#also his death would mean way more to Rusty

[nightly-ruse]

I think something I wish I saw more of was a Rusty is Redtail’s son au’s. Like idk I think it’s really interesting as a idea esp with Spottedleaf as his auntie and her being a bigger cool sassy aunt to him.

#also his death would mean way more to Rusty #maybe Redtail had him with some kittypet and couldn’t take him yet but invited him in when he was old enough #he’s welcomed in and claimed by Redtail and Spottedleaf is so happy to see her nephew #I think it’d also be cool as a healer rusty au #keep his name rusty. rustyflower or rustybelly for his care but stubborn nature #he has a strong gut he sticks to #Rusty wc #wc au #warrior cats au #redtail #Spottedleaf #wc thoughts

[mllemaenad]

Listening to Wyll's backstory in context of all the details we're acquiring on devil's contracts and soul selling is fascinating.

See - I listened to Lann Tarv's three tales to get my soul coins. I felt bad for making Karlach listen to that, obviously, but to be honest I didn't even want the coins that much. I actually wanted the stories. I wanted a better understanding of how this works.

And what I'm learning is - for the gods (and godlike beings) of this world, cruelty seems to be the point. I mean - it's possible there's a god in this world I wouldn't want to stab to death with a rusty fork, but if so I have not met them yet.

These beings have the power to save people and places, to change lives, to do anything. And when someone asks them to - they demand a terrible price. But they don't just demand a price. They subvert the original request in such a way that they utterly fail to deliver on the original promise.

An abused woman wishes to be loved - and her true love appears, but dies instantly. A man wishes to save his children from starvation, and ends up personally growing masses of meat on his own body - not only painful for him, but forcing his children into survival cannibalism, which they were trying to avoid.

Auntie Ethel works the same way. Every one of her customers is left in a tortured state, while Ethel still takes her payment.

The idea is that the person must come to regret their wish long before the payment comes due. Every cry for help must be met with a boot to the face. Or else the mortals will get uppity? Or something.

What is interesting is how consciously Wyll defies that. And how much Mizora is dancing around, trying to force him into that state of miserable regret.

Wyll was manipulated into selling his soul. He was a kid, and he was summoned into a terrible situation - and in that moment, he could see no other way to save the city. Mizora did need to save Baldur's Gate to serve her boss's purposes, so she couldn't take that victory from him - but she did everything she could to take the joy of it.

He didn't get respect, or admiration, or his father's pride for saving the city. He lost his home and his family. He was assumed to have done something monstrous because he was denied an opportunity to defend himself.

That was supposed to fill him with bitterness and regret - but he got to work building his own life instead. By the time you run into him, the Blade of Frontiers is a hero of some renown. He's remade himself, and found a way to enjoy what his powers can do, however he came by them.

So that didn't work.

Then Mizora sent him after Karlach, and that was a mission tailored to break him. Karlach is kind and heroic herself, and that the start she has been sold into slavery, mutilated and forced to fight in a war against her will. If Wyll killed her, and then found out who she really was, then he betrayed everything the Blade of Frontiers is supposed to stand for - and he would lose the life he made for himself.

But he didn't, and that didn't work either. He's got a friend, now, who at least knows part of what he's dealing with.

So Mizora gave him demonic features. That would destroy the life he's made for himself, because no one would trust him to help them.

Except now Wyll basically goes nowhere on his own, and a small army of people can attest that he got those horns and eyes as punishment for being a good man. Mizora might be able to shut his mouth, but she can't silence his friends - and the group absolutely have shouting sessions about everything. Wyll's horns become a battle scar, like his missing eye, and nothing more.

And beyond that, if you are playing as a heroic character, a significant throughline in the game's story is the journey of the tiefling refugees. The story makes it clear that these people experience a constant barrage of racism, due to their appearance and "demonic" heritage. It also makes it abundantly clear that this prejudice is entirely undeserved - they're just people, with virtues and flaws like everyone else, and what is happening to them is terrible. So Wyll turns up to assist a bunch of people whom he now at least somewhat resembles - and with Karlach along, you have two people in the group who technically count as "infernal", but haven't got an evil bone in either of their bodies.

Mizora created solidarity. Oops.

Wyll is deeply suspicious of gods and higher powers. He doesn't want to make more deals with devils. When Elminster arrives to tell Gale what Mystra demands of him, he explicitly says he does not do religion. When you get Mizora to agree to let his contract expire in six months, he starts by casually invoking the gods - but switches to thanking the player character instead, because he knows who helped, and who did not.

But he utterly refuses to regret the pact he made. That can be a struggle. He clearly misses his dad, and would like that relationship repaired. The fact that he was transformed very much against his will is clearly a source of distress from him.

But if he regrets, then Mizora wins. That's it. Game over. She gets what she wanted all along. So he doesn't.

The main companion characters all have this kind of problem, and naturally have different ways of dealing with it. You have characters like Shadowheart and Lae'zel, who were indoctrinated as children, or Gale, who was literally seduced by one of these nightmare deities - and with them you have to start out by convincing them they they were the wronged party in the first place.

But Wyll knows exactly what game he's playing, and he's been screaming defiance the whole time. It's just that, in his case, the "defiance" is grinning and carrying on every time Mizora inflicts some more bullshit on him.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-four of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon.

“I’d say maybe a picnic in the park or something but that seems incredibly dangerous unless I can pre-verify that Ivy’s in Arkham,” Tim muses, smacking a few more goons upside the skull. The others are already scattering to bolt, and there’s not much point in chasing them down; they broke up the deal and sent the suppliers running, and that was the main concern. Now they can track down their source and go from there. “And even then it’s kinda fifty-fifty.” 

“Yeah, you never know what she’s left out there,” Dick agrees. “Plus sometimes the things she’s left out there cross-pollinate, and then no one knows what’s out there, including her.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Tim says with a grimace, having unpleasant flashbacks to the skunkweed thorns and pitcher plant trees. Ivy’s creative enough without any accidental cross-pollination happening. 

“So what does planning a date have to do with that YJ-related op?” Dick inquires casually as the last of the grunts either hit the ground or flee. Tim does not freeze, because he's not fucking new here. 

“Nothing,” he lies. “I’m cycling through the projects I have scheduled to work on this week. Next there’s a stakeout uptown and some reoptimization of my utility belt organization.” 

“Planning dates is in the same category as ops and stakeouts and equipment maintenance, huh?” Dick asks with a laugh, holstering his sticks and then reaching over to ruffle his hair. “Never change, baby bird.” 

Tim is absolutely going to, but again, hopefully not before thirty and ideally while bringing Dick along for the ride. Dick would be a terrible supervillain and also probably pout if Tim put Superman in a kryptonite death trap to sit and think about what he’s done, but Tim loves him and wants him to be happy and also wants to make this awful fucking world a better place, and you don’t do that by just ditching all your friends and co-workers; you plan ahead and work with them, flaws and all. 

Anyway, Barbara would be good at being a supervillain, and she’d be a lot likelier to come along for the ride if Dick did. So that’s also another reason to recruit him. 

They’d both probably like to kill the Joker, anyway. Maybe they could make the rusty crowbar and shrapnel bomb plan a group activity? That’d be nice. 

Look, Batman doesn’t kill, obviously, but Tim isn’t Batman, Dick and Babs are also not Batman, and none of them ever intend to be. So “Batman doesn’t kill” is, in fact, only Bruce’s problem. 

“So I know you’re going to laugh at me for this, but you know the circus is in town next week, right?” Dick says, sparing him a smirk. Tim considers tripping him with his bo staff. “You know, for this totally theoretical and generic one-size-fits-all date that you definitely don’t have anyone in mind for.” 

“While I appreciate the suggestion, the person I don’t have anything in mind for has terrible self-esteem and I promised her someplace ‘nice’ for this totally theoretical and generic one-size-fits-all date,” Tim says, because he is definitely still in the closet here and he is not giving a Bat the clue of saying “they” to obfuscate Kon’s gender. Might as well light the Bat signal with a pride flag filter over it, for fuck’s sake. “She might take fifteen-dollar tickets and sawdust floors the wrong way.” 

“That just means she lacks taste, baby bird,” Dick hums easily, putting his hands on his hips and tapping a foot in consideration. “Hm. Well, Zatanna also happens to be in town next week.” 

Tim considers what it’d do to his self-esteem to watch Kon spend an hour-long show drooling over a gorgeous older woman in fishnets, spanks, and a sexy tuxedo jacket and decides not to go there. Also, there’s the issue of Zatanna potentially recognizing him, and also potentially recognizing Kon, who he doesn’t think she’s ever met but is both terrible at secret identities and a teen heartthrob superhero whose face is all over the place and also looks exactly like Superman’s on top of that. And Zatanna has definitely met Superman.

So yeah, that seems unlikely to end well either way. 

“Maybe,” he says, finally retracting his staff and putting it away. “I don’t know if she likes going to any kind of shows, honestly. Like–I just don’t know her that well yet. Theoretically, obviously.” 

“Obviously,” Dick agrees with a laugh, pulling out his grappling gun and wagging it at him. “Race you back to the Cave? Winner gets tips on how to charm a totally normal civilian who definitely doesn’t fight crime in a cheerleader skirt.” 

Tim has no idea how he feels about the fact Dick is so certain Cissie is the one he’s trying to plan a date for. Then again, Cissie is the one who yelled at half the Justice League. So maybe he sort of understands the assumption. 

Kon looks better in a crop top, though, Tim privately promises himself to never actually say out loud. Like, he definitely does look better, in Tim’s opinion, but a) Cissie would shoot him for said opinion and b) Kon would be unbearably smug about said opinion. And unfortunately, Tim finds Kon’s preening smugness increasingly charming, so he really can’t be doing that to himself. 

He was so damn proud of himself about the fucking crop top, the bastard. Tim should burn it. Or buy him twenty more. One or the other. 

The shorts he’s just not going to think about right now. Like. Ever again. 

He’s pretty sure they’d work better with a thong than boxer briefs, though. Or just going commando outright, maybe. Tactile telekinesis probably makes chafing less of a concern, Tim figures. 

Not that he’s thought about that. At all. In any way. Ever. 

Definitely not. 

Dick fires his grapple and takes off. Tim pretends to be extremely heterosexual about Cissie and not even slightly gay about Kon, though he has very little idea how to actually do that, and rushes after him. There’s basically no way he’s actually going to beat Dick unless criminal activity interferes or Dick just lets him beat him, of course, because Dick’s been flying all his life and flying in specifically Gotham since he was literally prepubescent, and Tim has just been sneaking around random rooftops and alleyways and only actually known how to do a basic somersault for a couple of years, much less any real acrobatics or aerial work. So like, there’s definitely a skill gap there. 

Might as well chuck a flying fish at a hummingbird and see who comes out ahead, really. 

Technically, though, Dick mostly works out of Bludhaven these days, so technically . . . 

Look, Tim just so happens to know about certain construction-related shortcuts that may or may not be currently relevant thanks to some surprise rogue attacks last week, and even if he weren’t pretending to be heterosexual about Cissie he’d be trying to beat Dick back to get first dibs on Alfred’s jaffa cakes, so . . . 

The jaffa cakes are delicious, though the dating advice is unfortunately irrelevant. 

Tim appreciates the thought, at least.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #young just us #young justice #rinfic #long post #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

[countryclubkook]

Him or Me

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!Thornton!Reader

Warnings: language, topper being a slight asshole, small mention of parent death and absent parent, not proof read so potential grammatical errors, slightly ooc/fanon Rafe I think that’s all but please let me know if there’s anymore I should add

Summary: when Topper finds out his best friend Rafe is secretly dating his sister behind his back, all hell breaks loose. Will they be able fix their relationship? Or will the betrayal be too much to recover from?

A/N: This is the first story i’ve written in months so i’m still a little rusty. I wanted to get something out though to get back into the groove of things. Italicized means flashback, this also is meant to take place in season 1 after Sarah and John B are together so I hope you all enjoy🤍 I left the ending of this slightly open for a potential part two if people want it/I decide to write one (Topper is 19 and reader is 18 for the sake of this story, Rafe is his canon age in the show)

“You know I’ll take care of you right?” he spoke with such certainty. How could you not believe him?

It was never supposed to be this way, you and your brother's best friend being together, but when he gave you those bedroom eyes and whispered those sweet nothings in your ear how could you resist? The both of you kept it a secret from Topper as long as you could knowing his overprotective nature when it came to you. He had found out when he saw the two of you kissing at the country club, that was a bad night for the three of you.

“My fucking sister dude? Are you kidding me? You could have any girl on this island but you go after my sister?” the vein on his neck popping out as he screamed at Rafe. Neither of you had expected him to be home, let alone for him to be waiting in the living room for you two to come back. As soon as Rafe stepped into the door he was thrown against the wall by his neck, a very angry Topper staring at him with pure hatred.

“Topper stop, let him go. Please.” you pleaded with him but it was no use, his grip stayed the same and he acted as if you weren't there. They were in their own world at that moment.

“Fucking relax man, I chose her for a reason. I love her, and you're not going to stop me from seeing her. So if you're going to hit me and tell me to stay away from her, do it so we can get this over with.” he was visibly annoyed by this as his tone confirmed it. Sure they were friends, but you meant more to Rafe than anyone else so your big brother trying to prevent your relationship was simply just an inconvenience that had no real effect at all.

The two men stared at each other for a moment, nostrils flaring and veins so visible you were getting concerned about their health. It wasn't until Topper let go of Rafe with a small scoff that you felt you could breathe again. You've never felt more shitty in your whole life than you did when Topper looked at you with such betrayal and hurt. He just shook his head and stormed out of the house, the front door slamming behind him.

“Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't know he would be here” you say as you rush over to him and examine his neck that was now red (and would inevitably bruise) from the grip Topper had on it. He watched as you examined him with such worry and such a gentle touch that it reminded him yet again why he was with you, that you were worth whatever argument ensued because you showed him love nobody else would.

“Baby, I'll be fine. I'm more worried about you being okay than my neck.” grabbing the sides of your face and forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were glossy with tears and your breathing slightly uneven. Your relationship with Topper was different than the one Rafe had with his sisters, it had always just been the two of you since you were growing up. Your dad had died when you were babies and your mom was a piece of shit who was never around so that left the two of you to protect and raise each other. Hurting him felt like the biggest stab in the chest and you felt terrible.

“I-” your sobs overpowered your voice before you could finish as you broke down in your lover's arms. His shushed comfort helped bring you some peace but not nearly enough to stop the feeling in your chest from growing. He had moved you over to the couch and held you in his lap until your cries eventually stopped and your breathing remained calm.

“Baby?” he asked quietly in case you had fallen asleep. When he got no response, he gently laid you on the couch and covered you with a blanket before kissing your cheek and heading out to find your brother. Rafe was probably the last person he wanted to see but he would try to talk to him for you.

That “talk” didn't go very well. You didn't know what was said, all you know is that Topper came home bloodied and bruised and didn't say a word to you. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together when you saw Rafes bruised knuckles the next day and his excuse was that he “wanted to try boxing without his gloves”. But a few weeks had passed since then and you thought it would be fine, you and Top would go back to normal and eventually he and Rafe would reconcile like nothing ever happened. If only it was that easy.

Topper had grown increasingly hostile toward you when he decided to acknowledge your existence. His responses were always short and snappy like you were the most horrible person to be speaking with. You knew the only way of fixing this was breaking up with Rafe but there was no way in hell you were doing that so you instead just tried to give him space when you could. But one day he decided that ignoring each other wasn't enough, he needed you to know your options.

‘We need to talk’ one text that always has the ability to make your heart race. You stare at it for 10 minutes trying to figure out the right response before you type back a simple ‘Okay’, his next text telling you he’d meet you at the house in ten minutes. You felt like throwing up and your anxiety was through the roof. You knew what he wanted to talk about, that's what made you nervous. It felt like hours had passed when you finally heard the front door open and heavy footsteps approach the kitchen. Your heartbeat had become very quick when he came into your peripheral vision.

“Hi” a simple word used to greet people now had a more hostile meaning behind it. You finally looked up to see him but he was already looking at you. He still had that same look in his eyes he had that day. Betrayal, disgust, anger, every emotion you had hoped you'd never see him have towards you.

“Hi” your voice much smaller as you tried to avoid his hard gaze. An awkward silence passed for a few moments before he finally spoke again. There was clearly no small talk to be made so it was now or never.

“I'm giving you two options, and I never thought I'd have to say this to you of all people but I guess you really can't trust everyone. I understand you think you love Rafe and that he loves you, but you don't know him like me. Rafe Cameron doesn't ever love someone, he uses them to his advantage until he no longer needs them around and then he leaves them in the dirt. I'm not staying around to watch that happen to you so it's him or me.” his voice was stern, there was no hesitation in his words. He meant every last thing he had just told you.

