#we should all remember it always and put the words into our lives and start acting on it

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mention of harm words -> 1.3k

abstract -> healing takes time...

y/n’s perspective

“His memories are still all over the place, it could be a trauma response that his brain has blocked him out from,” Doyoung said and I knew at this point this was true. 

“We’ll have checkups every few months but amnesia isn’t always a happy ending,” he said and I nodded as I was led out to the waiting room.

“You really tied your own hands up when you adopted troublesome hybrids' ' I heard and I turned around to see Chenle. I smiled… “I don’t regret getting them, I love them a lot. They also make me happy. '' I said and he chuckled. “I guess that's all that matters' ' he said and I nodded. 

“I remember how upset you were… with the whole break up,” he said and I sighed. 

“Doesn’t matter anymore… it's almost been a year anyway” I said and he chuckled. “You’ve been busy even after starting a book after so long. I heard he got a hybrid, too though? Something about his family taking in the mother of his family’s hybrid?” he said. He didn’t even like hybrids…

“Here she is” I heard and I saw Jaemin with San. “Take care of yourself,” Chenle said and I nodded as I took San. “How was it?” I asked and he looped his arm with mine as we walked down the street. 

“Find… all the memories I don't remember… is it better if I stop wanting to remember them?” he asked while looking down. 

“Why don’t we find somewhere to eat huh?”

san’s perspective

She took me to a cafe I think I heard Wooyoung talk about. It seemed familiar. She ordered us some food and he stared at me for a while before she decided to speak. 

“You know… you always wanted to come here?” she asked and I was shocked. “Really? Why… did I never come?” I asked and she gave me that sad smile she’s been giving me recently. “Look at the door,” she said and I did… What was so special? 

“It has a bell,” she said and I looked at her confused. “You used to not be able to stand the sound of bells… it caused a negative trigger” she explained. “I know you said I was in a hybrid ring where they made hybrids kill each other… Was I a bad guy?” I asked worriedly and she smiled. 

“No… you’re the sweetest hybrid I could ask for '' she said and I was relieved that she said so but something that didn’t stop haunting me suddenly resurfaced. “Then why did I hurt you?” I asked and she sighed.

“Because you hate humans and what they did to you. You thought I'd be the same” she explained, but I shook my head. “I feel comfortable with you though… I love being around you, why would I ever…” I trailed off feeling my vision start to blur. 

“Here’s your food” I heard as the waiter put our food in front of us. An iced tea and chocolate pancakes… “You really liked chocolate I found out… but if you don’t like it I'll–” “Thank you… you seem to know so much about me” I said and she smiled. 

“I like to think I do,” she said with a soft smile and I nodded. “I’m just sad… I don’t remember much about you. I just know how I feel” I confessed and she nodded. “Well, who says you can’t ask me again?” she asked and I couldn’t help but smile. 

“You’re so patient… thank you,” I said and she nodded. “Always”

I know all of the hybrids back home hate humans. Wooyoung was abandoned and called annoying or anything similar all his life besides when with her. He’s known her the longest and we’ve been friends since we met. Yeosang absolutely hates the higher class… but is insanely involved with her. I know the tigers were abused all their lives to perform dangerous stunts. 

Not all humans were the same… she was really kind. I know I could trust her with anything and have never felt unsafe since returning with her. 

I also know I made her my mate… I was her first hybrid. I belonged by her side. 

As we made it to the apartment I decided to ask… 

“So should I just stop trying to remember everything?” I asked and she sighed. “One time you told me… you wish to forget everything that used to make you sad or angry. So… it’s your choice and whatever choice you choose I'll still be here” she said and I nodded. 

“y/nie! Sannie!” I heard Wooyoung as he talked to me in a hug. “Everything is okay Wooyoung. I brought some food” she said. She mentioned that if she was getting food for me she’d have to get it for everyone… She truly cared for everyone. 

I know I hurt her… but that didn’t make her scared of me. I’ve seen how her friends look at me and the orange tigers… but she always seems to reassure me. 

While Wooyoung called for everyone, I decided to pull aside the tiger… “Can we talk?” I asked and his eyes shook but nodded. He avoided me more than everyone else. Even the white tiger made an effort to befriend me.

“Are you alright?” he asked and I nodded. “I don’t remember much but I feel annoyed by you…” I said and he nodded, not surprised. “Can… we get along?” I asked and his eyes widened with his tail suddenly twitching, catching him by surprise.

“Why all of a sudden?” he asked and I sighed. “She… she seemed to forgive me for hurting her and I know she also forgave you. I wanted to try following her example” I said and he sighed. “You don’t have to forgive me. What I did–” “Was just as bad as me apparently… I don’t remember much but I do remember hurting her. We both were wrong about her huh?” I asked and he nodded. 

“I will never forgive myself for what I did,” he said and I chuckled. “Neither will I,” I confessed. 

“Can you make me a promise?” I asked and he nodded eagerly. “I know you try your best to protect so please… When I'm not by her side and I'm often not, I don't like leaving the apartment. Please continue to protect her” I asked and he smiled.

“You didn’t have to ask that,” he said and I smiled. “Thank you, hyung!”

y/n’s perspective 

The panther was more cuddly than usual. He was already asleep, hugging me in his sleep when I heard a knock. 

“Come in,” I said and I saw Hongjoong. “Need anything?” I asked and he laughed. “I don’t think you can offer anything while trapped by San,” he said and I noticed slowly he started calling everyone by their name. Not panther… nor doberman… nor fox. San, Yeosang, and Wooyoung he’s been calling them.

“He seems to be getting better,” Hongjoong said and I nodded. “I’m glad he is… he’s more energetic too,” I said and he chuckled.

“He forgave me,” he said and I felt my eyes widen and even a smile grow on my face. “I know… he’s okay,” he said, letting out a small laugh. “You and Seonghwa are getting along with everyone… I’m glad” I said and he nodded. 

“Thank you… truly for adopting s even though I’m trouble” he said and I offered a smile. “I’m glad… I enjoy the chaos” I said and he smiled. His tail swished back and forth happily. 

“I did have a request though,” he said. “Anything,” I said and he chuckled. 

“Well… now that Wooyoung is in the process of moving into San’s room… could I possibly get my own room?”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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[ivysprophecy]

slim pickins

warnings; bad date? mentions of sex, cursing underage drinking and yes i meant for it to be written poorly i was trying to keep the humor of the album in the writing

masterlist | p. 2

no pressure tags; @murdockcastleslut @kimoralov3 @arkofblake

word count; 1911

summary; youre tired of not finding a decent guy who will treat you right and lay you right. at least not one you've known since you were kids. however you just cant help yourself. besides its slim pickins out here you take what you can get.

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

i wanna make one thing clear, when i say there are no good guys left i do not wanna hear about you and your boyfriend of three years that can cook and loves your mom.

thats exactly what im talking about maddie!!! i dont give two fucks that he took you to barnes and noble and bought you every book you wanted.

they are all taken. its plain and simple.

which is why even with a full roster, im stuck taking fucking zander, yes with a z, to my friends' kegger.

i mean yea hes cute. hes tall, built but not that gross kind of muscly. but if were being real i shouldve known better when he was joking about being a male stripper when hes a ginger.

and i can tell kie is judging me, rightfully so. her side eye is lethal. when i introduced him to everyone she asked him about his greta van fleet tee and he said he didn't even know it was a band.

needless to say pope had to drag her away.

after that incident i decided it was best if we tried to talk away from the rest of the group. boy was i wrong.

"so what do you like to drink? ill go grab us something," i offer trying to start the conversation, also avoiding the usual problem with taking a drink from men.

"im good with whatever"

i like to think im not a violent person, but im about to be.

"does a beer sound okay?" i ask him grabbing a twisted tea for me from the cooler.

"sure thing." god why is he acting like such a bitch? i should ask him if he's on his period.

i hand him the can, our fingers brush and its my final clue for the night that i am definitely not going home with him. no spark at all. hes done just about everything else to piss me off.

he did the thing where he licks his lips exaggeratingly looking me up and down, making a point to make sure i saw.

he walks so slow for being 6'3.

and finally he tried to mansplain my career to me. i'd had just enough when he opens his mouth again

"ew, you like twisted tea? who likes sweet tea?" his face contorted in disgust, it was about to contort from my fist breaking his goddamn nose if he keeps talking to me like this.

"we literally live in the south dude." my face could not make it any clearer i am so done with this guy.

"still, sweet tea is disgusting. im not kissing anyone that drinks that nasty shit."

"who said i wanted to kiss your nasty fucking mou-" i was interrupted by the sound of a very familiar giggle behind me as his arm wrapped around my shoulder, the smell of his deodorant and sea salt that cover his skin start to put you at ease.

jj was always there when you needed him, sometimes even when you didnt but right now you couldn't be more grateful. "im glad you found those mama i got em just for you. remembered theyre your favorite. right?"

and you wanna know the best part? zander is shaking already pissed off that jj is at my side. territorial i guess.

"you mind?" he asks him nodding his head at me like im not even there.

jj cant help but laugh at him "yea bud i do mind. she's hanging out with me tonight. have fun with your ipa dick." and with that he steers us off to where the rest of the pogues are.

but not before i can look over my shoulder and give the ginger an innocent smile and a shrug as if i had no control over the situation, when really id pick jj over anyone else.

"you owe me a big fat kiss mama," jj whispers in my ear walking us over to where our friends are standing, drinks in their hands laughing and chatting up a storm.

"in your dreams honey."

"every night all night," he quips back before i shove him off me.

now before you give me shit, jj and i have had our fair share of fun, but unfortunately im starting to look for something more serious.

watching john b and sarah be disgusting together is getting to my head. popes got something going on with cleo and im starting to recognize the pattern. and before i know it everyone will be in love if i don't start making an effort in that department.

random casual hook ups aren't doing it anymore, especially considering they aren't even that good.

unless theyre with jj.

but hes not an option, theres too much drama. too much history. too much too much too much. im not what he needs and i know for a fact he doesn't want me in that sense.

is that a bit dramatic? probably.

i mean hes a great lay, he's hilarious, he's got that blue collar kind of muscle, and he genuinely cares about me.

so of course im not going to date him, why would i?

what do you mean make good decisions? id rather do things in the most difficult way possible!

"y/n youve gotta stop giving those guys a chance, im starting to feel bad for you."

"you try finding a decent guy in a ten mile radius." i glare at him, obviously not wanting to joke about this right now.

he sticks his hand out in front of me, "fine i will. let me see your phone."

curious to see what he will do i hand it too him unlocked, he swipes and taps for a few moments, smiling down at the phone before handing it back to you.

when you look back down at the screen all you see is your instagram open with his stupid fucking smiley face on the screen.

he took a picture of himself and posted to my story. written on the screen in bubble letters in my favorite colored heart 'my favorite guy <3'

"i think he's your best bet." that same smile facing back at me now, cockier than ever. so smug i wanna kiss it off his face

i cant help but roll my eyes. "jj im serious! at this rate im going to die alone. every decent guy is taken or unavailable. all i want is someone funny, kind, and attractive is that too much to ask for?"

"im right in front of you mama you dont gotta look far."

"jj we both know we're not the serious kind of relationship im talking about."

"you can think what you want too but ill be here waiting for that kiss you owe me."

"i think all that tequila youve been sipping has gone to your head maybank."

he stands in front of me, taking his signature red cap off his head and putting it on mine smiling down at me, "what do they say in those books you read? you wear the hat you ride the cowboy?"

"this no ten gallon hat and you are no cowboy."

we laugh at each other, its always been easier to do that then actually talk about our feelings. so i put his hat back on his head, backwards the way he i likes it.

"cmon y/n/n, have a few more drinks, relax and hang out and ill make you feel all better later yea? its what im best at, you know."

"its gonna take more than a few more teas to convince me jj"

"what about that thing you like that i do with my tongue, huh mama? doesnt that sound pretty good right now? i think it does."

"i give you one fucking compliment and it goes straight to your head."

"technically its about my head so that makes perfect sense," he hands me another can with that stupid signature smirk of his and his stupid sexy hat backwards. i hate to admit it's working on me.

just like it does every other time.

i squint my eyes at him taking the can, rolling the idea around in my head. "fuck it. its not like anyone else is offering," i take a big sip of my drink.

jj pumps his fist in the air like a victorious idiot giving a few woots and hollars before picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder despite my wishes.

"jb!!" he shouts turning around to face him, "we're headed out!"

john b looks at the two of us shaking his head at how im kicking my feet to wiggle out of jjs oddly strong grip. "make sure you change the sheets when youre done!"

oh my god he did not just say that. "fuck both of you!"

jj just laughs carrying you back to the chateau like a kid who's excited to use a brand new birthday present.

"what happened to letting me have a few more drinks before we left??"

"youre just too irresistable mama, gotta have you now,' he gives my ass a light slap for good measure causing me to roll my eyes for the 600th time tonight.

"are you gonna put me down now?"

he pretends to look like hes thinking about it, "i guess. only so i can watch you walk away," he does as he says helping me get my feet on the ground.

"youre a pervert."

"no im flirtatious, and you love it, you know it makes you blush i see it. now go on and give me a lil walk yea?"

oh im gonna kill him...

oh wait! im gonna kill him!

"okay... fine. but no touching until we get home," i smile walking away exactly like he asked, but i know behind me he is a puddle of mud. standing still, about to start begging me to let him.

he finally catches up after a few seconds "mama please- cmon thats not fair. you look too good in those shorts you know i cant wait that long. just wanna feel you."

i cant help but giggle at his words, its honestly adorable how mopey he gets. like i just kicked his puppy or something.

"hands of jj i mean it... not until that door shuts behind us."

it didn't really matter that i can see the chateau or that ill be there in literally a minute.

its actually painful for jj to not be able to touch me as he pleases.

i turn around to face him with a cheeky smile. "you want me maybank?"

and of course he nods so hard it looks like his head is going to fall right off.

"come and get me," running towards the house, i can see the moment when his reflexes kick in, his boots thudding against the ground as he gains on me.

just before i can make it to the poarch jj wraps his arms around me, lifting me a few inches off the ground and spinning me around in a fit of laughter.

"okay! okay okay okay you win- you got me."

"oh ive got you mama, and im havin you for the rest of the fucking night," he presses a kiss to my neck hauling me inside, the screen door slamming shut after us.

am i gonna regret this tomorrow? most likely.

but what can i say? its slim pickins in this part of town.

[libraryofolive]

candy please!

featuring: Modern AU!Husband!Suguru Geto x fem!reader

genre: fluff, drabble

word count: 1.2k

synopsis: You and your husband decided to take your twin daughters trick or treating for the first time.

part two of spooky section, my 2024 Halloween event!

Nanako and Mimiko coming into yours and Suguru’s life truly was a blessing. The two young girls had fitted into your lives so seamlessly that sometimes you couldn’t even remember what life was like without them. So, when it came to their first Halloween with the two of you, you knew you had to make it special.

The idea for your family costume came quickly and easily, straight from the girls’ current favourite TV show. Suguru had taken some convincing - “but they’re dogs,” he had protested - but one pleading look from you and his daughters had any other objections dying in his throat.

The lead up to final day of October had been full of many other Halloween traditions: you had carved pumpkins (only slightly destroying your kitchen whilst doing so), taught the twins how to bob for Apples, and even taken the girls to a corn maze. But what everyone in your household seemed most excited for was the promise of free sweets in the form of trick-or-treating.

You and Suguru were stood in front of the girls, who were sat on your kitchen island, various different colours of face paint and cheap make up strewn all over it. The two of you had yet to do your own make up, deciding it would be easier to quickly do it yourselves whilst your little rascals got themselves into their outfits. Said rascals were giddy with glee, large close-lipped grins taking up most of their face as you painted Mimiko orange and Nanako was being painted blue by your husband.

“How much candy do you think you girls will be getting tonight?” You asked the two as you gathered more orange onto your sponge.

“Millions!” Nanako squealed in reply.

“Millions? You’ll still be eating it when you’re on old granny!” You joked.

“Yeah, you’ll still be eating it when you look like Uncle Satoru.” Suguru joined.

“Is Uncle Toru really an old granny?” Mimiko asked quietly.

“Mhmm - Nana, I need you to stay really still for this bit - yeah Mimi, Satoru is really old.” You looked over at Suguru to see his tongue peeking out of his lips slightly as he coloured in the tip of Nanako’s nose with a black pencil.

“How old is he?” The currently half-orange Mimiko asked.

“96.” You responded, a sly smile gracing your lips. You would be visiting your husband’s best friend later, and couldn’t wait to see what this conversation brought.

“Wow, that is old.”

“Oh yeah, you should ask him what life was like before cars.”

“He’s older than cars?” a gob-smacked Nanako gasped.

“Oh yeah.” Suguru agreed, “he’s like, super ancient.” There was a pause, “Right, you’re all done Nana, go get your costume on. Be careful of your make-up though!” He lifted the girl off the counter, and as soon as her feet were on the ground she was sprinting off to the costume neatly hung up in her room. Mimiko was soon following her, scurrying off to complete the transformation into her favourite cartoon animal.

You and your husband sat down at the counter, picking up hand mirrors and sponges to start your own make-up for the evening.

“I still can’t believe you talked me into this.” The man next to you sighed as he rubbed blue paint into his cheeks.

“As I recall, there was no talking needed. All we had to do was unleash the puppy-dog eyes.”

“Fitting, really.” You hummed, focusing more of your energy on perfecting the brown spot over one of your eyes. “You’ve really put a lot of effort into this.”

You sighed, “I mean, I just want them to have fun. And you know I’ve always loved Halloween.”

“The amount of costume parties you’ve dragged me to since before we were together speaks volumes in that regard.”

“Exactly. I just want them to love it as much as I always have.”

“Have you seen how excited they are for this? Honey, you go so above and beyond for our girls. They love you so much. And your enthusiasm has always been infectious.”

“What do you mean?”

“Babe, Halloween was always neither here nor there for me before we met. It was mostly just Satoru using it as an excuse to eat bucket-fulls of sweets and get himself shit-scared at some crappy horror movie. Then I met you, and all of a sudden I couldn’t imagine not dressing up, or going to a party, or even carving a pumpkin.”

“Don’t you dare make me cry my make-up off.” You threatened at his heartfelt words.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He stood up, officially finished with his make-up. “I’ll go see how the girls are doing.” He kissed the top of your head as he made his way out of the kitchen.

“And get your costume on! I want photos together before we head out!”

You pulled up to Gojo’s house, his being the test-run for the girls’ trick-or-treating. You had decided to trick-or-treat around his outrageously wealthy neighbourhood, and he had even offered for you all to stay at his home afterwards (although you and Suguru theorised it was an excuse to convince your daughters to share their stash of candy with him). You got the girls out of their booster seats and walked them to the front door, explaining what they should do.

“You shout ‘trick or treat!’, okay?” The girls looked at each other and nodded, before yelling it at the top of their lungs.

“No, sweethearts, you do it after he open the door, okay? How else will he know its you?” Suguru said through chuckles. He knocked on his best friend’s house, the door swinging open rapidly.

“Candy please!” The girls exclaimed, holding out their little pumpkin baskets to Gojo. You shook your head, half sighing-half laughing, whilst Suguru let out a roar of laughter. Nanako wandered straight past Gojo, as if to go and make herself at home, Mimiko trying to drag you with her as she followed her sister.

“You’re the family from Bluey!” Gojo said excitedly, looking at all of your costumes.

“No, Nana, Mimi you can’t just go into random stranger houses-” You rushed after your daughters, ignoring the white haired man completely.

“But he’s not a stranger, he’s Uncle Toru!” Nanako yelled from the sofa, where she had made herself comfortable.

“Yeah, but we’re going to lots of people’s houses tonight, and you can’t just walk in, okay?”

“Maybe we should try that again…” Suguru suggested from the doorstep, where he was still stood with his best friend.

“Good idea. Okay, girls, come with me.” They took your hands as you led them back outside, Gojo closing the door after you.

“Remember, you say trick or treat when he opens the door, okay?” Suguru said as he knocked on the door.

“Okay!” The two kids chorused. The door swung open once again to reveal Satoru Gojo.

“Is it true you’re older than cars?”

Like this? You can find my smaus here and my drabbles and other fiics here!

Do you have a request? You can find my rules for requesting here!

[lis-likes-fics]

Strung Up (Cont.)

Pairing(s): Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 32.8k words Warnings: NSFW, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat (violence), graphic descriptions of violence, graphic descriptions of death, murder, blood, gore, anxiety, panic attack, implications of stalking, frequent swearing, drug use, alcohol use, manipulation, degradation (not always in the sexy way), dubious consent, light praise kink, fingering, groping, oral sex, multiple orgasms, spanking, titty fucking, masturbation, vaguely masochistic tendencies… A/N: IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: Not all of the warnings are listed above, but the full list of warnings is provided here. The only reason they're not all here is to avoid spoilers throughout the story, but none of the warnings unlisted here should be trigger warnings. If you're still unsure, please feel free to check the list. But if you want to go into this blind, go right ahead! A/N II: Okay so...I did finish the last two scenes at 3 o'clock in the morning last night, but hey! We finished! This is the last upload for my Kinktober 2024 event. I'm glad I was able to finish just in time, and I hope you all enjoy this just as much as I did (even though I almost gave up five different times but that's not important.) Thank you so much and Happy Halloween! A/N III: The story is too long so Tumblr won't let me post this. Because of this, I will ahve to split it into two parts (which is annoying bc it will really damage notes and stuff and it's harder to manage >:( )

The warmth of Eddie's hand on your back is very comforting. As soon as he ushers you out of the car, his hand falls to the small of your back and holds you there to guide you into the very large house.

“I'm back!” she shouts, mindful of your ears. He leads you into the living room where everyone is gathered with blankets and pillows and beer.

There's a mess of greetings as you enter the room with Eddie.

“What's up, Back? The name's Argyle, my dude.” He holds his hand out with a grin.

Eddie rolls his eyes and takes his previous seat on the floor, pillows and blankets included, and gestures for you to sit next to him. “You think you're funny, but you're not,” Eddie lightly scolds, offering you a beer. You take it.

His hands shoot up as he shakes his head. “Hey, hey, hey! Pump the brakes, duderino. Just a lil joke, it's good to laugh.” Argyle chuckles before finally looking over at you. His smile drops, and he looks at you with reddened eyes. “Woah. Who's the girl you got with you, Eddie?”

Jonathan looks at him with a brow raised in confusion. “Argyle, you’ve met her before.”

He just shakes his head, his long flowing locks swishing with the movement. “I don’t think so. I remember every face that passes my perimeter, and I don’t remember her. Fess up.”

Now Robin’s confused (as are you, because you’ve definitely had conversations with this boy before). “She’s sat at our table many times.”

He crosses his arms now. “I have no recollection of this whatsoever.”

“Seriously?” Jonathan lightly smacks his hand against his shoulder.

Argyle’s character breaks. He starts laughing as he nods and pats his knee. “Ha, ha! I’m just kidding.” He holds his hand out for you to slap, which you do. “What’s up, dudette? How’s it hangin’?”

You shrug, smiling a bit. “Well, it's hangin’.”

“Right on,” he nods. “Come and join the party. We were just tryna decide which horror movie we should put on.”

You tuck your legs beneath you, leaning back against the couch behind you where Steve and Robin are. “You're seriously watching horror movies? With everything going on?”

Robin tsks as she shakes her head. “I told them it was distasteful.”

Nancy, perched on the single sofa, shrugs as she offers her suggestion “We could watch Gremlins.”

Eddie scoffs, glancing over at her as he throws his arms back on the couch. This brings an arm almost draping over your shoulder, which you hardly blink at. You're used to Eddie and all his touchiness, the way he’s always touching you, holding you. It’s comforting, if nothing else.

“That is, arguably, not a horror movie,” he says.

Argyle tilts his head from side to side, considering that and deciding he disagrees. “I don’t know. Some of those little critters were pretty spooky to me.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes. “Then you’re a wuss. Gremlins isn’t scary.”

“Friday the 13th?” Steve’s quite proud of that suggestion as he chirps up from behind you and Eddie. “That one’s a really good one.”

Robin smacks him, scoffing loudly when his hand covers where she hit him. “A movie about a bunch of teenagers being slaughtered in the middle of the woods by a masked killer?” She rolls her eyes. “That’s not insensitive at all.”

He scowls at her. “We’re not in the woods.” He shoves her.

“And none of the victims were found in the woods either,” Jonathan pipes up. There’s something mischievous in his tone that doesn’t sit right with you. “Carver was strung up and gutted. Cassidy was stabbed, and her throat was cut so deep her head almost came clean off. Tommy H and Carol Perkins were sliced up like bacon.”

His depictions swirl in your gut and make you feel a little sick. Images of the last two victims flash in your mind, their unblinking eyes, their bloodied faces, their chests like overused pin cushions, insides on the outside. You don’t realize it when you scoot closer to Eddie. His arm officially falls to your shoulders.

“Hey, man,” Argyle speaks up. “I like bacon! Don’t say that.”

Steve rolls his eyes, staring at Jonathan. “Dude, it’s called tact.” You register his hand nudging your shoulder, gently rubbing a tiny circle with his knuckle. You assume he’d noticed your unease.

Jonathan waves a hand. “All I’m saying is, Mrs. Voorhees isn’t gonna getcha.”

You raise a brow, speaking like it’s obvious (because it is). “Yeah, but Ghostface might.” You bring the can to your lips, taking a drink of your beer and scowling. Then with a sigh and a roll of your eyes, you take another drink.

“Wait,” Nancy mutters. “I thought Jason was the killer in that movie.”

Argyle flinches. “Oh, that’s just bad timing.”

You drop your head in your hands at his point out. Either way, you shake your head. “No,” you look up, “the original killer was his mom. Jason didn’t show up ‘til the sequel.”

