#I hope this is fun to read!

[shady-tavern]

Perfect Nemesis Part One

As usual with all my hero and villain stories, this one has a warning for blood and injury, though nothing too graphic will be described.

***

You tasted sweat and dust on your tongue, the ground beneath you cracked and half crumbled and your ears rang. You couldn’t make yourself move, your limbs too heavy and hurt radiated in a big, cresting wave through your body.

You couldn’t breathe as someone loomed over you, scuffed boots with white laces appearing in your vision. The hand that gripped you and dragged you to your feet, your costume torn and blood seeping past to stain the colorful material, was icy. The touch felt searing with how cold it was and you were terrified.

You were dragged up until you met burning red eyes and you tried to fight, but your body wouldn’t move. A second hand rose, magic winding around the villain’s fingers and their grin was mean and terrible and full of ugly, righteous glee.

You didn’t want them to touch you, you tried to pull away, but their fingers pressed against your chest and you were going to die it hurt so much -

You woke with a desperate gasp, as though you had held your breath in your sleep. You fought free of your blankets, arms trembling and you sat up, pressing a hand over your chest. Your heart was pounding.

Just a dream. Just a nightmare.

You sagged back against your pillows, wiping sweat from your brow with trembling fingers. Just a dream. You stared up at the ceiling, the slowly rising sun outside just barely casting it’s first light past your windows.

You managed to slow your breathing, going through your grounding techniques until you no longer felt the phantom press of pebbles, until your tongue stopped tasting like dust and sweat. Until you no longer felt that terrible, cold hand press against your chest, about to rip everything you were and held dear away from you.

As got out of bed, you still felt uneasy down to your bones, nervous in a way you knew would last for hours. A sort of anxiety that haunted your bones like ghosts haunted old, abandoned houses.

Today would not be a good day.

Your hand fell to the ring you always wore, gripping it and the surrounding fingers tightly. It was made of simple, plain iron, scratched up and a little dinged in one or two spots after years of accompanying you through battles.

People had called it ugly in the past. Your last boyfriend had even tried to convince you to take it off for good, offering you a prettier ring in exchange. You hadn’t been able to tell him that you needed this ring.

You would never forget the villain who had attacked you back when you had been a sidekick, while the Hero Society had approved of your rise in rank to become a full fledged hero soon. 

Your mentor had been so proud, had helped you with the paperwork to apply for the promotion. She had even made sure you’d get to live and work somewhere you wanted instead of getting a random, open position.

The villain, on your last day as a sidekick, had utterly wiped the floor with you. He had sneered down at you when you had lain on the ground before him in that half-finished parking lot, construction equipment everywhere. 

You’d never forget the dark look in his eyes. The hatred in his voice as he had cursed you, his magic so thick it had choked you nearly unconscious.

Your mentor had shown up back then before he had been able to complete the spell, so he had quickly adjusted, cursing you to lose something vital instead of leaving you crippled inside and out for life.

Your mentor had stopped you when you had gone unhinged after the curse had taken hold. Pain and a sudden lack, an absence inside of you had had you howling with something that would have been grief had you still been capable of feeling such things.

Your mentor had restrained you, had kept you safe and comfortable and contained as others had come in to help. No one had been able to break the curse, but they had been able to do something else instead.

The moment the ring had been slipped on it had felt like you had been whole again after having been split in two, wandering around with only one eye and one ear and one half of a working tongue and mouth. Without the ring, everything had been wrong, you had seen and perceived the world in a warped, half-alive at best manner.

Because it wasn’t just simply empathy that the villain had taken away from you. That was only what other people called it, what you even called it to make it easier for others to understand. The villain had taken away everything good, everything warm and soft and capable of kindness and care within you. Kindness towards others and yourself.

Only after empathy had gotten ripped out of you had you understood just how intricately it had been tied to who you were as a person. How much it had driven you and your desire to do good, even if you didn’t always like people or felt up to the task.

Your empathy had made you hand-craft gifts for loved ones, had made sure you gave pep-talks to yourself and went to therapy. It made sure you got bubble baths and bought your favorite chocolate and took the time to make a good meal on your days off. It made sunrises bright and hopeful and made you dance and sing to music, no matter how silly you might otherwise feel.

Your empathy had made you feel alive.

You had never once taken the ring off after receiving it, vividly remembering the days without it. You had spent all that time not caring for other lives or for big and small wonders and pleasures.

How the people you loved and cared about had been less than strangers. They had felt like dust, like something you could and would carelessly wipe aside. Wipe out even should you consider it necessary. Everything within you had been dead and barren, salted earth after a war had left everything razed to the ground.

The moment the ring was considered a success and you had returned home safely, your mentor had gone on a hunt, capturing the villain who had done this to you. He had gotten dragged in front of a jury and sentenced to prison for life.

He had refused to remove the curse, no matter the threats and bargains people offered. He had said that the Society was welcome to torture and kill him, he would never let go of this final victory over them all.

'Besides, even if I wanted to, I could not remove it,' he had said with a haughty, victorious tilt of his head. 'It would take something quite awful indeed to even get a hold of the curse and something else entirely to remove it. I won’t say more on the matter.'

And he hadn’t.

'Why?' your mentor had snarled, standing half in front of you. And while she had always been on the slim and short side, right now she was bristling and tense like a lion in front of her cub and you had felt unexpectedly safe.

The villain had looked at you and all those sparks of safety had died as surely as stars in the night sky.

'Because you are good,’ he had told you, dark and bitter. 'Because you save people and no one saved me when I needed a hero.'

Even after six years and a lot of therapy you still remembered that moment vividly. You still had nightmares. You had never stopped being terrified of losing the ring one day. It was a constant fear that lived under your skin and made you paranoid. You checked if the ring was there multiple times throughout the day, making sure it hadn’t come lose or started to slip.

So no, today would not be a good day, but the world didn’t care about that. You dragged yourself out of bed to get ready, staring at your hero costume as you brushed your teeth. After getting cursed you had bothered the Society to get you a new costume, your mentor supporting you every step of the way.

It had felt wrong to go with the bright colors and a metallic H on your back you had chosen previously. You had wanted to call yourself Hopeful as a hero. Corny, yes and absolutely a little bit kitschy, but you had liked the idea of giving people hope.

You hadn’t been able to go through with it after the words the villain had spat at you, after knowing how close you now were to losing everything that made you you. A small band of iron was all that stood between you and walking through the world torn apart inside.

Imagination you called yourself these days, after your powers. It was, ironically, rather unimaginative, but when you had to re-do your paperwork, you hadn’t been able to come up with something better. You still weren’t able to think of a better hero name and by now you didn’t care to. People knew you as Imagination and that worked just fine.

You bagged your costume and gear in a nondescript sport’s bag and went to a hidden office of the Society. This one masqueraded as a travel agency and you got dressed in your separate dressing room, before you set foot into the backroom. 

You weren’t the only one ready to clock in to work and you exchanged a friendly greeting with your colleague and friend, your partner in this part of the city.

Peony was a hero capable of growing all kinds of plants and flowers at will and he had an innate kindness to him that made him very pleasant company indeed. 

He always decorated his hair with a crown of peonies and his costume with whatever flower he liked that day. He gave flowers to anyone sad or upset when he worked in order to cheer them up. Alongside with you he had a high track record of turning villains around and ending fights peacefully.

Or rather, you turned new villains around, for the older or well established ones would have only laughed and spat at your efforts before trying to tear you to shreds. Not everyone wanted to change. Not everyone wanted to be saved.

It had been hard at first to make yourself soft towards young, inexperienced villains, but you hadn’t wanted to become bitter and cynic after getting hurt. After getting cursed forever.

Countless hours of therapy and hard training had ensured you could take the chance of talking villains down if they seemed receptive. Of course some had tried to backstab you, but there were enough people who were just desperate or hurt and often enough they just needed someone to offer a helping hand. They just needed a little bit of kindness.

'No one saved me when I needed a hero'. Sometimes that accusation bounced around your head restlessly, no matter how much good you did. Those hate filled eyes followed you into your dreams.

"Are you alright?" Peony asked, carefully feeling along his glued down mask, making sure it had dried well. The last thing any of you wanted was to have your masks torn off by villains or overly invasive paparazzi. Those existed too, irritatingly enough. "You look tired."

"I’m fine," you lied. Today was a bad day and it would pass, you reminded yourself. You’d be more careful and you’d truck through your work hours and tonight you’d go and call your therapist and try to get back on track in time for work tomorrow.

"Hm." Peony hummed softly and a moment later he held out his hands, a flower crown woven out of small, magenta lilacs and dark blue cornflowers rested on his palms. Like the colors of your suit, only less muted. "For a little bit of good luck," he said with a warm, kind smile.

You felt yourself soften, smiling back at him and bowing forward a bit so he could put it on your head. "Thank you."

"Of course, I know we don’t get to hang out outside of work, because of secret identities and all, but you’re my friend," he said with a warm smile. "And we have each other’s back, always. Radio me in if you need some company or assistance today, alright?"

"Alright," you said and you knew that Peony would never judge you for needing a bit of help. You had helped him out a couple of times when he had had bad days and he understood what it felt like to have the past snap at your heels like hungry hounds.

There was hardly a hero who didn’t carry around some shadow, some memory of terror and defeat. Some had it worse than others, but sooner or later everyone met a villain that crushed them under their heel.

Some heroes had managed to rise to the occasion and had defeated the villain at long last, others had needed help and backup to take down the one who had tried to break them. Some never again returned to active duty.

You made sure your gloves were secure so your ring could never, ever slip off during a fight. It was, at this point, the single most important thing about your outfit, aside from it’s protective properties.

Your sleeves were even designed to make sure your gloves stayed in place by you pulling the cuffs over the gloves, keeping the hem in place with thumb holes. You could not risk losing the ring. You would not ever risk it. Besides, gloves were almost expected in your field of work, no matter if one was a villain or hero.

Your work day started out quietly enough. People waved at you, you posed for a few pictures, making sure to paste your signature smile onto your face. Just because you wanted to go crawl under a blanket and watch TV the rest of the day didn’t mean you had to let others know.

You helped a lost girl find her fathers and carried the groceries of an elderly couple up the stairs to their front door. Simple, little things that actually made you happy. This was what you wished being a hero could be all about more often. Just walking through the streets, helping anyone who needed a hand.

Right before your lunch break - because of course villains had to have awful timing - you heard the sound of something splintering. It didn’t quite sound like the sharp, high-pitched sound of glass, nor the gravelly crack of asphalt and stone or the screech and snap of metal.

