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#so then he finds hazel and explains it or whatever
hearts4juzi · 4 months
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That story BROKE ME.... I was sitting there reading wide eyed with my hand over my mouth bc the entire final third of that story was just gut punch after gut punch after gut punch after
Hi haha i finished it last night haha hi hahahahahhahaha...
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delirious-donna · 2 months
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A Shaky Arrangement [Part Three]
story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.
chapter summary: You've nowhere else to go, surely he wouldn't kick you out so easily? You are so very attractive after all...
pairings: Nanami Kento x female reader
warnings: sibling bickering, mentions of food, SFW
Part Two | Series Masterlist | Part Four
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Kento scowled.
He sat stiffly on the leather couch that occupied most of the living room space, watching as you took container after container out of a brown paper bag with a grease stain pooling at the bottom. The desire to march to the kitchen and find the surface spray and kitchen towel to wipe up any damage to his coffee table was rampant. But he didn’t. He sat still with a growing grimace.
“You think you could stop scowling at me?” you said from your spot on the floor, sitting cross-legged with your back to him. “I can feel your distaste crawling up my spine.”
“I am not scowling,” he lied mulishly.
“Yes, you are, but whatever. I did ask if you wanted to add anything to the order. You were the one to turn your nose up at Chinese takeout. I guess you’re used to the finer things in life, Mr Nanami.”
His mouth opened to respond, but he snapped it shut just as quickly. He would not get into a petty argument over his preference of cuisine. The sinking feeling of resignation reared its head once more. Could he honestly share his apartment with you for the next two weeks without you both at each other’s throats?
“Remind me again why am I even considering hosting you?” He half hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and sat forward in his seat until his elbows were braced upon his knees.
You paused. The chopsticks you were using to pile rice onto an expensive-looking plate froze in midair. At last, you twisted your neck to look around, adopting a sheepish expression.
He was right, as annoying as that fact might be.
This was his home, and he had every right to send you on your merry way, whether you had somewhere to stay or not–the latter being the case. You were sharply reminded of his stricken features when you explained your plight. How he had grabbed up the glass which you had just finished draining of whatever potent amber liquor he preferred and went looking for a refill. A large one. A large one which he swallowed in one long gulp.
Kento had the same eyes as his sister, Karin. They were rich hazel, and they had the strange ability to lighten or darken depending on their mood. They crackled like popping logs in a roaring hearth when joyful or amused and darkened to the deepest mahogany when angered or upset. This you noticed as he questioned you over and over, his fingers running ruefully through his hair and those eyes that followed your every nervous jerk or twitch became pits of darkness.
“Sorry,” you said quietly. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you into sharing something with me? I ordered way too much, there will be leftovers for days if you don’t.” It was your version of a peace offering. Anything to prevent him from backtracking on the shaky agreement you had reached.
Kento’s nose wrinkled in distaste at the thought of leftovers crowding his fridge and the smells that might permeate into the fresh produce or homemade meals that were labelled and waiting to be eaten.
With a long sigh, he lowered himself to the floor and sat by your left elbow. “Fine. It is probably wise for me to put something other than alcohol in my stomach anyway. Serve yourself what you want and I’ll have what is left.”
“Aye, captain!”
“Don’t do that,” he scolded, rolling his eyes at your salute, but there was no heat in the words. If anything, he was amused and you smiled knowingly to yourself as you began to dig into the meal.
He must be truly mad to be entertaining this prospect, but there was something he liked about you, even if he tried his best to deny it. You pushed back against him. It was refreshing. Kento enjoyed your quick wit and the ease with which you conversed with him. Sure, it was often at his expense but it was enjoyable in a way it never had been before.
As the youngest ever senior partner at work, he commanded respect from all. The junior partners and even those on the governing board often bowed their heads in reverence when in his presence. Yet it wasn’t so long ago that he had been a fresh-faced college graduate eager to reach his current lofty heights and he wondered absently if you possessed the same drive and determination. You certainly weren’t easily intimidated.
“Do you have a girlfriend, Mr Nanami?”
So lost in thought, Kento almost missed your question. It took him a moment to process and when it finally hit home, he nearly choked on his bite of peking duck.
“Excuse me?” he spluttered, banging a fist on his chest to clear the blockage in his throat.
Your cheeks warmed in amusement, impishly shrugging whilst you toyed with the remnants on your plate. It had been on your mind for a little while now. Your host was handsome—a thought you kept coming back to no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.
“I said, do you have a girlfriend?” you repeated.
“I don’t see what business that is of yours.”
He busied himself with rolling back the sleeves of his pristine white button up. Your lips quirked before you blew out a puff of air.
“Come on. It’s a simple question, no? Since you’ve agreed to give me a place to stay, surely I should know if I might run into someone else whilst I’m here.”
You had a point, and that bugged him. He was about to answer when you went on, nudging your elbow into his side and he caught a whiff of his body wash on your skin.
“Boyfriend then?” You baited him, though there would be no shame in it if he were more inclined towards his own sex. Other than perhaps the briefest disappointment. No! Shut that down now, you thought to yourself.
“Neither. If you must know.” He levelled an unimpressed stare in your direction and wiped his hands on a napkin.
How annoying the flare of hope that illuminated in your chest upon hearing his answer was. It had no place here, and you did your best to flatten your features into neutrality. You failed.
“I do, however, have a cleaner that visits each morning for a few hours to keep the place how I like it. I will alert Mrs McGarden that I have a guest so that she doesn’t enter your room without consent.” He nodded his head as if that was the end of the matter, trying and failing not to notice how you chewed your lip as if you were deep in thought. Cute.
“Speaking of rooms…” you trailed off as the first wave of tiredness hit you square in the face. It was early by your standards but the day had been filled with ups and downs like nothing you’d experienced before. “Where will I be sleeping?”
It was an innocent enough question, or you had meant it that way, but the lull that Kento left hanging over you both felt thick with something tangible but unknown. Right now your suitcase was still spread open wide on what you now knew to be his bed and you surely wouldn’t be sleeping there.
Before he could answer, his phone rang from the kitchen island, shrill and loud. “Excuse me a moment,” he said, hurriedly moving for the device and slipping down the hallway until he was out of sight.
“I can explain! Don’t yell.” The familiar voice said the second the phone was to his ear. Karin had finally braved his wrath and called back.
“I’ll give you two minutes.”
“Kento! I am not one of your underlings. Not that it matters, shut up. What was I saying?” Karin hissed through the phone and even without seeing her he knew that she was pushing hair out of her face as she always did when she was flustered or annoyed.
He sighed and silently counted to three. “Two. Minutes. Explain.”
“You’re meant to be out of the country, why aren’t you? I didn’t think you’d ever find out,” she hurried on, not waiting for an answer. Kento had long since known when not to interrupt his sister in full flow. “Mrs McGarden assured me that she would keep silent and I was only trying to help out a friend. She tried to refuse my offer. Said she’d find a couch or two to sleep on instead, can you imagine? You haven’t… kicked her out, have you?”
“I was firmly coerced into taking a vacation instead of attending the conference hence my presence. It seems I need to have words with Mrs McGarden as to where her loyalties lie, and no, I have not kicked your friend out,” he answered the questions in the order they were given, turning on the spot in his bedroom. “Though I have been sorely tempted,” he lied.
Karin audibly harrumphed. “Don’t lie, Kento, it’s not a good trait.”
“Who says I’m lying?”
“Oh, whatever. I don’t have time for your little temper tantrum. Y’know… I think she might be a good influence on you, relax you a little. You’re on vacation so maybe spend some time with your guest? She is very dear to me and I’ve got a lot of explaining to do since I never mentioned you to her.”
Kento could hear the genuine worry in her voice and it cooled some of the fires of his anger. His shoulders slumped and half-heartedly he agreed, even if he didn’t have any intention to do as Karin suggested. He would keep to himself and hope that you did the same.
He returned to the living room but found it empty. Glancing to the side he found you in the kitchen washing up the plates and humming. For a moment he simply stood and watched. Considering he had only just met you, he didn’t mind seeing you in his space and the words of his sister echoed in his mind.
“You didn’t need to do that,” he stated, finally making his presence known once more.
Smiling, you shrugged him off. “It was the least I could do, don’t worry about it.”
“Uh, Karin sends her apologies for the mixup. She assures me that she will make it up to you and explain everything when you see her next. Shall we pick a room for you now?”
Your chin jutted out, a wrinkle forming between your eyebrows at the mention of his sister. Kento could tell that Karin was going to be in for hell, and rightly so, when you reunited.
“Yes please, I’m pretty tired after… well, you know,” you stammered with an awkward laugh.
He did indeed know, though he would rather forget. Instead, he held out his arm for you to step ahead of him and followed you discreetly towards the two bedrooms that you could choose from.
The first was on the right and nearest to the living space, this was the room that Karin occupied when she visited and her mark was firmly stamped upon the interior. Kento watched from just outside the doorway as you tried and failed not to wince at the baby blue walls and the mountains of overstuffed pillows piled atop a cream bedspread with lace and frills.
In the corner stood her old dollhouse, untouched and in pristine condition thanks to a certain cleaner with whom he still needed to have several words with. You froze before it, curiosity lighting in your eyes and slowly you bent to inspect through the windows where the tiny families resided.
Before he could speak, you whirled around and brushed past with a soft apology for coming so close to him. Again, he could smell his body wash on you and he liked it even more this time.
“I don’t think this room will do,” you mused with downcast eyes.
“Not fond of dolls?” he guessed in what was more meant to be a joke but your guilty expression told him he had hit the nail on the head.
“There is another room, but… it’s next to my own. I hope you won’t mind?” Kento stalked forward and tilted his head in the direction of the room next to his.
You trotted after him and away from the prying eyes of the dolls in their fancy house, vowing silently not to enter that room again. You reached for him, anxious fingers clinging to the shirt encasing his bicep and tugging like a frightened child might do. It was his turn to freeze, his stare fixed on where you held him until he found your eyes and questioned the gesture without a word.
“You won’t tell her, will you? I just…” You shook your head and feigned a smile, you were being silly after all. “Nightmares as a child, that’s all.”
“My lips are sealed.” He smiled kindly until your hand fell away. “Now, come inside and see if this will do.”
He didn’t know what he’d do if it wasn’t, although he didn’t expect you were an overly demanding house guest even with the little he knew about you. He wasn’t above giving you his bed if it were necessary but it would be a last resort.
This room was decorated in soft pastel shades that were far less bright than the blue of Karin’s. The bed was turned down with what appeared to be an identical grey duvet to the one in the master bedroom.
There was a small vanity set opposite the window and a writing desk in the far corner. Everything was neutral in here, wiped clean as if it had never been occupied and it made you feel safe and warm.
“It’s perfect.”
Sitting on the corner of the bed, you glanced at Kento who stood respectfully in the door. He wasn’t looking at you, instead his eyes were wandering as if he were checking everything was clean enough. His frame filled the doorway, shoulders broad and imposing. Except you didn’t find him imposing, and that was the problem.
He must be at least five years older than you, not that you cared, you were a young woman not a teenager. You were reminded of how long you had gone without a boyfriend or even a lover. One night stands and casual situationships were never your thing so it had been some time since you had last felt an attraction like you did now.
This whole day felt like a fever dream.
You needed to rein in your train of thoughts but it was hard when Kento took a step deeper inside and the air seemed suddenly thick like syrup. His hands were deep in his pockets and finally he blew out a breath, making it easier for you to breathe too.
“If you’re sure. I’ll go grab your suitcase and bag for you,” he offered quietly.
It had to be your imagination but it seemed like he was struggling as much as you were. Although likely for a different reason. You were an unexpected guest and he very much seemed the type of person who was set in routine. You nodded your thanks and let him slip away.
“He is your best friend’s brother, get your act together woman! Stop lusting over him,” you scolded yourself in a hushed whisper.
It was going to be a long two weeks, that was for sure.
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
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It starts in Eddie's second senior year, close to the beginning of the semester. Eddie's in trig (again). He's good at math, but Mundy fucking sucks, always giving Eddie shit for breathing, or his shoes squeaking on the linoleum, or whatever, and he ends up with detention most days. So, he hardly ever shows and can't be bothered to do the homework, even though he knows the answers more often than not.
On this particular day, Mundy is in a bad mood, on Eddie's case way more than normal. In the heat of frustration, Eddie scrawls, "I fucking hate this class" on a scrap of notebook paper, and for reasons he can't begin to explain, leaves it folded on the window ledge. He doesn't think anyone will answer; fully expects the paper to be gone come morning with maybe another detention slip under his belt to show for it. He's a little flabbergasted, the next day, when the note is still there, and loses his mind a little when he sees the words "tell me about it" underneath his first message. He doesn't recognize the handwriting, sloping and a little looped, and for most of the class period, he's too bemused to respond. Right before the final bell rings he scrawls, "trig. You?" He leaves the paper on the ledge again. "Algebra 2 :(" is the response.
They keep it up, just a few words at first, before Eddie accidentally doodles on the page, and the other guy scribbles a hasty formula, the math spectacularly wrong. There's a little arrow leading to the words, "this shit sucks." Eddie re-writes the formula with the correct math, leaving careful notations of how and why. The next day he sees, "Shit, dude, I totally get this now. Mundy should retire and let you take over." Which pleases Eddie down to his core.
The messages get longer, nothing super personal, but complaints about life, math help, Eddie's silly little doodles, bad jokes, the slightly lewd drawings typical of teen boys. Eddie's never had a better attendance record in his life, but there are some days where his notes are left unopened. Most remarkably a couple week period before Thanksgiving, where he goes unanswered for so long he figures whatever thing they had going is done. But after the holiday, the notes start up again, with no acknowledgement they ever stopped. Eddie doesn't bother questioning it.
They keep it up almost all year, and they're definitely friends, even though they're totally anonymous. And that wouldn't have changed, except it's the day before spring break and Eddie's vibrating out of his skin with anticipation of the time off, so he forgets his dnd notebook in Mundy's class. He makes it all the way to Click's before he realizes, then sprints back across the school. He crashes through Mundy's door, tripping a little over his own feet.
"Sorry," he pants. "I just left--" he looks over to his desk, far corner right by the window, and then forgets every word he's ever known because Steve Harrington Steve Harrington King Steve, stares right back at him. And he just. He stops and fucking laughs, because all this time--this whole goddamn year--it's been Harrington he exchanged notes with. And sure, the jock's star has fallen in the last few months, with the breakup with Nancy and all that shit with Hargrove, but it's still Steve Harrington. With his big house and his fancy car and his girls. It's pretty Steve Harrington, the focus of Eddie's most hopeless daydreams.
He has a few seconds to see Harrington's hazel eyes go wide, before Eddie spins on his heel and makes a hasty exit. He absolutely doesn't spend the break thinking about the notes, matching what Harrington wrote with the gossip Eddie heard on him from the past few months.
Once break ends, he doesn't bother going to Mundy's class at all.
The Friday of the first week back, Eddie walks out to his van, only to find King Steve leaning up against it. He's doing that obnoxious thing where he has one leg bent, foot resting against the side panel, arms crossed over his chest, stupid hair falling in glorious cascades around his face. It's ridiculously, unfairly attractive.
"What do you want?" Eddie asks. He opens his front door without fully looking at Steve.
"Can we talk?"
Eddie snorts, "what could you and I possibly have to talk about."
Steve narrows his eyes. It's so bitchy and so fucking cute it makes Eddie queasy. "You know what."
"Enlighten me, Harrington."
"C'mon, man, the notes!"
"What about them?
"Don't be stupid, Munson, you know what. Why'd you stop?"
Eddie pulls a pack of camels and his lighter out of his jacket pocket. "Lost its appeal once I knew who was on the other side. Surprised you even want to keep it up now that you know you've been writing to the freak."
He pointedly ignores the little jolt Harrington gives at that, like the words hurt. Which is pretty rich from Steve Harrington, former #1 bully of Hawkins High.
"I've always known it was you," he says.
"You don't--wait what?"
I've known since, like, the first week, Munson."
"How??"
"What do you mean 'how,' dude, you're always drawing little pentagrams and d20's. Writing the word "Slayer" over and over. Who else would it be?"
And he can't even deal with the fact that Harrington knows what a d20 is (what the fuck) with everything else the other boy just said.
"I gotta go," is his only response. He ducks into his van, slamming the door basically in Harrington's face, before peeling out of the parking lot.
✏️✏️✏️✏️
It's the last day of school. Eddie's failed again. His grades, which weren't great to begin with, took a sharp nosedive after spring break, and he just can't wait to be done with this place for a few months. Harrington hasn't spoken to him again, and Eddie tries his hardest to ignore the other boy (aside from seeing him hanging out with Robin Buckley, a junior and a band geek, besides, and he forcibly has to remind himself that he doesn't care what Harrington does).
He slouches into his last math class of the year, slumping over in his seat. He rests his head on his desk, eyes blankly staring out the window as Mundy talks about what a joy most of them were to have in class. His eyes are unfocused, he contemplates a nap, and then he sees it. The tightly folded piece of paper resting on the window ledge.
Eddie almost doesn't take it. He almost ignores it, but he physically can't stop himself for reaching for it, unfolding it, staring at Harrington's now familiar handwriting.
