#and having that mirror to recognize that what i was feeling *was* trauma. it *was* betrayal. and i wasn't wrong to feel it.

[andromeda3116]

gah now i'm getting On My Shit about the discworld again and like i've said what i want to say about the witches and the watch but there's also small gods like i will never be over small gods i finished it and i was like... has this... has this healed some of my religious trauma?

if you've never read it, the plot is thus: on the disc, gods get their power from belief. therefore, the more believers a god has, the more powerful they are. and so, there is this god -- om -- who has risen in power, who has a country devoted to His worship, which hunts down and slaughters heretics and infidels, to whom people pray multiple times a day and make pilgrimages to His holy city, which has a huge citadel and huge structure of a complex religion devoted to his worship. and, on a whim, He comes down one day to see how things are going.

and discovers that he has no power.

that, in this country of millions who profess to worship Him with all their hearts, there is only one person left who actually believes in Him.

and there's a lot of meat there, and a lot more plot to delve into, but the core theme ends up boiling down to this:

can you forgive your god for how they failed you?

and do they deserve that forgiveness? how can they earn that forgiveness?

because ultimately, the forgiveness that the messianic archetype is embodying is not that of the god's grace, but of the people's -- to forgive their god his absence. to give their god another chance to be their god.

and whether or not you, in the end, can forgive, it gives you the language to realize that this is what you were asking for with your last prayers. whether or not you can ever go back, whether or not there have been other reasons since that have convinced you further, it gives you the language to accept that your god failed you. and it is not your fault.

this book speaks loudest, perhaps, to those of us who left our church with grief, not with anger. with hurt betrayal, not with the fires of defiance.

it didn't change my lack of religious belief, but it helped me conceptualize my feelings about the church, the things that went deeper than intellectual arguments. about that sense of betrayal, that hurt, that twisted-up knot within me that it had built, and it gave me the mirror within which i could see that i had been failed by my beliefs. it wasn't that i hadn't believed enough, it was that my belief had been betrayed by the absence of an answer.

there have been other reasons since then that have cemented my atheism, but small gods made me stop hating the church i used to love, because it made me recognize why i hated it so much and said "you're not wrong, it didn't have to be this way. you were betrayed and you were failed and you can let it go, now."

#discworld #gnu terry pratchett #small gods #religious trauma #i won't pretend it fixed everything because it's not that simple #but it gave me the language to understand the core of my emotions coming out of that awful place #and that was a seismic shift #i was steadily veering towards the Angry Atheist archetype but it unraveled that anger within me #i'm no less an atheist and this book never tried to change that - sir terry was a secular humanist and this is very much not one of those #preachy christian books like it is *aggressively* not one of those preachy christian books #it's about religious trauma and working through it and dealing with your complicated feelings about your religion #and having that mirror to recognize that what i was feeling *was* trauma. it *was* betrayal. and i wasn't wrong to feel it. #shifted something deep within me

[smooth-boob]

-

#I’m gonna be so real rn #the more I look at tv kathony the less I understand why they fell for each other #like book kathony makes so so so much sense that it makes tv kathony look contrived #they are literally each other’s comfort person in the book #they invariably anticipate each other’s needs by paying attention to one another #they process their trauma together #they become friends first #and before they really acknowledge their feelings they’re engaged for convenience reasons which FORCES the issue #because they’re both emotionally closeted #most importantly Anthony actually proves himself and shows her his good side not even on purpose #he’s just the way he is #and she knows he’s a complicated mess but tbh so is she #in the show I will say Kate has way more of a driving force which is appreciated and mirrors him well #I do think they trust each other if nothing else #they share these moments where they openly recognize the part they play in their plot #which is fascinating #anyway maybe this is my excuse for struggling to write them getting together without all that #but I do feel slightly bereft knowing what they could have had #idk maybe I just need to watch the show again #.braindump

[void-star]

I'm starting to get the impression that people don't actually know what a trauma trigger is or how to identify them.

It is not feeling uncomfortable or disgusted with a concept or subject.

It is an activation of your sympathetic nervous system (activates fight or flight) over things your brain has associated strongly with a traumatic event.

The things your brain associates with the traumatic event don't always have to make sense: it can be as innocuous as a certain song/ringtone or notes from a cologne/perfume, or as direct and obvious as the sight of a weapon.

The important thing here is that it's a moderate to severe body experience in response to something that is not immediately dangerous to you and reminds you of a traumatic experience you have had in some way.

When you know and understand this, you can start to catch the physiological signs of the activation of your sympathetic nervous system. It's helpful to recognize both to calm your body down when you're not in immediate danger, and to recognize how this activation can affect other areas of your life.

I say that last part because it shuts down a lot of cognition, makes you stop thinking clearly, because it serves the purpose of trying to get you immediately out of danger.

My therapist still does a kind of explicit mirroring with me a lot, where rather than focusing on the thoughts and the fear that's on the surface, she brings my attention to my body: tightness in muscles, narrowing of vision, increased awareness of sounds/smells, constriction of the chest.

I bring this up because, first of all, it seems like some people use "trigger" to by synonymous with feeling uncomfortable or disgusted, to ride on your concern for their wellbeing in order to control your behavior. I don't like that.

Second of all, it also seems like other people are focusing on the occurrence of a trigger as a hallmark of something being harmful. Like once you're triggered, you're hurt and damaged yet again, and there's no coming back from that.

This is both untrue and disingenuous. I don't think it's particularly useful for trauma survivors. It's important to recognize that triggers are the residual effects of the things that harmed us that we couldn't do anything about. Triggers are manageable and they are not an indication that you're being harmed again. They are the body's memory of the harm, and its commitment to preventing you from being harmed again by latching onto a pattern it thinks will help you be safe if there's a next time.

You HAVE to learn to rationalize this if you want to feel safer, more comfortable, and in control of your world. You deserve that.

You don't deserve to sit inside of the intense fear and lack of understanding that comes with not investigating your own experience, or the way it can box you in to see danger and harm and abuse all around you.

And if you don't learn that, you're going to end up believing the only thing that can keep you safe is the elimination of everything that reminds you of what you went through... which is harmful to other people.

#psychology #ptsd #ptsd triggers #trauma triggers #what is a trigger?

[youremyheaven]

Fated Love in Astrology

So, every person has a divine partner that they are meant to be with. Your union with your other half (I hesitate to use the world “twin flame” only because of how misconstrued it is in mainstream astrology/spirituality discourse) depends entirely on both of your individual spiritual awakening and commitment to the spiritual path.

In astrology, the 7th house represents marriage, or, as I like to call it “union”. The 7th house, is the 7th house from the 1st house. It is the descendant to your ascendant. It is the shadow to your ego. Whenever we cross paths with an individual whose luminaries fall to our 7th house, it creates a very magnetic & intense attraction. It’s almost inexplicable what you feel for each other.

With that said, this sort of connection is not logical or rational. It defies all norms. The key to recognizing your divine partner is the intense attraction you feel towards them right away. There is no hesitation or second guessing, you’re simply awestruck by them. Nowadays, we all have a very tedious approach to relationships (due to our collective trauma and bad experiences), everybody walks around with a checklist to find someone who will fit their criteria but that is not how Divine Love works. You just know instantly that there is something different about this connection. That is not to say, the nature of the relationship will be easy. Fated connections are never easy and not everyone is meant to find their Divine Partner. 

When such a person comes into your life, it usually triggers your ego death; they become responsible for you losing the shell of identity you held close to you. All your fears, your shame, your vulnerability comes to the forefront and you have to confront everything you’ve ever repressed. It leads to a dissolution of self. 

In Sufism, there is the concept of “fanaa” which can be translated to “annihilation”. In order to merge oneself with God, it is first necessary to annihilate everything that you consider to be you. It’s important to "to die before one dies". Love & Worship are very closely intertwined. This is exactly what “twin flame” connection feels like. You rid yourself of your ego, you dissolve your sense of “self”. Sounds intense? That’s because it is. It irks me when people talk about twin flames in a casual way because a) not everyone has a twin flame b) this is not a fun experience in any way, shape or form c)This is the least casual of experiences

(I am using the word twin flame here only because it is a term that more people are familiar with, I wanted to speak of the spiritual background of that experience whilst using a term that’s already familiar)

In Jungian psychology, there is the concept of anima/animus, which refer to the unconscious masculine aspect of a woman and the unconscious feminine aspect of a man respectively. One aspect of being a “whole” human being is to integrate these unconscious parts into yourself. This is similar to what a twin experiences, your other half seems to be in the shadow, hidden from your view, crossing paths with them, brings that realization to you and now in order to unite with them, you must first dissolve yourself and merge with that unconscious image of them. 

There is a reason why twins “mirror” each other; they are a reflection of you and vice versa. This is why every interaction with them strikes a nerve in you and you feel their absence like a phantom limb. 

If you’re on a twin flame journey or would like to know more about it, I suggest immersing yourself in Sufi philosophy. To a lay person, the Sufi concept of Love may seem dramatic and over the top but for those in the know, it will seem deeply familiar, because ultimately your longing and yearning for your “twin” is your innate longing to seek union with God/the Divine. We were all made in pairs and to know the other is to know God and to know God is to know Love.

These connections are presented to you in order for you to ascend. Why were you chosen for ascension over millions of others? That’s the divine plan, not up to us to question. It is entirely possible to meet such a person at a time in your life when you’re completely spiritually unevolved (this is very common) and they usually trigger your dark night of the soul. This leads to positive disintegration although nothing about this experience feels positive in any way, shape or form.

Actually uniting with your twin and sharing a life with them is a long shot. Its often an unrequited love. It requires A LOT of work by both people. There is a lifetime of purging, integration and inner work before union could ever be a possibility. Most people who use the term “twin flame” are using a fancy spiritual label to describe their excessive interest in someone. You don’t have a twin flame, you’re just manic. 

In Arabic literature, there are 7 stages to love, it is as follows:

1. Dilkashi or attraction

2. Uns or attachment

3. Mohabbat or love

4. Akidat or reverence 

5. Ibadat or worship

6. Junoon or madness

7. Maut or death

If you believe you’re experiencing a twin flame connection, you have probably gone through these stages, maybe not in this order but you’ve probably experienced all of these. 

You experience an inexplicable attraction that draws you to them, regardless of how far you stray from them, your heart clings to them & forms a deep attachment, even though you don't seem to understand it, you're consumed by love for them, without even knowing why, this love morphs itself into reverence and soon enough it's eclipsed even that & embedded itself as worship. Your feelings for them are so strong, intense and powerful even in separation, even in their absence that you feel yourself going mad. This madness is key because it brings you to the death of "self". You lose all sense of who you were before you met them. You're ripped of your ego. You die and die and die again, hoping to taste the love that will give life to you.

There are astrological indicators obviously but just because these aspects/placements are present, does not mean they are your twin flame. The biggest indicator is the deep sense of knowing you have in your soul, you don’t even have to know the word “twin flame”, you’re experiencing a magnetic, excruciating and tortuous kind of attraction. 

Some indicators:

1. Venus in 12h 

2. Venus in Scorpio

3. Primary Scorpio or Taurus placements (the Taurus-Scorpio axis creates the most intense chemistry between two people)

4. Moon conjunct Mars 

5. Opposite signs occupying many placements (Virgo-Pisces, Cancer-Capricorn, Gemini-Sagittarius)  

5. 7h synastry 

6. Bharani nakshatra 

Uniting with your twin can trigger your kundalini awakening. It is not for the faint of heart. Union is a very intense experience. Much has been said about twin flames and tantric sex. Imo? What we call Tantric sex is essentially the heightened feeling and intensity of sexual experience that a Tantric practice brings about. (its possible to feel this way with a non-twin if you have a disciplined Tantric practice). 

Sex is the source and root of everything. It is the cause of creation and nothing less than divine. Eros is the first god that could be conceived by man, he is the creator of all beings and ruler of the universe. He is son of Chaos, the original primeval emptiness of the universe.

Longing, desire and Eros, all go hand in hand. When your soul has longed for someone for so long, the sheer passion and enormity of desire will make it a very one of a kind experience. Short answer being that sex with your twin will be out of this world and life changing.

In Sufism, there is a concept called baqaa which is subsistence through God. Someone who has experienced fanaa, or annihilation of the ego and self, finds God, unites with him and sees him in everything. This is what love of a “twin flame” nature does. It is all consuming and potent, you cannot walk away from it, even brushing with it briefly, transforms you. It purifies you and strips you of your pride, shame, fears and everything that you thought was “you” but the reward for this is understanding through first hand knowledge, a love so all encompassing, expansive, deep and profound that it forever alters the way you look at the world. You begin to love everything and everyone because you’ve tasted true love and its generosity. 

Karmic Partnerships

These are extremely common and almost everyone has one. They need not strictly be romantic. Many non-romantic associations can be karmic. These people to put it very plainly, come into your life, to teach you lessons. They need not explicitly be “bad relationships” but the energy is definitely not light hearted and its absolutely not meant to last a lifetime. You are meant to learn your lessons and move on from them and break the karmic cycle. However there are people who do not do this and stay stuck in the same patterns and perpetuate the same cycles.

Some indicators of Karmic Partnerships in astrology:

1. 12h synastry

2. 8h synastry 

3. Saturn aspects 

4. Capricorn/Libra placements

Soulmates

These are the most wholesome, fulfilling bonds between two people. Soulmates need not always be romantic. The bond is kind of instant and inexplicable. You just get each other. It feels fulfilling, empowering and light. It fills you up. There is no angst and there’s no chaos. 

Some indicators:

1. Moon signs that are compatible with each other

2. Moon aspects that are positive

3. Venus-Ascendant aspects

4. 5h synastry

5. Strong Venus or Jupiter aspects

6. Element compatibility (fire & air vs water & earth)

🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧚🏼‍♂️🧚🏼‍♂️🧚🏼‍♂️🦋🦢🦢🦢🦋🧚🏼‍♂️🧚🏼‍♂️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧚🏼‍♀️🧚🏼‍♀️🧚🏼‍♀️🦋🦋🦢🦢🦢🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️

I’m sorry if I sound a little too esoteric on this post 😭😭😭idk how else to talk about this stuff and I tried my best to make it sound as simple as I could 😭I hope this was interesting and if you guys have any questions feel free to ask me💛💛

Further reading:

1. Plato’s Symposium

2. Sufi philosophy and poetry 

3. Carl Jung’s works

#soulmates #twin flames #twin flame astrology #twin flame #soul mate connection #astrology #sufism #carl jung #bharani #vedic astrology #astro observations #soulmate indicators

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS PT. 13 DIVINE FEMININE - ART OF TRANSFORMATION

So I want to get into the signs, houses, and aspects that express a form of transformation that isn't recognized thru them majority of the time. Scorpio placements will be one of the energies I get into, however it isn't the only one that has this gift down pack.

All placements have different forms of healing & transformation. I'm just highlighting the observations I've been getting from each sign listed thus far.

Aries Rising/Virgo Placements - > These two energies have an ability to let go of their environments, circumstances and going deep into the mind to let things happen. What I mean is, both these placements are strictly head first in a lot of what they do and this can be a pretty tricky battle. The way they transform is through the heart, and the body and the mind follows suit after. At some point in their reality, they will have to let the mind go, in order to form the life they wish to live for themselves more openly.

For aries however, this isn't typically their issue. Their issue lies in always moving with their head, and not being strategic like their Virgo pals. Moves made first without thinking doesn't teach them anything and once they learn to allow the mind to form a new way of doing things this is where they challenge themselves and create a new persona.

Scorpio Placements deal with transformation a lot differently. It is an everyday cycle, not something they can shut up. Unlike their friends the virgos and aries, they can shut this down through their minds and can easily suppress things quicker. Scorpios, unfortunately cannot get the same. Because they feel everything. And I mean everything. And internally, they know whats the spiritual reason as to why they are the way they are so their pain/trauma is justified. The art of transformation for these cats is to look into that mirror into the void and explore the rage, warmth, the things that matter and the things that don't and letting it shape them. They have the wounds to impact others with healing methods if they just listen to themselves. The way they transform is through the psyche, the unconscious realms. Their doing shadow work without all the journaling or magic. It just comes to them.

Pisces/Neptune Placements are constantly shapeshifting. Their form of transforming is strictly from the ethereal realm, and it finds its way through physical activity or thru the imagination. Their world is constantly shifting and changing and in most cases you can find it through their clothing style, the way they express themselves and even thru their perspective. All 3 of the things I mention in conjunction all align together when something mentally changes them, since they are ruled by the subconscious/unconscious part of their brain more then their peers.

Moon/Cancer placements have a dark side that at some point of their life they shift into. Most never see this to be a real thing until well... something or someone changes them to that direction. This transformation is almost inevitable. They have to learn the darkside of their emotions or else it'll literally hurt them in the end. They must go down the dark depths of their soul to conquer the hidden array of demons that they kept under their beds so long ago. Skeletons in their closet is an understatement, its not the type that we are normally use to seeing from this group. You wouldn't believe their like that.

On the brighter side, this shows that these people are multidimensional and not just the sweet loving nurturing breed of individuals they normally keep you accustomed to. When they get to this phase, they aren't for the weak. So get use to it when the get their because they'll balance out both personalities for the better.

Libra Placements - Have a mental transformation they embark in throughout their life. Their perspectives change them in a way that forms a fair yet equal link to other humans as they're prone to be more selfish in the beginning. The heart is also where they transform, and it is through love they really can make a difference. Everything is prone to mental physics first, then the heart leads the way. Their not use to showing all their skin, but usually when they do its because something or someone made them bare their heart, for better or for worse. If it gets worse, than they'll start being the ones to play you for your heart. If best, they'll learn to share that love in all ways as their charm lights up even more. For individuals who are normally private, their vulnerabilities is what sheds away the old demons and become aware of their souls embarking on ways compassion could heal them and others around them.

Virgos have to live a little, that's simple. Normally the picture perfect group, they have to focus on the heart and the body and NOT what the mind is telling them. They can't live in those rose colored glasses they made themselves. They gotta let things around them be as it may, and they can join the circus if they like. Being more open to things outside of their comfort zone challenges their old self, while creating a new one. Something shifts inside of their body before that transformation really starts to hit. Their the rulers of the maiden-mother-crone phase. Psychological something changes them during certain points in their life weakening they old self and making new beginnings form with experience. They are connected to the kundalini and the serpent mind. More to come on this seperately.

#astrology thoughts #astrology #astrology theories #tropical astrology #astrology observations #astro observations #astro notes #astro thoughts

[saturnianautist]

♠️Astro notes pt. 111♠️

Disclaimer: I am not a professional astrologer these are just my opinions based on my own experiences.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ⋄

♠️Taurus’s complain a lot when they are angry or upset. Underdeveloped ones will do it to a degree where they will be upset about one thing and start back to back nitpicking different things that they usually wouldn’t and start blaming others or just anyone and anything but themselves. They can really struggle taking accountability.

♠️ Aries mars in a relationship literally can’t keep their hands off of you, big physical touch people. They also really like doing active things together or going out to do something. Something that involves moving around.

♠️Virgos can be really into personality quizzes and stuff like that. They get fascinated with why people are the way they are especially themselves and understanding there own brain. They also just like collecting information as well.

♠️In tropical astrology you can start to act more like your moon sign as you grow up.As you get older and start improving your self love and confidence, you can start giving your inner child what it originally wanted and express your inner authentic self more(Moon=inner child, inner emotions/thoughts, what feels like home, what feels comfortable, the parts of ourselves we hide from others due to childhood wounds).

♠️Imo Leo women get the most authentically kind zodiac for me. They have such big hearts and I’ve seen so many Situations where they are too generous to a fault. It’s sometimes even to the point where they are sacrificing something from themselves just to make the other person happy. They often have to learn which people actually deserve this side of them otherwise they end up getting hurt a lot.

♠️Ironically, with the notes above, I’ve seen them hurt the most by cancers (also Capricorns are an honorable mention as well but cancers are more tied to emotions so they hit where it hurts more than the caps lmao.) This might have to do with them being ruled by the sun and moon. The sun is bright and full of energy (just like leos), it shines that light onto the moon (leos hyping them up and spreading love and constantly giving their energy to them). The moon reflects the light back whenever shined upon (cancers at first will mirror what energy the Leo’s are giving). Cancers can only do this for so long though, eventually they aren’t able to keep up with it anymore and they show their actually energy which for Leo’s comes out of nowhere and they feel switched up on and betrayed. It takes both a very matured cancer and Leo to be in a healthy relationship/friendship successfully.

♠️Having a 8th house stellium is exhausting y’all but as you get older it will get easier. Not in the way that the things that we are prone to running into stop but in the way that we realize our power more and we won’t feel as exhausted anymore because we know better ways to approach the situations. (If you have one ikyk what I’m talking about and there’s so much so I didn’t explain specifically, lmk if you guys want a post on 8th house stelliums. Might even make a series on stelliums).

♠️Pluto and Chiron in the 4th house can have a lot of their trauma wounds caused by their family members (checking your aspects to those can tell you more details).

♠️Having a lot of Aries degrees in a chart can mean your hair is red or has reddish undertones, or maybe you like to dye your hair that color. For example I have five Aries degrees in my chart and I have red hair. Your other placements can possibly tell you what shade. I also have five Aquarius degrees (traditionally ruled by saturn) and a cap rising and I have a dark auburn shade (saturn rules black or the absence of light)

♠️Every time I meet a Gemini I can always recognize them by there natural smirk. Even when they aren’t trying to smile they have this slight smirk because they smile with their eyes. They always look like a little kid thats up to something lmao. Think of Naomi Campbell or Tom holland.

Thanks for reading till the end! <33

#astro notes #astrology #zodiac #astro observations

[gffa]

UGH GONNA THROW UP FROM FEELINGS, like I love Dick being used as the heart of the family one, the one that annoys you into cheering up, the one that emotionally connects with you and supports you, the one that’s a light in the darkness, but also that comes with the foundation of Dick understands Bruce in a really fundamental way. The whole story is about Hugo Strange trying to understand what makes Batman tick, the trauma that drives him, and he sees some of the shape of it, but he doesn’t really get the underlying meaning, that he sees Batman as someone driven by childhood trauma and that this is a weight that will eventually break him. Dick, on the other hand, understands that it being about Bruce’s childhood is what drives him to want to protect other people from that same kind of trauma, that it fuels him instead of being an obstacle he has to overcome to be Batman, that it’s not about his ego, it’s about his heart. And it has to be Dick that understands how to beat the giant monster that they’re facing, the one that’s a metaphor for the child inside. It has to be Dick that puts the pieces together and runs up the cable line and flings himself into the maw of the monster, the one who dives into that dark. It has to be Dick that understands that Strange got it wrong, that he read the book but didn’t understand the message. It has to be Dick that understands that Batman embraces his monsters and uses them for fuel. Because Dick is the one who knows Batman best here. Dick is the one who dove headlong into the dark of Batman when he was a child and brought light to Bruce’s life. Dick is the one who has his own childhood monster of trauma and loss inside him and uses it for fuel, too, he’s the one who shares that specific deep wound of the loss of their entire world shattering around them when their parents were murdered in front of them, that at the very, very heart of them, this is what drives them both. Dick is the one who has to understand what’s going on here, because nobody read the book of Bruce Wayne and understood it like Dick Grayson understood it, both because Dick went through the same thing himself and because he was the first, he was the one that broke down that wall that Bruce put up, the one that Bruce couldn’t keep at arm’s length, he’s the one who understands what it means to be driven by the child inside of you and how it makes them fly higher and further than they could have otherwise. It had to be Dick because he’s not just the nice one in the family, but he’s also the reflection of Bruce Wayne’s childhood traumatic loss, the one that mirrored Bruce more than anyone else when it comes to why they do what they do.  For all that Dick took that loss and turned towards the light with it in a way that Bruce struggles with (but this, too, is a reflection/extension of Bruce’s character in a bigger meta way, that Bruce's whole thing with Dick is that he’s the version of Batman that Bruce himself wants to see in the world, the one that comes from the same place but turns to hope and light to lead others), Dick absolutely understands why Bruce does what he does in a way that lets him recognize when others have an absolutely bullshit reading on Bruce’s motivations. ANYWAY I’M EMOTIONAL ABOUT BRUCE’S RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS OLDEST SON AND THE THEMES OF HOW DICK ISN’T JUST “FORMER ROBIN”, BUT THAT HE’S THE VERSION OF BRUCE WAYNE AND BATMAN THAT BRUCE WANTS TO EXIST IN THE WORLD.  AND THAT’S WHY IT HAD TO BE DICK WHO UNDERSTOOD WHAT STRANGE GOT WRONG ABOUT BATMAN’S MOTIVES.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #batman: night of the monster men #long post

[worth-the-chaos]

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: With the events of last fall in the past, you attempt to move on, still working on your academics and babysitting Dustin. You and Steve have drifted since your encounter with the otherworldly, but he begins to make more active efforts to talk to you, making sure you have an invite to Tina’s big Halloween party.

