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galedekarios · 30 days

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minsc & gale

recently i've been doing a playthrough taking minsc along during the limited amount of time we do get to connect with his character in the game and i have to say he's growing on me in a way he didn't in previous titles.

i wanted to take the opportunity here to write a short post about his relationship with gale because that, too, is something i found myself enjoying despite the (too) few interactions that we have between them.

minsc's initial thoughts about gale

Player: How are you and Gale getting along? Minsc: I do not wish to speak of the wizard. Minsc: I could not have said it better myself. - Player Option 1: Gale's great - what's your problem with him? Minsc: He came to me one night with a little book of mischief - full of words and their meanings. Minsc: 'Posterior', he says. 'Can you say 'posterior'?' I refused! Minsc does not need to know the language of wizards. Player: 'Posterior' isn't wizard-talk - it's another word for 'butt'. Minsc: It is an inferior word. Far too long to use in a battle cry, which is where a 'butt' belongs. Minsc: Gale would do better to educate himself in the ways of sword and steel than to throw these pointy words at Minsc. Minsc: Ai, yes. Gale also owns a cat. A cat with wings! That is most unnerving for poor Boo. Player: You should give him a break - he's only trying to help. Minsc: Never! If he is not careful, Boo will shred his books and use them as bedding! - Player Option 2: Did you know that he has an explosive magical orb in his chest that could destroy a city? Minsc: WHAT? Minsc: That is a thousand times more interesting than anything that has ever been written in a book. Minsc: GALE! MY GOOD FRIEND! WHERE ARE YOU? MINSC AND BOO WOULD LIKE TO HEAR ABOUT THE EXPLODING.

they may not start off on the right foot, but with gale's genuine interest in other people's cultures as well as his perception and easy-going nature that changes:

sorcerous sundries

Minsc: Minsc has never trusted places such as this. Too much of a wizard's power can be simply packaged and picked up. devnote: Grumbling as we make our way through the shelves of Sorcerous Sundries Minsc: Well, picked up by all but Minsc. When he touches the many delicate little jars, oh how the wizards shout and stare! devnote: Revealing that his objection of Sorcerous Sundries is not in fact a deep philosophical belief that wizards have too much power - they just make him feel stupid and awkward when he pokes at their things Gale: Fear not, Minsc. You have a wizard at your side who positively encourages such curiosity. You'll fit right in. devnote: Reassuring Minsc: Obliged, wizard. Should we find our way to a weaponsmith, Minsc will rough you up a little - so that you too can fit in. devnote: Warm, comradely, would genuinely be doing Gale a favour

i feel like it truly speaks to gale's character that he doesn't dismiss minsc here - neither his feelings of inadequacy nor his innate curiosity about the things he perceives as wizardly.

it would've been very easy for gale - the wizard prodigy, the former chosen, to archwizard - to act the part of the haughty scholar, akin to the arrogant wizards that minsc describes in this banter, looking down on him, shouting at him, but gale doesn't.

gale reassures minsc, encourages him, telling him he'll fit right in. it reminds me of the way he treats karlach and fostering her interest in books and reading. another pair of seemingly polar opposites that still find a connection. i do think gale is quite natural at this, despite his long time spent in isolation.

and minsc does appreciate it - his tone changes to one of warmth, one of camaraderie - and i think this is also when minsc's perception of gale changes: from the annoying wizard to someone he sees as a companion and friend.

rashemi traditions

Minsc: Gale. Minsc worries you might send a fireball up his butt, with all of this stringy hair in your face. Gale: Is that why you keep your head shaved? I assumed it was a custom of some sort. devnote: Curious, referring to Minsc's origins Minsc: Oh, no! Most warriors of Rashemen wear long battle-braids, weighed down with stone. Minsc can show you, when next we camp? Gale: Thank you, but I'm more wizard than warrior. I'm not sure my scalp would stand up to such a plaiting. devnote: Very politely declining

i like this banter for several reasons: i think not only does it show the progression of their relationship with minsc offering to show gale the traditions of his homeland, gale also shows the same curiosity he shows many different cultures and ways of life, same as he does with lae'zel for instance and githyanki culture.

when he declines minsc's offer, he does so politely, without insulting minsc's traditions, putting the onus on himself instead. he's the wizard, not the warrior.

house of hope

Minsc: Gale! You will perhaps able to explain where Boo has not - what exactly is the difference between a devil and a demon? Gale: A fascinating question, one that boils down to which criteria we choose to apply. Are we speaking about the physiological? Theological? Etymological? devnote: In teacher-mode - up for an in-depth, intellectual discussion Minsc: Eh. Just how-to-kill... -ical. devnote: Non-plussed, echoing Gale's ending every word with 'ical' Gale: Oh. Then for your purposes, they are exactly the same. devnote: Disappointed

this banter genuinely made me laugh. again, i like how it shows the progression of their friendship, to the point of where minsc goes from finding gale annoying to imitating his speech. and gale doesn't put it beyond minsc to have an 'in-depth, intellectual' discussion... even if he is disappointed by the end of their banter, realising that minsc's priorities are... elsewhere.

wychlaran

depending on your party composition and who you take with you, minsc can also call gale his wychlaran.

The Wychlaran, meaning "wise old women" in the ancient language of Halardrim, also known as the Witches of Rashemen outside their lands, were the spiritual leaders of Rashemen, communing with the spirits and guiding the souls of the Rashemi people.

minsc does use it, too, to describe a special bond and a sense of duty and protectiveness to the people he ascribes this title to. he did so in bg1 with dynaheir and in bg2 with aerie.

elminster

Minsc: It must be difficult for Gale to imagine great Elminster a-courting. Writing poems. Doing... certain... deeds. Gale: Long before my time, thank goodness. That's not an image I care to dwell on. Minsc: Ugh. It is difficult for Minsc to think of, too. Let us speak no more of it. Minsc: ... Minsc: Of Elminster and the sex, I mean.

another banter that did genuinely make me laugh despite the seriousness of the situation, especially given the bond that elminster and gale share as well, which speaks of paternal feelings on elminster's part that come with a certain sense of responsibility, as well as gale's admiration, but also often exasperation with his former mentor.

on a more serious note, minsc offers great insights in his interactions with gale and gale's story:

mystra and the vremyonni

The vremyonni or Old Ones were an arcane brotherhood in Rashemen. Men that were arcane spellcasters in Rashemen had two choices, exile or to join the vremyonni. Many vremyonni were kept alive for eons by longevity magic. Vremyonni were expert weaponsmiths and magic item creators. On very rare occasions, vremyonni would fight in the defense of Rashemen. Vremyonni used secrets of magic that even the Witches of Rashemen did not use, destructive spells forbidden among the wilds of Rashemen, in case such magic was needed. The Running Rocks harbored secret strongholds of the vremyonni. All vremyonni wore masks.

Minsc: Gale reminds me of the vremyonni of my homeland. The man-mages of Rashemen. Minsc: While the girl-folk go on to rule as wychlaran, Weave-touched boys were hidden away. Trained to work their craft in silence and secrecy. Minsc: It is an old custom, not well-observed. In truth I thought it born of caution, after some catastrophe wrought by wizardly men-folk of old. Minsc: Now I wonder if it was not done to hide them from Mystra, and the snares she sets for young and prideful boys, hm? Minsc: Though this suggests that Mystra has never tempted a witch into foolishness. Not that I would blaspheme by suggesting otherwise. Minsc: I forget why I began this long and winding story. Yes Boo - we have been spending too long around the wizard.

i think this is a very interesting banter, especially since it's also only marked to trigger if gale agrees to return the crown to mystra.

it's easy to dismiss this banter, laugh it off as just another instance of minsc being minsc, but i think it's important to consider it within the context of game canon and what has been shown to us.

it's a story and everything within a story is there for a reason.

another great insight from minsc comes if gale is pushed towards the crown by the player:

gale and godhood

Minsc: Who among us has not been spurned by a lover? But a word of advice, if Minsc may be so bold: Minsc: Let the wizard lick his wounds. Write some rickety rhymes, and weep most manfully into his hamster's hide. Eh - his cat's hide. Minsc: But... his boasting is unbecoming. 'Claim godhood', he says? Will this make him any less a man with a half-mended heart?

again, minsc does at times share great insight into other characters and he does so here again with gale:

will this make him any less a man with a half-mended heart?

i think it quite accurately goes straight to the crux of what makes it so very easy to push gale towards godhood: he is hurt. he feels abandoned. by his goddess. by his former lover. both as a mystran and on deeply personal level.

he is drifting, seeking something to hold his head above the water. if it's not the protag's love or friendship, it will be the crown.

anyhow, i never expected to write this when i first learned that minsc would be a companion, but i truly did enjoy him and his interactions with gale in particular.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #minsc of rashemen #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 meta #ch: gale dekarios #ch: minsc #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3

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feyreswaterybowels · 2 months

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⭒The Silent One⭒

#2 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Cassandra decides to join the IC for dinner. Things feel weird and wrong but also…safe and comfortable. She opens up to them about her past traumas and gets to know more about them.

Warnings/Tags: mentions physical and visual sexual abuse in the recent past. describes physical violence. trauma. mute character. slow burn. protective!azriel. protective!IC.

Authors Note: All reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Regular italics are inter thoughts while bold italics are her communicating with other people mentally.

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“Relax,” Nuala cooed as she helped Cassandra ease into the large bath, warm and floral scented.

Cassandra had never been in a bath like this. Only one suited for regular fae without wings. They had been cramped and uncomfortable and nearly impossible to bathe everywhere without hurting a wing. But this bath? It was huge and could easily fit multiple people with and without wings. It stretched all the way to one of those glassless windows where the water spilled over in a soothing stream.

She leaned back when Nuala prompted, letting her wings float in the water. It was so nice the way they felt so weightless. Nuala tilted her head back and their eyes met as she cupped her hands with water and poured it over Cassandra’s white hair. She lathered it with a nice smelling soap, massaging at her scalp.

It was difficult to lay there and relax while someone else washed her hair. It reminded her of the mistress, how when she bathed her and washed her hair it was rushed and rough and…and when she washed her hair like this she would sometimes push her head under the water and hold her there—

Cassandra bolted up with a gasp, hands coming up to wipe away the water that fell down from her hair and over her face, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She whirled around, wide eyes catching Nuala’s, trying to desperately apologize for what she had done. The female just shook her head gently.

“It’s okay,” She said, “would you like to be left alone for a moment?”

Cassandra considered this, she both wanted to be alone and have someone else around. But she nods her head. Cerridwen walked in then, a stack of something in her hand.

“Clothes for you,” she said, sitting the stack on a shelf across the room. “We will be back but if you finish with your bath and wish to dress before we return the clothes will be here.”

Cassandra nods. She doesn’t know what else to do, but the females seem to understand, offering her small nods in return before leaving the room—the heavy door closing as they leave the bedroom the bedroom.

She sinks down in the water once she’s sure she’s alone. So much has changed in such a short time and she’s still not sure if this is all real. These people…they could change any moment. Drag her from this huge room and throw her into a prison cell and use her for whatever they pleased.

Turning in the water she pushed herself towards the other end of the tub, the one that waterfalls over the edge. What she sees there takes her breath away, an audible gasp leaving her lips.

The first thing she notices is all the lights, it looked exactly like the painting she saw with Morrigan. There was so much to look at. But what she really wanted to see was the beautiful sight above that. The night sky. The thousands of stars twinkling above, surrounding a bright moon.

She could have cried looking at the sight. But not because she felt sad, she felt safe. Comfortable. Content. Like this was where she was meant to be.

Eventually she did get out of the bath, drying herself off with the fluffy white towel that was unnaturally warm. She stopped in front of the mirror, surprised at her own reflection. She looked so different from the last time she actually saw herself. Her skin that was once a golden caramel color was lighter and ashen, dark circles under her green eyes. Her white hair slicked back with water was thinner than when it used to fall in thick ringlets as a girl. Her rib cage and hip bones protruding in a way they always had but wished they hadn’t. She had wanted a thicker, fuller body like the girls she saw at the pleasure houses. A strong body like her mothers used to be. A body that could hold up her wings and maybe one day…fly.

She had gotten dressed before Nuala and Cerridwen returned. The clothes weren’t like anything she’d ever worn before. Cream colored pants that were lined with a fuzzy material that was softer than anything she’d ever worn before. The top was a matching cream, flowy top with sleeves that stopped at her elbows and buttoned up the back to accommodate her wings. The shoes were white, flat and slipped on her feet easily.

She chose not to attend dinner that night. She wasn’t sure she could stomach any food. The twins looked disappointed. Her decision had been made to gauge how she would be treated if she didn’t have dinner with this high lord male.

She didn’t leave her room the following day either.

Or the day after that.

No one bothered her. No one came to drag her from the room kicking and screaming. No one beat on the door or called her horrible names. No one held her down or forced the food into her mouth. In fact no one except Nuala and Cerridwen came to her room at all.

And when they came they would bring a small tray of food, she only ever drank the tea and ate the biscuit and left everything else. She didn’t want to take too much before knowing if she was expected to do something in return.

When she finally felt safe enough she agreed to dinner on her fourth night. Nuala bathed her again. She couldn’t help the panic that overcame her once again as the female washed her hair but she cooed at her, soothingly before getting up and leaving her to finish alone as she had the first night.

Cerridwen took on fixing her hair, drying and styling it into waves that fell over her shoulders. Once she was done and dressed Nuala put a cream on her face and spritzed her with something that smelled sweet.

When they were done she felt like a different person. She felt clean. Comfortable. Alive.

There wasn’t much time to dwell on her feelings of finally leaving the room before Nuala and Cerridwen pulled her up and escorted her down the maze of hallways.

“Just two doors down, you’ll find the dining room,” Cerridwen pointed down the hall with a small smile. Cassandra wanted to ask why they weren’t also joining but when she turned to face them they were just gone as if they disappeared into thin air.

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Walking into the dining room was a weird feeling. Cassandra didn’t feel like she belonged there. In the fancy room, with a huge table filled with foods…foods she had never seen before. The four people she had met three days ago—and another she hadn’t met, all sat around the table talking in hushed whispers.

Azriel was the first to look over. His eyes met hers and offered her a small smile. “Cassandra,” his deep voice greeted.

“I’m glad you decided to join us this evening, please come sit,” Rhysand said, standing and motioning to the empty seat next to him, where Azriel would be on her other side—Morrigan in front of her and Cassian next to her. The other female at the opposite end of the table from Rhysand.

Cassandra hesitated for only a moment before walking over and realizing that the chair was designed to accommodate wings. She wouldn’t have to sit at some weird angle to be comfortable. Her eyes meet Azriel’s, the gentle look on his face a comfort she needed. He stood from his spot, sliding the chair out and gesturing for her to sit.

She felt eyes on her as she scanned all of the food in front of her. She had never seen so much food.

“I trust everything went okay the last few days?” Rhysand asked as he took his own seat once again.

“I freaked out a little when Nuala was washing my hair…” Cassandra admitted, shoulders hunching in embarrassment.

“That’s okay, no need to be upset. You’ve been through a lot, it’s expected. Nuala and Cerridwen are understanding and won’t hold it against you. You have my word on that.”

She wanted to say thank you again but didn’t feel it was appropriate. She didn’t know what else to say so she nodded her head and looked towards that other female, freezing as she looked into glowing silver eyes. She had never seen anything so…beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

A snort to her side caught her attention and she looked at Rhysand.

“Sorry, I just heard that,” Rhysand said, Cassandra’s eyebrows pulled together before realization dawned on her. The comment about the other female… “Amren.” Rhys supply’s the name.

She looks back to the female, to those eyes that make her not want to look away.

“Hello, girl,” She greets, and it’s not a terrifying rumble, but a genuine greeting.

Cassandra offers a small smile, feeling a draw to the small female. No one else spoke so she reached for a plate but before her fingers could even graze it, it filled with food before her eyes. She blinked at it in shock, looking to Rhysand to see if he had done it.

There was a small smile on his lips as he shook his head.

“The house is enchanted, it does what it pleases. You wanted food so it filled your plate for you,” Azriel spoke, she looked over at him then back at the plate.

Oh, wow. She thought…the food had even been diced into smaller pieces as she had told Rhysand. Her eyes fell on the wine glass in front of her—she wouldn’t drink it, couldn’t, so she looked at Azriel again then around the room. Water. And just like that, a glass of water appeared in front of her.

Cassandra felt the corners of her mouth twitch up, eyes meeting Azriel’s again then Rhysands before she grabbed the glass of water.

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“It’s pretty awesome, right?” Cassian spoke, his long hair that had been pulled back earlier now fell to his shoulders.

Cassandra nodded in answer, sitting her glass back on the table. Rhys took his seat, grabbing his wine glass, silently observing the female as she reached for her fork.

“I’ve never had this much food before…”

Rhys isn’t surprised but he’s not expecting the words and they make his heart hurt.

“Eat as much as you’d like,” Rhys says warmly, watching as she scoops up some warm potatoes and brings them to her lips.

“Mm” she hums, eyes closing. “That’s so good!” Rhys doesn’t answer, he can tell she’s not speaking to him consciously, she’s just thinking, not a single mental shield to protect her fragile mind.