Jolting around, you stilled when you saw cracks spidering through the air itself, as though part of the world had turned into a mirror someone had punched. You had just half a second to recognize those powers, before you saw him.

Endless.

A villain with reality manipulating and altering powers who should not be here. This was not his city. You hadn’t heard of him losing a territory battle or handing his territory over to someone else either.

You had just a moment to feel utter confusion mingled in alarm, before those eyes found you. Ones that held an intense glow of magic and a grin curled across his face. It wasn’t hard for you two to recognize each other as enemies, not with the masks and armored costumes.

Your muted magenta and dark blue, his black with gleaming, metallic blue accents, mirroring the shine of his eyes easily visible through his half-face mask. He shifted to face you, his body tensing up the only warning you got before he lunged into action.

Showtime.

You had heard about Endless’s powers, of how he cracked the world around himself open like an egg, as though he was pulling the stitches of reality apart at the seams to poke his fingers between. To pull forth whatever laid beyond.

You had heard, but not understood what it meant. How it felt to meet that star speckled void that he pulled forth from the cracks, easily manipulating the matter as he saw fit. Something primal in your hindbrain was alarmed and then swiftly terrified when you felt that void skim past your skin, just barely missing your face.

The very foundation of your existence wanted to run and suddenly you understood why Endless was so feared even though he had never killed or crippled anyone, be they hero or civilian. Anyone would want to run from the thing that could unmake them.

But for the first time in your life, your own powers were the perfect counter. You had been born with the ability to summon things you could create within your own mind. Your own version of manipulating reality.

You watched Endless’s eyes widen as the air around you shimmered in a crystalline manner and you pulled forth two sleek panthers. Your favorite weapon fell into the hand you kept hidden at your side by shifting your stance, waiting for your moment to strike.

"Oh my," Endless breathed and you only heard him because he had come close enough that he could almost touch you if he stretched out his hand. "How very lovely."

The beasts leaped forward to distract him, while you ducked beneath another swipe of his void-wrapped fist, striking at his unguarded flank.

The blow struck, but Endless hadn’t climbed the ranks without being able to tank a few hits.

The fight was fast and harsh and, in a way, exhilarating. You hadn’t ever fought like this before, where it took every ounce of your concentration, pulling creations into existence while dodging the very power that made the feral part of your hindbrain gibber in fear.

You almost thought it would end in a true draw, the two of you getting tired, movements slower, blows and dodges getting sloppier. The world around you was a mixture of splintered cracks and that crystalline shimmer of your powers.

Right up until you managed to conjure a snake in Endless’s blind spot and when the summoned animal wrapped around his foot, just as he wanted to kick out at you, it ended in him getting yanked back instead.

Your hit connected with his shoulder and he fell to the ground, breathing hard, sweat dripping down his chin, but as he stared up at you, a grin was on his face. It had something wild around the edges and was so delighted it gave you pause.

"Beautiful," he said, his eyes glowing brighter. The tone of his voice caught you off guard, impressed and delighted and something else. Something that was just slightly breathless, just slightly…almost soft with reverence. "I’m so sorry to cut this short, I wish we could have finished this."

Before you could do more than feel bewildered, the ground beneath him cracked apart, that void surging up to swallow him. You jerked forward, only to immediately flinch back. You knew you could not reach into that void, could not follow him without being unmade.

As the void smoothed back over like waves calming after a big splash, the cracks around you faded away, returning the world to how it was meant to be. The sound of distant traffic and shouting civilians filtered through and it was only then that you realized how quiet it had been previously.

How far away the world had been, how nothing had been able to reach you with so much shattered reality everywhere around you.

"Imagination!" Peony’s voice made you jolt and a moment later he landed beside you, clapping you on the shoulder. His press smile was on his face, while his eyes were impressed. "Good fight, my friend!"

It…had been. You realized that you had been the first person in nearly five years to make Endless back out of a fight. You hadn’t won the battle, but when you glanced up at the clapping and cheering crowd, you realized that you had won in the eyes of the public.

Peony swiftly whisked you away to avoid the excited crowd and paparazzi that had been rushing towards you, cameras and microphones at the ready.

"Are you alright?" Peony asked as the two of you sat high up on a skyscraper, wedged in behind an old, big gargoyle. Your shoulders pressed together and you tipped your head back to stare up at the sky.

"Yeah, you said with a smile, then you frowned. "I thought Endless called Imperia home, not our city."

Imperia, the capital city, was a veritable cesspit of villains and underground crime. That Endless had made a name for himself in a place that ruthlessly chewed up and spat out anyone who faltered, who misstepped only the slightest bit, meant something.

You doubted that anyone but you truly had a good defense against him and these void powers. Powers that could destroy anything that was real near immediately - but your creations were only half real. They existed because you wanted them to, not because they were actually a part of reality. That made them harder to break.

"I don’t know," Peony answered after a moment of silence. "Maybe the Society knows what’s up."

*.*.*

The Society, in fact, had no idea why Endless had given up his bitterly fought for territory in Imperia. In fact, no one was able to find out anything as the weeks turned to months and instead of answers, you only got more questions.

And you gained a nemesis. 

You had never had one before and you could have entirely done without ever getting one. Endless however had decided that you were ’the shit’ as an impressed teen had once said and he just had to take you down.

Endless didn’t always seek you out when you were on patrol, especially since he had plenty of things to do himself, but whenever you spotted him, you knew he had come for you. After that first fight, you had never again managed to get the upper hand against him. Until now, everything had ended in a draw where the two of you had been forced to retreat.

He was dangerous and cunning and you really had no idea why he bothered fighting with you as much as he did. There was no need for Endless to go up against you or to seek you out for battles.

He was powerful enough that he could have just slipped past you to cause destruction elsewhere. To go pick off the younger or weaker heroes and sidekicks, the ones he could kick around like squeaky toys. 

He could have even gone straight for the official Society headquarters, since he had once let slip that he knew where it was. You didn’t know for sure if he actually did know, but the threat had been big enough that the Society was currently busy relocating, having closed down the headquarters for the time being.

He could have…well, he could have done a lot more damage, was what you were trying to say. You were glad that he didn’t though, that he didn’t kill people and never involved civilians if it could be avoided.

Endless had even stopped attacking a fellow hero the time your colleague had gotten knocked out in a fight against him, just as you had arrived. Rather than hit your fellow hero again to kill him or to inflict career ending injuries, Endless had just stepped aside.

He had allowed you to carry the woman to safety, though he had done so with running commentary. Everything had been said, from compliments to teasing remarks until you couldn’t help but snap back. And then he had grinned, achieving what he had wanted: that you spoke with him.

That you looked at him, bantering back before you knew it.

It was simultaneously the most fun and the most intense time whenever you fought him.

And recently he had gotten into the very distracting, very flustering habit of murmuring those compliments and teasing remarks at you whenever your fight caused the two of you to end up close to each other.

It was so easy to forget the world when he made the noise disappear, when everything was so far away with the way he cracked the world apart.

And yet, he never locked you in, he never put you into a cage you couldn’t escape, for wherever those cracks were, it was impossible to reach past them. But there were always spots to slip through for you and you just knew that was on purpose.

It was unexpected to look at a villain and realize that a part of you trusted him. Trusted him to not hit below the belt, to pull his punches before something truly awful happened. When you fought him, you could forget about the ring on your finger and how you could never, ever allow those gloves to come off.

"Why me?" you found yourself asking at your next clash, the fight between you no longer a harsh meeting of two blunt forces, but something refined and sharp. Almost like a fierce dance.

"Pardon?" Endless asked, elegantly ducking beneath your weapon and kicking the two-headed hound out of the way that you had summoned today. "Your beautiful lethality distracted me for a moment."

"Why fight me?" you asked, ignoring his compliments. He was just trying to make you trip up, you were certain he’d stop once he realized it wasn’t going to work, no matter what he said.

Endless blinked, looking taken aback for just a split second, before he stepped in close with a quick maneuver, close enough to almost touch you.

His voice was quiet and almost soft as he said, "If it’s not obvious, I am doing a worse job than I thought."

When you looked as confused as you felt, he made a low noise and the next second you smoothly slid back a step, head jerking to the side to avoid getting touched by the void he drew forth.

"I’ll figure out how to make my intent clear," he said in that tone that never failed to send a small shiver down your spine in the best of ways. His gaze flickered past you and his smile got a regretful little quirk. "For now, I fear our time is almost up."

To your surprise, he leaned in again, close enough that your noses were almost touching. You realized that you had stopped moving a second later, that the hounds stood still, waiting for your next command. 

"I don’t believe you find me quite so despicable," he murmured, his fingertips brushing your hand.

The one with the ring. Cold reality crashed over you, a sudden stab of alarmed fear that had nothing to do with Endless himself and his powers and you found yourself flinching back, hand tucked against your chest before you could stop yourself.

No other villain would have gotten that reaction, would have seen that moment of vulnerability. Plenty of villains had grabbed your wrist or hand before, especially if they had matter or mind manipulating powers. It was hardly the first time.

But something about Endless made it feel as though your barriers were paper thin. You had gotten careless.

His eyes widened at your reaction. "Apologies," he said, gaze flicking between you and your hand. Then his gaze snapped past you and he muttered an unflattering curse at the people you knew were about to join you.

With a last, thoughtful and apologetic glance your way, he folded into the cracks, disappearing into the void.

The world smoothed out, but your heart kept racing and you forced yourself to lower your hand back to your side and look normal and unaffected.

You were deeply relieved that Peony showed up moments later, whisking you away with an excuse to save you from the people. When you sat crouched behind the same gargoyle as last time, he said nothing when you curled up tight, hand clutched against your chest and forehead pressed against your knees.

He knew about the ring, about what had happened to you. It wasn’t hard to find out, not with how public both the fight and trial had been. Peony had slowly, over time, asked you more questions about it. Always carefully and gently and you had recently told him the rest of the story. How you didn’t remember what curse you had been afflicted with, only how it had felt to receive it.

And what happened if you ever took your ring off.

Peony was a solid line of warmth against your side and sometimes you felt a light tickling against your shoulder or head. By the time you looked up, uncurling a little, you blinked when you realized he had almost entirely covered you in flowers.

"Why is Endless bothering with me?" you found yourself asking as he carefully set down a handful of daisies in your now revealed lap.

"I think he’s flirting with you," Peony said and when you stared at him, wide eyed, he laughed. "Oh, he is. Couldn’t you tell?"

