#see the kitchen from the couch and all he sees is someone with glowing green lasers fighting moving food

[yourlocalcorviddad]

Saw a post about Danny calling Dani his little Comet, this one, and then I had an idea to and mix it with a favourite Hozier song, Work Song. Feel free to add or whatever if it strikes you!

-

"Ah, shh, shh little Comet, it's ok, I've got you."

The attempt at keeping his voice steady didn't really work, but he was sure he was keeping a good hold on his emotions at least, since Ellie was calming down in his hold. It didn't mean he wasn't panicking inside at the situation but he was managing. He only had to make it a few more weeks before the others could come, then everything would be safe.

He got her settled in his bed, sleeping and calm now. He had a crib for her, and Jordan too eventually, but he couldn't really stand the thought of them to far. So bed it was.

Both clone and future self had been deaged due to the damage taken, done at Frostbite's direction to heal and better stabilise both. Jordan's injuries had come in defence of both him and Ellie, and, like a weird mirror, Ellie's from defending him and the injured Jordan when he was to weakened from injuries to fight. Ellie had just been deaged from it Dan, who he decided was going to be called Jordan too give himself some separateness, was reverted to his core. In an effort to protect and give him time to heal, he has him inside himself, next to his own core. He'd been warned it meant that Dan would likely take on more of being like his child than his future self, but he just wanted him alive, not like he didn't have the risk of it anyway, at least this time it was under his control.

There was no hope of returning to his dimension, it had been clear at that point, but they had been trying to free all the ghosts they could and get all liminal people and their family rounded up to safety before the GIW got to them. Danny, as the heir prince-until he was of age for the throne at 100-was sent ahead to bridge trust with another dimension, this one in fact, to see it they could bring their people, his people, there.

Clockwork and the Ancients and Observants worked with his parents and the others from town, and other liminality touched people, to get everyone into the ghost zone, which he had leaned also got called the Infinite Realms, safely and cut off that dimension from it.

Apparently that's what most magical creatures had done to that one anyway, long ago. He'd even met the descendents of the witches that had been hunted by, and thus placed the curse on, his family back when Amity was a village.

They'd lifted the, severely weakened by then but still present, curse after apologies were made and explanations done. It was a relief, even though it is likely what had even held him tethered to life enough to become a halfa at all, but he felt more at ease now without it.

All in all, it led him to where he was now though. A new world, a new set of rules, similar but still so different, and two kids that were essentially his.

The sudden crash outside his window on the alley side had him rushing over, ready to defend as best he could, still healing from the injuries in the last fight with the GIW, in case it was a villain attacking.

Only to pause at the sight of the, now likely unconscious, blue and black clad vigilante in the dumpster below.

"Fuck... Well can't leave him, who knows who'd find him there."

It took a bit of work, and mild use of his weak but still present powers, but he got him up stairs and into his apartment onto the, comfortable if he said so himself, couch.

Once there, he checked him over for injuries, careful not to take the domino off and keeping him as clothed as possible, but tending to his wounds as best possible. Doing so, he realised the other was probably only about 20-21, close to his age at least. It made him wonder how long the other had been a hero, and made a thought to ask later.

For now he settled in to make some food -that hopefully wouldn't accidentally come alive again-and keep an eye on his daughter and the hero.

#dpxdc #death defying #defying gravity #can't remember which is the ship for Danny/Dick but yeah #giw fucked around to much and the entire dimension is gonna get cut off #they're moving people over in between fights and all #Danny gets to stake out the DC universe since he's to injured to fight for a while #Ellie is Dani deaged into a baby and Dan is reverted to core and basically needed to be incubated to heal #and Danny didn't want to burden anyone else and since he'd be stationary for a while he took it upon himself #trans Danny? yeah #trans Danny au cause i said so XD #now I'm just imagining the food coming back to life just as Dick wakes up and he can like #see the kitchen from the couch and all he sees is someone with glowing green lasers fighting moving food #he's gonna think Tameranian first i bet #that's all i got for now it's almost 2i should sleep

[bornonthesavage]

It was an undeniable fact that Steve was lucky. He had been told it more times than he could count, from all sorts of people, so it must be true. His friends at school told him he was lucky that he had no one at home to give him a bedtime or make him eat vegetables. The housekeeper that came to bring him groceries and to clean once a week told him he was so lucky to live in such a nice house. Ever since he could remember, his parents had told him that he was lucky to be born to an upper-class family. And when others were around, Steve kept up the façade. He could pretend that he agreed, with bright smiles and boastful words. But in the late hours of the night, when he was all alone in that big house, lucky wasn’t the word he thought about. No, what Steve really was, was lonely.

Even at twelve years old, Steve was pretty sure it wasn’t normal for his parents to leave him alone for up to a month at a time. When he was young, they had hired nannies to care for him while they were away. That hadn’t been great either, but at least there had been someone else in the house with him. Someone to talk to and watch TV with and to make dinner. Then, on Steve’s twelfth birthday, his parents had told him he was old enough to look after himself while they were away. They trusted him to not burn down the house, at least. That had been six months ago.

Now, six months later, Steve sat alone in his living room. His parents had left earlier in the week, promising to be home before the end of the month and told him to call if he needed anything. He never called. What would be the point? It wasn’t like they would come home. No, if he needed something, he would figure it out on his own.

Steve pulled his knees up to tuck against his chest as he sat on the couch, watching a rerun of Gilligan’s Island. A half-eaten bowl of popcorn sat on the coffee table along with an empty coke can. He had heated up a bowl of chicken noodle soup for dinner, which he’d eaten with crushed up saltine crackers, but he always found himself craving a snack before bed. It was almost ten o’clock, but he wasn’t yet tired.  

When the episode ended, Steve stood and began to make his way toward the kitchen. He could go for one more coke before bed. But before he even made it out of the living room, a loud clatter from the back yard made him freeze. He turned, creeping slowly toward the glass door that overlooked the pool. It had sounded like it came from the shed, which sat beyond the pool deck, nestled almost among the trees. His hand shook as he reached up to flip on the back light. A part of him was convinced he would see a horrible monster racing up his yard toward the house, ready to devour him. But that was ridiculous. There was no such thing as monsters.

The yard was completely empty, the pool glowing an eerie green in the night. Steve scanned the perimeter until his eyes landed on the shed. Though it was dark, it looked as if the door was slightly ajar. Now, Steve knew the sensible thing to do was to ignore it until morning. But then he remembered that Kasie Jones, the girl who sat in front of him in math class, had found an injured mother cat behind her house just one month earlier. It was Springtime, she had said, which meant lots of animals would be having babies. If she hadn’t found them, the mother cat and her babies could have died. Steve couldn’t live with being responsible for that.

So, with only a mild amount of fear, he grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen drawer and slid open the glass door. It was early April, so while the days had grown warm, the nights still held a bit of a chill. Steve slid on his outdoor sandals and began to make his way across the yard. Everything was quiet now, except for the crickets. He approached the shed, tilting his head to see if he could hear any meowing. There was nothing.

It wasn’t until he was directly outside the shed that real fear began to prickle at the back of his neck once more. He was far enough from the house that if anything burst out and took chase, he likely wouldn’t make it back without getting caught. Steve took a deep breath and remembered what his dad was always telling him.

“Be a man. Real men don’t shake like little babies.”

Right. Be a man. He stepped forward and grabbed the edge of the door, which had been swaying slightly in the wind, and yanked it open. There wasn’t much inside the shed, just pool equipment and a few yard tools. Steve leaned inside, casting his light around for any sign of an injured cat. He took a step inside, letting the door swing partially shut behind him. The light caught on random items as he scanned. An old broken truck from when he was little, the pool noodles he liked to use when the weather was warm enough, a leaf blower, a pair of human eyes.

Steve screamed, his heart slamming up into his throat as he stumbled backward and dropped the flashlight. His back hit the wall and he fell, his legs giving out with the sheer force of terror he felt in that moment. There was someone else in the shed with him, someone curled up beneath the work bench on the far wall. The flashlight had rolled away from him, its beam pointed in the wrong direction for him to see. Steve glanced at the door, wondering how quickly he’d be grabbed if he made any sudden movements. A quiet voice spoke from the shadows.

“H-hey. It’s alright. You don’t have to be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you.”

That made Steve pause. Whoever it was sounded young, probably close to his age, and they also sound afraid. But what was another kid doing in his shed at night? Steve took a moment to let his heart rate slow before speaking again.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

For a few seconds it was silent, but then he spoke again. “Eddie. My name is Eddie. I was… I was just looking for a safe place to sleep.”

“To sleep?” Steve asked, furrowing his brow. “Why would you want to sleep in this dingy old shed? There are like, a hundred spiders in here, I’m pretty sure.”

He heard the other boy shift around a bit. “It’s better than outside.”

Well, maybe that was true, but it still didn’t explain much. Slowly, Steve moved onto his knees and crawled forward to grab his flashlight. This put him closer to the other boy, with Steve knelt in the middle of the small room. He raised the light until it fell on the other’s face.

Steve had been right that he seemed to be around his age. With dark curls that fell around his ears and big, pretty brown eyes, Eddie didn’t look like much of a threat at all. In fact, he seemed to be in bad shape. There were dark circles beneath his eyes and his cheeks looked a bit sunken in, as if he hadn’t eaten in a while. His knees were tucked up against his chest, but Steve could tell the jeans he wore were dirty and tattered.  

“Are you homeless?” Which, okay, maybe that was a rude thing to ask, but Steve thought it was a fair question.

Eddie looked away, his brows lowering slightly. “I’m- I mean… Yeah, I guess so.”

Steve tilted his head. “Where are your parents?”

Something in Eddie’s expression became tight, before crumbling. “They’re dead. My mother died a year ago, my father just last month.”

“Shit,” Steve mumbled. That really sucked. He had never met someone who had lost both their parents. “Do you not have any other family?”

Eddie shook his head. “It’s just me.”

“Oh.” Steve shifted off his knees so he could cross his legs. “But, there are places you can go, aren’t there? Like, an orphanage or something? I could probably call the police and they could—”

“No!” Eddie snapped, his eyes darting up to Steve’s. “No, please, nobody can know about me.”

Steve frowned. That was definitely an odd reaction. “Why? Are you some sort of criminal?”

Eddie snorted, the corner of his lips twitching, as if he found that amusing. “No, not really.”

“Not really? Either you are or you aren’t.”

“I’m not,” Eddie insisted. “I’ve never hurt anybody that wasn’t trying to hurt me. But… There are people. Bad people, who would hurt me if they ever found me. So, I’ll leave if you want me to, but you can’t tell anyone about me.”

Steve stared at the other boy. His eyes were wide and serious, his mouth set into a hard line that told Steve he wasn’t joking. Whatever this kid was mixed up in was dangerous, he could tell that much. It would be smart for Steve to tell him to get lost, to find somewhere else to hide out. But, still. He didn’t want him to just leave.

“Where would you go? If I told you to leave, I mean.”

Eddie let out a breath, his shoulders dropping. “I don’t know. Maybe someone else’s shed. Maybe try and make my way to Indianapolis.”

Steve fiddled with his hands. “That sounds dangerous. You can’t go off to the city all by yourself. You’re just a kid, like me.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Eddie’s lips. “Not just like you. I can take care of myself.”

That struck Steve somewhere in his chest, the sentiment all too familiar. “Yeah, so can I, but that doesn’t mean you should have to. You should have someone to look after you.”

Eddie tilted his head, his eyes searching Steve’s face. “Are you always alone?”

“What? How- how do you know that?”

“Oh, um,” Eddie averted his eyes, suddenly looking a little bit guilty. “I’ve been here for a few days. I wasn’t trying to spy on you, but I saw that it’s just you in the house. Nobody else ever came or went, but you must have parents, right?”

Steve huffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I have parents. They just… they go out of town a lot for business. And I can’t go with them, because they don’t need a kid running around while they do work. But, it’s like, fine. I have the house all to myself, and I don’t have a bedtime, and I can eat whatever I want.”

Unlike all the other times Steve had told another kid this, Eddie didn’t look all that impressed. If anything, he looked sad. Which… was stupid. So stupid. Steve was lucky. He had everything he could ever want. He didn’t need some orphan, who clearly didn’t have anything this nice, feeling sorry for him.

Eddie rested his chin on his knees. “That sounds really lonely.”

A heavy pit settled in Steve stomach. Nobody else had ever acknowledged that before, and he didn’t really know what to do with it. His first instinct was to defend his parents, to tell Eddie that it was fine, and he didn’t know what he was talking about. But another part of Steve, a stronger part, felt an overwhelming sense of relief. It settled something inside Steve, hearing someone else say the words he’d been keeping locked inside for so long. It was validating.

Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah, it can be. But, that’s just the way it is.”

Eddie didn’t look convinced. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but before he could, a violent shudder shook his whole body. Steve’s eyes wide at the look of pain that crossed Eddie’s face and he hesitantly reached out a hand. Only, that seemed to make it worse, as Eddie flinched away from his touch.

“No, don’t come closer!” Eddie warned. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Steve furrowed his brow. “Hurt me? Why would you hurt me?”

“No, I don’t want to, but… I haven’t eaten in a week. I’m afraid I won’t be able to control myself.”

A week? What the hell? That was way too long for a person to go without food! No wonder Eddie looked so sickly. He was starving to death.

“Hey, if you’re hungry, come inside with me. I can get you something to eat, no problem!”

But Eddie only shook his head, his face still pained. “No, Steve, it’s not… It’s not that simple. There’s nothing in your house I can eat. Well, nothing that I’ll allow myself to have.”

“What are you talking about?”

A look of resignation came over Eddie’s face. “Steve… I’m not- I’m not normal. You should leave. You don’t want me to come into your house with you.”

He really wasn’t making any sense now. Did Eddie think that just because he was homeless and without parents, he was undeserving of kindness? That was ridiculous. If anything, it made Steve want to help him even more. “Uh, yeah, I do. That’s why I invited you.”

His arms tightened around his legs, as if he were protecting himself. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

Eddie’s eyes flashed up to meet Steve’s. “Invite random strangers into your home. It’s dangerous.”

Steve snorted. “I don’t think you’re dangerous, Eddie. You look one minute from keeling over.”

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a humorless laugh. “And that makes it even worse.”

Alright, Steve was starting to grow tired of arguing about this. “Dude, come on. You have to eat something.”

Eddie made a little sound, like a whimper in the back of his throat, and closed his eyes. “If you knew the truth about me, you wouldn’t say that. If you knew the truth, you would run away. Or maybe even try to hurt me.”

“Whoa, hey, no. Eddie, I promise I won’t hurt you. I’m just trying to help.”

Outside the shed, it sounded like the wind began to pick up as the structure creaked ominously. Steve pulled his jacket more firmly around himself and couldn’t help but think that Eddie’s thin hoodie didn’t seem warm enough. Maybe Steve could give him some of his clothes. It’s not like his parents would ever notice. The look Eddie gave him when he opened his eyes was filled with sorrow.

“Yeah, I know. You seem really nice, Steve. And I’m afraid that if I come with you, I’ll hurt you without meaning to, and then I’ll be a monster, which I don’t want to be.”

Steve was trying to understand, he really was. People called him stupid sometimes, which he didn’t really agree with, but now he was struggling to follow what Eddie was saying. How could Eddie hurt him without meaning to?

“Eddie, I don’t understand. Please, you can tell me the truth. I won’t run away, I promise.”

Eddie shook his head, casting his big eyes down. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Hey, look at me.” He waited until Eddie did, then scooted forward on his knees. Slowly, without making any sudden movement, he held up his pinky. “I pinky promise I won’t leave you. And I always keep my pinky promises.”

A hesitant smile grew on Eddie’s face, though he still seemed extremely uncertain. Finally, after what felt like forever, Eddie brought his pinky up and wrapped it around Steve’s. It was slightly shocking, just how cold Eddie was. Like his skin was just a thin layer of ice, molded around bones. That couldn’t be good. Steve really needed to get him inside. Before he could pull away, Eddie spoke.

“And I promise to do my very best not to hurt you.”

Steve grinned. “Well, there you go. So, go on then. Tell me what the problem is.”

Eddie sighed, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “Okay, I guess I might as well. I don’t have anything else to lose. Um, have you… have you heard of vampires?”

“Vampires?” Steve asked, scrunching up his nose. “What, like Dracula? Or The Count on Sesame Street?”

Eddie snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I mean sort of. But also, no. What if… what if vampires were real?”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “I don’t understand. Vampires aren’t real, so what does that have to do with anything?”

A look of frustration crossed Eddie’s face. “Steve. I’m trying to tell you. Vampires are real. I know, because I am one.”

For several seconds, Steve didn’t speak. The only sound to be heard was the shifting of trees outside and the quiet breathing of the two boys. Finally, Steve let out a laugh.

“Yeah, right, okay. Look, I don’t know why you don’t want to tell me—”

“Steve—”

“But it’s fine, I guess. You don’t have to trust me, I guess.”

“Steve, I am telling you the truth! See, this is another reason I didn’t want to tell you. Humans never believe in anything beyond what they see in the daylight.”

“Oh, come on,” Steve said, dropping back off his knees to sit on his butt. “I get it, you’re trying to prank me, for whatever reason. But I can’t help you unless I know the truth. Or at least until you tell me what the real problem is. You’re not a vampire.”

“I am!” Eddie insisted, the corners of his lips turning down in a frown. “Do you want me to prove it to you?”

At this point, Steve was getting a little bit annoyed. The joke wasn’t that funny. He was cold, and the dirt on the cement floor was digging into his backside, and he really just wanted to get back inside. So, with a jeering smirk, he leaned forward.

“Yeah, sure, go ahead. Prove that you’re a vampire.”

Eddie didn’t move at first, just continued to stare at Steve with his too big eyes. It was a little unnerving, to be honest, the way he didn’t seem to blink or even move. And then, in a flash of movement too fast to be humanly possible, Eddie shot forward. Steve flinched at the unexpected movement, falling back onto his elbows with a small shout of surprise. He half expected to be attacked, to maybe feel Eddie’s hand around his throat or a fist against his cheek. But it never came.

Slowly, Steve opened his eyes. Only, Eddie was nowhere to be seen. The spot beneath the bench was empty, and when Steve looked around, he didn’t see Eddie anywhere. Had he slipped out the door and run away? Why? Steve didn’t understand. But then, Eddie spoke.

“Steve. I’m up here.”

A chill ran down Steve’s back, some primal part of him that had been dormant waking up at hearing the voice from above. Slowly, Steve tilted his head back. What he saw defied all explanation. Eddie was on the ceiling. He was crouched upside down, his hands gripping the wood beam and his feet planted flat on the roof. Eddie blinked down at him, his hair dangling away from his face.

Steve opened his mouth to scream, a natural response he thought. But before he could utter a sound, Eddie was off the ceiling. He landed on top of Steve, his hand pressed firm to his mouth to stop any sound from escaping and his other hand holding Steve to the ground. For a wiry looking kid, he was sure strong.

“Please, Steve, don’t scream,” Eddie begged, his wide eyes earnest. “I promised not to hurt you, and I won’t. You’re safe with me, okay?”

For a few seconds, all Steve could do was stare up at him. He shouldn’t believe him, logically he knew that. Vampires drank blood, human blood, which Steve had. But if Eddie had wanted to hurt him, surely, he would have already. He could even do it right now. Steve was trapped beneath him, his movement completely restricted. So, slowly, Steve nodded. Eddie chewed his lip, before removing his hand. Steve took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Holy crap. You’re like, a real vampire?”

Eddie nodded, still looking concerned. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Wow. How long have you been a vampire for?”

“Uh, my whole life?” Eddie said with a chuckle.

Steve frowned. “Wait, what? But I thought vampires were made by being bitten.”

Eddie finally climbed off Steve, sitting cross legged in front of him while Steve sat up and matched his position. “Yeah, some. Some vampires are humans who were turned. But others, like me, were born as vampires. Both of my parents were vampires, and they had me.”

Huh. Steve had never heard of anything like that before. “But what about, like, mirrors and blood drinking and stuff?”

“Eh, I mean, most of the stuff humans know about vampires was made up by them. Except for the blood drinking, that’s true.”

“What about sunlight?”

Eddie scrunched up his nose. “Well, I won’t burst into flames if I’m exposed to it. But it does sting my skin and hurt my eyes, so I avoid it if possible.”

Steve nodded, taking that it. “So, that’s why you’re hiding out here in my shed?”

Eddie nodded.

“Hmm, ok. Well, you know, you might be more comfortable inside the house.”

“You… would invite me into your house? Even knowing what I am?”

Steve shrugged. “Yeah, why not? I believe that you won’t hurt me, and it doesn’t sound like you have anywhere else to go. Plus, I’m getting pretty cold.”

He pushed himself to his feet and held his hand out for Eddie, who hesitated. He looked unsure, and maybe a little bit afraid, though Steve couldn’t imagine of what. It wasn’t like he was going to hurt Eddie. When Eddie didn’t immediately take his hand, Steve gave it a shake.

“Come on. It’s okay.”

Finally, Eddie reached up and took it. Steve hoisted him up, then still holding his hand, led him out of the shed. Eddie looked around as they crossed the yard, as if afraid someone was going to pop out and do a sneak attack. They got to the sliding glass door and Steve pushed it open, stepping into the wonderfully warm living room. He tried to pull Eddie in after him, but the other boy hesitated on the threshold.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure? Are you sure you want to invite me in? Once you do, you can’t take it back.”

Steve sighed. “Eddie, I don’t understand. You promised you won’t hurt me, and I’m not going to hurt you, so what’s the problem?”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to help myself. It’s just… I’m so hungry. I haven’t eaten anything in almost a week, and you… you smell really good. And I don’t want to hurt you, I promise. But what if I lose control?”

Steve blinked a few times. Oh. He hadn’t really considered that. “And… you need to drink blood? That’s all you eat?”

Timidly, Eddie nodded.

“Right. Okay. Well, maybe I could give you a little bit of my blood, just to hold you over, and then—”

“No!” Eddie shouted, ripping his hand out of Steve’s. “No, Steve, please don’t offer me that. I’m too hungry, I know I won’t be able to stop once I’ve started. I’ll kill you, and then… then I really will be a monster.”

Steve chewed his lip, wavering in the doorway. “What do you normally do when you’re hungry?”

“I hunt animals, usually. But… I waited too long. I’m too weak to catch anything on my own now.”

Right. That made sense. Steve was a little relieved to hear that Eddie usually hunted animals. If he could only drink human blood, they would definitely be in a bit of a pickle.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” he said, “Tonight, you’ll come in and sleep somewhere cozy. You won’t kill me or try to drink my blood. Tomorrow I’ll skip school and go to the butcher in town. I know they stock cow blood, because my nana bought some a few years ago to make this really gross pudding.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide, his mouth falling open slightly. “You’d do that? You’d really go out of your way to help me?”

Steve grinned wide, taking his hand once more. “Of course! We’re both on our own right now, so we should look after each other, shouldn’t we? And my parents left me plenty of money for snacks and stuff, so they won’t even notice if I use it for something else.”

There was something warring in Eddie’s big brown eyes, a well of emotion that Steve couldn’t guess at. All he knew was that he wanted to help Eddie, and so he was going to. When Eddie still didn’t make any move to come inside, Steve tugged gently on his hand.

“Come on. I’m inviting you inside. You’ll be okay.”

Eddie took a deep breath, then nodded, as though coming to a decision. Hesitantly, he stepped forward, bringing one foot over the threshold. He stared down at his foot, as if half expecting it to burst into flames. Could that happen? Steve really hoped not. Finally, Eddie brought his other foot inside. Steve smiled, nodding encouragingly.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.”