You stared at him for a moment trying to process what you just heard, did he really just give you an ultimatum? You half expected him to laugh and tell you he was just fucking with you, that he was still upset you hadn't told him but as long as you were happy so was he, but that moment never came. Instead, he continued to stare at you with a pierced gaze waiting for your response.

“Are you serious right now Top?” you chuckled in disbelief. There was no way this was happening right now.

“As serious as a heart attack” no hint of amusement in his voice. Your emotion quickly changed from guilt to anger as his words finally registered.

“You have no right to do that. None. Rafe and I do love each other, we don't think that. You don't know our relationship and this was exactly why we didn't want you finding out. I'm not a baby anymore Topper. I'm a big girl and I can make my own decisions about things, including who I date. If that backfires that's on me and I learn from it. You don't get to decide that for me.” your face had turned red and you felt hot. How dare he make you choose between them.

“Y/N you don't understand okay? I know how he works, I've seen it happen. He's only going to hurt you when-” he tried to argue but you cut him off.

“No. You don't understand. He treats me better than anyone else ever has, he makes me feel loved. You don't know anything about love, that's why your girlfriend cheated on you with a fucking pogue.” his face fell at the comment. You knew it was harsh and uncalled for but you were too upset to care.

“Fuck you Y/N. I'm giving you one last chance to make the right choice” you knew he meant that.

“Fine. You want me to choose so badly? I choose him, I'll always choose him.” your breathing was heavy as you yelled at him. There was no taking it back now so you could only hope it didn't end badly for you.

“Okay” he scoffed “just don't come crying to me when he breaks your heart. You mean nothing to me anymore” he spoke with such disgust that it took everything in you not to cry.

“I won't. He's never going to do that to me” you spoke to him with the same voice he had spoken to you. The two of you staring at each other with anger and a look of disbelief that this had happened to you. Topper gave one last shake of his head before going up the stairs to what you thought was his room. It wasn't until you heard a loud thud a few minutes later that you realized he was in yours.

One by one, bags and boxes of your things came flying down the stairs. Topper was standing at the top with his arms crossed and a satisfied look on his face.

“You want to be with him so bad you can go stay with him. I don't want a lying whore living with me.” his words hurt you more than would ever admit but you swallowed your tears and began packing your car with your things, getting in and starting the car to drive to Rafes once the last thing was thrown in.

He hadn't expected to see your text but all he could do was worry when you’d told him you were on your way to him. The only thing comforting him was pacing around the room and thinking of all the ways he could try and help you. He heard your call pull up and almost broke the door getting to you and his heart shattered when he saw you. Tears streamed down your face, eyes red and puffy, you looked destroyed.

As soon as you were in his arms you broke down, the both of you falling to the ground as your sobs echoed in the warm air. The familiar smell of Rafe's cologne made you feel safe, a feeling you hadn't fully felt since Rafe and Topper's fight. It felt like you were finally home and could relax, the war was over and you could just live again.

“Shh baby it's okay, you're safe now. I've got you” he said as he rested his head on top of yours and wrapped his arms around you tightly. There wasn't much that could be said to help you feel better about the situation but knowing you weren't alone did help to make you feel good. Topper was just jealous he didn't have this type of love with Sarah.

You'd finally calmed down enough to unload your things into Rafe's room. Ward adored you so letting you stay with them was absolutely no issue which you were so thankful for.

Hours had passed and your tears had long stopped. You had taken a nice long shower and now you were in bed with Rafe, it felt natural to you. He gave you a small nudge to get your attention and your eyes met his. He had a slight smirk on his face.

“What? Do I have something on my face” your eyes widening slightly worried you had forgotten to wipe some makeup off your face.

“No no it's not that, it's just… I could get used to this you know? It feels right” his voice was much softer now.

“It does, doesn't it? Maybe this whole situation isn't so bad after all” it was very bad, but maybe you could convince yourself otherwise if you said it enough.

Rafe could see you thinking about the situation again despite what you'd just said so he grabbed your face to hold it in place. His eyes never leaving yours for a second.

“You know I'll take care of you right?” and you had no doubt he would, fuck Topper. You just needed Rafe. He would never betray you like Topper, he would never hurt you the way your brother did. He loved you.

“I know” you smiled sweetly at him before giving him a soft kiss, both of you enjoying the moment of peace before pulling away to turn the lights off. Sleep slowly engulfing you as you relaxed into the others touch. This is how it was meant to be.

If only you knew exactly what getting involved with Rafe Cameron would turn into.

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron x thornton!reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #obx angst #obx imagine

[aris-ink]

Hi, I was wondering if I can request a Yandere Yoongi x reader where she’s really shy and innocent and he’s all soft with her. Praise kink. Maybe something supernatural, sorry that’s all I got. 😅Your stories are so well written and a guilty pleasure of mine so it would mean so much if you can write something with these things. ☺️

I love you ❤️ tysm and I'm sorry this turned out so mushy 🥺 I'm also a bit rusty with supernatural aus so...

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: romance, werewolf!au

warnings: mentions of violence (not towards the reader), praise kink, loving degradation (just a tiny bit), dirty talk, hints of breeding kink and multiple orgasms, possessiveness, marking, creampie, so... much... love.....

The clocks always seemed to stop when Yoongi kissed you. He was a rather quiet soul, but he didn't need to say much for you to hear him. Everything that lingered on his tongue ended up sinking into your lips, pages upon pages of questions, love letters and musings you stored away deep in your heart.

He liked to trace soft patterns into your skin as he kissed you, his fingertips shaping different galaxies on your thighs, sliding upwards whenever he felt you shiver.

He liked taking his time learning the language of your body. He yearned to become fluent in it, hold long, nightly conversations, tangled under the sheets with you from dusk to dawn.

He had read about the concept of twin flames somewhere, two halves of the same soul. Mirroring each other and yet differing, like yin and yang. He wasn't well versed in theology or matters of the spirit; he wasn't even human. But what else could he call you if not his other half? The light to his dark.

His betas quickly learned not to put your name in their mouth with anything other than respect. No person or monster was a threat to you as long as Yoongi existed in some way. Even in death he'd crawl out of his grave to drag anyone who touched a hair on your head right under the ground and into the pits of hell. In the end, the only thing that awakened the beast inside him and put it back to sleep was the moon.

You were his moon.

He liked to kiss you everywhere. Your shyness only served to make him want to do it more, something about it provoking his possessiveness in the most feral of ways.

His lips pressed into the wet patch on your underwear softly, dark eyes flicking up to your face. He could see the faint embarrassment painting your features, shadowed by desire that made your thighs clench.

"So sweet," his deep voice rumbled, another small kiss following. The slight pressure of his lips on your wet slit, even with the cotton material in the way, made you moan softly.

Yoongi appreciated that. He expressed his adoration with a throaty, pleased hum, his tongue flattening to lick a fat stripe up your cunt.

You sighed out his name and shuddered, your back arching off the bed. His hungry gaze followed the movement intensely; such a sensual curve. He wanted to make you arch higher and see stars. Touch their heat and make all your dreams come true.

He rubbed his cheek against the inside of your thigh, purring, breathing in the heavenly scent of your skin and your arousal.

"Please, Yoongi," you whined, so cutely he didn't know if it made his dick or his heart throb harder.

A hint of a smile glowed on his face, both warm and taunting.

"Please," he echoed, lifting himself up so he could hover above you, "what?"

You didn't look away, but you did fist your hands in the sheets, chest heaving and brows scrunched. He could see the struggle in your eyes, could hear the nervous but excited pitter patter of your heart. His large hand enveloped your cheek, his thumb stroking it tenderly.

"You're doing so well, my sweet girl," he murmured, his free hand exploring your bare waist. Your skin burned to the touch, soft like velvet, your lashes fluttering. "So, so well."

He watched the tension slowly seep out of your muscles as he caressed you, lips brushing against your neck, his hand sliding to fondle your breast.

"Just keep going, baby." His thumb toyed with your hardened nipple, muscular thighs setting themselves comfortably in between yours. "You're so beautiful," he whispered. "All mine, and I'm yours."

His hips rolled into you, his cock hard and throbbing, nudging against your clit. "Tell me what you want. Take what's yours."

You moaned into his ear, your hips lifting off the bed to press closer to his crotch. Yoongi's jaw clenched, a hiss slipping past his teeth.

"Please-" you swallowed, trying to bury your shyness, trying not to escape and hide away parts of yourself that felt new. Yoongi loved all of them, he always said. He was desperate to experience all of you, raw and unfiltered. He left more encouraging, butterfly kisses along your throat, helping you slip away.

"Please fuck me," you finally moaned.

The words shot through his aching cock, precum drizzling out from the tip. Curling his fingers under your panties, he pushed them aside.

"Such a good girl," he cooed. "So well mannered too, yeah?"

Slowly, he lined himself up with your slick entrance, pushing forward. The gasp that escaped you made his stomach twist. Inch by inch, he stretched you out, your cunt pulsing around his thickness. He settled inside you with a grunt, squeezing your thigh.

"God," he gritted, "this pussy was made for me."

That was all the warning you got before he rolled his hips and started a rhythmic pace, his thrusts hard and deep, rocking your body beneath him. The little moans you let out mingled with the wet sounds of skin slapping, and Yoongi wanted to ruin you right then and there. Pull the temple of your body apart brick by brick to study it and insert himself into every crack before rebuilding it, merging you forever.

"You feel so good," he groaned.

His tongue traced the faint scar on your neck, one he made when he bit into you on your first night together. Human traditions were different from his, but he wanted to follow both, honor who you were. It wasn't a problem. In fact, it excited him. He could mark you as his mate and put a pretty ring on your finger. The more ways he could find to make it clear that you were his, the better. He'd take them all. And then it wouldn't be his fault if someone was left mangled in the forest for stepping too close to you. You were his and his only.

The thought took over him completely, spreading fire through his veins. He fucked you harder, his hand gripping your chin to make you look at him.

"Mine."

The word came out as a growl, just as menacing as it was loving. His cock throbbed as your back arched again, a mewl leaving your swollen, flushed lips.

"I wanna fill you up," he breathed. "Fuck, I can't wait for everyone to see I get to fuck this tight little cunt and come inside it so much you're carrying my kid."

You tightened around him, your eyes wide and sparkling, pulling another growl out of his chest.

"Mm, perfect fucking baby. Best, prettiest girlfriend," he kissed you hard, his tongue as ruthless as his cock, owning and devouring. "Gon' be the best, prettiest wife," he mumbled into your lips, "and the best, prettiest mama."

"Yoongi," you whined, your nails digging into his strong shoulders. The sharp sting induced goosebumps, a low moan slipping past his lips.

"Yeah, I know, baby. I know."

He slipped his hand under your ass and gripped the soft flesh possessively, ramming his cock into you faster.

"My little slut needs to come, huh?" He mumbled breathlessly. "Needs my cock to leave her gaping and dripping."

Your thighs shuddered, your cunt clenching around him. Yoongi buried his face into your neck, nipping and sucking at your scar, his cock twitching inside you.

"Close," you breathed. "So close."

Yoongi groaned.

"I can fucking feel it."

He was getting close too, his abdomen getting tighter with every clench of your dripping pussy.

"Come with me," he pleaded, his voice rough and desperate, just like the way he fucked you. "Come on, pretty baby. Come with me and I'll fuck this pretty little pussy again until you're overflowing with me."

He shivered when he felt your walls spasming around him. Combined with your erotic cries sounding through the room, it instantly triggered his own orgasm, his balls throbbing as he emptied himself inside you. Sloppily, he fucked his cum into your tight hole, groaning and swearing into your sweaty skin.

A string of fucks and yeahs and another little shudder, and then he stilled, swallowing harshly. He found it difficult to lift his head for a moment, so instead he focused on caressing your arms, listening to your heartbeat slow.

He sighed, his cock thrumming inside you. His stamina was out of this world, as was his constant need for you. It was never a problem though; even though you were human, you could take it, and it was safe to say your neediness matched his in many ways.

He lifted his head up at last and looked at you, his smile soft, his hips snapping into you.

You moaned, the sound soon muffled by his tongue.

"My good," another sharp thrust followed, "fucking," then a kiss, "girl."

You weren't going to get any sleep. Not for the first time. He pulled out only to flip you onto your stomach and cover your back with his broad chest, leaving a light smack on your ass.

"How many times you think you got in you, baby?"

You definitely weren't going to sleep.

#yoongi here be like dj khaled #another one #dhshdh #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yandere bts #bts imagines #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts reactions

[dhmis-autism]

TALK ABOUT DAD DOG DUO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEEE THEYRE MY FAVES

Okaaay I’ll talk about them! I’ll knock out about three or so things about their relationship that I've noticed that I like about it. Because they are my faves also as well. I mean, look at them!

First, and I’ve seen a post on this before (where I have NO IDEA I’ve BEEN LOOKING) so it’s not my original idea but I love pointing it out; how Duck takes care of YG physically.

First one to rush to get the first aid kit in Jobs, careful enough with Warren extraction in Friendship to not hurt YG, and some could argue that swapping his old rusty  batteries out the first time in Electricity is a form of first aid. There’s also smaller stuff like how based off the flashback in Death, YG clearly trusts Duck enough with things like this to ask for his help.

Second would be the fact that I think their relationship is fairer than a lot of people think. Lots of people seem to have this idea that Duck is sort of a weird parental/authority figure over YG or that their relationship is just Duck constantly berating this guy who thinks the world of him. I’m going to break down why I think both of those points are untrue, and why I think their relationship is closer to equal.

YG clearly feels comfortable enough around Duck to draw boundaries with him. Example that immediately comes to mind, for me, is when Duck is trying to get the other two to leave with him in Family and Yellow straight up just turns him down. Like, if he doesn’t want to do something or go somewhere with him, he won’t.

Also, weirdly enough, the fight in Friendship solidifies more of them being on a equal playing field to me. Like Duck starts it verbally, but YG both makes it physical and immediately tells Duck not to insult him. Which, IMO, you wouldn’t do to someone you totally idolized/a parental figure. YG barely reacts when his own dad pushes him in Family, so I think if he saw Duck as a parental figure he definitely wouldn’t fight back the way he we see him do in Friendship.

Third I’m going to end with cute things about them that I’ve noticed. Starting with of course! Little moments in Death that are sweet like…

YG holding all of Ducks ties during Big Day

Duck ironing white socks in Big Day when we NEVER see him wear socks. YOU KNOW WHO DOES WEAR WHITE SOCKS THOUGH

YG sitting on Ducks bed while he mourns him

The flashback during Memories where Duck yells at him to GET OFF implying that Yellow makes himself comfy in Ducks bed often enough to make Duck annoyed

Their shared interest in music :]

The way they both bob their heads agreeingly in Transport when Red Guy is cycling through driving instruction tapes, implying they both understand the lessons LOL

Of course I have to bring up the (you have diabetes/ maybe your blood sugar is low, let me get you a snack thing) which makes me cry a lil bit. Both because of what it implies about them offscreen AND because as I’ve established in a previous post, when his batteries are Charged, YG’s memory is NOTABLY horrible. And despite that … somehow the diabetes thing was important enough for him to remember <:3

Anyways fav fav fav duo I LOVE them with all my heart. ❤❤❤❤❤

#MY DHMIS POSTINGS #dhmis #dhmis duck #dhmis yellow guy #I THINK SO MUCH ABOUT THEM. I HAVE CRIED OVER THEM SEVERAL TIMES. I LOVE THEM SO SO MUCH #i made. an animation in like 2 days dedicated to their friendship back in nov. made it just for myself to keep i just watch it on loop just #for me. made it jus for me. #anyways I NEED THOSE PLUSHEIES

[lizhrs]

yandere ! ‘businessman’ gojo x y/n

summary: yandere ! gojo not letting y/n break up with him after being caught doing some…illegal stuff (wc: 1083)

dating a man with gojo's status had its perks. you were graced with expensive gifts, spontaneous trips to foreign countries, him picking you up on his private jet for lunch.

and you liked him. he was fun, always kept you guessing and made you feel wanted. why did he choose you out of the numerous woman who wanted to date him? you'll never know but you were grateful.

right now though...yeah not so much.

you never thought you were the naive type. you just expected a man like him was the son of a successful businessman, born into the world with a golden spoon in his mouth, just had everything handed to him. never had to get his hands dirty for anything you never expected...this.

gojo found you in the stairwell, your back against the wall as you crossed your hands over your chest, a deepening pout on your face. he was going to find a way to speak with you somehow and you would rather it was here and not at your apartment building. you didn't want him anywhere near your house. 

he walks closer, putting a hand on your hip and the other on the wall, next to your head so your body is more or less caged in. a deliberate move so you don't run away again.

