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novemberevenings · 3 months

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somewhere between the stars | chapter 1

Azriel is your best friend. The best, most brilliant, and dearest friend you have ever known. It gets harder and harder to separate your platonic and romantic feelings for him.

A/N: first chapter of this series!!! honestly wanted to write my own rendition of an angsty, mutual pining fic w my azzy <3 anyways this first part isn’t the longest but i’m posting it to motivate myself to write the next part!! (btw italics indicate a flash back!)

The night sky seems peaceful tonight, almost as if it were at ease. A chill night breeze brushes past, swirling in the soft grass in greeting. The branches of a nearby tree sway, the only sound being the soft caress of leaves. Lying with your head laid back against the grass, eyes closed in a mix of exhaustion and ecstasy.

At the feel of a soft, scarred hand brushing against your own, you open your eyes and tilt your head to the side. You’re greeted with a familiar and comforting sight. Your best friend's questioning gaze and furrowed brows make you quietly ask, “What's going on in that head of yours?”

It’s a phrase that you both have claimed as yours. When either of you needs to be dragged out of your thoughts, the other won’t hesitate to ask to ground you back to the present.

He’s quiet for a moment, trying to find the words that are jumbled up in his head. He turns to look at the sky once again before asking, “Do you think they’re watching us?”

“Who?” His question puzzles you, not quite understanding where it's coming from.

“The stars, the moon. I dunno, maybe the entire sky.” You’re used to his weird questions. It’s become a thing that you’ve got going on between the two of you. “If they are, I hope they don’t snitch on us.”

This earns you a light chuckle, his head slightly shaking from laughter. Realistically, the sight of two younglings watching the stars at night shouldn’t be a problem. But for a boy who has to wake up for training early in the morning and a girl who has to continue with her apprenticeship, they could get punished for being out this late at night.

“I like to think that they are. Watching over us, I mean.”

“Az, that’s kinda really creepy.”

He laughs indignantly, lightly shoving at your shoulder. It’s silent again, but you can tell he wants to say more, so you wait. “There’s just… so much out there, you know? It’s so big, and there’s so much we don’t know. I like thinking that, somewhere out there, someone’s looking out for us.”

You take a second to just marvel at the way he thinks. A sudden feeling of gratitude and pride washes over you at being one of the few people who gets to see this side of him. The side of him that’s bright and curious, hopeful.

You turn your head back towards the sky, looking at the stars and the empty spaces between them. Your best friend’s words are still in your head, trying to form an answer.

When you look back at him, you find his gaze already on you. He looks at you just like how he looks at the night sky, with reverence and utter devotion. It compels you to reply, “Well, regardless of who’s out there, I’ll always look out for you.”

He gives you a soft smile, the one that you’ve come to treasure and look forward to. “I’ll always look out for you, too.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Tucked into a corner in the library at the House of Wind, your eyes roam over the page you’re reading. You were catching up on some old texts, brushing up on your knowledge of some spells. As the sorceress of the Inner Court, you always wanted to ensure you could protect your family.

A clock nearby chimes, and you poke your head out to check the time. It was almost time for dinner, but you still wanted to finish the chapter you were reading. Going back to your book, it wasn’t long until the doors to the library slammed open, surprising a couple of priestesses nearby, an arrogant General waltzing in looking to find you.

“You know, Cass, they expect silence in a library.” Closing the book with a resounding snap, you stand up from the cozy armchair you’d been sitting in, returning the book to its rightful place on a nearby shelf. “Lovely to see you too, my dearest Y/N.”

You half-heartedly roll your eyes at him but take the arm he’s offering as he leads you out of the library. The two of you exchange stories of the day, Cassian recounting training with the Valkyries that morning. You listen to him intently, but you stop in your tracks when he says, “Az is coming home tonight.”

“He is?” Your eyes widen as relief washes over you, not realizing how worried and tense you have been throughout the past week since Azriel was gone on a mission.

“Yeah, sent Rhys a message ‘bout an hour ago.”

At your look of shock and surprise, Cassian follows up with, “He didn’t tell you?”

You softly shake your head, dismissing him. “I’m sure he was just really busy with work. It’s fine, Cass. Nothing to worry about.”

Your soft, encouraging smile did nothing to ease Cassian’s worry, but he didn’t push on the subject.

There had been this rift growing between you and Az. Both of you had been quite busy with your duties, Az especially. But you can’t help but feel there’s something else that’s causing this, and you hate it. Your friendship with him is one of the best things in your life, and the idea of losing him was… devastating. You don’t think you would be able to survive it.

But you plan on fixing it as soon as he gets back. A simple conversation will fix this, you’re sure.

“Alright, come on then.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was a calm night in the House of Wind. Everyone had gathered for weekly family dinner, and all was well. Everyone except for Azriel, that is.

To say you were tense and anxious would be an understatement. Even a blind man could see just how worried you were. While everyone else was lounging in their seats and sipping their glasses of wine, you sat with your back straight, hands fiddling with each other nervously.

“Loosen up a little, Y/N! Cauldron, you look like someone just killed your puppy.” You roll your eyes at Cassian’s teasing. Sometimes, you worry your eyes would be stuck at the back of your head whenever you’re with him.

“Oh, give her a break, Cass. We all know why she’s acting this way.” Mor says, trying to lighten your mood.

And it’s true. Everyone gathered around you knows exactly why you were so tense and worried. Despite Azriel sending you a message that he would be back tonight, your worry would not disappear until you saw him with your own two eyes, safe and unharmed.

It was no secret to anyone how close the two of you were. Best friends ever since you met each other in Windhaven. Your friendship was one of the constants in your life, forever a source of comfort. He was your closest confidant, the shoulder you could always lean on, the first person you celebrate the good news with, and the first person to wipe your tears away when you cry.

He wasn’t just your best friend. He was… your best everything.

You tried your best to enjoy the night, joking with your family and catching up on each other’s day. Although your worry wasn’t completely gone, the presence of your family always put you at ease, love pouring through every interaction.

“As I was saying, wing-warmers should totally be a thing. You don’t know just how much the cold affects our wings. I feel like an oversized icicle flying around the–”

Cassian stops mid-rant as a figure appears in the doorway. Everyone follows his line of sight at his silence, your head quickly snapping towards the doorway.

And just like that, a week’s worth of worry and anxiety melts from your body. The sight of Azriel in his leathers, all seven siphons gleaming, is one you’ve longed for.

“Az,” you sigh softly in relief.

“Hi,” he replies. That soft smile you think is reserved just for you spreads across his face, eyes crinkling a little at the edges.

That one word was all it took for you to fly out of your seat, running towards him at full speed. He catches you, bringing you into his warm embrace immediately. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms as tight as you can around his neck. In response, Azriel buries his nose into your hair, tightening his grip around your waist.

You pull back slightly, your arms holding his shoulders so you can better scan his body for any injuries.

At the worry in your face, Azriel asks, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You notice his attempt to lighten your mood and snark right back at him. “Nothing, just thinking about how much you stink.”

He lets out a chuckle, and you can feel his chest vibrate from your proximity. “And here I thought you missed me.”

You stay in his embrace for a little longer, feeling grateful that he’s returned unharmed, and take a moment to just look at him, reminding yourself that he’s back. A cough sounds from somewhere behind you. “Hello? Care to share him with the rest of us?”

Rhys’ impatient yet teasing tone makes you and Azriel laugh, pulling apart to let the other members of your family greet him.

You stand back, watching him embrace everyone else. Finally, you feel settled, like a part of you was missing, and now you’re whole again. You try your best not to think too much about what that might mean, wanting just to enjoy the fact that your best friend is back.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

#azriel/reader #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #azriel x you #azriel #azriel shadowsinger x reader

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waldau · 5 months

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hi!! i really love the way you write for wonwoo♡♡♡ could i request wonwoo+friends to lovers(something like she fell first but he fell harder kinda trope?)

thank you so much anon! also you're my first ever request! i hope i did this trope justice, because as much as i love established relationships i don't think i've ever really done much for friends to lovers.

crush — jeon wonwoo | 2,193 words | fluff

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

it hits wonwoo like a sledgehammer.

he's glad he's already sitting in his usual seat at the table, because there probably couldn't be a worse time to realize he's in love with you. when you're out on a date with someone else, and when these dates look like they're going to become a steady fixture in your life; something that he's going to have to learn how to make peace with.

wonwoo doesn't just love you. he's in love with you, and he's grappling with the realization of how many months he's missed without knowing the extent of his own feelings for you.

he wishes there was some manual that told him what to do when you had feelings for your roommate. when said roommate happened to be your best friend you'd try to ask out if you weren't so afraid of ruining the friendship.

since the end of high school and the beginning of college, wonwoo's always had you by his side — whether it be in the same classes, or the same friend group — hell, he's lost count of the number of nights you spent together, watching movies instead of trying to get some sleep for the next day.

(maybe there was a reason why he chose horror movies sometimes, even though you were scared of them.)

he thinks back to all the times your friends joked you were practically dating — that never annoyed him. he was merely surprised at the idea of dating you. you had always been his best friend; nothing more. you were a constant fixture in his life that he didn't see in any other way.

but now? wonwoo wishes he could turn back time and see what could have happened. would you have had the same inside jokes you do now, the same ease that comes with learning to co-exist by carving each other's shapes into your lives?

he looks up from his laptop at the sound of the wind rattling the windows. but he's the only one home.

you're out on your second date in the past two weeks with this guy named seungcheol. for the past two weeks, wonwoo hasn't been able to put a finger on why he hasn't been so keen on this guy you're seeing, despite the fact that seungcheol sounds like nothing but a gentleman.

and now he knows why.

he's heard a lot about how funny and smart and nice seungcheol is, from taking you to your favourite restaurant for a date to leaving you at your doorstep at the end of your night out.

wonwoo wants to argue that he, too, does the same thing for you. he holds doors open for you and gives you his beanie when you're cold and lets you have his popcorn when yours is done, but you just don't see him that way. and he doesn't know what to do to make you see him that way.

he focuses on his laptop again. the words all seem jumbled, and he's pretty sure he's been on the same page for the past half hour. so he takes his glasses off and lets his eyes rest. only to remember the time you took his glasses off when he was almost about to fall asleep on the sofa.

you're loving. it's something he's learned from you. you're always looking out for others, always concerned, wanting them to know you're there in the subtlest ways possible.

wonwoo always wants you around, and now has an irrational worry that he won't have you for much longer. his heart starts hurting — really, physically hurting, like a deep pain in his chest that can't be satiated by anything. he didn't know it was possible, but it's all he can feel right now.

he tries to think about anything else. those few people he'd dated back in college, whose names he can't even remember now. he hasn't dated anyone in the past two years since you graduated, got a job and moved into this flat together.

wonwoo hadn't known what to expect when it came to living with you, because as much as you were best friends, you'd never shared a living space together beyond a night's time. now over the course of the last twenty five months, he's become accustomed to you, and he's afraid he's ruined it all by realizing he's fallen in love with you far too late.

part of that is definitely your fault, he reasons. he wouldn't blame seungcheol for falling in love, either.

the thought of you on your date hurts him enough that he picks up his pen and scratches something on the notepad lying next to his laptop. his strokes are harsh and drawn without care, but when he stops, it's a rough sketch of your favourite flowers.

he lets out a bitter laugh. everything always circles back to you, in the end.

you don't ask for anything on your birthday, but wonwoo always gets you a bouquet of your favourite flowers alongside your gifts, because he knows how much you love them.

he wonders if seungcheol knows they're your favourite.

he's shaken out of his thoughts when you open the door to your shared house and step inside, almost tiptoeing, like you're afraid of making noise. you freeze when you see him looking at you. he wonders how long he's been sitting there, mind blank but also filled with thoughts of you. it's eating him up like a slow poison from the inside, but he forces himself to hold your gaze.

you look amazing. more than that, you look happy.

he's not jealous. he's never jealous when you're happy. but he just wants you to be happy with him, and he doesn't know if he's enough.

he wants to know what it'd be like to take you out. he wants to know everything that makes you smile, because he still learns something new about you almost every day. he wants to know what it's like to hold hands with you, kiss you goodnight, and wake up every morning knowing you're there by his side and his side only.

he wants more than he can possibly have.

"hey, wonwoo," you say, shutting the door behind you before you take off your shoes. "couldn't sleep?"

"no. i wanted to wait till you came back."

you frown at him. "i told you not to."

as if he could ever do that. whether you go out on dates, or to parties with your friends, wonwoo can't relax till he knows you're back home, safe. he just shrugs. this is one thing he'll always be stubborn about.

"did you have dinner?" you ask, ruffling his hair and moving past him to presumably fix yourself a snack before you go to bed.

"yeah," he says, looking back at the laptop. the letters are still jumbled, so he cleans his glasses before putting them back on. "unless last night's pizza doesn't count."

"that's a lot of words for no," you say. "are instant noodles okay?"

"of course."

wonwoo watches as you move around, putting back today afternoon's dried dishes into their respective places and filling a glass of water for yourself.

"did you have fun tonight?"

"yeah," you say, a smile on your face. "cheol picked out this movie i've been wanting to watch for a while. then we went to this hole-in-the-wall cafe that was surprisingly nice. and then he dropped me home."

wonwoo tries not to react at the nickname you already have for him. he's not jealous, but it's getting harder to convince himself of that. he looks at your jacket. it looks...not quite your style.

"is that new?" he asks, pointing at it.

"what? oh, this? seungcheol asked me to return it to him the next time. it was pretty cold today."

wonwoo's hand crumples the note before he realizes. next time? why couldn't he have realized how much he loved you before all of this had to happen?

"you okay?" you ask, turning around to look at him. "come here and tell me if it tastes fine."

"it's just instant noodles," he pretends to grumble, but waits for you to feed him some. he can see you're a bit tired. he wishes you'd fall asleep on him, the way you do when you're stubborn enough to want to keep him company with whatever he's doing.

"tastes good," he hums, licking his lips.

did he just imagine your eyes looking at them before they moved back to his face?

"great. hand me those bowls from there?"

you using him for his height is a running joke he hopes never gets old. wonwoo takes out the cutlery too, but stops when he sees an angry red line on your hand.

"what happened to you?" he asks, holding your hand so he can see it clearly. he tries not to think about how much bigger his hand is. the cut isn't bleeding, but it's still there, starkly visible against your skin.

you hesitate. "i'm not sure. i remember my hand hit something in the cafe, but i didn't see it till now."

"and you didn't bother checking it once you got home?"

you look at him. "i didn't even feel it that much, woo."

"you could have tetanus for all you know!"

"it's just a cut! it's hardly that ser—"

you stop talking when wonwoo switches on the tap and turns off the stove. "take this off," he says, pointing to the jacket. it shouldn't even be in your home. he shouldn't be feeling like this in the first place.

you comply wordlessly, hand limp in his as he washes it thoroughly, before patting it dry with the towel near the sink and finding a bandaid in the cabinet above. you have a propensity for getting hurt randomly and wonwoo's glad to be prepared.

"done," he says, letting go of your hand. you're still looking at him.

"kiss it better?" you ask. there's a mischievous look in your eyes.

and who is he to refuse? he takes your hand back, gently pressing a kiss to it, making sure it's not too forceful. when your eyes meet again, he gets the feeling there's something in the air. even you seem to be aware of it. it's like the tipping point before the scales lose their balance, like the calm before the storm; it's now or never.

"one more time?" you ask, moving a bit closer. wonwoo swears he forgets how to breathe. and he definitely isn't imagining your eyes on his lips this time.

"always," he says, before he leans down to press his lips to yours.

it's magic. there's no other word for it. wonwoo feels like he's transcending worlds when he feels your lips against his, trying to press yourself into him when you wrap your hands around his waist.

when you pull apart, wonwoo swears you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life. this is what he wants, and he'll be damned if he doesn't try to find out what could have been.

"please don't go out with him again?"

"...what?"

wonwoo swallows, letting go of your hand. his bravery now comes and goes like waves on the seashore, tides threatening to spill out everything he feels about you in one careless motion.

"i don't want you to go out with him again."

"because...we kissed?"

"because i'd never let you get hurt if you were with me."

"you...what?"

"i like you," he says, taking a step closer. "i don't know what that meant to you, but i like you so much, and i hate that it took me this long to realize it. i want...i want you to give me a chance."

"you like me?" you ask, voice smaller than before.

he nods. "i want to...take you out on a date. wherever you want. i want to make you laugh. it's been killing me, thinking about you with him."