He slid the glass door shut behind them and locked it before closing the curtains. Eddie had wandered a few more paces in, standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room. His baggy sweatshirt hung loosely from his limbs, and in the light, Steve could see smudges of dirt on the other boys face. It must have been a long time since he’d had a bath.

“Do you want to use my shower before bed?”

Eddie glanced at him over his shoulder, his brow furrowing. “Are you saying I stink?”

“What? No! No, I wouldn’t say that, I promise! It’s just—”

He stopped when he saw Eddie chuckling. “I’m only joking. I do smell. That’s what happens when you live in the woods for a couple weeks.”

Steve huffed and rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, very funny. Come on, follow me.”

He shut off the tv as they passed it by before switching off the lights and leading Eddie to the stairs. The other boy followed close behind, and when Steve turned to look at him, saw he was taking everything in.

“This place is like a castle,” Eddie murmured.

“Eh, not really. Castle’s have a lot more people in them. It’s just me here.”

“Why don’t your parents want to live here?”

“They do!” Steve said, defensive. “They do live here. They just… go on a lot of business trips. They’re super busy.”

Eddie hummed, not commenting on it any further, which Steve was grateful for. He didn’t want to talk about his parents. All that ever did was make him sad, and he wasn’t in the mood to feel sad. He had a vampire in his house. A vampire who might want to be his friend. He couldn’t entirely wrap his head around it.

They reached the second landing and Steve led Eddie down the hall to his room. He flicked on the light and moved to sit on the bed, watching Eddie as he looked around the room. For some reason, the corners of Eddie’s mouth turned down in a frown.

“What, you don’t like my room?”

Eddie shrugged, walking to stand beside his dresser with the ribbons he’d won at his school’s field day. “It’s not very… you, is it?”

“What do you mean.”

“I don’t know. Where are the pictures? The posters of your favorite bands and movies? Where’s the mess?”

Steve looked around, forcing himself to see his room from someone else’s perspective. “My mom doesn’t like messes. And I just, I don’t know, haven’t really thought about adding anything to the walls.

Eddie hummed again. “Well, you should. Give this checkered monstrosity a little life.”

“Hey, it’s not that bad.”

“It sort of is. Let me guess, your mom picked it out?”

Steve rolled his eyes. Eddie sure was a lot sassier now that he’d come inside. Hopefully that meant he felt comfortable. “Yeah, so? I don’t mind it, so why does it matter?”

Eddie held up his hands. “Hey, as long as you like it.”

“Right. Well, if you want to take a shower, it’s right through that door,” he said, motioning to his on-suite. “I’ll put a towel and some pajamas you can borrow on the counter for when you get out.”

“Yeah, ok, cool.”

Eddie stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him, leaving Steve alone to sit on his bed. Right, this was totally normal and okay. He had a vampire in his house, one that was apparently his age and who had nowhere else to go. If his parents found out, they’d flip. Luckily, they weren’t home, so there was no need to worry about that. Unless… well, unless Eddie decided he wanted to stay. Surely being here would be better than going to the city alone, to ask a bunch of creepy older vampires if he could live with them. That sounded pretty terrifying, if you asked Steve.

Because really, what could they have that Steve didn’t? Did they have a twenty-seven-inch screen tv? No, he doubted it. Would they have a pool, or a whole forest behind their house for privacy? In the city? Yeah, he didn’t think so. Which, okay, maybe he was getting ahead of himself. He had just met Eddie, he couldn’t ask him to stay with him. Even if he wanted to.

It would be pretty cool to have someone else his age who lived in his house, though. Someone who wouldn’t leave on trips for most of the month. Someone he could watch tv with and play games with and stay up talking to. It would be like having a live in friend. That sounded… that sounded really nice.

Steve was jolted from his thoughts at the sound of something clattering in the shower.

“Sorry!” Eddie shouted. “Dropped the shampoo.”

Ah, right, he needed to get Eddie a towel and some clothes. He grabbed one of his fluffiest towels from the cupboard and then took out his second favorite set of pajamas. He’d gotten them from his grandma last Christmas, and they had Snoopy on them. Trying to be as quiet as he could, he placed the items on the bathroom counter before scurrying out again.

The water turned off a few minutes later. Steve climbed into bed to wait, pulling the blankets up and leaving his bedside lamp on. The door opened and Eddie stepped out. Despite being a year older than Steve, the pajamas still hung a little loose on him. His dark curls dripped on his shoulders as he looked around.

When he spoke, he sounded unsure. “So, um, is there another bed I can take? Or I can lay on the floor if you want, I don’t mind.”

Steve scrunched up his nose. “What? I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. My bed is plenty big, just sleep with me.”

Eddie hesitated, but after it became clear that Steve was serious, made his way to the other side of the bed. “You really don’t mind sleeping next to me? Even knowing what I am?”

“I already told you I don’t. But, I mean, if it’ll be a problem for you, you don’t have to.”

“No, it’s just, I probably won’t sleep. I usually sleep during the day, so I’ll probably sit here until I feel tired. Which, yeah, will probably be when you’re waking up.”

“Oh.” Steve hadn’t considered that. “Right. Well, you can go downstairs and watch tv if you want. I’ve got lots of movies.”

Eddie bit his lip, the unnatural sharpness to his fangs all the more obvious in the lowlight of the bedroom. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll just lay here with you. I think I’ll feel too weird, sitting downstairs by myself.”

Steve wouldn’t admit it out loud, but that was secretly what he’d been hoping Eddie would do. He’d been to his fair share of sleepovers, and while he loved a lot of different aspects of them, his favorite was falling asleep next to another person. The feeling of closeness, of safety, that being close to another person brought… there wasn’t really anything else like it. So, Steve wasted no time in pulling back the blanket on Eddie’s side of the bed and urging him to climb in. Only once they were both laying down, with only a few inches between them, did Steve finally shut off the light.

It was late, way later that Steve normally went to bed on a school night. At least he’d already decided he wouldn’t be going into school tomorrow. He would still wake up early, so that he had enough time to bike down to the butcher and get back before Eddie woke up. Despite all the excitement of having a new vampire friend, Steve felt the unavoidable pull of sleep as he snuggled further into his blankets. Before he could drift off, however, Eddie’s voice came from right beside his ear.

“Steve?”

He blinked an eye open, unable to make out the shape of the other boy, having closed the curtains to protect Eddie from the early morning sun. “Hmm?”

For a few seconds, it was quiet. Steve almost wondered if he’d imagined Eddie’s voice, until the other boy spoke again. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he murmured.

“For helping me. For letting me into your house. For… for just being a good person. I don’t know very many off those.”

Steve hummed, smiling sleepily. “Me either. I guess we’ll just have to be good to each other.”

A puff of breath ghosted across Steve’s cheek, leading him to believe Eddie was even closer than he’d thought. He could probably see Steve perfectly, with his superior vampire vision. The thought should scare him. It didn’t.

“Yeah,” Eddie said quietly. “I guess we will.”

Steve wasn’t sure if he said anything else after that, as he drifted off. But when he dreamed of a creature hiding beneath his bed that night, it wasn’t a nightmare. Because he knew, despite what the movies told him, that this monster wouldn’t hurt him.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve and eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #My writing #this is heavily inspired by the mid 2000s film Let Me In #I posted this once before but hardly any one saw it #so posting it again

[moondirti]

Hello! So not a request but a Dahlia thought: when getting to the boys place she's a little anxious but then she sees the perfectly set up spare room they just happen to coincidently have set up perfectly. And it's so comfortable and peaceful after a shit day and a equally shittier couple of months that reader just kind of releases the damn of tears. Which you know just inforcess that they are doing the right thing by taking her. It's for her own good.

PART 1 • PART 2 • PART 3 tags: simon x f!reader x johnny. alluded abuse (not by ghoap). kidnapping (but is it really kidnapping anymore?) pregnancy.

Their home is nice.

You don't know what you expected. Nothing bad, certainly – one look at their car and you guessed they were comfortable – but whatever approximation you rendered in your head didn’t come close to hitting the mark. Perhaps it was the remnants of your misgivings, then, that convinced you they lived in some squalid house off the side of the freeway. No one is kind enough to offer free room and board without there being some sort of catch. 

But it's nice. Spacious. Secluded, though not to a concerning degree. You pass through a quaint town in order to get to it, and it's only another two miles out, tucked on the outskirts of a neighbouring forest. A two-story chalet, understated and painted dark to deliberately sink into its surroundings. If you had to guess, it was the pick of the one in the mask; the style suits him more than the other one, you think. Elevated inches off the ground. Weathered cedar exterior, softened by time, and a modest front porch with three Adirondack chairs positioned around a bonfire pit. 

“Did someone else live here with you?” You ask, tucking your thumb into your bag strap as you follow them to the front door. The shorter of them throws a look over his shoulder, brows furrowed in an endearing way. “I just ask because– well, you mentioned a spare bedroom, and there are three seats out here. So…” 

“Johnny’s mum stayed with us for a while after his father passed.” The masked one says, unlocking the entrance before pulling it open for you. Your heart twinges uncomfortably in your chest, and you give a sad smile to ‘Johnny’ on your way in.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” 

He appears astounded for a second, gaze flickering back and forth between you and his partner, before settling in place. “Ah, dinnae be. Wis a long time ago.” 

You’re pleased to find that the interior is a lot brighter. Where the outside boasted a dark green paint job, the inside glows in a smattering of honeyed wood and sage tones. All open-plan; you can see the dining table and kitchen from where you step into the living room, brown leather couches serving as the only divisors of the space. You allow your eyes to rove over the walls, the plush carpets underfoot, up and over to where the lofted second-story overlooks the bottom floor. Large picture windows allow ample light to flood in, yet it seems to have the particularly concerning effect of illuminating how… empty it all is. Because apart from a strew of personal belongings – boots by the foyer, a half-filled water bottle on the breakfast bar, a coat thrown over the back of an armchair – there’s nothing to indicate that they actually live here. 

For all you know, they could’ve rented the car and the house to lure you in. 

A pit opens up in your stomach. You pat your pocket for your phone, then turn to where they await your reaction. 

“I didn’t catch your names.” You ask, cringing internally at how straightforward you seem. You have to remind yourself that it’s better to be blunt, to scope this situation out before you’re in too deep. If it takes playing oblivious, then so be it. “I’m embarrassed I don’t know. You’re being so kind, after all.” 

“Johnny. John Mactavish, if ye wanna be proper.” The Scotsman beams, stepping forward to take your bag off your hands, that which you tentatively. The other one merely stays still, peering out on you from above his fabric mask. You shift from foot to foot, waiting. 

Eventually, he blinks. “Ghost.” 

The pit deepens. You breathe through the nausea climbing up your chest. That’s not a name, you’re tempted to say. Tempted to take your bag back over your shoulder and call a cab. But it’s so early in the morning that you know you’ll have a hard time reaching one. And even if you manage, where would you go? Certainly not home. 

The callous echo of your ex’s voice still bounces around in your skull. It’s just a matter of probability. Risk it here with these perfect strangers, who may or may not be ill-intentioned. Or risk it back home, with a man you know only means to do you harm. 

So, you give them your name. 

(Just the first. Though that isn’t without its precautions, either; later, when you finally tuck in, you’ll be sure to send your location and the name Mactavish off to a trusted friend.)

Johnny’s grin widens, something warm and molasses-thick radiating from the lines it carves into his cheeks. It’s so genuine, so welcoming and hospitable, that you have a hard time imagining him as a bad guy. And however Ghost unnerves you, he’s obviously decent enough to have bagged such a positive force of nature. Decent enough to have offered you a ride, and a place to stay when you were so desperately in need of one too. 

It all tallies up in your head, sand on a scale that dips in favour of one side. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, or the pregnancy hormones schooling your common sense into accepting the two, strong men who have demonstrated their willingness to provide – but you’re quickly softening up to the possibility that this is something good without exception. A reward for putting up with so much over the past few months. Some reality where life isn’t looking to beat you down.

If only for the night. 

You blindly follow as Johnny gives you a brief tour. Their bedroom is just to the left of the living space, and he tells you to knock if you need anything at all. 

“Ye'll be staying upstairs, hen. Unless th' stairs ur awfy much fur ye?” 

“No.” You shake your head, stricken by the utter graciousness. “Please. I’m so thankful you’re helping at all. Upstairs is just fine.” 

“Promise?” He demands, eyes wide like a quizzical pup. Ghost sidles up behind him, large hand clasping onto his shoulder, right where his shirt's collar ends to reveal the base of his neck. You stare at that touch, that point of skin-on-skin contact, for what must be too long before you can bring yourself to respond. 

“I- Yeah. I promise.” 

Your room isn't really a room at all, but a loft as large as half the first floor. Three walls and a missing fourth, polished wood railing and opaque curtains offering a degree of separation from the rest of the home. It's all you can do not to flop down on the bed immediately, stripping down to your panties and undershirt before relieving yourself in the attached bathroom.

Despite the modicum of hesitation still planted in your gut – which you doubt will go away until you’re absolutely sure you haven’t made yourself victim to a pair of crazy sexy serial killers – you unwind at record speed. Surprising how easy it is when you aren’t confronted with the burden of your real life. When everything is warm and provided for. When your bed is made with crisp clean sheets, a homemade quilt folded neatly on the edge, and the outside ambience isn’t singing drunks but quiet. 

And of course, once your guard comes down, so too does your strength. A ball of devastation snowballs in your chest. Your sternum burns and your nose grows hot. You hardly remember to clasp a hand around your mouth before you burst into an ugly sob, fat tears slipping off your lash line. Only when a stressed hiccup seizes your frame do you become thankful for your sense; you’d really hate for them to hear you cry after having been so kind. You’re not ungrateful in the slightest, but already you prep yourself for the disappointment of returning home come night. A preemptive grief for the life you can never give yourself.

A chorus of morning birdsong and your own, miserable sniffles lull you to sleep.

if anyone's curious, here's the floorplan i used to imagine ghoap's chalet! (source)

#༄dee answers #ghost x reader x soap #ghostsoap #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader x johnny 'soap' mactavish #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader #johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x reader #ghoap x reader #simon riley #john mactavish #ghost #soap #x female reader #ghoap

[eddies-house]

Lost Like a Kid In a Supermarket - E.M.

Eddie x fem reader

3K Words

Eddie comforts you and does what he can when he sees that you’re doing bad again.

Warnings - depictions of mental illness, mentions of issues with eating, I think that’s it

Masterlist

Feeling like you’re getting bad again because living starts to feel like a chore more than usual.  The simple act of getting yourself something to eat is impossible, every time you open the fridge you’re met with overbearing anxiety that almost has you in tears.  

Fatigue has its claws latched onto you, no plans of loosening its grip anytime soon.  Messes are becoming more prominent, the pile of clothes in the corner growing bigger with every passing day and your patience wearing thin, wishing it would put itself away.  The dirty dishes make themselves at home in the sink and you feel them stare you down with every pass through the kitchen.  Guilt bites at you like a mosquito and yet…

You walk away.

A temper tantrum builds in your mind only for your physical being to remain expressionless, stagnant.  You are a shell of the person you were days ago and you mourn how naive you were then.  It usually comes in waves and you can normally sense when you’re about to go under but not this time.  This time it swallowed you whole without warning.  The pile of unopened mail begs to be opened and the lampshade across the room demands to be tilted back into its upright position.

Houseplants plead with you to water them, to at least open the curtain for some sunlight.  The chair you usually occupy at the dining room table wishes to be pushed in.  Your greasy, unkempt hair desires to be washed and unknotted, teeth only hoping to be brushed.  There is so much to be done and yet…

You continue to walk away.

Your beloved Eddie shows up unannounced for the first time this week, working at the auto shop occupying him all week up until now.  His gaze catches the numerous blankets littering the couch and the half drinken glasses of water scattered on the coffee table, the mess of crumbs on the counter that would otherwise drive you insane and be swept away immediately.  The bags of takeout flooding the trash can, spill over from when you did finally have an appetite.  You’d either overeat or not eat at all.

Big brown eyes turn sad when they land on your curled up figure, practically one with the couch.  Your eyes are puffy and accompanied by dark bags that indicate the amount of sleep you’ve been getting.  Complexion dull and devoid of any glow, you mindlessly stare at the TV playing a rerun of Friends.  You look as good as you feel and you wouldn’t blame him for walking out.

He stays.

Your gaze travels to him standing in the doorway, a gentle smile playing on his lips despite the melancholy scene before him.  A silent way to let you know he’s happy to see you.  All you can offer is the most subtle upturn of your lip that is gone just as soon as it arrives.  Toeing his shoes off near the front door, he strides over and perches himself next to you, everything Eddie invading your senses in the moment, giving you a brief second of relief from the hell you’d been subject to.  The smell of his shampoo lingering from his freshly washed curls fills your nose, the green apple one you’d picked out for him and he continued to buy, his cologne that had hints of cinnamon.  If a look of sympathy crosses his features, you’re too far gone to notice.

A brush of his hand against yours with a soft ‘hi’ makes you turn to look up at him next to you.  He would surely get disgusted by you eventually and leave, right?  Become so fed up with your mental illness that he’d decide to find someone worth giving the time of day to.  Someone who could leave the house without a second thought, someone without so many issues.  There was no way he could love you with all of your baggage, your copious amounts of baggage.  But up until this point so far…

He’s stayed.

Unable to form a coherent word, you try another smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes, barely even reaches your lips.  And he just knows.  It’s obvious he knows, your apartment is in shambles and your appearance is gruesome.  How could anyone not notice how far gone you were at this point?  But unlike just anyone, he also knows how to help, how to pick you up while in such a frail state, and how to manage the demons that plague your every thought.  He understands all too well  just how suffocating it can all become, how isolating the dark corners of your mind can be—his own brain subjecting him to the same torment at times.

And rather than leaving or turning a blind eye like everyone else, he coaxes you up from your divot in the couch, despite the small protests coming from you.  Hand gripping yours while he tugs you up from the couch, he looks at you with such concern, such care behind his gaze—love, unconditional love in spite of the horrific disaster that is you.  “I missed you.” He speaks quietly as you stand in front of him, longing for your spot on the couch.  A gentle upturn of his lips has you cursing yourself for being unable to find the words he deserves, your nonverbal state all you are able to offer with the billions of thoughts swarming your mind and the crushing pressure of life dragging you down.  So you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head against his chest, a ‘thank you’ in the muted language he’s come to learn from you.  Your grip on the back of his shirt is tight, your way to communicate ‘I missed you too’.

A ringed hand brushes against your cheek, knuckles just barely kissing your skin as he ever so slightly pulls back to look at you again.  Big Bambi eyes scan your face, no doubt spotting your sunken eyes and worn out expression even closer up.  Biting his lip in some kind of anticipation while inhaling slowly, he speaks again.  “Have you been eating?” His tone is gentle, treading lightly among the heavy topic, not wanting to cause you more grief over yourself though his eyes are the slightest bit glassy.  Now staring at the floor, you inhale shakily before forcing yourself to at least whisper—that much he deserves.  “Sometimes.” You answer truthfully.  On the nights that you did eat it ended up being half of the actual meal, sometimes a third depending on when it began to make you feel nauseous.  There were a few days in between you’d overeat only to also feel nauseous.  The key factor being you would only eat one meal a day, a snack at most on some days.  His features are sad, brows knit together and frown painted on his lips.  And yet his reply says everything.  “Okay.”

A hushed voice in the dim lighting of your apartment displays nothing but empathy.  Though it’s only one word you hear several.  No judgement.  Only the vow that he’s there for you even when you weren’t there for yourself.  He’s nodding his head as he takes another glance around the room before focusing back on you.  Again, he speaks.  “Okay.”  As if he’s decided on something.  “C’mon.” He whispers, fingers interlocking with yours while leading you to the bathroom as he usually did when things got bad.  Turning the shower on, taking care to turn the knob to the exact temperature you like, he begins lifting your oversized sweatshirt over your head, your chosen wardrobe for the past week.  You know the drill, stripping off your remaining clothes as you hop into the shower but instead of standing under the steaming stream of water you sit with your knees tucked into your chest, water trickling down your skin.  Soon after the warmth of Eddie’s skin is on yours while he tucks himself behind you, his hair dancing over your shoulder while he curls his body around yours, his chest to your back.  “I’ve got you.” He mumbles against your back, lips caressing your skin.  Gentle kisses make their way up your back, over your shoulder, to your jaw, and finally your cheek where he nuzzles his nose into you softly.  Muted ‘I love yous’ scattered along your skin.  

The intimate act of washing your body always made him feel honored, suds lathering under his fingertips and the smell of your citrus body wash consuming the small space.  Washing your hair was a daunting task but not for him, he was patient as he worked his way through it, concentration etched into his features.  Everything you couldn’t do for yourself in the moment, he was glad to take over.  “Turn around for me, baby.” He talks quietly.  You oblige and face him, you crisscrossed in between his legs.  His curls are soaking wet, becoming longer with the amount of water filling them, bangs pushed to either side of his temples for a better view.  He grabs your razor from the little shelf on the wall, smoothing his hand over your leg.  He knows you don’t shave for the appearance but because the feeling of your legs rubbing together when you’re laying down makes you nuts.  He could tell it was getting to that point by the way you itched at your leg in the living room earlier as you always did when you desired a clean shave.  And so he carefully drags the razor along your leg, collecting the little hairs and tapping it off into the drain behind you, repeating until he moves onto the next leg.  The simple act of him assisting in keeping up with your hygiene made you want to cry for many reasons.  The main ones being that he shouldn’t have to fucking do this for you and that you never thought anyone could be this sweet.

While you’re standing in nothing but a towel in the middle of the bathroom, Eddie is gathering some comfortable clothes for you.  And sure enough he comes bearing one of his T-shirts—one of the many that he keeps in one of your drawers along with a pair of his boxers for you to wear.  He even goes as far as to dress you, finishing it off with a peck to your nose.  “Will you have dinner with me?”  He asks genuinely, eyes pleading while his hand finds yours and he presses an endearing kiss to your knuckles.  While you don’t have much of an appetite, the least you can do is try.  For him.  For all he’s done for you without a single complaint, a single hint of hesitance.  Only true and undeniable love, no intent to gain anything other than a smidge of your happiness.  You nod.  “Yes.”

That night he cooks you something safe, something he knows that even if you won’t touch a lot of it right now, it’ll be in the fridge for you to easily heat up with no extra steps.  He even goes as far as to light a candle on the countertop between you two as you sit on the bar stools nibbling at your dinner.  Anything to make the environment a little more serene for you, a striking comparison to how it’s been the past week.  One of your shared favorite shows plays on your laptop on the counter as well, giggles coming from Eddie every now and then while he eats.  A few from you as well every now and then.

His attention shifts to you and it’s evident that you’re poking around at your food after only taking one bite.  You feel his elbow bump yours, the sudden contact surprising you while you quickly turn to look at him.  He eyes your food, then you, then your food again.  A telltale sign that he’s begging for you to eat.  “I’m no chef but I didn’t think I fucked it up that bad.”  He jokes, worry still filling his chocolatey irises.  You mumble a ‘sorry’ while looking down at your plate ashamed.  “Sweetheart, don’t ever be sorry.”  He ducks his head down to catch your gaze.  “I don’t want you to be sorry, okay?  Just want you to eat and be healthy.”  He further explains.  His tone is pleading.  You nod and try again.  For him.  This time you’re able to stomach a few more small bites, leaving some food still on the plate but Eddie is satisfied with the progress.  

