#he’s been in my brain for nine years your honor

[vivalabunbun]

Late Spring Blooms

Summary: Not even one word had been spoken between the two of you

Word Count: 5.1K (this was supposed to be short...)

Tags: Alhaitham x gn! reader, slow burn, fluff, just a lot of fluff, slight angst, Akademiya setting, toxic academia environment, mentions of bullying, both of you are students, mutual pining, when you just stare at your crush for like 4 years but never talked to them. 

Authors note: This was supposed to be a short feel-good fic, but I guess my brain just wanted to be a nerd. So I included some scientific theories that are kinda in debate, I just gave it my best shot. I write fiction not peer reviewed studies please forgive any mistakes

“A voltage is applied to two electrodes immersed in a solution of heavy water…”

All throughout the lecture hall there were the frantic movements of quills as desperate hands penned down every word that left the lecturer’s mouth. The fluttering of paper as students rushed to continue recording every detail, spurred by the fear of a question on exams yet to be announced. 

Rather than immerse themselves in the lecture, they’d rather save the details for a stressful night before said hypothetical exam. Frankly, it was a waste of time. 

“When the SuperWave Principle is applied, with raising and falling nested oscillations…”

Yes, this is a waste of time. A waste of his time. Alhaitham’s notebook and quill remained untouched on the desk in front of him. This course was nothing more than an elective to him, it had nothing to do with his own darshan. A class his late grandmother had listed in her well wishes to her grandson. However, Alhaitham would much rather prefer to be reading in the House of Daena. 

“And that is the discovery behind cold fusion energy production. This achievement rewarded me with much academic praise and my position as a researcher. As it innovated a new path for clean and unlimited energy. Thank you.” 

Applause erupted in the lecture hall, hands clapping together as forged looks of amazement masked ulterior motives. Alhaitham remained still, bored eyes continuing to observe the scholarly man as he stood at the podium. Even from the ashen-haired student’s perch among the upper seats, he can still see the swell of pride in the elder scholar’s chest. As the sea of green uniforms finally abated their praise, the professor step up to the podium. 

“Are there any questions for our honored guest lecturer?” 

The once bustling mob stilled. No quills moved, no papers rustled, and not a single student dared make eye contact dreading the thought of an unintentional invitation to speak. Of course, this was all expected. After all, which person would dare expose their own shortcomings? 

Each and every person in the room was once praised to be la crème de la crème, the cream of the crop, the valedictorians that spoke prepared speeches to their peers they viewed as mediocre. They were all once the top one percent, showered with empty words such as ‘talented’ and ‘gifted’. However, at the Akademiya, where the best of the best had been vetted and admitted. How can everyone be that ‘one percent’? 

It’s a simple answer. They can’t. Instead of spirits learning humility, they were crushed under the realization of reality. And just like a curious hand that had reached out towards a burning stove, their egos wounded and withdrew. If they cannot stand among the few slots at the top, then they’d rather hide among the ninety-nine percent. Listlessly carried by the flow of life, throwing their hands up to ‘fate’. 

Once again, as Alhaitham’s bored eyes surveyed the room, he is reminded why he had put off attending the Akademiya until recently. It was quite ironic for such an esteemed institution to have such pathetic levels of academic spirit. People didn’t come here to learn, they came here to ‘know’ and for a decorated piece of paper to hang on their walls.

However, on the basis of the last part, Alhaitham saw himself as no different. This was a crucial stepping stone in the preplanned path he laid out for himself. Even if it was tedious, it must be done. 

From the still crowd, one lone hand raised above, peeking out from the sea of green berets. It seems that even the professor didn’t anticipate this as a wrinkled hand gestured for the young budding scholar to speak. 

“I’m amazed by your discovery, sir. However, does it really work? I don’t think I’ve seen a recreation of your experiment.” 

The air in the lecture hall stilled, as hundreds of eyes honed in on the gear that dare squeak. The ego is quite fragile, and there is a positive correlation between the fragility of one's ego and the higher up their position is on the hierarchy. The scowl that formed on the guest’s face was predictable, as his haughty eyes glared at the fresh-faced student. 

“It seems that some people are suffering from selective hearing, or perhaps you just couldn’t grasp the concepts I’ve spent the past two hours explaining.” Offense drip off of every word. 

“But, according to standard practices, an experiment has to be rep-”

“Did the Akademiya just allow anyone in this year? My theory and discovery have already been entered into the akasha. Even a child can see the validity of my research.” The lecturer tapped one finger rapidly against the solid wood of the podium. 

“Still, I beli-”

“Did you not hear me? My research has already been entered into the akasha.” He snapped, the peak of the microphone rang through the air. 

“Sir, I-”

The professor raised his hand to silence the student, putting an end to this sorry excuse of an academic debate. The student’s figure sunk down in their seat, their seat neighbors scooting away as if there was something contagious. The show that had piqued the ashen-haired scholar’s interest had been abruptly halted. What a pity. 

“Can you believe them? Who would ask such a stupid question?” 

“‘Does it work?’, it’s been entered into the akasha for archon’s sake!”

“If I were them, I’d never show my face again at the Akademiya.”

Mindless gossip made his ears ring as a sigh left his lips, snapping the book closed in his hand. Alhaitham thought it was an unspoken rule that one must be silent in the House of Daena, guess common courtesy isn’t practiced much anymore. Carrying the book in one hand as he swung his bag over his shoulder he exits the library doors. 

His academic journey at the Akademiya had only begun about a month ago with the start of a new semester, but he was already bored. Lectures dragged the same material on for days. Professors gave their unessential anecdotes to slip in their own self-praises, and the busy work they called assignments. 

However, the worst part, for Alhaitham, was how his fellow students and aspiring scholars accepted everything. Sitting there in their seats back straight, hands busy creating a transcript of the entire lesson. Heads politely nodding as if they understood everything even though confusion was clear in their eyes. There were no academic discussions occurring in classes, and there were no attempts to encourage them. 

What’s the point when everyone could just use the akasha for answers? It’s quite depressing to see such a lack of academic spirit.

Alhaitham has decided that he should return back to his own method of self-studying, just as he has done before. He can cut out the unnecessary material and focus on subjects that interest him. Paying the tuition just to learn everything on his own, is truly ironic. 

However, as Alhaitham walks towards the empty pavilion he has to admit he is grateful for the facilities available at the Akademiya. It was a secluded space, quiet and away from chattering groups, students chasing after mentors and professors with half-heartedly written theses, and scholars’ boastful comments on the results of their experiments. Just as he rested his back against a pillar of the pavilion, he heard a muffled whimper. 

Tsk, great, there’s someone here already. Alhaitham readjusted his bag on his shoulder, pushing off the pillar as he began his search once more for undisturbed peace. His teal eyes couldn’t help but wander toward the source of the sound. Sight landing on your crouched figure obscured by the thick trunk of the tree just behind the white structure. For a brief moment, your eyes locked with his, before you jolted your head away from his direction. 

Cheeks stained with tears and face burning with shame. Yes, there is a famous saying that tends to ring true: The nail that stands out will get hammered. He recognizes you as the hand that dare raise a question. 

Everyone at the Akademiya is fueled by their own self-interest, whether it be for greater knowledge, a higher future position at the institution, or to have their name printed on an accredited research project by a renowned scholar.

Weak egos tend to rally under bigger ones, feeding the latter with empty praises in hopes of a return on their investments. If they could find a footing that allows them to climb up the stairs of the hierarchy, then they were willing to step on anyone. 

You just recently have been labeled as such, a stepping stone in order to get closer to a certain researcher. Tearing you down to build the bridges of connection with the reputable graduate. It was low-hanging fruit. How could a naive, freshly admitted student go against a published scholar with wealth and status? 

You were the losing dog in this race. And yet, Alhaitham still wanted to applaud you, if not for your academic spirit then for your courage. However, it is clear from the way you were trying to make yourself as small as possible, you needed your privacy. 

He focused his eyes on the path ahead of him, leaving the secluded space, his lips won’t speak a word of this event. A little further down the path, teal eyes shifted back behind him. Your hands were wiping the tears out of your eyes as you blinked, perplexed by the sudden appearance of a neatly folded green handkerchief. Alhaitham sees it as a fair trade for piquing his bored mind. 

“Excuse me, do you have a translation of the book: Khaenri'ahan Theory of Nuclear Fusion and Practices?” 

A familiar voice shifted Alhaitham’s attention away from the text he was translating, perhaps his mind took it as an excuse for his eyes to take a break from the barely legible script. You would think with all the funds the Akademiya had, they would be able to provide students with good-quality copies, but the printed assignment in front of him disproves that notion. It’s not good to strain the eyes. 

Once more teal eyes landed on your figure, back straight and head still held up high. You have more courage than Alhaitham originally thought. Despite the mocking sneers that have been thrown your way in the halls, you’ve just faced forward and continued down your way. Currently, you were asking for the assistance of a disinterested librarian. 

She brings one hand up to her akasha terminal, eyes lazily gazing at the information that flowed in front of her. Then after less than two minutes of searching, she stops. 

“No. Never heard of it. It’s not in the system.” 

“It’s an old title, but according to the library catalog, it should-”

“Did you not hear me? I just checked the akasha and it says it’s not here. Maybe you should make use of that terminal collecting dust on your ear before you come wasting my time.” The librarian cut you off rudely. Readjusting the green beret on her brown hair before she turned her back on you.   

The hand you reached out towards her drops to your side, your shoulders slouched a bit. There were now peering eyes focused on you, stressed students viewing your embarrassment and dejection as a welcomed dose of entertainment. Taking a deep breath you quickly made your way back in the direction of the dusty library catalog. Determined to find that book. 

The librarian had stated a blatant lie, how does Alhaitham know? The book Khaenri'ahan Theory of Nuclear Fusion and Practices was right under his resting elbow.

You were right, it is an old book, so old that it seems that someone had forgotten to input it into the updated database of the akasha. Or maybe someone removed it, deeming it no longer academically relevant. His elbow was now resting on the book he had just finished hours earlier, it was a better use of his time than attending mindless lectures. 

You seemed busy flipping through the pages of the library catalog, and the script in front of him is due tomorrow. He’ll finish his assignment, it's the least he could do to just ensure his passing of a class that hasn’t seen his face for some time now. 

–

It was late now, your eyes were beginning to droop head nodding back and forth. You shook your head, desperately trying to fight off sleep, eyes peeled on the text in front of you. Your attempts to find the book had been fruitless, but you were able to find different academic journals that substituted the same subject.

You didn’t need sleep, you needed to satisfy that itching feeling inside your mind. That inkling that what that lecturer had said was… the words in front of you blurred. 

Maybe a quick nap would help boost your productivity. 

–

Your eyes snapped open as your body jolted up. How long were you asleep? Your eyes surveyed the library. All around you were either passed out fellow students at their seats, or those running on nothing but caffeine and stress frantically pressing their noses against the books and papers in front of them. There were fewer people here than before you shut your eyes, signaling to you that it has gotten later. 

Your lips pressed into a tight line, did you just lose more precious time? The thought of assignment due dates was pressing against the back of your mind. But you just had to get to the bottom of this, it just doesn’t make sense to you- 

Your eyes widened at what had appeared in front of your seat. Khaenri'ahan Theory of Nuclear Fusion and Practices. But how? You had looked high and low, even breaking library regulations by climbing on the tall ladders to search the very tops.

Your head whipped around, searching for an explanation. Your eyes were just able to catch the slightest glimpse of a familiar shade of grey and green exiting the grand doors of the House of Daena. 

There was a small note on top of the book. 

I had the book you were looking for. There’s a diagram that wasn’t translated properly. On page 520, the diagram says: ‘maintaining temperatures of over 100 million degrees are necessary while regulating pressure and magnetic forces at the same time. These conditions are for stable confinement of the plasma and to maintain the fusion reaction long enough to produce more energy than what was required to start the reaction.’ Hope this helps. 

It was silly really, or maybe your tired mind was just getting sentimental, but your sight began to blur again. Not with sleep this time, your eyes were overflowing with tears. This small note, the neat handwriting, the book you had been searching for.

They were the sweet hands of reassurance you needed on your shoulder. Smiling like an idiot through your tears, you hid your face behind the small note. 

“How long exactly are they going to continue to deny the facts? Jeez, I wish I had their simple mind sometimes.”

“Yeah, it must be nice to have your head buried in the rabbit hole of ignorance.” 

It was now a new year, a fresh semester had long begun, but unfortunately, reputation and stigma don’t have a simple shelf life of just a year. Once more, Alhaitham found that silence in the House of Daena is not seen as a requirement by some students. Mindless gossip had no place in a sanctuary of high academia, but it looks like his opinion isn’t shared. 

Alhaitham had woken up later than he would’ve liked, meaning he didn’t have time to pick up any coffee if he wanted to get to his test on time. After he had finished, he made an effort to get to the café as fast as he could. But when he got there, he saw a sign announcing the café was closed for the day.

In short, Alhaitham was having a bad day, the grating voices that continued to chatter beside him were only fraying his thinning patience even more. 

Frustrated, his eyes followed their line of sight, to see just what subject was so pressing they had to gossip in a place of study and silence. They lead him to your figure, hunched over a thick book, one finger tracing each sentence line by line and the other detailing notes.

Even with the stacks of books that surrounded your desk blocking some of your frame, he could see your face clearly. Although you were trying to maintain a neutral expression, he caught onto the small quivering of your lips. 

“Like the information is already in the akasha, do they think they’re smarter than the combined knowledge of all of Sumeru?” 

“Yeah, well it’s always the stupidest people that speak the loudest-”

“You two are quite loud.” 

The students that sat beside him snapped their attention towards the man who had returned his eyes back to his book. 

“Excuse me?” 

“This is the House of Daena, the largest library in all of Teyvat, and you’re being loud. Maybe you should immerse yourselves in some books, for the academic spirit.” 

“Jeez, we weren’t even that loud, and the akasha-”

“What poor academic spirit. If the akasha was all you needed, then you are no better than any passing stranger on the streets. Why did you even bother with the entrance exam?” 

It wasn’t like Alhaitham to engage in such unnecessary conversation, nor make any excess problems for himself by getting in the bad graces of strangers. However, he was already having a bad day. 

The two friends sneered at him, before getting up and leaving the library. Finally, he can enjoy some silence. He could feel your gaze on him, but he didn’t look up to see the soft stare of amazement and gratitude you were sending his way. 

–

Alhaitham had gotten up briefly to browse the shelves once again. He had finished his book and am now looking for another to pique his interest. Really, the akasha couldn’t hold the vast amount of unspoken knowledge that books had.

The blunt facts and figures the terminal provided didn’t stimulate his mind the way shifting through the lines and characters printed on books did. It was truly a pity that the nation of wisdom didn’t appreciate the pinnacle vessel of information. 

When he had returned to his desk, teal eyes took note of the small square of baklava placed gently on a napkin. Beside it was the green handkerchief, neatly folded. Alhaitham had already gotten a replacement for said item.

Yet seeing how pristine the fabric was even after a year of not seeing it, sentiment crept up on him. 

“Excuse me. Food is not allowed in the House of Daena. I’m going to ask you to leave.” 

Ah, of course. Alhaitham was having a bad day today. 

It’s been a long month. With Summer break quickly approaching, it meant that assignments and exams have been crammed by every professor into a short window. Their long tangents must have caught up to them, as they were now pushing the responsibility of tying up the loose ends onto the students. Pathetic really. 

Still, the weather today was clear and the air warm. The bright sun was being blocked out by the thick foliage present on the branches of the tree Alhaitham rested his body against. He had spent the morning finishing all his most pressing assignments. A break was deserved. 

The soft rustle of leaves as the wind sway their branches were starting to lull the young man to sleep. But the sudden sound of grass getting flattened under shoes snatched that pleasure away. 

Tsk, it doesn’t matter. If he leaves his eyes shut and breaths steady then the other person will sooner or later leave him alone. The steps approached a bit closer then stopped just a bit away. He could hear the rustling of a paper bag and another object getting placed near his side.

As quietly as they could, the footsteps trotted away in a hurry. Once he felt that presence disappear, he lifted his eyelids. 

Beside him there was a brown paper bag, the mouth-watering scent of a shawarma wrap wafted into his nose. And the other object? A cup of hot coffee with a small note taped to it. 

I’m so so so sorry for getting you in trouble that time in the House of Daena! Please take this as an apology! I got the most popular combination at the shop. Please take care of yourself and good luck with your exams!

P.S. I just wanted to apologize again for getting you in trouble!!

Alhaitham could practically hear the sheer panic and anxiety from the piece of paper. Still, his eyes couldn’t help but soften. He was never the type to hold on to pointless grudges, there was no need for you to agonize over such a minuscule event. 

Contradicting his original plans for a nap, he took a sip of the hot coffee. It must be a different blend of coffee beans or a new experimental brewing method, the plain black coffee tasted pleasantly sweet on his tongue. 

“Did you hear? I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah, he was a fraudster! I heard he got stripped of his title and even his diploma got rescinded!”  

“I… I can’t believe they were right all along.” 

In the middle of Alhaitham’s third year at the Akademiya, the unfathomable happened. A young student that had yet to even graduate, a mere third year in the middle of their studies, had disproven an accepted theory. A theory that had gone through vetting by the top review boards, and even entered into the akasha. 

After years of long nights and shifting through books long forgotten by scholars, you brought all your evidence and conclusions to the Akademiya review board. 

You wagered your entire academic carrier. 

Your gamble paid out in full. Your findings were significant enough that the board called for an investigation, for another independent experiment of cold fusion to be replicated. A team of other esteemed researchers was established.

They followed every strict protocol for peer review, following each and every document step by the once haughty researcher to his experiment and theory to the highest standard of academic rigor. 

Their conclusion after a four-month trial? Failed experiment after failed experiment to replicate his results? There was no cold fusion. 

This caught the attention of the Matra. For all these years where did those experimental results come from? If his research funds were not going toward creating a better and more effective method of using cold fusion to generate unlimited energy. Then where was it? Their findings? 

Back into the pockets of a few seats on the review board. Funds somehow found themselves in the hands of scholars that had ‘peer reviewed’ his theory the first time around. 

A report from the previously mentioned independent review team detailed his offer of exorbitant amounts of mora for skewed results. That was the final nail in the coffin of his academic carrier. 

It was a great loss of face for the higher-ups and for their esteemed institution. They had let fraudulent nonsense enter the akasha, they allowed this nonsense to poison the minds of civilians and students. Punishment was swift. The higher up on the hierarchy of ego you were, the more crushing the fall will be. 

Now it was he, the lecturer who had ridiculed you with his eager followers for years, who was ostracized from higher academia. 

–

Alhaitham’s eyes followed the noisy crowd as they congregated around your frame. First years watching you with stars in their eyes, questions were thrown your way, asking just how you did it. How did you know? Your eyes light up the same way, as you detailed your research process of debunking that theory. 

Overnight, you became a star at the Akademiya. The same people who had once sneered at you were now trying to push their way through the crowd to get your attention. The professors that once viewed you as their most hopeless student, were now asking you to become their mentee. You treated everyone the same without any reservations. Smile beaming as you answered their questions. 

“Well, even though I have disproven his theory on cold fusion. I still think it’s an interesting path to explore. Maybe we were just led astray by a red herring. However, I think the most important lesson to gain from this controversy is that every theory should be viewed with some level of skepticism. Until you see the theory actually be put into practice, how will you ever confirm for yourself.” 

You have a really radiant smile, Alhaitham notes. It suits you.

 It’s too noisy in the halls of the Akademiya. He turns to walk away. Missing the way your searching eyes followed him, lips parted wanting to call out to him. Only to be drowned by the shower of empty words of praise. 

“You’re such a gifted student!”

“Wow! I wish I was as talented as you!”

“You’re just a genius!” 

