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hjparisian · 10 months

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you're losing me- theodore nott x reader

p: theodore nott x gn!reader w: kinda sad, angst summary: Theodore Nott and (Y/N) (L/N) have been close friends since they were kids. Realizing their feelings for each other, they pursue a relationship. Theodore begins to change and (Y/N) feels that they're losing him. a/n: i wanna apologize for how long it's taken for me to get this out, but i hope its still enjoyable. also do you guys like the summaries before the story? not sure if i should keep them or not

Theodore Nott and (Y/N) (L/N) have known each other since they were young. Being purebloods, they were put together with the other pureblood kids at parties. The first party they ever been to, the two clicked, deciding they were designated party buddies at these boring functions.

Aside from the Malfoy's, the (L/N)'s also threw numerous elegant parties. The (L/N)'s never cared for where the kids were as long as they were exhibiting proper sophisticated behavior when present. At one of the (L/N)'s parties, young (Y/N) dragged young Theodore to one of the many rooms in the manor, wanting to escape the adults. The room had rows of books from floor to ceiling, a fireplace, and big windows that brought in beautiful sunlight during the day.

From that day forward, that was (Y/N)'s and Theodore's room. (Y/N) would always bring Theodore to the room whenever he was over, whether it be during parties or the holidays, and Theodore would bring more books to add to the shelves. Sometimes they would invites some of their closet pureblood friends like Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, Blaise, and the Greengrass sisters, but to them, it was their room only.

Once the two began going to Hogwarts, they felt closer than ever, and the fact that they were both placed in Slytherin helped. If (Y/N) was in the library studying, Theodore was next to them helping. If Theodore was chilling in the common room with his mates, (Y/N) was sitting right next to him.

In fourth year, the Triwizard Tournament was taking place and the Yule Ball was announced. Everyone was scrambling to find someone to take. Theodore had only one person in mind though, (Y/N). He told them to meet him at the astronomy tower, where he stood there holding their favorite flowers, ready to pop the question.

"(Y/N) (L/N), will you make me the luckiest man alive by being my date to the Yule Ball?"

Much to his pleasure, (Y/N) said yes.

The day of the Yule Ball finally came and everyone was excited. Both (Y/N) and Theodore were nervous, not wanting to embarrass themselves in front of the other. The moment the two laid their eyes on each other, they didn't even notice the other people around them, all they saw was each other. Toward the end of the night, Theodore told (Y/N) his feelings, sparking a new relationship at Hogwarts.

Everything was going just fine, sure they may have small arguments, but Theodore and (Y/N) would always be able to patch things up. But things start to change in the sixth year. Theodore started to be more distant. He would either be late to breakfast or not show up at all. Everytime (Y/N) would ask if they could meet somewhere, Theodore would always reply with "Can't, I'm busy right now." This change was putting a strain on their relationship.

To everyone else, it seemed that Theodore and (Y/N) were fine, but in reality, there's an unknown battle going on. (Y/N) tried to appear happy in front of their friends, not wanting to worry them, but there was one person that could see through their facade. Pansy.

Every time Pansy would confront (Y/N) about this, (Y/N) would defend Theodore with their life.

"(Y/N), I can see things between you and Theo aren't okay."

"No! I mean, we're fine. Theo's just busy right now with school."

Pansy knew that they really cared for Theodore and don't want to face the facts that their relationship is starting to fall. But by doing so, (Y/N) is slowly bleeding out from the pain he is causing them.

Before winter break, (Y/N) was invited to Slughorn's Christmas Party. Those who were attending were encouraged to bring a date. They decided to take a chance and ask Theodore to be their date, not wanting to go with anyone else.

(Y/N) was able to find Theodore in the common room reading, and decided to take chance.

"Hey."

Theo looks up at them. "Hey."

"I was wondering, if you weren't busy, if you would be my date to Slughorn's Christmas Party?" There was a slight pause. "Blaise and Pansy are going. I think Daphne too."

(Y/N) looks at Theodore, slightly scared for his response. The man took a breathe before answering.

"Sure."

"Good." (Y/N) said. "It's on the 20th at 8 o'clock. Dress nice."

Theodore Nott said yes to going. So why was (Y/N) disappointed by his response? It's because his response wasn't what they were expecting. Theodore's responses were typically more energetic, telling them there was nothing else he'd rather do than spend time with them.

Was this the beginning of an end? Is (Y/N) starting to lose Theodore? Or is it the other way around? Will Theodore lose (Y/N) by pushing them away?

The night of Slughorn's Christmas Party was not an exciting one. (Y/N) was deciding if they should just ditch it and leave Theodore waiting for them, if he even bothered to show up. But of course, Theodore wouldn't ditch them nor would (Y/N), having been taught manners all their life by their parents.

The two met up in the common room, deciding they could walk together to Slughorn's office for the party. The walk was painfully silent, until (Y/N) decided to break it.

"So. How have you been?"

"Fine." Theodore responds. "You?"

"I've been alright. Mainly doing school work."

Theodore hums in response, ending the brief conversation.

Luckily, they had arrived at Slughorn's office. Theodore opened the door and as they walked in, it felt like they were transported somewhere else. It seemed as if the Potions professor really out did himself, with all the gold, crimson, and emerald hangings, it definitely did not feel like they were in his office.

(Y/N) spotted their Slytherin friends and dragged Theodore towards them. Pansy stood with Blaise, who was holding her waist while Daphne Greengrass was chatting it up with Adrian Pucey.

"Hey, Pansy!" (Y/N) called out.

Pansy turned towards the two Slytherins at the sound of her name. "(Y/N)! Theodore!" She ran to give (Y/N) a hug, Blaise joining her to give Theodore their so called 'bro hugs'.

"You look stunning," Pansy says.

"Aw thank you Pansy," said (Y/N). "You do too!"

"And what about your other favorite Slytherin? Don't I look hot?" Blaise asks with a sly grin.

"Ah Blaise," (Y/N) begins to say. "You look absolutely terrible." A small 'Hey!' leaves Blaise's month as he looks offend. "Joking, joking!"

A voice calls (Y/N)'s name. It was Professor Slughorn.

"Ah (Y/N)! I'm so glad you're here. Come with me, I've got a couple people who are want to meet the (L/N)'s heir!"

"Oh er, sure Professor," (Y/N) tells him as he begins to drag them away.

"Worry not dear (Y/N) you'll be back with your friends soon!"

As Slughorn was bringing (Y/N) to meet some of his friends and alumni, (Y/N)'s eyes looked at Theodore, who wasn't even aware or concerned about their temporary departure. In fact, he was more focused on the seemingly wonderful conversation he was having with Daphne Greengrass.

While being forced to talk with numerous people, thanks to Professor Slughorn, (Y/N) couldn't help but keep looking for Theodore, hoping he was looking for them but to their disappointment, he was staring still staring into the eyes of Daphne, smiling as she was talking. He hadn't looked at them like that in ages.

They had to talk to Theodore.

(Y/N) turned to the lady that was currently chatting with her. "My apologies, I must be heading now, if you could excuse me." They began walking towards their supposed lover and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hello Theodore, Daphne. I hope you don't mind if I talk to Theo about something, do you?" (Y/N) asks.

"Oh no, go ahead," Daphne tells them.

(Y/N) had already begun to drag Theodore outside the party, pulling him into an empty corridor. As soon as they stopped, Theodore yanks his hand out of (Y/N)'s grasp.

"What is it you want, (Y/N)?" Theodore asks. "Daphne and I were in the middle of a conversation."

"What I wanna know is what is up with you? Since the start of this year, you've practically been ignoring me! Everytime I've asked to do something, you always say you're busy!"

"That's because I am busy-"

"Doing what? Spending time with Daphne? Avoiding us?"

"(Y/N), no. It isn't-"

"It isn't what, Theodore? I see the way you look at Daphne. It's how you used to look at me."

At this point, (Y/N) was struggling to hold their tears back, releasing all the anger, frustration and pain they've been holding in.

"This whole time I've been pretending everything was fine, but in reality I was waiting for you to do something to save us. To show that you still love me."

"(Y/N) I still love you."

"If you still did, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Theodore took a deep breath, obviously starting to get frustrated.

"Listen (Y/N), let's just go back to the party and talk about this later." Theo tells them.

"Oh? So you can avoid this whole conversation and me the rest of the night? To spend your night with someone else?"

"Honestly (Y/N), you're over exaggerating," Theodore scoffs. He turns and starts walking away from them.

"And where are you going?"

"Away. I think we need space right now. I'll see you after break."

Theodore leaves (Y/N) alone in the corridor. All (Y/N) could do was sob, feeling heartbroken. The next day, they took the next train and returned to the (L/N)'s manor.

"How has school been? Are you passing all your classes?" (Y/N)'s mother asked during lunch.

(Y/N) swallowed the piece of food in their mouth before responding. "It's been alright. I'm doing well in all my classes. I have O's and E's."

"And how are your friends?" (Y/N)'s father chimes in. "Oh and Nott's boy! How could I forget? How is he?"

"Oh Theodore! That boy is so sweet." (Y/N)'s mother said.

Of course they'd have to bring up Theodore. "Everyone's doing alright. We're just all busy with classes and preparing for NEWTs next year." said (Y/N), trying to avoid the topic of the Slytherin boy.

"You know," their mother begins. "I wouldn't mind if you and Theodore got married once you graduate from Hogwarts."

If (Y/N) had anything in their mouth, they would've done a spit take.

(Y/N)'s father agreed. "I think it would be wonderful! Uniting the Nott and (L/N) families."

(Y/N) didn't want to let their parents know what happened between the two. It would only cause more harm and could ruin any business going on between the two families. Besides, who'd want to marry the insecure heir of the (L/N)?

Not wanting to discuss this anymore (as well as losing their appetite), (Y/N) handing their plate to the families house elf before standing up.

"If you'll excuse me, I would like to do a bit of studying."

(Y/N) began walking straight to their room, until a specific set of doors caught their eye. They decide to take a detour and enter it. It was the room where Theodore and (Y/N) would spend their times hiding from the adults at the elegant pureblooded parties.

It looked about the same since they were last in it near the beginning of summer. Shelves of books filled from floor to ceiling, the fireplace was out, books strewn about on tables, and their most favorite part of this room, the large windows that shined sunlight on them. It was one of the major things that Theodore and (Y/N) liked about this room.

On one of the tables was a handkerchief with the initials T.N. embroidered on it. It was Theodore's.

One summer afternoon, (Y/N) and Theodore sat across from each other reading. Theodore heard small sniffs and looked up to see (Y/N) with tears welled up in their eyes.

"(Y/N) are you alright?" He asked them, concerned for their wellbeing.

(Y/N) looked up at him. "Oh, yes, sorry. I just got to a really emotional part in my book, but I'm alright."

Theodore put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a white cloth with the letters T.N. on it in gold.

"Here, (Y/N)," Theodore says as he hands it to them. "So you can wipe the tears. I hate to see you cry."

(Y/N) immediately takes the handkerchief and dabs the tears away. "Thank you so much Theo."

The boy gave them a smile. "Anything for you (Y/N)."

All (Y/N) could do was cry at the memory. The Theodore that they once loved, was practically gone. The love they had for each other has faded. They could no longer find the pulse leading to their love.

All that remain was the room that Theodore and (Y/N) had loved because of the light.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x y/n #theo nott imagine

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tarotwithavi · 5 months

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Messages from the universe

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

Masterlist

Paid services

Pile 1

Get ready for the amazing times that are about to roll in! Clear out any mental roadblocks both in the whimsical realm and the regular human world because there's an abundance coming your way, and guess what? There's plenty for everyone. It's like a big party, and you're invited! Believe it or not, magic is real, but it won't show up unless you're a believer. Magic is everywhere, especially in nature. you're a part of nature, so that makes you magical too. Embrace it! Your dreams are like precious gems. Keep them snug in your heart until you're ready to let them loose. Some might try to rain on your parade, and we don't want that. I'm like your cosmic genie, ready to grant your every wish just give me the word! Oh, and by the way, I drop hints in your dreams, so keep an ear out for my cosmic whispers. we're talking abundance and prosperity knocking on your door. Plus, get ready to meet your divine masculine! I won't spill the deets because, hey, surprises are the best.

