#tied for second with four appearances each:

[cobbbvanth]

reblog and tell me which song has appeared the most times across your spotify wrapped years <3

[theresascove]

୧ ‧₊˚⋅ the nerd at the aquarium

🪼 aquarium worker!ellie williams x f!reader

you take your nephew to your city’s aquarium where you met her crouched next to your nephew after having run off in excitement

tw: not proofread, fluff, strangers to lovers, loser!ellie, modern!au, first kiss, holding hands

wc ✎ 1.3k • MASTERLIST • next part

Your sister handed him—your nephew—over, mouthing a thank you before leaving out the front door—heading into the car with her husband. With a four day trip, they needed someone to watch over their son. It was an easy set up, so you agreed and here you are now—your nephew held in your hands. He’s just over four years old, and honestly is really easy to babysit.

You set him down on the floor, crouching to hold onto his hands—eyes set on his, “hey, I got a fun plan for us today. Wanna hear?”

He was immediately a fan of the idea, no shocker there. Eyes sparkling at the idea of seeing the animals there. For you, it would be a field day—enjoying seeing the animals and spending time with him before coming back for bed. Your sister gave you money to use however you wish. The first payment was the entry tickets.

He had a grin on his face from where he sat in the backseat, feet kicking as he asked all sorts of questions. Unfortunately you only knew the answer to like three of them. You helped him out, walking with him towards the entrance where the spell of fish hit the both of you hard. His little nose scrunched and you were lying if you said yours didn’t either.

“Damn this smell,” you whisper, reaching into your bag for the tickets you printed earlier.

“Damn!”

“No,” you point at him, “nonono, don’t say that—especially around your mom.”

He moved on the second he saw what was behind the two front doors. If it weren’t for your hand holding onto his, he would’ve had ran away for sure.

“Oh my—yes I know but we gotta scan these tickets first, or else we’re like trespassing or some shit.”

“Shit?”

You smiled to the lady who scanned your tickets, avoiding the pointed look she gave you. It was fine.

“Don’t say that,” you walk him through, goosebumps appearing from the chill in the air once you were inside. The smell got worse, twenty times worse—but it was gorgeous inside. Dark and blue, light sea sounds playing from the speakers above. Your nephew was having a field day, jumping and dragging you towards the first thing.

“Buddy, buddy—that’s a cut out. We have to go up the stairs, can you come climb these with me?”

He does, but instead he jumps up each one. The start to the exhibits were general fish, smaller circular exhibits. He was captured by the sights, eyes darting around at each fish swimming by. You sit down to his height, looking at the exhibit before looking to him, “what fish is your favorite?”

“Nemo.”

Ah yeah, there lied the orange and black fish—swimming towards the bottom. He quickly moved onto the next, little feet moving fast and helping him reach the jellyfish. He kept putting his nose on each glass, and each time you reached a finger out to push him back just a little.

About forty minutes in, and what you had hoped wouldn’t happen did happen. It’s bound to—with an attention span so short and even shorter legs that keep him hidden in the crowds. He was lost. One second he was standing beside you, the next he ran back and through a gathered crowd.

“Shit,” you curse, spinning to stand and run in the direction he went. You shoved a little too roughly at a few people, but it was worth it to you in your mind. The calm orchestra music over the speakers was the opposite of how you felt, heart racing in your chest.

Turns out he thought each orange and black fish was a Nemo fish—because there he stood at another exhibit, staring at a larger orange fish. As you got closer, you saw the other figure beside him. Her eyes were just as bright as his, full of passion. Her hair was tied back, half-in-half—leaving bangs to hang in her face.

“Nemo,” he exclaimed, looking back to her.

She points lower, “that’s Nemo, but that—he’s a Butterflyfish.”

“Butterfly.”

Her attention shifts to you as you get closer, the light reflecting off the room brings attention to the details on her face—and wow…

“He yours?”

“Yes,” you back up, “well not mine, he’s my sister’s but I’m babysitting him, so mine sorta yeah.”

She has a comedic expression after listening to your terrible story, “uh huh, okay.”

It goes quiet for a second, filled with awkward silence. You sigh, “thank you for, keeping him here.”

She stands, and it brings attention to the name tag on her shirt, “no worries.”

“Oh shit you work here?”

“Shit!”

Your nephew repeats and, “Ellie,” as her name tag reads looks to you with the same pointed look the ticket scanning employee did. You wave her off.

“Well I wonder where he learned that.”

You cross your arms, “his mother.”

He gives you out, turning to point at you. Ellie huffs, “wow turns out he’s not on your side, a true opp.”

You grab a hold of his hand, crouching down again and resting your knees against the small step set in front of the aquarium for the kids.

“How long have you worked here?”

“Four years.”

“Damn, that’s a long—“

“Damn!”

Ellie laughs, and holy hell it’s glorious. You point at your nephew again, “please I beg don’t say that around your mom. It was a slip of the tongue.”

“How long is she gone?”

You shrug, “like four days, we’ll see.”

She hums, reaching back into her pocket, “well I have to go lead this like tour. It was nice to meet you both—but I gtg.”

It definitely wasn’t a coincidence when you showed up to the same aquarium a day later. There was a special guest exhibit too, you had a reason. It totally explained the way your eyes darted around looking for someone.

Turns out Ellie was at the exhibit, a stingray one. She was standing inside, explaining something to these parents. She did end up noticing you, eyes lighting up similarly to how they did the other day. Felt good to know she was also looking forward to seeing you again sometime.

“Ellie,” you call, and right after your nephew did.

“Elsa!”

You pick him up, “he’s leaning. How’s your shift?”

“It’s going, I’m glad to work a different section. Why’re you back?”

For you..?

“For the new exhibit, plus the discount—he loves this place too, it’s just fun.”

She nods, fidgeting with her name tag on her shit. For some reason everything in you just begged to be honest with her. Seems like she had the same idea, lips moving to speak just as you did.

“No you go,” you sound, adjusting your nephew on your hip.

“I, wow fuck. This is unprofessional as shit, but can I get your number?”

You smile and it brightens her face again, a shy grin appearing on hers.

“Yes, I’d love to.”

Turns out you’d be visiting the aquarium a lot more from now on. Your nephew tagged along often, but there were days you went alone—sitting in the larger exhibits after hours, Ellie rambling about random information on the animals swimming around behind the giant glass.

Took some time, but eventually your pinkies would connect—sliding to touch one another. Her rambling would eventually slow and her breathing would even out when she looked to see how you were looking at her.

She exhales, “what?”

“Nothing,” you say behind a smile, voice quieter than a whisper, “just want to kiss you.”

Her eyes flicker down, chest rising quicker as her mind fills with nerves of what’s to come. You’re doing the same, eyes focused on her as you inch closer. The sting music playing in the back growing louder when your lips connect. When they connect again, her fingers moves to encase yours, thumb rubbing softly over the back of your hand.

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter one ⭐︎ Waiting Room

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of death and injuries, mention of physical assault (physical fight), head injuries, mention of bruises and scars, mention of Eddie's almost death. pining. allusions to unrequited love. enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort. lots and lots of tension. slow burn. also, instead of writing summaries, I will name each chapter after a song that fits the vibe of each chapter. Also, mentioning this again, her nickname has nothing to do with her hair color.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 6.9k

Author's note: @hellfire--cult you know I will mention you in every chapter, so don't even try to fight me. Thanks for coming up with all these ideas with me mwah! — This is only the beginning, guys. This story will progress into something much more intense after chapter four or five, I can’t wait to share this one with you and get into the good and spicy stuff hehe!

Read the prologue first!

series masterlist ⭐︎ next chapter

♡

Your body was aching and everything inside of you was screaming at you to not open your eyes just yet, you felt as though you were being dragged out of it. All your limbs were hurting, your skin aching, your head was pounding. You could not begin to describe the pain even if you tried, it was unlike anything you had felt before. Your memory was lost, at least that’s what it felt like for the first few seconds. 

Then they started coming back slowly. 

From the gate in the water, to Steve being pulled under.

From the bats trying to bite chunks of his skin to you doing everything in your power to save him. 

From the creepy old Creel house, to Max offering herself as the bait. 

As pictures of her flashed in your mind, you suddenly started to register the smell – the disinfectant, the disgusting smell of hospital. You heard the beeping of the machines next to you, and you felt the wires attached to your body. 

You tried to press your lips together, though tears burned in your eyes when the crack in your lip stung. 

You moved your hand as you slowly opened your eyes to bright lights shining into the room you were in. You squinted them, trying to adjust to the light and the vision in front of you, it took you a moment, everything was still so blurry. 

From the corner of your eye, you could see a mop of dark curls. You slowly moved your head to the left side, restraining a groan when you felt a flash of pain in your head. You blinked a few times, taking in the sight of a bruised and battered Eddie, who was looking down at his rings, twisting and playing with them nervously. 

“Eddie?” You said and only then you felt how dry your throat had felt, how raspy your voice had sounded and how much it was aching. 

You did not notice the movement on your right side.

He straightened up as he lifted his head so suddenly, eyes wide as he looked into yours. Relief flashed his face and a smile appeared on his lips.

“Oh thank god.. Hi sweetheart.. slept well?” 

You stared at him for a good long minute, trying to figure out what had happened to him. By the developing scars on his face and the white bandage around his neck, you had an idea of what had gotten to him. 

Was he on the brink of death just like you had been? 

By the look in his eyes, you could tell that he was. 

“Huh… I’m not dead?” 

He shook his head, eyes filled with relief, “gladly no.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, “well, shucks,” you sighed, like you didn’t fight for your life back at the Creel house. 

Eddie sighed but chuckled, understanding your dark humor better than anyone else – despite only knowing you for a few days. 

A cough finally fell from your lips when you tried to sit up, though losing the strength to, you fell back again.

Eddie instantly reached for the water bottle on the table next to you, pouring some into the plastic cup before he carefully placed it into your hand, trying not to touch the bruises on your knuckles. 

You thanked him with a small smile before you lifted the cup to your lips with shaky hands. 

“Careful,” Eddie whispered as he watched you.

You nodded and closed your eyes as you took a sip of the water, welcoming the feeling of the coldness in your dry throat, you took a few sips before you handed him back the cup. 

“How long was I out?”

The sigh from your right side startled you a little, with furrowed brows, you turned to look only to be caught off guard. 

Steve Harrington.

With his arms crossed, he stood by the window, staring at you with an unreadable look on his face. He took you in, eyes glaring at the wounds on your skin. 

“You had to have surgery. There–... There was a deep concussion in your head and a vessel popped. If they didn’t do it quickly you..” He could not bring himself to finish that sentence, he clenched his jaw and looked down at his hands. 

Your heart fluttered at the sight of him. 

Even in this current state, you could not help but smirk cheekily, though it dropped the moment it appeared when you suddenly could feel all the bruises on your face. Your eyes watered and a wince fell from your lips. 

Steve lifted his head at the sound. 

And Eddie straightened up. 

“Don’t move your face too much, sweets.. It’s…” He stopped as he felt anger and sadness hit him all at once. 

He did not want to tell you how bad it really was – how your skin was bruised, how puffy your eyes were. 

You closed your eyes again and laid your head back. 

“Ah, he got me good, didn’t he?” 

Steve swallowed harshly. 

He pushed away the pain from seeing you like this and cleared his throat. He licked his lips and leaned closer. 

“Yeah, but you got him better.” 

You frowned at his words, not quite understanding. 

Eddie glared at him, not knowing how you would take the news so soon. 

“Huh?”

Steve ignored the look in Eddie’s eyes, he kept his on you. 

“Jason’s dead. He fell onto broken wood… that impaled him.”

Oh. 

Flashes of the night came in a blur. 

The fight. 

His rough hands as he hit you, over and over again, as he held you down and wrapped his merciless fingers around your throat, aiming for the kill. 

You felt your heart beating a little faster at the memory, how scared you were when he pointed a gun at Lucas before you stepped in between them, knowing that he could have shot you, right then and there. How much it hurt when he sliced your cheek open with the stupid ring on his finger as he delivered the first punch, how close to death you were when he choked you. You saw the look in his eyes, the rage, as he called you a traitor for protecting ‘the killer’ of your friend. Tears of frustration and anger fell from your eyes when you almost lost the fight – Lucas’s screams as he called out to Max urged you to fight back, and you did, you used every last bit of your strength to throw him off of you and pushed him away. 

Pushed him into his death. 

You do not feel bad. – Max could have died because of him. He would have killed Lucas. He wanted to kill you. 

“Good,” you murmured as you blinked the tears away that formed in your eyes again, “he was going to kill the kids.. He had a gun.. He had a gun, Steve.”

It was almost weird to hear you call him by his name. 

He instantly rushed to your side and reached for your hand, something that neither of you would ever think back to again. 

“Yeah, and you saved them. Listen, you can’t talk much, you need to heal, Blondie.”

Right. The ache in your neck was not from the lack of water, it was from the bruises, from almost being strangled to death.

“Everything else is being taken care of,” he said as he squeezed your hand. 

You ignored the feeling in your chest and turned to look at Eddie. 

“And you?” 

“Well, you are looking at a free man! A free man that was targeted by Victor Creel himself after he got out of Pennhurst. I trespassed into his home many times and he had a vendetta against me or some shit.”

You felt relief rushing through you. 

Though, you saw the hurt behind his eyes, knowing he had to lie about seeing Creel killing Chrissy. 

He did not want to put the blame on somebody else, he knew what it had felt like to be accused of something he hadn’t done – but there was no other option, he had no choice, he wasn’t given one. People of power had told him what to do. In return, he got his name cleared and had been given a good amount of money for ‘the troubles’. Money that he could live off from for the rest of his life.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Eddie.” 

He smiled at your words, nodding. 

“What happened to you?” 

He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Steve. 

“He played hero when he shouldn’t have.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes at him. 

Hero. There wasn’t only one hero that night. 

Almost in panic, you straightened up. 

“Where’s Max?” 

Steve put his hand on yours again, giving it a pat as he tried to calm you down, though all he gave you was shivers running down your spine from his touch. 

“Healing. He broke one arm and one leg, but she is awake. Robin is with her, she’s been waiting for you to wake up.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, the weight in your shoulders fell just like that. You felt like crying, but you wouldn’t do it here, in front of them. 

“And everyone else?”

You took in the sight of him, properly this time. 

There were dark circles beneath his eyes, tiredness in his face.

You didn’t know what prompted you to do this, maybe it was the high anesthetic in your system or a spur of the moment – but you lifted your hand, reached out to him to graze your fingertips against his neck, on the mark where the tail of a demobat almost strangled him. 

He did not pull away, but he stared at you with wide eyes, blushing at your action.  

“I-I’m fine.. Everyone else is too,” he said and cleared his throat. 

A scoff on your left pulled you back and you removed your hand from Steve’s neck to look over at Eddie. 

“Speak for yourself, I have like forty stitches all over my body.”

How he managed to joke about that while he was still in so much pain? You did not know. But then again, you were just the same. 

He spared you the details when he began to talk about what happened in the upside down. Steve did not want to revive the story again, seemingly not handling the thought of his new friend dying so cruelly. He left and told you that he’d come back later. 

As Eddie was telling you about the swarm of bats, you felt the pain in your chest, just like when you had found out about Chrissy, just like when you had found out about him. 

Eddie was a new addition to your life, you two are barely even friends, though you do not know how you would handle the news of him not making it. 

“I’m happy you’re here.”

Eddie’s eyes softened, though a smirk tugged at his lips. 

“Going soft on me now, sweets?” He chuckled, surprised to hear such words from you. “Or are you still on drugs? Where’s the little ol’ meanie, I kinda liked her.” 

A pained chuckle fell from your lips. 

“She’ll be back in no time, don’t you worry.”

Your laughter died down when you thought of the way he looked at you. 

Judging by all the pain you were still feeling, you knew that you looked awful. 

“How bad do I look? Be honest, please.”

Eddie shook his head with a pained look on his face. He looked down for a moment. His eyes flashed with anger and sadness. 

“Bad, sweetheart. When we found out that Jason did this to you.. We wanted to revive him only to kill him again,” he said angrily. “Steve wanted to rip his corpse apart, that’s what Robin told me.”

For a moment, you felt cheerful and your eyes had softened. 

For a moment you had thought that he cared. 

But Eddie quickly pulled you back into reality after shattering that illusion. 

“He saw what he did to Lucas, it’s not as bad as you but.. fuck. He was going to kill Max too.”

Steve was angry at Jason because of the teens, not because of what he did to you, never because of you. He wouldn’t have cared if you bleed out on the ground in the Creel house. He wouldn’t have cared if you died. 

You focused on Eddie, on the anger in his features – it made your eyes soften, knowing that you found another friend, one that you should probably protect from the curse that you are. 

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I can walk now..”

You frown, tilting your head at him before you look down at yourself. 

“How long have I been out?” You asked when you realized that Steve had never answered your question. 

“You’ve been out for a whole week, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened, you dug your hands into the mattress and pushed yourself up. 

“Whoa, whoa!” Eddie raised his hands as he tried to stop you from sitting up. 

“W-What, oh my god, my sister must be worried!” 

He put his hand on your arm, gently – you had noticed it before, how careful he had been to touch you, like he was afraid of hurting you, like you were something fragile. 

“Yeah, about that–” He never got to finish his sentence as the door burst open and your sister stormed inside the room. 

Your eyes widened at the sight of her, not because you were surprised or confused to see her here, but because it’s been two months since you had last seen her. Besides the concerned look on her face, she was glowing – maybe it was the pregnancy or maybe it was just the fact that she has been much happier since leaving Hawkins behind. 

“Hi hi, honey! Are you okay?” 

That day she had the same concern in her voice as she does now while she talks your ear off about how important it is to go to all your checkups at the Hospital. She is calling every day, just to remind you – and to check on you. 

You are fine. Just fine. 

You survived an attack, you survived surgery, you survived. You made a good recovery and you are getting better each day. Besides, Eddie and Max are on your back about the check-ups just as much, you have no choice but to go to them. 

You’re holding the telephone between your ear and your shoulder as you finish touching up your make up, applying some gloss to your lips before you pick up the brush one more time and carefully go through your hair, trying not to hurt yourself, your head starts hurting at every slightest touch and it’s beginning to frustrate you. 

“I’m telling you, this baby is going to be a little runner.” 

“Is she still kicking?” 

Your sister huffs before she laughs, “she is kicking all the time, sis.”

You smile as you take the telephone and walk towards your window, leaning against the wall as you wait for the Impala to pull up in your driveway. 

“I can’t wait to meet her. I never held a baby before.”

“Well, you’re about to – give it a few more weeks and you’ll turn into an auntie in no time.”

“I am already an auntie,” you chuckle. “How could you forget little Luna? She was your first child.” 

You remember how devastated you were when she took the black cat with her as she moved out of your parents house and left the town, for good. You begged her to leave the cat with you, put on your best puppy face but she wouldn’t have it, it was her cat, after all. 

“Right, sorry sorry.” She laughs. 

You hear rustling in the back and a moment later, a loud crunch sounds through the phone. You don’t have to ask to know what she’s eating. Chips. She is always eating salted chips, now even more so than before. 

“What are you doing today?” She asks with a mouthful. 

Looking down at your outfit, you place your palm on your new denim shorts before you slide your fingers into the pocket. 

“I’m going to a barbecue in a few,” you say. “Max basically forced me to come.”

“Wait, you’re not driving yourself, are you?”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head as a huff falls from your lips. 

You’re not allowed to drive, not yet. Your vision gets blurry sometimes, and you get light headed very easily. Your doctor said that it would pass, but it’s been two weeks since you had been released from the hospital and it hasn’t passed yet. 

Jason truly did a number on you. 

“No, don’t worry. My friends would kill me if I even tried–”

“Don’t say that word,” she cuts you off with a stern voice. “But I agree with them.”

You snort. 

“Anyways, Eddie is picking me up.”

Silence follows for a good thirty seconds before she continues eating her chips. You can practically hear her thoughts, you already know what she’s about to say next. 

“Eddie. He was the cute one with the long hair, right?” She asks, innocently. “The one who brought you chocolate and magazines?” 

Rolling your eyes at her teasing voice, you push yourself away from the wall when you see the black Impala pulling up to your house. 

“Don’t even,” you sigh, scrunching up your face in annoyance. 

She has been waiting, waiting for years for you to finally have a crush on someone, to fall in love, go on dates and get a boyfriend. 

Though, unlike her, you weren’t exactly popular – maybe it was your own fault, but that’s beside the point. Your sister loved having crushes and going on dates. She loved falling in love. 

You? Not so much. 

Love has only brought you pain. 

And you never cared much for dating – not even for fun. You don’t mind being on your own, loving someone from afar and in secret, for probably the rest of your life. 

“What’s wrong with him? Isn’t he super sweet?” She asks. “He brought you chocolate, sat by your side and you seem to like him–”

“Yeah, as a friend.” 

“Oh,” she sighs, humming. “Yeah, you never liked the nice guys, did you?” 

She got you there. Well, kind of. He is nice. He is nice to everyone, but to you. 

“What about the other guy then? What was his name again… Steve?” 

Just the mention of his name has shivers running down your spine, your heart fluttering and your skin crawling in tingles. 

You feel your cheeks glowing but you roll your eyes at the stupid giddiness that you feel, everytime you think of him.

“Mhmm, Steve.” 

“Huh.” You could practically hear the smirk in her voice. “What about him?”

If she only knew. 