Words that dismissed your years of sleepless nights, tearful breakdowns from pressure, and aching wrists from penning down pages upon pages of notes. 

Ah, the Akademiya was still the Akademiya. Even your breakthrough that shook the institution isn’t enough to spark a change in the environment that had been solidified in the marble of the building. Your eyes still followed this tall figure even after he disappeared from your line of sight. 

Yes, there still was a gust of fresh air that blew through this stale toxicity. You only knew his name… does he even know yours?

It’s finally over, the tedious task of attending the Akademiya has been completed. 

Alhaitham can now check that achievement off his list. The collaborative project he had been a part of might have fallen through. But the findings it produced in its short lifespan were fruitful. So much so that it granted Alhaitham a position as a Scribe and a sizable house in the city. More currently, it allowed Alhaitham to meet the last requirement for graduation. 

The diploma he holds in his hands right now was the result of his diligence, of just passing every exam with the highest marks despite not attending the class after the first day. Yes, this is the piece of paper he had ‘worked’ so hard for. 

All around him, there were families hugging, crying, and congratulating their sons and daughters, sisters and brothers, for graduating. Promises of big feasts prepared at home, or for a celebration in the neighborhood. Friends hugged each other as they said their tearful goodbyes. 

Alhaitham stood alone. 

From the very start, he was a loner, he knew this and he liked it this way. So why does his chest feel a bit heavy? The path that he had preplanned had no obstacles lining the way, every piece fell where it should have. Alhaitham already knows the answer, but he doesn’t want to admit it. 

Joyous occasions can really bring out the most isolating sentiments when there was no one to celebrate with. But that is fine, he’s got boxes of books to pack anyways. 

“Um… Excuse me, Alhaitham?” 

A voice halts the ashen-haired man’s step. Teal-orange eyes landed their sights on yours. You were dressed in your graduation robes as well, and a decorated cord hung around your shoulders. Signifying your academic accomplishments during your years as a student. Despite the nervousness in your voice, hands fidgeting with the brown paper bag clutched between them, your eyes looked straight into his. 

“T-this is for you. It’s a pita pocket from Lambard’s tavern. I… I just wanted to thank you for, well, all you’ve done. I-i know we actually haven’t spoken a word to each other these past few years but- but…” You paused, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. 

“Your gestures of kindness and empathy really kept me going. Even during the times when I wanted to give up, your actions really meant a lot to me. So, thank you Alhaitham.” Your eyes were staring back at him with pure sincerity. 

The warm late Spring air blew across your faces, tussling his locks as his eyes shifted from the pita pocket in your hands back to your eyes. The slight quivering of your lips signaled to him the anxious wait for his response. 

“Now’s not the place to eat.”

“O-oh…” The bag in your hands lowered. 

“However, I believe if you were to accompany me to Lambad’s Tavern, I don’t think he’ll deny a paying customer a seat. So, how about it?” The boxes at home could wait. 

“Oh?” You looked at him a bit perplexed at the sudden invitation. But it wasn’t long before a beaming smile broke out on your face. 

“Yes, I would love to!” 

It could have been due to the sweet air, or due to the lustrous look that dawned on your face, but Alhaitham felt that he could breathe easier now. 

It was a sunny afternoon, the perfect weather to do nothing at all. His justification for leaving his desk, piled high with new proposals and applications. Without even looking up from his book Alhaitham could sense the presence approaching his direction. His free hand reached up to turn off noise canceling, there was only one person who would come to find him at this secluded pavilion. 

“Haitham! I got us lunch from Lambad’s Tavern, the special was pita pockets today!” You held a brown takeout bag over your head, one hand cupping your mouth as you called out to him. 

His expression couldn’t help but soften, seeing your figure rapidly closing the distance between the both of you. Your preppy steps stopped just in front of the tall scholar, a small smile gracing your lips as you hid the bag behind your back. Eyes looking at him with anticipation as your back straightened. 

Alhaitham closed his eyes as a soft sigh left his lips, snapping the book in his hands closed as his back pushed off the pillar. Taking a few slow steps to fully close the distance. Gentle fingers cupped your cheek as he leaned down to place a tender kiss just below your eye. He can feel you getting on the tips of your toes, pressing your face more into his lips, he knows you can feel the small smile against your cheek. 

Pulling his face back, thumb still brushing against your other cheek, his teal eyes observed your smile that rivaled the sun.   

“Thank you for the payment, now let’s eat before the lettuce gets all soggy.” You pressed a kiss against his palm. The brown bag reappears from behind you. 

“Yes, of course.” He wanted to observe your face for a little while longer.

Perhaps you should start researching the energy that radiates off your smile, Alhaitham is willing to wager that this hypothesis holds more water than any dismissed notions of cold fusion. 

Fin~

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[jujutsukatsuki]

Memories || B.K

|| in honor of someone sending in a hate mail about my writing and specifically part one of this work, which you don’t have to read to understand this. Here’s part two! This is dedicated to that hater! Listen to Memories by Conan Gray to get the full effect! ||

It had been six months since she saw him, since he broke her heart. Since he walked out the door like she meant nothing. She saw him on tv often, Pro Hero Dynamite, every week it was a report about how he saved the city or was accepting a new award for his heroics.

It wasn’t fair.

She stilled lived in the same apartment, mainly cause they had signed a two year lease so she couldn’t leave. She had finally managed to get herself to stop crying when she would look at the old pictures of the two of them.

She watches the rain out the window, a black cardigan pulled around her as she sees the sidewalks puddled with water. She takes a sip of her red wine as a soft knock breaks the gentle silence of the apartment. The cat she had gotten a month after he left her, gently meows and jumped up on the entry table next to the dark oak front door.

The walk to the door is quick from her cozy chair that overlooks the sidewalk. She looks through the peephole and sees red eyes peering through it at her. She jumps before she opens the door.

“Bakugou?” The use of his last name makes his skin crawl, he groans.

“I just.. can we talk? Y/n?” He looks at her, he can watch the gears in her brain turn as she looks at him. She can see how wet his hoodie is and she can’t help but open the door for him.

He slides in and goes to walk into the living room but stumbles over the cat.

“Who put a fuckin’ cat there?!” He grumbled before letting the cat sniff his hand.

She watches him cautiously, like she’s a wild animal and he’s prey.

Somehow they end up on the kitchen floor, Bakugou is wrapped in a blanket, his clothes put in the dryer. Y/n has her back against the cabinets as she watches him, her knees are pulled tight to her chest as if they were a shield guarding her heart from him.

“I miss you.” His voice is rough, she can see the remainder of the black make up he wore under his hero mask.

“I wish you’d stay in my memories.” She bites back, her tone is sharp, callous, calculated.

“I deserve that.” He agrees and runs his hands through the damp blonde streaks, the black cat named Starfire had curled up next to him.

‘Traitor’ Y/n thinks in her head as she eyes her companion.

“I hate what I did to you.. I was trying to pr-“

“So help me god if you say protect me.” Y/n snaps, her eyes watering from the confrontation.

“Y/n.. baby.. you don’t get it..” he tried to reason, his eyes search hers for any hope that he can explain.

“I get it. I got it when I came home to a half empty apartment and you sat me down and then walked out. I understood when you blocked my number. I understood when you had security kick me out of your agency when I wanted to talk to you.”

Bakugou closes his eyes, the alcohol has gotten to his head and he feels ill, or maybe it’s the guilt for his actions.

“You protected me all through out high school and college and I supported you when you were in hero school and starting out and you faced greater threats then whatever it was this time. You didn’t leave me then. So what was it Bakugou? What the fuck was it?!”

His last name on her tongue feels wrong, he wants to hear katsuki from her pretty lips.

“I.. I got scared. I wanted to marry you but I got scared. I wasn’t ready.” He whispers and moves closer to Y/n, he moves to lay on the ground, his head in her lap.

“Please Y/n… I’m sorry… please understand.”

She can feel the tears fall on the bare skin of her thigh, she thinks about the last few months that they were together in her head. The way he had gotten a call about a nine thousand dollar transaction on his card, the way he always would stand in the closet and be staring at something but hide it away when Y/n would come around. His mom texting and asking when they could go get their nails done even when they had never done that before.

Y/n looks down at the sobbing drunk man and sighs, she rubs the bridge of her nose and squeezes her eyes shut. The sound of the dryer going off rips her from all thought.

“I’ll be right back.” She gently maneuvers out from under him and goes to get his laundry. When she returns with the clothes, he’s still on the floor petting Starfire and whispering to himself.

“Your mom is so beautiful, I wish I never fucked things up.. I miss her every day. I know I ruined her but I could fix it.. make it up.. god..”

Y/n clears her throat and Bakugou sits up quickly startling Starfire who scampers off.

“You can sleep in the guest room. You’re in no condition to drive or walk.“

Bakugou stands up, keeping the blanket tight around him.

“Okay,” he agrees and walks to where the guest room was, he loved this apartment, remembered the day the two moved in like it was yesterday. He opens the door and it looks different. Y/n’s things are in here.

“Wrong door.” Y/n says as she crosses her arms over her chest.

Bakugou turns and opens their old bedroom. The guest room furniture was now in here.

“Why?” He asks and looks at her.

“Couldn’t stand to be in there.” She looks away.

He doesn’t say anything else as he goes into the room.

“Oh. Here.” She grabs his clothes from the kitchen counter and hands them to him.

“Thanks Y/n.” He smiles, his head feels gross, he needs to lay down.

“Yeah. Well good night.”

She walks into her bedroom and closes the door, she puts her back against it and slides down it, hands running through her hair.

Y/n lets herself cry, she sniffles as she wipes her tears on the black cardigan. It’s not fair she tells herself that right as she’s fully put back together he comes in here and fucks it all up, it’s not fair that he can ruin her own self image of herself and run back to her like it meant nothing.

She takes her sweater off and puts on a big t shirt and crawls into bed. Within a few minutes there’s a knock at the door and Bakugou peeks his head in.

“Y/n?” He says “I love you.” He finishes.

Her eyes flick to him and she jumps out of bed, the door flying open to see his full body

“No. No. No. No.” she picks up a pillow and starts to hit him with it, all the rage she had built up exploding out.

“You don’t get to say that! You don’t get to come here and ruin my life over again like you did already! You don’t get to make me believe that we could be something again when you already proved that I was nothing! You made me feel like I was nothing! Don’t you understand that you’re holding yourself back from finding someone you actually love?! I was barely surviving after you left! It’s not fair!” She screams at him, tears rolling down her cheeks like the storm that rages outside.

Her face is red and warm and her body feels like she’s laying on hot coals. Bakugou gently grabs her and pulls her into a hug, she can faintly smell the cologne he always used, the one she still kept in her bathroom. She can smell the beer on him as well. She breaks down in his arms, she can barely hold herself up as he strokes her back and holds her.

“Shhh, I got you. It’s okay.” He whispers and pulls her to the bed, he lays down with her on his chest. He keeps a tight hold.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” He whispers over and over.

They fall asleep like that. When the sun comes up and shines in their eyes, they lay in the aftermath of the storm. Bakugou wakes up first like he always did. Y/n isn’t far behind when she feels gentle kisses on her forehead.

“Morning sleeping beauty.” He whispers

“Hi.” She muttered and closes her eyes once again.

Maybe they didn’t have to be what they were before, maybe they could be something better.

Bakugou gently sits up and holds her.

“I am sorry Y/n.. and I do miss you. Just please.. one shot..”

Y/n takes a deep inhale of the cologne that sticks to his body. She slowly nods.

“Okay.. one shot, that’s all you get.”

“That’s all I need. I won’t fuck up again. I promise.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki #katuski bakugou #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock Part 8

Part 1 Part Seven Part Nine Link to Ao3

Step 8: Let Him Fail

Babydoll. 

Babydoll?!

What. Was. THAT??? 

Eddie Munson had always been a flirt. A shameless, hopeless, flirt. All of his friends knew it, and they all accepted it with a modicum of grace. They were used to Eddie spontaneously proposing marriage, or declaring to duel for someone’s honor. 

It was one of his self defense mechanisms, a way to hide in plain sight. No one knew when he was actually getting crushes on people- Well no one but Gareth-  because if you flirt with everyone, then no one suspects you’re actually serious when it’s them. 

But this was the first time someone had ever flirted back. 

Eddie now finally understood why Jeff still turned into a blubbering mess anytime Eddie whipped out a shitty little ring he had made out of a wrapper from a stick of gum. He was pretty sure his brain was never going to come back down to Earth now that Steve Harrington sent it to the heavens with three stupid fucking syllables. 

BA-BY-DOLL

It wasn’t even- it had no- it didn’t even make sense! 

No one used the term babydoll except for middle schoolers who were on their first date and eighty year old men talking about their wives. Eddie should be cackling right now, laughing about how utterly ridiculous that little pet name was. It should be silly. It shouldn’t mean a damn thing. 

So why was it working for him?

Why did Eddie want to push Steve up against a wall right now and kiss him silly?! 

Why was his mind letting itself hope that maybe Steve…was being serious too? 

No. Eddie needed to get himself together. That was not happening. That should not be happening. That literally could never happen, and the sooner he accepted that reality, the better.  

This…this whatever this was, was nothing more than Steve teasing Eddie the way Eddie always teased Steve. That was all there was to it. The flirty freak was finally getting a taste of his own medicine from the teenage heartthrob of Hawkins High. 

Nothing more. Never. 

There would be no serenade from the balcony, no racing heart, no chorus of angelic voices harmonizing as Steve cupped his cheek and pulled him in for a kiss. And, most importantly, Eddie was absolutely, definitely, without a doubt, not about to have his crush on Steve Harrington come back in full force. 

Oh, who was he kidding? 

Eddie was pretty sure he had never been more screwed. 

Eddie was so preoccupied with trying to wrap his mind around what the fuck had just happened that he completely missed the small child sitting in his throne, and sat down right on top of the kid. 

“Ouch!”  

The tiny cry from beneath him jogged Eddie out of his fog, and the entire room began to try and hold back chuckles as he looked around confused until his eyes spotted Mike glaring up at him. 

“Steven? Why is one of your children sitting on my throne?” Eddie wondered aloud, asking a question that was far easier to answer than the rest that were currently taking up all the space in his brain. 

“Mike,” Steve sighed from his place in the doorway, hands automatically falling on his hips as he shook his head, “Move. Now.” 

“I like this seat,” Mike said with a bratty little smirk towards his babysitter. Steve rolled his eyes in an extremely theatrical fashion, tipping his head back and exposing the long pale column of his neck. 

Oh, it would be so easy to kiss right on his pulse point, wouldn't it? Steve would probably love that. He seemed like the type to be hyper sensitive, and he would make the most sinfully delicious noises as Eddie’s teeth scraped against-

Nooooooooooo. No no no no no. 

Eddie. Get your shit together. Now. 

“Jackass, you’re gonna get us kicked out,” Dustin said as Eddie mentally began to stab himself in the head. Mike replied by sticking out his tongue, and Dustin’s face screwed up into a kind of adorable scowl. 

“Mike, come sit with me,” Will offered. Mike grumbled, but immediately got up, scurrying over to Will’s side and sharing the chair he had dragged in between Kaiden and Gareth. This was the second time Eddie had seen Will act as the mediator for their little group, and Eddie had a feeling that it was a pretty regular thing. 

Now that his throne was once more vacant, Eddie sat down heavily, blowing all of the air out of his lungs in one big gust. He looked around the table, observing the changes that had been made to the layout. 

Eddie had expected the kids to find a corner to sit in, but instead they had taken the liberty to bring over chairs or scoot in with Hellfire members and start talking with them. It was shocking to see a group of preteens have no hesitation about throwing themselves in with, but Eddie had to hand it to them. It was damn brave.  

The thing that was more surprising was how happy the rest of the club seemed to be with this latest shift. For a group of people who had fought him tooth and nail on allowing Steve into the club, they seemed all too happy to accept the kids. 

Janet was sharing her seat with Max, their heads close together as they snickered about something that was definitely going to be exceptionally devilish. Eddie didn’t know much about Max, but he had a feeling that those two would be a match made in hell. 

Given the look Steve was giving them, Eddie had a feeling he would agree

Dustin had plopped a chair right in between where Frank and Steve were supposed to be sitting. He and Frank were loudly discussing the pros and cons of different character classes, both of them swinging their arms around to and fro with wild facial expressions. Jeff and Lucas were on the other side of the table, talking much more quietly and looking at something on his character sheet. 

Even Gareth seemed like he was into it! The second Mike sat down next to Will, Gareth coaxed him into a conversation about the campaign. They were both looking down at the table, an easy smile on his best friend’s face as Mike’s eyes sparkled with glee. Kaiden and Will were watching the two with soft little smirks, sharing amused eye rolls and gentle exasperated head shakes. 

Eddie’s heart ached ever so slightly as he watched Gareth patiently explain something to Mike, pointing to the map on the table as he spoke. Mike replied with enthusiasm, and Gareth threw his head back, laughing. 

That was the Gareth Eddie loved. 

Some of the tension in his shoulders fell away watching his best friend be the person Eddie knew he was. Gareth had somehow become a stranger almost overnight in so many ways, his vitriol against Steve poisoning his relationships with all of them. It was hard to be around him when he was like that, and an uncomfortable strain had come up between the whole club. 

The strain was gone right now, and Eddie was absolutely elated. 

“Sorry about the kids,” Steve said with an embarrassed smile, “They have no concept of boundaries,” 

“No, this is awesome,” Eddie replied immediately, “You should’ve told them weeks ago,” 

“Dunno why I made it such a big deal,” Steve murmured, his cheeks dusted with a soft rouge. 

“Can we get back to playing now?” Rocky asked impatiently, drumming his fingers on the table in front of him. 

The entire room turned their eyes towards Eddie and he made a show of stretching, settling himself back into his role. His audience had just doubled, but that only made him more eager to get started. Besides he had a feeling Steve’s kids would be expecting quite the show, and Eddie wasn’t about to disappoint. 

“You all tremble in fear as Kris Kringle decides your fates,” Eddie begins in a growling whisper, slowly raising his voice to a loud shriek, “Naughty…..Naughty….Naughty, Naughty, Naughty!” 

The kids began to quietly giggle, and an eager joyful energy swept through the room. Eddie cracked a devious little grin.

“There’s no hope for you now!” Eddie boomed in an over the top accent, “The only way off my list is DEATH! Give in and I will make it quick and, somewhat, painless.” 

The club shared a look. 

“Never!” Hellfire declared as one, and the game was on. 

Having the kids with them only added to the experience. Now that they had an audience, the club members were really getting into their characters. Even Steve was starting to open up more. 

The kids had been sworn to silence, not allowed to make suggestions or tell their respective Hellfire members what they could do, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t react. So react they did, shouting in anger when the party stumbled, giving victorious high fives when they dealt a blow to their holiday themed foe. 

But Eddie was crafty. Anytime Hellfire took a step forward, he would push them back two more, determined to give them an epic fight. 

Maybe a little too epic. There was still one whole final battle to get through according to Eddie’s notes, and it was nearly 7:00. Almost all of the party had escaped the toy factory, but Ex-Prince Stefan was still running around being chased by evil Santa. The ones outside were being swarmed by living snowmen controlled by Kris Kringle. They were throwing snowballs filled with razor blades at them, and the group’s luck was starting to dwindle.  

“We’re getting nowhere,” Janet groaned as Steve rolled a three, once again missing his chance to get out, “Let’s go back in and help him there instead. The snowmen will melt when Kris is dead.” 

“If any of us try to go back in, then Kringle’s lazer beam of pain will vaporize us instantly. You can only get out, not back in,” Kaiden glumly reminded her, looking down at the map where the six of them were surrounded on all sides by little paper snowmen dolls with tiny angry faces.

“If you all try running through at the same time one of you might survive,” Eddie snickered, tapping his chin in mock consideration and loving the glares being shot his way. 