Pile 2

Take a moment to reflect on where you are right now – living the life you once only dreamed of. Embrace the solitude as a chance to be in perfect harmony with everything around you. The greatest treasures often reveal themselves in the quiet moments. Your dreams are not far-fetched; they're grounded in reality. It's time to translate those aspirations into actions. If there's something on your mind, seize the moment and dive into it. Don't overthink; just do it. Sometimes, what you've been neglecting is about to unfold, and it's a hidden blessing. Revealing what's been concealed can bring a sense of liberation. Remember, you're a pure soul. Trust in the innate purity of your heart. Dive deep within, and you'll discover the answers to your lingering questions. Have you ever been told you possess wisdom beyond your years? Now is the perfect moment to tap into that inner wisdom to navigate through the challenges that come your way. Trust yourself—you've got this.

Pile 3

Alright, as you step into this fresh chapter of your life, it's crucial to find that sweet spot between your emotional and logical sides. Let those emotions flow, but also let reason guide you. Now, about those anger issues – time to put them on a leash. This new phase calls for a more composed and collected version of yourself. Picture this as a rebirth – leaving the old you in the rearview mirror. It's a shedding of the unnecessary, starting with those folks who aren't adding value to your journey anymore. Cut ties where needed. And those old habits? Yeah, give them the boot. They've overstayed their welcome. Excitingly enough, your spark is making a comeback. Life is about to get a splash of passion, and you'll feel alive like never before. Things that were lost in the shuffle are about to resurface. It's like a treasure hunt, and sometimes, people come into our lives like treasure hunters, helping us rediscover things we didn't even know were missing. Embrace this upcoming rediscovery – it's about to get interesting!

#tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a card #free readings #free tarot #tarot #pick a pile #tarotblr #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a card tarot #tarotwithavi #tarot witch #tarot blog #tarotcommunity #full moon #tarot messages #tarot magic #tarot readings

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channelinglament · 1 year

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When you hadn't logged in for a few days

Ft. Diasomnia (💀)

Summary: Basically you hadn't logged in twst for a while now (could be 2 days or more) for whatever reason. But sadly you didn't know, that your game is sentient.

Tw: yandere, bad grammar, death, murder, religious themes.

🐀 (it's me, the anon-) @writingforatwistedworld

Lilia

Plz forgive this world that is full of sinners-

Fr prays and slays (people)

Alright, let's begin on how it happened:

Lilia was as always waiting for your return. He made himself look presentable, and stayed nearby ramshackle to greet you when you log in (aka when you get weekly stuff like gems and etc)

You didn't come back that day, sadly.

So what does our dear fae do?

Pray. A lot.

He is afraid that he or someone has somehow wronged you.

We're you busy?

Were they not praying hard enough?

Did he need to kill someone-?

And like that, he tried to sleep.

The same was on second day.

But when the third day (afternoon actually) comes, oh he is going insane.

This world is so full of sin! It is filled with sinners to the brim isn't it? That's why you aren't coming back, he's sure of it!

So, the massacre started. You can't tell me otherwise. He prays that you come back, while he slays those, he deems sinners.

If it's for you, he's ready to starts/wage a war again.

Malleus

Congrats, it's the end of the world!

Trust me, if you logged in right at that moment, you would have the longest log in in your history.

Unlike Lilia, he immediately panicked. While you weren't around, the weather was terrible.

A few people probably died because of the thunder

He prays, and prays hard.

On the second day he tries to use his magic to see what you're doing (your camera)

If you're playing another game then he immediately destroys(burns) the world.

If you're busy, tries to wait.

If talking to someone, the first option happens aswell

On third day it's the end of the world. Literally.

Unless you decide to log in, at that exact moment, say bye-bye to everyone alive except a few faes and maybe people.

Silver

Understands that you may be busy.

But still prays nonetheless. (He was raised by Lilia, a cute lunatic after all)

Honestly is afraid that someone might've hurt you. What if you're in danger and he doesn't know about it??

He's supposed to be your knight in shining armor, protect you with his life. What if you're in danger rn and he cannot do anything about it???! (Not like could've helped even if you were, he's in game. But he could've told Malleus or Lilia, then you'd be in game sooner than expected)

Similarily to Lilia, starts massacring people calling them sinners.

But I feel like it's at the end of 2nd day? Stealthily btw

He was sleeping, then heard noises. People were talking about you and how they thought you abandoned them.

He was angry and uhh

Made ketchup for Lilia to cook.

Even if you did abandon them, it's not your fault! But he's sure you didn't, they probably just needed to get rid of sinners that have wronged you and made you upset!

Sebek

Screams

Shocked

Prays

And then

Starts giving you offerings.

Since the day 1

He definitely needs to try harder! Everyone needs!

The reason you're not here is because they're not praying hard enough! They're not offering you what you would like! Of course you won't come back if they won't!

Literally kills everyone left and right.

And offers them to you.

Negative two out of ten, would not recommend.

Fr, he doesn't think that it could be 'cuz you're busy. Probably you're offended that they haven't devoted themselves to you completely.

He wishes that everyone would be like them, on valley of thorns. But sadly, some see you as an equal or just an all knowing entity. Or even worse, but he doesn't talk about Shaftlands. At least some nations are good.

But he still thinks they're wrong in thinking you can have flaws too.

It's their fault for you leaving them!

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highladyjane · 1 month

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Y'all, my husband is getting into his Elriel era and making points 😊😂

My husband as soon as I opened my eyes this morning:

Is Elain the one who lives in Rosehall? Or is it a place where you go buy roses?

Me: Huh?

H: I just finished this chapter... Rhys told Azriel to go buy presents and go to Rosehall. Does Elain live there?

Me: I think you read all of that wrong... They said a "her", right? Who do you think that "her" means for Azriel?

H: Elain?

Me: Uh... What made you think that? Can you think of another "her" for Azriel who might live there?

H: His sister? Mor?

Me: When did they mention Azriel having a sister? And Mor lives with them. Think again.

H: Oh, um... His mum's still alive?

Me: 🤦🏻‍♀️ Did they ever even mention her getting ☠️?

H: Oh, right... It was Cassial's mum who was ☠️, right?

Me: CassiaNNNNNNN! And yes, it's most likely Azriel's mum who lives there and who he's buying presents for. The place is just called Rosehall... I don't know why though. But what made you think Elain lived there?

H: I think they mentioned she and Nesta moved out... And because she likes gardening and is always about roses and flowers so it just sounds like her place... And earlier in the chapter, I think Rhys was trying to get a reaction out of Azriel about Lucien and Graysen... They're both connected to her, and Azriel doesn't want to spy on Lucien because he says he's Elain's mate. Rhys seems intrigued, because I really think Azriel likes Elain. Is he courting her?

Me: What makes you think that? Did you read it anywhere?

H: Isn't it obvious?

Me *slightly stunned over his choice of words, obviously*: What is?

H: Well, because of everything that he did for her during the war? When he went to save her and then he gave her that knife that he hadn't even let Mor or Cassial- CassiaNNNNN touch. He could have given it to Feyre, his High Lady if he wasn't going to fight and if it didn't matter so much, but he gave it to Elain. And I don't know... I just think their personalities make sense together... They seem to be the quiet ones who likes being at the side of everything or keep to themselves. They make me think of old couples who like sitting in their garden drinking tea all afternoon while the children's making a mess. *I laughed so hard at this* So I thought that's who Rhys meant lived in Rosehall and why Azriel's going there... to woo her.

Me: Not everything's about Elain for Azriel...

H: But everytime they mention "Elain" or "Azriel", the other is always mentioned right after. They keep being pointed out. Like Cassian and Nesta. I think they're going to end up together... Do they end up together in the next book?

Me: We'll see. You'll have to keep reading to find out.

H: Maybe Elain reminds Azriel of his mum... So he likes her and that's why he was protective of her...

Me *trying to gauge if I even have the mind to explain the Oedipus complex before having coffee to him*: You mean he'd court her just because she reminds him of his mum?

H: I mean, if his only family is his mum and he's actually close to her, a guy is more likely going to like a girl he knows would obviously get along with her, right..? Poor Lucien though. *chuckles* Maybe Elain will like him back at some point, but I think it's going to be Azriel... I don't know. They just make more sense right now.

If even my husband thinks it's obvious, it's pretty fricking obvious.

#ACOFAS is peaking with Elriel hints and should NOT be skipped i'm telling you #acofas #elain x azriel #elriel #elriel supremacy #husband reacts to acotar

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professional-yapper · 2 months

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Aonung x Albino reader? 🙏🙏

Burn

Aonung x Albino! Reader

Warnings: sunburn ig?, awkward Aonung (he can't flirt to save his life this is true James Cameron told me himself), teasing as flirting, the tribe they're from is giving cult x

"This is stupid, Vipka," you huffed, ducking under a branch as you followed your twin brother's ghostly figure closer and closer to the edge of the dark forest that your tribe inhabited.

"Don't be a wuss!" he called back, flashing you a sharp grin. "We might find something cool!"

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, or we'll find something dangerous, get ourselves killed, and end up in the Nothing. Eywa's word is that we stay here, in the Dark, where it's safe."

Vipka rolled his eyes right back, bounding towards you, grabbing your arms and giving you a little shake. "That's what the elders say. If Eywa wanted us to stay here, she wouldn't have made me so curious about what's out there."

You gritted your teeth, but couldn't find a proper response to that beyond a muttered, "That's blasphemous." And you relented, following your stupid, reckless brother towards the edge of the forest.

Not that you were sure there even was an edge. After all, no one besides the elders actually knew. You and Vipka were only heading in the direction that the elders went in when they left the village for reasons you and Vipka weren't allowed to know.

It really could just be the forest, going on forever and ever, and you would keep going until you went crazy.

A silent prayer formed on your lips, to Eywa, who had cared for your people even after they had been foolish enough to burn their Spirit Tree down. All that was left of the centuries-old catastrophe was a charred old stump held in reverence.

Once, your uncle had whispered a story to you of tribes far away, where the sun shone brightly and their Spirit Trees grew strong, and they could even connect with their dead through the Trees themselves. It seemed fantastical to you, who had grown up knowing upon death your people would go into the Nothing and never be heard from again. Eywa's punishment for her disobedient children.

But after all... You wondered if it could be true. If you and Vipka walked far enough, would you find a tribe with no Nothing, with a Spirit Tree that grew and flourished and kept their ancestors safe?

You didn't know whether to hope so or not. Would you even be able to return home once the elders discovered yours and Vipka's disobedience? Perhaps Eywa would punish the tribe again. Maybe your family personally.

Once again you called for Vipka, but he ignored you and his pale, slender form disappeared into the trees, running now, fuelled by the adrenaline of doing something so forbidden.

Not that this was forbidden, just wandering through the Dark. But it wasn't really the Dark, anymore. The dark green of the foliage had bled away into a lighter hue, punctuated with bursts of colours. Flowers and plants and fruits that you shied away from, eyes wary as you picked your way through this new world.

You shielded your eyes against the strange light filtering through the trees, golden and hot against your skin, which was already taking on a queer pink tint that you recognised vaguely.

The elders were often this shade when they returned to the tribe. Vipka had overheard them calling it... the Burn?

You couldn't be sure, but you covered your flushed arms with your hands and kept going.

A squeal suddenly pierced the warm silence, and you froze, ears dipping and tail waving with brisk worry. "Vipka?" you called, taking a few stilted steps towards the source of the sound.

