#as much as he loathed himself for running away the first time (leaving those who depended on him in danger) he found himself doing it again

[vivivav]

‼️ 14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI ‼️

Are these headcanons? am i theorizing? am i analyzing his character? could these just be kinda writing prompts? god fucking knows atp

Kinda turns into just…. a Renren appreciation post at the end. Love them

- If angel is someone who talks to themselves a lot, Ren would thoroughly enjoy that and sometimes reply as if they were having a conversation, and would frequently even use it as an opportunity to practice their “haruko” persona as he replies to them

- Usually when people are on their electronics they almost never look at the little camera directly, instead focused on the screen but those rare moments where Angel actually looks into the camera, if even for a second it makes Ren breathless because it feels like angel’s looking at him.

- got this one from one of the little fics but whenever angel’s on call with someone, Ren loathes it. Because, they don’t like that angel’s paying so much attention to someone else, but on the other hand they’re close their phone. Talking to someone, laughing, making jokes and having conversation and if Ren tries really hard, they can pretend that angel’s having a conversation with him instead.

- Ren tries to time their eating schedule with Angels occasionally, unless he’s just trying to snack on something. Not JUST because they’d find it relaxing to eat with angel but because he doesn’t want to take time away from staring at angel just so they can eat, he’d prefer to train his body to get hungry when angel gets hungry so they don’t waste even a second of his time with angel

- for day 1; not inviting him over and then choosing to call/text him, you can hear them running away from (what’s presumably) angels door so angel doesn’t hear him talk/type, but they only leaves the SECOND angel calls or texts, not before. Now maybe he wasn’t expecting angel to contact him and was genuinely surprised, or, since angel was on call with Moth, (who was urging angel to talk to Ren…) they saw that angel then went on their phone and either looking at his contact or had the chat pulled up, so maybe he just didnt want to waste even a second not staring at angel. Though, maybe it was more of a mix of both

- His first meeting with angel in the library seeming so akward to angel while Rens brain is going a thousand mph. Mad that his first meeting with them wasn’t the perfect one they imagined, mad that he wasn’t prepared, scared you’ll see right through them BECAUSE he wasn’t prepared, nervous to finally be near angel and have them FINALLY talk to him, trying to come up with an excuse as to WHY he pressed the button in the first place (he did NOT read those pages nor that fucking book i am telling you now), trying to come up with any excuses to keep angel there with them for longer, how to stay with angel, to introduce himself, to hear angels voice more, restraining himself to not go completely haywire off the bat because first impressions matter SO much. Then the second you turn away and he gets eleanor out of the way they have to quickly dig in his pockets (or steal stickynotes from the library counter) to try and come up with something charming to write and have angel read to make them find him cute/approachable/not-fucked-up/your-exact-type

-ecords angels voice sometimes and tried to cut and put the clips together to spell something out for him in angels voice (momentary satisfaction but it’d never beat hearing angel actually say it) (most likely it was either their real name or “i love you” or something cheesy like that. maybe.)

- i know he’s not superstitious but the thought of them coming accross one of those posts of “These initials belong together!!” and NOT seeing his and angels initials in there making them mad is so funny lol. Bonus if he sees someone elses initials with angels (Say, A+L as in Angel and Leon). and they’d get mad and either X out everyone elses combinations and put only him and angels in it or search for one with them in it. He knows logically that it doesn’t mean anything and that it was probably just some kid making a fun video but god forbid having someone elses initials with Angels even with something silly like that

- they’d be one of those boyfriends that if angel as little as looks at something for more than a few seconds he’d ask if they’d want it, or just grab it and buy it right away, or remember it and buy it as a surprise for them later. Angel giving a quick second look at like a shirt or a toy and then continuing to walk and then the next day Ren’s giving it to them because he “thought they’d like it”. This alr kinda happens in game on day 2 but pshh they’d buy it for angel even if they didnt literally pause and stare at it for a minute and a half

- Angel forgetting a password to one of their accounts and complaining about it to Ren, who immediately tells them what it is, only for Angel to be like ??? wtf how’d you know. Or, if they weren’t completely caught up in staring at angel he’d comfort them and tell them that they’ll remember it soon. And then write it down for angel somewhere for them to find easily/ purposefully saying something that kinda sounds like it or would hopefully get angel to remember it, like. If the password was “iloveharuko13” he’d start talking about AOG with them, specifically about haruko’s last appearance

- Angel asking Ren how he’s been today when they’re catching up and him-not even thinking about what he was actually doing today just thinking about how happy they are now that angel’s here- just answering with “i’ve been good! how about you..?” very quickly because he’s eager to hear Angels thoughts. He already knows what they’ve been doing but how they FELT about it and their thoughts on it are much more interesting/important

- The reason he stares at angel so much aside from the obvious is that they’re trying with all his strength to develop mind reading powers /silly /not serious but he mightve actually at least tried this at one point no?

- Angel having a diary would be the equivalent of a bible to him. Its angels raw unfiltered thoughts written out BY them. That’s pure gold and god must’ve blessed Ren if angel decided to keep a “top secret” diary. (if angel complained about someone in said diary he’d keep an eye out for them specifically and try to limit angels interactions with them until they made up or parted ways. Or. something happened to them lol)

- idk i just wanna mention that i love their desperate attempts to just be around angel and have them see him. “Sweet boy”, i say, knowing fully well what he’s done and is capable of

- Occasional Angels cutlery thief. you know why (returns them though) (maybe)

- Him asking in their head over and over again “is this real? am i dreaming?” when angel actually invites him over to their place and what ensues because?? only in his dreams right???

- Ren was practically gritting his teeth when they said “what do you think i’ve been doing since you moved away…” at Leon, i don’t think he was angry because Leon moved (probably actually was really happy upon hearing it- maybe thinking “this is my chance! it’s my turn!”) but because the act of him moving made angel sad. It was more of a “how dare you do something that you knew would hurt angel” while secretly they were glad that Leon moved. another,, “loathe” kinda thing? Hates that angel was hurt but happy that Leon wouldn’t be as much in his way anymore?

- Purposefully sometimes leaves angels windows/doors open just so he could see them come closer to shut it. Very rare for them to do bc he doesn’t wanna make angel like,, paranoid (unless they’d be going to him for comfort and safety… but… maybe that’d only be if he’s really desperate…)

- Thinking abt if they’d ‘coincidentally’ show up on angels double date on day 4 or watch from afar. “haha how funny i didnt know you would be here… with……… them………….mind if i come with since i’m here anyway? haha? ^^” …and then him trying to pull angel away from the rest of the group (especially leon and teo ) so it can be another date with just angel and ren…? perhaps. will patiently wait to see

- I think this is alr canon but i’ll say it anyway; him learning angels favourite foods and learning exactly how to cook them. Yes, they could just order the food in through delivery like he does for himself but they want to impress angel and make it specially for them. I feel like the reason he had the pancake recipe STILL pulled up on their phone even though he was already at the very last step of cooking them was because he wanted to be absolutely certain that they were making them EXACTLY the way angel liked- trying to reference pictures for how they were cooked and plated even though he’s probably got them all memorized by heart- but he just wants to be sure.

- Ren stalks angel but in doing so he also stalks everyone close to angel, of course in completely different ways and completely different reasons but they’d nonetheless know a LOT about the people who angel surrounds themselves with; even without hacking into their belongings and finding every little thing about them (Incase he needs to use this infomation against them… or tell angel)

- ^ adding on that him watching angels friends have other friends and become friends with eachother would probably also be like,, something that makes them at least a little happy. In the way of “If they have eachother then they won’t be around angel as much ^^”

- Ren in absolute distress watching angel get sick BEFORE their meeting in the library. Wanting nothing more than to bend reality itself to make angel better and get them everything they need but knowing that they can’t do that yet. (He’d pray that angel wouldn’t notice that their waterbottle on the nightstand keeps “filling itself up”, some pain meds just “showing up” on said nightstand, the cold towel on their forehead being cold again once they woke up… uh, more… taking-care-of-sick-person-things that i’m forgetting rn…)

- Yk that funny thing you sometimes do when you look directly into the camera on your phone/laptop/ whatever youre on and you say sumn like “i know you’re watching me!!!” as a joke. Like the “fbi in my phone” joke. Yeah. imagine that.

- if angel was an artist and drew ren ( be that in secret or asking him to pose ) He’d probably act really flattered and be all smiles and secretly be running laps around his brain like there is smoke building at the top of their head. Angel, taking time out of their day to stare at Ren (or draw him from memory?) and draw him? HIM? As in. Specifically REN, not haruko??? Bonus if he WATCHES angel draw him, weither that be in secret or not, they’d see just how FOCUSED angel is and the effort they’re putting into drawing him. His heart would explode, probably. (Also if angel is staring at them? yeah. yeah.)

- Not enough people talk about how he was so puppy-eyed upset when Leon called angel “sunfish” right in front of them. Interrupting angel and everything. You could practically FEEL the “:(“ in his little “-sunfish?” and the next words out of their mouth were “-Angelfish and i-“ as if Ren was subtly CHALLENGING Leon and trying to compete with him. How dare he have a special petname just for them? As if Ren hasn’t been calling them ‘Angel’ for his whole life? Does Leon even KNOW what sunfish look like? ‘Angelfish’ is so much smarter and they’re prettier fish. It’s essentially insulting.

- When angel starts showing signs of liking Rens real personality he absolutely overthinks the hell out of it. Because, surely not?? That was just their hopeful thinking? Him hearing things, maybe??? I don’t think Ren would believe angel at first if they started showing interest in his real personality, have to convince him before they even think about it. After all, it’s his haruko persona that finally got your attention after 13 years. Surely you like that more than this freaky creepy emo guy. They’re practically opposites afterall

- Angel making any sort of comment about the future that involves Ren- be it in the next day, week or month, he’d be over the moon. You want to keep them around for that long, that you’re already planning it? Thinking about it? Including him in your daily life and schedule? It’d only further his belief that you are an angel

- Rens mumbling coming from the fact that he doesn’t socialize like at all, and is used to just saying things out loud to angel and talking to themselves. He mumbles and whispers things to himself a lot and i REALLY like that trait abt him, i do the exact same thing

- im sorry i wanna mention i really like his little angry face. Rens little furrowed brow and pout. It’s so perfect and he is NOT shy of using it every single time someone interrupts or even suggests taking angels attention. I pause and stare at them everytime he pulls that little “>:(“ face i adore it sm i love the art in this game.

- Already canon but this mans love for matching with Angel in any way is so fun. If you choose to dress in a “comfy” way they get all happy and like almost celebrate it. “Yes!! i knew you liked softer clothes! I was so right picking this outfit this will surely impress them and have their attention on me!”, in the same breath, if you choose to dress “alternatively”, Ren thinks you look very pretty but then they’re a little pouty that angel’s not matching with him, he specifically chose this outfit for angel and didn’t think they’d be wrong since he knows angel so well

holy god i did NOT just write that much… it just turned into rambling oops. i needa replay again and write more haha here i go

rlly hope i’m not just like horribly wrong about everything lol i CANNOT survive a “he would not fucking say that !!!”

thank you sai for creating Ren and showing him to the world with the rest o’ the crew. They are all so very dear to me 💗

#14dwy ren #14 days with you #14dwy #ren 14 days with you #ren 14dwy

[etheries1015]

MC lives just as lonely as Malleus does, and he thinks to himself...perhaps they could be lonely together?

Loneliness was not something you were unaccustomed to, and perhaps your hopes got a little too high coming to NRC. Although you had Grim Ace and Deuce on the occasion, the majority of students pretended as if you did not exist. This was fine, you said. It isn't different than before. You were used to not particularly having many friends, keeping to yourself, and guarding your heart from the world. You could not be open as you had dreamed of being, for every time you had shown your true nature, being turned away from had become the norm in your life.

But loneliness can fester and turn into self-loathing, tears sprinkling down your cheeks as you sat on the little broken bench in front of Ramshackle, staring out into the dark emptiness of the worn-down garden that hadn't been tended to for quite some time. You could truly sympathize with the garden- perhaps a few people came here and there to tend to the flowers, yet eventually everyone leaves, desolate and alone the floral slowly wither away into nothing. Much as yourself, growing thorns around your battered heart, for being alone is better than being betrayed by the lies of those who claim to care.

However you convince yourself to continue on, choking down those ugly emotions by painting a smile and playing one big game of pretend- for nobody likes to hear the woes of a person known to be an optimist and the face of a proper prefect; their world or otherwise.

Malleus, however, knew that face all too well. He knew from the moment he first met you in the front gates of your run-down dorms, although you spoke to him like any other student, he could see you and him were alike; surrounded by fake smiles and false pretenses of friendship for their benefit or enjoyment. He understood the differences between realness and a front, a mask he noticed you often put on in front of everyone else. Yet with him... you were very much real, and honest, despite sheltering the deepness of your personality in the depths of your heart you hadn't made it a point to lie to the prince as you had gotten to become close to him. He desperately found himself wanting to know you- pulling apart the layers, he wanted to learn more about who you were, about the things you liked, how you felt, how to see the world, to finally rid himself of his loneliness by inviting another to share his burdens; and he was terrified of it all the same.

