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sortagaysortahigh · 2 years

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Maneater | Steve Harrington

A/N: besties i was gonna post this sooner but i had to let my drunk fade away, anyways i present to you sub!steve (season four steve to be exact bc he is so fucking MMM MMMM MMMMMMMMM), also had to make the reader a lil punk rock bitch ok

Summary: “I thought she’d be like mean and shy but not she wasn’t shy at all-she’s like-she’s like a man eater-Definitely an apex predator if I’ve ever seen one. Steve she was looking at you like she wanted to eat you”

Warnings: so much smut but theres plot!, cussing, spelling and grammar errors, kissing, spitting, hand jobs, crying, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving/giving), P in V sexy time, praising, degrading, marking, biting, sub!steve + dom!reader

Word Count: 9k (way more than i thought there would be like jfc the plot came out the cut, then the smut is like omg ok bitch period)

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

(JUST LOOK AT HIM OH MY FUCKING GODS DGSDHGHSDGHSDHGHIRDSHIG MY COOCHIE)

Steve Harrington was a lot of things, and as of late a ladies man was not one of them. Sure he could get dates now that he actually listened to the advice that Robin gave him, however he wanted more than just meaningless hookups and dates with girls who could barely hold a conversation. He wanted a relationship, craved the closeness and intimacy of it all, he wanted a best friend and a lover in one, but somehow day by day he lost hope that he’d find that in Hawkins.

That was until he laid eyes on Y/n Y/l/n. He remembered her from highschool-solely because she hung out with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson and his group of metalhead losers-granted now Steve didn’t consider them losers, after all he did experience a large amount of character growth throughout his senior year of high school. He’d still won prom king though.

People knew Y/n, not because she was stereotypically popular, but because she was a hot commodity-people wanted her but she let a very select few get that-hell Steve knew exactly zero people who’d managed to get past her mean facade-or get past the layers of black, denim, leather, and eyeliner.

The girl was attractive-that much was a fact. Guys always talked about wanting to see “if she was as freaky as the shit she’s into”-something that Steve usually brushed off, ignoring them due to his relationship status alongside his social status. He had English with her, and for their Shakespeare analysis project she’d been partnered with Tommy H. The same Tommy H. decided to brag about sleeping with her for two weeks after the project was presented-that was until she’d smashed his front windshield with a baseball bat in the school parking lot during lunch-then he admitted to lying about it-she was suspended for two weeks.

However Steve wanted more than to sleep with her-there was something else to her-something he’d noticed the day she walked into the Family Video with Max Mayfield in tow. While Max said her hellos to Steve and Robin, Y/n looked around the comedy section-a shock to Steve as he expected her to be a Horror kind of girl. That’s when he realized that there was always more than meets the eye.

She worked at the arcade next door to his job, and after cornering Lucas and Dustin he found out that she was rather close to Max, the redhead had gone to the Arcade often-trying to find a distraction while she grieved her brother’s death-and Y/n just happened to be the one on the mid-day shift.

Lucas and Dustin did a horrible job explaining her friendship with Max, however from what they did know she was the only person Max found herself talking to-telling her about the things she was going through-and opening up to. In a way Y/n filled in the role of an older sister for Max, and when she found out some of the Junior and Senior boys at Hawkins were trying to bully Max, while simultaneously bringing up her douchebag brother’s death she did not hesitate to show up to the high school, bat in tow.

Everyone knew Y/n wasn’t afraid of being arrested-she’d been arrested more than once, Hopper letting her off the hook each and every time because the missing Sheriff-supposedly deceased which Y/n did not believe-had a soft spot for her. After all, the girl was just a troubled teen-and she found her way by standing up for herself by any means necessary.

All Y/n had to do was speed into the parking lot, get out of the black Monte Carlo with her bat in hand and make her way towards the convertible full of jocks-some she remembered others she asked Eddie about-and hop on top of the front hood. She pointed the bat at the boys, a smile on her face, black lipstick perfectly applied as she smiled down at them.

She only said two sentences: “You see that pretty little redhead over there-Max-yeah talk to her again and I’ll personally knock your teeth in” followed by “Nod your empty little heads if you understand me”, then got off the car, knocking the bat into the hood, leaving a sizable dent before blowing them a kiss and walking off. Of course the teenage boys tried to explain what had happened at lunch-however the beauty of it being the Fall of 1985 was that there were no active security cameras monitoring the outside of the buildings and because the boys were all bullies-there were no other witnesses to prove their case.

After it happened Dustin explained the entire scene to Steve, Robin excitedly nodding along while mumbling about how badass Y/n looked, then going on a tangent about how pretty the girl was-all the while Steve found himself thinking more and more about her.

Then a week later he finally saw her in the parking lot, the two pulling into work at the same time. She stepped out of the black car wearing a black The Ramones baggy shirt tucked into a pair of black frayed denim shorts, ripped fishnets on her legs, her voluminous hair framed her face. He watched as she slid her black sunglasses off, eyes adorned with black eyeliner and messy eyeshadow, lips lined with black, colored red.

From that moment he was Smitten. She was the pretty, mean, punk rock girl that worked behind the Arcade counter and he wanted nothing but her.

The only problem was that Y/n Y/l/n did not like Steve Harrington. The minute she spotted him staring at her all she did was raise a brow, before telling him to “fuck off pretty boy”. But even then the way she said ‘pretty boy’ made him blush and he thought about it all day.

All of that happened four months ago, it was now January and he was still smitten. He’d see her walking into work, and occasionally when he’d close so would she. He’d see her walk through the front doors of the Arcade, locking it up, and he would wait in his car in the parking lot, looking around, making sure she was safe before she got into her car and sped off. That was also something he’d noticed about her-the girl drove as if she was training for a NASCAR race.

He’d noticed a lot about her, and anytime she caught him staring to any capacity she’d repeat the same four words “fuck off pretty boy”. Sometimes she’d add more, always something along the lines of “Can I do something for you Harrington?” or “Don’t you have VHS tapes to rewind?” whatever it was-it was always sarcastic-and that had Steve in too deep.

So deep that in fact once he found himself asking Max what kind of flowers he thought Y/n would like while the fifteen year old was in the Family Video, finding a rental for their weekly movie night-to which Max replied with “I don’t know-why don’t you ask her you weirdo”.

That was the last time he asked Max anything about Y/n.

Some days he was positive there was something else in the way that Y/n looked at him, a glint in her eye-something floating through her piercing gaze-then suddenly it’d be gone when she’d flash him her middle finger before walking into her job, Arcade vest in hand.

“Steve, you cannot be serious right now! You want to ask Y/n out? Y/n Y/l/n? She wants nothing to do with you! No offense dude but I don’t think you’re her type” he scoffed at Robin's words, taking his eyes off the road for a second to glance at his best friend, mouth agape and brows furrowed in shock.

“You really think that lowly of me?” Robin laughed, nodding her head “She’s like this totally cool, hot, punk rock chick and you’re a guy who probably owns more hairspray than does! You two are like polar opposites, you were prom king and she smashed car windows with a baseball bat!” he scoffed again, shaking his head a few times while he focused on the road ahead, turning the steering wheel as he pulled into the parking lot in front of their job.

“Oh come on! You really don’t think I have a chance?” Robin tilted her head, brows knit in concentration while she pursed her lips inward before nodding her head a few times “I’d say you have a .0001% chance with her” just as Steve was about to respond, he noticed Y/n’s car speed into the parking lot which was definitely more packed than usual.

Then she pulled into the spot next to his, her window tint not dark enough to disguise the way that she grabbed her Arcade uniform vest-screaming into it-then closing her eyes, taking a few deep breaths. Steve’s lips were parted as he watched her-mesmerized by the simplest of actions-granted he’d never really seen much out of her past her being mean, cussing him out, and the few soft moments she had when she was with Max, the two laughing in an aisle of the video rental store.

He was dazed-so much that when she turned her head to open her door she caught his stare, immediately giving him a dirty look as she rolled her eyes, then her gaze flickered to Robin who was now looking at her as well, so she flashed the girl a closed mouth smile, then she gathered her things and got out of her car, shutting the door and locking it before making her way towards the front door of her dreaded job.

Before Robin could make any comments Steve practically jumped out of the car, calling Y/n’s name as he sped walk towards her-by the time he shouted her name a second time and she stopped in her tracks to turn and face him he was only a few feet away from him.

He’d taken a few moments to trail his eyes along her moving figure while she walked, today she had on a pair of black thin stockings-the tops of them slightly showing, accompanied by a black leather miniskirt-something he questioned due to the forty degree weather outside, but he guessed her black knit sweater and oversized leather blazer were evening out her body temperature.

When she turned to face him he practically lost his train of thought-eyes focused on hers while she stared at him, the thick black eyeliner and shadow around her eyes only accentuated them-an expectant look on her face while she slightly shook her head, a brow raised.

“Pretty boy I don’t have all day. Speak-I’m waiting” the slight dominance in her tone was bringing heat through Steve’s body-his cheeks flushing slightly as he nodded his head a few times with his lips parted as if he was about to speak but he couldn’t get the words out.

After a few more seconds of looking like a lost puppy he finally blinked, nodding his head “Yeah uh-hey-so I was wondering if you were free-uh maybe tonight? After your shift” she blinked a few times, furrowing her brows before smirking at him. “Are you asking me on a date, pretty boy?”

There it was again, the underlying dominance-something he wasn’t used to-something that had his mind melting. She was confident as she spoke, the smirk on her face made him want to get on his knees and worship her, not to mention the way that she shifted her weight to one foot, one hand holding her black leather bag and uniform vest, the other near her face-one finger resting against her bottom lip as she lightly brought the black acrylic nail between her teeth as she smiled.

But the glint in her eye was evident.

“Uh-uh yeah-yeah I am” she nodded her head “and where do you plan on taking me hmm?” her tone was almost degrading, it made his already melting mind feel fuzzy while she spoke to him. “Any-Anywhere you wanna uh-go” she moved her nail from between her teeth, now puckering her lips slightly, finger tapping against them while she mimicked a thinking expression.

“Seeing as I close the rest of this week-and based on the fact that you and her are just getting here-you do too-nothing’s open after we leave work Pretty boy. So where’s that leave us?” Steve so desperately wanted to say ‘your place or mine’ but he knew that she’d just scoff and walk away, that was the only thought he had, he had no other real answer so when he turned into a stuttering blubbering mess she smiled before shushing him.

“I can think of a place-or two you could take me-but what do you wanna do huh?” At this point she stepped closer to him, the same confidence in her voice and she sounded so sultry-Steve couldn’t tell if it was because he was a blushing dizzy mess, or if this was actually happening.

Before he could respond she simply patted him on the chest twice-then she gripped his denim jacket-tugging him a little closer “Cat got your tongue Pretty Boy?” with that she let go, turning around and walking off-the cocky smile now on her face.

Robin got out of the car, wide eyed, jaw dropped, mouth gaping like a fish out of water while she stared at Steve who was still staring in Y/n’s direction, his hand now on his chest where hers was while he processed everything that just happened.

“Are you serious?! She’s so into you? How is she into you?! Steve C’mon” with that Robin quickly grabbed the keys from the car, locking her door then running to the drivers side and locking it before running towards Steve-grabbing his sleeve and pulling him with her into the Family Video where their co-worker Ryan was already clocking out-the older man not saying a single word to the two as they got behind the counter.

Steve was still stunned at everything while Robin smacked his arm excitedly.

“I don’t know how you did it Steve-but she’s so into you! I mean did you see the way she was looking at you! She was laying it on thick” Robin rambled while she took their time sheets, clocking the two of them in “I thought she’d be like mean and shy but not she wasn’t shy at all-she’s like-she’s like a man eater-Definitely an apex predator if I’ve ever seen one. Steve she was looking at you like she wanted to eat you” he blinked a few times, processing Robin's words.

However his mind was still fuzzy, and his filter was long gone by the time the words left his lips “I wanna eat her out” Robin gagged slightly, a look of horror on her face now “TMI Harrington! TMI!”

In the building next door Y/n sat in the worn red stool behind the counter, chewing gum while she thought about Steve. Sure she knew Steve in high school-he was a douchebag, he was mister popular, the star of the show, prom king himself. She hated his friends, especially Tommy-God she was so glad that she’d smashed his windshield in. But she always knew Steve was different-he wasn’t as much of a prick, he wanted to be popular, wanted to fit in, so he stuck to those that were popular.

Then something changed their senior year-after he’d broken up with Nancy Wheeler-he wasn’t the same, hell he changed for the better. That wasn’t enough for Y/n to want to associate with him though, she liked her friends, she liked Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and the rest of the Hellfire club-hell she designed their shirts.

But now things had changed, they were out of school, still living in their hometown, working next door to one another, and she had to admit, his continuous pinning was cute. The way he’d stare at her, the way he would stay late to make sure she got in her car safe, and the way that he’d always have a deep red blush on his cheeks anytime she called him Pretty Boy-that blush made her mind wander, she wanted to see him blushing, see his chest rapidly rising and falling, see him flustered, a stuttering flushed mess-that’s how she wanted to see him.

That’s what she wanted to do to him. However she was never a fan of making the first move-mainly because people never really caught her eye. She wasn’t a virgin-that was a fact-but she wasn’t someone who enjoyed casual hookups often, she liked relationships, some days she missed having a partner-but other days she simply rolled her eyes and went about her day because relationships meant commitment and they also meant heartbreak.

Steve Harrington made her question that, he was a change of pace, she’d only had a few actual conversations with him, most of the time telling him to fuck off for staring too hard-but secretly under her hard exterior she loved the way he stared at her, and the way he payed attention to her. The way his eyes would rake across her figure, not in a ‘I wanna fuck you’ kind of way but more in a ‘you’re so beautiful’ kind of way. She knew how to differentiate the two because of Steve-he was the only one who showed her the ladder.

She’d been waiting months for him to make a move, she was patient, and honestly she didn’t care-she wasn’t interested in anyone else nor did she feel the need to rush anything. She was content with her sex life and romantic life, of course being content didn’t mean she’d decline Steve Harrington’s head between her thighs.