You grumbled beneath your breath, looking away and feeling embarrassed. Embarrassed and…aw, shit. You also felt flattered and touched and gooey warm. You liked Endless's attention and his words and how he fought you and how close the two of you could get to each other.

"I think you should ask yourself why you indulge him so," Peony continued, creating some tiny roses he put in your palm when he motioned for your hand. They were a pretty pink. 

"But he’s a villain," you found yourself saying and he snorted and started to tick off his fingers.

"Thunder and Goldstar, Justice and the Furious Two, Deadend and Dawn and of course, we can’t forget the most iconic and notorious romance between Dragon and Nightmare," he said. "They are villains and heroes who are more than enemies, if you catch my drift."

"Nothing was ever confirmed," you muttered and he shot you a look.

His voice was softer as he said, "Not officially, no. But I know you saw at least some of their fights. In all honesty, it even looked like Nightmare recently proposed to Dragon in the middle of their battle."

"Wait, what?" You sat up straight at that, sending a shower of flowers to tumble off of you. Peony just simply made a few more and tossed them straight at your face, petals silk-soft and sweet smelling.

"Endless isn’t awful," he said. "Arrogant, yes. Highly dangerous? Oh abso-fucking-lutely, but he’s no killer. He fucks with the government and some institutions and companies over for fun. No one knows what he really wants most of the time. His moral compass is probably so firmly in the gray zone he might as well rename himself into Raincloud, but you have my blessings."

"Thanks, Mom," you joked back and he smiled, nudging your shoulders together.

"I’m glad you’re doing better," he said, which made all the sarcastic mirth smooth out into something softer and genuine. "Want me to patrol with you the rest of the day?"

You were quiet for a long moment, staring down at the flowers littered all around you. All your favorite flowers and some of his.

"Yeah," you said at last. "Thanks."

"That’s what friends are for." He made a flower crown and gently set it upon your head. "Now come on, before someone yells at us for slacking off."

*.*.*.*

If you had expected Endless to back up, you were sorely mistaken. Not that you…not that you wanted him to. Still, you had no idea if you should reciprocate, if he really was flirting with you like Peony said, or how to go about it.

Endless certainly had stepped up his game after last time. Now every fight it seemed less and less like he wanted to get close to you in order to trade blows, quick strikes and just as quick parries, but to slip around your defenses like water and say more and more things in a low voice only you could hear.

If your battles had looked like dancing before, now your fights really were just a steady back and forth, a push and pull that had left all attempts at actual hitting behind ages ago.

Endless never again touched your hand, but now his fingertips brushed your elbow, your shoulders, your lower arm. He tugged at your utility belt instead of destroying it like another villain would have and you found yourself reaching back.

But he did glance down at your hand every time the two of you fought. The outline of the ring wasn’t easily visible beneath the gloves, but it felt like he had figured out exactly where the ring was.

You ignored it, you much rather focused on the bantering, on the way the words he said in that utterly pleasant and very flustering voice made you feel. You much rather bantered back, the world with all its troubles and realities locked away beyond those cracks he formed around you without ever locking you in.

You should not have ignored it.

It was Peony who called you just as you were about to finish patrol a couple of days later. It was getting quite late and you had volunteered for an evening shift to clear your head after you kept thinking about Endless. 

You had even found yourself watching some of his old fights online. It was…pleasant, possibly even alluringly impressive, to see him in action. His competence, his skills, his cunning and adaptability.

"Can you meet me at the old warehouse district?" Peony asked, voice tense and lowered over the phone in a way that told you something was wrong and he didn’t want to be spotted. "At the barrel intersection? There is a group of villains and far too fucking many explosives."

"On my way," you said, already changing tracks and hurrying towards the district. "Wait until I’m there."

"Hurry," he hissed and ended the call.

You arrived in record time, finding Peony hiding behind the barrels that lined the intersection on one side. It wasn't officially named Barrel Intersection, but that was what the two of you called it.

The old warehouse district was a quiet neighborhood, a mixture of storefronts and still used warehouses and industrial apartments on the more expensive side.

It also offered a lot of backrooms for villains to meet in and plot. Weirdly enough, you couldn’t see anything. The windows of the apartments were all dark and the storefronts lit, showing that no one was inside.

Actually, it was impossible to see much at all from the spot where Peony crouched.

"Where are they?" you asked in a whisper, as you ducked down beside him. "Did they leave already?"

"Alley," he whispered back and slipped into the shadows, face and shoulders tense in a way you hadn’t seen in quite a while. Or ever, possibly. It must be worse than you had thought.

You followed, only to notice that the flowers he usually decorated his outfit with were different. 

That wasn’t too strange in and of itself, Peony picked a new flower for his outfit every week, but it was always something cute and sweet, something that delighted the kids he saved and made crying people smile when he offered them a sunflower or cherry blossoms or tulips. And he always wore peonies around his head.

You weren’t well versed in flowers, but even you recognized the ones you could see now. Belladonna and nettles and a crawling of moss down his shoulders.

"Peony?" you whispered, confused. A low warning tingle spread through your limbs. You warily glanced around. Something was off.

"This is going to be horrible," Peony said so softly you barely heard him and something in his voice was different. It took you a second to realize it was sadness, laced with pain and grim determination.

A second you shouldn't have wasted with puzzling over his tone.

Vines stronger than anything Peony had created before snapped forward to wrap around your limbs, dragging you to the ground with a power and strength you hadn’t been able to fight.

In a split second, your mind ran through all the things an enemy could have done to Peony. Possession, mind control, mind manipulation, blackmail and a plethora of spells. Right up until cracks spidered along the wall and Endless oozed out of the void.

Both of their faces were solemn and grim, something you weren’t used to seeing. You fought the vines, shifting your hands and focusing on your powers when Peony took a step forward, a very familiar item in his hand, gas filling the alley with a sharp hiss.

The hero society had gas canisters that allowed heroes to nullify the powers of their partners in case of aforementioned mind control and other trouble. Those measures worked only short-term, a few moments at most, just long enough for either the afflicted hero or the responsible villain to be taken out.

You felt your powers hit a block, the shimmer around you vanishing in an instant. That was when a first creeping of fear and betrayal set in.

"What do you want?" you hissed as Endless stepped forward and Peony kept you pinned to the ground, the vines keeping your limbs still no matter how hard you fought.

"I’m very sorry about this," Endless murmured and reached for your hand. The one with the ring.

Panic immediately slammed into you and you found yourself saying, "No." even as he forced your fist open to pull your thumb through the hole in the sleeve and push the sleeve back. 

The moment he pulled your glove off, betrayal hit you fully like a hit to the gut, like a vile stench that threatened to make you gag and dizzy.

"Don’t," it came out like a pleading croak and you were only distantly aware of the fact that panicked tears were starting to gather in your eyes. You had thought he’d cared about you. You had been…had been fool enough to start to fall in love with him.

Endless said nothing, wrestling with your hand until more vines appeared, pinning your fingers into place. All but one. You looked at Peony, who stood back, silent and watching.

"I thought you were my friend," you rasped out just as Endless slipped the ring off your finger.

Your world shattered into something cold and warped, your breaths feeling crisp and clear in your lungs. Tears stopped gathering and your hammering heart slowed immediately, all those conflicting and painful feelings dying away, leaving only a yawning absence. A gnarly, ripped open wound across your soul that could easily be torn wider.

Your fingers twitched as you felt the effects of the gas wear off and you gathered your powers close, your mind already conjuring up something. Something unexpected that would give you the wriggle room to get free.

"Gloves off, huh?" you said, your voice coming out flat and cool. "Very well."

People thought that a lack of empathy meant that only rage and violence were left behind. That only something vile existed now, as if everything about human emotions could be neatly divided into 'good' and 'bad' at all times.

A lack of empathy meant there was also a lack of rage, of betrayed hurt, of the desolate realization that you had gotten played by two people you had grown to trust so very much. That you cared for so very much.

It felt different compared to when you had first gotten cursed. Back then the cosmos-bright wrongness within you had utterly consumed your mind. But now that wasn't the case.

You knew this curse. Your body knew it. Had lived years like this, even if the ring had been a neat little temporary loophole.

You had known you’d always end up like this again. The absence was still there, the torn open wound where something had been ripped away from you, but it did not consume your mind.

Your gaze snapped to the two threats in front of you as Endless dropped the ring and reached out again.

The advantage of having pulled your punches previously, of having had morals, was that they did not expect what you would do. They would not count on you summoning creatures that resembled nightmares.

Startling them was the advantage you needed and the monsters that tore out of the shimmering air moved fast like spiders, leapt like predators and had a maw of teeth like sharks.

The vines around you slackened and you ripped free, smoothly rolling to your feet and backing away behind the protective press of nightmare bodies. Two of the creatures had skittered up and along the wall, dropping down from above.

You took the moment of distraction, of hurried fighting, to focus on your biggest creation yet.

You hadn’t made things too big before, always aware of the civilians and the buildings around you as well as your own health. The damage you could cause not only to human life but also to people’s livelihood and possessions.

That didn’t matter anymore. Other people and their problems did no longer concern you. It felt as though the air behind you grew solid for a moment, no longer just wavering and shimmering, but a hard crystal surface, flat and shiny like a mirror, stretching to cover the space behind you from wall to wall.

The ground trembled faintly as the hydra stepped out, three heads swiveling to pin on the two men who had just defeated your skittering critters. One maw dripped acid, the other had smoke curling up and the last snapped its teeth, lightning arching.

"Please tell me you have another canister," Endless said, body tense and ready, as Peony stepped up to his side with a nod. "Cover my back?"

"Always," Peony answered, hands lifting and vines, thick and thorny, breaking out of the walls of the alley, writhing and destructive.

The hydra lunged with a screech, only for the lightning head to suddenly turn into chopped up, bleeding pieces, courtesy of Endless cracking it apart. You had always wondered if he could break flesh as easily as air. Your answer, evidently, was yes.

What a good thing that Hydra heads grew back in double their number. Acid sizzled, fire caught on wood and scorched stone and lightning from the new head lit up the area with quick flashes, while the fourth head lunged forward in a poison filled bite.

With the hydra blocking their path and obscuring their view of you, you had a comparatively easy time avoiding the vines, even as head after head got decimated. You took a second to create your usual weapon, only instead of the blunt hammer, it came out more deadly. Sharper.

That moment, your hydra got wrapped in vines, the heads getting pinned together, mouths forced shut. You watched the broken cobblestone and bricks, vines crawling from below and a new idea found you.