Your mind starts going into a frenzy after dinner, switching from being ignorant to the mess that is your apartment, to now being hyper aware of every misplaced item and dirty dish, every crumb left behind on the kitchen counter and every wrinkled up blanket that had been living on the couch.  The way your laptop sits on the countertop now has you cringing, it’s one more item that doesn’t belong.  Eddie notices this as you begin frantically gathering your belongings in your hands and arms, laptop balanced on your forearm,  half filled cups from the coffee table squeezed between your bicep and your chest, a book cradled in your other arm, and a blanket dangling from your other hand.  You’re quickly moving between rooms to put everything back where it belongs.  As you make your way back to the kitchen, the sight of the dirty counter, pots on the stove, dishes in the sink, and the nagging pile of mail make you inhale shakily.  At this, Eddie rushes to your side before you can make this worse for yourself.  “Let me help, you take the counter and I’ll take the dishes.”  He announces, knowing that you would never go to bed without cleaning given the dramatic switch of your mental state.  With a watery sigh and a sniffle, overwhelmed but determined, you nod and quickly start grabbing something to wipe down the counter.  He knows you don’t want to do this right now but you have to.  Otherwise you would drive yourself crazy and have trouble sleeping.  

The kitchen gets cleaned in no time thanks to Eddie’s quickness and your ability to multitask, your determination kicking into gear just before giving out again, most likely sending you into another pit of exhaustion.  You obsess over one last spot on the microwave, the debris not rubbing off as easily while you scrub it forcefully.  Strong hands place themselves on your wrists, Eddie’s tall figure shadowing over you.  Gently, he works the rag out of your hand and playfully bumps his hip against yours, nudging you out of the way.  “Darlin’ this stain has been in the works for weeks.  Trust me, I’ve been trying.”  He smiles, tossing the rag over the sink.  His arms wrap around your waist as he presses a kiss to your crown.  “I’ll buy you a new microwave if it makes you feel better.  Gotta wait til’ the morning though.”  He mumbles, fingers delicately sliding along the small of your back.  Finally finding your voice again, you look up at him.  “No, that’s ridiculous.  Can we just take turns every other night scraping at it?”  You gesture to the microwave, a hint of humor in your voice, finally.  “Maybe if we do it enough it’ll eventually go away?”  You say, squinting your eyes.  A laugh escapes Eddie, his hands squeezing your sides.  “There’s my girl.  Been looking for you.”  His smile is contagious, your mouth widening with him.  “It took a minute but here she is.”  You’re now gesturing to yourself with subtle jazz hands.  “Yeah, well it kinda felt like I was a kid lost in a supermarket there for a second.  You know how scared I get when I’m lost at the supermarket.”  He partially jokes.  He so totally does get scared when he can’t find you in the store, an ongoing problem due to his short attention span.  

You giggle, your head now against his shoulder as he holds you in the dim light of the kitchen.  “You know what?”  You ask, Eddie humming in response, his chest vibrating.  “I felt like a lost kid in the supermarket too this past week.  Except probably times a thousand.”  You admit.  His hand cradles your jaw as he makes you look at him, rings cold but refreshing against you.  “I know, baby.”  He whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead.  A look of sincerity takes over his features.  “Wish I could take it all away.”  A soft kiss is pressed to your lips.  “Fuckin’ supermarkets.”  His playful tone returns as he shakes his head.  “Fuckin’ supermarkets.”  You repeat, unable to contain your smile.

That night as you snuggle up in the sheets, Eddie’s arms around you protectively, you find yourself starting to drift off into a peaceful sleep for the first time in a week.  And before you let yourself drift off, a whisper is heard among the quiet of your room, only the moonlight bathing your surroundings.  “I love you.”  Shifting to face him, the glow of the moon gives you the ability to see his features, soft and endearing as he completely lets his guard down with you.  “I love you, too.”  You whisper back.  His lips find yours, pillowy and plump as he conveys his feelings to you in a slow, sensual kiss.  “I love you most.  You hear me?”  His finger grazes your bottom lip lovingly.  You kiss him again, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.  “I hear you.” You say softly.  “Supermarket boy.”  You tease.  He scoffs, pushing himself up to hover over you.  “Keep crackin’ jokes, baby but I’ll get the last laugh and I’ll make sure if it too.”  He warns.  Your hand finds his cheek, stubble underneath your fingertips, a fond smile on your face.  “Will you?”  You ask with a hint of doubt.  His face is now inches from yours, breath fanning over you.  “Sweetheart, don’t ask questions you can’t handle the answers to.”  He says breathily.  “I won’t.”  You state as if it’s a fact.  He traces your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, your lip dragging down and then popping back into place as he releases it.  “You’re such a fuckin’ brat.” He laughs admiringly.  Within these moments, you're forced to recognize…

Eddie will always stay.

~end~

Masterlist

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut

[minhosbitterriver]

you can burst into flames.

other works by green.

pairing: seungmin x gender neutral reader

content warnings: hurt/comfort, reader has a fear of thunderstorms, reader goes nonverbal

rating: e (for everyone)

summary: seungmin helps you get through a thunderstorm by showering you with tender love and singing to you.

🕯️ volcano — seungmin & han (2 kids’ show)

A myriad of candles lit up the bedroom you’ve shared with your lover for a few years, casting its yellow glow over the sheltered space while the world outside took on the wrath of the thunderous storm that has carried on for the past several hours. Your soft snores were the only sounds heard apart from the violent pattering of the rain against the windows and the occasional boom of thunder, your head rested on Seungmin’s chest as you’d finally slept.

The two of you had just settled on the couch to watch a movie together when it first started raining, a small detail you’d taken note of yet paid no mind to at first. Although as the weather worsened, so did your anxiety. Seungmin was well aware of the person you became whenever the first strike of lightning occurred – almost as though you had been replaced before his very eyes as your muscles tensed and your eyes clouded with fear. He’d tried to comfort you as soon as he knew what would come, though nothing can really prevent you from panicking, and this was a fact that aggrieved him deeply since he would do anything to make you smile once again although this was beyond his power.

When the power went out as a result of the storm, the trembling and whimpering began. Seungmin was not allowed to leave your side for even a second as you gripped the hem of his shirt. And so he gently took your hand and guided you towards the hallway closet where you stored the innumerable amounts of candles you liked buying, and then took you with him towards the kitchen to find a lighter. Throughout the entire process, you could hear him murmuring sweet little nothings as a form of encouragement while moving at the pace you’d set. He sat you on your bed, and immediately began lighting as many candles as he could, creating as much light as he could before he settled beside you. Arms pulling you into his comforting embrace, your back pressed to his chest as he whispered about how brave you were being. You didn’t think so, since you felt a little ridiculous being so afraid of something so silly at your age, but the sincerity in his voice made you feel validated.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered after jumping at a particularly loud crack of thunder. “This is so stupid, and we were having such a nice time before all of this.”

Seungmin pressed a tender kiss to the back of your head, settling his chin on top of your head as his thumb rubbed gentle circles on your shoulder. “Sorry for what? There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

You couldn’t help but pout slightly, sitting up so you could look at him. He merely chuckled at the sight, hand reaching up to push a strand of hair away from your face and you could see the tiny flames from the candles reflected in his eyes. It took everything in you to not melt into his touch, your heart immediately steadying. Love was engraved in every touch, every word and you adored it. You adored him in a way you couldn’t even begin to describe. “I’m sorry you’re dating someone with childish fears.”

His expression suddenly turned serious as he furrowed his brows and frowned up at you. “It’s not childish at all, what are you talking about? I don’t want to hear any self-pitying from you, I want you to know that you’re being very brave, and I love that about you.”

He looked so stern you couldn’t help but smile a little bit, rolling your eyes playfully. But as you glanced at him again, you could see the expectant expression on his face as he waited for you to say the same words he always forced you to say in moments like these. So you sighed, moving around on the bed so that you could rest your head on his chest. However, right as you opened your mouth another thunder seemed to shake the room, which caused you to scream in surprise instead. His arms immediately wrapped themselves around your trembling body, hands squeezing whatever he could grab as a way to make sure you knew he was there with you.

With your eyes squeezed shut, you mumbled over and over again: “I’m being brave right now. The storm can’t touch me. I’m safe with Seungmin. I’m being brave right now. The storm can’t touch me. I’m safe with Seungmin. I’m being so brave right now, and Seungmin is proud of me.”

Seungmin’s lips pressed against your hair once again as he settled into a more comfortable position from underneath you. “I am so, so proud of my baby right now.”

Although the rain had shown signs of slowing down over the past hour, it seemed to intensify now, and your body began trembling once more. Seungmin was at a loss right now, he couldn’t think of anything else to say or do while the two of you rode out the storm. It wasn’t the first time that he’d had to help you through something like this, and he was always so willing to calm your mind and settle your heart each and every time; though it always seemed as though he would run out of things to do or say as the storms carried on. As you balled up his shirt into your shaking fists, he cleared his throat.

“You know,” he began, voice soft yet loud enough to be heard over the noise. “Hannie and Chan have been working on a song together. It made me think of you.”

This piqued your interest, releasing a shuddering breath as you momentarily looked up to let him know you’ve heard him since your voice seemed to have stopped working. He understood immediately as his eyes remained fixated on the dancing flames of the candles he’d placed in front of your bedroom television.

“You know Hannie’s always been good with words.” Seungmin smiled slightly at the thought, his fingers finding their way to your hair as he played with it. “Would you like to hear it?”

Without hesitation, you reach over his lower torso to squeeze his hip. Another crack of thunder was heard, and you jumped.

“I’ll protect you, it’s okay to hurt,” he began, your eyes shutting as his melodic voice rang through the air. “I’ll embrace the wounds you shed. To me, you’re already a sin…”

A soft smile tugged on your lips, your heart and breathing steadied at last, your muscles relaxing. Seungmin could feel the weight of your body change almost immediately as he continued to sing, and his heart soared at the realization of the effect he had on you. “...You were so warm when you hugged me tight. I guess I teared up for a moment, because it was the first time…”

Anything outside of this embrace seemed to fade away at your lover’s soulful singing, the warmth of his body and his fingertips that traced swirly figures on your skin bringing a sense of peace you didn’t expect. You sighed in content.

“...You can burst into flames, you can wound me next to you if you like, I can be anything…”

As the first of your snores were heard, Seungmin finally relaxed completely. You’ve endured another stormy night, and his own heart warmed at the sight of your sleeping figure. He didn’t stop singing, though, determined to finish the song at this point – the song that had reminded him of you the first time he read the lyrics, the song he’d unintentionally associated with you and he wasn’t the least bit sorry about it.

“...you are my volcano.”

word count: 1.2k 🕯️ posted: 12 • 02 • 2023

🪲 TAGLIST !

# @grandpafelixx

#seungmin #kim seungmin #skz seungmin #straykids #stray kids #stray kids seungmin #seungmin fanfic #comfort #hurt #comfort/hurt #seungmin x reader #green’s fanfic

[knocktherock]

Arrogant asshole part 5

A/n: finally. God I’m so sorry this took so long.

Part one part two part three part four

Warnings: sex, oral sex (female receiving), Voyeurism, someone watching someone else having sex

Summary of the series: Joel has been acting like you don’t exist ever since you’ve slept with him a couple of months ago, which pisses you off. But this time you’ll make sure he remembers you

————————————

You got up the next morning in a great mood. The warm rays of the sun streamed through your windows, filling you with a sense of anticipation for the day ahead. Little did you know that today held unexpected surprises.

You jumped down your porch steps and headed to get some breakfast at the hall. The hall was already filled with people talking and munching on their food.

As you searched for someone to share your breakfast with, your eyes landed on Tommy, who was sitting alone with his thoughts, prompting you to go and keep him company.

„Hello there“ you smiled as you lowered down on the seat across from him.

„Good morning.“ He smiled back „how’d you sleep last night?“ he winked with a filthy grin on his face.

„I slept well, in my own bed and alone.“ you rolled your eyes at his implication earning a huff from him.

The two of you talked about the latest patrols and Tommy mentioned that Joel had taken his gun home with him, which he needed for his nightly patrol.

Even though you couldn’t stand Joel, you knew that Tommy had a tight schedule, so you offered to get it from Joel.

You had never been to Joels house, you had seen it through the windows, the wooden kitchen and the pale walls but that was pretty much it. Sometimes, when he had his lights on in his bedroom at night, you could see his shadow dancing on the light green walls.

You reached his over snowed porch steps, of course he did not care to shovel them free.

You didn't care to knock, you didn't respect this man enough to knock and you were sure he would block your way and not let you in if you did.

Little did you know the unexpected and unsettling sight that awaited you on the other side of the door; otherwise, you would have never reached for the handle.

With the door ajar, the air carried a familiar and intoxicating sound, soft, sweet moans that he had once effortlessly drew from you. At first glance you saw Joels couch facing the door, then what was happening on top of it.

His dark locks in between a strangers thighs, her fingers running through them. He was pushing her hips down with his big hands while a groan escaped his lips against her skin. His tongue seemed to play a blissful game on her pussy, because her face was filled with pleasure, eyes shut tightly. But the creaky door had announced your presence.

Her eyes shot towards you after a second and she tugs him up by his hair „Oh god Joel“ she said but it was clear to him this wasn’t a call of ecstasy.

His head snapped towards you.

Your head snapped away.

You turned quickly on your heel. Without a word, you hastily made your way out the door and onto the porch, taking long strides. However, the snow and ice on the steps had one final humiliation in store for you - you slipped and stumbled.

If your face wasn't already red, it was glowing like a fiery furnace by now.

A toxic cocktail of embarrassment, anger, shock, and an array of negative emotions surged through your veins, spreading its poison to every corner of your being.

Thankfully, your house stood just a few paces from his, offering you refuge from the avalanche of emotions. As you forcefully closed the door, it became an impenetrable fortress, guarding your fragile state from the chaos that awaited beyond.

Inhaling deeply, it felt like the oxygen had been yanked away from your grasp, leaving you disoriented and questioning the reason behind your unusual reaction. If it had been anyone else but Joel you would’ve laughed at the situation. But all you could feel was embarrassed and your heart felt empty, like a barren field, stripped of all the seeds of hope and connection.

You had to sit down for a moment, the gun you were supposed to pick up was far from your mind by now.

Time seemed to slow down as you sat there, minutes elongating into an eternity, your gaze locked on the hallway, half-expecting Joel to walk through the door to talk to you about what had just happened.

But you knew it wouldn’t happen, he had never really talked to you unless it was while he was pressed against your body, his intention to get your pussy dripping for him.

You needed to get him out of your head, he was like a magnet, irresistibly attracting and monopolizing every single one of your thoughts.

Consumed by a desire for revenge, you longed for him to experience the same surge of jealousy coursing through his veins that was currently overwhelming you.

Did he Actually just see you as a piece of meat? Why did you ever think that he might like you? You had hoped he was playing a game of hard to get, but it seemed that he was actually disinterested in you.

Was your mind just playing tricks on you or had you seen him smirk while he spotted you in the doorway?

How did this man have you in such a chokehold. It’s not like you ever talked. You didn't know his favorite color, If a cold man like him even had one, you didn't know his middle name, you didn’t know what his life was like before this. You knew nothing about this man but you were crushing so hard on him anyway. Not that you’d ever admit this crush to him or even yourself.

You wanted him around you, you subconsciously looked for him in the streets and the cafeteria.

You knew he could be nice, he was to Ellie. They had a connection that was obvious to everyone, and you envied it. You were jealous of a goddamn fourteen year old.

Longing for a bond with him, you desired his genuine concern, his laughter resonating with your jokes, and his unwavering support to hold you close during times of vulnerability.

You were pulled from your thoughts when the street lights outside flickered on. Night was settling into Jackson and today it felt even darker than usual.

Startled by a knock on your door, your foggy thoughts cleared momentarily as you made your way to the hallway, a mixture of anticipation and apprehension swirling within, wondering if it was Joel or someone else.

It wasn’t Joel. Of course.

You were met with James when the door opened.

„did you keep my jacket last night?“ he smiled at you warmly.

„No I gave it back to you at the door.“ You couldn’t bring yourself to a genuine smile, but you tried to.

And then an idea sparked in your mind as you looked at the man in front of you. You knew he liked you and you wouldn’t feel bad to use that to your benefit.

„do you wanna come inside?“ You asked him sweetly, your voice now a few pitches higher than seconds ago.

Giving a nod, he entered the room, his boots shedding snow as he kicked them off, creating a small flurry on the floor.

A visible startle flickered across his face as you gently took his hand, guiding him into your living room. His surprise grew when you pressed your lips against his, leaving him both stunned and pleasantly shocked.

His hands weren't sure where to touch you, like hesitant dancers seeking the perfect rhythm. You took lead, touching his jaw lightly as you deepened the kiss. You pulled him on top while you lowered yourself onto the couch.

You knew that the couch was in perfect sight of Joels bedroom window and you knew his schedule. He would be up there in a few minutes, unless he was still fucking that girl downstairs.

James kissed your neck but it didn't have much of an effect on you. You were missing Joels stubble rubbing into your skin, a slightly burning sensation that turned you on so much. His touch was too soft, too unsure.

As his hands kept roaming over your body, the light in Joels bedroom turned on. You could see his familiar figure walking around the room from the corner of your eye.

You tried to focus on the man on top of you, you tried to respond to his touch, but when you saw Joel freeze right in front of his window, you knew it was time to start the show.

Images of earlier flooded your memory, Joels head between her thighs, his hands placed exactly where they used to touch you, her moans just as sweet as yours, it made you furious. You kissed James hard, tongues dancing together, your fingers entwined in his hair, mirroring the grip the stranger had on Joel's earlier.

You couldn’t deny the wetness between your thighs but you were very sure it wasn’t caused by the man above you. The thought of Joel watching this, another man touching you, making you squirm beneath his touch, was what got you soaked.

You reached between the mans legs and slowly started to rub his clothed dick. It made him breath in sharply.

You checked if Joel had moved, but his body remained frozen in place like a statue. His shadow loomed in the window above, devoid of any discernible features.

You the hoped to provoke him, to stir his emotions. You yearned for the spectacle in front of him to ignite jealousy within him, causing him to question the depth of your "relationship."

James unzipped your jeans and slowly pushed his hand inside, as he played with your pussy, you acted like it was the best sensation you had ever felt. You arched your back, your lips forming a silent o as he started kissing your neck again.

You decided to remove his shirt, revealing a chiseled, toned physique that gleamed in the light. If this hadn’t been a revenge plot, you might’ve taken more time to explore his body.

Suddenly, he retracted his hands from your jeans, flipped you onto your stomach and pushed his still clothed crotch into your ass. This had been the first move you actually enjoyed, it was so similar to Joel handling you around the way you liked it.

He groaned, clearly liking the whole thing despite your minimal effort.

You heard his belt buckle behind you, a sound you loved to hear from Joel and without a single warning, he shoved himself inside of you.

He took your yelp of surprise as a sound of pleasure, pulled out all the way just to push into you again. You pressed your cheek into the cushion of your couch and glanced up at Joel.

But the sight above made you shiver, you couldn’t tell if Joel right hand was behind his back or… in the front of his pants.

You couldn’t tell due to the lighting and him only being a shadow. The dark lines etching his arms seemed to dissolve into the black darkness that cloaked his torso.

But for some reason you hoped it was deep in his pants. stroking himself to the sight of you being fucked into the couch, wishing it was him pumping into you.

You decided to close your eyes and imagine Joels thick thighs slapping into yours, his calloused hands running along your curves, his thick cock stretching you out. Your fantasy made you moan and perhaps even enjoy what was going on. You needed Joel, you wanted to smell his cologne and feel his fingers dig into your sides.

Joels groans were rougher than the ones touching your ears from behind you. You imagined him making those angelic noises up in that window right now, watching your beautiful figure rock against the couch.

„god you’re so hot.“ James grunted out behind you and for a second you could’ve sworn to have heard that in Joels gruff voice.

You tried to cum, you really did. But he was done way to quick to make it happen.

After some mediocre thrusts, grunts, slight slaps to your ass, his pumps became inconsistent until he moaned a sweet tone into your ear, came inside you and fell onto your back like a sloppy fish stranded on shore.

He kissed below your ear and whispered: „Did you come?“

you could hear the smile in his voice, he had really enjoyed this for some reason.

Joel would’ve never needed to ask such question. He would never even think about it, he was well aware of the way you’d clench around him when you came, how you scratched his back or fisted his flannel.

„Yeah, yeah“ the poisoned lie slipped off your tongue before you could think about it.

„Good“ he said as he lifted himself off your body and sat up, pulling his pants back up his legs.

„Do you want me to stay?“ he asked but you weren’t paying attention, you rolled onto your back and glanced back up to Joels window, but his figure had vanished, possibly to prevent himself from coming across as a creepy observer to your date.

„Y/n?“ James asked after you hadn’t answered.

„Um no thats not my kind of thing, sorry.“ you lied again. If Joel had asked you that you would’ve died from excitement, melted into the couch below you.

James simply nodded and slipped out your front door. You pulled up your own pants, your shirt had never left your body.

#pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x you #tlou #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut #mean joel miller

[olive-gardens-breadstick]

part 3 of my hope!hob Pandora's box au

part 1 part 2

word count: 1317

Once they got through the door of his apartment, Morpheus hung up his keys, sat the various bags by the door and started towards the kitchen. "I'm gonna make us some tea, do you have a preference?"

"what do you have?" hope asked heading to the living room to look at all the things morpheus had strewn around in there, morpheus noted the way he held every item as if they were the most important and delicate things in the world with wonder on his face, as if he could see something morpheus, the owner of said items, could pointedly NOT see. he's been staring too long. open the cabinet, this is ridiculous, he is far beyond your comprehension "uh, I’ve got black, green, chamomile, raspberry, jasmine, lavender, lemon, hibiscus, and rose" saying the list outloud made morpheus feel like he had to much until he heard hope scurrying towards the kitchen ending with him bracing himself on the door frame with a (very bright) look of joy on his face.

"They made tea out of roses?" He said it so softly and full of awe, as if the very thought of such a thing existing put the world in a new light, and technically it did, there was a delicate glow radiating off of hope, drenching his apartment in warm light that he could almost feel his possessions absorbing. looking back at hope, and subsequently in his eyes, morpheus could see... something, he wasn't sure what but there was definitely something there.

"yes, they did" he said still holding the cabinet open and nodding slowly "would you like some?" hope smiled and nodded his head quickly "would like honey and sugar in it?" somehow hope got even brighter as he nodded.

Hob watched morpheus as he made tea, he noted how every move he made was graceful and precise, he made it seem like this kitchen was a stage, and with that ruby around his neck it seemed like he was in costume. the ruby was large, larger than any jewels he had seen people on the street wearing while they were out, it was also set differently than them too, older maybe?

"Where'd you get that ruby?" he asked walking a little closer

"hm?" looking up from the cup of tea and turning to him "oh, my husband gave it to me before we got married." he said handing hope the tea.

"you're married?" hob could feel his light dimming.

"Oh no, that was a very very long time ago. He's been dead a long time" he sighed as he walked back to the kitchen to make his own cup of tea.

"do you miss him?" had he been human hob would’ve said that the words caught in his throat and tore it up and he didn't know why. but he's not human so he won't say that.

"no, not really" he said without looking up from his cup "i didn't really want to marry him in the first place"

"Then why'd you marry him?" his not-a-throat is fine now.

"my parents wanted me to, and i didn't really have anything else going on so..." the nonchalance and the dismissive hand wave he had when he said this baffled hope, it was as if he was talking about going to the market with someone who was already planning to go to the market, not MARRYING SOMEONE.

"could you tell me about him?" Hope asked, sipping his tea and sitting down on the couch.

"you really want to hear about that?" he asked, sitting down on an armchair "it's really not that interesting."