Another squeal, but definitely not Vipka. An animal of some kind. And voices. Loud, cheerful, calling to one another as they got closer, evidently following the squealing thing.

Hunters, maybe.

Not from your tribe, for sure.

You began backing up, preparing to turn and run like hell all the way back home. Vipka could keep going for all you cared, could be caught and eaten alive by the tribes beyond the Dark.

A large animal burst out of the undergrowth and you shrieked in fright, leaping back and colliding with something or someone, falling down in a jumble of arms and legs.

The animal veered away at your cry, thundering in a different direction.

"Damn!" the thing that had fallen down with you swore, shoving you off unceremoniously. "You scared it away, skxwang!"

"Fuck you!" you spluttered furiously, climbing to your feet and rubbing your lower back. You were angry. Fucking furious.

But then the strange Na'vi stood up, and you considered that it might not be a good idea to square up with him.

He was built like a tree. Broad and muscular and a weird shade of blue. Twice your size, at least. Could absolutely crush you into dust.

You didn't want to stick around and find out.

But before you could run, he grabbed your arm, pulling you back, staring at you hard with his weird pale eyes, dark curls plastered to his brow, entire body covered in sweat. "What are you?" he asked.

You shoved him in the chest, but he barely shifted, which was a solid blow to your ego. You were one of the stronger members of the tribe, and it scared you to think Na'vi of his size and strength were roaming wild out here.

Why would the elders ever come out here?

"You're one of those white Na'vi, right? From the deep forest on the other side of Awa'atlu?" he prompted, ears flattening as you kept quiet.

You stiffened. "How do you know that?"

"Your people- what do you mean, how do I know that? Your people come and talk with my dad all the time. You should probably cover up, by the way. You guys burn real easy," he added, tone almost friendly as he released your arm, seemingly realising it wasn't helping.

He knew? He knew of your people. He knew of the Dark. He knew the elders.

"But you're, like, my age," he continued, tilting his head. "I thought your people were all old and wrinkly. That's why you're white, yeah?"

You frowned. "Only the elders ever leave the Dark," you said slowly, wondering just how much you should tell this boy.

He chuckled, a surprisingly reassuring sound, even though he was holding a spear with the other hand. "What's the Dark? Is that what you call the place you're from?"

You nodded.

"So you guys don't see the sun much, huh?" he said carefully, glancing up at the blazing white spot in the sky above.

A swift shake of the head, and you didn't bother to follow his eyes. You could feel the sun well enough as is. Your skin felt flushed, hot, and it stung when you touched it.

Though the pink was a nice colour, you had to ask. "Is it poisonous?" you asked, trying to keep the distress out of your voice, running your fingers down your arm.

Another warm chuckle, and now he was looking at you with interest, which made your heart beat a little quicker. "No, you're just burning. Sunburn, you know? Cause you don't see the sun much-"

"Ever," you interjected briefly, stealing a glance above, at the great blue mass above you that went on forever, careful to keep your eyes away from the sun, though spots still danced in your eyes when you looked back at him.

He blew out a breath, curls jumping off his forehead briefly. "Okay. So you're from a freaky tribe where you've never seen the sun and live in the dark all the time, in the forest where the leaves are so thick the sun can't get through... What are you doing here? Did you run away?"

"Kind of?" you said, wondering what he was doing as he turned and scooped up a knife off the floor, then turned and started walking. Should you follow him?

"Are you coming?" he called back, gesturing for you to follow. When you caught up, he gestured for you to keep talking.

"I was following my brother Vipka. Leaving the Dark was his idea. He wanted to know where our elders go," you continued, tongue growing looser the more time you spent with this strange boy. Which might've been a bad thing. "Eywa cursed him with curiosity."

The boy nodded slowly, absorbing this. "And where's your brother now?"

"He ran ahead and I lost him," you shrugged. "But he'll turn up, either at your village or back home, if he gives up."

"I'm Aonung," the boy said briskly.

You told him your name, and he repeated it back to you carefully, grinning like it was an inside joke between you two.

"I'll take you home with me, then," Aonung shrugged. "My mother will know what to do. I- we can look after you till your elders return to my village." The tips of his ears flushed and you smiled, pleased with the sight, though you didn't know why.

"Sounds good," you hummed.

"Are all girls in your tribe as pretty as you?" he asked abruptly, looking straight forward as if scared to see your expression.

You blinked, then smiled again, wider, flushing, though you thought he probably wouldn't be able to tell since you were so 'sunburnt'. "Dunno," you chuckled. "I'll bring you home with me one day and you can see for yourself."

"I don't think they are," he said, glancing down at you and smiling, lips curling downwards.

"You haven't even seen them yet!"

"No, but I trust my gut," he said, slapping his abs with a proud look

"Oh, yeah? Was it your gut that made you run into me, too?"

"That- that was fate. Mother Eywa intended it."

"Or maybe Eywa cursed you with clumsiness. A deadly combination with how short-sighted you apparently are," you teased.

He gave you a little push, laughing. "Shut up! Why were you just standing there, is my question!"

You pushed him back, not bothering to put any effort into it, as the results remained the same and he didn't break his stride. "I've never been this far from home! I was taking in the scenery!"

"Taking in the scenery," he scoffed. "Take in this scenery." He got close to your face, which was probably meant to be intimidating but only made your ears drop bashfully, tail curling against your calf, suddenly shy as his nose almost bumped into yours.

He lingered for a moment, then seemed to realise his theatrics had gone wrong and backed up. "I mean- sorry, that came out wrong."

"No, it's okay, I like that scenery just fine too," you grinned, and he rolled his eyes in embarrassment.

"What?" you taunted, following him as he kept walking, more than happy to tease the hell out of him. "I thought you wanted me to take in the scenery!"

"Shut up."

"Make me."

I'm patenting this tribe actually, this freaky albino tribe, because I want to write lore for it. Let me know if anyone wants to read said lore. Enjoy anon! I had fun with the world-building!

#aonung #aonung fanfiction #avatar #atwow #avatar 2 #avatar fanfiction #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #aonung x reader #aonung avatar #aonung x you #avatar x you #fanclan #avatar fanmade clan #avatar fanclans

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famwhy · 10 months

Text

Right Way Up (02)

Stranger Things

Yandere! Steve Harrington X F!Reader, Yandere! Eddie Munson X F!Reader, Yandere! Billy Hargrove X F!Reader

Synopsis: You always hated when your favourite characters died in shows or movies; always longed to have the opportunity to save them. So when you're transported into one of your favourite shows of all time, what else are you supposed to do besides save your beloved characters?

Warnings: Threat/violence, Gore, Mentions of sexual content (implicit), Death, Manipulation, Depictions of toxic relationships, Drugs and alcohol abuse

Note: Sorry for the wait, my loves, but here's Eddie, Steve, and Billy to make it up to you 💕

prev part. masterlist. next part.

02. bring unto me vanity

enter: billy hargrove

YOU stood there, expression blank as you stared mindlessly into the Eddie Munson. It almost felt as though all your thoughts had left you the moment you bumped into him—flooding out in an endless, blank stream of nothingness you couldn't even begin to comprehend.

Then—not even seconds later—it all came rushing back.

Scenes of him lying in a pool of his own crimson, straining as he told Dustin about how he didn't run away—how he wasn't a coward for once. Scenes of the town believing he was some sort of satanic worshipper—vandalising his missing posters with pentagrams after he had just died protecting them. Scenes of Dustin informing Eddie's uncle of his noble death with tears streaming down his face; unrelenting in their cruel pace.

Scenes that always shot straight through your heart no matter how many times you rewatched them.

"Woah, hey, are you o—?"

You couldn't help it—the way you flew into his chest, arms wrapping around his back in a hug so tight—so inextricably emotional—that even the most affectionate of lovers, the most intimate of partners, would envy your outpour of emotions in that one embrace.

You couldn't help it because—because he was here. And he was okay. And he was alive—oh god, he was alive.

"Wha—?"

And apparently, he was also confused.

Get it together, Y/N. What kind of weirdo randomly throws themselves onto a stranger like that?

But he wasn't a stranger though, he was a character you had watched and grown attached to on screen; a beloved character you had witnessed die over and over again without being able to do a single thing about it.

But, a small voice prodded in the back of your mind, maybe you could do something now?

"Are you... okay?"

You blinked, further scattering a wet substance across your eyelashes. "Oh, yeah, um... it's just that—"

You didn't deserve to die, Eddie.

"—well, everyone is always so mean to you and— they're always like, calling you a freak just because you like playing a fantasy, role-playing game and it's just— it's so unfair because you seem like such a nice guy who doesn't deserve any of the shit that you get and I'm just— I'm so sorry!"

Ah, maybe you let out a little too much there, judging by the way he reacted.

His mouth had hung open, brown eyes wide in what you could only describe as disbelief, bewilderment and utter, utter shock.

For a moment, you were worried that you had accidentally made him malfunction or something; maybe said some type of dialogue that he couldn't compute and, therefore, couldn't respond to—like some sort of unaware NPC being told that they weren't real—which, in a way, is quite similar to his actual circumstance anyhow.

But then, to your utter surprise, he spoke again; in a tone that seemed light, almost—playful, even—"woah, uh, you always psychoanalyse people when you first meet?"—but... there was a waver in his voice, a vulnerability breaking through.

And you knew; you knew he was trying so hard not to let it break through.

Oh Eddie...

"No, sorry, uh—" you cut yourself off, pulling away to rest your arms against your sides, to really look him in the eyes as you offered, "—do you want to be friends?"

"Woah, hold up, Y/N L/N, the Y/N L/N—the Queen of Hawkins High herself—"

Queen of Hawkins High? You knew you were popular but—Queen? Damn.

"—is asking me, Eddie 'The Freak' Munson, if I want to be her friend?"

His words ushered the corners of your lips down and you felt that familiar constricting feeling in your heart again. "Don't call yourself a freak, Eddie. You're not. Please don't ever refer to yourself that way."

Cue the look of absolute astonishment making its way back onto his face.

"I uh—"

"Please, Eddie." Your fingers intertwined, eyes widening in what you hoped—prayed—was a look that resembled irresistible puppy dog eyes—

"Well, how the hell am I meant to deny you when you give me that look, sweetheart?"

—and resemble them it did.

"So, does that mean—?"

He smirked. "Yes, Queenie, I'll be your friend."

The voice at the back of your mind was louder now, hope swirling together with mere hypothetical scenarios to grant you a vision—a world in which Eddie survived the bat attack he was subjected to in season 4; a world in which you saved him.

And hey, if you were lucky, maybe you'd be able to protect him from all the awful bullying he was a victim of as well. Lord knew he didn't deserve it.

"So, would you mind me sitting in on one of your DnD campaigns?"

He blinked, looking confused for what was probably the nth time. "You know what DnD is?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. I, uh, know someone who plays it. I mentioned it just now, remember? Definitely not a game that encourages satanism."

A bubble of laughter left his lips—and you swore you felt a swirl of warmth gather in your chest—his pretty eyes crinkling up as he said, "yeah, it definitely isn't." Then, his hand rose up to the back of his neck before he continued, albeit awkwardly, "I uh, actually have one today after school, if you wanna..?"

He trailed off but you knew what he was about to ask—and so—smiled at him as you confirmed, "I would love to."

"Great!" He beamed—rather cutely, if you did say so yourself—before immediately faltering, and soon, his hand was back on his neck. "We should probably head to English, huh?"

So you shared your next lesson together? Sweet. Saved you the hassle of running around like a headless chicken trying to find your class.

You let Eddie lead the way, following behind him with a pep in your step as you passed by doors upon doors, each looking just as beat-up as the last—but you were too over-the-moon to criticise their condition.

