#stole this straight from stop-it-anxiety

[darklordofthesimp]

Ipseity (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader)

Part of the "Anything" verse, can be read as a standalone.

Summary: When the 141 has to make a choice between saving you or a fellow sniper, you know that your time has come to an end.

A/N: This was meant to be a short filler and now it's like 4.5k long. Hope you're all happy.

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Graphic Language | Graphic Violence | Gun Violence | Graphic Description of Injury

The ringing in your ears woke you up. 

It was a high-pitched squeal that scrambled your thoughts and made your head pound. You couldn't think straight, you couldn't get past the overwhelming dizziness whenever you tried to raise your chin.

Blood stung your eyes. Your chest burned. You hadn’t been in this much pain in years, every pinch of your nerves prodded at long-forgotten childhood memories. They were things that had been left behind from before you enlisted, things that no longer mattered. What mattered was that you were tied to a chair and barely breathing. 

You were going to die here. 

And nobody was coming to save you. 

"Oh,” someone crooned from behind your seat. You didn’t have the strength to turn your neck and you thanked whatever cruel deity was listening that you hadn’t flinched. The least you could do was fake some courage for what was to come. 

“Come back for more?” Your mouth was dry, wretchedly so. You wanted to gag and spit, but there was no moisture in your mouth- it was like sandpaper. 

“There’s not much left in you for me to take, Sol,” Valeria said, her fingers trailing the length of your shoulder. Your body shivered beneath her touch as she slowly circled your chair, a cruel smile tugging at the corner of her lips. 

“Oh, I’ve always got something left for you, gorgeous,” you chuckled, flashing the drug lord a weak grin. 

She snorted, the harsh light of the overhead lamp illuminating the edges of her features. She was a sharp woman, Valeria, somebody that you secretly admired. Not for her deeds or the atrocities she’d committed, but for her tenacity and her ambition- there was no stopping her. 

“You’ve always been my favourite sniper, you know,” Valeria mused, pulling her hand from your skin to inspect it. Your blood stained her fingers, thick and warm from where it had oozed from your wounds.

“You usually kill your favourite snipers?” You tried to raise your eyebrow but sharp pain ripped through your face, you realized dimly that the skin of your forehead had been split.

“Only when they steal things that belong to me, Luz,” Valeria whispered, pressing her hands against the armrests and leaning in. “Then, I kill them.” 

“We didn’t do it,” you met her gaze evenly, the false claim falling easily from your lips. 

“You’d die a liar to protect your friends,” she nodded thoughtfully. “It’s unfortunate that they have chosen not to give you the same courtesy.” 

You frowned, taken aback by the statement. You suspected that the 141 wouldn’t be there in time, you’d come to terms with the fact that your journey might end here. But, the way she’d said it… it was as if you were missing something. 

Valeria’s brows raised, eyes wide as she mocked your surprise with a gasp. “Oh, I must have forgotten to mention it earlier.” 

“Mention what?” You ground out through your teeth. 

The drug lord huffed a laugh, pushing off from your seat and standing upright. Sweat began to form in a thin sheen across your skin, anxiety running rampant through your system. 

What did she mean? 

Valeria’s eyes hardened as she tutted under her breath, pulling the blade on her thigh from its sheath. When her attention turned back to you, the malice in her gaze made your spine straighten. 

“What you stole from me,” she began, pointing the knife towards your face, “got someone very close to me killed.” 

You swallowed thickly, your throat like gravel and your tongue like concrete. 

The woman was seething now, the cool facade that she’d worn had melted into pure vitriol and hatred. It was an expression you’d never seen on her but on so many others throughout the years, it was the stare of someone who blamed you for their loss. 

“So, as penance,” Valeria pressed the tip of the blade to rest against your chest, “your Task Force will have to lose one of their own- even after they bring me the information.” 

“What-” 

“We have the other sniper,” the drug lord shrugged. “The little broken one.” 

Your heart stalled in your chest, fear dousing your body like a bucket of ice water. Blood rushed through your ears, loud and roaring and all-consuming with the sound. You couldn’t think straight, the image of your colleague being tortured flashed across your vision like a spotlight. 

“Birdy.” You whispered the name but it sounded like a plea rather than a statement. Valeria must have heard the begging in your voice because she only smiled. 

“Birdy,” she confirmed, with a smug tilt of her head. 

God, please no. 

“Let them go!” You lurched against your restraints. 

The latina's eyes were like stone, hard and unyielding. She was in pain, she was hurting and now it was her chance to hurt you all for what you’d done.

“I will,” she nodded her head soothingly, fingers coming to trace your trembling jaw. You snatched your face from her touch and she raised a brow. When she leaned back with a sigh, you knew what was coming. 

Valeria struck you hard. 

The wounds on your face screamed and it felt like someone was making you gargle molten lava. Your eyes watered but you made no sound, you gave her nothing to indicate that she’d hurt you. 

“The 141 will bring me what they stole,” Valeria sucked in a breath, watching you from beneath her lashes. “But they can only save one of you.” 

Your eyes widened. 

They can only save one of you. 

You knew then that you were going to die here. 

“What’s the matter, pequeño sol?” Valeria spoke with a mocking lilt. Your body trembled. “You don’t think they will come for you?” 

“No.” 

The word was soft and broken and you wondered if the drug lord had even heard it. The way that her smile wavered implied that she did. 

“No,” she nodded, standing straight. “Neither do I.”

If you hadn’t been so shattered, you would have seen the glimmer of pity pass over her features. 

You took in a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself, "will you keep your word?"

"What?" 

"Will you keep your word?" You repeated firmly. No one was stupid enough to trust the word of a drug lord but right there and then you would take it as law. If you were going to die you needed to know that Birdy would be safe. 

Your eyes bore into hers. Valeria swallowed and you could see her hesitation, the desire to spit on the dying flame in your chest and put it out. 

Instead, the woman only nodded. 

"I will." 

Instantly, you relaxed in your seat and leaned your head back with a sigh. You closed your eyes, fighting the tears that had gathered along your lashes. 

This was it. 

This was the end of it. 

You weren't stupid enough to expect anyone to come save you, not when Birdy's life hung in the balance. There was never a doubt about who was more valued on the team, despite your skills you'd never be able to contend with Birdy's spot on the team. 

It wasn't about who was better, it was about who was loved. 

And nobody in the 141 loved you more than they loved Birdy. 

No one. 

Your lips trembled and you fury rose like a volcanic eruption from within your chest. You would not die crying. You would not die without dignity. 

"I'll be leaving to retrieve my package," Valeria sighed, sheathing her knife. "Once the handover is made, my men will put you down."

You grinned.

"After all we've been through," you feigned hurt. "I thought you'd want to do the honors, gorgeous." 

But Valeria didn't bite. She didn't laugh nor did she retaliate, the woman only watched you with an unreadable expression. 

"We are the same, me and you, Sunshine." The drug lord stood tall, "Deberías haber sido valorado. Morir con orgullo."

You blinked dumbly.  "I don't know what the fuck you said but I'm going to assume you think I'm hot and that you regret not sleeping with me before I die." 

Valeria rolled her eyes and turned away. 

"You act tough, Sol. Don't die thinking this is anything but a betrayal."

Betrayal. 

You offered nothing but a snort, laughing the chill of her words off your spine.

The woman left the room and immediately the silence was overwhelming. There was no one to lie to now, no one to throw your facade at. You found yourself almost asking her to stay as she closed the door behind her, biting your tongue to reserve your dignity. But, you didn't want to be alone, not when the end was approaching so quickly.

 Though, you guess you'd done this to yourself. 

Always good, but never enough. König was your best friend, but you knew he'd leave you in a heartbeat to save the sniper he truly loved- you couldn't ask any differently from him. 

After all, if it had been between him and Ghost, you were sure you'd make the same decision. 

A pathetic tragedy in itself considering the feeling wasn't mutual.

Simon Riley loved Birdy, just as the rest of them did.

You would never compare, you'd never come close, not with your ambitious demeanor- not with your shitty attitude. You'd never allowed yourself to view them as family and when they'd tried to include you, you hadn't let them in. 

If your own family had wronged you, your own flesh and blood, what would the 141 do any differently?

By the looks of the situation: nothing. 

No one was coming to save you. 

The burning beneath your lids became so aggressive you wanted to tear the skin from your face. You wanted to gouge out your eyes, just so that the only thing dripping would be blood- not tears. 

Never tears. 

You were not Birdy, you did not cry. 

You were not Birdy. 

You'd never be Birdy. 

The pressure in your chest grew and swelled and suffocated, extinguishing the fire you'd kept burning for years. Through everything, you'd held strong. Through hellfire and brimstone, you'd crawled your way across death and misfortune to emerge from the ashes stronger. 

You did not break. Not until now. 

A scream ripped from your chest, unrecognizable. It wasn't you who wailed, it was the child inside who mourned their life. It was the adult who'd never been loved the way they'd prayed for in the dead of the night.

Never enough.

Never enough for König, the man who always found himself by Birdy's side, chasing for the crumbs of their attention.

Never enough for Simon Riley, who'd taken your heart and crushed it every time he watched you with distaste- with disappointment.   

You were never the priority. 

Never his priority. 

You'd never be anything to Ghost, not the way Birdy was.

But you were not Birdy and you'd not die wishing that you were. 

You pulled at your restraints, thrashing in your chair with renewed energy. While you knew it was unlikely you'd escape, at least you'd be put down fighting. 

"Hey!" One of Valeria's henchmen shouted. 

You struggled harder, the skin of your wrists ripping from beneath the ties. Fresh blood trailed down your fingers and you smeared it wherever you could reach, wetting the braided rope until it was slick with crimson rage.

Your heart jumped as your hands slipped through the restraints, the gory lubrication helping you pull your crumpled fingers free. 

"Stop!" The cool metal of a barrel pressed against your forehead, putting an instant halt on your plans. 

You glared up at the man before you, his eyes were hard but his hand trembled, the weapon jittering against your skull. 

"I will fucking paint this room with your brains," he hissed, the cigarette in his mouth jolting with each word. "Try me, I dare you." 

"If the 141 comes with the package and I'm dead, Valeria will butcher your entire family, cabrón." You were careful as you spoke, enunciating each word as clearly as you could muster. 

The butt of his weapon struck your cheek hard enough to send stars skittering across your vision. 

"I speak," the man hissed, "not you."

"I'm trying to warn you-" 

He hit you again, this time harder. You felt your teeth dislodge from in your mouth and panic gripped your heart as they slid down your throat. 

"I said don't speak!" He shouted, the words warbled as your vision spun. Your head lolled to the side, gagging as you choked on your own bones. Bile speared through your chest as a combination of blood and stomach acid hit the floor weakly. Your teeth clattered across the ground, like dice rolling across the board. 

"Ricky!" The man called over his shoulder. "Alguna palabra sobre el paquete?

"Aún nada, hermano."

"Mierda! ¿Por qué tarda tanto?"

The conversation fell on deaf ears as you fought to keep yourself conscious. Your hands were freed but now the element of surprise was lost and there was a barrel pressed against your face. 

"I should kill you right now," the man spat in English. "You fucking murdered my brothers like a coward."

"They should learn to duck," you shrugged weakly. 

This time when he hit you, it threw your seat backward. You hadn't been able to move your hands in time before the weight of your body and the steel spines of the chair slammed against your forearms. 

A sickening crunch reverberated through the room, echoing like the toll of a church bell and while that was loud, your scream was deafening. 

"Let's be honest with ourselves, Sunshine," the man laughed, watching you as you writhed and sobbed. "Nobody is coming to save you." 

He cocked the weapon slowly, leaning down to press the barrel against your forehead once again. You couldn't even keep your eyes open as you struggled for breath, choking on your own spit and blood as you shrieked. You wanted to watch him, you wanted to go down with defiance- but fear gripped your throat so tightly you were choking on it.

You weren't going to die fighting. 

You were going to die suffering. 

When the gunshot came, your body recoiled so hard that your head smashed the concrete beneath you. In that horrible moment of silence that followed, you wondered if there was no peace even in death. Agony ripped through your nervous system, every inch of your body screamed for relief. 

If this was death, then you were in hell. 

"Think again, cunt."

The distinct cockney accent had your spine straightening and your eyes snapping open. 

The gun clattered beside your head, unfired. 

You weren't dead. 

"Sunshine!"

You were being saved. 

"Talk to me, Sunshine!" 

The voice was so far away, he was too far away, he wasn't going to make it. You weren't going to make it. The man on the floor next to you must have sat back up because you could feel his hands gripping your shoulders, the gun rattling in your ears. 

Fingers gripped your face, jostling you from your semi-conscious state. Your vision was blurred by your own blood and tears, the figure before you a mess of shadows. You screamed, trying to pull your broken arms from beneath the chair to defend yourself until help got to you. 

Searing hot pain ran up the lengths of your arms and stabbed into your neck. You gagged, a low bellow wrenching from your throat as you heaved. 

"Stop! Stop! Don't move!" 

"Get away from me!" You wailed, voice shrill and unhinged. You tugged again and this time his hands came down on your shoulders. 

"SUNSHINE!"

The roar of your name made your entire body freeze, clutching you by the throat with the desperation behind the callsign. You closed your eyes, a whimper falling from your lips to taint your dignity. 

"Jesus." He sounded like Ghost. It couldn't have been him but, God, you wished it was. "Come on, Sweetheart. Look at me." 

"I can't see," you wept. 

His thumbs swept over your face, gloves wiping the blood from where it had settled on your lids and lashes. You tried again, blinking the crimson liquid from your eyes as best you could. You imagined that you looked a sight, the whites of your eyes a deep red, stained with evidence of your injuries. Finally, your vision settled. 

Simon stared back at you, eyes wide. 

You gasped. 

"Simon?" You slurred, his name broken on your lips. 

"Yeah, Sunshine. S'me." He murmured distractedly. His fingers were twitching on your neck, scanning the rest of your body for injuries.

Your heart was beating against your ribs, sudden anxiety flooding your being.  If he was here it meant that they'd brought the package to you rather than to Birdy. 

That meant… 

"No, no, no," you whispered as the Lieutenant lifted the chair with one hand, pulling your broken hands from behind your back. "No, no, Simon, what're you doing here?" 

Ghost recoiled slightly, a frown overtaking his features. "The fuck do you mean?" 

"Birdy," you rasped, a sob building in your chest. "You need to get Birdy. What about Birdy?" 

"Birdy's-" 

You fought to stand up, pushing him out of the way as you stumbled to your feet. Your body swayed side to side as your vision swam, but you weren't going down- not again. 

"Need a gat. Need Birdy- we can't lose Birdy. Everybody needs Birdy-" 

"Sunshine." 

"I can't lose Birdy!" You snapped, reeling on your superior with a broken gaze. 

For a moment, he stood frozen, speechless. You'd never recover if they killed the other sniper, no one would. Everyone would blame you, it'd be your fault.

"König's got Birdy," Ghost said slowly, straightening to stand to his full height. "I've got you, Sunshine."

You gawked at him as though you hadn't understood a single word he'd said. Realistically, you truly hadn't. They'd come for you, knowing that it would put everyone at risk. 

Simon had come for you, leaving Birdy to a man that he hated with every ounce of his being. 

Simon had come for you, not Birdy. 

"You're here?" You whispered and although it sounded fucking stupid, Ghost only nodded. He knew what you were really asking. 

"Of course," he said. "Of course, I am."

"You came for me?" Your voice broke.

The soldier shuffled on his feet, shaking his head as though he thought it was obvious. 

"I'd follow you anywhere. We both know it," he huffed, that dark gaze pinning your soul to your chest. 

You rocked forward at the words, knees buckling from beneath you. Simon shot forward instantly, his arms looping around your waist and hauling you upward. His hand came to grip your chin, fingers slapping your cheek lightly as your eyes rolled backward. 

"Come on, Sweetheart. Stay with it, it's nothin',"  he growled, jostling your body to keep you conscious. Your head fell forward to rest against his shoulder, ears ringing and your mind shattered. "Sunshine, stay awake for me."

You couldn't any longer, you couldn't listen to him. He should have been used to it by now, you'd always been the troublesome one for him. Never directly disobeying him but never doing it the way he asked, always driving him bat-shit fucking crazy- always under his skin. 

But, if Simon couldn't save you, you'd die happy knowing that he'd even tried. 

You'd die happy knowing that somebody loved you. 

—

When you thought of dying, you always had such a visceral image of what would happen. You'd be the last one on your line, and the rest of your unit would be shot down; you'd make a stand on a hill and wipe out the enemy until you were out of ammo. Then, you would fight until you were overwhelmed. 

That was the death you'd imagined. 

Not abandoned and left alone in a warehouse in a sick game of "pick the sniper you like more." 

"They'll fully recover physically," someone sighed from above your head. "Mentally, though…" 

"They'll be right," Simon finished. 

"That's what they said about Birdy," the doctor muttered. "We all know how that ended." 

"Doc-" 

"Saint."

Simon cleared his throat. 

"Saint," the callsign foreign on his tongue, "Sunshine's not Birdy."

To hear it from Simon Riley himself was all the validation you needed. 

You stirred in the bed and immediately all conversation fell quiet, the both of them waiting for you to fully awaken. 

You knew you were in the hospital before your eyes opened. You recognised the doctor who was talking, a medic who had yelled at you often for ‘being reckless.’ The smell of antiseptic was near seared into your memory and the sound of the monitor beeping was too familiar. 

However, the room was brighter than you’d anticipated and you cringed into your pillow with a moan. The overhead light stung your eyes, searing your retinas and making it near impossible for you to think. 

“Get the lights,” Saint ordered, realizing what the issue was. 

The room fell dim, enough for you to finally pry your lids open and have a look around. Your jaw felt heavy like there was cotton in your mouth. As you probed with your tongue, you realised with a pitted stomach that there actually was something stuffed between your teeth. 

You moaned, reaching upward to pull it out. 

It was as though you’d set off a bomb with the movement. Both Simon and Saint immediately shot forward, hands on your arms to rest them by your side gently. They stood on either side of your bed, like two sentries, one dark and one light. 

“Gonna need you to just relax a second for me, spitfire,” Saint chuckled. 

You huffed, fighting the urge to gag on the material in your mouth. Your tongue ran over it, moving to dislodge it from where it had been wedged between your teeth. 

“Now,” the doctor leaned over to adjust your drip. “Do you remember your name and what happened?” 

Rather than respond, you opted to slowly let the gauze fall out of your mouth and onto your chest. Saint watched you with a deadpan expression as you fought with your facial injuries to perform this feat. 

At the end of it, you offered a weak smile. 

A long moment of silence ensued before the doctor sighed, staring at the lumps of bloody fabric sitting on the gown. 

“I’m gonna go grab some shit,” they said. “Maybe a fuckin’ whiskey.” 

They disappeared from the room swiftly, leaving you alone with the Grim Reaper himself. With a harsh sigh through his nose, the Lieutenant reached over and scooped up the gauze, dropping them into the bin. 

“You couldn’t just answer the question?” He muttered, moving to crouch by your head. He wore only his balaclava, his hoodie down for once. 

“Not with that in my mouth,” you rasped, words thick and sickly. 

Simon snorted softly but he said nothing, opting to watch you instead. His gaze ran from your hair to your neck, over and over as if he were committing you to memory. His expression was gentle but there was something hidden that made you think that, at that moment, he was extremely vulnerable. 

Anything you said from this point on would determine the relationship between you both. You remembered what he’d confessed when he found you beaten and bloody on the floor. It was clear as day and imprinted on your brain as though it had been branded on the inside of your skull. 

“I would follow you anywhere. We both know it.” 

You’d both reached the point of no return, no more smoke and mirrors, no more half-truths. Neither of you could get away with hiding your feelings behind hatred anymore. 

Not after he’d chosen you. 

“You came for me,” you whispered. A statement, not a question this time.

“Of course,” he said again, just as he had before. 

You hadn’t realised you were crying until his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping the tears from your cheeks ever so gently. As much as you hated it, as much as you wanted to stop, you couldn’t hold them back. 

The relief was palpable, the understanding that you were valued was freeing. 

Simon Riley knew the kind of person you were, right at your very core, and he still chose to love you. He still chose to hold your hand and dry your tears with nothing but pure reverence in his gaze. 

You realized then and there, that you were valued.

You were enough.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 ghost #cod x reader #cod mw2 #modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty mw2 #cod ghost

[amsgrey]

Useful Skills

Shadow Summoner! Fem Reader x Kaz Brekker

SPOILERS for Wylans story arc and season two of shadow and bone.

Slow Burn with Kaz because he deserves someone willing to go his pace.

Synopsis: Kaz needs new blood and it comes in the form of Wylan's childhood best friend. A powerful Grisha.

warnings: angst, I did my best to be accurate to Kaz but show Kaz is a little different from Book Kaz so I'm still learning, general angsty crap, and mention of the reader being related to the darkling (trying to make it a little accurate to the books/show)

You had known Wylan Van Eck for almost 8 years, your mother was a maid in his house. You and your mother lived in the servant's quarters on the Van Eck property, meaning you spent almost all your time around him and his family. You never went to a proper school, your mother didn't want you to when you lived in Ravka in case the Grisha testers came. She kept your abilities hidden until you moved to Ketterdam where Grisha testers wouldn't find you.

Your mother died a few years ago, and you left the Van Eck house and found work as a server in a Pub. It was not a job you were happy with but it kept a roof over your head so you would suffer through it for now. You lost touch with Wylan until one day when he entered the pub with three other people.

You almost didn't recognize him, he hadn't grown much from when he was a child but he looked a little more confident. He was sitting against a lanky zemeni boy, exchanging hopelessly smitten glances. Opposite them was a woman dressed in a beautiful gown and a man clad in all black with almost no skin showing. They were in complete contrast to Wylan and the Zemeni boy, sitting as far away from each other as possible.

It was the end of your shift when another server seated them in a booth at the far end of the pub. You knew you had to walk past them to get to the back, where your bag was stored in a small closet away from customers, but walking past meant possibly being recognized.

You hadn't left the Van Eck residence in good faith, having lost your temper at Wylans father for working your mother into the ground and causing her death. When Wylan had tried to speak with you, you had snapped at him and stormed away. Did he hold that against you and would he be hostile? Why was he here of all places?

You tried not to think about it, walking straight passed the table and through the back. You stumbled around the chefs and untied your apron, shoving it in your bag. You took a deep breath before heading back the way you came. You opened the door and stepped out, sidestepping around another waiter serving food at a table close by. As you tried to walk past the table Wylan was seated at, a cane blocked your path.

You stared down at the black cane blocking your path, following it to the gloved hand which held it. You didn't have to remember his name to know who he was.

The man clad in black stared at you, "Y/N, take a seat."

You almost laughed, stopping yourself before offending the bastard of the barrel, "And why would I do that?"

"Because your skills are wasted here."

You would be lying if you weren't interested. But how did Dirtyhands, leader of the Dregs, know what skills you had?

The Zemeni slid over a little more on his side of the booth, dragging Wylan along with him. You hesitantly sat down, avoiding eye contact with Wylan.

"Hi," Wylan squeaked out, offering a shy smile. Your heart melted slightly Wylan was the kindest soul you had ever met. He wouldn't dare hurt a fly and didn't deserve the mistreatment he got from his father.

"Hey,' You replied, feeling any tension resolve. You offered him a smile, watching the anxiety melt away from his face. To further remove any tension, you stole a piece of bread from his plate that sat untouched in front of him. Picking off a piece and eating it casually.

The girl on the opposite side of the booth giggled, following your lead and humming an appreciative sound at the taste.

"So..?" You turned to Brekker, "What is it exactly that you think my skills are?"

Kaz's eyes flickered from you to Wylan next to you, "Wylan tells me you have a unique talent."

You paused your movements, turning to narrow your eyes at Wylan, "Did he just," You grumbled. You had shown Wylan your summoning when you were both 15. He was your best friend and swore he would never tell another soul, he was the only person you knew who wasn't scared of shadow summoning.

Wylan stumbled over his sentence, "I didn't, uh, tell him everything."

Kaz's face morphed into a scowl.

This time you did laugh, "So you came here on a whim?"

Kaz opened his mouth to speak but was beaten by the woman.

"We need your help to break someone out of Hellgate."