Y/n spent her entire shift rolling her eyes at teenagers and kids, reluctantly helping them and acting as if she was doing something on the large computer at the front desk-rather she was just playing pong. She hadn’t spoken to many of her co-workers today, most of them walking around the arcade and working in the storage room, so her day was pretty simple and very boring. Her mind constantly floating back to the possibility of Steve actually making a move tonight.

Then it was time for her to close, everyone was already leaving while she finished sweeping, then she wiped the counters down and washed her hands, thankful one of her co-workers cleaned the bathrooms already. Finally she grabbed her things, and left through the front doors, locking them up-glancing to her left to see Steve standing there, leaning against the Family Video windows with his hands in his pockets-to most he would look relaxed and maybe even cool-but Y/n immediately noticed the way his chest was falling a little too fast.

He was nervous, and that lit a fire inside of her.

“So did you figure it out, Pretty Boy?” Steve practically jumped at the sound of her voice, he was too busy hyping himself up to notice Y/n locking up a few feet from her-and now he was embarrassed as she spoke to him. He expected her to stop a few feet away, but no, she walked until she was inches away from him, now slightly looking up at him, a smirk on her face while they held eye contact, one of her fingers gliding along the length of his denim jacket.

“I’m waiting for an answer” her degrading tone was back and it only made Steve blush even more, he bit his lip, eyes dropping from hers to her red lips, all the while his lips were slightly parted.

Steve Harrington had never in his life been this flustered. He usually did this to other people-he wasn’t used to the change of pace and yet he was melting under her touch. She moved her fingers, now gliding along the white sweater he wore below the jacket-he felt her apply a little more pressure-just enough to make her touch known. She was teasing him, luring him into her trap-and he was falling head first.

“Yours or mine?” was all he managed, he tried saying it with confidence but her gaze shot right through his facade, eyes still focused on her lips, now they were upturned in a wicked smile. She leaned closer to him, lips right next to his ear as she whispered “make sure you can keep up, Pretty Boy” with that she placed a gentle kiss right below his ear-and due to her close proximity she didn’t miss the small whimper that slipped past his lips.

She quickly moved, shooting him a wink while walking to her car, easily unlocking it and getting in-the sound of the car roaring to life was what reminded him that he had to follow her-so he ran to his car, nearly tripping on the way-then he got in and the second he was inside, she was pulling off.

To say that it felt like a game of cat and mouse was crazy-especially because Steve felt like a mouse chasing the cat. Hell he had no idea where she was taking him and for all he knew she might just be ritually sacrificing him under the moonlight.

But his doubts were gone by the time he pulled into a driveway behind her, the house was in the same neighborhood as Dustin’s place, she only lived four houses down-it surprised him that he never noticed. He was always here dropping him off and picking him up, and Y/n’s Monte Carlo was hard to miss, maybe he’d just been too wrapped up in his ‘adopted’ little brother to see it.

He shook his head while hyping himself up again, now was not a time to think of Dustin, he was about to hook up with Y/n Y/l/n-the girl of his dreams-literally he’d had more than one dream about her. However none of them had her as dominant as she seemed, they usually involved him holding her hands above her head, while he was above her. Occasionally she’d be riding him, other times he just dreamt of the sweet sweet sounds she would make while he laid between her thighs, her hands tugging at his hair.

The second she knocked on his car door window he blinked a few times, turning the car off before opening the door-she was thankful she stepped out of the way, this wasn’t the Steve Harrington she’d heard so much about-he was smooth and in charge-this Steve was awkward, nervous, and somehow kept tripping over his own feet.

He cleared his throat while she looked at him, a small smile on her face, and a devious look in her eye.

“Don’t worry Harrington, I’ll take good care of you” with that she grabbed his hand, and his heartbeat immediately quickened-hell it felt like it would beat out of his chest as he followed behind her. He watched as she unlocked the door with one hand, kicking it open as she twisted the knob, then they were inside.

For some reason he never thought of Y/n’s house-or of the fact that she probably lived with her family, he always just thought of her so when he followed behind her in the house he was somewhat taken aback. The warm hues of color throughout the furniture, the plants delicately placed and taken care of, alongside the framed photos-including Y/n’s graduation photos side by side with her kindergarten graduation photos.

He didn’t have much time to admire the house, instead she was guiding him upstairs, and he couldn’t help but focus his eyes on her ass, her skirt slightly sliding up as she walked-the material hugging her curves perfectly. It was driving him crazy.

Then she stopped in front of what he assumed to be her bedroom door, dropping his hand-now turning to face him. He was already flustered-she thought it was so cute-the way he stared at her while he blushed, unable to hold eye contact for more than a few seconds at a time.

“Tell me Pretty Boy, are you gonna let me take care of you tonight?” His mind was now a jumbled mess of Y/n, he didn’t have one coherent thought outside of her, so instead of responding and babbling, he simply nodded his head-lips apart while he stared at her. “Do me a favor-” as she spoke she trailed a finger along his jawline “-use your words”

“Y-yes” she raised a single brow “yes to what?” “I’ll let y-you t-take care of m-me” his stuttering made her smirk, with that she opened her door, easily pulling him inside-her strength somewhat surprised him but his gaze caught hold of her room, something he definitely didn’t expect. Much like the rest of the house it was decorated in warm tones, not a single black item anywhere-outside of the leather jacket placed on her desk chair, she had plants hanging near the large bay window, brightly colored pillows along it, the girl had stacks of books, she had dice sets on her desk, a singular small lamp on letting a dim red orange hue spread throughout the space, and a few paintings leaning against the wall next to her large mirror.

“Surprised? It’s called duality” she spoke as she watched his eyes scan the room, her voice snapping him back to her gaze, she looked at him expectantly, before cracking a smile.

“How long have you wanted me, Harrington?” he bit his bottom lip for a second “too long to tell” she nodded her head “aw, we’re gonna have fun huh? I wanna see you red and begging” his eyes widened at her words, her sweet tone a direct contrast in comparison to her words.

His lips parted now while he nodded his head, brows slightly raised, unable to say anything-watching as she took her blazer off, tossing it towards her closet-then her hands were back on his chest-both of them gliding along his jacket while she held eye contact with him. She slowly slid her hands under the denim, pushing it back until he finally took it off, throwing it elsewhere-too focused on her to care where his clothes ended up.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” he nodded his head “y-yes, an-anything” she smirked at that “All it takes is one little touch to get you dumb huh?” she spoke as she tugged at the hem of his sweater before sliding one hand under it, her cold fingertips against his warm abdomen, fingers tracing the toned muscles.

Steve's mind was a haze and she’d barely touched him, he would never live this down-even if it was just coming from himself.

“Take it off” she didn’t have to ask twice, it only took a few seconds for Steve to pull the Sweater over his head, revealing his toned chest, she smirked at the patches of hair along his chest, and the evident happy trail he sported “uh-I-sorry for the hair if it’s not your thing-” before he could continue rambling on Y/n shushed him.

“You’re so pretty Steve” she spoke as she glided a finger along his happy trail, resting it against the waistband of his hands, tugging on it slightly before hooking her finger onto it-all while she held eye contact with him.

He felt as if he was about to combust, his skin on fire while she looked at him as if she wanted to devour him. Her gaze had him holding back a whimper-and when she pushed him back against her bed he didn’t expect it-knees buckling over the edge of her frame as he fell flat onto the mattress. In the moment he was embarrassed-but then he watched as she easily pulled off her top, tossing it on the ground, a black lace bra holding her chest ever so perfectly.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost” her words were teasing as she straddled his lap, the evident bulge straining against his pants while she looked down at him, both hands now on his waist, thumbs slightly grazing his skin-back and forth.

His body was on fire-it had to have been on fire-she had to have tossed a match on the bed before pushing him into it. His mind was melting away as he tried to figure out how her subtle touches were sending him higher and higher up the ladder of sexual frustration. He was so turned on it hurt, and seeing her, looking down at him with the faux innocent look in her eyes as she sat on his lap-sat against him-it was enough to have him start begging.

“Tell me what you want Pretty Boy, tell me what you think about when you can’t take your eyes off me” his lips parted as she leaned lower, supporting herself on top of him, her face now less than a foot away from his. “I wanna hear it, I wanna know what you’re thinking about, what you wanna do to me” he swallowed hard, breath picking up slightly

“Y-you, fuck all of you, wanna kiss you and hold you, sh-shit” his words left his lips without a single thought, all rushed out and jumbled. She bit her bottom lip, a smile on her face now as she moved her hands off his waist, now placing one next to his head on the bed-she was in charge and he knew that.

“Yeah? You wanna make me feel good? Wanna feel me cumming around you?” he nodded his head, lost in her-it was like she was sending his senses into overdrive. “You think you deserve that? You think you deserve to touch me?” her degrading tone made him whimper while he nodded, she was quick to lean over, talking directly into his ear “I want you to beg for it, tell me how much you want me” with that she started peppering kisses along his neck, red lipstick stains on his skin before she started licking and sucking at his warm skin-sure to leave marks behind.

He couldn’t hold in the moan that slipped past his lips the second he felt her lightly bite against his skin-his hands now finding her waist-but when she stopped kissing him-he immediately moved his hands-somehow knowing what she was expecting. “C’mon Pretty Boy-let me take care of you” he let out another low moan at her words, her kisses now against his collar bone as she worked on leaving another mark against his tanned skin.

“Fuck-want you so bad, need you, God I need you so bad, I’ll do anything-please” she smirked, now moving back, her lipstick smudged while she looked at him, then she pressed her lips against his, it didn’t take long for him to kiss her back-one of her hands now on the side of his face as she deepend the kiss, sliding her tongue against his soft lips-slipping past them as he let her in.

She started moving her hips against his, he moaned into the kiss feeling her move-the friction giving him some sense of relief. The kiss only getting more heated the longer their lips stayed together, Steve poured everything he had into the kiss-all of his want-his desire-his everything, and she gladly took it.

When she moved apart she let out a whimper against his parted lips “do you wanna touch me? Wanna make me feel good?” he nodded his head “fuck please-please let me touch you” she smirked, nodding her head, his hands immediately on her exposed waist, then she winked before getting off of him-easily pulling at his arms-directing him to hold himself above her-and the second he did she was kissing him again, her hands now tugging at his belt loops-pulling his hips closers to hers while she parted her legs.

He was in heaven-this was it-he was in actual heaven.

She tugged on his hair-the feeling making him groan-then she did it again, a little harder this time-getting him to move back-but his blood was flowing south. He panted while he sat above her-in this moment he knew she was in charge-regardless of the position-regardless of how he was fucking her-she was in charge.

Her hand was still in his hair as she spoke “Use your mouth Pretty Boy” that’s all she had to say, his lips now against her neck, kissing down her body, he cupped one of her tits, groaning at the sound of the high pitched moan she let out, then he slid the bra down-he didn’t bother taking it off of her-rather letting the straps fall as the cups now leaned against her stomach, tits out, nipples hardening at the cold air against them. It wasn’t long until his hands were back on them, one hand cupped her left breast, fingers tugging at her hardened peak making her moan, then he peppered kisses along the right one, his tongue finding her other peak, lapping at it before lightly sucking against it before bringing it between his teeth-tugging at him-earning a louder moan from her.

Her hands were back in his hair as she tugged at the soft brown locks, moaning as he switched his position, making sure to pay attention to every single part of her. He had to make her feel good, that’s all he wanted to do, so he continued kissing down her stomach, eyes meeting hers as he reached the top of her miniskirt. She smirked “hike it up, I want your mouth, want you to be good for me, you wanna taste me?” he bit his bottom lip, nodding his head as he moved his hands to her thighs-easily hiking the skirt up, moaning at the sight of her black thin lacey panties-they left little to imagination.

He was quick to spread her thighs more, laying between them as he licked and sucked marks into the skin of her left thigh before placing it over his shoulder. The sight of him between her legs had y/n biting her lip again, one hand in his hair, tugging at it, the other holding onto her tit, squeezing it, toying with her nipple while she watched him.

“Please-can I taste you-fuck need to taste you on my tongue” she smirked “such a desperate little slut huh? Been waiting months for this-just imagining what I taste like-tell me Pretty Boy-do you think of me at night? When it’s just you?” he nodded his head, looking up at her, lips parted, heavy breaths.

“Yes-fuck-yes, always you, everything about you-please” “then show me” he didn’t hesitate to lick a stripe up her clothed slit, the motion making her whimper, then he slid two fingers along her damp panties, easily pulling them to the side, exposing her to him-and he couldn’t stop the gutteral moan he let out at the sight of her glistening cunt.

“So pretty like that, between my thighs, begging to tongue fuck me” he groaned, nodding his head before licking another stripe up her cunt, then he lapped at it, moaning at the way she tasted against his tongue before focusing on her bud, he rapidly flicked his tongue against her clit, groaning against her at the feeling of her tugging his hair. Her back arched off the bed while she moaned-loving the feeling of his mouth against her.

She bit her lip, grinding her hips closer to his face, moaning. “Just like that-so so good” her praises made him moan, he slid two fingers between her thighs-his other hand gripping her left thigh, holding it close-practically pinning her in place while he harshly sucked at her clit-her moans only motivating him to keep going. Then she felt him slide two fingers right into her entrance, her moans louder now while he curled them into her-over and over again.

He needed to make her cum, needed to taste her, needed to make her feel good.

“You feel so good, oh my god, right there Pretty Boy-fuck make me cum like a good fucking slut” Steve moaned again, her degrading words mixed with praises only sending heat throughout his body as he grinded his hips against her bed-needing some relief while he chased her high-then he felt it-felt the way she tightened around his fingers and tugged at his hair.

She was cumming, her toes curling and back arching even harder while praises slipped past her lips, soaking his lips and chin in her nectar. He moaned while she came, lapping up as much as he possibly could-wanting to keep going-but he knew not to-knew to listen to her.

He slid his fingers out of her, bringing them to his lips, moaning as he sucked every last drop off off of them. She watched him with a smirk on her face.