Malleus grew up understanding his duties and knowing the facade he had to put on in front of everyone else- he knew he had to be the perfect prince, a leader, the face of a country, and the spokesperson of his people. Yet around you...he was free to talk about anything and everything under the sun and moon without judgment, without fear of tainting his name, without the shackles of princehood holding him down. He had people fear him, running away at the simple sight of his horns, and avoiding him as if Malleus were the plague himself. He knew he was destined to be truly alone- that was, until he found someone to be himself around. Although you were often by your lonesome and kept to yourself, you had always found a way to lift his spirits, smiling at him with genuine interest rather than the plastic he was sick of staring at.

That is why he was utterly shocked when he found you staring at the garden, tears pooling down your cheeks with that same look he had been all that familiar with. He had quietly sat next to you on the bench, noticing your melancholic gaze not leaving the garden although you now had company beside you. Together you sat in the silence of understanding, until you had taken a shaky breath and choked out a feeble cry of help.

"I'm tired of being lonely," Was all you said. Malleus felt his hand creep over to yours, gently grasping it and squeezing it with a slight tremble.

"You do not have to be," He said, turning his emerald eyes to stare into your own, "I...am here now." You pursed your lips and nodded slightly, leaning your body against the tall Faes strong build. There was not much to say, not much to do, yet in contrast it seemed as if the puzzle had simple put itself together in one aura of familiarity and assimilation without verbal articulation .

Silence reigned once more...two solitary souls finding comfort in one another's presence.

...For however long it'll last.

#Twisted wonderland #twst #Twisted wonderland x reader #Malleus #Malleus x reader #Malleus draconia x reader #Twst headcannons #twisted wonderland headcannons #Tired of finding solace in video games #Kind of self induldgent ngl

[won4ver]

please do cheated niki ( He deceived you and did not tell you, and one day you discovered it ) please

✈︎ it was a mistake

pairing : bf!riki x gn!reader

warnings + genre : angst. cheating. no comfort. slight profanity.

wc : 655

a/n : i’ve never written about [actual] cheating before so I hope this meets your expectations!! please lmk how I did🙏

read part two here

Torrents of heat licked down your skin, your tears leaving burning streaks of crimson as they mixed with the sprouts of acid-spewing from your palms.

You shakily swiped from photo to photo, fingers akin to jelly barely tracing the silhouette of the man who you’d recognized right away, the man who’s been lying to your face for months.

“Why did you do it?” You could barely feel anything outside of your pulsating heart, Riki’s silence sounding louder than rain pelting down outside the car window.

At first, Riki was unsure about what you were talking about, naively trying to convince himself that you hadn’t found out. But by the look in your eyes, he knew you did.

“Did I really mean that little to you that you had to go find someone else?” Self-doubt was evil, but it still didn’t hurt as much as Riki’s infidelity.

“It was a mistake” Your heart broke as your boyfriend didn’t even attempt to deny the claims.

Vile rose up your throat at the look in his eyes, looking at you as if you were the one who broke his heart.

“A mistake? How the fuck do you accidentally kiss my best friend?”

“She was the first one to kiss me!” Riki nearly shouted, excuses halting as he processed the look of disbelief on your face. He knew he messed up the moment he accidentally let the complete truth come out, the angel on his shoulder’s wings detaching as the horns of the devil grew.

“First time? You’ve kissed her more than once?” You couldn’t help the bitter laugh from leaving your lips, eyes closing as you attempted to calm yourself before you made this situation worse.

Riki knew better than to lie. He knew you deserved more than what he wanted to give you to protect his image. He just nodded at you, his sincere apologies leaving his mouth through the cracks of the tape his mind attached to his lips.

“I don’t forgive you.” You tried to respond but faced difficulty due to your face in your hands, thumbs wiping the tears from your eyes.

You flinched away in disgust as Riki tried wiping your tears for you, lips pulling up in a grimace as you glared at him, “I’ll never forgive you.”

Riki tried not to break down knowing the words that would soon follow, his body absorbing your disgust as the waves drowned him.

“I never want to see you again, get the hell out of my house.”

Riki didn’t know when he allowed himself to turn this way. He was becoming, no, he became the same monster that he’d spent his life running from. The exact one lurking deep in his closet as he heard his father's adultery through his thin walls.

At some point in time, those walls became the ones that closed around his mind, locking him into the same cage that his father locked himself in years ago.

He wanted nothing more than to go back in time. Go far enough to stop himself from getting mixed up with your best friend after she found him crying from one of your arguments. But he didn’t hate her, at least not as much as he hated himself.

The first time he touched her was a mistake, one that caused him to scrub his entire body raw for weeks. The filth her hands left on his arms, the one that transferred onto his lips, the one that made its way through his heart, was nothing more than the same filth that filled his father.

He became the one person he swore he never wanted to become, the man who was once the person Riki loathed the most. But now, he himself is now at the top of his list.

And so he left, he left the one thing he’d ever loved in the world and there was no one to blame but himself.

#won4ver ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི #won4ver ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི requests! #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #enhypen ff #enhypen angst #enhypen ni ki angst #ni ki angst #enhypen niki angst #niki angst #nishimura riki angst #riki angst #riki enhypen #enhypen riki #kpop scenarios #enhypen angst scenarios #enhypen nishimura riki #nishimura riki x reader #nishimura riki oneshot #ni ki oneshot #niki oneshot #niki x reader #niki x you #niki x y/n #enhypen drabbles #kpop drabbles #enhypen oneshots #enhypen ni ki #niki enhypen #enhypen niki

[luna-writes-stuff]

Run To The Water, Lucifer

Song link

Fanfic, gn! reader (more OC, but no specific appearances/names/pronouns are mentioned!)

Fluff, reunion, lore-heavy

Word count: 3826

Tw: mention of injuries, constant lower back pain (because I know I’m not the only one who struggles with this), some a la Prometheus eternal punishment thing. Mutual longing, God is an asshole. I think I swore maybe two times? Again - more OC than reader, but not entirely so idk. Not proofread.

Summary: Before mankind, there were angels and there was you. But unlike the angels, you weren’t created by God’s hands, and he loathed you for it. He used you as an inspiration for humans before trying to get rid of you. Now, years later, your favourite angel is running free again. And he comes to seek you out.

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

Oh, desert speak to my heart. Oh, woman of the earth. Maker of children who weep for love. Maker of this birth.”

In the beginning, before mankind and capitalism and whatnot, Earth was a simple run ground for god and his angels. They got to run haywire, create things, destroy things, whatever would ‘inspire’ God, as he had put it. He came to create light, life, death - everything. But through everything he had made and everything he had prided himself on, he had never created you. You came into existence long before the humans, from a source no one truly knew. He could have left you there to rot: something that wasn’t his. It was almost an insult. Yet something about you made him give in, caused him to offer you shelter where his angels would be safe.

And as much as he initially hated you, he saw something in him that his angels didn’t show him: inspiration for his greatest creation yet. He kept you close only leaving you around his four most trusted sons when he was away. It never felt like a prison to you.

It didn’t, until Adam and Eve were created.

As they set their first steps on Earth, you were approached by a group of angels, claiming they were there to ‘escort you out’. You had followed them, had it not been for Lucifer, and his distrust towards his siblings. God had seen your purpose fit - you had become his greatest inspiration, mankind; an improved version of you. Or that is what he had believed. You were not his creation, therefore did not deserve to set foot on his land. And after he had realised his greatest invention, it was time to get rid of ‘that which was left’.

“'Til your deepest secrets are known to me, I will not be moved. I will not be moved.”

Lucifer had helped you hide from his father and siblings, making sure you were safe as they scavenged the Earth. For years, this worked. Humans evolved - though slowly - and Lucifer’s temper had begun to grow significantly worse.

It was after only a handful of decades that you were finally found. In his act of cruelty, God made his favourite son execute his ‘dumbest decision’, still unaware of the fact that it had been Lucifer who had kept you hidden all these years. That is when he snapped. He belittled humans, claiming them to be a cheap copy of you - which had held truth in it - and needy. God forgot his first children just to be able to rule his new playthings.

It was that fateful day that had led to his downfall. He was cast down from Heaven, forced to live upon the place that housed the creatures he hated most. He tried to rule Hell for a while, making sure you had still been safe. Even after centuries of humans coming into existence, angels kept looking for you everywhere. And though the search had significantly faded over time, you knew that if you were to announce your presence, they’d try to get rid of you as quickly as they could.

Many had believed you had died in those years. Though not nearly ageing as quickly as humans, you surely couldn’t be immortal. The opposite was proven when the angels landed their attack on Lucifer. It was when you had finally been captured, that Lucifer’s strength slowly began to face, until he was banished to the cage.

Since then, he hadn’t known what had happened to you, nor where you had been. And in his eyes, that had been a worse punishment than being kept in a cage.

“Don't try to find the answer When there ain't no question here. Brother, let your heart be wounded And give no mercy to your fear.”

God couldn’t kill you - the weakling. Instead, he stripped you off all that made you divine, save for your ageing process. You were forced to stay on Earth and live out the rest of your eternal life without a branch of special on you. You were quick to find out God had kept angels in your street, keeping constant vigilance. If you were to even say the wrong thing, he’d know.

It took a long time for you to adjust to simply living on the streets as everyone did. You had to reinvent yourself a ton of times in order to keep up the facade of being a mortal woman. But after a while, you learned to maintain a normal job, pay bills (as God had so horribly intended), make new friends, watch them grow old and happy, then ‘die’ of a sudden cardiac arrest. And the cruellest of it all, was the fact you couldn’t die, even if you wanted to. God would find a way to bring you back.

An eternal punishment for simply existing.

“Adam and Eve live down the street from me. Babylon is every town. It's as crazy as it's ever been. Love's a stranger all around.”

It was late when you returned home from work. One of the cons of turning more mortal was the constant ache in your lower back, and your incapability to heal it. All you really wanted to do when you came home was fall into your bed and not get out for a long time.

The walk home was silent, but what caught you off-guard was the lack of eyes on you. For the first time in decades, you didn’t have the constant feeling of being watched. And it caused an unsettling shiver to run down your spine. Angels weren’t one to give up on their tasks - not without a significant threat. And if it had taken them out, you weren’t safe to begin with.

With a quicker pace, you walked onto your patio, your keys gripped tightly in your hands in case someone would try to sneak up on you. Unlocking the door, you walked in, immediately locking it behind you. A long sigh escaped you when you heard the satisfactory click.

Kicking your shoes off and hanging your coat over a chair, you waltzed towards the couch, falling down onto it with an obnoxious huff. You turned the tv on, staring at the screen blankly, the words not fully registering.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, something told you you were not alone. And though that usually brought a terrifying chill, this seemed somewhat comfortable.

“In a moment we lost our minds here, And lay our spirit down. Today we lived a thousand years. All we have is now.”

You sat upright, now scanning the room more intently. From the corner of your eye, you could see something move in the kitchen, followed by a light amount of noise. Not turning the tv off, you carefully walked towards the source, turning your head around the corner first.

You didn’t recognise the man in the kitchen. You did, however, recognise the faint glow emanating from him. No human held that glow, not unless their body was being used by someone else.

The scrubbing on the jacket halted, and you now noticed the bloodstains on it. You frowned at the sight, then dropped your shoulders as you noticed the small pile of already red-stained towels. When the man turned around, you came face to face with him, and it suddenly began to click why the room had felt so comfortable.

“Lucifer?”

“Run to the water And find me there. Burnt to the core but not broken.”

“You’re alive,” he breathed, before dropping the towel and walking up to you, pulling you into his figure. You hesitantly returned the embrace, still half in shock of what had just happened. For years, you believed God had killed his son, leaving you alive in terrible mockery, but the opposite was proven now. And in his eyes, he believed you had died as well. He went out on a gut feeling and found exactly what he had been looking for.

When his hands tightened on your back, you finally yielded, vehemently returning the embrace, burying your head in his chest. “You’re alive,” He repeated, one of his hands trailing to your hair, running his hand through it softly, as if frightened that notion would break you.

As you parted, his eyes remained on you, trailing over your figure as if to properly observe you. “You haven’t changed at all,” He muttered, before he took you into his embrace again. “I thought you died,” You managed to whisper, your eyes glued to his wings that had now become apparent.

“The feeling is mutual,” He sighed, keeping you at arm’s length when you heard a car pass by. His eyes trailed to the window, an instant glare building on his face. “We need to get out of here. Don’t worry about the angels,” He spoke in one breath, before looking at you again. “I took care of them.” “I figured,” You nodded, still at loss for words.

“We'll cut through the madness Of these streets below the moon. These streets below the moon.”

Outside, you heard car doors open, followed by heavy footsteps, walking towards your porch. “Lucifer,” A gruff voice cut through the tense silence. On the other side of your kitchen stood another person, one you easily recognised as angel. You furrowed your eyes at him in anger, all too familiar with angels and the way they perceived you. You didn’t miss the slight smile on Lucifer’s face as he looked at the angel.

“Too late, little brother.”

And with that, the two of you had left your home, now suddenly in the middle of a forest. You looked around quickly, your stomach churning as the brief travel ended. Your knees buckled underneath you, your hands extending to break your fall. Nausea settled in you as you tried to regain your breath, remaining hunched over. Lucifer observed you from a distance, his hands in his pockets.

“So,” He began, his voice slightly uncomfortable. “You mortal now?” You looked over your shoulder, sparing him a mocking smile: “Consider it your father’s greatest gift.”