"i thought you were going to work the entire day." is the first thing he says. it's said so casually despite the pink smeared across his cheek, the drying red stain on his button up shirt. he didn't look like his usual composed self. always so put together. not with his hair all dishelved, missing tie and rolled up sleeves that also had red on them. the gloves he was wearing are no longer there but you still get a sinking feeling in your chest when you look at his hands.

hands that were dripping with blood just moments ago, hands that are now bruised. hands that were holding a rusty knife.

"had i known you were coming, i would've cleaned up." he sighs apologetically. he's acting like all he did was forget to pick up groceries, like he left the stove on and burned dinner. 

like you weren't practically traumatized from seeing a bloodied thrashing body, from hearing pained groans and gojo's condescending laughter looming over the poor man. he leans in, going for a kiss but you quickly turn your head causing his lips to graze against your cheek.

"i thought...you...i thought you worked for your father."

"i do." he says simply. "a family business."

it seems like a regular office building. the lady at front had been kind, smiled at you and told you to go right up. but regular jobs don't exactly require their employees to beat and torture a man half to death. 

"my secretary probably thought you were someone else. i'll have to deal with her." he mutters to himself deep in thought and you grimace at what exactly that means. "i should've been trying to ease you into this since week one. since the moment i knew you were the one for me y/n." 

his fingers grip your chin before you can look away again, his nails digging into your skin as he forces your head upright. you try not to shut your eyes, not to express the fear that's basically radiating off of you right now.

"he deserved it, don't go feeling sorry for him. last thing traitors deserve is sympathy." he places a small kiss on your lips this time. "besides my fathers goons will inflict worse on him, this was basically light work."

worse? what could possibly be worse than what you just saw? the man was groaning in agony, face almost disfigured, missing fingernails...his eyes were...you hold the bile in. "let me go. w-we're over. i won't tell anyone what i saw so just—"

it was pointless and stupid on your part but exactly where you supposed to say? you didn't want to be around him, not when he still had the stench of blood on him. not when the images of all the tools piled up on his desk were still playing in your head. not when the picture of your loving boyfriend who you swore would never hurt a soul standing over and torturing a stranger who didn't even have the energy to fight back keeps rewinding. 

his hand find their way on your throat, fingers tapping against it as he smiles. "we're going to talk later. go home, i'll bring some takeout and we can clear this entire situation up."

"i don't want to—" 

"go home." he's not yelling. in fact, his voice is so hollow it scares you. "and we'll talk later." he emphasizes. "we'll be laughing about this entire thing—"

"you're crazy." you scoff, regretting the words the second they come out. "do you not hear the words coming out of my mouth?"

he sighs, backing away and for a minute you're relived. thinking maybe he's finally seen how irrational he's being but you're proven wrong when he takes out his phone, calling his bodyguard and ordering him to come down to escort you home. 

"i'm not going anywhere—" his hands grab your wrist, the action is fast and already bruising as his grip becomes stronger. he's never used this amount of force with you. the pressure around your wrist almost makes you cry out but you hold it in. 

"you're going to go home. have a nice little bath, maybe take a nap and wait for me to come home and clear this up. okay?" there's no more room for disagreeing, that's obvious in his tone. his dark eyes boring into yours. 

"and you'll apologize for ever thinking you could leave me, won't you?" he smiles, almost empathically. 

hot tears spring to your eyes, your chest feeling too tight for any words to come out. "don't cry sweetheart, we'll sort this entire thing out later and tomorrow i'll treat you to a night out in the city. okay?" he hums. 

you hear footsteps coming down the stairs and it doesn't take a genius to figure out it's his bodyguard. the man stands a few feet away, hands behind his back and if you thought you couldn't escape gojo before...you're definitely stuck now. "okay?"

"...okay." you sniff, finally finding the energy to respond.

"good. see you later." he grins, kissing you one last time before departing up the stairs.

#gojo saturo #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojou saturo #gojou imagine #yandere gojo #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojou satoru x you #jjk gojou #gojou x reader #gojou x y/n

[octavare]

I just had a really coked out AU idea in which Oliver and Mark swap places (Oliver is the first child, Mark is the Thraxan hybrid). Comic spoilers obviously.

So a lot of Oliver’s personality is due to his genetics from being half thraxan (the photographic memory), but even setting that aside we can assume that Oliver is very intelligent. He’s also a lot less emotionally driven than Mark, he’s more of a logical and pragmatic kind of guy.

So what would it mean if Oliver was the one who grew up first on Earth with a human mother? Oh boy.

Oliver doesn’t care too much about Earth in the comics because they aren’t his people, there’s fundamental differences between both of his species and humans for him to really relate to them on the same level, plus the first and most formative few months on his life was spent on Thraxa. But in this AU… he’d be attached to Earth instead.

First major divergence: Oliver wouldn’t be Invincible, he’d be Kid Omni-Man, which raises extreme questions for his public image after Nolan is outed as a conqueror. But in canon, Oliver chooses to go by his father’s name because he wants to continue the image that Omni-Man had originally created as a savior. Unlike Mark, Oliver wouldn’t deny that he is like his father, but he’d focus on the positives rather than looking at the negatives.

Second major divergence: Oliver would not butt heads with Cecil, he’d understand him. He’d likely not even go out to Thraxa to help the Thraxans to begin with (so he probably meets his little brother in a different way—Nolan bringing him to Earth (unlikely since Earth would see him entering the atmosphere and be on his ass), or maybe someone in the coalition tells Oliver, that’s a whole different dilemma. Who knows.

The whole reaniman/Nightwing II dilemma wouldn’t happen because Oliver would understand it. He wouldn’t see anything wrong with it.

Anyway this sends things on a drastically different trajectory since Oliver would still be working for Cecil for the middle third of the story. The Invinci— sorry, Kid Omni-Man War would have Oliver under direct tactical orders from Cecil which could definitely change some things. I do not remember every detail about the Invincible War but I do remember Mark did do some things that weren’t exactly great ideas.

Conquest fake death: Cecil doesn’t have a need to lie to Oliver, the boy is loyal. He tells him that Conq is still alive. Oliver helps the GDA to actually successfully interrogate him. He’d be able to hold him down in his weakened state. And they could execute him after.

I’m going to stop the speculation here for right now because honestly I’m kind of rusty on some of these events (basically everything from IW onward) but I figured it would be worth talking about to see if it gets anyone else thinking.

#invincible #oliver grayson #mark grayson #nolan grayson #cecil stedman

[shiversdownyerspine]

Ole Munch thoughts

I gotta talk about the scene where our mudman is in the tub.

"When Munch was a boy, freedom was a potato. It was you didn't get killed today. Freedom from hunger, from the rusty blade. But to free himself, the man ate first, so others could not. He killed before he was killed. He wanted nothing more because only kings had the freedom to want. And now, everywhere you look, you see kings. Everything they want they call their own and if they cannot have it, they say that they are not free. They even pretend their freedom should be free, that it has no cost, but the cost is always death. Life for life. Me, or you."

Freedom: the power or right to act, speak, and change as one wants without hindrance or restraint. To have privilege. To be unconstrained. To not be shackled by another. Freedom is often associated with liberty and autonomy in the sense of "giving oneself one's own laws".

So for kid Munch, freedom was a potato. If he had this resource, he'd be safe from his own hunger and from threats to his life. As long as he had food to offer, he was safe, he was free to live.

As a man, he ate first, so others could not. He killed before he was killed. All grown up, he became the one with the rusty blade, he takes as he was once taken from. He's a product of his surroundings, of poverty, just doing whatever he can to survive.

He never thought about wanting more out of life because of being constantly told/shown that he can't, only kings could do such a thing. In medieval times, kings were believed to have divine right to rule, they made the laws and their word is god. They were above all others, and only they could want and were free to want.

So Munch is trapped in poverty and the people who are in positions of power insist that there is no way out, this is just how it is. So he sticks with what he knows and continues fighting to survive with the only ways that are available to him.

And he says, 'now (modern times?), everywhere you look you see kings.' Munch sees all these people demanding everything for themselves. That they should be allowed to consume all, like the medieval kings would. They consider themselves gods and above the law and should be treated as such, and they act like it's fine to indulge greed and gluttony, that there is no cost, but Munch has learned from a life in poverty that when you take, someone else goes without.

He was taught there's not enough to go around; when you eat, you are taking food from someone else. When you hesitate to strike, you will get stricken down first. Inevitably someone will be trapped in poverty, struggling to live, and the violent cycle will continue. The one who goes without will resort to anything, will have to resort to anything, just to survive for another day.

Thus the cost of a king's freedom (indulging endless gluttony/greed) is someone's death. It's the people living in poverty, that already have so little available to them, that suffer from a king's freedom. "Me, or you." (aka him and the old woman)

It honestly looks like Ole is trying to connect with the old woman in his own way. He's giving her some of his history and saying he understands what it's like to not have enough, be exploited, and struggle to survive.

But the old woman doesn't understand. She's still trying to figure out why he's in her home, what he wants from her.

And when she questions him, I think Munch took her meaning a bit differently lol.

I think he took it as her asking him, 'Why did you seek out my company?' and 'What do you want out of life?'

Now think about everything he said and consider that question again. "What do you want?"

Munch just got done talking about freedom, about food, safety, kings, and not being able to want anything else other than surviving another day. Sam Spruell also mentioned no one has ever asked Munch what he wants, no one else has cared. The old woman just might be the very first.

And he blinks like he's in disbelief and looks at her with such awe and desperation. He looks like he's about to cry. No one has asked him that before, no one has implied that he can seek out more from life than just survival. I think the old woman opened a door for him. He is allowed to want.

And what does he want? Pancakes. :O

And what was it that Dot was looking so longingly at in the gas station? Bisquick pancake mix. A reminder of her daughter, of her family, of the wonderful life she's made for herself. A better life than what she had before, full of joy, love, and forgiveness. And Munch wants pancakes. COINCIDENCE? I THINK NOT.

(It's possible there's also other meanings behind pancakes when viewed alongside poverty, medieval times, breakfast, and religion, but let's save that for another day.)

#ole munch #fargo

[strangeshoepatrolbandit]

Really excited for how your brotherly love series will go. And I just love how you included Tim and Jason because they’re my faves.

Can’t wait to read about some bonding between Jason and the reader

Sorry this is gonna be a long ass ask because there’s just a lot of things I want to comment on and ask.

There’s so many avenues you can explore. I’m kind of surprised only Damian is the only one who decides to take up crime fighting while the twin is fine with staying behind and exploring the mansion. One question I have is does the reader ever feel as if they’re living in Damian’s shadow? Like especially since Bruce bonds with Damian since Damian has taken up the mantle of Robin, then I’m gonna assume that Dick and Tim also spend time training their successor. Between training, vigilante duties, and time running Wayne Enterprises, that doesn’t leave a lot of free time. Does the reader ever feel left out/ignored or that Damian is the favorite? Or in other words, since the reader hasn’t thrown a tantrum that they’re stuck at the manor and they mainly seem to keep to themselves, do Bruce, Dick, and Tim seem to think Damian is a higher flight risk/the twin that is more reckless and needs more attention?

Poor reader. It hit a little close to home on the insecurities of being irritating/a nuisance to those your love.

Two, I think it’s so sweet that the reader was able to open up to Alfred that Damian yelled at them. I love how at least one of the Wayne’s is able to be open and express their emotions in a healthy way.

Three, you know how DCAU’s Batman vs Robin, Damian has a hard time getting past the security system. Idk but especially since Damian is the one who took up the mantle of Robin and it seems as if his primary focus is on training, I think it’d be such a funny thing to see him frustrated that his twin can bypass the security system with ease when the last time they picked up a sword or did any kind of conditioning was months ago before they lived with Bruce. And even Bruce, Dick, and Tim are scratching their heads since they thought you were the more well behaved and quiet one they didn’t have to worry about.

Damian: *fuming* I trained 18 hours every day for the past two months and couldn’t bypass the electric fence. How were you able to get pass the security system and then travel all the way to another country without any one detecting you until you got back?

Reader: *shrugs* don’t know. Maybe you’re rusty.

Next point, I mean especially since you mentioned that Jason’s eyes were an unnatural shade of green and he has that white streak in his hair, you can have the reader get inspired after hearing Jason’s story. They sneak away from the manor and try to (or successfully??) revive Ra’s by digging up their grandparents corpse and dunking it in the Lazarus pit.

That would be such an interesting parenting moment between Bruce and the reader. Poor Bruce can’t catch a break. He has to sit one kid down to explain why murder is not justice and then talk to the other kid that death is a natural part of life and it is not normal and somewhat questionably unethical to sneak out of the house to dig up your grandfather’s corpse and dip them in a magical lake to bring them back to life

Bruce: *sitting across from the reader rubbing his temples* so hypothetically if your hamster died, would you dunk it in a Lazarus pit because you missed them

Reader: I don’t know. I’ve never had a hamster.

But judging by your tone, I assume you want me to answer no..? You told Damian it was wrong to kill Deathstroke to take revenge for killing grandfather. Hypothetically, if if a very very very bad parakeet killed your hamster—

Bruce: dear god you’ve spent way too much with Jason

Anyways sorry to bug you with the long ass ramble. Hope some of it made sense. Bottom line, I’m looking forward to what comes next and if you ever need a beta reader or just want to spitball/brainstorm with anyone I’m all ears

You were not bugging me at all, I'm so glad that you enjoyed my story!!<333.

(I hope I make sense in this I have issues explaining things so bear with me)

To go over some of your topics, I feel that Damian is more career driven and felt comfortable being Robin because his life was spent being trained to be an assassin. I feel as if the reader is taking a break from the life they were forced to have by trying to live a "normal" life at the Manor. I will now go more into the topics of reader's insecurities, as we know they feel like they are annoying the people they are around, after a while they start to see how everyone is treating Damian like a normal person, whilst they are being treated like a child(even though they are), and they start to think that since Damian has been proving himself they just like him more. Everyone in the Manor does love them though, it's just Damian has hobbies in common with them so they feel that they have more to talk about(Wayne enterprises/Vigilante work), plus reader just stopped hanging out with everyone so how can people get to know them?

Yes, I wanted the reader to be able to have a healthy coping mechanism such as talking, literally all of the batfam has bad issues with talking except for Jason because homeboy goes to therapy(he too is an ex emotionally constipated person). Also yes reader does just have that magic touch, they are an Al-Ghul/Wayne, everyone knows reader was trained the exact same as Damian so it's a little bizarre that they are so good at something after being away from their training.

The reader is much aware of Ra's dips in the Lazarus pit and how it's kept him alive all these years, but I think that they understand that there is no help for Ra's, just like Talia said "the pit can't help a body that far gone"(or something), the reader is a little upset that after Jason had been beaten and put in a building with a bomb that the Lazarus pit still had a way to revive him(Reader and Damian both love animals and have definitely been in trouble for reviving random animals with dips in the pit LMAO). Reader, Damian, and Talia all share the same hatred for Deathstroke and all want him gone, whilst Damian and Talia are attempting to find and kill Deathstroke, reader just sits back because they know Talia has it handled. After spending time with Jason and sympathizing with him about his death, Bruce realizes that reader is all for getting revenge on people, they never did anything about Deathstroke but fully agree and understand Jason's reasoning behind wanting the Joker dead.

This actually meant so much, I'm sososososo glad you enjoyed Pt.1 of Brotherly Love!!! I have had a terrible night and this made it better!!!<33

( I definitely projected in this story, does anyone else have sibling issues?)

....Much love, Strangeshoepatrolbandit....

#x reader #batman #bruce wayne #damian wayne x batsis #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian al ghul #jason todd x reader #jason todd #batfam x batsis #batfamily #bat family #batboys #batfam #batkids #batbros #the batfamily

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 150

 Reverse age robins/batfam, but Bruce is also included in this age-shift. 

Damian is in fact the oldest, how was he created? Well that’s a wonderful question, one he didn’t have until he found what looks like a bit of a cloning lab while sneaking where he should definitely not be and well, he was going to have a mission anyway so. The Waynes find a drenched at-the-time six year old out in the rain and with several knives. 

 It’s like coaxing a half feral cat, but they do manage to get him inside even if they can’t get answers out of him. But they do get him to relax and get him some legal papers since he apparently doesn’t exist. And it’s… different then what he’s used to. Calmer. More peaceful. 

 When the two die he nearly snaps, they were the closest things he had to proper parents, people who were kind to him and taught him kindness. He was out of practice, rusty in skills he could have used to save them. Something he’ll never let happen again. 

 Which, hm. He didn’t mean to become a vigilante. He really didn’t, but he has to make sure the city is safe. He has the training, he knows how to go unseen, even if he hesitates with some deaths. Thomas would be disappointed. So he stays his hand if he can help it. 

 Now if only the tiny meta child would stop following him. What was their name… D… D something Thomas. The world must be playing some sort of sick joke on him. A horrible sick joke. It doesn't matter if it's been years now. It still hurts. 