Eddie honks the car horn, giving you the perfect excuse to hang up the phone. You walk back to your dresser, putting the phone down. 

“Anyways, I love you, sis. But a very hungry Eddie is waiting for me in the driveway.”

You know that he is hungry, he is always hungry, always eating away all the snacks and stealing leftover fries from everyone’s plates, no matter how much he had eaten already.

“Have fun with uh Steve! Love you, mwah, bye!”

You roll your eyes once again as you hang up the phone. 

Steve and Fun in one sentence just doesn’t sound right. That guy would rather stay miserable for the rest of his life than even try to have fun with you. 

He can’t stand you. 

And well, you can’t stand him either. – At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself, all while knowing that it’s very much a lie, but how else would you stay sane?

You quickly make your way down the stairs, reaching for your keys and your sunglasses on the way out. You skip down the porch steps. You tap the hood of his car before you get into the passenger seat. 

Eddie is already grinning at you, waving his fingers at you. 

“Hey sexy.” 

His brows shoot up and a smirk tugs at his lips. He playfully eyes you up and down. 

You close the door and sit back, greeting him with a mocking smirk. 

“Hello to you too, sweets,” he says in a low and deep voice – one that almost has you laughing. 

“Oh, I wasn’t greeting you,” you say, nonchalantly. “I was talking to Arwen,” you gesture to his beloved, new car, that he of course named after a Lord of the rings character. 

“But, hi Eddie.”

A loud laugh leaves his lips, his brown eyes twinkle with amusement. He grabs the gearstick, shaking his head at you. 

“You ready for some heavy metal heaven?” 

You put on your sunglasses and fasten the seatbelt after he points at you with a stern look on his face. 

“Sure,” you snort, knowing that the drive to the Sinclair house will be anything but uneventful. When Eddie isn’t singing and bobbing his head to the music, he’s shouting over it, telling you a story that he can’t wait to get off his chest. 

Your friendship with him is something you didn’t see coming. You tried to push him away, knowing how your friendships with people you care about usually end, but he wouldn’t have it. He kept coming back, just like Robin, just like the teens. 

You don’t understand why. 

What’s there about you that they want you around so bad? 

You’re never in a happy mood, you’re never entertaining, you don’t bring anything into the friend group. You don’t get along with most people – by most people you only mean Steve Harrington. 

You wonder if it’s because you almost died and they’d feel guilty to exclude you after helping them or if Max forces them to accept you into a friend group you never even wanted to be part of. 

“How’s your head doing?” Eddie asks as he drives on Maple Street. 

“Good, s’not hurting anymore.” You lie. 

He knows. 

Eddie sees the way you react to bright lights, the way you scrunch up your nose a little whenever the sun shines into your eyes or the way you rest your hand against the nearest wall when you seem to get dizzy. 

“When’s your next check-up?” 

He sounds just as concerned as your sister does, it makes you laugh a little. 

Who would have thought that Eddie could be so caring? 

“Tomorrow, 3pm.”

“Want me to drive you?”

You shake your head, “no, it’s fine. I’ll take the bus.”

He scoffs, shooting you a glare as he pulls up into the driveway, parking his car behind the burgundy BMW. 

“You think I’ll let you take the bus? I’ll drive you and then we’ll get burgers.” 

You unbuckle your seatbelt, chuckling as you turn to him, “okay, dad.” 

“Shut up,” he grumbles at you with a glare. 

Laughing at the look on his face, you get out of the car and make your way over to the house. Eddie bumps his shoulder into yours, tilting his head down, he looks at your heart shaped sunglasses. 

“Where’d you get these?” He asks, pointing at them. 

“Macy’s, why? You want some too?” 

“What if I do?” He asks, ringing the doorbell. 

“Then we’ll get you some pink ones.” 

A smirk tugs at his lips, “hell yeah.” 

Robin opens the door with an excited smile on her face, grinning when she sees you. 

“Hi!” She beams at you. “Come on in.” She steps aside, lifting her arm as she waits for you both to step inside. 

You walk in first, and as you do, Robin pulls you into a hug, greeting you once more. 

“Hey,” you mumble as you slowly lift your arms to hug her back. 

Eddie chuckles at the confused frown on your face, he follows inside and closes the door. 

“C’mon, Steve is already bitching about you two being late.” 

And just like that, your heart jumps a little. You hate yourself a little in these moments. 

Pushing your sunglasses up on your head, you and Eddie follow her out into the garden. 

You can hear the music outside, laughter and Steve’s stern voice as he scolds Dustin, as always. The smell of smoke lingers in the air and as you step outside, you catch sight of Steve, standing behind the grill, with one hand on his hip and the other pointing at Dustin with the grill tong. 

His hair is messy, a spit curl falling before his eyes. He is wearing his black sunglasses, green khaki pants, a gray tank top,– oh god. This is going to be a long day. 

You swallow as you tear your eyes away from him, looking around with squinted eyes, the sun is harsh and you instantly put your sunglasses back on.

“Are the Sinclair’s around?” You ask, meaning Lucas’s and Erica’s parents. 

Robin shakes her head, “no, they’re out in Indianapolis until tomorrow, Steve is probably gonna stay the night.”

You nod. 

You hear your name being called and you turn to your right to see Lucas waving at you with a smile on his face. He is sitting on the lounger Max is laying on, still with casts on her leg and her arm. She pushes herself up on her elbows, looking in your direction, a smile appears on her face and she greets you just as kindly as her boyfriend did. 

Robin leaves your side, walking towards Dustin who plays with his new, portable Stereo. 

As you pass by Steve, he turns around to greet Eddie with a smile and you with nothing more than a nod and low grumble, “Blondie.” 

Whenever he seems moody or pissed off, you feel the urge to make it even worse. And you do, every single time. 

You walk around him and look at the meat on the grill, whining.

“I don’t eat meat.”

He turns to you, eyes growing wide at your words. He didn’t know. And he already feels guilty for not asking you first. He pushes his sunglasses up into his hair as an apologetic look crosses his face. 

“Fuck… I-I didn’t know–” he stops when he notices the smug look on your face and hears Eddie chuckle over his shoulder. 

He should’ve known. 

With a groan, he rolls his eyes and pushes his sunglasses back down as he turns back to the grill. 

“Hey Eddie!” Dustin calls out to him, already grinning at Steve. “Check this out!” 

“Don’t you dare, Dustin–” Robin gets cut off by a scream as it blasts from the stereo. She smacks him lightly on his head, yelling at him to turn it off. 

Eddie laughs loudly, leaving yours and Steve’s side. 

“Jesus christ,” Steve mumbles, scrunching his face up at the music. “That shrimp has been doing that all day. Eddie really is a bad influence.” 

“Aw, poor Steve,” you pout at him, “are you mad that you can’t listen to Madonna?” 

He scoffs at you, though he doesn’t say anything and focuses on the sizzling burgers as he turns them over. 

You press your lips together, ignoring the tugging in your chest or the feeling in your stomach as you use his distraction to look at him. 

It’s only nearing the end of April, but it already feels like the beginning of summer. Steve’s skin is already sun kissed. You hide your eyes behind your sunglasses as you ogle him. Taking in the sight of his veiny hands, his arms that have just the perfect amount of muscle, his chest hair that you always tease him for, the silver chain around his neck. 

You swallow. 

Cursing inwardly when you feel your stomach fluttering. 

He turns to face you again, totally catching you and your staring. 

Fuck. 

“Like what you see?” He smirks down at you. 

You bite the inside of your cheeks, trying not to blush under his gaze. 

He is feeling smug. Not because he likes you staring at him, but because he’s been waiting for a moment to embarrass you with something. 

He expects you to stutter, to step back and answer his question with a shaky and squeaky voice, because that is what he must be used to, but you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You take a step closer to him, biting your lip as you eye him up and down. 

You can tell that it catches him off guard a little, but unlike you, he isn’t blushing. 

“Yeah, actually,” you whisper and put your hand on his shoulder as you lean closer to the small table where he left his coke. You wrap your hand around the can, it’s cold against your palm and you hum in satisfaction as you raise it up to your lips, taking a sip of his drink. “Mmmh, perfect.” 

You turn around, and walk away without another word, leaving him huffing and glaring at you. 

You fail to notice or feel his eyes on you, the way they rake down your body, the way he licks his lips before he forces his eyes away from you. 

You greet Lucas and Max properly, hugging the latter before you take a seat on the lounger next to her, choosing the one that is half in the shadow, so you can hide your face from the sun. 

You easily fall into a conversation with the teens. You had always been close with Max, even before you were dragged into all of this. 

Being friends with her, also brought Lucas into your life. Unlike Dustin, who is always somehow trying to get on your nerves by teasing you with crushes that don’t exist or annoying you like a younger brother would do, Lucas is always very kind. 

“I can’t wait for you to get your car back.” 

Chuckling at Lucas’s words, you take off your sunglasses and put them down beside you. 

“Why’s that?” 

“So you can drive us around again,” he shrugs as he flashes you a smile. 

“Are Steve and Eddie not good enough for you?” You snort. 

Max scoffs loudly, rolling her eyes as she turns to you. 

“Steve is always whining about something!” 

“Yeah, and Eddie drives like a maniac,” Lucas groans, throwing his hands up. 

Max purses her lips, looking down at her cast. 

“Yeah, like your girlfriend,” you laugh, glancing at Lucas. “I wonder who will teach her how to drive properly.” 

“First of all, I don’t drive like a maniac,” says Max. “Second, why don’t you teach me how to drive?” 

You raise your brows at her, shaking your head, “sorry girl, but I am not a good teacher.” 

“But you’re like a big sister to me, you’re supposed to teach me,” she teases, though she looks at you with her best puppy eyes. “Besides, we can take Billy’s car.”

Shaking your head at her, you lay your head back and close your eyes, “don’t even try, Max. We’ll both end up in a ditch, we barely made it out last time.” 

She snorts at your words while Lucas looks between the two of you with disapproval on his face. 

“I’m starting to think that neither of you should ever drive again.” 

“I actually agree with you,” Robin chimes in as she joins the three of you. “I’ve heard of Max’s driving skills and uh… you lady,” she points at you, moving your legs to the side as she takes a seat on your lounder, “are danger in person.” 

“Me?” You gasp, putting your hand on your chest. 

“Yeah, you!” 

Steve watches you from afar, ignoring the heavy metal music and the curly heads behind him, who are going crazy over a song he just can’t find a liking to. 

He watches you – the way you crack a smile and shake your head with an amused look on your face. 

He watches you talk to the teens and to his best friend, easily falling into conversations. He rarely sees you like this – smiling and carefree. You’re usually always tense, annoyed and wearing a permanent frown on your face. Mostly around him. 

Steve will never know what it’s like to have a normal conversation with you, to see you smiling at him, not in a teasing way, in a real way. He is not sure if he ever even saw a real smile on your face – not even the one you are wearing now is real. 

But, why does he even care? You two have never gotten along, you hated each other, at first glance. 

With a sigh, he turns off the grill. He carries the tray filled with food over to where everyone is sitting, motioning for Eddie and Dustin to follow. 

Steve walks past you, not paying attention to how close he is to you, he accidentally bumps you in the head with the corner of the tray. He doesn’t even notice that he did – not until, you duck your head down and raise your hand to touch the side of your head. 

Max snaps her head up at him with a glare on her face. Lucas freezes when he sees how angry she is. 

He looks down at you, to see you looking up at him already. 

“I’m sorry..” He murmurs. 

You don’t speak, instead you look up at him with big eyes and a pained look on your face. 

“Oh come on, I barely even touched you,” he says, nervously. 

Eddie and Robin glance at each other, confused and worried. 

He rolls his eyes at you, knowing that this is another one of your little games that you always play, whenever you get bored. 

“Are you fucking with me again?”

Max shoots out of her seat, almost falling over due to the cast on her leg, her cheeks grow red in anger as her eyes burn into Steve. 

“Her head! You hit her head, you stupid idiot!” She points at him with rage in her voice. 

Steve’s eyes widen as deep guilt rushes through him, he instantly drops the tray on the table before he crouches down in front of you, shakily laying his palm on your shoulder as Max continues to curse at him. 

He wasn’t thinking. He didn’t think of that. 

“S-Shit,” he mumbles, looking at you apologetically. 

How could he forget? The doctor told you how sensitive you would be at every slightest touch to your head, how every slightest bump could cause nausea, dizziness or even a migraine. He was there, he heard him say it loud and clearly, yet he forgot.

Only now does he notice the hurt in your eyes as you place your palm over your ear – your ear that is ringing, for a moment it feels as though you’ve been pulled under water, and still you hear Max yelling at Steve. 

It’s not his fault, it was an accident. 

“Max! It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t do it on purpose! J-Just fuck…” You curse at the pain, not even recognizing your own voice for a moment. Who would’ve thought that you would be this sensitive? You feel his hand on your shoulder, maybe it eases the pain a little, or maybe it’s just the comfort that you feel from only his touch. 

“I-I’m gonna get you some ice,” Steve mumbles and rushes into the house, with Eddie following close behind. 

He throws his sunglasses on the counter and huffs in frustration as he tugs at his hair. He opens the freezer and gets an ice pack out. 

“Steve–”

“Fuck, Eddie. I didn’t know, I thought she was fucking with me again,” he stammers, wrapping the icepack into a cloth. “She always does this a-and I wasn’t thinking of the fucking injury.”

Steve is cursing at himself and at Jason who caused all of this, who did this to you. 

Eddie takes a step closer to him, placing his hand on his shoulder, trying to calm his friend down. 

“Steve,” he sighs but he won’t look at him. “You didn’t know, i-it’s just a migraine, nothing else–”

“Nothing else?” Steve scoffs, frowning at Eddie. 

How could this be nothing else? He caused you pain with the slightest touch, something that reminded you of what you had been through, only a few weeks back. And he might have just triggered even more than a migraine, he might have triggered some thoughts to come back that you tried to not think of. 

He rushes back out to you. 

When you see him, you are already reaching for the ice pack, waving your hand at him to give it to you but he pulls it back, not handing it to you. 

You huff in annoyance, looking at him in disbelief. 

Max is standing with a hand on her hip, extending her arm as well as she glares at him in annoyance. 

Lucas and Dustin glance at each other, like they are afraid to move or even say anything as they quietly eat their food. 

“Lego head, give me the ice pack–”

He startles you a little by sitting down right behind you, “where do I press?” He asks. 

You’re taken aback by his words and his action, you’re taken aback by his touch. 

“Huh?”

“Where do I press the ice pack?” He asks again, breathing down your neck. 

You glance up at Max, she raises her eyebrows at you. Normally, she is the one who helps you, sometimes it’s Eddie or Robin, but Steve? Steve never helped you. 

She eyes Steve and the look in his eyes, the guilt and the pain from hurting someone when normally, he tries to do everything in his power to protect people, even the ones that he doesn’t like. 

With a sigh, she slowly sits down. 

Despite the pain that is pulsating in your head, you feel shivers running down your spine when Steve moves your hair to the side, his fingertips grazing your skin. 

“Where?”

“I uh–... here,” you mumble, quietly as you point to the spot where it hurts the most. 

“Okay,” he whispers and scoots even closer to you, he presses the ice pack against the back of your head. 

You sigh and relax a little, closing your eyes as you welcome the coldness. 

Your heart flutters in your chest when he presses his free hand on your shoulder, touching you gently. 

“Max, you should eat something,” Robin says, trying to smile at the angry teen. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna heal faster if you eat a burger,” Eddie grins, trying to ease the tension as he hands her the plate. 

“A burger will help me heal, really?” She scrunches her face up but grabs the plate, nonetheless. 

“Yeah, actually. It’ll give you some of the strength back,” Dustin winks at her before he takes a bite of his burger. 

She snorts, shaking her head at them. 

You listen to your friends chatter as you keep your eyes closed. Tilting your head to the side, you lean back slightly, – wishing you could just lean into him. You can sense how tense he is, you are almost certain that you can hear his thoughts, how he is cursing at himself for this, for hurting someone – even if it’s just you. 

“Stop stressing about it, Harrington. It’s nothing,” you sigh, trying to ease some of his tension. 

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head, “You and Eddie, I swear if you keep saying this is nothing..” He huffs in frustration. 

Not only does he hate all of this – he also hates the feeling of your soft skin beneath his touch, the smell of your perfume, the smell of your body wash that he is close enough to smell – and fuck, does it smell good, good enough to make his stomach feel all weird again. 

You try to chuckle, though he can tell that it’s pained. 

“What, you worried about me, Lego head? Thought I didn’t affect your life at all?” You ask smugly, as though it’s a joke to you. 

Your words feel like a punch to his gut, even though he was the one who said these words to you, it hurts for some reason, because maybe, these words aren’t true in the slightest. 

You might not be someone important to him, you might not be special to him. 

Yet it doesn’t change the feeling he had felt in his gut when he found out that you were on the brink of death, that night. When he saw you in the hospital room hours after your surgery, how lost and empty he had felt when he saw the state you were in. How he sat beside you for hours before the nurses finally kicked him out and told him to go home and rest. 

He clenches his jaw.

“Yes, I’m worried,” he huffs. “So shut up because you will make it worse, Blondie.” He says with full expectation to hear some smartass comment back from you. 

But you stay quiet, fully quiet. 

You open your eyes and you look down at your hands in sadness. 

You wish he didn’t say that to you. You wish he kept the hate comments instead, that he left you with the idea of hating you completely, not showing an ounce of worry towards you. Because this is ruining you. The act of kindness is completely destroying you, and he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t feel it either. 

You really are hopeless. 

>> next chapter

[pearlywritings]

In father's embrace

synopsis: Genshin men as dads and what your family dynamic is like.

pairings: Ayato, Thoma, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Tighnari x fem!reader (separately)

tw: fluff, established relationship, mentions of pregnancy

word count: 7.2k words

a/n: I really wanted to write Diluc and Kaeya, but realized that I can't create something new since I already have a family AU with them. Here's the materlist's link if you are interested! Also you can find the HSR version of this here!

Ayato 

This man is a dad of twins - a boy and a girl. Both babies took more in their mom’s appearance, but have his soft violet eyes and honestly? This man adores you, his wife, so when he sees your kids develop more and more of your features as they grow - his heart can’t be fuller.

He is a fun and patient dad - he will teach them anything they ask him to, and offer guidance, yet still leaving space for them to learn some on their own. He also enjoys when they sneak into his study during his working hours (because mom decided to take a nap, and Thoma went out grocery shopping, and they are so-so boooooored), letting them wander around the room for the nth time, touching all the trophies and scrolls he has there (all the things that could be of danger were long removed), and when they eventually feel sleepy, crawl closer to him to nap, resting their heads on his thighs while he stays in his kneeling position, writing.

Even if they look a lot like you, it’s so easy to tell that they are his kids - the mischief babbling in their little bodies is untamable for the longest time, and Ayato loves it. Sure, sometimes it is a headache, and mostly for you, but at least they didn’t develop strange tastes in food like their father. More than once they used their similar looks to play pranks on the staff members or their parents, dressing in each other’s clothes and going about their day like that. What does their father think of it? Two words - “promising” and “entertaining”.

They are also their aunt’s absolute delight. Ayaka adores them, showering the two with gifts and attention. And even though she and Ayato are not twins like her niece and nephew - she still feels warmly nostalgic whenever she witnesses their interactions.

Best aunt - thanks to her Vision the twins experienced the joy of ice skating, lessons of etiquette became more fun (though still effective), more days off were granted to her brother to spend time with his family (she practically started stealing his paperwork at some point to fulfill it on her own). She and Thoma are making your life so much easier and for the first time Ayato truly feels at peace and like he is living his life at its fullest. The quiet rooms of the Kamisato Estate are finally filled with joyous laughter and summer warm happiness - his kids are bringing back the light to the gloomily strict atmosphere of the family house.

But sometimes the two only add the workload to his plate in the most wild ways possible.

Ayato closely observes one of his kids - presumably the son - as both the parent and the child are sitting in the room dedicated to the twins’ studying. They have the best tutors Inazuma could provide and both showed exceptional results in all their classes. Even if one of them failed an examination on the first try - the second one was always a success. That was until you walked in on your daughter rewriting her history test, only to discover your son in her place, with his sister’s clothes and blue locks tied in her manner. And that’s when the truth came to light.

Honestly it was no surprise their teachers never suspected anything - only four people could tell the twins apart easily - you, Ayato, Ayaka and Thoma, though the latter had trouble with that occasionally, and your children made sure to speak as similar as possible once the idea of replacing each other appeared. Of which you also learned that day Ayato and you sat them down and urged to tell you everything. The scolding about cheating from you and a lecture from Ayato on the topic of how important it is to do as good as you can on your own were provided, but in the end you just hugged them and said that you do not expect them to be perfect in everything, which left the kids relieved.

But from then on Ayato has been in charge of supervising the twins during their exam retakes. Just like today.

“Public diplomacy, national security, diplomatic etiquette, hm…” the head of the Kamisato clan skips across the paper with questions the tutor gave him beforehand on the latest topic of international relationships. He notices how his child doesn’t fidget and doesn’t even let the eyes run across the room - the straight posture and neutral expression etched on a thirteen-year old’s face is admirable. But he does note the uncharacteristic stiffness. Along with another major thing.

“Princess, where is your brother?”

Eyes widen slightly, but that’s enough to prove that he is correct. He watches his daughter hesitate for a moment, though there is no doubt in his mind that neither of his children would ever lie to him or their mother. And the defeated sigh shows as much.