Your face gave away your surprise, you had never been anywhere near Hellgate but you knew the stories, "Hellgate? As in the most secure place in Ketterdam?"

"Wylan seems to think you can help us," Kaz said.

You looked at your childhood friend, thinking over the specifics. You just might be able to help but summoning meant exposing yourself and your abilities. The Fold and The Darkling were gone, but how would people react to another shadow summoner?

"So," the Zemeni spoke, his arm draped over Wylans shoulders, "You in?"

Stepping into the Slat for the first time felt strange. You hadn't been in a warm, dry place for years. Finding it now in the middle of the barrel felt counter intuitive. You weren't expecting it, but once you stepped past the threshold you were hit by a wave of warmth.

You were somewhat jealous, your own room in the boarding house was never this warm. And you lived on the outskirts of the barrel and the financial district.

The bottom of the slat held a bar that had seen better days, to say the least. Kaz led the way to another booth, clearly the group's go-to planning table. Maps of Hellgate and various scribbled notes were perched on the wood.

You slipped into the booth and sat next to Nina, who had talked your ear off the whole walk to the Slat about Matthias the (former) Düskelle and love of her life. You didn't mind, enjoying listening to something more upbeat than the drunken rambles of patrons you were used to. Besides, it was clear she was head over heels and you always tried to help out fellow Grisha.

As Kaz went over what he was planning, you listened intently. He had fleshed out almost every part of the plan, but kept on ending up with one key factor.

"We'll be seen."

You shared a glance with Wylan.

"I can help with that."

Kaz quirked an eyebrow, waiting for you to explain further. You were hesitant, they could fear you and kill you on the spot. Or you might have to kill them.

You looked around the room, by now it was so late into the night that even the bars would be closing. There was no one else in the Slat. The last Dregs had crawled in half an hour ago and were nowhere to be seen. It didn't mean anyone couldn't walk in at any time.

Nina could feel your heartbeat grow more erratic, "No one is around." She said, trying to assure you with her small science.

"The Dregs won't interrupt us while we're in here," Kaz spoke, for a second you thought you saw curiosity in his eyes.

"Just-" You took a shaky breath, you hadn't shown anyone your powers since Wylan. Only using them in hiding to avoid growing weak. For the longest time, your mother scolded you for using your powers, teaching you the dangers of summoning anywhere that wasn't in private.

"Never tell anyone," She would mumble, wrapping you in her arms as you both curled up on the small bed in your room in the servants quarters of the Van Eck Mansion, "Your powers are your gifts, but they are your crimes too, Milaya. If anyone finds out they will punish you."

You broke the rules she set out only once, with Wylan. Were you ready to risk your comfortable life for these people you just met?

"It's hard to explain," You leant back against the booth, twisting your fingers nervously, "It's easier to show."

Kaz gestured impatiently, waiting for you to show them.

"Wylan said your Etherealnik," Jesper said flippantly, "We have a heartrender," He gestured loosely to Nina, "A wonderful durast," He grinned and gestured to himself, "About time we add an Etherealnik.”

You smiled, "Well if you're so sure."

You pressed your palms together, pausing for a second and then pulling them apart. Twisting your hands in opposite directions, your fingers moved independently to call the shadows to you. For a fleeting moment, it was like the world was losing colour, and then darkness was gathering around your hands, amassing between your palms.

You heard Nina gasp but ignored her to focus on your shadows. They reached out in tendrils, spreading up your arms as they tried to block the light from you. You pressed your hands back together, and the shadows expanded quickly and overcame the room, plunging space into pitch black. As soon as the darkness overcame the room, you called it off. Returning the room to its usual light.

Once the room was back to what it was before, you glanced around at the faces of the Crows. Wylan had the same impressed smile he had all those years ago, forever in awe of your powers. Nina was staring wide-eyed at the table, a slightly unreadable look on her face. Jesper's jaw was slack, mouth agape and blinking rapidly.

You were surprised to see Kaz wasn't at all shocked. He had the slightest smirk, not an ounce of fear or hesitation on his features.

"Those skills," He said with the same smirk, "are definitely of use."

Getting into the Hellshow hadn't been an issue. You and Nina had gotten on a boat and calmy taken seats towards the back of the crowd. Nina had to keep her face somewhat hidden, deciding on tailoring herself slightly to avoid Pekka's gaze. She had told you briefly about the last time she was here, trying to deliver the pardon Nikolai Lanstov convinced the Kerch government to write. She had been thrown out on Pekkas orders, pardon ignored. She was forced to leave not knowing how Matthias was.

You felt bad for her, it was hard to be separated from those you loved. Not that you ever had anyone other than your mother, but when she died you would have done anything to bring her back.

"So," You turned to Nina, squished up against her to avoid being too close to the drunken men beside you, "What exactly is the hellshow?"

Nina's brow furrowed in disgust, "The prisoners fight for better living conditions, food, a visit from family. It's barbaric."

She was looking over the crowd, eyes filled with silent fury. You followed her gaze to where a bearded man sat surrounded by burly prisoners. She pointed him out, "Rollins." Her voice held a hatred you hadn't thought possible of her.

You had stopped Kaz the night before, asking him what you were thinking again now, "Why don't we just kill this Pekka Rollins?"

Kaz had given you an annoyed look - although almost all of his looks were annoyed. He gave you no answer, but Jesper had filled you in on how Kaz had something personal against Rollins, something about Rollins running a con that lead to his brother's death. The specifics he didn't know. Kaz was a mystery, even to those that he seemed closest with. He seemed to like it that way. In the week it took for you all to plan the heist, you had learnt very few things about the bastard of the barrel.

Almost immediately you noticed how well he kept his thoughts and emotions hidden. At first, you had jokingly declared you would hate to play cards against him and Jesper confirmed he yet to win against his boss. Then you started to admire him, the calculated look in his eyes and the strength he projected made him the force The Barrel knew him as. Every now and again you could see a crack in his resolve. The way a corner of his mouth would quirk up for a fleeting second when Jesper made a particularly terrible joke. The quick flash of a solemn emotion - regret? pain? - when he was accused of being heartless by Nina or Per Haskell.

The other thing you noticed was entirely by mistake. It was obvious how Kaz was never without his gloves, it was the first thing you noticed about him. You didn't need to know why, everyone had their cruxes. You kept your own hidden, you assumed he did too. Then you noticed how he kept himself away from others. He never stood too close or flinched away from others' touch. You noticed it quickly and adjusted, trying to respect his boundaries. To you, it was the least you could do after what he had done for you.

You didn't think the boy had noticed, but he had. Kaz had been interested in your mysterious nature too. You kept hidden well, he hadn't expected you to shadow summon even though Wylan had warned him you were uniquely talented. He had to make assumptions about you, you looked quiet and well-mannered. But he had been surprised to learn you were anything but. You spoke your mind with little regard for manners or etiquette. Kaz grew to admire it. Not many people argued with Dirtyhands, or offered different plans from his own, but you were constantly challenging his ideas and in many ways, making them better.

Kaz couldn't, however, find your crux. It infuriated him, he found himself watching you and trying to learn more. That infuriated him more.

He could see you seated in the bleachers now, but you couldn't see him. He had slipped into the arena unnoticed by Pekkas men, hiding away from their gazes.

The plan was set in motion when Wylan and Jesper made their first move. You and Nina would then find Matthias' cell and Kaz would lead Jesper and Wylan to you. The plan was to break him out of the cells and smuggle him hidden in your darkness. Nina had told you how Matthias had been unlearning Druskelle's ideas, but he still might be hostile towards you. It made you nervous, using your power in public for the first time with the risk of Matthias messing you up. It was a considerable risk. Nina had tried to reassure you she would prevent him from interfering.

There was a far-off rumbling, then a muffled boom. You and Nina pretended to be startled like the other patrons, adding to the panic as fog started to fill the arena. As the crowd panicked and headed for the exits, you subtly summoned your shadows to extinguish the lamps around the room. The darkness drew more panic. You and Nina used it to slip past the crowds and into the hallway leading to the cells.

You almost stabbed Jesper as he came barreling around the corner in his guard's uniform. He reeled back, hands over his chest in surprise as the sudden blade.

"Saints," You swore, pocketing the knife and reaching to steady the boy, "I thought you would be slower."

“Change in plans,” Kaz said with no further explanation, "Wylan's bombs will distract the guards for a time. We need to find the frejdan quickly."

You nodded, resuming your position and following Nina as she searched for Matthias' heart. Occasionally you would clasp your hand around her wrist - a gesture not missed by Kaz. Nina had figured out quickly you were an amplifier, allowing you to help her search more efficiently. She hadn't told anyone else, because she knew what it meant. A shadow summoner who was also an amplifier? It was undisguisable the relation there.

Your group halted at a large bolted door, Nina mumbled out how she was sure Matthias was in a room beyond.

"What about guards?" Wylan spoke quietly, half hidden by Jesper, who had his pistol in hand. Wylan was in a guard's uniform too, but it looked much bigger on him, giving him an almost adolescent look.

Nina paused, "Three."

You turned to Kaz, watching him as ideas turned around in his mind.

"Wait-" Nina spoke again, crossing her hands together, "There's more than just guards."

"How do you mean?' You pressed.

"There are men in the main space," She explained, "Prisoners perhaps?"

"Rollins." Kaz hissed. None of you could know for sure, but it seemed likely. This changed everything, you had all been operating under the assumption that the prisoners were locked in their cells during security breaches. At least, that had been what Kaz's inside source had told.

"Jesper and I should go in," You said, offering a plan before Kaz could, "I can hide us, Jesper can open the door and-"

"No," Kaz interrupted. You were taken aback, he didn't even let you finish.

"Matthias doesn't know you," Nina said desperately, her voice slightly louder than the whispers in which you had all been conversing. "He won't go with you."

You shook your head in frustration, "I can't hide all of us. Even if I could, we don't have a plan.”

"Everyone stop talking," Kaz snapped, his brows pulled together in concentration.

You bit back a smart remark, it wouldn't do any good now anyway.

"Nina, Jesper," Kaz started, "You take Wylan and create a distraction, explosion or whatever." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a watch, gesturing for Wylan to bring out his own, "When the minute clock is on the 8, something big that ensures we can slip out. Then you go back to Ketterdam, as quickly as possible."

That gave you all 25 minutes but meant Nina wouldn't see Matthias. Nina looked disheartened but waited for Kaz to finish.

"Y/N and I will get Helvar. We'll use the distraction to get out, and meet you back at the Slat."

"How will we get Matthias out of a locked cell?" You hissed.

Kaz fished something out of his pocket, opening his palm to show you the small silver lock pick.

"Of course," You sighed dramatically, "I should have known you know how to pick locks."

Kaz gave you an amused smile and a look that read, Do you even know me?

Nina reached up to her neck, unclasping a necklace she always wore, "Give this to Matthias, so he knows you are with me."

You nodded, tucking the necklace in the pocket of your skirt to keep it safe.

Kaz sent the three away but not before Jesper worked his Durast science and unlocked the door.

You turned to Kaz, "I can hide us, block the light, but I can't disguise sound."

Kaz followed your gaze to his cane, nodding once in understanding.

You took a deep breath, it was now or never. Kaz pulled the door open as quietly as possible, watching your face contort in effort as you called shadows to you to surround the both of you.

You turned to Kaz before stepping into the room, "You'll have to stay close."

You didn't wait for his response, just took a dubious step into the room and pressed against the wall. Nina had said Matthias was in the 5th door on the left, but once you had entered you realized just how open the space was.

The fifth door was in the middle of the circular space, the only cover would be from Pillars of stone that held the roof up. You spared a glance at Kaz, who was standing mere centimetres away from you on your back, his cane held firmly in his grasp off the ground. Standing so close to him felt different, you hadn't expected him to be so cold. It was like he was drawing your heat away from you, which you welcomed. You were always too warm, something about the effort of summoning made you overheat easily. Your mother used to say your skin always felt feverish. Now for the first time, you felt balanced.

Kaz felt it too. How heat rolled off of you in waves. Being so close to you warmed him, which seemed impossible. He hadn't felt warmth since he was a boy, since before the Queen Lady’s Plague. You sensed his unease, looking at him and offering the smallest of apologies, your voice so quiet he hardly heard it.

He nodded for you to continue, trying not to get caught up in the feeling of being close to you. You both counted the doors as you inched along, stopping as you reached the fifth door. Kaz slowly bent down, and you spotted a flash of pain as he moved his leg. He faced the lock and started working while you stood beside him watching the courtyard.

Nina was right, there were more than three men in the room. At least eight were seated around a makeshift table, sitting on the table itself was one Pekka Rollins. You could hear the vulgar conversation he was keeping, it made you think about how much Kaz hated him. You startled when there was a soft clang, the noise echoing off the cobble walls. You turned to look at Kaz, who was silently cursing himself and staring at the lockpick resting on the floor.

"What was that?" A rough voice groused.

Rollins climbed up from his seat, he took a few slow steps towards where you were hidden in the shadows. The lanterns on the walls weren't lit, you had made sure to block the one that was nearby on a pillar to avoid any obvious shadows. Rollins was staring into the darkness like he could see you, it made you so nervous you could feel your heart beating out of your chest.

Rollins snatched a lantern from the table, holding it up and taking a few more slow steps. You tried to step back slightly but only nudged Kaz. If he noticed, he didn't react, still working on the lock. As Pekka drew closer, the lock clicked open, allowing Kaz to push the door open. He blindly reached out, grabbing your wrist, pulling you into the cell, and shutting the door behind you as quietly as possible. Almost as quickly as he had held your wrist, he let go, stepping away as you held your palms facing up to draw the shadows back into the room to avoid Rollin's suspicions.

Thankfully, it was only Matthias in the cell. He had stirred from sleep at the sounds of footsteps, when he opened his eyes you stumbled around Kaz to shove your hands over Matthias' mouth to stop any words from coming out. The Frejdan made a disgruntled noise, sleep leaving his eyes and his hands locking onto your wrists with a deathly tight grip.

"You alive in there, Helvar?" Rollin's accent gave way to his chuckle, he kicked the door, causing it to rattle and groan.

You and Kaz stared at Matthias, urging him to keep his mouth shut. With any luck, Pekka would leave and chalk it up to the sleepy groans of a prisoner. You should have known luck was not on your side.

"Helvar," Rollins barked, this time bringing his fist against the door.

You pulled your hands away from the druskelle. Mouthing "Please" to him.

"Leave me be," The Frejdan spoke hoarsely.

Rollins let out an ugly chuckle from the other side of the door but after another few tense moments, you heard footsteps moving away.

You stepped back, accidentally bumping into Kaz in the cramped space. Matthias moved from the cot, fixing you and Kaz with a dirty glare that made you even more nervous.

"Who are you?"

"We're friends of Nina," You tried to explain, beating Kaz to speak because you knew he would only escalate the situation.

Matthias' face turned sourer, within a blink of an eye he was moving. You had no time to react as he grabbed you and pushed you against the wall, his forearm pressing against your throat. He put enough pressure to limit your air, like he was trying to warn you, not to hurt you. You quickly touched your hands together and reached out to summon. Matthias grabbed your wrist and slammed it against the wall. It made a sick crack, pain blooming through your wrist and hand. You let out a string of curses, biting your tongue to avoid being too loud.

Kaz used the crow end of his cane to press against Matthias' neck, "I suggest you let go, Helvar."

Matthias let out a soft growl as he spoke, "Who are you?"

His accent was so pronounced, every word he spoke in Kerch was thick with the Frejdan accent he would never be rid of.

"Friends of Nina," You insisted, "In my left pocket, Nina gave me her necklace."

Matthias loosed his grip slightly, looking from your face to your skirt's pockets. He let go of your wrist, but you daren't move it. He slowly fished out the necklace, holding it up to study the delicate chain. He slowly moved his forearm off of you, stepping back and staring at you with wide eyes.

As soon as he was the step back, you pulled your wrist to your chest. Kaz's eyes flickered from you to the giant Frejdan in the middle of you.

"Can you..?"

You shook your head, "Maybe," you pulled your wrist away from your chest and flexed your fingers. Pain shot up your arm, causing your face to twist in a grimace.

"You are..." Matthias paused, "...Grisha."

You nodded, "I was our ticket out of here."

Kaz scowled at the Frejdan, something about his look made you think he might leave the Drüskelle here after all.

"I'll make it work," You said, pushing the pain to the back of your mind to continue with the job.

Kaz looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't. He tried to move over as much as he could letting you shuffle past and stand in front of the door.

You turned to look at the druskelle, "Don't make any noises, they will hear it."

Matthias' brows pinched together, he looked to Kaz for an explanation but the boy just ordered him to stay close.

You took a deep breath, forcing your broken hand to open so that you could summon. Moving your fingers was hard, they were reluctant to dance like usual when you summoned. You pressed past it, drawing the shadows to conceal your group, opening the door slowly and sneaking out. Kaz and Matthias stayed close behind you, following you all around the room back to the exit. As you solely opened the door, a far-off bell started to sound.

"Jesper," Kaz said quietly.

You nodded, quietly slipping into the corridor and ushering Kaz and Matthias in too. You dropped the shadows once the door closed, ignoring the incredulous stare Matthias was giving you. Kaz led the way back through the corridors and winding hallways, leaning heavily on his cane as he walked. You knew that the time he had spent off it must have caused him pain, you felt bad that the plan had gone so terribly wrong.

Kaz seemed to always have a backup plan because he led you and Matthias out of Helgate like a man on a mission. You stumbled along behind him, keeping your wrist held to your chest. Kaz led you and Matthias down a stairway, the door at the end lead into the night air. You were surprised to find a small balcony, a rotten wooden platform perched on the rocks. The saltwater had eroded away the wood on the front, making it creak and flake dangerously under your feet. Kaz made quick work of slipping down the platform and onto the rocks, he pressed his palm against the wall to steady himself. He turned back to you and Matthias waiting impatiently for you both to follow him. Matthias went first, stepping down easily, making the drop look like a small step. You tried to step down with some sense of balance, but your foot found a slippery rock and you tripped forward. You hit into Kaz, who steadied you with a hand to your bad arm. You hissed and recoiled, watching Kaz's face change.

"Sorry," You whispered, noticing how he swallowed thickly, panic barely contained in his eyes.

Kaz took a moment, looking at your genuine expression. He knew that you knew, but you made no move to ask about it his weakness. For that, he was grateful.

Kaz pushed out of his haunted thoughts, turning and leading the way across the rocks and around the outside of Hellgate. You had been walking for ten minutes when the rocks started to mix with chunks of rubble. Walking on the rocks with the rubble moving underneath your feet became harder. You all slowed down and clung to the wall for the extra support it gave.

"Saints," You murmured when you came across the gaping hole in the wall made by Wylans explosives.

"Wylan knows what he's doing," Kaz quipped, slight amusement in his tone.

It took your small group at least two hours to get back to the Slat. The majority of that time was spent in a tiny row boat getting sloshed by freezing water. You were sat next to Kaz while Matthias rowed, you had offered your help but he had huffed in Frejdan something that seemed like 'I can do it myself'.

By the time you all had entered the Slat, there had been no one on the streets and you were freezing. Matthias seemed to be dealing with the cold best, no doubt his childhood in the icy Frejda had trained him well. You and Kaz were shivering as you stumbled along, all of you were damp from your trip on the sea. Your skirts were soaked, making them heavier and heavier as you walked.

Stepping into the Slat would usually warm you up, but this time it didn't. You could see Wylan and Jesper sitting at the bar, watching Nina pace up and down. They all snapped to look at you when the door slammed shut behind you. Nina let out a tiny squeal, running and throwing herself into Matthias' arms. You and Kaz looked on briefly before stumbling further into the room.

"Saints," Jesper looked both of you up and down, "We thought maybe you'd died."

You let out a chuckle, "You can't kill weeds."

Kaz looked at you surprised and you offered him a smile.

"What happened?" Wylan asked, watching Nina and Matthias approach arm in arm.

Kaz fixed Matthias with a glare, "Your oaf broke Y/N's wrist."

Nina looked from Matthias to you, then stepped forward to assess your wrist. You offered her your hand without complaint, letting her heal it the little she could.

"It was a mistake," You defended Matthias, mostly from Kaz's dark stare.

Later that night, which had turned more to early morning, you sought out Kaz in his room. You had changed into dry clothes, your wrist wrapped to keep it steady until morning when you would find a healer. You walked up to Kaz's door, then hesitated. What if he was asleep?

You knocked anyway, gently so as to not startle him.

"Yes?"

You pushed the door open, stepping into the room slightly. Kaz didn't even turn from his perch at his desk to look at you.

"I- uh," Your voice came out much quieter than you were expecting, almost sounding broken.

Kaz stopped scribbling on the paper on front of him.

"I just wanted to ask," You spoke clearer this time, "If you were okay?"

Kaz turned to look at you this time, surprised. After a few days with the bastard of the barrel, you had gotten better at reading his subtle emotions. Even the ones he tried to hide deep in his eyes. Like the anxiety when you touched him, or again on the boat.

Kaz didn't answer, he didn't have to.

"You don't have to answer," You said after a moment of silence passed, "Everyone has their..." You searched for the right word.

"Weaknesses," Kaz said.

"Weaknesses." You agreed.

You took a small step forward, testing the waters. Kaz didn't tell you to back off or look fearful.

"We all have them," You continued.

Kaz nodded once, "And you?"

You smiled, "Dirtyhands doesn't know?"

Kaz looked away and sighed in exasperation.

You stepped closer, approaching the desk, "It's this."

You summoned your shadows, forming them into a small tangled shape in your palm. The shadows reached up your arm, trying to tangle their way around you. You dismissed them, staring at the empty space above your palm.

Kaz thought about how wrong you were.

"If you ever need to share," You took a step back, "I'll be here."

You left him at his desk, exiting the room and closing the door behind you. Maybe it would take some time, but you were willing to wait if it meant becoming someone Kaz Brekker could rely on.

#six of crows #kaz brekker #six of crows x reader #the crows #kaz brekker x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz and jesper #jesper fahey #six of crows jesper #wylan hendriks #jesper x wylan #wesper #wylan van eck #nina zenik #matthias helvar #helnik #crows #grishaverse #shadow and bone s2 #shadow and bone s2 spoilers #pekka rollins #kaz dirtyhands brekker #bastard of the barrel

[s-4pphics]

mourn. intro. (e.w.)

INTRO. 

WORD COUNT: 4.1k

WARNINGS: streetracer!ellie, dealer!oc, backstory lemme cook, parental death, mentions of overdoses, funeral, baby ellie :), oc intro… cackles evilly

A/N: last post til eid lol 

pay zakat. feed a family this ramadan. k!ll zios.

SEPTEMBER, 2009

ANGUISH floods Ellie’s chest as she witnesses decorative rosewood being lowered into the sopping dirt. It’s cinematic; watching herself from a bird’s eye view, floating above her own body. Her brain cranks at an alarming rate. Churning in attempts to convince her that she’s not actually here, staring dead at her mother’s casket. The grass sludges beneath her shoes with every unsteady shuffle of her feet. 

There aren't many people around. Three of her mother’s former work friends, a service dog, and the officiant. They’re hardly acknowledging Ellie; no one would be able to stop her from leaping head-first into the ground due to the lowering clouds. Buried and suffocated by grass and mud, a feast for the maggots, but loved eternally. Every cell in Ellie’s body thrums with anxiety. Just when she trusted that her mother’s health was improving, she woke up, shrouded in ice next to a limp body and an empty pill bottle on the nightstand. The same ones her mother took to sleep throughout the night. 

That was three weeks ago. She doesn’t remember calling 911. 

Her best friend — her only friend is gone. And it’s permanent. This isn’t like how her mother used to scavenge the streets until dawn searching for another job before Ellie woke up. She’s not coming back to crawl into their shared, warm bed, sleep for half an hour, then help her get ready for school. No more oatmeal in the mornings. No laughter. No joy. No symmetry. Ellie’s life is forever scattered. Beaten to death until she’s leaking venomous, black blood.

There’s a man that keeps staring at her with pity: familiarity crushes her every time they lock eyes. She kind of remembers him. Somewhat. She almost forgot her shoes before coming here. He seems more upset than her. At least externally; Ellie’s rotting from the inside. 

Her mother’s chamber is completely submerged underneath dirt within the next few hours. The man from earlier is much closer now. 

