#and spend multiple months in a coma.

[historicallyinaccuratejomarch]

Katharine McGee needs to stop trying to redeem Daphne here. I'm a Daphne stan because she's morally repugnant not because she has a secret emotional side

#majesty #american royals #katharine mcgee #the void's a nerd #i dont read this book for complexity. i read it because it's the literary equivalent of popcorn #this girl drugged her best friend #causing her to fall down a flight of stairs #and spend multiple months in a coma. #she's horrible i love her #i dont feel bad for her when she fails to blackmail the LITERAL QUEEN OF AMERICA #i simply thing 'wow daphne try harder next time' #'girlboss a little harder' #she gets so sad when everyone is like 'wow daphne you literally do not care about anyone but yourself' #YEAH BESTIE! YOU DON'T! THATS WHAT MAKES THIS SO FUN

[taestefully-in-luv]

Our Time | JJK (Five)

Summary: After an accident and being in a coma for three months, you finally wake. But the last nine years of your life have been completely erased. You rely on none other than your best friend, Jungkook, to help regain your memories and yourself. But what happens when the truth of your missing time starts unraveling and it isn’t all it’s made out to be?

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader (Detective!Jk x Graphic Designer!OC) side pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: crime au, fluff, heavy angst, smut, romance, darker themes, amnesia au. Best friends to ???

Word Count: 12.2k

Warnings: swearing, frustrations of amnesia, mentions of alcohol, lots of panicking, crying from multiple characters, mentions of death, mentions of vomit multiple times, feelings of betrayal and anger and sadness, next warning is a major spoiler: confirmed kidnapping of jk & ocs c h i l d blah blah blah for those who don't want spoilers and don't need warnings lol

a/n: only one more chapter until the introduction of this story is complete. And then the true plot will begin. 🤭please let me know what you think! Send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat :]

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

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You remember when you and Jungkook truly became friends.

You had never struggled to make friends. You naturally lured people in with your energy, maybe even your charm as a person. But after spending a month in Seoul already, you had never felt more out of place and out of your element. Every face you came across was the face of a stranger. It was like you were sitting in front of a TV screen and watching a crowd of people who didn’t matter to the plot of the movie. Just there. Living a life that had nothing to do with you. 

And you were the same to them.

You had only had maybe two conversations with your roommate in the small dorm. The first conversation was hardly even an introduction and the second one was her asking you if it was cool that she would sneak her boyfriend in every now and then. You didn’t mind. But you thought it meant you all would become friends but that proved to be untrue. 

The first week of classes, you realized many of your classmates are already friends or the ones who barely spoke were focused on their studies. That leaves you, someone with no friends and someone who isn’t that focused on school the way others were, feeling completely alone. 

The Friday night after the first week of classes was supposed to be a night of partying with your new friends and the new independent life as a new adult. But instead you wandered around aimlessly, lost and lonely. You didn’t really want to spend the first weekend as a college student in your dorm but where exactly were you going to go? Well, you decided to stick to campus and ended up browsing the library. 

A book to demolish during the weekend didn’t sound so bad, now did it?

When you were in the library, your eyes darted around, for no particular reason but hey, maybe something would stick out to you. And something did.

Or more like someone.

Your eyes grew twice their size when you spotted someone familiar. And goodness, nothing felt better than seeing something familiar in this new world.

You walked up to a table that sat at least six people but you stared with excited eyes at the only person occupying the space. 

“Frog boy?” You had blurted in pure happy rage. 

The frog boy in question kept his eyes on the book in his hands, only releasing a long sigh before lifting his eyes to you and cocking a brow. 

“You’ve known me almost your entire life and you don’t even know my name?” 

You had seen the playful glint in his eyes when he met your gaze.

You rolled yours, “Fine. Jungkook. Or you know, Ribbit.”

You hadn’t felt this excited and relieved since moving to Seoul. (Kind of.) (It’s not like you two were ever friends.) But that was about to change. Oh yes, that was going to change.

Whether your little frog boy, Jungkook, likes it or not.

“Do you go here too?!” You had asked him.

He only sighed again, looking back down at his book before answering with an unbothered nonchalance, “Nah.” And then he raised the book up, showing it to you with a straight face. “I came all the way to Seoul because only this library has…” He looked at the cover, “A freshman course Literature book.” 

“Oh.” You nodded in understanding, equally straight face.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at you, “You realize I’m joking, right?” 

“That would make sense.” You nodded again, pulling out a chair across from him and taking a seat. “So we both go here. That’s great. We’re friends now.” 

“Friends?”

“Unless you’re still too shy.” You remember how you challenged him.

But Jungkook raised another brow, “Am I still eight years old to you?”

“Maybe.” You had laughed before mocking. “When I see your face, I keep imagining it like,” You had scrunched up your features, pretending to cry while shaking your shirt. “A…a…a…a…a…f-frog!” 

You remember how he laughed. 

His laugh was pure, genuine and contagious. You remember how you joined him and it’s like the past lonely month you had spent in Seoul didn’t exist anymore. 

You two would start meeting up once a week at the library. Very casual. He would try to study and you would talk his head off. Jungkook never once complained. You remember looking forward to your weekly hang outs and you had hoped he felt the same. 

Jungkook obviously knew you were itching for more.

He looked over a textbook that he wasn’t paying any attention to and said, “You know we can hang out more than once a week, right?”

You basically had jumped out of your chair, cleaning up around you when you said, “Perfect. Let’s go to a party that my roommate told me about but didn’t invite me to.”

“A party?”

“A party.” You nodded.

Jungkook eyed you for a moment, looking hesitant. “I didn’t intend to party though.”

“Come on. We’re in this together.” You fluttered your lashes at him, trying your best to look convincing but he only huffed out an annoyed breath before giving in.

It was your first college frat party. Jungkook’s too. 

It was also the first time you got super drunk. Jungkook too.

You two had really opened up and bonded this night. You realized Jungkook definitely wasn’t the shy boy you remember as a kid—that makes sense. You told stories and ended up in your own world. It was a lot of fun and you knew college in Seoul wasn’t going to be so lonely after all. 

You remember by the end of the night when you two were walking, completely intoxicated, back to the dorms when you convinced him to just crash at your place. It was risky, trying to sneak him in, but it worked. You both stumbled inside, drunk off your asses when Jungkook claimed he didn’t feel good.

“Don’t throw up.” You remember warning him. “Or I’ll throw up too.”

“If I throw up,” He gulped anxiously, “I’d hope you would too. Didn’t you say we’re in this together?”

“D-Don’t even think about it.” You swallowed down your own drunken nausea. 

And then he did throw up.

And then you did too.

Naturally, you were inseparable after this. 

Weekly hang outs turned almost daily. You would talk to him like any other close friend and he would do the same. It felt good and natural and like you two had been friends since the day you shoved a frog down his shirt. And that first winter break, you two traveled home to Busan together, surprising your parents because after all these years of being neighbors, you were finally friends. 

You two had convinced your parents to have a joint cook out and you remember how afterwards, you and Jungkook laid on the hood of his car, looking up at the stars and talking about life. You remember how you asked him what he envisioned for his future.

He glanced at you, eyes lingering on your face for several long moments before he narrowed them, “We’re on vacation and you’re asking me to think about my future?”

You both laughed.

“I don’t know if what I’m currently in school for is something I actually want to do with my life. I’m hoping I’ll get inspired and suddenly know what it is I have to do.” He had finally answered.

You remember understanding his words, the feeling resonating with you. “Me too.”

You remember turning your body towards his and smiling, “Have I told you how glad I am to have seen you at the library and I forced my friendship on you?”

He had snorted, turning his own body towards you as well. The moonlight hitting his face, illuminating his features just right. He almost looked straight out of a dream. “You didn’t force your friendship on me.”

It was your turn to snort. “Liar.”

He stared at you for a moment, teasing smile pulling at his lips when he began drumming his fingers against the metal hood of his car. “And why would I ever lie to you?”

You remember the vibration you felt beneath your body when each of his fingers landed on the metal with a rhythmic beat. You remember the sound like a melody and his words were the lyrics. 

You remember how it felt when he basically sang his silent promise to you.

“Yeah, you’d never lie to me, right?” You had teased back but there was a quiet and genuine conversation happening beneath the teasing.

“Never.” He told you. And you believed him.

And you should still believe him, right?

But Misuk’s words are repeating relentlessly in your mind, ‘Closest. She hasn’t spoken one fucking word to you in two years. But right, closest.’

You want to have confidence in Jungkook because you should. But his silence after her words feels like cold, quick spider legs are racing up your spine, creating a chilling uneasiness and a spasm of worry and discomfort crosses over your face. You’ve never liked spiders.

What does Misuk mean by that? Why would she say that? There is no way you wouldn’t talk to your husband for two years. There must be some kind of misunderstanding. But your body remains stuck to the wall like you’ve been superglued and you’re afraid the moment you peel yourself away, your skin will be ripped off your bones. 

You know there has to be some kind of explanation because her words don’t directly translate to you and Jungkook not actually speaking for two years but your brain sends signals throughout your body that you have every right to be as anxious as you feel. 

Because your brain knows more than it’s letting on. Your brain holds all the mysteries that it doesn’t want to show you. And your body listens to the signals it sends.

“Be worried.” They say. 

But no matter if your skin separates from you and becomes a part of the wall in your kitchen…you have to go out there and get some kind of answer. Because you can’t handle for one more thing in your life to not make sense.

You tell your shaking legs to walk.

Even while you feel imprisoned by fear, they move. Your body turning the corner of the kitchen wall, water still running in the background, as you make your presence known. 

Jungkook and Misuk’s heads turn towards you when they feel you. And they mirror one another’s expressions. Watching you in numbed horror. 

“y/n…” Misuk says your name, blood draining from her face but you can tell she’s trying to look normal. “Hey.”

“What do you mean?” You’re surprised you have a voice. “Why did you say that?”

Jungkook’s mouth falls open, panicked eyes boring into your face. But he doesn’t speak.

They quickly glance at one another, an understanding that you’ve heard their conversation and you see how Jungkook’s expression twists into one of anger before he looks completely ashamed when he meets your eye again.

“What’s going on?” Your feet take you closer, your brain sending the signals without you telling it to. Your brain must be making fun of you. Mocking you. Wanting you to find things out when it already has the answers. Like it’s playing some game. “Why did Misuk say that? Why are you two on bad terms? Why,” You’re walking faster, getting closer as adrenaline starts running through your veins, your mouth unable to stop speaking.

“I asked what’s going on.” You stop in front of them, “Why—why did Misuk say that? Why are you both quiet now? Why can’t you answer me? Why are you looking at me like that?” You can’t stop the questions from spilling out of your mouth, eyes going frantically between Jungkook and Misuk. “W-Why aren’t you answering? Why are you doing—why are you doing this to me? Why are you making me feel this way? Why—why aren’t you—” Your heart is rapid inside your chest, thumping against your ribcage, trying to run away and hide now. “Fucking answer me because I don’t know what the fuck is going on!” Your chest heaves uncomfortably, eyes blown wide as nothing makes sense inside your mind.

Jungkook stares at you, eyes just as wide before he slowly shuts them, his lips sticking together in a tight line, nostrils flaring. 

“Nothing…” You quiet your voice, slight tremble when you speak. “Nothing already feels real to me. But marrying my best friend does make sense. But not talking to said husband for two years does not.” 

You concentrate on the two in front of you, watching their expressions and reactions to your words carefully. Jungkook looks pissed while Misuk blinks at you with obvious guilt on her entire face. 

“Say something!” You yell at them, both of their bodies flinching and your panicked thoughts only grow more wild and out of control. Fear is bursting your veins now. Fear of the unknown. Fear of what is known. The fear that your brain is just hiding something from you that could possibly make you heart crumble and shatter. 

“I…I…” Misuk looks around, eyes unable to meet yours anymore while she sets the muffins down onto the table at the front entrance. “I should—should leave.” 

Jungkook is quick to throw Misuk an incredulous look, “Are you fucking kidding me?” He spits at her. “You’re the one who opened your fucking mouth and opened this can of worms. And now you want to leave?”

Misuk snaps her head towards Jungkook, glowering eyes on him. “Should I stay? Say everything?” 

Jungkook swallows hard and you can see anger spiking his body. “You’re right. You’ve done enough. Just leave. I’ll walk you out.”

“I don’t need you to wa—”

“—Let’s go.” He walks forward, opening the front door as she seethes, walking past him.

You watch in disbelief, brows pinching when you try to stop them. “Where—”

“—Just stay here.” Jungkook tells you, his voice softens when directed towards you. “I’ll only be a minute.”

And just like that, Jungkook and Misuk are out of your house, front door slammed shut. 

How could they? How could they leave you here with your anxiety gripping your core and making you feel more lost and estranged in this world all over again. 

You stand here, blood pooling into the heels of your feet. A sudden coldness surrounds you and you feel faint. What is going on? What exactly has transpired in these last nine years? 

And where the hell is your explanation? 

You wish you could shut off your brain. Tell it to stop coming up with ridiculous theories when it knows the truth deep down. It’s just having fun with you at this point. 

You don’t think you can master the uneasiness you feel and control it. 

Your tense body twitches the moment your front door is opening again and Jungkook is slipping through with downward eyes. You wait anxiously for him to come closer to you and explain that it is not what it seems. But his body language throws you off. It throws off the confidence you’re supposed to have in him. 

Jungkook’s bottom lip is caught between his teeth, his own anxiety radiating off his body like heat off a space heater.  You want to read him like a book, like a book with an obvious ending. But you can’t. You can’t read him since he is in another language right now.

“Jungkook.” You call for him, trying your best to stay in one piece. 

He tries to look up at you but his eyes can’t manage your eyes. Your face. Your body. He can’t manage to feel what he’s feeling but a million times worse when he sees you. He walks closer to you, stopping just a foot in front of you, tense body looking more uncomfortable than what you’re feeling. 

“y/n…” He can’t even say your name without his voice cracking, a harsh breath forcing its way out of his mouth while his hands immediately go to his face, fingers rubbing into his skin with a roughness that makes you more worried than before. “Fuck.” He mutters in into his hands.

“Talk to me.” It’s not a suggestion. He knows this. You’re not asking. You’re telling him. You’re telling him to explain why the hell Misuk says that you two are not close and you haven’t spoken in two years. 

Jungkook’s hands drag down his face, the color has left him, a growing paleness that makes you think he might faint or puke at any moment. He’s struggling to even look at you. 

But he does.

And you see the pain in his eyes.

“I don’t…” He croaks out, breaths uneven. “I don’t know where to start. I don’t know how to—how to explain. I don’t know what to fuck—fucking say.” He finally stares at you, gaze so intense you almost wish he would go back to looking away. 

You swallow your nerves, your need for answers stronger than your need for ignorant protection of your feelings. “We’re married. Yet we haven’t spoken in two years. According to Misuk, anyway. Is that true?” 

He’s still staring and you’re growing more panicked. Needing an answer now but his silence is telling. 

“I asked if that’s true.” You repeat with a colder tone. 

Jungkook releases a shaky breath, “It’s half true.”

Your lips twist, “What does that mean? We do talk?”

“No. We aren’t married.” He tells you, voice quiet and eyes ashamed.

You take a step back, confusion growing. “But…but I saw—”

“—We were married.” He clarifies. “But we aren’t…” He closes his eyes for a moment, stopping them from growing wet. “Anymore.” 

You take another step back, face hardening as the confusion only triples. “We’re…divorced?” You ask him, but you hate that you even have to ask.

He stays still in his spot, the shame and regret thick in his voice when he answers, “Yeah.”

Your posture suddenly stiffens, letting out a forceful breath but because of the tightness in your chest, breathing is suddenly the hardest task.

You try to fight for optimism but your veins that were once bursting are filling again, but with a deadly acid that poisons your body. It’s running through you, corrupting and decaying any ounce of understanding. You need to breathe but you couldn’t possibly fight for one breath when your insides are turning rotten. 

Jungkook finally takes a step forward but your feet carry you away from him, several steps back until you’re against the edge of your sofa. 

“y/n…” He says your name but you aren’t sure he deserves to because he…

“Y-You lied to me?” You finally manage to say the one thought that keeps pushing against your raging forehead. “You lied to me? You lied?” You blink at him, “You lied to me, Jungkook? You made me think we…?” You shakily gesture between your bodies, “You let me think…” 

“I…” Jungkook’s expression grows desperate. “I didn’t—I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t…if I told you truth it would just…”

“The truth?” You look at him, disappointment in your killer gaze. “You lied to me. You lied—you lied. You would rather lie to me than—”

“—Yes!” He shouts, breathing heavier than before. “It’s one revelation after the other and you can’t handle the…” 

Your disappointment, your shock, your betrayal are slowly turning into anger.

“You lied to me.” You say, knowing it’s a fact now. “Why?”

Jungkook’s lips are parted and you’re both waiting for his explanation but it doesn’t come.

“I asked you why, Jungkook.” You feel your body sinking. An unbearable sadness creating a space inside your chest. “Tell me why and maybe…” You want to be reasonable. Maybe he had to or maybe he…no, why would he lie? Why would he lie to you? 

“It’s complicated.” Is the answer he settles for and the anger inside you finally snaps. Your body is struck with betrayal. 

“Com—complicated?” You ask the word in earnest. “You’re joking, right?”

“y/n…I asked you to always trust—”

“—You’re asking me to trust you after you lied to me?” Your jaw tightens, “Just tell me and we will see if—”

“—No.” He shakes his head, growing paler by the second. “I-I can’t. I really can’t.”

“You can’t tell me? Why?”

“Because I can’t!” He grows exasperated, his eyes blown out. “I fucking can’t. I can’t. I can’t say it. I can’t do that. I c-can’t.” His body gives up on him, shoulders shaking when he falls to his knees and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Don’t make me say—say it. I just can’t.” 

You look down at him, your confusion making you turn to anger instead of anything else.

You’re hurt.

But right now, being mad feels easier.

“Please, y/n.” His entire face makes you hurt more. “Please just…”

“Leave.” You say the word quietly. His eyes shoot open and he stares up at you. They’re blood shot and teary. “Please just leave.” 

Jungkook tries to stand again, his knees are weak but he tries anyway.

“y/n…” 

“Just leave.” You’re the one begging now, “Please just leave. Let me…just let me be right now.” You feel your own eyes grow wet, stinging and burning. Throat tight but you manage to beg him again, “Please just leave.”

Jungkook is trying to speak to you with his eyes and your brain, deep down, seems to understand him but your brain doesn’t want to let you in on this secret. He nods, blinking his eyes when a tear falls and his anxiously wipes it away. “Okay.”

