more gorgeous art and angst and great characters (combining them cause the first page feels sort of more like a teaser than a first page, though Episode 0 ends with a spread of Kimcom that makes me tear up). We'll unfortunately never know if I'd have loved ORV as much if I'd read the novel first, but I like to think I would cause ORV's opening is just that good.

I just truly, truly do not understand the sentiment that idk the opening and the first [insert large number of pages/chapters] aren't good or interesting or engaging enough. Maybe I'm out of touch. To each their own on what appeals, maybe I'm built different (doubt it though) but it just feels kind of dismissive of ORV's opening, in both the novel and the manhwa, which are both really good. Will it win over everyone? No. It's fine if you weren't grabbed by the opening or the first [insert however many pages/chapters/arcs]. It's fine if you took a while, even a long while to get into it, or never really did, and maybe don't like the manhwa, which is a great gateway into the story, or don't like the novel for whatever reason and prefer the manhwa. And at the end of the day it's just random opinions online, we all have different ones. Make the posts that appeal to you on your blog, complain on your socmed, whatever. But the opening is good, it keeps you very engaged with a lot of difficult scenarios, the characters are great and fun and funny, in those parts especially, and idk why I'm supposed to pretend that's not the case.

Anyway I don't like writing complaint posts. The opening and general start are excellent and Imma go back and cry over Dokja again ty singNsong for my tears.

[ca11istee]

WIP Whatever-Day-It-Is

i got tagged this past week by three people (@ghostoracle, @seraphfighter, and @beammeupbroadway, ily3 and tysm ❤️) to share a wip. i guess it’s time to let the cat out of the bag? here’s the first scene of the sequel i’m writing for that vampire!johnny silverhand fic i posted last week, ptolemaea🧛

tagging everyone on tumblr with all of the pressure (jk, but if you see this and wanna share something, please do ✨)

She could feel eyes on her. Ever since she had brought that stranger home, the feeling of being stalked never went away, not completely. For the first couple of weeks, it had started to recede. She would feel the prickling fear less and less. Even so, she hadn’t left her apartment when it wasn’t necessary, especially not at night.

V was alone in her apartment, cooped up with a cup of spicy instant noodles and an open bottle of Broseph on her coffee table. She wasn’t sleepy beforehand; she’d only done a straightforward gig that afternoon, something barely enough to put food in her belly that night. Then suddenly, her eyes were drooping, and she heard her front door unlock and swing open.

V struggled to open her eyes again; that prickling feeling raised the hairs on the back of her neck, but abruptly felt too sleepy to care. Her head lulled to the side, and her cup of noodles tilted dangerously to the side in her loose grip– before it was softly taken and set aside.

A body slid in behind her on the couch, left arm snaking around her limp form as their chest settled behind her right shoulder.

“Evenin’ baby girl,” she heard a soft, smoky voice mutter unto the top of her head, and suddenly the foreboding sense of dread vanished. It was replaced with something soothing, like a balm over a painful burn.

V was barely conscious at that moment, and could merely hum contently in response as she felt a hand brush through her hair, pushing her wispy bangs back from her forehead. She tried to open her eyes as the scent of bitter citrus and musky wood met her nose, and tried once more as that left hand slid up her ribs and gently groped her breast through her shirt. Beneath her blanket cocoon, she was only in a t-shirt and underwear since she had no plans for company or leaving until the next day.

“You miss me?” the familiar voice asked softly, darkness hiding behind the innocent query. She could feel a short beard scratching against the side of her face as the voice whispered to her, “Couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout me. I could fuckin’ feel it.” The left hand gave her breast another harder squeeze, and her body sighed in response. “Drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy,” the owner of the voice kissed the shell of her ear after, as if he were punctuating his statement.

The hand under the blanket with her was trailing south now, and she felt her thighs tingling from the cold metal that reached between them, cupping the juncture where her legs met. The palm rubbed over her underwear, creating gentle friction beneath the fabric. Again, Valerie sighed, her hips twitching upward involuntarily.

“Really shouldn’t be sleepin’ on your couch, sweetheart,” she felt teeth grazing her earlobe before the voice added, “Let’s go to bed, huh?”

The palm left her, leaving much to be desired. Next, she felt the blanket get tossed off her before being pulled into the stranger’s lap and lifted into the air.

That was the last thing she remembered from that evening before the familiar droning of her alarm roused her from sleep. Her limbs felt lifeless and heavy, and she could barely open her eyes. She was spread eagle, sheets tangled between her legs as she lay on her back, trying to focus on her ceiling.

Once again, she was unbearably thirsty, but she may have passed out a few more times, before she finally mustered up the strength to roll to her side and shut off her alarm.

Half past one. It was half past fucking one in the afternoon. At least this time, she did have something to drink at her bedside, an energy drink, too, at that. How old it was was anyone’s guess– she wasn’t fond of Spunky Monkey since the high sugar content always gave her the jitters.

She reached out for the can and picked it up, trying to crane her head so she wouldn’t have to sit up and take a drink. Only, as she brought the can to her lips, all she was met with was cool metal. Confused, V pulled the can away to inspect the mouth but found it wasn’t open. Blinking at it in confusion, she shifted to prop herself up before pulling the tab. The fizzy drink bubbled up in a spray as she did, and then she finally took a sip. The tangly liquid flooded down her throat as quickly as she could gulp without making herself sick from the carbonation. V tried not to think about how suddenly a brand new can of Spunky Monkey was on her nightstand as she drank the entire contents. She must have bought it instead of her usual Cirrus or Tiancha by accident and forgotten.

When she finally dragged herself out of bed, it was to wander into her kitchen to get another drink, because one can of Spunky Monkey hadn’t cut it. For once, she was craving actual water. She doubted she could scrape up the creds to buy an entire gallon, but even a small, eight-ounce bottle sounded positively divine.

Twelve eddies lighter and one tiny plastic bottle crushed in her right palm, V noticed something odd. Her blanket from last night had been neatly folded and placed over the back of her couch, which wasn’t typical for her unless she had company over. It was folded inside out, too; the fuzzy side was on the outside instead of the smoother side. She tried to think how tired or drunk she must have been before realizing her cup of instant noodles and bottle of beer were missing from her coffee table.

The crushed plastic bottle dropped out of V’s hand as she turned and ran, albeit dizzily and weakly, into her bathroom. Her left palm slammed on the light switch as her right turned on her mirror, and after another half second, she turned around, away from her reflection, with her hands over her mouth.

The mark was back. It had disappeared only a day or two after her fever dream of an encounter with Johnny, leaving her skin perfectly intact. But the two dark purple bruises were back, marring the side of her neck in almost exactly the same place.

[everafterkeiji]

ah! ok, um, is it ok if i request a hc with any of the hq and bnha boys ur comfortable writing for (u can do however many u feel like :)) with an s/o who’s scared of the dark? maybe add a little something about one of them getting glow in the dark stars for y/n’s room and saying that the stars are there in the dark to protect them? idk if that’s cheesy or not lol but yeah, i’m afraid i’m a bit of a scaredy-cat myself so i rush into my room as fast as i can when turning off the lights hehe. anyways, take ur time and take care of yourself ily <33

A/N: and I'm back- im v sorry for taking so long but I'll be posting the haikyuu one in another part but thank you so much for requesting kate love u v much mwah ʕ´• ᴥ•̥`ʔ

BNHA Boys Reacting to Y/N being afraid of the dark!

𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐘𝐀 will not hesitate to visit your room often as he could and provides light in the best of ways.

When he first found out, he deeply understood and offered to walk you on your way home when it was getting a little too late from training then he soon found himself nervously knocking your door in the middle of the night to see how you're doing.

"Hey- it's very late but are you o-okay?" He asks, a hand to the back of his neck with worried eyes as you stare at him with a smile- a little embarrassed that you were face to face with him in your sleep wear.

"Honestly, I couldn't sleep properly." You answered while he frowns, upset that you were probably up all night. With an idea lighting up in his mind, he speaks.

"I'll be back okay? Leave the door open for me. I'm just going to get something." He says with a smile while you nodded while he dashes off looking excited. You proceeded to your bed waiting for him, enjoying the light that the open door gave you. A few minutes pass and a panting Deku with multiple objects in hand. You chuckled at the sight while you let him in as he closes the door before letting a flashlight lit the room.

"What's all this?" You asked, pointing to the materials laid out on your bed while a blush creeps up on the boys cheek.

"I thought that I could make more of those light up stars to help you sleep better." Izuku says while your heart flutters at his comment.

"Let's do it then."

𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎 will be your night light and he'll also be the type to wait until you were asleep so he can make sure you're safe with him.

"What is it- oi stop moving around." Bakugo says while you shuffle in your sheets as your boyfriend questions your nervousness. Was it because it was your first night together? Fair enough, he hasn't known about that fear of yours but he's beginning to put the pieces all at once when he feels your grip on him tighten.

"Sheesh, it's just darkness." He says scoffing before you roll your eyes, pushing him off jokingly while you let your eyes close trying to ease the anxiety.

Seeing that you turned away from him, he sighs before pulling you to him, nudging you with his elbow.

"Look at this." He says while he sits up and you following his actions. The palm of his emits light, surprising you with the sound of a tiny explosion. He continues to hold it out in front of you, seeing the darkness of your room fade being replaced in orange tinted shadows.

"Bakugo- you don't have to do this. I'll be fine." You assured him so he doesn't overuse his quirk before classes. Although it was a small spark, you knew better than to keep him from resting.

"Stop lying. Just.. sleep. I'll be here anyways." The last bit of his sentence trailed off as if he was nervous to show his concern but sighing in defeat, you laid down slinging an arm over his waist, cuddling up on his side enjoying his warmth. You smile at him before speaking.

"Thank you, Katsuki." You bid him before closing your eyes while he sighs as well, wrapping his free arm around your shoulder watching you fall quietly.

He stares at the dirty light up stars on your room while he takes a mental note to remove them since he was always up to help you.

Once he feels how deep in slumber you were, the explosions from his hands die down while he lies with you slowly, careful to not wake you.

He looks at your sleeping state before sighing remembering that you feared this dark room. He then plants a swift kiss on your hair, looking at you once again.

"I'll be right here every day."

𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀 would simply let you fall asleep to his nightly stories to make sure your mind doesn't fall on the hands of fear.

"Then Bakugo taught me how to dodge the attack without using my quirk then use my agility instead!" Kirishima rants following some hand movements as you chuckle with you on his chest as he carries on. He feels how your grip has loosened compared to how it was when he first got in bed with you.

With his endless stories, he too notices how your eyes grew heavy.

"Too tired from today?" He asks softly, his hands lost in your hair making it harder to stay awake.

"Not really. I just stayed up too long cause I- got scared." He looks at you with concern, while he intertwines your hands with his.

"Scared of what babe?"

"Is it silly if I say the dark?" He blinks for a second but then he shakes his head before pulling you closer to him before landing a loving kiss to your temple.

"It's never silly, bub. Your savior is here!" He says proudly, a cheeky grin making you laugh as you hold onto him more, closing your eyes as he smiles at the sight of you. From this day onwards, it seems like he's got a new mission but this mission was way easier and more important than the rest because he'd save you thousands of times before seeing you scared to wits.

"You sure are a hero, Eiji."

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐈 would mindlessly offer his embrace.

After seeing how quick you were to run to your room on heavy hours of training when the sun got down, he wondered too much about you. It was either you had your own plans or maybe a certain villain was out to capture you. Both options still got him curious.

So the next day of training and learning about which weaknesses of yours could be encountered in a fight, he hears an answer from you that might have gained his interest on you more.

"I prefer to avoid fights when it's dark." You said to Momo, Shoto looks at you with raised eyebrows but he understood either way. If he had his own fears that got in his way, he's sure that yours can get in your way too. Knowing you two share the same liking to each other, he decided to step up and find a solution to lessen your fear.

So when he was right at your door, knocking lightly, he thinks if his phone provided him with the correct answers.

"Todoroki? Hi, what are you doing here?" You asked him, pulling him softly inside your room while he looks around seeing stars decorating the place. He mentally checks off one of the options seeing that you already bought some of them to ease the fear a bit.

"I overheard you with Yaoyorozu and I'm here to help with this. "

"With—"

You were cut off by the tall boy engulfing you in a sweet embrace with his chin on the crown of your head as his hands were placed on your waist as he disregards his racing heartbeat seeing that he put zero hesitation in doing the top option in his research.

"It's okay to be scared of the dark." he assures you, but your focus wasn't on his words— it was on the fact that held you this close and that he knew about your fear. You were thankful that he didn't think it was childish or pathetic but you were too busy thinking about how his first way of showing his concern was like this.

With that, you hugged him back and with his closed eyes, you two had smiles tugged on your lips.

"Thank you, Shoto."

𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐊𝐈 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈 lets your laugh echo through the room making you forget about all your worries.

Denki has always been charismatic when it comes to you. No matter how many jokes he threw, funny or not, you'd always smile or give him a reaction that he loves to receive but all jokes were sent aside when you mentioned your fear of darkness.

You brought up the topic when Sero had sparked up the conversation of what you hated the most and when you said yours, Kaminari was all ears and his mind began running on how to make things a little better for you. It must've been hard, he thinks. Darkness was everywhere so he had to help.

After some exhaustion from training and frustration from battling with Bakugo, he can tell how you were on edge as you went straight to your room after dinner. He knew sleeping peacefully wasn't going to be easy to accomplish today so he let his feet guide him to your room right when he finished his meal.

"Denki here!" He says while knocking. You open the door and he sees how you've wrapped yourself in a blanket, but your eyes bared no sign that you slept.

"Hey Kami, what're you doing here?" You asked him while he enters your room, pouting at how your lamp had flickering lights meaning it's energy was about to fail you. So, he walks right over to the lamp and places his hand on top of it and uses his quirk to make sure the light doesn't flicker anymore. Seeing that it was working properly again, he realizes he didn't want to leave yet.

"Oh thanks, Denki." You said smiling at him while he sits on your bed with an idea coming to his mind.

"I've got a story to tell!"

And a few minutes later, you've got yourself beside him with his arm draped on your shoulder while your laugh became too loud mixed with his making your sleepiness fade.

"Okay okay but you've got to sleep, Y/N. Don't overwork yourself tomorrow or else." He says with a chuckle while you laid down as he gets off your bed.

"Or else what Denki?"

"You'll find out tomorrow." he says, while you bid him goodnight. He comes closer to you just when you close your eyes as he gives a peck to your cheek while blushing furiously when your eyes opened at his actions. He immediately walks away muttering a quick good night as you chuckled when he sprints to the door making you turn off your lamp with a smile.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

Ask Game thingy that I just fully answered without getting numbers because Why Not

So, I like doing these, and people don't tend to send in numbers (which is fine, I completely understand, ha), so I just filled it out myself. I'm exhausted, so its humor is very dry, ha. It's kinda long, but I like doing them, so meh. Read it if you want, or don't. I ain't the boss of you. ^-^

(I will put a read more, though, for those of you who don't care. See? I can be considerate. :-D) (Also, these are from this post, for reference)

 weirdly specific and unrelated asks to know someone well:

1. Chipotle order? Uhhhhh none, chipotle is trash. Ha. Though honestly, I don’t tend to get Chipotle because my parents say it tends to be spicy and I’m allergic to capsaicin (I think), which is what makes pepper spicy. It tastes very metallic and like I’m being poisoned, and if I have too much it makes it hard for me to breathe. I’ve never had way too much, so it usually goes away after a few minutes, but it’s still unpleasant, so… I avoid it when I can, ha.

2. Thoughts on veganism? Eh, I’m… meh towards it. I get why people are vegan, but I think it’s a bit pointless. Eating locally sourced meat from a reputable farm/location you trust is better for animals and the environment than just… not eating meat, usually. And I don’t see the problem with eating certain animal products, especially if they’re sourced like previously mentioned. But hey, to each their own. As long as people who are vegan don’t give me grief over me eating meat/animal products, I don’t really care. Though, my high school bio teacher was a vegan and because of that we didn’t have to do animal dissections, which I was SUPER pleased with. So… thanks for that.

3.A specific color that gives you the ick? Hmm… nothing that’s too bad, but I’m not the biggest fan of dull yellow or orange colors. Honestly, I don’t like yellow or orange too much in general, since they’re too bright for me, though the more muddied, dulled version make me go meh.

4. Mythical creature you think/believe is real? My motivation to write stories. I will find it one day, I promise. V,(-.-)

5. Favorite form of potato? The famed furry potatoes with legs.

(My two furry potatoes with legs for reference. The left is Rosie, who is 3 years old, and the right is Adelaide, who I call Addle, and is a year-ish. She replaced Sara, who sadly passed away the day after Thanksgiving, since we couldn’t get her to a vet when she got sick on Thanksgiving since it was, ya know... Thanksgiving. I still miss her. ._.) 

(A sleepy baby Sara for reference. Rest in Peace, sweetheart. ._.)

6. Do you use a watch? Only when I’m at work. In fact, without my watch at work, I feel adrift, ha. I forgot it while at work this morning with the preschool I was subbing at, and I was so disoriented. Also, fun fact, if you do something literally one time around a preschooler, they will always assume you do it. I brought a snack with me during their outside time on Friday since I didn’t have time to eat a big breakfast, and today the kids were all “Ms. Katie!!! What snack did you bring today????” And I was like… child, peace. That was ONE TIME. Then I showed them the Rice Krispy Treat I had in my pocket. The children approved.

7.What animal do you look forward to seeing when you visit an aquarium? I like sea jellies (as my marine science teacher insisted on calling them in high school). They be neat.

8. Do you change into specific clothes for the house when you get home? Pssh, NO. I wear the same thing all day, every day. And for pajamas, I just get into older, more worn versions of my everyday clothes. Graphic shirt with yoga pants combo for the win, please.