His eyebrows raised the words, silently cursing his father for your punishment. “At least he didn’t kill you.” “Bastard couldn’t do it,” You muttered. “Claimed I reminded him too much of you.” “He’s always so sentimental.” Lucifer agreed.

“And I will never leave you, 'Til we can say, this world was just a dream. We were sleepin', now we are awake 'Til we can say.”

When you remained on the floor, your breathing unsteady, the fallen angel walked towards you. He frowned lightly at the sight of your discomfort. “You okay?” A groan came from you as you tried to sit upright, pain shooting through your lower back. “Just peachy.”

Lucifer’s lips formed in a thin line, observing your figure. “Right,” He spoke sarcastically. Then, he reached down, holding his hands on your shoulder. When he didn’t do anything else, you looked at him confused. The angel seemed conflicted, looking at you as if he was expecting you to say or do anything. When you didn’t say anything, he took a step back: “I can’t heal you.”

You sighed at that. Naturally, God decided to screw you over even more. “Curse that asshole,” You mumbled on your breath, before clumsily rising to your feet again. When you stumbled slightly, Lucifer’s hands found your waist quickly, keeping you in place.

“I’m fine.” You objected, even though your hands were now holding onto his lower arms. “Yeah, no.” He deadpanned, keeping you steady. “How the mighty have fallen.” You looked up through your lashes as he spoke those words.

“Don’t remind me.”

“In a moment we lost our minds here And dreamt the world was round. A million miles fall from grace. Thank God we missed the ground.”

He looked down at you for a short second before the scenery changed again. That same nauseating feeling entered your stomach as you fell down on something soft. You groaned in pain, curling up, almost as if trying to protect yourself. For a second, you forgot you were around Heaven’s most wanted, and simply laid down, taking a moment to regain your posture.

“No, this is amazing.” You objected as you sat up, now seeing you had landed in some kind of fancy five-star hotel room. It was then that you noticed you had fallen onto a huge bed, the blankets shifting underneath you. You looked at Lucifer with questioning eyes, not understanding why you were suddenly somewhere else.

“Humans need rest.” He just spoke, sitting on a chair next to the bed. “I’ll be fine.” You disagreed, preparing to get off the bed. Before you could set a foot on the floor, Lucifer shook his head, grabbing a book from seemingly nowhere.

“No, you won’t,” He sighed. “I’ll just wait here, I guess.”

“Run to the water And find me there. Burnt to the core, but not broken.”

You simply stared at him. Only minutes ago you were still convinced of his death, well-adjusted to a simple mortal life. And without preparation, he had appeared in your kitchen and whisked you away to who knows where.

You blinked twice at the realisation. You thought he was dead for years. And there he sat, directly in front of you. As if nothing had happened. Noting your eyes still on him, Lucifer looked at you from his seat: “What?” “They told me you died,” You breathed. “I thought I would be the only one left at the end of time.”

He lowered his book upon your words, an unsure expression on his face. You began to grow concerned you might have said the wrong thing. Who knew what he had been through all those years? It mustn't have been easy for him either. “Thought I’d be locked in a cage forever,” He ultimately spoke, halting your concerns. “Had to go through daily torment of mentioning my fall and your death to me.”

Though he spoke in a sarcastic tone, you knew his words were genuine. And as him, you did your best to lighten the situation. You could feel the conflict and pain radiating off of him, but you weren’t going to mention it to him. Not now. Instead, you spoke: “Guess our deaths were a little exaggerated.”

“We'll cut through the madness Of these streets below the moon. With a nuclear fire of love in our hearts.”

“Well, at least there’s still one good thing in this world.” He shrugged, and you couldn’t help but smile at his words, a heartfelt expression crossing your features. At your face, Lucifer slowly shook his, holding his hands up: “No. Forget I said anything,” Pointing towards your smiling figure, he gave you an accusing look. “That was a moment of weakness.”

You didn’t tease him about it. Perhaps later you would mention it again. For now, you just enjoyed his presence, his stupid remarks something you had missed for a very long time. When your smile finally faded, Lucifer just looked at you, his expression relatively neutral, even though you could feel the fondness in his gaze. Be that as it may, the words he spoke weren’t fond in any way. If anything, they had caught you off-guard.

“I’m gonna burn this place down. Restart the world in my image.” Ah yes, the infamous Apocalypse. Of course, you couldn’t forget about that. It was foretold. If anything, you had an idea the angels were planning something for a while now. They had begun to grow more secretive and silent over the last few months. You first thought they had started losing interest in you, but that had not been the case. They were simply preparing for a rematch with Lucifer.

You couldn’t help but understand his views, especially considering what the both of you had gone through in your history. Though your views hadn’t always been the same, you wanted to be at his side. It was the safest you had ever been, nor would ever be.

“Yeah, I can see it now, Lord Out beyond all the breakin' of waves And the tribulation.”

“What would that be?” You asked, to which Lucifer nonchalantly shrugged. “Less humans, more lightsabers.” Though he seemed fond of that idea, you didn’t laugh at it. “Maybe I’ll just wipe this world off the map. We could run to a remote planet.”

You couldn’t help but remain silent at his words, just staring at him, not sure what to do or say. And he had noticed, an oblivious ‘what’ coming out of his mouth. You blinked twice, forcing yourself back to reality. “I’ve spent lifetimes here now,” You answered, your voice much more gentle than you had intended. “I don’t know, there’s good things here too.”

He raised his eyebrows at your statement, testing your words. “Like what?” You shrugged. “I really like dogs.” “We can keep the dogs.” He quickly added, but so did you: “Music is pleasant.” “I’ll find a way.” He continued, to which you groaned in objection.

“Lucifer, humans aren’t evil.” “They’re a faulty copy of you!” He returned angrily. Not at you, but at his father. For daring to mock you in such a brutal way. For the way he wanted to get rid of you once he copied you to make his own creation. “A cheap replication.” He continued to rant. “I don’t want cheap replications when I can have the real thing.”

“It's a place and the home of ascended souls Who swam out there in love.”

“Thank you,” You whispered, unsure of what to answer, but you knew compliments were hard to come by from him. Even though that was true, you couldn’t help but already feel remorseful for losing the life you had known so well for the last few years. Sure, it had been torture for you, but all good moments came from humanity.

“I know the apocalypse is inevitable,” You tried to persuade, laying back down onto the bed. “But think it over.” With that, you turned around, facing your back to him.

“Think it over?” Lucifer repeated incredulously. “Humans are terrible! Have you not caught up with history of the last few years?” “I’ve lived it.” You called over your shoulder, not mad at him. In fact, you had grown kind of disappointed and sad upon the thought of humanity fading from existence. You knew Lucifer could actually do it if he really put the effort into it. “Humans aren’t inherently evil,” You went on. “If I remember correctly, it were the angels who wanted to kill everything.”

He was silent for a moment. Longer than you were used from him. You started to wonder if he might have left. Surely, he wouldn’t have done that.

“Run to the water And find me there. Burnt to the core, but not broken.”

“And that’s why they’ll go too.” He suddenly spoke, now laying next to you on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You let out of quiet sigh of relief upon his figure, scooting closer to him, but not enough to touch him just yet.

“And live in a world with just the two of us?” You tested. “Wouldn’t that grow…tedious?” You trailed off slightly, knowing you could speak your mind in front of the devil without risking him smiting you. Yet, it felt as if you were cursing him whilst he was directly in front of you.

“Tedious?” He echoed, chuckling as his head turned to face yours, silently assuring you he wasn’t insulted at all. In fact, it had entertained him slightly. You returned his smile, a light feeling entering your stomach upon finally seeing his joy again.

You remained laying there for a second, bathing in the glee of simply having you with him. The feeling seemed mutual, as you watched one of his wings wrap around your figure, pulling you against his body whilst his wing remained draped over you. His arm pulled you into his side, his hand coming to a rest on your side.

His touch was cold, though welcomed. You figured hell must have done a number on him - he had never been cold to touch before.

“We'll cut through the madness Of these streets below the moon. With a nuclear fire of love in our hearts.”

“Well,” He started, thinking out loud. “I could take over Heaven. Rule the string puppets from up there.” You placed your hand on his chest in agreement, a smile crossing your features as you pictured the demise of the angels who have taunted you and haunted you for centuries: “I am all for taking Heaven over.”

The angel chuckled at your comment, rubbing your skin in repeating patterns. “I know you are.”

Then, a second silence struck the pair of you, this one more comfortable, void of any tension of disagreement. The breathing of his chest was a soothing notion for you, all nausea from earlier now finally fading away. The ache in your lower back seemed to calm down slightly on the soft mattress. You silently wondered if Lucifer had felt it when he tried to heal you and got you something that would help with it.

“I’ve missed you so much,” He sighed, slight melancholy in the tone of his voice. “No one else will pay attention to me.” “You egocentric bastard,” You joked, getting comfortable in his arms.

“I missed you too, Lucifer.”

“Rest easy baby, rest easy. And recognize it all as light and rainbows, Smashed to smithereens and be happy.”

Perhaps it had been due to the adrenaline wearing off, you finally being in his arms again, or the fact that you simply had a very tiring day, but your eyelids grew heavier with every breath you took. Falling asleep in your earlier surroundings had always been difficult for you: angels were watching your every move. It was hard to feel safe under the gaze of those who swore to kill you not too long ago.

However, for the first time in a very long time, you finally felt safe. The familiar feeling of his heavy wing draped around you and his looming presence seemed to bring some special sense of comfort that you had longed for for so long.

And thus, Lucifer would spend the rest of the night in his new vessel, staring up at the ceiling for hours on end, not moving, just for you to get a healthy amount of sleep. Talking could happen later, and he had all the time in the world. His siblings wouldn’t find him. Not if he didn’t want to be found. And now, he wanted nothing more than to simply be forgotten by them and remain there.

Right there at that exact moment, he felt peace - something that he hadn’t felt in a long time, and wouldn’t feel again not much later.

“Run to the water. Run to the water.”

#November writings 2023 #spn #supernatural #lucifer #spn lucifer #lucifer spn #lucifer x reader #spn lucifer x reader

[cat-mentality]

I do actually like the idea of the eggs running away from a bigger danger.

I like the idea of them being scared, although not because of the enemy itself.

Imagine they know about this danger. Those tiny children wearing armor heavier than themselves, armed with the best weapons their parents could give them, fully aware of all the plans in case of an attack, ready to go to N.I.N.H.O. at the first drop of rain, and whatever threat looms in the horizon makes them frightened.

Not about themselves.

About their parents.

They know those people. They know how deeply they are loved. They know how far they are willing to go to protect them.

Little Pomme with a weapon as big as herself. Little French Sniper who follows her father around dangerous dungeons, who can fight better than the adults. Little girl who loves her parents so very much, who sees how hard they fight to protect her, to make sure she keeps her two lives.

Little Pomme who knows the code told her father Etoiles to protect people. Who looks at him and fears, who wonders how many times he will die, how many times he will suffer, how many times he will sacrifice himself to ensure others' safety. Her safety.

Little Pomme who sees how deeply her mom cares. How hard she fights for the ones she loves and who wonders how much of herself her mom would give for her sake. Little Pomme who doesn't want to be a burden.

Little Dapper who knows his father has darkness inside of himself, who knows better than anyone how hard he fights every day to keep it hidden and controlled. Who knows that Badboy Halo would unleash that darkness upon the world for his sake.

Little brave boy who knows that doing so would ruin his father, would break a part of his soul, would make him drown in self loathing. Little Dapper who just wants to protect his father from himself.

Little Ramon who builds bombs for fun, who understands exactly how harsh and cruel the world can be because he sees the scars it left on his father, who knows how much Fit does to ensure that that cruelty never reaches him, who makes sure he knows how loved he is, how important, how he is the light of his father's life.

Little selfless boy who has watched his father open his heart to other people as well, who has seen him start to laugh and smile and live. Who is so very scared that his father will exchange what little peace and happiness he found just to ensure that Ramon is safe, that he is happy, uncaring of the effects of himself. Little Ramon who just wants his father to find peace.

Little Richarlyson who has seen so much pain and tragedies in such a short amount of time. Little explorer who has so many people to love him, who knows from the bottom of his soul that they would never leave him alone, that has been reassured over and over again of how important he is.

Little darling boy who already saw his parents grieve once. Who saw them cry over another little boy, who knows first hand how hard that affected them, who has seen them hurt and sad so many different times, who is fully aware of how they see him as a light in their lives. Little Richarlyson who doesn't want to be a source of pain.

Little Chayenne, the oldest, so brave, so selfless, so protective. Who sees how hard his father fights to keep them safe, how much he worries, who understands so very well that both of his fathers are so familiar with loss, so familiar with the pain caused by loving someone and yet still opened their hearts to him.

Little warrior boy who doesn't want people hurting for his sake, who saw enough of it already, who dreads the idea of standing back while those he loves so very dearly sacrifice themselves for his sake, who still has nightmares about screams telling him to stay back, to run, to hide, while blood coats the floor. Little Chayenne who just wants to protect his family.

Little Tallulah who loves so dearly, so kindly, so softly, who thinks flowers can bring so much joy, who swallows her pain to avoid making others sad. Who still waits for a beloved person to come back, but who now realizes how many more love and care about her, who opened her heart to them.