Hey man, I'm pretty sure I fucked things up with us, and I owe you an apology. I've always known who you were, but you had no idea I was me. Buckley helped me see how that maybe freaked you out a little. I know I used to be a piece of shit. But I'm better--or I'm trying to be. And I'm so fucking sorry for the shit I did to you before and the things I didn't bother to stop. You don't owe me forgiveness, but you should know that I regret all of it. I liked passing notes with you. You made me laugh, and I don't know. It was nice to think someone liked me for reasons other than that I'm Steve Harrington, or whatever. I'd really like it if we could be friends. I get if you can't do that or don't want to.
Whatever the note actually ended with is scribbled out in pen so thick Eddie can't make it out.
All day he thinks about the note, the apology, all of it. Eddie thinks, if he's smart, he won't forgive Harrington. That he knows better than to trust him. But Eddie's never actually been that smart in this way, so he's not totally surprised to find himself walking to Steve's car after the last bell rings.
This time, Eddie's the one with his foot resting on the side panel of Steve's BMW, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't have to wait long before Harrington makes his way to the car, chestnut hair dancing in the breeze, biceps on display in a short-sleeve polo. A little smile dances across his lips when he spots Eddie.
"So, you gonna tell me how you know what a d20 is, Harrington, or do I have to guess?" Eddie offers the other boy a cigarette.
"Babysitting?
"Babys--Are you serious??" Eddie splutters. Steve Harrington babysits. Steve Harrington babysits little dnd playing nerds. Steve Harrington wants to be his friend.
A full grin spreads across Steve's perfect face and Eddie is absolutely, 100%, fucked.
(Part 2)
(Steddie Notes is now posted in full on ao3!)
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✧˖°. TWO PARALLEL LINES - iii
content: howdy yall here is the final part for today!! hope you enjoyed this roller coaster and you are NOT ready for what comes next!! will the reader cut a bitch??? will leo ever realize what's going on??? tune in next time to find out!!
"hazy-girl, do you think leo wants the normal hot cheetos or the lime ones?? hes always changing what his favorite is!" you asked hazel with a laugh while you stood in the store, arms crossed as you took in the aisle of chips before you. hazel was thinking it over while she grabbed the bag of barbeque chips frank asked her to get.
"i dunno. call him, he gets pissy if you get him the wrong thing. you'll never live it down," she replied and you hummed in agreement, digging into your pocket and pulling your phone out. the moment you unlocked it, the screen flashed black and stayed that way.
"shit. mines dead. can i use yours?" you asked, looking at hazel with puppy dog eyes. the girl rolled her eyes before passing over her phone, the polaroid of her and frank in the case of the phone proudly on display. you had the fading thought of whether or not leo would do that, trying desperately to fight off the blush that was rising to your cheeks. you easily called leo up, not even needing to use his contact, as his number was one of the few you had memorized. you rocked the the balls of your feet, biting your lip as it rang once, then twice, and then he finally picked up. you smiled as you heard him breathing on the other end of the phone.
"hey, leo, it's yn and i was just-"
"who is this?" a female voice asked, one you knew too well. you instantly stopped talking and your smile slipped from you face. your hands started shaking and you couldn't tell if it was from rage or just complete heartbreak.
"helloooooooo? who is this? look, whoever you are, leo's got a girlfriend so, like, back off. homewreaker," the girl scoffed into the phone before promptly hanging up. you couldn't seem to pull the phone from your ear, your lip wobbling but you were determined to not cry in this grocery store.
"yn, babe, what's up? are you- woah, what's wrong?? what'd he say??" hazel questioned, instantly scooping you into her arms. and you broke down in the middle of the grocery store you were determined to not cry in. you barely managed to explain to hazel what happened in the short time you were on the phone and you started crying at the pained look she gave you.
"im so sorry, yn. gods, boys are so stupid," she grumbled and you couldn't help but laugh the smallest bit, pulling but from the girl as you wiped away your tears with your sleeves.
"i guess him saying 'no' wasn't the worst thing that could've happen. this is pretty sucky," you mentioned, sharing a look with hazel before laughing.
"this is worse than sucky. this is shitty," hazel corrected with a nod of her head, which made you laugh harder, and you were grateful for her being able to take your mind off it slightly.
"oooo im gonna tell everyone your cussing," you joked, poking at her side.
"whatever. cmon, let's go get some ice cream. screw movie night with them, we're gonna have a girl's night. ill text pipes and annie."
and you followed, a tiny smile on your lips, as you were grateful to have these girls in your corner.
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✶⋆.˚ taglist: @ssparksflyy @imasimpdealwithit @pro-oddity @aezuria @literallyimthenerdemoji @sunshine-of-ur-life @brodieland @ivyy-covered-walls @annybah @aryxchse @riordanness @stargirl-exe @shimas-pjo-addiction @shimas-things12 @butterandhoneytoast @pumpkinbxtch
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obsidianstrawberrymilk · 10 months
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A short list of things I would have changed in HoO
It takes place ten ish years after the end of PJO. Percy and Annabeth aren’t a part of the seven but instead appear as cool older mentors to help out the Lost Hero trio. They both have careers and live in New York and go to Sally’s house for dinner every weekend.
Caleo isn’t a thing. In fact, let’s not even mention Calypso. At most we mention she was freed after the last war as idk proof demigods have some power or something.
More than 1 Asian character. Give this one ADHD and dyslexia bc shocker Asian kids can be disabled as well.
For that matter a properly disabled character. I have a deaf OC I would use if I rewrote the series.
Leo is aroace. His arc is about learning that his self worth doesn’t have to be tied to the people around him and his friends love and care about him and he doesn’t need romance to be complete. His flirting is overcompensation bc he doesn’t feel romantic or sexual attraction and is afraid he’ll be alone forever.
Drew and Piper become friends. Drew’s mean girl bullshit is outdated and boring and it would have been a lot cooler to see her icy exterior thaw and her help Piper with her charmspeck (explaining how Piper learned how to use it to begin with) and take on an older sister role
Neither Leo nor Piper become head councilors to their cabins because that’s dumb
Keep the chapter title style from PJO. It was so fun and one of the highlights of the series for me. The relatable nature of PJO in general was kinda lost in HoO and it’s a shame bc there was such a variety of characters for people to identify with there.
Give Reyna a girlfriend or at least a homoerotic friendship that can become an actual relationship in the next series or something
Frank is 14 and he and Hazel aren’t dating, they just have mutual baby crushes on one another.
For that matter what the fuck was ‘Frank is magically not fat due to Mars’s blessing’ bullshit? Frank is a fat character who stays fat but learns to be confident in himself and his body type.
Stop The Adultification of Hazel 2k23. Hazel is 13, she’s the youngest member of the seven and despite her trauma I think that should be obvious. I think emphasizing her relationship with Nico could be fun here - he’s in his 20s so him taking a more ‘that older sibling who toes the line between parent and sibling’ role here could be fun.
Also, I don’t want Hazel to have Hecate’s blessing or whatever. Between her being a magical horsegirl and the daughter of Pluto there’s already a lot of room to expand on her powers that was never used - I think doing more with her cursed jewels and metals powers and her learning the other aspects of her powers, like Shadow Travel, would be fun.
Instead I think having a daughter of Hecate as a part of the Seven would be cool, because we could still have a witchy character with mist manipulation and magic powers.
Give Jason an actual personality, please. Bro’s been a child solider practically since age 2 and has spent his whole life with the weight of other teenagers’ lives on his shoulders as praetor - give him perfectionism issues and anxiety. We’re told that he’s spent his whole life helping others compromise instead of being his own person - show that. Let his arc end with him deciding to try and live a mortal life and find out who he is beyond being a war general.
Show us that Octavian’s a piece of shit, don’t just tell us.
Leo and Piper are the ones who fall into Tartarus. Nothing romantic ever happens but we get heavy emphasis on their friendship and we get to see their grief over Leo’s mom and Piper’s grandfather respectively
Piper’s grandfather has died a few months ago and she cut her hair herself when her dad didn’t want to let her due to that (correct me if I’m wrong but it’s a tradition in Cherokee culture to cut your hair when a loved one dies, correct?), which is why it’s all uneven. A lot of her insecurities stem from going from growing up in rural Oklaholma (not in a reservation bc there aren’t any there) without much money to suddenly being catapulted into a millionaire Hollywood lifestyle and having everyone criticize everything about her and be really racist, all while her Dad drew farther away from both her and her grandfather. Her arc would be reconnecting with both her culture and Dad and learning to find who she is and her self worth again.
They defeat Gaea in a way that isn’t so anticlimactic and fucking stupid
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florence-end · 9 months
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Wake Up Call
Azriel x reader
Request: Could you write a story where reader has a nightmare and Azriel hears her screaming for him then the mating bond snaps for him.
Summary: You have been having nightmares every night since the battle against Hybern, and more often than not you wake up having winnowed to Azriel’s door. You don’t know why your subconscious always brings you here, until one night you cross the threshold and wake up to hazel eyes looking back at you.
Warnings: slightly graphic description of battlefields, an almost-panic attack
You woke up just in time to see the familiar surroundings of your bedroom disappear into darkness, and a large oak door appear before you. Luckily you were just about conscious enough to avoid slamming into it although your feet landed with quite a considerable thud. The sounds, sights and smells of battle faded away with every second you took to gather yourself and remember that it was all a dream but your heart continued to race beneath your ribs, sweat gathering on your brow. Because it had all been very real and you knew the memories would haunt you for a long time.
On the other side of the door, Azriel stood as still and quiet a statue, not even allowing his shadows to ebb and flow as they usually did. He wasn’t sure why you winnowed to the hallway outside his bedroom more nights than not, but the first time, when he had thrown open the door in alarm due to the scent of your fear, you had been so utterly mortified that he didn’t want to embarrass you by discovering you again. He’d spoken to Rhys who explained you struggled with nightmares more vivid than most of your found family, but couldn’t offer an explanation for why you always appeared at Azriel’s door.
You weren’t sure yourself why your subconscious mind brought you here before you could fully pull yourself out of your night terrors but you were grateful every time that Azriel didn’t seem to know you were there after your pathetic half mumbled excuses the first time.
As your heart rate slowed and you got a hold on your powers, you winnowed back to your bedroom for a bath. Azriel heard you leave and went back to bed, feeling just as guilty as every night before.
Twenty four hours later, the nightmare returned but something was different.
The war is raging on. Hybern’s forces are decimating Prythian’s armies. Fallen allies are lying all around you and you can’t move fast enough to help them all. The Illyrian legions swarm the skies overhead.
You hear Nesta screaming for Cassian who lands next to her just before an explosion of power is unleashed from behind Hybern’s line, obliterating every winged warrior above the battle ground. You thank whatever gods are listening that Azriel is safely at the camp as you watch in horror. It’s only then that you see the blue siphons amid the falling bodies.
No, it can’t be him.
You run towards where the siphons should have landed, getting more and more bloody as you wade through the field. Once you get there, you know immediately. That familiar dark hair and tan skin shrouded by swirling shadows.
Those glassy unseeing hazel eyes.
You woke with a gasp and find yourself looking into those same eyes, now alight with panic and concern.
“Don’t be scared, you’ve winnowed to my bedroom. You’re safe here and it was just a dream,” Azriel soothed, his voice soft and deep.
Instead of finding yourself in the hallway, he was right. You had winnowed straight into the shadowsinger’s bedroom and found yourself sprawled on the luxurious carpet as he hovered above you.
You immediately averted your eyes as you sat up, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. It must have happened while I was asleep, I know you like your privacy and would never want to barge in like this. You were probably sleeping when I just appeared. Gods this is so embarrassing, I’m going to go,” you rambled as you tried to gain enough control of your shaky legs to get to your feet.
“Woah sweetheart, it’s okay just take a second. I’m not upset, I was actually waiting for you,” Azriel admitted as he rested his hands gently on your shoulders to keep you in place.
“What?”
“Usually I just wait by the door for your scent to go back to normal and then you return to your room but it’s nice to see you’re alright with my own two eyes this time,” he explained, moving to sit down across from you.
You were so mortified by this point that you didn’t think you’d ever be able to look him in the eye again. Your breathing was still too shallow and you could feel a panic attack rising as the adrenaline from your nightmare refused to leave your system.
“I promise everything is fine but you need to take some deep breaths, sweetheart. Can you look at me please?” Azriel pleaded.
You forced yourself to look up into his wildly handsome face, and as your eyes met, it was like everything stopped.
Your heart rate slowed, your breathing calmed, your racing thoughts ceased to exist. The only thing you could think, feel, remember in that moment was the warm golden thread that buzzed to life, irrevocably connecting your soul to the male in front of you for the rest of time.
“My mate,” Azriel whispered, his hand pressed to the centre of his chest.
Neither of you spoke for some time after that, adjusting to the flood of emotions running up and down the bond. You realised at one point that you were holding hands with no recollection of when that happened but you knew that Azriel’s skin against yours felt more right than any touch you had felt in all your life.
Eventually you let out a yawn, and despite your attempts to stifle it, your newfound mate couldn’t stand the thought of you being in any way uncomfortable. So he scooped you up and placed you on his ginormous bed. Crawling over you to his side before pulling you into his chest, he pressed his lips to the crown of your head. “Everything is going to be okay now,” he whispered into your hair. “I’m going to look after you.”
You burrowed further into his warm body, trusting his words entirely.
“No more nighttime winnowing though, if I find you outside Cassian’s door I might get jealous.”
“Guess I’ll just have to sleep here then so you’ll know if I disappear,” you joked through another yawn.
“You won’t find me complaining,” he whispered back.
The last thing you feel before drifting into a restful sleep is a dark wing draping across your body.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I don’t know if I like the writing in this one but I hope it’s kinda what you had in mind! Thank you for your request🫶
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crxss01 · 10 months
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— Heartache
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pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ jason grace x reader
summary ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ jason and you were dating before he was taken by hera, when he comes back he chooses piper over you leaving you heartbroken.
warnings ✧˖ ° angst, hurt/no comfort, breaking up (is not even stated, he just dated someone else), curse words, jason is kind of an asshole, i love him but i hate him here, piper was clueless about your existence, no piper bashing.
m. list, main m.list.
a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i found this request so interesting and i really enjoyed (even though it hurt) writing this idea for you!
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you stood stunned, looking at your boyfriend as he stood there having just climb out of the greek ship. you were too shocked to move towards him, almost a year ago you had started dating and then a couple of months ago he completely disappeared but that time he was missing only made your feelings for him grow.
you had grown desperate to find him and when you found out that he had been sent to camp half-blood you had felt relieved because that meant that there was a chance he was still alive and that you would be able to see him again.
you finally got over your surprised and when you took one step to run towards him like the blonde had done for percy, you didn’t know how you hadn’t notice the hand that jason was holding or the way he was looking at you with guilty eyes.
those same eyes that used to look exactly like that when he did something that you didn’t like, for example one time he made your entire cohort have cleaning duty for a week for something only one of you guys did. it pissed you off extremely that all of your cohort had to pay for somebody’s mistake, now that look was there and you didn’t like it one bit.
this couldn’t be happening.
during the feast you watched their interactions quietly and you weren’t dumb so you connected the dots quickly, hazel kept giving you glances full of pity and reyna glanced at you once in a while.
when others started going their separate ways, (ella with tyson, octavian leaving with leo and others just doing whatever.) you finally decided to speak up when jason had the audacity to ask reyna if he could show the girl, piper, around.
“jason, i think that we have something to discuss before you do that. don’t you think?” you raised an eyebrow, using all your strength to pray to the gods that you don’t start to cry right then and there.
“umm, sure..” he appeared uncomfortable, and piper looked confused.
“i’m his girlfriend,” you told her. “or ex? i don’t know, last time i saw him i was pretty sure we were even in love with each other.” you said the word like it physically hurt to say, and it did because he even told you that he loved you so what was this shit he was pulling now.
“hey,” jason said before you can continue saying more stuff. “we’ll talk, you don’t have to put this onto her. she didn’t know.”
you bit the inside of your cheek, trying to stop yourself from crying and nodded, turning and walking away from the group expecting him to follow you which he did but not before telling her that he will explain everything later. the way he defended her hurt you so much, it was like you didn’t matter anymore.
you finally reached a place where you could have some privacy with him, it was actually the thinking tree. the spot where you and jason met, where he met up with you a couple of times before dating you, where he asked you out, where you had your first kiss with him, where you two said your first i love you and where you last saw each other until now.
you were the one to name the tree and you remember jason’s sweet laugh when you told him the name, he found it interesting that you liked to come under a tree so that you would be able to think with nothing else in mind and then go and give it a name.
“you remember this?” you asked him, nodding at the tree.
“yeah…” he looked at it and you hoped he was getting deja vu.
“why are you dating her?” you asked him, straight to the point. “you are dating me, jason. that’s called cheating, something i never expected you to do.”
“listen, i didn’t mean to. it just happened.” jason explained. “i really like her, and i want to stay with her.”
“did you have your memories back at the time this feelings continued to grow?” you asked, still trying to keep your cool.
“yes,” he nodded. “but there was nothing i could do to stop it.”
“jason, i—” your voice broke, the tears started to spill out. “i w—waited for you, all this time…”
“i’m sorry, but i didn’t ask you to do that.” jason said, looking at you with pity which you hated. “i want to stay with her because she makes me happier than i have ever been, i’m sorry that this hurts you.”
“you want to stay with her?” you asked shocked, those words had cut deep.
“yes, and—”
a shrill sound pierced the air. lights flashed in the direction you two had come from.
“piper!” jason rushed in that direction without even glancing back at you.
that single word alone was enough to completely shatter your heart.
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ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!