It’s the next bite that wipes the small mine from all the faces. No longer an exploratory bite but a ravenous one. One after another, eating quickly and without restraint. Eating in a way that meant she had been starving, had never had an adequate food supply, had never been allowed to eat more than what was given.

She didn’t speak and neither did they. None of them would tell her to stop or slow down, all having been there at some point in their lives. They had all known that hunger at one point or another. So they let her eat. And drink. And eat some more.

Potatoes. Greens. Fruit. Meat. Bread. A plate appeared next to her holding a slice of cake and she ate that too—she had never had cake before but no one else at the table knew that.

It’s only when her plate is empty that anyone speaks up. It’s Cassian that asks, “How do you feel you’re settling in?” It’s an attempt to bring about a conversation without making her uncomfortable.

Cassandra takes a slow sip of water, breathing deeply as she does before looking at Rhysand who nods in confirmation that he’ll give her answer.

“Honestly…I feel more comfortable here than I have ever felt anywhere else.”

“That’s wonderful! We want you to be as comfortable as possible,” Morrigan chimes in, excited as if she’d been waiting to talk to Cassandra for the past three days. “When we didn’t see you for three days we were worried—well I was. The boys wanted to give you some space.”

“I didn’t know what was expected of me,” she says, Rhysand repeats her and she’s met with confused frowns. “That’s why I stayed away, didn’t eat much. I didn’t know if anything would be…expected of me in return if I did.”

“You have no debt to us, Cassandra. Nothing is expected of you,” Rhysand speaks, his voice firm but gentle. “If you wish to come to dinner you eat your fill until you’re satisfied. If you need clothes you wear what you like and it’s yours to keep. Nothing will ever be taken or held against you as punishment of any kind.”

Cassandra blinks at him, feels the wetness in her eyes as she nods. There’s just one nagging question in her mind, one she needs an answer to before she gets too comfortable.

“Why am I here then?” She asks, setting her fork down on a freshly filled plate, half as full as before.

Rhysand lets out a sigh before telling the others what she’d asked.

“You are here because I received word from one of Azriel’s spies—I’ll give you a more in depth explanation on what that means at another time—that pleasure houses in my court were buying and selling females against their will,” Rhysand begins to explain. “See we have many pleasure houses in Velaris but it has always been law that consent is the main requirement for anyone involved. Those who work or visit have to be there because they want to be there.”

“So, when we got word this law had been broken, Rhys sent us out to patrol the pleasure houses,” Azriel said, drawing her attention to him, “he needed solid proof of the law being broken before he could step in. Cassian and I, we saw you there. Scared. Frightened. Clearly not there of your own free will and didn’t feel it was safe for you to stay there.”

Cassandra looked at him, taking in the shadows swirling around him. His kind hazel eyes, the blue siphons glowing on his scarred hands. Remembered how when her eyes first landed on him on the other side of those bars she had been absolutely terrified of him.

“What about the…Mistress?” She asked turning away from Azriel to look at Rhysand.

“You no longer have to call her mistress, her name is Kamari. She is still here in our cells, she’s not been harmed. We are working to gather some intel from her. Who her bosses are, where they are buying the females and any other information we can get from her. She’s been cooperative in giving us the information we need to stop this from happening to any other females,” Rhysand said, eying the female in front of him before looking to his second in command.

“Do you have any information that may help us, girl? Anything we could use against that female to get more information?” Amren asks, fixing her smoky eyes on the female.

Cassandra was quiet for a moment, thinking. Trying to piece together everything she could remember. She looks up and nods her head. Everyone seemed to sit a little straighter, their full attention on her alone.

“My father is the one who sold me to a male named Vale. Blue skin, a long deep scar across his face, black eyes…mean and very strong—”

Rhysand hold his hand up, relaying the information to Azriel and you watch curiously as one of his shadows darts away and out of a window.

“Cassandra, do you mind if I open up a channel for everyone to hear what you say to me? It will help us find these people,” Rhysand asks, she doesn’t need to think before she nodded. She wanted to help in any way she could. Help any girls going through what she did and stopping more from going through it.

“Please, continue,” Rhysand encouraged.

“The male, Vale, had bought other females. He kept me me in a dark room under his home with three other females. He—he raped one of the girls many time but not me or the other two girls. He said he would get more money for us if we stayed…untouched.” Cassandra’s stomach rolled at the memories. Nauseated, remembering the cries of that poor girl every time that man came down stairs and hurt her. She could see the anger in the eyes that surrounded her, could practically feel it radiating from them. Their fists and jaws clenched tightly, wings rigid and shoulders taunt. But she continued.

“I stayed there for a few months before he took me to that…pleasure house? I’m not sure what happened to the other girls. I think he may have kept the one he raped.”

“Do you know their names?” Cassian asks and she’s nods. How could she ever forget them?

“Seera, Juno and Neema. I believe Seera and Juno were sister but I’m not completely sure. We tried not to talk too much because it made the male very angry,” She took a deep breath, trying not to remember the time he had nearly crushed her throat for merely asking to use the bathroom.

Unbeknownst to her she had sent that mental image to them who were seething with anger at what this poor girl had gone through.

“Once I was at that place I was introduced to Miss—I was introduced to Kamari,” She continued, needing to get away from the memories of that male. “She was in charge of my training. She stripped me naked, told me I would never own a pair of clothes again. That I was to be naked and ready for any male to take me whenever they pleased. I was to learn things that would…please these males. Anytime I refused I was beaten. So, for months I watched other females pleasure males in many ways. But only watched. They said—she said I would be sold for a lot of money for being untouched. That whoever paid the most could do whatever they wanted to me. When I saw the two of you I thought—” She swallowed thickly eyes shooting between Azriel and Cassian. “I though you were going to—”

Her voice cracks and she looks away. Morrigan pushes out of her chair, walking around the table. “Can I hug you?” She asks.

All Cassandra can do is nod letting Morrigan wrap strong arms around her. Hugging her tightly. Holding her in a way that reminded her of her mother before she died. After a moment Morrigan pulls away offering a napkin to wipe her eyes.

“Cassandra, dear, we can be done for today if it’s too much to continue,” Rhysand offers gently.

She nods gently, feeling as if maybe she wasn’t much help at all. The rest of dinner is spent in silence, Cassandra hunched into herself while the other four fae think about killing everyone who hurt this innocent girl and many more.

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It’s later that evening when Cassandra slips from her room. The stone floor is cold under her feet and the satin nightgown doesn’t do much to keep the cold from her skin so she tucks her wings around her body.

She makes her way to the roof of the house, a training area the twins had told her was up here—they had also told her it was the best place to view the stars.

It’s a breathtaking sight. The wind whips her hair around as she walks to the edge. The lively city sparkling below while the endless sky shines above. Beautiful. She sighs gazing at the sight of the silver moon and tapestry of stars.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here at this time,” Cassandra spins around, sighing in relief when she spotted Azriel, she hadn’t heard him come out at all.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep. I always loved looking at the stars,” She said, grateful Rhys had made it to where she could communicate—at least with the few people here.

Azriel gives her a lopsided smile that makes her heart stutter. “No need to apologize, that's why I’m out here too. The night sky has always been…soothing.”

She turns back to the ledge as he walks closer.

“You know, my father he was ashamed to have children with wings,” Cassandra said, as Azriel watched her from the side, her white hair shining in the moonlight—those green eyes glowing again. “He kept us locked away, and didn't want anyone to see us. My mother had her wings taken when she was a teenager. She said normally they just clipped them but her father was especially cruel and completely took hers away. Well, when my father was drunk enough or didn’t come home some evening my mother would bring us out and let us look at the stars, she taught us the constellations. And I got to see Starfall with her only one time before she died. It was…the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. After she died I never saw the stars again—not until the night you and Cassian took me away from that horrible place.”

Azriel did his best to simmer his anger, to clutch his shadows tightly that so badly wanted to reach out and comfort the female—to wipe away the glistening tears on her cheeks. She looks over at him then and he looks up at the sky so as not to reach out for her.

“Your mother seems like a lovely woman,” He says, hoping the opportunity to talk about her mother may make her feel better.

The smile that came over her face wasn’t what he was expecting. The way it lit up her face had his shadows singing in his ear. Beautiful. She’s beautiful.

She wiped her cheeks with one hand and nodded.

“She was amazing. She tried to protect us from him but she was just as afraid of him as we were. She didn’t know how to get out. But she took care of us. She was still young when she died—he says she died from taking some kind of herbs, that she took her own life. But I—I always believed he did it.” Azriel took in a shuttery breath.

“I’m sorry,” He said, struggling to find the words to comfort her.

“Me, too. I wish I could have protected her the way she protected me. But now she’s up there with the stars looking over us. Watching me, I think she would be happy I got out. I just hope I can help protect someone else the way I should have protected her.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from the ledge. “I think I’ll try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Azriel.”

Azriel watched her walk away. Night gown blowing in the wind, the beautiful broken girl disappearing into the shadows.

tag list: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94

#Cassandra my sweet girl #she’s trying her best #slow burn #slow burn but as you can tell Azriel’s catching the feels #I don’t want to rush things though baby Cassandra has a lot to process and heal from #I think it may be a he fell first she fell harder deal #Azriel’s gonna do everything in his power to protect her they’re gonna be best friends too #found family is the best trope btw #acotar #azriel #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction

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alexa-fika · 5 months

Note

Hear me out

Dragon!Child!reader is just casually flying along the seas visiting many islands and just vibing, Child got no concept of the government at ALL so whenever Reader wants to get some food she always remembers humans uses these gold coins and reader just coughs it out. BASICALLY UH Calm peaceful Dragon child flying and having fun while others are like

'IS THAT A FREAKIN DRAGON-'(⁠ʘ⁠ᗩ⁠ʘ⁠’⁠)

(okay I don't know where this is going now ಠ⁠∀⁠ಠ)

Wandering Dragon ( Whitebeard pirates x dragon!fem!child!reader x revolutionary army)

A/N: Here we go! I only did two crew’s, more like one and a half because I really wanted to give you guys something. I really love writing these hybrid!reader they are so fun.

Part 2 with The Whitebeard pirates

Dividers by @/saradika

“Where did she come from?” Dragon asks as he stares at the running child, her tail trailing behind her as she ran

“She flew into the ship a while ago, said she was exploring,” Ivankov answers as he watches the girl jump into Koala’s hands, laughing

“I’ve never seen something like her in all my years!” Koala grins at the child as she curls up on her shoulder

“Nor have I, I don’t ever remember seeing one of her kind in my life,” Sabo speaks up as he leans in closer to get a better look at the girl

She leans back from koala, wiggling out of her grasp and flapping her wings flying in front of Sabo

“Whoa there, aren’t you cute?” Sabo glances at the child with a slight smile on his face, reaching a hand out towards her

She furls up in a ball, beaming at his comment, still keeping herself up in the air, her cheeks tinted pink

“Thank you~.”

“You have scales on your cheeks… are you a dragon girl?” Sabo asks, still reaching his hand out carefully toward her

She unfurls herself, leaning into his touch and allowing him to feel the scales on her cheek

“Im Dragon Hybrid; I guess that makes me a dragon girl,” she says, thinking about it

“A dragon girl… that’s pretty incredible,” Sabo murmurs, smiling softly at the girl as he lightly runs a finger across her cheek

“Are you a Dragon Man? They called you Dragon. Are you a cool dragon? Can you breathe fire? Or are you a water dragon? Does your form like a serpent?” She rambles, flying in front of dragon excitedly

“She’s energetic,” Dragon says before sighing as he watches the child and rubbing his temples as he watches her buzz around

“I think she’s adorable,” Koala gushes with a grin on her face

“No. I am not a dragon; My name is Monkey D. Dragon.”

“Awe, no dragon? Nothing?”

“What do I look like a Dragon to you?” Dragon sighs, rubbing his hand down his face as he stares at Alexandra

“Hmmm,” she thinks as he circles him

“Yeah, kinda do.”

“Please tell me how I look like a dragon,” Dragon asks with a scoff in his tone

“You remind me of some of the grumpy dragons; they have that same scowl you have right now.”

“That is quite an interesting way to describe someone,” Dragon replies, shaking his head with a slight grin

“She is an interesting child, that’s for certain” Sabo speaks up, glancing at her curiously while she circles his captain

He grins as he calls her over

“Check this out,” he says, lighting his hand on fire

She awes at the sight

“Are you a dragon?”

“Just an ability granted to me by my devil fruit” He smiles, returning his hand to its original state

“The mera mera fruit! Somehow both me and my brother have it.” ” He continues, excited about demonstrating his abilities

She marbles at his numerous tricks and fire abilities that he keeps showing her

She frowns as nightfall falls; hours had gone quickly as she went from member to member with her usual antics

At one point even giving Ivancov a heart attack as they casually started coughing out golden coins when they had asked her how she bought food for herself.

“Is this not how you guys normally get these shiny things?” She had questioned, much to the shock and horror of some of the crewmates

“Aww, I have to get going now.”

“You’re going?” Koala looks at her disappointedly; she had enjoyed being around the child

“Mmhm, I have to keep going if I want to explore and meet more places and people. Im sure I‘ll see you again 'cause we're both moving around.”

“Well, I look forward to seeing you again then.”

“Goodbye, be careful on your travels, alright?” Sabo says with a soft smile before reaching out to gently ruffle her hair before she takes off

“And don’t get yourself into too much trouble!” Ivankov calls after the girl before turning to the others,

“Well, she was a pleasant surprise” he grins

“I didn’t expect a child to just wander into our ship,” Dragon chuckles while rubbing his head

Reader had now somehow found themselves aboard the Moby Dick, she was tired from her travels and needed to land, and the ship happened to be the closest.

She sneaked her way to the storage room so she could sleep the night away, and she did until she was interrupted when two of the ship's commanders descended into the storage room in search of more food to restock the kitchen. Ace accidentally knocks into one of the boxes, startling awake the dragon girl; he stares at her for a while as she stares back.

“Thatch, are you thinking what im thinking?”

“Yep, old pops is gonna throw a celebration when he hears we have got ourselves a kid on board.”

She stares at them for a second and smiles

Ace chuckles before leaning down in front of you.

"What's your name, kid?" he says, grinning.

“Im reader!” She replies, her wings flapping gently behind her

"Well, hey there, Reader. I'm Ace. And that's Thatch," he says, gesturing to the man standing next to him.

She grins and waves at them excitedly

Ace laughs and picks her up.

"What are you doing stowing away on our ship, anyway? It's not like you could even fit in these boxes. You know, most stowers usually just do it so that they can rob our ship. But the thing is, I don't see any weapons on you." Thatch comments, observing her

“Im not stowing away! Im exploring!” The pout,

“And I don’t need any weapons! I got these!” She says as she wacks her tail and wings and gently headbutts Ace with her horns

Ace laughs as she headbutts him.

"You're pretty feisty, huh? That's a good trait for a pirate. And you say you're not a stowaway or a robber, but you're definitely a bit of a troublemaker, aren't you?"

“Im not a Pirate either.”

Thatch chuckles, a bit confused.

"You're not a pirate? Well, what are you then? A marine? A merchant? Or even a traveler?" he asks.

“Umm, I ‘m Reader!”

"Well, okay then. And how old are you, Reader?" he asks.

“8!”

Ace laughs, looking at Thatch

"Eight? Now I really want to take her to Pops. Because I can already tell that he's gonna love you, kiddo." He says, glancing back at her

“Popsicle?”

They snicker

"Popsicle? No, no, no, no. Pops. Our captain. Whitebeard? He's probably gonna get a kick out of finding a stowaway as adorable as you." Thatch explains

“Not a stowaway!”

"Okay, okay, okay. Fine, fine. You're not a stowaway. You're just an adorable little kid who decided, at eight years old, to explore on her own. Not to mention, you just decided to explore the ship of the Whitebeard Pirates, of all places.”Ace says, fixing his previous statement for the small girl

She nods, pleased with his description

Sabo was so wholesome here 🥹, Also reader is a lowkey menace in this one lmao, let me know if I should continue this, add more to the whitebeard crew and/or add different crew’s as well.

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

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readychilledwine · 9 months

Text

Slow Hands

Azriel x Vanserra Oc

Azriel returns from a rough mission very sore. The typical ointments Madja uses aren't helping to relieve the tension, so the healer suggests Azriel goes to see Lyria, a pretty little healer who specializes in massage therapy.

Warnings - NSFW, but nothing is graphic. Accidental orgasm from a service. Some swearing. Unedited. Dearest minors, DNI.

Word count- 2,639

Random author's note - I just believe it should be cannon that the Vanserras give the best massages. They're literally fae heating pads/hot water bottles.

Part Two

Azriel walked beside Rhysand in silence as they made their way to the building Madja had asked Azriel to visit.

The two had not spoken since the incident with Elain, but he could tell Rhys, who had paused hand halfway up to knock on the door, wanted to tell him something.

Rhys cleared his throat. "Do you remember me coming home from the mountain and saying I decided to bring a new friend to Velaris?"