He clearly doesn’t have it in him to fight you on this. Because for whatever reason, he can’t.

~~~

You wonder if this is how you felt when you first got divorced. Or maybe just a similar feeling. Like you’ve been stranded, abandoned and left for dead. Like your body has been drained of all the blood that pumps through you and someone has scooped out your heart and other organs and you’re now just an empty shell and a sorry excuse for a human being.

You might think to yourself that it’s quite dramatic to feel that way but somehow you feel even worse than that. 

You haven’t slept and you aren’t even really sure if you’ve even breathed since the news. You’re restless and anxious. You’re angry. You’re sad. And you’re heartbroken. You don’t even know what it must have felt like when you and Jungkook broke it off. What must have went wrong? So wrong that you two would go separate ways and you two wouldn’t speak to one another. 

A thought crosses your mind though…Misuk is upset with Jungkook. And she said you haven’t talked to him. She could have meant that you both haven’t spoken to one another in mutual agreement but Misuk’s hostility and choice of words have you believing different. 

So what exactly happened? And why does Jungkook refuse to explain it to you? 

You can’t imagine a world where he would betray you so badly that you’d divorce him and never speak again. But again, it’s been nine years. People do change. But you felt it in your bones…the happiness that coursed through his body when he was with you. You could feel how much he loves you. So then, what? 

You touch the screen of your phone that rests by your thigh on the sofa, the light is bright and blinding but you catch the time on the screen. It’s after 6 am already. Your mind working in overdrive to come to some sort of conclusion. But you realize you aren’t considering everything. 

You cannot be blind to the world around you. 

Your parents must know you’re divorced but why are they so willing to agree to your marriage? Why did they only seem happy? Why do they still love Jungkook despite that you’re divorced now? They still trust him, that is obvious.

But Misuk doesn’t. And Subin seems to be on the rocks but she doesn’t seem totally against him either. In fact, you overheard her in the café. She said they don’t know everything. You remember that being strange. Know what?

But in the end, you need to consider Jungkook the most. 

You two are apparently not together. And you two aren’t on speaking terms.

Then…is his apartment really his apartment? Suddenly, you feel even more lifeless at the thought. You can’t imagine the Jungkook you’ve always known…someone warm, cozy and tidy…living in that place. The countless bottles of alcohol, the little to no food, the stale air and even a hole in the wall that resembles too closely to the size of his fist. 

You also need to consider his reaction to everything as well.

You know in your heart of hearts…how off and conflicted he’s been since the beginning. You also know how hard things must have been for him as well. But you can’t help but still feel hurt, angry and bitter at the fact that he easily lied to you and kept up a façade about something you dreamed of. Making you feel like a fool for being so openly happy with him. When it wasn’t the truth. 

And maybe you are a fool.

A fool because 33 year old you might have the resolve to never speak to Jungkook but you, the you that exists now, doesn’t. And your brain is calling you a fool. Because it’s just a game for your brain. Your brain that hides all the answers and the truth. While you sit here completely clueless.

Clueless…

Clue…less…

Clue…?

Have there been any clues? Clues to the truth that you’ve missed? 

Think. You need to think.

You sit forward on your couch, elbows on your thighs while your head falls into your hands. 

You have to think. What are you missing that could—

The attic.

Your body moves quickly, suddenly standing from the couch when your head snaps towards the direction of the hallway. The attic…he hid your life away in the attic. You returned his keys to him—obviously—but you don’t think you locked it back up. Unless Jungkook went out of your sight to make sure it was locked again…then it should be unlocked and waiting for you to reveal your life. 

Your heart has seemed to return back inside your chest, racing wildly and uncontrollably, making you feel dizzy. You just have to take the first step in the attic’s direction and you could possibly uncover more. 

But you don’t move. Why? Why is it that you’re desperate for answers but your feet stay glued to the wooden floors? 

Fear has made you its prisoner once again.

But you need to release the shackles, break free and run out. Run far away from this thing that’s jailing you. Ignorance isn’t something you associate yourself with and you won’t start now.

Determined, though afraid, you take the first step. Then another. And another. Feet heavy with each step but you take them. You’re you. You will always walk towards the right thing. Even when others disagree…you know, the right thing is the truth. Because you will not be ignorant. 

You make it inside the mostly empty guest bedroom. It’s almost hotel like, no personal touch can be seen. For the first time, you feel odd being inside here. But not odd in the way that feels uncomfortable. But odd because it’s familiar. You take a moment, hand lifted towards the bedroom wall, flipping the light switch before your fingers lightly brush against the wall.

The paint in here is newer than the painted walls in the rest of the house. 

A weird feeling accompanies your touch.

But once your eyes land on the ladder you placed against the wall, you’re quick to shake off any other feelings before grabbing it, lifting it and taking it out into the hallway and setting it up underneath the attic door before you groan in realization that you don’t even need it. 

If it’s unlocked then you only have to pull the string and it should open. 

And hopefully that’s the case.

You slide the ladder off to the side, deciding you’ll put it away again when you’re finished. You stare up at the ceiling, eyes on the dangling string and you know what you must do. You have to fight off this hesitance, this fear and walk towards the truth that tries so desperately to hide from you. Okay. Deep breath. Any breath at this point. You reach up, fingers wrapped around the string tightly before you give it a tug. 

Your eyes expand when the door cracks open, clearly not enough pull to open it fully. 

It’s unlocked.

Heart still racing, blood rushing and insides twisting. You pull again. Harder. And the door opens and the wooden staircase comes down and you unfold it to its full length. All you have to do is go up these steps and search through the physical evidence of your life. The boxes. 

Your breaths are bated with each step you take that take you into the hole in the ceiling. The darkness feels consuming and you feel the chill wrap around your body the moment you enter inside. Walking further, you find the light and now a soft yellow makes the room glow. 

The boxes glare at you. Challenging you. ‘go ahead, open me.’ They whisper tauntingly. You glance around, feeling a chill at all the cob webs and no doubt, spider webs in the dark corners of the attic.

Fingers brush against the top of a few boxes, dust left on your fingertips, quickly wiping it off on your pants before you pry the first box open. It’s the same first box you opened last time…loose papers, notebooks, random sticky notes with words that make zero sense to you. You grab one notebook, open it and read the first page.

Jeez, your hand writing is messy.

Kim Joo Won > only Wednesdays and Fridays

Geum Jan Di > Mon-Fri

Cha Do Hyun > Tues-fri

Park Hae Yeoung > Tues and Thurs only

Lee Min Ho > Mon-fri

Park Jiyoo > Thurs and Friday  was off the Friday…see where he was. Confirmed out of town since Wednesday

You keep reading over the paper but you don’t understand what you’re reading. Your confusion grows…why do you have a list of people and days of the week connected to their names?

You turn the page and there’s a list of times now. Ranging from morning to the evening. With each persons name linked somewhere with a time of…are these work hours? Clock in and clock out times? 

You turn the page again but you can’t read your handwriting. Many words are scribbled out. 

You decide to close the notebook and set it back inside the box. You grab another notebook, opening it to a random page when you notice different pictures of people taped to the paper. Men and women with their names written next to them. Your eyes go wide. You see the name Lee Jaesung written next to a photo of a man you’re sure you recognize. 

It’s the man from the super market.

Next to his name is more scribbled words.

Lee Jaesung > Knows nothing.

And next to his picture and the words are pen scribbles that look done out of frustration.

What the hell is this? Why is the guy from the market inside this notebook with a bunch of other people?

You close the notebook, placing it inside again while you ignore this eerie feeling.

You push the box away and open another one. It’s the box with old clothes you had seen last time as well. You must have been wanting to donate them or something. You’re about to close the box when something catches your eye. On a piece of folded fabric beneath other articles of clothing, your eyes catch something that throws you off. A small patch of a cutesy koala clearly ironed onto the fabric. Your fingers go to touch it, curious about it for some odd reason. You pick at the little koala, the corners lifting off the fabric and you realize it might have been there a while and it’s starting to peel off.

It's cute, you think. 

You decide to look at your shirt in whole, hands suddenly digging it out of the box, unfolding the shirt when your heart stops. Face completely focused on what you’re holding and you can’t seem to shake off the feeling that consumes you. Your confusion grows. 

The shirt is small. Too small to be yours. 

Suddenly, your skin feels cold and clammy. Your brows pull so close together, dropping the shirt to the ground when your hands go back inside the box. You pull out more of the clothing. Clothing you are now realizing is not fit for an adult. Tiny shirts, tiny pants. You drop all of the random articles to the ground and at the very bottom of the box…tiny shoes.

These are clothes for children.

Boys clothes. 

Your fingers grab at the clothes frantically, your breaths growing heavier and heavier.

What is this? Why do you have this? 

You abandon the box, heart racing even faster as you make your way towards the other side of the attic where you found the box that held your old wedding photo. You need to breathe, you remind yourself. You’re no good if you pass out from lack of oxygen filling your lungs. 

But something haunting is crawling creepily over your skin.

You swallow hard, hands rubbing against your arms as if trying to brush away the spiders that must be crawling all over you with their millions of legs. But you only feel the unwanted goosebumps infecting your skin. 

Once again hesitant…you stare at the box that’s half open. The box that held the photo. 

You slowly reach for the left flap, lifting it and giving yourself a full view of the rest of the box. There’s more frames and you wonder if you can handle seeing more pictures of you and Jungkook living a life you don’t know of. 

You gather your resolve, taking a shaky breath before reaching inside. 

It’s a framed photo of you, Jungkook and your parents. You set it to the side before reaching in again. Framed photo of you and Jungkook at that park. A framed photo of you, Jungkook, Misuk, Subin and people you don’t recognize at a long dinner table. A framed photo of you and a group of people you don’t know holding up a ‘congrats on the promotion’ sign. 

Your hands shake, seeing yourself in all of these scenarios you don’t recall. 

Reaching the end of the box, you see one last photo of you and Jungkook wearing headbands that say ‘2017’ while sharing a kiss. 

You need to breathe. No matter how overwhelming this is…you need to breathe. 

You organize the photos back inside the box before pushing it away and opening another one. A really dusty one. You notice this box is taped closed and you struggle with peeling the tape back and getting it open. But once it is, you slowly open the flaps and reveal what is inside.

Again, your heart is aggressively throwing itself against your chest.

You are confused again. Slowly dipping your hands inside, you pull out a toy car. You bring it closer to you, inspecting the toy. A stabbing pain hits you relentlessly in your lower stomach. You carefully set it down before digging inside the box again, this time pulling out a zoo animals Lego set box. You don’t like this. Your brain is sending signals through your body again. You aren’t supposed to like this. Your brain is warning you.

You swallow even harder, your throat feeling tight and dry. 

You reach inside the box again and pull out a plastic robot, maybe around 6 inches in height. It looks like the most used toy so far…scratches across the plastic and even a missing hand. You turn it around, twisting it to look more carefully when you notice something written on the bottom of the foot with faded marker.

Haru.

It spells the name Haru. 

Who is Haru?

Your breaths won’t even out and relax. Who is Haru? You bring the toy close to your chest, gripping it tightly but your fingers are feeling weaker and weaker.

You know this toy. You think you do, anyway. It’s the first item in any box that feels familiar to you. And you aren’t sure what to feel about that.

Your lips are drying and even when you poke your tongue out to lick them, it doesn’t help. They continue to dry with an intensity that has you mistaking this cold air for the dessert. 

You place the robot back into the box, closing it softly before turning towards another box. 

You have to keep going.

Even though you aren’t sure how you will survive the rest of your searching.

Your chest aches. A physical pain from the pounding of your heart.

You reach for another box, sliding it towards you but it’s heavy. Heavy like the box that held photos. You get it opened and your breath hitches the moment you see this box also has photos. On top, a picture of Jungkook brushing his teeth in the bathroom mirror. His sleepy eyes and sad attempt at a peace sign. You hate that your eyes are stinging.

You grab another frame, eyes narrowing at the photo.

A picture of you and Jungkook at the park with his hand over your stomach as you both smile.

No…

Your chest rises and falls much faster. 

You reach for another photo and you don’t mean to shakily gasp, eyes burning at the sight. Your stomach looks huge in the photo, Jungkook’s face pushed up against it while you’re laughing. 

You aren’t capable of registering what the fuck you’re looking at. Your hands shake harder, the photo suddenly looking blurry. That can’t be you. That isn’t you. It’s not you.

“W-What…” Your voice is barely audible to your own ears. 

Your entire body goes rigid and cold.

You set the photo down before reaching for another one and as soon as you look at it, your shaky hands drop it. A loud slam to the attic floor and glass shattering at your feet. You blink at nothing, tears welling as you feel the blood completely drain from your face. You’re shocked frozen. Quick breaths that make you feel like you’re dying. 

You try so hard to snap out of it but how could you? How could you process the broken framed photo at your feet? How could you? 

You squat down, trembling fingers wiping away the hundreds of pieces of glass. The shards are sharp but nothing feels more piercing than the image that stares back at you. You pick up the picture, eyes blinking rapidly, ridding the tears that are forming. Tears because how could you understand and accept what you’re seeing?

You in a hospital bed with Jungkook’s arms around you. You both look ecstatic, teary eyed and smiling widely while in your arms…is a baby.

A baby.

You scoff underneath your breath. A baby.

Don’t you mean…your baby?

Immediately, just at the thought, you truly begin to panic.

There is no way. No fucking way you had a child. A child with Jungkook. You can’t believe this because nothing has felt more fucking unreal than this and nothing feels scarier. You don’t remember this. This can’t be you. This isn’t you. You aren’t you.

You drop the frame again, the loud thud making you wince before you step away slowly. Your eyes anxiously dart around again. The boxes are once again taunting you. You can’t. You can’t be in here anymore. You can’t do this anymore. You don’t want this anymore. You don’t want this life anymore. You want a life you can recognize but this is too far out of your element for you. This isn’t your life. This isn’t you. This isn’t you. This isn’t you.

Your breaths grow heavier, chest getting tighter and you’re wondering what it’s like to breathe because you don’t remember the last time you did now. Not normally, anyway. Your eyes can’t blink back tears anymore. You’re too overwhelmed to stop yourself from sobbing. Sobbing hard and uncontrollably. Pathetic whines leaving your mouth as you tremble at the sight of this attic. 

You need to get out of here.

You quickly turn the light off, stumble down the steps and without bothering to close the attic, you rush to the living room and collapse to the sofa. 

Tears flooding your cheeks. Sobs wracking your body. Misery consuming your soul. 

You are a mother?

Were a mother?

Where is this Haru?

Is Jungkook hiding an entire child? Perhaps Haru is with Jungkook’s parents? 

Everyone agreed to keep a fucking child from you? 

They shouldn’t have kept this from you. Sure, you’re 24 in your mind and nowhere near ready for a fucking child. But you birthed this kid and have no clue who he is. Your brain won’t even give you a piece of a memory that deals with someone you should love dearly.

Anger. Guilt. You aren’t sure what to feel right now.

But devastation for this entire thing should be a good start.

And you think you truly deserve that explanation.

You stuff your face into the cushion of the sofa you’ve grown to love and you cry. You cry hard and you cry loudly. You soak the sofa with your tears and you wonder how you could possibly accept this. Accept something that not only doesn’t feel real…but can’t be real.

You imagined marrying your best friend and that’s a place you could start. A place that was easy to accept. But this? This is hardly something you can recognize as a life of your own.

And you need Jungkook to tell you everything now.

Or you might truly go insane.

You don’t care it’s the ass crack of dawn, you feel for your phone that you know you left here on the couch and when you feel it, you bring it to your puffy face and try to find Jungkook’s name through your blurry vision. And you call him.

He must not be sleeping either because he answers before the first ring is even over.

“Hello? y/n?”

You don’t hide the fact you’re crying, “Come over. Now.” And you hang up.

~

Jungkook sits next to you, body turned towards you, completely stunned. You’re looking weak, unable to look at him for too long without growing emotional. He’s guilty. He lied to you. And you’re upset. But your puffy, red eyes has his heart aching dully in his chest. 

“Please talk to me, y/n…yell at me, hit me, anything you want but please say something.” He quietly begs you. He doesn’t dare reach for you, though his hands yearn to. Instead, he drums his fingers against his thigh.

You’re still unable to look at him, your brain still trying to process everything. But you know you need to speak up and get real answers. Answers that are the truth. And you need to hear them from Jungkook, himself. 

“I went,” You pause, trying to clear your throat but it still burns, feeling tight. “I went into the attic.” 

Jungkook’s fingers come to a sudden stop. “You what?” 

You finally lift your eyes to him, “I said I went into the attic.”

His face pales.

“I saw a lot of things.” Your gaze flickers down again, eyes stinging once more. “I saw that I was pregnant. I found his—Haru’s things…” 

Jungkook stares at you, pain and terror flashing in his eyes, his bottom lip quivering the moment you said Haru’s name. 

“We have a child and you didn’t say any—”

“—I…I…” He chokes on his words, his entire body tensing like it’s on the verge of shutting down.

“We have a son together and you didn’t mention anything?” You give him a hard stare, eyes looking cold and you see how he physically shatters under your gaze. He shatters just like the glass in the attic. He too is at your feet. At least it feels that way. “Say something Jung—“

“—Fuck!” He cries out, eyes slamming shut as his shoulders and chest begin to quake. “I can’t fucking do this.” He breathes out roughly, “I can’t do this again.” 

Your head pushes back in slight shock, “Do what?”

“Go through this.” He bows his head, silent tears falling to his lap. “I can’t tell you again.”

You feel struck with something eerie, “Tell me what again?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer you right away. He isn’t able to. He chokes on his words, chokes on his breaths and chokes on his tears. He’s shattered but there is nothing sharp or piercing about him. He’s soft around all edges. He’s soft. And he’s devastated.

“I’m—I’m not r-ready.” He cries into his hands. “This ha-happened too q-quickly. You shouldn’t…you shouldn’t…I can’t…” 

You feel the urge to reach for him and you do, your fingers going to the back of his head, massaging his scalp and neck. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?” You suddenly feel worried. 

Jungkook won’t calm down. A harsh reality suddenly all around you both. 

“Where is Haru, Jungkook? Why are you crying? Is he with your parents?” You ask him question after question and he only cries harder. You’re trying to piece it together. Where is your son? The kid you gave birth to? The one you don’t remember? He’s not…he can’t be…?

“Is he…dead?” You ask the question slowly between long breaths. “Is he—”

“—No!” Jungkook finally lifts his head, swollen eyes on you. “He’s not. He isn’t. He isn’t. He-He can’t be. Haru is…” He shakes his head violently, “He isn’t. Haru is alive. He’s…”

“Jungkook…” You see the pain and terror in his eyes still. And maybe pain and terror have always lived inside his irises. And you never understood it until now. “What happened?”

Jungkook wipes his face aggressively, trying his hardest to clean himself from his sorrowful tears. He takes deep breaths, eyes falling to yours where he seeks comfort.

“A little—a little over two years ago…” Jungkook takes another deep breath. “Haru….” He pauses, struggling to say it.

“What happened…?” Your heart is racing again.

“He—He was kidnapped. He was taken from us, y/n.” Jungkook spills the truth. The words fall from him mouth like vomit. “He was abducted and he—he hasn’t been found.”

You aren’t really processing this. You can barely believe you have a child. But now you have to believe this child is missing. You aren’t understanding. How could you?

��W-What?” You drop your hand from his hair. “What are you talking about Jungkook?”

He sighs out heavily, silent tears still leaving a miserable trail down his cheeks. “Haru was taken.” 

Haru…your son…was taken?

“And they closed the case. Too fucking early but they closed the case. They presume he’s…they don’t think he’s…” He can’t say it. But you hear him loud and clear. The police gave up on looking because they believe he’s dead.

You do feel sad. Maybe even heartbroken. But there is a disconnect because none of this sounds real to you. 

You look down at your lap, “This…this is around the time we got divorced?”

Jungkook chokes on a silent sob, “We divorced soon after.” He admits to you, “Losing my boy, losing you…and I lost my job eventually too.”

You look back up to him, “Why?”

His expression twists, shame gracing his features. “I was a mess, y/n. I couldn’t…I couldn’t handle myself or control myself. Finding Haru was all I could focus on but it led to too many bad things and eventually…Captain Kim, he felt for me.” Jungkook wipes his face again, “But they couldn’t keep me anymore.” 

Your heart sinks at his admission.

Jungkook has been suffering on his own while you are lost on all this trauma. 

This was obviously hard on both of you. It was too hard on both of you. He couldn’t handle himself? Control himself? But what about you? What were you like in all of this? 

Are you lucky that you don’t remember? 

Or is not knowing even worse?

“Okay…it’s okay…” You whisper towards Jungkook. Your heart mending itself from all the broken pieces because it makes sense now. Why Jungkook lied. Why he’s been so careful with you finding things out. Because this is…a lot. But right now, you want to comfort him. Because no matter what 33 year old you was going through…24 year old you just wants to hug her best friend.

~~~

It's been a few days since you found out about Haru. A little boy who doesn’t feel real to you. 

He was three years old when he was kidnapped.

And if he is still alive…he should be five now.

You’ve been detached and numb, unable to face anyone quite yet. Jungkook checks on you but suddenly, meeting his gaze has become harder. And you think he agrees. This is a huge shock for you and you see how repeating this news is just as hard for Jungkook. He’s burdened with something miserable that lingers in his eyes.

You finally decide to reach out to your parents today.

Needing them to know that you know everything now. 

You call your mom, phone to your ear as you listen for each ring until her sweet voice is calling a melodic ‘hello!’. 

“Hey.” You mumble into the phone, “Is dad with you?”

“Your dad?” Your mom sounds far from the phone, “Hold on, I’m putting away some groceries. Almost done!”

You smile a little, “Okay.”

After some shuffling in the background, you hear your moms voice in your ear now. “Okay! What’s up?”

“Is dad with you?” You repeat your question.

“Oh.” Your mom sighs out, “Nope. He’s with Jungkook’s father, they’re out playing golf.”

“Oh.”

“Why? Is everything okay? Are you trying to get a hold of him? Is he not answering?”

“No, no.” You shake your head, though she can’t see you. “I wanted to talk to both of you…but it’s okay. You can just fill him in.”

“Fill him in?”

“I know me and Jungkook are divorced.” You say the words quickly. “Why did you pretend we were married?”

It’s silent. Just soft breaths barely audible on the other line. “Well,” Your mom finally breathes out, “I think it was easier that way.” She admits. “You two love each other very much so I just didn’t see the issue.”

You scoff, “We’re divorced yet you—”

“—It’s not like he’s a bad guy. Or you’re bad, either.” She cuts in. “Things just…”

“I know about Haru.” You tell her. You hear how she inhales a sharp breath.

“H-Haru…” She repeats slowly, “You know because…?”

“I found out.” You tell her, “I don’t have my memories.”

Your mom is quiet on the other line before you hear her sniffling.

“Mom?”

She takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry.” Her voice is shaky. “This isn’t fair for you, honey. I’m so sorry.”

You sigh, “It’s not like I remember.”

“You know…after the abduction…” Your mom grows more and more emotional, “There were days where I wished I could take your pain and heartbreak away. But not remembering your son is also another pain and heartbreak.”

You don’t mean to get teary eyed at that. You try to keep your voice even. “I-I guess.”

“After everything…” Your mom clears her throat, “You really shut down. Of course you did. You’re a mother who lost her child. But…you just…you shut everyone out. You didn’t really talk to me or dad much anymore and we felt helpless. How couldn’t we feel that way?” 

“Mom…”

“We were devastated when you filed for divorced.” She says. “You and Jungkook were both heartbroken and in a bad place…it was obviously too much for both of you. But instead of figuring it out together…you fell apart.”

You divorced…because losing Haru was too much to bear?

Your heart sinks deeper. You can’t imagine what Jungkook felt.

Or you. But you won’t understand that one until you feel it again one day when your memories return.

“The pain was too much but I wish you would have stayed together…what you needed was each other.” 

“Oh.”

“And…we’re all devastated about Haru. But seeing the both of you completely broken…was another heartbreak we had to feel.”

~

You’ve thought about the conversation you had with your mom earlier all day. You sit here, trying to analyze her words. But they aren’t hard to understand. She claims you and Jungkook fell apart and divorced because the pain of losing your son was too unbearable. And you realize it is a solid reason. 

Your foot taps against your wooden floor, anxiously waiting for Misuk and Subin to arrive. You sent them a long text explaining everything and they said they’d be over as soon as possible. But you’re anxious. Anxious that even they know about a son you gave birth to when even you don’t. Anxious because you realize you feel guilty over it. Guilty you can’t remember something that is supposed to be precious. 

You sit here when your hands fly to your forehead when it suddenly starts pounding. A horrible ache pushing against your skull and you wince at the pain. Shit, you haven’t taken your medicine today. Standing from your sofa, you intend to walk to the kitchen but fists get knocked against your front door.

They’re here.

Taking a deep breath, your feet take you to them instead. And as soon as the door is opening, Subin and Misuk bring you into their arms while they whisper their apologies and sorrows. You wish you were still numb. But you aren’t. You tremble in their hold instead and let yourself cry into their arms.

After several minutes and your determination to calm yourself, you finally pull away from the girls and offer a small smile. “Sorry.” You try to laugh to ease your sadness.

Subin pouts at you, “No.”

“Don’t say sorry.” Misuk smiles at you, “I’m sorry. Sorry for everything…you overheard me and it all turned out like this…”

“Well, you aren’t wrong.” You bump her shoulder. “Let’s sit.”

You girls walk into your living room and plop down onto the sofa. “This sucks.” You try to laugh but your chest feels heavy. “How is it that my life turned out like this?”

“I know…” Misuk frowns. “I really am sorry that things spiraled and you found things out like this…I hated lying to you. I hated seeing everyone lie to you. You deserved to know the truth because I know that’s…” She bites her lip, worry written all over her face. “That’s what you’d want. But I truly don’t know what would have been worse…finding out like this or finding out because your memories returned and everything would hit you like a ton of bricks.” You glance down at your hands, trying to mull over her words. You think she’s right. But you think she’s right in a way of the you who would want it this way because you didn’t know any better.

“I just,” You sigh out, “I just can’t believe me and Jungkook’s marriage failed when we needed each other most.”

Your head snaps up when you hear Misuk scoff.

“What?” You question her while she narrows her eyes at nothing. “What is it?”

The space between her eyebrows crease, “Your marriage didn’t fail because of your mutual heartbreak over Haru’s abduction, y/n.” She finally meets your eye. “Is that what you think?”

For the millionth time, your heart beat grows faster. “What do you mean?”

“Your marriage failed because you blamed Jungkook for it.”

Your heart comes to a complete stop. “What?”

“You blamed him for the kidnapping.” She clarifies, “But I guess Jungkook conveniently left that part out.”

“What…what are you—“

“—Misuk.” Subin says her name with a harsh, cold tone. “Enough already.” 

“What?!” Misuk grows frustrated, eyes on Subin now. “She already knows this much—”

“—You don’t even know everything!” Subin cuts her off, “It’s not like we even know what y/n was thinking at that time! She didn’t even…” She suddenly gets quieter, her eyes going to you now. “She…you…” She meets your surprised gaze at her outburst. “You barely even spoke to us after the incident.”

You feel cold all of the sudden.

“You…” Subin tears her gaze away, “You got so distant. And we don’t blame you, of course we don’t blame you. But,” She looks at Misuk again, “How could you blame Jungkook for that?”

“y/n had her reasons!” Misuk throws back at Subin, “She told me herself.”

“It was fucking vague.” Subin rolls her eyes.

“Yeah? Well it was hint enough.” 

You look between the girls, their own tension forming between their bodies. “Wait, wait. Just hold on. What is happening?”

Subin looks at you again, “Nothing.”

“No.” You shake your head, “What is Misuk talking about?”

“Look,” Misuk takes a deep breath. “All I know is that you blame Jungkook. Before Haru was taken…it was clear your marriage was rocky even then. You didn’t talk about it though. But something was wrong.” Misuk fills you in even when Subin glares at her. “And I trust you.” 

On one hand, you’re flattered Misuk is such a ride or die. But on the other hand, you’re only left feeling more and more confused. 

But Jungkook’s voice is in your head now.

Him asking you to always trust him. 

It doesn’t sound like Misuk has solid evidence to be so against Jungkook. She only has your word. And since you can’t trust your own self right now. You’ll believe in Jungkook.

~~~

You want to believe in Jungkook. But Misuk’s warning words remain ringing in your head. You lay here in bed, mind racing with theories that make you want to vomit. Your head still hurts and something odd keeps bothering you. Like a memory wants to push itself out of your brain but it keeps holding it back.

You toss and turn in bed. The same numbness has returned. 

You don’t think you mind. You accept the numb sensation that takes over your body from the inside out, you disappear with it. You’re grateful because it provides the escape from the raw reality that you suffer. 

It is a preference.

Rather than feeling overwhelmed with a million emotions chaotically colliding inside your brain…you feel nothing but guilt from escaping. And you prefer this guilt over others.

You turn your head to the right, towards the window, when you feel your phone vibrating against your mattress.

Who is calling at this hour?

Grabbing your phone and looking at the screen, you see Jungkook’s name. Is he so lucky to escape too? Or is he in the reality where he suffers?

“Hello?” You murmur into the phone. 

“Hey,” Jungkook speaks quietly, “Um…I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Cute that you think I’d be able to sleep.” You half joke. “What’s up?”

Jungkook sighs into the phone, “Honestly…if you’re up for it. Want to talk? In person?”

You sit up from bed, “In person?”

“Yeah.” You suddenly hear soft, distant knocks on your front door. “I’m kind of already here.”

You lower the phone to your chest, head turned in the direction of your open bedroom door, where you know Jungkook is in the distance outside at your front door.

You quickly end the call, standing from the bed when you make your way to him. Door opening and a gust of wind enters your house with his scent carried with it, hitting your nostrils and you melt. But you shouldn’t.

“Hey.” You nod towards the inside of your home. “Come in.”

Jungkook gives you a timid smile before walking in, slipping his shoes off and going to the couch.

“I—”

“—Actually,” You cut him off before he can say anything. “I want to lay down. I feel…drained.” You admit to him with a tired smile, “Can we lay in my bed? Just to lay. And talk.”

Jungkook looks conflicted but he sees how exhausted you clearly are. “Okay.” He whispers, “We can.”

You lead him to your bedroom, for some reason you go to the side of the bed closest to the window even though you usually sleep on the side closest to the door. You lay on top of the blanket and rest your head atop the fluffy pillow. 

Jungkook takes a breath before climbing into the bed as well. A small smile threatening to pull his lips apart. You notice.

“What?” You question him but he shakes his head, suppressing the smile.

“No, it’s just…this is my side of the bed. And that’s yours. It’s like your body remembered even if you don’t.” He tells you quietly, a shy expression on his face. “It’s silly to think about that, I guess.”

You feel your cheeks grow warm. Embarrassment clear on your face. “Oh.” You’re both facing one another.

“Um, it’s—” Jungkook rests his head against the pillow but he pauses because he’s sure he feels something. “What’s…” He reaches underneath and his curious gaze turns somber. “Haru’s robot…” He whispers, the toy in his hands.

You grow more fucking embarrassed.

“Oh shit.” You blurt, completely forgetting it was under that pillow. “I just…it…” It was the one item in the attic that felt even a little familiar to you so you went back up to get it. “I felt…connected to it somehow.” You admit to him.

Jungkook nods slowly, “That makes sense. Haru wouldn’t go anywhere without this thing. The bath, to daycare, to Busan, any car ride—” He laughs a little. “Even needed this friend when his stomach hurt and he had to poop.” 

You crack a smile, “Thanks, that makes me feel great for having it under my pillow now.”

“Eh, I’m sure it’s clean. You always made sure everything was clean for him.” Jungkook lowers the robot to the mattress, “I know you aren’t aware. But you’re the best mom in the world.”

Heat crawls up your neck, “That feels weird to hear.”

“I know.” Jungkook frowns but he tries not to. “But you should hear it.”

“Should I?”

“Yeah.” He tells you with earnest eyes. “He reminded me all of the time that you were the best mommy in the world. He,” Jungkook breaks into a small grin, quietly chuckling when he sorts through his own memories. “I remember when I would take him to work and in front of everyone I would tell him I love him and he would respond with, ‘and I love mommy.’ Such a brat, that kid.” He laughs, keeping his emotions at bay. 

You can’t help but giggle too. 

 “He was always changing. One minute he would be outgoing and talk to anyone and the next he was guarded and shy. And I know all kids say wild stuff but he really said the wildest stuff.” Jungkook continues to smile. “I never knew what crazy thing he would say in public that would make me look like a questionable dad. Swear he did it on purpose.” 

“He sounds fun.”

“He is. Never bored around him.” Jungkook’s smile turns so soft. “He always slept through the night too. Once he was out…that was it until the morning. He might have been a pain in the ass sometimes but I really appreciated it that because,” Jungkook’s soft smile drops and his gaze darkens with something coy, “He never interrupted my time with you.” 

More heat envelopes your body. “That so?”

“Heavy sleeper too.” Jungkook tells you, “Never knew what we were up to.”

He finally cracks a teasing smile and you push his chest with a small laugh. “Shush.”

Jungkook still smiles at you but it turns more serious. “I know this is all…a lot for you. But being able to talk about Haru with you feels…” He sighs before swallowing his emotions. “It makes me believe in living again.”

You pinch your brows together, “What do you mean?”

“I think I’ve only been surviving.” He admits. “I haven’t felt alive since the last time we were really together.” 

Without thinking, you reach for him. Palm resting flat against his beating heart. “You feel alive to me.” You whisper.

“That’s because you’re here.” He whispers back, “This,” He taps your hand, talking about his heart. “Hasn’t made a single sound until you told me you loved me.” 

You wish his words wouldn’t affect you. But 24 year old you is affected. Because 33 year old you isn’t here right now. 

You aren’t sure if that’s good or bad. 

“Can I ask you something?” You gaze into his eyes. His eyes are soft and might you say, full of love when he nods quickly.

“You’re working on a case with your ex-partner Jimin…is it about Haru?”

Jungkook slowly closes his eyes when he frowns, “I can’t tell you anything about it, y/n…I can’t involve you.”

You sigh, “Okay.” Then you ask him something else. Feeling direct. “Misuk doesn’t trust you. Why?”

Jungkook suddenly looks annoyed. “Because she doesn’t know anything. It’s all assumptions on her end but you trust me, right?”

You think you do. So you nod.

“When your memories return…can you still trust me?” He asks you, but it sounds like he didn’t direct the question towards you at all. And that causes an uneasiness to stir.

But still, you are choosing him right now.

You glance to his chest and notice your hand is still against him and you laugh a little, “Sorry. I’m still touching you.”

“It’s okay.”

“I swear I’m not trying to throw myself at you.” And then you scrunch up your features. “Oh no, that’s what I was doing, right? Previously…I was totally forcing myself on you.” 

Jungkook can’t help but snort a little, smiling tugging at his lips. “You didn’t force yourself on me, y/n.”

Now it’s your turn to snort, “Liar.”

His fingers go to your hand again, softly drumming them across the top of your hand and you feel his heart beat harder. “And why would I ever lie to you?” 

You feel the vibration against your skin when each of his fingers land with a rhythmic beat. You recall this sound like a melody and his words are the lyrics. 

You notice how it feels when he basically sings his silent promise to you.

“Yeah, you’d never lie to me, right?” You ask, voice cracking. “Not really, right?”

Jungkook’s fingers come to a stop before he’s wrapping them around your hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth.” 

You quickly shake your head, “No, I can understand.” Your voices quivers. “I was angry. But I can understand.”

“I never lied about my feelings, you know?” He keeps holding your hand in his. “I do love you. I have for so long and I’m never going to stop.”

He’s staring so intently into your eyes and you’re wondering how you couldn’t trust this man. You can see his heart in his eyes and it’s beating so wildly for you.