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poisonedonyx · 3 months
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Azriel x F!Reader | "Apart"
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requests are open!!! i also seem to make every character i love a papi, how weird. tw: unedited, angst, cheating, child (4 month old) death, divorce, ooc Azriel(?) wc: 1.7k
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It was moments like this that made [YourName] wish her husband didn’t keep her and their daughter a secret, just so she could seek out assistance from friends- friends that had experience with children, but no, she remained in the cabin outside the city with a sobbing daughter in her arms. [YourName] rocked her baby girl, a soft ‘shhh’ escaping her lips trying to comfort her. [YourName] wanted to cry, not only was she shielded away for her safety but her husband was often doing missions for the High Lord and Lady of the court they call home. 
A soft ‘it’s okay’ came out of [YourName]’s mouth as she attempted to comfort her daughter once more. The crying little one was red in the face and coughing up a storm when she wasn’t sobbing her little beautiful hazel eyes. She wished her husband was home, but he was also off doing missions for the High Lord and Lady of their court- so she couldn’t just ask for Azriel to come home, he was busy.
That’s what she told herself. She didn’t know what her husband was doing without her around, was he truly working? Was he spending his free time with his found family just in case to throw them off from suspecting he had a wife and daughter? What was so wrong with having a wife and daughter? His found brother had a son and a wife, it wasn’t fair in her eyes to be shielded away. She was fine with it when it was just him and her, but now that it was him, her and their daughter Lynette. 
Lynette had finally gone quiet, sniffling to show she was still very much emotional. [YourName] had lived through her pregnancy basically alone in the cabin, but Azriel had returned in time for the birth, but soon after he was once more called back to Rhysand. [YourName] never faltered her High Lord or High Lady for summoning their spymaster for work. But it still stung deep down to know he valued work over her and their daughter. But that was another topic for another time. 
This spell of crying and coughing lasted about two more days before things started to fall silent. Eerily silent, [YourName] had grown used to her daughter’s coughing fits or cries for whatever she needed, but now that it was quiet she panicked. She immediately checked on her child and found her breathing in shallow breaths and she had gone even more pale than before. ‘Don’t go to them, it will raise alarms.’ Was what Azriel said when she asked if she could ever seek out her husband’s found family. But those words became distorted when [YourName] had no access to an on sight healer, no husband around, and absolutely no idea what was wrong with her daughter. Now crying, [YourName] shoved her arms through the armholes of her jacket, and covered her daughter up before hitting the streets of Velaris. 
She got looks, looks of judgment and looks of worry as she rushed through the streets and knocked on different townhouses to try and find Azriel in one of them. But nothing, it was slowly becoming later and Lynette was starting to shift in and out of sleep. It worried her. She was at the last townhouse and with a weak knock, [YourName] sobbed. She felt hopeless. 
She was a new mother with no help, and here she was seeking out the exact people her husband told her to stay away from when she fell pregnant. When the door finally opened to reveal a confused female. The female was slender and had golden brown hair, and to [YourName] she looked like a princess, while to the woman she must have seemed like a mess. “Azriel- I-Is he here?” [YourName] finally mustered out and the woman seemed hesitant to answer the question. “I.. I’m sorry, I’m [YourName], this is Lynette- I need help. I don’t even need to see him, I just need help.” [YourName] explained in a panic, her breaths becoming more rigid as panic started to set into her system. “I see, come, I’ll help.” The slender lady offered, opening the door more for [YourName] to enter the house. “I’m Feyre,” The golden brown haired female offered as she led [YourName] into a hallway of rooms and entered one empty one. “What’s happening?” Feyre asks, “Lynette, she- she’s been crying, coughing, she started not breathing properly.. I just- I don’t know what to do.” the distraught mother says gently, setting her daughter on the bed. Once on the bed, the baby sprawled out. Feyre looked over the baby before calling in a healer and that’s when the news was dropped onto [YourName]. 
Lynette didn’t have much longer. 
After the healer left, Feyre found [YourName] in the rocking chair near the window. She gently rocked her daughter, “How old?” Feyre asked, trying to just create a conversion “Four months..” [YourName] replied before a sob echoed into the room and she held her baby close. “God, and my husband barely knows her.” [YourName] whispered, not expecting Feyre to hear her. “Who is your husband?” Feyre asked, but she was afraid she knew the answer, all [YourName] had to do was look over and look back down at the baby in her arms. “It’s Azriel, isn’t it..?” Feyre asked, [YourName] simply nodded and for once in her life she felt mass amounts of disappointment in Azriel. “I’m so sorry.” Feyre said, for she knew the truth and it seemed as if [YourName] was oblivious to what was happening behind her back. Feyre didn’t want to be the one to break the news to her, but someone had to and before she could, there was a knock at the door. 
“Feyre? Rhysand asked to- woah! Random lady and child in the house.” Cassian said, already sensing the bad mood and trying to lift it. Feyre shook her head, “This is [YourName] and Lynette, they need to speak to Azriel.” She explained trying to get the female to her husband so she could at least break the news that their daughter was dying and there was absolutely nothing they could do- at least according to the healer. 
“Az? He’s with Elain right now, we all know what's going on.” Cassian chuckled, but Feyre’s face fell into disgust. Not just because Elain was his sister but because Azriel was actively cheating on his grieving wife. “No, Cassian, this is his wife and child, tell him it's urgent.” Feyre said dropping the wife-and-child bomb on Cassian. Cassian simply jutted out his face and gave a look of pure confusion. “I know, I know.” The High Lady said, shaking her head. [YourName] just had to sit there and listen, “He.. found someone else, didn’t he?” [YourName] asks Feyre and in return Feyre says nothing- which just confirms her suspicions. She felt sick, she felt weak, she just bit back the tears and gently drew her thumb against her daughter’s cheek, just trying to seek comfort. She couldn’t win this battle, she should have known once she fell pregnant that things were going to be different- she no longer could provide for him so he sought it out in another woman. Soon, Azriel had walked into the room and his hazel eyes widened in a panic. “[YourName]?” Azriel asked in shock, but before anything could be said. Either it be scolding or worry, [YourName] cut him off, “Lynette is dying, she’s dying and she hardly knows who her father is.” [YourName] announced. Azriel went silent “I’ve had to protect my family-” he said, trying to argue back but all [YourName] did was cry out of frustration. “Azriel, yes, they are your family but so is Lynette. If you truly, truly no longer saw me as a potential match- you should have asked for a divorce the day I announced I was pregnant.” [YourName] scoffed. 
“I’ve picked up on the hints, High Lady’s sister? Are.. Are you kidding me?” [YourName] asked “I don’t even fault her for it! She probably has no idea who I am, who Lynette is- because you’re not proud of what we created.” the female pushed on. “It’s not like that-” Azriel had began “Then what the hell is it like!?” [YourName] asked, shoving her husband aside and going to exit the room. Her daughter still cuddled up to her chest. 
Feyre, who had exited the room to give Azriel and [YourName] space to talk, watched from the living room with Rhysand. “I would have never thought in my years of living that Azriel would.. Could keep this information from us.” Rhysand said, hearing the door shut loudly signaling [YourName] had left the townhouse. “I need to talk to my sister.” Feyre mumbled, pushing off her husband and heading to find Elain. 
It wouldn’t even be a week later that little Lynette passed on and was laid to rest. Azriel had returned home and spent the last few days with Lynette, but nothing could make up for lost time. When the burial had come for the child, [YourName] dressed in black and watched as they lowered the baby-sized coffin into the ground while Azriel stood next to her. After throwing some dirt and flowers into the hole, [YourName] broke down crying when they finally finished. But not once did she lean on to Azriel for support. When the couple returned to the cabin Azriel spoke up, “Feyre and Rhysand asked about-” he began but would be cut off “I want a divorce.” [YourName] said with a coldness to her words. [YourName] didn���t even look in the direction of her soon-to-be ex. “What?” Azriel asked, he couldn’t lose her- not when they both were in mourning, not when Rhysand had dismissed him to properly grieve his daughter, not when they truly needed each other. “I. Want. A. Divorce.” [YourName] repeated, “Don’t you hear the words coming out my mouth? You messed up, I thought you were working but you were sleeping with another woman! You let me take care of our sick daughter alone because you wanted to sleep with someone else. Do you know how fucked that is, Azriel?!” the female said, shaking her head in disappointment. “I will be seeing a lawyer soon about it, and you will be getting papers in the mail, now go. Home.” [YourName] said simply. 
The bedroom door slammed and Azrie felt a pit in his stomach start to suffocate him. He had done this, he had messed up, he was the reason they had fallen apart.
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vcrooster · 1 year
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Midnight Rain
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PREQUEL TO AFTER HOURS
Smut
Paring: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw & Simpson! Reader.
Word count: 4K
Summary: Bradley is nice enough to buy you a drink on your birthday.
Warnings: pinv, car sex, public sex, smut, smut, smut.
Author’s note: this can be read as a stand alone but here his part 1 if you’re interested: After Hours
***
“Excuse me, could– Hey!” It’s not your first attempt in getting the bartender's attention. It’s embarrassing but not even leaning a little more on the bar to expose more of your cleavage is helping.
“Just a moment, sweet thing” He said, lifting a finger towards you, ignoring your order and going straight to the blonde that just got there a second ago.
“Prick” You said under your breath.
And Rooster notices everything from the other side of the bar. He couldn't help but to feel like an asshole when he was trying to see if he could get a glimpse of your ass under that little pink skirt of yours.
You soon turn your head when you feel a pair of eyes looking towards you. He’s handsome. Really fucking handsome and for the look on his face he looks like might be interested in buying you a drink.
“You need some help?” He figures if he already made eye contact he might as well offer to get you something, he didn’t want to seem like a creep.
“Is it that obvious?” You scrunch your nose with a little bit of embarrassment. You move towards his direction noticeably biting your lip to grab his whole attention.
“Just a little” And it seems to work by the way his eyes linger over your body. “For what it’s worth I really thought you almost got it there for a second.” He gives you an ironic smile.
You notice how sweet his smile is and how his hazel eyes lighten up when he does so. “What can I say, I tried my best”
“Yeah I saw that” You know what he means, and now you know exactly what he has been looking at. “Don’t you look too young to be in a place like this?”
“As a matter of fact” You showed him your ID, you had it ready in your hand to show the bartender. “I turned twenty one today.” You say it like you're proud of it. He reads your name on the card and it falls so nicely from his lips.
“Then it has to be my treat then” He offered. Bradley quickly noticed the curiosity in your eyes which made his lips quirk up slightly. You tell him what you want, it takes him no effort to get the bartender's attention “Get me a Sour Martini.”
“Right on.”
Even though he doesn’t offer you the seat next to him, you take it before he could even finish talking. He was about to do it, you just beat him to it. He doesn’t hide very well how his eyes take a look at your legs.
The words get lost in his throat when the drink arrives in just a minute. “Thanks man.”
“No problem.”
He slides it to you, meeting your fingers in the process in a way that’s totally intentional.
“And you're not going to tell me your name?” You try to make small conversation, well, find out the name of the guy that just bought you a drink seemed the right way to go so you could at least say ‘thank you.’
“It’s a secret” He looks at his beer giving you a smirk before taking a sip.
“I’m very discreet, y’know” You rest your head in the palm of your hand, trying to look more interested in whatever words come out of his mouth.
“It’s Rooster” You twitch your lips playfully with some hints of confusion.
“Rooster?” You think maybe you didn’t catch it quite right because of the conversations over lapping next to you. “Rooster?” You repeated. He nods his head leaning closer to you, licking his lips in the process. “Maybe I already had too much to drink.”
There is a chuckle coming from him looking at how confused you are. It’s cute. “It’s my call sign, I’m a fighter pilot” He explained.
“Really?” You sound more surprised than what you actually are, you don’t know what it is about him but it isn't so far-fetched the fact that he’s a pilot. “My father is in the Navy too. He’s on deployment right now” Maybe you overshared, but it’s not every day you’re able to talk to a hot Navy guy without having your dad watching over you shoulder like a hawk.
The expression on his face went a little confused trying to pace all of the information together.
Simpson, he remembers your last name on your ID. The only Simpson he knows in the Navy is Admiral Beau Simpson.
An admiral's daughter. He sure is fucked and the only thing he’s done so far is buy you a drink.
“Hence why are you at a bar” He didn't want to think about it a whole lot. Thinking about it’s not like he’s doing anything wrong, yet.
“Hence why I’m at the bar” you repeated. He has the most gorgeous smile you’ve seen. You reciprocate immediately feeling him loosen up.
“Your old man hard on you?” The way his eyes lock on you is making you feel like you’re melting. He’s not like the other pilots you’ve gotten the chance to see, it makes you think he’s not here for a long time.
“Not really” Come to think of it, your dad’s concern over you has always come from your constant bad choices. “He has a no pilots rule, though.”
“Hurtful, very hurtful” He sets his hand on his chest acting as if that was the most offensive thing he’s ever heard, stealing a laugh from you.
“Well, not the best reputation precedes you guys” He catches how you cross your legs giving him a little more to see. “You can’t blame the man.”
“You think that?” He raises his left eyebrow softly.
“Maybe” You answer with a bitter sweet tone. “He could be right”
“Why’s that?” He’s more invested in what you have to say due to the sudden change of your voice.
“Because when a guy tries to take a girl back to his place he usually starts off giving his actual name” You take a sip from your drink, he never breaks eye contact with you following every movement you make.
He’s captivated. Not really being able to figure out how Beau Simpson raised a daughter so unlike his strict persona, but then again he’s only judging by the front he got to see in a couple of training exercises with him. If it wasn’t for the last name he would’ve never put his money down for Beau.
He didn’t realize how long he’d let you hang until you spoke again.
“I see… he’s not interested” You twitch your mouth to the side in disappointment. Did he just buy you a drink out of pity? After checking you out? “Well, thank you for the drink anyway, Rooster” You emphasize his call sign just to turn around and walk back to your friends.
Oh but he is. He just doesn’t want to make it too obvious that he wants to take you home.
He doesn’t give it too much thought. He’s not the biggest fan of fucking a random stranger but you look so good in that little pink set that he doesn’t really care about anything.
“It’s Bradley” He didn’t want to rush it out as fast as he did. He honestly thought you weren’t going to turn around back to him anymore. “Bradley Bradshaw” He would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous that he blew the whole thing. “And he is interested.”
You don’t even want to hide the smile on your face. Maybe this is the best birthday gift you could have ever landed on.
You’re trying not to think about the repercussions of following this man in the rain towards his car.
It’s a nice gesture from him draping his Hawaiian shirt on your shoulders trying to keep you covered from the rain.
You had a couple of drinks, you wouldn’t say you're drunk, you know you’re going to remember every second of this night in the morning.
He looks like he’s struggling to find his car, almost not remembering he parked in the back of the parking lot. It seems like a long walk and the midnight rain isn’t going anywhere any time soon. You try not to think too much in how you just totally left your friends for the hottest guy in the room, but still a stranger nonetheless.
He acts like such a gentleman, opening the door for you and holding your hand to help you in. Your heart beats loudly against your chest in anticipation for what’s to come.
Maybe your fake ID only got you in one or two bars but adding up all of the frat parties you’d only had a very blurry couple of night stands. But this is so much different, he’s an older guy. The last thing you want is to seem like a prude.
“Fuck, it’s pouring” He puts the keys into the ignition letting the car warm up for a second. You’re nervous. The fidgeting with your fingers was going to be a little too obvious if you kept it up. “You alright?” His voice is so sweet you could die.
You’re looking at him as he's pushing his wet hair back, your heart races. You feel like you’d lost all the confidence you had back in the bar. You’re scared that if you don’t act now you’re going to be too overwhelmed later.
Before he could even speak again, you’re pulling him close to you, tugging him by the neck and rapidly joining your lips together with him. It takes him only a second to respond to your kiss, his hands find their way to the base of your skull. The harsh press of his lips made every single thought in your mind disappear just so you could only focus on him.
His tongue is gliding over your bottom lip looking for access that you give him right away. Your surprise by the way he’s already giving in to you.
As you feel the sync of his mouth against yours escalate he pulls away taking a second to look into your eyes. You notice the pink color from your lip gloss all over his lips, you giggle at how confused he looks. “What?” He said smiling.
“You got a little…” Your thumb brushes over them collecting the gloss on your finger, his eyes follow it so mesmerized by it.
Shit, shit, shit. That’s all it takes for him to be wrapped around your finger.
“That don’t bother me” He pulls you back in kissing you roughly, teeth clashing and his tounge fighting with yours, only separating to take some air.
He’s fast to push his seat all the way back to make space for you to straddle his lap. He pulls you by the waist immediately moving his hands roam all over your thighs.
Rooster sees you growing shy once you're settled on his lap. He thinks it’s endearing how you're blushing when you kissed him like that just a second before.
“Hey, look at me” His voice wasn’t as soft as before. Hand sliding over your jaw tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “That's better” He said with satisfaction.
Your hips circle down into his own. His fingers buried into your hip bones guide the pace. Your core rubbed perfectly against him as you felt him hardening through the fabric of his jeans.
His hands skim under your skirt soon making their way to your ass, bringing you closer to him. His lips feel soft and rough at the same time.
His mouth moved with yours almost immediately, both fighting for which one of you was in charge, it wasn’t long before you let him guide you exactly how he wanted you to. He pushed his tongue in and your head began to spin.
Your clit is throbbing with each movement he guides down as you feel yourself growing wet between your thighs. “How does it feel?” He asks with a raspy tone. You barely notice how his hands are riding up your skirt slowly, but then again everything feels too good to be noticing anything.