"oh, my god," you say, burying your face in your hands. wonwoo's heart drops. "why would you— i've been trying to get over you all this while, going out on dates with him so i can stop thinking about you that way, and now you're just...giving me what i've always wanted?

wonwoo feels like he's been drenched in ice-cold water. "you like me?" he parrots. he doesn't know what to do with his hands, so he pulls you in for a hug. even this simple gesture suddenly feels like a brand new thing in the light of your recent confessions.

your hands find their place around his waist again, your chin on his chest, looking up at him. "of course i do. i'm surprised you didn't realize earlier. it's been...a while."

this is news to him. "how long, exactly?"

you bow your head, not meeting his eyes, "i'm not telling you now."

"you can't hide anything from me, you know."

he can feel your smile against his chest. "i know. let me just have this for now?"

"forever."

you tighten your grip around his waist and just stand with him.

wonwoo makes a mental note to get you a bunch of real flowers.

#i'm not fully happy with this but i TRIED and i think pining wonwoo is so ^&*%$!@#also coups because he sort of crept into my bias line last week. what a man #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #wonwoo #fluff #waldau writes #req #🍃 — svt

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centrally-unplanned · 1 year

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The Clarkesworld AI Spam issue is one of those stories that to me really highlights the limits of the tools that hype is obscuring. Clarkesworld is a well-established Sci-Fi publishing magazine that today had to suspend all of its submissions due to being overwhelmed by ChatGPT generated entries:

This inspired a lot of discourse around the idea of a ‘crisis of credibility’ on the internet, AI sweeping away the boundries of authenticity in a flood of forgeries. How can magazines even operate in this new environment, one might ask?

Which is weird because this environment isn’t new at all, as the editor, Neil Clarke, comments on in his blog post around the problem:

Since the early days of the pandemic, I’ve observed an increase in the number of spammy submissions to Clarkesworld. What I mean by that is that there’s an honest interest in being published, but not in having to do the actual work. Up until recently, these were almost entirely cases of plagiarism, first by replacing the author’s name and then later by use of programs designed to “make it your own.”

The issue isn’t that spam exists, its the quantity:

This is undoubtably a gigantic spike, and 100% it is induced by ChatGPT.

But hold on - is ChatGPT actually *better* at this that previous spam tools? Niel doesn’t think so, even if he is worried about the future:

I’m not going to detail how I know these stories are “AI” spam or outline any of the data I have collected from these submissions. There are some very obvious patterns and I have no intention of helping those people become less likely to be caught...

... What I can say is that the number of spam submissions resulting in bans has hit 38% this month. While rejecting and banning these submissions has been simple, it’s growing at a rate that will necessitate changes. To make matters worse, the technology is only going to get better, so detection will become more challenging.

And how expensive was the plagarism before to do anyway? It was copy-pasting text, automated word replacement programs, and done, that is trivial. Its a little harder than ChatGPT, sure, but you could make a thousand in a day no sweat, automated scripts randomizing names and jumbling nouns from a list.

The success rate also seems to be zero! Neither plagarism nor ChatGPT generates any story worth a damn, these aren’t being accepted. Neil is quite confident he is catching 100% of them and I believe him on that, these tools cannot write good fiction of any length beyond a paragraph.

So what is the ChatGPT’s advantage over previous, ‘dumber’ spam that justifies a 100-fold increase in spam usage? I am not seeing one, and I don’t think there is one besides marginally lower per-spam costs. Phrased another way, what was stopping someone from submitted 500 spam entries in one month in 2021? Nothing but interest in doing so.

Which is the rub of why this is happening - it isn’t because ChatGPT is good at this task, its because its the hype thing to do. Everyone is talking about it, everyone is trying it out, everyone is trying to find “delta” so they can ride the hype train. A bunch of people, some who may have even had axes to grind against Clarkesworld, have heard of this brand new fun tool and are flooding into the market to take advantage of it. But there might not be much to take advantage of; hype is fleeting, particularly in the face of no results as this effort is getting. As it fails, unless that axe really needs grinding above all else, spammers will move.

All of this to say that this story is, again, not a story about AI at all. AI is just the reason these already-bad parts of the system are being tested in the public eye.

#ai discourse

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charmac · 1 month

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Any other cool little bits from your coversation with Charlie? It is so awesome you got to meet all the guys!!!

There was so much stuff and I’m not sure how much I have shared/a lot is jumbled now bc it was a long day, drinking, and a loud bar, lol, but a few things:

Charlie was bragging to the guys next to us at the bar that Sunny is the wordiest show on television :,)

A woman demanded Charlie make her a cocktail, she returned it and made him fix it, he did, and then he said, “they don’t even let me bartend on the fictional show!” Which killed me.

He reiterated to us that they wanted to go with ‘my idea’ (😭) of Mac and Dennis still having inflatable furniture

This convo is kinda fuzzy but I remember he said they write episodes with the intent of surprising the audience, and if they get into the writers room and they find they’re just repeating something or not saying anything new, they either won’t move forward or they’ll go look for a way to catch the audience off guard (S16 has A LOT of this, which is I think what he was talking about)

My friend told him we miss when they used to do legit promotional stuff and photos, and he said he doesn’t really see (not involved in) what they do with that and merch nowadays

Again, he took so much time to talk to us and really truly just talked to us like we were kind of on the same level. I can’t stop thinking about how little opportunity he probably gets to do that with Sunny outside of the creative team. And it seems like he and Glenn did talk a lot/their minds were really on Season 17 this past weekend :)

(Also, I overheard a guy ask Glenn about S17 ‘this year’ and he told him due to the Writers Strikes pushing their schedules back, they wouldn’t be getting out a new season until next year. We knew this based on other things being said, but wanted to reiterate!)

It’s very cool I’ve met them all now and what’s like... Idk more insane?.. is that I appreciate them all even more now. They’re all just very real people, that are creating something they love and care about, and are genuinely excited and happy to get to talk about it whenever they can. Idk, I feel like we couldn’t have asked for a better experience. I hope they do more stuff in other states so more people can get to meet them and share their love for the show too! They love talking about their little show!!

#iasip #ask #charlie day #i’ve met.#so many actors #like over 100 #and charlie day is #without a doubt #by far #the greatest creative i have ever met #and have ever talked to #it’s nuts #oc

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riverlikethelake · 1 year

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A Long Way Home Part.5 (1/2)

Aonung x Omatikayan!Fem!Reader

Summary –The fight with the demon ship takes everything out of you, the life of your family riding on your shoulders. Ao'nung holds you close, your life going by with him by your side.

Contains: Mentions of death, complex parental relationships, heavy development on platonic/family relationships, fluff, pregnancy, mentions of childbirth, ANGST, not proofread sorry, not what i wanted to write but y'all we gonna shank me so

Pt.1 ... Pt.5 (2/2) *alternate ending*

Word count: 5k

FINAL PART... aside from the alternate ending: Pt.5 (2/2)

You sneak through the ceiling, watching soldiers and crew members walk around, you keep your eye out for Spider. You spot soldiers turning the corner, escorting Spider between them, you signal to Neteyam and Lo’ak.

You wait till they were under you to drop down, knocking one of them to the ground and pulling off their oxygen mask, Neteyam and Lo’ak follow after you, fighting the recoms and other soldiers. Once Spider realizes what’s happening, he kicks at a soldier and pulls off their mask.

You hear gunshots and grab Spider and Lo’ak, pulling them to a wall, hiding you from the bullets. Neteyam grabs the gun from Lo’ak and started shooting from around the corner. “Go go go!” he yelled.

Without thinking, your grab his hand and pull him along as you run and jump over the railing. Adrenaline pumping through your veins, you can hear your heart pounding in your chest as you hear the bullets flying past you. You hit the water and you almost gasp from the shock, still holding onto Neteyam’s hand, you resurface.

“Come, quickly get on!” You hear Tsireya call from her ilu, you look over to your brother, seeing how he’s struggling in the water, fear bubbling in your throat.

“Bro, Sis, c’mon!” You hear Lo’ak yell. All you can do is freeze as Neteyam struggles to breathe. “Go! Leav me” he gasps out “I am shot”

Your ears start to ring as you look down, blood seeping through the water. Without a second thought you grab him and start pulling him towards the ilu, Lo’ak taking over and holding Neteyam on his back. As you move forward in the water, your head is jumbled, thoughts running through your head a mile a minute.

Slowley you look up, one thought clear as day in your mind. You search his back, just the tiniest bit of relief floods your chest when you see a clear back. As you approach the rock, Jake runs up, assesing the situation.

“He’s been shot” Spider yells, Jake jumps into action as they all carry him to stable ground. You watch the same bit of relief wash over Jake as he looks at Neteyam’s back, seeing a lack of exit wound. Your reathing is uneasy, but you jump into action to put pressure on Neteyam’s wound, just where his shoulder meets his chest.

“Call Norm now” Jake orders Lo’ak before turning his attention to his son. “Hey we’re gonna get you all patched up ok?” He tries to steady his voice. Neteyam’s eyes flutter, darting from person to person. You hear Neytiri’s Ikran land and she’s in front of Neteyam, cradling his face in her hands.

You can’t tear your eyes away from him, it feels like the whole world freezes when you make eye contact with him. You didn’t realize your hands were shaking until Ao’nung placed his over yours, breathing in as you tried to keep the pressure steady.

“I want to go home” Neteyam’s voice was quiet, desperate. “We’re going home, we’re going home” Jake comforted, his voice cracking. You felt your brothers breathing become faint under you, you watched as his eyes started to flutter close.

“Dad I-” His words died on the tip of his tongue, the light in his eyes draining. You could still feel his heartbeat, it was weak, but you felt it. “Nononono” You gasped, grabbing your father's hands and shoving them to his chest. “Do- do the thing!” You screamed, tears welling in your eyes as Neytiri started to cry out.

“DO THE THING” Your throat hurt from the screech that left you, you moved your hands out from under Ao’nung’s and pinched Neteyam’s nose, lifting his chin up and leaning down to breathe into his mouth. You learned this move years ago; you didn’t know if it would actually work but you needed to try. You felt Jake start the compressions on his chest and pulled back, cradling your brother's face in your hands.

You heard Lo’ak speaking into his throat mic, explaining the situation to Norm. Tears started to spill from your eyes as you leaned in to deliver the rescue breaths. You pulled back and started to heave, tears flowing from your eyes, gasping for air. You stumbled back to get out of the way as Neytiri took your place and Lo’ak started applying the pressure.

Ao’nung wrapped his arms around you, pulling your head to his chest, taking deep breaths. Slowley you started to regulate your breathing, you looked back at the sinking ship and your blood froze. ‘Tuk and Kiri have been captured’ You remember Tsireya saying. Without another word you stood up and stalked to the edge of the rock, calling for your ilu.

You ignored the calls for your name and jumped into the water, swimming to the ship. Your brother was in good hands, your sisters were not.

You snuck onto the ship, hiding in corners before crawling back into the ceiling, not wanting to provoke any more soldiers. Except for the one that shot Neteyam.

You slipped through the hallways, looking out for soldiers and your sisters. You lost your balance as the ship shook, the sound of an explosion ringing through your ears, the only explanation that came to mind was dad...

You turned a corner and spotted Kiri and Tuk, relief flooding your chest when you saw they were unharmed. Without thinking, you ran to them, taking out your knife to free them from their binds. “Y/n!” Tuk called out, you watched her eyes move from you to behind you, before you could register the panic in her voice you were being yanked back.

A tall avatar held you by your wrist, holding you in the air so you could barely stand on your toes. You cried out when he tightened his grip, a hiss escaping his lips. “Another one of his runts huh?” He grunted, he glanced between you and your sisters before placing a hand over your mouth and pulling you away.

Jake crept through the ship, following Spiders directions until he came across Kiri and Tuk, the weight on his chest leaving as he stepped closer to them. “Dad!” Tuk called out, he smiled and pulled his knife out to cut her restraints.

“They have Y/n!” Kiri explained as Jake cut her restraints, he looked up to her, freezing as panic took over again. Before he could say anything, Quaritch rounded the corner, holding a knife to your throat. Jake moved Kiri and Tuk behind him, holding his hands up.

Your breathing sputtered as Quaritch pressed the knife closer to your throat. “Dad! Just go, please-” your voice cracked as Quaritch jostled you, hissing at your outburst. Jake sucked in a breath, watching your face contort in fear and pain.

“Let her go, she has nothing to do with this.” He states. Quaritch chuckles, he pulls out a restraint from his pocket and tosses it to Jake “Bind yourself to that railing.” He nods to where Kiri and Tuk were kept.

“Dad don’t do it!” You yelled, you got yourself into this mess, you can’t lose your dad because of it. Quaritch hissed again, driving the tip of his dagger into your neck. You froze, holding in your breaths.

Jake bent down to pick up the restraints when Spider jumped out from the side. “Don’t hurt her!” He yelled, Quaritch barely spared him a glance. “Please don’t hurt her she’s my sister!” you felt Quaritch scoff.

“Sister? She's not even the same species.” He sneered. Spider shook his head “She was an orphaned human like me, just please don’t hurt her-” He was cut off when Neytiri grabbed him, pressing a knife to his throat, mirroring Quaritch’s stance. He jolted, sucking in a breath.

“Let her go, or I cut.” She seethed. You stared at your mother, you could feel the rage radiating off her, she kept her eyes on Quaritch. The man holding you puffed out his chest. “You think I care about him? He's not my son, we’re not even the same species” He states.

You make eye contact with Spider, he shakes his head before you look to your mother. “Mom don’t hurt him!” You cry. She gaze doesn’t leave the Avatar behind you, her gaze darkens and she slices Spider’s chest. He cries out, you feel Quaritch flinch.

Neytiri stares at Quaritch, he shakes his head. “a son for a son” Neytiri’s voice drips with venom, sending a shiver down your spine. you reach your hand out “MOM!” as she yells and brings her knife up, ready to attack Spider, you try to scream but before you can, the man is throwing you out several feet ahead of him.

You stumble, Kiri and Tuk are at your side, pulling you away from the man and behind mom. Neytiri stares at him before letting Spider go, shoving him to the side where you and Kiri pull him towards you. You place a hand on his chest where the cut is before you and Kiri pull him in for a hug.

“I owe you a life” Quaritch growls to your mother as Jake starts to herd you all away and into the water. You grab Tuk’s hand, but she reaches out for Neytiri. “Mom...” her voice is soft; it breaks your heart.

“You’re not gonna leave are you Sully?” Quaritch asks, pulling Jakes attention. “I will hunt you down, kill every last one of your family, I will not stop” You stare at the man, the hairs on your neck standing up at his declaration. You don’t have time to blink before Jake is lunging at the man, pushing him far away from your family.

“C’mon” You hear Kiri call, Neytiri grabs your hand and starts to lead you away when Tuk slips as the water starts to rush in. Your hold on her hand tightens as she gets pulled down into an open hatch, the water rising and pulling her down with it. “TUK!” You yell, her screams filinf you with dread, your adrenaline taking over.

You feel her start to slip, so you let go of Neytiri to grab her forearm, you lean back but the ship shakes, making you lose balance, sending you both barreling down into the flooding hatch. As you hit the water, you pull Tuk closer and she latches onto you, legs wrapped around your stomach and arms around your neck. You gasp, wrapping your arms around her, keeping you both above the water.

You feel a pair of arms grasp your shoulders; you look to see Neytiri leading you forward. “Mom!” you cry, stumbling forward, desperate to find and exit. “parultsyìp, come” she states breathlessly.

You stumble through the ship hallways, holding Tuk close as your mother searches for an exit. The ship starts to turn, you scream as you almost fall but Neytiri keeps a tight grasp on your arm. Your limbs grow heavy, your legs and arms are sore, tears start to threaten your eyes as you can only go deeper into the demon ship.

Neytiri pulls at a door, but the rising water shuts it every time, “Mom pull harder!” Tuk cries. You set her down, making sure she can hold herself up before you step in to help your mother pull the door. Your arms scream at you as you pull as hard as you can, but can only gasp, a cry escaping you as it slams closed again.

Neytiri frantically looks around as Tuk swims into your arms again, you follow her as she swims in the only direction she can, It's only a few feet before you meet a dead end, the water filling up the hallway you were previously in.

You purse your lips, holding Tuk’s head to your chest as Neytiri wraps her arms around you. “Mom what are we gonna do?” Tuk wails. Neytiri just rests her hand on Tuk’s head and looks around, whispering quiet comforts to her.

“Sa’nu...” you whsiper, tears welling in your eyes. Neytiri whips her head to you, it was a phrase you had long since retired. “I’m sorry... I’m so sorry Sa’nu” your voice cracks. You don’t know what exactly you’re apologizing for, for failing to pull Tuk up, for being disobedient, for everything.

She places a hand on your head and places her forehead on yours “maite, ma yuey maite...” she murmured, a sob escaping your lips. “I am sorry for being so hard on you, I am sorry for my harsh words” She places a kiss on your cheek “you are my daughter Y/n, my beautiful strong daughter.”