Little sweet girl who knows she isn't a fighter, knows she needs more attention, who is terrified of the idea that someone would need to sacrifice themselves for her sake, who would rather die than be the reason someone else does, who understands that is the choice the adults would make but who would never accept that. Little Tallulah who doesn't want to be alone.

Little Leonarda who has her parents as her best friends. Who keeps to herself but who pays so much attention to what is happening around her, who understands her parents in ways no one else can, who sees how hard they fight to keep others happy and focused on their goals even if their methods are rather strange.

Little princess girl who doesn't want to see the light go out of her father's smile, who doesn't want to cause them to worry, who wants them to be together, who trusts that they will always have each other to keep company, who doesn't want them to worry about those things, about her. Little Leonarda who wants to keep her parents happy.

Little children who love so much and who are so very loved back doing the only thing they can think of to protect those who have protected them so many times already.

Imagine the desperation of the Federation when they discover that the children ran away and left behind their items. The ones they use to monitor their location, to keep them under surveillance.

And it explains so much doesn't it?

How much they are denying everything, how they refuse to talk about it at all unless forced to, how they pretend nothing is happening, how far they are going to create distractions to force the players to focus on anything else but their kids.

The Risus pills are not a carefully laid out plan, a move made to control the Islanders and keep them calm and docile.

They are a move made out of desesperation.

Forever swears he will burn down the Island so they are forced to give him his son back.

He does burn down the Island when they fail to do so, swears he will do it over and over again how many times it takes.

But the Federation doesn't have the eggs.

They can't stop Forever, they can't keep undoing his destruction over and over again, they can't keep Philza from wrecking havoc, they can't keep Cellbit from poking where he shouldn't, all the parents, all the Islanders are out of control now and the Federation is desperate.

They don't have the one thing that would restore order.

They are not ignoring the demands of the parents because they don't want to listen to them. They are doing it because they can't give them what they want.

The only thing they can do is damage control. Is rebuilding the destroyed buildings and lands, is pretending everything is perfect and normal.

Is drugging Forever.

They make him happy.

They make him forget his son is missing so that they can stop him from destroying everything. They drug Pac. They make sure everyone is busy trying to fix that issue. They nerf the machines so they will take time to fix them.

They need time.

They need to find the eggs and they need to restore order.

The Federation lost control.

And that is the one thing that scares them the most.

Because if the Islanders realize it, if they figure out they don't have the eggs, then what? What stops them from breaking the rules, from tearing their buildings down block by block? The eggs are their way of controlling the players, of keeping them happy yes, but mostly of keeping them afraid.

And now that control is gone.

And it's the Federation who is afraid.

#oh yeah im actually so feral about the idea that the eggs ran away #bc on one hand no fucking way #but on the other #what if #what would make those children leave #and this is what i came with #qsmp #qsmp writing #qsmp analysis #its both okay #half fic half theory #The Federation #qsmp eggs

[klbwriting]

Broken Prism

Chapter 18

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x female!Reader

Warnings: intrusive thoughts, self-loathing

Summary: Jason does not do well when left to his own thoughts

Notes: this is angsty af

Bruce didn’t let Jason do anything for two weeks after the attack from Penguins men. It annoyed the hell out of him, pacing the halls of Wayne manor, unable to do anything while the rest of the house was able to go about their daily lives. YN was trying to make time for him but with Penguin’s arrest she was asked to see what else she could get now that more people were willing to talk so she was always working. Tim was at school, Dick in Bludhaven, Bruce at Wayne Enterprises. Jason had Alfred, who honestly was the most mysterious person in the house, leaving in the morning and not back until right before Bruce returned. Jason was going crazy, and he needed to escape, unplug for a while. So, he did.

Bruce had gotten Jason a new bike of course so once he felt up to it, he decided to take it for a spin, outside the city. He rode for a couple hours, putting solid distance between himself and Gotham, breathing a little easier away from the streets and the crime and the general despair that always seem to settle on the city. The lakefront town was nice, and no one bothered him as he hiked around the lake, finding a spot near the water to just sit and be still.

“There has got to be more to what I’m doing,” he whispered to himself. He still struggled so much with his role in the world now. He was a killer, well, a reformed killer at the moment, but a killer no less. He had made New Gotham the safest place in the city, had found his soulmate, reunited with his family, but something was still broken inside him. He could feel it, those shards of himself, the darkest, sharpest parts, that struggled to stay in, wanting to pierce through his chest and destroy him. No amount of care and love from those around him seemed to make that go away. Dr. Thompkins told him that everyone had those parts to them, that they were hard to deal with, but he could cope with them. It was the why bother he was having trouble with. Why bother getting better? No one really loved him. Even YN, that was because some insane twist of fate had put her there. If he didn’t give her color, she wouldn’t even care about him. Bruce, Dick, Tim, all of them. He was a tool, something to use. Why bother with him? He was just some urchin from Crime Alley who was born to be bad. He was of cursed stock, mother an addict, father a loser, he wasn’t better than that, just trash. He tried to push back these thoughts, he wanted to get them to leave them alone, he really did. But they came back stronger every time, and the laugh that chorused with them was more than anyone could take. He was trying, he really was, but he knew that soon something would need done.

He needed to face Joker. He needed to kill him. Bruce wouldn’t do it, fool that he was, but Jason would.

By the time he got back to the mansion it was dark outside, quiet, but when he got inside the silence was eerie. He wasn’t sure what was going on. He searched the house and found no one so he went to the cave where it was a different story. Everyone was yelling, even Alfred.

“You were supposed to fix his tracker…” “I did fix it! He’s not wearing it!” “I swear if someone else has him I am going to punch all of you!” “Shut up Dick! I get to punch everyone first!” “Can we all just calm down?”

“Um, what’s going on?” Jason asked, making everyone stop their tirades and look at him. Soon the men turned, looking from Jason towards YN. She pushed passed them and when Tim went to follow Bruce held him back. She walked up to Jason and shoved him hard.

“What in the fuck were you thinking?! You run off without leaving a note, you don’t take your phone! What the hell is wrong with you!” she yelled, shoving him again and again, each time getting weaker until she was just hugging him, arms gripping his waist as tight as she could. After a moment he heard some sniffles and felt his shirt getting wet. He didn’t realize she would worry like this. No one cared about him this much.

“I just…needed to get out of my head a little bit, get out of the city…” he said, trying to explain. He tried to pry her arms from him, but she held on tighter.

“No, I’m never letting you go again,” she said. “You’re not trustworthy anymore.” Jason looked at the others, searching and finding the same kind of worry on their faces and he looked down. This wasn’t right. He wasn’t right. He didn’t deserve this at all. He fucked everything up. Why did they care? Why should they care? He wasn’t worthy.

“Why do you care so much anyway?” he snapped, finally getting YN to let go of him. He stepped back and she stared at him like he’d shot her. “All of you, why would any of you care about me?” He shook his head, turning and heading back upstairs. YN followed him but he made sure to close the elevator door on her, cursing himself for the hurt he saw on her face. He really was just a worthless piece of garbage. Who hurts the person they love like that? He does. He went to his room, locking the door and ignoring the knocking. First it was YN, then Alfred, then Tim, the Dick, the Bruce. He sat in his room for hours, trying to figure out a way to finish this. Finish everything. He would go down fighting Joker, take the bastard with him. If he died YN would be fine, she said so herself, she had the memories, that was enough. He got up and went to the door, opening it and YN fell backward into his room.

“Finally,” she said, standing up and dusting herself off.

“What are you doing?” Jason asked. She cocked her head to the side and moved to pick up a tray of food by the door. Jason didn’t move.

“Get back in your room, we’re going to eat together, or I’m spilling this right onto the carpet and the stain will drive you crazy,” she said. Jason considered his options for a minute, but when she started to tilt the tray towards him, he relented and stepped back into the bedroom, letting her in. She set the tray on the small table in the room and took a seat, getting it ready for him. Everything he loved was on that tray. He felt himself warming a little at the thought of what Alfred had done for him. Doesn’t mean anything, just wanting to shut you up for a while. He winced like he had been slapped.

“How bad is it?” YN asked as Jason sat down. He looked at the ground, not wanting to look at her. She looked afraid of him. God why had he made her afraid of him?

“Haven’t had a day like this in years,” he said softly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. He shook his head. “Ok.” She sat back and when he still didn’t look up. “I’ll go, just please eat something.” She stood, moving to walk past him but he grabbed her hand.

“Don’t go,” he said softly. He felt her relaxed, her hand squeezing his before she sat down again. He finally looked at her. “Do you feel cheated knowing that I’m your soulmate?”

“No, I feel incredibly lucky that I have a soulmate like you,” she said. He grunted a laugh. “I mean it Jason.”

“Why? Besides the color, what have I possibly done for you to earn you?” he asked. She frowned.

“Why do you think you need to earn me?” she asked. “I’m not a paycheck, neither are you. You’re there Jason, you exist in this world, and that’s all I need you to do, is exist. I appreciate everything extra that you do for me, but just existing is enough.” He stared at her.

“Only because I saved you, I was Robin, now I’m Red Hood, take that away…”

“And I’d still love you. I don’t love Robin or Red Hood, in fact sometimes I downright hate them because it’s terrifying knowing you’re out there and could die…again…at any moment. If you took off the helmet and the armor I would still love you. Jason Peter Todd is the man I love, hell, even if you weren’t my soulmate I would love you,” she said. Jason looked away again, not wanting her to see him being this emotional. She reached out and turned his face back to her. “Jason, I love you.” He took a breath and stared at her, not finding a lie, a half-truth, sarcasm, nothing but care in her face.

“I wish I could feel that way about myself,” he said. She moved over and he pulled her into his lap, hugging her around the waist, head on her shoulder. She ran her fingers through his hair, her other hand gently caressing his cheek.

“Let me feel that way for you then, I can tell you about how it feels. Being Jason Todd is being a good son, a better brother, the best boyfriend, it means being funny, and so much smarter than you think, not always knowing what to say when someone is having a bad day but being willing to sit with them until its better. Jason is kind, caring, passionate, and has great taste in books. All of his girlfriends agree,” she said. Jason smiled despite himself and for the first time that day the intrusive thoughts subsided. He believed her, believed every word she said.

“I love you too,” he whispered. YN smiled and kissed his head. “I’m tired.”

“Come on, let’s go to bed, can I stay with you tonight?” she asked. He could hear the worry in her voice, like she thought he might vanish again. He nodded and she went to her room to change after making him promise he wasn’t going anywhere. He got into bed himself and felt her crawl in behind him. She wrapped her around his waist, and he sighed, loving being held like this.

#jasontodd #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #redhood #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #brokenprism

[letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse]

<<Previous Chapter <<

**Masterlist**

>>Next Chapter>>

Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: Your screams of pain sound all too familiar to the First Mate.

A/N: This chapter is short and sweet but I think it nicely moves yours and Izzy's dynamic in a new direction.

Content Warning: mentions of injuries, trauma, blood, self-harm and angst. I think that's everything. This series is 18+, so minors dni. Go away (politely).

DISCLAIMER: PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, REPUBLISH, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT PERMISSION. I DO NOT OWN OFMD OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

=============================

"Are you okay now, Izzy?"

Gods, what a question to be asking him, the First Mate thought bitterly, as he failed to meet you concerned gaze, all the while sitting stoically in a chair beside your bed. You had dared reach for his hand only moments prior, but that had merely resulted in the silver-haired pirate flinching away from your touch.

It hurt to see him so closed off and unreachable, as he paid mind to whatever unpleasant thoughts were undoubtedly running through his head. A never-ending torment that sneered venomous poision and jeered at how he had once again letting you down.

He was a fucking coward, the First Mate concluded, as his attention trailed from the sight of his bitten down nails, towards the vivid world beyond the window. Despite the butter yellow warmth, Izzy felt chilled to the bone. The cold reminiscent of his time in the row boat, when he had searched for the overboard body of Pete, below the tumultuous, midnight blue waves.

A shiver ran through him, shaking up his already fragile insides. Gods, his constitution felt gossamer thin. The unshakeable Israel Hands, reduced to a snivelling, faint-hearted...twat, all because he could not steel his nerve long enough to be unaffected by your screams. Oh, how you had begged him to stop the doctor. The heartbreaking deals you had been willing to make in those tortuous moments. The deals with the devil, you had bargained in return for your freedom from the pain you had endured- all equally distressing for the poor pirate. The sight of blood and a limb at risk had been too much for Izzy to handle. Too similar to his own fate upon the Revenge, all those many moons ago.

His name had fallen so saccharine sweet and full of longing from your chapped lips, while a contrasting frown marred your enviable features, as the First Mate had abruptly fled from the room but even your desperate calls for his return were admittedly, not enough to drown out the ghosts of long before. The smell of rotting flesh, of gunshots wounds and putrid blood, had haunted him all down the hallway, as he put as much distance between himself and you.

Despite his wanting to be by your side, the overwhelming recollection of his own suffering had become too much for the First Mate to handle alone. Surprisingly, he had found solace from those he often held in contempt. The crew of the Revenge had welcomed him with open arms and even softer reassurances. He hated it. Loathing their pitiful gazes and attempts to console his traumatised mind.