"Well you still need to tell me a story, you haven't told me one yet!" he said eagerly, leaning forward. "you don't have to talk about just him, you can tell me about your family, your village, how you met my sister? because how DID you meet her? let me hear about your life before you tell me about everyone else's."

"al-alright um," he said shifting in his seat "well, let's start with my family i suppose"

Morpheus talked about his village, and how everyone knew everyone, the feuds, the loves, the market and the woman who sold the best oranges and how she saved a few just for him every week. about the old story teller in the square that everyone thought was crazy and the stories he'd heard from him. how his mother made fish at the solstices. how he didnt know the people of his village very well, just all their problems that came up in the gossip, which he also talked about. He talked about how they spoke of him, calling him 'hopeless' and the distance they kept from him.

He talked of how he met his husband. He talked of their wedding, about life living in his husband's kastro and how he felt like he was just there to be a pretty face to walk the halls. He talked of the kastro staff and their gossip, about the night he met death. how his life went after that, the worship in the beginning (which he was not fond of), the way they hunted him eventually. he talked of each life and each name he lived their virtues and vices and pointed to the various items around the room while he did so, mere scraps to hold entire lives in his hands.

By the time he stopped talking, the sun had set and the moon was high. Hope's tea was gone and morpheus's tea was cold and long forgotten in the cup he held.

“ah” he sighed “looks like i’ve kept you nearly long enough to see apollo again,” he placed his cup on the side table “suppose that will have to do for now, i’ve got to be getting ready for work.” he said as he started getting up.

it was a strange thing, to see hope scurry, this time at least, earlier, well yesterday really, the scurry held wonder and well, hope, this scurry however, was different it was more, oh what’s the word? that’s the problem with being a writer (and knowing far more languages than any man should really need to but that is beside the point) there’s to many words in your head, they get all mixed up. “can’t i come with you? i love to see what you teach!” morpheus contemplated it for a moment ‘it would help him underst- Hazel Tarcey has class today and i'd never hear the end of it' morpheus sucked in a breath "perhaps another time, i have to... conduct a mid... semester... check in." he desperately (was that the word he was looking for?) hopes that was at all convincing "i'd hate to have my students fall behind." hes smiles, around 700 a.d. he figured out that if he smiled after a lie people seemed to believe him, he wasn't sure why. He ALSO learned to use it sparingly around the 1500s. it was rather bothersome being hanged, always left a large bruise on his neck (for weeks!) and he'd always have to play dead until nightfall.

"oh..! alright. well..." hope looked down at his feet then the rest of the room "is there... something i could..." Hope looked at him briefly then looked away again "never mind!" Hope laughed, morpheus tilted his head. "Just, light the candle when you've got another story for me!" Hope was smiling, but Morpheus wasn't sure it was really, he'd alway had trouble with that. "Okay, well... i'll see y, i'll... call? no that's not it... flame? absolutely not. I'll light the candle, see you later." with a hand wave he was off to his room, words the damned things.

Hob stood alone in the room. He didn't want to leave. "okay.. bye" he waved to no one. and dissipated as a sun beam from the sunrise filled the room.

TAG LIST: (its been so long im sorry)

@apples-no-oranges

@ehzrii-aerii

@s0ul4rsblog

#dc #dc comcis #the sandman 2022 #the sandman au #the sandman comics #hope au #hope!hob #hope!hob au #hope of the endless #hob x morpheus #hob x dream #hope hob gadling #hob gadling #lord morpheus #professor dream #professor morpheus #dreamling fic #dream the endless #dreamling #hope x dream #hope x morpheus #dream of the endless

[myheroacademiaweeb]

Fiery Spark

Chapter 1- The Meeting

Dabi x Female Reader 

2K WORDS 

Warning: MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY Fluff, alcohol, slight sex talk(?), slight talk about Dom/sub(funishment) 

Summary: Youre a new member to the LOV brought in by Giran. One guy who you’ve seen on tv before due to his crimes seems to have you in his sights for some reason but before you can figure anything out it’s almost time for your first mission with the LOV. 

“Giran?” You ask walking down the hallway. 

“What is it?” He questioned looking back behind him at you. 

“Surely, they can't use someone like me. I mean I’m a total klutz for one, second shouldn’t they already have someone who can heal them?” your heart pounding nervous. 

Giran smirks and chuckles seeing you are nervous about meeting the League. Giran wrapped an arm around you and opened the door to a bar area. The lighting was a dim yellow light. Standing before you were 7 people. All 7 of the people you recognized, Toga Himiko, Twice, Dabi, Shigaraki, Mr. Compass, Spinner, and Kurogiri.  Each of them had their own reputation and crimes they have done to become wanted criminals and villains. Each one has their own quirks. Realizing there was no one else there in the group made you think Giran really was telling the truth about them not having someone with a healer quirk. Dabi choked on his glass of whiskey he was sipping the instant he looked over his glass at you. You were dressed in a black skirt, a teal tank top, knee-high socks, fishnets and converse. He tried to regain his composure and look away.  

“Shigaraki!” Giran exclaimed, “I got you someone new to join the League.” 

“Oh?” Shigaraki turned towards you and Giran, “What can you do dear to help out the league?” 

Giran looked at you and patted your shoulder, “Go on.” 

Stepping from behind Giran you held up your hands, your right hand engulfed in a black flame and the left glowing a seafoam green. “Black flame and healing touch. But I've honed my abilities to more than just healing with my left hand. I can also destroy a person's nervous system and cells.” 

Shigaraki smiled evilly, “a healing quirk, very nice Giran. A well needed person for sure. What’s your resolve dear?” 

You growled clenching the flame engulfed hand to a fist, “I plan on destroying the Heros that allowed my parents to go fight by themselves with no back resulting in them being killed.  

“Excellent. I think you will make a great asset to the League.” Shigaraki looked at Giran and nodded, his sign that he could leave now. 

Shigaraki threw you a set of keys to an apartment in the warehouse. You were amazed at how much remodeling had gone into this run-down-looking warehouse on the outside. It seemed like everyone had their own apartments inside it.  

“Make yourself at home.” Shigaraki smiled 

“Thanks.” 

“Dabi, Shes got the apartment beside you, why don’t you show her where it's at.” Shigaraki turned to him. 

Dabi’s cerulean eyes looked over the glass at him then at you. He took his last swallow and walked up to you. Your heart fluttered at his presence. His tall frame towered over as you. He had a very intimidating demeanor about him. You could feel his body heat radiating off him when he got close to you. The smell of smoke and cedar washed over you and you noticed you relaxed near him for some reason.  

“Come on doll.” He looked down at you tapping your shoulder to move. 

You followed behind him down the hallway a few feet away. There was just silence during the walk down the hallway. Dabi stopped in front of a door, “This will be yours, mine is just right next door. If you need me just knock on my door.” He turned and headed towards his apartment. 

You unlocked your door and walked in to your apartment, taking back by the details and design in the apartment. For a villain Shigaraki has an eye for interior design. The kitchen had white marble counters with white cabinets. Dark gray hardwood went thru out the whole apartment. The living room had a black couch and black coffee table set with end tables. A black entertainment center sat in the middle of the living room with a huge tv on it. The bedroom had queen sized bed in it, and a black bedframe with headboard and foot board, black night stands on either side. You laid across the bed relaxing before dozing off for the night. 

The weeks passed, missions successful, and you were slowly starting to feel like a part of the league. You and Toga were getting close as well as you and Twice. They would come and hang out in your apartment at night.  Eventually everyone was coming to your apartment to hang out after missions, watch tv, and eat together meals you’ve made for everyone. Only two did not show up that night, Dabi and Shigaraki. Shigaraki probably got caught up with the next mission’s details, as for Dabi he had yet to come over. You felt as if maybe you had said or did something that made him mad and want to avoid you, but that was about to change. After everyone ate a hot meal, they all went to their own apartments to get some rest. You stood at the kitchen island drinking straight from your bottle of crown. Once it finally hit you, you went to change into a silk blue tank top and black boy short panties and laid down for the night. 

The next morning you stirred in your bed to find your cat you had gone and brought back after getting your apartment with the League was laying with you. You were confused on how he got in there, you were sure you had shut your door. Getting up you grabbed your water glass and opened the door to your bedroom. Stopping in your tracks, “Dabi!” you yelled dropping the glass and it shattered on the floor. Dabi turned and looked at you, “Well good morning doll.” You stood there stunned, “how did you...”  

“Your door was cracked opened and that little guy was sitting there meowing like crazy. I walked in and didn’t see you and saw his bowl was empty so I filled it up.’ 

“Shit, I forgot to feed him last night, I'm sorry Hoshi.” you looked at him in your arms. 

“hey don’t move I'll get the glass up.” 

Dabi walked around the island causing your breath to stop. He was dressed in gray sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt. He grabbed your broom from the closet and started sweeping up around you. Once he got all the glass up, he grabbed Hoshi and sat him in his bed beside the couch. Walking back around the island he looked at you, “come sit down I made you breakfast.” 

“What?” You looked at him puzzled, did this man really just say he made you breakfast. Sitting down at the island he sat a plate of French toast in front of you. It was covered in strawberries, syrup, and butter. “You cook?” You giggled a little, mouthwatering. “This looks and smells amazing. Thanks, but you didn’t have to do that.”  

“You were asleep when I came by to talk about our next mission and I saw your kitchen was a mess so I cleaned it and decided to make you something to eat. You had everything to make that from scratch.” 

“Well thank you.” you smiled. No one has ever done anything like this for you. You were used to doing everything on your own. You never stayed with anyone longer than six months either, mostly one night stands to just avoid being hurt by anyone.  

Dabi looked over his shoulder and smiled at you while he was washing up the few dishes, he got dirty while making both of you breakfast. You looked at his plate that has yet to be touched. 

“Dabi, I got that, eat before it gets cold.” 

“it's fine doll. I made the mess I will clean it up.” 

“Whatever.” you huff and go back to eating  

Before you realized Dabi was stretched across the island with your chin in between his index finger and thumb tilting it to look up at him. He had a grin across his lips and chuckled. 

“Better watch the little smart-ass remarks. Might get you hurt one day.” 

Your heart was pounding out of your chest now and could feel it under his fingers. He was never this close to you let alone would you have ever though this tall, dark haired, blue eyed, scarred man would have made you breakfast.  You scuff “yeah right”. You could see Dabi's shoulder twitch at your remark and smile. He pulled you closer to him as he slid your plate to the side so your hair wouldn’t get syrup in it. He was inches from your face, staring into his eyes it felt like your heart sank to your stomach. Your face was now turning red slightly. He chuckled slowly inching his way to you stopping right before his lips were touching yours. 

“Oh, doll you just have no idea. Keep on and I may have to fix it myself before anyone else can get ahold of you.” he smiled pressing his lips against yours causing your breath to choke. It was soft and tender. He let go of your chin causing you to sit back in your bar stool. He slid your plate back to you and winked before grabbing his own plate and started to eat. You looked down at the plate for a minute to comprehend what just happened blushing in the process and then continued to eat. There was a fire, a spark, that had just ignited that you had to chase after now. He stayed behind the bar due to the fact of the heat between the kiss causing him to get aroused.  

After breakfast, Dabi grabs your plate to turn around and wash them and set them in your drying rack beside the sink. Walking into your room and shutting the door behind you. You leaned against the door trying to regain composure from Dabi kissing you. What the hell had just happened. Constant thoughts ran thru your head on what made him do that. Sliding down to the floor you looked over in your closet where your hero costume was sitting. Finally getting up you walked over and changed. The costume was pitch black with hints of seafoam green details such as bracers up your arms and over your legs up to your knees that were connected to your boots. Black skin tight leggings were under the boots and under a seafoam green top. The colors were to match the colors of your quirks. Opening the door to your room, meeting eyes with Dabi, he looked at you up and down choking on his glass of water causing water to come up his nose. You giggled at him and smiled. 

“God damn y/n”   

“What? Like it? Or is it too much?” you asked, looking over your outfit almost in a panic. 

“No, hell no. It's perfect. It matches you perfectly.” 

You blushed at his response smiling. You sat on the couch watching tv, a broadcast about the league was on about their last mission at UA High. Dabi came up behind you and leaned down watching it as well. Looking over your shoulder seeing Dabi behind you causing your heart to skip. You felt his hand run up the back your head and play in your hair resulting in you leaning into his hand with little effort. He made you feel at peace somehow. You couldn’t figure out what it was about this man that kept you on edge yet calm at the same time in his presence.  

“5 o’clock were all heading out for our next mission. Shigaraki is expecting you to be with us since it will be your first official mission, so don’t disappoint doll.” his hand leaving your head causing a whimper come out.  

“Right got it.” you replied and slumped down into the couch as Dabi walked out the door shutting it behind him.  

That night was the start of your first mission with the League of Villains and the start of some confusing feelings in your gut with Dabi... 

To Be Continued in part 2!! 

#dabi smut #dabi x reader #mha dabi #touya todoroki #my hero academia

[trulybetty]

Gold Rush | Chapter Three

Pairing: Joel x OFC, OFC x OMC Warnings: Entering into mature content soon, a small mention of death and child loss, as always heavy with angst. Summary: Old lovers Joel and Charlotte find themselves unexpectedly reunited in the community of Jackson. Struggling to navigate the complexities of their shared history and the harsh realities of their new lives, the pair find themselves drawn to one another once again. AO3: Link

Chapter 3

The breath of cold air chased Charlotte into her house, the icy chill of the wind at her neck as she pushed the door closed behind her. Her eyes wide as her breath came in shallow gasps as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. Her hand lingered on the doorknob, her grip tight as if she expected it to turn at any moment. She turned to lean back against the wooden door, she held her breath and closed her eyes. It was if she was bracing for a knock at the door that would disrupt the silence.

A knock that would belong to Joel.

But the knock never came. 

Charlotte slowly released her grip on the doorknob and flipped the lock. Opening her eyes her gaze fell on the dimly lit interior of the house. She felt her heart squeeze in her chest at the sight of the familiar, comforting mess - the small heap of blankets on the couch, the cup of half-drunk tea on the coffee table, the open book facedown to keep its place. It was home, even with its lack of warmth.

A soft cough broke the silence and jolted Charlotte out of her thoughts, she looked up to see Marcus stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his tall broad frame filled the space. Basked in the glow of the kitchen light, it highlighted the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes as the beginnings of a smile tugged at his lips. 

"I wondered when you would come home," he said, his voice was deep, carrying a hint of humour that belied the concern in his eyes. His voice a deep rumble that echoed in the small hallway. 

Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, solid and dependable, causing a surge of warmth to spread through her. Beneath his rough exterior, he was kind and caring, his protective instinct extending towards those he cared about. This was a man who had seen the horrors of the world, both man-made and nature-inflicted, and yet, he had not let it harden him completely. 

Marcus looked to her empty hands and gave her a quizzical look, "What happened to the firewood?"

Charlotte groaned, she had been out collecting logs for the fire from the shared stockpile, Joel's appearance had caused her to forget why she had left the house all together.

"I ran into someone asking about council stuff," she swallowed hard, the truth pushed down - she didn't want to have a conversation about Joel with Marcus right now. He'd already had questions when word of her reunion with Joel in the square had reached him. Nothing staying quiet in Jackson for long. "I think we have enough for tonight." She forced a smile, meeting his gaze with quiet gratitude.

Marcus' face softened, understanding reflecting in his eyes. He walked over to her, his steps careful and measured, he placed a comforting kiss on her forehead, his hand briefly resting on her shoulder, "You hungry?"

She forced a smile, "I am."

---

Later, dinner long over the pair laid on the beaten green couch of Charlotte's living room. She ran her hand over Marcus' hair, a salt and pepper dusting of tight curls, as he read his book, his head in lap and her own book abandoned. He made jokes about the presence of the grey, admitting pre-outbreak he could be considered vein. Charlotte thought it only enhanced his attractiveness.

While Marcus's appearance held a magnetism that drew people to him, it was his quiet selfless demeanor that truly captured their hearts. He exuded kindness and compassion, always ready to lend a helping hand. His voice, deep and resonant, carried a soothing quality, instilling a sense of calm in those around him. Though she would never admit it, he reminded her of Joel, her Joel, the one before the outbreak.

Marcus had been a steady presence amidst the uncertainty in her early years in Jackson, he had been kind and understanding, never pressing for anything more than she was willing to give. Over time, their companionship had deepened into mutual respect and affection.

Their arrangement was an open secret in Jackson. They were both independent adults, neither of them seeking anything more than friendship. Taking pleasure in each other's presence without pressuring any official commitment, they held a mutual respect and understanding for one another. Although there were hints of attraction, neither of them wanted to carry the emotional risks that went with committing to a relationship. 

She watched him turn the page of his book, the sleeves of his tattered denim shirt rolled up. Scattered across his skin were numerous scars, a testament to his past as a Marine. One particularly visible one snaked up his right forearm, the result of a mortar blast he'd shared the first night they'd spent together. He'd told her of his life before the outbreak, a recent discharge due to his injuries and thrown into another war when the military pulled him back in to lock down Seattle, the city bore and raised him.

The military pulled everyone they could back into their ranks, discharged as a high ranking First Sergeant, the government, desperate for manpower and experience, reinstated him overnight. Along with his reinstatement came an equally high-ranking position when FEDRA was formed. 

Marcus had clung to the familiarity of the military procedures, holding onto the stringent routines and regulations. The rigid structure provided a sense of normalcy, a distraction from the fact the outbreak had claimed his wife. The military, with its call to duty and unwavering discipline, offered an escape from his grief. It allowed him to shut away his emotions, to focus on survival and duty, and for a time, it worked.

However, as the months turned into years, the reality of FEDRA's operations began to weigh on him. He witnessed the brutality inflicted in the name of control and order. He watched as fear and power manipulated individuals into monsters worse than those outside the quarantine zone.

The world had changed, and he couldn't be part of the system that was further propagating its downfall. So he headed East, down through Oregon, over Idaho and into Wyoming where he stumbled across the beginnings of the Jackson commune. Alongside a number of others, including Maria, Marcus dedicated himself to Jackson, helping to build and protect the community. 

Marcus bookmarked his page and closed the worn-out paperback. The comforting rhythm of Charlotte's fingers through his hair had ceased. He tilted his head back slightly, trying to catch her gaze. "You okay up there?" he asked, his voice breaking the stillness of the room.

"Hm?" came the distant response.

Marcus sat up and turned to face Charlotte, in the shadow of the lamp, the light not quite reaching across her face he could see the tiredness in her eyes. Her dark hair, usually loose, was messily gathered atop her head. Her gaze was far away, lost somewhere in the wilderness of her thoughts. She chewed absently on her lip, a habit she fell into when she was deep in thought or worried. Seeing her like this, withdrawn and distant, Marcus felt a pang of concern.

"Has this got something to do with Tommy's brother showing up this morning?" The mention of Joel caused her to flinch, she tried to play it off but her eyes gave her away. "Do you know why he's here?"

Up until yesterday, her concerns were relatively simple. The recent upheaval over patrol schedules had ruffled the feathers of Jackson's council, stirring up protests among the community. It was the sort of administrative drama she could easily manage. Now the very perplexing situation of running into your ex in a post-apocalyptic world? 

"No clue," she said forcing a smile, "no clue at all."

---

Marcus had returned to his own place the previous night, he'd sensed that Charlotte needed some space. His quiet concern, while well-intentioned, felt suffocating in her current state. Though he respected her evasion on the conversation of Tommy's brother, she'd felt his silent worry inescapable. It was an added layer of emotional weight she simply couldn't carry.

As sleep evaded her that night, Charlotte decided to embrace the dawn and get a head start. She tightened the scarf around her neck, bracing herself for the early morning winter chill, before shrugging on her trusty green plaid shacket.

Opening her front door to head out, the last person she expected to see was Tommy, his hand poised to knock. While his visits weren't uncommon - their bond in Jackson had only deepened since Boston - his sudden appearance this morning, so soon after Joel's return, had her guard up.

"Tommy," she greeted, her hand lingering on the door handle. "I was just heading out to the stables."

"I just got back from there," he replied, his voice steady. "The horses are all set for the morning."

"Oh. Okay." Her reply was short, her thoughts churning.

"Mind if I come in?" Tommy's question hung in the morning air.

In the pale morning light, the usual comforting hum of Charlotte's kitchen felt heavy and solemn. Tommy sat at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of coffee before him, untouched. He had just seen Joel and Ellie off, their departure shrouded in the misty dawn. Now, he was tasked with the unfortunate duty of breaking the news to Charlotte, who was bustling about the kitchen with an unusual urgency.

Tommy watched her move around the room, her movements were too abrupt, the clatter of dishes louder than necessary. It was her way of keeping busy and not to focus on what news Tommy was about to deliver. They had known each other for twenty-five years, and despite her best efforts to hide her emotions, Tommy could read her like an open book.

Things hadn't always been this way. When Tommy first returned from the military and started working with Joel in his one-man contracting business, he had been a self-absorbed, brooding mess. He had seen Charlotte as an intrusion into his relationship with his older brother, who had been his surrogate father figure since he could remember, stepping in when their own father had faded into the background after their mother's passing.

But Charlotte never engaged with his petulant behaviour. She offered him neither the confrontation he expected nor the attention he craved. Instead, she simply ignored him, which, to his surprise, frustrated him more than any argument.

A turning point came unexpectedly on a night out for drinks, Joel had convinced Tommy to join them. The night finished with Charlotte drinking both brothers under the table, her soft laughter filling the air as first Joel and then Tommy conceded. When the night was over, Charlotte turned to Tommy with a soft smile, her eyes filled with understanding. "I wondered when you'd finally catch on." 

It was a subtle acknowledgement that she had never been a threat to his relationship with Joel, but rather just an addition. From that moment on, things took a considerable shift From that moment, their relationship changed. Tommy began to see Charlotte as a friend, a confidante, and eventually, as a sister. Despite their rocky beginning, they had become an inseparable part of each other's lives.

But the world went to hell, and everything changed.

The end of the world brought a new dynamic to their relationship. Charlotte had always been a strong woman, but in the face of adversity, it seemed to shine a little brighter. At least that was the front she put on for everyone, Tommy knew it was her way of offering help to their tight knit trio. If she could remain calm and resilient then Joel and Tommy wouldn't have to worry about her so much, she knew her limitations on what she could bring to the group. Back then she wasn't as at ease with firearms, often voicing her concerns of gun ownership. Nor had she been in a fight a day in her life that wasn't a verbal one.

But she navigated even the darkest days with a willpower Tommy admired. And through it all, she stood by Joel, even when he was too lost in his grief to notice.

Tommy had found himself growing more protective of her, especially in those moments when he felt his brother was being unfair. He watched Charlotte nurse Joel through his catatonic grief in those early days in Austin while still trying to navigate her own.

When Joel succumbed to his demons, shutting out the world, Charlotte bore the brunt of his pain. She was the one who dealt with the nightmares, the silences, the outbursts. Tommy watched, torn between his loyalty to his brother and his concern for Charlotte. It was a tightrope he was forced to walk, always careful not to overstep his boundaries.

In those moments, Tommy found himself offering quiet support, a listening ear, and a shoulder to lean on. He tried to fill the gaps where he could, his protective streak flaring whenever he felt his brother was not being fair to Charlotte. Their bond deepened, a mix of shared sorrow, mutual respect, and a deep-seated need to survive.

Their relationship was a lifeline amidst the uncertainty of it all. And despite everything, Tommy found comfort in their bond. He knew Charlotte had his back, just as he had hers. 

From the onset, Tommy's inclination towards the Fireflies had been as clear as day. It was the idealistic glimmer in his eyes, the fervor in his voice when he spoke about them. Charlotte, in her status of confidante, was privy to his evolving ambitions. When Tommy finally confided in her about his plans, her reaction was as he expected, both disbelief and concern.