A few tears escape your eyes, she leans down and kisses Tuk’s forehead, running her hand across the young girl's head. The water level was rising rapidly, you tried to stay calm, but fear coursed through your veins.

Is this how you die? You hadn’t apologized to dad yet, Neteyam could be alive, and you had no idea what’s happening with Kiri Spider and Lo’ak.... You held your breath to resist the tears, determined to keep calm for your little sister and mother.

You take Tuk’s hand and place it on your chest, taking deep breaths. Without question she follows, syncing her breathing with yours. You stare at eachother, breathing together for several moments. You’re about to speak when you see a faint light beaming through the darkened hallway.

Slowley it grows brighter until a swarm of glowing squids flooded the hallway, it’s light illuminating your mother and sister face. A smile spread across your face as Tuk called out for her sister, spotting her rounding the corner. You dunked underwater as Neytiri stretched her arms and pulled Kiri close.

You hugged her, a swarm of emotions flooding your chest. She removed the Txampaysye from her back and handed it to your mother “Here mom, this will help you breathe underwater” she whispered, turning to you and Tuk “Now deep breathes you two” and with that you held Tuk and Kiri’s hand as you guided your through the ship, the glowing squids illuminating your way.

Slowly you made your way through the ship and up, resurfacing with a deep gasp for air. You relish in the cool air nipping at your face until Kiri tugs as you, pulling you towards the Tulkun that was heading your direction.

Exhausted, you collapsed on the fin your family clung to, your father's hand gripping tight on your shoulder as you held Tuk under your arm. He moved his hand to cup your cheek, gazing deep into your eyes, he repeated the same phrase he said to Lo’ak. “I see you” he croaked, sore from the brawl he had with Quaritch “My beautiful daughter”.

The sun is bright, creeping into your Marui, the light making your eyes flutter open. You groan and roll on your side, desperate for a few more minutes of rest. You hear a chuckle and the arms around you tighten, bringing you closer to them. “Restless this morning my muntxate?” His voice is gruff and mellow.

You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck and cuddling closer “Ao’nung my yawntu, my feet are especially sore this morning” you groaned. You smile into his neck before pushing him away and turning onto your stomach, arms holding you up.

A wave of nausea passes over you, you seldom throw up during these episodes but Ao’nung still grabs a bowl and places in under your hanging head. He reaches over, rubbing your back and whispering swwt mothings into your ear. After a moment you groan and fall into his touch, he moved you to lay on your back and slides his arms under you and lift you up.

“It is ok my Y/n” He struts out of the Marui and across the walkways “Tsireya and Mother will have a remedy for you” He assures, walking his old Marui. You hiss as your eyes burn, trying to open them and adjust to the morning light.

You weakly pushed at his chest “Please I do not need to be coddles, I am a child, I am with child” you reasoned, he chuckled and tightened his hold on you.

He arrives at his destination quickly, greeting his mother before setting you down in one of the hammocks. “Sa’nok, her pain and nausea has increased this morning” he calmly explains, smiling at your frowning face.

“It is because your son will not let me sleep in or adjust to a more comfortable position in the night” You exclaim, sitting up as the Tsahik makes her way to you. Ao’nung rolls his eyes and pinches your cheek lightly, Ronal frowns and swats his hand away. Tsireya makes quick work of the herbs she had splayed out in front of her, already prepared for your morning visit.

“Maitan I have raised you better than this, you pushed her too far yesterday now she is in pain” Ronal scolds her son, placing a hand on your forehead and handing you a ground up herb on a leaf. Ao’nung huffs, sitting down and holding your hand in his. “Mother you quite literally fought the demon ship 6 months pregnant, apologies of I'm not familiar with... this” he defended, motioning to your state at his last word.

Ronal glared at him “I had already gone through two other pregnancies and was not recovering from säspxin!” She berated. Tsireya and you locked eyes, giggling at the scene.

Ao’nung’s words brought you back to that day, how scared you were, how you watched your brother get shot, how it was the day you felt like you were officially accepted into the Sully family. Everything seemed to change after that.

You remember how Ao’nung held you as you watched Norm and Max practically perform surgery on Neteyam, how tightly he squeezed your hand when they cauterized the wound. How you stayed by his side, worried sick for days as he recovered.

You and Ao’nung continued to see each other, now with your parents proudly supporting you. Ronal wasn’t thrilled but she saw your spirit during the battle, she listened closely to the stories Neytiri and Ao’nung recited about your bravery. She didn’t approve, but she no longer objected.

It was a while until she warmed up to you, she now treated and spoke of you as if you were her own child. It took you many months of sticking by Ao’nung’s side and insisting on learning from the Tsahik to earn her blessing for him to officially court you, slowly she started inviting you to family dinners and occasions more often, keeping you close by her side in deep conversation. You still remember the proud smile she wore when you and Ao’nung announced you were mated before Eywa.

“Y/n do not worry, your discomfort will subside once you enter the coming stages” Tsireya hums, putting you at ease. Ronal places her hand on your stomach, closing her eyes and humming, she moves her hand along in familiar patterns before pulling away.

“Your baby is strong” She states, a small smile gracing her lips. You look to Ao’nung, grinning sheepishly.

You and Ao’nung waited a few years after mating to have children, wanting to enjoy being together before starting a family. It wasn’t long after you mated that you and Ao’nung decided to leave the reef and explore Pandora. It was hard to leave your family, but you kept in contact with your communication devices. You called often, Tuk always begging to hear your voice.

The day you left, Ronal and Neytiri gifted you both a songcord of your presence in the family in clan, it told stories of your lives and how they wove together, leading into your place and establishment in the clan and family. It was a reminder of how the Metkayina are your home while you traveled. It was unfinished, meant to record your travels together until you came back.

You and Ao’nung sang the song almost every night, adding beads and bits of the places you visited as you went. You traveled for three and a half years before coming back home just in time for you and Neteyam’s 22nd birthday.

You told them of your travels, the people you met and the places you saw. It was unorthodox to say the least, many clans were hesitant to teach you their ways while you were there, knowing your stay was temporary. But by the time for you to continue on your way, many members would gift you with tools and beads to add to your songcord.

Living on the go with Ao’nung freed something you had craved to feel your entire life, it was a type of freedom, adventure, that you wanted to experience with only him. He was new to the change but kept the promise he made to you all those years ago. As long as you were by his side, he was content with wherever he was. Your home was not a place, but wherever you were with him.

You slept in his arms every night, you danced with him whenever you sang, you loved him every moment. There wasn’t a moment you decided you were done with your travels, you just tied up the songcord one night once you and Ao’nung were done singing the part Neytiri and Ronal made. There weren’t any words, you both felt it in your hearts, Eywa wanted your home to finally find itself back to the reef.

Neytiri ran her hand across your stomach, humming as Tuk played with your hair. Neteyam sat in front of you, carefully placing his hand on your stomach that had grown over the months. You look up to him, smiling as he seemed entranced by the life growing in your stomach.

In the months following the fight with the demon ship you and Neteyam had been practically attached at the hip, his supposed ‘twin telepathy’ kicking into full gear. He’d miraculously show up every time you and Ao’nung were having a moment, wether you were in a Marui of on the mountain, he’d show up ready to pull Ao’nung by the ears and tease you about it for days.

You always seemed to know when his bandages and ointment needed to be changed, or what he was craving. Mother would ask what you all wanted for dinner, you’d answer “____ for Neteyam” just as he aswered the same thing, a grin spreading across both your faces as Lo’ak would look at you both in horror. It honestly started to freak your family out, especially when it would randomly resurface every now and then years later.

Like a few months ago when you woke up feeling nauseous. You blamed it on the sickness you had yet to recover from, but when Neteyam stopped by, he insisted that you visit the Tsahik, ready to drag you by your leg if it he had to. And low and behold, on top of your sickness, you were pregnant.

“Sister” Neteyam’s words snapped you out of your thoughts “are you feeling ok?” He questions, eyebrows furrowing, his hand coming up to feel your forehead, this caught Neytiri’s attention.

“Y/n are you unwell again?” she asks, a frown forming on her face. You shook your head “No no I am fine, I promise” You assured, knowing they would make a fuss if you did not pacify their concerns. They study you for a moment before assuming their previous positions.

You smile, nothing has changed, they are just as smothering when you are perfectly healthy as they are when you’re sick or pregnant.

You lay back into Ao’nung’s embrace as he rubs your stomach while holding a conversation with your brother, Lo’ak, about the hunting duties for the coming weeks. Usually you’d listen in, noting specific things you knew they’d most likely forget, but today you tune them out as you watch your father carve a toy knife.

You giggle as you watch him struggle with the handle of the wood, a frown etching deep into his face. You hadn’t realized how quiet you had been until the room went silent at your ‘sudden outburst’. Jake looks to you, a smile quickly replacing his frown before he spoke. “Any names picked out yet?”

You smile fondly, hand going to your stomach. “I like the name Ayän for a boy” you drawl, looking back to Ao’nung as he rolls his eyes. “You are so sure of yourself” he states, poking at your cheek.

You grin “I haven’t even finished what I was saying, what are you talking about?” you tease, hand coming to your chest to act offended.

“Jakesully your daughter insists that we are having a boy” Ao’nung explains, exasperated “And she refuses to let my mother confirm her suspicions” he wraps his arms around you, hand under your stomach.

You throw a hand in the air, waving at his face. “I do not need the Tsahik to confirm what I already know.” You state, you can feel his sigh as he rolls his eyes again. You place your hand over his and look back to him. “And what do you think our baby is?”

You watch as he bites his lips and looks to Lo’ak, his head falls back with a groan of defeat before he answers. “I think it is a boy...” he says in a murmur, you smile and look to your father with a look of satisfaction. “But that does not mean I agree with your stubborn ego” Ao’nung adds.

Lo’ak laughs, reaching over and fist bumping you. You freeze, feeling your baby kick at your stomach ever so lightly. You look to Jake, reaching out for him. Without hesitation, he leaves his spot to take your hand and be at your side. You take his hand and rest it on your stomach, he smiles but after a moment he snaps his head to your stomach.

Every time you were able to feel the baby kick, Jake was either not around or didn’t feel it in time. Practically everyone had felt the baby, Neteyam and Kiri having felt the most kicks aside from you and Ao’nung. Even Tonowari had felt the kicks many times, always engulfing your entire stomach in his hands and giving you a kiss on your forehead.

You smile at him as he leans in close, placing his ear against your stomach. Lo’ak grins, scrambling forward. “Are they kicking?!” he asked excited. Aside from Jake, Lo’ak had felt the least amount of kicks. He reached forward to feel the baby, but Jake smacks his hand away, “Hey this is my moment” he hisses. Lo’ak frowns, protesting Jake’s gatekeeping.

Jake pushes him back by his forehead and turns back to your stomach. “Hey buddy, it’s me, Grandpa Jake” he whispers. You hold back a laugh at Jake’s words and Lo’ak’s pouts. You grunt as your baby kicks again, Jakes eye widening and looking to you with pure joy.

You purse your lips as the baby kicks especially hard, you grab Ao’nung’s arm. “This is all your fault Yawntu” you hiss “This baby has your persistence!”

“I believe it is your stubbornness our child has inherited” He chuckles, massaging your hand. Jake chuckles, placing a hand on Ao’nung’s shoulder.

“Y/n never caused trouble but she was hard to keep track of, scurrying around and slipping away any chance she got” Jake tells, you roll your eyes. Lo’ak laughs “And she has not changed! Remember when she was angry at Kiri for giving away her favorite spot to sneak off to, so she left, and we finally found her in the storage hammock under out Marui after two days?!” Lo’ak cackles, throwing his head back.

Ao’nung laughs under you, Jake grins, ruffling your hair “My beautiful daughter, giving me a heart attack must be your life purpose” he teases, placing a kiss on your forehead “But I would not change it for anything” he whispers, you roll your eyes but return his gesture, a smile creeping onto your lips.

You were right, you gave birth to a son only minutes after eclipse ended. Kiri, Tsireya, and Ronal all guided the birth, checking your state and watching over your son as he took his first breaths. You lay on the shore, submerged up to your chest in the water. The clan surrounded you, joined as one as you lay on Ao’nung’s chest and Tsireya hands you your baby.

Neytiri and Neteyam, who you had been holding onto, let go of your hands to let you hold your son. You gasped as you looked down at him, tears pricking your eyes, a smile spreading across your face. Only what can be described as pure joy envlopes your heart. You admired your son, memorizing every part of him, how he has turquoise skin and deep blue stripes rippling across his body, his hands twitching as he whines. Wrapping his arms around you, Ao’nung rested his head on your shoulder and traced his sons stripes with his fingers.

“Ayän” you whsiper, Ao’nung kisses your neck before pulling back and addressing the clan. “Ayän!” He bellows, and the clan follows, chanting your sons name. You look back to Ao’nung, love filling your chest.

Tuk adores your son, taking great pride in her nephew, fighting with Neytiri and Lo’ak over who gets to babysit him. The young girl found herself spending most of her time in your Marui, wether your son was there or not, she just wanted to be around you.

Neteyam, Spider, or Kiri would come to fetch her but end up spending dinner with you. You’d gossip and tell stories just like you did when you were children. Ao’nung was not used to having such a busy Marui, your family coming in and out freely, but he saw how much you loved it and never complained.

When you had your daughter Nayakäm, things only got busier, both your families fawning and doting over your daughter. While your son had ‘traded out’ you and your husband’s traits, your daughter had much more of a mix. Her skin was a dark turquoise, or a lighter blue, a mix. Her stripes were sharp like yours, but swirled the farther you went down her body. Ayän had a full paddle tail, Nayakäm had a paddle tail, but it wasn’t as thick as her brothers.

Your son shared your 4 fingers, but your daughter only had an extra finger on her left hand, something only noticed by Spider weeks after her birth. It melted your heart every time you’d come home to see Ao’nung fiddling with your children’s hands, a smile spread across hs face.

“I want our next one to look exactly like you” He once said as you dozed off to sleep. You thought for a moment before your eyes shot open. “Next one??”

Ao'nung holds your hand, placing a flower between your fingers as you stare at him. It was a site you cherished, a site you saw everyday. he places a kiss on your lips, smiling as you giggle. All you can do is smile as he holds you in his arms, you take a deep breath, basking in his presence. You think about the life ahead of you, with him, with your family.

When your children are of age you may travel again, maybe that will wait because you choose to have more children. You hold his hand tight as he hums. It still amazes you how you swooned for this man, the same one who you fist fought in the first month of knowing him, the one you argues with relentlessly, the one who guided you with a trail of flowers through his journey of falling in love with you.

You pray that when you are with Eywa, you will be with him. No phrases of affection could describe the love you hold for him and your family.

But for now you will love and you will see.

Sorry but I couldn't do a taglist this time, I rushed both chapters and i'm just out of energy. My grandpa died so this was the most i could put forth. I hope you guys enjoyed it :)

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lolitakirstein · 4 months

Text

a/n: ooof this turned into a damn text thread i'm sorry.and mostly eren POV, shitty editing this is going to have to be in multiple parts. I'll get part 2 up ASAP. :)

Eren reached for his phone, brows furrowing. It was odd for him to ever hear an alert from it, let alone a text notification. He had made it that way. Cutting off communication to most, keeping conversations to a bare minimum with those who were close...well...more at arm's length...maybe further than that.

If I keep people out, they can't hurt me. they won't know I'm such a fucked up person.

He flipped his phone over, reading the text.

You: hey eren :)

His heartbeat kicked up seeing your name on his phone. You seemed to be the only person who would reach out without being talked to first. Of all the people in his "friends" group, it was you who seemed the less likely to judge...if he ever got that vulnerable with you. Which he doubted he would, you deserved better than someone as fucked up at him. But when you looked at him, he sometimes felt that you saw past his flaws.

His fingers hovered over the screen unsure what to write, finally settling for a simple "Hey."

You: How are you? I haven't seen you in a while.

It was true, you hadn't seen each other in weeks. The last time being a get together for the end of summer.

Eren: I'm fine..just minding my own business as usual."

You: well you can mind your business and still not be a stranger :)

the lighterheardness of your message made him actually smile. The thought that you are wanting him to be closer though...that makes him nervous. He doesn't want you to look at him differently if he got any closer.

Eren: I wouldn't mind that

You: Well lets plan a hang out or something :)

Eren paced his living room. Were you being flirty? or just friendly? or maybe even pitying him? How was he supposed to go about this...play along? he wanted to. Fuck he wanted to get closer to you. But that voice in his head told him it would end in disaster.

"Fuck it," he said aloud to the room

Eren: Maybe we could go for ice cream, yeah?

You: that sounds fun!

Eren waited to respond, not wanting to seem to eager, but he had come this far he might as well go for it...

Eren: would you like to later today?

the minute he sent it, he regretted it. Too soon, too desperate, too overbearing.