 So maybe he investigates things, if only because this child is an idiot, and- Ugh, this is all the Waynes’ fault for giving him things like empathy, how disgusting. Fine, fine, he’ll train you, if only so you stop jumping off of bridges with no equipment or anything. 

 Duke is honestly relieved to get training, even if it’s exhausting. And he doesn’t have to return to the orphanage or anything, his teacher doesn’t seem to care! Which means he’s slightly betrayed when he finds out Damian has in fact applied him to homeschool. The kid is nine, as the Waynes would say, and needed to continue his education. 

So Signal joins Ghoul in mostly-nightly patrols. 

 And then apparently their neighbor discovers them. Damian is so annoyed at himself. A twelve year old. A twelve year old discovered their identities, which means more contingencies and preventative measures are needed. This one’s last name isn’t so painful- Drake- but the kid reminds him of a bedraggled kitten that he begrudgingly invites him into the manor. 

 Which ugh, he’s going to get attached, the kid is already feeding the ducks with Duke and is trying to coax his dog over for pets. And also wants training- even though his espionage is actually surprisingly decent for a civilian and a literal child. Dammit he’s getting soft. 

And so Wren joins them as well, freeing the children up to continue their civilian education. Even if he’s also doubling it as undercover training. 

 So why is Drake smiling nervously up at him with another costumed child squinting up at him. Oh the costume is definitely homemade, barely any protection save for a way to hide her identity, but still. It’s rather obvious what she’s up to. 

 And he can protest, he can, but she does complete the training gauntlet so fine. Fine. That doesn’t mean he’s going to take it easy on any of them, even if he gently dumps several kittens into their laps if he’s feeling affectionate enough. Stupid wide-eyes like stray dogs. 

Spoiler joins them by the summer. 

 Which, honestly, he’s slightly resigned when they bring home another child. A literal street urchin who tries to bite him like some sort of kitten, so he scruffs him like one. This is karma for his own violence as a child, isn’t it? 

 Though perhaps not, seeing as Todd was the most interested in schooling. Maybe he could get him interested in something else as well, some other weapon that the others had yet to prefer. And perhaps convince him that armor was in fact not a negotiation. 

Cardinal is quite relieved for that armor when there’s a bit of ricochet one night. 

 Picking up another assassin child was not in his plans either, he’d like to say. In fact, said child tried to break into his home on a rainy night not unlike how he came into the Waynes’ custody in the first place. So perhaps it really is karma, but nope. Can’t be since Cass is a sweetheart and latches onto Todd, who insists that it’s his job as her big brother to help her learn to read. 

 So another child joins in running across the rooftops each night, their little Shadow following them all. 

That has to be it, right? No more small children insisting on wanting training or trying to bite his ankles or just going vigilante on their own? No such luck and he might let himself scream into his demon-bat’s fur for a few moments because honestly, what is wrong with Gotham?! This kid isn’t even from Gotham- just watched his parents die, in fact they all saw it because the children insisted he try to have fun that wasn’t art or animal care and fuck. The police want to send the small child to juvie, and the kids who are definitely-not-his are all demanding he do something, and ergh. Fine. But that is the last child, he swears. 

 Y’know what, fine Dick, join the nightly runs too he supposes. But he’s cutting back on some of those colors to be safer, little Robin. 

 He said he wasn’t taking in more children, so why are there two very small children at the front door?!

#batman au #batman #dc #dcu #prompts #batfamily #batfam #Reverse Robins Au #But make it Reverse Batfam #Damian may in fact be a test-tube baby of Thomas’ #Not that he was aware of that before his death #Bruce is a newer one who escaped with his half-sister Kate #Or something go wild #They’re very small & Bruce is still terrified of bats #Damian promises he’s not going to be attached but he does #And then he does the blood test and Oop behold ur new baby siblings #All the others are already attached the moment they saw the smaller children #Alfred is already setting up a room #I want to say Damian’s vigilante name is Shrike or Ghoul or Af’aa #Since in some cases snakes were seen as symbols of rebirth & life #But once more go wild #I just realized this is more of a story outline than a prompt lmao

[elementalwriter67]

They Know

Pairing: Klaus x Reader

Word Count: 6322

Please Help me, First Turn, How Bout a Dance, Second Turn and Strained Bonds, A Choice is Made, Happy Birthday, Decade Dance, A Kidnapping, A Death in the Family, It Should Have Been you

A/n: I’m still writing this I just have shit time management skills.

Summary: With the reveal of Klaus still being alive your secret comes to life as certain members of the Mystic Falls gang now learn what you are, and just how similar to the Mikaelson's you really are. 

“Nik?” You breathed out as you stared up at Tyler’s face with wide disbelieving eyes. He looked back at you with a satisfied smile resting on his face that just looked so much like a look that Klaus would give you. 

“Hello, love. It’s not the original model I know, but it’s not a bad spare to use is it?” He commented as he smoothed his hands down his front straightening out his shirt with such a disgusted look on his face that it could only be Klaus inside of him. 

“I… but… but how… who did you even… how? How is this possible?” You shouted at him as you ran your fingers through your hair struggling to make sense of the information that had just been given to you. Struggling to make sense of the fact that Klaus was now technically standing in front of you still very much alive and the fact that even though he was alive that hole inside of you was still there. That it still felt like someone had cut something away from you with a rusty knife despite the fact that he was still standing in front of you for the most part alive and well. It didn’t make sense to you how you could still feel so empty, so broken because mentally you were acknowledging the fact that Klaus is alive, that he’s still technically standing in front of you because it had to be Klaus inside of Tyler’s body why else would he have saved you over Caroline it’s the only thing that made sense. But despite that fact though physically it’s like you’re body wasn’t acknowledging anything. Physically it didn’t matter to you that Klaus was technically standing in front of you, all that mattered to not just you but also your wolf was the fact that even if it is Klaus inside Tyler’s body it’s still Tyler not Klaus. Because physically Klaus still may as well be dead and a pile of ash inside a coffin. Because physically Alaric had killed him and physically he was gone so it didn’t matter to your heart or to your wolf that he was standing in front of you inside Tyler’s body cause it’s still Tyler no matter which way you look at it. You swallowed down the lump that had begun to form in your throat as you shook your head forcing yourself to stop your spiral as you focused on Tyler again. 

“Turns out that Bennett witch is far more loyal and concerned about her friends lives than any of them thought,” He explained. Mentally you thanked Bonnie for caring enough about Elena to have saved Klaus for you as you thought that though something else clicked inside of your head that had you narrowing your eyes at Tyler/Klaus. 

“Wait a second, if Bonnie put you inside Tyler’s body then that means she had to have done it before Alaric killed you so have you been inside of Tyler’s body this whole time?” You asked him your voice terrifyingly calm as you looked at him and he at the very least had the audacity to look sheepish as he nodded his head. 

“Yes,” He stated. You nodded your head slowly as you licked your lips before biting down on your bottom lip and before he could think to do anything you were hitting him on the chest. 

“You fucking asshole! You’ve been inside of Tyler this whole fucking time and you didn’t think to tell me!” You screamed at him your anger suddenly rising up in you again. You took a step forward and shoved him with all of the strength that you possessed. A sense of satisfaction washed over you as you watched him stumble back away from you but you didn’t let him get far as you closed the distance between the two fo you and you hit him again.

“I thought you were dead! I thought you had died you selfish bastard! Why didn’t you come find me? Why didn’t you come and tell any of us! We mourned you! You selfish fucking bastard! Do you have any idea what I went through?” You shouted at him as you went to hit him again but he easily caught your wrist. You growled at him and went to hit him with your other hand but he just as easily caught that one, and you snarled at him as you pulled against his grip trying to break free so you could hit him. 

“That’s enough love, I let you get in a few free hits but you’ll get no more,” He warned you and your sneered at him as you thrashed in his hold. His hands wrapped around your wrists were burning you again and the burning sensation only fueled your anger as you tried to break free of his hold. 

“Let go of me you selfish bastard! You should have told me you were alive! Do you have any idea what I went through? What any of us went through when you died?! It felt like a part of me had been ripped out! Like a part of me had died when I thought you were dead and now you tell me that you’ve been alive this whole fucking time! Let go of me!” You screamed at him as you tried to drop to your knees but he easily caught you his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against Tyler’s chest. You growled low in your throat fighting against the burning sensation in your eyes and his hold as you pushed on his chest with your hands, trying to break out of his hold but he held on strong refusing to let you go. His face softened when he saw the way your frustrated tears fell down your face and he reached up with one hand to wipe the tears away but you jerked your head out of the way. He frowned momentarily but made no attempt to wipe your tears away again instead allowing you to do it on your own as you calmed slightly. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were alive Nik?” You asked him as you looked up at him, your eyes still wet with unshed tears. His arms tightened around your waist as he swallowed and you did your best to ignore the burning sensation that was steadily increasing in intensity the longer he held on to you. 

“Because I had been hoping that the next time I saw you it would be after I’d already been put back into my original body, it was never my intention to hurt you love nor to keep this hidden from you for long but the Bennett witch is far more stubborn than she looks.” He explained and you sniffled the anger that you had felt fizzling out to that nothingness again as you pushed against his chest unable to take the burning anymore. 

“Yeah well you did, you ass,” You grumbled still trying to get out of his hold but he held on to you still refusing to let go of you. “Nik, let go of me, it hurts.” And just like that his hands were off of you and he was taking a step back from you and you breathed out in relief the burning sensation beginning to fade away finally. 

“Love, are you ok?” He asked you as he looked you over taking note of the relief that had seemingly flooded your body when he’d let go of you. The burning sensation that you felt whenever he touched you, and the disgusted shiver that’d raced down your spine when he’d called you love again only served to remind you of the fact that even though it was Klaus inside Tyler’s body it was still ultimately Tyler and not Klaus. 

“Love?” He pressed when you didn’t immediately answer and you took in a deep breathe. 

“I’m fine Nik, I just… I’m glad that you’re still alive even though I’m pissed off at you for not telling me sooner that you were alive,” You told him deciding it would be best to keep the fact that people’s touch had been burning you lately to yourself. Besides none of you had the time right now to figure out why it was suddenly burning you when someone else touched you. A small smile spread across his face as he looked at you and you gave him a little half smile before you let out a small sigh. 

“Ok, so what do we do now?” You asked him and a serious expression spread across his face as he looked at you. 

“Now, I bring you to the Lockwood Cellar where my original body is currently being hidden and then I will go and convince that Bennett witch to put me back in my original body I can’t stay in this one any longer that much is clear.” He stated as he stepped forward to take you in his arms so he could do just that but you took a quick step back your eyes widening. 

“What? No! You’re not leaving me behind, I’m coming with you while you go to face Bonnie!” You shouted at him and he pressed his lips into a hard line annoyance and frustration flickering across his face as he looked at you. 

“No you’re not, your life has already been in jeopardy once already today I won’t be putting at risk again, now come with me.” He made another grab for you but you jumped out of the way with a scuff as you rolled your eyes. 

“No, I’m not. I’m not going to let you serquester me away in some dank and dusty cellar just because you think that I can’t handle Bonnie of all people, so I’m going with you whether you like it or not.” You stated as you crossed your arms over your chest and took another step away from him when he tried to grab you again. You glared at him and he glared right back his eyes full of annoyance and anger as he looked at you. 

“No, you’re not.” He growled out his eyes glowing a faint reddish yellow and you could feel Tyler’s wolf trying to push his aura onto yours trying to force you into submission. But Tyler’s wolf’s aura was weak and pathetic when compared to your own and much more weak and pathetic when compared to Klaus’ natural wolf aura when he isn’t pushing his aura onto other people. 

“Yes I am so either you take me with you or I follow you to wherever Bonnie is after you try and leave me behind, and trust me Nik it’s not going to be a hard thing to do Tyler’s scent is potent and lasting.” You threatened him. Tyler stared down at you still trying to push you into submission using his aura but you pushed back with your own. Determination filled your eyes as you stared at him and there was a very tense silence as the two of you continued to stare at each other. Sighing heavily he reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes and he kept his eyes closed for a solid minute while you smiled up at him already knowing that you had won this argument. 

“You’re not going to give up on this are you?” He asked as he opened his eyes again to look down at you and you nodded your head. 

“No I’m not, besides you’re going to need my help with Bonnie. You may be in Tyler’s body but you’re still Nik on the inside and she still hates your guts,” You stated and he made a face of agreement. He was silent for a moment again as he looked you over before sighing just as heavily as before and reluctantly nodding his head.

“Alright, fine. You can come, but the moment things start to get dangerous I’m getting you out of there, and more importantly the second I’m back in my original body I will be getting you out of there and there will be no complaints about it got it?” He bit out and your grin grew as you nodded your head. 

“Understood now lets go, I’m tired of looking at Tyler’s used q-tip face,” You stated as you clapped your hands together. Tyler chuckled as he shook his head and took two quick strides towards you before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his body. You ignored the way your skin blistered and burned at the contact, and the disgusted shiver that raced down your spine as well. God you couldn’t wait to get Klaus back in his original body to hopefully make this burning sensation go away. 

“You do realize that once we do this, they’ll know about your connection to me and there will be no more hiding it after this,” He reminded you and you sighed softly. 

“Yeah I know, but to be completely honest with you I haven’t been friends with them for a long time now and I think it’s time that they all realize that don’t you?” You asked him as you looked up at him and a wide pride filled smile spread across Tyler’s face as he looked down at you. In that moment you felt a weight lift off your shoulders a sense of freedom spreading throughout you as you realized that now you wouldn’t have to hide from them anymore. You wouldn’t have to be worried about them finding out you were with Klaus or that you were friends with his siblings. You were free now. Free to be friends with who you wished and to do what you wished without worrying about what the others would think or say about your actions. You were free to finally be you and it was the best feeling in the world right now. You grinned back up at Tyler and you felt his grip tighten just a fraction around your waist as he pressed you closer. 

“Then lets go get my original body back,” He stated and in the next instant the world around you was nothing but a blur. You hid your face in Tyler’s chest trying to save yourself from the worst of the disorientation that speeding around like this caused you. It wasn’t until you felt Tyler come to a stand still and his arms slip away from your body that you lifted your head from his chest. Turning around your eyes widened slightly when you were greeted with not only the sight of the Old Witch House basement but also Bonnie and Jeremy standing a few feet away from the two of you. Their eyes were just as wide as yours as they looked between you and Tyler. 

“(Y/N)?” Bonnie murmured as she looked between you and Tyler concern shinning brightly in her eyes. 

“(Y/N)? Tyler? What are you two doing here? And Tyler I thought you were dead?” Jeremy asked the confusion and relief clear on his face as he took a step towards the two of you. Bonnie’s hand shot out grabbing a hold of Jeremy’s shoulder before he could get any further and at the same time Tyler was moving in front of you, shoving you behind him. 

“Jeremy stop, that’s not Tyler,” Bonnie looked away from Jeremy and back towards the two of you. “Not entirely at least.” She finished. Jeremy’s brow furrowed as he looked from Bonnie and towards the two of you and he opened his mouth to say something but Bonnie cut him off. 

“What are you doing here Klaus? Why do you have (Y/N)? What do you plan on doing to her?” Bonnie bit out. You bit the inside of your lip as you watched Tyler take a step towards the two of them. 

“Nothing yet, so long as you do what I tell you too.” He threatened and you glanced from Tyler to Bonnie and Jeremy to see the two of them looking at Tyler with both anger and worry shinning in their eyes. 

“And what is that?” Bonnie asked him and he smirked at the two of them. 

“I want my original body back, now.” He ordered and both Bonnie and Jeremy tensed as they looked at him. 

“What no way!”

“I can’t.” Bonnie and Jeremy said at the same time and you watched as Tyler tensed. You could feel his aura start to push out looking to force someone into submission and you clenched your fists besides you watching him closely waiting for him to launch into an attack. 

“And why not? You had were able to put me in here in the frist place so, surely you should be able to put me back no problem,” He growled out and Bonnie audibly gulped.

“I did but I can’t now I’m not strong enough to do it now,” She said and Tyler let out a low growl as he took a step towards her. Jeremy reacted instantly by taking a step forward putting himself between Bonnie and Tyler not that it would do him much good when facing a hybrid. 

“What do you mean you’re not strong enough to do it?” Tyler growled and you didn’t need to be looking at him to know that his eyes were most likely glowing right now. Bonnie shifted as she looked frantically between you and Tyler like you would be able to actually do something against him.

“I… I upset the spirits by trying to save Elena, I can’t use that kind of magic again it’s too dangerous,” She confessed and you froze. Your eyes widened as you felt your wolf slowly raise it’s head inside of you as you balled your hands into fists, a white hot anger began burning in your chest. 