9. Do you have a skincare routine (and how many steps is it)? I have to since my skin is so bleh. It’s not super extensive, though, since I have no patience. I use two kinds of face cleanser whenever I take a bath (which is twice a day, which I KNOW IS BAD FOR MY SKIN, BUT WHATEVER, IT’S A PATTERN SO WHATEVS), and then I use a face moisturizer/sunscreen that doesn’t make my skin itch in the day, and an acne cream at night. I didn’t used to use the moisturizer, but my skin has been feeling dry for a while, probably from all the washing, so I started using it. Plus, I’m outside a lot more often for my job, and I don’t want to burn, even though I don’t burn easily. Despite being pale white, ha.

10. On a plane, do you ask for apple or orange juice? Ehhh… neither, since they’re usually gross. I ask for nothing if I can help it, since I don’t like the pressure of having an open drink on my table. I usually buy a bottle of diet soda in the airport before, which I can close when I want. Less pressure.

11. Anything from your childhood you’ve held on to? My baby doll, Claire. I still sleep with her every night, because if I don’t, she WILL rise up and murder me. It is a Fact. :-)

12. Brand of haircare/bodycare/skincare that you trust 100%? Uh, none???? Who the hell trusts any brand at all??????? They’re all there to screw you over, babe. Even the “ethical” ones. The earlier you realize that, the happier you’ll be. Just buy whatever is less messed up. F*** it.

13. First thing you’re doing in the purge? Hiding in my house with my loved ones, because screw that noise. I’m not going to commit a crime just because it’s “legal.” Laws aren’t what keeps me from doing “illegal” things. It’s my own moral code, which may not be as strict as Taka’s, but is still pretty strong to me. Also, I’d never risk my or my family's lives for anything, and while I’ve never seen The Purge, I believe it would get pretty bloody.

14. Do you think you’re dehydrated?

Right now? Probably. I never drink water, only diet soda. RIP my insides.

15. Rank the methods of death: freezing, burning, drowning Um, no thanks. I’m deathly afraid of death and thinking about it at all terrifies me to the point of panic attacks, sometimes. All methods of death are terrifying to me, no matter what. I’d want to see it coming, though. Even if my last minutes are ones of terror, I’d want to see it coming. And that’s all I’ll say on that, since I can feel the anxiety creeping up, oof.

16. Thoughts on mint chocolate chip? It’s alright.

17. An anxious compulsion you do every day? Uh…….. I don’t even know, since they’re all so common place to me nowadays that I don’t even notice them, to be honest. I’m very avoidant with my anxiety, so it often goes unnoticed by me until I’m forced to confront it. OH! Wait. I play with my hands a lot. Like... twist my fingers and fiddling with my cuticles, things like that. I never even noticed I did it until my neurologist (I had migraines as a kid and saw numerous neurologists for it) asked me if I was nervous when I met with him when I was 15. And I was like... no??? And he mentioned my hands. And I was like. Oh. No, I always do that. Which I do, to the point I don’t notice it still. It wasn’t until I did it while reading over this for errors that I remembered, ha. I also compulsively reread what I write to make sure there are no errors. Which is why editing TPWM takes ages, ha. 

18. Your boba/tea order? I don’t tend to get boba? There is a place near my apartment I used to go to where I would get a strawberry tea with vanilla ice cream and leche jelly drink, but one day I found a hair in my drink (short and black, very different from my long, strawberry blonde hair) and they refused to give me a refund, so I don’t order from them anymore. I used to dislike tea, in general, but recently I’ve found that I like fruit teas, primarily raspberry tea. No caffeine since caffeine sometimes makes me feel sick. Also black/green tea is bitter to me. I bought an expensive, fancy black tea while at the Louvre in Paris, and it was, uh… gross. Paris in general was gross, to be honest. 3/10 stars.

19. The veggie you dislike the most? Ehhh, it’s a tossup. I don’t like veggies much. I like more than I used to, though, which is something. But I hate celery a lot since I was forced to eat it by my preschool and I HATED celery. I also hate tomatoes since I was forced to dissect one in third grade and count all the seeds (which, by the by, was well over 100. One group got a seedless orange. A SEEDLESS. ORANGE. I’m still salty 15 years later), but tomatoes aren’t veggies. I just wanted to go on my tomato rant. Yes, I am petty and I never forget anything. Expect names. And many things, actually. My memory is the worst. :-) But at least I still remember tomato related injustices 15 years after the fact. 

20. Favorite Disney princess movie? Hm. When I was a kid, it was The Little Mermaid. Now, I’d say… hm… probably Moana? Moana is a really solid movie, honestly. 

21. A number that weirds you out? None??????

22. Do you have an emotional support water bottle? No. I just use plastic ones since the taste of filtered water grosses me out. Should I ever drink water, that is. Yes, this makes plastic waste. My apologies. I make up for it by not drinking water often.

23. Do you wear jewelry? Just my modest pair of earrings, since necklaces, bracelets, rings, etc. feel weird on my skin. I used to wear a ring, when I was in middle school, but I stopped that a long time ago. I have sensitive skin, so I don’t tend to like things touching me for long, or else it begins to irritate my skin. And me, honestly. Also, my earrings are basic lever back earrings that don’t dangle, since dangling earrings annoy me.

24. Which do you find yourself using, American or British English? American, since I am America (and yes, I meant to write American there, but I think this typo is more fitting for an American like myself). I do sometimes use British English phrases, though, if I prefer the sound of it. I’m a chameleon for language quirks, so I just pick up whatever sounds good to my ear.

25. Would you say you have good taste in music? Not necessarily. I would say I have an eclectic taste in music. My combined iTunes playlist has almost every genre you can think of represented at least once. I dislike screamo/death metal and rap more than others, but I still have a couple songs from those genres that I like. I like my music, though, so it doesn’t matter if it is “good.” What matters is I like it, you know? Honestly, you can get a decent representation of my music taste by listening to the music playlist I made for TPWP, ha.

26. How’s your spice tolerance? As I said earlier, non-existent. I’m allergic to spice, pretty much, and will get uncomfortable with even slight spice. I can’t even take ground black pepper in high quantities.

27. What’s your favorite or go-to outfit? I just wear graphic shirts and yoga pants, my dude.

28. Last meal on earth? Eh. Probably a really good streak and shrimp/lobster meal. Maybe with some nice pasta on the side. Like a fettucine alfredo, or something similar. Go big or go home, prison who has finally imprisoned me for my Numerous Crimes (™).

29. Preferred pasta noodle? Hm… I like spaghetti, honestly. My dad (who makes us dinner each night. Yes, I still live at home. No, it’s not that big of a problem for me since I have a decent relationship with my family, and it’s hella cheaper than getting my own place in my neck of the woods) doesn’t make it often, though, since my mom (who is disabled) chokes on it easier than other pastas.

30. Ask me anything! I will y’all this question instead: If you could have one thing in the world right now— physical or metaphysical, real or abstract— what would it be and why?

(Also, fun fact. Tumblr’s beta post thingy doesn’t allow for long posts. Rude. Get on that Tumblr. Luckily they still let you use the old posting system.)  

[omegangrins]

Universal took Tremors from its creators after 30 years of work.

TL;DR After 25-30 years making the series, Brent Maddock, Michael Gross, Nancy Roberts, Ron Underwood and S.S. Wilson were kicked out so Universal Studios could make more money off the merchandising before the Tremors copyright expires in 2025.

*****MAJOR SPOILERS**** This will make you sad, angry and frustrated. But there is hope. #StampedeTremors

Soooooo, ever since I blew up and sidetracked a post about David Fincher's Queen Biopic with Sacha Baron Cohen as Freddie Mercury discussing the Tremors 7 ending, I've done some more research on the whole thing. The Graboid hole for this goes deep.

Michael Gross didn't want it.

“There’s a part of me that feels that Universal Home Entertainment might’ve had enough of Tremors. The suggestions that were made in the course of this [movie] made me think maybe they’ve had enough. They came to me and said, ‘What if we ended it at 7?’ and I said, ‘Whatever you choose to do, I’m good with that.'” “That being said, The door is still open for an eighth Tremors. It may seem unlikely by what people see on the screen, but it is possible. There could be an eighth. And if there were, and if it were an interesting story, I would be up for it because Burt is always a great deal of fun. It would depend on his physicality. How much they want me to do. If it’s in another two years, I’ll be 75 years old. So I will continue to hope and pray that I stay in shape, to do what is asked of me – if it is asked of me.”

AND Universal even killed off any ambiguity that he fought for.

"We shot it both ways, where everybody's mourning Burt, and he climbs up over the cliff and looks at all of them in mourning and goes, 'Jesus, God, I'm not dead. And he's really pissed off at them. It's like, 'How would you possibly think...?' But he's bloodied, just he's a mess. He looks like he's been through an earthquake, crushed by a house, but he's alive. And he says, 'You idiots. Of course, I'm alive.'" "They decided it just had this punch. Frankly, I thought to myself -- I didn't express it to them, but I thought to myself -- 'Maybe Universal's getting a little tired of this franchise.' Because this wasn't my idea." "I said, 'I can live with this. Because they came to me. They said, 'Look, you've been doing this so long. What do you think?' And I said, 'Well, as long as we kind of leave the door open.' I mean, I can kind of see an eighth film where it opens with Burt in a hospital bed, in a full body cast and saying, 'I survived.' He could hardly move a muscle. And maybe eight is...if I had a concept for eight, it would be Burt horribly injured, but in a motorized, weaponized wheelchair that has rocket mounts on the side and can leave an oil slick behind like James Bond's car. So nobody can chase him." "I always said, if Kevin Bacon or Fred [Ward] or Reba [McIntire] or anybody [wanted to return], I'd be there in a minute. Just because one, I love Burt, but I always thought of him as this guy kind of on the fringes, and I just came to the fore because everybody else walked away."

https://bloody-disgusting.com/movie/3637682/michael-gross-says-door-still-open-potential-eighth-tremors-movie/

https://comicbook.com/movies/news/tremors-shrieker-island-michael-gross-on-burt-gummer-death/

While Universal ignored how Michael Gross was setting up his son Travis Welker to pick up his torch (Which I'm give or take on Jamie Kennedy yet he brought a Grady-like optimism to the shittier of the series.)

"My reaction was disappointment, as I had planned an entire storyline around his participation."

Even Jamie Kennedy tried to but they wouldn't let him.

"Lot of people have been asking me, so I might as well spill it. I will NOT be in the upcoming TREMORS 7. I had a great time making the last two. But no TRAVIS this time around. But hey you neva’ know what can happen in the future.... have a great time boys! Tdawg out!!!"

https://mobile.twitter.com/JamieKennedy/status/1188981479973347329

After 7 movies and a TV show, nothing more than a spit in the face for the man who carried a franchise. Then when they do the montage at the end, we get clips of Hiram Gummer but NOTHING of Burt Gummer from the TV show. It's 13 episodes of Burt in Tremors that's longer than all the movies combined but yet they don't even include it in the ending montage while including his dead grandpa.

Same with the original creators. Did you know Stampede Entertainment (Brent Maddock, Nancy Roberts, Ron Underwood, and S.S. Wilson) were working on Tremors for 25 years and even had the 5th one written, "Thunder/Gummer Down Under".

Then were told to sit on it for 10 years before Universal eventually told them to eat dirt? That's gotta hurt. It hurts me and I'm not even connected to these movies. All that work down the drain just because of someone's say so. And for no reason. Well not exactly....

Universal knows fans want Tremors merch. I mean, look at how they took #BurtGummerDay from @BabyFarkMcGeeZax. And they want ALLLLLL of that merchandising money. With none of it going to Stampede because it would give them leverage. Not to mention they don't want anyone else getting the idea to make cute monster toys before they can roll out their own line.

Don't believe me? See Universal pull some Hollywood Accounting with Tremors already.

http://imgur.com/gallery/mFNIHV3

Half a billion dollars... completely untraceable. I've tried. Emailed the numbers people and they can't tell me anything unless you pay $50 a film to see the numbers. Which makes me ask, who paid for the numbers on 1,5, 6, & 7? And why only what they made? Not their cost. Same for the numbers on 2, 3, & 4. Why numbers on the cost, but nothing on what it made? It seems weirdly targeted to make it look like the Stampede Entertainment ones only cost money but made nothing.

Then when you find out that the copyright to Tremors will revert to its creators after the 35 year mark, which makes that date 2024-2025 since Tremors was filmed in '88-'89 but released in '90.....

Wellllllll some things start to add up. Especially when you consider it's Universal. They already know about owning copyrights for things long out of due. Ask Dracula, Frankenstein and the Wolfman. Or Nintendo when Universal tried to sue them because Donkey Kong was too similar to King Kong.

Ask Stampede (S.S. Wilson) yourself. They have a Question and Answer page right on their site.

Like did you know you can't find ANY official Tremors merch? But you CAN find tons of fan-made creations. Give it a Google. They don't even list Tremors on the Universal website. Go ahead. Ask them. I try weekly. No responses ever.

https://www.universalpictures.com/about

Even with a longer history, more money made, and amount of sequel potential in comparison to their other films?

http://imgur.com/gallery/ZnXEsI3

Fans are clamoring for more but Universal says no?

Hell, you can watch the TV show for free on the NBC site.

But before my investigating, the episodes were so jumbled and missing it would ruin people's enjoyment.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Tremors/comments/m0wvwu/tremors_episode_9_graboid_rights_is_back_on_nbc/

What about how they made a Tremors series pilot with Kevin Bacon? The only bad thing about it is that they need to pull a Sonic redo on the Graboid at the end but who knows, I suspect it's like that for plot reasons after reading the unaired script.

https://youtu.be/hWU3GpKmIvw

That Universal/NBC/SyFy has proceeded to hide deeper than a Graboid burrows. https://wegotthiscovered.com/movies/tremors-star-kevin-bacon-confused-sequel-series-picked/

Despite no one knowing why. http://imgur.com/gallery/w7rbUvZ

Read the script for yourself if you don't believe me. They've already hidden it for two years. Andrew Miller worked too hard for it to be hidden. And it plays. It works and plays with what's already there while being new and old. Quite good.

Have you seen the Kevin Bacon/Michael Gross commercial featuring them in Perfection Valley? The whole commercial is a sly way to use Tremors WITHOUT actually saying anything Universal would have claim to call copyright on. "Sandworms" "My old co-star" "Trevors". It's a great big middle finger to Universal.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=E_O0K9hmlrw

How about the original script for Tremors 2: Aftershocks. The creators have wanted it seen for 20 years but it took a crazy Larry like me to get it out there. It's got Val, Earl, Burt and Heather in it too. Pretty good too. So good they reused the ending in the TV show episode "Shriek and Destroy".

All these things swirl together and make me wonder more and more. For the plethora of Tremors fandom goes deeper than even me... Like Imgur user @BabyFarkMcGeeZax. They created Burt Gummer Day five years ago through sweat and love alone.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Tremors/comments/mb2rtz/babyfarkmcgeezax_created_burt_gummer_day_and/

Yet what does Universal do? Take the day, plaster it over the end of their hero's death, and not even give a line credit or thank you to @BabyFarkMcGeeZax or a mention on Twitter as they blurb it everywhere.

Ever seen the gif battles about Tremors at r/HighQualityGifs?

https://www.reddit.com/r/GifTournament/comments/luvt39/giftournament_battle_13_round_3/

https://www.reddit.com/r/HighQualityGifs/comments/dtz11k/battle_178_tremors/

How about The Everything Sequel podcast where they discuss how amazing all of The Tremors Saga is after discovering it for the first time. Even going so far as to pitch their own sequels.

https://share.transistor.fm/s/e24901de https://share.transistor.fm/s/bdea7b5e https://share.transistor.fm/s/cf79bbc1 https://share.transistor.fm/s/fac66438 https://share.transistor.fm/s/a90415cd https://share.transistor.fm/s/c0e8153e https://share.transistor.fm/s/6b6572f9

There's so much fan content and people screaming for more Tremors! Like "Perfection, NV", a fan film.

Or this collection of alt Tremors posters.

http://imgur.com/gallery/MgkhnfE

Including the thousands of pieces of fanart.

http://imgur.com/gallery/6f7Txh0

http://imgur.com/gallery/nXG1ph1

The story behind Tremors comics. http://www.enemyofpeanuts.com/2013/03/09/the-short-story-behind-tremors-comics/

Even the new Tremors game. OR games.

https://youtu.be/G6PX1QY2oIc

https://stefanocagnani90.itch.io/tremors-thegame

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tremors:_The_Game

https://www.playfg.com/dirt-dragons-game.html

Look at all this love.

And this isn't even an officially licensed game.

"A fortune", you say? Interesting....

So let's make Tremors 8 Ouroboros with the OG creators back on board.

https://imgur.com/gallery/o2kCFLu

We restart the TV show and end the movies for a while. Just like The Librarians. If Marvel can switch between movies and TV, Tremors can too.

If you think I'm crazy too, just see and know how I've been in this position before. I'm well aware of how this "story" plays out.