It had to be some kind of sick joke. You were the one who needed comfort. Needed soothing words to inspire strength. He wondered, in his shameful absence, who had taken his place to hold you hand. Both Captains had be present to witness his act of cowardice but they were too busy holding your writhing body in place. Come to mention it, he had no laid eyes upon Buttons, when the rest of the crew had come to his aid. Had the mystic been by your side?

"Izzy, please speak to me." you implored, anticipating your request to be met with further silence, but the pirate surprised you this time.

"I didn't mean to leave you again. Gods, I'm..." he could not even finish his apology. The words felt so hollow, so insincere in the wake of his cowardice. How many more times was he to utter 'I'm sorry' to you? How many more times would you forgive him until you reached your limit and showed him the door? Or perhaps you would always accept his regretful acknowledgement, and he would abuse such a kindness time and time again, like the detestable creature he was. Never knowing when to stop and only ever pushing at everyone's boundaries until they snapped and showed him no mercy. What would such a punishment look like at your hand, the pirate wondered.

He was entitled to your wrath and yet, why the fuck were you being so nice to him? Talking calmly and handing him a cloth to wipe his tears. Wait, when had he started crying? Salt water tracked down the weary man's face, as you pressed a torn piece of rag into his hand, urging him to wipe away the evidence of sorrow. "I know." you said with such simplicity and ease, conveying all your understanding and acceptance so concisely in two singular words. Your tone completely devoid of any judgement or resentment.

The look of innocent consolation sent an involuntary flare of anger through the silver-haired pirate, igniting his quick fire rage in an instant. "Don't fucking agree with me." his hissed, eyes ablaze with disgust. Not for you. No, the abhorrance was not really directed towards you. Izzy was digusted with his own actions but old habits died hard. Lashing out at the nearest person, whether by tongue or by sword, was second nature to him. "Don't...don't be so fucking nice all the time. Just for once, would you shout at me? Push me away. Be selfish, be-be angry! Scream at me. Fucks sake, hurt me even. Treat me how I fucking deserve to be treated!" he implored you, breathless at his own admission. Chest rising and falling in rapid succession.

He craved the pain. The familiar sting of a slap or a bite- whichever you were willing to provide. It was a language he spoke well. Violence spoke all of the words he coukd not voice. A punch, a kick, a hand around his throat. Izzy knew what they represented, he understood their deeper meaning. You and that Stede fucking Bonnet, with all your 'talking it through as a crew' bullshit. That was the true enigma for the First Mate. Emotions were battled channelled through actions, rather than whatever drivel the Gentleman Pirate could ever babble on about.

Except, there was no retaliation on your part. No breaking him into submission. Just a watery gaze and a trembling lips at his confession. Dual hearts broke in succession.

You anguish derived from the pirate's self-hatred. Did he truly believe he was only worthy of such brutality? You detested those who had come before you, cursing every reprobate whom had dared enforce the darkness, that stoked Izzy's requirement for punishment. To add insult to injury, he longed for such cruelty to be delivered by your own hands. As if you could ever dare lay a finger upon his persons, that was anything other than a gentle caress or a squeeze of a hand. You may have been a pirate but never would anyone envisage such savagery from you. Your stomach turned at the mere thought of harming your beloved. "But you told me off for giving you a hug."

The sight of you so sad, made the ache in Izzy's chest double to the point of agony. Surely sorrow of such a magnitude would break through his ribcage and spill onto his obsidian black shirt? Whatever darkness had dwelled within him dissipated like mist upon the rolling ocean. Shoulders slumped forwards, as the First Mate reached forward, using the cloth you had handed him to wipe your own face. He could have wept when you leaned into his touch. Even after begging you to treat him like the dog he was, you still responded with a level of compassion, that completely flummoxed the pirate. "Why're you so bloody kind?" he whispered, truly wanting you to answer him.

Then, in that same sweet voice, you responded with a heartfelt truth. Five mere words that Izzy wished to have tattooed upon his body, across his heart. "You inspire it in me."

And with that, the First Mate vacated his chair and gathered you in his arms, mindful of your injured arm. Cradling you to his chest, he kept you close, savouring your warmth and softness- such a contrast to him own gruff and jaded exterior. "You stupid, wonderful, infuriating..." the sweet nothings continued, as he pressed a rough, chaste kiss to your forehead. The first of many, you hoped.

=============================

A/N: I hope you liked this chapter. Genuine curiosity, what would you like to happen next?

#avengeofmd #avenge ofmd #letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse #letsdeerintheheadlights #ofmd #stede bonnet #blackbeard #ofmd izzy #save ofmd #ed teach #stede #ofmd s2 #our flag means death #save our flag means death #izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #x trans reader #x male reader #x fem!reader #my writing #snow at the beach

[isnt-it-pretty]

Wip #2

I could have sworn I made a post about this but I can't find it. Ugh. Maybe I just talked about it in my discord server.

Anyway, this is an AU I'd like to finished, but I'm not sure I ever will. It's an I where Cyno's Vision is stolen as a way to keep him from interfering with the Sages' plan. I'll post some notes at the end.

Prospective summary:

"If you're so concerned about the General Mahamatra getting in your way, take his Vision," Scaramouche said from where he leaned casually against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "Just wait a few days and he won't even want to investigate our project."

-

AU where Cyno loses his Vision.

...

They found him on the outskirts of the city, injured and disorientated. 

Cyrus was the first to know, an anxious-looking matra alerting him in the liminal hours between midnight and dawn. Any sleepiness was gone in a heartbeat, replaced by frantic fear. 

It wasn't the first time that Cyno was injured during his tenure as General Mahamatra, but Cyrus loathed it. He wished his son would delegate more, and rely on the others for support instead of rushing off head-first into danger, but it was a futile desire. Cyno would never ask another to do something when he could do it himself-- even if it meant running himself ragged. 

He dressed quickly, uncaring about his haggard appearance. The matra had left after delivering to the news-- likely to alert Kaveh, as per Cyno's specific instructions in case of injury. Cyrus was to be alerted first, followed by Kaveh if he was within the city. Tighnari was only to be contacted in life-or-death situations, or if the other two were unavailable (a rare thing since Cyrus' retirement. He tended to stick around in the city.)

As Cyrus locked the door behind him, he wondered what sort of situation it would be. 

He arrived at the Bimarstan quickly, shivering from the damp cold of the morning. The matra said they found Cyno outside, and Cyrus could only think about how much Cyno hated the cold. 

Taj was already there, pacing the length of the small waiting room. He must have been alerted even quicker than Cyrus-- or perhaps he had never stopped working the evening before. 

"Any news?" Cyrus asked, coming to a stop in front of Taj. 

"None," Taj replied, halting his pacing to face Cyrus. "They won't tell me anything about his condition, and even the details of what happened when he was found are sparse."

"What do you know?"

Taj hesitated. "The Corps of Thirty found him. He was conscious but confused, and couldn't recall what had happened. Otherwise, the preliminary investigation is still ongoing, but so far it appears nobody can account for Cyno's wearables for the last three days."

Three days? And nobody noticed? It wasn't unusual for Cyno to leave Sumeru City without prior notice, but he always sent words to those working closest to him as soon as possible. At least Aarav-- Cyno's second-in-command-- should have known. 

"Do you know what cases he was working on?"

"Aarav is looking into it now."

Cyrus wanted the snap, his nerves frayed with worry, but he could see the worry in Taj's features. Despite the distance between Cyno and Taj in recent years, Cyrus knew they cared for one another. Taj hated the situation just as much as he did. 

It didn't take long before they were allowed to see Cyno. As his father, Cyrus was allowed access to his medical information-- the only other who could do so was Tighnari-- and it meant he had the authority to allow visitors on Cyno's behalf. 

Several matra already stood guard outside the door. They were familiar to Cyrus from times when he dropped by Cyno's office, but Taj greeted them each by name. Cyrus was glad of it-- he knew the loyalty the matra had for Cyno. They would protect him if he couldn't do it himself. 

The hospital room was small with only a small window. Cyrus would see the sky lightening with pre-dawn, the morning sun coming to chase away his anxiety. 

Cyno was asleep in the bed, his arms laid carefully at his sides and an IV snaking away from his wrist. There were no broken bones and minimal bandages, although deep bruising covered patches of his exposed skin. His wrists and arms were ringed in them, the skin chafed by rope burn where he must have been bound. Half of his face was swollen. It made anger rise in Cyrus' chest. 

A doctor leaned over Cyno when they entered, checking his vitals. He didn't recognize her and Cyrus quietly called up her accreditations in the Akasha. Despite no longer being officially affiliated with the Akademiya, Cyrus was still granted access to more information than the majority of citizens. 

Dr. Harita was the top of her class and had several years of experience in emergency care at the Bimarstan. Her last published paper was eight months ago-- a study on the efficacy of estimated pain scales in nonverbal patients. Interesting, but not Cyrus' area of study. He still found it comforting to know somebody so well-regarded was looking after Cyno. 

"You must be Cyrus," she said after introducing herself, shaking his hand. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"How is he?" he replied as glanced at Cyno. 

"Not bad, all things considered," Dr. Harita replied. "Dehydration and multiple contusions across his body-- likely a mild concussion as well, given the bruising on his face. Most are a couple of days old by now, which lines up with the timelines we were given. They're likely defensive wounds. He was disorientated when we found him, although it's difficult to tell if that was from some sort of drug in his system, or something else. We won't know for sure until we get his blood work back. For now, he's been mildly sedated to keep him calm during treatment. He should wake up soon."

Cyno wasn't easy to take in a fight. By virtue of his Vision and Hermanubis' spirit, he could easily overtake large groups of people. The fact that the assailants managed to grab him-- and perhaps more damningly, keep him for a time-- drastically changed the perpetrators' presumed skillset. This group wasn't made up of amateurs. A glance at Taj seemed to confirm that they shared the same thought. 

Speaking of- Cyrus glanced at the bedside table, searching for a familiar shade of purple. Like most Vision wielders, Cyno was particular about who touched it, and Cyrus always kept it on his person when Cyno was injured. There was no sign of it. 

"Where's his Vision?" he asked Dr. Harita. 

She froze, looking up from Cyno's chart with a concerned expression. 

"His Vision," she slowly repeated. "He didn't arrive with a Vision."

The ensuing silence was fraught with tension. 

"Taj-" Cyrus started, but Taj was already halfway to the door. 

"Stay with him," Taj said, his voice short. He disappeared from view a moment later. 

...

They couldn't find it. Taj and several other matra had combed the area where Cyno was found, but there was nothing.

Cyrus sat at Cyno's bedside, clutching Cyno's hand and fidgeting in uncharacteristic restlessness. Dr. Harita expected Cyno to wake up soon, which left them in a difficult position. 

Research into the effects of losing a Vision was lacking after it was deemed to be a violation of one of the six cardinal sins. Occasionally, a researcher received special permission to write a paper on the topic about an individual they treated, but even those were few are far between. The truth was simply that Vision wielders were rare, land losing a Vision was even more so. 

The best they had to go on were baseless rumours that made it out of Inazuma after the birth of the Vision Hunt Decree-- horror stories of people who lost a fundamental part of themselves and were unable to go on-- but news had a difficult time escaping the nation's isolationist borders. 

Spantamad had the most Driyosh of any Darshan by virtue of its study of leylines, so if the worst came to pass, Cyrus could attempt to reach out for any information on the topic. At least some of them must have studied in Inazuma recently. He hoped it wouldn't be needed, that Taj would find the Vision, but when had Cyno ever been lucky?

...

The moment Cyno woke, Cyrus knew his fears had been well founded. 

Cyno stared up at the ceiling, unseeing.

- to be continued? -

...

Notes:

Apparently I don't have much written down for this (must be in my DMs with friends) but it was going to get back. Cyno's reaction was inspired by Heizou's in the fic Missing Pieces by StrangeDiamond, in which Heizou loses his Vision.

Cyno was going to be listless and ends up moving back in with Cyrus. Basically the only people who can get his attention are Cyrus and Kaveh-- people he was very close with before he lost his Vision. Taj can sometimes, but even though they were close, Taj is too related to Cyno's Vision.

He doesn't recognize Tighnari at all. Okay, well, he does, but he doesn't really care. Tighnari isn't important to him, neither is Collei. It breaks Tighnari's heart.

When Lumine arrives in Sumeru and Tighnari finds out that she's the Traveller and has been in Inazuma, he asks her if she can help Cyno. In exchange, she can ask Cyrus about Lesser Lord Kusanali. She meets Cyno, but she can't help. Cyrus can't tell her much aboutnthe archon.

Tighnari gets dragged into the Archon Quest in Cyno's place, suspecting that Cyno's stolen Vision relates to Naphis' odd behaviour.