Perhaps the reason you were so happy was because you genuinely befriended a super nice, super fun guy that you always wanted to talk to when watching the show. Perhaps it was because you knew you had a shot at saving him; at giving him another chance to live in this fictional world. Either way, your mood had definitely lifted and for that, you were grateful—

"Munson, L/N, you two are late."

—until, of course, you weren't.

Having arrived at class, you were met with a chorus of gasps sent your way, almost every single jaw dropping to the floor as soon as their eyes landed on you and your companion.

The lady in front of you had her arms crossed over her busty chest, eyes narrowed specifically at one of the two of you and said person seemed to be very aware of it.

Eddie parted his lips, a grin manifesting on his face as he seemed to gear himself up for some sort of speech; one that would never get to leave his lips—at least, not on your watch.

"Sorry, miss, I held him up a little." Your lips stretched into a sheepish smile as you shrugged.

Not bothering to hear what she had to say—because why would you?—you made your way over to one of the empty seats at the back. There was another one in the middle of the room—one surrounded by broad-shouldered kids all adorning the same, bright varsity jackets—but, you would much rather be taking the seat away from them.

Besides, the back seat had an empty one right next to it.

As soon as your thighs landed on the smooth—yet highly uncomfortable—surface of the wooden chair, you tilted your head up, eyes meeting with the sweet character you were just walking with, before one of your hands rose up and gestured towards the other empty seat right next to you.

Another gawk. Another chorus of dramatic gasps.

Oh my God, it's not that big a deal.

"Well, Mister Munson? Will you be taking your seat or will you keep holding the whole class up?"

Snickers; mocking and malevolent in their nature—all bouncing off the walls of the room and into your ears, edging your lips down.

It didn't seem to bother Eddie though, who only let out his own sheepish chuckle before making his way down the row of beaten desks to the empty one beside you.

Your lips twitched back up, then he opened his mouth—"you weren't kidding about wanting to be my friend, huh?"—and you found them twitching down once again.

"Of course not, Eddie. I'm not that—"

A new voice abruptly cut you off. "Ahem. Now where was I?"

You couldn't speak for the remainder of the class, but that didn't stop you from communicating with Eddie regardless. All you had to do was rip out a page from your notepad, write a quick 'I meant what I said', scrunch it up and throw it his way.

You had then propped your head up on your hand, elbow resting on the bumpy table as you leaned forward to really gauge his reaction. The goofy way his lips had tugged up was very much infectious and you smiled as he furiously scribbled back a response before sneaking a quick glance at you—one that resulted in him freezing up, eyes widening and pink rushing to his cheeks in a way that was so cute, you couldn't help but widen your smile.

His blush grew deeper.

He was quick to pull himself back together though, and soon, the rest of the lesson was filled with the two of you tossing that same, crinkled sheet of paper back and forth—each time filling it with more and more ink as small giggles bubbled out of your mouths; childish and carefree with a hint of awe. You felt like a middle schooler all over again—it was nice, it was fun—

—so fun, in fact, that time passed by like a flash of lightning and, before you even knew it, a 'brrring!' rang through the air; one that had you rushing over to Eddie's side, ready to accompany him out the door. Were you being a little clingy? Maybe. But it was the Eddie Munson, who wouldn't be clingy?

"Oh wow, being waited on by a queen, boy do I feel special," his words were accompanied by a light tone you'd heard many a time over the TV, one you absolutely adored.

"You should feel special. You're awesome, Eddie. I'll stop at nothing until you realise that."

He paused again, that pink colour from earlier returning to reign terror on his cheeks once more.

What a cutie.

You watched as he continued packing the remainder of his stuff in his bag, eyes trained on the glint of his solid-metal rings that would disappear and reappear from behind the rough cotton. Damn, how did they make him look so much more attractive?

Eddie was really attractive, you had no idea how no one in the school seemed to notice. The way his bouncy, brown curls framed his face—perfectly complimenting that pretty pair of eyes he was so lucky to have; the way he would exaggerate his hand gestures like a true drama queen—playfully joking about with a charm that seemed signature to him; the way he always seemed to—

"Uh, ready to go?"

You blinked. "Huh? Oh yeah."

How long had he been standing there with his bag slung over his shoulder?

"So, sweetheart, I was thinking... for DnD later, do you wanna join in or, uh, just sit and watch?"

"Oh, well, I'm not too—"

A pang; shot straight through your arm like a bullet—and all of a sudden, your whole body jerked to the side, eyes landing on a pair of brown ones; different to the ones you were just staring into.

The very pair of brown eyes that had been the first ones to greet you in this world.

"Ack! Steve!"

He was frowning, brows furrowed and eyes filled with so much dejection, you found yourself wanting to do nothing more than wrap him up in a loving hug and tell him he was worth the whole world.

"N/N," his voice came out soft, afraid, "what was that earlier? Did I... do something? Whatever it was, I'm sorry, please don't avoid me."

Dear lord, was he whimpering?

"No! Steve! No, no, no, no," you frantically shook your head from side-to-side, mentally beating yourself up for making him upset, "I just— I overreacted because of my arm."

One more cute, inquisitive stare from him and you finally broke. Damn his puppy dog eyes, was this how Eddie felt when you used them on him?

With a light sigh, your fingers found their way down the sleeve of your jacket, slowly bunching the material up to reveal the graying gauze underneath—yikes, looked like it was due for a change.

"Gah!"

Another tug—on your wrist this time—had you tumbling forward, almost smacking straight into Steve's chest had you not planted your feet and caught yourself in time.

He was so close—you could feel his breath on the bare skin of your arm, feel the warmth that radiated off his form. The proximity was almost causing you to lose focus in your vision, colours blending in to create blobs of indecipherable objects.

It didn't seem to bother him though, judging by the way his eyes stayed trained onto your bandages—not straying from them for even a second. Ever the caring one.

"What happened?"

"Oh, uh, just a wolf attack. It's nothing really."

"It's not nothing—" he finally looked up, gazing straight into your eyes with that familiar sense of concern given to you at the start of the day, and the day you arrived—you know? the one that never failed to give you a plethora of butterflies in your stomach? "—you're hurt. That could never be nothing."

Your breath was stolen from you for a few moments—unfairly and unlawfully—but soon, with a shake of your head, it (along with your vision) was seized once more. "Steve. I'm okay, really."

"At least let me take you to each class, please."

Well, when he put it like that—

But, in all seriousness, this was the perfect temporary solution to your problem and you were being handed it on a silver platter thanks to Steve. If you two really were as close as everyone claimed you to be, then Steve would definitely have your timetable memorised, meaning you wouldn't have to arise further suspicion by asking for a physical copy.

And have it memorised, he did. The rest of the day, he accompanied you to every class, looming behind you like a bodyguard and flat-out refusing to let you carry your stuff. Even when lunch came around and another pair of pompoms came to grab you, Steve was there to shut her down, not even giving you a chance to consider going to practice. Not that you would—you weren't stupid.

Soon, the end of the day rolled around and Steve was stood at the doorframe of your class, muscled arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wood with one foot crossed over the other.

"Let me drive you home."

You paused, hand frozen mid-air with a book slotted between your fingers. "It's okay, Cain's picking me—"

Just then, a thought occurred to you, and your mind dragged you back to your conversation in the early morning.

("I uh, actually have one today after school, if you wanna..?")

"—up..."

Oh shit, Eddie.

The book in your hand was inside your bag within milliseconds and you were right out the door in even less time than that, Steve's body having been slightly pushed aside in your haste.

"Woah, what's going—?"

You turned back around abruptly, almost causing him to bump into you had he not halted in time. "Do you know where Hellfire is?"

"Hellfire? That cult club?"

Your eye twitched. "It's not a cult—and I need to speak to Eddie."

His brows furrowed and his lips tugged down, expression shifting with an emotion you didn't have the time to decipher. "Eddie as in Eddie Munson? Super Senior Eddie Munson? Eddie 'The Freak' Munson?"

"He's not a freak, don't call him that." You narrowed your eyes before continuing, "and yeah, I mean Eddie Munson. So do you know where he is?"

"Why do you wanna know where Munson is?"

"I need to talk to him, Steve, now can you tell me where Hellfire is or not?"

"Are you sure? I mean, that kid sells some real serious shit and I don't want you—"

"Steve." Your arms folded over one another and you gave him the best stern look you could muster.

Luckily, it seemed to do the trick, and soon, he let out a large breath before briskly walking forward.

You blinked, watching as his back shrank with each step.

"You coming or what?"

Then, your lips stretched into a grin. "Coming! Thanks, Stevie!"

He didn't respond—and you could have been imagining it—but, your ears seemed to have picked up on a hitch in his throat.

Cute.

Steve led the way and you passed by a multitude of bland, white lockers—or well, meant to be white, they were obviously going grey with age though—before you found yourself standing in front of yet another tall, wooden door.

You rose a fist... and lightly knocked on it three times.

A muffled shout greeted you; a sign to open the door, probably.

Palm rested against the cold surface of the knob, you twisted your wrist and gently pushed against the weight of the wood.

A multitude of chairs, each one seating a wide-eyed member of the rejected club, with one specific throne placed at the head of a rather long table—Eddie's seat.

Speaking of the club leader, his arms stretched out the moment you peeked through the gap. "Miss Queen Bee! How nice of you to join us!"

You didn't even pay mind to the many gawks sent your way, practically used to it all by now.

"Hey Eddie!" You beamed and he smiled with just as much enthusiasm—though you swore you heard a growl coming from behind you. "I'm so sorry! I know I said I'd join you guys for this campaign but I completely forgot about my brother coming to pick me up! I'm so so so so sorry! I promise I'll join you next time!"

His shoulders sagged and he practically deflated, smile faltering as his eyes dimmed in lighting. It was only for a few seconds though, not even that long honestly, and soon, he was sending a gentle smile full of so much understanding your way—you almost flew over to give him another huge hug of utmost gratitude.

"It's okay, I get it. See you tomorrow?" His brows rose up and his eyes swirled with a sense of hopefulness you could never bring yourself to shut down.

"Of course," you spoke softer, eyes losing any hint of a sharp edge as you addressed him, "see you tomorrow!"

His smile was back, bright and blinding as ever—but before you could enjoy it any longer, your arm was tugged on and another pang shot through.

"Ack! Steve, seriously?!" You looked his way just in time to catch his furrowed brows and heavy frown, but his expression quickly shifted from one of fury to one of panic.

Wait... fury?

"Shit. Sorry, I completely forgot." He quickly took his hand off your arm in lieu of placing it on your shoulder, any hints of that previous expression now completely gone.

Did you just... imagine it?

"We should go, your brother's probably waiting for you."

"Yeah, uh—" you placed your hand over his own, brows furrowed and expression not all there, "—let's go."

Well that was confusing.

It wasn't long after your puzzling interaction that you found the grey, beat-down truck belonging to your eldest brother—parked up near the front of the school building with few vehicles nearby.

He was sat behind the wheel, elbow rested against the open window and used cig between his two fingers—still leaking the toxic gas youth in the 80s seemed to be so obsessed with.

"I'm guessing you wanna take her to school again, huh Harrington?"

Not wasting a second, your best friend nodded.

"Well, you never failed me before so I guess it's fine. If she's okay with it, of course."

Steve, once again, gave you those big, pleading eyes and—c'mon—how the hell do you refuse that?

"'Course it's fine with me, Stevie."

His lips quirked up and his eyes brightened much like Eddie's had earlier—though, unlike Eddie, Steve opted to go farther when expressing his delight.

How far? Well, his arms had wrapped themselves around your waist and you found yourself being pulled into a warm, sturdy chest—so, that far, you guessed.

You weren't quite... used to receiving affection so frequently—especially by a male friend. Though, judging by how naturally it seemed to come to Steve, he was normally quite touchy with you.