You: I can't today. Me jean and connie are going downtown to the bar. I've already backed out twice ugh

His heart dropped at that fucking name

JEAN

He knew you and jean were friends, closer than you and him were, but it still boiled his blood that you were going out with him...even just as friends. He knew how jean got when he was drunk. Hell he knew how jean acted sober especially around you. Hanging around, shameless flirting, playfully tugging your hair as he'd pass behind you.

Eren:Why the fuck are you going with horseface. Hes a creep, he just wants to use you I hate how he touches you Alright, have fun.

He breathed deeply. Calming himself before he could get any angrier at the situation. Yes, he knew it was wrong to get mad at you for going out. But why did it have to be with Jean. He hoped Connie would keep an eye on you and him at least.

*4 hours later*

Eren was lying on his couch, the tv going, but honestly his thoughts were constantly on you being out there at some cheap bar with Jean. No doubt his fucking horse hooves all over you. What were you doing? what was he doing? what were you wearing?

Is she thinking of me?

His resolve to not text you the rest of the night crumbled at last. Reaching for his phone he thumbed to your name and typed

Eren: Hope you are having a fun night.

After what seemed like an eternity but was really only 10 minutes, he saw you begin to reply. His heart kicked up.

you: Heyyyy. I'm a bit buzzed but im havn fun. connie and jean are doing karaoke save me lol

He smirked at your jumbled reply and the thought of jackass jean doing karaoke thinking he's hot shit.

Eren: i'm sure that's a sight. What those dipshits singing...or attempting to sing

you: connies in his missy elliot era rn. Jean just serenaded me with some taylor swift.

Eren clenched his jaw. He knew you were a secret swiftie as much as you tried to act like you werent, he'd catch you humming it. Now it seems Jean is also aware of your little secret.

Playing cool he replies, "Never took that asshole to be a swiftie."

you: me neither, it's definitely the booze

Eren: How much more drinking do you guys plan on doing?

You: I'm tapping out after this one

An attached photo came along with your text. It was dimly lit but he could make out the shape of a dozen or so shot glasses empty on the table and your hand holding your last one up for the camera. And there, blurry but still visible, right in the corner was Jean...his hand on your leg.

DAMN HIM

He feels every emotion rush through him: anger, jealousy, possessiveness, sadness. He heartbeat pounded in his ear.

Eren: What's with Jean being all handsy?

He hoped that sounded subtle and not like a psychopath...with yes he was probably acting like one. Even going so far as to zoom in on the photo to see how far up your leg jeans hands were.

you: Probably to keep from falling over.

You were playing it off like it was no big deal?!

Eren: That doesn't look like the ideal place to put his hand to keep from falling over."

you: Lol. you know how he is when he is drunk...all...lovey

At this point, red is all Eren sees. He doesn't care if he comes off like an asshole or possessive anymore. How could you be so oblivious and naive that Jean was doing this intentionally.

Eren: Doesn't that piss you off that he gets all handsy like that? He shouldn't be allowed to touch you, even if he's drunk.

No going back now. Whatever progress eren had thought he had made with you would certainly be gone after this show of anger. His true self. Fuck it he didn't care. This is why he stayed to himself. In one evening, you had stabbed him in the heart...

Part 2 sneaky peak:

"You know i can't be like him right?" "I don't want you to be like him...I want you to be like you."

thanks for reading :)

#eren jaeger drabble #eren jaeger smut #aot x reader #eren x you #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger imagines #eventual smut #eren angst #jean kirstein #eren #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren jaeger fanfiction

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cinnajun · 2 years

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ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: napping with nct dream

a/n: i am a nap enthusiast so this was fun to write <3 enjoy! (also sorry for being 54 mins late lol)

wc | 1.8k

mark

naps with mark are few and far between—he’s a bit of a workaholic—but that’s okay because you’ll take what you can get. you absolutely nap more frequently than he does, even if you’re not a frequent napper. i see mark taking most of his naps in the morning, maybe around 11am. it’s a sunday, he’s worked nonstop for the past week and a half, and his sleep schedule is a jumbled mess. after you get home from a brunch with friends (because you’re adults, now) he’s practically falling into bed, dragging you with him. he likes to hold your hand during your treasured morning naps instead of a traditional cuddle; he doesn’t want to get all hot and sweaty for a twenty-minute-long escape to dreamland. yet, during those twenty minutes, he holds your hand like it’s his tether to the earthly world, like you’ll disappear any second and he’ll be trapped in his dreams. when mark stumbles upon you napping, though, maybe after getting off work early, he’ll lay down with you, dragging you into his arms. your head will be buried in his chest, and he’ll have an arm comfortably draped around you with his phone in his hands, scrolling through whatever mark lee scrolls through, waiting for you to wake up to him being home.

renjun

i see renjun as a reactionary napper, to be honest. you definitely nap more than him, but if you nap around him, so will he. you’ll be watching a movie together on a weekend, or something, probably around 3 in the afternoon. he won’t feel tired in the slightest until your head falls onto his shoulder and he realizes you’re completely down for the count. he tries to go back to the movie, but you subconsciously wrap your arms around his waist like he’s your teddy bear, and now he’s all warm and comfortable. he fights off his eyes drooping, but he can’t help but begin to fall asleep as he focuses on the rhythm of your breathing, the relaxing atmosphere you’re giving off, and he’s out. naps with renjun are long because they’re never planned, and you always intend to be doing things instead of sleeping. you wake up with neck pain because two people sleeping on a couch is never comfortable, but you’ll also wake up laying on renjun’s chest, feeling his warmth all around you. naps with renjun are the kinds where you wake up feeling a bit sick, but that never stops either of you from sharing what weird, outlandish dreams you might’ve had. when you both stand up from the couch, your knees nearly give out and your back is screaming in pain, but you appreciate the naps you get to have with renjun :)

jeno

i’m gonna say it—while jeno isn’t the expert napper of the group, any sort of nap with him might be the most comforting. whether you’re on a couch, in bed, healthy or sick, jeno is just really great to lay around with. if i had to guess, naps are common between you both, but they only happen after dinner. jeno is a gamer, so he’s always up pretty late, but sometimes he gets tired before he’s ready to sleep. his solution? a thirty-minute nap at 10pm. you’re never opposed, though, because he's really great to nap with. he lays down next to you and stares at you until you look away from your phone, or tablet, or whatever. you get the memo pretty easily, turning over to put your phone on your nightstand, and that’s when he attacks. jeno drags you into his chest, keeping a firm grip around your waist and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. he sets an alarm, so you never get to actually go to sleep as a result of your naps. instead, just as you’re about to enter your sleep cycle, you’re jolted awake by the awful sound of a default apple alarm. you grumble something about how you were about to fall asleep, but jeno only chuckles, giving your middle a light squeeze. “i’m sorry, you can go back to sleep now,” he’ll say, detaching himself from you and returning to his computer. mentally, you promise yourself that you’ll make him go to sleep next time, but, for now, you’re too tired to fight back.

haechan

lee haechan hates napping, i’m sure of it. he’s a bit of a workaholic, so he has things he wants to get done, even if he’s so tired he can barely keep his head straight. so, if lee haechan is taking a nap, it means one thing: he’s sick. one day, you’ll notice how his cheeks are a bit red, how he’s moving a little slower than usual, and you’ll practically attack him with the thermometer. once your suspicions are confirmed, you’re dragging him to his bedroom, ignoring his claims of “i’m fine” and “it’s just a cold.” once you get him all nicely tucked in, and you’ve supplied a nice, cool compress for his head and some medicine for his symptoms, you’re sure to sit next to him. you both look like two old people when this happens, sitting against the headboard and bickering about whatever he can bicker with you over, but it’s always successful. usually, you have to trick him into sleeping, and that’s usually accomplished by forcing him to watch a boring hallmark movie with you. similar to renjun (although the opposite, this time), his head will fall on your shoulder, and you’ll trap him in a comforting hug. moments later, you’re asleep too, and then you’re waking up in a dark room, disoriented because you went to sleep at 4 and woke up at 9. you’re holding onto him tightly, and he’s sound asleep, with his head comfortably nestled just below your neck. and, while you’d love to skip dinner, he needs to eat something so he can make a quick recovery. so, you quietly slip out of bed, disappearing into the kitchen while he finally begins to wake up.

jaemin

in case you were wondering, jaemin is absolutely the champion napper out of the group. he naps so often that he knows the best times to nap to not disturb nightly sleeping, and how long he should be napping for. it’s no surprise that, about 99% of the time, jaemin will make you nap with him, claiming that you’ll be more refreshed too. so, every day at 1:30 pm, expect to be dead to the world for an entire 90 minutes. you’ll both get dressed into comfortable clothing (he will force you to wear more comfortable clothing so the nap is more comfortable for him, or so he claims), and you’ll climb under the covers with the ac blasting and the fan at its highest speed, ready for your daily dream-escapade. jaemin likes to trap you in a koala hug while he naps, wrapping both his arms and legs around you and trapping you against him. he also prefers to be facing you for reasons he won’t tell you outright (although, you already know). jaemin has been doing these daily naps for a lot longer than you have, so his body is perfectly attuned to the sleep-and-wake-up timer he’s mentally set. so, more often than not, you’ll awaken to jaemin pressing light kisses all over your face, which you’ve essentially equated to being your alarm. “good morning,” he’ll say in a sing-song voice, tinged with a bit of hoarseness. “i’ve missed you.”

chenle

hot take, i think chenle is nct dream’s #2 when it comes to napping. does he have it as planned out as jaemin? absolutely not, no, but he still takes a lot of them. you probably noticed this very early into your relationship, as, when you’d come over to hang out or to do something, he’d tell you he’d rather nap than do anything else, and then pester you until you agreed. similar to mark, i don’t think he’d necessarily cuddle you or even hold your hand while napping, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you around. chenle finds comfort in your mere presence, and would rather just skip a nap than not have you around for it. he’s a light sleeper, and he’ll probably wake up if you try to sneak away, so do not try to leave when you’re napping with chenle. he’ll feel very loved if you do something as simple as falling asleep next to him, so allow yourself to doze off parallel to him, with daegal curled up in the space between you. chenle will wake up after you as well, and he prefers that you wake him up yourself. find a creative way to do it, and he’ll wake up with the prettiest smile on his face, excited to see you first thing. if he stumbles upon you napping, chenle will gladly join you, and sure enough, you’ll nearly have a heart attack when you wake up to him mere inches away from you. (p.s.: if you want chenle to cuddle you while you nap, tell him you’re having a bad day, and he’ll snuggle right up).

jisung

you and jisung have never taken a planned nap, ever. and, when you do nap, it’s always in the most awkward places. on a road trip with the rest of the dreamies, the both of you had been banished to the way-back, and you slept on each other for nearly the entire ride (much to chenle’s dismay, as he was also in the way-back). when you woke up, your neck was screaming in pain, and your head hurt from how long you’d kept it on his shoulder. you went to see a movie, one of those pretentious, fancy-award-winning movies, and you both fell asleep about twenty minutes in and woke up to the cinema attendant informing you that the movie was well past finished. you and your friends went to an amusement park, but the both of you started getting tired, so you went and found a shady bench to sit on and then slept on each other for an hour while your friends panicked trying to find you. you were his date to a family member’s wedding, but you ended up missing the whole ceremony because you fell asleep in one of the dressing rooms and the bride/groom thought you were too cute to wake up. naps with jisung always result in you waking up disoriented and confused, sometimes with an awful sunburn or a strong pain in your shoulder, but you always think it’s fun; who knows where you two will end up?

thank you for reading!

#cinna.nct #nct dream x reader #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream headcanons #nct dream #mark x reader #renjun x reader #jeno x reader #haechan x reader #jaemin x reader #chenle x reader #jisung x reader #nct x reader #nct headcanons #nct fluff

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raineandsky · 4 months

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this is the secret santa gift for @laffy-taffy-creations!

their prompt: "Hero that is a living weapon and past experiment, they run into Supervillain who taunts them calling them by their experiment name and Hero fighting to stay in control of their emotions so they don't accidentally cause any sort of diaster. Bonus points if there's someone (you pick) hiding in the shadows, eavesdropping, that part is optional though."

this was super fun, hope you enjoy reading as much as i did writing!!

The hero’s hands had shook when the superhero announced their next assignment. When he’d placed a slim file in their hands, like they didn’t know the exact ins and outs of the place he was sending them to. There was a map on the front page that they didn't need.

The hero’s hands had shook as they meticulously unscrewed the little vent to shuffle their way inside. They’d been violated by the familiar stench of burning skin and cleaning chemicals, the sound of clanking metal and far-off, shrieking voices grating in their ears. Primal instinct had momentarily elbowed in front of duty, and they’d been halfway to abandoning the mission before remembering why they were here.

Let’s eradicate them. A small handwritten note left in the back of the hero’s file, as much of a kindness as an explicit push towards the superhero’s true goal. I think it’s what you deserve as much as they do.

The hero’s hands are shaking now, buried in the supervillain’s desk, as the office door clunks unlocked.

No one else but the supervillain could come in here really—the hero knows this—but their heart still sinks to see that it isn’t anyone else.

The supervillain pauses on the threshold, clearly reining in any blatant surprise before he speaks. He was always good at that—the only emotions he ever let them see was the disappointment of what they’d done wrong, or nothing at all.

“Q-5,” he says after a long moment, and the hero’s hands scrunch on paper at the name. “It is a delight to see you return to us.”

“That’s not my name,” the hero spits. Their voice trembles traitorously. “It’s [Hero] now.”

“Don’t be absurd.” The supervillain hums a laugh as he carefully closes the door behind him, like this is nothing more than a business meeting. “You are Q-5. No one gets to name you but me. You know this well, I’m sure.��

The hero does know this well. Any attempt of individuality here was met with an iron fist, quite literally. The relief of getting a name—a real, actual name—had been one of the biggest victories in their escape from this hell.

Hearing that so-called name again, that jumble of characters that mean nothing, that make them nothing, it’s– it’s—

The hero sucks down a long breath as the ceiling sprinkles dust over the room. Something deep in the building groans as if the hero’s tidal wave of emotion is boring it.

The supervillain’s gaze tilts to the shuddering pipes along the walls. Unbothered, vaguely amused.

“Q-5.” The supervillain’s voice is deceptively soft. It’s the tone of someone the hero’s about to want to be very far away from. They feel like a child again, an experiment slightly off canter, caught with their hand in the biscuit tin reserved for the scientists. “I see the power I gave you is strengthening.”

The supervillain takes a step closer and the hero takes one back without thinking. Their wrists bash painfully against the drawer in their haste.

Power. That’s all it is with the supervillain. Power, strength, violence. How can we make you better when you were such a mistake? How can I make you into who I intended? You came out wrong, but I can’t let another failure go to waste. How do I give you true power? Power. Power power power power power power—

A crack snaps its way into the floor underneath the supervillain. The hero heaves another unwilling breath. Control is difficult when their destruction is ruled by the lawless waves of emotion.

“I came here,” the hero says slowly, “to stop you.”

They grit their teeth, as if that will quell the quaking tightness in their chest. It doesn’t, not really, but at least the building stops shaking. The supervillain admires the gash underfoot like it’s a piece of art and not a consequence of what he created.

“I would love to see you try.” The supervillain smiles, the expression calculated. “Take whatever you’ve found. I’m sure it’ll be useful for your little mission.”

The hero falters, their gaze drawn to their hands. They didn’t realise that they’d held onto some of the papers in their rush to put space between them. The supervillain steps to the side to give the hero a straight escape to the door.

He’s letting them leave. It’s a trick. It’s a test. Will you try to get away from something that will never leave you no matter how far you run? Or will you accept that you belong here, as nothing more than a half-failed experiment and a muddle of uncontrollable feelings?

The hero takes a step towards the door. The supervillain doesn’t move. They take another. Another. Another.

The supervillain practically smirks when the hero gets to the door, like this is exactly what he planned. “Don’t think your departure now means you’re escaping, Q-5,” he says lightly. “I know you’ll be back. You cannot truly run from this place. From me.”

The building rumbles underfoot. Shouts rise distantly. The hero forces themself to stare him in the face as they forcibly stamp their flare of hatred down. Then they swing the door open to make their escape.

Someone stumbles into the office as the door she was leaning against abandons her. She quickly rights herself with an awkward clearing of her throat.

“I was trying to find the source of the disturbances,” she explains hurriedly. “It seemed the worst of the earthquake was coming from here.”

The hero recognises her. A villain. Bright, eager, forever in the supervillain’s shadow. She probably thinks she’s safely detached from the supervillain’s insane experiments. The hero thought that too, once. It was only when he ran out of test subjects that he turned his interest to them.