“C’mere” with that he got up, leaning over her-and she pulled him into another heated sloppy kiss-this time her hands working at his pants, unbuttoning them, followed by his zipper, then she slid her hand inside of his briefs making him moan against her lips. She started to palm him while they kissed, each time her hand lightly squeezed the base of his cock he’d lose rhythm in the kiss.

Y/n thought it was cute, the way he couldn’t even focus on kissing her back while she toyed with his constrained cock. When she pulled away from the kiss she kept palming him.

“Please-” she tilted her head slightly “please what?” “Please-fuck please need you-need you to stop teasing” she pouted for a second “but you look so pretty like this, you’re so red, and your eyes are barely open-I’ve barely touched you and you’re already fucked dumb” he moaned at her words, nodding his head.

She shoved him, rolling so she was now on top of him, and she straddled a little lower than his waist, easily sliding his hard, thick, cock out of it’s confinements, she bit her lip while gazing at it. His veins were so prominent, it curved slightly to the left, and the tip was swollen, red, and dripping pre cum.

“The tip of your cock is the same color as your cheeks-nice and rosy-just for me” she spoke in a degrading tone as she placed a singular hand on the length of his cock, slightly tightening her grip as she slowly slid it up and down his length-she then paused-gliding her thumb across the tip, swiping it against the slit-spreading all of his precum around then she leaned over and spit on it-making his cock a wet sticky mess-all while he moaned and whined under her.

“Please-fuck please y/n-please” she raised a brow “tell me what you want-you want me to fuck you like the whore you are? You want your cock down the back of my throat-you wanna watch me gag on it? Make you cum over and over again until you cant even think straight?” he nodded his head rapidly at her words, vision hazy while he watched her above him-she was like an angel-but angels didn’t do things as sinful as this.

As she spoke her hand’s pace picked up, squeezing him tighter while she pumped his dick, holding eye contact with him-only going faster and faster-while he moaned and whimpered-his hands gripping her sheets. “Such a pretty fuck toy” he felt himself getting closer and closer-and based on the way he twitched in her hands-she knew it too.

“You gonna give me the first one? I want you to cum for me my sweet, sweet boy, cum all over my hand” he nodded his head, chest rising and falling, feeling himself closer and closer to the edge-then she leaned over him, now pumping his cock at a different angle while licking and sucking at the other side of his neck-making sure to leave more marks.

He moaned, his head thrown back slightly as he gripped the sheets “you wanna touch me? Wanna let me know how much you like me fucking you?” he moaned at her words, she was near his ear, low words sending vibrations down his spine-leading him to letting out a loud moan “you can touch me baby, hold me while you cum for me” he nodded his head, his hands on her hips now-fingers digging into her skin as his vision greyed over-feeling his orgasm flow through his entire body.

She smirked, feeling his cum land on her stomach and his, then she sat up, still smirking while he struggled to catch his breath-but she was nowhere near done. She leaned over, tongue tracing the ropes of cum on his stomach, all the while she looked up at him.

Then she moved on to her hand, licking his cum off of her fingers “you made such a mess-can’t let it go to waste, you did so good for me-but now you’re gonna do even better” he simply nodded, biting his lip while he stared at her through hooded eyes-never in his life had he experienced the amount of pleasure that was surging through his body.

She moved further down, kneeling on the bed while she looked at him “lean against the headboard” he nodded, doing as told, chest rising and falling rapidly while he watched her lie between his legs, he winced and whimpered as she grabbed his sensitive cock, not wasting a second before placing the tip into her mouth, lapping at it-sucking on it-and sending him into a pool of overstimulation-hands gripping the sheets while he felt dizzy. He’d never came more than once during a hookup-everything about this was new to him-and he was going insane.

She pulled back “you gonna give me another one? Cum down my throat? Be a good boy for me?” he nodded “use your words” “gonna be good-gonna be so fucking good” he was whining, whimpering as her mouth was back on him-his cock slowly growing harder in her mouth as she sucked on him, toying with his length, using one hand to pump him while she bobbed her head along him-all while holding eye contact with him.

She moved away to spit on his cock again-except she used the tip to smear her spit along her lips, Steve placing his hands over his face after seeing that-letting out loud uncontrollable moans. She wanted him desperate-and that was exactly what she was getting.

It didn’t take long for him to have to cum, his eyes watering from the pleasure while he gripped the sheets, constantly shifting in place-trying to stay as still as possible before she stopped all together.

“Please fuck-please can I cum-please-fuck can’t-cacn’t hold it” she smirked, taking him out of her mouth, still pumping the length of his cock while looking up at him-the string of saliva connecting his tip to her lip was driving him insane.

“You look so good when you cum-so flustered-so fucking pretty” he moaned “gonna cum all over my tongue for me? Be a spoiled little slut for me?” he nodded his head, watching as she stuck her tongue out, tapping his cock against it a few times-the sight sent him into overdrive as he shot ropes of cum along her tongue-one landing on her cheek slightly. She swallowed it all gliding her index finger along her cheek before smirking.

She sat up, smearing her finger across his bottom lip-before sliding it into her mouth-watching as he sucked on it “look so good like this-so fucked out-haven’t even been inside me yet” she leaned closer to him, taking her finger out of his mouth, sliding it along his lips and chin.

“Haven’t even felt how wet, warm, and tight I am-just for you to fill-to stretch-want my pretty boy to cum inside, wanna see how you look while I fuck you hard” he moaned at her words, nodding his head, whimper, lost in his world of her and overstimulation.

She grasped his cock again, pumping it over and over, slowly with a tight grip as she peppered kisses along his jaw-she moved to straddle him again-making it easier to kiss his skin. He looked like a fucked out slutty mess, hair in every direction, lips slightly parted and swollen, eyes hooded, skin flushed and covered in lipstick kisses and bruises and she loved every second of it.

“You gonna give me another one?” he nodded his head, unable to speak-words all jumbled in his head “good-cause I wanna feel you” he moaned at her words which made her mock him “such a cum drunk slut huh? Never been fucked like this huh? Never had someone use you pretty boy?” he shook his head-moaning as her grip tightened.

She smirked at his hard cock in her hand-he was so easy and she knew it was only for her.

She moved against him, sliding the tip of his cock along her dripping slit, he bit his lip so hard he thought it would start bleeding “u-use me” she smirked at his words “I already have been” it hadn’t occurred to him exactly how much pleasure she got from this-from watching him squirm and moan under her-watching the way she affected him.

“Look at me while I fuck you, wanna see those big brown eyes” he nodded his head, now gazing at her-eyes hooded while he tried not to shut them-tried to stay focused on her as she lined him up with her sopping entrance-sliding right down his cock-inch by inch.

She didn’t bother holding back a single moan, her head thrown back slightly while she felt him stretch her out and fill her until he finally bottomed out-their thighs touching again while she moaned.

“So big-feels so good-fuck I’m so full-can’t get enough of this cock-can’t get enough of you” he nodded his head, his loud moans never stopping as she started grinding herself against him before bouncing on his cock, up and down-then deciding to slide up his cock until only the tip was inside of her before slamming down onto him-the pleasure making his eyes start watering again.

She set her rhythm-fucking him as hard as she could-finally looking at him, her hands on his shoulders-using them for support as she continued bouncing on his thick cock, moaning his name alongside praises about how good he felt in her.

“Oh God Y/n-fuck-I can’t hold it-fuck so close” she bit her lip, her gaze had been held between their bodies, watching as he disappeared inside of her cunt, cock coated in her slick while she fucked him. Then she looked up, practically moaning at the sight of the tears running down his face while he threw his head back, biting down on his bottom lip while he tried not to cum.

“Look at you-” she moved on hand-grabbing his chin-forcing him to look at her “a crying stupid mess-hold it for me-or I’ll tie you up and make you cum all fucking night” her words had a slightly slur to them as she bounced on his cock, listening to him fall deeper and deeper into his world of pleasure.

He didn’t expect for her to lean forward, tongue against his jawline-licking the tears that rested there before sucking a mark into his skin-the feelings making his vision blur and all he heard was static-he was so lost in her that he felt like he couldn’t find his way out.

Then she let out a loud whimper-leaning her head against his shoulder while gripping his skin.

“Gonna cum-want you to cum for me-pretty boy I wanna feel you cum inside me” he moaned at her words, nodding his head-hands now gripping her waist-guiding her movements while he fell apart-the feeling of him filling her made her moan his name, eyes rolled back slightly as she quickly followed suit.

After the both of them caught their breath she slid off of him, walking-rather slowly at that-to the bathroom. When she came back Steve was trying to get dressed, eyes still hooded while he tried to balance himself-the sight made Y/n laugh, a smirk on her face.

“Really fucked you stupid huh?” he gazed at her, now blinking as he noticed the oversized t-shirt covering her figure, he watched as she trailed her eyes along him-smirking at his disheveled state.

‘Do yourself a favor Pretty Boy and stay the night-you’re too fucked out to be driving anywhere-you look like you can barely see” he sat down on her bed-running a hand through his messy hair while shaking his head “because I can barely see” his voice was strained-so she tossed the waterbottle on her desk his way-it landed on the bed next to him and he gladly opened it and drank most of it.

“Do you do that to all of the guys you’re into” she laughed at his joke, glancing over-watching as he took off his jeans completely before laying back onto her bed-staring at the ceiling. His thoughts were all on her-on the way she had him in tears less than fifteen minutes ago to the way she was now taking her smeared makeup off.

“Only the ones that end up being my boyfriend” his eyes widened at that, immediately sitting up while staring at her. She simply shrugged her shoulders, eyes now focused on the small mirror sat on her desk as she continued wiping away her makeup.

“Y-y-your boy-boyfriend?” she rolled her eyes, tossing the cotton pads into the trash can under the desk before glancing at him again, her hands now on her hips while she gave him an ‘are you serious’ expression, head slightly craned forward-brows knit together while she stared.

“I mean that’s c-cool, I didn’t know you were like-into that? I guess? I just thought-” she nodded slowly at his rambling, he ran his hands through his hair a few times while he tried to figure out what to say next-and truthfully his brain was still a pile of mush-recovering from the three orgasms and mind blowing sex.

“Into what? Having a boyfriend-or you being my boyfriend? Is the thought of me wanting to be in a relationship really what's shocking you the most Harrington-as if you haven’t stalked me for the past four months” his jaw dropped at her words-she wanted him to be her boyfriend-his mind now solely focused on that. He’d been into her for what felt like forever-and even after everyone told her that she’d never want him-she was here-telling him that she wanted him to be her boyfriend.

“No-no! No not at all! It’s just I didn’t really-uh think I was your type is all” she scoffed “I took you to my house and fucked you until you literally cried. I think it’s established that you’re my type”

He nodded slowly “but you’re all-like punk rock and like into metal and you wear leather and black, and you hated me in high school and you’re friends with Munson, and you’re-well you-uh-” she nodded her head slowly, brows raised, holding in a bubble of air in her cheeks while his words started to melt together as he tried to save his ass.

“Steve do you or do you not want to go on a date with me-If you don’t want to eventually probably end up being my boyfriend that’s cool-just say no. You’re being weird and I’m about to make you sleep in your car outside”

His eyes widened at that, the red flush back on his face, and now as she sat in her bed, only in his boxers, she noticed the way the blush traveled through his neck and onto his chest as well. He was covered in marks, the lipstick stains and hickies making Y/n smirk-proud of her work.

“No-wait no that’s not what I mean! Y-yes-yeah-of course-yeah” she nodded, walking towards him until she stood between his legs, she then pulled him into a soft kiss, one hand toying with the hairs at the base of his neck, the other gently caressing his jawline. He was quick to kiss her back, his hands on her waist while their lips moved in sync.

Then she pulled away, resting her forehead against his “stop being such a weirdo Steve-I like you-clearly-now shut it”

The next day the two of them woke up late, both of their shifts scheduled to start at two in the afternoon and the clock read one fifteen, Y/n was quick to shake Steve awake, telling him they had to go to work-and once he noticed the clock he practically shot out of her bed, rushing to put last night’s clothes on while Y/n pulled a new outfit out of her wardrobe-changing without a second thought.

The sight of her pulling on her clothes-stepping into her panties-had Steve’s jaw dropped while he stared-only to be met with “fix your hair-you look like you just got laid” when she turned around, facing him in just her bra and panties. She then pulled on a pair of black jeans, accompanied by her hellfire club t-shirt, and the faux fur lined leather jacket she kept for colder days.

She pulled Steve behind her to the bathroom across the hall, grabbing him a toothbrush and shoving it in his direction-the two of them still rushing-to the point that Steve hadn’t realized he still had lipstick stained kiss marks along his neck-plus the few hickies that were visible above his neckline.

What shocked Steve the most was Y/n tossing his keys at him, telling him that he was driving today.

So when he pulled into the strip parking lot just as Y/n finished applying her black lip liner and red lipstick combination-Robin opened the front door of the Family Video-fully prepared to curse him out, however when she noticed Y/n sitting in the passenger seat of his car her jaw dropped. She then noticed the way that Y/n grabbed Steve by the collar of his jacket, pulling him into a kiss before shoving him away and getting out of the car.

“See ya later Pretty Boy.”

Y/n simply waved at Robin, she then made her way towards the entrance to the Arcade, a smirk on her face the entire time.

Steve however got out of the car with a dopey smile on his face, glancing in the direction of his future girlfriend while locking the doors.

When he finally headed in Robin’s direction the look of pure shock was hard to miss-so much in fact that all Steve did was shrug-the smile still on his face. Then as the two got inside and stood behind the counter-Robin practically screamed.

“Holy shit! Your neck! Wait are you wearing yesterday’s clothes-oh my god you are-oh my god you two had sex-oh my god you drove her here? You stayed the night? Holy shit-these are like purple-she’s like a damn vampire!” Robin spoke while she poked and prodded at Steve’s neck-his eyes widening as he looked around for any reflective surface-when he came up short he walked to the back room-then into the employee restroom-eyes widening at the lipstick kiss stains on his neck accompanied by hickies.