Now, you didn't particularly mind it, it was just... foreign to you—but, with time, you would definitely grow used to it. Besides, it was Steve 'The Hair' Harrington, who wouldn't want a daily hug from him?

"Alright, you two, break it up." Cain narrowed his eyes. "Don't think I don't see those wandering hands, Harrington. Don't you have a girlfriend?"

A particularly loud noise—that sounded like someone clearing their throat—came from beside you. It was followed by a sudden breeze against your waist and the following words—"they, uh, they weren't wandering."

"Sure." Then, with a flick of a finger, Cain's cigarette was sent flying through the air. "C'mon sis, time to go home."

"They weren't wandering, N/N—"

"I know they weren't, Stevie." You chuckled. "He was just teasing you."

You didn't let him respond—opting, instead, to ghost your fingers over his arm and wiggle them in one last goodbye before making your way around the truck, kicking a pebble or two while you were at it.

Your hand slotted between the handle and the knob, and with a pull—accompanied by a step up—you were off, leaving the dazed form of Harrington in the dust.

Houses, one after the other—zooming by in a blur of colours; of people and cars that still seemed so surreal to you. Being in the 80s was so... weird. There was one thing you hated for sure though—the lack of mobile phones.

Like, seriously?! What did a girl have to do in order to get some entertainment around here?! The TV shows weren't good and the VFX in films was enough to make you empty your stomach contents in a gross assortment of sickly green vomit. Maybe you were being spoiled but damn, living without the Internet to entertain you sucked.

"We've got new neighbours," Cain's voice pierced through your thoughts, "just moved in a bit ago."

New neighbours? Could it be...?

"When'd they move in?"

"A day or two ago." He shrugged.

"How did I not notice?" That question was more for yourself than him.

"We didn't particularly let you." But he answered anyway.

"Right. Did you see who they were?"

"They have a son, 'bout your age. Why? Do you wanna hook up with him or something?"

You slowly turned his way, expression scrunching up. "No, ew, you're gross."

"What? You're a teenager, it's only natural."

"True—but also, dude!"

His shoulders bounced up and down as he chuckled at your misery. Big brothers sure sucked sometimes.

"Alright, we're home. Get out, shithead."

You playfully rolled your eyes but obliged, jumping out of the elevated truck with a big swing of your arms before landing on the ground—a light 'thud' following after. Thank god you were on the sidewalk and not sinking into mud right now.

Well, now was as good a time as ever to test your little theory of who, exactly, had moved in to the previously-empty house next to yours.

Your eyes flickered to the side, scanning the house and frowning at the empty driveway that greeted you.

No blue camaro.

Maybe he was out on a drive? Cooling off some steam by recklessly going over the speed limit?

"What are you doing standing around? Get."

Guess it'd have to wait until tomorrow.

You twisted open the door to your house and were immediately greeted with the sound of grunts and plastic harshly smacking against plastic coming straight from the opening closest to you.

"What d'you wanna eat?" Cain's voice calls from behind you.

"You can cook?"

He sent you a weird look and you found yourself wanting to rip off a piece of duck tape, coat it in the most sticky glue you could find, and slap it bang in the middle of your lips.

"I've always cooked for the three of us."

"Right. Yes. You have always done that. Silly me." With a tiny giggle, you looked off to the side to eye the suddenly-very-interesting wall.

"Oookay, what do you want then?"

What did you want? You weren't particularly in the mood for anything—your mind was way too occupied for choices right now. How could you worry about food when your brain constantly replayed the events of the demodog attack and scenes that happened in Stranger Things as a whole?

"Alright—" you blinked, tossing your gaze forward again to see Cain heading to the kitchen, raising one rough arm to wave dismissively in your direction, "—I'll just make lasagne."

Then, you jumped as you heard a yell from the other room. "Fine by me!"

Maybe you could ask Curt if he had anymore info on the family next door. You were fairly certain it was who you thought it was but better safe than sorry, huh?

"Currtt."

You appeared from behind a pillar, slowly walking over to your second eldest brother with the most artificial smile you'd ever worn on your face.

"What?" His fist continued colliding with the bag.

"Do you know anything about our new neighbours?"

"Why the hell would I give a damn?"

Immediately, your smile fell. "Useless."

"What was that, you little shit?"

So much for getting info from him.

Well, you had time to spare so you might as well spend it gathering your thoughts some more.

First things first, you had no idea how to get back to your world—and to be entirely honest—you weren't sure if that was your top priority as much as surviving was. This was Stranger Things, a world that contained a hidden dimension filled to the brim with bloodthirsty, plant monsters that could, quite literally, rip you limb from limb.

There was also one glaring question that really stood out to you; one that prodded the back of your mind earlier today; that had you leaping into Eddie's arms in the first place. Could—

"Alright, shitbirds, dinner's ready!"

"Fucking finally."

Well, guess you had to wait for some other time to contemplate that question.

All three of you gathered at the table to eat and, as your fork prodded against the pasta sheets on your plate, you found yourself eyeing the two extra seats—empty and unoccupied. Were they for guests? Or perhaps... your parents?

Did you even have parents in this world? Curt and Cain never spoke about it—you never really saw anyone in the house other than them so... were you parent-less? It made sense seeing as Cain was the one who cooked for you three—a fact you weren't privy to before because of... wait, why didn't he cook before? You had been in this world for a few days now and you hadn't been cooked a single meal since arriving.

"Hey, Cain?" You turned to the eldest, keen on finding an answer to your question.

"Hm?"

"How come you never cooked before?"

"I have cooked before, what are you talking about?" He rose a brow.

Shit. Careful with phrasing.

"I meant like, when I was on house-arrest."

"Well, I don't know if you noticed but I was busy fixing a car commissioned to me by the Wheelers."

Ah, that made much more sense.

"Are you okay, Y/N? You haven't been acting yourself lately."

Well shit.

Before you could stutter out a response, he had already beat you to talking.

"Is it... 'cause of the attack?"

"Oh!" You saw the opportunity given to you and seized it. "Uh, yeah! I'm just... still shaken up by that wolf attack."

His lips tugged down and concern creased his brow, sending your heart into that constricting feeling for the nth time. You were starting to grow sick of it.

"You know what? I think I'm done."

"You barely touched your—"

"It was great, thanks, goodnight!"

"It's not even—"

You tuned out the rest of what he was trying to say, rushing up the stairs with loud 'thud's echoing after each step; hand barely resting on the rail as you zoomed by.

Did you have a valid reason for running away this time? Not really—at least, nothing as justified as when you ran from Steve before. Your only reason right now was... well, you didn't even know what it was.

All you knew was that your bed looked mighty comfy right now.

And comfy it was, you passed out as soon as you hit the mattress in fact, entering the land of slumber with nothing but the vast expanse of darkness to greet you when you arrived.

It seemed like only seconds passed before you felt your shoulders start to shake gently, long fingers wrapped around the exposed curves; long fingers you were now quite familiar with.

You eyes fluttered open and you were met with the soft, brown eyes of your best friend hovering over you.

"Steve? What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to pick you up, Nance is waiting in the car."

His words brought your attention to behind him, seeing the shine of the sun's rays making its way through the clear glass of your window to light up your room and coat it in a warm, yellow glow. Unfortunately, you couldn't bask in the beauty of the scene for long.

"Oh shit! It's morning?!"

"Yeah—did you... sleep in your cheerleading outfit?"

"Yes, yes I did, Steve. Now get out so I can get ready!" You sprang up, placing both of your hands on his shoulders this time before you spun him around and pressed your palms against his back, lightly ushering him out of the room.

"You already look ready to me." He snickered.

"Oh shut up."

With that, you slammed the door shut in his face and quickly got to fixing your bedhead.

Luckily, you didn't have to change, but you definitely had to reapply your makeup which took quite a few minutes. That plus the time it took for you to refresh yourself in the toilet and you were looking at just narrowly avoiding being late to school.

Your feet carried you down the steps swiftly as your eyes locked in on the door, passing by a very flabbergasted Cain on your way there.

"Wait, you forgot to—!"

His words were cut off once you slammed the door shut, rushing down the front yard to stumble into the back seat of Steve's BMW, where both he and Nancy sat awaiting your arrival.

Your chest heaved up and down. "What are you waiting for?! Go!"

"We aren't late." Nancy replied, raising a brow at you.

"We... aren't?" You paused to catch your breath.

"No, we aren't."

You slowly turned your gaze to the left, meeting the ridiculous facial expression of your best friend; cheeks sucked in and eyes looking off to the side.

"Steve."

Then, a huge bout of laughter tumbled out of his mouth and you found your eyes scanning the interior of his car before landing on a half-full water bottle. Perfect.

Within seconds, you snatched it up and sent it hurdling towards the back of his head.

"Ow!"

"Not funny, asshole!"

"Liiittle funny."

"Just drive, Steve," sighed Nancy, fingers kneading through her temples.

"Thank you, Nancy," you huffed, "at least someone here isn't a dick."

Cue another snicker coming from the driver's seat.

You rolled your eyes as the car started up, bouncing you up and down against the smooth, leather seats. It was kinda bizarre how this was a car from back in the 80s but was still the most expensive car you had ever found yourself sitting in.

Okay, maybe the 80s didn't suck that much.

You still missed your phone though.

Now, you would've happily continued reminiscing all of your memories with your beloved device, but—just then—your ears picked up on a sound; one you were awfully familiar with, the roar of an engine you couldn't bring yourself to ignore even if you wanted to.

Your hand moved on its own, wrapping itself around the handle of the door before pushing it open as you placed one foot out, your other following straight after. Now leaning on top of the door of Steve's car, you gazed straight forward.

Metallic blue; shiny and glinting in the sun's rays. At the bottom, a yellow number plate stared you right in the eyes: PCE 235.

The left door clicked open and out came black boots paired with light blue jeans. Adorning them was a guy rocking a denim-on-denim look—blonde mullet rested comfortably on his head and striking, electric blue eyes scanning the parking lot with little emotion swirling inside.

Then, he made eye-contact with you, holding it for one, two, three seconds before breaking away, flicking his cigarette, and sauntering off in a way that exuded pure confidence.

There was no doubt about it, that guy was Billy Hargrove. And if he was Billy Hargrove, then that meant—

—the events of Season 2 had officially started.

@bdudette, @tanyaherondale, @killerqueenfan, @l3xiluve, @thedoubleexposurephotography, @xxqueenofdemonsxx, @briarsheart

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balkanradfem · 5 months

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Learning more about animals made me think about an interesting comparison on how we decide to reproduce, compared to how animals do it.

In the wild, animals will usually reproduce less, or simply survive less and thus do less populating, if the habitat isn't suitable for them, temperature is wrong, and if they don't have enough reliable food sources. Sometimes they will be able to adapt to a different habitat and temperature, like having their reproduction cycle delayed or done in a different time of year so that their young would survive, but if there's no food source, they'll reproduce in smaller numbers.

This is why sometimes animals will overpopulate the areas near humans, if they're able to access people's food storage, trashbags and pantries, it will give them a great, fulfilling source of food and thus an incentive to reproduce as much as they want to - after all, there's food for everyone.

But with humans, it's like we don't even pay attention to that. Or rather, our reproduction is governed by culture that isn't built around human needs and quality of life. We're taught that we need to reproduce, especially if we're women, because:

everyone else is doing it and it's the only normal thing to do

if we don't do it we're failing to contribute to future society

we're going to be an outcast if we don't do it

we're going to end up alone and unloved if we don't do it

there's a limited time frame in which we can do it, and if we don't we might regret it later

there's intense pressure all around us from our peers, relatives, family, cousins and others to do it, and they are all assuming we will and ask us why

if we don't we're contributing to extinction of the human species

we're supposed to want to do it

we're threatened of missing out on a fulfilled life if we don't do it

we're depicted as wasted potential if we don't do it

we're told it's what we exist for and it should be our only purpose to do it

And this fails to take into account absolutely everything that comes into being with creating human life. We aren't supposed to pay attention to the amount and quality of food that we have, to the state of the habitat all around us (if we can even access the information about it), the amount of energy, free time and willingness we have to nurture and raise a human child, or what kind of life this child can have in a world like this. It's almost like we're pushed to be more mindless than animals, reproducing simply because it's the thing that is done, rather than assessing the situation and making a reasonable call of whether someone should be living in a world in this state.