The hero pushes past her before they can see any more of their lost self in her. The building rumbles in agreement as they mindlessly break for the exit.

“This will be vitally useful, [Hero],” the superhero says with a smile when they lay the crumpled papers on his desk, “you’ve brought us a step closer to ending [Supervillain]’s reign. Thank you.”

The hero is just glad it’s over.

But when the superhero approaches a week later, a file in his hand and a grim look on his face, the hero finds the floors shaking with revulsion under their feet.

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #secret santa #laffy-taffy-creations #hope this is to your standard!! loved your ideaaaaaa #and merry crimmas to yall if you celebrate #i havent done a big secret santa event before this was super exciting #and you will see me doing it next year

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reverieblondie · 1 month

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Play Fighting

Pairing: Kaine Parker x gnSpider-person!Reader

Warnings: Reader gets nose broken but other than that its just some nice Kaine fluff!

Summary: Kaine is always starting fights with you...your about to figure out why...

A/N: So, waaay back in December I had someone ask if I would be writing more stuff for Kaine and the answer is yes. I love Kaine, and if you love Kaine or what to know more about him please check out the amazing artwork by @eughi They are seriously incredible and the soul reason of me finding my love for this man. They also drew my new profile picture and where so amazing to work with!

The pictures they made that inspired me~ Here and Here

Word count: 3,390

Okay…maybe Kaine is right…these meetings are pretty, well to put it in nicer words compared to his…boring.

Miguel is lecturing everyone while on one of his many platforms placed around HQ, must be a spider thing to want to be perched up so high all the time.

While Miguel talks, you notice how his words are starting to sound like a jumbled mess of mumbles. Trying your best to hang on to his words, but at the moment you don't even understand what he’s talking about anymore. Now your eyes grow heavy and your head bobs slowly; sleep is here to take its newest victim, you. And right now you think you might as well let it win, what's the worst that can happen? Just shut your eyes for a moment…a quick…small second…

Right as you're resting your eyes and feeling yourself drift, everything is calm, and your breathing becomes more relaxed. It's peaceful…

Until, a sudden push to your body almost makes you tumble over, forcing you to wake and catch yourself. Stumbling to the side your eyes are looking for where the nudge came from, then narrow at the source. Kaine Parker, of course, it was from Kaine your…friend? You guess that's what you should categorize him as considering nothing else seems to be fitting.

Though you have to use the friend term loosely considering you two are always at each other's throats but you will still hang out on occasion. He’s your permanent pain in the ass, and you think he prefers it that way.

Peter B had introduced the two of you when you were new to HQ, and the first impression he made was not exactly a pleasant one. When you had put your hand out to shake his hand, he huffed and pushed past you. After that, you thought you wouldn’t see him anymore but the two of you always seemed to keep running into each other, sometimes literally. For some reason you two just couldn’t seem to get away from each other, not that it made him any friendlier.

Then when you two had to work together on a mission, you thought he hated you considering how he acted. Pushing you out of the way so he could fight, yelling curse words at you, giving you an attitude, and then the cherry on top after the mission was over he would ignore you. Finally, you had enough after a couple of missions and run-ins and you let him have a piece of your mind.

You still remember how you laid into him, yelling at him about his foul disposition. Telling him how people should be nice when working on missions together, and finally saying you're not going to let him push you around, you can and will push right back. You're not scared of him like everyone else was.

Once done, you expected him to fly off the handle at you or curse you or something, however, this was not what you were met with. What you were met with was a scowling Kaine, deep brown eyes tracing over you, taking you in, then with a tilt to his head he gave you the thing that made your eyes widen and heart race. The intimidating harshness of his eyes softened to a lidded stare as his lips curled into a sideways smirk, a smug mhmpf seemed to leave his chest before he turned away from you without a word. Since that day, Kaine and you have had an odd friendship.

The two of you started going on more missions together, sparring together, and eating lunch together on occasion. Maybe he had taken your anger to heart and wanted to make up for it. Though, as the two of you slowly started to get to know each other better, there was something that you learned about Kaine, he loved to pick fights with you…

Kaine didn’t do it all the time but you did start to notice that he started to pick fights with you more and more. Pushing your buttons in only the way he could, then have you push his buttons right back. It drove you insane always having to endure these playfights, sometimes he would win sometimes you would win. In the end, you two always seemed to get back in good graces with each other. Though the play fights have been getting a bit more heated lately…and with this growing frustration in your chest when you're around him you're finding that your anger towards him is feeling different lately…

Like right now as you're finding your feet again you're feeling mad for being awoken so rudely but when you see his tall figure auburn hair cascading down loosely you feel something else and it's making your chest ache making you even more irritated, especially sense what happened last time.

Kaine keeps his eyes forward and his strong arms folded, acting like he didn’t just nudge you awake. You stare daggers into him before rolling your eyes and going back to his side, eyes narrowed in irritation as you occasionally glance up at him taking in his sharp jawline and flawless hair. Seriously, what is he using in it?

As your irritation builds so does your confusion, why the hell is he deciding to bother you now? Not able to come up with an answer to this question you decided to just get him back quickly, no way you're going to let him win this. When he pushes you back, he knows this so why test you? Folding your arms you stiffen your body and ram yourself discreetly into his side forcing him to step sideways. Kaine turns his head towards you furrowing his brow as you give him a look of ‘yeah, I did that, fight me.’ -You should have known he would take the invitation.

Kaine turns so he's now staring you down, you're trying to just ignore his imposing figure, but your concentration is broken when he punches your shoulder; albeit pretty gently compared to when you two spare. The action seems to start drawing attention to the people around you two, but you don’t notice…no…this means war..,.

Turning to face him you clench your fist and punch him back in the shoulder with a bit more force than he did you but not enough for him to go flying, just enough to make him step back. Kaine looks at you dumbfounded for a second before he approaches you at a brisk pace, narrowing your eyes, you lift your arms and brace yourself. Perhaps You should have just let it go? Retaliation of violence is not always the best answer but you're just not going to take his shit, he knows that, and that's why he starts it..just like a perfect pain in the ass.

A few moments later, cut to you and Kaine wrestling in the middle of the meeting hall with hundreds of eyes looking at you two in shock. The meeting has come to a halt. Some have tried to separate you two but when they tried they were met with threats from you and Kaine. You're both throwing punches, kicking, arguing, and pinning each other down in harsh grunts; till finally Peter B and Ben are pulling you two off each other before Miguel can make his way over.

As you're being pulled away in haste by Ben away from the scene of the crime you turn and your eyes lock with Kaines as he is being walked in the opposite direction by Peter. Kaine's eyes meet your fuming ones then he gives you that smirk that has your heartbeat racing and fist tightening once more.

“Uhg! Why does he always have to start stuff with me?”, you yell out to Ben as you deliver a barrage of punches to his forearms.

“Maybe he was just playing around with you? Better than him trying to fight to hurt you…trust me…”

You dodge the returning punches from Ben but are not quick enough to avoid the sudden leg sweep he delivers making you fall to the ground. Landing on your back with a slam, you just lay there limply for a minute still feeling sour. Sparring with Ben should be releasing some of your frustrations, but it seems to fail because your mind is still going back to you and Kaine's little stunt during the meeting that ended up with a grade-A ass chewing from Miguel. Now both of you are stuck on night duty for the next couple of weeks. Thanks a lot, Kaine…

Ben holds his hand out to you, “Night duty isn’t so bad, I use the time to think about my past and practice some new moves like that one.”

Grabbing his hand you stand back up and dust yourself off, “Well I am happy it works for you but I’m still irritated Kaine got me in trouble….and now I’m stuck with the worst duty…I had afternoons! I loved my afternoon shifts! Now I will have to deal with him tonight…one of us won’t make it out alive…”

Ben laughs before nudging his head towards you, “You sure you want to fight with him again?”

You look at him confused before turning around and seeing Kaine thrusting Peter B into the mat…from the noise Peter croaks out you bet it was painful, good thing man knows how to take a hit.

You and Kaine haven’t spoken, you were irritated and didn’t feel like trying to make niceties with Kaine again, you wanted him to get the message that his getting your shift changed wasn’t sitting right with you. though he would probably just tell you to get over it already.

You continue to watch the mountain of a man moving quickly to avoid punches and delivering relentless punches back. Watching him was making you miss sparring with him a bit, he would always change it up on you to keep you on your toes and he would never pull a punch, it made you tougher and you appreciated it about him. Plus, there is the fact that the man did look pretty great dripping with sweat…though those found images need to be pushed down for the moment.

Ben clears his throat, breaking you from your trance with an almost knowing grin, rolling your eyes, you get back into your stance. As you and Ben start up training again you find yourself getting distracted still. Your eyes keep wandering to the other matt a bit away where you watch Kaine fight. He’s tied his hair back at this point and is huffing as he continues to exert himself. Then for a moment you see him turn his head towards you, brown eyes locking onto yours, you feel your face heat up for a second before you move your attention back to your current opponent.

Dodging Ben’s attacks your try to will yourself into not getting flustered by Kaine, you are mad at him…yes, you strangely miss him but he’s pissed you off and you're not talking to him till he makes up for what he did…or until you rant at him again, it’s just a matter of seeing what comes first…though you had a feeling what it would be.

Continuing to half pay attention to your sparring partner you look back over at Kaine again, and that's when you feel your eyes widen and a bolt of electricity jolt through you. Kaines shirt was over his head, taking off his drenched shirt and throwing it down to the ground. His whole body was nothing but muscle and decorated with mouth-watering scars, he practically shined as the sweat rolled down his skin to his happy trail…your mouth went dry at the sight.

The thought of the last sparring match with Kaine pops into your head as you keep glancing at him. It was a week before the meeting. Kaine had swept your legs forcing you to the ground in a hard crash. As the air had been knocked out of you Kaine was quick to get on top of you and pin your arms above your head.

The feeling of his weight on you was…nice…then his intense brown eyes stared down at you as he huffed for air. Not many could tire him out during training but you had been working with him so long that you figured out how to challenge him in a fight. Judging from how the sweat glistened on his face and his brows furrowed down at you, you knew you had given him a workout. Then he did the thing you were not expecting, he started to lean down closer to your face.

His heavy breaths fanning over your face made a rush of excitement go through you, you still remember how it smelt like cinnamon and was hot on your skin like a summer's breeze, If only he went lower on your neck, it would have made your body shake. Kaine's eyes were soft and lidded, and his lips were just a hair away, for a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, and you foolishly closed your eyes in anticipation.

Then his weight was off you and you saw him walking away…leaving you to feel like an idiot….

Back to the present, you feel your chest prang for a moment with the embarrassment you felt.

Then SMACK!

That pain in your chest was quickly changed to one on your face as Ben landed a hit right to your nose knocking you down. Dammit, even when he’s not here he's messing you with, causing you to get distracted now you're on the mat flat on your ass with a bloody nose. Thanks a lot, Kaine!

Groaning you sit up holding your bloody nose tilting your head up but Ben quickly tilts it back down.

“Just let it flow out. I am so sorry I hit you so hard, I didn’t expect to land the hit.”

“It’s fine, I was distracted and it was a good hit.”

You start to stand up but you feel yourself give out and you stumble back on your ass. Ben is quick to wrap his strong arms around your waist to help you up and walk to get ice for your nose and patch you up. As you two head towards the lounge your spidey senses go crazy then you suddenly feel two large hands on your shoulders turning you around.

Staring down at you, Kaine's deep brown eyes take in your messed-up face. Quickly Kaine's eyes flick to Ben and he looks like he could kill him. Without a word, Kaine grabs your hand and pushes past Ben with you in tow.

You turn your head around and see Peter B. go up to Ben with a smirk before he says something to make Ben burst out in laughter. You try to catch what he might have said but you can’t seem to hear anything past your heartbeat in your ears. Feeling his hand tightening on yours you bring your eyes to his broad back as he leads you to the nearest lounge room.

Reaching the room Kaine swiftly lifts you onto the counter, and you watch as he quickly finds a rag wets it, and comes back to you still in all his shirtless glory. Wincing in anticipation you think he’s going to wipe the blood up harshly, but to your surprise the feeling of the damp rag to your skin is gentle…

Kaine’s eyes are back to those soft ones you saw above you, you quickly move your eyes. Damn Kaine, why does he make you feel this way? One minute he's a rude jerk, the next he's soft and gentle. It's making you confused…just what is he thinking, how does he feel…why does he have to be so confusing all the time? He's been tying your stomach in knots since you first met him!

You feel like you have a fever as you try to keep your eyes off his exposed chest, but his proximity and his gentle touches are making it hard at the moment. Snapping you back to the present you feel fingers carefully cup your cheeks, causing you to bring your eyes back to his handsome face. The touch is so soft, he looks so soft…

“Deep breath…” he says in a whisper…

You can’t help how it almost sounds seductive causing you to lean in closer to him…

-Crack!-

“What the hell! That hurt!” you scream. Kaine just huffs as he removes his hands from where he just reset your nose.

“Serves you right, you let Ben land a punch on you. You're better than that.”

You open your mouth to say something back, but you just shut it again, you're still angry with him, and his shirtlessness. You know if you start arguing it’s only going to get a rouse out of him and you're not wanting to give him the satisfaction of pissing you off further. Raking your eyes over him one last time you move your head away folding your arms the universal sigh of ‘I’m still mad at you’

Kaine tries to meet your eyes but you are being amended not to look at him, despite deep down wanting to. Finally getting annoyed with you he grabs your chin to look at you dead on.

“Don’t tell me you're still mad.”

You stare daggers at him and he rolls his eyes, “What? It's not my fault you got your nose broken, you should have been paying attention. You should have asked me to spar with you, this wouldn't have happened.”

And with that, your blood starts to boil causing the final snap.

“My nose…my nose!” you swat his hand away from your chin but it only causes him to catch your wrist. You can’t care about that right now all you can think about is ranting.

“I’m not mad about my nose! Well I mean it hurts…but that's besides the point! Of course, I wouldn’t ask you to spar with me you ass! You're always starting things with me, making me crazy! What is with that? You start fights all the time, and don’t get me started on when we were sparring last time!

Kaine's eyes widen with the mention of it and you feel your chest pring with the realization that from the way he's looking at you…he's been thinking back on that as much as you have. You quickly try to stumble over it, continuing your rant.

“I-I uh…and you got me stuck on night duty now! Stuck with you! I mean when you're not driving me crazy you're fine! But lately, you just start fights over nothing! Who knows what you're going to start when we are-”

Then all your words are silenced, Kaine's lips, press to yours in a fierce hunger stealing all your words from you as he guides your lips against his. His large hands grab your hips and squeeze tightly making you groan into his mouth. Your hands instinctively go to his chest, his skin is hot and you swear you can feel his heart racing underneath your fingertips. You wonder if he can feel how your heart is racing at this moment…

Almost as quickly as it started, it ended with him breaking away from you to look down at your confused face. He’s got that smirk, the same one he always wears when you're mad at him. The one that makes your heart race and all your thoughts evaporate into a haze.

“Wha-why-huh?” You stammer out.

Kaine brings his hand to rub your cheek, “I couldn’t help it, you look good when you're all pissed off.”

Your eyes widen at the confession and everything starts to make sense, the fighting…the confusing gestures. Right as you're getting it he pinches your cheek and then starts to walk off leaving you stunned. Then your senses come back to you.

“Wait! You can’t just kiss me like that then leave!” You yell at him as you get off the counter fighting your now jelly-like legs to catch up to him.

Of course, he starts something again and doesn't finish it. You will see him tonight however…maybe you can give him another piece of your mind….and get some more kisses...

#across the spiderverse #astv x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv #spiderman fanfiction #kaine parker #kaine parker spiderman #kaine parker x reader #fluff and humor #spiderman atsv #spiderman fluff #friends to lovers #enimies to friends to lovers #spiderman x reader #scarlet spider

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year

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just read your fic that wxplains how lilia is going to sneak into family day lol. so this interactions takes after that. “Hi Silver! Happy Family Day! Did your mom or dad happen to drop by? I’d love to meet them.” To myself: and now I will finally find out what your last name is heh heh heh!! 😈

[Referencing this fic!]

[Someone actually also made fan art of how everyone else will perceive Lilia in the enchanted gag glasses; you can see that here!]

*Casually redacts Lilia’s Silver’s dad’s eyes* Warning everyone now, you’re going to see redacted Lilia in a lot of the upcoming writing pieces since lots of the requests I got are Lilia-related yes, they involve Mama Spade too 🦇

Fun fact, Super Mario’s full name is “Mario Mario” as of 2015 😂

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

“Hello. It’s good to see you in high spirits for Family Day.” Silver greeted you with a small smile. “If you’re interested in meeting my father, he’s socializing with some of the other parents."