“Sorry, father,” the girl lowers her gaze in apology. Fishing a hairpin from behind her brother’s kimono lapel, she makes quick work of collecting her hair. Then she looks into his eyes again.

“He is in my room, pretending to be me and probably stressing. Before you ask why we decided to switch - he begged me to.” “Oh?” Ayato puts the papers to the side and rests his chin on an open palm. “Could you please elaborate?” “Remember how we went to the Kujo residence for a playdate?” Her father hums, already getting a vague understanding of what’s going on. “And when we accidentally overheard how the oldest son was being scolded by his father for not doing enough in his studies. And brother got it into his head that if he keeps failing not once but more times, you are going to be disappointed in him. I know he studied for this retake, I helped him with that, but at the last moment he got anxious, and, well, here I am. Like all those years ago.”

“I see,” the man in front of her nods, and she doesn’t see any negative emotion painted on his face. Quite the contrary, he smiles.

“Be a dear, go get your brother and come back together. Change the clothes though. Oh, and tell him I am not mad, okay?” “Okay, father,” she mirrors his smile and relief flashes in her eyes - the girl truly cares for her twin, and that warms Ayato’s heart.

When half an hour later both arrive there is already a table served with tea and sweets, and the head of the Kamisato family immediately invites them to take their seats. His daughter looks calm, which can’t be said about his son - the boy has the most miserable look on his face, holding onto his sister’s hand and staring at the surface of the tea in his cup. Ayato decides to speak first.

“Kujo family is the last people one should take as an example,” his firm, yet reassuring tone makes his son glance at him. “Sure, they are respected, but their methods are too old-fashioned, and the way they treat their children is no good. Do you understand, little blossoms?”

They nod and even if Ayato doesn’t see it, he knows they squeeze each other’s hand.

“You better do, because neither me nor your mother will ever push you to the point of devastation. In studies as well,” the boy bites his lip. “I am serious. I will not be disappointed in either of you if you have to retake one test again and again. Striking for perfection is a good goal, but not when you torture yourself physically and emotionally to achieve it.”

“But father…” his son lifts his eyes and stares right into Ayato’s and it shoots right through his chest how vulnerable the kid looks. “You are perfect. And I don’t want to let you down…” “Me? Perfect? Oh, dear,” the man can’t hold a light laugh back. “Ask your mother and she’ll prove you so wrong, trust me. And none of you is letting me down - you should be proud of yourselves. At such young age you both show bright talents and knowledge - and it’s okay if it’s not the case for every possible field of studies. This is general education, later you’ll get more practice to catch up, or concentrate on your strongest abilities. Listen,” he addresses his son specifically, and the boy cocks his head to the side a little, “be more confident and trust your sister if she insists you are doing well. Don’t be afraid to ask questions and come to me if you feel unsure, alright?”

The boy glances down, letting the words sink in, and Ayato patiently waits. In his mind he admits that it's his oversight - he should've noticed earlier that one of his kids has been struggling. Now he will make sure to change that.

Eventually his son deeply sighs and looks at the adult in front of him with trust reflecting in those pretty eyes.

“Alright,” he nods with a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. Slowly standing up and letting go of his twin’s hand, he rounds the table and steps right into Ayato’s outstretched arms, wrapping his own around the man’s neck.

“Thank you, father,” he whispers right before burying his face into haori-clad shoulder. “I love you so much.”

And the man smiles, whispering those words back and soothingly patting his back, as the daughter shows him thumbs up with the tenderest look in her eyes.

Thoma

This man is such a sweet dad - nearly cried, when your first child, a girl, was delivered. Same was when a couple years later the son was born too.

Juggling his work and caring for his kids was never an issue for him. A big part of it was played by the Kamisato couple, who allowed him to bring first his daughter and then his son to work, when each of them was old enough. Which, most likely, was what prompted the Kamisatos to have their own kids - one day years ago you and Thoma wanted to have a date night - one you haven't had in a while - and Ayato's wife offered to watch your little baby girl. Does it need to be mentioned she wanted her own kids after that?

Thoma's kids are taught to be polite and respectful, but not overly reserved and quiet, no - in your own house the man would literally let them destroy the kitchen in attempts to bake something as an experiment and then turn cleaning it up into a fun game of three, or four, if you decide to join.

He is that kind of dad, who constantly falls asleep with both kids nestled on his chest and his arms wrapped around them, with a book of tales either lying on his stomach or abandoned on the floor. You literally mastered your technique of waking him up without stirring the kids, so you could bring the two to their rooms.

Your kids love walks, whether it’s in the city or admiring the scenery near the Kamisato Estate. When it’s in the city though, the four of you attract attention without a fail. Especially elders, who coo at the image of Thoma holding his daughter’s hand and you cradling your little boy to your chest. You are literally showered in little gifts and are offered many discounts, because everyone adores and respects your family. At some point for a short period of time a rumor was running around Inazuma City, that if you get to see all four members of the Kamisato retainer’s family, luck is going to follow you through the day. Thoma had to ensure it came to an end, wanting to keep you three safe and not being followed around in your leisure time.

To summarize it’s needless to say that this man is a natural when it comes to being a father. He already aced being a great husband, you never had any doubt that the same would be true about becoming a dad. And it brings you so much joy that your kids are aware of it.

Making your husband's lunch is an essential part of your morning routine. Sure, the Kamisato Estate provides its workers with meals and breaks, but knowing how much Thoma loves your home-cooked meals, you'll never refuse him this pleasure. 

On days like today you pack two more lunches, for your kids - yesterday they expressed their desire to go and help their dad. But you are more than aware of the plan they've had in their mind for the longest time. That's why you turn a blind eye and chop fruits particularly loudly, when you ten- and four-year olds sneak into the kitchen and hide something in the wrapper of an already packed lunch.

And when they were leaving and every member of your family gave you kisses, you couldn’t help but notice the decreased stack of small papers you have in the hall to make notes.

Maybe next time, you’ll ask your kids to join.

Thoma bringing his kids to work is always a pleasant surprise to the Estate’s staff. Even the guards by the gates can’t keep their composure, when the girl cheerfully greets them, wishing a good day, and the boy softly chirps a little “hi” and shyly waves his hand at them. Next person they always meet is Furuta - and the old lady adores their greeting ritual and is the one who looks after the fellow housekeeper’s kids when they help or play outside. But if usually the woman just makes small compliments to the children and chides Thoma for not bringing them over more, today his daughter breaks the routine - she suddenly lets go of his hand and quickly runs to her father’s colleague and asks her to speak in the corner. A bit stunned, the blonde watches the two move farther and start quietly talking. The boy in his arms curiously watches them and then, as if realizing something claps his hands.

“What is it, cookie?” But the only answer he receives is merry giggling.

The next strange thing happens, when the three of them arrive in his room - kids, looking as suspicious as possible, start making excuses to go and play first, though they usually insist on following him around unless they get bored, and as they disappear behind the door with his daughter’s bag - Master Ayato requests his visit. 

Getting out of his office only an hour later, Thoma has to rush to his duties, realizing that he’ll have to speed up if he wants to finish everything the blue-haired man has just told him to do. He even handed him a list with tasks, which never happened. What’s going on?

Not finding the children in his room, he decides to start without them, assuming they'll join him later. Okay, what’s the first thing on the list… Check all the chairs. Alright…

Luckily this piece of furniture isn’t numerous in the residence, giving the culture of Inazuma, and Thoma knows perfectly every single room where he can find them. What he wasn’t expecting to find is the folded papers on the seats of some of those. Upon unfolding each revealed a single letter. Strange… Well, at least the chairs themselves are in the required condition.

Tucking the papers in his pocket and fishing the list out of the other one, the man checks his next destination. Check all the bushes around the main building. Blinking, he looks again. No, the handwriting is definitely his master’s, but the contents? In his style, but why so sudden?

Following every single point, Thoma manages to find in total 13 papers with letters on it, before the list stops being weird and advises the housekeeper to dedicate the time before lunch to his common responsibilities. Which he, with an exhale of relief, proceeds to fulfill.

When the time for lunch rolls around, kids, as if magically, reappear at his side and innocently smile at him, asking how he spent his time. He promises to tell them over lunch.

Lunch, that brings him four more pieces of paper. And suddenly, both kids are not that interested in food.

“Make a phrase, make a phrase!” His daughter chants, holding her brother in her lap, and the little boy claps his hands, chanting ‘make! make!’. Already realizing that all of this was their meticulously crafted plan (to participate in which they managed to convince quite a few people), Thoma doesn’t oppose, putting all the papers on the table in front of him. 

S V E E T S I R H E Y B T

And A P A P which he got from his lunch.

“The” is guessed immediately. “Is” as well. When he reaches for the “A P A P” to add it to the pile, the girl suddenly lunges forward, putting her hand on top of it and shaking her head. Alright, not yet.

S V E E T R Y B is left. Okay, maybe “very” and… “best”!

Moving the pieces around in utter concentration, the man puts the words in the right order. And only then the ten-year old lifts her hand. With a baited breath he moves the four remaining pieces a little more and his heart skips a beat, and the summer-green eyes widen.

PAPA IS THE VERY BEST

“Surprise!” The girl beams with the widest smile, hugging her brother. “We wrote it together! See how some of the letters are clumsy? He did it!” She proudly looks at the boy, gently ruffling his hair. “Recently he was trying to learn how to write! You are the first one who sees it, even mom didn’t! And we chose this phrase, because- dad, are you crying?”

Warm silent tears are indeed running down his cheeks and the man nods, not trusting his voice. A whirlwind of emotions overtakes him, making it a little hard to formulate his thoughts, but he reacts immediately when his kids rush to him, opening his arms and catching them in a tight embrace. He'll tell them how touched he is, he'll praise them, he'll declare his love for them again and again. A tiny bit later. Now he just needs to hold them and hear that he, for real, "is the very best papa".

Alhaitham and Kaveh

Listen, just LISTEN - imagine these men’s pure shock when their wives surprise them over a double date at Kaveh’s house with their pregnancies. Like, AT THE SAME TIME. Kaveh is gaping at his woman, but Alhaitham is no better - a glass with wine frozen in air in the middle of his attempt to put it back on the table as his eyes are not blinking, glued to his spouse. The blonde would be the first one to break from his stupor and tightly hug his wife, kissing all over her face all laughter and little jumping in place, while his junior would finally put the glass down and beckon his woman onto his lap and bury his face in her neck with arms around her body, quietly thanking her for amazing news.

The kids are not even formed in the women’s stomachs, but they already have a story to share.

Alhaitham

Despite not giving the impression the man likes the idea of being a father to a child together with you, his beloved. Of course the pregnancy was planned, but even he couldn’t predict the possibility of you and his friend’s wife being pregnant at the same time. Though he does find it a little amusing and can’t lie to himself that watching you and your female friend discuss the nursery designs, the clothes, the gender, the two babies becoming akin to siblings warms his heart.

He always loved quiet evenings with you, but later, as your bump got more and more prominent, he finds himself craving your back pressed to his chest and his palms cradling your rounding stomach. He talks to his kid in there, reads them books and soothes, when they are restless and don’t let you sleep that well. And that’s how early on you understood who’s going to be the one putting your newborn to sleep, because your persuasions didn’t work that well.

And your husband doesn’t mind. He actually loves cradling his daughter - yes, it’s a little girl! - to his chest and lull her to sleep - it gives him an unimaginable sense of fulfillment.

As your little wonder grows older, Kaveh can’t help but comment how similar her scowl is to her father’s - combined with the annoyed sharp glare of the eyes she also got from him. But that’s only when she is being capricious. Most of the time she is calm and sporting your sweet smile, voice soft and eyes lacking the mentioned above sharpness. 

By the way, she is older than Kaveh’s kid, which makes the Scribe just a little bit smug.

Alhaitham is all too happy to be the one educating her. He makes sure to balance her time spending with him and her time spending with you, encouraging her to engage in your hobbies and have a mother-daughter time. But the most he loves the time the three of you spend together - be it as simple as grocery shopping, having a meal together or cuddling in the evening, or going on whole little expeditions, because his girl wants to explore something on the topic she is currently interested in.

Oh, and he is so biased when it comes to her. There is only one non-scholar kid in all of Sumeru who has her own personal access to the House of Daena, research laboratories, research data and the Scribe’s office at any working hour - and that’s your daughter.

“Look, that’s the Scribe’s wife!”

Taken aback, you stop in your way when at least a dozen students surround you. Raising an eyebrow you survey their faces thoughtfully, noting that they seem to be quite desperate. But even before you can open your mouth they interrupt.

“Tell him to let us in! We have applications to submit!”

“And I have questions why mine was declined!”

“I need his signature on my thesis papers!”

“He locked himself inside with your daughter and said not to disturb their nap! Unbelievable-”

“And how exactly can I help?” You cut through the cacophony of their voices. Students look at you as if you’ve just grown a second head.

“...you are his wife? You can influence him.” “First of all, demanding something from a person you barely know is simply rude,” you narrow your eyes and a chill runs down some of the spines - for a moment you looked just like your husband. “Secondly, I am not involved in his work and I don’t plan to. Now, please, step aside.”

“You can’t be so cruel!”

“Oh, and you can? Let me guess, at least half of you missed deadlines, a small portion made mistakes again and the rest are not in an urgent need to see my husband, but decided to stick with others in hopes that getting to him right now will work?”

Leaving them stunned by your easy guess, you finally push your way through, holding a box with food you brought for lunch close to your chest. Once in front of the door you don’t even have the time to raise a fist for knocking, because the door unlocks and opens, revealing the tall man behind it.

Silently and quickly you step inside and the door shuts again, the key turns in the lock and then is thrown on the nearest table. The office meets you with welcomed tranquility, and dimmed lights are a nice contrast to the blindingly white walls of the Akademiya.

“So, you heard everything? They said you were napping,” you question his guess of when to open the door to let you in. Alhaitham rolls his eyes, glaring at the hindrance you left behind the door, and then takes the box from you.

“I was, but since I lent my earpieces I could hear the commotion in the corridor,” with his free hand he takes yours and leads you further into the room. There, on the sofa, you spot your daughter - wearing her dad’s device and napping, curled under his cape.

“Oh Dendro Archon, she is so adorable,” you coo in awe. “Look how big your things are on her!”

“She demanded I take a break and sit with her,” the Scribe hums, putting the food on the table and then locking both of his arms around you in an embrace. “But the more she was reading to me while sitting at my side, the sleepier she was getting, so we decided to nap.”

You listen to him, while observing your precious girl. She seems serene and content, holding onto the gold-embroidered piece of fabric, surely containing her father’s soothing scent. The earpieces are adjusted to hold onto her head and in silence you can even catch the faintest sounds of a melody. Ah, if only you had a Kamera with you…

“Let’s get her her own earpieces and cape.”

“The cape is unnecessary, but I did consider the device. I could make her her own, especially since she’s been complaining about having hard times to concentrate while she is at the Akademiya.” “But with the cape she’d be just like you!”

“Am I alone not enough for you already?” Light turquoise eyes are hard to read, but you manage to catch a shadow of amusement.

“But matching outfits are charming! Like, remember the last time we’ve been to Kaveh’s? The whole family had matching robes!”

“Then you’ll have to dress like me too.”

“If I am to get an intricate cape and a device to block the sounds of you huffing - I don’t mind.”

Alhaitham huffs. Then stops, realizing he’s just done what you were accusing him of, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Kidding, kidding. Let’s discuss it over lunch. Can you wake her while I am setting the table?”

Your husband nods and, receiving a quick peck to his cheek, releases you from his hold, stepping closer to the sofa.

As you busy yourself with the food, you occasionally glance at the two from the corner of your eye, absolutely swooning over how gently Alhaitham takes the earpieces off, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, softly murmurs her name and coaxes her from sleep with the news that mommy came and brought delicious food with her. And when two sets of identical eyes look at you tenderly, a loving smile lights up your face.

Kaveh

Can you see this man sticking his finger in Alhaitham's direction and declaring that his kid is going to be senior to his friend's? Because I can. (Too bad he was wrong).

As well as I can see this man accidentally becoming supportive not only of you but the other man's family as well - and drawing the blueprints for both nurseries is probably only the beginning (but you were the only one whose every suggestion he took without arguing).

From day one his mind is set on being the best dad for your baby, just like he is the best husband to you. He reads books, seeks advice in Bimarstan, even writes letters to his mother in hopes she'll share her experience, that could help you. Though when it comes to shopping for your yet unborn baby, you have to physically restrain him from buying every single cute plushie or onesie he sees. 

When your daughter is born though, it's getting harder, because your own desire to spoil this golden-haired angel is unmeasurable. Maybe it's because she looks so much like your husband and you are projecting your need to shower him in love and affection and give everything you possibly can, but by the end of the day you just simply love her very much.

Kaveh adores doing anything creative with his daughter. She wants a mosaic in a frame on her wall? They'll put it from the little tiles together and Kaveh would hold her in his arms so she could hang it. She wants a dollhouse? They'll spend the time drawing the draft and picking colors and materials for EVERYTHING. And then he'll be building it, while she crafts little furniture. And it doesn't matter if she did it too small or too big - papa will help her adjust it.

But even so, Kaveh doesn't expect his daughter to be some genius or follow in his steps. No, he knows he'll love her even if she stops sharing the creative approach with him. He knows better than anyone how crushing it is to have everyone's expectations to loom over you and predatory gazes watch tirelessly, anticipating the moment you fail. He gives a vow to himself, to you, to your girl, that he will be there no matter what. 

Matching. Outfits. You own so many it's almost worrisome. But your daughter loves them. There were a couple occasions when she drew her own designs for the three of you and you had it tailored, which left her absolutely ecstatic.

On that note, you believe Kaveh's (tiny) fear that she'll lose interest in creativity is going to be short-lived - especially after your visit to Fontaine to let your daughter meet her granny, which the girl spent with wide open eyes and mouth, absorbing everything around her to use it later.

Also having your daughter earned you a heavy supporter in moments when Kaveh starts to overwork. He can't resist the charm of both of his girls and is easily swayed to the nearest sofa/bed to cuddle and share lots of kisses. All his life he has been the anchor for others - now he has two people to be that for him.

Kaveh is easily spooked by sudden noises, and your eleven-year old daughter knows that. That's why she makes sure to tap her feet loud enough to hear their approach through the door of his study. Balancing a small tray with a cup of tea and your special dessert in one hand, she lifts the other to gently knock on the door.

"Come in, baby!" Reaching higher she pulls the handle.

The floor littered with crumpled papers isn't a new sight to her, just as her father's hunched back over the properly lit table. But when the door closes, the architect immediately puts the pencil down and turns around, giving her a big smile.

"Hi, sweety," he is beaming, seeing her adorable face and a growing smile, complementing those precious twinkles in her eyes.

"Hi, papa!" She chirps like a little birdie - her actual nickname - and Kaveh nearly drops his head in his palms and cries. How can he be a father to someone so tender?

"Mama said you are working and made you something! I helped," she lifts the tray, showing him what she has. "We hope you will like it."

Oh, he definitely will, he doesn't doubt it. Carefully wrapping his fingers around the edges, the man takes his late afternoon snack and brings it closer to his face, inhaling the sweet smell of the desert and a soothing aroma of the tea.

"Thank you, little birdie," he puts the tray aside and bends lower to wrap his arms around her and smooch her cheek. "You and mama are the best."

"Hehe, we know," she giggles. "You are the best too."

"Awww," Kaveh can't help but nuzzle against her cheek, gaining another giggle and a cute scrunch of her nose.

"Daaaaaaaad!"

"Sorry, sorry, baby, you are just so adorable. Just like your mama."

"But mama says I am pretty like you."

"Both can work together," he assures her, but a soft blush covers his cheeks. No matter how many years have passed, he still gets shy whenever his wife uses "pretty" to describe him.

"Okay!" She simply agrees, giving him a big hug. "Sorry, but I should be going now. Mama wants to go grocery shopping and I want to help her."

Now that she says this, Kaveh pays closer attention to her outfit - the white sundress with pink roses is definitely not something she'll wear at home.

"Alright then, let me escort you downstairs."

Standing up, he easily hoists her in his arms and lets her perch on his left one, as her arms wrap around his neck.

When they reach the hall, the girl has managed to make two braids in his hair, now twisting them around each other. Kaveh finds both her and your obsession with touching his hair amusing, but sometimes it feels nice and relaxing. And you did put him to sleep by scratching his head on multiple occasions.

You, who are standing in front of the mirror, and even witnessing just your profile, the architect is in love all over again. 

He should take you on a date later this week.

"Well, I definitely wouldn't mind that," you chuckle, turning to face him and offering your most teasing smile. Ah, he said the date part out loud, didn't he? "But right now I need to go and take care of our dinner's ingredients."

Your husband nods in understanding and puts your daughter down, dusting the skirt of her dress and making sure everything is intact. Getting a quick peck on the nose, he gives her one on the forehead and straightens up to immediately welcome you into his embrace and share a soft kiss.

“Be sure to take a break and enjoy the snack we made for you. And I mean it when I say taking a break. We all remember how you spilled your morning coffee over the blueprint and had to redraw everything again. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

A wild shiver runs down Kaveh’s spine and he feverishly shakes his head. No, if there is one thing he is certain in it’s hating the repetition of this.

“You don’t have to remind me,” his heavy sigh ghosts over your skin. “And it won’t happen again.”