~~~

The market is busy. It seems everyone is trying to do their grocery shopping today. You and Subin roam the aisles, plucking items off the shelves with giddy smiles. You’re going to bake Jungkook his favorite homemade cookies. You finally found the recipe books and wrote down all the ingredients. 

Thankfully, since it will be your first time giving it a go, Subin has offered to help you. You’re both searching for vanilla but it seems that either they’re out or you’re totally missing it.

“What if we just skip the vanilla?” You say nonchalantly but Subin gasps.

“Bakers all around the world all have a tear running down their face right now not knowing the reason why all because you just said that!” She says dramatically, “Vanilla is crucial!”

You can’t but laugh, “Yeah, yeah.”

“We still need brown sugar too, right?” Subin eyes the shelves. “Is it just me or is it so unorganized?”

“You know how people are,” You shrug. “When they don’t want an item anymore they just stick it anywhere.” Then you point at something, “That explains why there’s a package of uncooked chicken on the shelf with flour.”

“That can’t be safe.” Subin shudders. “Anyway, did you already grab the chips Jungkook wanted?” She eyes your cart, “You’ll totally forget. Go grab them and I’ll finish finding the vanilla and brown sugar.” She grins at you with rosy cheeks. 

“Oh I did totally forget.” You say, glancing at the cart as well. You look up at the aisle numbers and search for the word ‘chips’. “Sweet, it’s only two aisles over. Be right back!”

You walk over to aisle four, eyes browsing all of the chip options when you spot a few you ‘d like as well.

“Hmm, these ones.” You grab a bag, “And these ones.” Another bag. “Oh, yes…these ones too…” You hold three bags in your arms. “Right, I need to get Jungkook’s too.” You whisper, eyes searching for the brand he wanted. You smile when you spot them, trying your best to carry the three bags in one arm while you reach for the other bag. On your tip toes, you grab it and successfully hold all four bags. Feeling accomplished, you quickly turn around but bump into someone, dropping all of your chips.

“Ah, sorry, sorry!” You apologize to the stranger. Your eyes meet and you’re met with the familiarity like you are every time. “Oh. Nabi.” You say her name like you two are fully acquainted. 

Nabi stares at you wide eyed before offering a smile. “Hi.” She says before glancing around, her kind eyes suddenly looking anxious. “How are you? Um, here…let me help—”

“—Oh no, it’s okay!” You smile. But you both bend down at the same time, bumping heads and you’re about to giggle about it but suddenly it’s like images start flashing in your mind. You try to brush it off, reaching down to grab the chips instead of focusing on whatever images you saw that don’t make sense.

You reach for a bag at the same time as Nabi and when your hands touch, you swear the world goes completely still. Your eyes meet in panic and suddenly more images are speeding around in your brain and before you know it, they aren’t just images. But full on scenarios.

And for the first time, they do make sense.

You pull your hand back quickly, eyes blinking rapidly while you try to step back.

“y/n?” Nabi’s kind eyes turn concerned. “Hey, are you okay?”

You take another step back. 

Blood draining from your body. 

These aren’t just scenarios.

These are memories.

You stare at her, bewildered. Your panicked breathes leaving your mouth quickly as you try to ease your nerves. “Um,” You swallow thickly. “I—I…” Your fingers begin to tremble and you’re unable to hold the chips anymore.

Nabi watches you carefully, “Are you—”

You don’t let her finish, your feet taking you far from here. Panicked, anxious and alert…you race back to Subin and the moment she sees you, the adorable smile gets wiped off her face.

“What’s wrong?” She asks immediately, her hands going to your shoulders. “Hey, talk to me.”

But you’re breathing too quickly, your eyes blown wide. 

“What’s wrong?” She repeats, her worry evident. “Are you okay? Did something happen? Hey, y/n…calm down.”

Calm down?

You can’t calm down. Your breathing is harsh and heavy. Your chest is closing in on itself.

You wanted to trust Jungkook. You wanted to ignore Misuk’s words. You wanted to. Really. But with all the things you’ve just seen fly through your head, and the few new memories that sit tightly tucked inside your brain…you don’t know that you can.

Misuk might not have had any solid reason…but your own memories feel like reason enough.

You’re silently gasping for air, struggling to breathe. But you manage to say the words that make you feel like you’re fucking dying inside. “I know,” You swallow hard. “I know why I blame Jungkook.”

~

Next

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook angst #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #jungkook fics #Kim namjoon #Kim seokjin #seokjin smut #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #Kim taehyung #our time chapter 5

[vendetta-if]

I just found your account and couldn't get enough, thank you so much for taking your time to write this masterpieces! I am kind of curious will there be multiple bad ending for each RO's route? Maybe some estimate of how many endings there will be, because I am sure as hell will be trying to get all of them LOL

Also how would the RO's react to MC (post relationship) who got into a comatose state (for maybe a month or more) after protecting them from an attack before finally waking up? How miserable are they before MC wakes up? And how they react when MC finally wake up from their coma? Maybe add papa Victor, uncle Luka, Grandpa, and Yvette too if you can? Thank you so much~~~

Thank you so much for the kind words! 🙏😊 Right now, I’m not too sure on how many variations of the endings there will be since it’s still a while away 🤔

Right now, the “bad endings”—so as to speak—for the 3 ROs will have to do with what future path your MC decides to choose at the end since there will be some paths that Rin, Santana, and Skylar wouldn’t want to follow MC, and they would break up with MC instead.

I’ve touched upon it ages ago and the paths are actually listed in the Character List in the pinned post. Basically, Rin & Santana wouldn’t follow Superhero MC, Skylar wouldn’t follow Criminal Heir MC, meanwhile Ash would follow MC whatever paths they decide in the end.

I’m glad you’re interested in trying out all of the possible endings though! 😁 I think there might be quite a lot of variations of the endings depending mostly on your RO choice and path choice, not to mention some other decisions later on.

As for the second part of your ask, I’ll do for the ROs only this time because the post is getting too long 😅 But feel free to send me the follow-up ask.

I’ll keep the answers under the cut to save some space!

Ash

They’ll be in agony. Just seeing MC in pain or gets hurt is already really painful for them, but MC in a coma… That’s on a whole other level of distress that’s only short of the distress they would feel over MC’s death. But they’re trying to keep that possibility out of their mind…

Not to mention that MC is in this state because of them. They would be filled with such rage and self-loathing, that even after they have decimated the people responsible for hurting MC, they would still be unsatisfied and agitated because they themself is one of them.

They would spend almost all of their time accompanying MC and it’s hard and near impossible to tear them away from MC’s side. They would spend hours recounting both of their countless adventures… Childhood, teenage years, desperately hoping it would somehow help MC wake up.

Once MC wakes up though, they’ll be so relieved that they would probably cry right there and then from all the emotions. They will gush out apologies to MC over and over again for putting them through this while hugging MC as carefully as they can.

Rin

They’ll be nigh inconsolable. They’ll also be tortured from spending day and night repeating the scene over and over in their head—whether voluntary or not—thinking of countless of different scenarios and outcomes from hundreds of different things they could’ve done to prevent this.

While they would still be doing their responsibilities, they would always make sure to visit MC everyday and accompany them, even playing some of their favorite instrumental music as if it can help MC relax and get better quicker.

Their precognition ability, which is usually their greatest asset, has become their greatest enemy. They don’t want to use it. For the first time in their life, the complete uncertainty brings them a semblance of comfort left, giving them hope. They don’t want to know about the probabilities of MC dying or surviving. And everyday, they hope and pray that no visions of MC’s death ever comes to them.

Once MC wakes up, they’d be so relieved and happy. It feels as if a great weight has been lifted from them. They would smile wistfully as they take MC’s hand in theirs gently, rubbing it comfortingly as they speak to MC soothingly before finally getting the doctor to check on MC.

Santana

They’ll be even more depressed and morose, spending almost all of their break and lunch hours to visit MC everyday, talking to them about their day, pretending that MC can hear them.

They probably wouldn’t be able to focus on their job as well. The Chief would be pissed off but they couldn’t care less. Maybe it’d make a good excuse for them to quit.Their already messy life would get even messier.

They’ll also be consumed by guilt because MC gets into this situation to save them. It doesn’t help that Ash, Rin, Luka, and Grandpa would often send them accusatory side-eye whenever they come to visit MC, and honestly, they agree with them. They’ve never understood why MC would so readily sacrifice their safety—and even probably life—for a nobody like them.

Once MC wakes up, they almost can’t believe themself. Their heart is racing as it soars from the relief and happiness. They’ll quickly get a doctor to check on MC and after that, they’ll talk with MC, starting with how much they miss them before chiding them for getting themself in danger for them.

Skylar

The poor superhero is so distressed that for the duration of MC’s coma, the can only smile in front of the camera and they smiles they muster are ones that are clearly strained.

Just like Santana, they couldn’t focus on their superhero job fully as their mind always wanders back to MC in worry even during their shifts. If Skylar is a less important person, the Agency would have berated them harder and probably threaten to cut contract with them, but thankfully, Skylar is far from someone insignificant.

They spend a lot of time everyday visiting and spending time with MC. They’d talk to MC about various things and sometimes, they’d bring some of their books and read their favorite poems to MC—even some of their own that they have always kept to themself. When they don’t feel like talking, they’ll keep themself busy by drawing and sketching MC or the view outside of the window. Anything that will distract them from the encroaching morbid thoughts.

Once MC wakes up, they’d be so happy and relieved, and for the first time in months, they have a genuine big grin on their face and their eyes even water a bit from the overwhelming emotions. They’d probably try to crack a joke, but it would fall short of its mark. So, instead, they would hug MC, thanking them for saving them and telling them to never do that ever again.

#asks #anon ask #info #full cast ros #ro reactions #ro: ash #ro: rin #ro: santana #ro: skylar #if: vendetta #if vendetta #vendetta if #if game #if wip #dashingdon #choicescript #hosted games #choice of games #interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive games #interactive story

[daisyychainssj]

Just like I was excited to see how purgatory affects the islanders when they came back (which is still mostly yet to be seen apart from q!BBH and q!roier but that’s a whole different conversation 💀) im so excited to see how this impacts the eggs!! Pomme and dapper already seem to be cooking stuff up straight out of the gate. You’ve got Pomme who barely remembers anything about her time away (according to richas this is because whilst Etoiles managed to protect him during the earthquake in purgatory Pomme got hit on the head by the debris and was injured) and so this could possibly impact how she sees etoiles because he was protecting another egg when she got hurt or how she views herself because she was speaking to dapper and bad about how scary it is to barely remember anything about months of your life. Then you’ve got dapper who’s said that recently he’s seeing things, it’s like he’s got another pair of eyes somewhere else that she can see through (which wtf does this mean I’m both terrified and intrigued) and angst queen Tallulah came out of her coma swinging with the angst about Wilbur not being there and her frustration and upset about it all and she’s a lot more reserved and wary, sticking to Phil like glue around the new eggs. Chayanne had to make the decision so encourage all of his siblings to leave their homes and family (he ofc did it to protect them) but we know that boy is a protector and takes it to heart anytime he feels he’s “failed” someone he loves and Pomme came back hurt and he apologised to Tallulah and his dad multiple times for everything that’s happened like it’s clearly affected him. Richas is ALWAYS planning some sort of lore so I feel like he’s got something up his sleeve and then there’s Leo who woke up to find out her papa Foolich is gone and no one knows if he’s even alive and so that’s going to affect her, she already referred to her and roier as orphans multiple times yesterday. For Ramon I feel like it’s going be a pretty positive post Purgatory story tbh he woke up on a mission to get his dad and Pac together (I’m routing for him so hard you can do it my mustached king) but I hope we see some solo time with him and pac or him pac and Richas, I feel like Ramon deserves to experience more love from the others, Fit loves his kid so so much but I think it’ll be nice for Ramon to be able to heal from the way he was treated by q!Spreen (he was an ass to that child let’s be real) by spending some time with Pac. Ramon sticks to his dad like glue and I do think it’s because his only other experience with having another parent other than fit was with q!spreen so yeah I’m just really excited to see how all of our little babies develop and what stories take place for them after everything they’ve been through over the last few months away!

#qsmp #q!pomme #q!dapper #q!tallulah #q!richarlyson #q!chayanne #q!leonarda #q!ramon #qsmp rambling

[wolfiafuntime]

About The Church of Fontaine's High Priest

There's not enough Fontaine characters to make a 'About the Cultists V', so I made this instead!

For those unfamiliar- this is a Sagau! Modern Cult AU! And I recommend reading this quick brain rot that started it all.

Ft. Modern! Cultist! Neuvillette X Gn! Creator! Reader (only mentioned)

Tw: Cults, kids being in cults, murder, abuse, child abuse, grief, a descent into madness, and intentional lowercase in some parts.

Published: October 16, 2023 (posted at 12:01 am)

Words: 1,670

Pages: 5

 He was introduced to the cult via his ex-wife, whom he had a rough divorce with, Egeria Amrita, when he learned she had moved both herself and their shared daughter, Furina, to an unknown location. And he thought about joining when multiple family lawyers in the cult had brought up a loophole that would allow him to be closer to his daughter. But he didn't actually do anything until he learned who owned the mountain-bound house.

 Zhongli Xiangsheng.

 His childhood friend; who had gotten him and five others to join a group called the O-Sovereigns. A group who went on adventures everyday, sparred everyday, and traded everyday. A group who's majority never noticed that they went wherever zhongli said, always lost to zhongli, and gave nearly everything to zhongli for free. And, a group who zhongli had, without any punishment, murdered.

 And it was his fault.

 For when he awoke after spending months in a medically-induced coma, he was too afraid to testify against his former friend. And so he lied, claiming he didn't remember anything about the incident. And he continued to lie, even when he was told that he might be accused for the crime. He never was, though. And zhongli, despite all of the evidence against him, got off with only weakly therapy sessions.

 Logically, as an adult, as a former lawyer, and as a current judge, he knows that zhongli could not have been sent to jail. For Teyvat State had no laws stating that murderous children under the age of ten had to be imprisoned. But he cannot help but hate zhongli, and himself, for what they he had done.

 And so he had to join. To protect all of the innocent people zhongli had tricked. And he kept a hidden, written record of every illegal act zhongli had committed. Unfortunately, most of the crimes weren't that severe. For the people were consenting to living there, and consenting to their poor diets. The only people he could get arrested were the child abusers; which was tricky, but he managed.

 He spent his time taking care of those kids. Teaching them various things, from math to home economics. The only things he didn't teach were physical education, and the false history Zhongli had created. Still, his teachings got him the nickname 'Papa', especially from the cult's girls.

 Things stayed like that for years. Stalk zhongli (something everyone did), report child abusers (everyone thought they abandoned their grace), and teach children. Stalk zhongli, report child abusers, and teach children. Stalk, report, teach. Things got a lot harder when zhongli divided the cult into eight different compounds, though. He couldn't stalk zhongli, for he was bouncing between the temple of liyue and the adeptal domain. He couldn't report child abusers, for the church of fontaine was built to reflect 'fontaine's love-filled personality', so there were none. And he couldn't teach children, for Egeria, who had been gifted position of hydro archon, didn't want him 'ruining anymore families'.

 But he never gave up. He stuck at it, and worked his way up to the position of high priest by gaining the love of the church's victims. And Egeria, a true believer in their grace and lord fontaine, was forced to oblige. But deep down, she was seething. She hated him for divorcing her. She loathed him for moving in with her and Furina. And she resented him for making everyone believe he was a fellow worshipper.

 How could she tell? Well, the better question would be: How could she not? She had been in a romantic relationship with him for nearly two decades. They were living together for almost eighteen of them, and married for sixteen of them. It was only natural she knew all of his tells. The only thing she didn't have against him was evidence to show to her beloved Zhongli. Her beloved Morax. Her beloved Rex Lapis.

 So she started gathering it. Egeria made her own journal, and started documenting her own evidence. She used her position as Archon, and his position as High Priest to stalk him. And stalk him, and stalk him. She was determined in her faith in Their Grace, and even more determined in her love for Rex Lapis.

 Because the moment she saw him, Egeria knew she had found her soulmate. A kind, loyal man, who wouldn't dare put his job before her like her ex-husband had. One who's only dedication was spreading the love his late spouse and children had given him. And she was determined to get that same love for herself- and her daughter. And every meeting, meal, and night spent with him convinced her that she was getting closer to that goal.

 But sadly, Egeria never had the best memory, nor was she the best at multitasking. So when she took up the job of stalking her ex-husband, she started neglecting her beloved dragon. A fact that, while not immediately noticed, was still obvious fairly quickly. So, Morax and a small group of Adepti stopped by the Church of Fontaine. Morax, as he deserved, soaked up the attention and celebration, his very presence distracting everyone in the Church. Even the High Priests.

 Leaving the Adepti free to roam about. Or rather, leaving them free to search the Church from top to bottom. The first place they looked was Egeria's private room, but she was paranoid of her ex-husband to keep her journal in a place so obvious. Then they searched the High Priest's private room, and similarly, he was paranoid of anybody to keep his journal in a place so vulnerable. And so, the pair kept their journals in separate locations.

 The Adepti spent an entire day, night, and another day searching for the evidence of her betrayal, with absolutely no breaks inbetween. It wasn't until the sunset of the second day that they found one of the books- hidden in a box under a tree the High Priest visited with the church's children. But no one but the priest himself knew that.

 The journal was mistaken to be Egeria's. And upon reading it, Rex Lapis believed that the woman's sudden lack of contact was because she planned on bringing it to the police. And despite all of the believers he had in the city's police force, he couldn't risk it. In a panic, he burned the book and lead Egeria out to a nearby river, where he drowned her for her crimes against him. Ironically, the location wasn't that far from where she had kept her own book hidden.

 A place the high priest had soon searched when zhongli had announced it. Claiming that their grace, themself, had reappeared to personally take Egeria's soul to meet their family.

 He cried for months after that.

 'If only I had exposed the cult sooner!'

 'If only I had kept the book better hidden!'

 'If only I had never made the book!'

 'If only I had never joined this accursed cult!'

 'If only I had never divorced her!'

 'If only I had told the truth about Zhongli!'

 'If only I had never joined his horrible group!'

 'If only I had never met Zhongli!'

 'If only I had someone to save me from this turmoil!'

 Soon, though, he met that someone.

 He was introduced to them via his daughter, Furina, who had been appointed the new Hydro Archon for convincing an orphanage full of little girls to run away to the Church of Fontaine. This someone, of course, was none other than Their Grace, the kind and loving and just Creator of all. A being so righteous they came out of hiding to free his ex-wife from her unrecognized imprisonment. And in return, he would do all that he could to spread the justice the Creator was capable of.

 And thankfully, his eccentric daughter was more than accepting of this fact.

 Together, the pair made new virtues and sins to benefit this new belief. His daughter might of went a tad overboard, but as her subordinate, he'd have to make do. Thankfully, the majority of the people were surprisingly accepting of the sudden change. More accepting than the Temple of Sumeru's change in Archon, at the very least. Or, uh, more accepting of Lord Sumeru's rebirth. That's what he meant...

 Nowadays, The High Priest spends his time reading about the sins committed by members of the Church, and judging them for their actions. Making sure to give everyone a fair punishment, just like his Savior. Sadly, he does not have that much time to spend with the children, but he makes up for it by letting them style his hair and choose his outfit in the mornings. And by remembering the face, name, and birthday of each one.

 He currently works as a Judge at the Opera Courthouse, choosing punishments for abusers, assaulters, and murderers. And, despite his vow to help his fellow cultists, he cannot stop himself from punishing them harder. For those who have had their eyes opened to the truth of the universe, should know not to commit such horrible acts. And he is not afraid to state this fact to anybody within the cult, whether they be from other Churches or Temples, or even morax himself.

 Due to his position, he never had to leave the Church of Fontaine. Something he was quite happy to hear, as it gives him more time to make up for every prayer he missed or faked. And it gives him more time to prepare proper, well-thought-out sacrifices for Their Grace. His Grace. Who, unfortunately, is wed-bound to the reaper known as zhongli-- er, morax.

 'The Creator is getting stronger...' He recognizes. 'Surely, it is only a matter of time until they reincarnate and save everyone from that monster.'

 'And I will be the first to help them when it happens.'

Here's the Series Masterlist!

#did you know his SURNAME is Neuvillette? #Kinda wanna name him 'Aberaham' bc it means 'Father of many' #Or 'Morgan' bc it means 'sea circle' #genshin impact #gi #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y.n #sagau #self aware genshin au #sagau genshin #sagau modern au #sagau cult au #sagau yandere au #neuvillette #sagau neuvillette #yandere neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette x you #gn!reader #creator!reader

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Oral fixation / 16

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: E

Prompt: "You taste so good."

Contents: Succubus!Dabi, legalized sex work, supernatural AU, lingerie, aphrodisiacs, oral fixation, blowjobs, face-fucking, implied marathon sex, multiple orgasms mentioned, anal sex, cannibalism

You can also read on AO3!

The thing about burning was that it took him from mortal with a few drops of demon blood somewhere in his family line, to a full-blooded demon. He woke up from his coma starving, covered in scars, older, and with horns, wings, and a tail. Best guess the creepy doctor had been able to make is that in a fight to preserve itself, or maybe because his flames reminded that bit of blood in him about the place his ancestor was from, had turned it on and over-ridden his human genes. 

It was just his bad fucking luck that, on top of everything else, the demon in the Todoroki line was apparently one that fed off sex. On the bright side, he figured that out pretty fast, an incubus woman finding him on the streets not long after he'd run away from home for the second time and took him to the place she and a few other sex demons lived in the city. He was too young to start feeding himself, even if he'd wanted to try, his body wouldn't be able to absorb it. But they were able to feed him by harvesting some of the energy from their partners, bottling the crackling lightning in whatever they had around, and bringing that to him to eat. And that really helped. He has a sneaking suspicion the reason it had taken him years to wake up from the coma was because he was healing and starving at the same time. Once he starts getting regular food, he heals up a lot faster, hits his next growth spurt, and starts to feel stronger. His quirk still hurts if he uses it for too long, but he can heal up a little more from it than he used to be able to, so he's happy enough with that. 

He sticks around quietly, taking arson jobs to pay for his room and board, even if the other demons hadn't asked for it, until he reaches maturity. Then they start teaching him how to attract his own meals, how to make sure he rides the fine line between taking too much and killing his partner, or taking too little and needing to find food again in only a day or two. A good session, he learns, will fill his stomach for a week. He can probably survive two on nothing, but it won't be pleasant, and anything after that risks him going completely feral and could have him indulging in the flesh in a far more literal manner than is common for sex demons. 

He also learns, after another two months as his wings pull in tight to his back and get covered in some strange fleshy sacks that he thinks are gross as fuck, that he is a succubus apparently. And succubi get a second growth and shedding as their bat-like wings turn into feathered ones that help to make them seem softer and more alluring to their prey than the bat-wings make incubi to theirs. He has to wait a week and a half for the gross water balloons to deflate and turn itchy and brittle, and then he spends a whole night scratching away the sink with his talons until his new wings are exposed. They're big and black, his feathers softer than anything else he's ever touched, and shimmering the same blue as his flames when the light catches them just right. They're beautiful, and after he takes his first meal once they're free, he's... beautiful too. 