"Tommy," Charlotte groaned, pressing her fingertips to her forehead in an attempt to ward off the impending headache. "The Fireflies," she paused, looking up at him with an incredulous eyebrow arched high, "Really?"

"They're doing good things, Charlie," Tommy retorted defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. "They're making a difference."

"They like making problems, Tommy," she retorted sharply. "Just today, I saw the lineup of people at the North Church who lost their homes because of the last bomb the Fireflies set off." She said referring to the nonce a place of worship, now been repurposed by FEDRA for delivering aide.

"That was FEDRA's fault," he responded, almost automatically.

Charlotte snorted in disbelief. "FEDRA's fault they bombed a residential block?"

"Look, they're not perfect," Tommy conceded, the fire in his eyes not dimming an iota. "But it sure as hell beats sitting around here doing nothing and letting FEDRA win."

Charlotte raised an eyebrow as she shot him a steely gaze, "Sitting around here doing nothing?" she retorted, her tone frosty. She had known what he had meant by this, but wanted him to realise what he had said.

"You know what I mean. I don't have the same skill set as you, Charlotte. I don't have a law degree or your way with words. In just two weeks of arriving in Boston, you had already built a network, making changes and giving people hope. Me? I'm just following Joel around again. I was just a soldier in the Army, believing I could make a difference and look how that ended. Then I got out and started working with Joel, I kept promising myself that I would get my life together," he threw his hands up in a gesture to the desolate apartment he, Joel and Charlotte called home, "this happened, everything went to shit. I feel like I've missed my chance to do something meaningful."

"Tommy-" Charlotte started, her voice filled with concern.

"Charlotte, don't." Tommy interrupted, his tone resolute.

"No, I will - you're just as important Tommy, if if wasn't for you we'd still be in that shitty excuse of a QZ in Austin. Don't get me started on how many deals of Joel's that he thinks he scored when it was you that did the work. Please don't sell yourself short."

Tommy's silence spoke volumes, a mixture of gratitude and hesitation. 

"Just don't tell Joel okay, I'm going to speak with Marlene tomorrow." Tommy finally revealed, his voice tinged with determination.

The gravity of his words doused ice down Charlotte's spine, their implications sinking in. She knew the risks he would be taking, the dangers that would come with joining Marlene. Fear whispered to their thoughts and she tried to shake herself of the cold dred that filled the pit of her stomach.

"Just promise me you'll be careful," she pleaded softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Always am, Charlie," he reassured with what was supposed to be a playful wink, but his voice lacked the conviction that convinced Charlotte that he would be.

She had watched as he rose from the kitchen table, making his way to his room. The soft click of the door closing behind him echoed in her ears, filling her with a sense of foreboding. The four of them, reluctantly including Tess, were all walking on a precarious tightrope, balancing between survival and sacrifice, and Charlotte couldn't shake the feeling that they were teetering on the edge of a precipice where one wrong move would mean they would sink or swim.

Now, in all too different circumstances, a vastly different life for them both in Jackson - ironically at a kitchen table again - the reappearance of Joel had Charlotte feeling like she was precariously on the edge of something again.

"Charlotte," Tommy started, his voice measured and low. He was familiar with her ways of avoidance, after all. "Joel left this morning, with the girl, Ellie." he paused, "He didn't say if he'd be back."

The clatter of dishes paused for a moment, the only sound in the room was the running of water into the sink. Charlotte didn't turn, keeping her back to Tommy. "I see," was all she said, her voice steady her eyes fixed on the cracked window pane as she watched the early morning sun filter in.

"Are you okay?" Tommy asked after a long silence, his gaze soft.

Charlotte gave a small laugh, though it lacked genuine humor as she turned off the tap. "Of course, I'm fine, Tommy," she assured him, her smile forced. It was an obvious lie to Tommy and she hoped for once he would ignore calling her out on it. Her eyes, usually lively and expressive, held a sadness that betrayed her. 

A part of her, however tiny, harbored the hope that Joel would have said goodbye, despite the bitter exchange they'd had the night before. He had no obligation to her, of course, and it was hypocritical of her to expect any, but it still didn't help the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Did he say anything?” Charlotte finally asked, her voice barely audible. The question hung heavy in the room.

Tommy frowned, the two had agreed a very long time that lies were not akin to survival, and they'd be honest with one another. He didn't know that Joel had come across her in the square the night before and Charlotte didn't feel it necessary to share, nothing of consequence beside him explaining his journey from Boston with Ellie. 

However last night, seeing Joel so beyond broken down, a shell of the Joel he'd left in Boston, Tommy took pause in sharing this with Charlotte. Did she need to know that everything she had predicted would become of Joel if she would be leave actually happened? That he would look around and realise the was alone having pushed everyone away? Did she need to know all this? He saw the life she had been slowly building for herself. Finding peace finally in the Jackson commune, the whatever they were calling it this week relationship with Marcus and the leadership she brought to the commune with Maria as a part of the council. He'd finally started seeing genuine smiles from her again in the past couple of years. Did he really want to take that away from her?

"No." Tommy managed to say delivering it as both a statement and a full sentence.

"So, he just left?" Tommy nodded, now she was getting irritated. "So he just turns up, then fucks off without a word? That's it?"

Tommy let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the situation evident in his weary eyes. He rubbed his temple, trying to gather his thoughts. "I don't have all the answers, Charlotte."

Charlotte's frustration grew, her voice tinged with exasperation. "I mean, seven years ago he was content to let you go, let me go. And now all of a sudden, he wants to find you? What changed?"

Tommy's gaze fell, his voice filled with a mix of regret and uncertainty. "I stopped radioing him."

"You were radioing him? All this time?!" Charlotte's eyes widened in disbelief, this was new information - Jackson was off the grid, which meant off the radio unless it was an emergency. "And what, you just stopped messaging him?"

Tommy nodded, feeling the weight of his decision pressing on him. "Maria thought it might be doing more harm than good. She said it was better to lay low, to keep our presence hidden."

"Jesus christ, Maria knew? So you stopped reaching out to Joel because Maria said so?" Charlotte's tone was incredulous, disbelief lacing her words.

"It was supposed to be temporary," Tommy admitted, a tinge of guilt creeping into his voice. "I was going to reach out again."

He could sense the shift in Charlotte's emotions, her anger in confusion of Joel's return, Tommy's admission he'd been in contact with Joel all these years at war against her own feelings for not only their shared history but the strained relationship between the two brothers.

"You never said anything." and Charlotte knew why, "You never told him I found you did you?"

Tommy hung his head, it was all the admittance Charlotte needed. She drummed her fingers on the wooden table across from Tommy, "I see." was all she could say. 

So Joel hadn't left Boston to look for her and Tommy had not thought it worthy news that she, by the skin of her teeth had managed to find him and was alive. Which meant it was very much confirmation Joel hadn't ever mentioned her departure from the QZ on any of their communications.

Suddenly, Charlotte felt a stifling need to escape. The four walls of her kitchen felt like they were closing in. Despite it being her haven, her sanctuary, she had to leave the same feelings she experienced when Joel chose the QZ over her all those years ago began to surface and she was struggling to focus. "I can't be around you right now," she said not looking at him. She gestured to Tommy with his cup of coffee untouched. "Stay as long as you want, just lock the door after you."

---

There had been plenty of work to get busy with once she left Tommy at her house. A community to help lead, a life to live. Joel had made his choice, and she had made hers. However by the afternoon, the usual tactics weren't working, her chest got tight, her ears ringing she felt like the world was spinning around her.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she tried to force herself to push down the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She'd reached her limit. She found herself walking aimlessly, drawn in the direction of the Tipsy Bison. Running a shaky hand through her hair, she sat down at the end of the bar, a silent nod to Kelly who was holding fort that afternoon and who wordlessly placed a glass of whiskey in front of Charlotte. She hated the stuff, but it was a fast and sure way to clear her mind.

Charlotte knocked back another shot of whiskey, her mind spun with conflicting emotions. This wasn't her, she thought bitterly, tracing her finger along the rim of the now empty glass. She had spent years building a life of stability and purpose in Jackson. But now, with Joel's unexpected return, her carefully constructed facade was crumbling and she was mentally trying to hold it all together and failing. The memories, the unresolved feelings, they all rushing back too fast and colliding with her efforts to move forward. 

The buzz of the Tipsy Bison was a dull hum in Charlotte's ears, the myriad of voices fading into the background as she drowned her sorrows in an uncountable number of refills. At some point, Kelly had just left her the bottle. The alcohol warmed her, chasing away the cold dread of Joel's reappearance and Tommy's revelation.

Attempting to pour another shot of whiskey Charlotte watched Marcus lean against the bar next to her. A familiar face in a crowd of blurry shapes. He took the bottle from her and filled the glass.

Marcus, who knew her well enough to understand the look in her eyes. Marcus, who knew how to handle her in the best and worst of times.

"Marcus," she slurred slightly, sidling up to him with a too-wide smile on her face, her arm slipping around his waist. "You know, you're really lovely."

He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made her heart flutter, but his eyes remained serious as he caught her wandering hand and gently moved it away. "I think you've had enough, Charlotte," he said firmly.

Charlotte shot back the drink Marcus had poured with surprising ease despite her current state. A frown formed on his face. Word had gotten back to Tommy that Charlotte had been drinking since the early afternoon. While she hadn't been causing any issues, it was uncharacteristic of her. Not wanting to make it any worse between them, Tommy had sought out Marcus to check in on Charlotte, making an excuse for himself.

Marcus recalled his conversation from the previous night with Charlotte, remembering the stillness in her voice when he mentioned Tommy's brother.

"I'm fiiiine," she protested, her hands reaching out to grip his shirt, pulling herself closer to him and to steady herself on her suddenly unstable feet.

Marcus just shook his head, his hands on her arms, providing stability. "Maybe it's time to call it a night?"

With surprising ease, he helped her up from her barstool and wrapped her arm around his waist, guiding her out of the bar. Charlotte leaned heavily on him, feeling the world spin slightly around her.

He helped her walk the way home, his grip steady and comforting. She didn't protest when he laid her down on her bed, her body sinking into the soft mattress.

"Stay..." she mumbled, her hand reaching out to grab his, but Marcus just shook his head, a soft smile on his face.

"Not tonight, Charlotte," he said, gently removing her hand and tucking her into bed. "Sleep it off."

And with that, he turned and left, leaving Charlotte alone with her thoughts in the echo of Joel's absence.

---

The sun was a glaring intrusion when Charlotte woke, a pounding headache pulsating behind her eyes. She groaned, the taste of stale alcohol in her mouth, and memories of the previous night came flooding back. Images of Marcus and her pathetic advances made her wince.

She rolled out of bed, moving slowly to lessen the pounding in her skull. A quick shower helped, but it was clear she wasn't going to shake this hangover easily.

With a deep breath, she decided to face the mess she'd made. Gathering her strength, she headed over to Marcus' place, feeling the morning sun warming her skin, the light only amplifying her headache.

She found Marcus outside his house, hammer in hand as he worked on repairing a fence. He looked up at her approach, his dark eyes warm despite her behavior last night.

"Charlotte," he greeted her, putting his tools down and wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

"Marcus," she said, her voice strained. She cleared her throat, trying to find the right words. "About last night, I... I'm sorry. I was out of line."

He studied her for a moment, his gaze steady. Then he chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it, Charlotte. We've all had nights we're not proud of."

His easy forgiveness was a balm to her embarrassment. "Still, I shouldn't have..." she trailed off, her apology hanging in the air between them.

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "And yet, here we are, still friends." Then, with a tilt of his head, he gestured towards his house. "I've got some breakfast going. You look like you could use some food."

Charlotte hesitated, then nodded, grateful for his kindness. As she followed him inside, she couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude for his understanding and his unwavering friendship, something that had become a rare commodity in their world.

After breakfast, they settled onto Marcus's porch, a soft morning breeze causing the leaves in the trees to rustle gently. The day was warming up, the sun already high in the sky, but under the shade of the porch, it was still cool.

Marcus slid onto the bench next to Charlotte, their bodies close enough that their shoulders brushed. His hands, weathered and cracked from the winter air, cradled a cup of coffee, the steam twisting upwards in the chill morning air.

Charlotte, wrapped in one of Marcus jackets on top of her own, looked out into the horizon. The rising sun was beginning to touch the tops of the buildings, setting them aglow. 

There was a lengthy silence as Marcus took a sip of his coffee, his gaze also fixed on the sunrise. Charlotte knew he was giving her time, giving her space. Finally, feeling the weight of the silence, she decided to break the quiet.

"His name is Joel," she began, her voice barely a whisper against the quiet of the morning. She swallowed, her throat dry. "We were together, before the outbreak...and then after." Her voice was soft, the raw emotion carefully hidden behind each word.

Marcus turned to look at her. His eyes held a softness, and a compassion that warmed her from the inside. "And the girl?" he asked, his voice just as gentle.

"Ellie, I think? She’s not Joel's." Charlotte responded, leaving it at that, she was still trying to process all of what Joel had said the night before. 

A simple nod from Marcus acknowledged her response. He had this ability to communicate volumes with minimal words. During her time in Jackson, Charlotte had remained guarded about her past, only sharing her true connection to Tommy with Maria because Tommy himself had revealed Charlotte's existence before she'd even contemplated leaving the Boston QZ. Joel was a ghost, a figure absent from her tales about her past life. 

That was until last night.

"Joel and I..." she faltered, choking on the words. "We had a daughter, Sarah." Her eyes pricked with tears as she confessed this long-held secret. "She was his biological child. My... my step-daughter, but she felt like no less than all mine."

"Family," Marcus stated, recognizing the significance of her confession.

Charlotte nodded, wiping away a tear that had dared to slip down her cheek. "Yeah."

A somber silence settled between them, each lost in their own memories. Marcus was the one to break it this time. "Naomi," he said, his voice heavy with unspoken pain. "That was my wife's name. She...she was pregnant when the outbreak started."

The information hit Charlotte like a punch in the stomach. She knew about his wife, knew about his loss, but this was the first time Marcus had revealed his wife's name, the first time he had mentioned their unborn child. Her heart ached for him.

"I'm sorry, Marcus," she whispered, reaching over to cover his hand with hers. "I'm so, so sorry."

His eyes, dark with shared pain, looked at their entwined hands. "We all have our ghosts, Charlotte," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, his fingers gently squeezing hers. The simple gesture radiated a warmth that spread through her, grounding her in the present moment.

Charlotte looked up at him, her lips curving into a soft smile. "You always know just what to say, don't you, Marcus?" she joked, the gentle teasing lacing her words. His wisdom often took her by surprise, belied his age, and felt like reading snippets from a self-help book.

A comfortable silence enveloped them, their bodies finding solace in the closeness they shared. Charlotte's head found a resting place on Marcus's shoulder, her worries momentarily quieted. The weight of the past pressed against her, her head barely above the tide. The mantra she had clung to since Outbreak Day echoed in her mind: keep moving, keep busy.

There was no time to sit in the past, it did little to help. She had no clue what was ahead, but she'd keep herself busy and keep moving forward. If only to just try and keep a few steps ahead of the looming past she was always trying to keep exactly there, in the past.

#gold rush #joel miller x ofc #joel miller x oc #joel miller/ofc #joel miller/oc #hbo the last of us #hbo the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[curseofaphrodite]

norse gods and magazines

summary: mission score-a-date was officially on. | written for mailcarrier event organized by the very lovely @burnthoneymint and @leydileyla! join our server here!

[fem!pronouns, fluff]

I'm a powerful god. POWERFUL. I can do this. Asking someone out on a date can't be worse than anything I've done before.

"Did you get stuck with the mailman duty?" you asked, trying to fight back a laugh. Loki stared back unamused.

"Short answer, yes." He sighed, holding a stack of books forward, "Now take these before I dump them on Stark's head."

"Oh please you secretly like being here," you pointed out. "Think of it as a vacation. Earth isn't all that bad."

I know, he thought.

"Being exiled from my kingdom by my own father isn't bad? You're right! I should be dancing with joy!" he said in mock-happiness. "I do admit it has certain advantages... there's something I want to—"

You raised an eyebrow as he broke off his words.

"Yes?"

"Uhm," he blinked. Dinner. Just say it. DINNER.

"Loki?"

Nope. Not doing it. Would be awkward to ask you after such a big pause. He needed an opening. God, how he wished you would invite him in!

"Get in, you look like hell," you said, pointing to the hallway.

"I beg your pardon?" Did you just read my mind?

"Yes, yes you're a god blah blah, but you are exhausted. Atleast get yourself a glass of water before you faint in my front yard."

"Fine, but only because I'd rather jump into a pit of fire than go back to Stark's office."

This time, a laugh did slip out of your mouth. He scowled, though he didn't complain. It was that laugh that got him into this mess in the first place. Loki had unknowingly fallen heads over heels for you the very first time he saw you (which was years ago). Maybe it was the way you brightened up the room, cracked bad jokes, or your adorable clumsiness. Whatever it was pulled him in and didn't let go. He thought he wouldn't see you again, but his father had terrible timing.

He strode in determinedly. Whatever Loki wants, he usually got it. And right now, he wanted to take you out on a date. Who cares if it'll go horribly wrong?

"I should have stayed in space," Loki said, plopping down on the couch. The green contrasted all your beige furniture. It felt oddly perfect.

"Don't be ridiculous, you don't know any other planet than Earth."

"I could have tried to find one if Thor hadn't put me in shackles!"

"He just asked if you wanted a place to stay and you said yes. You lie so much it's surprising you're not bored of it yet."

"I never lie!" he said, gasping dramatically. "He said he'll find me a place to stay, not make me Stark's responsibility. He certainly didn't mention anything about me being a postman!"

"Thor doesn't have a place to stay on Earth either and Tony's just being cautious. Could you blame them? You're not known for being the warmest guest."

"I despise mortals," he grumbled, cracking his neck with his eyes closed. An innocent gesture, but one that made you stare a little too much.

Stupid, you scolded yourself and stood up. "I'm also a mortal, you know."

"I tolerate you. That doesn't make you any less annoying." Wow, way to flirt.

"I'll bring you tea," you snapped, storming off to the kitchen.

"Don't add too many sweet cubes!"

"You'll be lucky if I don't add poison!" your voice yelled back.

He smiled then. Humans were incredibly stubborn, he had to give them that. He looked around the room he was sitting on, eyes not missing everything.

The strange trinkets on your table (a ticking clock and TV remote), the rectangle box which occasionally glowed up with words that made no sense to him (your phone), the flowers which never withered (plastic ones) — he was fascinated by all of them.

He spotted a set of photographs on your shelf and stood up without thinking to take a closer look. Just as he reached his hand forwards to touch the frame, something the speed of a firework ran between his legs, making him completely lose his balance. He knocked down the pictures instead, causing you to run back to the scene.

"You got a cat," Loki noted, face down on the floor.

"One minute in and you're already ruining my decor," you said, sighing. You put down the gloves you were using in the kitchen, then gave him a hand to get up. He did so begrudgingly. "His name is Salem by the way. My cat."

"Ah," he put on an interested expression, but he couldn't care less. Any creature who made him look like a fool in front of his crush was not someone he wanted to be on a first-name basis.

"Listen," he said impulsively. "About what I wanted to say earlier, I—"

A sneer interrupted his words.

"Sorry," you giggled, patting Salem's head. "He's doing the Boyfriend Snarl."

"The what?"

"Anytime I bring over a guy I like, he does this just to scare them off."

"A cat…scares off the guys you like?"

"The snarls doesn't. The next step is how he bites them."

Loki involuntarily took a step back. You laughed again.

"You don't have to worry. You're not my date."

"Right…and does he bite now or later?"

"He won't bite you. Would you now Salem?" you asked affectionately. Loki could swear the cat smiled wickedly. He gulped.

Fine, FINE. You win, I'll just ask her out tomorrow. You furry, adorable menace.

"I'll take you up on the tea later." He stated, pointing to the door. "Judging by the number of magazines you read, I'm sure we'll see each other again soon."

"Oh, okay." You were a little disappointed, but you hid it well. Just as he was about to turn, you spoke up again. "Would you like a tour guide?"

He almost grinned. "Pardon?"

"Earth is very much new to you. Maybe I could show you around later? Even go shopping? It'll be fun!"

"Dinner." He said abruptly.

"What?"

"We should have dinner after," he added.

"Deal," you smiled. "Now you better run before—"

"Your cat kills me? I figured. Bye!" He turned on his heels and burst into green smoke.

Salem hissed under his breath, as if to say — all your boyfriends are scaredy cats.

#loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki x you #loki fluff #loki x reader fluff #astoria writes #fluff #imagines #loki imagines #fem!reader #loki x fem!reader #mcu #marvel #.mailcarrier may

[akwolfgrl]

I kinda started wirteing a new series lol. Like I don't have enough of thouse already. Here's part one of kitsune sanji

Minako had been waiting for a very long time, she was to stay here until she found the right preson to give over the Kitsunebi to. They had to be just right, many had failed to draw her interest and a the few that did soon failed to hold it. A blonde male with a cigarette dangling from his mouth and bags in his hands passed by.

"Please sir, can I have some food?" She expected him to ignore her and countie walking on by but he stopped.

"Sure, it's mostly ingredients but I'm happy to give you some," He couched down onto her leavel, the ally sterwn with flith, his fancy suite seemed to matter little to him. The blonde man dug threw his bags handing her fruit and vegetables. "If you here tomorrow I can come back with a proper meal,"

"Oh thank you kind sir," Minako didn't believe him for one second, humans were liers and none had been proven worthy of the Kitsunebi of the powers and responsibilities that came with it in a hundred years.

The next morning she saw him once again, he had surprised her, no one had ever returned. Once again without any regard to his clothes he couched down next to her.

"I made you a few meals to get you therw the next few days, I can't do much more since we're leaving tomorrow morning but I hope these help,"

As he handed her the bento boxes a beam of sunlight set him a glow, minako took his hands in hers after she put the beto boxes down. She peered into his past seeing flashing of a sweet child burtel abused by his family, she sees his compassion for tiny creatures. She sees his hopes of finding something no.belives to exist, she sees him give thouse dreams up for someone eles. She sees him giveing of himself so others may live. She sees his strength and his love of his family.

She knew that he was the one. What happened next was up to him, could he survive as a kitsune? The transformation could be extemaly painful if he didn't make it the Kitsunebi would find its way back to her.

"Thank you young man, I have a gift for you," She took out the Kitsunebi from the bag she keept it in. She handed him the glowing orb.

"Oh I couldn't take this," He tired to protest.

"But you must I insist plase do this one thing for me," Minako pleaded with him she saw the moment he gave in.

"All right if you insist,"

"Thire you are you curly, and you say I get lost and here I am finding you," A gruff voice belonging to a man with green hair and three swords came to stand by the blond man. She watched as he sliped the orb in to his jacket before standing.

"I'm not lost marimo, I came here deliberately it's not my fault you followed me,"

Minako took the beto boxes and left the men to argue her job now done. When out of sight she began to hand out the meals to others who needed them. She washed the new kitsune luck in his new jeroney.

<>

Latter that night Sanji curled in to his bunk on the Sunny clutching the glowing orb to his chest not wanting to be apart from it. He didn't understand why but he was afired of it disspareing form his sight. Zoro was on watch tonight but he was just to exhausted to join him. Sani let the gental waves lull him to sleep, he preferred to sleep on the ship even when they were land. It was familiar to him.