“So good” You whimper. His tongue glides slowly over your bottom lip before he starts to trail off to your neck, painting small red circles all the way to whatever skin is exposed from your chest.
You want to tell him not to leave marks on you but the words fall off of your month with a moan that’s been building up in the back of your throat.
You roll down again and his hips meet you halfway in smooth thrust. The way he moans his like music to your ears. The way he’s kissing you is getting hotter by the second, same way as he grows inside of his pants. “You’re so good for me baby, aren’t you?”
“Yes” You answer without even having a second thought. It comes out as a whine making his already hard cock twitch in his pants.
He smiles at the sight of you needing him. He loved how his name just slipped out of your mouth begging for more. Hands removing his own shirt off of your shoulders, he finds the zipper of the crop top just to soon reveal a low cut lacy bra.
You feel the heat rising to your face and the puddle of pleasure building up in your lower stomach. He lets you move down a couple of times before holding your hips steady, stalling your movements.
Soon enough his hand gets lost in between your thighs, rubbing you on top of your panties. “You’re so wet for me already.” He pulled the fabric aside letting two of his fingers inside while his thumb drew circles with pressure on your clit.
He feels lost in the way you’re moaning, how you're kissing down his jaw nibbling at his earlobe, returning the same little number he marked on you a minute ago.
The way he lets out a groan sends shivers down your spine. “You smell so sweet” He said so softly you almost didn’t catch it. His breath hits your skin and the tip of his nose keeps drawing its way up your neck until his month meets your again.
You felt so close to the edge your body started to react, hips followed the traces that his thumb was drawing over your clit. The sound of you moaning made his eyes look for yours in realization.
He had to remind himself where he was. Maybe the rain helped cover up the two silhouettes but he still figured that it was pretty obvious what was happening if someone stared long enough.
“Shit– Hold on” he pants over your lips taking just a second to catch his breath.
“What?– why?” You huff. His hands go up your sides, settling you on his lap. You kiss him desperately trying to get him going again, not really getting why he stopped in the first place.
You kiss down his jaw all the way to his earlobe. He moans softly and you’re loving how such simple actions are the ones that affect him the most.
You got him for a second, his hands sliding over the material covering your breast cupping them in his large hands.
Fuck it. His common sense was thrown out the window.
He wanted to drive you back home. He wanted no other but but yo fuck you in every surface of his apartment, maybe the plan wasn’t this one but he won’t oppose to it.
“Get in the back for me. I’m not done yet” He clarified.
You do exactly as he said. He catches a very nice view of you when you go over the center console, he’s quick to pass his hand over the curve ass, gaining a surprise moan from you.
He didn’t even feel the cold when he walked out of his car.
He looks through the wet window at how your blurry figure settles against the opposite door. He feels his jeans growing tighter at the image of ripping that pink skirt off your body already. “Fuck me.” He says under his breath.
The door swigs open. Bradley takes a moment to look at you. Your cheeks were flustered and your lips have a cherry plump to them. He’s seen many pretty girls before but not a single one he just couldn’t wait to sleep with. First time he’s ever fucked someone in his car.
You brush your thighs together to revive some of the tension that’s building up, feeling too shy to have your hand do it for you.
Once the door is closed he couldn’t decide what to do to you first. Your shoes come off first, his hands finally take care of your skirt. It’s slow, he makes sure that he takes his time feeling the skin of your thighs.
He kisses you hard, grabbing a hold of your waist easily and laying you down on the seat completely under him. Your leg wraps around him settling on his lower back. It leaves for you to meet the bulge in his jeans again.
He feels warm to the touch despite being covered by the cold rain. You break the kiss just to pull on his soaked shirt, taking it completely off him.
You knew whatever he had going on underneath was going to be good. His muscles were toned and exercised but not to exaggerate, they were smoothly marked across his whole body and his skin was soft and tanned by the California sun. He certainly would take anybody’s breath away.
You slid the palms of your hands down his torso until they met the waistband of his jeans, and you used it as leverage, feeling how the way he’s kissing you became more and more dizzying.
He likes how your lips feel pillowy over his, it makes him deepen the kiss even more, he’s so lost in it the only thing that took his attention off of it was you unbuckling his belt, which he helped out with right away.
It all feels so rushed. His jeans are pooling alongside your skirt and heels in the footwell. Next went your bra which he wouldn't of mind leaving on, it’s no secret that he’s always been a lingerie type of guy.
“I need to grab a condom” He says, separating from you. You’re debating whether to tell him that you're on birth control and trust the guy you just met at a bar on a Saturday night that was nice enough to buy you a drink, which at this point doesn’t really seem like a bad idea.
“It’s okay” You pant pulling him back to meet your lips. “I’m on the pill” His eyes fall into yours for a quick moment. He thinks about it but he’s far too gone to give it too much importance.
You pulled him in against your lips to kiss him feverishly, snapping him out of his thoughts. His tongue caresses yours leading to a soft mewl on his mouth.
His boxers are gone as soon as you tug at the waist band. He noticed how you’re staring, it goes straight to his ego. He tries to hide his smile, licking his lips focusing on the expression on your face. “So beautiful.” He moves a string of your hair to the back of your ear just so he could take a look at your features a little better.
You give him a smile that makes him completely melt. Your cheeks are flushed and he can’t help to think how sweet you are. “You ready sweet heart?” You nod.
He pays attention to your clit again to help you relax. His cock lines up with your entrance and he can already tell how tight you're going to feel.
It burns the first couple of seconds from the stretch of him pushing in. He’s taking it slow trying to ease the pain as much as possible for you. He places a tender kiss on your temple just to feel how his lips separate over your skin moaning in pleasure loving how you feel around him.
You squeeze onto his shoulders as you keep lowering yourself, feeling how his chest clashes with yours and his hot breath hits your ear, there’s a sigh leaving his mouth with the further you go down his length.
Bradley bites his bottom lip resting his forehead on your collarbone having a great view of your body’s coming together. “Oh god– You’re so perfect” He said with an airy voice.
You still. Rooster noticed some discomfort in your face once you took him all in. He’s mindful about it, you just turned twenty one, probably it’s for the best to let you guide the pace. His thumbs draw circles on your hip bones, kissing your skin tenderly just to comfort you.
You’re grabbing onto his shoulders to start your pace. He helps you move with his hand wrapped around your waist. It’s easy at first, he likes the slow burn of it, how his cock almost completely out and deep back in afterwards. “You’re so fucking tight.”
A breathless moan leaving your mouth. Your pace picks up. He’s hitting just the right spot every time you come back down.
His hand lands on your hips digging his fingers in your skin, his arm still around your waist allows you to go faster, he bucks his hips upwards to meet yours half way, he gives the extra fricción you're looking for. “Ngh– shit”
His head leans back in the seat, brows knotting together, enjoying how you're bouncing on him. “Fuck– your precious baby” He moaned.
His hands roam on your back close to your waist dropping all the way to your ass squeezing softly. His lips leaving a trail of kisses hungrily from your jaw to your collarbone, he nips at the skin once he gets there leaving a couple of marks along the way.
His face hides on the crook of your neck as you ride him. Hearing all of the soft moans that are coming out of you in his ear are sending more pressure straight to his cock. “Bradley…” You whimper with need.
He looks into your eyes knowing that you want more. He helps you, jerking up harder, setting a much rougher pace that makes your head feel fuzzy.
Fingers leave bruises on your skin. Your walls clenched around him as he can tell how your legs begin to tense up. You’re close, so close.
“That’s it– Fuck” He moans. You feel your body getting hot and the heat pooling all over your cheeks. When your hand falls on his chest he feels as equally as heated as you. “You cumming baby?”
You nod, desperately latching on to him. You kiss him again to try to ease the feeling that is so overwhelming.
There is sweat making the front pieces of his hair stick to his forehead, the flushed on his cheeks is almost covering his face. You meet with his soft hazel eyes going over the edge.
The orgasm hits you like no other. The waves of pleasure go through your body, and that was enough for him to follow up to you. “Fuck…” he lets out in between moans.
He pounds into you a couple of times before staying completely still.
Your chest meets his, both trying to catch your breath. His arms coming up to your back falling to your waist.
“Well fuck… Happy birthday” Rooster said, panting. There is a chuckle leaving his throat before your lips fall sweetly over his pulling away to show him the pretty smile he’s been charmed by all night.
He stares at you, pushing the hair off your face to take a look at your pretty face. “You’re coming home with me.”
He shifts you, now finding yourself under him “And what exactly are you planning to do with me good sir?”
“Oh, everything honey” He kisses you for the last time leaving you eager for what else he has planned.
***
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@xoxabs88xox @abaker74 @cherrycola27 @mak-32
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rxsilabeth--er · 6 months
Note
let's inagurate this blog with a good note shall we? >:3
Hear me out- on the line of the bullying Tom Riddle agenda Tom's boggart in DADA class is actually the reader about to ruin his whole career because that would be hilarious
☎ Now Calling......Author: "Hello? Hai, yes, thank you for requesting this Hazel, I will surely not disappoint you and hopefully you enjoy reading this, I love bullying Tom as well! Okay, talk to you later! Bye!!"
☎ Now Calling......Synopsis: "Hello! Hai..okay!!...Hmmm....Tom, the prince of Slytherin and feared and admired by many of his fellow peers and students at Hogwarts....find out his worst fear at Defense Against the Dark Arts call with a boggart...but..one second! Why is there a Hufflepuff tie being shown in the human figure of the boggart???"
☎ Now Calling......Warnings: "...nothing...other than Tom Riddle himself as a whole! Anyways....crack..kind of fluff???? Don't know..Bye!! I'm not a funny person!! I know, sorry! I tried my best..."
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Scarily Cute Boggart...
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Tom didn't really want to move to class, but he still did...He was the Head boy! Of-course he would!!....and because he didn't want you to bully him into doing it... as he sat down Tom was also trying his HARDEST to not put the cruciatus curse on his classmate as he scribbled something in his diary..Waiting for the professor to come as it was their practical...Abraxas beside him gossiping about something...to which Tom definitely wasn't paying attention to..
Finally the professor entered the room, pulling a large rack behind him which seemed to shake and move, making everyone curious...Tom closed his diary and walked ahead to understand things..
"....Good morning! So...today's topic is...can you guess it???" of-course no student could, "..Okay..so in this shoe rack....we have a boggart!" The students then all murmured a bit worriedly, as the closet gave a huge jolt
"Can anyone tell me what a boggart is???" of-course Tom's hand stood up before a few others, "..Boggart is a creature which lives in dark spaces and takes the form of whatever a person fears most."
"..Good job Riddle! 5 points to Slytherin!" the professor said as he explained the boggart's personality, habitat, living conditions, etc. before finally explaining how to repel a boggart.
"Riddikulus!"
"Riddikulus!!" the students repeated even Tom did, he was starting to feel a bad vibe coming from the cupboard and he didn't know how to explain it but he felt as though he would forever be embarrassed after this class...
"..Alright, now Riddle!! Do come forward boy!" the professor said as Tom stepped ahead brushing his worries aside, he can't have that! As the professor held his shoulder and pointed his wand at the rack door,
"..Alright, now..1...2...3" the professor did a spell as the rack knob moved and it flew open, the rack was dark inside and nothing could be seen, but a crouched figure of a person was seen, they straightened their back though still crouched and the sunlight hit their shirt....
a Hufflepuff tie...
A Hufflepuff tie...Tom....the heir of Slytherin, the head boy....Tom Riddle...was scared of a Hufflepuff!? That sounds like the biggest joke anyone has heard...or seen in this case...
Tom on the other hand stood there frozen..His cheeks red and his angrily glaring at the boggart...his wand pointed at the boggart who was now slowly moving forward, the sunshine now fell on it's Hufflepuff tie and mischievous grin...
"..Oh Tommy~ " a similar voice said in a teasing voice..it wasn't even cruel....but instead endearing in a way?
Don't know, but Tom began to shake in either fear or anger and pointed his wand at the boggart...who was still hidden in the shadow, only it's grin and tie showing..
"...Ri...Riddi..Riddkulus!!"...TOM RIDDLE STUTTERED?! and suddenly the boggart was switched into a tiny jack-in-the-box...
"..Good....good job... Good job Tom! fifty points to Slytherin!" the professor said forcing the boggart in as he patted Tom's shoulder..Tom was still frozen turned around and walked away embarrassed for life as Abraxas followed him with a grin asking, "..So...Tommy? What was that???" Abraxas's grin dropped from his lips when Tom glared at...Abraxas left and Tom moved to Slytherin dormitory. Tom walked up the stairs to his dorm to find you already sitting there grinning at a couldron mixed with some type of potions...
Oh god...everyone knew the boggart...and maybe they understand why you were his boggart...if they have experienced your words..even though you're a Hufflepuff....
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© This writing work belongs to me, rxsilabeth--er, Aurelia, Rosilabeth, Cerine. Reblogging is appreciated, but plagiarizing or copying my works is forbidden, thank you for reading this and if you like this check out my blog!
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steddieas-shegoes · 9 months
Text
the only time i feel human is when i'm in bed with you
chapter 2: you let me drown in a sea of flames also on AO3
Chapter 1
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Eddie stared between Steve and…Robin?
Who was she and why did Steve seem suddenly worried?
Steve shouldn’t be worried about anything. He’s a demon for fuck sake!
“All of them?” Steve asked her, ignoring Eddie’s very obvious confusion.
“That’s what I said, dingus. Get dressed, put the tail away, and let’s go!” she directed, finally turning to look at Eddie. “We can drop you off back wherever you were so they aren’t suspicious anymore.”
“No offense, but I’m not just gonna go home. I want explanations and I want to go with you wherever you’re going and I want to know who the hell this girl is that’s looking at me like she wants to kill me!” Eddie felt his confusion shifting to anger quickly as he spoke.
Steve, despite Robin’s glaring, stood in front of Eddie and cupped his face in his hands.
He was taller like this, only a few inches, but enough for Eddie to feel like he should curl up against Steve’s chest and stay there, let him protect him from whatever was happening.
But then he remembered that whatever was happening involved his family.
“It’s not safe for you to stay with me, especially if it’s your family coming after me.” Eddie started to argue, but Steve leaned in and kissed him hungrily. “They need to see that you’re safe.”
“But I’m safe with you!” Eddie exclaimed, though he still wasn’t 100% sure that was true. “I’m safe with you.”
“This is adorable, but I cannot emphasize enough how much you don’t have time to be charming right now, Steve,” Robin said from behind them.
“Two minutes, Robs. Please,” Steve said without breaking eye contact with Eddie.
His eyes were black now, his horns still pointing out of his swoop of hair. His tail was wrapping around Eddie’s waist and tugging him against his front.
“I’m sorry this is happening right now. This isn’t a fuck and run, though, okay? I’ll have to be away for a little bit, but when I’m back, I’ll find a way to you. I promise.”
For some reason, Eddie actually believed him.
He had no reason to trust him, to believe that he would do anything different than what he always did with the everyone else, but the tug in his chest told him that Steve was going to come back to him.
Eddie leaned up and kissed him, lips softly demanding against Steve’s.
Steve let him lead, let him slide his tongue past his lips and lick at his sharp teeth.
“I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t,” he whispered when he pulled away, smiling when Steve let out a small laugh.
“I’m sure I’d let you,” Steve said back.
He said it with certainty, a promise to Eddie that he wasn’t taking this lightly.
The moment Steve let go, Eddie shivered. A chill fell over the room as Steve turned away, his tail disappearing in the blink of an eye, his horns gone or hidden by his hair again, his eyes back to the hazel everyone in Hawkins loved to fawn over.
He quickly found his clothes scattered around the room and got dressed, listening to Steve and Robin murmuring to each other but not able to hear exactly what they were saying.
He ran his hands through his hair, flinching when he hit some tangles, and then startled when Robin was right in front of him.
“You’re coming with me, dingus number two. Dingus number one can’t be seen anywhere near you and I don’t know how far behind me they are. Let’s go.”
She didn’t even wait for him to speak, just walked out of the room. Eddie raised his brows at Steve, who was smiling encouragingly at him.
“Best if you just do what she says. I learned a while ago there was no point in arguing with her.”
“Who even is she?” Eddie asked as he stopped in the doorway.
“My best friend since we were little. Also a demon hunter.”
Eddie blinked at him.
“I’m sure she’ll explain. See you as soon as I can, baby,” Steve leaned in to give him one more quick kiss on the lips before he pushed Eddie towards the front door where Robin was impatiently waiting for him.
“Cannot believe I had to see two dicks tonight. Worst night of my life,” Robin said as she opened the front door and gestured for Eddie to walk outside. “My car is the next block over, I’ll drive you back to the bar.”
———————————
The walk to her car was quiet, Eddie’s mind racing with the night’s events.
Steve fucking Harrington just fucked him into next week.
He was a demon. Horns and a tail demon.
“This is me,” Robin said as she walked up to a beat up Oldsmobile, startling him out of his thoughts.
Eddie got in the passenger seat, ignoring the way he felt so cold, so hollow.
He never cared about hookups, never let himself feel anything outside of the moments it took to get off, barely even remembered their names most of the time.
It was easier that way, especially because most of them were closeted straight men from the city who needed to be somewhere they wouldn’t be recognized.
He’d only ever been with a couple guys from school; one was a surprise make out during a deal, the other was a handjob in the school bathroom that ended with Eddie getting punched in the face for “coming onto him” when he didn’t even get off.
Maybe it was just part of Steve’s charm, his actual, literal magic. He was probably able to control Eddie’s mood before and now that he wasn’t close enough to, he was crashing hard.