Eddie smacks a hand over his chest. “Ugh!” he swoons. “A woman after my own heart.”

You smack him yourself, rolling your eyes. “Oh, please.”

“Anyway,” Jonathan corrects, “Ghostface isn’t going to come after us because we’re in a group. Lone killers don’t strike groups, it’s why you’re never supposed to split up in a horror movie.”

Argyle nods. “It’s a low level rule. Doesn’t guarantee survival, but it’s a good measure to follow.” He holds his hands up with a smile. “We follow the rules and none of us get sliced and diced.”

“The rules?” Eddie wonders, glancing at you to see if you know what they’re talking about. You just shrug.

“The horror movie rules.” Jonathan shrugs like it’s obvious. (It’s not.) You glance behind you to glance at Robin, who’s just as confused as you are.

“What are you talking about?” you ask.

Jonathan seems to be in completely disbelief as he whips his head to Argyle, who’s sharing similar feelings. “You don’t know the rules of being in a horror movie? Everyone knows them.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Obviously not if we’re asking.”

Argyle crosses his legs, straightening his back as he holds his arms out. “Take a seat and let us teach you the ways, younglings.”

Eddie vaguely gestures to Steve as he raises a brow. “We’re older than you.”

Neither of them pay attention to him. “Rule number one,” Jonathan begins, “Never—never—drink or do drugs.”

Steve clears his throat, raising his can in the air. Everyone in the room slowly follows suit, some clinking as if to toast to the rule. “We kinda beat you to that,” Nancy says as she brings the lip of the can to her own.

“You’re high, Gyle,” Robin points out.

Argyle shrugs. “So is Jonathan, and Eddie’s a dealer. Sometimes you just got plot armor.”

“So we’re all going to die?” Eddie wonders.

“Nope,” Jonathan says. “You need a survivor, or your movie’s bland. And the survivor’s always a girl, so one of you probably has crazy plot protection.” He points out each of the girls in the room.

“Wrong!” Eddie almost shouts it. “Evil Dead. Survivor’s a guy—it was Ash Williams.”

“And the Friday the 13th series has, like, three male survivors,” Steve adds. “And The Thing has no survivors.”

“Neither does Night of the Living Dead.” Eddie beams at your contribution.

Argyle dismisses everything, waving his hands at you all. “We’re not talking about monster movies, man.”

“And just be glad this isn't a sequel, otherwise everyone here would be on the chopping block.” Jonathan says it with little remorse.

Argyle huddles toward him, lowering his voice ineffectively. “Well, they don't needa know that. Not tryna scare ‘em, man.”

“Shit,” Jonathan mutters, covering his mouth. “You're right.”

Argyle nods enthusiastically. “Anyway, plot armor. You guys probably have it, it's okay.”

“You're comic relief though, right?” Robin quips. She smirks, “Don't comic reliefs usually die in slashers?”

A look of horror crosses Argyle’s face. “Oh, shit,” he gasps, snapping his head to Jonathan. “You think I'm gonna die, Byers?”

Jonathan, who is now worried about the same thing, shakes his head with no amount of certainty. “No…” he says, in no way convincing. “No, man. You're…” He pats his shoulder, looking away. “You'll be fine.”

“Promise?”

Jonathan actually shakes his head as he says, “Yeah, man… Promise.”

Argyle smiles, somehow reassured. He looks back at Robin, his brows furrowed. “Hey! Stop distracting. We're tryna save your lives here.”

Stifling her laugh, Nancy moves forward. “What's number two?”

“Oh, right. N��mero dos,” he continues. “Never. Have. Sex. Ever.” He points at each of you to make his point. “If you participate in the Devil's Tango at any point in the story, you die.”

“Virgins always live,” Jonathan nods.

You swallow thickly, glancing down at your hands as you recall the day before: Jake's wandering hands, his lips on your neck, his body…

“Think I'd rather die,” Eddie comments. Steve shoves Eddie, and a collective murmur of agreement floats between nearly everyone, pulling you enough from your thoughts to scoff.

“Slut,” you mutter, directed toward Eddie.

He smiles, beaming from ear to ear. “Okay, little miss Mary. Where are you on the virginity scale?”

You press your smile into a thin line, turning back to Argyle as you clear your throat. “Rule three?”

Eddie snickers, but it sounds half-hearted.

“I like the way you roll,” Argyle laughs. He turns to Jonathan. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” They stare at each other as they count down from three.

“Never–” “Don't–”

“Seriously?” Jonathan exclaims, snapping back around to his friend.

“Ah, shit, man. I’m sorry, man.” Argyle shakes his head woefully. “That was me,” he admits.

Jonathan shakes his head, disappointed by their lack of coordination. “Never say you’ll be right back,” he says without any of the flair he intended. “Because you won’t.”

Eddie stands, adjusting his shirt as he waves a hand at them. “I’m gonna go pick up my sweet Mary Jane,” he says, fondly placing his hands over his heart. “Anyone want some?”

“Eddie,” Argyle sighs, smiling just as fondly. “That sounds like a delectable idea.”

“Awesome. Hey,” he smirks mischievously, walking backwards toward the door. “I’ll be right back!”

There’s a lot of laughter, some protests, Steve tosses a crushed beer can at him—which clatters against the wall and falls to the floor, completely missing him. He’s laughing on his way out the front door. When it closes behind him, a bad feeling settles in your stomach.

Everyone else has already moved on to the next thing, still debating movies and the validity of these supposed “rules”. While they’re distracted, you decide to follow Eddie out. You don’t want to leave him alone and risk him getting hurt, and you’re paranoid enough to believe it will happen.

As you begin to leave the living room, Steve’s head perks up. “Hey, you okay?” he asks, his voice soft enough to keep the conversation between the two of you.

You nod, gesturing toward the door. “Yeah. Goin’ after Eddie.”

“No, I mean…” He gets up to join you, following you to the door as you both stop in the small hall. “Are you okay? You seemed pretty distressed on the phone.”

“Oh,” you mumble, scratching your neck and looking down at your shoes. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I just..” You take in a deep breath, willing yourself to look at Steve as you nod. “Trouble is paradise, I guess,” you shrug.

Steve nods a bit, scratching his own neck. “Ah,” he says with an understanding that puts you at ease.

“Yeah.” You sigh. “But I’ll be okay.” You start to turn back to the door, but he gently grabs your wrist. He doesn’t hurt you, and it’s not invasive.

“You sure?” He lets you go and gestures to his house. “Always welcome here if you need it.”

You smile, looking over his face, so kind and so gentle. “Thanks,” you grin. “I’ll be okay.” You say it a little more definitely now, offering him a smile that seems more believable now.

He smiles gently, nodding as he slowly steps away from you. “Alright,” he says, raising his hand and waving a little. “Go make sure he doesn’t get himself killed or anything.”

Your eyes widen in a playful kind of horror. “Don’t say that!” you exclaim quietly, a gentle scold. He laughs, turning on his heel to return to the living room. You push the front door open, turning as well to see the boy you were looking for.

“Eddie,” you call gently from the door, spotting him at the door of his van.

He turns on his heels, smiling at you and gesturing you forward. “Hey, sweetheart. You gonna be my knight in shining armor?” He bobs his brows where they disappear in the fringe of his wild hair.

You chuckle lightly. “Sure.”

“Well, c’mon then.” He makes a grand sweeping gesture with his hand, encouraging you forward. You follow after him. He throws the back doors of his van open, bowing dramatically to offer you entry. You shake your head playfully as you climb in with him following right after. He closes the doors behind him and sits across from you, his shoe bumping yours as he does.

“We’re not going back inside?” you wonder.

He shrugs. “They’ll be fine without us for a bit.” He reaches over his body to grab something, his shirt riding up his side with the stretch. Your eyes trail down at the movement, but you quickly correct yourself. He grabs his lunchbox, shaking it toward you with a smile. “Do you want one?”

You chuckle lightly, raising a brow. “I’m not gonna die?”

“Never.” He says it with more intensity than you’d anticipated. “I’ll protect you from the mean and scary Ghostface.”

You don’t mean to be so genuine when you say it, but you are and he doesn’t bat an eye. “Promise?”

Eddie’s hand falls to his chest, right over where his heart sits. “On my life,” he promises.

You swallow thickly, looking away as bashfulness nips at your fingertips. “Can’t say things like that,” you tell him, glancing up. “Our lives are what’s at stake.”

Eddie opens the box, looking up at you with all the sincerity he has. “That’s exactly why I’m saying it,” he shakes like it’s nothing. Like it’s the easiest thing to promise—to protect you with his life. You look away again, unsure of whether you want to smile because he’s so sweet or cry because he’s too sweet.

A comfortable silence settles in the space between you, which he fills with the task of rolling his blunt. You take this opportunity to look at him, while he’s too distracted to do the same.

You like looking at Eddie. He’s always been very pretty to you. He’s got these wild locks of hair, entirely unruly to reflect his rebellion. His eyes are these big, dark pools of honey. They’re always so warm and reassuring, and they make you feel nice (even when sometimes, the warmth seems a little forced…like he’s struggling to maintain it when there’s the option of just…being upset.)

Beyond his hair and his eyes, there’s his smile. He’s got plump lips made for kissing, plump lips he’s always got screwed into a smile simmering with care and heat. Though he denies it, his nose is so lightly sprinkled with these precious freckles. If you look close enough in the right light, you can see a light dust beneath his eyes.

You glance down at his hands where they crush little green buds. He’s got nice hands, decorated with giant silver rings that make him look like a rockstar. You really like his hands.

“So…” Your attention shifts back to his face. “Why did you fight?” He looks up at you through his fringe, soft eyes simmering something a little difficult to place. It takes you a moment to gather the courage to respond. You pick at your nails, pulling your knee to your chest. Eddie corrects himself. He holds his hand up, “You don’t have to tell me if you're not comfortable.”

His concern warms your chest. “Eddie,” you say, “if there’s anyone I’m comfortable around, it’s you.”

He tilts his head to his shoulder, fluttering his lashes. “Aww,” he grins.

You snort, glad when he looks away. You chew on your bottom lip, trying to decide how to phrase it. You don’t want Eddie to misunderstand. “I was telling them about…” You consider telling him about the letter, but quickly decide against it. That’s what got you in this mess anyway.

Besides…it’s likely nothing at all…

“About how afraid all of this was making me,” you respond hesitantly, “and they weren’t listening to me. They…never listen to me.” You stare blankly at your nails where your cuticles have been abused by the amount of stress you’ve been under.

Eddie watches you carefully, his eyes always soft. His foot nudges yours again so gently, you almost don’t feel it. “Are you afraid now?”

You look up at him, smiling gently. “Not in this moment.”

He tilts his head. “What was scaring you?”

“Just some…” you shrug, trying to clear your head. You didn’t want to think about it right now. “Some stupid joke. Someone playing a trick on me, probably. It’s nothing.”

He raises a brow. You can tell he doesn’t believe you, but his gaze isn’t entirely of gentle encouragement as it is of a strange suspicion. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you nod, giving him a strained smile. He stares at you for a while, assessing the look on your face. After a moment, he gives up with a sigh, nodding gently and continuing his task.

You're tired.

It's tiring being scared and anxious all the time. Everything that's been happening, the murders and the letters, they've only been stacked on top of all the other emotions going through your head, and you're tired. You hadn't realized it until now.

The more silence that lingers, the more time you have to think…mostly about what Jake had told you. You supposed you'd been so distracted by the glitz and glams of having a lover that you didn't even consider the idea that he wasn't…a lover.

You never realized that he, in fact, did not want you.

And then you think…maybe you were a bit dramatic. He's under a lot of stress, and people say things they don't mean when they're upset—it happens all the time. Maybe you're looking for excuses now to leave. And if you are, does that make you a bad person for not wanting to deal with him anymore or are you just dumb for trying to find an excuse to defend him—or! Maybe you're just trying to find a reason to be upset, because it's not like you talk to anyone for any other reason than your problems.

And here you are in Eddie's van. You made it about you again. God, you just wish you were normal. You wish you weren't such a pain in the ass.

“Eddie?” You hadn't meant to call his name. It was an impulse, and you don't actually want to ask what you were going to ask.

“Hm?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. Sorry.”

He looks up, concern creasing his brows. “What's wrong?” he insists.

You shake your head with a little more desperation. You want to drop it because you don't want him to be right. “It's nothing. Sorry.”

“Hey.” He reaches over and nudges you. He looks at you through his bangs, his eyes nothing if not puppy-like. “Tell me.”

You swallow thickly. Your eyes feel hot, but you blink to ignore the heat anyway. “Do you…” you clear your throat when it comes out raspy, “...think I'm whiny?”

His hands pause entirely on his task, and he stares at you with a look that you don't think you've ever seen before. It's a kind of warmth that feels like you'll burn alive. You notice the slightest tightening of his jaw, his fingers flexing on his lunchbox as he seals the latch.

His eyes flit from yours to your necklace. You notice the slightest movement of his bobbing Adam's apple. “Did he tell you that?” he asks, his voice low.

There's a long pause where you hesitate to speak. You've never seen him so…serious. You look down at your hands, twiddling your thumbs as you swallow down the lump in your throat.

When you don't say anything, he locks eyes with you once more. “What did he say?”

You rub your arm anxiously. “He called me delusional. He said…” You look away from him again, your voice so quiet that it's almost a whisper. “He said, ‘Why do you have to be such a whiny little bitch?’”

You hear him sigh. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't even look at you as he processes what you've told him.

The moment is still, though there's a slight brewing of something solemn in the space between you.

Then Eddie takes a deep breath in, pauses, and without blinking an eye, says, “I'm gonna kill him.”

Your lips threaten to break into a grin, and your eyes go wide as dimes. “Eddie!” you exclaim, lightly smacking him. You shake your head scoldingly. “You can’t say that.”

“I am,” he repeats, humor returning to his tone as he smiles at you, holding an arm up to shield from your swatting hand. He makes sure to articulate this time. “I’m going to kill him.”

You laugh, though it quickly becomes weak. “It’s fine, really,” you say, trying to keep the happy mood you’d been able to lift the two of you into. But it’s hard because you just keep thinking about everything, and everything hurts. “I just…” You swallow thickly, breathing in with more effort than it should take. “It doesn’t bother…” Your breath catches. “I… I don’t feel–”

Eddie’s hands are already reaching out for you upon hearing the tremble in his voice. His smile drops once more, and he sighs when he’s got you pulled closely to his chest. He shushes you gently, petting you in warm, soothing strokes with you tucked beneath his chin.

You can’t keep the tears in. It comes crashing down again, and hot tears rush down your cheeks. You hadn’t meant to cry. You’re not supposed to be crying. Your head hurts as you nuzzle into his chest, pressing your nose to his shirt and inhaling the scent of his cologne, his detergent, his skin. It’s a comforting smell that turns your heaving chest to gentle tremors of breath.

It takes some time for the erratic breaths to calm, but Eddie doesn’t seem bothered by the time. His hands are gentle, he’s warm and inviting. He soothes you with the gentle hush of his voice whispering, “Hey, it’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay. Okay? Hm?”

It does make you feel better.

You get it together faster than he thought you would. He doesn’t pull away from you as he speaks gently, the sounds reverberating in his chest with a deep hum. “You know you don’t have to take care of me, right?”

You sniffle, pulling away from him. He doesn’t let you go too far. Still within his arms, you shift so you sit beside him and rest your head on his shoulder. “I know, but…” You wipe your face roughly. You settle your voice enough to sound a little more in control, the strained sound made from tears and aching breaths channeled into something more forceful in an attempt to sound stronger than you feel. “You shouldn’t have to deal with me and my stupid feelings. You always have to deal with me and my stupid feelings.” You mumble that last part mostly to yourself.

His arm is tucked behind you, rubbing gentle circles into the small of your back. “They’re not stupid,” he promises. “Your boyfriend fucking sucks. God, I hate that guy.” He rolls his eyes, and gives a hard look to the wall of the van just so that he’s not glaring at you when he says it. His head turns back to you, a genuine question full of opposition falling from his tongue. “Why don’t you break up with him?”

You turn your face on his shoulder so your forehead rests against the bump of it, shaking your head and sniffling still. “I just…” You sigh woefully. “Everyone keeps telling me we’ll be high school sweethearts.” Your voice lifts a little with false hope. “And it sounds so nice, finding that person you want to be with young and then…spending your life with them.” You speak as if from a distant dream. You blink a few tears from your eyes. You mutter under your breath so softly that he wouldn’t have heard you if you weren’t so close. “Stupid.”

Eddie stares at you, his lashes kissing his cheeks and his head tilted just slightly to his left. “Hey,” he mutters, his large palm engulfing your cheek to encourage you to look at him. There is only sincerity in his voice when he speaks. His other hand finds you and holds your face.

“Nothing about you is stupid. I think the only stupid thing you’ve ever done was date that guy. He’s an asshole, and he doesn’t deserve you.” He shakes his head, wild hair shifting. “Because you’re perfect. You hear me?”

The slightest echo of words you shoved to the back of your mind arises. You breathe gently, slowly nodding your head. “Yeah…” you sigh. “I hear you.”

He wipes your tears away with his thumbs. “Please don’t cry.”

His voice is so small and soft, you almost feel bad for crying (and then you remember that he doesn’t want you to feel bad, and then you do your best not to).

You encourage his hands from your face, scooting close to him for the warmth and letting your head drop to your hands. You stay there for a long time, stewing. “I feel like I’m losing my mind,” you muffle into your palms. “And you’re the only one who ever listens to me.”

He scoffs, and though it’s an attempt at humor to lift your spirits, it lacks the humor he’s wanting. “That’s ‘cause you have shit friends. Except for me, of course.”

When you laugh, his smile is genuine. You’re already sounding better. “Except for you,” you mutter as you pull yourself from your hands. You sniff, and then look at him. You notice the tears on the fabric of his shirt from a moment ago and wince lightly. “Sorry for crying on your shirt.”

His brows furrow funnily. “You kidding?” He laughs lightly. “I’ll never wash this shirt again.”

You scrunch your nose. “That’s gross.”

He chuckles, bringing his hands to wipe under your eyelids where the remnants of your tears still lay. You sigh, and it's the kind of sigh that releases all the tension in your body. You slump into his hands, and he smiles.

Eddie lets go of you in favor of grabbing the blunt he'd made. He brings it between his fingers and shows it off to you like ancient treasure. “Here,” he smiles. “You can have the first hit.”

You grab it without looking, lingering there for a moment. “Thank you,” you murmur, your voice heavy with emotion.

He smirks, furrowing his brow. “It's just a hit.”

“Not that, dummy,” you say, pushing him lightly. He laughs whole-heartedly. “Thank you for being here. It means a lot to me.”

He smiles, his lashes kissing in a slow blink. “Anytime,” he breathes. He nudges your shoulder lightly, “Hey. You know you can trust me, right?”

Your lips pull in a brief smile. You're focusing on not staring down at his lips, so close to you and moving so gently with each word. “Yeah. I know.”

It's silent as you stare at one another. His eyes are more brown in the gentle light of his van when you're this close to him. They almost look like glass in the way that they shine, glossy and smooth.

You hadn't realized it when you leaned in, but you do notice when his soft breaths fan over your lashes. You lick your lip as you lean away again, looking down at the blunt between your fingers as you silently scold yourself for doing such a thing…trying to kiss Eddie. There was something wrong with you, deeply wrong.

You shake it off, setting the blunt between your lips and looking back at him. Eddie watched you for a moment before wordlessly fetching his lighter. He flicks the flame to life and sets it beneath the end.

You take the first drag, already anticipating the relief it'll bring you once it kicks in. You slowly blow out the smoke as you pass it to Eddie, who takes it graciously.

He closes his eyes as his lips wrap around the blunt. He lingers there perhaps a bit longer than he should, and then smiles at you as the smoke shoots from his mouth.

~

“Guys, wake up.”

You're woken up rather rudely. It'd been a long day, you were exhausted. The sun has barely risen in the sky, and someone's voice is ripping you from your slumber. You get up slowly, pushing yourself to get your head off the pillow from your spot on the couch. Eddie’s slumped on the floor, blankets and pillows cushioning his spot. He blindly reaches a hand up to feel for your own, though he doesn’t move to sit up as he mumbles something under his breath. (Something along the lines of “Just one more goddamn minute, please.”)

Robin sounds half-asleep as she hoists herself up from her curled up position in Steve’s single-sofa too quickly to be kind. “What? What’s going on?” she stumbles, looking around to find Nancy in the middle of the living room.

“Principal Higgins is dead.”

You’re awake now.

It’s only then when you notice the quiet droning of the television, the sound so low that it was easy to miss. There are police lights and caution tape and crowds of people being kept out by authorities. It’s all very unsettling.

Steve sits up quickly, his tousled brown hair a mess on his head. “What?” His gaze snaps to the television, where everyone else follows. You wipe your face quickly, grabbing Eddie’s hand when it finally finds yours.

“How?” you question when you find your voice.

“They found him strung up on the goal post.” Nancy turns up the sound. “They’re shutting down the school until further notice.”

Jonathan sits up, though his face has fallen in seriosity, his tone doesn’t match. “I mean…” he mutters, “score for school being out.”

“Jonathan!” Robin yells.

Argyle shakes his head, combing his fingers through his hair to fix the straight locks. “I never liked him too much, but killin’ the dude?” He sighs, “Not cool, man.”

You shove yourself off the couch to sit next to Eddie, who’s arm instinctively moves to pull you in. You let yourself be comforted by him as you shake your head. “What did Higgins even do?”

Argyle shrugs. “Everyone wants to kill the principal.”

You roll your eyes at his remark; although true, not entirely helpful. “Yeah, but no one actually does it.”

The phone rings suddenly, a very loud sound that slices through the thick air and makes everyone jump. Nancy rushes to grab it, as she’s already standing. “Hello?” There’s a pause. Her eyes fall on someone in the room, and she holds the phone out. “Robin, it’s your grandmother.”

Robin moves to stand, walking over to grab the phone from Nancy. She holds it up to her ear, mumbles something over the phone, and then hangs up. “She wants me home. She doesn’t feel safe with me out of the house.”

It only takes a couple minutes for the phone to ring again and again and again. Joyce Byers, Karen Wheeler, Wayne Munson. Everyone is called home ASAP (except for you, of course). Your parents are still away on a business trip, entirely unaware that there is a serial killer in Hawkins who’s going around killing teenagers, while their only daughter stays home alone with no one to protect her…

Eddie ends up taking you home. When he drops you off, his leg is bouncing and he seems entirely displeased by the fact that you’re insisting on being here. Something about “in case my parents call” or whatever. Really, you just don’t want Eddie to get tired of you by being around so much…and you don’t want to burden him with the responsibility of protecting you.

“You sure you don’t want to stay with me? I promise Wayne won’t mind.”

His brows are frowning like even they are concerned. You open the door, ignoring the way your hand trembles at the aspect of staying home alone in this circumstance. You hope he doesn’t notice as you give him the most reassuring smile you can handle.

“I’ll be fine,” you insist in an effort to convince even yourself.

Eddie doesn’t believe it. He reaches a hand out to cover yours. “You sure?” He sighs, “I really don’t mind. I can even convince Wayne to let me stay with you tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You shake your head. “I’ll be okay,” you quiet your voice in the hopes that he will hear you better. “Just…call me.”

He stares at you for a long time, shaking his head and looking very upset by the idea of leaving you here alone. With a defeated sigh, he runs a hand down his face and nods. Then she shakes his head. “I’m gonna pick you up before curfew.”

You groan. “Eddie–”

“No,” he says, his tone firm and without room for argument. “I��ll be back at curfew, and you’ll stay the night with me. Okay?”

You hate that it makes you feel better, but it does. With a sigh of half-defeat, you open the door. “Okay.”

He squeezes your hand gently. “Be safe. Lock the doors.”

And the windows, you think to yourself. “I will,” you agree.

You hesitate before grabbing your things and stepping out of his van. You close the door behind you and slowly make your way to your front door. Eddie watches you the whole way, refusing to leave you until you’re safely inside with the door locked.

You unlock the front door with shaky hands, closing your eyes and hoping against all hope that there’s no note waiting for you when you return. You step inside and close the door a little harder than you’re supposed to. It’s at least a solid minute before you hear Eddie’s van driving away.

Now you’re alone.

~

When they’re a knock at the door, you’re surprised you didn’t hear Eddie pull up. It’s usually very clear when Eddie arrives, he makes sure his entrance is note-worthy. You pull your door open to greet him, having come to terms with the fact that you are happy to be with Eddie tonight. But when the door is open, your shoulders tense and your face falls into something less excited.

“What do you want?” you ask, your tone flat as you stare at the girl on the other side of the door. “You’re not supposed to be out here, it’s almost past curfew.”

Brynn crosses her arms over her chest. “And you’re not supposed to be alone.” When your expression doesn’t change, and you still look very upset, she sighs and holds her hands up in a truce. “I came to apologize.”

You want to turn her away…but it is almost past curfew, and part of you does want to hear what she has to say. You consider it a moment longer and then sigh as you step back to let her in.

You close the door behind her, locking it tight. You pass by Brynn on your way to the kitchen, putting the island between the two of you simply to show her where you’re at. She doesn’t speak right away. She looks like she's trying to decide what to say to you. She reaches for her arm, stroking it lightly before beginning.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “You were right, I should've been on your side, and I wasn’t.” She cards her fingers through her hair. “It’s just been crazy with all these psycho murders, and Jake was out of line for saying that shit to you.”

You cross your arms, though the action is half-hearted. You shift on your feet, nodding slightly. “Yes, he was.”

“I’m really sorry, hon,” she repeats, tilting her head to the side. She steps forward, placing a hand on the island as an olive branch. “Walk me through it. What’s been going on?”