The kids, who had all been starting to squirm around, groaned as a collective. Dustin reached down into his backpack, bringing out a notebook and beginning to furiously scribble something down. As the club continued to try and strategize, Dustin lobbed the paper ball over to Lucas, who caught it midair and studied what Dustin had written down. 

Eddie hummed to himself, watching the kids and wondering what exactly they were planning. 

“Steve- oh sorry- Stefan you just have to try again to get out again,” Jeff decided with a sigh, so preoccupied with their predicament he missed Lucas slipping out of the chair next to him and sneaking over to Will and Mike to show them the paper, “When we’re all out, we can attempt to run,”

“Run?” Steve repeated incredulously, as if the thought of running was simply incomprehensible, “Why?”

“There’s no way we’re getting out of this alive, newbie. Better to live and try again another day” Frank replied, patting Steve’s back and giving Eddie an annoyed look. Eddie shrugged, watching as all four boys ran over to Max and dragged her into a corner of the room, all furiously debating.

“No shame in running,” Eddie offered, wondering how Steve would take it. He didn’t seem like the type to run, but he was also used to Steve surprising him. 

“Why are you all quitting?” Steve said with mild disgust, obviously disappointed by the party’s lack of fortitude, “I’ve been being chased around all alone for like five turns straight, and I still think we can win!”

“We’re quitting because we have nothing,” Gareth snapped back, pointing at the board. 

“Dungeon Master?” Mike said, interrupting the spat before it could become an actual fight. The group turned as a collective to stare at the kids, seeming to only realize now that they had been plotting in the background this whole time. 

“Steve’s Child Number Three?” Eddie responded, watching Mike’s face instantly sour.

“Three?” He shot back instantly, “You think I’m third out of four?”

“I’m organizing you by height, small fry. Except for you Little Red,” Eddie tacked on, adoring the completely cute smirk that fell onto Max’s face when he said it. 

“Could we potentially give Steve just one single suggestion?” Dustin asked before Mike could open his big fat mouth and ruin their opportunity, “Just one. Not even a suggestion, really! Just an… an observation,”

An observation. In any other situation, with any other person, it would be an automatic no, but Eddie was intrigued to see what might come of this unexpected turn of events. 

Still, appearances had to be maintained.

“I don’t know,” Eddie said, stretching out the last word as far as it would go, “I don’t remember Stefan’s character sheet including any ghosts of Christmas’ past, present, or future.” 

“Oh c’mon, Babydoll,” Steve said with a far too adorable pout. He made his eyes glisten ever so slightly, which was an entirely unfair move, propping his chin up on one fist and giving Eddie the most perfect sad puppy face he had ever seen, “You still owe me,” 

“Fuck you,” Eddie said immediately, trying to ignore the sharp sudden race of his heart and the way that even his ears were warm at this moment. He threw himself into the scolding mother goose role, knowing that if he stayed as Eddie Munson, he would not be able to resist kissing the tip of Steve’s nose.

“I am your Dungeon Master right now, Stefan, and you will treat me with the respect that comes along with that title,” Eddie said, wagging his finger at Steve and pretending like his hands weren’t shaking ever so slightly. 

Steve chuckled softly, dipping his head down towards his chest bringing just his eyes up and giving Eddie a bashful grin. 

“I’m so sorry,” Steve said, not sounding sorry in the slightest. He clasped his hands over his heart and began to plead. 

“Pleaseeeee, oh wise and smart Dungeon Master. Please let my brats give me just a single clue.”

The rest of Hellfire began to share glances, some hiding smiles behind their hands. The kids however had all seemed to focus on just a single word of Steve’s begging, and not the absolutely sinful sound of his voice. 

“Brats?!” Lucas scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “Never mind let him die by Evil Santa,” 

Eddie snorted, shaking his head. There was a heavenly glow in his chest, and the entire room felt like it was flooded with light. 

“Go ahead,” He sighed, nodding towards the kids. Steve beamed, practically skipping over as the kids reached up and yanked him down to their height so they could whisper in his ear. Eddie watched the sweet sight for a second before someone clearing their throat to his right caught his attention. 

The rest of the club was looking at him with raised brows. The glow disappeared, and the light vanished. He threw them a quick bird, hoping they would just fuck off. Janet shook her head subtly pointing towards the kids and Steve, her eyes wide. 

Oh. Not towards them. Towards the chalkboard that they were standing directly next to. 

Jesus F’in Christ. Eddie’s heart was running for a completely different reason.  

“Really?” Steve said out loud, straightening up and looking at the kids. The boys nodded together and Max shrugged. Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. 

“Okay,” Steve said in a dubious voice, coming back to the table and waiting until the kids were back in their appointed seats before turning to Eddie. Oh god. This was it. They had been caught. 

“Eddie- sorry Dungeon Master, is Frank’s telephone spell still active?”

“Bard Franklin Fitzman’s telepathic tune is available for 3 more turns.” Eddie corrected with a breath of relief. Steve hadn’t found out. Then his brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what the kids had told Steve. 

Why would they care about Frank’s spell? 

“Uh Stefan? That was to try and control the snowmen, and it didn’t work. Their intelligence is ‘too low to be manipulated’,” Frank explained, using air quotes around the last part saying what Eddie had told him word for word when he had tried to control the snowmen and failed. 

“Technically we’re creatures aren’t we? Use the telepathic bond on me,” Steve said, his tone naturally slipping into a leadership role. It wasn’t exactly a command, but it wasn’t quite a suggestion either. 

Eddie half expected Frank to bristle at that, but Frank just nodded along. 

“Am I allow- you know what? Yeah. I use the telepathic bond on Stefan,” Frank agreed, throwing up his hands.  

Well, did that count as progress? Maybe. Eddie doubted that he would have listened to Steve’s suggestion before today. But it might’ve just been because this was the kids’ plan, not Steve’s. 

“Roll a d8,” Eddie said, shrugging. This was unprecedented, completely off script, but interesting. Fine. They could do it, but it would take a lot, “You’ll need at least a 7 to make this work though, it’s a highly unusual way to use the spell,” 

Frank grabbed his die and rolled it across the table. 

Seven. 

Damn it.

“Unexpectedly, Stefan begins to hear a familiar voice in his head. He ducks under another red and white pillar just as Kringle’s sword hits the wood right where his head just was.” Eddie said, rubbing at his temple. He had no clue how being able to communicate telepathically was going to help in this situation, but sure. Whatever. 

“Stefan, I’ve connected our minds. You can speak to me, and I’ll relay whatever you want to say to the rest of the party. Kris Kringle won’t be able to hear it!” Frank declared.

“Perfect. The kids reminded me of something, and it gave me an idea. Oh I mean uhhhhhh the memory of my former subjects came to me and it inspired a plan of action,” Steve said, stumbling over his words as he tried to stay in character. 

“We’re your subjects?” Dustin fake whispered to Steve.

“I’m not good at the improv part of this,” Steve hissed, pushing his chair back and standing, “Team huddle where Eddie can’t hear?”

“It’s a Party Gathering, Steve,” Will called out from where he and Mike were sitting. 

“Fine. Party Gathering then,” Steve amended with a roll of his eyes, waving a hand and bringing the rest of Hellfire into the corner. 

They leaned down low together, arms around shoulders to hide their faces and muffle any words that might have come out louder than intended. Try as he might to eavesdrop, Eddie couldn’t make anything out. He turned a shrewd eye to Lucas, then Dustin but they both just shrugged and gave him shit-eating grins. Even Max seemed unbreakable, miming a zipper over her lips and locking them shut, throwing the fake key over her shoulder. 

This was not going to be good. 

Before Eddie could think too much more, Hellfire returned. Kaiden looked put out, Janet and Frank were contemplative, and Rocky was staring resolutely forward with determination. As usual Jeff was impossible to read, but it was Gareth that worried him the most. 

Gareth looked positively gleeful, which did not seem good given the current situation. 

“Why do you look…happy?” Eddie muttered, narrowing his eyes. 

“Stefan has had a brilliant plan. It had to come from the gods of old,” Gareth replied in his dwarf drawl, “A true hero move,” 

With that incredibly cryptic answer, Eddie finally turned his eyes to their newest party member. Steve was positively gleaming, a shine of victory making his eyes sparkle. 

“It’s my turn, right?” Steve asked, biting at his lip and doing absolutely nothing to hide how excited he was. Eddie cautiously nodded and Steve clapped his hands.

“Okay, I roll to lock myself and Santa in the factory with the magic padlock I found during the Eggnog Trials,” Steve stated. Mike and Will exchanged a high five, and Dustin happily smacked his hand against Steve’s arm. He waved the kid off, waiting expectantly for Eddie’s answer. 

“Use two d8. You’ll need at least a ten,” Eddie said, thinking on the fly. He could not come up with a single reason that Steve would want to stay stuck in the factory, but maybe it was something about sneaking through one of the broken windows or something. 

When Eddie saw the seven and six on the table, he took a deep breath, making a note in his book. The door was now locked, and the padlock was charmed to never be opened again once it was shut. Nothing would open those doors, not even a nat 20. 

“You manage to evade Kris’s grasp, gaining a minor lead in the chase. It’s just enough time to make it across the factory and slam the door shut, locking it tightly.” Eddie narrated, getting back into the swing of things, “Hohoho! All you’ve done is seal your own doom!” 

“Not exactly, Kris,” Steve, Stefan, shot back, looking like the cat that had caught the canary. 

“Jun Iper what’s your move?” Eddie said, turning to Kaiden. 

“I cast a defensive shield on me and Boz,” Kaiden promptly responded, already picking up his d20. He didn’t need a high number to succeed, Kaiden’s defensive magic was almost at maximum level, so despite only getting a nine, it was successful. 

“You both have a medium amount of extra protection. Boz?” 

“I hand Goren the Great my heavy armor,” Jeff replied, clapping Gareth on the shoulder. 

Gareth put the armor on, and that’s how the entire round went. One by one each of them cast defensive move after defensive move until it was Steve’s turn once more. With each move, Eddie’s worry only increased. 

“The rest of the party is as protected as possible for Sir Stefan’s next move. Kris is right on your heels, hungry for the flesh of those on his naughty list, starting with a certain exiled royal,” Eddie said, giving Steve a look. Steve innocently whistled, not keeping eye contact. 

Well. Two could play at this game. Time to raise the stakes a little. Eddie carefully moved his notes to the side before jumping up onto the table, startling only Steve and the kids. The rest were used to Eddie’s dramatics.

“Well well well. Looks like you’re serving yourself up as a present just for me,” Edddie said in a menacing voice, crouching down and getting in Steve’s space, “That’s nice, but not enough to save your life!” 

Steve kept eye contact, staring Eddie down. He still had that twinkle in his eye, and Eddie knew he was done before Steve even spoke.  

“I attempt to throw my dynamite candy canes into the generator and blow up the whole factory,” 

“What?” Eddie said, rearing back and nearly losing his balance. He wobbled at the edge of the table, his arms windmilling as he fell. But, just before the point of no return, a hand shot out, clasping tight around Eddie’s wrist and pulling him back upright. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, concern coloring his tone as he slowly let go of Eddie. 

“Fine,” Eddie replied breathlessly, hoping Steve just assumed it was from almost falling and not because Steve had touched him. He shook his head, climbing down off the table and sitting on his throne. 

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked, breaking character, “You’re the one saying you want to blow everything up. You’re going to die if you do that. You know that, right?” 

“Yeah, but the rest of the party should be safe, right? And Kris will die too, so the snowmen will be destroyed,” Steve said as if it was simple, laying it all out like it made sense. 

The worst part was, it did make sense. It was brilliant. Everyone else would be perfectly fine, losing one single party member was actually a great way to end a one shot, and they would have all of the loot because the stockings were fireproof. 

But Steve dying meant that he wasn’t going to cross that first barrier. He needed to live for this to count towards the JRP. It all clicked into place now. That was the reason Gareth was so willing to follow along with Steve’s plan. 

Damn them! Damn Steve for going for it! 

“There is zero chance of your survival. Are you sure you wish to proceed?” Eddie said, trying again to stress just how much Steve was going to die, “There is no avoiding being killed if you choose this,”

“Don’t worry,” Steve said, lowering his voice and ducking closer so only the two of them could hear, “I already forgave you for earlier,” 

Steve thought Eddie was worried about what he had said earlier. It was so sweet. It was so misguided. 

Eddie was so gone for this beautiful brave boy. 

“Roll the d20. You’ll need a 17 or higher for this batshit, absolutely insane, courageous as fuck move to succeed,” Eddie said, resigned to the inevitable, “As you hold up your red and white crooks of fury, Kringle’s face drops from glorious mayhem to complete terror. His sword clatters to the ground as he rushes towards you, trying to stop your frankly crazy plan from succeeding. The entire world seems to hold its breath as you toss the candy canes towards the main generator. They spin in the air. Will they land where you want? ”

And, sure enough, Steve managed to get an 18. It was the highest roll he had gotten the entire game. 

“Party wins,” Eddie managed to say before the room erupted into cheers. Everyone jumped to their feet, crashing into each other with heavy back slaps and high fives. The kids clustered around Steve, all exclaiming about how ‘cool’ and ‘badass’ he was, and Steve ruffled Dustin’s hair, turning back to give Eddie a brilliant look of joy. 

“Happy Christmas to all!” Rocky declared, throwing his character sheets in the air

“Except Stefan,” Janet pointed out, holding up her first and shaking her head, “Gone but never forgotten,”

“You know I’m right here, right?” Steve pointed out as he started to gather his things, looking at his watch, “Shit. Guys, get your stuff. We’re keeping someone waiting.”

The kids scrambled to get their things, packing up lightning fast, still happily babbling about the game. Steve threw one backpack strap over his shoulder, turning to Eddie and ducking his head. 

“Not too bad for my first time?” He asked, seeming suddenly shy. Eddie grinned, unable to stop himself

“Do you guys hear something?” Eddie teased, cupping his ear, “I think someone is reaching out to me from the great beyond,”

Jeff and Frank both cackled, and Steve rolled his eyes, shoving his shoulder into Eddie’s. A bloom of fire started from their point of contact, traveling all down his arm and into even the tips of his fingers. 

“You did great, Sweetheart,” Eddie said, trying to still sound joking, but knowing it came out far too genuine, “Never could have expected that,”

“Blame the kids. They’re the ones that told me that the party would still win even if one person died,” Steve replied with a shrug. The kids were clustered around the doorway, blocking the exit for the rest of Hellfire and shouting at Steve to hurry up. All of a sudden they were in a rush to get going. 

Steve waved, stepping back as if he was about to leave. Eddie gathered his wits and took the leap, remembering what Kaiden had told him before the meeting. 

“Hey,” Eddie called, grabbing both Steve’s attention and his wrist. He quickly let go when Steve stiffened up, putting space between them. He wasn’t sure if he had just moved too quickly, or if Stve didn’t want Eddie to touch him, but he still wanted to respect boundaries. 

“I still wanna make it up to you for before. Since I ended up having to kill your self-sacrificng ass, what if you came to my show on Tuesday?” Eddie asked, twirling a curl around his finger and chewing on the end. God, he was acting like a lovesick little kid. This was so pathetic. 

“Your show?” Steve asked with a quirk of his head. The kids, done with being ‘patient’, came over and began to tug on his hands, trying to push Steve out the door. 

“Guys, quit it,” Steve said sharply, turning his attention back to Eddie, “Is this a drama thing?” 

“Oh, um, no,” Eddie said, hating how much he loved that Steve remembered he was in the drama club, “It’s a show for our band? Corroded Coffin? We do metal covers and some originals and stuff at the Hideout,” 

There was a brief pause where Eddie’s entire life felt like it was ending. This was the stupidest thing he had ever thought of. Steve Harrington? Metal? The only way those two fit in a sentence together was if you put the words ‘doesn’t like’ in between them. 

There was no way Steve would want to come, and now Eddie was going to have to admit defeat on not just one, but two hurdles for this stupid experiment he had let the club start. 

“I’d love to,” Steve said in a rush, nearly stumbling as his brats continued to push him towards the door. “Guys. We will leave in a minute, Jesus. Should I meet you there?”

“Come to my trailer and you can drive with us! Tuesday at 8 don’t be late,” Eddie offered, mentally screaming at himself. Steve lived in Loch Nora, he probably didn’t even know where the trailer park was. 

But Steve was nodding along, like there wasn’t anything different about Eddie telling him to come to a trailer instead of an actual house. 

“I’ll look for the one that has your van in front of it,” Steve called over his shoulder, finally letting the kids tug him away,  “Can’t wait! Bye!” 

And then he was gone, leaving Eddie alone with his terrible treacherous heart. 

God. What was he doing? 

Tag List: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name @minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

#Steve joins hellfire au #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #steddie #steddie au #steddie ficlet #st #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things au #post stancy breakup #post s2 #Steve and eddie #st au #stranger things 2 au #ptsd Steve harrington #Steve Harrington has ptsd #steve harrington #eddie munson #Steve and the party #max mayfield #babysitter Steve harrington #mom Steve harrington #Lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #Mike wheeler #will byers #Gareth stranger things #Jeff Stranger things #hellfire club

[starstruckunknown-princess]

A Very Star Wars Christmas Morning

Pairings: Obi Wan Kenobi x Reader, Anakin Skywalker x Reader, Padme Amidala x Reader, Din Djarin/Mando x Reader, Cobb Vanth x Reader, Poe Dameron x Reader

Warnings: Implied smut, lots of kissing, marriage proposal, bisexual relationship, same sex relationship, Grogu being an adorable menace

Word Count: 1498

Summary: Headcanons about how my various Star Wars Universe crushes would act on Christmas Morning! This is set in a Modern Earth-based society to make it easier on myself :)

A/N: Happiest and Gentlest of Holidays to all of you! This is my penultimate Fluffcember post and I decided to switch it up and do a series of Headcanons instead of the normal flash piece. Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy!

Fluffcember Masterlist

Obi Wan Kenobi

Makes coffee and delivers it to you in bed, a peppermint stick dissolving in it cuz “It’s festive!”

As excited as he is for you to open your gift, he won’t rush you out of bed

But he will crawl into bed with you and stare at you while you sip your coffee

Like an adoring puppy

And he’s so damn cute that you relent and let him lead you by the hand into the living room where the tree is set up and the string lights are on and your stockings are full

You’d filled his stocking with bags of his favorite tea, a book you knew he’d been wanting to read, and other thoughtful small gifts

He filled your stocking with some of your favorite candies/treats, plus a small velvet box

A ring box, to be exact

Your brain short circuits. Sure, you’d talked about getting married but you’d thought it was further in the future. Time comes screeching to a halt and there is not a single coherent thought in your mind

By the time your brain starts back up, he’s kneeling in front of you, between your knees where you sit on the couch

“My love, will you do me the immense honor of—”

“Yes”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“Yes. Obi Wan, yes.”

His smile makes him practically incandescent with joy as he surges up and captures your lips with his in a searing kiss

He slips the ring on your finger when the two of you come up for air some time later

It’s a perfect fit.

Just like him.

Anakin Skywalker

You wake up before he does

I swear, that man sleeps like the dead or not at all, there is no in between

You make yourself coffee and sit on the couch, reading a book or turning on a Christmas movie to pass the time while you wait for him to rise

When he does wake up, he goes directly into the kitchen to make breakfast for the both of you

But not before stopping to kiss your forehead good morning

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart”

While he normally doesn’t cook, he loves cooking breakfast

Probably because it’s difficult to fuck up breakfast food

He’s two cups of coffee in when the two of you sit down at the table, working on a third as he freshens your cup

Since he grew up poor, the holiday wasn’t so much about gifts as it was spending quality time with his loved ones

His mom, Qui Gon, Obi Wan, you

He even offered to host dinner at your home

And then immediately asked Shmi to be in charge of cooking because she’s the only one who can make his holiday favorites exactly how he likes them

You think it’s cute, how much he loves Christmas

When it comes to gift-giving, he’s more about practical gifts than anything. Did you mention something of yours isn’t working as well as it should be? He’s fixed it (or replaced it after trying to fix it). He noticed your sock supply was dwindling, so he got you more.