He hadn't given much thought to his appearance before he burned. He knew that he had his mother's soft face and features and his father's bright eyes, but that wasn't really important to him. When he'd woken up he'd been disturbed by how much he changed in his sleep, but he moved on. Once he finishes his transition to maturity, it's different. His eyes nearly glow, his lashes are full and thick, even though they're still pale, and his skin is luminous. He'd always heard that sex demons had skin like gemstones, but he gets it now. The unblemished portions of his flesh seem to have an internal glow that reminds him of moonstone, and the darker sections of his scars are the color of pale amethyst. They don't look piecemealed together even with the staples separating the sections. They look like they belong like that. And with his shiny dark wings, long thin black tail with a heart-shaped spade at the tip, and the more traditional smooth medium-sized devil horns curving up from the top of his head that flash like onyx, he looks like a proper born demon. He doubts that anyone will be able to recognize him like this, but he still dyes his hair black, just in case, before he thanks the demons who'd taken care of him for the past few years, and heads out to make his own way. 

It's not as easy as he thought it would be. Feathered wings means that people, villains, other demons, don't take him as seriously as they would an incubus because they're certain that if they find the right combination of words, he'll roll over for them and beg. He goes eight times past two weeks without food to make sure that whatever crew he was running with at the time, wouldn't get the wrong idea about why he was rolling with them. It's miserable each time, but if it's what he has to do to make sure that no one thinks he's just a pet looking to be leashed, then that's what he has to do. And he manages it for a long time before the Hero Killer goes viral. 

///

The League of Villains is a mess of... 'personality'. There's the Stain cosplayer lizard who has startlingly worse socialization skills that even himself, a psycho schoolgirl with a vampire quirk and enough demon blood in her to make her more vampire-like than he thinks a normal person would be, a fucking magician, a man whose sanity is literally held together by a paper bag, a guy who wears human hands on his body as an accessory, and Magne. She's got a hell of a temper when someone misgenders her, understandably, but she's definitely the most normal and well-adjusted of the bunch, and honestly a breath of fresh air compared to the rest of their antics. 

And they have definitely not been around demons aside from in vague passing because none of them know how to act around him. There is a constant air of discomfort for the first few days and Dabi steadfastly ignores it. Magne makes a pass at him, but she definitely doesn't know enough about sex demons because she seems to think that because he's a guy he must be an incubus and he has to tell her, 

"No, it's not based on gender, it's based on preference. I'm a succubus." And that seems to surprise all of them. No one else asks any uncomfortable questions about it for three days, not until Shigaraki corners him with Kurogiri, who is definitely not a demon no matter what the others seem to think. Dabi doesn't know what the fuck he is, but he's not a demon. 

"Dabi," 

"What, handjob?" He's a little snappier than he probably should be given their already rocky start, but he's hungry god dammit. He wants to find something to eat and he hasn't tasted the interest that he's looking for in any of the others yet.

He doesn't get dusted for his tone though, and Shigaraki goes on. "If you need to go elsewhere and find food, Kurogiri will teleport you. When you're finished, you can text him and he'll bring you back, just make sure that no one catches you using his portals." 

Dabi blinks. "Wait, really?" He was pretty sure that he was gonna have to beg one of the others to fuck him if this kept going on. 

Shigaraki isn't wearing the hand over his face for once and frowns slightly, his nails biting into his neck. "Unless you have a way to make sure that no one spots you as you come and go? You didn't expect us to just let you starve, did you?" 

Kinda, yeah. Never had a crew before that was willing to make accommodations for his demonic heritage that weren't just interested in having a toy they could pass around like he couldn't say 'no'. But he doesn't need to tell Shigaraki that. "...Thanks, boss." 

Duster shrugs and turns to head back upstairs. "Just don't get caught." 

///

For a while after that, Dabi doesn't have any issues taking his meals regularly again. Lots of people are excited by the prospect of sleeping with a sex demon now that so few of them end up dead afterwards. There was a big shift in how sex work was handled and legalized in the wake of the Great Ascension world-wide, so having sex clubs where mortals and demons can negotiate pay and find safe spaces to indulge are relatively common. With the money that he's getting from the League, Dabi manages to actually book a room at La Vénus, one of the nicest of these types of establishments outside of Tokyo, for three days. The League is going to have to be very on their game starting next week, with the last of their preparations being made to go hit the UA summer camp, but in preparation for that, Dabi wants to be well-fed, and Duster and AFO want them all to be well-rested. So he plans on gorging himself and getting a solid chunk of cash for his time. 

The first night he spends pinned between a couple who were eager to try a third, and who the husband didn't think he had to be worried about showing him up. Dabi is still certain that he did from his piercings to how many times he got his wife off with his mouth alone, but Dabi didn't really care much. They were a good meal and they paid well for his time. The second night he ends up with three different people, one girl, two guys, and he ends up feeling buzzed from how much he's had to eat and from the pleasure that's still sitting beneath his skin. He's flush with so much cash that the next day he orders room service to indulge in human food for the first time in... fuck, it's gotta be years now. Not only that, but this is enough cash that if this job falls through for some reason, he'll be able to get the fuck out of Kamino and set up halfway across the country.

He also goes out to one of the boutiques that is nearby and clearly used to catering to his kind and picks up an obnoxious set of deep red pleather lingerie. The club has a no full nudity rule in the open areas, but he's seen people and demons in pasties and thongs, and he wants to really grab attention tonight, maybe find himself a high roller who wants something exotic. The tiny thong, strappy bra that's almost more of a chest harness, and high stockings pair perfectly with a set of black heels that are as glossy as his wings after he finishes preening them for the night. Dabi is well aware of how edible he looks by the time he's ready to go into the main area. 

It's even nicer, then, when he is barely in the room for five minutes before he's starting to get people approaching him. He hears a few offers, but he wants something that is going to make the night memorable, and sends them on their way. For once in his life, he is spoiled for choice, he can choose to be a little picky tonight. 

When he smells someone's arousal crackling through the air like a summer storm his mouth starts to water, so distracted by the smell he fully turns away from the woman who was talking to him. He wants that on his tongue tonight. His nose is sharp, especially when it comes to locating someone who's arousal is calling to him, and he's turned for about two seconds before he finds the source and his face goes hot, his feathers fluffing with his embarrassment. 

He really, really didn't expect to find Shigaraki, dress shirt, blazer, dark dress pants, and no gross dead hands in sight, blinking at him from across the club. Shit. He turns back to the woman and apologizes, saying that he needs to go check in on a friend, and excuses himself. It's humiliating to have Shigaraki see him dressed like this, but he knew from the start what kind of demon he was. This doesn't make him any less effective at his job. He moves across the room to Duster, moving in close and hooking his arm through his, pressing into his side at the bar. Makes sure that it looks like he's schmoozing a potential meal, but whispers, only just loud enough to be heard over the thrum of the music, 

"What are you doing here? Did something happen?" And as if this night couldn't get any fucking weirder, color just barely starts to rise to Duster's cheeks before he quickly turns his attention back to the bar and the drink that's been set down in front of him. 

"No, everything's fine. Everyone is still set to go back to base next week." 

Dabi blinks. "So why are you here then?" A flicker of something bitter pulses through him and he quickly drops the other man's arm. He's wearing his gloves for once, which at least means that there's no risk of him getting hurt when he does it. "Did you follow me?" Wouldn't be the first time someone did, hoping he would be desperate enough to take them into his bed. And Duster still smells really good, definitely interested in him in a way that he's never smelled like before. 

Shigaraki flinches, "No, I had no idea that you would be here-- you never have been before--" Which has Dabi blinking. "I wouldn't have come if I knew you were hunting here."  

"This is my first time here, but it sounds like you're a... regular?" He doesn't necessarily have room to judge. He would have a much harder time finding willing meals if it weren't for places like these, but he would have put a lot of money on Shigaraki being a bumbling virgin. 

Duster looks as uncomfortable with this conversation as he is, not letting his eyes stray from his face. "I like to blow off steam on the rare occasion that I can get away." 

Which, okay, yeah, if he had the self-proclaimed Demon King breathing down his neck constantly, Dabi would be looking for somewhere else to go on his nights off too. "Right." 

"I can leave if it makes you uncomfortable, Dabi. You need this. I don't." 

He is really starting to get annoyed about how quickly Shigaraki can put him on his back foot when it comes to shit like this. He isn't supposed to be nice, or god forbid, understanding. None of his other bosses ever have been before. He opens his mouth without really knowing what he's even planning on saying. 

"Tomura," the voice is falsely high and sugar-sweet, a succubus with skin the glimmering luster of labradorite with a shock of long lavender hair, the bright soft wings of a violet-backed starling, and in a nearly see-through slip of a nightie flouncing over to the bar. He's not sure of the speaker's gender from a glance, and barely manages not to hiss when they step right into Shigaraki's space and press their front against his chest. "It's been ages, are you still looking for a partner?" 

"Reo, it's good to see you-- I'm in the middle--" 

The other succubus flares their feathers slightly, puffing up to try and be bigger when they're a good eight centimeters shorter than both he and Duster. A clear sign of marking their territory that should not make Dabi so ready to snarl back and stake his claim on Shigaraki's arousal. "Who's this?" 

"A work friend." He snaps instead. It wasn't like he was really going to proposition Duster anyway. "I'll see you on Monday?" 

"Of course. Dabi--" he doesn't give Shigaraki the chance to finish his sentence. He doesn't want to hear it. If Shig wants to have some fun with some other succubus, then that's his business. His wings shift with his annoyance, flapping slightly, and he nearly turns right back around when that sends a flash of his ass in the direction of the bar and another wave of that rolling thunderstorm smell pulses out of his boss. Fuck. That would have been such a good meal, too bad it's attached to Duster. Whatever. Plenty of other scents to follow tonight. 

///

He talks to no less than two dozen people. Two dozen people who are looking at him with their veins drenched in their arousal and not a single one of them makes him hungry. He's never been so apathetic to the option of so many different meals, and he can't even pretend it's because of how gluttonous he's been for the past two days. He knows that he could eat like this every night if he wanted and still never be full. He would just be stronger. But none of these meals are appetizing tonight. 

He's lounging on one of the alcoves pushed off to the side of the lounge, letting people seek him out if they want to try their luck, letting more people send drinks to his table, indulging again and again knowing that the alcohol won't affect him for ages longer than it would take a mortal, and twice as long as it would a demon as he burns it off in his stomach before it can hit his bloodstream. It's shaping up to be a night of nothing instead of one of debauchery, but whatever. He made a killing and is actually well-fed for the time being. He can spend his night alone in the lush bed with his wings spread wide instead of curled up on the tiny cot back at headquarters for one more night of luxury before heading back. 

Is thinking that he's going to head back to his room soon when he catches a whiff of that thunderstorm smell again that sends his stomach growling petulantly. He hasn't smelled Duster since shortly after leaving him at the bar, and it's embarrassing how fast his head snaps up to find him now. Dabi had assumed that he'd gone off with that other succubus earlier when his smell faded, but as he looks up he finds the mortal making his way over to his table, holding two glasses and looking as unrumpled as he had before Dabi departed. 

"You're still here?" Duster's question is tinged with enough genuine confusion that Dabi doesn't tell him to fuck off. 

"So are you," and he reaches for one of the glasses unceremoniously. Shigaraki hands it over, scotch on the rocks, the same thing he usually drinks at base and a far cry from the array of fruity drinks that have been sent to his table over and over throughout the night. "I don't get tired, you know that too much of a good thing can kill you, right?" 

Duster frowns at him slightly. "I'm well-aware, Dabi. I didn't stay before. I figured that you would probably have your evening booked soon and decided to go back home for a few hours so that you could find your meal in peace." 

"You cannot keep being so well-adjusted about this, or I'm going to set you on fire." The words leap out of his throat before he can do anything to stop them. 

Shig blinks at him. "You want me to be... more racist about your heritage?" 

His face burns and he takes a drink to stall as he tries to get a grip on himself. It's so hard to do when Shigaraki is sitting right there and he smells so good. Fuck it. He finishes the drink and then closes the space between them on the bench, checking to make sure he's still wearing his gloves, before climbing right into his lap. He flares and flutters his wings invitingly, wrapping his tail around Duster's ankle and sliding up a little, pushing the spade beneath the hem as he wraps one hand over his shoulder and runs the other up his chest slowly as he speaks. 

"I want you," he purrs, half distracted because there is definitely lean muscle under the shirt that he didn't really expect to feel there, "To stop being so professional and tell me why you bothered to come back over here." He leans in even closer, breathing in his scent as it pulses out from him even hotter and makes his mouth water. Fuck, if he stays like this for too long he's going to start to drip. He can't remember the last time that someone's scent alone could provoke that reaction from him. "Does the lingerie really do it for you that much? Never smelled you like this back at base." 

There's a pause, and for a second he's pretty sure that he's going to get pushed out of his lap or just straight up dusted, but instead, after a moment, Shigaraki's mostly covered hands wrap around his hips and pull him closer. "I'll have to tell the doctor that the scent blockers in my costume work perfectly if you don't already know how much I want you." He pulls him closer and Dabi sucks in a sharper breath as their pelvises go flush. Didn't realize that he was already starting to get hard, and feeling Duster's cock starting to harden against him as well has him trying to bite back a purr. "But you're my subordinate, Dabi. Where you eat, and who, isn't for me to know unless you want me to." 

He doesn't back down now that he can feel how much the other man wants him too. Starts to press kisses along his cheek, trailing down with each word until he's a hair's breadth away from his lips. "What if I want to eat you tonight?" 

The hands around his hips tighten, "What are your rates?" 

He couldn't care less about being paid for his time if it means that he has Shigaraki's cock in him and his thunderstorm arousal behind his teeth for the rest of the night. "Double whatever that other one asks for, and you have to tell Kurogiri to stop hiding the scotch from me." 

"More than worth triple, and if you manage to pull off the summer camp job I'll show you where he hides the stuff he saves for my teacher." Duster wraps a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him into a hard kiss that immediately has Dabi melting against him. Fuck, fuck. His skin may look like gemstones, but Shigaraki's feels like shattered marble against him, cooler than his body as his arousal creeps his temperature higher. It's broken and physically colder than anyone that he's had before, but he's never had a kiss make his venom glands pulse with the need to make sure that his partner will be able to satisfy him again and again. He has to pull away as soon as Duster's tongue flicks over his lips, doing his best to swallow away the bitter, citrusy venom. 

"Do you want--" 

"I want anything you'll give me, Dabi." His mouth moving to press kisses along the staples cutting over his cheek. "Tell me if there's anything you don't like?" 

He nods breathlessly, "C'mon, take me to bed." The words are hot, but the truth is he's scared if he tastes Shigaraki's arousal on his breath, if it gets any more overwhelming when he doses him, then his cock will get harder and the outfit barely covers him as it is. He really doesn't want to get kicked out if he can't fit in it anymore. 

Shigaraki gives him a chaste kiss against his lips before he lets him get out of his lap. Dabi wraps his tail around his wrist, pulling him along towards the exit, to the elevator. He doesn't care if he's being too needy, he feels like he's starving in a way he never has before, especially not since he's been gorging himself for the past few days. As soon as they are in the relative privacy of the elevator, Shigaraki has his hands back on his hips, pushing him up against the wall and capturing his mouth again. Dabi can't help the whiny moan that escapes him as his mouth immediately fills with venom, spilling bitter across both of their tongues. Duster doesn't care, licks inside anyway, swallows it away, and shivers as it starts to work its way into his system. Then his tongue is moving against his, along the sharp points of his fangs, along every place that he can like he's trying to find more of that taste or memorize every place that makes him squirm. 

They nearly miss their floor, but Shigaraki manages to extract himself for long enough to pull him out of the elevator. "Just have to get to your room, baby, and then I promise to give you your fill." 

He is very, very glad the room is spelled to open for him because if he'd had to fumble with a key car, let alone fit one somewhere into his outfit, he would have been screwed. Instead he drags Shigaraki along and all but yanks him inside. But as soon as they are, as soon as all the other sounds of the club are blocked out, he doesn't want to be in charge of anything else. He presses into Shig's chest, nearly whimpering, 

"Hungry-- Shig, please." Moans when that makes the human's scent go so, so much hotter. Dabi's cock is straining against his thong now, slick starting to drip down his thighs as his wings quiver. 

"You can use my first name, sweetheart." Tomura tells him, hands catching his hips, and directing him back towards the bed. "Fuck, you're so beautiful all flushed and needy in my color, Dabi." 

He's been called beautiful a million times before by people high on his venom. But he believes it a lot more when Duster says it as he scrambles to try and get the other man out of his clothes. The jacket is shed easily enough, but Dabi can't be bothered with the buttons, his talons tearing through the fabric instead and reaching for his belt immediately after. Tomura catches his wrist in a hard grip. 

"If you do that again you're going to have to be punished, baby boy. I'm going to make you wait." And even knowing that his venom is making Tomura want it as badly as he does, the tone, the hardness in his eyes, assures him that he really will make good on the threat. His whole body feels feverish with his need. It's been so long since his instincts have felt satisfied like this. Knowing it's Shigaraki, that he really does have power over him, it's making his hunger ravenous. 

"I'll be good--" he leaves his belt alone for the moment, chasing more of that dynamic, trying to find a heady helplessness that he's never been able to give himself over to because he's never... trusted anyone else he's ever made a meal out of like this. He hooks two fingers under the edge of Duster's glove. "Do you have to wear these?" It's been three months of being at base together. He's never seen him slip, but sex is different. He doesn't know if that control carries over here. 

The smell of his arousal nearly makes Dabi collapse. "You want them off, precious?" 

He's going to cum completely untouched at his rate, his body so desperate to give the other another, more potent, dose of venom through his seed if he doesn't actually start to feed him soon. "Tomura, please," he begs like he hasn't eaten in weeks.  

"Show me that you can be a good boy first. On your knees, baby." 

His wings automatically fluttering is the only reason he doesn't hit the ground hard enough to jar his knees, immediately nuzzling into the bulge his clothed cock is making against his pants. It's a big bulge, and his arousal smells so, so good that he can't help opening his mouth and licking at him hungrily through the fabric before his hands are even back to fumbling for his belt. He hears Duster breathe a curse before his hand is in his hair, stroking and toying with the locks between his horns. Normally people grab at those like handles to get him here or there, but Shigaraki ignores them as Dabi manages to get his pants open and finally, finally gets his fingers around his thick, heavy cock. 

He's nearly drooling, but forces his eyes back up to find Tomura's nearly black his pupils have blown so wide from his venom. "Please, sir?" Tries that, has a few that he filters through to see what makes his partners hottest. This one definitely works for Shigaraki if the smell of his arousal is anything to go by. 

"That's it, sweetheart. Come on, I know you're hungry." 

Starving. Is moaning as soon as his tongue flicks over his flushed skin, still cool compared to his overwhelming heat. Ravenous as his venom floods his mouth again and he smears it all along his length, a little thicker and more slick than his saliva, coating his skin and making it so much easier for him to wrap his lips around the thick head of him. He'll need whatever help he can get trying to get him into his mouth. And he wants him all the way inside, into his throat if he can, bound and determined to show the other man why succubi are credited with the origin of the phrase 'sucking the soul' out of their victims. 

The hand in his hair never goes sharper, never grabs onto his horns and forces him to take him faster, it just keeps stroking, letting him go at his own pace so long as he stays right where he is. Dabi can't even taste his skin, too much venom on his tongue and the crackle of his arousal sitting just beneath assaulting his senses, all he can do is go hazy with how good it feels to have someone so big on his tongue. Stretching his mouth so wide that he's tempted to pop out a few staples so that they don't tear, but he can't force himself to pull off for long enough to do that. Instead, he just goes as slowly as he can force himself to, taking him in inch by inch until he's finally, finally feeding him into his throat. Takes him in and swallows him until his nose is brushing his pelvis and only stops then, just keeping the heady weight of him there, choking away his breath deliciously, until Tomura does finally knot his hand into his hair and give it a light tug. Just enough that he’s blinking hazily up at the mortal. 

He's never seen anyone's face be that soft with affection when they're dosed with his venom, when he has their cock buried in his throat, but Shigaraki is looking at him like he's the most amazing thing in the world. "You feel so good, baby boy. But I need to know if you want to take it slow or if you want me to be rough with you." 

He couldn't do slow right now even if he wanted to, and his tail wraps around Tomura's thigh to try and pull him even closer as if he can even get his cock any deeper in his throat. 

"Tap my thigh if you need me to stop, precious." Never heard his voice like that before, but Dabi can barely pay attention, because the next second his hips are moving. One hand keeps him in place, but the other moves to one of his fluttering wings and then he starts to fuck his throat properly and Dabi is gone. 

He's never been able to give himself over to his instincts entirely. Never had someone who he recognized in that primal part of him that made him a succubus instead of an incubus, as being someone worthy of giving over his pleasure, his hunger, his sanity to while he was taking his meals. But Dabi is floating beyond words when he lets Tomura take control. By the time his cum is spilling down his throat, Dabi has never felt like he was both further and more deeply rooted in his skin than he does right now. As soon as Dabi has swallowed up all of his cum, Tomura is pulling him off of the floor, getting one bare hand in the front of his chest piece and turning it to dust even as he pulls him closer so that he can kiss him, breathing the crackling lightning that his orgasm tore out of his life force directly into Dabi's mouth and that has him squirming as he aches with how empty he is.

"You taste so good," he whimpers, needing more, desperate for it. He's never had someone who he's ever wanted seconds of, but he thinks that he could indulge in Tomura every day for the rest of his life and never tire of him. It earns him another hot kiss as he's pushed down onto the bed, his panties going the same way as his shirt before Tomura's deadly hands are wrapping around his thighs to spread them even wider. He holds onto him as his eyes drag over every exposed line of him, the smell of his arousal going even thicker as he sees his hole flushed and dripping his need all down his thighs, his cock achingly hard and drooling against his stomach now that it isn't being restrained in the confines of his thong. "More, Tomura, more, please," he begs, his wings spread, opening as invitingly as they can in this position against the mattress, his tail pressing up along his back to make sure it's out of the way, his head tilting back against the bed to expose his throat. He needs it. Needs him. Needs to be nothing but a receptacle for his mate's pleasure. 

Tomura gives him every inch of it so many times that Dabi passes out right alongside him when neither of their bodies have anything left to give.

///

It's not often that he wakes up with his meal still in his bed, but in the morning he's curled up against something nice and cool, his wings splayed out loosely across both of their bodies, relaxed and open in a way he's never let himself do before. He shifts slightly and feels Shigaraki's hand along his spine. His whole hand, but clearly he'd put his gloves back on at some point before they'd passed out. He's careful to not gore the other man on his horns as he looks up and finds the mortal already awake and there is an ocean of words building in the few inches between them that he doesn't want to acknowledge. 

"That was a brand new set." Is what falls clumsily off of his tongue. 

"You can add it to my tab." Not expecting his hand to cup the back of his neck and draw him in, a lazy, subtle curl of arousal in the air before he kisses him languidly. Takes his breath away again. "What now, Dabi?" 

"Wave last night's fee if you extend the room and order enough to eat so that I can have seconds today." 

It makes the scent of his arousal a little more intense and Duster wraps an arm around his waist so that he can roll Dabi onto his back and settle between his legs again. He leans in to capture his lips again but Dabi twists his mouth away. Doesn't stop Tomura, kissing along his jaw instead, down his neck, teeth skimming over his pulse point tantalizingly. He wants nothing more than to let Shigaraki make him fall apart like he did last night, but-- 

"Stop it, if I accidentally kill you with sex, AFO will have me hunted down and castrated." 

Duster hums in the back of his throat. "He would probably take your wings too." The confirmation of that is horrifying, but he does just give him one more kiss before getting off of him and reaching for the menu that's on the nightstand. "Anything in particular I should eat to make sure that doesn't happen?" 

He presses along his back to look at the menu over his shoulder and doesn't let his thoughts linger on that. He has more important things to focus on. 

///

They go back to work on Monday and everything is the same as it was before. Except that when Dabi gets peckish he goes and slips into Duster's room, and every time, as soon as those gross hands and his uniform come off, he envelops him in the thunderstorm of his arousal. He never treats him any differently afterwards during their meetings, but it's very, very nice to have someone ready to feed him. He is feeling stronger than he ever has before the Summer Camp job. He is stronger than before. He sets the entire forest ablaze and has complete control over it as it happens. He doesn't even make his seams ache over it. He doesn't see even the barest flicker of recognition in Shoto's eyes when they see each other, and they get the kid. Dabi is planning on seeing if he can steal Shig away for a celebratory meal after they finish making their offer, because they won whether the kid accepts the offer or not, but they don't get that far. He should have known they wouldn't, nothing ever goes well for him for this long. 

///

Two months. He thinks it's been two months since he ate. After Kamino and the clusterfuck of the fallout with that, and the Overhaul job, and then Duster going off to train against the baby, too much time has passed. He didn't even notice it at first. He had been so well-fed leading up to the disaster that he wasn't even starting to feel hungry until about three weeks in. Shigaraki and he aren't exclusive, he doesn't think. They haven't really talked about it. It's just been three months since he's had anyone else. Whatever, not important. 

Not until he tries to find someone else to eat and he's struggling. Too many of the potential meals have a tang to their arousal that speaks of worse intentions. He can't trust them now that he's one of Japan's most wanted. He can't go to any reputable, or even any skeevy establishments for demons like him because everyone in the country knows he's a succubus. There will be heroes or cops waiting around looking for him. He manages a back alley blowjob like a hooker from half a century ago, but even then the guy tries to pin him down for the reward money while he's off-balance. He burns him to cinders and manages to get out, but it was barely anything. Not nearly enough. It just makes him hungrier. 

When he gets the call to make his way to Deika he's nearly out of his mind. He barely notices the others, doesn't hear anything even as there are frantic words spoken around him, as he goes straight over to Shigaraki who looks practically dead on his feet and kisses him. He presses the whole length of his body against Tomura's with a needy moan, his hands immediately pushing under his coat to try and get to his waistband to drag their hips in even closer. His mouth is full of his venom and he tries to lick into Tomura's mouth, needing it so badly--

Duster catches him firmly by the chin and keeps the kiss chaste before he pulls away and Dabi nearly whines. "Not yet, firefly. You just have to wait a little longer, can you do that for me, sweetheart?" 

He's so hungry, but the command rolls through him and makes his wings quiver. "...yes, sir." 

He wipes away the venom from his lips, and goes right back to addressing the others, "We'll need to make our way through the city to the tower at the center. That's where they're holding Giran." 