“So, Eddie, right?” Robin’s voice filled the car as she drove slowly down the road.
“Yeah.”
“Sorry for barging in like that. I didn’t know he actually had you with him, and it was kind of an emergency, so.”
Robin held herself awkwardly, like she was silently apologizing for taking up space and having to move. It probably would be endearing if Eddie wasn’t so confused about, well, everything.
“So you ran to tell him about my family looking for me with him and didn’t actually think I was with him?” Eddie asked, suddenly very confused about what role Robin was playing in all of this sudden chaos.
“I didn’t. The Munsons are pretty famous in the demon hunter business for running with wild theories that are almost never accurate. No offense, but your family is batshit crazy,” Robin said as if Eddie didn’t know that.
It’s why Wayne rarely even talked to them, why only a select few were welcome to visit and even then, usually only around holidays.
“None taken. Wayne and I don’t really talk to them,” Eddie shrugged.
“Wayne? Wayne Munson?” Robin sounded shocked. “Wayne’s been the leader of that whole group for longer than I’ve been alive.”
Eddie shook his head.
“No way. The only people he even talks to more than once a year is his cousin Larry and his son, Ben. I don’t even know the last time they came to Hawkins.”
“Today. They’re there today.”
“Wait. You’re a demon hunter, but you’re best friends with Steve, a demon?”
Nothing was adding up right now.
His brain still felt a little foggy, and his exhaustion from the day and night he’d had seemed to be catching up to him, making this conversation damn near impossible to keep up with.
“We met at camp when we were six. Long story short, we ended up becoming best friends, my parents and his parents were business partners, my parents died, I ended up living with an aunt who was more on the needs-a-lobotomy side of crazy. She was a demon hunter and raised me to be one and when I was 11, I told my aunt about him. She tried to kill him and his parents, which obviously doesn’t work, but then she told me I had to be a demon hunter or she’d put me in the system. So, I stopped hanging out with Steve long enough to learn her tricks, and now I’m basically a double agent. That’s what Steve calls me at least.”
“You talk a lot,” Eddie pointed out.
“So I’ve been told.”
She didn’t seem offended.
Eddie liked her. He could see why Steve did too. She didn’t try to sugarcoat words, rambled to hell and back in the most entertaining ways, and she seemed to care a whole lot about Steve.
“And your aunt is…”
“Abigail Buckley.”
Eddie knew that name somehow. How did he know that name?
“She was in the papers a few years ago for trying to set fire to a man’s house who she suspected was a demon. He is, but she didn’t need to set fire to his whole house. She also should know that servants of hell probably won’t be defeated by fire.”
“So he is actually like, a demon demon? Like, been to hell and all that?” Eddie watched her as she focused on the road ahead.
“Yes and no. There’s so many types of demons. Some are like straight from hell, some are just lucky enough to have all the perks without having to visit there. Others don’t even have most of the perks, they just cause chaos and spread disease. That’s a whole thing.” Robin squinted at the windshield. “That your van?”
Eddie looked out of the windshield at the parking lot of the bar, now completely empty except for his van and another beat up car that probably belonged to the bartender who was closing up when they left.
“Yeah.”
He felt everything hit him at once.
He’d known something was different, wrong, with Steve.
But was it wrong? Or is he wrong?
“Wait.” Eddie looked back at Robin as she put the car in park. “How did they know I was with him? Or where I was? The only person who knew I was even going somewhere was Wayne.”
Robin looked at Eddie like he was an idiot, which was a little unfair, but not completely unfounded.
“You didn’t think the bartender was maybe suspiciously nice to you? Didn’t recognize them at all?” she asked him.
“Uh…no. Should I?”
“I swear,” Robin hit her head against the steering wheel once before looking back at him. “The bartender is your cousin Sue. The only reason Wayne didn’t put up a big fight about you coming here alone was because she was working. She called them as soon as she saw you leave with him. They already suspected he had a place nearby so it won’t take that long for them to figure it out.”
Eddie rested his head against the window and sighed.
This was so much information to process, and he wasn’t firing on all cylinders before she’d started explaining things, so he wouldn’t be surprised if he did come across as an idiot.
He was definitely clueless.
“So what happens now? If I leave, they’ll just keep looking for him, right?” Eddie’s breath fogged up the window as he spoke.
“You get in your van and pretend that you never actually left with him. You can just tell everyone that you decided to take a nap in the van before heading home and he didn’t want to wait with you. They’ll have no reason to doubt you if you’ve never been a hunter like them. They won’t even know that you know,” Robin answered.
“That’s it? They’ll just leave him alone?”
“Not at all. But it gives him a head start to get away until they get distracted by something else for a bit.”
Eddie nodded.
“How long is that do you think?” Eddie didn’t mean to sound so pitiful, he really didn’t, but his head was starting to hurt and his whole body felt sore and tired and his brain was still a bit foggy.
He couldn’t focus on the conversation as well as he should have been able to, and he was starting to convince himself that Steve had possibly fucked his brains out of his head completely.
“Hey. Look at me.” Robin’s voice was stern and he couldn’t help but turn his head towards her, still resting against the window. “Shit. Okay. You’re not high are you? Or drunk?”
“No.”
“Shit! Steven! I swear to god the things I do for this guy!” Robin was mostly talking to herself, waving her arms manically in front of her. “Sends a guy into subspace with his freaky demon shit and then leaves me to deal with it. Unbelievable.”
Eddie perked up at that.
“Subspace? I’m not- it’s not-“
“Oh it is. It so is. And I cannot be here when the Munsons get here. They think I’m on their side, but they’ll be highly suspicious if I somehow got the jump on them.”
“How did you get the jump on them?” Eddie asked, ignoring the rest of what she’d been saying about subspace. He wasn’t a sub, so that wasn’t possible.
“It’s not hard to tune into the Munson family radio channel. I need to know what they’re doing so I can be ready,” Robin supplied.
“For…what?” he asked, feeling dumb again.
At least this time she didn’t sound nearly as annoyed by his stupid questions.
“For when they actually get their shit together enough to catch him. He’s not as careful as he should be, and he may be tough and technically immortal, but they’ll find a way to change that someday. It’s not like anyone else watches out for him, so here I am,” she shrugged.
"So you don’t…actually hunt demons?”
“I’m a demon hunter hunter at this point. Keep tabs on the people who hunt demons and make sure they don’t hunt the one that’s my platonic soulmate.”
He wanted to ask what the hell that meant, but was disrupted by the sound of a radio crackling.
“ETA to the bar is three minutes,” a voice that sounded a lot like Wayne said.
Wayne was supposed to be at work.
He also wasn’t supposed to be a demon hunter anymore, so maybe Eddie needed to try to catch up a bit before making any more assumptions about what Wayne did and didn’t do with his spare time.
“Shit. You gotta get in your van so I can go,” Robin rushed out. “I don’t wanna leave you like this, but I’ll check on you tomorrow, okay?”
“Uh…okay.”
She stared at him, silently telling him to hurry up.
He used up all of his remaining energy, all of the remaining brain cells in his head, and got out of her car, closing the door as quietly as he could manage in the silence of the night.
His van was unlocked, no one was going to steal a beat up van with less than a quarter tank of gas and the engine light on. He hopped into the driver’s seat, put the key in the ignition but kept it turned off, and rested his head against the back of his seat.
He didn’t think he’d actually have to pretend to be taking a nap, his entire body feeling like it weighed 500 pounds and his eyes already drifting shut.
Just as he sighed out and felt his muscles relax, someone was knocking on his window.
He opened his eyes, his vision blurred even though they’d only been closed for a minute.
“Ed?” Wayne was asking from outside, looking at him in a way that told Eddie he better show him that he was physically fine quickly.
“Wayne?”
Honestly, the fact that Eddie was able to act surprised to see him with the exhaustion clouding his brain was impressive.
Wayne opened the door and put his hand on Eddie’s chest, feeling his heartbeat.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah. What are you doin’ here?”
“The bartender was worried you’d drank too much,” he lied so easily, Eddie suddenly felt sick.
How much of his life with Wayne had been a lie? How much of the time Wayne spent working had actually been him meeting up with family to hunt for demons? How many demons had he managed to find? Managed to hurt?
How many demons were like Steve? Just trying to live somewhere, never actually hurting anyone or anything?
How many of those demons ended up hunted because of people like his own family?
“I barely drank at all. Just got tired so I took a nap,” he said as his brain raced through thoughts of Wayne hurting Steve.
Picturing the way he would try to kill him just for existing as something other than human.
Maybe trying to keep a horn as a trophy.
He wouldn’t do that.
Would he?
“I’d feel better if I drove ya home, kid. We can come grab your van tomorrow,” Wayne suggested.
“Okay.”
It wasn’t worth fighting about, and coming back tomorrow would maybe let him get a glimpse of some of the area in the daylight.
Maybe get a glimpse of Steve.
The logic had long left his brain, and even though he knew that Steve was probably going to be long gone tomorrow, a part of him believed he’d find him.
His chest ached at the thought of not knowing where Steve was now, where he’d be tomorrow, or even when he might find his way back.
“Ed? You good?” Wayne asked again, and Eddie realized he’d been zoned out again.
He really needed to get his shit together before he had Robin hating him and Steve ended up hurt or worse.
“Yep. Let’s go.”
He got out of the van and walked over to Wayne’s running truck, settling into the passenger seat and resting his head against the window.
He felt the aches throughout his body whining at the discomfort of the front seat, at the way he was curling against the door to keep some distance between himself and Wayne when he got in the driver’s seat.
He closed his eyes.
Ignored when Wayne got inside.
And let sleep finally take him.
————————————
“I’m tellin’ ya, Sue, I don’t think I’ve seen him this tired since he was a kid! It ain’t right. He said he took a nap in the van and I dunno why he’d lie. You sure you saw him?”
Wayne’s voice slowly welcomed him back to the land of the living, quickly followed by the panic he felt at being vertical on their couch.
How did he get inside? Wayne wasn’t strong enough to carry him and he definitely wasn’t awake enough to walk.
“Alright. I’ll let ya know. Thanks again.”
He heard Wayne hang up the phone in the kitchen and he considered closing his eyes again to pretend to sleep away the unavoidable confrontation.
He could see sunlight through the curtains and knew that Steve must be safe somewhere by now, or hoped so at least.
He kept his eyes open as Wayne came back in the room and sat down in his armchair.
“You awake?” he asked with a sigh.
“Barely,” Eddie responded.
He still felt the exhaustion deep in his bones and muscles, felt the ache in his legs and hips from the position Steve had him in the night before.
He sat up slowly, ignoring how lightheaded he felt, and looked at Wayne.
Wayne seemed tired, dark circles under his eyes somehow more purple than usual. His whole body seemed drawn into itself, curling into itself in ways that he’d never seen.
Wayne was a proud man, never showed his exhaustion or stress externally, so Eddie felt shocked into silence for a moment as he took it in.
“What did you do with Steve Harrington last night?” Wayne watched him carefully.
“I wasn’t even in Hawkins last night, how would I have done anything with Steve Harrington? Also, it’s Steve Harrington, why would he do anything with me?”
That felt like a good start. Get Wayne to admit his own truth without giving away anything, confront him about lying, distract him completely from Steve, and hope the rest of his family was called off when Wayne realized Sue was wrong about what she saw.
“Ed, I’m tired. I just wanna know what’s goin’ on. He ain’t good news and you don’t need to have him around. Was it a deal or somethin’?”
Wayne knew about Eddie’s “job.” He’d never told him, he just kind of guessed when he started randomly leaving the trailer late at night for 30 or 40 minutes and coming back with cash to help with bills.
He was giving Eddie an out. Eddie should take it.
He didn’t.
“No. We just talked a bit.”
“About?”
“Why does it matter? He left and I took a nap,” Eddie was getting frustrated.
Wayne never cared who he hung out with as long as they weren’t getting into trouble and weren’t hurting Eddie, so why the hell did he think it was normal to care so much now?
“He hurt you?”
“No!”
“He say anything to you?”
“Wayne, this is ridiculous. I wasn’t even drunk or anything. Why are you so worried about Steve?”
Eddie felt himself crashing again, his patience running thin, his body sore and tired, anxiety at the thought that Steve may not be safe.
Confusion at the thought of being this worried about Steve Harrington.
“I told ya Steve ain’t nothin’ but trouble, didn’t I? Just worried he got you involved in somethin’.”
Wayne stood up from his chair like this conversation was done, like he’d explained himself enough and Eddie could go back to sleep and pretend nothing happened.
As if Eddie would let this pass.
He gave him the option to be honest, to explain why the hell he was so worried, and he didn’t.
Now it was time to push him. That’s what he was good at.
“What would he have gotten me involved in? Selling drugs? Bit late for that,” Eddie knew that would sting.
He knew Wayne hated how he made money, had mentioned a bunch of times how he didn’t have to worry about working until he graduated and he could probably get a job with him at the plant or at the mechanic easily enough.
This would hopefully push just the right button.
“If you say he left, then I ain’t worried. Just drop it, Ed,” Wayne started to walk away.
“And why exactly did you come out there when you were supposed to be working? You lied about working on my birthday?”
Wayne froze and turned, face pale, guilty.
“I was workin’. Just not at the plant,” Wayne admitted quietly.
“So you have another job now? I told you I can help with bills,” Eddie insisted.
“No, no. Not really a paying job.”
“So you skipped my birthday for volunteering? Was it at least for a good cause?” Eddie felt his chest tightening, his chest hurting at the thought of his uncle not spending time with him on his birthday to hunt demons.
“Ed-“
“What was it for?”
“You remember I told ya about Steve being trouble, his parents being trouble? There’s a handful of other people in town who are too for different reasons. And my other job is to make sure they don’t hurt anybody.”
It was more than Eddie had been given so far, but still not complete honesty.
His head was starting to hurt and his stomach was turning over itself.
“How would they do anything worse than anyone else? The Harringtons aren’t that powerful.”
“They aren’t human, Ed. And if you spent time alone with Steve, I need to know. He coulda done more damage than you know,” Wayne sounded defeated.
And Eddie was pissed.
For many reasons, of course, but the main one being that Wayne had lied to him.
He’d lied for years.
But he’d lied on his birthday.
The one person he had in this whole fucked up world lied to him about working on his birthday, left him alone to illegally drink at a bar out of town.
Didn’t even seem like he was actually sorry about it, either.
“I’ll be in my room,” Eddie finally said, ending the stand-off in the living room.
He didn’t want to talk, didn’t even want to look at Wayne.
He wanted to curl up in bed and cry, and then maybe eventually take a hot shower to ease the ache in his muscles.
Luckily, Wayne didn’t try to stop him as he walked past to go to his room.
He didn’t slam the door, didn’t have the energy to do more than close it quietly and lean against it, thumping his head back against the thin wood.
He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath.
He was still so damn tired.
He stripped out of his clothes, ignoring the way he still had traces of Steve, traces of himself dried on his skin.
His bed wasn’t anything to write home about, especially since he didn’t know the last time he actually managed to remember to wash the sheets, but it had never felt so welcoming as right now.
He didn’t even bother getting under the comforter, just starfished his body across it’s entire length and width, closed his eyes, and let himself drift off again.
—————————————
He woke up to voices.
He was tired of waking up to people talking.
Especially when those people were in his bedroom.
“His fever’s goin’ up more and more by the hour. You know what we gotta do, Wayne,” a voice he vaguely recognized as one of his cousins said.
“We ain’t doin’ shit until he wakes up and tells us if we need to do shit. I trust him and he said Steve didn’t do anything except talk with him,” Wayne insisted, voice barely more than a whisper.
“So this is just a coincidence that he’s got the symptoms right after we suspect he was bein’ led down the wrong path by a demon?” a different voice, maybe his aunt, asked.
“Hey, he’s wakin’ up!” a younger voice, probably another cousin, exclaimed.
“Ed? Hey, can you look at me?” Wayne’s voice was closer now, but when he opened his eyes, everything seemed blurry.
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out except a few squeaks.
A flu was nothing to panic over, but he took inventory of everything else as much as he could.
His body felt heavy, and he could feel how drenched in sweat he was, but he kept feeling shivers wrack his body.
Nothing was cold, but nothing was hot, and his throat and chest felt like it was full of crackling logs in a fireplace.
He could feel his hands shaking even though they weren’t moving, just resting against the bed.
“It’s gotta be it, Wayne. You can’t ignore it! Your boy slept with a demon!”
“Everybody out! I’m talkin’ to Eddie alone for a minute,” Wayne’s voice boomed.
It was rare that Wayne let himself be heard or seen, usually preferred keeping to himself as much as possible, so when he put himself out there, everyone tended to listen.
Eddie’s room was empty in less than a minute.
Wayne sat on the edge of his bed carefully, not wanting to disrupt Eddie’s comfort if he could help it.
“Ed. You and Steve did more than talk, didn’t ya?”
He reached a hand out to brush some hair from Eddie’s face.
All Eddie could do was nod.
“You touch him?”
Another nod.
“You do a lot more than that?”
Eddie almost didn’t answer.
For one, concentrating on what was happening was difficult. His whole body was screaming at him, his mind trying to shut back down and put him back to sleep.
But he also didn’t want Wayne to know. He didn’t think anyone should get to know who he slept with and when, and he knew if Wayne found out, everyone outside his room would know too.
He hadn’t exactly planned on coming out to his entire extended family today, if ever.
“It’s been two days, Ed. Somethin’ happened when you were with him that made you sick and we gotta make sure it stops before it kills ya.”