He does this throughout the year, mind you, but at Christmas he at least makes an attempt at keeping an element of surprise

Breakfast is delicious

You offer to clean up while he starts cleaning the public areas of your home in anticipation of the house full of guests you’re expecting that night

Padme Amidala

You want to spend Christmas in a fancy-ass Hallmark Movie set?

Padme’s your girl

Her entire home is decorated to the nines, holly sprigs, fresh poinsettias, a twelve foot tree with sparkling lights and ornaments

Banisters dripping with garlands

And it constantly smells like spiced cider

Christmas morning you wake up and she’s already downstairs

She hands you a mimosa when you join her downstairs in your pajamas

She’s in her pajamas too, but hers are silk and yours are an old t-shirt and fleece pants

“You look wonderful,” she assures you as you two sit down to your catered breakfast

After breakfast, you two curl up on the couch together

Snuggling, watching movies for a while before you have to get ready for her annual Holiday Gala

Her gift to you is a piece of jewelry that perfectly compliments the gown you’d picked out for the event

Your gift to her is a framed photo of the two of you in a simple metal frame

She immediately puts it on her nightstand

“So I can see it first thing every day”

You kiss her deeply, not caring that you’ve now both got lipstick all over your faces

That’s what make up people are for, right?

Din Djarin

With how much he travels, he barely keeps track of the day of the week

Much less the actual date

He does notice the snow on the ground and the incessant holiday music in stores and on the radio, so he knows it’s coming up

And he loves you

And he knows how much you love Christmas

So he makes sure to remember to get you a gift

Something thoughtful and sentimental, not extravagant or flashy

Grogu helps him pick it out

Grogu also insists on wrapping it himself

On Christmas morning Din bashfully presents you with what looks like a ball of wrapping paper covered with layers of tape

Grogu smiles when you praise his wrapping job

Din can’t imagine loving you more than he already does

You’re so good with his kid

You’re so good with him

So when you manage to get through the layers of tape and paper to reveal the gift and your face lights up, eyes brightening when you look at him

He falls deeper for you

When he opens the gift you got for him

(Impeccably wrapped, by the way -- what are you, a professional?)

He nearly chokes on the sip of coffee he just took

It’s a mudhorn amulet

“I noticed you lost your other one and it seemed important to you.”

“I-it’s the symbol of my…of our clan.”

“You and Grogu?”

“And you, too. If you’d like,” he adds quietly

You brighten again

And you answer him with a kiss

Grogu makes obnoxious gagging sounds

Cobb Vanth

You’re still asleep when he gets off duty

So he slips into bed with you and pulls you close

He only intends on cuddling until you wake up

But then his eyes slip closed and he’s out like a light — it was a busy night

You wake up to his light snores, still wearing his sheriff’s uniform shirt

As much as you’d like to let him keep sleeping, you two have to get to Peli’s for Christmas brunch and Secret Santa

So you gently wake him up with kisses along his strong jaw and neck

“Mmmm, don’t start something you can’t finish, darlin’” he growls, eyes still closed

“I’d love that, but we’ve got to be at Peli’s in an hour and, no offense love, but you need a shower.”

He groans and turns over, grabbing you by the waist and taking you with him

You squeal in surprise

His eyes are still closed

You decide to let him rest for a bit longer

Peli won’t mind if you’re late

Poe Dameron

You’re visiting his dad for Christmas and wake up to the two of them singing along with the Michael Buble Christmas album in the kitchen while they bang around making breakfast

You sneak out of the guest room and sidle up to the kitchen

Poe notices you first, dark eyes landing on yours

“Morning babe!” He exclaims as he bounces over to you and kisses your cheek

Out of the corner of your eye you catch his dad watching the exchange, a wistful look on his face

The three of you eat breakfast in the living room, White Christmas playing on mute while you all open presents

Poe’s dad immediately cracks into the bottle of whiskey you bought for him

The three of you share it

Poe disappears mid-afternoon to get dinner going

His dad, half-drunk in his recliner, smiles at you

“I don’t think I’ve seen a man so in love since I met his mother. You make him really happy.” 

“He makes me really happy too.” 

“What are you two talking about?” Poe asks from the kitchen

“Nothing!” you and his dad both exclaim

You join him in the kitchen a few moments later, hugging him from behind while he stirs something on the stove

“Well hey there” he says, turning around and hugging you back “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you say, running a hand through his dark curls, “You just make me really happy.”

He responds by kissing you lightly, then turns off the burner and turns his attention to kissing you like he means it

Which he does

The two of you make out in the kitchen until you hear his dad get up from his recliner, then split apart like two teenagers getting caught

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x you #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan x you #obi wan x reader #padme x reader #padme amidala #padme x you #din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #cobb vanth x reader #cobb vanth x you #cobb vanth fanfic #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe x reader #poe x you #modern star wars fic #modern star wars characters #modern star wars #christmas morning fic #fanfiction headcanon #headcanon #star wars headcanons

[mariana-oconnor]

The Naval Treaty pt 3

Yes, we apparently have got to the point where I'm memeing myself.

Right, last time, after Percy, Watson's old 'pal' from school failed magnificently at understanding how to protect confidential data, he followed an old woman into the night and the stress gave him a brain fever. Meanwhile, I'm still certain that Joseph Harrison, who has not been implicated in any way, is involved because I am a well-balanced and entirely reasonable person.

Mr. Joseph Harrison drove us down to the station

See! He's trying to get rid of you! 🤣🤣😂

“It's a very cheery thing to come into London by any of these lines which run high, and allow you to look down upon the houses like this.”

Last time we had Holmes looking out a train window: Ugh, look how terrible the countryside is! I can't bear it.

The contrast is palpable.

“The board-schools.” “Light-houses, my boy! Beacons of the future! Capsules with hundreds of bright little seeds in each, out of which will spring the wise, better England of the future. I suppose that man Phelps does not drink?”

Board schools are not the same as boarding schools, the internet tells me, but the first state run schools with no religious affiliation. I was about to be cynical about Holmes' view of children and Victorian educational standards, but I can't. He's right, those schools were important and really did pave the way for a brighter future.

And then a bit of mental whiplash as he snaps back to the case at hand, because he's Holmes.

In answer to the question, I can't say whether Percy drinks alcohol, but he definitely has a caffeine addiction that he should work on. If not for that, he wouldn't be in this mess.

Also, it was unreasonable of his uncle to expect him to copy so much text in a foreign language in one night. But even so, Percy needs to work harder on curbing his need for coffee.

"Then came the smash, and she stayed on to nurse her lover, while brother Joseph, finding himself pretty snug, stayed on too."

Oh, so he's just hanging around leeching off people, huh? Exactly as I suspected! This is just the beginning. Clearly, he's been a wrong'un all along and I will be vindicated.

"But to-day must be a day of inquiries.” “My practice—” I began. “Oh, if you find your own cases more interesting than mine—” said Holmes, with some asperity.

First of all, Watson does have a job, Holmes. I get that you want to play with him, but he does have responsibilities. You really shouldn't be bitchy about that.

Second, if Watson actually cares enough about his patients to ditch you, that would be the first time ever.

“I was going to say that my practice could get along very well for a day or two, since it is the slackest time in the year.”

See. No problem at all. Why would Watson ever do his actual job when he could be running around with Holmes? What a preposterous idea!

"...there is Lord Holdhurst.” “Lord Holdhurst!” “Well, it is just conceivable that a statesman might find himself in a position where he was not sorry to have such a document accidentally destroyed.” “Not a statesman with the honorable record of Lord Holdhurst?”

Oh Watson, my sweet summer child. Out there believing in unicorns and fairies and honourable politicians.

I discounted him because honestly, a political plot involving the politician uncle and corruption seemed too spy thriller. Also, the time frame of everything being nine weeks ago, I think discounts a political motive because if there were spy games going on, it would be far too late to do anything about it. Of course, it might be the case. These stories have surprised me a few times so far.

“£10 reward. The number of the cab which dropped a fare at or about the door of the Foreign Office in Charles Street at quarter to ten in the evening of May 23d. Apply 221b, Baker Street.”

The Bank of England inflation calculator tells me that's equivalent to approximately £1000 today, which is a pretty impressive reward for a little bit of information. Honestly, I'd expect people to be climbing out of the woodwork to say they saw Queen Victoria herself driving the cab and dropping off Jack the Ripper.

"Why yes, Mr Holmes, I saw a man with a long white beard and carrying a large sack. No, it was right odd, y'see: he didn't go in through the door. He climbed up on' roof and went down the chimney, that he did."

"And then, of course, there is the bell—which is the most distinctive feature of the case. Why should the bell ring?"

This is what I'm most interested in. What is up with that bell?

He sank back into the state of intense and silent thought from which he had emerged; but it seemed to me, accustomed as I was to his every mood, that some new possibility had dawned suddenly upon him.

Tell me! Tell me! I need to know. The bell is plaguing me.

a small, foxy man with a sharp but by no means amiable expression.

So Lestrade is a ferret and Forbes is a fox. Must all police officers be described as animals? This appears to be a pattern.

“You are ready enough to use all the information that the police can lay at your disposal, and then you try to finish the case yourself and bring discredit on them.” “On the contrary,” said Holmes, “out of my last fifty-three cases my name has only appeared in four, and the police have had all the credit in forty-nine. I don't blame you for not knowing this, for you are young and inexperienced, but if you wish to get on in your new duties you will work with me and not against me.” “I'd be very glad of a hint or two,” said the detective, changing his manner.

Forbes changes his tune pretty quickly here, so he seems open minded enough. Although it does seem a bit like he doesn't understand the purpose of Holmes. Yes, he's supposed to take all the evidence the police give him and try to solve the case. That's kind of how being a detective works. I get the emphasis here is on 'yourself', but still.

I like this exchange, because we've already seen in the stories that Holmes really doesn't care about the notoriety or the accolades - though he's more than willing to display gifts he's given in his own home - it's entirely the case and helping the people involved that he cares about.

Not sure he really needed to say that 'you are young and inexperienced' bit, though. Seems a tad direct.

“We have set one of our women on to her. Mrs. Tangey drinks, and our woman has been with her twice when she was well on, but she could get nothing out of her.”

OK, I thought it sounded unlikely that there were female police officers in the late 1800s, and it seems like the first female police officer in London was in 1919. But it definitely appears from this that they have women working for them - unless one of them has set his wife on a suspect, which... fair. Fascinating either way.

Also, Mrs Tangey has an alcohol problem, that could be an angle.

“What explanation did she give of having answered the bell when Mr. Phelps rang for the coffee?” “She said that he husband was very tired and she wished to relieve him.”

Alright, so it either was her, or she's involved in some way. Which I think we already suspected, but this clarifies that no one impersonated her without her knowledge, at least.

“Did you point out to her that you and Mr. Phelps, who started at least twenty minutes after he, got home before her?” “She explains that by the difference between a 'bus and a hansom.”

That's fair. Not everyone can afford their own taxi. Check your privilege, Holmes.

Standing on the rug between us, with his slight, tall figure, his sharp features, thoughtful face, and curling hair prematurely tinged with gray, he seemed to represent that not too common type, a nobleman who is in truth noble.

I may have rolled my eyes at this bit. Watson sometimes needs to back off on his earnest belief in the glory of England and its political and social systems. He's so classist it's actually painful at some points. Even if he's saying the type is 'not too common' it just makes me wrinkle my nose.

I also don't like Lord Holdhurst, but that's mainly because I believe hereditary nobility is immoral and also because he is a tory politician. There was never any hope of me liking him. I don't think he murders puppies, but I bet he'd pass legislation saying that murdering puppies is okay in certain circumstances if his old chum wanted to start a puppy murdering business and was a generous donor.

"I fear that the incident must have a very prejudicial effect upon his career.”

Yeah, that I do agree with.

“But if the document is found?” “Ah, that, of course, would be different.”

This, I do not agree with. Not after nine weeks, anyway. If it had been a couple of hours and the document was found to have fallen down the gap between the desk and the wall then he could probably just be given extra training and not allowed to touch confidential documentation without supervision for a few years. But it's been nine weeks. That treaty is lost. Even if it's returned, he still lost it for nine weeks.

“Did you ever mention to any one that it was your intention to give any one the treaty to be copied?” “Never.” “You are certain of that?” “Absolutely.”

OK. That cuts off that line of thinking, as Watson's insistence on him looking 'noble' clearly means we're supposed to believe him. But we already knew it wasn't him.

Because it's Joseph Harrison.

“If the treaty had reached, let us say, the French or Russian Foreign Office, you would expect to hear of it?” “I should,” said Lord Holdhurst, with a wry face.

Like I say, any political motivations would have been thoroughly completed by now, before Holmes was even called upon, so that's not likely.

“Of course, it is a possible supposition that the thief has had a sudden illness—” “An attack of brain-fever, for example?”

Given he called Holmes in, I sincerely doubt Percy's involved. Again, if this weren't a Sherlock Holmes story, there's a slim possibility it could be that his brain fever cause amnesia meaning that he doesn't remember taking the treaty and causing the whole problem, but that doesn't seem like a likely plot here.

“But he has a struggle to keep up his position. He is far from rich and has many calls. You noticed, of course, that his boots had been re-soled?"

OK so now we give him a motive, when you've all just gone on about how he's a 'fine fellow'? Are Lord Holdsworth's money problems going to be relevant to the plot? Maybe. We've heard nothing of Percy having any cousins, so as it stands he might be his uncle's heir. Not sure how that would lead to the treaty being stolen, but we'll bear it in mind.

Ah, and then Watson is racist again. Native Americans this time. These stories are really trying to spread the racism around, aren't they. This whole section is strange though, because it's about how Watson can't read Holmes' face, when multiple times (in this very story) he's said how he knows Holmes so well that he can instantly tell from his face what Holmes is thinking.

“God bless you for saying that!” cried Miss Harrison. “If we keep our courage and our patience the truth must come out.”

She and Watson should get together and have optimist meetings.

Although, it's definitely your brother, Miss Harrison. I don't know how, but it is. It's got to be. We're running out of suspects. Mrs Tangey seems like she might be involved, but I doubt she's the mastermind behind events.

Maybe Joseph just bribed her into trying to discredit Percy, she saw the paper and thought 'well this looks important' and took it not really knowing what it was.

But that doesn't explain the bell. Unless it's because she was drunk and she stumbled and grabbed it. Or she didn't really want to be doing it, so she pulled it in a weird attempt to get caught. Or she let Harrison in and then saw him stealing something and pulled the bell, only to be threatened if she said anything.

“Yes, we have had an adventure during the night, and one which might have proved to be a serious one.” His expression grew very grave as he spoke, and a look of something akin to fear sprang up in his eyes. “Do you know,” said he, “that I begin to believe that I am the unconscious centre of some monstrous conspiracy, and that my life is aimed at as well as my honor?”

He's probably right to be worried - maybe not for his life, but I'm pretty sure this entirely thing is aimed at him, not the treaty. But at the same time, this does not sound like the thinking of a mentally healthy person.

"A man was crouching at the window."

No. No, you see it could be him. Of course you're going to want to make it seem like it was someone from outside forcing their way in. To keep the suspicion off the people who live in the house. It has to be him. Has to be.

Did he have a knife, or was it just something that looked like a knife... like...

uh...

The thing he used to unlock the window?

"As it was, I rang the bell and roused the house. It took me some little time, for the bell rings in the kitchen and the servants all sleep upstairs. I shouted, however, and that brought Joseph down, and he roused the others."

Oh oh... convenient, being the first person on the scene, huh? Was that because you weren't in bed asleep at all? Mr Joseph Harrison?

(If I am by some miracle right about this, it will be entirely undeserved as literally the only reason I decided it was him is because he seemed too happy and his sister is getting married)

"There's a place, however, on the wooden fence which skirts the road which shows signs, they tell me, as if some one had got over, and had snapped the top of the rail in doing so."

Okay... well... well... that doesn't really fit with my theory at all, but maybe it's a coincidence. People climb over fences all the time. Maybe it happened ages ago. I bet they don't check the fences every day. Totally not a sign I'm wrong.

“Oh, yes, I should like a little sunshine. Joseph will come, too.”

Why?

No, seriously. Why? Percy says Joseph will come, but not his fiancee? That's weird. Is it because Joseph is stronger if Percy needs to be carried back?

"I should have thought those larger windows of the drawing-room and dining-room would have had more attractions for him.” “They are more visible from the road,” suggested Mr. Joseph Harrison.

And right here we have the classic Columbo moment. I know Sherlock Holmes came first, no need to send me angry messages. But this is something that happens in Every. Single. Columbo. It's part of his method, it's kind of his whole method. He makes a comment about 'I wonder why the murderer didn't do x' to the person he (and the audience) knows is the murderer and the villain, in an attempt to cover their own tracks, immediately presents an explanation.

“Do you think that was done last night? It looks rather old, does it not?” “Well, possibly so.”

Aw shucks, is Holmes not falling for your clever ruse? What a pity!

“Miss Harrison,” said Holmes, speaking with the utmost intensity of manner, “you must stay where you are all day. Let nothing prevent you from staying where you are all day. It is of the utmost importance.” “Certainly, if you wish it, Mr. Holmes,” said the girl in astonishment.

Not the weirdest thing Holmes has ever asked a person to do - still remember Watson pretzeling himself behind the headboard that one time - but still kinda weird. I hope she has some sort of enrichment in her enclosure. Tell me she has a bookcase at least.

“Why do you sit moping there, Annie?” cried her brother. “Come out into the sunshine!”

Look! LOOK! He's trying to get her out of the room. He hid the treaty in the room and now he's trying to get it back but he can't! All aboard the Joseph Harrison train, next stop: Vindication.

Got to assume that even though Joseph wasn't present when Holmes was speaking to Anne, or when he was speaking to Percy, he will be aware that Percy is not in the house. But he'll only be able to break into the room by the window again, so I guess that is the plan. To catch him red-handed.

#Letters from Watson #The Naval Treaty #Sherlock Holmes #long post #It's beginning to look like I'm right #But that's absolutely nothing to do with my problem solving ability and everything to do with my natural paranoia and distrust #Also ACD has a type #We saw it in The Copper Beeches and in The Greek Interpreter #Men who laugh too much and smile too easily

[backhurtyy]

in honor of international @rejectscanon day, here is a snippet of the fic i've been writing for kaylynn but have not finished because it sprouted legs and ran away <3

“Hiromi,” Oka says casually, rolling to a stop in front of him, “will you please explain to me what the monstrous purple ball of flowers inside my house is, and why my mother has it?”

Hiromi just rolls his eyes. “Nine years and you still don’t know what a hydrangea is. You’re hopeless.”

“Come on, you know I’ve tried. It just doesn’t stick! I don’t have the brain for flowers and their meanings and what not.”

“You just don’t care,” Hiromi counters, though it lacks any sort of bite or resentment.

Still, Oka rushes to defend himself. “I do care! If it’s important to you, I care. I just can’t—” He catches sight of Hiromi laughing silently, and sighs in exasperation. “Oh, whatever. Anyways, you didn’t answer the second question, which is why does my mother have one now?”

“Because she got a promotion at work, obviously.” Oka blinks twice at him, and Hiromi sighs again. “Purple hydrangeas mean wealth and success and stuff. So it was a way to say congratulations.”

“Oh,” Oka smiles. “That was really kind, I’m sure she appreciates it. And also understands it, unlike me. I’ll be honest, I don’t know how you keep this all straight. I mean, I barely even remember flowers have any meaning at all. If I ever get someone a bouquet, I’ll probably end up offending them terribly by giving them… Tulips or something, I don’t know.”