“What?” Your voice was terrifyingly calm as you stepped out fully from behind Tyler. Both Jeremy and Bonnie shared a confused look before turning those look onto you. You were currently doing everything that you could to hold back your wolf and the anger that was threatening to burn you alive at the very knowledge that there was a chance that Elena wasn’t dead. That the woman who was responsible for all of this, the woman who was at the epicenter of everything bad that had ever happened to you was actually still alive and not dead like she was supposed to fucking be. 

“I,” Bonnie cleared her throat as she shared another look with Jeremy who shrugged his shoulders, “I upset the spirits trying to save Elena, she died with Damon’s blood in her system and she’s going through transition right now.” She looked back at you nervously. You nodded your head slowly as you pursed your lips and ran your tongue along your teeth. Breathing deeply through your nose you did your best to calm the wolf inside of you and your own anger as you felt your nails sharpening into points that bit into your skin. The pain was grounding to a point but it wasn’t enough to distract me from the anger or what Bonnie had just told you. 

“So Elena’s on her way to becoming a vampire?” Your voice was still terrifyingly calm and you took a step forward out of Tyler’s reach when you felt his finger tips graze the back of your arm. Your mind raced with thoughts as you watched Bonnie slowly nod her head. Elena was still alive and even worse she was on her way to becoming a vampire. She was on her way to becoming an all immortal being who couldn’t die and wouldn’t die because Damon and Stefan wouldn’t let her but she was supposed to be dead. She should have died when Rebekah ran her off the fucking road. Her death was the only thing consoling you as you grieved for Nik and yet now here you were learning that she had escaped fucking death yet a-fucking-gain!

“Y-Yes, but she hasn’t drank any blood yet we’re trying to find an-” An animalistic growl cut Bonnie off and her eyes widened in fear as she looked at you. She shifted back half a step her hands rising up like she was trying to defend herself, as Jeremy took another step forward. 

“(Y/N) what’s wrong with you?” Jeremy asked his arm out protectively in front of Bonnie. A humorless laugh escaped you as you shook your head and looked down at the ground the last of your control starting to slip away. 

“Love, you need to calm down,” Tyler’s voice held a hint of warning to it and you stepped towards Jeremy and Bonnie again ignoring Tyler’s words as you looked back up at them. 

“Things would be a lot better for me if your god damned sister would just stay fucking dead!” You shouted and this time Jeremy’s eyes widened the surprise in his eyes quickly being replaced with concern and anger. 

“You don’t mean that (Y/N).” There was a hint of desperation in her tone as she took a step towards you but Jeremy held her back with his arm. Again you let out a humorless laugh that held just a hint of mania to it that had Jeremy forcing Bonnie to take another step back his eyes never leaving you. 

“Hahaha no. No. No, I do, I do mean that. We would all be better off if Elena fucking Gilbert was dead. I mean just think about it, do you know who many people have died because of her? I mean if it wasn’t for her your aunt Jo would still be alive Jeremy, Alaric would still be alive, Caroline’s father would still be alive, Bonnie your mother wouldn’t be a vampire and your grandmother would still be alive, Vicky would still be alive too Jeremy, hell Caroline wouldn’t even be a vampire if it wasn’t for fucking Elena! Everyone would still be alive if it wasn’t for the cancer that is Elena Gilbert! So yes Bonnie I do mean I do wish that Elean would just fucking die already!” You screamed at them your anger finally getting the better of you. Your wolf was practically in control at this point as you growled low in your throat at all of them and they just stood there in shock. 

“(Y/N)... please you have to calm down this-this isn’t you, I don’t know what Klaus has done to you but if you just clam down we can fix this ok?” Bonnie’s voice shook slightly as she spoke and you scuffed as you rolled your eyes. Stopping in your pacing you turned sharply on your heel to face them both a hard look on your face. 

“See that’s where you’re wrong Bonnie, Nik and his family haven’t done anything to me in fact they’ve done more for me than Elena and the rest of you ever have, they’ve been there for me when the rest of you have been too busy dealing with Elena, helping Elena, saving Elena, Elena, Elena, Elena, it’s always been about Elena with you people. But with them,” You gestured to Tyler who was standing behind you never taking your eyes off of the worried/terrified look Bonnie and Jeremy were giving you. 

“With them it’s actually about me, they actually care about me and you know what…” You trailed off as you slowly lowered your arm down a large smile spreading across your face when you saw Bonnie and Jeremy’s eyes widen when they noticed the claws that had extended on your hands. “I think it’s time I repay their kindness and get a little revenge for myself.” Your wolf was now more or less in control at this point as your eyes glowed yellow and before anyone could do anything you charged at Jeremy. Tackling him to the ground you landed a swift punch to his face causing him to stop any attempt at fighting back and allowing you to wrap both your hands around his neck.  

“(Y/N)!” Bonnie shrieked from besides you. You dug your nails into Jeremy’s neck squeezing tightly as you snarled down at him. His hands flew up grabbing at your forearms trying to pull your hands off your neck as he bucked his hips but you didn’t even budge. Your anger and your wolf fueling your strength as you stayed where you were.

“Stay right there Bonnie or I rip little Gilberts throat out right now!” You shouted back at her and you looked away from Jeremy and towards her. She watched you her gaze flicking between you and Jeremy like she was waiting for you to do something, to say that you were joking, but when you didn’t took a step back from you both. 

“(Y/N), please don’t! Let him go! Please!” She pleaded with you. You chuckled as you glanced over at Tyler to see him watching you with interested eyes and then you looked back at Bonnie. Truth be told you wanted to kill Jeremy right here and now, make Elena suffer in the way that you had because you knew that there was no one more important to Elena right now than her precious baby brother, not even the Salvatores. Of course he still had on that stupid ring so you’d have to take it off first before you could finish him off and while the idea of torturing him did sound appealing maybe you could use this all to your advantage to still accomplish your original goal. There was no way that Bonnie was going to buy you as the helpless hostage now, not after what you’d just done, but now you had a new bargaining chip one that was important to both Bonnie and Elena. 

“Maybe, if you do something for me first.” Your voice was calm and held a saccharine sweetness to it as you looked away from Bonnie and back towards Jeremy tilting your head to the side. You loosened your grip just a fraction and he heaved in large gulps of air the color returning to his face.

“What? What do you want?” The desperation was clear in Bonnie’s voice as she looked between the two of you and threw a quick glance towards Tyler. Tyler hadn’t moved from his spot watching you with an increasing amount of interest. This was a side of you that he’d never seen either and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t a bit of a turn on watching you play the villain to people who were once your friends. He would also be lying if he said it wasn’t touching to see the extent that you were willing to go to in order to save him.

“I want you to put him back in his original body.” You stated plainly, gesturing with your head towards Tyler. Bonnie’s jaw clenched, her eyes filling with hatred as she glanced towards Tyler. 

“I already told you that I can’t, I don’t have the strength to do it,” She stated. You nodded your head slowly as you began to squeeze Jeremy’s neck again cutting off his oxygen and digging the points of your claws into his neck. 

“Well then, I highly suggest you find the strength to do so then because I have no problems killing Jeremy over and over again until you do find that strength, he is wearing the family ring after all.” Blood had started to pool around your claws, dripping down the curve of Jeremy’s neck as you added more pressure. 

“(Y/N)! You don’t mean that! You can’t kill him!’ She shouted at you and you would have chuckled but Tyler beat you too it. Glancing away from Jeremy’s quickly reddening face and towards Tyler you saw him now leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and a smug look on his face. 

“Oh but I think she can I think she fully intends on doing so. So, I would suggest you do as she says and what was it? Oh yes find the strength,” He commented and you returned the smirk that he was giving the both of you. 

“I’d hurry up if I were you too Bonnie, Jeremy doesn’t look like he’s got a lot of air left in him.” You looked back down at Jeremy giving him a mock concerned look when you saw just how red his face had become. You loosened your grip on his neck just slightly and you felt as he started to breathe in air. Before he could take in a full breath or even start sucking down air you squeezed down again, pushing your nails further into his neck causing him make a pained sound. His nails clawed at you forearms trying to pull them off but you just smirked back at him his attempt doing little to move you. 

“Ok! Ok! I’ll try! Please! Please just stop!” Bonnie shouted at you and you retracted your claws as you looked up at her again tilting your head to the side. 

“I don’t see you trying,” You pointed out. She huffed at you and raised her hands up in front of her with her palms up and her eyes closed. Once she’d assumed the position you loosed your grip on Jeremy’s neck allowing him to breathe while Bonnie focused on casting the spell. It didn’t last long though because soon Bonnie’s face was twisting up in frustration, and she let out an annoyed huff dropping her hands to the side. 

“I can’t do it. I told you I’m too weak, you’re just going to have to wait until I’m stronger,” She stated. A snarl rumbled out of your chest and your lips curled back to reveal your fangs as your grip on Jeremy’s neck tightened once again. 

“Try. Again.” Your voice was barely more than a growl, and you were sure that had it been any closer to a full moon you would have turned right there. 

“She… said she… can’t!” Jeremy chocked out from underneath you. You turned your snarl to him, lifting his head up you slammed it back down on the ground not enough to knock him out but enough to hurt.

“Shut up!” You shouted at him never taking your eyes off of Bonnie. “Try. Again.” You ordered her. Bonnie snapped her eyes closed and her hands shook as she raised them palm up and you loosened your grip on Jeremy’s neck again watching her closely. Her face was screwed up in concentration and her mouth moved silently muttering Latin under her breath. The more it failed to work the more frustrated she seemed to become and the more frustrated she became the more you squeezed Jeremy’s neck. 

“I can’t! I can’t do it,” She shouted as she threw her hands down and opened her eyes again. “I already told you I upset the spirits enough as it is earlier, they won’t let me won’t let me access my magic for a spell this dark.” She whined again her wide eyes darting between you and Jeremy. 

“Alright then,” You shrugged your shoulders. “Then I guess Jeremy dies.” Your claws sharpened and you dug them into Jeremy’s neck feeling around for his trachea so you could rip it out in front of her. 

“I really hope you’re wearing that ring of yours Jeremy or, hehe oops,” You smirked down at him with a shrug of your shoulders. 

“No! (Y/N) you can’t!” Bonnie shouted. Almost immediately after that you felt a pain surrounding your brain almost like your head was caught in a vice grip. Your grip around Jeremy’s neck loosened just a fraction as you winced feeling the pressure of the ancestors squeezing at your brain with their combined strength trying to get you to surrender, to stop what you were doing. But you wouldn’t stop, you didn’t want to stop, you wanted either Klaus back in his original body or you wanted revenge against Elena and you didn’t care who you had to kill to get what you wanted. 

“Tell your ancestor dogs to back off Bonnie or else I’ll end their line here and now like it was supposed to end that night I activated my little curse,” You bit out through clenched teeth and when the pain didn’t immediately stop you spoke up again. “I will make it painful ancestors.” You added on. The ancestors held on for a moment longer increasing the pain for a moment before letting you go and disappearing. 

When the pain stayed away for a few seconds you turned your attention back to Bonnie: “Do the spell now Bonnie.” You ordered. 

Bonnie chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before taking a deep breath and raising up her hands again as she began chanting under her breath. The air around you crackled with power and goosebumps broke out along your skin as you finally let go of Jeremy’s neck and sat back. You looked behind you when you heard Tyler groan and a satisfied smile spread across your face as he fell to his knees reaching up and grabbing at his head. He continued to groan for a few moments while you climbed off of Jeremy and walked over to the stairs all while Bonnie continued chanting. The sensation of power in the air had faded away and yet Bonnie continued to chant from behind you, though you couldn’t find it in you to care too much. You were much to focused on Tyler and making sure that it was just Tyler in that body and not both him and Klaus. 

“Bo… Bonnie!” Jeremy’s voice was scratchy and hoarse as she shouted for Bonnie. 

“Tyler?” You asked him as he lifted his head out of his hands and looked up at you confused.

“(Y/N)? Jeremy? Bonnie? What the hell is going on? How did I get here? Where’s Caroline?” He asked but you didn’t wait around to see what would happen next. A large smile spread across your face as you raced up the stairs trying to get out of the house and to the Lockwood cellar as fast as you could. You made up only a few steps though when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around you waist and in the next second the world was nothing but a blur around you. 

That as well only lasted a few seconds as in the next few moments you were standing with your back pressed against the tree staring into the eyes of a man you thought you would never see again. Your eyes searched Klaus’ face that emptiness you’d been feeling seemingly disappeared leaving you feeling light and full and oh so happy. Tears stung at your eyes, the frayed and broken pieces of yourself coming back together as you reached up and grabbed a hold of Klaus’ face. Holding his face in your hands made this feel all that much more real and you it had you doing the only thing you could think to do. You pulled his face down to yours crashing your lips onto his, it took him a few seconds before he finally caught on to what was happening and hurried to kiss you back. The kiss was anything but what you’d imagined your first kiss with him would be like. You’d imagined it being sweet and gentle with just a hint of possessiveness but this, this kis was anything but that. This kiss was all consuming, it took over your senses drowning you in his scent and in his touch, filling you with a warmth you’d never experienced before as the two of you poured all of your unsaid emotions into that kiss. As you poured all of your love, your anger, your frustration, your sadness, your hurt, into the kiss. It wasn’t until your lungs were burning the desire to breath becoming too much that you finally broke the kiss. Pushing at Klaus’ chest you held him there as you stared up into his nearly black eyes while he smirked down at you. 

“That was quiet the hello kiss, love,” He murmured his thumbs rubbing at your waist through your shirt, though when his hands had gotten to your hips you hadn’t the faintest idea. 

“If you… ever… ever do that… again I’ll… fucking kill you… immortal hybrid… or not… got it?” You heaved out in between gasps of air. Klaus chuckled as he reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Instinctively you tilted your head into his touch. 

“Duly noted love, though in my defense the body swap was the Bennett witch’s idea not mine,” He pointed out and you rolled your eyes. 

“I don’t care whose idea it was, you pull a stunt like that again without telling me and I’ll kill you. Now kiss me again and then you’re going to take me back to the mansion before Rebekah burns this entire town to the ground.” You ordered him and he smirked down at you his hand coming to cup your cheek. 

“Don’t get cocky now love, you’re not the one in charge here.” He teased you and you scuffed at him.

“Says you,” You teased right back and he grinned before pressing his lips against yours. This time the kiss was the sweet, passionate one that you’d been thinking would be your first kiss with him, and though it was short it was just as fantastic as you was just as fantastic as the other one. 

“Hold on love.” He scooped you up bridal style, cradling you against his chest and he waited until your arms were wrapped around his neck before he took off running towards the mansion. 

Tag List: @clea-nightingale @reclusive-chicken-nugget @valsworldofcreativity @thatweirdoleigh @hallothankmas @the-weasley-slut @goldenthena @byunniebaekhyunnie @agentstarkid @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @madamerubrum @mineymak712 @elaacreditava @missryerye @smailaway @bellamy1998 @lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker @deirdre-belle @1-imaginary-girl @gnarly272  @spunky-89 @theogstuffedanimal @dustyinkpages @ayuoudro @spacesugasworld @devotedlycrookeddonut @solarbxby @colbysbrocks @aloneatpeace @enderqueen203 @kaitebugg03  @lustfulpjm @dustyinkpages @ayuoudro

#Klaus mikaeslon x you #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x female reader #klaus mikaelson x y/n #niklaus mikaelson x reader #x reader #x female reader #bonnie bennett x reader #jeremy gilbert x reader #tyler x reader #klaus x you #klaus x reader #klaus x female reader #niklaus mikaelson x female reader #klaus mikealson imagine #niklaus mikaelson imagine #the originals imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries x reader #the originals x reader #snapshots #niklaus mikaelson x you #niklaus x you #niklaus x reader #niklaus x female reader #reader insert #female reader insert

[greypetrel]

Fanfic Writer Questions

Tagged by @melisusthewee, and at least another person. I'm sorry if I ignored the tag, I was away and it's a busy period, let me know ;_;

Tagging forward: @ndostairlyrium @shivunin @inquisimer and YOU who are reading and would like to do it!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 12, right now.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 497,183 ... I'm chatty.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Dragon Age, and a crossover with LOTR/The Silmarillion.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Home Was Never on the Ground (long fic, concluded, it's anthological and mainly me filling blanks in DAI as inspiration stroke)

She of Many Names (ongoing, a LOTR/Dragon Age crossover. A follower on Instagram asked me if Aisling was Sauron, the idea made me laugh so much that my mind took fire.)

Saturday Prompts (a collection of prompts I posted here. I never uploaded every one of them, oops)

Death and All of Its Friends (ongoing, a DA2 collection)

The Night Before First Day (Two chapters, concluded. One it's in rhyme and illustrated. Aisling taught her daughter that the Dreadwolf is Santa out of spite. Solas tries to disapprove.)