Silver turned his head, and you followed his line of sight to a small group of adults. You couldn’t immediately tell who was the right man—there was no cap of telling silver hair to tip you off. That’s right, Silver said he was adopted. They wouldn’t look alike.

“Which one is your…” You looked back at the second year—and startled.

A man had suddenly appeared beside Silver.

He took one look at the surprise in your expression and gave an impish grin. "You called for me, and so I have appeared."

His voice, you noticed, was as deep as the darkest night, or an abyss without an end. But it was far from empty—there were unsaid secrets and wisdom threaded in the way he spoke, a sacred and sagely quality to his words.

“You’re…”

"Father." Silver lowered his head in a polite bow. "This is my friend."

"Is that so? Hello, hello! Such a pleasure to meet one of Silver's bosom buddies. Thank you so much for looking after my boy.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all! Silver’s a great guy, he’s very easy to get along with.”

You took a step back and slowly scanned the smooth-talking stranger up and down.

He was a shocking short fellow, with black hair swept into a high ponytail that cascaded past his back. From his deep voice, you’d had anticipated someone more intimidating—hadn’t Silver mentioned his father being a general?—but he moved and spoke with all the care of a gust of wind, liberated from the stuffy suit he wore. The jacket casually laid on his shoulders, too, seemed to come to life and dance with him, relishing the beautiful day.

And his face was…

You rubbed your eyes and looked again, squinting this time.

Something was odd about his face.

You had always known Silver for his strangely iridescent eyes. They shifted color in different lighting, sometimes more pink or blue or purple depending on the time of day. But his father’s features were all jumbled.

Whenever you thought you had something pinned down—the hawkishness of his nose, the shape of his mouth, the color of his eyes—they seemed to change every so slightly. Suddenly the nose was rounder, or his cupid’s bow had sharpened, or his irises had gone from gold to violet to green. Everything seemed blurred, as though you were gazing at him through a heavy veil of fog.

What’s going on here…? Am I not fully awake?

Silver’s dad chuckled lightly. “My, is something the matter? You’re staring at me so intensely.”

"Er, have we met before... sir?" you asked, hesitant. For a moment, you thought you caught Silver's face paling and tensing. "You seem familiar somehow, but I can't put my finger on why."

"No I’m afraid this is our first encounter," Silver's dad said, his every word coated with mirth, "but perhaps some of my charm has rubbed off on my son here. As they say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree!"

He dug an elbow into Silver’s side. The knight sighed—but from the twinkle in his crooked half-smile, you could tell it was done in fondness.

“Never mind, must just be me then.” You automatically stuck out your hand. “Anyway, it’s nice to meet you, Mister…?”

This is it!! Hope swelled in your chest. The moment of truth…! I’ll finally know what Silver’s last name is!!

The ponytailed man happily clapped a hand into yours, giving a firm shake. When he smiled, his teeth came into view—the shapes of them inconsistent, just like the rest of his face.

"You can call me Mr. Silver,” he crooned.

“Oh, sure thing—” Your hand went limp as realization suddenly sunk in. "Wait… so that means your son’s full name is…”

Silver Silver?!

“That’s… right,” Silver said carefully. He cast his father a weary look. “Yes. I was named for my hair color, which happens to be the same as my surname.”

“Gosh, no wonder why you never use your last name then!” you cried. “It’s a weird conversation starter to introduce yourself with the same thing twice!”

“Admittedly, I’ve never been too good with naming!” Mr. Silver confessed. He let your hand drop, and straightened his lapels. “But I’m a firm believer that it’s the content of one’s character which determines their worth, rather than the titles they hold.

“Kufufu. I do hope that you and Silver can continue your studies together and become adults of wonderful character someday.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #Lilia Vanrouge #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #Silver #disney twisted wonderland #Reader #self insert #NRC Family Day #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios

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iamthecomet · 3 months

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Hiiiii comet I'm back to lay across your inbox like an attention starved cat but also cause problems

I think Dew is the type to hesitate, and of course yes he hesitates about a bunch of things but I think he's reluctant to use what he's given.

The candle that Zephyr got him during their first tour together, the one that smells like fresh cotton and winter? Never been lit, at least he takes the cover off it to smell it occasionally when he starts to miss them too much.

The cologne Aether got him for one of many anniversaries? He'd sprayed it exactly one time, in front of Aether after unwrapping it. It's much to nice for him to wear, expensive and rich, there's never the occasion. He never felt worthy of wearing it or Aether's love so flippantly.

The hand bound leather journal Mist gifted him after being summoned? He tried to write in it once, to get his thoughts and feelings and jumbled up frustrations out but his heart seized up when the ink bled from the point his pen rested too long. Everything he wanted to write felt foolish and unimportant.

I'm sure he still has every guitar pick Ifrit slipped down the back of his shirt during practice, and he'd never dream of taking them to the steel again. Unwilling to scratch them, scrape any of Ifrit away. It kills him every time he touches that fucking guitar, like he's stripping it of association each time he plays.

And that's just to name a few...Dew's got shelves of gifts and trinkets and what have you but they sit to collect dust and carry the weight of his guilt. He's aware of how quickly things run out, can be taken away. He never wants to let them go because the day the bottle runs empty or he reaches the last page that's it. That's just it. It's over and the memory is gone. He can't stomach losing what little there is to cling to anymore.

I just think Dew dreads the end of things, whatever things those might be.

This got sadder than I intended....My baaaaaad

- Void

Giving you HEAD PATS AND SCRATCHES. First of all, Dew is just like me for REAL. Second, you're so right. I'm just imagining the bookshelves in his room, filled with books he's read but can't get rid of. Books he hasn't read because it isn't the right time yet. And trinkets. Gifts. On full display, but never used. Sure he touches them, picks them up and turns them in his hands. He opens that cologne and smells the nozzle but never sprays it. And if Aether notices that Dew never uses it (he does) he doesn't say anything. Though, Dew hasn't really thought much past his own hesitation--not to the other side of this. Where people who have given him things see them sit on shelves, never to be touched. Where Aether wonders if Dew doesn't like that scent, and Rain wonders if Dew doesn't like those candies he picked out special for him when they were on tour in Japan. There are foods never eaten, and teas never drank, and puzzles never opened, and books never read because Dew aches with the idea of ruining it. Of an ending. But Dew doesn't think about his own ending. About the eventual, inevitable, end of his time topside, however that will happen. He doesn't think about this room, empty of him and still filled with a life time of gifts, memories, and love that he never took full advantage of--because he was too afraid of losing it.

#comet comments #void #I took your angst and made it worse #you're welcome #dewdrop ghoul #literally though I am intimately familiar with this behavior and man is it a BITCH to break

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nhasablogg · 7 months

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Icarian (allow the ground to find its brutal way to me)

Fandom: Stranger Things

Summary: Steve is running through the forest. He can feel his hunter closing in.

A/N: Thiiiiiis is some sort of attempt at writing something... Halloweeny? Spooky? Suspenseful? Idk. I was thinking I would try to write some Halloween esque fics throughout the month, but we'll see if I'll write more than this heh. Hope you like it!

Words: 1.3k

Steve was doing his best to not trip over tree roots that had infested the ground of the forest. Seriously, he couldn’t remember it ever being this bad. Only when he was running, which he currently was, when the roots were death traps more than nuisances. Of course that was when they decided to appear. Just his luck.

Heart in his throat, Steve jumped over a fallen tree branch, wondering if the forest was out to get him as much as his hunter was. It was strange that it was just during moments of complete panic that his mind managed to produce coherent thoughts in between all his absolutely jumbled ones. It was nearly funny, hearing the logical ones amidst the screaming and cursing, because that was all that he managed to really think as he ran through the semi-darkness. That and the occasional hunch that told him in what direction to run in, as if that would help. As if he wouldn’t get completely obliterated before managing to get out of this godforsaken forest.

Yet all the time spent among these trees, dates and mischief and the occasional need to just get away, led his feet in what he knew was the most suitable direction. Even though his mind and body were freaking out entirely, one part of him was doing its utmost to get him through this with as few scratches as possible. He could hear his hunter closing in and took a left, going deeper into the forest toward thicker trees, hoping to lose him enough that the noise and movement of the bushes wouldn’t matter. That his panicked gasps for air wouldn’t be audible.

He wasn’t sure how the hell he’d ended up here anyway. A day as any other, foggy and muggy, not at all the fall weather they were used to. Maybe the fog was what had resulted in this chase, was what had given Steve time to flee in the first place and get this far without being caught. But the fog was also making him uncertain, feeling as if he would trip over stones at any turn. Slowing him down, or so he assumed. His form wasn’t what it had been in high school, but he’d run away from enough monsters to know what adrenaline could do.

The mugginess was making his shirt cling to his chest, a piece of hair stuck to his forehead. “It’ll be fine,” Dusting had said, shoving a tree branch out of the way and letting it go before Steve had been able to get past it.

“You’re an asshole,” he’d replied, just narrowing missed having his fucking face whipped. “This will end badly, I’m telling you.”

“Since when were you a pu-”

“Shit, fuck!” The memory was interrupted by his ankle slamming into something and he fell headfirst toward the ground, finding himself lucky to land on something soft. He could imagine how easily he would come out of this with a stick through his eyeball, blood everywhere, excruciating pain turning him into nothing but wailing. But all he got was a scrape over his wrist where he tried and failed to catch himself against mossy bark. He lay there, for a moment, allowing himself to whimper through his heavy breathing once before falling silent. Listening. Knowing damn well no one could’ve missed that fall. Or?

The forest was quiet, sans the occasional rattling of leaves high above, and Steve tried to press his body as flatly against the forest floor as he could. All he could smell were leaves and dirt, all he could feel was the thudding of his ankle and the hammering of his heart.

“You’re not scared, are you?” That voice, only heard in his head, was inevitably Dustin’s, although the tone was different. The tone was playful in a way Dustin never was. Not accusing enough to be Robin’s, although she would probably have told him to stop being a wimp, too. Although he had Eddie’s voice entirely memorized he was grateful it wasn’t his, even though the words so obviously were. Steve’s heart was already frantic enough from the chase.

This was ridiculous. He was never speaking to Dustin again once he got out of here.

The sound of a twig breaking was what made him scramble to his feet again, realizing that if he was to be stagnant he couldn’t do it there, on semi-open ground, and so he started lugging his body through the trees again, his ankle protesting slightly but otherwise seeming uninjured. The fog seemed to have cleared up slightly, or maybe he had simply gotten used to it. It felt as if he’d been running for hours, but he knew it had barely been ten minutes. He couldn’t even have gotten very far. Was running in circles for all he knew.

“It will be fun,” Dustin had said, dumping his bag on the ground as the group gathered around him. “A trial of endurance. Of speed. Of survival skills.”

“Now you’re overdoing it,” Lucas had said and Steve had been glad someone else was voicing their disapproval. But Eddie had seemed excited, and so Steve hadn’t protested again. He was kind of regretting it now.

“You nervous?” Eddie had asked him quietly, breath against Steve’s cheek. Steve had shaken his head, had acted tough about it. But of course he’d been nervous, and now he regretted not being honest. It made him feel pathetic, tripping through the forest, hunted for fucking sport. How he’d survived literal monsters in the past he couldn’t explain.

He stopped in his tracks just before falling over a fallen tree, cursing under his breath as he tried to climb over it quickly. Too many obstacles in too little time. He felt as if his hunter was breathing down his neck now, and he turned around only to prove to himself that it wasn’t the case, and ended up with a hand around his arm dragging him back over the stem.

He screamed in surprise, then in slight terror, and then, finally, in panic as fingers dug into his abdomen, making his whole body twitch against Eddie’s. When Steve got a glimpse of him through his ticklish laughter, he saw that he was just as flushed as him.

“Fifteen minutes,” Eddie said, stilling his fingers and leaning down to press his lips to Steve’s temple. “You might survive.”

“I’ve survived before,” Steve said, feeling grumpy. “That’s why I don’t get this exercise.”

“Eh, it’s good to hone your skills.”

“And entertain the kids.”

“That too.” Eddie curled his fingers over his belly again and Steve tried to shove him away, but the way they’d landed had Eddie hovering over him and it made it harder to get away. “But now you’re at the mercy of the tickle monster.”

“You’re so annoying.” It might’ve sounded serious had Steve not been giggling, exhausted, ticklish, glad this stupid experience was over. “Not there-”

“Oh here?”

“Eddie.”

Eddie laughed, but left his belly alone. Unfortunately it only meant he moved upward, to the sides of his ribs, making Steve squirm into the earth beneath him, feet kicking, profanities flying. But it was all nearly - nearly - worth it when Eddie kissed him, the two of them entangled for as long as they felt they could get away with it.

“Did you fall before?” Eddie asked once he’d helped him up, brushing leaves off of him. “I thought I saw your tumble out of sight.”

Steve sighed. “I did. It fuckin’ hurt.” Not that much, but he felt he needed some sort of sympathy after being dragged into this. “I thought you’d catch up.”

“I got confused and stopped, but heard you once you got up again.”

Steve hummed. He felt as if Eddie had paused on purpose to let him catch his breath, but didn’t call him out on it. “You be the prey next time. See how you like it.”

“Sweetheart.” A hand around Steve’s waist. “There’s nothing I’d like more than to be chased by you.”

#tickling #ticklish!steve harrington #steddie #stranger things fic #steddie fic #stranger things #tickle fic #but like.... barely #n writes #Icarian (allow the ground to find its brutal way to me)

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genshinjourney · 2 months

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Okay so I wanna rant about Dainkaeya so I thought I’d make another post.

Most of this is headcanon but like—it makes sense!

So canonically we know that Kaeya was abandoned by his birth father which regardless of the reason, abandoning your child without explaining why is not cool. Knowing this, I don’t think assuming that he was abused as a child is that far-fetched. He NEVER talks about his past, and doesn’t seem to know what Alberich means which is odd since his father probably told him how important he was. I feel like he has jumbled/supressed childhood memories due to childhood trauma. We see Dain is very pale and a “pure blood Khaenri’an”. That leads me to believe Kharnri’ans have pale skin. Given Khaenri’ah being located beneath Sumeru and the geographic closeness, it’s not hard to wonder if Kaeya’s mother was Sumerian.

Okay, so stay with me. What if, Kaeya’s father had an illegitimate child with a Sumerian woman? What if Kaeya carried some sort of trait that Khaenri’ah needed in an heir? What if Kaeya’s father was ashamed of his infidelity and lied to Kaeya about his mother dying when she is alive somewhere in Sumeru? What If he abandoned Kaeya because Kaeya didn’t look like a true Khaenri’an? Yes, I’m implying the Alberiches are white supremacists, Sue me.

I know it’s never talked about, but like realistically, there has to be some racism in Teyvat. Most of the darker skinned characters are either from Sumeru or Southern Liyue. (You’d think the Inazuma cast would be darker considering they get a lot of sun on an island, but whatever). I would feel like there’s great economic inequality in Sumeru since you see how rich the city and akademia is, but then like there’s probably a lot of poor homeless people surviving in the desert. Like Sumeru is way richer than Mondstandt, but the wealth is not distributed well at all. Thus Sumeru has a reputation for thieves and bandits and this translates to racism. Idk, I’m just spitballing here. But like it makes sense. (The reason kaeya doesn’t face this in mondstandt is because everyone knows him and he’s a knight). Growing up he’d probably get teased for it because I’ve never seen a Mondstandter that wasn’t white as snow. The description even says he has an exotic experience! I like to think Diluc defended him from getting bullied as a kid!

Anyway this has nothing to do with Dain but I went on a whole ass rant, I’m sorry. Anyway, Kaeya doesn’t remember much about his childhood because of trauma, and we know Dain’s memories are scuffed and he has a ton of trauma. I think this could be a great element for a ship and Dain like reluctantly helping Kaeya since they have mutual interest in destroying the abyss order, but growing fond of him. I think maybe Kaeya can’t get what Dain told him out of his head and wants to go confront his father or find out more about his past and Dain knowing most about Khaenri’ah can help with that. Also Dain strikes me as very reserved and stoic whereas kaeya is outgoing and flirty but they both act the way they do to hide their trauma!

Anyway, I’m writing a fanfic about this and this whole thing is so interesting to me!

Also I’m a hardcore believer in HalfDain, like come on, they were totally in love.