You stare at her for a long time, debating whether you should tell her or not. All you’ve been wanting from her for a long time is just for her to listen to you. Now she’s here offering to do just that, and you’re not even sure you want it anymore…

But, with a sigh, you concede. “I–”

The harsh ringing of the phone cuts you off. You look at it quickly wondering if it’s Eddie saying that he’s on his way. You don’t know who else it could be.

You pick up the phone, bringing it to your ear to greet. “Hello?”

“Hello, my little puppet.”

You practically slam the phone back down. A wave of shock and fear crashes through you, your eyes wide and your heart racing as you stumble back. Brynn is startled into the same state as she clutches her chest. “It’s him.” Your voice trembles, and tears are already springing to your eyes. You didn’t recognize the voice, so you’re still no closer to figuring out who this psycho is.

“Who?” she insists, stepping over to you.

“Fucking—him. The killer,” you stumble over your words, your tongue tied with each syllable you try to get out. “Fucking Ghostface!”

The phone rings again, and you move away from it as quickly as possible. You look frantically to Brynn, as if she’ll have all the answers. As if she knows how to make it stop.

She marches over to the phone, picking it up with a determined look on her face. “Listen–”

You watch her face widen in horror. Her grip on the phone trembles as she seems to stop breathing. She glances over at you, swallowing thickly before quietly passing the phone back to you. You shake your head quickly, still moving away with clumsy steps.

“I don’t want to,” you nearly whisper.

She clears her throat a bit. “I don’t think you have a choice.”

Your fearful sigh trembles as it passes from your lungs. You close your eyes shut, steeling your nerves before reaching out and grabbing the phone. You try to keep your voice steady, but it proves to be futile as your voice wavers on your words. “What do you want?”

“Woah, woah, woah,” the voice says. It’s a strange voice. It sounds almost artificial. “I just wanna talk, sweet girl. I know you’ve been getting my letters, and I know you keep them locked away in your closet to think of me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to contain your sob. Your eyes find Brynn after a moment, who’s terrified by what’s going on. These things aren’t supposed to happen in real life, and yet here you are.

“You’re crazy.”

“Crazy in love with you,” he chuckles.

“What do you want?”

There’s a pause. You hear him inhale. “I want to give you another token of my love,” he says. “Turn on the back porch light.”

Your blood runs cold. You think you literally feel your heart stop in your chest, and you’re almost gasping for air at the feeling. You whip your head to Brynn, then to the glass sliding door in the living room. Your breaths are heavy through the phone. “I don’t–”

“Do it.” His voice lowers to something scarier, and you startle at the sound.

You walk with shaky legs slowly to the living room. Brynn follows you, her movements just as hesitant as she reaches a hand out to grab yours. You squeeze it tight, bracing yourself as you lift your hand to the lightswitch.

You both scream.

Jake sits on the other side of the door with duct tape slapped over his mouth. He’s covered in blood, muffled screams forcing against the tape to no avail. He squirms as he tries to break free of his bindings that keep him stuck to the chair. You try to look away, but he doesn’t like that.

“Look at him,” he says. A sob shakes you as you force your head back. “I got him just for you. I had to break his foot and his arm just to get him here.” You wipe the tears from your face. It’s becoming hard to see. “Don’t be scared, everything’s gonna be just fine.” His voice is a purr in your ear, but not in a way that’s particularly pleasant. Your gut twists uneasily.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Your boyfriend is not as good as you think.” He sounds incredibly upset. You actually hear him growl as he continues. “Think about it, puppet. He ignores you, he makes you feel like you’re crazy, he fucking uses you for sex like you’re some cheap whore. Do you even enjoy when he touches you? When he fucks you?”

You swallow thickly, refusing to answer him as you lift your hand to press against the glass. Jake stares at you, still struggling against his restraints with all the energy he has. You can hear his muffled cries through the door. You open your mouth to speak, struggling to find the words. “Please don’t hurt him,” your voice is weak when you say this.

“And why shouldn’t I?” he questions.

“Because I’m asking you to.” You close your eyes, trying to steady your breath. “If… If you really love me, you won’t hurt him. Please.”

He laughs. “Oh, puppet.” He seems to tsk when he says it. “I’m doing this for you.” His voice takes on a sudden softness that you refuse to admit provides the slightest amount of soothing. “I promise, once this is over, you’ll feel like a brand new you. You don’t need him. You don’t need this. You deserve so much more, so much better than a jockey piece of shit like him.”

You don’t know if your sobs have stopped coming because of his words or because of the fatigue that comes with it. You hope it’s the latter.

“And it’s because I love you that I’m letting you say goodbye.”

Your heart siezes in your chest. “No, no, please!” Your scream triggers Byrnn’s, and she’s pulling your arm to try to figure out what’s going on.

“You have five seconds.” You shout protests, banging on the window and shaking your head in an attempt to stop him, but he doesn't care. “Four, three, two–”

“Bye! Goodbye! Please!”

“Good girl.”

A figure cloaked in a shroud of darkness appears outside the window. It happens so quickly, you don't even have time to process it. He swoops out behind him, a knife glinting in the porch light. Screams fill the house when the knife goes in, and then out, and then in, and then out, and then in and out and in and out–

You grab Brynn’s hand, tearing her away from the window to run. You don’t think about it too much when you do. Brynn is stumbling behind you, having trouble seeing beyond her tears. If he’s outside, surely you can make it to the door fast enough to escape.

You’re quickly proven wrong when you’re stopped right at the threshold of the living room. It can’t be.

You stare right into the face of a ghost, stepping back slowly. He tilts his head slowly to the side, raising his hand and waving one of your kitchen knives from side to side.

“Now where do you think you're going?” He takes two slow, calculated steps toward the both of you. Brynn moves away as you stay planted in your spot. That same warped voice leaks from the mask.

Brynn tugs on your arm, pulling you toward the back door. When you look, the other Ghostface is gone. It's only when she yanks the door open that he jumps in front of you with a teasing “Boo!”

Your throat is scratched rough from your screams. Jake's blood covers his hands and up the length of his arms.

In your haste to get away, to fight, to do anything, you throw your fist out in an attempt to hit him. He catches your wrist with ease, and your stomach flips when he walks you back. He never lets go. You try to hit him again and again and again, to no avail. He turns you in his arms and pulls you to his chest. You feel the sticky, hot blood on your skin. You shout as you will the tears to come.

“Why?” you ramble incoherently. “Why did you have to kill him? Why did you—fuck!”

“Hey, now!” he exclaims, still laughing in your ear. The flat side of his bloodied knife taps your cheek, and you flinch. “You're so excited, and we haven't even gotten to the big surprise.”

You shake your head, struggling to get away from him. “I don't want it. Please, I don't want it.”

He leans down closer to your ear, to the crook of your neck. “Hey, hey. Shh,” he coos.

Your cries calm, turning to stuttering breaths as you stare at the other cloaked man in the room. You almost forget about Brynn.

“Please don't hurt me,” you mutter.

“Hurt you?” He scoffs, letting you go. He turns you around to see him, and you watch his head tilt down to his shoulder. “I would never hurt you, sweetheart.”

Your lips part, and you furrow your brow at his pet name. There's only one person in the world who calls you sweetheart. But the idea of it, of him…

“Why…” You step away. “Why did you call me that?”

He stands there for a moment, contemplating. Then he laughs, raising his gloved hands to his waist and shaking his head. “Well, fuck. Guess I outed myself, huh?” He turns his head to look past you, glancing at his duplicate through dark, empty eyes. “Guess the cat's outta the bag now.”

He reaches his hand to his mask, tucking his fingers beneath it before slowly peeling the mask like skin off his face.

There's an ache in your chest and a twist in your gut when brown eyes stare back at you, smiling, glinting with joy. The tears that slip down your face burn your cheeks like molten lava. Your mind is clouded with the haze of memories flashing in your mind. All the times you held his hand, the same hand that plunged a blade into your boyfriend's chest. All the times you laughed with the same voice now sore with screams. All the times you looked into his brown eyes with the same joyous shine he has in them now. You'd always thought they looked normal. You don't understand how you missed it, the glinting.

Your voice trembles as you struggle to speak, cracking on the apex of his name. “Eddie?”

“Hello, puppet.” He grins with a kind of mischief that takes on a different tone now.

You shake your head and struggle to find the words. “Why? Why would you– I thought– You–”

He pulls you back into him, flush against his chest with his arms around your body. You feel the shape of the blade pressing against your back and try not to move. “Shh, it's okay.” He strokes your back soothingly.

When you pull away you feel the blood he'd smeared on your cheek stick to his cloak. You look down at your clothes, now stained in red, and feel your heart thrumming frantically.

“Hey. C’mon,” the other says. You turn to face him when you hear him closer than you anticipated. You clamp a hand over your mouth when tousled brown hair falls in Steve's face. He runs a hand through his curls and smiles. “No one's gonna hurt you. You're the one we're tryna help here.”

Brynn startles at that, stepping back so quickly she stumbles. You move away from Eddie, backing up to the side so you stand between them and Brynn, so you can face them both and not feel so cornered.

You try to gather the strength to sound threatening, but you don't. You know you don't. “How is this helping me? I thought you were my fucking friends! You– You tricked me!”

“We tricked you?” Steve scoffs. “Honey, we're not the ones sneaking around behind your back.” A tiny smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. “Not really, anyway.”

You pause, your brows knitting together in confusion. “What–” You shake your head, “What do you mean?”

Eddie looks past you, his eyes locking with Brynn’s. They darken in a way that you've only ever seen once or twice before. A hardness takes over the expression on his face until you almost don't recognize the boy you're looking at.

“Go on, then, Brittany.” His voice nearly takes on a growl. There's no humor in his words, no joy. It creates a chill that rushes down your spine as he raises his knife toward her. “Tell her.”

You turn, looking at her from her place on the floor. “Tell me what?”

She slowly rises from the floor, her hands up in defense. “I don't know what they're talking about,” she says slowly. She begins to back into the kitchen, inching away from you as you advance, Steve behind you and Eddie at your side.

You know she's lying. You can hear it in her voice, and you can see it on her face. She's gotten better at it over the years, but she's never been good.

“Tell me what?”

Her eyes go wide at your accusation. Surely there's no way you're going to believe two murderers over her. “Don't listen to them!” She never blinks, she never looks away. Her gaze is sharp.

Eddie walks toward her, the tip of his blade taunting her as she moves away. Eddie’s voice is low and rough, and you’ve never heard him sound so…terrifying. “Tell her how you were letting Jacob plow you every time she looked away.”

“What?” It almost comes out as a whisper. You knew she’d been lying to you about something, but you didn’t know it was this. You wish you could have picked up clues from Jake, but unlike her, he’s a great liar, and you would believe him if he told you he was some long-lost prince of a fairytale kingdom.

But this… You’d hoped for better.

“They’re fucking lying!” she shouts. Her eyes never blink. “They just fucking killed Jake, and now you’re gonna let these fucking psychopaths–”

She’s cut off when a strange sound echoes in the room. You know what it is, you know who it must be. When your eyes fall to the source of the sound, Steve holds out a camera that you recognize from Jake’s room. “Look familiar?” she asks, offering it to you. You glance at Brynn and watch her face shift into something fearful once more. She mutters your name.

You grab the camera, sliding your hand through the band and watching the video playing on the little screen. Your face falls, fear and suspicion being stripped away to something solemn.

It’s taken from within Jake’s bedroom, the desk beneath his window. Your shoulders drop when you see them. Brynn’s on her knees, between his. You watch her head bob as she grips his thighs. You watch his fingers grab a hold of her hair. You listen to him groan, to her gag. You flex your jaw and flex your fingers.

You look up at her as the sounds continue to play, taunting you, mocking you. “You…” You let out a shaky sigh. Your voice is too soft and too calm. “He was cheating on me? With you?” She watches your lip twitch. Your eyes close when you hear the sound of his grunt as he curses, and you know he’s cumming down her lying throat. Her giggle follows soon after.

She shakes her head. “It wasn’t like that. We–” She bumps into the kitchen island, but she doesn’t blink. “We were drunk, and-and it happened so fast—it was only one time!”

“Go to the next video,” Steve says, his voice so close to your ear. You don’t flinch as you take in a slow breath and do as he says.

Your sigh shakes your chest. It feels like someone’s punched you in the chest as you see Brynn on her hands and knees, Jake’s hands on her waist, his hips smacking into her as they moan and grunt and curse. The date is different. In fact, the date is your birthday.

You swallow thickly, quickly passing the camera back to Steve as you bring a hand to your neck. You stare at the floor, unable to look at her as you close your eyes and beg Steve to turn it off. You can still hear them…laughing at you. What a stupid girl. A stupid girl who thinks we love her.

“Why…” You don’t finish your question, supposing that’s enough. “How could you do this to me?” Your voice trembles, and you can’t find it within you to care. She doesn’t say anything, she just keeps staring. Your voice gets a little stronger, a little louder. “You were supposed to be my friend. You were supposed to be my best friend.”

She licks her lips. “Look, I–”

“You were fucking him behind my back!” you shout, walking toward her again. Every step you take toward her, she takes back. “How long?”

“Listen–”

“Shut your mouth,” Steve snaps.

Eddie almost startles you when you hear him at your side. You feel the warmth of his presence against your shoulder, you hear his voice by your ear. “She betrayed you,” he whispers in your ear in a clear disgust, his voice a low hum. “Just like Jacob, she ignored you and made you think you were crazy. She fucked your boyfriend. She’s supposed to be your closest friend, and she hurt you like this.” He shakes his head. His breath is warm against the shell of your ear. “Doesn’t it just make you wanna hurt her?”

You blink blankly. “I… No, I don’t…” You sigh, “I don’t want…to hurt her.” You don’t sound so sure. You don’t feel so sure. And that scares you.

“Don’t you?” Steve wonders. You turn to look at him and the glare in his eyes. You hear Eddie huff when Steve wraps an arm around your midsection, pulling your side into his chest. “She's been lying to you this whole time. I mean, how do you know she wasn't just using you to be close to him, huh?”

She shakes her head. “That's not true. We were friends before–”

“Shut up!” you yell, your head snapping back to her as you shove Steve's arm from you. You can't keep it in, the anger is boiling in your chest and it feels like poison in your throat. You just have to get it out. “Don't say a goddamn word, you lying whore.”

You scare her into silence. The anger shifts into something sad, and you hate that your lips tremble.

Your voice, though quiet now, is rough when you speak. “You never spent time with me, you weren't there for me when I needed you. I told you about the letters, and you didn't believe me. You fucking—You betrayed me.”

“That’s right!” Eddie exclaims. His hand comes to cup the side of your neck, pulling your temple to his lips as he nods giddily. He presses his mouth to your skin, and you hate to admit that his kiss feels nice. “She did. She betrayed you and your trust, and she should pay for it. Shouldn't she, puppet?”

Brynn’s fear twists into pure disgust. “You’re fucking crazy–”

“See, she keeps saying that,” he says, raising the knife at her again. He keeps hold of you, murmuring in your ear like a demon on your shoulder. “But I’m the only person who’s had your back all this time. I’ve listened to your problems, I’ve helped you through them. I’ve been there for you.” He breathes in the scent of your hair. “Me and Steve, we did all this for you.”

Steve’s in your other ear, his hand crossing over your midsection once more. You’re stuck between them, boxed in by their warm bodies as they whisper in your ear. You make no move to stop them. “And didn’t she call you crazy, too?” He smiles, “You told her about Ed’s love letters, and they said you were delusional. You told them you were afraid, he called you a whiny bitch. You ran out of the house with a killer on the loose, and neither of them went after you.”

“But you’re not delusional, are you? You’re not a whiny bitch. You know what you are?” Eddie kisses your temple once more, “You’re just like us. You’re hurt, and you want to destroy the thing that hurt you.” The idea makes you warm, and you assume it’s the rage. “And she’s hurt you so bad, you could just…kill her, couldn’t you?”

“Fuck you!”

Her voice breaks you from their embrace. You all turn to look at her, watching her now confident with anger. Eddie and Steve take a step away, letting you go. They want to see what you’ll do.

“I fucking told you he was fucking crazy,” she spits. “We kept telling you there was something wrong with him, and you never fucking listened to us. And now? Now six people are fucking dead—Jake is fucking dead. And it’s all your fault–!”

A scream rises from your chest and into your throat, but it’s not the type of scream that reaches the top of your voice and screeches. It’s the kind of scream that stays in your throat. It’s rough and it’s guttural. You clench your fist and rush toward her with nothing but red in your sight.

You don’t even fully realize it when you hit her. It’s like you black out, letting go and dissolving yourself to your most basic instincts as you knock her to the floor. She shouts, and when you kick her in the side, she moans out loud in pain and fear. It only fuels you, fuels the heat in your fists, in your head, curling in your chest.

You wrestle her onto her back and straddle her waist, punching her again when she tries to protest. She screams and cries and the blood that comes from her mouth or the cuts on her face makes it worse. You keep punching her, but each punch isn’t enough to quell the scream in your throat. Your skin of your knuckles split, your fists become covered in your blood and hers.

Eddie and Steve are cheering you on, but Eddie’s voice is the loudest. He laughs and claps his hands, yelling, “That’s it! Yes, my good fuckin’ girl, make her pay for what she did to you.” The excitement and the anger keep mixing in his tone, and there’s so much of it that he can’t even control what he wants. “Make her pay for breaking your heart.”

You hit and hit and hit until you run out of strength to continue.

She lays there, her head swaying from side to side as she whimpers and coughs, unable to breathe. She looks bad, bloodied and bruised. But it’s still not enough. You sit there, gasping for air as you stare at her.

Something enters your peripheral, and when you see it, it shines. Eddie's gloved hand, still stained with Jake’s blood, wraps around your own. He lifts it to grasp the handle of his knife, squeezing tight to secure your grip. He lets go, and you hold on still, staring at the blade in quiet contemplation.

“Do it,” he whispers. He grabs your other hand, he wraps it around the first. “Do it.” He lets you go and steps back.

You look down at Brittany. Your best friend. Your enemy.

She shakes her head weakly. Her voice is scratchy, unintelligible. “No,” she whimpers, her words sticky. “No, please. Don’t–”

You don’t let her finish.

It takes a lot more effort than you thought it would. When you bring it down, it hardly goes as deep as you meant it. When you pull it back out, it takes a lot of core strength, you have to clench your teeth and flex your abdomen. You try again and again and again. It feels good. Fuck that, it feels amazing. You shove the blade into her chest and the blood stains your hands, and you seek out the feeling over and over.

You hadn’t expected it to be so quiet.

Eddie makes no noise, neither does Steve. Your grunts feel silent in your ear. Even the squelch of the knife tearing from flesh and meat and bone sounds like nothing. Your blood thrums in your ears, and your heart thumps in your chest. It’s a silent rush that reaches a pique, and once it’s met, you feel the strength and the rage and all the intense emotion pouring out of you like the crashing fall of water.

You gasp for breath as you sit there, and it’s the only sound you hear.

Your eyes find your hands still grasping the handle, soaked in crimson and dripping. You huff, staring at it. It’s all you can do, stare.

It hits you all at once as you let the blade clatter to the floor. It’s the only sound you hear. You rush off of her, looking down at your clothes, stained. Everything is stained, everything is red. Your heart is rushing, your breath is catching, your hands are dripping.

You look at her face, deformed from your fists, stained with more red. She stares at the ceiling. She never blinks.

“Wha–” You huff, looking at your hands and her face and her chest and your clothes and– “Wha-What did I do? What– I, no, I ca–” You drop your head to your hands and then shout when you feel sticky blood on your skin. “Oh, God, I–” You turn to Eddie, so overwhelmed that you can’t even cry. Your clothes feel too tight, and you can’t see straight. And the lights, and the floor. The fucking—the walls are too close. And– “You—Oh, my fucking G– I–” Your breaths turn into a broken, tearless sob. “Eddie– I… Fuck. Eddie, I c–” You’re getting too dizzy, and you start to feel sick. “E– Fuck, wha–”

Eddie scoops you up into his arms. You fight his embrace at first, but that just makes everything worse. He shushes you and pets your hair. He pulls you against his body and tries to calm you, so you cling with all the strength you have left. “Hey, shh, shh. It’s okay, sweetheart. Hey, baby, you’re okay. Shh, shh.”

Your breaths slow enough for the spinning to stop. You slump into his body when the tension leaves you. When Eddie hears your breaths even out and feels your weight in his arms, he pulls you away from him to see your face. His hand cups your face as his thumb strokes your cheek gently.

“You’re just like us now,” he whispers. “You’re not crazy, you’re free.” He brushes stray hairs from your forehead and brushes his knuckles along the underside of your jaw. “Free of Jason Carver, who called me a freak. Free of Cassidy Franklin, who threatened your job.”

Steve continues. “Free of Tommy H, who insulted you and treated me like shit.”

Eddie nods, seeming particularly proud. “Free of your cheating boyfriend, who didn’t give a fuck about you.”

“Free of your lying friend, who betrayed your trust.”

Eddie takes your face in his hands, watching you with eyes that never show you anything but affection. “You can be whoever you want to be. And we’ll always be here for you. I will always be here for you. I can be what you need.”

You swallow thickly, searching his eyes for a lie. But he’s never had a reason to truly lie to you. You’ve always been able to trust him. He’s always been there for you. All he’s ever done was to make you happy. Your lips part in a sigh. “You will?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I love you,” he says. His voice is brimming with his confession. His hands tighten just the slightest around your head as he pulls you closer. “You are everything to me. I would kill for you. I would die for you. I would die without you.”

Eddie leans in quickly, and you panic.

You turn your head, feeling his lips on your cheek. You use your arms to separate you, holding your fists to your chest and shaking your head. “N-No,” you mutter. It's not right.

“Shh,” he whispers, turning your face with gentle movements. “Everything's gonna be okay, puppet.”

He kisses you. You breathe into it, trying not to fall for the feeling of his lips pressing into yours, but finding it inevitable. You close your eyes and feel yourself melt. You flatten your hands against his chest, and then ball the fabric of his robe in your fists. When the slightest whimper slips between your lips, Eddie groans into your mouth and his kiss becomes less affectionate.

He bites your lip, moving one hand to the back of your neck and the other to wrap around your waist. You sigh, biting back and tugging on his shirt. When his hand wanders to your side, and then up to your chest, your lips go slack against his when he gropes your breast through your shirt.

It pulls you from the depth you’d gotten lost in. He slides his hand beneath your shirt, and the chilly air makes you shrink away from him. You let go of his shirt, pushing him away with a grunt. “No.”

“Hey,” he tries to soothe. “It’s okay.”

You shake your head. This is wrong. You should not be holding him, kissing him. You push him off of you, shoving him away as you rush to stand. You remember Steve when he steps forward. You continue to back away, you need to get away.

Eddie calls your name, but you only shake your head once more. He reaches for you. You scramble to your feet and run. They don’t chase you right away. Not when you make for the stairs because they’re blocking your exits. Not when you slam your bedroom door shut and lock it tight. Not when you open your bedroom window and stare down at the bottom, unsure of your ability to make the jump.

When you hear their footsteps on the stairs, you panic again. You keep the window open, rushing to the closet and closing the door behind you as you hide behind the clothes hung around you. You can see the letters on the floor, the rose, the doll.

“Open the door, baby,” Eddie’s voice comes, muffled from your spot in the closet. He knocks on the door three slow times. You close your eyes and cover your mouth and nose. You can feel yourself shaking, your lungs struggling to keep up with your attempt at silence.

“We’re not gonna hurt you,” Steve joins. “We pinky promise.”

“Is this a game?”

“Do you like playing games?”

“Do you wanna play with us?”

“Unlock the door, and we can play all night long.”

You hear the door knob jiggle. The faintest sound of the lock clicking makes your blood run cold, and you stop moving entirely upon hearing the door open.

Deep footsteps are heard as they step into the room, their heavy boots adding to your impending doom. Your gut twists, your lungs seize, your heart pounds in your chest. You’re silent as a mouse, better than that.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Eddie sings.

“There’s only so many places you can hide.”

You hear their boots stomp over to the window. Then there’s a pause. You stare wide-eyed in the darkness, seeing nothing but the doors and hearing everything outside of the sound of your blood rushing through your ears. “Come on, sweetheart, you know we’re gonna find you. And when we do, we’ll treat you right.” He sighs gently, his voice still sing-songy as he wonders aloud. “I wonder where she could be…”

His footfalls stop in front of the closet doors, and you feel the tension releasing from your body as you feel yourself giving up. The doors open in a slow, taunting manner, and the mask stares back at you with a tilted head.

“Boo.”

He grabs you, though his grip is not unkind. Eddie crowds you as he brings you to your bed, blocking your hands when you try to hit him, escaping your legs when you try to kick him. He shushes you again, though he’s still laughing.

“What’s the matter, puppet? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

He continues to wrestle with you until you feel the fight leaving you, ounce by ounce until you lay on the bed with limbs heavy with exhaustion. He pins your wrists at either side of your head, watching reluctant tears slip down the side of your face and disappear into your hairline.

You shake your head weakly. “Please don’t hurt me, Eddie.” Your voice is nearly a whisper.

He tilts his head. “I would never hurt you.” He leans down to whisper in your ear, and the fabric tickles the skin of your neck when it brushes you. “I just need you to know just how much I love you.”

You shiver, still shaking your head and trying to stifle the feelings in your body. It’s too much to focus on, too much to think about. “It’s not right,” you cry. “I killed Brynn. You killed Jake and Cassidy and–” You cut yourself off. “I just want it to be over.”