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes, always!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I do love angst, but I don't like angsty endings all that much ahahahahah. I think the one that gets closer, in a bitter-sweet way, is One for the Road. Call me a sucker for rare-pairs, this was also prompted here and my brain took fire (LavellanxFenris)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? The Night Before First Day. Listen I'm not a Christmas person, I turn into a seasonal depressed Grinch at Christmas, living in a catholic country doesn't help, and that is my way of giving myself some joy.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not that I know of.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Not any that I publish.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Yes I do. She of Many Names is a Dragon Age and LOTR crossover. I love it dearly, I'm slow to update it because I have the greatest love for Tolkien (with all his flaws, but my brain rewired when I saw the first movie, and the book has been my entire personality for two years. I wouldn't be the same person without it) and I do care of rendering it as I want.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? ... Not that I know of? I hope not, ahahahah :"D

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? If you consider that English is not my first language, all my fics are translated? xD Other than that, no.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but I'd love to.

14. What's your all time favorite ship? EowynxFaramir, hands down. Out of pure lenght. Maybe LeiaxHan Solo (my parents are both nerds, I think my mom made me watch Star Wars the first time... I don't remember, the vhs were always around in the house. I was very, very little.)(we don't talk about the sequel trilogy.)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I tried to write a third chapter for the aforementioned One for the Road... But it ends up in a love triangle and I don't like love triangles that aren't a poly relationship. So, it's sitting in my folder and I'll never finish it. I was considering ditching the second chapter and rewrite it as a "Aisling as a companion in DA2" fic... But MEH.

16. What are your writing strengths? I think dialogue. I am trained as a comic artist, which means that the writing parts that get polished are dialogue. I have much more experience with that. ... I am also terrible at judging my own work in a positive way, tho, so you tell me.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? English not being my first language and leading to mis-spellings. Other than that... I started writing fanfiction after YEARS of not writing anything in prose that wasn't screenplays for comics (which follows different rules). Since I stopped because of being hurt by it, I went on to it by not planning stuff.

I'm rusty with prose, and my retelling -the first thing I tackled- clearly had little planning ahead.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? It's a no, for me, unless you specifically wants your audience not to understand what's being said and create a sense of isolation and of not knowing what's going on. A sentence here and there with a translation is fine. But if it's something long... You want the reader to understand well. Italicized text it is.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I wouldn't call it a fandom, but: Greek Mythology. I drew a parody comic of the Iliad in my first high school year, alongside friends. It had been so fun. I also wrote, still in high school, something heavily inspired by Eragon, which only my friends had the pleasure of reading. (I'm only saying it involved my now most hated trope: THE SECRET TWIN.)

20. Favorite fic you've written? The next one.

I'm very invested in Ashes and Sparks, aka the Dreadwolf AU. I'm putting ideas in it and going fully canon divergent and writing it as I would like Inquisition to have gone. No Corypheus, more crazy tevinters, and the focus ON FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.

In a modern setting because yes.

It's also tackling something I absolutely hate in fiction when it's done wrongly, which is time travel, and I'm sweating and hoping I'll do it with logic. It's something niche and not so focused on a single ship, so probably it'll interest only me, but I'm happily writing and trying to contain myself from posting chapters of more than 10k.

Blank Form Under the Cut

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favorite fic you've written?

#fanfic writer questions #tagged petrel #fanfiction #ao3 #writing petrel #mel you're rude to force me to say nice things about myself #buuuuuuh! *gives biscuits*

[sleepdepravity]

Do u know any good mob psycho 100 fanfics?? Or authors??

I actually don’t read many other fanfics or follow many authors so I don’t know how much I can help. Honestly after finishing mob psycho, I just asked my sister if she had recs and read those. There were a couple I saw in passing on tumblr and read too, but very few. The ones from my sister I feel like most people would have read but I suppose I will list them anyways.

Out of Body by bobmoss. Serirei, it’s about Serizawa starting to get regular panic attacks, which causes his soul to leave his body. There’s a possession scene in here that I enjoy because I think possession is fun.

tomorrow isn’t always another day by suitablyskippy. A time loop one shot fic very much more lighthearted than my death loop fare, I enjoyed it a lot. I feel like reading this affected the way I write some of Reigen’s dialogue.

Surface Tension by crookedturtle and fend. Horror serirei. I love the horror a lot, also the ironic curses. I think the logistics of the curses and everything was just so good, it’s one of those things where I wish I could have written the horrible office building and stuff.

What We Make by crookedturtle. Reigen and Tome get kidnapped. It’s a very dire situation and reigen gets fucking wrecked. This fic has so much Reigen cleverness and logistics that I enjoy. I read this fic before I ever wrote anything with Tome and I can definitely tell you that it influenced how I wrote Tome.

Dead Weight by crownorclover. Post-reigen manga fic, reigen visiting Serizawa in the hospital right after dealing with Rusty. A lot of fun banter, a lot of serious talk. There were quite a few lines in the narration that I was like “oh that’s so charming, I wish I wrote that”

Fly in the Tomb by ChubbyHornedEquine. Pre-claw Serizawa oneshot. This one is fun because I sent a song to my pal and just said “Serizawa” and ae proceeded to obsess over it and wrote out this oneshot. It puts a lot into very few words, very economical. I think it gives a good claustrophobic atmosphere, and I also love a good beginning and ending parallelism and subtle changes in word meaning. (The song is Fly in My Room by Kerrin Connolly.)

That’s all that comes to mind. (Besides my own fic of course :3c)

#ask #anonymous #mob psycho 100 #fanfiction

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

Chapter XVI: You’ll Cry But You’ll Never Fall

nav | masterlist | playlist | pinboard | chapter XV | get on the taglist!

summary: The secret hometown Corroded Coffin / Death Dance Approximately show does not go as smoothly as any of you would like, and the memories of Hawkins infiltrate your memories again.

tags: ANGST (more than usual?), violence, swearing, excessive alcohol consumption, fighting/arguing, trauma talk, overall just a very sad chapter imo but i’m also very proud of it.

a/n: this is my lil honor to sinéad, my heart goes out to her family and i’m so very upset to hear of her passing. This chapter is also one of the heavier ones, please feel free to skip it or read it slowly if it feels like too much. thank you guys for your continued support as always. ALSO, im seeing a lot of blog name changes and deactivations, so please let me know if you aren’t getting notifications and want to! i’ll see to fixing the taglist for next time 🩷 Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. Reblog to support the author!

—

October 1987

“Can I show you something?” Eddie stumbles into bed, his Warlock in his grip, a bowl of chips in the other hand.

“Of course, my love.” You pluck a chip from the bowl, shifting your body to face Eddie as he sits beside you. His fingers dance across the chords, and you sway as he begins to sing. When he finishes, you look at him in awe. “Is it done?”

He nods, eagerly. He’s been fighting with this song for almost a year, and you can tell he’s so proud of himself. It makes what you’re about to say that much more difficult. “May I?” You extend your hand, and he nods, handing you his guitar. You know the chords well enough by now to play it, and you start in with your eyes closed. “What if, instead of a major chord, you used a minor?” You play it again with your revision. “And what if, instead of Don’t let go, you could say don’t let go of me?” You sing the line for him, and watch as his face contorts, brows furrowing, lips pursed. You stop. “Or not, it’s beautiful regardless.” Suddenly, you’re embarrassed for even suggesting it.

“No, it’s not that. I’m just mad you made it so much better in two seconds.” He scoffs, and you can tell he’s upset.

“I didn’t mean to overstep, ali know this song has been kicking your ass, as just thought-“

“It’s fine, Y/n, really. Forget about it.” He takes his guitar from you, and leans it on his side table. Before you can say anything else, he’s turned the light off and pulled the covers up to his chin. no goodnight kiss, No I love yous exchanged.

-

Present Day

Eddie’s POV

He makes his way back to the dressing room, which is more of a closet behind the curtains of the small stage. He’s comfortably drunk, aching still with the words he’d overheard earlier as Sinéad O’Connor’s Drink Before The War floats through the speakers. You and Steve stand backstage, him adjusting your mike pack while you fiddle with your in-ear, the rest of your band tightening their instruments or twirling their drumsticks while you talk amongst yourselves. “Eddie!” You call, before he can open the door and slide by you, unnoticed. “C’mere a sec?”

Begrudgingly, he approaches you. You’re draped in a black skirt that sweeps the floor, and a black velvet tank top that shimmers when the light hits it. “Lilith had an idea, and I know this is so last minute, but what would you think about doing the song we wrote together? I know it’s probably too rusty for you, but I figure it could be a treat, for the little hometown show? It’s alright though, if you don’t wanna.” You shrug, but something in your eyes pleads with him.

“Sure, yeah.” He says coolly, confused by the question. Why would you want to, after what you’d said? “Where should we put it, in the set?”

“Was thinking, at the end of DDA’s, we have less time, but we have the room for it. D’you still know the chords?”

He fights off a humorless laugh. “‘Course I do. Just gimme the signal, and I’ll be right out. But we don’t have lyrics.” You nod, beaming, “Oh, but I do! I’ve been mulling them over, I hope that’s alright?”

The panic is palpable, he has no idea what he’s in for. “‘Course it is. See you out there.” He gives a curt nod before turning away, entering his dressing room without another word.

-

Your POV

“He’s being weird, right?” You turn to Steve, who’s just finished fluffing your hair out into the disheveled, rocker look you love.

“Of course he is, he’s Eddie. Now, get out there! They’re excited to have you back home.” He’s right, you can hear the restless crowd growing louder, more excited as your set time inches closer. “DDA! DDA!” The chant crescendos, and the house lights dim.

“Break a leg,” Steve plants a kiss on the crown of your head, and you wrap your arms around him. “and kick some ass.”

You turn to your band for the huddle, the pre show ritual, and let Sylvie lead the way to the stage. The crowd erupts as you take your marks, pressing out across a stage half the size of what you’ve grown used to this past month.

“HAWKINS, INDIANA!” You exclaim, drowned out by the audience as Lilith starts a drumroll. “We are Death Dance Approximately, from right down the street, are you ready to fucking PARTY?!” The response is a cacophony of screaming, just the way you like it.

“One, two, three, four,” Lilith taps her sticks together, and you jump into your first song. You open with Indiana, an ode to home, and you feel the weight float from your shoulders. The house is packed, and you recognize a face every few minutes, whether from school or just around town. Your friends are occupying a table on the side of the stage, and you can barely make out their faces. They dance and sing along though, and at some points you’re sure you hear Max’s whistle. It’s electric, rewarding to have people there for you, that know your songs, love your band. It reminds you why you started in the first place, despite the pain you’d endured on your way up.

-

“Thank you for coming out tonight, Hawkins! We have one more song for you before we introduce our friends in Corroded Coffin. This was a last minute decision, but before we play the song we know you’re all waiting for, could you please give a warm, freaky welcome to Coffin’s very own EDDIE MUNSON!” No amount of preparation prepares you for the screaming. The building must be shaking with the vibrations as Eddie saunters onto the stage, spotlight shining directly on him. His acoustic guitar is slung over his shoulder, and he wears a tattered DDA shirt and torn up black jeans, his converse laced tightly on his feet. He waves to the crowd, squinting into the bright stage lights. He wobbles slightly, and you know he’s drunk, but you have faith in his performance ability regardless.

“This song is one I wrote with Eddie years ago, and this is the first time we’re ever performing it. Please forgive us if it’s not so polished, but revel in the fact that you’re the first crowd that gets to hear it!” The audience responds with applause, and you glance at Eddie. His eyes are glued to the floor, not looking at you at all, so you turn back to Lilith who counts you off.

Eddie starts in with the opening melody, much softer than any song CC has put out, but still with the hard bite that persists within their catalog. You begin the ad libs, ones you love to play with live that can’t be recreated in the studio. The crowd sways with you, and glimmers from their lighters each the sky as you start the first verse.

“I’ve seen my share of gore and pain, enough to last my lifetime. / I wonder how you’re coping now that you’ve got that hurt inside. / I’d ask you how you’re doin’, but I know that you’d just lie, / and I’d bother you to open up, / if I thought it worth our time. / But you’ve been off drinkin’ down the hurt and pain we’d felt, / and I'm stuck circling the drain alone, keeling over as I melt.

Six years of shit, and dirt, and blood / caked under our fingernails, / and all I've got to show for it are these twisted, evil tales. / So all I ask is don’t let go, / don’t let go of me, / and all I want is for you to know / that you’re still the one for me.”

You don’t open your eyes the whole time, and you know you’re in for it when you do. You’re sure he’s caught on by now, the lyrics far from subtle, but still you can’t bring yourself to watch his reaction to them, instead focusing on your voice not breaking as he plucks the strings only three feet away. When the song ends, the crowd shrieks and it’s all you can hear. Eddie waves to the kids at the barricade, mouthing thank yous as they clap for him before approaching you. You entwine your fingers with his, swinging both your arms first into the air, then down to the floor as you both bow. He squeezes your hand before letting go, walking offstage without a word to the audience.

“Eddie Munson, everyone! I know you’re all very excited to see Corroded Coffin tonight, but we got one more song for ya, is that alright?” When the whooping fizzles out, Sylvie strums the opening to Pretty Boy, and it gets loud again. “This song is for, well, if you know you know. It’s called Pretty Boy!”

-

Eddie’s POV

He makes a beeline for the mini fridge, cracking open a beer before even saying a word to his bandmates. “You good?” Gareth raises an eyebrow, watching his bandmate down the bottle without a breath in between.

Eddie belches before snapping, “What makes you think I’m anything but perfectly fine?”

“Oh, just, everything.” He mumbles, but Eddie hears him anyway.

“What’s up with you, man? Aren’t you two on good terms now?” Jeff asks, plopping down on the arm of the sofa next to Eddie, who’s sprawled in the middle like an old rag doll.

“I have no idea. Thought we were, but I overheard them talking earlier and-“

Jeff interrupts, “Overheard? How much did you actually hear? Ever wonder if eavesdropping is maybe not the most reliable source of information?”

Eddie glares at his friend, who only rolls his eyes. “I know what I heard.”

“Whatever, man. We have a show to do, so get your shit together.” Jeff heaves himself off the couch again, and Gareth follows, clicking his drumsticks.

-

“Good evening, Hawkins! We are Corroded Coffin, and we’re here to fuck shut up!” Gareth shouts into his mic and is met with an eruption of screaming fans. Eddie feels the alcohol coursing through his bloodstream as he strums a chord, amping up the tension before the drummer counts them off. They break into the first song. His vision’s fuzzy, but he can still sense you, standing right up front, mouthing the words and nodding your head to the beat. He can’t let himself think too much about it, already distracted by your earlier conversation with your band. Because of him. You’re having nightmares again, unable to rest, because of him. The words play on a broken record, spinning out of control inside his brain, and he barely realizes he’s broken a string from strumming too hard.

When they end the song, a crew member cloaked in black rushes onstage to help him fix it while Eddie stands there, useless and shaking with a feeling he can’t place. Not exactly anger, nor anxiety, but a sinister lingering in his gut. The crew member leaves, Eddie’s string replaced, and Gareth waits for a cue to continue. “Apologies, my dear friends, for the technical difficulties. Thanks for coming out to see us on such short notice. This song is for anyone that’s ever felt like a freak in their own skin.” Eddie backs away from the mic as Jeff starts in on their next song, Eddie’s voice barely a part of him as he sings. His fingers are starting to bleed from playing so hard, something he hasn’t done since he started playing guitar more seriously.

Eddie fades in and out during the set, on autopilot, his usual lighthearted banter with the crowd now awkward and empty. He feels nothing when the lighters fly into the air during Wiped Clean, or even when he looks right at you when he sings Sweetheart. It feels like something in him has died, leaving a gaping wound. Being home was like ripping that wound right open.

-

Your POV

He’s looking right through me. There is absolutely no feeling behind Eddie’s performance tonight as he drags himself through the set. He’s usually bouncing off the walls, swinging his guitar around or sticking his tongue out while he shreds, but tonight he stands there, his head barely even nodding, let alone banging and thrashing like he usually does.

Around you, there’s a sense of panic. These people came for him, they know what he’s about, and this was likely the last thing they’d expected of a hometown show. Their dancing is tainted with confusion, worrying for the man on stage in front of you. You look to where your friends stand, cautiously swaying and nodding along to the music, glancing back to you every so often with a raised or furrowed brow. Dustin, though, meets your eyes and immediately starts pushing his way through the crowd.

“Move, please! Friend of the band coming through! Eddie Munson’s protege! Out of the way, holy shit!” He makes it to you relatively unfazed, and you grab his outstretched hand to pull him up to the barricade. “What the hell is going on?” Dustin shouts, and you shake your head.

“I have no idea, he’s been weird all day.”

“He drinking?”

“Dustin, he’s an adult!”

“That’s not what I mean! Is he, like, drinking drinking?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

He shoots you a baffled, disappointed look, and you get it. Loud and clear. This, whatever Eddie’s doing right now, is somehow related to you. “I am not responsible for his behavior!”