She jumps when he whispers, 

I owed your mom a favor. 

OCTOBER, 2009

Ellie hates Joel. Hates her mother for leaving her with him. Hates herself for not being able to save her from the claws of addiction. 

Joel’s home is always silent during the day. He gave Ellie the grace of letting her stay home until the Spring, but it’s too quiet. Music never plays and they never talk, and it’s driving her to madness. The silence makes her itch. 

Until the sun sets. 

She already has trouble sleeping. Her insomnia combined with the thunderous clanking that blares from the garage every night is enough to get her sobbing into her pillow until the sun rises the next morning. One night, the noise had gotten so uncontrollably loud that Ellie barged into the garage to shout every curse she recalled her mom screaming into the phone before bedtime.

She didn't expect, however, to see Joel’s legs extended out from underneath her mom’s wrecked ‘57 Chevrolet. Ellie could hear him grunting as cranking and banging of metal took over the space. 

… What are you doing? 

Joel rolls out from beneath the car on a creeper, face confused and smeared with dark sludge. 

Why’re you up? 

It’s loud. She snaps. Why is her car here. 

Joel sighs. Just trying to fix it up. 

For what. Ellie eyes the cracked windshield. She somehow remembers how a rock hit it on the freeway when she was six. Her mom was livid. She can’t drive it anymore. 

Joel’s face twists uncomfortably. It’s almost comical; the seemingly boiling child stands at a whopping four-foot-three with her fists clenched, burning holes through her bright yellow Spongebob pjs. Her glare sharpens when he mumbles, 

Kid… 

So you stole her freaking car? Her eyes swelter, brows hauled downward and hands in fists. He sits up straight, palms up in surrender, wrench in hand. How’d he even get back into their old house?

No, I — He rushes, She asked me to try n’ get it started again. That’s all. I… I shoulda asked you —

Ellie’s not sure why she’s so enraged, but she’s hollering with a pointed index in his direction, berating him, degrading him with sobbed vulgarities. Pushes him hard when he rises to comfort her. Eyes him with so much disdain that he flinches. 

She hates him. She misses her mom. 

The guest room door slammed shut with the click of a lock. She screamed for her mother for hours. Voice shrieking so loud that the neighbors came knocking after the first fifteen minutes. Cops pounded on Joel’s door and proceeded to conduct a wellness check on the household after an hour. 

Their presence made Ellie swallow her scorn. Ellie’s already received a small taste of what it’s like to be in the system. She vowed to never reenter as if her life depended on it. 

NOVEMBER, 2009

Joel made Ellie chocolate chip pancakes for her birthday. 

Breakfast is silent, per usual. Light clinks of utensils on silverware and breathing are the only proof of life in the room. Ellie refuses to touch the squared slices of pineapple. It was her mother’s favorite, despite her complaints of an itchy mouth after every juicy piece. 

Your mom and I… 

Ellie pauses, skeptic eyes connecting with Joel’s. He’s treading light, she can tell. The nerves in his fingers are evident; The sorrow in his eyes suffocates her. Joel’s gaze drops onto his plate at the scrutiny he receives from across the table. 

She’s a good friend of mine, He mutters before his lips turn downward. Was. 

Ellie snorts humorlessly, Way to rub it in. 

Joel’s eyes flutter shut as he sighs, I’m… Sorr—

Were you the one she told? Her tone is sharp. Unforgiving. I heard her on the phone a few days before she did it. 

A storm flurries in the man’s gaze. A familiar one; It’s identical to when she would catch her mother in the middle of night talking to herself with a bottle in her hand. The winds in his pupils take her back to one of the darkest times of Ellie’s life. Maybe they were closer than she assumed. They look identical when they’re guilty. 

I didn’t—

But he did. He’ll never forget being on the other line with Ellie’s mother as she attempted to keep her cries to a minimum. Her croaked wails terrified him. Left wounds in his chest as his heart raced. I can’t do this to her, She’d said, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t! … Please… You owe me…

Joel did what he could over the phone. Made promises to her that he couldn’t keep, reaffirmed how much Ellie loved her. How badly she needed her mother, and eventually eased her sobs into pained whimpers. He believed the calmness she exuded prior to ending the call was a sign of understanding of her importance, but it wasn’t. Her mind and body merely accepted her fate. She was dead two mornings after. 

And Ellie was a witness to it all. 

Ellie’s eyes roll and sickness floods her, so she stands, You’re a liar. When you’re ready to tell the truth… You know where I am. She doesn’t bother to push her chair in, clean her dishes, pause at his calls of her name. Her feet stomp through the hallway, marrow searing beneath her skin. The guest room door slams shut and she breaks, guarded by the plainness of the beige walls while tears flow. 

She knows he knew. Why else would her mother leave her with him? 

-

-

- 

When Ellie got up to use the restroom hours later, she nearly tripped over a teddy bear holding a birthday cake. With candles. She’s never received a gift before. 

She doesn’t tell him that she slept for an hour with it hugged to her chest. 

The noises in the garage halt for a week. Ellie still can’t fall asleep. Joel has the same problem, she’s discovered. She finds him sprawled out on the couch one night, burning holes through the roof with a picture frame in his arms. She watches him silently for some time, perched behind the main wall of the hallway. 

Hey. 

Joel’s acknowledgement earns a gasp followed by scuffling, and he snorts. He sits up and sets the dusty frame on the cushion in front of him, noting how awful Ellie is at hiding; It makes him smile. Barely, but he’s endeared; Her entire arm was exposed. He can even see her duck-shaped slippers from where she’s tucked behind the wall. 

Ellie. 

She doesn’t come out, and he sighs. His heart twists painfully when he hears a wet sniffle. He’s up and moving when a guttural sob echoes from the hallway, crouching down in front of Ellie with her knees squeezed into her heaving chest. Joel’s heart cracks at her flushed cheeks drenched in salt. Talking won’t calm her, he knows it, but he’s unsure of what else to do. Ellie… isn’t an emotional kid, but he hushes her, attempts to cradle, apologizes softly. 

But when her wet eyes pinch open, she unravels and falls into him completely. Her arms squeeze around his neck in a deadly grip and she cries and coughs and whines for her mother. Joel holds her just as tightly as she hangs off him. 

We're gonna be fine, sweetheart. He mumbles, and he feels her head shake in denial, tucked in the crook of his neck. His knees wobble, and a soothing hand rises to caress the back of her head; He's never seen a kid this hopeless. It makes him wonder. 

What the hell did she witness in that house? 

Ellie’s always struggled to fall asleep alone. 

Her need to be coddled to dreamland was always a mystery to her mother. Skin-to-skin was a normal trait for infants, toddlers, maybe even a little over, but at age ten? Eleven, and unable to fall asleep without the feeling or knowledge of a loved one present? There was only one time where she recalled her mother carrying her to her own room to rest, but the second the door clicked shut, she was up. Awake. Alert and exposed to harm. Or, at least that’s what she convinced herself. 

She crawled into her mother’s bed minutes later and snoozed throughout the entire night. She didn’t hear the end of it when the sun rose. 

Joel doesn’t berate her, though. 

I can’t sleep by myself, she’d said to him after she calmed from her breakdown in the living room. They’d sat on the couch as he rubbed a comforting palm down her back, her small ones coming up to wipe her wet cheeks. 

How come? 

She scoffed, Scared of the dark, I guess? I dunno. I just can’t. 

Joel hummed in understanding. 

I’m like that, too. Sometimes. 

Ellie snickered wetly, You’re old, though. It’s not the same. 

Joel scoffed and snatched his hand away in mocked hurt. I’m not old! 

The gray hairs say otherwise! 

That night was the first time they ever laughed together. The first time Ellie laughed since her mother’s death, and it carried on until she knocked out beside him on the couch. 

For Joel, though, he couldn’t rest. Not when Ellie favored his daughter that much. Whenever he feels as though he’s progressing, letting go of grief, something life changing — disastrous — forces him right back to square one. Meeting Ellie was one of those moments. He tried to keep his weeping to a minimum as he held her sleeping form, eyes glued to the picture of him hugging his baby after her first soccer win. 

DECEMBER, 2009

It’s New Year’s Eve, and Ellie’s trapped inside the garage with Joel. 

Watching him tweak her mother’s vehicle has aided her raging boredom… To a certain degree. When he starts getting nerdy and raving about car parts, she tunes him out, despite the slight interest she’s taken with underneath the hood. 

The connecting wires, the bolts, the valves and cranks and this manual makes absolutely zero sense—

Can you stop dillydallyin’ around n’ hand me that? 

Ellie’s gobsmacked reading is paused when she passes Joel the manual, dark sludge-covered hands staining the fading paper. She cringes. 

Ellie watches silently as Joel inspects the contents, nodding to himself as his eyes flicker from the vehicle to the booklet, mapping out his next moves of attack. His eyes sparkle and curiosity sparks in her. 

Did you fix it? 

Joel only murmurs to himself, and Ellie’s eyes roll. She inches closer to him and waves a hand in front of his eyes. Hellooo? Is it gonna start? 

… I think so, kid. His head shakes in disbelief, If I can get that transmission replaced, it might be alright. 

Ellie’s brows furrow… What on earth is a transmission? 

I’ve been workin’ on cars for a while. I can tell you now that finding such an essential part for a model this old is gonna be tough. Might cost me an arm n’ leg. 

Ellie shrugs, You’ll figure it out, old man. 

He stares down at her blankly, Gee, thanks. Hand me that wrench, assistant. 

Ellie mocks glee on her skip to the rolling cart, Gosh golly dang, does this mean I’m hired? 

He jokingly snatches the tool from her extended hand. Little bugger. And just like that, you’re not gettin’ paid. How’s it feel to be outta funds? 

WAAAAAAA—

Ellie’s fake wails earn her a deep holler. 

Ellie oversees Joel until the clock strikes twelve, following his line of vision on every rusted compartment of the vehicle. Stood attentively at his side as he pointed out the carefully crafted machinery, listing their parts despite Ellie’s protest of forgetfulness. There are so many names for everything; Building cars seems so complicated, but curiosity sparks in her. She starts to think: maybe cars aren’t so boring. 

Another sleepless night for the both of them; Might as well commit to movie night. Fireworks are still going off in the small neighborhood hours later. The booming colors in the sky makes Joel's teeth grind. Reminds him of the time he took Sarah to Santa Monica Pier. 

Joel? 

Mhm? 

… What favor did you owe my mom? 

Thickness builds in his throat the second Ellie mentions her. He sets the large bowl of chocolate-doused popcorn onto the coffee table, reaching for the remote to turn the movie down. Not off, down. Ellie hates feeling like she’s being scolded. 

Joel doesn’t look at her, but her eyes are glued on the side of his face. 

Umm… He scratches his face, Did your mom ever mention me to you? Ellie denies with a hum. 

Joel’s mind whirs back to the first time he met Anna: sophomore year. He was exhausted, drained, barely making it, but despite being miserable, he still cared deeply for his education. He studied until his eyes burned, jotted down notes until his hand cramped and the librarian was gently urging him to head home. 

She… We were friends in college. He fonds, We met at an ice cream truck. 

Weird. Ellie notes causally, She hates dairy. 

… Yeah. She does. Joel coughs to mask the brokenness in his voice. 

Anna was… a genius, to put it lightly. Academically gifted to an intimidating degree. Her mind was a camera; She’d scan one excerpt from the thickest novel once and still manage to repeat it word for word years later. They had comms together; Her voice sounded like tweeting birds whenever she recited her prepared speech like it was nothing. She was an emotional speaker, entranced everyone in the room, and always ended with a question that forced students and professors to self-reflect. Joel wouldn’t call it a crush… Merely admiration. Envy. He was motivated whenever he left comms. 

He’ll never forget the image of her, sweating and worn, carrying what seemed like a twenty-pound backpack — all stuffed with calculus books — while ordering a can of Sprite from the humming, beaten down truck. Anna didn’t leave after the vendor handed her the soft drink. She simply turned to Joel, inspected him from head to toe, and turned back to the vendor. 

I’ll cover whatever he gets, too. With a thumb aimed at him. He nearly choked. 

A free snow cone couldn’t halt the racing in his chest. 

I know what you are. 

What, He questioned without a stutter. 

You fix cars? Anna quirked a brow at him. Joel’s brows pull downward. How did she know that? He’s fixed one car since he’s been enrolled. His buddy pulled up in front of his dorm asking for a windshield repair. But he shrugs, feigning nonchalance. I dunno. 

The green-eyed girl scoffs and sips from her nearly emptied can. 

You down to replace a tire? Some jackass thought it would be funny to leave a rusty nail in our parking lot. 

Our. She must have roommates… or lives where he does, he thinks. For how much? Not a beat missed. 

Her shoulders lift, I dunno. How much does a tire cost? 

Depends on the model. What d’you drive?

A chevy. Don’t ask the year, I’m not sure. It was a hand-me-down. 

A slight pause between them before Anna suggests with a sigh,

Come see ‘er. 

-

-

-

Thar she blows. 

Joel can’t help but snicker at the woman in front of him, posing right next to her teetered vehicle. It’s quite charismatic; the bright pink bumper stickers, the crisp turquoise paint job, the slight scratch on the trunk. It’s nice. Classically vintage; it suits her. 

A beauty, he notes with his eyes locked onto Anna’s. She gives a hum in agreement. 

Revive her, if ya don’t mind. I’m desperate and can’t sue, so. Joel nods and inspects the damage on her tire. The air is nearly fully gone, and it’s making her drive slump. 

Tire shouldn’t be more than thirty-five… Gonna have to head home for some stuff. Willing to wait an hour? When he turns to her, they’re shoulder to shoulder. 

Anna smirks, Whatever you need, mechanic. 

My dad, Joel corrects, He taught me the basics when I was like… twelve. 

Her voice lowers, Good on him… Earned me a discount, eh? A hand claps down on his shoulder and gives it an encouraging squeeze, and he revs to life. 

He swears the tips of his ears are red hot, Sure… minus that deposit. I needa twenty for emotional damages. 

Fuck off. Her eyes are soft, Might never go to the shop again. You’re officially my car fixer-upper. Fuck these grease-balls n’ their price spikes. 

Joel snorts, You get into that many goddamn accidents? 

She leans in closer, and his throat closes. Slams shut. Turns to dust. 

You’ll find out, mechanic.

That’s why you’re spending so much time on it, Ellie notes at Joel’s retelling before a harsh gasp escapes her. Dude, were you in love with my mom or somethin’?

The man stutters and coughs, No — what? I told you she was a frien—

Ellie snickers with a judgmental point, Yeaaah, yeaaah, I know how these things go. You sucker! 

What the hell — I’m not a sucker… And what things—

Anna and Joeeel sitting in a tree! — 

A pillow smacks Ellie dead in the face, and she topples over in cackles. Joel rubs deep in his temples. Ellie would’ve loved Sarah. Two little bullies who feast on his suffering. 

No more storytelling. I’m going to bed. 

You can’t! Remember? Ellie hollers as tears fall from her eyes. She coos at Joel when he lifts himself off the couch and down the hall, trying to mask his small smile. 

Aww! C’mon, old man, it was a joke! 

I can’t wait for you to go back to school, ya vermin! 

-

-

-

An exhausted Ellie creeps into Joel’s room half an hour later. She sighs in relief when she doesn’t hear snoring. Her mom was the worst when she was tired. She tiptoes across the carpeted floors until she’s in front of the unoccupied side of the mattress, stealthily adjusting the blankets and pulling back the sheets. 

She slowly manages to tuck herself in, fixing the pillows so her head rests on the cold side of the case, exhaling happily at the warmth defrosting her limbs. 

The second she dozed off, she yanked to consciousness by raspy sarcasm. Her eyes roll underneath her lids.

You can’t, either. Joel croaks, Remember?

JANUARY, 2010

Five days until school. Five days until misery. Five days until… strangers. Ellie’s skin crawls whenever she thinks about being an enclosed space with snot-nosed boys and soggy lunches. 

And math… Gross. 

Joel has been more than willing to postpone Ellie’s enrollment whenever she becomes anxious, but she always denies his requests. She’s grown to like Joel, but… he’s not the best teacher, especially social studies. Reviewing one of her old packets nearly gave him an aneurysm. She can’t afford to be homeschooled by him. 

What's been the best distraction from her impending doom? 

Binge watching Cars for the billionth time… And helping Joel patch up that blue Chevy. 

They celebrated their first victory last night for repairs, at least: Joel stuck and twisted the key to start up the engine, and it managed to stutter to life. For less than five seconds. The headlights barely came on and an old Foreigner record broke through the crackly speaker. They rejoiced with the brightest smiles as their hands slapped the dashboard before the vehicle crashed out once more. 

A glimmer of hope. A chance for reconnection. Anna’s sending them messages. The joy in that car shifted to grievance; Joel had to cradle Ellie in his lap as she wept into his shoulder. 

But there’s hope. Ellie wanted nothing more than to get this car working after that. Duty calls, though, and the alarm’s coming from a backpack. 

You got this, kid. Stop stressin’. 

Ellie, without a doubt in her mind, does not got this. 

Screaming children, muddy slides, bloody band aids; they’re all on the other side of that office door. Her worst nightmare has come to life, and she desires nothing more than to hide out in her mom’s car forever. The bag strapped around her shoulders matches the weight of a body. She refuses to let go of Joel’s hand as he speaks with the giggly receptionist who’s too happy to see him (what the hell), but it's okay; he’s holding hers just as tightly. Just as paranoid, apparently. 

She’ll be with Mrs. Lawson for the remainder of the year. Ellie hears the receptionist say over her pounding heart, She’s incredible! I’m sure they'll develop an amazing bond. 

Ellie’s palms are sweltering. Joel must feel it because his thumb nuzzles into her wrist. She’s not built for this. Maybe returning so soon wasn’t a great idea. She can’t do this without her mom. 

Cool backpack, Spidey, is said from behind her, and she stiffens instantly. 

She has a Spider-man backpack. 

Hush. An older man’s voice replies. Sounds strained. Stressed, but he only receives a light snicker from her in return. 

Ellie watches with squinted eyes as a young girl gets escorted towards the front of the office by… the principal, she assumes? He seems fancy in his suit slacks. 

You stay right here until I get your uncle on the phone, The suited man is stern towards the girl, who plops down on one of the waiting chairs. Backpack and all, You can explain to him how you swore at a teacher. I’m not dealing with this from you today. 

M’kay, Mr. Harris. 

Ellie observes the entire scene indiscreetly. Her stares are obvious, glued to the clearly agitated dean who stomps into his office. 

Where’d you get your backpack? 

Ellie’s stunned at your sudden whisper. She shocks herself when she quietly stutters,

Um… Walmart? 

You smile, I like it. I want one. 

Ellie simply nods, but gets paused before she can redirect her attention to Joel. 

Are you new? Your voice grows quieter when you look over your shoulder. Right at the principal’s door. I am, too. I just moved schools. 

This shocks the brunette. The new year just started, and you're already locked in the office with evidently angry staff. 

Yeah… I’m new. 

Something in your grin shifts. Ellie’s nails lock into Joel’s hand. … Interesting— 

Young lady! Did Mr. Harris give you permission to speak? 

You audibly ponder like the attendance clerk asked you to solve a riddle. 

No, ma’am. I apologize. 

Then hush. Not another word. 

Ellie watches you fold your hands politely, twiddling your thumbs. Your eyes don’t leave her backpack. 

Ready, kiddo? 

Her eyes finally reconnect with Joel’s, encouraging and chocolate, and she nods. He guides her to the office exit where her new life resides. Before their departure, she can’t help but take one last respectful glance over her shoulder. She finds you staring with a quirked lip and your wrist outstretched like your shooting spider webs at her. Ellie jerks her head forward and releases the breath she’s been holding. 

What a weirdo. 

tagggiiiiessss :3: @inf3ct3dd @fleshunger @sawaagyapong @elliesbitchh @aouiaa @elliesatchel @williamellieslilho @elliewilliamgfooc @bready101 @myluvforstarz

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams au #ellie williams #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams tlou #lesbian #streetracer!ellie #works 𖧧࣪ #ellie williams x f!reader

[sheisjoeschateau]

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART IV

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

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: major character death (?), more plot-driven smut, strong language, anxiety-inducing themes, panic attacks, co-dependency, hot n heavy but low-key emotional s*x. MINORS, DNI. 18+

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

When you do manage to get yourself out of bed and dressed for the day, which consists of an oversized long sleeved shirt that you stole from your uncle (because you liked it) along with some leggings and long white socks, you tell yourself to take a deep breath and accept whatever fate awaits you.

You've made your bed (literally, and figuratively speaking) so now you have to... well, not lie in it...

Anyway.

You walk downstairs to smell Steve at work in the kitchen, cooking up something delicious. Eddie sees you first, on the couch.

He grins and waves. "Mornin’, princess.”  

You smile and give him a little wave. "Howdy."

Robin walks in with a first aid kit to give him fresh bandages, visibly sagging with relief when she sees you.

“Oh thank God, you’re up. These kids are already on one...”

You can’t help but snort a laugh at that, taking in her frazzled state, and you ask her what you can do to help but she just says in a desperate voice, “Coffee, please, I love you.”  You grin and nod, hearing her and Eddie fussing over his dressing as you make for a hot cup of coffee.

You can hear the kids all around the corner, chirping lively from the kitchen. Even El is in there participating. Hopper’s voice is in the mix somewhere, grunting something about “indoor voices.”  Your uncle is arguing over something with Erica, balls deep in a heated debate.

When you round the corner, your eyes first land on Nancy. She’s sitting at the bar with Jonathan. She smiles at you shyly. Jonathan greets you out loud.

“Bauman Squared is up.”

The kids all get in a tizzy of excitement. Erica’s excitement is short-lived, given her intense debate with your uncle. But Dustin is rushing over to you, blabbering about something pertaining to the lifespan of canned goods, and Mike is chiming in from the table saying, “No, Dustin, hold up, okay?  So, Bauman, this is actually how it started.”

But your uncle cuts him off, asking them why they call you that when you both share the same last name. Joyce teasingly points out that he’s Murray and you’re Bauman.

Hopper adds to that, “yeah man, get with the program. Your niece is our favorite.” He shoots you a wink, and you give him a finger gun of approval.

Your uncle is rolling his eyes, but shoots you a desperate look — “Coffee. Black. Strong. Gracias.”   Erica resumes her debate with him.

You grin as you move to go get your uncle a much needed cup of coffee, finding that Steve has stopped flipping the pancakes to look at you with a soft smile and scooting over a hot mug of coffee to you. 

But it’s not for your uncle. It’s for you.

“Two sugar, light cream, right?”   

The way that Steve murmurs the question to you makes you weak in the knees. You settle for giving him a tight-lipped grin and nod.

“Yeah, thank you,” you murmur back.

Steve moves to grab another mug, moving to pour another cup of straight black coffee for your uncle. You can’t help but notice the curve of his biceps as he does, secretly admiring his face while the coffee pours from the pot. The way his white t-shirt fits him just right, his gray sweatpants sitting at the jusssst right point of his hips.

You swallow. Fuck.

You get a hold of yourself before he’s handing it over to you. He winks. “It’s strong. I promise.”

You smirk back at him, raising the glass in thanks before walking it over to your uncle.

You don’t notice the way that Steve tries to hide the overwhelming thoughts in his brain, signaling his evolving feelings for you.

And you also don’t notice now Nancy catches it, or how it uncomfortably makes her heart seize...

But you do notice your uncle staring at you with those damn all-knowing-eyes, while Erica incessantly jabbers on about whatever the hell they’re debating. You and Murray exchange the quietest but most intense glares.

And Hopper's got half a donut hanging out of his mouth as he happens to catch the tail end of this. He wants to ask, but decides it’s best to hold off on that.

***

The day goes well. The house is always staying busy, so it keeps you all that way. Hopper is calling for a family meeting in the living room, which gets everyone in a tizzy.

The boys will always, at some point, try to take over. It takes both Joyce and Hopper to set them straight.

Your uncle makes sure to throw in his usual statement: “peanut gallery hours will follow the meeting, thank you.” 

This meeting is no exception, and it goes exactly like that.

Will makes great points, as always — and he is allowed to, along with El, given their ties to the supernatural.