“It is over.” Eddie gathers your wrists into one hand, the other trailing down the length of your arm. You shudder and feel yourself trying to squirm away from him (you assume). “Everyone who hurt us is gone.” His hand presses into your side. “Anyone who would hurt us will be.” You sigh when his hand strokes your thigh. “We can be together, finally.” Your breath stutters when you feel his hand slip between your thighs, where you’ve pressed them tightly together. You bite down hard on your bottom lip when his hand cups your clothed cunt.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

His palm grinds into your mound, and you stifle your sigh as you squeeze your eyes shut. Steve’s voice fills your ears. “C’mon, honey,” he says, his voice almost as breathy as Eddie’s has become. “He just wants you to be happy.”

Your breath hitches when you feel him undoing your pants. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” His hand slips past the band of your panties, beneath the fabric that had been keeping him from you. Your lips part slightly when you feel the warm pad of his finger press against your clit. You squeeze your thighs tight. “I want you to be happy.”

You moan when he circles your clit, feeling the uneasy pleasure begin to tease your nerves. He stays there for a moment before letting his finger part your folds. You whine against your tight lips when you feel another hand find your thigh. Steve spreads them apart, and you hate how exposed you feel. You hate how little you care about being exposed to them.

Eddie’s hand in your panties, his finger teasing the opening of your pussy. It swirls in your mind and makes it hard to focus on resisting. It feels good, and you hate that it feels good. It’s a sick, twisted pleasure that makes you feel uneasy but oh, so good.

“Safe,” he coos, pressing his thick finger into the warmth of your cunt with a sigh. Your mouth falls open with every inch he puts inside of you. Your legs spread on their own accord, and you open your eyes as you stare down the empty eyes of a ghost.

He strokes his finger in and out of you, a steady pace that sets every nerve ending on fire. You find your hips rolling into his hand, searching for more and then squirming away and then searching him out once more. When your back arches as he curls his finger, his voice sounds almost strained as he watches you. “Loved.”

You moan as he picks up the pace, the steady stroke of his finger becoming an insistent thrust of two long digits inside of you. You bite your lip and moans as he fucks you with his fingers, curling and thrusting and making you feel the pleasure he knows you deserve.

When you catch sight of Steve, it’s the first time you notice the camera. The red light stares you down as he films the way you wet Eddie’s hand with your arousal, the way you arch your back with each movement, the way your mouth falls open and breathy moans come out of you.

“That’s it, baby. Watch the camera,” Steve grunts.

Eddie laughs breathily. “Such a good girl,” he rasps. “A good, greedy girl. A greedy girl who wants to cum on my fingers. Huh? You gonna cum on my fingers, greedy girl?”

You tug at your wrists, and he lets one of them go just to see what you'll do. When you grip his forearm, holding onto him tight as you keen into him, he groans.

“Don't…” It's so quiet, he doesn't catch it. Eddie leans in and hums, coaxing you to speak again as you look at him with hazy eyes. “Don't stop.”

Eddie has no choice but to stop. When you whine, he almost loses his head. His eyes never tear away from your own after he pulls the mask off his head. You watch as he begins to strip, dropping his robes, and then his shirt and his pants. He takes off everything he's got on until he's standing naked in front of you.

You flush at the sight of him in all his glory. The lines of his muscles are soft and entrancing. Black ink decorates his pale skin, and your breath catches as you stare at all the illustrations. God, he's perfect. His smooth skin, his wild hair, the curve of his long cock stiff and flushed.

“You like what you see?” Eddie chuckles deeply. “What about Steve, hm?”

You tear your eyes away from him to see the boy in question. You watch as he follows suit, stripping to nothing but skin. You stare at the patch of hair on his chest, the shape of his abs (soft, but not as soft as Eddie's), the thickness of his cock heavy between his legs.

“Don't stare too long, puppet,” Eddie mutters. “I'll let him have a taste of you, but you're mine.”

You swallow thickly, staring at Eddie, his darkened brown eyes—though offering a different kind of clarity now—still the same ones that comforted you when you were upset about your boyfriend. The same eyes you saw when he gave you a ride home in the middle of the night. The same eyes that want you and only you.

Your timid fingers reach up and brush the skin of his cheek. “Eddie,” you whisper. He gazes back at you. You lick your lips, letting out a sigh and deciding in that moment. He loves you more than anyone else ever could.

“I'm yours,” you agree. “I'm yours.”

Eddie kisses you like he's afraid to lose you again. He kisses you like he thinks you might run away again. But why run away from someone who's only ever protected you? Why run away from someone who has freed you from those who have only hurt you? Why run away from someone who loves you more than you could possibly know?

You wrap your hand around the back of his head and keep him close, tasting his lips against yours, along with the faint metallic taste of blood on your tongue. You moan into his mouth, seeking more of him as you bite down on his lip and grasp his tongue between your teeth.

You let him go, your breaths shallow and bated. “Make me yours,” you whisper.

Eddie attacks your lips, dipping his head into the crook of your neck and marking you up with teeth and tongue. He red and purples your skin, claiming you as his own.

You roll your body into his, seeking out the pleasure he intends to give. His hands find your clothes, both of them gripping the top of your shirt. You yelp when he rips it down the middle, tearing your shirt in two until you shed it like skin. He pulls your pants off of your body with no love or remorse for the fabric, crueler with your panties and bra as he rips them apart.

Steve snatches your underwear up, bringing them to his nose and letting his eyes flutter shut as he inhales your sweet scent. “Fuck,” he sighs thickly. “She's amazing.”

“You're telling me,” Eddie says, his tongue laving along your nipple. You arch your back up into him, reveling in the feeling of his hot mouth on your skin.

Steve kneels on the bed, filming you with one hand stroking his cock. Eddie's lips find the spot below your belly button, kissing with teeth before dipping low once more.

Your hand grips the sheets beneath you when Eddie's mouth finds your cunt. His lips wrap around you as he laps at your folds. His tongue dips inside of your hole, licking into you with a deep moan that sends shivers down your spine.

Your fingers find his hair, tangling themselves in his messy locks and tugging hard. In return, he claws at your thighs and at the meat of your ass with dull nails, pulling you as close as he can get you as he breathes in your scent and devours you like he's been starved for a thousand years.

The heat and the pleasure and the pain mix together into this unintelligible mess. You allow yourself to be lost to the sensations, to drown in the darkness that surrounds you.

It's sort of poetic.

All your life, all you have ever done was for the pleasure and the benefit of everyone around you. You smiled when you were told to smile, you've cared for people who have never cared for you. You've let your parents leave you, you've let your best friend forget about you, you've let your boyfriend use your mouth and your body for his pleasure and leave you to rot.

But Eddie is different. He doesn’t care. You taint yourself with the blood of a friend, and he kisses your reddened lips, he holds your crimson-soaked hands, he licks the slick from your dripping cunt with the fervor of a mad man. Eddie whispers his love and devotion in your ear and tells you he will always love you.

Steve's mouth on yours is unexpected, but you take it in stride. Your nose bumps his chin as you suck on his top lip. His roaming hand strokes your side, finding your chest and squeezing your tit in his greedy palm. You moan, reveling in the attention—Eddie’s tongue lapping between your legs, Steve’s tongue licking at your chest. You card your fingers through their hair. You grasp and grip and tug. When they moan, you tug again. When you moan, they suck and hold you tighter.

When Eddie pulls away from his spot between your thighs, he shoves Steve’s head to the side so he can see your face. “Hey,” he mutters, though the hostility is half-hearted. He sits back, focusing on keeping the camera on you once more.

Eddie’s fingers return to the seam of your cunt, filling you and making you gasp. “Does it feel good, puppet?” he asks. “Getting all this attention from us? Do you like when I eat out this greedy little pussy? Do you like when Steve sucks on your tits?”

You can’t think with the rhythm of his fingers inside of you. They thrust and curl, and you moan as you find yourself grinding your hips into his palm. “Please,” you murmur, struggling to find the words to properly beg him.

“She’s so sweet, isn’t she?” Steve asks, still reaching for your breasts to flick the nipple. You hold onto Eddie’s arm, trying to keep him where he’s at as you continue to grind into his palm.

“She’s greedy. That’s what she is,” he smiles. “You wanna cum, sweetheart? Do you want to come on my hands?” You nod, feeling him pumping his fingers in and out of you. “You look so nice like this, moaning on my hands, covered in blood. Like a fucking angel.”

You’d almost forgotten about the blood. By now, with everything you’ve just gone through, with your choice to be with Eddie, with your decision to stop caring and let Eddie love you, you find that you don’t mind much. Eddie loves you, and if he loves you covered in blood as well, then you’ll gladly let it smear.

Eddie sighs longingly when you moan, arching your back and riding his palm. “That’s it, baby. Use my hand to get off. There you go,” he rambles, thrusting and curling his fingers to get you closer to where he wants you to be.

“Eddie,” you moan. “Eddie, I’m gonna cum.” He gets back to his knees, still fingering you as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. He licks and laps and does all that he can to feel you unravel by his hands, by his lips, by his touch.

Steve strokes his cock as he watches, letting heavy sighs fall past his lips. “Fuck, she looks so fuckin’ pretty.” He gropes you, flicking your nipple and massaging your tit and loving the way you gasp. “Keep going just like that, Ed. She's almost there.”

Your hips jerk up into his mouth. Eddie leans forward and holds you down, becoming more and more insistent in tasting you. He's completely consumed by your perfect thighs at either side of his head, clamping down around him as you reach the apex of your pleasure.

When you cum, your hands tug at his hair and your moan is more reminiscent of a sob as he licks you through it. “Oh, fuck,” you gasp. You moan his name and ride his face, and almost ignore the fact that he needs to breathe.

When your body stops trembling and your moans turn to heavy breaths, he pulls away from you. His chin glistens with your arousal, and he licks his pink, swollen lips with a thick sigh.

You're surprised when Eddie's hand smacks your thigh. A slight shout escapes your throat, and you wince at the pain that spreads along your body. He soothes the skin with his palm, gripping the flesh once more before delivering another smack. You stifle your cry this time.

“Does that hurt, baby?” he asks, his tone not as sympathetic. You nod. “Do you want me to stop?”

You open your eyes and shake your head. “No.”

His smile is nothing if not malicious. “Perfect.” He bends down, and his kiss is all-consuming. For a moment, you struggle to keep up, but finding your footing isn't difficult. When his hand wraps around the back of your head, you nip his tongue. When he grunts, you tilt your head. When he pulls away, you tug on his lip before letting it slap against his bottom teeth.

He smiles, letting out a long breath. “Your lips are so soft.” He kisses you quickly. “I wonder how they'd feel wrapped around my dick.”

You whine, sitting up and grabbing his shirt in your balled fist. You feel Steve behind you, pressing his body into your back to sandwich you between them. His lips brush your ear, you can tell he's struggling not to kiss you.

Eddie pulls back, diving his face into your shoulder and biting into your flesh. You turn your head toward Steve, feeling his lips at the corner of your mouth.

“Do you wanna kiss me?” you whisper to Steve, who ignores your question and dips his head into your neck. You feel their lips and teeth and tongue against your skin. 

You close your eyes, breathing through thinly parted lips as they taste your skin, having their fill of you. Steve's head switches to the other side, bumping Eddie's gently. He looks up, staring at Steve. You see him offer a grin, leaning in and biting his lip.

Eddie shoves Steve back, his actions playful but definite. Steve looks back at him with a grin and hooded eyes. You get shoved next, laying flat on your back. Eddie steps back, walking around the bed until he's bending down to kiss you again, just as Steve had done to you before.

“Open your mouth,” he mutters against your lips. You open your eyes to look at him, letting your mouth fall open just as he told you. You want him to feel as good as he made you.

Eddie takes his cock in his hand, stroking it a couple times before placing his tip at the plush of your lips. You dart your tongue out to lick at the slit of his cock, eliciting the slightest wince. One of his hands covers the length of your throat, the other cradles the back of your head. Eddie pushes his cock past your lips and into the warmth of your mouth, sighing at the feeling as you close your lips around him.

“Fuck, that’s nice,” he groans, sliding in and out of your mouth in slow strokes.

“I bet it is,” Steve mutters. He watches, envy soaked into his skin as he holds the camera still.

The bed dips when Steve gets on it. Eddie’s head is thrown back in bliss as he thrusts his cock slowly into your mouth, going deeper and deeper with each thrust until he can feel the length of him stretching your throat. He can tell you’ve had practice because you don’t immediately gag. He pushes his cock so far into your mouth that your chin presses against his pelvis.

Steve straddles you, bending down to your chest and wetting your chest with his tongue. He sucks on your nipples, bites the flesh of your tits. He paints the valley of your breasts with saliva before moving himself further up your body and pressing your tits together.

You gag on Eddie's cock when Steve's slides between the split of your tits. His moan is deep and broken as he throws his head back. “Fuck,” he breathes. “God, she's perfect.”

You press your hand to Eddie's waist, pushing him back until his dick slips from the warmth of your mouth. You turn your head to the side to cough, catching your breath as your mind races with the strange sensation of Steve thrusting between your tits.

When Eddie thinks you've gotten enough air, he tilts your head back again to push himself back inside. Your throat is tight around his cock. It squeezes around his length, and you struggle to take him as your lungs seize and your gagging stalls.

He curses, feeling the way your pretty throat bulges. Steve grabs your hands, guiding you to hold your tits together so he can grab the camera from its propped position on the bed.

“Got a good shot?” Eddie asks, his laughter mixing with a grunt.

“Fuckin’ perfect shot,” he says. “Shit, she might finish me like that.”

Precum leaks from his aching tip, spilling onto your chest, your neck. When Eddie pulls out to let you breathe, you gasp and cough once more, letting your breathy moans fill the air and imagining how ruined you must look covered in blood and precum with Steve fucking your tits and Eddie fucking your throat.

God, it's a sinful sight, and you just hope they'll let you watch the video when this is all over.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Eddie when he opens your mouth again to shove his cock back into it.

Steve sounds absolutely dreadful. The camera is unstill as he struggles to keep it together, his hips moving too fast. He's sure he's going to blow soon if he doesn't let up, but how is he supposed to when you're pressing your breasts so tightly together around his cock.

You don't see it, but you hear the way their lips briefly smack together over the sound of your gags and your glistening skin.

“F-fuck,” Eddie grunts, pressing his cock down your throat and keeping it there for just a moment before he pulls out. You gasp for breath as he grips the base of his cock, staving off his release with a rough sigh.

He hears the way Steve's sounds have begun to rise, and his chuckle is almost evil as he pulls your hands away to let them fall away from him. Steve huffs, grabbing your tits himself, but ultimately being pushed off of you by his “friend”.

Steve, pent up and frustrated as he feels his release declining into something bitter, hits the bed with a heavy palm and lets himself fall forward onto your chest. He sits there for a moment, balling his fist and trying not to punch something.

“Fuck, I was so close.” He shouts at Eddie, shoving him away. “Why’d you do that? She's mine, too!”

Eddie moves over to him, crowding his space with that same malicious grin on his face. “I said you could fuck her tits, but you can't go inside or cum on her.”

“Stupid rules. I'm not gonna cum in her,” he argued, shoving him again.

Eddie feeds off of it, and Steve can tell. “My girl, my rules.” A third shoves satiates Steve enough to stand down, shaking his head and muttering about fairness.

Eddie wraps his hand around the back of his neck and brings him in close. “You can cum on her next time,” he promises.

Steve thinks about it, looking Eddie's face up and down in thoughtful silence. When his eyes find yours, he smiles a little and nods. “Fine.”

Eddie pats his cheek before turning back to you. “Sorry, baby. Where were we?”

On one hand, you should be annoyed that Eddie is trying to pass you around like a whore. On the other, it feels nice to be desired like this. They're fighting over you, and you're flattered. A shiver runs down your spine at the aspect of letting Steve use your body, and then paint it in his gratitude. You're excited for next time…

You move to stand, walking toward him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You bring him down to kiss you again, moaning into his mouth and making sure he can taste himself on your lips just as much as you can taste yourself on his.

When Eddie gets excited, he shows you by shoving you back by your chest. You stare at him as he walks forward, turning you around harshly with your back pinned to his front. He whispers in your ear, “I'm gonna fuck you better than Jake ever could.”

A wave rushes down your spine, and you shudder. “Please,” you whisper. “I need you, Eddie.”

His sigh is shaky. His hands tighten around your arms, pulling you impossibly closer. “Want me to use this little pussy? Fuck it so hard, it's puffy and sore?”

You curse under your breath, nodding as you struggle to keep it together. “Yes, Eddie. Please. I need you.”

He pushes you down onto the bed, bending you over by the waist and feeling the round of your ass with greedy hands.

Steve snatches up the camera from the bed once more, holding it still and making sure to capture Eddie's hand slapping down against your ass. You yelp, your body jerking at the sensations.

Eddie doesn't bother soothing over the spot this time. He just hits you again and again and again. He hits you with uncaring hands until your bottom is sore and flushed with color. “Fuck, I love this pretty little ass.” He grabs it harshly, hitting you again.

The tears at your eyes can only be described as pathetic. You grip the sheets, your face messy with your tears.

Eddie wraps his arm around your neck and pulls you up harshly. “You still need me? Hm?” His voice is heavy, and he sounds almost upset. “You still want me fuck this little cunt of yours?”

He brings his other hand to your stomach and rakes his dull fingers across. You clench your jaw and close your eyes at the pain that spreads across your body. You flex your stomach when his nails reach the other side of your chest, your breaths picking up once he finishes.

“You still want me?” He asks darkly. “Do you still love me?”

After a moment, the stinging mixes into something strange and you nearly feel yourself going limp in his arms. He holds you up, his face still tucked in your neck.

“Yes,” you answer breathlessly. “I love you, Eddie. There's nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you.”

Eddie's heavy breaths fill the silence between you. “Yeah?”

You nod, your voice quieter but no less genuine. “Yes. Please fuck me. Cum in me and make me yours.”

Eddie curses as he pushes you back down onto the bed. He spreads your legs wide making sure your pussy is ready for him as he thrust a finger into the wet heat.

Eddie's cock sits deep inside of you. He holds you tightly by your waist as he thrusts so far that you think you can feel him in your fucking throat.

You grip the sheets, moaning and sighing as you try to adjust to him. Eddie's hands press against your back and push you more into the bed as he pulls out slowly. When he thrusts back in, it makes a loud smacking sound that makes you wet and dripping.

Soon, Eddie's thrusts are cruel. He fucks you in fast, rough strokes of his cock. You moan in whiny breaths, your voice high and heavy. The tears are returning, and you can't keep them at bay.

“That’s it,” Steve rasps. “Fuck her hard, Eddie. Make her cry for the camera.”

The feeling of Eddie's cock pushing against a deep spot within you has your eyes rolling. You melt into the bed and moan every time his hips snap into you. He fucks you ruthlessly and without remorse. You cry out and reach for something to hold.

You ramble nonsensically, telling him how good he feels, how good you feel. You tell him not to stop, and you tell him that you love him.

Steve tugs on his cock, desperately fisting himself in search of the same pleasure he'd had in his hands before Eddie took it away from him. He continues to encourage Eddie, who continues to fuck you. You let yourself succumb to the pleasure of Eddie's thrusts and the occasional smack that spread like wildfire through your skin. You let yourself succumb to Steve's words, filling your mind with dirty phrases and nothing more.

Your limbs are like jelly, and you decide that it feels better not to think as you let yourself be fucked.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Doin’ so good f’me.” “God, that's it. Take it like a little whore.” “Take it, take it, take it.” “You like being fucked like a slut for Eddie, hm?”

Their words mix together into a messy blurb in your head. You let it garble up, because at the end of the day, it feels good and it's white noise that makes you squelch around his cock.

You nearly cry when Eddie pulls out of you. It's a sudden thing that takes you by surprise and tears your pleasure away. He has to stop you with his hand over your mouth as he turns you over onto your back.

“Lemme see your pretty face while I fuckin’ ruin you.” He spreads your lower lips, thrusting his fingers inside of you once more and feeling how wet you are as you moan. “No one else is gonna be able to touch you after this. You know that right? No one is going to be able to fuck you as good as us. Isn't that right, Stevie?”

He kisses your temple. “That's right,” he huffs. “This pussy is ours. You understand?”

You nod, keening for their touch. “Yes. Yes, I understand.” You push your chest up to show it off, looking straight down the camera as Steve shoves it in your face. “Ruin me, please.”

It's hard not to concede after that.

Eddie thrusts inside of you once more, and you're so wet that he slips in with ease. Your eyes flutter, and you blindly reach out for Steve before grasping his cock in your hand. Steve lets you jerk him off, tugging and twisting, squeezing his cock in your tiny palm and letting his head fall back when you do.

Eddie holds your waist tight as he fucks you, his cruelty as blissful punch inside of you. The pad of his thumb circles your clit, encouraging your pleasure as you moan and whimper for this man who would do anything for you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, accompanied by moans and rough grunts and ramblings. A light sheen of sweat coats your body as the heat fills you inside and out.

Eddie bends down, tucking his face in your neck as his nose traces the shell of your ear. “Do you feel good, puppet?” You nod, your vision hazy and your mind numb. “You promise?”

Again you nod. “Yeah.”

A rough thrust makes his whole body flex, makes you cry into his ear. “Good,“ he says. “I love you, and I'm gonna make sure this perfect fucking cunt knows it. I'm gonna be so good to you, sweetheart. You know that?”

You nod, wrapping your legs around him as you continue to tug at Steve's cock. One of his hands wraps around yours, tightening and keeping you steady as he huffs.

“Love you,” you mumble, your mind so jumbled that the words are almost incoherent. “‘M yours.”

He moans, his thrusts becoming shorter and harder. You can feel yourself getting closer with every circle of his thumb.

“All mine,” he grunts.

Steve listens to the pattern of your breaths, the lilts of your moans. He smiles and strokes a little faster. “Just like that, Eddie. She's gonna cum.”

“I know she is,” he laughs. “Perfect little slut’s gonna cum on my cock like the whore she is. She's gonna moan, and she's gonna scream my fuckin’ name. Aren't you, baby?”

You nod, going on about something in the haze of pleasure.

When Eddie's deep grunts turn into weaker sounding moans, you know he's close. When your belly flexes and he can feel you clamping around him, Eddie knows you're close. When Steve jerks your hand too quickly back and forth along the head of him, you know he's close.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” Eddie moans, feeling his coming.

You do as you're told, and you do as you want. You go blind with pleasure, and your back arches as your release comes crashing down around you. You gasp and cry out Eddie's name on a broken sob as the pleasure wrecks you in the most beautiful way.

As you flutter around his cock, clenching and gushing, Eddie loses his head. He fist clenches in the sheets, still circling your clit in lazy circles as he fucks his cock deep inside of you. His groans are weak as he lets his mouth hang open, taking in the smell of you as he spills deep inside of your wet heat.

Steve, envious of your closeness, follows after, imagining the shape of your cunt, how'd you squeeze him. His warmth spills out over the sheets and into the palm of your hand, his sounds joining with yours until it's a symphony of heavy breaths and gasping moans and lazy strokes of skin on skin.

The air is thick and charged for a while, all of you refusing to slow down as you continue to drag this out for as long as you can. When you physically can't prolong it anymore, you feel your limbs grow heavy and your body releases all the tension left inside. You let yourself go limp on the sheets, still filled by Eddie as you continue to give Steve slow, lazy strokes.

Eddie brushes hair from your face, pulling back enough to kiss you sweetly. When you can see his face, you smile at the sight of his sweetness returning. It's the Eddie you're used to, the Eddie you first loved. You're getting to love all of these versions of himself.

Eddie kisses all over your face, seemingly unphased by the taste of nearly dried blood. “I love you,” he whispers into your skin with every kiss until he's kissed every last inch of you, covering you with his love. “How do you feel, baby?”

You smile lazily at him, holding his face in your hands. “Good.”

“Yeah?” he asks, brushing hair from your face. He glances at Steve, gesturing for him to join you. He goes to put the camera away to do just that. “You still love me?” he wonders.

You smile, nodding again. “Yes, Eddie,” you whisper. “I'll always love you.”

He grins wide, his dark eyes shining with adoration. “That's good.”

When Steve joins, he bumps your nose with his. “We're gonna take care of you,” he whispers. “But first, we have to make sure we don't get caught.”

Eddie sighs, unraveling himself from you as he stands up straighter. He pulls you to sit up on the bed.

You take each of their hands. “What do we do?”

Eddie cups your cheek. “First, you need to get dressed again.”

“Do I clean up?” you wonder, feeling the uncomfortable sensation of the drying blood on your face.

“Yeah, but not too much,” Steve says. Your heart thuds in your chest. “We needa get more blood on you.”

“Can you do that for us?” Eddie asks, his eyes soft. “For me?”

You nod. “Yes.”

“Good girl,” he smiles.

“Me and Eddie will handle everything else.” Steve kisses your forehead before leaving you to by yourself. Eddie lingers only for a moment, staring at your face in quiet adoration before kissing you and following after Steve.

You stand on shaky legs, disappearing into your bathroom and flicking on the light. You're almost surprised by what you see.

Red covers your face, along with tear streaks on your cheeks and saliva on your chin. You're covered in blood and spit and sweat. You look terrible. But it's the clearest you've seen yourself in a very long time.

For once, you don't feel so artificial. Strangely, in this moment, with love from a boy who truly loves you and protection from two people who want nothing but the best for you, you feel like yourself. It feels good not to hide.

You wipe off the blood, you wipe off the sweat, you clean yourself up until you don't look so guilty. When you open your closet, you see the doll lying on the floor. You move to your knees picking it up and looking over it once more. Guilt seeps into your veins as you stare at the stitches of her face.

The door opens after a while, but you don't turn to look. You know who it is.

“You okay?”

Eddie walks farther into the room, coming to kneel beside you with an arm around your body. You stroke the cheek of his gift, sighing gently.