That didn’t sound good. It sounded like some religious cult bullshit if Eddie’s ever heard it.
And it didn’t sound like Wayne actually believed it would work.
Wayne got off the bed and left the room, and Eddie tried to follow, but couldn’t even lift his head for more than a couple of seconds.
His eyes closed against his will, a small whimper leaving his throat when a sharp pain went through his chest.
He passed out to thoughts of Steve.
———————————————
This time when he woke, there was silence.
He almost preferred the voices.
“It’s okay, Eddie. Steve’s coming, okay?”
Robin?
He could barely find the energy to open his eyes, could barely even use up the energy needed to have the thought that it was actually her.
But he could hear her mumbling to herself next to his bed, her hand holding one of his in comfort.
Just before he fell asleep again, he heard her say, “can’t believe he found a human bond and then had to run.”
————————————————
A cold, wet washcloth was on the back of his neck and a hand was running through his hair.
He was in a comfortable bed, and someone, he couldn’t be sure who, was holding him.
Well, at first he couldn’t be sure.
But now, he felt something tugging at his chest telling him that it was Steve.
And he had no reason to doubt that, especially when he took inventory of how he felt and realized he felt at least 80% better.
His head still hurt a bit and his bones were still sore, but he could open his eyes and see clearly, and he was pretty certain his fever had broken.
“Steve?” his voice was raspy, but it was there.
“Hey, Eds. How do you feel?”
He started to answer when he realized he wasn’t in his bed. He wasn’t in his room.
He wasn’t even in his trailer.
“Where am I?” he asked, starting to push himself up, but being held in place by Steve’s strong arms.
“One of my homes. I had to get you out of there.”
What the hell had happened?
Wait.
“Robin?”
“She helped. Couldn’t have done it without her. But she’s not here. Didn’t wanna risk a trail to us,” Steve explained.
“How?”
“There’s a lot to explain, but you need to drink and eat, and I can draw you a bath if you want to wash some of that sweat off.”
Eddie shook his head.
“Please?”
Steve was staring down at Eddie, watching as he became more aware.
“Demons like me aren’t supposed to ever find bonds at all. It’s just not possible for us. Or it shouldn’t be. We’re just here to cause a little casual chaos, make sure there’s always assholes ruining someone’s day, make sure the economy crashes occasionally. That kinda thing.” Steve gently scratched Eddie’s back as he spoke. “But some of the older demons, they still have bonds. They’re rare with humans, but they have happened. Robin thinks we bonded and you weren’t given the proper cool down because I had to go.”
He sounded apologetic, nervous, maybe even borderline scared.
“How?”
“How did we bond?”
“Robin thinks it was the kiss.”
The kiss? They kissed a lot.
“There’s not much information out there, but she thinks when your first touch was a kiss, that started it all,” he further explained.
It didn’t explain anything at all, but Eddie was so happy to just be feeling better, he couldn’t really find it in himself to care.
Especially not when he was being held.
He let his head fall back against Steve’s chest, his arm wrapping around Steve’s waist and legs holding onto one of Steve’s.
“What does this mean?” Eddie finally asked.
“It means that we’re kinda stuck with each other.”
“For how long?”
“Well, until one of us dies or I end up being put in another body.”
Eddie sat up.
“What.”
Steve appeared completely human right now. No horns, eyes hazel, no tail.
He looked like the guy everyone wanted.
“If I had known it would happen, I wouldn’t have let you kiss me. I swear.”
He was pulling away, and that was the last thing Eddie wanted or needed.
“You kiss so many people, though. Half of Hawkins High has had their mouth on yours. You haven’t bonded with any of them have you?” Eddie asked as he grabbed onto Steve’s hand to keep him there.
“No. A bond is only something that can happen when you meet the missing part of your soul.”
“Oh my god. This is so fucking stupid. I don’t even believe in soulmates!” Eddie threw his hands up, not noticing Steve’s smirk as his own hand intertwined with Eddie’s went up in the air too.
“It’s not quite that? It does have to do with the soul, but with human’s idea of soulmates, you tend to see it as two halves of a soul coming together or two matching souls finding each other. This is more like you are one entire soul, as all humans are, and I am missing a part of mine, as all demons do. You, and only you, have the one missing part of my soul.”
Eddie stared back at him, blinking rapidly.
“I cannot believe this. I am the missing part of Steve Harrington.”
Steve let out a laugh, and nodded.
“It’s pretty hard to believe, but here we are.”
“So what happens if we decide we can’t stand each other?” Eddie asked, tracing his finger along the palm of Steve’s hand.
“That can’t happen now that we’ve bonded.”
“Surely, some bonded demon has gotten sick of their human’s…humanity.”
Steve leaned forward, cupping Eddie’s face in his hands.
“I may not know much about this, but I know that bonds don’t allow that.”
Steve kissed him.
It wasn’t like before, it wasn’t hungry and desperate, hot and passionate.
This was soft, tender, a reminder that they’d gone fast last time.
“Wait. How long has it been? And where is Robin?” Eddie pulled away, ignoring the way his heart was fluttering in his chest.
“She’s busy convincing the Munsons that she managed to cleanse your soul and now you’re resting in a secret location. It’s been four days since we bonded,” Steve said before taking his lips in another kiss.
Eddie let him this time, wanted to feel the physical pressure of Steve’s attention in this way after so long without.
But only a few seconds later, he had to pull away for breath, and to find some solid ground.
The room was spinning, but not in the way it normally would during an intense kiss.
“Water. Food. Bath,” Steve said before getting up.
He reached for a glass on the bedside table and handed it over to Eddie, watching as he drank most of it quickly.
“Hello! Steve! Is everyone dressed?” Robin’s voice called out as a door closed and locked.
“Yes!” Steve yelled back, rolling his eyes at Eddie, but giving a fond smile.
“Good because if I see either of you naked again, I’m going to beg you to kill me,” Robin said as she walked into the bedroom, a familiar bag over her shoulder.
“Is that my bag?” Eddie asked.
“Yeah and let me just say: you have the most organized disaster of a room I’ve ever seen. That’s a compliment and a concern.” She set the bag down on the bed. “Couple outfits and a notebook and pencil. It’s all I could get that wouldn’t look suspicious for the excuse I gave to Wayne.”
“How did you even get me here?”
He knew Steve could probably carry him without any effort at all, but Robin? She probably couldn’t even lift both his legs at once, her bony frame not remotely athletic.
“I distracted them all while Steve grabbed you. Then I said one of my aunt’s friends came to grab him so they didn’t try to find you. They were only a little suspicious, but then I explained I was a friend from school and they didn’t seem to care. For people who just panicked and nearly rioted against Steve at the thought of him being near you, they sure didn’t hesitate to trust me.”
“Well, you’re one of them, Robbie,” Steve winked at her.
“If you don’t shut up, I’m going back and telling them that you turned their precious angel Eddie into a demon.”
“That’s not even possible,” Steve said.
“They don’t know that.”
Eddie watched them, smiling to himself at their back and forth, at the way that Robin was making sure Eddie had what he needed and Steve was okay.
“I knew it!” they all jumped at the sound of another voice in the doorway.
Steve stood in front of Eddie, completely hiding him from view as his horns appeared, his tail lashing out faster than Eddie even realized it could.
“How did this one get in?” Steve asked Robin, his voice deeper than Eddie had ever heard it.
“I don’t know! You heard me lock the door,” Robin answered, slowly moving behind Steve too.
“He followed you,” Steve said.
Eddie peeked around Steve’s shoulder, not at all shocked to find one of his cousins. An idiot by every stretch of the imagination.
“Something wasn’t addin’ up. This girl we ain’t met comes ‘round and insists she’s a friend and turns out she’s a Buckley, and she knew ‘bout what was goin’ on with Eddie. But no one outside the family knows so that meant she had to be listenin’ on the radio. And if she’s doin’ that, what else could she be hidin’? So now we know. She’s helpin’ a demon.”
“Robs, take Eddie and go,” Steve spoke dangerously low, tone in his voice leaving no room for argument.
But Eddie pushed.
“I’m not leaving you! Look what happened last time,” Eddie panicked.
“Baby, he’s here for a fight and I can’t win one if I’m too busy protecting you,” Steve said over his shoulder, his eyes staying on Eddie’s cousin.
Was it Greg? Gary? Gordon?
Eddie suddenly remembered he was the one out on bail and waiting trial for breaking and entering a jewelry store. All evidence pointed to him going to prison for at least a few years soon, so he had nothing to lose.
Steve gave him a short nod.
Oh shit. Can you hear me?
Steve gave another short nod, a hint of a smirk on his face.
He’s terrified to go. Wayne said he almost went on the run.
“Quite a history of breaking and entering you have,” Steve said. “Your lawyer must not have told you how bad it looks to a jury when you commit the same crime more than once. Especially when one of those times is against a Harrington.”
Eddie shivered at his tone.
The subtle threat was enough to make Eddie want to drop to his knees right there.
“Richard Harrington’s a damn good lawyer, too. He’s put men away for longer for doing much less.”
“All I want is to bring Eddie back. Won’t bother you again if you just let me take him home.”
Eddie didn’t need to see Steve’s eyes to know they’d just flashed red.
“You won’t take what’s mine. Not unless he chooses to go,” Steve said, stalking forward and pinning the man against the wall. “He belongs to me and if you want him, you’ll have to kill me. You’ve never managed to succeed with that, so I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.”
If Eddie wasn’t still so drained, he’d be hard.
Something about Steve saying Eddie belonged to him was making him feel weak in the knees.
“Eddie! Wayne is begging for you to come home!”
That made Eddie pause for a moment, and Steve felt his hesitation. He loosened his hold on Gill (that was his name!) and turned his head to meet Eddie’s eyes.
Eddie was walking up to them, shrugging Robin off as she tired to hold him back.
“Wayne let me spend my birthday alone because he thought getting the jump on some demons was more important. Ironically, I spent my birthday with a demon instead. So maybe Wayne should have thought of that when he sent me off to another town with $20 and pretended he had a shift,” Eddie bit his lip to keep from crying.
Steve’s rage filled the room, but he contained it quickly, not wanting to actually kill the guy he was holding against the wall.
Not unless he gave him a reason to.
“Ed, this is bigger than us. You have to understand the responsibility we have-“
“He had a responsibility to me!” Eddie yelled.
The room went silent.
Steve’s tail grazed Eddie’s arm, almost as if to comfort him.
“Maybe if he’d focused on his actual responsibility, I wouldn’t have bonded with a demon.”
Gill looked between the two of them for a moment, face getting red with anger.
“There’s no way in hell you bonded with a demon.”
“It didn’t happen in hell, you fuckin’ idiot, it happened in bed-“
Steve was strong, and he was fast, but he hadn’t expected to need as much strength to keep a hold on Gill.
Gill’s fist swung out, making contact with Eddie’s face before Steve could shove him out the door.
“After everything Wayne’s done for you!” Gill was yelling from the floor as Robin rushed forward to grab Eddie.
“Baby? You okay for a minute?” Steve asked, voice eerily calm.
“Mhm,” Eddie whimpered, not even believing it himself.
Robin’s hands were on his shoulders, guiding him to the bed to sit down.
“Shit, Eddie. How is it already swelling?” Robin was looking at his eye and cheek, not touching, but hovering her hand over it as if that would magically keep it from getting worse.
“You know, Gill. You could’ve walked away. Could have gone home and told them to wait for Eddie to be ready to come back. Told them he was fine. Maybe even worked yourself into my good graces and seen what I could’ve done for you. But now,” Steve snorted. “Now, you better prepare yourself for the maximum prison sentence you can get. Hope you make friends quick.”
Eddie couldn’t focus on anything else as the entire right side of his face started throbbing.
He drowned out Robin’s voice, drowned out the noise of Gill whimpering in pain, drowned out everything as he realized he was going to black out.
As much time as he’d spent unconscious lately, he thought it would be easier by now to just pass out gracefully.
Something told him the way Robin was yelling his name as he lost consciousness proved he hadn’t quite mastered it yet.
Chapter 3
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velidewrites · 2 months
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Don’t Look Back
Five hundred years ago, the humans fought hard for their freedom in the Great War and won. Now, their former masters seek retribution in a rebellion that grows stronger year by year. When Elain Archeron finds out marrying Greysen Nolan might be the only solution to keep her family safe from the ancient, cruel Fae, she doesn't hesitate to fulfil her duty. What Elain doesn't know, though, is that the man with the fiery hair and russet eyes is not her fiancé, but his killer—and when she finally finds out, well…it will be far too late to turn back.
Chapter 4/15 || Read on AO3 || Go to Chapter 1 || beta'd by @ablogofsapphicpanic
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Chapter 4: The Runaway
As much as she hated to agree with anything that came out of Lucien Vanserra’s mouth, Elain was angry. The rage burning in her cheeks felt hotter than the fire flickering at Eris’s fingertips, ready to reduce the tent and everyone inside it to ash as she seethed, “He is no betrothed of mine.”
“The feeling is quite mutual, I assure you,” Graysen—Lucien, she had to correct herself—told her.
“So let me go, then.”
Lucien didn’t even meet her gaze. “Ah,” he said, studying his nails—long and sharp now, Elain realised, so unlike the hands that held her at the ball last night. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
Elain gritted her teeth. “Explain.”
“We’re many days from New Prythian, Lady Archeron,” Eris’s voice reached her. She’d nearly forgotten he was in the tent—him and Azriel, who now stood guarding the entrance, hazel eyes not leaving the scene for one second. “We’ve reached Braemar this morning, There’s no turning back.”
She peeled her gaze off of Lucien’s hand, his stupid, handsome face, and made herself look at Eris. “You seem like a man who loves to hear himself talk,” she said to him. “So talk.”
Lucien snorted.
Eris’s amber gaze cut to him instantly. “Something funny, little brother?”
Elain blinked. “Brother?”
Her question was ignored entirely. “There’s just something wonderfully satisfying about watching a human put you in your place,” Lucien crooned, a familiar smile returning onto his full lips.
If I may return the compliment…Your eyes are the most beautiful I have ever seen.
He’d spoken these words to her with that smile. It seemed like a lifetime ago now.
Whatever she had felt—whatever she thought she had felt before when she looked at Lucien was long gone now.
He was a liar—he was such a liar, and Elain had been nothing but a fool. 
Clearly unaware of the turmoil whirring through her mind, Eris said, “One more word, and you’ll be leaving this camp on foot.” He turned to Elain. “Do you ride, Lady Archeron?”
Elain narrowed her eyes on him. “I am not going anywhere with you,” she spat. Then, like a flicker of light sparking in her head, she added, “You’re the Fae rebels the Huntsman has been after, aren’t you?”
They had to be—there were so very few of them left. And if Braemar was indeed where they’d taken her, the three males standing before her like predators circling their prey must’ve been the ones who had made Father give Nesta away to Hybern—and Elain to Rask.
As great as that went.
“Would you look at that, Eris,” Lucien purred, “Our reputation precedes us.”
“All the way to New Prythian, it seems,” Eris agreed, his expression sour. “Wretched place. I never enjoyed coming back here.” He grimaced. “Especially when it was known under another name.”
“You’ve been to our lands before,” Elain told him, the words not entirely a question.
Eris nodded. “I’ve had the displeasure,” he said. “Spring Court. Nothing but nasty beasts roaming everywhere. Terrible leadership.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Some things never change.”
Elain ignored the jab. “And you?” she asked, turning to Lucien.
“First time,” he shrugged, the hard muscles of his arms shifting with the movement. Damn him. “And while I certainly wish it could be my last, Princess, I’m afraid we’ve got some more work to do in New Prythian.”
“I hope by more work you mean returning me to the Manor, because I am not going a step further with the likes of you,” Elain seethed.
The corner of Lucien’s mouth quirked upwards. “The likes of us,” he hummed. “What could you possibly mean by that, little fawn?”
The bastard saw through her again.
So Elain finally asked, “Are you the Fae who killed my mother?”
It wasn’t difficult to put two and two together. These Fae had broken into Elain’s house like it was nothing—like they had been there before. And, since they were the only rebels who had dared to cross onto New Prythian, into her father’s territory…
Eris looked directly into her eyes as he said, “Yes.”
It was strange how one simple word had managed to knock her breath out of her chest—how it replaced all the air with that angry, sizzling fire, begging to be let out like a caged animal.
Elain choked through the feeling. “You did this?” She looked at Lucien. “Did you?” He said he hadn’t been to her lands before, but, in the less than twenty-four hours Elain had known him, he had not been truthful with her once. Why should she believe him?
Lucien met her stare calmly. “Would it change anything if I did?” he asked.
Elain would kill him, she decided right there and then. She didn’t care when, she didn’t care how—hell, she didn’t even care if it really was him who had done it. One way or another, Lucien Vanserra would pay for it—for all of it.
Perhaps she would hire a mercenary—or send an entire guard after him, if she ever managed to return home. Perhaps she would find the worst magical object in her father’s prized collection and use it to do it herself. An enchanted dagger, perhaps, shoved right through his neck.
So Elain told him, forcing that resolve into her trembling tone, “I want to know if the male who ruined my future is the same one who ruined my past.”
Lucien’s brows rose.
“It was me,” Eris said then, once again reminding Elain that perhaps Lucien was not the only male she had to swear to kill.
Her head whipped towards him. “How?” she questioned, jaw tensing as she made herself add, “There wasn’t any blood on her sheets when she was found.”
She had to know. Whatever they’d done to her, she’d repay it tenfold.