“I believe in you!” You cheer joyfully and it warms his heart.

“I believe in papa too!” Your daughter throws her fists in the air. “Papa can do anything!”

“Of course he can,” you gently nudge her back, ushering her to the front door. “See you soon, Kaveh. We love you.”

“I love you too.”

Waving at your leaving figures he waits until you shut the door and stick the key in the lock, before smiling to himself and returning to his study.

The tea got a little cold and the dessert’s top melted just a tiny bit, but both are still incredibly delicious. Leaning back in an armchair with a plate resting on his knee and a cup wrapped in his hands, the man feels happily at ease and two precious girls are the reason why.

Tighnari 

Frankly, I don't think Tighnari has ever given much thought to becoming a dad, let alone settling down with someone. But taking care of Collei, becoming her mentor, stepping so close to becoming a parental figure, probably played its role as well.

Biggest part, of course, was you - another pretty fennec hybrid, who, due to the same biological background, could share a lot of things with him that the man couldn't and honestly didn't want to bother explaining to others, he sure has other things to fulfill.

It took years of courting from both sides, but eventually, you two settled down together, content with each other as a partner. When the talk of kids happened, the forest ranger was hesitant - he knows he can handle a kid, he can handle ten if required thanks to his immense patience and love for teaching, but since you were different from humans, the man was aware that you could be carrying more than three babies at one time. Even if your body is built to handle it by evolution, he still didn't want to make you go through with so much. Initially. However when you looked so hopeful to have a family with your beloved, swore it's going to be just one time and then you'll keep using protection like before, he was convinced and actually quite excited.

So much nuzzling during your pregnancy. So much nuzzling when the babies are born - three beautiful boys and one girl, with the prettiest fluffy tails and ears of yours or his fur. He immediately jumped to being a father, without any complaint taking care of your kids, while you were recovering. He adores them so much, but at times hardly manages to keep an eye on all four - good thing you moved into a bigger house that is closer to the ground, because little explorers did try to escape outside on multiple occasions.

What gets Tighnari's heart burst like fireworks though? Spotting you napping with all of your babies huddled in your embrace, body practically curled around them and a tail resting on top. The first time it happened - maybe a couple of weeks after you gave birth to them - Tighnari left you alone with the kids to do an examination on the work of forest rangers in his absence, and when he returned back - he nearly collapsed from how adorable the five of you looked. Definitely joined.

From their early age he taught his kids everything about the forest so they would be prepared, and, even he won't ever admit it, it stirred something in his chest when they looked up at him with wonder and fascination in their gleaming eyes. They were also taught to be independent, but at the same time to work as a team, and they are so good at that.

The circle of four is absolutely perfect. Little hands are swift and precise, and the absolute concentration is written on the seven-year olds adorable faces. You and Tighnari even stopped your own grooming of each other’s tails to observe your kids’ routine of doing the same thing, but among themselves.

With four pillows on the floor they once again made themselves comfortable, just like every evening, equipped with different kinds of brushes and safe oils. 

You put your chin onto Tighnari's shoulder, still holding his tail in your lap, with yours resting under his palm, and make a soft sound, loud enough for him to recognize and not alert the kids. Your husband nods, purring in response and rubbing his cheek against your temple.

"They are so adorable, 'nari," you sigh, watching the four being so absorbed with their task that they don't even talk. The male couldn't agree more, lifting the corners of his mouth in a smile and then picking another brush to get busy with the tip of your tail.

"They absolutely got it from you, my dear. And did you notice how much progress they've made in the fur-caring routine?"

Tighnari doesn't see that, but you, still staring forward at your kids, clearly see how four pairs of ears prick up. How cute, someone wants the praise.

"That they did. And I don't know about you, but at the age of 7 I didn't even know that the fur has to be clean and taken care of anyhow. I guess, I never gave it much thought when my mom did it for me. Our little ones are so independent."

Four tails move a little, kids clearly delighted.

"You are right, they are," Tighnari hums, running his fingers through your now well-groomed fur, and your children hold their chins up proudly. "If only this independence didn't extend to trying to escape to the forest on their own against all of my warnings."

Inhumane eyes glare at the frozen bodies of the "explorers" in question, making them lower their gaze and pick up from where they stopped their routine. Oh, they know what they've done.

You can only sigh, fully understanding your husband's concerns, and finish tending to his tail.

Next is the balm you generously scoop onto your palm to rub into the rough texture of your fox-like pads. When you do the same for Tighnari, receiving a tender kiss to your nose, and then to each of your babies, as they walk to you one by one, still with guilty, pouty, but adorable faces, while your husband is putting away all the tools and products.

Soon your bed is occupied with all of your kids, snuggling to your sitting body and drowsily asking to sleep with you two tonight. Even the thought of making a dozen more steps to their own rooms is killing the last energy in them - the routine has an incredible side effect: they immediately become sleepy when they are done and you don't have much trouble with putting them to bed.

Especially when the bed is right here. The bed that became a large one not even a couple of months along their lives, because this has been a common occurrence.

"Mommy, daddy, can we sleep with you tonight, please?" Your daughter lifts her pleading eyes at you, being the one who managed to directly slide into your lap and into your embrace. Three boys, attached to your sides silently lift their eyes too, pouting in attempts to break your resolve. Which wasn't here in the first place.

"What'd you say, 'nari?" Chuckling, you look at your husband climbing onto the bed to join the five of you.

"Weren't we just discussing their independence? They can surely walk to their rooms. Come on, babies, back to your beds."

"Noooooooooo," their hold on you immediately becomes a death grip. "We want to stay with you!"

"Kids, I can't breathe-" you gasp from the crushing hug of at least two pairs of arms squeezing your middle.

"We want to stay, we want to stay, we want to stay!"

"That's what you should've told yourselves earlier this morning when you decided to get to the river with spinocrocodiles. That you want to stay. Home. Until I or your mother could go on a walk with you outside the village."

At his strict tone and at the reminder of them nearly losing their tails this morning to the sharp jaws of wild animals, four little foxes lower their eyes, ashamed. But they do relax their hold around you.

Tighnari sighs, rubbing his temples and contemplating when he's going to get his first gray hairs.

"Okay, I'll let you sleep with us tonight, BUT," he slightly raises his voice to emphasize, especially since the four immediately got in high spirits, "if something like this happens again - you are losing this privilege for a week. Are we clear?"

"Yes, daddy…"

"Yeah.."

"Mhm…"

"Sure, dad…"

And that's the only confirmation Tighnari needs before lifting the covers, because no matter how restless and disastrous your children can be - he has almost as hard a time as you do telling them "no".

[atlaculture]

how do you think the calendar is organized in the atla universe? they have a twelve-month system like we do but what would those months each be called? do you think they have leap years?

Right off the bat, let me just say that hypothetical calendars and alternative timekeeping is one of my favorite topics to talk about so this reply is going to be lengthy.

First off, everything we know about the calendar system in Avatar comes from the planetary calendar room in Wan Shi Tong's library.

The innermost ring indicates the number of months in a year (12), the second ring indicates the number of days in a month (30), the third ring indicates the different Avatar eras (16 shown), and the outermost ring showcases all of the animals of the zodiac cycle (12). For this reply, we're only going to be focusing on the innermost and second rings.

According to the episode, the ATLAverse appears to have only 12-month years, so no leap year 13th month like the East Asian lunar calendar. There also doesn't appear to be any months with more than 30 days, judging by the number of days shown on the calendar. This means that the maximum number of possible days for an Avatar year is 360. So it's safe to say that there are probably no leap years like ours in the ATLAverse. I guess their Earth's orbit is slightly shorter and more suited for timekeeping than ours.

As for what each month would be called in the ATLAverse, there's a couple of options. One option is to simply call the months by order: First month, second month, third month, etc. This actually ties back to Avatar's Chinese influence, as that's literally how months are named in Mandarin. This is straightforward, practical, and doesn't require any complex etymology or extensive worldbuilding.

However, I also think it would be fun to weave motifs into the calendar. Since there's so much emphasis on balance and cycles, why not divide the twelve months between the four elements? I imagine these months would be referred to as:

The 1st, 2nd, & 3rd Water Month

The 1st, 2nd & 3rd Earth Month

The 1st, 2nd, & 3rd Fire Month

The 1st, 2nd, & 3rd Air Month

For example, a person might say "I was born during the first water month, in the year of the rabbit." Naturally, there would be plenty of superstitions and horoscopes related to the combination of birth month and birth year.

The show also canonically mentions weeks passing by, although they never specify the number of days in their weeks. In a previous post, I mentioned that government officials during the Qin & Han Dynasty were given a day off every five days to bathe themselves. I think this would be a good basis for a week in the ATLAverse, four days of work and one day of rest. Each working day would be named after a cardinal direction (East-day, North-day, West-day, South-day) and the resting day would be called "Center-day", paralleling a compass.

In short, an ATLA month would be comprised of 6 five-day weeks and a year would be made up of 12 thirty-day months; the days would be themed around the cardinal directions and the months would be themed around the four elements. I think this would be a good way of adding texture to the world of Avatar, without weighing the setting down with too much worldbuilding or cultural baggage.

...And that would just be the default "world" calendar that spirit libraries and travelers and international organizations would use. I think each nation would probably have their own unique calendar tailored to suit their own cultural and seasonal needs.

I might make a few posts on what each nation's calendar system might be, if anyone would like to read that.

Like what I’m doing? Tips always appreciated, never expected. ^_^

https://ko-fi.com/atlaculture

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Rogue!Reader (2)

ᯓ★ angst, fluff, typical the boys content, Butcher is an asshole?!?! (what a surprise) 😲. Reader is fem!! Here's part 1 if you missed it. (Didn't proof read because im sick again 🤒)

Sounds of muffled talking... needles poking through your skin... your mind fogged from the effects of the drugs... the heavy feeling of helplessness as you were tied down. Nothing you could do. You were hopeless. You didn't stand a chance.... Slowly you squint your eyes open as the vision of your friend's corpse comes to view. The horrifying sight jerking your body awake.

"Oh...oh..." You breath heavily with your body covered in cold sweat. The adrenaline coursing through your veins. You looked around to make sure you weren't inside your cage, but rather inside the room your brother had given to you.

When you were sure you were safe, you let out a relieved sigh as you rub your eyes, giving yourself a moment to settle down. Something tells you this won't be the last nightmare you'll have. Once you were sure you were in a stable condition, you got out of bed and decided to head downstairs to what seemed to be their office.

After last night when you were taken to their headquarters, Butcher offered you some clothes to change into and also making sure you were well fed. From how exhausted you were at the time, you could only remember talking about something to Butcher before passing out on his bed.

As you descend from the stairs, you couldn't help but peek your head to look at who were present. Even though they were told to be his friends. You yourself weren't that 100% willing to trust a bunch of strangers just because he said they were 'not the worst people he's met'. To your surprise it was just three people inside and they were each doing their things.

Butcher wasn't anywhere in sight.

This sucks.

Since you aren't planning to stand and wait at the stairway, you entered the office, it only took a few steps for your presence to be noticed. You sat on the sofa just a few feet from the girl who appeared to be busy writing in her book. She shoots you a warm smile which you hesitantly smiled back.

"I'm (Y/N)... what's your name?" You asked but she suddenly shifts her eyes from you to someone else. Curious, you looked over the sofa to see someone already approaching you.

"Her name's Kimiko..." He said as he takes a seat beside you.

"You still remember my name yes? I was the one who snuck you out" You thought for a second before finally recognising him.

"Frenchie right?" You asked and judging from the smile on his face. You must be right.

"I didn't get to say but thanks for rescuing me" You said to which he laughs.

"Ahh...! Don't thank me! Your brother would have skinned me alive if I refused. If you had seen his outrage when he found out Homelander had you involved, you'd think twice before pissing him off by saying no" He recalled, emphasising everything he says through his hand gestures and facial expressions.

"He does have a temper..." You uttered.

Just then the door opens and all four of you turned to see Butcher walking in with another guy. You got to your feet and went over to your brother who after taking off his coat, hands you the takeaway he had bought.

"Here ya go sis. I figured durin' your days as a lab rat you probably ate like one" He said as you realise he had bought you your favourite food.

The simple gesture somehow making you feel like a kid again. The simpler times where you felt stress free. Just sleep and eat. Though you didn't dwell too much into the feeling as the feeling of hunger soon made you quickly sit down and started eating. Butcher eyes you for a second before walking off to talk to his friend about something that you could care less about.

Mm... good food...

You were too focused gobbling down the food in front of you that you failed to notice the guy sitting on the chair before you. He watches you consciously as you ate like you never eaten in ages. It was when you began to choke that he panicked and quickly pushed the cup of water towards you. His hands retreating back to his lap to avoid any contact with your skin.

As you gulp down the water and finally waited for the burn in your chest to vanish was when you realised you had been eating like a wolf. Months of being locked up by Homelander felt like a physiological torture that you seemed to have lost all your self control. You really lost touch with humanity. It makes you hate him even more for what he did.

"Hey um... you holding up alright? We haven't properly met. I'm Hughie" He said once he sees you zoning out. You look at him with your brows slightly raised.

His voice was somehow soothing. Like the feeling of a fever dream.

"I'm (Y/N)"

"I know" He smiles slightly at you, almost like he's fascinated by your presence.

"So you're his sister. I didn't even think he had any family. He was always private about his life"

"So am I. I guess it runs in the family..."

Your harmless joke making him chuckle softly. As you go back to eating in a more slower pace, he couldn't help but watch your every movement. It was like watching a kid eating for the first time. When they had saved you, you were almost all bones. Your hands are trembling even now just from holding the spoon.

Just even thinking of that night, what still intrigued him was even after those months of torture you still had the energy to argue with your brother. It was there where he finally understood how you were both related. You were just as much as a fighter as your brother is.

"Ahh motherfucker" You cursed as you fan at the fly to get away from your food though the second it touches your skin, it instantly drops dead on the table.

The two of you stared at it as it twitches slightly before going limp.

Problem... solved?

"I assume that you did that on demand?"

"I... think so?"

Just when you thought things were ever gonna be back to normal, your powers always had to remind you of the true reality. The reality that you are NOT normal. Since you were curious of your new abilities, you reached out and touched the flower pot just placed in the center of the table.

Just one touch of your finger on the leaves. The plant slowly devolves from a lively colour to a rotting brown. The flower withers as the stem grows weak. Due to the lack of stability, it collapses completely. Somehow the sight of the dead plant made your throat dry. Images of your friend's corpse flashing in your mind.

Hughie took notice of your dilated eyes and decided to take the plant off the table, placing it carefully on the ground to make sure it's out of your sight. You could only take long breaths as you tried to get rid of the terrible image. Gosh... you can't even imagine how her family is dealing with this... or if they even know she's... sigh..

"Oi!" The sound of Butcher's call causing you two to look at him. When he waves at you to head over to him, you shoot Hughie an apologetic look as you got up to see what he's calling you for.

"You know you don't have to call me over like a dog, I have a name"

"Oh really? Your character hardly screams 'man's best friend', especially with that pissy look" He teases you with a slight smirk which you simply ignored.

"What is it?"

He stares at you, taking note of your expressionless face before nodding to himself. His whole demeanour becoming serious within seconds.

"It's about your powers" He said, his words catching your full focus in an instant.

"From what we've known... the only possibility for a non-supe person to have powers is to dose themselves with a modified version of compound v. But that's only temporary, and yours... are permanent" Butcher said, his eyes avoiding yours.

"Whatever they did to you, we're gonna figure it out... so, while I do that, M.M will be supervisin' you, won't ya M?" Butcher said, looking over his friend who's hunched over his table and writing something down.

"Well if it ain't me then who else is gonna"

"I can!" Frenchie spoke up, his forwardness catching everyone's attention. Once he realises the looks he was getting, he awkwardly smiles.

"You know, for research" He adds. You sigh as you close your eyes, turning your head to face your brother.

What are you getting yourself into at this point...

"Nothing you say quite makes sense to me. The fuck is a compound v??"

"It's what gives the supes their powers"

"What??" You narrow your brows.

"You're saying they weren't gifted?? Like, God didn't bless them and made them our saviours?? They're just a bunch of normal people high off of superpower drugs??" He grins widely at your conclusion.

"Congratulations sis, you're finally catchin' up" He said, giving you a pat on the back before walking away. You stand there, still a bit confused before going after him.

"Waitwaitwait, where are you going? You just got back a few minutes ago" You asked as he puts on his coat.

"I'm going to meet someone. Hopefully they can help me with your situation, or at least provide some insight on what Homelander did to you"

Homelander.

Just the mention of his name being said by someone made your blood boil.

You wanted to tear him apart.

"Alright... but don't take too long... okay?" You look at him, almost like you were trying to beg him to stay with your eyes. You could tell it was working when you saw how his face started to relax a bit.

"Yeah..." He reaches for your head but stops midway when he realises he can't.

The sad reality of wanting to hold his own sister could cost him his own life was completely breaking him.

All the more reason to meet up with this contact to figure out a solution.

He doesn't say anything after letting his hand fall to his side. You could only stand there and watch him leave. Somehow, some part inside of you was fearful of the speech Homelander gave you was becoming true. That his goal of striking fear in Butcher by using you was slowly working.

"Hey, (Y/N). I'm gonna need you to come here" M.M said. You didn't say anything but sat on the chair he instructed you to sit on. You watch as he scribbles something on his book before eventually turning to face you.

"Alright so I wrote down some theories and I need you to work with me" He said, his instructions pretty clear. Your eyes however couldn't help but peek at what he had written down.

Does it only work when it's in contact with skin?

Is it like poision? Or does it disintegrate everything it touches?

Can it be controlled?

If it's dangerous then how dangerous can it be?

"Here, put these on" He then handed you a pair of leather gloves.

You took it and did just as he said. You couldn't help but clench your hands a couple of times to adgust to the fabric of the gloves. Somehow you felt hopeful of this plan. Just then you see him pick up a small plant and placing it on the table in front of you. He nods his head towards it, telling you to touch it.

Though you hesitated... before finally obliging.

You let your fingertips touch the leaves just as you did only a few minutes ago to the other plant. To your surprise, it didn't change colour nor grow weak. It was perfectly fine. This discovery caused you to be overjoyed to the fact you were struggling to form words. M.M simply nodded as he wrote something in his book.

"Holy shit it worked" You exclaimed and couldn't help but stare down at your gloved hands.

"Guess the only thing that can stop you from hurting someone is those gloves..." He turns to face you once again. The smile on your face slightly drops at the mention of hurting someone.

"Guess so..." You uttered, a wave of sadness washing over the joy you were experiencing just now. This will have to be the new normal now...

"Hey, at least it's better than nothing" He said, giving you a comforting pat on the arm. You look at him with a grateful smile, acknowledging his optimistic view of the outcome.

For the next few days you were able to conduct several experiments with the boys. Ranging from testing out your strength to trying to read minds. There were definitely some very odd ideas they've come up with but neither of them wanted to leave out anything so they had to think of all the possibilities of what you could do. Although you were still uneasy about this new change, you felt reassured after knowing more about your powers. In a way you like to think that you had more control over yourself.

It was now Sunday, you were in their office resting on the sofa. Compared to your first day here, you could tell by your own body language that you were beginning to grow comfortable around the group. As you watched whatever was on the TV, you overheard a conversation going on between Butcher and M.M nearby. However judging by their tone it seemed to be about something serious.

"Seriously Butcher? You want to get him involved?" M.M said, displeased with something.

"Nobody knows this better than he does and I'm runnin' out of options"

"Options or patience Butcher, do you have any idea what he's done? If you ever so blink, he will put a bullet right between your eyes"

"Well then, you can rest assure that I'll keep my eyes wide open for any bullets" Butcher's stubbornness earning an annoyed grunt out of M.M.

"Relax mate... I've got this. When have I ever let you and the others down, huh?" He said, placing his hand on his shoulder.

"You actually want me to answer that?"

Without saying another word, Butcher simply walked away and you, who've been secretly hearing their conversation couldn't help but take a peek of your brother. Once you see him heading to the other part of the room far from the rest, you decided to get up and approach him.

"Are you having a fun time staring at the wall?" You said, pointing out how he has his arms folded as his hand is stroking his chin. His brows perked at your words.

"You're talkin' about me?" He scoffs.

"Honestly it's better than starin at your face... what do you want?" He looks at you, a playful look on his face.

"What were you talking about with M.M just now? Sounds like it was tough"

"Oh it's nothin', he's just being dodgy about the guy I strucked a deal with"

"If I heard it right, he also said he's slick enough to put a bullet through your head" You lift your gloved hand up to point at his forehead which he simply brush your hand away from his face.

"I've got my share of bullet wounds, I'll survive"

"Not through the skull though"

"How ironic, you've always did call me hard-headed sis" Just as he said that, he started to walk off like he always does when he feels himself being lectured by you, or anyone. That's why you stood in his way when he was just a few feet from the door.

"Where are you going?"

"What makes you think I'd tell you?"

"Okay, fine, don't tell me, just take me with you" He stares at you, unsure of what you were trying to do.

"No way in hell am I bringing you outside"

"If that's your concern then I can wear a disguise. Nobody will know it's me"

"Nobody is not my concern, my concern is you. What if you accidentally let a bit of your skin show and you, oh I don't know, turn a pedestrian into a fucking mummified corpse"

"What the fuck are you crying about? I can wear layers! C'mon, anything to get out of this cooped up place for once"

"You're complaining about this being cooped up? Tell me, would you rather spend a year here or that lab?"