“I'm sorry I treated her so badly.”

Eddie considers the versatility of your apology. The doll is meant to represent you, after all. He pulls you in, kissing your temple. “It's okay,” he promises. “You didn't understand yet, but now you do. Now everything's perfect.”

You look up at him with a soft smile. “Did you make her yourself?”

He nods gently, easing the doll from your hands to look over his handiwork. “Yeah. Not great work but–”

You reclaim her, holding her to your chest. “She's perfect. Thank you.”

He smiles wide, all teeth and glistening sweetness. It only gets worse when you kiss him. God, he's been waiting so long for this moment.

“I love you, Eddie,” you whisper against his lips.

He shudders at your confession. “Promise?”

You nod, echoing his words from just the night before. “On my life.”

He sighs dreamily. “I love you, too.” Then his pauses, and his face falls into something a little more solemn. He takes your hand, squeezing it tight with a sigh.

“Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

He nods gently. “I'm gonna have to hurt you.”

You smile a bit, and it's contagious. “How badly?”

Eddie beams, standing to his feet and holding out his hand. You take it with pleasure, and he helps you dress.

He leads you back downstairs, where Steve is breaking things around the living room. Brynn is still in the same spot as before, entirely undisturbed as she stares at the ceiling.

This time, when you see her, you don't feel upset. You don't get sad or scared. You don't gasp or shrink away. Strangely, you feel proud of what you've done. She can no longer lie to you. She no longer has reason to. You're both free of it, for the rest of your lives, one much shorter than the other.

You look up at Eddie and smile, and he's not sure if he can love you anymore than he already does.

“What do we do?” you ask as Steve joins you. They both walk you through it, the sequence. The story.

Brynn came by to apologize for yesterday. Jake was behaving strangely, but she was too afraid to stand up for you. When Jake shows up, he kills Brynn first because he's a witness. When he reveals himself to you as a killer, you reject him, and it sends him into a blind rage where he tries to kill you.

Steve and Eddie come to pick you up. Eddie catches Jake in the act and tries to stop him. He gets knocked out, but not before getting a couple hits on him first, weakening him enough for you to have to upperhand.

You try to escape, but you only make it to the patio. This is where you kill him in self-defense.

Steve comes in when Eddie's been gone too long. He couldn't hear over the music in the van. He sees what's happened and calls 911, wrapping everything in a nice little bow.

Eddie takes your hand in his, stroking his thumbs over the back of them with gentle touches. “Have it make it look believable, okay? I have to hit you. Is that okay, sweetheart?”

You don’t hesitate when you nod. You trust me. He only wants what’s best. “Yes. Do what you have to do.” He gives you a look, one last chance to decline. When you meet him with no fear, he nods.

The first slap really fucking hurts. Your head whips to the side, and you taste blood in your mouth as your teeth cut into your cheeks. The sensations begin as an invading heat before twisting into pain, and then into something not as bad.

You turn back to him, licking the blood from your lips as a look he’s never seen before crosses his eyes. You stare at him for a moment, and then feel your lips tugging into a grin that matches the mischief he’s reflected in his own tonight. “Do it again,” you whisper.

Eddie actually laughs, giddy with the look in your eyes. He soothes your cheek with a loving hand, kissing you quickly before striking you once more. You stumble this time, bending down and holding your face in your hands to try to soothe the aching. Eddie goes to you quickly, pulling you to him to see if you’re okay. You huff, nodding and looking up at him again. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You wipe at your lip, seeing blood and darting your tongue out to taste it. “It actually feels kind of good…after a second.” He shakes his head and mutters something about you potentially being actually crazy. You just laugh weakly.

He helps you stand, taking your face in his hands. He sighs, shaking his head gently before continuing. “We're gonna have to stab you,” Eddie says. “Not too much, just enough to get the point across.”

You nod, swallowing thickly. “Okay.”

“We also have to get some of your blood all over this room.” Steve gestures in the general area.

“Okay.”

“Still trust me?” Eddie asks.

“Yes.”

Steve hands Eddie a pair of gloves. He slips them on and takes the knife firmly in his grip.

“Is it gonna hurt a lot?”

Eddie positions the end of if at your side, his hands steady as he looks at you. “Not at first. But it will.”

“How bad?”

“A lot.”

You sigh, nodding. “I'm ready.”

“Look me in the eyes,” Eddie instructs. You do as you're told, watching him as you breathe in deep, long breaths to keep from hyperventilating.

He's right. The pain isn't immediate, but it's hot and this guttural sound falls out of you at the feeling. Eddie pulls the knife out, and you feel the hot blood rushing from the wound.

Eddie and Steve are quick to work, trying to keep you calm and keep your focus on them so you don't feel too much of the pain too quickly. They bring you outside where Jake is dressed in the robes, the mask was discarded somewhere in the room. They've already torn up the fabric to match the stab wounds.

You find that the sight of him like this makes you happy. He can't hurt you anymore. And that's all you wanted.

Eddie lays you on the ground next to Jake's body. “I'm gonna stab you again.”

“Do it,” you tell him, your breathing labored. “I trust you.”

He smiles, glimmering with pride. “Can't wait to see the scars.” He stabs you again in the middle of your pained laugh. You hold onto his loved hands, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to steady your breath.

He pulls it out, and the sensation is so strange. He kisses you. Steve busies himself with coating your hands with the pool of Jake's blood.

“We'll be here the whole time,” Eddie promises. He seems to be bracing himself for something, his jaw clenched and his face determined.

“Are you o–”

Steve thrusts the knife into Eddie's side, ripping it out with a grunt. Eddie bends over, holding the spot and straining to be calm. “Fuck, I'm sorry, sweetheart.” The knife clatters by you.

While he's down, he kisses your cheek again before being helped up by Steve. “Everything's gonna work out.” They go back inside, and you lay back against the concrete as your unfocused eyes stare at the sky.

You look over at Jake, staring at the stars with you. You think he looks better like this, sweeter. You look back to the stars and smile, letting your eyes close as darkness teases your peripheral.

Once they’re all gone, we will be together…

~

You’re woken up by someone yelling. The bright, white lights of the hospital room glare in your face as you open your eyes. You move to sit up, groaning as you wrap an arm around the bandages wrapped tightly around your waist.

You glance over at Eddie, still sitting by your bed as he had been before. He’s slumped over, holding his side. They’ve given you both morphine for the pain. He was only stabbed once, but he looks a lot worse than you. Steve had to beat the shit out of him. His face is bruised and cut, and he’s got a few more along the skin you can see. (It looks kind of hot.)

“Oh, my God!”

Robin rushes into the room first, going straight to your bedside and helping you sit up. The rest of the group floods in, Steve leading them inside.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asks quickly, looking at the state of you and wincing at the way your bruises have turned out.

Jonathan looks relatively sober, worry taking over every crease in his face. “What the hell happened?”

“I guess you do have plot armor,” Argyle says in awe. “Because, in all honesty, you shoulda died, man.”

Nancy scolds him with a smack to the shoulder. He over-exaggerates the strike, seemingly betrayed by such a thing. Eddie reaches over and grabs your hand, and you smile at him before looking at everyone around you.

It feels good to have so much attention. You notice the flowers in Nancy’s hands, to join the million others in the room, along with all the gift baskets and the balloons and cards. Everyone has been so kind, and the attention is going straight to your head.

“I’m okay, guys,” you say, glancing at Steve. “I promise.”

Robin chuckles lightly, though she still sounds worried. “Who knew he was that crazy?” She scoops up your free hand to hold it, nudging Steve in his side. “You know, it’s said that some sports, like football, can make people more aggressive. I mean, I know Jake didn’t play football, but I’m sure the sport isn’t that important in this case.” She pauses. “I guess that’s why so many of them are bullies.”

“I played basketball,” Steve points out.

She looks at him and shrugs. “And, if I recall, Steven, you were also a bully for a while. Didn’t Jonathan be the shit out of you a while back?”

Jonathan finds humor in this, but it’s all in good fun. They made up a long time ago. Steve just rolls his eyes. You laugh a little, but it hurts. You wince and cover your wounds, where you’ve been stitched up and patched. “Thanks, Robin,” you say in reference to her facts.

“It’s a good thing they got there in time, huh?” Nancy asks, adding her gift to your collection.

Eddie chuckles a little, looking at you. “Good thing I didn’t let you stay home alone all night.”

You grant him a look, trying to mask the humor there into a different kind to avoid suspicion. “Har, har,” you mutter. “Yes. I’m very fortunate.”

Argyle scratches his head. “So are you guys, like, together now?”

“Argyle!” Jonathan exclaims softly.

He shrugs. “I’m just asking, man. Look at ‘em! All holding hands and shit with the goo-goo eyes.” He waves his hand in dismissal.

Eddie squeezes your hand, and you all share a very brief look between the three of you. Your little secret. You look at Jonathan. “It’s okay.” You smile, “I think it’s safe to say that Eddie and I will be together a lot more often from now on.”

Robin sort makes this lovey-dovey kind of sigh, tilting her head with a smile. “You know, I always liked you two together.”

You grin, clasping his hand in both of yours and remembering the night before. Eddie’s fingers inside of you, Steve’s lips at your breasts. The three of you, stained with blood and sweat. What a night!

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “Me, too.”

Stranger Things taglist: @activebliss @queermaxwooo @life-on-needs @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @emmalee-01 @sw34ter-w34ther @gublur @allofmaris @redwineandnicotine @the-cryptid @katsukis1wife @chaoticcancer @papichulo120627 @emistrash @jjmaybankswifes-blog @thegr8estpuff @lover-of-books-and-tea @xxhanililoxx @quickslvxrr Eddie the Banished taglist: @iiiiluvhobie @eddiiiieeee @hb8301 @queermaxwooo @lovemegood @munsaniac @digital-charlie @eiriancrow @littleblondesoprano @alexxavicry @samz31 @sparkletash @fandomgirl17 @marjoriea13 @akiratoro420 @mewchiili @mischieftom @hiscrimsonangel

[heyftinally]

Y'all are going to like this one.

SWIFTIES DON'T TOUCH THIS POST WITH A TEN FOOT POLE, I SWEAR TO FUCKING HELL-

So my friend sent me this article, and I'm going to tell you why I think it's complete bullshit.

1) wishing us a happy Pride month is the BARE MINIMUM. As someone with her presence in the media and social influence, she could - and should - be doing SO much more than just wishing us a happy pride four days in.

2) "the singer has been an advocate for the LGBTQ+ community" not a good one. She seems to only remember us when it's convenient or benefits her in some way. Case in point:

2018 - "When it comes to feelings and when it comes to love and searching for someone to spend your whole life with. It's all just really really delicate. You know?" Taylor then performed her song "Delicate."

2023 - It’s painful for everyone, every ally, every loved one, every person in these communities.

In the first example, the intentional song reference comes off as extremely tacky. This is people's LIVES you're talking about. People are MURDERED for who they are and who they love (or don't love). This isn't an appropriate time to pull out the "oh-so-quirky" act and be cutesy.

In the second, the fact that she can't even center queer people in their own experience is so, SO telling. I promise, however painful it is for allies, it's 1000x worse for us to LIVE it. Allies don't have to wonder "am I going to get hate crimed wearing this?" before they leave the house - we frequently do. To not acknowledge that shows me that everything she says is performative at best.

3) I wouldn't call what she does "advocacy". She mentions us every now and then when it's convenient for her, profits off of us when we fit her marketing plan, and I've yet to find where she actually apologized for the homophobia in the original version of Picture to Burn. Also, she's real good friends with Travis Kelce's dad, who is a raging transphobe (and I bet his kids are, too). You don't get to call yourself an ally if you willingly allow the people around you to be violent bigots.

4) "always" is a strong word for someone who seems to show her support situationally at best. The full quote was "The way for that to happen is for us to continue to keep pushing governments to put protections in place for members of the LGBTQ community. And I promise to always advocate for that." Yet she doesn't do that.

5) what she speaks out, I've noticed that it's nearly always in the states that primarily agree with her. We don't see a whole lot of her "inspiring ally" speeches in places like Texas or Florida. But I've seen plenty of them come out of already notoriously queer-friendly places. If you aren't willing to face the heat of the difficult places along with the comfort of the easy ones, you don't get to call yourself an ally. Allyship is not easy. Anyone remember when Lady Gaga advocated for us in Russia, under threat of arrest, and her response was "arrest me, Russia! I don't give a fuck!"? Yeah, I've never seen even half that level of true commitment from Taylor.

6) STOP. MAKING. STRAIGHT GIRL SONGS. "GAY ANTHEMS"!!!! FFS it's such a slap in the fucking face of REAL, ACTUALLY QUEER ARTISTS that y'all keep calling these piss pathetic straight girl over produced crap songs "anthems". Fucking stop it. If they aren't queer, they don't qualify to be a queer anthem or icon. Start supporting ACTUAL queer artists with ⅛ this energy, for the love of FUCK. This bullshit pisses me off. Do you need a list of queer artists? I'll make you one by hand if you promise to stop trying to label Raylor Swift's straight girl shit songs as "gay anthems".

7) rainbows and gender subversion are not exclusively nor inherently queer. If that's our bar for "gay anthems", the bar is so low Lucifer himself needs a damn Webb Telescope to just barely see it from hell.

[berryz-writes]

You are divine

Azriel x reader

Summary: You haven't seen Azriel for ages after a mission has kept him busy and you decide to wait for his return. Will you finally reveal your feelings or is it just not the right time?

idk what this is or where the idea came from but hope u enjoy xx ofc it's not checked either so pretend there are no mistakes

I lounged on the sofa, my book next to me but not actually reading it. It's not that I didn't like it, I actually found the romance in the book once of the best things I had read in a while but I couldn't settle down to enjoy it.

I was waiting for Azriel to come back from a mission he had been on for two weeks now. I had recently figured out the slight ache I felt whenever I remembered him was because I missed him and not because I had some sort of heart disease. Although I don't exactly know why seen as though our conversations consisted of "Good mornings'" "Good nights" and small smiles here and there.

"What are you doing?" Nesta asked, as she swept into the living room ,a cup of tea in her hand. I could smell the slight hint of lemon and honey and it was not a smell I particularly enjoyed. She sat down on the armchair opposite me as if she was going to start interviewing me. She probably was.

I sat up slightly and showed her the book I was reading. "I'm reading. Why?" She was definitely up to something.

She took a sip of her tea before continuing "I didn't know you could read without actually looking inside the book. Do you just absorb the words?" Her sarcasm was there but so was her teasing. I stuck my tongue out at her and put the book to the side. There was no point lying anymore.

"I'm waiting for Azriel. I haven't seen him in a while" I tried to keep my expression neutral like I was waiting for a friend and not because I may like him.

Nesta it seemed found something funny as a smirk made it's way onto her face "Waiting for Azriel? Do you miss him?"

If I replied no, she would ask why I was waiting and if I said yes I would never hear the end of her teasing. So I decided to take the safer route "Don't we all miss him when he leaves? It's been two weeks now"

Putting her cup of tea down she sighed "I suppose. Although it's getting late now. You can always see him in the morning."

She knew exactly what she was doing. Her plan to trap me in her questioning had worked because she was smiling now and I didn't know what to say. I narrowed my eyes at her "Isn't it your bed time?"

I asked, redirecting the conversation even though we both knew by now why I was waiting for him.

She shrugged slightly but stood up "It is. Sweet dreams" The house vanished the cup for her as she stood up and made her way to the door before looking back "You know, I don't think I've ever met anyone as oblivious as you or Azriel. It's excruciating to watch"

So she knew. Well I suppose it was pretty obvious how I always wanted to spend time with Azriel and how I was always waiting for him to return from missions. But I don't know why she called Azriel oblivious. It was probably the fact that he never noticed how much I liked him.

I crossed my arms in defiance to her words "I don't know what your talking about" I was never about to admit I liked someone and they didn't like me back. My pride wouldn't let me.

"Hmm. Okay." She left and it was silent once again. It was dark outside, the fae lights of Velaris could be seen twinkling in the distance as the people went from bar to bar, partying the night away. It was getting late, she was right. Maybe I should wait for a few more minutes? Just in case. I watched the balcony, waiting for him to land but I never saw it because soon my eyes became heavier and harder to keep open. The constant sound of the clock in the room added to the sleepiness I was feeling as if it was ticking away the time until I fell asleep.

I decided to rest my eyes for a while. Just so I could be awake for when Azriel would arrive. Resting my eyes turned into me falling asleep on the sofa and missing the whole point of my I was sat there in the first place.

I was woken up by someone whispering my name in the dark. I pushed the voice away and turned my face away trying to get to sleep again, not bothering to open my eyes to see who it was.

"Aren't you uncomfortable on the sofa?" It was Azriel. He repeated my name again and this time I finally woke up. I rubbed my eyes to see in the mostly dark room and saw hazel eyes full of warmth looking down at me. His wings were folded in and he was still in his Illyrian armour. There wasn't a speck of blood on him as if he had changed just before coming home. He shouldn't have had to take a detour just so he looked presentable coming home. He should have felt comfortable enough to come home and clean up instead of probably going to a shabby hotel in which he must have used the cramped bathrooms not big enough for wings. I hoped it wasn't me that made him so cautious around his own home.

He looked gorgeous as ever, even though he looked tired as hell too. I shook my head and sat up, stretching so I could hear the satisfactory crack from my back.

"I'm fine. How long have you been back for?" I asked, slightly annoyed at myself for having waited for so long and not even seen him come in. Azriel sat down next to me and even from the small distance between us I could feel his heat. I was glad he was back. The dull pain in my heart had receded now and I pushed back the desire to hug him. His shadows weren't as lively or moving about as they usually were as if they were tired too, just resting on his shoulders instead.

"A few minutes. What are you doing on the sofa?" He asked, looking at me like I was doing something odd. Well, I suppose I was but what was I supposed to say? The truth?

"I was reading and I fell asleep." The lie came easily off my tongue. It was helpful in situations where telling the truth would result in a painful death but sometimes lying was just easier than telling the truth. For fear of what the other person would say or how they would react. I'd rather not embarrass myself like that.

Azriel merely nodded his head, looking down at the wooden floorboards and not saying anything. The clock seemed louder now as if it were waiting for our conversation to start again.

"How was your mission?" I asked, looking at his reaction. His wings twitched slightly but otherwise his expression remained the same.

"Shit" He replied after clearing his throat. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. Why was it shit? The reports Rhys was getting all proved of the successful discoveries Azriel had made and not once was it mentioned something had failed.

"Why was it shit? I thought you found out everything you needed to? Did something happen? Were your spies found? Did you get hurt?" With every question it seemed Azriel's jaw clenched even more than before, leaving him to look slightly angry at this point. I scanned him for any injuries but physically he seemed fine. Well, more like fucking gorgeous and hot as hell but that wasn't the point.

"It was shit because I was away from home for two weeks. I am capable of missing people you know. I don't always want to be out on missions"

I paused at his words. He was right. I had dismissed it, just because he was good at his job, didn't mean he always wanted to do it or that he didn't miss people when he left. The air around us had thickened into something awkward and I hated the slight feeling of guilt growing in me. It was unusual for Azriel to open up like this but I was glad he wasn't answering in one word answers and actually wanted my company. Even if it was him slightly snapping at me.

After some deliberating I decided to tell the truth. I could always pretend we were just friends and I wasn't harbouring feelings for him "I missed you while you were gone. You went for ages, almost two weeks. It would have been exactly fourteen days if you arrived tomorrow" I informed him. I don't know why I said that but I did and now he was looking at me and his piercing gaze made me feel like I had been caught doing something I shouldn't have.

"You missed me?" He asked, sounding like he was holding his breath and waiting for my next words.

I nodded slowly "Of course I did" I don't know what he was expecting but he let out a sigh and looked down again. Was my answer not what he wanted to hear?

"You should get some sleep now...on your bed and not the sofa" Azriel interrupted my thoughts and stood up, his wings flaring slightly before folding again. What if I touched his wings? What would happen? I knew perfectly well what would happen so I banished the thought from my mind and stood up.

"You should sleep too. You must be tired" I said, covering a yawn with my hand. Really, this welcome wasn't what it was supposed to be. Although I don't really know what it was supposed to be. I was acting like I would hug and kiss him and tell him how I'd missed him but instead we'd had a conversation for two minutes and decided to call it a night. Not the most amazing thing in the world.

He nodded his head "I will. Once I have a shower and try to wash away the death on my hands" He said it so casually as if the death made no difference to him. Even if it was something he did quiet often how used to death could a person really get? You couldn't become immune to it. His shadows had gathered near his hands and his neck as if they were comforting him or hiding him from my stare.

"The death on your hands is part of your job. Not who you are" I replied quietly. I hoped he knew that.

"You always know what to say don't you? I suppose that's why everyone says you have a silver tongue" His lips had turned up in a small smile and his shadows had receded slightly. I smiled back, glad he wasn't taking my words as offensive and instead found humour in them.

I shrugged slightly and before I knew what I was saying I had let my thoughts spill out "This tongue can do other things, y'know" I clapped a hand over my mouth, my eyes widening in horror. I was stupid. So fucking stupid.

Azriel had paused. His eyes widened slightly, signalling his surprise at my words but other than that he looked like a statue. Nothing moved. Until I heard a slight chuckle escape from his perfect lips and then an actual laugh that made my heart ache and feel bright with happiness at the same time. Ache because I hadn't heard such a beautiful sound in ages and happiness because it was me making him laugh. It was so infectious that I lowered my hands and smiled at his reaction.

"Who knew you could flirt? I wouldn't mind if you showed me what other things you could do"

Now it was my turn to stand in shock as Azriel's laughter came to an abrupt halt and he eyed me warily.

"I didn't mean that" He added quietly, all of the lightness around us gone.

I tilted my head slightly "I meant what I said though" I waited for what he would say. I had finally let it out. The fact that I wanted him and I didn't feel any better. I didn't feel lighter or as if I had hope within me. Instead nerves gathered in my stomach waiting for his rejection.

Azriel moved closer to me, his boots silent on the floorboard until there was an inch of space between us and if I wanted to, I could reach up and brush a stray curl away from his forehead.

"If I were to kiss you right now what would you do? Would you run? Push me away in disgust? " His questions were said one after another, his voice soft and his eyes locked onto mine. I had to strain my ears to make out the exact words he was saying but they went straight to my heart. As if I would ever have disgust and Azriel in the same sentence.

I swallowed. It was now or never. I wrapped my arms around his neck and moved closer until we were a hairs width apart. I waited for him to push me away but instead he watched me with intrigue and full intensity. I tilted my face up so our lips touched slightly, a jolt of electricity running through my entire body. His hands immediately came to rest on my hips, tugging my closer until I was pressed up against him and his lips were on mine and were were kissing and it felt like I was in heaven, and I never wanted it to end.

"This is what I would do" I murmured. His eyes were closed as he breathed in deeply before opening them again "You are divine" He whispered to me, before leaning in and kissing me as if his life depended on it.

MASTERLIST

[harrysarchive]

I love tattooarrist harry and baker!y/n so much!! Can we please have more of them🥺🥺

No big deal; h.s.

Pairing:

Tattooartist!harry x baker!y/n

Summary:

"I don't see the problem we were just staying in." He tries to defend himself his eyebrows furrowing, a common tell sign that he was getting worked up, "Me and Niall had a good fuckin day at work so we decided to celebrate. We can do date night another day no big deal."

POV:

Y/n's

Warnings: Slight angst

I watch as the candle slowly melts with a sigh leaving my mouth, the cold dinner left untouched and the wine was left getting warm. I look up at the clock and my frown deepens.

I'll be back at 8, just me and you tonight love.

His charismatic voice with a wink rings through my mind. The clock taunts me with the hands striking 10, finally deciding he wasnt showing, I shoved my chair back the legs of the chair weeping from the tension against the wooden floor, and started picking up the dinner left to waste. Wrapping Harry's plate in plastic wrap i shove it in the fridge when a black ball of fur swivels its way between my legs, matilda meows sorrowful and i give her a light smile.

"He probably had to work late 'tilda." I hum giving her a pat before walking towards our bedroom.

As i sit on our bed I pull my phone out and scroll through my contacts, clicking his name i put my phone to my ear and wait as the sound of the ringing vibrates through my ear.

I obviously couldn't answer I'm probably busy at work or with y/n. If it's important give her a call.

I let out a frustrated huff at the voicemail, "Where the hell are you? We had plans tonight remember? Just give me a call back please."

My body jolts as i hear the sound of keys jingle and the front door snapping open. I grab ahold of my glasses on the side table shoving them on and looking at the clock, 2:00 A.M. glares back at me. Are you actually kidding me? I put on my house shoes and walk towards the living area of the apartment, i watch as Harry pour himself a glass of water.

"And where the hell have you been?" I ask sharply as i glare at him, my hands on my hips Harry stops pouring the water and turns towards me with a frown.

"Out with Niall." He states bluntly taking a swig of water, a harsh laugh escapes my mouth and i nod.

"Did you forget something?" I ask with a sarcastic smile on my face.

He looks as if he's trying to remember something then shakes his head, "not that i recall."

Thats the fire that ignites my anger, "You made plans for us tonight! You wanted to have a nice quiet night in. I fucking made dinner, I had picked out a bath bomb for us to use. I even left work three hours early for this!"

"I don't see the problem we were just staying in." He tries to defend himself his eyebrows furrowing, a common tell sign that he was getting worked up, "Me and Niall had a good fuckin day at work so we decided to celebrate. We can do date night another day no big deal."

No big deal.

"No big deal?!" I snap taking a step in his direction, "We barely get to spend any time together because you're always working late, you fucking promised me tonight and you broke that promise. You come home six hours later from a pub and expect me not to be upset? I mean fuck Harry!" I huff massaging my temples.