Jonathan and Nancy always listen the best. One of them takes notes.

Normally, you sit next to your uncle or Eddie while Steve always takes a seat next to Robin. 

But this time, as you sit next to Murray at the end of the couch listening to Hopper try to push through his conference lecture while Dustin interjects like crazy, your heart flutters as Steve moves from the staircase over to sit on the arm of the couch -- next to you.

You sit still, not letting yourself react or look up at him. But you also forget to breathe. Thankfully, he’s too busy telling Dustin to can it so he doesn’t notice.

Robin is slowly shifting back in her seated position in the large loveseat, having been prepared to make room for Steve. She’s too grateful to have it to herself to feel suspicious yet.

Eddie, however, clocks it. What “it” is, necessarily? He doesn’t know.  Like honestly, he’s not even in the ballpark.  But still, he notices so yay gold star.

Nancy does know what “it” is, though, when she catches it.  Or at least she has an inkling.  She’s not the note taker today, so she’s able to catch it. She wonders to herself if maybe she is just overthinking it, given her conflicted feelings for Steve while still with Jonathan.

Steve is actively participating in the conversation with the adults, and you chime in as well. Once you’ve gotten a grip on yourself.

Something is being said about needing to go on a supply run, but also how they need to get over to the main field and see what is happening at the lab — which is now squared off with all electric fencing. The kids are LOUD, demanding it be them. Hopper shuts that down real fast.

“So help me Goddddd, listentome.” — Hopper

“Kids, shh, calm down…” — Joyce

“FETUSES, SILENCIO.”  — Murray

The kids relent with rolled eyes and groans of displeasure. Hopper rubs his temples, resetting.  Then speaking —

“I will be assigning roles. You will hear them, and you will accept them.  Deal?”

Everyone nods, agreeing. Even the kids. Great, you think, so they’ve learned to know better than push their luck that far…

Hopper is assigning 4 separate groups to 4 separate tasks. 

In one group: Robin, Nancy, Will and Joyce. They will be making the supply run.

In the 2nd group: Dustin, Erica and Murray will be staying here to run the command center. Murray’s the boss. He grins, but also wants to jump off a cliff for the fact he has been assigned the responsibility of managing the two loudest kids in the group. Lucas will also stay with Max, while on lookout at base.

In the 3rd group: Hopper, El, Mike and Argyle as the driver. They’ll be assessing the damage done, pertaining to the gate re-opening. They’re on Vecna patrol.

In the 4th group: Jonathan, Steve, you and Eddie. You’ll all be venturing over the fence to spy on the lab and get a look at what is happening over there, while reporting back to Group 2.

This sends Dustin to a fit of determination, as he insists that he joins your group so that he can help with the walkie-talkie communication since Lucas and Erica can man the fort. (Murray definitely takes offense to that.)

Hopper huffs but doesn’t disagree with the suggestion. “Don’t let this give you any sort of false pretenses, kid. This is the one suggestion you’ve made that is sensible.”

Dustin just grins like a dopey idiot. Then he looks at Steve. “Yay!”

Steve rolls his eyes but honestly, he’s cool with having his buddy.

The plan is to go into effect early tomorrow morning. Meaning, everyone needs to get some good ass sleep and tuck in early.

You’re in your room now, having just showered and put on your pajamas with freshly brushed teeth. You’re putting together your combat outfit for tomorrow when there’s a knock at your door.

You expect it to be your uncle, since earlier he was going over strategies with you for an obscenely long time — which is his very awkward way of indirectly saying, “hey, you’re my niece and I love you and I’m worried about you because that’s what family does.” So you figure he’s drawn up another 10 plans to run by you, and you're happy to humor him on them.

But it’s Steve on the other side, looking shy and like he might’ve had to talk himself into doing this in fear of how you might react.

You give him a surprised but pleasant smile. He stands there, returning it timidly. There is a silence that falls over both of you. Then finally —

“Can I sleep in here tonight?”

You have to literally restrain yourself from jumping at that question with a way-too-eager oh thank god, yes. Instead, you just give him a polite grin.

“Yeah, of course,” you say.

Steve lets himself in, and he looks over to see your outfit set aside for tomorrow. He nods at it as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Tryna look badass?”

You smirk. “I am a badass. I’m a Bauman.”

You expect Steve to scoff. To roll his eyes. Make some snide remark. But he doesn’t. He just looks at you, with that same look on his face that he had this morning while you two laid in bed together. You can’t break away your gaze for a moment, almost hypnotized.

God, he is so beautiful. Why the fuck is he so beautiful?

Finally, you break the stare down by moving to get your combat boots out from the closet and place them beside the clothes.

And that’s when you feel it. His fingers brushing the edge of your t-shirt, hooking onto it so that you turn around. You do, letting him turn you to face him. He’s looking at you intently, and slowly he pulls you towards him to cage you between his spread legs as he sits on the edge of the bed. It’s half shy, half confident. Gentle but assertive. You stare down into his doe eyes, and you hold your breath when his fingers splay across your hips as they grip onto you. You’re so close to him now, too close yet somehow not close enough. You can’t breathe.

After soaking you in, Steve reaches one arm up to pull your neck down to his face so that he can brush the tip of his nose against yours, just like you did last night. Ever so slowly, be nuzzles. Eskimo kiss.

And then his lips are finding their way to be against yours.

Steve kisses you softly, taking his time and just breathing you in. Then he sighs into your mouth as he stands so that he can lift you up, making you swing your legs to wrap around his waist and hold yourself to him there. He turns you both around, effortlessly walking you over to sit on top of the chest of drawers. Damn, he's strong. Steve places you there, lips still on yours, before he finally pulls back.  His hands glide down to the bottom of your shirt. Please, his eyes ask. But this time, he wrenches your shirt off of you with more vigor than last night. It’s urgent, and it’s still urgent when his lips crash back into yours before wrenching himself back again so that you can tug his shirt over his own head. He grunts impatiently, wanting to not be apart from you yet needing to be skin to skin. He paws and grabs at you, needy and greedy, but something about it feels a whole lot more like love than lust.

Steve tastes like summer. Sunscreen, popsicles and June. He smells like pool water and boyfriend. And he looks like a dream. 

You wonder how in the world he would have felt if he’d been told during his King Steve era that one day, he’d be having sex with that one student who graduated a year early and didn’t belong to any niche crowd or group or clique. You wonder if he would scoff at that, wave it off. Say, nah, that girl? Never.

But the way that Steve keens into your neck right now, murmuring sinful names for you like angel and baby, makes you wonder if King Steve wouldn’t be able to understand that the new and improved Steve Harrington might just happen to be into things he never was into before. Maybe he’d gotten close with Nancy. Maybe you were a rebound. But he didn’t kiss you like that. Or treat you like that after your first time, for that matter...

And the second time was just as euphoric as the first time, just different. Steve was more in control, clinging to you and unafraid to go for it.

Before you know it, you’re up against the wall with your bare chest against it and your legs spread widely and his mouth on your ear. Tugging at your earlobe with his teeth and his shaky breathing, infused with his pleasured grunting humming inside of your eardrums. You pant and bite back the screams that you so fucking badly want to release. but you don't, not wanting to wake the entire household or get the attention anyone awake.  However, you made sure that he knew you were in pure fucking bliss with the way you arched your back into him and dripped all over his girth.

“Been wanting to be here inside you all day,” he rasped, thrusting against you. “Didn’t wanna leave this room.” His words break up as he pounds himself deeper into your guts. “Needed to — to — n-n-need you —”

You throw your head back against him, climaxing at his words for the second time in a row tonight. His arm linked around your waist tightens, gripping you like a lifeline, and he chokes into your ears — which only sends you into an orgasm unlike anything you’ve ever felt in your life. And Steve shares the exact same experience as you do when he ejaculates inside of you.

You both pant and gasp for air, your heart rates racing at lightning speed and trying to level out. You’re both slick with sweat and sex, and as Steve rests his head against your shoulder it sends chills up your arms when his hair flops and tickles your bare skin.

Steve pulls out of you, and you shiver as you feel him leave your body, inch by inch. The loss of him is overwhelming, and your legs shake. But before you can even move to catch yourself, Steve is already turning you to him with a steady grasp on you.

The way that Steve strokes your hair, moving it out of your face as he stares into your eyes again, is priceless. You can’t help it…

“You’re beautiful, Steve Harrington.” You breathe it against his face, still catching your breath. The corners of your lips twitch, almost like you want to laugh or smile. “I can’t stand you.”

Steve looks at you like you’re all that matters in this world. The pads of his thumbs stroke the skin under your eyes, softly, gingerly. He moves to press his lips to the corner of your mouth, breathing against it, “I can’t stand you either.”

Feather-like kisses are pressed to the corner of your mouth and cheek, and you revel in the glory of it, pressing your skull into the wall with your eyes fluttering shut.

Steve falls asleep first that night, with you tucked underneath his chin and with his arms holding you protectively. You let the sound of his steady breathing lull you to sleep.

***

The next morning comes sooner than you’d like.

You feel someone squeeze you tightly to them, pressing their lips to the crown of your hair before they roll out of bed. You watch as Steve’s back muscles flex while he tugs his sweatpants back over his boxers, then throws his shirt back on and heads to your little en-suite bathroom for a few minutes. You force yourself to sit up, knowing that it’s time and you’ll need to get ready.

Hopper would be so mad if he knew about the 5 hours of sleep you got, versus the 8.

You’re pulling out a pair of socks to go with your boots when Steve emerges from the bathroom, and before you can stand up and move to switch places — he’s cupping your cheeks to kiss your forehead in two lingering pecks. You smile under his touch.

You give him the shyest of looks before going to brush your teeth, re-shower and get changed.

Steve quietly murmurs to you the promise of coffee as he leaves. And he is all you think about in the shower.

You get changed into your army pants, combat boots, and fitted t-shirt. You grab yourself a windbreaker and throw your go-bag over your shoulder, ready to face the day.

Dustin is securing the command center with Murray and Erica, while Mike comes over to you carrying snacks.

“Here, I set extra aside so that you have plenty.”  Mike always treated you more like a sister than Nancy, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by her. You ruffle his hair and give him a quick squeeze, grateful.

Lucas and Will are asking you questions about the trip, along with Mike, and you assure your kiddos that you’ll all be fine.

Hopper comes over to you with Murray, entrusting you with one of their guns. “You’re the group's team lead today, along with Steve.”

Steve’s got his nail bat, along with a pistol.

Murray is going over the inner workings of the lab’s field layout with you and your group.

“The break switch is in this building,' he's saying. "But thanks to Erica and Dustin, we’ve got a way of hacking into it at exactly this time. You’ll have this much time to mount the electric fence and get to the other side. Seize. Those. Minutes. Haul ass. Get to the other side.  No asking why the chicken crossed the road. Capiché?”

The way that Jonathan, Eddie and Steve repeat the word back to him makes you visibly bite back a laugh.

Joyce is giving everyone the nurturing mama bear talk, hugging everyone too many times — especially Jonathan. She has Will in her group, so she’ll be a little more sane in the head thankfully.

Nancy and Jonathan are giving each other an affectionate goodbye that Steve doesn’t even notice. Nancy wonders if he does. Silently, and selfishly, she hopes he does. But he doesn’t.

Robin is rambling about something having to do with a jump-ship plan in case the jump-ship plan doesn’t work, and if they need to establish not only a 2nd abort —

“— but maybe even a 3rd abort? and wait is there really enough backpacks that they’re taking to fit all the supplies and can goods that they — ”

“Oh my god, Robin, please breathe,” Steve cuts her off.

“Wait, what’s the jump ship plan?” Argyle’s question makes everyone whip their head in his direction with incredulous looks on their faces.

Hopper looks ready to slug someone but also like a nervous dad. After he goes back over the plan for everyone, giving the bullet points, he tells you all to eat your breakfasts and be by the front door within 30 minutes or else.

Lucas takes his plate up to sit with Max. El comes over to talk with you about the day, saying that she’ll send a signal if she sees anything dangerous headed your way at the lab. She gives you a tight hug, which tugs at Hopper’s heart. He and Murray share a very rare, quiet moment with an exchange in their eyes. Our girls.

Steve is telling the boys and Erica to follow him upstairs to Max’s room to join Lucas for a motherly pep talk, and they all follow him like chicks following a mother hen.

Eddie is being given strict instructions by Robin to follow orders and not rip his stitches that she’s worked hard at keeping in tact by mounting the wall --

...“and be on the damn lookout only so help me god or else I’ll rip them back open myself,” she threatens him.

Eddie visibly swallows and nods at that, believing her.

Suddenly Nancy is walking up to you, as you stand there still hugging El while looking over Murray’s shoulder at his computer system setup. She looks nervous as you turn to her.

“Hey, umm, keep an eye on them, will you?” she asks shyly, sheepishly. “I worry about them. Especially Dustin.”

You know she meant Steve. “Yeah. Of course.”

Nancy nods awkwardly, grateful you didn’t correct her and a little embarrassed. She points to the gun on your back, giving you a tight-lipped grin. “Glad it’s you handling that bad boy.”

She flashes the same one across her back. You chuckle lightly, agreeing with her. “Yeah, the last thing we need is for Eddie to get his hands on this or else he’ll murder the whole town.”

Nancy giggles.

Eddie snickers at the joke, appreciating your dark humor. He gives you a wry smile. “Thanks princess, but I only prefer bone crushing, eye sucking curses.”

You all eat some whole wheat eggos (even El) and some scrambled eggs. Plenty of water, plus some coffee.

Steve walks in to scoop up his plate during the last 10 minutes, and Hopper takes pity on him — given that he’s been with the kids.

“You get an extra 5,” Hopper tells him.

“Appreciate it, Hop.” 

Steve carries his plate over to the table, moving to sit by you and Murray — who does his best to just stare down at his coffee and ignore catching this in his peripheral vision. Sip, slurp.

It’s a quiet breakfast. Tense. Stiff. Everyone is nervous. This stuff never does get easier…

***

The kids all boom back down the stairs, loud as ever.

And everyone is out the door on time, minus the extra 5 minutes that Hopper secretly gave for Steve’s benefit. Thankfully, it goes unremarked but the kids.

You all put their hands in a circle because Dustin insisted a while back that you cannot all part ways without a group huddle. So it’s now become tradition. Everyone fist bumps in unison, and the four groups embark on their separate journeys.

Group 1 does well, making it into town. They have the bottom tier level of risk, which Hopper did intentionally for Joyce and Will's sakes because those are his hearts. He also adores the two girls, Nancy and Robin, of course. They carefully fill up Joyce’s car in doses, trying not to attract attention as everyone has a strict evacuation mandate that goes into place next week along with a food supply limit. They’re ahead of the game, doing everything not to give away what Dr. Owens warned them about.

Group 2 is in full swing, back at Casa Harrington. Erica and Murray bicker like a married couple, but they also high five. Lucas makes sure that Max is safely tucked in, giving her a kiss on the forehead and a promise to be back upstairs in a few hours.

Group 3 is cautious. They have to calculate every single move, given the risks. El uses her senses to tap in, blindfold on and static on the van's radio ringing throughout the car. Mike keeps watch, along with Argyle at the wheel — and Hopper navigates.

Group 4, your group, is en route. You have the longest journey to make on foot, making sure to keep their strength. Jonathan keeps watch of time, and Dustin hangs into the walkie-talkie to keep contact. You scan the area, and so does Steve, as you all walk. Eddie sings to himself to keep from wigging out, and it’s definitely giving mumbled panic.

You are telling everyone the ETA, using the compass. Steve tells the gang to keep the same pace so that they make sure they aren’t there too soon or too late, wanting to time it right with Group 2’s orders.

At some point, you gesture for everyone to pivot directions, and when Steve steps in your direction — he instinctively reaches out to brush the small of your back. It’s so subtle… yet so telling.

Eddie cocks an eyebrow mid-song, ceasing the mumbling altogether for about 2 solid seconds, before resuming as he walks. Even Jonathan raises an eyebrow, silently smirking.

Dustin misses it entirely.

Then Dustin starts communicating back and forth on the walkie-talkie with Erica, and as they start to bicker Steve interjects.

“Hey, dingus, cool it and listen to what she’s saying, please.”

Dustin huffs, whining, “but she’s wronnnng...” 

You squint in the sunlight as you look back at him, saying simply, “Listen to your mother.”

Steve doesn’t even flinch. You both just look back at your son expectantly. Dustin sighs but obeys.

Oh that definitely makes Eddie and Jonathan share a look.

Back at base, Murray is struggling to access the switch for the electric fence closest to where Group 4 (you guys) is approaching. He and Erica work hard at it, and Lucas helps as he keeps open the line of communication with Dustin via the walkie-talkie.

“This east side gate is a bitch,” Murray is griping over the channel.  “Hang tight, just pause when you guys make it there.”

Dustin and Lucas are going back and forth, while Jonathan tries to keep up with what they are all saying. 

You can see the fence up ahead, and so does Steve. 

Eddie’s singing gets louder.

Nancy speaks over the walkie-talkie channel: “Group 1, reporting.  Over.” 

Dustin speaks.  “Group 4, tuned in.  Over.” 

The other groups tune in, too.  Nancy continues in a hushed voice.  “Food supply is running low so we’re going to double up.  The mandate will be really strict.  Can’t take chances.  Over.” 

Jonathan tells her to keep them posted with the ETA.

El comes onto the walkie-talkie, asking for you. 

You take it, speaking: “Bauman squared, I copy.  Over.” 

Eleven tells you that she can see you all headed there to the lab, and that no one is nearby.  You’re safe. 

Hopper adds: “But Eddie, make sure that you stay tuned into this channel and relay it to Dustin just in case.  Over.”

Eddie’s song of woe dies on his lips with an anxious exhale.  “Roger that, over.”

Steve speaks up, “Alright guys, we’re here.” 

Dustin signals Murray, right on cue.  You all stare up at the looming electric fence in front of you.  It’s tall.  At least 30 feet up.  You gulp.  So does Jonathan.  For Steve, it’s easy.  For Dustin, well, it’s exciting.

Jonathan adds to the relayed info, addressing Murray, saying, “Yeah, uhhh, it’s pretty high up man?” 

Murray’s tone comes through, crisp.  “How high is high?” 

Jonathan visibly shrinks back as he squints in the sunlight. “Like...25-30 feet?”

Murray curses on the other side, frustrated.  “Alright, hold please.”

Steve turns over to face you all, starting with you.  “It’s gonna be a helluva climb.”

You nod.  “We’ll have to double up the speed, guys.  But for safety, let’s just do two at a time.”

Jonathan’s brow furrows.  “Why?”

You tell them it’s safest this way.  This way, two people can gauge the timing of it just in case.  Dustin immediately demands to go in the first group, which Steve shuts down promptly — like all good mothers would with their favorite child.  He starts to onboard Jonathan, but you’re already saying you’ll go as you tighten up your bag.  Steve looks at you, hesitant. 

You look back at him, giving him a nod.  “No arguments.”

Steve sighs through his nose.  “Yeah, I figured as much.” 

He’s so sexy when he isn't actually hating you, and instead just consistently miffed with you…

“Group 4, listen up,” Murray’s voice comes over the walkie-talkie.  “I’m signaling the switch now.  On my mark, it will take exactly 3 minutes for it to activate.  You’ll have 60 seconds to climb it.  Up and down.  That’s it.  Remember what I said: haul ass.”

Dustin responded back with a sigh, “Steve and Bauman Squared insist on going two at a time so…”  He dreads the next question, cringing before asking.  “Any chance you guys can…do it…twice?”

You turn around, waiting to hear your uncle’s reply and wondering if you’ll need to step in.  His befuddled response confirms, yes you will, and you walk over to take the walkie.

“Uncle Murray, it’s not very sturdy.  It’s too big a risk, four at a time.  If you can’t do it, then just me and Steve will go.  What can we do?  Over.” 

You speak matter-of-factly, which Steve appreciates.  He stands with his hands on his hips and tongue between his teeth, all hot and mom-like.  Even though for you...he’s giving daddy.

Eddie has been pacing a trough into the grass.  Please let me have company, he thinks.

Jonathan’s just quiet, wondering if now is a good time to tell everyone that he’s actually afraid of heights. 

Dustin just wants to fucking climb already.

“Workin’ on it.  Standby.”  Your uncle’s monotone voice makes you all wait. 

You stare up at the fence while you do.  Then, turning your face over in Steve’s direction, you find that he’s already gazing over at you.  That fondness in his eyes is back, and you feel your cheeks flush under the sun.  But it’s not the sun making you blush.  Steve's hands are still on his tips, and he gives you a tiny wink before turning to look back at Dustin with the walkie-talkie.  He tells his kid not to stress about it if they can’t come, which only starts a back-and-forth argument between mother and son.  But Erica’s voice cuts through it over the walkie.

“Group 4 nerds, listen up.  We found a way to do it.  Over.”

Dustin pumps his fist in glee.  Jonathan doesn’t.  Eddie realizes he’s doomed, back to being there all alone. 

Steve takes the walkie, asking, “Same timeframes, Murray?  Over?” 

Your uncle confirms it, but then Lucas is in the background saying, “Wait, are you sure this will give them 60 seconds?” 

Steve raises an eyebrow at that.  But you’re looking at the top of the fence.  The end of the other side of the line is quiet for a hot minute.  No doubt, Murray and the kids are beefing.  Re-calculating.  Beefing some more.  Getting attitudes.  Then finally —

“Erica to group 4, confirming.  Timeframes are exact.  Wait for us to signal the 2nd climb.  Standby and brace for 1st climb.  Over.”

You and Steve look at each other.  Here we go.  He fastens his backpack, reaching out a hand to you and telling you to hand over yours.  You go to protest, but he’s just insisting without budging and reaching anyway.  It isn’t until his hand starts to slide the strap down your shoulder that you huff and relent. 

“30 seconds to climb.”

“There’s a ledge up there, wide enough to stand on.”  You nod up at it as you tell Steve.  “If we run low on time, we hang there until the 2nd climb.” 

Steve nods at you, agreeing.  He turns and relays that to a very anxious Jonathan and a very antsy Dustin.  You gesture over to Dustin, telling him to toss you his backpack.  Steve goes to argue but you hold up a hand. 

“Better me than him," you say quickly. It’s a parental thing that he would insist on too, so he lets you win that one. 

Dustin obeys after seeing mom agree with…um…dad? Are you dad?

“10 seconds to climb.”

Steve talks fast, in position to pounce.  “Eddie, on go, toss that branch to hit the fence.  Double check for sparks.”  Eddie nods, picking up the large branch nearby.  You get in position with Steve.

“5…4…3…2…1…climb!”

Eddie tosses the branch.  No electric shock.  All systems go.

You and Steve hop as high as you can, climbing up like champs.  You both hustle, swiftly making the climb like pro climbers.  Steve is faster, planning to reach down and lift you the rest of the way if he gets to the top first.  But you’re almost right at the same level with him, almost at the top.

…until your bag catches.

The strap of Dustin’s bag pulls you back down.  Air catches in your throat, no scream escaping your mouth as it swings you around, unhooks and makes you fall back some feet.  But you latch back onto the wall, back down to midway.  Fuck. 

Dustin gasps, Jonathan shouts your name.  Eddie starts his shit-shit-shit chant. 

You look down, realizing that it’s way too far of a drop to just fall back down and start over.  You are literally back to the mid-way point. 

You make up your mind within a few seconds: keep going.

Steve is hoisting himself up onto the thick ledge as this is happening, and when he turns to see you lower his heart stops. 

“Bauman, what happened??"

But you keep climbing, shouting, “Steve, just keep going.” 

But Steve is not having that.  He’ll fucking wait.  Hell, he’ll wait for Dustin too.  He’s staying put.  He shakes his head, clapping his hands and reaching for you even though you still have another fourth of the wall to mount before you reach him.

“30 more seconds.”  Oh thank God, that’s plenty.

”You got this, Bauman, c’mon...” Steve’s ready to hold you again.  Anxious.  So fucking anxious.

Dustin is cheering too, along with Eddie and Jonathan.  You’re fine.  Almost there.

You look at Steve at the top, leaning over the side looking down at you. You can see the anxious anticipation in his brown eyed gaze.

“20 more seconds.  Group 2, don’t forget to wait for our signal.”

But right as Murray stops talking — the wall buzzes. 