"Hey fuck you! That is not what I meant! I just wanted to go outside!"

"Alright alright! Would you two quit it before you tear my ears off" M.M said, having to be the one to end the bickering.

"I was just about to leave anyways" Butcher didn't even look you in the eye and walked past you. His attitude was making you angrier than ever.

You just wanted to shout and throw things around. This is just like your argument with him regarding his path of going down a life of committing crimes against supes. He always never chooses to take you seriously. Yet even after years where you'd think the consequences of his actions would shape his character a bit, it sure as hell didn't, instead it just gave him a sloppy kiss on the face. You went upstairs into your bedroom and just as you open the door, you found Hughie inside. Awkward, he quickly stands from where he was crouching.

"What are you doing in my room?"

"Oh uh sorry I was looking for the tools Frenchie asked for, he said it was in Butcher's room... which... is... your room now..." He clears his throat as he avoids your gaze.

"Is it the yellow box with the 'Do not touch' note on it?"

"Y-Yeah how do you—?" Without even letting him finish, you were already heading over to your bed to get it out from underneath it. You hand it to him and he takes it with a surprised look. The heavy weight causing his body to drop a bit but he quickly recovers from it.

"I guess I'll go... thanks" He said but you had your back turned to him as you went to sit down on your bed, clearly indicating you weren't in the best mood. He walks to the door, though he doesn't leave. After hesitating, he turns around to face your back once again.

"You okay?" He calls out. His question leaving you feeling even more conflicted.

"Just Butcher" You replied.

Oh.

Somehow that simple answer clears it up. He may not have worked with him the longest but he's worked long enough to know that the man can be such a pain in the ass. Pretty much a day with the man is enough to get a clear picture of his personality. What didn't make it any better was the difference in their beliefs about the supes.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Hughie asks. You stared down at your hands that are scratching at your nails. You do wanna talk about it but you're not sure anyone would listen to you, like actually understand how you felt.

"Are you gonna judge me?" You asked.

"Judge you? Why would I do that?"

"Well... would you be concern if I told you I'm debating whether or not if I should punch him the next time I see him?" You looked at him, searching for his reaction.

"... would it make you feel better if I told you I once had?" He said and the image of someone like Hughie punching Butcher made you chuckle a bit to yourself.

"I find that very hard to believe... but did it at least feel good?" You look at him and you could see him slowly inviting himself into the room as the conversation continued on.

"It did. For a while..." Soon he sat himself beside you on the bed.

"I don’t wanna seem like I'm intruding but why is it that you guys are always at each other's throats... I mean, he really seems to care about you so shouldn't you two get along well?"

"Psssh... he doesn't care about me"

"Errr, if he didn't he wouldn't have gone out of his way to save you from Homelander. He even sent me to spy on you when you were at work once. It was kinda—"

"Huh?" You interrupt him and your reaction had him hold his tongue.

"Spy on me? When was that?" He stares at you, batting his lashes at you blankly a few times.

"Uh I thought Butcher told you... I was the customer who asked to go to the restroom. Remember? The one with the jacket on?" He said but you were having a hard time recalling the exact memory. Your mind still a bit fuzzy from everything that happened before the kidnapping.

"I don't know... but I can't believe he would do that. Spying on me?" You said and once again the anger that was slowly dying down was now going back up.

"He was worried about you"

"If he was worried about me then he would talk to me face to face, not send one of his friends while he hid away like a coward"

"Maybe he was trying to find the right time?" You suddenly turn your head to look at him.

"Why are you making so much excuses for him??" You called him out since you figured from some of the things he told you, he probably hated him just as much as you did.

"I don't know... maybe it was that night when you guys hugged that... kinda changed my mind about him a bit... it's hard to explain but a different side of him showed. After you went to sleep, he stayed up the entire night in the office figuring out how to help you. I did try to get him to sleep but he just started cursing at me to fuck off" He said, recalling the night.

Just thinking of your brother going through computers and documents trying to find the reason behind your manifestation of powers made your heart melt a bit. You can only imagine the hours of sleep he missed, not that he even gets enough sleep but all that hours he could be using to rest and instead using it to solve your issue was nice yet sad to know. Too bad it lead him to doing business with some shady person you don't even know about. All because he wanted to help you.

"So I'm pretty sure that yeah, he does cares about you..." You stare at him, somehow amused at his way of talking things out with you.

"You really went all out trying to prove a point huh?" You said to which he laughed.

"Force of habit maybe? Anyways, I better go, Frenchie needs his tools and you look like you need some rest" He got up and began heading towards the door again but before leaving, he stops to look at you.

"Hopefully you guys work it out. He's been through a lot and I think having his family close by might keep him... human" He added. You take his words into consideration as he finally goes.

....

"Why'd you let that happen to me?" She yelled through her tears, grabbing at your shoulders as if she needed support from her limping body.

......

"You dragged me into this mess!!" Her nails were so sharp you felt like it was digging through your skin.

.............

"You killed me!! You were my friend!! You fucking bitch!!!" You couldn't breath. You felt like you were floating in an endless void.

...................

"Rot with me" She uttered. You scream as thousands of hands began grabbing at every corner of your body. The countless amount of nails on your skin sent shivers down your body. You try to scream for help but its as though your voice was stuck in your throat as no sound comes out.

........................

"NO!! STOP!!" You shout as you awake on your bed. Your screams were loud enough that it caused the door to swing open.

Your brother quickly sat himself on the bed, being careful to wrap you in the blanket before holding you close in his arms. Though your mind was too focused on the nightmare to even know who it was that was holding you. Her whisper like voice, her skeleton face, and fuck... the feeling of the thousand of nails poking your skin haunted you even more. It was so real.

"Sis... hey...! You're safe. You're here with me. No one's goin' to hurt you" He said, his voice being the thing to bring you back to the present. Your breathing somehow steadies after scanning the room to double take.

You really are safe.

"Shit.. sorry..." You could only say as your brother rubs his hand behind your back. The sight of your pale face grew concern.

"You wanna talk about what's got you screamin' in your sleep?" He asks and you let out a half embarrassed sigh. Hopefully you weren't that loud.

"I don't think I'm ready for that..." You said since what you wanted to do now was forget it.

"Aight..." He nods and continues on rubbing your back to provide some comfort. He's not big with words so this is the most he can do...

The room remained silent while you enjoyed the peace you got from his presence. When you felt yourself finally able to think rationally, you can't help but think of what Hughie told you. Working things out... To be clear, talking about your feelings with your family, let alone your sibling ain't easy as it seemed. But seeing the things you and him have gone through, that seems like the best option right now.

"Can I ask you something?" You look up at him and he looks down at you, you could tell he was worried about what you might say, yet he nods.

"Go ahead"

"... what happened after I left... like how did it lead to this? To... how you are now...?" You asked and it caused him to look away with a defeated grunt. As though he saw the question coming from a mile away.

"Theres not much to say... I fought... and I did what I had to do to survive... I wish I could tell you I was a good person for it but... I'd be lying, you wouldn't look at me now if I told you half the things I've done" He answers with his hand placed on your arm. You frown.

"It feels as though you're treating me that way already. You're my brother but sometimes you treat me like I'm just a package to you. That's what your job is about right? Whatever this job is..."

"That's not true sis..."

"Then why does your face tell another story?" You said and your words made him furrowed his brows even more. He stares at you, as if he's considering something in his mind.

"... you won't understand it"

"What don't I understand? We're family right? Blood is thicker than water. That sort of bullshit. We've been through hell together as kids. Having to take abuse from our shitty parents... then losing Lenny..." The mention of his deceased brother pained him even more that he was struggling to maintain eye contact at this point.

"Don't push me away... not again..." You pleaded while placing your other hand on top of his arm. He stayed quiet... almost too long that you were beginning to think he was gonna choose the quiet route out of the conversation until he finally opened his mouth to speak.

"How do I even start... I was furious when I found out Homelander got you involved in our fued.. but then through that rage, I also thought... what if I never went on pissing off a bunch of supes for my selfish reasons? It could have prevented how it led to this. To how he found you" Butcher began to say and you could just hear the guilt in his voice as he began confessing to you about his feelings.

"I regret some choices and some not so much... sometimes I wonder if I should've listen to you and visited that therapist you suggested. I still have the card in my wallet... but I also thought the road was too blurry to head back. I've already got too much blood on my hands, enough to fill a whole sea..." He pauses, then letting out a shaky breath.

"But if I'm being honest with you, my biggest regret would be puttin' you in any danger. Now I can't even look at you without being reminded of my mistakes... that's why it was better that you hated me instead, because it's not fair for you to forgive me after all that"

All his talking about himself was painful to even hear. Let alone the sad and defeated expression on his face. This was the most vulnerable he has ever shown himself to you. The big brother you always thought to be this indestructible force was now bawling out his emotions to you. Oddly enough, you felt glad to see him open himself up to you. This was a new start... when he became quiet, you decided to speak.

"I get why you'd think that but... didn't you tell me it was useless to dwell on things you know is irreversible? Yeah sure, I did have bad stuffs happen to me but you also helped me out of it"

"Bad things which you wouldn't be in if it weren't for me" He was quick to add when you paused but you were fast to respond.

"I know I know but... my point is... some good came out of it... and we can't change the past so we might as well control what comes next. You know... shape our destiny..." You said, feeling awkward as he stares at you a bit too hard but suddenly out of nowhere he snorts into laughter.

"What! Why are you laughing about?" You were confused at his reaction because you weren't sure if he was genuinely humoured or losing his sanity.

"I didn't know you were into that cheesy Shakespeare shit. Where'd you read that one from? The library?" He wheezes and you roll your eyes from his teasing. He can never take you seriously.

"Did you even hear what I said?" You said and from his body shifting a bit was when you realise your feet has been pressed against his leg the entire time you've both spoken. The heavy weight of the blanket must have made it harder to feel.

Even though your skin is touching his, he doesn't seem to be rotting or anything. Rather, he's still laughing at your talk just now. When he finally stops is when you point out your discovery to him. By the time he sees it, he's fast to pull his leg from contact of your skin as to not play with his luck.

"Well shit... what do you make of that?" Butcher looks at you after pretty much leaping up to his feet.

"Then it means that my powers could be controlled?? How is the question..." You said but Butcher seemed to have lose interest on that as another thing is already on his mind.

"So you don't blame me... after everything?" He asked and you look at him, your body frozen with your hand was in the process of lifting up your feet just now to get a close inspection.

"No... but if you keep pissing me off with your attitude I might start hating you" You said after finally leaving your feet alone. He chuckles lowly.

"You're not the brightest person I know" He said but there was a smile on his face. A happy one to be precise.

"That's because I'm related to you, fucker" You joked back.

Eventually after you two seemed to resolve the tension between you both, you manage to go back to sleep with Butcher willing to watch over you by sitting beside you on the bed, but it didn't take long for him to fall asleep, which trying to be as discreet as possible, you were able to catch a peek of. Since you didn't want him to freeze, you place the extra blanket onto him. After all, maybe he's not that much of an asshole.

TAGS

@demodemo909 @naniky @1infp1

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 13

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Canonical character death; Vomiting; Sexual themes.

A/N: It hasn’t taken me this long to write a chapter for this since I started it. And once again, I’m disappointed in the quality. I hope it’s received well enough. :/ And try not to maim me over the ending. I’m hoping it will inspire me to be a bit faster with updates. 😅

It had taken you a while to calm down. Hours later, you were under the sheets and lying with your back toward the door. People came and went, offering food and medication and water. You accepted all with silence, only for the sake of your baby. The little one needed the food and water and you needed the medication to help you keep it down. Carol informed you that she and Lori had taken care of Daryl. Had they murdered him? 

The sun had set and cloaked your room in shadow by the time you opened your eyes again. You didn't even remember falling asleep. What had woken you? Hands rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you sat up. There was a curious light outside the window. It was as if you had been denied the audio from a feature film but suddenly pressed the button to unmute. 

Screams, gunfire, cars, motorcycle. What the hell is happening?! Your fingers brushed the top of your boots when the bedroom door swung open. Lori appeared wild, frightened to a degree you had never witnessed in her before.

“Carl!? Y/N, have you seen Carl?!” 

“No, I’m sorry. Lori, what—” But she was gone. Now the panic was setting in, your chest tightening for the second time that day. Where was Daryl? What was going on? 

“Patricia! Beth! Y/N! We have to go!” Carol’s voice was an unfamiliar tone, the quiet woman infused with a tension and fear in the call of each name. You stepped into your boots and jogged down the stairs just as Patricia and Beth stepped out onto the porch. Carol was reaching for you before you even noticed her. 

“What’s happening?!” You were breathless with worry and confusion.  

“The farm isn’t safe. We have to go!” The woman urged, her hand wrapping around your wrist. Beth was crying, Lori was panicked. The sight that greeted you was overwhelming. Walkers everywhere. The barn burning. Gunshots from cars circling the herd. 

“Carol.” You whimpered. You had no weapon, watching Lori bolt with a bag. “Do we have any guns?” 

“No time to find one! Go!” 

The four of you sprinted off the porch, the herd closing in, forcing you in different directions. You weren’t sure how you ended up so far into the field, running blindly in the dark, the only light coming from the unsteady flames devouring the barn. You didn’t stop running, the dead closing in from all sides. 

You nearly stumbled into the desperate clutches of a woman, teeth snapping at you before she could get a good hold. You pushed her, stumbling backward into the chest of a man, his rotting mouth snapped by your head, nearly taking your ear. You couldn’t help but scream. You’d never make it to the forest. There, you could easily utilize the safety nature provided. However, the amount of dead that blocked your path made it impossible. 

With the fence at your back, the road just beyond it, you glanced over your shoulder. You could hop the structure easily but more dead waited on the other side. Your mind was still scrambling for a resolution when you heard the familiar rumble and crunch of gravel beneath rubber. 

Daryl was there, calling your name. You cleared the fence and ran to him, legs burning and breaths unreliable. 

“C’mon! I ain’t got all day!” He was standing over the front edge of the seat so you could easily mount the bike behind him. Once both of you were seated, you wrapped your arms around his middle and buried your face into his back. 

“Go! Go!” Your shout was muffled against the leather vest but he heard you and soon you were moving, the wind carrying the smell of blood and smoke. You burrowed further against him, taking in his scent instead. Leather and pine, his natural musk, a hint of tobacco. You focused on it while he dodged walkers, the snarling growls and moans too close as you felt him slow and start to weave. 

“Not so tight.” His warm hand patted yours and disappeared just as quickly. 

“Daryl.” You whimpered. You pulled your hands back to rest on his sides, lightly curling your fingers into his vest. Any noise aside from the motorcycle began to fade as the wind picked up. You were going faster. Still, you didn’t let go, didn’t look up. You’d barely made it out. If Daryl hadn’t been there—

He was slowing again, to a crawl and eventually, a stop. When he cut the engine and began to move away, you could feel him taking your breath along behind him. You were clumsy bringing your leg over the seat, nearly toppling face first onto the gravel road. 

“Why—Daryl, why are we stopping?! We can’t be here! It’s not safe, Daryl!” You knew you looked like a wild animal, eyes wide and frantic, your hands protectively curled around your middle. “Daryl—Daryl, we—”

“Easy.” How long had he been standing that close? Your gaze focused on him, but you still couldn’t seem to catch your breath. 

Red. 

“Daddy!”

“I love you, Peanut.”

“Hey, we’re good.” His palms were warm against your face, blue eyes swimming with concern. He was trying to bring you out of the darkness you had wandered into, scared and vulnerable. “Gotta breathe, Y/N. C’mon, girl.” You hadn’t realized your own hands were grasping at his shoulders until he was releasing your face to gently pry them off. “Doin’ better. Can’t stay here long but ya can’t ride like this.” He lowered your hands to your lap and placed his palm back against your cheek. 

You ducked your head and swallowed back the bile inching up your throat, realization striking you like a freight train. “Oh god, I left the meds! All of Hershel’s supplies! Daryl, the baby—”

“Ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to either’a ya. Ya hear me?” The conviction in those eyes, the determination. He meant it. You hiccupped and nodded, the deep breath you finally willed yourself to take stuttering. “Are ya hurt? Bit?” You shook your head with more enthusiasm than necessary. “Need to getcha somewhere safe, try an’ find the others.”

He was still standing close to you and watched as you wiped your face, looking away when you tried to meet his eyes. You allowed your arms to fall back toward your lap, your right one hitting his foreman on the way down. His palm was on your belly. You hadn’t noticed he’d placed it there when he had moved your hands. Bringing attention to it was likely to embarrass or upset him. A repeat of the events from earlier was not something you could handle. 

“What if we’re the only ones?” You asked when his hand moved to run through his hair. He jutted his chin forward, wordlessly requesting you move so he could again straddle the bike. There was no hesitation, he stood with his boots on the ground to let you seat yourself behind him. 

“We ain’t.” 

“But if we are?” 

He didn’t look at you, but was still for a moment. You watched his fingers flex around the handlebars. 

“Then s’just the three’a us.”

You were careful to not squeeze too tightly this time when you wrapped your arms around his stomach. 

You gave a weak smile to Carl as you climbed off the bike. To your absolute shock, after the embrace with his mother and father, he hurried over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Hey, kid. Glad you’re okay.” You plucked his hat off, ruffled his hair, and sat the giant thing back down. He beamed up at you and then continued on his journey of relieved greetings. You spotted Daryl watching you and shrugged. Sometimes you thought Carl didn’t even realize you were around. There were few words spoken between you and the kid, even though you did talk quite a bit with Lori. 

You’d slept so much the day before but you found yourself exhausted, feeling slightly nauseous. You’d told Daryl about the medication. Had he mentioned it during the discussion of where to go next? Leaning against the bike, you watched him rationalize with the others on a plan.  

He seemed calmer around everyone, not so eager to gain distance. He glanced back at you now and again, looking away when he realized you were still watching him. You couldn’t seem to find it within you to be embarrassed. Maybe you could blame exhaustion or pregnancy. 

“Y/N?”

“Huh?” You stood up straight only to find everyone looking at you now. Did Daryl just smirk at you? “Sorry, what’s going on?”

“We just wanted to get your opinion.” Carol smiled, small and tired, but knowing. Everyone probably saw you gawking at your baby daddy. 

“Whatever Daryl says is fine by me.” The implications of your statement were lost on you until the second the last syllable crossed over your lips. Even the archer had the decency to look surprised. Now you were embarrassed. An oil stain on the pavement became ever so interesting when you needed to look away. Your gaze remained there for the rest of the conversation. 

Daryl offered to find Andrea but was quickly shot down by Rick, saving you the trouble. Once T-Dog suggested east, Daryl agreed that main roads should be avoided. He walked by you to grab the crossbow from the back of the bike and quickly took down a walker before strapping the weapon back in place. 

“Watch out.” The hunter carefully nudged you aside and climbed onto the bike. 

“Want me to ride with some of them?” You pulled your flannel tighter and hugged yourself against the chill. You were definitely not dressed for the weather. 

“Nah, you’re with me.” He replied from around his thumbnail. He was eyeing your attire, knowing for certain you weren’t dressed for how cold the nights would get. You knew it too. He said he wouldn’t let anything happen to you or the baby. That meant finding medication and clothing. “Don’t care what we’re doin’ or where we are, if we’re both there, you’re with me ‘less I say otherwise. Understood?”

“Okay.” You acquiesced with a nod and climbed on, grateful for the natural heat of the archer’s body. You would have sighed if it wouldn’t just raise other questions. When the bike began moving, you continued to keep your hold loose but buried your face again, not only shielding your skin from the cold air but also effectively hiding the small smile you wore. 

Daryl pulled the bike off at Rick’s signal, asking if he was out of gas. Your hold on him remained until he patted your interlocked fingers and waved for you to climb off. You tried to keep your teeth from chattering while everyone talked—argued, really—about staying or going. 

Rick had killed Shane. The deputy hadn’t been very forthcoming with the details but your lack of interest regarding the man’s death told you exactly where you stood. You were never a fan.

“Look, I don’t care who goes today or tomorrow, but m’goin’ cause Y/N needs that medicine.” 

“I can go with you.” You offered, following Daryl toward the selected camp area. When he stopped, you nearly collided with his back. He turned without looking at you, not at first. When he did, his expression was stern. The hand he brought up to grasp your chin was quite the opposite. 

“Remember what I said? You’re with me ‘less I say otherwise.” You nodded. “This one’s otherwise. Need ya to stay here tomorrow. You’re gonna be sick by then, I reckon. Distracted. Need ya safe.”

You kept your gaze locked with his. “Okay.” You conceded easily, almost smiling at the naked relief in his eyes. “Would—would you get me a jacket? Maybe some—some maternity clothes?”

The archer scrunched his nose, releasing his hold on you. “Tell Maggie ‘bout the clothes. I’ll find ya the meds an’ a jacket.” He turned away, but you called his name before he could make it far. You weren’t sure he’d accept the contact after yesterday’s fiasco, but you placed your arms around his neck, your face tucked against his shoulder. 

“Thank you.” He hummed and nodded in response, quick to end the embrace and disappear past the treeline. He was likely gathering firewood. He wouldn’t be hunting. He was too adamant about you staying with him to go far. 