"Well maybe you should have called me!" He bites and i sigh shaking my head.

"You know what, this isnt even worth it." I hum grabbing my keys from the key rack.

"Where the hell are you going?" He asks moving over towards me.

"Martha's."

"Dont do this," he sighs, "look i'm sorry okay just dont leave please."

I take a look at him, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, hair disheveled and a frown on his pretty pink lips before taking a deep breath, "i need some time to think and breathe before i make a mistake and do something irrational, if we keep going at this it'll turn out that way. Please respect my wishes."

His frown deepens and brows furrow further, "be back tomorrow?"

"I have work all day, i'll be back at 8." I spit his words back at him before throwing the door open and making my escape.

"...all im saying is he's a prick, plain and simple make him suffer." Martha states as she wipes down the colourful table.

Marthas been giving me a lecture since i walked into her little cottage yesterday at 2 in the morning and she hasnt stopped. I walked in the bakery with a frown at 6 A.M. and it hasnt came off the entire day, regulars constantly coming in giving me a sympathetic smile and wishing my day well.

"But Martha..."

"No but, no nothing. Dont give me that bullshit, sure he loves you and you love him but its the principle of the matter." She hums sitting in an old rustic arm chair next to the bean bags. "Think of it this way, if it was the other way around; him staying home making the dinner and you didnt show till ass crack in the mornin', he would do the same shit. Walk his pretty ass out of the house and drive off to Niall's."

I huff as i plop myself on the bright pink beanbag bringing my palms to my eyes trying to rub out the migraine that was destined to form. I know she's right he would be upset if it was the other way around, and the fact that he was being so blunt and  careless was very disrespectful.

"So what now?" I ask picking at my nails.

"You wait till he apologises."

I let out a deep sigh, "Martha I was also wrong for just walking out."

"No you werent, you told him yourself. You would have done some stupid shit that you didnt mean if you stayed there." She replies sharply, "and while he's at the apologising tell him to come clean the damn tables and dishes."

I let out a snort and shake my head, glancing at the clock 8 o'clock is staring back at me, Martha looks at the clock and hums.

"You can go, Nat is here so she can help clean up."

"No, i'll stay." I smile at her before snatching her rag out of her hands and smirking at her, "get up you old hag it's deep cleaning day."

She gapes at me then glares, "fuck that shit, you can do that yourself for calling me an old hag!"

I look at the clock on my dashboard, 10:30 it reads. Letting out a huff i grab my purse and some desserts I decide to bring home, everything will be fine i hoped. Walking up to the door i let one last deep sigh out before making my way through. The sound of things being knocked over make me jump slightly, looking up towards the dining area i see Harry with blood shot eyes and a blotchy face.

"You're home." He croaks out smiling at me with watery eyes.

"Yeah, stayed late to help Martha deep clean." I mumble sitting my purse on the coat rack and my keys on the key holder.

"I- um I made dinner for us." He chirps pointing to the meal on the table, "chicken parm your favourite."

I give him a weak smile before nodding and walking towards the dining table, looking at the meal my heart pulls. "Thank you thats thoughtful of you."

"No it's not, it's the bare minimum, you shouldn't thank me for this." He sighs shaking his head, "i have neglected you for weeks y/n. Making you promises and never pulling through, telling you we'd spend time together but it never happens. When you left last night, i um i got to thinking and do you know how many dates i've fallen through on?" He ask and i shake my head, not really one to keep count on things like that, "six, fucking six, that is six to many. I wanna make it up to you, i decided to cut back on my hours-"

"Harry you didnt-"

"I know i didnt have to, i wanted to." He smiles grabbing ahold of my hands, "i want to spend a lot more time with you, i want to be there for you the way you've been there for me."

Tears stream down my face as i smile at him letting out a chuckle, "i'm sorry for leaving."

"Dont be sorry, i would've left to if i was you."

A/N: oh my god :') hello guys i miss yall so fucking much its insane first off thank you so much for the request anon<3 i've been dealing with personal shit and just been in a reading (and writing) slump </3 and i've also been waiting for someone to request something so thank youuuuu!!!! I hope you guys enjoyed as much as i enjoyed writing this<3

-All the love,

em

Xo🐝

[oh-stars]

Lilies & Lavender

Lavender

a Stobin Month 2024 prompt | 712 words | CW: assumed cheating, lavender marriage, nosy neighbors | Rating: G

--

“Mrs. Grayfield thinks you’re cheating on me,” Robin says as she hands him another bag of soil. 

Steve snorts, swiping at his face with the back of his gloved hand to brush off the dirt he knows he feels on his face. “She always thinks someone’s cheating,” he says. He rips open the bag of soil and starts adding it to the new pots they just bought for the porch. “Remember when she made that big fuss about the Levinsons? Turns out, they had their extended family living with them for some time.”

“Yeah, but this time she has, like, actual evidence,” Robin says, grunting with the effort of moving the new lilies they’d picked up that morning. “Tell me again why we’re not putting these beautiful plants in our actual garden?” 

“Our flower beds get too much shade,” Steve says. “I want to see how they do in the pots out here first before we commit to rearranging the back flower beds.” He squints up at her. “You were the one who said the porch was missing something.” 

She shrugs. “I was more so thinking we could freshen up the upholstery on the bench.” 

Steve waves her off. “This is better.” He takes the flower from her and together they replant it in its new home, a massive flower pot that’ll take up a good chunk of space on their porch. “What evidence does she have?” 

“Evidence?” 

“You said she had evidence I was cheating?” 

“Oh!” Robin giggles. “She saw Chrissy leaving the other morning.” 

Steve laughs and shakes his head. “This is why I think Ed and Chris should just move into the place around the corner. Then we wouldn’t have to explain the cars to anyone.” 

“But then Chrissy would lose her bay window,” Robin says, “and I am not prepared to deal with her losing that window.” 

“I think you both would live.” 

“And can you imagine if Eddie has to deal with noise complaints every other day?” 

Steve groans and grabs the next plant to place beside the first lily. “You’re right, it's a horrible idea.” 

Robin’s quiet while they finish transferring the lilies to their new pots, all eight of them neatly planted in the two pots to frame their porch steps where they can get the most sun possible. “Should we get a divorce?” 

“We could, but what’s the point? It’s not legal to marry who we actually want to marry and the benefits we get from being married are too good to pass up on. And personally,” Steve says as he takes off his gloves to actually scratch at his face, “I don’t feel like dealing with the headache of splitting our assets unless we need to.” 

“Good point.” 

“Plus,” Steve smirks, “if we’re divorced, we can’t use the spouse excuse.” 

Robin beams. The spouse excuse is something all four of them use to get out of things, sure, but for Steve and Robin, they like to remind their partners of who they’re actually married to from time to time. It’s the best way to keep their sacred sleepovers – no one can argue that a husband and wife are meant to spend the night together. 

She looks at their hard work. The lily pots still need to be moved to where they’ll actually be sitting, the white flowers bright against the terracotta pots. “Do you think it clashes with the lavender?” She motions to the lavender plants lining their flower bed and the paved path that connects to their driveway. 

Steve shakes his head. “And even if it did, it’s only temporary.” 

“What time’s Eddie coming over?”

“Three. We have to leave by four to get to the concert though. You sure you two don’t want to come with?” Steve asks. 

Robin hums. “I think we’ll pass. I want some quiet one-on-one time with her before the anniversary trip, you know?” 

Steve nods, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mrs. Grayfield watching from her own garden. He leans over and kisses her cheek. “Sounds wonderful, dear,” he says a little louder. “My dearest wife, would you mind grabbing the hose so we can water the flowers?” 

She catches on quick, grin impossibly wider. “Anything for you, darling husband of mine.”

--

Thank you @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

Ao3 Link

[chaisshitposts]

𝐕𝐨𝐢𝐝 '𝐧 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

FULL DISCLAIMER.

yes the challenge name is corny, I don't care 😡 anyways, the challenge that I am about to propose does include things involving the the void, however, it is not centered around the void, because we as master manifesters are able to manifest drastically outside of it. this may be for everyone, but it's not for quitters. this is a lot to read, apologies in advance, but I recommend you read this in it's entirety anyways!

DESCRIPTION.

For this challenge, we will be combining a variety of methods to change our realities for the better, anyone can participate at any time. This challenge has no 'finish date' like other challenges, however, we will have a check-in a week after our start date to take note of progress. I do not believe that time limits should be put on things that we desire, however, it can motivate consistency and holding ourselves responsible on our goals and accountable of our own progress.

GOAL.

The main goal surrounding this challenge is shifting our mindsets towards obtaining our dream lives as well as keeping a mental diet that works in our favor. What I often find with these manifestation challenges are that folks give up too early on their goals when they see no movement in regards to their /main/ goals they are constantly seeking proof from, it's important to remember that time is simply a manmade illusion and that we are all different in various ways which is a beautiful thing we must remember. And there is always movement with our manifestations, even if we can't consciously see it.

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐎𝐍𝐄

Just like one would do when constructing a void list, create yourself a list of things you desire, as well as affirmations you want to be true. Doesn't matter how long the list is or what words you use or what language you use. Just make a list. You can include things about your dream life, dream apartment, dream financial situations, how often you enter the void, how quickly you enter the void, self-concept, mythical things, desired appearance, any kind of revision, superpowers, supernatural events, personality changes, drastic health changes etc, whatever you like. When creating your affirmations please remember to use past tense (always/used to/ have been) or present tense (right now/currently/ right this moment/ right this second/instantly/immediately). Make your affirmations/afformations/askformations as detailed and as long as you want, your subconscious always remember each and every detail. I'd also recommend throwing in some manifestation rules for yourself.

EXAMPLES.

I love my body.

My skin is perfect in every way and will always remain perfect with everything I do.

I've always been pretty.

I always have hella money in my bank account.

Why am I so lucky?

Why do I always enter the void instantly after just thinking about it once?

Everytime I fall asleep, I always wake up in the void.

I am a master at lucid dreaming and can lucid dream whenever I want just by affirming for it once.

I love how long, shiny, and healthy my hair always is.

Everytime I breathe I get more and more handsome.

Why am I so good at manifesting?

Regardless of everything, I can manifest anything I want instantly after affirming for it three times and it instantly conforms in the 3D.

I have my dream bedroom right now with blue walls, hardwood floors, a wardrobe filled with clothes from my y2k pinterest board, my ideal gaming set up, and an LG touch flat screen TV.

I can shift realities as easily as I can breathe.

The more I obsess over my desires the faster they conform in the 3D.

Even if I have negative thoughts or doubts, I can still manifest anything I want instantly.

Everything works in my favor, the law is always on my side.

I already have my desires, every thought that affirms the opposite is an illusion.

Whatever I say works, all techniques and methods work instantly for me.

Doing nothing works, and doing everything works when it comes to manifesting.

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐓𝐖𝐎

Give that list a name. Any name ya want, doesn't matter. Ya could even just call it your 'Void List.' My own personal list has two names 'All That I Desire' and 'Void List'. Ya could also call it 'Dream Life,' 'I Want,' etc.

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

Create an affirmation that suggests you have everything on that list. Here are some examples, but do not use these to limit any other ideas you may have or what affirmations may sound most natural to you.

I have everything on [insert name list].

I manifested everything on my list instantly and easily.

I effortlessly have everything on my list.

Everytime I breathe something from my list manifests instantly.

I have my dream life.

I already have everything I want. Everything in my life is perfect.

I already have everything on [insert name list].

Regardless of everything, I have everything on [insert name list].

Isn't it wonderful?

I literally have everything on my list right now.

Everything on my list has already manifested.

My personal affirmation: Regardless of everything, I have All That I Desire.

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

Use Psych-K to affirm this affirmation for 10 minutes (at least), or just affirm for ten minutes without Psych-K. This can be done multiple times through each day, don't limit yourself to just a single session if you don't want to, do whatever makes you feel fulfilled. I would recommend trying to do this at least once per day.

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

Outside of Psych-K or your focused affirming, I want you to use this affirmation whenever you think about anything you desire, whenever you have doubts about anything, whenever you have negative thoughts, or you can just robotically affirm this throughout the entirety of your day. It's okay to have opposing thoughts, but you need to ignore them, you cannot give them anymore attention, do not entertain them, and affirm your desires. Your umbrella affirmation is your backbone, it is your guardian angel. And if you have moments when you don't think you can stop those spiraling thoughts, take your umbrella affirmation or any other affirmation that benefits you and say it aloud with authority, over and over for 2-3 minutes. You can't say something aloud while simultaneously thinking another thing. Go RIGHT for your affirmation, we don't care about the old story anymore.

The most important thing for this step is to stop yourself from thinking the opposite of what you desire, and it's okay if you have a negative thought or two, but quickly catch yourself before you can spiral or fall back into the victim mentality. Remind yourself— no matter if you have negative thoughts, you always get what you want and everything's going to be okay. It's important to be gentle with your thoughts but also assertive when learning something new.

With robotic affirming, feelings don't matter at that time, it's simply for saturation purposes and eventually the feelings will develop on their own with robotically affirming. And if you're like me, you might just wanna flood your head with robotic affirmin' so you can stop negatives and doubts or whatever from even having the chance to come to the surface. However, if needed, feel free to affirm with authority, attitude, sass, or whatever makes you feel more powerful.

The more you repeat, the more likely you will repeat the affirmation without even realizing. I often find that robotic affirming often leads me to waking up and that affirmation is the first thought I think, that's just how saturating it can be. And with robotic affirming (affirming all damn day or at least when I remember to) and a decent mental diet, manifestations will start popping up on that very same day.

TIP: Feel free to look over your list whenever you want, as many times as you want. And if you have moments where you wanna get specific, just refer to your list and affirm that particular affirmation that you want to become true.

TIP: Just woke up? Affirm. Eating? Affirm. Have break time? Affirm. Have a moment to chill? Affirm. Taking a shower? Affirm. Using the bathroom? Affirm. Doing your make-up? Affirm. Getting dressed? Affirm. Getting ready for work/school? Affirm. Watching something you're not really paying attention to on TV? Affirm. Watching YouTube videos? Affirm. Affirm. Affirm. Affirm. Affirm.

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐒𝐈𝐗

(Optional) If applicable, and if you have trouble with robotic affirming or if ya just don't feel like it, try out recording your affirmation and looping it. There are multiple applications to be used such as Self-Pause and Parrot. I often do this myself using my bluetooth earbuds with the volume at a low enough level to hear them but not loud enough to distract me from other things. And because of who I am, I will often put overhead headphones over my bluetooth headphones to listen to music or audiobooks (that's a lot, ik but its like listening to subliminals but you can change what you're watching/listening to). Or you can play the looped affirmation at a very low volume on speaker from any kind of device while going about your day. And just because you're looping your affirmation in the background, it does NOT give you permission to affirm the opposite of your desires, you need to hold yourself accountable for the thoughts you are thinking. You control your thoughts, your thoughts don't control you.

If you do all of these things, monitoring your inner thoughts, and your inner conversations, you are bound to see or feel changes around you as well as inside of you, that's the law. Things change according to our own assumptions and how strict we are with our conscious thoughts. This way, not only are you simultaneously changing your thoughts about the void, but you are also manifesting what you want to change with the void in the first place simultaneously. With this in mind, you manifest outside of the void, a lot of things on your list, and when you do consciously wake up in the void, you'll be able to manifest the rest just by saying you've got everything on your list. It's foolproof with guaranteed success as long as you continue to hold yourself accountable and remain consistent.

Addressing Some Potential Doubts About The List Method or Why This Challenge 'Might' Not Work

Some of you may be wondering, how will my subconscious know what's on my list and how will it associate everything on my list with the name of the list that I give it? The subconscious remembers everything you do, even things that you don't consciously remember. It's constantly taking notes on everything that's said which is why, precisely, it's important to watch what you're thinking as well as what you're saying aloud. You know exactly what you mean when you're referencing certain things. And think of it like this, you are already aware that the void is within us, and when you're doing this challenge, you're constantly feeding this new information into the void that's already inside of you. The only thing you need to do is correct your conscious thoughts to think in favor of your desires. Also, there are various perks that come with this challenge— you're able to manifest all types of things all at once so you don't need to limit yourself to changing one thing at a time, the affirmations and desires in your list are immediately saved into your subconscious and all you have to do is repeat the umbrella affirmation you chose, whenever you feel particularly doubtful/negative about a certain subject you can easily go back to reread what affirmations you wrote OR you can just continue robotically affirming your umbrella affirmation, and finally, you are also practicing detachment from your goals because you've pretty much wrote them down, and may have consciously forgot about them, but kept affirming that everything on your list has already manifested. And yes, you may have goals you are consistently checking for in the 3D, but with this challenge you force consistency and saturation of the mind.

TIP: if you have certain affirmations on your list that involve shifting, the void, or anything like that— i.e. "If I say an affirmation 3 times in a row it instantly manifests and conforms in the 3D." Feel free to try it out during the challenge, but do NOT, I repeat, do NOT get discouraged if it does not grant your desired results immediately. Try to be unbothered and go back to affirming your umbrella affirmation. But if you can't do that and you end up having a moment where you're sad or pissed off, give yourself a second to feel that emotion and then I want you to be stubborn and go find that affirmation you want to become true and repeat it to yourself with authority for 2-3 minutes, say it aloud or in your head, whatever makes you feel it. After that, congratulate yourself for not giving up, because who knows, maybe your manifestation did manifest in the 3D but it's a little delayed and will appear later that night or even the day after.... Don't sell yourself short. If you want something badly enough, I know you are willing to do whatever it takes to get it.

TIP: Feel free to combine this with the lullaby method, SATs, mediation and anything else you can think of.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍.

It's okay to start this whenever you wish, but procrastination is our worst enemy, start right now. Have fun, get excited, shit's about to change in your life, I guarantee it. Make your list, choose your umbrella affirmation, affirm like a maniac, build your foundation, and make life easier on yourself. Results are guaranteed.

If you have any questions in regards to anything in this post, feel free to send in an ask, or if you want an immediate answer feel free to dm me with your questions! I will try and help the best way I can.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Right After All

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~800

Warnings: none

Summary: Your twin sister throws a party and invites her hot boyfriend and his brother. You're nothing like she is, and Dean sees he might have chosen the wrong sister.

Square Filled: tattoo (2021) for @spndeanbingo​

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

x

You’ve never seen your house so crowded before. Your twin sister invited everyone she knew to a housewarming party that turned from a few friends to a full-blown frat house. You’re more of an introvert while your twin is a severe extrovert. She needs to be around people to feel most comfortable while you can stay in your room all day either reading or playing video games.

It's only for one night, Y/N. Enjoy it and mingle.

The backyard is filled with people playing in the pool, smoking God only knows what, and playing on the mini basketball court your dad installed years ago. Inside the living room, people are playing ‘spin the bottle’, playing beer pong, and dancing to whatever music they put on. No one should be going upstairs, but you could have sworn you saw two people go up there in the midst of the chaos. 

The kitchen is the only place where there aren’t a lot of people because the kitchen isn’t that big anyway. There are a few getting drinks, but they quickly leave to rejoin the party.

The only people you’d love to converse with are your twin, her boyfriend, Dean, and his brother Sam. You’ve known them ever since they started dating a year ago. She doesn’t treat him like how he deserves, but you try to stay out of their relationship. She’s into partying, drinking, hooking up with Dean, and always spending whatever money he makes.

It sucks knowing he’s a good guy and seeing him get treated like trash.

You grab whatever alcohol is on the table and pour yourself a simple drink. Sam walks in with an uncomfortable smile on his face.

“You okay?” you chuckle.

“Yeah. I guess some girls don’t know the word ‘no’.”

“Yeah, they’re my sister’s friends. Sorry about that.”

“I can handle it,” he shrugs. “How’s school going?”

“One more year and I graduate! I’ve got an internship at the hospital this summer that will help me get a job there. How’s hunting going? I can’t imagine it’s ever good.”

“We’re managing. We got some hunters under our belt that are training so we don’t have to respond to every case.”

“That’s good. You know, I’d love to come over and see this Bunker of yours. I’ve only ever heard you talk about it. You’re making me think it’s a mythical place.”

“Yeah, we’d love to have you and Clarissa over some time.” Dean comes stumbling into the kitchen with a drunk grin on his face. “And I’m out.”

“Hey, Dean. You doing okay?” you ask.

“Never better, sweetheart.”

Dean walks over to you and pulls you into him. Before you have a chance to object, he plants his lips on yours. You’ve thought about this moment since you met Dean, but this isn’t right. He licks your bottom lip to get access inside your mouth, and you’d like to let him in but you don’t.

“Baby! That’s not me, dumbass!” your twin screeches from the kitchen door.

“What?” Dean asks and pulls away from you.

She rolls her eyes and grabs her boyfriend’s arm to drag him away. Dean might not remember this moment, but you will for the rest of your life. You were going to make a move, but your sister got to him before you could. You never said anything to Dean for fear that it’ll ruin their relationship to the point where you couldn’t see him anymore.

It’s better to have him around as a friend than not have him around at all.

Suddenly, this party has turned into a box with walls that keeps getting closer and closer to you. No one noticed you leaving the party until it was over. Some people crashed wherever they could sleep because they were too drunk to drive, leaving you to pick up their mess. Sam is in the backyard cleaning up what he can while you’re in the living room.

“Hey.”

You look up and see Dean by the stairs. Clarissa isn’t anywhere near him which means she’s probably passed out somewhere.

“Did you enjoy the party?” you ask and stuff red solo cups into the black trash bag.

“Yeah, I did. Your sister throws a helluva party. Let me help you.”

“I don’t---” He’s already picking up empty glass bottles and red cups. “Do you remember anything about the party?”

“You mean besides that kiss we shared?”

“Listen, no harm no foul, okay? We can just forget about it. You probably will in the morning.”

“I wasn’t drunk.”

“What?”

Dean walks over to you, backing you up into the large unlit fireplace.

“I knew what I was doing,” he whispers. “You know the difference between you and your twin? You have that pretty little tattoo right here.” Dean leans closer to your neck where you have a single rose tattoo right behind your ear. He brushes your hair away and plants a single kiss on the rose. “She doesn’t have one.”

He knew what he was doing. He kissed you on purpose knowing you were you and not your twin. What does this mean for you and him? For him and Clarissa? Dean pulls away from you and puts some distance between you and himself. Right before he leaves the room, he winks at you.

Maybe you and him are right after all.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[newchangestf]

A new bunny in the gym

My roommate Ryan has always been telling me I need to loosen up and stop taking life so seriously. Maybe he's got a point. While I spend all my time in the library studying he spends it at the gym or having fun at the club, and being bisexual he never has a probably finding a fuck.

I finally relented and joined him at the gym. The place was huge. Full of men of different sizes, all with bulging muscles. Though I was straight, not that I had much luck with girls, I could appreciate that all the men here were pretty attractive.

As I didn't know what to do or what to wear at the gym Ryan took me under his wing. Giving me socks, shorts, trainers, t-shirt, baseball cap, and a jockstrap to wear.

I was hesitant at first with the jockstrap, the black material didn't exactly look like it was new. It certainly wasn't something I would usually wear either.

"Don't worry bro, it's what all the guys wear!" Ryan promised.

I thought that I should listen to him considering that this was his domain so I done as I was told.

We started with some squats. Ryan showing me how to do stretch properly and safely use the weights. As I started squatting I felt the huge weights actually become easier and easier each time .

"Your legs are going to be so thick after this!" Ryan called out.

"...and so will that ass" he muttered under his breath.

We moved around the gym using the different machines. Each time they became easier to use really quickly. What I didn't notice was my body changing.

Muscle was quickly building up across my body. Turning me into a meaty gym bunny.

At the same time all those hours spent in the library were slipping away. Which explains why I didn't notice the changes.

It also explains why I didn't notice that all the guys in the gym were all very similar. About half were strong tall beasts with huge muscles. Whereas the rest were smaller, leaner but just as muscly with round bouncing asses.

Our final exercise was a couple of bench presses. I lay on my back with Ryan standing above my head helping me lift.

As he did he lowered his crotch towards my face. Breathing in his sweaty musk I felt everything click in place. My cock harded immediately and I became lost in his trance.

"I see you're changes have finally finished" Ryan said.

Putting the bar into the rack I stopped and looked up at him.

"You weren't living life and I was sick of coming back to the apartment to find you studying and not having fun. So when I found out about this place I had to bring you. Now that you're a muscle bro you can join me and have fun."

I just let the words sink in.

Ryan continued. "The best bit is that now you're just a cock hungry gym bunny. With an ass like that you'll be getting plenty of dick. Most of it mine. You won't even remember being straight."

---

That was four months ago. He was right. Now we go to the gym everyday together. Him a towering hulk of a man and me, a lean twunk with an ass that just begs to be fucked.

And it is fucked, all the time. I quickly grew to love the feeling and now I can't get enough. When Ryan isn't free I sometimes get help from the other guys at the gym. They're always happy to stretch me out after a session.

Life is so much easier now, why did I waste all that time in the library?

_____

First time writing, let me know your thoughts!

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 22 . Pen Pals

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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_____,

I don’t understand why you prefer such a bothersome way of communication when we have communication devices but if it’s what you want. 

We have successfully acquired the earth attribute power that White Star is looking for. It’s currently in my possession but I did not absorb it so you don’t have to worry about my plate. I’ll explain everything to you once we see each other. The trial to get this power was in the form of battling a giant snake that can lure people by playing with their feelings such as sorrow. The sight wasn’t pretty. It was gruesome, something you wouldn’t want to see.

However, the ending sight was a spectacle. The way the snake turned into flower petals was quite pretty. I think you would have liked to see it for yourself. Nonetheless, you should stay there where it is safe. Ron has told you that he left some of the members of the Molan household in your care. Don’t hesitate to use them at your disposal.