#genshin #writing #my writing #wips #my wips #tighcyno #sometimes i'm creative #cynonari

[taikanyohou]

dark! pete also entails him bragging and boasting with a snarl on his face to vegas, hell, to anyone and everyone, about how he owns vegas. how he owns seeing vegas. how he owns the fact that he knows exactly and precisely how to break vegas completely, and piece him back together again. how he owns the power and control he has over knowing that vegas will come back to him, every single time. how he owns vegas' firsts - the surrendering to pete, being his first true earth shattering life changing love, the admission to pete that he has nothing and is nothing, the self-loathing and the violence he inflicts upon himself. how pete owns the fact that he has sacrificed for vegas and no one has the fucking right to diminish or belittle or overshadow those sacrifices. he owns killing for vegas. he owns taking from vegas, selfishly. he owns being able to make vegas kneel on the ground for him.

oh, its so much fun for pete to go from looking like this doe-eyed, boyish, sweetheart to looking at anyone, including vegas, with a gaze so harrowing as this ferocious beast from inside him rears its head, as he declares his ownership of vegas.

that, yeah, pete's body, with all its pretty bruises and marks and scars that vegas leaves on him make it seem that its vegas who owns pete, to anyone who looks. and pete doesn't dispute that - wanting to be owned by vegas, because pete loves being owned by him in a way that he can drop the sweetheart look completely, and vegas won't find him a freak and run away. but pete isn't a pushover. all it takes is for the look in his eyes to shift to something so bone chilling that it makes vegas' blood run cold when pete looks at him like that, yet it turns vegas on and makes him weak for pete at the very same time.

because vegas? loves being owned by pete, just the same.

#faiza talks #vegaspete #DARK PETE MY BELOVED. #dark pete has so much potential IMAGINE dark pete in season 2. BEING LIKE THIS. not just with vegas but with EVERYONE. #fuck fuck fuckkkk. #i dont want a palatable pete. FUCK THAT! if we do get a season 2 i want him to EMBRACE the beast in him SO TIGHT #wear it like skin on himself. to the point where he becomes unrecognisable to those who havent seen this pete. the REAL pete. #I WANT HIM SO MUCH I WANT HIM SO BAD TO BE THIS UNSAVOURY GUY WHO IS SO UNAPOLOGETIC ABOUT IT. #yet he STILL has the sweetness of honey trickling in him for those he holds dearest. #god sometimes i think about pete too much and it makes me wanna CHOMP AND DEVOUR HIM.

[mozillavulpix]

a bunch of hugtto plotlines that had absolutely no reason to go that hard

aka “the parts that emotionally devastated me”

apparently it’s 5 years old now

Homare having like honest-to-god PTSD after an ice-skating injury, and not being able to become a Precure in the first episode because she was terrified to jump to reach the thing she needed to transform

just, fucking, absolutely everything about Henri. An androgynous ice-skater who likes wearing women’s clothes, has a whole arc about being tempted by the villains because he’s terrified of the onset of male puberty, snapping out of the villain’s control, and then getting to be a Precure himself

also Emiru’s brother is the conservative guy who rejects Henri’s behaviour but then they say actually he was just like that because he’s super-closeted gay and they end up having a relationship

One day Hana is feeling inadequate compared to her friends and those feelings prevent her from transforming. which then makes her self-loathing even worse

That night she starts bawling her eyes out to her mom, realising for the first time that it’s totally possible to dislike yourself and how you turned out as a person

so the mascot characters don’t come from a magical world, they come from the future. the future is also a dystopia and they came back in time to prevent that from happening to the present too

there’s one episode where two girls arguing with each other fuels the bad guy to turn them into a monster of the week, but then they manage to make up from within that state which stops the monster from fighting

they have a robot girl who slowly starts to develop emotions and help the precure and so the villains just shoot her. she lives, they can just reboot her, but

they have a whole song Emiru makes about how much she loves her new friend that she sings to her with her guitar and it’s super wholesome

there’s an episode where they go to a night pool, while Hana is shaken up by the revelations of who the new bad guys are and tries to hide her anxiety from her friends. They never catch on.

homare’s parents are divorced. It’s briefly mentioned a few times and no one treats her differently because of it.

the silly hamster mascot who can turn into a bishonen was also cruelly experimented on by the bad guys and can turn into a monster

they have an episode about a woman going into labor

they also have an episode about a woman having a caesarian section and telling people how that’s totally normal and nothing to be ashamed of

in that episode, a toddler runs away from her parents crying about the new baby, worried that it means her mother will stop loving her

there’s an episode where they meet Hana’s grandmother. she injures her back and has to go to the hospital. she’s okay, but

They have a romance plot where Homare learns and accepts that her love is unrequited. Including The Little Mermaid metaphors

We find out the robot girl was built partially because the doctor that made her had a dead daughter

the mascot’s backstory is that his fucking home burns down, and that’s what makes him realise he needs to join the evil team because he has nowhere else to go

there was a precure team in the future. they got defeated, and the last member got turned into the magical baby from travelling to the past

they spend like the last few episodes before the final battle just accepting that their friends from the future are going to leave forever once the final battle is over. They have a whole group cry about it so they (hopefully) won’t cry when it actually happens. (They still do)

Saya’s mother has an emotional breakdown realising her daughter doesn’t want to follow in her footsteps. Saya goes into her mind and embraces her, thanking her for giving her life

actually the apocalypse in the future was caused by people’s collective fear of moving forward causing time itself to stop. There’s no evidence that it won’t happen again and that won’t be their future

also in the future timeline hana dies and the bad guy is actually her husband from the future who doesn’t want to see that happen again. He never tells her this, but seeing her younger self so ready to face the future, even if it leads to her suffering, makes him realise he shouldn’t try to stop her

they have a future epilogue that shows that the events of the future aren’t going to repeat themselves. Probably. I think they must have created a new timeline or something. time travel is complicated

Emiru and Ruru do meet again in the future. But only because Emiru helps the scientist who created her in the future make her in this time. They finally meet again after like 20 years but this time Emiru is the older one and Ruru is the little one.

like any one of these makes you go “I’m surprised they got away with this”, but there’s so many.

#precure #hugtto precure

[void-occupation]

The O'Carrick Curse

I just talked about a headcanon in the comment section of a fic that I just read, and realized that maybe I should post it here too.

In the fic ("who you are" by mipmaps on A03) Will ends up offering the surname 'Treaty' to Halt, who accepts, which I am absolutely in love with because of the headcanon that I am about to share with you guys.

I feel like Halt sees the surname "O'Carrick" as a curse, especially when he considers how miserably and/or tragically every O'Carrick (that we know of) has lived and died.

~ Halt mentioned that his parents argued all the time and were pretty much straight-up neglectful to everyone but Ferris. (I also headcanon that they were abusive, but I'll go more in-depth about that another time).

~ Ferris was so blinded by greed that he tried to kill his twin brother multiple times over a throne, and did so terribly at being king that he was most beloved by the people when that same twin was pretending to be him - not to mention that when he finally started to do better, he was instantly murdered for it.

~ Caitlyn spent her childhood being neglected and forced to grieve as the one person who truly cared for her apparently died, and she was the only one who really knew who was behind it. She also spent her whole life being sickly, and it was eventually what killed her, leaving her son (who I'm sure Halt was grateful didn't carry the same name) alone with her snake of a brother.

~ And Halt. He was also neglected his whole childhood to the point of being so afraid of hurting his parents' relationship that he would rather run away and leave everything he had ever known and loved behind then tell his parents that his brother was trying to kill him. Speaking of, his twin brother - with whom he spent his entire childhood, and loved in a way that only twins can - tried to murder him on three separate occasions for a throne he didn't even want in the first place. Shortly after this, Halt lost the man who he had come to see as a father, and had to deal with the survivor's guilt brought on by being saved by Will's parents, and leaving Will himself orphaned. He also didn't tell a soul about who he really was until literal decades later. He had to give up a second home in order to save his son apprentice that he felt responsible for losing in the first place (whom he has almost lost multiple times - the majority of which he felt responsible for). Then, he lost the man that he considered a brother (or perhaps a lover????). Not to mention the fact that by book 8 - aside from Sean - his whole family was dead.

I feel like Halt was bittersweet about his standing as the last of the O'Carricks. One reason, is he's glad no one else has to carry the burden of the (in his mind) cursed name. A part of him however, wonders if perhaps Halt was the curse all along. That was another reason that Halt didn't offer Will the O'Carrick name at his graduation, he was afraid that sharing a surname with Will would leave his former apprentice vulnerable to his curse.

When Will first offered his surname to Halt, the older ranger teared up, and Will was startled when Halt seemed to be on the verge of breaking down.

Before Will could start apologizing, Halt found himself pouring out all of his thoughts about the curse that he had feared his whole life, and his fear of inflicting it on Will and causing him the same misery. Will was completely stunned, because the only other times Halt had been this vulnerable were when he was telling Will about his mother, and when he spoke about his own childhood, and even then, those times were nothing like this. He had never heard this self-loathing from his teacher before but as he processed the words, he realized that it must have been hidden deep within Halt all this time.

Will took Halt's hands in his own, cutting off the older ranger's uncharacteristic rambling, and looked deep into his stricken eyes. "Halt," his quiet voice cut through Halt's mind like an arrow, "You are many things, but a curse is not one of them." Halt's eyes misted over, and it was all he could do to maintain eye contact. Will had never seen this level of vulnerability and hurt in his teacher's gaze, and he would do anything to take his pain away.

"You are not a curse, or a burden, or a monster, and it is not your fault that things with your family turned out the way that they did. You were as much of a victim as they were, if not more so." Here, Will took a deep breath, and bent slightly to maintain eye contact with the Hibernian whose dark gaze had drifted downwards to hide his shame. "Do you know what you are?" The soft question was rhetorical, for Will needed no one to give him answers besides his own heart and memories, "You are a protector, a kind soul, and the greatest man I have ever known. And I am proud beyond belief to call you my friend, mentor, and father."

At this, Halt's gaze snapped back up in shock. How could Will still say that after seeing him like this? After all the broken promises, and the hurt and heartache cause by simply being associated with the former prince? However, before he could speak his thoughts, Will plowed on. "I offer you my surname, not out of a sense of debt or obligation, but because I love you, and I wish for the world to know that we are family, and nothing - no self-believed curse, no painful pasts, and certainly no self doubt - will ever stop me from seeing you as my father. I offer my name because I see how much pain your own brings you, and if I can do even one thing to show you the same care you have always showed for me, then I will gladly do so."

By this time, tears had begun to flow freely down Halt's face, and Will's own eyes burned as well. Slowly, Halt nodded and whispered his acceptance which Will had to strain to hear. The younger ranger pulled his father into a strong yet warm embrace that he could only hope expressed the love he had for the slight man before him.

As Halt melted into the embrace, he felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and though it would never truly leave him, the pain of his curse finally melted away as accepted the family he had feared for so long.

#ranger's apprentice #halt o'carrick #will treaty #caitlyn o'carrick #ferris o'carrick #halt's parents #sean o'carrick #I personally feel that Sean took his father's last name #which is mentioned in the post #sorry for the length #not me going from a rant into a straight up drabble #I just have a lot of emotions about this small sad Irishman #mentions of abuse #and neglect #Halt goes through it for a good bit #my comment on the fic was A LOT shorter

[emmedoesntdomath]

The faymus Jack Kelly

*sigh* well. unless we think of any more, this is our last one. it’s the end of an era, y’all.

so of course I made jack last.

francis “jack kelly” sullivan was born to a faceless father and mother, and immediately taken to an orphanage. there, he was given the state-ordained name of francis sullivan, completely ignoring his hispanic roots and background. he grew up knowing nothing about himself except for that he felt wrong and clearly, he wasn’t wanted. the system wasn’t great, and it was run by the church, not the state. by the time he was nine, he had given up on any and all gods.

he ran away first at seven, and was caught after two days by snyder, who he learned very quickly to hate. he runs away again, and again.

he’s always caught. part of him wonders if the sky hated him.

he meets charlie morris in the refuge (his personal hell) at twelve, and his world becomes a little brighter. he becomes jack, charlie crutchie (jack still hates that one), and they run away again, this time together, and a young italian boy with curls and a slight accent stumbles upon them hiding in an alley. they move to the top of the lodging house, and jack kelly starts hawking the headline.

he’s scarily good at it, and people notice quickly. the older kids start picking him out of crowds, start remembering his name and clapping him on the back when he earns some extra money. and when their leader, knuckles, ages out, they all look to him. never mind that he’s only fifteen, still a little green and more than a little dumb. but he’s never been good at saying no to people when under pressure, so he starts calling himself the king of manhattan.

the name doesn’t really stick, not as much as cowboy, but the friends he had made do, and soon enough, he’s got newsies beneath him who would follow him to the ends of the earth. two years pass, and everything’s fine. great, even. jack flirts, sells, draws, does everything in between.

and the voice in his mind hisses you will never be enough

when he meets the jacobs brothers, he’s tired, annoyed, and more than a tad hungover. but david jacobs- he’s alive, more alive than jack has ever been. he’s smart, funny, easy on the eyes. he’s everything jack wants to be, everything that should make jack worry about his being of the king of manhattan ending soon. but for once, he’s not worried.

instead, he can’t stop staring at david jacobs’ eyes or mouth, and oh, that’s a problem.

then the strike happens, and david becomes davey, and jack should really be worried about this whole thing, but davey davey davey. he can’t stop drawing him, or seeing him in his dreams. he takes the money, tries running (again)(why does he always run?), but comes back to davey, and oh, yes, this is a very stubborn problem.

they kiss and fall in bed one night after jack’s drunk enough whiskey to make him start whispering things in davey’s ear. everything changes, but nothing changes. for years. and jack? well, jack can be stubborn, too, and he can pretend he’s not DROWNING in self-loathing.

race finally cracks, and yells at him for three hours straight, and then they kiss again, but it’s better this time, real this time, and jack decides he’s going to spend the rest of his life drawing david jacobs. they grow old, as old as a newsie gets, and they grow up.

get jobs, find their way around, away, and back to each other. have a couple kids. lose a couple friends. but in the end, jack kelly is still francis sullivan, and the sky has always known that francis sullivan loves david jacobs in his bones, even if it hates him.

davey leaves jack, leaves francis, but it’s the kind of leave that’s like falling asleep; sweet, peaceful, painless. francis keeps breathing, keeps moving, keeps mourning. his hands always draw those eyes. always.

when he leaves, too, he had never been happier.