“No, of course not! But you might be able to explain it!”

You think, hard. You were fine this morning, waking up together, even being mistaken for reconciled lovers. “I really don’t know, Dustin!”

“Shit, okay. I’ll get back to you.” He turns around, about to disappear again, but you grab him. He meets your eyes, reading you in such a way that you probably won’t even have to ask him. But you do, for good measure.

“Make sure he’s okay, yeah?”

“Of course.” And you let him go. You turn back to the stage, where Eddie switches his beautiful electric guitar for his well worn acoustic. You feel a smile pull at your lips, knowing the acoustic rarely makes an appearance at regular Coffin shows.

“Hawkins, you’re so very special to me,” He starts, tuning his guitar as he slurs. Shit. “So I feel I should show you, just how special. We don’t usually do this, but because we’re home, I feel it’s only mandatory. I’m gonna play you guys a deep cut, one we never released and probably never will.” No. No fucking way. “Now, even the guys didn’t know I planned to do this, shit, even I didn’t til halfway through the set. That set sucked though, am I right? I mean, the guys were wonderful as always, but I was god awful, and for that I am truly sorry. It’s hard to put the energy into this town when it sucked the life out of me for so long. No offense, I do love that you’re all here.” Jeff and Gareth exchange looks of befuddlement. They have no idea what’s going on, but it’s starting to click in your head.

“This song is called Salt The Earth.” Your jaw drops to the floor. He’s never shown that song to anyone else, that you know of, because he hated it that much. It was a battle he’d been fighting since you’ve known him, one even you weren’t sure he’d win. But here it is, in the same town he’d written the song, giving it a live debut.

He plays to an almost silent, completely entranced room of people, staring straight ahead at the glowing exit signs, past you and all of his friends.

“Burnt the whole place down, demolished holy ground, packed your bags, didn’t look back, salted earth on your way out. / Fires bright, smoke in my eyes, I never even heard your goodbyes. / When you leave you’re supposed to salt the earth, you’re supposed to cut the rope. / But I'm still here, tied to this post, while you’re out somewhere laughing.”

There’s a bite, a sting behind your forehead, as the lyrics swim through your head. You haven’t heard the song in years, and it was barely passable as a song, but somehow, the lyrics are still there, stored in the depths of your memory, and only yours. As far as you can tell, scanning the faces of your friends and colleagues, you’re the only one that knows the words. Some of them have changed, he’s vastly developed as a songwriter in the last couple years, but it also gives you waves of nostalgia. To you, this song is an old friend, one constantly looping in the background of your life with Eddie. Selfishly, you wonder if your life with him, the ending of it especially, contributed to the song’s growth.

His voice is low, gravelly to match the somber tune. His eyes close as he further loses himself, wincing as he fingers the chords, breaking open fresh wounds on his fingers. Every so often, when you really let yourself watch Eddie perform, you’re hypnotized by his presence. You forget where you are, who you’re with, as everything falls away except for him, on display in front of you, for you, the only other person in the room.

The song comes to an end, Eddie practically playing himself out, still strumming as he leaves the stage. It takes a second, but the room eventually explodes with applause, chants of EDDIE! EDDIE! filling the club to its ceiling. After a good amount of teasing, the house lights dim again and the band take their spots once more, Eddie front and center with his Warlock strapped back in place.

“You didn’t think we were done yet, did ya, Hawkins?!” It’s as if he’s been struck with new life, rejuvenated after playing that song, defeating that looming enemy he’s had for so long. “We have one more song for you, and I know you know it. Thanks so much for comin’ out, tip your bartender!” They start in on The Crawl, the crowd going wild for one of their biggest songs. A pit opens in the middle, close to where you stand with your friends, and you feel at ease for the first time all night. Despite Eddie’s weird behavior, things have been going well. You desperately wish the other shoe would drop, but at the same time want for once for there not to be a second shoe. There’s always a second shoe.

-

Eddie’s POV

The tension still lingers in his shoulders, but he feels lighter. Salt The Earth had been a big, angry cloud threatening to rain down on him for years, and it’s like he’s finally watching the sky clear. Or, he would have been, if not for the much darker, much angrier cloud right behind it. This one holds what you’d said earlier, behind closed doors, and not for him to hear.

He stomps offstage, t shirt in one hand, guitar clutched in the other, avoiding eye contact with his friends and bandmates as he looks for solace: the bar. He’s already very, very drunk, and he knows it’s not smart, but it’s all he can think to do to drown his memory of earlier, and his shame about the way he’s reacting. What a Catch 22, to need to drink not to feel shame, and to feel shame for drinking.

“Hey, is he-?” Your voice floats into his ears, warm and concerned as you ask Steve where he is. “Never mind.” And suddenly, you’re next to him, leaning on the counter, not saying a word as he gulps down his whiskey. “Hey.”

He doesn’t look at you, barely even acknowledges your presence. He grunts, “Hmph.” in response.

“What’s going on?”

He won’t respond. He won’t open up to you again, he can tell it’s hurting you.

“Eddie, would you look at me, please?” He hears it, the slight crack, whether it’s from performing or from holding back tears he’s not sure, but it works in your favor.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” His words come out jumbled, slippery in his mouth against the liquor.

“There must be, if you’re drinking like this. What’s bothering you?” He chances a look at you, and wishes he hadn’t. You look up at him with concern, eyes darting back and forth between his, trying to read him, dig into him even deeper.

“Nothin’, just thirsty.” He won’t. He can’t tell you he heard you, it would only upset you, and it’s not fair that he’s heard you in the first place.

“Ed, you know you can tell me anything.”

“Ever think I don’t want to?” He snaps, and you jolt. He regrets it, it’s not your fault he feels this way, not on purpose, but he’s infuriated by your care for him.

“Okay,” you start, voice low, “you don’t have to. But I’m around, y’know, if you change your mind.” You almost place your hand on his shoulder, a gesture of consolation, but he leans away, and you tighten your lips to keep them from quivering. “See you later.” And you’re gone.

“Another round, barkeep.”

-

Your POV

“Well?” Steve meets you in front of the buses, overseeing the crew as they load the trailer. “How is he?”

You all but break down at the question. “I don’t know, I really don’t.” You don’t know why it hurts so much, he doesn’t owe you anything. “He won’t talk to me, but something is most definitely wrong. Whatever happened, I don’t have a single inkling of what it is.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Steve is gentle, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you let a single tear slide down your cheek.

“You’ve done so much for me already, this whole time. I can’t keep letting you fight my battles for me. I’ll figure this one out. On my own.” He nods, giving you a reassuring squeeze before letting you by, into the bus. You’re the first one in, the rest of your band enjoying their night with each other, and you’re in here sulking. “Fuck it.” You mumble, exiting the bus again. “Let’s go enjoy our night home, huh?” You wipe your face hurriedly, much to Steve’s confusion, but you don’t let him ask more questions. “C'mon! Let’s go dance and drink and be fuckin’ merry!”

He laughs, but it’s a nervous giggle. “Okay, okay! Don’t get all weird on me, though.”

“Please, Steve, you know I can’t promise that.”

-

The house music is blaring Soundgarden’s Jesus Christ Pose as lingering fans drink and dance, trying to catch glimpses of band members in the makeshift VIP sections. You catch your friends in the far corner, and they wave you over when they see you. “Thought you’d gone off with your boy!” Max teases as you sit next to her in the booth, and you try not to make your irritation known.

“He’s probably off somewhere, brooding.” Robin intercepts, a smirk on her face.

“That’s all he seems to do now. Any chance we’ll see him again before we leave?” Mike quips, and El giggles.

“And if we do? Chances are we’d say something to piss him off.” Lucas adds, slumping in his chair.

Dustin mumbles something only meant for you, but even you can’t hear him. “What was that?” When his eyes meet yours he looks away, and before you can ask again he’s sliding out of his seat, off into the darkness of the club. “What’s his deal?” You ask the group.

“Guess he’s not in the mood to rag on Eddie? Strange, he’s usually the one to start the rolling of the punches.” Lucas shrugs, and you sigh.

“Should I go apologize?”

Will shakes his head. “He’ll get over it, hang out with us!”

-

Eddie’s POV

“What the hell, man?” The voice next to him is unmistakable, even in his current state of intoxication. “Why are you hiding from everyone? We haven’t seen you in two years, more than that, and you’re avoiding us!” Dustin yanks the drink out of Eddie’s reach. “Fucking say something!”

Dustin’s anger startles him. “Whoa, big guy, hang on,”

“I have been hanging on, all week. You were fine, almost normal, and tonight you go on stage acting like a zombie, and you don’t come say hi to anyone after. I'm done waiting around for my friend to reappear. What is your damage?”

Eddie looks at Dustin, his sweet face and big eyes as he tries to keep his composure. “Look, man, it’s adult stuff, something you’re not gonna understand.”

“Would you drop that? I’m 20 years old, Eddie, as much as you don’t wanna admit it to yourself. Is it Y/n? Cmon, give me something to work with. Pretend we’re friends again.”

It takes a second, but Eddie catches the last part. “We are friends, Dustin, ‘course we are. I didn’t wanna burden you, or any of the guys with it. But I guess I owe you, y’know, for not giving up on me.”

Dustin crosses his arms. “Yeah, you do.”

“Alright, fine. Let’s go talk.” Eddie throws an arm around the boy, and they exit the club.

-

“What do you wanna know?” Eddie asks, a cigarette pressed between his lips.

“Everything. What happened with Y/n? Why’d you disappear? Why didn’t you call?” Eddie can tell Dustin’s trying to stay composed. He’s a strong kid, but this is even harder for him than the rest of the party. Eddie owes him an explanation, and they both know it.

“We broke up.” Eddie starts, and Dustin nods to keep him talking. “We broke up three years ago, and I hadn’t seen them in two.”

“At all?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I couldn’t, it was too hard. I left Hawkins after that, and couldn’t make myself come back. I couldn’t face you, the guys, or even Wayne, y’know? Everyone thinks…” He trails off. Everyone thinks it’s his fault. It is his fault.

“I don’t.” Dustin seems to read his mind. “Sure, you didn’t handle it correctly, you ran away from us. But it’s not your fault it happened.”

“Dude, I know you mean well, but it is. I let everything get to me. The fame, the break up, and you’re right, I did run away.”

“The fame would get to anyone, Eddie. And as for the break up, of course it would. I had never seen you like that before Y/n. You two were inseparable, infatuated with each other beyond belief, obviously you’re gonna hurt. But you had us, you could’ve talked to anyone, to me.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I should have.”

“Why’d they break up with you?”

Eddie gapes at him. “Why do you think they broke up with me?”

Dustin can’t help but snicker. “Sorry, dude, you’re not hiding it well. The avoidance, the brooding, the drinking. They’re hanging out inside with everyone right now, and you’ve been at the bar all night.” Eddie doesn’t say anything. He wants Dustin to keep talking, to be angry at him, he has every right to be. “There’s something else, isn’t there? Something recent.” Eddie bows his head, kicks the gravel at his feet. “Something to do with Y/n?”

“They uh, they said something. To Steve, last night.”

“Oh, please, can you drop that? Steve and Y/n have never been anything but platonic, you know that.”

“No, nothing like that. They told him about a nightmare they had. Said it was my fault.”

“No.” Dustin says simply, shaking his head. “They wouldn’t. You sure that’s it? You heard them say that?”

“Well, no, but-“

“But nothing! You’re an idiot, Eddie.”

“Gee, thanks. I wasn’t already feeling horrible about myself or anything.”

Dustin groans. “You know eavesdropping gets you nowhere! For all you know, they were blaming you for a scuff on their boot.”

Eddie purses his lips. “I don’t really think that’s what it was.”

“It definitely wasn’t.” You stalk out of the shadows. “Dustin’s right, though, eavesdropping doesn’t get you anywhere. Well, except for when I do it.” You give him a sad smile, and he looks away. “Henderson, can I have a minute with our rockstar, please? The guys are on the other bus, if you wanna go raid the snack stash or something.”

Dustin nods, and turns back to Eddie. He wraps him in his arms, the first real hug he’s gotten since coming home. “Hear them out, okay? There’s an explanation for all of it.” Dustin pats Eddie on the back, then gives you a hug before disappearing into your bus.

Eddie can’t look at you, still basking in the post gig glow, cigarette dangling between your fingers. You walk closer, slowly as if not to scare him away. “I didn’t say anything like that.”

“Then what were you talking about?” He asks the ground.

“What did you hear?”

“‘All of this is because of him, as much as I hate admitting it. He’s the reason.’”

“Oh my god, you really are an idiot.”

“Right, I got that.”

“Eddie, I wasn’t talking about the nightmare. I told you, it happens when I come back here. It’s this place, feeding on whatever I’m already worried about. I was talking about my whole career. You’re the reason I’ve come this far, the reason I write what I do. I wasn’t blaming you for anything, I promise. Will you look at me, please?”

He does, finally. He looks into your pretty eyes, sparkling under the bright lights of the parking lot. Your cigarette hangs long forgotten in your hand, and you take another step towards him.

“You think you got here because of me?”

“I know I did. I couldn’t have done this without you, you have to know that. Deep in your soul, you know.”

He doesn’t, or at least he can’t admit it. What he does know is you don’t need him now. You’ve outgrown him, mastered your craft in such a way that doesn’t require his assistance anymore. And yet, you’re still there, waiting for him to come around, just like every other time. “I’m sorry. For this, for me. It wasn’t right of me to assume, to take something I only heard part of so personally.”

You shake your head. “No, it really wasn’t. Here I thought something real had happened. I thought I’d done something to hurt your feelings, with the way you’d been treating me. Avoiding me suddenly like I’d kicked your dog. Turns out, you’ll look for any small problem to excuse your behavior.” Your voice carrie’s a venom Eddie recognizes, each word stinging as it’s spit at him. “I’ll leave you alone. I get it. This is too hard for you, and I guess it’s not worth a fight.”

Before he can respond, you’re turning around, walking away again. “Wait! Please, wait.” He doesn’t mean for his voice to break, but he can’t help it. He can't watch you leave again.

You stop walking, but you don’t turn around. “What?” There’s no feeling in your voice, it’s cold.

“Are we okay?” He asks lamely.

You sigh. “We’re whatever you want, Eddie. Just like every other time.”

He’s dumbfounded as you walk away. You leave him there, alone, just like you’d found him six years ago.

-

Your POV

You can’t let yourself be proud. You know, deeply and surely, that you’d done nothing wrong. So why does it feel like you have? You’re in no mood to see your friends anymore, but it’s your last night in Hawkins before tour resumes, and you’re once again stuck with Eddie and his stupid face.

When you decide to make a beeline to the bar, you’re halted, colliding with a figure lurking behind the building. “Whoa, hey, sorry,” He stutters as you say, “You’re not supposed to be back here,” when he moves into the light. He’s older than you remember, more lines carved into the skin around his eyes and mouth, hair more white than gray, but it’s him. “Wayne, oh god, hi!” You squeak, and it takes him a second to recognize you.

“Y/n, wow. How are you, kiddo?” He cracks a smile, and your heart warms. He doesn’t hate you, even after everything.

“Oh, you know, same old.” He scoffs at your pathetic response, and you laugh too.

“Right, same old, touring the world and all.”

“Totally, just another day in paradise! Did you see the show?”

He nods, suddenly somber. “That’s why I’m back here. I don’t expect you’ve seen my boy?”

You frown at the question. “He hasn’t said hi?” Wayne shakes his head. “Yeah, he was just outside the bus, the big black one down there,” you point to where you’d come from. “Should still be there.”

“Thanks, love. How’s he, uh…” He trails off, realizing his question probably won’t have the best answer.

You give him one anyway. “He’s not good, Wayne. I don’t think he’s been good for awhile.”

He shakes his head sadly. “Haven’t heard from him in months, and after seeing that I had to find him.” His voice trembles, his fists clenching and flexing with each syllable. It scares you.

“Is this normal behavior with him?” You ask the question gently, trying to hide your nerves, and settle his.

“We talk once a week. Thought I’d give him some space when,” He pauses, meeting your eyes for the first time. They’re glassy, and it breaks your heart to see him so defeated. “I don’t know what you know. It’s not my business to tell, I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t apologize. I’ll walk you over to him.” Forgetting your dramatic goodbye, you pivot to face the buses, down the road from where you’d bumped into Eddie’s uncle.

“How’s tour been, by the way?” He begins, turning his head to look at you again. “You guys are making something great. Both of you,” He nods his head in the general direction before them.

“It’s definitely been chaotic. We've never done anything this big, and to do it under these circumstances is,” You falter.

“A punch in the face?” He offers helpfully.