Sincerely,

Cale

Dear Cale,

Thank you for indulging my whims and using letters as our way to communicate. I prefer it this way as this puts no pressure on you to respond immediately. As for my end of things, I’m doing fine. I hope you are too. Territory work is a lot harder than I anticipated. Paperwork is easy, as I’ve learned a lot from our time in Mogoru. However, everything else is physically taxing. Despite that, it’s manageable as I have a lot of people helping me. 

Again, please take your time. Whether it’s about responding to my letters or explaining your secrets to me. You can take it slow. Remember that I’ll just be here waiting whenever you are waiting.

Please stay safe and always take care of your health. I will be waiting until the next time I hear from you again.

Sincerely,

_____

Dear Count Perduellio,

Remember when we talked about giving the Dark Elves their territory? I have some great news to share with you. Thanks to the help of my younger brother, we might have a chance to acquire the Land of Death. If everything goes according to plan, the Dark Elves will be able to live aboveground soon. Until then, I shall trust you to take care of them.

As for other news, I am sure you have heard about Cale Henituse’s status right now in the Caro Kingdom. Fear not for he is safe. In fact, that punk is energetic enough to treat the crown prince’s bedroom as if it were his own. He’s currently eating my cookies as I write this letter.

That’s all I can share for now. I will update you if other news comes my way.

Sincerely,

Alberu Crossman

Dear Crown Prince Alberu,

I’m delighted to hear such news. It would be great if the Roan Kingdom could give the Dark Elves the Land of Death as they are already familiar with it. As for the Dark Elves within my care, they are also doing well. They have started to settle in the homes we have provided for them and have initiated socializing with the other residents. So far all of them are living in harmony. Children playing, the market bustling, humans and Dark Elves becoming friends. All of this is happening without discrimination.

Of course, I shall observe some more to make sure that all is going positively. However, Your Highness, can you write such brash words? If anyone else were to read your letter it would surely tarnish the reputation of our rising sun a little bit. Good thing we send our letters through special means that will keep their secrecy.

I hope the crown’s endeavours will go splendidly. I shall await more news once it arrives.

Sincerely,

_____ Perduellio

_____,

Have you been doing well? You’ve probably heard from his highness that I am fine despite what the rumours say. There are some things I found out that left me with more questions than answers. To solve that I will be visiting the World Tree. I only wrote this letter to inform you of that, so you won’t worry if ever you can’t contact me.

Sincerely,

Cale

Dear Cale,

I am doing well for the most part. But my body feels heavy these days along with a headache that will come and go. Don’t worry, the healer said it’s probably because of the weather and from me staring at documents too much. It will pass soon. 

You’re going to visit the World Tree? Be careful on your travels. I hope you get the answers you are looking for.

Sincerely,

_____

Dear Count _____,

I have heard from my eldest child that you are not feeling well. Some instances cannot be helped, but you must take care of yourself as much as possible. Do not be afraid to let your retainers and servants shoulder some of the work. You did not clean them up for nothing after all. 

After hearing about your condition I have ordered someone to send you some herbal tea that will help with your headaches. It can also improve your sleep quality. I would like to be there myself, but alas I must stay in the duchy for now.

I will make sure to visit you the first chance I get. Until then, take care of yourself and your health.

Sincerely,

Violan Henituse

Dear Duchess Violan,

I have received the herbal tea you have sent and truly works wonders. Some of my headaches are elevated and my sleep has improved these days. I shall use this tea well as thanks for your generosity. 

As another way to give my thanks, I have sent out a sample of a gem we are currently refining. The design is still in its early stage that’s why it may look a bit rough. I will make sure to send you another one once it’s complete. 

Sincerely,

_____ Perduellio

Dear _____-nim,

Good day _____-nim, are you doing well? Everyone in the duchy is worried about you as you have not responded to any of our letters for a while now. While taking care of work I have also noticed that the Perduellio Territory’s security has gotten tighter. They seem to be keeping something hush.

We are all worried about your silence. I sincerely hope that you are doing well and was just too busy to respond.

Please respond as soon as possible,

Basen Henituse

Dear Duke Henituse,

Good day duke, you may not be familiar with me so I shall introduce myself. I am Viscount Legalem, one of Count Perduellio’s retainers. I am sending this letter to inform you of the count’s condition. Our dear count has fallen unconscious and will not wake up. 

That may make you wonder why I am sending you a letter instead of contacting you through a communication device. I have three reasons to do so; (1) I want to respect Count _____’s decision. They have told me to contact you by letter if it’s not an emergency. I would like to honour that child’s decisions; (2) As I mentioned it is not an emergency, our healers have checked on them and said that nothing is wrong internally and they would be fine even in an unconscious state, and; (3) I have been told by Count _____ to contact either you or Commander Cale if something happens to them. I have no way of contacting the commander which is why I have turned to you.

Our healers and other experts who have checked on Count _____’s condition have found nothing wrong. However, I am still worried as they are not waking up no matter what we do. Thankfully, they are not injured, cursed, or poisoned. Regretfully, we still have not found the reason as to why they are unconscious.

The territory itself is doing well even in the absence of our count. Count _____ has always made sure to get ahead of their work as they said they aren’t sure when the commander will call for them. Nonetheless, our territory would very much appreciate it if you could lend some of your healers and experts to assess our count’s condition. A second opinion would be beneficial to see if our healers have missed anything.

Sincerely,

Viscount Legalem

[stariekis]

baby (cat) a board !

🛋️ pairing : 엔하이픈 ot7 + gn!reader . genre : fluff . cw : none ~ pls let me know if i should add smt .

— synopsis : a new addition to the family sounds like an amazing plan so why not adopt a kitty !

— note : bit of a tmi but cats are my favorite animal in the world and i wanted to write something like this bcs enha + cats = everything to me ! so here it is ~ hope you enjoy ! all kinds of feedback and reposts are appreciated my loves <3

heseeung :

— 'what are you talking about what is that cat distribution system'. you came back home one day after work with a little creature hiding in your tote bag. you told heeseung that the cat actually chose you that's how the cat distribution system works and now you have to keep it there's no other option. he let out the biggest laugh ever, you looked so cute with the small ball of fur in your hands. he could say no so when you asked for the second time if you can keep him he just nodded his head.

jay :

at first he might be a little hesitant — 'Honey i don't think it is a good idea, we have very busy lives who is going to take care of him?'. he was right though, but you wanted to adopt one for the longest time so, as soon as he said that to you, you started pouting at him — 'No y/n don't do this to me please oh gosh'. using your secret weapon (that's how you call it) you end up convincing him, telling you to take your cost and hop in the car. even though he wasn't a big fan and kinda allergic too he spent most of his free time playing with the kitty.

jake :

the biggest animal lover i know. he didn't let you say a word, as soon as you entered the house with the kitty he took the small animal in his arms — 'i do not care what you have to say he is our kitty now' he said, running back to your living room and sitting down on the sofa, playing with his new bestest friend. — 'well that was easy'. you thought, looking at your boyfriend who was being bitten by the kitty.

sunghoon :

he wasn't really sure either and, even though he refused a bit at first, he ends up loving the cat more than you. most of the time you would get back home to the sign of your boyfriend sleeping on the couch, the small ball of fur laying on top of him. because of that you teased him a lot, telling him how much he hated that idea of having a pet and now he event cuddle with him — 'he is cute baby what am i supposed to do' he said, signaling at the small kitty laying on the couch.

sunoo :

— 'omg love this is the cutest cat i've ever seen'. you showed him a picture of a baby cat that was up for adoption. you've always wanted a new pet, him being out most of the time makes you feel a bit lonely so why not adopt one — 'yeah we can go and pick him up together if you want to'. on you're way to the shelter you discussed name ideas, decided on what to buy, etc. he ended up naming him so you can think of him every time you call your new pet's name.

jungwon :

we all know that our wonie is allergic to cat's fur but how can he say no to you ?. when you came home all excited with the little creature hiding in your arms, your eyes shining and the biggest smile ever plastered on your face he knew he couldn't say no — 'Fine yeah me can keep it baby'. he even took you to different pet shops to buy toys and everything for the new family member, seeing you so happy makes his heart pound. he has the biggest soft spot on you.

ni-ki :

he would be the one bringing him home this time. remember that -key episode where he played with some kittens ? well, at the end of the day he took one home. he didn't bother telling you if you wanted to keep it or not, he just brought the little kitty home with him — 'You don't understand we need to keep him please babe' he was practically begging you on his knees at this point, putting it straight into your face telling you how cute he is, making you hold it and everything. at the end of the day you accept keeping the small animal, he was pretty cute after all and your boyfriend seems like the happiest man alive.

[avatarloverfrfr]

Dreamwalker Siblings

Chapter I: Cryo-sleep Masterlist Summary: Y/n and Jake Sully. Siblings, shipped off into the depths of space to explore the mysterious world of Pandora. Warnings: Mentions of death, reader is NOT excited at all, Constant reminder of deceased loved one. Word count: 3,6k

"You cannot ask this of us! Tommy is the scientist not us. He wanted to be shot light years into space, not us. We cannot do it." I shrieked, pleading with my brother for validation, but my cries were met with oppressive silence. His gaze fixed onto our fallen sibling, Tommy, robbed of life right before he went off to do the only thing that put a smile to his face. All sacrificed for the contents of his wallet.

"Your brother represented a significant investment, we'd urge you to accept taking over his contract." The man besides Jake had said, completely disregarding all that I had said. "I'm sure he would hate to have all his hard work go to waste, knowing someone so close to him would be able to continue his legacy." The second man, besides me, added with a curt nod.

Outrage boils within me at the audacity of these men, exploiting the loss of one of us, former triplets, as leverage against us. How dare they use Jake and I with their clear motives of greed, revealing to us that our worth to them is nothing but a budget they refuse to abandon.

"It'll be a fresh start, on a new world. And the pays good, very good." they said staring at Jake and I. Before I could even say something in retaliation. Jake had spoken for the first time that night. "We'll do it." Disbelief swept over me as I locked eyes with him. How could he agree so easily? How could he not see that these men were just using us— he probably could, yet chose to turn a bind eye.

"Perfect, Y/n we will get your Avatar ready, they will mature on the trip there." the men said walking out, leaving me in there with Jake.

"How could you just accept like that Jake. You caved! Just like that? You know they are just playing us, and you still went along with it! Don't you see–" I started, but he interrupted me. "Maybe you don't see it, but I do. We are dirt poor Y/n! Struggling... This cash could change everything. We could finally be able to live." he pleaded, desperate for understanding. "I could afford to use my legs again." he confessed.

While I was sitting there, next to my brother, a big whole blown right in the middle of our lives, I started having these dreams. Dreams that whispered secrets of possibility and untold wonders. Sooner or later though, you always have to wake up.

As I wake up, I glance around and it hits me, I'm in some sort of cryo pod. Flashbacks flood my mind, reminding me of the time before my life had got frozen, five years of my life, gone. The memories of Tommy's death, as if it was yesterday. 'We had to do it, so we could live." I think to myself, trying to find comfort in all of this.

"Rise and shine sleepy head." a doctor had greeted me as I exit the cryo pod I had spent the last five years of my life in. "We're here."

"Exo-packs on! Let's go! Exo packs on! Remember people, you lose that mask, you're unconscious in 20 seconds, and dead in four minutes–" I stopped listening to what the sergeant had to say. Looking around my eyes landing on Jake. We should not be here, this is not our home. But what's the point in dwelling now, there's no turning back. I think to myself while putting on my exo pack, adjusting it so oxygen could freely flow through.

"When that ramp comes down, go directly into the base. Do not stop! Go straight inside wait for my mark!" the sergeant yelled. Standing up I walk over to Jake who was still seated waiting for everyone in front of him to leave the air craft so that he was able to freely able to deploy his wheelchair.

"Let's go special case! Do not make me wait for you Sully's!" he barks. Not bothering to acknowledge him Jake and I walk off the ramp and onto Pandora, our "fresh start." Taking a long look around I spot soldiers, back on earth these guys were heroes, marines fighting for freedom. But out here they were all just a bunch of hired guns, serving the RDA until their last breath.

"You're not in Kansas anymore, you're on Pandora ladies and gentlemen–" the man, Quartrich, continued. Tommy was meant to be listening to this, not Jake and I.

"Excuse me. Excuse me. Jake!" a lanky man rushes up to us after the "safety brief." "You're Jake right? Tom's brother." he asked looking down at him to meet his eyes. I just stare at him, does he just not see me here?

"You look just like him." he says eyes finally landing on me. "Sorry– I forgot he had mentioned he had two siblings, Y/n. I'm Norm. Spellman. Went through Avatar training with him." he says leading us into some sort of bio-lab.

As Norm continues briefing us on the bio-lab procedures, my attention drifts, drawn to avatars in three separate cry-chambers. I approach them, circling until I stop at a particular one.

"Looks like him." Jake and I simultaneously say, not once taking our eyes off what our brother could have been.

"No, looks like you. This is your avatar now Jake." Norm reassures him placing a hand on Jakes shoulder before moving to the last tube in the bio-lab.

"And this is your avatar Y/n. She had to get to the lab as soon as possible, since you know–" Norm starts, but I cut in, "–I wasn't meant to be here. Yeah, I'm aware." I finish, stepping closer to my avatar.

She looks so much like me, except for the obvious differences. Blue skin, a queue, and her sheer size. "She's beautiful." I whisper, touching the glass, feeling a soft heartbeat pass between us.

"The idea is that every driver is matched to their own Avatar, so their nervous systems are in tune... Or something. That's why they offered us the gig. It's insanely expensive... Is this right? Do we just say whatever to the video log?" Jake questions turning to Norm and Max.

"And do we have to share the exact same camera to film these things?" I interject, trying to nudge Jake out of the screens view.

"Yeah, you both need to document everything you see, what you feel. Plus, you're twins, who knows if you both are able to feel the same emotions or not. It's all apart of the science." Norm explains, retuning to his work.

"Plus it'll keep you sane for the next six years," Norm adds chuckling.

"Not if I have to sit next to Mr. Jarhead it's not." I remark, rolling my eyes but smiling slightly.

"Look who's talking Miss. 'I might not be a marine, but I sure can beat your ass,' " Jake adds, playfully pushing me.

This was one the first times I had smiled since arriving to Pandora. Usually keeping a stoic face, only smiling around my brother. My only family, the only thing from my past life.

Entering the link room behind Norm and Max, we're greeted by a voice. "Who's got my goddamn cigarette?" a redheaded woman demands, emerging from one of the link pods.

"Grace Augustine is a legend. She's the head of the Avatar Program. She wrote the book, I mean literally write the book on Pandora botany." Norm gushes. "Well that's because she likes plants more than people." Max adds teasingly.

"Well, there she is, Cinderella back from the ball. Grace, I'd like you to meet Norm Spellman, and Jake and Y/n Sully." Max says pointing at each of us in turn.

"Norm, I've heard good things about you. How's your Na'vi?" she asks, completely ignoring my brother and me, then begins to speak in a language I can only assume is Na'vi.

"Uh- Grace, this is Jake and Y/n Sully," Max interjects, trying to redirect her attention.

"Yeah, yeah. I know who you are, and I don't need you. I need your brother. You know. the PhD who trained for years for this mission? Yeah him." she snaps.

"He's dead. We know it's a big inconvenience for everyone, including me." I reply bluntly. There's no need to sugar coat anything that's already happened.

"How much lab training have you had?" she asks, looking between Jake and I.

"We dissected a frog once." Jake simply states.

"You see? I mean, they're just pissing on us without even the courtesy of calling it rain. I mean hell, the girl isn't even supposed to be here! I'm going to Selfridge, this is such bullshit." she rants, storming off but not before putting out her cigar.

"Well she's kind." I remark dryly.

As Jake and I arrive precisely at the time Max had instructed us to the day before, 0800, Jake and I hasten to catch up with Grace and Norm, who are already stationed at the link pods.

"You're late Sully's. You're in there, you're here." Grace remarks, gesturing towards two pods for Jake and I, and we obediently follow her directions.

"How much have you both logged?" she inquires, turning to the screen besides Jakes link pod.

"Zip, but I read a manual." Jake replies with a nonchalant shrug, as he wheels over to his pod.

"I listened to him read it out loud, if that counts." I confess making my way to my own pod.

"Tell me you're joking." Grace says incredulously, as she abandons her work on Jakes screen to approach mine.

"So you just decided to venture out here, to the most hostile environment known to man with no training whatsoever and see how it went? What was going on through your head?" she questions, setting up both mine and Jakes link screens for launch.

"Maybe I was tired of doctors telling what I couldn't do." Jake retorts, lying down in this link pod. I look at him wondering if that is why he spared no chance in me saying anything back when those men asked us to take the place of Tommy, because he was tired of the life he had.

"Keep you arms in, heads down." Grace instructs, pushing me into my link bed before I had the chance to ask Jake what he had truly meant.

"Just relax and let your mind go blank." are the last words I hear Grace utter before she seals my link pod.

Off to the side, Max examines scans of Jake and my brain. Studying the intently, he remarks. "Jakes brain is gorgeous, with nice activity. However we're detecting some resistance in Y/n's brain. She's unconsciously pushing back against the transfer, if this continues it could potentially harm the link." he informs, turning to Grace for guidance.

"Once the link is established, it cannot be interrupted. It will only worsen the issue," Grace states matter-of-factly, keeping an eye on my Avatar. Stubborn and resistant to change- that's Grace's initial assessment of Y/n, even after less than 48 hrs of meeting her.

As my eyes flutter open, I'm greeted by a blinding light that pierces my eyes. A sharp ache throbs in my head, intensifying until two figures materialize before me- doctors, no doubt.

"She's awake. Y/n, can you hear me? Are you feeling alright?" the female doctor inquires, checking my expression for any sign of discomfort.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I reply, opting not to mention the pounding headache. Slowly, I sit up, only to find my hands adorned with five blue fingers.

"I made it." I murmur to myself in disbelief. Glancing around, I notice Jake already on his feet, a grin stretching across his face. He's standing, a sight I never thought I'd witness again, his legs finally functioning.

"Y/n you've got to see this. When's the last time you saw your brother standing tall, huh?" he exclaims, turning to face me while his tail knocks over everything in it's path.

Finally on my feet, I chuckle, "Bro, we're giants." The realisation hits me as I gaze at Jake and then towards the exit to find that he was already smiling at me– we're thinking the same thing. Tri– Twin telepathy perhaps?

Without a word Jake and I bolt, dodging Avatars engaged in a game of basketball, evading Norm and the two doctors running after us. We hurdle obstacles until a humanoid robot comes into view.

"Sorry! we both exclaim breathlessly, narrowly avoiding a collision as we skid to a stop near some flora. Catching our breath, we're approached by an avatar bearing striking resemblance to Grace.

"Hey, Sully's!" she calls out, closing in on us.

"Grace?" Jake questions, eyeing her up and down.

"Who else were you expecting numbnuts?" she retorts with a grin, with me laughing at the nickname Grace gave him.

As Jake and Grace catch up, I slip away into the area where Avatars are housed, searching for a change of attire. Opting for a top similar to Graces but in a deep shade of blue, that are about a shade darker than my current skin tone, pairing it with green cargo shorts. Hoping to blend in slightly to the flora and fauna of the forest.

Gazing up at the darkening sky, I realize it's nearly nightfall, meaning I had to delink for the night. "Alright, everyone, settle down! Lights out." Grace commands, ushering the remaining humans away.

"See you at dinner kiddos," she adds, flicking the lights off.

Lying back, I can still feel the remnants of the headache, but I decided to let sleep wash it away. Closing my eyes, I drift off into a peaceful slumber.

next II

Tag list: @pinkvrydag @neytirismissingtoe @youskawng @tsuteyssyulang @lylalaminated

[respectthepetty]

The Monster Next Door & Livid Lad

I squeezed in all three episodes of Monster Next Door while traveling with a 7" Chromebook, so now that I have truly no time and no patience (because this thirty image limit is stifling), I'm jumping straight into what I came for - COLORS!

The promo for this show gave me introverted Diew in blue and extroverted God in yellow/orange, which would make perfect sense for the characters and this story!

And the first episode started with God bursting onto the scene with his orange bike and yellow lightning bolt helmet versus Diew walking in his gray.

But I've seen this color-story before from another WeTV offering!

And in this story (Cooking Crush), there was a Blue Boy who didn't like people touching him, had a difficult time communicating, and lived a pretty isolated life.

But . . . that's because he wasn't really blue. He was livid!

Some history and a little bit of science: *deep breath* Livid is the term for the color "blue-gray" and comes from a Latin word meaning "a dull gray blue" however, we associate livid with red because red means anger which we also connect to heat and flames, but the hottest part of a flame is its center which is actually blue not red, so although in color theory we say warm colors are red, yellow, and orange, and cool colors are blue, green, and purple, in the universe, it's the opposite, so our Sun for example isn't that hot because it's only red, yellow, and orange because if our Sun was really hot, it'd be blue (or even white!), and we'd all be fried and dead because that'd be super duper uber hot! Make sense? *another deep breath* The point is that Diew is a Livid Lad.

He is gray-blue.

He is calm and stable like a Blue Boy. He is sad and lonely like a Gray Guy. He is rigid and smart like both.

But just like his fellow Livid Lad Ten in Cooking Crush, who gave the sweetest compliments then punched a guy, Diew is not to be toyed with.

So we see his notes in his color scheme telling God to stop being loud, stop giving him snacks, and stop drawing on the table.

Which brings me to God, who should be this bright and loud yellow/oranege extrovert according to the promo material for the show, but . . . once again, I've seen this color-story before, and as colorful as I thought Prem was compared to his Livid Lad, all roads lead to pink.

In Cooking Crush, it was stated often that Prem put his heart into cooking which is why people could taste the love in his food. Interesting.

The American baseball team Cleveland Indians changed its name and mascot in 2021 because it's the 21st-century and we need to stop doing offensive shit, but even with the name change to Cleveland Guardians, the team has always been a vibrant red.

I noticed immediately that the show is softening the red on God's body so it almost becomes pink when he gets help from Diew in the beginning, and it happens again when he reads the time-traveling romance novel Diew suggests since God is wearing a shirt from the American soda company Dr. Pepper, which its color is maroon(ish), yet in the show, it is soft.

But much like Cooking Crush's Prem, God seems like a Multicolored Menace compared to his Livid Lad.

He wears different colors while Diew wears mostly grays and blues.

His apartment has colorful cool lighting while Diew's apartment has warm natural-looking lighting.

And when he has a bad day at band practice, he loses his color.

But when God asked Diew to date him, he was wearing that soft Dr. Pepper shirt, and when Diew agreed to it a few nights later, Diew was wearing pink on his shirt, which is the first color we have seen on his body, and God was wearing gray. Diew also wore this shirt when he got Khun Shy, his turtle.

And when God just stands in complete silence eating a chocolate bar even though he doesn't like sweets but remembers that Diew likes eating chocolate to make himself happy, he is wearing blue.

But the thing is, Diew isn't just blue and God isn't all colorful, which is why this blueish-(purple) pink doesn't work.

God's core is pink because he puts his heart into what he does. He loves being with his friends (and hates being alone! Don't think I didn't pick that up when he mentioned he originally intended to have a roommate). He loves being on stage and playing music. He loves meeting new people and helping them. He's a lover!

He is bright pink when Diew takes care of him.

But he is also pink when he is giving his friend advice to sit in his feelings and to share them.

And that's why his sticky notes are pink.

These color-coded boys are communicating to each other in their own language and their own color by exchanging the notes. God is a kind and caring (and sometimes immature) Pink Person who gives love in all these tiny ways, and Diew is a calm and quiet (and sometimes a little pissed off) Livid Lad who puts up a fight in all these tiny ways, but when the wall between them (and their balconies) come down, they'll have to create a new middle ground between the Monster Next Door and a Livid Lad because wanting to put so much love into everything versus being so terrified to put love into anything is going to make them re-evaluate how to show love to each other.

They'll have to find ~balance~ not only with each other, but also within themselves.

[idyllcy]

there's no difference, i adore ya

word count: 6.5k || Medieval AU || Photo by Antibia

warnings: major character death, childbirth, non-explicit smut

summary: beginning too late, ending too soon

"Do you live waiting for something to happen?"

The question from your friend causes you to blink, confusion written all over your face as you pause in picking the fruit at the market.

"What?"

"I don't know. I heard that witch ask the question the other day, so I always wondered if we were supposed to do something instead of waiting for something to happen to us." She frowns. "That apple's too soft."

You grimace at the way it dents under your fingers, placing it back down. "Madam, you got any other fruit?"

"Unfortunately, the batch lately has just been bad." She shakes her head.

"And the prunes?"

She shakes her head. "The castle took all the good harvest to welcome the soldiers back from war."

"You must be relieved, madam. Your son and husband should return." You smile. "I heard the knights this year were exceptionally capable and there were no men dead amongst ours."

"Yes." She laughs, chest rumbling as your friend remembers something.

"Oh, goodness! That cute neighbor of mine is returning!" Your friend gasps.

"The one you've taken a liking to that your parents refused to wed you to?"

"Ugh, it's not my fault his family is gone! Instead, I am stuck with my good for nothing husband at home." She grumbles. "If only I was still available as you."

"How awful." You find a single good apple amongst the soft ones, asking the madam if you could take it. She nods, letting you go without a coin in her hand, somewhat happier now that her husband and son should be returning. You place the apple in your basket, wandering back home with your friend, festivities being put up as the two of you are pushed to the side, eyes wide and blinking in mild surprise as the knights march down the town. You glance at the men in armor, raising a brow at your friend when she squeals her neighbor's name, the man turns to stare into your eyes instead, your breath stuck in your throat as the sun goldens his blue eyes.