The archer was shaken by the events of the previous night, whether or not he cared to admit it. Maybe not the walkers or the loss of the farm; maybe not even the deaths. He was worried for you and his baby. It shone clear in the way he looked at you, the way he wanted to keep you close. The unwanted but familiar insecurities came creeping in, compounding on top of your already unsettled stomach. Was he just looking out for the baby?

“Maggie?” Your voice came out quiet and unsteady but you still managed to snag her attention. “Daryl said you’re going tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” She stepped away from Glenn with a lingering touch on his arm, making sure he knew she was still there. “Don’t worry. I know what medications you need and we’ll find them. We’ll find something.”

You nodded without meeting her eyes. “Thank you but he told me to ask you about clothes. These,” you pulled at your t-shirt beneath the flannel, “won’t be warm enough. And I’ll get—bigger.” You made an awkward gesture around your abdomen with both hands. 

“You’re glowing, you know.” The look on your face must have been reason enough for her to giggle and place a hand on your bicep, squeezing ever so gently. “Pregnancy suits you. Don’t worry. I’ll find you some clothes. Shoes too, cause your feet are gonna swell. You’ll thank me later.”

“My feet?” You squeaked, looking down at your boots. “Thumper, be nice to mommy’s feet. I need those.”

You weren’t feeling well at all by the time the sun began to dip below the horizon. The night air was cold, even with your proximity to the fire Daryl continued to feed. Your stomach was a rolling mess of knots. You managed some water but even that threatened to make a reappearance. 

Daryl hadn’t hunted. He wouldn’t leave you behind, especially when you started feeling unwell. The group had not been happy, offering to sit with you and to not let you out of their sight. It wasn’t good enough for him. He knew anything he managed to bring back would be of no benefit to you. 

When you tried to send him off, he pinned you with the same look he’d given you at the farm before he had turned away and yelled for you to leave. You raised your hands in defeat and walked away.  

Now, a few hours later, you were glad he hadn’t left. Even with all the people around you, there was a suffocating tension around that campsite. Had you been left under their guard, you likely would have ended up in the middle of the venomous arguments and snarky jabs. You just didn’t have the energy. 

You were a silent spectator during Daryl’s conversation with Carol, his defense of Rick. The man in question came around the wall that sheltered the group, tense words once again shared. You couldn’t take part, couldn’t even begin to grasp what was being shared, crawling to a spot at the perimeter to empty the liquid contents of your stomach. The heaving was painful and left you gasping and spitting with a hand clutching the shirt over your belly, as if protecting the life inside you from your own body’s revolt. 

“Y’alright?” Daryl drawled from somewhere beside you. You nodded slowly, even if it was the furthest thing from the truth. The added stress seemed to have taken its toll. You somehow made it upright to your knees, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. One look at the archer’s face made it evident that he wasn’t buying it. “Let’s getcha settled for the night.” It wasn’t a question in need of answering. It wasn’t even a suggestion. 

“I’m not sure I can walk that far.” The longing for the warmth of the fire was substantial but not enough for you to even try to send the signals for your legs to cooperate. 

“Didn’t ask ya to.” Had you felt a little more human, you might have wallowed in the indignation of him gathering you up to relieve you of the bothersome, albeit short, walk to the fireside. You were deposited slightly closer than when you’d taken a seat on your own. The warmth was intense and welcome but still not enough to battle the cold that had taken root within your bones. 

“Thanks.” You muttered through a deep sigh. The group was now sitting in relative silence, all but Carl still awake. Your own eyes were heavy within moments. You chose to submit to it and laid over on your side. The ground was freezing but what could you do? It hardly mattered anyway, as your eyes closed and you drifted off almost immediately. 

You awoke with a deep breath that morphed into a yawn. It appeared everyone was asleep with the exception of Glenn and Maggie up on the wall. It was pleasantly warm, just the slightest bit of cold seeping in here and there. Maybe you could just coax your mind back into slumber. Stretching a leg to seek out a more comfortable position, you realized something was keeping you from moving. 

“Be still, woman. Jesus.” 

You froze, briefly holding your breath. Daryl was lying beside you with his back pressed against yours, acting as your own personal space heater. There was a part of you—a rather large part that you’d like to punch in the throat—that wanted to roll over and curl into the man. He was warm. You already knew he ran hot, you’d been pressed against him in more pleasurable ways than this. 

Violently beating down the urge to spoon with the archer, you cleared your throat, knowing your voice would be rough from sleep and vomiting. “Thank you.”

“Ain’t nothin’. You were cold, saw ya shiverin’.” He shifted slightly. “Gotta take watch soon. Ya gonna be alright?” 

You nodded with a quiet mhm already missing his warmth though he had yet to move. You would be fine, of course. Nauseous with a headache the size of Montana but not dying. That qualified as alright, right? 

You let your eyes close, too exhausted to sleep any longer but the feeling of warmth and safety was enough for you to at least relax. All too soon, the cold air struck against your back, coaxing a quiet whine from your throat. Rolling to your back, your bottom lip jutted out into the most exaggerated pout you could possibly achieve. 

Daryl looked down as he strapped his crossbow onto his back. He snorted. Mission accomplished. 

Almost. 

“Can I go with you?” You sat up, scratching your lower belly. Damn, it had itched lately. Maybe you should ask for some lotion too. You could see the exact moment when automatic refusal died on his lips, his eyes flitting down to where your fingers grazed lightly over your abdomen. 

“Well, c’mon then.” Daryl needlessly adjusted the strap of the weapon, running his thumb over his bottom lip while he waited. The beaming smile you gave him spread across your face before you even gave it permission. You didn’t even ask before grabbing his arm to pull yourself up. He huffed but you caught the one corner of his mouth lifting before he looked away. 

“Lead the way, my good man.” You waved your arm forward and stepped aside so you could fall in behind him. He was shaking his head with a huff of air through his nose that really could have been a laugh. 

“Your good man, huh?”

You stumbled within the first three steps, his words catching you off guard. His large hand easily caught your upper arm, keeping you on your feet. You scowled in the face of his smirk. “I never liked you.” You jested with a light punch to his shoulder. 

Smirk still in place, he nodded toward your belly. “Ya liked me well ‘nough at one point.” You had no comeback, your mouth opening and closing like a fish. He gently squeezed your arm before letting go, walking away like he hadn’t just taken the upper hand and used it to drop the mic. 

Face scrunched, you fought back a smile before the battle was no longer necessary. Your eyes traveled from his shoulders, down his back, lingering on his ass before continuing the journey to his boots and back up again. Images of your first few encounters slammed into the forefront of your mind. You gasped quietly, the memories so vivid that you could almost feel him deep inside of you. Remembering how he grunted and panted, his large hands exploring every inch of you. 

“Gonna check the perimeter. You two good for now?” Daryl called up to the couple on the wall, snapping you out of your reverie. You paused behind him while the exchange took place, rubbing your thighs together to at least try and stifle the throbbing ache in your core. 

What the fuck,Y/N?! Get a grip! You followed on autopilot when he set off again, your mind racing. You were suddenly hot, nearly sweating; your mouth went dry. That damned throb at the apex of your thighs just would not relent. How could you go from sick and sleepy to depraved and horny? Oh, yeah. Pregnancy. 

“Stop lollygaggin’ an’ keep up.” Daryl snapped, thankfully not looking back at you. You could feel your skin heating, knew he’d find it flushed. A sense of shame attempted to overwhelm your sudden desire. You were ogling the archer like a piece of meat dangled over a lions’ den. “What’re ya starin’ at?” He asked absentmindedly, removing his crossbow to carry it at his side. 

“Nothing.” You replied a little too quickly, your voice low and breathy. That got his attention. He came to an abrupt halt and turned to eye you suspiciously. 

“Ya okay?”

You took a step back in tandem with his step forward, nodding vigorously even as your chest heaved. His head was tilted, eyes narrowed, looking as if he was solving a particularly complicated mathematical equation. 

“Ya sure?”

“Mhm!” Too enthusiastic, not very convincing. “I think,” you were nearly fucking panting as your back pressed against an inconveniently placed tree, “I’ll just head back.” You rolled against the bark to face the trail toward camp and your chest promptly collided with his arm when he blocked your exit. 

“Nuh-uh.” Daryl ducked his head, trying to catch your eye. “S’wrong with ya?” You didn’t answer; couldn’t really, what with trying to calm the lust flowing through your veins like molten lava. The taste of blood filled your mouth, the sting of your teeth piercing your lip was a welcome distraction. “Y/N.”

Stop talking. Stop looking at me. Where was this coming from? You had appreciated his handsome features and physical attributes plenty of times without the burning need to feel him pounding into you. Your eyes snapped toward him when the same hand that had met the tree to block you came to rest against your forehead. 

“You’re warm. Fever?”

“No.” Your voice trembled even more so than your body. You pushed his hand away as gently as you could manage, trying again to walk away. “I need to go back.” Fingers wrapped around your wrist. 

“Nah, not alone. I’ll ta—”

Your mouth was on his so fast that he staggered back. You heard his crossbow hit the ground, felt his muscles tense. He didn’t react for a moment that seemed to last forever but when he did, it wasn’t what you were hoping for, what your body was craving. You whined heatedly, attempting to pull him back to you by tugging his vest. 

“Th’fuck, woman?” Daryl didn’t sound angry. Far from it. He sounded confused. And unfortunately for you, the ache between your legs had chased away any semblance of dignity you might have once had. “You’re sick, exhausted. What the hell?”

“I need—” You whined, rubbing your thighs together while your hands pulled at his clothes. He wasn’t trying to stop you. He wasn’t doing much of anything actually. Just studying you with that stoic expression while you were about to all but beg him to fuck you senseless. “Daryl, I need—”

“Tell me whatcha need.” His tone was soft, like he was genuinely trying to understand.  

“You.” Your eyes were shining, wide and wet. “I don’t know—it just—I was fine and then—”

“S’hormones.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture delicate. You wanted to kiss him and slap him at the same time. 

“Damn you and your book.” You growled. You weren’t really sure what you were expected to do now, what you expected him to do. You were friends. It wasn’t like he’d just acquiesce and fuck you sideways. When he walked away, you thought you might curl up on the ground and cry. Since when did desire become borderline painful?

A deep breath did little to aid you. Maybe you could slink off into a corner at camp and take care of things yourself. It would be awkward and you could get cau—

“C’mere.” 

You blinked at him while still trying to get your breaths under control. His crossbow was leaning against a different tree now. He was standing in front of it, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip again. You approached hesitantly, hands wringing the front of your shirt. 

“Daryl?”

Once you were within reach, he grabbed the edge of your flannel and pulled you forward, spinning you just before your body met his. Your back against his chest, you could feel him breathing on your neck, a fresh wave of arousal seeping from your core. You were sure your pajama pants were soaked at this point. 

“Daryl, are you—”

He shushed you against your ear, allowing the lightest brush of his skin over yours. “See that?” He wrapped one strong arm around you with his palm resting on your belly, the other hand lifting to point low to the ground behind where you had previously stood. “Perimeter line. Cans an’ shit to make noise.” His stubbled cheek rubbed against your neck. “One behind us too. Anythin’ or anyone comes through, we’ll hear ‘em.”

“Okay?” You shivered when you heard him inhale against your hair, taking in your scent. You nearly came from the thought of him enjoying the way you smelled. Then again, even with your sensitive senses, you found his scent calming. 

The hand over your stomach pressed just the slightest bit harder while his other hand slid up your side to cover your breast. The ache when he squeezed brought a moan out of you so quickly that he flinched behind you before chuckling. No longer wearing a bra until you could one that fit, he could feel your nipple harden, immediately shifting his hand so he could pinch the sensitive bud between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Ya sure s’me ya want takin’ care’a this for ya?” On the surface, he seemed ready and confident, already having knowledge of your body. His voice though, it was the most fragile, tiniest uncertainty filtering through. 

“Please.” You whined, feeling the evidence of his desire now pressing against your ass. 

“Say it then.” Daryl nipped at your pulse and soothed the skin with his lips and tongue. “Tell me ya want me.” 

You wanted him to keep talking, whispering against your skin in that gravelly rasp that was making your pussy clench and ache. Then again, you wanted him to shut the fuck up and get on with it already before you spontaneously combusted. 

“I want you. I need you, please.” Your body was so alive with need that you’d beg on your hands and knees if he asked. You groaned when he chuckled again, this time right against your ear. It wasn’t very long ago that you were shivering in front of a fire. Now you shivered while your skin burned for a completely different reason. Funny how that worked. 

“S’bout damn time.”

[asunflowerana]

Salmon - Inumaki Toge

summary: you always wanted to meet your soulmate; you just didn't thought he would have to save your life along the way.

warnings: soulmate!au, comedy, curse appearance (nothing frightening), and some good old fluff.

“Finish your soup, _____, you don't want to faint in front of your soulmate.” Says your grandmother, trying to persuade you to eat another portion of her still-warm pumpkin with ginger soup.

She’s been using this tactic since you were four, and to her delight, sooner or later you’d end up lifting your spoon and serving your empty bowl again. You can’t help your heart’s greatest desire, yearning for the day you’ll finally find the person who, according to other people’s experiences, will brighten up your whole world.

It sounds almost like something out of a fairytale, your destiny tied to someone especially made it to love you. To be honest, you wouldn’t believe it if it weren’t for the bold letters embedded on your wrist since the beginning of your life. The “soulmate brand”, as your grandmother once explained — the literal first words your soulmate will say to you. Each person has it somewhere on their skin, and nothing, absolutely nothing, can erase it, as the mark is part of your entire being as much as your beating heart is. 

“Will you grant me this dance? ” is your grandma’s brand, the first words your grandfather said to her after gazing for a long time at the prettiest woman he has ever seen around the neighborhood festivals.

And the brands are varied, but they usually make sense for a first meeting, from simple “Hi” and “Excuse me”s, to “Would you like some coffee?”. Well, most of them are understandable, but there are some not-very-funny cases, like yours, that they’re completely senseless.

“Salmon” hides under the long sleeve of your shirt. 

What does “salmon” have to do with all this? Why not something simpler, like a “nice to meet you”?

You’ve created so many theories over time, trying to find a logical scenario where this would be a first-thing sentence. Maybe your future partner is a cook, and he’ll prepare you a Baked Salmon; or maybe he’s a fisherman, trying to sell you one of his late products; or maybe, you’ll work as a waitress at a seafood restaurant, and he’ll just order the best fish of the restaurant. Sometimes you laugh at yourself, just imagining one of these scenes actually happening.

You know that finding soulmates takes time, but if you could only get a hint. Almost all of your friends already found their partners, so why haven’t you? You sincerely don’t care about appearance, or culture, you just want to meet your “universe’s best gift” and understand why the heck his first words to you is a marine fish.

Months pass by, and still, nothing comes your way. You can count on hope, and move forward with your life.

As you finish your second bowl of soup, you wish your grandma a good day and pack your purse to head off to the library two blocks away. The historic building is the best place to spend your autumn afternoons, sitting on a comfy armchair with a book in hand and a tasty hot chocolate along the way. However, your oasis received an interesting addition in the past weeks: something, or rather, someone, has been catching your attention. You don’t know the new customer’s name, but from what you’ve observed (stared, to be frank), he enjoys a lot of mythical books, and prefers to sit alone at a table. 

You know you shouldn't be spending time trying to take note of someone else’s life, but there’s something about him that attracts your mind and takes your eye's attention off the book. It could be the fact that he always wears his coat’s collar up to his mouth, his intriguing grayish hair, or the shape of his beautiful purple eyes that perfectly match his face. 

Okay, maybe you’re noticing too much. 

Sometimes you catch yourself daydreaming about a date with him. He seems like someone polite, even if you never heard him speak. But you don’t have the courage to start a conversation with him, he’s just so… focused on his reading, you wouldn't want to intrude. And besides, a guy like him probably has a girlfriend already.

You return to your previous reading, and by the middle of the sunset, you leave for your house. Grandma said she was going to the supermarket early, so you weren’t surprised to find the place empty when you entered.

But you were surprised when you spotted a finger on the dinner table.

As an instinct, you grab the white porcelain vase from the shelf near the doorway and use it as a protection, your gaze scanning every spot of the living room, and every room of the house. You frown, not finding anything broken or messed up, and the windows are all closed. How did a human finger get on the dinner table then? As far as you know, your grandmother only collects shells.

You type 911 on your phone, anxious by the whole creepy situation, eyes, and ears alert to any signal. While the call is on hold, you approach the table to inspect the unknown finger: It isn’t fresh or dripping with blood, but it strangely looks well-preserved, not marks of degradation. A wave of shivers runs through your body.

“What’s your emergency?” A female voice says through the call.

“Hi, I-”

In one second, your body is thrown hard against the wall by an incomprehensible force. The hit is all your senses can figure out, the sudden pain increasing on your right side while potent dizziness takes over your brain. Fallen on the wooden floor, you take the last of the strength that remains in your muscles to look for what hurt you.

You immediately wish you didn’t make that decision, for you wouldn’t face the haunting creature staring in your direction. A monstrous black shape slowly approaches you, a mouth full of sharpened teeth, and a single lifeless white eye glazed at your form. It mumbles unfamiliar words as it levitates above the floor, a horrid sound that makes you tremble in pure panic.

Is this how you’re gonna die?

Suddenly, you hear the sound of the window breaking into dozens of glass shards, caused by a human form that lands inside your house. You swear, from a quick glimpse, that is the library man five feet away from you, but maybe you’re too dizzy to actually see right. Scared, your eyelids close, and you can only hear the sounds of furniture falling and the creature’s terrifying shrieks. It’s a vivid nightmare, one that you can’t wake up from, but that fortunately ends.

You only open your eyes when you feel two warm, human hands gently holding your shoulders, filling you with the hope that the creature it’s gone. Your gaze widens at the face of your savior.

“It’s you.” You whisper, and unknowingly to you, your sentence is exactly the same words embedded in Inumaki’s wrist. His eyes widen as he realizes it, being able to contemplate the unnatural glow that comes out of your being, the glow that only soulmates can find. 

He found his soulmate.

“Salmon.”

And so did you.

a/n: not gonna lie, this is probably my favorite creation so far. hope enjoy it and giggle with it as much as I did.

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[braveasnouns]

ANIMAL ARMY BACKGROUND MEMBERS!!

this is not an exhaustive list and some of them i’m not sure of the names but i tried :D! all are up to interpretation as they are not listed on IMDB, credits or any official source as far as i can tell!

and this is really only focused on scenes from S1 as nobody apart from Bear, Tiger and Pony are shown very clearly past that (or shown uhh.. alive, anyways...)

in no particular order:

Flamingo! very prevalent and recognizable in and out of costume for their bright pink hair

Bluejay! they could be a different type of blue bird but they do look like a bluejay and i love that name! you can see them wearing denim on denim as a way to represent the blue even out of animal costume! very cool

and standing next to Bluejay in the main scenes is Leopard! shown clearly quite a bit compared to some others and i really love the commitment to this outfit its very awesome

Gazelle. they show up very briefly (only in this one shot clearly) but their look is one of my favorites for sure!! So cool and unique

a red bird, while most people connect the image of a red bird with Robins and Cardinals which it very well could be, with the darker red and dark beak i could also see them trying to be Tanager, Finch or Apapane bird. there's really no way to know if they were even given a specific bird type in production but those would be my guesses!

Elephant!! Im guessing it was just from using whatever resources around them but i really love how their ears look weathered, like an elephant who has been through battles as they have

i like to think this is Vulture!! and that’s so cool to me as a name and persona! it just started in my mind because they stand next to each other but i like to think that Vulture and Elephant are siblings and found the animal army together :))

Panda! the most prominently shown other than the main four, you see them in the very first shot of the animal army and they have watch over Jepp when he is tied up. it all makes me think they were a member earlier on and very trusted

Raccoon (left) and “Red” panda (right). Since we already know that there's for sure someone named just panda i would assume this character goes by red as a nickname even if their animal army name is officially Red Panda. I also thought it was funny how in the same scene Raccoon kept appearing and disappearing from the background on the tree ledge, im sure it was just a filming thing but so on brand of them tbh

i think this would be Orangutan! that name is seen one of the walls. they are one of the ones holding back daisys chains and are seen in the very first scene of the animal army as well.

I believe this is Bison! From what i could tell they are only shown in this shot in the background until they zoom over to Panda and i didnt see them in any scenes after that clearly. there is writing on one of the walls that says Bison and thats the only reason i don’t say Cow or Bull, still could be though! I wish we got to see more of them because its very cool

This should be Porcupine! They are hardly shown and it was hard to get a real picture of them. kinda interesting that we do have a porcupine hybrid child later on too, Porcupine you probably would have loved to meet Otto

i just started calling this Bird because i can’t figure out what type they are, and i think its kinda fun to think they were the first bird member (after flamingo) and just like birds generally :)

Zebra! shown prominently in the main scenes and one of the people given the responsibility of opening daisys containers doors. kinda terrifying outfit so good job Zebra

I think this is Peacock! they are quite literally shown for less than 2 seconds in all lol

slightly perplexing...Otter, Weasel, even Vole, Mink or Loris? lots of possibilities and im so not sure

Armadillo i'm pretty certain of! They are one of the ones holding daisy’s chains and I couldn't really figure out who they were in other scenes when they are not in their full outfit since their face is mostly covered 

I believe this is Hyena but its quite hard to say for certain, but it does say “heyena (do you see what i did there)” on the animal wall so i could totally see this being them! they also hold daisys chains

Rabbit! they're cool i'm very curious as to the materiel of their mask

Bobcat?