Content Warning: swearing, stancy, reference to upside down stuff, billy being an ass, college application stress, drinking, anxiety and trauma

Word Count: 6.3k

Author’s Note: Again, I’m trying to follow a lot of the plot lines of the series for this x reader, so a lot of it is probably a bit familiar! This part follows the reader’s involvement through Halloween, when things begin to turn sour again.

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Next Part

***

You took a deep breath as you looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Half-dressed for the day, your eyes couldn’t help but focus on the scars that littered your upper arm, remembering when they used to be deep gashes.

It had been about a year since you stood in the Byers’ house fighting for your life against the horrifying entity from what the kids elected to call the Upside Down. Though your physical wounds had healed, the emotional ones still lingered. Every once in a while, fear invaded your consciousness as you thought back to the flashing lights and the low growl resonating through the small family room. Sometimes when you closed your eyes, you could still see the rows and rows of razor sharp teeth, inching closer and closer to your face.

It was paralyzing, but you shoved those thoughts and feelings aside as you threw a long sleeve shirt on, covering the physical evidence of your fight against the supernatural. Stop thinking about that, you reminded yourself, it’s all over now.

The walk to Hawkins High wasn’t terribly long, though you did still wish you were fortunate enough to afford a vehicle of your own. Once you finally reached the parking lot, a car honk drew you from your thoughts and you were met with the familiar face of the one and only Steve Harrington as he smiled and waved from the driver’s seat. Sat next to him was Nancy Wheeler. Steve’s talk with her in the hospital evidently had been successful because they’d been back together since then, coming up on their first anniversary. You found it difficult to be happy for the couple, but you pushed the jealousy down in your chest and did a small wave back, a half smile on your face. Nancy didn’t respond with the same enthusiasm as Steve, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

The window suddenly rolled down and Steve called out, “Hey y/n! I’ll see you in study hall! I have a question for you!”

“Okay…? See you then, I guess,” you responded, a bit surprised. Since last year, Steve had rethought his life choices. He wasn’t the same douchebag he’d been when he broke Jonathan’s camera and called Nancy a slut. He dropped Tommy H and Carol, started focusing a bit more on school, and was generally a lot nicer than he used to be. However, despite the way you both risked your lives together, blindsided by the paranormal darkness lurking in Hawkins, you both kind of fell out of touch.

He had Nancy and you had…well, you had your studies. And your babysitting gig. One year strong babysitting the Henderson kid, and only one apocalyptic encounter. Needless to say, you were doing pretty damn good.

Suddenly, the sound of tires screeching on the pavement drew the focus of the three of you away from the semi-awkward encounter, watching as a car with California plates peeled into the parking lot. A boy you didn’t recognize stepped out of the car, flicking his cigarette behind him. A young girl emerged from the passenger seat, turning and making her way down the hill in the direction of Hawkins Middle.

You scoffed, being the impeccable babysitter that you were. Was this guy really too lazy to drop his kid sister off at her school that was less than a block away?

He swung his car door shut and paused, looking you up and down before sending a wink and smirk your direction and turning to make his way into the high school. Your hands gripped your backpack straps a little tighter, feeling like an object to be used or consumed under his gaze. You didn’t have a good feeling about this boy, and something told you that Hawkins High had found its replacement for the King Steve that disappeared when Harrington wisened up last year.

“Who is that guy?” You suddenly heard Steve’s voice ask, annoyance painted on his face. He wasn’t too thrilled with the way he had looked at you. Steve knew the type of guy he was; the type that wouldn’t take no for an answer, and in that moment despite the countless girls drooling over his dumbass mullet, he had zeroed in on you.

“Must be new,” you responded, forcing a smile in an attempt to demonstrate that the mystery boy’s actions hadn’t fazed you. You fought an otherworldly entity; surely you could handle some asshole jock. In a way, you already had, and look how that turned out.

“The two of you should steer clear of him. He’s bad news,” Steve warned. Nancy and you didn’t argue, nodding before you took off to enter the building so you wouldn’t be late for first period.

By the time you were on your way to third period study hall, you had already spent the morning contemplating what Steve could possibly have to ask you. It was your junior year, his senior, and while you were taking it for the extra study time, he was taking it to avoid coursework from one more class, largely using it as a time to take a school sanctioned nap. As such, normally you didn’t interact much during the one hour break from boring lectures and busy work.

“Hey,” Steve whispered as he slid into the chair next to you, a stark juxtaposition to the way he slammed his textbooks on the desk, causing you to jump.

“What? Not taking your spot in the back corner so you can sleep without Mrs. Reed giving you shit?” You asked, staring up at him innocently.

“Actually, I was thinking I could get us out of here for the hour.”

“And how do you suppose that’s going to happen?”

“I’ll put on the old Harrington charm…just watch,” he smirked as he stood up, grabbing you by the elbow to drag you to the teacher’s desk. Mrs. Reed was not the type of person to mess with. She wore her hair up in a slicked back bun that meant business, wearing a scowl like it was an accessory. You seriously doubted the “Harrington charm” was going to do shit to get you out of that classroom.

She glared at the boy through her thin wire glasses, clearly not in the mood for his shenanigans. “Is there a problem?” She droned out, her expression fixing further into annoyance, if that was even possible.

“Actually, Mrs. Reed, I’m afraid there is,” he started, “you see, y/n here was just telling me about how she has this big presentation in her fourth hour class, and she was really hoping for an opportunity to practice. Is there any possible way you’d be so gracious as to let us utilize one of the study rooms in the library? I mean, we can’t go letting Hawkins’ star pupil do anything less than ace this thing, am I right?”

He shook you by your shoulders a bit at the end, and even though the compliment was nothing more than a lie, you still flushed under the praise. It wasn’t everyday that you got complimented in front of your entire study hall class by the most popular student in the school.

“Is that so, y/n?” She turned to you.

“You know me and my nerves, Mrs. Reed; I could really use the help. And besides, Steve is probably about the most rowdy audience I could possibly have, so presenting after this will be a piece of cake,” you pasted a smile on your face. You felt bad lying to her; she’d been a pretty decent English teacher your sophomore year.

“Fine. Don’t worry about coming back before the end of the hour. I know I can trust you to keep Harrington in line,” she answered, glaring at Steve before turning back to the work on her desk, done with the bullshit of high school students; the good ones and the bad ones alike.

You both quickly thanked her before Steve grabbed both of your backpacks and you headed out the door.

“Okay, if I’m going to be completely honest, I was about 85% sure that wasn’t going to work. Mrs. Reed fucking hates me…like a lot,” Steve breathed out as he tossed you your bag, his cocky facade finally dissipating as he continued down the hall.

“This better be a good fucking question, Steve,” you grumbled, not happy about the lie he forced you into, “what am I supposed to do if she asks me about my presentation? What am I supposed to do if she talks to Mr. Hayes?”

“Woah, woah, woah, cool your jets,” he rolled his eyes, “Mrs. Reed is probably a year or two away from retirement and barely even cares about the shit she’s teaching, so I think you’re going to be fine.”

You entered the library, quickly moving to one of the study rooms. You tossed your bag on the floor, already tired from the day and not fully emotionally prepared to spend an hour one on one with Steve.

“Alright, what’s the deal?” You asked as you sat in one of the chairs, crossing your arms as your face fixed into a glare.

“Well, first of all, here,” he shoved an obnoxiously orange flyer at you. You grabbed it a bit aggressively, still not super happy with the boy in front of you. He had a dorky-ass grin on his face though, and it almost broke the cold exterior you were trying to keep up….almost.

“‘Tina’s Halloween Bash, come and get sheet faced,’ are you kidding me? This is what we’re skipping study hall for? Dude, I have an AP chem test this week that I really needed to study for,” you whined, shoving the flyer back at him.

“No, of course this isn’t the reason we’re skipping. I may be dumb, but I’m not an idiot,” he said as he shoved the flyer back at you, “It’s just…I know you never go out, a-and—and it’s Halloween! You can’t stay in on Halloween! Plus, Nancy and I are going to be there, so it’ll be fun, I swear it.”

He leaned across the table, the elbow of his right arm settling right in the middle as he reached his hand towards you. Your focus shifted to his extended pinky. You looked at him incredulously as he waggled it a few times, looking at you with his big brown puppy dog eyes. This boy was going to be the death of you, but you wrapped your small pinky around his anyway.

“I’ll consider it. That’s the best you’re getting.”

“You know what, I’ll take it. Which brings me to my next topic, and pretty much the entire reason for this in the first place, which is that Nancy thinks my application essay sucks and I really need some fucking help,” Steve leaned back while he ran his hands down his face.

You felt a pang in your heart because you knew how stressful this all probably was for the boy. You’d been smart and planned accordingly, so getting into colleges wasn’t the part that was stressing you out; it was the finances that did. Steve on the other hand had screwed around for two and a half years and now somehow needed to manage turning things around enough so that he had even a fighting chance.

“Just give it to me,” you sighed and he quickly handed over the essay he had written.

Steve watched your eyes scan the page as you read the words that he had spent the last week writing. He was a bit embarrassed, to say the least; he had taken one English class with you last semester and knew that he didn’t even write half as well as you did. Hell, Nancy didn’t even come close and her writing was really, really good.

“You…you compared winning a basketball game to your grandfather fighting in the war?” You asked incredulously.

“…yeah?”

“Steve.”

“I know, I know! It’s bad, but that’s why I need your help! I was gonna have Nancy help me but we have this thing tonight and I can’t miss it and—“

You cut him off. “Steve, stop talking. I can help you…but I think you’re going to have to rewrite this whole thing.”

Steve hung his head and buried his face in his hands. Of course I’m gonna have to rewrite the damn thing because it can never just be fucking easy. He felt your hands pull on his wrist and he looked up, finding you staring at him sweetly. A bit pitying, but it was still sweet. With that, some of his anger subsided and he took a deep breath.

“You just need to find something more meaningful to you. I mean, I can tell your heart really isn’t in this. Besides, sometimes the best essays are about the things you’ve lost, not the things you’ve won.”

Steve thought about this. He lived a pretty privileged life. He didn’t want for anything, his future was pretty much set so long as he took the job at his dad’s company, he had the girl, the car, the hair, etc. Sure, his parents kind of really, really sucked but that was small potatoes compared to all of the things he had easy. It was hard to think of something he really, truly lost.

He almost had lost you.

His thoughts flashed to the demogorgon, the way his heart stopped and instinct took over as he had swung the bat with all his might to get the damn thing away from you. He pushed the thought away and suddenly he wasn’t interested in working on this essay anymore.

“You know what? You’re right. I’m gonna need some time to brainstorm some things to write about, but in the meantime, how about we focus on that AP chem test, huh? I mean, there’s no way you don’t have color-coded flash cards and all that jazz”

“Steve, you really don’t have to. I’m sure you have a lot better things to do than to help me cram for some dumb test.”

“Hey, first of all, if it’s important to you, it’s not dumb. Secondly, I might be a shit learner, but I’m a pretty damn good quizzer, so hand ‘em over,” he motioned for you to hand him your index cards as you sheepishly pulled them out of your backpack in their color-coded glory.

“How could I have possibly known?” He feigned surprise.

“Shut up, Harrington.”

***

When all was said and done, you felt moderately better about your AP chem test. Steve wasn’t lying when he said he was a good quizzer; by now, you had every word on every one of those damn cards memorized. During your walk to the Henderson household, you pulled the bright orange flyer out of your pocket. You couldn’t help but smile thinking back to Steve inviting you. He wanted you to be there.

“Y/n!” Dustin drew you out of your thoughts as you quickly shoved the flyer back into your back pocket. The middle school and the high school let out at the same time. He wasn’t far behind you, sat atop his bike as he hopped off and walked with it next to him so he could talk to you.

“You can ride your bike home. I seriously doubt you can get into any serious sort of trouble in the five minutes it takes me to catch up,” you reminded him, though you weren’t entirely sure that was true; in fact, the boy was such a problem sometimes that you considered upping your rate to charge his mom for hazard pay.

“First off, I think you underestimate how much faster I can get home on my bike than you can on foot. Secondly, what was that you just put in your pocket?”

“It-It’s nothing,” you said maybe a little too quickly as your face heated up.

“Bullshit. Spill.”

You sighed. “It’s just some stupid flyer for a big Halloween party. Nothing that concerns you, unless you somehow age several years in the next few days and are suddenly eligible to attend,” you joked, sarcasm lacing your tone as you tried to gather your bearings and act more casual. He didn’t need to know that, to you, it was more than just some Halloween party; it was a Halloween party that Steve Harrington had invited you to.

“You don’t go to parties though,” Dustin was quick to remind you. He was right. Sure, early on in high school you’d been invited to a few, but after you continued to decline, people stopped reaching out.

“Well…there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” you muttered.

“Are you gonna dress up?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who invited you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Was it a guy?”

“No!”

“So it was a guy!” Dustin exclaimed. You rolled your eyes and jogged ahead, trying to put some distance between you and the incessant questioning of the boy you had the great misfortune of babysitting.

“Your silence is incriminating!” He shouted after you, unable to run very gracefully while attempting to guide a bike around.

You shook your head and sighed. Could babysitting Henderson ever be easy?

***

You walked towards Tina’s house feeling more than just stupid. You didn’t even know Tina super well outside of her always bumming notes off of you when she missed fifth period French. After your conversation with Dustin, you began considering the many elements of a Halloween party that had slipped your mind when you pinky promised Steve you’d go. You hadn’t thought about a costume because, frankly, you hadn’t initially been planning on doing anything for Halloween; it was just going to be another Wednesday for you.

As such, you had decided not to dress up, instead opting to pick apart your closet to find clothes that would maybe scream “party,” settling on your favorite pair of jeans, a low cut black tank top, and a denim jacket. So, yeah, you weren’t in costume, but at least your tits had kind of showed up to the party, so you decided that was good enough.

The mess of bodies dancing at different levels of sobriety made it difficult to navigate the front lawn and you hoped with all your might that Steve and Nancy were already there. You got closer to the front door when you heard the headache inducing sounds of high school testosterone as a bunch of the douchebags from Hawkins High hyped up Mr. California for doing an absurdly long keg stand.

Gee. Great.

As you reached to grasp the doorknob to let yourself into the party, a hand from behind you slammed the door back shut just as soon as you had opened it. You were met eye to eye with the mullet headed, leather jacket wearing douchebag himself. Something was off about this boy (besides the fact that he was unbelievably hammered), and you thought back to Steve’s warning to stay away.

“Hey,” he slurred as he looked you up and down, his eyes pausing longer than they should’ve when they reached your chest. You felt small under his hungry gaze, but you refused to allow yourself to visibly shrink so you straightened your posture and forced your chin up as you looked him in the eye.

“Excuse you,” you muttered as you tried to pull on the door handle again. Obviously it didn’t budge, and he laughed at your attempt. You scowled as you met his eyes again. “What’s your deal, man?”

“The name’s Billy. Billy Hargrove,” he shot you a smirk that screamed trouble as he extended his hand towards you, offering up a handshake.

What a total ass. Fortunately though, he was cocky enough to think that striking up a conversation would cause you to stay, removing his hand from the door, so you took the opportunity to maneuver past him, opening the door and slipping inside.

“Frankly, I don’t give a shit,” you added before slamming the door in his face. You saw the look of shock flash across his features before he disappeared from view and you couldn’t help but feel good about it. The feeling quickly dissipated though as you attempted to weave around the living room, nearly tripping as you made your way into the kitchen where you met Nancy.

“What’s in this?” She was asking a guy in a toga. You recognized him from your second period class, but you didn’t know his name.

“Pure fuel! Pure fuel! Whoo!” He shouted back at her, and you realized you were perfectly fine not getting to know him.

“Well, with that ringing endorsement, we’d be dumb not to have a little, right?” You chuckled and Nancy spun around at the sound of your voice.

“Y/n, you made it,” she said, smile not really touching her eyes, “Steve wasn’t sure you were going to show.” Both of you dipped red solo cups into the questionable mixture, filling them up with the red mix of booze and punch.

“Yep, here I am. In the flesh,” you laughed again, trying to dispel the awkward energy. Something about her seemed off; normally she would be much more friendly. You hoped that you hadn’t done anything to upset her. “Nancy, is everything okay?” You asked quietly as you gently grabbed her wrist.

“I’m fine,” she replied as her jaw set and her tone told you not to push the question. You let go of her wrist and nodded, letting her know that you were going to let it go for now. Her body relaxed and you lifted up your cup toward her.

“Cheers?” You asked with a half smile on your face. This earned you a small smile from the girl as she brought her cup up to tap yours. You smiled and both of you brought your cups to your lips, you taking a small sip while she threw her head back and downed the whole glass.

“Hey! Woah, woah, woah, take it easy! Nance!” Steve was suddenly beside you, reaching across you to try and grab the cup out of her hand.

“We’re just being stupid teenagers for the night. Wasn’t that the deal?” She glared at him before downing more punch, wiping away the bit that spilled onto her face, and shoving her way into the crowd to dance.

Steve’s expression fell a bit as he watched her leave, but his focus shifted to you. “Sorry about that. She’s just…in a bit of a mood today,” he apologized and shook his head, “but I’m so glad you’re here! I mean, I was pretty sure you were gonna bail on me considering I know for a fact that you were invited to some of my house parties last year and you didn’t show.”

“How dare I, right?” You rolled your eyes and chuckled. It’s true. You had been invited to his parties, especially after your encounter with the demogorgon had brought the two of you together in a weird but irreversible way. You would always have that experience, but you weren’t interested in changing for him. Besides, he was never the one to personally extend the invitation, instead you heard about it from someone else every time.

“You aren’t in costume.”

“Way to point out the obvious,” you retorted, finishing your first cup of punch. Steve shot you a look, clearly not trusting that you knew your limits with alcohol. “You’re joking, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it seems a bit hypocritical for the king of parties himself to be judgmental about someone else’s drinking habits.”

“Well, it’s exactly that. I don’t get the impression that you have drinking habits, and if it’s your first time drinking, you should watch yourself, you know? Can’t fault me for looking out for a friend,” he added and you bristled a bit at that last word. Friend.

“Y/n, what?” He asked, noticing your reaction. You sighed before responding, not really sure how this conversation was going to go.

“So…we’re friends now?” You asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.

Steve was taken aback, clearly confused by your confusion. “What do you mean? Of course we’re friends! Y/n, we went through so much together last year, I mean, did you really think I was just gonna drop you like all that shit didn’t matter?”

“You kind of did. It’s not like we hang out or really talk or anything remotely close to what friends would do. We’re just two people who know each other a little bit better than we did. I wouldn’t necessarily call that ‘being friends’,” you responded, putting air quotes around the final words. You hoped that your statement didn’t hurt him. It was the truth though. Your shoulders tensed as you awaited his response.

“You know what? You’re right y/n, and I’m sorry. I should’ve done more to keep in touch, and I’m not going to make any excuses. So let’s just start over, okay?” He asked, his big brown eyes staring into yours.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you nodded, not trusting that your voice wouldn’t fail you.

“Alright, perfect,” he smiled, and suddenly he extended his hand towards you, “hey, I’m Steve. I don’t know you but you seem pretty tough, and like you might have some killer fighting instincts, so I thought we could be friends.”

You laughed. Like really laughed, and Steve was beaming. You wiped away a tear that slipped from your eye as you took a breath to regain your composure. It was all so absurd and perfect and so incredibly Steve that you couldn’t help but accept his offer. You willed your palms not to sweat as you grabbed his hand and shook it, “Well, I’m y/n, and yeah, you’re right; I do have some pretty kick-ass instincts, but I can’t promise it will keep you out of trouble.”

“That’s okay because I’ve got some pretty kick-ass moves myself, so I think we’ve got it covered,” he added, smiling at you. He let go of your hand before saying “well, Nancy’s probably halfway to being shit faced, so we should probably go party it up with her while her memory’s still intact.”

You nodded as you turned to exit the kitchen, Steve placing a hand on your back as he guided you through the mess of people dancing to get to Nancy. It was fun to let loose and dance, and you wondered why you hadn’t let yourself party like this before. It felt freeing, and you felt the slight buzz from the drinks that you’d had as you let your body move to the music that was almost too loud to hear yourself think.

Suddenly, you felt hands around your waist, and you instantly sobered up, remembering a big part of why you didn’t like parties: asshole guys who were just looking for a quick hook up.

“Hey!” You shouted as you turned around, eyes met with the same piercing blue ones from earlier.

“Woah, no need to get all angry, baby. I gotta say it’s pretty hot though,” Billy chuckled as he moved his hands to grab at your waist again. You maneuvered away from his grasp, swatting his hands away.

“Can’t you tell I’m not fucking interested,” you replied.

“Baby, come on—“

You cut him off, “I’m not your fucking baby.”

“No need to be a bitch about it, come on. Can’t have a little fun?”

“She said she’s not interested, dude. Leave her alone,” Steve spoke up, having realized the position you were in. He moved to stand between the two of you, pulling you by the wrist behind him. Nancy was pretty wasted but aware enough to act, as she took your hand and pulled you farther away, weaving through the crowd to create some distance.

“Sorry, I wasn’t aware that you had two girlfriends, Harrington. I mean, I’m shocked you even have the one to begin with,” Billy retorted, taking a step towards Steve.

Steve stood his ground, knowing it wasn’t worth it to get heated over Billy’s comments. Billy just wanted to get a rise out of him and Steve wasn’t going to let him have the satisfaction.

“I’m just looking out for a girl that needs help. If you’re not going to listen to her maybe you’ll listen to a guy, okay? So walk away.”

“Whatever, Harrington,” Billy replied as he shoved Steve in the shoulder and turned around to walk away. Tommy H was hot on his heels, a mindless dummy and fair weather fan to whoever he deemed to be top dog at any given moment.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Steve caught up with you and Nancy.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Ugh, I just hate assholes, like come on!” You exclaimed, hugging your arms around yourself in an attempt to be self-soothing.

Steve opened his mouth to apologize when he realized Nancy was going back to the punch bowl. He quickly pivoted, following her into the kitchen. “Nancy, no, you’ve had enough, okay?” He said as he tried to grab the cup out of her hand again like he had earlier.

“Screw you,” she slurred, pulling her hand out of his reach and dunking her cup in the bowl.

“No, Nancy, I’m serious! Stop…Nance, put it down,” he warned, grabbing at the cup again. Nancy continued to protest, and Steve continued to fight it until he lost his grip on the cup and its bright red contents went spilling onto Nancy’s pristine white shirt. An audible gasp rang out through the party as those in the near vicinity stopped their dancing to gawk at Hawkins’ power couple’s power struggle.

“What the hell?” Nancy whispered as she stormed out of the room, and Steve pushed past you to follow, yelling after her. And just like that, you were alone. Without Steve and Nancy’s presence to calm you down, you felt your anxiety rise in your throat. You scanned the crowd, trying to find anyone that you knew moderately well enough to crash their group, and when you found no one, you cursed yourself for being such a loner. That was until your eyes met Jonathan Byers’, dressed equally un-festively, and you sighed a huge sigh of relief.

“Jonathan!” You shouted over the music, making your way over to him. Clearly he had seen what just transpired between Nancy and Steve, eyes darting back to focus on the hallway they’d disappeared down.

“Hey, y/n. What just happened?”

“Nancy’s pretty wasted and Steve was trying to cut her off and he spilled her drink on her. They’re probably in the bathroom trying to clean it up, though I doubt it’ll do any good. That punch is definitely going to stain.”

You didn’t know Jonathan super well, but you resonated with him. Both of you were more inclined to keep to yourselves, but via absurd and inter-dimensional means, ended up intertwined in the lives of your high school’s most popular couple. You saw the way he looked at Nancy when they talked, and it wasn’t dissimilar to how you looked at Steve; wanting for something that you couldn’t have but settling for what you did.

The two of you found a quiet corner and continued to make small talk, catching up on each other’s lives since you didn’t talk much. Jonathan told you about how Will was struggling, still visiting Hawkins’ Lab for appointments in an attempt to sort out his PTSD.

“The doctor says it’s some anniversary effect, and how since we’re coming up on a year, he’s just more on edge than usual. He’s been having these episodes though.”

“Episodes?”

“Yeah, they’re kind of like these waking nightmares I guess. He’s still scared out of his mind, y/n,” Jonathan explained, and you saw the pain in his expression. Your heart ached and you felt a lump in your throat as you thought about the way the poor kid was struggling. You wished you could just make it all go away, that you could erase it ever happening in the first place.

“And you trust this guy? The doctor I mean?” You asked hesitantly.

“He seems like a good guy. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like he’s being completely transparent. I guess I’m on edge too. It just seems like everyone’s bracing for something else to happen,” Jonathan added, and you felt the tension in your shoulders as he said it.

Suddenly, Steve stormed through the family room, Nancy noticeably absent. He quickly maneuvered through the crowd, reaching the front door and slamming it shut behind him.

You looked at Jonathan. “Divide and conquer?” You asked, knowing that the two of you were going to have to pick up the pieces of whatever had happened between the two of them. Jonathan quickly nodded, as you dropped your prior conversation. “Okay, I don’t have a car and Nancy’s not in a state to walk home, so you take care of her and I’ll handle Steve,” you added as you started walking backwards to make your way towards the door.