The next morning Sanji woke to his body aching, almost as if he had been in a fight. Witch was ridiculous since they hadn't been in any fights for a few weeks. Sanji ignored the aching throbbing pain, his joints cracked and popped in ways that sounded bad and unfamiliar. Sanji was agile and flexible after years of training but today it hurt to move. He just needed to focus on cooking and the all blue to take his mind away from his body for a bit. With a deep breath Sanji made his way to the kitchen and if he walked stiffer than normal it wasn't like anyone was up to see it.

Sanji had stop on his way to galley, he rested his shoulder against the wall panting as the pain raked threw his body.

The all blue, the deep ocean of his dreams. Teaming with life, fish from everywhere. Sanji couldn't almost touch them as they swam past. The sun shining into the water setting it aglow.

Sanji stood back up, it had been an old trick he had thought himself in order to survive the hell his family put him thru, to survive slowly starving to death on that island. He headed stirght for the fridge taking out eggs, various fruits and meats. He also grabbed all the condiments required to make everyone's eggs to their specifications. As he got started the normally delicious smell nearly made him gag.

"What the fuck was that?" Sanji shook his head and lit a cigarette to hide the smell, nothing smelled wrong it just didn't agree with him today.

Soon everyone piled in egare for breakfast. He handed everyone their eggs with much less enthusiasm than normal.

"Sanji, are you ok? You don't look too well perhaps you should take a seat," Robin asked looking concerned.

"I'm fine, no need to worry," Sanji waved off her concerns.

Sanji had by some miracle made it past breakfast and only needed to deliver the platter of sandwiches. He stepped out the door of the galley when he heard the cracking and the searing pain shooting threw his body. He could help but to let out a painful whimper as he tried to walk. His legs giving out on him as he hit the deck hard.

"Sanji!" Hands appeared taking the trays from him before they too could hit the deck. At least nothing had been wasted.

He heard screaming as his body began to contort and shake. His bones snapping and breaking Sanji hit his head against the planks of the deck and mercifully passed out.

#one piece #roronoa zoro #sanji #zoro x sanji #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #zoro #fanfic #kitsune

[bornonthesavage]

In the Dark, That's Where I Find You

Read on AO3

It was an undeniable fact that Steve was lucky. He had been told it more times than he could count, from all sorts of people, so it must be true. His friends at school told him he was lucky that he had no one at home to give him a bedtime or make him eat vegetables. The housekeeper that came to bring him groceries and to clean once a week told him he was so lucky to live in such a nice house. Ever since he could remember, his parents had told him that he was lucky to be born to an upper-class family. And when others were around, Steve kept up the façade. He could pretend that he agreed, with bright smiles and boastful words. But in the late hours of the night, when he was all alone in that big house, lucky wasn’t the word he thought about. No, what Steve really was, was lonely.

Even at twelve years old, Steve was pretty sure it wasn’t normal for his parents to leave him alone for up to a month at a time. When he was young, they had hired nannies to care for him while they were away. That hadn’t been great either, but at least there had been someone else in the house with him. Someone to talk to and watch TV with and to make dinner. Then, on Steve’s twelfth birthday, his parents had told him he was old enough to look after himself while they were away. They trusted him to not burn down the house, at least. That had been six months ago.

Now, six months later, Steve sat alone in his living room. His parents had left earlier in the week, promising to be home before the end of the month and told him to call if he needed anything. He never called. What would be the point? It wasn’t like they would come home. No, if he needed something, he would figure it out on his own.

Steve pulled his knees up to tuck against his chest as he sat on the couch, watching a rerun of Gilligan’s Island. A half-eaten bowl of popcorn sat on the coffee table along with an empty coke can. He had heated up a bowl of chicken noodle soup for dinner, which he’d eaten with crushed up saltine crackers, but he always found himself craving a snack before bed. It was almost ten o’clock, but he wasn’t yet tired.  

When the episode ended, Steve stood and began to make his way toward the kitchen. He could go for one more coke before bed. But before he even made it out of the living room, a loud clatter from the back yard made him freeze. He turned, creeping slowly toward the glass door that overlooked the pool. It had sounded like it came from the shed, which sat beyond the pool deck, nestled almost among the trees. His hand shook as he reached up to flip on the back light. A part of him was convinced he would see a horrible monster racing up his yard toward the house, ready to devour him. But that was ridiculous. There was no such thing as monsters.

The yard was completely empty, the pool glowing an eerie green in the night. Steve scanned the perimeter until his eyes landed on the shed. Though it was dark, it looked as if the door was slightly ajar. Now, Steve knew the sensible thing to do was to ignore it until morning. But then he remembered that Kasie Jones, the girl who sat in front of him in math class, had found an injured mother cat behind her house just one month earlier. It was Springtime, she had said, which meant lots of animals would be having babies. If she hadn’t found them, the mother cat and her babies could have died. Steve couldn’t live with being responsible for that.

So, with only a mild amount of fear, he grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen drawer and slid open the glass door. It was early April, so while the days had grown warm, the nights still held a bit of a chill. Steve slid on his outdoor sandals and began to make his way across the yard. Everything was quiet now, except for the crickets. He approached the shed, tilting his head to see if he could hear any meowing. There was nothing.

It wasn’t until he was directly outside the shed that real fear began to prickle at the back of his neck once more. He was far enough from the house that if anything burst out and took chase, he likely wouldn’t make it back without getting caught. Steve took a deep breath and remembered what his dad was always telling him.

“Be a man. Real men don’t shake like little babies.”

Right. Be a man. He stepped forward and grabbed the edge of the door, which had been swaying slightly in the wind, and yanked it open. There wasn’t much inside the shed, just pool equipment and a few yard tools. Steve leaned inside, casting his light around for any sign of an injured cat. He took a step inside, letting the door swing partially shut behind him. The light caught on random items as he scanned. An old broken truck from when he was little, the pool noodles he liked to use when the weather was warm enough, a leaf blower, a pair of human eyes.

Steve screamed, his heart slamming up into his throat as he stumbled backward and dropped the flashlight. His back hit the wall and he fell, his legs giving out with the sheer force of terror he felt in that moment. There was someone else in the shed with him, someone curled up beneath the work bench on the far wall. The flashlight had rolled away from him, its beam pointed in the wrong direction for him to see. Steve glanced at the door, wondering how quickly he’d be grabbed if he made any sudden movements. A quiet voice spoke from the shadows.

“H-hey. It’s alright. You don’t have to be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you.”

That made Steve pause. Whoever it was sounded young, probably close to his age, and they also sound afraid. But what was another kid doing in his shed at night? Steve took a moment to let his heart rate slow before speaking again.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

For a few seconds it was silent, but then he spoke again. “Eddie. My name is Eddie. I was… I was just looking for a safe place to sleep.”

"Oh, well, my name's Steve. But what do you mean to sleep?” Steve asked, furrowing his brow. “Why would you want to sleep in this dingy old shed? There are like, a hundred spiders in here, I’m pretty sure.”

He heard the other boy shift around a bit. “It’s better than outside.”

Well, maybe that was true, but it still didn’t explain much. Slowly, Steve moved onto his knees and crawled forward to grab his flashlight. This put him closer to the other boy, with Steve knelt in the middle of the small room. He raised the light until it fell on the other’s face.

Steve had been right that he seemed to be around his age. With dark curls that fell around his ears and big, pretty brown eyes, Eddie didn’t look like much of a threat at all. In fact, he seemed to be in bad shape. There were dark circles beneath his eyes and his cheeks looked a bit sunken in, as if he hadn’t eaten in a while. His knees were tucked up against his chest, but Steve could tell the jeans he wore were dirty and tattered.  

“Are you homeless?” Which, okay, maybe that was a rude thing to ask, but Steve thought it was a fair question.

Eddie looked away, his brows lowering slightly. “I’m- I mean… Yeah, I guess so.”

Steve tilted his head. “Where are your parents?”

Something in Eddie’s expression became tight, before crumbling. “They’re dead. My mother died a year ago, my father just last month.”

“Shit,” Steve mumbled. That really sucked. He had never met someone who had lost both their parents. “Do you not have any other family?”

Eddie shook his head. “It’s just me.”

“Oh.” Steve shifted off his knees so he could cross his legs. “But, there are places you can go, aren’t there? Like, an orphanage or something? I could probably call the police and they could—”

“No!” Eddie snapped, his eyes darting up to Steve’s. “No, please, nobody can know about me.”

Steve frowned. That was definitely an odd reaction. “Why? Are you some sort of criminal?”

Eddie snorted, the corner of his lips twitching, as if he found that amusing. “No, not really.”

“Not really? Either you are or you aren’t.”

“I’m not,” Eddie insisted. “I’ve never hurt anybody that wasn’t trying to hurt me. But… There are people. Bad people, who would hurt me if they ever found me. So, I’ll leave if you want me to, but you can’t tell anyone about me.”

Steve stared at the other boy. His eyes were wide and serious, his mouth set into a hard line that told Steve he wasn’t joking. Whatever this kid was mixed up in was dangerous, he could tell that much. It would be smart for Steve to tell him to get lost, to find somewhere else to hide out. But, still. He didn’t want him to just leave.

“Where would you go? If I told you to leave, I mean.”

Eddie let out a breath, his shoulders dropping. “I don’t know. Maybe someone else’s shed. Maybe try and make my way to Indianapolis.”

Steve fiddled with his hands. “That sounds dangerous. You can’t go off to the city all by yourself. You’re just a kid, like me.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Eddie’s lips. “Not just like you. I can take care of myself.”

That struck Steve somewhere in his chest, the sentiment all too familiar. “Yeah, so can I, but that doesn’t mean you should have to. You should have someone to look after you.”

Eddie tilted his head, his eyes searching Steve’s face. “Are you always alone?”

“What? How- how do you know that?”

“Oh, um,” Eddie averted his eyes, suddenly looking a little bit guilty. “I’ve been here for a few days. I wasn’t trying to spy on you, but I saw that it’s just you in the house. Nobody else ever came or went, but you must have parents, right?”

Steve huffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I have parents. They just… they go out of town a lot for business. And I can’t go with them, because they don’t need a kid running around while they do work. But, it’s like, fine. I have the house all to myself, and I don’t have a bedtime, and I can eat whatever I want.”

Unlike all the other times Steve had told another kid this, Eddie didn’t look all that impressed. If anything, he looked sad. Which… was stupid. So stupid. Steve was lucky. He had everything he could ever want. He didn’t need some orphan, who clearly didn’t have anything this nice, feeling sorry for him.

Eddie rested his chin on his knees. “That sounds really lonely.”

A heavy pit settled in Steve stomach. Nobody else had ever acknowledged that before, and he didn’t really know what to do with it. His first instinct was to defend his parents, to tell Eddie that it was fine, and he didn’t know what he was talking about. But another part of Steve, a stronger part, felt an overwhelming sense of relief. It settled something inside Steve, hearing someone else say the words he’d been keeping locked inside for so long. It was validating.

Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah, it can be. But, that’s just the way it is.”

Eddie didn’t look convinced. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but before he could, a violent shudder shook his whole body. Steve’s eyes wide at the look of pain that crossed Eddie’s face and he hesitantly reached out a hand. Only, that seemed to make it worse, as Eddie flinched away from his touch.

“No, don’t come closer!” Eddie warned. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Steve furrowed his brow. “Hurt me? Why would you hurt me?”

“No, I don’t want to, but… I haven’t eaten in a week. I’m afraid I won’t be able to control myself.”

A week? What the hell? That was way too long for a person to go without food! No wonder Eddie looked so sickly. He was starving to death.

“Hey, if you’re hungry, come inside with me. I can get you something to eat, no problem!”

But Eddie only shook his head, his face still pained. “No, Steve, it’s not… It’s not that simple. There’s nothing in your house I can eat. Well, nothing that I’ll allow myself to have.”

“What are you talking about?”

A look of resignation came over Eddie’s face. “Steve… I’m not- I’m not normal. You should leave. You don’t want me to come into your house with you.”

He really wasn’t making any sense now. Did Eddie think that just because he was homeless and without parents, he was undeserving of kindness? That was ridiculous. If anything, it made Steve want to help him even more. “Uh, yeah, I do. That’s why I invited you.”

His arms tightened around his legs, as if he were protecting himself. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

Eddie’s eyes flashed up to meet Steve’s. “Invite random strangers into your home. It’s dangerous.”

Steve snorted. “I don’t think you’re dangerous, Eddie. You look one minute from keeling over.”

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a humorless laugh. “And that makes it even worse.”

Alright, Steve was starting to grow tired of arguing about this. “Dude, come on. You have to eat something.”

Eddie made a little sound, like a whimper in the back of his throat, and closed his eyes. “If you knew the truth about me, you wouldn’t say that. If you knew the truth, you would run away. Or maybe even try to hurt me.”

“Whoa, hey, no. Eddie, I promise I won’t hurt you. I’m just trying to help.”

Outside the shed, it sounded like the wind began to pick up as the structure creaked ominously. Steve pulled his jacket more firmly around himself and couldn’t help but think that Eddie’s thin hoodie didn’t seem warm enough. Maybe Steve could give him some of his clothes. It’s not like his parents would ever notice. The look Eddie gave him when he opened his eyes was filled with sorrow.

“Yeah, I know. You seem really nice, Steve. And I’m afraid that if I come with you, I’ll hurt you without meaning to, and then I’ll be a monster, which I don’t want to be.”

Steve was trying to understand, he really was. People called him stupid sometimes, which he didn’t really agree with, but now he was struggling to follow what Eddie was saying. How could Eddie hurt him without meaning to?

“Eddie, I don’t understand. Please, you can tell me the truth. I won’t run away, I promise.”

Eddie shook his head, casting his big eyes down. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Hey, look at me.” He waited until Eddie did, then scooted forward on his knees. Slowly, without making any sudden movement, he held up his pinky. “I pinky promise I won’t leave you. And I always keep my pinky promises.”

A hesitant smile grew on Eddie’s face, though he still seemed extremely uncertain. Finally, after what felt like forever, Eddie brought his pinky up and wrapped it around Steve’s. It was slightly shocking, just how cold Eddie was. Like his skin was just a thin layer of ice, molded around bones. That couldn’t be good. Steve really needed to get him inside. Before he could pull away, Eddie spoke.

“And I promise to do my very best not to hurt you.”

Steve grinned. “Well, there you go. So, go on then. Tell me what the problem is.”

Eddie sighed, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “Okay, I guess I might as well. I don’t have anything else to lose. Um, have you… have you heard of vampires?”

“Vampires?” Steve asked, scrunching up his nose. “What, like Dracula? Or The Count on Sesame Street?”

Eddie snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I mean sort of. But also, no. What if… what if vampires were real?”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “I don’t understand. Vampires aren’t real, so what does that have to do with anything?”

A look of frustration crossed Eddie’s face. “Steve. I’m trying to tell you. Vampires are real. I know, because I am one.”

For several seconds, Steve didn’t speak. The only sound to be heard was the shifting of trees outside and the quiet breathing of the two boys. Finally, Steve let out a laugh.

“Yeah, right, okay. Look, I don’t know why you don’t want to tell me—”

“Steve—”

“But it’s fine, I guess. You don’t have to trust me, I guess.”

“Steve, I am telling you the truth! See, this is another reason I didn’t want to tell you. Humans never believe in anything beyond what they see in the daylight.”

“Oh, come on,” Steve said, dropping back off his knees to sit on his butt. “I get it, you’re trying to prank me, for whatever reason. But I can’t help you unless I know the truth. Or at least until you tell me what the real problem is. You’re not a vampire.”

“I am!” Eddie insisted, the corners of his lips turning down in a frown. “Do you want me to prove it to you?”

At this point, Steve was getting a little bit annoyed. The joke wasn’t that funny. He was cold, and the dirt on the cement floor was digging into his backside, and he really just wanted to get back inside. So, with a jeering smirk, he leaned forward.

“Yeah, sure, go ahead. Prove that you’re a vampire.”

Eddie didn’t move at first, just continued to stare at Steve with his too big eyes. It was a little unnerving, to be honest, the way he didn’t seem to blink or even move. And then, in a flash of movement too fast to be humanly possible, Eddie shot forward. Steve flinched at the unexpected movement, falling back onto his elbows with a small shout of surprise. He half expected to be attacked, to maybe feel Eddie’s hand around his throat or a fist against his cheek. But it never came.

Slowly, Steve opened his eyes. Only, Eddie was nowhere to be seen. The spot beneath the bench was empty, and when Steve looked around, he didn’t see Eddie anywhere. Had he slipped out the door and run away? Why? Steve didn’t understand. But then, Eddie spoke.

“Steve. I’m up here.”

A chill ran down Steve’s back, some primal part of him that had been dormant waking up at hearing the voice from above. Slowly, Steve tilted his head back. What he saw defied all explanation. Eddie was on the ceiling. He was crouched upside down, his hands gripping the wood beam and his feet planted flat on the roof. Eddie blinked down at him, his hair dangling away from his face.

Steve opened his mouth to scream, a natural response he thought. But before he could utter a sound, Eddie was off the ceiling. He landed on top of Steve, his hand pressed firm to his mouth to stop any sound from escaping and his other hand holding Steve to the ground. For a wiry looking kid, he was sure strong.

“Please, Steve, don’t scream,” Eddie begged, his wide eyes earnest. “I promised not to hurt you, and I won’t. You’re safe with me, okay?”

For a few seconds, all Steve could do was stare up at him. He shouldn’t believe him, logically he knew that. Vampires drank blood, human blood, which Steve had. But if Eddie had wanted to hurt him, surely, he would have already. He could even do it right now. Steve was trapped beneath him, his movement completely restricted. So, slowly, Steve nodded. Eddie chewed his lip, before removing his hand. Steve took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Holy crap. You’re like, a real vampire?”

Eddie nodded, still looking concerned. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Wow. How long have you been a vampire for?”

“Uh, my whole life?” Eddie said with a chuckle.

Steve frowned. “Wait, what? But I thought vampires were made by being bitten.”

Eddie finally climbed off Steve, sitting cross legged in front of him while Steve sat up and matched his position. “Yeah, some. Some vampires are humans who were turned. But others, like me, were born as vampires. Both of my parents were vampires, and they had me.”

Huh. Steve had never heard of anything like that before. “But what about, like, mirrors and blood drinking and stuff?”

“Eh, I mean, most of the stuff humans know about vampires was made up by them. Except for the blood drinking, that’s true.”

“What about sunlight?”

Eddie scrunched up his nose. “Well, I won’t burst into flames if I’m exposed to it. But it does sting my skin and hurt my eyes, so I avoid it if possible.”

Steve nodded, taking that it. “So, that’s why you’re hiding out here in my shed?”

Eddie nodded.

“Hmm, ok. Well, you know, you might be more comfortable inside the house.”

“You… would invite me into your house? Even knowing what I am?”

Steve shrugged. “Yeah, why not? I believe that you won’t hurt me, and it doesn’t sound like you have anywhere else to go. Plus, I’m getting pretty cold.”

He pushed himself to his feet and held his hand out for Eddie, who hesitated. He looked unsure, and maybe a little bit afraid, though Steve couldn’t imagine of what. It wasn’t like he was going to hurt Eddie. When Eddie didn’t immediately take his hand, Steve gave it a shake.

“Come on. It’s okay.”

Finally, Eddie reached up and took it. Steve hoisted him up, then still holding his hand, led him out of the shed. Eddie looked around as they crossed the yard, as if afraid someone was going to pop out and do a sneak attack. They got to the sliding glass door and Steve pushed it open, stepping into the wonderfully warm living room. He tried to pull Eddie in after him, but the other boy hesitated on the threshold.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure? Are you sure you want to invite me in? Once you do, you can’t take it back.”

Steve sighed. “Eddie, I don’t understand. You promised you won’t hurt me, and I’m not going to hurt you, so what’s the problem?”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to help myself. It’s just… I’m so hungry. I haven’t eaten anything in almost a week, and you… you smell really good. And I don’t want to hurt you, I promise. But what if I lose control?”

Steve blinked a few times. Oh. He hadn’t really considered that. “And… you need to drink blood? That’s all you eat?”

Timidly, Eddie nodded.

“Right. Okay. Well, maybe I could give you a little bit of my blood, just to hold you over, and then—”

“No!” Eddie shouted, ripping his hand out of Steve’s. “No, Steve, please don’t offer me that. I’m too hungry, I know I won’t be able to stop once I’ve started. I’ll kill you, and then… then I really will be a monster.”

Steve chewed his lip, wavering in the doorway. “What do you normally do when you’re hungry?”

“I hunt animals, usually. But… I waited too long. I’m too weak to catch anything on my own now.”

Right. That made sense. Steve was a little relieved to hear that Eddie usually hunted animals. If he could only drink human blood, they would definitely be in a bit of a pickle.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” he said, “Tonight, you’ll come in and sleep somewhere cozy. You won’t kill me or try to drink my blood. Tomorrow I’ll skip school and go to the butcher in town. I know they stock cow blood, because my nana bought some a few years ago to make this really gross pudding.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide, his mouth falling open slightly. “You’d do that? You’d really go out of your way to help me?”

Steve grinned wide, taking his hand once more. “Of course! We’re both on our own right now, so we should look after each other, shouldn’t we? And my parents left me plenty of money for snacks and stuff, so they won’t even notice if I use it for something else.”

There was something warring in Eddie’s big brown eyes, a well of emotion that Steve couldn’t guess at. All he knew was that he wanted to help Eddie, and so he was going to. When Eddie still didn’t make any move to come inside, Steve tugged gently on his hand.

“Come on. I’m inviting you inside. You’ll be okay.”

Eddie took a deep breath, then nodded, as though coming to a decision. Hesitantly, he stepped forward, bringing one foot over the threshold. He stared down at his foot, as if half expecting it to burst into flames. Could that happen? Steve really hoped not. Finally, Eddie brought his other foot inside. Steve smiled, nodding encouragingly.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.”

He slid the glass door shut behind them and locked it before closing the curtains. Eddie had wandered a few more paces in, standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room. His baggy sweatshirt hung loosely from his limbs, and in the light, Steve could see smudges of dirt on the other boys face. It must have been a long time since he’d had a bath.

“Do you want to use my shower before bed?”

Eddie glanced at him over his shoulder, his brow furrowing. “Are you saying I stink?”

“What? No! No, I wouldn’t say that, I promise! It’s just—”

He stopped when he saw Eddie chuckling. “I’m only joking. I do smell. That’s what happens when you live in the woods for a couple weeks.”

Steve huffed and rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, very funny. Come on, follow me.”

He shut off the tv as they passed it by before switching off the lights and leading Eddie to the stairs. The other boy followed close behind, and when Steve turned to look at him, saw he was taking everything in.

“This place is like a castle,” Eddie murmured.

“Eh, not really. Castle’s have a lot more people in them. It’s just me here.”

“Why don’t your parents want to live here?”

“They do!” Steve said, defensive. “They do live here. They just… go on a lot of business trips. They’re super busy.”

Eddie hummed, not commenting on it any further, which Steve was grateful for. He didn’t want to talk about his parents. All that ever did was make him sad, and he wasn’t in the mood to feel sad. He had a vampire in his house. A vampire who might want to be his friend. He couldn’t entirely wrap his head around it.

They reached the second landing and Steve led Eddie down the hall to his room. He flicked on the light and moved to sit on the bed, watching Eddie as he looked around the room. For some reason, the corners of Eddie’s mouth turned down in a frown.

“What, you don’t like my room?”

Eddie shrugged, walking to stand beside his dresser with the ribbons he’d won at his school’s field day. “It’s not very… you, is it?”

“What do you mean.”

“I don’t know. Where are the pictures? The posters of your favorite bands and movies? Where’s the mess?”

Steve looked around, forcing himself to see his room from someone else’s perspective. “My mom doesn’t like messes. And I just, I don’t know, haven’t really thought about adding anything to the walls.