Azriel nodded, refusing to verbally break his silence to his brother, to which Rhys rolled his eyes. "This is her. She is Lucien's sister. Be. Kind. She is doing this for you as a favor to me."

Rhys knocked on the door before winnowing away, leaving Azriel standing there awkwardly. Shock set in as golden light flooded the streets. There, in the doorway, smiling gently was the mirror image of the Lady of Autumn, only shorter.

"You must be Azriel," he stared down at the pretty female, mouth going dry as he tried to figure out how to form words. "Come in. I'm Lyria, by the way." She smiled softly at him and continued walking.

Her home was warm, inviting, and comfortable. It smelled like lavender and something slightly medicinal Azriel could not place. "Rhys doesn't normally have his wings out when we do this." Azriel followed her, admiring her legs and ass in her tight leggings, as she directed him through her home. "Are you able to lay on your back?"

"I am." Azriel was studying her fully as they entered a room with a table centered in it and glass bottles lining a cabinet. Her red hair was pulled into braids and pins with a few pieces falling into loose curls. Her high cheekbones reminded Azriel very much of her mother, and her constellation of freckles lining her nose and cheeks were the only clear sign of her relation to Eris. Her golden sun kissed skin, though, that was Azriel's clear indication of who her father truly was.

All in all, he knew she was beautiful. Truly beautiful, and Azriel felt himself thinking of 100 other things he could do with her besides what Rhysand and Madja describe as a "back rub, but better."

He watched Lyria shift, clearly noting the way he was looking at her. "If you're comfortable, I just need you to take all of your clothing off and lay on that table. We will start with you on your back. Just put the towel where you want it for privacy. I can step out. Let me know when you're ready."

Azriel watched her walk out, eyes glued on her body. Rhys, the tone in his mind was slighly annoyed as he felt familiar claws enter his shields.

Azriel, A laughing purr answered back, Is she to your liking?

You're an asshole. A better warning would have been nice. Azriel slammed him out as he finished removing the leathers and siphons from his body before getting on the heated table. He sighed, shadows slowing down and stilling before opening the door and gently grabbing Lyria.

She moved silently through the room, fae lights dimming as she grabbed a few things. "Rhys said you'd prefer lotion over oil, is that accurate?" Azriel just nodded, a feeling of vulnerability sitting in.

He was naked in the presence of a female related to two males who absolutely hated him. A female who could wield fire as easily as breathing. His only comforts were the sign that she clearly thought nothing of his nakedness, and that his shadows had already told him she had no weapons in her home.

"I'm assuming they explained this to you? And let you know I'd be touching you a lot during this?" Azriel confirmed to her quietly they had. "If anything hurts, or makes you uncomfortable in any way, or you just do not like the way it feels, let me know right away. Is it okay if I start?" Consent. She wanted his consent to touch him. He nodded slowly and felt his shoulders instantly tense as she touched him.

Her hands were warm and so soft. Gently moving along the planes of his tight muscles in slow, long strokes. She was using enough pressure to map out areas of his body that were tighter than others but not being rough enough to hurt him. Azriel groaned as she found a knot near this collarbone. Her hands instantly began working in that area. "Does that feel okay?"

"It feels great." The room was filled with the sounds of water running softly, of animals in a forest. It even smelled like the Illyrian Mountains. The soft scent of magic, her magic, floated in the air as Lyria created an environment the High Lord had told her his spymaster would relax easiest in.

Azriel felt himself giving completely into her hands, melting in her touch, eyes closing. He groaned and moaned occasionally in appreciation and pleasure.

"There we go," she whispered softly. "Just relax. I'll take care of you." He felt his mind drifting as she worked down his arms, his torso, the fronts of his thighs.

Lyria was watching the Shadowsinger's little reactions to figure out where to focus, what areas she needed to work longer, and where the male held the most tension. She was also trying to ignore a growing aspect that had begun to pop up.

She worked her way back up to his shoulders, running her hands below his back, between his wings, causing another moan to leave his throat. This one, though, had her pausing. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she gently ran her hands from the spot they were in and up his neck. "I am so sorry."

Azriel chuckled slightly, eyes opening to look up at her. Her bottom lip had tucked between her teeth. She's nervous, his shadows began whispering to him. She was worried she had hurt him or he was feeling violated. "It's okay. They're sensitive, but that feels amazing."

"I can sto-"

"Please, do not stop."

Lyria nodded, her lip still tucked into her teeth. "You can roll onto your back if you'd like, and are um, able to." It was then that Azriel realized what she meant.

"Please tell me this happens all of the time?" His face was flushed as he threw an arm over it. "You have male clients, this happens all of the time right?"

Lyria was instantly giggling. The noise like soft bells in his ears making him smile and relax. "Of course. Rhys especially. Roll over. I want to use a different lotion on your back." Lyria turned away, grabbing a different glass bottle.

Azriel rolled over taking the time to admire her body again. Thinking of how pretty she'd look tied up in his shadows. She'd look pretty in any position, naked or dressed. He put his head down, trying to focus on relaxing and not his growing need to bend her over the nearest surface.

Lyria moved back to him, warming the lotion she had on her hands, "Are you okay with lotion getting in your hair? You carry a lot of tension here," Azriel shivered as she was near the lowest base of his wings. She was being careful not to touch them, but just the ghosting of her fingers near them was causing his touch starved body to react. It also didn't help that her voice was a siren spell, "through the upper part of your spine and into your scalp. I feel like I can work it all out, but I need to get the tension in your scalp out too, or you'll have headaches all the time."

"You can do whatever you want to me," Azriel felt himself tense back up at the response. He knew he meant it. He knew he'd allow his female to take what she wanted from him without hesitation.

"What a generous offer. You'll have to buy me dinner first." Lyria moved. Starting his massage again at his feet.

"Fuck," Azriel groaned. He heard her chuckle as she worked and he relaxed into her touch once more.

Discomfort hit him again as she began to work up his legs, easing the tension in his thighs. "Is this okay? You are really tight on your legs and hips." Azriel nodded at her question, groaning as she began working out knots in areas he would have never suspected. "Am I hurting you?" Gods no, he thought to himself. "Do you want me to talk to you to distract you?"

"Hearing your voice is making it worse." Azriel bit his lip to hold in a moan as she began to work the other side. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, smiling slightly. "Not hurting you then. You are fine, Azriel. Just relax. It's just your body reacting. It's normal."

His name rolling off her tongue made Azriel feel like his soul was lit on fire and an ache started in his chest. He began to imagine what she'd sound like with his head between her thighs, his hands squeezing her breasts, her legs wrapped around his waist as he buried himself so deep into her they became one.

Lyria continued her work, ignoring the growing scent of his arousal as the tension in his lower back released. She then made a rookie mistake, leaning across his back to grab her lotion bottle allowing her breasts to run along his body. She said nothing as his wings fluttered and he slightly shivered. She just continued her work.

Azriel was a piece of art, she had decided. His body reminded her of expertly carved marble. Hard muscled cuts from years of training, but they yielded so easily to her touch. Small twitches began to happen as she hit his mid back just below his wings.

Her eyes flicked to where he gripped the soft sheets of the bed as she pulled a heated blanket over his lower half. "Is it too warm?" She knew the scars on his hands all too well, she was hiding her own that danced along her back.

"No, just everything feels really good." His reply was soft, but raspy and deep. She smiled softly as she continued her work, gently going around the lower base of his wings without realizing the stimulation she was causing him.

Azriel was biting his fist under the table as pleasure shot straight to his cock. His body was so relaxed and everything felt intensified. He had been craving touch like this for years now. Soft, gentle, slow. She was taking her time on his back, working out every ounce of tension, every knotted muscle, every single drop of pain he had. His body hadn't felt this good in years, and he hadn't felt relief like this since his last trip to the brothel.

Her hands were heaven on his skin. They were warm and smooth, grazing him with her nails occasionally. She smelled like heaven, too. The soft scent of apples and salted caramel. He could drown in her scent alone if she allowed him to.

He felt the groan slip his throat as she moved to be in front of him and began to work between his wings. "Tell me if you want me to stop. I don't want to hurt you."

Azriel realized slowly he was drowning. This female was about to reduce him to a puddle with the touch of her hands and that alone. He pushed the feeling down. Doing her job, a shadow reminded him.

She worked in silence, noting his soft gasps, whimpers, and moans as she worked the center of his back and sides of both wings. She was finally at the base of his shoulder blades when Azriel's resolve dropped. His hands came to rest on the backs of her thighs, squeezing the plush skin there every so often as she worked the tops of where his wings connected in.

A rough grasp on her thighs as she accidently brushed the ridge of his wing had her gasping slightly, nails digging into his back, making him growl in pleasure. "I'm sorry," she whispered again and tried to back away, only to find herself locked by his large hands.

"That was my fault," he was smirking and pulled her closer. "Please keep going. I'll behave." Lyria bit her lip, her nervous tick he noted, nodding as she went back to work.

She was focusing on working the muscle tension near his wings. She was hoping he'd be able to ignore his pleasure, but as his breathing picked up, his wings twitched, and he moaned for her more, she knew. Lyria knew what was about to happen, but anytime her hands slowed, he gripped her thighs tighter as if begging her to continue.

He was on the edge at this point. He could feel a peak of pleasure within reach as she began working his shoulders and neck. Azriel was trying to hold it in as the pleasure built, but Lyria sealed his fate.

She did a single long stroke, starting between his wings, up his neck, and gently tugged his hair.

It was his undoing as he moaned out loudly, his grip on her thighs moving so he was cupping her ass and digging his fingers into her. His body was slightly shaking, as she scratched his head and played with his hair through his high.

Lyria had her lip between her teeth again. Trying to hide the feminine smile at her ability to bring one of the deadliest males in History to completion with no more than the touch of her hand.

She moved to sit next to Azriel, dropping his right arm over her thighs as she sat next to him, continuing to massage his scalp as he finished coming down, breathing coming back to normal. Once he turned his head to her, she just smiled.

"I know a few places in Autumn you could get help with that problem," she offered gently. "Eris runs a very clean, respectable one. They have males and females. All there by choice because they like to fuck."

Azriel chuckled. "That obvious, huh?" He looked at her. Enjoying the slight flush of her cheeks as her amber eyes met his hazel ones.

"I don't normally have people finish on my table, so we're going to chalk it up to you had a lot of tension to release." She paused, hand still playing with his hair before handing him a towel. "I noticed it building as I was working in your wing bases, but you didn't ask me to stop, and if I tried to, you squeezed my thighs to prevent me from moving. Rhys just said the wings themselves were sensitive. I didn't realize it was that whole area. I am sorry if I've made you feel violated."

He took the towel, cleaning himself and the table as she looked away. He tossed it into her nearby hamper and laid back down. A shadow grabbed her hair and placed it back into his hair.

"He probably did that on purpose. Fucking asshole. I owe you dinner," he finally said. "I'd like to do this again. Hopefully without that happening. I'm hoping that was a one time thing."

Lyria nodded. "We can do the same time next week with dinner beforehand?" He nodded at her, sitting up and studying her face again. "Also, I don't mind if that happens again." She was blushing and tucked her hair behind a delicately pointed ear. "Maybe in different circumstances though."

Azriel smirked, hand reaching to gently pull at her hair, "That could be rearranged."

#acotar x reader #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel acotar

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sepublic · 8 months

Text

Interesting that pop culture portrays Van Helsing as an experienced, seasoned vampire hunter, when it's pretty clear in the novel that this is his first go around with the whole thing, his first confirmation they actually exist, and in other words he's basically winging it and hasn't necessarily thrown a punch in his entire life (Which means he can’t just throw hands with Dracula, he needs research and backup to organize the perfect trap where they won’t be instantly killed). VH doesn’t always know what’s going on, he’s figuring things as he goes along; Like yeah he's HEARD of vampires, but it's never been anything prominent to him.

If anything, his past with vampires is probably similar to a lot of readers; Familiar with the concept, knows some of the details but not all of them, and definitely presumes them fake. He sees something going on with his patient and is like Haha damn that's just like a vampire, wouldn't it be crazy if... And then he slowly starts settling into conspiracy theory mode when more and more dots show up to conveniently connect, as he does the obligatory Protagonist Searching Stuff Up bit and realizes Mein Gott!!! It might be a vampire!!!

But then at the last second VH reminds himself, Now hold on, have I actually SEEN this vampire??? But it won't do anyone harm if I added some garlic flowers, right...? And then it just gradually escalates from there into full-on paranoia and dread that vampires exist and VH needs to desecrate the dead, and then he finally gets confirmation when he sees an Undead Lucy. What the fuck.

I think there's an argument to be made that Van Helsing was doubting himself just as much as Seward and the others initially did, if not more so, and he can’t even talk to anyone about it; So there’s an elation where you finally talk to others and realize it’s really happening, you’re not crazy.

This just ties into the theme of recording that which you did see, which is indisputable, because it’s evidence and proof. So you can be certain you aren't totally insane, and can distinguish facts from assumptions and theories if necessary; Especially when one needs to consider other explanations for the same symptoms. There’s a relief confirming what is and isn’t real to dispel self-doubt, like there was for Jonathan, who also suffered from Dracula’s gaslighting distorting his perception of reality.

I think all of this makes Van Helsing's actions and secrecy a lot more understandable when handling Lucy; If you hired a doctor and he suddenly started bringing up vampires, you might be inclined to think he's insane, doesn't know what he's talking about, and has read too many vampire stories and probably believes in 'alternative' medicine. Van Helsing still has an image and reputation to uphold here, and if it's gone, he can't actually be there to help Lucy if he turns out to be right.

That isn't to say he isn't without critique, especially in later portions of the novel, but you can kinda see where this underdog stance of "I'm right and the others around me are wrong" gets vindicated and thus develops into a bit of arrogance later down the line; Particularly, in presuming his disagreements with Mina to be no different than his secrecy with Seward and Mrs. Westenra.

In the end, VH could be described as a character who wonders if he's in the novel Dracula (compared to Jonathan who knows he's in a horror story of some kind but can't name the genre), but then has to remind himself this is reality... If this is a story, it’s probably just some medical drama. And when VH does accept he's in the novel Dracula, he assumes his character development and the lessons he learns are straightforward.

#dracula #dracula daily #van helsing

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

Text

Eddie x Fem! Reader

master list

w/c: 7k

A/N: this chapter is a little bit shorter than the last few but I hope you enjoy it regardless! huge s/o to @blueywrites + @jo-harrington for beta reading and helping me with parts ♥️

tw: 18+ no minors, depression, acts of depression, drinking excessively etc

Granules of brown sugar melt against heaping creamed rolled oats, nestled into the crisp white second hand vitrelle made Corelle brand bowls. The pattern of dainty brown flowers skim around the outer surface, one that Eddie is now rubbing softly with the pad of his thumb.

He had never noticed them before this very moment. The guitar string callouses skid along the cool surface of the bowl. The familiar feel reminded him of the soft skin on your back as he held you while you slept, strumming along your body to the tired tunes of your breathing.

A song he’d listen to forever if he could.

Eddie found himself noticing many new things he hadn't noticed before in the early daylight hours of the morning. He didn’t want to stir you, didn’t want to disrupt the beautiful sleepy angel next to him. Wrapping you tighter against him, pressing light kisses to your hairline, he soaked up the warmth of your skin against him. Drinking in your smooth breathing and matching it to his own.

Fluttering heart beating wildly in his own chest, he can’t believe you are here with him. Last night felt too good to be true. All these months of lonely pining, unsure if you felt the same, only for it to be true that you wanted him as much as he had wanted you.

He was elated, heart overflowing and spewing candy hearts from his eyes and mouth at the weight of your body tucked into him, fitting like a glove against the bend in his arm.

He was head over heels for you.

A wave of assurance washed over him when he woke this morning and found you curled in on yourself, the cotton sheets wrapped tight up under your chin, slack lips open and your eyelashes laid sweetly against your cheeks. A breath of relief leaves his muscles— you’re still here.

The rise and fall of your naked form when he pulled ypu into his side had him breathless upon first opening his eyes this morning. The sunlight basking through peaks in his bedroom curtains and providing enough light for the dust mites to dance their daylight waltz amongst the stuffy air and crowded surfaces in Eddie’s room.

Cotton sheets dipped into your curves. The smooth skin of your cheek pressed into his own chest. The steady whirring noise of your breathing in and out of your nose with your lips closed delicately.

Beautiful. Radiant. A thousand other adjectives he could use to describe you but there was only one he wanted to call you: his.

The toaster erupts with a metallic clunk, bringing him back from his day dreaming and focusing again at the task at hand.

Grabbing a knife from the silverware drawer, he smears cold butter against the warm toast, the knife scraping gently as the warm crusted pockets flood with butter and sweet grape jelly.

He finds himself daydreaming again. He pictures the corner of your lips coated in jelly, he’d reach forward and brush his finger against it, maybe his lips would kiss the crumbs away. You’d giggle at his stupidity and he’d melt like the butter into this toast at your warm smile.

You were perfect. Everything he had wanted and more. And years of being friends, then enemies, then roommates and now lovers. He was giddy, stomach filled with snowflake flurries resembling a winter storm.