I mean, Tremors *does* foreshadows its ending with a sleeping bag. https://imgur.com/gallery/5HexQ

Notice too how you can find little Behind the Scenes for Tremors 5-7 despite a smorgasbord of material for 1-4 and both TV shows.

http://imgur.com/gallery/b4STAkl http://imgur.com/gallery/gSlZ1fC http://imgur.com/gallery/fnFt9MD http://imgur.com/gallery/6mDHTtg http://imgur.com/gallery/4M28quW http://imgur.com/gallery/w7rbUvZ http://imgur.com/gallery/6l0Dogl

And it's not like Universal isn't known for shady business practices. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Universal_Pictures

What about how they own the rights to damn near every monster except for Godzilla. And not just the classics like Frankenstein, Dracula, the Wolfman, Mummy and Invisible Man. They have Kong, Hulk, Jaws, Michael Myers, The Thing, all the Jurassic Park dinos, all the Romero zombies, Chucky, Casper, Riddick beasts, Hellboy, and Jaegers/Kaiju. These dudes know merchandising rights and they're looking to score the next Poke'Mon franchise.

https://www.plagiarismtoday.com/2011/10/24/how-universal-re-copyrighted-frankensteins-monster/

Take a gander at all these articles gushing with love for Tremors:

Why the 'Tremors' Franchise Is Better Than the 'Alien' Movies https://collider.com/why-the-tremors-franchise-is-better-than-the-alien-movies/

As Kevin Bacon's Tremors returns to TV, we explain the entire franchise ​It's way more complicated than you think. https://www.digitalspy.com/movies/a807140/tremors-franchise-series-guide-kevin-bacon/

20 Fun Facts About Tremors https://ew.com/article/1990/07/13/tremors/

Thirty Years After Tremors, Reba McEntire Tells Us Why She's Absolutely Down to Return For a Reboot https://www.esquire.com/entertainment/movies/a30457996/tremors-30-anniversary-reba-mcentire-interview/

30 years ago, Tremors became perhaps the most perfect bad movie https://www.thv11.com/mobile/article/entertainment/movies/film-on-11/getting-reel/30-years-ago-tremors-became-perhaps-the-most-perfect-bad-movie/91-8f6854df-9dcc-4870-ab3a-4f91a658ac3f

How Tremors 7 Succeeds Where Other Horror Movie Franchises Failhttps://screenrant.com/tremors-7-movie-succeeds-better-horror-movie-franchises-reason/

A Complete Rundown of the Entire Tremors Saga https://www.dreadcentral.com/editorials/363290/beneath-perfection-thoughts-on-the-entire-tremors-franchise/

Kevin Bacon Wants to Revisit His Only Film He Ever Re-Watched https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-news/kevin-bacon-tremors-1234956657/

Look at all this #BurtGummerDay love. That adds up to thousands of people watching Tremors for the first or fiftieth time. And this is only the first "official" year. It'll only grow.

http://imgur.com/t/burt_gummer_day

https://m.facebook.com/groups/2215552755347508/permalink/3124638257772282/?ref=m_notif¬if_t=group_comment

https://m.facebook.com/groups/2215552755347508/permalink/3124638397772268/

https://www.reddit.com/r/Tremors/about

Can you see the Tremors? Can you feel them? Fans want Tremors and they want it from Stampede. http://imgur.com/gallery/ZaVL7Mc http://imgur.com/gallery/f37bEV7 http://imgur.com/gallery/De6DlqQ

After all this time, and all this love, and all this greed, it's time we break Hollywood tradition and give power back to the people. When people can #RestoreTheSnyderVerse or #SaveTheVentureBros, we can #StampedeTremors for #BurtGummerDay.

Take this hope and fly!

#StampedeTremors

BTS, gifs, and videos of The Tremors Saga. Tremors: The Lost Tapes from S.S. Wilson's personal collection https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL1EA9246EF966DDA2

Monster Makers https://stampede-entertainment.com/site/photos/tmm-tremors/ https://stampede-entertainment.com/site/photos/tmm-tremors2/

ADI's creation documentaries https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLR9WUo3tIVnb4CyMR1SLVsxPyBwz1Met_ BTS gallery of Tremors http://imgur.com/gallery/b4STAkl

The making of Tremors https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=m-HUUt21tRA

Inside the Graboid workshop https://youtu.be/YgPuC2tNBpM

Stampede Entertainment's video archive for Tremors https://stampede-entertainment.com/site/category/videos/tremors/

Tremors opening https://youtu.be/gnqPYTOzc38

BTS gallery of Tremors 2: Aftershocks http://imgur.com/gallery/gSlZ1fC

Stampede Entertainment's behind the scenes of Tremors 2 https://stampede-entertainment.com/site/photos/tremors2/

The making of Tremors 2 https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=fAlqzM0CyPI

Tremors 2 original script with Val, Earl, Burt and Heather. http://imgur.com/gallery/8QaHPRy

Tremors 2: Aftershocks opening https://youtu.be/pVi24Gc0KdQ)

BTS gallery of Tremors 3: Back to Perfection http://imgur.com/gallery/fnFt9MD Stampede Entertainment's behind the scenes of Tremors 3 https://stampede-entertainment.com/site/photos/tremors3/

On the set of Tremors 3 https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=0ZhrvkB5nKs

Stampede Entertainment's video archive of Tremors 3 https://stampede-entertainment.com/site/category/videos/tremors3/

Tremors 3: Back to Perfection opening https://youtu.be/UXjdZitldB4

BTS gallery of Tremors the Series http://imgur.com/gallery/6mDHTtg

Stamede Entertainment's https://stampede-entertainment.com/site/photos/tremors-series/

Behind the scenes of Tremors the Series lost monsters. https://stampede-entertainment.com/site/photos/tremors-series-lost/

Cold opens for Tremors the Series https://youtu.be/srB6rZgv_Po https://youtu.be/v3ZkC08rKtg

BTS gallery of Tremors 4: The Legend Begins http://imgur.com/gallery/4M28quW Stampede Entertainment's behind the scenes of Tremors 4 https://stampede-entertainment.com/site/photos/tremors4-2/

On the set of Tremors 4 https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=bppXVxldTqU The weapons of Tremors 4 https://stampede-entertainment.com/site/photos/weapons-of-tremors-4/

Tremors 4: The Legend Begins opening https://youtu.be/3gDlAEUBesg

BTS gallery of Tremors 5: Bloodlines http://imgur.com/gallery/6l0Dogl

Tremors 5: Bloodlines opening https://youtu.be/t8jrCVI676Y

BTS gallery of the unaired Kevin Bacon Tremors pilot http://imgur.com/gallery/w7rbUvZ

Script for the unaired Tremors pilot http://imgur.com/gallery/UbtTvyf

Trailer for the unreleased Tremors pilot https://youtu.be/hWU3GpKmIvw

Kevin Bacon talks Tremors. https://youtu.be/TAGOlEIR7mA

Interviews with Alec Gillis, Brent Maddock, Nancy Roberts, and Ron Underwood https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLjmUAAK3guQ8t6dKzwH9V0RzerkdLr0d1

S.S. Wilson talks his Tremors career. https://youtu.be/ZJhZmty_dKs Making Perfection https://youtu.be/hpCSCQJEmnk

Have a question about Tremors? Find it here and if you can't find it, ask S.S. Wilson yourself! https://stampede-entertainment.com/site/fan-extras/tremors-faq/?include_category=general

And if you love Tremors enough to have made it this far, enjoy a collection of gifs for you to use at your pleasure.

Tremors http://imgur.com/gallery/kPiEe3d http://imgur.com/gallery/5Sb4Vpg http://imgur.com/gallery/1uZxiue http://imgur.com/gallery/NX5r2

Tremors 2 Aftershocks http://imgur.com/gallery/i1IZZf8 http://imgur.com/gallery/krcmrgQ http://imgur.com/gallery/GjTxAg1 http://imgur.com/gallery/DabFZTt http://imgur.com/gallery/QLTStyx http://imgur.com/gallery/P92e1ri http://imgur.com/gallery/IUAvd http://imgur.com/gallery/h8BZ0qN http://imgur.com/gallery/ZQi2KOb http://imgur.com/gallery/WDZdM

Tremors 3 Back to Perfection http://imgur.com/gallery/5ebddmR http://imgur.com/gallery/Rj9fqIy http://imgur.com/gallery/ikzXFbd

Tremors the Series http://imgur.com/gallery/cqSMk40

Tremors 4 The Legend Begins

http://imgur.com/gallery/ufV3of1 http://imgur.com/gallery/zPGBOW3 http://imgur.com/gallery/ri5jLRd http://imgur.com/gallery/y7A3l5D

Tremors 5 Bloodlines

http://imgur.com/gallery/Pmunxjo http://imgur.com/gallery/0yazNVG

Tremors 6 A Cold Day In Hell http://imgur.com/gallery/S4qlPCI http://imgur.com/gallery/Xa2mUsS

Tremors Pilot http://imgur.com/gallery/RXXjbKr http://imgur.com/gallery/kCErQyF

Tremors 7 Shrieker Island

http://imgur.com/gallery/FzpJllb http://imgur.com/gallery/JGweZjH

[deathonyourtongue]

Willow Run | Ch. 8

Summary: On a horse ranch in Texas, life is far simpler than on the streets of Bakubah, but Syverson has a bad habit of taking in strays of all kinds, no matter what demons may be after them. Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC Word Count: 4K Warnings: Mentions of past sexual assault A/N: It’s late and it’s long and sadly, there’s not nearly as much fluff in it as I thought there would be, but that’s where the story went.  CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6 | CHAPTER 7 |

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Sasha awoke excited for another note. Though she’d only received two, they’d become something of a calling card for Sy, his thing, so to speak. She loved that he took even a moment out of his day to ensure she felt comfortable and safe in his home, and though she never brought it up, she’d begun keeping them in one of the shoe boxes that came from their shopping spree. Always carefully folded, she allowed herself the small, childish hope of one day filling the box with Sy’s writing, if only so she could go back and reread them, remembering their story from the beginning. 

Flopping her arm down on the pillow, she pouted as she found only cotton. Maybe it was just a formality. Truth be told, while she trusted his character and kindness, Sasha didn’t truly know Sy, especially where it pertained to how he acted as a lover. Maybe the gestures stopped once he knew he’d locked down a lady, or maybe this was just a one off. 

Sasha pondered both sides as she got dressed and headed downstairs, surprised when she found Sy leaning against the counter, still in his lounge pants. Despite a serious case of bedhead, she couldn’t help but find him even more attractive in his freshly-woken state. Sy smiled when he saw her, gesturing for her to join him in the kitchen. It was only then that Sasha noticed the phone pressed to his ear. Sy blindly lifted his free arm up, a signal for Sasha to snuggle in close if ever there was one. 

“Morning, darlin’,” Sy whispered against the crown of her head, giving Sasha a tender kiss that turned her knees to jello on the spot. Squeezing him tight, she pressed her own kiss to Sy’s chest, just over his heart. 

“Yeah, uh, I’m not sure...Would you be able to tell that from lookin’ at ‘er? Okay, okay, good. Yeah, uh,” Sy checked his wristwatch briefly before his hand swept over Sasha’s head affectionately, “ten works. I took the day off, so we’ve got plenty ‘a time. Alright, thank you. See you soon.” 

Closing the call, Sy set the phone down and wrapped Sasha up in a bear hug, a plethora of kisses scattered all over her face before he cupped her jaw in one hand. 

“I called my mom this morning. Told her about you and asked her for advice on the lil’ one, especially when it came to a doctor--”

“I can’t go to one now! He’s got all my information, Sy! The second I go to a doctor and they pull up my name, the insurance company will send a letter, and he’ll know where I’m at!” Sasha interrupted in a panic, eyes wide, hoping Sy hadn’t just done what she thought he had. 

“Darlin’, I know. That’s why I called my mom for advice. The answer was under my nose the whole time and I’ve just been so caught up in makin’ sure you were okay and that things are runnin’ smooth around here, that it totally escaped my mind. None of us Syversons were born in a hospital. I was born upstairs in my room, actually.” Sy spoke soothingly as he held Sasha’s shoulders, his blue eyes holding her gaze so she understood that they were on the same page. 

“Our family’s been friends with the Taylors for years, and Nat’s taken up her mama’s post. I invited her over so y’all two can get acquainted. If you end up likin’ her, she’ll be your midwife and see things through with us to the end. Her husband is actually one of my best friends. We served together. If she manages to wrangle him away from his job, it’ll be more like an afternoon barbeque than anything else. Don’t panic, mama. I got you.” 

Sasha took a deep, shaking breath, emotion threatening to get the best of her once more. Pressing her face into Sy’s chest, she was silent for a few breaths before looking up at him, her eyes glazed with tears. 

“Why are you doing all this for me, Sy? You barely know me.” She whimpered, her breath hitching in her chest as Sy kissed her tears away, his smile sweet and understanding. 

“Because someone helped me once, and I’m in the position to do the same. And because you’ve been doin’ a lot for me too, mama, without even realizin’ it.” At the confusion on Sasha’s face, Sy’s smile grew. 

“I don’t...I don’t open up to people much, darlin’. I’ve told you more than I’ve told...anyone...in years. And I’ve been sleepin’ through the night, which never happens. I don’t know what kinda magic you brought with you, but I haven’t felt this at peace with life...ever.” He explained, a blush creeping up past his beard, Sy’s long lashes dusting his cheeks as he gazed down at the floor, utterly vulnerable.

Sasha’s guilt was forgotten as she reached up and stroked his face with the back of her hand, bringing Sy’s gaze back to her. No words needed to be said as they stood, an island unto themselves, each understanding the other’s heart in a way they’d never expected to. 

“You’re special to me, Sasha. Very special. I hope you know that.” Sy whispered, each word spoken closer to her lips, until his were pressed to hers in the most tender show of affection she’d felt yet. Sasha’s arms slipped around the broad frame of his back as she drank in the gentility that rolled off Sy in waves, knowing she’d never find another man like him. 

She could have stayed like that forever, wrapped up in his strong arms, floating away on the gentle breeze of his attentive kisses, but the clock on the stove caught the corner of her gaze and she knew they had precious little time to eat and get ready for Nat’s arrival. Still, she couldn’t help but cup his face and tug him down for one, much more playful kiss before they finally parted, each wearing a lopsided, twitterpated smile. 

Natalie Taylor was probably the most beautiful woman Sasha had ever seen, and her husband Mark was no slouch either. The couple looked like they were straight off the cover of a magazine, with Mark wearing a smart gray-blue button up, black tie, and matching black slacks, while Nat wore a carmine off-the-shoulder top and high-waisted jeans with heels Sasha was immediately jealous of, even if she’d never worn heels in her life.

Sasha watched Sy greet them both warmly, her anxiety growing as she wondered just what the pair would think of her and Sy being so close, so fast. One look from Natalie however, and Sasha’s worry was thrown out the window. 

“Sy, you told me she was pregnant, not that she was damn near ready to go!” Natalie laughed warmly as she stepped out of her heels and made a beeline for Sasha, her long braids trailing behind her like the train of a wedding veil. 

“You must be Sasha. God, you’re gorgeous! I’m Natalie, but you can call me Nat,” Natalie smiled, extending her hand, which, like the rest of her, was perfectly manicured. Sasha shook it with a shy smile, wondering if Nat was always this put-together, or if she just dressed up for the initial meeting; she couldn’t imagine a midwife who attended a birth in heels and super luxe-looking fabrics.  The cleanup alone would be a nightmare. 

“Sy, there’s no way she just ended up at your gate. Where’d you meet her, really?” Nat shot a playful glare over to Syverson, making him laugh. 

“At my gate, I swear on my mama.” Sy chuckled as he gave Mark a hug before holding a hand over his heart as though he were pledging allegiance to the flag.

“Sy’s always had a horseshoe up his ass with this type of stuff. Shame it never came in handy outside the wire,” Mark joked with a wink, moving to join his wife, carrying her stuffed-to-the-brim work bag with ease.

“Well, however you two met, I have to say, first and foremost, congratulations. Second, do you know how far along you are, honey?” Nat asked, getting straight to the point, her smile faltering a bit as she saw the marks strewn all over Sasha’s arms and legs. A look back at Sy made him close his eyes and huff out a breath. 

“We met three days ago, Nat. None of that was my doing,” Sy explained, doing his best to stay patient, knowing full well everyone assumed the worst, even if they knew him. 

“I was about to say…” Nat murmured, shaking her head, her eyes moving back to Sasha with even more kindness than before. 

“Good riddance. No one needs a man like that in their lives. Boys, if you’ll excuse us a second, Sasha and I are gonna have a little chit chat about the baby, then we’ll be back.” Natalie said with confidence, taking her bag from Mark before giving him a kiss on the cheek, having to reach up on her tip-toes to do so. 

Taking Sasha’s arm in hers, Natalie led her upstairs, keen to find out not only more about the baby, but about what had happened to Sasha and how she’d come into Sy’s life. Sasha moved as though on autopilot, looking back at Sy for reassurance and only feeling better about everything when she got a gentle nod of encouragement from him. 

The boys had turned the TV on downstairs by the time Sasha and Nat had closed the door to Sasha’s room, only the faint sound of garbled voices coming through the wood. 

“Well, first thing’s first. I’m glad you got out of wherever it was that you were before Sy, ‘cause any more of this,” she pointed to one of the fresher injuries to Sasha’s legs, “and who knows what would have happened. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, sweetie. You’re safe here. Sy’s good people. I’ve known him since I was little and that man’s always gone out of his way to be kind to others. Even more so after he enlisted. Heart of Gold, just like my Mark.” Nat’s words were earnest and sentimental as she unzipped her bag, pulling out everything she’d need to carry out an exam and then some.

Sasha didn’t recognize half of what the devices were, but she panicked a little at the sight of something that looked more like a penis than anything medical ought to. Nat, seeing where Sasha’s gaze had gone, smiled knowingly. 

“It’s for an internal ultrasound. Helps me see the baby a little easier. It doesn’t hurt, I promise. Have you had an ultrasound yet?” The concern in her tone came with the last question, Natalie fighting every urge she had to hug the other woman, already feeling for her and the situation she’d escaped from. 

Sasha shook her head, too overwhelmed to speak much. Logically she knew she’d have to be examined at some point, she just hadn’t counted on it being so intimate. “I only managed to get to the doctor twice before coming here. Once just to make sure I was carrying, and the second to get some general info on what was normal and what wasn’t.”

“Did they do a blood test?” 

“Yeah, but just in-house. Just to confirm.”