“Are you sure? He seems pretty mad.”

“I’ve handled worse!” You shouted back as you turned and swiftly made it out the door. Your eyes scanned the front lawn, still littered with people, but they quickly found the brown mop of hair that you had become familiar with just as he was reaching his car.

“Steve!” You shouted, but he ignored you, fumbling with his keys as he tried to unlock the door. By the time he finally managed to get it unlocked and opened, you had grabbed the side of the door so he couldn’t close it and drive off.

“Y/n, just leave me alone, okay? I’m seriously not in the mood,” he warned, his head hung as he tried desperately to avoid eye contact with you. His voice wavered a bit and you could tell by his body language that he was pretty upset.

“No, I’m not going to leave you alone; you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“Then get in the car because I’m not fucking staying here,” he sighed and you hesitated before moving around to the passenger seat.

“What happened?” You gently asked as he began to pull away from Tina’s house, the night that you had all been anticipating clearly ending in disaster.

“Oh, you know, just Nancy saying that our relationship is pretty much complete and utter bullshit which is what every guy wants to hear from the woman that he loves,” he replied. His announcement of his love for Nancy stung, but you pushed it aside; this wasn’t about your feelings.

“What do you mean? What’s going on? You guys always seem so happy together,” you were honestly pretty shocked. They were the perfect couple; the kind of people who would end up high school sweethearts and the talk of every high school reunion. It couldn’t possibly all be bullshit.

“The Hollands are selling their house to pay some private investigator to find Barb.”

Oh.

Your stomach dropped and suddenly your body seemed to remember the alcohol you had consumed.

“Steve, stop the car.”

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s going on? Are you—“

You cut him off, shouting “just stop the damn car! Now!” The car screeched to a halt as he slammed his foot on the brake pedal. You quickly opened the door, retching onto the desolate backroad that you were currently on. Steve rubbed big circles across your back as your stomach emptied its contents. When you were done, you shut the door, tears running down your face.

“I’m so sorry, Steve. Sometimes I just forget about all of it; push it all away because I’m not ready to handle it and I just think about what it was like to be face to face with th-that—that thing and I can’t imagine what Barb’s final moments were like and I just—“ your sobs cut you off, unable to speak through your horror in contemplating Barb’s death.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay y/n. I’m right here,” Steve reminded you, pulling you into a hug as you buried your face in his neck. He held onto you until you were able to calm down and you pulled away from him.

“I’m sorry. I monopolized your turn being the one in crisis,” you let out a weak laugh, wiping the remaining tears from your eyes as you sniffled.

“No, honestly that was helpful. I think I get where Nancy’s coming from a little better now. Maybe she didn’t really mean all that shit about us, you know?” He rationalized.

“Yeah, maybe,” you replied, your voice small.

“Hey, don’t disappear on me now. We’re handling this crisis together and we’re putting it behind us, okay? So what’s going on?”

“It’s just…I was almost her,” you whispered, looking in horror at Steve.

“What?”

“I was almost Barb. If you hadn’t shown up—“

“Y/n, don’t think like that. You can’t think like that. It’s going to eat away at you. You’re here. I’m here. And we’re okay,” it seemed like he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince you. You nodded, not entirely persuaded but ready to be done with the conversation. “Alright, where to?”

“Just mine, you know,” you said quietly, embarrassed that Steve was going to see your house. It was dinky compared to the Harrington residence. You knew he wouldn’t care, but you couldn’t help but feel inferior.

“Sure thing,” he replied as he put the car in drive, as you both attempted to put the evening’s sourness behind you. You chatted and caught up on all of the normal things you’d missed as you’d drifted apart this past year and by the time he reached your house, you felt a little bit better about things.

If only the two of you knew about the danger that was still lurking right under your feet.

***

a/n: I hoped y’all liked this chapter! I’m so excited to continue this story as we unpack all of the upside down nonsense of season 2! I’m new to this whole writing fanfic thing, so if you really liked it, I would be forever grateful if you would be so kind as to reblog it! It really helps it get to other people!

#steve harrington x reader #joe keery #stranger things #netflix #steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington friends to lovers #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington the babysitter #steve the hair harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #friends to lovers #strangers to lovers

[mint-yooxgi]

Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Slight focus on Seonghwa, San, & Hongjoong)

Words: 7,205

Warnings: Car accident, mentions of past trauma. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Here it is! The moment you’ve all been patiently waiting for and greatly anticipating!! I know the chapter is a little shorter than the usual ones, but I feel it sets the tone for the series nicely, and frames the coming parts well. I’m super excited to show you all what I have planned, and to really dive back into the world of HC and everyone’s favourite Demon Boys hehehe As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Welcome to the Paradise Gardens~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist

The sky is clear, the night stretching out around you outside of the comfort of the vehicle you currently find yourself resting in. The muted sound of the car stereo reaches your ears. Softly, the familiar hum of your favourite songs drift through the speakers, relaxing you into this moment. Stars twinkle overhead like lanterns, illuminating the earth below.

Turning your head slightly, you watch as the desert stretches on before you. That familiar little cactus in the distance gets closer and closer, letting you know that you’re almost home. Right now, it is nothing more than a spec on the horizon, but you’d recognize it anywhere. A plant of which that they’ve told you marks the barrier of this realm with their own domain.

Beside you, Seonghwa sits. His one hand rests on the steering wheel, while the other holds yours over the console between the two of you. You can feel the metal of his ring - your ring - pressing against your fingers. A piece of jewellery you have yet to see him without since you gave it to him all those weeks ago. Almost absentmindedly, his thumb strokes over your skin, squeezing your hand softly every few minutes with his own.

“Thanks for coming with me today,” your voice is gentle, making sure to keep your tone low so as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere within the sleek black vehicle.

A smile pulls onto his features, eyes shining with nothing but love as he spares a glance at you for the briefest of moments.

“Of course, My Divine,” he hums, gently lifting your intertwined hands to his lips in order to place a tender kiss onto the back of your skin. “I am always happy to spend time with you.”

“My sister absolutely adores you,” you chuckle, grin tugging at your features. “Don’t tell Mingi or Hongjoong, but I think you’re her favourite.”

Seonghwa’s one brow quirks, a teasing quirk tugging at his lips in the next second. “You’re telling me not to rub such a satisfying fact in my brother’s faces? My Divine, do you know us?”

“Oh, believe me,” you mirror his look, a knowing gleam in your eyes. “I do.”

In the back of your mind, a faint memory of Wooyoung bragging about bonding with your sister over the fact that she danced competitively throughout her teen years surfaces. Though, nothing could have prepared you for how smug Hongjoong had been after that very first dinner with your family. The way your mother kept complimenting him in front of the others was a keen topic of interest. One which he still hasn’t let the others forget.

You smile.

“She’s due any week now,” he informs you. “The baby is completely healthy, too. At least, from what we can sense.”

Your heart swells, and you squeeze his hand. A warmth immediately floods your veins from his words, tears threatening to line your vision. Ever since you made that promise to protect your little nephew in front of your family, the eight of them have sworn to help you keep it at any costs. You didn’t even need to ask them, or tell them to. It was already a given.

After all, they would do anything for you.

Already, one month has passed since you introduced them all to your family. The days have been slowly getting better, and all of the guys have been nothing but supportive and understanding with you. Not to mention patient. They’ve even slowly started helping you get into a small routine to prepare you for the start of your combat training with them. A fact of which you’re looking forward to every day, just as you know they are as well.

You cannot wait until tomorrow.

Already, Mingi and San have gone over some of the basic forms of self-defence with you. Both Seonghwa and Hongjoong have let you practice with them more times than you can count. Though, you will still never forget accidentally knocking the wind right out of Jongho’s lungs the one day when he snuck up behind you. All he had wanted to do was wrap his arms around you, but you jumped, immediately elbowing him in the chest as a shriek left your lips.

Countless apologies had fallen from your lips as he stood there rubbing at his chest with a pout on his face. The laughter from both Mingi and Wooyoung didn’t help at all, either, considering both males appeared as soon as they had heard you scream. Though, they were all glad to know that you were okay.

Thinking back on it now, a tender smile graces your features. Especially since you can recall a very amused Seonghwa appearing in the foyer with a belled collar a few minutes later. A fact of which made Jongho grumble about it as you laughed wholeheartedly, watching the elder male jingle that thin piece of black fabric in the air.

“All that’s left is to put him in a maid costume, and tell him to give himself cat ears and a tail!” Wooyoung’s boisterous laughter could be heard throughout the whole house. 

Kuroo had walked in after that, cooing loudly for all to hear.

“See, even Kuroo has offered to give you some tips!” Wooyoung had cackled, soon to be followed by his shrieks of terror as Jongho chased him throughout the hallways shortly after that with murderous intent.

“Something tells me Wooyoung is projecting,” you had mumbled to San, leaning in slightly to his side at the time after bending down to lift Kuroo into your arms.

San had laughed at that, a knowing gleam in his eyes. “Don’t we all?”

Focussing back in on the present moment, you squeeze Seonghwa’s hand once more. “Thank you, Hwa. You don’t know how much I appreciate it. How much I appreciate you.”

“We know how much both your sister and her child mean to you,” he smiles softly, turning once more to look at you for the briefest of moments. “Of course we would care, too.”

The way your eyes shine with such earnest affection has his heart racing in his chest. Seonghwa cannot even help the way his cheeks begin to turn the faintest bit of red as he absolutely revels in your tender gaze. He swallows the sudden dryness in his throat, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“Get some rest,” he squeezes your hand once more, shifting slightly as his eyes scan the desert highway spread out before you. That little cactus creeps closer by the second. “We’ll be home soon.”

You hum, allowing your eyes to flutter shut as you settle into your spot. “I’m sure the others will be glad once we’re back.”

A gentle hum in agreement is all you hear in response, echoing alongside the soft purr of the engine as you continue to travel down the road. Seonghwa absolutely adores the way you angle your body towards him, even if only slightly. The fact that he could be the one to take you to see your sister today, and spend some quality time with you alone makes him happy beyond belief.

Slowly, things are getting better. You may never return to your old self, but that’s okay. They wouldn’t want, nor expect you to. Everything that has happened to you is still becoming a part of you in some way. You wouldn’t be who you are without it, and for that, they are grateful. 

Every day, you are growing, and so are they. The best part is: you’re growing together, and from now on, you always will be.

The interior of the car is cool, comfortable as you rest further into the leather seat beneath you. Black, just like the sudden darkness that surrounds you as your eyes fling open.

It’s as if someone has thrown you into a cloud of black smoke, blocking out the entirety of the moon and stars. Your sudden vision loss makes you panic, and were it not for the way you feel Seonghwa’s hand still tightly wrapped around your own, you’d think you’d have left this physical plane of existence already.

Fear begins to seize you, your heart leaping into your throat.

There’s nothing quite like the feeling of weightlessness you experience as the car  flips off of the side of the road. One minute, your breath is hitching in your throat while the world moves in slow motion. The next, you’re standing safely on the side of the highway, cracks of dried earth beneath your feet.

Seonghwa’s grip around you is deadly, the male holding you tightly to his chest. One hand rests on the back of your head, while the other wraps itself around your waist, his breathing heavy.

The sound of the car crashing as it hits the ground finally draws you back to reality, your heart beginning to beat once more inside of your chest. Out of the corner of your eyes, you see the wreckage smouldering right beside that little cactus. It’s almost as if the front end had smashed into something to cause it to flip so suddenly. Yet, you never even felt the impact.

“My Divine, are you okay?” His voice is frantic, worry shining in his eyes as he pulls away to glance over your figure. Carefully, his hands grip the sides of your face, looking you over for any injuries you might have gotten as the car rolled off of the side of the road.

“I’m fine,” your whole body visibly trembles, eyes attempting to blink away your shock.

“I-“ Seonghwa’s words immediately die out in his throat as a low growl escapes him in warning. Instantly, he’s turned around, blocking your body with his own as he stands protectively in front of you. 

There’s no way in hell he’s going to let anyone near you. Especially not this fucker.

“Well, well, well,” a rough voice chuckles out through the darkness. The dust from the wreckage finally settles enough for you to see a male standing on the opposite side of the highway. A male whom you’ve never seen before in your life. “If it isn’t my old King.”

Seonghwa’s eyes flash, a threatening snarl escaping his curled lips, “Malik.”

Your breath hitches, worry seizing your entire body. In an instant, you’re reaching out to both Hongjoong and Yunho in your mind, followed shortly by the rest of them in respective order.

A blink, and you’re surrounded by several more familiar males, snarls pulling on their features as they turn towards their shunned general.

The male across the way isn’t very tall, but neither is he short. He stands about average height, a malicious grin tugging at his tanned features. His shoulder length black hair gets flicked out of his eyes with a jerk of his head, arms crossed proudly over his chest. Faintly, you can see the handle of a blade resting over the back of his one shoulder.

“So,” he quirks a brow, “this is the bitch you think is fit to be Queen?”

Before you can stop yourself, you blink, a disappointed sigh escaping you shortly after. Just from the way Malik shoots you an incredulous look, you can tell your reaction surprises even him.

“Seriously? Is bitch the best you can come up with?” You shake you head, swallowing your fear for the moment. “Thousands of years, and that’s the insult you choose to go with? Abhorrent imbecile.”

Wooyoung immediately bursts out laughing, grins pulling subtly onto Jongho’s, San’s, and Mingi’s faces. Even Seonghwa cannot deny the way the corner of his lips twitch upwards in response.

“Dearest,” Yeosang’s somewhat worried tone reaches your ears, but you can hear the hints of a sigh bleeding through.

“I’m just saying!” You reply, a bit exasperatedly. “He made his entrance, but it wasn’t anything to write home about. If he’s going to insult me, he best do it properly. I’ve literally been called worse by angry customers while working retail, and believe me. That was a lot scarier than this.”

With every word you speak, you manage to calm yourself more and more. It gets even better for you when you can see Malik physically shaking in rage across the way. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that steam is coming out of his ears.

You lean in a bit towards San’s who currently stands just a step behind you to your right. You cross your arms over your chest. “Are you sure that this is the most feared general you’ve ever had?”

“I don’t need your approval, woman,” Malik seethes, words but a hiss on his tongue.

Eight threatening growls answer him in response.

“Woah,” you snort, clearly amused. “Someone get all butthurt over some trash talking? Should I call for your mother to come pick you up from daycare?”

“You leave my mother out of this!” He yells, drawing the blade form his back as frustration lines his features.

“Oh, touchy subject,” you feign concern, a pout pulling mockingly onto your lips.

My Love, as much as we all enjoy seeing this side of you, Hongjoong spares a glance towards you out of the corner of his eyes. Where is this coming from?

They’re all just lucky you haven’t closed off your void yet since you called out for them.

I’ve got some pent up resentment for his life choices, you reply, rolling your shoulders as Malik yells about tearing you limb from limb across the way. Besides, Mingi told me that this fucker’s always had trouble controlling his anger. Makes him unstable in a fight. Looks like the ex-general could use some verbal cues that might make him show his hand.

You little minx, Yunho chuckles, a fond look shining in his eyes as he brushes against your mind tenderly. I think we have more than just a Beautiful Queen on our hands.

Cunning, Wooyoung grins, eyes flashing as he watches Malik’s every move.

Intelligent. Hongjoong hums lowly in agreement, the hints of a pleased growl echoing throughout his tone.

Deadly. Seonghwa agrees, a sword of his own appearing in his right hand, glinting dangerously beneath the moonlight.

Strong. Jongho adds, sparing another look at you out of the corners of his eyes as he clutches the handle of his axe tighter in his grip.

I can’t wait for the day where you’re able to join us in battle, Baby. San takes a small step forward, properly coming to stand beside you for the moment as he grins maliciously. The bottom end of his spear hits the ground, arm lax as he holds it at his side.

For now, let us take care of things here. Yeosang summons a bow to his hands, a quiver of arrows appearing immediately strapped to his back. Alright, Dearest?

We would never forgive ourselves if you got hurt again. Wooyoung’s eyes briefly flash with that same fear you saw from all of them those few weeks ago as he spares another glance towards your figure. 

Which is why you’ll be safer at home with me. 

Before you have a chance to protest, Mingi places a gentle hand on the back of your lower spine. Instantly, he’s transported the both of you back to the foyer of the mansion, Wooyoung appearing not even a second later.

Your lips part in protest, only for Wooyoung to immediately press a gentle finger against them.

“They’ll be fine, Gorgeous,” Wooyoung smiles reassuringly at you. “Nothing we haven’t handled before.”

“You are our number one priority right now.” Mingi adds, gently brushing the tips of his fingers along the side of your face, and checking you over once more for any injuries.

You melt into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as you breathe out a small sigh in relief. “I’ll feel better when I know the others are safe, too.”

“They will be,” Mingi promises. “In fact, they might be back sooner than you think.”

Almost as soon as he gets those words out, the other six are appearing in the foyer.

“Damn bastard turned tail, and ran.” San grumbles, eyes flashing black in annoyance.

“He came to make a statement,” Yunho voices, frown tugging at his features as he stares down at the ground for the moment. “He did his recon, then left.”

“He only wanted to get a visual on his target,” Seonghwa’s hands are shaking, and you’re quick to step over to him and take his into your own. The moment he lifts his head to meet your eyes, relief washes over him. “I’m sorry I even let him anywhere near you, My Divine.”

You tilt your head slightly. “What have I said about apologizing for things that are out of your control?”

“That’s the thing, Gorgeous,” Wooyoung draws your attention back to him. “This is something we should be able to control. Given that this happened so close to the boarder of our domain, we should have been able to sense him coming.”

“Perhaps he has help from Dimitri,” you offer, blinking once. “It’s clear that that warlock can cast very powerful cloaking spells.”

“Please don’t remind us,” Jongho looks physically pained as he says this, worry tugging at his brow.

“She’s right, though,” Hongjoong frowns, lips pursing into a thin line. “We cannot ignore the fact that they could already be working together. We don’t know if they’ve met  yet or not, but Miyeon was thorough in making sure we would be attacked from every possible angle. Even after her death.”

You move to lean against the desk, arms crossed over your chest as your gaze falls to the floor. Your whole body deflates, and you can feel that familiar tightness building in your throat.

A gentle hand on your arm catches your attention.

“This isn’t your fault. You know that, right, Petal?” Yunho’s gaze holds nothing but worry as he meets your gaze. A moment later, and he’s stepped in directly beside you.

“Dearest,” Yeosang is the next to move to your opposite side, hand coming up to cup your cheek gently. “Whether you are with us or not, she had been planning this for years to come.”

Cradling your elbows in your hands, Yeosang drops his hand as you look towards the floor. The way you can see the lights reflecting off of the tiles draws your attention, eyes zeroing in on that faint shine in order to keep yourself grounded for the moment.

“I just can’t help but think that I was the catalyst that set everything in motion.” Your voice is barely above a whisper as tears threaten to gather in the corners of your vision once more. “It’s the perfect excuse, isn’t it? What better time to instil an uprising than when a human threatens to stand on equal ground as gods?”

“Dearest,” Yeosang’s expression falls, quickly stepping in front of you and cupping both cheeks in his hands. “You know we don’t think like that.”

“It is our choice, our decision to crown you as Our Queen.” Yunho says, his hand gently finding purchase on your lower back. 

Softly, his thumb begins rubbing over your skin in comfort and you find yourself leaning into his touch more than you realize.

“Anyone who has a problem with that will find that we are not so merciful.” San’s voice rumbles out, low growls of agreement echoing around the room.

“We chose you, Darling.” Jongho adds, somewhat softly. “We only want you.”

“The entire Realm could burn to ash for all we care,” Seonghwa manages to get you to meet his gaze. “As long as we have you, that’s all we truly care about.”

“It’s just as Yeosang said before, My Love,” Hongjoong steps forward, drawing your attention to him for the moment. “This revolution has been in the works for over twenty years. The coup Malik and Miyeon staged was the catalyst, not you. They have used you as the perfect piece of propaganda to win more over to their side. The only hope they have to win is in numbers, otherwise their strength is a lost cause. Especially against us and all of our allies.”

Slowly, you nod your head, bringing the back of your hand up to wipe at your eyes. Luckily, Yeosang drops his hold on you just as you do so in favour of stepping in beside you once more. That’s when you notice that none of them are holding onto any of their weapons any longer.

You swallow, offering them a tight, weak smile.

“You said the harpies are on your side?” You lift your head, and though each male can still see that uncertainty swirling within your eyes, they also see that determination they have become so used to from you.

“We have a meeting with them in a few days to confirm their alliance, but yes.” Mingi nods. “They personally requested Hwa be there to solidify it.”

Jongho snorts. “Of course The Three Sisters want Hwa to be there for it.”

At the way Seonghwa smiles tightly, shooting warning looks at his brothers, your brow quirks.

“Exes of yours?” You quirk a teasing brow.

“If only,” he sighs, his cheeks dusting a light red.

“Hwa just enjoyed flocking together,” Wooyoung wiggles his brows suggestively, and you notice how both San and Mingi grin right along with him.

“Oh, they were flocking, alright.” Yeosang mumbles, eyes wide in mock exasperation.

A snort of laughter escapes you, a grin tugging at the corner of your lips as you turn to look at Seonghwa once more. “Should I be worried?”

“No!” Comes his immediate response, shouting a little louder than he probably intends. He clears his throat. “It’s been years since I last saw them, and it was never anything more than just sex,” he’s rambling at this point, but the further your eyebrows raise, the less he seems to be able to stop. “They roughed up my back pretty badly the one time, I couldn’t stop bleeding for an hour-“

“Okay,” you chuckle, raising a hand in the air to prevent him from speaking any longer. “I really don’t need to hear all about any of your previous kinky sexcapades right now.”

A loud mewl greets your ears in agreement as a black cat struts into the foyer from the direction of your room. You chuckle, watching as Kuroo walks right over to you and begins brushing himself tenderly against your one leg.

“Oh,” San quirks a brow slightly, “are you, perhaps, jealous that our eldest here fucked the harpy sisters?”

Seonghwa not-so-subtly darts his gaze over towards you to gage your reaction. It’s small, but there’s a spark of hope shining within his eyes. Finally, you might get jealous over him, just as he’s always wanted you to do.

“Undecided,” you shrug, and you see both Wooyoung and Mingi nearly trip over their own feet. “What? I haven’t seen what the harpies look like yet.”

Yunho chuckles, leaning back onto the desk you’re still currently resting on. “I don’t think she’s going to get jealous in a way that we want her to.”

You raise a finger in acknowledgement, a knowing gleam in your eyes. “Now, if any of you tell me you’ve fucked Wyno… that might be a different story.”

Suddenly, both Hongjoong, San, and Wooyoung avoid your gaze.

Your mouth falls open, scandalized at this revelation.

“And you didn’t tell me?” Your overdramatic gasp as you place a hand over your heart has a few of them chuckling in response.

In the next second, you’re jokingly stomping down the hallway and to your room, Kuroo in tow. Mutters escape you all the while as all eight of them can only watch you disappear around the corner in amusement.

“Damn demons and their damn kinks. Can’t even tell me they’ve fucked the most beautiful dragon I’ve ever seen in my damn life. Lucky bastards…”

“Do you think she wants to fuck a dragon?” Wooyoung leans slightly towards his brothers, an eager gleam shining within his eyes.

“I would love to fuck a dragon!” Your voice calls out from your room, freezing each male to their spots. “Especially Wyno, if she ever allowed me the honour!”

A harsh clearing of Yunho’s throat manages to draw them all back to the reality before them. Though, a few, like Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, San, and Jongho, cannot help the way their lips curl in jealousy.

On the other hand, Wooyoung’s shoulders begin to shake with pleased laughter.

Almost immediately, Jongho smacks the elder quite pointedly upside his head. “Do you ever not think about sex?”

“When I’m thinking about poisons and dance.” Wooyoung replies, rubbing at the back of his head. Then, a loving smile is pulling at his lips, the hint of a mischievous glint in his eyes, “or, My Angel.”

The way their gazes all flash as a specific thought crosses Wooyoung’s mind has them all turning towards him with pointed glares.

“Have you no shame?” Yeosang’s lips curl back over his teeth, bared in a snarl.

“Oh, like you are any different.” Wooyoung rolls his eyes.

“At least some of us have subtlety,” Jongho crosses his arms over his chest, still glaring at the male beside him.

“Let him be,” Hongjoong chuckles, already beginning to follow the same path you took down the hallway towards your room with San in tow. “We all have our own fantasies we enjoy indulging in. Especially when it comes to her.”

“Yeah, and you’re the worse one.” Mingi snorts, a teasing grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I never said I wasn’t,” Hongjoong shoots a knowing grin over his shoulder, eyes dark as he looks them all over. “We have some busy days ahead of us. Get some rest, her real training starts tomorrow.”

Despite no longer being in the foyer, Hongjoong can just tell that all the males have nodded their understanding. He can still sense San following right behind him as they both step into your room, already seeing Kuroo curled up on your bed. They both wait patiently for you to finish your nightly routine, seeing you walk out of the bathroom soon after in a fresh pair of pyjamas.