Usually he’d be mad that a girl left marks on him-however in Y/n’s case it only made him smile, the familiar blush on his face-he was head over heels and now he finally had a date with her.

Taglist: @anxietyandtacos @dmonchld (my slutty friends)

If you’d like to be added to the Steve Harrington taglist heres the link :)

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington filth #sub!steve harrington

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peonysgreenhouse · 2 months

Text

the ghost of you. (welt yang x reader)

summary: welt finds another version of 'you' among the stars.

tags: welt yang x gn!reader, reader is implied to have been a valkyrie, light spoiler's for hi3rds second eruption, implied march 7th/stelle, sorry for hurting the old man </3

It takes Welt months to rebuild his body.

He had known how the war ended; known that the Void Queen was neutralized and that the Abyss Flower had done much to mitigate the causalities of the war. Welt tells himself that he did all he could, and hopes one day that he can believe it.

Though, he can tell something is amiss. His body and mind may still be getting used to having shape again, but Tesla and Einstein are quieter around him, gentle, even. Even if he could hardly walk they would never treat him like he was fragile; they had been proponents of tough love since he was a child.

Maybe he should contact you and see what was going on... Einstein and Tesla were always more open with you, anyways.

Still relearning his steps, Welt limps out of his room and into the main atrium. Einstein speaks on her comm to Amber, while Tesla types behind her hologram's screen.

"You--?! What are you doing out of the infirmary?" Tesla huffs, quickly wiping her eyes on her sleeves. Einstein turns to face Welt, then hangs up her comm quickly.

"Relax, I'm fine." Despite his words, he finds himself gripping the side of a desk to keep himself upright. "Just wanted to check in with a special someone. It's been too long since I've heard from them, I want to make sure all is well where they are."

Einstein and Tesla share grave looks, Einstein immediately getting up and leaving the room afterwards. Tesla bites her lip, slamming her fist down on the table before grabbing a manila envelope, crossing the room over to Welt with an angry stride.

She hands him the report with watery eyes, apologizes with a gentle touch to his shoulder, then exits the room.

Welt immediately knows something was very wrong. Tesla rarely was emotional without getting angry; if it was something that he did wrong, he'd be sitting in a lecture right now. Besides, she had already scolded him for playing hero. This was something much worse.

His mind works in autopilot, he falls into the empty seat at the desk. Welt pulls the report into his lap, and his heart sinks when he sees it's your Valkyrie profile. His eyes move to the bottom of the page, fighting the panic welling up in his chest.

19xx - Killed in battle against the Herrscher of the Void alongside Cheng Lixue. Body retrieved by Schicksal.

Welt reads the words over and over, as if the repetition would somehow change their meaning. His eyes dart up to see the picture of you in the corner of your file. In the picture you were shining, alive.

You were just 18, then, recently graduated from St. Freya's. He hadn't met you yet, but you had told him many stories about your time there. You even expressed interest in teaching there one day, once you weren't needed on Squad Snow Wolf.

Welt sets the folder on his desk in a neat pile, and buries his face in his hands. He should have been there; should have known you would've done something reckless. He could save billions of people as a Herrscher, but he couldn't save the one person who he loved more than the world.

Welt hopes that in your last moments, you knew how loved you were.

When Tesla comes to check on him later, he's asleep, but she can see that he had been grieving. His face is red, eyes puffy; curled up like he intended to suffer alone. Just like he did as a boy.

-`♡´-

It was meant to be a quick stop at a smaller planet. Somewhere near the Xianzhou Luofu where they could rest after they dealt with the Stellaron crisis. Himeko asserted that all of them deserved a little break.

Himeko ended up choosing a rich planet that traded often with the Luofu; they even had a huge shopping district that March 7th just had to see. March 7th had dragged Stelle and himself along for the trip, and somewhere along the line he had gotten separated from the pair of lovebirds.

Oh well, better to give them some time alone, he thinks.

Welt sighs as he sits down on a bench. The suns shine brightly in the sky as he takes in the sights. Outside the shopping district it was mostly quiet, save for the people training across the courtyard. If he squints hard enough, he can just barely see what they're doing.

He becomes so engrossed watching them spar that he hears it before he sees it. A loud whizzing noise that has him casting his body towards the end of the bench, away from whatever was coming straight at him.

"Apologies." The person calls, jogging on over to the bench. Another inch and the spear would've lodged into his arm. He can feel the cold radiate off of it. He scoots over as far as he can, adjusting his glasses. "I'm so sorry, I didn't think my sparring partner would dodge."

Welt finally looks up at the person who had almost killed him, and the words catch in his throat.

It was you, maybe a little taller, a little older than he remembers, but still you. There is no world, no lifetime in which he wouldn't recognize you.

Welt had thought the ghosts of those he left behind could be ignored. Himeko, Bronya, even the one who looked like Otto... he was fine worrying over them from a distance. He knew that they weren't the same people he knew; their faces might be the same, but their personalities, their destinies were not.

But you... he never expected to see you. On lonely nights he found himself pondering the what-ifs, but he dismissed the possibilities as foolish whims. Even if he did find your counterpart, it still wouldn't be the same person he knew as a best friend, as his only love.

"Joachim?" You say, and he flusters. It had been so long since he heard your voice say his name; his heart races at the mere word.

"How did you...?" He starts, clearing his throat. "How did you know my name?"

Your eyes widen in shock, hand covering your mouth. "Sorry, I didn't... You just look like someone I know. Knew."

Welt wants to press you more, he wants to surge forward and pull you close and live in your embrace for an eternity. But instead he grips his cane tighter. He needed to control himself, like he did around every other counterpart of his own world.

"I was going to say the same thing about you." Gentle. The two of you stare at each other for a long moment, not daring to breathe, lest it shatter the illusion. You're the first to look away, eyes growing glassy as you force back the tide of emotion building in your chest.

"I need to get back to training." You say simply, tapping your lance against the earth.

And before he can get your name, to see if it's the same as the you he knew, you run off back to your sparring partner.

When you're out of sight, Welt feels it hard to breathe. He shouldn't leave you behind; he should reach out his hand and talk to you. Just for a little while, just to satiate that nagging feeling taking root in his chest.

And yet he can't bring himself to follow. The world around him feels hazy, his whole body aching with longing. He walks around the grounds aimlessly until the suns set in the sky, telling himself over and over that this wasn't really you. That his incessant curiosity would only get you both hurt.

But when he closes his eyes that night, he can't help but hope that he would see you again.

-`♡´-

Your name is the same.

Though, that should be the last thing on his mind as you pull your lance out of a dead Voidranger; its body disintegrating into the ether.

"Are you guys alright?" You ask, looking only at March 7th and Stelle. Your chest heaves with effort as you sheath your lance into the ground, leaning on it for support. "I didn't think that the Antimatter Legion had a presence here... This is very troubling."

"Yes, I'm fine!" March 7th speaks first, eyes glittering with excitement. "More than fine, actually! The way you and your friend swooped in like that was so cool! Can you teach me how to do that?!"

"You want her to teach you how to... swoop?" Stelle answers, scratching her cheek in confusion.

"Ugh, you know what I mean! Like make that dramatic and dashing entrance!" March clasps her hands together, lost in some fantasy. "You have a lance, Stelle, I'm sure you could be that charming if you tried."

Stelle mumbles something, and Welt steps in before the two can start their playful bickering. Your partner, a girl that looks about Stelle's age, calls your name. Whatever words the two of you exchange next are lost on him; he rolls your name around in his mind until you turn back to March.

"If you're interested in training with us, you could always join in one of our sparring sessions." You fiddle with the sleeve of your uniform. "I'm not sure how long you guys are staying, but if you have time I'd enjoy seeing an outlander's fighting style."

"You'll do it, won't you, Stelle?" March tugs at Stelle's sleeve, and Stelle shrugs at you. "And you too, Mr. Yang!"

Welt finally meets your eyes, and you smile sheepishly, obviously not expecting March to volunteer him for the training too. After you tell her the date and time, March skips off, her hand in Stelle's.

Without the crutch of March 7th, Welt feels himself not knowing what to say to you. You refused to even look at him, and he didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

He would be okay with the rejection. In some ways, it would be better than you accepting him. It had been twenty years since your death, but Welt was just starting to rid himself of the guilt that came from not being able to protect you.

Time could heal some wounds, others would just bleed and bleed and bleed. Your death was one he knew he would never fully recover from. Seeing another version of you older and alive only made those old wounds ache. Like this is the you he could've been chasing the stars with.

"I'm sorry for them, they're a handful." He says, voice shaky. "Thank you for stepping in, though. I didn't want the girls to have to fight on our vacation."

"It's my job." You say. "It can get pretty rowdy over here, with how close we are to the Luofu. Most people here are merchants though... If we weren't here, they couldn't protect themselves."

"That's very admirable of you." Welt remembers you saying something similar as to why you became a Valkyrie. He adjusts his glasses, hoping you don't see the flush on his cheeks. "Most people wouldn't be brave enough to take up such a calling."

You shrug. "I actually joined on a whim. My family are traders, but I just felt like the universe was telling me to join. Like protecting people was my purpose." When Welt goes silent, you add: "Sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you this. You're not..."

"It's okay, I enjoy listening to your voice." Welt steps closer to you, but you step back. "I..." He starts, but can't bring himself to voice his feelings. To tell the you in front of him about the you from his world. "Never mind. I should go. It'll be dark soon. I... hope to see you again."

When you don't answer, he turns to leave.

"Wait." You say, clutching his sleeve. He can feel your nails dig into his arm through the fabric; Welt has to stop himself from shivering. "You're... okay, right? You didn't get hurt?"

Welt swallows, the urgency in your eyes making him feel hot. "Yes, I'm fine. You got here before it could really do much."

You hold eye contact with him, your jaw clenching tight. "I saw you step in front of them when that enemy first appeared. Are you sure it didn't hurt you?"

"...It did hit me, but I'm fine. Just some light bruising."

Your grip on him tightens. "Are you sure? I... don't want you to lie for my sake. There's a clinic nearby, I don't mind taking you there."

Welt's gaze softens. He almost wants to take up the offer to spend more time with you. "Yes, I promise you."

You release his sleeve, walking back over to retrieve your lance. He feels himself missing the contact.

"Okay, good. I just know... my Joachim would lie about that kind of thing to put my mind at ease." You shake your head, expression heavy with grief. "But you're not him. When I look at you, I forget myself. I apologize."

-`♡´-

Himeko crosses her legs, picking up her teacup on the round table in front of her. Welt squirms under her inquisitive gaze.

"You've been acting strange lately." Himeko taps a manicured nail against the glass, inhaling the scent of her 'coffee'. Welt wonders how she can stand it. "I know we both have our secrets, but something is obviously bothering you. I wish you would tell me what it is."

Welt pretends to take a sip of the coffee Himeko made him, making an exaggerated noise to show his approval. Welt had always been a tea person, anyways, and the black sludge Himeko made did not change his mind whatsoever.

"I... am not sure what you mean." He replies, eyes flicking to the floor.

"See? You can't even look at me when you say that." She rolls her eyes. "Darling, if something happened on this planet, I need to know."

Welt sighs, deeply. "Something did happen, but it's nothing you need to worry about."

"Nothing I need to know about, or nothing you want to tell me." Himeko sets her teacup down, focusing all her attention onto Welt. "I want to know if something's bothering you."

"I just... saw someone who looked like someone from my world." He swirls the coffee in his cup absentmindedly.

"Oh? Was it like what happened with Luocha?" She leans forward, red hair falling onto her shoulders. Welt can't help but think her curiosity was just like the Himeko he had once knew. He can't help but smile to himself.

"No, nothing like him." His voice is firm. "It was... someone important to me."

Her eyebrows raise, eyes bright with interest. "Oh? An old friend? ...An old flame?"

Welt takes a sip of the 'coffee'. Maybe if he died here he would be able to dodge her questions. "...Something like the latter."

"What?!" She sits back, cheshire grin on her face. "Mr. Yang, you never told me you had a lover back home!"

Welt's expression falls, and Himeko notices immediately. She quickly apologizes.

"Oh. Did... did something happen to them?" Himeko frowns sympathetically, patting his hand. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed."

"It's fine. It was... a very long time ago." He admits. "But even so, seeing them again, even if it isn't them... I want to talk to them more. I miss their voice, I miss seeing them... Talking to them eases some of that ache."

"Then why not talk to them? To them, you're a stranger, right? It couldn't hurt anything."

"But they knew a version of me." Welt sets his coffee down, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "They knew my name instantly."

Himeko is quiet for a minute, turning his words over in her mind.

"You don't have to listen to me, but if I was in your situation... I would want to get to know them." Himeko smiles gently. "Welt, not many people get a second chance with a loved one. You don't have to feel the same way for them that you felt for the version of them that you knew, but the way I see it... It's easy to see that you feel guilty for losing them, maybe talking to them would help lessen that guilt. And if they lost their version of you, I'm sure it would be the same for them. Call it closure for the both of you."

Welt's eyes feel glassy; emotion threatening to choke him. Himeko was right. Denying himself would only leave him with one more ghost. He had enough of those for one lifetime.

"Thank you, I think I will."

-`♡´-

Welt decides to take up March 7th when she asks him to come and spar with you. Stelle decides she would go too, if only to show off for March 7th.

Stelle announces that she'll go first, and it's hard to take his eyes off the two of you. March 7th bounces excitedly on her heels beside him, cheering on Stelle as Stelle readies her lance to fight you.

You roll your shoulder, readying your own lance. Welt sees a determination in your eyes that he hadn't seen in a long while.

You and Stelle trade blows, but it was obvious that you were a much more experienced fighter. Stelle liked to overwhelm her opponents with a show of force, but you were more lithe on your feet. You move quickly, not letting any of Stelle's blows land. The you of his world was an A-rank Valkyrie, but even so you were still green to the title before your passing. Here, you seemed more confident, your moves fluid and graceful, but still powerful.