He balanced the bowls of oatmeal in large hands, the toast cut in diagonals and stuffed like rabbit ears into the cooked oats. A pep in his step, he practically floated to his room, back to you, snug in his sheets, his pillows. He’s carried by the wings of the butterflies in his stomach.

A tickle on your cheek has your eyelids fluttering slow, the cool feel of unfamiliar sheets twisted by your chin have you jumping in your skin, but the warm velvet voice in your ear whispering good morning greetings and a peck against your ear tames your heart and softens the goosebumps on your skin.

The same calloused palms that held you in a protective manner last night now gently stroke the underside of your chin in a lazy pattern. Up the rounds of your cheeks, and circling the plump of your lips. Eddie’s hands are unusually warm against your skin, the heat from the bowls hot on his palms.

The mattress bends beneath his weight as he sits with one leg on the bed and leans on a hip over you. The bourbon colored ends of his curls sweep feather-like against your bare chest, like the white tufty pappus of a dandelion head.

You titter softly when his lips slide down your neck and blow a softened raspberry against your skin.

“Good morning, baby,” he sighs beneath your ear. The pearls of his teeth graze your neck because he can’t stop smiling. The silk of your hands wrap around his arms, fingers gliding over the carve of his muscles. And your eyes finally flutter open.

A halo of sunlight breaches his frizzy curls and pull every bit of amber from them, his smile cozy and familiar the warmth seeping through you as his blackened honey eyes drink you in.

His eyes trail your sleepy features, caressing your skin with each slow drag across your face. Taking in every inch of you he can.

“Sleep okay?” he purrs gently, planting a rose petal kiss on your lips.

Last night was perfect, everything you had hoped for and more.

You didn’t know sex could be so intimate, so passionate. Feeling how much he cared about you with every kiss, every touch of his molten fingers on your skin. He gave you the love and adoration you had yearned for. And it felt good.

So, so good.

Something that delicious should be enjoyed again and again. An indulgence, a finger swiping into the edge of a frosted cake for temptation deemed too strong. But unlike the taste of frosting melting away on your tongue, craving more and wanting another taste, you couldn’t.

Peering into his eyes, you can see how much he loved you. But the feeling sat sour on your tongue, and burned your belly in a lonely way.

But why?

You could push through this right?

Didn’t you want this?

Want him?

Heart hammering for Eddie, all green flags and sticky love, kicking feet and giddy heated cheeks, but your brain was screaming another sound, ringing bells of unworthiness loud in your ears.

You don’t deserve him.

His love won’t last.

A quick smile that doesn’t reach your eyes implants on your lips. Insecurity is evident among them when the twinkle of love is replaced by dark brooding agony. And if Eddie sees it he is blinded to it. So wrapped up in bubbly love for you he thought you hung the stars.

The way his brown eyes are gazing at you hurts your heart. Before hot tears can fall down your cheeks you blink rapidly. Wells of salt stinging in your eyes as you swallow them down.

Answering his question in a hushed almost whisper, you push yourself up on his mattress, clutching the sheet around your chest, suddenly aware of how naked you are. Bare beneath the sheets a once welcomed coziness now feels like shards of glass embedded into your skin.

Your knees tuck up beneath your chest, in a small attempt to shield yourself more from the man you wanted to love but couldn’t.

Eddie is all adoring dimples and pinked cheeks. His voice is laced with flowing sweet words of pleasantries. He places a pillow behind your back, so you can be comfy,.

The act cracking your heart deeper waiting to be split like the thin shell on a peanut m&m.

“I didn’t ask, but do you like oatmeal?”

You’ve never known a single smile burrowing into your soul deeper than his does. But it aches and burns. Nose tingling bringing up another wave of tears, you simply nod, you wipe your eyes hastily with the back of your hand as Eddie turns and grabs the bowls. Oblivious to your turmoil.

He brings the warm bowl of oatmeal to the bed and places it in your hands. Jelly having slid down the toast and snuggling with the brown sugar and oatmeal. Joining you on the bed Eddie sits beside you, his long legs stretched out in front of him as you sit shoulder to shoulder.

You don’t deserve him.

His love won’t last.

Lead filled arms hold the metal spoon to your lips, a warmth in your mouth that has no taste. For you are not hungry. The beast inside spreading its ferocious wings and sucking any amount of joy from you.

But he said he loved me.

He doesn’t. Don’t fool yourself.

Staring ahead you are trapped in your mind. A hostage to your demons. The sunshine of happiness is replaced with heavy thunderstorm clouds of acidic rain, eating away your insides like maggots on a carcass.

Eddie is talking between mouthfuls of his breakfast but you don’t hear him. The words unable to make sense against your ears as you stir your spoon around and around the bowl. A hypnotizing motion.

Unaware of the state you are in, Eddie is floating high on cloud nine. A pinky cheeked cherub shooting arrows of lust below him. He’s giddy and cheerful, a light of beckoning hope next to your brooding steel trapped mind.

He’s too good for you.

The voices shout louder in your ears and you fight tears away.

Just another notch on his belt, silly Tooty.

Run, before he does.

“Sweetheart?” your breathing is erratic and complacent. Sweat is trickling down your hairline. Wet beads in the space behind your ears and forming on your upper lip.

Run.

Choking down the bile of panic cradled in your throat, you croak a smile. “Sorry, what?”

The rest of breakfast is void of noise besides the ominous clinking of spoons against bowls and the gulping slide of oatmeal down Eddie’s throat. Chewing your toast to humor him you still taste nothing, barely registering your teeth are grinding together against themselves until Eddie asks if you’re alright.

Fine, you lie, easy on your tongue, the forced smile is harder, painful. Settling an unease in your bones that creaks and groans like a worn porch door batting against the frame in a windstorm.

Pulling hard to untuck the sheet from the one corner of Eddie’s bed that didn’t manage to come undone during the passion of last night, you wrap it around you fully, and scoot down the length of his mattress. The walk of shame gown held tight in your grip. Doubling as a shield of comfort around you, a flannel sheet of armor.

Not announcing where you are going in fear of breaking, you scamper from the room, quick feet on the carpet and shivering in the cool air on your shoulders. Eddie’s hot desperate eyes burrowing into your back as you lock the bathroom door.

He’s everywhere in this house, and your mind is suffocating. Lungs punched of any oxygen as you struggle to stand using the knob as a crutch.

What makes you think you’re deserving of his kindness?

The daunting demonic voice laughs mercilessly in your head, bouncing off the pinked brain matter and echoing lol against the hollow marble of your skull, scribbling along it in permanent marker.

Unworthy

Undeserving

Hot tears stream down your cheeks and you shed the cloak of flannel armor, reaching for the silver knob of the shower and turning it to the hottest temperature the small water heater will allow.

The stream of the scalding water sears your back like steak in a skillet, you welcome the burn with open arms.

Thinking of Eddie’s doting and how sweet he was to you made your stomach splinter. All he was doing was exactly what you had hoped for, wished for, stayed up long nights aching for.

But it wasn’t simple.

You were terrified. Scared shitless of his love for you. But you knew Eddie and you knew he loved big, and cared in ways that most people couldn't fathom.

Hot water rolls down the front of your shoulders and flows over your softened nipples, mixed with salty tears.

The tears only stop when there’s a soft knuckled bang on the door.

His endearing voice is small against the closed door, “hey babe?”

You don’t answer. Unable to free your mind from the double hell of feeling inadequate and petrifying anxiety of being loved by someone you can’t love back.

But you do love him.

You always have in one way or another.. even when you shouldn’t have. You did.

But the overwhelming feeling of his affection is too much, you don’t know how to feel, or act. Not as if Chad ever made you feel loved. Somehow the feeling of being loved is almost the same crushing feeling of being choked out.

Because you’re not good enough.

You don’t deserve him.

The bathroom door opens and Eddie’s calm voice breaks through the void. Makes its way through the silent sobs that are causing your body to shake violently.

His shadow is blurred against the shower curtain. Coy hands peel the cream plastic and blue fabric away slightly, opening the threshold to the shower and the steam rolling out, thick in his vision.

“Tooty?”

Back to first names.

Back to the basics.

Eddie wasn’t an idiot. He knew something was wrong. And he had spent the last ten minutes walking back and forth along the carpet, wracking his brain. Pulling his hair in frustration when tears stung his eyes and collected like puddles in his lashes.

Trying to figure out the solution to a problem he didn’t have the equation for.

No one did.

This was a fight within yourself, solving for x when Eddie barely passed basic algebra. Nobody could fix this.

Broken goods, sold at a discount and marked down.

Trash.

When you don’t answer he says your name a smidge louder. Reaching his fingers out to touch your shoulder and almost breaking on the spot when you coil away from him.

His touch once so protective and undeniably reassuring in your blood now threatens to make you react with bared teeth and steel eyes.

But you refrain, pushing yourself further away from him. Deeper into your sorrows of a life of despair, a valley of dread.

Relentless, Eddie won’t give up easy. His voice is meek and breaking with each cold shoulder of avoidance you offer.

You’re nothing.

“Baby,” he pleads, a tear running down his cheek, collecting in the column of his throat. “Talk to me.”

His cheeks return to normal color, his eyes don’t dance with twinkles, the corners of his mouth turn flat. He's beside himself.

The voices deepens now, roaring loudly like a river. A familiar tone. One that has terrified you for almost a decade, Chad.

You think someone could love you like me? Better than me?

Take it, fucking whore.

Yeah, cry for me.

“No.”

Eddie’s brows turn inward. Concern painting his face. “Tooty?”

Who would want you?

You’re nothing.

A hand on your shoulder makes your spine twinge with icy cold resentment causing you to flinch unexpectedly, shivering away from him. A wounded animal, protecting yourself.

“I said, no!”

When you turn to face him you are met with wet eyes, and the saddest expression you’d ever had the displeasure of seeing.

One that would bury itself in your mind and haunt you at night. More horrifying than a scary movie because it was real, right before your eyes.

Eddie doesn’t give you time to think before he twists his mouth into a question, “what’s going on? What did I do?”

This is not a conversation you want to have. You can’t.

Plain and simple.

“Leave me alone,” you beg, salt in the skinned wound. You turn the water off and shove past him, your warm wet skin sliding against his dry bare chest.

Unlovable

Undeserving Tooty.

The terry fibers of your robe cocoon you in a hug. And you’re reminded of the memories this fabric holds. The first night Eddie had moved in, and him wearing it with pride.

The night he defended you against the twins, when you were piss drink and he wrapped you up tightly to cover you up.

He was a good man.

And you were a bitch.

An unlovable shrewd, forcing someone to open up and then cutting them off because you couldn’t handle the thought of someone loving you when you couldn’t love yourself.

You deserved what Chad did to you.

Eddie is talking a million miles an hour trying to explain himself as you leave him in the bathroom. His throat aches from swallowing back tears and his heart is breaking.

Turning in a swift jerk of your head you face him when he begs you to look at him.

“Please, goddamnit please just talk to me. Help me understand what I did wrong!”

“There’s nothing to understand Eddie! We fucked! So what? No big deal.” It was the biggest lie you’d told yourself. It was a big deal. It meant everything to you, but you couldn’t do this.

He’s stunned, mouth hung open and his pink bottom lip starts to quiver. The same lips that kissed you so delicately and made you cum so hard it was like the Fourth of July behind your eyelids.

Not having any of it, his sadness turns to anger on the drop of a dime, his shaky lip flipped to a snarl, “Don’t you dare do this, don’t you dare turn this around as just some one night stand bullshit.” His eyes search your face for any tell on a sick joke. But he knows you better than that.

He can’t contain the fueling rage inside of him and he almost shouts in your face. “I know what it meant to you!”

“Really?” you voice in a shaky tone, crossing your arms across your chest in a manner that suggests you couldn’t give a single fuck about his feelings, but barely below the surface you were screaming for help. “If you got all the answers then enlighten me.”

His voice is softer, gentler. He timidly reaches out to hold your clothed shoulders, the tips of his fingertips grip them softly, thumbs rubbing small circles. Hoping his touch could bring you back to him, bring back the angel from his dreams and coax you out from this hellish nightmare he had fallen into.

“Don’t act like this baby, please.”

Your head hangs in defeat and you’re ready to give up. A sigh escapes you and he lifts your chin with a ringed finger. He licks his lips and he says the three words you couldn’t hear.

The three small words that confirmed the anxiety in your chest and made your heart crumble. And it kills you.

It kills you to hear the words come from the man you’ve been yearning for.

It kills you to know you won’t ever be able to say them back to him. Even though you’re dying to.

And it kills you to know you don’t deserve to hear those words from him.

His fingers feel like talons against your shoulders and you're caught in his grasp. A hawk swooping to catch a field mouse. You can practically feel the blood pouring from your skin by his nails through the robe. The sharpness squeezing your lungs and attacking your mind.

And like a bullet from a gun, you fire back. With hateful words and a dead tone, fire lit behind your pupils and your caged self inside of them begging to be let out. Begging to be let free and loved by Eddie. Slapping his hands away from you, you pull away from him, your back hitting the wall with a thud, the same wall you leaned on last night when he kissed you for the first time.

The word is final. And so full of venom it feels like poison on your lips.

“Don’t.”

Wounded like an animal he defends himself. His slapped hands are red and stinging as he hangs them limply at his side. He shakes his head and his lips glow with how hard he’s pressing them together.

“Tell me I don’t mean anything to you,” he yells, hurt and unable to contain his building desperate pleas to win you back, “Go ahead! Use your words Tooty. Tell me last night meant nothing to you.”

He’s a fiend for your poisoned drug and you are his dealer, giving him what he wants, directly to his vein of choice. The veil of hatred falling in your vision and coating your stone still features. A single tear welled into your eyes. Falling the exact time you tell him words you knew weren’t at all true.

“It meant nothing to me.”

He chuckles in a hurt tone trying desperately to hide his own tears, a sick smirk of dismay is displayed on his quivering lips. And he’s fighting like hell to stay standing on two feet.

“So now what? Huh?” His voice breaks and he clears his throat, hands on his hips and looking towards the popcorn ceiling, desperately blinking tears back, and once they’re hiding again he nods his head forward, one last attempt to have you break with him. To admit you were lying to yourself.

Crossing his arms he’s trying not to shake with fury and grief. Through gritted teeth he misters up enough courage to ask you something he doesn’t wanna hear the answer to.

“Tell me what you want since you’re so big and brave. Don’t be a coward now sweetheart, tell me what you want.”

You almost vomit on the spot. But choke it down long enough to spill the last lie from your pretty lips.

The nail in the coffin. The big finale.

“I want… you to leave.”

—

JANUARY

It took three hours and all the boys from Corroded Coffin to help Eddie move his things out. He took a few days off from work to get his affairs in order. Filling out the proper paperwork to change his address back to the light blue trailer in Forest Hills for the time being.

You weren’t home when it happened. He had made sure of it.

When you closed your eyes at night you could still hear slam of metal connecting to metal when he slammed his van door and the crunch of ice and snow beneath his van tires as he sped away.

You didn’t cry anymore when Metallica played on the radio. And nobody but you knew that every glass you had owned had been shattered against the front door when you came home to his empty room.

A reality that had your eyes swollen for days.

It took you two weeks to see the envelope on the table. A scrawl of shitty handwriting with your name on it.

Tucked inside the pristine white envelope was more than twenty $100 bills, fresh from the bank. And a small note:

“If you need more let me know,

take care of yourself - Eddie

That night you wept. Clutching onto the handmade shirt Eddie had given you, the night before the concert. The only thing remnant of him living in the house. Not counting the newer jar of pickles in the fridge, like the last— the lid was missing.

Hot tears slid out of your eyes faster than a tub draining. A call to Robin is broken with blubbering hysterics and honking noises of your nose being blown into a wadded Kleenex, and in ten minutes time—she manages to drop everything to come and look after you.

Countless hours slip by of her rubbing your back and even crying along with you, she swore Eddie and you were meant to be. Her words were blankets of comfort on you as she tried her best not to bring him up.

She had promised both Steve and Eddie to not tell you where he was staying, for your own good.

And like the kind hearted friend she was, Robin stayed for a few days. Taking off work and cooking meals for you even though you refused to eat.

On the third day of not eating and refusing to leave your bed, she put a call in to Steve. He was hands on his hips disappointed in you. Lecturing you about how your actions hurt people and how you couldn’t be a brat forever. He threatened to dial the Wheeler’s to have Karen step in.

But you wouldn’t budge.

When Nancy had shown up on a Wednesday morning, she immediately went to work. Making a schedule for you to follow, and taking absolutely no bullshit when you told her you were a grown woman and could deal with things on your own.

When she blacked out Eddie’s name from the calendar, silent tears fell down your cheeks.

Seeing his name brought you both solace and pain. A reminder that you had done this yourself. That he wasn’t coming back. And it was because of you.

You moved with the motions of each day.

Shower

Brushing your teeth

Eating breakfast

Getting ready for work

Going to work

Eating lunch

Working

Driving home

Eating supper

Brush teeth

Bedtime

You sat in silence when you weren’t at work. Finding little to no enjoyment in anything anymore. Avoiding everyone’s calls. Staring at the 4 walls in your bedroom like a prison cell. Eddie’s stupid jar of pickles tucked snuggly between your crossed legs, your supper for weeks now.