“Okay. Well, we can cross that bridge another time, since I didn’t bring my cooler with me today. Don’t worry though, all my testing is done with patient numbers, not names, so if you ex is savvy to that sort of stuff, he won’t be able to tell you apart from any other woman in Texas,” Natalie explained, wishing Sy had told her more of the story over the phone, but understanding that Sasha’s story wasn’t his to tell. Turning to face Sasha after dousing her hands in alcohol, Natalie indicated to the bed with a kind smile. 

“If you wanna go ahead and lay down for me, undies off, we’ll have a quick look, and go from there, okay?” Sasha nodded, feeling a touch more anxiety as she moved to lay on her bed, slipping her underwear off as she was told to. 

“This won’t hurt, will it?” She couldn’t help but ask, her anxiety getting the better of her and making Sasha’s breathing more laboured than it needed to be.

“Shouldn’t hurt at all, sweetheart,” Nat confirmed, gloving up to do the visual inspection. 

Once started, it didn’t take long for Natalie to find the tell-tale signs of abuse she was nearly certain even Sy didn’t know about. 

“How long ago were you raped, honey?” She asked as kindly as she could, her face one of sympathy as she watched Sasha tense up immediately. 

Though in the back of her mind, Sasha knew what it was, she’d spent years avoiding the word, not wanting to admit it to herself. Tears filled her eyes as she looked over at the nightstand, unwilling to meet Nat’s gaze.

“About f-five days ago,” Sasha mumbled, face red and hot with shame, one arm coming up to cover her eyes. If the house caved in on them at that moment, it would have felt better than remembering her last time with her ex.

“That’s why you ran. I understand. You’re beyond brave, Sasha. Most women, even under those circumstances, are too paralyzed by fear to leave. You took the most important step to save your baby’s life, and that’s something you should be very proud of.” 

Though she wasn’t certain anything would come of it, Natalie discreetly took a swab, labeling it separately, and slipping it in her bag, hoping that if nothing else, it could be used later against the man who’d caused Sasha so much physical and psychological pain.

With her visual complete, Nat set up her portable ultrasound and attached the internal wand to it. Anxiety rose up in Sasha once more as she watched Natalie prepare, and before she could stop it, her voice came out in something of a whisper. 

“Could...Nevermind.” Quickly correcting herself, Sasha shook her head, wiping furiously at her eyes and chastising herself for being such a baby about things. 

"Nuh-uh, honey. None of that holding back nonsense with me. You want or need something you voice it out. Loud and proud, mama." Nat coached, stopping what she was doing and moving to slip a blanket over Sasha’s knees, having a good idea of what the other woman meant to ask. 

“No, nevermind. It’s fine. Let’s just get this over with, please.” Angry at herself, Sasha took a deep breath and nodded to Nat, who still looked concerned, but nodded back. 

Though the ultrasound was uncomfortable, it didn’t hurt, something which gave Sasha only the smallest bit of joy, as she knew it meant she was healing physically. Looking out the window, she mentally checked out through the rest of the exam, responding only when spoken to, and only with what she needed to say. It was all overwhelming, but having shed enough tears in the past three days, Sasha refused to allow herself more, her internal monologue having nothing good to say about her own behavior. 

“Okay, sweetheart. We’re all done. Both you and your baby are in great shape, although I would ask that you start eating more. With Sy around, that shouldn’t be an issue. Man loves to cook,” Nat said with a sympathetic smile, feeling for Sasha even more than before. 

Taking a seat by where her patient had sat up, Natalie took Sasha’s hand in hers. Smiling softly, she looked down to meet Sasha’s gaze. 

“Do you wanna know what you’re havin’, or do you wanna wait ‘till the day?” 

Still lost in her own thoughts, Sasha merely shrugged. “Just want it to be healthy. Nothin’ else matters.” 

Natalie’s lips pressed together, the answer breaking her heart. She’d tended to many a battered woman due to her volunteer work at a women’s shelter, but it never got easier to see just how things that were supposed to bring joy on any other occasion, were nearly always reminders of what a woman had endured instead. Rubbing Sasha’s arm, Natalie stood. 

“I’ll go get Sy. After all of that, I know you could use a snuggle.” 

Sasha decided then and there that she liked Natalie, hoping Sy would keep his word and allow her to entrust the other woman with her and her baby’s care. Though she didn’t outwardly show it, she felt relieved that Nat had the intuition to know when to pull back and keep from being overbearing; it was a rare gift, in Sasha’s experience and one that would be useful during what she could only imagine would be a painful labor.

“That girl’s been through a lot.” Natalie sighed as she took a seat on the couch, handing the ultrasound photos to Syverson. “Sasha’s about 6 months in and she’s gonna be having a baby girl. She was too overwhelmed to even ask about pictures or care about what the sex of the baby is. There were signs of repeated sexual trauma, and she confirmed that she’d been raped two days before coming here. Whoever she was with before? Needs to get bit by a rabid dog and die as slowly as possible, because what he did to her is just…” Natalie couldn’t finish her sentence, too angered by what she’d seen on Sasha’s body to even think of a fitting word.

Without needing to be told, Sy tucked the pictures into the back pocket of his jeans, pointed at Mark then at the barbeque where the steaks were cooking, and jogged upstairs. Knocking softly, he opened the door after getting no reply. 

“Hey, darlin’,” he whispered kindly, taking a seat at Sasha’s hip, one hand reaching out to rub the back that was facing him, Sy knowing she was upset just by how heavy the air was. Still getting no response, he slipped the pictures out of his pocket before getting into bed behind Sasha, one hand sliding under her head while the other went around her swollen tummy. 

Sy stayed silent, not wanting to push. If Sasha wanted to talk, she would; he’d gladly spend the day with her wrapped up in his arms if it helped her more than talking did. Pressing kisses to her shoulder and the back of her head, it wasn’t long before he felt Sasha’s fingers thread through his over her belly. 

“It’s funny how easily you can push something to the back of your mind, to ignore it completely because to believe it means accepting more pain.” Sasha whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. Sy squeezed her hand, urging her to continue

“Nat asked me point blank if I’d been raped, and up until she said it that way, I’d never once thought of what had happened to me, as that. He was basically my husband, I just...I always told myself that it was normal. That husbands just took whenever they wanted to get their rocks off, y’know? But in the back of my head I knew. Knew it wasn’t normal to...to bleed after, stuff like that. Back when I had friends, they always went on and on about how good it felt, and I just...It’s never felt good. Never.” Sniffling, she curled further into the pillow she held against her chest. 

Feeling his rage rise to meet the bile that made a knot in his throat, Sy breathed deeply, reminding himself that it would do neither of them any good to be angry at a man who wasn’t there to answer for his crimes. Stroking a hand over her hair, he gently shifted them until Sasha sat with her back pressed to his chest. Holding her close, he tucked his face into the crook of her neck, choosing his words carefully before speaking. 

“It shouldn’t ever hurt. Even if you’re just havin’ a one-night-stand. What he did to you wasn’t out of love, like a husband’s supposed to. He did it to control you, to make you fear ‘im, because he’s a weak sonofabitch. I can’t imagine the kind of pain you suffered under his hand, but I know one thing; it backfired on him, big time. Because the moment he put this lil’ one in ya, he made you the strongest woman on earth and no amount of fear or control could keep ya. You fought, you got out, and you got to somewhere safe. Never again will he have any power over you. Never.”

Sasha felt herself smiling as she realized that Sy was speaking the truth. She had gotten out, gotten away, gotten somewhere safe. All because of her baby. Sniffling, she wrapped his arms around her tighter, Sy gladly giving her another squeeze as he kissed her cheek fondly. 

“Wanna see your lil’ one, mama?” Sy murmured against her cheek, his own smile growing as he slipped the pictures into view, resting them on her bump. 

Sasha’s breath hitched in her throat as she took in the grainy, black and white image of her baby. Though there wasn’t a lot of detail, it was easy to see the baby was at ease, sucking on its thumb. 

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Sasha asked, remembering Natalie’s question, and immediately regretting her answer. She did want to know. 

“That right there, darlin’, is your lil’ sweetpea,” Sy whispered, surprised when he found his own voice thick with emotion. Sy let out a wet chuckle when Sasha practically dove onto him, hugging him tightly. 

“Congratulations, mama,” he murmured against her hair, Sy’s expression softening as he felt Sasha cup his face. Their gazes connected only for a moment before she brought him down, their lips connecting in a way that made both their hearts sing.

[xvnqsb]

soulmates pt. 1

A/N: ahhhh finally posting the first chapter. i have about the first five or six chapters written, so i will have them scheduled for different days while i focus on school! hopefully you all enjoy!

of stardust and space. masterlist

chapter one. soulmates pt. 1

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"I'm pregnant." The words fell from the blonde's lips so effortlessly, as if they were casual words that are said in casual conversation. But they were definitely not words that were casual. These were life-altering words that could be the make or break of anyone.

"You're...pregnant?" His jaw dropped. "H-how?"

She rolled her eyes, sighing, and picking at her nails as if she was bored. "Well, T., when we fucked, somehow, our protection didn't work because here I am, knocked up with your child."

No shit. "I know that, but how? I've always used protection. This can't be real. Take another test."

"I took three. You think I want to be pregnant?" She stared at him accusingly.

How was this his fault? It takes two to create a child.

"So-uh-are we keeping it?" He didn't know what to think. Was he really ready for a baby?

"Do you want to?" Her voice had become a whisper, afraid of what might happen in the next few moments.

He paused, before smiling and nodding as he brought her in for a hug. "Yes."

She wrapped her arms around him, squealing excitedly. "Then yes."

He couldn't believe it. He, Tony Stark, was going to be a father.

"What do you mean 'you're going to be a father'?" Jason asked.

Tony had the telephone between his shoulder and ear, working on one of his latest inventions. He exhaled happily, putting down the tool in his hand as he adjusted the block phone.

"I mean, I'm going to be a father! Jasmin'e's pregnant," He heard a disappointed sigh from his best friend down the line. Knowing what the conversation was going to lead to, he sat down on the closest chair. "What?"

"Jasmine? Are you sure you want her to be the mother of your children?"

"Jason-"

"No, I know what you're going to say. I know you love her and everything, but Tony, what did your parents say?"

"I haven't told them," he mumbled, clearing his throat as he continued. "Besides, it doesn't matter what they think or say because it's my child and my life. And, I would like to point out that you got Vivie pregnant first!"

"You're right, but with a child, you're going to have a tie to Jasmine for the rest of your life."

"And?"

"She's insane-"

"No, she's not!" Tony scoffed, shaking his head at the thoughts of the man on the other end of the line. "She's not crazy."

There was rustling on the other end of the line, and then Vivie's voice was heard.

"Congrats, Tony! Jas just told me the news! I can't believe we're all going to be parents!" She squealed.

"Baby, give me the phone," Jason asked, and she complied. "Look, I got to go. I'm glad you're having a kid, Stark, just don't do anything else before you know what you really want."

"Fine, I won't." He picked up a pack of blueberries from his workstation, popping some in his mouth before speaking again. "Do you think our kids are gonna hate each other?"

He's never been this nervous. Well, that's a lie. He hasn't been this nervous in years.

But this time, he's sitting in front of his parents, figuring out how he's going to tell them he got Jasmine pregnant. His father was staring him down, almost annoyed at how long it was taking his son to speak.

"Mom, Dad-" He couldn't even finish his sentence, because his father jumped up, slamming his hand down on the table. Tony flinched, taken aback by the sudden movement.

"You knocked her up, didn't you?" He spat, disappointment evident in his facial features.

How'd he know?

"Y-Yes. Jasmine is pregnant, with my child."

His mom put her hand on his father's shoulder, trying to calm him down.

"I always knew this would happen. I can't believe this. I can't believe you." Tony didn't move or say a word, allowing his father to get out his anger. After what felt like an eternity, his father sighed. He sat down, rubbing his face. "How much?"

"Oh, my god." Tony scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "We're keeping the baby."

"What?" His mother gasped, obviously shocked at the decision of her son.

"You're not serious, are you?" Howard questioned, laughing as if this was all a sick joke. "You're throwing your life away, Anthony."

"I am not."

"If you have this child, it will be one of your biggest regrets."

"No, they won't."

"This child will ruin your life! You will have the greatest opportunities turned down because you will be a father-"

"Those won't change!"

"This will be the biggest mistake of your life!"

"Then it is my mistake to make!" Tony stood, angrily shoving the chair back. He felt tears threaten to spill, and his face grew hot with anger and frustration. "And it is not a mistake, because they are going to be the best thing that has ever happened to me."

Apples, bananas, carrots...lettuce? No. Watermelon.

"Babe, are you almost done?" Jasmine called from the living room.

"Yes!" He picked up the plate of fruit he had arranged and carried it to her. Her face lit up as she saw the food, squealing excitedly. "Healthy snacks for a healthy baby."

"Yum," She moaned as she bit into a watermelon slice, chewing and swallowing before continuing. "I did not understand why this child wants such healthy food but now I know! Watermelon is so good."

He grabbed an apple slice, chewing it as he picked up the book he was reading. TThey sat in silence as she finished her afternoon snack, the book in her hand closing once she was finished.

"Honey," she called sweetly, and Tony hummed in reply. "Do you want a boy or a girl?"

"What?" He looked up from his book, confused at the sudden question.

"I'm just curious."

"Well, uh," He cleared his throat, closing the book in his hand. "I'd, uh, I want a girl."

"Really? Why?" She looked at him so intently, so lovingly that his heart stopped.

"Because she'd be the best big sister in the world. And, I'm going to teach her how to kick ass!"

"You could barely kick-ass yourself! How are you gonna show her?"

"Well, Ms. Vonz, I know some martial arts."

"What if it was a boy?"

"I would love him all the same! I get to pass down my knowledge to another ruggedly handsome Stark!"

"And you can't do that with a girl?"

"Well, yeah. My kid would be smart and a badass."

"WhatifIalreadyknowthegenderandtoldyouitwasagirl?" She said the words so quickly, Tony could not process them.

"What?"

"What if," she gulped, sitting up. The blanket fell off of her stomach, revealing the small bump. "I already know the gender, and I told you it was a girl?"

"W-what? Oh my god," Tony shot up, a smile on his face as he repeated the words in his head. "It's a- We're- It's a girl? We're having a girl?"

"Yes."

Later that night, as they counted down from ten, Tony couldn't help the smile etched onto his face. He looked between Jason and Jasmine, incredibly happy about the recent events. The clock struck twelve, and Tony pulled her in for a kiss.

"Happy New Year to you and our baby girl."

"Have fun with Jason!" Jasmine whispered as she watched the man double-check himself.

"Thanks, Jas. I promise you can give me my birthday present when I get back." He leaned down and kissed her forehead, before going down to her big belly. He placed a kiss on where he hoped his kid's head was. "Even though she's already giving me the biggest and best gift already."

"Stop being all gushy," She pushed him towards the door, blowing him a kiss. "Have fun. Be safe."

When Tony arrived at Jason's apartment, he was greeted by the sight of Vivie bouncing a sleepy Jonah in her arms.

"Hey V. Jonah," he brushed a knuckle gently against his godson, the five-month-old reaching for his hand. "Is Jason ready to go?"

"Yes!" Jason came then, kissing his fiance and son goodbye before leading his best friend towards the elevator. "How's it feel to be 21, Stark?"

"Same as being 20, Mullem." They took it down to the lobby, and as they walked out the doors, Tony stopped in his tracks. "Are you serious?"

Jason had a huge grin on his face, nodding as he slapped his best friend on his back. "All this for you, Tony."

"I fucking love you." He mumbled as he entered the limo.

"I fucking love you too."

Tony's pager beeps for the seventh time that night. 911. His father insists that he pick it up, so he leaves the dinner table and calls the number.

"Bellevue Hospital Center."

"Hi, yes, this is Tony Stark. I got a 911 to my pager?"

"Mr. Stark?" A male's voice came from the end of the line.

"Yeah, that's me," He rolled his eyes at the man on the other end.

"Yes, Mr. Stark, I'm Dr. Jones from Bellevue Hospital Center. Your wife has gone into labor."

"My-My wife?"

"Jasmine Vonz, sir."

Oh, God, it's happening.

"Y-yes! Sorry, it's just...unexpected." He turned to look into his dining room, his mother and father in conversation. "I'll be there soon."

He hung up, feeling sick.

"Anthony, is everything alright?" His mom called.

"Y-Yea-" He didn't finish his sentence, running to the bathroom and vomiting his entire dinner. When he was sure he was done, he got cleaned up before heading back out to the dining room. He grabbed his keys, wallet, and jacket, looking at his parents. "Jasmine went into labor."

"Oh, honey!"

"I-I gotta go. I'll let you know when she's born!" He called out as he ran out of his house.

The ride to the hospital, he was jittery. His cab driver kept giving him dirty looks, looking relieved as they finally pulled up to the hospital. Tony gave him more than enough cash before stumbling out of the cab and into the hospital. He went up to the nurses' station, having trouble finding words.

"Can I help you, sir?" One of the nurses asked.

"Ye-Yes. My girlfriend went into labor, uh, not so long ago."

"What's her name?"

"Jasmine Vonz."

She looked for her information, nodding when she found it. She gave him directions towards the room, saying a quick 'see you soon'. When he entered the room, Jasmine was pale and sweaty, gasping as she saw Tony.

"This baby will not stay in." She clutched at his hand as another contraction came. "I'm scared. I don't think this is how it's supposed to feel."

"I'm sure it's fine, honey." Tony pressed a quick kiss to her head, whimpering quietly as she crushed his hand. "My hand, not so much."

"I'm Dr. Jastin, " The doctor said as he came in moments later, his team right behind him. "Alright, Mom, Dad, are you ready?"

"We're doing this in here?" He asked, looking at the nurses setting up the baby stuff. "Isn't there, like, a labor room or something?"

"Yes sir, but it seems your daughter does not want to wait," the doctor answered as he snapped on his gloves, putting on a mask before setting himself in between his girlfriend's legs. "This baby is coming here and now."