“Are you alright, My Love?” Hongjoong sits on the end of your bed, head briefly looking up from the way his hand gently strokes over Kuroo’s fur.

“Malik didn’t hurt you, did he, Baby?” San rests casually against one of the pillars of your room, arms crossed in front of his chest. Worry is clear in both his tone and on his features, but he makes no move to join you yet. He simply does not want to overwhelm you.

“Not at all,” you shake your head, moving over to pull your sheets back so you can slip into bed. “Hwa made sure nothing happened to me. Like he always does.”

The way you smile softly as you tuck yourself beneath the covers has their hearts warming.

“How are you feeling?” San pushes himself off of your pillar to come sit beside you on the bed, watching as you rest yourself against your pillows.

It’s become almost routine for one of them to ask you this, once when you get up in the morning, and once when you settle into bed for the evening. A fact that comforts you more than you ever realized that it would. The fact that they care, and they continue to not only prove, but demonstrate how they care for you, has helped you in more ways than you could have ever imagined. You seriously do not know what you would do without them.

“Every day it’s always a little bit better,” you reply, nothing but honesty in your tone as you meet his gaze. You reach out to take his hand in yours, of which he gladly obliges. “I have you all to thank for that.”

Hongjoong shifts slightly, angling his body more towards you as he smiles. “We’re glad to hear that, My Love.”

“We will always be here for you,” San adds, gently brushing his one hand over your own.

Your heart swells, warmth flooding your veins.

“I fear to imagine what the state of my mind would have been like were you all unable to pull me out of that darkness once more.” Tenderly, you brush against that yellow string inside of your mind, sending your thoughts and feelings of both love and gratitude his way. Yunho immediately brushes back.

“We would never leave you to suffer such thoughts alone.” San squeezes your hand.

You squeeze back, smiling sleepily before a small yawn is escaping you.

“We’ll let you sleep,” Hongjoong briefly locks gazes with San before they’re both standing back to their feet. “Goodnight, My Love.”

A soft whine escapes you, and you tug San’s arm slightly back towards you. “You both don’t have to leave, you know.”

“We know,” Hongjoong smiles softly down at you as he moves in beside you. Carefully, he leans in to place a kiss upon your forehead. “San can stay with you tonight, My Love. I’ve got a few things I need to attend to.”

“Alright,” you hum, noticing how San’s eyes being to shine at the prospect of being the only one to stay with you overnight. “Be safe, Joongie.”

The way you reach out to quickly snatch his hand and place a kiss onto the back of it has his smile stretching wider across his features.

He hums lowly, heart swelling with warmth in his chest. “I always am, My Love.”

Giving his hand a light squeeze, you let go. Your eyes follow Hongjoong as he slowly walks out of your room, shutting the door until it rests open only by a crack as he does so.

“Give me a second, Baby, and I’ll be right back,” this time, it’s San who leans in to place a tender kiss upon your forehead before disappearing into thin air. A few seconds later, he reappears in some sweats, ready for bed. “Miss me?”

“Always.” You grin, sliding down beneath the covers before opening them up for him to join you. 

He mirrors your grin, crawling in beside you and immediately wrapping you in his arms. The blissful sigh he lets out as he feels you curl into him is nothing new. His grip tightens around your waist as your head settles over his chest, resting directly over his beating heart. The way he knows that you can hear his heart racing, just like it always does whenever he holds you, has a content rumble building within.

“I love you, Baby,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut as he places a tender kiss onto the top of your head.

“I love you, Sannie,” your eyelids flutter shut, absolutely revelling in this moment here with him.

You feel comforted, and safe. You are loved. Nothing will hurt you anymore, not with your Kings around to protect you. Not with how they’re also teaching you how to defend yourself. A fact of which still warms your very soul the more you think about it. 

They will be with you every step of the way, supporting and encouraging you in ways in which you’ve only ever dreamed someone would. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

A muffled, albeit pointed mewl reaches your ears, and you cannot help but chuckle.

“Yes, yes,” you shift slightly to look at that little black ball of fluff curled up near the end of your bed. “I love you, too, my Little Doritos.”

A happy chirp is all your get in response, San chuckling right along with you as you all finally settle down to sleep.

It only takes you about ten minutes to be succumbing to the realm of unconsciousness for the evening. Yet, as soon as you do, San cannot help but to marvel at the peaceful way you rest against him like always.

Every night feels like a new adventure, even if all he does is hold you in his arms. Each time is like the first, the tingling that creeps into his body setting his soul alight with the flames of his passion once more. He cannot help the way love floods his veins as he gaze upon your sleeping form within his arms, your hearts beating as one just as they’re always meant to be.

Your love is like a blessing he never knew he could ever be granted, surrounding him in a warmth unlike anything he’s ever felt before. The best part is, you’ve only just begun. There are still plenty of years to come, and your bonds with them will only become that much more stronger. A fact which could not make him any happier than he is in this very moment here in time.

“I love you so fucking much, My Queen,” he whispers, grip tightening ever so slightly around you once again as a content rumble escapes his chest. “Always and forever.”

Allowing his own eyes to flutter shut, San relaxes further into the comfort of your embrace. A moment later, and he succumbs to his own darkness, chest rising and falling in time with your own.

Meanwhile, both Hongjoong and Seonghwa observe the wreckage of the car crash from just inside their domain. The barrier still stands strong, nothing out of the ordinary that they can sense either attempting to alter the wards, or break past them. A fact which only offers them the slightest bit of relief given the circumstances of the evening.

“He came out of nowhere,” Seonghwa recounts. “Didn’t even sense him until he was already standing across from us.”

“He’s gotten stronger, that much is for sure.” Hongjoong frowns, crouching down in front of that little cactus for the moment.

“So have we,” Yunho appears beside the two other males, taking in the scene of the crash once more.

“That’s for sure,” Seonghwa huffs in agreement, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s only been a month, yet, so has she.” Hongjoong adds, much to the other two’s delight.

“Jongho and San will begin her physical combat training tomorrow.” Yunho says, watching as both Hongjoong and Seonghwa inspect the smashed vehicle before them. With a wave of the eldest’s hand, the wreckage disappears, leaving nothing but the cracked earth beneath their feet. “She knows basic self-defence right now, but she’ll finally be able to stand on her own in a fight.”

“Once she has a handle on hand-to-hand combat, we can start training her on weapons.” Seonghwa replies, an eager gleam in his eyes as he pictures you holding any one of his swords like he’s so often dreamed.

“Wooyoung’s still upset we wouldn’t let him start her training on poisons right away.” Yunho grins, amusement dancing in his eyes as the three of them work on adding more range to their sensory wards.

If Malik so much as gets near their domain again, they’ll know.

“We all agreed to begin her training at the same time.” Hongjoong hums, eyes scanning the horizon for anything out of the ordinary. Once he finds none, he stands back to his feet. “Poison is another type of weapon. It’s no different than ours.”

“She hasn’t said much, but I can just tell she’s been strengthening her mind on her own.” Yunho’s voice draws the two other’s attention to him once more.

“How so?” Seonghwa inquires, a quirk to his brow.

“Remember how I was able to still catch glimpses of her thoughts through her void before?” His tone is level, shoving his hands casually into his pockets as both males nod in acknowledgement. “I can’t get through anymore.”

“She’s able to block you out completely?” Seonghwa asks, incredulously.

“I doubt she would be able to stop any one of us if we truly tried to break in right now,” Yunho goes on to say. “But, yes. Her void may not be complete, but it’s a lot stronger than it was. She’s getting to a point where she can begin keeping it up while she sleeps. With a bit more training, she should never incur the same mental devastations again.”

Two low growls sound from both Hongjoong and Seonghwa in response.

“We will never let anything like that happen to her again.” Seonghwa’s eyes flash, mirrored by his two other brothers standing before him.

“Never.” Hongjoong agrees, voice low and deadly. “Malik has another thing coming to him if he or Dimitri think that they have any chance at taking one of us down. Her included.”

“Our beloved is strong.” Yunho nods. “Perhaps stronger than anyone, even herself, realizes.”

Again, two low growls, this time of agreement, reach his ears.

“We should get back soon,” Hongjoong says, wiping off the front of his jeans. “Inform the others of what’s going on.”

“We also should talk to Wyno again,” Seonghwa agrees. “We need a definitive answer on whether or not the dragons will support us in a fight. If it comes down to it.”

“We also need to confirm the gorgons, but I have a feeling once The Three Sisters agree, they should follow behind shortly.” Hongjoong states, the three of them transporting themselves back home and immediately into the dining room where the rest of their brothers wait. All, except for San.

“I’m not flirting with them just to get them in our good graces.” Seonghwa crosses his arms over his chest.

“What? Don’t want a chance to make Our Beloved jealous?” Mingi quirks a brow teasingly.

“I don’t think blatantly flirting with people she knows has had sex with him multiple times before is going to make her jealous.” Yeosang replies, somewhat bluntly. “Given everything she’s told us about her past relationships, and how unstable hers and Hwa’s can be, it might have the complete opposite of the desired effect.”

“At least someone understands- hey!” Seonghwa protests, pursing his lips as he notices Yeosang simply shrug his shoulders in response.

“You won’t be able to prevent them from flirting with you, but I think it would mean more to her if you shut that shit down from the start.” Jongho mentions casually, sitting in one of the chairs after pulling it out from the table. “She spoke to us about loyalty, it’s time we proved to her ours. Especially now when it really counts.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Yunho grins, leaning against one of the side walls.

“It’s what I planned to do, anyways,” Seonghwa nods in confirmation. “Besides, we won’t be the only two there.”

“Yeah, if they get too flirty, I can just annoy them like always,” Wooyoung grins, a spark lighting behind his eyes.

“You annoy them by simply being in their presence,” Mingi laughs, the corner of his lips tugging upwards in amusement.

“Exactly,” Wooyoung tilts his head in response, that knowing gleam still shining behind his eyes.

If they try anything, you can always remind them about my threat to pluck their feathers out of their wings one by one. San chimes in, earning him laughs from both Mingi and Wooyoung.

“I will never forget their faces when you told them that for the first time,” Yunho shakes his head.

What? They kept ‘accidentally’ brushing me with their plumage. I got fed up. Even though they cannot see him, they can hear the shrug in San’s voice.

“Well, I was planning to send only Hwa, Yeosang, and Yunho to deal with them.” Hongjoong replies. “Along with Our Love. If she’s to be Our Queen, she needs to acquaint herself with as many of our allies as she can.”

“So, I can’t annoy them just by showing face?” Wooyoung pouts dramatically, pulling out a chair rather loudly and plopping himself into it in the next second.

“Just because you won’t be there to start, doesn’t mean you can’t still just show up.” Jongho hums, shooting his brother a knowing look.

Wooyoung grins back.

“You, San, and Mingi will deal with the gorgons when the time is right.” Hongjoong continues. “We don’t need another incident of Jongho scalping their leader again.”

“They stayed in line after I did.” He raises a hand as if to say ‘what about it?’. “Also, caused them to instate a much better, and more cooperative leader.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Mingi nods, recalling the first, and only assassination attempt that the previous gorgon leader had ever tried to pull against them.

“Our main problem is the sirens, the witches and warlocks under Dimitri’s control, and those fucking hunters of his.” Seonghwa sighs, rather exasperatedly.

“Perhaps we should take another attempt at seeing what Mina knows.” Hongjoong turns towards Yunho, noticing his brothers all do the same.

“It might be possible to untangle more of that jumbled mess in her mind now that Miyeon is dead.” Yunho nods, bringing a hand up to his chin as he mulls everything over. “It’s still a bit too early to tell, though.”

“There’s always a loophole to everything,” Yeosang comments, picking at his nails on his right hand.

You don’t think that we might be able to help you untangle those locked memories, do you? San asks, his question directed towards Yunho.

“You can try, but I’m not too sure,” Yunho frowns slightly. “If too many of us get involved, it might make it worse. I don’t know what other sorts of precautions were put in place, and the last thing we need is to accidentally shred right through her mind.”

“We’ll help in any ways that we can,” Hongjoong confirms. “Even if that means we let you handle this by yourself.”

“We’ll figure it out eventually,” Mingi hums his agreement. “Right now, let’s focus on training our girl, and the meeting we have scheduled with the harpies at the end of the week.”

Sounds of agreement echo around the room from all of them as both Jongho and Wooyoung stand back to their feet. A moment later, and they’ve all either transported themselves out of the room, or simply exited through the door. It is quite late, and many of them have had a long day.

Still, they cannot help the slight worry that tugs at their minds at knowing that Malik has finally decided to begin making his move. It only took a month after Miyeon’s death to do so, but the fact that he’s decided to show his face now does not bring any of them comfort. He wasn’t their head general for nothing, and whatever he has planned will not easily be foiled.

Yet, tomorrow is a new day. Malik may have a plan, but they have many countermeasures and strategies of their own. This bastard will not take them down so easily, nor will they simply just give up the fight. Not when it concerns you. Not when your safety is at risk.

You are far too important for that; they cannot, they will not lose you.

Not now. Not ever.

With everything that they are, no matter the outcome, they will protect you. They will not hesitate to lay down their lives for you, even if it’s the last thing that they ever do.

#yandere ateez #yandere au #yandere kpop #ateez scenario #ateez imagines #yandere hongjoong #yandere seonghwa #yandere san #yandere wooyoung #yandere jongho #yandere yunho #yandere yeosang #yandere mingi #mingi scenario #hongjoong scenario #yeosang scenarios #jongho scenario #yunho scenario #san scenario #seonghwa scenario #wooyoung scenario #kpop au #kpop scenario #demon au

[hxxsxxng]

SUNGHOON 박성훈 - SOULS BONDED

Word Count : 2k

Genre : Angst

Content : mentions of death, mentions of being orphaned, unrequited romantic feelings, childhood trauma reguarding lack of parental figure and poverty

Preview : When you are hanging out with your best friend, you realize you crave something you could never have

Authors note : I feel like I am becoming a dictionary because I am trying to produce higher quality work. lol enjoy!

SUPPORT BY REBLOGGING if you want

You glance over at Sunghoon sitting across from you at the dingy café table. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he sips his cup of coffee. You know that crease in his forehead all too well - it means his mind is drowning in the turbulent waters of the past again.

Sunghoon had confided in you about his childhood not long after your own paths converged. The two of you were kindred spirits, orphans with none but each other to cling to. While you lost your father at a tender age, Sunghoon never knew his parents at all, thrown from one fostering situation to another until finally aging out of the system.

In those fragile early days, you marveled at how Sunghoon's eyes would become inscrutable pools when he spoke of his upbringing. Never dwelling on specifics, but the hurt and confusion were palpable underneath his steely exterior. You recognized that look because it was the same one you saw in the mirror after your dad passed - the look of someone who had the ground torn violently out from beneath them too soon.

That shared brokenness was the tether that bound your souls. An unspoken language of deprivation and loneliness that became the basis for your bond. No matter how dire your circumstances became, you vowed to always be there for Sunghoon and not let him freefall back into that void of isolation.

But over time, that vow mutated into something more complicated. Something that kept you awake at night, tossing and turning with tangled sheets and an aching emptiness. The more you learned about Sunghoon's quiet strength, his dry humor, his latent brilliance left to wither on the vine...the more your feelings started drifting into uncharted waters.

You trace the sharp lines of Sunghoon's profile with hungry eyes. The elegant slope of his nose, the strands of night-black hair falling across his eyes, the sculptural cut of his jawline that could have been chiseled from marble. Naturally, your gaze drops to the full pout of his lips, and you feel a lush, insistent ache deep in your belly. The painful throb of yearning for something - someone - so achingly close yet impossibly out of reach.

Get a grip, you growl at yourself, shaking your head minutely. Sunghoon is your friend. He's already been through so much in this life. The last thing he needs is the weight of your burgeoning feelings muddying up what little hope he's found.

But you can't help replaying all of the late nights you've spent side-by-side, putting the shattered pieces of your lives back together through hushed conversations and shared laughter over future dreams. How his obsidian eyes would glitter at your jokes as your shoulders brushed, sending tingles racing across your skin. The way his calloused hand would linger over yours during rare instances of contact, raising goosebumps along the surface like an electric brand.

You've tried so hard to rationalize your feelings away as temporary insanity. As the inevitable yearning to find intimacy in the one person who truly sees you for who you are - the lost girl grasping just as desperately for belonging, already torn to shreds by the all-consuming need blazing through your veins.

Sunghoon's lashes sweep upwards, his penetrating gaze catching your fixated stare. You startle slightly, blood rushing quickly to your cheeks at being so transparently caught in your staring. He arches an inquisitive eyebrow and you hastily shake your head, worrying your bottom lip in an attempt to regain composure.

"Sorry, I was just...lost in thought," you mumble with an unconvincing laugh, trying in vain to ignore the thump of your pulse drumming in your ears.

Sunghoon holds your gaze for a heavy moment, his stare stripping away every flimsy barrier you've tried to build. The ghost of a smirk plays at the corners of those tantalizing lips. "I could tell. You get this look...like the whole cosmos is swirling around behind your eyes."

You snort softly at his turn of phrase, finally allowing your features to relax into a crooked smile. An attempt to retake control and deflect from the storm ravaging you from the inside out. "Pretty sure it's just the usual jumbled mess bouncing around my skull."

"Well, whatever it is..." Sunghoon murmurs, leaning forward slightly with uncharacteristic earnestness. His eyes search yours with an arresting intensity that has your breath catching in your throat. "I hope you know you can talk to me about anything. Anytime. You're..." He pauses, adam's apple bobbing, "You're the only real family I've got."

Your throat constricts at his simple yet loaded admission. For all of Sunghoon's projected nonchalance, his vulnerability was one of his most disarming qualities. He didn't let just anyone see beneath the armor.

The urge to reach across the table and pull him into a hug is overwhelming. To pour every ounce of your heart's desires into the union of your bodies and souls. But you swallow that reckless impulse, nodding mutely.

"I know," you rasp, fingers straying unconsciously across the tabletop until they're covering his hand. Ignoring the lump in your chest at the searing brand of flesh on flesh. "And you're mine too, Sunghoon. Wherever this crazy life takes us...I'll always be on your side. I'm not going anywhere."

A kaleidoscope of emotions flicker across Sunghoon's features - gratitude and something deeper, more visceral that you dare not put a name to for fear of shattering the delicate tension covering you both. He turns his hand over, intertwining his fingers with yours in a way that has your breath hitching.

In that single gesture, your vision blurs with a maelstrom of feeling. You realize with a bone-deep ache that even if Sunghoon doesn't reciprocate this all-consuming need scorching through your veins...this bond alone is more meaningful than anything you could have ever dared dream for yourself. Two souls who found sanctuary in each other's light, refusing to let it be extinguished by the gales of the past.

And maybe...just maybe...there's still a flicker of that same fire reflected in Sunghoon's gaze. A spark flickering tantalizingly behind his eyes that could one day ignite into a cataclysmic firestorm if you let the air rush in. But for now, you'll embrace this steady glow of affinity and belonging, letting it envelop you like the first warm rays of dawn after an endless night of darkness.

No matter what the future may bring, you'll bear this burden, letting it burn through your very marrow as proof of life's persisting beauty in the ashes. Both of you have wandered in shadow for far too long. It's time to let this bond guide you, however fraught with longing, into the searing light of grace.

You give Sunghoon's hand a firm, resolute squeeze. Steadying yourself against the current of want threatening to sweep you away into uncharted depths. With a smile, you hold his stare.

"I'm never letting you go, Sunghoon. We've got each other. That's what matters most."

#enhypen #enhypen niki #enhypen sunoo #enhypen x reader #heeseung #jungwon #heeseung smut #enhypen jungwon #kpop #stray kids #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen angst #sunghoon angst

[temptingfatetakingnames]

The Last Steve Harrington Part 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Hello my loves. This chapter was very difficult to write and it is very heavy. If you have no triggers please continue to the story. If you do have triggers please read the warnings carefully. I do not want anyone to be hurt by my story. I'll put a brief synopsis under the tags.

Trigger warnings: depression, suicidal thoughts, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide

---

It was late in the night; their plan had been set and there was nothing left for them to do but sleep. As if they could. As if it was that easy. Steve was on his back with Eddie tucked into his side. He stared at the ceiling. He hadn’t slept well in days but his body still refused to rest. Even though there was no immediate danger he thrummed with tension and apprehension. He had this terrible feeling –

“I have this terrible feeling it might not work out for us this time,” Eddie whispered against his neck and Steve clutched him tighter against him. His heartbeat quickened at Eddie’s words, at the confirmation that he wasn’t the only one feeling this sense of doom. They had been too lucky. Over and over, they had planned and they had fought… but they had been lucky. The problem with luck was that it always ran out eventually. He just had to hope that it would hold out one more time.

“It’ll work out,” he whispered back just as quietly. Trying to reassure himself and Eddie. It had always worked out for them before…and it would again… it had too.  

Steve awoke quietly that morning, rising out of the dream and into his new reality without blood or red skies. It felt wrong. He deserved to wake up screaming from his nightmares. Steve hadn’t known how terribly he had lied to Eddie that night. Hadn’t known what awaited them the next day. How badly it did not work out. Another betrayal, another failure.

Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and rested his hands in his lap. He turned them over and looked at the scars and callouses he had gathered over the years – the memories carved into his skin. He brushed his fingers over the bite on his left palm. Remembered ripping the bat away from Eddie and it latching on to him instead. It had torn a chunk out of him, leaving behind an ugly mess of scar tissue when it healed.

Light was already shining in the window and he could hear movement throughout the house. He got out of the bed and stood quietly for a moment, taking in the sounds. Joyce was in the kitchen and he could hear a shower running in the bathroom. Turning, he looked at the back of the mirror. Steve hadn’t looked at himself since his first night in the house. He walked over to it and turned it around; his stitches had been removed yesterday and he was curious how he looked.

The man that stared back at him was one he was starting to recognize. His eyes weren’t as sunken and there was some colour in his cheeks. The scars across his body stood out starkly, however. Jagged lines and bites of torn away flesh. Trauma that had begun in ’83 and never stopped – only escalated. A small scar was mostly hidden in his hairline, courtesy of Billy. A thin line wrapped around his neck from a Demobat, almost unnoticeable unless you were looking for it. His torso was a canvas of healed pain – with scar tissue covering his sides in large chunks. They had been too healed for the doctors to do much. Claw and bite marks from his most recent wounds had been tidied, the skin was still red but the lines were clean now and the stitches gone. Other small scars ran down his arms and legs. He had nerve damage in three of his fingers from the bat bite and he was partially deaf in one ear. Migraines and nightmares plagued him constantly and it was difficult to meet his own eyes.

Broken.

He stared at the man in the mirror for another moment before turning it back around. Closing his eyes, he brought his hand up to his chest feeling his heartbeat. Opening his eyes, he strode to his dresser and pulled out clothes for the day. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Robin had said about Other Steve in the bathroom a few nights ago. There were differences in their stories, especially from high school but everything about Scoops and after had seemed the same – just swap Robin and Eddie. It was the sameness that he couldn’t get out of his head. He needed to figure out the moment of divergence that caused them to have such different endings.

He needed to talk to the kids; out of the people he could reasonably discuss all of this with, they had known Other Steve the longest. It’s not like he could walk up to his parents and ask them for his life story. He was afraid to see the kids again though and especially afraid to learn more about Other Steve. He had to though – had to face it and them. He just didn’t know if he was ready.

When he walked into the kitchen, Joyce was at the stove and Eleven and Will were sitting at the table eating breakfast. He sat down with them.

“Good morning, Steve,” Joyce said as she put a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. The kids smiled at him; mouths too full to speak.

“Morning,” he replied quietly.

Chatter continued around him as he ate his breakfast. Hopper came in, hair still wet from his shower and took a seat at the table. Steve’s appetite had been returning slowly and he gave Joyce a small smile when she put more bacon on his plate. It was a lovely morning but Steve still had to fight the urge to scream and ruin it.

He cleared his throat and turned to Will. “Could you radio everyone to come over? I’d like to talk.”

Will looked surprised but he nodded. “Sure, Steve.”

---

Dustin showed up first.

He must have left his house as soon as Will got off the radio with him, he was there so quickly. Steve was in his room when the doorbell rang. He set his book aside and waited. Hopper brought Dustin up a moment later, showing him into the room and then leaving. Steve got up from the bed and they stood facing each other. This was the first time Steve had really looked at him. He was taller than he remembered, older. A ballcap was pushed down over his curls and Steve wanted to take it off and ruffle his hair. In another universe, he would have. His heart clenched painfully in his chest.

“I’m sorry about the code red,” Dustin said, breaking the silence.

Steve thought about what to say in response. He knew that Dustin hadn’t meant any harm. Thinking back to the panic he had felt in the moment though, Steve couldn’t deny that he had caused harm. He could tell that Dustin knew that though, his eyes glancing away and back to Steve’s.

“It’s alright, Dustin,” he finally answered.

“I won’t do it again. I promise.”

“I know.”

That got him a tentative smile.