“Just don’t give tulips to people you’re not in love with, and you’ll be fine. And I keep it all straight because I think it’s interesting. You don’t. You’d rather sit in your room until three a.m., making all sorts of new decks.”

Oka raises an eyebrow at the subtle jab. “Uh-huh. Need I remind you who made your deck?”

Hiromi wiggles his board— not his board for when he’s Shadow, but another one that Oka had actually stayed up until four in the morning making, thank you very much— in his direction. “No, because you never let me forget it.”

He grins and shrugs. “Hey, that’s my sacred duty as your best friend— make sure you never forget all the nice things I’ve done for you. Now come on, we’re going to be late for school.”

“And whose fault is that?” Hiromi shoots back, though he puts his board down on the ground and pushes off, heading down the hill without Oka, the little shit. Oka hears him mumbling under his breath as he goes, “Freaking out about hydrangeas of all things, come on.”

#hehe #for you beloved mwah #kaylynn tag #shadoka #nellie.wip

[sky-squido]

Linking Adventure!!!

OKAY SO I FINALLY CAVED

i’ve been daydreaming about link redesigns for years but always figured it was too big a project or nobody would want Yet Another Link Redesign but i actually love every link redesign i’ve seen and there have been more and more lately (props you guys they’re all awesome) so here are mine! i have no intentions to turn this into a full AU even if i do have the plot for it kicking around my brain, i just wanted to share my fun character ideas :3 obligatory disclaimer that this is not LinkedUniverse (or linkedmaze, or linkverse, or bonus links, or—) so don’t tag it as such!

it’s called “Linking Adventure” because *cough* maybe it was an adventure but also because the Point of the adventure is to link the three timelines together before the universe disintegrates. fun! this selection of links, then, is all the ones who get recruited for the quest.

here’s how that went down btw:

Hylia/Zelda (“Vega” in this AU): UGGGGH SkSw Link (“Altair” in this AU): what’s wrong? Vega: I JUST COMMUNED WITH THE GOLDEN GODDESSES Altair: oh no Vega: THEY LET THIS NINE YEAR OLD BREAK THE FABRIC OF REALITY. TWICE Altair: oh no Vega: AND NOW THEY’RE TRYING TO FIX IT Altair: yay? Vega: BY SMASHING ALL THE REALITIES TOGETHER Altair: oh dear. where is this? Vega: in like a buncha millennia Altair: oH. so wait where will you be you at the time? Vega: I doN’t KnOW! Altair: can i help? Vega: yes please Altair: cool. how do i do that. Vega: I’m gonna yell at Nayru and get her to yeet you into the future. there’s three heroes, one in each timeline, whose help you’re gonna need Altair: nice Vega: Oh also go grab the Hero of Legend, too. He’s pals with her oracle and will definitely come in handy Altair: sick Vega: cool okay so to stabilize the Convergence you’re going to need to find the full Triforce in each era and merge them together—that should hold most of reality together pretty solidly. you’ll need each timeline’s master sword to do that, though, since it’s the only artifact strong enough to withstand that kind of power. Also you can’t bring your own Master Sword because that might break reality. i’m sorry. is that too much? you’ve done so much already, you don’t have to— Altair: this isn’t like last time, though. i’ve got more experience, there’s no demon king to fight, and you’ll be safe. that’s all that matters. Vega: thank you. so much. Altair: just don’t erect any statues in my honor while i’m gone Vega: no promises!

and then he went and found everyone and they had a little adventure. here’s the gang! (transcriptions and clarifications of the handwritten text under the cut)

And here’s just some concept sketches about how they’d all fit together as a team

transcription: Favored battle positions (this is really loose) Wind— ranged support Altair— taking out main enemy’s weak point Fire— high damage output Traveler— distract enemy Night— misc.

Anyway! don’t expect more content of this! i just don’t have the patience for comics and i wouldn’t want to tell the story any other way. 

cool! transcriptions below the cut:

FIRE: “The Big Guns” [LoZ 1 & 2] 19 yo (she/her) Nicknamed herself for her favorite spell - uses she/her, don’t question it - has Down Syndrome & ASD - is mostly nonverbal - can speak with a stutter but prefers to sign - if she gets emotional while signing, her hands Will catch fire - abandoned as a baby and raised by fairies - insane magical potential - near-constantly casting life to counteract various health complications - her favorite spell is fire. - she did not hide from Ganon’s cult - fiercely protective & loyal - is very no-nonsense; to the point - when she casts fire, the ends of her scarf flare out like fairy wings - her hands always glow faintly so she can be “heard” in the dark - solves problems with fire - prefers to speak with actions over voice or sign

TRAVELER: [aLttP, OoA, OoS, LA, ALBW] 17 yo (he/him) Nicknamed himself for his passion in life - LOVES adventuring & traveling - hates fighting—prefers to avoid/distract enemies - incredibly fast & agile—attacks by surprise - the lightning strike just before Koholint made him almost completely deaf - and gave him arrhythmia (tachycardia) - gets chest pains/short of breath sometimes - when he’s backed into a corner, he’ll go feral with his magic rods - kid’s a walking encyclopedia - super kindhearted—cannot refuse someone who needs help - incredibly curious & nosy (if someone needs help, he will find out about it) - prefers to sign, but can still talk, since he could hear for most his life, but sometimes he’s hard to understand b/c he’s been deaf for a year. - his eyes are really, REALLY vibrant blue ever since he used the Triforce the second time—they glow faintly in the dark - somehow more level-headed when in danger than when he’s safe - he’s like a freaking cockroach he WILL NOT die - damage reduction items have no effect on pain <3 - pretends Koholint never happened (claims to have only been on 4 adventures) - ✨avoidance coping✨ (Dialogue Sample): “hey, is this place upsetting you? If it helps, I’ve catalogued 4 separate exit routes and have strategies set up for handling all the monsters we’re likely to encounter here!” (Outfit Description): he has pegasus boots, the magic cape from aLttP (which turns him invisible and invincible), the Protection Ring from OoA/OoS (which makes him take 1 heart of damage from every attack), the red tunic from ALBW (which reduces damage taken by 75%), and the Heart Ring L-2 from OoA/OoS (which heals him over time)

WIND [WW+PH] 14 yo (he/him) Nicknamed himself for his position as Wind Waker and his love for the ocean’s breezes - ADHD (hyperactive) and misophonia - he will flip out if a noise bothers him too much - somehow, he always seems upbeat—master of mind over matter - never loses sight of the big picture - can be curled up in a ball, crying, hands over his ears, and still say with full certainty that he loves life - “I’m not okay, but I will be, and that’s enough for me.” - If he loses hope, the world is literally ending - Really Freaking Good with a bow and arrow - his ice, fire, and light arrows are so OP - uses one of Tetra’s cutlasses ever since he jammed the Master Sword into Ganondorf’s skull - he’s had a no-killing-humanoids policy since then, too (clarification: he’ll only kill things that burst into purple smoke upon death) - even though Phantom Hourglass took 10 irl minutes, he counts those months towards his age - has no items from PH except for the empty hourglass - the Pirate’s Charm around his neck glows faintly in the dark. members of the Royal Family can speak through it—everyone else can only play the messages he’s recorded on it - oh yeah, he can record and play audio messages on it (Dialogue Sample): “how dare you! that’s the same as just giving up!“ (Outfit Description): friendship bracelet Aryll made (a set of 4 for her, Tetra, Wind, and Grandma); bracelet of grass he learned how to weave in the Ocean King’s world; custom made coat a 13th b-day present from Tetra (he’ll grow into it); socks were a gift from Aryll

ALTAIR [SkSw] 22 yo (he/him) Nicknamed himself for his Loftwing, who he named after the brightest start in Aquila, the eagle constellation - ADHD (inattentive) - has prophetic dreams - Team mom energy - usually tries to avoid combat—focus on support/defense (clarification: unless he deems it appropriate to draw his sword, in which case, Oh No) - may or may not be the King of Hyrule - he is trying to be very diplomatic—likes to talk things out - loves talking about everyone’s feelings but his own - he’s the kind of person you grow really close to really fast and tell everything to and then realize several months in that you know NOTHING about him - kind of under a lot of pressure—acts like it doesn’t affect him so people still feel comfortable coming to him for help - he’s nominally in charge cuz Hylia sent him to grab the others but he honestly doesn’t care—it’s all Laissez-faire - unless you make him angry - it’s very hard to make him angry - but when he is, he’s like a completely different person—grows completely silent and becomes brutally efficient - his left eye’s been purple ever since Demise—don’t worry, it’s totally fine and normal for it to be doing that.

NIGHT [TP] 23 yo (she/her) Nicknamed herself night because night is what comes after the twilight and she felt really lost after the events of TP - just kind of a girl dw about it - what happened to her leg? well she HAD it when she fought Ganondorf... idk where it went~ she’s got her knee but nothing below that - she got that canon repair guy to make her a new leg - it has a gun in it. it shoots explosive rounds & has 10 shots - she’s ambidextrous and decided to take full advantage of that by dual wielding blades - ever since she lost her leg, she had this awesome fighting style where she switches frequently between hylian and wolf, darting around the battlefield on 3 legs before shifting into a hylian in midair, lashing out with both blades, and landing as a wolf. she’s very good at it but after a long battle she’ll be sick for a little while from the magic. - takes on the leader role determinedly. fiercely protective - she cares so, so deeply and honestly all the time. it hurts so much but she can’t help it and doesn’t want to. she’ll keep caring even if it kills her. - has, on some level, lost hope that she’ll ever be happy. Ordon feels intensely wrong, somehow, and she doesn’t know where else to go. everywhere she goes, she feels trapped. - Midna said “see you later” and then destroyed the portal. Night doesn’t take people at their word. She won’t be vocal about it, but she won’t believe them, either. - harbors distrust towards Altair but still cares so deeply for him. fully expecting to get backstabbed and that the pain of it will kill her (clarification: this killing is metaphorical)

more art of them here!

#squido's op #loz #linking adventure #this is not gonna be a thing nope nope nope #squido writes #squido draws #legend of zelda

[jabbage]

#Letters from Watson #lettersfromwatson

[prettylightsbigcity]

Yours, Always

TW: MCD, cancer, suicide

Losing someone you love feels impossible. In the days after his death, Baz writes a love letter to Simon.

I recently lost someone close to me, and I wrote this pretty soon after they passed. I debated whether or not this was something that I wanted or needed to share, but after sitting with it for some time, I decided to throw it out into the universe. Please read the tags and trigger warnings, and don't read this if you're not in a place to think about the things mentioned. I'm listing some resources below; take care of yourself, friends. Read below, or here on ao3.

***

Dear Simon, 

I think I’m disappearing right in front of my own eyes. Most days I get up, go through the motions, speak to people without hearing them, eat without tasting; I am moving through the world like a ghost. I’m a watery impression of myself. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so numb. Do you know what kept me alive in the darkest seasons of my life, Snow? When I first realized what I was, that I would never be the boy my mother had loved again? When the days all bled together into one endless smear of suffering trapped inside a coffin? Do you know what kept me alive? It was you. The knowledge that you existed, somewhere in the world, before you ever spoke to me kindly, before I even dared to hope that you could care for me the way I care for you. Just knowing that you were out there, Simon Snow, gave me a reason to carry on living. Loving you has been at the core of me since before I even understood what I was feeling. Being loved by you has been the greatest honor of my life. We have fought for each other over and over again, and we’ve always won. 

But what was the point of it all? The agony and struggle we both endured— not to mention what we put everyone else through— to get here? Everything you did for our world, the trauma and torment and heartache inflicted on you, not just by The Mage (curse his wretched soul), but all of magickal society with the expectations they placed on your shoulders when you were only a child. The Greatest Mage. The Power of Powers. The Chosen One. I know you thought it was all a load of rubbish, but I believed it. I still do. I believe in you, Simon. And after all that, there was nothing any of us could do. I sat in Dr. Wellbelove's office right next to you while he said horrifying things that didn’t make any sense, words like “glioblastoma” and “metastatic” and “terminal” and— and “cancer.” It had likely started somewhere else, he said, spreading to your spine and then finally your brain, which was what brought us in to see him. The headaches. None of us could do a fucking thing; I just sat there in that sterile fucking office, holding your hand, and all the magic in the world couldn’t change anything. Of course, we tried. We had to. Penelope and I coated you with every spell under the sun and a few that hadn’t even existed previously. Nothing changed. You were impenetrable to magic right to the end. It’s just like you to be an absolutely stubborn arse.

It will be your birthday next week, Simon, or at least the day we’ve been calling your birthday for the past nine years. Ten years of loving you. Ten years of choosing us, through every up and down. It wasn’t enough. No amount of time being loved by you could ever be enough for me. I should have savored every moment, but I was a fool. I expected ten more birthdays, and ten after that, until we grew old together, just like we used to talk about. We made so many plans and shared so many dreams. We talked about having kids of our own someday; round-faced, freckled children who looked like you, or maybe children from care who needed a family, just like you did. I know it terrified you, but you would have been the best father, Simon. It frightened me too, but I would have been able to do it with you by my side, I know I would. I think about that imaginary future family often these days, mourning something we never got to have, and now we never will. 

I remember last year, when you turned thirty, you joked that it was too late for you to make anything of yourself now. We stayed up late and drank an entire bottle of wine, plotting to make our grand return to America for your fortieth birthday. 

“New York,” you said, “and New Orleans, and Los Angeles– we missed all the good stuff last time.”

“We were a little preoccupied with the overwhelming amount of bad stuff last time, Snow,” I told you.

“Think we should go back to Las Vegas and see if we like it any better now?” you asked, grinning like a fool. 

“No,” I said, “and I can’t believe you would ever suggest that.”

“It’s the vampire capital of the world, babe,” you said, like I was the one being an idiot.

“Yes, and I prefer to be the only vampire allowed anywhere near you,” I countered, tackling you and pressing you back into our mattress.

You told me I should go on that trip without you, one of those interminable nights when I sat next to your hospital bed with my head resting on your lap. You were running your fingers through my hair, so gently. You barely had the strength to lift your hand. You couldn’t see me by then; the swelling pressing against your optic nerve had taken your vision a week earlier. They tried radiation to reduce it, to try and restore your sight. It hadn’t worked. I stayed even closer to you after that, holding you as much as I could so you would always know where I was, that I was there, that you weren’t alone. You asked me for things, in those quiet, desperate nights. We both knew that time was running out, so you asked me for promises, and I could never deny you. You made me promise to take care of everyone– Penelope and Shepard and their children, my siblings, your Uncle Jaime. I promised to visit Ebb’s grave for you, and Lady Ruth’s. You knew by then that you’d never be able to visit them yourself again. You asked me to promise you that I would go on, that I’d try to be happy, even try to date. As if I would ever feel joy again after you were gone; as if I could ever love anyone else after the way I have loved you. The way I still love you. You are the love of my life, and if a creature like me is capable of having a soul, you’re the love of every life my soul ever has and ever will experience. I never intended to break my word to you, Simon, but the Baz who made those promises still had you. He’s gone now; he died with you. 

I’m sorry, Simon. I know this isn’t what you wanted, but I’ve never been brave like you. I’m not strong enough to stay here without you. Our families– the ones we were born with and the ones we chose– will survive this, I know they will. They have each other, they won’t be alone. Not like I am, now. You’ve forgiven me so many terrible things in my life, love. I hate to ask you to forgive one more, but I have to. Please, forgive me, Simon. I love you. I’ll see you soon. 

Yours, always.

Baz

#my fic #snowbaz #mcd #tw: cancer #tw: depression #tw: death

[anosrepasi]

So I just finished my fourth read-through of Lingua Franca (and FINALLY twigged onto the fact that I could search you up on tumblr, oops), and saw one of your recent posts tagging The Old Guard. I want to know more, as long as you have the time and motivation for it, of course! I'm so invested in that universe, and so far it's only one fic. Please, if you have any tibits to share, this reader is STARVING for more info on this AU? XD

Thank you so much with your patience in my replying to this ask, @atsuyuri-sama I have been thinking about this ask since you sent it and getting super hyped when i finally had a week where i had enough brain energy to give it the answer you deserve.

First off: !!!! FOUR read-throughs??!? It's mind boggling to think someone enjoyed Lingua Franca so much to reread it three times. You honor me.

On to the question: Since you mentioned really loving the AU and the fact that it's only one fic right now, I think it'd be fun to share what I'm envisioning for the entire series, structure wise.

Lingua Franca (the series) will have 4 parts, one of which is obviously Lingua Franca (the fic) The rest are as follows:

Prima Lingua - A prequel/companion story to Lingua Franca from the perspective of Nicolo. The second chapter of which will have one of my biggest writing experiments to date and I'm very very excited to see how it lands with people.

Nolexi - What happens after Lingua Franca? A very awkward dinner, first off. The title/theme of the work comes from Rudy Francisco's I'll Fly Away which. I highly recommend, especially to any poetry lovers out there OR people who love linguistics.

Code Switch - This is my anthology of pieces set into the Lingua Franca universe that don't fit in well with the main fics but I still feel are important supplementary snapshots into the characters and the events. Here are some of my favorite snapshots I'm going to be exploring:

Andrew is just shy of nine years the first time he accompanies his father on a sea voyage. As with most boys his age, he is brave and curious in equal measure, and can't help but flounce his father's strict orders to stay away from the strange metal box speaking in zeneize. Three decades later, Andrew is cornered in an alleyway on his walk home from the docks. These experiences are related.

Quynh has learned after several lifetimes that while she'll do it for her heart, Andromache has no love and no patience for the task of braiding hair. Luckily, Quynh has an alternative for when she wants to do something complicated with her hair. If it happens to interrupt his reading, that's his problem. (She knows Booker secretly loves helping her with her hair anyway.)

The first thing Copley does, once he's triple checked he's lost all traces of Merrick surveillance, is break into Booker's apartment.

I've got parts and pieces of all three of these fics written but I'm not sure when exactly I'll actually get them published or if I'll wait until i have them all completely written before posting but I hope whenever the time is right and I get the rest of the story shared with you all, it brings you the same satisfaction as Lingua Franca did :)

(Also I adore talking about this series so if you have any additional questions/thoughts and want to talk about the series, my DMs and ask box are always open)

#ano asks #ano replies #series: lingua franca #fic: lingua franca #the old guard #my writing #again want to thank you for your patience #and i hope the behind the scenes look at the future content helps make up for the wait

[cosmik-homo]

favorite fictional characters? no need to order them, just ramble about your blorbos!

Alfred is always my MVP but also i was talking to a dude yesterday about like, Star Wars and Star Trek and I mentioned stargate and he was like the what and I just had the most powerful wave of 'they don't even have a teal'c.' Shrek meme like wow imagine not having a teal'c. Others on this list are Spock and Data in a very different way than Spock - spock is like a spiritual icon to me. Data was my boyfriend, emotionally, for a tough period of highschool. And is just. An Actual Friend To Me. Sherlock Holmes..... especially Brett's is brilliant but like. There's a reason I can recognie which story is being adapted and exactly how it goes within three minutes of adapted material most of the time, I read those stories so, many, times as a kid.

Tasslehoff burrfoot always has a place of honor no matter how much I grow up beyond DL because he's literally a funny little guy and nine year old me love him beyond life.

I would say I can't choose a star wars character but truly it's between Han and Threepio they're Just Like Me For real

This helped thank you :) wait I'm also adding Haplo he's been drifting in my brain a lot this week he's such a beloved guy to me. Like If Aragorn was lightly evil and a dog owner (masc) . And so sad and repressed. And loved his fucking DOG

[alightinthedarkness1]

Chapter Eleven

Durdyn had begun reading in the time it would take for a Duergar to become proficient in the art of theft, which was surprising, as it was an innate ability that the race of dark dwarves possessed, so in that instance, it seemed as if Arachne's younger brother had been born reading, as most Duergar were born purloining other's things. It was quite the disturbing sight, although she couldn't help but feel it was her who caused this ability to come to the surface of the sickly green acid pits lying in and about the Underdark itself.