The delivery was a painful process, and he was pretty sure a couple of his fingers were broken. After the final push, he heard the cries of his baby girl throughout the room. He sighed a 'Thank God' as his hand was released.

The doctor handed her over to one of his nurses, working on closing Jasmine. The nurses worked on the baby, wrapping her in a blanket and doing other...nurse/baby stuff.

"You did so well," he muttered in her ear, kissing the side of her head. "Gave us a beautiful baby."

"Where is she?" she whispered, gulping and trying to locate her kid. "Tony, where is she, is she okay?"

"Yeah, honey, she's with the nurses."

Tony looked up at the team of nurses working on his newborn baby. They seemed to be taking longer than necessary.

"Dr. Jastin?" One of the nurses called as he finished up.

"What's going on? What's wrong?" Tony asked, finding Jasmine's hand and squeezing it.

"It's fine," the doctor told the nurse before lifting up his baby and carrying her over to them. "Who wants to see mommy and daddy?"

Jasmine shook her head, looking away from the doctor and baby.

"Ms. Vonz?"

"Jas, what's wrong?" Tony whispered, moving her hair behind her ear. "You don't want to hold our baby?"

"No," She mumbled. "I don't want the baby."

Tony reached out for his daughter and was oblivious to the words that were muttered by his girlfriend. His face lit up with a smile, his heart pounding at the feeling of holding such a small life in his hands. He rubbed his finger against her cheek, a happy sigh escaping his lips.

"Can't believe you're here," he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss against her forehead. She cooed, reaching up, and beginning to cry. "It's safe to say that you're the best thing that has ever happened to me. Besides your mom, of course."

The next day, Tony took his parents to the nursery. There were at least 25 babies, some being days old, while others were mere hours. He pointed her out, his parents smiling at the small infant.

"Doctor said that we could take her home tomorrow," he said, nodding as the nurse indicated if he wanted her to take the baby up to the window. "I can't wait."

"Me neither," Howard whispered, subtly wiping at the tears building on his waterline. "Where's Jasmine?"

"She's resting in the room," he replied, suddenly remembering his duties. "Do you guys mind waiting here while I set up the car seat and crib? It'll only be an hour."

His parents agreed, waving him off as he raced to begin his new life.

Lilah was in the carrier, gladly sucking on a binky, as she and Tony walked up the stairs to her mother's apartment. It's the third day they've been home, and Jasmine has refused to see her child. He figured she was probably struggling with postpartum depression and wanted to help. He had found a great support group and some counselor's that focused on such things.

"Ready to see mama?" he asked her, taking the garbled sounds as a yes. "Me too. I miss her. And I can't wait to take more pictures of the two girls in my life."

Finally arriving at the door, Tony unlocked it and stepped inside. He stopped in his tracks at the sight of the barren apartment, looking around in shock. Knowing it was worthless, he put the carrier on the counter and looked for his girlfriend. All he found were two envelopes taped to the mirror of the bathroom.

He grabbed them in disbelief before grabbing his daughter and leaving the apartment in anger and hurt. The drive home he blamed himself for her leaving, muttering insults to himself.

The envelopes sat at the bottom of his drawer for years, refusing to be read. As he fell, his parents helped take care of their granddaughter. They fed her and changed her when she woke them screaming in the night, while their son laid in bed with no will to live. He ignored his daughter, refusing to hold her and look at her. He didn't want a memory of her, leaving the house after a week. Howard called Jason, asking him to take care of Tony. For the first month of Lilah's life, she was raised by her grandparents, who had grown quite fond of her.

"I'm glad Tony had her," Howard whispered to Maria one night as they rocked her to sleep. "She's going to save his life."

Maria smiled, rocking her granddaughter back and forth as she thought of her next words carefully. "Will you ever tell him?"

He exhaled deeply, rubbing his face and sitting down on his son's bed. "Yes, just not right now. He's already dealing with her leaving."

"I know but-" Howard looked up to see Maria staring at the door, and followed her line of vision.

Tony stood in the doorway, watching his daughter. She had been falling asleep until her head fell to the side and she caught sight of her father. At the realization of who it was, she began to cry and kick at the woman, attempting to reach out to him. Without hesitation Tony crossed the room, taking her into his arms and beginning to rock her back and forth. She calmed, relaxing at the feeling of being in her dad's arms.

"Let's go," Maria told Howard, shooing him out of the room and closing the door behind them.

That night, Tony got up to care for his crying daughter.

"Is the table set?" Maria called from the kitchen.

"Yes, Mom," He called from the dining room, finishing the silverware on the last plate.

He went up to his room and checked up on Lilah, who was just waking up from her nap. She reached out for him, giggling as he sniffed her diaper and exaggerated a gag.

"Someone's not ashamed," He muttered, changing her before taking her downstairs. "Guess who's up?"

"Where's my girl?" Howard called out, coming in from the living room. He reached for her, kissing her cheek as Tony handed her to him. "There she is."

A twinge of jealousy shot through Tony, but he quickly shook it off as the doorbell rang. He opened the door, taking Jonah from Vivie's arms and pressing a kiss to his cheek. The Mullem's greeted his parents, seating both children in high chairs before gathering around the table. They held hands and prayed.

"What are you thankful for, Stark?" Jason asked, looking across the table at his best friend.

Tony looked at his daughter, pinching her cheek. "The best thing in my life."

"Did she wake you?" Tony asked quietly, looking towards his father who stood at the door.

"No, I've, uh, been in the study." Tony nodded, returning his attention to his tired daughter. "How's she doing?"

He turned her towards him, eyes slowly closing and mouth open. "Almost there."

They stood in silence for a few minutes before Howard turned to go to his room.

"She's the best thing that has ever happened to me, Dad."

Howard looked towards his son, and it seemed like there were tears in his eyes. "I know."

Lilah had officially turned six months yesterday, and everything had been normal. He lacked attention from his father but witnessed him give it to his daughter. His mother gave him the same love she gave his daughter. They were a happy, content family.

Until hours ago, police showed up at the door to inform him of the news.

He didn't believe it. He thought it was some sick joke. But it wasn't.

Howard and Maria Stark were dead.

Car crash.

They weren't the only things they said, it was just what he could make out.

They were involved in an accident.

Didn't make it.

The pain was all too much. The mother of his child leaving him. His parents dying. He wasn't going to make it.

The funeral was rough. He doesn't remember much, just giving the eulogies and greeting old family friends. Accepting condolences. Hiding his kid away from those who began to pry too much, it was a funeral, why were they more interested in his kid?

After that is when it got worse.

He began to fall again. Scarce meals, drinking, bad hygiene. He didn't answer the door for anyone.

He simply lived and breathed for his daughter. He didn't want her to grow up an orphan. He changed her and bathed her and fed her. everything he was avoiding on himself he did to her.

"Baby, please, stop crying," He begged for the millionth time. Lilah was refusing to take a bath. She kicked and screamed bloody murder when he tried to lower her in the water. "What is it? Do you want me to shower with you?"

Hoping it was just that, he let the water go and turned on the showerhead. He undressed before picking her up and stepping into the water. She didn't cry or scream or throw a tantrum, just began pulling at his hair as the water hit it.

His body relaxed, soaking in the feeling of showering. He sighed in content, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

After the shower, he put them both into comfortable clothes before deciding to take a nap.

Tony had put Lilah in her crib and had just laid on his bed when she began to cry. He left her alone, hoping she would put herself to sleep.

He gave up after fifteen minutes.

"What is it, sweetheart?" He picked her up, rocking her gently. He sat on the bed, and her crying seized. He chuckled at his realization. "I get it. Do you want to sleep with daddy? Is that it, my girl?"

Lilah cooed, swinging her arms.

Tony laid back, allowing her to rest on his chest. She put her ear against his chest, falling asleep to the rhythm of his heart.

Lilah was turning one and Tony was freaking out.

Sure, he thought about it. But he never realized how old she was turning. Much less realized how fast the past year has gone.

"You need to calm down," Jason told him, helping the 22-year-old father wrap his daughter's presents.

"Were you calm when Jonah turned one?" Tony asked, looking at his best friend.

"No." He sighed.

"Then you can't come bitching at me about it!"

"Watch the language boys." They looked up to see Vivie enter with both kids in the double stroller, dropping the diaper bag on the table. "Why did I have to take them out again?"

"Because the party is a surprise?" Jason responded in a 'duh' tone.

"They're babies. They don't even know what's going on." Vivie set both children down onto the ground.

Tony walked over to pick up his daughter, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Jonah lifted his arms at his godfather, and he complied. Tony held both children in his arms, attempting to avoid their grabbing hands at his ears.

"What if Lilah has a photographic memory? What if she remembers her first birthday years into the future and hates me because we didn't surprise her?"

Jason groaned, shutting his eyes. "Again Tony?"

"Yes! My child can be a super genius."

"That's not possibl-"

"Okay, boys." Vivie interrupted them, grabbing Jonah from him. "Let's finish decorating, get ready, and enjoy the party!"

"Yeah." Jason agreed, raising his eyebrows at Tony. "Enjoy the party."

Tony held Lilah all night long, only passing her to her godparents when he went to the bathroom. The party was over. Jonah was asleep in his crib, Jason and Vivie were cleaning up, and Tony was in the living room with Lilah on his hip. He was swaying them back and forth gently, humming softly to the song that played. She was falling asleep, brown eyes watching him before shutting for a few seconds then opening again.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead before whispering, "Happy birthday, baby."

"Don't move! Let me get the camera!" He ran to the kitchen, grabbing the video camera. He turned it on as he raced back to the living room, placing the phone back between his shoulder and ear. He began recording Lilah, who stood holding onto the sofa. "I told you, Mullem, my kid's going to walk first."

"No, my kid is gonna walk first," Jason said through the phone, causing Tony to roll his eyes. "You're just upset because Jonah started talking first."

"He hasn't even said a word!"

"Yes, he has!"

"What? 'Bajdkfs'? Those are baby sounds."

"He spoke first, and he's going to walk first."

Lilah let go of the sofa, and Tony perked up. "My kid's going for it."

"Mine let go of the sofa."

"So did mine."

They stayed silent, each urging their kid to make the first move. Lilah looked at her dad and smiled, taking a wobbly step towards him.

"Ohmygod, I won! She took her first step!"

"No!"

"Good job sweetheart! Take another." he encouraged her. She took another wobbly step before falling onto her bottom, giggling at her father's happy expression. "Yes!"

"No! Jonah just took his first steps! It's a communication error."

"Nuh-uh, Jason. Your kid got speaking first, mine gets first steps."

"He didn't even say a real word."

"Aha! I knew it!"

"Whatever. I got to go, Vivie is furious that we're competing."

"I bet. Did you tell her you lost?"

"Screw you, Stark."

They hung up, Tony picking up his daughter and setting down the video camera. He kissed her head, smiling and bouncing her. "You wanna speak first too? Give Jonah a run for his money?"

She babbled nonsense.

"I agree."

He sat her back on the ground, sitting across from her.

"Say 'Dada'. Da-da. Easiest word in the book, kid." She crawled to him, standing with the help of his legs. "Daddy would be good too. Dad. Pops. Anything."

She babbled once again, stepping onto his legs and reaching up to support herself against his chest.

"Really? Quite interesting."

She laughed, leaning forward and pressing her nose against his. He scrunched it in confusion, a smile gracing his lips. "What are you doing kid?"

"Dada." She said before pressing a kiss to his nose.

"Yeah, I'm your da-Wait what?" He picked her up, shock and disbelief running through him. "What did you say?"

She babbled, dancing in his arms.

"You cannot do this to me. I need proof that my kid is the best." he stretched his arms slightly. "Dada. Say it again, baby, please."

Nothing.

"Por favor?"

Nada.

"Please, for me?"

She smiled. "Dada."

It wasn't perfect, but it was real. An actual word.

"Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you," He kissed her head once more, sitting her in his lap. "Jonah may be older, but he has his dad's brain."

His eyes landed on the video camera, hope filling him.

"Please be recording."

"Daddy," Lilah gently pushed his arm. "Daddy."

His eyes open slowly, taking in the sight of his tired four-year-old. He sighed, reaching his hand up to cup his daughter's face. "What's wrong-what the hell?"

Shooting up, he brought her onto his lap, back of his hand pressing all over her face. She was sweaty and sticky and her skin was burning.

"I don't feel good." She mumbled, a whine leaving her and she grabbed his hand. "My tummy hurts."

He picked her up, putting on his shoes before heading downstairs. She rested her head against his shoulder, her stomach rumbling. She was asleep the whole ride, waking when they got to the small 24-hour store. She whined and cried silently as they moved about the store, gripping onto him so tight her knuckles turned white.

"Ooh, fever?" The clerk asked, scanning the box of medicine.

"Yup. She was fine when she went to sleep but she woke me with a fever." Tony replied, taking out some bills to pay for the items.

"Weird. They usually exhibit signs."

"Yeah, last time I could tell. But this time was a surprise."

The clerk handed him his bag and took the bills. "If she's not better in a few days, you should take her to the doctor."

"If I can't have the fever down by tomorrow, I might have to." He took the change from the man, stuffing it into his wallet. "Thank you. Have a good night."

"You too, man. Hope she gets better soon."

"Thank you."

Tony soothed her on the way to the car, rubbing her back and telling her she was going to be okay. He buckled her into her car seat, dropping the bag by her feet when she burped. Eyes wide, he emptied the plastic bag and put it under her mouth in time for her to throw up into the bag. He rubbed her back once more, wiping vomit off of her mouth with his sleeve before starting the car. He made sure she held onto the bag, trying to get home as quickly and safely as possible. She puked once more on the drive home, crying and calling for him.

"I know, princess, just hold on."

They were in the driveway and he was turning off the car when she began heaving and climbed into the backseat to help her. He quickly took them inside, struggling to carry his sick daughter, the get-well items, and her puke bag. They eventually made it to the room, where he changed her into a new set of pajamas. He had her rinse her mouth before giving her the dose suggested on the box. She drank it, unwillingly, and cuddled up to his side when he laid them down.

Tony was gently massaging her head, slowly falling asleep himself when her small voice filled his ears.

"I love you, my pretty boy." She whispered, voice drowsy from the medicine.

"Your pretty boy?" He questioned, curious of the sudden nickname.

"Mhm, my pretty boy. You're my pretty boy, Daddy."

He smiled, pressing a kiss to her head. "Guess that makes you my pretty girl."

"Guess so," she muttered, finally drifting off

"I love you, my pretty girl."

"Kindergarten was so fun Daddy!" Her voice screeched through the phone, Tony smiling at her voice. God, he misses her.

"Really?"

"Mhm! We made a nametag and got to color it and draw on it and-"

"Whoa there, sweetheart," Jason interrupted his daughter. "You're talking too fast for your old man's ears."

"Hey, I'm not old," He spoke into the phone, her giggles coming down the line. "You're old."

"Yeah, Tio Jay, you're older than Daddy." She started screaming with laughter, a sad smile on his face. "Daddy! He's-stop!-tickling me!"

"Better stop tickling my daughter Jason, before I have to kick your ass."

Her laughter slowly stopped, her breathing heavy. "Ooh, you said a bad word."

"Uh-oh, don't tell Aunt Vivie or she'll kick my ass."

They laughed, shuffling heard slightly on the other side. "I'm gonna make dinner, you can finish talking to Tony, baby."

"Mhm," He could hear her moving around. "What are you doing, Daddy?"

"Well," He cleared his throat, moving to get comfortable on the hotel bed. "I'm in my hotel room talking to a very pretty girl."

"Really? What's her name?"

"Tokyo."

"Hey, that's my name!" He waited for a moment, and she gasped in realization. "Ohhh, you're talking about me."

"Of course I am. What other pretty girl do I know named Tokyo? I think you're spending too much time with Uncle Jay." She giggled, and he could almost imagine the smile on her face. "Sorry I couldn't be there for your second day of school."

"It's okay. You were here for my first day," She grunted quietly. "Are you still coming home on Saturday?"

"Of course. I promised to get us ice cream, didn't I?"

"Yup," she popped the 'p', the smile widening on his face. She let out a quiet sigh, and he could tell her mood shifted. "I miss you, Daddy."

He sighed. "I know. I miss you more."

They were both silent for a few minutes, her breathing slowing slightly.

"Hey, baby?"

"Hm?"

"Wanna tell me about school?"

She gasped, excitedly. "Yeah!"

"Do you want to stop and get her a cheeseburger?" Happy asked from the front of the car. Tony shook his head, sighing.

"I don't want to give her happy food and then tell her the bad news."

"But it's not bad news."

"For her, it is," He ran a hand down his face. He can't believe he's doing this. "This is her life! Her world. I wanted her to grow up here like I did. She already struggles with the fact that I'm on a business trip almost always, she's gonna hate me because of this."

Happy drummed his fingers on the wheel, pulling over in front of Jason's house. He honked, and Tony looked out the window to watch the door. "What has Vivie said?"

"We thought she was getting better. But, uh, Jason heard her crying in her room the other night." The door opened, and she gave her aunt and uncle a kiss on the cheek. She began to run to the car, backpack swinging back and forth on her back, the metal bracelets on her arm bouncing with her every step. "Maybe we should get her a milkshake."

Tony opened the door, and she jumped in, landing on top of him.

"Hi, Daddy!" She placed a kiss on his cheek, moving to sit on the other seat. She shrugged off her backpack and threw it below her feet before buckling herself. "Hi, Happy!"

"Hi, Tokyo. You buckled?" He asked her, looking at Tony through the rearview mirror. She nodded, looking out the window. "I was thinking of getting a milkshake, want one?"

Her face lit up, and she turned to her dad. Tony smiled, nodding at her.

"Yes please!" They began their drive, and she was watching him. He didn't realize it until he glanced at her and she quickly looked away.

"Why are you watching me, creepy lady?" Her face reddened, embarrassed from being caught. "I'm too handsome for you not to look at, is that it?"