The only thing on your mind was him. He stuck with you in everything you did. He was everywhere. You even started drinking orange juice from the jug just like he did.

His laugh. The small giggly one he’d had since boyhood and the deep belly laugh he’d generate when you would roll your eyes at him, all of his teeth showing.

His smile seemed to stretch across the Milky Way. Wide and pearly, ear to ear. His cheeks prickled with deep dimples. Somehow getting cuter with age.

The darkest eyes full of mischief and wonderment. You could get lost in the Wonka chocolate river pooling in his eyes. Changing with his emotions like a mood ring, they gave him away.

—

Corroded Coffin hadn’t played a gig since A Merry Corroded Christmas. Hard to play a show when the lead singer couldn’t pull it together during practices or remember to show up to them.

Steve had stayed up with Eddie the first few nights, talking him off the edge of a violent end he didn’t see a way out of.

He wouldn’t allow himself to forget that night. The passion was cosmic. And he knew you felt it too. Whether or not you would admit you were lying to yourself didn’t interest him.

He was used to rejection.

Used to feeling like he was nothing.

What was breaking him was the ghost of you in his arms. Your sleeping body haunted his dreams, made the demons escape from hell and flood his vision.

When he woke and you weren’t there the pain surfaced tenfold. And no amount of whiskey or Rick’s finest trees would fix it.

The cycle never ending

He cared about you more than he cared about himself.

The day you asked him to leave was a blur. He woke up at Gareth’s apartment a day later, no recollection of how he had gotten there.

Your words etched into his skin like a tattoo.

I want you to leave.

FEBRUARY

Still Loving You by Scorpions is playing on repeat between Nothing Else Matters by Metallica again in the guest house behind the lavish empty pool of Steve Harrington’s new home on Cornwalis St.

Thirty some odd days had passed and Eddie Munson was nowhere near the man he used to be.

Where his skin was once smooth shaven was now replaced by a prickly sparse beard. His once sparkling chocolate eyes were now dull and almost ashen. Dark circles rim his eyes from lack of sleep and poor nutrition, a diet of Marlboros, whiskey and pretzels giving him enough energy to work and come back to the same space he had called home for a few months.

Throwing himself into working long hours at Boom’s he slept very little at night. When he did close his eyes he’d be jarred awake by a nightmare, one he hasn’t had since he was a kid. And he’d lay awake for hours replaying the same day over and over again in his mind.

Each time ending the same way.

Shreds of notebook papers cluttered the floor, each littered with blue and black ink, all different but entirely the same subject: you.

Poems, songs, haikus and even a poorly written sonnet he had attempted while drunk at 2 AM sitting in a lounge chair he had drug out from the pool shed to sit along the edge of the frozen pool cover.

His hair hadn’t been brushed in weeks. Leighanne offered to help comb out the tangles and mats but the burden was too much for him to handle. He denied her kindness, brushing it off with mumbled ‘m fine ’s and don’t worry ‘bout me ’s.

But in reality the thought of another woman’s hands in his hair only made the tears fall harder.

When Eddie first moved in, Steve and Robin were still in the apartment, and Eddie’s things were moved to a storage unit across town.

When the lease was up at the end of January, Robin moved into Vicky’s apartment over Surfer Boy Pizza and Steve purchased a house, along with an expensive diamond ring he would be anticipating on giving to an eager Leighanne, holding off until her birthday for the right time to pop the question.

The Harrington/Buckley apartment was then subleased to Eddie. A sublease that didn’t last more than a week before he was booted out by the landlord for destruction of property when he accidentally started a fire in the kitchen.

He was only trying to replicate your lasagna.

Steve graciously invited Eddie to move in. and Eddie kept to himself for the most part. And on nights when sad music was blaring from the small guest house, Steve knew better than to ask if his friend wanted to play cards or kick back with a few beers.

-T-

January came and went and close to the end of February Josie told you she was cutting everyone’s hours, the salon would no longer be open on the weekends. The envelope Eddie had left for you was thrown into your night stand and you refused to use any of it.

No one in town was hiring for another hairdresser so you opted to driving fifteen miles out of town to find another job.

The job you had gotten was bartending at a rundown shithole bar worse than the Hideout. But the tips were good and your boss was sweet. A pot belly old farmer who only played country classics and served warm beer and peanuts, the shells making curved mountains on the filthy splintered wood floor.

It was refreshing to get out of Hawkins, but most importantly, it was the best chance you had at not running into someone who looked like him.

Your body started to ache at all times, tender in places that never hurt before. Exhaustion thick on your features

Months had passed and you hadn’t seen your friends. Nancy would call every now and then and check in. Jonathan and her were seeing a couples therapist for intimacy issues. She said Mike was hinting at proposing soon to El.

Eddie’s shadow lingered on your skin and you swore you could feel his breath in your ear. Whispering how he loved you.

Some days were better than others, but most days you would get so worked up you would vomit from the pain. Betrayal splayed in your guts. Your mind was working against you.

His teary eyes and hurt expression were all you saw when you closed your eyes. And every night you cried yourself to sleep, cocooned into a pile of too many blankets, dreaming that Eddie was holding you tight against his chest, never leaving…never letting you go.

MARCH

Eddie worked more than twelve hours a day, acting as two full time mechanics with how hard he was throwing himself into projects. Boom, although grateful for Eddie’s help and go-getter attitude, worried about him. Especially when he noticed the other two knot head mechanics he couldn’t afford to fire, helping themselves into his office flipping through personnel files.

“Sean told me he makes more money than me! I was just checking to see how much more you think he’s worth!

Aaron chuckled when Boom tossed him out of the office by his collar.

A secret motive snug on his Copenhagen smile. The Information he was seeking: found and a reward would be granted for his loyalty to a long time friend.

…

“… alright fine, I guess pineapple is pretty good on pizza.”

“Told ya, Harrington, ” licking his lips, Eddie reached into the cardboard box and grabs another slice, the melting cheese stretching for what seemed like miles, “I know good pizza.”

Steve rolls his eyes, taking it easy on his friend who finally is looking like his normal self again after two months of becoming almost unrecognizable.

The sad music didn’t play anymore. And his fingers didn’t bleed from writing songs about you.

He was accepting what happened. Still sad, a little depressed but moving forward with his life.

The date was approaching, Steve knew it and so did Eddie, neither wanted to talk about what he was going to do yet but Steve held his tongue for far too long.

“so.. that Metallica concert is coming up… you still g—”

Before Steve could finish muttering, Eddie was already finishing his sentence, chewing along with his explanation. His fingers twirl the rings on his other hand. A nervous fit settling in his stomach.

“—already sold ‘em. Gonna drop the money I got for them in her mailbox tonight.”

Steve shifts uncomfortably in his chair, threading fingers through his coiffed hair. “So that’s it huh?”

“So what’s it?” Eddie questioned, nonchalantly standing suddenly from the table with a scratch of the chair's legs against the tiled floor. Throwing his paper plate and napkin away, he stops at the trash can. Doubling back he almost cracks under the scrutiny of Steve’s eyes.

“Steve, she doesn’t wanna be with me, we’ve been over this. I fucked up, came on too strong.”

“I’m sorry man,” Steve apologizes, a drag of his large hands down his face. “I really thought she felt the same way—,” he huffs out a breath, “fuck, we all did!”

A shake of Eddie’s curls silences Steve’s words, the whirring noise in his ears, “I’m fine man, really. I’m gonna keep doing what we said we would all those years ago.”

Walking towards the front door and stomping louder than he should have, Eddie thrusts his arms into his leather jacket, the silk inside cozy along his faded cotton shirt.

His keys are hanging on the little hook by the door, Steve’s decorator thinking of every detail, he lets the brass teeth dig into his palm.

“Even if she hates me Steve,” one hand on the silver doorknob, rings clicking against it in his tight grip, he turns his head and looks into pitiful moss colored eyes, as he delivers the only truth he’s ever known, “I still love her.”

Slamming home the driver’s door to the van and turning his key into the ignition, Skid Row’s I Remember You plays gently through the speakers. Eddie hums along and pats his thumbs against the steering wheel.

It was true he was doing better.

His hair was combed through after using copious amounts of the cheapest conditioner Melvald’s had to offer. And he didn’t need the whiskey anymore to make it through the day.

He yearned to see your face.

Even if it was a glare his way or a raised eyebrow at something stupid he had to say, he’d do just about anything to see it.

Would you be smiling?

Were you happy without him?

He hoped you were doing well, and maybe would want to be friends again.

Turning onto Cherry Lane is pure nostalgia. It had only been a few months but everything looked the same. He felt different and maybe expected everything else to change along with him.

And there it was. Your house.

The house he had lived in, learned life skills he should have learned years ago, and most importantly shared the deepest love he’d ever felt with someone in his life.

The windows were dark, except for a small light in the kitchen, a candle he assumed. The smell of vanilla warmed his nose as he thought of the familiar scent you had kept burning.

The driveway held your car and another he didn’t recognize. By first glance he thought maybe it could be Nancy. But she had just brought her old station wagon into Boom’s last week for a tire rotation.

The license plates on the fancy BMW were not from Hawkins, housing the wrong number for the county on the Indiana plates.

His ears heated with jealousy. Throat closing tight trying to hide a choked sob.

How could you have moved on from him so quickly? The thought of you hooking up with someone while he was practically a dead man walking made him weak in the knees.

A punch to the gut. He had never felt so low in all of his life.

He couldn’t help himself when he jumped out of the van. Foregoing slamming the door. Stomping on cold concrete with shaky legs all the way to the front door. He fumed as he blinked back tears.

He was prepared to make an ass out of himself. He’d announce himself the same way he had when he opened the door the day he has moved in all those months ago.

A loud boisterous, HONEY, I’M HOME

With knuckles raised and his heart hammering in his chest like a bee trapped in a tin can, he was ready to knock.

Ready to see your shocked face with some faceless guy probably with a better job and stupid suits when Eddie’s wild hair and goofy grin was on the other side of the door.

But he is stopped short when a muffled shrill scream vibrates off the walls and finds his ears.

see you in volume 12

🐑 (sacrificial for readmore)

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

Note

AITA for entertaining a friendship with a child?

okay so this might be a weird one or even a controversial one i honestly have zero clue how other people will receive this, apologies in advance if i ramble!

to begin, i (23ftm) and this kid (15f) first met about a year ago. one of my best friends (23m) is a pretty big model and tiktoker and she was a fan of his, and she was pretty recognized online for making cool edits and stuff of him and coming to meetups etcetera, so he knew of her from there, and over time with always seeing each other at meet ups and her being in his discord server (where i mod) she kind of became pretty well known to us.

an important thing to note is that she's SUPER neurodivergent and she's had a really tough life. she lost her older brother a few years back and she's (i'm not sure of the correct way to put it, her family is originally from the netherlands and their english is kind of in the works so this is how they put it) developmentally behind a few years - her parents describe this as her being "mentally more 13 than 15" but her behaviour to me is even younger than that. she's very very innocent and trusting, very overemotional and sensitive to criticism etc, loves stuffed animals and pink and cartoons and all of that. she's told me she feels like a little kid sometimes and will talk/act like one so maybe there's an element of trauma-rooted age regression there, i'm not super sure - i'm not gonna get into detail but she's talked to me about her life a lot and she's had some pretty fucked up shit happen to her.

from the beginning she pretty much imprinted on me - she's told me before i remind her of the big brother she lost, and ever since then she's called me her "big brother" and "family" etc. at first i was more just playing along with it to make her happy but over time she really has become something like a little sister to me, i feel super protective of her. i want to become a teacher after college (not to mention eventually a parent with my fiancee) so i think at least part of it is that taking a kid 'under my wing' so to speak is giving me experience with it all. i've always been kinda paternal/protective over kids in general but i was the youngest sibling in my family so i never really had anyone to utilise that on before

she does rely super heavily on me emotionally, especially because after i found out she was being bullied pretty badly at school i started dropping by to keep her company during breaks/lunch and making sure shit was okay (which her still-living brother used to do, but he's a famous?? - unsure How famous, i don't know sports at all - footballer/soccer player who's often in another country and can't see her often anymore), and i've been working with her to curb that. i'm actually currently working with her parents to find her a good therapist and support system. she's no longer in the tiktok friend's discord just because it was getting a little all-consuming for her and we encouraged her to take a break, but she's done a TON of work on herself and maturing since then and she does plan to rejoin at some point soon.

however, i find it really really hard to gauge whether being so close with a child is... like normal? or not. i honestly can't tell if it's kind of the internet caution about adults talking to minors kind of warping my brain and making me overly wary of what people will think or if i'm doing something wrong or if it's genuinely like a weird situation, so i guess i'm looking for outside perspectives.

the things that make me question it is that like i said she's very 'mentally young', she's very sheltered, and there definitely seems to be an element of her kind of replacing the older brother figure she lost with me. on top of that, we met through her being a fan of my friend, and though she's now separate from that i worry there could still be an element of power there because i'm close with the guy she calls her idol. her family knows me and seem totally chill with everything, but they've told me she tells people at her school that i'm literally her brother and basically 100% talks about me as if i'm her biological family, which i find super sweet but at the same time wonder if it's healthy.

she obviously needs therapy and hopefully soon we can get her it, but: AITA for entertaining a sort of found family dynamic / friendship at all with someone very vulnerable and young or is this genuinely helpful for her?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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callmerainman · 3 months

Text

Never Again | sinner!Adam x fem!sinner!Reader

PART 1 | PART 3

plot. You and Adam ended up sleeping together. Despite you two swearing that you would never have sex with each other, here you are in the same bed, incredulous. Shit like this happens, but you and Adam agree on never doing it again. Right?

word count. 2.2 k

tags. enemies to lovers, suggestive themes, mentions of sex, implied sexual content, making out, swearing, implied rough sex, Adam being nice, friends with benefits, Reader is a Royal Guard, Reader has wings

warnings! this fic is meant for adults, sex is not described in deep detail but mentions are heavy. please minors DNI!

"Fffuck" he says.

“Yeah, fuck”

So, you and Adam, the First Man you swore to guard to protect the Hotel, had sex.

You tighten a hand around the white sheets, pulled up to cover your bare chest. Your mouth is pressed in a straight line and your eyes are wide open, unable to blink. Black and (f/c) feathers are scattered all over the mattress, along with various articles of clothing. For a split second you look up and see that your bra landed high up on a chandelier in the middle of the room. A couple of pillows caught fire and were currently still smoking. Adam is laying on his back next to you, with the very same incredulous expression on his face. One hand is resting on his stomach, the other is outstretched over his head. A bare and hairy leg peeks out from under the covers. And the bed collapsed, by the way. It’s hard to decide where to look at, so you opt for the ceiling. Your cheeks still feel hot, your whole body too, it’s like you’ll never cool down. Even if it was exhausting. Perhaps the most marathon-level sex you ever had. And messy. And also…

“Okay” Adam begins “I know we never got along on anything but can we agree that this was-“

“The best sex we ever had?” you interrupt.

“Exactly”

Words couldn’t form in your mouth even if your life depended on it, so you just nod frantically. The very fact that not even Adam was able to produce a sentence is astounding. Usually he had the opposite problem. So you two just lay here, completely naked. Minutes later, which felt like hours, Adam talks again.

“And it means a lot from me, I had sex for billions of years”

“I like you more when you shut the fuck up”

“Okay got it”

You take some more minutes to recollect yourselves, your minds still foggy from the afterglow and dizzy. Your mouth, which was busy with Adam’s not so long ago, is painfully dry. You definitely need to rehydrate. You hear the sound of covers rustling, Adam finally moved. He rolls on his side, propping his head up with a bended arm. He’s trying so hard to look nonchalant.

“Just so you know, this was a one time thing, right? I still can’t stand the fuck out of your attitude”.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. You twist on your side too, facing the First Man. Still holding the covers up to not let him have another glimpse of your chest, with which he had his fun, you reciprocate his gaze.

“Of course, the fuck did you expect?”

Adam snorts, looking away “Nothing at all, things like this happen all the time. We just got a little carried away”

“Another thing we agree on, I guess…”

You both roll back to face the ceiling, your breaths steady and eyes closed. A crackling sound makes its ways to your ears, and you’re reminded that pillows are still burning. You drag a hand down your exhausted face.

“We need to ask Alastor for a new bed”

Adam shrugs. He sits up on the border of the bed, giving you his winged back. Your stomach drops a little when you notice the long scratches trailing down his bare skin, exactly in the valley between the base of his ebony wings.

“I’ll come up with something, it’s better if the others don’t know what happened here”

You nod in agreement “It’s not like they heard us, right? We’ve been discreet”

Downstairs, everybody absolutely heard everything. Every bedspring creaking, every bang of the headboard against the wall, every scream, exclamation, degrading nickname you both screamed to each other. The moment Alastor heard the first, undeniable sound of a wild intercourse, he stood up and bid everybody goodbye to pay a visit to Rosie in Cannibal Town. Husk chugged down two entire bottles of vodka to try to forget what he was hearing. He also had to hand Angel Dust money. Vaggie kept her hand on Nifty’s ears the whole time, maybe the only one who didn’t understand what was going on in Adam’s bedroom and that’s for the better. Charlie just stared at the floor wide eyed, her mouth morphed in an expression of pure uneasiness. Although she also lost the bet against Angel, Cherri tried to distract herself by bumping some music in her headphones to muffle the obscene sounds. Speaking of Angel Dust, he’s now sitting on the couch, his long legs crossed, merrily counting a plump stack of bills.