Falcon I like to think, also holding daisys chains

i am saying this is Crow because i really want it to be

thats pretty much all for S1 but there are also things on the walls like "killawhale" and a lion drawing which is probably from canon members not shown in their full animal army outfits as well!

[caitwritesao3]

I love finding random drafts I forgot about. Here’s a tumblr exclusive. Rated: M

“Hey hey hey! Look!” Bart slapped Conner’s arm repeatedly, speeding up with each smack.

Kon gripped the speedster’s wrist threatening to bend it at an awkward angle. “What?” Bart’s finger wiggled over to the round kitchen island that sat in the middle of the room. “You’re hungry go make food yourself.”

“Nooo! Phone!” Bart let out an exasperated sigh. Kon shrugged still not following the redhead. “Tim’s phone!”

“Okay?” Conner dragged the word out. His eyes shifting between the phone and Bart’s overly wide eyes.

“He never! Never leaves his phone unattended! Let alone unlocked!!” Bart zoomed over to the island and back, Tim’s phone firmly in his hand. The photo on the Home Screen was of the Gotham city skyline at dusk.

Kon scooted away from the other lips pressed tightly together. “Bart, put it back…”

Bart had already thumbed open a few of Tim’s socials. Next was his texts and email apps before opening the photos app. “Seriously Impulse, put it back!” Kon hissed through his closed teeth. His head half turned listening for Tim.

“Oh come on, it’s goody two shoes Tim. What is the worst he could hav…. Oh!” Bart’s face turned as red as his hair. “Oh…”

Curiosity got the better of the super when he heard Bart’s heart rate accelerate. He snatched the device the tips of his own ears heating as he stared at the photo.

It was a selfie, taking from a high wide shot angle of Tim lying in the middle of a bed, his tangled hair blending into the wrinkled bed sheets. Pretty pale porcelain skin covered in a thin layer of sweat, hickeys in verious colors and sizes littered his chest. Around Tim’s neck was thin chain collar, a heart shaped tag dangling from it read ‘Little Red’.

Conner swiped to the next photo without a second thought. Tim on all fours clearly in between someone’s legs, cloudy spit dripping from his open mouth. His bright baby blues staring directly into the camera.

There were a few more photos from the angle tho as Kon swiped back it showed Tim sucking whoever was behind the phone off. “Damn,” Bart’s meek voice scared him for half a moment. “Lucky guy.”

Twisting his lips Kon shook his head flicking the screen to the right. A few photos of Gotham, one of Tim smooshing some city hall officials at a gala. They started to relax seeing normal things until Conner stopped in a video dated two weeks ago. The thumbnail black.

His eyes flicked up to Bart who swallowed hard before nodding. Static cracked through the speakers before the phone was lifted. Pointed down at Tim who was on his knees, hands held behind his back the red ropes elegantly tied around his upper body.

The freehand in Tim’s hair yanked on the strands pulling his head back. Tim’s mouth remained open his tongue flatting out. White streaks shot from off screen painting Tim’s face. Tim kept his mouth open, glazed over eyes turned up in attention to whoever was above him.

The head of a cock swiped through the mess on Tim’s cheek, gathering the come and pushing it onto Tim’s waiting tongue. “So fucking pretty. All fucking mine!” A familiar deep voice rumbled causing Bart to squeak a hand flying over his mouth. Bart shook his head in disbelief.

Conner’s mouth went dry the phone shaking in his hand. There was no way. No fucking way. Kon flicked the video off screen his face going white at the photo that appeared.

Tim smiling at the camera his hand raked into Jason’s hair from the back, holding him close. Jason grinning his focus on Tim as he licked the side of Tim’s face.

Behind them someone cleared their throat, it was followed by the sound of a gun cocking. Bart and Conner froze glancing at each other before daring to slowly turn around.

Tim stood arms crossed on his chest, head slightly cocked with a frown on his lips. Pressed right against Tim’s back was Jason, in full Red Hood gear including the mask, with his nine millimeter pointed at them.

“H-Hey Red Robin!” Bart nervously chuckled hands moving up in surrender. “Hood, good to see ya again.”

Jason’s voice modifier in his mask enhanced the growl he let out. Tim rolled his eyes disarming Jason, twirling the gun around his hand as he rounded the couch.

Conner looked up to see Tim’s gloved hand outstretched. Clicking the screen off Kon handed the phone over avoiding any contact with Tim. “Tim I-”

Tim sighed cutting Kon off as he pocketed his phone. “Soooo,” Bart opened his big mouth. “You and Hood huh?” Kon mumbled idiot under his breath.

“If either of you say anything…” Jason leaned over the back of the couch gripping both of their shoulders.

“You’ll kill us! Yeah we got it.” Conner shrank under the pressure.

Jason took a step back, “No I won’t. He will though.” He pointed to Tim who smiled a little too sweetly at them. The fingers of the hand holding the gun up waving.

“But he’s bullet proof-ish.” Bart stupidly ran his mouth again. Jason hummed digging through his cargo pocket before showing them a small box with three kryptonite bullets inside.

Conner dropped his face into his hands. “God damn it.”

Tim didn’t say a word as he exited the room, dragging Jason by his elbow after him. “Tim wouldn’t actually hurt us right?”

“Bart for the love of god shut the fuck up!” Kon beat the speedster with a couch pillow before running out of the room.

Bart pouted leaning back against the arm rest. “So much for goody two shoes.”

[gothicknightz]

family ties | ethan landry

notes: oh boy you guys are gonna like this one. VERY MAJOR SCREAM SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!!!!!!!!!! I cannot get any more specific than that.

part 2 out now!

When she moved to New York with her best friend, they both had planned on getting an average college education, having fun, and graduating. 

That was it.

Why couldn’t it have been that simple?

The four of them were stranded in the abandoned lobby of the theatre when Sam had gotten a call from the Detective, claiming that he had done some digging into Kirby and that she was let go from the FBI a couple of months ago for being mentally unstable, and he believes she is the killer.

She quickly turned her attention towards Sam, “What?” She snapped, her arm still wrapped up from her paired attack alongside Mindy on the subway. 

Putting a foot down, she crossed her arms, “There’s no way we can stay here.” Attempted to try the entrance in which they came in, to find out it was locked, “Shit.” She turned around quickly to face the, “It’s locked.”

The group frantically looked for a way out of the theatre, as they weren’t going to be trapped with the possible killers. Tara had noticed some sort of fire escape, but that wasn’t until Ghostface appeared and attacked the group, which they fought back. 

Chad decided it was a good time to be a hero, as he fought against Ghostface so that the girls could run. This proved to be a bad decision for him, as a second Ghostface came up and started stabbing alongside the other before ushering the trio back into the theatre.

As the five of them make their way back into the theatre, Kirby suddenly reappears out of nowhere and claims that she was knocked out by two Ghostfaces, but the trio can’t trust her after the Detective’s claims, who arrives subsequently after Kirby.

After what seemed to be a battle for trust, the Detective shoots Kirby, revealing himself as the third killer.

(y/n) screams as she was the closest, her heart racing in anticipation, afraid of what was going to happen next when the other two Ghostfaces de-mask themselves. Subsequently, after the Detective reveals himself to be the third killer, the Ghostface wearing Nancy Loomis’ mask revealed himself.

It was Ethan, (y/n)’s best friend. The friend she had planned on getting a college education and graduating with. The friend she had known for years, the friend who was responsible for their firsts.

Somebody she had trusted.

It was then revealed that Quinn was the final Ghostface, much to everyone’s shock, as they had seen and heard of the brutal murder Quinn had endowed.

The trio was cornered at each end by the three killers, with Sam slowly connecting the pieces that all three of the killers were related to none other than Richie Kirsch, one of the killers of the Woodboro Massacre in 2022.

As the trio was attacked and coerced back to the center of the theatre by the killers, the Detective sighed, “It wasn’t until I saw that photograph of what you had actually done to him, that I knew.”

“That I knew you had to fucking die- that you had to be punished, along with anyone else who stands in our way.”

Pushed and insulted by Quinn, Sam, and Tara were forced to stand in front of the Detective, with Ethan taking hold of (y/n), and holding a knife to her throat.

As the Detective went on about how he indulged in his son’s love for the Stab movies, and how they were a bit dark for him, he explained that there was no deeper bond than of a father and his firstborn.

“Despite the loss of Richie, I couldn’t have been happier after learning of a new addition to our family.”

The look on both the sisters’ faces was beyond puzzled as they watched the detective make grandiose gestures as he waved the gun in (y/n)’s direction.

“I knew it was a bit young for those two to get hitched, but,” the Detective paused, taking a breath for a brief smile, “She made it a lot easier to get us in here, and I’ve never been more proud of a future daughter in law, right (y/n)?”

The Carpenter sisters had another round of fear and shock as they turned their heads to one of the closest friends the gang had had, with even Mindy trusting them.

(y/n) was breaking away from a kiss with Ethan as Tara and Sam watched them in awe, the girl breaking into a fit of giggles and a content sigh.

“You know, Sam,” She said, turning towards the illegitimate daughter of the original Ghostface with her boyfriend slash fiance’s knife in hand, “You should really save the date.” She took a swing at the eldest Carpenter sister and laughed.

“Because it does fucking run in the family.”

[gretavanflame]

The Elevator

Jake Kiszka x Reader (f)

Cw: SMUT including: kissing, fingering, handjob, oral (m) receiving. Other content including: cursing, drinking, fear, panic attack, anxiety, claustrophobia, brief mention of alcoholism.

Summary: “You’re funny Y/n. I can’t believe it's taken getting trapped in an elevator for us to finally talk to each other.” 

Word Count: 3.5k

You check your watch as you run hurriedly into the elevator, almost tripping as you make your way inside. The doors start to close and you take a breath. Your eyes find the little numbers starting to go up and the elevator stops when you reach the third floor.

You pull out your phone to avoid the usual awkward elevator encounter and you see the shoes of a man as he enters and takes his place beside you. What catches your attention however are the familiar brown chelsea boots. You feel a familiar lump appear in your throat everytime you run into your apartment crush. It's the stupidest thing really, this thing you have for a man who you’ve only ever seen in passing. To be fair, he's one of the most attractive people you have ever seen, and he has this way about him where he'll look at you like he's in love even if he doesn’t know you. It's captivating to say the least.

You finally force yourself to look up, praying that no garbage spews out of your mouth as you do so. You take him in inch by inch. His blue jeans, one hand tossed loosely into the pocket and a sailors knot bracelet tied around his wrist. He wears a black button down which ties together dangerously low by only a single button and you swallow as you notice his perfectly tanned chest with a single coin necklace hanging down it. His chestnut hair falls in loose curls around his shoulders and his lips are pursed as he glances at his own phone, but when you finally get to his perfect chocolate eyes, he turns to meet yours. You quickly turn away with your heart thumping embarrassingly in your chest. Out of the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of that stupid smirk of his as he shakes his head, returning his attention to his phone.

Focusing your attention away, you return to the number. Three then four. Only two more floors until you make it home to your cat who desperately needs to be fed. You check your phone again, an anxious habit, and see that the time is 10:23pm. Not the latest you’ve been home this week, not the worst.

The elevator jolts a little and you look up to see Jake’s similar puzzled expression. You weren’t on the next floor already, right? Your heart drops into your stomach and you feel the panic start to set in as you realize that you are not indeed at the next floor, but rather stopped in between them.

It feels childish to say, but this is quite literally your worst fear and one of the main reasons you debated moving into this apartment at all - the lack of stairs. Suddenly the 4 metal walls feel like they're closing in on you and the reality that you're trapped inside them starts to send you into full blown panic. 

You should be acting like such a baby, you think. Elevators stop between floors all the time, in a couple seconds it should be moving again and then you’ll get home at a reasonable time to feed your cat. Or you’ll be stuck here for hours, or worse, the metal chords holding you inside of this death box could snap and you’ll plummet to your death next to the man you were too embarrassed to even talk to.

As you try to steady your breathing, you start frantically searching your bag for a water bottle. You must be practically heaving when you can’t find it because you feel Jake’s presence shifting to face you.

“Hey Y/N, are you alright?”

His words seem to glaze over your head. Part of you has heard them, but you can’t seem to generate words as your whole body feels like it’s shutting down. You force yourself to nod and you realize your hands are shaking and are covered in sweat as you lift them from your bag. You can tell he knows you’re bluffing and he takes a step closer.

“I’ll just press the help button. This has happened to me before, it's really no big deal.”

He smiles at you and your eyes meet him for the briefest second sending a warm chill up your spine. His hand reaches for the button to press for help and your eyes travel to his arm, the strong muscles under the rolled up sleeves.

You manage to nod your head and close your eyes trying to steady your breathing. You feel your chest rise and fall heavily and you step backward to lean your body on the wall. You stay there, trying to silence your breathing, but doing so only makes the problem worse and you can even hear yourself practically heaving for air.

It feels like the world might end and your chest starts to hurt as Jake turns to you again, this time looking much more concerned. 

“Really are you okay? It looks like you’re having a panic attack.”

You nod your head aggressively, unable to say much more.

“Okay how can I help?”

You try to speak, your words coming out broken and rushed, “I-I don’t know I don’t know.”

“That’s okay, it’s okay. Take a deep breath okay? I’ll do it with you.”

He reaches his hands out and places them on your arms. 

“Is this okay?”

You nod your head slowly, allowing yourself to take a deep breath while his touch soothes you.

“Okay just breathe in with me, alright Y/n?”

You nod again and watch as he inhales slowly then exhales. You follow his breathing and close your eyes and after a few minutes, you feel your heartbeat finally slow. A minute later you open your eyes to find him smiling back at you. He removes his hands and takes a step back.

Taking one final deep breath you say, “that was fucking embarrassing.” You try to play it off with a laugh but he shakes his head.

“My sister used to get them. Panic attacks I mean, so I'm used to them, and helping people out. Really you have nothing to be embarrassed of, not with me, I promise.”

“Okay.” You whisper, smiling at the man in front of you. “Um how do you know my name?”

He looks down, a blush appearing on his cheeks as he laughs. “Sorry I realize that might be a bit creepy. Well, the actual answer might still be creepy. I um- you live across the hall from me right? And I just see your mail sometimes, so, sorry…”

“Oh no it’s okay! I don’t think it’s creepy, I was just wondering. I know your name too, Jake, if that makes you feel any better.”

You both laugh together, meeting eyes for just a second before casting yours downward. Something about his stare feels so intimate, so knowing, like you’re long lost friends.

“So you said this has happened before?” You ask biting your lip and pulling off a tab of skin, an anxious habit.

“Yeah a couple times, but usually it gets moving after a couple seconds.. so I’m afraid we might be stuck here for a bit. I’m good company though I swear.” 

He smiles again and you huff out a nervous laugh. You look up again at the number, stuck in between floors. You reach out to press the help button again.

“Isn’t this supposed to make some sort of sound? Like an alarm?” 

“I honestly have no idea.”

“My cat is supposed to get fed.” You pinch your brows together, shaking your head at your own carelessness. “I should have just gotten home earlier, if only I had just-“

Jake cuts you off with a question. “What’s your cat's name?”

You giggle a little at the innocence of his question. If there’s one thing he’s doing well is keeping you from panicking.

“Her name is Lily, and she gets nervous. Just like I do I guess.” You laugh again, looking down at your feet.

“That’s a nice name. You have a nice name too by the way. Y/n. It flows off the tongue nice.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Your blush deepens. 

Jake looks around at the floor for a moment before shrugging and taking a seat with his back leaning against the wall. 

“If we’re gonna be here for a while we might as well get comfortable.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right.” 

You sigh as your reality for the next however long sets in. At least you’re stuck here with Jake, although he does make you slightly nervous just by being him. You walk over and take a seat to his right. You sit and place your bag on your lap as you lean your head back. 

You hear him rummaging in his own backpack and you turn to see him pulling out some sort of bottle. You laugh out loud when you realize what it is- tequila.

He’s laughing too and says, “I just realized I had bought this on my way home, you know, just to have, but I can’t think of a more appropriate moment.”

“You’re right, that is kinda perfect.” You let a warm smile stretch across your face and you see a similar look on his.

His teeth are so perfect you notice, and his smile lines are sculpted so nicely. His eyes as well bring you some comfort in this moment, and you watch his strong fingers untwist the cap.

“Alright. This won’t be fun.”

Jake scrunches up his face and takes a quick swig from the bottle. He pulls it away coughing and contorting his face. He hands you the bottle wordlessly and you grab hold of the handle to take a long swig.

You do so almost reactionless and his mouth drops open. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as he chuckles.

“Damn girl, I wouldn’t have expected that from you.”

“Unfortunately after discovering the cure for anxiety I've gotten pretty good at using it. I’m not like… an alcoholic or anything though.”

“No, yeah I understand. It’s impressive is all.”

In the next few minutes the two of you take turns passing the bottle around until you feel the familiar burn settle low in your stomach and the dangerous loosening of your tongue.

Before you can stop yourself the words tumble out of your mouth, “So do you have a girlfriend?”

Your forwardness takes him by surprise and he blushes, laughing slightly. “Um I don’t, no. How about you? Making some guy really lucky?”

Now it’s your turn to blush and you cast your eyes downward as you realize what you’ve said, but of course you can’t find it in you to care.

“No, I'm very single.”

“What’s very single?”

“I don’t- I shouldn’t.” You pause, looking at him and he gestures with his hand for you to continue.

You take another quick drink from the bottle. 

“I haven’t gotten any in a minute, I'll leave it at that.”

Jake turns his head away, laughing into his hand.

“You’re funny Y/n. I can’t believe it's taken getting trapped in an elevator for us to finally talk to each other.” 

“I know right! We’re friends now right? Because it would be weird if we went on after this to never speak again.”

“I think we’re friends, that is if you’ll have me of course.”

“Yeah of course Jake.” 

You both smile at each other for a beat too long before his gaze becomes too strong and you turn yours back to the wall. 

“How long do you think we’ll be in here for?” He asks.

A deep sigh escapes you and you turn to him feeling as though your head is light as a balloon.

“I don’t know Jake, I like talking to you so no offense, but I hope not much longer.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“How are we gonna pass the time?”

Jake thinks for a moment, taking another large swig before answering.

“I have an idea.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“Alright, close your eyes.”

You giggle and close your eyes. You sense something, heat coming towards you and a second letter you feel something soft touching your lip.

Your lips instinctively part and Jake takes your bottom lip in his, kissing it slowly. You tilt your head and kiss him back, breathing into his mouth while your hands find their way around his shoulders.

Your reaction is delayed and you pull away quickly, looking into his opening eyes with a heaving chest.

“Jake, what about cameras?”

He lets a smile graze his face. “You worry too much Y/n.”

You smile and pull him closer to kiss him again. What were soft gentle kisses turn into heated ones and you allow his tongue to slip past your lips. His hands come up to your cheeks, pulling you even closer into his parted mouth. A small moan is exhaled from him and a whine from you before he pushes away for a moment just to whisper, “I’ve had a crush on you since I moved in.”

Every set of your being is set on fire, a need for him overtaking you. 

“Me too Jake. I want you, please.”

“Now that’s the most sure you’ve seemed about anything since we’ve been talking.” He huffs a laugh. 

“Shut up.” You giggle, closing your eyes to let his lips meet yours again.

His hands slide down to your neck, then down your body over your chest to your waist. Jake stands to his knees and crawls in front of you, trapping you against the wall as you part your legs to make room for him. 

He pulls away for a second. “I don’t know if this is what you were thinking, but I don’t have a condom on me.”

You think for a moment. 

“That’s okay, just touch me, please.”

You watch his smile turn to a smirk as he brings his lips back to yours. His hands touch your thighs, sliding upward towards the bottom of your skirt that you realize was the perfect thing to wear today. You straighten out your legs and his hands reach the tops of your thighs. You can feel yourself pulsing in two places as Jake’s hand cups over your center. 

His tongue licks into your mouth through a moan and you start to rock against his hand, chasing the small bit of friction. With one hand on your thigh to steady himself, the other pulls your panties to the side and slides through your slit with his fingers. Your breath hitches through the kiss and you break it to look down at his hand.

The veins bulge out of it as he slowly pushes a finger in. You tilt your head back and close your eyes as he curls it inside of you, pulling it back to push another one in. You look back at him to watch as he too stares down at where his hand touches you. He curls both fingers into you and you whine his name into the small room.

Jake tucks his lip under his teeth, and you can hear his own breathing pick up as he starts to push and pull his fingers into you. A second later he brings his thumb up to your clit, dragging it across every time he moves his other fingers. Your legs begin to squirm, and your toes curl in your sneakers as you near your release. 

Your stomach tightens and you bite your lip harshly as the sensations wash over you. It’s at this moment that the absurdity of your situation kicks in, even through the swirl of tequila in your system, and you laugh, startling Jake. He tilts his head as if to ask what’s wrong, and you shake your head.

“Wait Jake, stop.”

He pulls his hand away immediately, looking concerned, and you reach for his belt. You look up at him innocently, trying to hide away your smile as you push it through the loop and unbutton the button and unzip the zipper. 

“Is this okay?” You whisper, the smile stretching wider across your face.

He breaths out a curse and nods his head, his eyes clouded with lust. He watches your hands pull down the pants and he helps you. Soon he's only in a pair of plaid boxers and you let your hand roam over his already hard bulge. Your fingers tuck into his waistband and you pull down until his cock springs free, bobbing in front of your face. 