Everything happens in slow motion.  One second feels like a whole minute for all 5 of you in your group.  Your ears perk up at the sound.  That wasn’t an insect.  That’s mechanic.  That’s —

“Was that —”  Eddie barely started to ask the question you were all wondering.

“Fuck, Bauman — !!! ”  Jonathan’s voice is panicked with realization.

Steve’s brow furrowed, alarm and horror sweeping across his entire face.

You feel a scorch so hot, fire itself couldn’t have burned as badly as the electric shock that shot through your entire body did. 

In that single second, you felt your brain short circuit.

You felt your hands get shoved away from the wall, throwing you off with blinding force.

You felt your throat snap, and you felt your heart rumble inside of your chest...

And then you felt it stop.

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

:( im sorry, Steve.

author notes: I am sure that the fence thing might be weird and not accurate, but it helped my vision for how this chapter goes down. so I hope you all will be kind and not find it too "unrealistic." had to watch some stuff like the OG Jurassic Park, and get ideas for it.

tag list: @erastourvip @get0ut0fmyr00m @xprloki @eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00 @poppet05 @wiltedflowersundertowers

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #dustin henderson #stranger things fanfiction #murray bauman #enemies to lovers

[jacenbren]

Tokyo Jujutsu Tech students and staff and whether or not they can drive:

Gojo

Drives a hideous minivan he got off Craigslist to spite his parents

Claims to be a “responsible driver” but is super jerky on the brakes and blows through stop signs

The students love riding with him because he always stops to get McDonalds. Nanami fucking HATES getting in the car with Gojo and avoids it at all costs

Talks incessantly to himself and to passengers while driving and constantly sings along to the radio

Yuuji

Currently learning to drive from Gojo (aka driving around while Gojo sits in the passenger seat with a milkshake and overshares about his past while occasionally yelling at Yuuji to speed up)

Inherited a tiny shitty old car from his grandpa and refuses to part with it

Drives either way too fast or really damn slow and there’s no in between

Can’t drive without the music on full blast because he’s used to Gojo talking his ear off

Megumi

Taught himself how to drive and refused to let Gojo teach him

Always goes exactly the speed limit and bitches about it whenever someone cuts him off (has attempted multiple times to summon Mahoraga on shitty drivers)

Absolutely VICIOUS when it comes to the aux cord and is a staunch supporter of the “the driver picks the music” rule

Gojo buys him a new car every year for his birthday but Megumi prefers his first car (a jeep. don’t ask why.)

Nobara

HORRIBLE road rage

Always going at least ten miles above the limit and has more speeding tickets than she does overcharged credit cards (Yuuji is holding on for dear life whenever he rides with her)

Convinced Gojo to buy her a luxury sports car and managed to dent it horrendously after two (2) weeks

Her car is always so full of shopping bags and makeup and other stuff that you can barely sit down

Yuuta

Also learned how to drive from Gojo and it shows

Doesn’t like driving because it triggers his anxiety and when he has to. oh boy.

Needs the car to be DEAD SILENT whenever he’s driving and sits hunched over in his seat with the look of a crazed chimpanzee in his eyes while he grips the steering wheel so hard he’s shaking

Doesn’t have a car and usually bums rides from Maki

Maki

A surprisingly decent driver but always goes way too fast and is notorious for tailgating people

Has at least two of the windows down at all times as long as it isn’t raining and always has her music on full blast

The only student who knows how to drive a stick shift. is weirdly proud of this fact.

Has a stereotypical straight-white-man-style lifted pickup truck that she refers to as “her baby”

Toge

Whips around corners at 20 miles over the speed limit and casually breaks every traffic law known to man but has never gotten a ticket thanks to his “expert persuasion techniques”

His car was one of Megumi’s cars before he stole it (Megumi doesn’t actually mind but he pretends to be annoyed on principle)

Drags Yuuta out every weekend to hotbox the car with him

Has like six of those little air fresheners that hang off the rear view mirror but they don’t exactly cover the weed smell

Panda

Somehow has a valid drivers license. no one knows how he got it.

Chews on the interior out of boredom when he’s stuck in traffic and the car constantly looks like a wild animal got loose in it

Has Yaga’s old car (a beat up old station wagon that doesn’t look great but hasn’t broken down in ten years)

Is the designated driver whenever the second and third years go out

Nanami

Owns the most beautiful classic car that he keeps spotlessly clean

An excellent driver who ALWAYS uses his blinkers and almost never loses his temper

Secretly salty that the students only to like ride with Gojo (it’s because Nanami never stops at McDonalds and always says something along the lines of “we have food at home”)

Curses out other drivers under his breath when he sees them driving recklessly

Shoko

Drives with one hand on the wheel and the other dangling out the window with a cigarette while blasting 90s dad rock

Bought a hearse years ago because she thought it would be funny

Would pick up Megumi and Tsumiki from school in the hearse if Gojo couldn’t make it

Megumi hates the hearse. Tsumiki loves it.

Yaga

Drives a tiny Kia soul and always has craft supplies all over the backseat because he forgot to bring them inside after his latest Joann’s shopping spree

Has a gigantic collection of mini plushies on the dashboard

Yells at people when they cut him off

Feels guilty about it whenever he has students in the car with him but can’t stop himself from yelling and ends up getting even more irritated and short-tempered because he feels guilty and the students riding with him are left in terrified silence as the vicious cycle continues

Hakari

Managed to single-handedly drive up Jujutstu Tech’s car insurance by thousands of dollars

#if y’all like this I might do the kyoto school too lol #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #yuuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #yuuta okkotsu #maki zenin #toge inumaki #panda jjk #kento nanami #shoko ieiri #yaga masamichi #hakari kinji #jjk headcanons #jacen writes

[mymoodwriting]

1.3k, horror, suspense, headaches, anxiety, breaking and entering, abuse, manipulation, threats, drugs, straykidsverse (@starillusion13)

“Who’s that?”

You had stepped out of the lab to get some air, feeling this headache coming on, and going over to the security guard on duty. He was watching the cameras, and you stole some of his chips when you noticed the elevator camera glitching. One moment it was empty, then there were a bunch of boys, then there was only one, and then that boy stared straight at you. A scream ripped from your throat and you jumped up. The guard looked at you but you went over to the exit door, looking down the hallway leading to the elevator.

You saw a different boy step out of the elevator with a smile on his face once he saw you. Yet in the next moment there was another boy, and then it changed again. You returned to the room, feeling the headache getting worse, but there were bigger problems now. You told the guard to set off the alarms, that there were intruders and protocol needed to be followed. You went into the next room, but you didn’t hear any alarms, so you quickly looked back. The guard was just as confused as you, telling you the alarm system wasn’t working. Then the door opened and a new face stepped in. They looked around and caught sight of you, waving.

“Hi, y/n!”

Your eyes went wide as they spoke your name, and you groaned from your headache getting worse. Whoever he, or they were, they knew your name, and they all spoke it. You had heard it multiple times in an instance. When you regained some sense you looked over to see another boy with blond hair standing before the security guard. You didn’t see much movement but in an instant the security guard was thrown against the glass wall, shattering it upon impact, and collapsing to the floor unconscious. 

You screamed and cowered away, slowly looking back and feeling relieved you didn’t have any cuts on you. As you got up you noticed a boy leaning against the security desk, and then it was like the world bent around him as the boy changed to another. There was a sudden ringing in your ears and you stumbled back a few steps. When it passed you looked up and your vision morphed again. Instead of just one boy, now there were multiples of the same one, or different ones appearing and disappearing before your eyes.

They all seemed so lay back and calm, then everything went still. Eight boys were present with you, and they had their eyes on you. One boy in particular began to walk towards you, and for every step forward you took a step back. Eventually you hit the counter and found yourself cornered, trying to make yourself small. This boy had a smirk on his face, and stopped a few feet from you. Despite your confusion and fear, you could see recognition in his eyes, which didn’t really make you feel any better. Yet as you stared at this boy, a name suddenly came to mind, in fact multiple ones did. All the boys around you weren’t complete strangers anymore, but it didn’t change the fact you had no idea who they really were.

“Remembering something?”

“… what… no… no I…”

“Don’t play dumb.” Hyunjin hissed. “Now why don’t you tell me my name?”

“…”

“Come on. I know you know it.”

“… Hyunjin…”

“Good. You see, you do know me, you know us.”

“I don’t…”

“You do.”

“What do you want from me? How do you know my name? How did you get in here!?”

“That’s not important. All that matters is what we do next.”

You found it hard to think clearly, but you knew that you had to get away from these guys. Since you were cornered against the counter you tried to secretly find something to throw. As soon as you had something in your hand you threw it at Hyunjin and made a run for the door in the corner that led to the lab. If you could get in there you’d be safe from them. You made it to the door, but you were too nervous to properly put in the code. Suddenly you felt a presence behind you, slowly looking over to see Hyunjin. He gave you a smile before entering the code and unlocking the door.

“Let’s go into the lab.”

“How… how did you…”

“A version of you told me.”

“What?”

“I’ll explain inside.”

Hyunjin pushed you forward into the lab, followed by the others. You thought to maybe try hitting the alarm in here, but Hyunjin kept you close. The others spread around the room, and you quickly had to shout at them not to touch anything.

“It’s fine.” Felix stated. “We already know what’s dangerous.”

“Then take whatever you want and leave!”

“What we want, is you.” Hyunjin remarked. “But don’t worry, we’ll take our leave once you’re on board.”

“I’m not helping you with whatever it is you want!”

“Maybe you won’t in this dimension, but another version elsewhere will.”

“What are you talking about!?”

“I told you not to play dumb. I know what you’re working on here.”

“I…”

“There’s a version of you out there with a thesis on multi-dimensional communication, meaning there had to be a version that actually created the device. I’m a little early, but that’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?”

“No… no that’s just-”

“A theory, I know, but multi-dimensional travel is possible.”

“What? Are you saying… you…”

“Not exactly. This version of me was born and raised in this dimension, as were the rest of my brothers, but we’ve all been… awakened.”

“… wa… what does that mean?”

“It means I’m connected to other versions of myself across multiple dimensions, as are you, well, not this you, at least not yet.”

“Stay back!” You pulled yourself free from Hyunjin. “I don’t want any part in your hive mind bullshit!”

Hyunjin chuckled. “It’s too late for that. We’re all connected across many other dimensions that you can’t help but feel our presence in your mind. Lemme guess, you saw doubles of us? All doing different things and in different places? As you can imagine there are other versions of you working here, so we decided to hit them all at the same time.”

“So… I… I was just seeing other versions of you storming the lab?”

“Yup. So a few of your doppelgangers will cooperate and give me what I want.”

“And what would that be?”

“I’m so glad you asked. The thing is, I’m looking for someone, and it could take forever to connect to every other version of me, and let me tell you, the whole process is exhausting. That makes you the key.”

“How?”

“Your technology. The idea is you wanna transmit radio waves across different dimensions, but I’m suggesting a slight upgrade. Instead of radio waves you transmit my brain waves.”

“What!”

“Easy enough. That way I can easily access the mind of my doppelgangers and conclude whether or not they have what I want. Would also make it much easier to figure out which versions of me are useful.”

“You’re insane! I don’t even know if that’s possible! And I’m not doing it!”

“That doesn’t matter. I’ll make you and even if you hold out, another version of you will give me what I want.”

“Never!”

“Unfortunately, it’s way too late for that.”

You started to hear this laughing in your head, reaching up to cover your ears, but it did nothing to help. Then you felt the headache returning and you fell to your knees. As you looked around the world was shifting again, but Hyunjin remained in place, a smile on his face and looking down on you. A moment later he had a green orb in hand, looking it over before dropping it on the floor and smashing it under his foot. You saw this green mist filling your vision, making you dizzy.

“Welcome to the Stray Kids hot megaverse.”

#stray kids #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han #felix #seungmin #i.n #christopher bang #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #skz #stray kids au #skz au #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz imagines

[bestworstcase]

ahaha. ahhaahah

she is going to spend the rest of the volume ripping herself apart to not be this

also god lmao “and penny—she—jaune tried to help, but she sacrificed herself to save the power” lol. lmao. weiss says the quiet part out loud but man. “jaune tried to help”—says the girl who lunged straight at cinder fall to protect her friend, who fought so hard to try to give jaune time to save penny and nearly died herself in doing so. “penny sacrificed herself to save the power” says the girl who is alive now because of that sacrifice. it all happened so fast. nobody came back from vacuo to help. jaune tried to help, but—weiss wasn’t good enough, and no one else was there. god. weiss sweetheart her blood is not on your hands.

“you weren’t supposed to be here”/“if you thought we wouldn’t come for you” ruby rose master of spin but also like yang straight up woke up in wonderland and concluded she was dead and the one thing she had left to hold on to was that at least she died saving her baby sister. at least it was her and not the others. and then they’re THERE and all she sees is my sister is dead until ruby makes it sound like they came here on purpose. to find her. if they came to rescue her then they can’t be dead and maybe she isn’t either lmao god. yang has been here five minutes and already gone on a whole emotional roller coaster while RWB got lost on the beach.

also she rly went welp i’m dead and a raccoon stole my arm so i’m gonna uno reverse the jabberwock about it, how do you like THESE eyes of flame you fucker. which is like the most yang thing she could possibly do lmfao. you think she’s traumatized? could a traumatized person do THIS? *chases a monster until she’s so exhausted she can barely stand* girl literally does not know what to do with herself if she’s not taking care of somebody else so she just goes apeshit on the most dangerous-looking thing in the vicinity because that’s WHO SHE IS, isn’t it, that’s what makes her special, every time something knocks her down she picks herself up and punches it back twice as hard, except it’s not working anymore. this time the monster runs away and yang runs herself into the ground clinging to this empty pantomime. “i said i wasn’t done with you yet!”—she sounds so strong—like the one liner, the rock to the back of the head, it’s a pitch perfect heroic entrance and then

babygirl you are serving yourself to the monsters on a silver platter again.

anyway

hysterical that blake just fucking body slams her. local bisexual gets in touch with her inner freight train. love is stored in the broken ribs

blake is also shaping up to be the one who lands on her feet and i am really intrigued by how strongly the ever after responds to her decisiveness; “i think we focus on getting everything back, then we can figure out how to get out of here” and the sunlight breaks through the clouds as the rain that answers ruby’s misery stops. it’s interesting because it positions blake pretty blatantly as a direct inversion of ruby, emotionally, in this moment, and the contrast being underlined here is specifically ruby’s overwhelming, paralytic despair vs blake’s clear-eyed focus on the what’s immediately in front of them. RWY are getting sucked into this vortex of anxiety about what happened after they fell but blake really hits the ground running. right out of the gate, she found weiss and immediately settled on a clear, achievable objective (find gambol shroud by piecing together its probable location based on when it fell in relation to herself and weiss and where they landed), already thinking ahead to what their next step should be after that (find yang and ruby) and trying to piece together what exactly this place is. she’s able to take a deep breath and shelve her feelings about the things she doesn’t know and can’t control in order to break her and her team’s current situation down into small, manageable steps even though she’s just as scared, confused, and upset as they are—

which 1. god she’s grown SO MUCH since the fall of beacon, and 2. what we’re looking at here is, i think, the first open salvo against the huntsman ethos. blake recognizes intuitively that their first priority right now is themselves. they’re not huntresses down here. they’re not the noble defenders of mankind; whatever the situation in vacuo is, it is wholly and completely out of their control and there’s nothing they can do to change that. so she’s putting it down. and as she lets that burden fall off her shoulders the sunlight pours through the clouds to show her the way forward.

#rwby v9 spoilers

[justsomerandomfanfic]

The Thief That Stole My Heart - Jasper Badun X GN Reader

Title: The Thief That Stole My Heart

Jasper Badun X GN Reader

Additional Characters: John, Cruella, Wink, and Artie (Mentioned)

Requested by @micheleamidalajedi!!

WC: 2,386

Warnings: Anxiety, nervousness, slight-embarrassment on both parts, Cruella is her own warnings, confession, and fluff

You quickly rushed down the long pebble driveway, your legs burning from all the walking you had to do to get to the Manor in the first place. Your day had started terribly. You woke up late, so you only had a little bit of time to get ready. You forgot your bag, so you had to get back into your apartment to get it. And you couldn't for the life of you get a taxi, so you had to walk all the way from your apartment to Hell Hall. Overall, you were having a terrible day, and you were hoping you wouldn't get fired on your first day. 

You met the amazing fashion designer, Cruella de Vil when you had been sketching at a small park. Somehow, by some miracle, the Cruella de Vil was in that very same park and had seen your work. And then, she offered you a job. You'd accepted immediately, and after the initial shock, and after she left, you almost screamed with joy. It was an odd experience, you never thought you would ever meet your fashion idol. 

So, here you were, out of breath, at the large double doors of the manor, and you were beyond nervous and hoped that you weren't late. Knocking on the door, you brushed your hair out of your face, and stood up straight. Brushing the nonexistent dust and grime from your outfit, the door opened. A man, whom you thought was possibly the butler or valet, gave you an odd look, probably because you were still slightly out of breath. 

"May I help you?" He then asked, and you nodded, giving the man a small sheepish smile.

"I'm Y/N L/N. I was recently hired by Miss de Vil as her designer assistant. I was told to meet her at eleven-thirty at Hell Hall." You explained quickly, before shrugging one shoulder, "Uh, I'm not late, am I?" He looked at you curiously again, but then shook his head slowly.

"No. You are ten minutes early," He said, looking down at his watch briefly before opening the door wider for you to enter. "Miss de Vil will see you now. I'll take you to her office."

"Um, thank you!" You replied, a tiny smile crossing your lips. "Um," You continued, clearing your throat, and entering the giant entranceway, "May I ask your name?"

"John." He answered simply, "Please, follow me."

You nodded, clutching your bag in front of you and following the man around the manor and up the lavish stairs. You couldn't stop staring at the beautiful masterpieces on the wall, and the elegant furniture in the hallways. Stopping at a door, John knocked on it, and your heart began to race when you heard Cruella say 'enter'. John opened the door for you and you gave him another small smile as a thank you before you entered the room. 

Cruella sat at her desk, writing or sketching something before she lifted her gaze, her brilliant eyes meeting yours. "Oh! Darling, you made it." She exclaimed, before gesturing for you to take a seat in a chair before her desk. 

You walked over, giving her a smile as you sat, "Yes, I'm sorry I'm a bit early." You laughed awkwardly as Cruella waved her black-gloved hand, dismissing your thoughts.

"Oh, never mind that. Better early than late. Now, let's get down to business." She spoke, clasping her hands together on her desk as she gave you a small smirk. "I'd like you to be my personal designer assistant. You'd help me with a few design choices, and run a few errands for me, nothing too strenuous. You may wear what you desire, just as long as it is professional. And you'll be working nine to five. And your break will be at twelve to one just like my other designers." Cruella finished, "Any questions?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

You shook your head rapidly, feeling your mouth go dry as you fought to form words. "No, ma'am."

Cruella smiled slightly at your reaction, "Please, call me Cruella, darling. Now we can move on to more interesting topics. I know you live rather far from my workshop, so I have a... Proposition for you." You gulped, staying quiet as she continued, "You would start tomorrow, designing and making dresses with the rest of my team. You’ll meet Artie later, an absolute gem. And, I was thinking you could move in here.”

Your jaw dropped, 'Live... Here?" You asked, and Cruella nodded. "What about my apartment?" 

"Well," Cruella began, grabbing a few pieces of paper from her desk and handing them to you, "I already have spoken with a close friend of mine, and he will be able to hold a payment down on a house near Buckingham. So, once you are done working for me, you can move into this home." 

You looked at the paperwork in your hands, a few of the papers were written documents about your work plan, and the others were blueprints of the home, and the payment finalization. The home, from the pictures, was beautiful. You could imagine yourself living there, and being able to draw and paint all day. You looked up at Cruella, who watched you with a smirk on her red painted lips, "I don't want to intrude on anyone. And this is beyond kind but-" You said quietly, glancing around the room once again.

"My dear," She began, giving you a look, "This isn't some charity project. Instead of running back and forth from your apartment, you can stay here. I have the space. And, lastly, the home… Think of it as a gift.”

You felt like a fish out of water, as you looked up from the paperwork to Cruella, "That doesn’t really make any sense… But… Are... Are you sure?"

“Of course, darling!" Cruella exclaimed, "I don’t want you to have extra work."

You nodded slowly, looking to the side to think. It would be easier to live in the manor. Not having to walk back and forth, to and from everywhere you had to go. Plus, you would get to live in a Manor, that’s something not everyone has the chance to do. Looking back to Cruella, you smiled and nodded. “Alright.”

“Marvelous.” She clapped her hands together, standing up from her seat, she walked around her desk as you stood up. “Shall we find you a room?” She asked and you nodded.

Maybe, just maybe... You'd like it there...

~~~

Oh, who were you kidding? You loved it.

For the past couple of weeks, you drove with Cruella every weekday to work, running around London to bring her things she needed, giving her your opinion and input on certain designs she may have problems with. It was exciting, and you enjoyed helping her immensely. It was also very relaxing since Cruella didn't yell, or put you down, like your prior employers. Instead, she listened. Listened to you talk about your drawings and sketches, and cared about your opinions. Cruella even allowed you to design one of the outfits in her Summer Collection.

Sitting at your desk in your own small but special office, you sketched in your sketchbook. Humming to a song that was playing on the radio beside you, gently brushing your pencil across the page. Unconsciously sketching the man that you had your mind on. Your pencil softly shaded in his curly hair, before sketching the finishing touches of his eyes. At a soft knock at the door, your heart skipped a beat and you instantly smiled, looking up to see Jasper at your door, holding a brown paper bag. Jasper quietly entered, a small smile on his face.  

"Hello, Y/N.” He greeted you softly. You smiled brightly at him, and Jasper seemed to feel his smile grow slightly. Smiling back at you, Jasper closed the door behind him as he walked over to sit opposite you, placing the brown paper bag on the table in front of him. He glanced at your sketch of him, his stomach filling up with butterflies. "I see you missed me."

"Hi, Jasper," You sighed, before you quickly glanced at your drawing, shutting your sketchbook, "What's for lunch today?" You asked as Jasper opened the bag to reveal two sandwiches. 

Jasper sat the brown bag on the ground. "Sandwiches, for both of us." He replied and you nodded, sitting up in your chair, "I hope that's alright?" Jasper asked carefully, watching you curiously as he ate his sandwich.

You shrugged, "It doesn't matter to me." You said before taking a bite out of your sandwich. "It's delicious, though." You added, closing your eyes and humming contently as you chewed. Jasper watched you for a moment before continuing to eat his own meal. For the past couple of weeks, after you met Jasper, he'd come by to bring you and Cruella lunch. And most times he'd come by with tea or coffee. But, after a few weeks of that, Jasper would end up staying with you during lunch, eating his lunch with you. It was starting to become a routine. A wonderful routine you hoped would never end.

As you ate with Jasper in sweet silence, you thought back to when you first met him... 

~~~

As you walked down the stairs, Cruella had said John would take you home for the night, where you then could pack your belongings, and John would help with the rest. Waiting for John to return with your coat, you clasped your hands together as you rocked back and forth on the heels of your shoes. Looking around the very spacious room, when your attention landed on the scurrying Chihuahua, Wink. Waddling up to you, you bent down, and gently scooped up the dog, holding the small pup in your arms. As you softly pet the dog, you heard footsteps and glanced up, seeing a tall man awkwardly standing in the entryway.

You tilted your head slightly, finding the man in front of you rather handsome. Him, being tall, lean, with slight stubble. But most importantly... His piercing brown eyes... They were almost hypnotizing.

“Hi…” He spoke up for the first time, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“Hello…” You greeted softly, continuing to pet Wink. You had seen him around the manor for the past three days, but never had the time to say hello.

“So, I just wanted to introduce myself properly…" He spoke, stepping forward a bit. “My name is Jasper, it’s nice to meet you.” He spoke with a smile and you giggled.

“Well, my name is Y/N, it’s nice to meet you too.” You spoke, passing Wink to one side and reaching your hand out and the man took it with a soft shake.

Cruella then walked in with John, who was holding your coat, and greeted the two in the entryway. John handed you your coat after you gently placed Wink down. 

"All ready to go ma’am?” John asked and you nodded.