“Nah, I don’t think so” Adam brushes it off.

He scratches his messy hair, right between his horns. Then, he hunches forward to pick up his boxers from the floor. As he slides them on, you reach for a glass of water left on his nightstand.

“So, it was nice while it lasted, but never again” Adam says.

“Never again” you convene.

That night, you can’t sleep. It’s not the first time Adam hinders your relax, but this is unbearable. You keep rolling left and right on your bed, eyes squeezed shut but your mind still very much active and able to recreate every image your retinas registered that morning. Adam all over you, his wings twitching with every thrust, his voice raspy in your ears, your sweaty bodies brushing skin to skin. Then Adam under you, holding you by the hips with his hands, helplessly grinding against you. And his kisses, his oh-so-skilled fingers because he was a guitarist after all, and the names you called each other, your wings intertwined. You buried your face in your pillow and screamed in agony. You can’t do this. As if your body just gained free will, you get up. You only have a shirt and panties on, but for what you’re about do you decide to leave it that way. You turn the lights in your room on and check yourself quickly in the mirror, brushing your messy hair with your fingers just to be more presentable. Then you take a deep breath, and you rush towards the door. The moment you open it, someone is already on the other side.

Adam.

Eyes wide open in surprise, and his hand extended as if he was about to knock on your door. Your jaw is almost touching the floor right now, and you and Adam stand there for a couple of seconds just staring at each other. You break the silence.

“Were you thinking what I was thinking?” you ask.

“Yes” he blurts out, almost desperately.

In the matter of a second, your mouths are already interlocked again, light moans of satisfaction escaping from both of your lips. You feel Adam’s hands going down the back of your thighs, and you immediately oblige on what he’s suggesting. You jump and intertwine your legs around his waist, as he holds you up with his arms under your thighs. This time it’s Adam who kicks the door shut.

—

To set things straight, Alastor had to replace two beds. The second time unfolded exactly like the first one, with you and Adam promising that it would never happen again even if this is the best sex you both ever experienced. Becoming friends, or better, enemies with benefits wasn’t recommendable. You feared that Lucifer might not take you seriously ever again, and that would shatter you since you look up to him so much. And Adam didn’t want to admit that he was getting himself comfortable in the Hotel.

You fucked again obviously. A lot.

Adam started to question whether your hotel room was enchanted with some sort of sorcery to draw him towards it every night. Honestly you wondered the same about Adam’s room. Especially when you started finding yourself in his bed once, maybe twice a day. The situation is definitely out of control. So much that you and Adam stopped trying to rationalize it, and just came to terms with it. When you met Adam for the first time, not in a billion years you would have thought that things would go this way. He was insufferable, arrogant, a total dickhead. Still kinda is. But Adam’s also your…fuckbuddy? Plaything? Thing? The lines are blurred.

However, you’re good with it and that’s what matters. You don’t care about labels, especially not with someone like him. Who knows what stunts he could pull, you still don’t trust him completely. Something else that matters is that sex with him is astronomically good, but you make sure not to praise Adam too much to prevent boosting his already titanic ego. But Adam knows you like it. It’s in the way you cling to his shoulders, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, your hand tugging his hair in the gap between his horns, your mouth full of sounds of pleasure and his name repeated like a chant. But you managed, more than often, to also turn things around. When it came to sex, Adam was surprisingly able to pipe his ego down a bit to let you just take control, pushing him down and doing all the rest. And in a snap of fingers he was the one hopelessly repeating your name. It was hard for him to restrain himself from dirty talking you, not that you wanted him. You couldn’t judge Adam because you did the same. The rule about no derogatory names was utterly thrown in the air along with any kind of rationality left in you. You liked telling him how much of a fucking asshole he was as you straddled his lap, “I hate you”’s were also a regular between you and Adam when you were close to each other’s faces as you pulled his horns. All of this, to you, feels as if you really just discovered now what sex is, despite all your past experiences.

At first, aftercare wasn’t really a thing. You or Adam, depending on where you were fucking, would just get up and go to bed in your respective rooms. You had nothing else to share after reaching your all time high. You believed that it was the way it ought to be, it’s not like he was your boyfriend or something. Then, one time, you stayed.

—

A bead of sweat running down his temple, Adam rhythmically breaths in and out. That was back-breaking. Awesome as always though. You, on the other hand, are lying down on your stomach, your wings peeping out the sheets. A relaxed smile extended on your face, you close your eyes with your chin resting on your crossed arms.

“Shit, you almost ignited my fuckin’ nuts, fire tits” Adam slurs, his breathing still irregular.

You open one eye, looking at him “You hot?”

“As always” he says with a shit-eating grin, but goes “OW” as soon as you punch his shoulder.

“I mean, duh? We’re in fucking Hell, Heaven was a bit cooler. In every sense” he adds.

“Mh, you’ll get used to it. To be honest, I find your room too chilly”.

Adam pulls himself up in a sitting position, and turns his head to look at you. Your face still plunged in your arms, he could only see your hair spread all over your naked back. But the spots of visible skin were all punctuated in goosebumps, your wings slightly puffed up. He bit the inside of his right cheek.

“You cold?” he asks, unsure.

“As always” you chuckle, mocking him.

Adam rolls his eyes. Then, you hear the familiar sound of sheets moving under Adam’s body, and the mattress bouncing a little meaning that he just got up.

“Take this”

You feel something land on your back, your eyes springing open. You roll around, sheets sliding down from your chest. You notice something stuck hanging on the tip of your left wing, a t-shirt. You take it in your hands, a bit startled. Was Adam being nice?

“Uh…thanks” you say.

Adam mumbles a “Whatever” before getting back to bed.

You pull the shirt down your naked torso, and you check the print on it. A genuine smile forms on your lips.

“You like Limp Bizkit?"

Adam almost chokes on the milkshake he was slurping. He always had one on his nightstand for after sex, his equivalent to a cigarette. He turns around and looks at you with a spontaneous grin of his own.

“You know Limp Bizkit?!” he exclaims.

“Uh, what if I said that Fred Durst signed my tits at Woodstock?” you reply confidently.

Adam’s hands fly up to his head, plunging them in his hair “There’s no way! You’re so fuckin’ lucky! Man I wish Fred Durst signed my tits-no wait a sec”

“One of the best days of my life” you sigh “I miss concerts”.

“Ugh, what would I give to see a human concert. Earth is a shitty dump truck but holy fuck if they have the best music. But not a single artist ends up in Heaven”

You chuckle “I didn’t expect you to be into music this much"

“You literally asked me about my band and you saw my electric guitar getting fixed a thousand times!”

“I thought that was just an act to pick up chicks”

“Not an act but yeah that’s also a reason”

After rolling your eyes in annoyance, you find yourself asking him which other bands he also liked. And, to your surprise, you and Adam had the exact same taste. He excitingly asks you about the concerts you’ve been to, and you tell him all your crazy stories about festivals and concerts. None of you leaves tonight. Adam lies in bed next to you, daydreaming about music, rock or metal. You two scoot closer and closer, your wings touching, chatting and blabbering about everything, not only music, with permanent grins that hurt your cheeks. None of you can help it. And Adam ends up holding you in his arms, french kissing you but lazily and gently, until you two fall asleep. It felt good.

Adam, felt good.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x reader #adam x you #adam fanfiction #adam hazbin hotel #vivziepop #enemies to lovers #writers on tumblr #adam

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sass-squat · 1 year

Text

Part 5 of the Linked Universe Winged Au! In the last poll you guys all voted for him so here he is, Wild!

<<< Previous Next >>>

As always, there has to be a silly little bird fact to start off with so did you know that the American Kestrel is the smallest falcon in North America and only weighs about 3-6 ounces which is the equivalent of 34 pennies? This fact isn't actually important lore wise for this headcanon, but it did remind me of the one post where someone discovered that BoTW Link weighs approximately 8.5 apples.

Anyways, as you may have guessed, Wild is heavily based on the American Kestrel because of their beautiful plumage and their unique behaviors and characteristics.

An example of one of these behaviors is that American Kestrels are known for capitalizing on favorable soaring conditions, such as mountain updrafts and thermals while traveling. In this headcanon, Wild shows this characteristic primarily through his use of Revali's Gale and his tendency to make fires in order to more easily take flight. While his methods are incredibly effective, they do also tend to scare the rest of the group the first time he does them. After all, it's not everyday you see someone make a fire and then run headfirst into it just to take off.

While this specific habit of his may appear to just be a funny little quirk that he just does because he's WILD, it's actually a result of his near death experience with Guardians. The scars on his face and body may be clearly visible to everyone around him, but the damage done to his wings is actually far less noticeable. His various injuries and scars actually have a major impact on his ability to take off and effect his stamina needed to maintain flight for long periods of time. Because of this, he tends to use the aforementioned methods to aid his flight or oftentimes simply chooses to leap off high surfaces and glide rather than attempt to take flight.

However, despite having difficulties with the initial takeoff and his struggles to maintain flight for long periods of time, he's actually very adept and capable of fighting in the air. The way he fights allows him to deliver sharp, agile, and accurate killing blows to his enemies in a way that others describe as, "Witnessing time seemingly slowing down for everyone but him." In other words, he's a real force to be reckoned in once he's finally airborne.

Anyways, there's more I could explain but that's all for now folks! As always, kudos to all those who read all that lore dump and thank you again for always being so kind and supportive! All your words of encouragement always inspire me to worker harder! Thank you all and please feel free to reach out with any questions or requests for who or what you would like to see next!

P.S. After much encouragement I did recently make a TikTok account where I'll try to be posting regularly! Feel free to check it and my Twitter out at sass_squat3! Thank you all again for your support! :D

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cutielights · 3 months

Note

Hey pookie!! I luv ur work sm and I was wondering if u could do a rottmnt boys x spider woman reader ab them reacting to her stopping a collider like miles did? Idek if u watched into the spider verse but maybe something like that if not u could wing it if you'd like tysm hope u have a good day/night! ❤️

>>:] yes. For the purposes of writing, im going to act as if you were a spider person for at least a year before this. Not supposed to be Miles’ story, but pretty similar (if that makes sense)

i waNT THE THIRD MOVIE. Frikin dying of miles morales deprivation over here, hand over the sunflower boy with in tact parents

@moonchhu THE OTHER SPIDER PERSON ONE TAG LIST

That Really Big Earthquake

LEO

“Heyyyy, I haven’t seen you in twenty four hours which truly is a record for us, I missed you, did you miss me? I bet you did right? Go on tell me aaaalllll about it.”

“So, I was just kinda minding my own business, y’know, thwipping and thwapping and going about being an awesome hero when I bumped into myself? Kinda. They looked like me, but they were different, and didn’t look like me, but, I knew they were me! Because my spider sense went off and they could do stuff I could do, but also some different stuff! And then we freaked out for a little bit before I went to auntie May to show her and she showed me four more other me’s who were hiding out in her basement and then we tried getting them home and we had to sneak about in this fancy restaurant wearing bow ties, and we cried and they went into this collider thing, also it turns out my favourite cousin was working for the evil genius corporation and he’s dead now and it feels like my fault, I’m so totally fine don’t worry about me. Howwasyourday?”

“Haha, what.”

“Stopped the collapsing of the multiverse.”

“Oh it sounds so simple when you put it like that.” Yeah okay sarcasm queen

Made you some tea after that, let’s just, take a breath for a minute, m’kay?

He has decided it’s a self care day now, at least he did after thoroughly checking you for injuries

How you do not have a concussion will always escape him, not one broken bone? Seriously? After all that?

Please remind him you’re an actual super hero and not a pane of glass

“Wait what was that about your cousin?”

RAPH

“Hey! How was your weekend?”

“Crazier than yours.”

“Okay, Bet.”

One explanation later sponge bob narrator voice

“Wait, so you’re telling Raph, that huge earthquake that happened, happened because of you and five alternate versions of yourself?

“That’s excluding a lot of things I just told you but, I am telling Raph that, yes.”

Huge bone crushing hugs are in order, according to him at least. And I mean, is he wrong?

Not letting you out of his sight for ages, please, Raph, let them go home

“Why are you so worried? I did it, I won!”

“It’s more the fact that it happened and less the fact that you’re mostly fine.”

DONNIE

Othello Von Ryan: Stay home, S.H.E.L.LD.O.N has picked up on some strange (possibly universal fabric destroying) activity. Also there has been some earthquake activity in the area you were in yesterday, not that I have a tracker on you. Because I don’t.

Only Two Legs: I handled it don’t worry :D

Othello Von Ryan: ?

Othello Von Ryan: Traverse to My Lab.

“Heyyy Deee.”

“Stop. Explain. This better be your attempt at humor.”

There was silence for a long while after you had messily glued together words to describe the past 24 hours, before he took a deep breath.

“First, How dare you stop the multiverse from collapsing without me that’s incredible rude. Second, therapy. Third, that earthquake and power surge destroyed My Lab, thankfully I have backup backups to my backups, but I couldn’t use the internet for an hour straight.”

“Y- You’re more concerned about the internet?”

“Not what I said. Now let me check you for a concussion.”

MIKEY

“Hey they took down those art displays.”

“The what?”

“Oh you weren’t here, BUT there was these reaaaallllyyyyy cool art statues along this street! Look, hey, look, I took pics!”

“Oh cooollluuuhhh that’s not an art display that’s five different fire hydrants merged into each other.”

“Haha yeah it does kinda look like that doesn’t it? I thought it was supposed to be a dog.”

“Mikey, no-“ You pulled him aside into an empty alleyway, trying to explain what had happened over the past twenty four hours.

It was an interesting experience, but you got there eventually.

Best believe this boy is giving you the biggest hug ever, and then buying pizza.

Oh, and Dr Feelings is going to be paying you a visit. Multiple. You can’t escape him.

“So they weren’t art displays?”

Speedily bulk writing and scheduling rn bc im going on a holiday with zero internet.

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apomaro-mellow · 5 months

Text

King&Prince 6

Nancy was pacing back and forth. Normally, it made Eddie anxious, but since he knew exactly what was on her mind, he decided to let her continue until her short legs tired her out.

"I just-I don't understand you. How can you give him free reign of the castle?"

"He doesn't have free reign", Eddie said.

"Did you put a collar on him? Or cuffs?", Nancy asked. When Eddie shook his head, she continued. "Do you put any sort of spell on him? Or charm?"

"Robin can handle herself. And there's always guards nearby if he steps out of line."

Nancy looked him up and down, then crossed her arms. "It's almost like you have faith in him or something."

Eddie couldn't describe what he was feeling. He couldn't forgive the Harringtons for what they had been doing. But Dustin was right. Unless he could prove that Steve had been directly responsible, it wasn't right to punish him. He could still dislike him, since he definitely benefited from the misdeeds of his family.

And there was a slim chance those hard feelings would ever change.

------------------------

Steve got dressed just in time to hear someone knock on the door.

"Hey, your royal slowness, we haven't got time for you to soak all day. I have actual important things to do."

It sounded like the woman from before. The one who didn't want him. Steve opened the door to her unimpressed face.

"Let's go."

"Without shoes?", Steve asked, looking down his bare feet.

"You won't need 'em."

She led him down the hall, past some windows and Steve got his first glimpse of the outside. It looked...normal. Nothing like the blackened, dead trees, and the dry, salted earth that he'd been led to believe this area was. The trees were wilting, sure, but in the typical way ones did in autumn. There was grass and even people doing chores outside.

Past the castle walls, he could make out something in the distance that looked like a town.

"Keep up!"

Steve tore his eyes away and saw that she was a long ways ahead of him. He jogged to catch up, noting the carpet on the floor. He was suddenly reminded of being very young and still allowed to go barefoot outside his quarters.

"Alright", she opened up a closet that was filled with instruments. "I need these moved over to the other end of the south wing and then polished and shined."

"So you're using a prince as both a pack mule and a maid?", Steve asked, brow raised. "What if I refuse?"

"Then I get our all-powerful king to put a compulsion hex on you and hypnotize you to do it anyway."

"Steve!", Dustin exclaimed when he came around the corner, beaming. "I went down to visit you and you were gone! They set you free?"

"I'm less free and more like free labor, apparently."

"You know you're not supposed to go down into the dungeons, Dustin."

"I see you've met Robin. Don't worry, she's nicer than she looks", Dustin grinned.

"Not nice enough to not tell Eddie what you've been doing. And I'm pretty sure he threatened to tell your mom. Maybe I'll just cut out the middle man", Robin warned.

Dustin paled. "You wouldn't dare."

Robin gestured to the musical instruments. "Help out with this and I won't tell a soul."

Dustin let out a breath of relief. "Menial work? That's it? Between Steve and me, we can knock this out easy."