You hadn’t attempted to mix your imagination with the world around you before. You had only just summoned. You closed your eyes for a moment, heart beat steady and calm. You were not harried or frenzied or afraid, all you felt was…hollowed out. Empty. Like a yawning abyss had opened inside you that kept it’s frayed, torn mouth wide open at all times.

It took a second, the hydra growling and writhing, the smell of blood and smoke and something sharp and stinging thick in the air. Some of the heads must have fought free, for you saw a chain of lightning bursts flicker past even with your eyes closed and the golden, bright flare of fire.

When you opened your eyes, the crystalline matter of your summoning was woven into the alley around you, shimmering between walls and ground, layered over and sunk into stone and glass and metal.

You tugged, then realized it would take far, far more power than that. So you yanked and pulled, sweat starting to drip down your face and your heart beating faster with effort and just as your hydra got hacked into so many pieces all at once that it disintegrated, the alley around you heaved like it had come alive.

Because it had. You heard an alarmed shout as the entire alley reassembled itself, your stance shifting to keep your balance on the dragon head that raised itself out of earth and stone, built out of the material around you and held together by the matter of your imagination. 

It was easily the most powerful thing you had ever made and it made your legs tremble with how thoroughly it had drained you. Now you no longer only felt empty but exhausted down to your bones as well. You just barely kept your grip on the dragon, realizing that you had to finish this fast before your powers failed you.

It seemed you had overdone it. It would be worth it, if you won.

You met Endless’s eyes, the man who was your perfect nemesis, your perfect opponent. Peony was nowhere to be seen, aside from a splatter of blood on the ground and there were no hiding spots he could have been in without betting crushed when you had torn the alley apart. He had gotten eaten by the hydra.

Almost distantly, as though detached, you wondered what Endless was capable off if he, too, stopped pulling his punches.

You weighed the weapon in your hands as the dragon roared, wings sweeping out like giant sails, crushing the top of a nearby building to rubble. You weighted your powers against Endless’s. His intent and willingness to harm you against your ability to avoid being sliced apart like your hydra. 

Your legs trembled again, nearly buckling. You did not have the strength to draw this fight out any longer, nor would you be able to negotiate properly like this should it become necessary. You’d need to rest before making a decision, unless you managed to kill him.

It was worth a try.

"I knew you were holding back on me," Endless shouted up at you, but his usual smile was nowhere to be seen and he was out of breath. "I think it’s only fair if I do the same, isn’t it?"

You had seen the world crack like a mirror before and you expected to see much of the same again. And you did, for just a moment.

Before the cracks that spidered from his touch met in the air and then the world broke away in big pieces, the void devouring the edges of your dragon, forcing you to make it curl in tighter as it swiped and stomped and spat fire at Endless, who dipped in and out of the void too quickly to be caught.

You were about to take flight to gain the upper hand when Endless did smile, grim and triumphant. That was the only warning you got, as a crack appeared above you and Peony came tumbling out of the void, looking vaguely ill. His mask and half his outfit were gone, the void slipping off the edges where it had started to devour him.

For just a second you met his eyes, then you saw the canister he held in his hands and when you tried to dodge, your legs buckled at last, sending you tumbling onto the dragon’s hard head.

Peony landed at your side just as the canister hissed and you felt that wall slam up against your powers once more. The dragon collapsed in an avalanche of hard material and the only reason you didn’t get buried in a massive pile of rubble was Peony. He grabbed you and hauled the two of you away with vines.

Vines that tied you to the ground the second he landed and Endless took one big step forward to stand over you. They were both bleeding, Peony wrapping an arm around ribs that were most likely broken, while a gash down Endless’s shoulder made blood soak into his outfit and drip to the ground from his fingertips.

You stared up at them, fingers flexing and exhaustion making them tremble faintly. It seemed you had miscalculated. Not that it would matter for long, they’d finish taking you out any moment now.

"Careful," Peony whispered, looking tense and worried.

"I know," Endless said and it made no sense to you. They had blocked your powers for now and they could finish you off without worry. And even if you did manage to survive and wriggle free, you were too tired to summon anything else. Probably even too tired to run.

You distantly remembered your mentor saying that a lack of empathy made you reckless and careless with yourself to a frightening degree, that any sort of worry and concerns got wiped away.

Endless moved to kneel over you, knees bracketing your ribs.

He took a deep breath and held out his hands without touching you. "Here goes nothing. If you have some prayers left to say, say them now."

You had never felt his powers used on you. You had felt the void, had known it would try to pull you apart like bad stitching, but he had never cracked you.

There was a split second of something wrong registering, before everything just went utterly numb and detached. You stared up at Endless as he reached into the cracks that had just pulled apart cloth and skin and tissue, bone and organs to reach something else.

You would have called it your soul had you cared to and he reached right for the ripped open wound where everything that made you human, that made you feel like a person, had gotten torn out in a sloppy, brutal manner.

Peony hovered close by worriedly and you found yourself looking at him, his face turning into an apologetic grimace. Why? Had he not intended for you to die when he had betrayed you?

Endless’s fingertips touched the edges of the wound the curse had ripped into you, took a deep breath and exhaled slow. The glow of his eyes brightened and you felt a second crack, a shattering within the shattering.

For a moment the world around you seemed to exist only in bits and pieces that came and went without feeling connected to each other. Cracked stone beneath you, one hand gloved the other not, the smell of ozone and fire, the dark, smog filled sky above, your inhale, a heart beat.

A soul-bound wound shattering.

The second Endless pulled back, you saw that he held something writhing and vile between his fingers, tendrils of void wrapped around it. Then he curled his fingers around the curse, letting it be swallowed by the void.

You felt the second the curse was unmade, the world rushing back in all the details it had lacked as it vanished. The taste of exhaustion on your tongue, the heavy pain in your limbs from overextending yourself so brutally, the ache of your heart and your great confusion.

The last thing you noticed before blacking out was Endless carefully smoothing away the cracks he had made on your chest, still without touching you, looking exhausted and grimly victorious.

.

Part Two

#my writing #part one #perfect nemesis #villains and heroes #this used to have a slightly worse cliffhanger #until I realized just how long part 2 had become #and I did not want to make a part three #I hope this is fun to read! #can't remember of any additional warnings #please let me know if anything should be tagged or mentioned #I was so torn between making this a poly relationship or not #just saying #the potential is there #short story #superpowers #I hope someone has as much fun reading this as I had writing it #I'm serious this one is long #but then again #which of my 'short stories' aren't

[roppiepop]

Who’s coming to the cookout?

#bruce wayne #tim drake #damian wayne #cassandra cain #batman #red robin #dc robin #batgirl #dc comics #batfam #batfamily #roppie tries to draw #WE ARE GOING TO IGNORE that comic where bruce seems to be able to cook now #bcs this has been in my drafts for literal years lmao thats how slow i am w these #this comic is also known as ‘wordless communication: how well your family knows you’ #dont think too much abt the particulars abt any aspect of this ok 😃👍 #i had fun playing around w how i color thinngs i hope its not too messy!! #WAIT DOES THIS SAY COOK-OFF I MEANT COOKOUT!!!!!!!! #(its not a roppie piece without a typo but please OTL read that as i intended im on the ground

[somnimagus]

out of the frying pan and into the fire and into another frying pan that's also on fire

[id in alt text]

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #dunmeshi #this past year i decided to get into some of the manga i hear people really rave about #and dunmeshi was the first one i read and i adore it so much i don't have the words #gosh ryoko kui is such a huge inspiration.. i hope i can save up and get physical copies of the manga some day #ohh and daydream hour if it ever releases in english... #and sorry toshiro doesn't have his armor. i always remember him in his disheveled casual arc #fan art #my art #i think i've just completely stopped trying to do a clean flat style... i've just started painting over my sketches now #it looks a little messy but it's so much more fun #this was the first time in awhile i looked forward to continuing a drawing

[anglerflsh]

"people didn't get canceled before these sjw" Dante put all the people he disliked in literal hell

#[.txt] #we're at paradiso now because i finished inferno and purgatorio in the last school years and. Babygirl stop staring at your wife in awe #no but it's. it's so fun to read. Blorbo from 1300s #i wish i could meet Dante he's a bit of a bestie to me. Wrote what is now the general consensum for hell and purgatory and paradise #and explicitly said in the beginning of Paradiso that he was just a spark and hoped better flames would grow after him. girl... girl. #i'm normal about historical figures trust me #divina commedia #<-se diventa un post con più di mille note ci finisco io all'inferno

[obsob]

bedtime story with my love !!

#mine #cats #oooooooooogh im so cold....bath time bath time :3 ! #i hope everyone is hvaing a good week i am now DONE with work !!!!! hehe !!!!!!!!!! #i might not do any drawing for a little while . maybe just felt tips #also. cannnot for the life of me decide what 2 read...am like 30% way thro assassins fate but Um its . a little intense so im taking a brea #idk what im in the mood for....something....fun... but isnt bad #i feel like all 'light' books r bad. maybe i will just reread the goblin emperor. as i always do when all else fails #also. am going ice skating tomorrow i am SO excited . i hvent been in so so long its so exciting !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #mwah. hve good evening :3

[libraryofgage]

Good Vibrations Part One

Hello, it's me, back at it again with another Steddie AU.

Anyway, if I were tagging this AU, these would be the most important ones: Deaf Steve Harrington; Tooth-rotting Fluff; Getting Together

If you wanna be tagged in future parts, just let me know!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

----

Steve has blown through three pairs of hearing aids in the past year. The first pair had lasted a few years and needed replacement because of normal wear and tear. The second pair was sacrificed during that fight with Jonathan. He hadn't been wearing them, but they'd been in Steve's pocket, and he'd landed at just the right angle to feel them shatter. The third pair was taken by the Russians because, despite Robin's shouting and cursing at them for being dumbasses (and this was before she actually knew what they were for), they accused him of recording their kidnapping and torture.

Honestly, he wouldn't recommend fighting Russians and Billy and Mind Flayers and driving while nearly totally deaf.

The funniest part of it all, though, is that Steve doesn't even use hearing aids regularly. He normally only wears them at home. The pair lost to Jonathan were present because, well, that whole day had been a lot for Steve, and he needed the comfort of knowing he could stop reading lips the moment it became too exhausting for him. The pair lost to the Russians was because he'd been getting ready to tell Robin about being deaf. She'd already clocked the weird things he does (well, weird to her, normal to Steve), and he figured letting her in on the big secret would bring them a little closer.