So whose idea was it to create a culture like this, who benefits from it? The answer is very simple, m*n. Just from looking at the culture they developed, it's obvious they don't care about the quality, length, or resources put into a new human's life, all they care about is producing as much offspring as possible, regardless of circumstances. All of the beliefs I've mentioned above, that are forced onto women, come from that simple-minded desire: let us multiply uncontrollably. That's also where the idea of taking away womens choices comes from; it makes it all male choice. They can decide for a woman, whether she'll have a child or not, giving them absolute control over human reproduction, while they clearly do not care what kind of society this builds or what are the consequences for the said children.

When this control is put into women's hands, all of these circumstances are taken into account. Quality of environment, available funds, food, energy, human influence, the amount of danger and threat to the child, the climate, the chance of that child having a safe and happy life, woman will be aware of all of this, because she is the one who will make sure that child stays alive and well. Fathers can ignore all of this because they know mothers will take on this labour on themselves if given no other options.

I've read recently, on how human lifespan increased so grandmothers would be able to take care of their grandchildren, giving the parents more time to work and care for themselves, and isn't it interesting? How only women were ever expected to do that. Every grandfather I've heard of was not only incapable of taking care of a child, but also incapable of taking care of himself, burdening his wife with his every need until his death. Often, they were also a danger to the children (not every single time, but often enough to be mentioned).

And we're stuck in the world where they're the ones making the calls to create more children endlessly, all while ignoring the circumstances of that child's life, and doing massive acts of violence, wars, terrorism, destruction and devastation of human life worldwide, ultimately killing both mothers and children.

It feels wrong on every level that anyone except women should have authority on human life, when to reproduce and in which circumstances. We have to endure devastating trauma and pain, intrusion in our own bodies and risk of death to make just one person. We evolved to live longer in order to take care of children, to create a better environment for them to live in, and we should let someone else make the call? It's insane.

Not only women should have the ultimate say in this, for the sake of quality of human life and the environment, but all of the culture surrounding reproduction should change. Making children in a world where we can't care for, feed and protect them isn't normal. Not paying attention to whether a creation of a child will only cause extra suffering to the child, is not how we create a future our children can live happily in. Males spreading their broken dna is not worth creating a human society that is built up on suffering, and will lead into more suffering.

#human reproduction #pro abortion #anti natalism #radical feminism #feminism #reproduction #humans vs animal reproduction

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bruciemilf · 11 months

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There's no one, dead or alive, that knows Bruce quite as deeply as his children.

They have no idea how they could've possibly mossed the relationship between Bruce and Harvey's relationship. In retrospect, it was very in your face.

Dick should've known when he was 10, reassuring Bruce he'll get them out of Two-Face's evil crutches.

He didn't even bother tying them up! In fact, it was rather odd. No other rogue brought them to their penthouse, and patted his head.

(Maybe just Selina. ) Bruce didn't shed the Batsuit in favour of a huge shirt.

And none of them, certainly, cooked them pasta.

", -- And I would've beat you, by the way! I would've done a kick, and a backflip, and ohhh, I would've gotten you good!"

Harvey listens and nods along. He and Bruce share one of those secretive smiles. They looked so much like Mary and John in that moment.

Jason should've known when he was 12, idle and careless, swinging his feet on the batmbile's roof, "Told you it makes no sense to race with Flash."

"Not helping, Robin,"

Bruce isn't exactly an expert in being stern. He looks at Jason like he's made of porcelain, and speaks to him like he might bruise with just a word. It's sweet.

It was the way a familiar two-toned Cadillac pulled up next to them, with a grumbling Harvey holding a toolbox in a wifebeater and boxers with hearts on them.

It was between 3 and 4 in the morning, and there Harvey was, muttering low complains under his breath so Bruce won't hear him.

Still, he doesn't pull away from lips kissing his cheek as he gets to work.

"Hi! Harv, Hi! Look at this trick Dickie thought me! Harv you're not looking!"

"I am! Surprised that brat called..."

"Don't you say a word about our boy, Harvey Joseph Dent."

"No boy of mine is a PIG. "

Tim should've known; Out of all of them, he should've known.

In his defense, he was barely 7. No seven year old knows why their neighbour waited until all lights were off to sneak out of their own house, and dramatically run in the arms of Gotham's notorious fallen angel In a pink robe.

When he tells that, Harvey, head on Bruce's lap, smirks, " Your old man just couldn't stay away from me, Timbo."

"You said you'd bomb the national bank if I didn't have dinner with you."

"It worked, didn't it?"

Cass should be given some leniency.

People were difficult by themselves. They're even more difficult when they come in pairs.

She soon learns everything in Gotham is perfectly crafted to maintain a balance.

There's a script everyone must follow to the sharpest detail. In such circumstances, elements cannot live without the other.

Chaos needs Rogues. Rogues need Batman. Batman needs Hope. Batman needs Robins. Robins need love. Robins need Batman.

As she surveys the rows of seats at her show, looking at Harvey's arm thrown over her dad's shoulders, she knows Bruce Wayne and Harvey Dent need eachother.

And Cass needs her father's happiness, in whatever shape it breaths.

#bruce wayne #dc #dc comics #batdad #twodad #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra cain #bruharvey #twobats #batfamily #writing #my writing #writing prompt #if you will!!#wanted to add Damian too but this was getting long shshs #harvey dent #text post

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seventhcallisto · 5 months

Text

Just had a little idea... flashing lights and eyestrain warning.

❝you shine like emerald❞

Happy House.

Stray Kids (ot8) x F!Reader (9th member addition)

PREVIEW: "I am not a member of stray kids!" You kick up the papers littering the floor. Frustratingly pulling at your hoodie. "They're always screwing over those guys. I feel kinda bad." Your most trusted friend, Jiu, snickers behind her bright laptop screen. "I-i should have left when I had the chance! Should have joined that dance group that tried to recruit me! Why did I think I was gonna be the next jihyo!? Oh god." You pace, waving your hands around to drain the building anxiety curling into your lungs and making it's home there. You twist towards jiu falling to your knees and wailing miserably. Childishly.

"I wasn't even on the show. It's a boy group! I'm going to get eaten alive! I'm a trainee! They have years over me! I'm so dead. My career is already over before it started. My life is over." You fall to the floor. Completely done with this whole ordeal and the accident you've gone through, sniffling pitifully. "I told you to always read the fine print. You never listen." Jiu scolds. She, in fact, did not, but she wants to make you feel worse as your best friend. Pink nails flick tiny specks of popcorn towards your slumped body on the floor. And she's right. You should have read the fine print before some businessman shoved a pen into your face. What is so wrong with stray kids that you're being made a fool just to make them look bad? Would adding you tear the group dynamic? You know you're screwed as soon as your concept photos drop.

SYNOPSIS: As if some type of double-sided punishment, you're manipulated to join one of jyps' most successful groups. Stray Kids. Added as an extra member and with no experience just to cast you off as another unsuccessful idol, all because you didn't read the fine print when they dangled the keys to your dream in front of your face. They've got tricks up their sleeves, and the contract you signed says you're a permanent member of the unsuspecting group of guys now. You had no idea you were signing that type of contract. And you especially have no idea why they're trying to bring down their biggest boy group.

table of content + cws: she/her pronouns. female anatomy. major age differences but not in a power-hungry way(ur 19). invisible honorifics, I swear. manipulation. jyp(ent) is kinda the villain here(ilyjypplsdontsueme). ace!trainee reader. inexperienced reader. forced proximity and friendship. the members r kinda mean at first. Sorry, not sorry. ooc stray kids bc no one knows them like they know themselves. overworking. growing friendships. polyamorous(sharingiscaring). quick mutual pining(but they don't realize it). eventual smut.

Prologue. — 🧾

Chapt. ⓵ ❝_____❞

chpt. ⓶ , chpt. ⓷ , chpt. ⓸, chpt. ⓹, etc.

To be continued.. 🧷

I accidently posted this too early (crying). Lmk what you guys think ! — calli.

[taglist is open]

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satoruoo · 6 months

Text

4EVER N EVER - geto suguru

summary: the night that suguru becomes certain, as certain as he can be as a sorcerer, that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

genre: fluff, post haibara death, angst to comfort, (trust this is an actual deleted scene i know bc gege told me)

warnings: swearing, f!reader, mentions of death

notes: this is before he meets mimiko and nanako. i wanted to write ab riko but i cba lemme be honest!! not based on a song (surprisingly 🙌) JUST LET MY POOKIE BEAR BE HAPPY HUHUHU 😭😭

suguru had never been the type to allow himself to get attached.

as a sorcerer, he'd learned that people die often. far too often, too quickly, and too easily for his liking. seeing someone smile so happily, wearing a carefree grin, and bubbling with boundless joy was one thing; seeing them dead was another.

it baffles him - haibara had been alive hours ago.

in the stillness and silence of death, suguru had contemplated. he'd thought about haibara; lacking a pulse, a pulse evidence of a heart seemingly made of gold. haibara, without the rise and fall of each breath, breaths that were formerly steady proof of vitality, and haibara, complexion drained of previous warmth and colour.

haibara, who was once suguru's underclassman.

always swamped in work, sorcerers barely even had the time to mourn; to allow themselves to accept that someone they held close was gone. it makes him feel sick.

even so, suguru finds himself attached to one person. you, his girlfriend, his lover. for as long as he can remember, you'd never failed to be there for him, ready to kiss away his tears, to tell him how pretty he was even after he'd told you how ugly he felt, and to soothe the inner turmoil that rages within his chest.

part of him feels horrible about venting to you, like he's burdening you with his troubles no matter how hard you try to convince him of the opposite. worrying you is never his intention, and he doesn't understand how he always manages to do just that.

but like clockwork, suguru finds himself outside your door.

• . ☆° ✦. °.

it's pouring with rain as suguru decides whether or not to knock. he'd forgotten to bring an umbrella, so his hair and clothes are soaked through. he's too exhausted to care - both mentally and physically.

is it right for him to lean on you like this? to show up at your door so he can feel comforted by your presence? it hurts. it hurts because suguru knows the moment you tell him everything will be okay, he'll want to believe you. he'll feel safe in your arms - a feeling he's not sure he deserves to feel - and he'll curl into you as he shields himself away from the world.

you're lazing around on the couch when you hear a knock at the door, the familiar rhythmic sound indicating who is on the other side.

suguru's looking at the floor, hunched in on himself. his shoulders sag, eyelids weighing heavy as he looks at you, giving what he hopes is a small smile.

"suguru," you greet, and you can already tell from the look in his eyes that something is wrong. they're clouded, devoid of their usual pleasant glow.

"hey," he attempts, voice hoarse from disuse.

you blink at him, a soft, comforting smile settling on your lips. suguru knows that look; it's the one you give moments before you make him feel like he's the most precious thing in the world. he barely registers you gently tug him inside, closing the door behind him.

he's always loved your home. it's snug and cozy, warmth radiating from every room. every inch of it is personalized, filled to the brim with trinkets and decorations of your choosing. his favourite part is your living room - the heart of your residence. it's a perfect reflection of you, the sofa well over-cushioned with pillows and blankets; he thinks he recognizes the plush in the middle. the bookshelf stands tall in the corner of the room, stacked with beloved novels and literary classics.

there are pictures of your favourite people on the wall: him, satoru, kento, ieiri, and others that he doesn't recognize. family, he presumes.

if he could, he thinks he'd happily spend all the days he has left in this house.

suguru feels your arms encircle his neck, pulling his frame down into a hug. he tenses, part of him aware that he's still soaked from the rain but he knows you don't care.

it takes him a moment, but he eventually relaxes into your hold, pressing into you as you support his body weight with practiced ease. his nose instinctively finds the crook of your neck, nuzzling into the spot with a barely audible groan. his strong arms find themselves wrapped around your waist and he pulls you impossibly closer as if trying to sink into you completely.