Turning back to Jasper, you smiled. “It was nice talking to you, Jasper.”

With a shy smile, Jasper nodded and walked backward, continuing the eye contact. “Uh yeah. It was nice talking to you too-.” He spoke, bumping into the wall behind him. Biting your bottom lip, you tried to hide your smile, as Jasper pointed behind him to the door, Jasper sputtered his words nervously. “Um, yeah. I’m just… I’m just gonna go.” He spoke before scurrying out the door into another room, Wink following close behind.

Gazing at the doorway where he had left, you quickly realized that John and Cruella were still there and were waiting for you. Turning around, you blushed heavily, brushing your hair away from your face, glancing from Cruella and to the ground. “Um, sorry. Shall we?”

Cruella smirked and nodded as John grabbed his hat.

The both of you then put on your coats and headed out the door. Hopping into the car, you looked down at your hands, nervously tangled together, again. Her mind was racing with embarrassment, and worry. Cruella watched you with a knowing gleam in her eyes, smirking.

~~~

Jasper watched you, curious about what you were thinking about. Your eyes were on your sketch, a small smile on your face. Jasper sighed, leaning his hand on his chin, gazing at you. "What are you thinking about?"

You looked up, blinking momentarily, realizing he was speaking to you. "Oh, um, nothing really." You responded softly, "Just when I met you." You smirked lightly as Jasper's eyes widened and he cleared his throat, turning his gaze away from you.

"Really?" He asked, trying to sound surprised. The way that you looked at him, made his stomach twist with excitement and nervousness.

You nodded, smiling brightly, "Yeah, I guess I just can't believe it's real, you know?" You asked, looking up at him. Your eyes were bright and happy, as you gazed at him.

Jasper felt his cheeks flush as he spoke, "Real, love?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah." You answered softly, "And not just in my dreams... But right here and now..." You sighed, fiddling with the plastic wrapper of your now-eaten sandwich, "I am just so happy that I met you, Jas." You muttered as Jasper's blush deepened as he stared at you. Feeling himself get lost in your eyes once more, he chuckled and scratched the back of his neck.

"Y/N/N," He started, "I'm glad I met you too." A small smile crossed his lips, as he held the back of his neck, watching you. "I'm really glad." He whispered and you smiled, nodding your head. He chuckled softly. "Do you have any plans for tomorrow?" He asked, shifting slightly.

You hummed, tapping your fingers against your thigh. "No, why?"

He grinned and shifted again. "Well... I was hoping that maybe you and I could go to dinner. You know, when I watched you walk in the room for the first time, my heart went boom." Jasper admitted, glancing towards the window, avoiding meeting your gaze.

"Dinner?" You repeated, raising an eyebrow at Jasper. Jasper looked down, feeling slightly awkward, and slightly scared. "Like... Like a date?" You teased, nudging Jasper's hand playfully with yours.

"If you want it to." He murmured and you laughed softly, nodding your head.

"I would love to."

#cruella 2021 #cruella #disney #jasper badun #jasper badun x reader #jasper badun x gn reader #jasper badun x you #jasper badun x y/n #fluff #cute #slight angst #x reader #x gn reader #x you #x y/n #requests are open #requests open #requested #requests #request #reqs open #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[butler-on-beale-street]

You're Still the One | Elvis Presley X Reader

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI. Unprotected sex, graphic description of sex.

Word Count: 2.7K

A/N: I really enjoyed finishing this request for something more romantic and sexy, something that wasn't dominant or kinky. I think I've accomplished just that. Hope you guys enjoy!

Summary: Right person, wrong time....what about the second go around? You and Elvis finally have the chance to make up for lost time...after all, actions speak louder than words.

“I’ve waited so many years for you,” You murmured, stepping in front of Elvis, bringing your hands up to the lapels of his coat, pulling it off of his shoulders. His living room was dark as you entered, save for a few dim lamps that sprayed amber light upon the walls.  “I’ve never really moved on. Of course, I’ve dated, fallen in love, Married, even; but my mind always goes back to you, Elvis. It always has, no matter what I do, it’s always you. It’s embarrassing,” you said, averting eye contact and clearing your throat.

He tilted your chin up with his fingertips, urging you to look at him. “It’s not embarrassing. Not in the slightest, honey.” His voice was set in a low murmur, almost a whisper. He brought his head down to kiss you softly on the lips. “All these years have gone by, but you’re still the same sweet girl I fell in love with..” He caressed your cheek, his fingers sliding into your hair at the nape of your neck. Your heart could have exploded out of your chest from hearing the words he spoke. 

“Do you still feel the same way?” You asked, just inches from his lips. Your eyes traced the full outline of his mouth before flicking your eyes back up to his. You couldn’t help but feel wracked with anxiety, unsure of his answer. 

His fingertips caressed the softness of your cheeks and remained silent. “I never got over you. You look the same. Older, yes. Mature–poised.” Heat rushed up your neck to your face. He took in a deep breath before releasing it softly. “The Colonel stole me away. The Army threw me into Germany for two years…and by the time I was out, you were married. I lost you.”

There was a long moment of silence before you spoke again. “I’m here now.” 

His fingers returned to your face, His eyes tracing every feature. “I thought we’d never have a time to be together.” He murmured. In the low light of the evening, his blue eyes sparkled like that of the finest crystal. “But here you are, standing in front of me.” 

“With nothing to stop us,” You added softly. His lips crept closer and closer to yours, twitching softly within his hesitant approach. You could feel his hot breath wisping upon your skin. You breathed raggedly.

“Not anymore,” He finished your sentence, parting your lips with his. Your body molded with his in the culmination of so many years passed. You had dreamt of this moment–the nerves, the worry, the touch of his lips…but nothing compared to his touch in that moment. And like that, you both clung to each other desperately, as if time and circumstance would snatch you away from him once again. “Y/n,” he moaned into your open mouth. 

“Yes, please.” You answered, knowing his intention by the utterance of your name. He pulled you upstairs straight to his bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it was dark inside and he didn’t bother to turn the lights on. His lips still found their way to yours as he walked you both backwards to the bed. The light from the moon loomed through the sheer curtains, splashing soft blue light on the cotton sheets. The window was left open to fight the summer heat, sending the organic tune of rustling trees and chirping crickets into the room. Within the coolness of the evening, the drapes fluttered in the breeze. You reached for the hem of Elvis’s button-down, using your fingertips to unfasten the buttons. It took you an extra moment in the dark and you couldn’t help but chuckle out of nervousness.

 “Could have picked an easier shirt, couldn’t I?” The sound of his warm laugh filled the room like luminous loops of glitter, spinning through the air in golden ribbons. You revealed more and more of his bare skin with each button, your eyes traveling from his belly to his chest and up to his face. He bit down on his bottom lip, his hands traveling to yours to touch you anyway he could.

“C’mere, Baby.” He beckoned, squeezing your arms softly under his grasp. You took the final step forward, closing all space between you and him, pressing your body against his. You pulled the shirt from his shoulders, letting it flutter to the floor. You smoothed your hands over his chest, feeling the soft crop of hair that grew there. You enjoyed the warmth of his skin under your touch. His hands traveled to cup your cheeks as he leaned down to kiss you softly. The kiss was so tender, his lips the softness of velvet upon your own. You closed your eyes to focus on his barely-there touch. You were getting ahead of yourself, feeling the need to beg him for more. Luckily, he read your body language and leaned further, kissing you again, this time with even more desire and yearning, his fingertips squeezing possessively at your hips and ass. 

Both of your breathing was erratic. Hands wandered experimentally around each other’s bodies, experiencing it for the first time. “Take me to bed,” You whispered softly against his kiss. “Please.” 

You gazed into his eyes, which made you feel safe, secure and wanted. He responded by kissing you once more and crouching to pick you up. He laid you down softly, smiling gently as his gaze moved about your body. “You’re absolutely beautiful, Y/n.” His fingers moved to your sweater, pulling it up over your head as you raised your arms. He fixed your hair with the tips of his fingers to lay in a halo about your head where you laid before lowering himself back down to place his lips upon your bare belly. You felt the warmth of his breath billow over your skin, an array of goosebumps overtaking your body. You heard him chuckle again. “Nervous?” He asked. 

You shook your head. “No.” You answered. And it was the truth. You weren’t worried or concerned about anything at the moment. You wanted Elvis all over you, however he pleased. Your body responded by firing off stimulus with any and every touch. He dragged the tip of his middle and ring finger along your belly, moving upward to smooth his hand towards your sternum. He placed soft kisses upon your chest, his hands reaching underneath you to unclasp your bra. You felt the relief of it falling loose and watched him toss it somewhere within the darkness. His hands moved to knead your breasts and he leaned to take one of your nipples into his mouth, looping his tongue around the erect bud. “Mmm,” you hummed softly, his touch setting your skin on fire. You knotted your fingers into his dark hair, pulling him upward to kiss you again. He smiled against your lips, kissing you with passion and interest. Taking your bottom lip between his teeth, he broke the kiss, dragging his body lower and lower to hook his fingers into the belt loops of your pants, effortlessly tugging them down your hips. He kissed his way up your legs, over your clothed pussy and over upon your belly, just where the waistband of your panties lie. 

“Elvis, please,” You whined, letting your legs fidget with impatience. He moved to lay on top of your legs to keep you from moving. 

“Shh,” he insisted, looking up at you with determination. “We’ve been waiting a long time, hm?” You nodded. He could see the eagerness within your gaze and it was obvious that it turned him on even further. “Let’s make it everything we could have imagined, if not better.” He kissed you one more time on your belly before finally peeling your panties off of you, tossing them into the darkness. He returned to you with a cocky grin, dragging you closer to the edge of the bed. He got up to crouch below you, pulling your legs apart. You couldn’t help but tilt your head up uncomfortably to watch him. He ran his hand up your belly. “Lean back and relax, baby. Close your eyes.” You could feel the strength of his hands as his fingers pressed into your thighs to hold you in place, and that’s when you felt him. You felt the warmth of his breath first. He kissed your skin softly, still finding pleasure in teasing you to the last moment.

“Please,” you begged, your voice coming out in a pitiful whimper. 

He ran the flat of his tongue through your folds, tasting you for the first time. He moaned softly as he explored you, his hands moving from your legs up your sides, pulling your body down against his face. His tongue worked expertly, folding and spinning in soft circles around your clit. Your hands found their way to your breasts, kneading and pulling on your own nipples. “That feels so good, baby,” You mewled, flexing your core muscles against him. His fingertips grasped you tighter with encouragement. He teased the tip of his tongue at your entrance, lapping softly at it before returning the pattern upwards again. Your hips rocked out of need for more contact; he increased the pace of his tongue, pushing himself further against you. His stubble began to chafe against the insides of your thighs, but you welcomed it. You wanted proof of his touch. He left you just as you began to approach the apex of an orgasm. He removed his pants and underwear quickly, stepping out of them and taking his hard cock in his hand. He stroked it a few times before approaching you. He bent over you lovingly, leaning to kiss you deeply. You could taste yourself on his lips; it was a strong elixir that made your head swim. He began to kiss purple-pink splotches down your neck, intent on leaving marks. “Ready?” He whispered, his eyes trained on yours. You tilted your head up slightly, nodding. 

“Yes.” You watched him crane his head down to line himself up with your entrance. He sank down into you slowly, exhaling as he dipped closer and closer to your body. He gasped softly, letting it subside into a deep exhalation as he filled you completely. 

“My God, Honey.” He mumbled, his tone turned breathy and ragged. You squeezed around him as he began to stroke into you. Deep groans left his throat, filling the room. You loved that he wasn’t afraid to be vocal during sex. He was confident and determined. He reached his hand down to rub circles upon your clit with his thumb. 

“Please, just like that,” You said, throwing your hips upward. He threw his hands to your waist, throwing you back against his thighs as he snapped into you over and over. Choked groans gurgled deep within your throat as your eyes began to roll. “Oh my!” You cried out as he changed angles to stand at the end of the bed, taking advantage of the added leverage. He crouched slightly with each thrust, working to fuck upwards into you. You opened your eyes to watch him as he held your open legs against his body. His face, neck and chest was covered in thick perspiration, his messy hair pasted to his forehead. His chest heaved with exertion, the sweat glittering in the moonlight. He pulled himself almost all of the way out of you before leaning back in, filling you once more. You felt your body beginning to stick to the sheets. You grasped handfuls of them as he made love to you, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure. 

“Baby,” he almost sang, his baritone timbre looping through the dark like sweet brandy. His southern drawl was especially sexy to you now, hearing the honesty within his voice; the need, the want, the desire. It consumed you like a house fire, burning through your body, taking with it anything and everything in its wake. What he didn’t know was that you’d sacrifice anything and everything for Elvis. Tonight was the culmination of so many lonely nights without him. Finally he was yours, making up for so much time. “Honey, I’m going to roll you over.” He managed to say, slipping out of you. “Get on top.” He crawled onto the bed, laying on his back, waiting for you to join him. You swung your leg over his body to straddle him, this time taking his cock in your hands to sink yourself down upon it. Gravity pulled you all the way down, sending a shock of goosebumps all over your body.

“Elvis, baby. Oh my God!” You cried, dragging yourself upon him, feeling him deep inside of your womb. In the moment, all inhibitions, all insecurities and hesitations left your body completely, morphed into pure carnal desire. You wanted to finish within him, and even then, you still wouldn’t feel like you had enough of him to yourself. You panted as you fucked him, reaching to place his hands on your breasts. He chuckled softly, tweaking your swollen and sensitive nipples, pulling them away from your body before watching them snap back, causing your breasts to jiggle in place. He pulled you down to take your nipple in his mouth, causing you to catch yourself against the mattress.

“Such a good girl, so good.” He said. His voice was low in pitch, causing every synapse within your brain to fire with sensation. You weren’t expecting it when he lifted your ass off of him. He adjusted his body for a quick moment before driving himself upward off of the bed back into you, his thighs clapping against the underside of yours, the pace sending you barreling forward. 

“Fuck!” You yelped. He held you tightly in place. “Elvis! Elvis! Oh my God, Oh my God!”

“Let go, honey.” He instructed. “It’s okay. I know. I’ll take care of you. Just let go.” He began to lengthen his stroke, sending himself deeper and deeper into you. You squeezed yourself as hard as you could around his cock, feeling your core giving way to the orgasm. It rammed through your body like an avalanche, erasing all thought in its path. You operated on pure biological need, desperately dragging your body against his cock, pressing yourself down as deeply as you could against him. You tossed your head back as your body was thrown into fits. “That’s it! That’s it, that’s–” He barked as he fucked into you, pulling your body flush against his as he buried himself into you for the final time with all the reserves he had left. “Fuck!” He spat, pulling his arms around your body to pull you against his chest. He kissed you as if it were the very first time and like it was the very last time. You tasted the saltiness on his lips, but you didn’t mind it. You deepened the kiss, slipping your tongue between his lips, to find his. He rolled you over so that he was on top of you, pressing you down into the bed. The moment subsided into something less desperate, but nonetheless affectionate. He chuckled as he pulled flyaway strands of hair from your face, tucking them behind your ears. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that,” he said, kissing you on the forehead, cheeks, neck and lips. 

“It was better,” you admitted. You brought your hands to his face, bringing him upward to look at you. You both lay in an extended moment of silence, staring into each other’s eyes as if you were both seeing a glimmer of one another’s soul. In that moment, you’d never felt more love for a man in your life, and you knew he felt it, too. His eyes traced your features as if he’d lose you if he didn’t memorize every detail, every perfect imperfection. 

“Your mine, Y/n. Whether you like it or not.” He spoke. You couldn’t help but mirror the sly grin that traipsed its way across his face. 

“I think I like it, Mr. Presley.” You leaned upward to kiss him. “I think I like it a lot.” 

You lay in the darkness, still connected to one another for longer than you cared to admit, enjoying the cool breeze dance over your naked bodies, evaporating the proof of the ordeal from your skin. You sat there for a long time drawing shapes into his chest, recounting on the times with and without him, and hypothesizing about the future and the possibilities that awaited you both as you finally found one another for the second time.

taglist: @mamaspresley @anestesia-mxm @misspygmypie @austin-butlers-gf @cozacorner @she-is-juniper @shimmeringlights44 @mariposa-mila @austinelvisimagines @sagesolsticewrites @guns-n-queen @anangelwhodidntfall @avengen @suitrry @eurusthewanderer @domaniquessidehoe @kittenlittle24 @softmullet @mirandastuckinthe80s @stargiirl27 @maddieks-blog @kyddosebastian @girlnairb @its-funny-til-its-not @im-just-star-dust @bobbykennedyfan @venus-haze @groovydeputyfestivalkid @hockeyfootballhoe @21bruhs @thebeatlesbitch @dangerdolll @captured-memory @kingelviscreole @adoreyouusugar @slutforblueeyes @theinvisiblecapricorn @ghxst-heart @yagirlalexx @sapph1re @madzandflowerz31 @kaycinema @theloveoftoms @annamarie16 @omgellenlouise @re3kin @feverdawg @cutie-ghost @shynovelist @fxntxsix @rheathesimp @madzandflowerz31 @writeroutoftime @bamitzzsam @meladollsims @mslizziesblog @headfullofpresley@shandis-world @in-my-body-bag @ash-omalley @stitchattacks @foreverdolly @fullmetal-falcon @lolllasblog@omgellenlouise@wolffes-cyarika @kaitaesupremacy @lindszeppelin @ggwritesstuff

#Elvis Presley #Elvis #Elvis x reader #Elvis Presley smut #elvis presley #austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #elvis #elvis movie #elvis 2022 #austin butler elvis #elvis smut #Elvis Presley x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis fanfic #elvis one shot #elvis fanfiction #Austin Butler #austin butler fanfic #austin butler one shot

[freesia-writes]

Howzer + Aurelia Ch. 16

Howzer stole our hearts when he appeared in TBB, and I wanted to write a bit of a backstory for him. It begins with his newbie days during TCW and stretches to where we last see him in TBB. Enjoy his character arc and some heartwarming romance, action, adventure, yearning, angst, and growth.

Master List of Chapters

Content/Trigger Warnings for Entire Work (individual chapters not labeled): wartime peril, injury, and death; pregnancy, birthing trauma, and infant loss; sexual assault up to kissing; relationship passion up to making out and heavy petting; sexual relationship alluded to but not described (no smut, sorry) ;)

Word Count: 1.4k

16. Suspicions

The "investigation", if it could even be called that, was a tedious affair of hearing the same story eighteen times and having to pay attention closely enough to see any discrepancies. Aurelia tried to make a game of it by speaking with an increasingly thick accent throughout the course of each interview, but the cargo bay guards were either completely oblivious or couldn't have cared less.

"Might as well have interviewed droids," Aurelia muttered, heading back to her office. She perked up, however, as she remembered the rest of her job -- following up with Syndulla's men. She could have sworn she heard him say Howzer, addressing the clone Captain he had come with, but with the helmet it was impossible to tell. He had said he was being sent to Ryloth, however, and she didn't think the clones' nicknames overlapped too terribly often... She was surprised to feel a bit of anxiety beginning to churn in her stomach. Why? It had been over two years since she had fallen for that plucky young clone only to be embarrassed and rejected. If anything, she should feel angry, or perhaps even proud... of what? Her fancy Imperial job? She chuckled dryly, muttering to herself as she trundled down the hallway toward her door.

A sudden movement in front of her interrupted her grumbling monologue and she tripped over her own feet in her startled reaction, thumping against the wall to her side and flinging her hands up in some kind of pathetic reflex that made her look more like a blurrg than any sort of competent opponent. The sound that escaped her throat was equally as embarrassing, some kind of gurgled gahhkk! that just really accentuated the whole performance.

She could have sworn she heard a quiet chuckle as the clone backed up a few steps, hands up in surrender. He had been leaning on the wall on the far side of her door and had stood straight to greet her as she drew near. But, lost in her rambling as she had been, she had been entirely oblivious of his presence, until now, as she glared up at him from her crumpled lean against the wall.

"Kriffing Hutt-spawn," she breathed, pushing herself upright and righting her crooked glasses. Her shoulder bag had slipped down to her elbow, and she shuffled it back to its place as the clone stood patiently before her. "I didn't see you there."

"I... apologize," the clone said, the same voice she'd heard so many times before, all alike in their slightly robotic tone through their helmets. "I was told you wanted to see me."

She looked him up and down, noting the teal accents on the armor -- a color she hadn't seen before -- as well as the pauldron on one shoulder. He had a quiet dignity about him, an unrushed sense of confidence... or was it cynical resignation? Hard to tell through the white shell that encapsulated him.

"Howzer?" she whispered, feeling her heart racing in her chest. She tore off her glasses, and recognition blossomed across his face.

"Aurelia?" he answered, voice quivering with emotion. He pulled off his helmet, revealing the mess of hair that had always been so comically endearing, and she was reaching for his smooth cheeks before she realized what was happening.

"I can't believe it's you!" she said, drawing close.

"I'm so sorry, for all of it. I've loved you since they day I left you. I never stopped thinking about you," he said, voice husky with emotion as he dropped his helmet to the ground.

"Prove it," she gasped, as he moved in for a kiss and she turned her face up, eyes fluttering closed.

"Ma'am?" The clone's voice shook her out of a daydream that she hadn't even realized she had entered. He was still waiting outside her door as she stood there with her hand on the wall, eyes on him but hand mindlessly roving around for the keypad for the door. She cursed herself inwardly, wondering what the kriff that was, and pushed it out of her mind to address the situation at hand.

"Sorry," she said, finding the button and smashing it to bring the door open with a whoosh. "Please, come in." She entered her office, dumping her bag in the middle of her desk and taking a seat behind it, trying to maintain the slightest shred of dignity. Howzer stood in front of her desk, hands folded behind his back.

"I just needed to ask you what you knew about the shipments to the refinery, and any issues that you've been having with pirates or anything else. We've had another cargo delivery that was stolen, and we're trying to get to the bottom of it. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" Aurelia continued, feeling torn between wanting to stare at him and also not wanting to look at him at all. She was wildly distracted by the flurry of contradicting thoughts and feelings that she had no time to process.

"Go ahead," the clone said.

She went through her list, hearing about half of what he said, making notes on her datapad for later review since she was engaged in a mental wrestling match with two seemingly oppositional inclinations. If it were Howzer, the same one from Coruscant, why would that be a good thing? He represented a huge source of pain and shame for her, and it had taken a while for her to get over it but she had indeed moved on, chalking it up to youthful naivete. But then what was all this excitement she felt, accompanied with warm and fuzzy memories of sitting against the fallen tree by the pond? It didn't make any sense. She tried to stifle it all, but was unsuccessful, so as she neared the end of her questions, she decided to give in to her curiosity.

"Would you be more comfortable with your helmet off?" she asked nonchalantly. "I'm sorry, I should have invited you to remove it from the beginning. You don't have to keep it on around me."

"I'm alright, ma'am. Thank you."

That was unexpected, but she had already come this far. "Would you take it off? It helps... the investigation... to be able to see your face..." she fumbled, trying not to cringe outwardly.

"As you wish," Howzer answered, leaning his head forward to pull off his helmet. He stood straight, meeting her gaze as he tucked the helmet neatly under his arm. "Any other questions?"

"Ahh, uhh... Erm, yes," Aurelia said, reading off the last bullet point on her list before looking back up at him intently. Her heart sank with a disappointment that she hadn't anticipated as she took in this clone's face. Yes, they were all the same, but they really weren't. She had come to appreciate the unique spark of each one that had frequented 79s. She knew it had been a few years, and the clones aged more rapidly, but this one could not have been more different than the "shiny" she remembered.