Of course, that didn't go the way he expected. Robin thought he was confessing love and decided to beat him to the punch. That's how he learned Robin is a lesbian, and Steve couldn't let her be the only one admitting to something like that, so he told her about being bi and his long-standing, hopeless crush. And being deaf. But the bi with a crush thing seemed more important in the moment. She took it in stride, it brought them closer, and then Robin asked if Steve could teach her sign language.

Which meant that Steve had to learn sign language because he never had. Between not wanting to feel even more different than he already did and trying to convince his parents that, really, everything was fine and he didn't need to go to a special school for deaf and hard-of-hearing kids, he'd never learned. Learning it had somehow felt like an admission of weakness, and that was the last thing he wanted. But he learned for Robin, and they stumbled through sign language together, creating new signs only they knew.

But that's all in the past now, and Steve is working his ass off at Family Video to afford a new pair because he refuses to ask his parents for money. If he asks them, they'll come back, and that's the last thing he wants. They don't need to have all their worries confirmed that Steve is helpless, and he doesn't want them anywhere near Hawkins "Hellscape" Indiana.

So. Working his ass off, taking extra shifts, and babysitting the kids as much as he can to make up for the whole Friends and Family Discount he gives their parents. He's exhausted, but he gets to recharge somewhat during his lunch break.

About a ten-minute walk from the Family Video is a record store, which Steve has started visiting daily to just breathe. The lone worker in the store is usually too busy listening to her own music to pay Steve any attention, letting him wander and try to determine which records will best serve him.

Steve drifts over to the rock and heavy metal section, hoping to find a new album but unsurprised when he doesn't. He browses through them anyway, moving past Metallica and Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden. He already has all of these albums on his shelf at home. He has the cassette tapes for them, too.

But he really wants something new. He likes the novelty of experiencing unfamiliar vibrations through the speaker, letting them thrum through his fingertips and into his bones. It's fun and relaxing, and after all the bullshit he's been through lately, he probably deserves something relaxing.

After glancing over a few more familiar albums, Steve sighs and glances at the counter by the door. The lone worker is standing there, headphones over her ears, and idly flipping through a magazine. She's chewing gum, and Steve braces himself for the sheer hell of trying to read her lips without making it obvious he's reading her lips while she's got something in her mouth to disrupt the normal shape of words and sounds.

But he has to try. Steve takes one more deep breath before walking over, shoving his hands into his pockets when he comes to a stop at the counter. The girl raises a hand, motioning for him to wait, so he stays quiet as she finishes reading her page. She flips to the next one before looking up, not making any move to pull her headphones off.

"Hi. Do you have any new rock or metal albums coming in soon," Steve asks, feeling the vibrations of speech in his throat and hoping his words aren't too loud.

They don't seem to be. The girl doesn't flinch or pull back. She just looks him up and down, taking in the polo shirt and the nice khakis and the Family Video vest he forgot to take off before leaving. Finally, her neck and shoulders jerk slightly, and Steve knows she's huffed in annoyance. "No," she says, the word clear enough in the shape of her lips for Steve to know it immediately.

He frowns slightly, his fingernails digging into his palms. Steve wouldn't mind just leaving now, but something keeps him there. He just...he really wants new music. He needs something new. "Are there gonna be any shows nearby?" he asks.

The girl rolls her eyes and says something, her mouth distorted by gum-chewing. Steve can barely make out the words "you" and "check" from her response. Thankfully, it's accompanied by a vague gesture at something behind him. Steve looks over his shoulder to see a bulletin board with flyers plastered across it.

"Right. Thanks," he says, nodding to her before walking over. The flyers are all different colors with various fonts that scream for Steve's attention. Some of them are for bands, some are advertisements of garage sales or instruments in need of a new home, and others are just business flyers from stores nearby.

He's seen the bulletin board before, but he's never actually paid attention to it. Steve has always been laser-focused on browsing the records. But now, Steve carefully reviews each flyer advertising shows. Some are for comedy shows, which he immediately dismisses. One seems promising, but then he sees how far it is, and Steve definitely can't do an overnight trip like that.

Finally, Steve sees a flyer advertising a show at the Hideout later that week. It's close enough that he won't be out overnight. The place is kind of seedy, but Steve figures he can find some corner near the stage to hide. Or he can bring Robin and let her help him navigate any potential social situations. He tugs the flyer off the board, gaze lingering on the "Corroded Coffin" emblazoned across the top.

He knows the band. Of course, he knows the band. He's extremely familiar with their singer. From a distance. Honestly, Eddie Munson probably doesn't have the best impression of him, but Steve's heart never really cared about that. Because Eddie is like everything Steve wants to be: he's loud and unafraid of being so, he doesn't care about his image and how others perceive him, and he looks like his laugh sounds beautiful. Steve wouldn't know if he's actually right about that last point, but Eddie throws his head back when he laughs, eyes crinkled and hand over his stomach like his muscles ache.

His mouth suddenly feels dry, but he's also filled with unprecedented courage. Steve has graduated (barely), and that means a significantly lower chance of running into Eddie during the day if watching the show somehow goes wrong.

Steve folds the flyer into quarters and stuffs it into his back pocket. He'll be overly aware of it being there until Robin starts her shift and he can show it to her, but that's okay. He throws a quick thanks over his shoulder as he leaves the shop, glancing up at the bell he can't hear that signals the door's opening. He vaguely remembers what bells are supposed to sound like (he'd heard a few before losing the ability to hear them), but he doesn't let himself dwell on it.

Instead, he focuses on the trip back to Family Video, keeping an eye on the road to watch for any cars he wouldn't notice otherwise.

----

When the final bell rings, Eddie Munson can't get out of class fast enough. He'd been packed for the last five minutes, and he slid out of his seat the moment that first peal rang out. He has a gig to prepare for, and every second counts. At least, each second counts until he notices something (or someone) that could prove entertaining for a while.

He spots Dustin alone near one of the exits, and Eddie decides to relieve the kid of his isolation. He waits until he's behind Dustin to shout, "Henderson!" and throw his arm over the kid's shoulders, ignoring the way he jumps like he'd been expecting an attack.

"Holy shit!" Dustin shrieks, jerking back to look up at Eddie. "Don't do that, man, you're gonna give me a heart attack."

Eddie snorts, waving away Dustin's concern as he continues toward the exit. The general flow of students trying to get out helps him along, and Dustin doesn't seem to realize they're actually moving until they've gotten into direct sunlight. "You're fine," Eddie says, "Anyway, whatcha doing all alone, Henderson? Lose your way?"

"No, I have...stuff to do today," Dustin says, shrugging as he blinks to acclimate to the sunlight.

Oh, yeah, way too cryptic for Eddie to not dig for more. "Stuff? What kinda stuff? Got a hot date? Going shopping with your mom?" he asks, and then he gasps dramatically and moves to stand in Dustin's way. He puts both hands on his shoulders and very seriously says, "Be honest, Henderson, you're seeing another DM, aren't you?"

Dustin stares at him for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and shrugging his hands off. "Who else in this town DMs?" he asks, "Other than Will, I guess, but he's still working on a campaign."

"Fair," Eddie concedes, "so, whatcha really doing?"

After a few seconds of getting nudged by the students around them, Dustin sighs and says, "I have chores, okay? But that doesn't sound cool to say, does it?"

Fair. Eddie nods in agreement and moves out of Dustin's way, continuing to follow him. "So, what, your mom picking you up today?" he asks.

"No, Steve."

"Oh, the famous Steve."

Dustin nods, looking over the parking lot before pointing to one end. "Yeah, he's awesome," Dustin says as Eddie follows the direction of his finger.

And standing there, leaning against the hood of his car and looking to the side where a group of trees is swaying in the breeze, is Steve Harrington. Steve "The Hair" Harrington. King Steve. The worst thing, Eddie thinks, is that Steve looks good. His hair is still perfect, of course, and his stupid little striped shirt is pulling against his biceps and riding up just enough for Eddie to see a tiny sliver of tanned skin above his jeans. He looks a little tense, but Eddie chalks that up to him being back on the campus after already graduating.

"Harrington? You've been talking about Steve Harrington this whole time?" Eddie asks, his voice a little strained, "How the fuck do you know Steve Harrington?"

"He's my babysitter," Dustin says, his voice implying that much should have been obvious, but Eddie wants to grab his shoulders and shake until his head rolls off.

Steve Harrington doesn't babysit. He doesn't know nerds that talk about D&D. He doesn't drive nerds around. At least, he never did in high school. Granted, Eddie never actually talked to Steve, but everybody knew that Steve Harrington was too cool for, well, anything that wasn't the typical jock and popular guy shit.

As he's thinking about the last time he saw Steve Harrington (in the halls, while the guy had bruises and looked worse for wear), they get within shouting distance. And Eddie has zero impulse control when Wayne isn't around, so he doesn't think before shouting, "Hey, Harrington!"

Next to him, Dustin whips his head to glare at Eddie. And Steve Harrington doesn't fucking react. He just keeps staring at that group of trees like it's the most fascinating thing in the world. "Dude," Dustin says, grabbing Eddie's arm and yanking harshly, "don't shout like that."

Eddie frowns, anger beginning to simmer in his stomach at the complete lack of acknowledgment. "Why are you upset with me?" he asks, gesturing at Steve as he continues, "I'm not the one being a douchebag here."

Dustin opens his mouth, about to say something, only to snap it shut once more. He frowns like he's just realized he can't say something, and huffs with frustration. "Just...just don't do that," he finally says, keeping a hand on Eddie's arm and dragging him across the parking lot. And, yeah, something is definitely weird here.

Instead of just walking up to Steve, they make a large arch until they're within Steve's line of sight.

Eddie watches as Steve notices them, seeing Dustin first and pushing off the car. He relaxes for a split second until he sees Eddie and his shoulders tense again.

Great.

Once they're close enough for Eddie to count the moles above the collar of Steve's shirt, Dustin grins and says, "Hey, Steve." But it's odd, because Eddie has never heard Dustin talk this slow or this carefully, like he's doing his best to enunciate his words.

Steve flashes a grin and ruffles Dustin's hair. "Hey, twerp, you're late," he says. He then glances at Eddie, his grin becoming a little smaller, and says, "Hey, Munson."

Wait. Steve Harrington knows Eddie's name? And he called him by it? He said Munson, not Freak. Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds before nodding. "Harrington," he says, "how the fuck did you become a babysitter?"