"He's looking this way!" She squeals.

"That is your neighbor?" You force yourself to look away from him, balancing yourself as she pretends to faint into your arms. "Was your neighbor not the village boy we met so long ago?"

"Yes, he had been promoted to our family knight at the time before the war, so he was by rule, our neighbor. It seems the king will promote him to something better instead now that he has come back from war victorious with the princess." She gushes. "Oh, good heavens. If only my parents had waited as I instructed them to! Look at how attractive of a man he has become!"

You turn to look back at him, surprised to see him stopped and still staring at you.

"Oh, goodness. It seems he is fond of you." Your friend mumbles, squealing as she smacks your arm. "Darling, talk to him!"

"He has just returned from war. It is not something I can fathom him doing."

As you say, the knight gets back to moving from the yell of another knight, his blue eyes burn into your mind as you wonder just what had you looking so lovely for him to be staring at you as that. You are not attractive. Your friend had been wedded immediately upon growing to marriable age, and your parents had tried time and time again to set you up, only for it to be dropped. You were not suitable. A better candidate had appeared. A woman more suited for their son had been suggested. It was never you. You had never been picked in the end. You do not find that it should be a problem. After all, you are still young, but there is a fear that gnaws at the back of your head that you will be unmarried by 20 and then too old for everyone else. No man covets an old woman.

Yet, you were a late bloomer anyway, so it is unsurprising that you had not been allowed to be wedded by the church until you had started bleeding.

Then, by that time, most of the men were already off to war, leaving you very few men, most of whom had already gotten married. Most other girls were wedded to the noblemen who did not need to fight in the time. You had not been a first choice to many of them because of the way you carried yourself. You could not be sold as an obedient wife out of a fear that your family would be condemned to death by your would-be husband's.

You are not wealthy in a land that only adores the wealthy.

"How was the parade, child?"

"It was alright." You smile at your mother. "I saw the knights return."

"Well, now that they are back, surely you can be wedded off." Your father sighs, tapping the table as your mother places down dinner.

"I got an apple from the madam at the market." You hand it to your mother, who rushes off and chatters about a pie, leaving you with your father.

"Is there a man you would like?"

"No." You pause, blue eyes flashing in your mind as you answer, causing you to stop.

"You do not look of such."

"Shame." You mumble. "I met eyes with a young knight today, but considering he is the leader of the group, surely he will be wedded to the princess as an excuse to hand him a title and some land."

"And if you are the second wife?"

"We are not the east, father." You thank your mother as she hands you a bowl, and your father starts eating.

"Did he stop to stare?"

"Yes."

"Oh, then surely he'll request of you from the king." Your mother laughs, placing her own plate down as she eats. "It is the same as your father had done. You would be surprised to know how certain your father had been that I was to be wed to him."

You entertain your mother's words, sure that such will not happen. Any man with their right mind would not choose a woman over a title, yet you are sure there are men as your father. Lovesick fools, your mother calls them. Your father had been so enamored with your mother, and despite the words of everyone around you insisting that your mother was plain and average, you thought of her to be lovely. Your mother was lovely. It was a sight to behold — your mother had been loved from the moment your father laid eyes on her, and you knew it well. It was rare, you think. Perhaps that is also why your father complains only verbally, never actively looking for a man for you. They had wedded late. Later than your current age. They had worried not, so neither should you.

"Good news will befall you soon." Your mother insists.

"I hope my husband at least received a title."

Your friend comes knocking for you to shop for food with her a week from then, arm hooked under yours, lips curled upwards as it only means she has some groundbreaking news to let you know of.

"Pray tell, what is this news this time?"

"Oh, you know me so well." She grins. "That knight from our house? Promoted."

"Promoted? To what? Has he been wedded to the princess?"

"No, the princess was married off to a neighboring nation. You know, the king has a young son now, after all." She waves her hand. "The title of viscount was bestowed upon him by the king."

"And?"

"And?? That means he is of marriable age, unwed, and attractive! You should have your parents suggest of you to him!"

"He's a noble now. There is no chance that he will go searching for someone not of noble background." You hum. "Why wed in a pool of the poor when the rich are options."

"You know, he is a new noble after all. There is little chance that he will wed with someone of the nobles."

"Surely that face of his is good for something." You purchase pears this time around, humming as you hand the woman a dozen eggs for the basket of pears.

"Look!"

"At—" You tense up when you notice your friend is no longer behind you and it is a man, and you turn slowly, taking a step forwards as you do, blinking at the knight that has so kindly decided to appear out of nowhere. "Sir."

"Mistress." He places his hand on his chest, bowing gently as you muster a smile.

"Pray tell, knight, if there is something that I could be help of?"

"Your parents, mistress."

"I am not of noble descent. There is no need to refer to me of such name."

"I assure you, there will be soon." He nods. "Unless you have complaints?"

"There are none, I assure you. I shall bring you to my mother and father."

Your friend had run off long ago, and when you finally glance up to look at her, she is far down the road on her way home, waving at you dramatically as you sigh.

"You are tired?"

"No, knight. My friend is just full of life, you see." You nod at him to follow you, stepping down a set of stairs as you arrive at your home, your voice meeting an empty home as you have him follow you to the yard.

"I am back with the pears... and a knight."

Your father looks up, raising a brow at the knight as he laughs.

"Sir Leon, was it? Matthew of York was gabbing of the new squadron leader. It must have been you, considering those blue eyes of yours."

"Honored, sir." The knight, Leon, follows your father as you take over his work with the chickens, chasing one down and grabbing it by the wing, flipping it upside down as your mother claps.

"That one will do for dinner." She hums. "Let's feather the bird."

"Yes, ma."

You are to be wedded to Leon. It was hard to turn down a man who was higher standing than both of your parents, and despite your father being his superior previously, there was no argument or complaint raised from you, so it was fine to proceed with the arrangement. You have no complaints if you are marrying... noble, or whatnot. It is not of your concern. You are just grateful that you are no longer unwed. At least the wives with no better to do will stop sneering at you.

Though, they would start sneering of how you seduced the man with your figure. Truly, there is nothing you can do that would satisfy the mouthes of the bored.

"If there is any one who does not will for the couple to be wedded, speak now or forever hold your peace."

You blink at the way your to-be husband holds your hands, his calloused ones from the sword against your softer ones. Your hands are no better, still rough from the livestock, slightly bruised from the work that you had been raised to do. You had only stopped once your father realized that you'd be wedded better if your hands had been well kept. Rough hands on a woman meant that she was of lower standing in class. Your father didn't care, but it also mattered that you would marry well. To be wedded to a bad man was enough to age your father too many years. The end of his life was approaching, after all. It's surprising that your mother had even survived childbirth of you. Your father almost didn't— you're surprised they did not have more to tend to the livestock. Something about your mother suffering too much while having you to have another. You suppose if love is a concept, then it would be your mother and father.

"I pray he shall take care of you the same way your father does me." Your mother tells you, wedding clothes draped over you as you are wed at the chapel, exchange and officiation of the ceremony done by the priest, your bowed head and an exchange of rings that are surprising quality from a knight. The gold band slid to your finger and to his, the gold glistening against your skin as you stare up at Leon. Your husband, now. The man whom you barely knew would be the man you are to spend the rest of your life together with. However long that life of yours would be.

"And the consummation." The priest nods.

"We shall deal with such in our abode. Come on."

You follow Leon as he brings you, fingers entwined with yours as he leads you through the paths, lips curled upwards once you arrive at his residence, stopping to stare at all the maids and aides that you're sure Leon isn't any more familiar with than you. How does one manage wealth after living their whole life as a commoner? You are sure there is a servant for that, but you are also certain that you will need to watch everything to make sure the wealth is built and not squandered. Does your husband know of such? There is too much to think of.

"Overwhelmed?" He smiles at you, and you sigh.

"I will have to grow familiar with it." You follow him as he leads you to the bedroom, standing to the side as you blink at him and then the bed, preparing to strip.

"If you do not—"

"It is my duty." You continue, cutting him off. "I bed of you to be quick. I have heard it can be painful."

"If you are not prepared." He steps towards you, letting you sit down on the bed, kneeling as you drop the inner layer.

"And how are you to have child with me if you are on the ground?"

"I will not hurt you. I could not dream of it." He has you sit, undressing himself as well, spitting on his fingers.

"Do the men of the battlefield know of this?"

"They are the ones who taught me, despite my status as commander." He pries your legs open, staring up at you, waiting for a nod.

"And the brothels?"

"You learn much just by observing." He pauses. "It is a sin, is it not?"

"There are so many worse sins out there. As long as it does not hurt."

"I would not wish of it."

Marriage consummation is supposedly painful, but Leon puts the skills of the battlefield to good use, visits to the brothel with his soldiers long engrained in his soul, your body thoroughly spent as though you had been tending to the livestock, mark of your nails raked down your husband's back with a red previously unknown to you, your exhaustion much more apparent when the maids wake you the next day — your husband missing, and you are tended to and bathed, the maids whispering amongst themselves of the visible bruises left on your neck. Abuse or adoration, they wonder. Is their master as cruel as to bring back a woman just to abuse her? You know the answer, yet the embarrassment stops you from speaking up.

You meet your husband in his garden, the man with his sword out, swinging and training with the guards of his new residence, years of heavy armory apparent in his stature, body glistening under the sun, breathless blue eyes bright under the morning rays. You do not speak or move, waving the maids off as they scatter, and you take a seat on the side, blinking slowly as you take in the sight of your husband. Do you love him? Will you love him? What is love, truly? Does father have truly so much faith in you as to fall in love with a man you had only met once? Is it truly better to marry a man who adores you than to marry a man whom you adore?

"Wife." He brightens at the sight of you, forcing the knight's sword away with his own, rushing over to you as though he were some overgrown hound, lowering himself onto one knee as he checks your skin, asking you of your morning — are you alright? are you growing accustomed to the life in his residence? do you require of anything? how about a new gown? a visit to your companion's? how about a walk? He is an overgrown docga, you find. You wonder if it was normal to equate your husband to an animal, but as you find yourself running your hand through his dirty hair without much a second thought and ruffling his hair, you wonder if you had accidentally wounded your husband's pride.

Instead, you are met with a laugh, his cheeks red as he leans his head further into your touch.

"Should we fetch a hound, dear wife?"

"My apologies, Sir Leon." You cough, pulling your hands away from his hair. "It was—"

"Leon is fine, dear wife." He hums. "I am your husband now. There is no need to be formal."

"Do excuse me, for we barely know each other."

"I am most certain you are the one."

You are not sure how he is certain, but the way he beholds you with such fondness in his eyes leaves no argument for your futile thoughts.

You are certain that there would be nowhere else where a man could behold you in such light.

"Surely?"

"You are sent by the Lord himself." He rests his forehead on your hands, humming. "There is no larger grace than that of the moment I first met eyes with you."

You give him a laugh that can only mean you are only half-convinced. Yet, you do not make mention that you do not believe him. There is only so much that you can experience before you pass. Your husband will be sent to war in time again as his role of knight, and you will have children and possibly pass before you get to see him older with age. You wonder if you will bear him a son at the very least. An heir to carry on the name that has so mournfully ended with your birth because of your father's choice to protect your mother.

"Rest here. I shall return in a little time." Leon offers you a smile. "And I shall bring you around the garden when I do."

He offers you a kiss to the bone by your eye, calloused fingers against soft skin as he smiles.

You leave him with silence, eyes back to watching the way he continues with training his own guards. He prefers to do many things on his own, hands laboring out in the fields of the garden, pruning the trees and asking for your opinion on what flowers sounded pretty. He does not expect you to know which ones will be pretty since he does not either, but he includes you, letting you sit on the stone bench as he discusses with the hired gardener, listening intently as he's told which flower combinations work best.

"And you, wife?"

"Roses are fine, Leon."

Leon nods, continuing his conversation, and you wonder if this is a man hurt by war and worn down by years of fighting. It is a valiant thing — to be kind even after war. It is an effort to choose to be one way when it is much easier to be another. You fear that you are too plain to stand next to him. When the sun shines, does everyone not flock to bask in the glow of gold? You bask in it on your own, your husband far too attached to you to even consider basking someone else in the shine of his light. It is reserved for you and you alone, and you find that there are women who dream of such warmth.

"Shall we share a chamber, wife?"

"It is not customary not to, no?" You raise a brow. "There is no reason to, Leon."

"Is it so wrong to wish to be by my wife?"

"You spoil me rotten."

"If not me, then who?"

You move into Leon's room, your closet moving alongside you, maids whispering amongst themselves of how strange it is that the master would mention residing with the mistress if not to have a child. Yet, when it is night and Leon pulls you to the balcony with a duvet wrapped around you as he kneels by your feet and shows you the stars, you wonder if there is some way you can love him back. Will time make the heart grow fonder? Will you learn to love Leon the way he deserves to be adored by the time that you both have children? You do not want such a curse to befall your children.

"And that one is Vega."

"The merchant the other day told tales of her and Altair."

"So in love that they neglected their duties, was it?" You stare up. "How I wish that were me."

"Am I not loveable, wife?"

"No, you deserve far more affection than that I can offer to you." You hum, pulling him up to have a seat by you.

"We have all the time for such."

"Once an heir is born, then we will have less." You hum. "There is always a chance I will pass during childbirth, after all."

"That will not happen." He hums. "I assure you. I shall not bed you until you are comfortable with me as I am you."

"It will take a while, then. Neither of us are young anymore, husband."

"It is alright. If we pass without an heir, then I shall return everything to the princess in my will." He smiles. "There is no rush, beloved."

"I fear that while you do not, I will."

You fall into a mundane life with Leon, taking a stroll in the garden in the morning to check on the roses and their growing progress, eating with him in the hall, and then the two of you separate for you to continue your instrument lessons while he trains the knights. You meet again at night before bed, making use of your time by engaging in conversation, making mention of all that you had done in the day. Is there truly anything new? You do not know. Just what does your husband see in you to spoil you to extent?

"I shall be heading to town." You pull for your old clothes when you were a commoner, refusing the maids' aide to at least make you presentable, and you palm the dry dirt, shaking it into your hair. You look like how you did a long time ago. You nearly do not recognize yourself. You have grown used to the artistry of your day to day life and forgotten your roots.

You meet up with your friend, smiling as she is in her commoner clothes as well.

"So? How's marriage?"

"It is alright." You hum. "Not much has occurred."

"Truly?"

"Truly." You glance at the apples on display. "He refuses to bed me until I can love him."

"How could you not? He has such a charming visage."

"Perhaps something holds me back." You glance at the witch on the street. "Oh, yes, whatever happened to Adaline?"

"Oh, it seems she had been wedded off to the neighboring estate." She taps her chin. "The duchy of Wellesley, if I remember correctly."

You wonder how she is doing. No, you should not wonder over such. The two of you are long gone. It had been gone the second she decided she would be the one rather than you. The king has promised your husband a life of retirement now that Leon is wedded to you. Until you are with an heir, he is not allowed to leave the walls of the kingdom. Something about how Leon needed children or else one of the greatest knights in history would go down as a knight without lineage. You're sure your children would love to hear of their father's achievements in war.

"Do you want children?" You glance at Leon step by you, wine handed to you as you stare down at the garden.

"Why would I not?"

"You do not bed me, insisting that I must love you before have children. We have our lives for the love you crave for me to feel." You press the drink to your lips, staring out. "I will age, and soon, I will not be able to bear children for you."

"That is fine." Leon insists, leaning on the railing. "Children or not, you are more valuable."

"What value do you find in me? Truly, I am none more than your wife. I do not beg, whine, nor give affection to you. What do you see in me to cause you to believe that I am deserving of all of this love?"

"Is it so wrong to love someone?"

You finish the last of your wine, blinking slowly. "No, just not me."

Leon is infatuated with you. Do you know why? You could not care less. All you are to do is bear a child for your husband and move on with life. If you pass, then you pass. If you stay, then you raise the child with your husband — it is that simple. That is what you are to do. The thought of it makes you seem plain and unwanted, eyes blinking slowly as you stare at the witch across from you in the square, raising a brow when your friend yells out an all-too-familiar name.

"Adaline!"

That gets your attention.

"Adaline." You breathe the name as though it's second nature, fingers twitching by your side, heart hammering in your chest.

Yet, she disappears back into the crowd, and all chasing is futile, your legs stuck in place as the clouds of rain brew over your head, looming over both your heart and soul as you rush back to the estate, clothes soaked through and muddied with the dirt from rushing.

"Wife." Leon calls for the servants immediately, drying you up by the fire as he leans against the wall behind you, eyes stuck on your figure as you speak not. "Shall we rest?'

"You not need to be so considerate of me, husband." You stare at the fire, warm colors burning in your eyes as you wave the servant off. "I know you are curious."

"I am fine with you leaving the estate. I only wish that you would be slightly more honest with me when you do."

"I miss an old friend despite her betrayal. It is that simple." You turn around to stare at him. "It is complicated, my heart. Please take a seat."

"Will you tell me?"

"If I collect myself first."

The fire crackles in your eyes, ashes burning and shattering as you stare, words tumbling out of your heart, eyes weary with an age that should not be possible to you. You look both wounded and aged. Leon has only ever seen those eyes on the men who live til sixty, white visible in both their hair and eyes, old age consuming them until they are a shell of their previous self. You should not be capable of such emotion. Leon wonders if that is what stops you from loving him how you wish you could.

"It seemed you shared quite the bond."

"Dare I say it, I believe I had loved her." You sigh. "How heretical of me."

"The bond you establish with the one you lose can not be broken, beloved." Leon hums. "Do visit her, will you? I assure you, she misses you."

"How can you be so sure?"

"The heart knows what it does."

You return to the market, stuck staring at the new woman in red, lips and cheeks rouge with blood, blinking when you remember who she is now.

"Witch." You smile.

"Ah, dearest. What brings you to me? Your friend visited last, not you." She tilts her head. "Concerning your husband?"

"You asked my friend once."

"Do you live waiting for something to happen." She hums. "And?"

"She asked me, and surely, after that, I was wedded despite not doing anything." You hum. "Let me treat you at the pub, I insist."

"And what do you have to treat me for?"

You lower your voice, humming slowly. "Is there a reason to treat an old friend to a drink?"

"I am afraid—"

"Adaline." You call her by name, watching as she tenses under your grip. "I beg of you, speak to me."

"What is there to speak of?"

"How is life? Why have you decided to return? Is it true that your husband has fallen ill?"

"I do not care for that man. I took the scar for you. It is that simple."

"So the rumors were true." You reach out for her forearm, squeezing as she grimaces. "He had sold you."

"It was not something I could not handle."

"There was no need. Mother could have rejected on our behalf." You whisper. "He would not have won against father's blade."

"I had to. I could not let the others take the hit in our village. Everyone raised me, so it was only fair that I would pay them back with the same love."

Your expression falls, eyes hurt as she lowers her voice under the moon.

"I sent your husband your way." Adaline swallows. "He had visited the brothel, ending up in my hand, and for that moment in time, all I could imagine was how... sweet and loving he would have been if he met you. I told him of a girl with breathtaking eyes and brilliant features, telling him all that you had always adored. I had prayed earnestly that he would find you and you would be the one. I wished that you would not have to suffer the same fate as I."

"Why did you take the marriage in my stead?"

"I could survive being sold off, you could not." She whispers. "Your hands only know the warmth of your loved ones and the livestock in your home. My hands have become rough because of the blade. Beloved, it was for you. It was always for you."

"Then return to me. Return to me if I am your beloved."

"Your husband could not allow such a thing."

"You do not know that." You mumble. "I beg of you. I shall kneel if needed. Return to me, my moon."

Adaline shakes her head, offering you a gentle squeeze of your hand instead, taking two steps back before retreating into the shadows where you can no longer find her. You stay standing, eyes trailed on where she was last in the shadow until Leon finds you in the dust, hands sliding over your shoulders as you stand there and let out silent tears.

"Beloved."

Leon does not answer, so you try again.

"Husband, beloved."

"Yes?"

"Let us return home."

"Of course."

You heal after that, affection easier at your fingertips when you reach for Leon, lips curled upwards when you rub your eyes at waking.

"How are you, wife?"

"I am alright, beloved." You smile at him, lips pulled up at the edges, sun glowing against your husband as he covers your eyes. "my apologies you had to tangle yourself with my mess."

"That is quite alright." He whispers, mug handed to you as you blink up at him. "Do you feel better?"

"Yes." You whisper. "I promise."

"Good." He mumbles. "Shall we dine?"

"Yes."

The mess of strings doesn't untangle immediately. Leon notices that you are more gentle, fingers kind against his while the two of you walk in the garden, hand tucked around his arm as you let him tell you how the flowers have been. You tell him you can deal with the garden now that you have fully settled into the role of his wife, and he tells you he is alright with it. There is not much to do, and even when you watch jousting with Leon and enjoy dinner with the king every now and then, life is simple.

You're not too sure if you're content with living like that.

"Shall we try for child?"

Leon takes your offer this time. You insist that you must bear him a son, and you seem to be anxious of time. His hands are calloused against yours, bruises of purple on your skin, the sound of your cries echoing down the hall of the residence, quiet prayers that you would be with child spreading through the hall through rumors, and the day that the alcohol finally reacts, you exhale. Leon takes extra care of you during the time, listening to the priests as they pray for you to be with son, but Leon does not care. He asks for prayers for your safety instead. There is always a sense of forbearing because you shake your head when he requests for your health.

"Beloved, you love me."

"I do." You hum.

"Then why do you not let me love you back?"

You do not answer, staring out at the flowers instead.

"If it is a daughter, I do earnestly hope that I get to braid flowers into her hair." You mumble. "And if it is a son, then I have served my purpose."

"I do hope that she is a daughter. That way, you will still think you are use to me."

"And then?"

"And then, I would still lay bare with you, skin soft against mine."

Your remaining days are spent walking with your husband, pregnancy heavy on your body as your back is sore, eyes distant as Leon seems to ponder over what is on your mind. His hands are gentle with your feet, callouses rough against your fingers as you continue staring at the sunset.

"We should prepare for a grave."

"For whom?"

"I do not know. Where do you think it would be nice to be buried?"

"And why not the garden?"

"At the center of the maze?"

Leon gets the sense that you have made peace with the idea of death one day. You seem to be prepared to pass at all times, and you refuse to share whether or not it is pregnancy-related. Instead, you tell him of how you would like to prepare your grave, telling him of flowers that he should plant by them, and he tells you not to worry. You will survive, he tells you. He tells you that you will live, and in the case that a decision must be made, it must be you saved over the child.

You offer him a sad smile in response.

When the child arrives, you are tended to, Leon praying quietly outside of your room, managing the household's affairs from the outside of your door at all times, ignoring the desk that he has, settling for a chair outside of the room you are in. The sound of your agony rattles the walls of the estate, and Leon furrows his brows, pacing back and forth, growing restless when the cries of a child is heard, the nurses opening the door as you offer Leon a sad smile.

"You must use the wet nurse." You whisper.

"Of course I will." He mumbles, forehead pressed to yours as he rests his hand on the child's blanket. "It will be for you."

"No." You whisper. "It will be for the child."

Leon furrows his brows, blinking at you as you offer him a sad smile.

"It is fortunate that it is a son."

"No." He mumbles. "No, no. Beloved, do not say that."

"I have lost too much blood." You whisper. "It is a son. It is your son."

"I do not want him if it means the loss of you." He mumbles. "Beloved, no. no. No."

"It is unfortunate." Your voice grows weak, the nurses trying their best to clean you up. "I would have enjoyed being your wife for just a little longer."

Leon yells as the nurses dive in to try and help you, and Leon watches in horror in the corner of the room as you close your eyes, body relaxing, There is a slight smile on your face, and Leon watches in horror as you look so peaceful, the child crying for your warmth as death steals it from him, and Leon's warmth replacing your stolen one as he holds the child to him. The crying does not stop, but neither does the horror on Leon's face as the nun shakes her head, offering a look of pity to Leon as he gasps for air.

The boy cries in his arms, a child's cries ringing in his ears as the news of your death rings as well, and the wet nurse taking the child as Leon steadies himself with the chair, blinking slowly as he processes the news. The world has ended. The battle has left him with nothing, and he is back in the war. It is a flood of memories, flushing down his system as he stands there, numb with the thought of you having passes, his steps heavy as he walks to you, taking your hand in his, ring on your finger as he blinks slowly. The news must spread.

He must tell your parents that he has killed their beloved daughter for the sake of his son.

He must tell your friend that you have passed to bear him a son.

He must tell Adaline that you have passed.

He must live with the guilt that he has caused you to pass because he had not been a good husband — that the heavens must have struck you down because he had been unfaithful, that he had not loved you as he should have the way God ordained. Instead, he now bears the responsibility of a son, small hands delicate against his, your cold ones returned to the ground in the garden.

You had known. Unconsciously, you had known.

Leon had picked it up too. You had been preparing to let him down slowly — gently, dare he say it.

But you have passed, and he is left where you have left him, hands calloused compared to yours, fingers rougher than yours would have been. He is not fit to raise a child without you. Instead, the bundle of what should have been joy is just a bundle in his arms, and when he finds your features on his son, he is full of the same bitterness he is sure you felt when you had been left behind. You would not like that.

He tries to imagine what you would do.

Your hands would be gentle while tending to the baby.

You would watch as Leon teaches the child to wield the sword.

You would scold the boy for poor courtesy — you would reprimand him for being unkind to others.

You would watch as he falls in love and weds, bands on his fingers, hair like yours fluttering in the wind of the chapel as he gives his heart to her.

And, he's sure you would have been proud when Leon is buried next to you in your garden of love.

Perhaps, then, he shall find you once more.