After a few rounds, Stelle concedes, running a hand through her sweaty hair. She uses her lance to propel herself off of the ground, going over to rest on the sidelines with March. You look relatively unfazed as you catch your breath.

"Mr. Yang, it's your turn!" March yells, pushing him forward. His glasses nearly fall off from the force. Maybe she should be the one fighting you...

"Well?" You say, cocking an eyebrow. You lean against your lance. "You wanna spar?"

"I don't... I mean..." Welt starts. "I didn't think I'd be fighting you."

"Aw, c'mon, Mr. Yang! Don't be scared!" March 7th winks at him. "We'll be cheering you on, right, Stelle?"

Stelle gives a lazy thumbs up, still laying in the grass. Welt sighs, knowing he can't get out of this; not when his two girls were cheering him on. And especially not when you were there, too.

"Well, alright. I suppose I can go a round or two." Welt picks up his cane; his ever reliable Star of Eden. "If you don't mind, that is."

"I'm down. Just don't go easy on me, okay?" You look serious, readying your lance. Welt nods, announcing that he's ready; it's you that makes the first move.

As you rush toward him, he realizes how much faster you were than he was. Were you holding back against Stelle? He just barely manages to dodge, losing his footing as he does so.

You take advantage of that and slam the side of your lance into his ribs, hard. Welt winces, stumbling back, managing to slow you down with the Star's gravitational powers. Stuck and slowed, you launch your lance at him, ice crystals forming underneath its path. He ducks just in time, but you've already managed to close the distance between you two. You were relentless.

You both trade blows for almost an hour after that, but it was obvious that you were wearing Welt out. Exhausted from just watching, March announces your victory, and drags you and Welt along to get victory dinner together.

Welt doesn't miss your smile as March slips her hand into yours.

-`♡´-

The cool night air doesn't bother him when he sits at your side. The indentation where your lance lodged was still in the bench; he can't help but smile.

Dinner was nice, March 7th seemed to pick up on Welt's fondness for you and made sure to have you both sit across from each other. You were a little more open when it wasn't just you and him; you laughed and told stories about your home planet. He enjoyed listening to your voice.

It was him who asked you to join him on a walk. You had seemed hesitant to accept, but did so anyways. He was glad.

"You're a very talented fighter." He says, sincere. "It's been a while since I've been bested like that."

"You were holding back." You shake your head. "I would almost be mad, but it's so like you. Or, the you I knew, I guess."

"I didn't want to hurt you." Welt grabs his ribs subconsciously; he can feel that they're already starting to bruise. "But it seems like I didn't need to hold back."

"...I just wanted to see how strong you were." You lean back, the golden hour glow making you look breathtakingly beautiful. Welt finds himself unable to look away. He wanted to commit this moment to memory before it slipped out of his grasp. "You're definitely stronger than he was. That's good."

Welt feels himself dancing on an invisible line, but he can't live with the regrets. He has to know. "What happened? To your version of me?"

You laugh, bitterly, feet kicking into the dirt. "He was always playing the hero. Rushing into danger so that no one else would have to... It was one of the things I admired about him before I started dating him. And after... it was one of the things we argued about the most."

Welt had heard this song before; you and Tesla would always scold him for acting recklessly. But he had a Herrscher core that he could rely upon, he's guessing your version of him did not.

When he's silent, you continue on. "It was just supposed to be a routine thing, you know. We were investigating a case about some stolen goods... but it turned out to be a trap. The guys expected us to come and... I was just too slow. They shot him before I even had a chance to react."

Welt puts his hand on your shoulder, but you pull away, sniffling. "It wasn't your fault."

"I know, I know. I've been told that a hundred times but... when you watch someone you love bleed out in front of you and you can't do anything... It just feels like it was. Like I should've been more careful or something." You shake your head. "Joachim was... he was supposed to be a teacher, anyways. He joined us because he needed the money. He shouldn't have been there."

Welt adjusts his glasses, thinking of how similar he was to your Joachim. Maybe if he hadn't met Welt Joyce, maybe if he didn't take up the mantle of Herrscher from him, this too would've been his fate.

"He seemed like a good man. I'm so, so sorry." Welt's voice is gentle. He wants to say more, but knows that words can do little to alleviate the pain of loss. All he can do is sit and listen.

You wipe your eyes with a sleeve, trying to even your breathing. Welt's hand lingers in the air, as if wanting to wipe away the tears spilling down your cheeks. "He was. He was the best." You sniffle, shaking your head. "I miss him every day."

"I know how you feel... I lost my version of you, too." He smiles, sympathetically. "It was over twenty years ago but I think about them every single day."

You look up at him, eyes glassy with tears. "What happened to them?"

He hadn't talked about your death since the day he found out. He didn't like to remember you that way; not when you were so vibrant in his memory, so full of life. When he talked about you, he told others his fondest memories of you. So that your memory would transcend time.

You deserved to be remembered.

"There was a... world-ending level threat on my home planet. I had fought as long as I could, but eventually I was too injured to go on. That's when... them and their squad member challenged the enemy to a fight. It was really a distraction so their friend could get away safely... They... were impaled by a lance." Welt leans forward in his lap, rubbing his face with his hands. "I always feel like I could have done more."

You touch his arm, so feather-light he's sure he imagined it. "Hey. If the other version of me volunteered to do that then... I'm sure they knew the possible outcomes." You give him a watery smile. "I don't think they would want you to feel guilty about it. I wouldn't."

Welt has to blink back tears. It was beyond cathartic, hearing that in your voice. "The other version of me wouldn't want you to feel any guilt either. It wasn't your fault, what happened. You deserve to be at peace."

You nod, slowly. He can still sense some hesitancy from you; it seemed your wound was much fresher than his own. Maybe if he kept reminding you then you would one day believe it.

The night grows dark as the two of you sit there, in a peaceful silence. You both think on happier days, and soon your head falls onto his shoulder.

"Maybe... maybe a change of scenery will help." Welt says, the stars above as your only witness. "What would you say about coming on a trip on the Astral Express with me?"

#welt yang x reader #welt yang #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai impact 3rd #hi3rd x reader #imagine #angst #hurt/comfort #x reader #fic #:^)

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shyravenns · 6 months

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yeah yeah yeah Soap is dead, but how about Soap coming back and haunting every member of 141 like the clingy bastard that he is

Farah who never really knew Soap as well as the others, but still feels the gaping hole that his presence left. Farah, who finds herself standing beside Ghost underneath the cool night sky, and surprises herself (and him) with a joke that's so oddly distasteful about the state of their recent mission and feeling a soft warmth flutter in her chest at his light huff of laughter. Laughter that she feels as if she hasn't heard in months. Remembering hours later that herself that she could have sworn that there had been a brief, additional gust of laughter along the wind that neither of them bothered to acknowledged.

Alex who feels the unsettling quiet that's grown between all of them at all times as if it were a blanket. He knew Soap as well as one might expect from the very few times they worked together, and oftentimes thinks about the blossoming friendship between them that had died along with him. Alex, who often wonders about the kind of leader Soap would have been and places him in the tiny cranny in his heart that's reserved for every man and woman that's worked alongside him and died. Alex who feels the unwelcome *push* of hands that cause him to stumble so hard he feels as if his teeth has knocked out, and just barely remembers that he's in an active warzone before he glances up and sees the tall tale imprint of a bullet in the wall right where his head had been.

Rudy who had the privledge of actually becoming Soap's friend, and remembers the exact moment he heard the news. They weren't *close*. Not in the way that Soap was close with Ghost or Gaz or even Alejandro, but he still felt as if a bullet had pierced his own heart at the confirmation of his death. Watching at the brief flicked of emotions crossing Alejandro's face at another soldier lost far too soon. Rudy who flips through the long forgotten sketchbook that Soap had left during one of his visits to Las Almas, and delicately places his fingers on the sketches. Rudy who doesn't remember falling asleep, and wakes up with the scent of a long forgotten friend floating in the air and a sketchbook that's been left on an empty page he doesn't remember seeing. He stands up to get his pencil.

Alejandro who takes every death to heart, and keeps every dog tag that he can find stored in a drawer in his desk of all the men and women he had the honor of fighting alongside with. Alejandro who grieves at the absolute unfairness of it all, and vows to kill Markarov himself if he should ever have the chance. Alejandro, who still wants to believe that there is some sort of afterlife and that maybe there's a point to all of this. Alejandro, who loses *another* soldier and feels the weight of a hand on his shoulder that squeezes, and thinks that just for a moment that he can hear the faint whisper of bad spanish with a slight scottish accent in his ear. Words barely perceptible even by his own trained ears, and yet it brings a small smile to his face.

#soapcod #john soap mactavish #codmwf3 spoilers #mwf3 spoilers #call of duty #spoilers #modern warfare iii spoilers #god how many times can I say that this has spoilers #this is me throwing milk on soap's corpse and telling him to get up #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #farah karim #alex keller #im doing the outer members of 141 and then maybe i'll do 141+nik and kate later on #any typos you see arent there and I don't make spelling mistakes bc maybe your eyes are just bad #thank you for reading!!#soap as a ghost (hehe) has me in a chokehold

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frog-man-moments · 28 days

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Villain agent 8 au: UPDATED

(this is my silly little idea for a villain agent 8, i have been talking to @flamingskull28 about it and he even gave me a couple of idea's for the au so major thanks to him)[also thanks to @lbodraws for some inspiration and @joltthewolf for making a v8 edit)

During the fight with smollusk, smollusk in an effort to turn the tides of battle aims for an weakened agent 4, which ends of killing her. .This sends agent 8 into a frenzy which leads to her killing smollusk in a fit of grief.

After escaping the memverse agent 8 locks herself away as she is unable to comprehend four's death. Pearl and Marina try to reach out to agent 8 but 8 kept pushing them away. Pearl and Marina feel like failures of parents after everything is over.

Marina and pearl are the ones who have to deliver the bad news to the NSS, all of them are distraught but this news hits marie the hardest alongside eight, as marie always viewed four as their child . However while marie accepted and grieved fours death, agent 8 was unable to process it. Eight could not accept four's death and just kept denying and denying. Agent 8 took an orange inkling plushie four gave her and began talking to it. She talked to it like agent 4 and held it constantly with her making her crazy and further denying fours death.

Until she had an epiphany, the memverse had the power to mess with souls, eight began to wonder what else the memverse could do.

This line of thinking brought her to wonder if she could use the memverse to bring back agent 4. She brought this idea up to marina however she told eight that she believed eight should accept four's death and to try to move on, unsure if resurrection could even work. This caused eight to go behind marinas back to try and execute her plan. 8 begins to study souls in hopes of finding a way to bring four back. This causes damage to the souls she's studying and makes marina get involved. Eight falling into madness didn't care, all she cared about was getting four back.

Eight brainwashed marina to get her out of the way and to get her help. 8 also kinda blamed marina for fours death for creating the memverse and smollusk in the first place. Parallel cannon in this au is eights first attempt to bring four back. However instead of resurrecting agent 4, it made a clone of her. PC feels useless and rejected as their sole purpose was to be love/ be a lover and the person they were supposed to love rejected them.

Marina wasn't the only person to get brainwashed. agent 8 was still angry and wanted someone to take their anger out on so she turn to shiver.

shortly before the events of splat 2 agent 4 and shiver were at their worst mentally. they were both 14 and dealing with a lot and not dealing with it well. so when they both met they jumped into a relationship without thinking.

They both had attachment and abandonment issues. So when the other partner would spend too much time away with friends or even a day away from the other, the partner "left behind" would get very upset, usually resulting in an argument. they both did this as they were co-dependent on each other.

it was only after a really bad argument did agent 4 leave. I left shiver feeling really guilty as she did love four and still had feelings for her.

so when she saw agent 4 during splat 3 she wanted to get back with her. But she saw agent 8 as a cheap copy of her and always tried to start drama with her.

so agent 8 brainwashed shiver as a form a revenge for her past actions( even though her and agent 4 were equally bad back then) and basically turned her into a second parallel cannon and was assigned to guard marina while the real PC was made to guard her.

Eight's attempts to bring four back is causing four pain in the afterlife. Four even temporarily contacts eight to tell her to stop because shes hurting her. However eight does not listen deciding four doesn't know what's good for her.

(v8 design made by @joltthewolf)

Eight eventually discovers a way to bring four back. In order to bring a person back it requires hundreds of souls to be sacrificed in order to bring a person back. This ritual is very painful for the person being brought back.

It ends up being marie who has to climb the tower to take down eight as see can relate to being hit very hard by fours death. she is accompanied by callie drone.

Things are mostly the same but some things are different. Mainly PC and the finale boss.

Marie would finding PC in a state of sadness. They still try to fight but they are clearly in pain. Marie decides to take PC with her and PC opens up to Marie about how they feel, they feel rejected and alone. They feel useless and afraid and it breaks Marie's heart since four had similar feelings before they died.

Marie and PC's relationship to be similar to Pearl and steven's earlier relationship, even having a "WHY WON'T YOU LET ME DO THIS FOR YOU ROSE?!" type moment. PC has a journey of self-discovery while Marie learns that PC is their own person and more than just a clone.

agent 8 's fight would be a mix of soul of sectonia and order.(including a phase where 8's head pops off) agent 8 would start out small and the first phases would be hard but manageable. But when she turns big mode you are going to have start praying as you will have to deal with brutal attacks and a difficult envoirment.

There are 3 possible endings for this au

Good ending: marie takes 8 down and drags her our of the memverse. Eight ends up getting help to process four's death. fairly simple.