Is he just imagining things, or is Steve looking at his mouth? Like, really intensely. He's definitely not, because Steve looks up after a few seconds with a raised eyebrow. "I needed some extra cash. Also, don't swear around Dustin. I'm the one who gets in trouble when he curses in front of his mom."

Something about the words makes Eddie grin. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he'd be talking to Steve Harrington. And he would have laughed you into Mordor itself if you suggested their conversation would be about Dustin Henderson swearing in front of his mother. "What's his mom do when he swears?" he asks.

Because he can feel the conversation veering into something potentially embarrassing for him, Dustin lets go of Eddie and starts pushing Steve toward the driver's side of his car. "Okay, we gotta go. So many chores, so little time," he says, his voice back to that normal speed and enunciation.

Steve frowns slightly, looking down at Dustin and tilting his head just slightly. "What?" he asks. Instead of actually answering, Dustin just makes some vague gesture with his hand and looks at the car. "Oh, right. Go ahead and get in the car. And, uh, see you later, Munson."

"Is that a promise?" Eddie asks before he can think better of it.

Steve pauses, looking at Eddie's mouth with a slight scrunch to his nose. He seems to be considering something as Dustin scrambles into the passenger seat, watching them with narrowed eyes. Honestly, Eddie is surprised he's not blasting the horn to hurry Steve up. Finally, Steve comes to a decision and meets Eddie's eyes again. "Your band has a show tonight, right? At the Hideout? I was planning to go. So, yeah, I'll see you then, I guess."

And with that, like he hasn't just fucking rocked Eddie's world, Steve Harrington gets into his car. He makes sure Dustin is buckled before waving at Eddie and pulling out of the parking spot.

Eddie finds himself waving back, staring dumbly at the car as it pulls onto the street. It only hits him a few seconds later that Steve Harrington is coming to his show. At the Hideout. His metal show. A Corroded Coffin gig at the Hideout.

Holy. Shit.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #deaf steve harrington #Good Vibrations Steddie #that's the tag for this one lmao #it's all fluff i swear #I hope you guys have as much fun reading it that I have writing it!

[duviten]

I drew some of the ideas people commented on my last post

#splatoon 3 spoilers #praying 2 god ppl who havent finished it have that blacklisted #if anyone who left those comments sees this. i hope I didnt jumpscare you #ty for sharing your ideas guys.. its fun to read #splatoon #splatoon 3 #mr grizz #splatoon shiver #scrapper #cohozuna #steel eel #salmonid #fanart

[crabsnpersimmons]

a little wip for a little thing i'm working on!

#fnaf moon #fnaf dca #dca fandom #traditional art #when you pat your robot coworker on the head and then he makes it WeirdTM #it's all fun and games until you realized you're touch starved #this idea has me by the throat #it has been occupying all my attention since i got my exam marks back #(i passed by the way! hooray! my reward is more courses!) #cuz i want to get it done before i start my second course #or i will not know peace #so hoping to get it done some time this week #also! a little extra sneak peak for those of you who read my tags #(love you all by the way!) #(my tags are where i tell all my best and worst jokes) #this will be angst #>:) #crab art

[visionsofmagic]

day 3: fushiguro toji [size difference]

࿓ synopsis • you bet you can have toji raw & dry with only one go.

―❦ nsfw, pet names, a bit of daddy kink, rough!toji, humiliation, bet, brat!reader, roughness, raw, dry, big!toji & small!reader, f!reader, riding, swearing, inner speech [‘is all I believe] • 1.3k • I have never wrote for him but I hope it feels canon. also, I literally have a thing for menace characters. ehe. anyway, enjoy! [kinktober m.]

a deep chuckle comes under you, sending chills down your spine, making you want to hide your face from the owner of the sound ‘cause you can feel how he is teasing you, finding it entertaining how you try to sit on his thick cock even though the intense sensation coming from your tight pussy flows through your body, making you breathless because it’s too much. 

“toji –“ you say between your breaths, looking up to his face only to find him looking right back at you – well, he sees the most pathetic version of you but wasn’t this what you wanted? his expression says; wasn’t this what you begged for? silly girl, he said the moment you tried to say you can handle it – handle to take him dry, without any preparation. thinking she can handle it? cute. 

of course, you wouldn’t stay back, not after hearing all the stories about how it felt like euphoria and hell at the same time to have it dry, raw, in one go. you who believe you want it to be harder, rougher, deeper each time you have sex with toji directly went to him, saying how you want to try riding him but without foreplay. 

he laughed at you – in a such teasing way that your anger rose up, causing you to play the card he could never refuse; bet.

he agreed after a quiet time, but not because of the bet – the challenge, but for the chance to see you eat your own words and witness your struggle on his cock, and he was right, as always.

“what is it princess?” he mocks, teases – a bit of mischievousness inside his sparkling eyes looking up at your face full of tears – his cock isn’t inside you! “is it too much?” he enjoys this more than you do, apparently, because he is just lying on the bed, hands on the back of his head, staying behind him, and a smirk that screams how he has no desire to hide his enjoyment stays on his attractive face.

“fuck y –!”

“tch tch tch,” he shakes his hand to left and right, showing his amusement, “how nasty,” he looks at you with a new expression and you know that one very well – he is one step behind forgetting about the bet and fuck you the way he wants – not with the one you begged for. “but you disrespect me one more time and I will shove my cock right into that fucking tight pussy in one go.”

his treats only make you get wetter. you find yourself wanting him to do that – without leaving it to you, he should be the one who enters into you in one go ‘cause clearly, you can’t do it; it just doesn’t fit!

keeping your mouth shut, you place your left hand on his exposed biceps, the hotness flows from there to your palms as your other hand travels to your slit with the intention of fingering yourself a little bit so that he would fit – you can’t stay any longer. you need him inside you, right now.

however, toji gets what you’re doing. his bigger hand finds yours, caging it with his after pulling it to himself, making you fall into his chest, nose to nose – eyes to eyes. danger radiates from him as he speaks, “you wanted this slut, so, bear it,” his other hand positions on your waist, pushing you down; his cock’s tip enters into you, earning a low moan from you. “lower yourself down princess.”

he uses cute pet names but the eyes don’t lie – his eyes tell you that you should lower down or else the consequences will be really bad, so, you do what he tells you, lowering your body down inch by inch, realizing how it was a bad idea since you two have different proportions in terms of size – how dumb you were to think that toji’s, a man of twice the size of you, will go in that easily.

“fuck - ! agh, toji - daddy! ‘is too much!” you say, looking at the sight of your cunt being ripped off with his cock each passing time as it gets into you deeper and further.

he leaves your hand, touching your face instead and you can feel half of your face disappearing within it, “so the slut finally has a brain that works, huh?” he asks, “didn’t believe when I said it would be too much. a fucking dumbfucked woman who thinks she has the skill of surprising me,”

 he leaves your body entirely, leaving you surprised as he puts his arm on his eyes, closing them and saying, “get off of me. need sleep, not a dumb whore.”

you stay like that, not moving, not taking your eyes off, comprehending what’s happening.

his massive body doesn’t move an inch either, however, from the voices you hear, you can say he’s about to sleep – sleep?!, you ask inside your own head, heat rising up that comes from anger and disbelief. who thinks he is to leave you behind like this and go to sleep in the middle of the sex?!

the madness you have never had takes control of your mind and body in that moment after you realize he doesn’t give a fuck about you or the reason why you tried to do this – making him go crazy while you ride him raw and dry.

no logic side on the brain, not anymore, your hips move on their own, “fuck this shit,” you say and add before going further, “I will show you how this dumb whore will make you sweat.”

a scream comes from your parted lips, the burning sensation takes all the breath you have, the mind turns into dizzy, eyes half-closed yet see the man underneath you taking his arm from his eyes – well, half-closed eyes now, and ears hear the words he says, “fuuck –!”

even though your hips ache in pain, pussy is already on fire, and you throw your head back – such pleasure coming from both his situation and his cock that fills you without leaving any space, you moan his name.

it takes you a few moments to adjust it and move but you have no time; you have to provide that no one can fuck him like this.

hips move up and down, eyes now at his face, daring him to look away – to avoid your eyes; he accepts the challenge, hands are put on your ass, squeezing the flesh, breaths mix with each other and the only voices in the whole room are his swears, growls and even moans within your high pitched moans, the lewd sound of thick pussy hitting the pussy, balls following – everything seems so euphoric.

riding him with the help of him lifting you up and down in sync with your movements, you hear your own name on his lips. it’s hurt like hell to let him shove himself into you at the pace he wants to after you cum two times, the muscles begin to hurt, the mind goes blind from time to time, and keeping your words about how you can make him sweat, he finally takes the control; he hugs your smaller frame, rolling over so that you can be under him, he enters your now wider pussy one again but somehow, it’s still tight.

“pretty slut,” he says, hands staying on the sides of your head, his body covers yours, you feel vulnerable when you compare your small body with his yet it gives excitement when he turns your back to him, his chest touching you from behind, and his fingers open your folds apart, cock entering slowly, “did so good for me, now, let big daddy reward you, fuck that pussy ‘till it fits in one go. after all,” he says, pulling his cock only to push it in you with one go – so full, so filled. wasn’t he holding you from the abdomen, you would jolt into the bed. “it’s what my princess wants, right?”

❦ tagging: @lilvampirina ! thank u pretty!

#💦 kikntober 2023 first week #kinktober 2023 #day 3 #fushiguro toji #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x y/n #fushiguro toji x f!reader #toji x reader #jjk x reader #toji smut #jjk smut #💌 by me #SO EXCITED BECAUSE I WROTE HIM FOR THE FIRST TIME EVEN THOUGH I READ ABOUT HIM SO MUCH #HOPE YOU HAD FUN! THANK YOU FOR READING!