He didn't have messy hair, but rather had a distinct undercut -- longer hair tousled back on the top and short and faded down the sides of his head. His face was weathered and significantly marked by a large scar on his cheek that was complimented by another small one on his chin. He had none of the bravado or enthusiasm that she had remembered, but rather was steady and dignified. And, most notably, not at all interested in her. Definitely not the same Howzer. She sighed, tuning in to the end of his answer and making a few notes on her datapad.

She finalized the report, switched off her screen, and took off her glasses, setting them to the side on her desk. Standing up from her chair, she gave a polite bow of the head, opening an inviting arm toward the door.

"Thank you for the information, Captain. We appreciate your cooperation."

He stared at her for a moment, then nodded and headed for the door. It whooshed open in front of him, and he paused, turning back to face her.

"Not sure which was worse, that interview or puking all over your floor at 79s... Ah well," he said flatly before putting his helmet on and continuing out the door. It slid shut behind him, leaving her staring at where he had just been, mouth open in dumbfounded realization.

just look at that sexxy boi

Feel free to tag a friend who loves Howzer, or comment to be added to the tag list! <3

@mary-on-the-contrary @doublesunsets @523rdrebel

#the bad batch #tbb #commander howzer #clone trooper howzer #tbb howzer #captain howzer #the bad batch howzer #howzer #howzer x oc

[sugoi-and-spice]

Chapter Thirteen - Overwrite

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x Fem!Reader, (3rd Person)

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad's boss's son. He was the creep that stole girls' underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it's not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn't sleep with him, right? ...right?

CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Virginity Kink, Groping, Power Play, Hate to Love, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Animal Death

Read Full Chapter on AO3

[excerpt]

Meet day. Her last first one. 

The host school’s locker room was empty, almost eerily so. She wondered as she pulled the straps of her suit over her shoulders, how she had gotten here so much earlier than any of the other swimmers. But she didn’t dwell. Honestly, this was probably a good thing. She could really use this time to clear her head. Even if she didn’t want to. 

When had this all gotten so hard? Meet days, even with all their stress and chaos, used to be one of the few times she could really let go. It didn’t matter what drama was going on in the swim club or whatever feelings she was wrestling with about her friends or family — at a meet all she had to worry about was what time her heat started, swimming her hardest, and cheering on her friends.

But this time, there seemed to be just a little too much baggage for her to really leave behind. She dropped her forehead against the locker with a groan, overwhelmed. 

Mirio, Shigaraki, her feelings, her future — the anxieties about them all had latched onto her mind and refused to let go. They were screaming at her that she needed to make a decision, even though she’d already made one. And she’d made the right one, so why did it feel so wrong?

Maybe there had never been a right decision to begin with.

“You’re nervous.”

Her breath hitched at the familiar rasp. A pair of long, sinewy hands ran down her arms almost from nowhere — familiar calluses hooking up every goosebump in their path. They stopped only when they could spread over her own hands, lacing with her fingers and pressing her palms firm into the locker.

“That’s not like you,” their owner purred hot into her ear.

“Shigaraki—” she gasped, then quickly cleared the breathiness from her throat, “W-What are you doing here?”

He buried his nose into the plush of her hair — she hadn’t managed to tie it up yet, “You didn’t think I’d miss this, did you?”

A spiteful laugh slipped from her chest, “Why would I have expected you to come? I already told you that we’re not dating.” 

“And I already told you,” he kissed shivers down the nape of her neck, “That doesn’t matter. You’re mine.”

Her nails curled tight against the locker, the reminder of his words stabbing her fresh all over again.

“Just stop,” she turned back to glare over her shoulder, “It’s not like you actually care about me.”

He scowled against her skin, “You know that’s not true.”

The stab was going straight for her eyes now, burning.

“Do I?” she choked.

She yelped as he suddenly flipped her around, pinning her back to the locker hard enough that it should’ve hurt her head, but somehow didn’t. He didn’t give her the chance to dwell on that strange fact — or the fact that this locker room was still somehow completely empty and she was weirdly unworried about that changing. He leaned in fast and close until his nose was just a breath away, the carmine of his eyes burning into her soul.

“Yes,” he growled, “You do.”

She wasn’t sure who moved into the kiss first — she’d tell herself that it was him, obviously. But it’s not like it mattered much. Her mouth was working just as frantically as his — a starving tangle of lips and moans and tongues. 

Shigaraki pressed her hands harder as they jolted in his grip — dragging them up against the cold steel of the lockers until they were stretched high above her head. In one move he crossed them at the wrist and locked them in the wide palm of his right hand, his left dragging down the length of her body, followed closely by lips sucking roughly down her jaw.

He suddenly yanked the suit seam curving under her arm, in towards her sternum to release one of her breasts, then hooked his thumb over the other side to give the same treatment. 

“H-Hey!” she flushed down at the spandex bunched taut between her cleavage, “You’re gonna stretch it!”

He grinned, bunching the fabric in his fist and wrenching it — and in effect her breasts — up roughly. 

“You’re lucky I’m not destroying it.”

With one last slam back into the locker, he released his grip on her hands so that he could grope at her tits. Her arms dropped across his bare shoulders — wait, had his shirt been off the whole time? Oh fuck, it didn’t matter, his mouth was latching to her nipple, sucking it in a way that had never felt this good before.

His knee crashed between her legs with a force that shook the lockers behind her, that definitely should’ve hurt him. But apparently he wasn’t feeling any pain either — only the aching burn blazing through their cores.

“Sh-Shigaraki—” she mewled as he ground his knee into her heat.

“This wet already?” he leered up from her breasts, giving his quad another deep churn between her legs, “Someone missed me.”

Her head fell back, fighting words forever lost in the gasps and fog in her mind. Shigaraki groaned at the sight, at the shameless way she arched into him.

In an impatient flurry, he was pulling himself out of his joggers and shoving the soaked crotch of her suit to the side.

“Fuck, I can’t wait,” he growled, shoving her leg up and against the lockers by the back of her knee to give him the angle he needed. 

No excuses were given for the lack of foreplay and honestly, none were wanted. Because she couldn’t wait either. It had been over a week since her mind had cleared and she needed the blank slate.

He gripped her thigh and hip tight as he sunk completely into her with one sharp thrust. She fought back a cry at the sudden fullness — a fight she quickly lost when he pulled back just as fast. The pace he set was stout and merciless, almost as if he thought that any time they weren’t knocking hips, it’d end. 

Fingers curled tight at his scalp to try and anchor herself, the rough tempo doing little for her balance. Each thrust had the balls of her feet hiking off the floor, keeping her from maintaining a solid footing. The need to readjust interrupted the rhythm more times than Shigaraki was happy with. 

So, with a frustrated growl, he grabbed her by the ass and hoisted her up against the lockers. She squeaked, genuinely startled by the unexpected show of strength, her legs locking around his waist to keep herself from falling.

“ F-Fuck— ” he groaned as her hips fell flush against his, pulling him in deeper and tighter than he’d ever been.

He looked up at her through hooded eyes and they froze. They were close, really close. Not just in the fact that he was buried to the hilt inside her or that their foreheads were almost touching. They’d never stared into each other’s eyes this deeply, never coiled around each other so completely. 

It sparked a feeling in her chest that she couldn’t identify if she wanted to — and she really didn’t want to. She felt exposed yet secure. Raw yet complete. Lost yet found. It was a feeling that scared the absolute shit out of her, and yet she couldn’t look away. She was mesmerized, and it was obvious that he felt the same.

He rolled his hips experimentally, stroking savoringly at the exact spot that had her legs going gooey. She sighed, letting her head lean completely into his as her hips ground right back into him.

There were no words, no grunts or groans, jabs or slaps — absolutely nothing shared with the pornographic, emotionless sex she was used to. Just breathy whines and heaving sighs. Skin rocking against skin and maintained eye contact.

Shigaraki pulled her into a kiss — deep and slow. Her arms curled tight around the back of his neck, drawing him in closer and closer. And she could feel herself getting closer and closer. Not just to an orgasm either. To something she’d been looking for her entire life. Closer to trusting. Closer to affection.

Closer to falling in lov—

She woke up with a shriek — heart racing and chest heaving. 

For several minutes, she could do nothing but stare at the ceiling, try to slow her laboring diaphragm, and attempt to process just what in the name of Morpheus had gone through her brain right now. 

What was that? No, really. What the actual fuck was that?

Continue on AO3

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#TOMURA SHIRAGAKI #TOMURA SHIGARAKI X READER #tomura shigaraki x oc #SHIGARAKI #TOMURA SHIGARAKI #BNHA SHIGARAKI #MHA SHIGARKI #SHIGARAKI FANFIC #READER INSERT #LONG FIC #SMUT #SHIGARAKI SMUT #TW DUBCON #QUIRKLESS AU #SPICE WRITES #mha #bnha #mha smut #bnha smut #play nice fic

[gleegirlimagines]

At Last

Part 2 to "Outed"

Quinn stood shocked on the doorstep.

"She what?"

Y/N's mom looked at her sympathetically. "Yeah. She said that she needs to be anywhere but here. She's going to have an answer by the end of the day today."

Quinn's heart dropped to her stomach. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She needed Y/N to stay. She was not going to get through the year without the girl who held her heart. She began to hyperventilate. Y/N's mom went to put a hand on the blonde's shoulder but she quickly turned and sprinted back to her car, getting in and speeding home.

An hour passed after Quinn got home and she had yet to leave her room. She sat on her bed staring at her phone, waiting for anything. Her phone pinged but it was once again Finn asking for an update. She texted him back telling him that she has heard nothing. She got up from her bed and into her closet to put a hoodie of Y/N's on. She stole it back a few months beforehand when they had gone to the movies.

Y/N and Quinn stood in front of each other on opposite sides of Y/N's bed. "Quinn, give it up. You aren't going to win this." Quinn smirked, holding onto the hoodie. "I'll give it up when you admit that you're actually straight. But we both know that's not gonna happen." Y/N sighed and went to lunge for the blonde, who slipped out of the taller girl's grasp easily and went to hide downstairs. Y/N laughed and went to find the blonde "hiding" in the kitchen before scooping her up in her arms and running to the couch.

Quinn squealed and giggled the whole way to the living room before getting smushed by her taller friend. "Okay! I give! You can have your hoodie." Y/N smirked before kissing the girl's cheek. "Nah. You can add it to your collection that I know you have in the back corner of your closet."

Quinn gasped. "How did you know about that?" Y/N smiled at the girl. "I have my ways. And also, the hoodie looks better on you than it ever has on me." Quinn blushed. "Stop flattering me." Y/N shook her head. "Never."

Quinn took a deep breath looking at her phone with the text that she was dreading.

Mrs. Y/L/N: She's decided to stay in California. I'm sorry Quinn. She told me to tell you that this is going to help her and that this isn't goodbye.

Quinn cried herself to sleep that night.

*Time jump to 3X08*

Quinn had been through a lot in the past couple of years. Having Beth, quitting Cheerios, two more failed relationships, her skank phase, it had been a lot. Her mom had taken her back in after her kicking her dad out. Her life was back on the right track, it was just missing one piece though.

Y/N.

She had heard from Y/N through Y/N's mom about how life in California was treating her. Y/N had been going to therapy and was getting exponentially better at handling her depression and anxiety and Quinn couldn't be prouder. It would be a lot better if she had been hearing it from the girl herself, but she was taking what she could get.

She was currently sitting in the bleachers by the football field because she couldn't stomach seeing Sam again. She was between watching the Cheerios practice and reading some passage for her college English class when a voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"So, wanna explain why I had to ask five different people where you were or are you gonna come hug your best friend?"

Quinn froze. She didn't wanna look up just in case it wasn't real. "No. You're not here. You're still in California. There's no way."

"Well, if you decide to look up anytime soon Lucy Q, you'll see I am in fact very real."

Quinn finally looked up and standing at the bottom of the bleachers, draped in a leather jacket and sunglasses, was the one person she had been aching to see for the past two years.

Y/N was tanner, taller, more muscular, and tattooed from what Quinn could see on her hands. And there she was, standing with that stupid smirk on her face.

Schoolwork be damned, Quinn shot up and sprinted down the stairs to jump into Y/N's arms. Y/N caught her easily and laughed. "Hi Lucy Q. I've missed you tremendously." Quinn buried her face in Y/N's neck, tears welling up in her eyes. She couldn't believe that she was actually holding Y/N in her arms again.

She began to cry as Y/N calmed her down. "Shhhh, I'm here now Quinn. I'm not leaving again." Quinn looked at her with tears streaming down her face. "How? What?" Y/N chuckled. "Let's just say that someone saw how you were dealing and decided to make things right." She pointed off to the side.

Quinn looked and saw a familiar mohawked boy standing off the the side. He smiled at her and nodded at Y/N before walking off. Y/N rubbed Quinn's back as she held on tighter. "Okay, we do need to talk though Q. So let's talk."

Quinn nodded and allowed Y/N to carry her back to her spot. She refused to leave Y/N's embrace and the girl got comfortable with the blonde on her lap. Quinn started. "Why did you leave?"

Y/N sighed. "Because I couldn't bear the thought of losing you and leaving was easier. California was a go-to because Bryan is there and he took me in without question. He knew what I was going through and became my safe space. He's the one who told me to go to therapy and he is the one who convinced me to come back."

Quinn nodded. "I get all of that but I wasn't going to leave you." Y/N shrugged. "I didn't want to risk it." Quinn settled back into Y/N's neck. She grabbed Y/N's hand and began to trace the tattoo of the rose there. Y/N watched the girl's movements. "And plus, I couldn't leave my favorite girl here to graduate by herself. So I had to come back"

Quinn blushed and burrowed further into Y/N's neck. "Have your feelings for me changed Y/N?" Y/N sighed. Quinn braced herself for the worst.

"No. Granted, I did try to date but no one was you. My feelings for you are still as strong as they were when I left two years ago." Quinn's heart began to race. "Puck filled me in on what was happening with you the past two years. He showed me a picture of Beth. She's beautiful, just like her mama." Quinn smiled at the thought of the tiny blonde. "He also told me about you and Finn and you and that Sam kid. Now, that was a hot damn mess."

Quinn giggled. "I also tried dating. But the same thing happened to me. They weren't you." Y/N froze. "W-what?"

Quinn cupped Y/N's face, taking the sunglasses off of her face, looking into her Y/E/C eyes.

"Y/N, I love you. I'm in love with you. I fell in love with you ever since that day in middle school when you punched Azimio and Karofsky for calling me fat. I knew then that there wasn't anyone else I wanted to be with. I was scared of admitting my sexuality but I can now say that I am extremely confident with how I feel about you and I am more than willing to show everyone in McKinley who I want to be with and who I belong to."

Y/N looked at the blonde shocked. "You love me?" Quinn giggled. "Of course, idiot."

The blonde leaned forward and pressed her lips to Y/N's, fireworks exploding behind her eyelids. For Y/N, everything was falling back into place. The pair kissed until air was needed. Quinn pulled away first, watching Y/N chase her lips. The blonde giggled and pecked her lips and then her nose.

A throat cleared as the two looked down to Finn with a dopey smile on his face. "Well, well, well, look what the Puck dragged in." Y/N smiled and set Quinn in the seat next to her as she ran down to embrace the taller boy. "Finn Hudson, dopey as ever. I missed you, man!" Finn smiled as he hugged the girl back.

He looked up at the blonde watching on fondly. "You guys good? Ready to go back to the choir room?" Y/N looked up at Quinn and smiled.

"Yeah, we are."

The trio walked off as Y/N pulled Quinn into her side. “So, what’s this I heard about Santana kicking your ass?” Quinn scoffed.

“Shut up.”

#quinn fabray x reader #quinn fabray #glee imagine

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Nickleheads, Knights, and Harry's Half-Vampire Ex-Girlfriend

We were introduced to Michael Carptenter as a Knight of the Cross back in Grave Peril, but this is where we really get a good sense of the Knights as an organization within the Catholic Church, and it's where we learn about who they're there to...save, strictly speaking, if possible, but let's be real. They kill Denarians to try to keep cursed silver bits off the streets. This is going to be relevant literally for the rest of the series as far as anyone knows. Oh and also, somebody stole the Shroud of Turin and Harry's half-vampire ex-girlfriend is in town. Let's talk Death Masks.

Spoilers abound below the break, so head's up if you're on your first Dresden read through and don't want MASSIVE THINGS SPOILED.

Also, Content Warning for sex, blood, and violence. Take care of you first and we will catch you on the flip side if you choose to skip over this one!

You cannot say that the worldbuilding in the Dresden Files is anything but thorough, and apparently that also includes shitty daytime TV personalities, because Harry opens this book by basically having a low-key anxiety attack while trying not to take out every single piece of technology in a television studio during a "debate" between himself, Mort Lindquist, and Paolo Ortega. It's literally the opening to a bad joke: A medium, a vampire, and a wizard walk into a TV studio to discuss whether paranormal creatures and beings are real.

Unfortunately, our vamp also takes the time to challenge the Wizard to a duel, which the White Court is all too happy to accept as a way out of the war that Harry started. To complicate matters further, the Shroud of Turin has been stolen and the Knights of the Cross, Denarians, and Susan are in town, so Harry isn't having a terribly good week. And then he also has to stop Nicodemus from beginning a plague.

Honestly, so many things about this book ANNOY me. Listicles were, at one time, popular on the interwebz, so let's go old school here with the irksome stuff.

Kinky Vampire Sex As a Lifesaving Measure. All right. I get that vampires being sex coded isn't new; from early works like the Vampyre to iconic classics like Carmilla and Dracula to modern reimaginings like Interview with a Vampire and Twilight, vampires have been sex coded. I think what irritates me about this example is the framing. Like, we can't just have "my girlfriend is half vampire and we have kinky, mind-blowing vampire sex," no. We have to have "My control is slipping and I will literally murder you if you don't...*checks notes*...tie me up like a hog for slaughter and sex the evil vampiric tendencies out of me." Like...IT'S A FLESHY BUNDLE OF NERVES, NOT A MAGIC WAND. CAN WE PLEASE NOT FRAME THIS AS "HARRY DRESDEN'S MAGICAL ANTI-VAMPIRE PENIS"????? And just to clarify: I'm not out here to kink shame anyone. My objection is to the hypermasculinity and toxic masculinity of the framing of this sex scene. We can still have kinky vampire sex, but maybe let's have it be enthusiastic and fun rather than "If we don't bang right now, one or both of us is going to die." There is an element of coercion there than I don't love, especially not when the author then also frames it as "my dick literally saved my girlfriend's life." If you want kinky monster sex, the just have kinky monster sex. Don't make it weird.

Heroic Sacrifice Is Fine Because I Had Terminal Cancer Anyway. Hello Ableism, My Old Friend. The trope that a chronically ill, terminally ill, or disabled character dies to save an able-bodied character is inherently ableist, full stop. It straight out SAYS that the able-bodied life we have saved is more valuable than the disabled life we lost. And not only does Butcher have Shiro pull this, we get a back-dated letter at the end from Shiro to Harry going, "Hey, I knew I was dying and I hope that makes you feel better about me being horribly tortured to death on your behalf. Dressing up what is essentially a "bury your disabled" trope in a heroic sacrifice does not make it less ableist and shitty. (For those of you who want more on disability tropes and why they're ableist, I have written a literal book on it, and also please see this TV Tropes page.) I don't have a lot to actually SAY about this one, other than endlessly screaming into the void about the blatant ableism throughout this series and wondering why the HELL I was surprised when Butcher disabled and fridged Murphy. Please join me in screaming, there will be throat coat tea afterwards.

Medical Science Failed? Let's Try Religion. I get that Marcone is as guilty as it is possible for a sociopath to be over not being able to fix a little girl's coma--and we're just going to skim over the ableism and objectification inherent in her being a literal plot point; she could be a broken lamp and this plot point still works--but my dude...SERIOUSLY??? You are Gentleman Johnny Marcone. You have the resources to get the best doctors in the world in the room, and when that doesn't work, you have the resources to get the best scientists on the problem. You even have the resources to get the best magical healers in the room if you want to. But no. You rolled religion and went for the freaking Shroud of Turin. Which would make sense for Nicodemus or any of the Denarians, but for the mobster who business-ified the mob? I suppose this does set up Marcone's slide to the Denarians later in the series, but his WHOLE THING is being the calculated businessman. I don't love this. I also don't love the history of miracle cures in religion being used to moralize illness and disability, but frankly this little piece of scene is too small to really dive into for that.

So yeah, this book is weird about sex, it's ableist, and it's weird about moralizing illness and disability. And that is so obnoxious because we don't HAVE to be weird about this stuff. Plenty of other books manage to address these topics without getting cishet white boy weird about it.

This is also the book where Harry is half tricked, half coerced into taking up Lasciel's coin, and that's a whole thing for the next several books too.

Was there stuff I liked about this book? I mean, objectively yes. Ivy--The Archive--is never not tragically delightful on the page, and the vampire duel at Wrigley Field is damn fun. I also really LIKE Sanya and Shiro on the page, they're great characters with surprising depth for secondary characters.

I will also admit to a deep love for the Denarians. As villains, they're powerful, unhinged, scary, and delightful, and the Nicklehead books are, in general, some of my favorites of the series. Skin Game and Small Favor in particular are my top two in the series.

Overall, however, Death Masks isn't one of my favorite Dresden books, and it really leans into ableist tropes that drive me up the flippin' wall.

#the dresden files #dresden files #jim butcher #harry dresden #death masks #nicodemus archleone #knights of the cross #michael carpenter #urban fantasy #adult fantasy #books and reading #books & libraries #books and novels #books #book recommendations

[nightmarearian]

helloo i just stumbled acress your blog and if you dont mind id like to ask-

FELLOW GENSHIN LORE FAN????

if yes then what are your thoughts on the next dain archon quest-

feel free to ignore/not answer btw, no pressure ^^

FUKC YEAH LOORREEE

I’m more into Khaenri’ah/Abyss lore, than anything else tho, if i’mma be honest lol.

I’m absolutely interested in lore and stories and general though to be honest I think my attention span and sleep deprivation doesn’t allow me to make up anything to big from scratch

Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

But I’d love to bounce of others if it weren’t for my social anxiety so please I’d be absolutely interested in anything with this

I’m really late to answering this shit to where people have already posted the cutscenes of Caribert onto yt, which I watched because impulse control is a myth and I’m quest locked so-

If you haven’t seen it yet then by all means ignore the rest of my rambling;

So Kaeya is specifically the descendant of the founder of the Abyss Order, Chlothar Alberich. Kae outwardly says he has no idea of the origin, with how openly he handles his last name, but he also says it ties up some questions he’s had.

Of course, quote Diluc, “you can only trust half of what he says at best,” so of course taking that with a grain of salt:

At ‘worst’ that means Kae always fuckin knew/This is just the final confirmation about it, and he knows a lot more about the Abyss Order. (Also funfact: one of his first, base lines, like the ones you have access to w/ friendship lvl 1, have something asking “Is the Abyss Order bothering you?” Not to mention there’s an anecdote on “You’re scars of the dark? That’s… interesting.” Oh, and that first archon quest in the domains and stuff; Where Kaeya recognizes hilichurl aren’t this smart and looks like he’s about to talk with a Abyss Mage before adult barges in. And the. “Let’s just say I was blessed with certain… linguistic powers.” Shit, foreshadowing goes deep.)

At best: He had just a bit of knowledge about it, and confirmation opens a lot up for him.

I do doubt he’d actually turn to the Abyss Order, cause Hoyo making him essentially a villain/major (enough) antag would be… uh, unlikely to say the least. I can see some spying on the Abyss Order and double crossing them though, that fits with Kae.

And at the same time, Caribert is apparently Chlothar’s son, right? He’s obviously affected by the curse, being the hilichurl. And so if we’re going with the “Kaeya is from straight up alive Khaenri’ah, not just the ruins” that either means through shenanigans Caribert turned into Kae or Kae has a sibling.

However, Kaeya is called a descendant of Chlothar, so that’s a separation of time; But then that also brings up the question of how Kaeya knows of Khaenri’ah? His Story says things/describes Khaenri’ah in things in general that paints it as if he actually lived there.

Did he live in ruins? Then I doubt he’d have as much knowledge about Khaenri’ah as he could very well likely have (and not tell us, obviously, the little liar [affectionate]). Not to mention the paper he stole when his father showed him about “what being an Alberich” is about and stuff; embers blah blah; that doesn’t sound like ruins…? Ugh. He has a stupid amount of 4-pointed stars on his design too; There is no way he doesn’t know at least a good amount about Khaenri’ah.