She rolled her eyes, smiling at his comment. "Of course, Daddy. You're the handsomest man in the world."

"Whoa, wait up," Happy spoke from the front, feigning shock. "Last week you said I was the handsomest man in the world."

"Well," She stopped, thinking. "You both are."

"Mhm," Tony raised an eyebrow, causing her to give a shy smile. "Nice save."

They sat in silence for a few moments before she spoke up. "What's wrong?"

"Hm?" He looked at her, but she was looking out the window. "What do you mean?"

"You're sad."

"I'm not sad." He made eye contact with Happy once more.

"See? You and Happy are looking at each other And I know when you're sad, just like you know when I'm sad."

"You know when I'm sad?"

"Mhm. I know when you're happy, sad, mad. I know what you're feeling all the time."

"All the time? How?"

"You're deflecting, Dad."

Dad? He was definitely screwed.

"That's a big word for a first-grader." She gave him a look, "Okay, fine. We have to talk."

"Okay. Are you going somewhere?"

"Y-Well, yes." He cleared his throat, nervous. He didn't know how she was going to react. Will she cry? Be angry? Shut down? "But it's different this time."

She shrugged "I think I'll be okay."

He took a deep breath and watched her, gauging her reaction. "We're moving. To California."

She opened her mouth but hesitated.

"Are you mad?" He asked quietly.

"No. Never at you, Daddy." Big brown eyes looked into his, and he smiled slightly. "Is that all?"

"Yeah," He gave a relieved sigh, ruffling her hair.

"Cool. Are we still getting a milkshake, Happy?"

Tokyo handled the move amazingly well. Tony thought she would cry, throw a tantrum, be angry at him for having to leave her life. She seemed unfazed. It's been two years, and she's still doing great.

"Stark Industries." Pepper answered the phone. Tony was resting his eyes, worn out from the meeting. "Oh, well, he's right here."

"Tony," He opened his eyes as Pepper nudged him, hand covering the receiver of the phone. "It's Tokyo's school."

"Oh shit," He sat up, taking the phone from her hands. "Hello?"

"Mr. Stark? It's Mrs. Forman. I'm calling because there was an incident. We tried to call your personal phone but you weren't picking up."

"Yes, I apologize, I left it in the hotel room this morning. What happened? Is To-Lilah okay?"

"As of right now, she's fine."

"What do you mean, 'as of right now'? What happened?"

"We already contacted Mr. Hogan and he's on his way to the hospital with her."

"The hospital? Why is my daughter on the way to the hospital?" He muttered, waving off Pepper and running a hand down his face. "What did she do?"

"It's not something she did, per se, but she did break her wrist."

"Whoa, wait. What? What do you mean she sprained her wrist?" He covered the microphone, turning to Pepper. "Book me the next flight home. Now."

"And she sprained her ankle, Mr. Stark."

"What the hell happened to my daughter, Mrs. Forman?"

"She was on the monkey bars and slipped off. She landed on her wrist, and another kid fell on her foot."

"I can't believe this." He mumbled, hanging up the phone. He looked over at Pepper, worry on her face. He shook his head, before looking back out the window.

He landed in LA two hours later and arrived home an hour later. The car was in the driveway, and he practically barged into the house. Tokyo and Happy were sitting on the couch, eating pizza and hot wings. They froze as soon as they saw Tony, Happy slowly standing and exiting the room. Tokyo set her food down, not looking at him.

"I got a call from the school." He said, slowly walking towards her.

"I know." She tried to move over, but he stopped her.

He sat down on the other side of her, examining her injuries. "Want to tell me what happened?"

"I fell off the monkey bars." She was watching the TV, but she wasn't focused on it. He turned it off, pulling her attention back to him.

"How so?"

"I don't know. I was climbing them with Alex, and then I heard Jonah's voice in my head, and I was looking for him but he wasn't there. And then when I had gotten to the next monkey bar, there was a zap and I fell."

"And Alex? Did he feel it too?"

"Yeah, but he was a little behind me."

"How behind?"

"Like two."

"Can I see your cast?" She lifted it, and he grabbed it slowly. Her fingers were purple and blue in some spots. "Those are some nasty bruises."

"Mhm," She tried to move them around, but winced at the pain. "I can't write with my left hand, so I don't know how I'm gonna do my schoolwork, Daddy."

"Don't worry about that, hm? I'll talk to the principal and your teacher. Okay?"

"Okay."

He turned the tv back on, laying back. "So, what were we watching?"

"Anastasia."

"Again?" She nodded, face turning red. "Alright, let's do this."

"Wait!" She turned her head slightly, hand on his to stop him from pressing play. "Happy!"

"Uh, Dad?" Tony looked up from his lab station, Tokyo standing at the entrance. She looked nervous and...embarrassed? "Um, something happened."

"What?" He put down his tools, moving towards her. "Are you okay?"

"I kinda started..." She trailed off, looking at him in hopes that he picked up what she was putting down. He was clueless.

"You kinda started what? A fire?"

"N-no, I, uh, my, uh..." She covered her ears. "JARVIS help."

"It appears Ms. Stark has started her menstrual cycle," JARVIS answered.

The color drained from his face. "Oh."

"I, uh, asked Pepper if she could bring me some, uh, you know."

"Pads, sir." JARVIS clarified.

"I know, JARVIS." He looked at her, not knowing what to say.

"I'm going back upstairs." She turned, but he stopped her.

"Next time, tell me. I'll get them for you." He felt awkward, but she was his responsibility. His parenting classes had informed him of the situation and how to handle it, but he didn't realize it would be so soon. "I'm your dad. Don't be embarrassed."

"Okay."

"Do you need anything else?" She thought for a moment before shaking her head. "Okay. I'll be up to make dinner in a bit."

"Okay." And with that, she sprinted up the stairs.

Tony was fuming. He felt as if smoke was coming out of his ears. He doesn't think he's been this angry before. Let alone at Tokyo. Not even when she broke his prototype.

He didn't say a word the whole way home. He gripped the steering wheel, glancing at her from time to time. She was avoiding him, staring out the window the whole ride home.

He had pulled up to the driveway, parking the car. She jumped out, racing to the front door. By the time he got to the door, she was heading inside. "Where do you think you're going?"

She stopped her beeline to her room, standing still and facing away from him.

"Look at me." She turned, backpack hanging from her shoulder. It was then that he realized she was different. He just couldn't place it. "You're not getting out of this."

"I'm not trying to." She raised an eyebrow.

"Tell me what happened." He crossed his arms over his chest, foot tapping impatiently. She looked away from him, picking at her fingernails. "Now, Lilah."

"What's going on?" Pepper came out from the office, followed by Happy. She looked worried.

"Nothing that concerns you."

"Watch yourself!" His jaw clenched, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Lilah punched a kid at school."

"What?" Pepper looked at her, stepping forward slightly. "Why, Tokyo?"

The young girl huffed, looking down at her hands. "He wouldn't stop grabbing me, even after I told him to stop."

"He grabbed you?"

"You can't just hit someone every time they touch you!" Tony exclaimed, shocked at what he was hearing.

"I don't! It was just this one time!"

The energy in the room was high, Tony thought he could hear static.

"It doesn't make it okay!"

"Stop!" Pepper yelled, holding up a hand to quiet Tony. She walked forward to where she could talk to her. "What do you mean that he grabbed you?"

"I wasn't paying attention to him, so he kept on grabbing my wrist. I told him to stop and he grabbed my waist and turned me to face him. And I punched him in the face."

It was at that moment that he realized what had happened. She was standing up for herself. Defending herself.

"He's done this before?" Tony asked, quieter.

"It's okay, it doesn't bother me anymore I don't know why I-"

"It's not okay," Pepper interrupted her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad you punched him."

"Did you explain this to the principal?"

"Yes, but he didn't care." She looked towards Happy, who hadn't spoken. "It's my fault. If I paid attention to him he wouldn't have grabbed me the way he did and it's my fault."

"No, it's not." Pepper turned to him, anger evident in her eyes. "Tony, you have to do something."

"There's no point!" She cried out, obviously frustrated with the whole ordeal. "Can we please just drop it? I'm already suspended, so there's no point."

"I can call the principal and-"

"Just drop it!" She threw her hands up, the power cutting for a second before turning back on. She turned and sprinted up the stairs to her room.

Happy followed her after a few moments, leaving Pepper and Tony alone.

"You need to call the school and sort this out."

"I will. I just, I need a moment to process what she just told me." He sat down on the couch, head in hands. "I was hoping, that she would never have to deal with this."

"I think we all did. It's not something we want to happen."

"No, it's not." Sighing, he looked at her. "She's fourteen. How long do you think this has been going on?"

"I-I'm not sure, Tony. Honestly."

"She's come home a few times with bruises on her arms. You could tell that someone had grabbed her but I..." He trailed off, disappointment in himself setting in. "I brushed it off."

"You couldn't have known."

"I did." They turned as Happy walked down the last few steps, a sad look on his face. "She told me that this boy was bothering her, grabbing her to get her attention. She gets uncomfortable every time she's around him. I told her, 'next time he grabs you, sock that fucker in the face.'"

"Guess she took your advice." Tony looked down at his hands, picking at his fingernails. "She won't even talk to me."

"She's scared of approaching you." He looked regretful as soon as the words slipped out. "Says she doesn't want you to be angry at her."

"Why would I be angry?"

"I think you should talk to her. Let her tell you. Let her know that you're there."

"Take her an ice pack, and talk to her while you're up there," Pepper told him, leaving no room for argument.

Nodding, he followed her advice. He went up after the sun had gone down, assuming it was enough time to allow her to cool down. When he entered her room, she was curled up on her bed, facing the window. Her room was dark, the only light coming from the moon. Lilah was watching the waves crash against the shore before pulling back into the ocean.

Much like her.

"I'm sorry for punching that kid." She mumbled, voice hoarse.

"I'm not." He sat on her bed, waiting until she was facing him to hand her the ice pack. "You did the right thing."

"It's just, he creeps me out." She started, and Tony felt a tiny bit of happiness at her opening up to him.

"Maybe you should be rude. Let him know that you mean business."

"I was at first, but he wouldn't go away. So I just gave up."

He felt helpless. So he talked slowly, hoping it would come to him.

"I'm going to call the principal, and tell him about what happened-no arguing." She nodded, closing her mouth. She twirled the bracelet around her wrist, the red star in the middle glimmering every time it hit the moonlight. "But you're already suspended, and I'm not going to try and revoke that."

"So I have to stay here with Happy for the rest of the week?"

"No," He spoke before he could think. "I'm taking the rest of the week off. I miss spending time with you. Feel like I never see you anymore."

"Me too." She sat up, adjusting the ice pack. "I didn't do this for attention, just so you know."

"Oh, I know." The idea came to him, right then and there. "I hope you'll tell me the next time this kid bothers you though."

"I will." She stood up, stretching out her hand. "I have to go apologize to Pepper. I was mean."

He chuckled. "Yeah. I don't think she cares about that. I think she's worried more about you. But still, apologize."

"I am."

"Okay, go say you're sorry and then start making dinner. I need to make a phone call."

"How'd it go?" Happy asked as soon as they walked in the door. Tokyo shrugged her shoulders, sighing. "Uh oh."

"Yeah, I-" She took out her license, a smile taking over her face. "Passed!"

"Congratulations!" He pulled her in for a hug, placing a kiss on her head. "Who taught you better? Me or your old man over there?"

"Hey, I'm not old," Tony spoke up, placing the keys on their hangar. "Second, I taught her better."

"You both taught me amazingly well." She began towards the stairs. "I'm gonna go call Jonah, give him the good news."

A scream came from up top, Jonah's laughter filling the air. Tony was about to run up the stairs when Happy stopped him.

"Jonah's up there," Happy told him. "Wanted to surprise her."

"More like scare her," Tony added, heading into the kitchen.

"Do you think she's doing better with him here?"

"I mean, she's happier."

"But not better."

"Look, I love Jonah. He's my godson and her best friend," He lowered his voice, not wanting anyone else to hear. "But I think he's making her worse."

"How?"

"I could feel it. It's not right." He sighed, making his way to the fridge. "Plus, she was crying the other night. Couldn't sleep. She was having nightmares."

"Like, the ones in New York?"

"Exactly like those. She said that these were worse. Scarier. They seemed more real."

"Tio Tony!" Jonah called. He turned to find both teenagers climbing down the stairs, his godson outstretching his hands. "How are you?"

He hugged the boy, an uneasy feeling clawing at his stomach. "Hey Jonah, what are you guys doing?"

"She told me about her license. Sucks she got it the day before we graduate."

"You have your license," Tokyo interjected, narrowing her eyes at him. "You've made it quite clear."

The environment got very hostile. Not physically, but emotionally. Mentally. Tony felt the air around him thicken and felt as if there were static.

Jonah laughed it off, hugging the girl. She hugged him back, hesitantly. "Alright, well. I've got to go. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

They bid their goodbyes. Tokyo ran upstairs to get ready for tomorrow.

"Did you feel that?" Happy asked, eyes wide.

"What did I say?" He leaned in closer.

"Do you think something happened?"

"I fucking hope not."

"She's two people down from this side." Pepper pointed out Toyko, who waved at her family.

"Can't believe she's already graduating. I feel like she just went into kindergarten yesterday." Happy spoke up, having been there since she was a toddler.

"I know. This is it. Besides college." Tony said, watching as she quickly became next in line.

The purple gown and cap were on every female student, the males in white. She was wearing the white dress she wore to her father's parties, white flats as well. The silver bracelets she never took off were on her wrists, and she wore silver hoops as well. Who knew he would have focused on her outfit this much?

"Lilah Stark." The teacher called.

They cheered her on, watching as she shook hands with the principal and took the photo with her diploma. She was smiling the whole way back to her seat, speaking to the girls in front of her.

Tony didn't realize it until he was outside, but he was crying. She came out of the stadium, eyes searching for her dad. When they made eye contact, she practically ran at them.

"Congratulations baby," Tony muttered into her hair, arms wrapping around her as she hugged him tightly. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you, Daddy." She let go of him, hugging Pepper and Happy. "Where's Uncle Jason, and Jonah, and Aunt Vivie?"

"I'm not sure." He looked around, not spotting them anywhere. They didn't sit together at graduation. "Maybe we'll see them at the house later."

At the house, Tokyo rid herself of the cap and gown. They threw a small party, just the four of them. Tony was telling stories of her childhood, drunk and tears streaming down his face.

"Okay, Dad, I kinda have a surprise for you." She spoke up, and he turned his attention to her. She lowered the music that was currently playing, pulling out a letter from one of the books.

"Oh, Tony, you might want tissues handy." Pepper nudged him.

"Okay so, Daddy, I have to let you know that I wrote this a few years ago. And then some more at like 3 am."

"I feel special." He chuckled, sipping on his whiskey.

"Yeah," she nervously laughed, straightening the paper. "Dear Daddy, if you're listening to this, it means that I've finally graduated. I made it through senior year, and am now on my way to college. I'm writing this early because you never know what could happen. I might graduate earlier than expected, or I might graduate on time.

"I know you're upset that I didn't go to MIT at 14 as you did. But I did apply to MIT and I got a full-ride scholarship for civil engineering. I began thinking of your stories. You spent your teenage years in college and less at home with grandma and grandpa. I wanted to do that too, but I couldn't bring myself to leave you. I wanted to spend the rest of my adolescent life with you in every way I could. I didn't want to leave you sooner than I had to. You are my soulmate. You understand me in a way no one else does. Happy once said that we were more alike than different. If I remember correctly he said, 'Stop finishing each other's thoughts. You guys are creeping me the fuck out.' We were talking about getting a sandwich from Subway and had gone for the same sub.

"Moving on, I want you to know that I love you, so much."

Her voice cracked, and she fanned her face with her hand.

"I know I worried you a lot when you went on business trips. I told you it was because I was afraid you would leave and never come back. At the time, I thought it was because you had the choice to leave me. As I got older, I realized that wasn't the reason. I feared you would leave me, but not by choice. I can't imagine what it's like raising a child, let alone raising a daughter. You did a great fucking job, Dad. I know you have moments of self-doubt. But believe me, you're the greatest fucking person on Earth."

"Those are a lot of curse words, young lady." Pepper jokes, causing the group to laugh lightly.

"I owe you the world. You are the reason I was able to graduate. You encouraged me and battered me into becoming a great student. I really couldn't have done this without you. I graduated because of you, Daddy."

She was in tears, and so was he. They all were. Tony stood, hugging her tightly.

"I love you, you know that?' He kissed the side of her head.

"I love you more, my pretty boy."

Tony woke with a start.

He couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. He felt it. It was just that feeling. Getting out of bed, he went to check on Tokyo. She wasn't in her bed.

"Tokyo? Baby?" He called out as he walked downstairs. She wasn't there, and nothing was out of place. Running back to his room, he grabbed his phone and dialed Jason.

"Tony." He sounded panicked.

"Jason, is Tokyo there?"

"No, I was gonna ask if Jonah was at yours."

"He's not. And neither is Tokyo." He ran a hand over his face, suddenly remembering JARVIS. "Maybe JARVIS saw them."

Covering the microphone, he called out for the AI. No answer.

"What the fuck?"

"What?" Jason asked, worry evident in his voice.

"He's not answering." He walked over to his emergency computer, trying to find out the problem. "Oh, God."

'What, Tony? Did you find them?"

"No, J-JARVIS was disabled. Someone took Tokyo."

"Calm down. Are you sure it wasn't Tokyo who disabled it?"

"It-it wasn't her."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm watching the person who disabled him."

"Right now?"

"No, from five minutes ago."

[fluffyskies]

The Monster at Night

Sanders Sides

Ship: Moxiety [Virgil x Patton]

Category: Tickling (Tickle fic)

Roles: Ler Virgil, Lee Patton!

Summary: Something is lurking at night time who could it be, what could it be?