"Oh, so we're just gonna pretend that didn't happen? Cool, cool," Spinner mumbles, blushing right through his scales. 

"You didn't know?" Toga sounds genuinely flabbergasted. "They've been in love for months!" He can't even take umbrage with that when he's so deliriously hungry. When her words help him come to the distant conclusion that the reason no one tasted good was definitely in part because he didn't want any of those people to be his mate the way he wants Tomura to be.

///

Maybe that realization is what has him fighting so hard in Deika. There are so many of the MLA trying to get to them and he wants to make sure that his potential mate is safe and this stupid fucking ice user is getting in his way. 

"Mister? Are you still being useless?"

"I am only half-armed!" 

"Fucking whatever, your mask doesn't have a respirator does it?" 

"No--"

"Scram then." and he sends up another wall of flame against the ice freak and then cups his hands beneath his mouth. This is not a particularly well-practiced move of his, but it's worked on a smaller scale before, and he's never been this starved before. Hopefully it will be more potent like this. He bites at the inside of his cheeks until his venom glands are pouring their contents into his mouth, into his open palms. It takes an embarrassingly short time before he has a large pool of the slightly purplish-tinted liquid in his hands. He throws it out into the air in the direction of the popsicle and as many of the MLA as he can and then lights up his hands, vaporizing it mid air and blasting it towards them. 

In the past it wasn't incredibly effective. It made people a little feverish and more inclined towards sex, but his venom this time is so potent from his need that it's like a fountain has been opened. The tantalizing scent of arousal starts to pulse around the city street. People try to stay focused on the fight, but women are starting to squeeze their thighs tight around their dripping arousal, men pulling at their rapidly tenting pants, and even the ice user is on his knees on top of his mount. It's only one street worth of goons, but it's enough of a distraction that Dabi is able to turn and start to move towards the tower again, towards his mate. 

Compress moves up alongside him. "That was disgusting, but effective. Have you always been able to do that?" 

"Mostly." 

"I wish you had told me, we could have made a few marbles with that." 

"Later." 

He doesn't normally use his wings to actually fly, it's definitely more of a noticeable mode of transportation, but he does not want any more grunts trying to get at him. Dabi takes to the sky and watches as Twices start to spill out across the streets as he tries to track down Tomura. 

He manages to catch him and stop him from breaking a leg or neck in the altercation between he and Re-Destro, but it doesn't do much to keep him from being battered to hell and back when Tomura is nearly crazed, lost in some haze of memories, exhaustion, and adrenaline. And by the time he's standing, bloody and victorious, his quirk awakened, and his new empire of resources started, he, Toga, and Twice are in dire need of medical attention. 

They rush him to the doctor, and Dabi stays hungry. 

///

Another week and a half passes and Dabi manages to do everything he needs to help ensure that the PLF rebranding will go over as smoothly as possible with as little input from Duster as possible. He wants him rested and healed as much as he can with the doctor's freaky procedures, because he needs Tomura healed enough to be able to sate his appetite. 

They do the fucking announcement and he hears Ujiko trying to goad him into going back for a fresh round of experiments instead of treatments and Dabi pulls the comm from his ear and crushes it into little plastic bits with a growl. 

"Alright, firefly, you've been so patient, come on, let's take care of you." 

He all but latches onto his arm, his tail even coiling tightly around his wrist as he pulls him along towards his room, ignoring everyone else who wants to talk to either of them. He might actually snarl and flare his wings and quirk along his horns and feathers to make people scatter.  As soon as they're behind a closed door he's in Duster's face, barely able to stop himself from wrenching his mouth open to get his venom down his throat, but thankfully, Tomura doesn't make him wait any longer. His hands are around his hips, even with the bandages, and he pulls him in, swallows away the bitterness all over Dabi's tongue without a complaint. 

His arousal spikes sharply and Duster gasps against his mouth. Dabi doesn't know if his venom has ever been this potent in his life and he doesn't bother to worry about any of their new clothes, shredding through Shigaraki's belt and his one in a rush to get his cock inside of him as quickly as possible. The venom is doing a lot of the heavy lifting getting Shigaraki as needy as he is, because he helps with the rest of their clothes, both of them kicking out of their shoes, their coats, and Dabi's claws catching on the bandages corded around his chest as they go. He manages to climb onto the bed, laying back and spreading his legs as slick immediately starts to make a puddle on the blankets, as he begs with short chirpy purrs and guttural sounds that are in a language so old that mortal scholars can't makes sense of it and demon ones can't even translate it properly anymore. 

Tomura moves between his legs and doesn't make him wait. He presses inside his body and Dabi's tail coils tight around his thigh to pull him in faster as he arches and moans, his whole body trembling with his need, his hunger so aching and high that he can't even feel the pleasure of being filled because he's not full. He is empty. His stomach is completely hollow with it and he needs food, energy, life. He wraps one hand tight around the back of Tomura's neck, his other clawing bloody lines over his shoulder. He needs more, he needs to eat--

His teeth sink into the junction between Tomura's neck and shoulder, breaking through fragile human skin easily and filling his mouth with life. The blood gushes over his teeth and tongue as he sinks them in deep, cutting through muscle and sinew and taking away a chunk of his flesh, swallowing it away and then opening his mouth to lean in and get more because that is finally, finally something in his stomach--

Tomura shoves two of his metal fingers between his teeth and Dabi can't help it, he gives a weak sob, blood bubbling up from his ruined tear ducts and the seams beneath his eyes. He's so hungry, and he feels helpless to it, to being beneath the mortal in a way he never has before, even as his blood spills across his skin and drips onto Dabi's, he isn't getting what he needs and he's going to die without more of the human. But he keeps his fingers shoved between his teeth, one deadly hand curled around his throat, one finger just barely raised from his skin, and keeps fucking his cock deep into his desperate, hungry body. Even with his venom, it takes longer than he wants it to before he feels Tomura's cock twitch and spill inside of him with a gasp. The ball of lightning that crackles up out of his throat is bigger than any he's gotten out of the other before, and Tomura finally takes his fingers from his lips so that Dabi can devour it with another broken sob. 

Tomura has always been the best tasting meal he's ever had, but the way his thunderstorm arousal spills across his tongue now is intoxicating, and he is leaning forward again to try and get more of his blood between his teeth too as he swallows it up. 

"No, baby boy, no more biting," He's not expecting the other to sound so soft and sweet as he restrains him with four fingers around his chin. Dabi whimpers. 

"Hungry, Tomu, please," out of his mind with it. He just needs him. Just wants this. 

"I'm going to give you your fill baby, but I can't do that if I'm dead," He murmurs, holding him still so that he can press kisses to the tracks of blood streaming across his temples as he cries. His hips roll into Dabi's deliberately, letting him feel every inch of his still-hard cock deep inside of him, how drenched Dabi is with his slick and his mate's cum already, and lighting up those nerves again. A little spark of pleasure that is fighting through the gnawing ache in his stomach. "Just keep holding on for me, firefly." 

And he goes right back to fucking him. He keeps Dabi restrained for the next two orgasms, until Dabi stops licking at the blood over his mouth and trying to arch up to get more between the spill of lightning from the mortal's lips, and is instead a writhing, moaning mess on the bed as his hole is fucked so roughly, filled so deeply that he can't keep his cum inside, more and more of it leaking out of him with each thrust. It takes until the fifth or sixth of Tomura's orgasms for him to manage even one of his own with his cock, and what spills across their stomachs is more venom than cum, gone lavender from how much comes out at once. The splash of that against their skin has them both moving harder, faster, shifting their position to make sure that Tomura's cock is going deeper, so that he can wrap his hands around Dabi's tail and wings, and bring his pleasure higher and higher, until there's no room for the hunger in him anymore and his brain feels like it's floated away. 

///

He has no idea what time it is when he feels Tomura trying to shift out from the circle of his arms and wings, his tail tangled tightly around his leg. Dabi does immediately start to growl though, his claws pricking at Tomura's skin to try and keep him right there. Not going away again. Not abandoning him to starve again. 

"Firefly," his voice is gentle, and he presses a kiss carefully between his horns. "I need to check on how deep the bite went and bandage it." 

Only then manages to activate the intelligent part of his brain that isn't just a tangle of his instincts and he shoots upright, nearly taking out Shigaraki's eye and reaching for his shoulder with a distressed cry, "Fuck, god, I'm sorry--" Can't believe he got so hungry he ate Tomura's flesh alongside his lifeforce. Would have kept doing it if he hadn't stopped him. 

Really not expecting the human to cup his cheek in his hand and pull him in for a kiss to silence his panic. "Shh, firefly, you don't have anything to apologize for. I made you wait so long, I'm sorry. I didn't think," he hesitates, thumb stroking over his cheek, eyes searching his questioningly. "I didn't think that you were only relying on me for your meals." 

And maybe if he hadn't taken a literal bite out of him last night, Dabi would have tried to play that off, but now his wings tighten nervously to his back and he forces himself to answer the question the other didn't quite ask. "I tried, but... none of them were as good as you. I thought I could just wait. I didn't realize how out of hand it got." 

"Dabi, this can't happen again." His heart turns to dust as surely as it would have if Shigaraki had put his whole hand against his chest. Of course it can't. Of course he wouldn't want to ever be in bed with him again after he ate his skin. The bite is a jagged, deep, awful thing crusted over so thickly with blood that it looks black. It must hurt. He must have bled even more than that. It was lucky he hadn't bitten any higher or he might have killed him. He could have killed him-- "I need to know how often you should be eating, so I can be sure that I'm around to take care of you." 

"What?" He doesn't know if his voice has ever been so soft, so scared, so confused. 

Tomura strokes his thumb over his cheek again. "I'll have to talk to the doctor-- if he can't get the treatments done without needing me to be away for weeks at a time, then I'll tell him that I don't want them." 

"But you do." 

Duster frowns at him a bit. "I want you more, firefly. I want you to be strong and healthy. I don't want you to be hurting like you were last night." The arm around him goes a little tighter and he pulls him in close enough he can rest his forehead on Dabi's shoulder, other hand shifting to the back of his neck to hug him close. "I'm so sorry that I put you through that, Dabi." 

He tangles his hands in Tomura's hair and tugs, forcing his head back up and kissing him. No venom this time, he doesn't want this muddied, wants to know that the other man fully understands him when he gasps into the space between breaths, "Mate me. Be mine. Own me, please, Tomura." 

Duster kisses him back but catches his chin to hold him in place long enough for him to look at him, brow furrowed, "...I didn't think that was something succubi still did." 

Of course he knows. His father was the 'Demon King'. Of course he knows that succubi used to be summoned and forced into contracts, owned by a mortal so that they couldn't feed any other way, so that the human could harvest functional immortality and youth, their body kept at its prime until the succubus escaped their chains or were killed. Of course he knows that after the ascension, bound succubi were tracked down and their keepers killed to try and bury that secret so that no one would be able to force them into servitude again. They worked so hard to have the ability to choose the way they do now. He would give it all up if it means that Tomura won't die unless he does once he's extended his life past a human lifespan. He would stay alive for eternity if it meant he got to stay at his side. 

"I love you." He didn't even know he was capable of that, but he doesn't know if any words he's ever said felt so true. He didn't even realize that was what this is, but he's certain of it. Somewhere between trying to kill each other to being one of the only people in the world he trusts with his life, he fell in love. 

Tomura pulls him into another kiss, this one hot with his emotions, with the starting threads of arousal and there is nothing sour or bitter in it to speak of manipulation. He knew that Dabi could give him immortality and he never cared. Would give up being a nomu, getting access to all of All For One, to make sure he stays fed. He kisses him and there's an aching complex sweetness layered in the taste of his storm. 

"I love you too, firefly." And he means it. "But are you sure you want that? It's dangerous--" 

"Only if... the human uses me. You won't. You would let me leave if I wanted, wouldn't you?" Even if that's not for another century, even if it would kill him. 

"Dabi, I will never make you do anything that you don't want to." He kisses him again, holding on tight, both of their arousal surging through their veins, seems very invested in having his mouth against his skin, breathing the words against his lips and nearly smothering away his answer as he starts to move his hands along Dabi's back. "How does this work?" 

"I," he whines as a hand goes to the base of his tail and curls around it, stroking deliberately and making his whole body tremble with pleasure. "I have to invite you-- Fuck, Tomura, wait. Your shoulder--" 

"It's fine," definitely not what he said earlier. "I'd let you eat me whole if I knew that it made you happy, firefly." 

He is going to turn into a puddle, he is dangerously close to starting to make one as his arousal grows and his body starts to produce his venom-ladened slick. "Tomura, you have to eat. Can't until you do, not going to kill you by accident." 

"Only on purpose then?" 

"Tomura," 

"Alright, come on, baby boy. We'll go clean up and then I'll eat whatever you want me to. And when I'm finished, I'll do whatever you need me to to make sure you know that I'm going to take care of you for the rest of my life." 

It's very, very hard for him to get out of bed after that, but it ends up being more than worth the wait. 

Thanks for reading!

#ask #asks #shigadabi #my writing #mha fanfiction #fanfiction #prompt response #dialog smut prompt #smut prompts

[will80sbyers]

Lucas

is a black kid in the 80s and has to deal with all of the bullshit from the world that is very much still racist today so I can't even imagine how awful it was at that time

bullied at school for a part of himself that he can't ever change

bullied for being a nerd too

finds out that his best friend is missing

his other best friend starts to believe more a random girl than him

watches as the body of his best friend gets found

feels deep grief for Will

gets in a bad fight with his best friend

gets thrown in the air from the new girl and loses his senses

finds out the government wants to kill his friends

has to escape from the government

has to hide with his friends from the government

has to watch people die in a gruesome way at 12

gets almost killed by a monster

has to watch one of his friends disappear when she sacrifices herself for them and thinks she's dead

has to see his best friend have a scary episode in the field at school

gets insulted and assaulted by a racist piece of shit

has to run from the monsters/demodogs

has to see one of his best friends get possessed and is scared that he could die

has to go in a scary underground tunnel where he gets almost killed with his friends

gets broken up multiple times with the girl he likes

gets almost killed by billy/Vecna in the sauna

has to fight a giant monster at the Cabin

has to watch one of his friends in pain because she has something in her leg

has to fight a giant monster in the mall

finds out that a person he knows is dead (Hop)

has to watch the girl he loves lose his brother

two of his best friends move away

gets broken up with the love of his life

gets bullied in high school until he decides to join basketball only for his friends to not support him

gets ignored by the girl he loves

has to see some of his friends from basketball beat up some of his other friends from d&d and can't do anything

gets probably peer pressured to drink alcohol at the party

has to see the girl he loves almost die in front of him

finds out one of his friends from basketball died

gets beaten up by one of his "friends"

gets a gun pointed at him

has to watch the girl he loves die in his arms in a gruesome way

has to watch a person he knew for months being split in two

lives through a scary earthquake that destroys his town

has to see the girl he loves in a coma

doesn't have any adult in his life to talk about all of this

Dustin

has Cleidocranial dysplasia: “ a rare genetic condition that affects teeth and bones, such as the skull, face, spine, collarbones and legs. The bones in people with CCD might be formed differently or might be more fragile than normal, and certain bones such as collarbones may be absent.”

is bullied at school for it and made fun for his appearance

finds out that his best friend is missing

watches as the body of his best friend is found

feels deep grief for him

gets scared when one of his best friends gets thrown in the air and hurt

has to escape from the government and hide

has to run from the government in the school

sees people die in a gruesome way in the school

gets almost killed by a monster

has to watch one of his friends disappear and thinks she's dead

is scared for his friend that is having a seizure

the mini monster he raised kills his cat

has to run from demodogs

the girl he likes doesn't like him back

has to go in the tunnels and gets almost killed

gets a bit heartbroken at the snowball before Nancy helps

keeps getting bullied all through the seasons

comes back and two of his best friends ignore him and go away early instead of wanting to spend time with him

decides to not go to his friends for help for the Russian thing because he doesn't feel appreciated by them

gets trapped in an underground Russian base

has to see Steve, his role model and friend, gets beaten up badly

has to fight a monster in the mall

gets shot at by the Russians

has to watch a person die

has to watch one of his best friend be heartbroken by her brother's death

finds out a person he knows died (Hop)

two of his best friends move away

has to hide someone that everybody believes is a criminal

has to watch one of his best friends almost die (Max)

has to go to the upside down and fight monsters again

gets hurt in his leg

has to watch one of his role models and friends die in his arms

comes back to the real world to find out that another of his friends is in a coma and the other is hurt

has to tell someone that their nephew is dead

can't talk about it with his girlfriend and doesn't have an adult to talk about all of this

Max

her parents divorced when she was very young

absent father, neglectful mother

abusive stepfather and stepbrother that probably beat her and definitely abuse her emotionally and verbally

has to move to a new place and be the new kid

feels like she doesn't fit in

gets constantly excluded from the party the first times they interact

gets hurt a bit when she falls from the skateboard

has to run from demodogs

has to fight his brother and drug him to save Lucas and Steve

gets ignored by the new cool girl that arrives

has to go to the tunnels in another world

has to break up with her boyfriend multiple times

is worried that his brother could be a serial killer

gets almost killed by his brother in the sauna

gets almost killed by a monster in the hospital

has a fight with Mike about her best friend

has to watch her best friend be hurt

get almost killed at the cabin

has to fight a monster at the mall

gets assaulted by his brother at the mall

has to watch his brother die in front of her

finds out a person she knows is dead (Hop)

her best friend and a good friend leave the town

Falls into deep depression

feels immense guilt for her brother's death

isolates herself from the boy she's in love with

her stepfather leaves and she has to change home

she's more poor

her mother drinks to cope and doesn't pay enough attention to her

she doesn't have anyone to talk about things with and can't tell her therapist the truth

feels suicidal at times and like she's a bad person

gets cursed by Vecna and has to consider the possibility she will die

gets almost killed

gets literally killed and suffers before dying

ends up in a coma

#lucas sinclair #Dustin Henderson #Max Mayfield #these kids have too much trauma

[afewproblems]

Warm my Cold and Tired Heart (Part Two)

You can read part one here!

The weeks that follow are a blur. 

Between getting the five of them through the gate back to Hawkins, and hauling ass to the hospital, it's a miracle that Eddie kept on breathing and that Steve didn’t bleed out.

Dustin had badly sprained his ankle from the fall chasing after Eddie, nothing that rest and a good tensor bandage wouldn’t help with though.

They really counted themselves lucky all things considered.

With the quakes and the gigantic fissures that opened up all over town, swallowing homes and businesses alike, the people that made it out were lucky to have escaped with their lives. 

All totaled, twenty-two people died in the wreckage, in the fires that had spread from the snapped power lines, or from the energy radiating out from the cracks in the earth. Jason Carver was one who had succumbed to such a fate.

Max was alive, though in a coma and on a ventilator, the doctors prognosis at the hospital was hopeful. She would recover from the coma, if the level of brain activity continued on its steady upward climb. With physical therapy they believed she would be capable of walking without the use of crutches, but the damage to her eyes was too far gone to be helped, Max would never see again. 

Steve tries to visit every day, between getting updates on both Max and Eddie, chauffeuring Robin and the kids to and from school and the hospital, he’s beginning to run on fumes. 

The Family Video is gone, swallowed up by the shifting ground, not that it’s a huge loss. There’ll be other mediocre minimum wage jobs for ex-jocks that didn’t get into college, right? 

All of the kids have stopped by a few times, Lucas and El spend most of their visits with Max in her room but they’ve both dropped in to see Eddie. Mike pointedly ignores Steve each time he visits with Will, glaring at him and asking what he’s even still doing in Eddie's room.

It’s a fair question, one Steve isn’t even sure he knows the answer to.

Robin visits after school twice a week, final exams are coming up in a few months despite half of the school lying in ruins; temporary portables have been set up for classes to continue running till the end of the school year. 

All of the Buyers are back in Hawkins, though whether it's temporary or not hasn’t been determined. With Hopper back on American soil, there is some question of his position as the former Chief of Police, if there is a chance he could return to the force or if retiring to California would be for the best. Nancy seems pleased at any rate, her visits with Jonathan are short but she always takes Eddie’s hand and gives it a small squeeze before she leaves, tucked into Jonathan’s side.

Out of everyone, Dustin is the only kid to refuse to leave the room despite multiple nurses and his own mother insisting the teen do so several times. Steve manages to coax him out to the cafeteria once or twice, offering to buy him lunch, while Eddie sleeps. It’s sweet but worrying, the kid is definitely risking a visit from the cops for truancy at this rate. 

Dustin snuffles in his sleep beside Steve, drawing him back to the real world with a start, the kid's legs are tucked up against his chest as he scrunches further into the chair. It doesn’t look comfortable by any means but Dustin is sound asleep. 

Steve reaches out and gently shakes Dustin, it’s nearly 7:00PM, almost the end of visiting hours. 

“Come on, Henderson, I don’t want to risk getting yelled at again, get up spaz,” he grumbles as Dustin burrows into the chair even further. 

“You’re one to talk, asshole,” Dustin yawns as he slowly disentangles himself from the plastic armrests. Steve rolls his eyes and stifles his own yawn, god what he’d give for a decent night's rest. 

“The stitches are looking very good Mr. Munson”. 

Steve pirks up at the satisfied note in the doctor's voice; they've withdrawn to the hallway chairs, despite Dustin’s obnoxious complaining, to give Wayne and Eddie privacy while they meet with the doctor. Dustin begins fidgeting next to him, worrying a hole in the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Steve reaches over to wrap his own hand around the kid’s twitching fingers, he gives them a light squeeze before taking his hand back. 

“Think he’ll get to come home today?” Dustin asks softly, his gaze trained on the door to the room. 

Steve shrugs, “we’ll have to see, it depends,” he mumbles, eyes trained on Dustin’s face. There is a telltale pinkness to his nose and a slight sheen to his eyes that plants a lump in Steve’s own throat. He reaches over and tugs the cap of Dustin’s hat down over his eyes, startling a laugh out of the kid.

“Don’t sweat it man, you’ll have your Dim back soon enough,” Steve says with a small smile, 

“My what?” Dustin laughs, turning towards Steve, his expression incredulous. 

Steve falters slightly, he’s sure he’s read the title before in the scribbler Dustin’s left in his car, notes referencing Eddie and his story, “your Dim? You know, the guy that runs your wizard game? The character story thing, right?”

“The D.M?” Dustin giggles loudly, an entirely too pleased smile breaks over his face, “short for Dungeon Master?”

“Oh…”

“God Steve, you’re lucky you’re pretty,” Dustin scoffs and shakes his head.

Steve scowls and folds his arms across his chest, sinking further down into the seat until his head connects with the wall

“He sure is,” a tired voice from the door says, jolting both Steve and Dustin from their seats in the hall. Eddie grins at them from the wheelchair he’s seated in, his uncle stands behind him with his hands braced over the handles at the top of the chair. The tired grey cast to the man's face that had been there since Eddie had been admitted still stains the bags underneath Wayne’s brown eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile now pulling at his thin lips. 

“Eddie!” Dustin crows, flinging himself across the hall towards the chair, Eddie laughs as two nurses scold them for the noise and potential jostling of their patient.

Steve stands up but doesn’t move, he stuffs his hands in his pockets to hide the light tremor running through them, it’s the first time he’s seen Eddie outside of the bed in three weeks.

There’s a healing cut across his chin and neck, one that matches Steve’s perfectly from the Demobat’s tail. Older bruises, now yellow and green, litter the pale skin of his arms. He’s wearing a loose-fitting band-tee, something old but clean his uncle brought for him. 

The clothes Eddie had been brought in with were completely shredded from the multiple bite wounds, even if the doctors had not needed to cut away the material to access the lacerations there was no saving them.

“You get to leave?” Dustin asks softly, as though he could scare away the answer he wants with his voice. 

“Tomorrow,” Wayne says, gently clapping his hands over Eddie’s shoulders, “Doc cleared him just now but we won’t be leaving till tomorrow morning”.

Dustin objects, loudly, “that’s bullshit, why can’t he come home now? We can help you get him home, right Steve?”

Steve stiffens and opens his mouth to respond but Wayne beats him to it.

“Look kid, I have to get a few things ready for my nephew anyway so tomorrow’s best”. Wayne says calmly, he meets Dustin’s disappointed stare unflinchingly and simply smiles, “you could always come by tomorrow to welcome him back home?”

Eddie laughs before wincing and wrapping an arm around his chest, Steve had managed to break two ribs while dragging Eddie back to the land of the living, something the doctors had assured him was fairly common the night they had arrived at the Emergency Room. 

He’s not sure if Eddie’s even aware that Steve is the reason behind his broken ribs, and he’s not sure he wants him to be. 

“Visiting hours are almost over, gentlemen,” a nurse says softly as she makes her way past the group, Steve nods silently and ignores the appreciative look the woman gives him. He can feel her eyes scan him from tip to tail but he continues to stare off into the distance. 

“You boys best get yourselves home now,” Wayne says as he shifts his stance slightly, readying himself to pull Eddie and the chair back into his room for one last night, “we’ll see you tomorrow”.

“Henderson,” Eddie says imperiously, waggling his eyebrows as he points at Dustin, “get a good nights sleep, I have had nothing to do in here other than plan out new ways to absolutely torture you guys so be ready for a brand new, absolutely face-melting campaign man!” 

Dustin crows with laughter and jumps up, pumping his fists into the air, “Hell yes Eddie! I’ll tell the others, we’ll be ready!” 

The teen turns to Steve and snatches his wrist before turning back to Eddie and his uncle, “Night guys! We’ll see you tomorrow!” 

Dustin continues past Steve, dragging him by the arm as he goes. Steve hazards a quick wave at the pair in the hallways, before turning away.

He misses the small smile Eddie gives him, a hint of dimples come to life as Eddie lifts his own hand to return the wave before Wayne squeezes his shoulders and wheels him back into the hospital room. 

***

A mist sweeps through the grass and over the path to the Buyers house, he can hear flower faced dogs prowling in the dark, terrible cries rip through the still night air as Steve walks down the path towards the tall figure exiting a vehicle.