Following the Caribert -> Kaeya thing;

Chlothar did fuck around with the Abyss sibling (I play Aether so I’m gonna say Lumine) to try and find a way to help Caribert with the curse and stuff. Hell, after we dig up the bodies when Dain wakes us up, Dain questions if Chlothar found a way to stop the curse or something. So perhaps Chlothar did “cure” (to some level, otherwise they wouldn’t need to do the Loom of Fate shit) of some sorts that returned Caribert?

And then due to Abyssal time shenanigans (it’s already proven to fuck with time, look at Ajax/Childe) memories got fucked and Chlothar decided it’d be best to leave Kaeya in Mond, whether as a spy or for a better life? Kaeya does still have that eyes patch, after all. And it’s not implausible that there was a name change for ambiguity.

But at the same time, a ‘cure’ for the curse would be questionable - why hasn’t it been mass produced/practiced by now then? - not to mention I don’t think Kaeya would only get away from all that with just an eyepatch covering his face. And again, Kaeya was described as a “descendant” of Chlothar, and it’s referred to as an “ancestor/ancestry” specifically, so for the time thing it’s unlikely.

Not to mention, Chlothar also has a bigger star, closer to Dain than Kaeya’s. As Kae put it “pure-blood Khaenri’ahn”.

So yeah, Kaeya is probably just more of a descendant, if his appearance contradicting the description of a Khaenri’ahn has to say anything (“Light hair, fair skin, star-pupil” Kae is one of the 3 playable characters that has a darker skin tone, he has dark blue hair, and his star pupil is small than compared to Dain or Halfdan. …Though Chlothar has black hair. Huh).

But bring up the fact that he describes Khaenri’ah like he’s lived there and the. That brings up and entire other question/argument. Then what was Kaeya’s father, Chlothar or not, doing? Was he part of the Abyss Order? Or was it just something purely Khaenri’ahn? How is he not affected by the curse; was it the fact that he’s only part Khaenri’ahn?

So much questions so little information. This is the reason I love and hate lore aaaaaaa-

Okokok

Caribert & Kae are siblings? - Again the “descendant” and “ancestry” thing, and he is suspiciously absent if they are siblings. (Huh, the abyss/Khaenri’ah is having the small theme of siblings/siblings in arms. Aether & Lumine; Dain & Halfdan as brothers in arms; hell, in the more abyss based - Childe, you know with Teucer and shit, and then Kaeya, with Caribert or Diluc.

Of course I’m in love with the head cannon that Kae is from when Khaenri’ah was actually alive lmao :,)

And that’s only Kaeya, granted he is my favorite.

Now, the travelers. (Again, Aether as traveler, Lumi as Abyssal sibling)

Right. So we see Lumine’s memories of her time traveling with Dain, in which she meets Chlothar Alberich, who she sorta-helps with his son, Caribert. Then, once she wakes up, Chlothar goes on for a bit about the abyss being the answer to the curse or something, etc.

Assumedly, this would be where Chlothar founded the Abyss Order? At least, this is the main inviting event that leads to the Abyss Order.

I think, if I’ve read this correctly, Lumine is still traveling with Dain, so it’s not like she actively helps and joins with Chlothar. If what we say as the traveler in Lumine’s memories actually did happen, she probably joins the Abyss later; Alberich, maybe partly the fact that she’s princess of Khaenri’ah and was also incredibly helpful to the creation of the abyss order, gives her the title of Princess in the Abyss Order.

Did something happen during the travel that caused her to join the Order? Or was it just the fact of mulling it over for fuck knows how long and then splitting with Dain that got her to join?

Also, if the Alberich clan took over after the fall of King Irmin, then how do Lumine and Aether go into this? Are the the kids of King Irmin? We’re they too young to rule or something; then how was Lumine old enough to see the fall of Khaenri’ah? By then wouldn’t there be enough time for at least one for the sibling to rule? Then how come there’s no mention of it?

Hell there’s even the question of just how Aether could share memories with Lumine. Technically, nothing happened there that would indicate that there’s be like.. something to fuck around with for memories. By all means it’s just a place. Did another event happen here? Was the curse from Caribert just that strong/not as specific? Am I just looking a bit too into this part because let’s be honest they probably just need to drop this lore somehow?

Also, when Chlothar is talking to Caribert on the ledge, he says something along the lines of “remember this is a new place”

Essentially: This is new from what we know, it weird. (Come back here, please)

That either means something was fucky with Sumeru making it fantastical or they just left Khaenri’ah, which is more likely.

Then how long has Dain & Lumine been travling? The ruins of Khaenri’ah are said to be underground around Sumeru, curtesy of Kaeya*.

(*Wait, for the small story Kaeya tells, he say he want to go to Sumeru to learn more of his origins - again, grain of salt for the pathological liar - but that overall implies that he’s never been to the ruins of Khaenri’ah. Of course he could just be lying and as a child he just want to go home, even if said home we’re ruins, but still.)

How recent was the destruction of Khaenri’ah, then? Cause Dain & Lumine are both treating it as if it’s been long - Chlothar says something like “your alias” which implies that Lumine has been using the name “Traveler” during her travels with Dain long enough for it to just become.. well, her deficit alias.

And if Lumine was the Princess of Khaenri’ah, why would she give Chlothar an alias? He clearly has big fuckin stars for his pupils; If the destruction of Khaenri’ah was that recent, why would she be so guarded? Was Alberich suspicious during the reign of Khaenri’ah? But the Alberich clan took over in Irmin’s stead, meaning they were trustworthy and powerful enough to keep an entire kingdom together.

Just how long as is then since Khaenri’ah’s destruction, then? If it’s been long enough to where being weary of another Khaenri’ah is just “expected”, then there’s no reason for Chlothar to remind Caribert about our go Khaenri’ah.

If it hasn’t been to long, then why has Lumine not revealed herself, relieved at the survival and… not-hilichurl-indication of her people? And why do Dain & Lumine treat/talk about their travel, even just in Sumeru, as if it had went on for an long time?

Aaaaaaa-

I’d continue but’s it’s 2 am on a school night (morning) and I have an “out-of-sight, out-of-mind” brain so just. Take this. GN and thanks for asking! :D

#this has been mainly Kaeya huh #ah well #I also want more lore on Skirk and abyss!Childe #but I mean self indulgence lol #genshin impact #kaeya alberich #kaeya #lumine #Aether #traveler genshin impact #lore #Caribert archon quest #Caribert #Chlothar Alberich #lore speculation #theories #Genshin spoilers #spoilers #whoop whoop #goodnight #<3 #lmao #not beta read #we die like the light in Childe’s eyes

[scarfgremlin]

Mirror - Promtober Day 14

A Colllaborative Piece - Moon's Part (written by @kikiwritesfanfic on Tumblr aka @/chocolatechipkiki on Discord) or on Google Docs!

Word Count: 3.7k (Sun's Part is also in Google Docs available, weeee)

Warnings for: mention of death, panicking, blood, derealization, anxiety, trauma, mild violence and a lot of fear! NOT A HAPPY ENDING! So please take care when reading!

Cozy, warm evenings were a thing you never would have thought would become a routine after the sunny robot moved in with you.

Well, "moved in with you" is a bit generous. In the eyes of Fazbear you stole him, on the other hand how could you let him rot in the Pizzaplex, after all that happened?

It took some time for him to settle, to feel comfortable enough to not jump at every small noise.

Oh, and what a challenge it was to find a solution to the whole darkness problem. Sun became a crying and sobbing mess everytime you would reach for the light switch, straight up begging you to leave the lights on. You didn't understand at first, Moon wasn't...there anymore. He vanished along with whatever took hold of their system during their life in the Pizzaplex.

It clicked later that, even though Moon was no longer there– no longer able to torment Sun. The memories of that time still are. The sunny robot spent months, if not a whole year alone, fretting and worrying that his counterpart might hurt more people.

You ended up buying a small nightlight for him. A bear per his request.

It was then that things slowly started to change for the better. It still took months to get where you are now, but it was worth it.

You smile, contently snuggling closer to Sun's chest as he gives an offended gasp toward the Tv. "Sunshine! Did you see what that discourteous man just did!?" he whines with a low growl, throwing his arms into the air, his rays giving the familiar click-click sound. You give a hum, glancing toward the screen where Hans just stormed out of the room, leaving Anna alone.

"I did Sunny"' you pat his chest, reaching up to take his left arm and hug it. Sun gives a short squack at that, the humming of his servos beneath you growing a tad louder. "And I say: boo! Begone Hans!" there is a noise of agreement from the celestial bot as he joins you in the booing. It stops as soon as Olaf comes into the scene, and Sun is frantically trying to tell him to move away from the fireplace, or else he'll melt. You start to laugh at that, easing into a chuckle as Sun gives you an offended look.

You don't really focus on the movie after that. Busy drawing little circles onto Sun's palm, he squirms occasionally, tutting at you to stop because it tickles. You don't stop, and he eventually gives up, placing his free hand on your head where he starts to play with a few strands of your hair.

The rest of the movie is over before you can fully process it, the end credits rolling up and bathing the room in their soft light.

Sun reaches over to turn on the small lamp without missing a beat, not once looking into the dark room. You give his hand a small squeeze. Telling him that you're here if needed.

Then the room falls into a comfortable silence, just the two of you huddling closer and enjoying the other's presence.

"Sunshine" Sun hums after a while, startling you out of your drifting state, you give a grumble. "I thiiiink we should start doing the dishes, should we not?" you groan rubbing your eyes in the process of sitting up. Turning your head to look at the kitchen. Lo and behold, the dishes are still where you left them. Waiting to get cleaned.

With a nod you stand up, stretching yourself a little before looking at Sun who is already arranging the couch to its original state.

He notices your gaze and freezes, hands sinking into the pillow he is holding with a strained smile, as he realizes what he is doing. The yellow rays retract into his head far too fast.

"I-I'm sorry Sunshine, I-" you quickly shush him with a light smack on his shoulder, grabbing a pink pillow to place it beside a green one. You then look at Sun, waiting for him to place the one he is currently holding right beside the green one.

He uncurls his hands from around the pillow, giving a soft smile as his rays start poking out from around his head. With a melodious hum he finishes the couch with his pillow and you grin, giving a thumbs up.

The dishes are done just as fast.

Both of you fall into the routing of washing and drying before the plates and cups are neatly stacked to where they belong.

Halfway into cleaning you start talking about the film. Complaining about Hans, before Sun starts to gush about Olaf. You chuckle along the conversation, steering it to Anna and Christoph at some point.

And just like that you run out of things to clean, the cutlery already waiting to be dried.

"Oh" you say, disappointed that you have already finished. "How about you go ahead and start brushing your teeth Sunshine?" you open your mouth in protest before you catch his gaze. That wasn't a question you realize.

"Alright" you sigh, pulling the metal chain on the sink plug to drain the water. "But you better hurry!" Sun gives you an eye closed smile, nodding as he ushers you out of the kitchen. "Will do! Now off you go!" he pretends to grab you and you jump away with a squeak, laughing as you run up the stairs and into the bathroom.

Sun waits until he hears the door close before he gives a soft exhale. Not wasting another second he turns on the small extra lights in the kitchen, shuddering as his eyes wander toward the lurking darkness in the living room. It wouldn't hurt to turn on the lights there too, right?

He sets down the drying cloth and strides over to where the light switch is. There is a sudden, prickling sensation at his neck and he squeaks, slamming his hand against the light switch with more force than necessary.

He whirls around in a flash, scanning the room for any and all movement. His body gives an involuntary shudder as the red light of a car passes by the window, he turns his head and takes a deep breath to calm himself.

It's alright, nothing to see where he isn't looking right? Plus he really should finish drying, or else you might start wondering why he isn't coming. Yes, yes. He should finish quickly.

--------------

Giving the kitchen counter one last wipe Sun smiles at the work done. Setting down the rag before turning to flick off the lights.

He halts for a second, staring at the switch before his digit flips it down.

The extra lights dim with a small buzz and Sun turns to walk to the kitchen entrance, his hand already hovering over the switch located there.

He halts yet again, a soft breath slips past his lips before he turns the switch. Yanking his hand out of the darkness as if it would bite him if he didn't.

Turning off the lamp near the couch is easier, due to the bright light on the ceiling still buzzing softly with power. Sun smiles in relief as he goes up the stairs.

Thank the stars that the light switch for the living room can also be accessed on the first floor.

He flicks the lights off and makes a beeline for the bathroom. Eager to be in your calming presence once more.

"Sunmfy!" your voice is muffled due to the toothbrush in your mouth but happy nonetheless. He grins and boops your nose, already feeling the tension leaving his body. With a happy spin of his rays he turns to the mirror to get to his own routine.

"Boo"

Sun freezes at the low voice sounding right behind him, rays halting their spinning before they retreat behind his face. He spins around, stumbling a little and bumping against the sink in his frantic movement. You make a muffled noise of confusion, following his eyes to the wall.

"Sunny? You good?" you reach out to touch his arm but he flinches away, eyes hazed with raising panic as he looks at you. He blinks a second later. "S-Sunshine!" a forced laugh. You narrow your eyes in worry. "A-Ah I was just hearing something!" he lets go of the sink, hoping with a wince that he didn't damage it in the process. "Must've been the neighbors!" he almost stutters again, not feeling good about lying to you. You tilt your head before giving a slow nod and turning to continue brushing your teeth, seemingly believing him.

"Haha!" he chuckles awkwardly, glancing around the bathroom before turning back to the mirror, eyes fixed on the sink.

His battery must be low. The thought passes by quickly as he brings his hands up to his face, they are shaking. He balls them to fists and lowers them carefully, you don't seem to notice and he looks up into the mirror.

"You sure it's the battery Sunny?"

If he had a heart it would have stopped.

If he had blood it would have run cold.

Moon.

He hears you sputter and a second later he hears you coughing.

Did he say that out loud?

"Sun?" your voice is right beside him, worry and the smallest hint of panic weaved into it. He feels your presence not even an inch away from him. The oversized shirt you are wearing grazes his arm.

Sun doesn't look at you as he answers, eyes trained at his own reflection. "Nothing Sunshine" he whispers, voice wobbly and staticy. You hear a slight crack from where he is gripping the sink.

"I'm alright"

He isn't. Screams your mind. He clearly isn't.

Not with how intense he stares into the mirror.

Not with the small tremors that shake his body.

You gulp, nodding once again. Desperate, yet unsure to talk any further. Afraid to push him off the edge and away from you. "Alright..." you continue brushing your teeth, ignoring the urge to talk and sealing the words in your occupied mouth, opting to look at the tiled floor instead.

"Hmm~ the same as ever I see"

Sun can feel how his breath becomes hitched, his insides are twisting and turning as his grip on the sink tightens even more in an attempt to ground him.

"What's wrong Sunny? Surprised to see me?"

Moon's voice is a mocking melody. A familiar, yet haunting tune as it halls in his head and fills every small code with...fear.

Sun snarls, forcefully turning his head away as he squints his eyes shut, trying to steady his erratic breathing.

That's not Moon, Moon is not here anymore.

"Ouch. That hurt my poor feelings"

Sun ignores the laugh as best as he can. Still trying his hardest to breath in and out and not stopping the artificial imitation.

It's not real, it's not real. None of this is.

He repeats that mantra in his head, sinking down until his arms rest on the sink and his face flat atop them. He's just tired, exhausted and in need of a looong charging session.

He nods, jumping upward with a smile. Part of him accepting the white lie in an instant. He immediately turns to you, voice too chipper for comfort.

"Don't worry Sunshine, I'm alright!" he gives your head a pat, hyperaware at how shaky his hands are. But ignorant toward the way your brows furrow in more worry.

"Oh Sunny, you're a mess" Moon croons, tilting his head as Sun's neck snaps back to look at the mirror.

"Afraid of something that isn't even there" his hands reach up to rub at his eyes in a mock-crying gesture. Sun gives a pathetic wince, body locking up as his breath comes labored.

None of this is real.

"You can't escape me Sunny~" the mirror speaks, Moon leans further against it with a cheshire smile, eyes crinkling to slits.

The yellow bot shakes his head with a whimper as panic rises to his processors. Blue eyes wide in horror as he stumbles backward. Away from his counterpart.

There is a split moment as he hears his name reach him in the form of a worried whisper, along with a soft caress down his arm. But the voice sounds distant, disappearing somewhere he can't reach. He is in too deep.

"You can't escape" Moon repeats, his eyes fluttering close as he shakes his head in disappointment. "You can't escape THIS!" the gravel voice suddenly booms in his head as the lunar bot slams a bloodied claw against his side of the mirror. Smearing the red liquid across it.

A dark chuckle follows as the sunny robot brings his shaking hands to his rays. Pulling at them with a pained sob as memories start flooding his head.

A warbled wail leaves his lips as a flash of purple settles in his eyes, it flickers bright for a moment before the usual blue comes back, albeit be it much darker.

Sun doesn't avert his eyes, he can't. Transfixed at the blue reflection in front of him, red droplets of blood slowly inch down the other side of the mirror. He shouldn't- Moon shouldn't be here!

"What? What's the matter Sunny?" Moon sneers, his claws leaving an ugly noise in its wake as they trail down the glass. He awaits an answer.

"I-I...No..." Sun sobs, letting go of his rays and hugging himself as best as he can. "I- I got rid of you- I-'' another sob wracks his already shaking body.

Breathe.

Sun can't hear you calling his name, again and again with a soft but shaky voice.

Nor does he see the confused expression crossing your face at his words. He also doesn't see how you follow his gaze to the mirror, eyes narrowing in worry and fear for him.

Sun tries to remember himself.

Take deep breaths, slowly in and out. One at at time, he can do it he-

Sun's eyes go wide.

He doesn't feel himself breathing! Where- Where did his breath go? His fans kick in at the new surge of panic.

He can't breathe! He forgot how to breathe! He's going to suffocate! He-

"Dumbass!" a sharp hiss interrupts him, it quickly turns into an amused chuckle that evolves into an ugly, staticy laugh. Sun can feel himself tensing up, his fingers digging into his casing.

"Just like the good old times! You really didn't change a bit!" another chuckle, the room behind Moon changes. Suddenly, he is standing back in the daycare, blood dripping from his sharp smile and raised claw.

"Do you remember, Sun? Do you remember the feeling of their small arms between your hands?" Sun's core stutters at that, giving an agonizing hiss before it buzzes loudly in the bathroom.

"Fragile little humans are they not? Easy to break, but so so soofft~" Moon purrs, gaze gliding across the red mess on the padded floor. Small bodies of all the little ones he had the delight of meeting.

Some were eager to see him. Others were- well, not so. He treated them all the same though. He put them all to sleep. In their own, red blankets.

Moon taps his claw against his cheek before his red eyes stare back at Sun, who is currently trying so hard to look away. His smile deepens as he mouths words that hold no voice for him, but still reach Sun. Nestling painfully deep into the solar bots mind, successfully opening the gate to memories bathed in crimson.

The yellow bot shrieks in despair. Jumping backward until his back collides with the wall and he brings his shaking hands in front of his eyes.

No more. No more of that please!

A cackle is all that reaches him. "No use hiding in the present Sunny! The past will catch up! I am still a part of you!'' manic laughter rings through his body, he can't tell if it was Moon laughing, or if he did. He dreaded to know.

"Look at yourself! You could snap their neck in a moment's notice! See the fear in their eyes again" Sun clamps his hands over his mouth, interrupting his frantic clawing for a moment. He is afraid to give an answer, he is afraid that he said those words out loud.

Soft tutting follows. "You know I'm right" the words sound gentle but Sun shakes his head.

Moon doesn't stop.

"You did it before. Children were crying, every time you tried to calm them! The fear in their eyes~" another purr from his counterpart, from his reflection. "Oh the fear in their little eyes! That's all you're ever good for Sunny".

Sun claws at his face again as Moon continues to talk. His raspy voice whispering venomous and painful words to him, choked sobs slip past his lips as dark tears roll down his cheek. Pleads and begs is all he can give as an answer. Make it stop.

"Don't forget, I'll always be a part of you"

No! Stop. Stop it Moon!

Sun sobs, body shaking so hard he stumbles forward. Right into the waiting arms of the grinning Moon.

"Don't run! Come here my sweet brother!" Moon laughs, sharp teeth glistening in red.

Every wire inside of Sun, every inch of his coding screams at those words.

A desperate and distressed noise that only gets cut off at the sound of his fist colliding with the mirror.

The glass first splinters, then shatters, before its sharp shards rain down onto the tiled ground. Each of them hitting it with a clink.

Sun is sobbing. Sinking down to the floor as all strength leaves him.

His head buzzes painfully, vision fading from black to normal for several seconds. He can feel his core humming loudly, almost vibrating in his chest. He feels hot and cold at the same time, the hot is painful. It feels like he gets burnt from the inside out, heat threatening to melt his casing if he doesn't calm down anytime soon.

His body is shaking as he curls his arms around it, eyes directed at the floor as he feels his mind gradually clearing.

…

Moon isn't talking anymore.

Sun looks up. The hint of a smile on his lips.

That, however, is wiped clean the second he sets eyes on your form cowering in the far corner of the bathroom.

You are trembling. Arms raised protectively above your face to shield you from the glass shards. Wait-

A strangled noise leaves Sun's chest as he notices the pieces of the mirror lying around him. He looks back over to you and catches your eyes.

They are trembling in fear, you have your lips firmly pressed together, forming a thin line.

Sun's rays shrink further into his head, painfully scraping against another as he reaches out toward you. He stops as you flinch away, pressing yourself further against the corner of the wall. A cold terror takes hold of his entire form, freezing him in place.

Several seconds pass, you don't dare move. Still shaken from what happened, your head hurts from the blood curdling scream Sun let go minutes ago. You shudder at the memory.

"D-Dear...?" Sun reaches for you again, holding out his hand in a silent offer. No, in a silent plea for you to take it.

You can't be afraid of him right? He- He didn't do anything wrong! He was just- He-

Sun nearly chokes on nothing as you stand up, ignoring his hand. Your legs are shaking from the adrenalin as you hold onto the bathtub.

You don't miss the way Sun yanks his hand back, holding it close to his chest.

"I-I need a moment" you whisper, the gentle tone not as present as you want it to. Instead, your voice trembles just as bad as your body does. You try to smile as blue eyes settle on you, but you can't manage that either.

"S-See you later" you then mumble, trying to reach for Sun in an attempt to reassure him that you are willing to be in his presence. But he leans away, you gulp. Hurrying out of the bathroom and off into your own room.

Silence fills the bathroom as Sun listens to your footsteps echoing down the hallway. His mind is blank, unable to grasp a decent thought. The hallway grows still as the door falls shut behind you. Sun flinches at the noise.

…

A quiet sob tears through the silence of the bathroom.

Sun slumps forward, burying his face in his pants as more sobs shake his body. His hands find the back of his head, fingers touching the exposed wiring there before he tugs at it.

The words from Moon gabe him despair, but the fear in your eyes as you looked at him? The way your body shook and flinched away as he reached for you? He felt his heart shatter at that.

He messed up.

Sun messed up the one good thing that happened after the Pizzaplex, didn't he?

Sun sniffles and looks up. There is glass lying everywhere, littering the ground like the plastic balls from the daycare. He feels a familiar twitch in his fingers.

"Clean up..." he mumbles, standing up ever so slowly as he goes to a small niche located behind a curtain, to get a broom.

He moves the cleaning tool with practiced ease– back and forth, always back and forth – and the shards on the ground clink together.

A grumble leaves him as he notices the smallest of glass splinters slipping through the rough bristles.

"Clean up! Clean up!" he chides himself, falling back into his old protocols in an instant. His mind gradually grows silent, the ping to clean up blocks out almost everything else.

Only as he stands straight to go and dispose of the glass shards does he stop, turning his head to glance at the mirror and his shattered reflection. Dark tear stains now adorn his face.

Moon was right, wasn't he?

Sun closes his eyes, and once he opens them again, his counterpart smiles at him from the mirror. Broken and shattered, but Sun can see the sharp teeth clearly.

He turns away, slowly making his way down to the kitchen, not bothering to turn on the light.

In the end, fear is all he can elicit from people.

#i was not ok writing this #but it was still a lot of fun! #a hecking amount of angst gonna be thrown at you all #in both parts #have some tea and cookies after you finish #as a reward and compensation #promptober #sun x reader #moon x reader #angst #sun fnaf #fnaf moon #sundrop #moondrop #writing challenge #fnaf sb #fnaf #it was a lot of fun!! #thank you Kiki <33 #to everyone in the european timezone #i didn't post it on day 15 #nu-uh