And you laugh. Despite it all, you belly laugh at the man’s words, and it feels good to talk to someone outside of everything. Selfishly, you hope Eddie isn’t there, maybe you could hang out with Wayne. Maybe get your questions answered, or at least some inside scoop on why Marie’s diner is now called The Wrench.

“Yeah, a huge punch in the fucking face.”

You make it to the bus, still not running and therefore not leaving this shit town any time soon. You knock three times quickly, three times slowly, and three times quickly again. The bus shakes, and the door flies open. You’re met with the silhouette of Eddie in his underwear, travel sized toothbrush shoved in his cheek, chest heaving as he catches his breath. “What the- Are you okay?!” Your last conversation forgotten, panic written on his face, Eddie switches the front light on. “Wayne?”

“Hey, boy.” Wayne’s voice is weathered, a calming wave over this terrible tension, a welcome distraction.

“Didn’t think you’d have heard about this.”

“You think I’m not cool enough? You shoulda seen me in college, son.” And Eddie laughs, for the first time all day, and you can’t help giggling too.

“I’ll leave you guys alone, it was so nice seeing you, Wayne.”

“You too, kid. Keep it up.”

You nod, holding out your hand for him to shake. Wayne swats it away, pulling you into a hug you return with fervor. “Thank you for everything.” You whisper, and you can feel him shake his head, but he doesn’t respond. He has no idea what he’s done for you in raising Eddie, letting you crash at the trailer on bad nights, and promising not to say anything when he’d caught you singing in the kitchen that one time he’d come home early. He’d treated you, and all of your friends, like his own. He’s your family.

-

You end up playing Bullshit with everyone on the ride back to Nancy’s.

“5” Dustin slaps a card down.

“BULLSHIT!” It’s unanimous.

It’s a five

“FUCK!” Cards are thrown, birds are flipped, and there’s a pink tint to it all. You’d give it all up for this moment, but you know it’s not forever. The kids will go back to school, they’ll graduate, they’ll do something important. You’ll go back on tour, bumping into Eddie in different cities, different countries, until you inevitably kill yourself with drugs or pyrotechnics, or sell out stadiums until you’re fifty, like The Rolling Stones.

“Alright, kiddos, we’ve arrived.” Steve shoves himself from the bench to open the door. Both buses are parked down the street from Nancy’s, halfway to Dustin’s to make the trek home easier for them. “See you soon.” Steve squeezes Dustin first, then the rest of his children one by one. Eddie peers cautiously out of the crack in his own bus door, and you catch his eye. You have a million questions for him, and not a single one you’ll be able to ask any time soon.

“Ed, at least come say goodbye.” Steve says it with humor, a lightness you couldn’t manage if you’d tried.

It does the trick, as it always does, and Eddie emerges from his shelter. He makes his rounds, saying goodbye to the kids, then turns to Steve to say something. You can’t make it out, but Steve responds with a nod, and brings Eddie into his chest for a hug. “Alright, we’ll pick you up in the morning, you gonna be ready to go?”

“I don’t need Mother Steve over my shoulder to make sure I’m ready to leave. Wayne will do it for you.” He pats Steve on the shoulder. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah?” You join your friends in waving goodbye, despite the lingering heaviness in your chest. You’re worried about him, despite how many times you’ve told yourself he’s not your responsibility.

Eddie gets back into his bus, and it drives away, leaving the rest of you at the fork in the road. The kids take the left to Dustin’s, and you follow your friends and bandmates back to the Wheelers’. “I didn’t know Wayne still lived in Hawkins,” You start, hooking your arm through Steve’s. “I figured he would’ve left as soon as he could.”

Steve nods. “Guess it’s more difficult than that. But Eddie bought him a real nice plot of land on the far edge of town, and Wayne built the house.” Of course, Eddie bought Wayne a massive plot of land, that doesn’t surprise you at all. “What’s your deal? You haven’t visited the parents yet, everything okay?”

You shake your head. “They moved back to Boston after I graduated, they had no reason to stay, Dad quit his job because he missed the city so much. But they told me they’re coming to the show out there, so that’s keeping me going. It’s weird, being here now. Beyond you guys and the kids, this isn’t my home anymore.” You remember the day they told you they were leaving, and asked if you had wanted to come. By then, you and Eddie had already planned to move in together, but right now you were between jobs and Eddie had only just gotten signed. You’d moved into the trailer instead.

Steve wraps his arm around your shoulder. “You always have a home here, y’know. You can take the rockstar out of Hawkins, but you can’t take Hawkins out of the rockstar. Prime example just drove away.”

Your group reaches the front door, and you say your goodnights before dragging your tired body into the guest bed. Tonight, you sleep alone.

-

You’re back in the dark, this time going seemingly unnoticed as you watch the figures in front of you. You recognize Eddie instantly, even with his strange posture and soulless eyes. In front of him, the taller, lanky figure stalks around, surrounding Eddie with its massive arms and veiny body.

“You have succeeded in your mission, Eddie. You have eliminated the one thing holding you back. Whatever you do now, you do it without them.” The one supposed to be Eddie, he doesn’t say anything. He watches the figure as it moves, unfazed by the words it seems only to be thinking. The voice is disembodied, swimming through your ears, or living inside your mind, you’re not sure.

Before you can react, though, the limbs stretch, tangling themselves around to Eddie’s body. You can't move, can’t speak, only watch as the branches of its arms tighten around him, lifting him into the air before swiftly snapping his spine. The body falls to the ground with a thud, and you can’t scream, can’t cry, you can only watch the body of the boy you love bleed out in front of you, as it would have years ago if you hadn’t gotten there in time.

-

You’re woken up by Nancy barging through the guestroom door, panic on her face. “Hey, whoa, hey,” she hushes you, rubbing your back as you continue hyperventilating. “Another nightmare? Here, here’s some water.” She hands you the glass and you gulp, stopping only to gasp for air. “You wanna talk about it?”

You do, but you can’t bring yourself to start. The first thing out of your mouth is, “Where does Wayne live?”

“Wayne? Y/n, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, where does Wayne live?!” You try not to snap, but this anxiety inside you is not letting up. Nancy tells you the address and you barely register it, but you bolt out the bedroom door and down the stairs, slipping on a pair of abandoned sandals before throwing the front door open.

“It’s far, hold on a second, let me drive you.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” To your left, Mike’s bicycle lay against the side of the house, and you yank it towards you. “I’ll take his wrath for this, but I need to go now. I know you’re gonna try talking me out of it.” You throw your leg over the bike, amazed that it’s now too big for you considering you’d met Mike when he was several inches shorter than you.

“Okay, please be safe. Give me a call in the morning.” Nancy wraps her arms around you, and you lean your head on her shoulder. When she lets you go, you pedal away, only vaguely certain of the direction you’re going.

-

It takes you forty five minutes, but you find Wayne’s house. Out front, Eddie’s old, beaten box of a van sits on cinder blocks, and it makes your heart hurt. You shove that feeling aside like you do the bike, tossing it onto Wayne's front yard before sprinting to the door. It dawns on you, you have no idea what you’ll say, regardless of who opens the door, if anyone does. The light inside is on, and you think you hear music playing, so you say a quick prayer that you’re not disturbing anyone’s much needed rest.

You bang on the door before you can talk yourself out of it, and you don’t stop until it’s answered. When it swings back, Eddie basks in the glow of the porch light, draped in a torn tank top and plaid boxers, rubbing his eyes. “Y/n?”

You have to physically stop yourself from charging at him, throwing your arms around his neck and peppering his face with kisses. “God, I’m so sorry, did I wake you guys up?”

“No, you’re fine. I was just about to go to bed. You uh, wanna come in?” You nod sheepishly, and he moves to let you by, clicking the lock shut behind you. “Are you okay?”

You take in the living room before you, much bigger than the trailer you’re used to picturing Wayne in, but still very cozy. His mug collection is still on the wall, as well as pictures of him and Eddie, the Hellfire Club, and even a picture of you and Eddie from your senior year. It makes you smile to see you’re still part of the family. in Wayne’s eyes at least.

“Uh, well,”

“Right, stupid question. ‘Nother nightmare?”

You can't help it, you break. The tears fall from your face before you can make them stop, and your breath seems to leave your body. The sobs that erupt from your throat are strangled, broken noises, and you rush your hands to your eyes to cover them. You feel Eddie before you see him again, embracing you without a second thought, rubbing your back soothingly as he lets you cry. “We don’t have to talk about it. It was just a dream, you’re safe. I promise.”

You wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your face into his chest to suffocate the remainder of your sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Eddie. I couldn’t think of anything else, I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone. I woke Nancy up and I still couldn’t tell her. It was so dark, I was so scared you were,” You pull your face away to look at him. He’s tired, you can tell, soft eyes carrying bags of sleep beneath them that he’s more than ready to put down, but he’s here with you instead. “I can go. I know you probably don’t want me here, just give me a second. I just had to make sure you were okay.”

Eddie shakes his head, holding you still. “You’re not going anywhere tonight. It’s way too dark, and I don’t have a vehicle to bring you back. I didn’t come here to get away from you. I just wanted to be somewhere quieter for tonight. That’s all.” He pulls you back into him, seemingly more for himself than for you. “You’re alright. Let’s go upstairs. I’ll give you the tour tomorrow.”

Eddie holds his hand out, and instead you hook yourself around his arm like a child reunited with your parent, holding on for dear life so as not to get lost again. Eddie leads you up the stairs, and down the hall to what you can only assume is the guestroom. When he opens the door, though, it’s far too lived in. Eddie has clothes in the closet, shoes on the ground, and records on the shelf in the corner. “I keep a lot of my stuff here. Wayne won’t let me take it to LA, thinks it gives me a reason to visit more.”

“Does it?” You sniffle, finally relaxing.

He shrugs. “I’m here now, aren’t I?” He looks you up and down, taking in the clothes you’d ridden here in. “You need something to sleep in.” He turns to his dresser, pulling out an Iron Maiden shirt and another pair of boxer shorts. “It’s not much but,” He holds them out for you, and you take them gratefully. “I can uh,” You’re already changing before he can finish, and you don’t care one bit that he didn’t even bother turning around.

“Thank you.” It’s a whisper, full of shame. You didn’t want to disturb him, to interrupt his time away from everyone. You’d been selfish, biking your way here just to see him.

“You don’t have to thank me. Or be sorry, for that matter. Never.” He pulls the covers back and climbs into the big bed.

“I can sleep on the couch, I know you probably want to be alone.” Even though you don’t, you can’t be right now. You would, though, for him.

“Absolutely not. Get in. Please.” It’s not a question, but you nod, and climb into the bed beside him. Before you can move, Eddie drags you into him, his arms closing around your waist, head burying into your shoulder. Instantly, you’re calm. Eddie washes over you, and you’re overwhelmed by his warmth, his smell, his soft breath on your neck. I’m safe, I’m safe, I’m safe. You repeat it to yourself until you’re dozing off, and Eddie’s breath evens out. You fall asleep with him wrapped around you, and you don’t have another dream.

-

chapter XVII

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @lilpotatobean2-deactivated20230 @poisonedluv @kellsck

#st #stranger things #strangerthingscentral #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #fluff #angst #enemies to lovers #estranged lovers #mutual pining #miscommunications #misunderstanding #90s au #au where eddie lives #best friend!steve #fd #new kid fic #stranger things fan fiction #chapter fic

[communistkenobi]

Could you elaborate on the different ways that Qui Gon, Obi Wan, Anakin, Ahsoka and Luke defined Jedi or what it means to be a Jedi? I love to read your thoughts on stuff like this!

Yeah of course! I’m a bit rusty on Star Wars canon so this will be a bit more vague, but my general opinion is basically some version of the following:

imo Qui-Gon is billed in the canon as being a skeptic of the Jedi Order. He questions rules and determinations made by the Council, seems to dabble in conspiratorial or esoteric interpretations of Jedi theology or rules (iirc this is from Master & Apprentice), and seems to generally hold himself out as a contrarian. I don’t know if this manifests as a comprehensive critique of the Order, or if he just believes that pushback against institutional orthodoxy is inherently good. And you can probably critique his skepticism (he’s still an agent of the Order and by extension, the Republic), but like from what I remember in canon he is a guy who likes debating and questions his orders from the Council. My instinct is that he’s one of those anti-institution libertarian types, it’s not like a comprehensive critique of the Order but a more surface level desire to question authority (which, hey, no complaints in that regard lol). Now this is a separate question from how he views being a Jedi, but clearly some element of that is a moral obligation to “find a better way” to be a good person as a Jedi, to pushback on norms. He wants to be the minority opinion in the room, keeping the Council honest and all that jazz.

Which Obi-Wan fucking hated lol. Again pulling from M&A (mostly because it’s the most recent SW novel I’ve read with them in it), but Obi-Wan seems to be like this beleaguered bright-eyed student who has to put up with his Master’s bullshit antics. My personal view of Obi-Wan is a guy who fully buys into the Jedi Order as an institution that facilitates justice - he may critique the methods the Order uses or bend rules to get a better outcome (thinking of the 2016 Obi-Wan & Anakin comic here), but I think at the end of the day Obi-Wan believes the Order is a net-good for the world, believes in the mission of the Jedi to engage in diplomacy on the Republic’s behalf (I believe this is in conflict with his Legends characterisation, but iirc in the new canon he’s much more of a keener and I tend to like that interpretation more), and in his pursuit to be an ideal archetype of Jedi, he craves the legitimacy and prestige the Order confers onto his status as a Jedi Knight, especially as a Knight training The Chosen One. I think this is also why his death is integral to Luke’s story, as Luke had very different ideas about what a Jedi Order would look like and had Obi-Wan survived ANH, they likely would have fought bitterly about it.

Anakin I haven’t thought as much about, I think in general he was becoming a Jedi because that’s what everyone wanted him to be, and maybe he did have that dream at some point, but I think Anakin is mostly resigned to training and being knighted because that’s just how his life is going. He doesn’t seem to have a great deal of respect for the Order or Jedi customs (this informs a lot of his conflict with Obi-Wan), and he seems disinterested in furthering the Order’s political and social role in the Republic. He was actively hostile to taking Ahsoka on as a student, and I think his eventual fall from grace and turn towards the Sith marked this like, ultimate form of indulgence for him - a total rejection of his destiny, of all the expectations put on him, and a way to perform the perceived inadequacy that he was burdened with as a child. Like look dad, I’m the bad guy asshole everyone was so afraid I’d become! I’m not a Jedi and never could be! Fuck you!

Ahsoka I think has a much more developed version of the skepticism that we see from Qui-Gon, because she was confronted with the entire might of the Order and was cast out for a crime she didn’t commit. For her, being a Jedi is synonymous with institutional acceptance, and so if the Council doesn’t consider her to be a Jedi, then fuck that noise she’s not a Jedi. I think in terms of outlook you could say she’s still very Jedi-like, in the same vein as Luke, idealistic and self-sacrificing, but with Ahsoka it’s tinged with more cynicism and pragmatism than I think we see with Luke (at least in terms of the OT - I’m not familiar with the ST at all and don’t have a desire to engage with it so maybe later in life that’s a different story for him, idk). I think the loss of Anakin in particular also affects her a lot, and probably informs her non-attachment to a lot of people. She’s a drifter for personal safety reasons, but I also think she wouldn’t do well in a group long term (compared to someone like Kanan, who very much eschews the attachment rule and finds community with the Ghost crew). In that sense I think you could argue she’s a Jedi in practice but not in writing.

And Luke like. Idk where to even begin lol. He’s the only one of this group who was not brought up in the Order and has no formal training. Even Yoda and Obi-Wan’s training can’t substitute for growing up around other Jedi and being taught that kind of discipline and culture from a young age. He doesn’t have access to Jedi written teachings or Jedi history, he doesn’t place them in the same political context as the rest of his lineage does, experiencing the Jedi only as a bygone era, mysterious and ultimately fundamentally unknowable. Which means that his vision of Jedi-hood is probably “heretical” but also sort of a necessary new way forward, responding to what he perceives to be the failures of old Jedi teachings and ways of life. So for him Jedi-hood is a much more provisional affair, it is what he makes of it because he’s the guy who is literally making it. Which is ironic given that he’s literally THE original Jedi in the canon, like he’s how audiences are introduced to Jedi, but so much of that lore has been built up around him that he kind of becomes the odd one out. Which makes Filoni’s comment that he’s not really a Jedi sort of correct? Almost? Like I don’t actually really agree with it and his reasoning is idiotic, but Luke is not the traditional Jedi, he’s the origin point for an entirely new tradition. So he is a Jedi, very much so, but there is a break in tradition that can’t really be squared with the previous historical circumstances that created the Order. He has to forge a new way forward and reshape how Jedi exist and practice in a totally new context. Which is very cool!

#sw.txt #asks #sw meta #also thank you <3 sorry if any of the canon is wrong like I said I’ve forgotten a lot #honestly though this is fun. I need to get back into it