A rare thought crossed her mind that Nesta would have enjoyed the newfound bloodlust in Elain. Her sister had always harboured more vindictiveness inside her than Elain, which apparently was something Lucien Vanserra had a talent of bringing out of her. Perhaps she needed to get to Hybern, first—to alert Nesta and her allies, however terrifying they were, of the rebels who dared to kill their family.
If the promise was written on her face, Eris seemed to care for none of it. “Your mother died a lot quicker than she deserved,” he simply said, fixing the cuffs of his immaculate bronze jacket.
“Monsters,” Elain seethed. “You’re such monsters.”
A warning flame flickered in Lucien’s russet eyes. Beautiful, Elain had called them. She cursed herself for a fool once more.
“My brother is many things, Princess,” Lucien said slowly. “But a monster is not one of them.”
Eris’s gaze shot over to Lucien’s.
“And my sister?” Elain asked, dread building in her chest in anticipation of the answer. “What did you do to her?”
Eris’s attention returned to her. “We did not kill Feyre Archeron,” he told her. “Your mother was trouble enough.”
Her throat burned. “I hate you.”
Eris sighed. “I’m sure you do,” he nodded, as though she was nothing but a mere child and he was the one forced to pacify it. “That doesn’t change the fact that we need your help, Lady Archeron, and we will not release you until you give it to us.”
Elain shook her head. “You’re insane,” she told them both. “Insane. Why would I help the monsters,” she repeated, secretly enjoying the way Lucien’s nostrils flared at the word, “who had spent centuries trying to kill every last one of my kind? My own family?”
Lucien bristled, “Liars. Humans have always been such liars.”
Elain’s features were crafted of stone as she faced him again. “You have been lying to me from the moment we met,” she told Lucien. “I don’t ever want to speak to you again.”
A muscle jutted in Lucien’s jaw.
“If you don’t listen to my brother,” Eris interrupted, watching her closely, “Perhaps you could be convinced by an old friend.”
Elain did not have time to question any of them as the flaps of the tent opened, the pale sunlight pouring in through the gap. As a new figure appeared in the entrance and brushed past Azriel, her hair shining like red-hot, molten metal.
That face—Elain knew that face. Had remembered how it lit up in a smile the very last time she had seen it, six years ago before the messengers alerted the Manor of her death.
The Huntsman’s daughter, her death the very first time Elain understood just how cruel the Fae truly were, stopped right before Elain and smiled.
Alive.
Elain swallowed in disbelief. “Vassa?”
***
The camp had been packed up before Elain even got the chance to see it. She had simply been placed in a rather unimpressive, open wooden carriage when a black-haired female appeared in her tent and announced they were ready to depart.
You can save your heartfelt reunion for the journey, Eris had told her then. We need to keep moving.
“I don’t understand,” Elain now told Vassa, trying not to scowl through the pain in her rear as they made their way through the bumpy road. She had ignored Lucien, who was quickly proving a rather unfortunate company, and the smirk still playing on his lips from the first time she’d yelped out in surprise when the carriage went over a rock. “I thought you were dead.”
Vassa smiled lightly, “My father certainly likes to spread that story around,” she told her. “It helps his cause, if nothing else. Truth is, he’s never liked me very much.”
“Does he know you’re alive?” Elain asked.
“He’s heard rumours, I’m sure,” Vassa nodded. “It brings me comfort to know they keep him up at night,” she added, a smirk of her own now curling her mouth.
Elain’s brows knotted. “Your father is a good person, Vassa.” She didn’t the Huntsman all that well, yes, but he was the one who had been keeping the Fae like Lucien away from New Prythian for all those centuries. Mostly successfully.
Vassa gave her a look. “Come now, Elain,” she almost scolded. “We haven’t spent much time together in the past, but I’ve always thought you were smarter than this.” She looked out to the path ahead as she added, “They all want us to think of them as our saviours, but those of us who have broken free of their lies…we know the truth.”
Elain angled her head. “Which is?”
“You’ll find out soon,” was Vassa’s cryptic reply.
“Where is it you’re taking me, exactly?”
Lucien shifted in his seat, reminding her of his rather unwelcome presence. “That is none of your concern,” he said, crossing his arms over his muddy, white shirt. He’d gotten rid of the jacket he’d worn at the ball, his sleeves now rolled up to his elbows, exposing arms so well-built she had to wonder just how many ex-fiancés he had to kill to look that ridiculous.
“I was not speaking to you,” she rudely told him. Then, upon further consideration, “I hope you know this engagement is over,” she added.
Lucien rolled his eyes. “My poor, broken heart,” he mocked, then rested an arm on the wooden rim and returned to brooding in silence.
Good. Elain was quickly finding out she was less aggravated the longer he kept his mouth closed.
“And they tell us to be afraid of the Fae,” she told Vassa. “Are they all such idiots?”
She could have sworn she heard a quiet scoff coming somewhere from the front.
Vassa grinned, clearly hearing it, too. “Oh, yes.”
“I am still here, Vassa,” Lucien grumbled.
Fine. If he so badly wanted to be part of the conversation, she would indulge him. As vexing as Lucien Vanserra was, she could at the very least get some answers out of him. And at best…he could be more useful to her than she'd originally thought.
So she asked, “How did you kill him?” She clarified, in case he really did spend all his free time killing mortal men, “Greysen?”
Vassa turned to Lucien. “I don’t think she wants to hear—”
“I ripped his heart out,” Lucien told her as if he was describing no more than his breakfast. Then, “It was over before he even really felt it.”
Elain looked at Vassa. “I think I’m going to be sick.” 
Vassa’s eyes widened. “Should we stop the carriage?”
Elain nodded. “Plea—”
“We are not stopping the carriage,” Lucien cut in. “The Princess has heard of worse things in her life, Vassa,” he added, his gaze drifting back to Elain. “But that was a clever move, I’ll give you that. Too bad it didn’t work,” he shrugged, that shit-eating smirk returning onto his face.
“I hate you,” Elain told him truthfully, silently cursing all the gods for letting him ruin all her plans again. The open carriage would have been a lot harder to slip out of if it weren’t for his interrupting. 
His smile only grew as he pointed out, “You didn’t seem to hate me at the ball.” 
“And you didn’t seem to be such a—”
“Alright,” Vassa said, her voice rising over the rather unladylike nickname Elain had opted for. “Let’s all calm down, shall we? There really is no need to ruin a perfectly good carriage, especially when we’re going to need it for later.” A look at Elain. “I would appreciate it, though, if you didn’t try any more tricks on us, Elain. As difficult as this one is making it for me to prove, we do mean well.”
“Don’t forget who her father is,” Lucien added, his tone betraying nothing but mockery. “She may not understand the meaning of the word.”
“You didn’t even know him,” Elain spat. 
“I didn’t have to,” Lucien said. “The fact that he married someone like your mother, of all the monsters on this earth, is telling enough.”
“Oh, you mean the woman you murdered?”
Vassa sighed deeply. “There are many things you don’t know, Elain,” she told her. “Everything will be explained once we reach the—” Lucien cleared his throat, and Vassa rolled her eyes once more. “Once we reach our destination,” she said instead, and Elain cursed them both for yet another lie they were feeding her.
“Why should I believe anything he says?” she asked. “Anything you all say? You kidnapped me from my own home, killed my fiancé, and are now taking me Gods know where in hopes of…what? That I’ll help you?” She almost laughed. “Give me one good reason, Vassa,” she told her. “Give me one reason why I should listen.”
“You don’t exactly have any other choice,” Lucien muttered from the front of the carriage.
“Shut up, Lucien,” Vassa told him. “Look. I know this is…difficult to understand,” she started, and the pity in her eyes was enough to make Elain seethe all over again.
“Don’t patronise me,” she accused.
“I’m not,” Vassa pressed. “I was you, once. Did you know why my father sent me to the Wildlands all those years ago?” She scoffed, more to herself now than Elain as she added, “I was getting out of control. His control, of course, and he was not happy with it. He didn’t like seeing my power grow—didn’t like seeing how his court rallied around me, how every hunt I returned from was more successful than the last. His hold over Braemar was slipping right into my hand.” Something like sadness took hold of her freckled features, and the air around them seemed to thicken. Even Lucien’s attention drifted back towards them as Vassa said, “But, at that time, my hand was his own. I was his daughter. Everything I did—all of it—had been to gain his favour. I killed and slaughtered because I thought that, with enough bloodshed spilled in his name, he would eventually claim me as his heir. Hell, claiming me as his child would have probably been enough for me.” Cerulean eyes met Elain’s own. “But all my father saw was a threat. So I became exactly that.”
Vassa continued, “When he sent me to the North under some pathetic excuse of protection from the Fae rebels marching on Braemar, I knew it was to get rid of me. I begged and I pleaded for him to let me stay—to let me fight by his side, to avenge our ancestors and kill the masters threatening our family again. All this time, I had no idea it was us, the humans, living in their ancestral home. That it was my family who had taken that home from the ones who had once been our allies.”
“But my father didn’t let me stay—he forced me onto my horse and, with a legion of twelve sentries who I knew were really my executioners, sent me to the border. The fact that he thought twelve men could hold me down…” A sly smile curled the corner of her mouth. “Then again, my father had always underestimated me.”
Elain swallowed.
“They attacked the moment we stepped into the Guardian’s lands,” Vassa went on, “But the border was empty. He was likely in on it, too. No one in their right mind ever wants to get on the Harvester’s bad side. So when the first of the sentries swung his sword at my neck, there wasn’t a single soul in those woods to help me.”
“Please,” Lucien said, a smile of his own now tugging at his lips. “It’s not like you needed any help.”
Vassa offered him a grin—then turned to Elain, her next words preventing her from analysing how in the hell the Huntsman’s own daughter befriended someone like Lucien Vanserra as she added, “When Eris found me, my hair was sticky with blood and my fingers half-frozen from the snow.” Elain shuddered. “But I survived. The fire he’d cast brought me back from the cold death I was succumbing too. I knew who he was right away—I recognised the magic still haunting the halls of the home I was exiled from.” She shook her head, her curls grazing her collarbone slightly. “He knew who I was, too, and what my family had done to his own. I was dying, defenceless and his enemy. But Eris did not kill me,” she said, “He helped me up.”
“He told me the truth—about everything. Had proven it, too, because as much as I hated my father, I still believed the lies he’d been telling me my entire life. You all showed me another way,” she said to Lucien, a small smile lighting up her face before she turned back to Elain. “I’ve been by their side ever since.”
“And we owe you a lifetime’s debt for it,” Lucien said.
Vassa tilted her head slightly. “There are no debts among friends, Lucien.”
“All this to say,” she said to Elain, “I know why you hate them—why you probably hate me right now, too. But I’ve seen true monsters, Elain, and they don’t look like the males who have stolen you from New Prythian.” That sadness returned to her stare as she told her, “They look like the man whose eyes you see in the mirror every morning.”
Elain studied her face. “And I suppose Eris will show me the truth,” she said slowly—then turned to Lucien. “He is your brother,” she added, remembering the familial term Eris had called him back in the tent.
“He is,” Lucien agreed.
“Older?”
Vassa snorted.
Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “You wound me, little fawn.”
“Stop calling me that,” Elain told him.
“As you wish, Princess.”
“Gods, I don’t know which is worse,” Elain grimaced. She continued, though, curiosity getting the better of her, “Eris called you the seventh son of the Autumn Court—the old Braemar,” she clarified. “Would that not make him…” she hesitated, not entirely sure whether the words she’d learned from her old history books were truly a spell of some sorts—a spell that would bring them back to life.
Lucien hummed. “Are you afraid, Elain?”
If she admitted it, he would probably call her something infuriating like little fawn again. So she told him, “No.”
Lucien smiled knowingly. “Then ask me the question.”
Elain pushed through the words. “Is Eris the High Lord of the Autumn Court?”
“Yes,” Lucien simply told her. “He is.”
Elain’s shoulders tensed.
“If it helps, it was a shock to me, too,” Vassa chimed in.
“I thought the High Lords were all dead,” Elain said, hating the quiet hollowness invading her tone.
“He is the last one, as far as we’re aware,” Lucien explained matter-of-factly. “But he doesn’t wish to be addressed as such—not while the humans are still living in our home.” He added, “Our father was killed shortly after the War, and the rest of our brothers followed shortly after. The ancient magic became Eris’s, and he became the High Lord.” A shadow passed through his handsome features. “A High Lord without land, without subjects, without family. As the humans took over, our magic dwindled, too. The things we were once able to do are now all but a distinct memory. Eris will not call himself High Lord until that magic—until everything—is returned to us.”
He looked at Elain. “That is why you’re here, little fawn,” he crooned. “You’re going to help us get it back.”
The carriage halted with the words—and Elain realised the rocky path had finally ended. They had somehow ended up in the middle of a forest, so golden and bright she had to squint before she took it all in—before she noticed the leaves, gleaming with health and all the shades of auburn and red, the wooden pillars forming a circle around the clearing stretching right before them.
A dozen balls of fire cackled to life atop the pillars, prompted by a magic so ancient Elain could practically taste it on her tongue.
“Welcome,” Lucien’s voice sounded behind her, rich and deep, as if brought to life by this strange place, too. “To the Vanserra Hold.”
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banana-breaded · 10 months
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I think its extremely clever
how, in “The Titan’s Curse”, Artemis is shown to typically present herself as a 12 year old girl. Yes, this is reflective of her followers and whatnot, but it also is very effective in sending a message: “I have chosen eternal maidenhood; I am not available.”
In short, no adult, mortal or otherwise, is even going to entertain the notion of trying to court her. It would be too weird, even if she is essentially timeless.
This is only reinforced by the fact that this is not her true form as is seen in “The Blood of Olympus” on Delos. Delos was the birthplace of Artemis and Apollo and therefore a place so sacred to them it warded off the effects of the Greek/Roman war. In other words, it let them sustain their forms as their original, truest selfs, though they could dress themselves however they wanted and use whatever items they desired, modern or not.
Since Artemis’ form was of “the same age” as Apollo’s when Leo and co. encountered them, I’ve always assumed that said form and its age was a diluted, similar version of what her true form would be when it is lethally revealed. This emphasizes that her chosen form as a young girl is undoubtedly intentional.
As for Apollo, the thing that always stood out to me about his presentation is how quickly he changed from “cool, laid-back guy” in “The Titan’s Curse” to “gullible, whiny brat” in “The Blood of Olympus” and the first half of the “Trials of Apollo” series. Furthermore, the way he speaks progresses from modern lingo to more stiff, dated diction as the series change.
I don’t think this is a flaw in the storytelling, I think it’s more of a subtle world building device. In “The Titan’s Curse”, his purpose was aiding a group of teens. It was no skin off of his back to do so, so he was in good spirits, and he obviously aimed to impress. Subsequently, he took on an attitude that would resonate with his audience and spoke in a way that was familiar to them. He could afford to be carefree and “cool”, and since showing off was his main priority he did so.
This doesn’t mean he wasn’t petulant and easily fooled at that time, just that he made an effort to hide those traits (assuming her recognized them at all, alternatively they just weren’t relevant enough to reveal themselves in the circumstances).
Fast forward to “The Blood of Olympus” when he clearly doesn’t care about how Leo, Frank, and Hazel view him because he’s too busy wallowing in self pity and therefore his negative qualities are quite clearly on display. Also note, his language here is more similar to the formal style he uses in “The Trials of Apollo”, which can explained using the same logic used for Artemis’ older form.
I believe this is how he most naturally talks (the fact that its in English can be attributed to Olympus’ westernization, though I do think in his true form he would speak Greek) and that being on Delos means his speech is at its most genuine.
Obviously his attitude can be explained by the fact that things aren’t going well for him, and will continue to not do so for a little over 6 months (the Trials). During this period, even though he finds himself inhabiting the mortal teen form of Lester, he will continue to use his dated lingo and come off as initially unpleasant. This makes sense as he has little to no control as to how he presents himself as a mortal and it bodes that he can’t readily switch to an up-to-date-charismatic-mode.
Of course, it was abundantly clear that at first, he wasn’t in the mood to anyway.
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c-e-d-dreamer · 1 year
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I told myself I was going to work on my chaptered WIPs after dinner today, but instead, I saw this TikTok on my FYP and was instantly like I need to write this. So I did write this. Enjoy maybe? I don't even know
“We're sorry ladies and gentlemen, but due to the bad weather at our destination, we will be delayed again. We will now begin boarding at 8:40. Thank you.”
Nesta barely swallows down her sigh, and a number of groans and grumbles echo around her, clearly mirroring her annoyance and souring mood. Three hours. They're delayed another three hours. It's just the cherry on top of an already stressful travel day.
She digs her phone out of her bag and quickly sends a text in the groupchat with her sisters, giving them an update on her flight status. With that done, she spends some time scrolling aimlessly through social media, already mentally chastising herself for not packing a backup book into her carry-on. She should've known. She should've known everything that could go wrong, would, and she'd be stuck sitting at her gate for hours with her book already finished from the first hour delay.
Rather than stare at the walls for the next three hours, Nesta thumbs through her apps until she finds Tinder, knowing that will at least provide some entertainment while she waits. As soon as the app loads, she starts judging and swiping. Shirtless photo with the face cut off? Swipe. Group photos of generic looking white dudes where you can't even tell who the profile is even for? Swipe. Photo with an obvious ex? Swipe. Photo from the gym? Swipe.
“Wow,” a voice says from behind Nesta, making her jump. “You didn’t even want to think about it a bit more before swiping? Looked like a great guy to me.”