Resurrected good ending: eight is successful in bringing four back but is still taken down. four is mortified by what her lover has done. hundreds of people are now souless and she was dead and brought back. four breaks up with eight which breaks her even more(she does get better)

Resurrected bad ending: eight brings back four and kicks the other agent's out of the memverse. She creates and ai to wipe her and fours memories every couple of years and to create adventures for her and four to enjoy. She and four go on adventures for a while unaware of everything that happened. until the NSS enter the memverse and stop the temporarily ai and bring back four and eights memories. 8 and 4 are overwhelmed by the past. Eight is horrified by what shes done while four is trying to comprehend the fact they died and came back to life. they have the option to either go to the real world or continue living the lie

#agent 4 #agent 8 #agent 32 #marie #mom marie #callie #splatoon #frog-man posting #splatoon side order #smollusk #splatoon 3 #villain agent 8 #villain agent 8 au #sh4ver #shiver hohojiro

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dootznbootz · 5 months

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I don't think Greek Mythology retellings/adaptions/inspired/etc. are necessarily "evil"...but I DO think people REALLY need to understand that there's a huge difference between the actual mythology and certain media.

I feel like people have to basically do a "Fandom ___" to say the different versions. Like "PJO ___", "Hades game ___", "TSOA ___". For it to be understood that these depictions are DIFFERENT. I'm saying this as someone who grew up reading PJO and still has a soft spot for it. But as someone who really loves Greek Mythology as well, I sometimes get really SAD.

I'm going to use the comparison of Howl's Moving Castle with it's Book Vs. Movie. I enjoy both!!! But they are honestly very different. In the movie there is no "sister swap", Markle isn't a young teenager, Sophie doesn't throw weed killer at Howl, and many more moments. But I enjoy both because even though there are changes they still keep components that are ingrained into the characters!

In some Greek Myth retellings/adaptations/stories/etc., characters are...SO different from the source material. That's fine...Choose what you want with your story... But folks should know that the modern adaptations are NOT the source material!!!

It bothers me that a lot of these wonderful myths and stories are twisted up and seen so differently because of a modern version of them. You can have that character be "awful" or a certain way in your story. But I almost feel that as fans, it's not good to generalize them or see it as "This is the truth". People are hating the mythological figure when it's only in that interpretation they are like that.

In PJO, Ares is "Zeus' favorite", isn't a good dad, a misogynist, etc. The actual myths? One of his Epithets is LITERALLY "Feasted by Women", in the Iliad everybody basically bullies him with Zeus literally saying he hates him. He cries when he learns one of his sons is killed in the war. He literally kills someone about to rape his daughter. Ares isn't perfect but it makes me sad with how he's viewed and talked about when it's only in PJO he's like that. Same with Dionysus. Read the Bacchae, you'll love it.

In Lore Olympus, Apollo rapes Persephone (noticing the fact that modern takes on the myths add rapes where there never were hmmmmm) when he never did in any of the myths.

In TSOA, Thetis is cruel when in the Iliad, she is such a loving mother to Achilles. She grieved alongside her son over Patroclus. Also with Agamemnon. In Ipheginia at Aulis, Agamemnon is a MESS. He adored his children.

In Circe, Odysseus is viewed as a selfish man who ONLY hurts others and doesn't care about his family when that is LITERALLY his one consistent character trait. HE is actually the one who is the victim of rape. Circe was never raped.

Medusa is only a victim in Ovid's, a Roman man, works. Not in GREEK mythology. She was just a cool monster. Leave Perseus alone. Poseidon and Medusa actually had a consensual relationship in Greek Mythology!

These adaptations/retellings/inspired by/etc. whatever anybody wants to call them, are not the real myths! They may be similar in some ways but to just generalize them or hate the deity/mythological figure because of something they did in the new media feels fucked up!

You can enjoy these new stories. There's nothing wrong with that!!! But know they're not the real myths. Maybe even label it as "I hate ____'s version of ____". As that makes it clear what version you're talking about.

#I'm probably wording this very weird. I'm sorry for that haha #idk I'm getting sad #I'm clutching the gods and my special lil heroes to my chest to protect them from the hate.#this is silly but...idk had to say it :(#anti circe #anti madeline miller #sorry but that book makes me the sad™#greek mythology #tagamemnon #Mad rambles #shot by odysseus #PJO is special to me but I'm protecting the Gods >:( They can suck in PJO. to say the suck in the myths when you don't know the actual #myths is...sad #tw rape #<because so many adaptations ALSO add them when they're not there!!!!#save me morally gray circe #essay

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shantechni · 10 months

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I don't think we talk enough about the boys' different reactions to Splinter's brief chance of becoming human again, as well as the possibility of him regaining bits of his past that were once thought to be gone for good.

Human once more?

When Donatello first presents Splinter with a beaker of retromutagen in The Lonely Mutation of Baxter Stockman, he's evidently excited and expectant of a similar reaction from Splinter. And Leo's expression is mild yet very telling of how he feels about what Donnie did; they're both willing to give Splinter his human form again.

Raph and Mikey are almost on the opposite side of the spectrum though.

One could easily pass their reactions for being surprise or shock at Donnie making enough for Splinter, but the fact that only Donnie and Leo are shown with favorable reactions kind of solidifies the possibility of them not being fond of the idea, at least not right away.

Of course, Splinter passes up his opportunity so Kirby could get his turn first, but Stockman buzzes in and ruins whatever chances Donnie had of fulfilling his promise. And by the end of the episode, everyone looks disappointed, including Mikey and Raph.

Like many things in this show, it's not really explored further or touched upon again (there's probably no need for that), but the duo's initial reactions give away their thought processes: Splinter becoming human again? What does that mean for us?

After all the hullabaloo with Stockman though, they clearly align with Leo and Donnie on the matter and feel bad that the vial of retromutagen was lost. Splinter doesn't speak much about his human life outside of giving his sons cautionary tales, but he doesn't hide how much he misses it at times either, so it's only natural for the boys to want to give him what he misses. Ultimately though, Splinter tells them not to worry about the retromutagen situation since he's content with where and who he is now, and the boys no longer appear forlorn.

Shout out to that 1987 episode with a similar premise✌🏽

That would've been the end of the turtles trying to give Splinter any semblance of his old life if not for the S1 finale.

Karai's our sister!?

The boys only have a relationship with Karai because of her connection to Splinter and his life as a human, which goes hand in hand with why they went through so much trouble for her.

As soon as Splinter tells them the truth of Karai's lineage, Leo suddenly has a bigger reason to bring Karai to the good side. Meanwhile, Mikey deploys his famous strategy of silently determining for himself from the sidelines if Karai is trustworthy. Though he admonished Leo for trusting her in The Alien Agenda, he doesn't expresses distaste and distrust for her to quite the same extent as the others (especially Raph), and he's also the first to openly acknowledge her as their sister. Raph and Donnie are constantly honest about how little they think they could grow to trust her, and they have a point; she was raised by the Shredder and is their sworn enemy under the Foot clan, how can they trust her?

Even when she briefly fights alongside them against Tiger Claw, Donnie and Raph still have their doubts. Leo tries to argue his point like usual, but Raph sounds so done with Karai when he reiterates that she was raised by the Shredder. No amount of blood ties will change that.

But when Leo bears witness to how heavily Karai's absence weighs on Splinter, his determination forces Raph and Donnie to put aside whatever animosity they had left and decide to save her.

And, after Karai gets mutated through a series of unfortunate events that will surely be blamed on the wrong party by a literal psychopath, the rest of the turtles bear witness to Splinter's pain as he closes himself off in the midst of another grieving process.

They feel bad for what happened to Karai, but the way they go on to speak about the situation in A Chinatown Ghost Story tells us that they mostly feel bad because Splinter feels bad, a huge change from before when Leo was the only one feeling the guilt. They aren't so close to her to feel genuine grief, but their father lost his daughter for the second time, and it's up to them to find her.

The situation especially hurts in the beginning of The Fourfold Trap because, usually, helping Splinter would bring them together to aim for one mutual goal, but the stress gets to everyone and Raph even goes so far to call Karai a lost cause, a statement that instantly ticks Mikey off. Splinter does his best to mediate by telling them that he's thankful for the four of them, but the boys are too painfully aware of the problem to accept the sentiment.

She was what little Splinter had of his past life as a human, and the boys clung to her so much that they, without realizing it, began to see her as an integral part of their little family.

#analysis #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt splinter #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #2012 splinter #2012 leo #2012 raph #2012 donnie #2012 mikey #hamato yoshi

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bigtreefest · 3 months

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Chapter 2: Heartbreak on the Map

From: Bigger Houses Series

Pairing: (Future) Mountain Ranger! Ari x Reader, Ari x his ex mentioned

Summary: It’s okay to grieve and sulk after a breakup, but at some point, you need to gather yourself together and find the things that make you the happiest, best version of yourself. This is Ari trying to do that, but not perfectly.

Word Count: 1,643

Content/Warnings: Mentions of excessive alcohol consumption, heartbreak and descriptions of how it’s dealt with, Ari being reckless but lucky, lovesick/hopeful thoughts despite a previously broken heart, angst high key stress me out, but did I just write some???, lmk if I missed any

Author’s Note: I honestly like this chapter way better than the first one. I’m not sure why it just flowed better and was way easier to write, despite being shorter. As always, likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are very appreciated. Please send me an ask, I’m begging.

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Below is the song this is based off. I strongly suggest you listen, not only because it helps give vibes, but it’s also a really good song with creative lyricism.

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Ari’s breakup

This barstool knew his name by now, as he sat there sometime around midnight nursing another longneck beer, alongside a couple abandoned whiskey glasses. He’d asked around town if anyone had seen her. That girl. The one that did him wrong, left him here sitting like an old, sad country song. That kind that bars play all night long on the jukebox. He’d know that’s what they play, he was there every night. He didn’t know where to look anymore.

Ari had no idea where she could possibly be at this point. Could have been west of Texas, east of Tennessee, but he didn’t care. Because all that mattered was that she wasn’t here with him anymore. It all went south, and maybe she did, too, as he watched her taillights fade in a dust cloud. No goodbye kiss. Ari was left to wonder, with only whiskey on his lips.

He had hardly slept in weeks. The beer and whiskey sometimes had the opposite intended effect, not aiding his sleep, but keeping him up to overthink. The truth was, he knew why the relationship ended. It wasn’t his fault, and he could tell it wasn’t meant to be from the start. But he was mostly happy, and he thought that’s what he deserved: to be mostly happy and to settle down because it seemed that was all she wanted. But that’s all he was doing: settling. She never pushed him, unless it was to find a way to make more money and support her, but Ari didn’t truly want that life. He didn’t want to come home to a perfect little housewife. But she wanted that. And she kept pushing, and he kept molding himself to her demands, because love is compromise, right?

No. Not if it’s only on one side.

Despite knowing better in the back of his head, Ari convinced himself there was something he could do. Making use of another restless night, he threw the covers off and shuffled out of the bedroom and into the rest of his small shack of a cabin provided by his ranger job. He found himself sprawled at the dining room table with papers scattered all over, a magnifying glass in hand. He had looked through his old maps, trying to find all routes she could’ve possibly taken, but instead, all that he saw was heartbreak. She put it there. He leaned back and stared at the ceiling, letting out a deep sigh in frustration. Frustration of wasted years, frustration at himself for trying to talk himself into something he knew was wrong. That’s why he never got a ring, even when she pushed. He knew it wasn’t meant to be. So she left, for someone who had her ring waiting.

Losing her was heart wrenching, but also, a relief. Slipping out of your uncomfortable shoes and unbuttoning your pants after a six-mile hike kind of relief. Ari knew the one for him was still out there, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still hurting. He needed to recover the places she’d been with new memories: starting with the living room. No need for the bedroom, at least. (Another product of the voice at the back of his mind that knew she wasn’t right.) So he flopped down on the couch, tv low in the background, staring up at the ceiling, humming one of the heartbreak songs from the bar until sleep embraced him.

Ari woke up with cramps in his back and a sore neck from curling up on the couch that was just barely too small for his tall, broad frame. It was still dark out. His phone was plugged in at the night stand by the bed, so he walked over to the kitchen. The clock on the stove read 5:48 am. Might as well start getting ready for the day. He put on a pot of coffee and opened the fridge to look for leftovers to heat up. While that was going, he shuffled back to his closet and slipped on his uniform, ready to start another day in the only place that gave him true peace: the mountains. (Luckily, the only other place she hadn’t tainted. She hated the out doors.)

Ari’s days carried on like this for weeks. Wake up too early. Make coffee. Go to work. Come home. Try and sleep. Look through old paper maps. He loved routine, it often kept him sane, but he was spiraling. He needed to figure out a new one. He was sick of moping around and he was sick of putting himself down like he had done something wrong. How was she still able to hold him back after being gone? He was going to start living his life for himself again. He needed to find the schedule and the things that truly made him happy. But first, dinner.

A few months later

One of the routine things that kept Ari sane now: cleaning the house. He needed a true, clean slate, so we went and cleared off the dining room table, nicely refolding the maps which had laid there for months. Despite him having been single for so long now, he kept them there. They used to give him peace and comfort. Ari liked his old, paper maps. It was easier to see it all laid out instead of crammed onto his tiny phone. His place was a lot like that: full of things he could do with his hands, like mini projects, instead of being glued to a screen all day. But she had tainted it: she tainted his favorite things. It wasn’t as bad now, but his nervous evergy kept building up and he needed to get out of there so he didn’t scream.

Another aspect of Ari’s healing: working out. Any time he got like this and couldn’t stand being in the small space anymore, he ran. He ran until he drove all those what-ifs and doubts out of his mind, along the mountain trails and out to the cliffs where it was just him and the sky, overlooking the small town below, dwarfed even more by the mountainous elevation. He slipped on his tennis shoes and bolted out the door as quickly as he could. The mid-week afternoon air was refreshing. All he could focus on was go farther. Go faster. He kept running and running, through the trails, and didn’t even have a second thought to look when crossing the road, the music blaring in his headphones making him unable to hear any cars approaching as they went along the mountain path. As he stepped out onto the road, Ari saw movement out of the corner of his eye and his head snapped. Before he knew it, anhorn sounded and a car swerved around him, skidding to a stop as it pulled over on the narrow mountain pass. Ari jumped back into the greenery lining the road, surprised at his own recklessness that he usually preaches against. Another SUV pulled over right behind the first as he heard a driver’s side door slam shut. He could faintly hear a conversation between two women, followed by one of them emerging from between the cars.

“Oh my gosh! I thought you were a bear! I almost hit you!”