[seawing-vibes]

Happy [Incredibly late] Valentines Day !!! Decided to do a trio of illustrations as I’ve done in previous years of diff forms of love!! Its only 3 but heres the list:

Sundew & Willow -> Romantic Love [They’re a classic! First queer POV’s and impactful ones for me!! They’re sweet together <3]

Qibli & Ostrich -> Familial Love [they are Cousins to me!!! Adopted family who are very protective of each other]

Turtle & Peril -> Platonic Love [Their friendship is so nice to me!! I don’t ship them at all - the heart motif is just used to symbolize love!!!! Also Turtles scales are canonically “as strong as diamonds” so him & Peril can make physical contact without Turtle getting burnt lmao]

#WoF #Willow WoF #Sundew WoF #Qibli #Ostrich WoF #Turtle WoF #Peril WoF #HIIII IM SUPER LATE TO VALENTINES DAY BUT ! !<33. ! ! !HI . ! :) #Im really hoping everyone reads the description because I use hearts so regularly has platonic things and I truly dislike peril x turtle #stuff PFBH BUT YEHAHH I HAD FUN DRAWING THESE FELLAS !!!!!! #I planned on doing a self-love piece as well with anemone but I got wiped out by these drawings so hopefully later she will get a proper #piece </3 #Willow #Sundew #Ostrich #Turtle #Peril #art #tideart #designin

[bloobydabloob]

You doing good dude

#homestuck #homestuck fanart #dirk strider #dirkjake #jake english #hs fanart #blooby posting #post canon #I hope this reads. Ignore if it doesn’t #I am very much interested in their post canon relationship #I won’t ramble in tags but… meat timeline DirkJake. Something wrong with you guys #Love it #He is always having such a fun time on Theseus man #I’m sure of it

[duu-kiwi]

I bet aziraphale wrote about the day the universe was made, about the angel whose voice recited the words that created the stars, about how bright they shone, and still shine, in those angel eyes✨🪐

Here you have some detailss and a cropped version with just!! them!!!

edit: prints link !

#Good Omens #good omens fanart #good omens season 2 #there is something something abt the diary(?) that aziraphale writes #that theyve might wrote abt that time too #and i also thought abt the possibility that crowley will found and read them someday #i had like three separate pieces that make this concept a bit more linear? im really excited because i had a really fun time making this #it was challenging but oh so regarding to make a full piece since 2021 #anyways i really love them and they have inspired me to push myself a little further so im really grateful for that #also FOR THIS SECOND SEASON THAT NO ONE HAD THE RIGHT TO MAJE IT THST GUTGRENCHING AND FUNNY AND GOOD?!?! #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #fanart #art #aziracrow #angel crowley my beloved #i hope i nailed the love at first sight eyes on aziraphale bc that was what happened there right? #artists on tumblr #good omens 2 #angel crowley #myart

[teethkid67]

PAYDAY

aka a valentine for the lovely @itsnotmystic / @corvids-calling - fanart for stars fic of the same name, which you can read here !!! i really enjoyed this concept and wanted to do some art for it :3 hope you like it because i REALLY loved your work & i hope this shows that !!! HAPPY VALENTINES DAY !!!!

this is also a loose love-letter to the wonderful @arginnit 's crazy background-drawing-ability and style/skill at portraying environments . wadds your stuff is insane and i love it

happy @mcyt-valentines exchange !!!!

#mcyt-valentines #things i make #c!wilbur #wilbur soot #wilbur soot fanart #dsmp wilbur #blah blah blah WHO CARES. I LOVE YOUR WRITING #i read your little um um superhero slash las nevadas Theft fic as well it was so fun :3 #AND I okay maybe this is creepy idk i backscrolled ur blog to hell and back lmfao #UR PAINTING OF TECHNOS CABIN IS SO SWEET AND CALM AND PRETTY i was originally going to do something with ctechno but the art just wouldnt c #come to me #i did get one (1) ctechno design/doodle out of it though its my most recent post before this one in my things i make tag #idk i hope youre having a good day you seem super cool and. ya #AND TO WADDS. idk i love your art so much . i think about some of your pieces literally all the time #your um. backrooms drawing with tommy & charlie & ranboo i love the warped perspective i tried to reflect that in this #your painting style anddddd yeah. your composition your everything its so good #happy valentines dayyyy

[sensitiveheartless]

Written followup to the horrors comic! It got away from me lol. Most of it's under the cut, cause this part is also a bit long.

~*~

Minutes passed by on the quiet moonlit dock.

Despite the renewed serenity of the night, Chuuya’s heart continued to race sickeningly fast. It hammered away in his chest, as if unable to fully grasp that the danger had passed.

His clothes were heavy and waterlogged, so cold against his skin that he could barely keep from shivering. Icy trickles ran down the back of his neck and dripped from his hair.

Closing his eyes didn’t help. There were far too many twisted corpses engraved in the darkness whenever he blinked. So he kept his eyes open, staring at the planks beneath them as he tried to steady his breathing.

Don’t think about it, Chuuya told himself. Don’t think about them.

Instead, he forced himself to remain in the present moment. Beneath the planks, he could hear the swell of the ocean waters, each wave lapping at the posts in a quiet rhythm. Salt filled his lungs with every breath, the heavy tang of the sea-soaked wood wafting around him.

And against his chest was Dazai’s head, a steady and grounding pressure. His ear rested over Chuuya’s heart, his arms still tight around him.

In that position, Dazai must have been able to hear how hard Chuuya’s heart was pounding—but surprisingly, he didn’t remark upon it. He remained utterly silent.

In return, Chuuya didn’t say a word about the almost crushing strength of Dazai’s arms where they wrapped around his middle. Dazai’s fingers were digging into his ribs, twin rows of sharp pressure, and Chuuya could feel them shaking.

Dazai’s hair was coarse where Chuuya’s cheek rested against it. Back in the day, before Dazai’s defection, he never bothered with conditioner. It seemed some things never changed, even in the light.

For one wild moment, Chuuya wished that he wasn’t wearing a pair of gloves—then he could bury his bare fingers in Dazai’s hair and see if it was as tangled as it looked. And, perhaps, warm himself up. Dazai was like a radiator against him, heat seeping through Chuuya’s drenched layers of clothes at every point of contact, but his gloves remained cold, the sodden leather chilling him to the bone. His joints ached as he uncurled his fingers from around Dazai’s shoulders.

Perhaps it would be worth it to just…indulge for a moment, if only to have something else to needle Dazai about. Really, the man needed to learn how to groom himself properly one of these days.

As Chuuya’s hand hovered indecisively over Dazai’s head, however, he realized that his heart rate had already evened out. While he was reminiscing about Dazai’s damn mess of hair, of all things.

Ridiculous. But that meant that there was absolutely no excuse for the two of them to remain wrapped around each other any longer. Dazai’s shivering seemed to have calmed as well.

“We should—” Chuuya’s voice cracked when he tried to speak, so he paused and cleared his throat before going on. “We should make sure it’s really gone. I don’t want that thing getting the jump on me again.”

Dazai tensed, and his grip tightened so much that for a moment Chuuya could scarcely breathe.

“Oi. C’mon, you need to let me up,” Chuuya wheezed, swatting at Dazai’s shoulder. He strained his neck to look down at the head buried against his chest, a pang of something that was surely exasperation tightening his throat. “I need to be able to reach it, Dazai.”

Dazai remained still for another long moment, then abruptly loosened his grip. Instead of letting Chuuya up, however, he pushed him down to sit on the damp planks, and rose to his feet himself.

“I’ll go,” Dazai said quietly, and strode past Chuuya towards the small, oval mirror where it lay shattered on the dock.

Right. It did make sense to have Dazai touch it first, in case it was an ability that could be nullified.

…But what if it’s not? What if it’s something like Lovecraft? Dazai will be defenseless, Chuuya thought, and instinctively started to his feet as well.

“Stay back,” Dazai said sharply, without even turning to look. He was standing over the mirror, staring down at it. “Don’t move forward until I say so.”

Chuuya scowled, but remained in place. He watched as Dazai bent down and extended a careful hand towards the shards of glass.

One tap, with the tip of a finger. Then another, less cautious tap against the side of the wooden frame. Then another, and another, Dazai’s touches moving systematically across every inch of shattered glass and broken wood.

Nothing happened.

Dazai breathed out, and stepped back. “There. You are now welcome to crush it into dust,” he said lightly, waving Chuuya forward.

His head was still downturned, his eyes cast in the shadow of his bangs as Chuuya walked past him to do the deed.

It was with deep pleasure that Chuuya pressed each little bit of the mirror into nothingness, grinding it down with the overwhelming weight of gravity.

After it was done, Chuuya scattered the dust into the ocean waters below. “What the fuck was that thing, anyway?” he asked, turning back to face the other.

When he turned, however, he found Dazai had moved to sit on the edge of the dock, his legs dangling off the edge.

His back was facing Chuuya. It seemed deliberate.

At first, Dazai didn’t respond to Chuuya’s question. The silence stretched long enough that Chuuya began to shiver again, the cold wind cutting through his damp clothes.

“…A Face Like Glass,” Dazai said at last. “That’s what the ability was called.”

“So it was a gifted,” Chuuya muttered. He walked to Dazai’s side, and dropped down beside him with a heavy sigh. “That mean the user is still out there somewhere?”

“No,” Dazai said softly. “She died some time ago, I’m afraid.”

Chuuya looked at him sharply. “What?”

There wasn’t much light by which to see, but Chuuya knew Dazai’s face like the back of his own hand. Better, probably. And he could tell that the detective’s features had gone unnaturally still.

It was how Dazai looked whenever he was unsure of how much he should give away. Typically his poker faces were more natural, but when he was strongly conflicted, he would simply go blank.

“Explain,” Chuuya said, crossing his arms. “That thing almost killed me, I think I ought to know what it was.”

That got a reaction. Dazai’s lips twitched downward and he looked away, hiding his face from Chuuya once again.

After another lingering pause, however, he finally began to talk.

“A Face Like Glass was the ability of a woman named Hardinge,” Dazai said, as blandly as if he were reciting a history lesson. “She could reflect the darkest thoughts of anyone who looked into that mirror of hers, and give those thoughts physical form. Quite literally a nightmare to deal with, as one can imagine. She was the terror of England. However, after she rose to prominence, the mirror began to behave a bit oddly.

“The more renowned Hardinge became, the more people began to fear her ability. She kept the exact details of the mirror shrouded in mystery, so her enemies were always speculating what horrors it might do to them next.

“Naturally, over time, their darkest thoughts became consumed with fear of the mirror itself. And when Hardinge reflected those thoughts, manifesting them into reality…well. You can imagine what happened.”

Chuuya’s hands formed fists in his lap, so tight the leather of his gloves creaked. His fingers were somehow even colder than before. “A runaway effect,” he said. Despite his best efforts, his voice came out rough. “A singularity.”

“Quite,” Dazai said. “The heights of human imagination should never be underestimated. The more powerful anyone imagined the mirror was, the more powerful it became. When their fears manifested, their imaginations ran ever more wild with terrifying possibilities. Which it would also reflect. And so on, and so on. The only one who could control it was Hardinge herself, stopping the runaway cycle by covering the mirror. She acted as a control for the ability for many years, preventing it from going too far.