Eddie hummed again. “Well, you should. Give this checkered monstrosity a little life.”

“Hey, it’s not that bad.”

“It sort of is. Let me guess, your mom picked it out?”

Steve rolled his eyes. Eddie sure was a lot sassier now that he’d come inside. Hopefully that meant he felt comfortable. “Yeah, so? I don’t mind it, so why does it matter?”

Eddie held up his hands. “Hey, as long as you like it.”

“Right. Well, if you want to take a shower, it’s right through that door,” he said, motioning to his on-suite. “I’ll put a towel and some pajamas you can borrow on the counter for when you get out.”

“Yeah, ok, cool.”

Eddie stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him, leaving Steve alone to sit on his bed. Right, this was totally normal and okay. He had a vampire in his house, one that was apparently his age and who had nowhere else to go. If his parents found out, they’d flip. Luckily, they weren’t home, so there was no need to worry about that. Unless… well, unless Eddie decided he wanted to stay. Surely being here would be better than going to the city alone, to ask a bunch of creepy older vampires if he could live with them. That sounded pretty terrifying, if you asked Steve.

Because really, what could they have that Steve didn’t? Did they have a twenty-seven-inch screen tv? No, he doubted it. Would they have a pool, or a whole forest behind their house for privacy? In the city? Yeah, he didn’t think so. Which, okay, maybe he was getting ahead of himself. He had just met Eddie, he couldn’t ask him to stay with him. Even if he wanted to.

It would be pretty cool to have someone else his age who lived in his house, though. Someone who wouldn’t leave on trips for most of the month. Someone he could watch tv with and play games with and stay up talking to. It would be like having a live in friend. That sounded… that sounded really nice.

Steve was jolted from his thoughts at the sound of something clattering in the shower.

“Sorry!” Eddie shouted. “Dropped the shampoo.”

Ah, right, he needed to get Eddie a towel and some clothes. He grabbed one of his fluffiest towels from the cupboard and then took out his second favorite set of pajamas. He’d gotten them from his grandma last Christmas, and they had Snoopy on them. Trying to be as quiet as he could, he placed the items on the bathroom counter before scurrying out again.

The water turned off a few minutes later. Steve climbed into bed to wait, pulling the blankets up and leaving his bedside lamp on. The door opened and Eddie stepped out. Despite being a year older than Steve, the pajamas still hung a little loose on him. His dark curls dripped on his shoulders as he looked around.

When he spoke, he sounded unsure. “So, um, is there another bed I can take? Or I can lay on the floor if you want, I don’t mind.”

Steve scrunched up his nose. “What? I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. My bed is plenty big, just sleep with me.”

Eddie hesitated, but after it became clear that Steve was serious, made his way to the other side of the bed. “You really don’t mind sleeping next to me? Even knowing what I am?”

“I already told you I don’t. But, I mean, if it’ll be a problem for you, you don’t have to.”

“No, it’s just, I probably won’t sleep. I usually sleep during the day, so I’ll probably sit here until I feel tired. Which, yeah, will probably be when you’re waking up.”

“Oh.” Steve hadn’t considered that. “Right. Well, you can go downstairs and watch tv if you want. I’ve got lots of movies.”

Eddie bit his lip, the unnatural sharpness to his fangs all the more obvious in the lowlight of the bedroom. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll just lay here with you. I think I’ll feel too weird, sitting downstairs by myself.”

Steve wouldn’t admit it out loud, but that was secretly what he’d been hoping Eddie would do. He’d been to his fair share of sleepovers, and while he loved a lot of different aspects of them, his favorite was falling asleep next to another person. The feeling of closeness, of safety, that being close to another person brought… there wasn’t really anything else like it. So, Steve wasted no time in pulling back the blanket on Eddie’s side of the bed and urging him to climb in. Only once they were both laying down, with only a few inches between them, did Steve finally shut off the light.

It was late, way later that Steve normally went to bed on a school night. At least he’d already decided he wouldn’t be going into school tomorrow. He would still wake up early, so that he had enough time to bike down to the butcher and get back before Eddie woke up. Despite all the excitement of having a new vampire friend, Steve felt the unavoidable pull of sleep as he snuggled further into his blankets. Before he could drift off, however, Eddie’s voice came from right beside his ear.

“Steve?”

He blinked an eye open, unable to make out the shape of the other boy, having closed the curtains to protect Eddie from the early morning sun. “Hmm?”

For a few seconds, it was quiet. Steve almost wondered if he’d imagined Eddie’s voice, until the other boy spoke again. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he murmured.

“For helping me. For letting me into your house. For… for just being a good person. I don’t know very many off those.”

Steve hummed, smiling sleepily. “Me either. I guess we’ll just have to be good to each other.”

A puff of breath ghosted across Steve’s cheek, leading him to believe Eddie was even closer than he’d thought. He could probably see Steve perfectly, with his superior vampire vision. The thought should scare him. It didn’t.

“Yeah,” Eddie said quietly. “I guess we will.”

Steve wasn’t sure if he said anything else after that, as he drifted off. But when he dreamed of a creature hiding beneath his bed that night, it wasn’t a nightmare. Because he knew, despite what the movies told him, that this monster wouldn’t hurt him.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie au #steve and eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #My writing #These boys are just cute and hurt and lost #They need each other

[spaceorphan18]

Scenes From December 1/24

Written for Klaine Advent 2022. Day One: Team.

***

December, 1993

Liz Hummel leaned against the archway connecting the dining room from the living room.  She kept her arms folded securely across her chest - the old house was a bit drafty, even when full of people, but in truth, she always felt a little out of her element when visiting Burt’s family.  Most of her family remained on the east coast, and for so long it was just her and her mom that the first time she visited the Hummel household, full of its unruly and rambunctious holiday traditions, it felt somewhat overwhelming.  Of course, since then, she had been fully indoctrinated into Hummel traditions, and the busyness of the household didn’t feel so alarming.  Still.  She wished she had brought her glass of wine out from the kitchen. 

The Christmas atmosphere swirled around her.  The living room wasn’t well lit, only a few lamps in the corners omitting an orange glow, each one decorated with red and gold tinsel.  A slightly too big pine tree had been shoved into the far corner, its ornaments awkwardly hanging from its branches as the lights around it sputtered blues, reds, and greens. There still weren’t presents under there yet - the actual Mrs. Hummel, Burt’s mother, didn’t want the dogs to get into them, and kept them away until Christmas Eve. There was a wreath hung around the giant, wooden cut of Ohio that read ‘Ohio Means Home’ that always hung on the wall.  And on every surface were figurines - some of angels, some of Santa and his elves, and one of a porcelain nativity scene that sat on top of the piano.  

Burt sat on his parents’ couch - his dad and two uncles squished next to him as all of them stared intensely at the television.  There was a football game running on the TV.  Who was playing, she couldn’t say.  She only knew it wasn’t a team from Ohio, and didn’t understand why they were still loudly passionate over third downs and missed field goal attempts of teams they didn’t usually care about.  Why not just root for whatever team is winning - she once joked to Burt, much to his chagrin.  That made the most sense to her, anyway. 

Sitting in front of the coffee table was Burt’s brother Andy, trying to teach his younger cousins how to beat a level on some game they were playing on their Game Boy.  Occasionally, the girls would get a little overzealous, wanting to play for themselves, and knock into the coffee table, knocking the bowls of chips, dip, vegetable tray, and beer cans nearly on the floor.  None of the adults near them seemed to notice - too engrossed in the game, but Liz knew at some point, there would be a spill to clean up.  

Over at the piano, Burt’s sister Christine was clunking away at jingle bells as her new boyfriend tried to sing along.  He wasn’t musically inclined at all but Christine still grinned up at him fondly as she played.  It reminded Liz, slightly, of when she and Burt started dating back in college, and she would often break out into a song from her favorite musical.  Burt’s face always turned a delightful quizzical when she did that - it made her love him even more.  

A bit of laughter floated from the kitchen.  Her mother-in-law’s distinctive laugh.  The kind of laugh that only happened this time of year when she allowed herself a few more glasses of her favorite wine.  Liz craned her neck to see the women in the kitchen, Mrs. Hummel deep in one of her infamous stories, keeping Burt’s aunts entertained as they stirred and chopped and peeled dinner.  The only odd one out was the second wife of one of Burt’s uncles, who didn’t always see eye to eye with the rest of the family, but even she was grinning as she washed dishes.  

Liz’s attention turned back to the living room, back to the old, ragged lounge chair that sat in the far corner of the room.  Burt’s grandfather was there, looking comical in the Santa hat someone had lazily placed on his head.  On his lap was her seven month old child, her little Kurt.  Even through all the commotion, she could hear Kurt’s happy laughter as Burt’s grandfather leaned forward, letting Kurt try to grab at the white, fluffy ball at the end of the hat; his chubby arm not quite able to reach it.  

Endeared, Liz made her way across the room, pushing the ottoman out a little so she could sit on it.  “Having fun?” she asked, taking a moment to rub her son’s back.  Kurt didn’t usually take to new people all that well, but he seemed genuinely comfortable sitting on his great-grandfather’s lap.  He gave his mother a comforted look then tried for the white ball again.  

It was good to see Burt’s grandfather smile so grandly.  Burt had told her how worried his mother was about him.  How hard he had taken it when his wife died last year - the pain of which surely hadn’t gone away.  But with a sweet baby on his lap, the gentle man that Liz had only recently gotten to know, the one who reminded her a lot of her husband, came back alive.  

“Well, we’re both going to be upset later since we’ve both missed our naps,” Burt’s grandfather joked.  He bounced little Kurt on his leg, Kurt breaking out into giggles.  “But it’s good to be with family.”  

Liz nodded silently, as she reached out a hand to grab Burt’s grandfather’s hand.  

There was a lot of love in this home, even at its most chaotic.  And even if she wasn’t born a part of it, even if she was still overwhelmed by what a foreign experience it seemed, she could see the love.  And that was what mattered.

“Who names a baby Kurt anyway?” he asked in his playfully gruff voice. 

Liz grinned. “Well, Burt did insist on naming him after you.”    

#klaine advent 2022 #s.o. writes things #glee fic #eventual klaine fic #if you don't see where this is going well -- it's me...

[mysterious-gizem]

I Can't Patch You Up...

DragonHybrid!Dream AU

————

Dream walked across the barren sand dunes, He gave a sigh as his back ached. He hummed at the thought of laying on his soft mattress with his adorable companion. Patches. He felt bad for leaving Patches for so long alone, Luckily the endermen we're taking care of her.

After a few more hours of walking, The masked man went near a sand mountain. He crouched to see a hidden lever behind a dead bush, He pressed the lever, Immediately a secret door open in front of him. He stepped forward entering the room with a stairway going down below.

The walls were stone bricks with moss scattered around, Dream passed through the hall that led him to the main room. The end portal room. Dream looked at the already set up portal as the black liquid like substance swished in front of him. He could see sparkles that resembled stars all around the black substance in thr portal.

The masked man smirked as he leaped into the portal.

———

Dream sighed as he flopped down on his couch, He heard a meow and he perked up. "Patches!" The blond exclaimed as Patches trotted to Dream giving a pleased meow, "I missed youu!" Dream cooed as he petted the adorable feline.

Dream chuckled as he called one of his endermen, The mob instantly appeared infront of him standing formally. "May you feed Patches?" Dream kindly spoke as the enderman nodded.

Patches happily followed the tall entity, Dream sighed as he stood up, Stretching before walking to his room. His eyes scanned the room seeing it was neat and tidy, He slid his finger across the shelf and hummed in satisfaction as no dust was upon it.

Dream took off his hoodie revealing a sleeveless black turtleneck, He sighed as he slipped off his clothes to change into more comfortable ones. He smiled softly as he sat on his comforter.

Dream felt his eyes grow heavy and slowly drifted into slumber.

———

Dream yawned as he pushed himself up from the bed, Once he gained his senses he noticed Patches beside him, He chuckled as he slowly moved away and slid off the bed to not alert her.

Dream stretched once more and took out a specific shirt, He instantly shifted. Dream's eyes glowed a bright green with a hint of purple. Dragon like wings sprouted from his back as he grew horns on his head aswell. He had scales all around his body, Dragon scales to be exact.

Dream sighed as he left the comfort of his home looking up at the midnight black sky—There was no such thing as time in the end, After all—Dream sighed as he walked for a while as he got close to the edge of the floating island. He took a deep breath, He extended his wings showing its intimidating look. Dream stared down with a expressionless look, He stared at the dark abyss, Stars were gleaming and the cold mist blew softly on his hair. The hybrid grinned as he leaped.

In an instant he lifted off, floating high above. It's been a long while since he could fly so freely, He kept zooming about the place dropping himself then quickly flapping his wings to catch himself. The admin snickered as he landed perfectly on the ground.

The hybrid returned home, Shifting, Before entering his home. Dream went to the kitchen and opened a refrigerator, He practically drooled at the sight of raw meat set on a plate. His hands immediately grabbed it and he carefully tossed it on the counter. He swiftly took a knife slicing through the flesh, He let out a hum once he tasted the pure, raw meat settle down on his taste bud's.

———

Dream brought Patches to the overworld, He had a small cottage to stay in whenever he couldn't make it to the end, Dream was caressing Patches fur as they laid in the couch of his small cottage. Dream perked up when he saw someone message him, Technoblade, Dream read the message.

Technoblade whispers to you: Hey nerd, Could we chat a lil bit?

Dream smiled and hovered his fingers over the letters, As he started to type.

You whisper to Technoblade: Sure.

Technoblade whispers to you: Meet me at my house.

Dream turned off his communicator and stood up, Getting a displeased meow from his cat. "Aw sorry Patches, But I got some business to attend to." Dream spoke as he glanced Patches giving her a soft pat on the head before turning his attention to the door. Dream strided to the door, Once the doors opened Patches directly ran outside.

The male chuckled as he watched her climb up a tree and gently lay herself on the branch of the tree, Dream shrugged and made his way to Techno's house.

———

After a few hours of talking with the piglin hybrid Dream was now walking around the SMP, Just checking things out. That was until he came across a particular brunette, Sapnap, Both males looked at eachother as their expression darkened, Dream dusted himself off and put one of his hands on his hips waiting for the brunette to speak.

"Dream-?" Sapnap sternly spoke as he dusted his clothes are went into a defensive stance. Dream said nothing as he scanned the brunette from head to toe, The masked man rolled his eyes and turned around to leave but halted when Sapnap grabbed his wrist. "We need to talk." Sapnap said with a bored look on his face.

"I have no time for this Sapnap..." Dream hissed as he yanked his arms away from the brunette. Before Sapnap could say anything else Dream took off, Sapnap clenched his fist as he looked at the direction Dream left in.

———

Dream was now inside of his house, Preparing food for Patches. Dream picked up Patches bowl and made his way to the door. Dream gasped at the sight before him...Patches was in the ground, drenched in blood. "PATCHES!" The masked man shrieked as he tossed away the bowl he held and ran to Patches.

"Don't ignore me next time." Was written on the note. The blond male crumpled the paper and stood up, Still holding Patches body in his blood stained arms. Dream knew it was Sapnap...That made Dream's anger worst.

Dream started to sob as he held his dead cat in his arms, He saw a note beside Patches that made his blood boil.

"I'll make him pay..."

#dreamwastaken #dragon!dream #dragonhybrid!dream #patches #writing #dreamsmp #dream smp

[blametheeditor]

On The Fritz | Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

previously part of inktober

Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of trapping someone. Mentions of murder and experimenting on people.

Run Down: David agreed to take care of someone named Fritz. He did not sign up for being the guardian of the physical embodiment of the word ‘fritz’.

That’s what I call a play on words

____________________________

David will admit it might not have been the best idea to fall asleep with Fritz still trapped in his pocket.

But hear him out! At least he wasn’t a complete dumbass about it. He knows he doesn’t move in his sleep, so flopping onto the couch on his back guaranteed there wouldn’t be any crushing. Not only that but it’s his suit pocket. How confining can it really be? Not that much, he’s fairly sure.

The thing is, he was really hoping everything that happened wasn’t real.

His charge isn’t two inches tall and acts like trapped lightning after finally escaping its jar. Hadn’t planned to leave a simple and extremely worrying note on the computer before disappearing without help when a bird can easily snatch him up. Isn’t some ‘mythical creature’ because they already deal with murderous animatronics and a boss who will happily experiment on them so that’s definitely not needed nor wanted.

So he was out like Fritz after being forgotten in a pocket the moment his head hit the cushions.

David hesitates when he finally wakes up after a few hours, staring at the ceiling, not wanting to move a muscle and prove the bullshit that happened was all a dream. Because it was. And that’s the last time he’s choosing work over sleep.

I blame Fritz.

A long sigh escapes him before a hand shakenly settles over his heart, freezing when there’s no lump pressing against his fingers. And no lump means there is no shrunk redhead lying inside his pocket. Meaning it was all a dream.

Thank fuck.

David groans as he forces himself to sit up, growling at every joint in his body protesting. The only condolence he’s receiving for sleeping on a couch not made for naps in a full suit is the smell of freshly brewed coffee waiting patiently. At least he has that-

“HOLY SHIT!”

The glowing light he just proved was nothing but a nightmare jumps back after appearing inches from his nose. A second passes before it quickly lands to reveal Fritz as the blinding light subsides. Meaning he’s completely fucked.

“Goddamnit!” David snaps at the worried and miniscule face, an angry finger pointed at the culprit currently making his life hell. “I said you were to stay by me.”

Fritz, still shrunk and still glowing, has the audacity to raise an eyebrow.

“What do you think being put in my pocket means? Leave whenever you fucking like?”

A glare appears at that, hands held beside his head and leaning over to imply sleeping, an angry finger then pointed right back.

David waves it away. “You were safe, I didn’t move an inch.”

He finds himself bristling as eyes almost too small to truly tell they’re green roll dramatically, standing up to snatch the little bastard up as Fritz laughs before flying out of reach. “Hey! You’re grounded for that!”

He can’t hear anything. Can’t hear his charge potentially talking back. Or if he’s still laughing due to the bright glow making it impossible to see any indication of a wide smile and heaving chest.

He’s left assuming there definitely was back talking on the short trip to the kitchen, glaring down at the innocent smiling standing beside a steaming cup of coffee.

“Still grounded.”

Fritz makes a few motions before suddenly going stiff, eyes locked on the hand reaching for the rightfully earned drink, looking as if he’ll rocket back into the air at any moment.

More specifically, if David makes a move to grab him.

Right. That is going to take some used to. The fact the redhead was easily put into a pocket of all things with however long it took to get out by himself. David could do a lot with just how vulnerable Fritz currently is, even if he’s able to fly and burn retinas out if stared at for too long.

“So,” he begins. Not at all noticing the coffee machine is about the size of a house compared to his charge. “How long has this been going on for.”

There’s a very slow and sheepish air drawing of a horizontal eight large enough for David to comprehend.

The moment he understands and he’s choking on the hot coffee.

”Forever!”

Fritz winces as he nods.

David forces himself not to scream at the complete dumbass for not telling him. Not thinking it’d be a good idea to say the teenager can suddenly become a piece of firework that decided to do its own thing? Or would it be the other way around and just come out to say he’s not human.

“Then what the hell are-?”

His phone lets Fritz mask the complete terror written all over his face as the question became clear. And while he really wants to address it, not answering a call from Scott means he gets a visit from Vincent. He will not house two supernatural things in his house at once, thank you.

“What’d I mess up this time?”

“Is Fritz with you?”

David glances over at said redhead as Scott’s voice quickly catches his attention. The business man then flinches as his own personal wireless lightbulb suddenly shoots up to hover in front of his face.

“Depends on why you want him,” is snipped back to give him a moment to shoo at the shooting star before covering the receiver. “Do you mind turning your brightness down a little?”

Fritz seems to sputter before the glow making him seem more like a puffball of light dims to something closer to the shape of a human teenager. It’s not as soft as when he’s standing on solid ground, but at least the scowl and mouthed word ‘brightness’ can be seen.

“He’s not answering his phone,” Scott huffs. “Eggs has been trying to call him, but he couldn’t call you to check on him because you blocked him-”

“And I’m not unblocking him after being spammed one letter at a time to spell ‘supercalifragilisticexpialidocious’.”

“-so he asked me to make sure Fritz hasn’t been clawed by Baby.”

David will admit, he thinks Fritz would actually prefer the other scenario instead of eavesdropping on certain conversations as an electric spark. Instead of asking though, he gives a questioning look toward his slightly confused charge. “Do you have your phone on you?”

A nod is given as what he thinks is a phone is taken out of a pocket to show. A moment passes before he offers his palm, staring as a microscopic rectangle is hesitantly placed on his fingertips. Lightly nudging it and he can only safely say the screen works.

Well that doesn’t help him.

“Are there any missed calls?”

Fritz shakes his head definitively, shrugging to say he doesn’t know why they haven’t come through.

“Well he’s safely at the house,” David says.

“Any reason why he’s not answering?”

Green eyes widen in panic, his half-screwed Christmas light frantically trying to say he doesn’t want Scott to be told the truth. They both know the eldest guard will find out later but telling him now would have him show up at the Harrison residence within the hour. And if he panics between coming over and arriving, a certain Mutated Grape would join as well.

“Hmm, I took it for a little bit,” the business man shrugs. He quickly offers said phone back up to Fritz, however. No way in hell will he be responsible over something he can’t see properly without a magnifying glass.

Scott makes a disapproving noise. “So you panicked both Eggs and I for no reason?”

“Him talking to that insane thing is plenty reason to take it away for a day or two,” earns a look from Fritz there will be retaliation if that ever actually happens. Which means the phone will be confiscated once it’s not able to be lost with a small breeze.

“Can you at least tell us next time?”

David grins. “That’s not included in my guardian duties. By the way, on a completely unrelated note, would you mind calling everyone for an emergency meeting tonight?”

The older goes silent long enough the phone is checked to make sure the call as suddenly cut. Nope, still going and just passing the three-minute mark.

“David, where’s Fritz?”

Their eyes meet at the realization he fucked up.

“Right next to me. I said it’s for completely unrelated reasons!”

“Put him on the phone,” and Scott sounds like he’s barely controlling his panic damn it.

“This is your fault,” David hisses, pointedly ignoring the uncontrolled brightening and dimming of Fritz’s glow as he hovers around the phone. “I think I informed you he’s currently grounded from the phone. That includes mine as well.”

“David, if you lost him, it’s fine.”

“I did not!”

“He’s finally being a real teenager, sneaking out of house after being grounded for the hundredth time,” Scott continues as his ‘dad voice’ starts making an appearance. This day keeps getting better and better. He didn’t have nearly a long of a nap to deal with this. “But if he left his phone at home and got lost-”

“He’s fine he’s literally right here!”

“Then give him the phone. Now.”

That’s when David shuts up. Something he really should’ve done a while ago. Unfortunately it doesn’t do exactly what he wants, Scott yelling ‘God damn it!’ before hanging up.

“Huh,” the business man murmurs, a hint of pride slipping into his voice. “I think you gave the fossil a heart attack.”

Fritz suddenly explodes with light like a fuse blew, David jerking back before realizing his charge is vibrating in place, looking at if he’s about to ricochet off every wall in the house.

That’s when he claps his hands around the redhead like he’s an irate bug.