As such, the typical fear of dreaming, the fear of the recreation of both Bemril and Kethan's passings, had been diminished with dreams of Durdyn, the lovely little Coborial. These dreams were quite nice, as she would cherish them until she was forced to enter the Reverie when the ability came to her, as she was at the age, twenty five, where some would begin their journey into becoming a full-fledged member of the drow community, if the other social (and otherwise informal) restrictions were met. The Reverie would be Arachne's last step before her ascension to glory, which many of her anticipated peers would not be able to meet.

Likewise, her sister had been unable to complete such a challenge, as slaying a monster was one of the more dangerous of these requirements, let alone the Nine Tests of honor she would go through during her priesthood. There had been a rumor that Matron Aunerae was awaiting her ninth, the most lethal challenge of them all. To fight Lolth, and win. Arachne feared for the day.

That night was when Arachne would present her reports to Matron Aunerae of Durdyn's success, and she was quite emphatic to do so, as she had taken an illegal look over Xarann's files, and the little boy had surpassed him in every subject but Underdark history, which he was still learning.

She came marching up to the meeting hall, a thin, soft black leather book cradled in her arms, pressed against her chest and long silky black and red robes, a headdress adorning her head with voluptuous adamantine. Her boots clicked against the stone floor at a rhythmic pace, a small tune forming in her head as the tapping continued, whilst each slave in the halls bowed their heads to her, fearing her untouched snake-headed whip, for all knew she had never used it, but had somehow killed one from across a table. In all of the earnest truth she could offer, Arachne herself was unsure what had caused the phenomena, but she was proud that she saved an indentured servant's life. For this reason, some slaves saw her as a hero, while others still hated her, as she hated herself.

Knocking on the small wooden door, Xarann opened the door for her, allowing Arachne to make eye contact with her mother for the first time in five years, her chin held up high and proud, her hair a tad bit longer, and her confidence increased tenfold. For one onlooker unsure of the power dynamics between the two, it would seem as if she, herself, had the upper hand in this confrontation. When, in truth, this report would decide if Durdyn would live or not.

Matron Aunerae sat on an identical throne to the one in the main chamber of the House, Xarann standing at her side as K'yornl typically did when Bemril had been away on expeditions, which was frequent, when he had been Elderboy. That was the extent of Arachne's recollection with the room, as the last time she had been in the room was five years ago during what had begun to be known as the Time of Troubles, when all of the Gods turned mortal.

"Speak, daughter," the Matron demanded, leaning her head against her right fist, which was supported by a velvet cushion on the armrests of the throne. "For I have little patience for all you must speak about your new brother. The one of which I assigned you five years ago since the horrid thing had no need to latch onto my breasts like a mindflayer would with its prey's brain." Her specification would have been needed for any other drow but herself, as she truly cared about what she was teaching, and especially who she was teaching. Her analogy, though, was quite morbid, as a mindflayer would use its tentacle like fingers to go through one's brain to eat it.

Arachne forced herself to chuckle, understanding the jeopardy if she did not. "You have quite the accurate analogy, Matron Aunerae!" She lied. Right through her teeth. "What I have found is that the male in question responds to orders with quite proficiency, most likely from his daily disciplines, and our lessons in the library. He would follow your orders without question in the heat of battle, Matron." She took a breath, attempting to not wash her mouth out with acid for describing her naïve brother in that sense, as he was only a child. "However, he does have an element of individual thinking, and, from my understanding and observations, he makes the proper choices quite quickly."

"And of his speaking clarity? We can't afford an incompetent Secondboy, no?"

Arachne cleared her throat, the gradually growing lump in her throat threatening her fortitude, which was required for this reaction. "He speaks quite well, and his vocabulary is immaculate. He speaks as you and I do, despite being just a boy." Seeing her mother gearing up to speak once more, no doubt to inquire about his strength evaluation, she opened her mouth again, to earn a nod of approval from the Matron. "The male has also passed physique checks and tests, as I hear that K'yornl has him working on his speed and skill with a sword. Such things are quite helpful, as he will leave the House for Slaekmia at the age of twenty, with fifteen years more of experience to better the title of the House."

Matron Aunerae nodded, an intimidating glint in her eyes as she did so, black lips rising into a small smirk before leaning back into her throne of metal. "So, he will be the perfect replacement for the martyr. Perhaps he will aspire to more, as it seems as if you have done quite well for yourself, Arachne." She intertwined her fingers together, the smirk still remaining on her face, a feverish chill making itself known as it crawled up her spine as Arachne's eyes stared into the carmine ones belonging to her mother.

Knowing the proper mannerisms for such a compliment, albeit quite strange for the rather forceful community, was to simply state that you knew, which was the only time that one would be allowed to say such a thing to a Matron Mother. So, Arachne merely stated: "I know, Matron Aunerae." before awaiting her dismissal.

"Lolth's blessings be upon you, daughter." Matron Aunerae stated wryly, almost as if she was withholding boredom, waving her off, "As with you male." This was a gesture towards Xarann as well, who bowed his head in respect before walking away at Arachne's side, his arms folded behind his back, further making him appear as if he was professional, as he was, more so in his black button up coat, a side cape protruding from the pad in his right shoulder.

The two walked out of the room with some speed, as Matron Aunerae's patience was not something she was well known for, if she had any at all. All of her most renowned massacres came from impatience, as she had demanded that a certain group of svirfneblin leave Abburth's streets, and yet had not waited the three days she had promised them before eradicating every single Deep Gnome in the group before the start of the second day. Such things had become normalized, as the Spider Queen was a chaotic Goddess, and therefore her followers were the same, if not shockingly similar.

In her own defense, however, it was early during her time as a Matron Mother, and, despite being the First Matron Mother of the city, the young drow elf had to prove herself in some way. It was the same during the time in which the House had lost favor one hundred years ago, which Arachne now knew the reason for, only to be ended by a mass murder of the Bugbears and Duergar of the city, where the population of all three races met with Matron Aunerae's wrath were only dwindling back due to the fear of the woman. The Coborial House was on everyone's tongues almost at all times.

As brother and sister walked, Xarann opened his mouth to speak, one of the first times Arachne had ever heard him do such a thing due to his rather reserved nature, dedicated to magic and study. In that way, the two siblings were the same. Although, for some strange reason he spoke in the language native to mindflayers and the like, as the two were the only ones in the House with the capability to speak a language such as deep speech, as it was quite the challenge to learn. It was something the both had done in their free time.

"I have come to hear that you have accomplished some unique things when song reaches you. Why do you think that is, sister?" He stated, looking at her with indifferent crimson eyes, as he looked at everyone in that sense. Although a feeling of pride shot through his irises like an arrow of fire being thrown from the home of its ballista, but only for a moment before they returned to their undisturbed state.

There was a moment of silence, where Arachne continued her walk with her brother, contemplating her next move, knowing that one wrong step would cause her end. She hadn't quite cared about the strange occurrence, as she had always found peace and rejuvenation in song, even the horrible sounds drow bards made that the society classified as "classic music." As many times in her life, curiosity did outweigh the other possible reasons to which she would say no, and it was almost foolish how she was planning her next move, and she recognized this, but for some reason she did not care, despite the threat of blackmail.

Arachne huffed in amusement, knowing quite well her brother had control, and planned to flip it around for her own comfort, "You speak as if you know, brother." she mocked, noting that they were beginning to make their way towards the library, a place both associated with safety. So, perhaps there was no malicious intent in what Xarann was trying to tell her, but perhaps a gesture, however discreet as it was, that he was on her side, whatever side she was on, as it was all clouded by a shroud of true darkness, the first she experienced in the sack Bemril had her in.

"Why, in fact, I do. But what will I get in return? 'Safety' isn't enough, mind you. I have taken care of myself centuries longer than you, Arachne." Xarann remarked, making it well known that, despite his aloof disposition, he was just as dangerous as any of her siblings. It now made more sense that Chadra had called him a, 'sly asshole.' The mage knew how to haggle.

She chuckled, a small smile ghosting over her features for but a moment, before she continued speaking in the language of deep speech. "Well, I can give you information. I know, as a wizard, you quite care about such things. Perhaps about..." Arachne tapped her chin, knowing very well, from Cazna's journals, that she and Xarann were relatively close, probably as close as she and Durdyn were. So, she believed she could use her knowledge. "Perhaps about our eldest sister's fate. That Houseless told me what happened to her." She resisted the urge to wince at not using Kethan's name, or even his title, she owed him that much.

The face that appeared for but a moment upon Xarann's features was one to cherish to most other drow, as it was as if he was stabbed by a spearhead, and was surprised by the occurrence. There Arachne knew she had ensured her safety, and instead had him in a trap, that she didn't quite care to have her brother captured in, but would have to if she could even fathom living to the age of one hundred. She had made one to many risks in her life, and would have to begin to use her way with words to ensure her breath. "Very well, then. Spin your tale, bard."

This was Arachne's time to connect ties, realizing that her disregard to what Kethan had called her in his crazed state, was truthfully an act of buffoonery on her part. The music that came to her, perhaps it was simply an act of the bardic ability that she was given, however strange it was, as there was no bardic blood in the family to muddle her own. So, perhaps Xarann was wrong?

Deep down, Arachne knew, this was not true.

"Matron Aunerae killed her after she showed tendencies of blasphemy, in the streets after she attempted to escape, with the use of her favorite demon, that Sibiriex she calls Diablo." The siblings shuddered at the mention of the flesh-bound creature, that was older than all of them, including their mother, and had killed Matron Nathrae II and her daughters three centuries ago, and had been with Matron Aunerae since then, her own attack dog held within her fingers. Some even said that she had prepared its own part of the Pocket Realm for the creature to keep it.

Xarann nodded, "I see. I suppose no one could have expected less, it is quite clear that she deserved it." He paused for a moment before they reached the door of the library itself, the wizard's voice whispering its last words in Arachne's ear as he moved to walk in, "And as for you, bard, I can ensure you will have many stories to tell."

#writeblr #write #writing fiction #writers on tumblr #creativewriters #dnd character #original story #original fiction #original character #aspiring novelist #chapter thirteen #drow #drow elf #dnd drow #dungeons and dragons drow #fiction #writersociety #elf #dnd elf #corellon #elf aesthetic #elves #dark elf #writer things #writerscorner #d&d #dnd #i hope you have a great day #i hope you like this

[aspiringfictionwriter]

A Light in the Darkness: Chapter Eleven

Trigger warnings: none that I am aware of

Durdyn had begun reading in the time it would take for a Duergar to become proficient in the art of theft, which was surprising, as it was an innate ability that the race of dark dwarves possessed, so in that instance, it seemed as if Arachne's younger brother had been born reading, as most Duergar were born purloining other's things. It was quite the disturbing sight, although she couldn't help but feel it was her who caused this ability to come to the surface of the sickly green acid pits lying in and about the Underdark itself.

As such, the typical fear of dreaming, the fear of the recreation of both Bemril and Kethan's passings, had been diminished with dreams of Durdyn, the lovely little Coborial. These dreams were quite nice, as she would cherish them until she was forced to enter the Reverie when the ability came to her, as she was at the age, twenty five, where some would begin their journey into becoming a full-fledged member of the drow community, if the other social (and otherwise informal) restrictions were met. The Reverie would be Arachne's last step before her ascension to glory, which many of her anticipated peers would not be able to meet.

Likewise, her sister had been unable to complete such a challenge, as slaying a monster was one of the more dangerous of these requirements, let alone the Nine Tests of honor she would go through during her priesthood. There had been a rumor that Matron Aunerae was awaiting her ninth, the most lethal challenge of them all. To fight Lolth, and win. Arachne feared for the day.

That night was when Arachne would present her reports to Matron Aunerae of Durdyn's success, and she was quite emphatic to do so, as she had taken an illegal look over Xarann's files, and the little boy had surpassed him in every subject but Underdark history, which he was still learning.

She came marching up to the meeting hall, a thin, soft black leather book cradled in her arms, pressed against her chest and long silky black and red robes, a headdress adorning her head with voluptuous adamantine. Her boots clicked against the stone floor at a rhythmic pace, a small tune forming in her head as the tapping continued, whilst each slave in the halls bowed their heads to her, fearing her untouched snake-headed whip, for all knew she had never used it, but had somehow killed one from across a table. In all of the earnest truth she could offer, Arachne herself was unsure what had caused the phenomena, but she was proud that she saved an indentured servant's life. For this reason, some slaves saw her as a hero, while others still hated her, as she hated herself.

Knocking on the small wooden door, Xarann opened the door for her, allowing Arachne to make eye contact with her mother for the first time in five years, her chin held up high and proud, her hair a tad bit longer, and her confidence increased tenfold. For one onlooker unsure of the power dynamics between the two, it would seem as if she, herself, had the upper hand in this confrontation. When, in truth, this report would decide if Durdyn would live or not.

Matron Aunerae sat on an identical throne to the one in the main chamber of the House, Xarann standing at her side as K'yornl typically did when Bemril had been away on expeditions, which was frequent, when he had been Elderboy. That was the extent of Arachne's recollection with the room, as the last time she had been in the room was five years ago during what had begun to be known as the Time of Troubles, when all of the Gods turned mortal.

"Speak, daughter," the Matron demanded, leaning her head against her right fist, which was supported by a velvet cushion on the armrests of the throne. "For I have little patience for all you must speak about your new brother. The one of which I assigned you five years ago since the horrid thing had no need to latch onto my breasts like a mindflayer would with its prey's brain." Her specification would have been needed for any other drow but herself, as she truly cared about what she was teaching, and especially who she was teaching. Her analogy, though, was quite morbid, as a mindflayer would use its tentacle like fingers to go through one's brain to eat it.

Arachne forced herself to chuckle, understanding the jeopardy if she did not. "You have quite the accurate analogy, Matron Aunerae!" She lied. Right through her teeth. "What I have found is that the male in question responds to orders with quite proficiency, most likely from his daily disciplines, and our lessons in the library. He would follow your orders without question in the heat of battle, Matron." She took a breath, attempting to not wash her mouth out with acid for describing her naïve brother in that sense, as he was only a child. "However, he does have an element of individual thinking, and, from my understanding and observations, he makes the proper choices quite quickly."

"And of his speaking clarity? We can't afford an incompetent Secondboy, no?"

Arachne cleared her throat, the gradually growing lump in her throat threatening her fortitude, which was required for this reaction. "He speaks quite well, and his vocabulary is immaculate. He speaks as you and I do, despite being just a boy." Seeing her mother gearing up to speak once more, no doubt to inquire about his strength evaluation, she opened her mouth again, to earn a nod of approval from the Matron. "The male has also passed physique checks and tests, as I hear that K'yornl has him working on his speed and skill with a sword. Such things are quite helpful, as he will leave the House for Slaekmia at the age of twenty, with fifteen years more of experience to better the title of the House."

Matron Aunerae nodded, an intimidating glint in her eyes as she did so, black lips rising into a small smirk before leaning back into her throne of metal. "So, he will be the perfect replacement for the martyr. Perhaps he will aspire to more, as it seems as if you have done quite well for yourself, Arachne." She intertwined her fingers together, the smirk still remaining on her face, a feverish chill making itself known as it crawled up her spine as Arachne's eyes stared into the carmine ones belonging to her mother.

Knowing the proper mannerisms for such a compliment, albeit quite strange for the rather forceful community, was to simply state that you knew, which was the only time that one would be allowed to say such a thing to a Matron Mother. So, Arachne merely stated: "I know, Matron Aunerae." before awaiting her dismissal.

"Lolth's blessings be upon you, daughter." Matron Aunerae stated wryly, almost as if she was withholding boredom, waving her off, "As with you male." This was a gesture towards Xarann as well, who bowed his head in respect before walking away at Arachne's side, his arms folded behind his back, further making him appear as if he was professional, as he was, more so in his black button up coat, a side cape protruding from the pad in his right shoulder.

The two walked out of the room with some speed, as Matron Aunerae's patience was not something she was well known for, if she had any at all. All of her most renowned massacres came from impatience, as she had demanded that a certain group of svirfneblin leave Abburth's streets, and yet had not waited the three days she had promised them before eradicating every single Deep Gnome in the group before the start of the second day. Such things had become normalized, as the Spider Queen was a chaotic Goddess, and therefore her followers were the same, if not shockingly similar.

In her own defense, however, it was early during her time as a Matron Mother, and, despite being the First Matron Mother of the city, the young drow elf had to prove herself in some way. It was the same during the time in which the House had lost favor one hundred years ago, which Arachne now knew the reason for, only to be ended by a mass murder of the Bugbears and Duergar of the city, where the population of all three races met with Matron Aunerae's wrath were only dwindling back due to the fear of the woman. The Coborial House was on everyone's tongues almost at all times.

As brother and sister walked, Xarann opened his mouth to speak, one of the first times Arachne had ever heard him do such a thing due to his rather reserved nature, dedicated to magic and study. In that way, the two siblings were the same. Although, for some strange reason he spoke in the language native to mindflayers and the like, as the two were the only ones in the House with the capability to speak a language such as deep speech, as it was quite the challenge to learn. It was something the both had done in their free time.

"I have come to hear that you have accomplished some unique things when song reaches you. Why do you think that is, sister?" He stated, looking at her with indifferent crimson eyes, as he looked at everyone in that sense. Although a feeling of pride shot through his irises like an arrow of fire being thrown from the home of its ballista, but only for a moment before they returned to their undisturbed state.

There was a moment of silence, where Arachne continued her walk with her brother, contemplating her next move, knowing that one wrong step would cause her end. She hadn't quite cared about the strange occurrence, as she had always found peace and rejuvenation in song, even the horrible sounds drow bards made that the society classified as "classic music." As many times in her life, curiosity did outweigh the other possible reasons to which she would say no, and it was almost foolish how she was planning her next move, and she recognized this, but for some reason she did not care, despite the threat of blackmail.

Arachne huffed in amusement, knowing quite well her brother had control, and planned to flip it around for her own comfort, "You speak as if you know, brother." she mocked, noting that they were beginning to make their way towards the library, a place both associated with safety. So, perhaps there was no malicious intent in what Xarann was trying to tell her, but perhaps a gesture, however discreet as it was, that he was on her side, whatever side she was on, as it was all clouded by a shroud of true darkness, the first she experienced in the sack Bemril had her in.

"Why, in fact, I do. But what will I get in return? 'Safety' isn't enough, mind you. I have taken care of myself centuries longer than you, Arachne." Xarann remarked, making it well known that, despite his aloof disposition, he was just as dangerous as any of her siblings. It now made more sense that Chadra had called him a, 'sly asshole.' The mage knew how to haggle.

She chuckled, a small smile ghosting over her features for but a moment, before she continued speaking in the language of deep speech. "Well, I can give you information. I know, as a wizard, you quite care about such things. Perhaps about..." Arachne tapped her chin, knowing very well, from Cazna's journals, that she and Xarann were relatively close, probably as close as she and Durdyn were. So, she believed she could use her knowledge. "Perhaps about our eldest sister's fate. That Houseless told me what happened to her." She resisted the urge to wince at not using Kethan's name, or even his title, she owed him that much.

The face that appeared for but a moment upon Xarann's features was one to cherish to most other drow, as it was as if he was stabbed by a spearhead, and was surprised by the occurrence. There Arachne knew she had ensured her safety, and instead had him in a trap, that she didn't quite care to have her brother captured in, but would have to if she could even fathom living to the age of one hundred. She had made one to many risks in her life, and would have to begin to use her way with words to ensure her breath. "Very well, then. Spin your tale, bard."