“But one day, one of her enemies had the dubiously clever idea to turn the mirror back on Hardinge herself. Which, ordinarily, would have been a mere scare tactic. I’m sure their only intent was to make her hesitate to use the mirror by making her own fears manifest.

“However, that is not what happened. Keep in mind, Hardinge had been watching this ability of hers grow with each battle she fought, gaining strength after strength, only barely containing it with her efforts. Sometimes it must have seemed so powerful that it nearly eclipsed her own self.

“Anyone would be frightened of that. It can’t be surprising that her darkest thoughts contained the fear that her mirror would one day consume her.”

Silence stretched, frigid and fragile as ice.

“…So her own ability ate her,” Chuuya said flatly.

“Yes,” Dazai said. “And without anyone left to contain it, the mirror was unleashed.”

Chuuya rubbed wearily at his temples. “Okay. Then how did it get here? To Yokohama?”

“From what I hear, Hardinge was not popular with the Order of the Clock Tower,” Dazai said. “She had gone into hiding here when her ability overtook her. The Special Operations Division then sent out operatives to contain it.”

Chuuya raised his head. “Oh. They’re involved? Wait, does that mean…was that ex-drinking buddy of yours the one who told you all this?”

Dazai nodded, and Chuuya could faintly make out a crooked smile on his lips in the darkness. “Ango called to warn me of its escape. They had done everything they could to keep it locked away so it could be studied, but all it took was one researcher fearing that the creature had the ability to get out of its cell, and it immediately had that power,” he said, leaning back on his bandaged palms. He gave Chuuya a sidelong look, heavy with significance. “Then, of course, while Ango was briefing me on A Face Like Glass, I also got word that a certain tiny mafioso had gone out to fight an unknown monster that was terrorizing the shipyards.”

Chuuya met his stare with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, so?” he said. “It was scaring my subordinates. Someone had to do something.”

Dazai’s gaze darkened further. “Chuuya, you went alone,” he said. “You tried to face it all by yourself, without even knowing what it was. You could have —” He broke off, and looked away once more. His nails were digging into the wood of the dock, his shoulders stiff. 

Hiding again, Chuuya thought.

For a moment, Chuuya considered pointing out that there wasn’t anyone for him to call for help. Very few of the other mafia members could stand up to an otherworldly threat—and even those who could, like Akutagawa, were not anyone who Chuuya would want exposed to a fear-monster. Everyone in the mafia had far too much darkness to reflect.

Besides, Dazai had no room to scold Chuuya when he was the one who had left him without a partner in the first place.

But even as Chuuya contemplated speaking those cutting words aloud, he found himself unable to.

Because even though Chuuya hadn’t called, Dazai had come anyway.

And, if the reflections of that ability could be believed, one of Dazai’s darkest thoughts was losing Chuuya to Corruption. Right alongside Dazai’s fear of his own past self, and his fear of disappointing his old friend. That…changed some things.

Chuuya sighed, releasing a long-held weight. Then he prodded Dazai’s shoulder with a cold, gloved fingertip. “Hey,” he said. “Look at me.”

Dazai’s shoulders hitched higher, but he didn’t turn.

“What’s your deal?” Chuuya demanded, poking him again. “You don’t have to hide from me, idiot. What, you think I’m gonna make fun of you for having emotions?”

That, apparently, surprised Dazai enough to glance back at Chuuya, his brow furrowed.

“Because I won’t,” Chuuya said. “Not about this. I mean…look, before you showed up, that mirror motherfucker had already reflected a lot of people at me. The Flags, the Sheep, Murase, even N. That’s how it got close enough to me to grab me and drag me under in the first place. So if you’re embarrassed of breaking down or some shit, you shouldn’t be. I did too.”

“It’s not that,” Dazai muttered, his eyes darting away across the dark ocean waters once again.

“Then what?” Chuuya prompted impatiently, leaning closer.

“I froze,” Dazai said, his lips twisting in disgust. “Under the slightest amount of pressure, I broke. You could have died, just because I couldn’t bring myself to fire at a poor imitation of my friend.”

Chuuya blinked. “What’s wrong with that? I broke too. And you were there to pull me out of the water. I saved you, and you saved me. That’s what partners are for, right?”

That finally got Dazai to face him, whipping around so quickly it must have hurt his neck. His eyes were wide, his lips parted in surprise.

Chuuya knew why. It had been years since he had called Dazai his partner.

All too aware that his cheeks were beginning to heat, Chuuya reached out to pull the infuriating man into his arms, tucking Dazai’s head against his shoulder. “Not a word,” he growled, squeezing Dazai tightly in warning. “Make fun of me for this and I’m kicking you into the ocean.”

Dazai let out a choked noise, and suddenly he was clinging to Chuuya just as tight, his fingers practically clawing into his back.

He was shaking again. Or maybe they both were.

“It—it had been so long since I heard his voice,” Dazai cried against Chuuya’s neck, muffled and damp on his skin. “I don’t want that to be how I remember him, I don’t, I hate it…”

Chuuya closed his eyes and saw Albatross laying on the ground in pieces, staring up at him in betrayal. He let out a slow, careful breath, and held Dazai closer.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I know. I get it.”

Dazai was still so warm. And Chuuya’s hands were still so terribly cold.

Making a reckless decision, Chuuya pulled off his soaked gloves and tossed them aside, then sunk his fingers into Dazai’s mess of curls without hesitation. He felt more than heard the sharp inhale against his neck, and the quiet questioning hum that followed. Chuuya ignored it and continued to card his fingers through Dazai’s hair.

“…Chuuya?” Dazai breathed.

Chuuya tugged absently at a knot. “Tangled,” he grunted. “It was bothering me.”

“Mm,” Dazai hummed, and his hands slid up the back of Chuuya’s jacket. “Chuuya’s cold.”

“No shit,” Chuuya said grumpily. “I fell in the fucking ocean, and it’s freezing out here.”

There was a soft laugh, then a strange sensation ghosted across the side of Chuuya’s neck just above his choker, almost like a pair of lips had pressed there. Chuuya’s hands tightened in Dazai’s hair, stiffening in surprise. He could only wonder if he had imagined it, unable to comprehend any other possibility.

He certainly didn’t imagine what Dazai said next, however.

“Come home with me,” Dazai whispered, his lips brushing against Chuuya’s skin once again.

Chuuya made a very strange noise, somewhere between a shriek and a gasp, and used his grip on Dazai’s hair to haul him away just enough for their eyes to meet. “The fuck?” he spluttered, face burning. “What do you mean, where did that — hah?”

Dazai’s eyes were rimmed in red, dulled with weariness. One of his hands wandered up to Chuuya’s cheek and rested there, circling the blush with his thumb. “I don’t want you out of my sight right now,” he said quietly. “That’s all.”

Ah. Right. The reflection of Corruption.

Well. Chuuya couldn’t really deny that he wasn’t looking forward to a night spent alone in his own apartment. He might not dream, but that didn’t matter if he couldn’t even get to sleep. Having someone beside him might help.

And beyond all that—this was the first time that Dazai had ever asked Chuuya to stay with him.

So, dazed and still a little flushed, Chuuya abandoned all common sense and replied, “Okay.”

Dazai captured one of Chuuya’s hands between his own, and brought it to his lips to brush a kiss across his knuckles. “Good,” he murmured, and pulled Chuuya to his feet. A slight smile flitted across his features. “I think I spotted Chuuya’s dreadful hat further towards the shore. Shall we find it first?”

Chuuya’s knuckles were still tingling. “Okay,” he repeated, strangled and utterly bewildered. His thoughts were chasing themselves in circles like a pack of confused terriers, but he allowed Dazai to tow him away towards the lights of the city.

And if Chuuya’s fingers ended up intertwined with Dazai’s as they traversed the shadows…well.

The streets were too dark for anyone to prove it.

“…Wait, is there even room at your place? You’re still living in that shitty dorm, aren’t you?”

A familiar grin and a pair of twinkling eyes turned back to him as they passed through a dimly lit alley. “Hmm? Chuuya has been tracking where I live? How sentimental of you, slug.”

At least he’s getting back to normal, Chuuya thought. “Oh, shut up,” he grumbled aloud. “Of course I’d keep an eye on your annoying ass.”

A scandalized, yet delighted gasp. “Chuuya likes looking at my ass?”

“…?! Shut up! That is not what I said—!”

#...possibly I should also put this on ao3 for ease of reading #do I know what I'm doing? nope #no thoughts only vibing #but anyway I hope this was an enjoyable explanation of the Creature in the horrors comic! #'A Face Like Glass' is a book I absolutely adore by Frances Hardinge :D It's got a lot of mind-bending concepts in it! #so it seemed like a fun thing to turn into a bsd oc monster #can you believe this started as an attempt to give Chuuya hugs lol #technically succeeded! but at what cost #the horrors comic #bsd #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #soukoku #skk #senhart's writing

[gammija]

he would not say that, podcast/book edition:

#thin martins.... #joos yaps #now that this post has a few reblogs: its fun to read the tags #most fun ones are where its clearly personal taste #ill add a few more petty ones of my own; #elias does not have eye earrings. he has eye cufflinks at best otherwise he dresses like the boring bureaucrat he is #used to be for emo/grungy jon but i was worn down and will now begrudgingly accept it as a phase in uni #(though he was Not In A Band. i stand by that) #for all of the latter ones i hope its clear i dont personally mind if people make fanworks which disagree. but they're wrong/j #thin martins are annoying on another level which ive gone into before and wont do now #oh right blond hair/blue eyed martin. no. #and any jon with a small anime nose isnt jon #again want to be clear: apart from thin martin this is all a matter of taste and in good fun plz keep drawing ostentatious eliasses

[obsob]

despite, despite, despite!!

#mine #original #fun fact when i first started colouring this i like couldnt remember what th trans flag looked like #i just like. did it then was like . hmm. that is the flag of slovakia i think #anyway #i missed tdov by a mile but. hello #i missed th day bc i was at my bfs house. thats t4t love baby #i hope u hve all had a good easter!! #thank u to everyone who inquired abt commissions i am surprised abt th amount of interest!! #when this batch is done i will open more. will probably b a regular thing :3 #i will now do exercise and have a bath i thinky #i need to make myself read this book...im so not use to horror anytime i read anything remotely unsettling im like oohoohohohmmhhmm n #dont read for like. 4 days #ive read like 200 pages in 10 days KSFBSBJ get a GRIP #anyway. good evening