"haibara died," he murmurs into your skin, "it was a grade-one curse."

suguru feels you nod and hum. you remember him - he was a close friend of kento's. you'd met on a few occasions; he was straightforward and honest, and you'd understood why kento liked him.

you thumb a circle into the flesh of his shoulder and close your eyes. "how's kento?" you ask, still cradling suguru as if he'd fall apart.

suguru's heart throbs at your selflessness, and he pushes his face further into you.

"bad," he bites his lip, "really bad."

you hum again, taking a mental note to call kento later while your fingers thread through your lover's dark hair. it's knotted, you notice, he hadn't been taking care of it.

a sigh escapes your lips as you maneuver yourself so that suguru's forehead is resting comfortably against yours.

"and you?" you ask gently, kissing his nose, "how're you, my love?"

if he's being honest, suguru isn't sure. he feels oddly hollow and empty, his emotions feel duller - more muted. the world feels farther out of reach than ever; he misses its vibrant colours and sounds. from the sunken feeling arise questions that are left unanswered, and they bounce around in his head, finding little holes to bury themselves in.

"bad," is what he settles for.

"really bad." he reiterates.

as loving and as calm as ever, you kiss his lips, hoping it'll remind him that you're there. he isn't alone in this.

"okay," you say, "that's okay."

how was any of that okay? it certainly doesn't sound okay to him. he doesn't feel like himself, and he doesn't know what to do about it.

you feel his hands tremble on your waist - from the cold or something else you aren't sure - but you press yourself closer, sharing your body heat.

"sugu, baby," suguru hates the way your voice so easily cuts through his thoughts. "look at me."

he does. he forces himself to focus on you; to look into those gorgeous eyes of the person he treasures most. your eyes are comforting, he thinks, full of love and subtle concern.

"it's okay, 'cause we'll get through this together."

suguru feels his heart flutter, breath hitching in his throat. we. right, he wasn't alone. he had you. we. you and him were a team, lives interwoven by fate. he hasn't even told you what was truly wrong yet, but here you were, making the world seem 10x brighter than before.

"yeah," he agrees slowly, voice quiet, "yeah." he repeats again as if to assure himself.

he exhales, a breathy laugh escaping his lips. he doesn't miss how your smile grows a tad wider.

suguru was nowhere near okay yet, but he'd get there.

• . ☆° ✦. °.

two hours later, suguru has showered and changed.

(you'd gotten into the habit of keeping clothes for him at your house if situations of the like ever were to arise, or if he stays over.)

he's feeling far fresher and lighter on his feet than he was before. he ambles down the stairs, stopping momentarily to admire the photo of baby you hung on the wall.

he can tell from the sounds and occasional curse down the hall that you're in the kitchen, probably fucking summoning some sort of demon with all that noise.

he makes himself at home on the couch, clinging to the plush that he now recognizes as his 6-month anniversary gift to you. it's a pikachu plush, one brought from the store just days after you'd expressed your favourite pokemon in a debate with satoru. there's a collar around its neck, with a tag that reads:

'to my one and only. - suguru'

you'd kept the tag? he thinks he's going to cry. having someone love him so much was partly overwhelming, he'd worry about whether or not he was enough for you, about whether you'd be happier with someone else. but the other part was so, so rewarding. he's pretty sure he'd kill people just to keep you happy, and he thinks he must have been a saint in his past life to deserve you in this one.

"sugu?" it's your voice that once again pulls him from his trance. you're holding out a mug of hot chocolate, steam rising from the cup. whispering his thanks he takes it and, bringing the mug to his lips for a sip, suguru's reminded of just how much you mean to him.

you snuggle into his side, careful not to spill your own drink. to your relief, suguru seems slightly better.

"i love you," suguru says, so quietly that you almost miss it. "i love you so, so much."

you falter slightly, not expecting this sudden confession. nonetheless, you grin, pressing a kiss to his sharp jawline. you know that he loves you, of course.

"i love you too," you soothe, pretty lips turning up into a wide smile that makes his heart do flips, "you wanna talk about it?"

suguru's eyes crinkle at the corners in a way that you know by heart, and he looks at you with the softest look you'd ever seen.

"yeah, please."

suguru may be far from perfect and he may struggle with his emotions sometimes, but he had you. you'd be there for the rest of his life. he knows that for certain.

BONUS:

when suguru later checks his phone, he realizes it isn't just you who's there for him. it's a couple others too.

99+ messages from satoru (derogatory):

sugururuuruur

u okay?

u looked a bit off today

i'm here if u need me !!

...

35+ messages from shoko !!:

geto u looked like actual shit today

come talk to me if ur feeling bad

i'm worried

wait ur probs at y/n's place forget this

...

#♡. viascribbles #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #geto x you #jujutsu geto #suguru geto #geto x y/n #jjk fluff #lil surprise at the end to heal broken hearts!#jjk angst #jjk comfort #jujutsu kaisen x you #geto fic

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auroravictorium · 1 year

Text

karma (k.b.)

trick me once, trick me twice. don't you know that cash ain't the only price?

Summary: kaz gets his first piece of information about reader's whereabouts, and pekka gets his revenge; inej makes a pivotal discovery, and kaz vows to kill pekka rollins. Pairing(s): kaz x fem!reader (established relationship) Word Count: 3.8k Warnings: moderate violence [choking, breaking bones, punching, kicking], mentions of blood, mentions of killing (in the context of a threat), violent!kaz (but not as violent as he could be, y'know)

Genre: angst + action

Author's Note: another beast of a part for you guys!! i hope you all enjoy, and thank you to everyone for your kind words!! you're all so sweet i'm sobbing - promise we're gonna get a reunion between kaz and reader soooooooon! then some fluff hehe.

grishaverse masterlist

"I asked around," Nina said quietly, just for Kaz to hear as they stood behind a crumbling chimney atop a bank in the Financial District. It wasn't far from where Y/N was taken, and with this view, Nina couldn't blame Jesper and Inej for losing sight of the mercenaries. In the tangle of Ketterdam streets, it was too easy for them to get away. "Only three mercenary groups based in Kerch use ether."

"Which groups?" Kaz said, peering around the chimney and glancing at his pocket watch. Pekka Rollins's closest financier should be coming up for his hourly smoke anytime now, and Kaz was growing impatient. Not that he had much patience in the past three days, most of it shot by worry and an inability to stop wondering if you were still alive. He knew Pekka Rollins; he wouldn't choose a mercenary group that wasted time.

"-And the-Are you even listening to me?" Nina said, cutting herself off and looking at him with a raised brow. Her unimpressed look softened when she saw his pursed lips: his only tell that he was somewhere else, probably thinking about Y/N. "Kaz. We're going to find her."

Kaz turned and masked his concern with a scowl. "Of course we will. That's why we're here," he said sharply. She's in this mess because of me. The thought had plagued him since Inej and Jesper told him you were gone; finding you was the only way he could fix this. He wouldn't accept any alternative. "Which group uses ether the most?"

"They call themselves the Dykhaniye." Nina closed her eyes and felt for nearby heartbeats; none, except for Kaz's. "Wylan said ether is highly flammable. As far as anyone has heard, they're the only ones able to use it successfully without any significant losses on their end. Others have tried, but..." She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She didn't want to think about what ether was doing to Y/N. Difficulty breathing, fatigue, vomiting... Nina knew Y/N was strong but didn't know how long she could survive being repeatedly poisoned.

"We need to find where they're based. That's where they'll have taken her." Kaz clutched onto his cane and fought to keep his breathing steady. Nina's wording was deliberate. No significant losses on their end. If they found Y/N, what state would she be in? Would they kill her, or would exposure to the ether do it? "I'll send word to Inej."

"She's already investigating leads." Nina held up a hand, silencing Kaz as he opened his mouth to question how, exactly, Inej could already be investigating leads if Kaz had just heard this information. Nina tilted her head toward the door and mouthed, Later.

Fine. Kaz would question why he didn't hear about this first once he was done beating the shit out of the financier. Get the information, ask Inej what she knows, and find Y/N. He snapped his mouth shut and angled his head, listening as the door to the roof creaked open. The metal hinges squeaked terribly, grating Kaz's ears and making Nina cringe.

The door creaked shut, and Kaz heard footsteps approaching the edge of the roof. Nina raised her hands, already feeling for the man's breathing. It came to her as naturally as wind to sails, and she started to curl her fingers.

Kaz held up a finger. Wait. He glanced around the side of the chimney and watched the man next to the decorative metal fencing along the roof's edge. It was rusted, and pieces flaked off as the man lit his first cigarette, inhaled deeply, then tapped the ashes off using the fence.

He puffed away, looking over the city, and Kaz lowered his finger.

As the man inhaled, Nina clenched her fist.

The financier choked on the smoke and dropped the cigarette from his mouth. His hands went to his throat, and he stumbled back from the metal fence. He hacked and coughed, tipping forward until he sank to his knees. As his lips turned blue, he swung his head wildly from side to side to look around for anyone who could help.

Instead, he found Kaz, who had no intentions of helping the man get back to his smoke break. Vengeance burned in those icy blue eyes, and the man gaped in fear like a fish pulled from the sea.

Kaz brought his cane down on the man's skull. The man's mouth moved like he wanted to cry out, and he slumped to the side onto the rough surface of the roof. Blood seeped down the man's temple, and a sick satisfaction ran through Kaz, fueling his wrath and setting him ablaze from the inside out. He hauled the financier back to his knees with a gloved hand on the man's collar, then started dragging him toward the teetering metal fence.

The man writhed underneath his grip, his hands going to Kaz's wrist and pulling, trying to pry his fingers away. But Kaz's grip was as unbreakable as his determination to bring Ketterdam to its knees until he found Y/N, and he had no problem destroying this man and this city if it meant making sure you were safe.

Kaz positioned the man so he hung partially over the fence, his face turned to the streets below. Nina released her grip on the man's lungs enough for him to breathe some air but not enough to scream or make much noise. The man went slack once he could gasp, but Kaz wasn't foolish enough to release him.

"I'm only going to ask this nicely once," Kaz hissed, leaning in so his voice was a terrible, dangerous whisper in the financier's ear. His eyes glinted in the setting sun, the icy blue color turning a sinister shade of orange as his irises caught the sun's fading rays. "Pekka Rollins paid off mercenaries recently. How much did it cost?"

Nina stayed behind the chimney, giving Kaz the space to work, but she peeked at the man as he gasped for air. His heart raced against his ribcage fast enough to make her want to wince, and his lungs strained with the effort to keep up with his panic. Saints, Kaz was trying to send this man into heart failure before getting any answers.

"I can't-" the man wheezed through blue lips, "tell you." His face throbbed as gravity forced his blood to his head, and his breathing trembled.

Kaz pushed the financier further over the barrier, which creaked dangerously under the man's weight. "You can, and you will," Kaz said. He jerked his chin toward the street below, filled with passersby on their way home for the evening or to the East Stave for some debauchery to relieve the workday's stress. "Or I just might lose my grip."

"He'll kill me," the man whimpered. He coughed, and his mouth tasted like copper. "He said he'd kill me."

"I think you're worried about the wrong person." Kaz kicked the metal fence, and the segment beneath the man buckled. The financier cried out as he hung over the alleyway, supported only by Kaz's grip on his collar. He finally seemed to realize that Kaz intended to let him hurtle off the roof headfirst if he didn't get answers, and he sobbed a quiet plea for help. Nobody looked up, the sound muffled by a twitch of Nina's fingers.