(maybe, just maybe, the sky didn’t hate him.)

(for how could the sky hate one so loved?)

#:) #newsies #92sies #uksies #livesies #jack kelly #francis sullivan #jack kelly newsies #jack x davey #davey jacobs #david jacobs #javid #javey #javey newsies #emme’s bad ideas

[triplesilverstar]

It's the desert, how do you almost run over someone?

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: Canon-Typical Violence, Death, suspicion, Emotional Hurt, Medical Inaccuracies, Gunshot Wounds, Blood, Blood and Injury

Word count: Roughly 1.7K A/N: Chap 1 of A mysterious stranger and eaten, what a day, where we see the arrival of Wolfwood and Zazie well… being Zazie.

Three days after the destruction of Jeneora Rock you decide you're done waiting for Vash to snap out of his pity party of one, planning when you stop for the day to take him aside. Too bad Meryl almost makes someone into roadkill first, and you realize that today might not be the best day for trying to find some alone time.

It was the third day since you and Vash had been traveling with the reporter duo, who after leaving Jeneora Rock had caught up to you and Vash as you’d broken camp in the morning following the chaos that had preceded it. Almost as soon as they had pulled up Vash painted that fake smile on his face and laughed at being followed. Oddly enough it had been Roberto who’d offered you both the ride, which you had been doubtful of his motives, once he clarified his reasons which were simple you’d both looked at one another. It had made sense, they still needed to write a story about the infamous Humanoid Typhoon, and with the two of you heading to JuLai you’d get there faster with a lift, so a shrug of Vash’s shoulders and your bags were secured on the roof. 

Now after three days in the truck, you were getting fidgety. Sure, the first day you had taken advantage to get a few hours of napping by leaning against the car door, making up for the lack of sleep you’d gotten while staying awake and soothing Vash in his troubled slumber. Vash was also still wrapped up in his own little storm of self depreciation, at this point you normally would have pulled him aside and dragged him from his pity party with whatever love and affection it took. Problem was, you couldn’t do that when you could barely get five minutes alone with him, and you’d both agreed early in your relationship to try and hide it from others. 

With Vash in his pity party of one, it also meant you couldn’t pass the time traveling like you normally did when in a moving vehicle. Ever since you had found that small chess set, if the two of you were on a bus or sand steamer, it was the go to time passer. So it’d been two days and two nights of sitting either in the truck, or sitting in the sand with little to no contact with your lover. It also didn’t help that he was passing up food again, one of those nasty little habits of his when he felt he didn’t deserve it. So while you were pretending to nap in the back and heard Roberto mention that Vash hadn’t touched the sandwich he’d been given by the duo you stopped feigning sleep. 

“Someone should eat the sandwich if he won’t, might as well be you Penny. You’re all skin and bone” from the rearview you can see the look of agitation on her face. Meryl doesn’t get the chance to respond before Roberto is staring at you in the rearview himself. 

“He hasn’t had a bite since that whole mess went down. Got any idea what the hell is running through that spiky head of his?” In a way you're loath to answer his question, you should have stayed silent but you don’t really have much choice since you stopped your pretend nap. Rubbing a hand through your hair you think for a moment how to word it so it doesn’t give too much away. 

“I mean, I sort of have an idea. It’s not the first time I’ve seen him pull this shit, and it has been after something like what happened back there. Just never saw it this bad before.” There we go, some truths mixed in with a few white lies, too bad you can tell Roberto doesn’t fully believe your words. You shrug, glancing at the blond who’s snoring away, passed out, and not pretending to be asleep either. In your head you promise yourself when the truck stops for the night, you’re going to confront him, previous agreements damned.

“Well that wasn’t very enlightening, I suppose it’s between him and God then.” While Roberto’s voice is reflective you snort, no it’s between Vash and his belief he’s to blame for so much of the tragedy that’s befallen humanity on this forsaken rock. Thankfully the subject is changed at the appearance of the worm cloud, and you find yourself chuckling along with Roberto at Meryl’s discomfort. 

“Ah come on, Penny. I hear there are some worm parts that are even considered a delicacy” glancing out the windshield you seize up, at the same time as Roberto notices what you see, while Meryl is looking downcast at her lap. “Fuck, person!” As the vehicle makes a sharp turn you find yourself reaching forward and digging your hands into the sides of the seat in front of you.

Once stopped you turn to see Vash who has somehow turned upside down in his seat, oops, and is sitting up pulled violently from the land of sleep. “Maybe a warning next time guys?” Voice deep from slumber you find yourself reaching over to pat his lap, undoing your seatbelt as you hop out after Meryl. 

“Maybe next time, since I don’t think any of us expected Penny to hit a person!” Well you tried for calm but at the end that edge of panic is there. Last thing you need is for someone to get run over, because while he was asleep, Vash will find some way to add this to his pity party. Not bothering to close the door as you dart after Meryl.

“Hey, are you ok?” Leaning over him, she looks unsure of what to do glancing behind herself at you. At least she had been paying attention to you to realize you had some meager medical skills. 

“Hm, looks like he’s bleeding from one of his eyes based on the blood track. Probably got a bit of a concussion after that.” He’s groaning from the pain, and to be honest, who wouldn’t be after getting hit by a truck. Hands moving fast you quickly check for any other open wounds or signs of trauma. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing up, minus the blood track from his eye, there’s no sign of anything else wrong with him. You aren’t left with much time to ponder as Meryl panics beside you.

“There’s a rest stop nearby, we should be able to get help there!” Meryl is running off back towards the truck not bothering to see if any of you are going to follow her. 

“Vash, can you give me a hand?” Rolling your eyes at her antics as your own panic has subsided, he’s not dead which means no side serving of sadness for your pretty plant man. Vash is on the other side of the mystery man in moments, and together you have him up and somewhat stable between the two of you, on the way to the truck and trying to slide him into the backseat without causing any more bodily harm. 

“Can one of you give me a hand with his cross?” Roberto is calling out, nodding to Vash now that you and the mystery man are at least in the truck. Flinching as you feel the suspension on the truck bounce once the cross is thrown up top. What the hell. 

Vash slides himself back in and helps to situate the man between the two of you to keep him upright as Meryl slams her foot on the pedal, you find yourself more concerned for the rest of the occupants of the moving vehicle than the injured mystery man. “Oh god we're gonna die in a car crash. In the desert. With nothing around us.” Voice deadpan as you stare across the seat into Vash’s eyes, hands supporting one side of the man between the two of you.

“Snipes. You're not helping.” Flying over the top of a dune and flailing as the three of you are lifted off the backseat, trying to keep the man steady you catch Vash’s eye again. Bugged eyed he stares back, mouth open and teeth tightly closed in a grimace, another bounce and you can practically hear the voice in his head telling you you’re not wrong but speaking right now is not going to help either one of you. 

Sliding into a rest station, certain your stomach is somewhere back behind you in the desert dunes somewhere, you and Vash work together once more to hoist the mystery man this time out of the truck and towards the opening of the diner door. “We need help, this man is hurt!” While you and Vash are trudging along, keeping the man balanced and upright you don’t fail to notice the way Meryl’s mannerisms freeze. Something is up. 

“Our roadkills got nothing on them” the smell of copper is thick, as you manage your way through the door. Taking in the sight Roberto, for the first time since you met him, seems to actually be remorseful. Color you surprised. 

“Roadkill is dead. This guy isn’t” your voice is flat as it leaves you, taking in the sight in front of you eyes darting around the scene. 

“Snipes!” Vash chastises you. How could he not, this was not the time and place for such comments. But something about this guy is setting your gut on fire, he shouldn’t have been able to put two feet in front of the other even with assistance. Now coming across this?

“This level of violence. Could it be?” No one else gets the chance to answer Meryl, as the mystery man speaks, shaking himself out of both of your and Vash’s grip. Yea, a man gets hit by a truck and not half an hour later is walking around on his own. Not suspicious at all. 

“Could it be who?” The sound of gentle banging draws your attention and you feel yourself growing suspicious for a whole different reason. That blood is too fresh, and you were the only vehicle outside. Which means whatever killed these two, has a high probability of being what killed the two adults before you. Glancing at Vash who is looking at you as well, both of you nodding, your rifle is still in the back of the truck but it’s far from your only weapon, tensing your body as Vash makes the move. Striding towards the locker. 

You can’t see what he sees, only watch the tightness leave his shoulders as he steps back, reaching down and helping a child step from inside the locker? All that runs through your mind in the moment is simple. What the fuck happened here?

Back to Masterlist for the series

#vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #trigun #twink writes #Bullets Bandits Ghosts & Typhoons #tristamp

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

All Hands On Deck

Prompt: learning something new

Pairing: pre-Geralt/Jaskier

Rating: M

Warnings: none, just the author's questionable understanding of Gwent

Summary: Trying to make a connection with his new friend and muse—and also trying to get into his pants—Jaskier asks Geralt to teach him about the only thing the witcher seems to care about, besides Roach and blessed silence: Gwent.

My first ficlet for @whataboutthebard Thanks so much to @handwrittenhello for trying to teach me about the rules of Gwent, even though I don't think I was much better of a student than Jaskier. You can read this below or here on AO3!

***

In the few short weeks since Jaskier first clapped eyes on Geralt of Rivia and thought to himself, “I’m going to climb that man like a mountain, so help me Melitele,” he’s learned three vital things about his surly new friend: the witcher likes horses, blessed silence, and Gwent, not necessarily in that order. 

For a man who claims to be an outcast from society, utterly loathed by those he’s committed his life to protecting, he seems to find someone with whom to play Gwent in nearly every town where they stop. Jaskier once wandered away while a bereaved husband was weeping to Geralt about his recently-devoured wife, only to return to find Geralt trouncing the man at Gwent.

(In Jaskier’s humble opinion, soundly defeating men whose wives were recently carried off by griffins may be one of the reasons that witchers are so poorly thought of. Geralt just grunted at him when he made that suggestion.)

But the point is that Jaskier and Geralt little in common and Jaskier is desperate to make a connection with the witcher before the summer comes to an end and they part ways so Geralt can make it back to wherever he spends the winter and Jaskier can return to Lettenhove. Preferably a carnal connection, but Jaskier isn’t picky. He just wants Geralt to think fondly enough of him that he won’t run in the other direction when Jaskier tries to track him down in the spring. Jaskier isn’t done with his newest muse yet; there are so many songs to sing about Geralt, so many stories to tell.

Plus, Jaskier wants to fuck him. He really wants to fuck him.

Jaskier is a master of seduction—his favorite whore back in Oxenfurt told him so—and he knows from vast experience that the best way to make a connection with someone is to find a common interest. A favorite poet, a shared love of Est Est, a fondness for daffodils. The problem is that Geralt has no interest in poetry or daffodils and he once referred to Est Est as “overpriced horse piss.” So it seems that Jaskier will have to be the one to seek out common ground with the witcher. 

Two of Geralt’s interests have been summarily ruled out—Jaskier’s one and only attempt to bond with Roach ended with him getting kicked in the bollocks, an experience he’s not eager to repeat, and he doesn’t go in for blessed silence.

That leaves Gwent.

The problem is that Jaskier has never had any interest in playing Gwent. His grandfather, the Earl de Lettenhove, loves it, as does his mother, but Jaskier has always found it an inscrutable game. He prefers games that he can play while tipsy and only partially clothed, while Gwent seems to be a game that requires one’s full attention. Jaskier has never been one to devote his full attention to anything unless it comes with a magnificent ass and/or a lot of coin.

Geralt certainly has the former and, if he’d just let Jaskier spread word of his good deeds Continent-wide, he may someday have the latter.

But, at the end of the day, there’s nothing Jaskier wouldn’t do for the chance to end up in between Geralt’s well-muscled thighs, so one night, as they’re sitting by their campfire somewhere in southern Temeria, he asks, “Why don’t you teach me how to play Gwent?”

Geralt, who has been busy cleaning his armor—despite the fact that Jaskier has advised him several times that the best thing he could do to his tattered, filthy armor is set it aflame and go buy a new set—looks up with a raised eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because it’s a beautiful night, our bellies are full of rabbit stew, and I can think of no finer way to spend an evening sitting by the fire, playing cards.” And then hopefully getting railed into next week afterwards, though that seems impolitic to add.

“Hm.” Geralt eyes him dubiously. “You ever played before?”

“No, I’m afraid I’ve always thought of it as an old man’s game. My grandfather loves it.”

Geralt’s nostrils flare, though it’s impossible to tell if it’s in annoyance or amusement. “I’m probably older than your grandfather.”

“Like I said.” Jaskier smiles sweetly. “An old man’s game.”

Geralt snorts and shakes his head.