Ari was in shock from how careless he was and how he watched his life flash before his eyes.

“I-it’s really my fault. I’m not sure what I was thinking.”

He stood there with wide eyes, hands on his hips, shoulders rising and falling quickly with heavy breaths, truly in bewilderment at what had just gone down, as well as bewilderment at the woman standing before him. Something about her was so captivating that he had to force himself to look away after taking her in, hoping she didn’t think he was a creep from his reaction.

“Um, it’s ok, I just think you need to be more careful. Listen, I don’t wanna be pulled over on this stretch of road for too long, God forbid a real bear, or someone without good reflexes comes around, but, I’m glad you’re not hurt. Take care.”

And with that she rushed away, leaving Ari standing there in shock before he could even squeak another word out. He watched her and the trailing SUV until they rounded the bend and went further up the mountain.

Huh, there was only one house Ari knew of up there. It’s where an older couple used to stay during the summers, and he had only been inside once to help fix something after they sought out the ranger in his cabin, but he remembers it having the best view he could imagine, despite the cabin’s modest size. It was pretty much the perfect home. What a was she doing going up there?

Realizing he had stayed standing eerily close to the road for too long, Ari decided it was probably time to head back since the sun had started to set. He trudged through the tall trees and deeply inhaled the sharp pine scent that opened his airways and comforted him as it wrapped around him like a blanket. This was his domain, and he truly enjoyed the sanctity of his environment, but he still wished he had someone to share his favorite things with. An equal partner who appreciated this environment as much as him, but still had their own wants and didn’t force him to be what he wasn’t.

As he made his was back to his front steps, Ari looked up at the unobstructed stars that danced into the sky during his long walk home, shining brightly like every night. He couldn’t help but wonder if the one for him was looking up, sharing the same sky as him. The one who could one day share his heart.

Next >

#Spotify #Ari Levinson #mountain ranger! ari x reader #mountain ranger ari x reader #mountain ranger! ari #mountain ranger Ari #park ranger ari #park ranger! ari #heartbreak on the map #bigger houses #bigger houses series #dan + shay #bigger houses chapter 2 #bigger houses chapter 2 heartbreak on the map #ari levinson fanfiction #red sea diving resort #chris Evans

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nerdyjournals · 4 months

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Flowers have sad meanings too

Florist!Y/N

Many believe that working in a flower shop is all gumdrops and rainbows, but it's not. It's stories of heartbreak and sadness. I wish I could remember their names, but I can't grieve every one of them. No matter how hard I try.

Author's Note: 3/8 of these mini tales are based on encounters I have had while working in my field. They are INSPIRED and not exact.

DISCLAIMER: ANY SIMILARITIES THESE ENTRIES HAVE TO A PERSON, PLACE, EVENT, OR SITUATION IS COINCIDENTAL AND NOT INTENDED TO MIMIC ANYONE.

WARNING: THIS PIECE TOUCHES ON DEATH AND ITS AFFECTS, SUBJECTS OF DEPRESSION, AND ASSUMED SU1C1D3. IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO SUBJECTS LIKE THESE, PLEASE SKIP THIS POST.

Boy #1

He was a boy with his whole life ahead of him. His mother said that he was very protective of his siblings, so protective that it's what took him.

She said it was a break in, one that happened in the dead of night. She never heard it. All she heard was the sound of her daughter screaming for help as her husband tackled the man to the floor. She didn't even hear the gun go off.

He was on his way to college in the fall, full ride. He was very talented. They hope to release his works down the road, but for now, some things stay locked away. Not because they're bad or sad, but because the grief was too fresh.

Boy #2

He was an interesting story. A quiet kid that everyone thought was mean, but was a very sweet guy and an only child. He loved animals.

His flowers were ordered by his friends because his parents were too shattered by the news. One of them couldn't keep it together, ended up telling about him. He was off volunteering to help build houses when one of them collapsed on top of him and a few others. They came out with minor injuries, but he wasn't so lucky. They spew out so many things about his kind heart but stone-like demeanor. It hurt to see that it was also his undoing.

Other families came and ordered, many of them being young kids in the dance classes he taught. Many of the kids still not understanding why their favorite teacher wasn't coming back. His parents finally arrived to order, but my heart was too fragile to be there.

Boy #3

His sister wouldn't stop talking about how he had wanted to do a lot with his life. She said that he was going to the gym everyday to get stronger. He was a gentle soul, a loving gentleman. Sickness took him far too soon.

It started off with a bad cough and a fever, she said. Then it just kept getting worse. By the time he was eighteen, he was fully living in his hospital room. It broke her heart to see how he dwindled away until he was almost nothing but skin and bones. She was thankful that he went in his sleep, going painlessly.

She couldn't stop repeating that she felt like a bad sister, that she should've done more to help him recover. It broke me a little more on the inside when I couldn't tell her that it wasn't up to her to fix him. I could only stay silent.

Boy #4

Only one person ordered him flowers, but it was a lot of flowers. Other than his parents, this boy received flowers from dozens of people. Friends, teachers, acquaintances - you name it. They all ordered through one person as they were the only one in town.

The pieces were extravagant, ranging from small vases to large sprays. They said that they wanted to reflect him; an artist surrounded by colors. No one knows what took him; whether self or sickness. They just found him in his studio one cold winter morning, slumped over an unfinished painting.

They said he'll have a gallery set up after the service, show off the wonders he created. I might go. If not just to see a fellow tortured soul. One day, his name will be known alongside the greats. For now, he'll be known to me.

Boy #5

His flowers were ordered over the phone by his mother, said something about it becoming too final if she stepped into the store.

I heard about this boy on the news. They found him in his car, just off the highway. He was so young, but the demons got to him before anyone else could.

I could only sit silent as she cried in my ear, blaming herself for not helping him. Little does she know the demons live in everyone. Including mine.

Boy #6

This boy was proof that the brightest smiles hide the darkest demons. His sisters couldn't hold themselves together as I flipped through the binder. The older one said that she blamed herself, saying that she should've seen the signs.

He went as he slept, passing in silence. She said that he had been bullied for years, but since he stopped talking about it, they assumed it stopped. They found him gone in the morning. I can never understand how some people find it acceptable to be so harsh to another.

They showed me his photo. He had a bright smile, one that was even wider with his family. It almost breaks my very soul that he suffered alone.

Boy #7

This was my first family order. The poor family was lost due to a faulty monoxide detector. The remaining members were in the middle of suing the landlord on top of mourning the family.

They didn't know until the son failed to show up for school for three days, unlike him they said. Same for the parents.

The boy was said to start high school next year. They were all excited since he would be attending the private school near the edge of town, one that was hard to get into without good grades. Now, the world could never see what he would amount to.

Boy #8

He was a child.

No mother should ever be allowed to outlive her baby. He was innocent, a victim of medical circumstance. They never said what he had, but they ordered him a beautiful urn display.

His younger brother, one still so small, would almost never know about the brother who left too early. His older brother was deployed, but is in an emergency flight back over to give his good byes.

A child...goodness.

#kpop fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz fic #skz imagines #skz au #skz fanfic #skz x reader #stray kids texts #stray kids text imagines #skz angst

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roxannepolice · 7 months

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hi!!! hows it goin i’m here to dump my thoughts about simm!master/lucy vs ten and martha cause i have MANY. also a disclaimer before i begin that i’m white and that likely does color my experience as a viewer compared to a BIPOC viewer. anyways: i’ll start with ten and martha because by sound of drums we’ve spent all season watching them and its that already established dynamic which i think lucy/saxon are meant to parallel in a way. you have ten very much still grieving rose and his entire planet, which makes him try and push away any new companions for a bit. but he’s still looking for - and i think needs, in a way - this kind of connection where he can depend on someone, and ideally they could depend on him. however. ten sucks at this second bit. for the entire season. so he’s in need of this connection despite not wanting any whatsoever, emotional intelligence completely out the window right now since he’s grieving x2, and martha unfortunately walks in right in the middle of this. so you get this dynamic really starting from i’d say the shakespeare code wherein martha is carrying a lot of the weight in their relationship. ten will entrust her with the most deeply personal shit (like his memories of gallifrey, his feelings on losing rose, even in 42 where he’s like "i’m scared i’m so scared" where he depends on martha for emotional support) and then when martha’s like hey can i get some support here or something ten’s like “uh sorry all out too busy being sad” i mean that's a bit exaggerated/summarized but thats the vibe they have. in the beginning he doesn't even admit she’s traveling with him! he’s all “just one trip” “just one more” and refuses to make a concrete decision that martha really needs him to make already. and despite this emotional unavailability shtick ten still relies on martha quite a bit! off the top of my head you have 42(martha freezing/unfreezing ten as he screams in pain), blink (they get sent back to the 1960s… and only martha gets a job???), and. human nature. wherein martha endures racial abuse alongside lesser shitty working conditions in order to ensure the doctor doesn't get his body possessed or something. and in the middle of it this human version of the doctor falls in love with another woman(after basically uh leading her on for the whole fucking season) (sure maybe unintentionally but that's not the point here) who. also was racist to her she's not even a nice person. and her only friend in this godawful place gets possessed. and human doctors a dick to her. and i think. i reflect on it and i come to the conclusion that ten very much does expect martha to just… do his job for him sometimes. handle all the dirty work like making sure human him doesn't get distracted or hurt or die. and still immediately after is like haha we are in 1960 now. i will not get a job what is that. why do you want me to “communicate” or “pull my weight” you’re traveling across space and time lol.

and the master and lucy are a darker extension of this dynamic that i actually haven't really seen people talk about much!! the master is very clear about why he married lucy, and there is no love/admiration/respect whatsoever in there. it is purely a means to an end - her family gets him influence, and she helps him carry out his plans. he gives nothing to lucy, only takes. which is in itself a mirror to ten & martha - the audience knows ten isn’t intending to be malicious in how he treats martha throughout the series, but when paralleled to lucy & the master i think you really get a sense of the harm this can cause down the line. what resentment this kind of dynamic can lead to. and ALL THE WHILE martha is walking the entire planet for a year to save all of humanity while ten hangs out aged 100 with his little tent & dog bowl & seething sorta-ex-husband-boyfriend-whatever. i mean he doesn't have the best time either but he also doesn't have to do that much and also is perhaps a bit too happy about not being the last time lord to fully grasp that hey, uh, humanity's in pretty dire straits right now. martha watches as the master turns earth into a living nightmare, slaughters millions of people on a whim, turns ten into a 900-year-old tweety bird, and tortures her family for a year, only for ten to go “guys dw i can fix him lol we’ll just live in the tardis for eternity together” as if she hadn't had to fight for that too. and ten is still shocked-pikachu-face when she goes “yeah no i’m leaving. i gotta get out.” and that is very much similar to lucy's moment in a way! where she sees the doctor forgiving(without really considering everybody else's opinion on the Past Year), martha's mom talked down from killing him, even Jack is talked down from his confusion at the whole idea, and i think in that moment she goes. okay. you guys can forgive. you guys can let him walk away having just taken, taken, taken everything without any repercussions. i meanwhile have this gun and two years of pent-up rage coursing through my veins. and both of these moments - martha leaving, lucy firing the gun - come at a shock to the doctor and the master. i mean you can see the master's little "oh" face when he gets shot. even if he plays it up like he expected it after i don't think he considered it before. and i think on a certain level neither really expected to be called out like this - ten because he’s got the emotional intelligence of a baseball bat, the master because he doesn’t think humans are capable of wiping their own asses - so in both of these moments in LoTL theyre like "wait i didn't know you could do that"

anyways tl;dr thats why i think lucy and the master are a darker parallel to the doctor and martha in their own way. which feeds into the rest of the finale where the master is just showing the natural extremes to who the doctor is - this is that toxic dependency taken to its natural worst possible place, where you treat someone as a tool rather than as a person. the master's generally a great foil to the doctor but the series 3 finale is just a fantastic example of it i think.

OMG, thank you so much for sharing your thoughts like this! And I love your thought process here so much.

First, absolutely, Martha is the case of right person, wrong time... which is probably what makes hers my favourite companion arc - as I like to put it she travelled through hell and pulled her Virgil (because yes, the Doctor absolutely always has this guide role that brings Virgil to mind, at least in companions' first episodes) to the Earthly Paradise in the process. There's a lot of debates going on about whether Ten was leading Martha on, because on the one hand - well, he's very clear he's not into her romantically, on the other - ok, bitch, you made it clear the kiss doesn't mean anything, but also you hit off with flirtatious winks and end showing off time travel while also casually showing off your Adam's apple. Yeah, a girl can make deductions. And you're right that this superficial frankness is mirrorred in Master's relation to Lucy - though if anything he's crrepily keen on playing a caring husband, what with the 100% performative hug he gives her while the Toclafane are hacking a journalist up. Though I suppose in his head this is what the Doctor does as well when they comfort their companions. And let's give it to Ten - when he said he's not going to let Martha *checks notes* fry in a small capsule in far space because of a sentient sun, he does bend head over tits and does as promised. But historically it has happened that the Doctor's reassurances were hollow (future, but kind of most painful in Twelve assuring Bill he's going to de-cybermanize her only to later admit yeah not really an option... considering Saxon was there to witness this, I wonder if he marked this in his Notebook (of Rassilon) of Spiting the Doctor).

Ten's handling of the chameleon arch is kind of pathetic, thanks for pointing that out! Like, ok - if the Family gets a whole Time Lord lifetime it is a genuine threat to the universe, but his attitude of oh I'm just going to spend three months as a human in a random timespace, what could possibly go wrong, and anyway, Martha will be there to clean up any mess? is a mess. I do like John Smith's romance with nurse Radfem, though, not in the sense of shipping them, but more of an appreciation of the concept: a classic victorian/edwardian romance, but when you look at it from the persective of a BIPOC servant... it kind of becomes apparent both parties are dickheads. This does tie back to the Master in a way, because I think... want to think... that by the time the Doctor went oh no, we're better than a tyrant maniac that spent a whole year destroying the planet and torturing everyone in the room specifically, so we're not going to execute him, I'm going to put him in my nice spaceship and we'll have nice cuddle movie evenings instead, she was already hardened by the fact that he put her in an (unintentionally) tailor made emotional torture room for three months only to later reveal oh yeah, I could absolutely have handled them all along. Is just higher moral ground, innit?