Billy slams the car door, tilting his head until an audible crack reaches Steve's ears. 

"That you Harrington?" He calls out, reaching into his jeans for a crumpled cigarette pack. 

Steve breathes out slowly as he approaches, his stance is open, arms loose as his side despite the tension across his shoulders.

"Yeah it's me, don't cream your pants Hargrove, what are you doing here?"

Billy grins, teeth shine in the moonlight as he puts the cigarette between his lips, "What, a guy can't pay a visit to the resident King? Pretty boy too good for his title now?"

Steve grimaces sharply, he hates that name. 

Billy laughs and pulls out a lighter from his pocket to ignite the cigarette. He takes a long drag and breathes out, letting the smoke pour from his nose and mouth in a steady billowing stream. His movements seem clumsy almost, jerky and stiff as though his joints won't let him move to the fullest extent.

"What?" Billy drawls with a sneer, "King Steve, arrogant rich boy suddenly cares? Suddenly wants to slum it with the freaks?"

Steve swallows and shakes his head, "don't call me that, I'm not like that anymore--" 

"Aren't you?" Billy hisses, his face suddenly inches from Steve's own, up close the fetid stench of decay invades Steve's nose, small movements underneath Billy's skin catches Steve's eye. The bulging puffy skin twitches and bubbles as sometimes slithers underneath. The once blue green eyes have turned grey and flat like tarnished coins.

Steve rears back as this creature wearing Billy lunges at him, claws dragging through the space his head had been mere seconds ago. He stumbles backwards to the ground, the rough gravel sinks into the flesh of his arms as he catches himself.

A door behind him opens just enough to creak and catch the not-Billy's attention, the creature tilts its head and grins before its dull grey eyes turn back towards him.

"Too slow King Steve, can't save them all," Billy cackles before his face splits into five jagged pieces, flipping outwards to reveal row upon bloody row of teeth, blood and spittle flies towards him as the demogorgon leaps over Steve towards the door. Screams echo and reverberate around Steve as he slams his eyes shut and rolls onto the floor of his bedroom.

Steve gulps in terrified breaths as he tries to calm the racing of his heart, his shoulders quake and shiver as adrenaline courses through him.

It wasn't real, it wasn't real, they are gone, all of it is gone, the kids are safe.

He wipes a shaking hand over his face and lifts himself back up from the floor to his mattress, Steve turns his face to the alarm clock beside his bed, 4:49AM.

Steve sighs but it catches wetly in his throat, just for a moment. He shakes his head and roughly grinds the heels of his hands into his eyes, swiping any lingering fear and wild grief from his face.

He lays back against the pillows, not bothering to raise the quilt back over himself.

His gaze fixes on the ceiling, watching the blue light become spun with gold and pink as the sun eventually makes its way up over the horizon.

Eddie is getting out today. 

The thought spins around Steve’s brain as he readies himself for the day, repeating over and over as the clock hands on his bathroom wall tick closer and closer to 8:00AM. He only has a few more minutes until he absolutely needs to leave. Robin will kill him if she’s late again because he was, ‘futzing around the bathroom like a primadonna’.

Steve sighs and runs his hand through his still wet hair, his eyes travel to the products on the bathroom counter. His supplies are running low, although if he’s being honest with himself, everything is running low in the house. 

He scowls at his misty reflection, brown eyes trailing over the damp hair fresh from the shower. They linger on his drawn pallid face and ever purple bags under his eyes. Steve runs a hand over his face and through his wet hair and breathes out a long yawn.

The clock, noticing his hesitance, ticks loudly from the wall, 7:56AM.

“Fuck it,” he grounds out with an air of finality, flicking off the light and tossing on an old Hawkins high shirt from the floor. 

His racing footsteps echo around the empty house as he bounds from his room and down the stairs, wincing at the sound. While there wasn’t anyone else home to scold him for the noise, that didn’t stop him from slowing down as he made his way to the landing, shrugging his grey bomber jacket on and patting the side pocket to check for his keys. 

By some miracle he’s out the door and in the car by 8:00AM, the engine kicks once, twice before eventually growling to life. 

“Of course,” Steve mutters to the little glowing yellow symbols on his dashboard and the new angry red triangle in the center. He snaps the heels of his hands into the steering wheel hard enough to bruise before dropping his forehead to the top of the wheel. 

“One thing at a time,” he breathes out as he maneuvers the gearshift out of park and slowly reverses out onto the street behind him. The gas tank wasn’t completely empty and the engine did start. It was fine. 

He reaches up to switch on the radio and volume button, letting the music slowly fill the car up. It was all fine.

And I'll drink and dance with one hand free

Let the world back into me and on I'll be a sight to see

Back in the high life again

Totally fine. 

Robin is waiting for him outside of her house when he pulls up. She races over to the car, not bothering to wait for him to come to a complete stop before she is wrenching the door open.

“Do you know what time it is?” Robin growls as she slides into the passenger seat, tossing her bag into the backseat and wrestling the seatbelt across her sternum, “I swear to god Steve-”

“I know, I know--”

“No, I don’t think you do!” Robin barks over him as she turns to face him. Steve pointedly keeps his eyes on the road ahead while his grip tightens on the steering wheel. Robin scowls and firmly pushes the radio power button. The dulcet tones of Steve Winwood abruptly disappear, leaving them in a tense silence.

“What happens if I miss this test Steve?”

“You’re not gonna miss--”

“What happens if I’m late to Gordon’s class? You know as well as I do, that prick locks his door as soon as the bell goes and if you aren't in the room?”

“Then you aren’t in the class, I know, I know,” Steve mumbles tiredly, he lifts a hand to his face and roughly swipes it over his mouth, “we’ll be there in like five, it’s just you today, no kids”

Robin pauses, her head cocks to the side, “where are the gremlins today?”

“Eddie gets out today, they all managed to beg their way into being there to welcome him home”

Robin is quiet for a moment, though she’s still staring at him.

“And what are you doing? Besides not styling the hair?” 

Steve sighs loudly, gripping the steering wheel hard enough to paint his knuckles white, “driving you to school Buckley,” he manages tightly.

“EHHH! Wrong answer, try again?”

“Just drop it Robin,” Steve sighs as they pull onto the main strip, people mill about down the road, walking into shops that remained open despite the construction and rebuilding efforts. One nice thing about the near apocalypse, it certainly gave people a common goal and purpose. 

“Noooope," Robin says, drawing his attention back towards the road, "I don’t think so doofus, what are you doing? Don’t tell me you’re not going?”

Steve is quiet for a moment, “Why would he want me there?”

Robin stares at him, he can feel her blue eyes boring into the side of his face before she shakes her head with a sigh, “You really are an idiot sometimes Steve".

Steve bristles at the comment, “An idiot who is driving you to school every day,” he mutters mostly to himself.

“A very lovely idiot,” Robin croons as he pulls up to the highschool, she pauses as she unbuckles her seatbelt and grabs her bag from the back seat, “you should go see how they’re doing, what do you have to lose?”

“Thought you were going to be late,” he mumbles, still not looking at her. 

She sighs, “Fine, I have band practice today with Vickie, she’s going to give me a ride home, don’t wait up”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,”

“That is way too small a list Harrington,” she calls over her shoulder as the first bell rings, she waves once and disappears through the large front doors. 

Steve breathes in deeply through his nose and releases it slowly through his mouth, his head lolls back to hit the head-rest. He pats the dashboard twice whispering, “okay baby, lets get out of here, don’t quit on me now”. 

Steve turns the key, the engine turns and turns with a groan, “Come ON, please,” Steve whispers as he turns the key again. The engine groans and sputters but does not turn over.

“Fuck!” He cries, slamming his hands into the steering wheel again, “fuck, fuck!” 

Steve’s chest heaves as he tries to unbuckle the seatbelt, his shaking fingers fumble with the button. He suppresses the urge to scream as he finally rips the belt away and roughly jerks the door handle, shouldering it open. Steve reaches down to flick the hood latch under the dashboard and swiftly walks over to the front of his car to lift the hood and take a look inside, cursing and muttering as he scans the engine block. He’s not even certain what he should be looking for, it’s not as though his dad had ever gone over this sort of thing with him.

There’s nothing smoking, that's a start, he thinks bitterly to himself with a scowl.

Steve looks around the parking lot, there are no lingering students or faculty wandering around, his heart rate ticks up as he whirls around, head swivelling too and fro. There had to be someone?

“Come on,” he groans through his teeth. Steve breathes in once again through his nose and slowly out through his mouth - though it’s decidedly more laboured now. 

Steve drops the hood, letting it fall closed with a satisfying slam of metal against metal. He stalks back over to the open driver's side and slumps into the seat before closing his door. 

What the hell is he going to do now?

A sudden crackle of radio static startles a small yelp out of Steve, his eyes scan the car, searching for the source.

“Steve!” A metallic voice barks out, the sound coming from inside of the glovebox, “come in Steve, over!”

He reaches for the glove box latch and pulls out the large walkie talkie Dustin had given him. 

‘For Emergencies,’ Dustin told him sagely the day he had brought it over. 

“Steve! Come in Steve Harrington, over!”

Steve sighs and pushes down the talk button, “Don’t get your panties in a knot Henderson, I’m here, over”.

There is a cacophony of staticky voices that take over the walkie for a moment, the device wines sharply in his ears making him wince as he jerks the radio away from his face.

“One at a time assholes,” Steve groans, “or I’m tossing this thing out the window” he punctuates the thought by tapping the antenna against the glass of his window. He grins at the chorus of yells on the other side.

“Steve!” Dustin’s voice chirps over the others, “Eddie is out of the hospital!”

Steve holds in a groan and sweeps his hand through his hair. Its mostly dry at this point though it in no way has the same volume as it does normally. He ruffles his waves again, sweeping them away from his face. 

“I know Dustin, I was with you yesterday--”

“Exactly dude,” Dustin laughs over the walkie, “so get your ass over here!”

“Has anyone ever told you about your tone kid?” Steve sighs roughly, tapping his fingers against the cold steering wheel, “I can’t come today”.

“Why?”

Steve wracks his brain for something, anything to say - lord knows he isn’t the quickest on his feet when it comes to lying and Dustin is anything but stupid. 

“I got a flat,” he blurts out eventually, “yeah, must have hit a nail or something this morning,” 

“It’s nothing I can’t deal with but I can’t exactly come meet you goblins, not today anyway.” 

“Wait, are you still at the school?” 

“Drop it Dusty-Bun, I’m good”

“But--” 

“Say hey to Munson for me, Steve Over and Out.”

Steve isn't sure how long he sits in the car with his hands at ten and two while his forehead rests at twelve. The schoolyard is deserted though and there hasn't been a car down their road in awhile.

How on earth is he going to deal with the car. He could barely afford to continue buying groceries, let alone gas, and now the car is out of commission.

A tightness begins to grow in Steve’s chest, he should have had enough money to last him the next couple of months until he could find another job. 

But, his savings are beginning to dwindle, and the pocket money he had been bringing in from watching baby Holly, the youngest Wheeler, is not cutting it. He thinks back to the lunches he had bought for Dustin, in an attempt to coax him out of Eddie’s room at the hospital, but shakes his head - it's different if it's for the kids.

His parents had left months ago, some new business venture in Chicago that had required his dad on site to facilitate the start up, but two months had turned to four and four had turned to eight so quickly, Steve hadn’t even realised how long it had been. 

They had called earlier in the week to let him know the house was on the Market.

In the words of his mother, ‘Steven honey, there really isn’t anything keeping us in Hawkins so we’re selling the house’.

There wasn’t a sign up in the yard yet, but a realtor would be coming around sometime this week to see the property. It was Steve’s job to maintain it and ensure no squatters ended up inside their precious home while his parents were gone, something he was certainly used to more and more over the years.

His mother had mentioned something about the keys for the realtor but she had rattled off so much information, so quickly while Steve had sat there panicking he could hardly remember.

‘There are wonderful schools in the city Steven,’ she said while her son struggled to breathe on the line, ‘you could always try again?’

He hadn’t had anything to say to that, letting the conversation dwindle to nothing before his mother eventually said a soft goodbye and hung up the phone. 

How long did it take for houses to sell? 

The Harrington residence, being so far from the center of town was one of several other homes that was untouched from the fires and fissures that had opened up throughout Hawkins, would some other family purchase it? 

Where would that leave him? 

A sharp rapping on his window startles Steve, his body jerks away from the source of the noise causing his hand to bump the horn. 

“Shit,” Steve breathes out as he turns to his driver's side window only to see the face of Wayne Munson staring back at him. 

Steve fumbles with the door handle and steps out of the vehicle, Wayne’s pick up truck is parked just ahead of him, Steve isn’t sure how he didn’t even notice the man pull up. 

“Car trouble kid?” 

“Yeah, how did you--”

“Those boys aren’t quiet or subtle with their little radio, Eddie said you were in some kind of trouble?”

“I-its nothing really, just a flat, I told Dustin that…”

Wayne says nothing for a moment, his eyes scanning Steve’s face in the same way Eddies had just a few weeks ago, “look Harrington, I might not know much about a fancy car like this, but I can at least tow you to a garage down the road, I got the hitch all set up--”

“No, no that's okay, I um,” Steve panics, he can’t afford to deal with the car today, he tries to come up with a lie that sounds believable, “my dad has a guy that can look at it, really I’m okay”.

Wayne snorts and drags his arms up across his torso, “that right?” 

Steve nods, 

“I can take her back to your house then hmm, so your uh,” Wayne raises an eyebrow, “dad's friend can take a look for you?”

“It's really okay, I’ll figure it out, I--”

“Kid, just take the help okay? I’m not going to head back to the house until I can vouch for those boys that you’re okay”.

Steve feels his face heat from the tips of his ears and down over his neck. Shame curls over his shoulders as Wayne turns away to grab the equipment from the truck bed to hook up the beemer. 

Steve mumbles out a quiet thank you and follows Wayne to help.

“Then a left onto Loch Nora,” Steve says to Wayne as the truck meanders up the road, taking the familiar route to his parents home. 

Wayne hums in acknowledgement as he signals and turns down their street, he whistles sharply as he watches the homes go by, “Fancy car, fancy neighbourhood".

Steve flushes once again, “Um, yeah I guess”.

Not that he’ll be living here much longer.

“Which number is it?” Wayne asks, scanning the number plates on each side of the street

“Sorry, uh 409” Steve points to the right hand side, “um we can leave it on the street if thats okay?”

But Wayne isn’t listening, his eyes have narrowed at something ahead of them. 

“You moving Harrington?”

Steve whirls around to where Wayne is looking, the realtor is there, nailing a sign into the grass, the rubber mallet makes a muffled thwok sound as it connects with the post again and again, driving it deeper into the lawn. 

Steve tries to school his features, but the effect is lost with his wide brown eyes and downturned lips. This was not supposed to happen today.  

Wayne is watching him from the driver's seat with the same narrowed stare, he hums again before pulling up to the house. He leans back with an arm around the passenger seat as he backs into the space in front of the house. 

Steve is practically vibrating in his seat, just waiting for the opportunity to thank the man and bolt into the house,

“You know, Harrington is a well known name around here kid,” Wayne says softly. He shifts into park and turns off the ignition before turning towards Steve. 

“Yeah, I know, my parents are…important people,” Steve begins but trails off as Wayne waves his hand.

“Sure maybe,” Wayne says, “but that's not why”.

“Why then?”

“People talk kid, word travels farther than most people intend, or hope. Your folks are gone a lot hmm?”

Steve tries to school his features once more and bites his lip to stop the words from tumbling out.

Wayne waves his hand again with a sigh, “It's not really my business, but, if you do need anything you can call us anytime Harrington.”

“Why?” Steve mumbles after a beat, ‘there is always a catch Steven,’ his father would say, ‘people will always line up to take advantage of folks like us, you can’t let them get one over on you’.

“You saved my boy,” Wayne says as he stares straight ahead at the street in front of them, Steve freezes for a moment, not daring to breathe. 

“They told me someone had performed CPR on him, that's what broke his ribs.” Wayne shifts back and turns his head towards Steve once more, his brown eyes trail over Steve’s face and Waynes expression flickers for a moment, “you’re a good kid Harrington. I don’t need another reason”.

Steve swallows around a sudden lump in his throat, he looks away swiftly

“Thank you, Mr. Munson,” Steve mumbles

“Call me Wayne, kid,” the elder Munson huffs as he opens the driver’s side door, “freaks me out when people call me Mr.” 

It’s such an Eddie thing to say that it startles a sudden laugh out of Steve, he can see Wayne grin from outside the truck as he opens his own door to jump out.

Steve helps Wayne unhook the front of his beemer from the tow hitch on the back of his truck, Wayne patiently explains everything he’s doing when Steve asks and names each piece of equipment for him, it’s nice, not something his dad had ever gone over with him. 

Not that Robert Harrington would have had even an ounce of the seemingly unending patience that Wayne Munson possessed. 

“Thank you again Wayne, I do really appreciate it-”

“You keep thanking me like that and I’ll end up with a swelled head kid,” Wayne huffs, his eyes flick over Steve’s face before his grin falters for a moment, “you sure you don’t want to come back to ours?”

Steve shakes his head, he’s determined to hold Wayne's gaze this time but after a beat he drops his eyes to the lawn, “Uh, Wayne?”

Wayne wipes the grease from the hitch on a grubby chequered cloth from his back pocket before stuffing back into the same pocket, never looking away from Steve, he raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“Could you, could you not tell Eddie, about the CPR thing?”

Wayne’s eyebrow drops into a confused frown as he tilts his head, he opens his mouth but stops short, clearly considering his words carefully.

A bubble of anxiety worms its way through Steve’s chest as the words just seem to slip out before he can stop them, “its just, I don’t want to make him uncomfortable, I’m already not really his favourite person in the world and it just feels like I crossed a line - and I know thats really stupid to say considering, but--”

“Relax kid, relax,” Wayne says, raising his hands, he blows out a long sigh and steps towards Steve, close enough to clap a large rough hand over his shoulder. The firm weight is comforting, and not unwelcome, but at the same time, too much. 

The lump that had lodged itself firmly in Steve’s throat triples in size, he blinks rapidly against the sharp sting that begins to build and bites down on his lip. What the hell is happening, he’s not even that upset?

Wayne coughs and releases Steve’s shoulder before stepping back, “Like I said Harrington, if you need anything, you holler”.

Wayne nods one last time before grabbing his door handle and lifting himself into the truck.

Steve waves and watches the vehicle slowly climb up the road before disappearing out of sight around the corner. 

Steve lets out a long slow breath and scrubs his face with shaky hands before turning towards the Realtor walking towards her car. 

If he’s going to be homeless, he may as well find out how long he has to prepare. 

As the morning light fades to the afternoon and the sun slowly sinks across the sky into the horizon, Steve busies himself by tidying around the Harrington home. He moves the decorative pillows around the living room, rearranges the books in the small study on the main floor, and throws the sheet sets from his bedroom into the wash.

If he keeps moving, keeps his hands busy and his mind quiet, maybe he can pretend today never happened.

The Realtor, Pamela Hawthorn, Harner? It was something like that, she was a warm bubbly woman who swore up and down that their home would be sure to fetch a great price. He had smiled, a brittle wane thing that stretched across his face, while she spoke at a mile a minute - raving about the upgraded kitchen and warm oak Parkay flooring. Pam, ‘you can call me Pam honey’, assured him that she would be calling his parents to keep them apprised of the situation and would give him as much notice as possible when people were coming to see the property. 

Steve lets his thoughts drift and he nearly jumps at the abrupt rapping of knuckles on the sliding glass door behind him, he does end up throwing the plastic colander at the door in his panic and yells out a string of curses that would put Robin’s vocabulary to shame. Who the hell is in his backyard at 8:00 at night?

The sun set over an hour ago and the eerie stillness of his pitch dark backyard never ceases to make Steve uneasy ever since Barbara Holland disappeared all those years ago. However, the mystery visitor isn’t even attempting to hide in the shadows of the ravine that the Harrington House backs onto. 

Eddie stands on the concrete patio, grinning like a madman while waving at Steve through the glass.  

Steve drops the chef's knife he’s holding in a white knuckle grip down on the counter, unaware he had even picked it up, it clangs against the stone surface. He breathes in deeply through his nose and releases it slowly through his mouth for what feels like the hundredth time that day. 

He steps towards the door and flips the lock before sliding it open an inch or two, “can I help you Munson?”

Eddie grins widely and steps towards the open door, he slides the toe of his ratty chucks forward into the crack between the edge of the door and the wall, “what, an old friend can’t drop by to visit his favourite monarch?”

Steve grimaces and grips the door handle tighter, “It's late, why are you here?”

Despite the tone in Steve’s voice, the grin doesn’t fade from Eddie’s face, if anything it widens further, “I was in the neighbourhood, might be in the market for a new home with everything going on, thought I’d come for a tour - killer schools in this area ya know?”

Steve curses under his breath before moving the door open further and stepping aside to let the other man in,“you didn’t say anything to the kids right?”

“I didn’t know there was anything to say to them Harrington, just what my uncle told me. Said you were pretty tight lipped about the whole thing,” Eddie reaches up to and grabs a fist full of his own curls, he pauses for a second before quickly dropping the locks, “he also said you might need a friend to talk to?”

Steve rolls his eyes, and crosses his arms in front of his chest, “Right, so why are you here?” 

Eddie’s thousand watt smile dims a fraction, he leans back from the window but his foot remains in the door, “Touche, Harrington - though I kinda figured after we made it out of Mordor together, I’d have met the qualifications, but hey,” he holds up his hands, “I can go?”

Steve leans against the door and taps a rhythm against his arms, he meets Eddie’s grin with a scowl. Eddie puts his hands in his pockets and dips back on the heels of his feet before rocking forward onto his toes.

“Fine, just close the door and lock it,” Steve grumbles before bending down to pick up the discarded colander. 

Eddie removes his hands from his pockets and pumps his fists in the air, the wide dimpled grin is back, not that Steve’s noticed - not at all. He flips the lock up and moves to step further into the kitchen.

“Munson, can you draw the blinds?” 

Eddie pauses, eyebrows raised, “One would think you’d buy me dinner first before you got me alone and drew the shades?” he tucks his wild curls behind each ear before he pulls the cord, letting the vertical blinds cascade towards him. The weights at the bottoms of each fabric panel clack against each other as they swing back to their neutral state. 

Steve rolls his eyes, ignoring the molten heat that spreads over his ears and dusts his cheeks as he moves towards the sink. He rinses the colander before grabbing the steaming pot from the stove and draining the pasta that had been simmering on the burner. 

“Oh Harrington, you did buy me dinner!” Eddie says from behind his shoulder, he’s close - practically on top of him- startling Steve into nearly dropping the steaming macaroni into the sink.

Steve huffs, “Yeah right, you caught me at my most romantic Munson, Stove top Mac and Cheese”.

Eddie laughs as he leans back against the counter tilted towards Steve, his hands are braced against the counter ledge as though Eddie is moments from pushing himself up to sit on top. 

He regards Steve silently for a moment before theatrically clearing his throat, “So what's with the backyard? I thought I was touring a nice, safe neighbourhood?” 

Steve swallows, Barb's mottled grey face swims across his vision, “People disappear from backyards all the time Munson, can’t be too careful now”.

He looks up, catching Eddie staring, his forehead creased into a frown. Steve shakes himself and grabs the discarded chef's knife from the counter, the handle slides through his wet fingers - he grapples with the utensil for a split moment before his mothers voice rings sharply through his mind, ‘Never catch a falling Knife!’

“Shit,” Steve hisses as the silver blade slides across the inside of his right palm, it clatters to the floor and spins off into the baseboard, Eddie jumps away from the skittering utensil - nearly leaping up onto the counter behind him. 

“Shit,” Steve chokes out again, putting pressure on the cut with his other hand, he brings the wounded appendage close to his body, cradling his hand to his chest. 

"Woah Harrington, you good?" Eddie says as he jumps down from the counter and steps towards Steve, he's stopped short though, as though he isn't sure how to approach.

Steve nods and flips the sink tap on and bends down to collect the dish soap from the cupboard below the sink. He pours a bit of soap directly on to the cut and harshly scrubs before placing his hand below the stream of water, he nods finally registering Eddie's question.

"Sorry, yeah, fine, I was a clumsy kid so I can deal with cuts no problem, took a first-aid course a few years ago too since old habits die hard," Steve says softly before reaching for a hand towel from the stove handle, he presses the fabric into to clean wound, cursing himself slightly for the admission about the course. 

Eddie hums as he leans over but doesn't touch him, "I don't think I believe you were ever clumsy, weren't you on the basketball team?"

"And swim team, and track, and a bit of baseball when I was younger" Steve says eventually, "My parents thought it might help with it if I went into sports".   

Eddie nods, waiting for him to continue but the words, this conversation -he's never had with anyone. 

And isn't that terrifying.

"Which it did eventually," he mutters, fingers picking at a frayed end of his sweatshirt sleeve, "but it honestly just created more opportunities for me to get hurt."

"They wanted a tough kid," Steve says with a small shrug, he keeps his eyes trained on his hand, not daring to look up and meet Eddie's soft brown gaze, "someone strong."

"And what? You're not tough Harrington? King Steve that took down an interdimensional being and dragged me out of hell?"

No, was what Steve wanted to say, strong people didn't get their asses handed to them multiple times a year. Strong people didn't let nightmares consume their life. Strong people didn't feel like they were about to fly apart at any moment. 

Instead he shrugs and walks closer to the stove to reach the cabinets above the hood vent

He pulls out a old box of bandaids and a small bottle of peroxide his mother always kept there for disinfectant and unscrews the cap.

Steve pours a small amount onto his palm and watches the liquid fizz and bubble as it stings and burns against the wound. He shakes his hand out and grabs a bandaid from the package before startling against two hands that reach out for his own.

"Let me, I also know a thing or two about patching wounds," Eddie says with a half smile, "sort of comes with the territory of being the town Freak right?"

Steve bristles slightly causing Eddie to stop and pause, Steve panics,

"No I wasn't, I was just, you shouldn't say that shit about yourself man," 

"Why not? It's true," Eddie says with a shrug as he fiddles with the paper wrapped around the band-aid, he flicks it with a satisfying snap.