#dainsleif #kaeya alberich #kaeya #genshin impact #genshin kaeya #Dainkaeya #I am obsessed with this #sorry #i need help lmao #this is my headcanon and I’m sticking to it dammit #kaeya headcanons

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chuubbles · 1 year

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the florist.

pairing: y.jungwon x f!reader

w. fluff, suggestive, mentions of drinks(?)

t. love at first sighttt!!

author’s note: late night thoughts led me to think about cats and then flowers. yeah💁‍♀️

🎶: see you again, tyler the creator feat. kali uchis

jungwon was never a big romance type. the most he’s done was intense makeouts, which led to you know what. sad to say, he was the one who always ended the relationship. or, he got cheated on. not fun stuff. since his senior year at highschool had been getting tough he decided to take a break from love. his face now always stuffed up in history books and his hand rapidly writing down math notes. i mean, getting into a good college is important, right? yeah. no distractions allowed.

that’s until he headed to a floral shop on a saturday morning. he was going to visit his grandparents, and thought it’d be nice to get them a nice bouquet with the money he’s been saving up. as soon as he walked through the door, a little golden bell above the door chimed. his nose was taken ahold by the different aromas of colors, and his pupils popping seeing all the bright colors. the sun shined perfectly onto the little trinkets around the building, making this place appear ethereal.

upstairs, it was a café with beautiful potted plants and flowers and vegetables growing on the windowsill, the wall, or in the middle of the walkway. there was a little dog running up and down the stairs, following a certain waiter who probably was the owner of the pet. downstairs, it was the actual floral shop. what jungwon was there for.

he examined the different flowers in different sections, them separated by color and type. his grandma loved the color orange and yellow, so he decided to go with those. looking over the colors of the flowers, he felt a gust of breath hit the shell of his ear. he quickly did a 180, staring at the suspect.

“hey… you’ve been looking at these flowers for a while. any of these catch your eye?” you said with a soft smile.

jungwon tensed up. his posture now straight and his face blank. he could feel his heartbeat speeding up and he could definitely sense his face warming up. gosh darn it. he promised himself he wouldn’t be involved with any more romance-related things while in school, but how could he keep that promise when you’re standing right in front of him? sure, you were a complete stranger to him — but love at first sight exists somewhere.

the morning sun was gleaming onto your skin, making it shine like glass. your hair was down, a little red ribbon clip clipped onto the side of your head. you had a thin pearl necklace on, and a silver bracelet. your voice sounded like music to his ears. you were wearing a cute pair of uggs, constantly shuffling your feet. your overalls draped onto you with little flowers sticking out the front pocket. how cute.

“sir. hello? are you okay?” you said while waving your hand in front of his face.

jungwon immediately snapped out of your trance, making eye-contact with you.

“sorry about that, uhm- i really like these colors. can i get these?” he spoke hesitantly, picking up the flowers. gosh he thought he sounded stupid. all of a sudden his mind shutting down and jumbling his words like they were being shaken in a box, just because of you. no one’s ever made him feel this way. not even his past girlfriends that he swore he loved so much that he would do anything for them.

while you were tying together the orange and yellow flowers in a lovely lace paper, you looked up. he was already staring at you, his ears red like his hair.

“what kind of ribbon would you like?” you asked politely.

he blinked a couple times before you brought out the ribbon samples. his hand was trailing over the silks and ribbons and straws, seeing what would accommodate his taste. as doing so, you couldn’t help but look at him a little closer. his red hair was super fluffy, and a little disheveled. he had the appearance of a cat (if that made any sense.) he seemed like a nice guy.

“this, this one is good.” he pointed at a basic green ribbon. you gladly went behind the counter and took out the material to tie around the bouquet. while making an appealing design with the ribbon, he questioned you, “by any chance.. do you have any favorite flowers here?”

you looked up at the boy once more, smiling widely. maybe he was interested in flowers like you. trying to not go overboard with your love for them, you exclaimed,

“yeah! i love petunias, tulips, baby’s breath, sunflowers.. and a lot more, probably.”

you ended your excited answer with rubbing your nape, thinking you went too far. little did you know how cute jungwon found it. his small question eventually sparked up a conversation between you two, and him staying behind at the café for a couple of hours. while you were on your break, you would go to visit him and chat it up. he didn’t care about him studying for an important test when you were there sitting across the small table from him, looking like a literal saint.

he ended up politely asking for you number, and catching your name. jungwon was internally giving himself a pat on the back for being able to get your number and managing to befriend you. he didn’t plan on spending his free time on a girl rather than studying. like mentioned before, he’s never been this hooked. if he’s being honest, you’ve already got him wrapped around your finger. you could make a request and jungwon would say “maybe,” but then eventually do it. you were definitely into him, falling for his cute charm. he was also definitely falling for you, too.

the day was now coming to an end, and it was now dark outside. the flowers were now a dull color but also bright from the moonlight, the brightness leaking into the shop. there were no stars sadly, but a bunch of grey clouds. most of the workers left, or were about to leave; grabbing their coats and bags and keys. the little dog from earlier was now in the previous waiter’s arms, being carried out the door; the tiny bell above the door chiming one last time. you started packing up too, and so did jungwon.

“hey, it was nice meeting you. i hope we can hang out more often,” you muffled while holding a piece of paper in your mouth and putting your phone and keys in your bag. he just giggled, nodding happily.

you two were now outside, about to part ways. you were feeling a little generous, so you decided to pull him into a light hug. jungwon leaped a little inside, his heart beginning to pound crazy. his throat felt tight, and he felt dazed just from smelling the flower scents still on your neck. once you pulled back, you noticed his ears were red again and he was stiff. just like earlier, you thought with a chuckle.

“well, see you later, yang.”

you started walking away, grasping tightly onto your brown tote. you giggled internally, hoping to see the red-haired boy again. you didn’t see his reaction while strolling away, but it probably was a cute one.

you looked up at the dull sky, loving how cloudy it looked. your eyes felt sleepy, and you couldn’t wait to sleep in your warm bed. maybe even text this new boy, jungwon.

the following morning, you did the same routine as you’ve been doing for a couple of months now. at 9 am, you’d unlock the front door, hear the bell chime, water the flowers, veggies, and plants, roll up the windows, and bring a flower cart outside. while rolling out the wooden cart with flowers sitting in it, you tripped slightly over something on the ground. you yelped from the shock.

recollecting yourself, you looked down at your heel to see a bouquet of flowers. it had a bunch of your favorite flowers. you picked it up slowly, standing up and looking around to see if anyone accidentally left it. there was a little cream-colored card sitting inside the flowers that you missed. you plucked it out of the bundle, flipping it over to read it.

hey, y/n! sorry i can’t stop by to chat with you again. im at my grandparent’s house. they loved the bouquet you made! im gonna hang out with them for a while, but i promise i’ll stop by later, yeah? anyways, there should be a latte outside and also this bouquet for you. maybe if you’re free on the weekend we can hang out?

=(^.,.^)=, jungwon

you blushed at the neatly written letter for a while, looking like a total npc just standing there in one pose on the sidewalk. you eventually picked the latte off the ground. with one taste, it tasted like your favorite latte you told him about the other day. you tried hard to keep your emotions maintained, feeling a spark of happiness and love blossoming inside of your small heart. no one’s ever paid this much detail to what you liked. even your exes.

the red-haired boy with cat eyes, was now taking your heart. you went back inside, placing the beautiful bouquet next to the front desk. you texted him:

i got the flowers and latte, thanks so much! im also free this weekend. :)

jungwon immediately responded with:

youre welcome ^^ im also free

jungwon, now in his grandparent’s house sitting in the guest bedroom, was going nuts. you reacted to his text with a heart, sending him over the edge. he was lying on his stomach onto the bed, kicking his feet in the air. he shut off his phone, and practically threw it across the room. he was squealing like a child. who knew him being so strict on romance wouldn’t last long.

“yah!! jungwon-ah!! what was that?” his grandma yelled from downstairs. i guess she heard the thump of the phone launching against the wall.

he didn’t even notice what she said, just him being in his own colorful world.

he couldn’t wait to see you later. this time, with a new bouquet of flowers.

author’s note: i hope yall enjoyed this per usual. ive been going on some writing roll recently, probs cause i feel relaxed lmfao- anyways, the next fic i plan on releasing is with jay!!

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morganski-19 · 4 months

Text

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 6: The Inspection

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 5

tw: descriptions of a minor panic attack

February 1984

Julie watched in horror as her journal was ripped in half by Matthew Anderson. The person who has been torturing her all year, but never stooped to this level. She could deal with the name calling, the pulling on her ponytails and braids, the balls of paper that would be thrown at her in the halls. That was just him being an idiot and picking on the poor kid.

This, this hit differently.

Her journals were her life. Stories written down that were fabricated from her mind or truth she was never able to fully speak. Worlds crafted and characters created. Places she’s always wanted to visit or things she’s always wanted to do. These journals made her days less lonely. Made her life feel fuller.

And now there it lays on the ground ripped into pieces, while Mathew and his friends laugh at her tears. Solemnly, Julie picks up the pieces of her book and runs away, scared that staying there for even a second more would bring on more taunting.

She runs to the back of the school and hides below a staircase, crying over her lost words. Stories jumbles together, pages ripped apart. Everything she’s worked so hard on teared apart in minutes.

“Hey, are you ok?” a boy with a black bowl cut wearing a sweater asks her.

Julie just looks back at the mess in her hands, overwhelmed by it all over again. “They ripped it apart,” she whispers. “Just took it from me an destroyed it.”

“Bullies, they’re just a bunch of mouth breathers,” the boy sits next to her. “It doesn’t look too bad, you could probably tape it back together.”

“Maybe, doesn’t make it the same, though.”

Julie’s mom told her that this journal was sent by her dad. Part of her knew it was a lie, but the innocent part of her really wanted to believe that it was true. This journal was special, it was her yearly gift from her dad. She would write stories in it about happy families, hoping that this magical journal would make her dad show up. That way her mom could be happy again, she could be happy too.

“What was it?” the boy asks.

Julie lines up the pieces of paper into a small, organized stack. “Stories. I like to write sometimes.”

“That cool. My friend likes to draw stories. He says that the best thing about them is how you can create them with your own mind, that way no one can ever really take them from you.”

“I never thought about it that way.” She looks at the piles of stories again and imagines them differently. Instead of ruined castles and homes, she sees rebuilding after a long battle. She sees hope. “Thank you.”

The boy shrugs. “I’m Mike, by the way.”

“Julie.”

. . .

Present Day

Steve hangs up the phone with the owner of Family Video, smiling to himself and can’t help himself from doing a small fist pump. He got the job. Which isn’t a lot, considering he can’t see himself doing it for the rest of his life, but it’s one step closer to passing this inspection.

The inspection has been looming over his head for the past week. After the meeting with the social worker, Steve has been working double to make sure the house was presentable, even if it wasn’t supposed to happen quite yet. Going through each drawer, making sure everything is in its place. Making a small box of all of his upside down related items to find a nice hiding place outside of his house so that they won’t be found.

It was a lot, but it was worth it. There would finally be somebody else living in this house, someone who was family. Another person filling the mass of rooms that stayed empty for his entire life. And by someone who would stay.

Or at least, stay for longer than a week.

This whole placement thing was still weighing over his head. If he was honest with himself, he wanted to one day get permanent custody of Julie, but that wouldn’t be for the best. With all that she’s been through, she deserved someone more stable than him. But he could provide her with a safe place to live where she actually liked, so that was enough.

And maybe when the time came to find a permanent placement, he would be stable enough to get it. If that ever would be a possibility.

But that would involve a better job than retail, his own place and not his parents. No more nightmares and a better explanation for his many scars. A less marked medical history and probably one less NDA than he has signed.

As much as Steve hoped, it didn’t seem feasible. It didn’t seem in reach. The family he’s found would leave again, and he couldn’t stop it. But he wanted to.

Eddie and Robin let themselves in through the front door, promising to help Steve get the house actually ready for the inspection. Since it’s in shambles from his weeklong obsessive searching for every possible thing that could be wrong. There were papers everywhere and things out of place. It needed to be put back together. And Eddie offered to hide out the upside down stuff at his new house, so that was helpful.

“Jesus, dingus,” Robin looks disgusted as she scans the mess, “the hell did you do?”

Eddie does a soft whistle, making his own observations. “Blew up in the living room?”

Steve sighs. “I know it’s bad. Just help, please.”

“Why we’re here.” Robin starts making small piles, organizing the mess.

Eddie grabs a few of the larger items, and brings them to the kitchen, placing them all on the table to be distributed later. Room by room they go through and put everything back to where it was, making sure nothing is out of place. Eventually it ends with Steve and Eddie in his room, gathering up some discarded clothing to be taken to the laundry room.

Steve is mentally checking off a list in his head, adding new things one after another of what he has to do. Clean the kitchen, clean the bathrooms, make sure the guest room beds are made and presentable, make sure there are no visible dangers in the house, check the railings for lose poles. Things he doesn’t even need to do but can’t help but think are necessary.

If this doesn’t go perfectly than what else is he supposed to do. Julie will be stuck in a terrible household until her social worker caves and moves her to another town. He’ll lose the only biological family that’s ever cared about him. All of this will have been for nothing. Julie will be let down and devastated, he’ll be devastated. It’ll all go terribly, and she’ll never talk to him again.

He'll be left alone in this house again. For God knows how long. He can’t move, can’t leave it behind for some reason. It just sits vacant with only him in it. And soon enough the kids will all go away to college, leaving him behind too. Robin will save enough money to go eventually too. Eddie will finally do what he always says and get the hell out of town. Leaving Steve in an empty house with no one around that loves him anymore.

A broken, empty house that has a million things wrong with it. So many things that this will never happen. They’ll see right through to the scared kid he still is but tries to hide. They’ll see the ghost that lives in his backyard. The pain and fear inside of him will come pouring out in the worst way possible. He’ll be deemed as unfit and this will all be for nothing. It’s always for nothing.

“Steve,” Eddie’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “Breathe. In, and out.”

Steve does what he said. Breathing deeply through his nose, not noticing how tight his chest had become. Breathing out through his mouth, hearing how shaky it is. He repeats it again and tries to stop the train on indefinite tracks in his mind, seemingly breaking off from itself and going in a million different ways. Each new branch clouding his thoughts and increasing the panic more.

“That’s good, now again.” Eddie breathes with him, making him hold his breath just slightly to help calm down his heartrate. He guides Steve to sit down on his bed, sitting next to him and taking his hand. Counting him through his breathes until the tightness alleviates, and he can breathe normally again.

“Thank you,” Steve breathes out, slouching a bit.

Eddie rubs his thumb across the back of Steve’s hand, squeezing it just slightly. Warmth radiating through the touch, making Steve want to lean in closer and absorb it.

“What’s wrong?” he asks softly.

Steve takes another deep breath through his nose. “What if this doesn’t work? What if I’m doing all of this for nothing?”

“You’re not,” he says pointedly. “Even if this doesn’t work out, it shows that you tried. That you care about her. Trust me, that means so much more than you realize. For both her and for the social worker. The courts might think differently if you want to take this further, but for temporary, you’re good. Ok?”

He meets Eddie’s eyes, immediately feeling the pull in them. “Ok,” he says, feeling himself start to get lost.

It takes a lot for Steve to let himself go around people, to put down his guard. But here in this moment, he would give it every single time just to get Eddie to look at him like this again. Just pure care in his eyes, gazing over Steve’s face to make sure everything’s ok. Wanting nothing more to this moment then to make sure he’s ok.

“What if everyone leaves me?” Steve whispers his fears so silently he hopes Eddie doesn’t hear. “Robin and the kids will head off to school. Julie will eventually too. And you’re never going to stay in this town. I’ll be all alone again.”

Eddie’s eyes meet Steve’s again and he lets out all the breath in his lungs. Just taken away by the simple beauty of Eddie’s face. He reaches up gently slides his hand across Steve’s neck, just barely cupping his chin. Steve leans into the touch, letting the warmth of Eddie’s hand ground him.

“I’m not leaving, not without you. Neither is Robin, and the kids will always come back. All of them will.”

Steve grabs Eddie’s wrist and holds his hand in place, letting himself sit in this moment. How he ever let himself say no to having this sooner, he doesn’t know. Because in this moment, there’s nothing more he wants then to lean in and capture Eddie’s lips with his. Take back everything he’s said and just dive in headfirst.

When Eddie’s eyes flick down to his lips just slightly, it makes it a million times harder for Steve to want to pull away. But he has to. This is the wrong time, there are things to do, he almost just went into a panic attack. Everything wants to stop him, but he can’t seem to listen to it. Slowly, he starts to lean in.

“Yo, dingus one and dingus 2, I can’t clean a house by myself,” Robin yells from behind the door, breaking the moment.

Steve pulls back, clearing his throat. “We’re coming, calm down.”

Before he can pull his hand away from Eddie’s, a small kiss is placed to the back of it. Warmth enveloping his hand before the coldness washes it all away when they let go. Soon, Steve promises. Soon he’ll be ready for this.

. . .

Julie is waiting in line at lunch when Dustin walks up to her. She rolls her eyes, ready to walk away before he can get in another line of questioning.

“Hi,” he states cheerily, with a stupid smile.