Steve frowned. "I never said I'd-"

"This spoiled brat probably can't even lift a flute", Robin challenged.

"He knows how to kill a guy like a dozen different ways. Steve could finish this in like ten minutes", Dustin countered.

"Ooh, challenge accepted", Robin turned, ignoring Steve's protests. "I'll be in the second music room. Keep his highness on a tight leash."

Fully roped into it, Steve started hauling instruments. Dustin was talking, but he was thinking of his escape. He had no shackles, no bars. He could find a moment to get past the walls and then...maybe it would be better to sneak to the stables and get a horse first. He dreaded the thought of traveling such a distance with no shoes though. Maybe someone had a pair lying around?

Could he steal a pair in town without anyone noticing? He doubted most townsfolk would recognize him as an enemy prince. Steve was deep in his escape plan strategizing, that he just nodded along and 'mhm'ed to whatever it was that Dustin was saying. That kid could talk to a wall and keep the conversation going, which he was pretty much doing now, talking to Steve.

He barely even noticed that they were done moving things until the woman, Robin, threw a cloth at him.

"I want these shiny enough to see my reflection in them", she ordered.

"Why are you making him do all this?", Dustin asked.

"I'm getting new students tomorrow and they deserve nice equipment."

Dustin's eyes narrowed. "Who?"

"Oh no one you'd know. Except for Mike."

"Mike?!"

"And Max. And El, oh and Lucas and", Robin went on naming people, some Steve knew, others that he didn't.

"Bullshit! There's no way they're all taking classes!"

"Oh they are. And you are too", Robin said while leaving the room.

Incredulous, Dustin followed her out, leaving Steve alone in the room. Alone. They had left him alone. He looked to the open door, leading out into the hallway, then the instruments spread out on tables and the floor, covered in dust.

-------------------

Jeff and Nancy were strolling the halls, discussing how best to prepare for any sort of retaliation when they heard whistling. It wasn't the sound that gave them pause, but where it was coming from. A music room that wasn't supposed to be in use yet. They poked their heads in and saw Prince Steve, whistling a happy working tune while shining a shining a trumpet.

The two of them pulled their heads out, shared a mutual expression of confusion and went to seek out Eddie to report to him, but he was nowhere to be found. That usually meant he was off in town or visiting some other part of the kingdom. Either way, they wouldn't be able to talk to him until he returned.

Steve didn't spend too long rationalizing why he was doing this. He was just biding his time until he came up with a more solid plan. Even though his homeland wasn't really a home, at least no one there wanted to actively kill him. He wasn't safe here and he couldn't forget that. He especially couldn't let his guard down around the king.

Robin remembered him a couple of hours later and led him back to the room he'd first been brought to. Steve had time to actually look at it now. Smaller than his own room but larger than the prison cell. Definitely warmer to. But besides that, it was very minimal and sparse. A bed, a small drawer, and the bathroom. Steve wondered what this room was for. It was an odd sort of guest room.

Robin said something about dinner being brought up but Steve paid it no mind when he realized he'd be sleeping on a bed tonight. He collapsed into it and buried himself in the blanket. He'd be having sleep for dinner.

Part 8

Tag Team

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#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #robin buckley #dustin henderson #steve harrington

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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months

Text

Taglist: @souyasbabyy @kittekat420 @mellozhi @bro-let-me-sleep

This was long overdue…also do I have any idea where this series is going? Honestly I’m just wining it, so if it seems like there’s no consistency…that’s probably bc of me wining it.

Warning: ooc hobie? Shit writing?

Butterflies can’t see the colour of their wings series:

Part 1

Part 2

part 3 (you are here)

When Hobie told you that he’d be there if you were going through something; he meant it.

When Hobie told you that you could come to him for anything that might be plaguing your mind with doubt; he meant it.

He meant every promise he’s ever made.

Every. Last. One.

However Hobie knew that to push you into telling him everything wasn’t the right way to go about solving things, and instead he should wait until you were ready to talk about the issue on your own terms. You’re amazing Hobie and I’m not dismissing your help or anything but I’m sure I can figure this out on my own, if I can’t then I’ll come to you. Were the words you spoke to him. You always wanted to figure things out yourself first before resorting to relying on others for help. While that was admirable, Hobie secretly wanted to be the one you relied on most; after overhearing what you said to Miles about the consequences of wanting what you can’t have because you felt as though you didn’t fit with him.

Which -for clarification- Hobie found to be utter and total bullshit because to him, you couldn’t have fitted better with him. He could give less of a shit about how different you were, whether it was based on lifestyles, aesthetics or differences in personalities, because at the end of the day Hobie only wished to help you realise how beautiful your butterfly wings were; and they are the most beautiful he’s ever seen that to try and describe them would be a fruitless endeavour for you made him feel all kinds of things and those things you made him feel were new and exciting.

How he wishes he could find the way to rid you forever of your self doubt and insecurities that run so deep within yourself that it was nearly impossible to find where it was that the seed of doubt was placed within your heart and soul. Hobie knew he can only say so much before it begins to sound like he was rehashing those same words in a multitude of different ways until they held no emotion nor meaning.

Another thing he often pondered to himself in his spare time was the kiss you left engraved upon his cheek that day as he often ran his calloused fingertips across it gingerly, still feeling the phantom of your lips there. He first wondered if that kiss was merely a gesture of thanks for his offer to help; nothing to be looked deeply upon for it untimely meant nothing outside your appreciation for the strong platonic bond you both built since meeting one another; Whereas he sometimes wished it was you slowly accepting his willingness to become more integrated with your life then he already is but to a more deeper and intimate level.

A level where in his fantasy you both could sit in a together in total silence as you both did your own thing, easily finding comfort within one another’s presence and knowing that you’d never be too far away from actively seeking for one another when wanting to show something.

A level where you would wear his vest outside of the excuse that you looked cold but more so because it would inherit your scent within the fabric, so that whenever he was away he would be reminded of the piece of you that he had with him, telling him that you were waiting for him back home.

A level where he could look into your eyes and see his entire life within them.

A level where he would’ve finally found a way in making you see you from his point of view; for you were a butterfly who would one day realise the colour of your wings and he was the human that would help you see their beauty and worth.

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 7 months

Note

Has this already been done? Arven, Penny, and Nemona with The Loyal Three.

Nemona is the Brawn, Penny is the Brain, which makes Arven the Beauty.

If you meant the saga of Reader introducing the Scarvi Trio to Legendaries, here it is <3

........

"How dare you bully sweet old Ogerpon?! You punks should've picked on someone your own size..like me!"

"Oh no.."

"Maybe you should've left that part of the story out, [y/n]."

"I probably could've worded it better, but I didn't think she'd freak out that much." Sighing, you turned away from Penny and Arven, looking to see Nemona scowling at the Loyal Three, giving them the reprimand of a lifetime.

Never before have any of you seen her get so....angry.

She was almost never angry at all. Not even after you've defeated her in battle over and over again did she lose her cool.

Perhaps you should avoid using the word "bully" to describe Pokémon. She was definitely acting like she was back in her early student council president days.

"I guess it makes sense why [y/n]'s friend Carmine called you the "Lousy Three"..because your attitudes were just plain lousy-!"

"Alright, Nemona. That's enough. I've already given them a lecture over it..and then some." You whistled for the trio to come to you, and they were rather quick to run over and hide behind you.

They seemed somewhat grateful that you rescued them, although Okidogi was quick to snarl as she approached, the fur on his tail becoming bristled. He cracked his knuckles with anticipation, clearly looking for a fight.

Munkidori kept trying to grab ahold of his arm, trying to discourage him from doing anything rash (such as starting a fight, which is what you specifically told them all not to do). But the larger Pokémon just huffed and tried shaking off his grip.

Fezandipiti, in the meantime, just turned his attention to Arven and Penny, trying to look anywhere but the embarrassing scene unfolding in front of him. He did like seeing their surprised faces, smirking and even stroking a wing over his head to show off.

You just shook your head, wondering how you were going to deescalate this mess yet again.

After your short trip to Kitakami, you've returned to Paldea with four extra companions: all of them being legendaries with a story tied to them.

One that turned out to be quite false.

You explained how Ogerpon was mistakenly considered the "bad guy" for many generations while the Loyal Three were deemed "heroes" who sacrificed themselves to save the village...but in reality it was the opposite.

They attacked Ogerpon for her masks and killed her trainer, and she fought back and defeated them all, yet she was scorned rather than praised, going into hiding for many years since.

After the trio was revived somehow, you went on to retrieve her masks and eventually captured them all, although of course they were anything but "loyal" and thought you were just lucky.

Not to mention they continued to annoy Ogerpon every time your back was turned, stealing bites of her sandwiches and throwing the toy ball in her face like they were playing dodgeball.

You only intervened after she nearly destroyed the picnic table with her cudgel in a fit of anger..clearly an obvious set-up by the trio who thought you'd be mad at her.

But you saw through their plan and got fed up, reminding them who exactly kicked their asses.

You didn't hold back at all.

Munkidori was quickly humbled, recalling that he got beaten up first in front of his two friends...so he apologized to Ogerpon right away. His future sight forewarned him of the consequences of acting out of line again, so he encouraged the others to do the same.

Fezandipiti, being the sassy and vain bird that he is, rolled his eyes. Although he valued his looks and would rather not get dirty from another battle with your Pokémon. He's suffered through enough of those to know it's just not worth it. So he promised to never bother Ogerpon again.

Okidogi, however, had the toughest time letting go of his pride. He refused to apologize at first, acting immature and snapping at the other two for going "soft". But he only turned over a new leaf after you threatened to stop giving them all mochi.

You meant it as a joke, although it was super effective in making the stubborn poison/fighting type panic and apologize to her, willing to do whatever you wanted from there on.

That day, you quickly learned that just like Koraidon/Miraidon..you held power over some mighty Pokémon.

Not with any special items or ancient relics, but with ordinary food.

So with the Loyal Three finally in your control, now seemed to be the perfect time to properly introduce them to your closest friends in Paldea.

Although...you weren't expecting Nemona to scold them like you did, nor did you think she'd still have such an intense staredown with Okidogi.

"Nemona." You warned again.

She snapped out of her trance and looked to you, frowning a little. "Sorry about that, [y/n]. It's just...whenever I hear a sad story about someone getting bullied just for defending themselves..I get heated. Especially if it's between Pokémon."

"I understand." You gave her a reassuring smile, before you reached up to pet Okidogi's arm. "Don't worry, big guy. When I said she was great at battling, I didn't mean with words."

He only snorted in response, but otherwise remained silent as his haunches relaxed.

"I promise you're gonna absolutely love her strategies. She helped me become a great trainer....I learned a lot from her."

"...you did?" Stars formed in Nemona's eyes at your praises, both hands going to her chest as her smile grew. "Awh, [y/n] that's so sweet of you!"

'Well it's true, but-"

"Hold on." She interrupted, staring at the doglike Pokémon. "Does Okidogi actually wanna battle me???"

His ears perked up, and he smiled and nodded his head, to which she gasped with excitement. "Oh can I please battle him, [y/n]???" She clasped her hands together. "I wanna see what he's got!"

"Of course." You chuckled.

"Wait, what's happening?"

"Nemona's gonna try to fight a Legendary? You sure that's a good idea?"

Turning around, you were met with the confused and concerned looks of Penny, Arven, Munkidori, and Fezandipiti.

But seeing them all standing there gave you another idea, causing a bigger grin to form on your face. "I got it..how about you guys have a battle with them, too? It could be a great way for you all to get to know each other!"

"Huh, that sounds like something I'd orchestrate...but I'm loving the idea!" Nemona agreed, before she and Okidogi rushed to get into their battle positions.

"Okay, so she and Oki got a battle of the brawns going on. Which leaves..." You spun around and pointed to Penny, then Munkidori. "...you and him to have a battle of the brains!"

"I'm not sure about that," she mumbled. "You have that much confidence in me?"

'Of course I do. You fight well with your Eeveelutions, so I'm sure you'll be able to outwit Munki somehow."

"Mmmikay?" The poison/psychic blinked, although he seemed to take that as a challenge and huffed confidently, looking to Penny.

"......alright. Let's do this, I guess." She sighed in defeat before the two went to do battle somewhere nearby.

You then looked at Arven. "Well uh...this is a little awkward, but-"

"Fezandipiti and I are gonna be the "battle of the beauty"...of course." He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "I haven't freshened up my battling skills since the tournament, but I wouldn't mind a little practice."

"Yip-ippy!" The birdlike Pokémon trilled, flying over to a random spot as Arven quickly chased him down, Mabosstiff not too far behind him.

Now that it was just you and Ogerpon standing side-by-side, she turned to you with a look of confusion. "Pon?" She took out one of her masks, tilting her head.

"Oh no. We've already had our battle and I got to learn so much about you." You chuckled, gently patting her head between the horns. "But if you want...maybe they can battle you later and see how your masks work. How about that?"

"Hmm....pon!! Ponni!!!"

"Haha, I thought so. Until then, we'll be their cheerleaders."

#clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #teal mask x reader #teal mask spoilers #loyal three #okidogi #munkidori #fezandipiti #pokemon arven #pokemon nemona #pokemon penny

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yandere-writer-momo · 6 months

Text

I’m finally done with the bird men story. Took forever and I also added a lot of bird facts if you squint.

Yandere Baki Short Stories: Birds of a Feather

Hanayama Kaoru x Afab Reader x Katsumi Orochi

Harpy AU

Obsidian. That was the color (your name) would use to describe the eyes of the large harpy that pinned her down in the snow. His white wings freckled with black spots and his talons were sharp but she couldn’t help but find him beautiful… beautiful like an angel of death.

He tilted his head to the side, the scars on his face were prominent. This snow owl harpy was a seasoned hunter and she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. Yet she couldn’t find it in her nature to be upset with him.

The male harpy was just about to strike this small mortal down until he saw the white feathers under her cloak. She was a harpy too? Impossible… she should be in the skies if that were the case and not scurrying the snow fields like a rodent.

“State your business.” His voice was cold like the snow that seeped through her clothes and yet she was not afraid.

“I fled from my owners.” (Your name) replied in a soft tone. She didn’t want to upset this large harpy anymore than she already had.

The male harpy immediately moved off of her, his obsidian eyes studied her face to see if she told the truth. But the shackle around her dainty talons and her big, innocent eyes told him everything. She was a domesticated harpy… just like his mother.

“Species?” His voice was soft, his obsidian eye held pity in them.

“I’m a dove.” (Your name) replied, a bit of her feathers now ruffled once she sat up. Now he could see her white wings better. She wouldn’t last out here…

“Until the snow melts, you can stay with me.”

“My name is (your name). What’s yours?”

The male harpy turns around and gives her a nod. “Hanayama Kaoru. You may call me Hanayama.”

He begins to trudge through the snow but not before he cast her another look. “Hurry along now. I don’t have much patience.”

(Your name) eagerly followed behind him, being sure not to lose sight of him. Her heart drummed in her chest in happiness.

She finally made her first friend.

Kaoru woke up in the middle of the night when he felt something warm beside him. What was that?

He slowly turned his head around and saw (your name) cuddled into his side. He frowned when her body shivered in her sleep. She wasn’t built for the cold… despite how soft and fluffy her feathers were.

Kaoru glanced out of his burrow in thought. He daintiness reminded him of his mother so he was merely doing her this favor as a homage of his mother’s memory. Nothing more.

Tomorrow he would go to find her some pelts and some berries. Lest he wanted a puffy corpse beside him.

Once spring rolled around, he’d kick her out to fend for herself… or so he told himself.

Kaoru had to lightly kick her away from him here and there whenever she’d get too close to him. Her affection irritated him.

“Just stay on your side of the burrow. It’s cold where I’m positioned.” Kaoru told her in a firm tone. “Remember, you’re only here until spring.”

“I’m sorry.” Doves were social birds, it was her natural instinct to want to be near him. Yet she couldn’t find the words to tell him that. “You’re just very warm.”

Kaoru sighed and handed her some pelts off his side. “Here. You can stay warm with these.”

(Your name) frowned but accepted the gift. She had only wanted to be near him so they could be warm together… but it seemed he had no interest in her whatsoever.

“I’m sorry.” Kaoru didn’t respond to her apology. He simply curled back up into his spot to sleep.

Maybe she could reorganize the burrow so they could be warm together without being near each other? Maybe that would work!

The young woman snuggled into her numerous pelts with a smile.

Kaoru was surprised to find his burrow cozier than normal. The snow owl harpy was shocked to see her evenly laying out the pelts.

“Oh! I decided to make it a little comfier since we have a few more months together.” (Your name) beamed at him, her fluffy feathers puffed out a bit in her excitement.

Kaoru frowns and began to gather the pelts up, much to (your name)’s shock. The snow owl harpy handed her the pelts.

“These are only for you. I don’t need them to stay warm.”

(Your name) put her head down and frowned. She had spent hours on the pelts’ placement to make it comfortable for two but it seemed her efforts only irritated him.

An awkward silence enveloped the burrow. One that Kaoru was confused by but ultimately he settled in to his usual corner by the entrance. The large harpy paid no mind to the disappointed (your name).