"The kids don't think so," Steve insists with a shake of his head as Eddie looks up to meet his gaze,"Robin and Nance don't think so, not after everything we've been through, and fuck anyone else that can't see that shit, they weren't there."

Eddie blinks, his mouth opens slightly before slipping into a soft grin, the world seems to narrow into a single point, Eddie's soft brown eyes that crinkle at the corners.

"And what about you? What does ol' King Steve think?" Eddie says softly as he gestures for Steve to give him his wounded hand.

Steve stills as warm fingers take his hand and remove the dish towel, it sticks to the tacky blood on his palm, he winces at the slight pull, "I really hate that name man," he mumbles.

Eddie hums and nods as he peels the paper wrapper away, crumpling it as he goes. 

"Well what do you prefer? I guess you're right, you're way too much of a Fighter to be a King, what about Sir Steve? Defeater of Demobats!" 

Steve laughs, the feeling of hands on his own, so gentle and warm, but broad, with long fingers smoothing the fabric of the bandaid into his aching palm, it's distracting.

"I think just Steve works,"

Eddie frowns and pulls back his hands after giving Steve's own a small squeeze.

"I'll find something, don't you worry."

Steve shakes his head to dislodge the wave of longing that courses through him, "Why are you being so nice?"

"I'm always nice,” Eddie declares, with a crooked grin, he slaps a heavy ringed hand against his own chest, “How dare you slander the great Munson name in such a way!"

Steve, with his now free hands, crosses his arms once more and leans against the counter with a smirk. 

Eddie sighs, "okay fine, you caught me. The kids were worried and then Wayne made a comment that made me a little worried and I know I don't know you very well but I just thought…"

"What?" Steve says, his throat dry. 

Eddie blinks slowly and shifts, leaning slightly into Steve's space, his eyes crinkle in the corners once again as he smiles softly, it's not an expression Steve has ever seen on Eddie's face before, "Who takes care of you?"

"What are you talking about? I take care of myself," Steve’s heart rate climbs as a sickly feeling washes over the back of his spine and into his limbs, this was heading into dangerous territory.

He'd let it slip to Nancy once, one comment about a month before their breakup that made Steve's heart race and his skin itch to think about.

"So," Nancy says one afternoon, they're sitting at the picnic tables just outside of the baseball diamond by Hawkins High. A light breeze tangles its fingers in her curly brown hair and Steve almost misses the question at first, "have you told your parents about us?"

"Hmm?" He says as he tangles his fingers in hers, taking her smaller hand into his own. 

"Have you told your parents about us?" She asks again, he frowns at the question and wrinkles his nose as Nancy stares at the table avoiding his gaze.

"Yeah of course, they know all about you," he says with a small laugh, they've been together nearly a year, how could they not know?

Nancy's shoulders drop slightly and her face loses the pinched expression she'd been wearing but her eyes remain on the table.

She's hesitating, a wave of unease grips Steve somewhere in his chest as she chews her lip and slowly raises her eyes to meet his own.

"Then why haven't I met them?" Nancy nearly whispers, it's such a departure from the confidence she normally exudes, it's awful to see.

"No no no, Nance, it's not like that--"

"Then what am I supposed to think Steve?" Nancy shouts as she rips her hand away from his own, he flinches at the change in volume and the sudden thunderous expression on her thin face.

"It's not like that Nancy, I swear," he whispers, head swivelling around to see if anyone was lingering around the field, his mouth running just ahead of his brain as the words tumble out, "they aren't home enough to have dinner with me, let alone meet you!" 

Nancy's mouth opens once, twice, before closing, Steve can feel a wild heat overtake his ears and cheeks as he slumps in the bench attached to the table. 

She's quiet for a moment but the world seems to narrow down to that single point, Nancy's shocked face as she slowly attempts to school it into something calmer. 

"Do they," she says eventually as she slowly reaches for his hands where they lay on the table. She stops again and shakes her head, "do you want to-"

"No," he cuts in sharply, 

"It's fine Nance, nothing to worry about," 

She looks at him, long and hard, her dark blue eyes glitter in the afternoon sun, there is worry in her eyes but she nods and looks away, changing the subject to her most recent math test. 

Steve breathes easier at that.

"Yeah," Eddie murmurs after a beat, "I know you look after yourself, you look after a lot I think."

That same cold wave of unease he felt with Nancy rises in his chest and grips his throat, not again.

Steve rolls his eyes and pumps his shoulders before pushing himself up to his full height --as though his strings have been pulled taught once more.

"Sure, sure,Munson," he says with the old King-Steve smirk, it still fits like a glove after all this time, "I think you should go though, I have a bunch of stuff I need to do tomorrow so…" 

Eddie stares him down, he raises an eyebrow before sighing eventually and stepping out of Steve's space.

"Okay," Eddie sighs, raising his hands in concession, "I'll head out. I'll tell the kids you're all good but just think about what I said, okay?”

Eddie doesn’t wait for a response before he heads towards the patio door, he reaches for the lock but pauses before spinning dramatically on his heel to face Steve once again, “Oh and one more thing Harrington,” he says with a lopsided grin. 

Steve swallows a groan and crosses his arms over his stomach defensively, “What Munson?”

“Wayne said he’ll still take a look at your car if you need,” a mischievous smile blooms over his dimples and warm brown eyes as he continues, “he said, and I’m quoting here so don’t blame me, ‘tell that Harrington kid to get his head out of his ass and take the help’”.

Part Three Up!

#stranger things s4 #stranger things season 4 au #eddie lives #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #hurt steve harrington #bisexual steve harrington #robin buckley is a good friend #steve harrington has trauma #let steve harrington cry #eddie munson is a sweetheart #stranger things fan fiction #afewproblems writes #part two #steddie #slowburn #steve x eddie

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Cruel intentions | chapter eight

summary: honestly tony must've delusional if he honestly thought you would stay quiet and you can kick some ass.

warnings: violence

authors note: I WANT TO GIVE A SPECIAL THANKS TO ANOTHER SUPPORTER ON KO-FI. I've had a really shitty couple of days and it's like my anxiety is awful and yes.

listen to: Good girls go bad - Cobra Starship (playlist here)

word count: 2.4 k

SERIES MASTERLIST + READ NEXT CHAPTER EARLY ON KO-FI!!

When you woke up from your coma, Tony was waiting for you on the sofa next to your bed with Pepper by his side. 

Everything ached from your injuries and the lack of movement from the past weeks that you’d laid on that bed, exhaustion settled in your bones -even though you had been sleeping for so long-. Therefore, you had to take a minute before you decided to move again, deep breaths as the burning of your muscles continued for more than what you would’ve liked, it felt like multiple parts of your body were going to break in half. 

“Don’t move, y/n,” Tony stated and your eyes locked with his.

You didn’t think you’d ever seen Tony so broken. He had cuts all over his face, even stitches above his brows, and a black eye that you recalled seeing at the airport in Berlin. He had deep purple bags under his eyes, which was something your dad would never get, it didn’t matter how many sleepless nights he spent but that never happened to him, his red-rimmed eyes were also an indication that he had been crying and you guessed it was your fault. 

It was usually your fault when he was worried and yet, you didn’t recall seeing him so broken at the airport, in fact, you didn’t even recall how you got from the airport to what appeared to be the medical wing of the compound. 

“What -Where am I?” you croaked, your throat tied and heavy. 

“There was,” Tony stated but he cut himself off quickly. “You were trying to run with Steve and,” Tony swallowed hard. “Wanda was holding the tower and, uhm…” 

It suddenly clicked.  

You were crushed. 

The debris. You were flying to the hangar right behind Steve and Bucky, you were almost there and then everything turned dark, you tried to fight your way under the debris but something hit you in the head and torso and you landed on the pavement. You felt like your lungs were going to explode and although your suit soften some of the debris falling on your body it wasn’t enough to avoid the damage. 

You remember Steve and Bucky trying to get you out as your raw screams ricocheted through the walls of the hangar and ripped through your lungs. You recalled Steve’s tears as he realized that he couldn’t get you out without help, you recalled tasting the blood on your mouth and telling Steve to go. You remember Natasha taking your hand and crying too, assuring you that you’d be fine, and then Tony’s screams, those screams were tattooed on you like your scars. 

Soon, everything had turned black. 

Until then. 

“Where’s Steve?” you asked Tony, who shook his head as he looked away. “Are they in jail?” 

“No, they aren’t but they are not coming back,” Tony muttered. “And neither will you, y/n.”

You frowned at his answer, your stomach-dropping, the bedroom seemed to be spinning around. 

“What are you talking about?” you whispered. 

“The suit, the experiment of being an Avenger, it’s over” Tony stated with a tormented gaze. 

You felt as if walls were crushing down on you, again. 

But if Tony believed you were done, he had to be delusional. 

It took you a couple of months, lots of physical therapy, and sleepless nights but nine months after your coma you were back on the streets. No one knew, except for Harley, who suspected your activities but never dared to ask. 

If your wild behavior for a couple of months before had any good outcome was that no one even thought about what you were actually doing at night. People believed the worst, that’s what people liked to believe about you, they liked to believe that you were partying, spending your trust fund money on drinks, dresses, and drugs. 

Instead, you spent your time working on helping people. You’d spent hours in dark, creeping on the rooftops of buildings with HAPPY letting you know the latest intel on police matters and even white-collar crimes, for the first year you’d decided to go easy and simply give any leads you could hack your way into to the police or even the Avengers. No one realized when a lead came from you and honestly, once they knew how good the tips that you gave them were, they weren’t so concerned with knowing actually who had given it to them. After that you started to actually fight, bank robberies or robberies, in general, were a good training method, seeing if a guy followed a girl home too and even sometimes you kicked the police’s ass when they were abusing their power. 

No one ever recognized you and you didn’t even give yourself a name. You refused to speak, you usually wore a black suit like the one Natasha used to wear accompanied by a mask that covered your face, even your hair. You’d reinforced it with some nanobots but the most important feature that you kept from your Iron suit were the gauntlets that you wore. 

Which came in handy, especially in the last sixth months. 

The last six months had been a ride. 

On one of your nights out you’d been following some men that had been following a girl, they seemed like the unfortunately normal cat-callers, but then one took a knife to the girl's throat and forced her to get into a vehicle. You quickly sent flying a microchip that was stuck on the rooftop of the car and followed them carefully by flying out of sight. You ended up in an empty parking lot where other men were waiting. It didn’t take much, you quickly sent the snipper bullets that you had, leaving them injured and on the floor before they could even know what was happening, you’d managed to rescue the girl and take her to a safe place.

When you came back to Stark Tower you spent hours researching, you hadn’t even realized it was the next morning until you heard Tony walking to his lab and you had to hide. You kept surveilling and getting intel, after a few weeks on the dark web you’d found a human trafficking network managed by the Russians on Hell’s Kitchen. 

You immediately left clues to the NYPD but after a few weeks it didn’t seem like they were going to do anything about it, they might send it to the feds because of the magnitude of the case but you knew that they were wasting time. Therefore, you decided to take it into your own hands. You’d been busting their trades and even installed an alarm that let you know any reports on missing girls or strange activities in the places that were commonly used for the trade-offs. 

Which had ringed again when you were with Peter at the party. 

You managed to kiss him goodbye on the cheek before you were bolting out of the apartment and grabbed the suit from the trunk of the car, you quickly flew to a port near Queens, full of containers, where they would usually place girls. You landed softly on one and peeked into the scene in front of you. 

There were around ten men carrying six girls, the men were around forty’s or fifties and as HAPPY told you on your earpiece, they all had a criminal history. You cursed mentally as you realized this might be the biggest group you would take on but you didn’t care and less about the scene happening in front of you. 

“If you move again, I’ll shoot your brains out,” one of the men yelled at the top of his lungs as the girls screamed in fear and covered themselves, huddling together.

And you decided that it was enough. 

“I wouldn’t do that boys,” you spoke and all the men turned towards where your voice came from, they tried to find you in between the shadows but before they could find you, you were firing at them with your gauntlets.

Three of them fell at the same time you heard the other’s guns clicking. In a second, they were firing at you and you launch yourself towards them, dodging the bullets before you landed on the floor with full force and grabbed one of the remaining seven by his upper body while launching your legs to hit one of the men that were behind him with your legs, kicking him to the floor, knocking him out before -thanks to the momentum- driving the one you were holding to the floor, making him hit his head against the pavement. 

You continued, raising yourself before firing with your gauntlet at another one that was about to shoot you and then continuing with the guy after him. The man groaned as soon as you jab him at his jaw and then, quickly took his gun, disassemble it quickly and use the tail of the gun to break his nose.

You huffed as you turned around and skipped more bullets, running towards the other line of containers, trying to keep the girls that were huddled together inside the container safe from the bullets. You only had four left but they seemed to be more prepared than the others, you stayed silently behind one container as the screams of agony and pain were filling the air from the other man who seemed to still be conscious after your attacks. 

But then you heard another gun clicking and before you could even take a breath, you turned on the corner of the container and found two of the remaining men, you quickly gave a roundhouse kick that knocked one of them unconscious while taking his gun and firing at the other guy's legs, letting him scream as he fell to the floor. You groaned at the sight of blood, if there was one thing you disliked was using guns. You enjoyed the guns that Tony and you had created, they weren’t completely lethal if you used them the right way and although you hated to think about your body count, you knew that it would be dangerous if you didn’t care.

“Can you stop screaming?” you muttered to the man that was already crying on the floor as he held his leg. You quickly ripped the cloth off the other guy's shirt and walked towards him. 

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” He screamed even louder which only served you to roll your eyes before tapping twice your temple so you could examine the situation on a more in-depth level. 

“You didn’t hit any major artery, Miss Stark,” HAPPY said on your ear and you nodded as he pointed to the injury and you saw in detail how it was. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered before you kneeled down and quickly made a tourniquet on his leg, just in case, before the police arrived and took him to the hospital. 

“What are you…” the guy muttered before you were finishing your knot. 

“That’s it, you can stop screaming it’s fine,” you grumbled with a sigh. The guy kept staring at you, bug-eyed and confused with your behavior, maybe it was off-putting, the person who had shot you was also the one that injured you in the first place but you didn’t care.

You stood up and started to walk away, trying to find the other two that were missing, you were hoping that they didn’t get away but you knew the members of the mafia, they often didn’t give up. 

“Thank you,” he whispered and you turned around with a smirk, although he couldn’t see it.   

“You are welcome,” you muttered. 

You quickly turned around but you regretted it immediately, you felt your stomach sinking as you gave a step back but the knife still found you. 

One of the men with a wicked smile sunk it down on your stomach and you flinched as you felt it tearing your skin and then your insides. You’d been hurt a million times before but you were so used to everything but close-range combat and although yes, you’d been training for over two years now; it was still something you felt off about.

Maybe you were fearful of that, of getting stabbed. 

You’d never been stabbed. 

Crushed? Yes. Fired at with guns? Yes. Launched into walls and through them? Yes. Grazed? Yes. Fell from the sky? Yes. 

You would usually shake those ones off, you would usually understand your body and how long it needed to heal, how it felt when injured in those ways. 

But this felt so personal. It felt like seconds turned into minutes that turned into hours as you gazed at the light eyes of the man in front of you. And yet, you didn’t budge, you didn’t gasp or scream at the burn that the knife was causing on your stomach.

Instead, you just felt so angry. 

You glared at the man in front of you and before your movements caught up with your head, you had fired the guy in the head, making him launch to the river, pulling the knife away from his stomach as you hissed at the move. Involuntarily you fell to your knees as you quickly put your hand in a fist and the gauntlet sprayed some regenerative liquid on your wound, it was the newest addition to your arsenal, newly developed by you and although you were planning to use it if some girl you’d found was injury, it still served the same purpose. You hoped it would stop the bleeding definitely or enough to fight the guy that remained. 

Especially now that he was getting closer to you. You groaned as you stood up and hid under one of the containers as you managed to dodge the bullets that were being filed against you. You wince as they hit the containers loudly and by the bullets falling onto the pavement and the screams from the guy of the leg that was begging his partner not to hit him, you knew he was getting closer. 

You took a deep breath as you prepared to fire one shot to the guy's head so he would stop but as you were about to turn around, you heard something, a twhip! 

And then a voice. 

His voice. 

“That’s not how you treat a lady,” someone muttered, the shots started again but to another place, and then you heard again that twhip! And then a groan.

You peeked and there it was. 

Spiderman. 

***

taglist: @walkintheprk @jeonzll @hoetel-manager @pbeckn26 @novaspietro @ayoelouise

authors note: ok last chapter was a little bit ignored and I’m salty about it but I still can’t believe that people actually liked it. im actually floored that someone actually supported me on KO-FI!!! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT. THANK YOU SO MUCH. lmk what you think and I always always appreciate feedback. moreover i would appreciate a bunch if you supported me on ko-fi even one dollar makes the difference! thank you so much!

FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS WELCOMED

DONATE: HELP ME WITH MY LAPTOP

#spiderman series #spiderman headcanon #peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker headcanon #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker avengers #peter parker fluff #peter parker series #peter parker angst #peter parker smut #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x stark!daughter #peter parker x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #cruel intentions #peter parker and reader #peter parker au #peter parker blurb #peter parker college au #peter parker cute #peter parker comfort #peter parker drabble #peter parker spiderman #peter parker masterlist #peter parker mcu

[daughterofthereaper02]

I’m sorry but I’m a whore for poly relationship with hangman, Bob, rooster and reader :) Could you do a civilian reader and maybe she gets into a car crash when their away, super angsty and fluffy. If not then reader gets really sick (flu) when their gone, again fluffy!

A/N: Please for the love of everything good, do NOT apologize for being like me! At least you guys are letting me write all the angst I want, I love hurt reader and the boys being broken over it. I'll do you two better though not only will  reader be Mavericks daughter so we get that angst! But I will also be making this a soulmate au! Why? Because I want them to be legally married in this and it is still frowned upon for poly couples. I'm living in my own little world and you can't stop me. Plus another request had come in that wanted a soulmate au and how else can I write a hurtful angst turned adorable fluff????? Also, the reader is a high school teacher. The other request was this one

Background: When soulmates meet their names get colored in, you don't receive those names until you turn 18 and the names appeared on your write wrist. Having multiple soulmates allows marriage with multiple people

There was always a loneliness that you had felt when your husbands were away on missions. You barely got to see them and when you did most of the time it was over a quick face time call. This time they were gone for two months and would be gone for another two weeks before coming home to you.

Today you couldn't stand it anymore and were on your way to go see your dad at his hanger. You were a lot like him in this way, you couldn't fix this situation but you would fix whatever was wrong on his plane. Plus you always got to hear stories about the stupid stunts he did in the sky. You were both very close and while you knew he wasn’t perfect, he did the best he could for you, sometimes going  above and beyond what other fathers would.

You had a pile of snacks in the driver seat of your truck, you knew if you didn’t bring something to eat that you both would forget to eat as you both got too involved in the plane. Something kept telling you to not take your muscle car today. It drove your husbands insane that you drove it but you never drove recklessly since you met them, they meant too much to you. They also knew the car was special because you and Maverick would spend a lot of your teen years fixing it up. So you had listened to that gut feeling and just took your pick up truck.

Everything was going good until you were going through the green light. Suddenly, a guy was running through the red light and t-boned you. Everything had blacked out for your as your truck flipped. Then you were breaking in and out of consciousness as paramedics came, the only thing you could feel was the hot blood running down your face, you tried to keep it out of your eyes but you couldn’t stay awake anymore. The last thing you saw was their names on your right wrist ‘Bradley Bradshaw’ in a sunset orange, ‘Robert Floyd’ in a baby blue, and ‘Jake Seresin’ in a forest green.

Pete was rushing to the hospital after he heard, he went to the front desk "Excuse me, my daughter just came in from an accident, Y/N Mitchell?" he said, his voice panicked. The nurse was checking through the system and found your information. She brought him to the waiting area, "She is in surgery. The damages were extensive, they are working on her right now. Someone will be out with more information soon. Sir, we tried to reach her soulmates, is there any way you can contact them?" she asked. Pete nodded shakily, "Uh... yes. Sorry, they're currently off on work. They're naval aviators" he said, pulling out his phone. It wasn't for 20 hours that Pete was finally allowed to see you and not for 24 that the news finally got to Bradley, Robert, and Jake.

They were calling Pete frantically and Pete had to tell them. "She is currently not breathing on her own and is in a coma. She has a broken leg, broken ribs, and had internal bleeding. It is still a coin toss on if she'll make it. The doctors are saying that her vitals are getting stronger. She is covered in bruises and she had a really bad cut on her forehead... you guys don't want to see her right now, not over the phone" He said, trying to save them from seeing you. You looked like you were dead, it actually looked like you had barely any blood to your skin. Bradley shook his head, "Mav, we've got to see her. Please" he said. Pete reluctantly showed you to them and he could hear them trying to not cry. He was looking at you, trying to will you awake.

It wasn't for another three days until you woke up, you started choking and tried to get the tube out of your throat in a panic. The nurses quickly came in and because they couldn't get you to calm down, you were sedated. This all had happened while Pete had stepped out to get a coffee and made a few phone calls to get the guys to be back home sooner. When he came back an few hours later, he was shocked to find you just waking up and with no tube. He set the coffee down and rushed over to you, placing a hand on your face carefully "Oh my baby girl" he whispered, tears rolling down his face. You lifted a hand carefully and wiped the tears away. He could tell you had no energy to talk but the way your eyes moved around to find your husbands made his heart ache. "They're still on the mission sweetie. I pulled a couple strings, they should be getting back sooner now. I don't know when though" he explained. You could only nod, your eyes closing again in exhaustion.

A day later, you were talking with Pete in your room. You were still a little lost on what happened but appreciated the love everyone was giving you. There were flowers in your room and get well soon cards from everyone your dad and husbands worked with. You also had lots of cards and little trinkets from all your colleagues at the high school along with from your students. Your period 1 class made you a large, two foot high card that was totally not made while they were supposed to be reading The Great Gatsby. All the students and their parents were sending you love because you were one of those teachers that everyone loved. You gave respect and earned it, you took the time with the kids. You had become one of the teachers that if someone made you upset, the entire school made that child miserable without you knowing it until they apologized.

You were sitting up and had a lot more color back to your face, no longer looking dead. You tried to call your husbands a few times but got voicemails each times. Everybody came to visit when they could, the ones you appreciated the most though were your dad, Penny, and Amelia. You had been sitting there, helping Amelia with her English assignment, just needing to do something when a few nurses came by, "Y/n Mitchell? There are some people here to see you" one said. Your husbands then came in, wearing their uniform and you teared up.

Your eyes teared up and they rushed to set their bags down, coming over to you, each kissing you deeply. “We leave you alone for two months“ Jake laughed, brushing the hair out of your face. You grinned, “I’m okay, really” you said and Bradley raised a brow, looking you over, you rolled your eyes playfully “The doctor said all the bleeding was mainly internal! It’s where the blood is supposed to be” you said cheekily. Robert groaned, you hadn’t noticed the others slip out of the room, “You are so lucky that you’re cute baby” he said, shaking his head.

Two weeks later, you were released from the hospital and struggling to get around. You weren’t used to the giant cast on your leg. Right on the foot in big letters was ‘BRADLEY’ ‘JAKE’ and ‘ROBERT’. How they managed to fit all their names was beyond you. You were moving around the house and all of them had started to fuss over you, none of them were letting you out of their sight for long. You appreciated it though because you were struggling to do anything and had a lot of work to catch up on.

Most of your time was spent watching movies and snuggling together on the couch, you were never happier then when you were spending the time with them.

#top gun: maverick #rooster top gun #top gun #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagines #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #pete 'maverick' mitchell #maverick #jake seresin #hangman #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman x rooster x bob x reader #robert 'bob' floyd x reader #robert 'bob' floyd #robert floyd #rooster x reader

[endless-oc-creations]

Mimi's Mini Plot Bunnies!

So, a few days ago the lovely @daughter-of-melpomene messaged me and wanted to know more about my boy Sean here after seeing his Pinterest.

And I thought I would do so by doing a little mini-info post about him!

Meet Sean Carter!

So! First off Sean is going to be paired with Rock Grimes and Daryl Dixon, a poly pairing of course!

Sean used to be a soldier, a combat veteran who served in Afghanistan and Iraq before getting a serious leg injury during the war. Because of this injury, Sean was honorably discharged and had to go through multiple surgeries and physical therapy.

During his time at physical therapy and recovering from the surgeries, Sean was staying at the hospital. Sean usually kept to himself since he didn't have a great relationship with his family and the friends he had, died in the war.

One day, Sean met a young boy, Carl Grimes, who was visiting his father who had gotten shot while on the job as a police officer. The boy was obviously upset since his dad was in a coma and was unsure if he would ever talk to his dad again.

So, Sean spent time with the kid. trying to distract him from the adult problems he was going through. by playing cards or just drawing things.

The boy's mother, Lori, seemed to appreciate Sean's help and always thanked him for being understanding and helping her son.

But then things decided to take a turn for the worse when the news started to talk about a virus outbreak that seemed to make people attack.

It was only chaos from there, the boy and his mother stopped visiting for a few days. Sean could only assume it was from the news and reports of all the attacks. Then the military came in and started killing everyone.

Sean managed to escape on his own during the chaos and in a twist of events found Carl who begged his mother and Uncle Shane to let him come with them.

With Sean's military skills, he proved useful and helped protect the group from the dangers of the Walkers.

When they found a safe place to settle down with a bigger group Sean for the most part still kept to himself, except for when Carl came to spend time with him, sometimes bringing a little girl that was also in their group, Sophia, from time to time.

About a month later, the group who had gone out a few days ago to scavenge a few supplies came back with another person.