This was Arachne's time to connect ties, realizing that her disregard to what Kethan had called her in his crazed state, was truthfully an act of buffoonery on her part. The music that came to her, perhaps it was simply an act of the bardic ability that she was given, however strange it was, as there was no bardic blood in the family to muddle her own. So, perhaps Xarann was wrong?

Deep down, Arachne knew, this was not true.

"Matron Aunerae killed her after she showed tendencies of blasphemy, in the streets after she attempted to escape, with the use of her favorite demon, that Sibiriex she calls Diablo." The siblings shuddered at the mention of the flesh-bound creature, that was older than all of them, including their mother, and had killed Matron Nathrae II and her daughters three centuries ago, and had been with Matron Aunerae since then, her own attack dog held within her fingers. Some even said that she had prepared its own part of the Pocket Realm for the creature to keep it.

Xarann nodded, "I see. I suppose no one could have expected less, it is quite clear that she deserved it." He paused for a moment before they reached the door of the library itself, the wizard's voice whispering its last words in Arachne's ear as he moved to walk in, "And as for you, bard, I can ensure you will have many stories to tell."

________________

You just read 2, 345 words!

I have no clue why this was so difficult to write, so I apologize for poor quality if it is considered as such! I am still learning how to write, and I know that it takes practice. I'm just not very proud in this chapter, or at least the ending of it anyway.

#writing fiction #writer things #writeblr #write #writers on tumblr #writersociety #writing #original fiction #original story #drow #dnd drow #drow elf #elf #dnd elf #dnd elves #elves #chapter eleven

[minionwater]

thinks about him again

#sanders art tag #this is just a nostalgia drawing but show was banger tbh I really gotta rewatch it #he’s been in my brain for nine years your honor #cragger #legends of chima #lego

[atheliasnotebook]

(Idk if I’m aloud to request still, sorry in advance if I can’t) can I request a Kazuha enemies to lovers? The ending is up to you <3

The Series of Written Apologies (Part 1/4)

pairing: kaedehara kazuha x gender neutral reader

tags: major story spoilers, angst to fluff

enemies to lovers, minor slow burn

author note: im so sorry this is what processed through my brain when i thought enemies to lovers T-T forgive me

Why bother with books? Why bother with intelligence? You believed that musing about poetic verses and other artistic things is what makes the world so boring. Of course, it's hard to remember the exact reason for your antics and reasoning now that you're out of high school and well into adulthood.

You teased the Kaedehara boy so much about it. Yet, you still stayed far, and so close at the same time. Back in that time, he would simply brush off your comments and smile as you looked at him with a smug sort of scorn. However, your high school years weren't so kind to both of you, but now as you meet his fiery ruby eyes tucked behind silver glasses, he looks at you with disgust and anger; whilst you, on the contrary, seek his forgiveness.

DAY 3027, LETTER 128

To Kaedehara Kazuha, I’m sorry for missing your birthday, not that you would have wanted to celebrate it with me, out of all people. I would have taken you out to that park with the pretty maple leaf trees that you always like. if you sang me songs, played me music, read my poetry, I wouldn’t care. I just want my time with you again...

It doesn’t matter though, the way you looked me in the eyes about 20 years ago will never leave me. I know, maybe some things I teased you about were a little far, but you should have just told me to stop. “what happened?” is all I wonder. I know it’s been years since that happened. maybe you’ve forgotten about me now, or better and worse yet, you still think about me like how I think about you.

All I want to do is apologize to your face. I’ll continue to search for you.

Signed, ______

You had folded this letter once again, pulling out one of your desk drawers and taking a cookie tin from the top, tucking it on top among the stacks of other letters that you had written to him. And as you close this tin that’s stacked on top of about eight, maybe nine other ones (four side-by-side), the familiar feeling of relief sweeps your nerves. Maybe he would forgive you if he saw the other 100 or something letters you wrote. maybe he would forgive you if you and he had sat down together—talked about what happened to his best friend, who was your best rival. But never mind that. You had to get some work down for your new research report for your co-worker—she’s been dying to get it for ages and peer review it since she’s been looking for something to do ever since her boss put her on review duty for missing class for an entire week.

You packed up your things, putting on some socks and your favorite shoes to go with, along with a long coat in honor of the late fall/early winter season. Why not take a walk to write at the Komore Teahouse? Maybe you could think about your late middle school days for the thousandth time—when you and Kazuha were somewhat friends. you see, moving on is difficult. ever since kazuha expressed such anger towards a person, you’ve always sat on it. More importantly, why did that person have to be you? Sure, maybe you took jabs at him for always being a bit of a nerd, but you never actually meant any harm. with every step, your heart seems to stay numb to that feeling of longing. You missed him.

More than anything, you missed him.

But the question that still remains is—do you miss him because you also miss Tomo? Or do you miss him because you were in love with him, and just didn’t realize it? Pangs of heartache left your heart wanting friends to spend time with like you did when you were in high school. The twins, Aether and Lumine, Albedo, Yoimiya, Gorou, Kokomi—what happened to them? Of course, you had to give it to Kokomi, she’s always busy doing her management stuff. Gorou? he’s teaching the kids how to fight—while you, on the other hand, are fighting your own mental battles. Yoimiya is probably testing out some sort of explosives somewhere, while Albedo is performing another experiment. You can��t just bother them and ask for their advice—their lives are busy enough… why burden them more?

Kazuha.

Kaedehara Kazuha.

Oh, how sweet his name feels as you mouth his name silently while fallen leaves carry on the wind. You almost feel pathetic, being so sentimental about someone you felt like you were always mean to.

[...]

“Kazuha—what are you reading? ‘How to Romance for Morons?’” you teased, crossing your arms as you peered over at the words on his page.

Kazuha just flipped a page, acknowledging your remark with a smile.

“Pffttt—you don’t attract anyone in this school, how would you even expect me to fall for you?”

“Do not raise your hopes, ______, desperation does not necessarily lead to fulfillment.”

“One, I am not desperate—and two, I don’t need any sort of fulfillment, especially romantic involving the likes of you.”

“Well..." he begins, "... judging by the look on your face, it seems as though—“

You clear your throat. “A-anyways—“

“Are you going to bring up your next fencing match results?”

“Y-yes, as a matter of fact—this time, I get to face off against Tomo!”

“Tomo?” Kazuha asks as he bookmarks the page and closes his book. “And do tell me why he is choosing to help you, I am quite curious.”

“That—“ you said as you leaned in close to his face before backing away. “—is none of your business, nerd.”

Kazuha smiles. “It is my business if you want me to list out all the mistakes you made at last practice.”

God, you knew your face was flushing. It was so ungodly apparent to the point where you’d actually rather read a book at that time than have to look at that Kaedehara boy’s face, with his stupid eyes and old-looking hair…

“And what are you going to do, get a career in writing lies and going to pointless interviews?”

“Well, I believe that it is better than spending my time doing nothing… unlike a certain someone I know,” Kazuha replies with a smirk before closing his book, packing it in his satchel, and slinging it across his shoulder.

[...]

It wasn’t like bullying, more like playful jabs. And yet, the stabbing that you feel in the pit of your stomach says otherwise. After all, you never know what could affect someone and what couldn’t.

Unaware before. Overthinking now.

Don't think about this now, you thought. there are more important things to worry about as it is.

As you come to creep up around the corner of the Crux Café, you wouldn’t have expected to see the same silver, maple-touched boy from your high school days in a gray apron and glasses, cleaning a counter.

You tried to speak. even though it was only you two in the immediate vicinity—and even though you wanted to apologize, waves of shock and fear passed over you. With only a chair and a few tables being the only space between you besides the counter, eye contact—added with a touch of anxiety, was the perfect recipe for instant regret.

You mouthed words. You stuttered. How could you be so stupid at this moment? You have it, just seize the opportunity!

“K-Kazuha, I-I—“

“We’re closed.”

He simply looks at you with defiant burning eyes of hatred.

“B-but—“

“Do not show your face here ever again—next time you do, i will not hesitate to—“

And both of you turn to see a curtain flip from behind the counter, and two other familiar figures emerge—one from childhood, another from family.

author's note: tysm for reading! im not really sure how to tag this time around and how my writing is, but i hope that with this blog, that i can improve my skills at writing romance! let me know what you think of my stuff either in comments/inbox! ❤️

#genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #kaedehara kazuha #kaedehara x reader #teyvat metropolis #genshin modern au #kazuha angst #kazuha enemies to lovers #kazuha x reader #kazuha x y/n #athi.post

[in---absentia]

Video Girl | 1 | Erwin Smith

Summary: Despite your best efforts, a year after getting your Masters you are still struggling to get hired within your dream industry. But bills don’t pay themselves and groceries don’t magically show up on your door step, so you turn to the internet for your main source of income.

Erwin, a Director at a cyber security company constantly stressed and hitting a point of loneliness he hadn’t previously thought possible turns to the internet to fill that void and finds comfort in the most unexpected place. 

Author’s Note: This idea has been in my brain for over a month now and I have to get it out. This is going to be another long form fic, still trying to determine how many chapters it will be in general. But I’m proud of this one, and hope you enjoy what’s to come. Also, go to my blog to read this if you’re on Tumblr on your desktop. “Read More” straight from the dash doesn’t get the formatting right, I’ll work on that later. It looks wonky even for mobile soooo ¯\_(ツ)_/ I’ll look into it.

Words: 7k

Tag (for this chapter): Modern AU. Office AU. Cis-Fem Reader. Tall-Coded Reader. Athletic-Coded Reader. Sex Work. Masturbation. MDNI. 18+ Only.  

Next Chapter

Another dark morning, another alarm blaring at 6 a.m. It was the same routine as always, regardless of the total hours of sleep you had the night before you were up at the next day at your usual time. Even if your alarm wasn’t set you probably would have started to rouse at that hour, almost physically incapable of sleeping past it at this point. 

Eyes bleary and still getting adjusted to the lights that automatically turned on to reflect the sun rising outside you yawned loudly as you sat up in bed and started your morning routine. A recently viral series of word games to kick start your brain, flipping through your social media apps twice before checking your email, and, if you had time, a scan of the news before you trudged to the kitchen to start boiling some water ahead of hopping into your 7 a.m. shower. On most days this is when you’d move into your yoga practice for the day to help “center” yourself as your friend had suggested but today was different. 

Today you had an in person interview at 9 a.m. It was a full panel, 4 sessions scheduled with 7 people over the course of nearly 5 hours. It was also the final round, and something you were absolutely desperate to land. Six months out of grad school and you were still unemployed, something that you were embarrassed about. Every other person in your program had either had a job lined up before graduation or were quickly hired afterwards and you were submitting application after application day after day, working nights, and still empty handed. 

Even though you had graduated with honors and in the top ten of the class. 

But it wasn’t the time for that train of thought! You had to shower quickly, drink your first tea of the day while you dried your hair and applied your makeup, and dress to the nines for this interview. Pressed suit, low heels, you were the picture of professionalism as you grabbed your bag and checked that your portfolio was in it along with all of your other necessities. 

Glancing at the clock relief rushed through you as you realized it was well before 8 am. If you left now you’d be able to get downtown in 20 minutes, walk the 10 from the station to the office, and sit at a coffee shop nearby at prep for another 20 before arriving at the interview a reasonable 10 minutes ahead of schedule. With one final look around your room though you checked your desk, looking over at the three monitors you had plugged in and noticing that your PC was still running. Walking over, you quickly turned it off before checking that your webcam was covered with a cloth and nodding to yourself satisfactorily. 

It was time to go though and you walked over to the bus stop, headphones in and ready to zone out for the next 30 minutes. 

When you got into the heart of downtown you stepped off the bus and quickly made your way through the streets, expertly avoiding early morning tourists and other just-as-busy individuals making their way to work. As you turned the corner you spotted the coffee shop you had scoped out the night before just down the block. A matcha latte and some time for interview prep was exactly what you needed, and for the first time all morning a smile broke out on your face. Yes, this was going to be a good day, you could feel it. 

As that affirmation crossed your mind catastrophe struck. You opened the door to the store, stepped inside, and someone at the cream and sugar station to the left turned around on their heel at that moment, laughing loudly at the person next to them before immediately bumping into you. 

To your absolute horror the drink was pressed right into your chest and the lid popped off, drenching you in an iced coffee in one second. 

“Shit!!”

“Oh my god!” The person proclaimed, their eyes wide behind glasses as they reached out to you in a panic. 

“Oh my god!” You just echoed, your hands gripping on the hem of your now stained blouse as the color drained from your face. 

“I’m so sorry!” The other person spoke again but you weren’t listening, barely aware of the three people who had crowded around you now with concern. 

“Oh god, oh Ymir, I gotta, I gotta shop. I gotta get to a store. Oh god is anything even open around here?” 

And with that you turned on your heel, the door slamming shut behind you, immediately running in the direction of a store you knew had a location nearby and leaving behind a group of flustered individuals. 

“Levi! You could have told me someone was behind me!”

“Hange, you need to be more aware of your surroundings, you were too busy ranting about your research that you missed the bell jingling,” the shorter male scoffed. 

“Erwin, do you hear this?” Hange nearly wailed as they finally grabbed an outrageous amount of napkins and dropped them on the floor, smiling sheepishly at the barista who had come from behind the counter to clean the mess on the floor. 

Erwin simply stood there stoically, but also genuinely surprised by the commotion that had just ensued. Glancing out the window he saw the woman sprint away but his attention was immediately back on his two friends as Levi scoffed and complained about the mess that Hange had made. 

“Levi, Hange, accidents happen. That woman seemed to be in a panic though.”

Levi sighed as Hange went off to order a new drink, taking a long sip out of his chai latte before he shrugged. “Maybe it was the first day on the job? She should know to bring a spare shirt though.”

Erwin couldn’t help but smile lightly at that as Levi carried with moving back to a table as they waited on Hange. Even after all these years of knowing him Levi could still make a comment that he could shake his head at before moving on. A spare shirt was something that only Levi would think of, but before he could continue with that topic Hange came back over with a new drink and a train of thought completely different than what they were on a few minutes ago. 

“Ok, so I wanted to talk about this before we got to the office, but we really need to speed up recruitment.”

Levi looked bored of the suggestion and Erwin wished that they had waited until they were at least in their building, or at least until his coffee was finished. It had been three months since Moblit had moved to another company and left a huge hole within their organization. He was the perfect compliment to Hange, the calm to her chaotic, and without him there had been an intense hit in productivity. He had just been too good, and while the other members of her team weren’t bad, there was an obvious need for someone just as talented and just as willing to put up with Hange’s managerial style. 

The last three months had led to a ton of interviews, but many either dropped out of the process, used the offers as leverage at their current job for raises, or to be quite frank, were absolutely awful and shouldn’t have gotten past the first call with the recruiter. 

It was excruciating.

Standing up, he grabbed his bag and started to walk to their office, the two following him like always. “We decided to post a new job description that will hopefully attract a more senior candidate. I stated that we needed this position filled by the end of the month and they understand I am serious,” he explained as the three walked through the now crowded sidewalks. 

“I knew I could count on you Commander!” Hange said with a thumbs up as Levi opened up his email. 

“Looks like it was posted earlier this morning,” he said as he held his phone out for the others to see, Hange leaning over excitedly to see if anyone had applied yet. 

Erwin continue to walk ahead though, trying to gain at least five more minutes of quiet before he had to completely slip into his work persona. “The Commander” was a nickname that he had received after his first promotion, when he became the manager of Levi, Hange, and their coworker Mike. The three of them dubbed him that after a particularly tense meeting when Erwin took complete control of the room and was able to get people who were balking at an idea he had on his side with a single speech. Years later and they had risen through the ranks together, him now a Senior Director of Network Security and the others his lead Senior Managers, but they still called him that without an ounce of hesitation. 

Walking through the doors of Survey Corps, the crowd in the lobby seemed to part for the three of them as they made their way through. They were known throughout the company for good reason, and as they entered the elevator people actually made sure they didn’t crowd around them in hopes to not get on their bad side. As the door was about to shut though, a long arm shot through the closing doors, causing a few to gasp. 

Luckily, the man’s arm wasn’t snapped in two and the doors opened up to Mike, a lazy smile on his face as he stepped on. 

“Ah, you three came in together today?” He said as he realized who else was on the elevator. 

The elevator was silent, people once again not wanting to bother the four respected leaders but also hoping to get any sort of insight into the notoriously closed off “squad”. 

“We decided to meet at Beans this morning!” Hange proclaimed before sighing, “It was a mess though.”

“Oh really?”

“I spilled my first drink alllllll over this younger woman. She freaked out and ran out of the store shouting about needing to buy a new shirt.” 

Mike whistled sympathetically, “Hopefully she didn’t have an interview or something. That would be awful.”

Levi shuddered at that, hating to imagine showing up so disheveled to something that important as Hange groaned beside him and bemoaned that they felt awful about it all. Without any sort of reaction Erwin stood there in the middle, quickly walking off the elevator when the doors opened and people stood to the side for him. As Levi and Hange walked over to their desks, Mike simply just dropped his bag on his own and followed after Erwin, catching his office door once again with his long arms as it swung shut. 

Door closed behind them and Erwin dropping his briefcase and coffee on his desk, Mike slid onto the sofa in his office and leaned back, head dropping on it as he turned to look at his friend. 

“The smell of four shots of espresso in your usual latte were taking over the entire elevator.  What’s eating you today?” He asked unceremoniously.

Erwin sighed as he sat down in his chair and started to open his bag and ready his space for the day. This was the last thing he wanted to do, even more than scanning through resumes and potential candidates, but he knew that of all people Mike wouldn’t drop the subject. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” he answered honestly as he booted up his laptop. 

Mike hummed thoughtfully at that and said upright, the couch looking hilariously small when he sat appropriately. “Like you can’t stop thinking so you can’t sleep? Or actual insomnia?”

“Could both be the answer?”

“Do you want to talk about the “why” of it all?”

“No.”

Mike shrugged and nodded at the same time and Erwin just went back to his coffee, about to end this conversation with a simple lie of “I have a meeting” before Mike laughed once from across the room abruptly. Looking over at his friend, Erwin was immediately suspicious when he saw him pull out his phone and tap away. As Mike slid his phone in his pocket his own buzzed on his desk and he rolled his eyes as Mike smiled on the couch across from him. 

Opening his messages, he looked at the latest one from Mike and clicked the URL posted in there without reading it, his eyebrows immediately shooting up as the webpage loaded and he closed out of it instantly once the first image loaded. 

“Are you insane?” He shouted, anger apparent on his face but Mike just started laughing again before standing up. 

“Maybe, probably just a little. You knew that though. I’m serious though, if you have trouble sleeping go there. Always made me tired,” he said with a shit eating grin on his face. 

“I don’t want to think of what this site made you do that could lead you to being tired!” Erwin said in a harsh whisper as he looked past Mike to see if anyone was walking by. 

“We’re adults, we’re friends, we have talked about our preferences and kinks and I think she fits the bill.”

“I am not going to watch someone that you watch,” Erwin started before Mike cut him off. 

“First off, I don’t watch her anymore. For your information I now prefer amateur porn of couples, not solo women since you know, Nana isn’t into solo stuff.”

“I have to look Nana in the eyes knowing the porn you two watch,” Erwin groaned and Mike just carried on. 

“And she would tell you this just as openly, we trust you Erwin. But come on, it’s not a relationship, it’s a fun 30 minute show that happens almost nightly. Super secure, like the most secure site I’ve ever been on it’s kind of crazy, I know that’s a huge thing for you. You can log in, see if you like it, and hopefully fall asleep right after.” 

“We never should have worked at the same company,” Erwin sighed as he looked at his friend from college. Boundaries blurred beyond belief, it wasn’t a surprise that this line had been finally crossed during work hours. 