Realizing that comparing Geralt to his grandfather may not be the best tactic to take if he wants to put either of them in a randy mood, Jaskier hastens to add, “But I’m sure I’ll pick it up quickly. I’ve always been a fast study.”

“Since when?”

Jaskier scowls at the witcher, who smirks back at him infuriatingly. “Just get out your dice, witcher.”

“Gwent is a card game. No dice.”

“And see? This is why I need you to teach me! I’m hopeless.”

“That’s for sure,” Geralt grumbles, but he still gets up to go fetch a deck of cards from his saddlebag. When he settles back down across from Jaskier, he says, “I’d ask what you know about Gwent, but I’m going to guess the answer is not a damn thing.”

“That’s not true.” Jaskier sniffs. “I know it’s a card game.”

Geralt’s lips twitch in that infuriating almost-smile of his. “Hm, quick study indeed.”

“Why, Geralt, that was the first time you’ve ever complimented me.”

“Probably the last as well.”

“Don’t be hasty. You haven’t seen me play yet.”

Geralt grunts and begins dealing cards. As he’s explaining the rules, Jaskier tries to listen. He really does. It’s just, Geralt’s hands are distractingly lovely, his nimble fingers deft as they deal the cards. There’s something that’s probably monster innards caked under his fingernails, which Jaskier will have to insist get scrubbed away before any amorous activities commence, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that Jaskier knows those fingers would feel lovely inside him or wrapped around his…

“You probably want to look at your cards,” Geralt says dryly. “So you can come up with a strategy.”

“A strategy.” Jaskier picks up his cards, realizing he didn’t hear a single word Geralt said about the rules. “To… steal all your cards?”

That earns him an unimpressed look, though in his defense, that’s just Geralt’s default expression. “To play your cards and get as many points as possible.”

“Ah, right, good.” Jaskier studies his cards, frowning when recognizes some familiar names. “Geralt, why are there real people on my Gwent cards?”

“Because Gwent is like a battle and those cards are your soldiers.”

“The Redanian court sorceress is one of my soldiers?”

“You shouldn’t have told me that.”

“Well, no thank you.” Jaskier slides his Philippa Eilhart card back to Geralt. “I don’t want her staring at me with her cold, merciless eyes while I play.”

“That’s not how that works,” Geralt says. “Your cards are your cards. And that’s a pretty decent one.”

“I met her at a banquet once when I was sixteen. She threatened to turn me into a canary.”

“Canaries are damn useful to have around sometimes,” Geralt says in a tone that implies that he can’t say the same of Jaskier. “What did you do?”

Jaskier gasps in affront. “What makes you think I did something?”

Geralt arches an eyebrow.

Jaskier rolls his eyes at the ceiling. “I was merely admiring the detailing on her bodice…”

“So her tits?”

“I mean, those were lovely too, but even I’m not enough of an idiot to ogle the court sorceress of Redania.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Yes, I am, but I was really more focused on the beadwork!”

“Play your damn card, idiot.”

“Which one?”

“Whichever one you think will be the best strategically. Weren’t you listening when I told you the rules?”

“Of course I was.” Jaskier harrumphs. “Heard every word.” His eyes scan the cards frantically and he picks one at random, slamming it down. “A catapult! Your door has been blown open and your battlements destroyed. What now?”

“That card is best paired with another catapult. It doubles the points.”

“I don’t know if I have another catapult.”

“Then play another card.”

“Which one?”

“Whichever one will get you the most points.”

“I have to say, Geralt, you’re an abysmal teacher.”

“And you’re an abysmal student.”

Jaskier harrumphs again and puts another card down at random. From Geralt’s skeptical raised eyebrow, it was a poor choice. Geralt puts down his own card.

“Is that a wyvern?” Jaskier squints down at the card. “I don’t have a wyvern!”

“You’re playing with the Northern Realms deck. I’m playing with a Monster deck. And it’s a cockatrice, not a wyvern. See the feathers?”

“Oh.” Jaskier leers. “I have to say, Geralt, I didn’t think you’d show your cockatrice so early in the evening.”

Geralt stares at him flatly. “I was trying to go easy on you.”

“Since when do you go easy on me?”

“You’re right. Your turn.”

Jaskier throws down another random card, which Geralt instantly follows up with one of his own. When Jaskier recognizes the face scowling up at him from the card, his eyes go wide.

“Geralt, is that you?”

The closest thing to a genuine smile Jaskier has ever seen on the witcher breaks over his face. “It is.”

“And you have a beard!” Jaskier leans closer. “It’s quite dashing. Why is there a card named after you?”

Geralt shrugs, though it does nothing to hide how proud he is. "There's a Gwent tournament in Novigrad where if you win, you get a card named after you."

Jaskier whistles. "Impressive. Will you let me ride Roach if I ever win?"

"Sure. I'll also let you ride Roach if you ever wrestle a rock troll and win."

“And we have a deal.”

“The card is also high in points,” Geralt says. “You may want to pass for the rest of the round.”

“Ah, well. Good game, I suppose.” Setting aside his cards, Jaskier leans forward, about to delicately suggest another activity to fill the rest of the evening.

“Pick your cards back up,” Geralt says ruffly. “There are still two more rounds.”

“What?”

***

Jaskier doesn’t quite master all the subtleties of Gwent that night. Nor does he get in Geralt’s indecently tight trousers. But several weeks later, he does get to see the look of half-outrage, half-pride on Geralt’s face when Jaskier manages to win a round of Gwent, and that’s almost as good.

***

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @mosaicscale @tsukiwolf42 @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard

#the witcher #twn #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #what about the bard #wuv the bard

[sunshinemunchkin]

Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince 

pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

warnings: none

word count: 826

a/n: just something quick, had to get it out of my system

the sun setting over Hawkins was a sight you never got tired of. especially not with the best company beside you.

if you told yourself in freshman year of high school that you'd be laying on the hood of steve "the hair" harrington's BMW on a warm summer night almost five years later, you would laughed till you dropped to your knees. and yet, here you were.

sparing a glance next to you, steve rambled on about something robin did at work that annoyed him, though you had to give the girl more credit for putting up with your boyfriend who, admittedly, was annoying at times. "and then she just left! i mean, who does that?" you hide a smile when steve looks over at you, hands raised above his head in exasperation.

"steve, she went on her break." he pouted at the fact that it seemed like you were taking robin's side. his arms crossed over the short sleeve shirt he had changed into the second he got off work, lucky to have gotten out early and watch the sunset with you, as planned. he supposed he did have to thank robin for covering for him. he doesn't know you slipped her a twenty on the favor.

steve's arm came to wrap around your wrist, pulling your hand up from where it laid on the shiny hood, playing with your fingers purposefully. you could smell his shampoo, eucalyptus and mint. watermelon chapstick he stole from you and insisted that he didn't. the same chapstick that sat in his jean pocket and pressed against your bare thigh, your shorts riding up as you adjusted yourself closer to steve's warm frame. there was a breeze settling in, the wind blowing the trees in a calming serenity.

steve hummed the song that you both heard on the way to the hill you now lounged around on. it was infuritatingly stuck in his head, you loved it, how boyish he appeared now. like the unholy creatures and undertones of this town didn't exist. too many nights have gone by sleepless, due to brief nightmares of gaping mouths with no faces, yearning for blood and flesh. open wounds clouded your mind even in the dead of night, of when you had to stitch steve back together, there was so much horror. you haven't been that scared in a long time. you hoped nothing ever topped that.

"hey." steve broke you out of your day dream when he saw your eyebrows creasing. they often did when you were focusing too hard, and this date was meant to be relaxing. not mentally taxing, so that made steve fret. "stop thinking." he kissed the side of your head, as if to suck all the negative thoughts from your mind. his fingers splayed out over your shoulder, squeezing softly and you shut your eyes, willing those thoughts away.

when you leaned up to mouth at steve's jaw, the boy smiled, you tracing over each of his moles and freckles like it was a second language to you. you did it every time you kissed his face. always aiming for a dot or a spot he loathed so much. it made him feel better about himself since the day that you told him that one of the many things that you loved about him were his marks. he was beautiful in your eyes, and that's all that mattered.

"you ever wanna leave?" steve knew what you meant.

leave Hawkins. leave behind the memories, good and bad. though it tugged out a lump in his throat, he did want to see something other than this boring, run down town. places with you, that he had only ever seen in the many pamphlets of his parent's vacation plannings. he wanted to visit those places himself, and he was so sick of his empty house.

"yes." steve said, with honesty, for the first time ever. you looked at him with hope, and something new. he meant it, the way he looked down at you, brown eyes deep with desire and a brightness you hadn't seen before tonight.

your hand came up to cradle his face, pulling him closer to yours, his breath fanning over your nose and cupids bow. a wide grin spread out across his lips. "run away with me?" he asked softly, like it was a secret only the two of you got to know.

with a nod, you smiled back. it felt scandalous, the whole affair. up and leaving town? no note, no notice to anyone until you got to your mystery destination and then maybe a call to dustin so he didn't have an aneurysm. "where're we going?" steve beamed at that, his partner in crime. with his lips against yours, you two could go anywhere.

"wherever you want. anywhere, anytime." and he meant it. in this moment, silent, aside from the wind and the cars below, you two could do anything.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader

[triviareads]

i just finished a novel you recommended (bed me duke! excellent!) and moved on to my usual annual re-read of northanger abbey and do you have any recommendations for romance novels for each austen couple? i think that would be pretty cool!

I love that! the Bed Me series has never failed me so far, and I'm very excited for book 4, Bed Me, Baronet (the hero's a blond and possibly a virgin based on ALL his friends speculating about him in each of their books lol). As for romance novels based on Austen couples, I'm gonna be a little selective here because I haven't actually read Sense and Sensibility (but I vaguely remember watching the movie) or Mansfield Park:

Pride and Prejudice

There are lots of romance novel adaptations of Pride and Prejudice, and there are even more claiming to be inspired by the "enemies to lovers" aspect of P&P EVEN IF IT'S NOT AN ENEMIES TO LOVERS ROMANCE. So my best recommendation would be Pride and Protest by Nikki Payne; it's a modern adaptation set in Washington D.C.; Liza is a local radio DJ and activist who meets Dorsey (a Filipino adoptee) and realizes they're on opposite sides of the gentrification situation occurring in DC. I loved how the book dealt with the class difference along with the added layer of race. It also modernized the "proposal" aspect really well imo because randomly asking a gal to marry you without even dating wouldn't necessarily work in the modern era BUT the proposal Dorsey put out there still felt inherently degrading to Liza even if she'd hooked up with him already (another change from the original, and an appreciated one).

Persuasion

Again the Magic by Lisa Kleypas: I'll forever recommend this; McKenna and Aline were childhood sweethearts before they were separated by her father the earl, because McKenna was a stableboy. Now he's uber-wealthy and resentful about what happened all those years ago BACK for REVENGE and by revenge I mean he's going to seduce Aline and... that's about it lol. Never has a man come back with more loathing/self-loathing with a plan that's so half-baked even his drunk friend is like "but are you sure buddy".

Full Moon Over Freedom by Angelina M. Lopez: Another second-chance romance; Gillian asked Nicky to take her virginity when they were teenagers and teach her about sex stuff before leaving for college. Now she's back and divorced, and they're skirting around each other and having multiple clandestine encounters even though they think it's all temporary. While there's not much of a class difference, you get the sense Nicky thought of himself as her bit o'rough and she was an unattainable princess-type to him.

The Legend of Lyon Redmond by Julie Anne Long: Second chance romance with love at first sight; There were a couple aspects that really reminded me of Persuasion; there's very similar language to Anne where Olivia is described as having "withered away" since Lyon left, and she refuses all other suitors. And! Lyon is a sailor like Wentworth except, well, not on the legal side of things lol. It's also just super romantic when they do reunite years later.

Emma

Bed Me, Baron by Felicity Niven: George and Phoebe are long-time friends who've known each other since she was a baby. She asks him for sex lessons so she can help her please her future husband who she's engaged to (not George lol). While there's not much of an age gap in this one (4 years), George Danforth is daddy so that should square you away there.

Olivia and the Masked Duke by Grace Callaway: Here's an Emma/Knightley-ish age gap, plus, Ben and Livy were family friends/friends since she was a kid. Later on, she sees him having sex with another woman in the stables and it's basically her sexual and romantic awakening, so she spends a lot of the book chasing after him while he's running for his life.... until he isn't. Sex-wise the vibes are daddy dom/mildly bratty.

Sense and Sensibility

The closest I could think of in terms of Marianne/Col. Brandon was Rosalind and Torrington from A Recipe for a Rogue by Kathleen Ayers. Like Marianne, Rosalind is initially horrified that an *older man* like Torrington might want to marry her (the number of old man-girdle and secretly balding hair jokes.... hilarious) and Rosalind avoids every attempt her mother makes to match them. Torrington is attracted to her from the get-go and slowly woos her by way of exchanging recipes, baked goods, and licking food off her thighs.

tbh I have no idea who'd fit Elinor/Edward's vibe.

Northanger Abbey

It's actually very hard to find heroes who have Henry Tilney's playful irreverence paired with Catherine's sweet naivete so I'm holding off on this one for now!

#book recs #kathleen ayers #angelina m lopez #grace callaway #felicity niven #julie anne long #lisa kleypas #nikki payne #historical romance #romance novels #contemporary romance #ask #jane austen #pride and prejudice