You want to take it into your mouth, feel it shoved down your throat, but you also want his hands on you again, so you lean back and grab him, stroking his length up and down. He exhales loudly as you run your fingers over his tip and back down to the base. Your eyes catch on his pubic hair, matching the color of his wavy brown locks, you smile to yourself.

You make a show of spreading your legs for him, hiking up your skirt in the process so he has a good view. 

“Holy shit.” He whispers, letting his own head fall back momentarily while your hand gives him a little squeeze.

He brings his fingers back to your entrance, thrusting them forward with a pressure that reminds you of where you left off, and with his thumb circling your clit once more, you already feel halfway there.

In the small metal box, the heat rises as your bodies move in sync with each other, chests rising and falling rapidly as your hands work each other towards release. Every once in a while your lips will reconnect, tongues searching for one another desperately. He tastes like tequila and honey, and you moan into his mouth, waiting to feel him even more, if possible.

You let your hand pick up speed and he matches your tempo, bodies both eager to cum. You look down at the tendons in his arm flexing as he moves. You can feel his strength too in the way his fingers curl boldly with power. 

Through heavy breaths, Jake chokes out, sounding desperate and needy, “Come on Y/n, give it to me, pretty girl.”

His words hit you just right and soon your walls are tightening and you’re gushing his hand as your legs tremble and close around him. His name rolls off your tongue and your eyes roll back while his hand continues to move inside of you.

All it takes for him is the feeling of you cumming all over his fingers and he rushes out, “Where do you want me to cum?!”

Without thinking, you lean your face forward, mouth open. You bring his tip to your tongue and jerk him with your hand until he's shooting hot white spurts of cum all over your mouth. His hand slows and his cock twitches wildly in yours. He grunts with every exhale, whining finally as your mouth sucks around the tip of his cock, cleaning off any remaining cum.

You look up at him while you do so and watch as he brings his own cum covered hand to his mouth. He sucks on his fingers through a smirk and then leans down to kiss you once more. You both taste yourself on the others tongue, humming through the slow kiss. You can hear it too, the wetness of your mouths on each other.

You break away and stare into each other's eyes for just a moment. It feels intimate in a way that almost scares you. You both wait for the other to speak before something unthinkable happens. The elevator starts to move upward. A panicked look appears on both of your faces and you scramble to grab your bag and fix your appearance. Jake rushes to pull his pants back up, tucking his cock away while you smooth over your skirt and hair and turn towards the doors of the elevator.

To make matters worse, when the doors open, three firefighters are standing outside. The next few minutes are a blur, but the two of you finally finish talking to the men and explaining what happened, (them obviously sensing something weird between the two of you), before walking away.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” You repeat, finding yourself once again captivated by his stare.

“Crazy night huh?”

You giggle and nod along with him while you walk down your shared hallway.

“Listen, I’d love to meet Lily sometime, if you’ll have me, but I think I should sleep off this tequila and get ready for work tomorrow.” “I’d love to have you over Jake. Just knock, literally… just knock, I’m always home.” You chuckle.

You quickly type your number into his phone and he kisses you one more time on the lips while you blush. You turn and enter your apartments simultaneously, smiling and blushing at each other until the moment the doors close. You turn to your apartment, finding an angry cat meowing in front of you. You laugh and go to feed your cat, thinking still of the charming man in the elevator. 

.

.

.

[insomniac4000]

George Clarke was not your average gym-goer. Sure, he showed up four times a week, right on schedule, but it wasn’t because he was obsessed with bulking up or shredding down. That was just a bonus, the gym was more of a sanctuary for George—a place where he could clear his mind, focus on something tangible, and take a break from the relentless cycle of creating content.

Life as a TikTok and Youtube star had its perks, of course. George loved the excitement, the creativity, and most of all, the connection he felt with his fans. But there was an intensity to it that sometimes left him feeling drained. That’s why he cherished his time at the gym. Here, among the rows of dumbbells and treadmills, he could just be George, a guy trying to stay in shape and enjoy his workouts.

He had his routine down to a science. Mondays were for chest and triceps, Tuesdays for back and biceps, Thursdays for legs, and Fridays for shoulders and abs. He’d plug in his earbuds, crank up his favourite playlist, and get to work. The repetition was comforting, and over time, he’d come to recognize the regulars the same faces appearing day after day, each of them absorbed in their own world.

One face, however, had started to catch his eye more than the others.

She was new, or at least new to George. He first noticed her one chilly November morning, about three months ago. She had wandered into the gym with an air of confidence that suggested she wasn’t a beginner, but George had never seen her before. Dressed in sleek black leggings and a simple tank top, her hair tied back in a high ponytail, she moved through her routine with a focus that George admired. She was strong, no doubt about that. He watched as she effortlessly hoisted weights feeling comfortable while doing so and was engrossed in her routine, not bothered about anyone else at the gym, just like George.

It wasn’t just her strength that caught George’s attention. It was her smile, which she offered to the staff at the front desk as she checked in each morning. It was the way she seemed to tune out the rest of the world when she was lifting or on the treadmill, completely immersed in the moment. It was the way she caught him looking once, their eyes meeting for a split second before she looked away, a faint blush colouring her cheeks.

George didn’t know her name. She didn’t seem to be on social media, or if she was, he hadn’t been able to find her. But there was something about her that intrigued him, a mystery that he wanted to solve. He started timing his workouts to coincide with hers, subtly shifting his schedule so that he’d be there when she was. He didn’t want to come off as creepy or overly interested, but he couldn’t help himself. He was drawn to her in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

It was a rainy Thursday afternoon when fate finally intervened. George had just finished his third set of squats and was about to move on to lunges when he noticed her struggling with the leg press machine. She had loaded the plates onto the machine but seemed to be having trouble with the lever that locked it into place.

Without thinking, George walked over. “Hey, do you need some help with that?”

She looked up, surprised, and George felt his heart skip a beat. Her eyes were a deep, warm brown, and up close, he could see the faint freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks. She was even more beautiful than he had realised, George often joked he was incapable of speaking to women and he could feel his heart thumping as the adrenaline flowed through him.

“Um, yeah, actually,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “I think this thing is stuck.”

George leaned down and gave the lever a firm tug. It clicked into place easily, and he stepped back with a grin. “There you go. All set.”

She smiled, a little sheepishly. “Thanks. I’m usually fine with this stuff, but today it just wasn’t cooperating.”

“No problem,” George said. He was about to walk away when she spoke again.

“I’m Emily, by the way.”

He turned back, surprised. “George,” he said, holding out his hand.

She took it, and for a brief moment, George felt a spark of something more than just a handshake. “Nice to meet you, George,” Emily said, her smile widening.

“Likewise,” George replied, feeling a little awkward but thrilled all the same. “Do you come here often?” He then mentally kicked himself for asking such a stupid question.

Emily chuckled. “Sounds like a line, but yes, I try to come most days. You?”

“Yeah, same here. It’s kind of my escape, you know?”

“I totally get that,” she said, her expression softening. “I work in marketing, and sometimes I just need to get out of my head. The gym helps.”

“Same,” George said, though he didn’t elaborate on his career. Most people either knew who he was or they didn’t, and he found it refreshing when they didn’t.

They talked a bit longer, mostly about their favourite workouts and the best times to hit the gym when it wasn’t crowded. It was a light, easy conversation, and when they finally parted ways, George felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with his workout.

Over the next few weeks, George and Emily started to see more of each other at the gym. They’d exchange smiles or brief conversations between sets, and gradually, those moments turned into longer chats. George learned that Emily had moved to the city a few months ago for a new job, which explained why he hadn’t seen her before. She was originally from a small town up north, and she missed the quiet but was enjoying the excitement of the city.

“I didn’t know anyone here at first,” Emily confessed one day as they were cooling down after a workout. “But the gym kind of became my place, you know? It’s nice to see familiar faces, even if we don’t always talk.”

George nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. “Yeah, I felt the same way when I first moved here. The gym was where I found my rhythm. Plus my housemates are idiots so it's good to get away,” he joked.

They started meeting up outside the gym, too. It started innocently enough coffee after a workout, a smoothie on the way home. But soon, George found himself looking forward to those moments with Emily as much as he did his actual workouts. She was easy to talk to, funny, and grounded in a way that George found incredibly appealing.

And she didn’t seem to know who he was.

This was perhaps the most surprising thing of all. George was so used to being recognized everywhere he went, his online persona preceding him. But Emily seemed blissfully unaware of his TikTok fame. She treated him like just another guy, a guy she was getting to know, not a social media star.

It was a breath of fresh air.

It was a crisp winter evening when things began to change. George and Emily had just finished a particularly grueling workout as George was now training for a race for charity and were walking out of the gym together, their breath forming small clouds in the cold air.

“Want to grab dinner?” George asked, trying to keep his tone casual. “There’s this great Thai place just down the street.”

Emily hesitated for a moment, and George felt his heart drop. But then she smiled. “Sure, that sounds great.”

Dinner was wonderful, full of laughter and easy conversation. George found himself opening up to Emily in a way he hadn’t with anyone in a long time. He told her about his life, his family, and his love for creating content, though he still didn’t mention the extent of his online presence. Emily talked about her work, her friends back home, and her dreams of traveling the world someday.

As they walked back to their cars, George felt a nervous flutter in his stomach. This wasn’t just a casual friendship anymore—at least, not for him. He was falling for her, hard and fast, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

“So, Emily,” he began, his voice a little shaky. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Emily looked up at him, her expression curious. “What is it?”

George took a deep breath. “I—well, I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you these past few weeks. And I guess what I’m trying to say is, I think I’m starting to like you. A lot.” There was a pause, and for a moment, George’s heart pounded so loudly in his ears that he thought she might hear it. But then Emily smiled, and George felt a wave of relief.

“I like you too, George,” she said softly. “I was hoping you’d say something, because I’ve been feeling the same way.”

George couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “Really? That’s—that’s amazing.”

“But,” Emily continued, a hint of uncertainty in her voice, “there’s something I should tell you too.”

George’s smile faltered. “What is it?”

Emily took a deep breath, just as he had done moments before. “I know who you are, George. I’ve known for a while now. My friends sent me your TikToks ages ago, and I recognized you the first day I saw you at the gym.”

George was stunned into silence. “You—you knew?”

Emily nodded, her eyes searching his for a reaction. “I didn’t say anything because, honestly, I just wanted to get to know you as you. Not as ‘George Clarkeey, the guy on TikTok.’ And I’m glad I did, because the George I’ve gotten to know is incredible.”

George felt a rush of emotions—relief, happiness, and something else, something deeper. He reached out and took Emily’s hand, squeezing it gently.

“Thank you for that, Emily. It means more to me than you know. I wanted to be just me around you too, not the guy everyone sees online.”

"I think I would have been drawn to you anyway, famous or not because no one can resist you doing a squat," Emily giggled.

They stood there for a moment, the world around them fading away as they looked at each other. It felt like the start of something real, something that went beyond the likes and comments of the digital world. George had found someone who saw him for who he truly was, and that was worth more than all the fame in the world.

The days that followed were a blur of excitement for George. His relationship with Emily grew stronger with each passing day. They started spending more time together, not just at the gym but outside of it too. They explored the city, tried out new restaurants, and even spent quiet evenings at George’s place, where they could just be themselves.

For the first time in a long time, George felt truly content. He still loved making content and connecting with his fans, but now he had something—or rather, someone—who made his offline life just as fulfilling. Emily was becoming his confidante, his support system, and more importantly, his partner.

One evening, as they were watching a movie on George’s couch, Emily turned to him, a playful smile on her lips. “So, when do I get to make a cameo in one of your TikToks?”

George laughed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Whenever you want. But only if you’re sure you’re ready for the spotlight.”

“I think I can handle it,” she teased, snuggling closer to him. “But no pressure. I’m happy just being part of your real life.”

George kissed the top of her head, feeling a warmth spread through him. “You’re already the best part of it.”

And as they sat there, wrapped up in each other, George realized just how lucky he was. He had found something rare and beautiful—something that made all the hard work, all the late nights and early mornings, completely worth it.

He had found love, not in the flashy world of social media, but in the quiet, unassuming moments of real life. And he knew that, no matter what the future held, he and Emily would face it together, one set at a time.

[steelbonded]

Forced Integration (2)

Stewart lay helplessly on the street, pinned down by the boots of four officers from the New Republic. The soft rumble of an engine broke the early morning silence, growing louder until it screeched to a halt at Stewart’s position. It was a military truck, still in its original olive-green color but with the flag of the New Republic hastily stickered over the flag of the country Stewart had pledged his allegiance to. He used to drive these trucks in and out of the base, but this time, he knew he would be transported into the base and would never leave.

The ignition was turned off, and a soldier, garmented in the standard jet-black uniform of the Steelbound Republic, stepped out of the vehicle and saluted the lieutenant in charge of the operation.

“Private AO 9323 reporting, sir! The truck to transport the deserter back to base for re-education, sir!”

“Very well,” said the lieutenant. “Prep the pest for transport.”

Stewart felt two boots release from his knee and neck. With precise coordination, the two officers stood beside him, their rifles pointed directly at Stewart to ensure any questionable movement would be met with lead.

“Secured,” one of them reported.

The third officer released his boot and proceeded to secure Stewart’s hands behind his back with zip ties. Finally, the last boot pinning him down was released, and the two officers grabbed his shoulders and roughly pulled him to his feet, their grip on his arms firm and unyielding. Stewart winced in pain as he was forced to stand, his legs shaky from exhaustion. He glanced around, his eyes finally able to see his captors clearly for the first time.

His captors exuded an aura of menace and authority, their jet-black uniforms accentuating their muscular frames. Every piece of their gear was meticulously maintained, from the advanced helmets with reflective visors that obscured their eyes to the tactical vests bristling with ammunition and weapons. Their sleek, blackened body armor added to their intimidating presence, giving them an almost robotic appearance. Each one of them was nearly identical, except for their numbered name tags.

Their faces were partially hidden by black balaclava, with only their cold, calculating eyes visible, staring down at Stewart. These eyes, devoid of empathy, were all that remained of their humanity. The soldiers' postures were rigid and controlled, every movement deliberate, as if they had been trained for years to perfection. They exuded an air of ruthlessness, ready to follow orders without question, no matter how brutal.

Stewart kept staring at one of the officers, DF 9203. His eyes looked like those of someone he knew in his previous life. The distinctive scar on the top left corner of his eyelid could not conceal his true identity, even underneath the balaclava. It was Sergeant Fischer, his officer before the fall of his nation. Only his voice would serve as confirmation of his former identity. How could he betray his country and serve in the enemy’s forces?

A forceful hit to his back by the butt of a gun from DF 9203 snapped Stewart back to reality. “What the fuck are you looking at, pest?” he barked, his voice carrying the same unremarkable low octave pitch as the lieutenant's. Stewart couldn’t be sure if it was Sergeant Fischer.

“Sorry, sergeant,” Stewart accidentally blurted out.

Another blow to his back followed. “Respect fucken authority, maggot. I am a fucken sergeant, and you are a piece of uneducated pest. Speak only when spoken to.”

“Be fucken grateful the Republic is offering you a second chance,” barked another officer with a similar voice.

“Gentlemen!” came a voice from the other end. It was the lieutenant, and all the officers stood at attention. “He hasn’t seen our ways yet. He will soon be an unwavering defender of the Republic like yourselves, gentlemen.” He made a faint smile toward Stewart. “Order has been established, gents.”

The military truck rumbled back to life, its engine settling into a menacing growl. The back of the truck was open, revealing a steel cage-like structure. Stewart was pushed forward, stumbling slightly as the officers guided him toward the truck.

“DF 9203 and NC 9326, secure the asset back to base.”

“Yes, sir,” both replied immediately.

With that, the cage door was closed, and the truck began to move. Stewart’s fate was sealed as he was sent back to the base for re-education.

[feederheart]

I had caught her.

This was the third time she had shown up this month and this time, I didn’t have to wait for nearly an hour after I had closed up shop for her to finally show up. This time she appeared as if she were ready for a date. She adorned a nice dress that showed off all of her curves (especially her gargantuan belly that hung below her hips), she wore makeup for the first time, and her hair shined like a new car outside of its usual hastily-tied bun. Usually, I took the extra time to get cleaned up and change out of my chef’s uniform; I was covered in fruit preserves and my arms felt a little sticky. This time, however, I didn’t want to take my eyes off the beautiful enchantress before me. It was as if her planetary body came with a gravitational pull that had trapped my gaze.

“You got the goods?” she asked with more assertiveness than usual.

Her beautiful, dark eyes looked at me with intense hunger; it was equal parts arousing and terrifying.

“You’re making this sound like a drug deal,” I chuckled.

“C’mon, I’m hungry,”  she pleaded, my joke falling flat on its face.

“Alright, relax, I’ve still got you,” I said.

I already had exactly what she wanted; I had stashed all of the leftover pies by the rear door in anticipation of her arrival. I reached for the brown bags each containing four whole unsold pies and handed them to her.

“Got any more?” she asked.

“Really?” I asked, amazed by her gluttony; eight pies is a lot. “You want more?”

“They’re good!” she replied, blushing ever so slightly. “I mean- really good. You knocked these out of the park!”

Then it was my turn to blush; compliments for my cooking or baking are my heart’s kryptonite.

“Thank you,” I replied. “But I’m not sure if you can carry any more without dropping or crushing one.”

“How about I just ate one?” she suggested. “Before you threw the rest away.”

“Right here?” I asked, turning around and scanning the interior of the restaurant. “I don’t know, The Boss is strict about giving away food and I don’t want you on the security camera.”

I then pointed to the camera right above the back doorway.

“We’re lucky this one doesn’t work right or else I wouldn’t be able to sneak anything to you.”

“Th-that's okay, I’ll sit right here,” she replied matter-of-factly as she waddled a few steps forward and plopped her huge, round ass onto the floorboards of the rear porch. The wood creaked loudly and her fat spread out across the surface like thick pancake batter poured on the griddle. She then reached into one of the bags and grabbed a blueberry pie sitting on top of the surface along with a plastic fork.

I stared at her, unable to take my eyes off of her quivering rolls that jiggled as she rocked back and forth trying to get comfortable on the hardwood surface. As she finally stopped and her fat jiggled and quivered for a few more seconds, she turned her head and looked up at me.

“What?” she said as if taking a fork and eating an entire pie was a completely normal thing to do. “I’m hungry, I’ve barely eaten anything today. I’ve had, like, a half-pounder at Fudruckers and some Chipotle today but that was it.”

“Oh nothing, there’s no problem,” I said nonchalantly. “Lemme finish cleaning before I get the rest and lock up shop.”

I turned around and finished cleaning the kitchen for the day, I snuck a few glances at the beautiful woman happily gorging away at the pie I made like a greedy pig, shoving massive forkfuls of fatty, sugary, blueberry goodness into her mouth, her arms quivering with each forkful. I could just barely hear her humming happily as she ate over the sounds of the sink and clanking pans. As I wiped down the sink, I could see her throw the now-empty pie container aside and get started on a new pie, this time a special cognac and peach pie I won a baking competition with. As she got her fill, I could see her adjusting her dress as her belly swelled with the delicious dessert. She rubbed her corpulent tummy and let out a small burp as she put away the now-half-eaten peach pie and tossed it next to the blueberry pie dish.

I fought to hide my arousal as I grabbed two more pies and handed them to her.

“Thank you- urg,” she groaned as she rose to her feet slowly, weighed down by what must have been a quarter-ton of fat plus one and a half pies. “Oh that was so good, holy shit, these are really the best pies ever.”

“Thank you,” I replied, feeling a rush of giddy warmth flow through me. “You know, I may be a baker but I’m a damn good chef too. How does dinner at my place tomorrow night sound?”

“Yeah that sounds amazing,” she replied rushedly as if her gargantuan stomach made that decision for her before she could think about it.

“Excellent, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I replied happily.

She grabbed the pie-filled bags and waddled back to her car, her belly looking the roundest I had ever seen her. She stopped once and set down a bag to adjust her dress one more time as it rode up her fat-laden thighs before picking it back up, waddling to her car, struggling to fit her gut behind the wheel, and driving away.

I took a deep breath, knowing that I had won. I had caught her like the whale she was.

[leo-interactive-fiction]

Merry Christmas!

It is unfortunate that I worked through most of it haha

It's about 5 days until the update, and I'll go through a bit of what you can expect from it!

The festival has two parts to it.

The first part is the general festival date. This lets you go between four different locations, that either being looking through a small food court, trying out game stalls, browsing shops, or visiting a fortune teller's tent.

Though these are the same options for every RO, the specific romance route that you are in will determine completely different outcomes for each option (I.E. E checks out souvenires in the shop, L will be interested in books, while F inspects a flower shop). These scenes showcase different lore regarding each character's interests and various worldbuilding that ties into their route.

The second part of the festival is the character specific scene. This is an extended scene exclusive to the character's romance story in which a couple things will happen:

You will meet secondary characters tied very closely to the romance route you're on. Your father/fill in will appear, and meet/confront your chosen RO.

For some, the specific routes are very sweet (Hospital visit with E, Hairpin exchange with L, Running from the guards with S) While others are definitely steeped in malaise (V's betrayal, P's defeat, Raven's identity breakdown). Then there are others that have a little of both in them.

Overall, each one presents very substantial strides in the RO's story, and I'm both happy in how they ended up turning out and excited for you all to experience both the happiness and sorrow of this festival haha