“I brought some stuff for you,” Dustin said coming closer and pulling his backpack off his shoulder. “Some books and movies, snacks and things you might like. Will said you’ve been reading The Hobbit over and over. I brought you the The Lord of the Rings.”

“The Lord of the Rings?” Steve asked.

Dustin nodded. “By the same author, it’s a sequel to The Hobbit… sort of –” He trailed off, walking over to Steve’s bedside table and picking up his book.

“It was my Dustin’s,” Steve said quietly.

Dustin examined it closely before he opened it to the first page. Written in the right corner was ‘property of Dustin Henderson’ in a looping, childlike script. He could see Dustin’s hand grip the book tighter.

“It’s the same as mine,” he said in an awed voice, “the handwriting and placement, it even has the same rip in the cover.”

Steve didn’t know what to say to that. Didn’t know how to talk about parallel universes and why some things seemed to carry through and others didn’t.

“Thank you for the books, it’ll be nice to have something new to read.”

Dustin put The Hobbit down and turned to smile at him. “I can’t wait to talk about them with you! Steve wasn’t much of a reader. Who’s your favourite character? What’s your favourite part?”

Before Steve could even begin to think of a response to his questions, the doorbell rang again. Dustin was still smiling at him, waiting for him to answer, but Steve definitely couldn’t handle an exuberant Dustin one on one.

“We should go down,” he said instead, “and see who that is.”

Dustin didn’t seem disappointed as he turned towards the door and they both went downstairs. Will was already letting Max, Lucas, and Mike in when they rounded the corner into the living room. Eleven was standing off to the side and Dustin was just ahead of him. It felt like a moment out of a horror movie as the six of them all turned to look at him. It was the first time since the hospital they had all been together. His gaze slowly went around the room, taking each of them in. His kids; beautiful and alive and… not his. He felt on display as they all looked back at him. He crossed his arms across his chest as he felt the panic start to rise.

Will clapped his hands and all eyes turned to him, allowing Steve a moment to breathe.

“Everybody downstairs!” he called out.

“Hi, Steve,” Max said smiling as she walked by him.

“Steve.” Lucas nodded at him as he followed her.

“Hey,” Mike said.

Dustin went too and then it was just him, Will and Eleven. He ran his fingers through his hair. This was a bad idea; he wasn’t ready for them all. It already felt like too much, their eyes too heavy.

“Are you okay?” Eleven inquired.

He took a deep breath and nodded – he needed to get this over with. Will started walking over to him as a knock sounded on the door. He went to open it and Steve saw Robin and Eddie standing on the other side. Will moved back so they could come in and he closed the door behind them. Robin came right over and gave him a quick hug and a peck on his cheek. 

“Harrington,” Eddie said and… it hurt. Steve thought the way Eddie said his last name would always hurt.

He tried not to show it as they went into the basement. It was Steve’s first time seeing it. There was a big comfortable couch and chairs surrounding a television and a huge table at the back of the room with DnD stuff completely covering its surface. Everyone was getting settled so Steve went to sit down in one of the empty chairs. He fiddled with his hands as he waited for everyone to get comfortable.

“What did you want to talk about, Steve?” Dustin asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Now was the moment. Back out or keep going? He needed to know what was different about him. He wouldn’t have peace until he knew what the defining moment Other Steve had that he didn’t. He needed to know.

“Tell me about him,” he said. “Tell me about Steve.”

Shared looks went around the room before Dustin started speaking. He settled in and listened intently to the story of Steve Harrington.

---

At the end, Steve was surprised. At least in terms of the kids and The Upside Down, their stories were the same. There was still a lot of his early life that he was missing though. They were looking at him intently, waiting for him to get his thoughts together, waiting for him to speak.

“A lot of it is the same. Except the end, obviously…” Steve trailed off.

“What were you like in high school?” Eddie asked suddenly, looking at him intently. He had asked the same question in the hospital. Steve hadn’t answered then, but for some reason the question really mattered to Eddie.

“I was a sort of popular I guess, friendly with everyone and no one tried shit with me or my friends. I was on the swim team but wasn’t the star by any stretch. Most days I hung out with Nancy, Jonathan and Barb. Got closer with the kids in ’83 when everything went to shit. I wasn’t the best at school but Nancy helped me pass. Me and Eddie became friends at Scoops and Robin joined the group after Vecna killed Chrissy in her room.”

“What about Tommy and Carol?” Eddie questioned.

“What about them?”

“You weren’t friends?”

“Why would I be their friend? They were assholes.”

The room was very quiet. They all looked at each other. Back and forth.

“So, no King Steve?” Robin stressed.

He shook his head. “I don’t even know what that means.”

Eddie and Robin took over the story, filling in a big missing piece from the kids’ retelling. Robin had mentioned a bit of what Steve had been like in high school, but they told him the rest of what they knew of him then. The popular jock who ruled the school, the bully who didn’t care about anyone else. By all accounts a mean asshole. Robin told him what happened with Nancy and Jonathan and how Steve had been introduced to The Upside Down. How he could have left, could have avoided all of it… but he went back. Then getting closer with the kids… and then the rest.

King Steve. The first key difference then…but it still didn’t explain why. Why would being ‘King Steve’ make a difference in their ending when the moments before were so similar? Why? Why? Why?

“… I still don’t understand why you want me here. I’m not your Steve. I’m a goddamn coward and I don’t deserve to be here. I don’t deserve to have any of you.”

“There are echoes, Steve,” Dustin said earnestly. “Parallel universes. Not divergent, parallel. There are going to be differences, some of them big – like you living – some of them small – like your favourite colour or something – but a thread is going to weave through them all. You said yourself that most of the big things are the same. You’re not a coward.”

Steve couldn’t help but shake his head at his words. Dustin got up and stood in front of him, he waited until Steve met his eyes before he asked, “did you help Nancy and Jonathan against the Demogorgan?”

He hesitated a moment before he nodded.

“Did you help me look for Dart and defend us at the bus?”

He nodded.

“Did you fight Billy and go into the tunnels with us?”

Steve could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him. Heavy. So heavy. Tears pricked at the back of his eyes. He nodded.

“Did you get tortured by the Russians and help us defeat the Mind Flayer?”

He nodded.

“Did you fight with us against Vecna?”

He stared up at him, eyes hard, but Dustin refused to look away – looked back at him just as hard until Steve finally nodded once.  

“How does any of that make you a coward, Steve?”

“Can’t you see how that same thread was leading up to a predetermined moment where I was supposed to die protecting one of you? I spat in the face of destiny and my family suffered the consequences for it.”

More looks around the room, a question going around that no one would be blunt enough or cruel enough to ask. But they didn’t have to ask it. Steve knew what the question was. The question he had been dreading since they had torn him out of his universe and told him that every other Steve Harrington had died a goddamn fucking hero. He remembered the fear. Fear for himself and for everyone else. How chaotic everything was once the battle had started, how immediately the plan went to absolute shit.

“I don’t know why I didn’t. There wasn’t a moment that screamed ‘if I step in front of that blow, then Eleven can take him down, or if I lead away the bats, they’ll have a chance to do something.’ I was scared… Everyone was failing, struggling, and I – I could see that we were going to lose and I just…didn’t want to die,” he finished quietly, ashamed. He turned away; he didn’t want to look at them. Didn’t want to see the disappointment or the pity in their eyes.

“I don’t know what made me different from all the other Steves. I don’t know what they saw during the final battle or how they knew what to do to save everyone. I don’t know.” Steve put his head in his hands and cried. He had been afraid and he didn’t want to die, there was no other answer. No absolution. No justification. No forgiveness.

Dustin’s hands gripped him and pulled so Steve’s head rested on his shoulder. His arms came around him and he whispered, “it’s okay, Steve,” over and over. But Steve shook his head… because it wasn’t.

“So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their endings,” Dustin whispered into his hair as Steve tried to breathe.

But Steve wasn’t the snow. He was the fire and the dragon.  

---

Steve didn’t like to go out during the day, finding the sun too bright, too much. Leaving the house at night felt safer, more comfortable. He was used to the darkness. The sun was something he thought he would never see again – and was now something he denied himself.

Steve wandered the streets, lost in thought. The kids had left after he had stopped crying, he could tell they wanted to stay but Eleven and Will convinced them to go. Robin had stayed for longer, but he wanted to be alone and she had left too. Eleven and Will tried to get him to watch a movie but he told them he was tired, spent the rest of the day in bed but couldn’t sleep. He had left as soon as he knew everyone else was sleeping. He didn’t know how he would ever be able to face any of them again. He didn’t want to. Didn’t want to see the pity and sadness in their eyes – didn’t want to feel the weight of their memories and expectations anymore.

Steve tried to remember the last time he had been happy – truly and peacefully happy – and the moment that came to mind was when he thought he was dead. When he thought he was in heaven, reunited with his family. When he thought everything was over and he could finally rest. He wanted that feeling back. It was all too hard and he didn’t know how to let it go – the anger, the pain, the guilt. He was drowning in it. He had clutched those feelings tightly to his chest when he thought they were all he had left, but now they were suffocating him. But worst than the anger or the pain or the guilt was the fucking hope.

It was trying to wriggle its way in and he couldn’t take it. It hurt worse than anything he had ever felt before. The hope that he could live a happy life here… but…

His kids were dead and it was his fault.

His kids were dead and it was his fault.

His kids were dead and it was his fault.

How could he ever let himself be happy when his kids were dead? How could he ever move on and live when his kids were dead? So, the hope had to die too. He didn’t deserve it. He couldn’t accept it. Couldn’t let it in. He had to atone. Had to make the sacrifice he didn’t make the first time and set everything right.

Endings.

Endings.

Endings.  

The quarry was quiet when he arrived, though an angry wind kicked up around him as he stood at the ledge. The stars shone brightly and it was a beautiful night to die. If there was a God, he would be reunited with his family when he died, even if he was in the wrong universe. He prayed that his soul would know where to go, that it would find them. He felt bad about leaving the kids here – but they didn’t need him, he didn’t know why they thought they did. Other Steve had taken good care of them. They would be fine. He hoped that they would never find his body, would believe that he had simply… left.

He looked over the edge, at the long way down. The fear he had always felt in the presence of danger was silent for the first time. All he felt was peace. He was going home.  

Steve took a deep breath, looked up at the stars, and raised his foot.

Part 7

@just-a-tiny-void @mx-jinxous @child-of-cthulhu @goodolefashionedloverboi @awholedamnmesstbh @phoenix0bird @queenie-ofthe-void @bookworm0690 @estrellami-1 @hbyrde36 @a-gae-af-racoon @nailbatandfreak @newtstabber @novelnovella @meela86 @lenathegay @vampireinthesun @penny00dreadful @questionablequeeries @espressopatronum454 @r0binscript @seths-rogens @fruity-nerd @sani-86

Synopsis: Steve hits his lowest point after learning about the life of Other Steve. He is tormented because he believes that learning about his life only confirms that he is a coward who failed his kids at the moment he should have saved them. Nothing in Other Steve’s story explains why their endings are so different. He is tired of his guilt and wants to rest with his kids, he goes to the quarry and contemplates jumping.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #multiverse #slow burn #angst with a happy ending #the party

[itskattkm]

New York New Rules Pt. 3

Warnings: Violence, Trauma, Fluff, maybe Smut, mental health, blood

Summary: Y/N meets the survivors of the last events in Woodsborrow and gets on Ghostface's list. But there is also a darkness in Y/N wich path is she going to choose

Female Y/N x Tara Carpenter

Sorry for bad writing. I'm using a translator and hope you guys can enjoy it. Also, this is going to be a long story

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

My body began to vibrate, or rather my head when I leaned it against the window of the taxi. So let's start reflecting on the day as it went so far.

Missed therapy hour because my therapist was brutally murdered. Check.

Shit... it would take me months until I find a new one.

What happened next? I closed my eyes and played the pictures in my head through like a movie.

Been accused for murder? Check.

Have been exposed and embarrassed In front of your girl crush and her sister? Check.

Surprising meeting with Kirby? Check.

Pursued by paparazzis and "interviewed" by Gale weathers? Check.

Witness to Tara punching Gale Weathers? Check.

Was I slightly turned on by it? Double Check.

"Y/N you're good?" A soft voice brought me back. I opened my eyes and had to blink slightly because of the unexpected brightness around me. I nodded silently and looked for the eyes of the taxi driver in the rear-view mirror. I put my hand on the passenger seat and pulled slightly forward, which is why Tara who sat between me and Sam pushed herself closer to Sam to give me the place I needed. "Hey you can let me out at Pompeii Pizza" he nodded to me but now Sam bent down in front "Y/N you can't go now you have to come with us" there was that shy me I knew so good. I probably would have done anything she said, but right now? Now I felt numb. Not present. And I didn't care.

No matter what happened yesterday. No matter what happened today. I just had to go home and hide in my room. It was one thing to become suspicious for several murders but to be exposed in front of almost complete strangers and to be claimed as a crazy woman with mental problems? And on top of that in front of your crush. That was too much for me.

Although Detective Bailey had exposed me to the two and they knew now more about me than I would have liked to let them know, I asked myself the question

Why do you want me to come with you?

"Why?" I asked confused

"Apart from the fact that you are a suspect, we have to talk to the others about it. Mindy wants us all to meet at the Blackmoore," she said and her eyes darkened. Although they didn't seem particularly inviting at the moment, I recognized something soothing in them.

"So you believe what Bailey said?" I asked and did not seem as strong as I had hoped. My voice was getting quieter and quieter. Maybe we didn't know each other so well, and I was just a friend of Mindy but did they really believe that I was behind it?

"Where were you during the bodega attack?" Said Tara cautions.

Confused, my gaze met hers. No, I wasn't confused. I was hurt. Her look was cold. Anger could be seen in her dark eyes, but the way she pulled her eyebrows together told me that there was something else, but what?

"Pompeii Pizza" said the driver and stopped.

Exhausted, I took a look and sighed. I shook my head when I opened the door of the taxi and got out.

"Y/N!"

I ignored it. Did Tara really think I was behind it? I didn't like the way she looked at me. As if I were a monster... the cars on the street were getting louder and louder for me. The measurements of people who were on the streets. Confused, I looked at the floor as I slowly went to the pizzeria.

And there they were at once. A few minutes before, I felt numb and now. Now there were too many feelings. I tried to arrange it in my head like a riddle. But I couldn't see anything. Too many letters. No words. I clenched my hands into fists to feel something I could describe. Then there was this sting. A continuous stitch. I had pressed my nails firmly into my palms so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Now I asked myself. What does that feel like?

After resensood.

Pressure a pressure that did not want to disappear.

And then the letters in my head came together and the word pain appeared before my eyes.

"Y/N wait!" I was grabbed by my shoulder and expected to be abruptly turned over. However, I was surprised and that of Sam. She sighed and slowly stood in front of me, so that I was forced to look at her. I was forced not to go any further.

"I was also a patient at Dr. Stone"

With widened eyes, I looked at her and a short smile escaped her lips when she agreed to my expression with a nodding head. "Believe me when I tell you that I can imagine how you feel. But you also have to understand-"

She looked over my shoulder to see Tara. However, I did not follow her gaze. As Tara had looked at me earlier... I never wanted to see these eyes again. That look in them. It made me feel so vulnerable and anxious. I already had it so hard to keep in touch with the people around me, but I tried to stand by. And with Tara, well it won't be difficult for me to ignore her in the near future.

At least that's what I thought

"After what we've been through, it's difficult for us with new people... and how fucked that sounds, but that's what Bailey said are very violent coincidences Y/N and if we should trust you... then you have to prove it to us"

Now I felt a different feeling.

Incomprehension

"Why should I do that?"

Surprised, Sam looked at me and straightened up. She probably didn't expect this answer.

"Sam, I am not part of your group. I'm just a friend of Mindy's"

I looked at the pizzeria and looked into the eyes of my own reflection Why do I looked so sad?

"As much as I wish it would be different, but even for Mindy I am just an acquaintance from the courses we have in common. And we both know Mindy, she is also very careful when it comes to new people. After she told me about Ghostface because it was a short topic in our course and not because she told me as a friend, I knew, okay. This friendship is nothing more than an an acquaintance, so why should I care Sam?" My legs were moving. I lightly bumped Sam on her shoulder to go past her but she grabbed me tightly by my arm and moved us so that I had to meet her eyes and my back faced the pizzeria.

"Because you care," she said bright. Confused, I looked at her. Her look was gentler than before and there was this glow.

"You may feel alone. And maybe you are... but you care. No matter how bad you are feeling. How the people around you are doing... you are someone who can feel how others are doing. And as much as you sometimes have to struggle with the darkness... you still care. Even if it hurts"

Why did it feel like a description of herself?

Were we both more similar than knew? I mean, we both went to the same therapist, maybe there was something to it. But what was Sam's problem? Also aggression? Mindy had never told me in detail what happened to all of them back then. She just said that the stab movies are based on true events and the murders of last year? Well she and her friends were involved.

Of course, I had watched all the stab films afterwards, but I couldn't imagine what must have happened to them.

"Go home. Take your time. But I hope that you come to the Blackmoore and try to find an answer for all this, together with us. You don't want to be a suspect, do you? So why not find out who is really behind it?"

She gave me a slight smile and left. Even after the taxi drove away, I was still starring on the same spot. Where did I get in there?

Damn Samantha Carpenter...

These feelings which you and your sister leave me behind are too much for me.

#jenna ortega #actress #fanfiction #ghostface #melissa barrera #samantha carpenter #scream #tara carpenter #x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell #wednesday #wednsday addams #celebrity #lorraine day #jenna ortega x reader

[ragingbookdragon]

Conversations With A Stranger You Barely Know

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1K Warnings: None

Author's Note: :D -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She didn’t have to look up from the computer to know who walked into her office; with a smile, she greeted warmly, “Good morning, Lieutenant Riley. Right on time as usual.”

He grunted in return, collapsing into the patient chair.

“How’s the journaling going? Any new prompts since last time?”

“Few,” he muttered. “Wrote about when I was a kid.”

“That’s good progress. Would you like to talk about what you wrote?”

“Not particularly.”

She smiled and stood up, gathering her clipboard and pen. “Of course, as you know there’s never any pressure to share.” Sitting beside him, she crossed a leg over the other and gazed at him. “How have you been sleeping? Is the melatonin working any?”

He grunted, staring at the ceiling. “Stopped taking it.”

“Oh?”

“Started giving me weird dreams.”

“Nightmares?” she asked as she wrote something down.

“Not necessarily nightmares, not like the dreams I usually have, just…weird. Odd.”

“Any you’d perhaps like to describe?”

Simon blinked slowly. “I was driving on a road. Backwoods, a place I didn’t recognize. Just aimlessly driving.”

She watched him. “Do you remember how you felt when you were driving? Anxious? Sad? Content?”

“Unbothered. Like I was there driving because I could.”

“Alright, did anything else happen in the dream?”

“I stopped on the side of the road…a bird was on my side mirror.” Simon’s eyes narrowed. “A red bird.”

“Can you describe the bird?”

“Orange beak. Black face. Pointy top.”

She wrote something else down. “I think you’re describing a cardinal. Interesting.”

He turned his head. “What is?”

She tapped her pen on the board. “Cardinals, in many cultures and religions symbolize the…spirit, I guess you could say of a loved one who has passed. Typically, when you see a cardinal, it’s a sign that a loved one is visiting you.”

“I haven’t lost anyone. My family is all alive.”

“Have you recently lost any of your team?”

Simon looked away. “…Yeah…but he wasn’t a loved one. A friend. A teammate.”

She hummed. “Friends can be as close as family sometimes, Lieutenant. Perhaps this person was closer than you thought.”

“He betrayed us in Mexico.”

“I see…” she kept writing. “Lieutenant, do you sometimes think that despite the cool exterior and arm’s length attitude, you find your teammates closer than simple friends? That the idea of betrayal or abandonment means more to you than you care to admit?”

He kept silent, eyes still glued upwards. “Familiarity breeds contempt.”

She chuckled. “Fair counter, Lieutenant.” She looked up from her clipboard. “Tell me about a happy memory.”

He sighed. “Do I have to?”

“I can keep making points and asking questions that make you uncomfortable to think about because you’re having to admit that your values and decisions are being challenged in way you’re not fond of?”

He glared at the ceiling. “Why did Price make me come here?”

She smiled. “Because he recognized you needed to work through some things and not on your own like you usually do.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“I never said there was, Lieutenant. And there doesn’t have to be anything wrong with you in order to see a therapist. However, you cannot hide the fact that your childhood, career, and personal traumas and choices have formed who you are as a person. Even if you have worked through them by forcing yourself to be cold and unfeeling, you’re still a human being. You still have the same feelings and thought process that we all do. If nothing else, talking, helps you to let some of that sunken feeling come to the surface and be recognized and assessed.”

Simon’s expression had pinched beneath his mask, and he grumbled to himself before sighing. “I don’t like admitting I trust my closest teammates because I’m scared they’ll betray me and I don’t know if I can recover from something like that.”

She gave him a thoughtful smile. “Ghost, have you ever shared these concerns with the people on your team?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not weak.”

“No, you’re not. But you tell the stories of these men and women who fight alongside you. You seem to heavily rely on the One-Four-One. On soldiers like Captain Price and Sergeant MacTavish.”

“…Yeah…”

“Lieutenant, how many times have either men saved or defended you in a fight?”

“More times than I can count.”

“And has there ever been a time, with either of them, that in the midst of battle, you have ever feared that they would leave you behind or do you harm? Even when you first met them and fought beside them?”

Simon was silent for a long time, then he shook his head. “No. There never has.”

“Lieutenant, the fear of being betrayed is one you’ve had since you were a child. Your father, from what you’ve told of me, betrayed your trust as a child. From there, you learned you could only rely on yourself, and you have a hard time opening up to those who are there to help you too. You find it hard to trust just about anyone, especially those who are there to watch your back.”

“How am I supposed to trust someone if in the future they may turn?”

“To trust someone is to have faith in them, Lieutenant. It’s to put your faith into their hands. And you’re correct, it’s not something that’s guaranteed. Because of this, you truly may never trust Captain Price or Sergeant MacTavish, but I ask this of you, do you think that the two of them trust you with their lives? That if they were in trouble, backs up against the wall, would they call you to help them? Would they trust you when the moment called for it?”

Before he could answer, a shrill ringtone went off and they both jumped, Simon grabbing his phone as he sat upright. “Ghost…yes sir…I understand…I’ll be there soon.” He hung up and stood. “Afraid I have to cut this short, Doc.”

“I understand, Lieutenant. Duty calls. Think about today’s session, write in your journal if you feel up to it.” She watched as he headed for the door. “We’ve made good progress, Lieutenant. I hope next week’s session is as productive as today's.”

His hand pulled the door open, and he paused. “Doc?”

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“They would.”

“I’m sorry?”

Simon looked at her. “Price and Johnny…they’d call me for help.”

She smiled. “And would you be there?”

“In a heartbeat.”

#simon riley imagine #simon riley imagines #simon riley x reader imagine #simon riley x reader imagines #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader imagine #ghost x reader imagines #ghost x reader #ghost imagines #ghost imagine #ghost #cod imagines #cod imagine #cod #call of duty imagines #call of duty imagine #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #mw2 imagines #mw2 imagine #mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap #captain price #john price #price

[chaoticbardlady99]

Lethal Woman- Chapter 7 (Astarion x GN! Reader) MDNI 18+ Only

Synopsis- You and your rag tag team of heroes barely escaped the Githyanki with your lives. You and Astarion grow closer as you learn about each other’s traumas and have a heartfelt conversation about what you both want out of this situation.

CW: Smut, mentions of violence, mentions of SA, mentions of trauma

I put a start and stop for the smut just in case anyone does not want to read it 😀 thank you for reading! I have had posting paralysis and task paralysis for a week so this has been completed for a hot minute now lmao

Chapter Eight

You cough and sputter as you slowly begin to come back to life- your head is throbbing and you hear a familiar voice frantically screaming nearby. The iron, sweet smell of blood hits your nose- Astarion.

It slowly comes back to you now. You had all been running out of the crèche- you, Lae’zel, Astarion, and Karlach- trying to escape the murderous Githyanki (you did demolish their inquisitor so you understand- still sucks though). You had split off from the group with the Blood of Lathander so that they could get to safety faster while you used the weapon to destroy the Monastery and keep the Gith off your tails. You remember the way the magic had moved through the Mace and the blast shaking the ground- the monastery collapsing in on itself.

You had been running away- nearly to safety when the floor beneath your feet gave way. You had felt your heart stop in your chest as you felt gravity begin to pull you down, then something hits you- hard- and you go flying to a more stable part of the floor. Strong, hands wrapped around your arm, pulling you upright, and dragging you behind them in the growing darkness- you barely make out Astarion in the dust. Right before you were going to exit the building- it collapsed in on the two of you- Astarion was on top of you within seconds to shield you from the rocks, then you don’t remember much else.

His blood is in the air- not a lot, but more than you are comfortable with. You sit upright too fast- the world is spinning, but you need to get to him.