"How. Much," Kaz pressed. His arm was beginning to strain from holding the man up, and his leg was none too pleased with the exertion required to keep his weight steady on the roof's edge.

"Two million kruge," the man sobbed. "Mercenaries wouldn't accept anything less."

Kaz tilted his head. "Is he telling the truth?" he said too calmly, the question intended for Nina. He could feel her eyes on him, on his complete indifference to the man's desperation to survive. But this paled in comparison to what Kaz wanted to do in revenge for your kidnapping.

Nina winced, though Kaz's tone was outwardly neutral. She peered at his face. His expression bordered on bloodthirsty, and Nina swallowed. "Yes," she said softly.

Sometimes it was easy to forget how Kaz got his reputation, especially when Nina saw him around Y/N. He was always kind with her, as tender or gentle as a man with such sharp edges could be, and he never responded to her with anything other than a racing heart or caught breaths.

Kaz loved Y/N, whether he admitted it to himself or not, and Nina's ability to hear the signs made her forget that he could be like this. And he would if it meant keeping his Crows secure, his business intact, Y/N alive and safe.

Kaz surveyed the man's face, the tears in his eyes, and his moving lips as he murmured prayers to his saints. He considered Nina's confirmation of the financier's truthfulness, yet how easy it could be to throw this man off the roof and be done with it. It would be merciful compared to what Kaz wished he could do to this man for his role in your kidnapping, enabling Pekka Rollins to hire the mercenaries.

Chances are, the financier didn't even know your name. It wasn't in his purview.

Kaz clenched his jaw. This man's death could send a message and make it clear that Kaz would only do worse until he got the information he wanted. He could cause terror, drive the Dime Lions out of hiding and force someone to yield information. It was what Pekka Rollins would do if Kaz had inflicted the magnitude of pain that Rollins had.

His brother. His childhood. His Crows. His love.

He jerked the financier upright once more, and the man let out a sob that Kaz cut off as he shoved the man away from the roof's edge. The man rolled a few feet away and stopped at the bottom of the chimney, crying and mumbling prayers into his palms.

Kaz crossed over to him in two long strides and brought the blunt end of his cane down on the man's ribcage hard enough to fracture bone. Nina winced when she heard the crunch, pressing herself into the side of the chimney; the cold seeped from the bricks into her back, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Which group of mercenaries did Rollins need the money for?" Kaz growled. He moved the tip of his cane to an unbroken rib and leaned just enough weight on it that the man choked on another cry.

"The Dykhaniye," the man wailed. He'd given up on trying to conceal information from Kaz Brekker, who knew exactly what buttons to push to get what he wanted. "I don't know what he wanted with them." He turned his head to the side and spat to clear his airway, creating a mess of blood and tears down the side of his face and on the ground.

Kaz lifted his cane, and the man immediately tried to wriggle away from him as if he could get far enough to be out of reach of the crow-headed cane. "That wasn't so difficult, was it?" Kaz said. He tossed a wad of kruge at the man's battered chest, and the bills scattered across the rooftop on a light breeze. "For your trouble."

It was mocking, but he could have done much worse. If the financier had any sense left, he would take the money and get the hell out of the city before Pekka Rollins caught wind of his men breaking under threat from Kaz Brekker.

He turned and caught Nina's gaze. Giving her a curt nod of thanks, he spun on his heel and went for the door leading off the roof. She rushed to follow, sparing a short glance at the sobbing man next to the chimney. "You were right," he said quietly. It was the closest he would get to approving of her telling Inej of her suspicions before him. "Now, we wait to hear what Inej knows."

Your head snapped sharply to the side as Pekka Rollins cracked his knuckles across your cheek. Pain blossomed across your jaw, throbbing hard enough to rattle your teeth, and you bit your tongue to silence your cry. Every breath you took stung your lungs, and your chest struggled to rise and fall against the pressure of your broken ribs.

You fought to stay upright, forced to shift your knees against the hard ground without using your hands to balance. Your right knee scraped harshly against the stone floor, and the pain was worse than anything Rollins had done to you. It shot up and down your leg like a strong electric shock straight to your nerves, and it took everything you had to not let a sob of agony cross your lips.

Breathe. Let the pain out through your lungs. You forced a trembling breath in and out, trying to imagine the pain in your body turning to mist. You thought of the low clouds that lingered in Ketterdam during the summer, how they occasionally brought cool breezes along to soothe the sweating inhabitants of the city.

It had been days since you'd seen the sky, and thinking of Ketterdam's consistently gray skies brought you a unique mix of pain and comfort. What you would give to be under the clouds with the breeze on your skin.

If you got out of here alive, you would never again take the sight of the sky for granted.

When. When I get out of here.

"I'll ask you again," Rollins said, pacing before you like a predator cornering its prey. His hair drooped in his face, and the front of his clothes was stained dark with broth. There was a slice across his cheekbone from a shard of porcelain, and blood was smudged across his knuckles and fingertips. Yours and his. He looked nothing more than the scum he was, with any semblance of composure or pride wiped from his face as you refused to break under his fists. "Why did Brekker want those documents?"

You spat at his feet. Blood splattered the hem of his trousers and his polished shoes, but the wicked satisfaction wasn't worth a slap jerking your head to the other side. This time, a soft groan of pain slipped out. Your cheek throbbed, and you swiped your tongue across your dry lips as you panted. In. Out. Keep breathing.

You could do this. You could keep fighting long enough to make a plan. The mercenaries had long since left the two of you alone; all you had to do was get past Pekka, swipe the knife from his belt, and saw away at the rope binding your wrists. If they hadn't dragged you up a flight of chipped stone stairs and away from your cell, you would consider using a shard from the bowl you'd shattered; if you made it back down, you would be sure to pocket one. Use what you have.

Pekka leaned down and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. "You're making this harder than it needs to be, lass," he snarled. "Perhaps I should have passed you over to the Stadwatch. You've killed a fair share of my men, and murder can be a serious charge if I want it to be."

"Then do it," you spat. Blood dripped down your lip, and you considered spitting it in his face. You didn't bother licking it away, unwilling to let him see how much the metallic taste in your mouth bothered you. "Why waste your time?"

"Because you're valuable to Brekker, stupid girl." Rollins laughed, a grating, taunting sound that sent a shiver down your spine. You flexed your fingers, wishing you could wrap them around his throat and strangle the sound out of his lungs. All of this is because Kaz poses a threat to his business.

But there had to be more. There had to be something Kaz hadn't told you.

No. Save the doubt for later.

Pekka kicked you in the ribs, knocking you back into the wall. Fiery pain rushed to your chest, and whatever air you'd gathered slipped past your lips in a soft wheeze. Your back ached from its collision with the stone wall. Everything hurt, and you weren't sure you could stand.

A bloody cough slipped past your lips, and tears welled up in your swollen eyes. You wished you could wipe them away, avoid showing Pekka Rollins how weak you were feeling. But you were powerless to stop them, and you had no choice but to lean your head back against the stones and squeeze your eyes shut. Stop crying. Breathe.

Breathing could only get you so far.

Pekka turned and slammed his fist against the heavy oak door keeping you inside this room with him. Inside this damn warehouse, from what you'd gathered on your straggling, painful walk up from your cell. You wished you had the strength to attack Pekka while his back was turned, but you could only bring yourself to open your eyes as the door opened and two of the mercenaries entered.

Sergei and Fjerdan Asshole. Just the people you wanted to see.

You glowered at them as they jerked you to your feet, and Sergei only gave you an unpleasant smirk. Another cough bubbled up in your chest as the mercenaries hauled you toward the door, filling your mouth with blood. You glared at Pekka Rollins as you passed him, and he looked back at you smugly.

"I can't wait until Brekker sees what I've done to you," he drawled, following you to the office door. "His rage will make it even more satisfying when I kill him."

When I kill him.

Something hot and red and destructive washed over you. Every ounce of pain in your body seemed to temporarily numb, yielding to the pure wrath burning beneath your skin. You would bear as much pain as Pekka Rollins gave you, the bruises and cuts and broken bones. But you would make sure there was nothing left of him, the Dime Lions, or Ketterdam if he went after Kaz; losing Kaz was a pain you refused to bear.

You looked over your shoulder at Rollins, piercing him with a simmering glare that would have made anyone else shrink back. "You have a spot of blood on your tie," you snarled. Then, you spat your mouthful of blood in his face.

Rollins reeled back with a roar of outrage, wiping away the blood but only succeeding in smearing it through his beard. A murderous look filled his eyes, but he didn't have enough time to act on it before the mercenaries shoved you out of the office and toward the dark stairs leading to the warehouse basement.

Inej darted up the stairs to Kaz's office, panting and shoving past meandering Dregs coming out of their room for an early breakfast. She swung around the corner and pushed open Kaz's door, nearly hitting Jesper. He jumped out of the way and surveyed her disheveled state, opening his mouth to, presumably, ask what happened.

She dropped a stack of papers on Kaz's desk and leaned against the chair across from his to catch her breath. "Straight from the office of Pekka Rollins," she gasped, holding her side. "The Dykhaniye are based in Zierfoort. They own every warehouse complex in the city as a front for their operations. That's where they took her."

Kaz immediately shoved his map to the side and started flipping through the papers, glancing up at Inej. "How? I told you not to risk it." He jerked a transaction list free from the stack, and his icy eyes scanned it for any precise information. Which warehouse, which side of the city, anything that might expedite their search for Y/N. "Jesper, the carriage. Now."

"On it, Boss." Jesper gently squeezed Inej's shoulder on his way out. She squeezed his wrist in thanks. "Good job," he whispered. He left the office, and his thundering footsteps rattled the floorboards as he moved down the stairs.

"Wylan staged a distraction. The grunts around the perimeter of the Emerald Palace had to go investigate an explosion on one of their ships in Fourth Harbor." Inej straightened up and searched Kaz's face. "I shouldn't have gone without letting you know, but she's my friend, Kaz. I can't sit idly knowing I could have done something to stop this."

"There was nothing you could have done," Kaz said quietly. He stood and rolled the papers up, stuffing them in the inner pocket of his coat. He met Inej's gaze, and she was relieved to find no anger there. None directed at her, anyway. "Pekka had this plotted out for months. They found servant stairwells that we thought were blocked off, and he hired the best mercenaries that kruge could buy."

Kaz didn't blame Inej or Jesper. He blamed himself entirely. I was the one who put her at risk. I let her become my weakness, and she's paying the price. He grabbed his cane and a pistol from some hidden spot beneath his desk and spun the latter in his fingers.

Inej examined Kaz's face, searching for any hint of a contradiction to his words. When she found none, her shoulders loosened. "I'll get Nina and Matthias. Wylan is already downstairs."

"Matthias and Wylan stay. They'll watch over the Club and the Slat until we return." Kaz grabbed his hat, stared at it for a moment, then put it back down. You were the last to wear it when you used it as a disguise to get him breakfast on his birthday. It reminded him too strongly of you, of his failure to say what he longed to say before the bank job.

You expressed your love for him so often and so carefully that he wondered why you woke up every day and still chose him, when he could barely tell you that he cared without choking on his past. Would you still choose him when all of this was said and done? Would you realize that he was at fault for this, that he was nothing more than a shell of a man, too haunted, too broken, too bruised, who brought pain to anyone who dared to get close?

Kaz blinked back to the present, pulling himself from the color of your eyes, the memories of his fingers clasping your favorite necklace around your neck. "Let's go," he said quietly, ignoring Inej's concerned look. She'd probably said his name a few times. He didn't care. "It's a day's trip to Zierfoort."

And he stalked out of the office, leaning heavily on his cane and pondering how it would feel to finally kill Pekka Rollins.

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