(Your name) curled up in the pelts with a small frown. She hadn’t meant to annoy him… maybe she could try helping him with something else?

(Your name) glanced at the red raspberries that were collected on one of the shelves in Kaoru’s burrow. Maybe she could collect berries like those?

She just wanted to help him was all… a shame it would land her into trouble.

(Your name) snuck out during the day. She wrapped a pelt around her cloak as her small feet padded against the cold snow.

This was the first time she’s been out of the burrow since she’s arrived a month ago. And she could tell spring would be near soon.

(Your name) made sure to keep track of where she was going. Her head would glance behind her every once and while to make sure her foot prints were still there. She didn’t want to get lost… or at least inconvenience Kaoru even more.

The dove harpy craved to preen his pretty feathers and to sit beside him but he didn’t like her all that much. It honestly broke her heart. She just wanted to be his friend.

Maybe this misadventure would help her find a home of her own? If she found a decent spot with food, maybe she’d find a nice burrow of her own?

(Your name) continued on her journey, her heart now set ablaze with determination. She could do it. Even though she was a dove, she could survive the wild.

About ten more minutes of walking and she stumbled across a bush full of red raspberries. It was a success!

(Your name) quickly made her way over the the bush, her white feathers ruffled in excitement. She couldn’t wait to pick a couple and take them back to Kaoru…

“What do you think you’re doing?!” (Your name) froze right in front of the bush when she heard a masculine voice. Her head whipped around to see a large harpy with snow white wings at the edge of the pond. His dark brows furrowed and his muscular arms crossed. He looked upset. “This is swan harpy territory.”

“O-oh I didn’t know.” (Your name) bowed her head, the hood of her cloak fell off from the quick motion. “I-I can keep looking- eep!”

The swan harpy now stood right in front of her, his cheeks now a rosy shade of pink.

“I didn’t know you were also a swan…” The young harpy whispered, his tone filled with hope.

“Oh I’m not a swan, I’m a dove!” (Your name) giggles as she shows off her wings to the other harpy.

The harpy held up his white wings as well. The male harpy bounced a bit with each step toward her.

“Still… we’re so similar. I haven’t seen a female harpy except for my adopted mom.” The harpy shared, his expression soft. “You can collect berries, I just thought you were a predator.”

“I don’t think a predator would eat berries.” (Your name) giggled which made the male harpy blush.

“My name is Katsumi Orochi.” He introduced himself with a bow. “I’m a trumpeter swan harpy.”

“My name is (your name) and I’m a white dove harpy.” (Your name) smiled at Katsumi who seemed so happy.

“I could help you pick some berries.” Katsumi offered with a soft smile. “I feel bad being a little mean to you earlier…”

(Your name) felt her heart flutter at his genuineness. Katsumi was really sweet unlike Kaoru…

“I’d love that.”

Katsumi began to pick raspberries with her. The swan harpy cast a few glances at her, his cheeks aflame the entire time.

“So what brings you to this cold terrain? I didn’t think doves live in the snow.” Katsumi asked with interest. He wanted to know more about her… as much as she’d tell him.

“I ran away from my owners and I started living here.” (Your name) smiled at Katsumi who had a sympathetic expression on his face. “I currently live with another harpy but I’ll have to find my own home come spring.”

“Well… you could live with my flock and I.” Katsumi blushed, his heart hammered in his chest. This might be his chance to find a mate… she seemed sweet.

“I’d have to get to know you better then.” (Your name) laughed which made Katsumi blush more.

“Then you can come here to see me whenever you’d like.” Katsumi told her with a grin. “I can show you around!”

She should pursue a friendship with this sociable harpy instead. He seemed thrilled to meet her so maybe she should take him up on his offer?

“I’d love that.” (Your name) smiled warmly at Katsumi. The other harpy gave her a smile as bright as the sun.

“Great!” Katsumi handed her the last handful of raspberries he picked. “I’ll show you where all the best spots to eat are!”

And so began their friendship! Or at least that’s what (your name) thought it was. She hadn’t realized that the swan harpy was actively courting her.

Kaoru was surprised at the berries presented to him from (your name). Her white wings puffed out in pride from all the berries she found.

Kaoru popped a few in his mouth with a stern look in his eye.

“Did you leave from the burrow for these?” Kaoru asked her the obvious, his body trembled a bit. She had wandered out into the snow with no protection… what if something had happened to her? What if a predator caught her? Didn’t she know of the danger outside?

“I did. I found a nice bush a few minutes from here.” (Your name) smiled warmly at Kaoru. “I thought I’d get you some berries since you always bring me things.”

Kaoru felt his heart clench at her words. Was she courting him? Kaoru felt his feathers ruffle at the thought. He had never thought about the possibility of her holding a torch for him but it would make sense. She must want to stay after spring with him since he took such good care of her.

Kaoru ate the berries she offered him with a ghost of a smile on his face. (Your name) was so sweet with all of her courting rituals. How could he be so blind not to see it all before?

“Thank you.” Kaoru told her, his eyes studied her soft expression. Tonight and from now on, he’d allow her to lay beside him for warmth.

Kaoru had decided to accept her as his lifelong mate.

Kaoru placed a pelt next to (your name) while she slept. The owl harpy careful not to disturb her too much.

She looked so warm and comfortable under all those pelts… perhaps he should make a nest of them since she liked them so much?

He should start to look for a bigger home. Kaoru didn’t want to be a bad mate after all. Once spring rolled around, they could have their first brood.

(Your name) often snuck out of the burrow to go see Katsumi. She really wanted to be friends with the kind swan harpy. He seemed so sweet compared to the stoic Kaoru. And she liked how easy he was to talk to.

Katsumi smiled brightly when he spotted (your name). The swan harpy was quick to take her hands in his larger ones. His white wings spread a bit to lightly touch hers.

“I was worried you wouldn’t come back!”

“I told you I would, didn’t I?” (Your name) told Katsumi with a grin. The swan nodded.

“And I told you I’d show you all the best spots to eat!” Katsumi blushed, his hands held hers tightly. “And if you’d like… I can show you my home.”

“Your home?” (Your name) asked with a head tilt. Katsumi eagerly nodded.

“Yes! I built my own home by the pond.” Katsumi puffed out his chest with pride. “It’s big too. I could probably fit a whole family in there.”

Katsumi lead (your name) toward the pond, the swan harpy pointed out various spots for her to admire.

“We have various berry bushes around here and we even have some wild vegetables that grow over there by the willow trees.” Katsumi babbled with a bright smile on his face. He seemed to really love his home. “The flock and I come back here every year just a bit before spring starts so no one else takes our spot.”

(Your name) giggled at how happy Katsumi seemed about being home. He was cute.

The pair stopped in front of a large, sturdy home made of sticks and mud. The sticks were wrapped firmly together with vines. It was impressive.

“And this is my home!” Katsumi ushered her inside the cozy home. She was in awe of how well constructed it was. This must have taken him years to build not to mention the large nest in the center of the home. It looked comfortable with the blankets and pillows… he must have carefully curated each item to impress a mate. “Do you like it? I tried to make it as comfortable as possible.”

“It’s lovely, Katsumi.” (Your name) told him as she admired the shelves that lined the walls full of nuts and dried fruits. She couldn’t believe how stocked his home was with food. He could probably feed a whole family! “How long did this all take you?”

Katsumi hummed in thought. “The home itself took me a few years but I’ve been working on the nest over the last few days. I’m still adding to it until spring.”

“I’m sure it’ll be impressive by then.” (Your name) smiled at Katsumi who blushed a bright red. “It already looks quite comfortable.”

“Y-you can sit in it if you’d like.” Katsumi told her with a shy smile, his cheeks still a bright shade of cherry. “Test it out.”

(Your name) slowly went towards the nest and nestled into it. It was nearly a perfect fit for two with how spacious it was. It could be a little softer though.

“What do you think?”

“It just needs to be a little softer but other than that, it’s a comfortable size for two.” (Your name) told him with a smile. The swan quickly leapt onto the nest and nestled beside her in thought. His larger body didn’t fit as comfortably as her smaller one did.

“Hmm… I’ll have to make it bigger and softer then!” Katsumi beamed with a grin. He held out his hand to help her up. “That way there’s no room for a refusal.”

(Your name) smiled at Katsumi who seemed more determined to make a better nest. The swan took her hands in his with a bright smile.

“I can’t wait for spring time!” Katsumi smiled at her. “I’ll make sure you feel welcomed into the flock.”

Kaoru flew around the land in search for a new home for him and his lovely dove. He needed to prepare for spring and their burrow was not safe from ground predators or from other harpies. Plus they’d need a place where they could find plenty of food, the area near the pond was starting to run scarce since the swans have returned early from migration.

A cave on a cliff caught his eye. Maybe this was it?

Kaoru flew into the cave to inspect it. His wings folded behind him while he explored. It seemed abandoned… and it was spacious.

Kaoru marveled at the shelves that lined the walls and the build in beds. Whoever used to live here must have spent awhile building this… he was happy to have stumbled across it.

Kaoru decided that this would be their future home and he was sure she’d love it.

Katsumi constantly brought her various vegetation and berries to eat with the biggest smile on his face over the last few weeks. They’d share small talk and laugh together every single time. She really liked him.

Just like today, the two sat by the pond and shared stories. This time, (your name) shared more about her past with him. She trusted Katsumi and felt the need to vent to him.

“You can’t fly?” Katsumi asked (your name) with a frown, the swan harpy glanced at her clipped wings. “I can’t believe your owners did that to you…”

The two harpies sat by the large pond where Katsumi resided. The swan harpy was shirtless, his muscles on proud display while (your name) wore her cloak and a dress. Their white wings touched tips.

“It’s so I couldn’t fly away but I think my flight feathers are starting to come in.” (Your name) flexed her wing out to him with a smile. Katsumi pulled her into a hug.

“Well I’ll teach you how to fly once they come in!” Katsumi smiled brightly at her. “Do you want to try to swim?”

“I don’t know if I’d be any good.” (Your name) squealed when Katsumi scooped her into his bare arms. “Hey!”

“Then you can just sit on my chest and I’ll take us around the pond.” Katsumi gave her a big smile and a kiss on her cheeks. “Just hold onto me!”

The swan harpy then went into the water, but he didn’t allow her to get wet. A big smile on his face.

(Your name) was in awe at how pretty the water was. She count believe how different everything was when one was in the pond itself…

“Once it’s spring time, you’ll see more plants and life.” Katsumi told her, his eyes studied her awestruck expression. He was happy he brought her out into the pond. “I’ll personally take you on as many swims as you’d like.”

“Promise?”

“I swear.”

“You seem happier.” Kaoru told her with a nod. The snow owl harpy handed her some berries and nuts he had found. He had noticed a change in her. She used to be such an awkward thing but now she’s grown on him. Kaoru had come to like her company.

“I’m just excited for spring.” (Your name) gave Kaoru a big smile. She was excited to spend more time with Katsumi by the pond. He promised to teach her how to fly… as well as rides on the pond and to show her his completed house. He was such an amazing friend.

Kaoru felt his feathers ruffle at her words. She was excited to mate with him? He was too… he had recently found the perfect cliff to take her to. It was much larger and safer than this burrow so it’d be perfect for young.

Kaoru observed her hum while she organized her new pelts with the others. Yes… he was sure she’d be happy in their new home.

The young woman would sneak out of her and Kaoru’s burrow l to spend time with her friend. Kaoru was none the wiser since he’d be out flying all day doing whatever owls do. He wasn’t the best company anyways.

The star of today’s show was a baby blue blanket Katsumi had in his hands. There was a little swan family embroidered into the soft cotton… but one of the swans looked eerily similar to a dove. Perhaps it was an error?

“My adopted mom taught me how to embroider but I’m not the greatest at it… I’m sorry they’re kind of ugly.” Katsumi flushed a bright cherry red as he handed her the blanket. “I just thought you always looked cold so I wanted to gift you something.”

“I think you did a really great job.” (Your name) took the blanket from him with a smile. This was so cute… he was so thoughtful.

If she looked into it more, she’d realize that his ‘friendship’ was courting. How was she to know that the swan harpy was determined to be her mate for the rest of his life?

If only she knew the little embroidered family on the baby blue blanket was a premonition.

There was a sudden change in Kaoru. One that wasn’t entirely unwelcome but one that was strange. Kaoru now would lay beside her at night and during the early hours of the day. He still didn’t speak much but his actions were loud.

He would bring her more berries and pelts. She felt like the burrow was a large nest at this point from all the things he was bringing. He was always so silent and his eyes always watched her. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought he was a hawk.

(Your name) laid in her pelts, the blanket Katsumi gifted her was underneath her for more warmth. Soon it would be spring and soon she’d be spending more time with the swan… she couldn’t wait to see Katsumi!

She eventually fell asleep while Kaoru laid beside her. His large wing covered her like a blanket. He was happy to see she was happy by his side. He never thought he’d find a mate and here she was… his cute, sweet mate. He was so happy she loved his pelts… what was that blue thing?

And that’s when he saw the baby blueunder her. His obsidian eyes widened in shock and surprise. Where did she find this?

Kaoru held the corner of the blanket up, his brows furrowed together at the small swans embroidered into the fabric. Had she been associating with a swan?

Kaoru felt an anger rise in him when he saw the dove beside a swan on the blanket. Was someone trying to steal her away from him? Didn’t they know she already had a mate?

Kaoru glanced at the peacefully slumbering form of (your name). Spring would be here in two weeks… did she think he was still going to kick her out? He wouldn’t do what he originally told her he would…

Kaoru burrowed into the pelts with her. His speckled wings tangled with her fluffy white ones. His muscular arms wrapped around her waist in a vice like grip.

He wouldn’t let her go… Kaoru would never let her go. She was his.

Katsumi eagerly sat by the pond for (your name). The swan harpy had preened his feathers for hours and slicked back his black hair to look his best for his darling dove.

Next week was spring, the week he’d take her to their nest. Their home to raise cygnets together.

Katsumi smiled when he saw something white out of his peripheral. He turned with a smile but was met with a fist to the face. The swan harpy fell into the grass with a smack. What on earth was that?

“Stay the hell away from my dove.” Kaoru hissed, he flashed his sharp talons at Katsumi in warning.

His dove? Did he mean (your name)? No… she had accepted his gifts. (Your name) had accepted him!

Katsumi was quick to leap up, his wings spread out menacingly. He wasn’t going to back down. (Your name) must be held captor by this owl and that’s why she wasn’t here… he’d defeat him and save her.

Kaoru was shocked at the quick blows dealt to him by the swan. A fist collided with his face and his large wings slapped against Kaoru’s own.

An all out brawl broke out between the two men. Feathers and blood splattered all over the grass since neither one wanted to give up.

“Stop! Stop!” The two men hissed at each other before they separated when (your name) came running over. Her white wings flapped futilely behind her. “What are you doing?!”

“He attacked me!” Katsumi screeched. His once white feathers now painted with red specks. “Are you okay, (your name)? Did this owl try to kidnap you?”

“Kidnap her? (Your name) is my mate, you loon.” Kaoru hissed, the owl flapped his large wings up and down. “Stay away from her-“

“Mate?” (Your name) asked softly with a confused expression. Where on earth did Kaoru get that idea from? “I thought we were merely roommates until spring-“

“You’re much more than a roommate.” Kaoru tried to get closer to her but Katsumi stood in the way. “You courted me and I accepted-“

“I just wanted to pay back your hospitality with berries.” (Your name) replied with a flustered expression. Why on earth would he think she wanted him? He pushed her attempts at friendship away…

“You can’t leave. I have a new home picked out for us.” Kaoru told her, had the swan influenced her? Had he tempted her with his romance? Kaoru could be romantic too… he’d spend more time with her if that’s what she wanted. “We’re leaving-“

Kaoru made a move to grab (your name) but Katsumi smacked his hand away. The swan glared at the owl.

“She accepted me. So you should go.” Katsumi hissed, his white feathers all ruffled. “Back off.”

(Your name) perked up at this in shock. Katsumi…. Katsumi wanted to be her mate too? Was that why he was so nice to her- oh god. She sat in the nest. She accepted the swan blanket with the dove on it. Oh no… no, no, no.

She was a domesticated dove who knew nothing of the wild. How was she to know these two men wanted her as their mate.

(Your name) could do nothing but sit there shell shocked while the two males squared off against one another.

She knew only one could have her but who would it be? The cold Kaoru or the kind Katsumi? Either way she’d have no option but to give one of them a brood.

The dove harpy ultimately came to the obvious decision of Katsumi. The smaller harpy wrapped her arms around the swan with a smile that broke Kaoru’s heart.

“This isn’t over… I will come back for you.” Kaoru told her with a frown before he took off into the sky. He’d scoop her up the moment Katsumi turned his head away and take her to the cliff where she’d never escape…

Katsumi wrapped his arms around her with a big smile. The swan pressed kisses all over her cheeks. He knew she’d choose him… he was so happy.

“I’m so happy… I’m so happy you chose me.” Katsumi was so happy he could cry. “I swear you won’t regret it.

Their wings tangled together while they held each other in a warm embrace. Yes, this was right. This was where she was meant to be… in the sun with Katsumi.

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