I guess as all best foils do, the clue lies in the diffrences, though, right? Both Martha and Lucy end up deeply disillusioned with their respective semi-immortal twinks from space, but in one case there is still a disillusioned friendship (Ten's surprised Pikachu face, excellent comparion) and in the other there's only hate - and for good reasons! And where the Doctor grows to really respect Martha (and I wouldn't say he started off dismissive, I mean he is impressed when she tells him oh no mister, a doctor isn't something you just are, you have to earn the title) and is not just saddened but... humbled?... by her leaving, the Master shows up in EoT and is like Hey, my widow, did you miss me, hope you haven't remarried, that would be awkward to explain in the registry office :D!

*sigh* I suppose this is why tensimm is so special to me. It's 20 seasons of foil dynamic condensed into 5 hours. It really shows how thin the difference between the Doctor and the Master is. And how in the right circumstances, including the loss of the handy mirror villain to show how things can go wrong, a madman with a box can turn into an eldritch horror deciding the future of the universe. So, again, thank you so much for poining out yet another excellent parallel!

#ask #ahh i hope the answer was worthy of the ask because your analysis is so. good!#doctor who #doctor who meta #thoschei #tensimm #tenth doctor #simm!master #martha jones #lucy saxon #doctor who season 3

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chaoticbardlady99 · 1 month

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Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me (Spawn Astarion x F! Ghost Reader)

Chapter Five: Nisi Pellis Nostra (SOS)

Synopsis: The Lich reveals his fate for you and your 'higher purpose' after a series of experiments that leave you feeling hopeless. The Spawn Monster tries to reassure you that everything is going to be okay.

CW: Mentions of gore, mentions of non consensual surgical-esque procedures on Ghosts, basically I've been watching a lot of Criminal Minds lately, being changed against a character's will.

Disclaimer- put together the picture for the banner, but I do not own any of the pictures. Birdie's 'image' is a stock image. I will not describe the readers body in detail- she is just merely on the banner for ✨drama✨. I believe the picture of Astarion is from @cheekylittlepupp . And then the symbol of Orcus in the back is a free image off the internet.

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all your support and love!

Chapter 4 : Chapter 6: AO3

You know you have only been in the liche’s ‘care’ for a little over 24 hours now, but it feels like you have spent forever and a day down here already.

Yesterday he had performed multiple experiments on you by seeing how your body responds to various types of magic. You are extremely sore

It’s just you, Leon’s desecrated body, and the Spawn Monster. You’ve had a few exchanges with the creature as it tries to tempt you into conversing with it.

You want to, but it’s too confusing and makes you feel sick.

Aurelia had been Cazador’s first spawn and she had fought so hard to keep him from being angry with her while Astarion turned towards malicious compliance.

After Aurelia came Astarion and then Dalyria. Dalyria has always fascinated you with her brilliance and pension for medicine as well as modern tactics. She did not believe in the Gods nor that they would save her so she was determined to save herself.

Violet and Yousen became spawn within days of each other and fought like cats and dogs- neither one of them willing to be the Scratch of the duo and keep the peace. You did enjoy their pranks on each other (when they weren’t ridiculously cruel).

Petras had been maybe two, three decades before Leon- who only became a part of the coven a decade ago. Petras' dullness had driven Cazador, Astarion, and frankly, everyone mad. You have never met someone so dense in your entire existence, but at the end of the day, he was always good. He tried to keep his intentions as pure as possible and despite Astarion’s disdain for him, Petras did adore him and considered him his brother. He had been the hardest one to crack regarding Astarion’s location in Baldur’s Gate that day so many months ago.

“What does dick cheese mean?”

It’s a fair question that not even you can really answer- to be frank, you had kind of panicked when Leon had turned on you with his hackles raised. You just threw out some words to break up some of the anger.

You want to look over at the other siblings- you are desperate to be able to look over and see them all separated- somewhere far away and happy.

Somewhere safe where Leon’s grief could never- would never- touch them.

“I honestly don’t know,” you whisper, “I was just throwing out words.”

“It was clever,” the Spawn monster says, “it made me think of a STI.

“Which Leon has been for a while.”

You snort and look over, only to look away again. Your heart is truly broken for them. You will never complain about being stuck as a Ghost again- you are very very lucky.

Astarion will be devastated, despite what he would lead others to believe, he does actually care about the individuals he suffered alongside with in Szarr Palace. He will be especially upset to see Dalyria, the one he does consider a sister through and through, is gone. He will even grieve Petras who he pretends he is incapable of tolerating.

You shake your head- yes, he will grieve, but you will make sure he doesn’t fall to his knees and let life guillotine his heart. The survivors' guilt will not win- you will make sure of that- and if there is a way to save the Spawn, they will find it.

“Is it that bad?”

The sadness in their voice is still recognizable through the heavy slurred speech. You nod numbly. There is no point in lying.

“I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for!?”

This time you do look over and face your fears- looking her in her eyes (well Aurelia and Violet’s eyes). It’s odd how you can see how the five distinct personalities are still there all from a look or a change of posture.

A sudden burst of pain causes the creature to keel over and cry out- the stitches glowing with an angry red color.

The monster looks you in the eyes with tears.

“We’re a monster,” it says, “we should have stopped Leon the moment Yousen and Aurelia went missing. We suspected, but thought it was too good to be true. Leon couldn’t do this to us.”

You shake your head aggressively, trying to will your own tears away. This is not about you- you're not the one who has had your autonomy ripped away time and time again.

“You will not apologize to me for something out of your control,” you say softly, “Leon made his own choices. I wish they hadn’t involved any of you.”

“We know,” it says, “we appreciate it.

“And personally,” this time you know it’s Dalyria, “I am grateful to you for taking care of Astarion. You need to promise you will continue to take care of him.”

There is a finality in their voice that causes you to release a choked sob. They don’t plan on ever being saved or fixed.

“Birdie, you must do us a favor.”

“Okay?”

“You have to destroy us.”

“What!?” You hissed in surprise, “no!”

“Please,” it begs, pleads, a tear going down Dalyria’s face, “it hurts- he will continue to refurbish us like he has been doing. The remainder of our bodies- they have been scattered around. We will never be able to rest while he continues to resurrect pieces of us at a time.

“Last time, Petras was doing all of the talking until he became annoyed with Petras. That’s why his lips are stitched shut with silver- any talking will make his pain worse.

“Don’t leave us here to suffer.”

“But what makes you so sure I’ll be out of here anyhow? Maybe we can find a way to save yo-“

“No,” it says, “there is no way to undo what has been done.

“We can still feel his emotions to an extent. Half hysterical and racing to get here. Nervous, scared that he has lost you permanently. Cazador is dead, but our own connections are still there- faint, but there.

“Promise us that you will destroy us- every last piece.”

You take a shaky breath in- maybe you should also be concerned for your own survivor’s guilt.

“Okay,” you whisper, “I promise- if it has to come to that, but don’t give up hope.”

The sad smile is unsettling and full of rows of razor sharp teeth- you breathe unevenly and try to calm the galloping in your chest.

It may not matter that you know who they are- it’s still terrifying and unsettling to see them this way.

Clanging from down the hall- you can hear the Shadar Kai soldiers coming towards you. You wish you could turn invisible and hide, but whatever magic is around your cage is preventing you from being able to cast anything.

The lich walks into the room- an unsettling smile across his dead, rotting face. He stares into you as if he can see your entire existence. It’s been one whole day of not being bothered of him- you knew becoming complacent was a bad idea.

The Spawn monster protests and slams against the cage- trying to keep the Lich from reaching you, but it’s too late. Your body feels like jelly and you begin to unravel to the floor- your form is absolutely paralyzed.

“Leave her alone!”

“SILENCE!”

A ripple of red, angry magic goes through their body and the scream that echoes through the room makes you cry and your heartbreak. They just wanted to help you- you will find a way to help them. This will not be the end for any of you- you are determined to save yourself and them.

You may not be very big Birdie, you think, but apparently you are pretty strong for whatever reason and you know how to use Bardic Magic to an extent. You know how to use Vicious Mockery and you have a decent amount of cantrips like Firebolt and shocking grasp. You just need to break whatever hold he has on your body. You can do this Birdie- you badass bitch!

You continue to hype yourself up in your head as they carry you off down the hallway by your limp limbs- at least it doesn’t hurt.

You focus with everything you have in your body and begin to chip away at the grasp the liche has on your body.

“How very fascinating,” the lich muses as you are laid down on a stone slab, “you are rather strong and you think rather quickly on your feet for someone who died so young. I wonder what secrets I will find inside you…”

Gods no. This isn’t happening to you- the knife begins to cut into your abdomen like your skin is butter and it’s horribly painful- the blade coated in silver and silver itself. Even if you do regenerate (hypothetically you should) it’s going to hurt and take a lot longer than you would have hoped to heal.

You can feel the lich enforce his will on you and you are forced to lay there quietly- entirely unable to move and no matter how much you try to fight against his grasp- it doesn’t happen.

He pulls out each of your organs- inspecting them and it hurts. You can feel him put your heart in other, dead bodies- seeing if the body will come to life. It does- momentarily, but then you begin to choke and the body dies and your heart is returned to you.

You have never been touched before by anyone and now? Now you just feel violated. You stopped keeping track of what he was pulling out, putting in and out of other bodies before putting back in your own, and even scooping out ectoplasm surrounding your organs. It all feels unnatural and painful- you zone out.

You are there for hours- you know because you’ve been counting the seconds in your head- trying to focus on every passing second instead of the grubby, evil fingers tearing you apart and putting it back together.

You give up- unable to justify trying to live through this if this is the existence you are doomed to.

For once, you don’t want Astarion to come. You don’t want him to see you this way and you hope he’s turned tail and ran away instead of rushing into danger to save her. Your tears begin to fall again- the Lich pulling out one of your eyes, commenting how fascinating it is that you are still able to produce tears without it before putting it back in to mend it back together.

You drift off into a land where this had never happened. Maybe a different time period, an alternate universe, where you are playing at a Tavern, a young bard trying to make a name for herself. A beautiful, cocky Magistrate walks up to you with life in his cheeks and blue (or maybe green?) eyes.

In this reality, Astarion courts you, adores you, and neither one of you is horribly traumatized to get there. You live a happy life together, you go on adventures, own a home together, and maybe even one day have children together.

Your parents would have adored him- you wonder if his would have adored you?

“Lubanac is going to be most pleased,” the lich hums, “you are going to be the perfect little creature for the Morbid Maze. I know exactly what I am going to turn you into!

“Ah here it is,” the Lich menancingly smiles at you and your own scream of terror reaches your ears, “a Necroplasm! It will take another day since I have more tests to conduct, but you’ll be one of these beautiful creatures soon, my beautiful little Ghosty.”

It’s just a blob of ectoplasm and bones. You whimper and begin to shake.

“Oh no, no, no,” the lich strokes your face, “do not cry little one- you won’t even remember any of this once I change you.

“It will all be over soon,” he coos, “and in the meantime- you are doing an honorable service for our Lord Orcus and his priest, my leader, Lubanac. You will have a higher purpose once again- you will protect the morbid maze and fight alongside Orcus. What a boon- I’m almost jealous.”

It’s a fight not to continue crying- not wanting to give the lich more curiosities to poke around with or a reason to turn you earlier- so you do the only thing you can think of doing.

You fall asleep.

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

You can feel all of your organs back in the right place within your body, but you feel entirely ruined to your core.

Astarion would never want you this way- used and rearranged, ectoplasm happily consumed by a lich who was constantly telling you every ‘fascinating’ detail he finds in your form as he worked. The lich at least gave you a bit more insight into your own condition- technically Donella did succeed in changing you, but she didn’t know how to resurrect you so that’s why you are stronger than a normal Ghost- you harbor some Spawn strength.

You went from being a Ghost, a Cat, a Person, and then a Science Project for a Necromancer. How fitting. Next? A necroplasm- unable to be saved or changed back to your original form.

“Are you okay?”

You look numbly in the direction of the Spawn Monster and their eyes look worried for you- your eyes are filled with angry tears, you can barely see them through your vision.

“No,” you choke, “I feel violated. I feel….

“I feel unworthy,” you whisper, admitting it outloud, “I feel disgusting.”

“We understand,” the spawn monster gives you a smile, “but you are going to get out of here and that will never happen to you again.”

You just shake your head, crying harder.

“I don’t know if I care anymore,” you sob, “I don’t want to go through that again- I can’t. He’s going to change me into, into-“

One of the creatures he showed you slimes by and it eats up the dripping ectoplasm on the ground like a starved dog- bones being stretched apart. The creature looks you in the eyes as if it knows and it lets out a wailing scream. You barely scoot out of the way in time before it’s limbs make it through your cage- a starving look in it’s eyes.”

“Shhhhh,” Dalyria’s voice soothes you, “you won’t go through it again- you will be okay. He’s coming as fast as he can.”

The spawn monster, as horrific as it is, leans up against the part of the cage that is close to yours- offering a hand. You crawl over and reach for it like a child- the creature, the remainder of people you care for, try to soothe you by running their thumb over your hand and keep telling you it’s going to be okay. That you are not allowed to give up any hope.

And that Astarion is on his way.

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

Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list! I am using the Ghostwalk campaign for NPCs, locations, etc. It is a 3e Campaign and doesn’t mirror 5e Ghosts. I have tweaked some of the ghost powers and such for the sake of the story, but if you would like more information on Ghostwalk and the City of Manifest, there is a PDF online that is free to download :)

Tag List: @n3rdybirdee @fandomarchiveilyd @dajeong @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @bitchstarion @hereliesblackdragon @pebble-bb @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lavvyan @beepersteeper

Special thanks to @davenswitcher thank you for helping me brain storm 💜

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