Astarion is not that far ahead of you. You survey the room- grateful you were born with Darkvision- and recognize that you are stuck pretty tightly up against the wall where you had found the old rusty Mace. The ceiling had caved in, but the rubble that had fallen first had allowed a tight little room to form- the wall showing the front of the monastery has air coming through it, but it’s pitch black and there is evidently no way out. You have both been buried alive.

Soldier!!!!!! Soldier- I need you to respond. You feel Karlach desperation, Where the fuck are you?

We’re in here! You show her the room and you feel her relief and instant recognition of the area, go get Gale and see if he can’t shrink the rocks down. Wyll should have some smoke powder bombs and please ask Shadowheart how to cast calm for me.

You can feel Karlach befuddlement at the request, Why do you need to cast calm?

Astarion’s feral terrified screams echo through both of your heads as it starts up again. Astarion is slamming his hands against the rocks, cutting into his palms and belligerently begging to be let out.

Got it, Soldier. Karlach’s sadness and worry mirrors your own- not as intense, but it’s there.

Karlach had grown rather fond of Astarion too- they were quick to become friends. Karlach cares for Astarion and you see that in flashes- but you see how her feelings change towards him as Astarion becomes closer with you. She sees ‘undying adoration’ for you in his eyes- you told her there’s no way. You had slept together two weeks ago.

The night after he had asked to meet you again, you agreed, but when you went, he wasn’t present at all. It felt forced and mechanical so you stopped him. Astarion became defensive and has been basically avoiding you ever since.

“Give him a minute, Soldier,” she had reassured you, “maybe you were just that brilliant in bed and he’s resisting the urge to take you all the time.”

“I seriously doubt that, but thanks.”

Another blood curdling scream and Astarion slamming himself against the rocks breaks you from your thoughts.

Tell her I’m having a panic attack. I don’t want Astarion to feel uncomfortable around everyone when we get back.

Roger that.

After Karlach is no longer communicating with you- you cast Faerie Light- illuminating the room in a soft, relaxing glow. Astarion is staring at you- eyes wide with fear and his hands dripping in blood. You slowly walk towards him and he slams himself back against the wall and bares his fangs at you.

You freeze- something in you is saying not to move because that could very well be the end of your life. You don’t think it would be intentional on his part, but it certainly wouldn’t be a fun thing to explain to the group as he pays 200 gold to Withers.

You gently set the light down and take two steps back- giving him more space. You watch as he begins to relax a bit more- his eyes seem more focused. As he begins to relax, he begins to shake and slowly drops to his knees- curling his arms around himself and hiding his face.

The room is not very big- you realize. It’s maybe only the size of a small tent really, but Astarion has told you about Cazador burying him and then being stuck down there for a year. Sometimes Cazador would put him in his tomb for short stints of time. One of the first nights you had spent time together on this journey, Astarion had talked about how grateful he was to know he will never have to be back in his tomb again.

This space must be suffocating him.

You slowly walk towards him making a point of creating some sound for him to know you are coming over. Despite all of Dahlia’s torments, she had been unable to get rid of the parts of you that were reminiscent of your parents. Your father’s kindness and patience persisted; your mother’s brilliance and strong-will had only been hiding under the surface. You also think of Tessa- who gently healed you when she found you bleeding out in an alleyway. The way she had spoken to you- the way she used the Weave to gently bring the skin back together. You had never felt more cared for in your life- more seen.

What if that would help Astarion right now?

Astarion is shaking and sobbing silently- his hands are bleeding while he tries desperately to keep them still again. His nails are cracked, chipped, bloody, and raw.

You are going to kill Cazador Szarr if it’s the last thing you do- you are going to torment him until he feels as afraid as he has made Astarion feel for the last 200 years.

At one point in your life- you had wanted to be a healer. You find it ironic that you are an assassin instead and Astarion just so happens to need both.

You know basic healing magic- enough for this at the very least.

“Star,” your words are barely a whisper, “would it be okay if I healed your hands?”

You wait for what feels like an eternity and then he holds out one of his hands to you, the other one still wrapped around his legs.

You begin to work, slowly using the magic to stitch the wounds together like Tessa had shown you. You find yourself remembering your mother singing Drow lullabies to you in the Mine when you were afraid. You would do the same for her after she had spent countless hours pleasuring horrible men. You would sing the songs to her in Undercommon as she had taught you to.

Absentmindedly, you begin to sing a lullaby under your breath as your hands gently caress his wounds closed.

When I was only, only a boy,

I saw my mother cry.

You turn over his hand and press a soft kiss to the back of it when you are finished and then guide it back to his leg- like Tessa had done for you. You gently coax his other hand into yours and begin tracing the cuts, erasing the bruises, wiping away the blood.

The time had come to pay for her sins,

The price, my friend, was I.

You don’t notice how Astarion is staring at you- watching you with so much intensity and adoration. No one has ever touched him this softly, been so patient and understanding, or extinguished his anxiety like this before. Your voice is soft and sweet. He recognizes the language and the song- Sins of the Mother, one of the old Drow lullabies.

A nest of flowers covers the place,

Where in the ground I lie.

You survey the other hand- satisfied with your work, but begin tracing the lines of his hands.

Now I'm a pile of lonely old bones,

A thousand years gone by.

You are done tracing the lines of his hand by the time you finish the song and when you go to release it, he pulls you into him by the wrist- placing you on his lap. You are stiff because it wasn’t expected, but you caress his silvery blonde locks and let him put his ear to your chest.

“Sins of the Mother,” he whispers.

You hum in acknowledgment through pursed lips.

“It’s morbid, but it’s my favorite,” you admit, “Descent to Light is fine and all, but I stopped feeling inclined to sing it when my mother died.”

“Descent to Light is beautiful, but unrealistic,” Astarion regards you for a second before saying, “I think Sins of the Mother might be my favorite too.”

As long as you are the one singing it.

You don’t think he meant to share that thought with you, but you blush all the same.

You both sit there for what feels like seconds, but is probably more like 15 minutes just in silence. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and his around your torso. Your legs are entangled as you sit in his lap and you continue to play with his hair. Astarion sighs in pleasure every so often- inhaling deeply.

“I’m sor-,” he begins to say and you cut him off with a chaste kiss. Astarion looks at you with surprise- the look on your face tells him you are equally as shocked at your actions.

You had only slept together two weeks ago and HE HAS BEEN AVOIDING YOU SINCE! What are you doing!?

YOU PSYCHO! You think, mentally face palming, but you decide to just roll with it like you actually have some confidence.

“I don’t want to hear it- you have nothing and I mean nothing to be sorry for Star,” you say with intensity, looking directly at him, “Cazador did unspeakable, horrific things to you- I will help you make him pay and I will never, ever allow him to touch you, speak to you, or even perceive you without me by your side ready to help hold him down so you can destroy him- do you understand? I promise you- I will not rest until that man ceases to exist.”

Astarion is looking at you, tears streaming down his face. His expression is open and vulnerable- for the first time, you see all the pain that he has experienced over the last 200 years. You gently rub your thumbs along his cheekbones, wiping away the tears while fighting your own.

“He will never touch you again, Astarion,” you say with a promise of vengeance to come, a finality “I vow to destroy him before he’s even able to try..”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You and Astarion had been rescued hours earlier by Gale, Karlach, Lae’zel, and Wyll- all collectively throwing or destroying the rocks holding you both captive in the ruined monastery.

You are sitting by the fire- laughing with Karlach and Wyll while Astarion turns over everything you said to him in that hellish situation.

Astarion can feel the panic begin to bubble in his chest again when he thinks about when he realized you were both trapped. He was worried for himself, but he had been even more terrified for you. Astarion had only wanted to keep you from dying- not bury you alive with him. Then he spiraled.

Admittedly, he had almost lost all of his wits- barely grasping to the idea that you were there with him and he was not in his tomb- or the kennels. It didn’t matter though- Astarion had felt his brain snap into a billion pieces and he remembers watching himself snarl at you- afraid he might hurt you, but too terrified of the situation to care.

You had responded to his reaction- not in fear, but understanding. You went back a few steps until he had sat down- head between his legs and a sobbing mess.

You came to him- asked permission before you healed his hands and sung a lullaby. Held him while he sobbed and promised him that Cazador would never touch him again or at the very least, Cazador won’t survive very long if he tries. You were there for him without anything in return- Astarion had been avoiding you for the last two weeks because of how confusing his feelings towards you are now.

You sat together and talked around the campfire every night, but he knows you have noticed him slip his facade back on and he doesn’t know whether to take it back off or not.

Astarion wants to have sex with you again, but he also doesn’t want you to only see him as sex which is confusing because that was sort of the point of the plan. Astarion would provide you with irreplaceable pleasure and you would provide him with protection- good sex can be hard to find so that’s the most valuable thing he has to offer. Except he doesn’t want it to be transactional anymore, Astarion wants it to be a way he connects with you intimately- a way to worship you. Astarion makes himself ill with the thought- what the hells is happening to him!? He has only slept with you once!

He also isn’t entirely sure if that icky feeling will ever go away from him- despite how much he enjoys being intimate with you. It’s different with you and it feels more like how old writers describe the activity- a collision of two souls combining to feel like one. Then he remembers what Cazador has made him for- casual sex, prostitution. Astarion wonders if you feel the same and maybe that’s why he’s over here in front of his tent instead of next to you at the campfire- agonizing over wanting to be near you, but also too scared to know if you also see him the way Cazador does.

Today gave him a strong, happy feeling that you don’t and maybe there is some hope there. Maybe Astarion can have more out of this life than he thought he could.

Astarion is being pulled towards you, lost in your orbit, abandoning his book and his spot in front of his tent altogether. Astarion is hopelessly needy for your presence right now.

Suddenly, he’s awkwardly standing behind you looking at the seat next to you- unsure of how to ask if he can sit. Karlach finally pipes up- looking at him with amusement and holds up her bottle of alcohol.

“Hey Fangs!” She says loudly, “come to join the party?”

You whip around and look up at him- your cheeks are flushed from the alcohol and you pat the spot next to you. He can’t help but smile as he sits. Karlach wiggles her eyebrows at you and you throw a roll at her- she cackles as the roll hits her and immediately crisps.

“That’s just a waste of food, Soldier,” Karlach says with exaggeration and a victorious laugh, “GALE! Our fearless leader is ruining your food!”

A distant scream is heard and gets louder as Gale comes storming over, exasperated, “EXCUSE ME!?”

You feign distress, “I know- how thoughtless of me! I just wanted to toast a nice roll to go with my wine.”

“I’ve been reduced to nothing but an oven,” Karlach fake cries and you keel over laughing.

Astarion is a bit jealous of Karlach to some extent. He knows there isn’t a romantic interest there, but if you weren’t with Astarion, you were sleeping in Karlach’s tent. Far apart (he had checked), but still. You often went hunting together, exploring together, and have lots of inside jokes. He is jealous of the emotional intimacy you guys share because he knows you share that with him too. He likes Karlach- so at least she isn’t the worst to share with.

Shadowheart and Lae’zel are very close to you as well, but Karlach is the one Astarion knows he is sharing your heart with. You love her as if she is your own kin.

“I wonder,” you say with a slur, “how hard would it be to kill Zariel or Mizora?”

Wyll rolls his eyes and laughs at your question, “why? Do you plan on storming the Hells and releasing us from our chains?”

Astarion wasn’t surprised when Wyll warmed up to you. You had been kind to him when he was changed into a fiend. You understood that his reasoning for taking the contract was personal- Wyll had briefly mentioned his family. Anyone- Astarion included- who tried to make a jab at Wyll was scolded by you. Now that he knows more about your family, he is less bitter about it and you also rip Will a new one (with much more anger, in fact) when he insults Astarion. When Wyll had made a jab at him and brought up eating rats- you had pushed Wyll into the river in the Owlbear cave and right into a disgusting bit of Owlbear waste floating on the bank. Wyll makes lots of jokes about Astarion, but he has never mentioned the rats again.

You shrug, “why not? I have favors to cash in from Obhark anyway- might as well put them to good use. It’s not like I’ll be doing anything other than working after all of this is over anyhow. The Hells might be an interesting vacation prospect.”

“Or you could leave the Nightmasks and we could all just travel together forever!” Karlach exclaims.

You shake your head at her sadly, “No one leaves the Nightmasks.”

“How come?” Wyll asks, “if you don’t mind sharing some?”

You raise an eyebrow at Wyll and take a long sip from your bottle of wine before passing it to Astarion. Astarion watches your every move- hangs on your every word.

“Well Mr.Monster Hunter,” you tease, “any time someone attempts to permanently leave the Nightmasks, Obhark- the Faceless- calls for a hunt with a boon- a favor that you can cash in at any point- provided it’s reasonable.”

“In what world do Master Vampires give out boons?” Astarion finds his voice again, bewildered.

“Good question, wish I could answer it for ya” you state with a shrug, “he’s had a hold on Westgate for centuries. Although I work for him- I’m not particularly fond of him. He’s horrible to his consort- my Ward. He beats her, rapes her, etc. Swears up, down, left, right, and sideways that he loves her and he buys her fancy things, but….”

You shake your head before continuing, “anyway- if you are the one who kills the individual- you win the boon. He always does that for the ‘suicide mission’ contracts. Obhark will offer them for other types of contracts- sometimes easy ones- if the need is urgent enough. Outside of the Deathbringers- the assassins and thieves rarely participate due to how dangerous these contracts usually are.”

“How many do you have, Soldier,” Karlach muses, “ten? Twenty?”

You pause and you look slightly uncomfortable, “I have 110.”

The silence is extremely thick in the air. All Astarion thinks about is that there was 110 times possibilities that he almost never got to meet you.

“Dahlia started making me take those contracts the minute I became a Deathbringer,” you look at your feet, “I have a 100 percent success rate- obviously.”

Karlach seems to understand that you don’t want to go further on that particular part so she interjects before Wyll can ask more questions.

“Do you have any friends or do you all hate each other’s guts?”

You snort, “I suppose you could call them ‘friends’. Everus is a human shade who steals my shit all the time, breaks into my home, and then wonders why I don’t have anything there. Then there’s Lucia who’s been with the guild for 500 years give or take. She trained me after I became a Deathbringer. Ghost is… the weirdest of them all. He is some sickly man who has a ring of regeneration, but he’ll go from one corpse to the next and just use those to fight. Draegan is a fucking asshole who refuses to leave me alone and likes to show off more than he likes living. I hate when we are assigned stuff together- it’s usually me fixing every fuck up he’s made while trying to drag his half alive body away and keep myself alive.

“There are others like Rinara who I just don’t fucking like on principle alone- too murder happy. I’m the oddball- I actually don’t enjoy killing people for fun. I’m,” you put the next part in quotes, “too ethical.”

“They sound like an…. Eclectic group.” Wyll says with his eyebrow raised, “and if you don’t like killing, why are you there?”

You simply shrug and look up at the stars.

“You don’t always get a choice- I feel like you know that as well as I do.”

Wyll nods in agreement and gives you an empathetic look. Astarion just takes you in- watching the fire flickering across your face- kissing every corner of your skin. He’s never been so jealous of a campfire- he wants to be the one memorizing your skin and tracing your features.

Karlach interjects, “I’m still held up on the whole- ‘House’ thing. You have a house!?”

You, for whatever reason, look incredibly uncomfortable with the question, but you smile at Karlach anyway.

“Yeah, just a townhome in Baldur’s Gate. It’s in the Upper City, but I’m never there so I usually just pay whatever and if I end up in Baldur’s gate I’ll stay there,” you shrug your shoulders, “I was going to sell it after my last contract but I was very rudely interrupted by Mindflayers.”

“Why would you sell it!?”

Karlach is bewildered and admittedly so is Astarion. Upper city Townhomes are beautiful- he used to wonder what it would be like to own one or even just walk into one. Astarion wonders if he’s ever walked by your town home while you were there- did your paths ever unknowingly cross?

“Um well,” you pick at your nails, one of them bleeding as you rip it off, “I bought it because my late girlfriend had really wanted to move there after I had a bit more freedom, but evidently, it didn't last very long. She was the artistic one in the relationship so I only have a mattress in the damn place. I thought buying it might bring some part of her back, but it was a stupid thought.”

This is the third time Astarion has encountered Tessa in a conversation with you. You barely bring her up and if he tries to lead you in that direction- you pivot and shut down. He knows what your last image of her was.

“I don’t think that’s stupid,” Karlach says softly, “what happened to her?”

“ I was allowed to be with her, but it came with extra curricular torture activities,” you clear your throat, Astarion winces at the defeat in your voice, “My ‘mentor’ had one of her assassin’s kill her. It was brutal. Dahlia gave me a fake contract in the same sewer system she lured Tessa to. I heard her screaming and I was the one who-“ you take a shaky breath, “found her. I- I don’t really care to talk about it much. It was halfway my fault- I should have been keeping a closer eye on her. She was trying to blackmail Dahlia so I didn’t have to join the Nightmasks because if you are unwilling- they’ll release you. It’s the only chance you have of getting out alive if someone tries to force you into it- the Nightmasks don’t want to have the reputation that you have to be forced to join. I was just too terrified of Dahlia to say anything so Tessa took matters into her own hands and well, she’s dead so how well did that really turn out- truly?”

You try to laugh it off and Astarion watches one stray tear roll down your face as you take another swig from the bottle. In what world could that be your fault? Astarion doesn’t blame Tessa for trying- if he was in her shoes, he would have probably ended up doing the same thing. Especially knowing how cruel Dahlia is.

“I met her close to the end of my first year living with Dahlia,” you smile softly to yourself, “she worked in her family's local Alchemy shop that Dahlia would send me to while training at a local Warlock guild. I was horrifically smitten and she knew it too. She used to hit on me every time and I would just grab my stuff- turn around and race out of the shop,” your laugh is melancholic, “then she found me bleeding out in an alleyway one time and she somehow was able to get me into her dorm, took care of me, and when I woke up the next morning- I panicked and left.

“I felt a bit bad- Dahlia was not thrilled so I disappeared for a few days,” you say slowly, Astarion knows what probably happened during those three days, “then when I was sent back to the Alchemy shop a week later- I brought this giant bundle of wildflowers. I grabbed every one I could find that even remotely reminded me of her and I don’t know? I guess it just evolved? She always wanted to move to Baldur’s Gate- she’d talk about how beautiful our townhome would be and she had all these plans. I could have given a shit less as long as she was there.”

“Look at you, Soldier!” Karlach exclaims, “how romantic of you! First flowers and then a whole ass townhome? I wish I had met you a few years prior to Gortash selling me off!”

“Oh shut your mouth, it’s not like it was a big deal,” You are bright, bright red and you scoff, “I had just overheard her complain to her sister that all the ‘suitors’ brought her ‘normal’ flowers and she felt like it was lazy. I merely went for a stroll- it wasn’t that hard so I don’t know why they never got the hint. She wasn’t necessarily quiet about it, but she also told me later she had been so loud about it because she was hoping I might listen and do something with that information.”

You are shaking your head and smiling in spite of yourself. He is going to have to add ‘Romantic’ and ‘Thoughtful’ to the list of personality traits you harbor. Astarion is trying to ignore his thoughts wondering which flowers would remind you of him.

“At any rate-“ Wyll says, “at least you now have a few reasons to visit Baldur’s Gate more often now?”

You are practically beaming, “this is true!”

You sigh and look up at the stars with a sad smile, “who knows- maybe I’ll change my mind. There is like four bedrooms so-“

“CAN I MOVE IN WITH YOU!?” Karlach bursts, “if I don’t, ya know, combust.”

You smile brightly at the question, “you can, but I can’t promise Everus won’t try to steal your shit. You are welcome to light him on fire if he does. Fucking asshole keeps stealing my produce at the compound- haven’t caught him yet, but when I do it’s game over for him.”

It’s the most bizarre complaint to have if you live amongst a group of feared Assassins, thieves, and vampire generals. Astarion catches how Wyll looks over at Karlach with hope and smiles- appearing to be thrilled that she asked you to let her stay with you in Baldur’s Gate. Wyll is smitten and from the look on your face when you look between the two of them- you see it too. Karlach glances at Wyll and looks at you shyly.

Adorable, Astarion thinks sarcastically, they’ll be a real joy to live with when this is all over.

He freezes. What did he just think?

Astarion doesn’t know why he’s automatically assuming you’ll be gracious enough to let him live with you when this is all said and done. Why is he already imagining exactly how he would decorate the damn place? You had bought the apartment 5 years prior to him to resurrect the memory of a dead ex-girlfriend and he’s more than likely a fleeting fancy until you realize someone like (and he hates to admit it) Gale or Shadowheart would be a more appropriate choice of long term partner than him. Astarion has managed to inflate and then immediately deflate himself- hope is a fickle thing.

Wyll and Karlach get up, saying they need to go clean their armor, leaving the two of you sitting in silence. Astarion feels like he’s about to start unraveling at the seams being with you alone- it’s like he wants to weave himself into your bones so that he never has to know what it feels like to be without you again.

Today has been… a bit eye opening for him and he is trying to resist the urge to push you away despite how freaked out he feels about his very very strong feelings of adoration for you. Astarion does have a plan to execute (or so he keeps telling himself) and he’s about 2 weeks behind.

“You could live with me too you know,” you say in a whisper, “ I get plenty of contracts in lots of places that make a hefty amount of coin. Silverymoon, St. Carwell’s Vale- they have a pirate cove nearby and they are very fun to drink with or so I’ve been told, there’s the merchants in Melavunt on the Moonsea, Menzoberranzan…”

You look at him coyly, he wants to kiss the look of fear and anticipation of rejection off your face.

“I guess what I’m saying is that I would split the money with you and you could travel the world without any real obligation. With me? If you wanted! That is… or by yourself. I mean the Nightmasks could always use more talented Thieves… wouldn’t be my first recommendation though.”

“Darling, I would love nothing more than to steal from every person in Westgate with you,” Astarion smiles glumly, “but I don’t know how good of a travel companion I’ll be if we can’t be out during the day.”

“I’m not worried about that,” you state matter of factly, “you forget that I’m an excellent assassin and I also happen to know the location for a Ring of the Sunwalker. I have more than enough ‘boons’ to try to haggle for it or at least commission the creation of a new one. If that doesn’t work- I have too much money in the bank anyhow and some favors in different cities.”

Astarion is trying not to gape at you. You’ve just offered him an opportunity to travel around the world, make money, a place to live, and a way to be in the sun when this is all over. Not to mention- you. You are extending him an invitation to remain by your side.

“You don’t have to answer right now,” you say quietly, rubbing your arm awkwardly, “either way, I’m still going to get that ring for you. It’s not right that we are basically going to save the world and you can’t even keep the whole walking in the sun thing.”

“Why? I-“ he starts, “I don’t deserve any of this. What you are offering me is… an enormous debt that I could never repay.”

“You wouldn’t have to repay me and you do deserve it. You deserve the world, Astarion,” you swallow thickly before you look him in the eyes, “I would just be happy to have you there. I enjoy fighting with you and spending time with you- I feel safe for the first time in a long time…And besides, I need someone to rough up some pirates with. I’ve been itching to go, but I wouldn’t even know how to fit in.”

Astarion smiles widely and flashes you a flirtatious look,” I don’t know if you heard, Darling, but I’m an incredibly charismatic rogue with a love for pickpocketing.”

He leans in closer until his lips are barely touching yours- he relishes in the way your breath catches. Astarion basks in what your future together would look like and he lets himself hope for the first time in a long time. Every part of his being wants him to run and not trust you, but your eyes won’t let him go.

“And you,” he breathes, “are the most bewitching individual I have ever met with an incredible prowess for killing. I think we’ll fit right in.”

“I suppose you are right,” you whisper, lips hovering over his, “how silly of me to assume we would need help fitting in.”

“Truly a mistake on your part, Darling.”

“Quite the blunder indeed.”

Astarion presses his lips against yours, gently tangling his hands in your hair to pull you closer- making it more intense and needy. The fire doesn’t begin to compare to the way his body feels when he is with you like this. He doesn’t know how your lips move in sync with his as if the two of you have been exchanging kisses with each other your entire lives.

Time doesn’t feel like it exists right now and that scares him. He feels like he could melt into you and continue to just have you this way for the rest of his immortal li-

“ASTARION AND ROWAN- SITTING IN A TREE!K— I-!”

Nevermind- moment ruined.

“KARLACH!!!!!”

You are up and sprinting after her at a breathtaking speed- a new bread roll in your hand. Karlach is running away with her cackle being carried in the wind.

The entire rest of the camp is staring at Astarion like he’s grown an extra head in the last two seconds. He smiles and waves awkwardly, “Uh hello.”

What in the damn hells is happening? When did he become some shy, smitten school boy!?

“I knew it!” Halsin exclaims with a belly laugh, “ha! The eyes can never truly hide what the soul desires!”

Oh Gods- he might have made a mistake not asking you to just go with him to his tent. Is this how those gross couples in Baldur’s Gate end up in these situations? You just get lost in the fucking moment and the whole world gets to see it?

Lae’zel scoffs, “tsk, if this is going to become a thing- keep your bizarre mating rituals inside your tent.”