Patton was just about to go to bed after tucking in the others, but thing is he wasn't really tired. So he decided to down stairs and get a warm glass of milk because he remembered Logan saying that it can help you get to sleep. Little did he know that he woke up a certain Stormcloud.

After Patton had a glass of milk he laid on the couch hoping to get sleepy. The milk apparently didn't help he was wide awake and still couldn't sleep.

The moral side just sighed. Wishing there was a way for him to get sleepy. Then out of no where he heard someone talking.

"Why hello Patton~"

"Huh? whose there?" Patton said a little startled

"Oh you'll find out later~"

"O-ok, well why are you here?" Patton asked the voice

"Well I heard from a little birdie that you needed some help falling asleep"

"Oh yeah I can't seem to get sleepy...I even tried drinking warm milk."

"Tsk tsk that's not the efficient way to get sleepy" said the voice

"Then whaaaat iiiiisss??" complained the fatherly side

"Be patient Patton good things come to those who wait~"

"But will you help me?"

"How? You got an idea in mind? asked the voice

"N-no but..."

"Hmmmm I suppose I could lend a hand"

"Really?" Patton said hopeful

"Mhm just do something for me"

"What is it?"

"Close your eyes and don't open till I say so ok~?"

"That's it ok?" Patton didn't really think much of it though it was a bit strange that the voice said to close his eyes. It's supposed to help him fall asleep so he didn't question it.

Patton heard foot steps then heard shuffling on the couch and felt the sofa dip a bit.

"Can I open yet?"

"Nooope, not yet~"

It had been a minute or so since Patton asked and he was gonna ask again but then he heard the voice. Wait it sounds familiar up close?

"Ok you can open now~" the voice instructed

So he did as the voice said and was surprised at what he saw.

"V-virgil?"

"Yes it's me~"

Patton at this moment was looking at Virgil who was looming over him.

"S-so you said your gonna help me sleep, like tell me bed time stories or sing lullabies?"

"Yep, though...those are good suggestions but I was thinking this was fit for the job"

"What do you mean by this?"

Virgil didn't answer because he rather show Patton then tell him. He grabbed Patton's hands and secured them under his legs as he straddled his waist.

"I'm mean this~" Virgil said as he gave a wink

Patton now obviously catching on to his intentions was giggling and trying to wiggle away.

"Ah ah ahh where do you think your going?"

"U-umm n-no where?"

"Exactly"

"V-virge?

"I'm not Virgil anymore...I'm the Tickle monster now~"

"H-huhehe?"

"Did you really think you were safe from the Tickle monster at night???"

"U-uhuhuhumm..."

"Well your surely mistaken... because I have you riiight here to smother with tickles~"

With that Virgil reached his hand to flutter this fingers on Patton's neck making his titters into squeaks and squeals.

"Ehehek! ihihit tihihickles!"

"I know it does Patty cake~

Patton went red at the nickname

"Awe your all blushy~" Virgil cooed as he reached with his other hand to trace the shell of his ear.

At this point Patton was a puddle of giggles on the couch, and the fact that Virgil wasn't really full on tickling him. He also never saw this side of him before all teasey and playful he hoped he'd see more of this. But right now he was a blabbing mess under his devious fingers.

Virgil went back and forth with tickling, he'd go for his right ear then left when he turned his head to cover it. It was also the same with his neck but he had to watch out that he didn't get his hands caught when Patton brought his shoulders up.

"Eeeehahahah!" Ihihit tihickles soho muhuhuch!" Patton giggled

"Bet it does~"

It had been about 10 to 15 minutes of this light tickling so he decided to stop. Patton's breath was starting to sound wheezy and he's probably tired. After he stopped he watched Patton breathe and steady his breath, he also took note of Patton's eyes being droopy.

Patton yawned. "Ah I-I think...I'm..ready...for. be..d..n.ow..." and he was out like a light.

"Pat?" Virgil asked by it was useless Patton was now fully asleep with a smile on his face.

Virgil couldn't help but smile at him so he got a blanket and put it on him. He also decided that he would sleep with him because he didn't want him to be alone and partially because he was to tired to go back to his room.

So the two of them were found cuddling in the morning, but they were both asleep and still smiling.

Hope you liked! It's been a while since I posted so here is a little something I put together ☺️. Sorry if there were mistakes and hope you have a great day :D

[prolestariwrites]

The Wish [4]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, V, Lady, Eva, Sparda, OC Rating: General Tags: Family, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Typical demon hunting violence

Summary: A demon gives Dante the chance to have his greatest desires made real. When he finds himself in a seemingly idyllic life, all seems well until it starts to unravel. Will he sacrifice himself to save the family he lost, or will he choose to give them up for the truth?

Now posted: Chapter 4, in which Dante puts on his detective hat to get to the bottom of what happened in Red Grave City and Fortuna.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Chapter 4: Puzzle Pieces

To say he’s surprised when he wakes up in the morning is an understatement. Who has a dream in a dream and wakes up still in the dream? Dante frowns as he opens his eyes to find himself in the same bed, same room, pressed against Lir. She is still sleeping, laying on her stomach and holding her pillow, her bare body warm and perfect against his chest.

He props himself up a bit on an elbow to think for a minute. She seems lovely and, if the night before is any indication, hot as hell. Of all the girls Dante had ever been with, he doesn’t ever remember it being sweet and sexy and passionate all at the same time. The women he met were either sweet but boring, or hot and crazy. Having a girlfriend or whatever was not high on the list of priorities.

The sheet has pulled a bit, revealing her back and a bit of her backside. Dante moves almost instinctually, and when he presses closely against her, he wonders if he’ll remember all this when he wakes up.

Unless this isn’t a dream? Lir shifts and rolls a bit, leaning against him with a sigh. Wait, what if it’s not? 

Dante runs through possibilities in his head. Once more he reviews the last things he remembers: namely, fighting with Nero in the warehouse. There was a demon they had to find, but then what? His brows draw together as he chastises himself. Think, stupid. He remembers Nero yelling, and the swarm, and then he’s heading upstairs. In a hallway?

Shaking his head, Dante decides to leave that for now. Truth is, it didn’t matter what happened to him. What matters is figuring out what is happening now, and how to make it stop so he can get back to his life.

Lir shifts beside him and the last thought has him feeling confused. Does he… want this to end? Isn’t this what he’s always wanted? 

I can grant you a fortune that has nothing to do with money.

Like a key in a lock, suddenly it all clicks. There was that demon, he remembers now. Dante shifts to sit up a bit, rubbing his hand on his face. It was breeding and it tried to bribe him… His eyes go wide as bits come back, like puzzle pieces that are too bent to fit perfectly. It offered him money and he told it that he didn’t want to be a devil hunter. Could that thing have done this?

An uncomfortable burn fills his throat as Dante swallows thickly. That demon created this, brought his entire family back, but how? His eyes dart around the room, his body and mind suddenly alert, as if the answer will jump out and bite him. The more he experiences and the more vivid things get, the clearer it becomes that this isn’t some dream he’s having. Maybe this is some kind of illusion, and he’s laying at the bottom of the warehouse with his brains getting munched on by demons, blissfully unaware anything’s wrong. Maybe he’s in someone else’s body, living their life, sleeping with their wife? But they all call him Dante, and that was for sure his own parents and brother at dinner. Can’t be time travel, since none of this happened, and it’s the same date that it would have been back in his own timeline. 

Maybe he died? This could be heaven. Dante snorts and lays back on the pillows. Didn’t know devils could go to heaven.

“Everything okay?” Lir’s voice is sleepy as she rolls towards him, and he puts his arm around her when her head rests on his chest.

“Yeah,” Dante sighs. “Just wondering if this is heaven.”

She chuckles and presses a kiss to his shoulder. “I know I’m good but I’m not that good.” She climbs over him again, and Dante’s chest gets tight when his eyes drag down. Now that the sun is up and the room is bright he can see just how gorgeous she is. His hands go to her hips and he wonders if they’re gonna have a round two, but she places a kiss on the corner of his mouth before moving away. “So nice to sleep in for once,” she sighs, heading into the bathroom.

“Yeah,” he says after her, but then remembers he sleeps in every day.

After throwing on some sweatpants and a t-shirt Dante heads downstairs to find breakfast. He wonders if this Dante cooks up eggs and pancakes in the morning, since his Dante usually has some leftover pizza crust and two glasses of whiskey. He decides to compromise and puts a bagel in the toaster, and by the time it pops Lir has joined him in the kitchen to brew coffee and sit down with an orange at the table. 

It’s still confusing as hell what he’s doing here: he’s not dreaming, it’s not time travel, he’s not someone else, so maybe… this really is real? What if all that other stuff, with his parents dying and living on the streets, and the Temen-ni-gru and Mallet Island and the Order, what if that was the dream? But that doesn’t make sense either, and Dante rubs his face in frustration. 

There are other things that don’t make sense too, like why Nero is the wrong age and why his wife was so surprised he owned a gun. Doesn’t she know he is a demon hunter? Does she even know he’s half-demon? Dante glances around as if someone might be watching. It’s time to test this place and see what happens, he decides. There must be a reason why he’s here. And if it’s some bad guy doing bad things, he’s going to get to the bottom of it.

Dante carries his food to join her and sits down a bit nervously. “I need to talk to you,” he says.

Lir eyes him curiously. “Yeah? Everything okay?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Is telling her this going to make the whatever-this-is implode? Only one way to find out. “This isn’t real, right? You know that?”

“Huh?”

Dante gestures around the kitchen. “All this. You a plant?”

“A what?”

“Are you a bug or something?”

“Dante…” Lir frowns. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He eyes her suspiciously, every sense on high alert, waiting for her to react. It’s possible she is a demon in this weird reality, and once revealed will attack. It occurs to him then that would mean he was balls deep in a demon twice last night, and decides to put that aside to throw up about later. “Do you remember the warehouse?”

“What warehouse?” she sighs.

“Okay, what about Nero? The guy with the white hair?”

Lir rolls her eyes. “Yes, I know who Nero is. What is your point?”

Dante presses his lips together. Maybe she’s not a demon? What if she’s something else? “Want to go to dinner again tonight?” he asks.

“We just went out last night,” she laughs.

“Yeah, so what? We can afford it.”

Lir shakes her head. “I really just want to hang out at home today. Why don’t we just order a pizza and watch a movie or something?”

Dante folds his arms. “Order a pizza?”

“Yeah?”

He narrows his eyes as she pops another slice of orange into her mouth. “Extra olives, right?”

She glances over at him with a strange expression as she swallows. “I thought you hated them?”

“Just testing.” She gives him a weary look and picks up her coffee as Dante studies her. Whoever she is, she’s a tough one to crack. “Say, Lir, do you remember how we met?”

“Of course I do,” she chuckles.

Dante lifts his eyebrows, feeling like a detective in a mystery novel. “Describe what happened.”

Lir gives a huff, clearly annoyed. “What is with you?”

“I want to see if you remember,” he replies.

“Of course I remember,” she protests.

“Then prove it.”

She sighs with a roll of her eyes. “Fine. I came into your shop looking for help. Do you remember?”

Huh, that’s an interesting bit of information. So she does know he is a demon hunter, but was surprised he uses weapons? Suspicious now, he taps his chin. “So you came into the shop, huh? And what was I doing?”

Lir shakes her head. “I don’t know. Fixing something probably.”

“Fixing something? Like what?”

She frowns for a moment before answering, “Wait, I think I actually remember. It was an Iron 883.” Dante’s eyes go wide as she smiles. “Yeah, I do remember because I remember wondering if you would fit on it.”

Lir laughs as he leans forward. “I was working on a bike?” he exclaims.

“Well yeah, what else would you be doing in the shop? Baking cookies?” She chuckles at her joke. “God damn, you annoyed me so much that day. I just needed a charge but you insisted on checking everything. I told you three times I knew which wire had to be replaced and just needed to get to the weekend to do it but you wanted to take the whole bike apart.” Lir smiles at him flirtatiously. “I think you were just trying to keep me there.”

Dante gapes at her. “I fix bikes? That’s the shop?”

She studies him for a moment and tilts her head. “Dante, you’ve been acting strangely the past two days. Did something happen? Are you feeling okay? You’re worrying me.”

He blinks in response, still processing. Family alive, money in the bank, hot wife, and now a dream job? This place really is too good to be true, but he just shakes his head. “Nah, I was just seeing if you remembered. Of course I’m good.”

Lir hesitates a moment before changing the subject, and Dante nods along, listening as she talks about getting the laundry started and even agreeing to mow the lawn. She pats his arm before disappearing upstairs, and Dante heads out back to find the mower, turning over everything again in his mind.

It starts right up and he walks in neat rows over the lawn—his lawn—their lawn—debating if he should do anything about this. So he's not a devil hunter… does that mean there are no demons? No wonder they were all so surprised to hear he had a gun. Dante is all at once very aware of missing Ebony and Ivory, and for a crazy moment wonders if he could look up old Nell and ask a favor. But what would he even need them for?

If he is dying, this is a pretty good way to go, right? It’s a lot better than getting snapped in half or set on fire or impaled or sent through a grinder. He presses his lips together as he remembers Vergil driving his father’s sword through him. Hell of a lot better.

Mowing is actually not too bad, and he enjoys the physical work to help him think. He had never pictured himself the kind of guy who likes a nice lawn, but he’s got to admit it’s damn satisfying to see it all done. As he stashes the mower away in the garage, he thinks he wouldn’t mind this life at all… but Dante decides in the end he’s not quite ready to just accept this new reality, at least not before finding out everything he can about where he is now.

Back inside, he heads up to the office and turns on the computer. Dante grabs a tablet of paper from the drawer and a pen. He writes Red Grave → Temen-ni-gru, then underneath, Fortuna → the Order. After a moment’s hesitation, he also writes Dumary Island, and below that, Mallet Island.

Dante opens a search engine and starts typing. Red Grave City is obviously much different, he could tell from the car ride yesterday, and Dante assumes it’s because it’s not teeming with demons. After all, if the Temen-ni-gru never erupted in town, then there’s no reason for them to be there. He scans the headlines of the local papers for good measure but it’s just as he suspected: no weird deaths, no missing people, just some news about the school board vote and…

He stops short and gapes at the screen. The mayor is on the front page, giving a press conference about some tax on cigarettes, and Dante almost pinches himself when he realizes it’s Morrison. “Well damn,” he snorts. Looks like everyone’s doing better in this crazy place.

Next he types Fortuna in the search bar, bracing himself for what he finds. But there’s nothing. No talk of destruction, no reconstruction efforts, no memorials for the dead. Dante does some searching for the Order, a bit surprised to find that they do exist, but not nearly as powerful as they were when he was in Fortuna. It seems that they are like any other religious group, and he taps his finger on the desk in thought as he reads a profile on the Order on a travel website.

So Red Grave City never got overrun by devils, and Fortuna never got destroyed by the Savior. His parents didn’t die, which means Vergil would not raise the tower of power. No tower, no falling into hell. No hell, no losing Yamato, no getting found by the Order, no Savior. It makes sense really, and he sighs, realizing for the first time just how many people had been affected by demons coming to their home and killing his mother. He knew it had changed everything for him and Vergil, of course, but now there’s countless other families out there who suffered because of Mundus. Well, there were, anyway.

Just one last question is bugging him, and he picks up the phone on the desk. Dante frowns as he dials a number he had memorized years ago, and the line crackles a bit before it connects.

On the fourth ring an elderly woman picks up the phone. “Hello?” she says, her voice kind but curious.

“Matier?” he says, his mouth going wide in a smile. “Is that really you?”

“Who is this?”

Clearing his throat, he says, “Uh, you probably don’t remember me. We met years and years ago. My name is Dante, and I’m a friend of Lucia’s.”

“Lucia who?”

Dante lets go a deep sigh. He should have figured this would happen. “Sorry, maybe I got the name wrong. I guess you don’t have a daughter?”

“You got the wrong number.”

“Wait, can I ask one more thing?” The line stays connected and he hurries on, “Do you know the name Argosax? Are you still guarding it?”

There is a long pause, and then Matier asks, “Who did you say you were again?”

“Dante. You might know my father, Sparda—”

The line goes dead, and Dante presses the button a few times. He tries to call back, but there is just a busy signal, so he hangs up with a sigh. Yet there is no Lucia, which means no Arius, so Dante figures he can safely assume that Argosax is still sealed—and that means Mundus is as well. The world really is different. Safe.

Lir appears at the door and calls his name. “Vergil’s on the phone. He wants to know if you still want the boys tomorrow. And will you help me with something? I can’t reach the top of the cabinet.”

Dante looks at his list, and crosses out the places he had written. “Yeah, here I come,” he answers with a smile to himself.

[shibalen]

HIYA! This is me ✨ anon! I was about to sleep when you posted this gajshsjs better do it fast- Okay so, I would like a romantic match-up for Akatsuki no Yona and Haikyuu! I dont think I'll be able to summon those other emojis so I would like music box and jewellery box uwu. My nickname is Oya! I am a female with long straight black hairs and black eyes and I wear glasses. I am smol, 160cm, and a bit on the chubby side :"). I am a INTP-T so this shows I am an introverted person. ✨(1/2)✨

I also have trust issues so its really hard for me to open up to new people but once I get to know them I'll never leave their side. I also have anger issues so I bust out at the wrong time hahaha. I love to sleep, eat and be lazy all day doing nothing. If something interests me I would get obsessed with it. I have a disliking towards dogs because of some encounters in the past TvT. Just a little fun fact- sometimes I purr like a kitty 🐯. ✨(2/3)✨ (me made a little mistake I think-)

In a relationship, I would place loyalty and trust over everything else! Oh and I just saw that do you own many plants? Damn my house has like its own garden on the roof. Thanks for this and remember to always take care of yourself and stay safe 🌸 ✨(3/3)✨

♡︎ matchup for ✨anon

howdy! i'm so glad you made it on time. i really hope you enjoy your matches!

akatsuki no yona: i match you with . . .

shin-ah !!