Walking to the door, Mike turned back and feigned a sorrowful look, “You don’t mean that. If you come into work looking just as tired tomorrow though I’m going to have to think of something else that could work to get you to sleep, Eyebrow.” With a wave he was out the door without a farewell, immediately slipping into work mode as he walked off to his desk. 

Erwin looked down at his phone, eyes narrowed as he stared at the now distasteful object. 

Mike had a superior sense of smell, but damn the man was also brilliant in sniffing out the root of most of Erwin’s problems. 

And he could immediately tell that at the base of it all, Erwin was lonely. His top priority in life was work and nearly every personal relationship he had that existed outside of his team had been long lost.

But he couldn’t stoop to taking a recommendation for porn from a friend, absolutely not, it was off the table. 

The interview had been bad. 

It wasn’t even a debatable “You’re probably doubting yourself,” situation, it had been bad from the beginning. 

All shops that could have potentially carried a replacement for your wet top weren’t open until 11, and when you called the recruiter asking to postpone by an hour they didn’t have much sympathy stating that it couldn’t have been that bad. 

Her grimace when she greeted you at the lobby showed her true feelings though. 

From there your confidence was shot, each panelist giving you an obviously confused and unimpressed once over even after you explained your conflict that morning. The recruiter wouldn’t let you step out during one of the longer 30 minute breaks and so you ended up going to an “impromptu” lunch with members of the larger team in the cafeteria, nearly every employee who walked by doing a double take when they saw the stain. It was quite possibly the worst interview you had had, and it all came crumbling down when they asked that question they always seemed to ask. 

“Why is there a gap on your resume between undergrad and your Masters?”

You gave your response, explained as professionally and succinctly as possible, but you knew it was over once you spoke. 

The walk to the bus stop was excruciating, the bus road home seemingly infinite, and by the time you got home all you could do was strip out of your suit and crawl under the covers, an alarm set for later in the day so you wouldn’t sleep through the evening and wake up at midnight. 

You had somewhere to be this evening. 

After a 4 hour pity nap you woke up around eight and started your usual evening routine, just as crucial as the morning one but decidedly different. Instead of a pant suit from your closet, you pulled out a drawer in your dresser, scanning through the various costumes and bras and panties you had before settling on a lacy dark green set you had recently purchased but hadn’t worn before. You slid into that and then a black robe you had hanging on a door and started to make your bed. You started to mess with the lighting of your room and instead of shutting down your computer you made sure it was on and that all three monitors were operating. Turning on your webcam, you adjusted the angle and then made sure a camera set across your room was turned on so you could switch to that one if needed, and messed with the lighting once again to ensure that the color didn’t clash with your outfit. 

In between all of that, you checked your email to see a notification sent out about a new job posting, one for a company you knew very well that hadn’t had any openings in the past few months since you missed out on applying for their last position by a day. Jumping on it you submitted your resume quickly before you put your phone across the room and on silent, wanting to be completely undisturbed for the next hour. 

Sitting down in your usual space on your bed, you took one last moment to make sure your set up was perfectly framed before you looked at the clock and realized it was just shy of 11 PM. With the click of a single button, one of your screens changed to an old school countdown used in film before a chime went off and the image was replaced with you, robe perfectly tied to accentuate your waist, legs tucked below you to show off the shape of your ass, and sleeve slightly off the shoulder to draw the eye to your chest. 

Lights, camera, action, it was time to be “Metis”.

Within seconds the first comments started to roll in. 

Beast69: Metis, Babe, you look amazing in British Racing Green.  Tatakae69: she’s not your babe RideMe: That color 👀 RideMe: amazing on you Beast69: She’s not your’s either.  yel_my_name: God ur so hot RideMe: Are you nice and wet for us? Tatakae69: shut the fuck up Tatakae69: also what the fuck is british racing green yel_my_name: I want to see u fuck urself 

“Oh, come on now, Beast, Tatakae, you know I hate to see you two fight,” you spoke with a giggle, your voice slightly higher than its normal pitch. You let out a small hum before your voice dropped and you let out a breathy, “Well, that’s a lie. You know I love to see you fight over me.”

The chat erupted with that and you glanced over to see the total number of viewers who had logged on. It was one of your larger shows in awhile, but something that stood out was the notification you got saying there was a first time viewer in the stream. That hadn’t happened in a few months since you hadn’t been advertising, so you found yourself interested in who the new member could be. 

Glancing back at the comments you saw a few familiar names, including Beast and Tatakae continuing to bicker as they fought for your attention. Beast always dropped a tip in the beginning, and you saw his 20 bucks come through. Knowing what he liked you started to play with the hem of your robe, pulling it back to reveal more of your breasts as you thanked him for his gift. From there you would receive smaller tips as people started to put in their requests, but your eyes stayed on the numbers, seeing that it was starting to plateau after 5 minutes but that the newcomer hadn’t left a comment or tip yet. 

yel_my_name: plz fuck urself on your pink dildo SleepyGorl: take it slow tonight SleepyGorl: i want to cum w u SleepyGorl: but I’m tired hahaha

“Oh, Sleepy, I think I need something fast and hard tonight,” you said with a sigh as you started to grind on the pillow you were perched on, “I had a really bad day.”

Beast69: What happened? Tatakae69: who do I need to fight? RideMe: oh noooooo Metis 🥺

“Ohhh,” you said as you trailed off, slowly starting to play with the tie around your waist now, rubbing your hands down your thighs. “I bombed an interview, like, really bad,” you admitted, knowing that you had mentioned it to your viewers in the past. 

ourdevilourhope: u r interviewing? ourdevilourhope: dumb slut ourdevilourhope: u know the only thing u r good 4 is sucking cock ourdevilourhope: fucking whore

Erwin couldn’t believe what he was watching unfold. Despite his moral compass saying it was wrong, that he shouldn’t be watching porn that Mike sent him he found himself in his bed, lights low, pajamas on, ear buds in and the woman known as “Metis” on his screen.

He usually would have still been at the office, or at least in his study continuing what he had stopped working on to take his commute back home, but Mike had dragged him out to dinner with Nana, demanding that he put down his work for at least an hour to catch up. Of course the dinner was filled with innuendos from the perfectly in synch couple. When Nana had insisted that “she” would be perfect for him he balked, but despite it all he found himself hours later clicking on the link once more. 

When he first went to the site he had seen a schedule posted and after scrolling through the few photos that she had on the site he found himself signing up. It was relatively straight forward, some terms and conditions he read through and agreed with, a variety of secure payment options depending on the level of access he wanted, but finally it came to the point where he had to choose his display name. Fingers hovering above the keyboard, he hesitated a moment before he typed in “Commander” and hit enter. 

Upon doing so a video popped up on his screen and he realized he was watching a livestream, complete with comments and a tipping function and more. 

He sat there for a few moments though mesmerized at the woman on his screen. She had long legs, a trim waist, and her arms seemed defined based on how she was supporting herself as she ground down onto a pillow. He had gotten a quick glimpse of her in photos from her site, but this was something different entirely. The lighting was intimate, skin washed in a dim golden light that matched the light of his own room, but her face was hidden. He couldn’t help but long to know what color her hair was, how expressive her eyes were, what minute expressions he was unable to see. 

It was overwhelming, the amount of interest he felt. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he had done something like this and was almost about to log out but she spoke to someone who went by “SleepyGorl” and he let out a stuttered breath as he heard her speak, her voice washing over him like a balm. A bad day? He had one of those too. Another pile of resumes on his desk for people not even close to qualified, another day of dealing with opposition from senior management, nothing seemed to have gone right since the mess of the morning. 

Hearing her speak about an interview he found himself interested, wondering what she could have been interviewing for when he saw a comment come in from someone called “ourdevilourhope”. He didn’t realize it but he took a sharp inhale upon reading it, his eyebrows furrowing and a quiet anger beginning to roar. 

Without hesitating, he quickly responded. 

Commander: That is exceptionally rude.  Commander: You know nothing of her.

He couldn’t explain it, but he immediately felt protective of the woman on his screen, especially when she paused and leaned in, most likely getting a better view of what people were saying. He was shocked when he heard the next words from her. 

“You’re right. He is rude. No one talks to me that way unless I say I want it, and I didn’t say I wanted it tonight.”

Comments flooded in after that from several users, all of them denouncing the other user, most of them simply hoping to get acknowledgement like he did. He couldn’t stop staring at her as she messed around with the computer, a soft “sorry” falling from her lips before she leaned back and got into a new position on her bed. 

“Sorry for that all, gave ourdevil a soft ban for tonight. I want it rough and hard but I want someone to take care of me and tell me it will all be ok, not insult my worth.”

Erwin felt his cock twitch at that, the blood rushing down as the woman kneeled on the bed directly facing the camera. Again without thought he sent a comment, sure that it would be missed among the tens of others coming in. 

Commander: You deserve to be cared for Metis.

A fun little feature you had built out was the ability to flag first time viewers so their comments would stand out to you. It was a little trick you built so that you could make people feel special from their first chat, a simple “She noticed me?” that would leave them coming back for more. 

But for once, you were kind of stunned by the first time comments coming from this new viewer. 

The usual response was always “I’ll take care of you”, “I know what you need”, “I’ll make you feel better than ok”, so to see someone simply affirm that what you were feeling was fair? That you did deserve to have someone look out for you and that it wasn’t a useless wish? You were kind of astonished and found yourself pausing for a moment before slipping back into character. 

“I see we have a first time visitor, thank you for spending time with me tonight,” you said, waiting to see if they’d respond. You saw comments come in from long time viewers saying they were always here for you but you ignored them for now, waiting to see if the person would comment directly on that. 

Instead, a notification popped up on one screen showing that they had tipped you $50, your largest of the night so far. 

You immediately disrobed at that, tossing the fake silk to the side as you began to run your hands down your stomach, fingers dipping under the edge of your thong, playing with the band on your hips. “I haven’t had fun with someone new in so long, please tell me what to do, Commander,” you said as you held your breath and waited for their comment to come through. 

Fifty dollars was nothing to Erwin, he would throw down far more during a casual poker game. There wasn’t much thought behind the value he chose, he simply felt that he had to give her something for putting up with the vile commenter from before. 

She had to have seen it since within seconds she had called for him, deliberately said his name, well, username, asked him to tell her what to do. The robe had slipped off her form and he found himself leaning in, immediately expanding the screen so that the chat took up the least amount of space possible. He shuddered at the image before him and began to palm at his cock through his boxers, coming to full hardness faster than he expected. Everything about this night was so unexpected, so fast. 

It was as if she knew that the deep emerald shade of her lingerie was his favorite color. Up close he could perfectly imagine his prized bolo tie resting at the base of her throat, the leather wrapped around his hands as he tugged on it, forcing her to look up at him as she let out a gasp of pleasure.

Hissing loudly as he pulled his hand away, almost pained that he had to stop, he sent a simple response. 

Commander: Strip. Slowly.

What the hell was happening to you? Were you really that entranced by someone simply validating that you were allowed to want to be wanted, to want someone to take you in their arms and let you know that even though things weren’t looking great they would support you as you pushed on?

Hands slightly shaking, you reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, changing your posture so that it slid down slowly, pulling the delicate straps down your arms as your breasts were slowly exposed. Your breath hitched and you let out a small gasp as the fabric brushed against your nipples, causing them to stiffen. It was outrageous how sensitive your body was, you couldn’t remember the last time a show had felt this real to you. 

Her breasts were divine, there was no other way to describe them. They were the perfect size, all he could think about was getting one of his large hands on it, how he would take her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and play with it until she was gasping for more. 

He pulled his shirt up his chest, exposing his beautifully cut abdomen. The light from the laptop cut shadows into sharp angles, nothing about him soft from his chest to his jawline to his nose. 

“Fuck if only there was a microphone,” he whispered as he typed out his next order. 

Commander: All of it. 

You knew that your viewers were completely invested in the show now, you saw a flash of comments that said just as much but you were only on the lookout for one of them. With great care you angled yourself so that your profile was completely on the screen and slowly started to pull your underwear down, turning around a little more as you exposed the entirety of your ass for the first time on screen. 

Tossing the undergarment to the side, you turned back to the camera again, eagerly awaiting what he would say next. 

Commander: Beautiful. 

Hot, sexy, lustful, slutty, oh god when was the last time someone had simply called you “beautiful”? Had it really been so long that you found yourself craving it?

Commander: Now spread your legs for me, but don’t touch yourself. 

“Yes, of course,” you said breathily as you leaned back, legs now hanging off of the bed as you sat on the edge of it. Slowly you began to spread your legs, the comments blowing up as your puffy lips were finally exposed for all to see. 

Looking back at the monitor you felt your face flush, you were visibly wet, your slick coating your inner thighs and you couldn’t remember ever being this wet at the beginning of a stream if you hadn’t prepared yourself beforehand. 

“What else?” 

Erwin groaned as he took in her glistening thighs, absolutely enthralled with how wet she  had become in the past few minutes. He desperately hoped that he was the one causing all of this for her, but he was at his breaking point and needed to see how she would bring herself to ecstasy, needed to know whether she was loud or quiet, if her back would arch, if she would take the time to play with herself or dive straight into her warmth. 

He needed the sight of her coming undone, but he had to give one final direction. 

Commander: There are 20 minutes left of your show. I want you to wait those entire 20 minutes before you come from only your hand. You said you wanted it fast and hard, so push yourself to the edge as many times as you can but don’t come until I tell you to. 

She gasped once again, a sound of pure awe, and he found himself consumed with the desperate wish that he could see her face, a frustrated huff falling from his lips as he ripped his sweatpants down and his cock bounced against his abs, red, stiff, angry, and crying for attention. 

“I’ll wait for your command,” you whispered before your hand dipped down to your sensitive folds, gathering the slick at your aching entrance before you spread your legs even wider and brought your wet finger up to circle your clit, massaging the tight bud and starting to pant as you quickly began to tease yourself. 

The pleasure was overwhelming, you didn’t know how you were going to last 20 minutes. But for this newcomer? The “Commander”? You would do whatever you could. 

Erwin wrapped his fist around his cock, grasping harshly at the long neglected head of it and using his precum as lube as he began to pump. He tried to match Metis’ pace, slowing down when she did and thrusting in time with the movement of her hips. 

It was intoxicating, it was erotic, it was everything he hadn’t felt in years. 

How the fuck was he supposed to last 20 minutes?

18 minutes and 47 seconds you were a panting mess, your eyes wildly searching the stream of comments for the new username as you found yourself having to stop yourself from cumming for the fourth time. 

“Please, oh god please let me cum!” 

You couldn’t help but cry out, knowing that time was ticking down and that you were rapidly approaching twenty minutes of the most delicious torture you had been through in awhile. Years of perfecting how to get yourself off quickly was both paying off and absolutely ruining you now. You had crafted a profile for this newcomer, and the more you imagined the closer it brought you to disobeying them. 

Male, mid to late 30s.  High profile job, most likely in a position of power.  Well respected, or at least demanded respect. A wonderful speaker, oh the things he could probably whisper in your ear. Protective. 

You were desperate to know if you were right. 

A minute later and with unfocused eyes you looked at the monitor and moaned in relief as you saw a comment come in from him. 

Commander: Come for me, beautiful. 

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, my Commander!” You chanted as you plunged your fingers into your dripping pussy and came with a violent shudder. The moan you let out was absolutely filthy, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. This man, someone who you had never interacted with before this night had caused you to come the hardest you had on a stream the first night he joined. You didn’t know what he looked like at all, could only imagine his voice, and you had followed his every demand without a thought. 

As you slowly came down you felt yourself wanting to sink bonelessly into your sheets. You couldn’t risk having your face on screen as you slumped over though so you weakly planted your elbows on the bed and leaned back, catching your breath as you let out soft whimpers as the adrenaline coursing through you slowed through your veins. 

You let out an uncharacteristically dazed laugh, almost embarrassed by how exhausted you were. 

Shifting so that you were laying on your side, head out of frame as it rested on a hand, you addressed the crowd. 

“Well, wasn’t that an unexpected turn of events? I haven’t cum like that in so long, I’m glad you were here to witness this.”

Your fans immediately rushed to compliment you, and your eyes lazily caught proclamations of “Sexy as always!” “Came so much” and the always popular “god I want to fuck you”. Smirking knowingly, you laughed a little at how they all thought you were referring to the group of them when you had meant that for one person in particular. 

The corner of your screen showed a continuous pouring of donations now, slowly coming to an end as you sat up and moved closer to your set up. 

“I have to go clean up now, I’m so sticky right now,” you sighed as you stretched, pushing your chest out to the camera as you got a few last reactions from the crowd. “Good night babes,” you said with your signature sign off wave before closing the chat room. 

Well, it’s better to say before kicking everyone out save for one individual. 

Erwin was taking deep breaths, willing himself to calm down from the high he had just crashed from. His abs were splattered with cum, some of having sprayed on his chest. Just how pent up had he been? He had told her to not cum figuring he could easily last twenty minutes but those had been some of the most difficult twenty minutes of his life. 

He wasn’t some nervous virgin, he was in great shape and had excellent stamina but this show had him testing that.

He was drawn out of his thoughts when Metis began to speak, voice not as high pitched as it had been before, a sleepy quality that he found immensely calming. 

“So, Commander. That was amazing, I mean it.”

He could tell she meant it, heard the earnestness in her voice that made him want to wrap his arms around her in his bed.

“I hope you had a good time?”

Metis seemed nervous and he wished she could see his rapidly shaking his head as he denied it. 

Commander: Not good, amazing.  Commander: You are spectacular. 

She laughed and he smiled at that, wondering what could come next. It took him a moment but he realized that it was only the two of them and he froze, guard immediately rising when he noticed. 

She coo’ed a little at the comment and laughed lightly, “Thank you, you were wonderful inspiration tonight.” Her hand flew out of frame and he heard a surprisingly loud yawn fall from her lips which made him chuckle lightly as he leaned into his pillows. “I do have to clean up though, and I’m definitely going to sleep well because of this, but I wanted to thank you. I hope you come back, Commander.”

Yes, he was most definitely going to come back. There was no doubt in his mind about that, pushing aside the lingering thought on facing Mike later in the week, he wanted to focus on her and only her for the reminder of the evening. 

Commander: Please don’t let me keep you then.  Commander: I should probably clean up myself too. 

He hesitated for a moment before sending a follow up comment. 

Commander: ;)

“Oh how cute,” he heard her hum, a soft hum coming from his chest as he listened to it.

Commander: You are the cute one. Stunning. Commander: But I’ll let you go now.  Commander: I will be back Metis. 

You smiled at that, lifting the hand not supporting you to give him a lazy wave. 

“See you soon,” you whispered, pulling the keyboard and mouse closer to yourself so you could end the stream. 

But right before you ended the stream a final exorbitant tip came in along with one last comment.

Commander: Don’t give up. Interviews are tough, but if you keep persevering you will be rewarded. Continue to fight for it. 

You let out a surprised gasp, your cheeks flushing as the viewer count dropped abruptly to “0”. 

Erwin rapidly logged himself off the stream, laptop quietly closed as his face flushed with nerves. What had come over him? He hadn’t done anything like this in years and while he thought he would feel shamed he felt more relaxed than anything. The final comment he gave her was something he would have told anyone he rationalized with himself, it wasn’t wrong to give someone encouragement. 

But why did that of all things feel like the most nerve wracking thing he had done all night?

Looking around his dark room he was made painfully aware that he was alone and the loneliness began to seep in. Before his mind started to race he let out a large yawn and looked down at his stomach, nose scrunching in disapproval as he stood up to go and clean himself. 

When his head hit the pillow at midnight he was overcome by a sudden exhaustion and leaned into it, eyes closing slowly and breath coming to a soft pace as he drifted off. 

It was the earliest he had gone to bed in recent memory. 

#attack on titan fanfic #erwin x reader #erwin x you #erwin smith x reader #erwin x y/n #modern au #office au #minors do not interact #mdni #18+