Astarion has to fight hard to shove the embarrassment down and puts on his suave facade.

“Oh please, Lae’zel,” Astarion drawls, leaning back on the heels of his hand, “ if you are jealous of me, just say so.”

Lae’zel throws the sword she’s sharpening to the ground and storms off in the opposite direction of Astarion. Maybe he hit the nail on the head a little too hard.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You, Shadowheart, Lae’zel and Karlach are laying in Karlach’s tent- giggly, drunk, and stupid (Lae’zel isn’t giggly or stupid, but she certainly isn’t sober). You had come back to camp and Shadowheart told you that Astarion had run off looking embarrassed after you left. Apparently Lae’zel and Halsin had given him a hard time.

“Tsk, if the spawn cannot be proud of his affections for you then he does not deserve it at all.”

You are burning red, “he does not have ‘affections’ for me Lae’zel!”

“Well whatever he is feeling,” Shadowheart quips, “it’s pretty damn close. He looks at you like you are some kind of walking Goddess in physical form.”

“You guys need to stop,” you pretend to be serious, but you are so giddy at the idea of him being as smitten with you as you are him. Astarion is beautiful in every way- even when he is being a pill.

“No way Soldier,” Karlach clicks her tongue, “I thought I might explode watching the way he kissed you. I wanted to switch places with you even!”

It was a beautiful kiss. You want more time doing that- you don’t care if it goes further nor do you need it to- the feeling of his lips on yours is enough.

“Have you guys…” Shadowheart flashes you a mischievous smile, “had sex yet?”

Your reaction must have been enough because Karlach cheers and Shadowheart looks slightly crestfallen.

“I told you Shadowheart!”

“I’m in shock! I thought I knew them better than that,” Shadowheart sighs, “but you must tell us- what was it like? How was it compared to previous experiences?”

You don’t want to tell Shadowheart that this was your first time having consensual intercourse. You and Tessa had begun fooling around towards the end, but it was cut short before it could go further.

“He was very gentle,” you whisper in embarrassment and dream like bliss, “and caring. It was… amazing.”

Karlach and Shadowheart are chattering excitedly, talking about all the cute underwear you are going to need to buy in Baldur’s Gate. Lae’zel continues to scoff- she doesn’t understand the reasoning behind spending so much money on fabric when the ‘Spawn’ will probably tear them off anyway. You have to redirect yourself from the thought- you do not need to be turned on right now.

Besides- you are still entirely unsure if he is even in the same headspace as you. Shadowheart did inform you when you first came into camp that Astarion is a flirt and that they had had a very wonderful make out session together the first night of camp. Shadowheart had disliked you for a bit when Astarion’s attentions turned elsewhere, but the whole thing had disappeared. Well until now.

“He really is an incredible kisser,” Shadowheart reminisces, “with everything his hands can do over clothing- Shar help me- I can’t even imagine how it would feel to have him touch you naked. I’ve been with men like him a few times- it can get incredibly kinky and never boring. It is a shame that he and I didn’t mesh as well to begin with. Maybe I should try again- I mean who knows, it would give us something fun to share.”

“He’s not a thing to share, Shadowheart,” you say tersely, “and I wouldn’t be open to that, ever.”

Shadowheart’s smile falters for a moment. You realize that she had expected you to be open to the idea.

“He might and I’ll be here. Men like him get bored of the same old thing eventually,” Shadowheart waves her hand around non-chalantly.

Karlach notices you wince and she holds your hand in hers- giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it go. Shadowheart has been in a particularly foul mood since Astarion kissed you earlier in the day. Ever since, she’s been piss drunk and pointing out everything you have ever told her you were insecure about. You are grateful you didn’t tell her Astarion was your first.

You know Shadowheart is drunk, but it still worries you. Astarion is not an object to share, he is a person, but you also know that Shadowheart is beautiful and well versed in sex.

Astarion is also beautiful and well versed in sex.

You are not.

Karlach knows that the Shadowheart thing is somewhat of a sore spot- not because you wouldn’t be happy for them, but because she is so much more- well everything- than you could ever dream to be.

She is also brilliant to look at with her raven hair and blue eyes. Smart, tough, and fluid- cool girl. There isn’t a single scar anywhere but on her cheek and she doesn’t even remember her past so he wouldn’t have to be so accommodating.

I can see you going there, Soldier. She’s just drunk and jealous.

You and Karlach had ultimately come to the conclusion the third week into this journey that Astarion’s flirting towards you was genuine and that he did not seem to have eyes for Shadowheart. Karlach insisted that you spy on their interactions (there hadn’t been a single one and it was a waste of a rest day). You always wonder though when she makes comments like this- Karlach and Astarion being the only two to know you were a virgin up until 2 weeks ago.

“Soldier and I are going to go get more beverages,” Karlach announces, “we shall be back with the goods!”

You follow Karlach out of the tent and she grabs a third of a bottle of whiskey out of her bag- sitting next to the campfire and taking a sip. She pats the spot next to her and she offers you the Whiskey. You take a massive sip- trying to avoid becoming emotional over your frustration and self-loathing.

“I really like him,” you whisper.

“I know Soldier,” Karlach says empathetically, “Shadowheart doesn’t always seem to read the room very well. She is right though- he does watch you flutter about camp and stare at you as if you are a Goddess to be worshipped.”

You roll your eyes at her, “first of all, I don’t ‘flutter’ about anywhere. Second- she has history with him, barely, but enough for her to be pissed. Third- the man has literally avoided being alone with me for the last two weeks!”

Karlach snorts, “oh please. You want to know why he’s avoiding you? From quite literally everyone else’s perspective in camp.”

“Fine,” you huff.

Karlach takes another big swig from her whiskey and passes it back to you.

“Astarion isn’t a feelings guy- he’s a total flirt and to some extent, not overly trustworthy,” Karlach says, “but today? I had tried to hold him back when he went running to get to you. I didn’t know he knew misty step, but it didn't matter- the way he screamed your name when we all saw you start to fall was haunting. I think his feelings for you are just too… overwhelming and confusing for him to navigate. He refuses to leave your side- no matter how pissed off he may be. Hells- that little lover’s quarrel you had at camp that one day looked like it derailed him entirely. Three whole days he was constantly in the background trying to make sure you were safe. I was shocked you didn’t notice- not even once.

“ You are also the only one in camp he actually keeps his word to or does things for and it’s not with a hidden meaning either- I mean you had to have noticed that almost anything you even so much as mention needing you suddenly have. At first all the studying seemed methodical, but it’s changed.”

“I didn’t realize that’s who was getting or doing that stuff,” you say with relief and realization. You thought you were going crazy- did you always have this stuff? Did all of your stuff always have a lack of holes?

“To be fair, I just figured it out because we were stuck at camp together the other day. He must have heard me chastising you for your sleeping accommodations because before I know it- he’s in my tent, telling me not to say anything- embarrassed mind you, and stitched up all the holes in that Gods awful bed roll of yours,” Karlach chuckles to herself, “He wants you just as much as you want him.”

You stare at her as you try to believe her words. You want to believe them, but you are far too scared to. You have been avoiding people- blaming it on Dahlia despite being free of her for almost a year. You know it’s because you don’t know if you are good enough.

Karlach gets up and yanks you up onto your feet and out of your mind- earning a yelp from you from the contact. She lets go of you and offers a sheepish smile.

“Now go, my short but mighty friend,” Karlach says with bravado, handing you the bottle of whiskey, “do not be without any further!”

You leave the campfire (giving Karlach a brief fist bump) and walk to the opposite side of the camp where Astarion’s tent is. Just as you are about to knock on the wooden post, he opens his flap with a knife in hand that he is inspecting. Astarion looks surprised to see you.

Astarion recovers his composure, “hello, Darling! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Oh um- I,” you stammer and ultimately don’t know what to say, “I didn’t realize you were leaving- I can go and-“

“No- stay!” Astarion says quickly, grabbing your wrist as you go to turn around, “I was just going to sit by the fire anyway.”

Where Karlach and I are were? You fight the smile threatening to form on your lips, Convenient timing.

You look at him shyly, “well we could still go sit by the campfire if you want?”

“After today’s events?” Astarion scowls playfully, taking your hand, “I would much rather be able to focus all my attentions on you and not everyone gawking.”

Before you can say anything, Astarion pulls you into his tent and closes the flap. Astarion is fidgeting with his blanket and bedroll before gently guiding you to lay down on them. He looks at you with an awkward, anxious smile gracing his lips. You suppress the giggle that threatens to escape your lips- you are happy that he seems just as nervous as you are.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion lays down next to you and you cautiously curl yourself into his side with your head on his chest- your left arm and leg draped across him as your head lays where his quiet heart lies. Your happy sigh fills him with joy. Astarion traces circles on your back- enjoying the simplicity of the moment.

Astarion waits for you to pull at his clothes, seduce him, or at the very least ask him to fuck you. You don’t though. You lay there, unmoving and content. Weird.

“So- four whole bedrooms?” Astarion ponders out loud, “and you only have a mattress?”

You grumble, “I knew that was going to be brought up.”

“Darling, it’s a town home in the upper city and you only have a mattress! Of course it was going to be brought up!”

“It was the only one for sale- there wasn’t anything small anywhere. I checked at least a half a dozen times,” you grimace, “but I needed somewhere and I didn’t want to set up a permanent residence in Westgate so I just bought the damn place.”

“Where were you planning on moving?” Astarion inquires, “since you were visiting with the intentions of selling it?”

“Honestly? I wasn’t sure,” you say dreamily, “I was thinking of Neverwinter, Iceland Dales, Silverymoon, Waterdeep, Menzoberranzan, or maybe a short stint in Candlekeep. I can’t read common, but I would love to be able to explore their library. I’m sure they have something in Undercommon that I can read.”

“Those are all wildly different locations and climates, my Dear,” he says teasingly while placing a kiss on top of your head without thinking.

You shrug, “I’m just very complex.”

“And apparently travel a lot.”

“I try not to make it a habit of staying in the same place too long. Eventually the loneliness in a familiar place loses its novelty,” you sigh, “I just do whatever work is around the area until I get a contract. Typically I get up and leave after that then start the process over somewhere else.”

“What kind of work in the area?” Astarion says while absentmindedly untangling your hair with his lithe fingers.

“Farm work, guard duty, hunting,” you hmmm as you think, “head hunting, cleaning and bartending depending on if I am able to get a job at a local inn.”

Astarion busts up laughing at the idea of you of all people being a bartender. You hate being perceived- let alone talked to by strangers. You would have easily been Cazador’s worst nightmare.

“What’s so funny!?” You exclaim, keeping your lips in a serious line.

“Oh nothing, Darling,” Astarion quips, “I can’t even begin to imagine you as a bartender.”

You prop yourself up to look at him- you are frowning.

“How so?”

“Darling,” he says snickering, “you looked like you were going to have a homicidal meltdown when that man at the Grove ‘looked at you funny’. You quite literally scared the piss out of him.”

“Because he looked at me funny! Lae’zel agreed.”

“Oh yes,” Astarion says while rolling his eyes, “because Lae’zel is the most reliable judge of social situations.”

“I happen to think she’s the best- I mean you saw how well the crèche went today, right?”

“Sometimes I forget that narrowly escaping death is your definition of ‘well’.”

You shrug, sitting up briefly to take a sip out of the open bottle of whiskey.

“I have relatively low standards when it comes to fighting Githyanki.”

“Ah,” he huffs in acknowledgement, “I forgot- Whalebone Spice blood. I suppose they weren’t necessarily the most attractive creatures to begin with, but to taste like that? How embarrassing.”

You are midswig of alcohol when you begin to snort from laughter and proceed to choke so hard on the whiskey that some of it sprays from your mouth and onto Astarion’s shirt. You are absolutely mortified and you cover your face with your hands, slowly getting up. Astarion doesn’t know whether to be upset or not, but he doesn’t feel like upset is the most accurate term for what he is feeling.

Your embarrassment is way too adorable. Painfully adorable and Astarion would be a fool not to take advantage of the moment.

“Well, on that note,” you keep your face covered, “I should be goi-“

“Oh no you don’t,” Astarion says teasingly, pulling your hands away from your face, “you owe me for this one.”

The mischievous glint in his eye tells you he is up to absolutely no good.

“Oh? And what do you feel I owe you?”

“Hmmmm, well Darling,” Astarion says, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “help cleaning off would be greatly appreciated.”

Your eyes go wide and Astarion playfully pulls your bottom lip between his teeth. A beautiful, whimpering moan escapes your lips and he smiles cheekily. He cherishes the moments when he can make you speechless instead of the other way around.

“Okay,” you say breathily.

“Okay?” Astarion teases, “I’ve never had a more enthusiastic lover.”

Astarion has to fight the smile when you grow an even darker shade of red at the title.

*smut starts here*

“I-I’m sorry-“ you say, looking down at your feet and rubbing your arm shyly, “I guess I’m not entirely sure what ‘helping’ you clean up entails soooo…”

“Well we have established that you do know how sex works, Darling,” Astarion says with a smirk, “but I suppose I could show you again…”

*smut starts here*

Astarion’s fingers dance along the hem of your shirt- pulling it off you in one swift movement. Astarion kisses the junction between your shoulder and your neck, taking a quick nip at the skin before pulling away.

“Typically,” he whispers, “you want to start with the offending articles of clothing- which for you, my Sweet- is anything that prevents me from seeing that beautiful body of yours.”

“Ast-“

“Ah,” Astarion cups your jaw with one of his hands and puts his thumb in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue, “I need you to be quiet, Darling. I’m trying to focus- you do want to learn, don’t you?”

You nod eagerly and he rewards you by pushing your thighs apart with his leg before rubbing it against your clothed heat. Your heart galloping and the smell of your arousal is making Astarion feel like he may go into a frenzy if he doesn’t get to have you soon.

He pushes the gross feelings down- hard- trying to prevent dissociation or at least obvious dissociation.

You wouldn’t go through with it if he didn’t seem to be having a good time and Astarion isn’t ready to have the, “surprise! I’m a prostitute against my own free will and I’ve been using my craft to make you like me, but now I’m horribly confused!” Conversation.

Astarion is snapped out of his thoughts when he feels your tongue glide along the ridge of his thumb before you nick his thumb with one of your canines. Your tongue flicks out to lap at the pin prick of a wound, but it must have been enough because your pupils are blown even wider now with lust and need. Astarion didn’t expect such a simple little action to rile him up so much, but he’s hardly done anything to you and his cock is straining against his pants.

“Cheeky pup,” Astarion praises, “you are full of surprises aren’t you?”

Astarion practically rips your pants off, taking his thumb out of your mouth, but making a point of drawing more blood- soaking in your wanting moans as his blood coats your tongue- as he teases your folds through your underwear before slowly slipping his fingers in between your legs while rubbing your clit with his thumb. Astarion’s plan to continue teasing you quickly dissolves when he adds a second finger, you begin to writhe and beg for him to take you underneath him. Astarion has you right where he wants you and yet he does not feel like he’s the one in control in this situation. You are like an addiction he can’t kick and he is excited to actually be excited about sex for once.

You are helping him hastily and messily remove his clothes- Astarion is caught up in the desperation to be inside you that he flips you onto your stomach- not thinking. You stiffen underneath him with a sharp breath and he snaps out of whatever lustful haze he is in.

It had been too aggressive of a movement- far too similar to your trauma.

“I’m so sorry,” he says quickly, turning you back over and you are looking up at him with fear in your eyes.

His heart shatters- Astarion wants you to feel safe with him and he just threw your trust away. He is so nervous as he takes in your facial expressions.

“I- it’s okay,” you say, trying to smile through the panic, “I just wasn’t expecting it was all. I trust you- I want to try.”

Astarion searches your eyes- he feels his brows furrowing and his face being consumed with the worry he is feeling.

“Are you sure?” He whispers, stroking your cheek and leaving soft kisses along your jaw, “we can do whatever you want, Darling. It’s just a privilege to be with you.”

It’s true- Astarion knows deep down that if he had met you in Baldur’s Gate that he would have begrudgingly taken you back to Cazador to become his meal. He is glad that is not the context you met each other in.

“I’m sure Star,” you gently tangle your hands behind his neck, you sigh into his shoulder,“I trust you and I know you won’t hurt me.”

Astarion works his way up until he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. When the hell did he become an affectionate lover?

“Thank you, Darling,” Astarion says breathily, “you can’t even begin to imagine how much that means to me.”

You allow him to help you flip back over- still wet and wanting from the earlier activities. Astarion positions you in front of the mirror on the opposite side of his tent- he’s not as hard as he was prior to the incident, but the look on your face changes that entirely as he slowly presses inside you.

Pure, carnal desire and pleasure- he groans at how your walls clench around him. Your hands are digging into the fabric of his bed roll and you are practically panting with lust as you adjust to him- yelping blissfully when he pulls back and snaps his hips into yours. Astarion wishes he could actually watch himself doing this to you, but he’s still thrilled by all of your reactions- each one earning a harder, faster thrust from Astarion each time.

You are crying out in pleasure- fighting to not collapse. You are looking at where he would be in the mirror and Gods is he grateful you are. Astarion feels your legs violently shaking as you release around him- your eyes fluttering as you ride out your orgasm. He gently pulls you flush against him by your hair, moving his left arm between the junction of your breasts to hold you in place, and bares you to himself in the mirror.

Your breasts are perfect- nipples hard and sensitive from the cool night air and arousal. Your orgasm is dripping between your legs- where you are taking him so well. You look absolutely euphoric and perfect this way. He traces the lines of your scars up to your breasts- pinching the swollen nubs until you are a whimpering mess clenching around him again. You are painted in your own nectar again- the growing waterfall between your legs causing a possessive growl to leave Astarion’s throat as he nips at your neck.

Astarion is the only one who can make you feel this way and he wants to make sure you never forget it.

“Gods you are a work of art,” he says, moving his hand that was playing with your breasts to rub your swollen, sensitive clit and he snaps up into you. The whimper that leaves your lips is so pitifully blissed out that Astarion loses his composure- thrusting up into you sloppily as he begins coming into you without any warning, grunting through his arousal as he praises you.

*smut ends here*

“You were so good for me, Little Love,” Astarion whispers into your ear, “but I definitely don’t think I am any cleaner than I was before.”

“And who’s fault is that?” You retort between heavy breaths.

Astarion laughs and then rolls you both onto your sides. Astarion wraps himself around you, pushing his nose into your hair and inhaling your scent- the already intoxicating aroma is even sweeter with the scent of you and him mixed together between your legs. Astarion glides his fingers between your legs and licks the combination off his fingers- humming in delight. He can feel the heat crawl up the back of your neck.

I can’t believe I almost lost this today, Astarion thinks, trying to just be in the moment with the warmth you make him feel, but there is also guilt, shame, and self- loathing. It makes him feel heavy- left to wonder if he will always feel this way despite enjoying himself with you. Would you be okay with that? Waiting for him to be okay? Astarion didn’t, however, realize that his “thought” was actually spoken out loud.

“Lost what today?”

Astarion stiffens against you- embarrassed more than anything. Astarion just hides his face in your hair and chuckles breathily.

“Oh only the first real companion I’ve had in a very long time,” he tries to brush it off, chuckles, “our late night trysts- sex included or not- are rather pleasurable. I think I’d go insane if I was stuck with everyone else here on my own.”

You are silent and what he knows is seconds, feels like hours before you finally speak again.

“Is that why you followed me earlier today?”

That is a good question. Why did Astarion follow you when you went to blow up the crèche?

You had all agreed after hastily retrieving the Blood of Lathander that blowing up the building is the best chance you and your companions had at getting out of there alive with no Githyanki to worry about. You volunteered to power up the machine.

Astarion didn’t tell you how much he despised the plan- that hadn’t gone well for him last time and he really would prefer to not upset you- not that you wouldn’t be kind to him, he just wasn’t sure if he would be able to be kind to you regarding your life being on the line.

Astarion has noticed you both seem to have very different opinions on the value of your life, but he tried to keep his thoughts to himself. Anyway, it wasn’t like you weren’t fast enough to outrun a small blast.

Karlach, Lae’zel, and Astarion watched as the monastery exploded and you sprinted faster than Astarion had ever seen anyone sprint before.

The blast was massive- the foundation of the Monastery falling apart at an alarmingly fast rate. The noise was deafening. This was far more powerful than any of you anticipated and he feels the pit in his stomach grow while watching you.

Then Astarion saw that the floor underneath your feet was going to give and you began to dip out of eye sight- Karlach and Lae’zel had the same realization he did- you are about to die underneath all of that rubble.

He remembers Karlach trying to hold him back- telling him you wouldn’t want him to go and just wait until one of you can afford Withers. Astarion didn’t want to have to wait or be without you for however long that would be.

The way his throat hurt screaming for you. Astarion had cast misty steps without much forethought involved and just barely got to you in time. He hadn’t meant to tackle you, but you being mad at him is the least of his concerns. He had only had one goal and it was for you to get out of there alive- it scared him how easily he had been a second thought to himself.

He’s never been more afraid for another person or to lose said person in his 239 years of living (that he can remember)- up until you. Astarion would have hated himself for the rest of eternity if something terrible had happened to you and he didn’t even try to save you.

“I-,” Astarion clears his throat, “I don’t know Darling. We were just watching the tower collapse and I saw that the foundation underneath you was going to give…

“I cast misty steps without even really thinking about it. I’m still struggling to believe it myself… I’ve never really thought about anyone else’s safety before.”

Astarion tries to feel brave despite his vulnerability- he supposes he’ll know if he is just sex to you or not.

You turn around to face him, running your fingers through his hair as he pulls you into him- your faces mere inches apart.

You are reading him and Astarion avoids your gaze. He doesn’t want you to see how intensely his feelings are starting to change, but he also doesn’t want to slip his facade back on- he relaxes when you lean your forehead against his.

“Thank you, Astarion,” you whisper his name like a silent prayer.

“Of course, Little Love,” he releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and then inhales slowly.

You smell like lavender, clary sage, and pine- the three most random things have quickly become his favorite combination of scents. He wanted to bottle up the smell so he never has to be without.

Astarion considers your earlier proposition of traveling together after this is all over. It’s been almost 2 months of you knowing one another and it’s been a wonderful 2 months of fun- minus the being hunted by psychotic vampires and could turn into tentacled creatures at any moment.

He hasn’t dared to think about your offer until just now. Astarion knows that you will inevitably end things with him before the end of this journey when you realize he has little to no worth outside of pleasure, but Gods can’t he dream about a world where that never happens? Even if only for a little while?

“I think Candlekeep would be a first good spot for us to go- if we survive this whole tadpole thing,” Astarion says absentmindedly, “I do love a good book.”

“Oh I know,” you say while wiggling your eyebrows at him, “why do you think I even mentioned it?”

“Darling,” Astarion gasps, “how dare you exploit my weakness for literature!”

“I’m despicable, I know,” you put the back of your hand to your forehead, “my plan was to manipulate you into traveling with me the entire time. All I needed to do was find something that may interest you.”

“I didn’t realize I was so easy to please.”

“I wouldn’t say that- you have very reasonable and accessible hobbies,” you say slowly, “you are just difficult to keep up with sometimes.”

“Whatever do you mean, my Dear?” Astarion says trying to hide the nervous edge that threatens to lace his voice.

You look at him with the same amount of nerves he is feeling on the inside. You are cautious and guarded now- like you were when he first met you.

“Um well- Shadowheart told me that you guys um,” you shift uncomfortably, “almost started a thing before I joined camp.”

Wonderful, how thoughtful of her.

“…it was that first day when we were setting up the tents. She mentioned that you guys made out with a lot of heavy petting. Shadowheart had this whole idea of making you beg for it.”

Oh really? Astarion thinks bitterly.

“ She was actually a little bit pissed when you kind of stopped regarding her completely. She’s moved on now, well I hope or maybe she hasn’t because she brought it up again tonight that it’s a bummer you didn’t mesh… and she started talking about being with ‘men like you’ and how you prefer someone who is exciting in bed…”

Oh I’m going to kill that cleric, Astarion thinks, she will not be derailing my plan nor this- whatever this is.

It had barely been anything- Shadowheart had approached him, he couldn’t tell her no, she got him hard, and by the time he was nicely dissociated- she had pushed herself off of him saying he needed to earn it.

Then he met you the next day and having to force himself to be with Shadowheart was quickly thrown out the window.

Astarion had been grateful if he was honest with himself. Beyond grateful, actually. Astarion can’t imagine being with Shadowheart when he has you- someone who respects him and seems to enjoy his company outside of sex- enough to offer your company before and after at least.

Your voice is a sad whisper now, “and well- she mentioned maybe asking you to also… be with her in this way.”

Oh he is going to go and rip that Cleric to pieces.

“I told her I wasn’t comfortable with that and she basically told me it was a pity I wasn’t- men ‘like you’ eventually get bored.”

You avoid his gaze, looking at where your left hand is settled on his shoulder, “I guess I was wondering if that is something I should be prepared for or if you are interested in being with her in that way. I honestly don’t know if I could still be with you- it would maybe hurt too much, but I understand. She’s beautiful, sexual, smart-“

“And yet she isn’t you,” Astarion says harsher than he intended. You look at him vulnerably and he kisses you deeply before continuing- surprising himself with how romantic he is being.