• i know you two sound too similar to be matched but i promise once you come to trust each other the result is the most beautiful !!

• as an intp-t you are easy-going, have rich imagination and don't need extravagant objects in your life to feel happy. i am 100% sure Shin-ah would love these qualities in a lover.

• also, you need not look further for someone loyal and trustworthy because Shin-ah is the perfect example of those traits. no one will cherish you like he does. for you he'd go to the moon and back ♡︎

• he's a little difficult to understand sometimes but over time you learn to read his body language and tone of voice to determine how he's feeling. your bond exceeds the limits of words. it is something much deeper, almost spiritual.

• your relationship development was no doubt a long road, seeing as both of you were rather guarded at first, but i believe it was something that also brought you together.

• before you were ready to join the rest of the gang by the fire during dinners, you would sit by yourself. Shin-ah, being a shy boy but also knowing you were on your guard, began slowly sitting closer to you every time. it was little things like that which made you become closer.

• you grew together very naturally, respecting each others' boundaries until there were almost none between you two (o´ω`o)

• it's so lovely how you're always by each others side, not perhaps always talking but doing things like napping, eating and walking side-by-side. anybody can see what a cute couple you make.

• i'm telling you he's in love with how much passion you have for your interests. when you're telling him about all the plants you like or a crazy dream you had he'd mostly be quiet, hanging on your every word.

• but sometimes you'll catch him with a small smile or muttering "tell me more". you're like his own ray of sunshine

• once to explain it to him, i think he'll be fairly good at understanding your outbursts. he lived with Ao for a long time and knows when someone is under pressure.

• he'll try his best to help you. he has a very calm energy so being about him definitely has a good influence. will very gently reach out to you to get you away from your source of anger. "Oya, let's go."

• giving you his fluff when you're cold !! if you invite him to snuggle up to you, might catch a glimpse of him holding back tears before turning away to wipe them off.

• and speaking of, napping with Shin-ah is the best experience you can ask for: he's so soft and warm, and sometimes he'll hold onto you in his sleep like a small child— gets teased by Jae-Ha about it later shhh

• poor bby gets a little insecure when someone's flirting with you or even having your attention for a little too long :( if you're comfortable with it then he just subtly sulks in the background but if not then he'll be by your side in a second to ward off the character.

• when you're feeling shy or uncomfortable he'll either pull you close to hide within his fluff or pet your head. though he doesn't speak much, his actions speak for themselves.

• he brings you flowers and puts them in your hair. the contrast of your dark hair and light petals make it look like you have a tiny garden on your head, it makes Shin-ah's heart flutter to the point you can see his blush ♡︎

• your dates include romantic moonlit walks in a forest, firefly viewing, napping, making flower crowns and exploring new towns you travel to !!

♫︎ music box

— Dandelions by Ruth B.

— Talk To Me by Cavetown

— Lost In You by Khai Dreams

— Sunshine by Keaton Stormberg

— Angel With A Shotgun by The Cab

♡︎ runner up: Jae-ha

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

haikyuu: i match you with . . .

lev haiba !!

• i know for a fact Lev would l o v e your innovative and curious way of thinking as an intp-t !! also you're chill but don't open up much at first so that raises his curiosity towards you.

• you were classmates but hung around in too different circles to interact properly until . . . you both fell asleep in the same class. the teacher sent you to the corridor to think about your actions.

• while you were feeling embarrassed, Lev was a little cranky that his nap was interrupted and how sleepy he still was. he told you there was nothing to be embarrassed about since it was school in the first place that made you tired.

• despite your differences in personality (and you finding him kind of intimidating), Lev was super friendly and kept talking about volleyball and asking you questions. even afterward he came to talk to you because he honestly found you so pretty and smart and wanted to get to know you more ♡︎

• you soon noticed it was easy to trust him but it wasn't until another while that he asked you out. of course, he wanted to do it sooner but both Kuroo and Yaku said to make sure you were completely comfortable with him first.

• he brought you over to watch when they were having a practice match with Fukurodani. it was great.

• "Oya? " "Oya oya?" "Oya oya oya." i'm sorry i had to

• mate, you guys have over a 30cm height difference !! it's almost a second nature for this boy to pick you up, hug you and spin you around. you drown in his jersey but you know he loves it.

• you don't have to worry about hurting him when getting angry: sunshine boy lets it go easily. he'll only focus of making you feel better by joking around. "it's okay, Oya! compared to Yaku-san you're an angel!"

• when he first heard you purring he was like (´•ω•`)? but then changed to ((っ･ω･)っ lemme hold you you're too cute asdfghjk

• but you know he can be such a blabbermouth sometimes. when he's with the rest of the Nekoma team he can't help but talk about you. how excited you are about your interests, how adorable you are when you're napping, the list never ends, oh dear (¯∇¯٥)

• the boys can't decide whether it's cute or cringe that he has like a hundred pictures of you on his phone and his phone's background is a selfie of the two of you with edited cat ears and whiskers.

• spoiler: it's cute af and it makes him grin everytime he looks at it

• if there aren't any upcoming exams or games you meet up every saturday just to laze around and take it easy. when he gets stressed or is under the weather so being with you is the perfect relief.

• during a particularly rough week he'll complain what sounds like every second of the day. he'll be very whiny and touchy with you until and if you tell him to stop. but at least please hold his hand on your way home !!

• you do dumb but cute stuff together while hanging out like competing who can fit more popcorn in their mouth or doing the duck face with pringles chips and see who will laugh first (it's Lev)

• he can't remember all the types of plants you own so he names them himself. whenever he comes over he'll wave at them and call them something like Tom, Jeffrey or RedWheels666 lol

• a very fulfilling relationship: you provide the down-to-earth approach and the braincells while Lev is the social daredevil that is spontaneous enough for both of you.

• dates with the two of you include stay-at-home dinners with movies, cosy blanket and cuddles, karaoke nights, walks in the park and by ponds as well as visits to zoos and aquariums !!

𑁍 jewellery box

— favourite memory with you:

when you went on a school trip to a beach resort and after a long day of playing beach volleyball and hanging out with friends you two sneaked out to walk along the beach. you were sharing some snacks and chatting away. it was the first time you truly opened up to him. he remembers watching you smile so wide, so beautifully and being absolutely whipped.

— favourite activity to do together:

as much as he l o v e s napping with you, Lev's favourite activity together is, in fact, training. sounds strange, i know, but you don't even have to be athletic or do anything at all, he just likes having you there because you motivate him to do his best. you joke around, and count his pushups—if you're in a gym everyone else is jelly.

— favourite place to kiss you:

your stomach and cheeks. sometimes he challenges you to tickle fights just so he can peck your face with kisses or your belly. they're so soft he can't resist ♡︎

— favourite nicknames to call you by:

baby, because i know he just would. also your nickname and bean because that's what he called you before he knew your name so now it's a running gag between y'all.

— favourite thing about you:

probably that you're just as curious as him about your surroundings. it means that you join in when he gets excited over something instead of scolding him. you also don't mind his blunt nature and know he means well ♡︎

♡︎ runner up: Hajime Iwaizumi

there you go! thank you for the sweet words, i do try taking care though sometimes it's hard (✿^‿^) don't forget to take time off for yourself, dear ♡︎

[presumenothing]

one more light

ALRIGHT SO this isn’t a new fic but i just realised i somehow never did post this to tumblr, so here it is: 2k worth of atla zombie apocalypse non-au. 

no archive warning content beyond the fact of. y’know. zombies

(AO3)

i.

“It’s not your fault, Aang,” Katara says after they beat back the latest siege, and only his sister could still sound sincere even in something they’ve all said at least a dozen times by now.

Sokka feels so proud of her that his heart is almost bursting… or maybe that’s just the effort of hacking his way through dozens of actual damned zombies. A bit of both, really.

Not that the rest of them don’t believe what she’s saying. This whole mess is Sozin and maybe Roku’s fault if it’s anyone’s, and Sokka would gladly repeat that until he went hoarse if he thought Aang would listen.

But Katara is the one who’s always believed in Aang before any of them did, and that sort of thing made a difference.

Or it used to, at least, but today there’s no brightening in Aang’s expression as he stands up, glider having never left his hands. “I’ll take first watch.”

Biting her lower lip, Katara meets Sokka’s gaze as Aang flies off without waiting for any response, and Sokka shakes his head slightly: let him be.

“Twinkletoes fly off again?”

“Yeah.” When Sokka looks over, Toph’s eyebrows are furrowed in what he would’ve called concern if it hadn’t been on someone who could still fling him off the cliff even after a whole day of fighting. “He’s… not doing too well.”

Not that any of them really are, by this point. Toph doesn’t even call him out for stating the obvious, only crosses her arms. “I wish Sparky was here.”

“You and me both,” he admits – and fine, yes, it’s already enough of a lucky coincidence that the four of them had been travelling together when the sudden case of apocalypse broke out, so asking for more would just be tempting fate, but…

Sokka sighs. “I’m sure he’s fine. Jerkbender doesn’t know how to lose.”

Toph’s punch on his shoulder is far lighter than her usual. “You’re a real shitty liar, Snoozles.”

“Doesn’t make me wrong,” Sokka retorts, and he really really hopes he isn’t wrong. Because Zuko has his firebending and his dual swords and a whole palace full of scarily armed guards plus Suki hellbent on protecting the first sane Fire Lord, so there isn’t any reason why he shouldn’t be okay except that there is.

A century of war dead, in every corner of their world. Legion doesn’t even begin to cover it.

.

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ii.

Aang had still tried to be careful, at first – dodging blows from shambling corpses is easier than usual, if anything, and he could call up enough water or earth to freeze a half-dozen bodies in one sweep even if it wouldn’t be fatal (insofar as that applied to the undead).

Not that they really had any other option besides stopping them permanently; Katara had tried healing once, on someone who’d just been turned an hour before, and the way her entire face had gone grey answered that well enough.

But Aang is still their most powerful fighter, and after everything with Ozai none of them had been willing to say anything until they almost lost three people to a too-quick thaw. Toph had been the one to react, a flying shard of rock decapacitating the half-frozen zombie with extreme prejudice right before it could lurch onto the cowering villagers, and later she’d also been the one to say it.

“They’re already dead, Aang! Someone’s going to die if you keep this up, and it’s gonna be one of us still alive!” Toph had shouted, eyes glimmering even as Aang stood too quiet and too still, and even now Sokka isn’t sure which had been the worse sight.

.

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iii.

In a way, taking down zombies as a non-bender is – well, maybe not easier, but at least a sword thrust clean through the throat works just the same on everything.

It wouldn’t have been Sokka’s first choice of target before, but at least he hadn’t needed to change strategies as much as the benders had: internal injuries from blunt force rock don’t slow down an opponent who lacked working organs to start with, and getting frozen in ice probably ranked as a minor inconvenience compared to literally being dead.

Toph had begun hoarding metal after their first fight, and now could bend and fire wickedly-sharp blades in a manner scarily reminiscent of Mai except she never ran out. Katara’s ice missiles aim for the head instead, and Sokka doesn’t need a closer look to know that her ice had gotten denser, heavier somehow, even if he doesn’t quite know how.

At least air still works the same in clearing a swathe through the hordes when they need it, which is just as well – Aang fights almost solely as an airbender, now.

It had taken Sokka a while to realise, since he’d initially sorta assumed that Aang had just been avoiding any use of fire (because the stench of rotten flesh burning is really enough to make anyone consider joining Aang in vegetarianism).

But then he’d paid more attention, and confirmed it with Katara and Toph: Aang really doesn’t fight with anything but air unless he’s forced to. Like he’s not the Avatar at all.

And that makes its own sense, in a twisty sort of way – even after they’d ended the war and brought some sort of peace Sokka knows that Aang still blames himself for having let things get that far, and being the bridge to the spirits doesn’t help this situation at all because it had nothing to do with the spirits to begin with as far as they could tell, so what good is the Avatar?

…just because it makes sense doesn’t mean that Sokka has to like it, and he is going to confront Aang about it one of these days as soon as he’s figured out what to say. Just like how he still needs to talk to Katara about what the heck happened during that fight in the desert.

(All Sokka knows for sure is that Katara had run out of water to bend even though they still had far too many zombies to take down, so instead she had reached and–

Empty bodies had fallen like cut marionettes in a half-circle around her, in the same moment that Katara had turned to the side and thrown up, and if Sokka’s being honest with himself he thinks he can figure out what happened there too even without asking Katara about it.)

(There are many things they don’t talk about, these days.)

.

.

iv.

At least it’s a blessing in disguise that Aang and Zuko had already gone through the Air Temples to perform the appropriate rites, because they’ve proved to be the current best option for evacuating people and keeping them safe.

Not that the temples are invulnerable, not by a long shot – but it’s better than staying on flat ground, and definitely way better than it would’ve been if there’d still been century-old corpses scattered around.

Also, it turns out zombies aren’t really keen on higher altitudes. Who could’ve guessed?

Admittedly the temples were never built to host that many people, especially not after standing vacant for this long, but it’s the best they can do for now. Iroh had told them about the White Lotus safehouses, of course, just in case everything went wrong during the comet and they needed some place to regroup, but Sokka has to wonder if those are fortified enough.

He tries to imagine Master Piandao preparing for the zombie apocalypse and can’t help a snicker.

Aang, staring straight ahead, doesn’t notice.

It’s just the two of them on Appa now as they make their way back down from ferrying more people up to the temple, so Sokka isn’t expecting it when Aang shoots upright from his seat on Appa’s head, turning wide-eyed to shout in the direction of the saddle. “Take the reins, I have to get down there!”

Sokka almost yelps in alarm when Aang barely waits for his glider to open before throwing himself out mid-air, but then he looks down and does swear a dozen things that would have Gran-Gran washing his mouth out if she heard, because there’s no mistaking those bursts of blue fire.

He urges Appa down at top speed and scrambles off once they touch land to see Katara facing off squarely against Azula, Aang by her side and Toph a few paces behind.

There’s at least a dozen ice daggers hanging in the air around Katara, but Azula doesn’t even seem bothered. “Zuzu? Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I took you down once, Azula.” Katara’s voice is scarily level as Sokka slows to a stop beside Toph. “I can do it again. For the last time: where is Zuko?”

Azula doesn’t even bother to answer now, only throws her head back with a laugh, and Sokka can see Aang tensing up in preparation to redirect lightning–

–can see Toph twitch in something like surprise, opening her mouth to say something just as another voice roars: “Hold your fire!”

A grin spreads across Toph’s face even as Sokka turns, and there they are: Zuko supporting Suki as she limps up to them, both looking worse for wear but still safe.

Suki waves at them with her free hand, smile a little wan. “Hey. Sorry we’re late?”

.

.

v.

Sokka volunteers for first watch before anyone else can.

He’s only just gotten settled in when Zuko comes over to sit beside him, and if Zuko notices that this position conveniently lets Sokka keep a lookout while still being able to see Suki – screw it, okay, he hasn’t seen his girlfriend in ages and he’s missed her like hell.

They’d gotten the chance to talk earlier while Katara had been healing Suki’s twisted ankle, but even now that Sokka knows she’s okay, it’s still good to have the visual reminder.

Zuko doesn’t comment on it, though, so it’s up to Sokka to point out the obvious. “You can rest, y’know. Katara will wake you when it’s your turn.”

“In a while, maybe. I’m not sleepy yet.” Zuko shakes his head even as Sokka gives him (or more accurately the dark smudges beneath his eyes) a dubious look – but then again, none of them are strangers to being exhausted but sleepless, whether from adrenaline or something else. “Suki has been taking more than her share of night watches, anyway, she’s the one who really needs the rest.”

Sokka almost snorts but stops himself. Honestly he might’ve done the same, if he had been sharing a camp with Azula. “So how are things in Firetown?”

“Still standing when we left,” Zuko answers, which Sokka takes to mean possibly overrun and definitely on fire. “I gave the decree to open the imperial bunkers to anyone who needed shelter, right before the Fire Sages burst into the hall and demanded I immediately leave and seek out the Avatar to end this blight upon our world.”

Sokka raises an eyebrow. “That a direct quote?”

“Yeah. I don’t even think I’ve ever seen the Sages literally running, but apparently there’s a first time for everything.”

Like mostly-ending the war only for the walking dead to happen, Sokka’s pretty sure they’re both thinking. “Don’t suppose they might’ve mentioned what exactly Aang is supposed to do?”

“That would’ve been too easy,” Zuko says dryly, before sobering. “Aang hasn’t figured anything out?”

“He doesn’t even think there’s a spirit behind this.” Which had all sorts of disturbing implications that Sokka refuses to consider right now. “So Suki decided to come with you?”

Zuko doesn’t say anything about the blatant change of topic. “Insisted, more like.”

Sokka grins – that’s Suki, all right – before he looks over at the other addition to their group. “And Azula?” he asks quietly.

“She’s my sister. I–” Zuko scrubs a hand roughly over his face, shakes his head. “I couldn’t just leave her behind. She’s my sister.”

And if Sokka hadn’t already noticed how tired Zuko looks, that would’ve been clue enough. Yeah, they’ve all made their fair share of jokes about Zuko being a broken record about honour and capturing the Avatar way back when but really, he’s never been one to repeat himself. Sokka isn’t even sure Zuko realises that he’s doing it.

He takes a page from Toph’s book and punches Zuko on the shoulder. “Get some sleep, hotman,” he says over Zuko’s splutter. “We’ll still be here in the morning.”

“You better be,” Zuko grumbles as he heads off to bed, but when he flops down to sleep it’s right between Suki and anything that might come at them.

Sokka turns back away with a smile.

.

.

.

.

hell yeah sokka pov

also my other atla fics are here and here if you need a pick-me-up after that, i swear they’re actually like. my usual funny fare