Nesta twists in her seat, and to her horror, comes face to face with the exact man she just swiped left on. He has his hair scraped back into a bun rather than down the way he had in his picture, and this close, Nesta realizes his eyes are a bright hazel, the gold of them seeming to flicker in amusement under the harsh airport lighting. But despite the slight differences, there’s no denying it’s most definitely him.
Nesta is sure her face must be the picture perfect of embarrassment, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. She can feel the tell-tale signs of a blush creeping up her neck and threatening to spill across her cheeks, but she quickly schools her features into a scowl instead. From the smirk that tugs up the left corner of the man’s lips, he’s clearly clocked it anyways.
“Gym rat isn’t really my type,” Nesta tells him primly.
“Is that so?” the man laughs, the sound warm and seeming to rumble deep from within his chest. “You didn’t even swipe through all the photos either. The third one is a nice photo with a dog. Doesn’t that show I’m a caring guy?”
“I think it shows that you try too hard on your dating profile.”
“You know, just for that, I’m going to remove my like,” the man shoots back, tossing Nesta a wink when he takes in her surprise. “That’s right, sweetheart. If you had swiped right, it would have been a match.”
“Oh, no. Whatever will I do now?” Nesta remarks dryly with a roll of her eyes.
The man laughs again, stretching out his hand over the backs of their seats toward her. “Cassian by the way, since it looked like you swiped too fast to even read my name.”
Nesta scoffs, but she slides her hand into Cassian’s. His hands are much larger than hers, practically swallowing hers whole as his fingers curl around her hand. The calluses of them slide against her palm, but his hand is warm and steady, and for a moment, she swears her blood heats from the contact, that some flame deep within rises to meet him, to greet him as though her very soul seems to recognize him.
“So what has you flying to Velaris?” Cassian asks when he pulls his hand back.
“Family,” Nesta explains, shifting in her seat to face him properly. “My sister lives there, so I’m flying out for her engagement party.”
“Same for me. Both my brothers live in Velaris, so I’m flying home for them. Well, Rhys in particular, but…” Cassian says with an easy shrug before reaching his hand up and rubbing it almost nervously along the back of his neck. “Anyways, you know with the delay, they technically have to give us food and drink vouchers now. Want to go check out one of the bars?”
Nesta can’t stop the surprise laugh that tears past her lips, refusing to acknowledge the warm feeling that blooms in her gut when Cassian’s face lights up at the sound. “Are you asking me on a date? In an airport?”
“Absolutely,” Cassian agrees, his grin wide. “Do you have anything better to do for the next three hours?”
Nesta blinks once, twice, but she can’t say he’s wrong. Not to mention, that after spending so long dealing with the lines and the delays at the airport, she could definitely go for a big glass of wine.
“Alright, fine. I'm in,” Nesta agrees, standing up and gathering her things.
Cassian's grin widens even more somehow, the greens and golds of his hazel eyes seeming to alight as he stands up as well, shouldering his backpack. They retrieve their vouchers from the worker behind the counter, and then Cassian offers his arm toward Nesta like they're in the countryside of some period movie and not the middle of the crowded, dingy airport in the twenty-first century. Nesta raises an eyebrow at the gesture, but she settles her hand in the crook of his elbow nonetheless, letting Cassian lead them away from their gate and toward one of the airport bars.
Nesta hates to admit it, but she ends up having a good time with Cassian. Despite Nesta's correct assessment of him being a gym rat, he tells her about the gym he owns and operates, the classes that he teaches there. She tells him about her own job, about the law firm she's working at and some of her past cases, and he actually seems interested, asks her questions and listens. But more than anything, for every dry remark, every quip, she throws his direction, he doesn't balk or get offended. Instead, he rises to the challenge, laughing and smirking and throwing his own suggestive comments right back at her. For as much as he has her rolling her eyes in fond annoyance, he has her laughing too. It’s easy in a way it probably shouldn’t be, but Nesta doesn’t mind.
Almost too quickly, the three hours pass, and Nesta and Cassian make it back to their gate. Thankfully, their plane is actually boarding now. Cassian has a higher boarding number than Nesta on his ticket, so she expects that to be the end of their chance encounter today, but when she steps onto the plane, Cassian waves her down.
“Saved you a seat,” Cassian explains, gesturing to the open seat beside him.
Nesta glances at the seats further down the plane, at the line of people waiting behind her expectantly. She steels her nerves and slides her bag into the overhead compartment, settling into the seat beside Cassian after all. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long after she’s seated for the plane to finish boarding and takeoff. Nesta prepares to settle in for the flight, but to her surprise, Cassian takes two sets of headphones from the flight attend when she offers them.
“So what movie do you want to watch?” Cassian asks, touching through to the entertainment options on the screen in front of him.
“You know you can’t plug two sets of headphones in, right?”
“True, but I can hit play on both our screens at the exact same time.”
Nesta snorts quietly at that, but she doesn’t say anything more as Cassian pulls up a movie on both their screens, lets him plug in both sets of headphones and takes the ones plugged into her screen. She has to bite her lip around a laugh while Cassian hovers a finger over both screens, ensuring he presses play at the exact same time on both.
Nesta relaxes back to watch the movie, but it’s not long before the stress of the day catches up with her, exhaustion digging deep into her bones and pulling her under. She tries to focus on the actors on the screen, on the dialogue and the story, but her eyes feel heavier and heavier with each passing minute. She decides to close her eyes, just for a few minutes.
When Nesta opens her eyes again, the screen in front of her is black, and a quick glance toward Cassian’s screen shows a new movie playing. Her head is nestled against his shoulder, his arm wrapped snuggly around her shoulders and fingers drawing senseless patterns against her bicep. Nesta knows that she should move, that she should sit up, but she’s so comfortable, so warm. With each relaxed inhale in and exhale out, it doesn’t take much coaxing for Nesta to fall back asleep again.
Nesta wakes again when a gentle hand on her shoulder rouses her. She blinks her eyes a few times before Cassian’s face comes into focus, and he offers her a small, soft smile.
“We made it to Velaris,” Cassian explains quietly. “Just landed.”
Nesta nods her head and sits up, rubbing at her eyes and the remnants of sleep still clinging there. The plane starts to deboard, and they both clamber out of their seats, Cassian getting Nesta’s bag down for her. They follow the signs to baggage claim, waiting until bags start to drop down onto the carousel. Nesta spots her bag first. She goes to grab it, but Cassian pulls it off the carousel for her. It doesn’t take his own bag long to appear, and he grabs that too.
With both their bags now in hand, Nesta turns toward him, realizing that this is it. This is the end of their unexpected traveling together. That now they’ll go their separate ways in Velaris. That now she’ll probably never again see Cassian and his hazel eyes and his easy grins, never hear his suggestive barbs and his warm laughter.
“Well, I guess this is goodbye then,” Nesta tells him, surprising even herself with the way she feels… disappointed, the way her heart prickles and squeezes between her ribs.
“I guess it is,” Cassian agrees, leaning down and pressing a kiss against Nesta’s cheek. “Enjoy Velaris, Nes.”
Cassian turns and heads for the airport doors, leaving Nesta standing there and blinking in shock after him. She reaches a hand up, pressing her fingers against the spot he had kissed her, only the ding of her phone finally pulling her back to reality. She digs it out of her bag, finding a text message from a new contact blinking up at her.
Airport Hottie
Maybe next time, you’ll swipe right ;)
Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist​ @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430​ @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @cassiansbigwingspan
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bloodsuckingfiends · 3 months
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Of Blood & Stars ~ Prologue
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A/N: The prologue is short, as it's just kind of setting things up to be a little more interesting. The actual chapters I plan on being at least 2K words each. Anyways... I'm so excited to be writing about my Tav and sharing her with people!
Surrounded by a wreckage of flames and metal, Elendil pulled herself up from the scraps. A warmth bloomed across her forehead, just beneath her hairline, and slowly trickled down the bridge of her nose and then cheek. She smudged a hand across it, and pulled away to find crimson staining her skin, her face contorting into a grimace at the sight. She’d have to take care of it later. The crash was intense to say the least, she was bound to have a few extra scars in the end. Thank the Gods this one felt quite minor in comparison to some wounds she has borne in the past. Elendil’s eyes scan the wreck around her, searching and quickly finding an exit that opens up to a sandy beach. 
Elendil’s head pounded, a terrible throbbing that only progressed as she approached a survivor, a half-elf named Shadowheart, on the beach, and then again when the two approached the stone sigil that held an eclectic wizard. No doubt, the pain was contributed by the delightful tadpole wriggling behind their eyes, and perhaps that same tadpole explained who she had thought she had seen on the ship. There was an ache in her chest, just at the thought. Sometimes her mind seemed to enjoy playing terribly cruel tricks on her, giving her glances at what she so terribly missed, but couldn’t have. It was too often that she had to remind herself; he’s dead. Gone. Not yet reincarnated. Her fingers immediately went to her pocket, where they worried away at the soft needle work of embroidered flowers lining a handkerchief. It often felt as though it was all she had left of him, the fabric never far from her, just as she thought he would be. How wrong she was.
Short, quick breaths leave her lungs in a panic, and hazel eyes darted around the ship, searching for an escape, a weapon, something to aid her. Rather than something, they land on someone. She must have been hit over the head quite hard if she’s seeing him. Or perhaps she was drugged. A Mindflayer steps into her view, promptly cutting off her thoughts when a nasty squirming parasite is suddenly being moved towards her eye. There’s a moment of pain, before unconsciousness takes its hold on her once again.
“I suppose we should go speak to him then? Looks like another survivor.” Gale muses, shaking Elendil from her thoughts. So the elf she was seeing was indeed real and not a figment of her imagination. She was convinced now that it had to be someone who looked quite similar, or perhaps a trick of the worm. 
“ I suppose we should” she says in agreement as she continues toward the male. 
As they approached, he took notice, only glancing quickly back at them before swiftly turning back to whatever it was that he was looking at.
“Hurry, I’ve got one of those brain things cornered.” His voice catches her by surprise.
“There, in the grass. You can kill it, can’t you? Like you killed the others?”
Still, even as she comes up just behind him, he doesn’t turn. She looks around for whatever it is he’s looking at, coming up with nothing,
“Hm…. you seem pretty capable.” Elendil hums, before turning on her heel towards her newfound companions.
She made it merely 10 feet before she felt an arm wrap around her waist, and a leg bringing hers out from under her. Within seconds, she had a dagger delicately pressed to the thin skin of her throat, and burgundy eyes looking into hers from just inches away. Her breath hitches in her and her heart feels as though it may beat out of her chest. It can’t be. It’s not possible yet she would be able to recognize those eyes anywhere, regardless of the color. His eyes. But it couldn’t be. It was completely impossible. He was gone. Dead. She had visited his grave almost daily. Sobbed for hours over the empty space his absence had left in her heart and soul.
“Astarion-”
“Tav-'' he says her adolescent name like a whisper. Softly, like he can’t believe who he has pressed beneath his weapon at this moment. His eyes darted about her features, searching for something to prove wholly that this is indeed her, and finding that proof in the freckle above her arched brow. Elendil’s heart squeezes at the name. 
“Tav? Who’s Tav?” Gale questions Shadowheart, effectively breaking the tense silence.
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icallhimjoey · 2 years
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I swear it's been my 2nd day having flu and fever, during my bed-rest sometimes I think about lil Hazel being sick as well and she keeps sleeping on Joey's chest all night to get some kind of warmth and comfort.. Would you please put it into words for me, sweetie? ILYSM IT HURTS.
ok so this is the Joe that holds most potential to make me actually cry, so KNOW the power you hold with these little baby Hazel requests Wordcount: 1.2K
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Everything’s Right
 “Something’s wrong,” you said to Joe, tears thick in your eyes, threateningly close to spilling over and out, rolling down your cheeks.
They were definitely tears from helplessness, sheer frustration and the overstimulation from Hazel’s touches and wails. You were crying, and you couldn’t stop because Hazel was crying and she couldn’t stop. 
“Not the both of you,” Joe was quick to kick his shoes off and hurried over to where you were sat on the sofa with Hazel on your lap. His girls, both crying. 
She felt hot, Joe could tell. Hotter than usual. Crying for over fifteen minutes would get Hazel all hot and sticky with sweat, but this was different. And she’d been crying for longer you told him, and nothing you could think to do would make it stop. 
You knew she was congested. You thought she might have a headache from said congestion, and you also thought she was running a fever by the feel of her. When you tried to lay her down for a nap, which she so desperately needed still but wouldn’t accept anymore, she showcased a nasty cough that must’ve hurt her little throat terribly. Since then, she didn’t want to be put down in her bed, and so you’d just held her the rest of the day.
“Baby, it’s okay,” You said baby, even though you were very aware she was nearing in on two-and-a-half, but she was still your baby. Especially in moments like this when she didn’t know what she wanted or what she needed. One moment she squirmed to be put down, and then the next she was screaming because you weren’t holding her. 
Patience. You could hear your own mother’s voice echo in your mind as she always used to say it to herself whenever she’d be driven to the edge by you and your brother when you were younger. 
It was awful that Hazel couldn’t tell you what was wrong yet. Not properly anyway. If you asked her if she was in pain, she nodded and told you yes. If you asked her where she was hurting, she just cried more. 
Joe wasn’t sure if taking her from you was going to help Hazel at all, but he knew it’d help you, so it was the first thing he did. “Come here,” Hazel accepted being handed off by you without any resistance and new hands wrapping her seemed to instantly calm her down, albeit temporarily. Like she knew you were also trying to find solutions for whatever was wrong with her, and now it wasn’t just you anymore. You had back up.  
“It’s just a cold,” Joe said, reaching a hand over and touching your face, wiping your cheek dry with his thumb. You knew that’s what it might have been, but Hazel has had colds before, and it had never been like this.
“She won’t take any medicine,” you sniffed.
Explaining it to Hazel as best you could, with big, important, slow words, and offering rewards after hadn’t worked. Then, you had tried to get the medicine into her system with force and had broken your own heart in the process. It still hadn’t worked. 
“Have you tried steaming up the bathroom?” Joe asked, remembering how he had once held Hazel in a hot shower for over two hours when she was much smaller. 
You shook your head, and said you didn’t think that would really work still, but Joe was instantly up on his feet with Hazel tucked tightly against his chest. Hazel was the perfect height to tuck underneath your chin which would leave her legs to wrap at the most comfortable spot around your waist. 
“Come on little lady,” Joe hoisted her off to the bathroom and you were surprised he wasn’t met with deafening screams from her. 
You weren’t sure when exactly Hazel had become a daddy’s girl, but there had to have been a tipping point along the line somewhere. The comfort she sometimes couldn’t find with you, she’d find with Joe. But lately, she had craved a lot more of Joe’s attention than yours. As long as Joe didn’t mind, you didn’t mind, but it could really sting your heart when all you wanted were baby Hazel cuddles and all she wanted was snuggles from Joe. Joe would often rope you into those snuggles and, even though in Joe’s arms, you’d still get you fix. 
Just like you were about to now.
“I said, come on little lady,” Joe stood by the door and waved you over with his free hand. Calling you little lady was exactly what Joe shouldn’t have done had he wanted to make you stop crying. 
A little while later you were all sat in the bathroom with the door shut and the shower on. You had turned it up as hot as it could go, shooting water directly down the drain behind the curtain, which felt very wasteful, but if it was going to help Hazel, you would leave it on all night if you had to. 
Joe was sitting with his back against the door, legs crisscrossed in front of him, with Hazel sat on his lap. Her back was resting against his stomach, and you weren’t sure if it was the steam that slowly filled the room or the white noise the shower gave, but you could see Hazel was starting to slowly doze off.
“It’s working,” you whispered, afraid that anything louder would trigger Hazel, and you saw Joe hug her tighter as he pressed kisses into the top of her head. 
You were sitting opposite Joe, hugging your knees as you rested your head on them, and you just watched Hazel’s breathing. Erratic from crying for so long, but definitely slowing down and becoming deeper. And she wasn’t coughing. And her mouth was closed, which meant her airways were free. She looked peaceful for the first time that day.
“What’s wrong?” Joe asked you, his voice barely loud enough to speak over the sound of the shower, and you snapped out of your thoughts to realise you had started crying again. 
“Nothing,” you smiled at him. “Everything’s right.” 
“C’mere,” Joe very carefully scooted over slightly, making room for you to sit next to him, and when you crawled over, Joe pulled you in tight. 
“You know we can do things together, right?” Joe started, and you knew what he was going to say. “I’m but a phone call away,” 
“I know,” you used the back of your hand to rub at the underside of your nose.
“So, stop thinking the entire world’s on your shoulders,” Joe nudged you, and you knew he was right, but you couldn’t just change that for yourself. Not in a day, not in a week… that was something that time was going to have to fix. 
“I’ve got half of it on here now,” Joe jokingly raised one shoulder after the other and got a wet smile out of you.
“She’s asleep,” you said after peeking at Hazel’s rosy tearstained cheeks that served as a shelf for her long eyelashes as her eyes were closed. You wanted to get up to turn the shower off, but Joe’s arm around your shoulder stayed in place. 
“Yea, but you’re awake still,” And like before, Joe was right. You didn’t need to fall asleep, but it would serve you well to let the steam relax you too. Joe’s sweet words made the last tears within you escape your eyes. He was honestly too much sometimes.
“Everything right, still?” Joe checked in after a while, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 
“Yea. Everything’s right.” 
—–
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