“Shadowheart did approach me on the third night of camp- right before you joined our group,” Astarion says with resentment, “I- Cazador used to have me go hunt for the most beautiful souls in Baldur’s Gate so that he could feed.

“I haven’t been given the luxury of saying ‘no’ for the last 200 years- not that she would have known that, but I… was barely there by the time she decided to leave. We had only been kissing and it all felt… mechanical. Rehearsed,” he is searching your eyes for any signs of disgust, but all he sees is understanding and encouragement to continue, “I was honestly grateful she walked off. I had tried to flirt back the next day- thinking it would be better for me to make an ally than an enemy. I wouldn’t be able to say no to her advances anyway- I figured I would just embrace it.

“Then I met you- ethereal, eccentric, dangerous, wonderful you,” he whispers as if the moon might hear how valuable you are and take you away, “and I don’t think I’ve looked at another soul ever since. You seem to see me- hear me. You are the only person to respect my boundaries- even when I am not respecting my own.

“Not a day goes by where I don’t enjoy your company- even on our rest days when everyone else is being a pill. You are the first person I’ve ever willingly propositioned as well- something I never thought I’d be able to do.”

Astarion tries to remind himself that this is all part of his act- he’s failing miserably. He really went and fucked up his own plan over choosing the wrong person. Maybe Shadowheart would have been the better choice for the sake of his sanity and his emotions. At least he knew what Shadowheart wanted. Your expression is unreadable and Astarion begins to feel anxious.

“But if you would like to include Shadowheart- I could tr-,” he begins slowly.

“NO!” You shout and cause both of you to jump, “No, Astarion. I definitely don’t want to include Shadowheart. I would like to keep our recreational activities and whatever we are doing to just us. I suppose I was just insecure because I have basically no sexual experience and evidently you do and she does and- nevermind! It was a dumb thought. “I want you to know- I don’t think less of you for everything with Cazador,” you say reassuringly, “you are not broken or a thing to be used. I couldn’t imagine enduring that kind of suffering for 200 years and Gods I hate that wretched man even more!!! But thank you for sharing all of that with me. It couldn’t have been easy so thank you for letting me get to know you more. I certainly cannot wait to parade Cazador’s head around on a stick with you through Baldur’s Gate.”

He lets out a choked laugh at your statement. Astarion holds you closer for a moment- trying to keep you from seeing his tears. You don’t look upon him with pity- every terrible story he tells you is regarded as what it is and you make him feel empowered to talk about these things. You don’t see Astarion as broken- you see him as brave and strong.

“Maybe a little dumb,” he teases, before looking at you softly, “but can I ask- does that mean you are only looking at me too? Or should I be anticipating a conversation about Halsin in the future?”

Astarion is asking in a joking tone, but he is scared to hear your answer. Halsin is the newest member in your weird little camp and he definitely has his eyes on you.

Astarion is positive that, whatever souls are made of- yours and his are the same. You understand him on an entirely different level and he is almost positive he would do anything to convince you to stay with him.

Astarion began talking to you so you would worship him and yet, here he is, worshiping you- as terrifying as that is.

You kiss him and Astarion has never felt more wanted- needed in his whole life. Your lips are soft and necessitous against his. Gently coaxing soft moans from his mouth. You stop to look at him- your face serious.

“I don’t want anyone else,” you say, “asking that was definitely a little dumb.”

Astarion meets you halfway, kissing you over and over again until you are entangled in each other- mind, body, and soul.

That night, for the first time ever, Astarion makes love.

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x tav #karlach #bg3 #astarion acunin #astarion x female reader #Astarion x AFAB! reader #smut #astarion x f! reader #astarion x gender neutral reader #astarion x gn!tav

[geralts-yenn]

Fighting demons

Evan Marshall x female reader (second-person pov)

summary: You've been in a relationship with Evan for a while now, but somehow you are still stuck on first base. You start questioning if he's really that into you.

warnings: 18+, minors DNI! feeling of being rejected, mentioning of violence and trauma, scars, drinking alcohol, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), hand job, protected p-in-v sex

word count: 4,3k

A/N: Ever since I started I need you know and brothers and beers, Evan spends a lot of time in my head. Which is nice 😁 And as a nonnie (is this always the same one? I guess so, anyway, thank you 🥰) asked for a next part, here it is...

My masterlist

You adjusted the splint to your arm. Contently, you looked at yourself in the mirror. The weeks you had your arm in the cast were hard to endure. It was a relief that you were finally able to dress yourself without help. Although you had to admit that you really enjoyed when Evan helped you change your clothes. At least then you’d get some skin on skin contact with him.

It was about time that this happened in a different setting, you thought with a frown. But somehow it just didn’t. Evan came over to you every day. You ate dinner together, talked, cuddled on the couch while watching TV. He loved to kiss you senseless. But every time your hand tried to get under his shirt he stopped you. 

First you thought he just wanted to take it slow, but now it had been weeks that you were together, and you felt like something was off. You should finally find the courage to ask him what was wrong. However, knowing yourself, you doubted this was happening. 

Walter watched Evan with his eyebrows drawn together as he gulped down the rest of his beer. He quickly got used to seeing his brother happy, so now that Evan was brooding again, Walter was worried. 

“Would you please talk to me?” he asked with a sigh. Evan didn't raise his head, he kept his eyes on the bottle that he turned between his hands nervously. A bitter chuckle left his lips. 

“What do you want to hear? That I'm fucking it up? That I'm too stupid to hold onto the one good thing that’s happened to me in a long time?” His eyes finally met Walter's. And his brother recognized the fear and desperation in Evan’s eyes. Walt put a hand over Evan's to stop him from rolling the bottle over the table. “Already thought it was about your girl. What happened?”

Evan clenched his jaw. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to think about it. But he knew his older brother well enough to know that Walter wouldn't stop asking. 

“It's more about what is NOT happening.” Evan shook his head, snorting, averting his eyes again. 

“I can't, Walter. Every day I think I'm finally ready for it. To show it to her. To tell her. But as soon as she touches me, I'm freaking out.” Evan ran a hand over his face, biting on the knuckle of his index finger. He was searching for the right words while his brother watched him patiently.

“I don't want her to know. She's so innocent, so pure. I can't bring myself to be the one to tell her what a horrible world we're living in.”

Walter was quiet for quite some time before he finally answered. “Don’t sacrifice yourself. Not again. You’re allowed to be happy.” Evan opened his mouth to answer, but Walter held up his hand to stop him.  “You don’t have to tell her everything. If she’s just half as wonderful as you say, she’ll understand. But don’t make her feel like it’s her fault. She doesn’t deserve that. And you don’t, either.”

When you opened the door for him, Evan greeted you with his adorable smile. “Baby, you look gorgeous.” His eyes traveled over your whole body, admiring your blouse and the jeans that hugged your curves just perfectly. 

“Enjoying your freedom without the cast?” he asked before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

You leaned into his caress with a hum. “I really do.” You bit on your lower lip, smiling mischievously at your boyfriend. ”I hope I get to enjoy it a little more tonight.”

Evan chuckled, but you couldn’t fight the nagging feeling that he just didn’t want to take the hint.

And as you rolled your hips you felt his erection press against your core. At least now you knew that your efforts didn’t leave him unaffected. You let your hand travel down over the firm muscles of his back and pressed yourself tight against his chest. You wished your second hand could join you in your explorations, but at least the splint wasn’t that much of an obstruction as the cast had been. 

He let go of you and walked into your kitchen “We still have time before we have to leave. I told Walter we’d be there by eight. Have you eaten yet?” You followed him and took his hand. Your eyes locked with his as you pulled him with you to the couch. “I did. The only hunger that needs to be tended to right now is for you to kiss me. You pushed him to sit and straddled his thighs. That was your favorite place to be in the world. Your hand found its way to the back of his head, your nails raking through his short velvety hair. Evan sighed as he shut his eyes. “This feels good.” Evan’s hands settled on your hips, pulling you closer.

The kiss you shared started off gently but the two of you didn’t waste much time before you deepened it. Evan’s tongue brushed over your lips, and you opened them for him. The touch of your tongues, the taste of Evan in your mouth, shot electric shocks right through you. Longingly, you squirmed in his arms. Damn, he was a good kisser. 

Evan grabbed your ass and pressed you against his hard length and you answered with a desperate moan. Without thinking, your hand found the hem of his shirt and your fingers sneaked under it, feeling the heat of his bare skin. 

Evan’s whole body tensed and he pulled his lips from yours. Nervously he glanced at his watch. “I think we should go, Walter is early most of the time anyway.” He didn’t even look you in the eyes. 

Frustrated, you dragged your leg over him and slumped down onto your couch. “What is this, Evan? The one moment you’re all over me and the next you stop and act as if nothing had happened? Did I misread this whole thing? Don’t you want me?”

Evan sighed, and you noticed that he was still averting his gaze. “I want you. I really do. It’s just… difficult. We’ll talk about it, I promise. Just give me a little more time.”

You got up and adjusted your blouse, your eyes brimming with tears. Evan followed and wrapped his arms around you. “I'm sorry. It's not because of you. You are perfect.” He kissed the top of your head.

You fought back the tears and nodded. “Okay, we'll talk about it another time. Let's go and meet your brother.”

Walter smiled when he saw the two of you enter the pub. It was a nice change to see Evan with his arm wrapped around a girl. He stood to greet you, surprising you with a warm hug.

And soon you decided that Walter was pleasant company. Not much of a talker but a great listener with a soft smile and kind eyes, watching you attentively.

“That obvious, huh? I really don’t want to push anything. His rejection just makes me so awfully insecure. And I’m scared of losing him.” Now it was Walter’s turn to shake his head. 

But as much as you tried to enjoy your evening, there was this tension between you and Evan. You were nervous and insecure. Not a feeling that was foreign to you. With Evan though, it was new. You didn’t dare to touch him and the few times his hands brushed over your body, you flinched. Evan seemed to be tense, too. You missed the smile that was usually on his lips when he looked at you.

When Evan left for the restrooms, you felt Walter’s hand grab yours. “Don’t question his feelings for you. He likes you, very much so. You just have to be patient with him. He’s got some demons to deal with.” You shook your head, a small smile for Walter on your lips. 

“You’re not going to lose him.” He paused for a brief moment, looking deep into your eyes, as if he needed to decide if he should go on. “You know, there’s a reason why I check on him daily. He’s been through a hard time. But if you keep showing him that he can trust you, that he is safe with you, he’ll open up. It’s going to be fine.” Walter chuckled softly. “Damn, you should hear how he talks about you. He’s head over heels, trust me.”

“Thank you, Walter. Guess it’s time for me to be patient and take care. I owe it to him after everything he’s done for me.”

Evan got back to you and as he sat down, you took his hand and laced your fingers with his. The surprise that flashed over his face turned into a smile that grew wider as you snuggled into his chest. Across the table you saw how Walter gave you a small wink. 

As you stood on your porch, Evan pressed a little kiss on your forehead. “Thank you for the evening. It was a nice change after sitting on the couch for weeks,” you told him and you meant it. After your little talk with Walter, you felt better than the last days, when you had been questioning Evan’s feelings for you. 

“Actually, I was hoping to get onto your couch for a little more tonight.” Evan whispered as his lips moved across your neck, spreading kisses on your skin in between every word. 

He pinned you to your door, his mouth crashing onto yours. His tongue brushed over your lips and you pliantly opened them for him, inviting his tongue to explore you. You moaned into his mouth as his teeth caught your lower lip. But then he pulled away from you and you took a deep breath to fill your lungs again. He lifted his head and locked his eyes with yours. You had never seen him like this. It was as if he were staring right into your soul.  “I need to tell you about something.” 

Your heart was racing and your hands trembled as you unlocked the door. Whatever it was, what Evan had to tell you, you felt that it was going to change your relationship with him. But if the way he kissed you gave anything away, you were not going to lose him. At least that was what you were trying to tell yourself as you stepped into your house with him, ignoring the panic that started to rise in your chest.

You kicked off your shoes and Evan took your hand to guide you to the couch. He sat down and pulled you onto his lap. As if he knew how much you felt safe and sheltered in his arms. You let out a breath you hadn’t even noticed you were holding.

“I’m sorry!” he began. “I know I hurt you with my behavior. But that was never my intention.” His hand cupped your cheek as he watched you with a sad expression on his face. 

“There’s something I need to show you, so you understand.”

Evan moved you to sit on the couch and kneeled on the floor before you. He held your hands in his and shut his eyes, clearly needing a moment to go on. A moment that you gladly gave him, now that he finally trusted you enough to open up to you. Evan took a sharp breath and then he grabbed the hem of his shirt with crossed arms and pulled it over his head. The dim light in the room fell onto his chest and you gasped. There were deep scars carved into his skin. Scars that clearly weren’t caused by an accident. They were forming a cryptic symbol on his chest. 

Your hand reached out but you stopped yourself before you met his skin, not sure if he could endure your touch. But Evan took your hand in his and guided it to his chest. Under your fingers you felt his heart beating excruciatingly fast. 

Your voice broke when you finally dared to speak. “What happened to you, Evan?” you asked him, not sure if you really wanted to hear the answer. But Evan took the decision on that upon himself.

“I can’t tell you, my love. Not because I don’t trust you.” He pulled you closer to him, his eyes not moving from yours as he pressed his forehead against yours. “It’s because I need to protect you. There are things in this world that I don’t want you to know about. Things I wish I could forget, too. But I can’t.” He pressed a soft kiss on your cheek. “But when I’m with you, I’m as far away from these horrible memories as I can be, and I’m so incredibly thankful to have you in my life. You fill my heart with love and happiness instead.”

He moved your hand with his over his scarred skin. “Can you be with me, even if I can’t tell you everything about my past?” You noticed the fear in his voice at his question. Evan was scared of losing you, too, you realized. And that was when something in you broke and you started crying. 

You couldn’t fully process what all of this meant, but one thing you were sure of: The man who kneeled in front of you was honestly asking you to be part of his life and you wanted nothing more than this. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t tell you about the scars. It didn’t matter what had happened in the past. Evan had made your life so much better in the past weeks and if he wanted you to be there for him, you would. Your heart was his. 

And that’s what you told him. In between sobs, you told him that it’s okay, that you want him to be part of your life. And then you said something, way too soon, but it was the truth and when it was out you couldn’t take it back anymore. “I love you, Evan.” It was just a whisper, but he heard it and his eyes got wide. And then he kissed you in a way he had never before. 

All the emotions washed over you as your lips and tongues moved so desperately against each other. You slipped from the couch right into Evan’s lap. He held you so tight that you could hardly breathe, but you just didn’t care. Hectically, he pulled your blouse out of your jeans and as his hands touched your bare waist, you let out a desperate moan. He had touched you there before, when he had helped you get changed, but now it felt different. You needed to feel him. You needed to feel all of him. With urgency, you started to pull the straps on your splint to get rid of it. Evan helped you with the trained movements of a medic, and he pressed soft kisses down your arm when it was finally free. 

You got up and pulled Evan with you. In between kisses and touches, you both stumbled into your bedroom. Somehow Evan had managed to open all the buttons of your blouse when you stopped at the edge of your bed. Evan’s chest was heaving as he watched you. His fingers brushed over your skin. Starting at your neck, he trailed down your collarbone to your sternum and the valley between your breasts. His thumb brushed over your hardened nipple that was clearly visible through the sheer fabric of your bra. 

Your own hands moved along his sides. Your injured arm felt inept but the sensation of feeling Evan’s warm skin under your touch was worth every effort. You nipped at his throat and got a deep moan in response. 

Evan slowly guided you to lay onto the mattress and brushed your blouse down your shoulders while doing so. He settled between your legs and resumed his assault on your mouth. Your breath hitched as you felt him running his hands over your body, one finally resting on your chest while the other trailed down your side. When he met your hip you couldn’t stop yourself from lifting it, pressing yourself against him.  You felt like you had never been so desperate to be touched. There was a longing deep inside of you that needed to be stilled. 

“Please, Evan!” you begged, not knowing what exactly you were asking of him, but Evan knew better than yourself what you were craving. His slender fingers finally started to unbutton your jeans and he crawled backwards to pull them from your legs. He moved up your body again, spreading kisses over your thighs as he passed them and you gasped when he stopped with his face just inches from your throbbing core. 

“May I?” he asked you, his voice gravelly and thick as his fingers hooked under the elastics of your panties. You weren't able to do anything else but nod, but for Evan this was enough to go on, and he rolled down your satin underwear. A toothy smile, stretching from ear to ear, slowly emerged on his face as he noticed the damp spot that had formed on the fabric. 

He started with chaste kisses and little nips, trailing excruciatingly slow from your belly downwards. Moving almost carefully, his tongue parted your folds, and brushed ever so lightly over your hooded clit. You whimpered, your hands cradling his head to show him that you wanted him exactly where he was. Keeping his slow pace, he lapped and sucked your sensitive pearl. His fingers circled your entrance to gather your arousal before he pushed one into you. You cried out his name at the sensation, and you felt Evan’s lips forming into a content smile. He added a second finger, pumping into you, searching for your most sensitive spot, while his mouth kept working on your clit. Evan growled as he felt your walls tighten around his digits and he doubled his efforts until he brought you over the edge. Your legs clenched around his head as you came all over his mouth. 

Evan wiggled himself free from where you had trapped him, chuckling. “Oh my god, sorry!” you gasped, opening your legs to let him go. But Evan laughed quietly. “Don’t apologize for this, please” he told you, and you saw in his eyes that he meant it. 

You were still a little embarrassed but decided to ignore it, so you pulled Evan up to you and distracted yourself by pressing a firm kiss on his lips. Evan answered with the same enthusiasm, parting his lips for you. His hands were on your chest again, rolling your hardened buds between his fingers. You moaned into his mouth as you felt the tension in your core build again. 

Careful, not to overburden your injured arm, you guided Evan to lay down on his back. “Please help me balance out that wardrobe situation, Evan!” you requested and he obliged gladly. He got rid of his pants and briefs in a few fast movements and let himself fall back on the bed again. When you rolled half on top of him, his hands moved to the clasp of your bra that he was now so used to open and close. You dropped your last piece of garment on the floor and finally took in the sight in front of you. Evan lay on your bed, his chest heaving and watching you with hooded eyes. Your eyes moved from his beautiful face down his chest where his scars stood out over the rest of his skin that was covered in a soft tuft of hair. His frame formed a V, wide shoulders and a narrow waist. You traced the line of his Adonis belt with your fingers and Evan’s hard cock twitched in response. 

You took this as an invitation and wrapped your hand around his length. Evan moaned as you trailed your thumb from the head to the root of his dick, tracing a vein. Then you tightened your grip again and started to stroke him in languid motions. “Fuck, baby, this feels so good!” Evan cursed. “Please! I need to feel you.” 

Without any hesitation, you reached for your nightstand and grabbed a condom from the drawer. You had been waiting for this long enough, now that he was finally ready, you needed to feel Evan inside of you. You sheathed his cock and stroked him a few more times while you straddled his thighs. Evan looked up at you with an expression you couldn’t quite name. It was lust, but mixed with something else. Could it be adoration? Whatever it was, the look he gave you sent a million butterflies through your stomach. 

You lifted your hips and guided his cock to your entrance. His face lit up in a soft smile that only half hid his desperation when you stopped moving for a second. But when you sank down on him, he lost control over his emotions. He threw his head back with a loud growl, his hands grabbing the sheets. 

You resisted the urge to move faster, trying to adjust your breathing with Evan’s as you started to roll your hips. Your eyes gazing at each other, you slowly moved up and down, engulfing his cock in your warmth. Hands found each other and you laced your fingers with Evan’s. He bit his lip as he watched you move on top of him. “Damn, baby, you’re beautiful.” he hummed, barely audible. His hands moved along the insides of your arms, making you shiver, until they were wrapped around your breasts. He rolled and pinched your hardened nipples and kneaded the soft flesh of your mounds as you rode him. 

He looked stunning, his face covered in a thin layer of sweat, his eyes half shut in lust. You leaned down and kissed him. Your tongues danced in the same lazy rhythm as your hips. But with the new angle, your bundle of nerves brushed over Evan with every move and you soon lost your will to go slow. You increased your pace and Evan followed you, burying his heels into the bed, so he could thrust up to you.

You felt how both of you got more and more consumed with desire. When you left his lips, leaning up again, you pulled Evan with you. You both wrapped your arms and legs around each other, getting as close as possible. Eyes locked on one another, you started to move faster again, rolling and grinding your hips. Evan rutted into you with the same hunger for release. And it didn’t take long until you felt your climax build and you cried out his name when it washed over you. Evan buried himself deep into you a few more times until he found his own relief.

Both of you let your heads fall onto the other's shoulder, gasping for air. When he had steadied his breath again, Evan rolled you onto the bed and finally pulled out of you. You sighed as he left you empty, but Evan made up for it by covering your face and neck in kisses. After a deep and passionate kiss, he got up and took care of the condom. You stood, too and went for the bathroom. When you had finished cleaning up you watched yourself in the mirror and couldn’t suppress a giggle. Your cheeks were flushed and you looked positively spent. But when you got back into your bedroom your smile froze on your face. Evan was fully clothed, he had even gotten his shirt that he had left on the couch. He was ready to leave you. 

“Please stay!” you told him, not hiding the disappointment in your voice. Evan sighed and pulled you into a tight embrace. “Sorry, baby, but I don’t think this is a good idea.” He pressed a kiss on op of your head. “I’m having trouble sleeping, and I don’t want to meddle with your rest.” he looked apologetic at you, but you shook your head stubbornly.

“No! You’ll stay. I need you here with me tonight.” you told him decisively. Evan frowned, still hesitant over the idea of spending the night in your bed. But when you started undressing him again, he didn’t protest. “I will probably be tossing around. Maybe even shouting” was his last objection that you just ignored. Then he helped you to get him out of his clothes again. You crawled under your duvet and you gladly took the place in his arm that he offered you, resting your head on his chest. The chest that he had hidden from you for so long. A single tear ran down your cheek as you realized how much it meant for him to let you near. 

You were woken up by a hand gripping tight on your waist and quiet whimpers at your neck. It took you a moment until you remembered it was Evan lying next to you. The dim light of your alarm clock told you it was shortly after 4am. You turned and saw his face illuminated faintly, a grimace of pain written on it. “No!” he whispered in between sobs. “No, please! Let me go!”

“Shush” you cooed. “You’re safe. I’m here, Evan, and you are safe.” You wrapped your arms tight around him and covered his face in kisses, softly whispering more soothing words to him. After a while, he relaxed. His face softened and he had stopped the whimpers that had held your heart in a tight grip. You pressed another kiss on his cheek and Evan finally opened his eyes. His expression lit up as he saw you and you let out a breath you were holding when a smile formed on his lips. Evan pulled you even tighter, as close as possible, before kissing the corner of your mouth. “Thank you!” he mumbled with a hoarse voice. And after another of those deep stares right into your soul, he added: “I love you, too.”

#evan marshall fanfiction #evan marshall fanfic #evan #fighting demons #my writing

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

One of the hardest thoughts related to the villain trio in bnha, in terms of it being a hard pill to swallow I mean, it's that their fear of being both rejected and isolated keeps them, well, rejected and isolated.

And it is common, really. In fear of the worst thing happening we could deny ourselves the freedom of happy moments--- and then the worst might happen anyway. But for Tomura, Touya and Toga, who need to feel accepted so badly, who feel so utterly alone they need to keep others at distance, is like replacing a coat of thorns with a coat of needles.

Although it is not their fault they've retracted from the world, since it is a trauma response from all the abuse they've suffered, they are trapped on a cycle of actions that only push them farther down the spiral. That's partially due their hatred and rage and sadness and of course, the fear. They feel they're entitled to demand compensation, be it via revenge in the form of seeing your family suffer and your dad crash and burn to remind them of what they've done to you, by destroying the world so you can finally get free of the dark feelings inside you or borrowing what you want from other people lives by becoming them (in theory) through blood consumption.

The problem with the cycle is that the heroes can't enable those bad actions but they can't ignore either the traumas that generate the whole situation. Why? Because little traumas speak about greater fault lines in the system they try to correct and protect and its their job to save as many people as they can.

In Touya's case, for example, the Todorokis were able to both stop his bad actions and show their acknowledgment and acceptance (in the sense of recognizing his pain and the situation he went through). He'll have to face the consequences of his actions, but now the cycle started to break, so he might be able to get what he wants (maybe closure) without putting the entire world in danger.

Tomura needs to accept that he can't destroy the world if he wants to get better, as much as Toga needs to understand that the things she wants won't come from other people's lives but her own. There's a point when they have to break the barrier and allow it to hurt even more, before it can get better.

The intensity of their physical fights is meant to mirror the emotional struggle they're goin' through, like most good shonen usually do.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #league of villains #lov #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #dabi #toga himiko #shigaraki tomura #touya todoroki #toya todoroki #tenko shimura #bnha 392