“Okay. Plan B.”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

#FNAF bois #g/t #giant #tiny #shrinking #and glowing #i'm having so much fun with this #especially with the part of comparing Fritz to every eletronic possible #On The Fritz #writing #BTE writing

[warrenwilkinson]

I think I was wrecked all along

TIME: August 15th, 2022 PLACE: Warren’s suite BETWEEN: Maya ( @msmayaparker ) & Warren NOTES: Written on Discord.   Title from here

Maya sat curled up on the couch in Warren's room with Hermes curled up beside her. Abandoned and cold on the table was room service that one of the security guys had sent up. Written in careful handwriting was a note that he had noticed she didn't seem to have eaten anything during his whole shift and so had dropped by the kitchen on his way home. She felt bad for not eating it, but she wasn't hungry. She hadn't been hungry since she'd stumbled into James Walden. Her blonde hair, slightly greasy for lack of a shower, was piled up on top of her head. She wore one of Warren's shirts and a pair of her own jeans. It made her feel closer to him. She was trying not to think about how pathetic that probably was. Her face and neck were clean of makeup. The bags under her dulled green eyes were more noticeable than usual. For the past two hours, she had been trying to read the same page of the book in her hand. As of yet, she hadn't been able to intake any of the text.

The sound of the door opening brought her back to life. Her head shot up, hand going to her phone. Hermes jumped off the couch, placing himself between her and what he recognized as the dangerous smelling man coming in. Maya, on the other hand, couldn't be sure who was walking in.

Warren was still struggling to go back to his human-like self. The fog and trance he felt when his true self took over still felt heavy in his mind. It had been too long since he had acted on his impulses like that, and it had reminded him of how much he loved and missed the violence and chaos. How one killing hadn’t been close enough to satisfy his thirst for blood.

He was trying too hard to push past that itching need to lash out again. To let his natural violence to take over that he didn’t notice Maya’s energy as soon as he parked the car. It was good he had taken it cause he probably would’ve caused a commotion if someone saw him walking down the streets all blood stained.

As soon as he opened the room, he frowned sensing a presence and when the dog placed itself between them in a defensive posture. It made War bare his teeth and let out a soft growl, trying to make the dog stay down. His eyes unfocused and still with the light orange glow in them when he finally looked up and found Maya there. His heart pounding in his chest with an unfamiliar sense of panic that she would see him like this. He closed his eyes and shook his head lightly, wanting to focus and push through the haze, “Maya? I thought you were at your place,” he said in a contained tone, still not sounding entirely like himself.

As Warren walked into the room, Maya felt four things at the same time. The first was relief that it was Warren. The second was concern for him, seeing as he was covered in blood. The third was fear that he was angry with her for coming with how he growled at Hermes and the tone of his voice when he spoke to her. The last was frustration as Hermes growled back, warning the dangerous smelling man from coming closer to her. For his part, the dog wasn't about to back down.

She swallowed as concern and fear won out over the other feelings. "I feel safer here," she said, "I'm sorry." She stood from the couch. "Are you okay? You're covered in blood," she said, as if he could not know that somehow. Maya took a few hesitant steps towards Warren. She wanted to reach out and touch him but wasn't sure he wanted her to. Her green eyes searched his form, looking for any signs of injury and trying to understand what happened. He didn't seem like himself. She remembered seeing those flashes of orange in his eyes when he was particularly angry. Her mind raced, going over everything that had happened in the last few days to assess if he was angry with her. It was probably related to whatever had also caused him to be covered in blood, but she couldn't help but worry.

War looked at the dog in the eyes, his own still gleaming with that dangerous hue, warning the dog not to challenge him, “Stay down,” he ordered dryly. Not close at all to the soft tone Warren always used with Hermes.

The tone of her voice cut through the haze easily, making Warren look back at her immediately, blinking a few times, trying his best to focus on her. The way she said she felt safe there. In his place. It made his hear swell and it help him refocus on her. Momentarily forgetting of what he had done. That until she mentioned the blood and he looked down at himself, “I’m fine… it’s not my blood,” he said but immediately regretted it cause she was gonna ask who’s blood it was. He felt his stomach dropping cause the one thing he didn’t want to find about was the one he was gonna have to tell her himself.

He took a step back when she tried to get closer to him. He didn’t want Walden’s disgusting blood to touch her. That man had stained her enough, “don’t… I-I…” he had never stuttered around her. He was always confident and certain on what to say but his mind was still riled up with adrenaline and Erik’s words were still echoing there. “Let me clean up first, ok?” he asked with concern all over his face.

Like his human, Hermes wasn't about to stay down just because he was told to. Especially when someone he cared about was in danger. He remembered the dangerous smelling man and the man smelled the same. But there was something unsafe about him at the moment, something his doggy mind translated as Maya needing protection from. He didn't growl again. Nothing in his countenance though relaxed.

She watched with concern as he blinked. Her concern for him was quickly becoming the dominant emotion in her heart. When he said that it wasn't his blood, her brow furrowed. She took another step forward, wanting to help. As he took a step back though, she froze. It all clicked into place. There hadn't been a business trip. Warren had hurt James Walden, possibly killed him. Because of her, to protect her because she had made it very clear she couldn't protect herself. Warren had promised to take care of it and now she was certain he had. She swallowed, more emotions blooming inside of her.

For the moment, Maya pushed those feelings aside. Warren's distress was obvious. She had to do something, especially when it was her fault. "Let me help," she said, "Please, let me take care of you."

Warren felt a lot more focused after hearing Maya’s worried tone. He looked back at Hermes and winced when he realized the dog could tell he wasn’t quite himself int hat moment, “I’m sorry, buddy,” he said in a softer tone this time, keeping his distance form both the dog and Maya.

He could tell the moment Maya put two and two together. He swallowed hard and closed his hands into fists before looking at her in the eyes, fear, and regret all over his green eyes. Not for what he had done to that disgusting man, but for what he had done many centuries ago and for had lying to her, “I’m sorry…. I had to,” he said in a whisper.

“No… please… I don’t want this to stain you,” he said taking another step back, “you had enough of him… you don’t need this,” he insisted, “Just, let me clean up and I’ll come back to you,” he said meaning it in more than one way, “I’m not… I need a moment,” he tried to explain, “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he swallowed hard again, disgusted with the possibility.

When the dangerous smelling man apologized, Hermes growled softly. He wasn't quick to forgive. Especially when he could sense his human was still worried. The dangerous smelling man had so far been safe.

Maya could see Warren's regret but wasn't sure exactly what it was for. Particularly as he said that he had to. It confirmed to her that James Walden was dead. That brought a sense of relief she would hate herself for later. She laughed bitterly when Warren said he didn't want her to be stained helping him clean up. "Bit late for that, I think," she said. She stayed where she was though, watching and heart breaking as he took a step back from her. Shaking her head, Maya argued with a voice barely above a whisper, "I need you." She wished he would let her help him.

She swallowed. She wasn't sure what the best thing to do was. "Okay," she whispered, "I'll stay here." All she wanted was to make it better for him, to make this easier.

Warren felt the sting of the dog’s distrust. He knew Hermes could probably see thought him and recognize that he was not ok at all and that he wasn’t safe enough to be close to Maya in that very moment, so he kept his distance.

He growled more unconsciously than not when she said it was late cause Walden had already stained her, “But not again, not anymore,” he said in a contained tone. Hearing the tone of Maya’s voice almost made him gave in and pull her into a hug but he just couldn’t get himself to move, “I know… I need you too but I’m not safe right now,” he said not wanting her to see more of that monster in him.

“Thank you,” he said letting out a breath he was holding when she finally agreed to wait for him, so he moved to the bathroom and closed the door. Something he didn’t usually do whenever Maya was around and that it had led to many shower sex session but this time, he needed that time alone to clear his head. He threw his bloody stained clothes into the bin and stood under the cold water, letting it wash over the blood on his skin along with he remains of his past-self clinging into his mind. The coldness helping him sober up enough that when he finished and looked himself into the mirror, his eyes were back to the normal green of his vessel’s eyes. He dried up and wrapped a towel around his waist, coming out form the bathroom with a tired expression, “I’m sorry… I wasn’t… that was,” he sighed unsure of how to explain it, “I had to clear my mind,” he said still keeping some distance from her and Hermes.

Maya wasn't sure it worked like that. Maybe James Walden wouldn't hurt her again, but she didn't know if the stain would ever be gone. She swallowed. As he told her that he wasn't safe, she bit her lip. Despite sensing that there was something off about him, she didn't believe for a second that Warren would hurt her. He might be dangerous, but he wasn't dangerous to her. She respected what she read as a desire for personal space though, instead wrapping her arms around herself.

After watching him disappear into the bathroom, and shut the door, she sat back down on the couch. Her abandoned book, she placed on the side table. She then curled in on herself, hugging her knees to her chest. As she waited for him, mind churning with scenarios, Maya unconsciously made herself as small as she could. She tried not to let her thoughts spin out of control. Eventually, he emerged from the bathroom. He kept his distance. Her green eyes swept over his body, looking for injury. He was physically okay, it seemed. "Do you want me to go?" she asked.

Warren was finally feeling like himself. Or at least his more human self. Seeing Maya like that, worried, scared, hurt made his heart clench in his chest, feeling guilty for making her feel like that. He shook his head when she asked if he wanted her to leave, “Never,” he said moving a bit closer, cautious about Hermes’ reaction. He sat by the end of the bed and offered his hand to Maya. Letting her be the one to choose if she wanted to be close to him. “I’m really sorry I lied to you,” he said in a guilty tone, “I knew you’d stop me if you knew what I was planning to do. I wanted to keep you safe and away from this whole mess,” he admitted looking at her in the eyes so she could see he meant every single word.

Hermes watched him come closer carefully. He smelled better. In his body language, Hermes read the signs of submission, the human equivalent of rolling over and showing his belly. Still, the Bernese Rottie stayed close to Maya. He could sense too the concern rolling off her in waves. Being a dog though, he couldn't quite understand where it was coming from.

For her part, Maya watched with gentle concern and confusion as he sat down. She could see the guilt in Warren's expression, but still wasn't sure what it was for. Her mind was still formulating hypothetical situations to explain his distressed and bloodied arrival. When he offered his hand, she didn't take it. She was too focused on trying to parse out his words to notice. He was sorry he lied to her but felt like he'd had to. She would've stopped him if she knew what he was planning to do. Suddenly, all the scenarios where things just got out of hand dropped away. Warren had killed James Walden on purpose, with intention because of her, for her. Well, maybe not for her exactly. She was relieved that he was dead and couldn't hurt anyone else ever again. But she hadn't wanted him killed. She never would've asked for that. She was safe. She had been. After all, she was an adult now and protected. There was nothing that man could've done to her now. Nothing that wasn't partially her own fault. "Planning to do?" she asked, "What do you mean? What happened?" Maya was pretty sure she knew, but she wanted to hear it from him, hear the whole story and not just the vague sketch she'd come up with.

Warren was glad that Hermes wasn’t so defensive anymore when he came closer. If the dog had shown any signs of distress, he would’ve backed off, but it looked like Hermes could sense the change in him.

It hurt when Maya didn’t take his hand. He could feel panic start setting in the pitch of his stomach. What if this had ruined everything? What if his actions had been the turning point for Maya to leave him? He swallowed hard and kept his eyes down, not wanting her to see the fear in them. He didn’t want to answer. He never wanted her to know how dark and twisted his mind was and specially how bad it got whenever his true self took over. As much as he didn’t want to tell her, he knew she wouldn’t let it go. He could keep it as simple as possible, but she would know. “The moment I saw you when I arrived at the library, I knew what I had to do. He was not gonna live much longer,” he admitted, “He deserved every single thing I did to him… he deserve even worse when he confessed what he did to you and others… when he spoke of all those disgusting things in his head…” he gritted his teeth, “He only said he was sorry when the pain started… he didn’t regretted what he did,” he still didn’t dare to look at her, “neither do I. He deserved worse of what I did,” he assured still not giving her any further details of how horribly and painfully James Walden had died.

Maya watched him carefully. Aside from concern, her expression didn't betray anything else. Although, he wasn't looking at her anyway. The idea that Walden had hurt others, that she could've done more to stop him, made her sick to her stomach. As for the rest of it, she wasn't sure how to feel. She couldn't bring herself to be sorry he was dead or even that he had suffered. Maybe that made her a bad person. It probably did. The fact that Warren had been the one causing that pain though she didn't love. He was the embodiment of War though and he had warned her that he had hurt people before. She'd thought it was in the past, long in the past. He didn't seem happy that he had done it. Or maybe he only wasn't happy to tell her.

She swallowed. She couldn't help but wonder if it was her fault. Maybe, she shouldn't have said anything. After all, she had been dealing with the fallout on her own for years. And she had been fine. Mostly. Maybe, she shouldn't have called Warren to pick her up. Maybe if she just hadn't been so weak. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say to that," Maya said finally. She didn't. In fact, she still didn't know how to feel about it.

Warren realized it was important for her to know that this hadn’t been a rushed decision and tht he would’ve done it sooner or later. “The only thing that kept me from killing him sooner was the spell,” he admitted. “When you first told me about him, I did some research. I fond out where he was and what he had been up to lately. I couldn’t leave town to hunt him, and I even considered getting my team to bring him here… but then being with you was more important,” he swallowed hard, “then he came here and he decided to go after you,” he looked up at her and the light gleam of orange was back, “I wasn’t gonna let him keep hurting you…” that probably explained why he knew exactly who the man was as soon as he arrived to the store.

He was sure he had just made everything worse and that maybe now Maya wouldn’t want to be around him. That now she had seen a glimpse of the monster he still was underneath that human façade, she would just run away from him, “You’re not supposed to say anything… you weren’t supposed to find out. You were supposed to go on with your life without knowing he was gone,” he said in a soft tone, “I made Erik promise you would never find out,” he said cause it was better for her to know the dragon had been involved, “I called him to help me get rid of the evidence,” he explained. He kept quiet for a moment and pulled his hand back, “I understand if you don’t want to be around me right now,” he hoped it was just for now, “I never meant to make things worse…”

Maya was going to vomit. What he had been up to lately. She couldn't help but imagine it, couldn't help but blame herself. Her hand came up to cover her mouth. She knew it wasn't ideal, that Warren would think she was disgusted with him. She had to get herself under control.

It was all more than she knew how to handle. This, she realized, was what Erik had been trying to warn her about.  Maya listened as Warren continued. He had done what she couldn't, made sure James Walden could never hurt anyone else. What he had been up to lately echoed in her head. She couldn't even start to process the rest of it. She was really going to vomit. "I'm sorry," she said, standing, "I just need..." She disappeared into the bathroom.

There, Maya went to her knees. Given she hadn't eaten anything, she only dry heaved. After a moment, she was able to stand again. She leaned against the bathroom doorframe. "I'm sorry," she said earnestly, "It's not you, I swear. It's...it's what he'd been up to lately." She swallowed, "That's my fault. I should've done more."

He noticed the way Maya’s expression dropped. She looked pale and sick, and it was impossible for Warren not to feel disgusted with himself for making Maya feel like that. He clenched his jaw and tried not to let it show how much it hurt.

Warren looked at her rush into the bathroom and even if he wanted to follow her, he knew he shouldn’t he knew it would make it worse. He knew he had just lost her. He rubbed his face in frustration, doing his best not to let the pain and fear bring out the worse of him.

It took him a moment to school his expression and look up when Maya came back. He frowned confused when she said it hadn’t been him who made her feel sick. He didn’t really believe it and he wouldn’t blame her; he was disgusted with himself so it wouldn’t surprised him if she was too. He sighed and nodded, “He hadn’t been near a child in a long time. After you left, someone reported him, and they took away the kid he was fostering. He never fostered another kid again,” he assured hoping that would sooth her fears even if it probably made him more of a monster. Even if Walden haven’t fostered more kids, he still preyed on young people. It was one of the many reasons why Warren had taken his time with him.

Even one was too many. Guilt soaked into her bones. It was her fault. The fact that someone had reported Walden that time, but no one had listened to her didn't help. She felt guilty for the slight jealousy that someone had believed that kid.

She had to stop focusing on that though. It was selfish to worry about her own feelings right now. Pushing off the edge of the doorframe, she closed it all up in a little box in her head. Maya crossed the room and sat on the bed next to Warren. She didn't sit quite as close to him as she usually did, still not sure if he needed space. After a deep breath, she shifted through all the things she'd been less focused on before. "I don't understand," she said, "you said you didn't regret doing it, but you've looked like you kicked a puppy since you came home. So why? Just because I found out?"

Warren tried not to flinch when Maya sat down still keeping some distance form him. He kept his eyes on the floor and both hands over his knees just waiting. It was a good sign that she hadn’t left right? Maybe she didn’t hate him so much. Maybe he hadn’t completely lost her.

He frowned at her question. He was upset that she had found out but that wasn’t it. It was so much more, and he didn’t know what would happen if she knew all of it. He sighed and looked at his hands. They were clean now. There were no stains of blood there but there was no doubt there was blood in them. Not one anyone but him could see. He had hurt so many with those hands. He felt them shaking and closed them into fists before answering, “It had been centuries since the last time I did what I did tonight…” he swallowed hard, “I didn’t want you to know…” he scoffed, “maybe I would have told you eventually but that you saw me like that,” he shook his head, “I never wanted you to see me like that,” he admitted still not looking at her. “The person you saw earlier it’s the real me,” he said in a defeated tone, “bloodthirsty, violent, vicious, brutal, cruel, heartless, sadistic… a fucking monster,” he chuckled bitterly, “how can I even deserve to be in the same room with you?” he asked looking at her with a broken expression.

Maya waited with a patience she'd never gifted herself. Her own fears and anxieties faded into the background as she listened. All she wanted was to make him feel better. She didn't know how to do that. It occurred to her, as she reached out for his hand, that maybe this was what it felt like to love someone, seeing their hands shake and reaching out with your own to hold them. As complicated as her feelings about the whole thing were, she was confident about the fact it didn't change how she felt about Warren. "You don't get to decide that. I get to decide that," she said softly, "And I'm not going anywhere." Whatever else it had been, it had been to protect her. It was her fault that he had given in to his former self for the first time in centuries that voice whispered.

He was surprised when Maya reached for his hand. He didn't think she would want to be near him. Even less to touch him. He smiled a bit at her words. He had told her the same once and he was thankful that she assured him that she wasn't going anywhere. He squeezed her hand and sighed, "thank you for not running from me," he said softly but unsure where they would be standing after this.

It seemed like a strange thing to thank her for. Not once since he'd walked in had she thought about running. She had only offered to leave because she thought he might want her to. She moved closer, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her forehead on his shoulder. Gently, she pressed her lips to his skin. "I never wanted to run," she explained, "I just want to make it easier for you."

Warren closed his eyes and sighed in relief when Maya wrapped her arms around him and moved closer. Automatically his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her closer, breathing in her calming scent, “You’re already doing it, sugar,” he murmured into her hair. It all felt too uncertain even after her words and he believed her. Maya wasn’t someone who’d do anything she didn’t want to, but now he was afraid of the side of him that had surfaced and who now was very conscious of Maya’s power over him. That probably meant Maya would be safer than ever, but the cost might be too high for those trying to hurt her.

For a long moment, Maya held him. She didn't know what else to do. She breathed in deeply. Cautiously, Hermes crossed the bed to join them. He laid his head between them, woofing softly. He could sense the change in the dangerous smelling man and could see how his human trusted the man. Finally, Maya said, "I'm sorry. If I had known all this would've happened, I wouldn't have said anything." At the time, on the beach, Maya had felt like it was important to tell Warren, to warn him of how fucked up she was. But maybe it had been selfish, maybe she just wanted to give someone else some of the weight. "Do you want something to eat?" she asked, "I think the kitchen's still open."

Warren sighed and reached to give Hermes a few pets, glad that he didn’t seem defensive of him anymore. He huffed at her apology, “Even if you haven’t had told me, I would have known and I would have done the same… I would do it a million times if it meant you’d be safe,” he assured, “it’s not your fault I am what I am,” he added for reassurance. He shook his head, “No, I’m not hungry,” he pulled away enough to press a kiss on the top of her hair, “I’m just a little tired,” he admitted even if he didn’t feel physically tired, but his head felt heavy, “you staying?” he asked almost shyly.

Maya huffed a soft and bitter laugh. "You'd be the first," she said, almost without thinking about it. No one had ever known about Walden. Even at the time, few people had asked and those that did believed whatever lie she told about it. Her expression softened when Warren promised he would protect her, seemingly whatever the cost. She believed him, especially now. But she wondered if maybe she shouldn't be quicker to tell him he didn't have to, if maybe she shouldn't like that promise. There had clearly been a high cost to Warren for protecting her and for Walden, of course. "It's my fault I completely fell apart when I saw him, that I still needed protecting," she argued.

She nodded. "Yeah, just let me brush my teeth," Maya replied. She stood and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving the door open. As she brushed her teeth, she glanced at herself in the mirror. The dark circles under her eyes were more pronounced than usual. She had to take better care of herself. When she walked back into the bedroom, she gave a quiet smile and asked, "Bed?"

He smiled a bit before answering, “I have no problem being your first as many times as possible,” he almost sounded completely like himself again with that small tease. He reached to grab her chin gently between his thumb and index to make her look at him, “Never apologize for the damage others caused you. It’s not your fault and there’s nothing grown about falling apart sometimes… healing is not a lineal process, Maya,” he assured in a soft tone.

“Ok,” he agreed as he left the bed to get dressed in just boxers and a shirt, sitting back on the mattress waiting for Maya to come back, “yeah,” he smiled tiredly and moved to pull the covers and get on the bed, leaving space for both Maya and Hermes to join them, “Did you eat something?” he asked now his senses were back on focusing on her wellbeing.

The corner of her mouth lifted when he teased her. It meant underneath all the complicated feelings they were okay. When he tried to pull her gaze up to his, Maya couldn't help but try squirm out of his grasp. Despite her face being tilted to his, she didn't lift her eyes. It still felt like her fault. There had to be something wrong with her. She drove men to violence. Or maybe violent men gravitated towards her. Either way it was something about her. Something broken and wrong in her that meant she didn't feel much better James Walden was dead now too. He had taken root in her head a long time ago.

Crawling into bed with him did make her feel better. Hermes leapt onto the foot of the bed and curled up. She gave him a tired smile, "I'm all good." She didn't think he had noticed all the long cold food in the living room when he'd come in. She opened her arms to him, inviting him to rest his head on her chest. After all, she was safe and protected.

It hurt that she didn’t look at him when he spoke. It made him feel that she couldn’t bear to look at him yet. That she was still disgusted with what he was and what he had done but he didn’t say anything or push. He simply released her chin and let her move to the bathroom.

Warren smiled a bit when Hermes climbed on the bed and curled up comfortably. That was a good sign at least. When Maya opened her arms and invited him to get closer, he hesitated for a moment cause he didn’t feel like he deserved the comfort. He should be the one comforting her, not the other way around. His hesitation came from all the years he hadn’t allowed himself to be so vulnerable around someone else. It took him a few heartbeats before crawling next to her, pressing his head against her chest as his arms wrapped around her waist as he let out a shuddering breath, “I’m sorry,” he murmured softly.

It was ironic maybe, the way they both thought they weren't good enough. She didn't feel like she could look at him, not when this was her fault. He had gone for centuries without giving in to that side of himself. Not until her.

Maya swallowed, unsure when he hesitated. Maybe he didn't want to be near her. Maybe he was realizing she was right. She chewed the inside of her bottom lip, trying not to look nervous. When he accepted her invitation, she sighed in relief. One arm wrapped around him while she let her other hand card gently through his hair. She felt him breathe against her. "Just don't lie to me again," she said. She hadn't forgotten about that. He had lied to her after all. She stared up at the ceiling, determined not to cry. She might be bad for him. She might love him, and she might be bad for him. It felt like her heart was breaking.

#Para: Maya #Para: I think I was wrecked all along #mentions of murder tw #mentions of child abuse tw #mentions of blood tw #mentions of violence tw #insecurities tw #mentions of vomit tw #paras