“Hi,” she responds crossly, hoping that it will show him that she’s not in the mood.

Dustin seems unaffected, continuing to follow her through the lunch line. “So, about a few days ago-.”

“It’s fine,” she cuts him off. “You were just curious about your friend. It’s fine.” Julie picks the last of her food and heads over to her usual table.

“I wanted to apologize,” Dustin follows. “I acted like a jerk, and I wanted to say that I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

She sets her tray down on the table and looks at him. A sheepish expression paints his face, and an awkward stance almost as if he wants her to ask him to sit.

“I forgive you,” she says, taking a seat.

“Good,” he says, still standing there.

After their last meeting, he can’t think that she would have invited him to sit with her almost immediately after the apology. It took him a few days just to give it to her anyway, it’s not like she’s that hard to find. But then he was close to Steve, so she should at least try to get to know him. If everything is going to work out the way that they hope, Julie will be seeing a lot of him, and the other kids that he looks after.

“Is there anything else?”

“It’s just,” Dustin sits, without an invitation. “I can’t wrap my head around the idea of Steve having a sister.”

Julie stabs at her food. “Well, it’s true. Living proof right here.”

“No, yeah. I get that. I’ve just always known Steve to be an only child, like me. And now he’s not.”

“If it makes you feel better, he still kind of is. Our dad would rather pretend like I don’t exist.”

“So, you share a dad then?”

Julie stares across the table, “Really? You just apologized for the uncomfortable questions.��

Dustin squints his eyes again, before smiling. “I like you. Let’s start over. Dustin Henderson,” he extends his hand across the table. “Pseudo brother of Steve Harrington.”

“Julie Lawson,” she takes his hand warily and shakes it. “Half-sister of Steve Harrington.”

“That is still so weird,” he says, starting to eat his food.

. . .

“Harrington residence,” Steve mutters through the phone, filing through the mail as he does.

“Can you explain to me why your mother got a phone call last week about a job application of yours?” Richard Harrington speaks through the phone.

Steve’s body straightens on instinct with the voice, trained to present himself the best as possible. His mind races back to the resume he gave Keith, a revised one that he had applied with originally. But he forgot to take his mom off of the reference list when he added Hopper and Joyce. Her name was still there front and center.

“I had applied to be a manager at the video store I’m working at now. One is leaving and I thought I could take their spot.”

His father sighs through the phone. “Wishful thinking, Steven. You won’t just get jobs because you think you can take them. You must work hard for them.”

Steve’s mouth dries. “Well, I got the job. So, I must have worked hard enough for it.”

“Like you would know the meaning of hard work,” Richard chastises without missing a beat. “You didn’t even have to have a college degree to get this job. Those careers are never real hard work.”

Thoughts race in his mind but never reach the front for him to actually say them. His father doesn’t know how hard Steve’s works. Doesn’t know how much pain he’s been through. The thought hasn’t even crossed his mind that there are other things important in life other than work. Other than money.

But his dad will never understand. Never understand how much he’s truly failed in life. How much he’s failed Steve. So, Steve’s stays silent, like he always does.

“I thought you wanted me to understand the meaning behind hard work. That is what I am doing?”

“But for how long, Steven. How long are you going to go around and play the charade as if you are not a Harrington. You have a responsibility to me. To the family. Some day you are going to have to wake up and start your life, and we are not going to wait around forever for you to decide when that day is coming.”

Like you were ever here in the first place, Steve wants to say, but the words get stuck in his throat.

“Every time I think you have started to grow up you prove me wrong. You are still a child, Steven, and an immature one at that. Stop pretending that what you do doesn’t mean anything. Apply to schools again and get in this time. Get a real job, one that looks good on the family. We have a legacy that needs protecting, and you’re ruining it.”

Richard hangs up the phone before Steve can get a single word in.

He stands there for a few minutes, the buzzing from the phone line filling his ear. Stuck in the hopeless, fearful stance that happens after every phone call, every conversation. Every thought of his father that he has ever had.

Eventually, he hangs up the line. Eventually, he places his forehead against the wall and closes his eyes, letting them fill with tears. Letting them roll down his cheeks.

It took years for Steve to understand what he was meant to do and what he wanted to do. And even longer to understand that his father will never love him unless he did what he was meant to do. But every time he tried, he failed. Every time he did what he was told, what was planned, it never worked. It was never enough.

When the schools rejected him, he got a part time job. When Nancy and him ended, he went on the scheduled dates. When the world fucking ended and they weren’t here to witness it, he recovered in seclusion so nobody else would know. For his father. Always for his father and his fucking reputation. But it was never enough.

“You were never here,” Steve whispers to the wall. “You are never here.”

He stands straight again, taking a step back. Staring straight at the phone that his father spoke through however long ago.

“You don’t even know me.”

How can a parent know a child they didn’t even raise? How is a child supposed to live knowing their parents don’t love them? Questions with answers Steve’s been forced to answer. Questions that should have never even be asked.

Steve turns around to face the only family picture in the entire house. A professional taken when Steve was a child. His young face, innocent to what is to come, sits on his mother’s lap. All while his father looms in the background, standing behind them both, a hand on his mother’s shoulder.

“You know nothing about me,” Steve yells. “You have never stayed long enough to try. Not even once.”

Tears are streaming down his face, clouding his vision. His breath picks up, stuttering with sobs.

“I’m not ruining anything. You are the one ruining it. I have seen more than you can possibly imagine, and you call me immature. At least I wouldn’t cheat on my wife. At least I wouldn’t have another fucking kid and hide it from the world. Because I own up to my mistakes, I change. Despite you.”

Despite. Steve has become the person he is without his father’s influence. His proudest accomplishment. He has become the exact opposite of the man who he was supposed to be a clone of.

“Despite you,” he continues. “I found people who care about me. I’ve fought monsters, I’ve saved lives. Can you say the same? I’ve learned from my mistakes, I’ve changed. I’ve grown into a person that I actually like instead of hate. Because I hated myself when I was trying to act like you. And if you were actually here to see it, you would hate who’ve I’ve become. Because despite of you, I’ve become a better person that you could have ever hoped for me to be.”

Something heals itself inside of Steve. Something retreats. The little boy who he once was smiles at him, knowing that what he says is true.

Richard Harrington may have never stayed long enough to know his son. But that meant that his son never got to know anything about his father other than fear and disappointment. And through that disappointment, he grew. And there’s no turning back.

. . .

When Julie walks through the front door of Steve’s house, the lights are dark. It shouldn’t be surprising, she’s been there when he’s at work, but there’s mail on the hallway floor. She picks it up, stacking it gently on the hall table and continues through.

“Steve,” she calls out, walking into the living room. He’s sitting there in the dark, his elbows resting on his knees, face buried in his hands. “Shit, sorry. Do you have a migraine, I can leave.”

“No,” he says, lowering his hands, sitting up. “You’re fine.”

Something’s off. Steve’s hair is disheveled and there is slight redness around his eyes. A part of her wants to leave, let him be alone. He clearly was having some sort of moment. But when she thinks of this empty house, how empty it feels, she can’t leave him to it alone.

“Are you ok?” she asks quietly.

Steve scoffs, looking the other direction and shaking his head. “I’ve been better.”

She racks her brain of ways that her mom used to comfort her. The many things that failed, and how even when she tried her hardest, the sadness was still there. Talking about it always helped, though. Just to get the pain out of your system and have another person listen to it. For someone else to know your pain, for someone else to listen that it’s there.

It was never a lot, but it was something.

Julie walks over to the couch and sits on the cushion next to him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Steve takes a moment before he finally says, “I know you probably got a lot of shit for not knowing your dad, and I know you probably wished you did on some level. But God am I jealous of you for never meeting him.”

“Is he really that bad?”

Steve leans back on the couch and crosses his arms, looking at the ceiling. “Yeah. But it’s more of the fact that I’ve never seen him long enough to know if he was any good.”

There was another thing that sometimes helped when she was feeling down. Similarities. People who could relate to her situation. Show that she wasn’t alone in the way she felt.

And while she couldn’t say that she knows exactly how Steve feels, but she can relate in her own way.

“When I was little,” she starts, “like really young, I would always ask when my dad would come home. When he would finally meet me. For a while, my mom would lie and tell me that my dad was in the army oversees, and that’s why he wasn’t around. And on Christmas, there would always be a gift that was from him. That was the most special present every year, because I could bring it in and prove to the other kids, to prove to myself, that I had a dad that loved me.”

She pauses, thinking back to the gifts that little her would line on her dresser. One for each year, each more special than the last. She would sit and stare at them, praying for a day where her dad would give them to her himself. Once she got older, the spell was broken. The lies were unraveled, and her world was shattered.

“Of course, I didn’t know they were really from my mom at the time. When I found out, I took everything that I thought was from him and put it in a box and went straight out to the dumpster. I wanted to throw them out, cry over the child that believed so hard for something that was never there. But I didn’t. After the lies faded, they were still gifts from one of my parents, it just happened to be my mom.”

The box still sat in her room for years later. Gifts that she couldn’t bear to give away, because it just proved how much her mom loved her. She pretended every year that Julie’s father was still around, just to give her daughter a sense of normalcy. Julie never appreciated it at the time, not until it was too late.

“I guess I’m trying to say that there’s sometimes a little good that comes from the bad. My dad was never around, and after a while, I didn’t want him to be. But my mom was. And those presents made me appreciate her more that she was.”

When she looks over at Steve, he’s looking back at her with a thoughtful look on his face. “She sounded great.”

She looks away from Steve for fear of crying. “She was.”

“I’m sorry you lost her, I don’t think I ever said that.”

Julie has become so used to people saying sorry that the words don’t even affect her that much anymore. Not like they did a month ago. Everyone is sorry, but there’s nothing anyone can to do fix it.

“What’s your good?” she looks back at him.

Steve sighs, taking a moment to think. “Younger me would always wonder why he was never around, why he was never the one who raised me. But looking back, I’m sort of glad he didn’t. That way I turned out to be a better person than he was. He couldn’t raise me to be just like him. Even if he still tries.”

“Is that why all the lights are off, because he’s trying to?”

“Yeah, got a phone call from him today. Told me I was a disappointment because I got the manager job at Family Video.”

Julie sits up. “Oh my god. You got it. That’s great.”

“Not for him and his stupid legacy,” Steve grumbles, repeating what she can assume are his father’s own words.

“Forget him,” She insists. “This isn’t about him, it’s about you. You wanted the job, right?”

Steve shrugs. “Yeah. I did.”

“Then be proud of it. You got what you wanted. Not because of him, because of you. You did that. Own it.”

He smiles. “I guess I did do that.”

“Not guess, did.”

“Whatever,” he laughs, the mood in the room shifting. “Thank you.”

She shrugs, “What are no longer estranged siblings for?”

He snorts. “Cheering each other up about their same shitty dad, apparently.”

“Yeah, apparently.”

. . .

“Well, I think I’ve seen all of the house that I need to,” Sarah concludes, crossing something off on the clipboard she’s carrying. “There is just one more interview that we need to do.”

A slight weight lifts off Steve’s chest, just a slight one. The house inspection has been one of the most nerve-racking things in his life. Someone going through every room in his house and asking questions about the most random things. Looking at his life in one of the most personal ways possible.

“Ok,” Steve responds. “We can head to the kitchen if you’d like.”

Sarah nods and follows him to the kitchen, getting herself ready at the table.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Steve offers. She politely declines.

He sits across from her as she pulls out a file. Glancing quickly at the name and seeing his own across the tab. Papers filled with information about him. He doesn’t know how much she can get before he turned eighteen, but there was plenty past then that he hopes she has no access to.

The NDAs he’s had to sign especially. He might be legally required not to talk about them, but the fact that he has them at all could be concerning. But those records would be sealed, right?

“So, Steve, you live in this house alone?”

“For the most part. My parents also live here but haven’t been back in at least a year and a half.”

He remembers that because they showed up for his graduation. Most kids went out to dinner to celebrate the day. Steve had to sit through a lecture on how he was going to fix the fact that he didn’t get into any colleges.

She nods and glances over the papers in front of her again. Each second without a question making his pulse speed up.

“That’s a long time to be away from the house. Do you take care of all the needs while they are away?”

Steve nods. “Yes. I have been given the rights to upkeep the house. So, paying all of the bills on time, making necessary purchases, making sure everything is up to date and replacing anything that isn’t.”

“And how long have you been doing that?”

He has the strong urge to lie but thinks that could be dangerous. But what is worse, saying that he’s only been doing it for two years, or since he was sixteen.

“I started to take over some of these responsibilities when I was sixteen. But that was mostly the financial stuff. Other normal chores I’ve been doing for longer.”

Sarah makes an almost startled look before writing something down in her notes, flipping to the next page before continuing her questions. Asking how long his parents would normally be away. If there was any change they would come home in the near future. How frequent these trips were and when did they start.

“What I am getting here is you know the financials and other necessities of keeping a good house very well, Steve,” she says with a hint of concern. “Even before you became a legal adult.”

If she only knows the things he’s done, the things he’s seen before becoming a legal adult. “Yes, that’s true.”

“Alright, let’s move on to the rest of the basic questions.”

She asks him if there are any weapons in the house. Basic safety questions to ensure that the house is fit. Then moves on to asking about him. When he graduated high school, where he works. What he likes to do in his free time. What his strengths and weaknesses are. General interview questions to get a better assessment of his personal life.

“You’re doing fine, Steve. You can calm down,” she jokes, marking one last thing before moving on to the last question.

He laughs. “Was it that obvious?”

She nods. “It always is. I just have a few more questions for you and I will leave you be.”

“Alright,” he rubs his palms gently against his jeans.

“Why do you think you would be the right placement for Julie?” She asks it with a smile, trying to make him feel safe but her words only making him panic.

He takes a moment to settle himself, try to think of what to say without it being jumbled. All the reasons seem obvious but not enough. To get her out of a house she hates. To give her a home where she feels safe. Be able to help get her through the rest of her schooling and help her go to the college she wants. Support her through the rest of her life, even if it isn’t permanent.

To finally be able to have the family he’s always wanted.

“I want her to be able to have a home that she feels safe coming home to. For her to have somewhere that feels like a home, that feels like a family. When we first met, I didn’t know what was going to come of it. But I knew I wanted to help her.”

He takes a deep breath, trying to figure out the best way to put it.

“My father is a difficult man. He’s done a lot of things in his life that I don’t approve of, or would repeat. And I couldn’t help but think that I had to help her. She was a victim of his mistakes, something I knew how to manage. So, I got to know her. I reached out and waited for her to make the decision if she wanted to get to know me. And she did.”

Steve thinks back to the first few moments of meeting her. The sorrow for him in her eyes that came with the information she’d given him. Not even realizing that she’d given him the one thing he’s begged for since he was little. A sibling. He’d be stupid not to try to get to know her.

“I know I’m not what you normally see when it comes to potential guardians. And I know that there are people that are going to tell you that this is a bad idea. You might even think it yourself, without them telling you. But I care about Julie, and I want to make sure she’s in a house that can provide for her. That loves her. And if I’m not the best fit for it, if there’s someone better, I’m not going to stop it. But she seems to really like it here, she comes over almost every day. And it might just be because she doesn’t like that other house, but I can’t help but think that she likes it here. That she feels comfortable with me.”

Sarah places down her pen and looks at him, fully paying attention to what he is saying. It only makes him feel like he’s saying the right thing.

“All I want is to make sure she’s taken care of. That she’s getting what she needs to survive through this change. I want to be there for her while she grieves her mom. Even though she tries to hide how bad it is. I want to make sure that she can go to the college she wants to. I want to make sure that she’s happy. And even if you tell me this isn’t possibly, that I’m not the right fit for her. I’m still going to be there for her, because I want to be her family. Whatever that means for us.”

All Sarah does is smile and close the file in front of her. “I think that answered the rest of the questions I had for you. You did very well.”

“Thank you,” he sighs in relief. “When will I figure out your decision.”

“Well, I have one last interview to do with Julie, but soon. We’re moving quicker than normal as the state of that house she’s currently placed in is not meeting my standard. They won’t be fostering for us anymore after this,” she adds as if she isn’t supposed to tell him. “You should be hearing from me within the next week or so.”

Only a few more days until he figures out if this was all for nothing.

“Thank you, for even considering this,” he says while walking her out.

“It is always a priority for me to look at family members, especially those who care as much as you do.” She holds out her hand and he shakes it. “It was a pleasure meeting with you again, Steve.”

With that, she walks out the door and the inspection ends. Leaving him with what feels like misplaced hope starting to flutter in his chest. He might have actually pulled this off. Just might.

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#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #julie lawson #dustin henderson #lost sibling fic #secret sibling #steve has a sibling #steve has a sister #tw minor panic attack #cw minor panic attack #stranger things fanfic #fanfic

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