The man who had been in a coma while Sean was in the hospital, Carl's father, Rick Grimes

💕 Forever Taglist: @bravelittleflower​ @sunlitscribe​​​ @eddysocs​​ @raith-way​​ @waterloou​​​ @decennia​​ @hiddenqveendom​ @aaronhotchstuff​ @foxesandmagic​ @booty-boggins​​  @asirensrage​​  @connietheecunning​​  @lucys-chen @arrthurpendragon @daughter-of-melpomene 💕

#mimi's mini plot bunnies #fyeahthewalkingdeadocs #oc: Sean Carter #Sean Carter #fandom: the walking dead #twd #the walking dead #the walking dead oc #twd oc #ochub #ocapp #allaboutocs

[spoctertech]

Warmth of the Soul-A Cyphmen Fic

CHAPTER 1

Cold

All life needs temperature regulation, though mammals can usually self-regulate their body heat internally. … well… Omen can’t do that. Heat is a very important part of Omen's life, he needs it to survive. That’s why he bathes in the sun, the glorious sun.

Omen shared this characteristic with reptiles, and right now, he is missing the beautiful sun. He yearned for the radiating ball of burning gas in the sky. So warm.

Omen sighed with a frown. He missed the heat. This is terrible.

Why should Omen be the one in this accursed world to be infected with this? Winter is the worst. Omen hates to bunker down for 3 months every year. His blood basically freezes if he tries to do anything outside. Do you know how terrible that is? It's so hard to move, and even after you heat up your basically out the whole day! Not fun. Just to be able to walk out of his house he has to wear more layers than an onion. Omen has to wear multiple sweatpants, 3 long-sleeved shorts, and 2 hoodies just to be able to not collapse.

Not only does this season almost put him in a coma it also brings more little children singing silly songs. Omen crossed his arms and let out an exasperated humph.

Omen wonders why Cypher decided to such a cold area. Or why he even agreed to live here. He knew what would happen every winter.

But his train of thought was interrupted by the rustling of sheets behind him.

But then he felt a wave of heat come over him. A surprising but not unwelcome development for the wraith. He felt his face get pricked with heat, the man behind him leaning him and putting his head behind Omens neck. He embraced the gloved black hands around his lower waist. Heat radiating from every spot he was making contact. It felt good, like coming into a hot room after spending the day in the cold. He felt the warm breaths press up on his cold next sending ripples of warmth through every nerve in his body.

But as quickly as he felt these ripples the faster they were ripped from his grasp. He normally wakes up before his love but due to the cold, he was restless. Omen would never admit this to anyone but Cypher but he loved being wrapped in the arms of his lover. He loves feeling connected to Cypher in body temperature.

But what he didn't like was the snow in his state. The evil icy snow, poaching his precious mobility. However, Cypher on the other hand LOVES winter, like loves loves. Sometimes he wonders if Cypher likes the winter more than him. Every year he will put up silly little lights and break out all of the toy snowmen to put in the front. Omen doesn't understand how, winter- at least for him- is horrible in every way.

Omen feels a shift behind him, and then, a barrage of kisses. The arms around him squeezing tight.

“Good morning, Omen,” Cypher said, Omen being able to hear the grin in his voice.

“How did you know I was awake?” Omen replied, in his raspy morning voice.

“You were restless” Cypher chuckled.

Shit. He must not have noticed, he has a bad habit of doing that. Omen just hopes it didn't wake up Cypher. But he was probably ready to frolic in the winter atmosphere.

One last kiss to his wheel and the arms around him disappear.

Stealing his cold once again.

Omen let out a sigh, watching as Cypher got out of bed and made his way towards the window. He pulled back the curtains and peered outside, his face lighting up at the sight of the snow-covered ground.

“Look, Omen! It snowed even more last night!” Cypher exclaimed, turning to face him with a huge grin.

Omen just shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He couldn't help but feel a little jealous of Cypher's love for the cold season.

“I'll be in the kitchen making breakfast, want me to make your favorite?” Cypher asked, already starting to pull on some pants.

Omen nodded, grateful for the offer. He watched as Cypher made his way out of his sight feeling the cold settle back in once again

With a warm feeling spreading in his chest, Omen put on his clothes and made his way to the kitchen. The smell of coffee and pancakes filled the air, and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of Cypher cooking away in his apron.

"Morning," Omen said, perching his head on Cypher’s shoulder

"Morning, love," Cypher replied, planting a kiss on his cheek. Sending warmth through him. Only letting out a sluggish “mmn”.

Omen craved the couch, the frosty air cripling him. He took a few steps and ended up plopping himself on the couch, buried in blankets. And a few minutes later Cypher walked over and handed Omen a cup.

Heat.

The cup felt so warm in the wraith's hands. almost as warm as the coffee residing inside. Omen held the cup with both hands, holding it close in an attempt to heat up himself. He wished he could suck the heat out of the cup he was holding. That would be nice. Though it still felt nice to hold.

At the moment, Omen was concerned. VERY concerned, for his boyfriend of course. The aforementioned was currently making breakfast with a large smile on his face as Omen sat at the table. The very troubling part being that he was shirtless.

Omen knew that Cypher enjoyed the cold. He basically thrived in it. But surely he has to be SOMEWHAT cold, right?

Meanwhile he felt covered from head to toe.

Just to get out of bed this morning, Omen was wearing a hoodie, with the hood up and closed as much as it could of course, a long sleeved shirt, and sweatpants. As well as two pairs of thick underwear. Which was uncomfortable but, the last thing he needed was his dick contracting frostbite.

He took a sip of his hot cocoa, letting the warmth sliver down his throat and spread throughout the rest of his body. He mentally shivered and tingles flew through his spine.

Omen glanced over at Cypher who was swaying his hips ever so slightly while cooking. A soft hum escaped from his mouth as the grease sizzled and popped. Cypher's grin was wide, and he bobbed his head to an inaudible rhythm while tapping his right foot.

Omen couldn't help but admire the man, he was a beam of light in any situation. Even on the gloomiest of days, or frosty winter mornings, he radiated joy. It seemed almost unfathomable to be down in his presence. However, Omen could sure try.

Winter is horrible.

A hand placed a plate before him, interrupting his detestation of anything chilly. As he glanced at it, a faint steam emanated from the contents, filling the atmosphere with the coziness the man craved. His stomach growled as he picked up a fork.

Cypher sat next to Omen. Putting a hand on his back and rubbing it.

“Omen, Are you ok? you're tense,” he said in a caring tone.

He directed a sharp look at the watchdog before realizing his own glare and softening his expression. Unbeknownst to himself, he looked and felt upset but Cypher could sense his mood before he even realized it himself.

Instead of responding verbally he crashed his head into the other’s shoulder. Letting it rest there as he soaked in his bodyheat.

Cypher hummed and pulled him closer, trapping him comfortably in his arm and continued to eat silently. Omen wasn’t even hungry, he just wanted to feel the mans signature warmth against himself. Cypher’s rough hand was massaging his upper-arm, and Omen was certain he was in heaven.

He felt himself start to relax, peace flooding his body as the hand worked circles on his shoulder. Such a tiny action, but the tiny actions are always the ones that hit home runs.

He didn't even realize it, but he was practically clinging onto the man. His arms snaked themselves around Cypher and tried to pull him even closer. His mind was calm and swimming with only one thought, “I love him.”

(I hope you liked it everyone!! You can follow my a03 acc[same name] Also sorry for the strange formatting, the a03 to Tumblr is strange.

CHAPTER 2

Cold.

Omen was scowling and crossing his arms.

Him and Cypher went out for the day to meet up with a few of the other agents. The ghost was wearing too many layers, he looked like shit. It was cold, blistering cold. Everything was covered in white.

Viper had the wonderful idea to meet up at a café and enjoy a nice hot cup of coffee with everyone. This would be a perfect idea…

IF THEY DIDN’T ALL DECIDE TO SIT ON THE PATIO!

It would be the worst day of his entire life, but luckily they had a large heat lamp on the patio. Omen respected that. That was awesome.

“What's up with him?” a snarky voice asked, joined by a finger jutting out straight at him.

Cypher stopped his conversation with the other three and glanced at the two of them.

Chamber was right across from Omen, both seated at the far left of the table. Just as the watchdogs mouth opened to answer, he was stopped.

“Why don’t you ask me yourself?”

“... Alright. What’s up with you? You look like a cartoon character.” Chamber’s expression could’ve been made out of stone, it was unreadable.

“Fuck you.” “You wish you could.” “Snarky bitch.” “Budget casper.”

Omen uncrossed his arms, and his hands slammed on the table. “TAKE IT BACK!” Omen was leaning forward, in a display of aggression. Meanwhile, Chamber was completely unbothered, maybe even slightly satisfied.

“Make me.” Omen was now the one who was pointing at the other. “I FUCKING WILL!” Omen began to get out of his seat but a large and very firm in its intent to keep the other down sat on his shoulder. The hand squeezed and Omen began to sit back down.

Reyna got up and walked to their edge of the table. She leaned over it, in between the two of them. Her voice hushed but frustrated, “You two shut the fuck up , you’re causing a scene. Now is not the time.” The ghost and sniper collectively huffed as she sat besides Viper again.

Cypher started, “Omen has a rough time around the winter season, due to being cold blooded.” Another squeeze to his shoulder. Being a seasoned engineer, the man really knew his way around his hands. Omen’s heart fluttered. ‘He’d much rather be home currently.”

Chamber tsk’d and Omen’s heart stopped fluttering. “Ah, so that’s why he ditches every meet up and training session when it's cold outside. Always thought it was suspicious how you always got sick every single winter without fail. Allergies my fat ass.”

“Actually i was sick, i get-” Omen noticed the sniper mocking him, making a stupid and punchable face while mimicking his speech. “...” Chamber stopped and stared at him, smirking.

One last squeeze and then the beloved hand that he loved so much returned to its owner’s side. Damn you, Chamber. Damn you.

CHAPTER 3

Heat.

Omen could feel himself blush and his insides squirmed. A hand that felt rough and hot was rubbing tantalizing horizontal lines on his lower back, as a pinky followed the motion slightly below his jogging pants. Lazy and slow. Omen was laying on him whilst being held by him.

Him and Cypher were attempting to watch a movie, snuggling on the couch under a blanket. Or at least, he is. Cypher is attempting something else entirely. Though his eyes were glued to the screen; Omen knew the watchdog was focusing much more on him.

Having been boyfriends for years and fiancès for months, Omen knew exactly what his man was attempting to do. Rile him up. Cheeky bastard.

They were watching a horror flick, which is how Omen knew there was no way in hell Cypher was possibly paying attention, Cypher couldn't handle being alone in a dark room. Omen side eyed him to get a good look at his face, it was as stoic as ever. He definitely had other things on his mind.

A woman on the tv screamed and was getting hacked to bits by a large man with a machete. Suddenly, Cypher’s hand felt lower than before and Omen felt his joggers shift slightly. The man's pinky was no longer just above his ass.

He felt red hot, his blood felt well past boiling but he was the opposite of angry. Which was highly unusual for him. He must resist the man’s temptations! The seducer beneath him had strong tactics, but Omen was sure he could last the night without succumbing!

The same pinky belonging to the man brushed past something. Instinct took over the ghost and he snapped his head to look down at the watchdog staring at him with his eyes wide. Cypher, who took his leisure slowly turning his head and craning his neck a little to meet his lover's gaze. Simply said…

“What?” His voice was soft and teasing and there was a smirk on his snout. Although tiny, it was immediately noticed by the man on top of him. “This is making you feel warm, is it not?”

Suddenly, all desire to speak was drained out of him. He slowly lowered his head back to the watchdog’s neck and averted his attention back to the movie. Sure, there was now a man being dumped into an acid barrel while still alive. But, Omen couldn’t focus on all the cool effects and budget gore. His mind was swimming with naughty thoughts.

He felt a longer finger push and prod around almost as soon as they both turned their attention back to the screen. Oh yeah, this is where it gets good. Now this was some real warmth!

He bit the inside of his cheek and waited for an intrusion.

Just then a phone rang, and not just the finger, but the entire hand disappeared. Omen almost whined. Yes, he almost WHINED . That same hand was now wrapped around a phone.

Omen heard a small “shit.” come under the other man’s breath. “It's brimstone-” Cyphers eyes met his and sent him a soft apology.

Omen almost saw red. Those- those- those COCKBLOCKS! What is it they want now? This is ridiculous. They’re always calling his cypher, HIS MAN, out of the BLUE to pressure him to work. This is ludicrous. Awful. BLASPHEMY. He should go down there, and give the snooty higher ups a piece of his fuckin mind! Maybe a broken nose too-

“-make it up to you later.” And then the watchdog kissed his forehead. Suddenly, Omen no longer had any desire to yell at people in positions of power. The tall wormed his way out from beneath his ghost. Omen’s hand quickly shot up and turned Cypher’s head back towards him. The man’s thumb was milliseconds away from hitting that answer button. His fiancè’s face looked so handsome in his hand.

“You better.” The watchdog smiled, hit the answer button and then walked away. An annoyance in his tone.

Though frustrated, the promise of later was enough for the wraith. The other wasn’t one to disappoint. He could settle for later, that’s fine.

But then again… there goes warmth.

Oh well. It’ll be back soon anyways.

(Christmas chapter 4 coming soon hopefully! Please follow for more if you enjoyed this!)

#valorant #fanfic #cyphmen #cypher #fluff #cuddles #modern au #snow #winter #fanfiction #ooc #cold blooded #anger issues #cypher x omen

[melatonindepicts]

Compulsion

(Click for better quality)

Corrupted!Nebula(Canopus) belongs to me. Inspiration for the designs: Shattered!Dream (Galacii-gallery) Nightmare!Sans (Jokublog)

Separate version under the cut + Info

Corrupted Nebula (Or Canopus now) had originally been living her life uncorrupted, in a relationship with Outer after the events of her original lore. One daylight cycle, Nightmare and his gang infiltrated that Outertale timeline, and easily killed Outer. Obviously devastated and full of despair, but still hoping (as any underswap sans would), she tried to fight them. Nightmare took interest in there being another Sans already in Outertale without any guardians interference, so he captured her. I won't get into detail, but she was broken in the time she was captured, constantly being hurt and pried for information she didn't have. Eventually, months later, Nightmare tried a new tactic with his magic, and in doing so, Nebula's soul, being so desperate for magic to survive, ripped a shit ton of magic from Nightmare's soul. He was put into a coma as Nebula was corrupted, and still filled with grief from Outer's death, she began to search in a frenzy for him, even though he was dead. She began to rip multiple Sanses from their homes, trapping them in her broken Outertale, collecting them like trophies if they were remotely interesting. She'd expect them to love her like Outer did, but when not given the response of love, she'd go on a rampage and often accidentally kill them. The star sanses were able to pacify her but only temporarily, since her utter determination to find him again was enough to break their spells, even if she was weaker. She usually spends her time in her broken home, trying to get the sanses she captures to love her, and breaks down in grief and longing when they don't. She's constantly in chronic pain from the negativity magic she got from Nightmare, and the only remotely positive emotion she feels is obsession and love, but unrequited.

#my oc #my oc art #oc lore #utmv art #utmv fanart #my art #TW slight torture mention #TW forced love mention

[artofzz]

Swordsmith Village Arc Review P1

Warning!!! Not spoiler free!!

Since the anime wrapped up, I thought I would do a long review on how I personally thought this arc was, mainly looking at the plot an not necessarily at the animation.

So, let’s be real here, the Swordsmith village arc, despite its conclusion, was not great at all. It could have been a lot better, had there been more efforts put into the writing.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am not calling anyone out or insulting the creator I am just trying to give constructive criticism and nothing else.

A big issue here to me is Tanjiro. We spend a lot of time showing his skill set and power-up which is hardly believable. The arc starts after he has been in a 2-month coma. I don’t know how much time has passed until he goes to the village but that hardly can explain his insane amount of progress. His strength feels more plot convenient rather than well presented.

We spent little time on fleshing out and showing the skills of the hashira. Unlike in previous arcs, where we got lots of insight on how strong a hashira can be, with rengoku and Uzui, both Mitsuri and Muichiro are heavily sidelined. On top of that the upper moon Muichiro is battling is hardly any kind of threat, and more efforts went to the upper-moon Tanjiro was battling.

I don’t know what reason was behind the fast pacing, but because of that there was little time spent on a major foe. When all upper-moons are hyped up as hashira killer and being in their position for more than a 100 years then the writer should put some efforts into delivering.

In the end since Tanjiro is the protagonist, he needs the more fleshed out antagonist.

Inherited Memories:

This is another issue. While the idea and concept is actually very interesting it is only used on Tanjiro and conveniently enough he sees just the right ones.

Since Kotetsu can guess what he might be seeing it is safe to assume that it does happen to multiple people and therefore make it odd that only Tanjiro has them.

There are multiple characters with ancestors that knew and interacted with Yoriichi. So again, the inherited memories feel just convenient rather than a well thought out concept.

It is aside from this very ridiculous that Muichiro did not destroy Yoriichi Type 0. All he did was rip off an arm. We established that he is much stronger than Tanjiro, not only through his hashira title but also showing that he is physically stronger. We also know that he does not care about breaking it or not. Yes his sword breaks during training, but he must have still done a ton more damage to that thing.

(I don’t really see much for a reason in Kotetsu crying over this because Yoriichi type 0 is not going to be relevant after this arc, and since the nice kindhearted Tanjiro destroys it. It is fine.)

On a side note, I have watched lots of reactions to this season and I must say it is ridiculous how negatively people thought of Muichiro just because of his bland nature. Like to me Kotetsu was just annoying, you know the typical annoying children animes tend to present you as cute or likable whereas they just are not.

(Besides, I might be the only one but when Tanjiro tried to interject and be again that ‘amazingly’ nice person to stand up for Kotetsu and then got knocked down by Muichiro, it was very satisfying. Since this is the point where I am getting very tired of the endless ‘oh look how nice’ Tanjiro is that the series forces constantly on us.)

Furthermore, this arc while seemingly being about the two hashira is relatively little about them and much more about Tanjiro’s progress. Which is another big issue. Of course, he is the protag and all, but occasionally, focusing on others and giving them time and interest is not a bad idea. It adds a lot of depth to a story.

There is nothing wrong with taking your time and properly showing other characters and what they are like. Your Protag does not make a whole story!! All the characters and concepts added around him is what truly make a story.

Another big issue of this arc is the sword that Tanjiro will receive. It is Yoriichi’s sword but at this point, we don’t know much about him at all and why his sword would be so special. There is no connection that would make us understand why the sword would be so important.

Furthermore, Tanjiro was doing completely fine with the sword he had the whole time, making it even more questionable why he needed the other one. Had there been much more background on the sword one would understand the connection. And had Tanjiro struggled a lot more with the sword he already had one would understand why he needed the other one. In the end, I kept forgetting that he needed a sword at all.

Another issue of this arc is a common Shounen issue and that is writing the arc in a way that the protag finishes off the enemy. For most stories, it hardly makes much sense. there is always a lot of effort put into justifying why the stronger ones cannot do it and too much focus on the mc. This is the second upper moon he decapitates.

Please keep in mind that all this is my own opinion and how I feel a story would be more interesting if you don't agree with this it is completely fine and there is no need to be upset in case you don't like my opinion.^^

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer season 3 #muichiro tokito #kny tokitou #kimetsu tanjiro #tanjiro kamado #kny kotetsu #swordsmith village arc #demon slayer muichiro #demon slayer tanjiro #kny nezuko #kamado nezuko #kny yoriichi #yoriichi tsugikuni #kny mitsuri #mitsuri kanroji

[pseudovilli]

Redesign of Halfa!Jazz

Not much changed design wise but, at the same time it changed so much. This is very, very loosely based on ‘Parlour children’ and ikiryo from Japanese folklore.

To start she is not the same type of Halfa that Danny is. She maintains her human form almost 90% of the time, cannot transform as easily or without consequence as her brother can. Most importantly, she has absolutely no clear recollection of anything she does in her ghost form. She instead believes all her ghostly experiences are very strange, emotional, and vivid dreams.

Unlike Danny, Jazz can only transform when she is facing a life or death situation. (Whether it’s due to her own power or from an outside factor) During this time, she sheds her body, leaving it in a coma-like state, and enters her ghost form. The ghostlier she gets, the closer to death her body is and the more territorial and protective of her home(her body) and family she is.

Generally, Jazz enters her ghost form to have some fun and she’d her self-assigned role of the responsible adult. She spends her ghostly time playing with blob ghosts, sneaking into college level psychology classes, talking to Bearbert Einstein, learning boxing from a fellow ghost, inviting whisps to hang out and provide good omens, luck, and ideas to her family.

When threaten, her skin takes a ghostly red, her clothes become paler and paler, her hair shortens, arms become longer and take on a branch-like appearance that can shred just about anything in her way. Jazz is not a forgiving ghost and any threat to her territory(Fentonworks/herbody) or her family results in the disappearance of said threat- no matter how sudden.

Her first transformation episode occurred during a lengthy hospital stay after what they doctors could describe as, a miraculous recovery from radiation poisoning or an extremely rare virus infection. She spent months with mysterious bouts of fever, lethargy, catatonia, a variety of GI symptoms, and incredibly questionable blood work. This launched an extremely scrutinizing CPS case against the Fentons and through home visits that ended with an extensive construction project of Fentonworks to make it as childproof and ‘safe’ as possible. The Fentons took various courses on child rearing, were required to pass multiple inspections, home visits, and court ordered psychiatric evaluations before they would be able to take Jazz home. Even now, Jazz has to visit an infectious disease doctor and neurologist to ensure her nervous/immune system are not further compromised or going to send her back into a coma.

The entire family does not talk about this time as it was very traumatic for them all. Especially in front of Danny, who was still in the womb at this time. Still, with time the Fentons slacken their tight regimen on keeping the child out of the lab as they drilled lab safety into them, and the kids are growing older and more responsible. Jazz, clamps up at the thought of her stay in the hospital and has never told anyone of what cause her to collapse that fateful day.

#danny phantom #my art #halfa!jazz #jasmine fenton #jazz Fenton #ghosts #phanart #headcanons #the fentons B- parenting

[chryzure-archive]

I would like to know more about Azure in general :0 (Also I'm in love with the fact that they were dating for MONTHS without Chrysi knowing... Azure loves his dumb gf sm)

(I also love it because… how dense do you have to be???? To be fair, Chrysi was trying to avoid having feelings for Azure since her ex was his cousin, but emotions happen regardless. Oh well. She’s married to Azure now, whether he likes it or not.)

GOOD, because I love talking about Azure! He is full of so much love and sadness and he’s such a tragic and beautiful and loving person.

I guess to start it off: Azure was born and raised in Paris, France, to a very rich, very influential witch family with a twin sister (younger than him by a couple minutes, which she cares a lot about and Azure personally does not). Since his eyes were the ones to develop red in the following months, he was chosen to be the official heir to the LaFaye family.

From then onwards, Azure was tutored by the best teachers—in magic and other subjects—any hour of the day he was awake. Sometimes his father would push Azure to not sleep for days at a time, just to perfect a new magic technique.

As a result, Azure grew up to be the perfect, elegant, severely depressed heir. His sister, Scarlett, hates him—since she has no magic and Azure does—and will play nasty jokes on him. His mother has never had any warmth towards him, and honestly, Azure would say he doesn’t even really know her. His father… well, let’s just say his father is awful and leave it at that.

He ends up getting a measure of freedom in his late teens (his classes are scaled back by a couple hours, so he’s allowed to have time for himself), and he ends up dating a girl from another influential witch family named Meredith.

She didn’t inherit her family’s magic, but she understood the world Azure lived in. For a while, he loved being with her. She was much nicer than the rest of his family.

But she also didn’t like it when he wouldn’t spend his every free moment with her. And she soon was just as choking and controlling as Azure’s father—but she was slyer about it, and Azure didn’t realize until he realized he was trapped.

When he broke up with her, Meredith almost went mad. She ended up using magic that didn’t belong to her to try and tie Azure with her. Instead, Azure fell into a coma for about a year. During his sleep, the magic Meredith used essentially warped him and cursed him with bad luck. It’s melded entirely with him once he wakes up, until it’s like it was part of him when he was born.

From here, what happens next varies on the AU, but Azure meets Chrysi regardless about a year or two later. Once he’s settled into himself and learned all the wrong things about his mental health (he’s isolating himself, tucking his feelings away, and now he’ll either struggle with sleep for days on end or sleep for just as many days)—that’s when he and Chrysi meets.

She’s the first one to pull him from his haze, and while it startles him, he finds he enjoys her company. She’s not afraid to tell him what she thinks and she’s so witty. She’s got a unique take on magic—and not only that, but she’s completely separate from the rest of witch politics. Azure’s both horrified and enamoured by this isolation Chrysi’s had from other witches.

All that aside, Azure—for being this rich French boy with impeccable manners—is a huge nerd. He loves photography, chess, collecting coins, learning tricks with coins. If he knew what yo-yos were, he would’ve learned tricks on those. Fortunately, Chrysi’s experienced with yo-yos, so she can teach him.

Side note: he managed to survive his upbringing by multiple tutors of his encouraging him to be a boy. That’s where he learned his coin tricks, where he learned how to enjoy photography, where he learned to play chess, where he learned piano (though not as masterfully as Chrysi learned).

Azure’s personality is very reserved, and he seems very cold to the outside view (well… he tends to be cold to everyone, but that’s because he’s never been allowed close contacts), but Azure cares about things extremely deeply. He and Chrysi are alike in that regard. He’s also quick to be exasperated, but he’s also very easily amused by those that surprise him (Chrysi, and his future best friend, Conni). He likes teaching people his knowledge. He’s really protective, and he loves Chrysi so deeply that he will let her go or otherwise separate himself from her to protect her—even though it feels like he’s being stabbed in his heart.

In the end… he and Chrysi are soulmates <3333

#i have lots of thoughts abt azure…. sighs #on that topic. i love the aus where azure spends his life dreaming of past lives #always loving the same girl and always having heartbreak #and then he meets chrysi irl in their current life and he’s like ‘HUH?????’ #chryzure reincarnation aus my beloved… i love having him remember everything bc of COURSE he would #he loves her so much that he’s writing that fact into his soul for the next time he is reborn #.asks #s.chryzure #m.filly✨